#Maryland All-Age School | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

afeelgoodblog · 1 year

Text

The Best News of Last Week - April 3, 2023

Kentucky Legalizes Medical Marijuana in Bipartisan Vote After Decade of Failed Attempts

The state of Kentucky has legalized the use of medical marijuana. The bill received final passage on Thursday. Democratic Gov. Andy Beshear signed it into law Friday morning after a decade of failed attempts in the state legislature.

The news makes Kentucky at least the 38th state in the U.S. to legalize medical marijuana.

Now Indiana is surrounded by weed states. The encirclement is complete 😂

2. The Maryland House of Delegates voted Saturday to approve the Trans Health Equity Act

The Maryland House of Delegates voted Saturday to approve the Trans Health Equity Act — a bill that just a year ago disappeared from the chamber’s agenda ahead of a floor vote.

The bill would require Maryland Medicaid, beginning on Jan. 1, 2024, to provide coverage for additional gender-affirming treatments, which are currently disallowed in the state’s plan but commonly covered by private insurance. The expanded treatments include hormone therapy, hair alteration, voice therapy, physical alterations to the body, and fertility preservation.

3. FDA approves over-the-counter Narcan. Here's what it means

The approved nasal spray is the best-known form of naloxone. It can reverse overdoses of opioids, including street drugs such as heroin and fentanyl and prescription versions including oxycodone.

Making naloxone available more widely is seen as a key strategy to control the nationwide overdose crisis. Effects begin within two minutes when given intravenously, and within five minutes when injected into a muscle. The medicine can also be administered by spraying it into a person's nose.

4. Boston expands tuition-free community college program to all residents

Boston has expanded its tuition-free community college program to include all city residents regardless of age, income or immigration status.

Starting this fall, any city resident will be eligible to pursue an associate’s degree or certificate at one of six partnering local institutions without paying to attend. The program also includes a $250 stipend for incidental expenses each semester for up to three years, and up to $2,500 of debt relief for students whose account balances are keeping them from re-enrolling.

5. First cheetah cubs born in India since extinction 70 years ago

India has welcomed the birth of four cheetah cubs - more than 70 years after the animals were declared officially extinct there.India's environment minister announced the good news, calling it a "momentous event".

The country has been trying to reintroduce the big cats for decades, and last year brought eight cheetahs over from Namibia as part of the plan. Another 12 cheetahs were brought to India from South Africa last month.

6. BBC education show in Afghanistan helps children banned from school

The BBC has launched a new education programme for children in Afghanistan who are banned from school.It is aimed at children aged 11 to 16, including girls whose secondary education has been stopped by the ruling Taliban.

The weekly programme is called Dars, which means lesson in Dari and Pashto, Afghanistan's official languages. It is hosted by BBC Afghan female journalists who were evacuated from Kabul during the 2021 Taliban takeover.

Each new weekly half-hour episode of Dars will air four times a day, Saturday to Friday, on the newly launched BBC News Afghanistan channel.

7. A Trans Creator Has Raised Over 1.5 Million for Trans Healthcare on TikTok Live

Transgender TikTokers are celebrating Trans Day of Visibility by raising over $1.5 million for gender-affirming care around the world.

Mercury Stardust — a DIY TikToker and trans advocate who calls herself the “Trans Handy Ma’am” — raised $120,000 last year in a livestream for the mutual aid nonprofit Point of Pride, which maintains funds for surgeries, hormone therapy, and free binders and gaffs. This year, Stardust and cohost Jory, a.k.a. AlluringSkull, set themselves a goal of raising $1 million in a planned 30-hour live stream…and then smashed that milestone less than six hours after starting the stream Thursday evening.

----

I have started a Youtube channel with wholesome videos I can find on the internet. Check it out :)

That's it for this week :)

This newsletter will always be free. If you liked this post you can support me with a small kofi donation:

Buy me a coffee ❤️

Also don’t forget to reblog

#best news of last week

436 notes · View notes

callsign-phoenix · 1 year

Text

I wrote this for my 1.5k celebration, I hope you like it!

It is a Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x gn!reader blurb requested by @footprintsinthesxnd.

Thank you @topguncortez for proofreading!

The prompt requested is: “You’re the only one I really want to be there”.

Warnings: bad relationship to his parents

Being with Jake Seresin was challenging on many levels, but one of the biggest ones was Jake’s parental issues.

Jake’s family had strict opinions and they were very proud as well.

There was rarely a time when they tolerated someone else’s view on things, or tried to convince them otherwise.

In that manner any of their children wasn’t allowed to get out of line, especially not their first born, Jake.

They hadn’t liked that Jake fell for someone as ordinary as you.

You weren’t from a rich family, like he was.

They had tried to convince him to change his mind repeatedly, being petty to you whenever he brought you along to family gatherings.

You had met Jake at a young age, when you were still in high school.

Your relationship was going strong and steady for years.

You supported him and what he wanted to do, which was a huge contrast to his parents.

Ever since Jake was little, he had played with jets and he had never given his dream up to one day become a pilot.

While he was dreaming of flying jets, his father had already decided that Jake should follow in his footsteps and serve in the Army instead.

His father had served 20 years in the Army before retiring and becoming a politician, a fate Jake was to share.

But he had vehemently refused.

Jake had made clear from the get-go that he wanted to fly jets for a living, but you needed parents that actually listened to you to realise that.

When he was old enough to voice his wish he was shot down time and time again, in angry discussions or screaming matches that didn’t lead anywhere.

His father wanted him to join the Army, telling Jake that he could still be a pilot, but Jake wanted to fly F-18s, not helicopters.

You were the only one who stood by Jake’s side as he began the process of applying to the US Naval Academy.

You helped him pull all-nighters as he studied for the SATs, you sat on his back while he was doing push-ups, and helped make sure he didn’t talk too much about football during his mock-interviews.

You were the first one that Jake ran to when he got the letter in the mail with that shiny blue emblem on it.

It was hard when Jake moved away to Anapolis, Maryland, nearly half way across the country.

You decided to stay in your hometown for school, but the two of you kept in contact via endless phone and video calls.

You both planned out school break trips to see each other when you could, and when Jake invited you to graduation, you made sure to take a whole week off of work to do so.

You chose your outfit carefully and made sure to look your best, excited to see him again and so proud of what he had accomplished already.

He picked you up from the airport and after a long hug and kiss he brought you to stay at his place.

You didn’t talk about his parents even though the topic weighed heavily on you, because you knew he was proud and hopeful enough to have invited them.

When graduation day came you found yourself the only one there for Jake.

While you tried your best to keep a smile on your face Jake could sense your sadness from a mile away.

After you had tapped him out of formation, he wrapped you up in a tight hug, placing a hand on your cheek, and gently running his thumb over your skin.

“You’re the only one I really want to be there”, he whispered against your lips, and the apology you wanted to whisper was swallowed by his lips on yours.

tagging: @starkleila @mayhem24-7forever @green-socks @letsfvckingdance @shadeds-library @kmsryles343 @yespolkadotkitty @whateverbagman @neptunes-curse @sweetheartlizzie07 @top-gun-rooster @iloveprettyboysblog @ateliefloresdaprimavera @imjess-themess @littlebadariell @angstyjellybean @marchingicenotes7 @midget713 @supernaturaldawning @gspenc @adorephina @gigisimsonmars @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @bespinnn @malindacath @aerangi @kassieesworld @kwanimations @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @marvelandotherfandomimagines @luckyladycreator2 @mavericksicybabe @kendra-rose @desert-fern @mavrellover91 @allivingstone01 @rhettabbotts @withakindheartx @trikigirl271 @cherrycola27 @bonitanightmxres @ratcatcher2world @glowingtree @wingmanvenus @classyunknownlover @oliviah-25 @natasharomanoffisbaebby

(please tell me if you want to be added to the taglist, or use this link)

#jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin imagine #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin #hangman top gun #top gun hangman

201 notes · View notes

morbidology · 7 months

Text

Forest Haven is arguably one of the most infamous institutions but for all the wrong reasons. Built in Laurel, Maryland, in 1925, Forest Haven was geared towards teaching patients life skills, including tending crops, sowing, and milking cows. It was originally known as the “District Training School for the Mentally Retarded” and started with good intentions. In fact, it was hailed as being state of the art. However, it wouldn’t be long until funding was cut and abuse and violence would be rife within the institution.

In 1974, orphans from a nearby orphanage that closed ere sent to Forest Haven. While these children had no mental disabilities, they were treated as patients. At an age when environment can have an impact on a child’s upbringing, it isn’t much surprise these children soon became products of their upbringing. At one point, Forest Haven had over 1000 patients. The director even estimates that 1/3rd of the patients didn’t belong there and had just been sent there by their families as they had become a burden.

There were accounts of physical, mental, and even sexual abuse at the institute. Patients were often locked in rooms completely devoid of furniture in nothing other than a diaper. Beds were often stripped of bedding and soaked in urine. Countless patients died from choking on food as they were often force fed while lying down. When a patient died, they would be passed through a basement morgue before being buried in a mass unmarked grave. Hundreds of patients died over the years and one report even said that many were subjected to human experimentation.

Forest Haven eventually closed in 1991 at the orders of a federal judge.

#History #Mental Health

82 notes · View notes

redshift-13 · 7 months

Text

The U.S. does a surprisingly poor job of protecting its children. Over a quarter million children have been married in the U.S. in the last two decades, even though we know that child marriage has deeply harmful consequences. Additionally, 160,000 children experience physical punishment in U.S. schools each year. Thousands of children have been condemned to die in prison through life without parole sentences. And children are exposed to dangerous conditions while working in agriculture, sometimes with deadly consequences. The U.S. is the only country in the world that has failed to ratify the Convention on the Rights of the Child, the most widely ratified human rights treaty in history. The treaty addresses children's rights to education, health, protection from violence and exploitation, and a broad array of other rights. Ratification would require the U.S. to strengthen its protection of children. But in the U.S., many of these rights are left up to individual states, not the federal government. Last year, Human Rights Watch published a scorecard that measured U.S. state compliance with key children's rights established in international law. We looked at child marriage, corporal punishment, child labor, and juvenile justice because these key measures can affect a child for the rest of their lives. Not a single U.S. state got an A or B when assessed on these issues. Only four states—New Jersey, Ohio, Iowa, and Minnesota—managed a C grade. Every other state got a D or F. We just updated that scorecard, and are pleased to report marginal improvement. Over the past year, Alaska and West Virginia enacted laws to limit child marriage, and Connecticut and Vermont fully banned the practice. New York and New Hampshire raised the minimum age of juvenile jurisdiction closer to the international standard of 14. New Mexico, Illinois, and Minnesota banned sentencing children to life without parole. And Colorado and Maryland banned corporal punishment in certain school settings. In all, 11 states enacted positive reforms over the past year.

...

Meanwhile, in Florida:

#children's rights #country comparisons #state comparisons #child labor

14 notes · View notes

cozyaliensuperstar7 · 21 days

Text

Brittney Spencer 👑🤠

Brittney Spencer (born September 8, 1988) is an American country singer–songwriter. Spencer received notable attention following a viral Twitter video showing Spencer singing a cover of a song by the Highwomen. The video drew praise from fellow country artists and prompted the release of her first extended play (EP) titled Compassion (2020). She has also released several singles, including 2021's "Sober & Skinny". Spencer has since performed on the Country Music Association Awards and has embarked on a world tour.

Spencer is a native of Baltimore, Maryland. She developed an interest in music from singing in church. "Church, for me, was very cultural. It’s spiritual, but also very cultural. Families like mine, we couldn’t really afford singing lessons or anything like that, so I just sang in the church all the time," she told Baltimore magazine. She was raised as an African Methodist Episcopal. Spencer also came from a musical family. Her father was part of a quartet band. A friend from church got Spencer interested in The Chicks, which developed her interest in country music. From there, she developed interest in artists like Taylor Swift. She attended magnet schools in her teen years, including the George Washington Carver Center for Arts and Technology. During this time she learned to play guitar and piano. Spencer also took vocal lessons from a coach who taught her how to sing in a recording studio. She began by singing background vocals for R&B and gospel artists including Jason Nelson. In February 2013, Spencer moved to Nashville, Tennessee to pursue country music full-time.

Tanner Adell 👑🤠

Tanner Adell is an American country music singer-songwriter. Her debut album, Buckle Bunny, was released in 2023.

Adell was born in Lexington, Kentucky, and was adopted and raised in Manhattan Beach, California. She spent summers growing up in Star Valley, Wyoming. She learned to play piano and taught herself guitar, then studied commercial music at Utah Valley University. She was raised in the the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and completed two years of missionary service in Stockholm.

Tiera Kennedy 👑🤠

Reyna Roberts 👑 🤠

Reyna Roberts is an American country singer-songwriter and pianist. She is known for her July 2020 debut single, "Stompin' Grounds" as well as multiple appearances on NFL's Monday Night Football.

One of the few visible Black women in country music, Roberts is known for advocating for "acknowledging the past" of country music, which includes acknowledging Black artist mentors such as Lesley Riddle, and learning the history of the banjo and the term "Music City" for Nashville.

Roberts was born in Alaska and raised in Alabama and California. Both of her parents were combat engineers in the Army. She was born two months premature, weighing two pounds; when her family heard that she might have cognitive, physical, visual and vocal developmental issues, they used music to aid her brain development.

The first time Roberts performed music was at the age of three, when her mother took her to a karaoke bar in Alaska. When she was 10 years old, her family lost their home but paid for a storage unit to store her piano so Roberts could continue practicing the instrument. She continued playing in the family storage unit for three years.

Throughout high school Roberts competed on her high school wrestling team, and she began songwriting to woo the captain of the team. She recorded the resulting song, "Lying to Myself," in 2014. In 2016, she released the EP "The Beginning," which included the song "I'm Coming For Ya" and went on the Spring High School Nation Tour. She toured around the U.S. and opened for the Plain White T's.

#brittney spencer #tanner adell #tiera kennedy #reyna roberts #black country queens #beyoncé #blackbiird #act ii #Spotify

6 notes · View notes

topguncortez · 1 year

Text

Day 26: No One Left Behind ➢prompt: "Why did you save me?" ➢character: Robert "Bob" Floyd ➢warnings: hazing, underaged drinking, toxic parents, near drowning, fear of water ➢word count: 3.3k ➢masterlist | whumptober | library

Bob never liked large bodies of water. He grew up in a landlocked town in the middle of nowhere Wyoming. The only things to do in the summer were to run in the backyard through a sprinkler or to go to the pond. Everyone went to the lake, it was the place to be during the unforgiving summers. Kids, teens and adults would spend their days on the sand shores, fishing, sunbathing or playing in the water. Bob didn’t like the lake because of what lurked underneath the surface. He had seen the pictures of the large fish that fishermen pulled out of there. He had heard the rumors and the legends of different ghouls and demons that supposedly haunted the waters and would pull unsuspecting swimmers into its depths. But what really sealed the deal for Bob hating the lake, was when his younger brother pushed him off the family pontoon.

His parents didn’t realize Bob had gone overboard for several moments, he usually was behind them in the back, silent and holding on to his lifejacket tightly. But it was Bob’s older sister who shouted that the then six year old Bob was in the middle of the lake.

“Mom! Bob fell over!” She shouted.

“Oh my god!” His mother shouted and his dad quickly turned the boat around. Bob was luckily wearing a life jacket, but was kicking and splashing around, trying to get the lake grass off of his legs. His glasses had fallen off and were sinking towards the bottom, which caused more panic as he couldn’t see what was going on. When his father got close to him, he jumped into the water and swam over to where he was. Bob clung to him, his hands tightening around the shirt he wore.

“Kick your goddamn legs, Rob,” His father cursed as he swam them back to the boat. He lifted up the little boy into his mother’s arms and Bob clung on tightly to her.

“Oh my baby boy,” She cooed, and dried him with a towel, “I’m so sorry we didn’t notice.”

“Well maybe if he would fucking talk,” His dad cursed again, stepping up onto the platform of the boat, “Fucking say something next time or swim your ass back to shore.”

“David!”

“Well?” His father shrugged, “Kid needs to learn to do something for himself. Quit fucking babying him.”

Ever since that day, Bob did all he could to avoid water. But that seemed to be a bit of a paradox when he joined the Navy. His dad even laughed at him when he came home with his enlistment packet in his hands.

“You can’t fucking look at water without panicking. The fuck did you join the Navy for?”

“To help pay for school,” Bob said softly, “And they’ll teach me at boot camp.”

Which was true. His father had told him from a young age that they would never be able to pay for his college. That he would have to figure it out by himself. His older siblings didn’t go to college. His two older sisters MaryAnn and Elizabeth both married local ranchers. His brother Michael was set to take over the family ranch. But Bob was determined to not be stuck in no named Wyoming for the rest of his life.

And Bob was right, they did teach him how to swim in boot camp. It wasn’t beautiful, but he could pass the swim test and keep himself above water. But Bob knew that he wasn’t going to willingly jump into the pool and go for a swim. It also helped that he was wearing a life jacket the whole time, which gave him some comfort. After boot camp, Bob had gotten his acceptance letter into the Naval Academy. His mother cried when he told her, and didn’t stop crying until after they dropped him off in Maryland. Bob had never been to the east coast before, nor spent this much time away from his family. What kept him going in boot camp was the fact that he would be home in ten weeks. Now he was moving across the country.

Bob had three roommates in his tiny four person dorm; Geco, Tank, and Hermes. They were almost the polar opposite of Bob. Each of them were nearly 6’2 and built. Hermes currently holds the class record for fastest PT test. Though Bob couldn’t compete with them physically, he competed with them in the classroom. They envied the way Bob just understood everything that was being taught in their classes, and hardly had to study for exams to do perfect. Bob had offered to help them study, but they all shot it down. Most people in the class had envied Bob, and labeled him as the enemy, except Y/N.

Y/N, like Bob, was also on the outskirts of their class. She was a legacy student, her dad being the current commander of the pacific fleet. She had gone by her mother’s maiden name, so she could make a name for herself fair and square, but it was unmistakable who’s daughter she was, with her bright blue eyes and blonde hair. Oh, and the way she was ice cold. Unlike Bob, she didn’t let the whispers and the jokes bother her. She let them bounce off her back and continued on with her studies.

“Hey, Frost,” Hermes said. Bob was currently in the library, sitting att a table across the room from where Frost was. She had been there as long as Bob had been, her nose in a text book, “We’re having a little party this weekend at the SigEp house. You should come.”

“And why would I do that?” Y/N asked.

“Cause I’ll be there,” He smirked and held his hands out. Bob watched as Frost rolled her eyes and turned around, “Come on, don’t be so cold,” She continued to ignore him, which was something Hermes couldn’t stand. Bob watched as he clenched his jaw, “Fine. Just so you know, the only way you’re here is because your dad is fucking Iceman Kazansky. He probably couldn’t stand having a fuck up as a daughter and had to do some chairty work.”

Bob’s eyes widened at Hermes' words, and waited to see what she would do. He watched her body shake as she gripped her pencil in a vice grip, causing the wood to splinter. Hermes also watched her, and let out a laugh seeing no response from her, and advised his little posse to leave her table. Bob waited for them to leave, before standing up from his own table and walked over to her.

“You deserve to be here,” Bob said softly. Y/N looked up at him and his heart faltered a bit, seeing the tears in her eyes. His jaw dropped and he quickly dug in his backpack, looking for the packet of kleenex he usually kept on him. Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed as she watched him dig around in his bag, before stretching his shaky hand out and offering her the kleenex. She smiled at him and took it.

“Thank you, Bob,” Y/N said.

“You know who I am?”

“Of course, Bob Floyd, political science major. You sit in front of me during intro to strat,” Y/N said and packed up her books. Bob watched her as she moved quickly, “Thanks again. And I’ll see you at the party.”

“Y-Yeah!” Bob called out to her. Once she was out of the library Bob cursed himself, “What the hell? You’re not going to the party. You don’t party.”

— — —

The music was too loud for Bob’s liking. He didn’t understand how people would like their music this loud. He couldn’t even understand what was being said. The house was hot and stuffy, with people all over the place. Bob found a corner of the kitchen that was somewhat uncrowded and close to the table of snacks. He was nursing a cup of sprite that he had poured himself and snacking on the various mixes. Bob had never been to a party before.

His eyes scanned the kitchen, looking for Y/N. He knew that she was either already here or showing up late. He had watched Mean Girls before coming to the party, to somewhat understand what to expect. Apparently, you didn’t show up to parties at the time the host said they started, so Bob waited nearly an hour before arriving. He also felt slightly overdressed in his khaki pants, button up shirt, and vans. His roommates were wearing jeans and tshirts, and Bob made a mental note to go shopping for some.

“Do my eyes deceive me?” Bob turned around and let out a breath, “Bobby Floyd? At a party.”

“Hangman,” Bob sighed, “How are you?”

“How am I?” Hangman said, “I am magnificent. How are you? And why are you here?”

“I was invited,” Bob said.

Hangman raised his eyebrows in surprise. Jake Seresin was two years older than Bob, and had met him during recruitment over the summer, and was one of the peer leaders in his tactile movement and strategy class. Jake was also the quarterback for the football team, and had perfectly styled blonde hair and a bright smile. Bob had tried to hide in the back of the class, but Jake easily picked him out of the class, and told him he was “taking him under his wing”. Bob took in the sight of Jake’s outfit, dark blue jeans, a fitted black t-shirt, and cowboy boots.

“So really, why are you here?” Jake asked again.

Bob opened his mouth to answer, when he heard Y/N’s voice enter the kitchen. She walked right past him, a couple girls right behind her. His blue eyes watched as she greeted some of the other party go-ers and poured herself a drink. Jake followed Bob’s eyesight and smirked.

“The admiral’s daughter!? Way to go Bobby Boy,” Jake clapped him on the back, “I knew you didn’t just decide to show up cause you were “invited”.”

“Why is it so hard to believe-”

“Go talk to her,” Jake said.

“Oh no, I-I can’t,” Bob shook his head, “She’s with. . . him.” Jake squinted his eyes and looked back up at where Y/N was now being crowded by Hermes. She looked uncomfortable as he put his hands on her hips and tried to pull her back into his chest.

“The dude trying to force himself on her? Hermes? Nah, she’s not into him.”

“Well, he looks into her.”

“Bob, trust me, she’s not into him,” Jake said.

“How do you know?”

“Cause she’s walking over here right now,” Bob lifted his head up and his eyes widened as she walked over with determination. Jake took a step back as Y/N put herself by Bob, and wrapped a hand around his waist.

“Babe! You’re here!” She smiled and kissed his cheek, “I told you, Adrian, my boyfriend is here.”

“My fucking roommate? Next you’re going to tell me that his crying at night is actually cause you’re giving him head and not cause he misses his mom,” Hermes joked.

“I don’t kiss and tell,” Y/N sassed. Jake smirked at Bob, who looked uncomfortable. Jake rolled his eyes, and subtly grabbed Bob’s hand to put around Y/N’s waist. He jumped at the feeling and Jake just nodded.

“Listen, Hermes, how bout you and the freshman jock squad go take a walk,” Jake said, “You guys are fucking wasted. Now go, or I tell Coach Smith and we run Death Hill until someone really dies.”

The group all agreed and disbanded. Y/N waited a bit, still keeping her arm around Bob until they were out of eyeshot. She sighed and untangled herself from Bob’s side, and Bob had to fight back a frown.

“Thanks, Floyd,” She said and walked away from him.

— — —

It was a beautiful night, and Bob could see the stars for once. That was something he missed since moving out East. You could hardly see the stars at night due to all the city lights and pollution. Back home, Bob would lay on his roof and look at the stars until the late hours at night. It helped calm him. He knew all the constellations in the sky, and could tell you their stories, and what season they are most prominent in. Currently, he was looking at Orion, and recalling one of his favorite stories about the constellation.

He wondered if Y/N liked the stars too. He was surprised how quiet it was outside, most people preferred to be inside the sweaty, hot house. Those outside were couples making out, girls having a drunk heart to heart, or people smoking weed. Bob had been offered a joint, but was too scared to do it. He had smoked weed once with his older sister, and could remember how angry his dad had gotten when he threw up on the floor. Bob swore he wasn’t going to try the drug again.

Bob’s moment of quiet was cut off by a hand landing on his shoulder. He jumped and looked over his shoulder at Hermes, Tank and Geco standing behind him. He felt his stomach drop and he scrambled to try and get away, but Tank and Geco grabbed his arms.

“Bob, I don’t think we have properly introduced you to the SigEp house,” Hermes smirked.

“I-I’ve been here before,” Bob said.

“Oh yeah, with Seresin,” Hermes nodded, “Your little butt buddy? Oh wait. . . that’s Frost isn’t it. Sorry I forget, that you like both of them to fuck you.”

“I don’t do-”

“I don’t give a fuck who fucks you in the ass, Floyd. But stay away from my girl.”

“She’s not yours,” Bob sneered. He wasn’t sure where that came from, but he hated the way Hermes was talking about Y/N. She wasn’t an object he could own.

“No? Then why was she just sucking on my dick and not yours?” Hermes laughed and Bob felt himself deflate a bit, but shook his head.

“Just let me go. I’ll leave the party,” Bob said honestly.

“Oh no. . . No can do. Bobby Boy. It’s time for NIGHT SWIMMING!” Hermes yelled loudly, which seemed to get the attention of some of those in the house, because a group came rushing out. Y/N was dancing with Jake when she heard the commotion from outside. Her and Jake shared a look before pushing through the crowd to go outside. Jake saw Hermes first, standing up on a chair and cursed.

“Shit. . .” Jake said, “It’s Bob.”

Y/N pushed her way through the crowd and made it down the deck to the pool. Bob looked terrified in Geoc and Tank’s hold as Hermes was taunting him. She had been to enough frat parties to know what was going to happen. Hermes grabbed a random beer as Tank held Bob’s chin open. He dumped the alcohol into Bob’s mouth, not caring that he was fighting against the hold on his arms and choking. The crowd seemed to instigate the brutality even more as the three boys stripped Bob of his clothes.

“Adrian! Stop, just let him go!” Y/N pleaded.

“Oh look Floyd, you’re little girl friend is here. Hope you can swim!” Hermes yelled.

“Throw him in! Throw him in! Throw him in!” The crowd cheered. Bob was frozen in fear, only in his underwear and socks. He tried with all his might to push out of Tank and Geco’s arms, but it was no use as they pushed him into the deepest part of the pool. The crowd all cheered as Bob was tossed in, the boys high fiving each other.

“Help! Help me!”” Bob yelled as he started thrashing.

“Calm the fuck down Floyd,” Hermes spat.

“I can’t swim!” Bob felt his lungs starting to close up as he breathed in water. He frantically kicked his arms and legs, trying to keep himself up. The panic rose in his chest, and suddenly he felt like he was back in the lake as a child. He couldn’t see much other than blobs of people staring at him.

“Bob!” Y/N ran towards the edge of the pool. Hermes grabbed her waist to stop her, but she kneed him in the balls, “Burn in hell.” She spat at Hermes, before jumping into the pool.

Bob’s head started to spin as he felt his body being pulled under. He could feel the tears running down his face as fear had him in a vice grip. Y/N swam to him fast, and wrapped her arms around his chest.

“Calm down!” She yelled, worried that Bob was going to pull her under as well, “I got you, kick your legs with me.”

“I can’t!” Bob gasped out.

“You can,” Y/N grunted and wrapped her arms under his armpits. Jake had made his way down to the side of the pool, and knelt down. “Breathe, Bob, I got you.” Bob took a deep breath as Y/N reached the edge of the pool. Jake grabbed Bob’s arms and pulled him out of the water. The crowd around was shocked as Bob laid on his back, coughing up water. Y/N pushed herself out of the pool, and helped roll Bob on his side, so he didn’t choke. Bob let out a sob, as he pushed himself up to his hands and knees.

“We got you, Bob,” Jake said, rubbing his back. Y/N wasn’t sure what to say, brushed the wet locks of blonde hair out of his eyes.

“The bitch can’t swim!” Hermes chuckled.

“You could’ve killed him!” Y/N yelled at Hermes.

“Just pointing out the weak ones,” Hermes shrugged.

Y/N clenched her jaw and went to stand up, but Bob grabbed her wrist. She looked down at him and he shook his head. His chest was still heaving up and down, his blue eyes wet with tears. Y/N nodded and knelt back down next to him.

“Alright. . . EVERYONE GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY FUCKING HOUSE!” Jake yelled and the crowd quickly dispersed. Jake was angry and looked down at Bob, who seemed to be doing a bit better, “I’m going to get a towel. You okay?” Bob nodded and Jake looked at Y/N, “Frost?”

“I will be,” Y/N said and Jake nodded, walking towards the house, “I’m so sor-”

“I’m sorry,” Bob said, “Your dress is ruined.”

“Are you really concerned about my dress?” She asked in disbelief, “Bob, you nearly died and you are worried about my dress.”

“Seems expensive,” Bob waited a moment, sitting down on his butt and running a hand through his hair, “Shit. . . my glasses.”

“Oh, I think they are at the bottom,” Y/N peered over the edge of the pool, and sure enough, his glasses were sitting at the bottom, “I can get-” He grabbed her wrist again to stop her.

“Why did you save me?”

“You needed-”

“No,” Bob shook his head, “Someone would’ve jumped in eventually when I went passive. But why did you save me?”

“Because. . . I like you Bob,” Y/N admitted, “A lot. And I should’ve done more to stop Adrian, and I am so sorry for what they did. This is going to be dealt with. They won’t get away with this, I plan on letting my-” Her words were cut off as Bob grabbed her face and kissed her. She froze for a split second, before kissing him back. Bob’s hand caressed her face as her hands went to the back of his neck. Their kiss was split up by the sound of someone clearing their throat behind them.

“Well, excuse me for interrupting and saving my mentee from pneumonia,” Jake said, and handed Bob a towel, “You going to be okay, Floyd?”

“I don’t plan on going swimming anytime soon,” Bob said looking up at Jake and then at Y/N, “But yeah,” He grabbed her hand and laced their fingers together, “I’ll be okay.”

#top gun #top gun fan fic #top gun fan fiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fan fic #top gun maverick fan fiction #top gun maverick imgaine #bob floyd #bob floyd fan fic #bob floyd fan fiction #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd x reader #whumptober #no. 26 #why did you save me #tw: drowning

119 notes · View notes

justforbooks · 2 months

Text

The profile of longtime Johns Hopkins Professor Richard A. Macksey

Richard A. Macksey, was a celebrated Johns Hopkins University professor whose affiliation with the university spanned six and a half decades.

A legendary figure not only in his own fields of critical theory, comparative literature, and film studies but across all the humanities, Macksey possessed enormous intellectual capacity and a deeply insightful human nature. He was a man who read and wrote in six languages, was instrumental in launching a new era in structuralist thought in America, maintained a personal library containing a staggering collection of books and manuscripts, inspired generations of students to follow him to the thorniest heights of the human intellect, and penned or edited dozens of volumes of scholarly works, fiction, poetry, and translation.

Macksey loved classical literature, foreign films, comic novels, and medical narratives—all subjects he taught at one time or another. Conversations with him were marked by a tendency to leap from one topic to another, connected by his seemingly boundless knowledge, prodigious memory, and sense of humor. For many at Hopkins and far beyond, he was no less than the embodiment of the humanities, both in intellect and spirit.

"Dick Macksey was a Johns Hopkins legend," says James Harris, a professor at the Johns Hopkins School of Medicine, director of the Developmental Neuropsychiatry Clinic, and a longtime friend of Macksey's. "He was a teacher, mentor, and friend to generations of Hopkins faculty and students. To me, he was the most erudite, kind, gracious, and considerate person I have ever known. He will be deeply missed and always remembered as the epitome of what makes Johns Hopkins a world-class university."

Born in New Jersey on July 25, 1931, Macksey planned to be a doctor and had launched his collection of medical books by the age of 5. After beginning his undergraduate studies at Princeton, he transferred to Hopkins and earned a bachelor's degree in 1953 and master's degree in 1954, both in Writing Seminars. He went on to earn a doctorate in comparative literature from Hopkins in 1957, writing his dissertation on Proust in French. While completing his thesis, he took a teaching position at Loyola College in Baltimore (now Loyola University Maryland) and after receiving his degree, returned to Hopkins as an assistant professor in the Writing Seminars. Quickly expanding beyond the writing workshops and "modern writers" courses he taught, he soon introduced a film class and initiated the first courses at Johns Hopkins in African American literature, women's studies, and scholarly publishing.

In 1966, Macksey led the charge in founding the Johns Hopkins Humanities Center—now the Department of Comparative Thought and Literature—as a meeting ground and incubator for problems, ideas, and discussions across disciplines. A degree-granting department, the Humanities Center sponsored graduate and undergraduate courses in literature, art, philosophy, and history; ran a graduate program; and maintained an active program of visiting scholars, professors, and lecturers. Macksey served as its director from 1970 until 1982, and he was a professor on its faculty until his retirement in 2010. Macksey continued to teach several courses until as recently as spring 2018.

The same year he launched the Humanities Center, Macksey joined French literary theorist and philosopher of social sciences René Girard, then associate professor of French at Hopkins, and deconstructionist and literary critic Eugenio Donato (both of whom co-founded the Humanities Center with Macksey) in convening an international symposium called The Languages of Criticism and the Sciences of Man. It was the first time that many leading figures of European structuralist criticism—including Jacques Derrida, Jacques Lacan, Roland Barthes, and Paul de Man—presented their ideas to the American academic community, throwing open a new conduit to avant-garde French theory and placing Hopkins at the center of an international intellectual conversation.

At the symposium, Derrida first presented his groundbreaking critique of structuralism, creating an entirely new perspective on how philosophy, literature, and language relate to and affect one another. The symposium's proceedings became the landmark study titled The Structuralist Controversy. The gathering set an intellectual standard that no U.S. humanities conference since has been able to match in intensity or intellectual stature, and heralded—or perhaps precipitated—the field's shift from structuralism to post-structuralism.

The many sides of Richard Macksey

"Everyone talks about 'interdisciplinary,' but he taught as if teaching and learning was a work of art," says Caleb Deschanel, director and Oscar-nominated cinematographer who graduated from Johns Hopkins in 1966. "[Macksey's teaching style] covered all the bases. If you were studying literature in the 19th century, it related to the music and art and sociology of the time. It's really what learning was supposed to be about. What it taught me was the fact that learning is about everything at the same time. Richard Macksey could somehow weave together all the elements and all the aspects of human existence into one thing, and that's what made him so great."

While a student, Deschanel proposed a film class to Macksey, who responded, why not? The class created a 16mm film, and Deschanel says that ever since, his work has been informed by the way Macksey taught him to question his instincts and search for the universal. He learned not to think of a piece of literature just as literature but as a work of art in a period of time, and about what we can learn from those universal ideas. "He taught you how to explode all the myths about things and come to the truth about what they were. Every time I do anything, my first thing is to doubt my first instincts about it. He saw learning and teaching the way we think of a work of art."

More than leading a life of aloof intellectualism, Macksey also existed fully on the human plane. A night owl, he was regularly spotted grocery shopping and volunteering at Baltimore's The Book Thing late into the evening and in the early morning hours; he liked to solve the trivia questions posed during Orioles games at Memorial Stadium; and he featured his cat, Buttons, as his Facebook cover photo. A fan of film and film history, Macksey was an inaugural founder and supporter of the 1970s Baltimore Film Festival, a predecessor of today's Maryland Film Festival.

It may have been partly due to his ability to exist on just a few hours of sleep that his presence had a way of being ever-present. Former student Rob Friedman, who graduated in 1981, remembers waking up at 1 a.m. to hear Macksey's voice drifting through his apartment window, and glimpsed the professor walking down St. Paul Street and "yakking with five students." On another occasion, Friedman awoke early and stepped outside at 6 a.m., only to find Macksey driving by and waving.

"He was so brilliant and had such an encyclopedic memory, and was also such an exuberant personality. He loved learning, he loved talking about what he was learning, and he also loved learning about what you had to say," Friedman says. "It's the generosity of his spirit and his contagious love of learning and excitement in sharing that learning. He might suddenly quote something in Greek."

Friedman met Macksey in 1977 when a friend advised him to get to know Macksey because of his sense of humor. Friedman left a funny note on Macksey's desk and the next day received an interoffice envelope with a humorous response. The two began sending comedic lines back and forth, and Friedman switched his major to humanistic studies so that Macksey could be his adviser.

"I was extremely unhappy during my college years, and if it hadn't been for him I wouldn't have finished school," Friedman says. "He really made a substantial difference in my life, not just academically but personally. I can't express the magnitude of my gratitude for Dick. There are probably 64 years' worth of people that—behind the scenes—he looked after."

Over the years, Macksey was celebrated for that dedication to teaching and received numerous awards. He also established awards in his name. In 1992, Macksey received the university's George E. Owen Teaching Award, given annually for outstanding teaching and devotion to undergraduates. In 1999, the Johns Hopkins Alumni Association awarded him its Distinguished Alumni Award, and the same year the Richard A. Macksey Professorship for Distinguished Teaching in the Humanities was endowed by former student Edward T. Dangel III and his wife, Bonni Widdoes. The professorship is currently held by author and Writing Seminars professor Alice McDermott.

In 2010, Macksey received a Hopkins Heritage Award, which honors alumni and friends of Hopkins who have contributed outstanding service over an extended period to the progress of the university or the activities of the Alumni Association. The Alexander Grass Humanities Institute hosts the Richard A. Macksey Lecture annually, and the Macksey Award is given each year to the graduating member of the Johns Hopkins chapter of Phi Beta Kappa who took the most academic risks.

Bridging medicine and the humanities

Famous at Hopkins for riding a Harley Davidson motorcycle to class in Gilman Hall and for the ever-present pipe between his teeth, Macksey held joint appointments in Writing Seminars and in History of Medicine at the Johns Hopkins School of Medicine, where he co-directed the Humanities Programs starting in 1990. With neurosurgeon George Udvarhelyi, he co-founded the School of Medicine's Office of Cultural Affairs in 1977 as a cross-campus initiative to engage in rigorous inquiry between the humanities and arts and health, science, and the delivery of care. Starting with just a few resources, the pair attracted funding from the National Endowment for the Humanities and the National Endowment for the Arts to bring in speakers with international reputations in medicine and the humanities, including Primo Levi and Umberto Eco.

"Because of Dick Macksey's legacy, we can position Hopkins as a key center of the intersection of humanities and medicine," says Jeremy Greene, professor of medicine and the history of medicine and director of the Institute of the History of Medicine. "He really blazed a path between the two campuses that many people have been able to follow since, and draw closer together the relevance between the humanities and medicine in the 21st century."

In 1992, Catherine DeAngelis, then the School of Medicine vice dean of academic affairs, received a grant to update the 75-year-old medical school curriculum. Wanting to familiarize med students with literature, poetry, theater, and the arts, she asked Macksey if he would assist in developing a four-year course called Physician and Society.

"I could think of no one better to teach in that course than Dick Macksey even though he wasn't in the School of Medicine. He really made that course so special, and I learned a lot from him by sitting in," says DeAngelis, now University Distinguished Service Professor Emerita and professor of pediatrics emerita.

"He was absolutely brilliant, but if you talked to him you would never know from him how brilliant he was," she adds. "He was approachable, and just so kind."

Generosity of spirit

Macksey was beloved for his generosity, the way he fully devoted himself to every conversation and cared about every person and his or her ideas. He thrived on engaging with everyone, eagerly giving his attention to students' thoughts and to them as people, and he never met a conversation or topic he didn't find interesting.

"Dick, of course, was brilliant, with a superb and elegant command of language, and that extraordinary memory," says John Astin, theater program director and Homewood Professor of the Arts. "Beyond that, he was a cherished companion, possessing infinite kindness whom I shall miss always. The world is less without him but much better for having had him for a time."

Friedman remembers one student who had discovered an obscure Portuguese poet, read a translation, and wanted to learn more. The student approached faculty in what is now the Department of German and Romance Languages and Literatures, but no one was familiar with the poet. Someone advised him to ask Macksey if he'd heard of him. "He said, 'of course,' and handed him an entire file of research and the poet's life history," Friedman says.

"I visited him two weeks ago when he was still able to talk and even laugh despite being bedridden," says Richard Chisolm, a documentary filmmaker whom Macksey hired to teach film at Hopkins in the 1980s and '90s, and a friend of Macksey's for 40 years. "He was a one-of-a-kind intellectual giant and a joyful teacher who was never self-centered; always filled with good humor, curiosity, and an intense love of conversation—in over a dozen languages."

A legendary library

In 1972, Macksey and his wife, Catherine Macksey, converted the garage of their home into a library. But his sprawling collection was never confined to its walls, spilling into bookshelves throughout their home and even occupying the steps of the ladders intended to access the upper shelves. "Chez Macksey," as it was fondly known, was where he frequently held classes and film viewings and subsequent discussions, and Macksey and his students would compete with those books for space around a table late into the night, often fueled by cookies and pipe smoke, while works of fine art looked on.

"Students for decade after decade have reveled in the life of that house: To be around a world of learning, enthusiasm, watching movies in the wee hours, listening to this expansive mind firing off in seven directions at once, and learning something they never knew before," Friedman says.

The collection holds not only an impressive number of diverse titles but also, scrawled in the margins, insights into Macksey's mind. He would frequently write on the pages, creating a sort of correspondence with the authors. His wife, a French scholar at Hopkins who died in 2000, also annotated her books, and Macksey told author Jessie Chaffee several years ago that he continued to "find" Catherine in the annotations she'd made in books.

"He was always engaging with the author, either in agreement or in argument," says Winston Tabb, Sheridan Dean of University Libraries, Archives and Museums. "[What you see is] essentially two minds operating together in one text—the author and a very intelligent reactor."

Equally impressive, says Tabb, is the fact that no current catalog exists: "The catalog was in Dick's mind."

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

#just for books #Richard Macksey #in memoriam

6 notes · View notes

nancypullen · 13 days

Text

Not Dead Yet

It's me, the lady who used to spread nonsense far and wide courtesy of this blog. I can't express how much I miss emptying my brain into this space. I drag home after nine hours in the book mines and it's all I can do to eat, soak in a hot bath, and go to bed. I'm sorry to the handful of readers that I have left. Don't give up on me, this isn't forever. The reason that I'm here tonight is because this handsome guy just had a birthday.

He was born sixty-eight years ago in Washington D.C. when the cherry blossoms were in full bloom. His father used to tell the story of walking around and around under those cherry blossoms waiting for news that his firstborn had arrived. That was back in the stone age when fathers weren't allowed in the delivery room. Although his birthday was earlier in the week, we'll be celebrating him tomorrow when the Edgewater gang arrives. I have to work until 2 o'clock but they can't start without me because I know where the presents are. He requested red velvet cake so that's what he shall have, and there will be gourmet pizzas (Jamie's recipes, Tyler manning the pizza oven - what a team!). Hopefully Mickey will feel the love and understand how happy we are that he was born. Of all the choices I've made in my life, he might be the very best one. While looking for an old photo of us to add to this post I came across this one. This was a few days before our wedding in 1984, at my parents' home in Florida. We were opening wedding gifts and apparently very excited about some flatware.

But I have questions. Why are we dressed alike? More importantly why are we dressed like WHAM?

youtube

Weren't they the guys who popularized wearing t-shirts under vests? I think Hall and Oates did it too. Regardless, you can bet that Mickey and Nancy were on the cutting edge of fashion, and out on the dance floor every chance we got. In hindsight, we look ridiculous. But the point of this ramble is, we looked ridiculous together. That's how we've gone through life since 1982. Now he's sixty-eight and I'm sixty and we still enjoy looking ridiculous together. Again, I'm awfully glad he was born. As the song says, he puts the boom-boom into my heart. Moving on. I'll work Saturday, I'm off Sunday, then I work three more days. On Thursday our plan is to drive up to Lancaster, Pennsylvania and spend a couple of days. It's just about two hours from us and we'd like to explore the area. I was excited until I saw the forecast for rain, rain, and more rain. I'm not sure how much exploring we can do in a downpour. Crossing my fingers that the forecast will change. We may need to change our plans if it doesn't. I'm off to bed, busy weekend ahead - work and an energetic six year old who was recently visited by the tooth fairy, twice. She lost her first tooth on Easter, and another at school on Wednesday! I can't wait to hear all about it. Is there anything cuter than a snaggle-toothed kid? Alright, sweet people, I'll sign off and go read until I fall asleep. I'm reading about shipwrecks (kind of like my life since we moved to Maryland, but you know I'll sing in the lifeboat). I hope that spring is making your heart light. I hope that whatever troubles you is small compared to what brings you joy. And, as always, I hope that you are safe and well. Sending out loads of love tonight. Take some and pass it on. XOXO, Nancy

#Youtube

5 notes · View notes

wonderlandleighleigh · 1 year

Text

Some Schneiders of Stars Hollow in the morning.

Ethan Maisel likes that his mother is semi-retired.

Honestly, she’s been busting her ass in show business since the sixties, and at almost seventy, she’s earned a break.

And sure, Stars Hollow is a weird place, filled with strange people and a festival a week, and…that Kirk guy, but Ethan thinks it’s nice that his mother and stepfather are so happy here.

And besides, the food at Luke’s Diner is pretty great, all things considered, and that’s coming from someone who grew up on traditional New York deli food.

He steps inside and sheds his coat, shaking some snow out of his hair and then nodding towards the owner behind the counter. “Hey, Luke.”

Luke gives him a friendly grin. “Ethan, hey. Meetin’ your mom?”

“Yeah, though she’s late, even though I made sure to be late, too,” Ethan chuckles.

“That’s Midge. Coffee?”

“God, yeah, thanks.”

He sits at one of the tables and glances through the menu, and, like a tornado, his mother rushes in from the cold.

“I know I’m late!” she cries as she slips out of her fashionable rose-colored coat. She’s still petite, still a very pretty woman, though these days she no longer tries to dye her hair, instead sporting her same-as-ever haircut, only mostly silver, and Ethan is grateful that she’s accepted aging as apart of life. He knows it’s not easy to be in show business as an older woman, but he’d hate for his talented mother to try and cling to fading youth when she’s always been more than a pretty face.

“Yes, you are,” Ethan chuckles as he gets up and allows himself to be kissed on the cheek and hugs her with one arm. “But that’s nothing new.”

“Yikes, already with the roasts, what did I do now?” Midge asks as she takes a seat.

Luke settles two coffees at their table with some cream and sugar, and Midge pats his arm.

“Thanks, Sweetie. You’re a lifesaver, it’s cold out there!”

“No problem. Any thoughts on food yet?” Luke asks, pulling out his order pad.

“Can you make that sandwich with all the veggies and Munster cheese and Russian dressing?” Midge requests. “It was so good last time when you toasted the bread just right.”

“You got it,” Luke nods. “Ethan?”

“Soups today?”

“Maryland Crab, Matzoh Ball, Chicken Noodle and Navy Bean.”

“Navy bean, and half a turkey sandwich with spicy mustard?” Ethan requests.

“Comin’ up!”

Midge smiles at Ethan brightly. “So? Coming all this way to have lunch when you’ve got such a busy schedule? What’s up?”

Ethan sighs softly. “Well…it’s Noah.”

Her smile falls. “What? What about Noah, what’s wrong with Noah?”

“Nothing’s really wrong, he’s just-“ Ethan pauses and sips his coffee. “He came home for winter break, and he announced that he…hates MIT.”

“He hates MIT?” Midge asks, confused. “MIT is all he’s talked about since he was six years old. He’s been dreaming of going there nearly his whole life, and now he hates it?”

“You know he doesn’t hate it,” Ethan tells her. “He hates that he’s so far away from all of us. He doesn’t get to come home for family dinners, and he misses birthdays and even some holidays.”

“But I thought he was doing well, making friends!”

“He was, but he’s not happy,” Ethan tells her. “So he’s looking at the other schools he got into.”

“That’s seven other schools,” Midge points out. “He’s considering the other seven schools that he considered his backups if MIT somehow lost their mind and didn’t want to admit one of the brightest young science majors in the world?”

“Ma…”

She takes a breath, composing herself. “Okay. So. What’s he thinking?”

“He’s considering Columbia, although he still remembers Gramma Rose telling him Columbia was cursed when he was little,” Ethan says.

“Mama certainly had a way with words, didn’t she?” Midge smiles sadly.

“She definitely did,” Ethan agrees, patting her hand gently. “He’s also heavily considering Yale.”

She blinks, tilting her head with interest. “Is he really?”

“Yes, he is. He’d be very close by.”

“Yes, he would.”

Ethan grins at his mother, amused, as he watches the wheels turn in her head. “Ma…”

“It’d be nice to have him so close!” she defends. “And Rory goes to Yale, and they’re the same age, and Ella pops by from time to time, but everyone else is always on the run, and I’m no good at running anymore.”

“If Noah chooses Yale, you have to be cool about it,” Ethan tells her.

“I can be cool! Look at the man I married; a picture of his face is next to the definition of ‘cool’ in the dictionary.”

“You can’t show up on campus without warning,” Ethan says. “And you can’t set him up on dates without telling him.”

“I was never the matchmaker in our family,” Midge reminds him.

“You know what I mean.”

She huffs out an exasperated breath. “Okay, okay, I get it, no meddling.”

Ethan chuckles and leans over, kissing her cheek. “Thanks, Ma.”

“So where is wonder boy now?” Midge asks.

“He and Julia are touring Princeton today,” Ethan says.

“Feh. Princeton.”

“What’s wrong with Princeton?”

“It’s in New Jersey! I don’t want my grandson to come home smelling like New Jersey.”

Ethan laughs. “Ma.”

She crosses her arms.

“It’s just a tour. They’re doing the Yale tour tomorrow.”

“And then you’re coming here for dinner,” Midge tells him.

“Yes,” Ethan agrees. “We will come back to Stars Hollow for dinner, and you can try to talk my son into doing what you want.”

“Thank you.”

#fic #au #tmmm #The Schneiders of Stars Hollow #Ethan Maise #Midge Maisel #Luke Danes #Midge x Lenny

26 notes · View notes

kudzucataclysm · 5 months

Text

NAME: Maya Elizabeth Fontaine

DOB: December 1972; 32 years of age

History: Born in the shattered northeast during the downturn of the 2nd civil war and the upturn of urban warfare, the girl that would soon become Maya Fontaine was nameless and an unknowing cog in the machine that was an urban warlord’s child soldier army. Eventually, the newly formed Promethean Society rolled through the bombed out cities with the help of Martian soldiers, and Maya was inducted into Prometheus’s “childhood learning program”. She spent her teenage years learning under the smartest minds of the 20th century and trained by the best soldiers to become a cocktail of intelligence and ultraviolence.

In 1991 Maya founded Fontaine Industries, a private R&D company using advanced robotics technology and weaponry for securing corporate and government office buildings. As the business grew it expanded its roles into development of crowd dispersal, defensive measures, body armor, and finally weapons development for private militaries. A darker side to the business involves arms dealing to enemy countries, illegal research facilities, smuggling operations, and trafficking.

In 1998 she became a senior official in the Society, as well as an on-and-off professor at the organization’s school of science. She is now one of the richest people in the world, and mentor to the Society’s newest addition, Desmond Arkady.

Occupation: Robotics engineer employed by the Promethean Society. Founder and CEO of Fontaine Industries.

Origin: UNKNOWN; thought to be somewhere in former Maryland

Last Known Whereabouts: NEC, DUSA

Identifying Characteristics: African-American, long black hair usually styled into dreads. Just under 6 feet tall and cybernetically enhanced to the point of classifying as a cyborg. Long scar stretches across her forehead, wears glasses that magnetically attach to her nose bridge. Almost always seen working in her pajamas.

Psych: Egotistical, suspected to have a self constructed god complex. Self-centered, demanding, industrious, ambitious, clever and most of all dangerous. Manipulative. Unpredictable, controlling, with a severe lack of basic empathy. Hard to get to know any more than superficially, she doesn’t really let anyone in emotionally. Seems to be guarding secrets. Could use some refresher courses in ethics.

#shattered earth #oc talk #wanted to post this suddenly #superglue

10 notes · View notes

dwellordream · 2 months

Text

“Northern states acted separately to end slavery. Vermont was the first state to forbid it by incorporating an antislavery provision into its 1777 constitution. In Massachusetts the courts abolished slavery in a series of ‘freedom cases’ brought by slaves and their sympathizers in the 1780s. As Chief Justice William Cushing of the Supreme Judicial Court ruled, ‘The idea of slavery is inconsistent with our own conduct and constitution. …there can be no such thing as perpetual servitude of a rational creature.’ New Hampshire adopted a constitution in 1783 that declared ‘all men are born equal and independent.’

…Elsewhere the process of freeing the enslaved was painfully slow. State legislatures enacted gradual abolition statutes in Pennsylvania (1780), Rhode Island (1784), Connecticut (1784), New York (1799), and New Jersey (1804). These laws provided for freedom of the children of slaves when they reached ages ranging from 18 to 28. In this way, parents who were enslaved for life saw their children become free. Their victory must have been bittersweet, filled with boy joy and agonizing frustration. As late as 1840, New Jersey still listed legally owned slaves on its census.

…Freedom did not, however, change the daunting work responsibilities of black women. They remained largely an unskilled work force. Under the southern slave system, women worked almost exclusively as agricultural laborers. A few found employment as domestics, and on rare occasion (especially during the war years) women worked at skilled tasks, such as spinning and weaving. But many more black men than women worked at skilled trades under slavery. …Most black women in towns and cities worked as laundresses. As the Pennsylvania Abolition Society reported in 1795, ‘The Women generally, both married and single, wash clothes for a living.’ This physically demanding job was no easier than fieldwork. Whatever their occupation, under both slavery and freedom women worked from dawn to dusk to support themselves and their families.

…In all urban centers blacks moved gradually into their own neighborhoods. At first they sought simple companionship, the opportunity to live among people who did not judge them as inferiors. Soon, however, they were establishing churches, schools, and charitable societies to help each other in their daily struggles for survival. Life in the urban North was difficult for black families, but for those who could live where they wanted and with whom they wanted for the first time, freedom made the daily struggle to survive worthwhile.

…The rise of a large free black population in the North aggravated racial tensions in both the North and South. White northerners no longer wanted to uphold a slave system, but for the most part their attitudes toward the newly freed slaves did not change. Racist feelings of superiority determined the treatment of blacks under both slavery and freedom. And as slavery became even more firmly entrenched in the South, explicitly racist arguments in favor of the institution were heard more and more. White southerners argued that blacks were intellectually incapable of caring for themselves and their families. They claimed that blacks were inherently lazy, dishonest, and foolish.

…With the end of legal slave importation in sight, the role of enslaved women as childbearers took on new importance. By the end of the 18th century slave owners understood that their slaves’ fertility increased their wealth and guaranteed the continued prosperity of their children. As Thomas Jefferson remarked, ‘I consider a woman who brings a child every two years as more profitable than the best man of the farm.’ This attitude became particularly prevalent in Maryland, Delaware, and Virginia, where planters began to encourage slaves to have large families as a way of making money.

…In other cases, white men coerced their female slaves into reproducing. Some women found themselves coupled with a man unwillingly, simply because the master said it was time for them to produce children. Many owners even raped their own slaves or forced them to become their mistresses. Tragically, most of these men later turned the offspring from these unions into slaves. The social system of the southern colonies and states frowned on men who acknowledged their sexual liaisons by granting freedom to their children. Even the slave owners who promoted stable family life took little trouble to ensure that families stayed together.

…Although some women practiced abortion and infanticide to deny owners additional human property, many more bore children as a means of self-affirmation. In African-American culture, as in the traditional societies of West Africa from which these people came, motherhood gave women personal fulfillment and high social status. As wives and mothers, they satisfied their own needs and the needs of black slave communities even more than the needs of owners. Enslaved families, however tortured, produced the means for individual slave survival.

Just as African-American women struggled to defend their families under slavery, Native American women attempted to protect their families from total destruction during the revolutionary era. The war was very hard on the eastern tribes, which suffered attacks from both English and Patriot troops. Some Indians tried to stay neutral, but the stance proved impossible to maintain. And no matter which side a tribe joined in the war, the enemy loomed near.

…Although the Iroquois survived, their culture, in many wars, did not. Peace found the Iroquois crowded on relatively small reservations, unable to follow the customs of the hunt, migration of town sites, warfare, and family relationships. As a people, they now questioned the validity of their traditions because they had fared so badly in their contests with Europeans. Many Iroquois came to despise their own culture as an inferior one without a place in a new world order.

Reservation life changed many aspects of Indian behavior. One important shift occurred in the division of labor between women and men. On reservations, men’s traditional labor--hunting and warfare--lost significance. Men continued to hunt, but game was scarce and became more so as the years passed. The men usually were able to provide their families with meat, but they no longer traded in furs. In addition, accepting peace on white men’s terms meant that warriors were acknowledging their inability to defend their families. As a result, political and religious leaders, as well as the warriors themselves, suffered greatly from shame.”

- Marylynn Salmon, “The Limits of Republicanism: Racial Conflicts in the North, South, and West.” in The Limits of Independence: American Women, 1760-1800

#marylynn salmon #indigenous #history #slavery #colonial #american #gender #the limits of independence

5 notes · View notes

soakedinbloodandmagic · 9 months

Text

MEET LAYLA HAWTHORNE

NAME: Layla Estelle Hawthorne.

AGE: Forty years old (born September 9th, 1983).

ZODIAC SIGN: Virgo (and she does fit the stereotype, the poor perfectionist).

ORIENTATION: Bisexual.

PRONOUNS: She/her.

SPECIES: Creaturewitch.

LOCATION: Nightshade Hollow, Virginia (though she lived in Baltimore for a while, but that… didn’t end well).

OCCUPATION: Public defender (Nightshade Hollow’s only practicing lawyer, who mainly handles traffic court cases and DUIs; not that she minds, she loves her job).

FACECLAIM: Christina Ricci.

ABOUT: The first child of David and Maria Hawthorne, Layla’s parents were more than thrilled to have had a daughter like her father had wanted for some time, and even more relieved when their little girl turned out not to be a bloodwitch. No, their little Layla Estelle was a creaturewitch, as they discovered when a little three-year-old Layla had proclaimed to them that the family cat had a bladder infection they had even fully realized it was in pain - she could speak to animals and sense their emotions, more connected to the world’s beasts than any other type of witch would ever be with even their own familiars.

However, just because Layla wasn’t the current Hawthorne bloodwitch did not mean she was fully free from the burden of the family’s curse. The reveal of her younger brother Addy’s witch type had added considerable tension to the Hawthorne household, with David and Maria incredibly worried about being able to protect their son and, as a result, sometimes neglecting Layla in the interest of keeping her brother as safe as possible.

(Examples of this included leaving Layla to play outside longer than was probably reasonable while they researched the strongest protective wards known to witchkind, and that one time David had accidentally left Layla at a gas station because she’d gone in to use the bathroom and he’d seen a suspicious-looking woman eyeing Addy in the backseat of the car. Layla still hasn’t quite gotten over that last one.)

And while Layla didn’t resent her parents or her younger brother for any of this, knowing the risks that came with the Hawthorne curse - and indeed, she would often babysit Addy and Dante, once he was born, while David and Maria researched - it did make her start to long for new horizons, places beyond Nightshade Hollow where she could make her own life away from the struggles of being a Hawthorne witch. As such, as soon as she had finished high school (valedictorian of her class, of course) and been accepted into the University of Baltimore’s law school (regrettably without a scholarship, but she was willing to work part-time to pay it off), Layla departed from her little Virginia town and headed off to Maryland, ready to make a life of her own.

Layla’s years in Baltimore were some of her happiest; while studying to become a public defence lawyer, she made many friends both magical and human, and even met the woman who would become her fiancée. Annabelle was a spiritwitch, like Layla’s cousin Olly, and had run a small café in downtown Baltimore that Layla had frequented in order to assuage the stress of her new public defender position with caffeine. The two young women had made an instant connection, beginning to date after two years of knowing each other and moving in together quickly, and eventually Annabelle had proposed, getting down on one knee and popping the question on Layla’s thirtieth birthday and receiving an enthusiastic and tearful yes.

But their happiness hadn’t lasted - in between arguing about plans for the wedding and Annabelle spending more and more time at work, eventually Layla found that they had been engaged for two years and had made very little progress. And it all came to a head when Layla had come home early one night to find Annabelle sharing a bed with her assistant manager at the café, resulting in a bout of tearful shouting, a thrown engagement ring, and a sobbing Layla calling her mother from a motel room later that night and saying that she didn’t know where to go.

Of course David and Maria, who despite completely supporting their daughter had missed Layla terribly, where happy to welcome her home, Layla couldn’t help but fear that returning to Nightshade Hollow meant being a coward and simply running away from her problems. Even so, she couldn’t stand to be in Baltimore any longer, what with all the memories of Annabelle it held, and so Layla made her way back to her hometown, back to the woods and the small-town atmosphere and the family that, despite loving her life in Baltimore, she really had missed.

It took some time for Layla to get used to being in a small town again, but eventually she got back into the swing of things, relearning how to do her “hunting” in woods instead of dirty back alleys and taking over for the county’s former resident public defender, who had been looking to retire for some time. She even managed to find an awesome paralegal in the form of Sky Moorland, sibling of Nightshade Hollow’s police deputy, who also quickly became Layla’s best friend. She even adopted a beautiful little black-and-white cat she named Marilyn, who, despite not being her familiar, became a trusted confidant to Layla due to the creaturewitch’s ability to communicate with animals.

But then, so shortly after Layla had started getting her life back together, came the deaths of the Hawthorne siblings’ parents, which almost broke her cleanly apart. It had taken weeks for Layla to be able to even get out of bed and do things for herself without Sky’s prompting, and despite how hard she tried to remain the strong older sister for her brothers, she couldn’t even look at a picture of David and Maria without bursting into tears. Even now, she’s still not fully okay, but took months for Layla to climb out of the pit she’d fallen into and slowly get back to work, leaning heavily on her family (as well as Greer, the young shapeshifter Addy had recently adopted as a familiar) and Sky in order to, but by bit, piece herself back together.

Six years later, and Layla’s life has mostly gone back to normal - she works her public defence cases with Sky’s help, does some spellwork and goes hunting when she needs to, and does her best to keep her brothers from doing anything too stupid (an undertaking she and Olly get together to commiserate about quite regularly). But given everything that’s happened in her life so far, and the memories of the warnings her parents always gave her, Layla has never been completely confident in this happy period in all their lives being something that lasts.

And Christ, she will reflect later as the dangerous force pushing its way into Nightshade Hollow gets stronger and stronger, this might be the one time she takes no pleasure in being right.

Confession time: I know Addy’s going to be the focus of the main storyline, but I honestly think Layla might be my favorite character in this universe. She just loves so fully and fiercely and would do anything for the people she cares about, and I really hope you guys love her as much as I do!!

Tagging the slasher OC fam: @raraeavesmoriendi, @jmathesonandsiblings, @shadowworldwanderers.

#character intros #layla #layla hawthorne #slasher oc #slasher original character #witch oc #witch original character #witches of the woods and co.

9 notes · View notes

hostileheart · 9 months

Text

All to tell (John Phillips X (fem) reader)

second FF upload to tumblr if you have any suggestions let me know thank you// to sum this one up you both work as interns at your father's company and it seems that he knows more about you than you anticipated TW for heavy sexual content and non-con elements

You lived in upstate Maryland for as long as you could remember, traveling briskly for your family's work related reasons or for a blissful summer holiday. You yourself never got out much at all, surrounded by the comfort of your home and your private college. Despite living in one place for that amount of time you still found yourself unsociable, purely out of choice. It was a rare occurrence to make conversation with anyone your age about any non school related subjects. There was no real reason to, having a one track mind makes it easy to accomplish what you wanted to. Which was exactly why your father had chosen you over your brother to take an internship at the company he was employed at. You felt dubiously guilty about the endeavor, most of the people starting an internship at the business were sons of other wealthy, dull, like minded middle aged men. On the eve of your first day you pondered to yourself about all the opportunities this could open for you, what type of impression you were going to make upon your father’s coworkers, your mind strains at the mere thought of the possible creepy touchy older men whose eyes would pin you down as you were simply trying to file paperwork, when they would make that so sickening small talk people do. Rest assured if anything was to happen you could leave whenever you pleased.

The next morning came too soon, as most Saturdays do good or not. Taking your time in the dawn of the morning to get ready and to leave promptly at 7:45 am. The car ride was silent as most times no matter the occasion are entirely. Arriving at the front doors of the company you noticed how everyone had said hello to your father with a sense of high respect, understanding why due to his high position, however not truly understanding why. You were introduced to his team members, then promptly placed into a room with other interns. Young men are already standing up to introduce themselves to try and be friendly. This sickened you, you despised it all, not being able to tell if their intentions were pure or not, this reminded you of intermediate school all over again. you briefly waved to them in a somewhat friendly way to signal you didn’t wish to be bothered. There was one young man who did not stand up to introduce himself, however had been staring at you the entire time. He seemed too familiar however you could not place a name to his face at that given moment. In order to figure out his name you put a plan in action, within the next five minutes you would use the restroom, it being down the hall from his desk. Why would you put this amount of effort just to find out a man’’s name? You didn't know why entirely it made you feel ill to a degree.

Five minutes passed and you stood up walking slowly, passing his desk, eyeing his name plate which was engraved in silver John Phillips. It hit you then that you had met him on numerous occasions, your fathers knowing each other well. However you were to never speak to him directly on your own accord. Reality came crashing back as you found yourself stopped for a moment in front of his desk spacing out for as it seemed no reason, his eyes on you the entire time not saying anything back. You collect yourself and walk into the women's restroom. Covering your mouth as you stood in front of the mirror, he looked so different from the last time you saw him, his eyes still soft yet his gaze was completely solidified. It almost aroused you, you smiled to yourself trying to control your own thoughts.

he liked you. Oh, he really fucking adored you. He liked the way you walked, and how your voice sounded. He liked how you looked when you had no idea he was watching. His watching had gone on for months, as a matter of fact you interning here was all a part of his plan recommending you to his father for the open position, John knew way too much about you more than what was comfortable. He liked how quiet and lonesome you were, and he liked to think he could one day own you, to be the only person in the entire world to know and understand your deepest thoughts and feelings.

As you were in the restroom he laughed to himself, slipping his hands in his pockets, knowing that this was only the beginning of his plan. Normally he would not put this amount of effort into anything, this type of behavior being completely foreign to himself he savored it constantly thinking about his new found interest, his newfound obsession. He utterly adored every part of you. He craved to know more about you. It pained him how silent you are.

You walked out the restroom after two minutes, just standing in front of the mirror adjusting your hair and lipstick. You once again pass by his desk, however something grabs onto your wrist, you look down immediately and low and behold it was John. Your eyes squint as you look up at him, quickly pulling away from his grasp. “y/n, was it?” you look around before answering with a nod “I’m John, John Phillips, we had met before at a couple of company dinners, anyway if you need any assistance with anything i’ll be around and might I add that you made quite the impression.” He smiles before composing himself, “thank you” you say with a soft tone. You smile to yourself, as you sit down quickly continuing your paperwork for another hour before your father’s assistant comes in and directs you to run down to the copy room and file something for the security office. “And John Phillips will be directing you to the security office once you file all ten copies which shouldn’t take too long.” His assistant spits out before quickly leaving you to file,

John walks up to you and says “Here send me five so we can get this done quicker” He says placing his hand on the back of your chair, you feel his long dark brown hair draping over your head. You groan to yourself “Sure thank you” you send him the documents and sure enough within the next seven minutes you both were finished with the files. You look back at him as he stands up with the papers in hand and he walks over to you, you notice the way he walks, making you grin so different from the rest of the guys who had worked here, way less formal. “Ready?” you ask him as he walks over to you “Yep yep”

a tensed silence fills the air around you two, he speaks up again “ Still in high school?” you shake your head in disagreement “Graduated last year, started a private college recently.. What about you?” he looks over at you and nods “ Yeah in my last year now, well what college?” you bite your lip before answering, debating if you should tell him or not “uhh.. John Hopkins University” John Smiles and looks over to you “ Oh really? I applied over there, what's it like?” you watch his facial expressions wisely, “Just as you would expect” you sigh

You look up at the door title starting ‘SECURITY ROOM’ “we’re here it seems.” you state as you reach for the door handle, he quickly opens the door for you allowing you to walk in front of him, he shuts the door behind you two locking it without your knowledge. You try to flip the light switch, he watches you “So the lights don’t work in here they never fix it apparently it makes it easier to look at the computer screens, and most times nobody is in here unless it’s a PM shift the paperwork we have is for the PM shift” he states. “ I see okay, how often do they have you do this” you question, “ not too often” he answers quickly, drawing his eyes away from your frame.

You can’t make out John's facial expression or tell his body language the dim computer screen light in the background only outlining both of your bodies.

John had slipped his hand in his pocket palming his bulge softly, his dick hard, your breath being rapid from the tension of the moment, the silence filled the air other than your own breath, thinking of things to speak about you walk around the room in the darkness and stare at the computer screen and the things scattered across the desk. “They keep it rather messy here, don't they?” John doesn’t answer. A minute of silence, any minute more would make you want to leave. You look around to your sides obviously not seeing him, He then presses himself against your backside, leaning his head over your shoulder and tilting it in the direction of your face. “It’s dark in here for a reason y/n” You don’t move, you can’t even if you wish. His touch against your skin made your body shake in fear, your mind absent as he was too. “I know you remember me, don’t you?” he whispers directly into your ear. “What if I don’t” your lips quivering as you fearfully turn to him.

It’s not like you weren’t enjoying it, as a matter of fact, you adored every second of it, you’ve thought about this since the first time you saw him years ago. “I’ll make you remember me” he grins as he places his hand around your throat, turning his head to yours to get a better peak of your face. "Why are you doing this John?" You spat out, voice shaky. He answered you by shoving his hand beneath your tight pencil skirt and under the constricting material of your tights. You quickly shut your eyes as you felt his fingers on the fabric of your thong. He presses his hardened dick against your ass. His fingers pushed past your underwear and dragged along your core. You attempted to look away from him, but John's grip on your throat brought you back. "Don't look away, now," he laughed at you.

You observed his face as he fit his fingers inside of you. Your hands reached for his throat. You didn't try to throw him off of you, you just held onto him as he fingered you. His fingers stretched you out painfully. You could feel tears stinging your eyes as he pushed in and out."So tight", he commented, grinning and teasing you.

He tore his fingers from you and leaned forwards to kiss you. You could feel the ends of his hair falling on your face. His erection rubbed against your ass aggressively. You wanted to spit at him, bite him, do something, but you weren't sure how that would turn out for you.

John pulled your skirt down as far as he could. You could hear his belt buckle jingling as you anticipated him. As you waited, you could feel the skin around your throat getting sore from John's hand, he leaned over and ripped open your tights with one motion. He fumbled with his boxers, his dick slipping out of them quickly. He slides himself between your thighs, never inserting himself inside. You muffle out moans from his sweaty and salvia-covered hand. “I know you need it, don’t you” he whispers into your ear, he tightens his grip around your throat. You nod, turning away in embarrassment, your breathing heavy and knees weak. “Say it then.” you shake your head looking down, “Please…please John I can’t” You turn away from his gaze, “Too fucking bad whore.” He chuckles and pushes you away from him against the desk, he conceals himself by zipping up his pants. He grabs your chin and pulls you close, almost spitting in your face. “If you tell anyone about this I’ll tell management, and your father just about what a whore you are for getting off at work. “I won’t I’m sorry” You whisper out in fear as you step towards him grabbing his hands softly, his disposition softens as you look up at him. He walks over to you and grabs your chin and plants a kiss on your forehead and wipes away your tears, pulling you into his arms. This became a thing you two did every time you both were there at the same time, sneaking away but never actually fucking. It was killing you, it was killing him. You began to admire him slowly, this admiration was picked up by the other interns who oftentimes would tease you both about it.

One night, you were alone walking back from a cafe late at night. You were a completely oblivious woman you never once noticed him. He observed you unlock the door to your house, which was close to St. John’s private boy’s Academy, with your key. He glanced at you as you closed the door as he passed your street. There were no cars in the driveway. You were home alone weren’t you? Oh, how easy it would be to just to.. break in. John couldn't help but get aroused at thinking of all the things he could be doing to you right at that moment.

He'd been watching you all day. He saw you shower, a red flush across your body as you stepped out of the hot water. He saw you shift into pajamas and do your classwork. Everything was going according to plan. He slowly made his way through your home, guessing where your room was. His feet were creaking on the floor, and by the way, your TV turned off, you had heard him. He opened the door, only to be greeted by your fearful expression. “John! What are you doing here?” you look at him in shock “You left the door open princess, could've been dangerous. Don’t worry I locked it for you” He grinned as he stepped towards the edge of your bed frame. Looking around your room, he looks back at you. “Cool shit you got,” he says as he sits down next to you. “Thanks John” You sheepishly whisper out. You eye him down looking at his attire, casual rich guy’s son bullshit but paired with a silly graphic tee which made complete sense for him. “I’ve missed you in more ways than one,” he says, getting up and then laying over you “John..” you sigh nervously, your body shaking with anticipation “We shouldn’t”. He tilts his head, his long hair falling over your face, he tilts your chin up. “Nobody is home and I came all this way don’t back out now”.

He says as he bites into your neck holding you down by your shoulders. You whimper in pain, as he rubs his erection against your leg, you unbuckle his belt and unzip his boxers. He quickly removes your top revealing that you weren’t wearing a bra, how exciting. He grips your breast tightly, admiring your body with every touch. John doesn’t waste any time, shoving his fingers inside of you pumping them in and out rapidly, this alone was enough to get you off, but John knew it wasn’t enough for him.You felt abruptly vacant as he pulled his slim fingers away from you. You practically whined before you felt his mouth prodding at your entry. His hand pressed against the side of your thigh, gripping it tightly as he looked up at you “John"! You moaned as his mouth worked wonders.

He was eating you out like he was starved. His tongue was moving eagerly and his finger was pressing harder into your clit..your climax building up. You were simply... right there.

"J-John"! You cried out. "I- I-- fuck"!

He was moving his tongue faster if possible, his gentle dark eyes trained on you. You bit the inside of your cheek, hips convulsing as you came, he licked the inside of your thigh before removing himself from between your hips.

He grabs your shoulders as you both stand up he pushes you onto your knees shoving the finger he used to fuck you with inside your mouth, his dick slapping your forehead “suck my fucking dick whore.” you obey shyly as you grab the base of it, deepthroating it slowly, your eyes water with tears as you push it inside your mouth as much as you can. He looks down at you and pushes his hair out of his face whimpering softly as you wrap your lips and tongue around him,, he grips on to your hair and pulls you away, then quickly pushes you onto your stomach against the edge of the bed. He grabbed your hips instantaneously, pressing his tip against your entrance, you felt him shove himself inside you quickly, he began to fuck you, his metal rings digging into the sides of your hips, sure to leave a mark “Such a good slut for me” he chuckled as he thrust into you roughly and slowly, flipping you over to face him quickly he grabs your hips and pushes your legs closer to him, grabbing one of them and putting it over his shoulder Your toes curled and your eyes rolled back into your head .John watched intently, feeling you clench and convulse around his cock. He felt his orgasm approaching and feeling you fall limp beneath him was the breaking point. John kept a close eye on you as you seemed out of breath as your feet curled and your eyes rolled up into your head, he watched you helplessly squirm underneath him this was his breaking point, he groaned in pain and in arousal, his hair and body shaking as he thrusts into you rapidly, releasing his hot cum inside of you. “You're mine” He groans out and falls to your side grabbing your cheek and kissing you softly “and i’m yours” He whispers out before, cleaning you up and getting dressed. “I’ll see you again y/n” he smiles before exiting out of your window and heading back to his dorm. This was for sure a score for his loser stoner virgin ass.

#wiley wiggins #john phillips #mitch kramer x reader #dazed and confused

15 notes · View notes

redwoodwv-hq · 2 months

Text

Name: Lucy Bell Age: 30 Town Occupation: Teacher Previous Occupation: Scientist Redwood Resident Length: Newly Arrived Faceclaim: Maika Monroe

Bullet Points:

Lucy was on course to earn her Bachelor of Science in Biomedical Engineering, specifically angling for the Neural Engineering Track.

She never lost her snarky personality. Originally a defense mechanism, it eventually simply became a part of her personality. It didn't endear her to superiors at Dielectric, alas.

Has several flash tattoos - few have any personal meaning.

Before you ask - yes her mom named her Lucy as a Beatles homage. Yes, Lucy finds it tacky. Yes she knows it's close to Lucille Ball, too.

She doesn't like talking about how she lost a finger on her left hand.

Biography:

Lucy was born to a mom in recovery, and never knew her father. She grew up mostly raised by maternal grandparents while her mother went through several rounds of rehab. Lucy, meanwhile, became a driven, intelligent young woman - with a real sarcastic wit. She excelled in soccer, but ended up needing a financial assistance scholarship for college.

She was indignant at needing financial assistance, being teased by classmates for her financial struggle, and eschewed parties to hold down a job around classes. By 2037 Lucy was in her last year of a bachelors program at John Hopkins University in Baltimore, Maryland.

Already having been approached by prestigious biomedical firms, Lucy was starting to feel she'd outrun her crappy circumstance of birth. Around the same time news of a new outbreak was starting one of the firms swooped in and recruited every student on the same track. Promised them the chance to change the world in their lifetime, to save mankind. That they were all needed.

Dielectric was their home for several years as the world shut down. Compartmentalized, kept ignorant of the goings on outside; told it was for the best if they weren't distracted by the outside world.

Small teams worked on different pieces of a greater whole, brainstorming, hypothesizing, testing, making odd supply requests from the men upstairs...

Until supplies stopped showing up.

An intellectual powerhouse, the cell found solutions to problems as they came. Predicted likely future issues and took what preventative measures they could. But eventually, the walls would be permeated.

What researchers survived that inevitable breach fled; they weren't built for brute force fighting. Lucy was never more grateful that she'd been at least kind of a jock in high school, able to outrun bigger, heavier predators.

A year of another kind of learn-by-doing, and Lucy fell ass-over-teakettle into Redwood. Specifically by setting off a hunting trap.

#redwood.characters

2 notes · View notes

chaoticneutrallucy · 2 months

Text

There's a hole in your logic

You who know all the answers...

| soundtrack | living space | style

Name: Lucy Archer Bell

Age: 30

Bday: February 12

Gender & Pronouns: Questioning AFAB, she/her

Originally From: Clackamas, Oregon

Most Recent Community: Dielectric Research Community, Connecticut

Sexuality: Homoromantic Bisexual

Time in Redwood: New as of February

Resides in: A bungalow near the school

Previous occupation: Biomedical/ Neuro-Engineer

Community occupation: Teacher (STEM)

Lucy was born to a mom in (temporary) recovery, and never knew her father. She grew up mostly raised by maternal grandparents while her mother went through several rounds of rehab, additional pregnancies and falls off the wagon. Lucy, meanwhile, became a driven, intelligent young woman - with a real sarcastic wit. She excelled in soccer, but ended up needing financial assistance for college.

Small teams worked on different pieces of a greater whole, brainstorming, hypothesizing, testing, making odd supply requests from the men upstairs...

Until supplies stopped showing up.

A year of another kind of learn-by-doing, and Lucy fell ass-over-teakettle into Redwood. Specifically by setting off a hunting trap.

| Headcanons |

Lucy was on course to earn her Bachelor of Science in Biomedical Engineering; specifically angling for the Neural Engineering Track.

She never lost her snarky personality. Originally a defense mechanism, it eventually simply became a part of her personality. It didn't endear her to superiors at Dielectric, alas.

Has several tattoos - few have any personal meaning.

Before you ask - yes her mom named her Lucy as a Beatles homage. Yes, Lucy finds it tacky. Yes she knows it's close to Lucille Ball, too.

She doesn't like talking about how she lost a finger on her left hand.

Created "A fully implantable,wireless interface for CNS for electronic recording, stimulation and microfluidic drug delivery."

Lucy -> Allison -> Joey -> Nina -> Jordan -> Jimmy

| Wanted Connections |

STEM nerds (open!) - Do you speak science, tech, engineering or math? Then Lucy would love to nerd it up with you. Conversation, projects, wild theories, whatever @orioncarnell , @tamirkamadcr

Chaotic Buds (1/2) - Lucy has high Int, low Wis and obviously would love buds of similar stat block. @aresmelaina ,

Kite String (0/1) - Who's going to tether this girl when she's getting unrealistic, too salty, etc?

Trap Spring (1/1) - She was brought in by a hunter whose trap she set off. Soz, dude. - @davxdalexander

Crossed Paths (2/3) - She was extremely behind the 8 ball on the whole apocalypse thing, running a couple years behind everyone else. Did you encounter her in the last year? Helped her out or took advantage? @frankxausting , @harry-thompson

#about #redwood.intro

3 notes · View notes