#i am stressed out with finals this week but i submitted my essay last night (🙌🏽 woohoo) and i am going to make myself some mean fish tacos

[rosecoloredknight]

life is pretty much about learning to love your solitude and making the most of it huh?

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

A Sweet Mishap - Chapter 34

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader 

A/N: I just want to start by thanking everyone for all the love on this story so far. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list. Please read the TW below and only read on if you feel comfortable doing so.

Also, Merry Christmas! I'm sorry I've been AWOL for the past few weeks, but I finally got a chance to write again and wanted to get this short part to you before Christmas. It will act as the finale to the first book of A Sweet Mishap - I definitely want to continue writing about this couple, but I think this is a nice way to wrap it up for the year and I'll come back with a sequel in the new year.

Potential Trigger Warnings: mentions of violence, rape, therapy, depression, sex

A Sweet Mishap Masterlist | Main Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

I rise early, with the sun like usual despite not having to work today. I refuse to get out of bed until I absolutely have to. But I prop myself up with an obnoxious amount of pillows and drag my laptop over from the empty side of the bed onto my lap. I’m determined to submit all my assessments today before my session with Dr. Katelyn, slowly removing stresses one at a time.

I carefully read through each word and sentence making minor edits as I go and then with a deep breath hit submit on each one. For once, I actually feel highly confident with my essays, knowledge and with the grade that I hope to receive. Despite working myself to the bone all semester with so many priorities to balance I feel I actually managed to submit work that I’m proud of. I attribute it to my steadily improving mental health and clarity.

Once I close down my college tabs I decide to try to do a little planning of my own for the summer. Jensen’s organised so much, a lot that I don’t even know yet–just that he’s got surprises that I’ll like. I grew up in such a small area, yet I know he’s mostly lived in the larger cities, so my plan is to give him more of the country. I research diners and hiking trails and make sure some of my favorite spaces are still operating. The list of things I want to do is extensive, but I know, as much as I want to take the full three months, Stewie will need me back at Mamma Jo’s. He’s agreed to a month so far, but I could tell even that long concerned him. He only agreed becuase he knows he can rely on the juniors, which I promised to train up before I leave Thankfully, most of them have a lot of potential and are fast learners. As I’m searching through sites a Facetime notification pops up and I answer instantly.

“Hey Darlin’! You look comfy.”

“Good morning, Handsome. I am, but there is one thing that would make me comfier…”

“Less than a week and you can fall asleep in my arms every night for a month.”

“Except when we visit my parents…”

“Yeah, except then. But you’ll still be nearby, not a country away.”

“Yeah. I can’t wait! I was actually just researching places I want to take you back home.”

“Really? Any hints?”

I shake my head, “Nope! You’ve got your secrets, I’ve got mine.”

“Fair enough. You got therapy soon?”

“Two hours.”

“They’ll probably need me on set by then. I just wanted to check in while I had a chance.We’re pushing hard to be finished by Friday, I have no doubts. Then there’s just the wrap party that night, then I’ll see you.”

“I wish you could come to my last show…”

“I wish I could show you off at the wrap party. But it’s okay, we get a whole month together in Texas and that means so much more.”

“I really can’t wait. I submitted my assessments this morning, so I’ve just got therapy, a few more shows and my last few shifts at the cafe. I’m counting down each day and each road block. You know I’ve brocken so many of my New Years Resolutions, and I couldn’t be happier. And I owe most of that to you, so thank you.”

“Anything for you. I love seeing that smile on your face, especially knowing I helped put it there. But that’s just it, you’re doing all the work, I’m just here to cheer you on and offer support when you need it. You really are a star, I just want to watch you glow and reignite that spark that others tried to dim.”

I smile at him, then bite my lip as I remember I conversation from my last session with the doctor. “Jens…I thanks…Also, I’ve been meaning to…” He stays ever patient and smiles as I ramble, letting me get there on my own, “I talked to Dr Katelyn last week about my issues with intimacy and some fears, concerns, thoughts about our holiday. I know we’ll be alone alot and likely sharing a bed while we’re at your place and I just…I want to be open to things, but I feel like I’ve never-Nothing’s really ever been on my terms. I’ve always just gone along with what the guy wants. She suggested that maybe I should treat this relationship like a first. Like I’m in highschool and we’re touching each base. Slow and at my pace.”

He nods the whole time. “Of course. Everything is on your terms with me. I’d never push. I’m happy to cuddle, maybe make out and if we don’t have sex during the trip that’s fine. I don’t want you to feel pressured or like I’m expecting anything, because I’m not. I just want to spend time with you. And if you decide it’s too much to sleep in the same bed every night, you can go into the guestroom whenever you want. We can make sure it’s set up nicely for you so you can have a comfortable escape when you need it. A space that’s all yours and I won’t ever go into unless you want me to. We can set it up on the first day if you want. You can choose whatever decor you want.”

“Thanks. I appreciate that. But Jens, what if…What if I want to…you know, have sex at some point?”

“If we get through the first three bases and you are 100 per cent on board and comfortable with going the home run then we tackle that base like all the others. Slow and at your pace. And if we start and you need to stop then you just tell me and we stop, but I’ll be reading all the signs your body gives me and if I think it’s too much I’ll stop it, just like last time.”

I nod, “Okay. Do you mind if I continue to talk to Dr. Kate about it today?”

“I hope you do. But you never need my permission to talk about anything with her. There’s no NDA here, and even if there was it wouldn’t pertain to our relationship. Anything between us is fair game. I think you already know that, but I’ll remind you as much as you need, that will never change.”

“Thanks.” I glance down at the time on my computer screen. “I should start getting ready.”

“Alright, Beautiful. I’ll talk to you tonight. Have a good session and a great day.”

“You too-You have a great-You know what I mean.”

“I do. Bye.” He blows me a kiss as he ends the call and I can’t help but blush. As I drag myself out of the comfy bed and into the shower I think back to that day in December. I really did win the lottery when I accidentally spilt that hot cocoa on him. That was the best sweet mishap I’ve ever made.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Taglist: @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27, @n-o-p-e-never, @deansimpalababy,

@winchesterwild78, @kr804573, @chriszgirl92, @smoothdogsgirl

@speakinvain, @deans-baby-momma, @1967winchesterimpala

@lmg14, @superrey, @kamisobsessed

[libmoopsychblog]

New semester, new me (I hope)...

I've had a lot of time to stare at my wall and re-evaluate the way that I tried to approach my first semester on the MRes course! But now I think it's time to do a bit of self reflection and to form an action plan for semester two so I don't burn out before graduation.

My experience of the first semester was challenging to say the least! Throughout my full life in academia, I've always struggled to stay on top of workloads and to start an assignment earlier than 24 hours before it's due date. At the start of semester one, I told myself that this would be the year for me: I'd convinced myself that a switch would flip in my brain and this year I would turn into the academic weapon that I was born to be. But it just didn't happen... Every submission in semester one was proceeded with a frantic rush up to the last second that was made ten times more stressful because of how much more difficult this work is to any I've had to submit in the past. Take the coding assignment as an example- I still have nightmares about how much my head hurt trying to finish that task on time!!

Whilst I've always been able to (somehow) walk out with good grades doing work in this way, it's just not a sustainable way to submit work at a Master's level. Not just because of the higher standard of work, but I've found 27 grey hairs coming through on my head since last November and I can't afford to dye my hair every week to cover them up. Joking aside, eventhough it makes me feel smart and accomplished to be able to write a 4000 word essay in 15 hours with no prior planning, I'm going to make sure that this is going to be the semester, albeit my final semester, that I become the academic success story that they write books about.

To give myself credit where it's due, I have constantly proven to myself that I can work under pressure. Pressure has always been my main motivator when it comes to submissions- I leave it until the pressure is at its peak to even begin thinking about writing. So at least now that when I get asked if I "deal well in high pressure situations" in a job interview, I know myself I'm not lying. But I have seen the negative consequences of this method on my mental health in the long run. I've constantly been in this cycle where I'll get mad at myself when I submit something because I know it's not my best work and this just can't continue.

When I think deeply about it, I think it is the constant passing grades that have stopped me from ever changing my ways. Why change a system that works, right? But I need to value my own mental health, stress levels and sleep more than I ever have. For me, it goes back to a classic theory I studied in A-Level Sociology- the Self-Fulfilling Prophecy. I have convinced myself that I am somebody who needs a looming deadline and peaked pressure and who cannot work on an assignment in small, manageable chunks so that is exactly the type of person that I have become. So from now, I'll take my whole academic career so far as a learning curve and break the beliefs that I have forced upon myself about the conditions that I need to work in.

So here we are: the all important action plan.

1: Dear Diary...

A diary! I don't know how it has taken me 21 years to come to such a blatantly obvious revelation. But from now, I'm keeping a diary dedicated to all things deadline, planning and uni related. This way I have to hold myself accountable to the plans I've made for myself and can never say I don't know when something is due because it's in the diary.

2: Going to sleep on deadline Eve.

No more all nighters the night before a deadline! I've made a pact with myself that my work has to be submitted early so there is absolutely no work to be done the night before something is due. This way, I can be all tucked up in bed early the night before like a kid on Christmas Eve... bliss.

3: Slow and Steady Wins the Race

A lesson that I should have learned in primary school when they used to read the book about the tortoise and that rabbit. All of my work will be broken up into manageable chunks that I can complete in the weeks leading up until the deadline, rather than it just being done in one go.

So there we have it, a concise three step action plan that'll (hopefully) make semester two an absolute breeze... I'll let you know how that one goes.

[blu-joons]

Graduation Day ~ Kim Hongjoong

“I told you you’d do it,” Hongjoong smiled as you walked off the stage with your certificate held tightly in your hand, spotting him instantly waiting for you.

His arms moved around your waist as you stepped into his side, pressing his lips against the top of your head. He was your biggest supporter over the past couple of years, even when life seemed to be throwing every hurdle your way.

The long nights, the teary nights, the sleepless nights had all been worth it for the piece of paper that you held onto in that moment.

“I’m so proud of you,” he whispered down to you, pressing his hand to your cheek, “it’s nice to see you smiling again with the weight of the world off your shoulders.”

There had been far too many times then he liked to remember when he’d ended up finding you teary eyed or breaking down in front of your laptop. Too many visits when you’d crumbled around him because the workload became too much.

Hongjoong could remember his last visit with you the most. How you sobbed into his side for hours and vented about how difficult you were finding your final essay and how hard you were having to fight not to dropout.

“Let me take a proper look,” he smiled, holding his hand out for you to give him your certificate.

He pulled the ribbon that was around the scroll, opening it up so that he could read through it. His heart was full as he read through your name and all of the other pieces of information that came with it, including the all-important pass you’d been working towards.

“You deserve this so much,” he whispered, tying it back up again once he’d finished reading through it, “how does it feel to finally be a graduate?”

“I didn’t think I’d be a graduate a few weeks ago,” you chuckled, feeling your cheeks begin to turn red, “I was convinced on that night that I was just going to give it up, I don’t know how you managed to convince me to carry on if I’m honest with you.”

If Hongjoong was honest, he had his doubts too. Your deadline was only a couple of weeks away, and he knew you were stressed, but even he hadn’t seen you in such a state before. He was clueless, but somehow, he managed to do the right thing.

Watching you now with a wide smile on your face, he was relieved he made the decision to go to your dorm that night and see how you were getting on. If he hadn’t, he doubted that you’d even be stood where you were right now.

“And now you have the rest of your life to look forward to,” Hongjoong reminded you, “and best of all, you don’t ever have to submit another essay again.”

Your eyes lit up just at the thought of finally being free from all of your studies, “I feel like I could sleep for a thousand years after everything I’ve been through over the past few months.”

Hongjoong had often just sat back and admired your dedication and determination to getting yourself the best grade possible. You’d pushed yourself to breaking that, but your grade reflected that, which Hongjoong knew was all that you’d ever wanted.

His arms moved back around your waist once your scroll was handed back to you, tapping gently at the graduation cap on top of your head. He almost felt as if he was in a movie as he studied you kitted out head to toe in your hat and your graduation gown.

It didn’t take long before your hat piqued his interest, and he began to tap at it again and again until he sent it toppling off the top of your head. Your eyes rolled as he bent down to pick it up, sitting it perfectly against the top of your head as if nothing had happened.

“I swear it’s like bringing a child to my graduation,” you remarked, jabbing into his side gently. “You’re not with the boys now, you don’t have to keep touching everything and messing around with it,” you reminded him, rolling your eyes as his jaw opened in surprise.

“I’m just reminding myself that I’m dating a graduate,” he proudly smiled, pressing a kiss against your forehead to keep you quiet. “I feel pretty smug being able to say that, especially when I’ve been such a crucial part in helping you get to this position.”

“A crucial part? You really think that’s what you’ve been?”

His head nodded in response to your question, even though you knew he was joking, if you were honest, Hongjoong wasn’t wrong in the slightest. Each time you felt like giving up, he was there, when you wanted someone to visit you, he was straight round, and each time you succeeded, he was the first one there to congratulate you too.

Your eyes glanced back up at him, “I guess I probably wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you, you’ve always been my biggest supporter.”

“I knew exactly what you were capable of, that’s why. Even if you doubted yourself, I knew you’d get to this position with a little bit of support,” he smiled.

“You’ve done so much more than a little bit of support,” you responded, “you’ve really been there when I felt like giving up.”

For all the times that he’d had to help you when you felt yourself breaking down or wanted to hand in your letter to tell them you were dropping out, they were all worth it and so much more as Hongjoong watched you graduate. He had never been prouder than the moment he watched you walk up on that stage and take your certificate.

“What’s next then?” He questioned suddenly, “now you have the whole world waiting for you, what do I have to support you through next? Have you got your next step?”

“Right now, I just want to do nothing for a while and give myself some time to relax.”

“That’s a good idea,” he chuckled.

Your smile grew wider, “maybe I could come and annoy you at work, make up for all the times you’ve constantly appeared at my dorm over the years.”

He couldn’t hide his delight at the thought of you getting more involved with his work now that you had the time. Hongjoong was forever trying to get you to spend time at the studio or come to a show, and now the weight of the world had lifted from you, you finally had the time.

“Whatever you do, I’ll be there,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead gently.

“I know,” you giggled, “you’ve been by my side through so much of the worst, it’s about time we go through some of the best together too.”

“It’s all been worth it to see you now, you’ve put so much effort and hard work into this, and now you can reap the rewards. I don’t think I’ll ever really be able to tell you just how proud I am of how far you’ve come.”

Your head nodded slowly, “I’ve definitely come along way from breaking down in the dorm. I’m just relieved that I chose to stick it out and carry it on until the end.”

“Me too, and now you can finally call yourself a graduate.”

---

Masterlist

[jamesmaddiscnx]

Angst 8 with Scott 😊

request prompt: “why am i always bottom of your priority list?”

word count: 871

warnings: none

category: angst

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Football as a full time career was bound to be exhausting. You knew that. It wasn’t as glamorous as the media made it out to be. Scott was always up training during the early hours of the morning and his afternoons were spent working on tac tics with the team. It was part of the package with Scott and you knew that when you committed to being in a relationship with him but it didn’t make it any easier.

When Scott eventually came home from training most evenings, you would have dinner prepared and ready to serve for him. He was appreciative of it and always thanked you before hitting the shower and falling asleep whilst you finished up watching your favourite TV show. It helped you unwind when you didn’t get the opportunity to vent to your boyfriend about what it was that had been stressing you out lately.

Recently, you had been bombarded with not only university work but also extra shifts that your boss needed you to take because of how severely understaffed they were. As a loyal servant to the company, you were always first on his list of people to ask and you had always felt that you couldn’t say no.

As a result, you were slowly falling further and further behind with your workload for university and the stress of the situation was eating you up.

Usually, you would talk to Scott about it and he would help you navigate the situation, often telling you to take holidays from work since he could handle the bills and that would allow you enough time to get on top of the readings and essays that you would need to submit as part of your degree.

But not this time.

It seemed to be that Scott had completely forgotten about the fact that you had a life and with it came difficulties but he was in his own world at the moment.

This time, as Scott came home from training, you greeted him the same way that you did every other day. You kissed his cheek as he entered the front door, him doing the same to you and you headed through to the kitchen where his food was waiting for him, steaming on the plate. Except this time, he was ranting to you about being left out of the match day squad.

“I don’t get it. I was the captain at the weekend and this week, I’m sitting on the bench?!” He exclaimed, seeming to be baffled by Ole’s choice of team. You understood his frustrations. He wanted nothing more than to impress and help out his team. Not to mention the fact that he had to continue to impress so that he would be included in Steve Clarke’s squad for the Euro’s. He couldn’t assume that he would be playing for Scotland, he had to earn the tartan jersey.

“Bob has asked me-” You started, thinking that you would finally get the chance to explain the difficulties in your life and have him give you some advice but you didn’t get to finish before Scott interrupted you.

“Sorry, I’m going to take a shower. We can continue this after, yeah?” He asked expectantly and that was the moment when you lost it. You couldn’t believe how entitled he had just been. It was ignorant and it filled you with rage.

“Why am I always bottom of your priority list?” You whispered and the words caught the blonde footballer by surprise. He had no idea where you were coming from. As far as he was concerned, you were both understanding of where each other stood in your lives and it was the same every time: the top.

“What do you mean?” He turned to face you, his trip to the shower seeming far less important now. He wanted to hear what you had to say. He needed to know what you had to say.

“It’s the same routine every night, Scott. You come in from training and I cook for you. You vent, go to shower and then crash. You haven’t even noticed that I’ve been up until three most mornings to try and finish my university work load before heading off for my shifts at six AM,” You started and Scott stood frozen in shock for you were right. He had been so self-absorbed recently and he hadn’t noticed just how much you were struggling. He felt like utter shit because of it.

“It’s almost like I don’t matter anymore.” You sighed as you looked down at the ground and that was the part that broke Scott completely. He had abandoned you in a time when you needed him and for that, he would never forgive himself.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. You are always top of of my priorities. I really have no excuse but I promise that I’ll do better from now on, I promise.” He moved forward across the kitchen and pulled you into his chest and you let him, completely ignoring the fact that he had yet to have his shower.

“I love you.” He whispered as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head and from that moment on, he vowed to always let you know that you are the most important thing in his life.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

my longest imagine yet i think! thanks for requesting this one, anon! i had lots of fun with this one and i really hope that i did it justice. this is the last imagine to be published tonight. i have a lot of university work to do tomorrow so i’m not sure if i’ll get anything out tomorrow night but we’ll see! lots of love, e x

tags: @harrywinksyx @kingkepa @glam-khal @alexajanecollins @kierantierncy

[pugh-bug]

Scott Lang x reader

Chapter 4 of this slow burn (which is fitting because I post the chapters slowly) story

Finally! The next chapter will follow on from this because it’s going to end up too long if I don’t post this chapter now. I hope you enjoy it! :)

You’d been stressed the last week and everyone could tell. A twenty thousand word uni essay you thought was in for the end of term turned out to have been due two weeks earlier. It only took one text from a fellow class member, who you never really spoke to or considered, asking you what your grade was to send you into a frantic meltdown. Luckily the Avengers were busy so you had Stark Tower to yourself for a few hours and took full advantage. By crying. A lot. Begging your professor to give you more time to hand it in (because you were sick cough cough) and planning the stupid thing to get it over with. Did you get it done eventually? Yes. Would a drunken chicken be impressed by your words? Doubtful.

Normally you gave Bruce your essays to look over but you couldn’t bring yourself to show him your so called ‘work’ so into the submissions it went. It was too embarrassing but your motivation levels had plummeted since meeting the Avengers and calling them your friends - you couldn’t care too much. In the scheme of things essays just didn’t seem important anymore.

On Sunday you submitted it and sat in silence for a moment. Everyone had gotten used to giving you space, for a change, so you were comfortable with quiet. However you were not going to quietly tell them you’d finally finished. No.

‘FINALLY!’ You yelled, purposefully leaning towards your door for maximum effect. Let them come to you, you thought. As the door opened and your friends pretty faces appeared you felt nothing but relief. It was silly to feel ‘free’ because it was just an essay but fucking hell did you despise avoiding everyone to write it for so long.

Scott came to you first with Tony, Thor and Vision behind. You tried not to revel in him being closest to you too much. He looked especially cute that afternoon, you could tell he’d had a lie in because of his slight bed hair, and you beamed at him. ‘So it’s finished?’ Making space for him so he could sit on your desk beside you, you nodded. ‘Yes!’

While Thor gave you a long speech about how pointless Earth school was in his charming way, Tony congratulated you like you’d had a baby.

‘Good. Knew that was hard for you.’

Scott was glued to your desk and you tried to make eye contact with everyone else in the room but him. Him and his pretty distracting face.

‘I have a brilliant idea!’ Tony then announced, commanding the room in his diva like way. Scott raised his eyebrows at you in anticipation before you all turned to look at the billionaire. ‘I think we’ve all disappointed ourselves this week. Do you know why? Work. We’ve been working too hard.’ Scott laughed and smiled down at you, which you returned. Poor Vision just stood in the doorframe glazed with visible confusion. It was like being in a Ted talk audience.

‘Y/N’s essay,’ Tony gestured to you. ‘My impeccable new suit. I’m sure Vision has been doing.. somethi- the point is, we need to party. My humble suggestion, which you’re free to disapprove of if you’re boring, is that we all get-‘

‘Smashed!’

The exclaim just left you. You had been fucking itching to be drunk all week and celebrate - even if it was a small achievement in the grand scheme of things. You wanted to do shots. Lie on the floor. Dance. Dance and finally eat! Somehow you hadn’t eaten anything all day and it was 4pm. Your stomach was growling at you.

Scott rubbed your shoulder playfully and smirked ‘I like that plan.’

‘Excuse me. My plan.’

You and Scott chose to ignore the diva in the room which of course Vision and his big computer brain had to comment on. ‘Erm...’ he hesitated as he walked towards the two of you in classic Vision fashion. ‘You two are-‘

‘About to find all the liquor!’ Before he could finish whatever awkward question he could ask you jumped out of your seat taking Scott with you. The cabinets where most of the alcohol got stored were all in the smaller of Tony’s kitchens. Scott’s hand in yours felt familiar and unfamiliar at the same time as you giddily dragged him down the hall. You could not stop smiling and he could sense your mood change.

‘Someone’s happy today.’

Of course you somehow took that as a hint to let his hand go, which you did but sadly. Your hand felt a bit lost as you walked and you couldn’t remember if you normally swung your arms or kept them still like Vision.

‘I’m warning you now,’ you opened the cupboards with no specific alcohol in mind ‘I plan on getting very drunk tonight.’ Fuck. There wasn’t any kopperberg left. Oh well you’d settle for gasoline- it was one of those days.

‘You don’t have to tell me,’ Scott chuckled at you. ‘When I was your age I got black out drunk almost daily.’ Once you were carrying a dangerous amount of bottles and cans you looked up at the man and he looked a bit smug. ‘Am I right in thinking you’re proud of yourself?’ He didn’t have to reply, you could tell he was.

The two of you laid out the cans and wine, vodka, mixer and beer bottles out on the counter carefully. It looked like a beautiful recipe for disaster but it wasn’t anything you hadn’t all done only weeks before. The amusing sounds of Tony bossing everyone around to get off their asses and party met your ears. Your main goal was to start drinking as soon as possible. Red wine, you found in your ‘scientific studies’, got you the drunkest the quickest so it was the obvious choice.

As you swug it, Scott hesitated about starting his beer. He watched you but for once you didn’t have the energy to wonder what he was thinking. ‘Oh no,’ you laughed and carried on drinking. ‘I’m gonna have to peel you off this floor later aren’t I?’ His words were worrying but there was a gleam in his eyes and an energy radiating off the two of you that didn’t care what happened.

You laughed and told him that yes he definitely would have to. He seemed to think it was his mission and his alone to look after you. How sweet and incorrect. ‘Scott,’ saying his name never got old ‘Don’t you dare stay sober for me. I’ve never seen you drunk.’ Somehow you hadn’t. Unless you had and couldn’t remember which was also likely. The idea of the two of you dancing together and Scott twirling you under his arm made your cheeks warm and your chest flutter.

The urge to be overly sarcastic was building, why you got like this around attractive people when you were bored you didn’t know. It wasn’t your best trait - funny sometimes but not exactly mature of you. It was almost addictive and spending time with Tony’s sarcy ass did nothing to help you think before you spoke.

You leant on the counter drinking but your mind was trying to decide which playlist you were going to force everyone to dance to. ‘Plughole.’ Scott stated.

‘Wow...’

‘It’s too quiet in here. Did I miss anything?’ Tony strutted in with his classic arrogance. You gestured to yourself and repeated Scott’s remark while chugging more wine. If you didn’t feel tipsy soon you’d start taking shots.

‘Shots!’ Clint yelled, entering the kitchen behind Thor, Peter, Nat, Bruce and Vision. Maybe the archer could mind read after all? He was holding an oven tray filled with shot glasses. Just- a beautiful sight. Scott looked apprehensive on your behalf but that didn’t matter. If he didn’t want you to get plastered he didn’t have to stay with you all night. Nat would.

‘Finally, yes please yes.’

It was pure chaos before long, which was exactly what you craved after such a boring week. ‘I want it all’ by the Arctic Monkeys was playing, despite Thor’s drunken Asgardian chant suggestions, and you had somehow taken 5 shots already. Scott was on 4, Vision going strong with 0 (of course), Thor had beaten you with 7 and yet Tony was winning with 8. You lost count quickly after that.

There were so many people in one room you felt like leaving would be impossible. You’d have to crowd surf to get to the shitting toilet. ‘Scott!’ He’d stayed near you until Steve arrived, looking sophisticated in a suit. That was when drunk you decided Scott could only leave you for Steve. One exception.

‘Scott!’

He heard you the second time, just barely over the music Sam had turned up. You felt needy and raw. Almost all of your ‘holding back reserves’ had been chained up by copious amounts of vodka. ‘Are you okay?’ Slurring his words slightly, Scott put his hand on your shoulder looking genuinely concerned. Your heart swelled. ‘Aw fuck.’ He didn’t respond at your accidental ‘sentence’ that had meant to stay in your brain.

‘I need to throw up.’

You didn’t even know if you felt sick but you felt something. It was just words and a half arsed explanation for leaving the lively room. The two of you were stood in the centre of the dance circle so leaving was a struggle. Avoiding Tony’s flaying arms and Sam’s impressive dancing to find the empty corridor felt like an obstacle course.

As soon as you and Scott reached the bathroom your stomach grumbled. ‘Oh.’ You held it and looked up at Scott’s confused face with realisation. ‘I think I’m just h-hungry! And you burst out laughing in his drunken haze Scott joined in.

‘Pretty sure there’s cake over here.’ He laughed, partially at your excitement but also at his own. Neither one of you ate well without encouragement and all you wanted was to devour sugar or his face if you got any drunker.

Taglist: @supraveng

[clouds-rambles]

Oh you thought we're not both doing out homework last minute!? Ha.

He doesn't. He takes a week to write his essays and that's how long we get for them. I have no idea how he does it! According to him. 'just spread out your time. Write a paragraph a day and you'll have it done on time without overworking yourself. Fuck planning. Just know what you're going to say and put it in the paragraph.'

How does he manage? I have no clue.

I, on the other hand, speedrun everything the night before. He calls my lifestyle stressful because I leave everything to the last minute and on top of that, I need to plan my essays in a very specific longwinded way, but I physically can't do it any other way so y'know. First, I split the different arguments into the very bare basics (support and contradict, for example) and just spill all the knowledge you deem useful for this essay into these categories. Next comes plan two. I need to have easy-to-read, concise notes for every point I'm going to make. There are many indented bullet points but when I read it, I can clearly see how my argument flows - the main point I'm making, what sources I have to support it, ways in which it could be criticised and further criticisms to that, and a final evaluation. My beautiful plan then makes it very easy to write the essay. Only problem is that I can't focus on it until it's 2 am and I'm crying about how much of a failure I am. Then around 4-5 in the morning, my essay is done and I head to bed for a well deserved two hour of sleep.

I get better marks than him. Both aren't ideal methods of doing things, but it's the best I can offer you :)

omg how do do that :’)

I think I do a bit of both, I collect sources for weeks before I sit down and bosh out an essay in like 2 hours and submit without thinking abt proof reading it 😭🤚

[hms-chill]

Kicking Underwater

Summary: "He's not going to be the youngest elected congressman in history without earning it, but nobody needs to know how hard he's kicking underwater. His sex-symbol stock would plummet" -- Casey McQuiston, page 3

----

Henry knows that Alex's midterm season will be hard. He knows Alex overworks himself, so he talks to June, and he makes sure he knows exactly how to look after Alex when he's at his busiest. He's ready to come home early when he can, bringing Alex's favorite takeout for days when making dinner together would take too much time. He's ready to drag Alex to bed by two AM, ready to keep him from drinking too much coffee and hiding in the office with the blinds closed all day.

What he isn't ready for is a version of Alex at midterms who seems normal, if a bit more tired. Yes, Alex is working more, but it seems reasonable. They still have their biweekly cooking lessons, and Alex joins him for David's walks sometimes. He comes to bed at reasonable hours, and he promises he's hydrating and eating while Henry's gone. So, even if Alex starts to look more tired or worried, things seem to be alright. He still works hard, he has late nights of studying or dog walks where he spends the whole time thinking aloud about an essay, but it's far from the self-destruction Henry was afraid of.

Maybe, just maybe, he's been able to help Alex relax. If Alex looks more tired, maybe it's just showing on his face more than normal. He's tossing and turning a bit more at night, but he always seems to relax when Henry holds him. If he looks more stressed, well, they can't exactly expect a stress-free midterm season. But things don't seem much worse than normal, and June seems happy, so Henry convinces himself not to be worried. He still worries, of course, but he tries to convince himself not to.

There's one week in particular that he's dreading. It's a week when Alex has two tests and an essay, and the class he's a TA for has a test, so he has forty-some essay questions to grade amidst his own studying.

But Sunday ends, and the chaos week starts, and things seem alright.

Alex's class take their test on Monday, and Alex brings home a stack of papers, but he agrees to take a break and walk David while Henry proofreads his essay, and they both agree that it's a good enough essay to call it for the night. Henry thinks it's good enough to turn in, but Alex wants to tweak it, and it's not worth the argument as long as Alex is coming to bed without Henry having to plead.

He looks tired on Tuesday, but he swears he's alright, and Henry trusts him. It must just be the stress of the week. He makes sure to tell Alex he loves him a few extra times, and even convinces Alex to accept a shoulder rub while he grades essays and makes study guides. And really, all things considered, it seems good.

Henry's not sure what wakes him up somewhere that feels like Tuesday night but is technically Wednesday morning, but when he cuddles closer to Alex to try to go back to sleep, there's a light. He opens his eyes a bit to see Alex awake, one hand around Henry, the other furiously typing into his phone. In the light of the phone screen he looks exhausted, the bags under his eyes exaggerated and every stress line deepened by the long shadows. Henry hums, reaching a heavy hand up to push Alex's phone down. Alex looks over in surprise, phone still in place.

"Hen? What are you doing up?"

"You?" Henry asks in place of an answer. Alex sighs.

"I couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd get some more work done."

Except that, when Alex wants to sleep but can't, he gets up. He'll get a glass of water, or he'll wander down to the kitchen in search of helados, or he'll go to a window for some fresh air. Once, Henry even found him looking up yoga poses in the hallway outside their room. An Alex who wants to sleep but can't is a restless creature, a far cry from the boy gently stroking Henry's hair with a google doc open on his phone. Henry just shakes his head. "No. Stop work. Sleep."

"I can't sleep. I've just got to clean this essay up a bit, and then I can stop worrying about it."

"Please sleep?" Henry asks, finally awake enough for complete sentences. "It'll be there in the morning."

"So will everything else. I just have to get it done; go back to sleep."

"I thought it was done." It's due tomorrow, but Alex had said he'd turned the essay in earlier that day. Henry wonders vaguely if he can re-submit it, or if he'd never actually turned it in.

"It's... fine. It's good enough, maybe, but it's not great. I'm just... making it better so I can turn it in again and have it be great."

"It doesn't need to be great. It's okay. You're working so hard, and you're doing your best, and that's all anyone can ask. You don't need to keep working all the time, you need to sleep. You're enough as you are," Henry says.

Alex finally lets him push the phone down as he rolls over to bury his face in Henry's chest. Henry's a bit surprised, but he pulls Alex in close, rubbing his back as Alex's hands grab onto the pajama shirt Henry wears mostly so that Alex can hold onto him if he needs to, just like this. Henry just holds him until Alex looks up and says, "you're the only one who's ever said that. That I'm good enough, I mean. Other people say... they say I'm smart, or good at things, but then I have to keep being smart and good at things so I don't disappoint them. I always, always have to keep... keep being those things without trying, because if they seem me trying, or if I'm not smart or good at things, then they... it feels like they won't like me. But you... you're the only one who ever says I don't have to be anything more than I am."

"You don't, love. You're enough. Everything you do, everything you are... you're more than enough, and I adore you just how you are. I love how hard you try, but it's... you don't need to. Not for me, at least. For me, just being you is enough."

Alex lets out a snort of a laugh, humorless, his hands still tangled in Henry's shirt. "I... I don't think anyone's really gotten to see me trying before. Maybe June knows, but that's because she's smart and knows everything, not because I let her see. I... really, no one was supposed to know how hard I work. It... I'm supposed to just be naturally good at everything; I'm not supposed to have to try."

"Well, that's not very realistic."

"I know, but it... it's how it's supposed to be."

"Says who?"

"Everyone. I can't be, you know, millennial heartthrob Alex Claremont-Diaz if I have to wear reading glasses, or if I'm skipping parties to write essays, or if I drop out of school because I fail con law and I can never look Professor Westbrook in the eye again." Henry presses a gentle kiss to his forehead, trying to smooth the wrinkles there, as he processes that. He can't promise that the world will love a bespectacled Alex as much as he does, or that anyone in their right mind would understand if a law school student has to focus on a test. So instead, he focuses on the last point, knowing for a fact that Alex's con law grade is miles from forcing him to drop out.

"What do you have in con law right now, Alex?"

"A 98%, I think. But we have a test this week, and that midterm paper isn't in yet."

"I think, with a 98% and a very good paper, you're rather far from failing."

"I still could."

"I'd love you anyway. So would your family, and Nora and Bea and Pez."

"Maybe. You'd all be disappointed, though."

"We wouldn't. Or, well, I wouldn't, at least. Not if you'd done your best."

"If... if I tried and still failed, you wouldn't be disappointed in me?"

"Not at all. I love you, and I don't think I could ever truly be disappointed in you for trying." Alex looks genuinely surprised by that, and Henry's heart breaks a bit as he realizes that Alex wasn't sure of this.

"I'm proud of everything you do," Henry says softly, pressing a kiss to Alex's forehead. "I'm proud of your work ethic, and your drive to make things better. I'm proud of you when you ask for help, and when you give yourself a break, and when you put your life on hold to help people you care about, and when you're able to say no to people because you need to do something for yourself. I am always, always proud of you and the good things you do."

"Really?"

"Really. You don't need to be anything more than who you are and want to be. I'm proud of you, and I love you, and you're enough for me, no matter what."

Alex's phone buzzes from somewhere between them, but Alex ignores it to close his eyes, resting his forehead on Henry's collarbone.

"I'm proud of you. Not the things you've done, not the bits and pieces that you let everyone see. You, fully and completely. You're more than enough to make me happy forever," Henry says softly. Alex takes one deep breath, then another. Henry keeps him close, rubbing gentle circles into his back as Alex slowly accepts the compliment.

"I... I think I needed to hear that. I've been... if I tell you something, will you promise not to be mad or take that back?"

Henry nods, and into his chest, Alex says, "I've been working on study guides and essays from my phone while you sleep. Just for the past few days, but I... I wanted to be able to work, but I didn't want you to worry, so I... I waited for you to fall asleep, and then I'd stay here but work on things until I was too tired to think anymore. I'm sorry I lied. And... and that I pushed too hard. I didn't... it wasn't the plan, it just happened, I guess. I'm sorry. I'll stop."

"It's alright. I mean, it's not... I wish you hadn't, but I'm glad you told me, and I'd like to help you look after yourself. If you need to stay up later to work, you can tell me. If we need to skip a cooking lesson or a dog walk or anything, just say the word, and we'll skip it. I'm proud of how much you want to do well, and I'm proud of you for letting me know you're pushing yourself a bit too much. Could I help with the school stuff at all? Maybe I could quiz you, or grade a multiple choice section of some of the tests if the professor doesn't mind?"

"I... I think the quizzing would be good when I have a study guide. And for grading, I... I'll talk to the professor." Alex doesn't move, so Henry presses a kiss to the top of his head and says, "I love you. And I'm proud of you, I really, really am. You're more than I could have ever dreamed of, and more than enough for me."

Alex's phone buzzes again, and Henry fishes it out from between them by the charging cord, reaching over Alex to set it on the end table, switching it to do not disturb. When both his arms are back around his boyfriend, Alex cuddles in closer. He's snoring softly into Henry's chest within moments.

He's beautiful. Knowing what the days before this have been hurt Henry's heart, knowing that Alex has been so exhausted and that Henry hadn't been able to convince him to look after himself. But this Alex, the one who's finally resting, is beautiful. So Henry holds him close, and he kisses the top of Alex's head, and he swears to anyone who might listen that he's going to look after Alex. He's going to make sure Alex knows that he's proud of and supports him no matter how he does in his classes or internship or anything else. And, from now until the end of time, Henry swears that Alex will know exactly how overwhelmingly, unendingly loved he is.

On AO3

Notes:

Me? Writing something to process the terror of graduating from college when all your options are shut down by a pandemic? Never.

-

Want to support the Hannah-Makes-Art fund? You can tip me in ko-fi here!

[teacherimagines]

Social Distancing

Male tc x Female reader

T/C/N = teacher crush’s name

Y/N = your name

Masterlist

Enjoy!

——————

This quarantine has been driving you crazy. Not only mentally, but also emotionally, physically, and sexually. Going from seeing T/C/N everyday to suddenly not put you in shock. You see him once in a while, on Zoom calls with multiple students. You can’t get his sole attention anymore. You can’t have those innocent glances. You can’t smell his cologne. The cute outfits you wear don’t matter. This was your senior year, and it was all just horrible timing. You’ve probably seen T/C/N for the last time already.

Today was finals, and you finished writing your last essay. As soon as you hit submit, you closed your laptop and laid back on your bed. Another school year for the books. You took a deep breath as you felt the stress roll off of your shoulders. But then a notification went off on your laptop. You felt all the stress creep back, but then you saw that it was an email from T/C/N.

Good Afternoon Y/N,

I hope you have been making it steady through these stressful times. I’ve missed having class with you, you’re a student who reminds me why I teach. Anyways, it’s been an honor getting to know you. I wanted to offer to keep in touch after you graduate, which is why I sent this through my personal email. I want to see how amazing you will do in college and continue our always wonderful conversations.

Best,

T/C/N

You felt butterflies as you read the email. You couldn’t believe your eyes. You replied to his email, taking him up on his offer. He was delighted to hear this, as expected, and the two of you were off to a new chapter in your lives.

The two of you emailed a few times a week, talking about whatever is on your mind and keeping the conversations entertaining. You suggested the idea of meeting in person one day to hang out, but T/C/N seemed unsure about it. You reassured him that you’d be wearing a mask and staying six feet of distance from him. You also said that you could go to a nearby cafe, which has outdoor seating. Sure enough, you were able to convince him to meet up with you.

When the day finally came, you suddenly felt anxious. What were you going to wear? What if today is a fluke and the outfit you wear today is the one he remembers you by? After all the emails, does he still think of you the same? Or has some new sort of fondness developed? What were you going to talk about? How will you keep conversations interesting? What were you going to order? Who’s going to pay? All of these questions flooded your busy mind as you sat on your bed, surrounded by a mountain of clothes.

You ended up choosing one of your favorite outfits, reviewing the emails, reading the news and internet for conversation topics, looking at the cafe menu online, and borrowing $20 from your mom. These tasks answered all of your questions except one: how does he feel about you now?

You drove to the cafe, where T/C/N met you promptly. As soon as you saw him, you felt that familiar, butterfly feeling you would feel when you saw him in the halls at school. When his eyes met yours, he smiled and walked over. “Hi Y/N. Lovely to see you again.” You smiled under your mask. “Hello, T/C/N, good to see you. Now, let’s get coffee.” You jumped to the chase because your mind went blank. You had a million and one things to tell him but being in his presence seemed to clear them all away for you.

You ordered your coffees without hassle, and then sat outside at a table. “Well, Y/N I have to say I am impressed with how well you’re doing. Most kids your age are having a rough time right now.” You nod. “I think it’s because the people in my life are so amazing, it just takes all the stress away.” And when you said people, you actually just meant one person, T/C/N.

The two of you spent a whole hour discussing politics, mental health, and art. It was intellectual, yet personal at the same time. You got to know each other better through the conversation. You forgot how much time had passed until T/C/N realized he had an appointment. “Listen, Y/N. I had a really great time today. Can we make this a thing? Every Friday at 2:00 we meet here?” You agreed. You were so excited that this meeting went well, and that he initiated more.

About a month passed, and each meeting became better and better as the two of you became more comfortable with each other. Somehow, one of the recent conversations turned to dating, and both of you admitted you were single. It didn’t go any further than there, but you realized that either of you could make a move at this point.

At your next meeting, T/C/N suggested a change of scenery, which caught you by surprise. “Like where?” You asked, confused. “Possibly a resturant, or a park or something. Just so we can have new experiences together or something. I don’t know. It’s totally up to you Y/N. Whatever you are comfortable with.” You nodded. “Okay, how about we go out to eat? We could go to applebees.” T/C/N smiled as he sipped a cup of coffee. “It’s a date.” The phrase made your stomach do somersaults. It’s a date. You went home that night in the best mood. You kept repeating the sound of his voice in your head.

When your ‘date’ finally arrived, you were a bit of a nervous wreck. You tried to keep as calm, cool, and collected as possible. You just tried to be the normal Y/N that T/C/N knows. However, T/C/N was not being normal, he was being flirty. You think your nervousness showed a bit. T/C/N probably picked up on this, but didn’t say anything. However, he did offer to take you out on another date, which you gladly accepted. The second one wasn’t as bad, it felt normal like at the cafe. You got used to the flirting, and what responses sounded best.

For your third date, you went mini golfing, where you totally crushed him. It was a good day of laughter and genuine fun. When you were at the last hole, you felt T/C/N’s eyes on you. You couldn’t concentrate on hitting the ball. “What is it?” You look up from the ball to T/C/N’s kind eyes. “Just taking in the beautiful view.” He said simply. “Want to see something more beautiful?” You asked him. “I’d like to see you try.” You couldn’t tell if he was smirking under his mask or not. You bit your lip in concentration as you hit the golf ball and made a hole in one. You jumped out of excitement. “Yes!” T/C/N laughed. “Yes, the view of you in pure joy was more beautiful.” He admitted. You both got quiet for a moment. “Y/N, I’m sorry I just can’t take it anymore.” He took off his mask. He walked towards you slowly. “May I remove your mask?” He asked quietly. You nodded. He gently brought his hands up to pull off your mask. His fingertips gently brushed your ears, leaving a slight tingly sensation. You took a breath of fresh air and smiled. “That’s better.” He said. “Y/N, can I do one more thing? Can I kiss you?” You nodded again. “Yes.” He slowly closed the gap between the two of you and cupped your cheeks with his hands. You closed your eyes and parted your lips. You felt his breath hover over your lips, leaving you in anticipation. Just kiss me already. You said in your head as if you hadn’t been saying it for a few weeks, or months rather. His lips finally touched yours, and you took in their plump sweetness. It was pure bliss kissing him. Your hands rested on the sides of his torso, and he kept pulling your face towards his. He even slipped a little tongue near the end of the kiss, which left you taken by surprise.

“Um, wow.” You said, and you both chuckled. “Yeah, screw this whole distancing thing.” T/C/N said as he pulled you in for another breathtaking kiss.

————

Thank you for reading! My inbox is open for requests!

[cosmiclatte28]

Stunned Sunday (bro Jae x you)

Warning : not an incest! Just a brother  sister imagine... based on my true story.. 

Check it out 😥

“Honey, I’m back! Fresh hot bagel with cheese and turkey and one bottle of apple juice!” Jaehyun greets you from the door.

“Yay! I am also finishing up…” your eyes are still focused on your laptop.

“Finalizing?” Jaehyun drops the food carefully on the table beside your laptop.

You nod, “Yep… I am tired of editing this over and over again! This Honors College essay is already in my laptop for one month! Gotta submit them soon and finally get rid of it from my head.”

“Cool, I remember doing that too in my first year and things were a lot messier, since I procrastinated until one week prior to deadline.” Jaehyun sits on the chair across you.

You finish correcting your essays, reading it one last time, before finally opening up the website to apply.

The page is loading, and you glance to your brother “Wish me luck!”

Jaehyun just reaches his hand out to ruffle your hair, “Good luck!”

You shift your eyes back to the screen just to frown and quickly scroll down the pages. You check the website, re-check the essay requirements and your face turns white.

“Shit-“ you mutter under your breathe.

Quickly you check your email and open the invitation link, just to find the same page displayed before you.

“Jae… it’s different! I swear… you saw it right with me… the requirement last month was about “progress is important than perfection” but now.. now it’s totally different Jae! And look! The other question I must answer are also new.” You raise your voice and Jaehyun quickly rush to your side.

He checks the page and his face shows confusion to.

“Oh no.. I guess the one you were working on was for this year?? The theme for next year is this…” Jaehyun takes over your laptop and goes to check the other pages too.

Your mind goes to blank. You really want to slam your head to the counter now, thinking that what you’ve worked hard for in the last month is futile. Now you need to re-do all the process, think of a new idea, and write it down, edit it and submit them by midnight 1 November.

You glance to the calendar, noting that there are exactly 27 days for you to work before submitting the application.

“Hey look, I know this suck… But I’m here with you okay…Here let me see,” Jaehyun sees you almost falling down from the chair. As a brother, he needs to take care of you and that is exactly what he is doing right now.

Jaehyun runs his mouse to the files, reading through your previous writing and he quickly matches them to the new questions.

“Look, calm down…” he helps you breathe deep and calmer, since you’re starting to panic.

“Here (y/n), this part is suitable to answer this question, while I guess the one where you talk about social work can be placed in this area.” Jaehyun pushes you your laptop back and guides your hands to the keyboard and mouse pad.

You know the drill; he wants you to still be the one doing this. So, with a hazed mind, you copy and paste the new questions and put in slices of your previous work to it.

“Look you answered four questions out of five, and we only need to work on the main essay. The one that will define your acceptance rate. You drink the apple juice down and with tears coming out from your eyes, you continue to choose which part can be re-used.

You’re not crying, not even sobbing. You’re laughing when Jae cracks a joke here and there, but your eyes water and the streams fall down.

“Jae, you see these tears???Why am I giving out tears when I am not crying, Like I am still laughing and doing the things here… why?” You wonder as you wipe the tears off.

Jaehyun pats your back and rubs a soothing hand “It’s okay I know you’re not crying… It’s your emotion. That’s natural…  See I know you’re a strong girl. You’re creative and you can overcome this It’s not your fault!” your brother tries to calm you down and comfort you.

You melt into his embrace and you let out a long huff of air, “I thought this is the end, turns out I have to do this again!”

Jaehyun smoothens your hair and plants a kiss on your crown of hairs, “Hey the good thing is you figured this out sooner… what if you just know this the day before?!”

You smile, “If this happens the night before, guess I’ll give up.”

Jaehyun pushes you away from his body and holds your shoulder firm, he looks into your eyes deeply and with fierce, “No honey. I know you. You’ll probably cry and yell in frustration, but I know you will quickly see how many times is left and you will twist your brain to find a way to answer the essay. Then once you get the answer, you will write it down smooth like a river flow and then when I said something, you’ll probably yell at me.” Jaehyun laughs at his own answer and you too laugh.

You punch him playfully on his chest, “Well yeah that is true. I will most likely finish it, but I don’t know how messy the room will be, or how much your ear and heart hurts from my yelling and stressed words and curses maybe.”

Jaehyun hugs you one more time, “Hey we don’t have to start now okay. You can relax a while today and then when you’re calm you will find your answer. That’s when you will start writing and now let’s enjoy the weekend.” He squishes you a comforting hug and wipes the flowing tears away from your cheek.

“I say we eat bagels and watch Netflix? Or you want to play Among Us?” Jaehyun takes over your files, saves them and shuts your laptop off.

You chug your apple juice down and push a smile after feeling better. Jae is right, in this panic mode you have, you won’t be able to think of anything and now you need to relax.

Jaehyun pinches your cheek, “Now that is my sis I know! Come, don’t think of it… I’ll help you later. But now Mark has created a room and let us play among us!”

You grab your phone and bagel then quickly rush to the good spot on the sofa.

“HURRY JAE!! THE ROOM IS FILLING UP.. GOSSHHH”

Jaehyun smiles and props beside you, his heart is a bit happier now seeing you’re not so down anymore.

THE END. 

BASED ON A REAL STORY OF WHAT HAPPENED TO ME THIS MORNING ☹ just that I have a sister, not a brother like Jaehyun .. 😭😭😭 To anyone dealing with problems and tests, You can do this! We can do this! Himnaseyo!!! Cheer up! Have a nice week end ✨🙌🎉💖

[blisslilywrites]

Hi! Can I ask fluff about Kirisaki Daichi? Their girl doesn't sleep for several nights because of a school project. Please.

A/N: Hii, sorry this took so long 😅it was actually a little difficult to write too cuz we aren’t really familiar with the kirisaki daiichi boys BUT we tried so we hope you like it UwU

HANAMIYA MAKOTO

You stretched in your seat, letting a yawn escape you. 24 hours until the due date. You groaned as you looked at your laptop. This research project was a disaster and you knew it. But you’ve spent the last few nights working on it, so you couldn’t exactly give up now.

Your boyfriend had offered you some help when you first told him about the project. 

“I just so happen to be an expert at [subject name]”

You refused though. You wanted to finish this project and prove to him you were good enough to do it on your own.

“Just let me help you y/n.” 

“No, it’s fine,” you protested with a yawn. “I’m almost done anyway.”

“Yeah almost done being alive.”

You stifled a yawn and blinked at your computer screen before yawning yet again.

Hanamiya sighed. It was honestly cute to see you try so hard. It stopped being cute when you looked like you were going to collapse from exhaustion. 

Deciding he wasn’t just gonna sit back anymore, he took a blanket from the bed and walked over to you. 

“Mako-chan? What--” before you could finish, he wrapped the blanket around your body.

You protested but could slowly feel your body lean into the warmth and comfort of the blanket. Your eyes snapped shut and you drifted off as Hanamiya picked you up off the chair you were in and carried you to the bed. He gently set you down and gave you a soft smile, one he'd never admit to giving. 

“Don't overwork yourself again, OK?” he mumbled, patting your hair. 

HARA KAZUYA

As every second passed by, you felt somnolence slowly conquering you. You felt lifeless as you forced your eyes wide awake but your body tells otherwise. Beside you in your work station was Kazuya who had just finished the boss battle of a super mario video game, seeing your boyfriend in a carefree state made you feel envious, more stressed and insulted for an unknown reason. You wanted to cry, but your eyes were too tired to even comprehend your surroundings. 

"Okay, 10 down. 15 more." You let out an exhausted sigh. 

"Y/N," You heard Kazuya calling you, but you couldn't just get your attention off your work. You had been working for 8 hours straight, and Hara had called you many times but you just couldn't risk your time for a "meaningless" conversation. 

You heard a sound of applause, knowing that your boyfriend had already defeated another boss level. With him who was finished with his game, went to your side. 

"Y/N, you're already too tired. You should rest." He advised, yet you ignored. 

"Heyyy, let's sleep first. It's bad for your health." You maintained your silence. 

"Y/N, please." And for the last time you just wished he would shut up. You slammed your palm against the lumbers of your work station, turned to him with wobbly eyes and well, cracked. 

"It's easy for you to say! Well, I wish I could also defeat the final level of this project. You were just playing there being carefree while me?! I just want to pass, that's all. So please Kazuya.. just.. just.." Your face shimmered with tears rolling down your cheeks. Your voice desired one thing: to get your project over with. You wiped your tears away with shaky hands whilst your tears kept on flowing.

Hara didn't reply. In fact, he turned and walked away then you heard the sound of a door being shut.

You ate your tears and enervation and continued to do your work.

Hara didn't do anything wrong. In fact, he never did. 

Five minutes had passed and you barely progressed. But also within five minutes, Hara came back. He took a seat then placed it next to you with your work station. He brought your favorite food, his own laptop and a pillow neck. 

"Y/N.. so I'm sorry for earlier.. I know you are stressed and all but your assignment would lose its point if you die. So please, tell me anything you need to do and I'll help."

FURUHASHI KOJIRO

You were sitting in bed next to your boyfriend. A pencil in hand, a notebook on your lap, and a pile of papers scattered around you. It wasn’t exactly your fault your teacher decided to make your week hell by giving you a nearly impossible assignment to complete by Friday. You were extremely annoyed and upset and angry and mad and tired and sleepy.

You shook your head in an attempt to drive the sleepiness away.

“Y/n. Why can’t you forget about your homework and go to sleep?”

“Koji, it’s not just some homework. It’s a quarterly project that’s not supposed to be this hard,” you groaned.

He gave you a small look. You knew what he was trying to say though. And you’re just gonna work yourself to the brink of death over some project?

“Look I need to pass this class ok? So just let me work on this for a few more hours.”

You weren’t sure if you could last a few more hours though. Your eyelids have been heavy all day, and you’ve been yawning non-stop.

Guess there’s no choice but to muscle through, you thought to yourself.

At that moment, you felt his arms wrap around your waist, softly pulling you towards him.

“Y/n”

“I told you just let me work on this for a bit more,” you protested, trying to sound angry.

“We both know you’re not gonna last, so do yourself a favor and get some rest for now. You can continue it in the morning.”

He pulled you closer.

You tried to find an excuse to stay up but your brain was beyond exhausted.

“Ok,” you replied softly.

With that, he wrapped his arms fully around you and hugged you tight to his chest. You fell asleep within minutes. Once he made sure you were asleep, he quietly cleaned up and organized all your work before climbing back into bed with you.

SETO KENTARO

Seto Kentaro always liked your intelligence and the stubbornness that came with it. However, he wasn't liking it very much now when he came over to your house in the morning to find you buried in a pile of papers and notebooks. You had bags under your eyes and a huge thermos of coffee beside you. In all honesty, he could only sit and stare at you in disbelief.

‘No, you did not just spend the entire night working on that stupid project,’ he thought to himself.

“Y/N?”

“Huh? Ken-chan?” you said in a soft voice. You could barely keep your eyes open. “What time is it?”

He let out a deep sigh.

“It's time for you to go to sleep babe.”

“But...I’m not yet done,” you protested weakly. 

“Then I’ll finish it for you.”

“But--”

He lifted you up from the chair and carried a protesting-you over to the bed.

“But what? You already wrote out everything in your notebook right? I just have to type it up for you that’s all.”

He plopped you down and you looked at him with tired eyes.

“I won’t even change that terrible grammar of yours,” he added with a wink.

“Excuse me?”

“Look here, you’re extremely tired and I know how much your studies mean to you. So here I am telling you to shut up and go sleep while I help you finish it. Don’t look at me like that, I’m actually a really nice and helpful guy.”

You snickered. “Yeah right. Go tell that to the guys you play basketball against.”

“Are you gonna accept my help or not?” he said with a serious face.

You sighed in defeat, fatigue and exhaustion slowly taking over your body.

“Thank you Ken-chan,” you muttered, pulling the blanket over your body.

He let out a small smile.

“Goodnight y/n”

YAMAZAKI HIROSHI

You slapped yourself awake for the millionth time. It was well past midnight but you still had a lot to do. That essay wasn’t going to write itself and you weren’t resting until it was finished.

But I guess it's fine if I just close my eyes for one second…

SLAP. Nope I gotta finish this. Just a few paragraphs left.

You stared at your notes thoughtlessly and took another sip of coffee before starting to type. The bedroom door creaked open and you heard the soft footsteps of your boyfriend walking in.

“Still not done?”

You shook your head and continued typing.

What felt like an eternity had passed and you had finished about three-quarters of the paper.

“Y/n,” Yamazaki said in a soft voice.

You hadn’t really been paying much attention to your surroundings and was a little startled by him. You turned around to look at him and saw him holding out a metal flask towards you.

“Some more coffee.”

When he saw the confusion on your face, he added, “This one’s pretty strong. It should keep you up until morning.”

You took it from him with a small smile and quickly went back to work.

After a few more hours, you finally finished it, submitted it, and crawled into bed to get whatever little sleep you could before school started.

When you woke up you realized two things. First, your boyfriend had already left. Second, you were extremely late for school.

You quickly got ready and rushed to school.

In between one of your classes, you ran into Yamazaki in the hallway.

“Hiro-chan, thanks for that coffee last night, but you know, you didn’t have to stay up.”

“Don’t worry about it. I took that class last year so you could say I’ve been through it too...” You could tell he was trying his best to play it off cool. But instead of saying anything, you just gave him a big smile and a quick peck on the cheek before running off to your next class.

MATSUMOTO ITSUKI

The sun had already set when you and Matsumoto left the library. It had been one long afternoon of tedious researching, but now you were confident that you could finish the assignment by tomorrow.

“Y/N, it's getting a little late. Wanna grab something to eat before we go home?” 

“Hmm sure,” you replied absentmindedly, too focused on the notes on your phone.

Once you two were finished eating and arrived home, you immediately went back to work putting your 100% into finishing this assignment. 

About a few hours later, you realized you had left your bag with a lot of important information in the library. You started panicking slightly. There was still so much to do. You couldn't afford to waste time by going all the way back to the library.

Some things can't be helped I guess…

You quickly grabbed a coat and rushed to the front door. Before you reached it though, you felt a strong hand grab your arm.

“Woah y/n, where are you going?”

“The library. I left my bag there and I really need it…”

“Oh, well it's not safe for you to go alone. I'll go with you.”

“OK…” you said hesitantly.

“What? Is there something wrong?” he asked with concerned eyes.

“No, it's just that I still have a lot left to finish and I'm not sure if I can make it through tonight that's all,” you answered softly.

Truth is this assignment has drained you both physically and mentally. At this point, you weren't sure how much longer you would last.

Matsumoto suddenly engulfed you in a tight hug.

“Y/N, if you're feeling too stressed you can just go to sleep. I'll go talk to your teacher tomorrow. Maybe ask if you could submit it later instead.”

You smiled at his words. He really was too sweet. Knowing how much he cared kind of re-lit that drive to finish this project.

“It's fine Tsuki-chan. You don't have to do that for me. I'll finish it.”

He looked at you skeptically. “Then I'll go get your bag and you stay here and continue whatever part of the project you can. Is that OK?”

Your tired eyes met his and you gave him a small smile and a nod.

“Thank you, Tsuki-chan.”

[lannee]

even my phone misses your call (by the way) - part 1

jo yeong x koo seo ryeong fanfic

AO3: link

_

It’s only 9:30 and the Prime Minister is already on the verge to implode.

If she has to endure another unnecessarily stupid conversation with the men existed within 10m of her seat, she might truly lose it. So she shuts them up, and walks towards the door. She can hear it vividly in the air, through the look in their eyes, “What a cocky brat, leaving again in the middle of an important meeting, with so many elite people twice her age”. As if she actually cares, as if she has the time to ponder over whatever nasty things they think of her.

She gave up doing that years ago. Koo Seo Ryeong did not crawl her way out of a fish market and become the youngest female Prime Minister of Corea to put up with some 60 year old men’s bullshit. So of course she leaves, whispering death threats to Secretary Kim for not doing his job properly and forcing her to attend another useless meeting that can just be a goddamn report on her table.

Back to the office, she walks straight to her private balcony after taking out a pack of cigarettes she secretly keeps in the room. Seo Ryeong is not a regular smoker, not silly enough to sustain an addictive habit that can damage her impeccable skin. But here she is, stressed out of her mind, holding the lighter so very close she can almost feel the nicotine coming in like waves. Then out of nowhere, she thinks of him.

She thinks of 20 year old Jo Yeong, to be exact. Standing in front of her under the heavy July rain while carefully taking the cigarette out of her soft lips. Jo Yeong with his navy umbrella. Always managed to find her at her worst, always be there next to her without saying anything because words were usually wasted when you talked to Koo Seo Ryeong.

God, he really ruins cigarettes for her. She throws the whole pack into the trash bin along with the one on her lips.

She hates him so much, it almost makes her want to see him just to say that to his face.

But they do not do things like that anymore.

_

When Yeong passed the entrance exam of Corea National University, Seo Ryeong was books deep into her Master degree in Political Science and International Relations. He instantly became popular in the campus for being the King’s closest friend, with rumors about him floating around every lecture that she attended. She studied with Lee Gon for years and never met him or his friends outside, but whenever they talked he always mentioned Yeong’s name and stories about what they did together in the palace.

She listened tentatively to everything he said not because she had a huge crush on him and wanted to be his Queen, as every jealous fangirl in the campus always thought of her, but because she needed to know every deep dark secret of the King of Corea. She knew it would tremendously help her career as a politician in the future. That was the reason why she followed him around like an innocent puppy, the pretty girl with a lovely figure who came from the dirty market and scored the highest grade on the insanely difficult entrance exam. She beat out Gon fair and square, sometimes late at night she even dreamed about taking the throne of his to herself. If people knew about her thoughts, they would laugh at her and spit on her face but frankly, she thought if she wanted it enough, she could be the Queen of Corea. With or without Gon by her side.

When Gon introduced Yeong to her for the first time, she could not read his face at all. She was used to be so good at knowing people after the first meeting, but Yeong stirred her curiosity and she felt strangely intrigued by him. Maybe it was because he did not talk much, he had an incredibly calm expression and most of the times he only looked at Gon. He acted like a well-trained bodyguard around the King, which she found quite hilarious. Gon already had an army walking around him every step, and with Yeong by his side it felt even impossible to her how she could still hang out with them so casually. She and Gon both knew they worked perfectly together as a team. Even when they had zero interest in each other romantically, she earned her place to be by his side and let’s be honest, he would never pass any group project without her insights and intelligence. It took Yeong a while to understand this, he was always careful and silent when she was around. She could feel him trying to crack her facade, as if he was able to see through her 10 year plan of becoming the Prime Minister of Corea.

He did not trust her, and it annoyed her how she cared about that more than she thought.

-

It started out with Seo Ryeong simply wanting to earn Yeong’s approval. She tried to ask him personal questions, which he only gave out vague answers that did not satisfy her at all. They even went together to a few field trips exclusively for the university’s top students, and girls followed him around all day hopelessly asking for his phone number. Sometimes he intentionally tried to find Seo Ryeong and asked her to go out for a walk in order to escape their horny fellow students. Everybody seemed to be intimidated whenever they saw her. She made fun of him every single time, “How desperate you are to come to me for help”. Gon never went with them on those trips due to security reasons, obviously. It surprised her how much she enjoyed having Yeong all for herself. He bought her food after their walk and one time somehow they ended up drinking beer together in Gyeongju. He told her about his family, mostly to subdue the awkwardness between them, and even asked her about things she never cared to share with anyone. They were both not a fan of getting deep and personal, their stories ended quickly and strangely left her longing for more. She did not know how to talk to him without sounding premeditated. Only with him did she feel like maybe she was not good enough. Maybe she needed to live life differently, to drop the act and let him see all of her calculations.

That was when she unknowingly started flirting with him a bit. She tried that with Gon years ago until they both realized the true intention of being in each other’s life. Then she did it with Yeong because there seemed to be no other way to get closer to him, she was kind of impatient and definitely not herself. She started drinking a lot around that time because of all the essays she had to write, relationships with important people she had to maintain while staying alert around Yeong and waiting for him to be under her control.

A week before she submitted her final thesis, she did the most stupidly cliche thing ever, and that was drunk calling Jo Yeong while she was out drinking alone. She was fed up with reading and writing and living alone in the city. Most nights she could not sleep peacefully and had no idea when the last time she ate a proper meal. So she drove to the closest bar she could find and drank half a bottle of expensive whiskey which would cost a lot of the money that she made working part time. She counted in her head how many days were left before she could stop with the pretentious studying and actually start working on her long overdue plans. Five glasses led to nine, then some guys came over offering to buy her drinks. She remembered being sober enough to drop mean words and scare most of them away. One guy stuck around for so long and was shamelessly insistent about bringing her home, she had to pull the boyfriend-coming-here-very-soon card. She knew she was completely intoxicated when she pressed his name on her phone. There was no way she would come out of the bar safely if she didn’t call someone she could trust.

“Noona, it’s 2 AM. What’s going on?”, he picked up after a few seconds and said boringly. Like he was about to fall asleep but she appeared out of nowhere and prevented that from happening.

She chuckled, regretting whatever she was doing in the back of her mind, “I don’t know, why don’t you come here and find out?”

“And where are you exactly?”, he signed.

She told him the address, and imagined him wondering why he even answered her call. She was so drunk, the thought of him not coming at all actually scared her. The guy next to Seo Ryeong kept on persuading her to go with him, to leave her fictitious boyfriend behind and stop acting hard to get. She laughed in disgust without batting an eye and continued drinking. The funny thing was none of the guys dared to touch her for too long, she guessed she had that kind of power. Time passed slowly and she was convinced Yeong did not care enough to drive all the way here from the palace to deal with someone he never really trusted. So when he called out her name from behind, she almost fell from the stool where she was sitting. Then everything suddenly happened too quick, too fast.

Yeong held her upright, one hand caressing her face, the other tugging her messy hair behind her ears. He asked for the bill and paid for it. She leaned her head on his chest during the whole card transaction, when he had to sign the bill his arms surrounded her. He was wearing a black linen shirt and dark jeans. Did he always smell this good? She buried her face in his neck absentmindedly and inhaled his scent. She could feel Yeong stopped abruptly in the middle of asking the bartender about something related to her drunken state. He wanted to know if she was alone the whole time, and she kind of imagined him not wanting any guy near her. Then he carried her out the front door, the early summer heat was suffocating and she told him she wanted to lie down somewhere. He quickly put her on the passenger seat of his car and she tugged on his shirt to pull him closer while he was trying to secure the seatbelt.

Seo Ryeong woke up in the morning with the worst headache ever. Her room smelled faintly of vomit. She panicked for exactly 10 seconds while everything from the night before flashing through her mind. She did not remember anything at all after entering Yeong’s car. She still wore the same clothes from last night, covered by her warm blanket. Her room seemed pretty clean, maybe he helped her to the bathroom before she made a mess of herself... For the first time in her life, she wanted to end her existence right there. While trying to grab the phone she saw a bottle of hangover cure on her bedside table. There was a text from him, sent 2 hours ago, “Drink it, cook some soup, text me when you’re awake.”

Could a heart ever get swollen? Because it felt like hers kind of did. She prayed to all the Gods above she did not say anything stupid to him during the drive home.

.

.

.

it’s been awhile since i wrote a fanfic. i didn’t know i needed to write a fanfic for these 2 incredible characters until i read this by @rain-hat​ - thank you for inspiring me dear. writing this is fun because i kind of know they’ll never be canon lmao. so i just went wild with my imagination. i’ll post part 2 maybe this weekend after the new episodes come out. hopefully there will be some scenes of them together. i literally only watch Eun Chae and Do Hwan’s scenes and skip the rest of this drama. please tell me i’m not the only one! 

title is from From the dining table - my fav song by Harry <3

hope you enjoy this!

[whumphoarder]

D is for Diploma

Summary: Between all of his commitments, Peter’s grades start slipping, putting him in danger of losing his academic scholarship to Midtown. Stressed and guilt-ridden about the effect this will have on May’s finances, he ends up worrying himself sick and having a breakdown in Tony’s lab.

Word count: 3,759

Genre: emotional hurt/comfort, angst, hurt/comfort

A/N: Thanks so much to @xxx-cat-xxx and @sallyidss for beta reading and encouragement <3

Link to read on Ao3

“But how are you getting a C in gym class?” Ned balks at his friend. He’s peering over Peter’s shoulder as he scrolls through his quarterly grades on the school library computer. “Everyone gets an A. I’m getting an A. All you gotta do is show up and at least look like you’re trying and boom, automatic A.”

Peter rubs a hand at the back of his neck sheepishly. “So, remember after the Rhino dude attacked me, how I had all those bruises that didn’t heal right away?”

“Yeah...” Ned recalls, frowning. “But you said they didn’t hurt.”

“They didn’t! Not really, anyway,” Peter says quickly. “But like, I didn’t really want everyone to see that, so I kinda didn’t change into my uniform. And apparently if you don’t change, Wilson just marks you as absent.”

“Ah.” Ned gives him a sympathetic wince. “Yeah, that’s lame.”

“What I don’t understand,” MJ pipes up, glancing up from the book she’s had her nose in all afternoon, “is the D in Spanish. Rodríguez isn’t even a hard teacher.”

Peter’s face flushes with embarrassment. “So… I might have forgotten to submit a couple assignments.”

She quirks an eyebrow. “You forgot? He reminds us what’s due, like, three times every class period.”

“I mean, it was just the take-home quiz...” he mumbles. “And some of the homework sheets. Oh, and that cultural essay thing about the ancient Mayans.”

“Peter.” She blinks at him. “That was like, twenty percent of our grade.”

“Well, to be fair, I did have a concussion,” he defends. “It was a little hard to remember stuff that week.”

Ned rolls his eyes. “Oh yeah, that makes it so much better.”

Peter huffs out a laugh. Honestly, between all the hours he’s been logging lately as Spider-Man, his frequent internship nights with Tony in the lab, the increasingly demanding decathlon practice schedule as their team moves toward regionals, and the weekend shifts he’s started picking up at Delmar’s (because, let’s face it, the vigilante life isn’t the most lucrative career path—the occasional free churro notwithstanding), Peter thinks he’s been doing quite well juggling everything. Sure, his grades aren’t quite the neat row of A’s and the occasional B he’s grown accustomed to throughout his school career, but it’s not like he’s failing anything.

“I’ve just got different priorities now,” Peter says with a shrug. “I still show up and I’m passing all my classes, so what does the grade matter?”

MJ returns the shrug, looking vaguely impressed with him. “It doesn’t really. I’ve always been morally opposed to using arbitrary numerical values as a measure of academic success.” She shifts her gaze back to her novel before adding, offhandedly, “But you gotta admit, the tuition break is nice.”

And in those nine little words, she might as well have punched him in the gut.

“Oh shit,” Peter breathes out. Hurriedly, he starts gathering books together and getting to his feet.

“What?” Ned asks, looking puzzled.

“Um, I gotta go,” he blurts. And then before anyone can say another word, he’s out of the library doors.

X

The Parkers aren’t poor, exactly.

May works full-time at her job as a neonatal nurse, besides picking up extra shifts one or two nights a month to give them a bit of cushion. Between her wages and the social security checks that come every month from Ben’s pension, the two of them get by. Sure, Peter might not have name-brand clothes or the coolest tech or even a pair of gym shoes without a bit of duct tape on the soles, but there’s always been food on the table and a roof over his head, so Peter’s never stressed that much about their financial situation.

Maybe that’s how he managed to completely forget about his academic scholarship.

He’s qualified for it ever since he passed Midtown’s entrance exams in the top tenth percentile back in eighth grade. The money is substantial—slightly over two-thirds of the tuition cost is paid for him—and the scholarship automatically renews every semester provided he maintains a grade point average of 3.3 or higher, which has never been a problem for him.

That is, up until now. Factoring in his B in history, the C’s in gym and trig, and his D in Spanish, his GPA is currently sitting at 2.9.

Peter is going to lose his scholarship.

X

With less than two weeks left before finals, Peter starts cramming in all the studying he can manage. He stays up late, pouring over his trigonometry notes, trying to work his way through all the practice problems he’s been slacking on. He makes a point of showing up three minutes early to gym class every day, even if he has to use a bit of his enhanced speed to get all the way there from the chem labs on the other side of the building. On the train, he quizzes himself on the names of historical figures and the dates of battles long-since fought. Some of his teachers are willing to work with him, letting him turn in late assignments for partial credit or giving him additional projects to complete.

And then there’s Spanish.

“Isn’t there some kind of extra credit project I can do?” Peter begs. “Anything?”

It’s his study hall period and he’s at Señor Rodríguez’s desk for the second day in a row, desperately hoping for anything that could give his grade the boost it needs.

“I’m sorry, Peter,” his teacher says, sounding genuinely regretful. “But you’ve had countless opportunities this semester to get your grade up via homework and test retakes, all of which you neglected to take advantage of. Coming to me with less than ten days left in the semester requesting make up work for assignments worth significant percentages of your grade is simply too little, too late.”

“But… I had a concussion that week,” Peter argues. “Like, right when it was all due. And I would have done the work before, but…” He trails off, unable to finish his sentence without explaining his unorthodox extracurriculars. “I...I was busy,” he concludes weakly.

Rodríguez raises an eyebrow a little skeptically. “I didn’t receive any notes from the nurse’s office about this concussion.”

Peter glances down to his feet. “Well, that’s because she didn’t know, exactly…”

No one did—not even May. After getting all those bruises the week before, Peter didn’t want anyone to know he was hurt again so soon. Apparently Karen hadn’t deemed the blow to the head he took severe enough to override his wishes. He’d just dealt with the headaches and brain fog the best he could and sort of floated through that week on his own. In hindsight, maybe not his best plan.

“Well, I guess this is a good life lesson for you then, Peter,” Rodríguez says. His voice is firm, but not unkind. “Part of growing up is taking responsibility and learning to communicate with authority figures before you get into trouble.”

“Right, and I get that,” Peter babbles, “I just—”

His teacher holds up a finger, quieting him. “My job is to train my students for success in the real world, and sometimes that means reminding you that actions have consequences. ¿Lo entiendes?”

And Peter finds himself nodding. Because, despite the pool of dread growing in his gut, he does understand. He wants to be mad, wants to say it’s unfair and the universe gave him a raw deal and he doesn’t deserve this. But he can’t. Rodríguez is right.

And Peter’s still fucked.

X

By the time Friday rolls around, Peter’s barely functioning. Besides all the extra assignments and studying for finals, he’s had three days in a row of Decathlon practices, followed by some particularly eventful evening patrols that all went quite a bit later than his usual curfew of ten p.m.

He can’t get much of his lunch down today, which does nothing to appease his friends’ concerned looks. The food seems tasteless in his mouth and he’s so tired he nearly nods off into his cafeteria chicken nuggets.

When school finally lets out, he’s surprised and a little disheartened to see the sleek black car waiting for him in the bus circle. He’d totally forgotten it was an internship weekend.

Figures.

X

Peter groans as he disconnects the circuits he just switched out. He’s been trying to fix a bug in his suit’s heater upgrade for the last twenty minutes now, but nothing he attempts is working and his head is throbbing so much that his vision is hazy.

“Just try again, kid,” Tony encourages absently from across the workshop. He’s not looking up, fully engrossed as he is in his own project. “You got this.”

“Yeah...” Peter mutters under his breath. Blinking a few times, he rubs a hand at his eyes to try to clear his vision.

He connects a different wire. That one doesn’t yield any better results, so he unplugs it and tries again. Then again. Then again. He’s fairly sure he’s already tried the next combination, but he’s so tired he can’t remember so he does it again just to be sure. Nothing.

Peter is so frustrated now that his hands are actually shaking. He pauses and takes a deep breath before trying again.

This time, the wire sparks at him.

“I can’t do this!” Peter exclaims, shoving the suit away from him across the table. “I can’t do anything! Why am I so fucking stupid?!”

He’s breathing heavily now, tears clouding his vision even further. Within a few seconds he feels Tony’s hand rest heavily on his shoulder. It should be comforting, but it only makes Peter feel pathetic.

“C’mon, just take a deep breath and—”

“No!” Peter blurts, shaking away from Tony’s grip. “That’s not going to fix anything! I can’t fix this—don’t you see?!”

Stepping backwards, Tony holds his hands up in front of his chest, keeping his expression perfectly neutral. “Okay…” he says carefully. “I think you might need a break.”

Tears prick at Peter’s eyes and he instantly regrets snapping at his mentor. “No, no, I didn’t mean that! I’m s-sorry, ’m fine…” he says. It would probably sound a lot more convincing if his breath would stop hitching.

Tony lifts an eyebrow. “Yeah, no, I’m pulling rank here,” he declares. “It’s break time.”

“No!” Peter protests. His hands fumble back on the table for the wires.  “I gotta finish it! It’s so close, it’s just—” He cuts himself off as the images of the suit swim before his eyes, his head throbbing. “I, I need to finish…” he concludes lamely.

“Peter, just stop,” Tony says with an exasperated sigh. “You’re no good like this.”

Somehow, those words are the catalyst. Peter feels every emotion he’s been bottling up for the past week erupt inside of him. His breath hitches and his head pulses. “I, I know I’m not,” he manages to say, “but that’s why I gotta… gotta finish, then maybe—”

“Jesus, kid,” Tony breathes out. “That’s not what I meant at all. I was just saying—”

Peter cuts him off. “No, I… I know…” Tears are sliding down Peter’s cheeks now. He runs a hand through his hair, shoulders shaking. “’M sorry.”

Tony’s eyes are a mixture of concern and confusion. “Whoa, hey, what’s going on here?” Tugging the edge of his sleeve over his thumb, Tony uses it to wipe a few of the tears off his cheeks. “Talk to me.”

Honestly, Peter doesn’t even know where to begin. The frustration of his current project, the lack of sleep, his grades, the scholarship…

“I just… I-I have a headache.”

Peter doesn’t know why he says it—the pressure in his skull doesn’t even rank very high on his list of concerns at the moment, yet the simple physicality of it somehow makes it the easiest thing to admit. He rubs the back of his hand at his eyes, but his vision is still so blurry. “Can’t really see straight…”

Tony’s brows knit together. “Is it a migraine?”

“N-No,” Peter says between choked sobs. “Or... I don’t know, I don’t th-think so?” Despite never having had a migraine, he’s pretty sure that’s not what this is. The pain isn’t anything exceptional—it’s just that he can’t seem to stop crying and he’s so fucking tired.

“Either way, I think you’ll feel better once you’ve got a couple painkillers in you,” Tony reasons. “C’mon, let’s get you sorted out.”

Peter shakes his head in weak protest. “No, ’s’okay... “

“Nope,” Tony says, his voice a little more firm. “Trust me on this, you don’t want to work in a lab right now. It’s bright, and loud, and honestly, you’re a bit of a safety hazard at the moment.”

To Peter’s horror, a fresh wave of emotion comes over him and he finds himself properly crying now, his frame wracking with each sob.

“Okay, okay, alright…” Tony murmurs, and Peter feels a hand awkwardly patting him on the back.

It’s all so idiotic, Peter decides, standing in Tony’s lab, crying over things that are completely his own fault and a headache that isn’t even that bad.

“You’re okay, kid,” Tony whispers. “Just breathe.”

As Peter struggles to pull himself together, he feels the hand switch to rubbing circles on his back. It moves up to the back of his neck, but halts as soon as Tony’s fingers touch Peter’s bare skin.

Tony frowns. “Do you have a fever?”

“Wh-What?” Peter’s throat is thick.

“You’re really warm,” Tony explains. He flips his hand around to press the back of his fingers to Peter’s skin, first on his neck, then on his cheek. “Yeah. FRIDAY, can we get a read on that?”

“100.7, boss,” she supplies.

Tony hums a bit. “Yeah, that’s about what I thought…”

Peter doesn’t get it. “B-But I’m not sick,” he protests. “Just—”

“Exhausted,” Tony finishes for him. “When’s the last time you had a full night’s sleep?”

Sniffling, Peter gives a non-committal shrug.

“Yeah, that’s not good, kid,” Tony huffs. “Take it from a guy who has a bit of experience in this area—not sleeping enough will seriously mess you up.”

With a hand on Peter’s back, Tony starts gently ushering the kid out of the lab. Peter doesn’t even bother protesting anymore as he shuffles along, his lip quivering. He figures he’s caused enough trouble today.

Tony deposits him onto the couch in the living room and Peter immediately curls up against the arm rest, squeezing his eyelids shut in an effort not to think about what a fool he’s making of himself in front of his mentor. It doesn’t help much.

“You just chill out for a minute here, okay?” Tony says quietly, draping a blanket over Peter. “I’m gonna get you some meds.”

Peter nods and Tony gives his shoulder a final squeeze before stepping out.

The second he’s alone, the tears start streaming down again, hot and silent and totally uncontrollable. If he’s not working in the lab, then he really should be studying for these stupid finals, but he can’t bring himself to pull out his flash cards. He doesn’t think he can rest—not with so much hanging over his head—but he can’t work either. Tony was right; he’s just no good right now.

When Tony reenters with painkillers and a glass of water, he doesn’t say anything about how Peter is hurriedly sitting up and scrubbing his face with his hands in a pointless attempt to pull himself together. He just presses two pills into Peter’s palm.

Looking down at the painkillers in his shaking hand, Peter’s stomach twists and he’s suddenly not so sure they’ll be able to stay down. “I can’t. I feel sick,” he admits in a whisper.

With a quiet sigh, Tony perches himself on the edge of the sofa, right beside Peter’s tucked knees. “I think you’re just tired, kiddo. Sometimes that makes you feel a little sick.”

Peter doesn’t say anything so Tony passes him the glass of water. “Here. Humor me,” he says. “If I’m wrong, I’ll pay for the dry cleaning.”

It’s a stupid joke, but the corners of Peter’s lips twitch anyway. “Okay,” he croaks.

Peter slips the pills into his mouth and swallows them down with a sip of water. He’s queasy, but it’s not too bad. He goes to set the cup back down on the coffee table, but his mentor shakes his head.

“Drink the whole thing,” Tony instructs.

Peter obeys. It takes him a couple of minutes, but he manages to get the entire cup down and feels just the smallest bit better for it.

Tony takes the empty glass from his hand and sets it on the table. “Think you can sleep now?”

Peter just shrugs. He wants to—god, he wants to—but he doesn’t deserve it. Not when this is all his own damn fault. His voice is barely a whisper when he speaks again:

“I think I really messed up, Mr. Stark.”

X

Over the next ten minutes, it all comes tumbling out: the job at Delmar’s, the decathlon requirements, the late patrols, his slipping grades, his scholarship, everything.

“I just… I don’t want to change schools,” Peter concludes softly. “I like Midtown. It was the first place I really felt like… well, like I fit in.”

Tony’s been quiet for the whole time Peter was speaking, but now his brow furrows. “Why would you need to quit Midtown?”

Peter blinks at him; isn’t it obvious? “Because the full tuition is eight thousand dollars a semester. Without the scholarship…” he trails off. “I just can’t do that to May.”

A look of relief spreads across Tony’s face. “Is that all? That’s the whole issue?” He huffs out an amused breath. “Done. Consider it paid. Problem solved.”

Peter feels his cheeks flush. He shakes his head frantically. “No, no, I didn’t mean that you should pay! Please don’t do that!”

Now it’s Tony’s turn to blink at him. “Peter. I am a multi-billionaire. Do you have any idea what eight thousand dollars is to me?”

“But you shouldn’t have t—”

“Peanuts,” Tony cuts him off. “I’ve spent more on peanuts than that.”

“But—”

“And by that I mean actual, honest-to-god peanuts,” Tony continues over the kid’s protests. “There’s this company in Peru that slow-roasts them for twenty-one days in a secret spice blend. Happy’s obsessed with ‘em—says they’re god’s gift to mankind. So, for Christmas one year—”

“You can’t pay my tuition!” Peter blurts out.

Tony stops his story abruptly. His eyes narrow at Peter. “And why exactly is that?”

“Because…” Running a hand through his hair, Peter draws in a shuddery breath. “Because… If anyone should pay, it’s me. I-I’m the one who fucked up and lost the stupid scholarship. I should be the one responsible for fixing this.”

“But you can’t fix it,” Tony says bluntly.

Peter’s caught off-guard. “Wh-What? N-No, I just need to get my grades up, and, and…”

Tony’s voice is gentler now. “You can’t, Peter. You can’t get a 2.9 up to a 3.3 by next week, no matter how well you do on your exams. You’ve gotta know that.”

(Peter does know. He’s known for days. He’s always been good at math, after all.)

“So you can’t keep going on like this, trying to make up for what happened,” Tony concludes.

Tears prick at the corners of Peter’s eyes once more. He’s determined not to let them fall this time. “But I deserve it…” he whispers.

Tony shrugs. “If we always got what we deserved, I never would have made it through the 90s.” He huffs out a short laugh. “At least nobody has to bail you out of prison. Same can’t be said for all of us.”

In spite of Peter’s earlier resolve, the traitorous tears slip out anyway. He wonders how he has any left.

Tony sobers a bit. “You’re a good kid, Pete,” he says quietly. “But you’re trying to carry the whole world on your shoulders and that’s enough to break anyone. It’s okay to ask for help sometimes. Even if you fucked up.”

Peter swallows hard. “Okay.”

“So let’s try this again,” Tony says. He makes eye contact with Peter. “What do you need, kid?”

“Right now?” Peter exhales deeply. “I dunno. A nap?”

Tony smirks slightly. “I think we can manage that.”

X

Peter makes it through finals.

All his extra effort and studying does yield some results. His gym grade increases to a B after Coach Wilson grades his two-page extra credit report on the rules of badminton. The trig final is rough, but he pulls in another couple points there, and the art teacher accepts a few late sketches from the unit on perspectivism. With the help of the final exam, he even manages to eek out a C- in Spanish.

When it’s all said and done, Peter’s GPA sits at 3.1.

“That wasn’t easy to do. I’m proud of you, Peter,” May says sincerely. “You know that, right?”

Peter shrugs. “I guess so.”

They’re sitting together at the apartment’s small kitchen table, May’s open laptop in front of them with all of Peter’s end of semester grades displayed. Peter’s eyes drift down from the screen to the table where a check for eight thousand dollars signed by Tony Stark himself is staring back at him. He sighs.

May plants a quick kiss on the top of her nephew’s head. “Well, I know so. So for now, I’ll just know it for the both of us.”

Peter strokes his fingers over the crisp paper of the check. Besides covering tuition, Tony has now upgraded Peter’s unofficial SI internship to a paid position—something he says he should have done long ago, given how much time Peter spends working in the lab—and that will allow him to give Mr. Delmar his two-week notice.

He knows he should be grateful, but honestly, it’s going to take him some time to wrap his head around the concept of being taken care of like this.

Getting up from the table, May moves over to retrieve a small paper bag from the counter. “That reminds me—Mr. Stark told me to give you this.” She tosses the bag to Peter, who catches it easily.

Curiously, he opens it. He’s immediately hit with the aroma of exotic spices and roasted legumes. Peter can’t help but grin.

A note inside the bag reads: Enjoy your peanuts, kid.

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, you might also like: 

Viral Wisdom

Go Down Swinging

A Pressing Emergency

Fic Masterlist

[televinita]

I just got an offer to be a Team Leader at the seasonal test-scoring place. I have about an hour left to accept it, so I’m going to, but it’s the worst idea ever.

See, when I agreed in 2019 that I was interested in being a TL, I was flying high on being awesome at one of the 4-week-maximum night projects I do every year, and thought, I could absolutely lead people on this. I was already helping my seatmates with questions from time to time. I was freaked out by training in 2020, but I never had to be one due to COVID ending things. That should have been a sign -- “look, you got one last SUPER SERENDIPITOUS CHANCE not to do this!” -- but I accepted the training again this year, forgetting the crucial difference until it was too late that since I lost my regular job, I was gonna switch to days this year. See, night crew are cool. Super casual. Been hanging’ w/ them for almost 10 years. Day people are VERY BUSINESSLIKE and scary. Just being a scorer on day shift would have been overwhelming enough.

But the TL position I just got is HELLA scary in so many different HOW THE HELL DO YOU THINK I AM QUALIFIED FOR THIS ways:

1) It’s onsite. They were doing work from home at the beginning of the year; I did some last fall and I did training that way and they had a whole damn good system for working from home; not as good as being onsite, but DEFINITELY something they should have kept up until vaccines open to gen. pop. And this is actually the least scary thing, even though it really sucks because UGH I was looking forward to not having to wake up until 7:45 at the earliest, being able to eat and drink coffee with impunity while working, and having my husband-who-also-works-from-home reassure me with hugs regularly. Now comes why I’m unqualified:

2) Each state has a slightly different standard system for awarding points, before you get into the specific rules for each test. I’ve never scored this state.

3) It’s a writing test. Writing tests are the hardest to score, at least for me, because you have to grade them on two different scales and submit two scores (content/organization of ideas + mechanics/grammar). And I haven’t done one since 2017.

4) It’s for 8.5 weeks. I DON’T THINK I SHOULD TRY BEING A TEAM LEADER FOR THE VERY FIRST TIME ON THE LONGEST POSSIBLE PROJECT, since if i suck and bomb out it’s what you might call super hard or impossible to replace me, with the result that either I stay and keep doing mediocre work, or everyone else has to work really hard to pick up the stressful addition of having 25% more people to be responsible for.

5) This is on top of doing it for 7-8 hours a day instead of 4. And unlike night shift, I’m pretty sure you don’t get to leave 15 minutes early (with pay) on Fridays.

Literally only two things work in my favor here:

A. It’s third grade -- at least to start... -- and I have done an elementary-age writing project before, so at the very least the items are not as godawfully intimidating as high school or even middle-school essays. They’re usually a paragraph and never over one (handwritten) page.

B. The email said to respond by March 10th because “if you are not able to work we still need time to hire someone in your place,” but I got it on March 11th, so I suspect -- and need to believe, generally -- that I am a second-string pick. If they’re desperate, I am definitely good enough to be a back-up candidate.

So I’m gonna do it. Because money. But I am so absolutely petrified to be a team leader, you have no idea. My mom says I’m good at explaining things, and I think I am, but I am NOT good at confronting people if they have issues (a large part of training was about how to warn people if they’re late, gone from the room too much, being distracting, not wearing their mask correctly, etc).

And I’m not great at scoring fast, because one stupid essential part of this job is that you’re STILL DOING WHAT YOU DID AS A TEST SCORER (you are a “third check” for 10% of the papers, a final authority to help ensure they’re scored right), but also doing all these supervisory things. I have no idea how I’m going to be able to do all this while also analyzing the sample papers I get from the scorers to see where people are having patterns of scoring things differently from other people so that I can see what they might be misinterpreting. It’s like, PICK ONE. I can do one or maybe two of these supervisory roles well, but not all of them at once.

And the thing that terrifies me most about  being a TL is that other TLs have said they like the job because they “never get bored” and they’re always doing something different. That is EXACTLY what I do NOT want in a job. Being specific places at specific times and sometimes interacting with people is hard enough; I don’t need constant challenges; I’m not a damn Border Collie!

I like a job that is super routine, sometimes boring, and the best thing about this job has always been that I get a lot of time to read while other people are finishing training quizzes, servers are down, on break, etc. I’m pretty sure TLs never get time to read, except maybe at lunch. A lot of them even work through breaks because they need to catch up on scoring papers or doing other stuff they didn’t have time to do while they were popping up to answer questions from readers -- oh yeah, that’s yet another aspect.

I am so effing screwed. My sole relief is that at least it will end, and if I try it once, I never have to do it again.

[whats-the-story-tc]

26th-28th of April, 2020

"The Ones with the Series of Unfortunate Events"

[LONG AS FUCK SORRY]

After what happened on Saturday, I could barely fall asleep at night. I had a splitting headache from all the crying and genuinely felt like shit. Morning came, and I immediately reached for my phone. Nothing from her. It still being quite early, I tried to go back to sleep, and spent a full hour tossing and turning, a head full of thoughts, until I couldn't take it anymore. I turned my phone on and checked the notification bar, only to see a very familiar name and face.

I submitted my essay to her already, way before it was due, so when she actually assigned it in Google Classroom, I just pressed 'Mark as done' and thought I was good to go. V has obviously seen it (two links here). And, even though I didn't submit jackshit this time, she still felt the need to send me a "Thank you :)". I was overjoyed. FINALLY. So, as I explained here already, I had an impulse thought and decided to respond. "And thank YOU for the "task". I had a lot of fun with it. (I mean, the [poet's name] one.) If you're ever curious about anything of this sort, don't keep it to yourself :)" Of course, I regretted it as soon as I sent it. And, of course, I knew I wouldn't get an answer.

I promptly took a full day of rest after that, like I was trying to recover from a bad break-up. I didn't expect to hear from her again the next day.

Monday morning. New notification. Same old love of my life. She assigned us a project we'd already spoken about last week — to reinterpret a monologue from the play I read, the one V really likes, in any shape or form. Painting, video, prose, or, to quote V: "tiktok (not that I know how that works, but it's your choice)". She also said that she wants to keep what we make, maybe even share them with our Geo/Art teacher. I got even mote excited than when she first announced this. I knew I wanted to draw something, to show her a side of me she'd never seen before. I'm starting it on Friday. Doing a bit of painting, too. Wish me luck.

At around 2 PM that same day, Pocketwatch Friend noticed V's reply to her essay and asked me how she should respond to her. Found it quite funny, not gonna lie, knowing my history with replies. And as my friends told me about the responses they got, I realised a fundamental difference. All of them were skimmed over going into detail. They noted them fine, but didn't take the time to explain why they were noteworthy. So basically, they lacked content. Meanwhile the only things she spent paragraphs pointing out about my essay were miniscule stylistic mistakes. This gave me a fair bit of reassurance about what I do. I did enough. I was enough.

Come Tuesday, I was a nervous wreck to say the least. I always am, when it comes to online classes, but especially so when I have class with V. I walked up-and-down in the room, listening to her talk, not daring to say a word. God, I wish I kept to that.

Before I get to the part where y'all laugh at my misery, a teensy bit of prelude. Here I mentioned that the first time I had spoken to V after class, the 11th of October, 2018, we spoke about Hamlet. In short, I was a bit oblivious, and didn't really know how to recognise the Oedipus complex I've seen associated with the play. We were covering the story of Oedipus anyway, so I trotted up to her after class to talk. I remember the afternoon Sun shining really bright that day, and V being very relaxed and fully in her element as she spoke, leaning against my desk (that I wasn't sitting at by then). I went home smiling, unable to get her out of my head after that. It should've been clear from that day.

Now, on to class. There were a lot of good bits, a lot of interesting bits... but I don't want to talk about those now.

Last ten minutes, V asks if there are any questions. "I might just have one." I said, and immediately regretted it, even though I could hear the smile in V's voice as she said "Off you go". Theatre/Literature buffs, I'm sure you'll know the line "Frailty, thy name is woman!" from, you guessed it, Hamlet. Now, in the poem we were talking about, there was a line with the exact same structure, only with different words in the place of frailty and woman. I tried to twist it and see if V made that same association, but luck didn't favour me that day. V had no last clue what I meant when I said the quote was familiar. I tried to explain it to the best of my abilities, though I didn't remember the exact Hamlet quote. Neither did V. "I don't really know Hamlet by heart." "Neither do I!" I tried to counter, but just made it more awkward. Bless her soul, V googled it there and then, but just by me saying it was said to Gertrude, it brought up another play with another Gertrude — coincidentally, the one V stroke up a conversation about with me on the very last day of actual school. Those being the results made V laugh, so at least that's a win from my part. I ended up looking it up myself, trying to remember the quote, and ended up answering my own damn question. "So it was the grammatical structure, then?" V asked, with that very same peace in her voice as last year, and I excitedly replied "Yes!". Conversation over. And even though she genuinely sounded interested, I hated myself for bringing up a totally unnecessary thing. Though I hope that I made V "pull [Hamlet] off the top shelf" after class, as she said she might, were it not for me finding the answer.

I was already feeling horrible. Then, V brought up the assignments mentioned earlier and sounded really excited about it, starting to list what she imagined us doing. "A rewrite of the scene in the play..." and as she was saying my name, I grinned and asked her "Was this an indirect reference?". I needed no further convincing that she, indeed, read what I texted her. But here comes the part I laugh at now, but right then it was horrible. She actually chuckled at my teasing question, and God I wish I remembered what she said. Then I said: "I was actually planning on something else, but..." because I found it an interesting idea, and I have been meaning to do that, too. And that's where it got awkward. V, the usually unfaltering and confident V, was startled. Proper startled that she might have accidentally changed my mind. She started saying "oh, no, I didn't mean it like that, I was just trying to predict things..." and that made me worried, so after the oh no, I immediately started rambling "no, no, of course, I know what you meant, I understand". So there we were, talking over each other, both of us a nervous mess that we may have said something wrong we didn't mean. Right now, I find it absolutely hilarious, because how on Earth did we manage that?? But there and then?

I started crying. Silently, of course, not to worry her even further. (I didn't want to turn my mic off because I was scared it would malfunction again.) But I was so tense, that all my gasoline pool of nerves needed was this little spark of awkward, and it caught flame. I stood there, tears streaming down my cheeks, blaming myself for speaking and thinking I should've just shut up.

Soon after, V told us not to stress about the assignment, because "it's just homework". Everybody's favourite Cynical Twat, who is even worse at social situations than I am, tried to express he was glad to hear that, but did so in a very confusing and sarcastic way that V didn't really understand. "It would be pretty shitty of me" to make us stress, she said. So I dried my tears and jumped in, because she deserved to hear the compliment. "I don't mean to speak for [Cynical Twat], but I think he meant that we're all glad you said that. Not many people do it like that." I told her something along the lines of that. "Oh, okay." she said, disbelief thick in her voice. Hey, V. We bloody love you. It's time you start believing it.

Class ended soon after, and I spent about twenty minutes sobbing and cursing myself. The message from Pocketwatch Friend saying "I can't believe [V] replies to everything" as they were talking about her essay, only made it worse.

That night, I had a conversation with one of my underclassmen I talk to every once in a blue moon. We were discussing school and teachers, and I intentionally didn't bring up V. I waited for her to. Though, okay, I did provoke it a teensy bit, but just slightly. So, we talk about her, and through the things the girl says, I find out that... heh, of course, I'm not the only one she strikes up convos with. Turns out, after a joke, V even winked at her! (Okay, she did that to me once, too, when I stood up for her in class, but that's not the point.) After that, I was carrying the convo on just fine, but inwards, I was spiralling into a great big void of 'You ain't special to her, bitch, the fuck were you thinking'. The girl ended the conversation with "the woman's weird (...) but that's how we love her". Right. Yeah.

Now, two days later at current, I'm back in the room where all the crying went down. Bit surreal, thinking back. I'm sure I won't forget this for quite a while. Will my unlucky strike stop anytime soon? I don't know. We'll see. But I don't think anything could surprise me anymore.

You may take that as a challenge, V.

~ S ♡

[Every story I share here, no matter how specific I get with my wording, depicts actual events from my own life.]

[dmitri-smerdyakov]

the reason people are “harassing” you this time around is because everyone has slowly become aware that this wasn’t a one time thing. it’s happened so many times before, especially since the beginning of the year. i’ve stayed out of all of the drama and preferably just watched as it all played out, but people are frustrated because they all feel like it’s just for attention- which, not attacking you, but it seems like it is.

No offence, but why did you feel the need to message me this? And this isn’t exactly “staying out of the drama” or “not attacking”. 

SO THIS IS AT ALL MY FOLLOWERS BUT ESPECIALLY ANY HATERS

Look, there’s been a lot going on - and the reason Sunday night went as bad as it did was because I had a bad weekend, and things in my real life have been shitty as fuck. I haven’t spoken about HALF of the shite going on, but I’ll do it now since apparently I need to explain why I had a meltdown.

The Katherine/Instagram incident was only the tip of the iceberg - and underneath it was a lot of real life stuff involving work, family, and university stress. Below the cut is a better explanation, but if you read it don’t come crying to me about triggering because I’m warning you now that I talk about my depression. I’m not going into explicit detail regarding the relapse side of things, but I do mention relapse and depression.

First of all, my final university essay was due last Thursday night; I got ZERO sleep over last week because I stressed out about it. And then, when I thought I had finished it and gotten it down, it turned out I submitted the wrong document and accidentally submitted an application to be student ambassador from sixth form three/four years ago. I didn’t realize until Sunday, when I checked my uni emails and full-out panicked/hated myself for being so stupid.

You Marvel fans will know Infinity War just released; I was only supposed to work the Saturday, but got saddled covering for someone I don’t like on the Friday evening too. Safe to say, I hate cinema goers, especially those who bring young children/parties of children/complain about every tiny thing/leave fuck tons of mess. “My milkshake isn’t thick enough” - dude, I didn’t make it, I just showed you to your seat. “Your popcorn tastes disgusting” - again, not my problem, that’s the managers’ fault because they haven’t bothered to fix the popcorn machine and we’re using old pre-made popcorn. Don’t even get me started on the amount of popcorn I had to sweep up.

Speaking of my cinema job, I’ll be talking about that in a separate post but long story short: the managers are cunts. Really. Long story short, I won’t be remaining there much longer.

I’ve been preparing to intern for MuggleNet, which isn’t too stressful but still, it’s something that’s really important to me because it’s something related to a fandom I love. So I want to do an amazing job for them.

Money problems - related to job because my work/managers are dicks who cancelled half my shifts because the less people they have to pay, the bigger bonus they get. So I’ve had to struggle to pay bills/travel expenses so I can go to therapy.

Oh, yeah, to everyone saying “you need to get help”, “get some therapy” etc. I AM. STOP MESSAGING ME THIS. I have a counselor, and I’m scheduled to go to CBT every week too. So I AM at least trying to get better, please stop acting like I’m not.

Have I mentioned that my parents keep threatening to throw me out? Just because I don’t feel comfortable talking to them, and they act like that means I’m a trouble child; not a week goes by where they don’t express their disappointment in me for going to uni instead of getting a full-time job.

Fanfiction - notice how I haven’t posted any fanfiction lately? Except for my Daniels and Walter one? I’ve been trying but I’ve been so tired and unable to break through my writers block that I can’t think of anything, and I feel so guilty for it.

Honestly? I’m still really upset about my nan dying last summer. Before anyone says “oh that was ages ago get over it”, DON’T. I spent most of my life with my nan, she was there the day I was born, she babysat me every week for eighteen and a half years until she got sick, she was the person I spoke to when I felt upset or angry, and she was literally the most generous and loving person I’ve ever met. Her being gone has left a massive hole in my life that nothing can heal - let me grieve her, I’m allowed to still be devastated over losing her.

What happened on Sunday happened because of people hacking someone else and invading her privacy - and those two people were people I spoke to regularly. I was already angry with both of them because they were messaging me and blaming each other all day, and I was sick of it. Yes, my reaction - i.e. relapsing and being an emotional mess - was a bit too much, I dealt with it the wrong way and shouldn’t have did the things I did/said the things I said. I fully admit that, and it was a blip.

My mental health issues aren’t an excuse for it, I know, but things have been difficult and I’m working on getting better. 

Like I said, I’m going to talk about the cinema/job thing in another post since that’s what’s been causing me to feel low, but for now I’m going to leave this post here since I’m currently training on skype for the internship.