#just sit down in class looking like i came out of the 1300s and fucking refuse to elaborate
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#me fighting agaisnt the urge to be extra on world book day and turning up to school deced out in a plague doctor costume#with a stick the bag of herbs and all and refusing to elaborte#just sit down in class looking like i came out of the 1300s and fucking refuse to elaborate
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I Got You - Chapter 1
Word Count: ~1300
Pairing: Professor!Dean x Reader
Warnings: alcoholism, shitty boyfriend
Summary: Y/N is used to dealing with her drunk boyfriend, Brandon. That is, until returning to college after a five year sabbatical. Y/N decides to take a fun history class and she ends up meeting Dean, or rather Professor Dean.
A/N: I am so stoked to share my first series!! Thank you to @emptycanvasposts for betaing every chapter. Tune in the next couple days, I’ll be posting all 9 chapters within the week. Happy Reading!
Series Masterlist
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You couldn’t help but be nervous. It had been over five years since you stepped foot on a college campus. 24 doesn’t seem that old to restart your education, but everyone around you looked fresh-faced, and it made you feel old, tired. But, you weren’t going to let anything stop you this time around. You were going to get your degree, get a great job, just like you had always planned.
You had survived two classes already that day, English Literature and Statistics, and now it was time for your history class. You were excited about this class, unlike the other three that you were taking. It wasn’t some basic U.S. History bullshit. Walking into the classroom, coffee in hand, you survey the room.
There were about 25 chairs, desks arranged in a semicircle facing a whiteboard. There was a small table in front of it, clearly for the teacher. There were about 13 students already in seats when you walked in, choosing to sit at the edge of the table. You liked being up close; it helped you focus and not have the temptation to look at your phone.
By the time class began, about 20 of the 25 seats were filled, and there was no sign of a teacher. A couple of minutes passed as people started to chat with others next to them. The door swung open and a man sauntered into the room.
He must’ve been your age, maybe a few years older. He was incredibly handsome, with a strong jaw and emerald eyes. He wore dark jeans and a grey henley with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. A pair of square-framed glasses tucked into the collar of his shirt. In one hand he held a laptop and in the other a cup of coffee. At first, you figured he must be another student. That was, of course, until he set his things down on the front table and faced the class.
“Evening, class. Welcome to Mythologies and Monsters. I am your professor, Dean Winchester. You all can call me Dean. I am way too young for anything else,” the class let out a small chuckle at his joke, “I trust that you have all looked over the syllabus, if not I suggest you do so before the next class. Today, we will just make introductions, say a little about ourselves. The class is a small one, and we are stuck together for 16 weeks. Might as well make some friends.”
Dean pointed at the person across the circle from you, letting them go first. Once it had gotten to your turn, you knew that you were the oldest in the room, the second being 19. It wasn’t upsetting, but something to make a note of.
“Hi, I’m Y/N. I am 24, and this is my first semester back at college for five years. I am a Creative Writing Major, with a minor in History. I decided to take this course because I like writing science fiction, so learning about different mythologies can help my writing in the future. That’s about it,” you smile at the rest of the class. Dean nodded before finishing up.
“As I said before, I’m Dean. I am 27, an Aquarius. Um… what else… well, this is my favorite course to teach. I would rather talk about monsters and gods than the founding fathers. I am a pretty easy grader, so lucky you guys. Just show up, chat, get an A.” Dean coughed, standing from his seat on the table. “Well, that was fun. It’s the first day, so get outta here. I will see you all on Wednesday.”
Before you could get up, you felt your phone buzz.
Hey babe. Won’t be home for dinner, work stuff. Sorry.
You sighed; this was so typical of Brandon. At this point, you didn’t know if he was actually at work or out with his buddies. All you knew was that he stayed out late most nights, and you hadn’t gotten laid in five weeks.
“You alright, Y/N?” a voice bringing your eyes away from the disappointing message. You looked up to see Dean.
“Oh, yeah. Sorry. See you Wednesday,” you smile, grabbing your things. He simply nods, smiling back at you. Damn, that smile was intoxicating. You couldn’t think that way for many reasons. You were in a committed relationship, and he was your professor. You quickly left, making your way to the student parking.
Making dinner seemed pointless, as it was just you tonight, so you grabbed a burger and some fries. It always sucked, going home to an empty apartment. You and Brandon had lived together for about two years now, but most of the time, it was as if you were alone.
You made your way up the stairs to the fourth floor where you lived. If you were going to have greasy fast food, you might as well forgo the elevator. You got to your apartment, opening the door to be met with darkness. Of course, he wouldn’t leave a light on. Not like you had asked him a million times already.
You spent the evening on your couch, eating not only the take-out but also a pint of ice cream. Binge-watching your favorite show, you ended up passing out on the couch.
It was around 2 AM when you woke up to knocking on your door. Shuffling your way over, you looked through the peephole to see Brandon. Opening the door, he stumbled his way in, reeking of tequila.
“Ugh… seriously, Brandon?” you roll your eyes. This wasn’t the first time this had happened, but it annoyed you that he couldn’t even get the key in the door.
“Oh, whatever… buzzkill,” Brandon slurred before making his way to the couch, passing out almost immediately. You rolled your eyes again. You always frustrated yourself on nights like tonight. Why were you with him? Why wouldn’t you just walk away? You were too afraid to admit the truth to yourself; you were afraid of being alone.
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Wednesday came quickly, and you once again found yourself walking to Myths and Monsters. You stopped at the coffee cart; exhaustion showed clearly under your eyes. You had spent most of the night before arguing with Brandon. He had come home wasted, yet again, this time trying to get you into bed. You had been so furious, saying that he needed alcohol to fuck you. The fight went on for hours. You got in line, trying to fight a yawn.
“Long night?” you turned around, seeing your professor had just gotten in line behind you.
“Yeah, you could say that,” you replied with a small smile on your face.
“I can’t do evening classes without a cup of coffee. I’ll start drifting off half-way through the lecture,” Dean chuckled at himself, “you the same?”
“Yeah, caffeine is my acceptable drug of choice,” you nodded, “Let me guess, you drink your coffee black?”
“How’d you know?” Dean cocked his head.
“You seem like the type, although I bet you sneak a frappe every once and a while,” you laugh.
“Shhhh… don’t tell anyone,” he winked, “what about you? Latte mochaccino-whatever?”
You let out a laugh. “No. Just two creams, three sugars.” He simply nodded, and before you knew it, he had moved in front of you.
“Coffee black, and another with two creams and three sugars,” Dean said to the barista. Your eyes widened, not even realizing the line was down to you. Dean turned back to you, two steaming coffees in his hands.
“You sneaky son of a bitch,” you say in disbelief, taking the coffee Dean offered you.
“Well, I am a professor, we tend to be pretty smart,” Dean chuckled, taking a sip of his drink, “let’s go, don’t wanna be late.”
You both headed into the classroom, where you took your seat. Dean put his things on the table again, facing the class.
“Evening people. Today we are gonna talk about the Aztecs…”
#dean#dean winchester#dean x reader#dean x reader series#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester series#SPN#spn fic#spn fanfiction#spn fanfic#SPN Family#supernatural#supernatural fanfiction#Supernatural fanfic#supernatural fic#supernatural series#reader insert#reader insert fic#supernatural reader insert#au#college au
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Dressed to Kill
Pairing: Professor!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Words: 1300
Warnings: Smut warning! ;) It’s basically all smut my friends. Sexy Bucky, implied masturbation, smut, sex, fingering, dirty talk, professor kink, tie grabbing, Bucky’s lap, lap sex, alcohol mention.
A/N: It’s HBC Back to School week!! Today is Bucky day, so naturally we’re going back to school with Professor Bucky on his first day at his new job. This is written for @the-ss-horniest-book-club based on this prompt from @buckstaybucky Enjoy, thank you all for reading! 😘
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“Baby, come back to bed,” you teased your husband playfully, whining slightly. You knew he couldn’t but he just looked so goddamn good that you couldn’t stop your desire, your need for him. There was warmth pooling between your legs and you hadn’t even gotten out of bed yet for the day. Bucky leaned over to kiss you goodbye, and you sat up, wrapping the sheets around your chest.
“You know I can’t doll, as much as I’d love to be naked right here with you right now.” His eyes flashed and he grinned, and you couldn’t help but pull him closer by his tie, kissing him. When the kiss broke you straightened it out and smoothed down his collar with a hum.
“You look fantastic honey, have a great day ok?” You gave him a saucy grin and swatted his ass as he walked away, earning a chuckle. It looked so delicious in those slacks, you couldn’t help yourself.
“You too baby girl, I’ll see you later.” You flopped back down in bed, rolling over and cuddling up in the blankets as you listened to the sounds of Bucky leaving. Tossing and turning, your hand finally wandered down between your legs, unable to get the image of him dressed up out of your mind. Your husband, the Professor. God he was sexy. He wouldn’t mind if you helped yourself out a bit to get the day started, would he? You promised you’d let him know just how you felt when he got home.
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It was a wonder you got anything accomplished that day. You’d seen Bucky in a dress shirt and slacks before of course, but it was always exciting, and it always turned you on. Especially the new ones he’d bought for his new job at the university, they were just the right side of tight that they’d made your mouth water the first time he tried them on.
Being his first day today, you weren’t sure what to expect, but had made dinner and set two glasses of wine out on the living room table. He came home shortly after that, and you sat on the couch, wine in hand, waiting for him. He walked into the living room to drop his bag on a chair not noticing you at first, turning to head into the kitchen.
“Excuse me, professor…” Bucky spun on his heels, his eyes falling on you, licking his lips and biting his bottom one at the sight of you. “Do you have a minute?” A smirk pulled at his mouth and he cleared his throat, heading over to sit down beside you. His hand rested on your bare thigh and squeezed.
“How can I help you miss?” You smiled and sipped your wine, nibbling your lip as he played along.
“I’m having a bit of a problem, I was wondering if you could help me out?” You looked at him through your lashes, his own darkening slighty as he looked you up and down. "I missed the lecture today, I wonder if you could help me catch up."
"Hmm, we can't have you missing lectures now, don't want you to fall behind."
He tisked and you dropped your gaze, feigning remorse. Setting your glass down on the table again, you slid into his lap, resting your hands on his shoulders. "Im sorry sir. I don't want to miss anything else."
Bucky hummed and gripped your hips, his eyes dark now, rocking you ever so slightly over his lap. "Aren't you an eager student," his voice was like sin, low and smooth and you felt yourself ruining your underwear as you squirmed in his lap. You grabbed his tie again and pulled, leaning in to kiss him with the hunger you had that morning. His mouth opened against yours and you're not sure who moaned first but suddenly it was heated and desperate, and he pulled you tight against his chest, licking into your mouth and biting your lip.
"Baby I've been thinking about you all day," you gasped into his mouth. Bucky kept kissing you, moving down your jaw towards your throat.
"Me too doll, I couldn't stop thinkin about you naked in our bed this morning. Made it fuckin’ hard to teach."
"Uh oh, professor, you were distracted during class?" You tried to scoff at him, but he ground your hips down into his lap roughly, right onto his half hard cock, bucking his hips up to meet yours. Your scoff turned into a gasp and he chuckled.
"No I was able to focus, but it seems that you're losing yours quite quickly. That just won't do." Bucky inched his hand higher up your thigh and underneath your skirt to swipe over your clothed pussy. You gasped again, and he rolled his hips, urging you to do the same, rubbing his fingers over you a few more times before sliding them into your underwear to dip into your wetness. He swiped them over your entrance and collected the juices, moving up to massage your clit. A soft moan fell from your lips, his touch sending shocks through you. You couldn't help grinding your hips down, rubbing your clit into his hand, losing control and riding his fingers. Speeding up your motions you started whimpering as he drove you right to the edge with his fingers.
"You gonna cum for me baby? All over my hand like a good girl?" His husky voice in your ear gave you the last little push you needed, orgasm ripping through you as you collapsed against him with a satisfied cry. "There you go baby, beautiful girl. Look what you do to me." He held you down on his lap, fully hard now, twitching against you. You whimpered and reached for his belt, fumbling to undo it, wanting him inside you.
“Bucky, please babe, I need you,” Bucky hummed and helped you, unzipping his slacks once you got his belt open. “I’ve wanted you since this morning.”
“So needy, aren’t you, beautiful girl?” You nodded and fell against him, his mouth finding yours again as he pulled his cock out and pressed it against you. He swallowed your moans as he pushed inside, a satisfied groan coming from his own throat. “Christ,” he hissed. “So tight and hot.” You whined out loud at the feel of him, his words and your own pure desire, and you started rocking your hips back and forth, picking up speed, clutching at his shoulders. Your combined pants and grunts filled the room, and Bucky held you tightly, kissing at your throat and collarbones, your fingers now buried in his hair. It didn’t take long for you to both reach your peak, his thrusts becoming more frantic until soon he was spilling inside of you, hot and fast. He reached down between your bodies and found your clit, rubbing it through his aftershocks, making you mumble and moan into his hair.
“Oh yeah, please, professor, make me cum again.”
“Ah fuck,” Bucky swore against your throat, his cock twitched inside you, and he rubbed your clit so perfectly that the tension inside you snapped again. You cried out his name as you drenched him, squeezing his cock, your whole body shuddering.
When you finally were able to sit up, his eyes were still dark and hooded, and he looked absolutely ravenous. ”I don’t know if you’re a good girl, or a bad girl, but I think you should join me in the bedroom for an extra credit session." He gripped your hips tightly and stood, keeping himself from slipping out, and carried you to bed. Your arms linked around his neck and you purred in his ear, teasing. "As long as I'm the only student of yours who is eligible for this."
"You're my best and favorite one. This is only for you, sweetheart."
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Tags! ❤️ @sfreeborn @jobean12-blog @crushedbyhyperbole @mannatgalhotra @bubbabarnes @buckysthing @marvelgirl7 @ikaris-whore @aesthetical-bucky @littleredstarfish @godofplumsandthunder @winterboobear11 @stuckyinamoose @our-whitetulips-us @throwmyheartawayagain @cristie24 @jesslovesyouall @my-own-private-library @hawksmagnolia @peaceinourtime82 @infinity-saga @kenzieam @sallycanwait68 @hailmary-yramliah @ballyhoobarnes @earthworthies @tinymalscoffee @this-kitten-is-smitten @buckosawrus @thefandomimagines @Kianifan @skkye @dark-academics-and-florals @buckysbunny @buckys-henley @rebekahdawkins @wearemisunderstoodlove @mrsbarneswillseeyounow @palaiasaurus64
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#hbc back to school week#bucky barnes x reader#professor!bucky#professor!barnes#bucky barnes x reader smut#bucky barnes imagines#bucky barnes smut#professor bucky barnes#hbc drunk drabbles#my writing#bucky barnes fanfiction
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Healing
Oikawa x Reader
TW: self-harm, vulgarities
Oikawa was a simple guy, nothing mattered more than volleyball, his grades, and girls. His life was simple, every day was a routine and he was used to it, he had close friends and fans and he was happy with how easygoing life was.
And on that Thursday morning, everything seemed fine. It wasn't raining that morning and Oikawa's mom made his favorite breakfast, the weather was starting to get a little warmer which was just what he hoped for. And as always, he greeted Iwaizumi at the convenience store they always met up before walking to school. School went about like how it usually does and training went smoothly.
At a glance, his day went about like how any highschoolers' would, but something was different on that day, an ominous presence lingered, waiting for the perfect moment to unfold.
(dash)
"Great job today team!" Oikawa congratulated, "training's dismissed," he said and as though as if on cue, everyone's feet began shuffling, in the background he could hear volleyballs being spiked but Oikawa was too tired to bother. He instructed Iwaizumi to stay back despite his grumbles and passed him the keys. Oikawa stifled a yawn, cursing at himself for staying up till 2 am last night.
Oikawa was just about to leave school before he caught a glimpse of your hair, he hurriedly ran up to you, "Hey!" he greeted, waving at you. He saw a small smile form on the corner of your lips despite your head held low. "Thanks for lending me your book during class just now, I owe you one, I'll drop by your house and pass it to you soon."
You nodded your head timidly and mumbled quick thanks and went about your way. It all happened so fast that Oikawa could barely acknowledge how fast you left. "Figures," he muttered to himself under his breath as he shrugged his shoulders. Even though you shared the same classes, Oikawa didn't really know who you were, sure, he knew your name and number and well, your address that you recently gave to him during class. But that was about it, that was all he knew about you.
Truth to be told, no one in school knew much about you, or so Oikawa assumed. He never saw you hanging out with anyone and whenever he saw you talking to anyone it was fast and dismissive. Maybe you just didn't like to be disturbed. The thought of you didn't linger for too long though, the moment he stepped home he was swamped with homework and friends to be entertained.
Friday went about as usual and soon enough, the weekends approached. Oikawa was about to go on his morning jog before your notebook caught the corner of his sight. Since you lived near, he figured that he could just drop by and hand you the book. So Oikawa wore his shoes and took off. Oikawa thought he looked like an idiot, who jogs with a book in their hand anyway? He dismissed the thought and plugged in his earphones, jogging steadily to the beat, easily falling into the rhythmic pace.
He was panting and sweating heavily when he rang your doorbell, he truly looked like an idiot. "Next time I should meet people first before jogging," he noted to himself. Oikawa tried to salvage whatever he could by combing through his hair with his finger as he tapped his foot impatiently. Just as he was about to ring the doorbell for the second, the door swung open revealing what Oikawa thought was your mom.
"Ah, what brings you here?" the unknown woman asked, Oikawa told her how he needed to pass your notebook back. "No worries! I'm [Y/N]'s mother, just go up to her room, it's the first door on the left."
Oikawa thanked her and made his way, he noticed how neat your house was as he went to your room. He knocked on your door and opened it slightly, strange, there was no one there. Oikawa went over to your desk and placed the book in the middle, but something made him stop on his track just as he was about to leave.
Sounds of weeping could be heard at the far end of your room, the sounds indicating that it came from your toilet. It was hard to notice but if you focused, it was evident that someone was crying. You were crying. Oikawa silently made his way over and paused, realizing that the door was not fully closed, leaving it slightly cracked open. He peered in and there was no one, so he looked to the left.
And what he saw made his heart drop. For the first time in his life, Oikawa couldn't catch his breath. He always knew how to compose himself but this time the air wouldn't go in. His breath was caught in his throat and his head began to hurt. Breathe, he thought, breathe. But he still couldn't no matter the what. He was just about to reach his limit before his body finally obliged. When the air finally came back and filled his lungs, he ran. He ran from your bedroom and from your mom that looked to concern, he ran past your house and past the convenience store he always went, he ran past his house and ran till his feet started to ache.
Oikawa wanted nothing more than for time to stop, for his memory to erased himself, but this was something beyond what he was capable of. He always considered himself as tough but what he saw made his stomach lurch. Puking at into the public's bin isn't always the best idea, he was lucky no one saw him. Oikawa's face felt like it was on fire and his eyes watered for vomiting nothing but acid, his throat burned.
Blood, there was blood all over. Well, not really everywhere. But there were tissues covered in them, but that wasn't what scared Oikawa the most. What scared was seeing you, sitting there, arms covered in scars and tears streaming down your face. He never wanted to hug someone this much before, all he wanted to do was tell you that it was going to be alright, that it was okay. Who was he kidding? He didn't even know what the fuck was going on.
During the 10 minute walk back home, the Grand King thought of the millions of possibilities he could try and help. None of them seemed to work, he couldn't just walk up to you and ask you what's wrong, it's not like he knew you personally.
So, on that fateful Monday, he decided that he was going to be your friend. That no matter what, he was going to heal you.
There were three things Oikawa realized by the time school ended. Firstly, it was easier said than done. Secondly, he couldn't find the time to talk to you, it seemed like everyone was somehow so interested to talk to him. And lastly, it was going to take a hell of a time trying to get you to open up. He found out that you didn't eat in the cafeteria by luck, he looked up and he saw you sitting on the rooftop, eating quietly, staring out into the distance.
The next day he ventured out, "Hey!" he greeted, putting on the most cheerful expression as he can. He saw that even though it was getting hotter, you were still wearing long sleeves, to cover up the scars possibly. And that was what he did every day. And he knew that eventually, one day, he'll find out why.
Author's note: Sorry for ending it so abruptly, if I were to continue I would be able to publish a book lmao. do you guys want a part 2 lol? just send me an ask if you do! I'm sorry if this is boring but I wanted to write something different, something that most of us struggle with today. Word count: 1300
#oikawa tooru#self harm#haikyuu#angst#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu headcanons#scenario#imagine#oikawa tooru x reader#oikawa x reader#oikawa tōru#mental health#oikawa#haikyuu!!#hq!!#hq#oikawa angst
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Sixteen: Chapter 1 (S9 Highschool AU) - Gabe
A/N: Hi. My name is Gabe. This is the first fic I’ve ever written. I’m sorry if it’s not that good, I’m used to writing screenplays and stuff with lots of dialogue and little detail. The story will gradually include all S9 queens in a high school setting. The italics symbolize inner thoughts. Bold with a name next to it symbolizes a text message. This chapter will be told from both Shea and Sasha’s POV (at different times.) Also, English is my first language but not my strong suit. I apologize for any technical errors. My blog is @shea-velour, don’t be afraid to send me a message or request. 1300 words, 3 pages.
The shrieking of the school bell startled the young artist. He jolted up from his sketchbook to quickly find numerous pairs of eyes on him. He had been spaced out for the whole period.
“Sasha, don’t even think about leaving today. I’ll see you at my desk. To everyone else: Class is dismissed, have fun this weekend and work. on. your. projects.” The English teacher strained the importance of this assignment to his students before gesturing towards the door.
PROJECTS??!! Sasha thought. He was really gone, as he had heard none of this earlier. He walked up to Mr. Haylock’s desk after everyone else left.
“Sasha…” he began sympathetically “I thought we were finished with this.” He motioned to the hardcover sketch book peeking from Sasha’s satchel bag.
“I’m sorry Mr. Haylock. I had a really good idea that had to be done immediately. I didn’t know it would take the whole period.”
“I won’t call your parents this time because I know how hard good ideas are to come by, plus your parents are probably tired of hearing from me. But don’t do it again. I’m serious, Sasha.”
“Okay… I heard there’s a project?”
“Worth 70% of your grade this quarter, due next Tuesday. Your partner is…….” He glances down at a paper “Jaren Merrell! Boy you got lucky on that one. He’s one of the smartest kids in this place.”
“I’m sorry, who?” The last name had sounded familiar but Sasha’s memory was failing him.
“Shea. Shea Merrell. Literally the only boy cheerleader, you can’t miss him.”
Sasha froze. He felt his cheeks warm. Of course he would get partnered with the hottest and arguably most popular boy in school.
“Sounds fun. I-I gotta get outta here. Ya know, get uh get started and stuff.” Sasha slowly backed away from the desk, stuck in a nervous stupor.
“You’ll probably find him out in the field practicing. Oh! And he grabbed a packet for you already.He seemed ecstatic to have someone with your creativity by his side.”
“Okay Mr. Haylock, I have to go…get that thing…” Sasha replied to his teacher’s over enthusiastic dialogue. He nearly ran into the door in the way out, lost in his thoughts.
Time to go find Shea, I guess. Or I could just go home…No. It’s the weekend. If I don’t get it now, I’ll have to wait until Monday and then I’ll only have one day to finish my half.
He sighed, pushing through the school’s exit doors. The sun was brilliant and shining in his face, probably reflecting off his bald head, too. He looked up to the sky, using his hand as a visor.
“Sun goddess what I have done to deserve this horrible treatment?” He whined under his breath.
“Don’t quote me, but I’m 98% sure that’s not how nature works.” A familiar voice came from beside him. He glanced over to see who it was.
Shit. Shea. Act natural.
“Oh really?” Sasha replied shakily.
“Yeah maybe if you weren’t always drawing monsters in class, you’d learn something.” Shea retorted effortlessly.
How does he know what I draw?
“Anyways, here’s your packet. It has all the instructions at the top, a copy of my notes and my number at the top. Text me if you run into any issues. Gotta run, talk later?” Shea jogged away, not needing an answer.
_
While Sasha wandered back home to Brooklyn, Shea attended cheer practice with the girls.
“Alright Glamazons, you’re looking great, we’ll regroup in 5 for final words.” Coach Matthews shouted.
As if it were rehearsed, the group broke off into their cliques. After retrieving his water bottle from the sidelines, Shea walked over to join his best friends on the bleachers. Aja, the cheer team captain, was regurgitating some gossip from earlier in the day. It must be juicy. Farrah and Valentina are locked into the story. Well, Valentina’s eyes were always on Aja. Young love, so beautiful, right?
“Girl you over here spilling alllll the tea. What’s up?” Shea asked as she approached the group.
“I’m telling them about that in-sane argument Trinity and Eureka had at lunch earlier. Remember the look on her face when Trinity stood up?” Aja responds
“BITCH I WAS SHOOK! She was all “you’re done because I’m gonna tell you why you’re done!” Biiiiiitch I can’t with these pageant girls. I thought they were gonna fight!” Shea nearly screams
“Not over that kid though. What’s his name, the weird one sitting between them?” Aja snapped her fingers trying to think.
“His name is Sasha and he’s not /that/ weird.” Shea says, all too quickly.
“Girl why you getting defensive?” Farrah jumps in.
“Because he likes him, duh.” Valentina says, staring at the group as if it were obvious. Shea cuts her eyes at the Latina.
How did she know?
“GAG! You think the gothy art nerd is cute?” Aja says, too loud. Their group is getting looks from the others.
“Alright girls, come circle.” Coach Matthews screams into a bullhorn, interrupting everyone’s shady murmurs and animated gossiping.
Walking back, the group continues their conversation.
“He’s not a nerd, and yes I think he’s very cute.” Shea begins, trying to diffuse the energy, “I gave him my number but said it was for our project.” I hope he texts me. He thinks, leaving it out from his previous statement to avoid more judgement.
“Aw that’s so cute!” Farrah gushed. She’s a sucker for anything ‘love.’ Her relationship with the school’s baseball and theater star, Alex, was everything everyone had wanted. They had the longest running relationship in the whole school, starting freshman year and continuing all the way until now, their junior year. You could very well say Farrah is the love expert.
_
Meanwhile back in Bushwick, Brooklyn, Sasha stares emptily at his project packet. Shea’s notes were well organized and his handwriting was neat but they still offered him no insight as to what in the entire fuck he is supposed to do. Flipping back to the front, he noticed a blue sticky note stuck to the top.
Shea’s number. Right.
Without thinking, he reaches for his phone and taps in the ten digits and a short message.
Sasha Steinberg: Hi Shea, this is Sasha. I’m VERY confused about this project
He pauses, stares at the text, prereading it and decides to add ‘lol’ to the end to minimize awkwardness. He gives his device another hard look and decides not to send the message.
“I’m so stupid!” He sighed as he throws his body backwards into his bed. Why am I even bothering trying to be friends? He’s so out of my league.
“Hey buddy. You alright?” His dad’s bassy voiced boomed through the closed door, alarming him. He jolted up, throwing the phone from his chest and onto his lap.
“Yeah, just fine. Homewo–” his voice cut off by a whooshing noise from his phone. He froze.
Quickly flipping it over, he realizes his message sent.
And I just ruined my fucking life oh my god. What. Did. I. Just. Do. Unsend!!! Why don’t phones have this feature???
Sasha was freaking out, his anxiety in full effect.
He’s gonna think I’m so stupid.
The young boy threw his body back onto the bed, this time landing face first into his pillow. This weekend was going to be terrible.
Or not.
#sasha velour#shea coulee#aja#valentina#farrah moan#trinity taylor#eureka o'hara#alexis michelle#sashea#fluff#au#high school au#gabe#m/m au#submission#tw ableist language#sixteen
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Morning Pages #44 (23.03.2017)
Thursday 23rd March - 10:30 p.m.
Thursdays are always going to be rather draining for me, with the 6 a.m. start and the fact that my last lecture is two hours long, from 3:15 till 5:15. I tried catching the tram home today because I thought it would be faster, and ended up walking all the way to Bourke Street to do so. When I got there though, the trams were far too packed for me to deal with and I was starving, mind you. I didn’t have the energy to stand up like that, and I really wanted to finish ‘The Member of the Wedding’ before Evan comes over tonight, because he’s supposed to come over within the next hour. I wanted to be able to give the book back to his dad, because honestly I would like some more recommendations. I’ve finished the book now, and thought it was adorable, and kind of relatable. The way Frankie feels about her town is the way that I feel about Mill Park, and my being in Northcote very much feels like an escape from my real life. I didn’t understand why she thought her only way out was to latch onto her brother’s marriage though, because it didn’t sound like she was too close to her brother to begin with. I do understand the feeling of having no ‘we’ though; possessing no sense of belonging or a limited sense of self can be painful and it’s usually teenagers who have to deal with that whilst they still possess the belief that they’re going through it alone. That’s what makes it worse, that dual loneliness. What’s ironic is that they’re both constructed isolations rather than actual ones.
Anyway, I finished the book and now I can start ‘Treasure Island’ (or continue with it, I guess) OR I can get started on the ‘East of Eden’ letters and go out and finally buy myself a copy of the book too. Honestly though, I feel like I should read ‘Treasure Island’ first, just because it’s been a long time coming with that book too, and I have kind of already started it. But Evan got me the ‘East of Eden’ letters so I feel like I shouldn’t put it off. I don’t know! I also have a fuckton of uni work too, I mean who has time for pleasure reading during the semester anymore? I’m conscious of the fact that I’ve had a new book with me every week so far, and I do like the idea of maintaining that streak, but I just don’t know if I have the luxury of time to do that. I have to rewrite my news story because we were given some pretty wholesome feedback today and I realised that my entire story angle is seriously flawed. I went from 749 words to about 400 words today, but hopefully I can just cut and paste portions of the first draft into my final draft. I also need to write some sort of report on radio dramas, and write up my pitch for next Monday. I also have to research my Sustainable Development midterm essay, and my Stakeholder Assessment Map. What a ridiculous assessment task! I really hope that I can just get away with hand-drawing a chart because I honestly don’t want to have to deal with computer mapping. Excel and digital graph-making, anything like that. I’m not very great with it, and I thought I’d seen the end of it last year with the charts I had to make for Greening Landscapes.
Also, for the past few days I’ve been really tempted to buy some crop tops from asos, because they’re on clearance right now and they’re like five or six dollars each, and also I only just realised that my body is kind of pretty sweet right now. I’m wearing my FILA bra and my camo pants and I feel really good about myself. My hair is finally looking like itself again, I mean since I shaved it. It’s growing back thick and glossy and full of character and I love it. But that’s not the point. My point is that I want to add to my wardrobe, primarily clothes that I’ll feel comfortable going out in. I want to look really good for Evan too, I mean whenever I can. I want him to be able to show me off, I want him to feel lucky to have me. I just feel so lucky to have him. I was talking to Malith about this when he came over, about the fact that we both think we’re with people who are so together and good for us, because we are relatively not together in comparison. I don’t know why I’m talking about this right now! I was supposed to be talking about cute, cheap crop tops! I am growing increasingly tempted by it all, but that’s only if I can summon the dumb courage to spend the money. I’ve spent like three hundred dollars this month alone, which is not ideal. I only have about $1300 to live off of for the rest of this year, or until I get a job. I’m aiming to get a job after this semester, I think. I’ve been handing out my resume though, although it’s been rather sporadically. I’m more focused on getting through this semester academically-speaking, yes. The work is beginning to pile up. I think it also might be because I’m getting my period - or I should be getting my period soon - but I had absolutely no focus today. My head was all over the place, and I was painfully inarticulate in both of my tutorials. That and it might be my honeymoon brain too. It’s a likely combination of the two. I bought pads today just in case, because Clue says my period is supposed to come either tomorrow or the day after tomorrow, that is if it’s managed to stay on the 28-day cycle I was on back when I was taking the pill. It probably hasn’t though. I don’t think I’m pregnant though, even though Evan can sometimes be a little sloppy with his hands. I mean he’ll grab his dick then finger me or something, or maybe I’m just paranoid that he does that, but I’ve seen him grab his dick before sex and it makes me a little bit nervous. I don’t know why I’m talking about this.
I’m rambling. I just want to finish these pages before he comes over. It’s nearly 10 to 11 and he’s supposed to be here around 11. I was really tempted to go to his game tonight too, but I got home at like half past seven in the evening. Yes, it took me two hours to get home today. I’m not entirely sure why either! I didn’t feel like an hour and a half had passed between the end of the lecture and my being on the platform at Flinders Street. I did walk all the way to Flinders from uni, and I did stop at Bourke Street and also along Swanston Street at this Subway store where a man had collapsed. I stood there for a while in mute concern for this man, as a whole bunch of other people actually did something about it. I just didn’t want to leave until I knew he’d be okay, even if I could do nothing to help him. But then I realised that that was selfish of me, to stay in the way whilst he was being helped, or whilst other people who were more equipped to help him, were trying to help him. What was disconcerting to me was the fact that some people walked past without even realising a man had collapsed. I understand people who did double-takes or people who registered what was going on and walked ahead stony-faced, because the city can be a very isolating environment. But there were actually people who didn’t even notice, who were so caught up in the hustle and bustle that they didn’t even realise a fellow man was in peril.
So Evan’s over right now. He’s sitting on the floor at Emily’s place, petting what was a very affectionate Romulus. Romy was hiding under the bed for the past couple of hours because I had vacuumed today. I think I might wrap it up prematurely maybe, just because I am very conscious of this adorable dude sitting in front of me right now. He’s grinning over my laptop, because I may have just revealed that these pages are somewhat confidential. Okay, so he’s gone into the bedroom now because I was noticeably distracted by him. Okay, I’m going to finish this last page in record time because I want to spend time with him because he’s a sweetheart. Oh man I am disgusting. This is diabetes-inducing, honestly.
I had two twix bars today, because they were on special at Foodworks at Union House, one bar for $1.50. I have $3.10 in change so I said ‘fuck it’ and decided to treat myself, because I felt like chocolate. I have two mandarins and an apple and two twix bars for lunch, and oats in the morning. I had the rest of Evan’s curry for dinner with some of ammi’s rice. I messaged Lauren to see if she would eat the eggs, but she said she wouldn’t, which is a damn shame because I was looking forward to cooking for her for a change. But it’s also fine because at least I’m not feeding her something that goes against her principles. Evan just sneezed. I really want to be over and done with this page. I’m listening to Childish Gambino, 3005 but the Part Two version, the slower version. It’s nice but I’m kind of over this song, which is understandable I mean it’s like four or so years old now and even the original gets rather repetitive. I’m into Sober right now, because I recently showed Evan the music video for that song. I really just want to be over and done with these pages! He’s here! I want to just hug him and kiss him and ugh ugh ugh I really can’t wait, I really can’t wait to be done with these pages. This is actually ridiculous, but I need some discipline, I mean I have to get back into this. I didn’t write for TEN DAYS. That is inexcusable.
Okay, so I feel like I’m nearing the end of this! I scrolled down as much as I can and I can finally see the end of this blasted final page, so I’m feeling rather good right now. My hands are typing almost at a rabbit’s pace, fuck I just realised I paused here trying to describe how fast my hands are typing. These pages are useful in securing the discipline of writing every day, yes, but if I’m writing nothing of substance would this discipline still translate? I feel like maybe with time, these pages will start holding actual ‘flourished’ sentences. Bri said that on Facebook today, and I thought it was cute. She was talking about getting into writing, by taking a writing class or something. She’s doing a fair bit of dabbling, which is neat. I’ve been meaning to return to some drawing in my free time. I had the courage to show Isaac the drawing I did of him, and he said he liked it, even though it was rather basic. I don’t know what he thinks of me anymore, if he ever thinks fond thoughts of me. I don’t know, I just like the idea of him doing that, but I know I don’t want anything romantic with him. He’s a bit odd, and he’s been growing increasingly odd the longer I’ve known him. Sad and odd, and alone. I don’t know if he feels lonely, but I have a strong suspicion that he does, and he uses work as a vice even though work is the reason he mostly finds himself alone. His transience is also inhibiting him from securing a sense of belonging; in lieu of that belonging, he has boundless ambition. I know that he’s going to end up relocating to New York or something.
Okay I’m on the fourth page now so I’m going to go. See you bitches tomorrow, I’m going to go hang with my baby.
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