-A pair of jocks came through my lane, eager to make their purchases of Yu-Gi-Oh decks. I can only hope that this was in preparation for a niche offshoot of chess boxing.
-A girl handed her grandmother a five-dollar bill to purchase something for her. After the purchase was made, the girl demanded her money back, as since the item was now bought, the grandmother has no need for it anymore. This has been the ultimate hustle and I am grateful to have been taking notes.
-After I asked a woman a question, she immediately became defensive. I am not sure if I went too far and overstepped the acceptable boundaries of cashier conversation. She stood there, suspicious wondering how I could ask such a question. I stood there, scanning, regretting asking how she was.
-A man called the store to ask permission to ride his hoverboard. He was denied, but I expect the kind of man who wishes to ride a hoverboard to do his shopping is not the kind of man to take no for an answer.
-A kid warned his mother not to eat her credit card. I did not see anything to cause this concern, but I trust he knows her better than I do.
-I was told by an elderly woman that she wished card readers would forcefully physically eject the cards onto the floor once they were done. I will now be paying a visit to the patent office.
-A college-aged man explained to me that the boxers he was purchasing were for emergencies. I understand him and appreciate his foresight.
-A woman’s shirt read “DICKS: Last Resort.” I cannot determine whether she is an overt abstinence-only Christian or an overt bisexual with a preference. Either way, I want this shirt.
-A sheriff came into the store with a serious look on his face. I was immediately filled with existential terror, anxiety, and nervous gas despite having never committed a crime in my life and also being white.
-Four college boys stumbled through my lane post-blaze. I know this as in the middle of his purchase, one stopped, blinked fervently, and loudly announced, “I just realized that there are four of us here!” They all laughed. One suggested investing in stocks. He handed me all of the cash in his wallet.
(Y/n) giggled as she walked out of the school. When she started high school, she expected it to suck, just like the movies. To her surprise, she loved it. Her day was always the same: Wake up, eat breakfast, have Sam and Dean drive her to school, go to her classes, get picked up by her brother, go home, do homework, eat dinner, study lore, and go to sleep after pestering her brothers to do the same. She didn’t mind the routine, but as of recently, that had changed.
Lately, (Y/n) had been telling her brothers that she had to stay after school. Every time they had asked her what she had been doing, she would have just responded with, “I’m part of a study group. We help each other with homework and sometimes, we even tutor lower classmen.” She had the brightest smile on her face, her dimples popping out. (Y/n) was always so convincing, and she was so compassionate, so they had believed her.
Jay laughed as he drove down to the road to the ice rink. Captain of the hockey team he was. He had full access to the ice, even after hours. He looked over at (Y/n). She had been singing some kind of classic rock song. Of course she knew it, she grew up around it. Jay had been the happiest he had ever been with her, and nothing would ever change that.
Soon enough, the couple had pulled up to the ice rink. Jay quickly got out and opened the door for the female sitting in the passenger seat with a wide smile.
(Y/n) wore a smirk as she grabbed his hand and got out of the car. “Always a gentleman,” she teased.
“Anything for my girl,” he grinned, kissing her cheek.
(Y/n) shook her head with a stupid smile. She started running. “Last one in is a rotten egg!” She shouted.
Jay chased after her quickly. Once he had caught up to her, he wrapped his arms around her and spun her around, causing the girl to squeal and laugh loud.
The two teenagers had stayed longer than they had expected. They of course lost track of time, being two teenagers in love. They had spent their time skating around the ice, and even playing hockey… Well, it was more… Jay teaching (Y/n) how to play hockey.
(Y/n) tried to hit the puck into the goal again, but Jay had blocked it… Of course he blocked it. He was meant to play hockey. He did all his life, and now, he’s getting scholarships.
“Jay,” the girl whined, “This is impossible. You’re a pro at this. I’ve only just learned how this works!”
Jay laughed and skated over to her. He took off the glove and padding, but kept the helmet on. He grabbed her face between his two hands. “I’m sorry, doll,” he teased. “I know I’m not being fair.” He chuckled as she smiled back at her.
“I know how you can make up for it,” she teased.
“Oh yeah?” he questioned. “How can I do that? I’d do anything for my girl.”
(Y/n) grabbed the helmet and took it off of his head. She giggled at his messy hair and ruffled it before leaning into kiss him.
“I’m more than okay with this,” he chuckled, kissing her back.
Sam and Dean had been getting worried.
“Where is she?” Dean exclaimed.
“I don’t know, Dean!” he shot back. “She isn’t answering her phone!”
“Oh, God,” Dean panicked, “Sammy, what if something happened to her? Our baby sister could be getting tortured right now!”
Sam looked like a light bulb had gone over his head. He ran to his laptop and started to furiously type.
“What are you doing?” Dean asked his brother.
“While we were busy panicking, I forgot that her phone has a GPS in it,” Sam stated. After harshly hitting the “enter” button, he started to scroll. “I have an address, let’s go.”
Dean grabbed the keys to Baby and they both ran to the garage.
After around ten minutes of driving, they pulled up to the rink. The brothers had grabbed their guns and ran to the door. Soon enough, they burst through the door. What they had seen shocked them.
What was there? Two teenagers, on a blanket, on the ice, naked.
Jay and (Y/n) had jumped when they heard the door open. They quickly scrambled to get their clothes on. Once they did, they were both red messes.
“Sam, Dean!” The girl exclaimed, “What are you doing here? I told you I was staying out late, like I always do!”
“It’s eleven at night!” Dean exclaimed. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? You’re too young to be doing… This!”
Jay’s eyes were wide as he stuttered. “W-We were j-just–
“Save it Ken Doll!” Dean barked at the boy.
“(Y/n), let’s go,” Sam said, his voice stern, “We’re going home.”
(Y/n) nodded and looked down. She started walking towards her brother. She noticed Jay giving her a worried glance. “I’ll be fine,” she told him softly, “I’ll promise…”
Jay nodded and leaned over to kiss her cheek. “I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you,” she whispered back.
Jay nodded and walked over away from her to clean everything up, ignoring the harsh glare from Sam and Dean.
Soon enough, they Winchesters were in the Impala on their way home. The car ride was awkward and silent. (Y/n) knew that she was in a lot of trouble, so she didn’t say anything.
It wasn’t too long before they were back at the bunker. Dean slammed the door closed behind them. They all sat down.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Dean asked.
“It’s not that big of a –” she started, but she was interrupted by her second oldest brother.
“Not that big of a deal?” Sam questioned. “We thought someone took you, only to find out that you were having sex with some kid we didn’t know?” Sam scoffed. “Were you guys even being safe?”
“Of course we were!” (Y/n) shot back. “What, you think I’m stupid?” She asked. “You guys are so hypocritical. Stop acting that you guys weren’t doing stuff like this at my age, at least Dean was, and anyways, you guys go out to bars all the time and sleep with women you don’t know! At least I knew this guy! We’ve been dating for half a year,” she ranted.
“You’re grounded!” Dean yelled at her. “We will not be disrespected by you, and you will not be seeing that boy anymore outside of school! No more, ‘study group’ or ‘tutoring’ either!”
“That’s not fair!” she yelled back.
“You know that we can’t have connections like this!” Sam told her. “If you want to be a hunter, you have to learn that.”
“Well maybe I don’t want to be a hunter anymore,” she huffed. “I started tutoring and study groups because it looks on college applications and people actually pay attention to me,” she confessed.
“We give you a lot of attention,” Sam claimed.
“Really?” She retorted. “Because if you did, you would’ve seen my Class President posters that I used for my campaign. You also would’ve see that the day that I won, I came home wearing a t-shirt that said, ‘Student Body President!‘”
“Okay, we’re sorry that we didn’t notice, but you’re still grounded,” Dean said.
“You don’t get it, do you?” The girl asked.
“Get what?” Sam questioned back.
“I’m part of student council because it looks nice for colleges, I’m in study groups and I tutor for extra credit and because colleges love it. I want a normal job, a normal life. I want to earn my money, and I want to go to college. All this school stuff, Jay, and especially Jay are the things that make it possible for me to feel normal. They’re the closest thing I have to being normal until I graduate and leave Kansas, and you’re trying to take it away from me…” At this point, (Y/n) had tears in her eyes. Just as one fell, she sniffled and wiped it away before running to her room where she sobbed all night long.
Sam’s heart hurt. She wanted exactly what he wanted when he was younger. She grew up the way that he did. Her parents were absent from her life, she wanted to hunt but was never allowed to, and now she realized that hunting isn’t what she wanted. She had fallen in love and she was done for, she wanted that life.
“I am hypocritical… I wanted the same thing and I just tried to stop her from having it,” Sam stated in a sad tone. He rubbed his face in frustration. “I’m a terrible brother.”
Dean didn’t say anything. He just looked the the ground with sad eyes. To hear his baby sister cry was the worst thing ever. It made his heart wrench. “I’m going to bed,” he told Sam before heading to his room.
That night, it was hard for both of the brothers to sleep. It wasn’t until one in the morning that (Y/n)’s sobs stopped. They didn’t go in to talk to her. That would’ve made things worse, and that was the last thing they wanted. All they could do was wait for a later time to talk to her. It would be one hell of a wait.
Originally Published At waywardwrites.WordPress.com BY ME
You begin to realize that after this process you begin growing an attachment to Jungkook. You began to corrupt that he might hold the same feelings for you, to which he might but is there another longing body getting in the way of this?
Warning: Smut, possible daddy kink?,usage of weed Jungkook needa get his shit together honestly in this chapter, making a part 3 definitely cause i need to add to this hoe, oh and of course cussing sorry
Genre: Smut, slight angst
word count: 8.4K
A/N: To the anon who wanted me to make a part two i finally made it and am sorry it took so long. I know your request went along the liens of him coming to terms with his feelings which he sort of did but promise in the next chapter he will do just that. Again i deeply apologize
Growing an attachment to something especially when its being another human can be an exhilaration feeling yet a flesh eating one as well. The emotions that come from it leave you a dying hunger for more while it sucks you dry due to what its causing. In this case everything was connecting me to Jungkook.
Messing around with Jungkook had its perks and i certainly wasn’t aiming for this altercation to happen again but due to his charming ways he sucked me in like a cold leach. I had to admire his way of doing so, it was truly hypnotizing how he did it so effortlessly. I had told myself numerous of times that i wouldn’t fall for his bullshit yet here laid following after his every need.
I had been attending his football games more, leading to the head board hitting the wall as he gathered every thrust. I had grown an attachment to him and in a way he seemingly did to. He was often around me more than others. He showed a certain amount of care that I had never expected from him. It was reassuring at most but still had the nagging presence of him longing for another body besides mine. Just the simple thought of me thinking this made my stomach churn. I dont know why i felt such way as i promised myself I wouldn’t let it escalate this far but I couldn’t stay away from his trance, which irritated me to the point of insanity. I had tried to quit more than once as he always came to me with that bunny filled grin and his strong arms as he held me tight chasing away all the thoughts i once had.
Hi friends! This post is all about what I bought to get started teaching as a grad student. This was my big question after I accepted my offer to start my MA (yeah I know, I should have been looking for apartments and registering for classes). I think with 8 pieces or so, you have a good start that can make lots of outfits, whether you are TA-ing once a week or teaching your own class several times a week.
I suggest a nice work bag, 2 work shirts, a dress, a blazer, a pencil skirt, dress pants, and one pair of extremely comfortable work shoes. Sources here.
To extend these pieces, I mix my casual wear in with a couple of dressier pieces. I think t shirts and jeans can look classy, especially with a blazer.
I also tend to add in my more casual shoes, like sandals and boots. Though if you’re in the market for several pairs of teaching shoes, I think oxfords are so geeky and perfect for grad school.
If you’re getting ready to make the move to start teaching, I hope this list helps you start to make a workable wardrobe <3
Change the font: I complain about this at least every six months. It’s time. The font is so outdated, and is automatically associated with the WMYB-era, which we haven’t been in since 2010/2011. Sharpen it, make it better, make it more appealing.
Mature merchandise: I don’t want necklaces with the “the future Mrs. ____” on it. I, for the last time, do not want to sleep with or marry any member of 1D. I want practical things, because at this point, the majority of 1D’s fanbase when they come back are going to be old fans (late teens - early twenties [not to mention the adult 1D fans that are here currently]), and people who were drawn to 1D via their solo efforts.
I want socks with their (new and improved!) logo on them because college dorms, and kitchens, and offices get cold.
I want sweatshirts/shirts/posters that don’t look like neon and bright colors threw up on them. Give me merch with soft colors, and pastels, and monochrome. I like the colorful merch too, but not for every piece.
I want candles, please. You can name the candles after the boys if you want, idc. But give me stuff I, as an adult, can use in my everyday life, and still promote my boys, thanks.
Also a makeup line wouldn’t be awful but that’s probably pushing it
Don’t stop with vinyl
Also resell/re-release Midnight Memories on vinyl. That album was a turning point for a lot of current fans; it established a new era for 1D as they began to grow, and develop, and come into the artists they are now. Reselling that would be a really good move with regard to exposing a newer audience to the variety of sounds the members’ of 1D created while still in the band, as it’s a common misconception that 1D “grew up/got good” after departing.
I know a lot of these things will be addressed when they rebrand (PLEASE REBRAND AS A BAND), but as a fan who has been here for literal years, these are the things I personally would love to see. I recognize/understand the public perceptions of this band, and I know this fandom, and I know (or at least have an idea) of what would work for everyone (new and old fans). Anyway. That’s my future-1D screaming and dreaming for this month, tune in next time.
Hey, I heard that Undertale is getting a PS4 release. Your thoughts?
Well, I mean it’s about time honestly? Maybe people around my area will finally actually know what it is since it’ll possibly be in Gamestop–although I’m not looking forward to all the people bragging about how many monsters they’ve killed cause… the types of gamers over here are your real bad stereotypical CoD dudes that I try to avoid at all costs (hence why I keep my nerding real low to my group and only my group generally about all the games I play).
And I’m also not looking forward to people looking at my UT shirts or my laptop at college and going “Oh, YOU like that X game too?” (Replace X with good/bad.) Everyone who knows me offline knows my laptop is COVERED in official UT stickers–like to the point to where I coordinated their placement of who you encounter first along with the big-ol UNDERTALE logo right above it…
The reason I know no one here knows about it is cause, since its release, the (count them) 2 people who have said anything glanced at my laptop, looked away, IMMEDIATELY swiveled their head back and came over to say something–everyone else has yet to have that same recognition spark in their eye and posture.
I’m going to try and get the PS4 box-set, if only for the locket–His Theme makes me sob every time I hear it. I’m also curious how they’re going to do the game-shuts-off thing with Flowey? I don’t know how a console is going to be able to emulate that, but I trust Toby figured something out so that scene gives the same amount of kick.
Overall: I’m happy Undertale is coming to console and going to get more recognition for its greatness, and I REALLY hope it buffs the online community to be more active again… but I’m apprehensive because it might just open more doors to more bullying and harassment for enjoying a thing that’s Pacifist.
A/N: I literally just got done writing this, and I’m sorry since the ending isn’t that dramatic. I figured we could use a fluffy ending for this chapter.
After the boys got Y/n cleaned up, they slowly took her to a room next to Dean’s and laid her down on the bed. Sam grabbed the thick blanket folded up in the corner and placed it over. She passed out from all the crying, so they boys figured she could rest for awhile before trying to take another shower.
The boys felt awful after seeing Y/n like this. She was miserable. They wanted to find a way to help her cope with all this grief, but they knew she just needed time. Castiel stayed by Y/n’s bedside to help her heal, ever so gently carding his fingers through her hair. Dean went down to the armory to find a suitable gun for her. Dean thought he had a nice gun picked out for her until his eyes landed on beautifully engraved 9mm pistol. As soon as he saw it, he knew it was going to be a match. Sam got the all the lore set up for her in the Library. He was assuming she loved to read, since she worked at a Library. So he got out all of his favorite books over it, and plugged in his laptop. Ready to go over anything she wanted to know.
It didn’t take long for Y/n to raise from her deep slumber. When she awoke, she saw all three boys standing over her. Giving her a start, she grabbed her chest and threw her head back. Calming herself down. Dean and Sam sat on her bed helping her breathe. Telling her that it was just them, and everything is ok.
[a/n]: helllloooo!! decided i’d get one more thing out before classes start tomorrow :( i probably won’t post anything else until next weekend, but i’ll work on some writings do they’ll be ready to go by friday! if u have any requests send them my way (also any feedback would b nice) and i hope u like it!!!
pairing: min yoongi x reader
genre: fluff, college!au, frat boy!yoongi
word count: 367
summary: yoongi wakes up to you wearing his shirt and he just noticed how much he liked it. (and you)
Hi @taylorswift. I’m Darby. You probably don’t know me, but I’ve loved you since I was ten years old. I’m 19 now, and I started my sophomore year of college wearing a cat shirt & listening to Look What You Made Me Do 😊 I hope you know that I love you more than words, more than I love rain and chocolate and my cat (and that’s real love). I’m counting down the hours until reputation comes out - I can’t wait to hear your beautiful voice telling me stories again. I love you, I love you, I love you, and I hope I’ll get to tell you my whole story in person one day soon 😊❤️ also, just sayin - I’m gonna be back home this weekend if you or @taylornation wants to pop by for a visit 😝
Upon getting home for fall break today (also has the benefit of being my birthday weekend), the first thing my mother did was attempt to straighten my shirt.
Okay, the shirt was pretty wrinkled (okay, my entire appearance is a bit wrinkled – it’s been a busy semester, y’all, excuse me if I chose to just throw my hair in a messy braid and pull a baseball cap over it — I’ve reached the ultimate college aesthetic fam) but I am turning 21 this weekend (and I just drove for three hours). Can’t I have the option of looking wrinkled if I want?
Sterek #23 - Things you said to yourself in the mirror.
“Looking good tonight, Stilinski!” Stiles grins and points to his reflection in the mirror, running another hand through his hair to give it one more slightly artsy touseled look. This new hair wax thing is really giving him the look.
“Are you done in there? Some of us have to go to class!” Derek calls from outside the door.
Stiles sticks his tongue out at the door– not that his roommate can see him, anyways. It’s like the college experience is wasted on Derek; all Stiles has ever seen him do is study, study, study.
“What kind of class are you going to anyways at 9 PM, dude?”
“Astronomy,” Derek says. “We’re having a viewing party. There’s a meteor shower tonight. Which I don’t want to be late for and not get to help set up the telescopes, so hurry up.”
“Hey, perfection takes time,” Stiles calls out, turning back to his reflection and pointing finger guns at himself. He nods at his outfit– a slightly sheer gray t-shirt ripped artfully in a few places and tight black jeans.
He exits the bathroom, expecting Derek to snort or make some comment about the ‘perfection’ line, but Derek just kind of stares at him.
“What, is it too much?” Stiles asks. He scurries over to the full length mirror and turns around to check out his butt. The clerk at the store assured him that these jeans made him look “tantalizing,” whatever that means.
“I– ah– you– I don’t know.” Derek suddenly finds the floor incredibly fascinating.
So, I ended up going on the trip to Florida with my SD after all.
Overall it was a fantastic weekend. We stayed in a gorgeous Hilton Hotel right on the beach. I got my first ever spa treatments (a Swedish massage and deep sea full body scrub can work wonders). We also did a little shopping. I didn’t get much though. Mostly because the mall in town was pretty shitty and my SD hates shopping. But I picked him out some t-shirts from Hollister because he likes to feel young 😁, lol.
I received so many hateful stares from older women and some looks of amazement from some older men. Pretty amusing to say the least. It was a much needed escape from my reality. Coming back to college made me feel so sad. I miss being pampered 😔. But next semester’s tuition is paid so that’s all that matters.
He also mentioned planning another trip sometime. This time Costa Rica was an option, but I don’t have a passport so that was out. But I planning on getting one very soon. I gotta be prepared for these things!
I’d actually love to travel with him. We get along really well for the most part and he has a great personality. I finally feel like a real sugar baby. I’m only going up from here! Just be patient ladies, the right SD for you will come. Just keep shining. You’re a star ✨.
Dear Polished Stranger (From a Happy Working Mommy)
Dear Very Polished Stranger,
Let me tell you a secret … I am well aware that that my toddler is currently trying to drive a toy dump trunk into my cleavage while announcing, “Oh no! Truck stuck!”
You are right, though, that I didn’t notice the 2 pens in my hair … yes, or that binder clip the toddler found in my shirt. I’m sure there was a reason it was in there. I had copy-edits this week … and am drafting … and had teleconferences with Hollywood … also a toddler, a teen, and a kid in college. It’s been a chaotic week, and I think it’s only Wednesday. Honestly, though, we should be grateful that I’ve remembered to wear a shirt in the first place. I’m a little sleepy.
I will admit that juggling work & kids hasn’t made me look particularly model-like. (Neither did the years pre-kids & career when I partied, incidentally. The black circles under my eyes aren’t actually NEW.) You know what my kids & work HAVE made me? HAPPY even when I’m as tired as I look.
Yep. I’m kinda old to have such a wee mammal, but no, I’m NOT his grandmother. That teenager currently making faces at my toddler isn’t a teen dad. They’re both my kids. There’s a 3rd one at university (graduating after only 3 years with HIGHEST honours, btw.)
Yep. I can see why you think it’s a “little weird” to have a 21 year old, a teen, and toddler. I was pretty close to my daughter’s age when I started this mom gig.
No, it wasn’t an “oops.” Motherhood has been on purpose every damn time, too. I FOUGHT for these kids. I don’t have a body that grows babies well. Only one of the 3 grew in my body, so when I say it was a choice, I mean it was a difficult, expensive, and utterly exhausting fight to have all 3 of these kids in my life. I spent over $60k in legal fees for one of them. The hospital bills for one were in excess of $200k, and I didn’t know until afterwards if the insurance would cover it. Let’s not even start on the future tuition bills (do you know how expensive college is these days?), or the past clothes, lessons, and etc. Then there’s weird things. Teen is getting a pilot’s license. Daughter needed to move to Guatemala (among other places) for a few months for school.
It’s all my money though, and that’s what I choose to spend it on: being a mom. If it were your money, you could comment. It’s not.
Some people like designer clothes or shiny rocks on their fingers and ears… or cars … or who knows. I don’t get some (most) of that, but I don’t care what they do with their lives and money bc it’s none of my business. Me? I work to afford being a mom and to take trips. That’s my choice.
Some people hit an age where they stop wanting babies. I hear it will happen to me too, but … lately I’ve been thinking that maybe I’ll start fostering or adopting teens in a few years. That’s my current loose plan for the next adventure. I like being a mom. I like working too. I’m doing fairly decent at both so far. The eldest had scholarship for uni, and multiple fellowships for graduate school. The middle one is excelling in school and socially. The wee one overcame medical challenges. They’re all happy and want for absolutely nothing.
While we’re chatting, I want to politely point out that if you suggest again that my rather intense toddler is “lucky” I adopted him, I may have to smack you. I’m trying not to resort to violence or cussing because it would set a a bad example. Being a mom makes me a better person. It might be a fair note to say that you’re lucky I adopted him. Without him here in my arms, I would be demonstrating my skills with words that aren’t toddler-safe. I do get what you meant,but he’s no luckier than my other two kids. It’s hurtful to say that. I didn’t “rescue” any of them. It’s not a social service to be a mama. It’s my calling in life. I’m the lucky one.
I don’t judge you for your lack of kids. I promise you. I’d rather people who don’t want to be parents opt out. It’s better for you and potential kids. It’s a respectable choice. It’s perfectly cool not to want this. I even understand why it seems odd to want it somedays, but I’d like you to think about your attitude toward those of us who DO want it. I’d like you to think about why you see no issue with YOUR choice, but think it’s okay to judge mine.
Here’s the deal: finger paint is messy. Motherhood, in general, is messy. Writing is oddly messy. All of it is a bit exhausting when combined. It’s also exceedingly fun–and it hurts no one.
And if I’m okay with my choices and can afford them, why does it even matter to you? I’ll take the babies. You take the baubles. We’re both happier with this plan, and at the end, that’s what we ALL deserve in this world: happiness.
Happy Working Mom
PS I clean up pretty well, so feel free to come to one of my book events where I usually wear the clothes I don’t wear around the toddler. I’ll even cover some of the black circles under my eyes. Umm, no promises on the pens in my hair though.
Something which happened when @theseavoices and I got talking one day, and accidentally collaborated on a genderfluid Will thing where I ended up writing this and she ended up making the most incredible art (nsfw) and I died a little. So I blame her for this. And Hugh Dancy for being so inexcusably pretty when young. This was so much fun to do there could easily be more in the future….
This is 50% ridiculously enamoured Hannibal and 50% the most explicit filth I’ve ever written - you have been warned. If you’ve seen me posting about writing 1000 words on one blow job - this is that fic.
Rating: Explicit Words: 7,574 Tags: genderfluid Will, happy confident Will, age difference, romance (yes really), panties/lingerie, blow jobs, face-fucking, utter filth Summary: Hannibal AU where Will is a 19 year old, genderfluid student. Will meets Hannibal for a paper he’s writing. Hannibal has no chill whatsoever.
The last client of the day left punctually at six, leaving Hannibal ample time to arrange his notes and prepare for his evening appointment. He had decided to grant an interview to a student, a relatively rare occurrence. The request had come with an impressive letter of recommendation and had detailed an interesting proposal which Hannibal had been intrigued by.
Dear Dr Lecter,
I hope you will not mind my contacting you unsolicited. I am a psychology student at Johns Hopkins with a particular interest in criminal profiling and abnormal psychology. Recently I read your paper on social exclusion and if you could spare me a few minutes of your time I would like to ask you a few questions, particularly about your comments on the links between social exclusion and aggression. Also, if it would not be too much of an imposition, I would welcome your thoughts on a paper I am writing.
I enclose a letter of recommendation from my mentor, Dr Jack Crawford, and the proposal for my paper, which I hope you will find interesting reading.
I very much hope we can meet.
When seven o'clock came, Hannibal crossed the room and opened the door to the waiting room.
He had expected to find a rather unremarkable-looking college student, perhaps in chinos and a button-down shirt. Instead, sitting with bare legs stretched out and hunched over to read the book resting in her lap, was something else entirely. Hannibal caught his assumption that his visitor would be male - Will could easily be short for a number of girls’ names, particularly Germanic ones.
At the sound of the door opening, Will looked up and his eyes briefly flicked over Hannibal’s form in the doorway before he stood up. Distantly, Hannibal noted that it had been some time since he’d been this wrong-footed, and took a moment to appreciate that fact. Perhaps he had got into the bad habit of assuming he couldn’t be surprised anymore.
“Dr Lecter? I’m Will Graham.” Will extended his hand to shake Hannibal’s, his palm warm and soft and sure. “Thank you again for agreeing to meet with me.”
Instead of allowing himself to be thrown, Hannibal smiled and stepped back so Will could enter his office. “Please, come in.”
Will gathered up his belongings and crossed the threshold, and stood for a moment taking it in - the high ceiling, the alcoves, the mezzanine library, and the softly illuminated desk in the centre. As he did so Hannibal used the opportunity to study Will.
He was dressed simply but strikingly in a red checked shirt-dress and chunky black ankle boots, like he’d seen on hundreds of teenage girls. The sleeves were rolled up and he was holding a bulging rucksack and with an oversized khaki-coloured parka with a fake fur hood thrown over one arm. The bare legs and forearms on display were decidedly masculine, if young and slender. His hair was neither decidedly long or short. It just grazed his shoulders and when a stray curl fell across his face he tucked it behind his ear carelessly.
Overall the effect was stunning, the delicate beauty of his young face both enhanced and offset both by his clothing, his reddened lips and darkened lashes, and the artlessness of his movements.
Hannibal noted the impulse to offer to take his bag and coat, and determined that the time for frankness had arrived.
“Which are your preferred pronouns?”
Will turned to look at him. “People don’t usually ask me that.” Hannibal felt an assessing gaze pass over him, as if Will was the one interviewing him, then he said with a shrug. “I’m glad you did though. Whatever you feel comfortable with, I really don’t mind.”
So I saw one of my favorite former students this morning. At the hospital for my exam, she was the receptionist helping me fill out my paperwork. She asked if we knew each other. So I looked at her and then at the name ‘Kristi’ on her shirt, and I remembered exactly who she was and why she was one of my favorite students. Kristi and her friend Andrea had one of my English courses at the community college around 5-6 years ago. Nice pair of gals, around my age (late 20s at the time) and smart and outgoing.
What was remarkable about Kristi and Andrea, though, was how they basically adopted one of the other girls in the class. There was a younger girl in the class, whose name was also Kristi, who was fresh out of high school. Kristi the Younger was a very bright young woman, but small and highly introverted. What was so amazing was how Kristi the Elder and Andrea immediately became pals with Younger Kristi and on the second day of class started sitting on either side of her. I wish my memory was good enough to give examples of specific incidents, but it was really kind of an over-the-semester progression. They’d ask Young Kristi for feedback and opinions on things. They’d prompt her during group discussions, and even got her to speak up during class discussions. And frequently they’d comment on how smart she was. It was kind of impressive just how much more confidence Kristi the Younger was showing by the end of the semester, both in her writing and in her interactions during class. (I remember getting the impression that the three of them hung out outside of class a bit too. Which was cool as well.) Though I haven’t taught in a few years now, I always placed a great deal of value on my older, non-traditional students and the ways that they can influence and even mentor the younger students—often without even realizing that’s what they’re doing.