actually i am majoring in philosophy

private tutor | part one

request from anon: Can I request a namjoon in college!au? It can be about anything! Maybe a tutor? Thanks and I love your writing!!

Originally posted by yoonkooks

[Namjoon x Reader]

Genre: College!au, Humor

Words: 3535

—> “I am brilliant, thank you very much. But if you don’t have a form of payment, I’m afraid I will have to decline your proposal.” You fall to your knees, hands clasped together, “Please, Namjoon; I’m willing to do anything.” The last word causes him to look away from his book and down at you, taking in your rather pathetic self. A smirk stretches across his lips, “Anything?”

A/N: Joonie can tutor me any day ;) hope you guys like this part one/intro of this series (i’m thinking three parts?)! xoxo

Well, this is awkward.

Keep reading

superfans of tsoa who think that the whole iliad is patrochilles-centred make me wanna rip my eyes out.
like dude.
we are talking about a masterpiece composed centuries ago, dealing with the major themes of all history, born in Greece which is the motherland of philosophy and all the modern way of thinking, governing and living
I tell you, I’ve been studying ancient greek and Greek literature for years. I am definitely not gonna deny the relationship between achilles and patroclus (it even has a name in Greek, it’s called pederasty and it’s not the only one), I ship them very much, but really, there’s a lot more than catches the eye in that book.
honestly talking, if you wanna fangirl over some gay couples, that’s alright. but please, don’t take the fucking iliad as a fanfiction written for teenagers.


Hi everyone, I’m R.
I’m finally taking the time to introduce myself, while I’m on this short Hiatus.

I’m a university student in Florida. I am starting my sophomore year in fall of 2017. I am a Biology major, focusing on a concentration in Marine Sciences. I might, if I transfer to the main branch of my university, minor in Philosophy.

And that’s about all there is to me!
Thanks for reading and checking out my blog!

10 Things a Psychology Major is tired of hearing

1. “Are you going to analyse me?" 

Yes. If you pay me R800 ($72) an hour. 

2. They start telling you about their problems.

There’s it.

3. "I could never listen to people’s problems all day.”

Duh. That’s why I’m going to do it, and you’re going to sit in your office all day. By yourself. 

4. “So, seeing as I know you, can I get free therapy one day?”

Oh fat chance. Ethics say uuuuuhhhhhm NOPE. And so do I. :D

5. “I wish I had a major as easy as Psychology.”

I’m sorry how long is your degree? Oh? Four years? Yeah well I can’t practice without a masters degree and a year of internship. So make that a full six to seven years. You were saying? Also, here. Take my cognitive psych textbook for some light reading before bed. 

6. “Oh! You’re studying psychology! Can you read my mind? What am I thinking?" 

Hang on, let me just summon my crystal ball and tarot cards, then we can begin. 

7. "You’re a psych major? I better watch what I say.”

Or what? I’ll diagnose you as cray-cray?

8. “But psychology isn’t a real science.”

Actually, screw this. I’m leaving. 

And BTW it is. Anything that follows a scientific method is a science. And guess what, if it stems from biology, it came from chemistry and physics. Do you know where chemistry and physics come from? Maths. Which came from philosophy. So meh. 

9. “Who needs a psychologist if you’ve got good friends?”

No. Just don’t say this. You will get owned. Don’t ask questions. Don’t bring up the topic again. You don’t get it. 

10. “Writing essays can’t be that bad?”

GAH. Try doing all the research and finding all the resources AND referencing correctly. AND bringing your point across. All in 1800 words. Right. Essays are easy. 

So the next time you ask a psych major any of these questions, just remember that we’re all human. Cut us some slack too! :P

Hahaha just a bit of a disclaimer: I know all other college majors can also make a list like this, as there are many stereotypes that apply to all the subjects, but I just needed to make this one.  


Modern *college*  Murven Imagine -

~Requested: Hiii. Can you please write a little raven x Murphy. Like I ship them a lot and if you could write anything about them two romantically that would make me really happy. Please🙈~

Walk of Shame

Sundays suck. Everything about them is ungodly awful. The impending doom of the upcoming week sinks into your soul as you bullshit all the homework you procrastinated on doing over the weekend. Whoever told you Mondays were to be abhorred lied to you. It’s Sundays that you should groan at.

Amongst the college students wallowing in their own procrastination, there are those who have just recently awoken and are stumbling across campus with knots in their hair and the scent of somebody else on their skin. 

Raven Reyes, gifted mechanical engineering student, belongs to the group making their way back to their own dorm this oh-so-wonderful Sunday afternoon. She squints her eyes and grunts in irritation at the sun that shines so brightly it seems to be mocking her. 

She was supposed to meet with a boy in her history class last night to review the key materials for the upcoming test, and while they did meet up, predictably, there was no studying. A few shots to make the studying bearable and the lingering resentment of a cheating ex boyfriend led to a review of anatomy and reproduction as opposed to the ancient greeks. 

In the midst of cursing herself for getting stuck with a dorm on the other of campus, a boy, presumably on his own walk of shame, clumsily bumps into her. Both of their bags fall to the ground and the contents scatter themselves about the lawn.

“Are you fucking kidding me,” Raven mumbles irritably as she bends down to pick up her astray belongings. 

The boy simply snorts laughter, reaching for his own stuff.

“You’re not even going to apologize? Really, dick?” she kicks at his ankles, causing him to fall back onto his butt.

He can’t shake the amused expression as her brown eyes bore into his green ones.

“You look like hell,” he notes matter-of-factly.

“Hate to break it to ya, but you don’t look any better,” she eyes his messy tresses. 

“Really? I thought bedhead was a good look for me,” he shrugs, reaching for the camera lens that fell out of his bag, “you on the other hand? Not so much.”

“Says the pervert who brought a camera to his hookup last night,” she nods to the lens in his hand.

“Fuck off, I’m a film major. I always have a camera and extra lens on me,” he scowls.

“I really don’t care either way,” she gets up and begins her voyage to south campus.

“I mean I guess if you don’t want your calc 3 text book I can keep it. Sell it next semester,” he yells after her, waving the book in his hand, a smug smile plastered on his face.

She lets a string of expletives slip out of her lips as she stomps back over to him, snatching the open book out of his hands the moment she’s within reach.

“You actually wrote your name on the inside cover, Raven Reyes?” he laughs.

“This book is like $200!” she snaps in exasperation, “If I were to lose it I’d want someone to be able to find me to give it back.”

“Okay,” he continues to laugh.

“You would shit your pants at the material in this book, camera boy” she grumbles, shoving it back into her bag.

“Camera boy? Really? That’s lame. No wonder you’re into math. Your creativity is nonexistent,” he teases.

“It’s not like I know your name,” she rolls her eyes.

“John. But everyone calls me Murphy.”

“Goodbye, Murphy,” she huffs, turning her back on him to walk away.


Philosophy- a mechanical engineer’s worst nightmare and unfortunately a class required for all students to take. Thinking about thinking only gives Raven a major headache, and occasionally an existential crisis. 

Philosophy is abstract, while mechanics are concrete. For every situation there if a formula and for every formula there is a solution. Every time. But with philosophy there is no definite, there is no one right answer. And it drives her absolutely insane.

“Hey math genius, so tell me, what are the odds that we have wound up in the same philosophy class?” A familiar voice resonates from the seat beside her.

“Apparently, not great enough,” she sighs in disdain.

“I was expecting you to whip out some formula and give me an actual answer. How disappointing,” he muses.

“I was expecting to never see you again. How disappointing,” she echoes.

Murphy rolls his eyes, choosing not to respond to her comment as the professor begins to lecture.


“Your grades from the last exam have been posted online. That is all for today,” the professor dismisses.

Raven switches tabs to click on her student account, her heart racing in anticipation. She is a perfectionist to put it lightly. She has always been the best and everything has always come naturally to her. Except for philosophy.


She curses under her breath. A 72 technically isn’t awful, but by her standards she might as well have failed the test. A 72 is unacceptable for someone as smart as her. 

She sneaks a sideways glance at Murphy’s screen and it takes all the restraint in her body to keep her jaw from hitting the floor.


“How in the hell,” she whispers mostly to herself.

“Impressed?” Murphy smirks at her comment, “What’d you get?”

“Don’t worry about it,” she slams her screen shut, packing her stuff up hastily.

“That bad, huh?” he chuckles.

“In general, no. For me? Yes.”

“This is probably good for you,” Murphy states nonchalantly.

“Excuse me,” Raven snaps, narrowing her eyes.

“It might help you get over yourself. Not all of us are math whizzes and you’re not any smarter than the rest of us just because you are. Sucking at philosophy might be a humbling experience for you,” he retorts, turning away from her. 

Raven stands there, too taken aback to form a response. Nobody has ever spoken to her like that before. The feeling of belittlement makes her stomach churn in nausea. This isn’t her. She’s always the one with the right to belittle. Except this time she isn’t.


Water is usually a symbol of the state of calmness. A relaxing aura radiates off of the running water, providing a serene retreat to those on the verge of a mental breakdown induced by challenging coursework. 

Raven sits at her usual spot beside the fountain, flipping through her philosophy textbook mumbling obscenities. For the life of her she cannot wrap her brain around this stuff. Going from knowing how to do everything to perfection to knowing nothing at all is the most frustrating thing. 

She slams the book shut, inching it towards the swirling water. She may not be able to run from her problems, but she sure as hell can try to drown them.

“Whoa, what’re you doing? You have this crazy look in your eyes,” John Mbege catches the book before it falls to its demise.

She’s seen Mbege around campus enough times to be friendly enough to chat for brief periods of time. He works at the campus coffee shop, and he’s the only one who can ever seem to get her order right, so naturally, she is vaguely fond of him.

“Just walk away, Mbege,” she sighs, “Pretend you never saw anything.”

“Wouldn’t that make me an accessory to a crime?” he widens his eyes in faux horror.

“You really should have majored in drama,” she laughs tiredly.

“Philosophy kicking your ass huh?” he tilts the book to inspect it casually.

“Enough for me to commit philosophical homicide,” she deadpans.

“Maybe you should have majored in drama,” Mbege quirks and eyebrow.

“Haha,” she rolls her eyes, “Unless you have the solution to all my problems, leave me to wallow in my own despair.”

“Actually, my roommate is really good at philosophy,” Mbege informs.

Raven scoffs, “I am not going to beg some stranger for help.”

“Oh my god just swallow your pride and stop by. A smart person knows when to ask for help. Don’t be stupid,” Mbege gets up and leaves his offer trailing behind him.


In spite of herself, Raven finds herself standing in front of Mbege’s door. Her knuckles rest against the door lightly, not being able to bring herself to make a knocking motion.

Suddenly the door opens, saving her the trouble. Mbege and Murphy stand in the doorway, surprised by her presence.

“Stalking me now?” Murphy raises an eyebrow in question, his expression quizzical.

“What are you doing here?” she replies in shock.

“I live here,” Murphy scowls, “What are you doing here?”

“Mbege told me… Oh… Oh… Oh god,” she groans, digging her palm into her temple. 

“You two know each other?” Mbege interjects, slightly amused.

“Barely,” Raven pouts.

“Well, you two play nice. I won’t be back until morning. Don’t kill each other,” Mbege slips past them down the hallway.

Murphy smirks, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe and crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Forget it,” Raven turns to walk away.

“Oh c’mon,” Murphy grabs her arm, “You know I’m good at philosophy. I can help you.”

“I don’t want your help,” she jerks her arm, his grip doesn’t waver.

“Get over yourself. I know you can do quantum physics in your sleep. I’m not going to make you feel inferior,” his voice softens a bit.

“Like you did earlier today?” she grimaces.

“You deserved that,” he points out, “But I’ll be nice if you will.”

“I doubt that.”

“Why don’t you come in and find out,” he steps aside, motioning for her to follow him inside the dorm.

Against her better judgement, she does.


Much to her surprise, he is being nice. Well, Murphy’s version of nice. Asshole is just his personality type, but not necessarily in a bad way. He uses it as a defense mechanism, a technique Raven knows all too well. Maybe he isn’t so bad after all. Maybe he’s a little bit like her.

“See, you’re doing better already,” Murphy nods encouragingly. 

“Of course I am. I’m brilliant,” she smiles brightly.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re welcome,” Murphy chuckles.

“Thank you,” she says.

“Whoa, how’d those words taste coming out of your mouth?” Murphy grins.

“Acidic,” she laughs, “Don’t make me regret saying it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Murphy gets up off the floor, retrieving a water bottle from the fridge.

She notices a picture on the desk next to the fridge, it’s of a young boy sitting on his father’s lap. They’re both smiling. They look happy.

“Is that your dad?” Raven asks, motioning to the picture.

“Uh.. yeah,” Murphy replies awkwardly, not meeting her eyes.

“Are you close with him?” she continues.

“… I was,” he finally replies after a few seconds delay.

“Oh god,” Raven brings her hand to her mouth, “He’s uh… He’s…”

“Yeah. He is,” Murphy affirms.

“I don’t know my father,” she blurts out, unsure of why she’s telling him this.

“What about your mom?” he plays with the bottle in his hands.

“I wish I didn’t know her.”

Murphy nods his head in understanding.

An awkward silence hangs between them now. The wanting to know more, but not wanting to pry. The wanting to confess all of the horrible things that play in their minds, but being too afraid to say them out loud.

“My mom… she’s dead, too,” Murphy says quietly, still looking down.

“What happened?” Raven whispers, feeling uncharacteristically sympathetic. 

“When I was 15 I contracted this virus that put me in the hospital. It was pretty bad,they had me hooked up to all these IV’s and god knows what. My dad was away on business when I first got admitted and the night he got back it was storming. Like tsunami level type shit. My mom told him to wait to come up to the hospital until the next morning. But he didn’t want to wait. He wanted to see me. He got into an accident on the way to the hospital. And he died from the injuries. He died because he was coming to see me,” he clears his throat.


He ignores her and continues, “My mom blamed me. He died because of me. If I wasn’t in the hospital he wouldn’t have been on the road that night. She became an alcoholic afterwards and drank herself to death. I saw her die, lying in her own vomit. The last thing she said to me was that I was monster. That I killed my father,” his eyes glaze over, “I guess I killed her, too. I killed my parents.”

“Hey, John,” she walks over to him, placing her hand on his shoulder.

“I’m a monster,” he whispers, turning away from her.

“John,” she walks in front of him, placing one hand on his cheek, the other on his shoulder, “You’re not a monster.”

He shakes his head, tears welling up in his eyes, but not spilling over.

“You’re not,” she repeats, brushing her thumb over his cheekbone. 

“I don’t know why I told you that,” he grimaces.

“It’s okay, I understand. I understand. My mom didn’t want me, she never took care of me. And apparently neither did my father. I’m not saying I know exactly how you feel because I don’t, but I know how it is to feel alone, to feel like everything you do isn’t good enough,” she trips over her words.

“We’re a mess,” he laughs humorlessly. 

“We can be messes together,” she smiles at him.

“Is it bad that I’m glad you suck at philosophy?” he asks.

“And why would you be glad about that?” she tilts her head.

“It’s what got us here.”

“Then thank god I’m not as perfect as I like to pretend to be,” she laughs, pressing her lips against his.

He jumps a little bit in surprise, but pulls her closer, his arms twisting around her torso. She reaches her one arm to play with the hair at the back of his neck while the other slides across his cheek and then down his neck. 

He bunches the hem of her shirt in his hand, letting his arm brush against the exposed skin. She shivers at the contact, biting down lightly on his lip. His hand slide up her back, slipping under the band of her bra.

She yanks at the hem of his shirt, tugging it upward and over his head. 

“Well this is fitting,” he mumbles against her lips.

“What do you mean?” she pulls away in confusion.

“We met on a walk of shame. We’ve officially come full circle,” he laughs.

“Oh my god, shut up,” she stifles laughter.

“Make me,” he challenges.

“With pleasure,” she pushes him back, making him fall back onto the futon.

She straddles his waist, letting her finger nails lightly scratch at his skin as they trail down his pale torso. He smiles sleepily, knotting his fingers in her hair, pulling her lips back to his. 

Full circle indeed. 

*Not my gifs*

Let’s see if I get to win… being the terrible men-hating feminist I am and all.


Demands free birth control: The only one of these things that applies to me, 100%. Then again, I live in one of those ‘socialist’ European countries where all health care is free, including birth control. Every Republican’s worst nightmare, I guess.

Breasts are not sexual”: Well, they’re not… at least not always. For example, breastfeeding (even in public) isn’t about getting anyone off, it is about not letting your baby starve. And I can’t really take people seriously who find that offensive. God dammit, they’re just fat… get over it.

Expresses interest in Women’s Studies: As a feminist and activist, I thought that was a given. I’d like to learn more about things I am interested in, that includes gender studies, philosophy, literature, dance, physics, mythology, languages, journalism, politics, art, etc etc etc. Does that mean I will major in Women’s Studies at any point of my life? No. But I will take at least one class some time in the future, so I actually know what I’m talking about. Ignorance = bad.

Patriarchy: I wasn’t sure if I should even add this, but I do use that word from time to time… more as an umbrella term for women’s issues than as the actual 'men rule, women are oppressed’ social model. I dislike the word, seeing as we don’t live in an actual patriarchal society anymore (we probably did when first wave feminists adopted the term though). Saying 'Smash the patriarchy!’ just has a much nicer ring to it than saying 'Let’s work on getting rid of all the slut-shaming and victim-blaming and objectification and misogyny and oppressive constructed gender roles!” But it is outdated.

I’m wearing this for me!”: Guess what, sometimes I do. I like looking pretty, it makes me feel good about myself. At other times, I’m wearing things for my girlfriends, either to show off and maybe make them a little jealous or just to keep up and not be the ugly one in the group. Or for my boyfriend because I think he deserves a beautiful girlfriend. Sometimes it’s for other people’s attention, sometimes it’s just for me. Neither of those things make me a bad person/feminist or superficial… at least not more than anyone else.

Has never worked a manual labor job or a job that is in any way dirty or unpleasant: I was professionally involved in the performing arts for quite awhile, which doesn’t sound too unpleasant, but it comes with pretty bad bruises, lots of bleeding toes, and broken bones every few months. So physical work, yes. Dirty and unpleasant… most people would say no, but then again they only see what happens during the performances.

Claims pornography objectifies women: Not only women, and not all pornography. To me, there is a clear case of objectification going on when the actors’/actresses’ physical well-being is disregarded just to film some more extreme scenes. Much like BDSM, keep it sane, safe, and consensual and we’re good.

The dictionary says feminism means EQUALITY!”: Yes, it does. And ideally, that is what feminists should work on. Too bad so many (I’m looking at you, radfems.) don’t actually fight for it.

Awh dammit… I ALMOST made it.

I’ll comment on the rest of the bingo too, but I disagree with that stuff anyway, so you probably won’t want to read it. Oh, and I am a little disappointed they left out some of the particularly irritating radfem bs here… such as:

  • trans-women are spies
  • trans-men are traitors
  • MRAs are the enemy
  • women can’t rape
  • men can’t be raped
  • etc.


Stare rape”: Nope, fuck you. Calling some creep looking at your boobs 'rape’ trivialises one of the most traumatic experiences a person can make. It is insulting to survivors, and if you do that, I will cut you.

Women earn less on the dollar”: Awh, the wage gap myth… short: There is an income gap. It’s pretty easily explainable when you know that women work less hours on average and go into more social and less physical and dangerous professions, and ask for promotions much less frequently. There is a problem that needs fixing here, but it’s not that we get paid less money for doing the same job.

No uterus, no opinion”: First of all, this is incredibly sexist towards trans* folks. Even if you don’t think men should have a say in women’s issues, at least include trans* women. Also… men are perfectly capable of rational thought, and your arguments aren’t any better just because you’re a girl. Oppression points don’t make your opinion more important, stop being a sexist dick.

Refuses to shave anything: Do what you want with your body. But don’t shame anyone because they’re less hairy than you. That doesn’t make them a bad feminist or a slave of patriarchy ;)

Internalised misogyny.”: Uhm… did that girl just say 'All women are stupid and useless and men are biologically superior and we shouldn’t be allowed to work or vote!’? No? Then don’t say she internalised misogyny. Especially if all she did was question tumblr feminism.

Opposes use of tampons or pads: Again, do what you want with your body. If you want to ruin your clothes, that’s fine with me… but do not sit on anything someone else owns, or be prepared to replace it and probably get slapped in the face.

Check your privilege.”: Yeah, do that. This goes to everyone btw, every group of people has privileges just because they’re part of that group (with the possible exception of trans* community, again :/). You live in a first world country? You’re a cis-man? Cis-woman? White? Heterosexual? Privilege… privilege everywhere, oh my are we all lucky.

Blames straight white men for not getting a job: I have never even heard of that. Might be a cultural thing.

Claims to be oppressed: Are women oppressed? I suppose. But so are men… gender roles are fucking oppressive to pretty much everyone.

Middle class North American: Nope. Former upper class European, now living well below minimum wage and too broke to afford food for the last 5 days of every month. Life’s nice.

Male tears.”: This is the most arrogant and dismissive reaction to men’s rights issues I have ever heard and if you say this, I don’t like you. How would you like being raped and finding out it isn’t recognised by law? Being way less likely to be granted custody after you split up with your ex just because you are male? Or even having no say in your kid getting adopted? Would any of that bother you in the least? Yes? Then stop saying the MRM isn’t needed.

Cishet.”: See 'Check your privilege’.

Claims videogames are sexist: I’m not enough of a gamer to really have an opinion on this. I suppose having a little more respect for the female gaming characters and not letting them fight monsters in metal bikinis wouldn’t hurt, but I’ll leave this to other feminists.

Objectifies men: I don’t, at least not in a way that I find problematic (as in doing things that, if done to women, would make me angry). But for the record, objectifying men is exactly as bad as doing it to women.

Brainwashed by patriarchy”: Is this 'Internalised misogyny – Part II?’

How can you be a housewife? You’re setting women back.”: I’d almost call this 'Internalised misogyny - Part III’, but I guess I should make something clear here: Traditional gender roles are social constructs no one should be forced to adhere to. That doesn’t mean that someone who chooses to live that way is holding anyone else back. Unless they run around telling women who work that they should be stay at home mums because work is for males only, that is.

Contradicts self: Well, I sure hope I don’t… but if I did, feel free to point it out since I obviously can’t see it myself.

a-wrinkle-in-space-time-deactiv  asked:

You know, sometimes I wonder if I am a really stereotypical INTP. I have a large interest in astrophysics and hope to pursue a career in it someday (if I can get past being too lazy to do anything in life, that is...). Science and philosophizing about the universe in bed at 5 am are what i'm best at. Also, to make things worse, classical music is my favorite. What are your thoughts on the 'INTP stereotype', and how much do you think you fit in it?

Okay so this is a really good question and I’m glad you sort of broke it down into two parts because this is probably going to be long-ish.

First, my thoughts on the INTP stereotype(s). Stereotypes, as a function of what they are, reduce a thing to a token example. Even in cases such as the “INTPs love science” stereotype where they aren’t offensive they over-simplify which leads to confusion. Mbti stereotypes in particular often result in mistypings and bias against certain types. 

As far as the most prevalent INTP stereotypes go I can see where people get them from and I find them amusing, it’s just important to make clear to mbti novices that fitting the stereotype is not what makes someone that type. If the stereotypes are used in a joking matter that’s cool I mean for me at least mbti is a hobby and hobbies are supposed to be entertaining. If stereotypes are used to educate people on mbti then there needs to be a discussion of why INTPs are likely to enjoy science (analytical nature, natural proclivity for dealing with abstract ideas, etc) or whatever the stereotype it is so that people can understand the system behind mbti rather than just caricatures of types.

Alright now for how the INTP stereotype applies to me. (and I’m transitioning to bullet points because I can)

Ways it applies:

  • I like science, not quite enough to seek a career or major in anything scientific, but enough to take biology a second (and possibly third, we’ll see) time just for fun and collect Scientific American issues like taxidermy animals collect dust. 
  • I like philosophy as well and I actually am considering majoring in it.
  • High IQ
  • Relationships or really even interactions with other human beings are not exactly my strong suit.
  • Just look at the writing style of this post, seriously.
  • Sometimes I am a bit pedantic; the phrase “well, actually” has been used in impressions/mockery of me several times.
  • I do the INTP chameleon thing and anytime I am praised for uncharacteristic social skills I respond “Acting!” and go back to being myself.
  • Luna Lovegood is somewhere between what I am and what I aspire to be.

Ways I’m not stereotypical:

  • I’m fairly creative/artistic.
  • I’m not a guy and I don’t live in my parents’ basement (first floor, ha!).
  • The physical world isn’t like some mysterious thing to me, I’m usually aware of pretty detailed aspects of my surroundings. I even like to enjoy the outdoors on occasion. When I’m lost in thought I’m completely unaware though.
  • Most NTs seem to be cat people, but I’m a dog person (although being allergic to cats makes me just a hair biased (and yes that was a subtle pun)).
  • I’m not a mysterious loner or anything, although I kind of wish I was. In fact when I’m nervous and with people who I sort of know I get sort of chatty and over-share-y.
  • I laugh at anything that is even like .0001% funny, which produces a fair amount of self-loathing.
  • My Si is pretty strong considering my age and type. This isn’t always a good thing, I can get pretty resistant to change.

part one

By the end of visiting hours, Dean was mentally exhausted. He had told Castiel about their life over and over, constantly reintroducing himself and who he was to Cas; who Cas was. He had to remind himself that he had taken vows, through thick and thin, sickness and in health. He wouldn’t abandon Castiel simply because he couldn’t remember anything.

“Maybe you should 50 First Date him,” Sam suggested later that evening over dinner at Dean’s favorite diner. He wasn’t sure if Sam was joking or not.

“Like Adam Sandler him?” Dean shook his head and took another bite of his burger. “No way,” he said after swallowing the large bite. “I won’t subject him to that trash.”

“No, man, like… Make him a video about your life that he can watch. Maybe it’ll jog his memory. Show him the house, show him your life together. You guys take all of those videos, put them in a larger one. Like that trip we had to the Grand Canyon last summer. Put those videos in there.” Sam stabbed his salad a few times, twirling his fork a little as he thought out loud. “Or your wedding videos, the stupid home videos you guys take.”

“Hey,” Dean snapped, pointing his finger at Sam. “They’re not so stupid now that they could be useful… Just gotta make sure to keep the sexy ones out.”

Sam groaned and covered his face as if he were in pain. “Gross.”

Dean grinned. “What can I say, Cas has an exhibition complex.”

“Okay, dude, more than I needed to know… You going back tomorrow to see him?” Sam looked at him curiously. “I mean I know you were getting tired before, seeing him in a coma all the time, but he’s awake now.”

“Yeah… But it’s fucking exhausting telling him who I am every half hour,” Dean replied as his shoulders slumped. “He can’t even remember his own name. It’s really sad.”

“But he’s your husband,” Sam said quietly. “You promised you’d be there for him.”

“I know, Sammy, I know. I’m going back tomorrow.”

“I mean, imagine how he feels. You think you’re tired? Imagine waking up with no memory of anything. Not who you are, where you are, how you got there, the strange people around you…,” Sam gestured at him, “Imagine being him and seeing this strange man with you, telling you that he’s your husband, and then forgetting every thirty minutes. Just wiping your brain clean like a slate.”

Dean sighed and nodded. It was true; being in Castiel’s shoes had to be more terrifying than being in his. “You’re right.”

Sam pushed his plate aside once it was only remnants of dressing and small pieces of lettuce. “Not trying to say your issues aren’t relevant or important, just that he’s going through a lot too is all.”

“Yeah, I know.” Dean ran a hand down his face. “I’m just so fucking tired.”

“That’s understandable.” Sam nodded and reached over to grip his wrist for a moment. “Go home, get some rest. Maybe don’t go back tomorrow. Take a break. He won’t remember anyway.”

Dean flinched because Sam was right and he hated it.

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Hello everyone!~ ! have been stalking the studyblr community for a while now and just got the courage to create one this week.

My name is Kai and I am 18 yrs old. My major is Computer Science and I’m already a senior/in my last year of uni. The classes I’m taking this semester are programming, management elective, philosophy and theology. My interests are graphic design, literature, photography, and food.

I mainly made this blog to motivate myself to finally get my life together - to study with actual understanding, to be healthier physically and emotionally, to create more art, to make more meaningful interactions, and to grow as a person. So please help me and maybe I can help you too. :)

Here are some of the studyblrs that inspires me: @studyplants, @educatier, @thearialligraphyproject, @studywithininspo, tbhstudying, @academiix, @universi-tea, @ayetstudies, @obsidianstudy, @elkstudies, @areistotle

PS. If you have the same major (or near) as me, please please reblog so I can follow you! I’m seriously weak at coding and need all the help I can get haha.