#So it just sounds. I don't know odd? To open applications for it??

[youve-been-etho-d]

Other systems do like, partner system applications?? And no offense but I don't understand them. Like at all.

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

Sorry I was reading through the replies on that Deaf post and I saw you'd written this: "it's a university known for its pastoral care. Fully abled students are actually in a minority here." I... how? Where is this university?? As someone who had to drop out of university because my needs were unmet, that just sounds unreal. How has that even happened??

Okay this answer could get very boring very quickly so I will do my very best to keep it brief and succinct, like my patience

TL;DR: we sit in the middle of an odd Venn diagram of factors that just mean we are more attractive to disabled students (certainly more attainable in a lot of cases), and the university is increasingly trying to lean into that.

Longer answer under the cut:

I suppose it's a perfect storm of a few factors. Necessary bureaucratic background: Higher Education in Wales went through a phase about 10-15 years ago where the various Education Ministers of the day, in a fit of mid-life crisis, decided there were too many universities and they needed to be streamlined by merging with each other (WHY, CARWYN), which had... uh, mixed results. Some good, some bad. But! It didn't affect every Welsh university. The bigger more prestigious ones, older and fancier of name, avoided the mergers, and in many cases struck out on their own away from umbrella institutions (Aberystwyth, Bangor, Cardiff and Swansea all notably left the University of Wales banner and went independent, for example. That meant there were a mere four universities still in Cardiff lol okay actually maybe Carwyn had a point)

But that left the smaller and more local unis to merge and band together to become single universities with campuses in different towns. The two big examples are University of South Wales (in Cardiff, Newport and Pontypridd), and University of Wales Trinity St David (in Swansea, Carmarthen and Lampeter; and yes, it is a deeply stupid name, isn't it?)

So factor number one: this is not one of the major prestigious universities with a Big Damn name.

Factor number two: this is also not a university with an obvious town/city attached.

Already, these two factors make it a bit more niche, and less likely to attract the academic cream of the crop; the little dweeby swats who live in their lockers. 18-year-olds applying to uni for the first time will not think of this one, because they haven't heard of it and don't know where it is. At 18, you're either going to look up a specific town, or a specific course, or a specific university; and if the latter, you're going to go for one with a big prestigious recognisable name. You're not going to go for University of Vaguely South Wales Somewhere, and you're really not going to go for Trinity St David in Fuck Knows Where.

...but you are if you get rejected by your first choice unis, and need to pick up a spot through Clearing, which is basically a week in the summer where rejected students cry to UCAS and beg for a spot on a similar course in a different uni that hasn't yet been filled. And our courses are rarely filled by the time Clearing happens because we get fewer applicants, so we welcome these poor rejected weeping souls with open arms.

Factor number three: you are more likely to be rejected by your first choice university if you are in some way disabled. Particularly if you have a learning difficulty. Not even intentionally, necessarily, but we all know how disability complicates academic performance.

So students applying through Clearing are much more likely to be disabled, many lacking a diagnosis (and possibly unaware themselves, in the case of neurodivergence). A huge chunk of our school leavers come aboard via Clearing.

Factor number four: while our courses are extremely academically rigorous (I say this as someone who just finished a PG Cert with Oxford University, and honestly, there was very little difference in academic quality), they tend to have more of a focus on practical applications and vocational elements. They're more hands-on, in other words. This tends to suit neurodiverse people with limited desire or ability to sit in a lecture hall and listen.

Factor number five: 80% of our intake comes from within a 50 mile radius of the campus (probably thanks to the merger, actually - no one knows where we are).

Factor number six: This campus had a fairly meteoric rise - from Institute of Higher Education, to Metropolitan university, to Major Institution in the span of about 25 years. As an IHE they were dealing with 16-18 year olds looking for vocational alternatives to A Levels. When dealing with that age group, pastoral care and support is generally much higher, because those are children. The move up the ranks to university happened too quickly for that culture of support to go away, and so it's stayed. Particularly because:

Factor number seven: a huge proportion of our students, thanks to all of the above, are people who never thought they could "do" university. Often, they were actively told by teachers, parents etc that they couldn't. Often, this is because of disability of some form, especially neurodivergence. Many are mature students, looking to go back and get the degree they always wanted. But with us, the pastoral care and support means they do make it over the finish line. Which means:

Our reputation is that our degrees are more "achievable". High pastoral support, small class sizes, personable lecturers, good disability services - it all adds up. Our students aren't just a face in a crowd. If they start to fall by the wayside, we notice. We are much more accessible than our neighbours, who will cram in 60 students to a 40 person room and make the overspill watch the lectures on TV screens next door, and will charge students £300 for an ADHD assessment that doesn't even result in a formal diagnosis.

So the result is that we're weirdly disability-friendly, and we do lean into it. We're gearing up for the next academic year right now, and the Vice Chancellor literally mentioned in his briefing this year that disability is almost a feature of our student population and that's something we need to accommodate. More than 50% have a disability of some sort.

ALL OF WHICH IS NOT TO SAY THAT WE ARE PERFECT, my god, as an institution I have definitely seen the ball get dropped from time to time. It would also vary between department, I expect. But yeah, on balance, we end up with a lot of disabled students, and the culture is one of support and accommodation for that.

As I final note, I'm so sorry that wasn't your experience, and you had to drop out. That's so incredibly unfair, and it shouldn't have happened. (And if you want to try again in an environmental course in Wales DM me lol I can hit you up)

[kmze]

Kw said Stefan & Caroline were ideologically at odds because he wanted to be human and she wanted to be a vampire and I was like umm maybe you hate them Mr. but just don't spout absolute nonsense.Caroline was a vampire and she was still being the most humane of all humans-raising kids,thinking of starting a school for kids,wanting to get married while Stefan who became human was not only alive despite suffering multiple fatal wounds on consecutive days but was still somehow a human with just a small syringe of cure in his system despite losing lots of blood and in the end had just a scratch on his forehead( 'You're a Harry Potter,Stefan')And then like you mentioned,he went on a revenge mission and got kicked & beaten by a 4000 year old psychic and was still A-okay!I don't know I don't think humans see that as day-to-day activity.

I swear every-time that man opened his mouth after the finale I wanted to throw up because he could not stand the idea of Stefan living and not being with Elena in the finale. So I found the article to re-read it and like he's missing the very key aspect that STEFAN HAD THE CURE FORCED ON HIM! He DID NOT want to be human, he literally feel back into depression because he was human, I swear no one ever actually listens to what Stefan says. Here's what he says to Caroline when they're searching for the woman Ripper Stefan left to die and he has a major attitude with Caroline and she rightfully calls him out:

Stefan: Look, I don't know what to think. I don't know how to deal with what I want or what I thought I was gonna have. I don't know what to do.

Does that sound like someone who's happy he's human?! Even Damon told him to remember all the times he wanted to be human and he was not here for it. I mean we already did the Stefan doesn't want to be human plot in S7 and he said out loud being human SUCKS! He wanted forever with Caroline, he promised her forever "I pledged my life to Caroline forever" 8x07 and when that got taken away he was miserable. He felt like a burden and it took the pep talk from Damon and killing Cade for him to be like it doesn't matter how many years I have left I just want to spend them with Caroline. Being turned into a human was his punishment, that was what he got for choosing to turn his humanity off and killing Enzo and like that's fine, he was a maniac working for Cade but that's what it was punishment!

I don't even understand what he means by Caroline didn't want to take the sure because it wasn't even an option? I mean the cure is probably the most annoying plot device this show ever did and they can't even follow their own mythology about it. And again, Caroline loved Stefan no matter what she still wanted to marry him as a human and it's not like they were the only human/vampire relationship I just...

Honestly Anon I think the fact that Stefan kept bleeding and being put in danger ALL THE TIME as a human showed even more how much the writers did not feel Stefan as human. Stefan always walked head-first into danger and it was like that aspect of him did not work as a human but the amount of times he was HEMORRHAGING BLOOD I truly could not. He was stabbed with a pole, shot, stabbed in the hand and beaten by a 4000 year old psychic. Which like you said resulted in a scratch on the forehead meanwhile he was being kicked where he had been shot and stabbed less that two days ago.

That article also makes it kind of obvious Kevin couldn't care less about the Salvatore school and Julie trying to do the spin-off which is why he especially did not care about that being Stefan's redemption. It's just amazing this guy started two shows left and then came back and expected everyone to want to do what was applicable to the plot when he left. Say what you want about Julie but she's the showrunner who is actually able to make seasons upon seasons of a show and KW keeps getting his shows cancelled after two seasons.

Still endlessly amazing too how Stefan had to die for killing Enzo who showed up in S5 but Damon was absolved for killing Tyler a character who’d been there since the pilot.

[rimetin]

just for fun: a short passage from each of my current wips (or shit that has a decent chance of someday being published anyway). under rm

*

*(one piece; canon compliant smolaw)

Smoker has met Trafalgar Law before. In a sense. He'd had the misfortune of being there when the brat teleported himself in the middle of New Marineford harbor with a crate of still beating human hearts. (There's living up to your epithet, and then there's whatever the hell Trafalgar is doing.) He hadn't even flinched when some fifty-odd bayonets took aim straight at him, just smirked and kicked the lid off the crate, revealing its grisly bounty.

And then he'd all but demanded a spot among the Seven Warlords.

Smoker's hands had itched to arrest the smug little bastard himself, but for some reason he can't even begin to conceive, his higher ups had accepted that macabre application. Trafalgar had spent two nights in a cell, all the while treating it like a stay at a four star hotel, and walked out with a shiny new title and functional immunity.

*

*(one piece; modern au smolaw)

"I don't do relationships."

"Yeah, ‘cos you always scare 'em off," Penguin points out, resuming his task of eradicating his second stack of pancakes. "Like that guy, whatshisface, Diez?"

"Drake," Shachi supplies helpfully.

"Yeah, that guy. The buff redhead." Penguin swallows with a loud gulping sound. "I swear, he had bigger tits than most chicks I know."

*

*(one piece; canon divergent smolaw)

Smoker isn’t avoiding Tashigi. Not exactly. He just has a lot of duties. A ship to run, calls to make, paperwork to fill. But honestly, he’s surprised how long it takes her to get fed up with his shiftiness and physically drag him aside, hands coated in haki to keep him from literally wafting away.

“Smoker, sir,” she says when she lets go of him at the bow of the ship, well out of earshot of any of their men. “We need to talk. No, it cannot wait,” she adds when he opens his mouth.

*

*(one piece; canon compliant-ish lawbin)

Robin purses her lips. "My very existence has already resulted in two buster calls." Are you prepared to bring that upon those you love, is the unspoken question. Upon anyone who so much as interacts with you, even?

Law leans forward, steepling his fingers. "You don’t think I know what I'm asking." Not a question.

"I'm merely concerned as to whether you're aware of all the ramifications."

Law is quiet for a long moment, deep in thought. Robin is almost beginning to think he might give it a rest when he seems to come to some sort of decision, and again his eyes are on hers.

"I…" He clears his throat, his voice betraying more than he’d like. She knows how that feels, and so draws no attention to it. Encouraged, he tries again. "I was born in the city of Flevance."

*

*(one piece; canon compliant-ish lawbin)

"What you're suggesting is," he drawls, dragging his syllables out, "that we play twenty questions."

She chuckles. "I suppose so, yes."

"With our childhood trauma."

“You can simply say no,” she suggests, placating.

*

*(one piece; canon compliant-ish law and sengoku)

"I have a proposal, Sengoku."

"Don't want it."

"A deal, if you will," the pirate continues like there'd been no interruption at all.

"I didn't make deals with pirates when I was Fleet Admiral, boy, and I'm not planning on starting now." But Sengoku would be hard pressed to deny his interest, a fact he knows is conveyed by the snails facilitating their conversation. A fact that should concern him more, but he's willing to pin that on the alcohol.

"Was it not the Navy that was willing to buy the Ope-Ope Fruit from Diez Barrels for five billion berries?" The snail taunts. "Either way, I'm not offering this as a pirate, and I'm not offering it to a marine."

"What as, then?" Sengoku asks, though he has a feeling he already knows the answer.

There is a distinct pause, the snail once again betraying hesitancy. "To a father," it finally says, quieter than before. "As a son."

*

*(the magnus archives; canon divergent jon and everyone, mainly melanie)

"So what exactly are we going to do here?" Jon asks once the hospital is in view.

Melanie shrugs. "Dunno. I thought maybe you could do your… compelling… thing. Just ask around."

Jon pushes his glasses up and rubs his eyes with one hand. "Ask what, exactly? And again, please don't call it 'my thing'."

"Well what else am I supposed to call it?" Melanie stops and turns to him. A hand on her hip, head cocked to one side. Squinting her eyes and Jon feels rather like a bug in a petri dish. "Someone here has got to remember something. We just have to find them. So c'mon, put your compelling face on."

*

*(the owl house; canon compliant hunter and darius)

"Did you know?"

Did you 'know'.

If Darius wanted to be pedantic - which he normally would, being pedantic is very much his thing - he might play dumb, ask for elaboration. Thing is, the situation doesn't need any elaboration.

Of course Darius had known. He'd known even before Hunter was ever promoted, before he'd seen the familiar crooked teeth and untameable lock of hair and those damned garnet eyes. He'd known because he had been entrusted with the secret against a vow to protect it with his life, and he had resented the knowledge from the very first second.

But Darius Deamonne, much like another prominent family involved with the abomination coven, always holds up his end of a deal.

*

*(juno steel; canon compliant-ish juno and rita)

The first thing Rita notices when she wakes up is the comm's incessant ringing.

No, that’s not quite true. It's the second thing. The first thing she notices is the killer headache, really killer, it reminds her of that one time Frannie had her drink a Jupiterbomb and truth be told Rita can’t remember much after the fact. Except she may have accidentally set the bar on fire and hacked into a Mercurian trillionaire’s personal bank accounts to pay off a friendly group’s student loans and, come to think of it, wasn’t that the night of the opening gala for the new whatevers-building-they-didn’t-really-care but they'd had Frannie’s favorite band The Ubiquitous Unicorns (or Double U, or W) playing so Rita hacked the two of them onto the guest list and then they were drinking expensive Outer Rim champagne with real gold bits in it and - anyway, the point is, the morning after that had been the worst Rita had ever had, and that’s counting that one time she’d gotten brained and twisted her arm on a case with Mista Steel and he'd made her take a week off (and after he’d beat the guy to a pulp and broken his own hand doing it, too, bless his soft lady heart).

So to reiterate, the first thing Rita notices is her head positively murdering her, and the second is the comms playing the role of the undertaker piling metaphorical dirt on her coffin.

*

*(juno steel; canon compliant-ish juno and nureyev)

"Just a friendly game of Tritonian Trifle," Buddy says instead.

"Pass." Juno turns to lean back on the counter, one arm crossed tightly across his chest, the other holding the coffee mug to his lips.

"Suit yourself, darling."

"Enough talk," Vespa growls. "Deal already, Ransom, if you're done slipping cards into your sleeves."

Nureyev laughs. "Now, Vespa, surely you don't think I'd stoop to such rudimentary methods of cheating."

*

*(the magnus archives; canon compliant jmart)

"I'm a, a bit of a perfectionist--"

Martin can't help interrupting with a loud snort. "A ‘bit', are you?"

"I know, I know..." Jon waves him away, but to Martin's satisfaction his eyes hold a bit more warmth now. "Call it a character flaw. 'If it's worth doing, it's worth doing properly', my grandmother used to say." He chuckles again, more genuine. "Maybe it runs in the family."

*

*(the magnus archives; canon compliant jon and daisy)

"So..." He wets his lips, casting about for the words. "You're saying my... situation... is just an addiction with a- a cosmic horror twist?"

Daisy chuckles. "I'm not wrong, though."

"I suppose so." Jon gives one more lasting look to the coin before pocketing it. He finds that despite its size, it's a comforting weight where it rests against his thigh, and it burns almost as hot as the touch of the Desolation. "You'd know."

[megan-loves-surveys]

#29.

Are either of your parents engaged but not married yet? No.

Do you cuddle with your pet (if you have one)? -

What college did you want to attend as a kid? I had no preference. The whole wanting a specific college thing sounds like an American thing. I didn't even know what I wanted to study let alone where I wanted to do it LOL.

Do you have a pet gecko? No.

Are you scared of reptiles? Depends.

Honestly, have you ever eaten raw cookie dough? No.

Where would you most like to go in your state, etc that you haven’t been? I don't live in America, and there's not really anywhere I want to go in NZ tbh. I'd rather travel outside the country.

Who was the last member of the opposite sex you laid in a bed with? My boyfriend.

About what things are you most selfish? Chips xD I don't like to share them haha.

Are you camera shy? Why/why not? No. I legit did a project where I took a selfie in a wrestling shirt every single day for 4 months lol.

What is one small thing your significant other does that makes you happy? If you are single, what is one small thing a friend does to make you happy? Just texting me cute things haha, I love when I open my texts and there's one from him.

From inside of your house, how many doors lead outside? Two, and they're actually not that far apart from each other.

Who was the last person to give you flowers? Dunno, cos my boyfriend knows I don't really like flowers and doesn't give them to me.

What do you think would be the hardest thing for you to give up? Internet, lol.

Do you like BBQ sauce? I like it on some things, it's my second fave sauce for chicken nuggets haha.

Did the last person you kissed ever give you a hickey? No.

How many subscribers do you have on your YouTube channel? I've uploaded maybe 2 videos the entire time I've had it, but somehow I have like 250 subscribers lol.

If you could have a car in any color you wanted, which color? Something bright like purple or green, easy to spot in the carpark and nobody will dare steal the super bright car that sticks out.

What is your favorite Avril Lavigne song? None.

What was the last thing you were mad at a doctor about? Dunno.

Is your mother a lesbian? No.

Do any of your close friends NOT have a Facebook account? Not that I know of.

Would you ever consider getting dreadlocks? No.

When was the last time you swam in a pool? A long time ago.

What was the last thing you said out loud? "Took him long enough" lol, we were talking about WWE Raw - Damien Priest came out to the ring but it took him ages.

Have you ever wanted to be a nurse? No.

Who or what do you worship? Nothing.

What was the last song you listened to on repeat? Liberty X - Saturday

What song do you want played at your wedding? -

What are three of the most painful things you have ever stepped on? Lego is probably on the list LOL. Perhaps a pin?

If applicable, what song are you listening to right now? -

If you could choose three US states to visit, which three states would you pick? New York, Louisiana and Nevada.

Have you ever donated blood? No, I remember when I tried when I was younger they told me I didn't weigh enough or something lol.

Would you rather attend a yoga class or a Zumba class? Zumba. I couldn't do yoga, my shoulder is too fucked up.

Have you written anything down today? Not yet.

Do you own a pair of pink pants? No, and I wouldn't own any, pink is my least fave colour.

Do you normally eat healthy? I try to.

What is the best compliment you’ve ever received? A woman who was interviewing me for a job said I was well educated and well spoken, it felt so good when she said that.

Do you believe in miracles? Well... maybe? I mean, me not dying when I got hit by a car seems like a miracle cos if it had been a tiny bit in either direction I would have died on impact.

What are three ways in which you are not normal? I have very... unusual fetishes lol, I get migraines and the combination of hobbies I have is odd haha, people have told me that my combo of being a wrestling fan who loves 90s and 00s pop music is funny xD

Which genre of music do you listen to the most? Pop.

Last person you kissed, are they into any type of sports? Which ones? Yep, he likes football/soccer, wrestling, cricket and all the random sports you get at the Olympics haha.

Does your best friend have a job? She does, she's a cleaner who works at a hospice. She's always done that job, she's been a cleaner since we finished high school but she used to clean hotel rooms.

Do you ever visit people at work? I've been to my boyfriend's office a few times cos we were going out after work but he finished after me so I met him there. I also used to visit my Mum at work cos she worked in the city.

When you move out your house (or if you already have moved out) do you plan on still visiting your parents’ house? Oh, for sure. If I ever move in with my boyfriend, I'd be down the street from my Mum cos we live on the same street hahaha.

Do you usually take home leftovers if you eat out in a restaurant? No.

Have you ever ghost rode the whip (put your car on auto and dance next to it as it’s moving)? Do you want to? I don't have a car, but if I did, I wouldn't do that, it sounds stupid lol.

Why did you stop liking the last person you liked? He ghosted me lol.

What do you think of long-term relationships? I'm in one, so yay? Hahahah.

Do you have a lot of social media accounts? Do you update them all regularly? Depends what you consider social media cos I have accounts on loads of websites.

When you’re in trouble, do your parents ever “middle name” you? Haha I'm sure they did back in the day.

When was the last time you got a new tattoo or piercing? Do you have any plans to get either in the future? I don't have any tattoos, and I had my ears pierced as a kid but they got infected and I had to let them close up. Turns out I had a nickel allergy that I didn't know about. And nah, I don't want either going forward.

Are you patriotic at all? Why/why not? Well, I shit on NZ constantly lol, but when other people diss it I get mad. Only I'm allowed to talk shit about my crappy country xD

Are you any good at packing a suitcase? NOOOOOO, packing actually REALLY stresses me out because I’m convinced I won’t put everything in “right.”

Have you ever had a white hot chocolate? What did you think? Probably.

Do you ever get eczema? No.

Have you ever mowed a lawn? No. And I'll never have to cos my shoulder is too fucked up to ever push a lawnmower lol.

Is there anyone you would do literally anything for? Yes.

Have you ever done a “knock-and-run” prank? No.

Have you ever stabbed a friend in the back, intentionally or not? Most likely.

What’s the longest you’ve ever slept in one go? When I was younger, I'd sleep in on weekends till like 2 or 3pm, so at least 12 or 13 hours lol.

Have you ever dated someone with an accent different than yours? I am at the moment, my boyfriend is American!

Have you ever worked two jobs at once? No.

Who does most of the housework around your house? My Mum and I split it.

Do you enjoy the smell and taste of cinnamon? Sure.

Do you own a pocketknife, or any other kind of multi-tool? No.

What did your mother study at university? She didn't go.

What was the last thing you took a video of? I think it was at the Five concert haha, I posted it on YouTube.

What are some of your least favorite foods? Onions. I fucking hate them.

How old were you when you learned how to drive? I only have my learner's, so never lol.

Have you ever used a public pay phone? I don't think I have.

Do you know what the most common bird is in your area? Sparrows, doves or seagulls lmao. We have a few doves that live outside our house, they're adorable.

How many teeth have you had extracted? A few, cos I had too many as a kid.

What’s a Halloween movie that you enjoy? None.

Would you ever walk a runway if given the opportunity? Probably not.

Would you say you’re in a good place mentally? Mostly, though I've been having a bit of anxiety over my health lately.

What’s a popular candy that you do not like? Anything with nuts in it, or mint.

Do you bite your nails, cut them, or keep them long? Long, but not too long, I trim them when they get too long. But I also don't like them to be too short cos longer nails make my fingers look better.

Do you ever have to babysit? I've never done it/

Do you sing when alone? Yes xD

Favorite pastel color? Purple or blue.

Favorite thing cats do? One of my kitty friends who lives in our complex, does this thing where you hold your hand out and they jump up and bump it with their head, it's so fucking cute.

Butterflies, or dragonflies? Butterflies.

Favorite kind of candy bar? Maltesers if they count. Otherwise Three Musketeers or Hersheys Cookies & Cream.

Favorite childhood store? A toy store of some sort.

Do you dream a lot? Do you remember your dreams? Yes, and sometimes.

Have you ever lucid dreamed? Dunno.

Have you ever intentionally killed an animal for fun? No.

Did the person you lost your virginity to appreciate it? I don't know if the guy even knew I was a virgin, lol.

What character trait are you most ashamed of? I hate how I procrastinate lol.

Do you prefer waffles or pancakes? Waffles, but I like pancakes too.

Are you craving anything right now? Not right now, but I think I'll def crave chips at some point today haha.

Are you content just blending in with the crowd? Obviously not, as I dye my hair blue and purple. No way you can blend in with that hair colour.

Who is your celebrity crush? Jon Moxley <3

If you had to choose a random color to dye your hair, what would you choose? Blue & purple :P But if I couldn't choose those, then green.

Do you like the color orange? Yes.

Have you ever shunned a family member or vice-versa? No.

Favorite shade of blue? I like them all!

Favorite soup? Chicken noodle.

Do you like mangoes? Yes.

What do you want most? To travel.

How is your mental health? Pretty good, but I have had some anxiety lately.

What are you thankful for currently? A lot of things.

What’s an unpopular opinion you have politically? Not sure tbh.

Name a song that’s fun to sing along to. SO MANY.

Who is tallest in your family? My Uncle, he's like 6'3".

Do you currently have a headache? No, thank god.

What’s the first thing you usually do when you get off work or school? Depends on the day - sometimes I go to the gym, sometimes I go to my boyfriend's house, sometimes I go home.

If you could be famous for anything, what would you choose to be famous for? Hmm, writing.

Who is your favorite YouTuber? Call Me Kevin. Sad that he's taking a step back, but he deserves the break, plus he has a huge back catalogue to watch.

Who is the nicest person you’ve ever met? Hard to pick, I know loads of nice people.

How about the meanest? This girl I used to be friends with, she was a snake who hid her true nature. She acted nice to your face but then talked shit about you behind your back.

What was the last thing you spoke to your mom about? We're talking about this ice cream maker that was just in an ad lol, we're saying how annoying it would be to use cos you have to freeze everything for 24 hours before you can eat it, so if you feel like ice cream you better hope you feel like it tomorrow xD

When is the last time you felt appreciated for something you did? Hmm.

Are you the type of person who gets straight to the point? Yes, mostly.

Do you enjoy playing board games? Yeah, love them. I go to a board games night with my friend David, we play all sorts of stuff.

Are there any movies you are wanting to see? No.

Do you feel uncomfortable when people you hardly know confide in you? Depends. They do say that it's easier to talk to strangers about personal stuff cos they don't know you and can't judge you.

What’s something you’re proud of yourself for? Graduating uni and getting back usage of my shoulder, even if it won't ever be 100%.

Have you ever gone over 3 months without shaving/waxing your legs? Yes, usually in winter hahah cos I'm too lazy to do it cos I'm always wearing pants. But I have a much better razor now, so I'll probably keep up with it now.

Have you ever swam in a saltwater pool? No.

Do you think anyone has given up on you? I hope not.

Have you ever been pregnant? No. Thank fuck.

Have you taken anyone’s virginity? No.

Have you ever made your boy/girlfriend choose between you and someone else? No.

Do you remember when some of the Walmarts had a McDonald’s in them? -

What is one recipe that you would like to learn how to make? Anything, I suck at cooking.

Do you believe that Jesus will come back in your lifetime? No.

Were you afraid of heights as a child? No.

Have you ever had a lead role in a play? No haha.

Do you have a chandelier in your home? No.

Are you a Jeffree Star fan? Or no? I don't really care about him either way.

Do you own a guitar? Specify. Which brand of guitar do you own? No.

Are you a monogamous person? Or do you hate commitment? I am, yeah.

Who was the last person who was rude to you? Some person at work.

Have you ever met someone in person that you first met online? Oh yeah, loads of people, including a few close friends.

Who do you know who is dyslexic? Dunno.

Is weed legal in your state? I'm not American, but regardless it's not legal in NZ.

What is something that you used to be ashamed of, but now you’re not? Dunno.

Have you ever held a newborn baby? No.

Out of all your usernames for websites, which one is your favorite? Do you use it for more than one site? Whatever sites I use Mox Girl on, cos it's my main online name these days.

Have you ever spent the whole day (or multiple days) just looking up one thing on the internet (e.g., videos of your favorite band, how-to videos, quizzes, etc.)? Yep lol.

Have you ever been in a situation where you had to be around your ex everyday? No. The closest I got to that was the time my best friend and him both lived on the same street and I had to walk past his house to get to hers lol. I always hoped he wouldn't be coming outside or arriving home as I was going past there.

Which condiment (ketchup, mustard, etc.) do you use the most of? Definitely ketchup/tomato sauce. But I do use a lot of mayo too, and mustard as well lol. Hell, I'm a condiment girl, I love them all.

Would you ever flirt with somebody in front of your parents? Oh yeah, I flirt with my boyfriend in front of them. My Mum thinks it's funny lol.

Have your parents ever questioned your virginity? No.

How many of your friends play World of Warcraft? No clue, but probably not.

Is there a certain song you like to headbang to? No.

Is there a garage or carport attached to your house? No, we just have parking spaces in front of our house cos of the way our complex is designed. No garages, two parking spots each instead.

[boriqidi]

Your Joy of Producing

Bettyboydwriting.com

I can still bear in mind my teacher's express as she talked about, "Class, please acquire your writing notary journals. " I leaped with excitement when i reached into my own desk for this light blue newspaper. Since my family was aware that I loved to jot down, they always got me sparkly yellow and silver pencils. It really made authoring more fun! However , several of my friends groaned in agony whenever they realized that cost class was finished and it was time for them to write!. I always smiled at my friends in addition to I said, "Just think about something you adore or something that forces you to smile. Writing is if you think with your cardiovascular system. " I'd constantly remind others it's certainly caused by important to capture that reader's attention along with make them feel since they were in the report. Also, make this reader wonder, "Wow, what will happen so next? "

Bettyboydwriting.com

As soon as your teacher picked up the woman's new piece of white chalk, I recognized that she has been getting ready to write your topics for our posting class. I sitting up straight, only took out my rubber stamps pencil and open to a fresh, cutting edge page. I had been ready to take some other writing journey together with I felt which means free with a sparkly pencil. As i wondered where my own heart and pad would take myself during my writing school.

My eyes had been glued to the plank as my mentor wrote our producing choices. Oh, My partner and i loved it in the event the teacher gave you choices. After this teacher wrote possibilities A, B and additionally C, my little brown eyes always travelled into choice D. There was clearly something special for the words, "Choice Defense: Write about anything you will like". That's the subject matter I usually chose.

Although many students curled a corner of their diary or scribbled, We instantly started to be able to write. I thought to other people, "What can I train my teacher at present? " I know that will sounds odd, nevertheless I wanted my tutor to smile, gain knowledge of something new with me and please take a journey with me. In fact, I didn't wish my writing to help simply be key phrases on a page. That is going to make my teacher's day boring. Which i wanted my educator to feel that she was definitely in the story. That it was important for me to help you awaken my teachers' senses with carefully guided imagery, adjectives, views and sounds. Need be my teacher to seize a bag associated with popcorn, sit on that edge of your ex chair and speculate, "Wow, where is normally Joanna going to get me next? inch

It always eased my mind when teacher said, "Don't worry if you don't end today. You can do the application for homework. inches I smiled each occasion the teacher helped us to finish some of our stories for home work because it meant i got to sit inside my favorite writing position at home! The leads to would fly because of my pencil when i sat on the fire place in the living room or even as I sat over the stairwell in my passageway. If it was some sort of Spring evening, your third favorite location was on a front porch, possibly not far from the tulip glasses and flowers that in bloom. Grownups need their favorite composing spots as well! Found . detach from this busy lives in addition to leave room in this particular schedules to write. The most popular writing spot for being an adult is still nearby my fireplace or simply any fireplace. Nevertheless , I no longer compose on my stairwell or front outdoor patio. It's usually for a hiking trail, on top of a train ride, and near the ocean. At the same time, I've returned so that you can my alma mater, Sacred Heart University or college, to write. Sometimes it is actually in front of the library, within the same spot where by I had written to be a student. Other moments, it's inside the Holy Heart University Study, not far from this aroma of flavored coffee.

My heart usually led me to publish about real encounters. I had a hard time talking about things that did not really exist. There was always lots of activity and turmoil at my house. Consequently , it never needed me long to comprehend what to write about when i went to my favorite authoring spot. I always built time to sit with my favorite writing see each day. I could focus on choosing the right adjectives, metaphors, similes along with all of the other significant ingredients for my own story. I believe which writers always have their favorite spot with the intention that stories can amount from the brain and then to the heart and hands and wrists.

By the time I actually was in college, My partner and i written stories in a great many journals. My absolutely adore of writing after that led me to get the Editor for the student magazine in Sacred Heart Collage. I had the reverance of writing a tale and selecting one other student work that will be included in the literary paper.

I had always held a journal all through my adult existence. Sometimes I would get my journal together with write about something attractive that had captured my eye and additionally my heart. Various times, I found this enjoyable to write approximately family gatherings, gatherings, traditions and enchantment.

During a hike on the beautiful fall moment, I had decided to require my friends' suggestions and write some book. I decided not to want the e-book to be solely concerning my experiences, although I wanted to learn around others' experiences too. It is with the inspiration of my professors, professors, family and friends which was able to publish this first book, "Slices of Life Italian-American Stories. "

Composing and the literary earth will always be at the key of my life in addition to locked in my center. My advice to be able to anyone who loves to write is as responds: 1 . Take time to generate each night. 2 . Merge writing into a daily activities, such as holiday escapes, breakfast time and also during train visits, etc . Keep the idea at the core you have ever had.

Remain near to your family and friends who promote your passion to get writing. Their power will motivate you to ultimately write.

Individuals who read and enjoy your work will offer you ideas of praise or even will tell you just what they enjoyed on the subject of your creative operate. Your writing can be described as gift that you share with others. When they talk with your stories, you must keep on writing!

[realtalk-princeton]

Is there anyone I can have a talk with about whether or not I should transfer? I feel like my Academic Dean or PAA will just not be supportive and gaslight or mock me. I hate being forced to take uninteresting classes that I get low grades for. I hate the uninclusiveness, unfriendly atmosphere, and the hyper-competitive( in regard to things like Global Sems/Wintersession/etc.) environment. I just want to have some support, not think about self-harm every single day.

Response from Ocean:

First of all, I'm so sorry you're feeling this way! I definitely sympathize.

It doesn't sound from your ask that you've brought it up with your Dean yet. You stated that you "feel like" they would not be supportive, but I really don't think that is the case. While they may direct you to resources that would help you feel better with your situation at Princeton, they are also the ones best suited to help you with a transfer application if you follow through. My concerns and issues have always been taken seriously by my Academic Deans, and I have never heard of anyone being "mocked" or "gaslit" by an Academic Dean. If that does happen to you, then that is a serious issue and you would have to pursue other options. However, I highly doubt that will be the case, and those resources are there to support students like you.

So, my first step would be to open up that conversation with your dean. They're likely to focus on steps you can take to improve your experience at Princeton, or may also suggest a leave of absence, depending on how you are doing and what you speak about. While I do believe that you should be open to their suggestion, if you remain dead set on transferring, make sure they know.

You are correct that your PAA would probably not be very helpful in that case (although unless you have a very mean PAA, I don't think they would gaslight or mock you). Ultimately, the PAA is just another student and is highly unlikely to have the experience and knowledge you would need.

Next, if you're thinking about self-harm so frequently, I'd encourage you to meet with CPS and set up some regular appointments to help your mental state, whether it's with CPS, an outside therapist, a support group, etc. While a bad environment can exacerbate mental health issues, there's no guarantee that will be fixed by going somewhere else. And if you're dealing with those thoughts now, you should also have help and support now.

You haven't mentioned where you would like to transfer to. I think you should also start doing research on where you would like to go, how to apply to transfer, etc. I remember college admissions applications in high school were due around December/early Jan, and I would imagine transfer applications are similar. It seems like if this is serious for you, there is a lot more research and thinking that you would need to put into it. I will caution you that if you are looking to transfer into a college of similar status as Princeton, the odds are stacked firmly against you (not to mention the fact that most of the things you don't like about Princeton are also likely to be present at those universities).

Good luck, and I hope everything works out for you.

[iced-nct]

Cinnamon Hearts

Pairing: Camboy!Mark x Fem Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: SMUT, 18+ (Minors DNI), Oral (f rec.), Big dick Mark Lee (But we KNEW this), roommates to at least fuckbuddies idk man, Language, Use of the term 'good girl', Mark also refers to us as "filthy whores" (yessir.) y'all get the point it's dirty.

Synopsis: Mark makes a great roommate. He's clean, friendly, & quiet (not to mention hot as hell), but the source of your roommates income is a question you find yourself thinking of. But you didn't expect this...

Rent is expensive, and a reliable roommate is hard to come by. So, when you stumbled across Mark’s application you were hesitant. First and foremost, he is very much a dude, and you were not. Preference had been given to female roommates in the past. Though, looking back on it now they did always have a habit of disappointing you. Mark seemed to stick out from the rest of the applications you had, and upon meeting him in person you decided there would be no other option.

“Hey, you didn’t mention what it is you do aside from listing it as ‘self-employed’. What is it that you do, if you don’t mind my asking?” You smiled at Mark while toying with the extra apartment key.

“Oh yeah, I never really know how to explain it. Uh... I’m an influencer? Yeah, I’m an influencer” He grinned back at you, and you almost melted at how cute he was.

The answer seemed enough for you, so you tossed him the key and the rest is history. Mark made a fantastic roommate. He was extraordinarily clean, he helped out around the house, he was quiet, incredibly friendly and jaw-droppingly hot. There was never an awkward moment since he had moved in, living together felt as easy as breathing. The only odd thing was you never actually saw Mark doing any work, or heard anything for that matter. Unless he was the world’s quietest influencer, which seemed laughable. But he always made rent, and had extra to spoil the two of you with new furniture for the living room, and to treat you to take out a few times a week when you worked until the early hours of the morning. It did seem a little strange that Mark was still awake when you returned from your bartending shift at three in the morning, but he insisted he woke when he heard you come in.

-

It had been a shockingly slow Thursday night at the bar, and your boss asked if you wanted to call it a night. Despite the fact that it was just barely ten o’clock you were exhausted and very thankful for the ability to leave early so you could get some well-deserved rest. When you arrived home, you immediately flopped down on the plush sofa, relishing in the feeling of being off your feet. Too lazy to grab the remote, you opted to lay there in the dark on your phone. That was when you heard him. Soft whines trickled through Mark’s door, making you perk up and strain to listen. Was he hurt? Having a nightmare, maybe?

“You like watching me stroke myself, you filthy whores?” Mark groaned.

Holy shit did he have someone over? You tried to listen closer, but could only hear Mark’s breathy moans. Not that you really minded, he sounded very sexy, but you would rather not listen to your roommate railing someone while you were in the next room. Figuring you might be able to hear better from the kitchen, you tiptoed over, perching on the island. In doing so, you knocked over the glass candy bowl, spilling cinnamon hearts all over the floor.

“Shit” You cursed under your breath, kneeling down to start scooping them up.

Mark’s room had gone deadly silent, and you heard his laptop flip closed right before his door opened. The kitchen lights flickered on and you knelt there in front of your half naked roommate, with your hands full of cinnamon hearts.

“(y/n)? I thought you were at work? Why are you home?” Mark’s cheeks were flushed, and his eyes wide with panic.

“Oh. Um it was slow, so I came home early. Don't worry though! I didn’t hear anything!” You chuckled sheepishly, knowing you didn’t sound convincing in the slightest.

Mark’s eyes narrowed as he looked down at you, and your mouth dried up as you took in the sight of him before you. The only barrier he had was his black boxers, which clung to him so tightly you were unsure if that even counted as you could see him so clearly through them. He smirked when he noticed you staring.

“I’m so sorry. You have something you’re finishing up! I can totally go stay somewhere else tonight” You babbled on, Mark just shook his head and leaned up against the counter, his eyes never leaving you.

“You know, you look pretty like this.” His tongue poked the inside of his cheek.

You cocked your head at him as you put the last of the candies in the bowl, grabbing one from the counter and popping it in your mouth. “Like what?” You questioned

“On your knees” He winked, before helping you to your feet.

At this point you were certain that you were a bright shade of red. You had thought he was hot from the minute you saw his photo, but of course the only time he looks at you like that is when he’s got someone over.

“Come on, (y/n). I have something to show you.” Mark led you to his room, where to your surprise there was no one.

Mark had an intricate camera set up in his room, along with dual monitors and webcams. You looked at his desk area suspiciously, then diverted your gaze back to him.

“Influencer?” You raised your eyebrow in question.

“Yeah. I ‘influence’ people to feel good” He beamed proudly, like it was the worlds’ greatest accomplishment.

“So, you’re a camboy.” You deadpanned, causing Mark to recoil at the term you used.

“I prefer the term influencer still, but you can call it whatever you want. I didn’t tell you when I moved in because some people get really weird about it” He explained, and as you thought about it more you agreed. If you had known you also would have thought differently.

You finished sucking on the cinnamon candy in your mouth and raked your eyes over Mark’s body again. “Well, if you ever need to spice up your stream... you know where to find me” You winked with a sudden boost of confidence.

Mark ran his tongue over his lips and sat on the edge of his bed with a sickly grin hanging on his lips. “I think you need to show me what you can do first” He challenged.

Never one to back down to a challenge, you smirked at him. Maintaining eye contact while you began to strip off your work clothes. You tossed your shirt at him playfully, smiling while you ran your hands over your red lace bra. Mark’s eyes followed the movement of your hands as they drifted lower, unbuttoning your jeans and sliding them off. He drank in how you looked in front of him, and you thanked your lucky stars that you had the decency to wear a matching set today. You sauntered towards him, swaying your hips a little extra, and you hooked your legs over Mark’s to settle yourself in his lap. You purposefully ground yourself down against his bulge, earning you a hiss as Mark inhaled sharply.

“Well?” You blinked innocently at him “Am I hired?”

Mark grabbed your chin in his hand and pulled you down to meet his lips in an aggressive kiss. Your body molding into his as his hands swept over your exposed skin. You both pulled away, breathless and stunned at the others passion.

“I’d say you’re more than hired” Mark pulled your hips down to brush your core against him.

The wetness pooling between your thighs and skin red hot from where Mark had touched you ignited a fire within you. “I want you”

Mark captured you lips once more, seeming to know exactly what you meant. He laid you on the bed and nestled himself between your thighs. You worked quickly to rid yourself of your panties, desperate to feel Mark’s tongue against you. But he felt better than you could have ever imagined, the way he licked and stroked made you feel euphoric. You fisted your hands into his hair and pushed your hips up more, desiring more friction than he was giving you. Mark hummed against your clit, sending deep vibrations through you, and your eyes rolled back. You relished in the feeling of ecstasy he was giving you. It didn’t take long for you to come undone with the expertise he had. Mark looked up at you from between your legs and licked your juices off his lips.

“Think you can handle it?” He asked, while freeing himself from the confines of his boxers.

You took in the sheer size of him and bit your lip nervously. He was huge, like you probably wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow but it would be so worth it. You nodded slowly and Mark grabbed a condom from his desk and rolled it on. He hooked your leg over his shoulder as he began pressing himself into you. Your hands gripped the sheets and you bit your tongue to stop yourself from screaming. As Mark bottomed out you released the moan you had been holding back.

“Good girl” He praised, before pulling back out to thrust into you again.

Mark’s hands alternated between grabbing your hips when he wanted to rail you, or twisting your nipples between his fingers. Either way, he fucked you until you couldn’t even remember why you came home early. And that was just the way he liked it, seeing you a fucked-out mess beneath him. Knowing that there was no one else who could make you feel this good gave Mark all the strength he needed to pound into you. He groaned about how tight you felt as you came undone around him, your pussy pulsing as you came. Mark’s fingernails dug deeper into your hips as he chased his high, his thrusts became sloppy and his breathing heavier. As he came, he leaned forward into your shoulder, groaning praises into your ear. Your nails clawed his back, as you took in how big he was now that he wasn’t moving in you.

He got up and tossed the condom in the trash before coming back to you in bed. Mark couldn’t hide his smile as he watched you tuck yourself under his blankets. He crawled over you and pulled your body against his, placing a soft kiss to your shoulder.

“So, we’re having a sleepover tonight?” He whispered softly.

You made a move to get up, but Mark held you firmly to him. “I can go if you want?” you yawned.

“No. Stay. I want to know what it’s like to wake up with you” He brushed your hair back behind your ear “And you spilled my cinnamon hearts all over the floor. This is how you’re paying me back”

[belladoesmakeup]

Hey guys,

I think I have found a new holy grail mascara!! We all know I am so damn fussy when it comes to mascara's because in the past some mascara's have just smudged after a hour or wear or they don't add anything to my lashes. Luckily for me Revolution decided to make a new mascara that could honestly wipe with floor with other mascara's.

Today people we are chatting about the Makeup Revolution 5D Lash Pow Mascara , £8.99. This mascara is a really unique formula but before we chat about that let's chat packaging. The packaging has a really unique way to open the mascara instead of twisting cap to get the brush out you simply push the brush down and the blush pops up. It sounds odd but this blew my mind because it's the first time I've ever had a mascara that doesn't open the traditional way. Honestly I'm obsessed with this function as tragic as it sounds.

Now let's chat about the actual mascara shall we?! This mascara is designed to gift your lashes the ultimate volume and full lash look. Everytime I use this mascara my eyes look massive because the applicator grabs every lash and by adding volume to even the smallest lash it makes your eyes look way wider which you can see above. This mascara genuinely lasts all day, doesn't move or smudge and still looks as good 12 hrs as it did first application. I'm in love with this formula and I think I prefer it over my holy grail drugstore mascara Maybelline Sky High which I never thought I'd say.

If you want to check out this mascara yourself click the link above.

Lots of love

Bella x x

[wastelandcth]

Better Love - cth

part two: the wild and us

summary: Maeve and Calum meet. The rain outside puts on a show. 

author’s notes: I hope you guys enjoyed the first part of this series! This part had one of my favorite scenes I’ve ever written so I hope you enjoy! 

warnings: mentions of drinking, mentions of breakups, mentions of food. 

masterlist || request || join my taglist! 

part one

Staring in the blackness at some distant star The thrill of knowing how alone we are, unknown we are To the wild and to the both of us

"What are you doing in my hotel?" she asked shakily, her wariness prevalent in the way her voice shook as she stared at the man in front of her. 

The towel she was pulling closer to her body felt like nothing in the room with him. Maeve, who had only made it  back to the cabin an hour prior, had expected to be alone. She'd hadn't expected to walk out of her shower to find a tall man sleeping in the bed she'd rented out for the week. She also hadn't expected the rainstorm to be so bad, her weather app claiming her entire week here would be sunny and perfect for hiking, so finding a man in her cabin hadn't been in her plans either. 

And wow was he a sight for sore eyes. 

"What are you doing in my cottage?" he asked, Maeve's eyebrow raising as she heard the trace of an accent, "Mrs. Bagby rented this place out to me, she never said there was someone already staying here," he huffed, his eyebrows furrowing as he studied Maeve's. 

"Mrs. Bagby? Who the hell is Mrs. Bagby? I'm renting this from Mrs. Baird," Maeve said, "I was here first! You're the intruder!"

Maeve, who had always been prepared to debate with anyone, was not backing down no matter how exposed she was in front of a handsome man. She wasn't going to stand for a stranger barging into her space, she needed this vacation more than anything in this world and she'd be damned if she let this ruin it. She watched as the man in front of her opened and closed his mouth, looking like a fish out of the water as he tried to come up with a solution to the very obvious problem. If Maeve was honest, she had no idea how the confusion had happened or how they'd both ended up in this situation, but she didn't have much time to think about it. 

The thunder outside shook the walls of the small cabin, rattling the jars and the decorations on the walls throughout, and it wasn't until Maeve heard the crack of lightning that she realized just how bad the storm outside had become. The view outside the window had been fogged, the colorful autumn trees disappearing behind the wall of water falling from the sky as the landscape blurred into a mixture of grey and orange with red splotches. Maeve, whose attention had switched from the man in the green hoodie to the raging storm outside, had grabbed the pile of clothes she'd left on the dresser. Without another word, she walked back towards the bathroom and made sure to twist the lock before she let out a breath. 

The man in her bedroom for the week had been, breathtaking to say the least. His eyes, although wide and filled with confusion when Maeve had looked into them, were brown and shone even in the gloominess of the weather His hair was short, the tufts of blonde hair curling near the ends. Maeve guessed that his hair had been a darker color naturally, the roots she'd spotted proving her point. He looked like a kind person, maybe he was like Maeve as well, just another person looking for an escape. 

That's all her trip to this cabin was meant to be, an escape. 

Maeve's life had always been simple if you could call it that. She'd been born on a rainy afternoon, her mother liked to tell her it was because she was meant to outshine the sun itself. Her parents, who'd met in Scotland years before she ever came to take her first breath, had always told her about the magic the country had to offer. They told her stories of the forests so vast and large that even the biggest of problems could shrink down into pebbles that flowed away in the rivers. She'd grown up in a small town, dreaming of the wonders that Scotland had for her when she was old enough to see them. 

Maeve had moved when her time at university peaked when her nose was stuck in books that spoke all about the history and the cultures that made up the world. It had been the first time in her life that she'd been away from her parents, from the only home she had ever known, and it had been so thrilling. She went from only traveling to big cities for concerts or when her father had needed to run errands to living right in the heart of all the commotion. The quiet nights that had been filled with only cicadas singing into the night were replaced by the sound of a city, alive and cheerful at all hours of the day. Maeve had never experienced so much at such a fast pace and her life at her university flew by before she had a chance to slow down. One day she was unpacking her bags in her dorm and the next she was accepting her diploma and applying to jobs around the country. She felt the burnout, felt the way her brain tensed whenever she read through application requirements and the thought of having to pack up her life again. She felt the way her eyes forced themself open while riding the train to interviews. She knew that she needed a break, a few days off to remember who she was and what she wanted in life. To make matters worse, her relationship had been going downhill. She'd met James at a social event the school had put on, both of them were in the same program so it wasn't hard to make conversation with him. After too many history jokes and a trip to the campus bar, Maeve found herself awake in his arms as he slept. She'd laid there that first night, looking out at the stars through his window, wondering why she'd felt a pull towards a different place, a different person.

That feeling hadn't stopped since that night, she'd stayed with James, he was a nice guy who made her laugh and kept her company as they both studied. But he wasn't someone she saw herself spending the rest of her life with. She had a feeling that James felt the same way even if they were both too afraid to admit that the spark that had been there before was fiddling out. The arguments were getting worse, the silence lasting longer as time went on. It wasn't until one night when Maeve had been studying for a final exam that it had all exploded. Words were thrown around, tears were shed, and she was left feeling like something was wrong with her. She couldn't understand why she couldn't love James as he loved her, she'd turn distant and pushed him away until all that was left between them was a broken flower vase and tears.

That's why she'd jumped on the opportunity to fly to Scotland when it arose. She'd been sitting at her desk, scrolling through an endless list of applications and teaching opportunities when the email had popped up. She'd read through it a couple of times, making sure she wasn't imagining the words on the screen. Her professor, who'd helped her in more ways than one could count, had recommended her for a teaching job abroad. She would have to visit the school, make sure that it was both a right fit for her and for the administration, but it seemed like they were more than ready to offer her a spot and helping her make Edinburgh her home. 

Mrs. Baird, the lovely older woman who had driven Maeve up to the cabin and helped her unpack, had told her that she was glad she'd arrived a few days earlier after Maeve had told her all about why she was visiting Scotland at such an odd time of year. She'd been a curious soul ever since Maeve had stepped out of the taxi that had taken her from the train station out to the main residence Mrs. Baird had seemed to be the owner of. She'd asked Maeve all sorts of questions, which Maeve had taken as to her host just making sure she wasn't escaping from anyone dangerous or anything like that, it was a tough time to be a woman traveling alone.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll love the spot you'll be staying in then. It's very private, it'll be good for you to clear your head and relax before your big interview," she'd nodded as she packed up a few bags with groceries Maeve hadn't recalled reading about on the website. 

"Oh, um, I don't think I paid for anything like that, Mrs. Baird," Maeve chuckled and shook her head, "I was thinking of just popping into town and picking up a few essentials."

"Oh don't you worry, darling! It's my pleasure. Plus, the cottage is quite secluded so it'd take you almost half a day to get to the shops and back," she shrugged, "Let's get going, yeah?"

The drive up to the cabin had been slow and gave Maeve a chance to take in the sights. The forest was alive with colors that Maeve's eyes had craved to see. It seemed like everything her parents had told her about the place they'd met was still the same. The trees still sway in the chilly breeze and somewhere in the distance, a river flowed with a power that only came with years of flowing and receiving rain. The drive itself had been plenty enough to get Maeve excited about her days of rest but the second her eyes saw the stone bridge that led to her home for the next couple of days, she knew her life was about to change. After helping Mrs. Baird with bringing in all the bags and thanking her for the candles she'd also brought, telling her a rainstorm was predicted to pass through the next day, Maeve was alone. 

Her first day in the cabin had been spent unpacking and unwinding. Mrs. Baird had been kind enough to bring a bottle of Scottish whiskey, telling her," when in Scotland" and Maeve had sampled the liquor, letting it burn her throat as she stared out at the river flowing outside her bedroom window. Her trip had been going great so far, she'd successfully beaten jetlag, had managed not to burn the small kitchen down during her dinner, and she had taken a nice and relaxing show when the rainstorm had shown up the next day. She'd made sure to light a few candles around the place, not wanting to walk around in the dark if the power did go out. Then, of course, everything took a turn for the unexpected when Maeve walked out of the bathroom and was met by a man sleeping in her bed. 

By the time she'd walked out of the bathroom again, fully dressed and a little more confident in herself, the power had gone out and the whole cabin had been illuminated with an orange glow coming from the candles. The man was no longer in the bedroom, but the storm outside the window was winding up more and more as the seconds passed. She knew she couldn't make him walk out in the forest during the storm, it was too dangerous and mean in general to kick someone out in the middle of a downpour. So she'd let the guy stay until the storm passed and then they'd both walk down to the main residence and sort out whatever the hell was happening. 

"Calum," he mumbled, looking over as Maeve stepped out into the living room, "I'm Calum."

"Maeve," she replied with a nod, "You're not here to murder me, right?"

Calum chuckled and shook his head, which made Maeve warm and sent a shiver down her spine. His smile was nice, a murderer wouldn't have waited for her to get dress unless he was into that, she thought. She'd smiled at him, tugging the sleeves of her sweater down a bit as she looked around the living room. The candles gave the entire room a moody glow, the storm had stopped the sunshine from coming in through the windows and it had felt later on in the day than it actually was. 

"So...tea?" she asked softly as she motioned towards the kitchen. 

Maeve had found out that Calum, which was a very fitting name for the man sitting across from her watching the rain outside, had been in Scotland for a little over two weeks. He'd been traveling on his own, exploring the smaller cities and seeing what the Highlands had to offer. Maeve had told him about her interview, confessing that she wasn't the most prepared and that these few days before were to help her hopefully calm down. To her surprised, she’d learned that Calum was a professor at a university near his town, both of their widening at the confession of just how similar they were.

"That's exciting, what are you hoping to teach?” Calum asked, his eyes meeting hers in the candlelight, “I specialize in Art History.”

“History,” she nodded, a blush on her cheeks, her eyes glancing down to the cup of tea that had been warming her hands, “I’ve always loved studying it and I want to help others learn about it too.”

“Yeah? I get that. The history department at my school isn’t the best Some older man names Rainer runs it like it’s still warm times,” Calum chuckled, “He’s the worst.”

Maeve laughed, shaking her head as she thought about her fair share of professors who had yet to catch up with the times She thought about what kind of instructor Calum was. It was only his second year teaching so was he the one who made his students excited for lessons ahead? Did he use fun activities and assignments to incorporate them into his plans? Maybe he assigned cool projects, where the main point was to gain a bigger understanding of something a student has been wanting to talk about. Calum seemed like the type and from what Maeve had learned about the man in the short hours she’d known him, she knew he was kind and attentive.

“How was your hike up here?” Calum asked as he set the cup of tea down on the table, his legs stretching out as his head leaned on the back of the couch. 

“Hike?” Maeve asked, furrowing her eyebrows as she looked over at him.

“Yeah, I left around like five and didn’t get here until ten,” Calum chuckled and shrugged, “And somehow you look like you just took a leisurely drive up here,” he teased, sitting up as he saw the look on Maeve’s face, “Oh my god, you drove up here, didn’t you?”

"In my defense," Maeve giggled out, holding her arms up, "Mrs. Baird offered to bring me up here"

"Oh, and she forced me to walk for five hours and fall in the mud!?" Calum whined, shaking his head as he let out a groan, "She's so not getting a good review from me, whatever her name may be."

Maeve laughed softly, watching the way Calum ran a hand down his face and pouted over at her. She was surprised at how easily they both got along, usually, Maeve had trouble getting out of her own head and talking to new people. But with Calum things just felt so carefree. She wasn't sure if it was such a good thing, opening up to a complete stranger who had been booked into the same cabin as her, but the rain outside wasn't letting up and she was more than willing to work out a compromise to share with him until the rain stopped and they could take the quad bike Mrs. Baird had told Maeve about before leaving her in the middle of nowhere. 

"Do you want to go freshen up? I'm sure your five-hour hike up here more than justifies a nice warm bath," Maeve nodded, giggling as Calum glared playfully over at her, "I'll try and mix something up for lunch?"

"That sounds lovely, if the rain doesn't stop soon I'll make us dinner," Calum shrugged, standing up from the couch and walking over to the entrance of the cabin, gathering his bag and a pile of clothes that Maeve hadn't even noticed were on the floor before making his way over to the bathroom. 

The rain had not stopped by the time Calum had gotten out of the bath, much to Maeve’s pleasure since she’d heard his soft voice singing along to whatever song he’d been playing. The rain hadn't stopped while the two ate their lunch, a stew that Maeve had managed to throw together in the tiny kitchen. And the rain had, surprisingly, not stopped while Calum had been bustling around the kitchen a few hours later, making dinner while Maeve read through one of the many books she’d packed with her for her trip If she hadn’t known anything about Scotland before traveling there, she would’ve assumed the Earth was flooding and that her adventure abroad would end before it even started.

It wasn’t until a crack of thunder rocked the walls of the cabin that Maeve realized just how extreme the weather has turned. The window was howling against the windows, shaking the panes with the intensity of it. The power had yet to come back and as the day had gone by, the cabin had only grown gloomier and gloomier. Their only source of light had been the many candles that their host has left them, something Maeve would be eternally grateful for. They crackled and glowed in the darkness of whatever room Maeve would get up to look out the window through. Her shadows mixed with the firelight and danced across the dark walls of the safety she’d come to know in her short stay. The river outside of the house, which was louder now that it was filled with rainwater, had grown taller as Maeve would barely see the giant rocks inside of the river which had caused the small rapids earlier in the day.

It was all terrifyingly beautiful.

Nature had put on a show for her and Calum, letting them in on the secret dance the forest and elements did for one another. The trees danced with the wind, swaying wildly from side to side and switching directions when they pleased. The river water jumped over the stone bridge above it, splashing cold water onto the top and lowering as it sprinkled back down onto itself. The woodland animals, who would be hiding in the safety of their own homes, hidden somewhere Maeve couldn’t quite see but hoped they’d be just as amazed watching the show that the world put on for them. It was all so terrifying and violent, the rain submitting to no one but itself as he disappeared into the river only to come down harder from the clouds in the night sky. It wasn’t until the thunder, which had been singing a song for the forest itself, cracked again that the stone bridge took its final bow.

Maeve watched as the bridge crumbles. It started slowly, one of two big pieces crumbling into the river below as if by accident. But the water was cruel and greedy, splashing upwards and sending more and more stone into its hands. Maeve, who could do nothing more than watch as their only way back out to civilization crumbled and washed away into the river below, gasped and leaned against the window. The glass shook underneath her hands, the wind greeting her palms from the outside and howling in excitement as the once-solid bridge was split into two pieces, never to meet again, as the final act of nature’s show came to an end.

“Did you hear that?” Calum asked as he walked into the bedroom, where Maeve had been watching the show, “Maeve?”

She turned to face the stranger, her wide eyes softening as she was met with the definition of a word she couldn’t place in her brain. Calum had changed into a pair of joggers, the grey material hanging loosely off his hips and only held up by a haphazardly tied knot. His upper half was dressed in a warm green sweater, the color reminding her of the fields of green she’d seen on the train ride to the small town, his board shoulder stretching the fabric a little bit in the candlelight, he looked breathtaking. Maeve knew he was good-looking, it was one of the first things she’d noticed when he’d jumped up from the bed with tired eyes that had been filled with fear. He was beautiful and kind and…stuck with Maeve.

“T-the bridge,” she stuttered out, her cheeks flushing as she realized Calum was still standing in front of her waiting for an answer, “The bridge fell.”

taglist: @hoodhoran​​​ @finelliine​ @moonlightcriess​​​ @dinosaursandsocks @mxgyver​​ @calpops​​ @karajaynetoday​​ @notlukehemmo​​ @calumrose​​ @devilatmydoor​ @lyss-xo @lowkeyflop​​  @matchacal​​ @hemmo1996-5sosvevo​​ @myloverboyash​ @2fangirl4u​​ @multistann​

[the-new-adult]

Adulting 101: College

chapter 1: how to actually get there

Every college-bound high schooler's nightmare is the search-and-apply process. You probably already know the drill: guidance counselor lectures, SAT tests, campus tours, mountains of application essays, and months of waiting for a response. There are millions of tips and tricks out there, but here are a few you might not have seen:

Go undeclared. Our parents and counselors think they know what's best for us, and a lot of the time that means pushing us to declare majors on our applications. (Remember those elementary school "My Future Career" projects?) But fun fact: most colleges don't actually care what you say you want to do. A lot of students change majors at least once, and more than you think don't even declare a major until the end of sophomore year. Going undeclared is less of an "I have no aim in life" and more of an "I'm exploring my options". Colleges tend to like open-mindedness. At the same time, if you have a major in mind, go for it. Don't cheat yourself out of the chance to say "I'm a linguistics major" the moment you step onto campus.

Know your SAT ability. In my high school, the "proper" way to take the SAT was to prepare--to take the $250 course and buy another $50 worth of books. My closest friend probably spent upwards of 100 hours studying for the same relative score she got on the PSAT without studying. I'm not saying studying isn't worth it--it definitely is. But what's more important is having an idea of how confident you are in what's more or less basic math and reading and knowing whether it's worth it to spend those 300 bucks for a 10-point boost. Unless you're looking at an Ivy League, your SAT score isn't the be-all, end-all of your application (and an 1110 isn't really all that different from 1150).

Don't do it all. Colleges want to see involvement and leadership skills. They don't want a six-page resumé detailing every time you shoveled snow for your elderly neighbor, or a list of every club your school offers. Pick a few things you enjoy and stick with them. It's better to spend six years in two branches of the arts department than to play eight different sports for a single season each. Likewise, try to avoid "odd job" volunteerism. Spending time with one program not only shows dedication, but also benefits everyone involved.

Don't think you have to see it to believe it. Is it a good idea to tour a prospective campus before you commit? Definitely. Do you have to? Definitely not. Visiting a college can be a good way to see if you can envision yourself living and learning on campus, but if you can't make it, don't worry. By the end of senior year, I'd toured three colleges...and then committed to one I'd never seen. And I'm loving it. That's not to say you can't get to campus and find yourself regretting your decision, but most of the time if you aren't looking close to home, it probably isn't worth shelling out the money to visit a school you likely won't attend.

Be creative. I'm sure you've heard that the best way to gain the admissions board's attention is with an essay that stands out, but how many times have you been told to take the option that doesn't seem like an option? Most of the time, you'll have a set of possible prompts that ends with the chance to "share an essay of your choice". Sounds like a trap, right? It's not. Take Option #1, and you can only be as creative as any other person writing about a formative experience. Your choice is exactly that, and what you choose can say just as much about you as what you write.

Submit strategically. Contrary to popular belief, it's not always best to be early. Some colleges don't even begin reading applications until after the deadline, so submitting that app in August just means it'll be sitting in an inbox for the next few months--and you'll be waiting longer for a decision. That said, don't submit at the last second, either, or you run the risk of being late. The exception? If the school you're applying to has rolling decision, submitting early can actually be beneficial: the longer you wait, the closer admissions will get to the quota, and the more selective they'll be. (Here's an interesting view: My friend applied two months before the deadline under early action and waited four months for a decision. I applied three months after him to the same school under rolling decision and had a response in nine days.)

Above all else, just be yourself. No one can chart your path to college but you. I've been there, but my trail looks nothing like the one you're about to blaze, and I'm not enough of a fool to think that my process was the best (or even necessarily good).

Good luck!

[local80smotel]

All knowing love

pairing; V x Trans Man! Reader

summary; being under V's loving and watchful eye.

requested; Anonymous

rating; T

warnings; transphobia, parental abuse (physical), hints of suicide (but never outright said)

word count; 2185

A/N; this isn't wasn't the fluffiest thing I could write but once talking to my trans boyfriend I couldn't help but feel having a bit of angst was acceptable.

When Y/N was still just a child, he knew something was off about him. Not something "bad" or "wrong" that people would call this feeling when he'd tell them. "It's just a phase" was a comment that was thrown at them mostly by their parents when they were still in their teens, just before high Chancellor Sutler was ever in the eye of politics. Oh, how those days would seem like a humid southern summer walk compared to when Sutler came into the picture. The transphobia he had experienced grew like how weeds grow in futile soil.

The comments like "You're confused" slowly started to warp into something more demeaning to the boy as the Chancellor candidate's toxic grip on the people of England started to squeeze any "unwanted" life out of it. "Undesirable" life as he would call it. When hair was cut after Sutler was elected, there weren't small arguments anymore that would be fixed when he'd be asked if he were hungry and wanted to eat supper with them. It became violent and unlike the people who had raised him for the last 15 years. Having handfuls of freshly cut hair be ripped out because his mother was holding him by his scalp just to yell in his face how much of a monster he was broke his heart.

Was it fear that caused this? Were they scared of losing their only child as many other families had? Was their bundle of joy in their life really an undesirable and the cause of this virus outbreak? Just why? He'd ask himself that as he was packing his bags in preparation to leave the family home for good.

Three long years had passed and at the ripe age of 18, he moved out into the busy streets of London. A small pit in his stomach began to form as the sickening feeling came back. The cause of it was from one simple but yet complex question; could he survive in this fascist regime? Sadness also fueled this emotional fire, sadness from knowing he'd have to use so many things he knew was wrong and didn't describe him truthfully just so he could get a place to come to when curfew hit; The name that was long dead to him the second it was given to him and female pronouns. He'd be signing his own death certificate if he put Y/N instead of his deadname on his application to rent.

They'd look it up and find no Y/N L/N in England and call the police on him in a split second. Shivers ran down his spine as he imagined what would happen to him if that became a reality. No one knew what happened when you were deemed "undesired" but everyone after having Sulter for three years knew that they would go missing and would be never seen of or heard from again. You were just wiped off the face of the Earth.

Y/N lucky had enough money saved from working in retail for the past 2 years to get a small apartment. When he was finally given the keys to the place he couldn't help but sigh in relief. At least in this tiny space, he could be his true self without shaking in fear as he had in his past while being stuck in his parents' home. The next three years were some of the worse when it came to dysphoria. Being forced to go to work almost every day and be called ma'am or miss and be deadnamed constantly damaged his mental health to the point it felt easier just to be open with his identity.

Anything would be better than being forced to hide in this shell of terror. Nights of panic attacks and sobbing that sounded like a wounded animal as he laid on the rotten wooden floor became a routine. On the morning of his 21st birthday, he woke up in the late afternoon. There was no panic in him when he realized he was late for work, how could someone care when this would be their last day on Earth?

With scissors in his hand, he grabbed his hair and began to chop it off sloppily but that didn't matter to him as long as it was finally short like it was when he was a child, and that was enough for him. The thought that when the police would see him, that'd see a man instead of what society had deemed him brought a smile to the young adult. The feeling of freedom pumped through his veins as he went on with his day. It felt odd but refreshing to feel the cold air from his AC on his neck as he fixed himself some bacon and eggs. It wasn't the fanciest thing someone could eat on this day, but it was enough for him.

Around ten AM he left his flat, walking with newfound confidence due to his hair and now his wrapped chest. He had heard from the grapevine that wrapping one's chest in medical bandages could cause serious damage like nerve loss but one this final day he decided to risk it so he could pass in normal daily life. Being called sir by ticket seller at the movies brought him so much joy as he grabbed his "Count of Monte Cristo" tickets and wished them a good day as he went deeper into the movie theater to find theater four to watch the movie. Y/N was somewhat surprised to see only one other person in the audience. Sure, he was 10 minutes late but this was a classic film that was finally being let out of the vault to be watched again! Nevertheless, the man sat down a few rows in front of the figure, settling down into the uncomfortable chair.

“I didn't expect you to come.”

He could tell from how the figure's words were muffled that they were wearing a mask. Y/N turned to them with a confused look on their face.

“Excused me?” Y/N asked but their confusion just deepened as he saw that the figure was wearing.

A Guy Fawkes mask with a matching hat while wearing pitch-black clothing. The man under the mask chuckled as they stood up, Y/N couldn't help but be slightly intimidated by the height of this masked figure.

“I should have done this first so you wouldn't be so perplexed, ” he cleared his throat as began monologing, using many words that start with the letter V in his speech which in turn slightly impressed the 21-year-old.

“But you can simply call me V.”

"V" said while taking a bow

Y/N couldn't help but snicker at this display of some kind of knightship which in turn had V cocked his head in slight confusion on what could be so funny

“Well, Mr. V, might I ask why you're here alone?”

“I could ask you the same thing, but as I am apparently on a tight schedule I won't elaborate”

“Tight sch-” the man interrupted them by placing his leather glove covered finger on top of their lips

“Yes, very much tight schedule as I only have 2 hours till your self made demise am I correct?”

He was blown away at the fact this random stranger knew of his most shameful plan, but the feeling of shock was soon replaced with anger. This creep was stalking me! He thought as he slapped away the masked man, getting up from his chair as he did so.

“You have some right talking to me like that!” he yelled as he started to march away from them.

V reached out and grabbed their hair in a somewhat gentle way

“Y/N wait please, ” he sighed as Y/N stopped who's face was twisted in bitterness “I understand how you feel Y/N, I truly do. I was labeled an undesirable so please don't think that I've been keeping an eye on you in for any other reason than just to keep you safe.”

When he said this Y/N rage seemed to melt away slowly. How was he able to survive being an undesirable? So many questions filled the male's head but the only word he could speak was

“How?”

V let go of his hair as he straightened his posture “If you come with me I'll tell you.”

The more sensible side of the man told him to run away from this masked freak and enjoy what little time you had left in peace but something stopped him. After a moment of silence, he nodded to V's pleasure. He took the 21-year old by the hand and lead them to the back exit. The two walked down the alley and what drew Y/N's eye other than the 6'3 black mass was the posters. Every single one they pasted seemed to have a V cut into them.

He broke the long silence with another question “Did you mark those posters?”

“Does a raven speak?”

“But why?”

V didn't stop walking but he could feel his eyes on him. For being an undesirable he sure seems fine being out after curfew Y/N thought as they waited for the answer.

“The people deserve a symbol. Something to get them through this.”

He opened his mouth to ask what he meant by that but quickly shut it once the meanings of the words came to mind. Maybe he wasn't this creep, more like this country's guardian angel that would save them all from high Chancellor Sutler. It didn't take long for him to reach what Y/N guessed as V's home which turned out to be an abandoned Victoria station. Y/N looked over at him with an eyebrow raised as V opened the hatch that kept the station locked to the public who had originally thought it was abandoned. V turned back to the man and gave him his hand simply saying "follow me, sir Y/N".

Once V was given the curious man's hand he rubbed his thumb over their knuckles before tenderly pulling them inside. He held the hand as they walked in the pitch black, guiding them until they found a giant door which to Y/N's touch felt like it had complex carvings in them. When the masked man opened the door Y/N couldn't help but wince as golden light hit his E/C eyes that had just gotten used to the dark. He had expected V to let go of his hand once they reached his "lair" but he didn't. Oh, what a perplexing and mysterious man he was.

Y/N would be lying if he said his face wasn't blushing at this moment in time. V led them deeper into his beautiful home until both of them to were behind his couch which was black leather. In front of the said couch was a glass coffee table with a box on it. Y/N's hand was finally let go of as V sat on the couch.

“Come sit, I have something to give you.”

“But you said-”

“Please?”

He sighed as he complied, arms folded as he sat next to him. V opened the box and to Y/N's surprise, there was a biner in it. Once again, all he could ask was "How?" as all production and selling of items that could help trans folk was banned just as the Koran was. The masked man took the folded bundle into his giant hands and gave it to them once again shocked male.

“Life has been tough enough on you even if we don't add our government into it. Thank you for holding on. For surviving this long and not letting them take away your love for life and your fighting spirit.”

Without any hesitation, Y/N pulled V into a tight embrace with tears threatening to fall. No one had ever put their life in danger to give them this piece of happiness like this stranger had. All he could do was whimper out a "thank you" as a sob shook his chest deeply.

“Since I showed you my lair, you're going to have to stay till the next November the fifth, is that okay?”

Y/N couldn't help but nod immediately. He could finally be somewhere he was truly accepted for who he really was; a man who was just simply given the wrong body at birth.

V placed his hands on top of the weeping H/C man, stroking the uneven hair and placed his head onto the others.

“I'm cooking ham, is that okay?”

“mmhmm..”

“Thank you, Y/N.”

[cluster-a-pds]

I believe my 26 year old nephew has Schitzotypal Personality Disorder. He also has OCD. At this point I don't believe he is aware (although he wouldn't share it if he was). He hasn't worked in a couple of years and has only held a job for two months at the most. My family is very concerned for him and would like to approach him about this subject but we are also afraid of alienating him forever. At this point, I do not know what to do and would love to hear from people who have STPD.

Hi, thank you for the ask! Sorry it took a while to answer, hopefully you still see this response. 

Hmm, coming to people out of concern for them can always be tricky, since how they react will really depend on the personality of the individual. Even two people who have StPD may both respond very differently in that situation due to their own individual personal traits, so it’d be a bit hard for me to give any advice that’d be broadly applicable. I’ll try to just give a few notes that could be helpful..

I guess what could be important, is that we often can struggle with symptoms of paranoia, so we may be suspicious and less trusting of others. You would need to make sure to be very gentle, non-accusatory, non-confrontational, and non-assumptive (like, not assuming how he must feel, telling him he has a bunch of problems, doubting or minimizing his experiences if he did open up about anything, etc.). Especially if he has any odd beliefs/magical thinking, strange behavior/appearance, etc. don’t challenge those things or draw attention to them (like obviously don’t just go ‘You dress weird and look weird and have wrong ideas, this is all bad and you clearly have problems’ etc., that would just make someone feel very alienated and defensive, especially if they’re already suspicious of others).  I would suggest simply finding a way to open a dialogue about if there are things going on with him that are distressing him, if he feels okay, if he feels like he could use any extra help, etc. Frame it less like “here’s what I think is wrong with you” and more just as expressing that you support him and care about him and want to check in to see if he’s alright, etc.

(And, if he doesn’t want to discuss it or brushes it off, don’t keep pushing. I would just leave it and maybe try to discuss it later. You want to establish trust, and open communication, so being over-bearing could just be off-putting and make him even more reluctant to ever discuss anything or confide in you.)

Since I can be really easily suspicious of others, Also try to keep the conversation very normal, and don’t do anything out of the ordinary to preface it, like giving him a gift, or being excessively polite/nice to try and get him in a good mood to have the conversation. When people are really nice to me or suddenly want to do me favors out of nowhere or etc., instead of it seeming like a kind gesture, I usually get suspicious and assume they want something from me. 

AND don’t approach him as a group!!! I don’t know him personally, but I think most anyone who suffers with paranoia or etc. really dislikes communicating in group scenarios, and especially if the whole goal of the conversation is to try to broach a sensitive topic like this, I would feel cornered and afraid if it was an entire group of people, even if they were my family or people I knew lol. 

Also, I think the main thing is to focus less on the diagnosis of specifically saying he has StPD or etc. (especially since from the wording of the ask, it sounds like something you suspect, but that hasn’t actually been diagnosed), and more on the specific symptoms that are causing him distress. If you come to someone just saying “Hey, I think you have StPD”, they could get defensive if it sounds like you’re labeling/diagnosing them, especially if they don’t see themselves the same way. But, if you frame it around something that has been causing them trouble already (like “Hey, I notice it seems like you’ve been having a lot of anxiety around others lately, is everything okay?”, etc.), then it comes across more clearly as genuine concern, without trying to assume anything. 

(as a side note - there are combinations of things that could mimic what seems like ‘StPD’ symptoms to the outside observer (but actually aren’t), and people can also be “schizotypal” without actually having a personality disorder (it’s possible to have some schizotypal traits, but without them genuinely causing a level of distress/functional impairment/etc. that would be clinically significant. Kind of like how everyone experiences social anxiety at some-point or another, but only some people would experience it to a severe enough degree/frequency that it’d be considered a disorder. Or how literally everyone dissociates to a certain degree under certain circumstances, but only in some cases would it cause enough impairment to be a dissociative disorder. All human traits are on a spectrum). I’d be cautious about attributing labels to him from afar, especially since you don’t know what’s going on internally with him/inside his mind. Your guess may be right based on what behavior of his you’ve observed or etc., but don’t be too attached to the idea or let it influence how you go about this too much if he were to open up to you and his experiences don’t seem to match that as much as you thought, or etc.  It can also be overwhelming for some people, especially in an already possibly tense conversation, to have random medical terms thrown at them. Just try to let the conversation occur naturally without bringing up diagnosis or making too many assumptions (unless he brings it up first or something/shows he’s interested in specifically talking about that. Even then, be gentle how you go about it.))

Also, be sure to pay attention to what his concerns are, VS. yours/your family's. For example, I don’t socialize very often, and it’s not distressing at all to me. I don’t have secret underlying needs that I’m repressing or hidden agony at the fact that I go months without speaking to others, I just genuinely have a very low social need. Other people sometimes see this and worry for me, telling me “Oh you must be so lonely! It must be so terrible!!”, and try to invite me places or introduce me to people to “help” me, even after I repeatedly express it’s unnecessary/that the “help” is completely unwanted, so then it just comes across as invasive, and like they don’t trust that I know my own experiences. 

Everyone is different and has different ways of existing that are comfortable for them, and some of them may not make sense to other people, but that doesn’t mean it’s actually distressing for them just because it seems foreign to you. In the conversation, I would make sure to pay attention to HIS concerns first and foremost. Obviously, you can voice your own concerns for him and give your reasoning or etc., but if he says something isn’t a problem for him or doesn’t actually bother him, I wouldn’t push at that too much, since it’s just going to feel like you’re not really listening to him, or are trying to impose.  

If you do end up finding he has concerns of his own, pay attention and learn the symptoms that are distressing him personally, or impairing his functioning, and what exactly he feels like he needs help with. Then I guess the most important thing to work towards would be trying to help and support him through the process of resolving those concerns. Regardless of if he has StPD or has impairments from something else, it could help to maybe get some sort of treatment, a therapist (though make sure it’s a therapist that has worked with people with PDs, OCD as well, etc.), etc. Make this as easy as possible and ask if you could do anything to help, maybe you could help him look for therapists, or offer to drive him to appointments, you could help him look up resources to cope with symptoms in the mean time, etc. etc.  (But again, don’t continuously impose help if he refuses it. Sometimes we like to sort things out on our own, as many people with StPD tend to be solitary. If he turns down offers to help, don’t get mad or something, just let him know you’re there for him and that you’re willing to help in any way he needs, if he ever does, and if not, that’s okay also.) 

If it’s an issue that he doesn’t have a job (since you mentioned it), you could try helping him through that process. A pattern of dropping jobs like that could mean it’s actually difficult for him to work, so maybe look into disability programs, or something that could help him be able to support himself and have an income, even if due to his symptoms he’s unable to keep employment. If you live in the US., you could try going to a Vocational Rehabilitation center (though obviously maybe not right now due to things being closed from the pandemic, etc.). I’ve heard they can help arrange temporary part time jobs/work-trials to help evaluate if someone is capable of working, they can also handle things to get you a free psych evaluation, disability laywer if needed, etc. etc.  and maybe could be useful in terms of job concerns. If outside of the US., there might be similar resources where you are, and looking for those could be a good place to start. 

And of course, again, these have to be things HE wants to do (or is at least open to), based on his own personal concerns. Going to therapy wouldn’t even be helpful if he just resented the entire process, and had no motivation. You can present options and helpful suggestions, but ultimately it has to be something he sees a point in actually doing. Make sure to listen to him about his own concerns, what he feels comfortable with doing, any anxieties he has over anything in the process, etc. Really just respect his needs, listen, and be supportive in any way you can without being forceful or alienating. 

Also, lastly, don’t be disappointed if this isn’t just a Single Conversation sort of thing. Especially for people who are suspicious/untrusting, some may not open up very easily. It could take a while for him to confide in you or express his concerns, or be open to having that type of conversation. Additionally, he may have to figure things out himself as well. I’ve personally always been extremely introspective, even as a child I was constantly trying to question my own thought process, analyze myself, etc., so I’ve also been very keenly attuned to my own mental state and it’s easy for me to identify my own needs and what exactly I’m struggling with. But some people aren’t the same way. If a person isn’t used to thinking about themselves or evaluating how they are, they might not know specifically how they feel, or only have vague ideas, etc. It could take time to actually work through and think about just the main question of if he feels he needs help in any way, how he’s doing, etc. Again, really just listen to him and his needs, try to help respectfully, give him space, don’t assume things, be gentle, try to form trust and be supportive in whatever way possible. 

Hopefully some of that is helpful at least, in some way? I know it’s kind of rambly and maybe not the best organized lol. And of course, I’m not an expert or medical professional, and these situations are so highly individualized and dependent on the exact temperament of the person in question, your family dynamic, personal opinions of the individual (for example some people see mental illness as a weakness or have negative views, so suggesting they could have an issue like that seems offensive to them based on their own personal biases, etc.) etc. etc., many things that I could never know just over an ask. But, maybe at least a little could be useful. Good luck!!    - Luca 

~~ ALSO, if anyone else with StPD has any advice or something, feel free to leave it in replies, or contribute it somehow. This is just my one perspective, and could maybe also be helpful to hear from others. ~~ 

[artificialqueens]

don't play the fool now (multi) — chapter 4 - lily2

[ summary ] : bianca feels an unexpected emotion growing within her and shea is attempting to maintain her strong and calm aura around sasha who is continuing to knock her guard down.

[ authors note ] : hope y'all enjoy, part of me loves this chapter, other half hates it with passion but love this au so it’s alright xx — lily.

— ✧*。

A knock at Sasha’s studio apartment made her a bit nervous, she didn’t know of anyone who was supposed to come today, let alone to her apartment in Brooklyn. She stood up, putting the magazine she had been reading as she shushed Vanya, her dog, who had insistently barked at the door for a good minute, pushing her back gently she unlocked the door barely, “Yes?“ 

“Sasha it’s just me.“ 

The voice and face was instantly recognizable and the Russian smiled widely, unlocking the door and hugging Shea who hugged tight, picking her feet up from the ground a bit and laughing as she put her down, their arms around eachother’s shoulders. 

"I’m very happy you are here so unexpectedly don’t get me wrong but how long was the drive?" 

"Oh, it was only twenty minutes, I live in New York City babe." 

Their lips pressed together and Shea felt herself entirely falling for this blonde detective who she had just met, the native Chicago girl always spoke about how untrustworthy everyone was who wasn’t family and could only love someone with years of bonding but here she was, unintentionally wrapped around Sasha Velour’s finger, completely immersed in everything possible that involved Sasha.

They seperated, still holding onto eachother as Vanya barked and wagged her tail with no restraints as she almost practically jumped into Shea’s arms though she couldn’t possibly complain, she had three dogs back home and loved them, she adored all animals but dogs were the closest to her heart.

"Vanya!” Sasha groaned, “Im so sorry, she doesn’t usually trust people but guess she knows a keeper.” The comment made Shea flush, biting her tongue to restrain herself from laughing, cooing the dog and smiling as she was graciously greeted with dog kisses, her favorite. 

A dog trusts me, a hitman with her owner, who’s a detective. Either shit instincts or she’s trying to tell me something.

The two turned towards eachother and smiled widely, arms around eachother’s waist and shoulders, “So what brought you to my city?” The blonde the first to speak though a reply came right after, “I wanted to see you is all, sorry if I came during a bad time but I figured Saturday you probably don’t work." 

"I don’t!" 

They sat on the couch and Sasha offered alcohol which Shea wholeheartedly accepeted with no reservations, she wasn’t exactly a person who enjoyed vodka but she could handle drinking it with no further comment, taking a small sip and wincing, Sasha laughed gently. 

"It’s really strong, I got it when I was in Warsaw, they have all the extremely genuine Russian and Polish vodka I like.” Sasha being well traveled didn’t help the feeling in Shea’s mouth, she put the glass down though told her thank you for the offer, both of them giggling like schoolgirls though her hand only ran through Sasha’s hair, staring at her completely smitten.

“You’re so beautiful that it’s honestly concerning." 

Sasha’s face was completely red, it never felt sweet and kind hearing it from men at bars or the people at work, it felt like an act but something in her heart fluttered everytime Shea even spoke to her. "You’re a tease.” Was all she could bashfully reply with, staring at the ground though quickly Shea grabbed her wrists, pulling her closer, “It’s not teasing if it’s the damn truth.” She whispered as she put the stray hairs behind Sasha’s ear. 

There was a concerning amount of quiet from Sasha who only tilted her head and closed her eyes for a second, pondering to herself before grabbing Shea by her jacket and slammed their lips together, every time she kissed her it seemed like there was another star in the sky— no matter how disgustingly cheesy it sounded. 

Shea smirked against her lips and ran her hands down Sasha’s hips, causing an immediate response and a wince, “Oh, I’m sorry.” Apologising for any possible discomfort she felt, Sasha only felt her cheeks turn red as she spoke back, “Don’t apologise, it felt good.” A wink from her and that was when Shea knew she was in love and filled with regret: she winked and every wall she had built up for herself since she was a child and especially since she left Chicago was gone, gone because of one blonde and Russian detective. 

That response stirred something in Shea who immediately kissed her again, her hands staying at her cheeks, tilting her head and never feeling so wanting to kiss someone ever, Sasha was only happy, not wanting to speak about how it might be odd they had such a strong connection after about a day, she said nothing but kissed back passionately, toying with Shea’s hair, which was easy considering the hair reached about her stomach. 

Shea intentionally seperated early though their hands interlocked, “I hate to be awkward and all but—” she stood up and held up her now lonely hand, “I’d be happy to kiss you some more if you show me your room.” Sasha getting the gesture grabbed her hand and pulled her along, kissing her lips and biting her lip as she took Shea to her room, “I’d love to.”

*.✧

Shea wasn’t exactly sure what to do or think of herself: she had flirted and fallen so head over heels for the blonde that she was now in the Russian’s bed, gently running her fingertips down her bare shoulders, the two huddled together under the thick layer of blankets, she kissed the base of Sasha’s neck and wrapped her arms around her waist tightly, “You okay?" 

"I’m perfect.” She whispered with a genuine tone in her voice, she turned herself so she could be facing Shea who had a permanent smile drawn across her lips, their fingertips pressing together as Sasha spoke, “You’re amazing.” She breathed to Shea as she comfortably was held close, “Oh god you’re so damn romantic.” Shea laughed, “I can only say the same and more." 

Ask her Shea, do what you came here for.

"Can I ask you something a bit personal? You don’t have to answer!” She quickly added as Sasha blinked curiously, “Yes, ask away.” Her guard raised just a bit, Shea wasn’t like any of the others she had proven thus far but the Russian was always a bit weary.

“What do you do for a job?" 

She breathed a sigh of relief, that wasn’t what she was expecting and she didn’t mind talking about her work either. "That’s such a simple question, why were you worried?” Shea kicked herself a bit for thinking it was such a huge deal, to a normal civilian it was not, definitely.

“I’m a forensics detective, I just basically analyze and gather how the crime took place and look at any evidence obviously, I’m usually not on the scene though, I’m mostly in the building and doing my field of work." 

Shea smiled, It was definitely better than an investigatior or a regular detective, especially since she stayed in the building, "That sounds really cool, I can tell you’re into science and technology and all that I’m guessing." 

The Russian kissed her head, "Well yes, I have to be though in all honesty I was going to just be a professor of some kind of science, the detective and police world just kind of was in a drought and they pay much better, it was much easier than it is now to try and get an application." 

"You?" 

She knew the question was coming and Shea had calmly prepared herself an answer though lying to Sasha felt wrong, it almost felt inhumane especially when she flashed her gorgeous smile at the Chicago native. "Me?” She nodded, intent on an answer. 

“I honestly work around the medical field, I don’t like to talk about it though because well, you can imagine the stress. My best friend is a physician, she’s really good to have around when the job gets hard." 

Sasha frowned and nodded completely believing and biting onto every word, "I understand, I’m passionate about my work but I don’t like knowing in the back of my head that I’m looking at the last thing someone might have saw before they were shot or murdered or in a crash, anytime I know there’s another person gone it hurts." 

The other woman nodded and kissed her lips, holding her cheeks gently, "You’re amazing and you don’t need me to tell you but I think you need to hear it outloud.” Shea smiled as she finished speaking though in the back of her mind she was utterly terrified: how many of those pieces of evidence or blood were caused by her or her team? 

“We have a lot of cases with the mafia that seems to be running around.” Shea immediately perked up, wanting to hear what Sasha’s own thoughts were, “Oh really? I’ve heard about some of the cases circulating around the office.” The Russian nodded, anger clearly pointed in her words, “It’s awful! I don’t understand why people feel the need to kill other people and for money? And usually it’s for petty reasons, not to mention all the other kinds of crime my co-workers have to answer to.”

She nodded a bit breathless hearing Sasha who egged on and on about the matter, Shea eventually putting out an arm, “Hey, it’s okay, don’t get so worked up babe.” Kissing her forehead and standing up with Sasha, “I say we go and have lunch, together, what do you say?" 

Oh how impossible it was for Sasha to possibly say no to Shea. Shea Couleé who was so irresistibly charming and sweet, outspoken but beyond words loving and passionate and everything Sasha had ever wanted. 

"I would be happy to." 

*.✧

Adore tapped her boots across the concrete as she skipped along to the loud noise of New York City, it was a much different city than Azusa but she welcomed that with open arms. California wasn’t too bad of a place to live in all honesty but Adore never enjoyed it even as a child. The minute she was old enough and graduated from college in Los Angeles she packed her two suitcases and swerved around the big city, completely struck with fear and excitement until she met Tatianna who landed her the job. 

It definitely was weird going from a music major to a detective, Tatianna had only managed to get her the job since Adore had stellar scores in all her exams, despite never taking time to study, and she had minored in criminal justice. She took it since she was in high school and enjoyed it so much she decided to minor in it. 

Being a musician and singer was still her biggest dream but right now she was simply focused on getting her job done even if it meant abiding to the dress code which Adore Delano, queen of fishnets and jeans, could barely stand. She atleast didn’t have to wear a hat or any stupid shit she’d seen in movies or around the office sometimes, the outfit definitely gave her looks both good and bad when she walked into an establishment. 

"I came for coffee and I can’t even find a Starbucks, Jesus.” She muttered before turning around amongst the herd of people, staying at the sides of the buildings and walking back, looking at her phone occasionally to text Courtney, who inisited there was one only five minutes from their office. 

To Courtney: I can’t find this starbucks!!! I might be stupid and slow but I can smell coffee from several hundred miles away, can you please send me the address and what everyone wants? 

She put her phone in her pocket before walking along the now deserted sidewalk lined with various stores, most people we’re just heading to work, at work or going to the metro, all Adore needed to do was find some damn coffee.

Her phone beeped but she looked down before knocking into another person, she gasped and grabbed her phone which somehow survived the pavement before turning her attention to the person she had knocked over before helping her up though her heels complicated things just a bit. 

Adore brushed her hair behind her face and put it in a ponytail before hearing a distinctly familiar groan, “Jesus fucking christ, almost broke my heels on the sidewalk of New York City.” Her words spewed out angrily before their eyes met and Bianca stepped up, piecing together almost immediately that this was that same beautiful girl from the casino, “Hey, I know you!” She yelled before Bianca could even respond, she let go of her waist once she balanced herself, “I also do, you can’t take your eyes off your damn phone can you?" 

The younger detective felt a rosy blush across her cheeks, quite embarrassed to have made the wrong impression twice on the same gorgeously witty and aggravated girl from the casino, "I’m so sorry, I’m trying to find a Starbucks, guess my co-workers can’t walk so they had to send my lazy ass out.” That earned a snicker from Bianca which gave Adore a bit more confidence. 

“What’s your name? I saw you yesterday.” The grin plastered across her cheeks made Bianca’s knees weak, she wasn’t that old yet— her face and tone was just that damn charming. In every other universe Bianca would’ve pummeled her and bitched for a good ten minutes but something about her was oddly and clearly attractive: personality and face. 

“I’m Bianca, just Bianca, no fucking nicknames please.” She pleaded before Adore laughed, “Okay B.” She immediately replied though she waved the joke off, “I’m kidding, Bianca.” The name rolling on to her tongue perfectly. 

“I’m Adore!" 

Cute name, Bianca had to atleast give a faint smile to the girl who was just desperately trying to find a Starbucks, "If you keep going down this street and turn left, right next to that Asian market, you’ll find it.” Adore gasped and held her shoulders, “Thank you, thank you! Jesus, you respond more concisely and faster than my co-workers." 

She wasn’t sure why it took so long to realize Adore was in her uniform, a detective uniform, suddenly every single heartbeat grew faster and faster: she was probably much newer considering she was just walking out and about and fetching coffee like a damn server but that didn’t stop the visible panic in Bianca’s eyes.

"You okay? You look a bit tense." 

Bianca snapped from her delusions and thinking, "Yes, yes.” Adore cocked her brow and crossed her arms not believing her, Bianca rolled her eyes. “I’m fine really, I just have issues with my blood pressure and you know problems ladies have, I feel a bit light-headed is all.” She lied though the younger girl frowned, grabbing her hand instinctively, “Do you want me to buy you something from the place? You can atleast sit and eat something." 

"Oh don’t worry about me, I’ll manage and I live only like four minutes away, not as if I need an escort." 

Adore wasn’t buying it but she couldn’t suffice wasting anymore time so she nodded, "What’s your number?” Bianca definitely didn’t see her being so honest, they had barely even had a conversation and only met because the detective was a complete klutz, “Seriously?” She barked, laughing though Adore was not joking. 

“I’m serious! You’re the first person since I’ve moved who’s actually attractive." 

That was definitely a compliment worth hearing, Bianca knew it wasn’t a smart idea at all: Adore probably didn’t even know a damn thing about the mafia circuits around New York but it didn’t make Bianca look like any less of a fool when she punched in her number to Adore’s phone. 

"Don’t text me every three minutes or I’ll block you real quick.” She joked, the younger girl smiling, “I won’t, see you soon enough!” She yelled before turning on her shoes and walking away, ignoring the buzz of her phone. 

You’re a damn fool Bianca. 

*.✧

“So we’re a bit closer, it wasn’t exactly what the wanted but she still got all of the copies of his certification and such, Violet said they cleaned everything up easy after with some help from Katya, who of course had absolutely nothing to say.” Bianca laughed heading Sharon tell a bit more to the story from last night, it was very Katya of Katya to jusy help hide a dead body and clean blood off of her carpet with a simple smile while still in latex.

“I’m impressed, she adapted and Violet to, I usually pin her off as brainless and unable to focus, which she can’t, but good on her. I’m satisfied for what they had to do and get.” Sharon felt nothing but pride to hear that Bianca, her friend but also her boss, the head of this entire operation, said her “daughter” did a good job. She was raised by the best! 

Scrolling through the paperwork that Jinkx had managed to download and find when looking through the ID’s there was a knock at Bianca’s office door, her and Sharon quickly met eyes, confused as to who would willingly interupt their personal business, it was a known rule that unless it was emergency you didn’t knock ever on Bianca’s office; though looking through USB’s and paperwork wasn’t the most exciting thing. 

“If it’s your daughter I will absolutely—” Sharon almost immediately glared, unable to accept any critique of her daughter, only praise though Bianca was kidding, Aquaria was a good teammate and an even better fashion designer, if she wasn’t lying low so often she would absolutely have a twenty room mansion from her fashion brand, making millions in Milan. 

Sharon opened the door a bit forcefully, Bianca raising an eyebrow before seeing Alaska who waved, Detox right next to her and sighing, head in her hands. “Jesus Christ…” She said aloud glaring at Alaska’s white dress that was completely doused in blood, Detox only holding up a file and tossing it to Sharon who handed it to Bianca, not wanting to step inside with the nice marble floors, worried that Alaska’s blood stains would continue to drip.

“So you killed her?" 

Detox could almost scoff, as if it was a question. "Yes, Alaska did most of the dirty work obviously but I found the file and then we ran.” Sharon turned to Alaska and muttered something unintelligible to Bianca who ignored if anyway, Sharon grabbed Alaska by her hands and turned to run with her out the door, insinuating she bathe and get all the dried blood out her dress and leg.

“We’ll be back!" 

No they won’t. 

"I’m so mad!” The blonde whined as they ran out the door, “Aquaria made this for me and now it’s ruined, dammit.” Sharon had to smile at Alaska’s awakening, “Don’t worry, I’ll get her to make you a new one.” The door closed and it was just Detox and Bianca who definitely didn’t have the most reliable friendship or even work relationship.

Bianca gestured Detox to sit, “Since you’re already inside.” The two awkwardly exchanged glances, Detox wasn’t exactly what they’d call a teammate, it was all very accidental and all Alaska’s fault she even got involved when she just had to help Alaska from being chased by police yet again. 

Bianca never would really trust her, no matter how much love and faith Alaska claimed to have for her so-called “Best friend.” Detox would always be an outsider to her though she definitely had gotten much better and finally immersed herself in the job and took orders well. She could hate the bitch all she wanted but that wouldn’t excuse the fact that she was intelligent, she was gonna become a laywer for god’s sake, she knew every corner of the city despise being from California originally.

Bianca put her phone down, trying not to think about other things, other people at the moment. “So you said Alaska pulled the trigger, got that, so what’s the file for? I really just wanted the fucking girl dead.” Detox crossed her legs and nodded, “I got the file because she seems to have worked or had some kind of professional relationship with the guy you’re trying to get money and hunt down, the one Aquaria and Violet we’re trying to find information about." 

She was almost impressed, almost.

"Really?” A genuine suprise and distinction in her voice, Detox nodded, glancing down at her acrylics, “Broke a fucking nail for it to.” She groaned as Bianca snickered, just as posh and uncaring as she always is.

“Well, next time don’t just come in especially when you clearly see the door closed, thank you though, nice find.” That was about the biggest compliment ever made to the younger girl since she had started, she got up and excused herself from the table, “Thank you." 

"Close the door please.”

She did and then Bianca was alone, she and Adore had talked a bit and looking through files curiously she had some interesting information, simple government files, no sluthing required. The most interesting text was her admitting to Bianca, like an open book, she was a music major and a singer.

It was definitely a surprise though Bianca from the minute she heard her speak and saw her in the uniform could tell the work of a detective or crime solving wasn’t exactly Adore’s dream career or something she had been dying to do. 

She could absolutely rip Adore to shreds with no utter remorse for her well being, just gut her and get another detective off their asses but she was an odd case— in a very charming, attractive way. Bianca had an unknown feeling in her stomach whenever she texted back or smiled at her earlier today though Bianca wasn’t usually one for a public apperance unless she was being paid or it was for purposes of a certain event or close friend.

Maybe I could use her, she is a detective after all and probably works with all the fucking people trying to get me and my partners.

Sucking in a breath she shook her head, feeling that it was a bit too much, too soon. 

God know’s what’ll happen at this stage.

[lvkswrites-blog]

Suckerpunch

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: language.

Summary: Reader becomes Steve Rogers mentee.

Foreword: The setting would be pre-CW and I think it fits the scene because this is the time Tony Stark and Peter would meet. Basically, I want to create a Steve Rogers who also have a mentee of sort.

P.S Let me know if you guys like this.

(x)

Third person point of view

The day Y/N found out that she does not want to live a life like everyone else is the day she punched a guy in the cafeteria. The guy looks pretty pissed while laying on the floor. Who wouldn't right? He didn't thought that a girl, a lower year even, could send him to total humiliation. Kids of different years cheered on, hoisting emotions from the two hot heads. Y/N, was about to jump towards the guy and give him another strong punch but her jab was caught by the gym instructor.

"Detention, Y/F/N!"

Every kids who encircled them cram and push one another back to their lunch table. A furious Y/N stood still infront of the instructor and the kid. Deep inside she was muttering things she could've done to the guy, who apparently thought making fun of her friend was nice, if only she was fast enough.

She explained everything to the principal and it made her feel hopeless. The guy would still be abstained, he looked like the lesser evil in this one. Y/N had been to detention more than the kid so she knows that it'll be listed on her record.

A guy brought in a tv and she was again infront of a talking Captain America. That moment, in a detention chair, a not-very-brilliant-self-reflection dawned to her. She did not wasted any moment and grabbed her backpack. She swore that she'll never go back again in the "stupid hell of a place".

Y/N is a person of misfortunes. Her dad died in a mission in Benghazi and her mom died from drug overdose at a young age, taken in by a problematic foster parents, and has identity vs. role confusion. But she was certain that she have a feeling inside her that she can't ignore.

The bus ride is short but enough to drown her with thoughts. Y/N plugged in her headphones and hugged herself.

At an old and rusty steel door, She stood. Her hoodie covering her and her backpack hang off over one shoulder. She knocked and waited for reply, when no one answered. She tried to slide the steel door. It didn't budged. So she tried another way, she went to the alley and search for an entrance. She stopped at her tracks when she found it. Apparently, behind a stink garbage can. "Blehk, eew." With one push she successfully pushed it.

A pick lock is all it takes.

"Now that's more like it."

-----

Steve knows that the owner would be there at the gym he would always go to, but he did not know that there would be someone else aside from him.

Grunts after grunts. Breathy exhales. Beat of trainers hitting the floor. The room felt almost motivational to start his usual workout. He must be careful tho, he do not want attention.

"You are here early? How did you get in?", a voice startled Steve. Steve spun and saw the gym owner.

"I just got here and I- I thought you opened this?"

"I did not." The owner replied. They both shared a look and found a girl in a corner lost in trance while lifting.

Steve approached the girl in a manner that will not scare her. He was gentle even, slowly squeezing information out of the girl. However Y/N can really act well. She said that "I thought it's open, I mean, the lights are on and the door is open so." Steve bought that and talked again to the owner that if anything is missing it might be a break in, if it's not then he must not worry much. The owner trust Steve so he let it be.

A sly smile formed in Y/N lips.

Steve went on his usual routine and let the spirit and sweat fuel him. Like any other fitness junkie, once you start feeling your body fire up it's addicting. He did not realized that per punch he release to the bag, it gets harder. The bag broke from it's chain and it made a loud "thump" as it fell.

*clap clap*

"Captain America," Y/N said while stepping forward. "I thought I might see you here."

Is she a spy? She sound odd. Things came into Steve's head like a computer wiring data.

"You're like a kid on a math test when you think y'know."

"Well, who are you?"

"-I'm just a kid from Brooklyn," Y/N sticked her hand out for a handshake. Steve's eyes trailed the hand infront of him and she waited... She waited until Steve decided to shake her hand. "Steve."

That is when her life officially changed. Y/N and Steve would always meet in the gym and train. They both share this understanding, like telepathy, that shaping up does not just make you feel better but help your head think straight. Days after days of sharing details and small talks. Steve watched her in a distance. Steve learned that she had been struggling with parents, and she have a dream becoming a soldier, and she wants to push her limits.

Steve did not saw a girl trying to impress him. He saw fire in her eyes, powerful motivation, a desire to have a purpose. He saw himself in her. Suddenly, he was back again in 40's. Trying so hard, application after application. He remember... everything.

"Hey, kid. Place is about to close." Steve called, making her pause the treadmill. He gave her time to catch her breath before he dropped the question, "You don't mind chinese takeaways for dinner, don't you?".

Sharon Carter is an agent working for Nick Fury. Lately, she had been assigned to look over Steve Rogers. Steve know and met Sharon knowing she was a friendly neighbor.

Steve and Y/N passed by infront of Sharon's door just in time when she opened it from the inside. Steve acknowledged her with usual greeting. Y/N hung her head as low as possible. Sharon's gaze turned from Steve to Y/N.

Steve racked his brain for an excuse and the best lie he come up with was, "She's my dishwasher." Both Sharon and Y/N's expression is an evident i-knew-it face. They both know Steve is bad at lying. To keep Sharon's act viable, Sharon agreed and excused herself to do the laundry.

Sharon head to the stairs and the two head towards Steve's flat. "You are such a dick, Rogers." Sharon heard. "-language!" Steve warned.

Nick Fury was at his office that time when he received a call from agent Carter. "Agent Carter... What?... Did you manage to take a photo?... Okay I can work that out... Okay... She's a hostile, for now. I'll pay Steve a visit as soon as I can." Nick Fury ended the call with an odd feeling. He tried not to think much about it and truth to be told, he felt that Steve was just trying to catch up in times. After all chivalry is dead, Fury thought.

Nick did paid a visit to Steve's place. He made it really a not-so sneaky one. He was welcomed by a supersoldier pinning him up against the brick wall. "What are you doing here?" Steve whisper-yelled. Nick did not answered and directed his eyes towards the sleeping body in a matress.

Steve released him and said, "Let's not talk here."

"Really? Here?" Fury said in dismay. Steve shrugged. "I ran out of eggs." Fury stopped him by the arms and said, "I told you I'll keep an eye on you."

"-I noticed." Steve retorted and pulled his arm.

"For fuck's sake. If you want a dog, I'll get you one." Fury said and he's furrious. "Rogers. That's a fucking 16 year old, a girl even, and you think- You think you can have someone following you around and listening to your orders-"

"-You don't understand." Steve growled.

"Then make me. Explain it to me..."

"Okay fine. If she fail, she leave. If she pass, she'll stay."

Y/N woke up that day with the sound of clammoring plates amd smell of cooking. She felt a bit concious.

"You don't have to make me breakfast, old man." Steve chuckled at her remark. "Goodmorning, to you too." Both fell silent after that. Both are not used to sharing meals with a person in an intimate space. Y/N chuckled and ate her food in silence.

Steve then explained everything. About fury. About the test. Y/N was not shocked but Steve is. Y/N grabbed her backpack and pulled out her dad's dog tag. Apparently, the dog tag has a shield logo in it. It glistened as the sun light beemed on it.

"I've been low-key researching about S.H.I.E.L.D, I- kinda expected this to happen."

Time skip and a series of extreme running and combat training with Steve. Y/N is ready to face Nick Fury for a test. Although it did not started in a controlled environment, it happened in a laundromat.

Y/N and Sharon are both waiting for their laundry to finish. Y/N started small talks like how's life, what she do, where she came from. "So, you said you're a nurse?"

"Yes," Sharon replied with a smile. That day, Sharon is really in need of laundry service. She have to wash her uniform.

"Do you work during the days?" It's starting to bother Sharon. Personally, she likes her job but when interrogations happen it annoys her.

"Mostly. Life as a nurse is unpredictable, it can change any moment.", Y/N seemed pleased with her response.

Y/N laundry stopped and she started fixing it like any people would. She tried to supress the adrenaline. She breathed in and out in a disciplined manner. She knows that S.H.I.E.L.D trained its agents well that even breathing pattern could be a sign of distress.

She then headed for the door with her laundry, instead of stepping out. She flipped the 'open' sign and slowly locked the door.

"Y/N," Sharon called. "You dropped these." Sharon did not expected the attack. While she was distracted, Y/N grabbed the opportunity to lock Sharon between her arms. Sharon pushed their weights and Y/N hit her back on the laundry machine.

The two started making a mess machine after machine and no one is near from surrendering.

"Why. are you spying on. Steve." Y/N said between attacks. Sharon kept on dodging. She was told that Y/N is a hostile and no harm. Sharon was just dodging every attack Y/N did.

Sharon is lost in her own thoughts while dodging a furious Y/N. Sharon did not expected that Y/N could have much precision and powerful punches. Sharon did not fully understood Y/N mentioned something about Rogers and protection.

Steve and Sharon only shared glances and small talks in the duration of her mission. However, long before she met him she already heard stories from Peggy about a man he worked with. Needless to say, Sharon grew feelings for Steve. Something about Y/N overprotevtiveness aura made her snap. "It's my job, not yours." Sharon thought to her self repeatedly but she kept silent. She then became as assertive as Y/N.

The change of Sharon's body language made Y/N know it's beyond what she wanted to know. Her lunges and attacks felt personal.

"Finally," Y/N announced. They both stared at each others eyes before they started going for one another.

Y/N showed and applied what he learned from Steve, but Sharon showed that she is knowledgeable of MMA moves and aside from personal affairs it became a show-me-what-you-can-do.

Sharon is experienced in combats and her expertise in this really showed. Y/N's arm was about to be locked behind her arm but Y/N grew up catfighting in alleys and she is a nasty and outlaw contender.

Just in time before both girls kill each other, Nick Fury arrived.

-----

Steve and Y/N sat infront of each other silently. No one is trying to make a conversation. Both are tensed to what Fury will say.

From Y/N vision she could see a red haired woman walking towards them. Y/N's excitement tingled as she realized it's Natasha Romanoff. Media created an image that Natasha is a hot and skilled spy who once been in numerous deadly mission. She's Y/N idol. Now she sit there with a freshly bruised face with a stern don't-touch-me Steve Rogers.

Natasha introduced herself and she announced her presence was by Fury's order. Natasha casually joked about bruising Agent Carter's face for her.

Steve looked at Natasha and then at Y/N. He knew that moment that he made a right choice to take her in.

-----

Natasha stirred her coffee as Y/N teared her pack of coffee. "How'd you know that Agent Carter is spying on you?" Natasha asked.

"She keeps on glancing on Steve?" It sounded like a question.

"That's assumption."

"Actually, for a nurse, she looks pretty. I mean if she's being an undercover nurse she should-"

"Are you saying that nurses are ugly?" Natasha wheezed.

"No!" Y/N defended. "I mean, okay, whenever I saw her wearing scrubs I try to smell her. She doesn't smell like antiseptic or hospital scent that usually haunted me. I did not said it at first because you might think I'm a creep."

"Creep." Natasha joked.

[chwrpg]

Mom! I'll be right behind you in the hearse!

A NOTE FROM ADMIN R: Again, we had quite the battle of the CHW all stars for this character but in the end, I had to give Arden to miss Tiff. You put everything into this application and I loved that. I have such a clear vision of who this character is going to be in your hands and I am so excited for everyone to get to interact with this incredible being you’re putting onto our dash. Thank you Tiff for this application.

OOC NAME/ALIAS, PREFERRED PRONOUNS, AGE & TIMEZONE:

It’s Britney bitch, she/her, 25, CST

DESIRED CHARACTER:

Arden Atkins

HOW ACTIVE WILL YOU BE?

7-8

SECONDARY CHOICE:

DESCRIBE THE CHARACTER:

From the very second she entered the world the odds had always been stacked against Arden. Unlike most of the people she rubbed elbows with on the streets of Rosewood she hadn’t been graced with the good fortune of being born into wealth or power. There was no trust fund for her to fall back on or family business to take over. No, all Arden had to look forward to inheriting somewhere down the line was a pile of clothes from Goodwill and a beat up old trailer home that barely fit one person, much less the three women who currently lived in it; that was if they managed to even pay it off. Though who knew how long that would take since they could barely afford it as it was; based on her grandma’s disability checks, her paycheck from her job at Mallrats, and her mom working as a hair dresser. Still, for as unfortunate a hand as she was dealt, Arden never once showed or expressed dissatisfaction about having less than others. The way she saw it there was always someone out in the world who had it worse than her. Someone with even less privilege than her. And besides what was the point in wasting time whining about things when she could go out there and make it happen for herself? Some would attest her outlook on life to naivety, they liked to write her positivity off on the fact that she was still a child who hadn’t yet had a chance to see the world for what it really was. While others just believed she was a stereotypical blonde airhead who never had a care in the world. But in actuality it was because of the things she had grown up seeing, the hardships her family had lived through, that Arden chose to always bear a smile instead of putting up a wall or having her fists held up to the world. She just preferred to believe that all of her trials and tribulations could be turned into positive experiences; lessons to be learned, things that would help mold her into a stronger and more intelligent person. No, her life wasn’t perfect by any means, even when her family was whole. But she would be damned if she let herself become a victim of circumstances.

Just because she was content with what she had didn’t mean she was willing to settle. As much as she appreciated everything her mom had done and overcome to get their family out of the hole her dad had dragged them into she didn’t want to follow in the woman’s foot steps. Because she grew up with practically nothing that she wanted everything. In an ironic turn of events, that she didn’t like to dwell on too much, her drive for more sometimes even mirrored her fathers gambling habit. Except instead of placing everything she had on risky hands she chose to play them all. Odds were that the more doors she opened the more chances at success she would have. Arden didn’t believe in dumb luck, that went out the door the same day her dad and his bullshit did. What she believed in was creating her own luck. After all, as the great Oprah Winfrey herself said “luck is a matter of preparation meeting opportunity.” And she was more than prepared to do whatever it took in order to achieve her dreams. While other doors were closed to her others opened and she came to soon understand that the pageant circuit was somewhere she could get a foot in the door to propel not only her career but herself personally.

SAMPLE WRITING:

It’s lonely at the top…

It was something she had heard a couple of times in those melodramatic teen dramas growing up. One of those lame one liners that she would always find herself snorting over because from the outside looking in the solutions to their problems were literally right in front of them. But as cheesy as it felt quoting and comparing herself to a CW protagonist it seemed that what her life had started to become since beginning her pageant reign. The more titles she racked up the less and less it seemed like people wanted to be around her. And everyone seemed to have an opinion. Some welcomed her with open arms. Mostly the judges and sponsors who were looking to mold her into their ideal spokeswoman for whatever flat tummy tea or hair care vitamin they were trying to push on Instagram. Her competitors though? Not so much. She wasn’t from their world. As far as they were concerned she didn’t belong.

The blonde had come from nothing. Her family had no connections, they had no money, they barely even had a home to call their own. It probably didn’t help that to this day, with several competitions under her belt, she still showed up with handmade evening gowns and press on nails from Target. Others had been entered in pageants from the moment they could walk. They paid thousands of dollars for pageant coaching, and dance classes, hair pieces, spray tans, make up, and even fake teeth. While the most experience she had was binging a couple of seasons of Toddlers and Tiaras and watching Miss Congeniality with her mom at least once a month growing up. Walking in like a dollar store Barbie was a slap in the face. How dare she think she could just waltz in and act like she was hot shit?

Those were some of the nicer things that were said about her.

Yes, Arden was aware of the murmurs behind the scenes about her. There wasn’t any gossip around town that her mom’s best friend Loretta wasn’t in the know about. So it didn’t take very long for them to find just how vicious not only the fellow contests, but also surprisingly their mothers, could get with just their words. They were like vultures who searched for any scraps of their prey they could find to dish out. And she was an easy target for them. A hot topic that had spread like wildfire backstage was her family’s past. Her father’s history of unsavory habits wasn’t hard to track. The man had racked up a debt so large and conned so many people in Rosewood out of money that he saw no other choice than to run from his problems before they caught up to him, effectively leaving herself and her mother caught in the crossfire.

But Arden wasn’t one to sit back and concede because things got tough for her. No, she was the girl who made dream boards and hung them up on her walls so every morning she could be reminded of what she was working for. She was the girl who not only made goals but came up with a game plan on how she could achieve them. And made back up plans and back up plans for her back up plans. People could say whatever they wanted about her all that mattered was that she stayed true to herself, that her family would be proud of her, and that she put her all into everything she did. Maybe that was why she excelled at pageants from the minute she first stepped onto the stage. The way her mother recalled the moment it was like a hurricane storming her way through the rest of the competition.

There was, however, a tougher hurdle to cross and that came in the form of Beverly Leon and her mother. If Arden was a hurricane then Beverly was a whole damn tsunami. She wasn’t sure what she had done to get on their shit list but ever since she had walked in to first compete they had gone out of their way to knock her down at every turn. And . their fire only seemed to be further fueled the night of the Miss Windy City pageant. The night she finally managed to ‘snatch’ the first place title from Beverly’s hands, the rightful owner as the girl’s mother had so eloquently told her in that sickly polite tone she used in front of the other moms and even some judges when she was letting them know she wasn’t pleased. How someone could manage to make underhanded threats sound like simple backhanded compliments kinda scared her. But in a weird way also excited her. If the top of the food chain thought of her as a threat that meant she had to be doing something right.

The Q&A portion had gone smoothly. They always asked the same questions like where the girls saw themselves in ten years or what they would do if they were President for the day. And as she was still learning the answers never really strayed far from ending world hunger or ensuring world peace. There was a specific set of do’s and don'ts. Things the judges like and don’t like to hear. It was this portion of the competition that Arden felt she truly played it. She felt like she knew what the judges were looking for. They were looking for someone who could become America’s next angel. The poster girl for what it meant to be all American. Or at least their old school version of America. That much they made clear when they announced the theme cor the pageant would be Land of the Free. While they tried to be progressive in some respects there were clearly other aspects of pageantry that were behind on the times. Still. it was somewhere Arden felt like she could make a difference. It was where she could flex that 4.0 GPA that she had worked her ass off to maintain. Where she could show that she was as well spoken as Diane Sawyer and as insightful as Oprah. Where she could prove that yes she had the looks but there were brains behind those looks as well.

Her question that night? Who was her greatest inspiration?

“My greatest inspiration would have to be my mother. A God fearing woman who has learned to bring herself and her family out of less than favorable circumstances with hard work. Her strength to work full time but still be a diligent homemaker is what is a true testament of what women can accomplish if we truly set our minds to it. I hope to inspire people the same way she has inspired me be it with a child of my own or any child in need…” There was more to her answer but she could barely remember all the fluff she spewed.

What she didn’t mention in her response was that while her mom inspired her it wasn’t only through her hard work. But in the way that Arden was constantly reminding herself not to walk down the same path as her. Her mother gave up on her dreams for a man. She let herself be defined by his words and actions. And when she had been left with nothing but broken pieces of a family she had to pick up and glue back together on her own. She loved her family more than anything, she was proud of where they had ended up after everything. But she didn’t want to have to go through anything like what they went through ever again. It was exactly why she had cut off communication with her dad all those years ago. It took a while but she got past

Afterwards, while she was fixing her dollar store lashes from falling off she was caught off guard when a soft voice called to her from a couple of feet over. “Hey. I really liked your answer up there. You know, about your mom being your inspiration. I especially like how you added in the part about the children in need, total tearjerker.”

“Thanks. I almost went with Black Widow because you know, everything now a days is an Avengers reference.“ She teased, flashing a sincere smile at Luna. Though by now she knew that talk of her family had spread around the pageant circuit. Those who didn’t look down on her like she was garbage looked at her with pity. And she couldn’t help but reactively defend her mom and grandma. “I meant what I said up there though. It isn’t easy to rise back up from nothing. I believe that those who make something out of nothing are the real heroes.”

“Hey, girl, you go out there and live your truth. Personally I’m more of an X-Men gal. At least you didn’t get stuck with a shitty question like what’s your favorite season. They say there’s no such thing as wrong answers. But you know they’re deducting points if you don’t automatically say summer. Because, you know, independence and what not.” She shrugged coolly.

“You know, when I started I heard a rumor there was a frontrunner for a pageant who got all of the top scores. And the only reason she didn’t win was because she was an Aries. Is that for real?“ Arden asked.

“She was a Gemini actually.” Luna retorted jokingly.

Arden chuckled, happy she was able to talk to someone who didn’t seem like her life only revolved around the competition or winning.“So what about you? Who would you have said your greatest inspiration was?” She knew that Luna was probably just making small talk, maybe even trying to judge her competition. But Arden was genuinely curious about this girl. Luna was beautiful, seemed lively, and had the same air of determination she recognized in herself.

For the next twenty minutes until they had to go back on stage they sat there and chatted. It had just started out as small talk but the longer it kept on the more they divulged with each other. Each others reasoning for entering the pageants, their lives, their interests. It was just so easy to talk to Luna. She even told Arden about her brothers move to New York and how she wanted to someday follow in his foot steps. Talking to her was almost comforting. It felt like they had been friends all their lives.

That was the same night Beverly had “accidentally” tripped her on their way backstage to change into their outfits for the talent portion of the show. The same night she began to realize just how vicious these competitions could truly get.

ANYTHING ELSE?

1985