Before I begin my rant, I simply want to stress that this is my opinion on the second movie.
If you liked it, that is perfectly fine :) If you didn't like it, that is perfectly fine either :) If you agree with me, that is fine :) If you don't, that is fine too :)
To start on a positive note, here are things I liked about The Old Guard 2:
the fight choreography slapped
most of the time, the fighting felt like flirting, especially between Andy and Quynh, or when Nicky and Joe fought against the baddies together (Joe shoving the dude down on Nicky's blade with his foot? chef's kiss)
the usage of ancient weapons
I know we already see Andy, Joe and Nicky use their weapons of choice in the first movie BUT I loved how Nile took this thing of the wall and just went "That is my weapon now" or how Booker chose the saber-thingy, showing that he actually has fighting abilities in this area too (I mean come on, he fought with Napoleon!! And I liked how we got to see a glimpse of that), also Quynh's and Tuah's weapons, suiting their characters so well
the Nicky-Joe-banter
it felt good to see them joking around so much and laughing (not just smiling but full on laughing), stressing that they are not only their significant other on a romantic level but also their best friend
the team as a family
joking around during a mission, snippets of their history together, the post-mission drinking and eating, laughing, simply amazing
Nile being the kick-ass-lead woman
I loved that for her because it really suited her well
Copley's integration into the team
I was incredibly happy to see him actively participating in their missions and also him kicking ass too
Now, just as a warning, if you don't want to read my ranting, you can stop here :)
What I didn't like about the second movie - basically everything else.
Okay, jokes aside, here are some major points that annoyed me:
the characters all felt somehow extremely flat and not at all like their characters from the first movie
I especially noticed that with Nicky (he is my favorite character and I'm always hyper-focused on him, and I don't know if it makes sense, but I was really missing the emotional warmth and his kind, philosophical self? I don't know how to describe it, but all the characters didn't feel like themselves at all for me
Discord and Tuah
they literally popped up out of nowhere, didn't get any reasonable explanation, and Discord??? At first, I thought I had misheard because watching in English still is difficult from time to time, so I was like "Did he say Discord?" and my friend was like "Yup", and I tried so hard to contain my laughter because Discord??? Seems like Facebook and WhatsApp were too occupied to join the fight, and although Tuah seems like a nice guy, he too was missing substance
the whole shit with the first and last immortal and the fucking legend and what not
just no... if they had given me any good and logical explanation, then maybe, but they didn't, Tuah was just like "There is a legend" and Discord (*throws up for using this bad name*) was like "You are the last immortal, Nile", and that was it
they fully threw the dream-thing overboard (like Quynh's iron maiden and my expectations) and IT MAKES NO SENSE???!?!?!?!
if they hadn't explained it in the first movie, it could have worked (maybe) but they built a fundament on the "We dream of each other. They stop when me meet" and just chose to absolutely ignore this shit in the second one. No one knows Tuah before they meet him? Dreams?? And even if they had met him unknowingly, it is sooooo wild that Nile only dreams of them at the beginning of the second movie instead of in the first one, where she literally dreams of all of them???
the handling of Booker
oh, DON'T GET ME STARTED!!! I loved his character in the first movie because there is so much to Booker but in the second one he seemed to get downgraded to "Depressed, only wants to die, dies" and I fucking hate how they robbed us of any chance of reconciliation between Nicky and Booker or NickyJoe and Booker as a whole, and character development of Booker. Him and the team didn't have one significant scene in the whole movie and the only one who did get an impactful moment with him was Andy who he then saved (logically) but oh BOY HIS DEATH was SOOO stupid??? and the whole thing with "This is my expiration date" no, nooooooo, Andy could have killed all the guys he killed (while he got himself killed) with ease but they tried to show his death as some kind of heroic act and in my opinion it absolutely wasn't. I know that depression has a lot to do with how you act around people and how you treat them but you cannot tell me that Booker, who lived with this found family for like 200 years, laughed with them, cried with them, bonded with them, wasted no thought on saying some kind of goodbye to Nicky and Joe ???
the way they absolutely gave no fucks about Copley at the end
I know he betrayed them in the first one, but they can't just show us how he became some kind of team member, only to never get mentioned again after hearing some gun noises over the radio and him struggling against enemies, (Is he dead? Is he alive? Did he get kidnapped too?)
no kisses
okay, kisses are not always necessary, I get it, but when you have a healthy, gay relationship that has been existing for more than 900 years, I expected some more intimate gestures. Especially when Nicky held that beautiful little speech, they could have exchanged a quick kiss (listen, they don't even need to make out, okay?), but no, they shuffled quite awkwardly toward each other to make a forehead bonk (i like forehead bonks but I was missing a kiss). You want to tell me that two immortal warriors that have been together for more than 900 years wouldn't even kiss once during this whole fucking time?? Especially considering that Joe was like "I'm afraid we're gonna die"
the missing depth
one of the things I LOVED about the first movie was the emotional depth it had, this underlying melancholy, the pain and history of the characters, the great impact their actions had and still have on them - this one felt rushed, shallow, out of character, had logical errors and plot holes so big I could've fallen into
I have to say all the actors put their whole heart into this, and gave amazing performances (without them it would've been waaaaay worse to watch this movie), but I still felt my heart rate spike after the first twenty minutes out of sheer frustration and utter disbelief.
That's it for today. Thank you for listening to my rant🌼
Not the type of thing I could write but the thought hit so I’m sharing it for those who would enjoy it.
Been seeing a lot of Void!Danny and full hazmat Danny, space obsession, space core etc. and they all coalesced in my mind for this, especially after I recalled the hero Thirteen from BnHA.
Danny whose ghost form is like a living black hole. Full hazmat. Having to be a lot more careful because damage could cause him to leak and suck in everything around him. Running from the GIW and his parents not because he’s afraid they could actually dissect him, but knowing if they tried then they would all die.
Maybe he has other space based powers? Gravity manipulation. Making mini singularities etc.
Maybe he can eventually learn to control it and stay contained even without the suit. Maybe he learns how to make an additional form like his canon ghost form. Halfway between that he figures out how to change his hazmat into a proper space suit (futuristic form fitting sci-fi suit, not bulky NASA suit)
Imagine Yoongi shyly initiating cut physical contact with reader in public ☺️
Not exactly what you asked but I hope you'll still like it.
Holy moly, he'd be such a cute, little shit about it, enjoying every second of your reactions. He'd be subtle. He'd sneak behind you, slowly but steadily, whilst you're in the middle of a conversation. He'd let your hair fall down your back slipping off the tie that hold your hair up with a quick movement so he can use it as a curtain to hide himself once he rested his head on your shoulder, right in the crook of your neck, cheek on the thin fabric of your shirt and face turned toward you. He'd be so damn tempted to bite or suck on your soft skin but he knows how delicate your skin is and, despite the urge he feels to do it, he doesn't want to leave a mark. For now. So he'd just place his lips on your neck, sneaking his tongue out for a quick, tiny kitten lick, savoring the way you squirm against him, the way you stutter, tripping over words and the warmth of your skin getting hotter by the second.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/9
Fandom: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Connor/Gavin Reed, Amanda & Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Hank Anderson & Connor, Connor & CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60, Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900
Characters: Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Gavin Reed, Hank Anderson, Amanda (Detroit: Become Human), CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60, Upgraded Connor | RK900, Minor Characters
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Flashbacks, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, (and a bit of physical h/c too let's not kid ourselves), Fluff and Angst, Eventual Happy Ending, Protective Hank Anderson, Protective Connor, Gavin Reed Backstory, Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed are Siblings, Past Child Abuse, Connor Deserves Happiness, Connor Needs A Hug, Connor gets a hug, shifting pronouns, Zen Garden (Detroit: Become Human), Different Deviation Point, Elijah Kamski Being Elijah Kamski, this was supposed to be a oneshot..., Convin Secret Santa 2020
Summary:
Connor stands there in the snowfall and thinks of Gavin Reed, a man it had met only twice and with varying levels of antagonism, but had lived through a lifetime with. It thinks of his strength of spirit, his perseverance, his fortitude. And it wonders what it might be like, being loved by him. If his capacity for love is great enough to carve a path through the cold, plastic casing of an android.
Connor stands there in the snowfall and it wonders if Gavin would even care enough to try.
(Or, an alternate universe fic where soulbonds are real, memory-sharing can happen at any moment, and a certain android sent by CyberLife is about to be in for a rude awakening concerning those first two points.)
---
My contribution to the @convin-secret-santa-2020 event! This is the first chapter of my fic (there will be more, omg) for the amazing @sharysisnhmoonshadow!! I hope you like it! (Even if I went a little overboard! u^_^)
because i have to distract myself from the real world right now, so here ya go:
Harry spends the next hour or so getting things set to be on hold or handled by Niall, and then he heads home. All he wants to do is cool off, so he takes a quick shower with his favorite peppermint soap, then fills the tub with cold water. It helps, but he wishes he thought to use bubbles so he didn’t have to look at himself. It’ll be dark or dim in the bedroom—thank goodness for room darkening shades—so maybe Louis won’t notice his scars and stretch marks. Harry pinches the inside of his wrist and instead of waking him up, like he intended, it sends a shock of desire straight to his groin. Even his thighs feel hot.
When he’s gone through his closet inside his head and finally decided what to wear, Harry washes once more, thoroughly, and wraps himself in a towel. He listens to Simon & Garfunkel and laughs as he dances to songs from The Graduate, though he doesn’t think Louis would get the reference. He hasn’t dressed for his heat in probably ten years, if not more. And he’s pretty sure he took off whatever he wore before Richard got there that night.
Carefully, Harry steps into a pair of loose, black linen pants. It’s torture buttoning his shirt up, and he leaves the top two undone, but when he sees himself in the mirror, he unbuttons another one, then buttons it again. He’s too nervous to show so much skin. Harry laughs as he shakes his hair out; he doesn't want to show his nipples, but he knows he’ll be begging for Louis’ knot in a few hours.
“Oh my God,” Harry whispers aloud to himself as he lights the unscented candle on his chest of drawers. He can smell himself, now that he’s clean and no longer wearing scent neutralizers. The grey at his temples is less noticeable in the candlelight, but his hairline looks the same. Harry sighs. His legs tremble as he walks to the kitchen to have a glass of water and take his temperature. Ninety-nine point eight.
He reconsiders taking the lucidity meds. The only other time he’s taken something like that was prior to the heat during which he and Richard planned to, and did, conceive their youngest daughter. Harry wanted to remember it. Heaven only knows why. Begging to be knotted and knocked up. Pleading for his ex to breed him, and then crying—sobbing—his thanks when he agreed. Richard knotted him and Harry fell asleep. It wasn’t perfect, but such is life. In all their years together, his heat and Richard’s rut were never completely in sync. The heat at the spa was equally embarrassing in a different way. There’s no need for him to have three such memories. Though he does wonder what it’ll be like with Louis. It’s best not to be too curious.
When the doorbell rings, Harry’s stomach threatens to empty itself. By the time he reaches for the doorknob, it’s as settled as he can convince it to be.
It’s funny how they can both dress all in black, yet look so different. Harry tries to take in as much of Louis as he can at once, looking him up and down, eyes catching on the bulge in his sweatpants. It’s a testament to how close his heat is that he thinks about ease of access and hopes Louis isn’t wearing underwear with his loose fitting sweats.
Louis stuffs both hands in the front pocket of his hoodie and clears his throat. He looks younger than twenty-eight. That thought makes Harry wonder what twenty-eight looks like. He frowns and Louis asks, “Can I come in?”
“Yeah. Yes.” Harry steps back, opening the door wide. “Come in. Sorry.”
“No problem,” Louis says, lifting his wrist to lay it against Harry's forehead. Involuntarily, Harry sniffs him, but Louis either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care to acknowledge it. “Do you know what you want me to do?”
Harry’s face flames and he pulls his shirt away from his chest, fanning himself.
“What do you like to eat during—”
“I have a fridge. In my bedroom.”
Louis sputters a laugh. “Okay, but what do you like?”
“Sorry. Sorry, um… Fruit, usually. Yogurt. Water. That’s what I have.” Those are the easiest foods for him to subsist on. “Maybe tea if I seem tired?”
“Okay,” Louis says, and Harry watches him. “Show me where to go, babe.”
Harry takes him through the kitchen, in case Louis wants something. And he’s glad he did when Louis grabs a jar of peanut butter off the pantry shelf. He shows him to the spoons and Louis takes his time. Harry wonders if he’s stalling.
“Do you want to give me any…” Louis holds a spoon aloft and taps the top of the jar. “Guidelines? Likes? Dislikes?”
Harry shakes his head. “I just want… I want you to… use your instincts. Take care of me.” Closing his eyes tight, Harry pushes the words out. “Knot me. Feed me. Whatever you’re… Anything you’re willing to do.”
“Kissing?” Louis asks, and Harry nods.
“Kiss me, touch me, scent me, but…” Harry looks around the kitchen. He doesn’t want to have to show Louis to the bedroom. He just wants to be there already. “I don't want to have to think until my heat ends, starting right this second.”
“Okay,” Louis says. He crosses the kitchen to stand inches from Harry. “Do something for me?”
Harry nods and Louis lifts his hand, cupping Harry’s jaw. While Harry holds perfectly still, Louis leans closer and drags his lips over Harry's neck, up to the hinge of his jaw and back down to lick over the faded mark. This close, his scent is richer, washing over Harry, calming him.
“Your scent. Do you mask it? I don’t…” Louis presses kisses under his jaw.
“Yeah, yeah. I do. Not wearing neutralizers now though,” Harry says, tipping his chin up.
Louis tangles his fingers in Harry’s hair and pulls himself away. Desperate to feel the scratch of Louis’ beard, Harry chases after him without thinking, and Louis grins, giving in easily and taking Harry’s lips in a kiss. He hums and guides Harry closer by the waist, pressing their bodies together, gently rolling his hips.
“Go to the bedroom,” Louis says, sliding his hand over Harry's soft shirt where it’s tucked into the waistband of his trousers. “Strip the blankets off the bed. We only need a sheet. And get some towels. I’ll be there in a minute. Okay?”
Harry nods and does as he’s told, and pees for good measure. There’s a new box of Alpha condoms on the bedside table and he moves it to sit next to the stack of folded towels. Then he moves it back to the bedside table, finally dropping it into a drawer. They’re not necessary with Harry’s permanent birth control and the recent test results they sent each other after their first meeting. Harry unbuttons his shirt, spinning around when he hears Louis’ hum of approval.
“No more thinking?” Louis asks and Harry nods, turning slowly as Louis walks around the bed.
Louis pinches the fabric at the hem of Harry’s shirt and Harry gasps quietly as it slips off his shoulders. He looks from the piercing blue of Louis’ eyes to the soft, heavy sweatshirt draping his torso, wishing he could see more of Louis’ skin.
“Yeah, hold on,” Louis says, stepping back and yanking his hoodie over his head. His hair stands up and he combs it out with his fingers only to mess it up again when he tugs his t-shirt off. Harry can’t help but stare. And when he sees Louis’ pert nipples, slender frame, the muscles of his arms and chest and stomach… Harry can’t help but compare.
Louis lays his warm palm flat on the center of Harry’s chest and steps so close that Harry feels tall, looking down at him.
“Love how puffy your nipples are,” Louis says, sliding his hand over and tracing circles around the areola. Even as he pushes into the sensation, Harry tries to make himself pull away. His husband stopped playing with his nipples when he got pregnant the first time, not that he touched them often before, and Harry’s never… He’s never really enjoyed masturbation. It’s always left him feeling a little lost and morose afterward. And he’s always worried so much about being caught, it makes it difficult. Louis gently pinches Harry’s nipple again. “Sensitive. What about here?”
Slowly, Louis traces Harry’s silhouette with his hands, reaching around to palm Harry’s ass through the loose linen fabric of his pants. Harry grunts and digs his fingers into Louis’ hips, grabbing at his sweatpants, cheeks burning at his shamelessness. Louis makes quick work of Harry’s linen pants, God bless a drawstring. He flushes even hotter when he’s reminded that he’s naked underneath.
“You alright?” Louis asks, voice low, and Harry shivers.
His body temperature is still rising, but he’s hot enough now that he feels cold. His sweat evaporates before it can bead on his overheated skin, and he’s thirsty. Louis cups his face in one hand and Harry sways towards the touch, closing his eyes, breathing in the swirl of their scents mixing.
Louis’ other hand is cool where it rests on Harry’s hip, and Harry wants Louis to touch him everywhere. As Harry thinks it, Louis sweeps his hand up his side and over his ribs. He thumbs at Harry’s nipple just long enough for Harry to want more, sliding his palm around to Harry’s back, where he rubs small circles at the base of his spine. Every muscle in Harry’s body slackens slightly, and a quiet moan slips past his lips as he relaxes forward, right into a kiss.
Tipping his head, Louis pulls Harry tight against him, mouths brushing together as he says, “Get on the bed. Want you to have some water.”
Harry sits at the edge of the mattress, looking at the curtains on the window, frowning until Louis brushes his hair from his forehead, tipping Harry’s chin up so he has to look at him. He takes Harry’s hand and wraps it around a water bottle, helping him drink until he finishes it.
“Lay back on the pillows, Harry. Want to see your pretty cock.”
“Oh… Okay,” Harry says, clumsily situating himself closer to the headboard. His mind feels sluggish, but not as bad as it’ll be soon. Everything is unfamiliar, even though he knows this bed and this room and this man. Louis.
From head to toe, Harry’s skin feels like it might burst into flames, more from embarrassment than hormones, but he looks up at the ceiling, closes his eyes, and reminds himself that Louis wants to help him through his heat. Harry starts to roll over onto his stomach, but Louis stops him, gripping his thighs. At least his blushes are hidden by his already flushed skin.
Louis urges Harry to lift his hips and puts a towel beneath him, then helps Harry bend his knees and plant his feet on the mattress, crawling between his legs to lean down and suck one of Harry’s nipples between his lips. Arching into the touch, Harry wants more of Louis’ mouth, even as his cheeks burn with the embarrassing knowledge of what will happen if he keeps it up. With his hands to either side of Louis’ face, Harry guides him to his other nipple, body jerking as Louis’ knuckles brush the underside of his dick. He can feel Louis’ grin when he wraps his hand around it.
Propping himself up with one arm, Louis dips down for a kiss while he slowly strokes him, thumbing over the head. He barely pulls away, just far enough that his beard and mustache scratch Harry’s lips as he talks. “Love your dick. Big for an Omega.”
“I…” Harry ducks his head, hiding his face against Louis’ neck and inhaling deeply. “I know.”
“You ever top?” Louis asks, and Harry shakes his head, burrowing his nose into Louis’ skin. “That’s fine. Was thinking of riding you if you get…”
Shaking his head again, Harry groans, fucking into Louis’ hand. He manages to croak out, “No.”
“Okay, baby.” Louis releases his cock and settles his weight between Harry’s legs. The pressure against his dick makes his hips buck uncontrollably. Louis kisses his lips, his chin, the hollow of his throat, and sits up a bit. “Want to get you off with my mouth first, if that’s okay.”
All Harry can do is nod.
Louis trails kisses over his stomach and Harry stills, sucking in and tightening his abs until Louis nips at his love handle and surprises a laugh out of him. The tips of Louis’ fingers brush over the skin of his thigh, slipping in the wetness between his legs.
One finger slides inside easily and Louis hardly waits before making it two. He takes Harry’s dick into his mouth, and reaches up, pinching and twisting his nipple. He’s barely sucked on the head when Harry’s entire abdomen cramps with the force of his first orgasm.
He wakes out of his heat a little more than forty-eight hours later, standing in his shower, face tucked into Louis’ neck, breathing in his scent, while Louis fingers him clean.
“You’re back, hmm?” Louis asks, plunging his fingers in and out of Harry’s body, jerking him slowly with his other hand, letting the water wash everything away. Harry nods, whining and chasing Louis’ fingers when he tries to pull them free. “Okay. Shh…”
Louis strokes him faster, holding him close, bringing him off so effortlessly that Harry’s mouth falls open as he comes, clenching around Louis fingers, dripping over his fist.
“Thank you,” Harry mutters when Louis slips his fingers out, petting over his rim.
“Hush,” Louis whispers, sucking Harry’s lip into his mouth. Barely able to stand on his own, Harry tries to reciprocate, working Louis’ knot with his hands while Louis jerks himself off. He squeezes Harry’s ass, making him stand up straight, and when the tip of Louis’ middle finger catches his rim, Harry forces himself down on it with a whine.
Louis gasps, knot swelling in Harry’s hands as he helps him through his orgasm, though his knot doesn’t last long this close to the end of Harry’s heat. When Louis finishes, they cling to each other in the shower, and neither of them seem able to stand alone. Sated, clean, and exhausted, they work together to put new sheets on the bed.
Still foggy, but more and more aware of his surroundings, Harry climbs on the bed, sprawling on his stomach. He asks, “Is it Monday?”
“Saturday,” Louis says, tucking himself into Harry’s side. He runs the palm of his hand over Harry’s back, following the path of his spine, resting his hand at the bottom. “Think you’re clear of it. If you need me, I’ll wake up.”
“Saturday,” Harry says.
“Go to sleep,” Louis says, pressing a kiss to Harry’s shoulder blade.
Han Yoojin is five years old when he opens their front door to get the morning paper for his dad and finds a wadded up blanket on their doorstep.
His head tilts to the side. Had he somehow brought his blanket with him and dropped it? But no, he doesn't recognize it. None of his blankets is the color of the sea. He looks around for someone who might be its owner but finds that he's alone.
With nothing else to be done, he bends down to pick it up, thinking of bringing it inside and asking his mom to deal with it, and falls onto his backside when it unexpectedly moves.
The blanket is wiggling.
Slowly, Yoojin shifts onto his hands and knees and tugs at the folds, expecting to see an animal trapped within. A small dog, perhaps. Or maybe a large cat.
But rather than an answer to his wish for a pet, what he finds is... a baby.
Yoojin's mouth drops open.
He knows he should run back inside and call his parents, but his eyes stay riveted on the baby's tiny face. As if in a trance, he reaches out and gently, oh so gently, presses a hand to its cheek. It gives no reaction, neither snuggling against his palm nor shying away from it. It simply stares blankly up at the sky. But the lack of a reaction doesn't stop Yoojin from feeling like something clicks.
A fierce wave of affection bursts in his chest, swift and all-consuming. It feels like his heart has caught on fire.
Drawing in a breath through his still-gaping mouth, he pulls the baby in his lap and cradles it in his arms.
His mind churns out questions one after another: Who is this baby? How did it get here? Isn't it cold? Where are its parents?
And finally, the question that tugs at the corners of Han Yoojin's lips and makes his arms tighten their hold:
I'm frustrated because I've sent anons to a few blogs I follow and they haven't answered them/are completely ignoring my asks. Those blogs are so ungrateful. Like a LITERAL stranger actually fricking cares about sending a fricking question/sentence/comment/whatever to you. I am so annoyed right now and I just needed vent off a bit. How do you feel when someone ignores your ask? Cause even if it's stupid(by stupid I mean random not hate) you should let it be known that you saw the anon.
ok im gonna be honest i dont answer asks sometimes.. its not because i dont want to answer it or i dont like them its just sometimes ill sit there for 10+ minuets trying to think of a way to reply and i end up deleting it. i appreciate any aska that are nice 100% but i think if someone sends a random ask and its not answered then its really nothing to be nerved about. also there could be tons or reasons that they might not have answered it. if your on anon then its a bit harder for someone to put an actual person to that ask and its a bit easier to just not answer it i guess.. be patient with people answering asks... in know i get pretty easily overwhelmed with asks so just try to be nice and understand if it takes a bit or it doesnt get answered, just try to send another one maybe or one more explained!
Recently, I've been feeling a significant amount of regret regarding my decision to attend an HBCU. Being at an HBCU has shown me some of the toxic mentalities that occur even in the intelligent African American community. I spend a lot of my time alone wondering if I would feel differently if I attended a PWI or would I notice this same negativity. One of the significant focuses of my HBCU is culture, but without a present, does culture have any prominence? Without the basics, do the additional traits matter? Without a now, should the primary focus be the past? I feel a level of loneliness and I wonder if the loneliness I feel is a result of my own isolation or if it is because I try not to involve myself in the destructive contemporary culture that is my HBCU and the surrounding community. Transferring has crossed my mind dozens of times, but the realization of the significant effort it would take to completely move and the credits that I would lose dissuades me. I have all motivation. I feel like I have no real friends. I don't enjoy being here and I don't see it getting any better. I hope it does. - Disappointed HBCU student
