#yes ! finally! ive found my career path

[got7-l]

Me literally 3 days into the semester: do I really need a second degree. Am I actually passionate about urban planning and want a career in it or can I be happy working a "regular job" amd save myself the extra thousands of dollars of tuition. Or am I just overwhelmed.

will I ever actually be passionate about a career? It seems that as soon as something becomes work I lose my interest in it. Will I be better off getting any office job and using my money to pursue my passions outside of work?

I thought going back to school would be good, I'd be busy and have stuff to do etc but now the idea of going through years more of schooling seems incredibly daunting (and expensive). And I'm wondering if it's really worth it.

I wonder if I made the decision to go back to school simply because I was afraid of coming home from spain with no job or work prospects in line and felt that I absolutely needed something to do when I got back.

[goatpaste]

i'm curious, what's ur take on sadao? i thought it was really cool to see him in holly's backstory and he seems very nice!!! i know some ppl interpret him to have been an absent husband/father considering he isn't around in sdc but i feel like holly's family would kick his ass if he wasn't there for her. you mentioned they possibly divorced by the time of ur fan part so im just wondering, what do u think?

So yes its! A bit of a mix bag for me

On one hand when i first started jojos I defiantly leaned into absent father sadao who defiantly doesn't seem to be around for holly or jotaro. And I still think this is true. It's more or less true that due to his career he doesn't get to be around much. I don't think it's out of cruelty or purposeful neglect. But none the less he isn't around much and it does effect his relationship with his wife and son.

As iv been around others and found my own interpretation of sadao iv grown a soft spot for him.

So basically I imagine in my young teen years holly where her and sadao first meet in Italy their very friendly and get along great! He cares about her and they have a lil teen crush on one another. Going as fad as holly awkwardly giving him her ring of "marriage" token to him but never fully explains it and is too embarrassed to every let it be brought up again.

After the events of hollys Italian summer, holly and sadao would not meet for nearly 8-10 years. Holly would grow up, move out of the house and travel the world to try and find herself. Sadao would find himself moving up in his musical career and traveling the world. Holly and sadao would cross paths but never notice each other. But the one time sadao finally notices holly he can't let her go again. He's held onto that ring of hers and hasn't stopped thinking about the girl with the horns who risked her life to save then all those years ago in Italy. So he gets her attention and reminds her of who he is. They reconnect and begin dating.

The two get along great again, their best friends and she love getting to follow him and travel the world along side him as his career grows.

Then they have jotaro. Holly and sadao stay home. Living on his family estate with their money for awhile taking care of jotaro.

But then I imagine things just kinda. Change. Sadao struggles to be a father and doesn't handle it well, returning to his career and begins to tour around. He's home less and holly ends up staying home with jotaro. It's rocky, but she loves sadao and their still friends. But things change, holly and sadao love each other, they love jotaro, ect ect. But their life structure changed and sadao didn't know how to change with it,, and holly once again couldn't find the words to speak up and say what she felt.

Jotaro would grow up nearly without a father, very close to his mother feeling she's basically the only parent he has and the only one who understands him.

So when jotaros long been gone from the house living his own life and having his kid and such. Holly still stays home and is alone. She doesn't want to travel the world like they used to, she just wants sadao to be by her side. She knows what she wants but could never ask him to give up his career for her. They simply realized too late they wanted to lead different lives and loving each other wasn't enough to make everything they wanted to work, work. So instead of asking sadao to stay with her, she let him go.

This is roughly what I have in mind. May or not tweak and change it and I sit on it more. And I think their relationship is complex, their friends and love each other and their divorce came from issues that holly has that she would come to terms with and tackle as character growth in my fan part, represented by the growth of her stand in its acts.

But she gets the divorce and a year or some later she's set everything up to move back home to her family in New York to help them out with all the changes and things their adjusting to in their lives.

And again this is what I have in mind if I go with the divorce angle. I think I lean to divorce because then her and jotaro and br matchy lol

Or if not divorce maybe in the process of splitting up but not official and this is just Holly's break from sadao to get out of Japan and find what she truly wants in life and learning to stand up for herself and such.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

calculated iii, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: You wanted to say that you were able to control yourself around him and not to have wild sex at school. But this is Jeon Jungkook we’re talking about. And what Jungkook wants, Jungkook gets. You wore that pencil skirt for a reason, after all.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; intense smut (fem reader, semi-public sex, dirty talk, nipple play, choking, m-receiving oral, gagging, pussy spanking, fingering, penetrative sex); fluff; non-idol!AU - university!AU; dom!Jungkook x sub!noona!reader, ft Jimin once again, lol

–

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv

-

Career Week was somewhat of a nightmare.

So much running around, prepping tables, setting up presentations, helping the guests with their computers before their seminars, and you had to be dressed professionally too. Not just ‘nice’ clothes, but white dress shirt, slim black tie, tailored black vest, and matching fitted black slacks. It had to be monotone, it had to be hyper professional, and you had to wear heels.

Why had you agreed to this again?

Oh, yes, Kim Namjoon on his knees begging for help because he was overworked and they needed volunteers. And you, being far too responsible, accepted.

Not only were you also overworked, but Jeon Jungkook was staring at you across the auditorium.

In all-black – leather jacket, high-necked shirt, slim-fit jeans. Sharp jawline, tanned high cheekbones, piercing dark brown eyes, his black hair pushed back with a few strands on his forehead, revealing his clean undercut.

And he was smirking at you.

You highly doubted he was here to investigate prospective career paths. Actually, you were a hundred-and-ten percent positive that that was not the reason he was here and the soreness between your inner thighs proved it. You were willing to bet Park Jimin’s right nutsack.

Yeah, sorry Jimin, but you needed all your body parts.

For one reason, really, and that reason was staring you right now.

Who was going to hire him when he was dressed like that anyway? You certainly wouldn’t. Mostly because it was distracting. No one could work with Jeon Jungkook looking like that. You couldn’t, anyway. Well, maybe if his work was wrecking your–

Get back to your damn task, you scolded yourself.

You were setting up chairs for the cardiologist that was arriving soon. All the doctors always had tons of students listening, so the administration instructed you to pack as many seats that could be crammed into the space without causing a fire hazard. You unfolded the metal chairs, arranging them neatly, already knowing they would be an incomprehensible mess when the students left and that you would be the one cleaning up after them.

Sigh.

Come to think of it, it was all Park Jimin’s fault that you were being violently undressed by Jungkook’s eyes right now. If he had kept his trap shut and let you live in blissful ignorance, maybe you wouldn’t be trying to hide your wincing every time you bent over. You snuck a glance at Jungkook.

He cocked an eyebrow, highly amused.

Never mind, you probably still would have been accosted at Calculus I office hours, except instead of the door being closed and locked and having Jimin’s warning texts, you two probably would have been caught and expelled.

You grumbled and slid a chair into place, taking back your former thoughts and thanking Jimin in your mind. He wasn’t even here to witness your inner struggle.

Jimin probably would have found it funny.

You went back to your chairs, not addressing Jeon Jungkook’s presence anymore because if you looked at him again, you probably would have abandoned your post. And he knew it.

-

The next day, you already knew Jungkook would show up again. Mostly because he texted you a winking face of a semicolon and parenthesis, to which you didn’t respond, because you would probably get roped into phone sex in under twenty seconds, and you had to help this extremely riveting lawyer set up his laptop for the projector.

As in, you were ready to tape his mouth shut as he blabbed on and on about his work and how important it was to society, which it was, because defense attorneys were very important, but this guy’s laptop was a fucking hot mess of icons all over his desktop. This was a personal pet peeve of yours, as you liked to be neat and organized, with everything clearly labeled with dates. You didn’t care about most people’s personal habits, but it was annoying when you were trying to assist and the owner of said laptop was not shutting up and demanding noises of affirmation that you were listening.

If it wasn’t Jungkook demanding you to swallow his cock, you honestly couldn’t give a single shit–

You finally got his PowerPoint working and had him scroll through the slides to make sure it was the correct one. He thanked you and you realized the older man was looking at you up and down, the same way Jungkook usually did, except in this case you were not even remotely interested.

Guess everyone had the right to get a good look before they die.

You were wearing a white chiffon blouse with a black silk neck scarf, with a tight knee-length black pencil skirt, sheer tights and sleek black heels. You knew how good your ass looked in this skirt and you had worn it for a specific purpose.

“We will be letting the students in five minutes early to get settled,” you stated briskly, cutting the older man from his daydreams. “You will have forty-five minutes for your presentation, and then we’ll have a fifteen-minute question session, led by my associate, Kim Namjoon here.”

As if on cue, Namjoon appeared, cheerful smile with cute dimples, handing the lawyer a mic.

“Let’s test the microphone and the backup to make sure you don’t have any hiccups,” Namjoon instructed merrily, instantly captivating the man’s attention and diverting it from you.

You mouthed a ‘thank you’ behind the man’s back and Namjoon gave you the tiniest of nods as you excused yourself. Hmph. You knew people would notice – you were wearing makeup for once and would be around students and professionals all day, after all – but to be so shameless and gawk like that was annoying. Plus, the guy probably had a wife and kids.

You made your way to the bathroom to check your appearance. Maybe your makeup was a bit off or something. You had Jimin check you over this morning. Surprisingly, he knew a lot about cosmetics and how to look good in all lighting. Must be a dance major thing.

Ah, the door to the women’s bathroom. You hiked your skirt up a bit do you could use your damn knees to walk, because they had been suffocating for the past two hours–

Long fingers suddenly gripped your upper arm and yanked you around the corner, slamming you into a muscular body and black biker jacket. You nearly stumbled in your heels, but a second hand came to practically lift you off the floor and shove you into the wall.

“Good afternoon, noona.”

A clear, silvery voice.

You couldn’t possibly guess who it was.

“Why, fancy seeing you here, Jung–”

You were abruptly cut off by his lips crashing into yours, one hand grabbing the back of your head and disturbing your perfect bun. You whimpered, feeling him shove you into the wall again, your shoulder blades hitting the painted brick. His tongue slid into your mouth, exhaling into your throat and forcing you swallow his breath. Your hands clutched your skirt, moaning as his hard body pressed yours against the wall.

Jungkook drew back, panting a little. Looking so handsome with his slightly slicked-back hair, black strands around his right eye, chiseled jawline, silver hoops glinting in the hall light. He arched a sculpted eyebrow at you, smirking. His pink lips had a little red on them from kissing you.

“Now, you know you can’t be looking so delicious and not expect me to want to eat you up,” he purred, licking your lips. Your breathing hitched at the touch, unlocking your death grip on your skirt.

“What are you talking about?” you answered evenly despite your panties literally turning into Niagara Falls with the way he was looking at you like a carnivore at an all-meat buffet. “I have to dress like this for Career Week. Everyone has to dress professionally.”

Jungkook nodded, not believing a single word coming out of your mouth. His right hand came up, ink black tattoos against tan skin, and reached around to your bun, slowly pulling the hairpins out. Your skin tingled at the sensation of your hair gradually unravelling.

“A professional that I would hire to sit on my dick,” he mused.

You raised an eyebrow at him, your hair tumbling around your shoulders. “Subtle.”

Jungkook showed you the removed hairpins, opened his jacket, and tucked them in his inner pocket.

“I wouldn’t work for you anyway,” you added haughtily.

With each passing moment, Jungkook was becoming increasingly amused and aroused. You could tell by the way he was shoving his crotch into your thigh and by how wide his smirk was getting. The slacks he was wearing did nothing to hide his erection and you had a sneaking suspicion that he didn’t care.

“Oh? Why not?”

“I don’t know if I could trust someone younger than me to do a good job.”

He was unbuttoning your chiffon blouse now, humming. “I’m good at many things.” His dark eyes flickered to yours. “I think you would know.”

Your hands grabbed his despite him already having all the visible buttons completely open. Cold air drifted onto your heaving chest and white lace bra.

“Jungkook, we’re in a public place, again,” you hissed, narrowing your eyes at him.

“I don’t recall that being a problem,” he drawled, removing his hands from yours and squeezing your ass. “I’m beginning to think you like it.”

You sucked in a breath as his strong hands kneaded you through your skirt. Your hormones would absolutely let Jungkook rip off your clothes right here and let him fuck you, but the sliver of your brain that had any sense at all reminded you that you had to find a closed space. Jungkook slapped your ass, loudly, the sound echoing across the empty hallway. You nearly moaned, but bit your tongue, glaring at him.

“I have to get back,” you snapped. “And look presentable.”

Jungkook licked his teeth. “Hm. You have an hour before you have to appear to the public eye.”

Who the heck told him that? He smirked slyly at you as he saw your reaction.

“I could drag you to the bathroom–”

“At least give me more class than the woman’s bathroom,” you interrupted.

Jungkook looked annoyed that you had cut him off and also looked like he was going to remind you later. His fingers dug into your hips sharply and you gasped, back pressed flat against the wall. He inhaled a deep breath and began again, voice dangerously low.

“As I was saying,” he continued. “I’m going to take you into this classroom that I stole the key for.”

You frowned as Jungkook hoisted you up swiftly, princess-style, shirt still wide open. Fuck, what was he so strong for? He carried you down the hallway to the classrooms. You tried to close your shirt, but he growled at you, so you rolled your eyes and pushed the sides open, letting your bra-covered tits hang out. He seemed satisfied about this.

“Why would you steal a key?” you muttered as he deftly kicked the door open.

Jungkook slid through the door sideways. “So I could fuck you, of course.”

He dropped you and you had to catch yourself on your heels before you broke an ankle and ate shit. Half the lights turned on. You could hear him locking the door as you smoothed your skirt.

You turned to face him, saying, “You shouldn’t be a thief just because you’re horny, Jungkook.”

Jungkook turned around slowly from the now locked door. You were about to say something else, but your words died in your throat as you witnessed the overwhelming lust in his dark piercing eyes.

“I would be a thief, a murderer, and evade taxes for your body,” he snarled, advancing on you.

You pulled your blouse out of your skirt so he wouldn’t rip it, backing up into the desks. “You’ll get caught with the last one,” you said quietly, already removing your blouse and letting it fall onto a spare seat. “First two are acceptable.”

Jungkook grinned devilishly, licking his pink lips.

“Come here.”

You chewed on your lower lip, staring at his beautiful eyes, finding yourself already walking to him, heels clicking loudly in the empty room, but it didn’t matter, because he was the master now and you were the willing servant. Or slave. 

Take your pick.

He smirked at your obedience, placing his hands on your shoulders, stopping you. His dark orbs lingered down your body, focusing on all his favorite spots, pressing his fingertips into your skin.

“One day,” you said quietly. “We’re going to get in trouble.”

Jungkook’s powerful dark orbs shifted upwards, capturing yours. Time slowed down. You stared into his dark brown eyes, unable to look away, your heart beating in time with his words.

“You’re already in trouble.”

Voice haunting you, teasing smirk on his lips, and perfectly in command.

“From the second you let me have my hands on you.”

You gasped as his nails dug into your skin, scratching down your collarbones, leaving red marks. He snapped the straps of your bra, hard, and you whined, eyes pleading for him to take it off. His palms pressed into the lace cups, squeezing them roughly. Tongue dancing in between his lips as he felt your nipples harden, barely covered by the lace.

“You’re so dirty, noona,” he purred, lowering his palms and pinching your nipples through the thin fabric, smirking at your wanton moan. “Wearing such slutty underwear under these professional clothes.”

You whimpered as he tugged on them. “No one’s going to see them but you, Jungkook.”

He clamped your nipples between his thumbs and knuckles, dragging you to him. You sank your teeth into your lower lip, pussy throbbing as you collided with his firm chest. His breath was scorching hot against your skin, making you shiver.

“What if someone finds out? Some idiot like a perverted old man staring at your ass in this skirt?”

You snorted. “I’ll rip his head off.”

Jungkook snickered, flicking your nipples with your answer. “You wouldn’t let me do it for you?”

Your hips rolled into his, hands on his waist to keep yourself up as he played with you. “I’ll reattach it for you so you can do the same.”

He laughed, almost a little too jovially for the part he was playing, but then he was back, tipping his head close to yours, blowing soft air onto your lips. You frowned, glaring at him for the lack of kiss.

“If possible, you’re even hotter dressed like this,” Jungkook murmured, his forehead against yours. “So prim and proper, even with a cute gag tied around your neck,” he added, playing with the ends of your neck scarf. “You could be a CEO, and I could be the janitor fucking you on your penthouse-floor desk.” He was undoing your scarf now, teasing it apart, making you breathless. “Maybe fuck you against the window so everyone can see how good I make you feel, noona.”

“Give yourself a little more credit than a janitor,” you muttered, stiffening as Jungkook ran his fingertips over your throat, nails grazing your skin.

“True, I would rather be your secretary so I can follow you around and stare at your ass in this skirt,” he chuckled, lacing his fingers around your neck. Thumb under your ear, the other four fingers under your other ear. You made eye contact with him. He looked almost bored, one of his eyebrows raised, but he was watching you, predatory and attentive.

“I know what I’m doing.”

His whisper was so soft that you barely heard it, but the words were there.

His grip tightened around your throat.

You gasped, feeling the blood flow thinning, hazing your mind. Jungkook watched your expression, reaching around with the hand that was holding your scarf, unclasping your lace bra. You could feel it fall down your arms, but your thoughts were rapidly being clouded by lightheadedness and lust, Jungkook smirking at you as he lifted the silk scarf into your vision.

“J… Jungkook…” you choked out.

The mole underneath his lower lip winked at you as he grinned, brushing the silk against your hard, abused nipples, touch so light, and yet it made your whine, wanting more stimulation but unable to ask because you knew he was toying with you.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook taunted. “Not intense enough for my naughty noona?”

He choked you harder and you couldn’t respond, eyes rolling back into your head as black spots danced in your vision, the sensation intensifying but still not enough, not enough, and you shoved your hips into his repeatedly, whimpering, hands clutching his black shirt, nails digging into his abs.

“So needy for me,” he breathed, feathery touches of silk against your nipples. “Are you only mine?”

He leaned forward, loosening his grip a little. The blood violently rushed back into your head and all you could hear Jungkook’s cruel whisper of your name, tearing a moan from your lips, a raspy yes, yes, fuck, Jungkook, I’m only yours.

He chuckled darkly.

Then he forced you to your knees, tits bouncing uncomfortably as you slid on your heels, knees hitting the tile floor. You clutched his clothed legs, panting, brain only half-functioning due to the lack of blood and the relentless teasing. You lifted your head back up to look at him, panting hard.

Jungkook cracked his neck sharply, a harsh pop. “I want to believe you, noona, but you’re dressed so fucking sexy that I can’t.” His dark eyes bore into you, tearing you up, and you were dripping onto your inner thighs. He emphasized his words with a raise of his eyebrow.

“Letting other people fantasize about this body that belongs to me isn’t acceptable.”

His hands reached down, fingers of his right hand playing with the button of his pants, tattoos dancing with his movement. He smirked as you watched him, eyes darting from his face to his hands. Shit, you were nearly drooling with anticipation. You swallowed as he teased the button free.

“You gonna show me that you remember who you belong to?”

You nodded quickly, maybe too quickly, but it was doomed now anyway because Jungkook was lowering the zipper, pushing down his pants and underwear, past his muscular thighs. It was obvious this was getting him off as much as it was getting you off, because he was rock-hard, leaking, tip already a dark red. Jungkook grabbed the back of your head and shoved his hips into your cheek, smearing his pre-cum onto your skin, all the way up to your cheekbone. He hissed, using his hand to press the head against your temple, nearly into your hair.

Fuck, he was so fucking close to your mouth, but he wasn’t letting you have it.

Damnnit.

Your tongue snaked out and softly licked his balls, eyes on his face, watching him tip his head back and moan. You licked more, creeping your head closer, pressing your lips against his hot skin. He was letting you do it, holding his cock out of the way as you wrapped your lips around his balls and sucked, pushing them around with your tongue, pleading noises in your throat, begging him for his cock as you bobbed your head up and down under his hips.

Jungkook’s dark eyes shifted down to you, triumphant grin on his lips.

“You want to swallow my cock, noona?” he teased, smacking it against your face, leaving a string of pre-cum connecting your cheek to his cock. You narrowed your eyes at him, as if to say, no fucking shit, you punk ass bitch, and he chuckled deep in his chest. He looked past your head, down your back.

“Such a nice ass.”

You smacked his leg, aware that he was doing it on purpose to piss you off. He smirked knowingly, placing his palm on your forehead and pushing you off his balls.

“Swallow it all and don’t choke,” Jungkook snarled, shoving his cock into your open mouth.

Your eyes widened at the sudden intrusion, relaxing your throat muscles as Jungkook forcefully pushed into your lips, sighing with satisfaction as he buried himself to the hilt, his strong fingers tangled in your hair.

“Fuck, so good,” he moaned, making his cock throb into the roof of your mouth. You whined, hands on his hips, waiting for him to let you move. “Your throat feels so fucking good, noona. If only they knew how good you are, how perfectly slutty you are for me.” He snickered, releasing his hand, glaring down into your eyes.

“But they’re never going to know, because you’ll never service another cock ever again.”

You whimpered, nails digging into his thighs.

He ticked his chin at you. “Go on, noona. Show me how much you love my cock.”

You began to move, pressing your tongue against the bottom as you slid up and down his length, moaning at his taste. So good. You generated more saliva and ran it all over the head, sucking hard. He inhaled sharply as you teased the sensitive underside, tongue against the opening.

“That’s it,” Jungkook breathed. “Give it to me like you mean it.”

You gripped his thighs and began to bob your head back and forth, ramming the head into the back of your throat and squeezing it before arching your neck so it ran across the roof of your mouth and then back down so it hit your throat again. Was this going to make you hoarse? Probably, but you didn’t a single shit, because Jungkook moaning for you and telling you how good you were was much more important. The pace was slow at first, but you went faster and faster, tighter, your breasts bouncing with every movement, eyes closed to savor his taste and steel your concentration of not gagging because Jungkook was so big, so thick, so perfectly rough, and your tongue could feel him throbbing inside your mouth.

“Fuck,” he growled above you, nearly feral with desire. “Fuck, I’m going to cum down that perfect throat of yours, noona.”

His thighs tensed under your hands and you knew he was close. You increased the intensity, neck straining, already aching with how fast you were going.

“Drink it all and don’t fucking waste it.”

Jungkook grabbed you by your hair and thrusted his hips into your face, moaning lustfully as he shot into your mouth, hot creamy strings into your throat. You swallowed fast to avoid choking, gulping loudly as he gave you more, more, fuck it was so delicious that you gasped, swirling your tongue around his jerking cock and lapping it all up. Whimpering, you wrapped your lips around the head and milked it dry, rubbing your lips against the skin where the head and length connected.

“You’re so fucking good,” Jungkook sighed, running his fingers through your hair, pulling it away from your face. “So messy and dirty. I love it, noona.” He pressed your mouth down his entire length and held you there.

Your name drifted out of his lips, a sweet exhale.

He kept you there. You felt some of your spit drip down your chin and hit your breasts. You flinched at the coldness, still holding onto his hips. Jungkook finally looked down at you, chest heaving, panting. He looked like he wanted to say something. You shot him a questioning look, unable to respond, mouth still full of his cock.

He released your head, untangling his fingers from your hair. You drew your mouth back, rubbing your jaw and throat a little. Jungkook had a strange expression, lips parted, brows furrowed, the muscles in his neck tensed. He seemed a bit spaced out. You tilted your head.

Something felt off.

You stood up with as much grace as you could, knees aching, heels snapping to the tile floor. He still wasn’t looking at you. You backed up, to the desks, finding a study one.

“Jungkook.”

You smacked the wood loudly with your flat palm.

He whipped his head towards you, dark eyes flashing. Perfect. You smirked, placing your hands on your pencil skirt. Sank your fingers in, gripping the fabric. Jungkook’s voracious eyes watched your movement, each hike revealing more and more of your legs. A slow smirk formed on his lips. You yanked your skirt all the way up to your waist, revealing your white lace panties and sheer pantyhose, black fabric bunched around your waist.

Jungkook reached down and pulled his pants up, raising his eyebrows as he walked over, lower lip in between his teeth as he grinned at you.

“That’s a dangerous position to be in, noona,” he purred. “You know I love fucking you on a desk.”

You bounced your ass up onto the table, closing your legs, knees together. Placed your hands on your lap, pushing your tits together. Jungkook licked his lips, the predatory glint back in his eye. You kept your tone stern, with a hint if disapproval.

“Really? Because for a second there, I was beginning to think you lost your nerve.”

The menace in his eyes made your shiver with anticipation. You could tell Jungkook liked it too, your word selection, your tone, your defiance. He shrugged out of his leather jacket, and it fell to the floor with an oppressive thump. You sucked in a tight breath. The shirt was short sleeved, exposing his tattooed right forearm and his equally beautiful tanned left one. Some of his long black hair was falling down, brushing against his right cheekbone.

His eyes were so dark that you felt like they were devouring you.

Jungkook placed his large hands on your knees and vehemently shoved them apart, spreading your legs wide. He gave you a cold, expressionless stare as he placed a hand on your stomach, putting you onto your elbows, hips tipped up towards him. You were embarrassingly wet, juices soaked into your inner thighs, lace panties already molded to your soaked folds, the sheer pantyhose doing nothing to protect you from him and his hungry eyes. His voice was icy, making your pussy throb with need.

“Noona, if you close your legs, I’m going to punish you,” Jungkook warned.

Part of you wanted to know what the punishment was, but the other part of you really wanted to orgasm, so kept your snide remark to yourself and simply nodded.

Jungkook removed his hands from your knees and placed them on your shuddering breasts. Fuck. You hadn’t realized you were so horny until Jungkook touched you. A pained whimper strained in your throat.

The side of his lips curved upwards.

“Does my dirty, slutty noona want to be fucked?” His nails sank down, digging into your skin. “Do you want to be used by me, your tight little pussy stretched out and pleading for more?” Jungkook leaned forward, breathing into your face, growling whisper against your lips. He pinched your nipples and you moaned, wanting to kiss him, but knowing he wasn’t going to let you. He chuckled darkly, seeing your desperation.

“Do you want to be a slave for Jungkookie’s cock, noona?”

Fuuuuuuuck.

Your heart was beating so fast that your breathing was coming out in little gasps as he twisted your nipples harshly, rubbing the tips with his thumb. Your legs shook, threatening to close because the lack of friction was killing you.

“Y-yes, Jungkook, fuck yes.”

He yanked on your nipples and slapped them, making you hiss with pain, flinching as the sting shot up your chest. Jungkook reached into his back pocket and produced the silk neck scarf.

“Keep quiet for me noona or everyone will know how much of a slut you are for me.”

And then he shoved your own scarf into your parted lips, gagging you. Not a second too soon, because, without warning, Jungkook immediately spanked your barely clothed clit. You yelped around the silk, thighs quivering. He gripped one of your thighs, digging his nails into it, tearing the sheer pantyhose a little.

“Don’t move and take it,” he snarled.

Your back arched as Jungkook began to slap your pussy, hard, unforgiving, loud, and making you wetter and wetter, so much so his hand was slipping a little with each smack. You screamed around the scarf, hips trembling as they rose to meet each hit, flaring pain in between your thighs but so, so good. He clenched his jaw, dark eyes on your quickly reddening pussy lips that were sucking your panties deeper and deeper into your slit.

“Fuck,” he growled. “Fuck, you’re so hot and so fucking perfect for me.”

He removed his hand from your thigh and ripped the center seam of your pantyhose apart.

You started, eyes widening as you watched him tear through it, yelling at him through the scarf. You still needed to wear those! The small tears were one thing, but a full-on giant rip at the crotch was not going to be comfortable to wear for the rest of the day.

Jungkook smirked, raising a hand to his ear. “What’s that? Can’t hear you.”

You glared at him and was about to remove the scarf from your mouth to scold him, but his smirk turned into a roguish grin.

“Hm? Slap you harder and abuse your clit?”

You paled.

“My pleasure.”

You threw you head back as Jungkook mercilessly spanked your now only lace-covered clit, impossibly fast, towering over you and hooking his arm under your back, dragging you to him, arching your spine more, more, so your tits were straight up, bouncing right in his face as he changed from smacking your clit to rubbing it just as fast, rougher, so intense you were hoarsely wailing into the gag.

All of a sudden, your orgasm violently rammed into you, pleasure racking your entire body, amplified by stinging pain. Your pussy clenched around nothing, wetly squelching as Jungkook breathed hotly down on your nipples, still rubbing you through your orgasm, not letting up. You shook your head furiously, trying to tell him it was too much, that you were too sensitive, but you didn’t lift your hands to stop him, only spreading your fingers against the table, palms flat as your hips raised to his fingers.

You felt his hair brush against your nipples as he licked your cleavage, smirking up at your face.

“One more and then I’ll fuck you the way I want to, noona.”

Your legs were losing feeling from how hard you were locking them in place as you felt Jungkook pry your lace panties out of your pussy, shoving them to one side. Oh shit. You moaned as you felt him shove two fingers into you, eyes squeezing shut as he added a third, scissoring them as he smiled cruelly at you, eagerly watching your reaction.

“Such a greedy pussy, sucking in my fingers like this,” Jungkook drawled, your walls clenching around them, feeling every callus and every joint, all the way to his knuckles. “All mine, my beautiful, slutty noona.”

You would have asked Jungkook what the time was if your brain could still function, but your brain timed itself out, because Jungkook was thrusting his fingers into you now, filling you up, and feeding your need and desperation, assaulting your pussy with pleasure. The pain of your stinging, puffy lips rubbing against his hand added to the ecstasy, heightening it, your moaning now unintelligible behind the silk scarf that was saturated with your saliva. The sound was obscene, sloppy smacking sounds of your drenched hole getting pounded into the desk.

You threw your head back and choked out his name around the makeshift gag, throbbing pussy clamping down on his fingers. Thick, viscous liquid gushed out onto his palm, the back of his hand, dripping down to his wrist. It was so intense that your entire body jerked up into Jungkook’s face, hitting him with your tits.

If Jungkook was mad about it, he didn’t show it. He wrenched his slick fingers out and you whined, watching him with glazed eyes as licked them off, ferally growling at your taste. He released your back from his arm and you slid down, laying against the desk, panting.

“You taste extra delicious today, noona,” he chuckled. “Candy always tastes better in cute packaging.”

You barely had time to register that Jungkook had just compared you to a fucking convenience store snack before he yanked down his pants again, whipping out a foil packet and ripping it open. Less than a second and the condom was on, and then Jungkook shoved his cock into you, a startled gasp dying in your very over-used throat.

Jungkook moaned your name above you, softly and lustfully, pulling your hips closer to him so he was all the way inside you. You clenched around his length and he sighed, small smirk on his pink lips, eyelids fluttering.

“You’re going to kill me one day with how perfectly tight you are for me,” he mumbled.

Your eyes found his and he grinned, looking down at you through his lashes, his hair obscuring half his face.

Fuck, you could stare at him all day.

Jungkook placed your legs around his waist, finally letting them rest from the forced spreading. He roughly jerked his hips into yours and you whimpered, nails clawing into the desk. His fingers dug into your hips and he set his jaw, beginning a hard, fast pace, slapping your hips together, fucking you into the desk. It scraped noisily into the floor, but neither of you cared, you abused pussy lips rubbing against his crotch every time his hips met yours, carried to new heights of pain and pleasure, loving every second, every moment of Jungkook using you to chase his own orgasm, his cock swelling and dragging against your tight walls. So much. So full.

You could never be satisfied with another cock.

“Fuck.”

Jungkook hissed, grip on your hips tightening, bruising you with his fingertips.

“Fuck, noona, I love you.”

Your heart stopped.

And then your orgasm crashed down, overtaking you completely, your head smacking the desk and seeing stars, clenching around Jungkook’s cock and pulsating violently around his length, soaking his thighs with your juices, scent so strong you were sure whatever class that was going to use this lecture hall next was going to smell your cum splattering to the floor.

Jungkook gritted his teeth and rammed his hips into you, dragging you down to meet every thrust, intensifying your orgasm, ripping your pantyhose even more. Once, twice, three times, and he groaned, shuddering as he spilled into the condom, cock shivering inside you as he came. You could feel how much it was, pressing against your walls.

His long hair was all over his face, black strands clinging to his tan skin, sweat dripping off his chin, pink lips quivering, dark eyes roaming over your fucked-out form. Panting hard, matching your heavy, grating breaths behind your now saliva-drenched neck scarf. After a long moment, Jungkook reached down and held onto the condom, slowly pulling out of you.

Holy fuck.

Holy fuck.

You reached up with a shaking hand, pulling the silk out of your mouth. It came out in a long strip of fabric, smacking against your cheek as your removed it from your lips.

Holy.

Fuck.

You sat up, your body screaming at you, seeing Jungkook breathing hard, tying up the condom.

“Did you just tell me you love me?”

Jungkook’s ears turned bright red. He chewed on his lip, biting it hard before facing you. Dark brown eyes suddenly vulnerable, scared. It was the most uncharacteristic expression you had ever witnessed on Jeon Jungkook’s chiseled, handsome face.

“Uh… yeah.”

There was a moment where you realized both you two were mostly naked in a random classroom, clothes thrown everywhere, having made a mess once again.

“Sorry,” Jungkook added quickly. “It slipped out.”

You blinked at him. “Why are you apologizing?”

He rubbed his nose, looking away.

“Well… aren’t you just fucking me because you like to be dominated?”

You frowned. “No, I’m fucking you because I’m in love with you.”

You saw Jungkook freeze. He turned his head robotically, eyes wide and doe-like. “R-really?”

You looked down to notice that your heels were on the tile floor. When had you lost those? You grumbled, trying to straighten out your panties and the remains of your pantyhose. It was doomed. You shrugged, dangling your legs over the edge of the desk as you looked back at Jungkook and his surprised expression. You raised an eyebrow.

“Are you really that much of an idiot?” you muttered, your own cheeks burning, letting out a puff of annoyed air. “Yes, I love you. Why else would I tolerate you staring at me like I’m some kind of zoo animal? Why else would I risk getting in trouble by running around like this? Why else would I let you fuck me at school, in the middle of the damn day, again?”

Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck. “Erm… because I’m hot?”

You rubbed your forehead and sighed exasperatedly, standing up, instantly wincing. Jungkook took a step forward to catch you, but he almost tripped on his pants down his ankles. You caught yourself against the desk and raised a hand, shaking your head.

“Pack your damn dick,” you muttered. You yanked your tights down your legs, removing them and balling them up. They were useless now anyway. You found your bra and put it back on as you eyed your chiffon blouse. Good thing it wasn’t ripped. It only took you a moment to slip it back on, rebuttoning it and tucking it into your skirt. You pulled your pencil skirt back down, straightening it, thighs immediately sticking together from your own fluids.

Yup, still no more comfortable than yanking your pants back on after a session with Jungkook.

You noticed him putting his leather jacket back on and picking up the condom wrapper. He took the silk scarf from the table and shoved it in his back pocket. You went back to him to gather your shoes, but he knelt down, holding out your black heels as if you were Cinderella.

“I can just–”

“Step.”

His tone was sharp and you immediately obeyed, raising your foot and stepping into your shoe. First one, then the other. Jungkook stood back up, exhaling a little. You looked up at him. His chocolate eyes flitted about tensely. He opened his mouth to speak.

“Do you… uh…”

You cut him off. “Jungkook, if you cheat on me, I will personally castrate you with a spoon.”

He cringed. “Ouch.”

You took the used condom and the wrapper bits from him, shoving them into your balled-up pantyhose. You marched towards the door confidently, pain shooting throughout your body with every step. Jungkook called after you.

“Your hairpins.”

You turned your head back a little.

“You can drop them off at my apartment later.”

And then you unlocked the door and stepped out of the classroom.

Park Jimin waved at you, grinning. Plump lips curved into a mischievous smile, wearing a denim jacket and jeans. You almost jumped seeing him standing there. What the fuck is with this guy’s timing? He eyed your hand holding your ruined pantyhose and you put it behind your back, glaring at him.

“I told Namjoon you had a lady emergency.” Jimin wiggled his eyebrows at you before holding up your phone and black purse, the belongings you had left in the back room. “You took longer than you should have.”

You felt your ears burn. “Shit. I need to get back.”

“To Jungkook, yeah,” Jimin chimed teasingly, making you glower at him.

Of course. Jungkook had turned Jimin into his scout for your escapades. Fantastic. You suddenly felt a strong presence behind you. The door had opened and Jungkook’s arm snaked around your waist, yanking you possessively to his side. He placed his chin on top of your head, inhaling the scent of your hair.

“You wanna go on a date, noona?” Jungkook purred, his free hand playing with the ends of your disheveled hair.

You pursed your lips. “I have to get back and help Namjoon.”

Jimin waved a hand. “He’ll be fine for one day. Plus, you’re being kidnapped.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Jungkook slapped his hand over your lips, marching you in the opposite direction of Career Week, Jimin skipping behind you two, cheerfully humming.

-

part iv

--

masterpost

[hualianff]

More Than This IV 《III》

(Minor NSFW/Consensual somnophilia)

The first thing HC wakes up to is the default tune of an alarm ringing from the nightstand. A quick look at the clock next to a charging phone signals it is five in the morning.

HC groans in irritation.

The second thing HC notices is that his calves feel like they’ve shriveled up and pulled taut at the same time. The unyielding soreness is something he has grown used to after tagging along on various hikes.

XL claimed the hike yesterday would not be too strenuous. Yet, here HC is, rendered immobile considering his calves, entire leg length, and glutes are beyond sore after the four-hour-long activity. HC supposes he has XL to thank for working out his lower body, as his personal trainer and he have prioritized the upper body (read: arms, chest, abdomen, back) aesthetics for his career.

The culprit currently lays next to HC, oblivious to the obnoxious alarm, fast asleep.

The blessing of being able to wake up next to XL is not lost on HC. He remembers with a grimace how their casual relationship limited their passionate nights to rushed clean-ups and parting ways before dawn.

But things are different now. Their five month anniversary is coming up along with HC’s birthday. Ever since that night when both of them finally revealed their feelings, HC has found himself continuing to fall for the person XL is. To be frank, HC doesn’t want to stop.

XL’s lax form sprawls in the middle of the bed, his face turned away as it’s smushed into the pillow. The light blanket they use covers him from the shoulder down, but it looks close to slipping down.

XL looks very comfortable and content.

HC shakes his head in fondness. His boyfriend is known to sleep through his alarms. Hence the six consecutive alarms set minutes after the initial one—which HC will jolt awake from whenever he sleeps over. HC has heard enough alarm ringtones in his time to be incredibly conscious of them even while asleep.

HC briefly stretches his arms and withering legs in an attempt to wake himself up enough to turn the ringing off. He does this in addition to switching off the rest of the alarms. After rubbing the sleepiness out of his aching eyes, HC gazes to where XL still lies in peaceful slumber.

He scoots forward until he hovers behind his boyfriend, carefully placing his head on the end of the XL’s pillow. The fresh scent of citrus and vanilla fills HC’s nostrils. It’s partially from XL’s body wash, partially from his natural scent.

HC wouldn’t mind waking up to this scent every day for the rest of his life.

With a cheeky hum, HC figures they could afford an hour or so to themselves this morning. XL is even more pliant and malleable in HC’s hands when sleeping. Recalling their previous conversations about boundaries—the do’s and don’t s—HC plans to wake his boyfriend up with a pleasant surprise.

HC starts by running his fingers through XL’s silky hair. He follows the strands as they stream down XL’s face and fan out down his mid-back. XL doesn’t show any bodily reactions, his breaths still even.

Using one hand to delicately brush XL’s hair away from his nape, HC leans forward to kiss the warm skin. He presses multiple soft kisses against the area, letting his lips linger with each one. HC then trails down to the top-notch of XL’s spine. The scent of oranges is strong here. HC’s tongue pokes out to swipe across the knob before continuing on his path.

He moves down XL’s body, taking the cover off as he goes. Goosebumps rise where HC’s lips skim across pale skin. In his sleep, XL lets out a breathy sigh, nuzzling his pillow as his body naturally angles itself toward HC.

“Gege seems to be resting well,” HC murmurs quietly, more so to himself than to his boyfriend. He doesn’t intend to wake XL up just yet. HC goes to press one last kiss behind XL’s ear before sucking on the lobe. “I may just have a small taste, if Gege doesn’t mind...”

Minutes later, XL wakes up with a gasp to an all-encompassing heat trapping his hardening length. He gasps in surprise, a tingling pleasure making his hips twitch as they’re held down by firm hands.

“San L-lang-!?” XL cries out, attempting to sit up.

HC hums in response, hollowing his cheeks and sliding down lower with a slick sound. Electrifying vibrations thrum through XL’s disoriented body. HC begins moving up and down in fluid motions aided by a mix of precome and spit. XL, overwhelmed in the best way possible, can do nothing but fall back onto the mattress, hands grasping his boyfriend’s hair and pulling as his release builds.

“O-ohhh, yes- hmm!” XL groans. HC gives a particular hard suck at XL’s tip while massaging the base of XL’s cock. “I’m gonna- I’m gonna-”

XL’s thighs begin to twitch, prompting HC to double his efforts to send XL over the edge. XL whimpers high-pitched as his climax washes over him like the tides kiss the beachside. Below, HC gently strokes XL’s shuddering hips as he eagerly (and noisily, much to XL’s embarrassment) swallows XL’s release.

It’s not the most intense orgasm XL has ever had, but it was no less euphoric. The way HC kisses his way back up XL’s body before resting his weight on top, propping his chin on XL’s sternum proves this. There is nothing better than waking up to his boyfriend and his neverending morning surprises.

It simply means another day XL gets to be HC’s. And HC XL’s.

“Well, good morning to you,” XL says, still a bit breathless. HC licks his lips, fittingly the cat that got the cream. XL blushes at the image.

“It certainly is. Today is a big day, after all.”

“Oh? San Lang can’t wait to show his boyfriend off to the world?”

“Can’t wait to show you off to the world, yes,” HC agrees with a tender kiss where XL’s heart is. His steady gaze never strays from XL’s face. A few strips of sunlight stream through the blinds, highlighting the maple-red hue of HC’s left eye. “Soon, everybody will know just who I belong to.”

“San Lang, don’t say it like that...” XL says, cheeks reddening as he tears his eyes away from HC’s smug expression. HC chuckles light-heartedly.

“Say it like what? It’s true, is it not?”

“You make it sound like I own you or something.”

“Gege does own me. Meaning he’s entitled to my heart. My time. My affection. My love,” HC turns to brush his cheek against the smooth skin of XL’s pectoral. “My body-”

“You!” XL lightly flicks HC’s forehead. “So shameless!”

“Gege likes it when I’m shameless. In the past, I seem to recall it turns him on-”

XL jumps when a flat, wet tongue drags across his right nipple.

With a determined huff, XL secures his thighs around HC’s middle, then twists his pelvis to flip them over. XL wiggles down until he’s situated on HC’s lap, ignoring the way HC’s semi-hard cock nestles between his legs.

When HC attempts to sit up, arms going to wrap around XL’s waist, XL pushes HC back down with hands pinning his shoulders.

“Since San Lang insists his body belongs to me, I suppose I should take care of what’s mine.”

HC’s eyes widen in surprise, frozen for a split second. Then, his body relaxes underneath XL.

“Gege,” he pleads.

XL spares a glance at the clock on the nightstand. He calculates that they have a little less than an hour before their appointment with SQX to prepare for the red carpet tonight–an award show for cinematic media.

It’s just enough time to sneak in a couple more morning festivities.

As XL leans down to press a teasing kiss on the corner of HC’s mouth, he vaguely remembers HC’s refrigerator barely has any food due to his busy schedule and frequent stays at XL’s apartment.

It seems that they will have to resort to having each other for breakfast.

Neither of them mind.

《V》

[thadelightfulone]

The Firm - Chapter 10

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9

Summary: Erik has been hired to find an embezzler for an old friend. The whole gang is back at GBI, working to take down an old enemy. 

Pairing: Erik x Black!OC

Genre: Suspense

Words: 6K

CW: Implied Sexual Assault - no details

— Two Days Earlier —

Darkness greets LaNyah as she opens her eyes. There is a small window up high, casting light down into the room. A wave of nausea passes over her as she sits up, she blinks her eyes to adjust to her surroundings. There is soft and comfortable padding underneath her, she figures it is a bed, so at least she is not on some cold hard floor. Shifting the blanket that was over her, she sees her favorite blue Squirtle shirt paired with light blue denim capri pants and all-white low top Vans. The outfit she wore when she was shopping on Saturday before she was kidnapped.

LaNyah inhales deeply before bursting into tears. “Kidnapped! Oh my god, I have been kidnapped.” She lifts her hands to wipe away her tears, but feels a slight sting as she moves, she looks down to find an IV in her arm. “What the hell is going on?” She quietly whispers to herself as her tears silently fall down her face.

Looking around the space, it seems someone changed the small area into a makeshift cell. LaNyah places her hands against the walls, the feel of hard rock greets her. It would be pointless to scream, her voice will not penetrate the concrete. She starts crying again, feeling hopelessness take over, her cries echoing off the walls. LaNyah has no idea of how long she has been out or even what day it is. Bringing her legs to her chest, she curls into herself. Suddenly, the sound of steps outside the door to her small room, stop her sniffling. She lays back down, covers herself back up, and fakes sleep when she hears the doorknob turn.

“Shouldn’t she be awake by now?” A male voice asks. She hears more footsteps enter the space then stop. They are across the room. They must be looking down at her from the staircase by the door.

“Even if she isn’t, we need to move her before the boss arrives.” Another male voice, “Wake her ass up.” She hears the steps of the two men getting closer to her. LaNyah silently prays until one of the men grabbed her arm. She reaches out and scratches the closest one.

LaNyah screams, “GET OFF OF ME!!!” Continuing to claw at both men when they try to grab hold of her. She kicks one of them hard in the chest, stunning him for a moment.  

“Stupid bitch!” He stumbles back, catching his balance before yelling out, “Hit the damn button. I am not getting paid enough for this shit.”

LaNyah looks around trying to figure out what button he is referring to, she sees it and tries to move the machine away but is too late. The other guy grabs the pole and hits the button on the IV pump before she can tear the needle from her arm. The machine whirrs to life, and LaNyah watches as the asshole she kicked waves to her and fakes sleep. She sticks her middle finger up as the sedative rapidly enters her bloodstream, barely hearing the men laugh when her body tumbles to the right and off the bed. She tries to brace herself for the fall, but her arms crumble under her weight, and her head hits the ground as she ultimately passes out.

They watch her for a few minutes to make sure she is under, not taking any chances of another attack. “Pick her up. I got the machine.” LaNyah is transported out of the small room and down the hall to another in the basement.

“Where are we putting her?” He looks around the much larger, already occupied space.

“Drop that bitch on the couch.” The one holding LaNyah lays her on the couch. The second one grabs her arm, carelessly yanking the IV needle from it. “She won’t be needing this anymore.” He drops everything in a biohazard bag and seals it up, “Let’s go. I do not want to be here when the boss comes.”

The two henchmen make their way out of the room. Another set of eyes land on LaNyah, sitting up on their bed. Making their way to the couch, they look at her, grumbling, “So, this is her?”

— Present Day: Tuesday Morning —

Ashley and Stacey are now sitting in the conference room, trying to figure out Gina’s next move. They are both tapping away at their laptops, working in companionable silence. Stacey stares at her cell phone, willing it to ring. Ashley follows her eyes.

“You know that is the 5th time that you have looked at your phone in the last half hour.”

“I can’t help it. Even though we haven’t been friends for long, we talked every day.” Rubbing her shoulders, she looks over at Ashley, “This is so not like her. I could set my watch to her 90% of the time. I’m worried about her, Ash.”

“I understand I really do, but maybe she really needs this time for herself. LaNyah hadn’t called me in about 3 months before Erik showed up. Big and abrupt changes still shake her, but from what you told me, she is finding her way and trying to do a lot of the work on her own. She knows when to reach out if it becomes too much for her.” Ashley smiles brightly. “My little bird is finally learning how to use her wings.”

"Yeah, she is. She told me that if she has to work directly with Erik after all that has happened, then she wanted some time. I just figured Sunday would be enough and that she would be in on Monday like she promised.

“She needs the time to reconcile her feelings for him in order to be around him. That makes sense.” Ashley takes a sip of her tea, “Does LaNyah know that Erik likes her?”

“HA!” Stacey responds, shaking her head with an amused laugh. “No, I had to drag it out of him. But I saw it long before he did. Shoot, I had to point out that she had a crush on him. He acted like he couldn’t tell.” She looks into the office where Erik and Green are talking. “A man like that oblivious to a woman checking him out? I call bullshit.”

Ashley smirks, “No, no that’s him. It’s not obliviousness, so much as willful ignorance.” Stacey laughs, “It’s true. You see him, he grew his hair out and is much bigger, but other than that, ain’t shit changed. Erik knows when he is being gawked at, but because he has never been the relationship type -” she gestures, “Well, to my knowledge and how he was way back when. I can see how he would still have his blinders up.”

“Ashley, Nyah had a mid-meeting daydream about him.” Ashley chokes on her tea, eyes widening over the cup. “Yes, he called me in because she was non-responsive. She looked really peaceful then something jolted her out of her fantasy, she got embarrassed and wouldn’t make eye contact with him any longer that day.”

Ashley places her tea back on the table, “Erik knew then.” She nods, “But like I said, and you have found out, he is the king of compartmentalizing things. He clearly decided to take the nonchalant path when it comes to LaNyah.”

Stacey hums in agreement, “I said something about him being in trouble, and he laughed it off.”

“Oh, that’s because he had his defenses up. There was no way Erik ever thought his attraction to her could prevent him from doing any part of his job. Until it did.” Ashley looks at her watch, “You said she should be up around 11, right?”

“Yeah, after her team meeting.” Stacey down looks at her phone. “Do you think we should tell her?”

“About how Erik feels?” Stacey nods in response. “No, her feelings about him are already a lot for her. I think that his actions not matching his feelings would further confuse her. We know Erik betrayed Nyah’s trust to save himself, but I don’t think she would understand that. It might hurt more to know he willingly did that.”

“Yeah, and Erik already has a lot to deal with since he will be watching her day and night. Nyah just thought she would have to work with him again, not be babysat by a man she will have to learn to trust again.”

They both quietly ponder the conversation before letting it fade away and returning to their previous tasks. Ashley pulls up the top right screen for the account information. The lights are still bouncing around as small amounts of the more substantial money grab dipped in and out of Gina’s dummy accounts.

Ashley and Stacey work independently at the table for more than an hour. Ashley researching more information on Gina and Stacey following the military trail. Ashley stands to stretch before heading to the bathroom. She lets Stacey know that she has something to share.

When she returns, Stacey gets up to walk the room while Ashley shares what she has found. “Gina married Greg right after she graduated from college. They were together for 15 years and with his resources, who knows what she has been able to discover for her plan. She inherited everything. She provides for her nieces and nephew, but does not have any children of her own.”

“She met a man who could fund her revenge.” Ashley silently nods at Stacey’s remark. Stacey moves back to the table, running something from the conference room computer. The screen pulls up some military files for their special ops team. Continuing, Stacey looks at the images on the wall screen, “Following the trail, she must have used; we can see your name on the file from the incident. She was able to follow your career and who was on the team.” Stacey squints at the screen. “Ashley…”

Ashley looks up at the wall, blinking at the mess of reports on the screen. Two papers standing out to her. She shakes her head as she accepts what it means, "Oh no.”

“Yeah, I think we need to tell the guys.”  They both sigh deeply, taking in the new information.

“We already know why she is after me, but what about everyone else?” Ashley thinks aloud while tapping away at her laptop.

Stacey is standing by the windows, looking out over downtown Irvine, “Everything you have.” Turning back to Ashley, “She obviously feels like you are the reason her twin brother is dead. She wants everything that you care about to crash and burn while you watch. Why not your husband’s company?”

“GBI, sure. You ruin my husband and his company, then you hit me. I understand that, but” pointing at the screen, “that does not look like she is coming for only Alex and me.”

“Yeah, I know.” The two women share a knowing look.

— Meanwhile in Green’s Office —

“So, she got you too, huh?” Alex cuts to the chase. Erik takes a seat but says nothing, “It’s ok. LaNyah has that effect on everyone.”

“Yeah, but I’m not everyone.”

Alex rolls his eyes as he stands in front of his desk. “Stacey is right, you know.” Erik looks up at him, “You can care about someone and protect them at the same time. To me, those go hand in hand.”

“I have never seen that.” Alex waves his hands, “Ok, but you and Ashley are different; you were already attracted to her when that happened,” Erik closes his eyes as recognition dawns on him, recalling the discussion from the day before. “Yeah ok, I see what you mean.”

“I get that this is new for you, and you are feeling like a fish out of water, but is it really a bad thing to care for someone? To want someone? I mean, aren’t you tired of being alone?”

“What does being alone have to do with anything?”

“Erik, do you know why Ashley was worried when she discovered LaNyah’s interest in you?”

Erik acting unbothered answers, “Based on her assumption that I slept with Stacey, could it be my track record with women?”

“Yes and no.” Erik scoffs at him, “Can you blame her? If we even saw you with someone, we knew not to remember her face or her name. No use if you know that you will never see them again.”

"Ok, ok, point made. But why no?” Erik gestured for him to continue.

“Her first concern is LaNyah’s well-being. After everything Ashley went through pulling herself together, only to find out children were no longer an option for her; she threw herself into school and work. Ashley needed to find an outlet for what she was feeling and all the love she has to give. It speaks through her work. Having a case like LaNyah’s land on her desk was kismet.” Erik has been nodding his head in understanding while Alex explained, but he shuddered and took a deep breath, realizing the turn this conversation was about to take. “That college party broke her, Erik. If you thought what LaNyah had been through up to that point was bad,” Alex shakes his head, blinking back tears, voice breaking, “She almost didn’t make it.”

Erik releases the breath he had been holding. Jaw clenched, balled up fists by his side, and through gritted teeth, “So, you know about that?”

“Yes, and Ashley knew you would discover it as well. Look at the business you are in; you know what to look for and how to get it. There is no way you did not complete a deep dive when you looked into her background.”

Erik stands, releasing the tension from his body. He starts to pace the area in front of Alex’s desk, “Ashley saw herself in LaNyah.”

Alex leans back on his desk and nods. “The same way, you and I gravitated to Ashley and treated her like family, naturally protective of her. Essentially, LaNyah became our daughter as soon as she finished the program.”

Erik walks back towards Alex, “So, you understand then.” Alex shrugs, “Even with my attraction to her, I can’t get involved.” He rushes out.

“Says who? Did Ashley and I say anything about it?” Alex eyes Erik, who stopped suddenly, “Hell, does LaNyah even know? Because Stacey clearly could tell, and she saw it from both sides.”

Erik looks away from Alex, “No, she hasn’t said ‘Boo’ to me since the day she threw me out of her office.”

“How bad was it?”

“She walked to her door, opened it, and yelled for me to get out. When I made it to the door and reached for her, she flinched. She had tears in her eyes as she quietly asked me to go, and then slammed the door shut as soon as I was on the other side.” Erik huffs, “Total silence ever since. I am a non-entity even when we are in the same room.”

“Well, Mr. Bodyguard. It is time for you two to start speaking again since we need to keep LaNyah safe.”

Not paying attention to Alex’s comment, Erik carries on, “You know Stacey asked me if I wasn’t making a move on LaNyah because of what she has been through.”

“And?”

“It’s not that; it was never that. I don’t look at LaNyah like she is damaged goods. She was dealt a bad hand and encountered more than her fair share of monsters along the way.” With a pained expression and slow stride, he makes his way to the windows. "Once, she opens up, and you really see her. She shines so brightly like you can’t miss that shit. LaNyah doesn’t need someone who can easily remind her of her monsters.”

“You and Ashley, I swear.” Alex laughs. “You don’t know what LaNyah does or doesn’t need. What she is strong enough to handle now.” He claps Erik on the back, standing next to him in front of the windows. “You know why, because LaNyah doesn’t even know that yet. This is the farthest out of her comfort zone and routine she has ever been.” Erik abruptly jerks out of Alex’s hand.

“That’s it!” Erik rushes out of the office and into the conference room, breaking Ashley and Stacey from their thoughts. When Alex makes it out of his office, he starts talking. “You told me that LaNyah follows a routine. Clearly, not just with work but home and any other activities.”

“Sure, she does. It gives her control.” Ashley says.

“Where was she when you called her on Saturday, Stacey?”

“She was in the midst of her weekly shopping. There are like three different stores she goes to for different items.”

“Does she go to them at the same time and in the same order every week?”

“I think so. Why? What are you getting at?” Stacey inquires.

They all watch as Erik pulls Ashley’s laptop towards him and starts typing away.

He throws his search up on the screen. Ashley leans into Alex. “What were you two talking about in there?”

“LaNyah and feelings. I know he is worried about her. She hasn’t said a word to him since the ‘interrogation’ in her office.” He whispers to her.  

“Still convinced that there is no one in the world out there for him?” Alex nodded her way. “I would approve.”

After a quick coughing fit, he looks at her, “Really?”

“Yeah, LaNyah deserves what we have, and well, why not him?” Ashley shrugs. “We know that he is capable of caring for someone beyond thinking of it as part of his job.”

Stacey chuckles, having heard the whole exchange. “Now, someone tell him that.” She points at the man in question. They all smile until they see Erik frowning at the screen.

Erik traces his fingers along a path on the wall and stops on a grayed out box, “Something’s wrong here.” He steps back to let them read the information as he heads for the door, “I gotta go!”

—

Erik pulls up in front of LaNyah’s apartment building. He walks through the parking lot and looks over the covered spaces for her car. He doesn’t see it anywhere and rounds the building to the front. Taking the stairs 2 at a time, he reaches the 3rd floor. Standing in front of 3F, he knocks loudly. Yelling her name, hoping she would answer the door. He tries to call her phone, listen for any ringing in the apartment. Nothing. He reaches for his lock pick set when he hears the door behind him open.

"Excuse me, what are you doing?” Erik turns around to see a young black woman holding a baby on her hip, standing in the doorway.

“I’m sorry, did I wake him?” He looks down at the little boy who was yawning and rubbing his eyes due to the harsh hallway lighting.

“No, but why are you screaming at her door? Who are you?” She steps outside to get a better look at him. Erik is dressed in some black slacks, a gray polo shirt, and black driving loafers. He relaxes his stance and shakes his head as he watches her pupils dilate while looking him over. She smiles up at him when she finally makes it back to his face.

He rolls his eyes and exhales quietly, trying to remain calm. “I’m Erik. A work friend of LaNyah’s. Have you seen her?”

She walks closer, holding her hand out to him, “Hi Erik, I’m Tiffany.” He acknowledges her but doesn’t take her hand. Tiffany drops her hand, scoffing at his expectant look.

They both turn when they hear someone coming down the hall. Erik steps back, leaning on the door to LaNyah’s apartment. It is an older man who looks between Tiffany and Erik.

“Young lady, don’t you already have a man?” He points to the little one in her arms. A choking sound comes from behind him, but he keeps looking at Tiffany.

“Man, Mr. Maxwell. Mind your business.” She waves him away, moving her baby to her other hip.

“I would if your business was conducted behind closed doors, Tiffany.” Erik puts his fist up to cover his laughter. Mr. Maxwell swiftly turns to face Erik. “And you boy, ain’t you got some business anywhere but here?”

Erik moves away from the door, straightening up to his full height. “My business is here, sir. I am looking for the woman who lives in this apartment.” He points behind him.

“Oh, Miss LaNyah?” Erik nods, “You know what?” He scratches at his greying beard. “Now that I think about it, I haven’t seen her since Saturday morning. I passed her before she left to run her errands. I usually see her on Sunday for Wash Day, too, but not this week.”

Erik clasps his hands together in front of him. “Tiffany?”

“No, I haven’t seen her since Friday night when she came home from work.” Erik’s face falls, Tiffany and Mr. Maxwell watch him. “Is everything ok? Where’s LaNyah?”

"I don’t know, but I will find out.” He starts making his way down the hall, facing them, “Thank you for your help.” Erik turns around and runs towards the stairs.

—

Alex is standing near the screen while Ashley and Stacey are huddled together in front of a laptop when Erik bursts into the conference room.

“We were too late!” Everyone watches as he slams his hands on the table. “FUCK!”

Ashley’s voice falters, “Erik, what are you talking about?”

“She’s gone.” He looks up at them with a distressed air. “LaNyah is gone,” Ashley screams, and Stacey pulls her into a hug. “No one has seen her since Saturday.” He walks to the screen and points at the spot he noticed before leaving. “Her phone signal dies here mid-day Saturday. Probably not too long after she spoke with Stacey.”

Alex looks at the distraught women, “Erik, I need you to calm down and listen. There is more.”

He turns on Alex, and impatiently asks, “What do you mean, more?”

Stacey speaks up from where she is holding Ashley, “We did more searching this morning and found Gina’s hit list.”

“Hit List?” He rubs his temples, “Is she going after the whole team?”

“That’s the thing. The list only has three names on it.” Alex pulls up another screen. Erik quickly surveys the documents on the screen.

“When did she pull these documents up?” Erik flops down into the nearest chair. “Do we have a date on her search?”

“Three weeks ago.” Stacey releases Ashley while Alex takes her place, holding her. “She has taken out at least 7 of her own people over the last two years, tracking down all this information.”

“We discovered that she was able to find every member of our team except one.” Ashley softly interjects, “Until now.” She looks over to him. “I’m so sorry, Erik.”

He waves away Ashley’s concern. “How did she manage to get unredacted copies of these files?” He enlarges one of the reports. “This clearance to access these goes all the way to the top.”

“Somebody either gave her their login information, or she is paying out the ass for it. Either way, you were added to the list, so she must have figured out you were the missing team member.” Alex states.

“Who is Killmonger? He sounds scary as hell.” Stacey looks back at them as they all avoid her stare. She points to the report. "It says he single-handedly took out 5 men who were trying to ambush one of his teams.”

“Stacey, drop it.” Ashley pleads with her. “We should focus on finding Nyah.”

“Come on. You guys obviously know him.”

“Stacey!”

"What? I mean, with skills like his, we should reach out to him to help us find LaNyah and get rid of the vengeful bitch.”

Alex stifles a laugh while Ashley punches him. "She does have a point.” Stacey looks over to Erik, who has his back to them, intensely staring at the screen.

“Erik?” He doesn’t respond. Instead, he stands up stoically and slowly turns around. He appears bigger and taller, his eyes darkened, and his energy is threatening, murderous even. He looks at Ashley and Alex. They nod their heads in understanding.  

Sternly, he starts making commands of everyone. “Bridges, I need you to look for any properties that Gina owns. Green, follow me. There is someone we need to speak with downstairs.” Ashley pulls her laptop across the table, Alex stands up and walks to Erik while Stacey pops up, ready to speak. “Sit. Down. Stacey. Bridges will fill you in.”

Stacey watches as Erik and Alex walk to the elevators, she sits back down with a huff. She looks over to Ashley. “What just happened?”

“You asked for Killmonger.” She shakes her head methodically as a sly grin breaks across her face. Shrugging her shoulder, “Now, you got him.” She pulls up another document on the screen. It is a dossier for one, Erik ‘Killmonger’ Stevens.

—

As the elevator doors close, Green hits the button for the 31st floor and looks at Stevens, “How are we playing this, Kill?”

Erik is standing at attention, staring directly at the closed doors. “The team thinks I am recruiting for one of your special assignments. I have made my decision, and we are going to tell Mr. Stone in person.”

Green mirrors Stevens as the elevator descends the final two floors. He rolls his shoulders back, straightening his stance. Neither man thought they would be back in this same position presenting a united front, nearly 20 years later. He takes a moment to prepare to do his part, backing any move that Kill makes. It isn’t about him, it never was. It’s something they started years ago and will continue to do until the end, protect Bridges and now LaNyah.

The elevator bell dings as they reach the Accounting floor. When the doors open, the two men walk out of the car side by side. They approach the front desk where Sandi sits. She looks up at them and immediately stops what she is doing.

“Mr. Green,” she acknowledges each man, “Mr. Stevens, how can I help you, gentlemen?”

Green tries to keep the menace out of his voice, “Please call Matt to the front. We need to speak to him.”  

“Oh, he must have gotten the special assignment position. How wonderful!” She picks up her phone and calls his office, “Matt, Mr. Green and Mr. Stevens are out here. They want to speak to you.” A dial tone sounds on the line, Sandi stares at the phone and puts it back on the base. “He hung up. He must be on his way.” She cheerfully explains.

Immediately, Green runs back towards his office while Stevens stays in front, waiting for Matt to make his way to him. Matt zig zags his way through the assembly of cubicles that are back to back. Green spots him and cuts him off, forcing Matt to run along the right side of the floor.  

“Stevens, on your left!” Kill hears the directive from Green and moves to his left at the exact moment Matt comes into his line of sight. He is running too fast to stop and runs straight at Stevens. Matt shifts to pass him on the right when Kill’s arm comes out, clotheslining him.

“Going somewhere, Matthew?“ Matt hits the carpeted floor hard. Stunned, he has no time to recover before Green comes from behind him and snatches him up. Kill glares at him as he grabs Matt’s other arm, and they walk him back to the elevator. Matt slumps over, forcing them to carry his dead weight onto the car when it arrives.

Green and Stevens drag him off the elevator and into the conference room. Bridges pulled a fold-up black chair towards the empty area in preparation for Matt’s arrival. The women get to work tying him up once he is set on the chair. Standing up, Stacey and Bridges move back to stand next to Green and Stevens.

Matt looks up at them and starts whimpering. “I’m sorry. I am so sorry. Please don’t’ kill me. I have a baby on the way.”

“How many properties does she own?” Kill asks.

“We are looking for anything in an industrial area. The bigger and more isolated, the better.” Green adds.

“25 in total across the U.S. 7 in California alone,“ Ashley responds.

"Do you think they are still in the state? She has a 72-hour head start over us.” Stacey interjects.

Green nods his head, “Yeah, they are still here. Gina wants to draws us out. She’s not taking them out of the state.”

“Besides, dipshit over there has an 8-month pregnant fiancée. Flying would be the fastest way to get them as far away as possible, but it’s a no go with Laura, too.” Kill watches Matt, who has been blubbering in the background until he heard Laura’s name.

“W-what? Laura is at her mother’s house in Bakersfield.” He sniffs, “I spoke with her a few days ago.”

Ashley asks, “What day?” Stacey pulls up a map and spots the grayed out location tag. “According to this, her phone signal died Friday night.” Matt looks at the screen and notices that the phone went out at her mother’s house.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit.” He struggles in the chair, trying to drag it forward. “It was on Friday. Let me call her mom. I can prove that she is there.”

“Stacey, call Laura’s mother. Put it on speaker.” Kill stands behind Matt, “Get yourself together, she already doesn’t like you.”

The phone rings 3 times before it is picked up. “Hello.”

Matt clears his throat before speaking, “Hey Martha, can I speak with Laura?”

“Matt? She ain’t here. My friend Mrs. Williams offered to take her on a spa retreat for the weekend. She was picked up on Friday night.” Matt’s face falls at her statement. Bridges and Stacey have another map pulled up on the screen, it has pins on all of Gina’s properties in California.

“Did they mention which spa?“ Matt’s voice starts to crack, and Kill squeezes his shoulders.

“Yeah, I think they said La Jolla. Leave her alone, Matt. This is her free time to relax before the baby comes.”

“Yeah, I understand. Thanks, Martha.” Stacey hangs up the phone while Matt breaks down. Through his tears, he looks up at the screen, “Gina has a warehouse where she conducts business in San Diego.” Stacey circles the location and texts the address to everyone.

“We leave in an hour.” Matt relaxes into the chair, “Oh no, don’t get comfortable. You are coming with us.” Kill snarls at him.

—

Something is wrong. LaNyah wakes up with a dull headache. She crosses her arms over her face as her mind repeats the same queries over and over. How will anyone know she is missing? Someone has to be looking for her, right? Who would want to take her, and for what? She has no enemies and keeps to herself. How will anyone find her? She exhales out all those feelings and decides it is time to deal with her reality, whatever it may be at this point.  

She looks up at the ceiling and knows that she is not in the same room as before. She closes her eyes again, counts to 100, stretches out, and slowly sits up on the bed. Looking at her attire, she notices someone changed her clothes. No longer in her cute shopping outfit, she is in a huge plain white tee with gray sweatpants and white socks.

She shudders, thinking one of those men might have touched her while she was unconscious. Closing her eyes once more to center herself, not wanting to dwell on that, she tries to think of anything else. Still not knowing what day it is, her mind shifts to work and her chosen family – Alex, Ashley, and Stacey.

LaNyah finds herself smiling, even thinking about Erik. He may have been an inconsiderate jerk to her for whatever reason, but it’s not like she hates him. She knows he has been trying to apologize to her since then. Maybe she should finally hear him out. LaNyah opens her eyes and resigns herself to just that when she gets out of there.  

People are looking for her. She grins to herself, then laughs. If anyone is looking for her, it would be all of them. Yeah, she’s gonna be just fine. She starts humming to herself until she hears some movement from the other side of the room. For the first time, she realizes this room is much bigger than her other makeshift cell.

It reminds her of a college dorm split in half down the middle. Each side identical with a small bed against the wall, a chair, and a lamp. In front of her is a big shared living area complete with a couch, matching side chairs, and a coffee table. So, she moved from a private room to their dormitory, that’s cute. The movement draws her attention again. Who could be on the other side of the room?

LaNyah scoots to the end of the bed, throwing her legs over when she notices the bruising on her arm. Must have happened when they removed the IV line from her arm. She rubs the area, knowing it is going to leave a dark spot there even after the bruise disappears. She gets up following the noise, some soft grunting coming from the other bed against the wall.

She can only make out a lump in the center. The grunting grows louder the closer LaNyah gets to the bed. She kneels beside the woman bent over in pain. “Are you ok? Is there anything I can do to help you?”

“Get away from me.” Laura shoves her away. “This is all your fault. Why did you have to be such a little kiss ass?” Not expecting that LaNyah falls back without supporting herself.

“What are you talking about?” She gets up and dusts herself off. “I don’t even know you.” LaNyah turns around and goes back to her side of the room.

“Are you kidding me? You’re Green’s pet project. You are trying to steal my fiancé’s job.” Laura clutches at her stomach.

"I really have no idea what you are talking about. But you may want to calm down before you cause the baby any unnecessary stress.” LaNyah watches as Laura yells out again, from pain or frustration, she can’t tell.

“Matthew Stone!” LaNyah heart drops, hearing his name. His fiancée is stuck in this room with her. How can that be? Is he the one responsible for the missing money at GBI?

“Matt?” She shakes her head, “You are mistaken. I am being framed for embezzlement, and you think I am trying to steal his damn job.” LaNyah hisses at Laura.

“Ladies, ladies. There is no need to argue.” Both of their heads snap towards the door. Walking down the stairs is the older woman that LaNyah helped before she was snatched from the parking lot. Laura starts crying upon recognizing the woman.

“Are you here to kill us?” LaNyah looks suspiciously at Laura.

“Not yet, dear.” Gina walks over to the couch, “Please join me, and I will explain everything.“ She sits on the right side, pointing to the left for Laura, who waddles over and sits beside her, “and LaNyah, you can sit in this chair to my right.”

“H-how do you know my name?” LaNyah quietly asks, “W-who are you?”

“Come, come. I promise to tell you everything before your friends arrive.” She pats the arm of the chair. LaNyah slowly makes her way over, and plops down into the chair, before curling up with her arms around her legs. “There we are.” Gina claps her hands together and lays them in her lap. “Once upon a time – or rather, 18 years ago is where this story begins.”

Chapter 11

A/N: Thank you for all the love and support for this story. Special shout out to the lovely, @soufcakmistress for letting me pick her brain. 

Taglist: @killmongersaidheyauntie @muse-of-mbaku @panthergoddessbast @youreadthatright @princessstevens @eye-raq @stark-red19 @kreolemami @bidibidibombaclaat @iamrheaspeaks @missumuch1918 @simplyyamberr @cheychey10142 @ajspencer1892 @chrismarcs @loosewindmill @sydneebleu @semianta @eyeknowmywrites @alexundefined @itsjustmezari @goddessofthundathighs @guccixcucci @kissmyafropuff @gimmeface @fd-writes @jozigrrl @soufcakmistress @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @shaekingshitup @localtrapgod @post-woke @theesotericqueen

[bakugouscentedcaramel]

bakugo flat out told midoriya to kill himself, physically assaulted him multiple times, and verbally bullied him relentlessly. as a victim to similar bullying, he shows very little growth. yes he becomes more righteous as he becomes a hero, but his attitude never changes. his superiority complex in the early seasons makes me physically ill and will often send me spiraling as i relive what ive gone through. maybe other people see him differently but i can never bring myself to like him

Nfjfjfjf I love doing these breakdowns bc I wanted to be so many medical careers, one of them being psychology so this is great for me fnfjdj

Val's 420th Synopsis of GremlinBoomMan

So I'm not going to deny that he was a bully, I'd be blind to not see that. Now I know this Gremlin isn't everyone's cup of napalm, and that's perfectly fine darlin'! As I've said I hated him at first until I saw through some things.

He's been growing to be better than when he first appeared in episode one though. And I have receipts to prove it, along with some tea I spilt with @awkward-tension (psychology nerds ftw)

Take these two panels, one from the first chapter and the other from chapter 166 page 15. I want y'all to keep this in the back of your mind as I continue on my theory on BakuBoomBoomMan.

Now this panel grab from Chapter 165 page 5. (Now this theory was sprung by me rereading the Kindergarten Arc for another ask and this one line triggered my conspiracy theorist inside me)

Now if we consider the possibility of Bakugou having a rougher upbringing, one that we haven't really had the opportunity to witness because of the story being told by Midoriya, not a third, uninvolved party, his behavior starts to make a lot of sense.

We know that his mom isn't a stranger to smacking him around, and it's funny at first until you really reflect on it.

Mitsuki calls Katsuki weak and him ultimately being the reason for everyone being involved with the LoV (him being kidnapped). If she says these things in front of official School staff one could only imagine how the household is like when it's just them three. Mitsuki is in a way verbally and physically abusive, to what extent we don't know, but the evidence is there. As for his father, he could be classified as an enabler for his wife for not intervening and turning a blind eye to this conflict.

So where does that leave Katsuki?

Obviously having these types of parents will have a serious toll on a child. (Me being a prime example) It's safe to say that Katuski might've developed a form of depression/anxiety/self worth issues causing him to obsess over praise and power. His aggression could very easily be considered a coping mechanism for these conflicting feelings and as a way for him to have an outlet for what he was experiencing at home.

He finally found someone who he thought was below him on the totem pole, especially since Izuku hadn't developed a quirk yet. This paired with the praises he had when his quirk emerged only adding fuel to the flame of a bully mentality.

Midoriya being a perfect lightning rod for this anger.

Just think about it, you have a parent constantly calling you weak and worthless, treating you like human garbage, so you turn to your other parent, who is absent and blows off everything you tell them and turns the other cheek when they see this behavior in real time. The amount of rage, loneliness, heartache, depression, self loathing, self doubt, self consciousness, and self worth issues that a young child would experience during this all the way through adolescence? Yeah it's going to take some time to relearn healthy behaviors and communication. I know I'm still learning how to be "normal" after my family ordeals.

Now let's take a look at that panel again, this time in it's full glory. (Read right to left for those of y'all who aren't familiar with manga)

He truly doesn't want this child to be like how he was when he was they're age. He knows exactly what path this kid was on and he made sure to steer him back onto the right path. He doesn't want them to be like him. Generally people who have depression or some sister illness tend to see themselves as broken, just husks of what they could've been. Sometimes it fills them with wisdom and the ability to see others who are on the same path. Now I'm only speaking from personal experience when I say this. I would give anything in the world to stop anyone from doing some of the things I did when I was broken. And this whole topic just resonates with me.

If you apply this theory to his actions and behaviors it kinda just clicks into place just perfectly.

I wouldn't be surprised if this is actually a thing, given how fleshed out the Todoroki family is, I just hope my Gremlin gets some more backstory and/or development.

Again I'd like to thank @awkward-tension for adding their hot take on this and below is the screenshots of what started this whole analysis:

Like this only just makes me love him more bc I've personally been struggling with an abusive family my entire life and I'm just now at the age of 21 being a normal person who doesn't go into an anxiety induced panic when someone comes home.

OH (edit)

I forgot to add this panel:

This hints at the potential abuse he experienced/experiencing and also shows that he is willing to try/learn different things, fully knowing that he grew up in a uniquely cruel household. Just a small tid bit but still important

[creepy--pasta]

This is my own Creepypasta. It's called "Lacrymosa"

Her name was Lacrymosa Tea. Just as naming your child "Candy" predicts their future stripper career, her name almost guaranteed she'd be depressed. Lacrymosa is Latin for weeping/ sadness. Her father had run out on the family years ago and her mother was an alcoholic. Every night, she'd get drunk and beat her... that is unless her mother was on the phone with her sister all night. Lacrymosa cherished her aunt for that reason. They didn't live in the same state so the only way she could save her was to stay on the phone taking verbal abuse so that her niece wouldn't suffer physical abuse. She had no idea why she'd never reported it. Understandably, Lacrymosa was depressed. Her black hair hung limply around her face and her blue eyes once so bright had dimmed. She preferred to stay in the shadows. She preferred... to be away from people. By the time she was 13, she began cutting. It started when she was shaving her legs in the bathtub and the cheap razor broke. It cut a gash in her leg and at first, she swore under her breath cupping water in her hand to wash off the blood. However, as the blood oozed down, she felt satisfaction watching its path. The next day, Holly Hebert was teasing her again as usual in English class and she had a thought... the razor. This was a girl that sat behind her on the bus and cut her hair so it hung unevenly, put gum on her seat in class then pointed out the giant spot on her butt to everyone so they'd all laugh at her, threatened to beat her up daily, and often "accidentally" hit her with baseballs or volleyballs in gym class. She hated Holly. She didn't know who she hated more though...Holly or her mom. After school, she rushed home to dig the broken razor out of the trash and brought it to her room. She didn't hesitate. She placed the razor against her thigh and ran it in a long line. It bled just a little but it was enough. The sensation was hard to describe. It was like she was a balloon about to pop and the razor had let out some air. Just enough for her to function again. From then on, whenever she felt stress, anger, or any kind of unpleasantness, she would cut. Four years later, she was 17 and the cutting had all but stopped. Her thighs had visible scars from the years of cutting but so now did her upper arms and stomach. The scars were a reminder of the horrible things she'd done to herself. Sure she thought about doing it again, but she'd learned new ways to deal with her feelings. The one thing that helped most was the presence and attention of her little pug Evan. Her mother had gotten him for her and it was completely out of character, but Lacrymosa didn't question it at all. The dog meant the world to her. Shortly after she'd gotten Evan, her aunt had visited and seen the cuts on her body. She didn't deny it when her aunt had asked if her mother had done it. She couldn't admit she'd done it herself. In the end, her mother had gone to jail... and she'd been placed in her grandparents home. She felt bad she'd blamed her mother for the cuts but she'd done far worse to her for years. Bruises and broken bones her mother had gotten away with but now she was paying for her crime... even if it was technically the wrong crime. But that was years ago and she was able to sleep without fear now. One night she went to bed more exhausted than she'd ever been. So tired in fact that when a noise awoke her from a deep sleep, her eyes only fluttered open and barely registered a shadowy figure before falling deep asleep again. The next morning, Lacrymosa woke up to the sight of blood. There were cuts on her legs, stomach, arms, and wrists... just like the cuts she'd made herself for years. But she hadn't done these! She'd never even cut her wrists before. Why hadn't she felt any of it happening? Why hadn't Evan barked? She rushed to the bathroom to tend to her wounds then dressed in jeans and a long sleeve shirt to cover each bandage. She dashed out the front door ignoring her grandfather's greeting and rushed to school. She thought hard about the cuts. Had she done them herself? That's when she remembered the figure she'd vaguely seen the night before. Was it her mother? It had to be right? The next morning, she woke up and again... there was blood. Her cuts were deeper and the were more of them. She was scared now. She had to do something. Seeing the cuts was stirring something inside of her. She had the urge to cut again but no! She couldn't! She held Evan close and pushed the thoughts away. If it was her mom, she had to catch her. That night, she set up the camera on her computer to record while she slept and went to bed. The next morning, she awoke to the same cuts as usual. They were really getting deep now. Rushing to her computer, she stopped the recording and began fast forwarding through the footage. She watched herself sleeping covered only in sheets and moving slightly. She skipped through hours seeing nothing until she suddenly noticed something. Blood was seeping through the sheets. It was just a small spot at first but it grew quickly. Lacrymosa paused the playback. This wasn't possible. She'd watched closely and seen no one. She rewound the footage and watched again. There was no one there and yet there were cuts being made and blood pouring from them. The next night, she drank a ton of coffee mixed with caffeine pills. She was scared to sleep. It was like she was living a Freddy Kruger movie without the scary man and glove with knives for fingers. Trying her best to stay awake, she googled her problem. None of the results came close and she was about to move on and watch some videos on YouTube when a message popped up on her Facebook messenger. It was from a user with just the letter "D" for a name. She opened the message. It read: "We need to talk". Lacrymosa sat still a moment before responding. She had all but a dozen "friends" on Facebook (mostly family) and this was not one of them. "Do I know you? " she typed. "No, but we need to talk. It's about the cuts. Can you meet me? We can go somewhere public " She thought a moment. The cuts? How could anyone possibly know about that? Intrigued, she responded "How will I know who to look for?" "Meet me at the 24 hour McDonald's in town. I'll find you" Lacrymosa opened the window of her second story bedroom, pat Evan goodbye, and stepped out onto the porch roof. She then jumped onto the front lawn with a thud and got in her little beater car (a silver Neon her grandfather had gotten her for her 16th birthday) . When she got there, she looked around. She didn't know who she was looking for so she went to the counter to order coffee. As she stood there waiting for an employee to take her order, she felt a tap on her shoulder. "Hey" said a man. Lacrymosa turned around. Before her stood a very tall pale boy about her age. His long shoulder length hair was black and his eyes were a beautiful grey. If he didn't look so tired and worn out, he might actually have been attractive. "Are you..." she tried to ask suddenly remembering she didn't know his name. "Draco... yes" he replied. "Draco? Your name is Draco? Like Draco Malfoy?" Lacrymosa said realizing she was probably saying the wrong thing. He rolled his eyes. "Yes... my parents are really big Harry Potter fans " he said almost sarcastically. "Your name isn't any better. Lacrymosa... like the song Roman Catholics play at funerals" "You're right. Fair enough. Why haven't I seen you in school? " she asked. Before he could respond, a McDonald's employee interrupted. "Can I help you? " she asked. They turned to see a smiling woman behind the counter waiting patiently. Draco ordered and paid for 2 large coffees and started walking to a booth in the back. They sat down in silence for a few moments before Draco responded to Lacrymosa's question as though there had been no interruption. "I'm homeschooled." He said simply. "So..." she said "how did you know? " Draco looked up from his cup. Then he rolled up his sleeves to reveal his arms full of bandages with blood seeping through. "You and I... are in trouble" he said. She tried to respond but he held up his hand. "Let me explain something first. Then we'll discuss it". Lacrymosa nodded quickly "I had a dream last night. In it, my sister who passed a year ago... told me to find you. I thought at first that she was talking about some drink... sorry. She said we could figure this thing out together." He paused. "Have you tried to record it?" Lacrymosa nodded. "Me too. It doesn't show up on camera. Ive never seen it..." he leaned in closer "but I think I know why it's happening. Before it started, were you a cutter?" He asked. She nodded, "but I'd stopped! It's been a year! " he smiled. "I think I'm right then. I was a cutter too. There has to be a connection". They sat in silence for a few minutes. "So how do we figure this out? How do we stop it? " Lacrymosa asked. Draco shook his head. "I don't know but we've got to try. Let's keep in touch. Call me if you figure anything out and i'll do the same" he said. They talked for a long time that night about their problem as well as other topics before going their separate ways. Lacrymosa found out he'd been homeschooled because of horrible bullying. They had that in common but he lived with two very supportive parents so they didn't have that. They seemed to instantly bond united by a common problem and goal. It felt nice to finally have a friend. They spent every free moment together for the next month. They barely slept and it got to the point that Draco would sneak into Lacrymosa's room at night and they'd sleep in shifts with one of them awake at all times keeping watch. They were becoming very close now. One night Draco didn't come over. He'd fallen asleep on accident and around 2 am, Lacrymosa was woken up by her phone ringing. It was him and he sounded terrified. "Can I come over? " he'd asked. She agreed of course and within 20 minutes, Draco was on her porch roof tapping at her window. Lacrymosa let him in and he rushed into her arms. "I spoke to it" he whispered. She pulled away quickly to look at his face. He was serious. "What?!" She asked. He nodded closing his eyes. Lacrymosa guided him to her bed and they laid beside each other. She held him in her arms as he explained. "I caught it in the act" he said. "I woke up when I felt a presence beside my bed so I opened my eyes and...I heard a laugh" Lacrymosa held her breath as he spoke. She wanted him to explain and feared he'd stop if she made a noise. "I'll spare you the details but it said that hurting yourself is an unspoken contract with it. Whatever this is... it doesn't like that we stopped cutting ourselves. It's trying to renew that urge inside of us to make us start up again and the only way to make it stop is to continue cutting...or cut someone else" He stopped and looked into Lacrymosa's face. "Each life we take..." he whispered "will give us 2 weeks". They lay there in silence for what seemed like an eternity. "I can't cut myself again. I can't. I'm already too cut up" she finally said. "Me too" "But I can't kill someone else! " "Me either" "So..." "So... what now?" Silence again. "Who would you off anyways? You know... if we did it" he asked. Lacrymosa thought a moment." Oh she knew who. She knew 2 people actually. Draco was homeschooled but he had a few names as well. "I know who" she said. "But let's think on it. Sleep here from now on. That should keep us safe for now". They stared into each other's eyes for a moment before their lips touched. That's when they realized... they were more than friends. They'd come to love each other very much. It had happened quickly but neither of them had ever had someone they cared about as much as they cared for each other. Together they could get through anything. "I love you Lacrymosa Tea" he whispered. "I love you too Draco Riley". Every night for the next six months, Draco snuck into Lacrymosa's room not to keep watch but to sleep beside her... and all was well. No blood. No cuts. They thought they'd found a loophole. For those six months, they were the happiest they'd ever been. This had to be why they were being left alone by the entity that cut them. Love was stronger than whatever it was. They did everything together now. They'd even met each others families and Lacrymosa felt that one day they may be joined. She shared this thought with Draco and he'd laughed, hugged her, and said "wait for me will you? That's my job to ask you". They both graduated High School and celebrated their 18th birthdays (which were only weeks apart). They made plans for the future and even began to forget about their ordeal. They shouldn't have forgotten. One morning at the end of the six months, Lacrymosa woke up beside Draco as usual. Her eyes still closed, she smiled as she rested her head on his shoulder and snuggled up closer to him. But something was wrong. He was cold. She opened her eyes and immediately saw blood. All over the walls. All over the ceiling. She sat up and looked down at herself. She was full of blood but it wasn't all hers. She turned to Draco. She would have thought he was just sleeping except that he was an ugly shade of blue and he was covered in blood. His shirt was ripped open and carved into his stomach was "no loopholes" The next few days were a blur. Her grandparents were confused as to why he'd been in her bed, the police interrogated her about how he'd died beside her and she hadn't noticed, but they didn't ask about the message carved into his body... it was as though they couldn't see it. She didn't say a word. She didn't know what to say... she became catatonic. She was checked out and after seeing her cuts, she was stitched up and taken to a mental hospital. She missed Draco's funeral of course but that hardly mattered now. The thing... whatever it was... had taken Draco from her. For days she was in that hospital. Waking up with fresh cuts that were immediately stitched up. The staff were clueless as to how she was getting them and by the end of the week, she was covered in ugly black stitches... she now resembled Sally from Nightmare Before Christmas. Even in her face. Draco's parents visited her. Pleading for information... asking if she'd done it. She didn't speak. All she could do was cry and shake her head. They eventually left empty handed. Lacrymosa hadn't spoken a word since the morning she lost Draco. One day she was sitting in her room staring at the wall when she noticed a brick that was loose. She pulled it out and found that someone had hidden a knife inside. Suddenly she heard footsteps and quickly hid the knife under her mattress. She had a visitor... her mother. She strode into the room and sat down in a chair. "I got out" she said. Something in Lacrymosa snapped. Draco was put in the back of her mind for a minute and all she could think of was the things her mother had done. Everything Holly had done. All the reasons she started cutting in the first place. "They said you wouldn't speak...I hoped you'd talk to me at least. " she sighed. "You look awful". Lacrymosa stayed silent as her mother continued to talk. She yelled at her for not talking, blamed her for "that boys" death, and of course for putting her in jail. Lacrymosa couldn't stand the look on her mother's face. She was getting angrier and angrier the longer they sat there. She stood up and so did her mother. She probably thought her daughter was going to hug her or something but as she took a step closer, Lacrymosa swiftly made a move for the knife and slit her mother's throat. Dropping to her knees, her eyes pleaded for help. But her daughter just stabbed each eye... and walked away. Lacrymosa walked through the hospital slashing the throats of patients and staff alike. She swore she heard the chords of a Lacrymosa playing and began to hum along. How she walked all the way home in a now bloody hospital gown is a mystery. No one was home when she got there and she went straight up to her room... to where she'd last seen Draco and began to cry. For the first time in weeks, she spoke. Just one word. "Draco". Two weeks after the Greenleaf City post reported on the New Hope Hospital Massacre, it reported on the death of a recent High School graduate named Holly Hebert. Her throat had been slashed just as the victims at the hospital had but the word "bully" was carved into her arm. She wouldn't be the last.

[averyonelovesjack]

never IV ~ jonah marais

requested: yes

sO y/n goes to the wdw house cause jacks sisters are gonna help her get ready for a date and she bumps into jonah who is a mess from camilla breaking up with him and he apologises for not listening and y/n just gives him a ‘told you so’ attitude. then after the date with whoever he drops you at the wdw house and before leaving he tries to kiss you but you’re still struggling with trust issues from jonah but he keeps trying to force it. someone comes to the door or to the car and helps you out the situation and it’s jonah

summary: this takes place before & after y/n’s first date post-breakup and her interactions with jonah during that time, including an apology for claiming she was trying to break him and camila up and a little rescue mission performed by the talented and beautiful ex

warning(s): cursing (literally every one of my imagines)

word count: 1527

author’s note: ok so i’m not creative in any way possible but @phcnekisses is literally so good at creating ideas for this story. i hope you enjoy the fourth part. idk if i’ll write a fifth but if someone has an idea for a fifth part lmk. maybe something will come to me, maybe not idk man. hope you like it:)

READ THESE FIRST:

 part I, part II,  part III

My cold fingers slammed the door to the white two door jeep wrangler. It was currently freezing in LA. I’d always been used to freezing cold weather since it was cold where i grew up, but i’d easily gotten used to the warmth when moving to LA and now it was getting much colder and i definitely did not enjoy that. 

I walked up to the house and knocked on the door. There were a couple of footsteps from inside and suddenly the face of my rosy cheeked friend appeared and let me in. I gave Zach a big hug and stepped further into the house shared by him and his band mates, “ava and sydnie here yet?” 

“i think they’re in jack’s room” Zach informed me and I nodded my head, “i didn’t know you were coming over today” 

i nodded, smiling, “the girls are visiting and they told me that they’d help me get ready for a date” 

“ooh look at you getting yourself a date” Zach played and I rolled my eyes in a joking matter, “who’s the lucky guy?” 

“this cutie i met at the starbucks near me yesterday” I inform, “his name is Andrew” 

“sounds like you know a lot about the guy” Zach sarcastically told me.

“well that’s what first dates are for” i smiled and then placed my hand on his shoulder, “i should get back there. it was great seeing you” 

“you too” Zach smiled as I walked past him and into the house. I found Jack and Daniel’s room and stepped inside after pushing the door open. 

A smile appeared on my face as i looked at the three girls sitting in there. They each came up and hugged me, and I held onto Isla a little longer since she was so cute, “thank you guys so much for helping me”

“of course!” Ava told me with a smile and I looked towards the younger girl who had her makeup set up.

“i don’t really own any makeup, but i went out and bought some brushes to use?” i picked up my heavy purse and handed the plastic bag full of brushes to the two girls.

“perfect” Sydnie looked at them, “alright what’s the outfit of choice?”

I pulled out my bulky bag and grabbed the outfit i’d picked out, which was a yellow flowy shirt, black ripped jeans, and some boots. They smiled at the choice.

“hey, do you know where the towel’s are? i don’t want to get makeup all over jack’s bed” Ava asked me.

“yes, let me go grab one” i told them, smiling. 

I left the bedroom and turned into the hallway. I heard a few voices and looked to see Corbyn and Jack sitting in Corbyn’s room. I smiled and waved at the two of them before continuing to walk until I reached the kitchen. I looked through the cabinets and found a regular dish towel.

I stood up and was suddenly faced with a moping around very tall boy. Jonah stood in front of me with a bowl in his hands. His eyes were puffy and swollen, and he had large bags underneath them, “you look like death”

he nodded his head, “i feel like death” 

“everything ok?” i questioned him. i don’t like the guy, but he didn’t look ok and it’d be inhumane for me to just leave him like that.

“camila dumped me” he informed me, “i was just a stepping stone for her career” 

“maybe next time you’ll listen to me when i warn you” i look at him, no longer feeling as sorry as i did seconds ago, “you and i have a history, but unlike that bitch i wouldn’t break up a relationship” 

he nodded his head as i rolled my eyes, walking past him to get into jack’s room and hand the girls the towel. i couldn’t help but think about how sad he had looked. despite the way he broke me, it hurt to see him hurting like that. sometimes i wonder if that’s what he did thinking about me. if he ever cared that we broke up. he’d moved on so quickly that i doubt he had time to care. now that i think about it though, even if he wasn’t crying about me, it almost felt good that he had felt the pain he had caused me. 

I laughed a little bit about what the attractive guy had said to me as we drove back towards the Why Don’t We house.

“so i can drop you off where i picked you up?” he sent a beautiful smile towards me that made me want to crumble.

i nodded my head, “that’d be perfect. my car’s there” 

he acknowledged me with a nod and turned to face the road, “you don’t live there?” 

i shook my head, not that he could see it, “my friends there and their sisters were helping me get ready today since i have a terrible sense of fashion” 

he chuckled, “i think you look great” 

“thank you. you’re so sweet” i told him and watched as he pulled onto the street that the boys lived on. It was a little down the road so we talked about some other things until we reached the driveway. He pulled up behind my car and i sat there for a second giving him a smile, “i had a lot of fun, really” 

“me too” andrew agreed, “i’d like to see you again sometime” 

“that’d be great” i smiled and before i could do anything, i saw him leaning in towards me. i very quickly pulled away from the kiss and looked at him. the last person i kissed was jonah. and now here i am, in front of his house, kissing the boy i’d just met. it took weeks for jonah and i to kiss and it seemed unfair to just let a random stranger that i barely knew kiss me. what if he never responds? how would that be fair? i’d have kissed a stranger.

“is something wrong?” he asks and i shake my head politely, so he leans in again to kiss me again. this time i caught myself and pulled away before he was close. i sent him another smile but he grunted at me, leaning further over the consul to reach my lips. he came in closer, now it was legitimately getting awkward. he was about to reach my lips whilst i leaned against the back window to get away when a loud and scary knocking sound came. he pulled away and looked behind me, rolling his eyes at whoever had knocked. i silently thanked whoever it may be and watched as andrew sat back in his seat, a pissed look on his face. 

i opened the door to the car, getting out as andrew glared. a look of shock was written on my face as my emotions ran high with jonah standing in front of me. jonah banged on the window a final time and andrew looked over, shooting him a deathly look and winding down the window.

“can you stop banging on my fucking window?” andrew spit viciously as i was clearly taken aback by the boy who’d been formerly so kind.

“yeah, when you learn to respect women” jonah replied with venom spilling out with his words, “she very obviously didn’t want to kiss you” 

“who the fuck do you think you are?” andrew asked, sitting up in his seat and looking at jonah as my face reddened with the conflict evolving.

“someone who knows damn well enough when (y/n) wants to be kissed” jonah quickly retorted at the boy, “now get the fuck out of my driveway before i call the fucking cops” 

my eyebrows rose as jonah watched as andrew drove out of the concrete path to his shared house. i don’t know whether or not i am thankful for that. whether he should have minded his own damn business or he saved me from something that could’ve been worse.

as andrew drove further down the street, jonah let out an exhausted sigh and turned to face me, looking down at my shorter height, “you ok?” 

“fine” i reply, my face hiding anything that i felt towards what he’d done for me in that moment.

i stepped ahead of him after we stood there for a minute and we walked towards the house. i entered, my emotions confused as i walked further into the house. without a sound, i walked towards the room shared by jack and daniel, praying that jack would be the only one in there. thankfully, as i stepped in, i saw jack lying on his bed with his laptop and headphones in. his face quickly turned to see mine and a smile broke out before he could tell what was happening.

“how was the date?” i kicked off my shoes and sat down on the bed, my face an exhausted on as i leaned my head against his legs.

“i hate guys” i closed my eyes, trying to wrap my head around everything that had just happened. 

part V part VI part VII

[education-tips]

Tips for Seniors/Juniors in High School (Plan on Going to College) College Admissions Advice #1

So when I was a Junior/Senior i remember freaking out about what college I wanted to go to and what I wanted to be and whatever

NOW I know I want to be an educator and help teens through this time because I remember how stressful this process was.

So here’s a 10 Tip thread I made for Jr/Seniors in HS who plan on applying to college

Look first of all, let me just say a disclaimer: I am not a college admissions person, this was just my experience with the California’s college application system.

So in my experience: I had the luxury of applying to 10 colleges (8 pub, 2 Priv) all in California #blessfeewaivers

The schools I applied to all ranged from prestigious to average but most of them happened to be my safety schools.

I wanted to point this out bc that was one of the things you SHOULDN’T DO when applying to college.

Don’t doubt yourself

When applying to college, many people get too caught up on rankings and whether they can get in the college or not.

And I was the same way. I even made a list

<

p>When I was applying to college the main factors I looked for in a school were:

Prestige

Size of school

Weather

WOKE OR NOT

Difficulty to get in

How far was it from home

Etc

So make a list of what you want in a college. Especially if you want to dorm. You know what you want whether it be a school by the beach, or a school in a large city etc

Colleges won’t fit everything on your list, but if they do, congratulations you have found your dream school.

Apply to dream schools even if your dream school is insane to get into or it’s far away or whatever, apply to it!!

DREAM SCHOOLS DO NOT HAVE TO BE THE BEST SCHOOLS, THEY ARE NOT SYNONYMOUS ALTHOUGH THEY SOMETIMES CAN BE

Your dream school is the place you feel like you’d flourish AND fits the criteria you have set for yourself

Nobody should ever make you feel ashamed of your dream school because in the end if you get in you’ll be happy

Also, apply to places even if you doubt you’ll get in. They may not be your dream school but they might turn out to be.

You’ll have a better chance of getting in if you apply compared to the literal 0 chance you’ll have if you don’t apply.

Just have the guts to apply to your “dream school” or a school you really like aight.

But also realize that if you’re applying to less that 5 schools, then maybe you should consider some safety schools.

Apply to safety schools but not too many like me :)))))

These schools are not even schools that are low in “ranking” They are just schools you wouldn’t mind going to but the point is you’ll def get in.

Apply to schools you feel are what you want without focusing on your major too much

Be aware that yes your major might “matter” but apply to places that interest you as a whole. Your major might change. Your school, probably not.

And know what your comfortable with. Personally, I wanted to go to a school close enough to come home on then weekends but still be able to dorm.

Apply to private schools if you fit any of these 1. You got a dank scholarship 2. You’re not planning on dorming 3. Dream school 4. You’re rich 5. You got a fee waiver and why not

Private schools can be fucking expensive. They are smaller and have a “better quality education” but know that price is the main factor.

Many private schools in Cali offer really good education such as Stanford and USC

But unless they offer you a private school education at a public school price they can put you into some serious debt

Many of them also offer very little financial aid but do give out substantial scholarships. I was offered a $26,000 scholarship to a $65,000 school ???

So unless you have a fee waiver, applying to one of those schools and doing the work for it may not be all it’s cracked up to be in the end.

Work on your personal statement EARLY ASF

THE BIGGEST THING WHEN APPLYING TO COLLEGE IS THE PERSONAL STATEMENT SO IF YOU STRESS OUT ABOUT ANYTHING IT SHOULD BE THIS

Your personal statement is the only place in your college application that you can bluntly state: “IVE STRUGGLED IN LIFE PLEASE ACCEPT ME”

Depending on your past you either dread writing about you or you have nothing to write about.

But seriously start early. And if you don’t know where to start, just free write.

I had a dream and the following day I wrote about that shit and I actually used it in my essay. (As a metaphor)

Apply to Financial Aid and Look & apply for scholarships!

My decision on the school I finally chose had SOO much to do with financial aid.

Some schools sometimes will offer you little to no financial aid and if your a broke bitch like me you’re counting on that financial aid

If paying for college is a factor in your decision plan ahead, like start now.

Career Centers are your holy grail when talking about financial aid and colleges in general.

Look for scholarships to apply to ahead of time and get all the shit you need in order for you to submit them. (Letters of Recs)

Speaking of Letters of Rec, if you are planning on applying to a private school, most likely they will ask you for 2 or more letters of rec

So… 8. Make a Bragging Sheet

A bragging sheet is like a resume but for high school. Make a google doc and put down EVERYTHING YOU HAVE DONE IN HS OR ANYTHING THAT IS WORTHY OF MENTIONING

For example - Associative Student Body 2020-2024 - (Leadership Role: if any) [And then put a brief description of what y'all do but in a profesional manner]

My teacher made me do this after I asked him to write me a letter of rec and it helped me sooo much bc

This helps bc it will give your teachers (those who will write your letter or rec) something to say about you in their letter.

And make sure to give it to every teacher/ counselor that way they know exactly what they should put in your LetOfRec

If you’re a person who has done a lot of activities in HS, this will help bc most applications will ask you what you’ve done

Scholarships ask you what activities you’ve done in HS and you’ll have them all written down on this doc and all you have to do is copy it

It honestly comes in handy guys and it’s really easy to make. Google Bragging Sheet/Letter for more info about how to set it up

Do test scores matter when applying to college? ACT? SAT? AP? Answer: Yes and No

AP scores only matter if the schools you’re applying to actually give you credit for the test you’ve passed

However, if you are planning to go to a UC, AP English Scores are SUPER IMPORTANT so pass them at least with a 3. Or retake them if you can.

AP scores are also important depending on your major. If you are heading towards a STEM major they can help you gain credit in that area.

As for SAT and ACT scores, they matter depending on the school you’re applying to.

Applying to a more prestigious school, and having a better test score puts you at a greater advantage

But there are many cases where people get accepted to their dream school having really good curricular activities and average test scores

Don’t stess too much

The actual college application is fairly easy to navigate. Especially the UC app. But do not wait until the last day!!!

For a couple of years now the website to submit your application will crash the day the app is due so try to finish it at least two days before

But if you do your bragging sheet, those applications will be so easy bc all you have to do is copy and paste what you already have.

Colleges want to see that you saw high school as a 3 sided Pie Chart filling in Academics, Sports, and Extracurriculars

They want to see that even if you didn’t play sports, you excelled in academics or vice versa.

In the end, any school is going to help you get to where you want to go as long as you also put in the effort to make your dreams happen.

Maybe some schools will get you there faster but how would I know, I’m barely starting that path myself lol

Edit: I’m so happy you all have found this post enlightening!! It makes me really happy to have passed on some of my wisdom. Go check out the rest of my posts if you want more detailed info and if you have any questions feel free to ask!!!

Edit #2:

Hi everyone! I’ve noticed this post has been getting a lot of traction recently! I’m now in my third year of college and I just would like to point out that I have no idea how updated the current website is!! So please take into consideration that though some tips may apply the process may be different or updated, I really have no idea! On that note, I wish you all the best!!!

[thorne93]

The Right Path (Part 2)

Prompt: (From request) Hi! I was wondering, would you it be okay to request a Charles Xavier x telepath!reader? Where they have a mind link since their ability first showed up and so they already know each other even before theyve actually met and then he finds her when he first uses Cerebo and he and Erik go to her first?? Its an idea ive had for a while, but im not nearly an amazing writer like you!

Word Count: 1410

Warning: language (maybe??), child abuse, mental and physical abuse, depression…

Note: I LOVED this request. Thank you for sending it in. I am so sorry it took so long to write. I hope I did it justice dear. Plus, thank you for the super sweet note ; ) Beta’d by none other than @like-a-bag-of-potatoes

Forever Tags: @capsmuscles @cocosierra94 @essie1876 @magpiegirl80 @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @harleyquinnandscarletwitch @iamwarrenspeace @marvel-imagines-yes-please @superwholocked527 @myparadise1982sand @missinstantgratification @thejemersoninferno @rda1989 @marvelloushamilton @munlis @thefridgeismybestie @bubblyanarocks3 @random-fluffy-pink-unicorn @hardcollectionworldtrash @igiveupicantthinkofausername @kaliforniacoastalteens @feelmyroarrrr​ @kaeling

James McAvoy:  @bohemianrhapsody86 @lenawiinchester

Charles Xavier: @bohemianrhapsody86 @lenawiinchester

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What else can I say to her?” Charles asked as he and Raven sat over a hot breakfast.

“Who?” Raven questioned as she bit into pancakes.

“The girl...in my dreams. Or...the girl whose dream I enter,” he corrected, a bit of a frown coming to his handsome face.

“Oh, her? You’re still doing that?” she asked with a raise of her eyebrow. “I thought you’d be past this by now.”

“Yes, Raven, I am still doing that,” he remarked, a touch of anger in his voice. “She’s a telepath like me, I’m sure of it. She must be a strong one because I can sense her from wherever she’s at, even when she’s unconscious, just think what she’s capable of when she’s awake,” he commented, more to himself than to her. He was in awe of you but other than your face in the dreams, he couldn’t get anything else from you. He was only able to hold up signs because he was awake in your dreams, manipulating himself and what he could do, but you still seemed bound by your dreaming mind.

“Why don’t you just give her your number?” she asked with an eyeroll.

“You know you’re not exactly delicate,” Charles said, his face pinching into annoyance as his eyes slid over to his adoptive sister.  

“And you’re in a bad mood because your dream-girlfriend isn’t talking to you,” she retorted as she lifted her coffee mug with a smug look and left the breakfast table.

He contemplated all week on a way to communicate more with you. Questions weren’t going to work because you couldn’t answer him, but he didn’t want to blather endlessly on signs in your dreams. You might think he was crazy, or you might not care who he was or what he wanted. He also couldn’t say he was a telepath or ask if you were, because if you weren’t, that was probably going to alarm you more than anything.

He couldn’t get past your dreams so far, probably because you were sleeping, and your mind had taken the wheel as far as where and what it was accessing so he couldn’t get a name, address, family name, last name, pet name, state you lived in, school you attended if any...He was at a loss. How could he get to know you more? He wanted to get to know you more than anything. He was utterly obsessed with you now that you visited him during the night.

Finally, he decided if he couldn’t get to know more about you, other than your eccentric dreams, he would have you get to know him.

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

Three more years passed. The dreams and Charles still appeared off and on, periodically. As soon as you graduated high school, your parents kicked you out of the house. At first, you had no idea how to deal out in the real world. First and foremost you needed a place to stay, and with no friends and family that would take you in, you sought refuge at the church. You only spent a few months there before you were granted a full ride scholarship based on your exemplary marks to a decent college and you clawed at the chance like it was your last ounce of air.

Now you were twenty-one, over halfway through your academic career. You still weren’t sure what you wanted to do, not entirely. Your ability to read minds seemed to make it difficult. You didn’t want any sort of job that would have anyone looking down their nose at you. Perhaps you could get into a scientific field, and only work with esteemed colleagues.

Charles was twenty four, in graduate school now. You knew this because he periodically updated you on his life. He told you when it was his birthday and gave you the age. He told you when he was accepted to graduate school and what he was studying. Psychology. It was fitting. You had a feeling he had the same power you had, but perhaps he could only communicate with those who were dreaming.

He was perfectly charming, or so he seemed. All you could go off of were his face, his body, and signs he held up in your dreams. But even if he had the personality of a potato, his face alone would probably make you walk on broken glass for him. You learned he had a sister, her name was Raven. You learned he was doing well in graduate school, in fact he was about to graduate. With a smiling face and a simple sign, he told you the date. Somehow, you wanted to give him a graduation present. Absurd though, considering you technically didn’t know this man and he didn’t know you. But still, you were bonded, shared a mind-link going on four years now. That must mean something, right? It wasn’t a coincidence?

He lived in New York, not the City. He lived in a quieter town up north. Quite a change of pace from you in your South Carolina home. You wanted to meet him, to hear his voice, to actually touch him, but alas you didn’t have a car. All you had was a lousy job as a waitress at a diner up the street to help pay for things the scholarship didn’t cover, there was no way you could afford a car or even a bus ticket there. Besides, what would you do once you found him? If you found him.

“Oh hi, you visit me in my dreams so I thought we could chat in person,” you thought sarcastically.

You wished you could talk with Charles. Find out all about his abilities. If he was able to control it. If he really is just confined to dreams or if he could hear anyone’s thoughts like you. You had a million questions for a complete stranger, but at least, after everyone, he seemed to be the only one who still wanted to be around you.

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

“Okay, so, uh, the electrodes connect Charles to the transmitter on the roof. When he picks up a... mutant, his brain sends a signal through a relay, and then coordinates of their location are printed out here,” Hank McCoy, the young genius in the room, explained to Charles as he was getting ready to put Cerebro’s helmet on his head. Erik was circling him, amused, as Raven watched on with curiosity and impressiveness.

“What an adorable lab rat you make, Charles,” Erik mused with a coy grin.

“Don't spoil this for me, Erik.”

“Oh. I've been a lab rat. I know one when I see one,” Erik commented.

Hank fussed over some more mechanics and dials before rushing back to Charles to check the device. “Are you sure we can’t shave your head?”

Charles calmly warned, “Don’t touch my hair.”

“Okay. It's working,” Hank informed triumphantly.

Charles could touch every mutant’s mind on the planet. Every one of them. And while he wanted to help them all, reach out to all of them, show them they’re not alone, he had one particular mutant in mind - you.

After four years of a mindlink, he finally had a chance to meet you. To find you. To help you. Hear your voice. He knew nothing about you, and yet, he felt like you two were the greatest of friends. He hoped that you wanted to be his friend too, perhaps his ever constant presence in your dream has been a nuisance and you wanted nothing to do with him, but he had to check. He had to see if you wanted to meet. Surely you were at least curious.

He concentrated hard and you were the first one he saw. In his mind’s eye he saw you in your true form for the first time, not in the dreamy, blurry, hazy world that was your sleeping mind. You were sensational. Simply stunning. He saw you sitting at a small desk, your face buried in textbooks. He marveled at the sight of you, nearly giddy with happiness as he saw the coordinates to you were printing out.

Now, he literally had a map to you and after all these years of yearning to meet you, to actually know the first thing about you. He could barely contain his excitement. So he and Erik set out, together, to find all the mutants on the eastern coast that they could for their mission.

[relentless-for-jesus]

(Nov. 19th anon) I understand the lack of motivation for college - higher education is like that: it requires your all, and if you don't have that, it can be hell on earth for many. Don't feel bad or worry yourself too much, school will always be there, and there are many careers you can enter without needing a college degree, if ultimately, you decide it's not for you. I know plenty of people who didn't, and even one is on the board of reps (CEO, COO, CFO) for a major hospital chain. [Part I].

Hi again! 

Ok, I’m gonna answer these messages individually. My answers will be in bold :)

Yes, I agree that school will always be there and that a college degree isn’t needed. I just wish it was so pushed on people you know? I feel like society clouds people from other options after high school.

Anon: Honestly, education is important for some, but I truly believe it's hyped incredibly higher than it's actual merit in society than many people realize. I mean, the higher education graduation rate for millennials is huge, and they suffer from some of the highest unemployment rates. I was even told by a professor once that some jobs will see people as "overqualified" for a position and choose not to hire them, sheerly because they don't want to shell out more money on a paycheck. [Part II]

I think it is hyped too! A college degree doesn’t guarantee success. I know that for a fact! It makes sense that people can be deemed as overqualified for a position and not hired because the company didn’t want to pay them what they should. That’s actually kind of sad...

Anon: Regardless, I'm rambling. The choice is yours, because whatever path you decide to go down is what is going to make you happy, and if college doesn't make you happy, it doesn't matter how many 0's are in your paycheck. My dad always told me "follow your dreams, and the money will find you." Take it from him, he went to college, as a Cuban immigrant in the 80's, and decided he was miserable, so he dropped out, bought an 18-wheeler, and became a trucker - happier than a CEO. [Part III]

I really want to do what God wants me to do and if college isn’t it, then I will trust God and just go where He leads me ya know? Oh wow that’s nice for your dad! I think that it is better to be happy doing what I love and make a small amount of money than get stuck making a lot of money and being unhappy doing what I hate. I remember that our rewards are also in Heaven. All the stuff we get here on earth will fade away at some point so we better store our treasures in Heaven up right!? Because they last forever.

Anon: And yes, I graduated - B.A. in English Literature and Language - from a pretty well known East Coast university. I even began to pursue my Master's, and guess what, I broke down in the shower one night because I was miserable. So what did I do? Withdrew. Hated myself for a little while, but later realized I'd rather work with little children in schools and aftercare programs and volunteer with the less fortunate, and, honestly, I'm less stressed and laughing. Do what makes you smile. [Part IV]

Oh that’s cool! That sounds like a great thing, to work with children in school’s aftercare programs and volunteer for the less fortunate. That sounds like a rewarding thing. It is definitely good to laugh more and stress less. I hope things go well for you!!

Anon: FINALLY. 'Cause I feel like I've spammed your inbox enough - hmm, maybe I will! And no, you're not being intrusive, I was on Tumblr in it's wee days, as a teenager, and found myself in front of the screen too long, and being depressive, I needed to turn off cold and get fresh air. But, as you can see, I still meander here and there. Maybe as an adult I can handle it better! If I do, I'll be sure to let you know! Until then, I'll be here on anon, cheering you on and praying! [Part V]

Ohhh I got ya!! Taking a break from Tumblr is definitely understandable! Not everyone on here is nice. Ok awesome, let me know anytime!! And thank you for the praying and cheering, It’s nice talking to ya! God Bless you!

[twohundredandeighty-blog]

A Year in the Life of the Day 18

One year ago today was October 18th, 2016. This was the first day that I noticed abnormal bruises on my stomach and legs. At the time, they were very small, but growing. I remember being at work and noticing them, texting my mom, and being worried all day.

To show the growth and process of my recovery, here is where I was on my journey on the 18th of every month, from October 18th 2016 until October 18th 2017. (All pictures below captions.)

October 18th 2016: This was just a small glimpse of the conversation I had with my mom when I found the bruises that day. This was the very beginning.

November 18th 2016: Exactly one week after I got discharged from the hospital the first time, I found this bruise on the side of my body. At the time it was a celebration because it was the only bruise that I had. I had just started taking iron supplements and 100 mg of prednisone (steroids) daily.

December 18th 2016: This was shortly after I started steroids and I noticed a significant amount of weight gain in my face, and around this time, friends mentioned that I had put on weight and this is the time of year I started becoming insecure and hopeless. I also started developing a very short temper and major anger issues. I have a video of Abby, PJ & Cristina’s daughter, from this night where she looks directly at me and says “I think you're beautiful!” out of no where. Talk about a God moment, huh? This was the first time I had felt okay in weeks. Thank you, sweet baby.

January 18th, 2017: 18 days after the new year, I said goodbye to 2016 and hello to a fresh start in life relying solely on Jesus and His gracious love. 3 short months had gone by of meeting dozens of doctors, paying lots of bills, hospital stays and lots and lots of blood being lost. January 18th, 2017 I said ‘YES’ and decided I was going to publicly declare my love for Jesus by being re-baptizied

February 28th 2017: (Okay.. this is 10 days late.) This is Alicia and I in New Orleans during our Mardi Gras mission trip. As you can see.. my face was at its prime time of blowing up like a balloon. You couldn't even see my freakin’ eyes cause my cheeks ate them. The mission trip in NOLA was quite possibly the hardest thing I have ever done, I was in no position mentally or physically to be out on the street all day but so many people out there need prayer & Jesus and that is why after a while, it went from being a bother to being a privilege.

March 18th 2017:  My beautiful best friend Maya came and stayed with me for a week when I needed her most. We prayed together, laughed, studied the word and received so much love from my babies. Maya and my students... what more could I need? This was the week I went to the doctor and my cell count was at 142 - a number I had dreamed of. This week, I thought I was better until the end of March when I noticed a lot more bruising. 

April 18th 2017: Hospital visit number 2 due to irregular bleeding, and low platelet cell counts. My friends are freaking awesome and bought me balloons. Simple as that, I love them dearly.

May 17th, 18th & 19th 2017: On May 17th, I went in to see my doctor and he OFFICIALLY TOOK ME OFF STEROIDS! BEST DAY EVER!!! Then... he respectfully told me I couldn't fly to DC for my brothers graduation the following day because it was too risky... I respectfully told him to shove it somewhere because I’m not missing it. May 18th, I got a stat platelet transfusion in under 2 hours and a really cool green dinosaur bandage,  and on May 19th my brother received his college diploma, with me in the audience. In May, I started chemotherapy and started experience mild side effects.

June 18th 2017: My parents came into town and I stayed with them for a few days in Disney, but I don't have a picture. So... I’m skipping forward a few weeks to when Chino and I impulsively got our nose pierced and I bled A LOT for A LONG time. #worthit... June was the first month I noticed I was losing a lot of water weight in my face and stomach and it was the best ever! I started noticing my hair thinning out in June, and I noticed it falling out in clumps at a time.

July 18th 2017: Oh boy.... the day I hit my arm on a door and it swelled up so bad I had to go to the ER and was admitted for 5 days. Pictures don't do it justice (what does?) Also on this day, I got my 4th and final treatment of chemotherapy in the hospital. I also got to hang out with my favorite nurse EVER. I also got sensory overload due to 2 IV’s being in both my arms and being messed with at the same time and almost yelled at some grown adults. Fun stuff. (Thanks to my nurse, Tom, for dealing with my crap. <3) Later on in July, I decided my final step towards recovery was removing my spleen. I found a doctor (a really handsome one) that could perform the surgery for me and met with him this month, which was really intimidating.

August 18th 2017: 8 days post op, here are my battle wounds! There are 4 of them total, but these 2 were the coolest. This is what a spleen-less stomach looks like!

September 18th 2017: A much needed trip home to Connecticut where I saw my best friend Maya and her family again, my family, and my precious baby West who isn't so much of a baby anymore. I cannot even explain the joy in my heart after spending time with this kid. He made everything better.

October 18th 2017: TODAY. In 11 days I turn 19, I have lost a total of 20 pounds since last year, I no longer have a spleen, I’ve switched my career path, been to 2 different colleges, and so much more. Most importantly, I have conquered so much in one year. Thank you Jesus for the number 653, which is currently my platelet cell count. 

GOD IS GOOD. Thanks for joining me on this crazy year.

[vanillabeanniall]

91 Questions Tag

thank you 2 ryan @selkatha for tagging me, i love to talk abt myself

(under the cut bc you guys dont want to see this on ur dash)

THE LAST – 


1. Drink: water
 2. Phone call: 
i think it was my friend asking me where i was bc we got separated in cvs 3. Text message: i praised my roommate for having a baguette 4. Song I listened to: ...i just watched a very potter sequel 5. Time you cried: first night i spent alone here

HAVE YOU EVER –
 6. Dated someone twice: nope 7. Been cheated on: nope 8. Kissed someone and regretted it: yep (i dont like the two of them)
 9. Lost someone special: yep 10. Been depressed: not diagnosed but a bit for a while a few years ago 11. Gotten drunk and thrown up: no

LIST 3 FAVORITE COLORS –
 12. spring green 13. warm yellow 14. orange/red (like neon peach)

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU –
 15. Made new friends: yes!! even just this summer ive made a ton and im so scared abt never seeing them again after the program ends next week
 16. Fallen out of love: i’ve fallen out of a crush
 17. Laughed until you cried: nope 18. Found out someone was talking about you: yeah that BITCH
 19. Met someone who changed you: not really. just me
 20. Found out who your true friends were: yeah those BITCHES

MORE – 
 21. Kissed someone on your facebook? do i even still have that?
 22. How many of your facebook friends do you know in real life? probably most of them? i dont remember who im friend with on there 23. Do you have any pets? nope 24. Do you want to change your name? not anymore 25. What did you do on your last birthday? got my drivers license and got the flu
 26. What time did you wake up? 12:30 and even then only bc i had a date at 12:45 27. What were you doing at midnight? watching a very potter musical 28. Name something you can’t wait for: seeing julia again
 29. When was the last time you saw your mother? a few weeks ago
 30. What is one thing you wish you could change about your life? i want independence
 31. What are you listening to right now? nothing bc its finally cold enough to not have that GODDAMN FAN ON
 32. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom? yeah a few
 33. Something that is getting on your nerves? my sleep schedule & my final 34. Most visited site: this bitch right here

SCHOOL – 
 35. Elementary: it was fine. i was the smartest one i knew and i had no friends but it was fine. catherine and i watched les mis its the strongest memory i have 36. Middle: ha let’s not 37. High: i love high school tbh theres a lot to get into here but i wont 38. College: i love harvard university where i am right now its a dream tbh

ME – 
 39. Hair color: brown
 40. Long or short hair? masculine long feminine short 41. Do you have a crush on someone? not right now. i got broken up with today tho 42. What do you like about yourself? im smart af
 43. Piercings? ears & nothing else 44. Blood type: why is this one of the questions????
 45. Nickname: vas, a few things, idk
 46. Relationship status: again,,, broken up with today 47. Zodiac sign: aquarius
 48. Pronouns: she/her but i really don’t care much bc genders not really real anyway 49. Favorite TV show(s): BROOKLYN 99 50. Tattoos: i will!!!!! but as of now, no
 51. Right, ambidextrous, or left-handed? right handed but i play wii sports left handed

FIRST – 
 52. Surgery: adenoids out as a child
 53. Piercing: ears
 54. Sport: b!a!s!k!e!t!b!a!l!l!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 55. Vacation: i do not remember
 56. Pair of trainers: i dont know u british fuck

CURRENT – 
 57. Eating: nothing but i just ate so many goldfish crackers goddamn
 58. Drinking: nothing but good reminder to stay hydrated hold on.
 ok water 59. I’m about to: sleep
 60. Listening to: nothing its totally quiet right now

FUTURE – 
 61. Waiting for: college 62. Want: to find my soulmate 63. Married: for damn sure
 64. Career: product designer

YOUR TYPE – 
 65. Hugs or kisses? neither mostly but hugs
 66. Lips or eyes? eyes? i guess? i dont have much of a preference 67. Shorter or taller? taller pls but thats hard bc im tall so like does it matter 68. Older or younger? dont really care but ive mostly been into older people (not old people. not much older. fuck this answer didnt come out right) 69. Nice arms or nice stomach? both i love muscles (not like wild muscles like soft ones u know wht i mean) i wanna get ripped
 70. Sensitive or loud? sensitive i HATE loud
 71. Hook-up or relationship? relationship. 100% 72. Troublemaker or hesitant? really depends 73. Kissed a stranger? nope 74. Drank hard liquor? just sips 75. Lost contact lenses/glasses? yes too many times rip
 76. Turned someone down? nope im no hot commodity 77. Sex on first date? nope not now thanks 78. Broken someone’s heart? not that i know of 79. Had your heart broken? yeah but not romantically 80. Been arrested? no
 81. Cried when someone died? yeah. ive been to too many funerals 82. Fallen for a friend? only once (not again thanks)

DO YOU BELIEVE IN – 
 83. Yourself? yes, i have a strong conviction that i am capable of anything (which is bad bc like im smart but it leads me down dangerous paths both of things i cant do and the path of narcissism for example i tend to think im automatically smarter than everyone and i get competitive af but to be fair ive never lost them) 84. Miracles? yeah sure 85. Love at first sight? no but infatuation tho (thanks harry styles i stole that answer from u)
 86. Santa Claus? no but i like that
 87. Kiss on first date? really depends 88. Angels? yeah im actually really religious

OTHER – 
 89. Current best friend’s name: J U L I A 90. Eye color: hazel but mostly green unless it doesnt feel like it
 91. Favorite movie: WONDER WOMAN

k thanks yall ill tag (basically half of who ryan tagged rip i need more friends) @uswntinharmony @spnife @kaisder unless ur too cool 4 that

[seventeendeer]

Im so sorry for bugging you I know your super busy but you give the best advice so..I'm a senior in high school and my mother doesn't has a lot of money and there are just a lot of family problems happening right now so iv decided to not Pursue my dream of majoring in animation since I was in elementary school and I'm Going to go to trade school instead, It feels like a piece of me has been ripped out yanno? And I was wondering how do I not think about what "could have been" and move on?

First of all, I wanna say that that’s a very responsible choice for you to make! Living off any kind of creative work can be very difficult to achieve and I think it’s very mature of you to put your own dreams aside for the time being in order to pursue something more stable.

However, I would strongly advice against giving up on your dream completely. I don’t think you should move on - rather, I think you should consider this “pausing” your dream rather than giving up on it.

While going to school to learn animation may be a good way to learn and make connections, it isn’t at all the only way to become an animator. Tons of professionals in the industry are self-taught. And hell, even if you still regret never going to school for it in ten years, you might be able to use the money you’ve earned doing a different job to go back to school and major in animation as well.

Life is rarely a linear path from A to B. Sometimes you gotta take a detour, either out of your own choice or because life takes you other places than where you originally intended to go.

Two years ago, I was rejected by a school teaching sequential art/comics. I got to the audition part, but never made it in. Even though I’m confident I could probably get in today, I’m not going to retry - because during those two years, I’ve found new friends that I want to live close to and a new home that I can’t bring myself to abandon. Through a detour that was forced on me, I found something that means even more to me than the education I’d been dreaming of getting into for as long as I can remember.

And yet I’m still drawing! I’m still doing comics, I’m still having fun with the craft I love. And yes, I still dream of living off my art in the future. I’m completely certain that if I keep on practicing and getting better, I’ll be able to become a professional artist yet, school or no school.

My two cents would be - don’t give up on your dream. Definitely do the responsible thing and get a more stable career first - but don’t stop drawing. If you can find the time, keep teaching yourself more about animation and keep using the resources available to you online.

Maybe someday, you’ll have the money to go to animation school. Maybe someday, you won’t need it at all and you’ve become a brilliant animator all on your own! Or maybe you’ll find something that means more to you than art and it will stay a hobby while you pursue your new dream.

It’s all about making your own way in the world. You gotta do what you gotta do, but you never have to give up on your dreams. The future is unpredictable for both good and for bad. Things might turn out in your favor after all, and there’s no point in spending the time until that day feeling hopeless and defeated, y’know?

I hope things turn out okay for you. The sacrifice you’re making is a hard one, but it doesn’t have to be final. Either way, I hope you’ll be happy.

[rosenvenus]

idk if this is an ADHD/neurodivergent thing in general or if its a more common experience but i feel like being in college without a clear career path or passion i get confused and set on the Wrong Path a lot because i experience these momentary fixations on subjects like microbiology or medicine or plants or animals and i get ready to pursue that with the idea of like yes ive finally found out what i want to do this is my thing and then a week or two later the fixation wears off and suddenly i dont care anymore

[mastcomm]

A Composer Puts Her Life in Music, Beyond Labels

She was supposed to end up in Paris.

When the composer Tania León was 9, her piano teacher, traveling in France, sent a postcard back to Cuba with a picture of the Eiffel Tower. “I don’t know what happened to me when I saw the card,” Ms. León, now 76, said recently. “I went to my family, and I said, ‘This is where I’m going to live.’ And I became obsessed.”

A few years earlier, her intrepid grandmother had marched her to the local music conservatory in Havana and demanded that she be enrolled. They didn’t usually take students so young, but Ms. León already showed promise: Even at 4, she would press against the radio at home, dancing to salsa and singing along, with perfect pitch, to the classical station.

Following rigorous, European-style conservatory training, and inspired by her teacher’s postcard, the young pianist set her sights on France, intent on becoming a touring virtuoso and helping lift her family out of poverty. After years of waiting, she landed a free flight to the United States through a resettlement program. In 1967, at 24, Ms. León left for Miami, intending to travel on to Europe.

But right before boarding the plane she learned that she would not be permitted to return to Cuba, and upon entering the United States, she discovered that she would have to stay at least five years before she could apply for citizenship. She was trapped, a citizen of nowhere.

“That’s how I arrived: already traumatized,” Ms. León recalled.

But she soon reached New York, where she began carving out an unusually varied artistic path and resisting, even at a time of increasing focus on multiculturalism, the identity-based labels — “black composer,” “female conductor” — that others sought to attach to her.

She eventually served as the New York Philharmonic’s new-music adviser in the mid-1990s. Although she curated the Philharmonic’s American Eccentrics series and conducted educational concerts, the orchestra, which had a weak record with composers of color at that time, stymied some of her projects and never actually played her music.

But this week she finally arrives at the Philharmonic, with the premiere of her work “Stride,” to be performed on Feb. 13, 15 and 18, under Jaap van Zweden. The premiere is part of Project 19, a multiseason initiative in honor of the centenary of the 19th Amendment, that has commissioned works by 19 female composers. Deborah Borda, the Philharmonic’s executive director in the ’90s, returned as president and chief executive in 2017, and was eager to finally program Ms. León’s music.

“Here we are,” Ms. Borda said in an interview, “coming back to an important artist and enfranchising her, over 20 years later.”

Ms. León’s trajectory in America, from displaced pianist-in-training to compositional force, began with upheaval. Not long after she arrived, the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and Senator Robert F. Kennedy were assassinated; Ms. León barely spoke English, but found herself shouting slogans at antiwar protests. She was overwhelmed with stress, and her hair began to fall out.

But propelled by talent, tenacity and a bit of luck, she began to reverse her fortunes. She played her way into a scholarship at the New York College of Music. Substituting for a friend as an accompanist to dance classes, she was spotted by the famed New York City Ballet dancer Arthur Mitchell. He was starting a new venture, the Dance Theater of Harlem, and recruited Ms. León as music director.

Soon, Jerome Robbins and George Balanchine were teaching Ms. León their repertoire. “What freaked me out the most,” she recalled with a laugh in an interview in the Philharmonic’s archives, poring over old program booklets and photographs, was “when I found out that Stravinsky was alive, and that Stravinsky had written three or four ballets for Arthur Mitchell.”

At Mitchell’s behest, she began conducting, improvising and, increasingly, composing. Her tendency was to say yes to every opportunity, and not fret too much about what it might entail. “People that I respect a lot, they tell me something seriously and I think about it, but I don’t become negative,” she said. “He told me, ‘Write a piece.’ And I said, ‘Wow.’ So I wrote the piece.”

She honed her voice in large-scale, percussive dance works that dabbled in the serial techniques in vogue in the 1970s. The Dance Theater became an international sensation, and its tours even took her, finally, to Paris.

At last she was able to return home, through a Cuban government family reunification program. Visiting Havana in 1979, she went first to the cemetery to see her formidable grandmother, who had died while she was abroad. She played recordings of her new compositions for her father, who remained skeptical.

“He told me, ‘Where are you in your music?’” she recalled. “He knew something about me that I was not addressing in my sound.”

“When you come from one land into another, one culture into another, you want to be assimilated,” she added. “You want to learn the traditions, you want to learn the gestures.”

To remind her of her roots, her father took her to a Santería ceremony, where she heard the polyrhythmic music that she had absorbed growing up, but which had remained absent from her early professional work.

She returned to the United States, and soon after, her father suffered a stroke and died. Visa issues kept Ms. León from attending his funeral. She began having nightmares in which she heard pounding drums. She was working on a piece for solo cello, and started to sketch out a movement based on her father’s rhythmic gait, in the style of a syncopated montuno. The grand mixture that is Cuban music — its intricate grooves, melodic inflections, arrays of drums — began flowing into her compositions.

A series of probing works followed through the 1980s and ’90s: “Batá,” with its eerie evocations of Yoruba rituals; “A la Par,” a piano-percussion duo that moves from murmuring chromaticism to a coolly contained guaguancó rumba; and “Indígena,” in which trumpet fanfares herald riotous explosions of orchestral color.

“I was searching myself, trying to address something,” she recalled of those years, describing it as a period of “trying to understand my own culture.” The music’s central impulse is a forceful, bustling modernism, with angular and pointillistic gestures undergirded by kinetic, perpetual motion.

She also became an outspoken advocate for cultural diversity. Alongside her pathbreaking career as a conductor, Ms. León spearheaded a pioneering outreach program at the Brooklyn Philharmonic and led community concerts across that borough. She oversaw major festivals of Latin American music with the American Composers Orchestra, served as music director of the Broadway production of “The Wiz,” and testified at city hearings about the integration of pit orchestras. Today, she directs the wide-ranging festival Composers Now, which is going on across New York through February.

But as her career unfolded, Ms. León bristled at attempts to define her. Her background is mixed — she has family roots in Spain, France, Africa and China — and the seemingly binary categories of race and gender circumscribed her individuality.

“I am tired of all our labels,” she said in 1986. “I am nothing that the people want to call me. They do not know who I am. The fact that I am using this physical costume does not describe my energy, does not describe my entity. My chosen purpose in life is to be a musician, a composer, a conductor. This is the way I am making my contribution to mankind.”

She saw herself as a global citizen, a cosmopolitan figure boxed in by categories that had confined people of color for hundreds of years. The scholar Alejandro Madrid, who is writing a biography of Ms. León, observed recently that this ethos was grounded in her arrival in the United States in the late ’60s, toward the end of the civil rights movement.

“Identity politics are very strong,” he said of that period, “and she never felt very comfortable with it.” He added, “The ambivalences she has about blackness come out of the specific experience of her being in New York at this time, and being always labeled something that she didn’t believe she really was.”

Ms. León’s position is largely the same today: She praised the Philharmonic’s Project 19 as a “reparations gesture” but also argued that “any label limits the person.”

“I honor all my ancestors in my skin, and in my character, and my presence,” she said. “But I don’t go around saying I’m Cuban-Italian, or I’m Cuban-French, or I’m Cuban-this and Cuban-that.”

Nearly two decades ago she moved to Nyack, a village on the Hudson River north of Manhattan, seeking more space. “I always lived in places where, every time I looked out the window, I was looking at someone else,” she said.

Today, Ms. León remains a bit astonished by the trajectory of her life and career. “I consider what happened to me to be a miracle,” she said. She attributes some of her success to mystical forces, adding: “I still talk to the spirits of my ancestors.”

Her music is still infused with a vigorous pluralism, although it is a bit more relaxed — less harsh, less busy — than her earlier efforts. (Little of her recent work has been commercially recorded.) The Philharmonic will present a Nightcap concert on Feb. 15 that explores her myriad influences, with guests including the jazz harpist Edmar Castaneda.

“Stride,” her new work for the orchestra, is inspired by two women: the suffragist Susan B. Anthony and the grandmother who was a major presence in Ms. León’s life — a progressive who embraced socialism as soon as it reached Cuba. “Stride,” unfolding in a series of fitful episodes — thickets of glassy strings, declamatory brass and contrapuntal juxtapositions that evoke Charles Ives — is both solemn and celebratory.

It is also aware of the racialized limits on the enfranchisement that women won a century ago. Its final moment offers a note of prophetic dissent: As two percussionists symbolically ring 19 tubular bells, a third plays a rhythmic pattern based on a clave from West Africa.

“That is the symbol of the people of color,” Ms. León said. “It’s like, this is next.”

“It’s the 100th anniversary,” she added. “A lot of things have changed, a lot of things need to change, and that is my very personal comment. That we’re celebrating something that was handicapped, and something that is still handicapped.”

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