#it's not even as much about how i have a b+ average in the class now its more that she's just a shit teacher in general

[vriska-serketboard]

ayo can somebody give me tips about how to either tone down or get rid of my anger at my syntax professor bc i am angry at her to a point where it is physically painful

[adore-gregor]

my perception of grades totally changed since i started uni

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Take a Fucking Hint

Yandere Trans Female Alpha x Female Omega Reader CW: Noncon, somnophilia, breeding, biting, claiming bites, blood as lube, pheromones, mating cycles/heat, a/b/o, omegaverse, knotting, public sex Word Count: 1.8k (Omg, super sorry, finished and posted on ao3 days ago. Kept forgetting to post and I just haven't felt well lately. Commission for an anon follower.)

You were hanging out eating dinner at your place after classes with your very good male to female alpha friend, Morgan. The two of you had been good friends since you had met in grade school. You were more than a bit tipsy from a few drinks and were going on and on about how you were really wanting an alpha, you were so lonely, you didn’t think you’d ever end up with the right mate, no one had interest in you.

In reply Morgan, who very much had an unending crush on (and obsession with) you, went on about how lonely she was and how she needed a cute little omega to claim and give all of her attention to. She even mentioned how it would be so much better if she had a friend she could date because then the relationship would just be so much more stable and built on a really good foundation.

You hugged Morgan in response. Was this it? Had you finally realized that she meant you and that she also filled all your desires too? No, you were naive and hopelessly dense.

“I’m so sorry. I hope we both find someone who fits what we want,” you pouted.

She hugged you back.

“Yeah...”

Morgan grumbled internally, cursing your inability to pick up a hint. She really didn’t know how to make it any more obvious to you. She calmed down and the conversation moved on but you drank a bit more and soon fell into a deep sleep aided by the alcohol you had consumed. As you snoozed, legs splayed out as you slumped on the couch, Morgan had a wicked idea.

She could always tell by your stronger than average scent that when you weren’t in heat you went without panties. With how stubborn and obtuse you were, didn’t she deserve to have a little peek at what you hid below your cute skirt? Hadn’t she earned just a little reward for all of her trouble?

Morgan was practically shaking with excitement. She lifted your garment with little worry that you would wake up. You were a deep sleeper on a normal day but when you had drank even a bit you could sleep through a nuclear bomb.

There it was, your cute pussy. She gasped at how perfect it was and took a quick pic with her phone to enjoy later at her leisure.

Morgan bit her lip as she allowed her gaze to linger. She had intended to just steal a glance, but you looked far too inviting. Her cock twitched as she had an even more wicked idea. She could just fuck you while you slept.

The alpha lowered her underwear and hitched up her own skirt. She repositioned you so that your legs were on her shoulders before slipping into you slowly, enjoying the sensation of your pussy gripping her cock as she did so.

“Daaaamn that’s gooood.”

Even with your reputation for sleeping through anything the alpha went slowly. Surely rough sex could wake you up. It was difficult though, she had to resist a very nearly overwhelming urge to just pile drive you with her large cock. Back and forth, back and forth, the pace was damn near tortuous. When she finally came, she came in you hard, but pulled out just enough to avoid knotting you.

Post nut clarity cleared her mind and she realized what she had just done. It felt amazing though. Maybe it was even worth it as long as you didn’t realize what had happened. She cleaned you up as best as she could, using a skilled tongue to lick up most of the cum that had been pumped into you.

You moaned in your sleep, but otherwise didn’t stir. She cleaned you up as best she could before bundling you up and taking you to your bed. She hoped that any lingering traces of her scent would be mistaken for her smell rubbing off on you when she brought you to bed.

The alpha left and locked up with the spare key you had given her.

You woke up hours later after having had the hottest most realistic erotic dream of your life. You imagined yourself getting dicked down by the big musky alpha of your dreams. Ugh, why couldn’t it be reeeeaaaal!? Your crotch was leaking slick like a faucet and you had a mild hangover. Which probably helped the fact that some of that “slick” was actually semen. You stumbled into the shower, couldn’t resist digging into your pussy while thinking about the dream you had.

A few days passed and you were a bit disappointed that you hadn’t had any more vivid dreams like that. Of course you shared the dream with your best bud Morgan. She seemed eager to change the subject though, maybe she was a bit more prudish than you had thought, or maybe she just wasn’t in the mood to talk about that kind of thing.

The two of you were once again hanging out. This time it was in a park on campus only available to students of the school the two of you went to. At some point you noticed a cute alpha and omega couple and went on and on about how perfectly they went together and how you really needed an alpha and wanted to be in a relationship like that.

Morgan, once more, attempted to point out that she was an alpha and wanted an omega but you were blissfully immune to noticing her advances.

Eventually… she just fucking snapped.

“You want a fucking alpha I’ll give you a fucking alpha!”

She grabbed you by the arm and threw you to the ground before pinning you down and ripping your clothing off. Before you could even shake off the shock and summon some words she pulled your arm behind your back so forcefully you were sure she had dislocated it.

You shrieked in pain. A crowd started to form. A man tried to intervene.

“H-hey you can’t hurt someone like tha-”

“I’m about to claim her!”

The man suddenly looked embarrassed for his mistake.

“O-oh, I didn’t realize… sorry.”

Some of the crowd dissipated now that they had been given such a good explanation, some just pulled out their phones and backed up a bit. Whether they filmed for pleasure or to shame the alpha for legally allowed, but somewhat controversial, behavior of forcing herself on an omega, who could say.

“Pl-please let me g-go… y-you’re h-h-hurting m-meee, “You sobbed pitifully.

“You hurt me by being stupid and dense!” She growled.

All you could do was cry helplessly as she lined her cock up with your cunt before jamming it in, the greatest possible violation from your very best friend. She thrust her thick musky cock in and out at a brutal pace, offering you no chance to grow accommodated to the size or speed, your blood being used as impromptu lube.

You gasped and sputtered and wailed in pain, both physical and emotional from the betrayal while Morgan made noises of a different sort. Growls and groans of pleasure and dominance as her heavy balls slapped against you.

Only after what seemed like an eternity did the pain in your abused cunt ebb and fade into pleasure, though the injury in your arm was still somewhat distracting. Morgan had calmed down a bit and lessened the pace for you, nibbling and kissing your neck as she moved back and forth into your warm depths.

The alpha came in you hard, her throbbing cock spurting rope after rope of semen deeply into you. The warm fluid mingled with your slick and seemed to soothe your ruined pussy. Your body betrayed you and you shuddered in orgasm as Morgan bit your fragile neck, permanently marking you as hers. She lovingly lapped at the blood she had drawn as her knot bound the two of you together.

While you were still in shock at all the events that had transpired and shaking from the pleasurable bite Morgan quickly maneuvered to pop your shoulder back into place. You screamed again but she nuzzled and shushed you, kissing you up and down the side of your neck.

“Shh, such a good girl for me. Taking my knot so good~”

When her knot finally decided to deflate, Morgan slipped out of your abused cunt with a loud plop. Semen, slick, and a bit of blood leaked from hole and down your thighs. The alpha gave your poor pussy a few tentative licks to soothe you and taste the mixture of your fluids on her tongue.

You twitched a bit reflexively but were still in a complete daze and in no state to do much of anything.

But that was okay! You finally had that alpha you had always been after, and she would take care of everything. Morgan hoisted you up and slung you over her shoulder before setting out for her nearby apartment.

“Why?”

“Heh, because I love you.”

Once there, she wasted no time in getting you bundled up in her bed and wrapped firmly in her scent. You snuggled into the blankets, though you should have been disgusted by her pheromones after what she had done to you. Instead, you found yourself acutely aware of them and seeking them out for comfort.

Though you were still barely aware of what you were doing. Only a faint voice in the back of your mind told you something was wrong.

Morgan had you drink some water and fed you a snack, which you ate without complaint. You were being surprisingly obedient.

Then she noticed your scent was off. It was more intense.

You were in heat. It was probably triggered by your rough claiming earlier.

The alpha got into bed with you. Once more, she removed her clothing. Without a word you crawled right into her lap and lowered yourself onto her already throbbing cock.

You couldn't fight your desire for your new alpha, being stuffed with her knot. You tried to, but you instantly pushed the notion from your head. You had already been fucked into submission, literally fucked right into heat, what was the point of trying to resist anymore?

And this time, she was much more gentle with you. You were a bit sore from earlier, but she let you move at your own pace, slowly yet desperately impaling yourself on her erection as she made careful little thrusts into you.

She kissed your forehead.

"Such a good girl~"

It didn't take all that long for you to be knotted up and filled with several large loads of Morgan's fertile alpha cum.

Morgan smirked. She should have claimed you a long time ago, though she was more than willing to put in the effort to make up for all of that lost time!

[ellesreids]

hi!! i wanted to send in a request for a spencer reid x reader fic. i don’t have a particular plot in mind (or you can create headcanons, if you prefer) so you may have to get creative but i love the idea of a funky whimsical reader. like she wears fun socks and has too many plans and has bugs as pets. like an elementary school art teacher vibe yk? maybe she actually is an elementary school art teacher or maybe she works at the bau, you’re choice. i just love this concept cause everyone writes the reader so similarly to spencer, but i think he’d be really compatible with a type b creative person too :) all i ask for is loads of fluff!! i love your writing and im so excited to see what you do with this :) tysm!! sending love ✨⭐️🎀💗

I absolutely love her I already wanna write more and more about her!! thank you for requesting lovely, sending back ten times more love <3 this is basically like a backstory to how they met and got together, but I'm literally already thinking about writing a few blurbs lol.

──── ⊹☆⊹ ────

You and Spencer first met when the FBI was doing their annual school visits at the elementary school where you taught. The whole school hall was packed with children and teachers, and Spencer felt like he was minutes from fainting because he knew he was up next to present and he knew it was going to be near torture trying to explain profiling to a bunch of ten year olds.

Just before he was set to go on stage, his eyes had caught yours. It's not like you were hard to find anyway — you stuck out like a sore thumb, actually. A far cry from any average teacher, with clothes so colorful and lively and jewelry that adorned you all over. Spencer was already starstruck, and he hadn't even talked to you yet.

When you saw him, you gave him a small smile in greeting, noticing his very nervous demeanor, and somehow that alone had helped quell a bit of the firing nerves that shot through his body. The kids couldn't care less what Spencer was talking about, and much less the teachers, but you practically had your eyes glued to him, giving him encouraging nods as he sputtered his way through his fully memorised presentation.

He had tried to talk to you after his speech was over, but as all the kids were pushing their way outside of the hall and back to their respective classes, he lost you somewhere in the crowds. He thought about you for days after that encounter, and didn't get to see you again until about a week later, when you, by some miracle, walked into the bullpen of the BAU holding a huge fruit basket that had been meant to be given to the team the day of the school visit. You definitely were a spectacle, turning heads and piquing interest as you made your way through the office. Flowy skirt, crinkled, paint-stained shirt, and jiggling bangles in contrast to all the crisp, perfectly tailored suits that surrounded you.

Morgan, ever the gentleman, saw you struggling and offered to help take the gift from your hands, and you thanked him profusely. Just as you were getting ready to make your way back to school after some friendly small talk with Morgan, you noticed him, sitting at his desk seemingly completely enraptured with the file he was reading. The cute agent that had been so nervous he started turning pale. The colour had definitely returned to his face now, and he looked even cuter than before, so after politely excusing yourself, you decided to make your way over to his desk.

When Spencer saw you standing at his desk, same warm smile as before when you greated him, he was starstruck all over again, sitting there with a mouth slighty agape as you complimented his total wreck of a presentation. "I'd like to treat you to a coffee sometime to, y'know, say thank you for coming to talk to the kids." It was a horrible cover-up, but it seemed to work nevertheless, and when the doctor had gathered enough of his impressive IQ points, he managed to accept your offer in an almost incoherent mess of words.

You had since then taken him out to coffee, and naturally, a date followed, and then a few more.

And now, Spencer couldn't even believe his luck. He had almost made peace with the idea that he'd never see you again, and now you were sitting across him in the busy restaurant on your now sixth date. In many ways, you and Spencer are complete opposites. Where Spencer thrives in routine and familiarity, you're much more flexible and adaptable. You're a take it as it comes kind of person, yet he functions better the further away he can plan.

Your patience and creativity make it easy for him to see why you're a teacher as well, and Spencer swears he'd already fallen in love by the first date. He tries to reel it in, though, afraid of scaring you off with his overeagerness, but you don't seem to mind at all. You look at him with stars in your eyes every time he rambles about whatever subject he seems to have endless knowledge on, and sometimes you even counter with your own rambles. The two of you complemented each other in the most perfect way; like two opposite poles of a magnet, yet unstoppably drawn to each other.

After your date, he takes you home and walks you to the door like a gentleman, and when you ask him if he'd like to stay for a cup of tea, he accepts with a shy smile and red-tipped ears. If he thought your clothes were a perfect reflection of your personality, your house is even more so. The inside is filled with the type of warm lighting that feels nostalgic, the scent of cinnamon and bergamot permeates through the air, trinkets and paintings are scattered in every corner his eyes falls to and plants are pearched on and near every window in sight.

You take off your shoes, and he mimics you, the both of you bursting into a fit of giggles when you notice each others' socks. The two of you make your way to your living area as the kettle boils, and he's greeted by your cat, rubbing herself against his leg with a soft purr. "She likes you," you say with a happy shriek, "and she normally doesn't like anyone that fast, so you should feel honored." He does feel honored, funny enough. If it means that much to you, it means even more to him that your cat likes him.

For probably the millionth time since he's met you, he's completely enamored with you. He watches as you speak animatedly, one hand petting the cat now in your lap while the other holds your cup of tea. He winces a little when you move the cup around so seemingly neverminded, but you've managed to not spill anything yet, which he thinks is quite impressive.

His brain was going a hundred miles a minute as you. He realized he'd now had something, someone to look forward to when he returned from cases. Someone who waited for him and missed him. He had someone to share his thoughts with, someone who listened and truly cared about everything he had to say.

The realization makes his heart ache, this funny feeling that starts in his chest and spreads through his whole body like white heat. He feels a little breathless, hand absent-mindedly clutching his chest in a way that would probably seem melodramatic to anyone else watching.

"Spencer? Are you okay?" you ask, breaking him from his reverie as you place your almost empty cup on the nearby coffee table before you're feeling his forehead with the back of your hand. It was silly, but you were so used to working with kids who got sick out of the blue, and Spencer had suddenly started looking deathly pale.

"I'm fine, it's just," he hesitates, and you pull your hand away, carefully shuffling a little closer to show him he had your undivided attention. "I'm very happy we found each other," he finally says, eyes lifting from his lap to gauge your reaction.

"I'm just as happy, Spence," you smile, "you make me very happy." Without really thinking about it, you press a kiss to his cheek to reiterate your words. As soon as you're pulling away, Spencer's chasing your lips with his, and in a very uncharacteristically bold move, he kisses you in a way he hopes will reiterate his words just as perfectly. You return the kiss tenfold, hands grasping his face as you pulled him impossibly closer, kissing him until you both were breathless. Once you're pulling away, Spencer feels like his brain is steadily melting out of his ears, heart beating faster than he thinks is healthy.

That was the night you Spencer asked you to be his girlfriend, and since then, his days have been brighter than ever.

[scremogirl]

✪⁂✫彡𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓✵✥☆ミ★ ???

𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐯𝐞-𝐀𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞

Yandere Student Council Pres x Nonchalant reader

I’m not sure if I should retitle this to Yandere! Childhood friend x reader or not. There’s not a lot of the fact he’s the SCP shown in the story. I felt like I went a little off track. I got so consumed in writing😭. I already have a post like that on my page so I didn’t want to make it confusing. I don’t know if I should’ve said unemotional reader either. Idk let me know what you think. Have fun reading!

He was at the top of the food chain. Good grades, teachers liked him, students feared him, rich, good looking, and most importantly; the student council president. With that being said, why wouldn’t he leave you alone?

Takenya was a stuck up priss in your opinion. Always lecturing you about things you could do in order of improvement. You weren’t popular but you weren’t one of those weird Naruto kids that sat in the back of the class and ate crayons either. You just existed. Someone so average at everything somehow attracted the most “perfect” guy in school. Your grades were fine; a straight A-B student with the occasional C here and there. Your attendance on the other hand… well maybe he’s not so wrong about that, but who actually wants to be at school anyways?

“I don’t understand why you don’t try harder? You could easily surpass most of our class,”

“You need to come to school. This behavior would never pass in the real world. What would your employer think of you just not showing up?”

“Chocolate for lunch…really? If you want to stay healthy you’ll need to-“

Why does he care so much anyways? Sure, you used to be friends in like what, fifth grade? You used to get bullied in school for being different. You just didn’t like the things that kids your age were supposed to like. But… it never bothered you. You weren’t emotionless per se, it’s just, why care what others have to think?

Mellisa Grey. The girliest of all girls. She used to have it out for you when you were younger. Calling you names and bumping your shoulder whenever you walked by. You put up with it until the end of the year; fifth grade graduation. That evening she and her crew thought it’d be funny to pour milk on the shy little nerdy boy in your class. Some spilled on your dress, that you didn’t mind, but the tears of the boy next to you made you. Something inside of you just snapped. You shot up from your seat grabbing a first full of her hair and slammed her head onto the wooden table. Not stopping until you saw the wire of her pink, sparkly braces fly out her mouth. Well, that was what you wanted to do; the teachers came too early for you to inflict any further damage. The most you got was a broken nose and a lawsuit. She transferred schools after that, and you got the whoopin of a lifetime. You didn’t care. You didn’t feel bad at all. If anything you felt elated seeing her in pain and the rage on her parents faces as the cussed child you out. You didn’t cry or yell when your parents picked you up. You weren’t phased by the belt or the palm of your mothers hand striking you. You didn’t feel anything. So why were you so upset on someone else's behalf anyways?

You knew this kid. I mean, how couldn’t you when he would follow you around 24/7.

“H-Hi… my names Takenya” you just blankly stared. His sheepish gaze barely meets yours from behind his big fat glasses.

“…Do I know you?”

“Well…no. But I know you!”

“Good for you I guess.” You continued to go back and forth on the swing, not acknowledging the boy's existence at all. The swing he sat on remained stationary, never once dropping his gaze from you.

“Uhm… I just wanted to thank you for yesterday,” Hm? What was he talking about? He saw the confusion in your face when you turned around to ask and beat you to the point.

“You probably don’t know me. We’re not in the same class,” Right. So why is he talking to you? Again, before you could ask he cut you off.

“The other day when recess started you helped me pick up all of my stuff after Carter pushed me down; remember? I-I just wanted to say thank you for sticking up for me” Ohhh, you do remember him now. He was that shy little rich kid that transferred here at the end of fourth grade. He didn’t have many friends, let alone any at all. Everyone had grown up with each other and formed friend groups at this poin. He was a little late to the party so he didn’t fit in. He wasn’t worried about the next episode of Ninjago and didn’t find humor in looking up the words penis and vagina in the dictionary at the school library when the teacher wasn’t looking. His hair long, tied back into a neat ponytail and not buzzed into a Mohawk like half the boys in your grade. He had glasses that almost covered the entirety of his upper face. He always ate his pb&js on whole wheat instead of white and preferred celery sticks over fruit snacks. So, just like you, he got bullied just because he was different.

“Oh yea. I remember you now. You’re welcome by the way,” he grinned. The first time you saw him smile ever since he came to your school.

That marked the day of a long friendship.

That was until you went to middle school. You think puberty had something to do with it. He grew into his face more and sized down those jellyfishing glasses. His scrawny figure gained slightly more bulk and dressed in a more modern fashion. His hair remained the same; a bit shorter than before but still longer than most guys. You’ve always liked his hair. He would let you braid it sometimes when he was too distracted playing on his DS. He didn’t get acne like many of the other kids your grade either, skin smooth and clear. All the girls found him to die for. Your nonchalant behavior rubbed off on him and he became more confident in himself. Not letting his elementary school self be reflected into now. He became a bit too obsessed with his studies for a middle schooler; pushing all his ways on you. He would always follow you around blabbing about not attending gym class. He even started hanging around the same snotty rich kids he would complain to you about. You became annoyed. So you cut him off. Just like that. Stopped talking to him, answering his texts, not sitting with him at lunch or in class. Even after all the rejection at his advances, he came running back to you. Not willing to let you go so easily.

The school bell rings signaling the end of 4th pd and beginning of lunch. You were planning to go off campus today and not come back. Keys in hand you make your way to the student parking lot. However, someone’s blocking the exit. He’s gotten taller, about 6’2-6’3; sleeper build accommodating his height. Glasses thinner and sit perfectly on the bridge of his nose. Hair as long as ever, tyed back with that same white ribbon you gave him years ago; revealing an undercut. He fixes the collar of his button up and readjusts his tie and vest.

“And exactly…just where do you think your going?”

“To lunch,”

“The cafeteria is that way,” he points with a slender finger, decorated by a diamond ring. It shimers under the lights above reflecting against his matching earrings.

“Off campus,” he raises his eyebrow, folding his arms.

“Knowing you, you won’t come back. You do realize your request for a half day schedule is still pending right? You also recognize that I’m the one who assists the principal in granting them as well?” You don’t answer him, already knowing we're going with this.

“As I said before, your attendance needs improving before I-… we can grant it,” what a pain in the ass this guy is. You try to walk past him but he stops you, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“I don’t eat school lunch. I’ll be back after,” he gives you an unamused look. Hand gripping your shoulder a little tighter as you try to take another step.

“You know I can’t let you do that. Not unless you don’t want a new schedule,” he pauses.

“Not unless I come with you,” you look up.

“You’re paying?” His eyes widened slightly, shocked at your willingness. But he can’t be too surprised, he knows you don’t care about anything unless you get what you want.

“Of course I am. You need to spend your money on other priorities; like a new math textbook,” you ignore the subtle jab and walk to his car. No need to ask where as he parks next to you everyday to make sure he knows you’ve actually show up. Definitely not because your the first thing he wants to see in the morning.

“I don’t understand why you come to McDonald’s of all places,” he lets out a sigh, handing his card to the drive through worker. He drives up to the next window waiting for the food.

“It’s not healthy. You seriously should consider my offer in taking you to that new place down the street,”. He looks over when he doesn’t get a response; noticing the music blasting from your headphones as you look at the door. He sighs again before taking the food from the workers hand and grabbing your headphones. You turn your head to look at him but your gaze shifts to the bag in his hand. You reach over and grab a fry out of the bag and he s his eyes. Pulling into the parking lot, he silently watches you eat. This brings him so much nostalgia. He misses eating lunch with you everyday. Ranting while you just sit there and chew. He misses having someone listening to him about something that’s not related to school. After you stopped *attempted* talking to him in the beginning of 7th grade, his heart felt like it got ripped out of his chest.

He’s never felt anything his whole life. His father would tell him that one day he’ll find someone who makes him feel everything, makes life worth it. He’d seen the love shared between his parents everyday. He always wanted that. In the fourth grade all of that came true. He saw you getting off the bus making your way to school. He saw the way you helped up Michael Lemitzki, a dorky little boy, after Conner pushed him down. Shaggy hair, braces lining his teeth, comic books all on the floor. How pathetic. You weren’t scared of Conner at all. He was bigger than you and more popular than you, but you didn’t care. You kept a straight face as he threatened you and held your composure. No emotion showing whatsoever.

He thought you were beautiful. It was love at first sight. He was too busy staring at you to hear his father calling out to him. He followed his son's gaze to you. He looked back down at the small boy and gave a knowing smile. Takenya just stared at the other boy hugging you with tears down his face. Why is he touching you like that? Push him away already! That day he purposely made himself a target to the bullying of Melissa and Conner. Hoping that one day, you’ll save him the same way you did Jacob. He got bigger glasses, grew his hair out, and started dressing like the typical “nerd”. He would leave candies in your cubby, prized limited edition Pokémon cards in your backpack, brand new color pencils and markers showed up around you. He started to lose hope though. Why haven’t you noticed him yet!? Sure he’s never actually talked to you.. but still! Could you not see his effort?! Did you not care? He sat alone at recess that fateful day. He was randomly pushed down, papers and crayons flying out his small hands. He wasn’t in the mood for Connors teasing today. To caught up on the fact that the love of his life may never see him they way he’s dreamed of. Oh the dramatic mind of a fifth grader. He clutched the safety scissors that flew out of his pencil pouch watching the dick of an elementary schooler turn around. He was about to get up but stopped as he saw someone bend down beside him. It was you! You helped gather all his things and placed them into his arms. His heart pounded in his chest and the blush on his face spread like wildfire. Before he could say anything you walked away. Taking your place on the swing set. He hurriedly put all his things away before trying to build up the courage to come talk to you. He took to long, however, as the teacher soon yelled for everyone to make their way into the line back to their respective class.

As he reminisces on the past, an alarm rings. Telling him that it’s time to make his way back to school. You’ve already finished all your food and somehow managed to take your headphones back.

“What?” You say snapping him out of his trance. He didn’t even realize he was staring.

“Nothing,”

You make your way back to the school and go your separate ways. He walks you to class ensuring that you get there. Out the corner of his eye he sees someone wave to you. Lemitzki. His hairs more well kept, ditched the glasses for contacts showing of his green eyes. He’s taller and has more muscles now. The only thing that hasn’t changed is the jagged line that makes it’s way across his right cheek, interfering with his dimple as he smiles. It’s been awhile, the scar healed well. The once clutzy boy looks at the door and freezes, hand dropping and going pale. There’s a silent stare off between the two before the late bell rings. Takenya makes his way to class, a slight smile on his face at a sudden memory.

Watching him walk away, a fist tightens. Little does he know someone was planning on getting their revenge.

Hi loves! I hope you guys enjoyed. Take is an OC of mine I’ve had for a while just never had a name for him until now. Like his concept was in my head foreverrrr. He might be a reoccurring character. I really like him. But I did put one shot so I’m not sure. Lemme know what y’all want. Check out this post below for a little more context. Hope you enjoyed.

-Love, Sos❤️

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 204 }

of painful auras and cute boys.

university au

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

there was an incredibly cute student who was in your class, and you could not seem to look away from him. each time you attended your morning classes, you would take note of how diligent he remained, always sitting near the front row while writing / typing out his notes on his slender laptop.

you assumed that he was a freshman like you, since his presence was not quite known by the upperclassman-

however, that didn't stop students across all classes from admiring him. from what little you gathered about him, you knew that his name was sung jinwoo, and he had plans of pursuing a degree in criminology after completing the required general education courses for the first few semesters. and despite how boring these classes were, each and every one of the professors were pleasantly surprised at how much he excelled in each and every one of them.

by the end of the fall semester, jinwoo had already reached the dean's list at the college, earning quite a few envious glares from his peers (which unfortunately, included you as well). it was odd, but, through the classes that you shared with him, you became aware of how his drive to succeed seemed to be taken up to the next level.

even if it was mildly infuriating to you, at the same time, you found a great source of motivation in him. throughout your high school years, you managed to scrape by with average grades (making plenties of c's and b's here and there, with true a's coming once in a blue moon)-

but seeing how devoted jinwoo was to his studies made you want to change your outlook on your university life. after classes, you would usually catch sight of jinwoo settled within the library with his textbooks spread across the tables as his hands diligently scribbled some notes within the confines of his notebook. he never seemed to carry that typical laziness seen within most freshman students after experiencing their first few weeks of college-

and you greatly admired him for it.

so... using your crush role model as your sole inspiration, you began to change your study habits and did your best to work just as hard as jinwoo. you would find a quiet corner in the middle of the library, (making sure you kept a safe distance from said role model and motivation), as you began your studies for the day. your eyes would glance up at him every so often, using his focused expression as a means to further motivate and inspire you to work harder.

your session starts out normal enough, with you comparing your written lecture notes to what the textbook chapter says. but the more you kept reading your textbook, the more you slowly began to feel a slight ache taking over the forefront of your brain. you shut your eyes for a few minutes, counting down the seconds that make up a minute by tens before reopening your eyes-

only to realize that your vision had gotten considerably worse.

for some reason, your eyes could only see weblike illusions, further marring your vision as you let out a soft moan in response. due to what you knew was an aura hindering your vision, you could feel the familiar pulse against your temple coupled along with the wave of nausea.

the lights used to brighten the library suddenly became too bright, making it painful for you as your breathing slowly became labored. the pain felt all across your head just kept mounting, becoming even more excruciating as you let out a soft moan, trying to relieve the ache by massaging at your temples, but to no avail. you were completely rendered helpless from the severity of your migraine, uncertain of what to do as hot tears were felt spilling from your eyes.

"hey, are you okay?" a gentle and calm voice calls out to you, but you could only manage a tiny whimper in response.

"no... i'm not okay... i think i'm having a bad migraine right now."

you hear someone, (a young man), click his tongue in response to your admission and try to meet his gaze, only to have that same aura place what looked like a static filter across your eyes, keeping the boy's identity hidden from you.

you listen as he lets out a hum before gathering your textbooks and notebooks together, placing them all neatly inside of your backpack along with your pencil case. "come with me, i'll help you."

clinging to his arms, you try to walk beside him, only to run the side of your hips against one of the tables as it made you wince in response. a rich chuckle was heard close to your ear when a smooth voice tells you, "hang on tight."

not even bothering to wait for your reply, you found yourself picked up by this mystery boy, gasping as you tried to fight against the powerful vertigo that courses through you. "w-whoa! d-did you just pick me up?"

"i had to... i couldn't have such a vulnerable girl continue hurting herself when she clearly can't see." amusement was heard within the richness of his voice, and had you not been feeling so nauseated and sick, you would have protested against his playful words.

with your vision still ruined by such a powerful aura, you could only put your trust within this perfect stranger as he carried you out of the library and back onto campus grounds. with your eyes clenched shut to avoid the intensity of the sunlight, you felt him walking to a more secluded area, hearing the grass crunching beneath him with each step that he takes before settling you down beneath what felt like an oak tree.

the shadows provided by such large branches was enough to help ease the ache on your eyes. your savior ends up joining you, kneeling down close to you as you felt the way he brushes back your hair before gently massaging at your forehead. at first, his touch makes you let out a soft hiss in response, but the more he kept caressing at your head, the less pain you felt-

like he was purposely soothing your migraine away with his gentle touches.

your eyes go wide, finally seeing the way the static clears away from your vision as you came face to face with sung jinwoo himself. you begin to tremble at the mere sight of him, tilting your head slightly at how his eyes seemed to glow a faint purple while he kept his hands against your head.

he sees your gaze and the way your lips remain parted for him, smiling down at you before removing his hand from your forehead. "do you feel better now?" jinwoo asks you with a gentle smile, and seeing such a beautiful sight up close was enough to make your heart pound.

you gingerly touch at your forehead and temple, the searing headache finally gone along with the sense of nausea. your expression was a bewildered one, yet it was filled with gratitude when you thanked him.

"t-thank you. i feel... so much better now... h-how did you do that?"

jinwoo simply gives you a tender smile and a wink, "sorry, that's going to be a secret for now. can't have you knowing everything about me too soon... because how else are you going to keep chasing after me?"

his teasing words make you lose all of your senses, for not even a single, coherent word could come from your parted lips. as you were left practically gaping at him, jinwoo hums before standing back to his full height, placing both hands within the pocket of his jeans while looking down at you.

you remain silent, seeing the way jinwoo's gaze seemed to flicker with an unknown emotion before becoming darker-

as if he wanted to look within the very depths of your soul.

the sheer intensity of his gaze was enough to make a sudden heat rush to your cheeks in response. yet as soon as that intense expression appears within jinwoo's stormy grey eyes, it disappears the next moment. a gentle smile paints his handsome features when he offers a hand to you, "would you like to join me for some coffee? i feel like you deserve a treat after suffering from such a bad migraine."

you were still unable to speak, simply nodding at him as you placed your hand within his, allowing jinwoo to help you up. he grabs both his and yours respective backpacks with little complaint, simply keeping his fingertips interlocked with yours as he walked with you to the nearest cafe.

as he walks with you, jinwoo could see shadowy wisps dancing around him excitedly, speaking to him:

"ah, it is such a great honor to be in the presence of our queen once more... congratulations on finding her, my liege."

and despite how you were unaware of jinwoo's beloved soldiers talking amongst themselves, he could hear them perfectly while letting out a secretive smile in response, giving your hands a gentle squeeze as proof of the happiness that he felt at being able to find you in this lifetime.

a.n. - i am so sorry; i still have the worst block for jinwoo,,, but i hope you readers will enjoy this little drabble 🥹

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[1eoness]

professor!re4r leon fucking u.. i think (or at least wanting to fuck u)

cw content : leon size kink kennedy (jk) | sub-afab-fem-reader and dom!leon kennedy | age gap(ur 22 he's 27), leon masturbating, penetration, slightly weird ooc leon ♡

[to clarify, i am 18. anyone <18 and anyone >18 uncomfortable with interacting pls dni]

authors note bc i love rambling; btw i'm writing this in public at some boba cafe can u believe that lol im literally supposed to be studying but hwatever fuck it leon make me go blaahhhhhh. btw what do i call this? a fic?blurb?drabble? idklmfao by the way i have NO idea on how to write professor x reader shit so im sorrhy if this sucks ass.

synopsis : conflicted and flustered professor!leon kennedy of your local college struggles to improve his class' average because students like you—incompetent, airheaded, spoiled and klutzy— make it difficult for him :(

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

you heard the rustling of laptop bags and stationery as leon's students left for that morning lecture. though, they moved slow and drowsy; for leon is sure nowadays this generation can't afford to wake up at 6:00 in the morning to prepare for a 7 a.m. lecture on "deviance and crime control."

especially you.

kennedy is a sharp man. he harps on students even if they get a B on any assignment, but he swears it's on his tough love (to which a lot of students aren't really aware of, just that they know this stoic pretty-face of a man has high standards.)

he is also keen on attendance. something girls like you seem to take lightly. it was absurd, really. most professors don't give a shit, do they?

it would've been fine with leon if you missed lectures even twice a week as long as you emphasized your understanding of his lessons through putting stellar effort on your schoolwork. but the best you've gotten on his class was a B- drawing close to a C+.

so, he needs to have a chat with you. urgently.

"l/n, i need to speak with you." leon spoke, confrontative as his black jeans peered from your right peripheral vision. he stood tall beside the edge of the table where you sat. jesus, was he trying to give you a heart attack? (he always had this habit, he'd just pop out of nowhere. he has silent feet.)

yes, you may have missed his lectures from monday to thursday to go to macedonia with your family: but if leon were given the opportunity for a vacation he would snag it too, right?

you looked up at the young professor, wide-eyed and a bit intimidated. what the hell did you do this time? you closed your laptop, gave leon your full attention. leon has also noticed this about you; you're quick to pay attention but you have the memory span of a dumb rabbit. maybe even the IQ of one too, if leon was rude enough.

so you sat there, hands on your lap as you fiddled with the pleats of your blue plaid skirt. the color makes his heart beat a little—he loves the color blue. and the way it looked on you... wait, no. what the hell was he thinking?

"you couldn't even spare the few minutes to e-mail me that you'd be missing four- four, of my classes in one week." he emphasized with a slate tone, and the way his eyes peered down at you added that he needed your reasoning of the situation. he'd love to hear what you had to say for yourself. "i had to talk to your friend, ashley, for some clarification. even the president's daughter has the dignity to show up to my class with a verbal apology." leon scolded as his fingertips met the pages of your notebook. did you even care about his classes? :(

much to your chagrin, your lips were pressed in sheepish silence. hopeless, even. you didn't even have anything to say for yourself? how pitiable.

you simply can't miss class, that wasn't right! just because you thought you could hide in the shadows amidst leon's collective of 73 students (yes he counts), you aren't out of his eyes. in fact, you stood out to him even if you were just an incompetent scholar.

he sighed at your silence. "fair enough, an apology can't compensate for your lack of presence or decorum." he then placed your paper on the desk, you had gotten a D. you were never a bad student but this was your first D ever! your eyes widened and he caught on even though he could only see the crown of your hair. "surprised? because i'm not." leon uttered flatly while his pale fingers flipped through the papers right in front of you. you even spotted a few contractions— when did you even pass this?!

but you weren't a bad girl to him, no. you were capable of shame and guilt. you looked sideways, unable to meet his eyes and training your vision to the floor. you felt low, disappointing a professor that gave you numerous chances to break out of your awkward shell.

"you're a smart girl, you know that?" he finally sighed softly. he wanted you to look at him, make him another promise that you'll start putting effort in his class. he needed to maintain his class's average or else he'd prove he was an inept professor, and he can't do that when he lets 'students like you' get away with shabby attendance and subpar schoolwork. "i don't just give students chances. but that doesn't make you special." and it was true—he's voluntarily failed 6 of his students before. "you'll do something about this, right?"

"yes, professor kennedy.." you muttered modestly.

"hmm?" he hummed inquisitively as he took your paper back. he was willing to give you a chance. "listen to me. i'll give you the chance to redo your paper. i know when students rush their work and if i see even a hint of redundancy in it—i will take all my chances back. and you are never taking absences from my class. i don't want you entering even a minute late, or leaving a second early. i hope we're clear, l/n."

naturally, you were scared. so you nodded up at him after countless confirmations that you will do you work and that you'll show up to class no matter what. he has to use your word against you, he's sorry but it's for your own good.

once he was satisfied, he gave you a nod and turned his side, dismissing you. after all, leon was a busy man. you're not his only student.

it was when you walked out the building and then 20 minutes away from it that you felt like crying. you hated being scolded by him :( but just when you were about to go through your bag for your handkerchief, you were stuck with an inconvenient realization. you forgot your handkerchief.

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ -♡- ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

leon just stared at the table where you sat from just now, backpack strap over his shoulders since he was just about to leave. he gripped onto either of them slowly as he stared down at your handkerchief in contemplation.

a twofold baby-blue hankie embedded with a subtle floral print. tentatively, he picks it up with his hand and examines it. for a minute his mind went blank, conflicting between chasing you and just returning it to you or to leave it by the lecture podium for her to retrieve tomorrow (when you hopefully attend his lesson again.)

..but blue was his favorite color.

"damn it." leon, with a barely audible mutter, shoved the handkerchief in his jacket pocket. he felt like the most guilty man in the world, poor boy.

...

leon sighed.

he wasn't celibate.

his hormones were in shambles once he got to his place. perhaps part of it was because he knew he hasn't graded the recent tests yet.

manspreading, tie loose, shirt stuffy and jeans undone while his hair wisped in slightly disheveled directions. cold breaths followed out his pretty mouth.

"nnn..fuck.. uhh-" leon whimpered into the baby blue cloth, laced with your perfume. he felt so guilty, so perverted. he shuddered every time he could see over the edges of the cloth, seeing his cream-leaking tip from previous orgasms spurt teasingly. "ahh- fuuuck, p-please-"

his grunts were high. he was close to crying, staining your pretty handkerchief with guilty-pleasure-ridden tears. spilled milk, it trailed down his pretty shaft as he pumped it over and over. his motive was you— you were just so fucking stupid and had so much naivete, it absolutely vexed him knowing how endearing you were.

until a slip of leon's mouth surprised him, earning a small squeak from him as he accidentally muffled your name in your cloth. "fuck, y/n- a-ahh.. u-uhh..hmfff.." he was frustrated; whining and cumming while his mind stirred with the thought of you and your pretty eyes and the photographic memory of your dumbstricken face.

he gave out a tired whine into the cloth, so, so close to crying his frustrations out. he just wanted to eat you. christ, and he was so hard for you it made his head ache..

he could only watch his girth that pulsed with white. he pried the sweet handkerchief off his lips, breathing roughly and wiping his tears. he felt so, so sorry for you. the color of the cloth looked exactly like the skirt you wore yesterday. and yet to top it off, he (ashamedly) wiped his cum off with your dainty cloth. oh, he's so sorry..

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ -♡- ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

he didn't want to come to this point. or maybe he did and god was force-feeding him with culpability (he's atheist). he offered once to tutor you personally. one-on-one, no distractions. and so suddenly, someone's skirt was on his clean carpet floor..

your blouse draped over your shoulder and was pulled above your bra carelessly. he handled you with so much ease, squishing you into position while he tried to slowly push his thick length into your syrupy hole. you bit the knuckle of your thumb, and whimpered timidly that he was too big. but look where you were now.

"fuck- you're so- you feel so good.. shut up and take it all, yeah?.. hmmff-" there leon goes, harping you again. you were so loud but it wasn't even your fault, not when he was pistoning his cock into you and paying no hesitation to his pace. you were simply too sweet for him not to please. "sweetheart, hold onto me.." he mutters.

he was pushing every squeak and cute little wail out of his pathetic student, rutting his tip into that spot. "n-nnghh- aah!~" you were running low on words.

"yeah?- mhmm...ffuck, right here? huh?" the feeling of him thrusting against that spongy part more and more sent your mind further into autopilot. you were past squirming around and pushing him away, you just had to take it.. and take it.. and you were doing so good ♡.

"l-leoonn.. m-mm!- fffeels t-too good-" you babbled, mind stuffy with the pleasurably-shameful feeling of being gorged with your professor's thick girth. he shuddered at the way you uttered his name so adoringly. to leon you were so dirty but so, so cute. he had you puddled into tears beneath him while he fucked into your cute little hole with fervor. he just wanted to stuff you full, make you his, adore you forever.

he whined softly into your shoulder. you kept clenching down on him and it made him impossible to think. his phone was ringing on his bedside but he doesn't even give a shit—if anything he tried to drown it out by thrusting into you faster, to which made him lament into your skin. he even adjusted your hips up impossibly further.

"l-leeonn, n-no..— n-no more, please!!-" you blabbered adorably, voice mumbly and whiny as you clawed at his shoulders or back— you didn't know anymore.

"shhh shh.." he cooed over your cries with a quiet and honeyed voice, planting a soft kiss to where he could reach on your face or head. "i know, i know, it feels so good, hm?.. just let it feel good, baby—ahh, fuck-.. uhh..." he moaned lowly into your shoulder, unable to stop the way he rutted his cock into your creamed-up cunt. you seemed to be enjoying it, so why were you complaining? leon thinks to himself smugly but he knows he can't act on his pride. after all you made him like this—submitting to his carnal urges...

you didn't wanna cum a third time, huh? silly little girl.

leon growled quietly into the crook where your neck and shoulder met. you've never heard that sound from him. he held you down, constraining you, and squished you further into his mattress. a helpless and surprised yelp lolled out your tongue as he went impossibly quicker while he cursed like he was about to break down in tears. leon was mercilessly grinding his cock into all your sensitive spots, not letting your pleas of retort contest him. "fuckfuck- u-uhhh, take it, baby, c'mon... do it f'me, it's gonna feel so good-.. ahh!-"

he couldn't even finish his sentence—just piping his cum in you roughly as if he were proving a point, growling whinily along the way. he even kept fucking you shallowly while you were a dumb, sniffling mess with no sense of self-assertion as you creamed all over his shaft uncontrollably a third time. consecutive and quiet whimpers could be heard from you while you soaked in your overstimulation, needing him desperately to reassure you again through the overbearing pleasure of being pushed past what your cunny can handle.

"poor baby." he muttered to himself breathily as he gave the last of his tired, frustrated thrusts and pulled out of you; giving you the time to breathe while he pats your hair down comfortingly. his fluttering eyes finally closed as his head found refuge in your neck, slightly limp with exhaustion as he huffed cold breaths on the wet patches of your skin.

he pulled his head away after a minute of regaining what's left of his strength. leon looked down at you with subtle puppylike eyes, like he was sorry for ever being so harsh on you; even before he fucked the shit out of you. you quietly took your handkerchief to wipe some sweat off his neck— and his cheeks went a little rosy, remembering what he did to it that day you "lost" it ♡.

seems detergent can't wash something like lust away!

[spacerockfloater]

hi! i noticed you learnt about what ryan condal said regarding blood and cheese. it was…something. i would like to know your thoughts on the matter. though it would be completely understandable if you need sometime to gather them together or if you would rather not at all! thank you and bye!

Hello beloved, thank you so much for asking me! I’d love to share my opinion!

If anyone’s wondering, @rhaenelle is referring to this interview where Ryan Condal essentially says he believes that Blood & Cheese’s brutality and heinousness was exaggerated by the Greens in a propagandistic attempt to convince their subjects that Rhaenyra and Daemon are the worst villains ever born, hence why he toned the event down; to show us what he thinks is the accurate version of Jaehaerys’ murder.

Now, I am aware that Condal had already warned us that HOTD was going to be a feminist retelling of the events of F&B, which practically means that his plan has always been to whitewash the everlasting fuck out of Rhaenyra. So what do I think about this?

Well, for starters, I think that Ryan Condal is an excellent businessman. He knows what kind of tropes are going to make the audience engage with his show. He understands that people need a hero to cheer for and a villain to hate, therefore he removed the moral ambiguity from all of the characters and divided them into two categories: the Blacks, enlightened revolutionaries full of passion, deserving of admiration and correct in everything they do, and the Greens, pious fools with a moral superiority complex who are stack in the ways of the past and commit despicable crimes. The average viewer does not possess the intelligence to comprehend that both parties have their good and bad moments, and that they’re both correct in fighting for what each believes is rightfully theirs. Simultaneously, he benefits from the modern trends that want women in media to take revenge when they are wronged and emerge as triumphant girlbosses, because of course a white upper class woman’s suffering in a western world (or Westeros) society has everything to do with her gender and nothing to do with her personality or decisions (even if this works solely for Rhaenyra, because Alicent seems to be held accountable for every single one of her actions). Finally, it is obvious that Condal is trying to appease disgruntled Daenerys fans, so he has rebuilt Rhaenyra into this tortured martyr that wishes to change the world for the better in an attempt to make her resemble her great granddaughter six times removed.

For all of these reasons, I find it very logical that he is going out of his way to minimise the tragedy the Greens experience. It just doesn’t make Rhaenyra look good and honestly, who wants that? The producers saw how unhappy Danny’s stans were when they made her lose her shit; they’re not going to make the same mistake twice. They don’t want their show to tank like the last season of GOT did, so they’ll do everything in their power to keep the audience happy. And it’s working! What’s the last thing Condal says in this clip? “You kinda start rooting for [Blood and Cheese]!” and boy oh boy, the TB stans sure do! Literally hundreds of memes that rejoiced at Jaehaerys’ death were posted on X this week, with tens of thousands of likes. But when Lucerys died, it was presented as the most foul thing to ever happen in the ASOIAF universe. It is the TB supporters that dictate which child murder is good and which is bad, and that decision usually depends on which child came out Rhaenyra’s womb, not let’s say, the fact that one kid was a toddler that could barely walk, while the other was a teenager that laughed at the disabled person he mutilated himself.

It’s all just marketing

That being said, I want to clarify that I understand why Condal and the HOTD producers do what they do, but being a good entrepreneur does not necessarily make you a literary genius. Now, I’m not gonna explain why stripping Rhaenyra off of every character trait that made her interesting is a bad decision and that in their attempt to remove the blame from her so that they can elevate her as this righteous patron of feminism, they’re accidentally removing all of her agency and turning her simply into a victim, because I have a whole blog dedicated to that. But let’s just say that presenting Rhaenyra as this sexually liberated idol that’s incapable of evil, when in fact she’s an entitled aristocrat who’s completely at the mercy of men around her, from her father to her husbuncle, is the most performative activism move ever pulled in recent TV history, as well as pushing the narrative that Alicent suffers from internalised misogyny because duh, a woman can only be good and a feminist if she supports Rhaenyra, not when she pursues her own interests.

Ultimately, I think we just have to accept that this show is not meant for TG fans. We are not going to find any satisfaction in it. Everything that was unique and admirable about the Greens in the book has vanished. Their family dynamic is fucked up, Alicent’s children hate her, Aegon and Halaena cannot stand one another, Alicent is constantly a victim and never someone that chases her own ambitions, Halaena is very vague, Aemond appears to be more angsty than angry, Aegon is a stupid rapist, Jaehaerys’ death was turned into a mockery, Alicole was weaponised in order to make us shit on Alicent and Criston even more and so on. This show barely caters to us because we’re not making them any money.

The reason that there are more TB than TG stans is because (I’m gonna get so much fucking hate for this) most people who watch TV are fucking morons. I swear, when F&B came out 6 years ago, no one gave a flying fuck about Rhaenyra, because we all understood that everyone involved in the Dance of the Dragons was fucked up in their own way and that the message of this story, just like the general message of ASOIAF, is that nobody deserves to sit on that fucking throne. We were all in agreement about that. But then this fucking show came along and all the oblivious simpletons that swallowed whatever the producers shoved down their throats, grabbed the book and decided that “Woah, this book is obviously a critique on patriarchy and Rhaenyra is obviously the victim of the story”! As if GRRM, the man who said that he doesn’t sit down and think “Oh, I’m going to write a woman now” but instead he believes women to be people just like men, with complex personalities, would ever do that. And they just can’t believe that it is possible for book!Rhaenyra to be an evil racist classist full of entitlement! Surely it must be because the Greens are rewriting history! There’s no way GRRM, the man that created Cersei fucking Lannister, would ever make a female character that’s vicious and crazy just because she feels like it! Y’all need to sit down for a moment. I say this as a radical feminist that supports the 4B movement: you’re projecting your own ideas onto George’s work. Not all the media we consume has to reflect our ideologies, but if you think that it has to, then this book isn’t the anti misogynistic masterpiece you wish it was.

Like, when it comes to F&B, I am firmly anti Targaryen and did not wish for any side to win. I wanted them all wiped out to be honest. But when it comes to HOTD, I’m TG basically out of spite at this point.

All in all, I just think that things are going to go downhill for us from this point on. They’ll just keep glorifying the Blacks until the very end.

[wosoragebaiter69]

you don’t have to be perfect

barça fem x teen!reader, lucy bronze x teen!reader

request: here

A/N: also i would just like to say, if anyone has any feedback for my writing it’s greatly appreciated cuz i’m not the best writer ik that but i want to improve.

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

It was apart of the contract I first signed with Barcelona that I continue my studies and finish school. Not ideal, but I get by with around 80% and sitting on a B for most my classes. What I didn’t factor in was the amount of stress I would have on top of the League and UWCL games when exams and assignments from 6 different classes were coming up. That’s hard on a 17 year old.

I felt myself start to drift away from everyone in the 2 weeks before mayhem. First it was denying to go out with the younger girls like Salma and Vicky, both of whom understood. Vicky being the same age as me and Salma only 2 years older than us. Then as expectations rose, classes became longer and filled extra information. All the time I wasn't on the pitch, I was studying. Or sleeping. (we dont talk about how even thats being cut down to maximum 5 hours a night).

Living with Lucy meant that she was bound to catch on to what was happening. It was inevitable. She took me under her wing when I first arrived along with some of the older girls and since I don’t speak Spanish natively, I was told to go with Lucy who was told to keep an eye on me. It’s nice, when you don’t want her to worry about how you’re ignoring everyone and have bags under your eyes whenever she sees you. She really does try her hardest to get me to do anything that’s not over analysing and over-studying the numerous topics, but no matter how much it pains me. I always turn her down.

After another night of studying until 2am, there’s an early morning training session and I know I’ve only gotten 4 hours of sleep. If I told the medical staff I’m sure they’d pale.

I’m aware that I probably look like death walking, but it doesn’t bother me. If I pass with above average grades, I’m happy and I know my actual parents will be too. I ignore the concerned looks that Irene and Alexia give Lucy, and get changed ready for the training session.

It’s gruelling, the lack of sleep from the past 2 weeks has finally started to catch up. When I least needed it to. Maybe I am working too hard. It’s too late for that though. I know I’m being watched by the captains, acting for a little bit longer won’t do much harm. Can it?

When the third water break rolls around, I sit on the floor and flop onto my back, closing my eyes. Too tired in the moment to do anything other than breathe. The sunshine above me dulls as Lucy and Alexia stare down at me. When I open my eyes. My captain has a raised brow, while my roommate has her arms crossed.

“Y/N, get up please. Now.” It’s Lucy who speaks first. I don’t give in. What’s their problem?

“No. I am fine where I am thank you very much.” I bite back. Lucy looks like she’s trying to hold herself together and Alexia looks furious. Unconsciously, I sink into myself hoping the ground could swallow me up.

“Nena, we won’t ask again.” The spaniard says, her voice low as she sticks out her hand.

I reluctantly take it, pulling myself up and staring at the two in front of me.

“Come.” Alexia says blankly, leaving no room for argument before walking toward the main building. I sigh, doing as she says or I know I won’t hear the end of it. Lucy trails just behind me, her jaw set and making sure I don’t run away.

When inside I’m placed on a couch, wishing and praying to any extra-terrestrial being that I can leave this confrontation. What is it even about? Why am I here? I’ve done nothing wrong.

“So, we noticed you’ve been pushing people out. You also look dead.” Classic Alexia, straight to the point.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I look away.

“Really? Because when I go to bed, which is around midnight and sometimes 1 if I’m doing other work. Your light is always on. You better fess up now before we make you do extra laps, and clear all the equipment from training.” It’s Lucy this time, starring daggers into me. Still, I don’t let up.

“Maybe I left the light on.” I shrug. “And why do we have to do this right now? I have 2 exams tomorrow. So, if I may. Let’s finish training so I can get to study and do other things.”

“This is exactly what I’m talking about Y/N. You’re deflecting absolutely everything we say. You’re not taking the information in. I get you’re stressed but that doesn’t mean you isolate yourself.” She pauses, sighing deeply. “We are going home right now. You will not touch your school work, this has gone on for long enough. I know Alexia agrees with me.”

“Before you argue, just think. Is this really the best way I could’ve prepared? Yes nail in, do the study for good results. But also remember to utilise the support system you have, the team, the coaches, take a break.” By the end of the rant I feel tears well in my eyes. I feel someone hug me and I can tell who it is by the obscurely large hands.

“Nena, go home with Lucy. Get some rest, and not only will you feel better but it gives your brain a break. When the week is over we can talk more but for now go.” The Catalan smiles warmly. I nod my head saying thanks before walking with Lucy to the car.

“Do you feel alright? You do look very pale.” She places her hands against my face and frowns. “No temperature. I’ll get some food into you and we’ll have a rest day. Just us.” I nod slowly staring out of the window as my mind races.

When we get to the apartment, no conversation is made and I immediately go and take a shower. It’s there that I cry and let all my frustrations out, the stress finally taking its toll on my mind.

When I’m dressed and ready I walk out to the smell of pancakes and Lucy sitting on the couch with Narla next to her. She hears me and turns her head around, eyebrows furrowing at the state I’m in.

She pats the open spot next to her which isn’t taken by the Westie and hands me a plate, which I accept gratefully.

It’s a comfortable silence, but I know she’s waiting for me to say anything. And this time, I do.

“I’m sorry Luce.” My voice is quiet and more high pitched compared to what it normally sounds like.

She smiles lightly.

“Hey, these things happen. You’re smart, just as Alexia said give your mind a rest and you’ll do better. Myself, Keira, the rest of the team only want the best for you and your well-being. Let’s not talk about this now, take it step by step. You’ll be ok.” I nod wiping freshly formed tears as she pulls me into a big hug, giving the rest of her pancake to Narla who eats it happily.

- - - - -

And ok it would be. I end up playing Fifa with Lucy the rest of the day before eventually falling asleep against her. As for the exams, I pass by with good grades and after everything’s done the team takes me out to a restaurant to celebrate. As much as I deny it, this team is the most important thing to me. I love and adore them all so much.

[marzipanandminutiae]

Hello!

I am an aspiring author who struggles with accurately portraying historical clothing, and I stumbled across your blog while searching for photographs and information on late 19th century/USA Gilded Age fashion. From the research I've seen compiled across books/the internet, the clothing of the upper class from that area is very well documented in paintings, garment catalogues, photographs, museums, etc....but finding information on what the day-to-day wear of normal people was like is proving much more difficult. Since you seem to be knowledgeable in the subject of historical clothing in this approximate time period, I was wondering if you knew about any good resources to learn more about what people who couldn't afford to follow upper class trends were wearing in the general era as well as any general information around these items.

If it helps, I'm focused on eastern and southeastern United States farming/small railroad town/mountain mining/gulf coast wetland communities, but even just more general resources about what sort of clothing that the average poor person during the Gilded Age wore would be greatly helpful. I've been able to find a few photographs here and there, but these probably aren't an accurate depiction of a persons' 'day-to-day' wear, and I also haven't found much on how women learned to sew homemade clothes, what garments if any would have been bought, where people in rural areas would have sourced their cloth, what undergarments were like, how work shoes were made & aquired, ect.

Please feel free to ignore this if it isn't something you're interested in answering as I'm sure you get a lot of asks, but I'd greatly appreciate it if you have any pointers!

So here's the thing about 19th-century clothing:

in many ways, it's the same all the way down

now, that's a serious generalization. is a farm wife in Colorado going to be wearing the same thing as a Vanderbilt re: materials, fit, and up-to-the-minute trendiness? obviously not. but because so much of what people wore back then has only survived to the present day in our formalwear- long skirts, suits, etc. -we tend to have difficulty recognizing ordinary or "casual" clothing from that period. I also sometimes call this Ballgownification, from the tendency to label literally every pretty Victorian dress a Ball Gown (even on museum websites, at times). Even work clothing can consist of things you wouldn't expect to be work clothing- yes, they sometimes worked in skirts that are long by modern standards, or starched shirts and suspenders. Occupational "crap job clothes" existed, but sometimes we can't recognize even that because of modern conventions.

A wealthy lady wore a lot of two-piece dresses. Her maid wore a lot of two-piece dresses. The trailblazing lady doctor working at the hospital down the road from her house wore a lot of two-piece dresses. The factory worker who made the machine lace the maid used to trim her church dress wore a lot of two-piece dresses. The teenage daughter of the farm family that raised the cows that supplied the city where all those people lived wore a lot of- you get the idea. The FORMAT was very similar across most of American and British society; the variations tended to come in fabrics, trims, fit precision, and how frequently styles would be updated.

Having fewer outfits would be common the further down the social ladder you went, but people still tried to have as much underwear as possible- undergarments wicked up sweat and having clean ones every day was considered crucial for cleanliness. You also would see things changing more slowly- not at a snail's pace, but it might end up being a few years behind the sort of thing you'd see at Newport in the summer, so to speak. Underwear was easier to make oneself than precisely cut and fitted outer garments for adults (usually professionally made for all but the poorest of the poor for a long time- dressmakers and tailors catering to working-class clientele did exist), but that also began to be mass-produced sooner than outer clothing. So depending on the specific location, social status, and era, you might see that sort of thing and children's clothing homemade more often than anything else. Around the 1890s it became more common to purchase dresses and suits ready-made from catalogues like Sears-Roebuck, in the States, though it still hadn't outpaced professional tailoring and dressmaking yet. Work shoes came from dedicated cobblers, and even if you lived in isolated areas, VERY few people in the US and UK wove their own fabric. Most got it from the nearest store on trips to town, or took apart older garments they already had to hand and reused the cloth for that.

I guess the biggest thing I want to emphasize is that, to modern eyes, it can be very hard to tell who is rich and who is anywhere from upper-working-class to middling in Gilded Age photographs. Because just like nowadays a custodial worker and Kim Kardashian might both wear jeans and a t-shirt, the outfit format was the same for much of society.

Candid photography can be great for this sort of thing:

Flower-sellers in London's Covent Garden, 1877. Note that the hat on the far right woman is only a few years out-of-date; she may have gotten it new at the time or from a secondhand clothing market, which were quite popular on both sides of the Atlantic.

Also London, turn of the 20th century.

A family in Denver, Colorado, c. early 1890s.

Train passengers, Atlanta, Georgia, probably 1890s.

Hope this helps!

[intotherumiverse]

★ ૮₍ ≧ . ≦ ₎ა 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐏𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐲 !!

ღ. synopsis ; one peice characters and the majors and trades they're in !

ღ. featuring ; luffy m. ; zoro r. ; sanji v. ; ussop ; robin ; nami ; chopper ; brook + bonus !

ღ. cw ; weed mention, cursing, shitposting

ღ. notes ; i haven't written in so long I forgot how to so this.... bare w me on this one !

luffy

luffy is an international relation major

all the professors love him and its defintely the only reason he's passing his classes

he has not one clue what going on (most of the time), head empty

also has really good finals grades

like its so surprising to see him pass with a low b high c average

he's really likeable, everyone and they momma wants to hang out with him

usally hanging out with sanji (bc he cooks) or zoro (caus he thinks he's cool)

he tutors with nami and robin sometimes (they're the only ones that can deal with him on the regular)

he's so silly and goofy i love him your honor

zoro

bussniess major but is never doing what he needs to do

classes? not in them. Homework? What's that? he is no where to be found and that should scare you.

he's somehow doing well in class and no one can figure out how he's doing it.

he's the captain of the fighting club (first rule of fight club? no talking about fight club) and he's good with members and running them

he hates the idea of hazing in his club and will kick you out if you try it

he has a special bond with one of the advisors given to him and he defends him like hell

he hangs around luffy bc he thinks of him as a little brother and wants to make sure he's alright

fights with sanji because he thinks its sooooo fucking funny

he's a regualar at the local bar to the point they don't even I.D him anymore they're just like "there's zoro."

sanji

definitely a food science major

he loves trying out new recipes and helping in the kitchen

sometimes when money gets low, he'll have a bake sale and they always do really fucking well

sometimes he'll take apprentenships for "fun" and so he's just racked up expirence in working in different places

his dream job is to have his own resturant where he can create his own dishes and not take any shit from anyone

also (because my sanji is a weed smoker not a cig user) will sometimes make weed pastries and they do so well when he sells them

would be outside on a smoke break but somehow never smells like weed its so crazy

would be the type of student to grumble and complain about homework but still do it anyway (he's just like me fr)

ussop

went to a shopworking trade school (his momma didn't want him to learn nothing after high school so she made him)

he found out later that he like working on different things and keeping himself busy

he also like gardening in his spare time

he's like really good at it and sometimes when his garden is too much for his family, he'll either give it to his neighbors or sell it in the farmer's market

his most frequent customer is sanji because sanji likes the freshest products avaliable

sanji askes him to hang out and try his recipes from time to time and eventually he makes friends with everyone

nami

earth sceiene major with minor in accounting

she is the the most ruthless student you'll ever meet

she don't take any shit from no one regardless of who you are, which is why she makes such a good tutor

she makes sure all her students get a good grade and because she tutors both zoro and luffy, she makes BANK

she also is the pretty girl on campus and all her friends pretty too !

hair done, lashes done, lashes done, face card don't decline, body tea !

she loves hanging out with the group but she'll never tell you that but everyone knows she cares about her people

she's lowkey scary

she isn't afriad to curse you the fuck out when you piss her off

fiercely loyal my girl nami is badddd

robin

history major with a minor in english

knows everything about everything and is one of the best tutors of the campus

she's kinda shy (mostly cause she doesn't like people but she's trying)

luffy thought she was cool and just kept bothering her until she reluctantly accepted

she's a real history buff and can debate her history like no one else

once got into it with zoro for a peice of random history

chopper

struggling medicene major

he looks stressed at all times and somehow is keeping a 4.0 gpa

luffy and zoro will come over with brusises and he just takes one look at him and sighs deeply

he helps in the nursing home with the doctors because he feels happy when people are treated

he doesn't like when people treat him or others differently so he's such a big advocate for anti discrimination against anyone

he likes helping people that most doctors would ignore and people hate him for that

he's not good at taking compliments so its funny to see him react to the compliments

he loves sweets and he loves when sanji makes them so he's always first in line at sanjis bake sale

he's so cute and small your honor

frankky

mechanic (trade school)

a literal grease monkey

he's always making something in his garage and

he makes custom peices for his friends and even sold some to some of the rich kids

besides that he's really cool about things

he's co chill about everything and help fix things whenever the crew needs it

all in all a cool dude

brook

old ass music head

he's one of the best musicains and he's so casual about it

he's a allumi for the school and he takes students every year to train them and teach them what he knows

he only takes like 5 students a year so the spots are very competative and very hard to get into

hes so chill otherwise

the type of mentor to call you out on your bullshit but still

extra little bonus scene!

the gang goes to Jinbe's resturant every week after all they're classes. Luffy had stumbled upon it one day and he just slowly started to get his friends to go their and that's just become their hangout spot since then. Jinbe pretends to hate when they come over but in all actuality, he loves talking to them and getting to know them as a group and as individuals. he loves their energy and will make sure they eat well and they're getting good grades.

no tag list for now but make sure you're supporting the people that are spending time making works for your entertainment !

@rynfiles ; @strawhatkia

[olderthannetfic]

My two favourite things in the world are both books that have all the elements that I enjoy, and I mean this in the sense of both the ID-gratifying elements like whump and fucked up intriguing character dynamics, and broader and more poignant topics about society and humanity and how it all functions and also some fucking beautiful writing.

Thing A has a massive fandom, whereas thing B has a fandom of like 20 people. This is due to several factors: A got an adaptation and lots of promo, and is also in a genre that doesn't seem intimidating and that fandoms tend to like interacting with, whereas B begins in a way that feels too highbrow/complicated so loads of people bounce off of it even though in the end it has more or less the same mix of ID-gratifying elements and poignant commentary on human nature.

I need to be clear that it's the combo of the two (+the sheer quality of the writing and plotting) that makes those books my two favourite things ever. There's just something very comforting about a work of art that effortlessly gets the things that you perceive about the world at large and find important but ALSO includes all your favourite kinks and trashy romance dynamics.

Now, you'd expect the fandom A to water down the source material and reduce it to incorrect quotes but there's actually a large and quite popular contingent of people engaging with the more philosophical/moral/sociological themes of the work, with excellent quality meta that gets as much traction as the cutesy ship fanart and people going apeshit over the whump and the meowmeowness of the morally questionable characters. There's arguments and fandom drama as well but I cannot describe how much I fucking love it there simply because the average fan understands the source material fairly well and is ready to engage with all of its elements, hot romance and whump and reflections on human nature and all.

OTOH fandom B tends to attract snooty intellectual types - and you can immediately tell from the profiles that they're snooty intellectual types. Lots of people calling themselves "bluestockings" and having the most stodgy upper middle class academia person attitudes imaginable. Which makes sense because you need to have a certain level of... confidence in your ability to comprehend complex things in order to not give up on the canon material halfway through? There's a very prevalent attitude of thinking they're cooler than other people because they're into this super deep and complicated thing.

The funny thing is that they seem to absolutely refuse to engage with the actual themes of the work and insist on mangling them and misunderstanding the characters to gush over the whump and the toxicity of it all. This, combined with the small size of the fandom, and the snooty intellectual attitude (sensitivity to opposing opinions because they've built their entire personalities on being Very Smart and Always Correct included!), and the frequent incapacity to comprehend that sometimes the grey morality and ambivalence is ON PURPOSE, makes me very reluctant to engage with the fandom at all even though the brainrot about the canon material is by this point an integral part of my soul.

I go into the tag almost every day - it gets a couple of posts per week from the same 15ish people and almost all of the ones that aren't jokes that fall flat misunderstand the canon while being obnoxious and snooty and gatekeepy as fuck.

Whereas in fandom A nobody's really putting on airs - they're all like "yeah we like this popular thing, isn't it cool! let's talk about the cool thing!" I don't know what my point was with all of this, beyond the fact that, man, I WISH fandom B were more like fandom A and it makes me sad that it's not.

I just want more cool people that I can discuss shit I like with, yeah?

(funnily enough I'm pretty sure that like 50% of fandom B are also at least casual fans of A, or at least A's mid adaptation, they just don't often have a lot to say about it.)

--

*id

[tuskhansworld]

Dusk and Dawn

DEMO LINK

You have failed, you have failed yourself, your mom/dad and your friends. It was your last chance to graduate, and you blew it. If only you had studied harder had done better. No one said college would be easy.

It was supposed to be an ordinary walk, one where you could ruminate in peace as you wallow in your own self-pity. Going off path was the first mistake, the second was failing to turn back when you had the chance.

What now? What direction will your life take? Is there even a chance to get back to college and if there was would you take it. Would you take the ordinary over this?

Dusk and Dawn is rated 18+ for explicit language, explicit sexual themes, drug and alcohol use, violence, morally questionable behaviour, and so much more. Dusk and Dawn is an urban fantasy type IF inspired by CYOA’S like slayer v4, gifted and supernatural detective. If you haven’t heard of this, I recommend that you do. They’re amazing.

FEATURES

Customize your MC (they whose life you will live) appearance, personality, and coping mechanisms. Will you be broken? How will you cope by being accepting in denial or dissociating

This is an urban fantasy type IF as the story progresses you will work on your character’s abilities as well as skills. Will you go down the path of a Knight, or bishop. Currently a work in progress.

Engage in fiery romances with an array of characters or not. The choice is yours.

Ros

Alexandrea/Alexander Ariti

Holier than thou attitude. Believes they are better than everyone else thus making them the best. The mental gymnastics it took to reach this conclusion is somewhat worrying. Has an ego so inflated it’s a surprise their head hast exploded yet. Sadly, is severely competent that bragging is just plain honesty to them. Considered a genius by many. Likes to pull up quotes from philosophies and other things. Actually, gives good advice if you can get over the condescending attitude.

Description: Tall with an athletic build, dark mahogany skin, with eyes the colour of honey. Their dark kinky hair is long currently worn in tribal braids inset with golden ornament and as an afro at the back. Forming a sort of lion's mane. They prefer wearing simple long flowing clothes and they took the ROOK class route.

Blaise/Blanca Everest

An absolute motorcycle riding, shades-wearing, vodka drinking badass. Knows what they want, and lord help you if you stand between them and that. Collected to the point of coming of as standoffish and whilst also being a complete and utter jerk. Rumours about them sometimes spread. B could care less. Knows obscure rituals and can get difficult to find incidents through less savoury means. Don’t ask where b gets them, seriously don’t. A close friend to St. Dew.

Description: They are of average height and have a lean, solid build. Their skin is pale and covered in beauty marks, and their eyes are hazel-coloured. Their dark hair is ear-length and trimmed into a messy but stylish wolfcut. They prefer wearing dark colours with soft, loose tops.

Isra/Isran Dawnstar

Your local “plant mom” and geek will mansplain anything they love and are interested in. Is somewhat endearing since they usually talk about interesting topics. Also, can help you research very obscure myths and legends. Can talk for hours about gardening and alchemy. Grows their own [i]alchemic[/i] ingredients. Wink An alchemical genius will brew amazing potions and philtres. Usually tests some of their more eccentric potions on themselves.

Description: Almost as tall as you, with an average build, I has a sharp jaw, high cheekbones and a hooked nose. Their eyes are sharp and narrowed, with black eyeliner used to highlight the green in them. Has a chemical burn atop their left hand from one of their first experiments. Straight dark hair that’s shoulder length.

Narrak/Narrah St.dew

An absolute darling, a literal gem. You’d be hard-pressed to find anyone that doesn’t like them. A fun-loving person who most definitely was a golden retriever in their past life. Can be a bit of an airhead. It’s not that N is dumb it's just that they could care less unless something interests them. Though don’t worry they have a lot of interests. Loves anything and everything that involves outdoors, hiking camping, though more partial to rock climbing and surfing. Knows how to give piercings, usually re-pierces their own for…reasons. One of the only people to Everest their best friend.

Description: Average height, with an athletic build though leaning towards that of a runner, their skin is the colour of caramel, with a dusting of freckles across their nose and shoulders. Long curl dirty blonde hair sometimes though rarely worn in a bun.

Rowan/Rowana Barlow

If kindness could kill then they would be wanted in four different states. Though they may have killed a few with their ‘Bear hugs’. Even then the police would let them go with a slap to the wrist. Kind to a fault. Though R knows their limits. Won’t let anyone walk over you. Prefers to talk than to fight. Has vitiligo across their body.

Description : Taller than average with a bigger build, patches of their hazelnut skin is a light pink tone. Vitiligo is most prominent on their head and face with a large section of the eye, forehead and hair affected by it. A patch of their ebon hair has lost its pigmentation as well as their left eyelash. Their eyes are dark blue.

Torek/Toren Metheka

Everyone knows about them. But is there anybody who actually knows them? Versed in both magic and fighting. They are the main reason why half of the recruits joined the Great Hunt. Tales of their prowess and skill border on legends. Is mysterious. Origins are unknown…to the general public.

Description: Tall solid thick build with broad shoulders and shoulder-length strawberry blonde hair. Their hands are large and calloused. Their storm-grey eyes stern.

Special romance route: There is a poly route but let’s save that for later.

Your choices will have consequences remember that.

[txttletale]

I feel like there’s a massive disconnect in the mind of the average tumblr user as to what it means to be an artist or what it means to be the type of person who would be affected by the proliferation of AI art. People are more scared of the world where commission-based artists lose X% of their clients than they are scared of the world where tens to hundreds of thousands of artists working for corporations are put out of jobs. I think this is because (among other things) a. Commission-based artists, by necessity, have a much stronger social media presence than artists working under an employer and b. (relatedly) The tumblr culture surrounding the creation of art emphasizes how the process of art-creation puts you in touch with your emotions and your soul, and the value and beauty of art is thus that you know for sure that someone cared deeply about it. The spreading of art becomes an endorsement not only for the questions and feelings that the art piece itself generates but for the sacredness of art creation itself. Under this understanding, while it’s pitiable that working-class artists are put out of jobs, that doesn’t really matter because artists working under employers aren’t real artists in that they don’t promote the inherent meditativeness and sacredness of learning to create art. What is under attack is not the working-class artist, but the idea that art has intrinsic value outside of anything that it communicates.

Does this make sense as an analysis?

yea i think that the thing about petty-bourgeois self-employed artists having definitionally louder social media social presences and therefore shaping what 'artist' means to people is absolutely spot-on. it is a really really salient phenomenon i've noticed in this where everyone who founds their arguments in deep concerns for 'artists' cannot conceive of 'artist' as meaning 'someone doing concept art for call of duty 104' or even really basic concepts like 'many many artists do not own their own work'

[lexosaurus]

I worked as a substitute teacher for a few years and one day I helped sub in an 8th grade science class. They were doing math like speed=distance/time. But they had a...really odd method for it. That I commented on because I'd never heard of it before.

And the teacher was straight up like "Oh yeah, this makes it really easy for them to do it for the tests. But its going to really fuck them up next year when they are in high school because they won't understand how to reverse the division. But that's not my problem."

And that comment has lived in my head so much. Like, she just did NOT care that the method was bad in the long run. She just needed them to pass the state test that year.

Also, it's literally a very basic formula, what do you MEAN?

Ohhhhh yeah. That's not exactly the issue in my district, as funding for us isn't directly tied to our state exam scores (thank god). Mine is dealing with both grade inflation and no grades below high school. So kids don't want to learn things if they're not graded on the material. Which is fair, honestly, as I also would not have wanted to learn things I didn't like if I wasn't given a grade or any consequences for not knowing it either. Mine's also dealing with a lot of the "memorization bad" thing that's going around, hence why the kids are entering high school not knowing any of their times tables. They just used a calculator their entire lives. They have NO concept of what numbers mean.

Like, at the start of the year, I asked one of my classes what 2 + 0 was and I got about thirty seconds of 15 kids shouting every number except 2. Which was sort of wild to witness.

At the start of the year, we did a week of review and then we had all the freshmen take a quiz of 7th and 8th grade level easy math problems as a sort of wake up call for them. No quiz corrections either, which they've never not been allowed to retake a test before...

The class average was a C-. Unsurprisingly.

Content Teacher warned me right before she posted the grades, and I spent a LOT of time that afternoon talking the kids down from a metaphorical ledge.

Lots of angry parent phone calls, too, but the math department held firm. The students HAVE to know how to solve this stuff. They NEED to know their basic times tables, they NEED to know how basic fractions work, they NEED to know how to rearrange one-step equations.

After that, we had our Very Frank Class Discussion about how they felt about their education. They felt very frustrated and unprepared, which we validated as we're also frustrated that they're so unprepared. But we were honest about other things. We told them that they couldn't get by just sitting there on their phone and copying the answers off the key anymore. We aren't going to reward an A for minimal effort. Yes, you have to take notes, and yes, you have to follow along with classroom example of problems or you won't pass the class. The students are responsible for their education, we all offer extra help, all our emails are open, all they need to do is ask and we'll never turn them away. But they do need to start taking advantage of all the learning opportunities/supports they have now.

Honestly, I'm so glad we had that convo with them. Felt like they got to vent a lot of their frustrations, and they realized that we were here to push them, but we're NOT their enemy. All our students have a study hall block, and if they come to one of our rooms for even 10 minutes out of the entire hour, we will help them however they need.

A lot of my Freshmen have been really really good about coming for extra help, or emailing and asking if they can stop by for a few minutes to do a few homework problems 1-1 with me.

(And yes, for those worried, while we didn't let them retake that first quiz, two weeks later we did give them another assessment after on the same material, but with slightly harder problems and worth more points. Class average was a B!)

I tried to keep this short, but I guess I had a lot to say aksjnfksjdnkajn

[apomaro-mellow]

Divine and Damned 1/? Read on AO3

a/b/o; cult fic; Steve has been hiding his omega nature and living as an alpha. When his family moves to Hawkins, he catches the eye of town freak, Eddie Munson. Steve finds himself drawn to Eddie, unaware that the Munson family has plans for him…

Hawkins appeared like most other towns. Schools, neighborhoods, post office, library, the usual. The people were just as average. But among them lived a group that operated by different rules. A group that had secrets. A group that had no formal name but simply called themselves

The Family.

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

Life had been pretty easy for Steve up until he underwent puberty. That was when his first heat hit and all of his problems started. His parents called it a stroke of luck that it happened during the summer. They hid him away the entire week and even after that, Steve wasn’t allowed to see anyone until the suppressants they gave him took effect.

He was the only son of Richard Harrington. He couldn’t be an omega. And Steve had done a pretty decent job of keeping up the ruse until he let someone get too close. It had been one of his house parties and someone went into his bathroom, finding the pills and scent blockers. It didn’t take long for the rumor to spread and for his reputation to be ruined.

Steve thought having the cat out of the bag would force his parents to accept it at least. But no such luck. They simply moved. Easy as that. From small town New England to small town Indiana. And so Steve began his senior year with no friends and hiding who he truly was again. With his broad shoulders, he was able to pass for an alpha. And after wowing the athletics department and joining a couple teams, he cemented his place in the hierarchy of Hawkins High School very quickly.

That was the version of Steve that Eddie first laid eyes on. 

Eddie had heard that a new jock had joined the flock but it wasn’t until he happened to be by the field that he saw him. Long legs hidden under sweatpants that stretched as he ran laps around the football field. The late August heat had him wearing a crop top that stopped mid-torso. Eddie’s first thought was that perhaps Hawkins was getting the ball rolling on co-ed integration in sports. But as he continued to watch, he realized he must be mistaken. None of the other players were treating him like an omega.

In fact, despite his newness to the school’s ecosystem, others seemed to defer to him. So he must be an alpha. But Eddie found beauty in all, regardless of gender and designation. And Steve Harrington was a work of art. 

He told his uncle so that very day at dinner.

“Hm, and you’re sure he’s an alpha?”, Wayne had asked.

“I didn’t get the chance to get up close and take a whiff, but he must be”, Eddie said. “That or a beta.” He swallowed. “I know I’m meant for an omega-”

“Your destiny says nothing about an omega”, Wayne said. “And even if it did, if you’re drawn to this boy, follow that feeling. Your mother was drawn to me first. But that led her to my brother. We are all guided in ways we can’t begin to comprehend.”

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

And so while Steve was not an omega, Eddie watched him all the same. He hung around with Jason and the rest of the basketball team. But Eddie noted that whenever he swooped in to save a freshie or member of his club, Harrington was suspiciously absent. They didn’t share any classes together, so Eddie was only able to steal looks outside of those times. He wasn’t subtle at all as he stared at Steve in the lunch room but he didn’t care. He wanted to see what Steve would do.

What he did was ask around. Who was the guy who was always staring at him?

“Him? That’s Eddie Munson. He’s a freak”, Tommy had answered. It was definitive and didn’t leave room for much questioning. But Steve was curious.

“Why’s he a freak?”, he asked.

Jason replied this time. “Munson, his family, and some others…they’re not normal.”

“How do you mean?”, Steve urged.

Jason just shook his head. “You stay clear of him and you won’t need to find out. They should’ve been run out of town a long time ago.”

That just gave Steve more questions. He turned to look at Eddie and found that his gaze still hadn’t wavered. Even as his group of friends spoke, some even getting rowdy, Eddie’s eyes didn’t stray from him. Steve couldn’t look away either. Tommy stood and glared in Eddie’s direction.

“You got a problem, freak?!”

Eddie’s lips parted and he licked at a fang. Steve suppressed a shiver. Blockers kept his omega scent from leaking but he tried not to work it too hard by feeling arousal. He turned his back on Munson then, bringing up a game they had to change the subject. They all eagerly latched onto that.

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

The game ended in their victory and there was going to be a party at Tommy’s to celebrate. But before that was the most daunting part of Steve’s life. The locker room. His blockers weren’t powerful enough to hide his scent if he got aroused. But regular sweat from exercise was fine. It just smelled of salty adrenaline without being infused with his natural scent. Honestly, it had been so long, Steve forgot what he really smelled like.

No, his smell wasn’t the problem when it came to this. It was being in such close quarters with his friends and having to hide a particular part of his anatomy. Steve typically got away with it by a number of strategies. Being the last one in the locker room, undressing at a snail’s pace, distracting the others with gestures and conversation. 

So far, it had worked and he was able to undress and shower alone without anyone noticing anything. But tonight, Tommy was snapping at him to pick up the pace.

“There’s omegas hot and ready and heading to my place. I bet that game has ‘em soaked!”

“You know if an omega is wet before they get to you, it means they’ve been fucked already”, Andy grinned. “Nah, the drier they are, the tighter they are.”

Tommy’s nose scrunched. “Jason, you hearin’ this?”

“Only whores get wet at the slightest touch. And I don’t lay with whores”, Jason said. “The girl I marry is gonna be pure as snow because she’s saved herself just for me.”

Steve raised a brow. “You’re saving yourself for marriage?”

“Why would I save myself? It’s the wife’s duty to be pure.”

“Wish there were more dude omegas in this town”, another teammate piped up. “I heard their pussies are the wettest.”

“They’re sluttier too.”

“Steve, c’mon!”, Tommy urged.

“I’mmmm actually gonna go home and shower first”, Steve said, putting his jacket on and grabbing his bag.

“What? Dude just run in the shower and let’s go.”

Steve smirked, putting on the charm. “The hair doesn’t happen on its own. You’re not the only one who wants some pussy tonight.”

He got away with that and after showering, doing some actual primping, and taking another dose of suppressants, he went to Tommy’s. The party was already jumping and the house was filled with teens, both from Hawkins and even a few from out of town. This was Steve’s element. He loved to drink and smoke and no one suspected a thing about him. It was easy to forget who he was when he was three drinks in.

It was easy to ignore when he’d see someone like himself being crowded around and then led away to a room. Or like now, when a cheerleader was slumping across the couch and some guy picked her up and took her upstairs. It wasn’t happening to him and wouldn’t happen to him so why should he care? Why should he follow them upstairs? Why should he call out to make sure she was okay?

“Hey!”, his voice left his mouth without permission as he stood in the doorway.

“Fuck dude, get your own. Or like, close the door and wait your turn? I’m not gonna be long and she’s ready to go.”

She was almost completely passed out, as evidence of her groaning and how she was trying to turn to her side but was unsuccessful. Steve wanted no needed to say something else to save her. But what was he supposed to say? And the guy was already unbuckling his belt, Steve’s presence clearly didn’t matter. Then he smelled something burning.

“There she is.”

Eddie Munson appeared next to Steve, then shouldered his way into the bedroom. The guy paused in undoing his pants to see who else had barged in.

“Fuck off!”

Eddie wasted no time in scruffing him and pinning him to the wall. “That little bitch owes me money. So you can either give her to me, or I can beat it out of you.” 

He didn’t wait for a reply as he turned and threw the girl over his shoulder and left the room. Steve’s lips are still parted and as Eddie passed he realized the burning scent was him but there was something else to it. He followed behind, unsure of where Eddie was going or what he was doing. People gave the alpha a wide berth until he found who he was looking for. Or rather, she found him.

“Simone! Oh my god!”, another cheerleader ran up to Eddie. “Let go of her, you freak!”

“Wait, no-”, Steve tried to speak up because there was clearly a misunderstanding but Eddie just grinned wide, baring his fangs.

“Keep a closer eye on your little lambs. I almost got a bite outta her.”

Why wasn’t he telling them the truth? The whole party turned to behold the spectacle and it wasn’t right. Eddie wasn’t the one they should be scorning. Eddie didn’t overstay his welcome, leaving the party before a mob could be formed to kick him out. The ordeal stayed in Steve’s head, even when the party ended and he went home.

He tossed and turned in bed, fixating on Eddie’s scent. It was something warm and familiar and yet he couldn’t place it. It was driving him mad and he tried to think of something else. But he kept coming back to that moment. That girl, completely helpless and Steve was useless. 

And then there was the base fear underneath it all.

That Steve could have been her.

If he was living as the omega he was, would he be considered just as disposable as her? The way his friends talked was seared in his head. It was how everyone talked about omegas in the locker rooms and anywhere else that was split by designation and gender. Steve had known this for a long time. But when he had to face the truth of how others viewed omegas, it was like a slap each time. Even Jason, who went to church, didn’t hold them in any sort of high regard. 

But Eddie… He had swooped in and saved her like it was easy. Would he have extended the same kindness if Steve was in that position? Somehow, the idea began to form and that was what finally calmed Steve enough to go to sleep. 

In a world where he was openly an omega. Maybe things wouldn’t be great. The guys he called teammates and friends would leer at him. Maybe one would even get handsy. Or it could be exactly like tonight. Steve having a great time until he drinks a little too much…or maybe someone slips him something…He’s taken upstairs against his will, completely at the mercy of whoever has him. And that’s when Eddie steps in, pushing the assailant away and holding Steve close as he carries him to safety.

Steve is asleep by then and his dreams are formless but the sensations are there. Surrounded by the scent of a safe alpha. The birds were chirping in the bright early light as Steve moaned himself awake. The morning felt warm and syrupy and he couldn’t tell why until he began to wake up more.

He realized his lower half tingled and his cunt was throbbing with the aftershocks of an orgasm. He just had a wet dream. A notion that was mortifying on its own made even worse when he remembered his dream. So it was even worse than he thought.

He just had a wet dream about the town freak.

Part 2