i know i know *back to maths*

  • Keith: And Lance...
  • Lance: *stops by the door* Yeah?
  • Keith internally: You are such a valuable member of the team. You basically pull us all together when we need it. If it weren't for you, we wouldn't be here today, having this moment. You are my impulse control, always helping me to see clearly when my emotions are too much for me to handle, and that's probably the reason Red chose you to be Voltron's right hand when we needed it. She knows how much I trust you, how much the team needs you. I don't know why you devalue yourself so much, and I feel bad that we as a team didn't make it clear how much we appreciate you. You are really important. But I'm not good with words, so how can I make you understand? How can I get you to cheer up and go back to your cheerful self?
  • Keith: Leave the math to Pidge.
  • Keith internally: nailed it
Hot Like Burning

Sterek, 2.5K words, Teen

AU, Firefighter Derek

In which Derek is the grumpy neighborhood firefighter, and Stiles is a bit of a lovestruck idiot.

Stiles winces as he turns the corner, unbearably nervous like he always is whenever he drives Lydia’s car, and pulls into the fire station. He offered this morning to help her with any errands she needed, and she asked him to take her car to the fire station and have them install the car seat. Stiles had no idea this was even a thing—seriously, how hard is it to put in a car seat?—but unsurprisingly, Lydia is as fastidious about her unborn child’s safety as she is about everything else.

He parks just outside the front door, careful not to block the big bays with the two fire trucks, and wanders inside. “Hello?” he calls out. There’s a noise coming from the other side of the fire truck, so Stiles keeps walking in that direction, then nearly trips over his own two feet.

There’s a guy, crouched down as he washes the wheel well of the fire truck, and Stiles is 101 percent sure that he’s the most attractive person he’s ever seen. He’s frowning, as if he’s pissed at the task in front of him, but it only serves to show off the sharp cut of his jaw under a very nicely-shaped short beard. He’s wearing a tight short-sleeved SFFD t-shirt, which is wet in patches and very clearly showing off the muscled physique underneath.

“Holy shit.”

The guy’s head jerks up at that, his eyes wide, and his gaze locks with Stiles’ for a long second before slowly drifting down the rest of his body. Stiles damn near forgets how to breathe because yep, this impossibly hot dude is most definitely checking him out.

Stiles has never believed in love at first sight, and he still doesn’t, but as of this moment he most certainly does believe in…familiarity at first sight? Cosmic connection? Just plain lust? He has no fucking clue.

But he yelps a little in surprise, then actually manages to trip over nothing, only catching himself by clutching the pillar next to him, which oh fuck, is actually the fire pole. He finally rights himself, grimacing with both arms spread for balance, and then slaps a hand over his eyes with a plaintive groan.

“Oh my god. Hi, hello, my name is Stiles. Uh, any chance we can start over and pretend that this excruciatingly embarrassing encounter didn’t happen?”

Keep reading

Crazy In Love

Originally posted by alex-norma

pairings: stiles x reader; lydia x reader.

warnings: fingering, masturbation (female and male receiving), oral sex (female and male receiving), sex, cursing, slightly daddy kink and mostly NSFW +18. if you’re under eighteen, don’t tell your parents.

a/n: well, this was a first, so I truly hope y'all enjoy it!

word count: 5,2k+

Keep reading

Written Apology

I’ve come out of fic writing retirement to write a fic for @bazinjeanstm! Happy Birthday​! I hope this year is as amazing as you are! And I hope you enjoy this. 

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: Cursing, uh… mild angst? idk

Summary: (AU wear anything your soulmate writes on themselves appears on your skin.) Baz’s soulmate keeps distracting him by drawing on his hand. 


It’s happening again. Lines are forming all over the back of my hand, starting at my fingers and working their way down. The blue lines bend and curl into abstract patterns. Then suddenly, they stop, only to have other smaller details added to them moments later.

It’s very distracting.

I sigh. Thank Merlin, Snow and Bunce are studying in the library today. I don’t want him to see me like this: distracted and daydreaming about the handsome artist who is going sweep me off my feet one day. Eventually. Hopefully.

Keep reading

Much has been made of how the voice in the beginning of the episodes is apparently Junior, but let’s not forget that it’s only telling us what Lucretia told it. Voidfish don’t learn how to cuss from nowhere. Was this Lucretia’s writing style all along? (I mean, she did apparently turn out a few bestsellers.)

Lucretia, taking a break from paperwork to play with the baby voidfish, “…and then they went to go confront Lucas and do you know what happened next? Well. let’s see, according to my math, there’s about a zero percent chance the boys don’t wang this one up. So, uh, essentially mass chaos. I’ve been told there were ghosts involved.”

Junior, singing back gently. 

“Yeah, I bet you want to know what happened next. We all love those dummies. Let me get the case reports and read you the full story.”

Closer - Jughead x Reader

Anonymous said: 

can you write an imagine where the reader is failing math and jughead wants to get closer to the reader and offers to help even though he’s actually bad at math, so when he tries to help her study, they both get frustrated and they end up kissing/confessing their feelings

Originally posted by venomous-lies

I changed it up slightly but hope you’re okay with it!

Word count: 1,008

warnings: none, just fluff :)

It was coming to the end of last period and your favourite subject of all time - math! You sat at your desk with your face lazily rested in your hand as you glanced up at the clock waiting for this nightmare to end. The whole lesson has been a battle to understand even half of what the teacher was saying and it’s stressing you out. 

“Remember, class, we have a test next lesson so make sure you study for it.” Your head jolted up at the realisation. oh crap. You have to do well on this test. You’re already failing math. The bell rang signalling the end of school so you quickly packed up your belongings and rushed out the door, determined to do nothing but study as soon as you got home.

You didn’t realise how nervous you were until you accidentally crashed into someone and almost fell over.  “Sorry!” you blurted out as the stranger caught you by the shoulders and steadied you. You looked up to find a tall and mysterious figure gazing down at you with a worried expression played across his features - Jughead Jones, your childhood friend and secret crush. 

“(Y/N), whoa, what’s wrong?” He asked, hands still on your shoulders. You blushed slightly at the closeness. “Nothing.. I.. Uh, I’m just stressed about failing this maths test.” You flustered. “Really, you?” He teased “I thought you were the class smart-ass.” He played. “I am, Jones. Just not as smart-assy as you.” You sassed back. He chuckled.

You missed this. For some reason you and Jughead didn’t talk that often anymore, even though you were best friends when you were younger. Jughead missed it too, he’d always liked you - though he’d never told you, maybe that’s why he distanced himself. He could still be caught admiring you from afar though. And any time the two of you were together, he’d cherish. Which is what lead him to a thought..

“I could help you study for the test, if you want?” He asked, hope evident in his tone. You looked up at him in surprise, “You’d do that? Thank you Juggie!” You exclaimed. “Sure” He smiled at you, “I’m free anytime, so let me know whenever you need me.” he said. “We could go over to my place and start now?” You suggested. The corner of his mouth curved up, “Why not?” He replied, so the two of you headed over to your place.

You guys talked a lot along the way, mostly about childhood memories. It felt almost as if nothing had changed and you were still best friends. When you arrived at home your parents greeted you and Jughead and you explained that you were going to your room to study together. Your parents exchanged a look but you grabbed Jughead and jogged upstairs to your bedroom before they could embarrass you. 

You waltzed into your room, Jughead following behind you, and turned to face him. He was standing awkwardly by the door. “Make yourself at home!” you reassured him “You can sit on the bed or wherever.” He loosened up at your words and made his way over to sit beside you on the bed, pulling out the notes and revision sheets from his bag.

“Okay..” You sighed and looked at the first question. “Write 4*10-2 as a decimal.” You looked up at Jughead, a puzzled expression on your face. “I don’t have the slightest clue… Can you explain it?” You asked. “Uhh..” He started, and then begun spurring out different methods to solve the equation - to no avail. He was stuck. Jugheads face slowly turned a shade of light red at the slight embarrassment. 

“I don’t understand it very well either.” He admitted. “Okay, we’ll come back to that one.” You said and pointed to the next question - which looked just as daunting. “What about this one?” You asked, frustrated with yourself for not knowing. “Actually…” Jughead started, looking extremely embarrassed as he considered his next sentence, “I’m not really good at any of this stuff, I kinda suck at math. I just..” He paused and debated with himself for a moment. “I just wanted to get closer to you. I know it’s stupid but I really like you, (Y/N).”

You looked at your friend in shock, trying to think of the words you wanted to say. Jugheads face heated up at the silence, and he quickly spoke up, “You don’t have to say anything. I’m sorry I made this awk-” You cut him off, “No no, I really like you too Jug! ever since we were in 6th grade actually. I had no idea you felt that way.”

Jughead just stared at you in surprise as the words sank in. “Really?” was all he managed to say. You chuckled and took his hands in yours, “Yes, really, Jug.” His face lit up with joy and you smiled back up at him. He gazed across your features, eyes darting from your eyes to your lips. He slowly leaned closer to your face. You were so close it set off a fire inside you, you could feel your cheeks flushing and your stomach drop. “Is this ok?” He whispered as his lips brushed against yours.

You replied by crashing your lips into his, and he slowly and passionately deepened the kiss, savouring every moment of it. Jughead brought his hands up to cup your face. Your lips synced together perfectly and you got lost in the moment. You both pulled back for air and looked at one another lovingly. Jugheads hand still caressed your cheek as he spoke up, “Well this turned out better than I expected.” You giggled and agreed.

“ughhh” You groaned, “We still have to figure out these!” you motioned over to the revision sheets. Jughead dramatically slammed his back against the mattress as he collapsed onto the bed and you laughed and threw a pillow at him. He snapped his head up at you with a smirk.. “You just started a war.” 

Sometimes when doing quantum mechanics stuff I realize I forgot and/or don’t know some little nugget of math that I should know. And it frustrates me a bit. But once I take a deep breath and step back… See everything else I’ve done with QM when I look at my past papers… I’m still doing great.

Some days I look at the symbols on the page in wonder. Like, I can understand all of this. And there’s so much of it. It took me years of math and physics training to get there. But I understand all these things. Wonderful things that the average person will never come close to understanding.

Even if I don’t understand some of it, it still feels within my reach. One day soon I will understand it. If not tomorrow, maybe next week. Next year. In a few years? Other mere mortals eventually came to understand it, so it is possible. I consider that the most motivating part of this field.

These are the moments where the journey is so beautiful and worth it.

anonymous asked:

This sounds weird but could you give some advice to other fanfiction writers? You're really good. 💕

oh my goooooooood where are all you lovely people coming from tonight?? 

alrighty, let’s give this a go!

Fanfic Tips:

Character Motivation

This is my biggest thing. You should always, at any given moment, know what every character in a scene wants. What they want is going to dictate how they act and react to things. Without characters wanting things, nobody ever does anything, and your fic doesn’t exist. 

When characters have different motivations and have to come together, magic happens. And as characters develop, their motivations change. 

Great example?

what Luke wants (general motivation: freedom -> The Right Thing): to get off his uncle’s farm and get to go be with his friends at the academy -> to be a Jedi and fight for the rebellion -> to learn more but also keep his friends safe -> to redeem his father.

what Leia wants (general motivation: fight Empire): to get the Death Star plans to the rebel base and find Obi-Wan Kenobi -> to not be in the Empire’s clutches -> to blow up the Death star -> to not be in the Empire’s clutches -> to save Han -> to blow up the other Death Star 

what Han wants (general motivation: self-preservation -> protect friends): to get his hands on some money so that he doesn’t get killed by a mob boss -> to escape the empire -> to help the rebellion/keep his friends safe

(Obi-Wan, meanwhile, pretty much just wants to keep Luke safe, and help the rebellion if he can.)

All different, all interweaving, most of them changing as the characters are influenced by others, and learn and grow. 

So yeah. You gotta know this shit about your characters - it’s crucial. 

Tip? If you’re unsure about whether you know what they want, try making a list of all the important characters in your fic (and then potentially do this with most scenes, briefly) and work out what their main motivation/what they want is. Just…in general. In life. And then, once you’re in a scene, see how this plays into what they want in this exact moment, and how they’re going to go about trying to get it. 

Know Your Source Material

You don’t have to be an expert in your fandom to write fanfic, but the more you know, the easier it is to move through the world and build a story, because you know where you’re going and how things work. Wikis are your friend, especially when working in big universes like DW or SW. (Like, hell, I might know a lot about DW, and feel very comfortable in that universe, but I still find myself on the TARDIS Index File all the time, checking little random things. It’s a damn godsend, and every fandom has a wiki.)

Your Characters Are Just People

Make sure you let your characters fuck up once in a while. They’re fallible beings, they’re going to make rash decisions that backfire, they’re going to try something and fail, they’re going to say the wrong thing and piss somebody off. They’re going to maybe mean well but fuck up majorly, and that’s okay, that’s good. Let them apologise, let them learn from the consequences, let the healing of a wound in a relationship bring the people closer together. 

And yes, this still goes for characters that almost never do anything wrong, or are all ‘holier than thou’. They are still gonna go about some things the wrong way. 

Planning Is Good, But Be Flexible 

In my experience, while some people lean heavily towards one or the other, appropriate use of planning or gardening can depend heavily on what kind of story you’re writing. 

When writing more action based storylines, I’ve found it’s very easy to get stuck in the middle of them - you get the characters into a mess and get stuck for a month not knowing how to get them out. This is where planning tends to be handy. A good way of not getting stuck is to plan it all out in little increments, so there’s not too much room to get stuck. Also, plotting from the back. Start at the end. Works really well a lot of the time. 

If planning works for you, plan as much as you want. But, always, always, be ready to change something, if you try a bit of gardening and end up somewhere different to where you expected to be. Always follow what feels right over sticking with a plan. 

Gardening aka Let The Characters Take The Lead

…this is fanfic. Let’s be honest, we know that most of it is juicy interpersonal stuff. So while planning is all well and good, I think gardening works a lot better. When writing the maths teacher fic, I went in pretty much blind. I had a couple of vague ideas of what I wanted to achieve, but I also wanted the relationship I was developing to be as absolutely genuine/believable as possible (which, according to the general consensus, it is). 

The way to do that?

Don’t try and force things between the characters. Sometimes you might start a scene with a particular moment in mind, and that’s all good, but for me personally, I’ve found that you tend to get results that are more organic by simply going into a scene blind and seeing what the characters do. You should still, hopefully, have an idea of what you want to happen, but the characters and their ways of reacting to things should always come first. 

Seriously, if you’ve got the characterisation down, they’ll do the hard work for you. 

Maybe they’ll get to where you wanted, maybe they won’t. But it’s actually a really fun ride, doing it this way. When are they going to kiss? When are they going to fuck? Who knows? Not me! How could I know, when I haven’t yet seen/created the unique and particular path of events that gets them to that point? 

Like, I went into a chapter once, intending for a child character to kill a guy. But when it came to writing the scene, I just wasn’t quite sure if she would actually do it, even with her evil psychopathic mother egging her on. So I gave the kid the reins/gun, and sat back to see what happened. She ended up shooting him non-fatally, only for him to be killed by the vaguely disappointed mother instead. I was like “oh, okay, cool, that works”. 

Garden. Have fun letting the characters surprise you!


Dialogue is the make or break of a story, really. And the trick to dialogue is to make it authentic, and give the characters their own unique voices. 

First one is simple. Make sure the dialogue sounds like how people actually talk. Anyone who has read any of my fics knows that I use “-” and “…” and “um” and “uh” liberally. That’s because humans, modern day ones at least, aren’t always the most eloquent of creatures. We mumble and say the wrong thing, or get distracted halfway through, or forget what we were going to say, and hesitate when we’re unsure (even posh, eloquent characters, they just do it less and use bigger words in between). Let the characters do this. 

Saying the dialogue out loud will help a lot. Also, you could also try verbally paraphrasing a conversation from the fic to a friend, and you’ll likely find some of the dialogue coming out a lot more casually/authentically. 

As for giving the characters their own unique voices, that’s just down to knowing your canon and being in tune with the characters, which is a crucial thing but unfortunately not something I can really give advice on, you’ve gotta get those in your head on your own. 

Details Matter

Different details matter in different stories. And getting them wrong can really break the immersion.

If you’re writing characters that come from a different place to you, make sure you know how people from that place talk! Americans, don’t you fucking dare have a British character call somebody ‘Mom’, it breaks the immersion completely and makes me want to punch something. It’s ‘Mum’, for anyone from UK/Aus/NZ. And same with Brits writing American characters, but the other way around. This goes for any UK/US/Aus/NZ/Canada language difference. Find out what your character calls things.

Working details out can seem unnecessary, or going over the top, but honestly, half the time you realise that you’ve gone and got something wrong, and next thing you know the entire plot has a gaping hole in it, or a character doesn’t know something they got told three months back, but you forgot about it. 

Like, okay, I have a day by day plan of the timeline of the maths teacher fic (and, going forward, its general universe), because I was trying to weave in all this original material through the show canon (and now, write several stories/oneshot set at the same time within that verse, focused on different characters/things), and if I hadn’t done that, I would have royally fucked myself over multiple times. 

I’m not saying everyone has to make a timeline that detailed, because for a lot of stories it wouldn’t be remotely necessary, but it was for this particular one. 

But just details in general. Do your research, check that thing on the wiki, get specific with details about a character, even if they’re just a minor one (though maybe stick to just one or two details, in this case). 

This kind of goes along with show, don’t tell. Like you could tell the readers blatantly that a character loves a thing, or you could talk about how they wearing clothing printed with the thing and have them jabbering on about it excitedly, you know? 

Don’t be afraid to ask for help if you need information!

Seek out people who are experts in something you need to know about. This might be kink (bless the friends I’ve made through fic in the last six months or so, who have helped me in this area), or something specific to their country’s society/culture/choice of words for a certain thing. 

Also, if you’re trying to add diversity in your fics, and you hopefully should be, ask friends or people on Tumblr from within the group you’re trying to include to get information! Want to write a trans guy? Go find a trans guy to talk to about it! (I did this with a demigirl character recently, and got about four or five really helpful people more than happy to give me the info I was looking for, they were really excited about the prospect of demigirl characters existing at all.) It’s really easy to add in background diversity regardless of what fandom you’re writing for, and it can make a lot of difference to any readers who find themselves unexpectedly represented, even if only in a minor or one time character. 

In Conclusion:

Know your characters, and what they want, and how they talk. Let them lead the story, because they’re why you’re here, and doing all this. Give them real and imperfect voices and qualities, and let them make mistakes and apologise.

And do your research, so you get the details right.

I hope this helped! Now, go forth and write!

(And have fun! That’s the other big rule. Do it out of love, make yourself laugh, just have fun with it!) 

One of my biggest struggles (and I’m sure yours too) is trying to study for Math.

The biggest reason for it is because unlike every other class, our notes are not set up in a way that allows us to use them as a studying tool later on. That’s why I’ve devised a list of helpful tips that will help you set up your math notes in a more study efficient way.

To start:

1.       M A T E R I A L S

This is pretty self explanatory. I simply wanted to start off with this because I think it will help people figure out what they should have ready to go. When I begin taking notes for my math course, I first bring out the following supplies: Pencil (never pen), eraser, ruler, calculator and, of course, something to write on, grid paper. I think using grid paper is key to having organized and study-material-worthy notes (lol) because more often than not you will have some sort of chart or graph to draw and we all know how great it turns out on lined paper.

2.       S T E P  B Y  S T E P

My favorite set up for my math notes is a step by step problem solving system. Every time your teacher brings out a practice problem to help explain how it works, next to the problem have a space to write down each step taken as well as a small reason as to why it was taken. Sometimes wen I look back at my notes I have a hard time figuring out what I did, why I did it, and when I even did it amongst the jumbled up mess of notes. Having that section worth of steps taken has always helped when going back to my notes.

3.       W H Y ?

The biggest problem any teacher can make is only telling their students how and not why. A student may know how to answer a specific problem but if they don’t know why they’re even taking those steps, then they didn’t actually learn anything. Knowing why you do what you do to answer a problem allows you to apply those steps to other questions and solve your way through problems set up in an unfamiliar way. That’s also why I suggest you incorporate the step by step method because it’s a designated space where you can write down the ‘why’ of every step you take.

4.       E X A M P L E S

One thing you should definitely include in your math notes is example problems. If you have notes on how to solve a problem but don’t actually have a problem on your notes solved, then does that really help? The more example problems the better! Seriously guys, a lot of times you’re given different set ups when asked to solve a question so having all those different set ups in your notes really does help. For example, let’s use the Pythagorean theorem (A+B=C). In one set up, you’re given a triangle with sides A, B, and C. In the first question you are given A and B but in the second you are given only A and C. Let’s say in another set up, you are given a word problem where you have to draw the triangle and label your sides. Having all these example problems allows you to go back to your notes and look at a variety of questions. In the end you will have a much greater understanding of the topic.

5.       V O C A B

I don’t find vocab to be as important as example problems, however you should definitely know your vocab. Teachers will refer back to everything using those vocab words so make sure you really understand them! I remember in sixth grade everyone was talking about coefficients and I was SO LOST. When someone finally told me what it meant I knew exactly what it was but because I didn’t know my vocab, I only made the unit harder to learn. Seriously guys, know your vocab.

What did you guys think? These are all tips I’ve learned after having taken so many math classes. I struggle every year with math (it’s the one class that I can never get an A in) so I just want you guys to know that there’s so many people who struggle! Even those in the studyblr community. Don’t ever feel discouraged because almost always someone else is also struggling along with you.

Don’t forget to check out the rest of my Back To School Series HERE! It includes other note-taking tips and other masterposts about getting ready for the school year!

-much love, studyessie

❣ ——— Breakfast Club Sentence Starters.

’ Don’t you want to hear my excuse? ’
’ I’m thinkin’ of tryin’ out for a scholarship. ’
’ Eat… My… Shorts. ’
’ You just bought yourself another Saturday. ’
’ I’m going to have to check my calendar. ’
’ We’ll keep going. You want another one? ’
’ Instead of going to prison you’ll come here. ’
’ I’m doing society a favor. ’
’ You got it! You got another one right there! That’s another one pal! ’
’ You really think I give a shit? ’
’ You ask me one more question and I’m beating the shit out of you. ’
’ That the last time you ever make me look bad in front of those kids, you hear me? ’
’ I have a home and I’m not about to throw it all away on some punk. ’
’ I’m gonna knock your dick in the dirt. ’
’ You threatening me? ’
’ What are you gonna do about it? You think anyone’s gonna believe you? ’
’ You think anyone is gonna take your word over mine? ’
’ You’re a lying sack of shit and everybody knows it. ’
’ Let’s find out how tough you are. ’
’ I wanna know right now how tough you are. ’
’ Just take the first shot. I’m begging you, take a shot. ’
’ That’s what I thought. You’re a gutless turd. ’
’ Why do you have to insult everybody? ’
’ I’m being honest, asshole. ’
’ I would expect you to know the difference. ’
‘ I don’t think either one of them gives a shit about me. ’
’ It’s like they use me just to get back at each other. ’
’ Do you know how popular I am? I am so popular. ’
’ Why’d you do that? ’
’ Were you truly disgusted with what I did with my lipstick? ’
’ Some of us are just better at hiding it, that’s all. ’
’ You’re a big coward. ’
’ I’m in the math club. ’
’ Well, you wouldn’t know, you don’t even know any of us. ’
’ Hey! Let’s watch the mouth, huh? ’
’ Excuse me a sec. What are you babbling about? ’
’ What do you guys do in your club? ’
’ You do everything everyone tells you to do and that is a problem. ’
’ Do you think I’d speak for you? I don’t even know your language. ’
’ Screws fall out all the time, the world is an imperfect place. ’
’ Why are you being so nice to me? ’
’ Well, would you mind telling me how you know all this about me? ’
’ You couldn’t ignore me if you tried. ’
’ If I lose my temper you’re totaled, man. ’
’ I hate having to go along with everything my friends say. ’
’ I want to congratulate you for being on time. ’
’ Excuse me, sir. I think there’s been a mistake. ’
’ I know it’s detention but I don’t think I belong in here. ’
’ I don’t have to run away and live in the street. ’
’ I’m a fucking idiot because I can’t make a lamp? ’
’ I’ll do anything sexual. I don’t need a million dollars to do it either. ’
’ I’m a nymphomaniac. ’
’ The only person I told was my shrink. ’
’ Do you have any idea how completely gross that is? ’
’ The first few times? You mean you did it more than once? ’
’ I’m not going to discuss my private life with total strangers. ’
’ Well, if you say you haven’t, you’re a prude. If you say you have, you’re a slut. ’
’ It’s kind of a double edged sword isn’t it? ’
’ I mean, don’t you want any respect? ’
’ Why don’t you just answer the question? ’
’ I’m not a nymphomaniac. I’m a compulsive liar. ’
’ Being bad feels pretty good, huh? ’
’ When you grow up, your heart dies. ’
’ It’s wrong to destroy literature. It’s such fun to read. ’
’ Hey, you’re not urinating in here, man. ’
’ Why didn’t you want me to know that you are a virgin? ’
’ Oh, obscene finger gestures from such a pristine girl. ’
’ What do you care what I think anyway? ’
’ My God, are we gonna be like our parents? ’
’ Ah, you’d never make it. You don’t have any goals. ’
’ Are you a virgin? I’ll bet you a million dollars that you are. ’
’ Have you ever kissed a boy/girl on the mouth? ’
’ By the way, that clock’s 20 minutes fast. ’
’ You whip it out and you’re dead before the first drop hits the floor. ’
’ You’re pretty sexy when you get angry. ’

Anxiety it doesn’t feel like the right word to explain what I have
It doesn’t sound like the word to explain gasping for air in an open field while thinking about getting up to go back in the car
It doesn’t sound like the right word to explain how I feel when I walk through the shops and see people whispering
or even when I see people I know
It doesn’t feel right to use one word to explain the pain I go through when I think about the exam that’s in a month
or how sick I feel when I know I have to see people again for the second time that week
Anxiety is not just panic attacks that occur because of a maths exam or before a speech in front of the class
Anxiety is not just the ache in your chest when you know you need to get out of bed to go out for the day, whether for class or work
Anxiety is the little demon that holds me tight in his hands only ever letting me see through just enough so I can see the damage he is causing
Anxiety is the demon I hope one day I can push back into a closet so I can lock the door
Though Until that day I will keep looking through his claws at the damage he will cause

Piece by Piece #11

They sat, dishes empty, stomachs full. Lance sat with his head looking at his own fiddling thumbs. Suddenly someone cleared their throats purposefully and Lance looked to the source: Coran. “I have a small announcement.” He said happily, looking to Lance. “I think I can fix your tongue.”

Here they were, everyone standing in the med-bay as Coran explained “it should just be an over-night process, My boy open your mouth please, I need to re-connect the nerves that are still there, find out the DNA coding and blast the pods pace, making it increase by roughly 60 percent.” Allura stepped in.

“Coran, I trust you, you know I do, but 60%? Are you sure about this? Worst case scenario it ages him.” She explained cautiously. Lance suddenly exhaled in annoyance and she looked back at him. “I know you loathe me Lance, but I’m trying to look out for you, if you’re in there for 8 hours,” she started doing math, “at 60% the normal speed, it’s supposed to speed up your healing by increasing the rate at which your body rebuilds, or ages.” She counted to 8 on her fingers, mumbling calculations “you’ll be 26 by the time you get out! You’ll have lost nearly 10 years of your life!” She exclaimed. Lance narrowed his eyes at her before turning to hunk, signing a short simple phrase that hunk understood.

The yellow paladin swallowed, turning back to Allura. “‘Do it.’” He translated with a soft, worried expression.

Pidge piped up “I mean it wouldn’t be that bad? He’d be the same age as Shiro.” She explained “it might be good to have two adults on the team.”

“I’m an adult.”

“Keith you’re 18, you’re an adult but you’re like a child-adult. You are in your first year of being an adult. You’re a 1 year old adult.” She argued with him and Keith rolled his eyes.

Coran finished typing different things into the pod and it opened, Lance took an eager step towards it but Coran stopped him, looking down at the man “Lance.” Again, he used Lances name and the small boy shivered “you need to understand the risks, worst case scenario. You wake up and you’ve aged to the point where your body is equivalent to that of a 26 year old, you’ll go home being 9 years older than you are.” He sighed “without your tongue.” He mumbled “I don’t know the exact percentage of a chance that this will be effective, I’ve amped up the healing properties within it, so it should be between 70-90% but that’s still not a 100.” Lances brow knitted, he turned to hunk again.

“'But it’s not 0’” hunk mumbled as Lance smiled back to Coran. The altean couldn’t help but scoff out a laugh.

“Right you are, my boy.” He hummed, giving Lance a small reassuring squeeze on his shoulder before stepping aside. “Whenever you’re ready.” He muttered apprehensively. Lance took a deep breath, as if plunging into the ocean. He started thinking, he wanted to see what he looked like one more time. He looked to hunk

“You want before and after pictures?” He asked in disbelief “Like you used to see on social media?” He repeated what Lance signed, still confused. Lance wore a shit-eating grin as he made the comparison and hunk pulled out his phone reluctantly. Lance posed, giving the camera a finger-gun, placing his other hand on his hip. A small purr of amusement bled through the group. The blue paladin was trying, he shouldn’t be that worried, it’s not like dying was a possibility. He took another breath of air before stepping in, hoisting himself into the pod. He turned and leaned back, suddenly a light blue screen was in front of him and he put his hand up to the glass with a smile as he faded, the anesthetic taking over.

Shiro was concerned, but oddly excited. Lance was going to be the same age as him, conveniently. It’s almost like some unseen force was making it that way to further the plot, he laughed to himself, could you imagine?

How much would change? How much would be the same? He woke up from an oddly-fullfilling sleep. He hadn’t slept that much in a long time but it was still early, 6am earth-time. He pouted lightly to himself, Lance still had an extra hour in the pod, he didn’t care, he was going to go now so he could see what had changed overnight.

Shiro gasped at the sight before him. He stood in front of the pod staring at a face that sort of resembled Lance, it was still him, but different. The first thing he noticed was that the man was broader. The usually lanky figure had filled out, broad shoulders, broad jaw, broad everything, it was drastic compared to the malnourished frame that had tumbled into the device. And muscles, this man had muscles to rival Shiro, he was like a smaller version of Him, except, wait was Lance taller than Shiro? He exhaled quickly at the thought, he was in the pod so that might just be the height but… Lance looked taller than Shiro. His hair was long… keith-long. The black paladin attributed it to the pod, with no-one to cut it and 9 years of development, it was to be expected. Suddenly more and more people showed up, every single one of them letting out a small gasp of surprise but not saying more. Hunk was the last one to arrive and his eyes were puffy and pink but nobody said anything, they just stood in silence, even coran didn’t have anything to say. After what felt like a million years, the pod hissed open and Lance stumbled out, yep, definitely taller than Shiro.

Coran and Keith were there to help him, he didn’t fall but he definitely needed someone to balance him. Everybody stayed quiet, not commenting on anything until Lance seemed more there. He looked at his hands, they were bigger, not much, actually they were roughly the same size, his fingers just weren’t as delicate and thin. His galra arm, it had somehow grown with him, quintessence? Black magic? Who knows, who cares. “Lance?” He perked up at his name.

Keith. “Lance? Do you… do you have a tongue?” He asked carefully. The blue paladin suddenly became very aware of a new weight in his mouth.

Lance had a tongue.

He shifted it around, realizing that there is no comfortable place in your mouth for a tongue. It’s just a nuisance. Lance smiled, it was his nuisance. He stuck out his tongue towards Keith and the red Paladins hands drew to his mouth. Everyone let out a small sigh of relief. It was Coran who spoke next.

“Can you say something?” He asked.

For the first time in Lances life he was at a loss for words.he could feel it in his throat, he could talk. You’d think that after six months of saying nothing, he’d have some kind of story to tell, but Lance Mcclain was speechless.

He looked to Coran, then to the group, realizing how much taller he was, he was the same height as Shiro, maybe an inch or two bigger. He rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head. He could speak but after so long of being scolded or hit when a sound was made, he couldn’t find words.

He had his tongue back, but somehow Lotor had still taken his voice.

…to be continued…

The horrific algebra teacher

Ok, so I’m gonna start this off with this: I genuinely like math. It makes sense and dictates the world around us. Well, as a kid going into 7th grade, I was pretty smart (not to toot my own horn or anything). But I could do most simple algebra problems in my head and get the correct answer.

Now, here’s where it starts. In 7th grade, I had a teacher named Mrs. Roach. Now, any student at my esteemed middle school, knew of Mrs. Roach. She had a reputation for being a straight-up, no-holds-barred bitch.

She taught, you guessed it, algebra.

Now, in middle school I was a quiet, shy, easily spooked kinda kid and a star student with straight A’s and B’s.

So we begin the year, and I start hearing… things about our beloved algebra teacher, Mrs. Roach.

Some kid apparently dumped raid on her desk, another gave her raid as a present, and she called my friend a derogatory slur (spik) hen she accidentally dropped her book in the hall.

I go into class with hope in my heart and nothing but a love of math.

Well, that changed pretty damn quick.

So a little background, I wear glasses but didn’t know it until the END of 7th grade. So, I couldn’t see the board. Constantly squinted at it like it was suspicious.

So what does the beloved Mrs. Roach do?

Sits me in the back of the class where I can’t see.

It gets worse throughout the year as I slowly realized she had something against me. I still to this day do not know what.

She would call me stupid and dumb in front of the whole class when I got an answer wrong. When the other kids would pick on me about whatever, she’d turn around or start doing something at her desk.

Now, here’s where it gets really bad.

One day, she gave us 30 problems for class work and another 30 for homework. I had a history project as well I was working on, so I spent a good chunk of the night working on what I didn’t finish in class and the homework. Needless to say, I finished the work, but not the homework.

I go in the next day and hand her the work from yesterday, and first words out of her mouth is “I can’t read this, rewrite it.” And she crumples all of my hardwork and throws it in the trashcan.

When I say I didn’t finish the homework, she starts straight-up yelling at me about how I “had time to do the equations” and I was “just lazy” and my parents needed to “teach me to be more responsible” or I was “never going to get anywhere in life.”

Needless to say, little depressed 7th grade me started to cry. I sobbed for a good five minutes while my friends were trying to calm me down.

Walk up to Mrs. Roach and ask if I can go to guidance.

She says no, get back to work.

So I ask if I can go to the bathroom. She says alright and I go.

Cue kid finding me bawling my eyes out in the bathroom and walking me to guidance where I sob out my story about Mrs. Roach and miss my bus. Mom has to come pick me up.

I tell mom.

Two parent-teacher meetings later, she still hasn’t stopped. I ended up passing her class with a D and moving onto Mrs. McGill, who got arrested for beating up her daughter while drunk who was beating up her son.

TL:DR: Had an algebra teacher named Mrs. Roach. She really lived up to her name.

shes not afraid: 2

au: in which y/n finds interest in the geek seated in the corner.

word count: too much 1661

“What’s the answer to this?” Calum glanced at her, sitting at her usual morning spot beside him (where Y/N would moreover distract him rather than converse). For the shortest second, he looked at the paper she had placed on the desk before diverting his attention to the flowing trees outside of the window.

She was wearing his glasses again.

Keep reading

I wanted a break from studying, so I whipped up this quick fic that I couldn’t get out of my head. NOTE: Sorry if the characters are OOC and the grammar is bad. I wrote it very quickly. Also, Al= Allura. Enjoy!

   Lana sat behind the counter at Voltron Café viciously flipping through her Engineering Math notes. It was around 1PM so an upside was that the cafe wasn’t as busy as it usually is in the morning hours, but the downside is that she has exactly 24 hours to learn three chapters worth of math so that she has a sliver of hope to pass one of Ms. Iversons notorious exams. Lana pressed her face into her textbook and groaned into it.

“Engineering?” a voice chirped above her. 

“No. It’s actually witchcraft mixed in with an ancient alien language. But, I mean, I guess you could call it Engineering.” Lana replied. 

“Yup, that sounds like one of Iversons tests.” Hunk laughed beside her, putting away freshly baked chocolate chip cookies in the baked goods display. Hunk hovered over her best friends shoulder, reading the problem she was working on. Lana quickly stole one of Hunks cookies. “Lana, all of your work is right. All you have left is to take the derivative and plug in the x.” Hunk mused. Lana quickly did as Hunk instructed her to, and, sure enough, she got the right answer.

Lana looked up at Hunk with her best puppy dog eyes, “Hunk. Bffl. My bestie for life. My sun and stars. The best human being I’ve ever known.”

“I can’t Lana, I have a chem test tomorrow that I have to study for.” Hunk pouted, fiddling with the burnt orange ribbon she always tied her thick black locks in.

Lana smiled, “It’s cool, dude. But don’t think I’m not gonna be texting you problems that I really don’t get.”

Hunk beamed, “Deal. But I know this other girl who’s in Iversons class this semester. She comes into the cafe at around this time, maybe you two can study together.” Lana knew exactly who Hunk was referring to. Dark hair, sparkling eyes, always wearing some form of leather.

“Why do I have a feeling that this girl always comes in on a red motorcycle, sits right behind me in math, and is the bane of my existence?” Lana frowned.

Hunk shrugged, escaping back into the kitchens, “I dunno about all of that, but I do know you made out with her for a good thirty seconds on New Years before dipping out.” she winked. Lana turned a brilliant scarlet, just as the door chimed.

“Welcome to Voltron Cafe!” Lana called out, already scooping whipped cream into a cup. The drink was already finished by the time the customer made it to the counter. Lana turned, hot drink in hand, to face none other than Kat Kogane.

“Whipped cream with a three shots of hot coffee for Kat?” Lana asked in her best customer service voice. Kats eyes widened at how fast Lana made her order. She didn’t even get a chance to watch the cute barista make her drink from afar.

“Y-you- You remembered my order?” Kat stammered out.

Lana shrugged, punching numbers in on the cash register, “It’s not that complicated. And don’t worry, I tried not to make it as foamy.” Kat internally winced at the mention of foam and her awful attempt in looking cool in front of her crush.

“You’re never going to let that go, huh?” Kat frowned as Lana counted out her change.

“Tell you what, Kitty Cat,” Lana smirked, handing Kat her change. “Help me learn the last two chapters for Iversons math test from hell, and i’ll let it go. Shoot, i’ll put every bad interaction we’ve ever had behind me.”

“How generous of you.” Kat deadpanned, taking a sip of her perfectly made vienna coffee.

“I know, i’m just a wonderful human being. So will you do it or not?” Lana sighed, cocking a hip to the side.

“Throw in a couple of those chocolate chip cookies and you have a deal.” Kat smirked back.  Lana threw two cookies into a bag and practically jumped over the counter with her spiral and textbook. “Deal.” Lana will deal with Al’s lecture later, right now, she needed help.

       After a long study session, Lana and Hunk cleaned and closed up the shop together. It was company policy that workers should throw out any leftover baked goods, so that fresh ones can be made in the mornings. That never did sit well with Lana. Hunk was an artist in the kitchen and her food tasted like it too. She wasn’t about to throw that art away, with only racoons to savor it! So she packed up her besties leftover treats in a box and closed the shop. Lana bid Hunk goodnight, and walked to her blue Prius. There was a cherry red motorcycle parked right next to her car. Lana couldn’t help the smile that stretched across her face.

“Hey.” she called out to the other girl, handing Kat the box that was in her hand. Kat cautiously looked at the box and looked at Lana. “It’s not filled with snakes or anything.” Lana rolled her eyes.

“Are you allowed to be giving me this?” Kat asked in a hushed voice.

   Lana laughed, “You don’t have to whisper. They’re cupcakes, not cocaine. But, yeah. It’s company policy that we through out all unsold baked goods. But I usually just take them home, or hand them out to other poor starving college students like myself.” Kat only nodded her head, unsure of what to say. “This was more of a thank you, for agreeing to teach me math. And giving me a sliver of hope for Iversons test tomorrow.” Lana blabbered. Kat turned to put the box of treats on her motorcycle and pulled out a pen from her pocket. Kat grabbed Lanas hand and scribbled her number onto her palm. Kat silently prayed to whatever God was listening to her that her hands weren’t sweaty. It was Lanas turn to look at the palm of her hand, then Kat, then back to her hand.

“It’s my number,” Kat explained quickly, “in case you have any more questions.” Lana stared at Kat with wide blue eyes, and they narrowed immediately. Kats face burned in embarrassment. Did Lana know that she had a massive crush on her? That Kat was dying to give the pretty brunette with crystal blue eyes her number? Shiro always told her she was a shit liar, but Kat thought she had a pretty solid alibi!  

“Oh hell no.” Lana finally spoke. A part of Kat died inside. “I will not let you beat me in the flirting department! That was smooth as hell Kitty Kat, but i’ll woo your socks off. Just you watch!” Lana called, walking to the drivers side of her car. Kat let out a breath, and chuckled.

“Yeah, yeah lover girl. How about you focus on aceing our math test tomorrow?” Kat called, mounting her bike. Lana rolled down her passenger side window to wink at Kat before bidding her goodnight. Kat couldn’t help the stupid grin that was stretched across her face the entire ride home.


((V: I AM LITERALLY SCREAMING RIGHT NOW OKAY, THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL!!! ASDFHUJIARLEKWDSFHUGIJRKLFDMS!!! I seriously was not expecting this when i logged in today!! Dude!! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!! 

Lana is SO ON POINT!!! Like, i couldn’t even portray her better than this!!! And it’s so funny omg, I already wanna doodle this omg I love it so much!!! Everyone is so great and aahh this is perfect!!! Thank you for this!!!!!

Y: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAa THIS IS TOO CUTE OH GOSHHHHHHHH!!! Thank you for this this was just so cute and honestly made my entire day! I was screaming at Kat this whole time when you mentioned her fuck up like “GOD KAT WHAT IS YOUR DEAL???” 

This is absolutely beautiful and super cute! I loved the way you portrayed Kat as this bumbling awkwardly in love idiot! Like that’s what I’ve been trying to get her to come across as this whole time and you’ve done it so well! SO MUCH BETTER THAN I COULD HAVE OMG THANK YOU!!!!

Thank you so much for this this was just so wonderful! Thank you for putting up with us and our shenanigans and inconsistent updates (mostly me sorry about that yo school kicking my ass im sorry) 

We promise to update much more in the future!!!!))

My Reasoning

As you can see, the GDP of Germany is 3.356 trillion USD

The GDP of the Netherlands is 752.5 billion USD

3.356 trillion + 752.5 billion = 4.108 trillion USD

and if we split 50/50 in the divorce 

4.108 trillion/2 = 2.054 trillion

which puts me in fourth for the largest GDP in Europe and is a

2.054 trillion - 752.5 billion = 1.301 trillion

1.301 trillion/752.5 billion = 1.72

1.72 x 100 = 172% increase of my GDP


Originally posted by animated-gif-library

I got a perfect idea for the final scene of teen wolf, should we not get a flash forward. Ready?
The song: The Sound by The 1975
Snippet: the last chorus probably edited a bit but the only lyrics would be the “well I know when you’re around because I know the sound, I know the sound of your heart”
This scene is all about the core four. It flashes through each of them and what they’re doing after high school. Each flash is over one or two verses of the chorus
1. Malia stepping out of her car and looking at some piece of wilderness with a smile on her face
2. Lydia confidently stepping into a large lecture hall, crazy math theorems on the board, she smiles. Pans down to her phone with a text from Stiles “have a good first day, love you ❤” she quickly texts back “thanks, love you too”
3. Stiles training with a smile on his face, looks down to receive the text from Lydia
4. Scott working in a college lab, eagerly taking notes and smiling
It then cuts to the picture of the four of them from 6a. The background changes around it four times. This is over the last two verses of the chorus where the music is less intense and it focuses more on the words.
1. Clipped to the visor of Malia’s car
2. On a decorated picture board next to a picture of Lydia and Stiles and an MIT flag
3. Framed on a desk next to a computer and some criminology textbooks
4. Framed on night stand next to biology books and a UC Davis mug
Cut to black and roll credits

I’m not crying you’re crying

Not about the Fight

Request: Batmom and Bruce get into an argument (nothing too major) but before they have the chance to reconcile, she gets into an accident or something and isn’t immediately a - okay. Basically batfam’s reactions and maybe Clark could make an appearance? 😊

“Thanks for visiting me Clark!” You smiled weakly at the man who just entered the white room if the hospital.

“You know, Bruce’s guilt is eating him out.”

You chuckled at Clark’s statement. He was such a sweetheart, always trying to solve yours and Bruce’s problems.

“It wasn’t that big of a fight you know” you stated. Your chest still hurt from your broken ribs. “I didn’t even leave because of it. I heard Tim saying his maths notebook was filled so I kinda drive downtown try buy him one. I should have informed them though”

“Hmmm” Clark moaned in response. “You know they were so worried. Tim had a panic attack and Dick almost did too.”

You hung your head low at this. You hated seeing, or learning that the boys weren’t good. You loved them with all your freaking heart and the possibility of you dying only made you feel worse. The boys loved you back very deeply; you were the only mother figure to them and they wouldn’t ever forgive themselves if anything happened to you. You could only imagine how Bruce felt.

He would think he was the only one to blame. He thought the fight between you two had caused you to leave like this, without even saying goodbye. He was so terrified when he saw about your accident on the TV. He wanted to run to you and take you in arms and never let go. He didn’t want to lose another person he cared and adored so dearly. His soul wouldn’t be able to take it. So the moment he saw you sleeping from the anesthesia in the hospital, with the doctors saying you should be up in some hours he felt bith relieved and scared.

Scared cause good things don’t usually happen to him, and relieved you were still alive. He thanked God he still had you.

“I love Bruce but he won’t let me tell him that the fight didn’t make me want to leave, Clark. Sometimes he’s too stubborn…”

Clark chuckled “I know he is, but what can we do? He’s Bruce Wayne. He wouldn’t have gotten where he is on any level if he wasn’t stubborn. My advice is to try again to talk to him” Clark said, looking at the flowers had brought you.

“You’re right. Thanks Clark. I’ll try again. Now tell me, how’s Jon?”

@whovianayesha @jadedhillon@daisyboobear@too-many-fandoms666@supernovares@memento-amare@bitch-jerk-assbut-idigits67@sad-horchata@solis200213@speedypan
Story of Another Us

Word Count: 3286

A/M: A story about the one who got away. I got inspired to write this from a prompt post with the quote: “I never should have let you go”. Also I think about the song Story of Another Us by 5sos a lot with this, so I’ll say it’s inspired a bit by it too cause I titled it and why not. It’s an awesome song. There is a Part Two to this, so I recommend you read it because it’s the conclusion of this story. And as always, hope you like it, tell me if you do Xx

You stared at your feet as you waited for the coach bus to pull up. You still had a ways to go to get home. One that was still a two hour bus ride away from where you stood. You waited alone looking carefully through the thick fog that surrounded the place to see if anyone was nearby. But no one showed up. The strong and cold moisture in the night air filled your nose and stuck to your skin and hair. You just hoped the bus would come soon. 

Luckily a moment later you saw something break through the fog. Headlights of the bus shone on you as the bus pulled up to the curb directly in front of you. You moved to the side watching as three people walked off, and saw as they quickly disappeared into the fog. 

“Getting on?”, The driver asked as he called for your attention. 

“Yeah” You answered, climbing up the steps. You asked him if this was the bus that went to your destination, and he nodded giving you a tired smile. His salt and pepper hair and beard aged the man, and you wondered how old he was. He seemed the age to retire, yet here he was driving a coach bus at 1 in the morning. 

I guess work isn’t done for everyone,  you thought to yourself.

You walked carefully down the narrow aisle of the bus, with your back pack on your back  you didn’t want to accidentally hit it on any chair or person. 

You looked to the people who were on the bus, all of them either sleeping or watching a  movie on their phone. You looked for an empty two seater to occupy, and found one three rows from the back. The back of the bus from what you could tell was completely empty. You rushed to it and sighed a sigh of relief. 

You were finally going home

You lazily rolled your head to look out the window. With the dark sky and thick fog you could barely tell what it looked like outside anymore, as the driver had driven away from your stop. 

You thought of what you wanted to do. Nap? Play a game on your phone? Watch a movie? Listen to music? 

You reached for your headphones in your pocket and unravelled it, as you planned to figure out what you wanted to do when you plugged it into your phone. But as you did, you heard your name be called by an unfamiliar voice across from where you sat. 

You were startled with surprise, not recognizing anyone on the bus or even know there was anyone in the seats behind you, you didn’t expect your name to be called. 

You turned around and in the seat behind yours, in the row across, you found a face you never thought you’d see again. One you hadn’t seen in years. 

Keep reading

Based on that one richjake post i made a while back. I seriously meant this to be purely fluff and like it’s not super angsty but there’s a quick mention of some internalized biphobia (technically it’s coming from the deactivated squip) and then there’s also mentions of some pretty intense stress coming from Jake about his busy schedule + parents. 

They’ve got each others back though don’t worry.

It takes a ridiculously long time for Rich to pick up on it. Sometimes when they’re hanging out Jake will just sit down. Rich doesn’t like to sit down, he’s already short as hell and not to mention that it’s only when Jake sits down Rich actually looks taller than him. So Jake sits down, on benches, on the bed when they’re hanging out in either one of their bedrooms, in some rare cases he’ll sit down on fences if they’re comfortable enough. Rich doesn’t get it. Jake is an active guy, he likes walking around, likes to be constantly in motion. Even when he’s standing still he’s shifting his weight from one foot to another. So Rich doesn’t pick up on it.

Jake sits down on his bed and looks up at Rich, he looks sort of hopeful and Rich can not for the life of him understand why, or what he’s meant to do.

”What’cha looking at?” he says nervously and swallows the wave of anxiety that comes rushing whenever he feels like he doesn’t know what’s going on. He doesn’t exactly want the Squip back per se… but it’s times like these when he remembers why he got it in the first place. The Squip would tell him what to do in this situation.

The Squip would tell you to leave immediately, dating boys won’t get you anywhere with the popular kids. He hopes he doesn’t visibly flinch as the voice is suddenly there, present in his mind and he hates that his response to it isn’t just I don’t give a fuck,  but rather, Jake is a popular kid. Dating him does exactly zero damage to my rep.

If Jake notices the internal debate Rich is having with the voice in his head he doesn’t comment on it. ”Nothin’,” he says instead and it takes a few seconds for Rich to get back enough in the present moment to remember he was the one who had asked a question, ”just thinking.” He smiles up at Rich as if his words don’t make the lump of anxiety in Rich’s stomach grow larger by the second.

“Right, right, ” Rich says, nodding quickly and turning away to go through the shelves holding all of Jake’s comics, as if he hasn’t read them all long ago. He trips over his own shoelaces on his way and he’s barely steadied himself before Jake comes up behind him wrapping his arms around Rich and holding him securely against his front. Rich immediately relaxes and is able to take a deep breath.

“You okay?” Jake asks, and there’s genuine concern lacing his voice, reminding Rich that Jake isn’t playing any games, he doesn’t have to jump through any hoops for Jake to think he’s cool enough.

“Yeah… yeah I’m good.” He leans back towards Jake and puts his hands over Jakes’. They don’t move for a while after that. They’re good.

He’s stressed out. Jake is ridiculously stressed out and Rich doesn’t know what to do about it. They’re back in Jake’s room, with the taller pacing back and forth while Rich stands a few feet away trying to find a chance to calm him down, to be of some kind of use.

“Jake-” he starts softly but Jake doesn’t hear him or he doesn’t care. 

“I don’t know how the hell I’m supposed to get it all done! i’m failing math, the theatre is so much more work than i thought and dude don’t even get me started on football!” Jake’s voice is becoming more and more frantic as he rants on, his voice is uneven and Rich is afraid he might be more emotional about it all than he lets on. Jake doesn’t mind letting people know he’s frustrated, it’s when he’s feeling genuinely worried and anxious that he’s scared to become vulnerable. 

“Jakey,” Rich tries again but before he can continue Jake stops pacing and whips around to look at Rich. 

“-and can you believe,” he interrupts, his voice growing in volume until he’s yelling, “I got a fucking letter from mom! You know what it said? Maybe a “hey honey how are you doing?” or possibly a quick “i hope you’re good”`? No, she couldn’t care less! She doesn’t give a shit about me she just made some dumb-ass comment about keeping my grades up and the house in shape! As if she has any right to harass me about this shit when she’s the one who left!” His voice finally betrays him on the last word, it cracks and breaks Rich’s heart in the same second. 

Jake stands there for a few seconds and then seems to realize what he said, seems to realize who he’s really been yelling at since they came home. It’s like someone snapped their fingers and now jake is suddenly back in his body. His face goes slack, the anger drains from his eyes and it kills Rich that he looks so guilty. He backs away slumping down on his bed, looking up at Rich desperately as if he’s pleading with Rich to fix things. To hold him together. Suddenly the pieces click together in Rich’s mind. 

“I’m sorry,” Jake says, voice trembling, “I’m sorry,” he repeats, “I just don’t know what to do-” it’s the tear that rolls down his cheek on the last word that spurs Rich into action and he’s there standing in front of Jake before the other has the time to wipe the offending drop away. Rich cups Jake’s face in his hands, gently brushing the tear away and pressing a kiss to his head. 

“It’s okay…” he whispers, “you’re okay, you’re gonna be alright…” he continues as Jake tips his head forward to rest on under Rich’s chin. He feels Jake’s arms wrap around his waist and he steps closer so that he can envelop Jake in his own arms, standing in the V of Jake’s legs he continues to softly whisper words of comfort. He doesn’t know if Jake can hear him or if he’s present enough to understand him but something tells him it doesn’t quite matter as long as he just keeps holding Jake the way he is right then. “It’s gonna be perfectly fine,” I’ll help you study for math, Michael can probably help you as well and you know Christine won’t mind cutting you some slack with the theatre, you can still be involved and not have it take over everything else.” 

It takes a few minutes but after a while Jake begins to relax, the tension draining out of his body, he’s still holding onto Rich and Rich is reluctant to let go himself. “You okay,” he asks instead.

“Yeah…I’m good,” Jake replies with a sniff. 

“You need anything?”

“No… no this is good- perfect.”  

They’re good.