#how to calculate GPA | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sunlxst · 1 month ago

Text

don’t save him he don’t wanna be saved

college simp caleb x college slut reader

smut-slight angst?

We’ve all heard the old saying: men love hoes. And Caleb is no exception.

Everyone thinks he’s a sweet boy. He’s super friendly, so thoughtful and generous. He’s the kind of guy parents want their kids to be friends with, such a well-mannered young man with a spotless GPA. He gets along with practically everyone-he’s the best guy to go party with, never got too drunk to be useless and never too sober to be a buzzkill. Girls always gravitate towards him and if they weren’t drunk caleb would spend the night playing wingman.

Thus to everyone, sweet and kind boys like Caleb deserved a good girl, a kind of girl he could take back home to his granny. The kind of girl a guy like caleb could marry. And to everyone, you’re definitely not that girl.

You were a different kind of trouble. Unbelievably attractive, and so incredibly easy.

The guys he hangs out with occasionally are so quick to pull up your track history as if Caleb wasn’t already ignoring the group chat they put him in.

-yk the basketball team ran a train on her in their hotel room right after nationals?

-I think my plug is smashing her too dude i see them riding around and shit

-weed been extra good tho i won’t lie

-lmaoo cal bro u kiss her ur kissing a 1000 dicks

-ong dude hit and quit that immediately

-frr get your piece and let her goooo she’s not the one for u trust me

But caleb doesn’t want to let you go :(

Much to the disappointment of everyone around him, he likes you..a lot, and he feels almost too old to be having a crush, but it sums up what he’s been feeling. He couldn’t pass up the opportunity to get close to you when he sees you're in the same physics lab. Every Thursday from 5-8pm, he's pushing his chair closer to yours, enough to drown in the sweetness of your perfume. Burning up from your smile when you laugh at his dumb jokes. Trying not to stare too long at your ass when go up and ask the TA a question. Finally locking in and getting the work done when he starts bricking up in his sweats imagining what the lip you bite on tastes like as you crunch numbers on his calculator.

Truth is, he quite enjoys the fact that you're highly experienced. Virgins just don’t do it for him, a self realization he comes to learn when he finally does get a taste of you. Why find somebody so amateur when he has you? A pretty girl with a cute smile that knows exactly what to do with his dick.

How could he let you go when you suck his cock sooo good? You love that it’s fat, love the struggle of getting it down your throat, immediately choking, eyes getting glossy with tears. It really inflates his ego when your throat lets out violent gurgles, filling up his room. "a-ah-damn baby keep goin'” You’re slurping up your drool oozing down his cock all over the short hairs at the base, and caleb loves the sound of it, sopping with your spit and his pre decorating your tongue. Slick pink muscle lapping at his cockhead as you look at him all cute, teasing the blunt end, coaxing for his nut that’s he’s shaking on his elbows. Right when he’s close, you suck his balls fisting him quickly, suckling on them as they tighten up against your lips and ducking your tongue down on the little patch of skin above his ass. “yeahyeah-get me there gorgeous o-oh-fuckk babe ‘m cummin’ -” You’re quick to envelop your mouth around him and he sees white, shooting quick and thick ropes, twitching on your tongue sending load after load and he watches your throat bob, swallowing him. Caleb shamelessly kissing you hard after, nice and sloppy with his tongue tasting the semibitterness of his seed on your lips. Who cares? it’s his dick in your mouth now.

So what if others got a taste before he did? It’s not like your body remembers them anyway. Pretty pussy all warm and tight. Struggling to take him as if you’ve never been fucked before. “fuuckk caleb-‘s too much” you whine on his dick as you bounce on it, the fat ass plastered all over your instagram jiggling on his lap as you come down. He can’t get enough of it, his large hands meeting your skin in slow and loud smacks. So damn soft and supple, he’s grabbing handfuls to spread and watch your stretched out hole devour him. “alll for you baby-‘n you’re takin’ it -nice and-ngh deep h-ah you like that?” Pussy fluttering each time you sink down, gushing cream that forms a wet ring at the base of his cock. You begged to take him raw and that’s why you're the best, so eager to feel him. Letting his bare tip rub the gooey spot deep in your guts. Letting him kiss your cervix and feel your sticky walls spasm. You’re so fucking wet-wetter than your throat and he feels like he’s drowning, losing his cock in your little water park that can’t help the noise.

His name drags out of your mouth like a wail and it only makes him raise his hips up to meet you, “o-oh-fuck me caleb-harder- yesss ‘s so deep-” He gets you louder, let his stupid friends hear that he’s got you now and you're not going anywhere. Those guys were never his friends though, that much is clear.

Whatever. Caleb reckons your previous hook-ups never made you finish. Decides to take you in missionary just so he can see what they haven’t, toying with your clit under his fingers and watching you play with your tits as he drills your hole, “wanna feel you cum beautiful-fuckk yeah baby- cum on your dick- mhmm-‘s yours” It takes everything in him not to bust first, the way you writhe under him , spreading your legs wider to take more drives him crazy. You sound so fucking sexy when your build up peaks that it’ll play in his head for weeks. God your greedy little pussy latches onto him like a vice, like it’s desperate for his load. Your pretty mouth gets to begging for it too, begging for him to make this pussy his. Fuck he wants to-so so bad. He has no choice but to cum deep inside you, letting you feel his cock twitch, his heartbeat rubbing up on your walls as he empties into you. Yeah he’ll gladly make this pussy his, for life, and nobody can change his mind.

The only thing he wish he could change was what happens after you fuck. You let him wipe you down and get you water. You let him spoon you in bed and watch Tiktoks on your phone. But everytime caleb wants to make plans for a date- to take a step towards something permanent with you, you're sliding out of bed putting your clothes on, telling him you have plans with friends or you're going home for the weekend. It’s like you're here with him, but just a touch away and he can’t get close.

It keeps him up late sometimes, staring absentmindedly through his window lost in his thoughts about you and him. But then it clicks one night when he realizes he’s watching you in a tiny jean skirt hop on the back of some guy’s obnoxiously loud motorcycle, zooming out of the parking lot. It makes him blink several times just to make sure he’s not imagining it. Huh? There’s someone else..?

But who?

#love and deepspace #lads caleb #caleb x reader #caleb smut #lads smut #my fics #first day in caleb country don’t jump me :p

326 notes · View notes

milkoomi · 2 months ago

Text

overcoming the spring semester slump. ᥫ᭡

i’m sure a lot of us students are at that point in the spring semester where the level of our motivation is going down, our minds are quick to think “if i skip this assignment, i’ll still have a passing grade”, and our anxiety over final assessments/exams/projects/grades is increasing as each day passes. so let’s take a moment to pause, take a breather, and remind & reassure ourselves that everything is going to be okay. the spring semester slump is very real, but it’s something that you can overcome! so grab my hand because i’m going to guide you through this!

let’s begin …

୨ৎ — loss of motivation

losing that spark you had at the start of the semester/school year can feel so devastating. it’s frustrating to see the changes in your level of energy and it creates this sense of disappointment. but you have to remember: this is completely normal.

there’s so many other students out there who are experiencing the same drop in motivation and energy, so step one is reminding yourself that you aren’t alone in this feeling! yes, it’s extremely disheartening to see yourself slip away from that academic weapon status, but you aren’t the only one going through something like this!

“how do i get my motivation back?”

ask yourself this: if you’ve already gotten this far into the school year, why would you want yourself to let go of all your hard work?

you’ve come so far! and, up until this point, you have been exceeding your own expectations! up until this point, you’ve put in so many hours into your school work and studies! why let all that time and effort go to waste?

here are some things that keep me motivated:

proving to everyone who doubted me that they were all wrong

making my loved ones and myself proud

knowing that i’m another step closer to working in my dream career field

maintaining my 4.0 gpa

make a list of your goals! this will help you visualize and give you a reminder of what all your work is going towards. i know you want to achieve your goals, i know you want to be a better version of yourself, i know you want to climb up to the top when it comes to your academics— let your goals be your fuel.

sometimes, all we need is a reminder of why were doing all this. we need to see or hear what the ultimate end goal is, so be that person to do that for yourself! tell yourself that all this hard work is going towards your bigger picture!

୨ৎ — negative mindset changes

you and i both know you’ve stared at an assignment and spent a good chunk of time debating on actually doing it because “you’ll still have a passing grade if you don’t”. trust me, i’ve done it. again, you aren’t alone in having those kinds of thoughts! i get it, we all have calculated the lowest score we could possibly get to still have a passing grade in a class. i actually did that on a recent exam i took that i also procrastinated til the day of to study for.

it’s okay to have these thoughts pass through in your mind, but what isn’t okay is actually putting those thoughts into action. don’t let that unmotivated voice in your head take control of your academics!

“but how do i stop myself from thinking this way?”

i want you to take a look at all the past assignments you’ve completed and all the quiz/exam grades you’ve received throughout the school year and/or semester. notice how you submitted every single assignment? notice how all your studying got you the grades you wanted? you managed to do all of that, so why let those passing thoughts take over? you have shown yourself, and even your teachers/professors/instructors, that you are more than capable of getting things done. why let yourself slip?

if you’ve spent the entire semester turning in assignments on time and getting above average grades on all the exams, are you really going to show your professors— the people who have been watching you excel all semester— that you’re letting your academics go?

and you’ll never know, but skipping that one assignment could potentially break your grade. complete it. do it. turn it in. it could help cushion your grade or even bring it back up!

୨ৎ — finals anxiety

finals week is slowly, but surely, making it’s way back into our lives once again. that week and the weeks following up to it are the perfect breeding grounds for anxiety to fully settle in. and i get it! it’s not a fun feeling. you’re overwhelmed, you’re feeling overworked, you’re feeling burnt out, and your anxiety is just seeming to take over the more and more you think about it.

gonna say it one more time: it’s 100% okay to feel this way! finals week anxiety and stress is normal. it’s an important week to focus on seeing as final exams make up such a big portion of your grade. your anxiety and stress about it is completely valid!

“how can i overcome this anxiety?”

i created this post on preparing for finals week, so i highly recommend taking a look at that since i go into greater detail on how to prepare as well as offer some helpful tips!

ways i manage my academic anxiety & stress:

creating to-do lists & planning out my week

pomodoro & eat-the-frog method for time management

journaling — emotion/thought dumping

setting aside time to do something that makes me happy and/or is relaxing

reaching out to my support system

getting 8 hours of sleep every night

forming study groups with my classmates

it’s important that you’re giving yourself breaks. i always say this, but i really am a huge advocate for making sure you still have time to do something for yourself that isn’t related to school.

allow yourself to breathe; give yourself time to relax your mind. if there’s anything to take away from this section, it’s always making sure you set aside personal time for yourself. whether it’s going for a walk, playing with your pets, chatting with a friend, playing a video game, doing your makeup just for fun, or even taking a nap, just make sure you always make time to do something for yourself!

a lot of the academic anxiety and stress can stem from not making enough time for yourself to relax. i’m sure you were locked in all semester and i’m sure you put in hours upon hours into your studies, but give yourself a break! go do something fun! don’t let your entire life be consumed by your academics!

i know i said in the previous section to get your shit done, and while i still stand by that, i will always climb to the mountain tops and scream that you need to make time for breaks, self care, and yourself. don’t overwork yourself! you might feel the need to just keep going and going, but you’re allowed to slow down; you need to slow down. putting majority, or even all of your time into your studies can only make your anxiety and stress worse.

final notes —

the biggest take away from this post should be this: you’re not alone in this feeling, and getting yourself back up now will have your future self thanking you forever! this slump is something so many students go through, but you have to remind yourself that all your hard work now will truly reward you later down the road.

you’ve gotten yourself this far! keep going! your future self is going to be so grateful that you kept moving forward!

with lots of love, faustina 🌷

302 notes · View notes

makeyuomine · 1 month ago

Text

studio styles // part 1

Summary: (Y/N), a newly hired Architectural Assistant at the renowned architecture firm Studio Styles, grapples with imposter syndrome as she navigates the pressures of her first major role in the field. Balancing ambition with uncertainty, she finds herself drawn to her supervisor—Harry, the firm's brilliant yet enigmatic Principal Architect. As professional boundaries blur under late-night deadlines and quiet moments, (Y/N) must confront the question of what she's really building: a career, a future… or something much more complicated.

architect!harry.

Author’s Note: Thank you all for taking the time to read my work! Pleaseeeee let me know your thoughts! Ideas for more are encouraged :)

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

The office smelled faintly of concrete dust and expensive coffee—an oddly comforting blend for (Y/N), who still couldn't believe she worked here.

Only one month in, and the sensation of imposter syndrome clung to her like glue. But each time she caught her reflection in the sleek glass doors of the downtown firm, dressed in black slacks and a structured blazer, she reminded herself: You earned this.

Freshly 25, (Y/N) was the firm’s newest Architectural Assistant, freshly graduated with a Master's and still blinking in the unfamiliar rhythm of a life no longer defined by GPA calculators or studio reviews. Her mind often wandered to one question: Who am I now that I’m not a student?

Work, it seemed, was determined to fill that identity vacuum. She welcomed it. Chased it. Whether it was a zoning analysis for a low-rise mixed-use project or drafting elevation concepts for a civic plaza in the City, she raised her hand for everything. Her ambition didn’t just burn—it blazed.

But no amount of ambition had prepared her for Harry Styles.

The moment she had stepped into the interview room a month ago, she had felt it. The unmistakable shift in the air. The strong current between them.

Harry—Principal Architect, her direct supervisor, and the owner of the very firm she now worked at, Studio Styles—was, in a word, unfair. Thirty-seven, tall, and effortlessly magnetic, he carried the kind of refined charisma that seemed to say: Yes, I know I look good in this tailored navy suit, but I promise I won’t make it your problem.

The man who interviewed her, hired her, and now walked past her desk with rolled-up sleeves and the kind of quiet intensity that made architectural specs seem like poetry. Honestly, how was anyone supposed to stay focused?

Everyone in the office respected him, admired him—even joked about him being the "greenest of flags." But (Y/N) saw something else too: a softness in his voice when he explained design theory, the weight he carried in his brow when he thought no one was looking, the restraint in his gaze when their eyes met.

She wondered if he felt it too. That pull.

Harry had kept things strictly professional, of course. She could tell he worked hard to focus only on the technical, the mentorship. But sometimes—when they hovered side by side over CAD drawings or walked together during site visits—she could swear his fingers brushed hers just a moment too long.

Still, she had goals. Real ones. The promotion to Architect I was not guaranteed. It was the next step, the first real test in proving she could belong in this rarefied world. It would be a long year of learning, proving, and adapting.

Romance? That was the plot of her old daydreams, back in undergrad when her biggest worry was a group project going sideways.

Now? Now she had deadlines. Career reviews. A whole identity to build from scratch.

And yet, as she watched Harry gesture thoughtfully at a floorplan from across the room, smiling that small, half-lidded smile that always made her stomach twist—(Y/N) couldn’t help but think:

If I’m building a life from the ground up… is it so wrong that he might be a part of it? Or is this what happens when you spend years chasing degrees and suddenly find yourself in the real world—down bad for your boss like some HR training video gone rogue?

♡ ♡

The hum of the office had quieted, reduced to the occasional tap of a keyboard and the distant whirl of the plotter spitting out floorplans. Most of the team had already cleared out for the evening, but (Y/N) was still at her desk, editing renderings with the intensity of someone who feared the smallest oversight could unravel everything.

She didn’t hear him approach—just the soft sound of leather soles stopping beside her.

"Got a minute?" Harry asked gently, holding a thick project folder in one hand.

She glanced up, blinking. "Yeah, of course."

He gestured toward the small glass-walled conference room at the corner of the floor. Her heart gave the faintest stutter.

What did he want to discuss? Had someone filed a complaint? Was she being fired?

Inside the conference room, he set the folder on the table between them. His sleeves were rolled to the elbows, forearms flexing as he opened the file.

She did her best to hide the nerves tightening her chest, but it was written all over her face.

"Well, don't look so worried," Harry smiled at her reassuringly.

She let out a soft laugh. "I'm sorry, I tend to overthink."

"Don't worry. I actually wanted to discuss a new project with you," he looked at her.

(Y/N)'s brows lifted, curiosity sparking in her expression. A new project? That hadn’t come up in the staff meeting earlier.

"This is the new Rivera Cultural Center downtown," he said, eyes scanning the drawings. "It’s a multi-phase project, community-driven, green-certified. City's backing it heavily, and it's going to be high-profile."

She nodded slowly, her eyes following the path of his finger as it traced the plans. She couldn’t help but notice his hands—steady, capable, and undeniably masculine.

"I want you to take the lead on schematic design," Harry said, looking up at her. "Concept, massing, program alignment, early elevations. You’ll collaborate with me directly."

The words snapped her out of every lingering daydream. (Y/N)'s heart thudded loudly enough; she was sure he could hear it. "Wait—me?"

He smiled faintly. "Yes. You."

She opened her mouth. Closed it again. She wanted to say yes. God, she always wanted to take on a big project. But this one felt… massive.

"I’ve never led something like this before," she said quietly, brows furrowing. "I—I don’t want to mess it up. Or let you down."

"You won’t," he said. "Because I’ll be there. Every step of the way. And I wouldn’t hand you this unless I was sure you were ready for it."

There it was. No patronizing. No sugarcoating. Just belief. Pure and steady.

She lifted her eyes to meet his. And something passed between them then—something unspoken, heavy with possibility. Like the silence before the first line is drawn.

She wondered if he felt it too, that current, that magnetic shift. From the way his gaze held hers, unwavering and sincere, she knew the answer.

But neither of them said it. Not yet.

Instead, she nodded once.

"Okay," she whispered. "I'll do it."

He smiled. And this time, it reached all the way to his eyes.

♡ ♡

The office was quieter than usual this evening, the glow of the city skyline filtering in through the windows as the last of the staff trickled out. (Y/N) had stayed behind, focused on the schematics for the Rivera Cultural Center. She'd already gone over the designs three times, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing.

She was staring at the plans when Harry approached her desk, a soft thud of his shoes on the polished wood floor. She glanced up, startled but grateful for the distraction.

"Everything going okay?" Harry asked, his voice warm but low.

She smiled, pushing the frustration aside. "Yeah. Just trying to figure out the massing for the main lobby. I feel like I’m overthinking it."

"You are," he teased lightly, sitting down in the chair across from her. But his eyes softened as he continued, "But that’s good. Means you're invested."

She shifted in her seat, pulling up a few of the elevation designs. "I just don’t want to miss anything. I want it to be perfect."

"You’re on the right track," Harry said, leaning forward slightly, his gaze locked on the plans. He was close enough now that she could see the faint creases in his shirt, the way the lines of his suit jacket stretched over his shoulders. His presence was comforting, grounding her. "We’re getting there. I can help you with this—walk you through the next step."

She hesitated, glancing up at him, meeting his eyes. He seemed genuinely invested in her progress. There was no condescension, no rush. Just the quiet assurance that she was more than capable.

"You’ve been really supportive," she admitted, almost shyly. "I didn’t expect it to be like this. I thought you'd… I don’t know, be more hands-off."

"Do you want me to be hands-off?" he quickly asked.

She looked up, their eyes immediately connecting.

There was a slight pause. "N-No," she stuttered.

A faint smile tugged at his lips as his gaze lingered on her face. They both turned their attention back to the plans, but there was something different in the air now, something thicker between them that made the space feel smaller, more intimate.

Harry stood, moving to the whiteboard beside her desk to sketch a few notes. She could feel the subtle shift in energy as he reached over her, their shoulders brushing for just a second. It wasn't intentional, but the warmth of his body, the nearness, sent a jolt through her.

When he stepped back, their eyes met again. She was sure he felt it too—the quiet tension hanging in the air, the pull that neither of them acknowledged aloud.

"It's getting late… you should probably head out," (Y/N) said, glancing toward the window where the sky had already begun to fade into evening hues.

"Yeah, I'll get going soon. Just want to make sure you're alright," he said.

The sincerity in his voice truly touched (Y/N).

"I don't know what I'd do without you on this," she admitted.

He stepped closer, gaze on her.

Harry’s expression darkened. His hand came up, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered.

"You won't ever have to find out," he murmured.

That did it.

Her breath hitched just before he leaned in, and then his mouth was on hers—firm, searching, not hesitant at all. She responded instantly, her hand sliding into his shirt collar, pulling him closer. The kiss deepened, the weight of everything they hadn't said crashing into that one desperate moment.

His hand found her waist, and with a quiet groan he walked her back until she bumped into the edge of the desk. The plans crinkled beneath her as he lifted her—strong hands guiding her to lie back over the very designs they’d been pouring over just minutes earlier.

The moment was charged, a collision of ambition, desire, and months of restraint finally breaking loose.

He hovered over her, breathing hard. "Tell me to stop."

She didn't.

Instead, she reached up and kissed him again.

The kiss was breathless and all-consuming. Harry's hands framed her hips, her fingers curled into his shirt. Every thought, every rule, every hesitation had vanished the second their lips met. The sound of paper rustling beneath them—plans and sketches now forgotten—only fueled the urgency.

And then—ding!

The elevator doors slid open with a mechanical chime, slicing through the moment like a blade.

They froze.

A beat later, the telltale squeak of rubber wheels echoed down the hall, followed by the soft clatter of cleaning supplies and the faint shuffle of footsteps. The janitor had arrived for the night shift.

Harry pulled back, breathing heavily. (Y/N) sat up fast, heart hammering, cheeks flushed as she frantically smoothed down her blouse and skirt. He ran a hand through his hair, adjusting the collar of his shirt, then leaned casually against the edge of the desk like they'd been talking about floor plans—not making out on top of them.

A faint tune drifted into the studio—some upbeat song the janitor was whistling along to, completely oblivious, earbuds tucked firmly into his ears. He didn't even glance their way as he pushed the trash bin through the hallway, humming to himself and wheeling toward the break room.

(Y/N) let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

"That was close," she whispered, glancing sideways at Harry.

He looked at her, and despite the attempt at nonchalance, there was a spark in his eyes—mischief, disbelief, desire. His lips curved into a crooked smile, a silent what just happened? passing between them.

She couldn't help the grin that tugged at her own mouth, biting the inside of her cheek to suppress it. Their gazes lingered, playful and loaded.

Neither of them said a word, but the silence said everything.

This wasn’t over.

Not by a long shot.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Author's Note: Thank you all for taking the time to read my work! How are we liking architect!harry?

#harry edward styles #harry x y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles au #harry styles slow burn #slow burn

163 notes · View notes

waitingandwishing · 2 months ago

Note

*runs up to u extremely out of breath and lowk dying* SBG X READER WHOS RLLY GOOD ACADEMICALLY? LIKE BRO CAN SPEAK MULTIPLE LANGUAGES, TOP OF EVERY CLASS AND OVERWORKS HERSELF TO THE EXTREME THAT PEOPLE GET WORRIED?? MAYBE SHE JUST CRASHES TF OUT WHEN HER GRADE DROPS?? IDK HAVE FUN BE CREATIVE *runs away but trips over air*

— 🍋‍🟩

UM ARE YOU OKAY??? *helps you up*

-> context: if you fail, you'll crash tf out

-> fandom: school bus graveyard

-> warnings/tags: female reader, reader can speak french, spanish, and english

Imagine Ashlynn's surprise when you just whipped out another language in your french class. And her surprise when you two had gone out to a restaurant and you ordered in spanish. How did she never know this about you?

She studied with you, helped you keep an open mind and take breaks, she shared her lunch with you in the library when you were too busy. She remembered the date of your exams/tests and leaves you some snacks on your desk the morning of.

It’s just one grade. That’s what they’ll say. Just a stupid number on a paper... But that number could decide your future! 89... That number made your vision goes blurry. Not from tears. From everything. From the weight in your chest and the nausea twisting in your gut and the way your hands go numb around the paper.

Now you can’t breathe. The hallway is too loud. Too bright. People are walking around you like the world isn’t ending. So you run. You don’t even know where. Just away.

Somewhere quiet. Somewhere nobody can see the way your lip trembles or the way your brain won’t stop screaming. You end up in the stairwell. Cold concrete, dim lighting.

Your knees hit the ground too fast and your bag spills. Pens and papers and highlighters scatter like your thoughts. You sit there, breathing hard, heart thudding like it’s trying to escape your chest.

You knew the reason your grades were dropping was because of the phantom dimension. Not being able to sleep well at night was probably the cause but you couldn't help but feel like it was also partially your fault. Because if you had worked harder you wouldn't be in this situation...

You're so tired. Not just sleepy. Bone-deep, soul-sick tired. You don’t cry. Not really. Just…Shut down.

You stare at nothing for a long time. Let the ache settle into your body like it belongs there. Even now, even here, part of you is still calculating how to fix this. How to be better. How to be enough.

You don’t know how long you sit there. Minutes. Hours. A lifetime. Your next class has probably started. Great, now you're skipping class...

The stairwell is silent, except for your breathing and the occasional rustle of paper every time you shift just enough to notice how much you hurt. You don’t hear the door open. Just the sound of footsteps.

“There you are.”

You flinch. You don’t look up. You can’t.

Ashlynn doesn’t push, just eases down beside you with her back against the wall, knees drawn up like yours. Not too close. Not too far. “I was worried,” She said.

You squeeze your eyes shut. You want to apologize. You want to explain. You want to vanish. But all that comes out is a whisper, “I wasn’t good enough.”

“You don’t have to be.” Ashlynn said after a moment of silence. “You’re not a number, you’re not a... A GPA.”

You swallow hard, throat burning. “Then what am I?”

She doesn't answer right away, just sits down with you and lets the silence stretch until it stops feeling heavy. And when she does speak, you feel a lot better then before, “You’re someone who deserves to rest.”

Aiden is the type of person to not even try and still get good grades. Sure, you were slightly jealous but at least you could study together! You taught him some words in French and Spanish (Mostly insults) though so that was a bonus.

Now see, he's the type of person to always always distract you when you two are studying. You try getting something done, Aiden makes you laugh or throw paper balls at his head. Even though he's always distracting you it's also from a good cause. He just wants to see you laugh.

You don’t remember falling asleep but you wake up with your face mashed into your desk, cheek stuck to a page of notes, and your neck screaming in protest. Your eyes sting and your mouth tastes like stress and stale air. For a moment, you forget where you are. Then you see the planner. The test.

The 89.

And it all comes rushing back. Before the spiral can start again, your door creaks open, “I bring gifts!” a familiar voice sings.

You groan. “Please leave.”

“Impossible. I have entered this room with snacks and zero dignity. You will accept my offerings.” You crack one eye open to see Aiden standing in your doorway holding a bag of chips, a juice box, and a lopsided drawing of you wearing a graduation cap that says 'Human Encyclopedia (With Bonus Existential Crisis)'

“I’m fine,” you mumble, voice like gravel.

“You’re lying,” He said, placing the snacks on your desk, “Which is fair, I lie about flossing every time I go to the dentist. But you look like a raccoon that lost its will to dig through trash.”

“Wow. Comforting.” Aiden slid onto your bed, legs criss-cross, “Okay but real talk. You don’t have to be perfect all the time. It’s not illegal to crash. You’re allowed to be a little disaster.”

You sigh, dragging yourself slowly upright. You did everything right. Every lecture, every flashcard, every all-nighter where your eyes burned and your fingers cramped and you told yourself it was worth it. That you were worth it... “I just—I worked so hard. And I still failed.”

“Whoa whoa whoa,” He widened his eyes, popping open the juice box like it’s wine. “Eighty-nine is not failing. Eighty-nine is… A soft flex. A round-up-to-‘A’ situation."

You should really stop chasing that impossible, suffocating idea of "enough." But you won’t. You never will... "Sometimes I wonder what would happen if I just... Stopped caring, y'know?" You muttered with a sigh.

“Okay, okay, I know it sucks but you’re still the smartest person I know." Aiden said, walking over and placing a hand on your shoulder, "And not just because you can explain quantum physics using marshmallows. You’ve survived the midterm apocalypse!”

You laugh. It’s small, scratchy, but real. And somehow, just like that, the weight doesn’t feel quite so unbearable. "Thanks, Aiden."

Logan respects you a lot. He blinks, like, 12 times when you speak fluent French out of nowhere. Honestly really confused but honestly just raised the amount of how much he admires you. You're so smart, and being that way is what makes you strong! How amazing is that?

Overthinks everything. Does he say congrats? Compliment you? Keeps trying to impress you but ends up awkwardly referencing medieval astronomy and ancient mythology instead. He does brings you calming tea though and he's also so adorable and incredibly sweet, so that's a bonus.

You don’t cry. You just... Sit there, motionless on your bed, surrounded by notes and highlighters and unfinished assignments that all feel heavier than they should.

Your body is buzzing, but your brain feels like static. You’re so tired. And even though there's a knock at your door, you don’t answer because if you did you're sure you'd collapse.

The door creaks open anyway, just a crack, and then you hear that familiar voice. “Um. Hi. I brought tea.”

You glance up and see Logan standing awkwardly in the doorway, holding a chipped mug. His sweater sleeves are pulled down over his hands. His hair’s a little messy, like he ran his fingers through it a thousand times before working up the nerve to come here.

“I—I can go, if you want,” He says quickly. “I just… You weren’t in class, and I kinda panicked. And then I remembered how you like tea when you’re stressed, so I made some, and it tastes kind of like flowers and regret, but—”

“You can come in,” You mumble.

Logan blinks like he wasn’t expecting that to work, and well, he wasn't. He stepped inside carefully, like your composure might shatter if he moved too fast. He sets the mug down on your nightstand and sits on the floor next to your bed, knees to his chest.

There's a wall of tension and awkward silence between the two of you before he speaks, “I don’t think failing a quiz makes you less of a genius,” he says.

“I didn’t fail.” You muttered.

“Right,” he nods. “Sorry. You… Crushed it slightly less than usual.”

You close your eyes. “It just sucks. I worked so hard. I feel like if I stop for one second, everything’s gonna fall apart.”

He nods again. His voice is quieter now. “But you’re not gonna fall apart... Right?”

You open your eyes, but don't dare to spare a glance at him.

“You’re the most terrifyingly brilliant person I’ve ever met,” He says. “But... You can rest, you know. You’re allowed to just… Be. Even if you’re not fixing the universe with your brain.”

You nod, finally letting yourself lean back against the pillows. The tea smells like warmth and thankfully he doesn’t leave. "Thanks, Logan... I..."

You look at him and he's staring at you like you’re made of starlight and cracked glass. Like you're enough...

"No problem."

She's just so... Great. She praises you and brings you snacks or little notes that say things like “don’t forget to eat". She looks at you like you're the smartest person in the world and then makes sure you’re resting well. All in all, Taylor's just so... Supportive.

She thinks you're so impressive to. Somehow being able to speak her language better then her is odd but she's thankful that you can remember all the verbs (I headcanon that her and Tyler don't know much Spanish because 1: Their dad's dead, and 2: Their mom never got to teach them bc she was dealing with her mental health)

You don’t even notice her come in at first. You’re sitting on the floor, surrounded by open textbooks, pens without caps, and crumpled sticky notes all while trying not to bash your head into the wall.

Your laptop is still glowing. Your hand’s still clutching a highlighter. But your brain is done. You’re staring at the wall. Not thinking. Not feeling. Just blank.

“Hey,” Taylor says softly, making you flinch slightly. She's kneeling beside you before you can speak, setting down a familiar mug “I didn’t mean to scare you, you didn’t answer my texts, and I got a little worried.”

You open your mouth to respond. Nothing comes out.

Taylor took one look at your face, the exhaustion behind your eyes, the slump of your shoulders, and doesn't tell you to keep pushing. You looked similar to her mom, and that scared her. Sleep deprived, pink eyes, hungry.

“You’ve been working so hard,” She murmured, “For so long. And I know you want to do well. I know how much this matters to you.”

You clench your jaw. Your throat burns. Your ears ring...

“But you don’t have to break yourself for it,” She said softly. “You’re allowed to rest. You’re allowed to not be perfect.”

Your eyes sting and you looked away. “I don’t want to let anyone down..."

“You haven’t,” She said almost immediately “You never have.” She reached for your hand, hesitant, gentle. “You’re more than your grades. More than your work. You’re you. And I love that version, even when she’s tired.”

Your breath hitches. And you feel yourself fall forward into her arms, into that warm, steady comfort. "I don't want to burden you with whatever mess I'm dealing with." You muttered, "You don't have to do this..."

"But I want to."

Tyler doesn’t say he’s proud and he acts like it’s no big deal. But if anyone else tries to mess with you? He’s immediately feral. He cares deeply, he’s just emotionally allergic to sincerity since he couldn't express his emotions in his childhood.

He’s lowkey checking your quiz for fun later and smiling at your notes like a dork I swear it's almost insane how much Taylor teases him for it. He buys you snacks but pretends they’re extras. (He 100% bought it for you.)

You’re just… Sitting on the floor of your room, surrounded by the shreds of what used to be your schedule and a quiz you didn’t ace. Your hands are shaking. Your vision won’t focus.

It’s quiet... You always hated the quiet whenever you were feeling like this. Until it isn’t and the door swings open a little too fast. “What the hell?”

Tyler’s in the doorway, wide-eyed, holding a bottle of water and a half-baked excuse to check on you. But one look at you on the floor, burned out and blinking too fast, and something in his chest cracks.

“You… You okay?”

The words wouldn’t come. Just silence. And guilt. And the echo of a voice inside your that said, You should be doing more.

He runs a hand through his hair, visibly flustered. “Stupid question. Of course you’re not okay.”

You try to say something, anything, but your throat tightens. He steps closer, then hesitates. “Can I... Sit?” You nod.

Tyler drops to the floor next to you like it’s foreign territory. Like he doesn’t know how to do this. Well, he does, he's done this a lot with his mom and his sister but not with a person he likes...

“You missed one question on a test,” He says finally. “That’s not the end of the world.”

“It wasn’t just the quiz. I feel like… I..." You groan, shoving your face into your hands, "It's like every time I’m one mistake away from everything falling apart.”

He goes quiet and you hate it. You'd rather have him leave than watch you fall apart...

“You’re not a robot, you know.” You blink. “I mean—hell, I know you act like one, with your eight million study guides and your color-coded pens and your encyclopedic brain... But you’re still human. You’re allowed to mess up.”

You don’t respond.

“...It actually kind of freaks me out when you push yourself like this. I know you're brilliant, but even you have limits.” He clears his throat, looking away from you. “And it sucks seeing you like this. I like it better when you're yelling at me for distracting you instead of�� Looking like the weight of the universe is on your back.”

You look up at him and he rubs the back of his neck. “…I’m really bad at this.”

“Yeah,” You say softly., turning to look at your notes, “But thanks.”

He shrugs, eyes flicking to your hands. “Here.” He reaches into his hoodie and pulls out a bag of chips, “It’s not much, but… you gotta eat. And drink some water, or I’m calling Taylor to deal with this mess.”

You smile, looking at him before taking the snack, "... Thanks... I guess."

If you forget to eat? Ben will slide a sandwich beside you, no words, just a soft tap to get your attention. He'll offer you his hoodie when you're up too late in the library, draping it over your shoulders and giving a little shrug like “You need it more.”

When someone (Barron) makes a snide comment about you “trying too hard”? He doesn't speak but his glare says it all. He smiles when you talk about things you're passionate about, nodding along and reassuring you when you doubt yourself.

You don't know when your breathing got so shallow. Everything’s buzzing. Not in your head but your whole body. Your fingers hurt from writing. Your back aches. There are sticky notes on your arm.

And you don’t remember the last thing you ate. Or slept. Or felt.

You’re sitting on the floor of your room, surrounded by torn-up flashcards and an unfinished practice test. Your laptop is still open, the screen blinking like it’s taunting you.

Your thoughts began to drag, thick and sluggish, like trying to run underwater. And for the first time in a while, the thought hits you: I can’t do this. You've never felt that way before. Never... Never been so helpless...

That’s when the knock comes. Soft. Barely there. You don’t answer but the door creaks open anyway and Ben steps inside. Quiet as always. He freezes when he sees you, red-eyed, shaking, barely holding it together.

You don’t speak. Neither does he.

But then he’s kneeling in front of you. And gently, carefully, he places something in your lap. A folded piece of paper. His handwriting.

You can let yourself have a break.

Your lip quivers and your vision blurs and when your body finally gives in, you lean forward and he catches you before you can fall too far.

Ben's arms wrap around you like he’s done this before. His hand traces grounding circles across your back. He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t need to.

When your tears start to fall, he wipes them away with soft fingers. You don’t even realize you’re shaking until he cups your hand in his, squeezing gently. And then, slowly, he pulls out one more note. You unfold it.

You’re not just brilliant when you’re winning.You’re brilliant just for being here.

99 notes · View notes

chronicallycouchbound · 2 years ago

Text

Intelligence Doesn't Equal Morality

Intellect is rooted in ableist systems and stupidity and intelligence are pointless social constructs that don't relate to morals or character.

I try to be a pretty good person, I fight for human rights, I regularly engage in mutual aid, and I care for my community. I try to do the right thing and support causes I care about and make positive changes in the world.

But I also am not very smart. I have several neurodevelopmental disorders, as well as cognitive disabilities. I can’t do simple, basic math, it’s hard for me to remember facts or algorithms, I rely entirely on spellcheck and speech-to-text to write, I failed many classes in high school and I barely passed with a low GPA, I had low pSAT scores and I never took the SATs. I moved around a lot all through school starting in third grade, and I missed a lot of basic fundamentals in learning (like how to do division and multiplication) so when I went to a different school they had already passed it and expected me to know. After my TBI, I could barely read AFTER I was cleared from my “concussion” symptoms because letters and words would flip around and I’d get headaches. Which still happens sometimes.

A lot of people see me as smart because I've learned a lot of academic language and can formulate thoughts into cohesive posts. But I lack a lot of necessary skills and rely on my caretakers to assist me. Things like budgeting and planning are extremely difficult for me. If I need to do simple addition or subtraction, even with a calculator, I quickly get confused and struggle. I forget basic information about myself all the time, let alone other subjects. I'm talking, has to check my ID for my birthday type confused. Doesn't know my name or address or what year it is confused. It happens daily, sometimes multiple times a day. Being able to type out posts like this often takes weeks and many adaptive tools to get there. Focusing is extremely difficult on many fronts, severe chronic pain, ADHD, dissociation, fatigue, migraines, and TBI, are just some of the contributing factors. I struggle daily with many things because of my lack of intellect.

I’m also privileged in the fact that I had some access to education as a homeless youth, that I had some supports in place to help me (towards the end of school), that I was somewhat able-bodied at the time and could walk or bike to and from school when the school system didn’t provide transportation. I was fortunate to have a chance to succeed, and I’m proud that I graduated high school because it was a difficult task for me, and others often aren’t offered that chance or get accommodations. I almost didn’t and I dropped out many times before graduation. I passed on sheer luck and what little privileges I had.

That all being said, me being stupid (reclaiming it here) doesn't make me a bad person. I don't hurt people because I can't do math. I may mess up things or get confused but it doesn't make me want to harm others.

We often (wrongfully) equate morals with intellect. Being ‘stupid’, ‘dumb’, or an ‘idiot’ doesn’t automatically make someone a bad person. Plenty of evil, awful, and abusive people are extremely intelligent.

I see this most notably with people advocating for IQ tests to be able to vote. Often from left-leaning people, in hopes it'll make the right (that they view as unintelligent), unable to vote. The reality is, it just hurts some of our most vulnerable members of the community while not actively doing anything to restrict some of the most dangerous members of our community-- those who know what they're doing to harm others and deliberately doing so. My voice matters, and I speak up against injustice and participate in dismantling oppressive systems. Taking away my right to vote won't make the right stop oppressing minorities (which also puts a lot of faith into the two-party voting system, which is a post for another day).

Additionally, legislative measures that discriminate against intellectually disabled people such as IQ tests for voting are also rooted in racism and classism.

Yes, education can be a vital tool when it comes to addressing discrimination and creating safer communities. But the kind of education that is measured with an IQ test (or any test) isn't the same. Building compassion and caring for others can (and should) happen at any IQ level. We can all practice this, we can all participate.

It harms our communities and stagnates our progress when we equate intelligence with high morals.

1K notes · View notes

gigiii1sblog · 27 days ago

Text

DORM- ROOM DEVIL.

Introducing… Y/N & CHRIS STURNIOLO

She’s that girl. A soft-spoken storm with bedroom eyes and a brain like a weapon. Calm, composed, always put together, cardigans, gloss, and headphones during the day. In class, she’s quiet, observant, smart without even trying. Doesn’t speak unless it matters. Shy smile, dark hair, always smells like vanilla and clean linen. But at night? She’s a different breed. Backless dresses. Bold liner. Heels that click like a warning. She walks into frat parties like she owns them, confident, untouchable, dangerous. A devil in designer. Seductive without saying a word. She’s the type to sip tequila with lipgloss still perfect, dance like she’s casting spells, and leave boys obsessed after one look. She’s a mix of soft and savage. Lana Del Rey & Kali Uchis energy with a The Weeknd & A$AP ROCKY soundtrack. A walking contradiction: angelic face, sinful vibe. Good girl grades, bad girl aura. A heartbreaker disguised as the quiet girl next door.

Christopher Sturniolo, youngest of the triplets, and everyone knows it. Not because he brags, but because he walks like the world owes him something and smirks like he already got it. He’s that classic frat-boy fantasy turned heartbreak, lacrosse gear slung over one shoulder, and a bottle of Casamigos in the other .Looks like trouble, kisses like sin, leaves like a storm. Can hook up with three girls in a weekend and still have them all texting “you up?” Wears gray sweatpants like a weapon and backward hats like armor. Addicted to parties, blunt smoke, and playlists no one else has. Has a hundred unread texts and still won’t turn off notifications. Avoids his feelings harder than he dodges DMs, but when he’s drunk and high, he might whisper something into the curve of your neck. Fights with his brothers constantly but would swing without question if anyone touched them. Has a thing for girls who act unbothered and dress like heartbreak. Chris isn’t just the frat guy. He’s the one people warn you about. And the one you still let in at 2 a.m.

Roommate Rule #1: Don’t hook up with each other.

They broke it..

Y/N moved in with a box of worn-out paperbacks, mascara, and a warning from her best friend: “Whatever you do, don’t fall for a Sturniolo. Especially not that one”.

Chris opened the door shirtless and half-awake, a Red Bull in one hand, and someone else’s bra hanging off the doorknob behind him like a trophy.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Y/N muttered.

He grinned. That cocky, lopsided smirk that made girls fall and Y/N want to swing.

“You’re the new roomie?” he said. “Guess hell really did freeze over.”

She rolled her eyes and walked past him without a word, like she didn’t already hate him on principle.

From the start, it was war.

Y/N was tequila and lip gloss, fast comebacks, louder music, 4.0 GPA and always the last one to leave the party.

Chris was smoke and tequila stained jeans and a devil’s grin, racking up attention like it was a game he always won.

They couldn’t stand each other.

Competed over everything.

Who had more people’s eyes on them.

Who could make the other crack first.

Still, he’d stumble in at 3 a.m., reeking of weed and adrenaline, throwing smug comments her way like grenades.

And she gave it right back.

But one night, things shifted, too much tequila, too many shared glances, a song playing low in the background while neither of them looked away.

“Stop staring,” she snapped.

“I’m not,” Chris murmured, stepping closer. “I’m calculating.”

“Calculating what?”

“How many more seconds until you kiss me or slap me.”

The rule didn’t just break.

It disintegrated.

And so did the line between love and hate.

COMMENT TO BE IN THE TAGLIST!

@izzylovesmatt @riggysworld @amiraisafreakokaysorry @ansteeze @pair-of-pantaloons @kitty-meow-meow44 @sturnslux3 @kalel2005 @sarahsturnn

58 notes · View notes

brooooswriting · 1 year ago

Note

Could you please write Leighton giving r some lessons in math cause r is terrible but needs to pass the course

R going with leighton to shop different things

Progressing to a relationship

You can do whatever you desire with this 😅

Tutors to lovers

Every day, your parents showed that they knew nothing about you. You didn't wanna go to Essex, and you definitely didn't wanna take advanced math, but they made sure that it was impossible for you to get out of it. Their demands on you were crazy; a 3.7 GPA was what they called terrible. And with your current understanding of advanced math? You were so fucked, and the person sitting next to you thought the same thing.

“Psst, look. You gotta divide this by 4, and then you have to calculate its root. Then you have 6 as the value of on x.” Leighton whispered to you, hoping to help you understand what the teacher was doing at the front. But the way you looked at her so helplessly and confused made her laugh louder than she intended to.

After class, you quickly stopped the blonde before she could walk out. “Leighton, hey. Thank you for trying to help me. Can I buy you a coffee as a thanks?” you asked with a small smile. She looked at you for a second before nodding. “Alright, then follow me” you walked out and towards sips, making small talk on the way there.

“After you,” you mumbled as you opened the door to the coffee shop for her. She thanked you and walked in, looking around the place. “What? Have you never been here before?” you asked with a small laugh, signaling that you were joking.

She looked at you for a moment before scrunching up her nose a bit and shaking her head. “No, never been. Not the biggest fan of cheap coffee and of whatever it smells like in here.” You grinned slightly as you walked toward the counter, your wallet already in hand.

“Yeah, well, I would have taken you to a more fancy place, but we both have another class in 20 minutes, and a good coffee is like 15 minutes away.” Leighton nodded, an understanding look on her face as you stepped up to the counter. After she told you what she wants to drink, you turn towards the counter again. “Oh, hey, Kimberly. How are you? Can I get two iced lattes and two blueberry muffins?”

“Y/n, it's so great to see you. I'm fine, thank you. How are you?” you talked for a bit while you paid, and she made your coffee, the blonde only standing behind you. “Alright, here you are. Have a great day, see you later Leighton” Both of you said goodbye before sitting on a park bank outside.

“So, can I ask you something?” Leighton asked as you played with her straw. You nodded, waiting for her to ask as you watched people walk by. “Why are you taking advanced math? Not to be rude, but you suck at it”

You laughed slightly before taking a deep breath. “Well, my father took it, my mother took it and my sister at Harvard is taking it. So, even if I suck at it and hate it, I have to take it too. But it seems like I’m failing it” you explained, looking at her for a second before continuing, “unlessssss someone would be willing to tutor me.” The grin you sent her made her smile while looking down at the bench to hide her slight blush.

“You know what, fine. Why not. Come by my dorm tomorrow at 5 ok?” The blonde didn’t even wait for an answer before she walked off, joining Bella on her way to the next class.

The next day you arrived at her dorm at 5 pm sharp, being greeted by Kimberly and Whitney who sat in their common room. “Hey y/n, Leighton is still in her room” Kimberly started but was quickly interrupted.

“Oh my god Bella” leighton screamed from inside their room, “can’t you just fuck him anywhere else? Jeez, i have a tutoring lesson in here”

“This isn’t just your room Leighton. This is our room and it’s made for sleeping” Bella argued back making you girls in the living room giggle.

“Dude, that’s so fucked from you. Keep away from my bed! If one thing is out of place later you’re in trouble!” The three of you stopped giggling as Leighton stormed out of the door, nearly running into you. “Y/n, let’s go. We gonna go to the library or some shit because somebody is being intolerable” she screamed the last part making you laugh.

“Alright, come on. You gotta calm down” you pulled Leighton out of the room, saying goodbye to the rest of her dorm mates. You went into the library where you sat down, and minutes later you were desperate for it to stop.

“Y/n, cmon. You gotta concentrate dude, it’s not that hard” the blonde complained as she went over the same exercise again and again.

“It may not be hard for you blondie, but I’m dying over here. I would even fail basic math class, there is no way I’ll ever pass this shit” you whimpered out, letting your head hit the table. Normally, stupid and dramatic behavior like this would have annoyed the shit out of her but when you did it? Well it was kinda cute.

“Ok, let’s start new ok? We will start at zero and once you’re at one we will get something to eat?” At the word ‘eat’ you immediately perked up, sitting straighter to find new concentration.

It took over an hour for you to get to at least one but Leighton was sure that the hardest work was now done. Or at least she hoped. “So, cafeteria?” You asked as you stuffed all your books into your bag. You received a nod and took off, happy to finally get some food.

Since your first lesson Leighton helped you during class and like two times a week for an hour to four, depending on how fucked you were. And finally, you went from an E to a c- and you were getting even better. The connection between you and Leighton also got better from time to time, creating a strong and unexpected bond.

‘If I have to listen to any of my roommates even one more second, I’m going to kill all of them and then myself”

You couldn’t help but giggle at Leighton text, parents weekend was coming up again and it made her more nervous every day. And while she, even if she won’t admit, actually loved her roommates their chattiness and stuff could get to her.

‘Be outside your dorm in 2’

You texted back, quickly putting on your shoes and jacket before grabbing your wallet and car keys. In the matter of minutes you stood in front of a perfectly styled blonde who wore an annoyed look until she saw you. It was quickly being replaced with a smile as she walked toward you. “So, why’d you want me to be here?” She asked with a giddy voice, as she couldn’t wait to hear what you planned.

“Let’s go to my car and then I’ll tell you” you lead her to your jeep outside of the campus. “My lady” you grinned as you opened the door for her and stretched out your hand to help her inside.

“Thank you very much, such a gentleman. Sooo where are we going?” She studied your face as you pulled out of the parking lot.

“We are going to do something that relaxes you like nothing else”

“What?” She asked, quite confused.

“We are going shopping” you grinned as you drove on to the highway, “but we might have to drive like an hour or something, there’s nothing close that has your standards” her jaw fell as you stopped talking. She couldnt believe that you actually knew where she liked to shop and that you were just out here driving her there.

“You’re kidding right?” She asked, a squeal leaving her when she figured out that you were telling the truth. “That’s so sweet, thank you”

After over an hour of comfortable driving you finally parked your car near her favorite shops. “Alright princess, let’s go” you grinned as you opened the passenger door, your hand stretched out to help her out. “Where to first?”

Your first shop was YSL which leighton already left with two begs. Or rather you as you immediately took the bags so she could look around in the next shop which was Balenciaga and then Prada, Givenchy, Versace, Dior, Louis Vuitton, and Tom Ford.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to carry anything?” The blonde asked as she could barely see you underneath all the bags you carried for her. At least one of each brand, or rather at least two of each brand. She couldn’t deny that it was extremely cute, the way you did all of this for her.

“Positive. Are you sure you don’t wanna go anywhere else anymore?” You asked as she walked back to the car. If you were really quiet you could hear her credit card scream.

“Yeah, but maybe we could go and eat something at a real restaurant?”

“Sure, what did you have in mind?” You asked while putting the bags in the trunk, the blonde standing next to you. After she found a restaurant she liked you made your way there, even from the outside you could see that it was really fancy. “Are you sure I can go inside like this?” You weren’t dressed badly but definitely not as expensive as her which made you unsure of your outfit.

“Of course, you look good” the smile she sent you made your heart beat faster and your face flush a little red. “Now Let’s go, I’m starving” she was out of the car in the matter of seconds, waiting for you to join her. Once you left the car you walked next to each other, your hands constantly brushing against the other ones. You had heard that Leighton was not a big pda fan so you guessed that it was an accident. But you didn’t pull away in case of this being on purpose.

After you guys ate it was already late and the eventful day was catching up to her as she fell asleep in the car. You smiled at the sight, she looked a lot calmer than most of the time and you couldn’t see one bit of the stress from this morning. When you had to stop on a red light you retrieved your jacket from the backseat and put it over her to act like a blanket.

You carefully tapped her shoulder to wake her up which didn’t work. “Leighton, we are here. Cmon, wake up” you whispered and shook her shoulder.

“M awake” she grumbled as her eyes slowly opened.

“Good, take the time that I need to get your backs to wake up okay?” She gave you a small nod before you disappeared, wondering how you carried all those bags before. After you finally got each and every bag on you, you walked back to the passenger seat where Leighton was finally awake.

“Alright, let’s go” she jumped out of the car, your jacket now over her shoulders and her pinky linked with yours as she pulled you along to her dorm. “You can just put them down over there” she told you as she pointed to the corner next to her closet. “Thank you, a lot. The last days were really stressful and today made me forget about it” you smiled at her, taking a step forward.

“It was my pleasure. Weirdly, I can’t think of anything better than carrying your bags for you” she giggles shyly and also takes a step toward you. Your hand gravitates towards her waist while hers carefully rests on your shoulder. You leaned in further, your lips slightly touching as your hand tightened around her waist. But before you could do anything else, Bella came in.

“Leighton! Guess what” she started to scream out, making you pull away quickly. Your hands left her waist and were immediately pushed into your pockets. “Oh my god, did I just cockblock you?” The dark haired girl screamed even louder making both of you cringe.

“No, no you didn’t. I gotta go, I have class really early tomorrow. Thanks again Leigh and I’ll see you around Bella” you quickly left the room without looking back but you could still feel the blondes nerves.

You decided that you’d talk to her tomorrow, it was late and she probably had to listen to Bella ramble about whatever was going on. So tomorrow just seemed like the safer option, at least until it was later the next day and you still haven’t seen her. It was Friday which meant that you didn’t have a course with her and you were extremely busy. But as you were scared that she might think that you were trying to avoid her.

“Sad I didn’t see you today. Sorry I left so quickly, but I couldn’t stay after Bella said whatever she said. Can’t wait to see you again :)”

You took a deep breath before hitting send. By now you were scarred that she might be avoiding you and that she was actually very unhappy about the kiss. What you didn’t know was that Leightons heart started to beat faster when she saw your name pop up on her screen. She was scared of what might now be between you two after you left so suddenly.

“Whose text are you smiling at like that?” Whitney asked as they all sat in the common room. While she did try to annoy her roommate she was more than happy to see her friend like this.

“None of your business” she grumbled, her smile still being very apparent.

“Oh, I bet it’s y/n” Kimberly shyly added. She was good with Leighton but she sometimes still scared her.

“Gosh, they would be a hot ass couple. Y/n’s hot. Damn you’re a lucky lady” Bella said, slapping her hand on the blondes leg which made her glare at her.

“Remember how I said none of your business?” They all laughed as she returned to her phone.

“Get that, wished I could have left too. I thought you were avoiding me. I’ll see you tomorrow right? Are u bringing ur parents to math too?”

You immediately opened the chat, not giving a damn about seeming needy.

“Ofc, that’s the only reason they’re coming. Couldn’t dream of avoiding u, wanna meet up before math tomorrow?”

After you talked about when and where you’d meet tomorrow you texted her goodnight and went to sleep, your mind filled with pictures of the blonde.

The next morning you were up way too early but when your parents came you had to get ready a lot more than normally. “There you are y/n” your mother called out as she walked up to you with open arms, a fake smile on her face. You hugged all of them as a greeting before standing opposite of them.

“Alright, we will go to that parents thing and then we will come to your math class ok?” Your father didn’t wait for an answer as they walked away making you sigh. You, just as many others, were more than happy about this parents thing today. It gave you some peace and quiet.

Leighton was waiting for you in front of the lecture room, the new bag she bought with you slung over her shoulder. “Hey” you smiled shyly as walked up to her, her face adorned with a similar one.

“Hello” she looked around before continuing to talk, “I am so happy about this parent meeting. I was about to kill myself” you laughed nodding.

“You’re telling that to me? My parents asked about this course before asking about me. And I wish I were joking” both of you laughed before just staring at each other for a moment. In a moment of confidence the blonde pulled you into the empty room, she smiled brightly as she noticed that you happily followed.

The moment the door closed, your hands were on her hips and hers were cupping the back of your neck. You didn’t need any words before your lips crashed against each other, her scent developing you whole. Without breaking the kiss you guided her against the wall, her back making harsh contact with it. “Sorry” you mumbled when she gasped, barely breaking the kiss. You kept making out until the blondes phone started to ring.

“Let it ring” she mumbled when she noticed that you were pulling away. You laughed and tried to pull away again but she kept pulling you closer or chasing your lips.

“Leigh, I’d love to keep making out. Trust me. But our parents are gonna come soon and if I had to guess I’d say that this is your dad” you explained as you pulled away, your hands rubbing along her hips. She groaned before looking at her phone, seeing that you were right. With another groan she answered the phone, the arm around your neck keeping you close. Since you got bored when she was on the phone, you started to lightly kiss her neck up and down.

She bit her lip to stop her giggles, but she didn’t push you away. Instead she pulled you even closer, just waiting to hang up. When she finally did, she gave you a quick kiss. “My parents will be here in 10 minutes” she told you, her fingers playing with the baby hair on the back of your neck.

“Then we should probably fix your makeup and my hair huh?” You asked as one of your hands ran through your hair. When you received a nod you opened your hand for her to give you her pocket mirror so she could see what she was doing.

“You’re a great mirror holder babe” she joked when she was done freshening up her makeup and then fixed your hair for you.

“Babe?” You grinned watching her face fall and her confidence suddenly replaced with doubt.

“I mean- yeah, we are- I thought” you decided to interrupt her as her behavior freaked you out. A not confident Leighton was a new world.

“You thought right, I was just messing with you. Cmere” you pulled her closer for another kiss, that quickly turned into multiple small pecks.

“Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N” your mothers voice suddenly rang.

Gosh, you were fucked.

#reader insert #brooooswriting #leighton murray x reader #renee rapp x reader #tslocg x reader

459 notes · View notes

mayoshifts · 4 months ago

Text

how i manifested the greatest academic comeback

tldr: nerd starts tweaking over the possibility of failing a class and starts trying to manifest it away. it worked

alright guys it’s the end of the grading period and let me say, i CLUTCHED 💪🏽💪🏽

so for my grades, 3 weeks ago my geometry grade was a 28. NOW BEFORE YOU JUDGE, lemmie explain how it got that way ☺️

last december i got into a car accident and injured my right shoulder. bcs of that i’ve had procedures done and physical therapy every tuesday and thursday (sometimes friday). so i always leave school in the middle of my geometry class to make it to my appointments.

i can’t skip phys therapy bcs there’s a whole legal case and all that stuff (i’ll tell that story once everything is settled 🤫) but basically if i skip too many times, then it can be used against me legally so i literally gotta go.

anyways considering i always leave early in geometry, my grade was COOKED bcs i was missing dols (demonstration of learning, basically a 5 question quiz where you answer questions pertaining to what we learned) and i missed a test.

i was real stressed out bcs i’m an honor roll student. like the only time ive ever gotten a failing grade was freshman year in PE. if that doesn’t show the extent of my nerdiness idk what will. and y’all, i genuinely could not live in a world where i failed MATH, that would have been my 13th reason on top of everything else going on rn.

so because of that, i used my little trick (affirming and persisting) in order to fix my grade. i affirmed that i would not fail, and i wouldn’t get anything less than an 80 on my report card. i’ve also been using that distraction method with the void and stuff.

fast forward to about 3 weeks of trying to fix my grade and make everything up, i was still sitting at a 68 (around 3-4 days ago). at that point i had started saying that i would have around a 70 if i made everything up. i was literally calculating what i had to get on the next 2 grading cycles and final in order to have an 80 for the semester.

then, out of nowhere, my teacher put in some random assignments that i had done and a binder check, with a high weight on the grade since it was categorized as a test. for the binder check and random assignments i got 100%. i also had a quiz yesterday that i got an 83 on, which was also a test grade.

so my 68 turned into an 85. i was content with having an 85 but i still had a few dols to make up so i stayed afterschool today and finished them.

now i have a 90🎉🎉🎉 i’m so happy, id like to thank my peers on this beautiful app for showing me my true potential and myself for being open minded and willing to explore. guys i swear, ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS PERSIST AND BELIEVE IN YOURSELF. if your conscious mind and 3d starts telling you differently from your desires, correct it. you write your story, not anything else. towards the end i was losing hope of my gpa being so high but my constant work in writing my story and has led me to be great

once again😄

#reality shifting #shiftblr #shifting community #shifters #shifting #shifting antis dni #shifting blog #kpop shifting #shifting diary #shifting consciousness

57 notes · View notes

d33pwithinmys0ul · 3 months ago

Text

*ೃ༄ Open Season

Eren Yeager x Reader, one shot

➷ tattoo artist Eren, angst, fluff, kissing, mentioned mikasasha, college au, smoking, right person wrong time, unhappy/bittersweet ending, no smut

You take a chance on returning to your hometown for spring break. You didn't expect to run into Eren Yeager---a distant but familiar face--least of all getting to know him, and his perspective on your shitty town.

➷ inspired by the song Open Season by High Highs

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ read under the cut or here on ao3!

taglist: @arixhills

Coming home for the shortest break of the year made the most sense. You could only bear the nostalgia for so long, and though the trees were dotted with pretty flowers in bloom, they stank like hell.

Mikasa and Sasha were the sweetest welcoming party, waving a hand made sign and giving enthusiastic hugs at the airport. You’ve been aching to see them, the amazing girls you spent your early life with.

You all chattered on the way back to your hometown, eager to catch up on each other’s lives, since the break in the semester finally allowed you to relax.

It’s been three years since you first left Ermich, and since the last time you sat in Mikasa’s Lexus, being jostled around as she would speed through the streets, skipping class and smoking in empty parks. Her backseat was a dear friend.

The girls stayed in Ermich to go to university locally, and had been living together for a while. They never made you feel like a third wheel, even when they started dating.

You had moved to Mitras to go to MSU. They had a great program for the degree you wanted, and you needed to get out of this damn town. You supposed you meant to come back more often, but since going no-contact with your parents, you preferred to stay at your apartment by campus during breaks, and friends would just come to you.

Well, just Mikasa and Sasha, really. You didn’t have much here besides them.

Seeing the place you grew up in was nice, but it also made you a little uneasy. It was uncanny coming back, rediscovering familiar buildings and roads as if they were from a dream. At the same time, it was like you only left for college yesterday.

“How was your flight?” Mikasa said, making eye contact with you through the rearview mirror.

“It was fine, bit of a pain in the ass with the delays.” You smiled feebly. “I’m pretty sure your guest bed is bigger than mine at home, though. I’m excited to knock out after the festivities.”

“God, you need to buy a new mattress,” Sasha snorted. “We’re gonna pick up my pipe and a bag first, if that’s cool with you,” she turned in her seat to face you. “Mikasa’s DD tonight, so we can go crazy on some cheap margaritas.”

“That sounds perfect,” you laughed. “How were your midterms?”

“Don’t get me started,” Sasha groaned. “I’ve been trying to calculate my GPA for the worst case scenario.”

“She’s gonna be fine,” Mikasa rolled her eyes and rubbed her girlfriend’s thigh reassuringly. “Where do you wanna eat, Y/n?

“I don’t have a preference!”

You reached their apartment and brought your luggage in. You had only a few minutes to find the guest bedroom and toss your things aside before heading out to the parking lot.

Mikasa stood with Sasha by the car, the latter babbling to a tall guy in a sweater. He lit a cigarette between his teeth, his hand covering the flame from the light wind.

“Ready to go?” Mikasa asked as you joined them. “You remember Eren?

“Yeah,” you said, surprised.

“He lives upstairs. Just gonna get a bag before we head to dinner.”

Eren turned and gave you a little wave, relaxed, though a little somber. His dark hair was pulled back into a bun, with occasional strands falling to frame his face. He looked so different from the plain, nearly invisible kid that lurked around Mikasa growing up.

You had very few memories of him. You recalled playing a board game at Mika’s house when you were young, and Eren was a sore loser, quitting the game once things went awry. He’d be a flash of gray in high school, the faint smell of weed behind him, eyes tired and low. You heard once that he had started a fight with his lab partner over a nickname.

You barely interacted with him, but the familiarity was just there, just like everything else in your hometown.

“You went to high school with us, right?” He asked as he exhaled, a glimmer of recognition behind his eyes. You wondered what he could recall about you.

“Um–yeah, I moved,” you said pathetically. You didn’t remember Mikasa’s childhood best friend being this hot. Maybe it was the jetlag. “I’m Y/n.”

His lips betrayed a brief half-smile.

“Yeah, I thought so. Where are you guys going?” He put the cig out on the ground with his foot.

“104th Street,” Sasha said dreamily. “Half off taco plates for students. Swoon. Y/n will love it.”

“Sounds great,” Eren snorted. “Mind if I tag along?”

“Maybe,” Mikasa wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“Come on, I’m hungry, and you hate being DD. Let me take you guys.”

“Not a scratch,” she huffed and tossed him the keys.

To Eren’s insistence, you took shotgun, and the other girls climbed in the back seat.

Why Mikasa conceded to letting him drive her car, you had no clue, but she seemed content to lay sprawled haphazardly with her girlfriend in the back. Music blasted through the speakers, and Sasha began to pack a bowl.

“So, you’re home on break?” Eren said, glancing at you before directing his eyes back to the road. There were the dark strokes of a tattoo peeking up the sides of his neck, and you couldn’t help but ogle at the designs against his tan skin.

“Yeah, I go to MSU.” You fiddled with your hair, and admired his profile as he drove. “It’s my first time back in Ermich in a while.”

“How’re you liking it?” He put another cig between his teeth and lit it with one hand on the wheel.

“It’s fine,” you shrugged modestly. “This place doesn’t change much.”

“Fuckin stuck in the 90’s,” Mikasa coughed, and smoke slowly filled the car.

“Harsh,” Eren shook his head. “Never thought Ermich was that bad. It’s everywhere else that’s fucked, soulless.”

“Here we go,” Sasha rolled her eyes and passed you the pipe.

“What do you mean?” You laughed.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Eren said. “You ever explore Mitras besides campus and fuckin’ frat row? It’s all too busy and rotten. Here’s small enough to reminisce on the past, and big enough to hide from it. All arranged in a perfect balance.”

“And what if you do run into someone you know?” You laughed quietly. “Destiny? Fate?”

Eren repressed another smile. The dark clothes, the ink on his arms peeking from under his sleeves, and his angular features all seemed to clash with the delight in his expression. He cracked the windows, allowing the smoke to seep out into the cold, and leaned towards the opening.

“I was thinking more.. inevitable, fixed.”

You always thought that Mikasa was a reckless driver, but Eren had outdone her by far.

He insisted on taking a detour to the restaurant, and pulled into a parking lot to do donuts, howling with laughter as the car spun in circles, with terrifying, dangerous ease.

You laughed with delight as you tried to take a hit, and everything twirled around you. The wheels squealed against the pavement, the vibrant blue sky a blur.

“Well?” Eren seemed satisfied when he parked.

“You’re insane. That was incredible,” you coughed.

“Just lucky we haven’t eaten yet,” Sasha groaned. “Fuck off, Yeager.”

You had more fun at dinner than you thought you would.

Mikasa and Sasha were squished into one side of the booth as you shared the other with Eren, and learned more about all their happenings while you were away. You tore through drinks as you caught up, rehashed drama, and became comfortably crossed.

“I swear, nobody can decide on who Professor Ackerman’s seeing,” Sasha waved a fry as she spoke. “I mean Hitch thinks it’s Professor Smith, but hello, what about Dr. Zoe?”

“I dunno,” Mikasa said thoughtfully. “I don’t think he’s seeing anyone at all, is that a hot take?”

“Wait, do you mean that guy Petra’s obsessed with?” You gasped.

“You’re all shameless,” Eren snorted at your drunken entertainment. He hid a grin behind his glass, unable to take his eyes off of you as you loosened up, flushed and extroverted.

Once the liquor really hit, Mikasa and Sasha seemed to see only each other—they babbled and laughed, and you really didn’t mind. You were just happy to be with your friends, though Eren’s attentiveness to you made up for it entirely.

You learned the basics of each other, but beyond favorite ice cream flavors and music, you spoke of how you both tackled life after high school.

Eren tried community college while he was an assistant at Paths Life, a tattoo shop in downtown Ermich. School wasn’t for him, so he decided to pursue his career more seriously, and opted to focus on taking care of himself. He liked Marlboros and sketching, fast cars, and punk rock. To your surprisingly daring request, he was happy to show off a recent addition to his sleeve, two long rectangular swords with their blades crossed.

You were sad to see him go when you returned to the apartment.

You were a little drunk, and didn’t want to get carried away with your new crush. Mikasa and Sasha had gone too hard, and stumbled inside, and you quickened your pace to the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Eren called.

You blushed and turned back to look at him.

“If I don’t set out some water for Mika and Sasha now, we’re all gonna regret it in the morning,” you stifled an embarrassed laugh.

“Well, that’s on you for turning up at the 104 on a Monday,” Eren snorted and gave you Mikasa’s keys.

You lingered in the doorway.

“Hang a bit with me before you go?” He leaned against the balcony railing, facing you. “Sunset’s nice.”

Your eyes darted from him to your hand on the doorknob, heart racing. The sun was starting to set. You hardly noticed.

“Yeah.”

You shut and locked the apartment and stood next to him. His skin was bathed in the orange and pink rays, his features casting angular shadows and his eyes lit up from the glow.

“Quit staring,” he smirked, finally meeting your gaze. “Sky’s more interesting. Look.” The apartment complex was surrounded by the pretty trees, blossoms floating to the ground, wind rippling through the branches. He pointed out a pair of birds soaring above them. “Freer than we’ll ever be.”

You chewed the inside of your lip.

“Did you mean all that stuff you said, about Ermich?”

“Of course. How do you feel about coming home?” Eren said, eyebrows raised.

“You’re so annoying,” you grumbled. Your elbows touched as you both dangled your arms over the railing.

“That’s more like it,” Eren grinned.

It was a comfortable silence, accented by the quiet roar of cars on the street. The blocky sillouette of distant houses seemed to swallow the mural of color in the sky as the sun sank.

Your eye caught a tattoo you didn’t notice before, a bronze key, wedged between two roses. You were tracing his skin before you realized it, but he didn’t flinch. Eren didn’t seem to mind.

“What’s it mean?” You asked, your fingers on the design.

“My first tat,” he said fondly. “Faded to hell because I did it to myself. Technique wasn’t great, but not terrible. It represents a key that my father gave me a long time ago—I was young and stupid and lost it. It was–um, one of the last things he gave me, before he and my mom passed away.”

You withdrew your hand and met his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“I came to terms with their deaths a long time ago,” Eren shook his head. “Wanted to honor them by it. Their initials are in the roses, there.” He took your finger and placed it on a CY. “That’s why Mikasa’s family took me in. You’ve met them before. I think I came out alright.”

He hesitated to continue, but you gave him an encouraging nod and went for his arm again, rubbing it gently.

“Dunno how much you remember of me as a kid,” he said with a small smile. “I saw that blank stare when Mika mentioned me earlier. I always thought you were cool, for what it’s worth.”

“Me, cool,” you said incredulously.

“In your way, yes,” Eren insisted. “You were always really nice to me whenever we crossed paths. Of course Mikasa loves you, and she hates most people that aren’t her girlfriend. You looked out for both of them, kept ‘em out of trouble. I should’ve been doing that, instead of wallowing and acting up.”

The light was getting low, the bright sky had turned into a symphony of purple and blue as dark drew closer.

“You had a lot to deal with,” you shook your head. You’re doing better than you give yourself credit for.”

You reached for his hand and squeezed it, and gave him a hopeful smile. You drew away, but he caught your fingers and wrapped his hand firmly around yours again. Your heart soared, though you felt a little childish, flustered over his touch. His fingers interlocked with yours, and you prayed your palms were dry.

“It’s been really nice to see you, you know.” Eren said, voice suddenly soft. He seemed so vulnerable, and he was painted blue in the twilight. He took a step closer, and put his other hand at the small of your back.

“You too,” you breathed.

His gaze was full of longing, and you could practically see yourself in his blown pupils. He leaned in slowly and met your lips as they parted. The kiss was so gentle, and fleeting, like the petals that fell from the trees. You pressed against him, hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat.

Eren was patient and sweet, moving with you, savoring the push and pull. He ran his tongue along your bottom lip, breath shallow.

He kissed you, and kissed you, hands roaming, from your back to your hair, your waist. Your stomach tossed and turned, and you adored the way he tasted, how warm he was. It felt so good.

You were miserable most of the time, and now, you felt like someone could finally see you. You tried not to think about how temporary this felt, that his recklessness might have been fueled by the moment.

Eren groaned against your mouth, his hands strong and firm. He lowered his head and brushed his lips against your neck, teasing you with the tip of his nose and his warm breath fanned across your skin.

You shivered and he laughed quietly, and took your face into his hands. They had rough calluses and smelled like smoke, but you didn’t want him to let go. Your knees were weak as he held you. You bit his lip gently, and met his tongue with yours.

Eren pressed his back against the railing and put his knee between your legs. You shuddered as his fingers brushed the back of your neck, and you kissed him with more urgency as you leaned against him, panting. Your teeth clashed and the gentle suction of your kisses drove you mad. You couldn’t focus on anything but him.

You were dizzy when he finally pulled away, and you bitterly longed for his touch.

“Will I see you around?” You blurted.

Your flushed cheeks and glossy lips brought a smile to his face.

“I’m upstairs whenever I’m not inking up. Come around whenever you like, okay?”

“Okay,” you said breathlessly. “Goodnight, Eren.”

“Goodnight.”

…

When everyone woke the next afternoon, you and the girls went out for brunch—it was Sasha’s idea, of course. She was starving, and Mikasa had a pounding headache.

“Do you think Eren wants to come?” Sasha asked her girlfriend as they walked to the car.

You shamefully perked up at the mention of his name.

“I’ve had enough of Eren for one break,” Mikasa rolled her eyes. “Besides, I think he has a lot of clients coming up. His car is already gone.”

“Yeah, maybe another time,” you said lamely.

“We’ll have more fun without him,” Sasha laughed.

You tried to settle into a more relaxed mindset, allowing yourself to have fun as time went on. You weren’t entirely successful—you greened out at the aquarium after brunch, and one day Mikasa wanted to go hiking on some local trails, which left you gasping for air as you spent nearly all the daylight wandering outside. You visited more obscure restaurants, and went on night drives, meeting the occasional familiar face in public. Others were coming home for break too. Eren was right.

Every day you would glance at the window above Mika and Sasha’s apartment, hoping you’d catch him leaving for work or coming back to his place. You didn’t know where Path’s Life was—you should’ve asked, and for his number too, instead of being so caught up in your own shit.

Your heart ached as the week flew by, and you couldn’t bring yourself to ask Mikasa about him. You hadn’t told her or Sasha about what happened, too embarrassed by how quickly you folded, how much you liked him.

Eren must have been really busy. You managed just a peek of him one early morning before you left for home, when Sasha wanted to wake and bake out the window. She had called out to him before he entered his car, and he saw the two of you, and waved, with a wide grin.

You were dumb to think that things would work out. You hoped this wasn’t on purpose, it couldn’t have been..

You dreaded going back to school. It felt like a jail sentence. Spring break was a breath of fresh air, in more ways than one.

It was almost funny how you seemed to run into every old friend or neighbor in Ermich, except the one person you wanted so badly. Things always seemed to turn out that way for you. Things that can’t be controlled, and cut off too short—inevitable, fixed.

45 notes · View notes

oswaldthatendswald · 27 days ago

Text

When I tell someone that the semester where I was nigh-religiously working through the One Piece anime was one of the happiest and most productive periods of my life, the reaction is usually laughter, with an undercurrent of mild concern. When I explain that the reason it was so productive was because I had put myself on a schedule so tight, the military would be envious, the laughter usually dries up and they start blinking at me in bafflement.

See, I don't know if you know this, but There's A Lot Of Fucking One Piece Episodes. I sat down and calculated out how long it would take me to watch them all and was displeased with the results. It was too many hours. I had work to do! Classes to attend! If I was going to make any progress, I needed to Plan.

I had a few things going for me that semester: First, I was living in residence at my university. This brought the amount of time I needed to commute down to pretty much zero, meaning that I wasn't wasting time bussing around the city. Second, I had a meal plan at one of the residence cafeterias, meaning that I also didn't need to cook or clean up after cooking. And third, my first class of the day was at 9 (AM), meaning that I didn't need to get up until about 8, so I could stay up until midnight and still get a decent night's sleep.

I've never been a particularly organized person, but that semester, by god, I taught myself how to be. I plotted out all my coursework, typing out a day by day schedule for all the work I needed to do. When I got home from classes, I sat down and did all my work-- not rushing through it; I'm still an honours student, which means I can't have lower than a 3.5 GPA. Truth be told, I actually got some of my best grades ever that semester. I tried to get all my work done by seven, which was when I went to dinner, but I had a hard cut off at ten. It didn't matter whether the work was done or not. If I had to do it tomorrow, so be it. I Did Not Work After Ten.

And then I watched One Piece until bed. I tried to get through a minimum of five episodes per night (though sometimes I had to take a break; I think I stopped watching for almost a full week after Usopp and Luffy fought in Water 7). On weekends or days off, I would often just sit down and watch One Piece from the moment I woke up until bedtime. From October to December, I watched.... About 525 episodes?

To be clear, I was not isolating myself. I spent almost every lunch with my friends, I had fairly regular date nights with my partner, and I was attending classes consistently. It's just that, for those 3 months, every single moment of my free time was gloriously devoted to burning through as much of One Piece as possible. And it was fantastic.

#and then i got to fishman island and the anime quality took a nosedive so i switched to the manga #which took much less time to read #the next semester i started writing somewhere to be safe which probably took up as much time as watching the anime had before #so switching to the manga worked out well in the long run!

30 notes · View notes

feyhunter78 · 1 year ago

Note

I just found your page and I totally didn’t read all of your Miguel O’Hara fics. One I love how you write kissing you caught that spark off a kiss with someone you love in a way most books don’t get right.

I can’t sit here and sing your praise all day but I do have a question. Fully up to you and if it’s just a Drabble that ok but will you ever being writing something else for Side walk kisses? It’s so cute and I can see more moments with Miguel and Y/N just being silly cute mindless college students so helplessly in love. Fluff smut angst whatever you decide to Drabble in I will be fully ok with

(This is the first time I’ve done an ask so sorry I I seem a little over excited)

AHHH I love when I'm people's first asks, it always makes me feel so special!!! I thought I'd try my hand at a bit of angst for you anon!

Insecurities

You know you shouldn’t be jealous. Shouldn’t feel bad about yourself, shouldn’t be debating making up some excuse and dashing off to the humanities building to rid yourself of this pit in your stomach like a snake sheds its skin.

But that would require leaving Miguel alone with Xina, and you think you’d rather die than do that. So, you’re stuck in the courtyard right outside the library, holding onto Miguel’s bicep possessively as you struggle to keep up with the flow of conversation.

Now you wouldn’t say you’re an insecure person, sure you have your insecurities like everyone else, but they don’t plague your mind, or weigh heavily on you as you go about your day-to-day business. Right now, though? As you take in Xina, her long thick dark hair, her stunning almond eyes that sparkle with intelligence, the flawlessness of her skin, the way she so easily keeps up with Miguel as they discuss the intersection between genetics and robotics, you’re feeling pretty insecure.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking, when making your calculations you have to factor in the deficiencies in the code, just as you have to factor in potential genetic flaws.” Xina says, a smile tugging at the edge of her lips, excitement clear on her face.

“Of course, with genetics it’s harder to eradicate flaws than in code, but I could see it following a similar pattern.” Miguel responds, nodding at her words.

You’re so lost. If they wanted to discuss the intricacies of the English language or the way philosophers can so heavily affect the development of a nation’s culture you would be there, front row and ready, but science? Science is not your forte.

Xina laughs and smacks Miguel’s arm, pulling you out of your thoughts, Miguel is laughing too so you do the same which draws her attention to you.

“Oh, y/n, I’m so sorry, we’ve been so rude, what do you think?” She asks, and you can’t tell if she’s genuinely curious, or just hates you.

You stumble for a moment, then say, “I agree with Miguel.”

She laughs again. “You think Charles Darwin would be a good computer programmer?”

Miguel joins in, and for the first time ever his laughter sounds sour to your ears.

“Oh, um, no, I just—”

Xina smiles sympathetically at you, but it feels a bit patronizing. “It’s okay, not everyone can keep up with us.”

Okay, maybe running and hiding was a good idea.

“Y/N is actually top of her sorority for GPA, she’s read more books than anyone else I know, and she helps me write all my lab reports.” Miguel jumps in.

“That’s so cute.” Xina coos, looking at you as if you were a kindergartener presenting her with a crayon scribbled drawing.

You give her a tight smile, then squeeze Miguel’s bicep. “Hey, I’m gonna head to class, but I’ll see you later?”

He nods, and lets you go, reabsorbed in his conversation with Xina.

You toy with the bracelet Miguel got you as you sit at your desk, waiting for class to start. It’s a pretty thing, a birthday present, simple and elegant, highlighting your birthstone, the words, mi dulce, engraved on the inside in a small, flowy script. It jingles pleasantly as you mess with it, and glints under the florescent lights.

“The professor isn’t here yet, right?” Kelsey slides into her desk next to you and starts unpacking her bag.

“No, he’s running a little late.” You say, absentmindedly shading one corner of the blank page in your notebook with your pencil.

“Okay, good because I have something kinda fucked up to show you.” She says, pulling out her phone and scrolling until she finds what she’s looking for.

You lean towards her, the thought of gossip perking you up a bit.

“So, you know that Ava girl, the bitch who used to date your man?”

“I wish I didn’t, but yes.” You grumble, feeling that familiar gloom settle back over you.

“Okay well she’s been trying to get with this Kappa Sig, and you know how the brothers are like obsessed with me because my brother is their president and an absolute legend as they always remind me.”

“Yeah, it’s the reason we got into their parties freshman year.”

Kelsey’s brother was a decent guy, all things considered. Older than you two by a year or so, with the charisma of a cult leader but lacking the desire to start a cult. Throughly satisfied with his fraternity and the Fortune 500 company he’ll go on to work at once he graduates. He was nice enough, extending his protection to you and anyone else close to his sister while in the Kappa Sig house.

“So, one of them texted me about her trying to sleep her way through the frat, but then, my brother sent me this video. I gotta warn you, it’s not school appropriate.” She says as she slowly turns the screen towards you.

At first, you recoil. It’s Ava, half naked, and some guy, on a bed that looks vaguely familiar. The guy’s face is out of the frame, but he’s shirtless, his pants pushed down exposing his dick to the camera, Ava’s hand wrapped around it pumping furiously. “Um, what the fuck is this?”

“Just wait.” Kelsey says quietly, glancing around the room to make sure no one else is watching. They’re not, they’re too busy with their own phones or side conversations.

You half watch the video, feeling weird about watching, your idea of a good time isn’t watching your boyfriend’s psycho ex jack some guy off.

The guy finishes, his hips bucking and Ava saying something you can’t hear since Kelsey’s sound is off.

The camera shakes as Ava picks it up and shows off the face of the man. Dark hair, glazed brown eyes with hints of crimson, perfectly formed lips parted. You know that face, but you don’t want to accept it.

“Is that Miguel?” You’re horrified, sick to your stomach, head spinning, every unpleasant feeling and sensation you could feel erupting all at once.

You can see Ava go to grab his face, guide him lower, moving to take off her underwear, and you turn your head, unable to watch any longer.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know when it was filmed, but Darren said he had one of the brothers send it to him yesterday then made all of them delete the video from their phones. He knows Miguel’s your boyfriend, said he was just looking out for you.” Kelsey puts away her phone and looks at you, eyes searching your face, before giving you a one-armed hug. “I’m so sorry y/n, I can ask him to see if he can find out when it was filmed?”

You want to cry, you really, really want to cry. “It looks recent, that’s Miguel’s bed, I’ve been there, I’ve slept on that bed, I—I can’t think about this right now. Thank you for telling me, and tell your brother I said thanks too.”

Kelsey nods and squeezes you tighter before letting go and giving you a sad smile.

The professor finally shows up, and you throw yourself into your notetaking, graphite digging into the pristine white paper as you try to drown out the images in your head with the sound of your professor droning on.

Part 2 here!!!

TL: @bat-bae, @nyctophilic0vitnir, @smokeywhalee, @obi-mom-kenobi, @prowlingforfood, @penggion, @crystal-crax, @oharasfilipinawife, @generalkenobitrash, @melsimps, @chrishy973, @farrowroyale, @palesatan, @scaryplanetdestroyer, @denzmallows, @36namey, @scoobysnakz, @ihateuguys, @idkbros-world @smartyren, @deputy-videogamer, @blackrose8425, @amberpanda99, @marshhbs, @queerponcho

#meg's writing #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #nerd miguel #nerd!miguel #nerd!miguel o'hara #college!miguel #college!reader #college au #sorority!reader

239 notes · View notes