#from work and from college and from money

[plumbwolf]

He needed the money, Derek reminded himself, for the third or fourth or sixteenth time. He needed the money, and he didn't have time for a part-time job. Erica had sworn up and down that the magazine she freelanced for was staffed entirely by professionals, even if those professionals did make soft-core werewolf porn.

He needed the money, Derek reminded himself, for the seventeenth time, as an intern sprayed him down with the mist-setting on a garden house. Another intern in a plaid button down with a heavy-looking bag over one shoulder ran in as as someone was artfully mussing Derek's hair from behind. He panted "Shit. Am I late? Tell me I'm not late."

He needed the money, Derek reminded himself, for the third or fourth or sixteenth time. He needed the money, and he didn't have time for a part-time job. Erica had sworn up and down that the magazine she freelanced for was staffed entirely by professionals, even if those professionals did make soft-core werewolf porn.

He needed the money, Derek reminded himself, for the seventeenth time, as an intern sprayed him down with the mist-setting on a garden house. Another human intern in a worn Invader Zim t-shirt ran in as someone was artfully mussing Derek's hair from behind. He panted, "Shit. Am I late? Tell me I'm not late."

"You're late," several voices called out at once.

"Shit." The intern set down his large bag on a nearby bench and nodded at Derek. "You must be my model. I'm Stiles, your photographer. Sorry about all the swearing."

Despite Derek’s concerns about his wardrobe, Stiles did seem like a professional. He had barely done more than glance at the way Derek's nipples were peaked with cold underneath the extremely thin white t-shirt they'd had him put on. And he hadn't once touched Derek without asking permission first.

"Is it cool if I-" Stiles pantomimed something with his fingers, "make a few adjustments?" He had beautiful hands. If they'd met in a bar somewhere, Derek would have pegged him as a pianist, or maybe the artist he supposed Stiles technically was.

Derek nodded. "Go ahead."

Stiles beamed at him. "Thanks. No bad touching, I swear. I promised Erica I'd return you with your virtue intact."

Too bad, thought Derek, and felt himself flush. He was suddenly glad the water in the bathtub was too uncomfortably chilly to make anything but his nipples hard.

Stiles crooked a finger in Derek’s collar and dragged it down another inch. “Arms behind your head, please? Yeah, just like that. I’m just gonna-” He adjusted the t-shirt sleeves, casually complimenting Derek on his arms (‘That’s just the right amount of flex’) as he worked. 

“Now,” he said. “Would you mind tugging up the hem of your shirt? You’ve got great armpit bush, and that’s showing up just fine through the cotton, but I’d like a clearer view of the ol’ happy trail.”

Derek locked eyes with Stiles and pulled at his shirt. The cotton had stuck to his stomach, and the wet ‘slap’ it made when he let it go sounded loud in a room with tiled acoustics. “Like that?” 

“Uh.” Stiles cleared his throat. “Maybe a little higher? Yeah, that’s perfect.” 

*click*Stiles never stopped talking as he worked, chattering on about college (he’d been in a class with Cora before he’d graduated last year), Star Wars, work, (‘Can you flash those beta blues at me? How about a little fang?’), his cat (a striped Tabby named ‘SecUnit’), how he’d seen Derek at the nursery last month when he’d come in for a new succulent-

“I’m not getting the angle I want. Do you mind if-” Stiles wrinkled his nose. “Can I maybe climb in there with you?”

“ . . . sure?”

Stiles grinned at him, and dropped to the ground to unlace his shoes. He rolled up his jeans with a foot on the edge of the tub, and then climbed in to sit on the back edge. “Much bet - fuck, this water’s cold!”

“I know.”

“Sorry, big guy. Can you stand it for another ten minutes? I swear we’re almost done.”

“I’m a werewolf, Stiles.”

“I’m still buying you coffee after the shoot. I mean, I will have an intern run out for coffee. That I will pay for. Tilt your head a little more to the left? Nah, look at me straight on again. Smolder for me. God, that's super hot.”

Stiles started to ramble (incorrectly) about how he could never be a model himself. “Way too scrawny. I won this baby,” he plucked at his stupid t-shirt, “as a raffle prize in seventh grade. You got tickets for passing a high-school level reading comprehension test. I mean, seventh-grade. And it still fits!"

 Derek laughed.

*click click click click click*

Stiles pulled back and looked at his camera. "Forget everything I said two minutes ago. There's our cover shot. Fuck, look at your cute little bunny teeth. And those eyes crinkles! We’re going to sell a million copies.”

“Gonna buy one yourself?”

Stiles winked. “I might even buy two.” He pulled his camera over his head and set it down on the stool next to the bathtub. “That’s a wrap. You can put your arms down. Or wherever.” 

Derek unhooked his arms with a low groan, while Stiles fidgeted on the edge of the bathtub. A second or two later he muttered, ‘Fuck it’ and dropped down fully into the tub, landing with his knees in the water on either side of Derek’s legs. He put a tentative hand on each of Derek’s thighs. “I really hope I’m not reading this wrong.”

Derek took a fistful of the t-shirt that absolutely did not fit and that he planned to steal later and burn. He tugged, lightly, and Stiles scooted obediently forward so that he was sitting directly above the zipper on Derek’s borrowed jeans.

Suddenly the water seemed a lot less cold. 

“I thought you could read at a high school level.”

“College,” Stiles blurted out. “Maybe even post-grad. No barely legal reading levels here.”

“Good,” said Derek, and pulled him the rest of the way down.

TYLER HOECHLIN

[crepezinhos]

Hello! I love your writing by the way and how you interpret Scaramouche/ wanderer is just 🤌🤌🤌

I would like to know your opinion about, what if there was an au where both Scaramouche and reader are in college. Reader takes on medical technology where she studied all about microbiology and all that stuffs and giz. When all of a sudden their professor tasked them that they would need to bring their own sperm cell for this assignment but reader doesn't know where to get some. But then it hit her, she finally knows someone who could help and all she needs is a little persuasion.

You don't have to answer it though or reply to it. It just an idea I had stuck in my brain for awhile huhu. But all in all, your writing is so good and well thought out and I would like to see how this turns out. Anyways love you and hope that you listen to it hihi >🩷🩷

Spurm of the Moment

POV: You need sperm to do a project in your biology class, but you’re a woman, and cannot get it in your own. You could get it in sperm banks, but that would probably cost you money... So why not use your dear friend to get that sperm?

⚠️ WARNINGS:

— This is NSFW work

— Reader is FEMALE and uses SHE/HER pronouns

— Contains: Blindfolding, bondage and overstimulation

— Wanderer x Biomedic Reader

— AU is: Modern

“Are you sure I have to be like this?” Wanderer asked as he tried pulling his arms away from the chair’s arm rests, testing out the ropes’ strength.

“Please, we both know how you are. You barely let me hug you when we’re hanging out already. Do you really think you’d let me do this to you freely? Don’t make me laugh…” You asked while still kneeling down in front of him, tightening the last rope around his left leg.

“What about the blindfold, then? How is that helping you?” But he kept trying to challenge you’d expect from him.

“I don’t want you to… witness.” You cleared your throat as you stood up from your spot.

“Oh? But you can take off my pants and jack my dick off as you wish?” You could still see his eyebrows frowning even if the blindfold covered his purple eyes. “Y’know, why didn’t you just ask me to jack off on my own?” He kept moving his hands in diverse ways as he spoke, enjoying one of the few freedoms he still had.

“I don’t trust you to be cautious with it.” You walked towards your desk, grabbing the other preparatives you needed for this moment such as rubber glover and the pot where you’d keep the semen in.

“You don’t trust me to beat my own meat?” Wanderer wheezed, lowing his head down momentarily.

“I trust you to do that, but not to be cautious and sanitary with the results.” After grabbing the prepartions and dressing the gloves around your hands, you walked back to him, kneeling in front of him ahain. “And, you did consent to this anyway…” You tried teasing him wth the truth, but it didn’t seem to have much effect.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever…” He kept himself broad to pretend he hadn’t lost that little argument.

“Just to make sure you aren’t starting to regret this… What is the safe word we agreed on?” You asked him a bit more seriously, looking up to him despite hs inability to stare back at you.

“Biology.” He answered very bored.

“Yes. Just like the main purpose of this.” You reminded him of that fact before your hands started to move down his chest. “May I?”

He nodded and you soon cupped his crotch with a hand, beginning to gently rub your palms against his organ to get him erect.

“Shit…” Wanderer turned his head to the side while biting his inferior lip to stop himself from making any louder noises compared to the short grunts from the back of his throat. “What kind of lesson is this anyway..?” He fixed his throat, trying to maintain his dignity.

“We have a project to examine sperm cell behavior of different people under certain conditions.” You answered neutrally, focusing more on his slightly-hardened organ rather than his anger.

“Are you the only woman in their class or something?! Why would he not give the cells already?!” Wanderer kept trying to argue with you and distract himself from the pressure you were applying on him.

“Hmmmm… I don’t know.” You shrugged your shoulders, not wanting to think about less awkward alternatives now that you were getting what you needed.

So, trying to get him to stop protesting, you finally put your whole hand under his underwear and pulled out his dick out of it, finally springing it free. When Wanderer felt your gloved fingers enveloping his pink tip is when he started fighting back again.

“Aren’t there any sperm banks in the school?! O-Or maybe in the city?!” His head was looking down at where the motions were going to happen, trying to somehow have a bit of control and awareness of his situation.

“Don’t you think it’s a little too late to protest about it now?” You spoke a bit ironically, circling those same fingers around him to give him a starter.

“You minx…” You could clearly see his fists gripping around the edges pf the seat as you teased him, taking it all out on it.

“You know you like it.” You blinked to him, finally beginning to occupy his mind with more pleasure.

Your fingers were jerking him gently and slowly, going all the way to the tip of his urethra down to base of his cock. It was a tortuous rhythm that was certainly tensing him up for more. His own fingers would slightly scratch the chair to relieve himself and hope it’d make him more silent around you, feet tapping the floor nervously.

“You know… this would be faster if you told me about anything you like during these moments for me to do.” You suddenly decided to open your mouth to give him that suggestion, deciding to use your other hand to gently get a hold of his testicles to test him out.

Wanderer flinched as soon as he felt you touch that region, skin visibly shivering. A bothered grunt also came out of his throat in response, a hint of pink coloring his cheeks.

“J-Just… stroke me faster.” He fixed his throat again as you smirked at the facade he was trying to pose to you.

But you did as he wished and proceeded to stroke him faster, still trying your best to tease his tip the most so he could ejaculate as soon as possible. It was now a bit harder for Wanderer to jail his noises, meaning he had to try even harder to keep his mouth shut, and those efforts were making this whole moment way more awkward for you too.

“You can moan, y’know? I would expect you to.” You turned your face to him, but seeing his face made you too embarrassed to keep looking at it that bravely, so you abruptly turned away and started looking at the floor instead.

“I don’t want you to listen…” He quickly mumbled before another moan took his vocal chords over and forced him to shut his mouth again.

“Alright, then… But it is going to become worse for you.” You said while making the circle between your middle, ring finger and your thumb tighter, trying to squeeze him more.

“For fuck’s sake…” Wanderer’s hips trying to recoil away from you, but that was impossible due to his legs being tied to the chair’s too, so he had no choice but to relieve himself by stretching his legs and arching his back, his feet facing the roof.

If only he wasn’t wearing shoes… You were pretty sure all his fingers would be spread apart too from that heavy pleasure wave you gave him, but you had no choice but to move on from that and keep focusing on pulling out that orgasm from him.

This moment was as awkward for him as it was for you. You’d never expect someone as reserved as him to let you do this to him, and actually doing it felt bizarre. Now you knew how his dick looked like, and you could probably imagine how it fit and looked under his pants. How would look at him normally again? How would he look at you normally again? Maybe you should’ve been more creative with your problem-solving skills instead of insisting on this. But at the same times you couldn’t blame yourself for him accepting to do this so… easily.

“I know it’s very weird, but… It would be really helpful if you could help me do this faster.” Now it was your turn to fix your throat to pretend you didn’t have an awkwardness in the tip of your tongue.

“… Ok.” He accepted your commission very neutrally, arms crossed as if he was bored and not surprised at all.

Maybe he wasn’t exactly taking you seriously and didn’t realize the gravity of what he put himself into.

“I hope I’m successfully stimulating you and not just… doing this for nothing.” You laughed your embarrassment away, trying to cool the mood between you two.

“Y-You’re good.” He mumbled, a bit too embarrassed to confess his satisfaction with all of this.

“Tell me when you’re close, okay?” You looked at the pot sitting at the floor by your side, wondering when would you finally use it.

“Ok…” Wanderer moaned under his throat again, still holding himself back.

Hearing his confirmation, you kept working your hands in his organ, trying your best to recreate the tips you’ve read in the internet about how to make a guy reach his orgasm quickly. Your right hand was basically twisting itself within every pump to provoke his sized cock while sometimes gripping it a bit harder on purpose to cause a bit of pleasurable pain. Meanwhile, your left hand were still massaging his balls and caressing them with thumb, but way more carefully compared to your other hand. You knew that it was a very sensible and fragile part of the male body and you had no idea if Wanderer would like you to mess with it any harder, so you had no choice but to be gentle despite your want to end this as soon as possible.

“I-I think I’m close…” Wanderer suddenly threw his head back, a high-pitched moan escaping his lips after holding himself back so much.

“Are you? Really?” You asked, turning your eyes back to him, seeing his mouth hanging open from the overstimulation.

“Y-Yeah, yeah… Go faster…” He asked, cheeks growing a bit redder from asking you such an embarrassing question.

You nodded and started pumping him faster, dropping all those techniques you were trying to use to focus on man tuning that growing momentum, including his testicles so you could grab the pot. And it seemed to be working because Wanderer started hissing quite frequently to get rid of his need to groan.

“A-Almost there..!” Wanderer’s feet begun dragging themselves against the floor again, trying to contain his pleasure, his hips trying to jerk upwards to feel more friction and allow himself to free that aching knot in his balls.

Unfortunately, despite his warning, Wanderer was still not ejaculating at all, which worried you a bit.

“A-Are you sure?” You asked, almost laughing in pure nervousness.

“Yes… yes, yes, yes…” His eyebrows kept twitching and frowning as closure suffocated him, his feet still trying to stretch on the wooden floor.

You grabbed the pot sitting in front of you and you put it in his tip, readying yourself for his orgasm. Now all that would come out of him would directly go inside there with no chance of escape. But then Wanderer’s orgasm snapped pretty soon after you did that, making the timing of your placing of the pot perfect.

Wanderer bit his inferior lips again, simply hissing all his way through it instead of just letting those caged moans go for once. All his cum was going to the pot as expected, but you had to do some effort to keep it all together due to how strongly he was cumming. His hips were jerking forwards to the most they could, hand fingers all spread and aggressive with the poor chair.

“Shit!” He also kept insulting the nothing around him out of nowhere for no apparent reason rather than just coping with the high amounts of pleasure being release.

Soon enough, his cock stop twitching inside the pot, signaling you that it was over. So you pulled it out and angled it back to its normal position to make the semen stuck on the walls to drip down to the bottom of the pot. Meanwhile, Wanderer was just completely melted in the chair, breathing in and out heavily to refresh himself.

“Aaaaand…” You voiced as you reached for the jar’s cover and begun spinning around the pot, stopping when it wasn’t possible to do so anymore. “Done!” You cheered excitedly while getting up and moving to your table.

You carefully placed the pot in a corner and grabbed a packet of blank stickers, beginning to rip one off of it to use it, but Wanderer finally recovered his logical thinking.

“Are you not going to untie me?! It was supposed to be the first thing to do!” He complained, sitting his body in the chair normally again.

“Wait.” You said, trying to focus on stick the sticker in the pot in anyway it wouldn’t be curved or off the center in the slightest.

“You better hurry up… It is very uncomfortable to be in this chair…” Wanderer used an ironic tone to complain about you, trying his best to annoy you to get what he wanted.

“You didn’t seem to have a problem with it at first.” You decided to pause your pot-labeling to give him attention, speaking very snobbishly too.

“Yeah, but now I’m just barely sitting naked here with no moving rights!” He resisted your argument, trying to move his arms and legs again to show you how tight he was against that chair.

“Fine, fine…” You got up from your chair and quickly moved to him, wanting to get that extra task done as soon as possible.

And soon enough, as soon as you took off his blindfold and freed his hands, Wanderer zipped his zipped back to its upper end as soon as possible, a loud high-pitched noise accompanying it. And when you were done freeing his legs, he kicked the hanging ropes around it away and quickly moved away, stretching his limbs apart to taste that sensation of freedom again.

“Holy fuck.” Wanderer moaned as he looked at his hand and tested their flexibility, seeing its fingers bend, his thumb rolling, and his wrists, still aching from the ropes, rotating as he commanded them to do so.

But you ignored him to focus on the sticker in the pot again, finally managing to stick it in the place you wanted it to be. Then, you proceeded to grab one of your many pens and, specifically the black one, and open it just to quickly write “Semen” on the almost-transparent red, straight, middle line of the sticker, and pop the cover back to its place in the pen.

“Gee, I hope I never meet another Biomedicine freak like you again…” He suddenly insulted you, which surprisingly made you turn your chair to him because you had a little twist that you forgot to tell him about.

“Well… It’s with this Biomedicine freak you’re stuck with for the rest of the month.” You tried to keep yourself calm, but you knew that would make him confused.

“What?” He turned to you, with a confused expression in his face you which you could take a picture of.

“Throughout the month I’m probably gonna need some more loads of semen to do the testing…” You watched his eyes widening very entertained, trying your best to not laugh.

“What do you mean?” He asked, in the brim of having a panic attack.

“I forgot to mention to you that little fact, but… I’ll eventually need more semen to compare it to this original sample.” You brought the pot to your hands and lightly shook it, showing Wanderer his own sperm. “Unless you want to cancel this and force me to redo everything I’ve done yet… You’ll have to be my provider this whole month!” You said excitedly, knowing damn well it would make him snap.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this before?!” He shook his arms around very stressed.

“Oopsies! Forgot!” You turned your chair back to the table. “If you’re that bothered, I’ll just throw this a—”

“NO!” He screamed, slightly surprising you. “I-I mean… I can’t let this whole shit we just did go to waste!” He explained himself, convincing you to turn back to him again.

“Oh? Or maybe you’re jealous with the thought of me doing that same shit with another man?” You decided to keep teasing him with a smirk in your lips.

“O-Of course not! Why would I ever feel jealous for you?!” As soon as he finished talking, Wanderer wheezed and put his hands in his face, trying to control himself. “I-I’m gonna get going…” His calm, cold tone came back as he spoke and walked around your room.

Since he hadn’t brought anything, all he had to do was leave your room. But right before he actually could slam your door shut and run very far from your apartment, he suddenly walking, and froze in his place for a few seconds before turning back to you.

“Don’t you dare think about throwing that away.” He pointed to your pot very aggressively, body visibly hard as he threatened you.

And the door was finally slammed to its closed state.

Taglist: @bigmantiddys @the-stinky-winky @goofy-ego @kindofshyent @sasuri123 @gaboplaydespacito @thegriffinbird @alatusorrow @luminieee @toobytub @wandereryumee @shy-ent

Don’t forget to like and comment if you liked it! <3

[desi2go]

What if it changed everything?

pt.1 | pt. 2

pairing: idol!Seungmin x reader

warnings: smut, angst, pregnancy, talking about abortion

summary: After a one night of pleasure with a member of the famous kpop group Stray Kids, you find out that you are pregnant. What will you do?

──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────

You didn't know what you were doing outside at this ungodly hour. After finishing up your rather unsuccessful study session at your university's library, you couldn't just calm your mind down. It had made it so difficult to learn, to even think properly.

Exams were coming up and your anxieties weren't really helping. No, they made it even worse.

You had hoped that the cold air on a spring night would clear your mind, shit the intrusive, loud thoughts out.

You didn't even know about what you were wrecking your brain over. It was just too much. Everything. The sudden divorce of your parents and the secret relationship of your father with another woman had turned your world upside down within seconds. And your best friend Sanha was currently going through a breakup herself, crying over her boyfriend who dumped her for another woman.

Now, you had the two of them swimming in their own problems, complaining to you about their unfair treatments.

You felt as if you needed to find solutions to their situations, like the whole weight was burdening your shoulders when you had your own troubles. With your parents not talking to each other, you had become their voice, negotiating between them.

And you? You didn't know how the hell you were going to survive the next few months. Your work place, a little book shop where you got enough money to pay for your rent, had closed suddenly, leaving you with no job and no money.

You could barely afford the college fees even with a job and your parents now had other problems to solve. And applicating at another place was difficult in a city with hundreds of poor students desperate for a little bit of money.

You hoped that the biting cold would soothe your nerves and cool your trailing thoughts just like it cooled your skin. A shiver wrecked your body as you circled your thin jacket tighter around yourself, cursing that you hadn't chosen the thicker one.

It was already way past ten pm. Most people were already at home, leaving the streets quiet and lonely. Just like you felt.

And the fresh air didn't seem to stop your mind, in fact, it made it much more worse. The quietness only fueling the nerves. To relieve some of that, you picked at your nails and chewed at your lip. Bad habits you had picked up long ago.

As you followed the path home to your small apartment, you observed the turbulence inside of the bar. It was the only thing lightening the street apart from the few traffic lights.

The clinking of glass against eachother and the loud laughter lured you inside. It was a Friday evening. So, no classes tomorrow. That meant that you could actually stay up way past your bedtime and sleep in. Very tempting.

If the quietness couldn't stop your mind, maybe the loudness would. A drink or two couldn't hurt, right?

Before actually stepping inside, you stopped yourself as you saw your reflection in the glass door. Knitting your eyebrows, you pulled at your dark grey jacket and the boring jeans.

You looked like a grandma who had been stuck at a library too long. Well, you indeed where at the library for nearly ten hours.

With a final glance, you pushed the heavy wooden door open. Immediately, the smell of beer and sweat flooded your nose.

You couldn't even remember the last time you had attended a party. That must have been ages ago. Only the mere thought of a cool glass of Lillet in your hand made your mouth water.

Yes, that was exactly what you needed. Alcohol and some good music. And maybe even a small little hook up for your nerves that could spice up your (currently nonexistent) sex life.

The muscular bartender immediately took your order and placed the pinkish fluid on the countertop with a smirk. "Here ya go, sweetheart. Looks like you really need it"

You laughed and nodded. "Oh, you can't imagine how much I need that." You nearly moaned as the sweet liquid pooled into your mouth, a faint touch of alcohol burned your throat just the way you liked.

After downing the first glass of your Longdrink, you felt the alcohol spreading in your whole body, warmth gathering in your stomach.

With a pleasant hum, you opened your hair and combed through it with your fingers, moving your foot along the beat if the music. Your body heated up and you shrugged your jacket off to cool your overheating skin.

The bartender placed another filled glass infront of you.

"Whiskey please" You flinched at the voice that seemed only centimeters away. Turning your head, you glanced at the young man sitting down on the chair beside you.

While the bartender worked, you had the opportunity to observe the black haired man more. His short hairstyle revealed a beautiful face with big boba eyes and a cute smile.

His black leather jacket only enhanced his appeal. And before you could actually stare at the mysterious stranger even more, his order was placed down and his hand wrapped around the glass while he turned to you.

"Hey" he mouthed, flashing you with his smile. With his face completely turned to you, you saw how tired he looked. Dark circles permanent under his eyes but never minimizing his beauty.

"Hi" you answered breathy, feeling gummy and red from the alcohol and maybe his attention.

"What is a gorgeous woman like you doing here all alone on a Friday night?" He asked, swirling the content of his glass before placing it on his lips and drinking. Your eyes followed the brownish liquid to his small, perfect lips.

"Drowning my thoughts and you? Rough day?" He chuckled at your assumption. His eyes sparkled sheepishly.

"You aren't wrong. I really had a hard day. And now, I'm just trying to distract my mind from the upcoming stress" he replied, ordering another round.

"I'm Seungmin by the way"

You chuckled and took his hand that he had stretched out towards you. "Nice to meet Seungmin. I'm Y/n"

"Y/n" he mouthed loudly as if he liked the way it rolled of his tongue. "I love the sound of your name" he flirted with a smirk.

Without thinking, you giggled, feeling the redness pooling into your cheeks like a stupid teenager.

"Well, thank you. Yours is really fine too." The black haired man nodded with a hum, his hand brushing yours briefly that sat on the cool wooden countertop as if it was nothing.

You liked the way he looked at you. With longing and desire, something you hadn't felt for so long since you were always busy keeping up with classes and your job. But Seungmin seemed to push the right buttons and you were convinced that he wasn't just good in flirting.

"Do you have any plans tonight, Y/n?" He questioned after drowning the second glass of whiskey. His whole body was still turned towards you on the bar stool as his hand graced yours again. But now, he actually rested his hand over yours, caressing your tender skin.

Immediately, you shook your head no. You had nothing to do other than ravishing and spend the night with him.

"I have no plans yet" you shrugged, chugging the last bit of your Lillet and letting your tongue run over your lips to wet them. You liked the way his eyes couldn't concentrate on your own and travelled down to your mouth in unvoiced desire.

"I think we both have earned a distraction from our churning thoughts, haven't we?" He whispered into your ear as his hand travelled up over your exposed arm which sent shivers along your spine in pure bliss.

Like in a trance, you nodded firmly, earning a happy smile from him.

"How about you accompany me to my apartment which is only a few houses away and we spent some time together? How does that sound?"

You gulped. You knew that there were some crazy people who lure women like you with sentences like that into misery. People who would force and rape you only to leave you behind on a dark alley like trash afterwards.

But was Seungmin really that type of guy? Well, the victims hadn't thought about their rapist as a threat first either.

While your mind reminded you about the traumatising article about a woman who had just been raped, you said fuck it. You were sick of your ever working brain with the stupids thoughts that never leave you alone.

Now, they could all quiet down. You weren't listening. Not this once.

"Sounds wonderful. Let me just pay for my drinks and we are good to go" you answered with a smile, calling the bartender over. As you searched through your purse for your credit card, Seungmin placed a hand on your shoulder, getting your attention.

You lifted your gaze. "No need. I'll pay for us" he winked at you and you immediately bowed your head, thankful for his kindness while blush crept up your cheeks.

"Thank you so much" you mumbled shyly. Seungmin brushed it off and helped you up after paying. "I can't let such a gorgeous woman pay for herself. Then, I wouldn't be a gentleman" he smirked and winked at you playfully.

You laughed amused, finding your jacket on the rack and quickly slipping it on.

"well, you are indeed a gentleman" you mused as he held the door open for you and immediately returned to your side to show you the way.

The way back to his apartment was filled with some small talk and a comfortable silence. Despite his obvious confidence in all his actions, you found out that he was actually the type of guy who rather listens than talks much.

And you definitely didn't mind that. You were quite the yapper and loved to talk. Sadly, your words often hit deaf ears since most people shut off after a while. But Seungmin?

Whenever you stopped yourself from sharing too much, he asked the right questions in the right moments. You knew this would be just a normal fling, a one night stand, absolutely nothing serious, but this little gesture warmed your heart, making him even more attractive to you. And you couldn't stop it. Maybe it was the alcohol that ran through your system or your nonexistent love life but it was sad that you were only a little fuck for him. From your observations, he was totally boyfriend coded.

Five minutes later, you found yourself in a luxurious apartment, too luxurious for a man in his early twenties. You gulped as you saw his clean living room, held in black and white.

He chuckled at your big eyes. "I'm often travelling around. That's why it looks so untouched" he brushed his hand over your exposed arm, letting goosebumps spread over your skin.

You finally let your eyes wander to him, his attractive smile and those brown eyes that sparkled sheepishly. Playfully, you winked at him, bringing your arms confidently around his neck and leaned in.

Tenderly, you brushed your lips against his neck, feeling him suck air in. "We can make it feel homely"

Almost immediately, his lips crashed against yours, pushing you against the grey wall behind you. "Absolutely love that idea" he mused before caressing your red lips with his tongue, pleading to get into your mouth.

With a moan, you opened up for him, clawing at his t-shirt to pull him closer. One of his long legs, pushed between yours and you could feel the warmth pooling into your belly.

This was exactly what you needed right now.

Him. At this moment.

You didn't need to think. You just followed your intuition, letting him take the reins so that you could just enjoy.

And you did exactly that. Enjoying.

You enjoyed how his lips felt against yours. How his hands travelled to your thighs and pushed you upwards in a sudden, practised movement that left you gasping. You enjoyed how he lifted you up like you weight nothing while your tongues collided inside of your mouth.

Loudly, you moaned into his mouth as you felt his bulge through his jeans, your heels digging into his ass to rub yourself against him in a teasing manner. The reaction was immediate. The shudder and the little rut against your body spoke words. He really needed that as much as you did.

With quick and powerful strides, he carried you deeper into the apartment, into the bedroom and let you fall onto the huge bed. The soft mattress cushioned your fall as you bounced slightly. You spread yourself out over the big, soft blanket, watching the black haired man in front of you like a hawk its prey.

Seungmin quickly got rid of his t-shirt.

And oh boy, he looked fine as hell.

His chest was slightly toned, muscles showing underneath his smooth skin as he struggled slightly to strip off his jeans. You felt how the heat gathered in your abdomen, longing for that hot man right in front of you.

Finally, he had won the war against his trousers and stood in all his glory, only dressed in his black boxers, right there. The fire in his eyes matched your own as he slowly got onto the bed like a predator sneaking up to its prey, ready to eat you.

"Let's get that off of you" he murmured, voice thick with desire. You only nodded and kissed him back while he opened the button to your jeans and helped you out of it. Soon, your top followed.

"So hot" he growled, burying his fingers in your hair and slightly pulling at it while he pushed your back down to the bed. His hands roamed your body like he owned it.

You moaned as he pushed his body over yours and made quick work of your bra that landed on the ground right next to your other clothes. His hands found your breast and kneaded them, making you mewl in pleasure.

His lips captured your own again. You clinged to him, nails in his back to keep him close, and undulate under him, body hot and desperate. He dropped his boxers, letting his hard cock swing free, and it’s impressive. You felt yourself lick your lips like a predator at the sight.

With one hand, he digged through his bedside table in search for a condom. His erection was plump and stood straight up as he slid the condom over his length, your eyes never leaving his moves. While he prepared himself, you slipped out of your panties, waiting for him.

He was back on top of you, his sheer presence pushing you down, making you flatten out against the mattress. His lips were on you, and it’s like he had reached deep up into some secret, hidden spot inside of you and flicked a switch.

With every fibre of his being, you burned. Melting into a puddle of pure want under his kiss. He shifted on top of you, and then you felt it.

His cock pressed deep inside of you, and you felt like you might come right then and there. He used his palms to prop himself up above you, and he found his steady rhythm that lit fire in your veins.

You could tell that he was trying to go slow at first, trying to let you settle, but he was just as desperate as you were. Confidently, you pressed your hips back against his, making him hiss in pleasure as he felt how tight you were, massaging his length delicately.

You taking the initiative was all the encouragement he needed. It was like he had turned a switch off and started pounding you like there is no tomorrow.

And god, you loved it.

The bedroom was filled with the sound of hips slapping against eachother, mixing with the moans and pants from both of you. His harsh movements unlocked something inside of you.

You were panting, sweating, aching your body up against his and all you could think of was getting more. More, more, more, even when you already felt filled to the brim, even when you felt completely overwhelmed by the pleasure.

His breath became ragged and uneven, his skins was heated up against yours and you could feel yourself quickly approaching that taut, sharp peak.

"I'm close" you moaned, stretching your chest against his at the dragging of his cock against your walls. Your fingers clawed at his shoulders, digging into the soft skin.

"Me too" you heard him whisper in your ear as his lips kissed that sweet spot on your neck that made you see stars.

Right when you were vibrating on the edge, your whole body quaking, your thighs locked around his hips, he slammed his cock into you.

And that's all it took. You screamed, a scream that ripped out of your chest and through your whole body as you came. You were still feeling, spinning out when you felt him shudder and doing some final rocks against you as he came too. He groaned against your shoulder in pure bliss.

When you started to catch your breath, the weight of his body was warm and comfortable on top of you. You slipped your fingers into his hair and felt his heartbeat slowing down against yours. You two stayed like that for a long while, just breathing, before you sighed.

"I probably should head back to my place" you murmured, slipping from his bed and collecting your clothes from the ground you had dropped so carelessly.

Seungmin turned to his side, holding his haed up with his hand, not caring that his whole body was on display. With judging eyes, he stared at you for a moment and then to the clock on his bedside table.

"It's already two am in the morning. I'm not gonna let you walk home." He countered with finality, pushing his chin up in confidence.

Knitting your eyebrows, you replied. "And what should I do then?"

"Stay here for the night." He shrugged, giving you a playful smirk.

"Really? You're sure? I'm a total stranger" you retorted, pulling your shirt over your head.

A snort left his mouth. "I'm a total stranger too. And yet, you're here and just had sex with me"

You opened your mouth to reply but you couldn't deny that he was right. You indeed had trusted him even though you only knew his name.

Well, it looked like you didn't have any other option and if you were honest, you didn't have it within you right now to walk all the way back to your apartment in the darkness alone.

"Alright. I stay" you sighed, rolling your eyes at his teasing smirk.

❤☯❤

The next morning you woke up in warm arms that circled around your waist and kept you close. His mouth was resting on your exposed shoulder, making you shudder comfortable with every exhale. With your back pressed against his front, you must say that this position was extremely comfortable.

Seungmin was still deep asleep behind you but you just couldn't go back to sleep, being sad that this one night stand ended here.

Last night was fun. So much fun like you hadn't experienced in the last year. Finally, your mind had shot off and let your rest for the night. And now, you felt even more relaxed and recharged than ever. Maybe Sanha, your best friend, was right when she nudged you to have more fun, to make more out of your life than just studying.

After some time, you decided to check your phone. It was 10:39 am and you had 18 missed calls from your best friend. Shit, you had totally forgotten to tell her and usually, you and Sanha had breakfast together at her apartment every single Saturday.

She was definitely going to kill you. At first for not texting her where you were and then for not coming. You were so fucked.

Sannie: Y/n L/n! Answer your goddamn phone! Where the heck are you? Are you still sleeping?

Sannie: You are so late for our breakfast! Answer!

Sannie: Is everything alright? Hello? Did you turn your phone off?

Sannie: Y/n?

You felt so bad for forgetting her and your shared breakfast. And you knew with how dramatic she was that she would still complain about it years ago.

Y/n: I'm so sorry, Sannie! I totally forgot!

Immediately, she responded.

Sannie: How the heck can you forget your best friend?

Y/n: Well, I followed your advice and had some fun last night.

Sannie: WAIT! REALLY? Oh my god! Yes!

Sannie: How was it? Tell me everything! Right now!!! Come over, quickly!

Y/n: I'm still at his apartment so I can't come over right now. But it was great! I had so much fun and you were right, it really helped me destressing.

Sannie: You are still there? Oh my god! There will definitely a part two!

Y/n: I'm gonna tell as soon as I walk out of his apartment!

Sannie: You better be

Seungmin shifted behind you, causing you to drop your phone.

"Good morning" he said in his deep, raspy morning voice.

"Well, good morning to you too"

He gave you a sleepy smile before rolling off the bed and slipping into his boxers. You sighed contently and dressed yourself in your old clothes from yesterday while the black haired man walked into the kitchen.

"Do you want a coffee?" He questions as soon as you entered the room after making you look presentable in the bathroom.

You nodded your head quietly and sat down on a stool, thanking him when he placed the steaming mug in front of you.

The quiet was comfortable. But it seemed like Seungmin wanted to say something.

"You have absolutely no idea who I am, right?" He asked, brushing his hands through his tousled hair.

Confused, you shook your head no. "No? Should I?"

He grinned. "Well, I am Seungmin of Stray Kids." Your whole face was drained out of colour and you were sure that you were whiter than the wall in the kitchen. Sanha loved that group and sometimes you even listened to their songs. But you never had made the effort to memorise the member's faces.

"Oh my god" you mumbled. Sanha won't believe you.

"And that's why I need you to sign this NDA." He placed some pieces of paper down with a pen, nudging you to read and sign it.

❤☯❤

"You will never know who I saw today!" Sanha, your best friend called out as soon as she pushed the door to your apartment open.

It was a normal Tuesday late afternoon for both of you. While you had classes up until four pm, Sanha worked at a small bakery and always came to your apartment afterwards.

Nearly five weeks ago, you had that wonderful one night stand with the black haired man and everything was normal. You went to college, studied, searched for a job. Nothing had changed.

"Who?" You answered, nibbling on the backside of your pen while your best friend for years let herself fall onto your bed behind you.

"My dear Ex! He was in the bakery with his new girlfriend!" She exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air in agitation. "As if the breakup wasn't hard for me. And now he decided to show his new lover off at my workplace. I bet he just wanted to piss me off" she growled angrily.

Well, since you couldn't concentrate on studying anymore, you pushed yourself off your desk chair and jumped onto the bed next to her.

She huffed loudly. "Such an asshole. First he dumped you unceremoniously and now he does shit like that" you shook your head and comforted her with a welcoming hug.

Those situations weren't new since Sanha's relationship had ended so fast. Often, you found yourself comforting her for hours without end while she cried in your arms from the humiliation she had faced. So, this wasn't something new.

But today, something is different. And it hadn't to do with your best friend.

For a week you had felt a little off, almost as if you had catched a cold. Your muscles ached and sometimes, your head hurt like it was beaten with hammers.

"You know, Sannie. There are tons of other guys out there that would love to be your boyfriend. You just need to wait and find the right one" you emphasized, sitting up to brush some strands of hair behind her ear.

But the sudden movement made you feel light headed and sick. Before your best friend could answer, you lunged off the bed.

"One sec!" You exclaimed and booked it across the apartment to your bathroom, your friend trailing close behind in worry.

"What's wrong? Y/n!" She called out in terror, not having expected you to sprint.

You didn't even care to close the door behind your form. Right now, that wasn't your problem.

There was no time.

You hunched over the toilet and immediately retched and puked. Sanha had trailed in too, holding your hair out of your way while she rubbed your back soothingly.

Sighing, you braced yourself over the bowl once it was over.

What the hell?

You felt completely fine just minutes ago. So what was this?

"Is everything fine?" Your friend asked concerned. You shrugged your shoulders.

"I don't know why I felt so nauseous from one time to the other. Maybe it was the sushi from yesterday"

She knitted her eyebrows. "Then, I would feel sick right now too." She thought, bringing you a damp wash cloth to wipe your mouth with.

What the hell was this? It couldn't be food poisoning since you ate nothing but eggs on toast this morning and nothing else that could have become bad.

Sanha sat down next to you. "Haven't you told me that you felt achy all week long?" You nodded, not knowing what she was up to.

"You and that guy five weeks ago - what was his name again?"

"Seungmin"

"Ah, right. Seungmin - did you use protection?"

You stopped in your tracks, not even breathing as you recalled what happened five weeks ago. Yes, he definitely used a condom and had taken your pill. Wait- you had forgotten it that night since you weren't home at 10 pm which was the usual time you took your pill. Fuck. Your eyes grew big.

"Did you?" Sanha added impatiently, staring at you in horror.

"Yes - I mean. We used a condom. But I remember that I didn't take my pill since I came home the next morning. Do you think the condom had a hole or was ripped? Do you think I'm pregnant?" Your whole body shook and your voice was hoarse.

No, you couldn't let your brain go there. But there was an unrelenting, nagging thought. Or... The thought alone was enough to draw up another batch of puke, and you threw yourself forward, emptying the last remains of your breakfast into the toilet.

You're seriously.... seriously...fucked.

❤☯❤

Tick, tack.

Tick, tack.

Tick, tack.

You swore if you would sit here for another hour, you were going to throw that damn clock out of the window. And the time didn't even seem to pass. It was like the time had slowed down only to mock you.

Sitting in the waiting room of the tiny hospital near your apartment wasn't the best thing you could do on a Monday morning. Technically, you were even skipping your classes but you didn't spend any mind to that. This was important. Life changing important.

You couldn't believe you were actually here. You shouldn't be here at all. And yet, here you sat, annoyed by that damn clock.

But the ongoing nausea since last week's Tuesday didn't leave any room for arguments. With every day that passed and you were still puking your guts out, especially in the morning, the chance of food poisoning grew slimmer and slimmer.

Maybe you just caught a strange cold? A new disease? Anything. You would take anything as an answer but not the one you dreaded the most at the moment.

And the way the nurse at the front desk looked at you. So pitiful and soothing was so annoying and didn't actually help. You bet that she thought how sad it was for a 22 year old to turn out pregnant when the father wasn't even here. His absence clearly told her everything she needed to know.

Your left arm hurt a bit where the nurse had drawn blood from you for the pregnancy test, a cute little plaster now covering the skin.

Nervously, you were picking at your nails, not actually focusing on the people that entered the waiting room.

As the shuffling came to an halt and the person sat down right in front of you, you cared to look up from your stress hobby.

You stilled in your actions when you realised who stared back at you just like you did. The black hair, the brown eyes and that gorgeous mouth.

It was Seungmin.

Fuck, you were truly fucked.

He recognised you as well, giving you a charming smile as he sat up with a grimace. From what you could observe, his hand was hurt judging by how he carefully held his hand up with the other

Your big eyes and your open mouth made him chuckle. "Hello again, Y/n" he greeted.

Calm down, you thought. He didn't know why you're here. You have nothing to fear. He won't find out. "It's nice to see you too, Seungmin" you replied after taking a deep breath which was difficult with how much your heart hammered against your ribcage.

"Why are you-" he started again but couldn't finish his sentence as another nurse entered the waiting room.

"Mrs. Y/n L/n, the gynecologist is ready to see you now" she waved you over with a smile. Quickly, you shot up, feeling Seungmin's hot stare on your back. Well, now, he most definitely knew or at least suspected. He was too smart not to.

You pushed the growing anxiety forcefully away when you sat down on the chair, taking deep breaths again to stop your racing heart. Come on, stay calm, you mumbled. Everything's going to turn out fine. Now focus on the right now.

Like a mantra, you repeated those words until your gynecologist entered with your case tucked carefully underneath his arm. His friendly smile brought warmth and soothing.

“I see you’re here to get a pregnancy test. Is that correct?” he said, sitting down behind the table and typed something into his computer.

You gulped and looked at your feet in shame. “Yes.”, you mumbled.

“And when was the last time you had sex?” He tapped his fingers once against the keyboard, but his eyes locked onto yours.

"six weeks ago" you answered truthfully. He hummed and wrote that piece of information down.

"Alright. I got your blood samples back and you have a high percentage of oestrogens which indicates a pregnancy. Congratulations" he stated, giving you a kind smile.

In that moment it was as if your whole world came crashing down on you. Now, that nightmare was confirmed, there was no sense of convincing yourself that you're not pregnant. To say that you were shocked was an understatement.

"I would like to do a quick ultrasound to check how the fetus is developing" with a grand gesture, he guided you to the examination table.

You gulped as you laid down, belly exposed. Your hands were clutched together over your chest and the cold gel on your belly made you shiver slightly.

He started the machine and brushed over your belly with practised movements. The screen showed the inside of your belly, well, you hoped that it was your belly since you couldn't recognise anything.

"From what I can see, the fetus looks good and is developing right"

"Is- is there already a heartbeat?" You fidgeted with your fingers, turning your head.

He hummed and pressed a few buttons. "You are six weeks pregnant and actually, we should be able to hear it" Only seconds later, the room was filled with fast and steady heartbeats. Your own heart jumped at the sound and you needed to stop yourself from cooing. This was your baby.

"Do you want a photo?" He asked and without even thinking, you nodded eagerly.

"As I assume, this pregnancy wasn't planned, right?"

Still in shock, you just nodded your head, combing through your hair in a soothing manner, at least that was what it was suppose to do.

"I'm not saying that you need to decide now. You still have time whether or not to keep the baby. I just want to give you the opportunity to choose." He explained, grabbing a bunch of brochures from his desk and placed them in front of you.

"Thank you" you mumbled, putting them in your bag after cleaning yourself with some paper towels.

Before exiting the examination room, he gave you the ultrasound photo of your little bean which you safely tucked inside of your bag, away from prying eyes. You stopped in your movements shortly as you grabbed the handle.

What if Seungmin was still sitting outside? What if he waited to confront you? But you couldn't stay here all day. Sooner or later, you needed to get out of the room.

Nervously, you poked your head out and sighed when you didn't see him right away in the waiting room which meant he had been called to the doctor already. That might leave you with enough time to get the hell out of there.

But still, you peeled into every corner or turn, just to be sure that he wasn't waiting for you in one of the hallways. On top of that, you felt like a little paranoid since every single time a person walked behind you and you heard their footsteps echoing through the long room, you quickly whipped your head around to check.

Another sigh left your lips as you exited the hospital, enjoying the warming sun. In only six weeks, the starting, early spring had developed into a much more friendlier version. For a minute you enjoyed the warmth on your skin and the smell of the prospering flowers. Then, you decided to better get going and rummaged through your bag in order to find the keys for your bike.

After another minute, you triumphantly smiled and lifted the key into the air. In your clumsiness, you let it fall to the ground. Sighing, you reached down to the ground to pick it up again but stilled as a voice called out your name from afar.

"Y/n!" You jumped slightly and quickly perked up to see who was calling out for you. In confusion, you looked around, only to find Seungmin walking, towards you from the hospital entrance. His hand was wrapped in bandages but still, he came towards you.

His face contorted in pain and you actually contemplated to jump on your bike and get the hell out of here. But you couldn't do that. You weren't an asshole.

As Seungmin came to an halt in front of you, his curious eyes observed your form. Nervously, his gaze shooting from your face to your covered belly.

Shit, he definitely knew something was up.

"Why were you in the hospital?" He asked, voice tight.

You played with the key in your hands, affectively avoiding his judging gaze.

"Yeah, I- I just had a check up" you explained evasively.

He wetted his lips with his tongue, stepping slightly closer.

"Y/n, why were you in the hospital?" His voice grew softer with each word, almost pleadingly, and his eyes searching your gaze.

You took a deep breath, heart hammering in your chest. Panic flooded your veins since you knew you couldn't postpone that conversation. He was clearly suspecting what you hided. Due to the lack answers he got from you, he sighed, his hand land on top of his big hat that concealed most of his head.

"Are you pregnant?" He whispered as if he was afraid to voice those words out loud. You gulped and finally looked him in the eyes while you gave him a sad, broken smile. Your hands were shaking from the panic in your veins.

This was the moment you had dreaded the most. How would he react? Would he want to be in the baby's life? Would he turn around as if it wasn't his business too?

You weren't even sure what you wanted to do with the new information about the growing life inside of you! Should you keep it? Yes? No? You didn't know. You mind was running on high speed with the amount of thinking you did.

"Seungmin-I" before you could dodge his question, he asked again.

"You are pregnant, right? That's why you're here" he stated, looking for the answer in your eyes. His pleading look was heartbreaking and you could see how much this affected him.

You knew there was no escape. You had to voice it out loud or he wouldn't let you get home.

"Yes. I am" you mumbled, looking down shamefully. That was the first time you were saying those words out loud and now, this whole situation became suddenly much more realistic and true.

The black haired boy ran his uninjured hand over his face while taking a deep breath. "Is it mine?" His voice broke.

"Yes" you replied quietly, too afraid to be the victim of his anger. "I wasn't sexually active before and after. Plus, the doctor said that I was six weeks along"

He nodded understandingly, taking another deep breath to stop the anxiety that flooded his veins. He was just 22 years old - how could he be fitting to be a father? But something didn't sit right in his mind.

"Wait - we used a condom. I never have intercourse without one" he stated, judging your shaking form to analyse if you were lying or not.

"Yes, but it must have ripped or had a hole." You explained truthfully since their wasn't any other possibility for you to get pregnant.

"Shit" he mumbled, gulping and massaging his neck to relieve the stress.

Despite the circumstances, you were calming down. Now, you didn't need to hide that big secret from anyone anymore. Which lifted a huge rock from your heart. Now, you had someone who could help you along the way, wether you kept the baby or not.

"I-I can't do that. I'm an idol and only 22! I-I can't be a father right now." Seungmin mumbled like a mantra. His eyes not focused on you anymore.

"I know. I'm afraid too" you soothed. You couldn't believe that you were soothing him right now, when you were the one pregnant.

"No, I-I can't deal with that right now. I-I need to go" he exclaimed, panicking and quickly stepping backwards.

"Seungmin, wait!" You answered in shock. Never you had thought that he would react that way. But you couldn't force him to stay.

You weren't his girlfriend, only some strangers who had hocked up. He had no responsibilities. A one night stand that had created new life.

You let him go. Despite your own panic, you tried to stay calm, try to think for the little bean inside you. Sure, you were frustrated about his reaction but you understood it.

With a sigh, you turned around again and tried to unlock your bike's lock with your shaking fingers. Silently you cursed yourself for thinking that he would understand and help you, at least to find a solution together. But you were wrong. He just seemed to think about himself, about his life that will change. But what about you? You were the one pregnant! You didn't even know if you could continue college!

❤☯❤

"So, what's your plan now?" Sanha asked, walking into your small living room with a bowl of popcorn in her hands. You shrugged your shoulders, sighing and spreading the prospects over the coffee table.

"I don't know. I don't know if I should keep it or get rid of it!" You exclaimed, diving into the bowl and immediately popped it into your mouth. Stress eating always helped you. Wether it was stress from exams, your parent's divorce or now the sudden pregnancy. Eating always helps.

Sanha rubbed your tense shoulders, giving you a comforting hug. " I know it's a huge decision. But you don't need to choose today. And no matter how you decide - I will help you, okay?"

You smiled at her thankfully. "I love you" you whispered, tears in your eyes.

"I love you too" It was such a good feeling to know that someone will be there for you, even though it's not the father.

"We need to do pros and cons!" Sanha exclaimed in a loud voice, jumping up from the couch and rummaging through a drawer until she found paper and a pen.

You sighed. That was going to be a long night.

❤☯❤

"Okay, stop guys!" Chan exclaimed angrily, stopping their dance practise once again. With a sigh, he shut off the music of their newest title track and turned to his members.

"What's going on Seungmin? You keep making so much mistakes today. What's on your mind that you can't even get the easiest parts right?" He wanted to know from the black haired, his voice turning softer with concern.

They all had flopped to the floor, panting and sweating since they were practicing for a few hours now.

"I fucked up, hyung, I fucked up big time" Seungmin covered his face with his hands.

"It's okay, Minnie. Tell us" Minho nudged, brushing his hair out of his face.

"I hooked up with a girl a few weeks ago"

"That's great, isn't it? You sure had a lot of fun" Hyunjin cheered, wiggling his eyebrows. Felix snorted, grinning widely, while Chan groaned, wiping the sweat from his eyes. "Oh please tell me you let her sign a NDA" he murmured, his voice threatening.

"No, of course I had her sign!" Seungmin exclaimed.

"Then what is the problem, Minnie?" Jisung wanted to know. "Was she that bad?" Hyunjin added. Vehemently, the black haired shook his head.

"Did you fell in love with your one night stand?" Jeongin teased. Well, Seungmin didn't expect that. Blinking, he felt warmth spreading over his cheeks. "That-That's not the point!"

Changbin giggled. "Don't say you have a crush on her from only seeing her once!"

"Seungmin is in love! Seungmin is in love!" Minho sing-sang playfully. The black haired sighed in defeat, rubbing his eyes in exhaustion.

"She's pregnant, okay!?" He yelled over his friend's chattering, voice cracking in defeat.

For a moment, everything went silent. Everyone stared at him in disbelief, too stunned to speak as if they tried to figure out if he was joking or not.

"Is that a joke, Seungmin? Because it better is" Chan cleared his throat, trying to stay calm. Seungmin just shook his head, eyes trailing down to the floor.

"How did that happen? Why didn't you use protection?" Felix asked, brushing through Seungmin's hair to soothe him.

"My condom ripped or had a hole" he murmured, earning a deep sigh from Chan.

"Shit" Changbin whispered, hugging him from behind. "What have you two decided to do?"

The younger one just shrugged his shoulders, lip trembling from the emotions he felt. "I don't know"

Minho knitted his eyebrows. "You don't know? But you have spoken to her about that, right?"

In shame, Seungmin looked away. "I panicked after she told me and I said I couldn't do this and ran away" he admitted.

Hyunjin cleared his throat. "Well, you're an asshole"

"Honestly, I would have slapped you" Jeongin stated, shaking his head in disbelief.

"I know! I was an ass. But this whole situation overwhelmed me! I can't be a parent at 22"

"And you aren't the one who is pregnant, Seungmin. She didn't want to be in that situation either and is probably scared too." Chan replied, patting Seungmin's shoulder.

"You need to speak to her. It isn't just her fault and you both need to find a solution together" Felix exclaimed, joining into the hug.

"Thank you all" Seungmin mumbled as all the members enveloped him and now, he just needed to find you.

❤☯❤

The days blurred together after your confrontation with Seungmin. You knew that he wouldn't seek you out again but still, something deep inside you didn't loose the hope that he would suddenly stand in front of you with an apology and maybe a jar of pickles you craved at the moment.

Officially, you were now a little bit over eight weeks pregnant and the ongoing nausea tortured you more and more.

Together with Sanha, you had weighed the pros and cons of keeping the baby. If it weren't for your education and money problems, you would have chosen otherwise but now, you couldn't give the baby a good life. That's why you had decided to terminate the pregnancy.

It was a big decision and it had costed you several tissue boxes and tons of ice cream but it was better that way, especially when you didn't have anyone to help you.

Despite your inner turmoil, you had booked an appointment a week ago at a specialised clinic for the small operation. They had informed you that it wouldn't take long, only two hours and the little life within you would be gone, gone forever.

The walk to the clinic was cruel, like you would walk to a funeral. The funeral of your small little bean, like you had named the fetus. Shame washed over you when you saw the small clinic from afar. Every step made you more anxious and scared.

While your brain, the rational part of you, knew that this was the only good decision, your heart screamed at you to just turn around and walk away. Walk away from loosing your baby that couldn't even meet yet. And the worst part?

You loved kids and you always wanted some of your own. And honestly? You could imagine keeping the baby, no, you would if you could.

The uneasiness spread when you greeted the receptionist and told you to sit down.

Tick, tack.

Tick, tack.

Tick, tack.

Just like in the hospital, there was this horrible clock but this time, it didn't agitate you. No, this time, it felt like a countdown and with each second that passed, you couldn't turn around and go. It was only a few hours until the fate of your little bean would be sealed.

Anxiously, you tapped your foot against the white tiles, desperately wanting to get this over with so you couldn't back down. Inside, you felt like a coward. There were so many couples around the world who had troubles conceiving or having miscarriage. And here you were, with a healthy fetus, waiting to get rid of it.

You flinched when your name was called and quickly hurried into the small examination room.

"So, Miss Y/n. How are we feeling today?" The nice elderly woman greeted you.

"Okay, I guess" you shrugged your shoulders, sitting down for the prep talk.

"Alright. You already know that this is a minimal invasive operation and afterwards, you can go as soon as the narcosis wears off but it's safer to have someone to get you."

Distantly, you nodded since you had already asked for Sanha to get you afterwards. Without noticing, your hands glided to your abdomen as if you wanted to protect the little bean.

"So, with that being clarified, you just need to sign this allowance that you have agreed to the operation and then, a nurse will fetch you and give you a remedy that will open your cervix in approximately an hour." The elderly woman explained, sliding the allowance over the table for you to read along with a pen.

Friendly, she smiled. "Alright, you can give that to the nurse when it's signed" with that, she lead you out of the room for you to sit in the waiting area again.

Your stomach churned as you read sentence after sentence. The described procedure sounded brutal but through the narcosis, you wouldn't feel a thing and the baby, well, it wouldn't be there afterwards. That's how your shared time will end.

You felt ashamed that you chose the easiest way and you wouldn't fight for the little bean. After finishing reading, you opened the pen and were about to leave your signature underneath but as you positioned the pen on the paper, you stilled again as if an invisible force held your hand firmly.

Honestly, even if the circumstance were bad and you hadn't planned to get pregnant, you had grown quite attached to the little bean. Maybe this were your hormones talking but suddenly, the feeling of shame and guilt crashed over you more than ever before.

Tears sprang into your eyes, blurring your vision. Why couldn't you just sign that damn allowance and continue your life how it was used to be? Would that make you a bad person? No, but an extremely guilty one.

You let the pen sink. No, you couldn't do it. You just couldn't. Maybe your parents could help you with your financials and some girls in college had already a kid or were pregnant. You could do it, with a little help, it was possible.

Quickly, you grabbed your purse and placed the allowance on the receptionist's table who gave you a surprised look.

"I'm sorry but I can't" with that, you quickly turned and exited the clinic, already phone in hand to call Sanha.

Immediately, she picked up.

"Y/n? Already finished?" She asked surprised and you heard her scrambling to get going.

"No, No. I couldn't" you answered, one hand rubbing over your belly absently.

"What?"

"I couldn't. I'm keeping the baby" you whispered, reality hitting you full force and brought tears into your eyes.

"Wait. Really?" Her scrambling stopped, impatiently waiting for your answer.

"Yes" you murmured, a small smile creating on your lips.

Her reaction was immediate. "Oh my fucking god! I'm gonna be an aunt! Hell ya!" She yelled through the phone, causing you to quickly bring some distance between you and the phone.

You chuckled. "I don't know if that's a good idea" you teased, internally loving the way she reacted.

"Stop that! You know what a good auntie I'll be!" She exclaimed outraged and you could visualise her how she put her hands at her sides.

"Little bean is going to be extremely lucky" you mused.

"We need to celebrate! I'm coming over with alcohol and ice-cream!" She exclaimed happily. "Wait - no alcohol for the mama! I'll get you some ice tea instead" she corrected herself immediately.

You giggled. Mama. That's a name you need to grow used to. But actually, you couldn't wait for your baby to say it for the first time.

author's note: just wanting to say that there is nothing wrong with abortions! I can understand everyone who chooses to do one and this is just how I would probably decide for myself if I ever got pregnant unplanned!

[heesimp]

more stepbro!hee and stepsister!reader who fuck on a livestream!!! so hotttt

don’t like, don’t read.

+++++

It gets him off and he knows it gets his viewers off too. Only, none of them know your room is actually across from his and your parents have no idea how the two of you are making rent.

When you both moved out for university, it was a no brainer that you’d move in with Heeseung after completing community college. His roommate was graduating and you were transferring to his university, so your mom thought it was the perfect way to save money and have somebody close by who can protect you while showing you the ropes. Heeseung’s dad agreed, too. By the week before the semester started, you were settled into his place.

Your parents live two hours away. It’s far from your family and far from anybody who might know the two of you. Here, you’re allowed to be more than stepbrother and stepsister. At college, you can be anything you want.

The two of you start fucking the second your parents fly back home.

It’s past September and Heeseung’s figured out that live streaming makes more money than working his shitty part time job. Your on campus job barely pays either, so you agree to start having sex online as a way to make income while hooking up with Heeseung.

Stepsis Lets Her Pervy Stepbro Fuck Her Pussy For Hours

He’s got your chest pressed against the mattress in a high arch with your ass presented to him. He faces the camera, chiseled body on display while his hands smooth down your back and grip your ass as he lazily fucks into your hole.

Heeseung looks at the monitor for comments while you clench around his cock.

“My stepsis is so fuckable, isn’t she?” He asks, pushing his hips into you until you’re a moaning mess. “God, wish you guys could feel how fucking tight she is.”

And it’s your niche. It gets people tipping like crazy and requesting different positions and scenarios, one you’re both too willing to play into because the two of you are step siblings.

There’s no reason for you to know what Heeseung’s cock tastes like or for him to know what you look like with his cum on your ass. And yet, he does.

“How many rounds can we last?” He asks while reading off the screen. He looks down at you. “What do you say to that, Sis?”

[jangillman]

TIM ALLEN - ON TRUMP: Whatever your feelings for Trump, these are some interesting points that Tim Allen makes. Put your hatred aside and think about these observations. Tim Allen is credited with writing this ...

Tim Allen wrote... Here are some interesting points to think about prior to 2020, especially to my friends on the fence, like moderate Democrats, Libertarians and Independents and the never Trump Republicans and those thinking of "walking away" from the Democratic party:

- Women are upset at Trump’s naughty words -- they also bought 80 million copies of 50 Shades of Gray.

- Not one feminist has defended Sarah Sanders. It seems women’s rights only matter if those women are liberal.

- No Border Walls. No voter ID laws. Did you figure it out yet? But wait... there's more...

- Chelsea Clinton got out of college and got a job at NBC that paid $900,000 per year. Her mom flies around the country speaking out about white privilege. And just like that, they went from being against foreign interference in our elections to allowing non-citizens to vote in our elections.

- President Trump’s wall costs less than the Obamacare website. Let that sink in, America!

- We are one election away from open borders, socialism, gun confiscation, and full-term abortion nationally. We are fighting evil.

- They sent more troops and armament to arrest Roger Stone than they sent to defend Benghazi.

- 60 years ago, Venezuela was 4th on the world economic freedom index. Today, they are 179th and their citizens are dying of starvation. In only 10 years, Venezuela was destroyed by democratic socialism.

- Russia donated $0.00 to the Trump campaign. Russia donated $145,600,000 to the Clinton Foundation. But Trump was the one investigated!

- Nancy Pelosi invited illegal aliens to the State of the Union. President Trump Invited victims of illegal aliens to the State of the Union. Let that sink in.

- A socialist is basically a communist who doesn’t have the power to take everything from their citizens at gunpoint ... Yet!

- How do you walk 3000 miles across Mexico without food or support and show up at our border 100 pounds overweight and with a cellphone?

- Alexandria Ocasio Cortez wants to ban cars, ban planes, give out universal income and thinks socialism works. She calls Donald Trump crazy.

- Bill Clinton paid $850,000 to Paula Jones To get her to go away. I don’t remember the FBI raiding his lawyer’s office.

- I wake up every day and I am grateful that Hillary Clinton is not the president of the United States of America. The same media that told me Hillary Clinton had a 95% chance of winning, now tells me Trump’s approval ratings are low.

- “The problem with socialism is that sooner or later you run out of other people’s money.”— Margaret Thatcher

- Maxine Waters opposes voter ID laws; She thinks that they are racist. You need to have a photo ID to attend her town hall meetings.

- President Trump said — "They’re not after me. They’re after you. I’m just in their way."

Now, go Back & Read this Again like your Future Depends upon it, Because it Does!

[apersonnamedel]

Something I find really interesting about Stan’s character is how he believes fundamentally that he’s the stupid twin. When in reality he really isn’t and that makes for an interesting parallel between what we see and what he himself sees.

Stan has been conditioned from a young age that there’s only one of brilliance. And that’s in Stanford. The simple intelligence of picking up math and being extremely good with scientific research and knowledge. And because that’ll make money easier, their dad conditioned Stanford to be the ‘smart’ twin that was going places.

Stanley has been shown time and time again to be incredibly creative and socially intelligent (even book smarts too! He literally taught himself how to run a portal) but because that’ll wasn’t valued by his Pa it was shunned.

Stan absolutely could have been an author or comic writer but he thought that he couldn’t be. Stan had a future but it was conditioned out of him. He was told that he would only mean something if he was with Ford. He was told to not care about school work because he’s the ‘dumb one’. I firmly believe that Stan could have gotten wonderful grades or gone to college but because he wasn’t the favorite, that wasn’t an option. Stan is incredibly intelligent, he’s just intelligent in an unconventional way. And that unconventional way is kinda what ends up saving the world.

Filbrick pines they can never make me like you.

(Side Note: But there’s also kinda an interesting autism and adhd aspect related to them. Both the twins are heavily neurodivergent coded so I find it interesting that while Fords autism coded behavior and nerdiness because of that helped gain their Pa’s favor, while Stan’s ADHD behavior got him out of their Pa’s favor.)

[octuscle]

DeepTraining - Carson and Tyler

“Whoever you are, you're certainly not Scott McArthur”. Professor Bloom looked at the man with a mixture of fascination and disgust. The young man seemed like a foreign body here on campus among the time-honored buildings and all the brilliant people. This was where the country's elite was bred. And Scott MacArthur was one of the stars among the alumni. He had completed his doctorate in mathematics in record time, founded two or three incredibly successful start-ups and had become unimaginably rich. Just a month ago, he had donated 50 million US dollars to Bloom's chair. Bloom had been Scott's mentor and had contributed significantly to the business idea for Scott's first startup.

The young man standing in front of him did not belong here. This was a junior on a football scholarship at a third-tier college in the Midwest. He was brimming with self-confidence. Handsome. Not an introverted genius like Scott. “Professor, I assure you, it's me. No one can know this, but I went to some kind of beauty farm. The best there is in the world at the moment. Incredibly exclusive. But it gave me the chance of a new start. It has the power to change everything about you. Just not what's in your head. At least not immediately. You can believe me, a body like that…” The young man tensed his impressive biceps. “… changes a lot, even in a head as brilliant as mine. And I bet it would do the same for you.” Bloom was getting a little nervous. He asked the young man into his office. And Scott began to talk. How he had been approached at a party by an agent from DeepTraining. How he had prepared the transformation into a new life. How he had sold his empire and planned a carefree life under completely different circumstances and conditions. How he became Carson Brown. And that he wanted to offer Bloom something. A new life. A life as Tyler Klein, Carson's best friend. And together they could turn ideas into reality. But without coercion. With lots of fun. Just have the best time of their lives again. That would be his gift to the man to whom he owed everything.

“I know, Professor, this all sounds more than unbelievable. Believe me, it also costs an unimaginable amount of money. But just imagine if it worked. Imagine if I had been a workaholic addicted to junk food some time ago. And now I'm the type of man I've always envied. But I'm still me! And that could happen to you too. I have a brochure here. Please read it and then destroy it carefully. Think about it. I'll be in town for another week. Give me a call.”

Professor Bloom had read the brochure. He had thought about it. It sounded fantastic. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. He had found a little information on the Darknet. If the young man really was Scott, he was offering him a treatment that would normally cost well over 100 million US dollars. But it meant a leap into a new life. It meant a break with his career, his friends, his family. Friends? He hardly had any. A break with his family? That was more on the “pro” list. He called Scott. He would accept the generous offer. What would be the next step?

Apart from Carson, no one knew Professor Bloom was in the building. Carson also knew that Professor Bloom would not be leaving this building. Carson watched everyone who left the building carefully. He knew there might be similarities between Bloom and Tyler Klein. But that didn't have to be the case. There was a young guy approaching him. Straight ahead. With a still somewhat uncertain smile. Damn it, that wasn't possible! The guy was maybe 20, athletic. Baggy jeans, low-cut tank top, baseball cap on his blond hair. He took a deep breath and smiled a little pained. “So Carson, let me introduce myself: I'm Tyler. And as far as I know, I'm starting my football scholarship next semester at Concordia College in Moorhead, Minnesota.” Carson grinned. He remembered how difficult it had been to take his first steps in a new body. He would take care of his old mentor. They would have a great time.

“Bruh, me and my dude carson r vibing hard @ springbreak. But nxt wk, grind starts for real. Bye bye ft lauderdale, hey hey moorhead!” It was the first post on Tyler Klein's new Insta account. Brave to start directly with a nude picture. But Carson and he had no intention of doing things by halves. Studying was going to be the best time of their lives. And it would be!

Inspiration from @rowdy317. And yo, @alphafootballjock67 got a whole bunch of DeepTraining templates on deck!

[do-you-have-a-flag]

just read that article from new york magazine, "Everyone Is Cheating Their Way Through College - ChatGPT has unraveled the entire academic project."

didn't reveal anything new to me about the use and functioning of the plagiarism-grown, glorified auto-predict, language models that were rolled out so irresponsibly it means now anyone can waste water instead of their own time and effort. but was still fascinating to read, in a bleak way.

it's so interesting because cheating and corner cutting will always exist in education, whether out of desperation or laziness, it will always be there. but by university it truly is wild how many people are not actually there to learn, because at that point if you have a program do all your work for you you are fully not there to learn so why waste your time and money playing pretend at a degree. a degree you aren't qualified for because you did not do enough.

we aren't in a post-capitalist universal basic income world where the idea of a few individuals lightly supervising automation is feasible. the technology is not there and the culture and economic stability is not there. so when a professor in the article reasons to students “you’re not actually anything different than a human assistant to an artificial-intelligence engine, and that makes you very easily replaceable. Why would anyone keep you around?” that is not hypothetical. and in terms of the degrees just because the on paper grade says you passed doesn't mean you passed it means you curated automated responses that pass with no actual guarantee of comprehension or retention of information on your part.

and there are tools and templates and minor automations that can be used to supplement your own efforts! they take longer but not that significantly, and more importantly they are less likely to impede the actual practice of learning to implementation.

that's what a lot of people who cheat or use these tools in this way seem to miss.

let me pull out three paraphrased statements of possible justifications from this article:

The education system is flawed

These exercises are irrelevant

I'm bad at organisation

these are all experientially true to my experience of education at various points. and the first point exacerbates issues with 2 and 3 to where students can feel overwhelmed or underprepared or frustrated for various reasons. however where i differ personally from the choice making of these students, is that while i never had access to such a powerful tool i still never chose to cheat or cut corners with things like chapter summaries instead of reading a book, or getting someone else to write for me, or any other obvious forms of cheating/plagiarism.

and the reason for this is not lack of frustration or feelings of antagonism towards the system or confusion over content or lack of organisation skills (all issues i had). it's that throughout my education, i am talking back to primary school, i always tried to figure out WHY we were doing the work assigned to us. what in our studies is it trying to get us to engage with, what methods does it force us to put into use to communicate that knowledge, and how much of the information have we comprehended and retained. some assignments are bad at the execution of these goals but if you can see what the goals are you can still benefit from attempting to achieve them while meeting the requirements enough to pass. IMPORTANTLY the process of doing this frustrating and often inefficient process helps not just critical thinking skills but also is how you actually learn things.

no one else can know stuff for you. it makes sense to outsource a basic sum to a calculator app on your phone, but this means you are not a mathematician. if you use a chapter by chapter summary to write a book report you have not read that book. if you read the wikipedia article for a movie you have not watched that movie. all of these are more verifiable sources of information than language models.

if you get a transcript of a lecture you did not attend and use a chatbot to make notes for you then you did not attend that class- if you read the transcript and take notes and then use the chatbot and compare the difference at least then you used your capacity for thought to process the information and assess it through comparison.... but it would be better to find a classmate and compare notes with a peer so you both have the opportunity to not only check how well you understood the lecture/refresh the information covered, but also a much lower stakes chance to try out communication skills than the group assignments and oral presentations often assigned for this purpose. and on top of that you get to socialise and network with someone in your field of study in a way that benefits both of you.

i'm not even against the use of machine learning models generally, i think they are useful in a repetitive task automation and data scanning context. but why are we delegating things like Knowing Stuff and Human Connection to the 1 and 0 machine that might as easily sell our info as have it leaked to hackers. what kind of cyberpunk surveillance dystopia are we shrugging lazily into? you do not have to pay all that money to pretend to be a competent professional. and if that sounds harsh it's because it is. there are enough scammers and barely qualified people succeeding in this world.

you do not have to dedicate your life to labours that you are not capable of, at the very least be honest with yourself of your own capacity for thought and action. genuinely try to figure out if you are using this technology because of a 'can't' or a 'won't'

it's not a tool if it knows more than you- it's a tool if you could do the job without it.

[enflixx]

Off script - jake sim

summary: Burned out and buried in student debt, you’re ready to quit acting after years of side jobs and constant rejection. But just as you’re about to give up, your agent calls and turns out you’ve been considered for the lead in a new Netflix series, Dandelion Season, alongside rising star Jake Sim. As you read the script on your walk home, something you thought you’d lost flickers back to life: hope

genre: fluff

warning(s): none!

word count: 920

The low hum of a blender buzzes through the thin drywall before your alarm even goes off.

You groan into your pillow. Another morning, another reminder that your run down studio apartment is basically a glorified closet with a toilet. You blink up at the water stain on the ceiling, a spreading patch like a bruise you’ve learned to ignore.

The phone screen lights up.

7:12 a.m. No new casting calls. No callbacks. Just a fresh rejection email from that micro-budget student film. The one where you auditioned to play “College Girl Who Screams and Dies.”

You drag yourself out of bed, bones aching like you’re twice your age. The floor is cold under your feet. You flick the light on in the kitchen where one flickers and one’s been out for weeks. And of course there is no money to replace the bulb, especially when rent’s due and your last paycheck already vanished into your student loan payment.

You crack an egg into a pan and watch it sizzle off-center. Your reflection in the microwave door looks hollow. Your brain runs on a loop:

What the hell was I thinking?Why did I major in acting of all things?Why UCSD, of all places?

But you were proud back then. A part of their theatre program. Full of hope and ambition. The campus was filled with palm trees and promises. Where everyone said you were “the one who’d make it.”

You sip your instant coffee, bitter and clumpy, and mutter to yourself, “Guess everyone was wrong.”

Your inbox is full of unsubscribed newsletters and payment reminders. One from Earnest reads: New Statement Ready Balance: $82,397.

You shut your laptop before it can suck the air out of your lungs again.

By 8:15 a.m., you’re walking to the café. You pass a billboard for a new rom-com, the lead actress looks like someone who went to your program. Or maybe she just looks like someone who made it.

You don’t feel like someone who made it.

The café smells like desperation and burnt espresso. Your apron is stiff with old stains. You fake your smile for a line of people who’ll never learn your name. One customer points at you like you’re a kiosk.

“I said iced, not hot. Can you fix it?”

You fix it. And you apologize. Twice.

No one tips.

When a kid elbows the table and ketchup flies onto your apron, the mom gasps, horrified. You just smile, dead-eyed.

“It’s okay,” you say. “Really. Happens all the time.”

You think about how you once paid $17,000 in tuition for a class called "Advanced Shakespeare in Movement" where you had to pretend to be a willow tree for thirty minutes. Now you’re taking orders from teenagers named Brooke who order “matcha with almond but like, not too matcha.”

By the time your shift ends, your feet are numb, your hands are dry from soap, and your will to live is somewhere in the floor drain beneath the espresso machine.

You walk home past an alley that smells like piss and old flowers. Your back aches. Your tote bag feels heavier with every step.

Your phone buzzes. Call from: Amanda (Agent).

You almost don’t answer. She’s probably going to offer you another non-union gig for “exposure.” Or a role as “Young Mom Who Cries in Bathroom” in some grimy short film.

But you pick up anyway.

“Hey,” you say, flat.

Amanda sounds like she just sprinted across town. “You’re not gonna believe this.”

You don’t respond. You’re too tired to play games.

“It’s a lead. I’m serious. Netflix. A YA romance series. Think The Summer I Turned Pretty but more grounded. Grittier. Twelve episodes. Working title: Dandelion Season.”

Your feet stop moving.

“What?”

“They want someone fresh. Someone who feels real. I sent them your Hulu self-tape, remember the one where you broke down in the last thirty seconds? They loved it. You’re on a shortlist for the lead. Bella.”

“Me?” you croak.

Amanda’s typing furiously in the background. “Script’s in your inbox. Read it tonight. Like tonight tonight.”

You pull out your phone, still standing on the sidewalk, under a flickering streetlight. Gmail. Subject: Dandelion Season Script: CONFIDENTIAL.

You tap it open, hands trembling.

“Oh,” Amanda adds, almost too casually. “And the male lead’s already cast.”

You brace yourself.

“Guess who.”

“Just tell me.”

“Jake Sim.”

You nearly laugh out loud. “Jake Sim Jake Sim?”

“Yup. Mr. Film Festival himself. They locked him. Word is, he asked for a co-star who could actually act.”

You sink onto a bench, heartbeat thudding. “I’m not… I mean, I’m not like him.”

“You don’t have to be. You just have to be you. Read the damn script.”

You hang up, stunned.

You Google him. Of course.

First image: him in a velvet suit, jaw sharp enough to slice through glass. He’s the kind of handsome that makes people click. The kind of person you thought you’d be standing next to in your twenties, not drooling over while wearing a sour milk-scented apron.

You scroll. Photos of him reading in a bookstore. Walking his dog. He’s beautiful. Effortless. Famous.

You’re... still trying.

You open the script.

The first line:

BELLA (V.O.): I think some people are meant to feel like they’re running late to their own life.

You sit with it.

And for the first time in months you don’t feel like you’re drowning.You feel like maybe, maybe, you still have a shot.

[conindiundrum]

Even MORE baby Winchester headcanons because joy is fleeting.

Sam stole a game boy from a classmate for Deans birthday. He did not understand the difference between stealing food you need and just random stuff. Prompting Dean to lecture him for about two hours. Sam still doesn’t get it but anything to make Dean shut up. (They kept the game boy and hid it from John until it broke.)

Dean knew Sam was looking into colleges but he was convinced it was a phase. Just like his wanting the apple pie life was definitely a phase. (Oh definitely.)

Sam has always been an evil genius even if he tried to hide it at college. This is one of the many reasons Dean just couldn’t understand his brother’s desire to leave. When Sam was 10, Dean picked him up with bruises and other maladies. It was bad. His stupid brother was flirting with some football player’s girlfriend and got cornered by the whole team. Sam squawked about how they had to do something about it and Dean shut him down immediately. Yeah maybe they couldn’t beat up a whole football team, but could still get reparations. Sam took matters into his own hands. The guy's family owned a pretty beloved diner, (small town) and the team celebrated victories there. Being the 90s and this family having very little regard for children, they let Sam work there. Two dollars an hour. He went by 'Keith' did his hair different, even cut the sleeves off some his shirts to appear dissimilar. After a few weeks, his time had come, he used the money earned to buy fast acting laxatives. It was chaos, food and safety inspections were conducted, families sued, the guy's girlfriend even broke up with him. The real kicker was the food critic Sam had called and raved about the diner to. He traveled several states over thanks to Sam's convincing words. Dean was angry at first, what if they found out and came after Sam? After a couple days he found it funny. Especially when the diner shut down for severe health code violations. Although he'll never know if Sam had part in that too.

Dean asked Bobby to teach about cars when he was eleven. He didn't tell Bobby John had snapped at him (after lotssss of nagging) and told him "you can drive it when you can fix it". Bobby got a call the night the boys were picked up from a very angry John about not teaching his kids stuff without asking. He hung up and laughed until his sides hurt too much for his usual night routine of alcohol and research.

Dean definitely did NOT hover around California as much as possible while Sam was at Stanford. No way. He DIDN’T take any and every hunt in the area on the off chance that Sam would feel pressure to do them. Nuh uh. Bobby totally didn’t forward Dean those hunts in the hopes that he’d be tempted to fix things with his brother. Not a chance.

Dean getting upset when Sam starts swearing. Thats it that the headcanon.

[withluvvenus]

𝟬𝟯 . 𝗠𝗘𝗘𝗧 𝗖𝗨𝗧𝗘𝗦　◞　how we met in every reality　part two ୧

baker dr　ʚ ɞ　so basically i'm his next door neighbor ( very girl next door vibes ), but he's hardly at home. like ever, because he's always at some cooking event or at his own restaurant, working late hours to perfect recipes or conjure new ones out of the blue. the one night he is trying to get sleep though, i'm playing my glitter pen pop princess music on the speakers while i midnight bake, and he comes over to ask me to stop, thinking i'm some random annoying girl. who he does see instead is a girl in her sleep shirt wearing a red apron with polka dots and frosting all over, holding a whisk in one hand and licking off batter from the other. he goes home with an apology cupcake that night.

author dr　ʚ ɞ　this is SOOO beach read inspired btw!! basically i'm a small time romcom author and he's a well known literary fiction author! how we meet is when i'm at my local bookstore looking for a book outside my comfort zone, my best friend told me to reach out for the first time ever, and he's standing there looking down at his books. i don't realize he's him, also don't know who he is either, so i'm standing next to him in the quiet side of the library, holding one of his books and skimming through it. and then i pop a question because it's getting awkward and i HATE silence: "who would read this kind of books? i mean no offense, if you do, but this book literally has no.. i dunno.. pizzazz?" obviously, he's taken back. and he says simple: "i do, and i also wrote them." SILENCE.

romcom dr　ʚ ɞ　not enough money for a big city like new york & a photo place leads me to his label's doorstep. they've been looking for a new manager and i'm not the perfect fit but i'll do. i took the right classes in college but didn't finish them, but that's alright. first day on the job, i'm at his studio and he's just sitting there in his perfect beanie and phone in his hands, expecting an iced coffee from his assistant not a personal manager. but we're both not expecting something then, i'm not expecting the boy who used to throw rocks at my window and he's not expecting the girl he used to braid the hair of because she didn't know how to. i don't expect the boy who stopped writing to me after he moved away and he's not expecting the girl who his debut song was about.

　　　　　　　　　　　　　 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗹𝘂𝘃 ✶ 𝘃𝗲𝗻𝘂𝘀

[artielu]

Ok but if you look at the study, it's not as valid.

85 students at two universities in Kansas.

Deeply mediocre ACT scores when they applied to college their junior year of high school. Basically average.

"Of the 85 undergraduate English majors in our study, 58 came from one Kansas regional university (KRU1) and 27 from another (and neighboring) one (KRU2). Both universities are similar in size and student population, and in 2015, incoming freshmen from both universities had an average ACT Reading score of 22.4 out of a possible 36 points, above the national ACT Reading score of 21.4 for that same year (ACT Profile 2015 9)."

White kids from public high schools.

"Almost all the student participants were Caucasian, two-thirds were female, and almost all had graduated from Kansas public high schools. All except three self-reported “A’s” and “B’s” in their English courses. "

Kids going to regional universities in Kansas from public high schools in Kansas probably came from small towns. Cuz **regional** - no one from outside the Midwest are going to these regional universities and the brightest students and/or those with money went to state universities or out of state universities. These are rural small town kids.

And their teachers, who maybe are from that area because who's moving to small town Kansas to teach English but local folk and/or other Midwest small town folk??, probably did not focus on dead white men from Europe. They probably read some great American works like grapes of wrath and of mice and men and waiting for godot and catcher in the rye and white fang and Gatsby and maybe animal farm. And Shakespeare of course. Maybe some books that had African American or Latinx or indigenous characters in reflection of their community, one hopes. They probably didn't read Dickens. I did not read Dickens in my urban public high school. Why would rural small town teenagers in America be remotely interested in Dickens?! I was exposed to way more culturally and I sure wasn't.

Ok so, those are our test subjects. Small Town kids with mediocre English scores who went to regional Kansas universities who likely had no exposure to Dickens.

The kids that could read on a tenth grade level couldn't understand Dickens.

"We then compared the 10th-grade reading scores against the reading test results. All our subjects who scored 79 percent or less on the 10th-grade literacy test were also evaluated as problematic readers of Bleak House. However, 59 percent of the problematic readers scored a 90 or above on the literacy test, suggesting that the ability to read on a 10th-grade level does not ensure that students have the proficient-prose literacy skills to read complex texts."

And I'm not an English major and I've been zero percent interested in dead white writers for my entire life. I have an enormous vocabulary. I have two undergrad degrees and a law degree and have been a lawyer for pushing twenty years but I'm frankly not sure I could answer this intuitively. I've had enough education to know that the fog is probably a symbol because he talks about it so damn much and I can make up a paper about that idea but I don't necessarily believe it. The fog was a symbolism for mental fog and obfuscation??? God I hate symbolism.

"Original Text:

Fog creeping into the cabooses of collier brigs; fog lying out on the yards, and hovering in the rigging of great ships; fog drooping on the gunwales of barges and small boats.

Facilitator:

O.K. So, what do you see in this sentence besides fog?

Subject:

I know there’s train, and there’s like, like the industrial part of the city?

Facilitator:

O.K. [End Page 8]

By reducing all these details in the passage to vague, generic language, the subject does not read closely enough to follow the fog as it moves throughout the shipyards. And, as she continues to skip over almost all the concrete details in the following sentences, she never recognizes that this literal fog, as it expands throughout London, becomes a symbol for the confusion, disarray, and blindness of the Court of Chancery."

So this study used 85 mediocre high school students who went to college and tested them after 2-3 years of college in dead white man literature. And the dead white man writer was paid by the installment so he could fill space with extra words to create a hooked audience, like old school network series television.

Is this country failing to teach literature? YES. Did their high schools fail them? YES. Does reading literature, including dead white man literature, have value? YES. Is decoding complex texts an important skill? YES.

Is THIS the study to hang those hypotheses on? NO.

Why did they choose to be English majors? Did they actually want to study English lit? I also wonder what careers they went on to have.

I also wonder what the school funding was in Kansas in the early 2010s versus other states, and what the educational degrees were of their teachers. Kansas ranked 28th in the US in that time period. I wonder if another state has different results.

Also, please run this on students at a big public university like Michigan and an elite school like Yale and a liberal arts like Reed.

Maybe the conclusion is PAY AMERICAN TEACHERS WAY MORE MONEY AND THEN YOU'LL HAVE BETTER EDUCATIONAL OUTCOMES FOR STUDENTS duhhhhh.

I read the first few pages of Bleak House and now I'm extra upset about the post on college-level literacy because what do you mean they couldn't parse meaning from that. WHAT DO YOU MEAN they couldn't figure out he was setting a specific sort of mood for the opening of the story. WHAT DO YOU MEAN the words they didn't understand and looked up made the entire sentence structure virtually meaningless to them?

[silasthecreature]

One day I'll crawl out

From the system that I was planted into the very day I was born

Made to grow into, roots digging deeper

Until I pull out every fiber of my being

One day I'll move far away from there

From everything I've ever known

I'll settle down in the woods in an old house

With herding dogs and houseplants

Drinking tea on my porch in the morning

One day I'll let myself be exhausted

From the mud i trudge through every day

I'll curl up on the floor like an old dog

Rest my head on my paws

And let sleep consume me like a black hole

[maddie-grove]

The way a lot of people talk about the "male loneliness epidemic" and its effect on politics is so bizarre to me. I have not noticed that being conventionally successful (rich, well-liked, attractive, happy with their situation in life, etc.) consistently makes men less shitty about women. A man just does not need to have a lot of problems to blame them all on women. The problem can literally be "I sense that one woman at this social gathering doesn't like me all that much." The problem can be "I think that this woman, whom I don't want to date, has overly high standards for dating that I personally meet." The problem can be "women don't laugh when I make super-mean personal jokes about them." I'm sure sometimes it's easier for men to be nice when things are going well for them, but it's far from a guarantee.

[angelpuns]

Filled with the excruciating need to quit my job how bout y'all

[clochanam]

HIATUS NOTICE! i'll be on hiatus for a while now! if i'm here, it'll be a miracle caused by either illness or purely frightening quantities of coffee! i don't know when i'll be back properly, but i do promise that i will be back as soon as i can, and i strongly encourage everyone to hmu on disco for 1x1 servers until i'm able to come back properly!