#and if you attend you can write an essay but i hate writing so i dont care sksk

[sexykwan]

good morning yesterday i found out i can only english class 10 times and ive already skipped twice.................ending it

[nonotnolan]

Jock Cock, Part 1

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Adam Johnson, next year's star quarterback and this year's bane of my existence, looked up at me with his baby blue eyes. If he was trying to look small and unintimidating, it would have worked better without carrying 200+ pounds of muscle on a six foot frame.

Well, if he wanted to be melodramatic, two could play that game. "You know full well why I called you here, Adam." I thumped the stack of papers on my desk for emphasis. "You've been failing ECON 105 all semester, but suddenly you can score an 83% on the final exam? It's enough to get you D- in this class. It's not a perfect score, but it's still enough for you to avoid academic probation."

His face flashed with a brief moment of irritation before setting back into his normal, casual stupor. "Well, I wasn't studying before, and now I did. It's not like I scored all that great... sir."

"We both know that you don't know what 'sustainability' means, Adam. You tried to fly under the radar, you didn't cheat your way into a 100%... but it's still cheating. We both know that academic misconduct is a serious crime." I tried my best to sound stern and disappointed, but it was hard to be angry at a face this sexy.

Adam just laughed at me. "And if you could prove it, you wouldn't be calling me into a private meeting, would you?" He leaned back into a shit-eating grin, displaying his dazzling white teeth. This asshole had the upper hand, and he knew it.

"I checked every single essay!" I said, pounding the stack of papers once again. "Every essay, in every single TA's session of this class. You didn't plagiarize... but we both know this isn't your style of writing. And we watched you like a hawk during the exam itself, so you didn't cheat that way, either."

Adam leaned close into my face. "Professor Michaels has no idea that you called me in here, does he? You're just a Teaching Assistant on a power trip, and it's all because you can't stand knowing how I did it." He was right, and I hated him for it. Worse, when he stood this close to me, I could smell the musk of his body.

"Tell you what," he added, pulling off his tank top to reveal a set of firm abs. "You let me get away with this... sign off on my scores, whatever you need to do... and I'll let you live out one of your deepest, darkest fantasies." He struck a pose, showing off both his rippling muscles and his hairy pits. "We both know that you'll never get jock cock any other way. Come on, Teach. You want this."

Was I really that easy to read? "I-- I'm sure I don't know what you mean. Look, if you're going to stick to your lie about studying, then you can just leave. I don't... there's no need to insult my moral character. You're a student, Adam."

He responded by leaning in close to me, and placing his hand on top of my bulge. "Your body betrays you," he whispered, letting his fingers massage my inner thigh. "If it makes you feel better, I'm not your student. Adam and I swapped bodies so that I could take all of his final exams."

"I... yes, well..." That was the last thing I expected him to say, but it would explain a lot if it were true, somehow. It seemed much more likely than a desirable athlete like Adam coming onto me, at the very least.

"Be that as it may," I said, grabbing his hand and moving it away before my cock started leaking though my slacks, "that body still belongs to one of my students. And I still have meetings to attend today, so if we're done here..."

Adam, or the stranger in Adam's body, just laughed at me. "You're the one who wanted to have this meeting, remember? But that's fine, I know when I'm not wanted. But here's the thing-- once you submit grades at end of day, Adam's not your student anymore." He started typing something on his phone. "And honestly, I expected this from you. You're so uptight. Good thing you gave everyone your cell phone number on the syllabus at the start of the year. So if you change your mind... now you can have Adam's number, and a bonus pic from me."

"I know you don't know the real me, but trust me Kevin-- I've wanted to plow that uptight hole of your for months. And in this body, I've actually got a shot at it." The stranger slapped my ass before I could react, and swaggered out of the room. Whoever was inside of Adam's body, they knew my first name.

I looked at the retreating wall of shoulder muscles, and down at the teasing bathroom selfie the stranger sent to me. God help me, I was only human. And he was right-- how else was I going to get jock cock? He wasn't a student, not really, and that's what mattered. "You win. Tonight at 8pm, my place. Bring lube."

Check out Part 2 here. Check out Part 3 here.

[queers-gambit]

Affirmation King

prompt: ( requested ) attending university as a full-time student is hard, but your boyfriend makes some of the stress worth it.

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

word count: 3.1k+

note: author gives unsolicited advice in the form of sharing a citation website to make college essays a little easier! this is not meant as promotion or anything, it's just your author trying to share a resource they know of.

warnings: cursing, small hurt large comfort (reader snaps a little at Carmy but he handles it like a fucking pro), author gives unsolicited college advice in the form of a recommended website, reader is in a masters program and not undergrad, fluff.

The 16 inch screen glared into your retinas, fingers feeling numb from the hours pounding away at the loose keyboard. When the screen started to warble and darken, your head ducked down slightly to try and preserve your visual; glaring up at the offender when they pressed the screen closed after forcing you to retract your hands.

"You're cute and all, but not so cute as to interrupt me like that," you deadpanned, eyes wide and burning from your lack of lubrication via blinking.

"You've been sat here for hours, it's time for a break."

"Funny when I say that to you, it's always, 'Get outta my kitchen.'"

Carmy smirked, "Come eat something."

"Let me finish this essay and - "

"No, it's time for a meal."

You felt your irritation spike, narrowing your eyes slightly, "I'm on a deadline, Carmen, so either be fucking helpful and productive or get the fuck out of my space. I've got work to do and you're just slowing me down."

He offered a patient look, asking, "Is that what you really wanted to say?"

You paused, then shook your head, "No... May I try again?"

"Of course," he nodded.

"I appreciate you trying to... Alleviate some of my stress," you spoke slowly, stringing the sentence together in realtime, "but this project isn't something I can ignore right now, so, I'd like to finish this thing before we do whatever else."

"Better," he teased, knowing you ran a short fuse when stressed out and overworked. "What's got you riled up?"

"I have this 20-page paper due."

"20 pages!?"

"It's not that bad, honestly, once you have your thesis together," you chuckled dryly. "it's just time consuming and meticulous."

He frowned and stepped forward to press a kiss to your forehead, mocking in a sarcastic tone, "You're doing amazing, sweetie."

"I'm so tired," you pouted up at him. "Do I really need this degree? This is so much stress for such a little thing such as a piece of paper that cost me $50k just to say I'm allowed to join the work force."

"Hey, hey," he laughed. "Just remember what you're working towards. You're one assignment closer to your internship turning into a full-time gig, right?"

You nodded, "You're right. I want that job so bad... I just hate how busy I feel - it's like, how can I remember to eat let alone write 6 different response posts to my classmate's work?"

Carmy nodded with empathy, "Just remember that end goal, baby. Keep grinding, keep moving. Almost at the finish line, right?"

"Right," you nodded with a smile. "Thank you, angel face."

Carmy smiled at you before softly asking, "Want me to bring you anything? Something to eat, drink, a condom?"

"Stop quoting Mean Girls at me!"

His hands shot up in defense, deflecting, "I was just trying to be a gracious host. If the missus wants anything, I'll make sure she has it."

"Pretty sure 'missus' is a term used for wives - " His groan made you laugh lightly, then covering, "No, thank you, baby, I'm okay. I should only be about another hour or so...?"

"All right, yeah, sure. I'll start dinner in 30, okay?"

"Sure," you smiled, already distracted again as you lifted your screen again to stare at the Word document that had been haunting your hard-drive for about 3 weeks now.

"Hey," he interrupted, "don't forget your glasses."

"Thank you," you mumbled, reaching for the special, blue-light filtering glasses Carmy had gifted you when you first started your Master's program. He claimed staring at a computer screen was going to cause long-term damage (he read an article) and got you a pair, which, you had to admit, made a huge difference.

Your hair was raked into a new bun as you reread the last of your essay, trying to get back in the academic mindset in order to finish the last bit of your assignment. There were textbooks spewed around your work table; laptop plugged in, highlighters and pens and notebooks within reach and a nearly-finished bottle of water was set to the side. You wrote ferociously once you got back on the right mental track, feeling your headache stir to life as you blindly reached for your water bottle.

However, when you picked it up, you blinked in mild shock when the bottle was heavier than before. Glancing over, you realized Carmy had replaced the bottle because there, under where it had sat, he left you a handwritten note:

replenish what you lost from crying!

You chuckled, knowing you were a stress cryer and when tackling big assignments like this, you were ten times as stressed as usual. Still you worked, even putting your headphones on to play soothing background noise - like rainfall. Your neck cramped, back ached, temples throbbed, and hands were cramping. Still you worked, using sticky notes to flag the important quotes you wanted to use from your textbooks and notebooks. Your stomach growled, your eyes begged for reprieve, chest felt tight, and shoulders were too tense.

Still. You. Worked.

Deadlines were important to you, and while you were a professional procrastinator, you always turned everything in on time - no matter your mental state. You could smell whatever Carmy had started cooking, focused on writing as you only used spellcheck as you went - and still you worked. You knew you surpassed the hour limit you told Carmy, but you couldn't stop, you were so close to finishing, it almost put tears back in your eyes, but this time out of relief. You only paused to look at online sources and apply chapstick, cracking your tightly-wound knuckles, and when you finished the last body paragraph of the essay, grinned to yourself.

All that was left was your conclusion, to create a bibliography, and to edit - but you were almost home free!

Suddenly, you jumped in fright when a hand planted on your shoulder; whipping around to see your boyfriend's own startled expression. "Sorry," Carmy apologized with a wince when you removed your headphones, "didn't mean to scare you, just wanted to check on you."

You nodded, 'Yeah, no, I'm almost done. Like give me 20 minutes, almost done-almost done."

He smiled softly, "Dinner's ready when you are."

"I'll be there soon, thank you, angel face."

"Can I help with anything?"

"Uh," you cocked your head, "you know what? Maaaaybe..."

"Really?" He grinned, perking up. "You never let me help!"

"It's not really work, per se," you amended, "but would you mind letting me read this out loud to you - see if it makes sense? The mark of a good writer is to act as if the audience knows nothing about the subject and make them understand, and you're exactly that."

"Lemme hear it," he nodded, taking a seat, "I might not be much help but I can still try."

You agreed and finished typing the outline of your conclusion, then scrolled to the top of your word document, and explained to him what your class was before starting to read. He listened intently, sitting on a spare stool with his elbows resting on his knees; keeping him leaned forward to provide his undivided attention. You managed to reword a few sentences, only noticing they didn't make sense when you read them out loud. Once or twice, Carmy even offered an alternative phrasing you liked - making the changes and rereading, then continuing through your assignment.

By the end, you were able to beef up the conclusion and Carmy was grinning at you in pride. "That's real good, baby," he complimented, "it all made sense and rolled nice together. I think that has to be an 'A'-worthy paper."

"You should be the one grading theses, my professor's the worst," you frowned. "It's why I got so in my head, I got a fucking 76 on my last essay and need to do really well on the next few to help average my grade."

"What about the tests?"

"We don't have any, this class is all about writing material and turning it in," you pouted.

"Hey," he spoke seriously, making you look at him in question, "I'm really proud of you."

You giggled nervously, "Oh, yeah? Why? What for?"

"For doing this," he nodded to the desk. "Look at all you're doing, baby, there's no way I'd ever be able to keep up with this kinda shit. You're doing such a great fucking job - I want you to remember that. What you're doing ain't easy, but you're handling this like a pro."

"I cry, like, everyday..."

"So what? You still get shit done while emoting - call that multitasking, baby."

"Got me there."

"Seriously, though, you're not told enough what a fantastic job you're doing; how strong and resilient you have to be to deal with this kind of stress day-in and day-out. I see the hard work you put in," he promised, "and I want you to know how fucking proud I am of you. It's all gonna be worth it one day, but until then, I love watching you grind through school. I might not take the classes with you, but I'll help however I can, whenever I can."

"Thank you," you whispered. "It's really nice to hear... I feel myself burning out and it's nice to be reminded that what I do now will influence my future. Validates me in feeling stressed out, you know? Sometimes, I feel silly 'cause, like, there's so many bigger things to be upset about and here I am, stressed out at a place that's guaranteed to stress me out..."

"It's not silly, it's normal. College ain't easy," he reminded, "and you're just trying to keep yourself afloat."

"Yeah, but there's bigger things in life than something trivial as my education."

Carmy scoffed at you, shaking his head, "Ain't no way."

"What?"

"My girl just said her feelings are trivial... Nah, she said her emotions about her education is trivial," he shook his head again. "Should wash your mouth out with soap - talkin' crazy like that. Baby, you know, first and foremost, your education is high on our priorities list, but your emotions? You think they're trivial? Nah, if anything causes you to have any emotion, it's valid - it's not something silly or redundant."

You pouted slightly, "You always know what to say."

"Hungry?"

"You're the perfect man," you laughed, looking at your document again and humming. "Okay, so, lemme just cite my sources and turn this in."

"Then you wanna have date night?" He smirked.

"No, no, I'm so tired - "

"I meant we can stay in."

"Oh, then count me in!"

"Change into something cozy when you're done, we can watch a movie with dinner. Yeah?"

You agreed, accepted his kiss of encouragement, and then took his leave to reheat the dinner that had surely cooled off. It didn't take long to cite everything when you used an online citation source website - that IS N O T plagiarizing! It's a handy-dandy tool you discovered your undergraduate freshman year by an actual professor. It was as simple as choosing which style, APA or MLA, and then to either paste the URL of the website you need sourced or you type in the book's information. Hit the generate button and BAM! A perfect citation for your bibliography every single time.

Or if you didn't like that, you could always just Google citation examples and do your best to write it out yourself. But the website, Citation Machine dot net, was a great tool. After perfecting your in-text citations and saving your work, you uploaded it to your university's assignment portal, crossed the essay off your to-do list, and stretched on your feet.

Cleaning up your space minimally, you hustled to your bedroom to get a quick hot, relieving shower, change, and then met Carmy in the kitchen. "Hey," you sighed with a soft smile.

"Hey, doll. All done?"

"For tonight," you groaned, "but tomorrow's a new day with new assignments."

"That's a future problem we'll handle at a later time," he eased, showing you your dinner plate. "Ta-daaaa!"

You grinned, "Oh, baby, this looks amazing!"

"Yeah, well, I kinda figured as a full-time student right now, nobody was gonna remind you what incredible job you're doing, so, I'm more than happy to step up to the plate. And what better treat than your favorite meal, huh?"

"Thank you," you whispered, pecking his lips.

You often thought his love language was "food", but then you realized it was technically under the acts of service and quality time. He loved cooking for you - it was like a gift. He loved cooking with you - it was time spent bonding. He loved introducing you to new dishes - it's a present! He loved when you let him give you a culinary lesson - it was time well spent.

"C'mon," Carmy lead you to the living room, both crashing on the couch you had been gifted from your grandmother's house when she was put in a nursing home. Normally, you wouldn't have splurged on something like this, but considering it was free, you and Carmy were happy to use it. Settling together on the couch, you got cozy under a shared blanket and Carmy flicked some movie on for background noise, but instead of watching, he just asked you about your coursework.

You told him what you could, shaking your head and huffing about how annoying your program was. How hectic. How jam packed and fast-paced it all seemed to be. How your head felt like it was spinning. How you couldn't nail down workable coping mechanisms and just felt totally out of control. You were spiraling.

You needed this rant session.

Carmy listened intently.

He never once tried to say, "oh, but if you had time management," or anything like, "if you do THIS instead..." or some bullshit, "my way works better." His bright and wide blue eyes watched you the entire time, sighing when you got to the end of your meal and vent session.

"It just feels like, I turn in one assignment, I get three more right after. Turn in those three, and all of a sudden, there's another 10!"

"Does the syllabus say anything about that?" He wondered.

"No, it just said what our reading schedules were and when major assignments are due. But those dates all got shuffled around that it feels like a train wreck. You know, if the original schedule was kept from the syllabus, I wouldn't feel so worked up! It's the rearrangement and added assignments without warning that's throwing me off."

"That doesn't sound easy," he validated. "Anything I can do to help?"

"No, you're doing more than enough," you whispered, pecking his lips. "Thank you for dinner."

"I made dessert, too."

"No!" You gasped with a grin.

"Mhm - wait here. I'll grab it."

"Wow, dinner, movie, and dessert?" You teased, "I'm being spoiled tonight."

"You've been working your ass off for weeks now," he smirked, standing from his seat to pick up your plates, "this is the least I could do. I know I said it, but you know how good a job you're doing, right? Damn, baby," he chuckled, "ain't no way I could ever handle shit like that on the regular."

"I could't do what you do, either."

"We all balance our crazy different. Want some tea? Wine?"

"Tea would be great."

"Comin' up."

When Carmy returned, you pulled the blanket back to let him sit again with the dessert plate between you both; two steaming mugs of tea sat on the coffee table. "What's this?" You wondered, seeing a sort of pastry.

"Marcus told me 'bout this," he chuckled. "Kinda like a poor man's version of this one thing he makes. So, look, it's Pillsbury Crescent Rolls, right? In the middle, there's raspberry preserves - or jam if you want that instead. It's baked then drizzled in melted white chocolate."

"Wow, you got all fancy on me," you beamed.

"Hardly, more like I was a little impulsive after hearing your essay. Figured you could use some dessert - you really earned it, baby. You always earn dessert," he grinned, "but tonight, you were kickass. Know that? Hear me?"

You shook your head, "This is nothing compared - "

"Hey, hey, nah," he interrupted, "nah, nah, don't do that, don't try to invalidate or downplay yourself. Look, shit is always hard in college, right? But you handle it so well, I can see the work you're putting in and the little reward you receive in return, and know that shit's gotta add up for you. But my baby just keeps cool, does her work, and does what she can to earn the grades she does. Right?"

"I mean, I try to..."

"You succeed. C'mon, lemme hear you say it. 'I kick college's ass.'"

"I kick college's ass."

"'I work hard.'"

"Carmy - "

"Saaay it!"

You huffed, "I work hard."

"'I'm an incredible hard worker.'"

"I'm an incredible hard worker."

"'I am only human.'"

Another breath in, repeating, "I am only human."

"'I am a success.'"

"I try to be a success."

"That wasn't the quote."

"Well, I don't know if I'm succeeding because grades aren't finalized yet and I have - "

"No, no, no," he smirked again, "you're still successful 'cause you're doing such a kickass job. You could get a fucking 'D' on something, and guess what? You're still successful 'cause you don't let this tear you down, you learn from mistakes and apply whatever lessons you learn to your upcoming assignments. Some people say you might even learn more from losing and failing than from undisputed success. Look, I'll be honest, I thought my job was hectic as shit, but hearing your essay tonight? Goddamn, you're not just beautiful, but so fucking intelligent, too. Baby, I was shook - that sounded like some academic paper that college kids need to defend their thesis or some shit. Something scholarly, not some assignment you gotta hand in by a deadline so you just wrote down whatever. So, give yourself credit and tell yourself you're a success."

With a long, deep breath, you answered earnestly, "I'm a success."

"Good girl," he muttered, handing you a fork finally. However, unlike Mikey all those years ago, you didn't launch your utensil at anyone and used it to cut off a corner of pastry.

You moaned when you tasted the gooey goodness. You managed through a mouthful, "Mmhhh! Mhm! Mhm! If you make this every time I have some assignment pissing me off and stressing me out, I'm afraid I'll get used to this treatment."

Carmy grinned, "You deserve whatever dessert you want, whenever you want. Huh? Yeah? Lemme hear you say it."

With another grin, you mused, "I deserve whatever I want, when I want it... And however I want it!"

"Atta girl!"

"You're so fucking corny," you laughed lightly, feeling as if you were falling in love with him again, "but thank you, my Affirmation King."

requesting rules and masterlist

The Bear masterlist

[ayeyolooo]

Gold grillz

Okay I fed y’all I gotta focus on school now my babies 😞!

Pt2

"of course ma'am." You said taking your essay and walking back to your seat. This was your last class of the day before you could go home.You sighed as you plopped down in your seat having your skirt fly up just a little. You read over the annotations that the teacher made on your paper. You exhaled through your nose as you pack to pack up everything after looking at your Apple Watch,seeing what time it was.

You pushed your black framed glasses up on your face and pulled out a piece of gum from your purse and popping it in your mouth. You balled up the paper and put it back inside of your purse. "Psst,what did you get on your paper?" The boy that sat a seat away from you asked.You seen how beautiful his dark chocolate skin was. His was something like ony something you couldn't quite say his name. "Oh I got a 5." You sighed showing him your paper.

He grabbed it having his tatted hand be shown.

"Damn.." he chuckled. You cut your eye at him having him cough to cover up the laugh. He handed you his paper and you seen that he had gotten a ten. "Oh wow." You said looking at the little to no annotations he had on his paper."You're so lucky,I hate writing papers. I couldn't write one to save my life." You scoffed standing up,pulling your skirt down in the back and waiting for the boy. "I mean all you gotta to is practice ma. And get a lil more help. I read over yo paper." He said.

"It ain't that bad,but it's the way you placed your words." He said shrugging. "Here how bout I help you during lunch?" He asked grinning showing off his gold grills. 'Lordddd have mercyyy.' You nodded with a smile. The both of you walked towards the cafeteria, he opened the door for you and you thanked him before smiling at him."So what's ya name?" He asked running his hands over his waves. "Y/n, yours?" He just nodded and smiled at you, smiling his dimples pop. "You can call me Ony." He said licking his lips. "Okay." You said with a little smile.

"So how long have you been attending c/n?" You asked grabbing a piece of fruit and a juice,because them lunch ladies won't let you leave the line til you got one of both. "I just kinda got here." He said clearing his throat."Ohh." You said pushing one of your curls behind your hair.

[1025flora]

skz as your best friend who is (not so) secretly in love with you

genre fluff , humor pairing ot8 skz x !femreader warnings not proofread

chan

"oh yeah yn is my best friend actually"

literally obsessed.

tries to hide the delulu (not good at it)

tells you about every single project he's working on

honestly just get married already???

most people think you're actually dating...

became your friend because he thought you were pretty, but stayed your friend because of a thousand other reasons

definitely takes notes for you when you're out

lots of dimple smiles when you do literally anything???

minho

quiet in public, but the world time yapping champion when its just you two

will say the most cruel and slanderous thing while looking at you with the most loving eyes

texts random bad selfies with no context

gags and scoffs when people suggest you two as an item, but on the inside he's eeking

"send me that pic of you from earlier"

you may or may not be the only person on his private story

attends every single event you're involved in, no matter how inconvenient it would be for him

soonie, doongie, and dori adore you

changbin

buddy (romantic)

thinks about you every second of his day

"hey look what i made!!"

needs everybody to know that you are his best friend

"she even asked me for the time..." *fist pump*

doesn't pressure you to go to the gym with him but he reeeaaaallyyyyyy wants you to

"do u hate me" texts in the middle of the night

swings his legs when you guys call

waits for you outside your classes so you can walk in between periods together

wants to be nonchalant and cool and mysterious about you SO BAD but he fails

hyunjin

ouh this man is delulu!!!

has your future lives planned out in a pinterest board

sketches you in class

"hey babe" when you are BOTH single

late night grocery store runs for no reason... he just likes how you look at night

"i forgot my wallet🥺" typa man

fully convinced you do not and will not love him romantically

a textbook hopeless romantic

will wait for you outside in any weather. coldfront, heatwave, rain, shine, that man is THERE

all the nicknames... like definitely calls you "blondie" if you're blonde

jisung

so nervous around you even though you two are best friends???

writes songs for you all the time, terrified to show you

one day wishes to sing every single one to you

"good morning!" "how was your day pook?!" "good night <3" every. single. day. never misses

prefers to just stay in and talk with you, about anything

"bbama misses youuuu" whenever you aren't at his house

you do make him flustered most of the time

a couple playlists made just for you tucked in his spotify library

wants to call you all the couple names but afraid you'll hate it

talks about you with the guys (they are SICK of it)

his thoughts towards you are just the lyrics of gorgeous by taylor swift

felix

tells you absolutely EVERYTHING

5 paragraph essay about his day every night

and yes expects the exact same from you...

you text on discord (sorry)

makes treats just for you in secret

in any setting that you aren't in, he calls you his

makes video memos for you when you're gone and secretly hopes you'll do the same

his sisters tease him daily about how he talks about you, but he doesn't care

wants everybody but you to know he loves you

his second favorite color is your favorite color

seungmin

all of the confidence and sly in his attitude vanishes as soon as you walk into the room

your personal butler

holds your hand just 'cause

"this would look so good on you"

you two share headphones everywhere

head on your shoulder, chin on your shoulder, oh and definitely elbow on your shoulder

matches his jewelry to yours

at karaoke, he points and sings at you for the love songs, but you usually think he's joking

will love you unconditionally forever, even if you never feel the same

jeongin

"but you looked hot...? why are you changing"

weirdly confident around you, like his attitude changes when you walk into the room

loves to do your makeup, and vice versa

he jokes so much that you think he's sarcastically in love, little do you know it's all from the heart

brings you coffee every morning at school/work

"this song reminded me of you"

makes sure your outfits coordinate

pays for EVERYTHING

you are his princess!!!!! in every sense of the word!!!

a/n omg first post here..... hope u guys like it 🙏 reblog or like if you read puhlease

[callivich]

Callliii, in spirit of that post floating around, do you know of any scenarios where Lip would be mistaken as Mickey's husband. (almost said wife.) and how that would play out?

Comet! I loved (@whatwouldmickeydo) Leah’s post about this. I think @em-harlsnow did a perfect job of writing what might happen in only you (not your brother) 💖

But I love the idea of this so much so here are some possible other scenarios:

Ian, Mickey, Lip and Tami are doing a big shop at a grocery store. It’s for all the family so Ian and Tami wander off at one point - they’re focused on the lists they’ve written and Lip and Mickey are left standing awkwardly with the shopping cart, Fred sat in the child’s seat. Silence. Annoyance. Both of them hate waiting. Mickey’s curled over the other end of the cart, texting Ian furiously about leaving him here with Lip. Meanwhile, a person passes by and notes the contents of their cart - everyday items and a baby - they decide to compliment this nice couple and their sweet son. It goes badly….

Ian and Mickey have hired Lip to work for their security business. It’s Mickey’s turn to have Lip as a co-worker for the day. They’re first stop is a new business. They’re not that familiar with the security guys and assume Lip and Mickey are husbands because they’ve heard that the security guys are married. Cue horror and disgust.

Liam has a parent teacher night and one of his siblings needs to be there. There’s all sorts of miscommunication and Lip and Mickey both turn up. Whatever. They’ll both go and listen to each teacher tell them how great Liam is. The thing is, Liam has recently written an essay on his family (including mentioning his brother and his brother’s husband) and all his teachers incorrectly assume Lip is Ian. Mickey didn’t think he could hate school any more. But he can.

It’s a night out for Lip, Tami, Ian and Mickey. They start off at a bar, then go to a club, then another club and finally they end up at a gay club. Everyone apart from Lip is drunk. Ian and Tami want to dance so they leave Mickey and Lip at a table. A very confident guy comes up to flirt with Lip who quickly says he’s taken. The guy looks at Mickey who loudly says “not by me he ain’t” with a look of disgust. Lip gets offended. Ian and Tami come back to the table to find Lip and Mickey two seconds away from a fight.

The Gallaghers + Mickey, Sandy and Tami included take a trip to the carnival. Fun! Right? Except for the fact that Ian’s feeling a little sick. Must have been those snacks he ate. He asks Lip to tell Mickey that he doesn’t wanna go on the romantic tunnel of love ride that Mickey’s currently queuing for. Mickey’s phone has died so Ian can’t text. Fuck, ok. So off Lip goes and somehow ends up in the boat with Mickey thanks to the ride attendant who doesn’t believe they’re not a couple. Lip becomes the only person ever to ‘fall’ in to the water of the tunnel of love ride.

[writtenbymisunderstoodnerds]

You didn't actually think I would miss this, did you? (Tobin Heath x Reader)

Just a short little fic for Tobin's birthday. Not really edited so mind any mistakes. Hope you enjoy!

Between work getting busy and studying, life has been busy lately so writing has unfortunately been put on the back burner so fics might take longer than usual. My final essay is due in less than 2 weeks so hopefully I'll have more time to write after that!

Words: 1.4k

Y/n: Nobody on earth can make me feel the way you do. Everyday I wake up you continue to amaze me in every way possible. Your kindness, empathy and compassion are what make you the most amazing woman I've ever known. Please never stop being the beautiful, confident and sexiest person that I am madly in love with. Everyday I am blessed to have you by my side. I hope today is filled with love, friendship, surprises and fun. Thank you for going through life with me. Happy birthday my love. I love you today and always.

Toby: Thank you baby. There's no one I'd rather go through life with than you. I love you so much.

Toby: I wish you were here with me today... I miss you

Y/n: I miss you too Toby. We'll see each other soon. I'm sure you'll have an amazing day regardless. I wanted to have this text ready for you to wake up to, but I got busy :(

Toby: It's okay, facetime later?

Y/n: Wouldn't miss it. I have to go, but I'll message you a bit later. I love you

It was Tobin's birthday today. We had been together for 7 years and this was the first birthday that we would be apart for. Since we started dating, we had always made sure to be with each other on our birthdays. This year though, I was playing in Europe meaning I couldn't be there this year. Well that's what she thought anyway. I was out for a couple of weeks with an injury and coach had agreed that I could return to the states as long as I kept up with physio. 

Tobin's birthday happened to fall in the middle of a national team camp. One that I couldn't attend due to being injured. I knew they would be planning something so I had reached out to Ali to let her know I was surprising Tobin. I trusted her to not let it slip and she was able to keep me updated on their plans so I could surprise her. I didn't want to miss her whole birthday, instead I had found a flight that would get me there in time to surprise her at lunch. 

I got through security as quickly as possible. Knowing I was so close to seeing Tobin again was making me impatient. This was probably the longest we had gone without seeing each other. I hated it, but playing internationally had always been a dream of mine. They had organized lunch in the meal room at the hotel seeing as there were so many of them. I quickly dropped my stuff in Tobin's hotel room and cleaned myself up a bit before heading down to the meal room. 

Ali had organized a game of guess the person. Tobin was blindfolded and had to guess who was in front of her based on the feel of their hands and face. The girls smiled widely when they saw me, somehow managing to not completely freak out. I watched Tobin go through a few more of them. There was a wide smile on her face, the corners of her eyes no doubt crinkling. I knew pretty much all of Tobin's expressions at this point, even without properly seeing them. It made me happy knowing that even though she was missing me, she was still able to have fun and be genuinely happy. 

After a few minutes, I stepped up to Tobin, placing her hand on my arm first then my face. I knew there was a high chance that once she felt either of my hands she would know it was me. Besides the years of almost constant hand holding, I had a scar on one of my hands that was very noticeable.

I lent into her touch, enjoying the feeling after almost six months away from her. That must have been a give away, because her hand froze briefly before moving to my eyebrow that also had a scar then my left hand. She ripped the blindfold off, eyes wide as she stared at me in shock. 

"Y/n!" Tobin pretty much squealed, jumping up, arms wrapping around me as she jumped up, legs around my waist, "You're here, you're actually here."

"You didn't seriously think I would miss your birthday did you?"

Tobin kissed me hard, filled with passion and love. I knew the team were watching, fake gags coming from them, but I did care as I cupped the back of her head, not letting her move until we were both out of breath. Tobin watched me for a few seconds before speaking, "I love you so much. How long do I have you for?"

Reluctantly, I put her down, feeling my knee starting ache, "A couple of weeks. Pretty much until I'm ready to join practice again as long as I keep up with physio here."

Since there weren't any real plans for after lunch, Tobin and I snuck off to the room. We didn't do anything other than cuddle and make out a little bit. I was exhausted from my flight, all I wanted to do was hold her after months apart. When Tobin eventually had to go to the bathroom, I got the piece of paper and ring box from my bag. I quickly hid the ring box as Tobin came back into the room. I still wasn't sure if I was going to propose right now with just the two of us or do something with the team later. I wanted to have it with me for when I decided the time was right.

"I got you something."

"You didn't have to, just being here is enough."

"Shush and take it. I think you're going to like this."

I handed her a piece of paper. She read over it slowly before jumping on me, peppering kisses across my face, "You're coming back?!? We get to play together again?"

"I'm coming back. I still have to be there for a couple more months though. I love playing for arsenal, it's been a great experience, but it's not worth how much I miss you." 

A few tears fell down her cheeks as she kissed me slowly before a smile stretched across her face, interrupting the kiss. Her smile was one of my favourite sights so I wasn't mad about it, "You are amazing, I love you Y/n."

"I love you Toby." 

Once again I found myself watching her. Taking in her smile, the way her eyes crinkled, the dimples I was obsessed with, her beautiful eyes that I could look at forever and the short hair that drove me crazy. It was my first time seeing it in person, I had ran my fingers through it countless times already and was currently resisting the urge to do it again. I loved her more than I thought it was possible to love another person. She was the person I craved, the first person I thought of when I woke up or before I went to sleep, the first person I wanted to tell when anything happened. She was the person I wanted by my side for the rest of my life. 

"I meant what I said in my text."

"Which part?"

"All of it. Even after 7 years, you still make my heart race, butterflies and sparks to explode at even the slightest touch. No one has even made me feel the way you do and no one else ever will. I thank everything in this world that you chose me, that I get to be with you and love you every day. You are the only person I want by myside through everything life throws our way. The good, bad, funny, messy, whatever it is, it will be okay because I have you. I am so madly in love with you Tobin Powell Heath, I want to do life with you for as long as you'll have me. Will you marry me?"

Tobin launched forward before I could even get the ring box. She hugged me tightly, tears landing against my neck, "Yes, yes, a thousand times yes. I love you so fucking much Y/n."

My own tears fell, the happiness bubbling over as I chuckled, "Can I get the ring now?"

"You got me a ring?"

I reached under the pillow for the ring box, opening it for Tobin to see. It was just a simple rose gold band, it fit who she was and the type of style she liked. She grinned widely as I easily slipped it onto her finger, "Of course I did. I've been planning to do this for months now. Only the best for my girl or should I say fiancé?"

"God I can't wait to marry you Y/n."

[shanastoryteller]

HAPPY PRIDE!! 🌈🏳️‍🌈 Could we get some Quinn and Snape SIAT content? Or dealers choice. Thanks!!

Quinn attends Hogwarts for the potions program.

Zir parents are aurors and are hesitant to send zir to a school that can’t keep a defense professor for more than a year. They consider sending zir to a school in South America that zir grandmother had attended that produces some of the best curse breakers in the world, but that’s not what Quinn wants.

Ze doesn’t care if the defense program is shit. It’s not like zir mother can’t teach zir anything she really wants zir to know. Ze loves potions and ze’s going to be a potions master and ze wants every advantage there is for zir to have.

Which means ze has to attend Hogwarts. Ze has to learn potions from Severus Snape.

Quinn has heard about all the things he supposedly did during the war from zir parents. At length. Ze doesn’t even care if all of it’s true – war criminal or not, Snape is the best potions master currently teaching and not swallowed up and hidden away by some sort of high paying lab, which is where most of them disappear to.

~

Slytherin? ze asks the sorting hat hopefully.

The hat cackles at zir. Ambition for knowledge? You know quite well where you belong.

I don’t like being forced into boxes, ze grumbles.

The hat almost sounds warm when it says, Then don’t be.

“RAVENCLAW!”

~

Snape is a deeply unpleasant professor.

He’s also brilliant and Quinn has never let the threat of something blowing up in zir face stop zir from pursuing zir goal.

Ze steps takes one step into the classroom during his office hours and Snape doesn’t even look up from grading to say, “Get out.”

“You can’t kick me out yet when I haven’t even said anything yet!” ze protests.

Snape still doesn’t look up. “You have the highest grade in your year, even if you have melted two cauldrons. You don’t need to be here.”

“It’s not like anyone else is going to show up,” ze says. Snape has office hours because he’s required to, but kids have to be really desperate to show up to them. Ze has been reliably informed that Tonks in Hufflepuff is zir only possible competition for Snape’s time. It should be a good thing.

Snape sighs. Quinn counts it a victory. He stabs his wand at the blackboard and familiar writing appears across it. “Make this. Don’t melt the cauldron.”

Ze frowns. “This can’t be right. Um, I think some of the steps are missing.”

“If you can’t do it,” he says blandly, “then leave.”

Oh, it is on.

~

“Snape is the worst and he hates me,” Cedric says pitifully. “Please help me with the potions essay.”

Well, he did say please.

“He’s not that bad,” Quinn says, which isn’t what ze intended to say.

Cedric frowns and Quinn changes the subject before he can ask.

Snape hasn’t gotten nicer. But he doesn’t try and kick Quinn out of office hours and he doesn’t yell at zir when ze fucks up the potion or use it as an excuse to stop zir from coming. Ze’s set off three minor and two not so minor explosions in the potions classroom by now and real damage and injury have only been avoided by Snape moving really fast for someone who doesn’t look like he’s paying attention to what Quinn is doing. But he doesn’t get mad. He just vanishes the potion and tells zir to do it again.

Which probably looks really mean to everyone else. But if he’s trying to get Quinn to give up, then – then ze thinks he’d be doing it differently. So maybe making zir make potions with only half the recipe is him trying to help.

Or maybe Quinn is experiencing Stockholm Syndrome. Whatever.

~

“Severus,” ze says at his next office hours, “what am I supposed to be learning? Am I doing it right? I’m sorry I keep blowing things up.”

That’s what finally gets him to lift his head from his desk. “What did you just call me, Quinn Silva?”

Ze doesn’t have a title that ze likes using, so professors just use zir first or last name on its own. Except when Sna – Severus gets pissy, he seems to need more syllables, and then zir first and last names gets busted out. Ze’s never telling him zir middle name.

“I know this is as close as you get to being nice so we’re friends now,” ze answers. “Please tell me what I’m supposed to be doing.”

“You’re eleven,” he says, which is pointless because Quinn never said ze wasn’t. “No.”

“If you need time to adjust, that’s fine,” ze says. “Why do you have me making potions from guess work? It’s not like I won’t have access to recipes later.”

Severus sighs, going back to grading. This definitely counts as a victory. “Do you want to have the ability to replicate the work of others? Or do you want to be capable of creating work that others are unable to replicate?”

“The second one,” ze answers, zir pulse jumping just at the idea of it.

“Then get comfortable with things blowing up in your face,” he says, “and get to work.”

Quinn grins.

Severus is awesome, actually.

[theemporium]

Can you write something where reader is overworked and Steve finds her asleep among the books? Idk just seemed cute...

this is the most self-projecting thing i have ever written bwdjkdjbewkb ANYWAYS

.

It was a lot. 

You always knew it would be a lot but this was just beyond anything you had ever expected, or maybe you just weren’t prepared for it. Maybe you weren’t cut out for college and all the assignments and classes and work. Maybe you were in over your head. 

You knew pretty early on you wanted to go to college. You wanted to be the first person in your family to go into further education. You wanted a degree with your name and achievements on it. It was all you had ever really expected from yourself. 

You set the standard and now you were struggling to meet it. 

The jump from high school to college was no joke but you thought you were coping. And for a while, you were. You were staying on top of assignments, you had a planner to help you remember classes and deadlines, and you were balancing a social life pretty damn well. 

But then you missed a class. 

And then you missed two. 

And the next thing you knew, you were drowning in essays and presentations and modules and you couldn’t take it. You could barely handle the limited social interactions that attending class required alone, let alone everything else on top. 

But you were stubborn and you didn’t want to burden anyone, and you kept it all in. You put a smile on your face, gave your cookie-cutter answers when someone asked how college was going and only allowed yourself to break down behind closed doors. 

Steve knew you better than you knew yourself, and he knew just how much pressure you put on yourself. 

He could see it on your face as the weeks went by, the way you would dissociate in large groups of people or the way you would always be picking at your nail beds when you were away from your books too long, like it was killing you inside to be wasting time anywhere but your desk. 

But he was a patient man, and he cared about you a lot so he waited. He waited for you to say something. He waited for you to open up to him. 

You never did, though. And he had a pretty good idea why. 

It broke his heart to see the girl he loved slowly kill herself with stress and anxiety, and it killed him to know he couldn’t do anything beyond reminding you to eat three meals a day and stay hydrated. 

He hated that you couldn’t see the girl he saw. When you saw flaws and mistakes, he just saw you. 

You, as a whole. You, as one of the most determined people he has ever met. You, as the girl who was worth so much more than she assumed. 

It was how he found himself at your doorstep, fist raised to knock on the door as he waited for you to answer. Thursdays had always been your date night—both because it was the one day you didn’t have any classes and Steve’s guaranteed day off from Family Video after cutting a deal with Robin. 

When you didn’t answer after a minute, Steve was worried. 

When you didn’t answer after five minutes, Steve was really concerned. 

It barely broke into the sixth minute before he was using his spare key and letting himself in. 

But the thumping of his racing heart quickly calmed down when he burst through the door as saw your head laid on the desk, a variety of open books scattered across the surface and a pen laying next to your now limp hand. 

He paused, a soft smile on his face as he took in the sight of how peaceful you looked. No worry lines or furrowed brows, no biting your lips or chewing on the inside of your cheek. 

Just you finally catching a break. 

And then his heart twinged with guilt and concern when he realised this was probably the first break you gave yourself, and it wasn’t willingly. You had probably exhausted yourself—Steve knew how unreliable your sleep schedule was when you were stressed—and he hated that it reached the point of you passing out on your books to get you to take a break.

As softly as he could, he shrugged off his jacket and shoes before he made his way over to you, knowing he hated that he had to wake you up but hated even more the idea of you sleeping in such an awkward position and hurting your back. 

“Sweetheart,” he called out softly, his thumb gently pushing some hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear. “C’mon, baby.” 

You let out a small whine, your nose scrunching up. 

“I know, baby, I know,” he cooed softly as his thumb skimmed across your cheek in slow strokes. 

“Steve?” you murmured, still half-asleep and almost convinced you had conjured an image of your boyfriend. 

“I’m sorry for waking you up, pretty girl,” he spoke just above a whisper, his eyes taking in the sight of the bags under your eyes and his guilt grew tenfold. “Oh baby, when was the last time you slept?” 

Your head still felt a little fuzzy as you sat up in your chair, eyebrows furrowed together as you tried to grasp the reality of the world around you. “Uh, Sunday?” 

Steve frowned. “Baby, what day do you think it is?” 

“Monday?” 

Steve’s face softened immediately and the boy wasted no time in taking your face in his hands, a soft kiss pressed on your forehead that made you close your eyes to enjoy the embrace. 

“C’mon, we are getting you to bed,” he whispered against your skin, and almost instantly he felt your body tense. He knew exactly where this was going, the words that were about to leave your lips and he refused to let you push yourself any further than you already had. 

“Steve–” 

“Nope, come on now,” he said as he pulled you up from your seat, his hands wrapping around your body and holding you close to him before you could wiggle out of his grasp. “It’s my week to choose a date and I am choosing a nap.” 

Your face fell and he could see the guilt in your eyes. “It’s Thursday?”

“Yeah, baby,” he murmured softly, one hand catching your face before you could turn away. “Hey, listen, it’s okay. We all forget sometimes.” 

“I just—” you let out a staggered breath. “I was working on my assignment for that stupid history class and then I forgot I had a presentation in my Spanish class and I swore it was only Tuesday, at least and—”

“Hey, baby, breathe f’me,” he murmured as he held your face in his hands. “It’s okay, I get it. I do. But baby, you gotta give yourself a break or you’re gonna kill yourself.” 

You sighed, leaning into his touch. “Steve, I can’t—” 

“You can and you will,” Steve stated and gave you a firm look. “This isn't doing you any good. You need to rest that big brain of yours.”

Your lips twitched upwards. “I just don’t know how to handle it all.” 

“We’ll work it out together, okay? After a nap though,” he murmured and pressed another kiss to the top of your head. “I miss sleeping with my pretty girl in my arms.” 

He was thoroughly amused to see the way your cheeks burned up at his words. 

“Yeah, I guess I missed your hugs too.” 

“Damn right you did,” Steve grinned proudly. “I’m your best pillow.” 

You let out a small snort, the sound soothing something in his chest that didn’t make him feel like a fist was clenching his heart.

“We can even order from that Mexican place in town when we wake up.” 

“Really?”

“Really, now get that cute ass on the bed now, baby.”

.

[jewish-vents]

I’m so stressed about Israel and Palestine and it feels like it’s constantly weighing on me. I don’t understand what’s going on and I feel like there’s so much venom out there claiming the other side is lying that I don’t even know where to look. Sometimes I feel like I’m too pro-Palestine for other Jews and too pro-Israel for non-Jews, but I don’t feel like I can trust any of the information that made me take those positions either.

Plus I’m not very observant, never have been, so even though my father and my maternal grandfather were both raised Jewish I feel like a fake Jew. I’m trying to become more observant (keeping kosher, celebrating Shabbat, etc) but the rest of my family isn’t (I still live with my parents) and it makes it a lot harder, though it’s gotten better recently. But since I don’t even go to synagogue I feel like I don’t have the right to call myself a Jew.

All of this has been even worse over the last few days because I have an assignment to write an essay about how 1984 (the book) is still relevant today, and the only topic that feels remotely doable is governments using war to keep power, and what immediately came to mind for me was Netanyahu. But the idea of deliberately seeking out news articles about Israel makes me feel horribly anxious and I just don’t know what to do. It doesn’t help that the assignment would be difficult enough without considering that.

Can you give any advice or even just words of comfort? I’m really tired.

First of all, you are not a fake Jew. Your Jewish identity is valid. There are parts of ritual life that you might not be able to fully participate in, if you started attending synagogue, depending on what synagogue you joined, but you are 100% a part of the Jewish community.

So my first piece of advice is to reach out to the Jewish community. It doesn't have to be through a synagogue. You can look for local Jewish clubs or youth groups. If there isn't a group you feel comfortable reaching out to in your area, look for something online.

There's a pretty wide range of opinions on Israel in the Jewish community, and you shouldn't have too much trouble finding a group that supports the well being of both Israelis and Palestinians, or that hates Netanyahu.

My other piece of advise (if this is posted fast enough; sorry. We have a very full inbox and don't necessarily answer submissions in the order we receive them.) Is to choose a different topic for your essay. There's no reason to invite stress into your life if you don't need to.

Surveillance is always a good topic, and if you want to talk about governments controlling populations, about re-writing history to fit an agenda, about creating enemies to be a focus of hate...

Well, there's plenty to talk about here at home. -🐞

[meraki-yao]

Oh people have been racist towards Taylor for a very long time. They can't even hide it well. On Twitter they also complain when he does something dedicated to the film because he looks obsessed and will not do anything else in his career after this film while Nick will have many projects. What I hate most is that they use Nick to bring him down every single time when he wouldn't approve of any of this crap towards Taylor. I'm not making anything up unfortunately. Who knows why T protects himself by staying completely away from that place, right? It's been full of shit towards him since TKB not to mention the details of his private life put all over the place in various threads. It's horrible I don't know how he can stand it.

...Oh God.

That's what I hate most about this shit show too: comparing Taylor to Nick and bringing him down. I have a lot of experience being compared to my own friends, and it's an awful, awful feeling that took me a long time and a lot of growing up to navigate and cope with healthily. And while I believe the boys are mature enough and truly love and respect each other to not do this, things like these do tend to put a rift in relationships and I never want to see that for them.

And exactly. Nick has repeatedly praised Taylor both on his performance and him as a person, colleague and friend. Nick (and Matthew) would be the first to defend Taylor if he saw people saying Taylor was bad (which I hope he didn't, as naive as it may be I just really want the boys to stay away from the negativity)

The film has a special and personal place for Taylor, with the weight of the story itself, how much he connects to Alex, his first leading role, the missed premiere and press because of the timing and the unfortunate passing of his sister. Of course he wants to do something about it. We, as humans, will carry things this important to us for a long, long time, possibly for the rest of our lives. He's gonna carry RWRB with him for a long, long time, rightfully so. Plus it's just been two months, and we're all still freaking hyped about the movie, of course he can do stuff about it. It's already a lot less than what he, what they could have had and done because of the strike. On top of that, signing books and talking a bit about the film with fans is more for us, the fans than himself. And he has been doing other stuff! He can't do anything acting related because of the strike, but he pretty much spent the entirety of last month attending fashion events, which, mind you, is also his job.

I literally can't say anything more about racism other than it's just objectively wrong, racists are shit people, and he doesn't deserve it. (no one does, really.)

Unfortunately, we're not them so we can't protect the boys from seeing things, only they can. And we need to trust them to do so.

But I will say this.

The comments that spawn from things like racism and hatred, there is no actual value. Yes, it hurts to see and hear, but there isn't anything backing it up, there is no evidence to back up these claims. There are, ultimately, empty.

The love and support we have for him/them? Spawn from our reaction to seeing them. Their performances, their interviews, their photoshoots. We write countless essays here explaining and analysing them. Everything we say, every praise we have, didn't come from nowhere. It came from the boys themselves. There's a reason we adore their performance, their relationship, their personality, and we can point to it.

And because of that, our support and love are far more substantial than the hate and hurtful comments, and therefore infinitely more meaningful and worthwhile. We need to remember this, and show the boys our love. That's the only practical and constructive way to combat the stupid hate. We ignore the comments, because their "opinions" are baseless and ultimately meaningless, and we show the boys the support and love that they rightfully deserve.

[alegacyofmonsters]

Legacies 1x05 Rewatch:

The Dryad, I've missed her

I actually love how they show the evolution of the school with stuff like adapting to monsters and giving the students a voice

No because who takes over Raf's spot on the Honor Council when he dies

"YoU'rE nOt GoNnA lOsE tHe ElEcTiOn OvEr An OuTfIt." Why is it so hard for Josie to just support her sister for once.

"Lizzie Saltzman only cares about Lizzie Saltzman." You mean the Lizzie Saltzman, who does everything for her sister and sacrifices her life over and over again for every other student in that school?

"You still like it when I went low." "Oh, honey, you crush on me." Posie needed more than one season.

"We're not negotiating. Right, Ric?" "Uh ..." Dorian as headmaster would have been a great storyline.

Watching Rafael and Jed spar makes me realize that Finch never got to meet Rafael. What a wasted opportunity.

" You're mocking me." "Yeah but just a little bit." When I say Dorian and Alaric had more chemistry with the Dryad than they did with Emma or Mac ...

" Sometimes in the human world telling the truth can do more harm than good." OH THIS IS ABOUT THE MERGE. MM HMM.

"I see it in their smiles, in their laughter. I still see her sometimes." Going to cry thinking about that last scene in TVD

"You straight up refuse to swim across the lake." "Excuse the foster kid for never having swim lessons." And now he literally lives, immortal, ferrying across a lake.

Testing his ability to get away from you as fast as possible, Hope? Little Miss Hold on Tight?

So if Malivore's DNA showed up as literally everything, why did Landon's DNA show no supernatural history? Why didn't it raise any red flags?

"It's so nice to know you all love me as much as I thought you did." She's a comedian because I know she knows those kids hate her ass. They attended a book club reading of her diary. They laughed at her funeral. They did NOT love her and she knew it.

"Jackass Jed." If there's one thing the Saltzman twins know how to do best it's come up with nicknames.

"Say no more. I know how much it means to you and I would be happy to help." She needs a hug.

Tell me again how it's Lizzie who's getting in the way of Josie's romantic life?

What is the SBS sex ed class like because the amount of STD jokes those students make is kind of wild.

Not Josie giving away Lizzie's pink sweater ... like we never even got to see her wear it before you did that ...

"I've always wanted to be part of a power couple." Oh boy do I have news for you Lizzie

No, because Handon's "I don't want to be special" x "I need to be special" dynamic is so delicious

"You know, you can only hold out hope for so long and be hurt by so many people before it starts to seems impossible to trust someone new." "Do you trust me?" "Of course I do." Handizzie excellence.

Why did they have to do S1 Jed so dirty

"I'm trying to rise above it. So let me freaking rise."

"I'm a tribrid. The only one of my kind. No one can represent my interests but me." So does Lizzie finally get her spot on the council after becoming a heretic?

Did the Honor Council just disappear after Hope was forgotten??

Imagine if Lizzie had brought the truth orb with her when she hunted down Hope and confessed to being in love with her

Josie using her father and her sister almost dying since Landon arrived as an excuse to kick him out is kind of funny when you remember that later she kills her sister and doesn't care when her father stuck in a coma and on his death bed.

"This school is family." Guess nobody there can like each other now

That's TWO magical trees in the Legacies universe now ...

"What did I ever do to make you hate me so much?" No because one day I will write an essay on how all of Josie's love interests end up hating Lizzie for no reason and/or misinformed reasons and there's one common denominator.

"It's not about you. It's about how you treat Josie." Is that not literally about her. Like if your problem is that she doesn't exist solely to serve Josie, isn't that having a problem with her??

"Did you think to ask her if she wanted to run for council before you assumed you'd win?" DID YOU?? BECAUSE THAT GIRL LOOKED LIKE SHE WANTED TO DIE AS SOON AS SHE HAD TO MAKE A DECISION ON THE SPOT LIKE THAT.

The irony in Penelope telling Lizzie that she's left Josie with no room for herself when it's actually the opposite way around. Like real quick Miss Park, which one of them are you telling that they can't pursue their interests because the other twin might want it too?

I will never understand why Penelope acted like Lizzie and Josie couldn't both run for council. It was an open election. All she had to do was put her name in.

"She spends all her energy taking care of you." To recap in the past four episodes she has spent her energy trying to win over Rafael, trying to convince everyone to hate Penelope and not talk about her, trying to get offensive magic put into the school curriculum, trying to get everyone to lose the football game, and trying to drive a deeper wedge between Hope and Lizzie during community service. Now which part of that is taking care of Lizzie?

"You are a black hole of time and energy and love." Is the time and energy and love in the room with us right now?

"She won't ever burn you world down." The foreshadowing to her literally burning the school down ...

Every day I wish Penelope would have been around to see Josie in her black lipstick era.

No because what happened to pretty shots like the Handon kiss? When did TV shows stop caring about cinematic beauty and nicely lit shots and fantastic coloring??

Sandwiches are a Handon thing

"I have a family friend who's expecting you." The fact that we never see Landon with the Mikaelson family friend ...

Every time I see Raf and Lizzie's scene, I think about that post about how lesbians use hetero sex as a form of self harm and there has never been a better example to exist in all of history. Like what part of being told that you're the worst person in the world makes you horny??

Also Lizzie Saltzman kiss a guy without crying challenge. Like sweetie if you're crying every time you have to kiss them, maybe it's for a reason.

Every time I hear Someone to You on the radio I get chills because of this episode

[fizzigigsimmer]

i wanna hear about all your fics!! so bachelor au, blinding baby like city lights, news paper au and love aint fair at all!!

Ahh bless you nonny. Some of these are still just outlines but a few have chapters posted.

Starting with OUTLINES

The Bachelor Au: This is still one of my favorite ideas lol, born of my love of the insanity that is the bachelor franchise and the poorly concealed producer plants who are clearly just there for the drama. You can't tell me Billy wouldn't make a perfect Chad. The gist is Steve is the first Bisexual bachelor contestant. An icon, An American sweetheart looking for love. Robin and The Party are crew members and all the stranger things teens are contestants (Nancy, Chrissy, Eddie, Jason, Argyle, Heather) vying for his hand and represent various types of typical bachelor contestants. The funny ones, the good guys, the people there for clout, the people who somehow think they can get away with going on a dating show while still involved in a situationship back home, and the people who decide to do a reality show instead of go to therapy for their bag of issues. Billy is an instagram model hired by producers to be the seasons 'villian' and be hated by the audience. It's just supposed to be a free vacation where he gets to make some extra cash to be his most extra before he's finally sent home. But oops, they fall in love. Leaving them to figure out how they build a life together after the show when there are NDA's involved and they are the most hated ship in America.

Newspaper Club Au: This is a no upside down college fic featuring Billy/Nancy friendship, nerd!billy and jock!Steve. I haven't decided yet whether it's modern, 80s, or an ambiguous setting but the basic gist is the boys meet in college. Steve is there on a sports scholarship and chose California to follow Nancy, now his ex-girlfriend. Billy's an English major who works on the school paper with Nancy (one of his electives). He's pissed when she puts him on the sports column as it means he actually has to attend the games. He starts using the column to flirt with/aka harass swimmer Steve through increasingly ridiculous and suggestive commentary. The campus thinks it's a riot. Steve thinks Billy's an asshole and making him the butt of a joke just because he's a "dumb jock". Nancy plays matchmaker and also saves the integrity of her paper by finagling Billy into helping Steve write an essay for his English literature elective. Billy takes the opportunity to show him he was 1000 percent serious about wanting to know if his dick is even bigger out of the speedo.

Onto the POSTED fics

Blinding Baby Like City Lights: Is a dom/sub au where everyone is either a dominant, submissive, or switch. Basically some people need to dominate to stay balanced and others need to submit, or some mix of the two. And everyone responds differently to different things, creating many different 'types.' Naturally not all types are good for each other. Billy is a masochistic sub, has known it for a long time but wasn't safe to explore it growing up with an abusive sadist for a father. He's managed to claw his way out of his abusive home and become a successful business man who is often mistaken for a dom. He found family in Heather & Chrissy, but never a dominant he can trust enough to handle him and give him exactly what he needs. Steve's a recovering sadist. Too much privilege and neglectful parents lead him to some pretty unhealthy and toxic tendencies in his relationship with his first love Nancy. Losing his sub nearly broke him, but he broke good and has been rebuilding his life with his best friend Robin for the last few years. He just wants to take care of people by making good food, and find someone he can take care of always, without having to be afraid of his own desires. Steve might just be perfect for Billy, and Billy might just be what Steve needs to finally embrace who he is.

*** EDIT

When you have so many WIPs you confuse two of them.

Love Aint Fair At All: Werewolf au + a/b/o dynamics. This is a retelling of Snow White that takes place in an alternate version of Hawkins where magic exists. Some peoples magic makes them Wolf Shifters (people who are born with the ability to turn into wolves) and others use their magic to bend the external elements, these people are called Hags. Steve lives in the Cold Zone, a portion of the country that is suffering under a powerful Hags curse. Billy is a Wolf Shifter, exiled from their former pack in California, he and Neil make their way as huntsmen for hire. But everything goes to shit wen Neil brings the family to Hawkins to serve Steve's cousin Elsie, a powerful and mysterious Hag whose obsession with beauty and power threatens to cover the world in ice. The only thing holding her at bay is an old curse that limits her powers and a prophecy that promised one day an omega child would be born who was fairer than her. Good thing Steve is a perfectly normal bland beta boy - until he isn't.

[hauntedbythenarrative]

HI! Sorry for bothering you but i love your Alicent content and webweaving and i loved the quotes you use !.

Do you mind sharing some recs of the books you use for the Alicent web weaving?.

Have a good day!

hi🌸

not a bother at all!! actually the quotes I found aren't from me reading books but just following poetry and lit blogs here on tumblr. usually when I see something that makes me think of her I just save the quote. I have thought before of reading the whole book or poetry collection but I have a pretty long reading list and I try to read in english as much as possible, but I live in italy, so it's not always easy to find books translated or written in english.

if I can attempt to answer your ask. I might say some bullshit...but, in hs I studied ancient greek lit and italian lit pretty hard (it was kinda the point of the hs I attended) but it's been 8 years since I graduated, so my memory isn't perfect. I think alicent mainly gives off 3 vibes: greek tragedies, epic poems and religious writings (but ik nothing about those. there's a whole world of writing inspired by that tho). I feel like medea (for the vengeance theme, not the "kill your children" theme) and antigone would be a good start. I'd like to put the iliad in as well only bc it has range, but you need a lot of patience and focus. I'm kinda biased and I think everyone should know to some degree the iliad...said that, last year I read dead blondes and bad mothers. it doesn't directly link to alicent but it explores the figures of daughters, wifes and mothers (in horror) and sometimes I felt like ,,okay, that's why some people could hate alicent bc of this patriarchal concept. it's a pretty easy, and I my opinion, sometimes basic feminist essay, but I mostly read novels, so that's the most you can get from me (for now) when it comes to essays. I'd also like to throw shakespeare in but I haven't read him in such a long time. don't wanna say sth potentially wrong but alicent makes me think a lot of ophelia (it sounds basic, ik).

I'm really thankful for the love and I hope this answer isn't a bummer. I'd love to give book recs but what i've read last year and what I read this year isn't v alicent-coded. but I'm sure the more I'll get into classics (again) the more I'll find something that fits. I'm just not in the most intellectual mood rn lol.

so, yeah, sorry if it is disappointing :((

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

I have so many thoughts (as usual) about all of this. (This is also my third time writing this).

I don't think I've mentioned it here, but I am a fic writer. Except I haven't posted anything in months despite writing a lot during that time. Part of it is just me being so very busy and so very tired, and a little sad. But some of is just exhausting because when I did post often, I didn't really get a lot of comments. I can recall about 2 comments off the top of my head, because they were such specific things which I loved. I have those two comments saved, like pieces of paper in a scrapbook.

I also haved saved my own comments on Nisha's writing and our interactions. Because part of the joy of being human is experiencing things and sharing things with people. Part of the wonder is taking a not saying to go and befriend fic writers or to leave long essay comments (though they are nice). I'm saying to have meaningful feedback and conversations with them.

I have more thoughts. Some about specifically you, because out of everything you've written for I've only genuinely interacted with one of the canon sources (Harry Potter). I was here two blogs ago (and a url before pinkchubbiebunnie), but you came back and then I came back and have been more active since but that's a different message. -Rotten Anon.

Thank you for sending this!

You are so right! A huge part of the joy of being in fandom is interacting with people. MAKING FRIENDS. My fandom friends are the only ones I interact with every single day, because with my chronic illness - I don't go outside often (maybe once a month, or less than - I literally only go outside for doctors' appointments. that's it) - so these are the people I am closest with. my fandom besties know more of me than 90% of people irl

And idk if I have mentioned this - but I have written fics that I haven't posted (for example, a follow up to Honey, which is one of my most popular fics ever, and the follow up is not smut but a commentary on sexuality and how people are valid if they don't follow one specific label) - Jaycen has said recently fanfiction is my 'love language', so I write fanfiction for literally every thought that crosses my fucking mind. And a very large chunk of those fics don't make it to being posted because they are too raw and too personal and I know if someone commented publicly on those fics in a way I didn't like - I would be upset. So I don't open myself up to that

Fandom is supposed to be about making friends. It's not supposed to be about increasing the number of words you have read in a year or reading whatever is most popular or 'hate reading' something just to yell at the characters. Fandom is supposed to be about making friends and enjoy the same characters with those friends.

It's the difference between attending a cooking class with your friends and going to the grocery store or a takeout place by yourself to eat in silence. Like you are not supposed to be here for the stuff - fanfiction is not a product. You are supposed to be here for the fandom and the companionship, and the fanfiction is supposed to be a way to bond over those characters with friends.

You are supposed to seek out fanfiction that has been posted because it means the person on the other end of that fic - the person who created it - also likes the same things and the same characters that you like.

And it is great if someone with a writing style you already really like posts fics from something you haven't seen before - because you might get into that show or you might just get some cool fics out of it - but still, discuss those fics with that person like a friend. That is like watching someone bake while chatting with them, keeping them company, and licking the spoon even if you don't intend to have a piece of cake in the end or even if the cake is meant for a party you're not going to.

Just, again - fandom is about friendship. Fanfiction is not a product.

[touyastearss]

Quid Pro Quo (Professor! Zeke x Student!Reader)

WARNING: age gap, professor-student relationship (reader is legal), manipulation, noncon, typical blackmail situation, smut, oral, humiliation

///

“This isn't good enough. See me in my office later, Y/N.”

A familiar shade of red stains the page as your essay is handed back to you. There's crosses thrown across the page and entire paragraphs circled in bright red, small, with barely legible notes scrawled beside them. You can't read them, but you don't need to. You know what they say. What they mean.

Your heart thumps against your chest. You want to cry.

— —

You wait until late in the evening. The last thing you’d want is for anybody to stumble across the two of you. The grounds are silent, save for the rustling of the leaves in the trees as you walk towards the old building, and there are few lights to guide your way. But you know the route by now.

The oak door gets bigger and bigger until it looms over you, rooting you to the ground as you allow yourself a minute, like every other time, to prepare. To leave, to argue, to run. But the cold of the wind pulls you from your trance. You have no choice.

You don’t knock. He’s expecting you. He doesn’t even look up when you enter, silent at his desk, the scratching of his pen the only noise in the room as he writes. His jacket is off, hanging from the back of his chair, and his dark tie hangs loose around his neck. It’s a complete contrast to his put-together looks throughout the day; pristine, perfectly ironed suits and a smile. Now the top buttons of his shirt are loose, and you can see the dip of his broad chest as he leans over his desk.

You clear your throat, stepping forward into the room a little further.

“Sir.”

He looks up at you, finally, nonchalant as ever as he watches you close the door. He leans back against his chest, watching you through the rim of his round glasses. They glint as he speaks.

“Y/N. Can I help you?”

You don’t know why he does it. Why he makes you come here, makes you stand before him and grovel at his feet, all while he acts oblivious. It’s so unnerving, so sick.

He raises an eyebrow, leaning back into his seat and reaching into his pocket. The cigarette he pulls out is the same expensive brand he always smokes. He places it between his lips, balancing it as he watches you, expectantly. You swallow the lump in your throat.

“I’d like to speak to you about my grade.”

You don’t miss the flicker of amusement in his eyes as you speak, but it’s gone quickly with a puff of his cigarette, the smoke clouding round his face. He waits a moment, like he always does, and then speaks.

“I’m afraid the grades you’ve received are non-negotiable. I can’t give out any special treatment, Y/N. You know this.”

He waits, silently. You want to cry. His gaze hardens for a split second and you know you’re keeping him waiting too long for his liking. He enjoys a game, but he gets bored quickly.

“Please.”

He doesn’t speak.

You hate him. You hate him so much. You hate your parents for making you attend university. You hate chance for its unfair ways. You hate the way he touches you. You hate yourself for letting him.

“Please, Sir.” Your voice breaks, a singular tear trickling down your face as you avert your gaze from his face. There’s no smile, just a cruel, satisfied smirk at the way your body recoils from him as the words pass your lips.

You refuse to look as you hear him stand from his desk, watching as he leather Oxfords get closer until they're right in front of you, and you can smell the lit cigarette.

“Don’t cry, Y/N,” he cooes, voice soft and quiet in the silence of his office. His rough fingers come to rest on your chin, turning your head to face him with mock gentleness. “Pretty girls shouldn’t cry.”

He’s so close. You feel trapped. You’re drowning in a mixture of his cologne and smoke, a smell you’ve scrubbed from your skin countless times before. His thumb strokes your skin gently, and his touch sparks goosebumps on your skin. He lets out a soft hum, as if he’s so horrifically torn by the decision he’s about to make.

“You're putting me in a difficult situation here, Y/N.”

He waits a second.

“But maybe I can make an exception for you."

One more.

"You’ll just have to do me a favour in return."

He speaks like it’s the most gracious thing. Like he’s some saint. Like he's not bullied you into this corner countless times before. Like he won't do it again. You want to scream. Instead you meet his eyes, ignoring the soft smirk that forms on his lips.

Your line comes out weak, hopeless.

“I’ll do anything.”

— —

He likes to take it slow at first. You don't know whether the drag of his hands across your skin is for your enjoyment or his. You could take a lucky guess. The minutes he spends touching your skin set you on edge, eyes flickering to the door as images of the two of you being caught flood your brain. The risk is high, it makes you sick. He loves it.

He likes to tell you that what he's doing is for the best. That he's so much older than you, that he’s so much smarter. Surely only a Professor could know what was best for their student? He whispers praise and filth into your skin and tells you that you’re so good for him. That you listen so well. Like a good student. A good girl.

He likes it when you're beneath him. When you stare up at him with teary eyes and a helpless look on your face as he sits you on his desk. He parts your legs forcefully to step between them, guiding your head towards him. You don’t want to react to the feel of his rough palms travelling between the material of your skirt to the top of your thighs, but you can’t help but gasp as they enter you, curling and prodding at your walls.

He likes your skirt to stay on. The way it falls across your skin when he fucks into you, the material creasing beneath his grip on your thighs. The wood of his desk bruises your stomach with every thrust forwards, his thick fingers gripping your tits through the material of your shirt. You leave with bruises that never seem to fade.

He likes your reflection in the mirror that he fucks you in front of. Likes the way your nervous expression morphs into pleasure as he has his way with you. The way fear flickers across your eyes every now and then as you come back to your senses, the way it’s gone with the light pressure of his thumb on your clit. Your body shakes in his hold and he can only admire how perfect you look as you take his cock. So cute.

When you’re on the floor, knees pressing uncomfortably into the hard oak panels as his cock pounds into your throat. Your nails dig into his thighs and your whines are silenced as you gag around him. His own grunts are always loud, and he lets out a deep, guttural groan as he releases into your throat, pulling out just in time to taint your skin.

He likes you to say thank you, afterwards. To pick yourself up and ignore the shake in your legs as he places a light kiss on your forehead. To leave without a word.

And to return, as always, the next time.