degree choices

anonymous asked:

if your still doing requests, could you do a fic where Jughead is a serpent and goes to Southside high and Betty is head cheerleader at riverdale and is dating Chuck? thanks and I love your writing!

Jughead held the rag to his nose, cursing under his breath as his friends all tended to their injuries. They had been jumped, absolutely wrecked by some Riverdale goonies in Blue and Yellow Letterman Jackets. Jughead recognized them instantly when they ran onto the Southside Basketball courts, Chuck Clayton leading the way as he and his idiotic, brain dead jock teammates face off against The younger generation of he Southside Serpents, a notorious gang in the darker parts of Riverdale.

Neither side had won the fight, both groups of boys going home with some serious injuries, however they had stolen his Leather Jacket and he was fairly pissed about that.

“I’ll kill them” a burly boy named Dean stated, spitting tobacco on the ground as he cracked his knuckles, nursing a seriously bruised cheek.

“We have to retaliate, maybe hit up that Diner they’re always going too.“A dirty teenager shouted from the back.

Beside him his closest friend and fellow Serpent ,Keith, rolled his eyes, elbowing Jughead with an exasperated shrug.

Jughead shook his head, wincing as he removed the rag

“We’ll get them back, but for now…we make them wait.. they’ll be waiting for us. Make them shake a bit” he said simply, as the other boys nodded in agreement. The Serpents always listened to Jughead, he was the voice of reason
And with his father being the gang leader he had somewhat of a pull.

There was a soft knock on the door, all of the boys went quiet as it slowly opened, revealing the one thing no one was expecting.

In walked an incredibly beautiful, blonde teenaged girl, her long hair pulled tightly in a ponytail and her shiny green eyes looking nervously around the bar, she had on a floral blue skirt and a clean white sweater, considering the fact that it was definitely over eighty degrees the choice of top confused Jughead, she stepped forward a nervous smile gracing her perfect heart shaped lips. She had a familiar leather jacket clenched in her hands and she seemed taken aback by everyone staring at her

“Umm hello. I’m so sorry to interrupt but I have something to return.”

Even her voice was soft like cotton. She held out the leather jacket to the group

“I found this in my boyfriends car, I know it doesn’t belong to him so I thought I would bring it back on my own.” She looked around, waiting for someone to claim it, her fingers twitching.

Snapping out of his daze Jughead walked towards the gorgeous blonde.

“That’s mine, your boyfriends an asshole” he said simply, standing before her and gently taking the jacket, his eyes fluttering closed for a second as he inhaled the fresh vanilla and peach that wafted off of her.

“You have no idea” she smiled sadly, something in her eyes made Jughead want to reach for her, grab her and wrap her up. “I’m so sorry about this, he just.. he gets that way sometimes, Chuck should never have taken your things and he definitely should never have attacked you all.” She looked around, her sad green eyes growing more desperate by the second, he wanted to make her feel better, something he wasn’t used to feeling. Jughead jones didn’t care about anyone but himself and his gang.

“It’s not your fault he’s a dick” he said monotone .

He saw a glint of something in her eyes as she giggled and he felt a tiny bit of pride for being the one to put it there. She coughed a bit and nearly every Serpent ran towards her, shoving beers in her face.

“Oh!” She exclaimed, smiling at the gesture
“That’s very sweet, but I’m okay.” She coughed again and this time Keith pushed his beer a bit too fast, spilling most of it on her sleeves, Jughead shoved his friend away from the blonde and then rest of the Serpents shouted at him, smacking him upside the head

“That’s okay!” She laughed, an honest to god happy laugh “it’s just some beer” she rolled up her sleeves to her elbows and Jughead had to bite back the hiss at what he saw. Her arms were covered in purple and blue bruises, fingerprint shaped marks littered her wrists and by the collective growl he knew the other boys had seen it too. He was going to kill Chuck Clayton.

The Serpents didn’t make the best decisions but one thing they didn’t tolerate was abuse to any woman, especially this gorgeous angel.

Her eyes went wide and she began pulling her sleeves down
“Well, once again I want to apologize for my classmates behavior. I’d like to say it won’t happen again, but when you make Chuck Clayton mad.. well there’s really nothing you can do.” She shrugged helplessly as she headed towards the door, waving slightly to the people she passed.

When she was almost at the door Jughead looked up to see each and every Serpent looking at him with threatening eyes.

“Go after her you dumbass” dean whispered loudly.

Rolling his eyes Jughead headed for the door just in time to catch her before she stepped into her black minivan.

“Hey!” He called, causing her to spin around.

“Is everything okay?” She asked, concerned.

“Everything’s fine, you just didn’t tell me your name.” He smirked, pulling his leather jacket on and sticking a cigarette into his mouth.

Betty stared at him, that same glint he had seen a few moments ago back in her eyes. She plucked the cigarette from his mouth, popping it into her pocket and beaming

“My names Betty Cooper, I’ll see you around…?” she trailed off, waiting for him to fill in the blank.

“Jughead. Jughead Jones” he answered, still in awe of the angel in front of him.

“Okay. I’ll see you around… Jughead Jones.” With that, she got in her car and drove towards her personal hell. Riverdale, the town with pep.

Meanwhile Jughead was staring at her retreating car, his face stuck in a stupid grin.

Keith and Dean came up behind him, calling for the other Serpents.

“So.. what’s her name?” Dean asked as the low mumble of the Serpents came from behind him.

“It’s Betty.. Betty Cooper. Maybe you were right, maybe we should pay the diner a friendly visit sooner than I thought.” He said, his eyes hardening at the thought of Betty’s “boyfriend”

You want a war Chuck Clayton? You got one. And this time?

He was gonna save fair Juliet.

theangelshavethephonebooth  asked:

quick elsewhere university question: if a trans person was given a second name by their parents when they came out, what kind of power would that name have? (as it's a second name, but still a given one)

It wouldn’t be a danger to you - only the first given name would. All others come with some degree of choice on your part. You’d have the benefit, however, of promising to trade away your ‘true name’ and giving them the new name - it wouldn’t be a lie.

I'll tell you a secret...

Very few humans in history ever had a notion of where they were going and what they were doing. To look back on their success and hard work as the fulfillment of some plan they had for their lives from infancy…is revisionist and fundamentally detrimental to your psychology.

You young ones…some of you graduating or attempting to plan the rest of your lives as if writing a book report, are failing to see the truth: that great men become great by degrees, through difficult choices, and almost none of them plan to be where they end. Choose any famous person and do an in-depth analysis of their life. You will doubtlessly find a litany of things that they did before they became a figurehead or signpost for “success”. You will witness the crossroads of their lives and the path they walked. You won’t see what they went through to decide on the path, the leaps and bounds and personal hurdles they overcame to follow a branch to its terminus. All you see are the results.

Did you know that George Washington’s great-grandfather John only ended up in Virginia because he wrecked his ship? Ran it aground in a river and married the lady whose family took him in. He married into plantations and all because he failed at seafaring. Mind you, I don’t happen to find George Washington a particularly romantic figure, but there are many reasons for that, not limited to his ownership of slaves. But that is beside the point. Men uphold him as a hero and an icon who couldn’t lie about cherry trees or some such. It’s all silly. Let’s look at Ben Franklin. He’s a bit less controversial. His father was a chandler (a tallow merchant) and he ran away at 17. He worked a few odd jobs in a series of printing houses, until he went to London on a broken promise. That is to say, he was told he’d be fetching some equipment, only to be somewhat stranded there. He ended up working at the press in a church I know very well, and then wandered back to the colonies to found the Philadelphia Gazette. His first published works were under a pseudonym. Let’s have another go? Hmm…Mozart! Born to a minor composer and violinist he had almost no education but what his father gave him. People go on and on that the boy was a prodigy who seemed suddenly able to write music, but that is falsehood. His father Leopold was dedicated to his son’s education. People say that Mozart wrote his first symphony at 8, and while that’s terribly impressive you’re forgetting two things: firstly that his father was a musician who gave the boy’s talent all of his support, and secondly that his father transcribed and annotated all of his youthful works. Mozart did not compose alone until he was in his 20’s and most of his works are variations on themes. Not to diminish his prowess, but to suggest that all achievements are merely progressions that are varied and applied, altered and experimented with, given attention or ignored.

You cannot plan your life. Your life is not yours. Your life is a thing that unfolds with some consent from you, in an ever-changing kaleidoscope of environment, association, education, and circumstance. Cease planning your life. Stop making yourself anxious over the plan.

Live. Make the decision that is best for now, and then open yourselves to change and growth. Then make another decision when the need arises.

There’s only one goal you should have for your existence:

Be the best person you can. Always challenge and improve. Always find the joy. Always foster it in others. Be a better human.

If you can manage that, you’ve done better than the vast majority of history and you’re a hero in my very very very long book.

This has been your matriculation pep talk, courtesy of your friendly neighborhood cryptid.

anonymous asked:

Hi, Madi. What do you do when you need to stay disciplined while doing things you don't want to do? How do you get through turmoil if its a means to the end you want to achieve? My studies are wearing me out and I feel utterly dejected.

Hello.
I empathise, I really do. The closer you are to the finish line, the more Sisyphean the feat.

There’s no simple answer here. It’s about cultivating discipline. That’s all I’ve got for you.
Depending on the type of person you are, the following statement will reassure you or aggravate you: discipline is strict. It’s setting one alarm in the morning instead of staggering them. It’s creating a timetable and following it to the T. It’s making sure you eat what fuels your body. You do all these little contributory things throughout the day and your discipline, like a muscle, will get stronger.
But also, make the journey a little easier on yourself. I’ve found that the only way to deplete the surmounting anxiety of academia is to really appreciate my off time by eliminating stresses. Do your bloody homework so that you don’t have to contend with the perpetual white noise that is your subconscious panicking over the fact that you have an assignment due in three days an assignment due in three days an assignment due in three days. Then you can read the books that you want to, watch that foreign film you’ve been eyeing, socialise with your friends—and you can do it in peace. You might even have a restful night’s sleep.

Reduced to its most basic form, discipline is self care. Make the active choice to take care of yourself by keeping as many doors open as possible. This feeling of bone-deep weariness will pale in comparison to the euphoria of your successes.

i want to make a studyblr account

🌼i finally figured out what my goal is, what i wanna do and where i wanna go for university
🌼my parents said the only way they’ll fully support my choice of degree is if i get into this specific uni(that i really wanna go to as well because their psychology course is AMAZING)
🌼to get into that uni i need AAA(or even A*AA because my college is s h i t) therefore rn i am so motivated but i feel like making a studyblr where i post notes and stuff, mayb reminders will help a lot.
🌼could u like/reblog if u would be interested in following a studyblr by me
🌼im currently studying: CHEMISTRY, BIOLOGY, HISTORY & PSYCHOLOGY

Late-Night Studying (Hercules Mulligan x Reader)

Originally posted by thinkingabouttheater

Pairing: Hercules Mulligan x Reader

Requested?: ‘27 herc or Benny?’

Prompt: “Did you hear that?”

Words: 700+

Warnings: Sassy Herc, Tired Fluff

A/N: I wrote this at 3 AM yesterday & never posted it until now. Oops ^^”

Masterlist

~~~

“Herccc,” You groaned as your head was slammed on the top of the desk, most likely leaving a bruise on your forehead. “I can’t do this.”

It was two-thirty in the morning on a Wednesday. The reason that you weren’t in bed with your boyfriend was because you were having a cram session for your final while Hercules sketched out fashion designs, sitting Indian style at the foot of the bed. You both attended the same art college and shared the same dorm along with your best friend Angelica and his friend Lafayette. While your roommates had classes during the day, you and Herc had evening and night classes, making you somewhat night owls. You and Angelica were studying in the field of Visual and Performing Arts, Lafayette was majoring in Music (specifically Songwriting), and Hercules was a Fashion Design prodigy. 

You were pursuing Performing Arts because your brother wanted to be in Theater and perform in public. You used to be very antisocial but he helped you out of your shell and you learned to embrace the limelight and the adrenaline of live performing. But, your brother had a terrible accident that left him paralyzed from the waist down. So, you vowed to keep going with your dream job and making Performing Arts your college degree choice. Your parents were proud of you but really wanted you to take on engineering like your dad but you didn’t want a boring life. So, they’ll have to deal with an actress for a daughter.

Hercules looked up from his sketchpad and chuckled at your deflated form sitting at the desk, your head planted on the wooden tabletop. He thought you were so cute when you were exhausted from cram studying. He placed his sketchbook and package of drawing pencils back in his book bag and stood, stretched his arms, and yawned. Right now, you’d be drooling over his beautifully toned muscles, but you were too occupied with dozing to sleep at the desk. Herc moved over and pulled your chair back, making your head slide off the desk. Before you could fall forward out of your seat, Herc picked you up bridal style and lightly threw you onto the bed. You let out a comfortable sigh of air out of your nose, slipping under the warm covers and nestling into the mattress.

Hercules watched you with adoration. You were just so cute when you try to sleep! He could already imagine cuddling with you for the rest of the night. But, he had to finish his sketches or it will eat at his psyche for hours and cause him no sleep. So, he sat down, pulled the chair back up to the desk, and retrieved his book bag. He just took out his sketchpad and pencils when you sat up abruptly, your once messy bun now free from the hair tie that was now laying on the pillow. You blinked a few times before glaring tiredly at your boyfriend from across the room.

“Herc,” You said with a pouty tone. “Get in bed.” 

Hercules blinked a few times before softly smiling. “I will, my dear. I just need to finish this sketch.” 

“No. You come to bed now.”

“Just give me five minutes, okay?”

“No. Come to bed now.” You were practically whining.

“(Y/N), I need to finish this.” Hercules whined back.

“Hercules Mulligan, I need you to come over her a cuddle with me.” You shot back.

Hercules looked up to look at you. His soft features now held a tired frown. The room was silent besides from the crickets outside the open window and your breathing.

“Did you hear that?” Hercules whispered.You frowned. 

“Hear what?” You whispered back.

“The sound of complete silence where you’re asleep and not bothering me.” 

You glared darkly at Hercules, who was smirking smugly. You wanted to punch him but didn’t have the energy to argue any longer. You just fell back onto the pillow and murmured about how you were going to make Hercules sleep on the couch for a few nights as you tried to get comfortable. 

After a few moments, you felt a dip in the bed behind you. You felt strong arms wrap around you as you were turned around to face Hercules. You smirked.

“So you came crawling back to me, huh?” you said smugly but also tiredly.Hercules chuckled. 

“I can still leave this bed, (Y/N).” You pulled Herc closer to you. 

“Nope. You can’t. Goodnight Herc-y. I love you.” 

Hercules kissed your forehead lightly before tucking his head in the crook of your neck.

You slowly fell asleep as Hercules murmured: 

“Sweet dreams, my princess.”

Tag Squad!: @artisticgamer @midnightokieriete @death-by-hamilton @proud-shy-slytherin @buckybarneshairpullingkink  @theoverlordofeverything @sweaterkitty-fluff  @queen-of-the-pillow-fort @thatuglydino @awesome-wow-imagines  @nothingtoseeherejustlin @marvelous-hamilfan @listenlyss  @allmyideasarealreadyinuse @sonshinezjm @awesome-wow-imagines

anonymous asked:

Hiiiiii (x Could you please do a royal headcanon about an omega prince and an alpha knight secretly be in love and going out with each other? XD

Yesssss fuck me UP I love this so much

  • The omega prince is probably going to end up married to another royal alpha from another kingdom. He’ll get a degree of choice provided no wars break out, but he’s still kind of bummed out he can’t just choose
  • He often hears the guards and knights talking about their mates, and he gets very jealous
  • One day he’s at some fancy gathering at a duke’s palace, and he gets lost wandering around the halls
  • As he walks, he finds himself in the gardens, and the doors are being guarded by a solitary knight bearing the duke’s family crest across his breast plate
  • The knight notices that the omega prince is alone, and he rushes over and says “your highness, are you alright? Why aren’t you in the banquet hall?”
  • The omega blushes because holy shit does this alpha smell good and admits that he’s lost
  • The knight, in true alpha style, puffs his chest out and salutes the omega and asks “would you allow me to escort you to the hall, your highness?”
  • The omega accepts, of course, and the knight waits for omega to begin walking so he can follow from behind (as is customary to do), but the omega simply smiles and says “I would like you to walk by my side”
  • By this point, the alpha is very flustered and nervous, but accepts, internally screaming because not only are they escorting a prince but the prince is very cute
  • The omega is sad when they reach the hall, and as they bid the knight goodbye, the decide that first thing tomorrow morning, they’ll order that the knight be transferred to his palace
  • Lo and behold, the duke is delighted to offer the knight in service to the prince, and the knight is thrilled and shocked and amazed that the prince actually remembered him
  • The prince sees the knight around the castle, and he’ll smile, and even greet him if they’re alone
  • Gradually, the omega begins to go out of his way to be with the knight, and this doesn’t go unnoticed by his beta escort, who suggests that he promote the knight to part of his royal guard
  • Meanwhile, the prince’s parents are ecstatic, because their son is finally showing a interest in royal proceedings, and is supplementing their own royal guard instead of just letting it be picked for them
  • When in reality, the prince is just showing an interest in the knight
  • The prince, although shy, is the first to move. One day, as his guard is being escorted, he feigns anger, and dismisses all the knights except his alpha knight, acting as though he’s furious with the alpha
  • The poor alpha has NO CLUE what’s going on, and his heart is slowly breaking because he really doesn’t want to leave this omega’s side
  • Once the guards are gone and the two are alone, the omega steps up to the knight, pulls his helmet back, and kisses him
  • The knight’s heart is suddenly repaired and racing and his mind is going a mile a minute because hOLY SHIT THIS BEAUTIFUL OMEGA PRINCE IS KISSING HIM
  • They stare at each other in shocked silence for a few minutes after, their scents shifting between content, nervous, and adoring
  • Then, the knight clears his throat and puffs out his chest, and gets down on one knee, bowing his head
  • “Your majesty” he says “I pledge my life and loyalty to you and only you, for as long as your reign may last and beyond”
  • The omega giggles and tells them to get to their feet, and then kisses them briefly
  • Every time they see each other from then on, they give each other furtive and wanting glances, and when they’re alone, which is very rarely, they’ll fall on each other like long lost lovers
  • The prince sometimes sneaks out of his room during the night to go to the guard quarters
  • The other knights and guards all think the knight is in Really Big Trouble with the prince, because the prince asks to see him so much in private
  • Only the prince’s escort knows what’s happening, but that’s because they found the knight hiding under the prince’s bed when they had almost gotten caught by the king
  • They’ll give each other looks during formal events, and every possible moment, the prince will ‘slip out to get some air’ and take his personal guard with him
  • When in reality they’re just slipping out for a quick snog

anonymous asked:

What can I do with a bs in "International Affairs?"

Quick Tip: International Affairs & International Relations are generally interchangeable degree names. It just depends what title the University you want to attend offers.

Here’s a few jobs for a BS in International Affairs/ International Relations

  • Archivist
  • Demographer
  • Diplomat
  • Foreign Affairs Analyst
  • Foreign Affairs Specialist
  • Foreign Service Officer
  • Immigration Specialist
  • Intelligence Specialist
  • Journalist
  • Language Specialist
  • Market Research Analyst

Check out this article: What Jobs Can I Get With an International Relations Major?

Worry is melting away to contentment. Today is sunny and warm, spring is coming, we went on a family walk, and I received my inspection back; my little Camry has passed with flying colors and I have an opportunity to possibly trade in for a gorgeously red Subaru. My brother comes out in a month or so and work is getting easier. Time passes and so do anxieties about the future. Now only if I can get a career/degree choice in order. Happy Friday loves! 🌲❄️💕

wetherebelskies  asked:

Hey, so I'm having a really shit time at home for Easter since my mum just said the new style and hair I have makes me look like a thug and that I'm not pretty anymore... followed by half my family insulting my degree choice and just generally making me want to drop through the floor and cry... I need some of your confidence to make me want to go back downstairs for dinner... :(

Andy: Here’s a trick I learned as a coping mechanism. Turn it back on them, when mom says you don’t look pretty anymore, tell her “art doesn’t always make sense to people” and toss your locks. It’ll make her laugh while calling her out. When they question your major just say “If I’m going to give myself over to the man, I might as well enjoy what I’m doing”

It’s making jokes so that people think you’re laughing with them, but you’re actually putting them in their place.

I hate when millennials complain about the economy and people respond with “well then you shouldn’t have majored in gender studies and sock-puppetry”

listen buddy first of all screw you, minimum wage was originally designed to support a small family and now we can’t even support one person on it, and I’m pretty dang sure I can get a minimum wage job with any kind of degree or no degree but that doesn’t mean it’s sustainable

second of all, you really think the only reason we’re getting screwed over is our degree choices? you think the people with math or business or science degrees aren’t struggling? I have a social work degree and even IF I could find a job in my field, I know for a fact that’s not a guarantee because people I’ve worked with in the past had master’s degrees and were at supervisor level and STILL had to take on a second job. That’s not some obscure field, it’s a super common and necessary thing and it’s still be hard to find a position let alone one that doesn’t pay crap.

get out of my face with that ‘you shouldn’t have majored in X’ junk

Truths - Sith!AU Snippet

In which freshly-fallen Sith Apprentice/Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi has to report to the Jedi Council after returning alone from a fateful mission to a Sith temple.

This is a snippet for one of several Sith!AUs that occupy far too much of my brainspace to be healthy. It’s also a Qui-Gon-lives-and-takes-Anakin-as-a-Padawan-AU, which means Obi-Wan is a young Jedi knight left to figure things out on his own without a padawan or master to help ground him. At least the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic seems to be genuinely interested in his life, even though he is a politician.

Because I have only 20 days left to finish my 60-page thesis (of which I have already finished two pages- yay!), I decided today would be a great day to finally sit down and actually write some fanfic. Which I haven’t done in more than a decade and which I’ve never seriously attempted before in English.

 


For the first time in weeks, he genuinely feels the calm he is projecting.

It’s a decidedly odd feeling, given the circumstances. Almost serene, almost like the world hadn’t completely turned on its axis— like he hadn’t turned.

He feels no inner turmoil: no fear, no anger, not even self-loathing. Not anymore. In a way, Obi-Wan Kenobi has never felt more like a Jedi than in this very moment. There is no emotion, there is peace. It’s the one tenet of the Code he had struggled with the most during his younger years, a struggle that had almost cost him his place in the Order.

And isn’t that truly ironic? Qui-Gon has feared his emotions would leave him vulnerable to the dark, but in the end the dark turned out to be what helped Obi-Wan rid himself of them at long last.

Or I’ve just gone into shock. It has been a long time coming, after all, and maybe the horror of what he has done— of what he has had to do, he reminds himself again— will only delay the inevitable appropriate emotional response. He isn’t sure which he prefers.

Peace is a lie, there is only passion.

Keep reading

Let’s have a Ball (Bobby Finstock x Reader)

Request: Can you do a Couch Finstock one shot .. where a former student becomes a teacher at the school? -Anon

A/N: Here it is!  MASTERLIST

Word Count: 465

Warning: Fluff


It was your dream to become a PE teacher. You were on the Lacrosse team and the football team. You used to watch football matches and go to the gym. Where did you get all this enthusiasm? From Coach Finstock. He was surprised when he discovered that you liked sports because all the other girls were lazy and posh. He helped you with training. By time, you grew close and let him under your skin.

Originally posted by emmawathson

After years of hard work and dedication, you got your degree. You got a choice where to teach…and you chose Beacon Hills. You entered the school and looked on your left. There was Finstock’s office. You knocked until you heard “Come in.” You walked in. “Y/L/N?” He asked as he sat up and kept staring at you. “I did it!” He began cheering at my response. He hugged you tightly and you hugged him back. “Thank you so much.” He gently released and looked in your eyes. “So…let me show you the new Lacrosse team.” I followed him to the pitch. “So Y/N, what’s an insect’s favorite game?” That was an old pun which he used to say. You laughed every time because it never got old. “Cricket.” You chuckled. The team was sitting lazily in the shade on the bleachers. “Get up lazy asses!” He shouted. slowly, they got up and stood on the white line. “This is Ms.Y/L/N. She will be helping me with you morons. I want you to show you respect and to keep your dirty hormones in the box. Do you understand me Greenberg?” The boy quickly nodded. Finstock moved up and down the boys, stating new rules. “Okay talk a lap!” The boys began jogging around the field. “So…Y/N, there’s a game tonight…and I was wondering if you’d like to come over to my place and watch it there.”

Originally posted by teen-wolf

“Sure. What time?” You asked.

“8:30pm.” He smiled. You took a moment and looked at him again. “But the game starts at 9:00pm.” 

 “We’ll find something to do in 30 minutes.” He winked at you and you blushed. You looked over his shoulder, and saw the team looking at you two. Finstock turned and saw the team making kissy faces and whistling. “Take another lap!” He yelled. He was red with embarrassment. You sat on the bleachers and talked about your old mates and about Greenberg who you didn’t know but you laughed at Finstock’s comments. Every time the team arrived  from their laps, he’ll order them to take more, getting more chance to talk to you. He decided to have some mercy and told them to stop. “My grandmother can move faster than that…and she’s dead.” Greenberg came tumbling after the team. “Terrible.” He whispered. You pursed your lips and held in the giggle.

Originally posted by theoraekens

3

Full email Adam Lanza sent to his mother in response to her feeling like she wasted her life, age 16:

“You do not seem to understand that I was attempting to comfort you with what I consider to be a maxim with which to live. You unfortunately probably still do not understand what I mean. As a disclaimer: I type nothing in this that is in a tone that is condescending, vindictive, malicious, snide, malignant, or any synonym that you can think of. I mean well.
If you believe that you wasted your life, as you seem to have insinuated, you will gain nothing from regretting it and will only depress yourself; you cannot change anything from the past. There is something that I can assure you of that will always be true: it does not matter if you live for the next one year, five years, ten years, fifteen years, twenty years, thirty years, fifty years or even 100 years; the day before you die you will regret ever worrying about your life instead of thinking of what you want to do.
Every new year that you do live, you will regret not having started anything that you wanted to do the year prior, only regretting the past more.
What I mean is that you should think of what you want to do today; not starting next year or next month, but today. Thinking that you are not going to be able to do anything in the future will only ensure that fate. Also thinking that you are too “old” is going to ensure the same fate.

It is not as though I do not mean that you are homeless and begging; I would spend my life savings to prevent that out of obligation for what you have done for me. My personality is merely inherently unmoving; I will not be upset over something that you cannot change. And you should not be upset either. What you should do is think about what you want to do.
I also want to mention that I purchased something two weeks ago on Newegg to double your computer’s memory without even saying anything until now. I do not try to avoid doing anything for you as you seem to think. I am glad that I was born, and I appreciate your having taken care of me. (It is not my fault if you have not detected as much of an increase in speed as I would have liked, however; I blame its outdated processor. I would change that if I could, but it’s not possible to do so for your model.) Please read the first paragraph again.

Nancy’s response back:

I appreciate your effort to be a comfort to me. I apologize if I seemed angry or antagonistic. I was simply over emotional and as it is often the case worrying about the future. I admit that I have been feeling a bit overwhelmed by my circumstances lately, but in no way do I regret having raised two wonderful children. I have high hopes for you both and will consider my life a success if you and Ryan live happy and productive lives.
There are a few things that I do regret … one of the biggest is that I dropped out of college, believing it to be more important to help your father get through college. Financially, it was impossible for us to afford a college education for both of us, and it seemed more important that he receive a diploma. In some ways I regret leaving the workforce as it has severely limited my prospects for the future, but again, it was a decision that I made to take more responsibility for the house and the children, and to allow your father to concentrate on his career. I do feel that I was able to be a better mother and have been able to put great effort into raising you and your brother, so that regret is mitigated in that respect. On the occasion that Ryan or you show some appreciation for my efforts, I feel completely justified in that choice and dually rewarded.

I know that it is harder for you to show appreciation, and that it does not come as a natural response. I really do not want you to feel obligated in that way. I do not expect any help, financial or otherwise, from you or your brother, and would not accept it if it were offered. I am certain that I will not be homeless or begging on a street corner, as your father is obligated by law and morality to see that my 30 years of service and sacrifice are compensated for. He has assured me that I will live a comfortable life and that my health expenses are covered. He is an honorable man. I am grateful that I was married to someone who honors his responsibilities. He has also taking [sic] responsibility to provide a college education for both you and your brother, so that neither of you will have to struggle and sacrifice as we did.
If you choose to, you will emerge from college with a master’s degree of your choice, debt free, to pursue any career in life that you wish. When I think of what I would like to do for the future, I think I would like to get my college degree first. I just thought of that tonight, as a direct result of my conversation with you. I think it would be possible as I dropped out only a year shy of my degree, and it seems as I might be spending quite a bit of time on campus waiting for you to take classes, so why not take advantage of that?! I suppose I could take classes at the same time you are taking classes.
I agree with you when you say that I should try to think positively of the future and what I want to do today. There is nothing that I can do about my diagnosis, and I do try to be as healthy as I can, despite the prognosis. I am sure that you noticed that I exercise regularly and do my best to stay in good shape. It’s not like I have the attitude that since I will be crippled anyway I may as well give up and get fat and sedentary now. I am working hard to stay as healthy as I can, for as long as I can.
At some point, I might like to start a business. I sometimes toy with the idea of an internet business like my friend, [L], owns. (Did I punctuate that last sentence correctly?) Her website is [xxx]. You should have a look at it sometime and let me know what you think of it.

Anyway, I would like you to know that no matter what, I am very proud of the person you are. I have no preconceived notion of how you should react or respond. I know that you tend to be more reserved and less emotional and I do not perceive that as condescending malignant, or callous. You are pragmatic and stoical. These are fine attributes. I am glad to know that you are glad to be born and appreciate being taken care of. I love you very much and am more than happy to take care of you in any way I can. I suppose I have felt that you didn’t even notice how hard I try to make things as tolerable as possible for you and that has made me feel sad in a way. I am much happier now, knowing that you do not despise me for bringing you into this world. Above all, I want you to be happy, no matter what you choose to do.
You may not think I notice, but my computer is working faster and I have been able to download bank statements faster and search the websites quicker. I was able to get baseball scores for all the games in a split second, and watch a video clip that a friend sent without any freezing. I didn’t know that you had worked on it, so I thank you for your efforts. You should let me know when you do thoughtful things so that you can get credit! As an aside, I am having a problem that has been ongoing for months. The cursor abruptly moves to a different place in text now and again when I am in the middle of typing a sentence. It is very strange and annoying. Maybe you can have a look at it sometime? Thank you for taking the time to send me this e-mail. I now understand your motive and meaning, and I truly appreciate it!

Have a Nice Day

Chapter 1 

“I don’t think I will EVER be coming back to this place” the woman ranted, “Such an awful selection of clothes and staff. It’s just the worst. I can’t believe people actually work here”. Annabeth continued scanning and folding the clothes before placing them into a bag, all the while trying not to hit the customer. She was forced to open up another bag just for the underwear, ‘clearly the selection isn’t THAT bad…bitch’. Annabeth was in a terrible mood. Partly because of the infuriating woman she was forced to serve with a smile. The fake tan, seven inch heels and the way she kept chewing her gum with her mouth open. All of it served to piss her off. But mostly, her bad mood was caused by him.

“About time!” the woman snarled. She grabbed her bags and spun away “never coming back here again!”.

She had taken two steps before Annabeth called out “we hope to see you soon!” The woman turned and glared at Annabeth, who was grinning. The company handbook did say to always serve with a smile. She closed her register before another customer could march up to her and risk bodily harm. She wasn’t normally like this. She was cool and calm. Annabeth was known for never getting angry but that guy just got under her skin. Immature, cocky, annoying. She hated him. Almost enough to stop her from noticing that he was hot as hell. Almost.

She turned and walked towards the break room. Annabeth had had enough for now. Her fingers were itching to wrap around someones throat, and if it was a customer then the company would get sued. By taking a long lunch she was being a dutiful employee. The manager was walking towards her but one look at her face made him veer off at a ninety degree angle.

'Smart choice little man’.

Striding into the room, Annabeth kicked the door closed behind her and lay down on the sofa. It wasn’t what anyone would call lavish. A single sofa, a couple of chairs around a table and a fridge that was somehow warmer than the room itself. With her feet on the arm rest, she began to read one of the magazines she had left there. Architectural design. All she had to do was work in this hell for a few more months and then she’d be off to change the skyline. Away from dumbass customers, incompetent managers and that goddamn bastard.

“Your knuckles are white. I bet you’re thinking about me?” Annabeths hands were indeed clenched around the magazine and at the sound of his voice, that tension spread through her entire body. Without lowering the crumpled publication, she simply uttered “Fuck. Off. Jackson”

* * *

Percy Jackson had been sitting on a chair, having already finished his lunch. He was delaying going back out for as long as possible. Percy loathed this job. With every fibre of his being he loathed it. Fish. Fish were his thing, everything else could go to hell. The door slammed open and his eyes narrowed. It was her. He could not remember who had started this little feud or why, but all he knew was that they had known each other for months and had hated each other for just as long. It didn’t help that they were nearly always on the same shift. She reclined on the sofas and began to read another of those damn building books. Annabeth clearly didn’t know he was there. Until he taunted her. “Fuck. Off. Jackson”.

She said his name. Kind of her, he thought. Percy never said her name; he only ever called her- “Come on, Blondie. Is that any way to treat your best friend in this whole place?” He saw her fingers begin to tear the pages and snorted “don’t tear it. THEN what will you read while you avoid working?” She threw it onto the table in front of her and sat up, glaring at him. Annabeths hair was loose around her neck and even IT looked angry at him.

“ME avoid work? I’ve been out there for hours with those idiots while you’ve been in here playing with yourself. Why don’t you get off your ass and actually be useful”. Percy sat back in his chair, staring at her with a savage grin. As much as he loathed her, and he did, Percy enjoyed these fights. There was nothing quite like it. And if he made her so angry she began to shake? Well, life has its little perks.

“Well we can’t all be as useful as you with your bra and panties display”. Annabeth hated being the only woman on this shift. And she really hated when they made her do work that was 'unsuitable’ for a man. Like dressing all the mannequins in the womens underwear section. He remembered the first time she had been asked to do it. The manager still flinched whenever he had to talk to her. She shot up and stormed over to him. Percy couldn’t help but notice her body, her face, those eyes. She was absurdly gorgeous. It made her even more annoying. He stood up as she got closer, but the fact that he was taller than her didn’t stop her from jabbing her finger hard into his chest.

“Say that again. I dare you”.

* * *

The bastard had the audacity to smirk down at her; not even the slightest bit afraid. Annabeth knew she was terrifying. She had earned that fear. There weren’t many men, or women, who could stare her down and yet she was inches from him and all he was doing was grinning. She wanted to punch him. Annabeth could lay him down with one hit and GODS how she wanted to do it. “What? nothing to say Jackson? I really want you to say it again”. Still he said nothing. He just kept watching her.

“A pity. Although I’m guessing this isn’t the first time you’ve left a woman unsatisfied”. A frown flickered across his face and was gone less than a heartbeat later. But she had seen it. This time it was Annabeth who smirked “Oooh I see now. This is why you act like such a dick. Because you don’t know how to use yours. Teeny tiny Jackson and his inability to get the O. Poor little boy”. This time it was Percy who moved forwards. A single step until their chests were touching. He licked his lips before speaking and unconsciously she wet her own.

“Oh Blondie please even you don’t believe that. If you’re that hard up then I’m always willing to help you out. If you say please”. He had leaned forward and whispered the last part into her ear, and the feel of his breath on her skin brought images to her head that were more distracting than they had any right to be. That only made her angrier. She shoved him away and he tripped over the chair he had been in and stumbled.

“How dare you talk to me like that!” Annabeth had never hated him more than at this moment and wanted nothing more than to hurt him. The fury in his eyes as he straightened himself told her he felt the same. 

Percy marched right back in front of her, forcing her back by his very body “What’s wrong? You can talk shit but you can’t take it?!”

Before they knew it they were both shouting. Screaming insults at one another and all Annabeth knew was that she wanted to hurt him. Wanted to rip his skin with her fingernails. Wanted to bite him until she drew blood. Wanted to tear off his clo- 

The door to the break room exploded open and suddenly there were hands pulling her away from Percy. It took her a few seconds to realise that their co-workers had forcibly separated them and their manager stood between them. “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!? WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU TWO?!?” Far from being afraid, after she had caught her breath Annabeth was amused. Their manager never shouted and apparently that was because when he did, his voice cracked like a pubescent boys. A glance at Percy told her that he was thinking the same thing. That they thought the same way and that she could read him so easily did not make her happier.

“I’ve had complaints about both of you, and now you’re fighting at work? Well enough. You’ve both just volunteered to stay overnight and do a complete inventory check of everything we have”. They both protested at the same time.

“You can’t do that!”

“That’s not fair!”

“Well it’s your choice. Either do the inventory or you’re both fired. Choose”. Annabeth said nothing. She needed this job, and apparently so did Percy. “Excellent. You work tonight. Both of you. I hope you’re feeling rested”.

* * *

They had even refused to leave the lights on. Not only were they forcing him to work through the night, they had turned off the heating and the lights. Only the emergency lighting was on. “It’s all on a timer” the manager had called out as he left the building “can’t do anything about it”. Annabeth hadn’t even looked at him as the lights went down. She just turned and marched directly into the men’s department, knowing he would refuse to be anywhere near her. Which was how Percy ended up in the women’s area counting how many black skinny jeans they had and wondering why the pockets were so small.

It had been a few hours since everyone else had left and apart from the occasional clink of the hangers being placed back on racks, it was perfectly silent. He had managed to do all the dresses and waist up clothing. The shirts, blouses, camisoles, tube tops, tank tops and vests had almost broken him. Percy was finishing up the waist down apparel and for some reason he found the trousers, shorts, skirts, leggings, jeggings and capri pants oddly calming. He turned towards the final section. The place where he’d known he’d have to go ever since Annabeth stepped towards the boxer shorts. With a deep breath, Percy walked into the lingerie area.

It took about five minutes for Percy to stop feeling uncomfortable. Underwear was underwear. Although he had to admit it was much more appealing than mens underwear. Softer too. But he did his job and sorted out as much as he could. He had come to a particularly stubborn bra and was checking it against the others for its size when he heard a noise behind him. Percy spun round instantly and moved into a crouched stance. Hands up in front. Eyes scanning for threats.

“Good job there Jackson. Gonna defend yourself with that strapless?” Annabeth snorted as he straightened up and turned his back on her. Instantly he felt just as awkward as he had when he’d started this area.

“What do you want Blondie?” Percy asked, once more trying to size the bra.

“I wanted to see what was taking you so long but now I know. You’re getting off on the thongs”. Percy looked over his shoulder to see Annabeth smirking at him. He let his eyes rake slowly and suggestively over her body to annoy her.

“Actually I’m more of a french cut kind of guy” he said. The blush that rocketed up her cheeks was proof that what he had said was more than a random comment. The idea of…her, wearing…those made his head swim and his concentration slip for a moment. “Oh no. Did I just discover Annabeths Secret?”

* * *

It was such a stupid reaction but no matter how hard she tried, Annabeth could simply not stop blushing. It was infuriating and she blamed him! He just stood there with his annoying grin and dishevelled hair and broad shou-

'CONTROL YOURSELF WOMAN!’ she scolded herself.

“Just shut up Jackson. You don’t know what you’re talking about”. But he didn’t shut up. Of course he didn’t shut up. He never does. He walked over to her slowly, getting far too close for comfort. This is just another level in the war, she thought, make me uncomfortable. She swore to herself she wouldn’t back down. Annabeth never lost.

Percy came to a stop right in front of her, close enough that if they inhaled at the same time they’d be touching “Actually I’d say I know exactly what I’m talking about”. She was forced to look up at him until he circled around her. It took all her strength not to turn and follow him round. Annabeth didn’t trust him behind her. He could do anything. The thought made her hands shake until she had to put them on her hips. “But what about the colour?” she felt his breath on the nape of her neck “maybe blue”.

Blue. Like his shirt. Like his car. Like his ring. Annabeths eyes widened before she turned around without moving back. The whole shop was empty, but they were practically pressed up against each other. “I’m sure you’d enjoy that wouldn’t you Jackson? Your favourite colour is blue isn’t it?” His face changed from smug to confused. Now it was Annabeths turn. “You’d enjoy knowing if I was wrapped up in your favourite colour”.

She looked down for a moment before looking back up at him, biting her lip sensuously. Annabeth was close enough to see his throat move as he swallowed and hear his breathing turn ragged. She could even see his pupils dilate as she ran her fingers up and down the buttons of her blouse. “You’d love opening up my shirt” she whispered, as she moved forwards. “Taking it off of me…and seeing my body barely covered in the tiniest of blues” at this point, Annabeth was practically draped over him. She could feel his wild heartbeat; feel his desire. Her own body was warming up as well. Her skin sensitive and her clothes itchy. But that didn’t matter. She was winning. Annabeth stood on her tiptoes and put her lips to his ear “How does it feel knowing you’ll never get the chance?” She lowered herself and watched the desire in his eyes flare and then-

His arm shot around her waist and pulled her towards him. His hard chest crushed against her soft one. The feeling made Annabeth gasp as his hand worked its way beneath her shirt. His palm was burning the small of her back and the way his fingers pressed into her skin made her lose what little control she has left. Later, she would swear it was Percy who kissed her, but it was Annabeth who wrapped her fingers in his hair and dragged his face down towards hers. Not that he resisted.

Their lips met with bruising force, both of them relishing the pain. Percys other hand moved around to cup the back of her neck and then with both arms he squeezed her tight against his body. Her fingers moved from his hair to his back as she deepened the kiss. The message was clear as her fingers dug into his skin through the thin cotton of his shirt, not tight enough! He broke the kiss before moving her head to the side and kissing, sucking and biting his way across her jawline and down her neck.

He was not gentle.

Annabeth appreciated that.

Her pleasured cries echoed in the shop as his teeth marked her skin. She felt as if she was drowning in sensation. Annabeth pulled his lips back to hers and tangled her tongue with his. Pulling him closer, his heart pounding against her chest. Her fingers scratching his bare back. It took far too long for that detail to penetrate the haze of lust that she was lost in. He wasn’t wearing a shirt…and neither was she. The knowledge they were both half naked made her knees weak and her brain scream. With all her strength she pushed him away and jumped back at the same time.

She was in shock. From the look of his face they both were. Her heart was pounding. Her mind was racing. Her body wanted…more. Percy was indeed topless, his shirt was laying on the ground beside them. Annabeth looked down at herself and confirmed that her shirt was on the floor as well, but for the life of her she couldn’t remember when it had happened. The top button of her jeans was also undone. Had she done that? An upwards glance told her that his pants were also undone. Had she done that?

She was hot and cold. She had been cold ever since she had pushed him away. Annabeth picked up her shirt and began putting it back on. As she did she realised his eyes were fixed upon her chest. General annoyance became extreme annoyance when she understood why “One word about the blue bra and I start asking questions about the owl on your hip”.

* * *

Percy had to look away. He was still trying to process everything that had just happened. He’d grabbed her. She’d kissed him. They’d…no. He shivered a little. Thinking about what they had done, made him want to do it again. And more. He couldn’t believe it. It can’t have happened. He looked over his shoulder.

Annabeth too had turned around while she fixed her clothes. As she pulled her shirt down, Percy couldn’t help but stare as the material covered her soft skin and the small red marks where his fingers had dug in. He whipped his head back around and shoved himself into his shirt. It had definitely happened. After making himself presentable he turned around but couldn’t bring himself to meet her gaze until, “don’t you ever do that to me again”.

Percys jaw literally dropped as he looked at her incredulously, “…WHAT?”

“You heard me. Don’t even think about doing that again”.

“ME? You’re the one who kissed me Blondie”.

“Shut up! You grabbed me and then you kissed me”. Percy stormed forwards and was once again standing inches from her. Neither of them noticed.

“Yeah I grabbed you. But YOU’RE the one who tried to lick the back of my neck from the front” Annabeths face turned red as the memories she was trying very hard to ignore came rushing back.

“You started this! You should never have touched me!”

“Says the girl who was practically grinding on me! Why did you even come to my section in the first place” he snapped, once again feeling that anger only she could bring.

“Because I…” her face changed to the expression of one trying to remember something they had forgotten. “Because I came to ask you for the key”.

“What key?” he replied.

“I know it’s your natural setting but don’t play dumb” his fists clenched, “the door key”.

“Why”, he muttered through gritted teeth “would I have the door key?”

“Because you were the last one to see the manager out”.

“Are you stupid or is all that hair crushing your brain? We were both there when he left. Do you recall him giving me anything?" 

Annabeth checked her phone hurriedly, ignoring the insult. 'For now’ he thought to himself. "My phone is dead!” she cried out. “Check yours!”

“Mine’s been dead for hours. Why?” Her expression was furious and she would’ve kicked him if he hadn’t jumped out of the way “HEY!”

“Because idiot, if the office and doors are locked, and our phones are dead then how are we going to get out?” The implications were suddenly horribly, terribly, wonderfully clear.

“We’re stuck here…”.

“All night”.

“Together”.