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#having lit the cigarette (idk why its not like i spend a lot of time reading while smoking but no matter)
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I need to read i know it will fix me at the very least while im doing it
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seo--jun · 3 years
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heyo heyo it’s kat back again with a new muse !! this is sam and he’s posh as hell !! read more below the cut !! my discord is kat#1056 if anyone would like to plot there !!
━♡ guess the 26 YEAR OLD NOVEMBER baby just arrived to dallyeog! it makes sense, because WEON “SAM” SEOJUN  is just as BRILLIANT as the month of NOVEMBER. wait, why do they remind me of KIM NAMJOON? beyond that, they seemed OUTGOING & INTROSPECTIVE upon first glance. i heard someone say they’re sort of DISTANT & SPACY though. i hope they get acquainted here in COMPLEX #4 / APARTMENT #6 / FLOOR #4 ; HE seem(s) to have a lot going on with HIS job as A FOOD CRITIC. ( kat, 20+, she/her, est. )
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basic info !
name: seojun “sam” weon age: 26 pronouns: he / him birthdate / sign: november 26th 1994, sagittarius (idk whats with me and sags i just love to write them) occupation: food critic, photographer (mostly related to food for articles, ect, but as a hobby also does nature photography and candids of friends and family)
background !
sam was born in seoul, south korea to a family of prestige and occasional notoriety. he’s the only child to a successful lawyer (mom) and a renowned art critic (dad). growing up his parents jobs had the family moving around pretty often and sam ended up living in the states for a lot of his childhood (thus the english nickname). he always had a knack for cooking and, admittedly, some of the finer things in life. he liked nice clothes and furniture, he liked clean floors and chandeliers, he loved good food and fancy restaurants, but never to the point where it was gaudy, always more appreciative than show-offy. 
he isn’t judgmental. at least, he doesn’t think so. he’s been privileged his whole life and he knows it, doesn’t take it for granted or think less of people in different situations then himself. he knows his career was largely influenced and amplified by his parents success, his ability to make money and do what he loves only an option because of the support he was given. he's thankful for what he has, but he also experienced a lot of distance from his parents due to their careers and never had many lasting relationships due to not have siblings and moving around as much as he had. 
he was always an exemplary student, though he struggles to take full credit for it given the tutors and teachers he had being some of the “best.” failure, he supposed, was never really an option. he had freedom, though. cross country trips by himself became an option at the age of sixteen and experimentation in careers, life, and style became something he loved, something he relied on. he’s well-traveled, friendly, and also inexplicably.. lonely. he fills his life with work and travel and new people to avoid being solitary, nothing more shaking than sitting in an empty apartment with no one to talk to, the only savior the sound of the television playing to an vacant couch in the other room to avoid the empty side of his bed but... anyways.
so how exactly had he ended up in dallyeog? well, it’s sort of a funny story, really. he had a lease somewhere else (perhaps somewhere of similar intrigue… perhaps somewhere much, much nicer) ready for when he came home from a stint in california but when he arrived it seemed there were some problems with the paperwork and... long story short he had nowhere to live. after some quick last-minute searching he found that dallyeog was one of the only complexes that had an open availability for more or less an instant move in. and now he has a year and a half lease. so. that’s that. 
wanted connections !
connection: not a life coach but i’ll coach you in life TAKEN
aesthetic: empty packets of ramen / smudged eyeliner / colorful clothes patterns / raucous laughter / painted fingernails / big sweatshirts / long hugs / walks around the city / late night phone calls / special ringtones / crying on a train / fighting over the bill / holding someone’s face in your hands
in depth: they weren’t meant to be best friends, not quite like this. they met in the apartment building and your muse was at some sort of rock bottom, maybe sam ran into them crying in the stairwell late at night, maybe they locked themselves out of their apartment -- whatever it was, he offered to help and since then, well... he just kept helping. it’s not pity and it’s not a savior complex, he knows your muse could survive without him, but he likes spending time with them and they want to be helped. whether it’s life advice, fashion advice, cooking help, or any other variant -- sam has their back. similarly, sometimes its good to be reminded to let go a little, embrace mess and chaos and just accept life as it is; not everything can be helped, not everything is avoidable. a classic case of opposites attract.
connection: pretty handsome awkward
aesthetic: flushed cheeks / drunken laughter / holding hands / bar stools / leaning towards someone when you talk / messy hair / heavy jackets / over-the-shoulder and around-the-waist hugs / talking til late at night / strategic ‘good morning’ texts
in depth: they met at a bar and hit it off. it was a classic meet cute, he was out by himself stressing over some emails he has to deal with and your muse happened to be seated nearby. your muse broke the ice and then hours later he looked at his watch, surprised. it was late. really late, like the-bar-was-about-to-close-on-a-friday late. he offered to walk your muse home and very quickly realized that was also HIS way home and, well, you’re neighbors!! surprise!! now it seems you have an ongoing flirtationship that exists over beers and in a jacket slung over your muses shoulders that has yet to go anywhere serious. 
connection: that ‘struggling artist’ type of love
aesthetic: paint splatters on a white wall / torn-up sneakers / sticking your head out of a sunroof / throwing stones at closed windows / banging on a bedroom door at two am / sticky notes on a bathroom mirror / ‘this reminded me of you’ / glitter stuck in the carpet / abandoned canvas’ / a wall of photographs
in depth: your muse is unlike anyone he’s ever met before, and that’s saying something. this works best with an eccentric muse, an artist, a free spirit. your muse is, well, HIS muse. he has a roll of candids he’s taken of them on his camera while they hung out, sprawled over a couch or wandering the streets of the city. they don’t worry about the future, they live in the present and it’s foreign to him, he’s drawn to it like a moth to a flame. sam doesn’t consider himself an artist, not creative even in cooking or photography, but they make him feel -- unique.
connection: the ghost haunting my halls
aesthetic: late nights / darkened hallways / slow, quiet footsteps / lit cigarettes / stargazing / losing track of time / wearily catching each other’s eye / sweatpants and slippers / disheveled hair from tossing and turning / sleeplessness / old cartoon reruns 
in depth: you run into each other in the hallways more often than not. it’s a constant struggle to fall and stay asleep, singularly he’s sometimes found wandering the halls or going for walks until the early morning. somehow your muse always seems to be awake. sometimes they go for walks together, or they hang out in one another’s apartments, watching old reruns and eating whatever’s left in the fridge. it’s strange, really, how you never seem to hang out outside of these nights, but it happened organically, and it’s nice to feel a little less lonely when the sun breaks the horizon.
( note: all of these are open to any gender identity !! these are the main ones i have for now but i will be making a full plots page and adding more soon !! in the meantime feel free to message me to brainstorm if you have any other ideas you wanna explore !! )
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The Last Kingdom High School AU - Chapter One
Hey y’all,,, so I finally decided to make this a thing after like 100 years! Anyone remember this post? It’s a thing now!! All my friends in the discord finally convinced me to share my writings with the world so here it is! This is going to be a multi-chapter fic, I will update it during the summer but I have a job so idk if updates will be regular. Anyway here is chapter one aaah!!
Chapter One
TLK High School AU
Word Count: 4.1k
“Oi! Arseling! Get your sorry arse to the principal’s office, now!” Leofric shouted as he slammed the gymnasium’s phone back onto its receiver. Uhtred’s classmates all turned to stare at him with round eyes, like a bunch of identical creepy owls. Uhtred hated those looks. He’d been getting them a lot in the past two years.
“Thank you for coming to see me, Uhtred,” the principal Odda greeted him, smoothing some papers out on his desk as Uhtred shuffled into his office. A steaming hot coffee mug sat to the side, untouched, and a bagel with a single bite mark in it lay on a napkin near the corner of his desk. “I wanted to talk to you about your behavior lately.” Uhtred blinked slowly but said nothing, leaving the ball in Odda’s court. Odda sighed. “You’ve been starting fights a lot lately in the past few months...the most recent one, three days ago, I believe, you sent my son home with a bloody nose and a black eye.”
“He called me names,” Uhtred said tonelessly, “And he’s an arsehole.” Odda grimaced and sucked air through his teeth. “See, Uhtred, that’s just more of what I’m talking about. You cannot just go around speaking like that to adults. You need to respect your elders. Otherwise, you’ll just keep getting in trouble and getting sent to detention. You know these are put on your permanent record.”
“...Fine.” Odda nodded, as though satisfied, and shuffled his papers. The reading glasses perched on the edge of his nose drooped a little and he pushed them back up towards his face.
“I also wanted to talk about your grades this semester.”
“What about them?” Uhtred stated more than inquired, hair falling over his shoulder as he tilted his head to the side. The old man never said anything of interest to him, just that he needed to stay on track if he wanted to be successful in life and that he had to watch his words in his essays. So what. He scanned the rest of the principal’s office nonchalantly, searching for an item to fixate on so he didn’t have to meet Odda’s eyes.
“They were just fine in your freshman year, perfectly average and acceptable for you to graduate, but halfway through your sophomore year they took a turn for the worse. Last year you failed both your English class and your maths class, barely passing your science class with a C-minus.”
“And what about it?” Uhtred repeated, twiddling his thumbs. His eyes alighted upon the globe in the back of the room on top of Odda’s filing cabinet and he exhaled deeply, wondering if he could get it to spin with his breath alone all the way from across the room. It didn’t move and he felt his mood blacken a bit more for no reason whatsoever.
“See here, Uhtred,” Odda said, leaning forward and turning the paper so he could see it, “you’ve got this red letter here. What letter is this?” Uhtred rolled his eyes.
“An F, sir,” he said, turning the honorific into more of a mocking title.
“Yes, I see, and do you know what happens when you fail your core classes, Uhtred?” There was a pointed gleam in Odda’s eye.
“What, sir?”
“It means you fail. You fail the entire year. And when you fail the entire year, do you know what that means, hmm? Let me tell you. You have to retake all of these classes.” Uhtred shot out of his chair, outraged. “I most certainly do not!” he shouted. “I’m not taking these bullshit courses again! I could pass these in my sleep, this is fucked up!”
“Life isn’t always fair, Uhtred,” Odda gave Uhtred another pointed look for his language and Uhtred sat down again, chastised. He sighed. “I know you‘ve had a tough time these past couple years.” Uhtred scoffed and whipped his head to the side.
That was a bit of an understatement, he thought. Uhtred had never known his birth parents. All he had ever known was his adoptive brother Ragnar’s father, who was also named Ragnar. He had grown up alongside Ragnar, Ragnar’s sister Thyra, and Brida, his best friend, and together the four of them were inseparable. Two years ago, Ragnar’s father had died in an accident, leaving Uhtred and his adoptive family to Kjartan, Ragnar’s uncle. Kjartan was neglectful and ignorant; he mostly left them to their own devices since he couldn’t be brought to care enough about them to hurt them. His son Sven was an abusive arseole whenever he visited, though.
“I don’t want your pity. It’s fine.”
“Since I know there are extenuating circumstances involved, I’ll give you an ultimatum,” Odda said. “I’ve asked a boy in your class to tutor you in all four of your core classes. He’s agreed to do it - don’t give me that look - in exchange for community service hours. You don’t have to pay him a dime.” The chair Uhtred was sitting in squeaked as he uncrossed his legs and recrossed them.
“And who am I tutoring with, sir?” Uhtred mocked, thinking his day couldn’t possibly get any worse.
“His name is Alfred Rex, I believe he’s in your class-”
Ohhhhhhhh, fuck that.
“No!” Uhtred yelled, “I am not working with that pain in my arse!” Odda gave him a pointed look over his reading glasses.
“I believe he’s in your class, and you should be grateful that he’s agreed to do this for so little. He’s the brightest student in the school. Surely you won’t be able to fail any of your classes with his help.” Taking a sip of his coffee, Odda leaned back in his chair, looking satisfied. Uhtred was glad one of them was.
“You must have missed the part where I said he was a pain in my arse,” Uhtred seethed, fingers itching to strangle the principal - and maybe a particular student - to death, “We absolutely hate each other! This will be a fucking disaster! He doesn’t want to teach me shit, he just wants to lord over me like he always has!”
“Now I am just disappointed in you. Alfred wants to help, truly he does! And he’s all you’ve got right now, so you’ll just have to suck it up and deal with it, won’t you?”
“How much time do I have to spend with him anyways?” he spat. Odda met his eyes over his reading glasses and pursed his lips.
“You’ll be tutoring with him four days a week. One day for language arts, one day for maths, one day for science, and one day for history. At the end of the week he’ll give you a report of your progress. Really, you should count yourself lucky that he’s taking so much time out of his busy schedule to tutor you.”
I have to spend four days out of every week with him?!
“That’s not going to work, no way, I can’t spend four days out of every week with him. Give me anybody else and I swear to whatever god you worship that I’ll do it. Not him.”
“Uhtred, I already told you,” Odda’s voice grew firm, “You can take it or leave it. You’re not getting tutoring from anyone but Alfred. This is the last straw.”
“Whatever,” Uhtred hissed, “I’m leaving, and I’m not getting any tutoring if it’s from him! Alfred can screw his perfect self as many times as he likes, see where that gets him.”
“Uhtred! Wait!” Odda called after him. Shutting the door to Odda’s office, Uhtred pulled a cigarette out of his backpack and lit it, ignoring the multiple shouts of his name that followed the trail of smoke he left down the hall.
Uhtred slammed the door to his car shut, seething as he aggressively turned the ignition key and cranked the volume on the radio up high. He plugged his phone into the charger cord and hit call on the pre-existing groupchat he had with his best friends, Finan Agil, Sihtric Elflaedsson - his name was actually Kjartanson, but he legally changed it a few years ago when he moved in with his mom - and Osferth Heahengel. “Hey,” Uhtred said as the line clicked and they all greeted him. Gym class with Coach Leofric had just ended, so they were still in the locker room changing their clothes.
“The hell was that all about earlier?” Finan asked on the other side of the line. “You get sent to the office again? What’d he tell you?” The others voiced similar questions.
“You want to know what he told me? I’m fucking failing my classes. I have to get a tutor. I have to see him four times a week. That’s bullshit!” Uhtred ranted. “I’m going to have to repeat a year if I can’t bring my grades up. This is by far the worst fucking shit that has happened to me, ever.” Feeling his temper worsen, Uhtred made a right turn far more violently than he normally did and grunted as the tires squealed.
“What the hell?!” Sihtric yelled on the other end of the line. “You have to get tutoring?! That sucks!” Uhtred nodded his agreement even though they couldn’t see him.
“Do you know who your tutor is?” asked Osferth. “Maybe you won’t actually mind them. I mean if they said yes, they can’t be that bad, can they?” Uhtred gave a mocking laugh.
“Oh, dear Osferth, why don’t you just go on and ask me who it is?” The line went silent for a moment as all the friends considered how bad the news was going to be, and then Osferth spoke again.
“Uh...who is it?”
“Oh, only Alfred fucking Rex, the hugest prick in our grade.” 
“You’re fucking kidding me!” “You have to tutor with Alfred?!” “But you two hate each other’s guts!” They all exclaimed simultaneously.
That fucking bastard, Uhtred thought, I know he’s just doing this to get one over me. He’s always bossing me around and acting like he owns the entire school. I fucking hate pricks like him.
“That’s just the worst,” Sihtric said sympathetically. The sound of a door opening on the other side of the line roused Uhtred from his bitter thoughts. They must have finished changing and were now heading to their next classes.
“I know, but Odda doesn’t even care,” Uhtred spat, “He says this is all I get! I can’t believe his audacity! You and I both know that Alfred wants to boss me around and that’s that!”
“I don’t know, Uhtred, maybe give him a chance,” Finan said doubtfully, “At least you’ve got a tutor, and Alfred’s the smartest kid in the school. You’ve got an advantage here.”
“Well, whatever, I’m home now so I’ll talk to you guys later,” Uhtred said, pulling the phone away from his ear.
“Wait, you went home?!” Osferth exclaimed. 
“Uhtred, you’re going to get caught. That’ll just be another detention for you. Maybe you should come back.” Uhtred turned the key in his car’s ignition and slid it into his pocket, ignoring Finan’s words.
“Right now, I couldn’t care less about detentions,” Uhtred said. “See you guys later.” Finan protested with a “wait, you bastard—!!”, but Sihtric and Osferth bid him goodbye and he hit the end call button with little remorse before shutting his car door and making his way to the front door.
“I’m home,” Uhtred called out as he shut the door behind him. A chorus of ‘hey’s greeted him and Uhtred left his bag on a chair before walking into the living room. Ragnar - Uhtred’s adoptive older brother - and his childhood-friend-turned-girlfriend Brida were cuddling together on the couch. Some movie Uhtred didn’t recognize was paused on the screen. “Uhtred, what are you doing home so early?” Ragnar frowned at him as he sat up and pushed the blanket off his legs. Uhtred exhaled deeply and plopped on the couch like a deadweight, causing Brida to shove him with her foot.
“Didn’t feel like staying at school,” he muttered. “Left after gym class.” Brida sat up at that and she exchanged a glance with Ragnar, looking concerned.
“Hey, well,” Ragnar began, “Speaking of school, I have something I need to talk to you about.” Uhtred frowned.
Gee, how could this day possibly get any worse? I can’t wait.
“The principal called us a couple days ago and told us that...you’re failing this year, Uhtred,” Ragnar said seriously. Brida nodded alongside him.
“He said you’re going to have to repeat a year if you can’t hack it,” she added. “So Ragnar talked to him and the principal arranged for you to get tutoring with—“
“—With Alfred,” Uhtred interrupted, balling his fists, “Yeah, I already fucking heard.” Ragnar’s eyes widened.
“Oh, fuck,” he said.
“Yeah, oh fuck! I can’t believe you! Why didn’t you tell me earlier? I could have said no sooner!” Ragnar shrugged and laid back against the couch, crossing his arms behind his head. “I forgot,” he said honestly, smirking.
“Are you kidding me?! You know how much I hate Alfred! Why are you laughing at this?!”
“I’m not,” he said, “Don’t know what you mean.”
“Ragnar, please, tell me there is another option besides getting tutoring from Alfred of all people,” Uhtred begged.
“Sorry, Uhtred, but there’s no negotiation on this one. You need to get out of this house and away from Kjartan. You can’t do that if you fail your last year of high school. You need to go to college and, well, your principal gave you a stellar opportunity. Besides, you guys have never really spent any time together outside of class. Maybe you could find some common ground and we can finally be free of your constant complaining.” Uhtred dug his nails into his palms.
“How,” he growled, “Could this possibly be a good thing? Stop acting like my dad, Ragnar, you’re only a year older than me. I thought you were on my side about him.”
“Is that what this is about, Uhtred? That you don’t need help?” Ragnar rounded his eyes pleadingly. “Come on, Uhtred, do it for your future. Not because I think you’re going to be some great brilliant fucking Einstein, but you need to get out of here. Don’t be like this. You’re doing it whether you like it or not. I will call Alfred and have him come to our house for tutoring. You can do this on your terms or on ours.” Uhtred growled and reached for his phone, standing up from the couch to head upstairs.
“Give him a chance,” Ragnar said again. “One chance.”
“Fine,” he hissed, “But that doesn’t mean I have to like it. I’m going to hate every fucking minute of this and you’re going to feel extremely guilty whenever you think about it!”
“Where do you think you’re going?! Your first session is at three,” Ragnar called after him. Uhtred just yelled in response and slammed his door shut, the little bells on his door handle jingling.
As he lay on his bed in his room, the door locked, Uhtred took the time to reflect about the day’s events so far.
Alfred Rex...he’s a total fucking prick.
Uhtred had met Alfred in his freshman year of high school. Alfred had gone to a different elementary and middle school than he had, but Winchester High was the only high school in the area. They’d immediately gotten off on the wrong foot and had been bitter enemies ever since. Uhtred thought Alfred was an officious, sickly, annoying pain in his arse and Alfred thought he was a stupid child that needed to be told what to do. Hate at first sight, truly.
Uhtred sighed. His sister Aethelflaed was so much nicer. She was a freshman, so he’d only met her this year, but he had no idea how the two of them were related. Aethelflaed was a social butterfly and tried to include everyone in everything she did, while Alfred was just a complete arseole. Dammit, why was he stuck with him?!
Growling, Uhtred threw his phone at the wall.
3:02 pm. He was past the point of no return. Pushing open the library doors reluctantly, Uhtred poked his head in, scanning the area. A couple of students he recognized were perusing the library’s faculties. Aldhelm Sawyer - an extremely tall brunet who had a bag of wet dicks for a personality - lounged on one of the couches with a science textbook propped on his lap, one leg crossed over the other. A pretty ginger girl whose name he thought was Eadith sat at a table by one of the windows across from a guy with dark hair; Eardwulf was his name, if Uhtred remembered correctly. Aethelflaed, Alfred’s younger sister, was using one of the computers. When he walked in, she turned around and smiled at him and he felt his heart flutter a bit. Something about her had that effect on people. On the other side of the room in the tutoring section, Odda - the principal’s little shit of a son - was giving a freshman tutoring session at one of the whiteboards. Alfred was nowhere in sight so Uhtred headed towards one of the open tables and plopped into a chair, checking his phone.
“You shouldn’t be on your phone if you’re here to learn,” a voice behind him said. Uhtred whipped around, hissing.
“What do you want,” he bit out, before thinking better of it when he recognized the owner of the voice as his tutor, Alfred. Alfred was...how did Uhtred describe him? He was tiny and slender, shorter than Uhtred by about half a foot. The first time they met, Uhtred mistook him for a twelve-year-old, even though they’d both been fourteen. His wispy brown hair fell just below his ears and he had a pair of bright blue eyes that were so intense they always made Uhtred feel uncomfortable, framed by a pair of silver wire lens glasses. In essence, he looked like a nerd, which was another reason why Uhtred hated him. Nerds were annoying.
Uhtred scoffed and pocketed his phone, leering up at Alfred balefully. “Whatever you say, Lord. I’m here for your blessings and guidance, so let’s get this started, shall we?” Alfred sat down and the two of them unpacked their belongings in silence.
“We’re going over English today, as per Odda’s suggestion, so why don’t you show me where you’re at?” Alfred asked, putting his chin in his palm.
“Yeah, go on, teach me stuff...English. I bet you’re fucking great at it.” Uhtred crossed one leg over the other and leaned back in his chair until the front legs were off the ground, hoping to provoke a reaction. He was disappointed; Alfred merely ignored his blatantly disrespectful behavior, instead ducking his head to flip through his English textbook.
“Feel free to disrespect me,” he murmured, “But rest assured that Principal Odda will hear about it, and my reports are extremely thorough. I don’t care what you say to me, but just know that it will reflect badly on you.”
Oh my gods, I fucking hate this guy so much!
“Yes, my Lord, I live only to serve you,” Uhtred snarked, clenching and unclenching his fists under the table. Leaning over, Uhtred pulled his folder out of his backpack and slid a paper out. “We’re reading Of Mice And Men. You might think that’s a bit below your skill set, but here you are.” Alfred snatched the paper from his hand, rolling his eyes.
“Don’t be facetious, Uhtred. Just shut up and let me read this. That’s what I’m here for, as you said.” Never having been one to follow orders, Uhtred opened his mouth to snark again, but Alfred snapped his fingers to grab his attention and glared at him.
“I said shut up. I’m reading,” he repeated, his eyes moving back and forth like the spool of a typewriter. After a couple of minutes, he set the paper flat on the table and bit his lip, looking a bit uncertain of what to do.
“Well, Lord? Does it meet your lofty expectations?” 
“Can you not?” Alfred asked sharply, “And no, I’m sorry to say, it does not. What were you even trying to write? The subject of your analysis seems to jump to and fro. And while you are summarizing the story in your analysis, that’s all you’re doing. Summarizing. You’re not explaining why it’s important or what it means. Here, let me show you mine…”
“‘Bye, nerd,” Uhtred sneered, standing up and slinging his backpack over his shoulder. Alfred stood a bit more slowly, organizing all of his supplies into a neat pile before picking them all up and sliding them into his bookbag. 
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” Alfred inquired, not appearing bothered by the epithet apart from his clenched jaw. Good. “Make sure you incorporate what I told you today into your essay. I don’t want you to get a poor grade. And do keep in mind that I am reporting all of this to Principal Odda.”
Sure, whatever, Assfred! Feel free to slit your throat when you get home today! “...Yeah,” Uhtred said, before standing up and leaving without a word of thanks. Aethelflaed waved at him on his way out and he grinned back at her as he opened the doors.
“Welcome home, Uhtred,” Thyra greeted Uhtred as he stomped inside. The smell of spaghetti assaulted his senses and all of a sudden he felt much calmer than he had been a moment ago. “How was your first tutoring session?”
“Yeah, how was it?” Ragnar called from the living room, where he and Brida were cuddling yet again. The same movie as yesterday was paused on the TV and Uhtred had a feeling they hadn’t actually watched any of it and were just using it as an excuse to cuddle. A bowl of popcorn soaked in butter lay on Brida’s lap and the table was littered with empty beer cans, another in Ragnar’s hand.
“It fucking sucked. Alfred is even more of a bastard than I remember. Feel free to regret your decision completely,” Uhtred sniffed. Ragnar grimaced sympathetically.
“Is he seriously that bad?” he asked, snorting. “All I know about him is from your complaining.”
“He’s a fucking midget, but he tries to talk to me like he’s better than me! I fucking hate that, you know I do!” Uhtred threw his hands up. “He treats me like a stupid child and what’s more, he’s telling Odda everything that happens! Like some kind of probation officer! ‘Don’t disrespect me, Uhtred,’ ‘don’t use your phone when you’re supposed to be learning, Uhtred,’ ‘don’t breathe oxygen, Uhtred!’ He’s so annoying!”
“Sounds like a cunt,” Brida said.
“He is!!”
“Well, I’m sorry Uhtred, but if you want to pass your classes, your best bet is tutoring with him. You’re going to have to suck it up. Maybe you two just got off on the wrong foot,” he suggested, playing peacemaker.
“Not true,” Uhtred declared, “He just sucks at being a person.” He kicked Brida’s feet off the table so he could prop his own up and stole a popcorn kernel from her bowl. She flipped him off. “I’m just going to try to pass my classes this year and as soon as I do I’ll be totally done with him forever. Damn, that’ll be a good time.” Ragnar lifted his beer can in a toast.
“To the cunt who’s helping you pass your classes,” he said, and they echoed his toast as he downed his beer can and tossed it on the table.
“Ragnar, throw that empty beer can in the trash right now, you pig!” Thyra shouted from the kitchen. Ragnar shrugged and lazily kicked it onto the floor. “Ragnar!!” Giving Uhtred a ‘what-can-you-do’ expression, he stood up from the couch with a loud, obnoxious groan, plucking the beer can from the floor before lumbering to the kitchen.
“Hey, is dinner ready yet—”
“No! And stop asking, you animal, it’ll be ready when I say it is.”
“Geez, old woman, I was only asking, don’t hit me!”
Uhtred sat back against the couch and lifted the remote, clicking it until the TV changed to an acceptable channel. As the TV faded into background noise, he lifted his head to the ceiling and thought about what had happened that day.
Well, overall today sucked. I’m failing my classes and I’m getting tutored by Alfred, who’s a privileged arseole and also a complete tool. This whole year is going to be absolute bullshit with him around.
One chance, my arse. This year can’t end soon enough.
Art posts: @lauwrite1225‘s sketches of the high school!Coccham squad, @seaberrycloudberry‘s sketches of high school!Uhtred and Alfred, and @seaberrycloudberry‘s sketches of the characters in high school + sketches of Alfred, Aethelflaed, and Edward!!! THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH. THEY’RE PERFECT. Tagging @bellamehblake, @lonelyislanddaydreamer, @caleb-16charisma-widogast, @ucancallmechlo, @cocchamscrew, @myenglandmylove, @nightskyfangirl, @morganology, @tsukkinami @pokeasleepingsmaug here it is you guys!! I finally posted something!!!
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bloodydamnit · 5 years
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You went to MICA, right? I’m currently going there and it’s good (stressful as fuck, but good) and I wanna know; what did you hate and what did you love about it? (Oh my god I sound like those end of year surveys they give you)
Hello there!!! Omfg I’m literally on campus right now for pride!!! LOL just got myself a smoky burger from OTH what what. okay okay okay good questions. 
MICA has changed quite a bit since I was there. Like, my freshman year was fucking lit. If you take the shuttle and get Mr. Robert or Ms. Yvette, ask them about the nudists. Shit was wild. 
Our freshman/foundation year was different in general too? Like
Okay. So. lol. Our classes were:
Elements of Visual Thinking - Which was a chance to explore concepts, mediums, learning how to properly critique, etc. 
Critical Thinking - Which was just critical theory, but more on your own practice I guess? I don’t really know how to explain it. 
EMAC - Which was exploring different forms of digital media and how to use them (Premier, Photoshop, Audacity, recording devices, etc)
Sculptural Forms - Which was a chance for you to explore 3d media. So it was held in what used to be 15/15 and it was woodshop, plaster, 3d printing, and cardboard. 
Then, this is where I get pissed off and seriously fucking angry about this change. 
But we USED to have Painting and Drawing. Now, if you got a 5 in AP art, you gained an extra credit and could skip Drawing/Painting 1. HAH. IMAGINE THAT. HAVING A PAINTING AND DRAWING CLASS AS A FOUNDATION FOR YOUR ART. BECAUSE IT’S KIND OF NECESSARY. 
can you tell im a bit fucking salty?
They were separate classes and I think, they were extremely fucking important to the development of not only my art but my peers. For example, I fucking hated painting when I went to MICA. Literally fucking refused to touch the medium. 
I went to my first class with Latoya Hobbs, tried oil paint, and everything fucking changed. I was a GD major (or that was my plan) and I immediately switched to Painting and I never looked back. 
Unfortunately, yall don’t have that opportunity anymore. Especially since when you choose your major, you tend to stick with those classes. Which really fucking sucks, because you can tell the variety of art has gone down since this change happened. And I think that’s the thing that I dislike about MICA NOW the most. I had the chance to take things, was required to take them, and then I knew how to do a variety of things BECAUSE of those changes. And from what I understand, you don’t have those opportunities anymore. Which really fucking sucks. Because you also miss out on the amazing fucking professors in other majors as well. For example, Karen Warshal. I HIGHLY recommend taking her Portrait class and her Anatomy class. I swear to god, those were the best, more useful classes I’ve ever taken. Is she crazy? A bit. But she’s the most genuine, caring, supportive, and one of the hardest professors I’ve ever had. And thats what you WANT. You don’t want someone to butter you up, tell you your art is poppin when it’s not, and to try and let you off easy because you look upset. Karen tells you how it fucking is and that’s so god damn important. no matter what major you are, TAKE HER FUCKING CLASSES. They’re important and they’re necessary to your development as an artist. Even if you’re not into figural art. - also she makes food and brings it in. and if you’re sick she might make you chicken noodle soup. shout out to karen
Honestly, Karen was probably one of my favorite things about MICA. Along with Mark Karnes,  TONY FUCKING SHORE. LISTEN. YOU NEED TO TAKE A CLASS WITH TONY SHORE (PAINTING). I think he might be doing a class on race (which haha he knows hes white as fuck) and i think it will be fantastic. so keep an eye out, AND RUTH TOULSON THE ANTHROPOLOGY TEACHER. IT MIGHT STILL BE A REQUIREMENT. HER CLASSES HAVE AN 80+ WAITLIST. IF YOU GET ON. ITS SO WORTH IT FUCKING TRUST ME. SHES OUT OF THIS FUCKING WORLD. PAUL LONG, HE’S AN ACADEMIC TEACHER (TEACHES POETRY AND SOME OTHER SHIT. HE’S GREAT. BRINGS SNACKS EVERY DAY), and others?? if you want to know more, please message me and i’ll give you them!
Anyway, I havent really answered your question!
Dislike:Housing situation fucking sucked. getting a room was fucking ridiculous. They ran out of room for us because they started accepting more (this happened when sophomore housing was required. My year was the first year that went into effect and they had to buy out bolton hill apartments. people had to break leases, etc. it was fucking ridiculous). 
The MICA store is eh? It used really good and held in dolphin. But it was literally falling apart. Now its too.. idk. It’s fine. I prefer artists and craftsmen. 
Access to studios and equipment is eh too. Because of time constraints. 
How the student body treats the fucking faculty is DISGUSTING. One girl literally called one of the sweetest security guards the ‘help’. Ms. Gloria (senior in security) is fantastic, Officer Green is everything, Ms. Yvette is so fucking sweet, and Mr. Robert makes my heart sing. 
The student body in general LOLOLOLOLOL. ‘Surround yourself with good juju’ - Former MICA Grad (my best friend) The fucking student body mica page is a fucking dumpster fire lol. 
I don’t like how white MICA is and how entitled a good part of the student body is. The amount of entitlement is fucking ridiculous. And the amount of ignorance is astounding. Also the obviousness to what fucking city you're in, is so wild i cant fucking even. Like. MICA is deceptively beautiful (the MICA bubble). Which is why it is high in crime lol. Just be alert and don’t be a god damned dumbass walking around at 3 am with your fucking headphones in, smoking a cigarette, and acting like you’re fucking immune to being mugged. Just saying. Take the shuttles and you’ll most likely be gucci. 
I don’t like how MICA spends its money (our money). And what they choose to invest in - like buying random fucking buildings and not telling the students what it’s for, and fucking raising the price of tuition and living in order to compensate. 
The total and utter lack of transparency, etc. It felt eehhhh I don’t know how to explain it. 
NOW. I KNOW THIS SOUNDS LIKE A LOT AND THAT IM JUST SHITTING ON MICA. BUT MY MICA EXPERIENCE WAS THE BEST OF MY LIFE. I LEARNED SO MUCH. AND I FIND WHAT I LEARNED THERE TO BE INVALUABLE (except for the fact that I’m 56k in debt. just saying)
But really. I loved MICA. I wish I could go back. I met so many amazing people, made great connections, and I don’t think I would have had the same love at any other art school. (I have friends in SAIC, Pratt, Parsons, FIT, SVA, RISD - they all complain about the same things. they in the grand scheme of things, are material. Which important because, hah, money. But, material nonetheless. If you have the means, I don’t think these things I explained are deal breakers)
Now what I loved about MICA. Because honey. I fucking LOVED MICA:
When I was touring schools, I was kind of eh about them? Not in the sense that I wouldn’t have a good time or be ungrateful, but I didn’t get that feeling. Does that make sense? For example, I took a tour at SVA and I have very very strong opinions about SVA, I had no feeling. When I stepped on MICA’s campus, that was fucking it for me. Not only was I comfortable there, but the professors that were at the tour, made it their duty and went out of their way to make myself and the other potential students feel welcome. They were personable, they were kind and welcoming, they were warm, and that continued even after I decided MICA was the place for me. 
My class at least, had no drama lololol. Again, my freshman year was a hell of a lot of fucking fun. We didn’t have any big racist shit going on like other years (ahem ahem 2018, 2019). INSTEAD, we had the nudists, we had carrot videos (ask around about that), it kind of felt less cliquey? Because everyone was generally interested in being friends? Idk. Like we definitely had groups and they became more evident as majors really clicked in, but in the beginning, everyone was pretty much together (this was the first year that the grill opened and leake was a thing. So we were all figuring out the dorms together). I mean we had drama but it wasn’t... idk. It wasn’t like mica student body (maybe its because we didnt have that to fuck shit up lolol). 
On The Hill was my shit. Still my shit. I fucking love on the hill with a fucking passion. Pom Iced Teas, where you at. The neighborhood in general was really nice. Baltimore is one of my favorite cities and the stigma of it will be broken as soon as you start exploring it. HOWEVER, BE FUCKING SMART. DONT BE A FUCKING IDIOT. IF YOU DON’T FEEL COMFORTABLE SOMEWHERE, YEET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE. TRAVEL WITH OTHERS. DON’T BE THOSE DUMB ASS WHITE GIRLS FROM RURAL FUCKING TOWNS THAT THINK THEY CAN WALK AROUND AT 4 AM OR JUST WHEN IT’S DARK OUT, ALONE, AND BE OKAY. TAKE. THE FUCKING. SHUTTLE. 
The studio spaces were really nice so as they’re taken care of. the equipment is really nice. take advantage of it while you can. because once you’re out of school. hah. you’re screwed. 
Networking was nice. 
Being close to the Walters was amazing and the ability to go to DC for the day only spending 8$ on the Marc train to get there was amazing. Having Penn right on campus. 
Again, the professors were in majority, fucking amazing. 
Some professors had classes outside of MICA (karen has model drawing classes at her studio) take them! They’re really worth it!
I actually didnt mind the dorms. 10x better than most colleges. 
Accessibility was amazing. Especially since its not a closed campus, but everything is in one place. That’s not the case with a lot of Art colleges. 
And most of all, I just loved being there. I loved learning. I loved the people. I loved baltimore, i loved the professors. MICA 10000% shaped how I am as an artist in the best way and I think it’s an amazing place to be despite the downfalls. 
Don’t take everything I said as gospel. like I said, these are just my experiences as well as a few of my friends in the same fine arts department. The others, I’m not sure about. But yeah. I hope this helps! You can always message me and I’d be happy to refer you to classes, professors, etc. Good luck with next year!
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ethansoft · 5 years
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So I’ve been kinda writing this a little bit, here’s a sneak peek!! LET ME KNOW HOW IT IS?? I’m.. idk. I have more!!
STRAWBERRIES AND CIGARETTES
The sun was just beginning to make its way down towards the horizon, it was the first official day of summer and Ethan Dolan finally saw it fit to leave his house and spend time with his friends. It had been a rough winter. Long. Cold. Lots of snow. Ethan hates the cold. This was the kind of weather he liked. 80° and a slight breeze. But god this town is getting boring. He didn’t even mind staying home all winter, it’s better than the usual bullshit his friends partake in. Drinking, drugs, vandalism, it all gets so old after awhile. When you first begin, there’s the rush of knowing what you’re doing is wrong, you feel alive when that thought crosses your mind that what you’re doing is illegal, and could get you in trouble, but you’re getting away with it somehow. But after awhile it’s just old. Ethan wanted to discover the world, he wanted to discover what makes him happy, what would make him feel passion, and exhilarate him all at once. This was of course, not something he could share with his friends. Maybe his twin brother Grayson, if the mood was right. But definitely not his friends.
“E, you want a beer, man? You’re awfully quiet over there.” Ethan snapped out of his thoughts and looked over at Grayson, “nah, man... I’m good,” he responded. Grayson shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he said as he headed back over to the bonfire their friends had lit on the beach. Ethan walks over to the empty blanket laid out in the sand, and finds himself staring at the vast and infinite ocean, thinking about how badly he wanted to just leave. Just go anywhere. Just discover. Explore.
Ethan’s thoughts were quickly interrupted by loud laughter and screams. He jerked his head to the left and saw that all the guys he’d came with had found a group of girls, and they were removing all of their clothing and sprinting into the water. Ethan laughed as he saw Grayson pick a half naked girl up, throw her over his shoulder and take off towards the ocean at full speed.
Out of the corner of his eye, Ethan could see a girl, sitting alone, the same way he was, on a blanket away from the girls she had clearly came with. The difference between Ethan and said girl, was that she had literally brought a book and book light to the beach and paid no attention to her friends skinny dipping with boys they had just met. Ethan was immediately intrigued, but was also not brave enough to just walk up to this mystery, book reading girl and start conversation. Anyone who brings a book to public places clearly has no interest in holding conversation.
The girl looked up and noticed Ethan’s intense stare. She smiled and returned to her book. Oh god, how embarrassing. What the fuck. How do I convince her I’m not a creep now? Does she know I had been looking for awhile? What book is she reading? Why is she not out there with her friends? Were all thoughts that passed through Ethan’s brain at a million miles a minute.
Ethan hopped up off the blanket, brushing his hands against his shorts to get the sand off. The only thing to do in this situation that would possibly make it a little less awkward would be introducing himself, maybe act like he recognized the book cover and was trying to see the title? No, that won’t work. He sat back down, feeling just a little more mortified than he had before standing.
A wet haired Grayson approaches with a giant smile. “What are you doing over here, creep? Staring at y/n?” Ethan smirked. “You know her?” Grayson looked over at her, “not really, just have seen her around. Girl brings a book with her everywhere so clearly she’s too intellectual for me. Also not my type,” He laughed. “Not your type either, Ethan,” Joe, another one of their friends, commented as he approached Ethan and Grayson, “you’re a dumb ass and she’s a genius, it’d never work.” Ethan laughed, “sometimes opposites attract, asshole.” Joe laughed. “I don’t know man, she’s not that cute, look at all her friends. You’re crazy for being focused on the lame one sitting on the blanket reading while the rest of her friends are partying with us. But then again, I guess that’s exactly what you’re doing.” Ethan felt a pang in his chest and his cheeks flushed bright red. “Fuck off,” Ethan said below his breath.
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imperiusv · 5 years
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Rage
As i was taking out the laundry and hanging it on the drying rack, i started to reminisce about something that happened almost half an year ago, it was just after the last day you came to our home to take the money and have our last chat. Following days, weeks , months I was a complete mess , a wreck even, on the verge of total mental and physical collapse , the only thing holding my life together were the lies i told myself , drugs , working out and anger in its purest most primal form - rage.
I had bought a new drying rack , since you took the old one and I needed that shit to dry my clothes , I didn't have a lot of money back then , not that i am Donald Trump now , but back then i was barely afloat, after spending my hard earned money on booze and drugs and the stuff i needed to buy , oh boy, you took fucking everything, also the money i had to give you back, so every penny counted. I put too much shit on the dryer and maybe i pushed or idk , but the fucking thing was starting to break, slowly at first , I barely noticed that it was faltering under its own weight, then all at once it came crashing to the ground , all along with my freshly washed clothes on the filth infested terrace floor.
The thing is I had just gotten that pile of shit , not even a few days ago , it was brand new , not supposed to fucking break , but it did, adding one more thing to the growing list of things that were falling apart in my miserable existence at the time, one more thing i was suppose to have control over , to look after and care for, but i broke and mishandled. The rage that came from that situation of helplessness, i could hear the beating of my heart inside my own head, booming like a war drum , the tightening of every muscle fiber in my body,veins popping up on my forehead, my breathing intensified,as fight or flight was activating , i just let it all go, started breaking and throwing shit , tables , chairs some glasses,the fucking dryer,  everything was a red haze of furniture , blood and sweat . I grabbed the fucking thing and went to the shop to return it , imagine how often they give you something new after you break it yourself, i made such a fucking scene, they gave me a new one and paid me my money back, the poor people felt the brunt of my frustration, anger and disappointment, these poor cunts had no fault, they were not to be blamed for my failures and shortcomings, but nonetheless i took it out on them.
As i was walking home i felt like shit, but imagine my surprise when i got back up and saw the wreckage i had made, no wonder they didn’t give me a dime back from the deposit , why did I do something like that, why did i treat those people so bad, what was this thing i was becoming, i lit a cigarette and took in a deep breath , then the tears kept rolling , i had never felt so helpless in my life and i made a promise i never will again.
Now when i have a clear conscience and i look back at that particular event i realize that the whole thing was a metaphor of my life at the time, something i was supposed to take care of , falling apart, me blaming everything and everyone but myself and hurting other people in the process. I hurt a lot of people in those months, not just family, friends or the people i used and slept with , just to feel something, anything again, but probably a lot of other people as well, people like the dumb bitches at that silly shop , cashiers, strangers and so on. That's why i have been helping people and animals , making amends for my transgressions in the last couple of months, but not your fake fucking niceness and kindness , but real genuine desire and will to be just help people and not expect anything in return. Does this make me a better person?
Absolutely not.
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