#going to my friends grad party later too

[dotster001]

How they Get You under the Mistletoe, Part Two

Summary: Staff and Non NRC students x gn! Reader

A/N: IT IS 11:54 ON DECEMBER 25TH, SO I FINISHED THIS ON TIME LET'S FUCKING GO!

Part One

CW:It's in my pinned post, and I've mentioned this in a couple posts, but if this is the first of my stuff you've read, I view NRC as an actual college, so reader here is 18+. If it makes you more comfy, imagine it as grad school age. Also, use of alcohol in Crewel's part.

Dire Crowley

Rage Bait

The ghosts thought they were helping. They had decorated Ramshackle, and you were having a holiday party before your friends left for winter break. But they'd also put up mistletoe. And every time you tried to take it down, they'd float up and move it farther out of reach.

“Surely there's a special someone who'll be here tonight,” one of them said with a giggle.

“We just don't want you to regret not making a move, when you're our ages,” another one said with paternal softness.

You grumbled and stormed back over to the party, which was quickly getting out of hand. The later it got, more people showed up, and now there were more strangers than friends in your living space. And as though that wasn't bad enough-

“Prefect!”

You groaned when you heard the headmage’s voice. You turned around from the broken glass you were sweeping up, and sighed.

“What can I do for you, headmage?”

“I consider myself very generous, and can overlook a simple celebration, but this is out of hand.”

“Yah think?” You shouted, gesturing at the fight that had just broken out in the corner.

“How do you plan to shut it down?”

“I'm working on it!” You snapped, walking away with a dustpan full of glass, ready to sweep up the newest disaster.

“I have an idea,” he said, half a step behind you, not missing a single beat, despite the crowd doing its darndest to separate you.

“What is it?” You said, only half listening as you set down the dustpan.

He grabbed your arm, yanking you to the side.

“Kiss me,” he said with a wicked grin.

“What the fuck!”

He smirked even deeper, pointing up. And there was the mistletoe from earlier….but you could have sworn it was over there….

You made eye contact with one of the ghosts who winked at you.

“H-how is that gonna help?” You stuttered.

“Surely, your peers would find it unsettling to see the Headmage kissing his lover.”

“Lover?” You rolled your eyes. “You're not my lover-”

“But you'd like me to be,” his eyes twinkled.

“You don't even give me enough money to reward Grim when he actually passes a test.”

“Doesn't matter. I'm a handsome man. You can't say you're resistant to my charms.”

You pulled out of his grip and snapped.

“Oh please! If I was going to go for any of the staff, I'd go for Crewel!”

“Really?” His eyes narrowed. “Perhaps you're too scared to kiss me.”

“What!”

“You're worried that if you kiss me, you'll be forced to accept your feelings.”

“Shut up!”

“I'm a very generous lover-”

You slammed your lips against his, angrily. He kissed back with just as much force, his hands twining in your hair. The anger turned quickly to passion, and you were soon overwhelmed by the feelings inside you, shoving him away from you as you pressed your hands to your open mouth in shock.

He smirked, and you realized no one was in your dorm, except Ace, who was staring in complete disgust.

Divus Crewel

Double dog dare you

Vargas and Sam were both drinking with Crewel at the staff holiday party. It was meant to be a calm relaxed evening. But you'd shown up to interrogate the Headmage about something, and now Sam and Ashton were acting like fools.

“C'mon, man up!”

“We know you want to.”

“Gentlemen, please, let's be professional,” Divus grumbled as he threw back his glass.

“They aren't in your class anymore!”

“And my friends say that they are head over heels for you.”

“C'mon man up!”

“If you say man up one more time!” Divus scowled.

“If you don't, he will,” Sam snickered, pointing at Crowley, who did, indeed, seem to be trying to huddle you over to the mistletoe that someone had decided to put up for some reason. Though, the longer Crowley was shifting you, the clearer it became that this was a malicious plot.

“I dare you to swoop them up from under his wing, and give them a kiss they'll never forget,” Vargas said childishly.

Divus looked over at you, snatched Sam's drink, chugged it down, then stormed over to the both of you, buoyed on by the cheers of his friends.

“Scuse me Headmage,” he slurred, yanking you to him and kissing you sloppily.

…

…

…

When he woke up the next morning with a killer hangover, he would have thought it was all a dream. Until he saw you sleeping in a chair by his bed, holding a bucket full of vomit.

Mozus Trein

The Parent Trap

He'd invited you to the holiday party at his estate in the country. He thought it would be a low key way to introduce you to his daughters. If you got overwhelmed, you could blend into the crowd, or hide in his guest room upstairs, and no one would even notice you'd slipped away.

His daughters were a little too excited that he was dating again.

“Papa, you gotta!”

“It would be so romantic!”

The good news was, they liked you. Unfortunately (fortunately?) they might have been a little too excited.

“I'm not going to pull them away from the party, just to kiss them under a leaf,” he said with a glare.

“Don't worry, you don't have to pull them away!” Ania said with a smile, pulling out her magic pen. Unfortunately (fortunately?) Ania was incredibly gifted with flora magic. Materializing mistletoe above the two of you would be simple.

“I absolutely forbid it,” he hissed.

“Y/N! Over here please!” Darleen called to you. You politely excused yourself from the conversation you were having, and walked over to the group, eying his children nervously. Your gut instincts were definitely right.

“You don't have to-” Ania covered Trein’s mouth with her hand, giggling excitedly.

“What's going on?” You asked, eying him in concern.

“Just stand right there!” Darleen said, both daughters taking three steps back, before Ania quickly muttered a spell. You looked up and saw the mistletoe, your eyes widening. You looked over to his daughters, but they were already running away, hiding in the crowd.

You looked at Trein, feeling your cheeks warm as he stared at you with an empty expression on his face.

“We don't have to-”

He said, gently taking your hand in his, caressing the back with his thumb.

“I would be a fool not to accept this gift,” he said, sounding bitter, but there was light in his eyes. You smiled softly, and he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips.

Ashton Vargas

Decoration Team

He'd somehow tricked you into decorating the employee lounge with him. You always thought he was more brawn than brains, but this wasn't the first time he'd tricked you into manual labor, so maybe you were the dumb one.

“Hah! Good work!” He slapped your back affectionately, and you stumbled into the table you were decorating, causing a couple of the tchotchkes you'd just placed to tumble forward. You frowned, and sighed, but he laughed again.

“Forget the table. I need you for something,” he snatched your wrist, dragging you to a corner of the room. Then, with absolutely no warning, he picked you up, and placed you on his shoulders. You gripped his head, absolutely terrified that you'd tumble.

“Don't worry. I got you. That's why I built up these muscles!” He momentarily let go of your left thigh to flex. This did not ease your panic.

He reached into his pocket and handed you something.

“Hang that on the ceiling right above ya! Let me know when you're finished.”

You stared at the mistletoe, and sighed. The sooner you put it up, the sooner he'd put you down.

“So, uh, is this a popular decoration for a staff party?” You asked, trying to ease your anxiety through conversation.

“Nah.”

“Nah? Done, by the way.”

He gently let you down from his shoulders, then turned you to face him.

“This won't get much use at the party. This decoration is for my….personal…enjoyment,” he purred as he took your chin in his hand.

Sam

*Gasp* you tripped!

Sam's shop always had weird things. But definitely the weirdest thing it had at the moment was the out of control mistletoe bush. A student had bought it, tried to cast a spell on it, then promptly returned it when he realized it was growing beyond his control. Normally, Sam had a strict no return policy. But he'd stared at it for moment, then agreed to the return.

It was the end of the night, and he was finally getting around to fixing it. He was simply staring at it, trying to puzzle out how to clean it up. You were staying far away. Partially because the monstrosity the mistletoe had become was horrifying beyond the realms of imagination, but also because….

You know…

Mistletoe.

Not that Sam wasn't unbelievably attractive. It just would be awkward if you both ended up near it. And Sam was a professional. He'd probably just laugh lightly and send you on your way. But still…it would be awkward.

Right?

“Sam,” you said, but he was so engrossed, he didn't hear you.

“Sam, I'm gonna clock out-” you had taken a step forward, but tripped over what felt like an outstretched leg, right into his arms.

“Ah! Are you alright, my little imp?” His voice sounded concerned, but the expression on his face didn't quite match.

“Y-yeah,” you said, trying to pretend you didn't notice just where you both were standing. He looked you up and down, rubbing your arms, as though looking for any injuries.

“You're certain?”

The mistletoe creature thing wrapped around the two of you, and you stiffened as you were pushed closer together. You tried to keep your mind off of the muscle you were feeling under his clothes.

“I know how to fix this. But should I?”

“Huh?” You gasped, mildly horrified about the implications.

“I can get out of this easily, but I could leave you as a sacrifice to the mistletoe.”

“What!”

He snickered. “Or we can make a deal.”

Uh oh. You've seen him do this to other people, but never to you….

“Sam, you write my paycheck. You know I don't have any money to give you.”

“I don't want money. But you do have something I want,” he leaned in so that your noses were pressing together. “I'd like your heart. Think that's a deal you can make?”

Neige le Blanche

Marketing Campaign

After the SDC, Neige had pushed to get his manager to take you on. And now you were a notable up and comer, doing projects with Neige.

This campaign was for a cologne. It was winter themed, with hints of cinnamon and cloves, and Neige was to be the figurehead of the campaign. But he'd been insistent that you be his partner in this ad. You hadn't tested the product, you hadn't received a script or any information, other than the fancy outfit you'd been given for the photo.

Your manager was quickly giving you the rundown as hair and makeup worked on you, and you were just kind of nodding along, until,

“Wait, say that again?”

“You're going to be kissing his neck while you stand under the mistletoe?” Your manager said.

You stiffened, earning a scolding from your makeup guy for wrinkling your forehead.

“I know it's a big jump for his image, but your face will be at an angle, so you might not be associated with the image cha-”

“Does Neige know about this?” You asked, your voice squeaking a little.

“Yes. Of course he knows,” you manager rolled her eyes, before continuing with the brief.

Your manager continued briefing you, but you felt light headed and couldn't focus on her words.

Now that you were on the photo set, you stood stiffly waiting for the photographer to pose you.

“Sorry, Y/N, I meant to tell you about the shift in my image, but I forgot.”

Would it be unprofessional to say that it wasn't the image shift that had you tense?

“Don't worry about it, Neige,” you tried to laugh it off, but quickly you were being positioned for the photo, Neige tilting his head back, fully exposing his neck, where it was implied that he had used the cologne from the campaign.

You were positioned with your lips pressed to his neck. You really doubted you even needed makeup for this shot, your face was barely visible, but whatever.

“I'm really sorry, Y/N,” he whispered, barely moving his lips as the camera whirred.

“Don't worry about it,” you whispered into his neck.

“Alright, slowly kiss up his neck, then you're gonna grab his hair and kiss him. Slowly. We want to do this in one take,” the photographer said. You felt your cheeks grow warm, and you made eye contact with Neige, whose cheeks were slightly pink.

“Sorry,” he breathed hoarsely.

“It's fine,” you whispered, following instructions, slowly, and kissing him, the taste of apples invading your mouth.

“Got it!” The photographer shouted, and you both separated quickly.

The photographer grinned at the photos on his camera, then raised that smile to you, giving you a wink.

“You were right, Neige, they were perfect for this one!”

You turned to Neige, your eyes wide, and you noticed he was heavily avoiding eye contact, his face bright red.

Rollo Flamme

Purity check

Can you tell from how I write him that I have religious trauma? 😂

Now that you'd been studying at NBC for a semester-long exchange program, you realized how close you'd grown to him. But still, sometimes you felt like you needed him to back off. You weren't a child, you could do what you wanted. Including-

“It's none of your business if I made out with someone!”

“There are rules to be followed on this campus. I don't know how they did things at NRC, but we have standards here.”

“Look! I didn't make out with anyone! And if I did, I don't need to tell you about it!”

You both glared at each other. He broke first.

“Come,” he said, grabbing your arm, and pulling you to the corner of the room where the mistletoe hung. He shot a glare at the couple that was using it, and they ran.

Come to think of it….this whole party was illegal. Why was he zeroing in on you? How was that fair?

“Kiss me,” he demanded.

“What!” You shouted, and his glare deepened.

“If you're worried about appearances, we are under the mistletoe, so it would be socially acceptable.”

“That's not-”

“Kiss me, and prove that you haven't been illegally kissing someone while at an illegal party,” he looked so fucking smug. Like he knew he'd won.

“How is that going to prove-”

“I'll taste someone on you. If you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to fear.”

“Everyone here is kissing people-”

“You're here to purify you from those mage’s poison-”

“You're insufferable!”

“Please just kiss him!” You'd forgotten the vice president was with him, too caught up in the anger you were filled with. “If you just do it, we can all go home! Please!”

You both glared at each other, then you sighed, and kissed him. When you pulled away, he pursed his lips, eying you up and down, his cheeks dusted in pink.

“Return to your dorm within the hour, and you won't receive detention.”

And then he waltzed out as though nothing happened.

Chenya

…I'm praying for your soul….

“Mwahahaha!”

You stiffened. You knew that laughter. He was here. You'd locked every door and window, just in case. You'd told him you were spending a quiet night in, when he'd stolen Ace's phone to text you. And you intended it to stay that way.

But that voice was nearby…

You grabbed a throw pillow from the sofa, preparing for the moment he would appear.

You felt something smack you in the face. You looked at the thing that hit you, that had fallen to your feet. You picked it up, rolling it around in your hands, before your eyes widened.

“Mwahahaha!”

“Wait…” you whispered, the implications of the mistletoe in your hands finally hitting.

The mistletoe was yanked from your hands, by an invisible monster. It reappeared above you, then a mouth was on yours. He tastes like stolen strawberries, and one too many desserts. The lips left yours, and you felt him disappear again. Then his tail appeared, wrapping around you, as you felt him set his chin on your shoulder, a purr making your heart rate calm.

“Mmm you're delicious. Glad I stole that little toy from Riddle,” he giggled.

“He doesn't know you're here, right?” You whispered.

“Hee hee,” he vanished with that giggle, as you heard.

“Y/N L/N! Relinquish the thief!”

....

Tag list- @shytastemakerthing @eccedentesiast-sapphic @leoll @stygianoir @lucifer5lucy

[spicywhenspeaking]

For @madomens !

Noah smut & giggles so 18+ nerds (affectionately)

unedited b/c lazyyy

🤪✌️

You haven’t seen Noah and the guys in over a two months since he went on tour. Your last year of grad school has been kicking your butt! Thankfully it’s finally over and as a graduation present Noah rented out a lake house for all of you to enjoy for a week of fun in the sun, swimming, jet skis and hours of lounging by the pool. You were so excited! About relaxing and having fun of course, but mostly excited to see Noah again. You missed him so much and even though you call and text constantly nothing can compare to being together.

The plan was to meet at the lake house since they where and heading strait there from the airport and my apartment is only an hour and a half away from the house they rented. I spend the drive listening to a mix of my boyfriend screaming and early 2000’s club hits making it a head banging and hip swinging car dance party.

The boys got to the house a few hours before me, I had a late start to the trip. In other words I woke up and had a flat tire and it took me 3 hours to get a new one on, no way I was driving long distance on a donut.

Pulling up to the house I’m shocked at the size, it’s massive with a long paved drive way. Noah must have been following my location because as I’m driving up he runs out the front door with a huge smile oh his face that I know I’m returning and looking like a love sick goof. I park the car and quickly unbuckle and he’s already half way there because of his long legs.

I’m out of the car soon and within a few steps in throwing myself up into his arms and wrapping my legs around his waist. “Oh baby I missed you so much” he says with his face buried in my neck. “I missed you too” I tell him back and begin peppering his face with kisses until our lips meet in a searing kiss. I’m not sure how long we’re lost in each other but at some point the other guys come out the door and see us. “Alright you two! Reel it in! You’ll have all week to suck face!” Nicholas yells and the two other laugh. Noah places me back on the ground and tousles my hair slightly. “Hey!” I call out and jump to mess up his hair in retaliation. He giggles and lunges out of the way towards my car to unload my bag. I sigh happily and head towards my friends to say hello.

Folio and Jolly both wrap me up in big hugs and congratulate me on my graduation. “Thanks guys!” I say to them returning their hugs with love. Nicholas come and puts his arm around my shoulder, ushering me inside. “Congrats dude, I brought my tattoo gun if you wanted some celebratory ink ?” I wrap my arms around him and thank him profusely. “Amazing! But maybe later in the week so I can go swimming,” he nods and we walk the rest of the way into the house.

It’s huge! With a huge front entrance and a double staircase that leads upstairs. We keep walking forward into the large living room. It has a big could couch that we all pile onto. Noah is following behind with my bag and leans behind where I’m seated. “Hey” he kisses my forehead and gestures his head back towards the stairs. “Let me show you our room” he sets my bag down, reaches over and picks me up off the couch and puts me next to him. Picking the bag back up and grabbing my hand he leads us to the stairs, “be right back guys!” I call towards the group that’s settled onto the couch.

Noah leads us up to our room, he picked the corner bedroom that has a en-suite bathroom and a small balcony. “Wow, this room is beautiful Noah! I can’t believe you rented this whole house just for me” I say in awe. He comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. Humming a quiet “I’d do anything for you baby” he nuzzles into my neck and leaves hot open mouth kisses and then sucks lightly at my pulse point.

“Ah, Noah what are you doing?” I ask surprised but leaning into his touch. It’s by no means unwelcome. His hands wander under the hem of my shirt, his fingers gently toying with the skin above my jeans. “I’m saying hi to my girlfriend.” He spins me around so we’re face to face. “Properly” he kisses me passionately and everything else fades away.

He hoists me up so I can wrap my legs around him again, this time we thankfully have privacy. He holds me close and walks us back towards the end and once we’re there he throws me back towards the pillows. He strips off his shirt and crawls up the bed until my let’s are on either side of him and his hips are flushed with my own. I drag my hands up his torso towards his broad shoulders and then down to feel the muscles in his arms. “You’re getting so strong, it’s hot” I wink and he grins, “yeah, pumping some serious iron” he jokes.

“You’re such a dork!” I respond and he laughs before moving to pull off my shirt. “Yeah well, you’re into it so just be a good girl and take the rest of your clothes off so I can finally fuck you. I’m dying over there”

My mouth hands open slightly, taking a moment to recover from both the pet name and the sexy demand. I scramble to unbutton and shimmy out of my jeans. He expertly unhooks my bra with one hand. Leaning down he places a tender kiss against my lips as his hands squeeze my breasts and tweak my hardening nipples. He kisses down my cheek and neck and down further biting and sucking onto my skin, taking my nipple into his mouth and swirling his tongue around the tight nub and I moan at the sensation.

Noah continues his path down my body until he reaches the top of my panties. Hooking his fingers down the sides be drags him slowly down my legs and tosses them aside. Pulling my legs apart his eyes darken, “oh I missed this” he says before diving in. “Fuck ! Noah” I yelp as his tongue flattens against my core, dipping in slightly. He starts sucking gently on my clit and my body bucks off of the bed. He adds a finger and pumps it in and out, angling to hit that perfect spot. “Ah! Noah, yes. Right there,” I moan and tangle my finger in his hair. He hums into me and adds another finger, stretching me and getting me ready to take his thick cock.

“Fuck, Noah. It feels so good. Need more.” I moan. “I need you inside me.”

He sits up and takes his finger out with a wet pop. Standing up he pulls off his pants and underwear and his cock springs up, slapping his skin. “Fuck, I missed you so much baby, can’t wait to feel you taking my cock” he says as he climbs back up and pulls my hips forward towards his own until they’re flush. He slaps his cock against my pussy and it makes an obscene sound.

He pushes in slowly and my wet core takes him in greedily. “Fuck” we both moan out in unison and he settles in when he’s fully inside.

He starts with an even pace and gradually picks up, he folds my legs up as he snaps his hips against mine with a carnal slap as he hits the spot inside me again and I see white.

Suddenly our door flys open and my orgasm is raking through me so I don’t have the ability to stop the low moan that leaves my mouth.

“Hey- pizzas her- OH FUCK!” Folio screeches and his hands fly to his eyes as he scrambles to exit. “She’s been here for like ten minutes man!! Have you no control” he continues to yell from the other side of the door.

Noah just rolls his eyes, his hips not slowing down for a second despite the interruption. “Are you okay?” He checks in mid thrust.

I nod and he readjusts my legs so he can circle my clit, he leans back slightly and spits down adding more wetness to our joined bodies. Soon I’m cleaning down on him again and calling out in pleasure as another orgasm rips through me.

“Okay, now you on top.” He says and swings us around to switch positions. Settling back onto his cock it feels even bigger and fuller inside of me. “Oh, Noah. It’s so good, fuck.” I rock up and down, bouncing and feeling him hit the deepest parts of me and it’s perfect.

“You feel so good baby” Noah says and pushes his hips up to meet mine, fucking me from below. The new angle is everything. I feel overcome with pleasure and third orgasm shatters me as I fall onto Noah’s chest trying to catch my breath. As my walls clench and pulse around Noah’s hard member, he gently pulls out and flips us back over moan as he spills his hot cum over my stomach and breasts.

“That was fucking amazing.” Noah says as he collapses next to me on the bed. “Fucking amazing babe.” He kisses my shoulder lightly and try’s to even put his breathes before getting up to run and grab a towel to clean off my stomach and chest.

After cleaning up and showering quickly, I throw on a clean outfit and we head back downstairs to join the others. We are welcomed with chorus of wolf whistles and hoots, “damn! You two can’t keep your hands off each other for ten damn minutes before getting nasty!” Jolly says. “Yeah, the pizza got delivered and I bet Folio fifty bucks he wouldn’t go up to tell you guys” Nicholas laughs and I throw a pillow at them. “You pervs, I can’t wait until y’all being girls around. I can tell them all about your fart contests and horrible taste in candy” I send a glare towards Jolly at the end. “Hey! Lots of people like licorice!” He contests. I roll my eyes, “yeah! A lot of old people, people in their nineties! Sorry grandpa” I joke and we all fall into a fit of laughter.

We flop onto the couch together and cuddle close.

“Put on a movie!” I say excitedly as I reach for the pizza and open the box.

“Alright, what’s your usually post coital movie choice” Folio asks with a shit eating girl.

“Hmmm” I tap my chin. “Let me think, what about the 40 year old virgin? Maybe then I’ll finally understand you guys” I joke and then I feel a pillow hit the side of my face.

Hope this is what you where looking for!!! 🫶��

[silviakundera]

Did a speedrun through modern cdrama Everyone Loves Me because I'm a fan of both leads. A fairly well constructed romcom for a specific trope, AND also one of the most valid examples of the critique that cdrama storylines are pointlessly over-extended. This would have been a great modern drama at 12 episodes. Unfortunately, it's at least 10 episodes too long. The literal gaming (characters interacting while playing videogames) is very light - it's an initiating plot device piece but doesn't consume much actual screen time. The real genre is IT workplace romance with Hidden Identity trope.

Do you like:

* Capable & ambitious female lead x male lead with a competency kink whose turn-offs are white lotus & green tea girls and turn-ons are brash ladies who can cuss you out; dressing up to impress is not required

* Romantic dynamic of equal partners (2 strong personalities, not active/passive)

* "We don't know yet who is going to be the breadwinner. My goal is to be a CEO."

* Low heat (just a few kisses),

* modern workplace dramas (so much working)

[heavy spoilers below]

The actual set up & outline are:

* Online friend group who casually game together, in the last days of university. One of the guys starts catching feelings for the girl, our FL (let's call him Gamer Friend). FL isn't romantically considering Gamer Friend at all, because she has a crush on a guy from her uni.

* This crush is Gamer Friend in rl! 😮

* ML isn't open to being crushed on by anyone at rl uni, because he is already hung up on FL (as his online friend) 🙈

* FL asks for advice from her gaming buds on how to pursue her rl crush. Gamer Friend doesn't want her to succeed, because he wants to win her heart, so he keeps giving terrible advice to chase him by acting out the soft-spoken innocent maiden archetype (the opposite of FL's real boisterous & brash personality)

* This creates a comedy of errors where ML in rl is being pursued by the woman he's in love with, but he's shooting her down left & right. This culminates in her confessing and he publically rejects her in a harsh manner. When she comes crying (and vengeful) to the group, the guys all realize the identity confusion. Appropriately horrified, bros have no idea what to do. (This whole scene is gold tbh.)

* This plotline covers 7 episodes, but should have been dealt with in 4.

* Next 5 episodes (should have been 2!): Gamer Friend, toiling under karma, tries to be virtually supportive of his beloved while in person desperately making gestures to show remorse & have her less willing to obliterate his RL person. (this is all complicated by them both hired into the same company post-grad; there's a whole gaming dev & art design subplot - like in Lighter & Princess, the writers did the research so the setting is reality-based). This arc ends with identity reveal: she finally knows irl crush = Gamer Friend

* Next 6-7 episodes lead her from being (rightfully) furious and humiliated to them finally becoming friendly & supportive of each other. He waits to ask for more until he feels truly forgiven for the shakespearean hijinks that kept them apart. Includes work drama and fake-dating For Reasons. This arc, again, could have been 3-4 episodes.

* Final 5 episode arc is dating era and culmination of the gaming dev plotline. Heavy emphasis on work drama. Only 2 out of the last 5 episodes had significant romance material for the main couple, which was the major flaw in the drama. Avoided the separation cliche but also no marriage scenes at the end - we just see that they're still close, supportive partners a year later. Should have been 3 episodes ;)

The structure is right for a simple rom com set up of: one party pursues, gets rejected, then the other party pursues & corrects their mistake. The misunderstandings are logical enough; FL is assertive and we see evidence of her talent (not just told); ML likes her for herself & doesn't want a childish, obedient woman like the idol dramas represent; they are shown to make a good team & respect each other; the wronged party isn't a push over and their forgiveness has to be earned. It's clear why they like each other and that they work as a couple. (Though the emphasis is on compatibility & domesticity rather than sexual heat.)

The showrunner just needed to compress each arc and spend a lot less time on corporate minutiae. The way I engage with this type of drama is to binge, skip all 2nd couple scenes, and liberal use of fast forward ⏩⏩.

[rosewaterandivy]

c'mon barbie, let's go party

summary: steve harrington learns to embrace his kenergy with a little help from his friends.

a/n: in honor of barbenheimer today, please enjoy steve's newfound kenergy in the kids aren't alright cinematic universe. that being said, you can absolutely read this as a stand alone too! i'm seeing barbie later tonight, so mentions of the plot are vague and culled from the teasers and trailers - any and all mistakes are my own! feel free to yell at me in about this in my ask box et al. i'm at the tattoo shop for the foreseeable future and need some enrichment in my enclosure. Reblogs, feedback, and likes are appreciated - reposting is not. Enjoy! 💜

p.s. sneaky peak at eddie and his gf from my upcoming series notes on a scene 👀

steve had it all planned out - made the appointment himself and triple-checked that your schedule was clear for the day. circled it on the communal calendar in the kitchen double-feature: barbenheimer.

the group chat had been made aware and eddie's girlfriend, inexplicably known as princess, had taken it upon herself to buy tickets for the gang, therefore dictating the order in which the films would be seen (film teachers, am i right?). oppenheimer first, which steve would suffer through - historical films were always difficult for him to get through due to the anachronisms, and ending with the pièce de résistance: barbie.

you were swamped with grad school classes (having applied over the spring and started your courses this past summer) and steve wanted to treat you to something nice and relaxing. and a trip to the nail salon would have been just the thing, if not for eddie & princess crashing it.

luckily, you didn't seem to mind and were happily ensconced in your chair waiting on your nail tech. you'd brought your own color, because you're picky like that, and let steve, and then eddie and his girlfriend (out of necessity), sort through your collection too.

he'd settled on something called a midsummer's dream from that one brand you liked (there seemed to be a package from them every few weeks or so), thinking it would compliment your choice of arcade monster quite nicely; a little sweet and a little sour.

"manicure and pedicure?" the woman at the front desk had asked. steve clarified that the mani/pedi would be for the ladies, while eddie and himself would just get the pedicures. though the chipped black polish on ed's nails was becoming unsightly.

but despite doing so, steve somehow found himself moved from the pedi bath over to a nail table and seated right next to you. you looked up from your reading (Prisoners of Geography by Tim Marshall, steve's suggestion) and quirked a brow. "whatcha doin'?"

"sitting here, i guess."

you smirk, "sure thing, babe," and go back to your book.

so when a well-meaning woman grabs his hand and places it in a bowl of water while asking about his color choice, he doesn't know how to respond. he could've sworn he just said a pedicure for him and eds, but when he looks down the row and finds eddie in rapt conversation with his nail tech about god knows what as she removes his chipped black polish, he's no longer quite as sure.

"psst."

he looks over to you, seeing an ill-attempt to repress your laughter. "you don't have to get a polish if you don't want to." and it's sweet, you're sweet for thinking of him and his comfort when this was supposed to be all about you and yours.

steve shrugs, "might as well at this point," and hands her the bottle of pinky-blue iridescent polish.

you tuck your chin toward your chest with a grin, teeth flashing bright against the pink of your lips. "a very nice use of kenergy, steve. gosling would be proud."

💅💅💅

your nails flash green-gold in the sun, a nice contrast against the magenta base polish. you’re sipping from a s’mores milkshake from the ice cream parlor after the nail appointment, eddie having spied it a few stores down.

("it's too hot to argue, harrington," eddie groused, but not before grabbing steve's hands to examine his manicure. "dude, that color is sick on you!")

“s’nice color honey,” steve says, pausing to drink from the milkshake when you passed it over to him. the cool blend of chocolate and marshmallows with graham cracker chunks hits his tongue as you send a deilvish wink his way.

“thanks baby,” your tongue glides against the full of your bottom lip, collecting a bit of chocolate. checking to see that eddie and princess are out of earshot, you pull him in by the belt loops.

“think they’ll look as nice wrapped around your cock later?” you rasp, voice dropping to a low whisper.

steve shudders at the husky sound of your voice and nearly chokes on the milkshake in response, flustered and blushing. your laughter rings out in the afternoon heat, as bright as the sun shining above.

you kiss him for good measure, lips cool and sweet, before catching up to eddie and his girlfriend a few paces ahead. and all steve can do is watch after you, struck dumb by his girl with her quick tongue and wicked words.

he gets it later that evening seeing barbie when they say: “she’s barbie, and he’s just ken.”

you did not tell a lie when you said to princess all those months ago, that ken would end up being steve’s ‘literally me’ character. truthfully, he’s just glad to end up with his dreamgirl.

and yeah, your nails looked just as pretty later that night. as did his when you fell apart on his fingers. a flash of blue in the dim light when his hands dug into the soft flesh of your hips— you coming with a ragged cry on his cock, face buried against the pillows of your bed.

steve may be “just ken” but he wouldn’t trade it for the world. not when he’s got a barbie like you.

[sunlightmurdock]

My Future in You | 0.2 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

Synopsis: Bradley’s twenty-two years old and not where he’s supposed to be. He’s supposed to be out of the academy by now. Instead, he’s retaking his senior year of college and praying to god that he gets into flight school. Mav’s gone, his mom’s gone. He’s mad at the world. Then, a hook up at a Halloween party changes his future even more than he could have imagined.

Warnings: accidental pregnancy, references to abortion in this chapter and a few to come, angst, drama etc etc, enemies to lovers if you wanna call it that, crying & early on pregnancy hormones, Bradley’s a dick

Special thanks to G @topguncortez for being the best wingman and listening to all my bad ideas + giving me all of her evil ideas in return 🥹

“Ma-ma!” The baby coos out. She claps her hands and receives a round of applause from an adoring family, giggling excitedly. She’s so loved. You snuggle softly and lock your phone. The video disappears from the screen. Is this what the next nine months would be like? — the next eighteen years? — Crying at videos of strangers’ babies on the internet?

You drop your phone onto the bed and let out a heavy breath. You grab your water bottle. You’re borderline dehydrated at this point. Your only symptoms of growing a tiny Bradshaw is that you’ve been having the worst cramps known to man without getting your period, and that you just can’t stop crying.

It’s ridiculous. Jake’s still the only person who knows, but last night your roommate mentioned in passing that she broke one of your cups — you had had to leave the room so that she wouldn’t see you cry. Before this, the only thing that had made you cry was calculus.

It’s December 12th. You’re due to go back to Texas next week for Christmas break. Roughly six weeks since Halloween.

Four days since you had taken two pregnancy tests on the bathroom floor in your college apartment. Half as a joke — literally only because one of your friends had made a joke about your period being later than usual.

You’ve had four extremely sleepless nights. Thinking about the apparently tadpole sized bundle of cells sitting in your womb, holding your future in its entirely theoretical and currently undeveloped palm.

You’ve googled just about everything about the fetus. Including all about drinking during pregnancy — you spent hours crying about that birthday party two weeks after Halloween. Apparently drinking at two weeks isn’t going to fundamentally alter the fetus’ life, but it still made you guilty.

This thing is just lucky it picked your exam season to start developing, otherwise there would’ve been plenty more alcohol involved.

You roll onto your back. You’ve been debating whether or not you even care, whether you should care. You graduate in a couple of months, you’ve already got a grad job secured — which you could easily defer starting for a year.

It isn’t like you’re in high school. You could get an apartment. You could have a baby that claps it’s hands and says mama, and does that screechy little baby giggle.

You sigh softly. You look down at your stomach. The tadpole hasn’t changed your physique at all yet. It’s there. You wonder what you would look like in nine months. Your graduation is in a little over five months. You would be six and a half months pregnant crossing the stage.

Your phone buzzes. Outside - J.

You push yourself up from your bed and put slip into some comfy shoes. Sunglasses are the only way to hide how puffy your eyes are right now. You head downstairs and shiver slightly as cold air hits you. You should’ve brought a coat.

If you have a kid, you have to remember to bring their coat places too. You swallow, willing yourself to keep it together as you cross the street and slide into the passenger seat of Jake’s car.

“Morning. How’s the tadpole doin’?” Jake greets, watching as you buckle your seatbelt. You’ve been texting him all week. Since no one else knows, Jake has had to put up with hearing every single detail. Not that he minds. If anything, it’s helping him warm up to the idea.

“It’s… we’re tired, I think. Didn’t sleep much.” You explain. The night before your appointment. You just keep thinking about your future. It doesn’t help that the night before you had a dream about holding a baby and it smiling up at you, curling it’s fist around your finger.

Jake nods, pulling away from the curb, “Still haven’t decided?” He asks.

You shake your head. You always thought this decision would be an easy one. Sure, you want kids. But you had always pictured that being much further down the line. You hadn’t ever pictured your kid being fathered by your brother’s best friend either.

“If you keep it, you have to tell Dad,” Jake points out, his eyes still pointed calmly towards the road. That’s not fair. Your Dad isn’t the calmest at the best of times. “He’ll know you had sex.”

“I think he knows his kids are sexually active, Jake. We’re not little kids anymore.” You rest your temple against your fist. It’s a pretty gloomy day. Makes sense.

“He wouldn’t let Lauren’s husband sleep in the same room as her for thanksgiving.” Jake points out. You’re screwed. Lauren’s your oldest sister, and your dad has always been most strict with her and you. Jake and Beth always get away with the most. You wish you were a middle child too.

“Do you think I’d be an idiot to keep it?” You fiddle with your hands. You can’t bare to look at Jake’s face, fearing that he might say yes. Jake glances across at his baby sister. Always so strong and capable. He purses his lips.

“I don’t think you’d be an idiot,” He decides eventually, you lift your head to look at him finally. He shrugs his shoulders, “But I do think it’s going to be harder than you realise.”

You nod. That makes sense.

“But, you’ve got me.” Jake promises. He shoots you a soft smile. “Whatever you decide, kid.”

You let out a breath.

That helps. You wonder if your parents will disown you over this. It’s a possibility. Your dad’s running for local council in Austin — it doesn’t look great to have a daughter in college having a kid with someone she barely knows.

Jake waits in the car for your appointment. You wish he could come in with you. Well, actually, you wish someone would just give you the right answer. Tell you what to do.

You don’t know what you’re so nervous about. This is just a consultation. Just to confirm your pregnancy and talk about your options.

Yet, here you are, stuttering your way through your medical history.

“Have you ever been pregnant before?” The nurse asks. You shake your head quickly.

“N-No.”

She’s nice, and friendly. She makes it as easy as it can be. But it’s still not easy. The consultation takes just over an hour. Jake sits and plays on his phone until the battery is almost dead.

He flinches as the car door opens, dropping his phone, losing his chance at beating his high score. He tilts his head, craning forwards to see your face as you slip into the passenger seat.

“So?” Jake prods. He sits up a little straighter and half turns to face you. “How did it go?”

“I’m definitely pregnant.” You breathe out. You rub your temples. Jake nods, he has already come to terms with this much. You bite your cheek, tapping your foot nervously.

He waits.

“I think I want to keep it.” You admit.

Jake claps his hands together. You look up and he’s smiling. Mostly so that he doesn’t freak out and scare you into changing your mind.

“Holy shit.” He breathes out. You truly can’t tell if he’s wincing or grinning but he sounds excited. “I’m going to be an uncle!”

He leans across the console and hugs you tight. You sigh softly, squeezing him. You don’t know what you would do without him.

“Holy shit,” This time he says it more quietly as he pulls back to look at you. “You’re going to be a mom.”

You will yourself not to start crying again.

“You’re going to have to let the dad know. Common courtesy to send a text if you’re bringing someone’s child into the world, I think.” Jake decides as he turns his attention to the road and pulls out of his parking space.

You sit back in the seat and realise you don’t even have Bradley’s number. You’re going to have his baby and you don’t have his phone number. Instagram.

You tilt your phone away from Jake and search. You have plenty of mutuals, including your older brother. You find him easily.

He’s not on private. It’s mostly pictures of game days, parties, pictures with his friends. Frat boy stuff. He has a story. You feel weird for a second about watching it — since you don’t follow him. You figure you’re probably past worrying about creeping him out by now.

You click on it. 3m ago. You recognise the view in the picture.

“Could you drop me off at the library?” You blurt out. Jake glances across at you and frowns.

“Our library? Like UVA’s library?” Jake asks.

“Yeah.” You don’t have an excuse yet. You squint. Jake watches you try to think of something, while he tries to maintain and eye on the road.

“Does he go to my school? — Do I know him?” Shit, he’s so on to you. You debate telling him now. He’ll have to find out one day.

“No, you don’t know him.” You lie. You hope he can’t tell. You remember the guy who wouldn’t leave you alone at the Halloween party, before Bradley. You know Jake saw you talking to him earlier in the night. “It was at your Halloween party. The tall guy. From the other frat.”

Jake’s jaw hangs open, “That guy?”

He makes a displeased face. You wince. This is going to be so much worse if he finds out the truth.

“My niece or nephew is going to be 50% that guy?” Jake complains. Your brows furrow. That’s what he’s worried about right now?

“Just — library. Please.” You sigh.

Jake doesn’t argue with you. He does, however, keep looking across at you and wondering what he did wrong in teaching you about guys for you to choose to reproduce with that guy.

“Should I come in with you?” Jake asks. You scoff, already half way out of the passenger side by the time he has put the handbrake on.

“No! I’ll walk back to your place. I’ll see you later!” You can’t risk him seeing you with Bradley. Especially not if this goes as badly as you’re expecting it to, you don’t want Jake trying to kill him in the history section.

You jog up the first three flights of stairs, then realise that you should make the most of being able to jog while you still can. In a couple of months, you’ll be waddling.

You’re having a crisis about that when you catch a glimpse of him. You crane your neck. He’s sitting at one of the desks, but his chair is pushed back really far. You lean forwards for a better look, craning your neck further.

Then you realise why his chair is pushed so far back. There’s a girl standing between his knees. He’s smiling at her, they’re talking about something you can’t hear.

No wonder he’s in the library all the time if this is what he calls studying. You debate just walking back down the stairs and leaving. Then, the girl smiles and turns away, nodding.

You wait for her to leave before you step out from behind the column and start towards him. Bradley’s already looking back down at his notes. He doesn’t notice you until you’re standing beside his desk.

He looks up and frowns immediately.

“Hi.” You say softly.

“Hey.” Bradley answers, confused and clearly not thrilled to see you. “How’s it going?”

“Can I talk to you about that, actually?” You push your hands into your pockets. Bradley glances around, half expecting Jake to rush him at any second.

“Well, um, I’m kinda busy, so…”

You bite your cheek and nod your head. So busy flirting with that pretty girl. “This’ll just take a sec. I promise.”

Bradley taps his pencil impatiently on his notebook and motions for you to sit down. “Alright. Shoot.”

You sit on the edge of the desk in front of him. You need to be close enough so that he can hear you without you having to raise your voice.

“You remember Halloween?”

“Vaguely.” He answers dully. You squint. His tone would suggest that he’s already mad at you — what does he have to be mad about?

“Okay, well,” You shake your head, trying to find the words to say. “Do you remember the conversation we had, right before, about the…”

You glance around and lower your voice to a whisper, “Condom?”

Bradley scrunches his brows closer together.

“Shit, careful.” You scolded, pushing yourself up onto your elbows and grabbing the foil package out of his hands. Bradley frowned, not understanding the issue.

The issue, being that he was trying to open the condom like a caveman and the latex just made a snapping sound. You inspect it. Bradley leans forwards and drops his mouth down to your neck, peppering kisses along your jaw, your throat, down onto your collarbones.

“It’s fine.” He says softly, reaching between the two of you and taking it from your hands. You close your eyes and hum softly as his mouth works at your neck. You nod your head.

Bradley squints.

“Well, I’m — fuck, this is scary.” You breathe out. “I’m pregnant. It’s yours.”

He stares at you. For too long.

He raises his eyebrows and looks around him. You’re confused.

“This is a joke, right?” He checks, still looking around him. “What, did Jake make you do it to fuck with me?”

Jake knows how weird Bradley is with family stuff. Bradley’s the only person who stays at the house during Christmases. He doesn’t ever talk about back home. Jake’s never heard him talk about anything to do with his future other than flight school.

“No, I’m serious,” You answer him sheepishly, fiddling with your hands. “I just got back from the doctor.”

You reach into your bag and pull out your paperwork copy, setting it down on the desk in front of him. He sits forward and looks down at the page. There’s today’s date. There’s your name. There it is. Pregnant. Approx six weeks.

He sits back again and goes back to staring at you. He scoffs. Shakes his head. Then laughs. You frown slightly. He laughs in your face.

“Look,” He leans forwards slightly and looks around, “I have no idea what you’re trying to pull right now — but whatever it is, I’m not interested. I’m not having a kid.”

You swallow, willing yourself not to cry. This bundle of nerves needs to stop playing with your emotions. You refuse to let him see you cry.

Bradley stares at you. His expression is cold.

“Figure your shit out,” He says softly, his tone deadly serious, “And leave me out of it.”

“B-But-“

“I’m done talking.” Bradley interrupts. He looks back down at his work. You push yourself up, grab your bag and take the paperwork back. You wonder if he’s as emotional as this kid seems to be because you’re just about to choke up.

He glances up at you. It’s clear in his expression that he finds you pathetic right now.

You swallow the lump in your throat and stand upright.

“I’m keeping it.” You say softly. You turn away before you start bawling in front of him. Bradley watches you head for the elevator, his gaze burning into your back.

He squeezes the pencil in his hand, biting the inside of his cheek. He sits there, seething, until the pencil gives under the pressure, wood splintering out onto the desk.

You walk all the way back to Jake’s place holding in tears. Your eyes burn from blinking them back. Your throat’s sore from trying not to sob.

Jake’s on the couch as you get inside. He turns and looks at you. Just one look at the look on your face and he knows that he’s got an ass to beat. You start crying, knowing that he can tell you just got your feelings hurt.

Jake’s getting used to the tears now, they don’t phase him as much as they did when he first found out. You’re glad, because you hate being fussed.

“Stay here,” Jake stands up and hops over the back of the couch. “I’ll handle this. Is he still there?”

You sniffle and grab his shirt, shaking your head, “Don’t. It’ll make it worse.” Plus, you can’t exactly let Jake go and beat up the wrong guy. You have half a mind to just tell Jake the truth, let Bradley suffer the consequences.

But you would have to suffer them too.

“He was such a dick.” You whimper softly. Jake sighs and hugs you gently. “He wants nothing to do with me, and- and-“

You whimper, trying not to break down completely.

“Let me kick his ass.” He responds. You smile, sniffling against his shoulder. You shake your head at him and wipe your eyes.

“Could you just drive me home please?” You say softly.

“You sure? You could stay here? — I’ll stay in Bradley’s room with him.” Jake notices the way your face hardens when he mentions Bradley, but let’s it go. It’s been a long day and he doesn’t have time to worry about the fact you find one of his friends hot.

“I need to be alone for a bit.” You breathe. Jake nods. He’s pretty sure he would be freaking out even more than you are right now. So, like a good big brother, he drives you home and makes sure you’re settled in and safe — he tells you that he’s always going to be here for you and tadpole, no matter what.

Then, on the drive home, he calls Bradley to tell him to grab some shoes because they have an ass to beat. It goes straight to voicemail. Jake figures he’s at the gym, he’ll catch him at home.

Then, when Jake makes it home, Bradley’s still not there. He considers rallying the other guys, but they always cause too much of a scene. Jake just needs someone to watch his back whilst he goes and explains to this kid that he needs to grow a pair and step up.

Jake tries Bradley’s number again. Voicemail. He shakes his head and walks up to his room. He waits, tossing a ball at the ceiling and catching it. His door is open so that he can see when Bradley arrives.

Jake heard him before he sees him. The front door slams. Heavy footsteps in the hall, on the stairs. Jake sits up, brows furrowed as he watches Bradley. Face stern, stomping towards his room.

“Hey, where’ve you been? — I tried calling you like—“

“Library.” Bradley answers, he shoves open the door to his room without looking at Jake. He can’t stand seeing that smug fucking smile.

“Oh, okay.” Jake answers, still confused about who pissed in his cornflakes. Bradley’s door slams behind him. Jake rolls his eyes. He lays back down and grabs his ball. He toys with it between his fingertips.

It hits him like a tonne of bricks. He shoots upright and looks across the hall at Bradley’s door.

…

Tag List:

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@chaoticweirdogeek

@alanadetigy

@itsmytimetoodream

@oldnatgwenaccount

@khaylin27

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@mizzzpink

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[randomshyperson]

New Romantics - Chapter Four - Wanda Maximoff Series

Summary: Trapped in a loveless relationship that has cost her friendships, Wanda watches her senior year of school turn upside down after a party. She will make new friends and may end up learning that not every relationship is doomed to failure.

Warnings: (+16), straight and toxic relationships, making out, underage drinking, language, co-dependency, conversations about insecurity and self-worth, attempted romantic comedy, unrequited love at first, friends to lovers. | Words: 6.843k

Skamverse Collection | Series Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad |

--//--

Chapter Four - About Lunches, Equations, and True Feelings

Downtown, Sunday 10:25 am

America Chavez's smiling face greeted you as soon as you stumbled into the kitchen.

"Good morning?" Your response was confused, but soon you yawned, and pushed sleep away, your brain slowly waking up. Neither America nor the girls drinking coffee cared much, knowing you were slow in the morning. Nat smiled, handing you a mug of coffee she just poured before grabbing another for herself. 

"America ran out of eggs. And bacon, and coffee." Yelena teased, messing up the girl's hair beside her. You chuckled, scratching your eyes.

"Children aren't allowed to drink coffee." You commented, earning a roll of the eyes from the smaller girl.

"I'm already 14!" She defended herself, making you all laugh. You imitated Yelena's gesture, before going to the fridge to get some jam. 

Breakfast was quiet for a few minutes. Yelena left first, saying that she was going to her girlfriend's house, and when you finished commenting about going to the capital to buy paint, America asked to come with you.

You raise an eyebrow at her. "It's kind of boring, kiddo, I'll spend some time picking out the right color."

She shrugged. "Please, I don't mind." She commented. "Kamala went to the mosque and Bruno has today's shift. I'm so bored. Please? We can go to the city park afterward too."

You chuckled, exchanging a quick glance with Natasha who was practically begging you to accept. Not that you had the heart not to do it anyway. You both knew that alone at home, America missed her mothers more and had a tendency to get into trouble.

"Okay, kiddo, I'll take you." You say, receiving the girl's celebration with a smile. "But you promise to behave, okay?"

"Scout's Promise!" She assures by raising her fingers at chest height. Natasha laughs.

"You were never a Girl Scout, Chavez." She retorts, but America shrugs her shoulders.

"Irrelevant." She mutters, making you laugh. 

Many minutes later, when you have finished the coffee dishes, and have taken a quick shower to accompany America downtown, Natasha brings a small shopping list and some notes for you. 

"Will you get those things for me, please?" She asks, and you read the list quickly, smiling at the extra amount of macaroni.

"Of course, Nat. Doesn't Yelena want anything?"

"I'll text you if she says something." Assures the redhead and you nod, offering a wink in farewell before grabbing a jeans jacket hanging next to the door and heading out.

Novi Grad, Sunday 11:15 am

The shopping cart America was pushing was partially full, and she was trying to balance on the wheels while you sorted potatoes and tried to remember Natasha's list mentally.

Finishing with the potatoes, you put them in the cart and were going after the macaroni when someone called your name - a voice that warmed your cheeks all at once.

"Wanda, hi." You greeted in surprise, a little more shy than usual at seeing the girl so casual and comfortable in a place other than school or a party. Wanda just smiled, shifting the weight of her feet.

"Hi, Y/N. Cool to bump into you. How are you doing?"

But you didn't get a chance to mumble more than 'Good'; America gave you a gentle nudge, looking at the brunette curiously.

"Sorry, this is my neighbor, America-"

"Hey, it's the girl from your painting, Y/N! Wow, she's even prettier in person." Declared the teenager genuinely excited.

You didn't know whether to kill America or dig a hole in the ground. 

Wanda laughed confused. "Painting?" She retorted, raising a provocative eyebrow at you.

With your face burning, you scratched at the back of your neck. "It's no big deal. I just paint sometimes. You know, whatever I think is pretty..." You murmur, and Wanda gives a shy little laugh, looking at you in a way that doesn't help the butterflies in your stomach calm down. "I could show you sometime if you want."

"I'd love to." She grins and looks as if she wants to say something more, but an older man approaches, and his elegant coat makes you tuck in your worn jacket slightly. But his gaze is as gentle as Wanda's.

"Honey, I picked up the cheese for the Käsespätzle." He says placing the item in their cart before smiling at you and America. "Hi. Are you friends of Wanda's from school?"

"Yes, papa. That's Y/N, from my literature class. And her neighbor, America." Wanda introduces you both, and you nod half-heartedly at meeting Wanda's father so suddenly.

"It's a pleasure, I'm Erik." He greets. "I try to meet all my kids' friends, you two must be new. Maybe we could have lunch like today with them sometime, darling."

Wanda looks a little uncomfortable suddenly - She notices the way curiosity grows on your face. Lunch with whom?

"Sure, papa, I'll take care of it. Have you got everything? Can you wait in line for me?" 

Erik doesn't insist, taking his daughter's hint, and waves goodbye. You clear your throat, ready to say goodbye, but Wanda is clarifying with a look studying your face.

"Vision is meeting dad today." She says and you force a smile, it's almost painful, so you look away to the floor. 

"Cool." You mumble. "Well, I shouldn't keep you, right? I hope everything works out at lunch, Wanda. See you at school."

You've already turned and pushed the cart away when she mutters back, waving to the confused America who hurriedly follows you.

"What is Vision? Some kind of slang between you guys?" America asks as soon as you are alone, and you giggle helplessly despite the bitter feeling in your chest.

"It's her boyfriend."

The girl grimaces. "You like a girl who has a boyfriend?"

It's your turn to frown. "What? Who says I like her?"

"Your face." 

You look away indignantly. "I don't know what you're talking about." You mutter stubbornly. "Besides, how did you know about the painting? Are you snooping around my gallery again?"

America rolls her eyes. "No, snooping is a strong word. I had a look while you were in the shower. Nat said you wouldn't mind."

"I don't, but you also didn't have to tell Wanda that I had been painting her." You insist embarrassed, and America giggles.

"Sorry I snitched on you, stalker." She teases, quickly escaping the pinch you try to give her ribs with a giggle. "Don't get so grumpy, she seemed to like hearing that you paint her. It's like Jack and Rose from Titanic, right?"

You laugh, rolling your eyes. "How do you even know that reference,  you weren't even a fetus when that movie came out."

"Shut up." America retorted laughing, walking you to the macaroon aisle.

Downtown, Sunday 14:21 am

Your morning with America was almost pleasant enough for you to forget the encounter with Wanda. Almost.

As soon as the smaller girl left your apartment after lunch for how she so politely invited herself - you and Nat didn't mind - your friend took advantage of the moment you were in the living room tidying up some of the mess to comment on how strangely down you'd been since returning from the market.

"What's got you so glum, lyubimyy?" Nat asked gathering some magazines to help you. You smile at the nickname.

"Let me think about this one, does it mean... beloved?" You try, but she shakes her head.

"Almost. It means 'Darling' as love one because sometimes you forget how loved you are."

You blush. "Wow, aren't you so sweet today, huh? Come here, Nat." You hug her quickly, making her laugh. You kiss the top of her head before pulling away, but she holds your forearm, looking at you curiously.

"So? What happened?"

You sigh. "I bumped into Wanda at the market."

Nat frowns softly in confusion. "And that's a bad thing?"

You give a sad smile. "Not usually, I adore her. But she told me her boyfriend is meeting her dad today, and I know it's silly to be upset about that when we've never been anything more than friends but that's how I felt immediately upon hearing it. I don't know, maybe this idea of being friends with her was stupid. I'm definitely catching feelings, and worst of all, for a girl who's already taken."

Natasha twitches her nose. "I'm sorry, but I...okay, I'll be honest with you. I think she has to break up with that jerk. And give you a chance."

You chuckle weakly, shrugging. "I try not to get my hopes up, or it'll hurt more." You mutter, turning away to go back to tidying up the room.

Nat hesitates for a moment, and then comments, "I have a little mischief to confess." She says, and you look at her with confusion. "At the game on Friday. I may have made it sound like I had no idea how you managed to convince Jean to split the sales with us."

You chuckle confusedly. "But you know, she needed help with the artwork for the mid-year party..."

"Yeah, but Wanda didn't know I knew that." Natasha continues shifting the weight of her feet. "And when I suggested that maybe something was going on between you and Jean, she seemed pretty bothered."

You gasp nervously. "What? Nat, no!" you exclaim, but the redhead twiddles her fingers anxiously.

"Sorry, but I wanted to confirm if she likes you, and I really think she does, Y/N! Not considering the lovesick puppy-dog looks, she was quite uncomfortable at the mention of Jean-"

"It's not about me!" You quickly clarify. "They have some kind of feud, Nat. I don't know what happened. When I first met Wanda, Jean was treating her badly. And now you've made it seem like I don't care about that, which isn't true."

"Oh, I didn't know..."

"Yeah, I know." You sigh in defeat and annoyance, tossing your hair back. 

Nat takes a hesitant step in front of you. "Hey, Y/N, sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay, you didn't know. I just need a moment, okay? And please stop meddling. I'll handle this on my own." You tell her, not meeting her gaze before marching out of the room.

Novi Grad, Monday 08:45 am

“The Politics Club invites you all to the Debate Contest in the auditorium at 3:30 pm”

You lay your head on the open Geography book with the announcement of your classmate Tony Stark, so often confident about the smallest things. He had a gold brooch with the club symbol on his backpack, and although he was in your class, he didn't stay in the room. He was responsible for announcing the invitation to all the others classes and left right away.

The professor went back to the lesson, but you were strangely bitter today. Everything seemed to remind you of Wanda and her stupid boyfriend. The golden boy from the political club, with his golden brooch and his bank account full of dollars.

Vision walked past you with a group of friends in the hallway, one of them so rudely bumped into your shoulder, muttering an apology with more contempt than anything else. You didn't mind, moving on to your next class with a tired sigh. Just a few more hours and you would be back home.

Whatever idiotic debate the staff would be having today was not in your interest at all. But Wanda sent you a meme - Casual cell phone conversations between you have become more common and frequent since the H incent - and then commented that she wish she had an excuse to skip the debate.

You stupidly offered to keep her company.

"Please kill me." That's what you said to Natasha as soon as you found her in the Chemistry lab. The redhead laughed confused.

"What did you do?" and when you told her, she laughed again, but hugged you, stroking your hair. "My poor friend, a complete gay disaster."

You chuckled weakly, wishing you could run away from school. The chemistry teacher walked in next, and you had to split up. You didn't absorb much of the lesson because you were wondering how to make things not awkward with Wanda in the auditorium watching her boyfriend.

Novi Grad, Monday 03:35 pm

The auditorium was not at all full - the School shared your lack of interest in the Politics club - and this unfortunately made it possible for you to see Wanda and Vision clearly. The way he grabbed her waist, practically kissing her by force, and how the girl almost shoved his shoulders before giving in.

Your stomach dropped, and you wanted to leave the auditorium, but as fast as the moment happened, it ended. Wanda retorted something almost angry to her boyfriend - you could tell by her expression - and turned away, her face lighting up the moment she met your gaze. She waved, and you forced a smile, nodding your head to the seat you were going to take in the last row. 

She didn't even say goodbye to Vision before she started walking toward you.

The debate looked like it was going to start soon; the crowd was getting organized. You were busier greeting the girl who came to sit next to you.

"Thank you so much for being here, I don't think I could have handled this alone." She says, looking at you in such a grateful and tender way that you can only shyly chuckle.

"Debates can't be that bad, right? Worst case scenario, we'll sneak out." You tell her, making her smile.

In fact, debates could be very tedious. The topic was interesting, but the kids were annoyingly arrogant.

Wanda managed to make you laugh with a few sarcastic jokes whispered, but you were too nervous about the proximity to really relax.

When it was Vision's turn to participate, the girl next to you became strangely tense and impatient. The jokes stopped, but her indignant sighs did not.

You absorbed little of the speeches, but the bit you picked up surprised you.

"I didn't know Vision was so... progressive." You mutter half uncertainly, stealing glances at the girl next to you. "You don't agree with him?"

She chuckled wryly, her attention on the stage. "I agree with the speech, but not with him." She says, looking at you then. "Vision is nothing like what he gives speeches about. He's just a great politician. He has learned to say exactly what Professor T'Challa wants to hear, or what the audience wants. He always gets the best grades, does the best papers, not because he believes what he's saying, but because he's saying what those who are evaluating him do."

You look at the panel of jurors, all gleaming-eyed and nodding in agreement to the short progressive, anti-capitalist monologues of the tall kid who has on a pair of fancy clothes that must cost more than six months of your rent. 

"That's kind of sick, don't you think?" You let it slip, and immediately regret it as you remember who you are talking about. And when Wanda looks away, you quickly mutter, "Sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

She chuckles weakly. "You shouldn't apologize for what you think or feel. Isn't that what you say?" she teases, looking at you. 

"Yeah, we can always be honest with each other." You retort, returning the intense look she is offering you.

Maybe it's the darkness of the last row or your artistic inclination, but you could paint Wanda right now - how absurdly beautiful she looks, the way the green of her pupils darkens as she stares at you, how she seems to lean-

Wait what?

You pull back, clearing your throat and shaking your head, aware of the burning in your cheeks. The auditorium light was turned on again, which snapped you back to sanity and made you pull away. Wanda sighs deeply beside you, closing her eyes for a moment and you don't have the courage to look at her.

"I have to..." She mutters half hoarsely, about the end of the event and how Vision is coming down from the stage being congratulated and probably wishes his girlfriend was one of those people.

You nod, swallowing dryly. And you risk looking into her eyes again. She hesitates before bringing a hand to your cheek, and just like Friday, she reaches up and kisses your skin, this time too close to your mouth, enough for your breath to catch.

Your hand squeezes the hold of the chair firmly, and your eyes close instinctively, and you use all the control in your body not to turn your face to her and end this urge all at once. 

It all lasts less than two seconds, yet even when you have left the auditorium, you can still feel Wanda's lips on your skin, her floral scent or her hand on your cheek, or hear her 'thank you for being here' hoarse and affected in your ear.

You can't tell if you enjoyed the debate, but it sure meant something for both of you.

Novi Grad, Tuesday 10:28 am

The classroom was quite hectic with the delivery of the revised assignments, and Frigga had a good time with the jokes and begging about a higher grade from some pairs.

The paper with the A+ drawn at the top made you and Wanda exchange smiles. Wanda let no reaction show for you having adjusted closer, one arm behind her chair as you teased:

"Looks like we make quite a pair." You were smiling and also didn't let on how much your heart had sped up when she chuckled in return, turning her face toward you and increasing the closeness even more.

"Looks like it." She retorted. "Any chance you could be my double in all subjects? I'm in need of some A's." 

It was a joke, but you really loved the suggestion. Your expression was one of a new idea and Wanda smiled curiously. "How about you come over to the house and study?"

Terrible idea, honestly. Especially since if Frigga hadn't interrupted the moment by asking the class for silence, you're fairly certain you would have leaned over and kissed Wanda and her pretty face. The chances of you not trying to do that alone with her in your room were almost non-existent.

But as soon as Frigga was distracted again, she smiled at you.

"I love the idea, how about today after school? If you can of course." Wanda asked lowly, a shy smile playing on her lips.

You figured telling her you were available for her any time of the day was going to sound pretty desperate, so you just mumbled that it sounded perfect. You two did a poor job of hiding your excitement for the rest of the day. Which it was exactly why Natasha, Yelena, Kate, and Carol invited themselves to the study session after neither you nor Wanda shut up about it.

Downtown, Tuesday 03:45 pm

You entered your apartment last, giggling about some Danvers joke and struggling to get your jackets and shoes off in the tight space in the doorway with all the girls.

If you had a mini seizure when Wanda put a hand on your waist when she lost her balance trying to take off her boots, you didn't show anything so that the other girls wouldn't notice.

The afternoon passed very pleasantly between you all. You sat down at the kitchen table before giving up because of the cramped space and you and Nat pushed the sofas aside so that you could all sit on cushions on the floor, books, and notebooks scattered around.

The girls seemed to be doing well in their study session, but you noticed Wanda scribbling down other questions for the tenth time in less than five minutes. Natasha noticed it too, but it was because she was checking how you both tried to pretend you weren't more focused on each other than on the homework.

"Everything okay there Maximoff?" Asked the redhead before you had the courage. Wanda sighed in defeat.

"Nie (no), I suck at physics." She mutters looking down. Natasha smiles.

"Well, lucky for you I don't." She jokes, pulling out Wanda's notebook to take a look at the exercises. You offer the brunette a quick look of reassurance, and after Nat murmurs to herself for a few minutes, she hands the notebook back to the smaller girl. "See, you're switching the order of the equation. I wrote it up here for you to remember, but you'll need to memorize it for the tests."

Wanda gives a sad laugh. "Thanks, but I doubt I'll remember that many numbers and letters together."

Natasha assumes a thoughtful expression, but it is you who speaks first. "Wanda, tell me something you like."

She chuckles confusedly, but replies, " Hmm… Poetry?"

You smile, tilting your head. "Lovely, but I can't work with this one. Tell me something about music."

She twitches her nose in a cute, pensive way for a few moments. "I like a little bit of everything, but I listen to rock and metal most often. I really like Acid rock to relax, and I learned to play bass just to be able to perform like it."

You let out an excited exclamation. "Now that's good news!" You declare standing up. Natasha, who already understands your idea, giggles at the confusion and curiosity of the others. You leave the room and return with Yelena's guitar, who lets out a soft complaint. "Don't be selfish, Belova, I borrowed it for a good cause. Let's help Wanda study."

"I don't get it." Kate comments, and you approach Maximoff to hand her the guitar. 

"It's pretty simple." You say. "Wanda, you can play it right? You just need to find a melody and memorize the equations as if they were notes or song lyrics. Let's try."

It took at least forty minutes to come up with something really innovative, but it was working. 

Wanda managed to finish a whole page of exercises without consulting, just by muttering the melody to herself. You didn't leave her side, and nobody commented on the exchange of smiles every time she got something right, or when you switched the topic and she kissed your cheek in thanks for the idea.

Downtown, Tuesday 06:10 pm

After studying for so long, Kate and Yelena simply put down their books and stood up hand in hand with the sincere justification of "we're gonna make out" that made Natasha throw a pillow in her sister's face, and you, Wanda, and Carol burst out laughing.

But the study session didn't last long after this. Carol grew bored, insisting that she was starving, and you and Wanda were quite distracted by the proximity. 

Natasha had a teasing little smile when she declared that she was going to get some beers and hamburgers to eat. Carol's celebration turned into a confused exclamation when she was pulled by the hand.

"Do you think I'm your maid, Danvers? I'm going to buy your food, the least you should do is drive me there."

"But they will also eat..." The blonde tried, but Nat ignored her completely, pushing her out of the room.

Alone with Wanda, you almost hyperventilated at the way she used the excuse that she was adjusting herself on the rug to rest her hand on your thigh.

You gasped with fright, and jumped away, startling the girl slightly. But you just offered her a half-hearted laugh, grabbing the guitar.

"I-I should give this back to Lena. Before I scratch it." You declared, running away before Wanda had a chance to remind you what Yelena was doing in her room.

You walked in without knocking - Mistake number one. 

You walked in with your eyes open - Mistake number two.

Kate closed her legs so hard she nearly broke her girlfriend's neck - You stumbled backward in horror, covering your face with your hands and dropping your guitar on your own foot, which hurt you as hell before it bounced and fell to the floor.

Your apology turned into a grunt of pain, and you limped out of the room while Yelena complained about privacy and the instrument.

Wanda stood up in confusion and was pressing her lips together to keep from bursting into laughter.

You sat down in the first armchair you could reach, massaging your thumb with a crying face. "I need an ambulance." You dramatized, and Wanda started laughing.

Yelena left the room angrily half a minute later, her hair messed up and her clothes too. She raised her guitar in the air at you.

"Look what you've done! I told you to be careful, Y/N!" She accused over the scratch marks in the paint from the fall. 

"Yelena I am dying, look how red my finger is."

"I don't care about your foot! You know it was my father who sent this guitar from Russia to me, it's autographed by Don McLean and now it's scratched and-"

"I can fix it." Wanda steps forward, twiddling her fingers. "Pietro used to scratch my instruments all the time. If you have the tools, maybe some paint, I can help."

"Oh, I must have something like that in the studio." You mutter giving your thumb one last squeeze. Yelena hesitates, but then sighs, handing the guitar to Wanda before turning her face to you and pointing a finger in warning.

"Next time, knock on the door, suka." She retorts before making her way to her bedroom.

You and Wanda exchange small giggles when you are alone again. 

Downtown, Tuesday 06:55 pm

Wanda sat for a good few minutes at the wooden table, working on repairing Yelena's guitar with the tools you got for her. You had the paints, but you had to go to America to borrow the small tools, and she also didn't miss the opportunity to tease you about the 'pretty girl from the supermarket who had a ‘boyfriend'. You threatened to call her mothers.

Your only distraction for the next few minutes was drawing. You brought out your notebook with the excuse that you were going to continue studying, but having Wanda in your studio, working with her hands drew your attention completely. Your history notebook now had three pages filled with doodles of the girl in front of you.

When she began to play, you knew she was done.

"Do you have any requests?" She asked with her back to you, sitting in her chair. You smiled, readying your pencil as she adjusted herself to be with her body facing your direction. 

"Assuming your song repertoire consists almost one hundred percent of Evanescence, I'd say play something that makes you happy." Your teasingly affectionate response makes her laugh. She tests a few notes, thoughtful for a moment.

"Actually, whenever I need to cheer myself up a bit, I listen to something quite different." She murmurs, and you raise a curious eyebrow.

"Oh, really? Surprise me, Maximoff."

She chuckles and adjusts herself. You had some expectations, but you didn't anticipate Justin Bieber. You start laughing immediately, and Wanda has a hard time controlling her own laughter and keeps singing 'Baby'.

"Stop it, you're distracting me." She retorts between giggles, trying to continue the notes.

You laugh. "God, Wanda, that's so cheesy, I love it." You say, catching the way her cheeks blush. 

She finishes 'Baby' and also plays a bit of 'As Long as you Love Me', the last of which she struggles a bit to remember the notes correctly.

Meanwhile, you draw her. Discourteously, so Wanda blames you for the difficulty in playing with the attention. When you have a decent doodle of the figure with the guitar and you are finishing the rings, she stops playing.

"Can I see it?" She asks, and you smile.

"Sure, want to switch?" You retort about the guitar, and she laughs lightly.

"Can you play?" 

You shrug. "Not as well as you, I'm afraid. And most of the songs I know are Brazilian, but I think I can do a decent job with Jason Mraz." You reply, leaning over to hand her the notebook and pick up the guitar. Wanda smiles.

"Play me something Brazilian."

You hold up the guitar, a smile playing on your lips. "But you don't speak Portuguese."

"It doesn't matter. I just like your voice."

You chuckle shyly, sliding your fingers over the strings. "That's because you haven't heard me sing yet." You joke, making her giggle.

Wanda pays close attention to the beginning of the notes but has no idea what you are singing. You let the words of 'Dengo' by a singing duo slide off your tongue, carrying their meaning in your heart even though the girl in front of you didn't know it.

In the second verse, Wanda diverts her attention to the notebook in her hands because you are looking at the guitar, trying not to miss the notes. You smile as you turn your attention back to her, still singing quietly while she looks at the drawings.

You change the song next, and were halfway through 'Idiota' by Jão when Wanda interrupts you.

"My rings were the only things you painted with the pencil." She comments, sliding her finger across one of the drawings. You finish a note and she lifts her face to you, a small smile on her lips. "You like them?"

You smile back, nodding your head. "They're pretty, and you wear them all the time. It's hard not to pay special attention to it."

She looks at you in an intense way, before turning her attention back to the notebook, but it's only to close it and put it back on the table. "You can have one." She declares, getting up and you look at her in surprise.

"You don't have to, Wanda, they're yours..."

"Don't be silly, I want you to have it." She insists, standing in front of you. "Choose the one you like best." She asks, extending her hands at guitar height.

You don't think much about it, a little nervous at the sudden closeness, and end up choosing a yellow one. She gives a mischievous giggle. "What is it? Did I make the wrong choice?"

She smiles, denying with her head and retracting her hands to remove the ring. "I got those six in a witch's tent."

You raise your eyebrow. "A real one?

She laughs. "That I can neither affirm nor deny." She teases, sliding the yellow-looking ring out. "But she told me that each stone is an aspect of existence."

"What a philosophical witch." You half-heartedly joke, trying not to focus so much on the girl's gesture. Wanda laughs. "What does the golden one represent?

"The mind." She retorts. "And I find it a coincidence since you are helping me study and are my partner in literature."

You smile, nodding in agreement. You extend your hand but Wanda holds it out instead of handing over the ring.

"May I?" She asks in a whisper about putting the ring on, and you swallow dryly before agreeing, feeling your face burn over her gaze and with each movement. Once the ring is secure on your finger, she has a mischievous smile on her lips. "Does that mean you accept marrying me?" 

It is clearly a joke, but it makes you look at her in such an adoring way that Wanda wishes she had said it for real. 

You give her an affected laugh. "You have to take me on a date first." 

Wanda pant softly, and is leaning in before you can think about it. You startle, and your free hand tightens on the strings, the sound breaking her trance and making her come to her senses. Her forehead falls on yours, and she takes a deep breath before pulling away.

"I should go, it’s late." She declares taking steps away. You swallow dryly, placing the guitar on the couch and getting up as well.

"Wanda, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

She shakes her head, hugging her body and moving further away. But at that, she catches a glimpse of the half-hidden painting across the room. Your apology is interrupted by her surprised exclamation, and she is stepping away to see the painting up close.

"Is that...?" She doesn't need verbal confirmation. She pulls the cloth covering the painting and exposes the finished painting to the gallery. You hesitate, cringing in anticipation of the evaluation. "Y/N, that looks lovely."

You laugh shyly. "Thank you, Wanda." But she doesn't look at you, her gaze focused on the painting.

"You paint me like... I'm beautiful."

With a confused laugh, you retort, "You are beautiful."

But she shakes her head. "I mean... with love. You paint me as you look at me-"

"Wanda." You interrupt with hesitation, heart racing.

But she turns to you tears in her eyes, and you swallow dry. She smiles, "You paint me as someone in love. It's as if I can feel your adoration in every brushstroke."

It is your turn to embrace your own body, trying to hide your own vulnerability. Wanda steps forward, excited, but you step back. 

"Don't mock me." You say, and she frowns.

"I wasn't." She assures you seriously. "I liked the painting, I liked it as much as I-"

"I'm not talking about the painting." You interrupt her upset. "Don't talk about my... feelings. Not when you still have a boyfriend."

Wanda gasps softly, her eyes wide in your direction. For a moment, she looks completely unresponsive at the return of this fact, but then you sidestep her to cover the frame and she reacts.

"Do you want me to leave him?" it is small, whispered more like a secret. You freeze before taking a deep breath.

"What the hell are you talking about, Wanda? Didn't you just have him introduce to your father the other day?"

She shakes her head. "He never showed up, made up some dumb excuse as usual. And I get the impression... well, I have no proof, but I think he's cheating on me. So, maybe, I just need a reason."

She invades your personal space, supplicant, but you gasp as you pull away again. "Jesus, Wanda, isn't all this enough of a reason for you?" you accuse worriedly, aware of the tears in both of your eyes. "I can't make that decision for you. I can't make any decision for you."

"Why not?" She retorts. "Vision does, and before him, Dad and Pietro." She confesses tearfully, reaching up again to grab the collar of your shirt. "Tell me to leave him. Tell me to be with you instead." She pleads, near your face.

"No." 

She sobs, not resisting the gentle tug you give her to let you go. But you sigh and bring your hands to her cheeks. "Don't be kind, I don't deserve it."

"Kindness is all you deserve, sweet girl." You insist, wiping away her tears. "But the decision of whom to love has to be entirely yours, Wanda. I'm sorry."

"I don't know how to leave him." She confesses tearfully, drawing the air from your lungs. "What I did to have him... I don't...it's not fair that it was for nothing. I don't know how-"

"Wanda, hey, breathe." You try to calm her, letting her cry against your neck as you stroke her hair. "It's okay, we'll figure it out together okay?"

"You don't understand." She mumbled between one sob and another, and you silenced her gently, holding her closer.

"It's okay, you can explain it to me." You murmur, and she hugs you tighter.

It took her a few more minutes to calm down, but once she did, you moved the guitar out of the way to sit with her on the couch, hand in hand.

"Talk to me." You asked gently, caressing her skin. Wanda swallowed dryly and didn't meet your gaze as she began to tell.

"My history with Vision doesn't even begin with him exactly. When my mother died, we moved in the middle of the year to Novi Grad. I was in fourth grade, and I didn't know anyone here, and I barely spoke English, since almost everyone speaks only Sokovian in the north. But when I started school, Jean Grey welcomed me into her group without hesitation. She was so nice. She used to come to my house every day after school to teach me how to speak English properly, and we grew so close that Dad once joked about adopting her." Wanda says with a sad laugh, "Then high school started, and our group of friends changed a bit. We still had Eve, and Anna, but some girls moved away. I met the Starks at our first party. Vision didn't even get to talk to me that first night, he was completely charmed by Eve. And I, well, I didn't mind just being his friend. But they started dating after that, and he became closer to us, started going to our parties, our houses." She continues, twiddling her fingers. "In the second year, we started meeting secretly."

Wanda searches your gaze with her confession, wanting to see your reaction to this but only finds curiosity about the story. The lack of judgment allows her to breathe lighter.

"Did you fall in love with him or was it just sex?" You find yourself asking, and she gives a sad laugh.

"I wouldn't have hurt Eve over sex." She assures you. "I fell in love with him, truly. He was my first love, and I thought if I didn't have him, it would be the end of the world. And when she found out, it really was." She retorts sniffling. "They all turned their backs on me, but Jean was the one who got the angriest. She attacked me about everything she did for me, and started making my life a living hell, tormenting me daily at school. Until things got physical in the yard and guidance needed to intervene."

"God, Wanda."

"It's okay, I didn't hold a grudge about it." She assures only worrying you more. "She was right to be angry, I fucked up. She left me alone after that, the school didn't, at least not for a few months. Then everyone moved on to the next rumor." She continues. "With the new year, I thought maybe Jean could put all that behind her too and forgive me. But you saw how she treated me when I tried to approach her at that party."

You let go of her hand, and Wanda feels her stomach sink. But all the color returns to her face when your hand comes up to caress her cheek. "You were what, Wanda? Fifteen years old? And Jean is acting like you murdered the pope. Stop defending the way she is treating you, that girl has some serious problem that has nothing to do with you. Same for your asshole boyfriend."

She breaks into a nasal laugh, leaning into your touch. "I shouldn't have cheated on my friends."

"You didn't." You insist. "You just fell in love, and you made a mistake. The only person who cheated was the one who was committed when he hooked up with you."

"B-but Vision-"

"I don't care what manipulation bullshit he told you." You interrupt seriously. "He definitely took advantage of your feelings, enjoying himself so he could have two girls and be able to brag to his friends. He's quite the type. You have to learn to forgive yourself for all of this."

Wanda sighs in some relief, moving closer to rest her forehead on yours. You smile, and instead of closing the distance, you widen it.

"I'm not going anywhere, you know. Neither are my feelings." You confess in a whisper. "I can wait until you put an end to the story with him, but I'll also still be here if you just want to put this behind the two of you and forgive him. I said your friendship was enough and I didn't lie about that."

She denies it with her head. "I don't want to be your friend." She assures in a whisper, her eyes darkening like in the auditorium that day. "I really want to kiss you."

She must be about to do it, really, with the way she sighs heavily against your lips, but someone clears their throat behind you, and you two break apart with a jump.

Yelena has a mischievous little smile on her lips, arms crossed. "God, karma works fast..." She teases, and you offer her an angry expression, grabbing one of the pillows to hit her while Wanda grunts in displeasure and hides her face between her hands. Yelena laughs as she deflects the item, running to grab the guitar from the couch. "Don't hate me, I knocked!"

"No, you didn't!"

"Just like you!" 

Wanda laughed as you ran out after Yelena in a rage.

[ashfae]

Sorry if this is a silly question. But I thought you're the person I should ask this to. I feel like, past the teenage and college ages, I don't ever see pictures or videos or stories about friend groups or couples doing the kind of unabashedly cute, dumb stuff together like you see with teenagers and stuff. Stuff like cuddling and holding hands +other physical contact (for friends) or all descending on a convenience store together or playing silly jokes on each other or doing something stupid with household objects because you want to see how it goes/why not. Do people stop doing that because of social norms or thinking it's embarrassing or weird? Or do they still do that?

(basically am I doomed to never have some experiences because I never dated and was a loser in high school)

Ohh anon, I am a good person to ask this to and have such a positive answer. Yes, people still do that. Not all of them but yes it's out there. Yes. Have some stories/favourite memories of mine: New Year's Eve. We were all twentysomethingish and doing a small silly party at a friend's house. Friend's roommate was off with his girlfriend (both also very good friends of ours). We decided to prank him. So when midnight hit that NYE we were at the grocery store (ahh, America, where nothing ever closes ever) buying a ton of post-it notes and sparkly markers and things. We wrote really random silly messages on them and hid them EVERYWHERE in his room. Evrywhere. Under the mattress. Inside his CD cases. Inside shirt pockets. Inside his CD-ROM drive. Geek quotes, compliments, random philisophical questions, whatever. He was still finding them a year later. (side note: on one note I thought I'd put a random Bible verse. Didn't look it up, just went "Uhhh, Revelations because it's weird, 4:6 because they're random numbers, why not." It ended up on the curtains facing the window. Person looked it up and the verse said "And before them stretched a great sea of glass." I don't think my subconscious knew that) Anyway. Emigrated to Scotland at 24 to go to grad school, leaving all my friends behind. Yeowtch. Made new friends. @amuseoffyre and @arianaderalte, with whom I stayed up all night watching anime and talking about completley ridiculous things. Ariana and I pranked each other by sneaking small chocolate bars in each others' backpacks now and then. Fyre would percolate ideas and history at us until we fell off our chairs laughing (Twenty years later on she still does this and I still love it). Ariana had a small Totoro named Sauron-chan, and once when he was left at my house I took him on An Adventure with tons of photos of his hijinks before returning him to her. Oh, and more. @mywingsareonwheels held a readthrough, inviting a bunch of their friends from around the country to come and sit in a circle in a room and read King Lear. I was Cordelia. (I eventually married the person who was cast as the Duke of Albany, incidently.) I remember our Fool singing some of his lines overdramatically to the tune of Once In Royal David's City. There were other things with that group as years went on, and then group holidays, renting a mansion in the Highlands for a week and doing plays, cooking a feast for each other, lying around with half of us drunk and the other half teetotal talking about whatever, playing board games, arguing about cheese. There was a swimming pool and one night I brought a bunch of balloons with LED lights in them and we swam in the dark by their light. Readthrough weekends where we did all the Shakespeare history plays in one long weekend, or all the Jane Austen audio plays. There's been schisms in the group but my god there's been fun too. Even during lockdown, @mywingsareonwheels organized readthroughs that we did over zoom, and every weekend we watch something.

Regarding my partner formerly the Duke of Albany....I hadn't ever dated much, to be honest. I was romantic and fell in smit every ten minutes but didn't want to do anything with sex unless it was with someone who actually had a romantic interest in me and vice-versa, which no one ever did, so...just didn't do much with any of it, to be honest. So I didn't have much experience. When we started dating I was 24. We had our first kiss in a frikking train station. (sorry, train people, but it was chaste). We held hands all over the city. We laughed. We kept turning to each other and saying "This is fun. Why did no one ever tell me this could be fun? I thought it was supposed to be all serious and intense and difficult, but this is easy!" And it was and it stayed fun. We got to do all the silly smitten things I'd never gotten to do as a teen/college student and assumed I just wouldn't experience ever. I realized I loved them and it was going to work when we were in a pub where it was too loud to talk and he invented finger breakdancing, which I don't think I can describe. We got married a year later which is how I ended up living here permanently. We're still silly at each other. It's still fun. I'm in my mid-40s now. I still have friends where I can headbutt their arm in frustration and they'll pet my hair, where I can make ridiculous faces at them, who don't mind that at the drop of a hat I will burst into song. Who will sing "Oh Hamster Tree" by Clive Barker with me in four-part harmony. Yes, yes to all of it, you can find people who will do that. And honestly, fandom's not a bad place to look for them. It's full of outsiders, and outsiders already know that they're not going to fit The Mold, and sometimes we just accept that and sometimes we embrace it and sometimes we celebrate it. Long story short: yes. Look for the people you can be silly with, and who will make it safe for you to be silly with them. They're out there and my god they're the best friends you will ever have.

As for the people who are too embarassed or wedded to social norms? For the former, encourage them to feel safe if you and they can. For the latter, leave them to it. The game they're trying to win is exhausting and impossible and you're better off out of it. Look for the ones who are kind and laugh a lot. Who encourage benevolent conspiracy rather than things that are 'funny' at someone else's expense. Who protect each others' weak points and respect your boundaries. It's not too late. Yes.

[tcookies777]

Life update - returning to college and how it feels as an older student

First off, for any new TAOL readers here, welcome! Thank you for your comments and for investing so much of your time in binging The Anatomy of Love. I just want to apologize again, to both older and newer readers, for my agonizingly slow comment moderation and my lack in replies. I'm not ignoring your comment out of maliciousness or anything like that - I just lack the time and mental energy but that is not to say I don't appreciate your support!

As many of you who've read my previous post and/or chapter ANs are aware of, I've returned to university to finish my 2nd degree. English/literature had always been a great passion of mine but not the most practical career path for me, so I had to quit it in my youth.

Years later, I'm finally pursuing my dream through the best english program my country has to offer and it is everything I could dream of. The academic quality is superb and every day I am working and studying myself to the bone, reading nearly a dozen books a week and typing papers until the words start swimming on the screen.

Among these joys lie the challenges as well. One being that I lean toward the older side of the demographics, which puts me in a minority as opposed to the many young and fresh-faced college students. I've made many friends and met many classmates who assume I am as young as them but their jaws drop when they realize my real age. There is certainly a discrepancy between us in terms of life experience and more, but it is also refreshing and often enlightening to hear perspectives and ideas from the young, creative minds of these trailblazers.

Being in different generations definitely feels weird at times, but what's truly strange - and even a little heartbreaking - is seeing all these young students strive so far and work so hard to the point that the competitiveness created becomes toxic and detrimental to their health.

I have a classmate who is taking 20 units worth of classes (when 12 is the average given how intense the workload is), has 3 part-time jobs, and commits 20 hours of volunteering a week. During an exam day, a window fell on him and broke his arm. Instead of going to the hospital, he insisted on taking his exam with a broken arm because he could not make time to accommodate for his wellbeing.

I met a freshman girl who suffered a mental breakdown when she got rejected from all the school clubs after dozens and dozens of interviews.

The reason behind all the intense competition is because many of these students are fresh out of high school where they've spent the past 4+ years committing to 10 extracurriculars and 20 Advance Placement classes and 1000 volunteer hours so that they can graduate at the top 1% of the class to (hopefully) attend such top universities. But it gets to the point where we're taught that instead of learning for the sake of learning, we're learning for the sake of getting that piece of paper aka the diploma.

And there are many professors who can recognize the difference between the former and the latter in a student of theirs. And there are many professors who will refuse to give even their A+ students a Letter of Rec because they feel that student is not genuinely passionate enough for whatever grad school or internship.

When I was 18 and crying over the stress of nursing school and feeling I was too dumb compared to everyone else, I wish I had someone to tell me to take a deep breath and RELAX.

So now I want to say it for any new or incoming college students that might be reading this: Relax.

Your career will not be over if you do not get into that club. Your social life is not dead just because nobody invited you to a frat party. You are not a loser if you don't have 10+ best friends. You getting a B or C on a paper does not mean your final grade can no longer be an A.

Yes, go to your professor's office hours but talk to them about things besides the coursework - let them get to know you as a person rather than as just a student. That's how they will really remember you among all the other students, and that's how they'll be able to write about you in their letter.

No, you're not dumber than everyone else. That's your imposter syndrome talking. I promise you that whatever idea, question, or concern you have about the course material, there is 100% another student in your class who shares the exact same thing. If you're struggling, 100% there are other students in your class who are struggling as much as you. Don't compare yourself to your peers because we're all battling our own problems and insecurities but we're just hiding it. Focus on yourself.

Be nice to everyone you meet no matter what because you never know what networking opportunities will arise in the near or far future out of that one interaction. Within 1 month of school, I was already offered an internship at a prestigious publishing house just because I let a girl in class borrow my book and we ended up becoming close friends. That network chain was conceived all because I was just nice enough to share my book with her in class.

Most importantly, be nice to yourself! You are smarter than you think you are. And just because you didn't achieve your goal, that doesn't necessarily mean it's your fault or you're a failure. Sometimes to get to your destination you need to take a different path compared to the path you see everyone else taking. And sometimes it's just not meant to be... yet.

Anyway, I'm extremely lucky and privileged to be able to say I am enjoying my 2nd round of university (especially after much pain and suffering in the first round). Which is a major reason why my updates for TAOL have been erratic and my comment moderation slow, but I will continue to do my best in updating whenever I can!

(And if there's even the slimmest chance one of you readers here might be attending the same uni as me, let's vote Chris Pine as our speaker! We must get the arts some representation and love)

Thank you for reading and I will see you soon in the next update 👀

[hournites]

Can you Come? 

Hournite Prompt: Beth’s car breaks down and Rick is the first person she calls for @battys-home

Beth sighs, happy that her errand-run is over as she closes her dad’s trunk. It’s a hot day and she’s thirsty. It’s almost lunch time. Her car is full of party supplies for the graduation party her parents are hosting for herself and her friends over the weekend. She still can’t believe that high school is over. It’s only been a week but she still feels weird not being in the cafeteria with her friends at noon. Milkshakes and fries at Richie’s sounds like the perfect way to unwind after the busy morning. Beth sits in the driver’s seat, hissing at the hot leather against her legs from the sun through the windows, desperate for the air con. She puts her keys into the ignition but the car won’t turn on. 

Beth frowns, taking her keys out and trying to start it again. The engine refuses to come to life. She groans, knocking her head against the steering wheel. The ice cream is going to melt. This is the worst time to break down. 

She reaches for her phone and airpods, pulling up her favourite contacts. “Rick? Hi.” 

“Hi. What’s up?”

Despite the situation, the sound of Rick’s voice always puts a smile on her face. “Dad’s car won’t start. I’m stuck in the parking lot and I’ve got freezer food in my trunk and--”  

“Air drop your location, I’m on my way.” 

Beth relaxes and does just that. “Thank you.”

The Mustang pulls up beside her parking spot not even ten minutes later. Rick’s in a white tank and hands over an iced tea in a can. Beth perks up from her wilted waiting, throwing her arms around Rick instead of taking the cold drink. “I am so happy to see you.” 

Rick chuckles, rubbing his hand over her back for a few moments before moving on to check what was up with the Ford. 

Beth takes a sip from the can, hopping onto the hood of Rick’s car as he pops open hers. “I don’t have the goggles with me. I wish I did, or else I could’ve at least let you know what the problem is.” 

“It’s alright. If I can’t figure it out in the next few minutes, we’ll just transfer over your stuff to my car and have Zeek pick this up. It’s probably the battery.” 

“My knight in shining armour,” Beth teases, appreciating the view. 

Rick wipes at his forehead and glances over his shoulder, crinkling his brow. “Me or Zeek?” 

Is that even a question? “You, of course!” She sets down the iced tea and approaches Rick as he inspects her car. His ears are red as he works. “I’ve always liked watching you work on cars. I’m glad Pat’s hiring you for the summer.” 

Rick sighs and closes the hood, giving her a long look. “We better call Zeek.”

Beth says, “Oh, is it done for?” 

“No. I just can’t concentrate with you looking at me like that.” 

“Like what?” Beth grins at him, knowing full well she’s full of it. 

“C’mere.” Rick draws her close, pulling her into his arms. She spins around and they’re face to face, trapped between their two cars. Rick lifts her back onto the Mustang to off-set the height difference and Beth easily loops her arms around his neck. “Did you get all the stuff on your list for the grad party?” 

“Yes.” 

“Do you still want to make the announcement at the party, too?” 

Beth runs her fingers up Rick’s tank coyly. “That we’re official now?” 

He nods. 

“Yes,” she says. “Although I’m not sure how much of it will be a surprise.” She meets his soft gaze. “This feels so right, it doesn’t even feel new.” 

Rick smiles. “I know what you mean.” He gives her a short kiss, then helps her carry over the grocery bags into the backseat of his Mustang. “Let’s get these over to your place and then stop on the way to Richie’s when we’re done?” 

Beth cheers. “You know what I think?” 

“What?” 

“Dead batteries aside, I’m pretty confident this’ll be the best summer ever.” 

[septembermorningbells]

personal life rant under the cut sorry the quickest therapy appointment i could get was monday

okay this is fundamentally so unserious. but it has been driving me absolutely bonkers and i cannot really tell my friends about it without also driving THEM crazy also its juvenile but. here.

ok so quick lore update the girl who made me realize I was gay is one of my best friends and i met her when she directed a play i was in freshman year. this is important. realized my feelings sophmore spring and I eventually told her how I felt the fall of my junior year, when i was in another one of her plays, and she kind of flipped out bc she was studying abroad that next semester and I don't think she was in an emotional places to process everything. it was very unclear whether she actually returned my feelings and she never told me but it was a resounding 'lets just be friends!!!' regardless. after we fought for a month 🤪

ANYWAYS the next semester she goes abroad and we continue texting like every day but i eventually kind of get over it and i still love her but it transitions a bit. She comes back and we are closer than ever in the fall, we do so many things together and basically keep developing our already very close friendship.

now it's senior spring. she applied for a grant that would take her to grad school in england and of course I assumed she would get it bc she is like fantastically talented. i have briefly dated other people in the period in between but nothing really worked out and so i just resign myself to the fate of just hanging out with my friends and actually looking for love ugh when I move in september. but also at this point i know im kind of still in love with her so i was like 'enjoy this time with her because its our last semester in college and we are never getting this time back etc' and even though i want her in my life forever i knew it would be SO hard to see her go and move to another country for a while and maybe date other people. so i figured she would move and i would cry and be torn up but i would get over it. also, in the meantime, I have been entering into a bit of a flirtation with a girl we have both known for a long time (who is lovely) basically as a distraction but we both knew that it was NOT serious.

also for context: the friend is directing ANOTHER play right now that both me and flirtation girl are in. we are playing love interests.

so last wednesday she found out she didn't get the grant. me and our very good mutual friend (calling her X she will play a role later, she is also very very close with the girl lol) are SHOCKED. this means she will likely be with us on the east coast of the US with us. the following night, I go to a party with X, our friends, and the girl i have been flirting with. She makes a move on me at the party, which i wasn't quite expecting bc the play is ongoing and I am worried about making rehearsal awkward but i was like 'ok fuck it i guess isnt this what i set up i made my bed'

THEN X pulls me aside and is like 'grace wtf are you doing' and i said 'you literally knew about this and its not serious, why are you mad' and X says 'grace, she's not going to england', basically implying something about my friend and me. naturally, I freak out. I blow off the flirtation friend and basically spiral for the rest of the night and weekend. I eventually make X talk to me bc WTF

okay so the entire problem is that X can't say too much without compromising my friend which is fair. but basically X validated YEARS worth of feelings that me and my friend do not have a normal relationship, we have basically been dating for who knows how long, and heavily implied that after she found out i made out with the girl at the party she was jealous. after year(s?) of repressing my feelings this revelation obviously made me insane. BUT X was like 'you guys need to talk but you should probably wait until the play is over to do it' which is in THREE WEEKS. she said it maybe wasn't necessary but she obviously can't say too much to me and I feel bad putting her in this position but also WHAT. WHAT.

okay so. I feel like there's been a chip made in the side of the hoover dam of my fucking repression and i am having such crazy feelings and I can't really express them. I know my friend would probably prefer that we wait bc she takes her shows very very seriously (something i love about her!! so much!!!) but also we graduate in a month and i don't know if i can just not talk about what's going on for that long. also there is a fair chance we talk and we still have to just be friends which would kind of murder me (oh context her mother is like very homophobic and until this year she has been SO wary of relationships which i thought was permanent lol until X told me many repeated times that 'now it is different' WHAT DOES THAT FUCKING MEAN) but i would almost want to get that over with now????????? jesus christ.

to make things worse we are, as i stated before, graduating and so emotions are just running very high in general. we need to have this talk but I also want to have it at the right moment so things don't go to shit. but i have had a very hard time concentrating on anything. will be back to buisness soon but until then. jesus christ. just pray for me at this point idk what else to say

[blackswaneuroparedux]

You must not sleep very much. How do you manage to do and read so much?

I’m not sure I can give you a convincing answer to that question. Certainly not one that provides a magic bullet to the quest to do more and get a reasonable amount of sleep necessary to function. The key to doing more is to get the right amount of sleep. In my case, I get in my 6 hours a night and make up some at the weekends. And in between I try to have daily power naps but that can be a luxury on many days. 

But I’m not a robot. I am flesh and blood.

Like many others I picked up bad habits at university where I wrote essays at the last minute and did all nighters to get it done for the following morning’s one one-on-one supervision with my tutor. I crammed a lot whilst also partying hard. I probably drank too much to compensate for the fact that I didn’t do drugs or take pills or energy drinks (my body was a temple for the worship of Dionysus, and he was a jealous drunken god who demanded of worshippers not to pollute his sacred temple). On top of which I was quite sporty at university and I could count my blessings that I wasn’t a ‘boatie’ who had to get up at the crack of dawn, cycle over to their college boat house alongside the river, and then row on the river in the freezing cold. My main sporting activity were modern pentathlon  - fencing, running, pistol shooting, equestrian riding, and swimming - and we had much civilised hours. Except I had one team mate who was fascist on insisting now and then we ran at the crack of dawn all long the Cambridge Backs of the colleges along the river.

I honestly don’t know how I managed it but I arrogantly felt I could by on just a few hours sleep, after all I could sleep when I was dead; to echo Homer:Ύπνω και Θανάτω διδυμάοσιν.’ (of Sleep and Death, who are twin brothers). Of course the longer you do it and the more ingrained the habit becomes, the harder it is to wean yourself off it. In my case that pattern lasted through my post-grad days. The thing is that you know it’s bad to keep putting in all nighters with little or no sleep but you don’t know any different. For me the answer was in front of me with old Democritus sternly staring back at me from my Classics books to say, “Ημερήσιοι ύπνοι σώματος όχλησιν ή ψυχής αδημοσύνην ή αργίην ή απαιδευσίην σημαίνουσι.” (daytime sleep indicates a distressed body or a troubled mind or laziness or lack of education.) But did I care? No.

When you do finally leave the cloistered walls of academia, you enter real life. Of course you realise quickly that your past habits can’t sustain you as you enter the world of work and earning a living. That’s when the chickens come home to roost.

In my case it was going through Sandhurst to be an army officer and then flying helicopters, and only later getting onto the corporate treadmill. Military life was a rude wake up call. But it became my saving grace. I had to unlearn so many bad habits picked at university and learn new habits. It was like learning new life skills that stays with you for the rest of your life - it’s by design that Sandhurst makes every new cadet officer enter their hallowed doors with an ironing board under their arm.

Throughout history, soldiers have faced serious sleep deprivation and have had to make do with squeezing rest in between firefights and in trenches, tents, and moving troop carriers. In my case it was between missions flying during the day or at night time. By necessity, they have to learn to sleep whenever and wherever they get the chance. But it’s true that inexperienced soldiers won’t sleep a single minute on the eve of a big battle. Your body is crying out for sleep but your brain is just too pumped up with either nervous energy, fear, or uncertainty.

I didn’t serve on the ground but in the air so my experience was different. A good friend of mine who served with the UK Special forces out in Afghanistan told me he preferred the special forces to being in a regular regiment because he said he got more sleep as a special operator. I thought that was barmy but I could see his point. As he explained, the army is full of ‘hurry up and wait’. That means it’s go go go, you get there and wait while the senior officers go off and find out where you are supposed to go and what you are doing when you get there. You know once the senior officer shows up, it’ll be go go go until the job gets done, so you sleep. You don’t have time to roll out your sleeping bag. You tear off your blanket, lay on the ground and have your bergen as a pillow. If you can’t sleep, you’ll pay for it later. As a special forces operator they know exactly what the mission and can plan their down time accordingly. Out in the field they’ve been trained to get some ZZZZs wherever and however they could.

 In my case the biggest challenge I faced was the uncertain time between missions and mostly getting pumped up, but then finding out the mission has been cancelled or put back for one reason or another. So you had to adjust and re-orienteer your nervous energy, time, and your head space: do I get some sleep or do I read or I do just chill out with the guys, or do I go over the mission logistics for the upteenth time? Of course if you sleep you find that the more immature of your comrades tend to goof around. In the beginning I used to sleep and my mouth would tend to open as my head swayed slightly, and the guys thought it would be funny to pour down some water from a water bottle into my open mouth. I would jump up awake thinking I was drowning. They soon gave doing that after a more senior officer gave them a bollocking and told them sleep was precious. They didn’t do it to me again, not because they listened to the senior officer, but because I got my revenge in other sweet ways e.g. like putting clear see through plastic cling film over the toilet so when they went for a shit…well, you can use your imagination. You don’t go to a girls’ boarding school and not learn a few tricks. 

With growing experience, however, you’ll figure out a few things just by watching other soldiers with more combat experience. I watched them, especially the special operators, and learned a ‘trick’ or a technique on how to get to sleep wherever you are. I would lie down or sit back and close my eyes. I inhaled deeply and counted as I inhaled the air. Most on average get up to 5 seconds but I did it for longer. I held the air in my lungs while I counted. Then exhaled and counted again as I exhaled. The counting relaxed the mind and takes your thought process away from the stress on your mind. The deep breathing slows down the heart rate, and ever so slowly the calmness spreads through the body. I did this process daily and I wouldn’t fall asleep until well after ten repetitions. But I would eventually get it down to three repetitions. Before you know it you fall asleep.

It’s not the only way. I learned of another technique which was to follow a few simple steps. Relax the muscles in your face, including tongue, jaw, and the muscles around the eyes. Drop your shoulders as far down as they'll go, followed by your upper and lower arm, one side at a time. Breathe out, relaxing your chest, followed by your legs, starting from the thighs and working down. You should then spend 10 seconds trying to clear your mind before thinking about one of the three following images: You're lying in a gentle swaying boat on a calm lake with nothing but a clear blue sky above you; you're lying in a black velvet hammock in a pitch-black room; or you say "don't think, don't think, don't think" to yourself over and over for about 10 seconds.

Sounds simple. But it takes practice. It can take up to six weeks to learn. Nothing will happen during the first week but by the second week I was falling asleep in an instant.

I know my share of veterans who have had sleeping difficulties after they came home from their tour in Afghanistan. This was of course due partly to PTSD. It can affect us in very small and odd ways or other ways which are more self-destructive. I knew some veterans now working in the civilian world still having a hard time sleeping in adjusting to their new lives. One or two started taking 5-HTP supplements about an hour before bedtime. They claimed it helped them sleep better because as the drugs acted as a precursor to serotonin which in turn is a precursor of melatonin which helps sleep. But all you are doing is storing trouble for yourself down the line as you risk getting serotonin syndrome. Your body makes serotonin to help your brain cells and other nervous system cells communicate with each other. Researchers think a lack of serotonin in your brain may play a role in depression. But too much of it can lead to extreme nerve cell activity and dangerous symptoms such as anxiety, nausea, vomiting, agitation, and heavy sweating.

I owe a lot to my eldest sister, who is a neurologist, and gave me a crash course in managing sleep by making me understand the science better. It helped me even more when I went into the corporate world. I use two of the techniques I’ve outlined now as it is extremely helpful for long overseas flights or even short trips. I stay away from drugs or other stimulants. I’m cheating when I say whisky or wine are not a stimulant, but you know what I mean.

I think making time for yourself to read is about getting a handle on your sleep first. So I’m quite militant on getting my 6 hours. Your health comes first so I always keep in shape by running early in the morning - at least a 5km run - wherever I am in the world. I hate gyms and I prefer to run outside even in the lashing rain. It’s just more natural. Running wakes me up and I feel energised for the rest of the day. I’ll try and do some yoga exercises if I can spare the time.

Only then can you cut out the unnecessary ‘white noise’ in your life to carve out space to do the things you love, like reading. For me that means cutting out social media. Apart from Tumblr and WhatsApp (for family and close friends), I don’t use social media. You waste so much time scrolling on your phone checking twitter, instagram or Facebook or TikTok etc. It sucks your brain and undoubtedly affect your mental health. I would rather read a book or an article than mess around social media.

Someone estimated you can read 200 books in a year if you cut out the crap of social media. I know that’s true because I read more than 200 books a year across many disciplines, even with my busy corporate work. Somebody once asked Warren Buffett about his secret to success. Buffett pointed to a stack of books and said, “Read 500 pages like this every day. That’s how knowledge works. It builds up, like compound interest. All of you can do it, but I guarantee not many of you will.”

One might look at that and think ‘500 pages a day?’ and quickly scoff that it’s impossible. It’s incredibly easy to make excuses and then justify them without any critical thinking at all to back it up. It’ more easier and lazier to say “I’m too busy”, “I’m not clever enough”, or “I’m too busy saving the planet from climate change and fight for a more just and inclusive world” (don’t laugh, I’ve actually heard that last one more than once).

But let’s do some math, because that’s partly what I do in my job. Let’s run the numbers. What does it take to read just 200 books a year?

The average person reads 200-400 words per minute. But if you’re on this blog then I’ll assume you read above 400wpm. Let’s look at data. A typical non-fiction book has around 50,000 words or more.

Now, all we need are some quick calculations. 200 books at 50,000 words per book = 10 million words. 10 million words/400 wpm = 25,000 minutes. 25,000 minutes/60 = 417 hours That’s all there is to it. To read 200 books, you simply have to spend 417 hours a year reading.

The trouble is our brains are hard wired to think big numbers as insurmountable as Everest as 417 hours seems impossible. The average person works 40 hours a week so how can such a person read 417 hours?

The key is to reframe the problem and look it from another way. According to one of my peers who works at a top tier management consultancy firm in the US. He researched what a single American spends on social media and TV in a year: 608 hours on social media and 1642 hours on television and streaming services (like Netflix).

Think about that. That’s 2250 hours spent on mostly trash. More shocking, just think if those hours were spent reading instead, you could be reading over 1,000 books a year!

I work between 60-80 a week but I still read more than 200 books a year. It’s possible if you cut out the crap that just distracts you.

Here’s the simple truth behind reading a lot of books: It’s not that hard. We have all the time we need. The scary part - the part we all ignore - is that we are too addicted, too weak, and too distracted to do what we all know is important.

The main reason is our failure to execute. One of the best ways to execute is to change your environment. Remove all social media that can distract and put books or journal articles in full view and accessible. This isn’t just in your home but also on your phone. I don’t have games or social media apps on my phone, except WhatsApp which is just for family and friends. I do have my music and also access to news and specialised journal apps. I also have Kindle - reluctantly as I prefer the touch of a real book in my hands than on a screen. I’m not a big fan of audiobooks but I am warming to them, especially when I go on long overseas flights for my work.

I also know that you can’t rely on your will power to do all this. Willpower is not a good tool for lifestyle change. It always fails you when you need it most. Instead of relying on strength of mind, I try to build a fortress of habits - these are what will keep one resilient in tough times.

I also enshrine the habit of making my reading opportunistic. In other words, I read any place I can and wherever I am. It could be waiting in the business departure lounge, or in the taxi, or in the toilet, in the Metro, waiting for someone whose late for a drink or dinner. I carve out time however I can in the same approach I used to carve out time for sleeping. If you have a chance, take it. If you don’t have a chance, then find one.

It’s not hard at all. As Buffet says, anyone can do it, most people won’t. 

Above all I try to retain my basic curiosity for every topic under the sun because I’m curious and I want to know. As Samuel Johnson said, “Curiosity is, in great and generous minds, the first passion and the last.” You have to make curiosity a passion. If you have passion then you can set your mind to anything. Most people just consume out of curiosity as if they are mindlessly consuming fast food. They’re not really thinking, they’re just taking it in. Oscar Wilde is right, “The public have an insatiable curiosity to know everything, except what is worth knowing.” You have to know the difference.

Except what is worth knowing? It seems most people just read whatever reinforces their views or props up their own straw man beliefs. It’s imperative to engage with opposing ideas to either sharpen and strengthen your own beliefs or concede you’re wrong and adjust your thinking accordingly with humility and a generous spirit.

In this regard I’m careful what I read in order to maximise my time and energy.

I try to read as many books or articles in the languages that I know. One, to sharpen my language skills. And two, to get the perspective from the inside, so to speak. Learning a language means automatically learning to think in another way.

I subscribe to few news outlets that I trust like The Economist. I also follow opposing newspaper outlets like the Daily Telegraph and the Guardian (it’s not that I trust what’s written but I trust they are going to parrot their line consistently). The legacy media is dying and increasingly very lazy in its reporting. I just don’t trust them anymore, which is why I also follow a select number of writers whose work I respect on Substack. The BBC is good enough place to start the day with before I look at specialised journals I’ve subscribed to, to look at an issue more in-depth like foreign policy or geo-political issues or economics. It’s the same for cultural things such as music, opera, literature. In this case I also keep in touch with my academic friends and ex-peers and I rely on them to send me articles of interest or guide me to specific journals and articles.

Anyway, sorry for the rant and the many digressions to answer your question but take it for what it is.

Thanks for your question

[221bshrlocked]

Security Check (6)

Security Check Masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Fem!Reader

Words: 1721

Warnings: Language. Awkward encounters due to alcohol.

A/N: I will be posting the rest of the parts every Wednesday in the afternoon (Pacific Time). And I will reblog with the taglist later. I hope you guys enjoy this and I am so so sorry I forgot to post these parts when I finished the story. Grad school is a pain in the ass...and family is even worse. Add yourself to the taglist here.

You woke with a vague ringing in your ear and it wasn’t until you struggled to open your eyes did you finally realize it was coming from somewhere near you. Groaning in pain, you turned around and saw your bag next to you on the mattress, scrambling through the pockets for your phone and swearing when you saw who it was.

“H..ugh fuck me, hello?” You cleared your throat a few times and rubbed your eyes to come back to reality.

“I guess the wine didn’t agree with you anymore than the last time.” You heard Emilie laughing on the other side and shook your head at how loud she was.

“What happened last night?” 

“You mean you don’t remember? Let me jog your memory a bit, Doctor, you had more wine than you can handle, a damsel in distress per usual, but a knight in shining armor saved you from making a fool out of yourself in front of your colleagues and students. Still can’t remember?” The more Emilie talked, the worse the pain in your head became because it only took you another few seconds to realize that you were not in your own apartment. You were in someone else’s and from what your friend just said, you had a pretty good idea whose place you were in.

“Okay...fuck, okay well the damage is done so I just got to deal with the after shitshow.” You rose from the bed slowly, looking over to the nightstand and seeing the two familiar pills next to the water. You swallowed them and stood up, grabbing your head when you felt the throbbing sound everywhere. 

“See you in an hour...or maybe more I guess.” Emilie laughed again and you wished you could go off on her but it wasn’t really her fault. 

“You’re horrible for letting me drink.”

“Yeah yeah sure love you too.” She hung up and you put your phone back into your bag, walking to the bathroom and refusing to look at the mirror because you didn’t want your self-esteem to drop. You combed your hair and put it up in a bun before washing your face and brushing your teeth.

“Great. You definitely made an impression now.”

Grabbing your bag, you put on your jacket and walked out and down the hallway, hoping the next few minutes wouldn’t be too awkward.

“No no, I promise I’ll make it to the party this time. Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Okay, love you too darling. I’ll see you later. Bye.” You couldn’t move from around the corner, heart rate increasing when you replayed the words over and over again.

This was too good to be true.

“Oh hey, I didn’t see you there. Morning sweetheart.” Bucky grabbed a mug and gave it to you, and when nodded your thanks, he knew something was up. When he saw you staring at his phone on the counter, he shut his eyes and thanked god that it wasn’t because you thought he may have done something.

“Sorry if my voice woke you up, my sister loves calling early in the morning.” It was an instantaneous reflex, the way our expression softened a bit, almost as if you were holding your breath and finally let it go.

“That’s r-really sweet.” You hated how well he read your mind, smiling at how thoughtful he was.

“Yeah, except when she does it on the weekend when she knows I like to sleep in.” 

You stood in silence as you sipped your coffee and it wasn’t until Bucky heard your stomach growl did he chuckle and move to grab you the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches he made.

“I cook one hell of a breakfast I swear, but we should be leaving soon if you want to go home and change.” Bucky handed you the food before grabbing his keys and his leather jacket. 

“Thanks.” You followed him out the door and down the stairs, glad that he didn’t bring anything up from last night.

“You’re offly quiet this morning Y/N.” 

So much for less awkwardness.

“I’m realizing I make less of a fool out of myself when I stay quiet.” You refused to look over to him, focusing on the passing cars and the pedestrians outside the car windows. 

“But where’s the fun in that sweetheart?” Bucky enjoyed teasing you even more now that he knew how you were when you weren’t shy.

“Huh yeah no I think I’ll pass.”

“Oh I’m sure there isn’t anything you can’t pass.” There was something strange in his tone that made you feel like you should know what he’s talking about. Thankfully, he didn’t say anything else until he reached your apartment.

“I’ll wait for you.”

“Oh god you don’t have to please.”

“Nonsense, you won’t make it anytime if you have to wait for an uber.” He parked and turned off his car, unlocking it and telling you he was sure he could wait. You nodded and practically sprinted out of the car towards the stairs, trying not to think too much of how kind he was being.

As you quickly changed out of your clothes and fixed your hair and make up, memories of last night came rushing back and you swore into the quiet apartment when you remembered the goddamn question you asked him.

You almost thought of not going down and waiting in your apartment until he left but you knew that was just too childish. So when you went downstairs and knocked on his window so he could unlock the door, you buckled your seat belt and waited until he got on the freeway before addressing the elephant in the room. Or the car in this case.  

“I’m really sorry about last night.”

“Oh, I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Bucky tried so hard not to smile but he knew you knew he was teasing you when he sensed you were looking at him.

“Joke’s on you I’m still going to apologize even though I know you know what I’m referring to. It’s not worse than what I said.” You were getting defensive and Bucky couldn’t help but make it worse. 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about darling, I had the time of my life last night.”

“I just want to put this on the record, nonetheless, and tell you how sorry I am. I was completely disrespectful and had no right asking such a personal question and if you would like to write a report once we get to the museum, I’ll be more than happy to tell you who to go to because this is unacceptable behavior an-” You didn’t get to finish your apology because Bucky was reaching across and pulling your neck to him, swallowing your surprise and smiling when you started kissing him back. You reached over and took hold of his hair, pulling on it and shivering when you felt him growl into the kiss.

A loud honk from behind you broke the kiss and Bucky was swearing under his breath when he saw the green light.

You didn't know what to say to him and felt like this only got more awkward.

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?” You asked a little louder than you wished.

“Thinking. It’s too loud.”

“Oh…”

“I’m just thinking out loud here, and call me out if I’m wrong, please, but I feel like you’re the kind of person that overthinks many things, and believe me when I tell you, that apology wasn’t necessary with me but I appreciate it nonetheless because had the tables been turned around, we would be having a different conversation. What I’m saying is, I want you to know that if you do anything that makes me uncomfortable, know that I won’t have an issue calling you out. So please, don’t overthink this. Yeah?” Bucky looked over to make sure you were paying attention and when you nodded, he continued. 

“Just like I won’t have a problem telling you what I like and dislike, I need you to do the same with me. If I make you uncomfortable, tell me becau-”

“You make me uncomfortable.”

The little outburst surprised Bucky and he wasn’t sure what you were talking about until you grabbed the hand on his thigh and held it in your own.

“Not in a bad way…”

Oh.

“Will it help if I stop my teasing? Because I really don’t want to make you uncomfortable sweetheart.” You took a few seconds to reply, avoiding the way his hand held tightly onto yours.

“No, no...it’s welcomed.” He could tell this was a lot for you but he still had one more thing to ask before you reached the university.

“I’m not going to beat around the bush Y/N, I really like you. And I want to take you out on dates, and be there when you’re too stressed and just need to cuddle, and make you breakfast and lunch and dinner. I have this really good feeling about us,” he noticed the way your fingers twitched when he said ‘us’ but he continued anyway. “And I want it all with you baby.”

“That...sounds nice.” You didn’t trust your voice, or your mind frankly, to say anything else.

“So we’re not overthinking anymore?”

“No.”

“And you’ll tell me anything that comes to mind even if you think it’ll be awkward?”

“Yes.”

“Great, now that we’ve got that out of the way, I can’t wait to show you the, what is it you called them, ‘exciting features’ of this arm!?” The second you registered his words, you threw his hand away and looked out the window again, sulking for the rest of the car ride, and ignoring his whispered apologies and touches. 

And when he tried to tell you that you were the one enjoying his teasing, you thanked god you were already on campus, grabbing your things and walking out the car but not before thanking him for the last twenty four hours. 

Bucky didn’t try to stop you, knowing very well that you probably needed some space to think over everything he just said.

“Well, that wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be.” You texted Emilie and declined the call when you saw her name come up.

Bucky Barnes Taglist: @libbymouse @its--fandom--darling​ @princess76179 @miraclesoflove @purple-mango @captainkitteh @talk-geek-to-me​ @acthenerd​ @positionsfyou @perfectnerdarbiter​ @words-way-of-life​ @a--1--1--3​ @niall7inches​ @nevenabadr​ @atashi-no-yuuki​ @marsplsstop​ @lostinspace33​ @planetariumx​ @leannawithacapitala​ @wonderkandfandomkingdom @cheekygeek05​ @gothicxbarbie​ @hypnoash​ @sugarpunch-princess​ @pleasantlysecretdream​ @zanzann​ @reaperofmen​  @inhumanwithpowers​ @youremyfriend-youremymission​ @thegirlnextdoorssister​ @yuukiblissthemusicwitch​ @hallecarey1​ @s-u-t @yourdragonsfire​ @buckybarneshairpullingkink​

Security Check Taglist:  @pipersdoodles​

[bloodbending]

i think i am going through a particularly hard transition in my internal life. outgrowing friendships, reckoning with dozens of uncertainties, dealing with the shame and fear of letting go of the safe performance of straightness i held on to for years (i am not out to my whole family and only to some of my friends)...

and it keeps coming up, forcing me to think about it, as i go through milestones with the people in my life. i feel like i cannot ignore it like i have in the past

for ex.

i had two good friends/roommates six-ish years ago, and they're great. one moved across the country and the other stayed where i live, though they live pretty far away. we were a cute trio, though they were closer in age and in the same major/grew up in the same place, so they were always closer to each other than me.

we're all in different careers and now living in completely different parts of the country, so we naturally grew apart. definitely on me as well, i'm very bad at keeping up and don't do a lot of social media anymore. plus i realized i was bisexual a little bit ago, and they knew me purely as the straight girl undergrad (they're 3 yrs older than me). they were very much that brand of cishet college grad who study hard and party harder. so it was fun while we were in college.

years passed and tbh it became clear we were all going in different paths. their priorities were very much 1) career 2) get a man to get married 3) family, house etc. whereas i was 83749 steps behind not even knowing my own sexuality or even fathoming where i was going to be in five years... very much flying by the seat of my pants

i even told roommate 2, the one that lives far away, that i figured out i was bisexual and she was v happy for me. though when i speak to her now, she's very like... reticent to recognize that part of me? she's the type of woman that's like "my gaydar is so accurate!" if you know what i mean lmfao. she means well but it seems she's more comfortable pretending i never came out to her. i didn't tell r1 because we didn't really talk individually and i had always been closer to r2.

roommate 1 invited me to her wedding and me and my other former roommate were really excited. i even texted her when i got the invite like "yesss im so excited!"

cut to months later, when my roommate 2 was in town. we all got dinner together along with roommate 1's fiance (now husband). super nice guy, so glad to see them, it was like no time had passed

the next time R2 was in town, i recommended a place to get dinner. i made reservations. then day of, and R1 and her fiance say they can't make it. no worries, it was far, so i understood

when i hung out one on one with R2 instead, she told me they actually didn't want to go to the restaurant cause it was too expensive and they had to save for their wedding... and i was like oh shit i didn't realize that, i would have been fine going anywhere... i wish she had just told me that directly, and i wondered why she didn't

cut to months later, the actual wedding, which was this week. i get there with R2 who flew in from another state. her fiance greets roommate 2 when we get to the venue and completely ignores me. we'd only met once but i was still kind of taken aback

and then when we go to see where to sit on the tables, i'm not on the seating chart. i freak out, did i not RSVP? i realize i did, she must of just forgotten me on the list, but i of course am completely thrown off and feel so so so bad

i had to ask her like hey, im so sorry something must have happened, can i just sit next to R2? and she was like yes omfg of course when i saw you, i told my event coordinator right away, you have a seat! so it ended up fine

and the whole time i was there i felt myself sliding back to the person i was before-- straight acting among all these upper class new england white girls, unsure, putting up a facade of perfect mental health, etc.

when her husband came to say hi to us again after i was like "hey we met before!" and he just said "yeah that was a long time ago" which... was so uncomfortable, i had no idea what to say

the reception was fun and i think my roommate was totally fine and she was very happy.

but after i came back from the wedding i was like.. damn, that all felt really bad.

like, again, why no text? no call? no nothing? i texted her the second i got the invite. if my RSVP didn't go through through some glitch, why didn't she reach out to me?

it was kind of awful and i felt so bad, both for potentially being a nuisance on her big day and also because i finally felt the result of me not keeping in touch, from work or stress or mental illness. i just can't help but think, man, my anxiety and adhd are real detriments to my life. but i also thought, well, that's just the way it is sometimes. friends stop being compatible, friends drift apart.

i thought about texting her in a few weeks (she literally just got married so i would never come to her with my hurt feelings right now, asshole move on my part) to apologize, say hey, i think there was miscommunication and i hurt you-- maybe you didn't think i was coming to your wedding so it made youassume certain things so i apologize for that.. i hope we're ok

but then i realized that i don't even think it's worth the effort now. she's not a priority in my life anymore, either... which fills me with sadness.

just been thinking about that. i feel i have to draw a line in the sand with who i pretended to be my whole life. i STILL act like that around people who i'm not out around, and tbh im realizing that it's filling me with resentment. i don't want to feel that way. but fear holds me back.

I want to be the person i have been afraid to be. it means facing all my flaws and potential disability-- and ACCEPTING that i have a disability. it that probably means a lot more grief and a lot of hard transitions.

it's a weird and lonely thing

[ardenloughty]

[ phoebe dynevor, woman, she/her ] — whoa! ARDEN LOUGHTY just stole my cab! not cool, but maybe they needed it more. they have lived in the city for THIRTEEN YEARS, working as a/an SERVER AND ATTENDING NYU FOR HER NURSING DEGREE. that can’t be easy, especially at only 25 YEARS OLD. some people say they can be a little bit IMPULSIVE and SARCASTIC, but i know them to be COURTEOUS and PASSIONATE. whatever. i guess i’ll catch the next cab. hope they like the ride back to QUEENS!

tw; alcohol, death

✹ get to know me quick.

name: arden loughty

age: 25

birthday: April 21, 1998

occupation: server & student at NYU

location: queens, ny

✹ bio

Twenty-Five years ago, Arden Loughty was born in Manchester, England, as the fourth and last child to her mother and father. When her mother was in her early twenties, she moved to England for a better career choice only soon later meeting her father and the two falling in love, creating a family and life in her father’s hometown. Growing up Arden didn’t have a bad childhood, she enjoyed school, had many friends, attended church with her family, it was every typical childhood dream you could think. At only the age of twelve, Ardens grandmother had fallen sick, and her mother couldn’t afford to continue flying back and forth, leaving her parents with no choice but to pack up and move the family to New York.

The move to a whole new country, let alone New York, was quite the struggle for Arden. Having to try to fit in with everyone, they only ever cared about the fact she had an English accent, nothing more or less, causing her difficulty in finding friends who cared more about who she was not where she was from. In high school, Arden was finally matched with her best friend, Brielle. The two were inseparable, Arden had felt she finally had met someone who had similar interests as her and didn’t care one bit that she might say a word different than her friend. The two made a pact that when they graduated, they were going to attend NYU together and get their nursing degrees. One the things the two shared within each other was the need to always help others, especially someone not feeling well, seeing the brightness of their smile at their roughest times was what Arden dreamed of being able to accomplish.

The summer of graduation, Arden and Brielle were attending a grad party that happened to get way too out of hand. Cops ended up showing up leaving everyone to scatter as quickly as possible while Arden and her friend just hopped in the back of one of their classmate’s cars, begging them to drive. Knowing if they got caught drinking or at a party, not only would they never hear the end from their parents, everything they worked so hard for school would just be thrown away. As their classmate was driving the two girls back home, Brielle noticed them swerving and started to beg for them to pull over to call someone else to pick them up. In the middle of the argument the driver not paying attention, zoomed past a red street light causing an oncoming car to collide right into them. All Arden can remember that night was holding Brielles hand as she took her last breath, soothing her the entire time. The classmate driving ended up with fifteen years in prison for manslaughter and a dui.

Ever since that night Arden made a promise to follow through with the dream her and her best friend promised. Getting a job serving at the Corner Pub, she was able to afford moving out of her parents and owning her own apartment located in Queens. She is attending NYU, as promised, while still trying to pick up as many shifts as she can. After the death of her best friend, Arden has tried her best to keep a smile on her face and always uphold herself with the best manners as her parents have always taught her. Though sometimes she can’t help snapping at somebody who holds the lack of common sense.

✹ Cute little facts

Never had a serious relationship, had flings, but never went too far

She is very family oriented and dreams of having a big family one day

She is very focused on school and her job, and maintaining her life.

She loves reading, whenever she has free time she picks up a new book.

She does enjoy drinking, seeing as shes a server at the pub regularly she will take shots with the regulars.

She doesn’t smoke.

She goes on a morning run every morning to keep herself up and ready for the day.

This is her last year serving as at the end of her school year her internship nursing starts and she will only have more year of school left until her degree.

✹ Connections

Brothers: (Arden is the youngest out of four children and the only girl. Shes very close with them and they are super protective of their little sister)

Close Friend: (Ardens next best thing to a best friend. She doesn’t open up to many people but this person she does more than other.)

Flings: (Just a little hookup on the side)

Coworkers: (Arden has been at her job for five years, starting when she was only twenty so its safe to say she has coworkers shes closer with.)

Students: (Someone else attending school or who just has the same interest in medical like she does.

The One Who Got Away: (Ardens never been in a relationship but if she were to picture her future husband/wife she would picture this person)

[dickytwister]

I have to hear about we repress our gay feelings for our childhood best friend here sir from the WIP Roundup!

YIPPEE this one is abt my marvel oc nikita and his gay ass friendship with zemo,,,, the wip is basically what happens in tfatws when they've got that littol party in madripoor and they meet bones @quickhacked's oc florence :3 snippet under the cut once more owo

Nikita was silent when they got back to their shared room. The party was still raging downstairs, it probably would keep going for hours still, and he could only hope that their new allies wouldn’t find a way to cause trouble on purpose. He could hear Helmut locking the door behind him while he swept the room—the chances of an intruder were slim, especially with the kind of security Sharon had, but old habits died hard and he much preferred playing it safe in a place like Madripoor. “You’re uncharacteristically quiet.” Helmut’s voice was calm, but it echoed in the nearly empty room. He’d dressed down into sleeping pants and an oversized t-shirt, also gracefully lent to them by their host, and was standing near the end of the bed. The neon lights seeping through the thick blinds cast colourful shadows across his face and Nikita could only stare for a second too long, enraptured by the sight. Sighing, he sat on the side of the bed, looking obstinately at the window in front of him. He felt the mattress dip beside him, a thigh barely touching his own, yet it was enough to make Nikita shudder and bite the inside of his cheek. Eight years. He’d spent eight years yearning for Helmut to come back, to come home. Nikita had been longing for him for longer than he could recall, but he’d always had him by his side, from Novi Grad to every battlefield they’d been sent to, and then later in Siberia. Those eight years without him… they’d been hard. Impossibly so.  Helmut was right here, warm freckled skin just within his reach. Miles and miles away from his prison cell, alone in a room together, dressed down and sitting on the same bed, and yet, yet Nikita felt so far away. He kept his hands on his lap, flexing his fingers distractedly in an attempt to keep himself from reaching out, held back by the irrational fear that, were he to move his hand to the side, it would go right through Helmut’s knee, as though he were made of air. Just another trick of Nikita’s sick, sick mind.

[elisela]

tell your secrets stallison, college au, friends to lovers day 13: secret

“Tell me a secret,” Allison says. “It feels like a good night for those.”

It’s just past midnight and uncomfortably hot in the still night, stars twinkling above them as they lay back on the hood of Stiles’ Jeep. She’d insisted on putting a blanket between them and the metal, and every time she moves she feels herself slip down another half-inch. 

“I was the one that ate your Cheetos last week,” he says, and she grins up at the endless sky. 

“I already knew that, it doesn’t count.”

“Does too, you only suspected. You also accused Danny.”

“Well, I knew it was one of you, but fine.” There’s a loose thread on the hem of her tank top and she wraps it around her fingernail before unwinding it slowly. Ask me, she thinks. In the dark, she might find the courage to be honest. But Stiles falls silent for once in his life, fingers brushing the outside of her thigh every time he fidgets, never noticing the way it makes her shiver. “We should probably go back. Twenty-one or not, you know Dad’s still one of those ‘as long as you live in my house’ people and he hates if I’m out too late.”

“Ten more minutes,” Stiles says. “We still haven’t seen any shooting stars.”

She rolls her head to study him in the weak light of the moon, but doesn’t protest. She could always use another chance for a wish.

--

Stiles comes around to her side of the booth the second Scott and Kira leave, sighing loudly. “That’s a new low, even for us,” he says, stealing her cup and taking a long drink. She pokes him in the stomach in retaliation. “Especially for you, though.”

She doesn’t care. She hadn’t wanted to date Scott anyway, it doesn’t matter to her that he left with Stiles’ date. Anyone who’s seen Scott and Kira interact could have predicted it would happen sooner or later. “Maybe you should stop trying to set me up with your nerdy friends, then.”

He throws his head back and groans. “Scott’s the least nerdy of all of us.”

“I’m the least nerdy of all your friends,” she corrects, and he laughs.

“Yeah, but I can’t set you up with you.”

“I don’t want to be set up!” she says, wrestling her cup away from him and finishing what remains. There’s a pout on his face; she wants to lean over and kiss him. “Tell me a secret,” she says instead. 

Stiles fingers drum on the booth for a moment. “You remember that party you had in junior year?”

Allison hates this story. “Of course I remember it, you didn’t stop talking about how you lost your virginity in my guest room for months.”

“Yeah, well,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows, “I stole the condom from your Dad’s nightstand.”

She throws a french fry in his face. “That’s disgusting.”

He snaps his teeth but it hits him square in the nose. “Your turn, Ally-bee.”

“I used to fantasize about your dad,” she lies, and he mimes gagging, slapping at her leg. “When he’d come over in uniform to pick you up—” she breaks into giggles as he gives up slapping to make sure stop and digs his fingers into her ribs instead, pressing so close that all she’d have to do is turn her cheek to kiss him. “Okay, I’ll stop, I’ll stop!”

---

“Can you believe we graduate tomorrow?”

Allison picks a piece of confetti off her skirt. “At least you have grad school,” she says, letting it fall from her hand and onto the ground. “I have to start being a real adult.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Just tell your dad you want a business degree and he’ll throw more money at you.” She kicks gently at his ankle, and he grins. “Come on, let’s get out of here. I want to go up to the lookout for one more sunset before we leave this place.”

“Stop being so dramatic, you’re leaving the school, not the town,” she laughs. “You’re even staying in the same apartment.”

“Are you coming with me or not?” he asks, but he’s already pulling her up like he knows she’d never say no. 

Stiles keeps the music on while they drive, and she watches out the window, catching glimpses of their younger selves in every place they pass. The taco trunk they’d go to every time they got too drunk on fraternity row, the mini-mart across from her freshman dorm where they’d stock up on snacks for study sessions. The coffee shop they’d loved in high school, the bowling alley they’d gone to every Saturday night in middle school, the library where they’d met as children. She’s so caught up in her memories that she hardly notices when they reach the lookout and Stiles pulls his backpack out of the back of the Jeep.

“Follow me,” he says, leading her to a small trail cut into the bushes. She grasps his hand when he reaches back even though he’s the clumsier of the two, and soon enough he cuts off the trail, pulling her along until the trees part and they reach a small clearing on top of a bluff. “Cool, huh? Danny told me how to find it.”

“It’s beautiful,” she says, taking the blanket he’d pulled out of his backpack and shaking it out before letting it float to the ground. When he sits down next to her there’s a bottle of sparkling wine and two plastic cups in his hands. Stiles is surprisingly quiet, so she offers up the one thing that’s been weighing on her mind. “Dad asked how I’d feel about working in the New York office instead of here.”

“What’d you say?”

She shrugs, studying the way the pink streaks of clouds fade into soft peach near the horizon so she doesn’t look at his face and get her hopes up. “Told him I’d think about it.” They drink the wine while they talk, and Allison tries to draw it out in case it really is the last time, but she’s still finished just before the sun slips under the horizon. By the time the sky is dark they’ve shifted so they’re lying on their backs, ignoring the lights of the city spread out below them.

“Tell me a secret,” she says, playing with one of the strings on the hoodie he’d given her when she’d shivered.

“I’m in love with you.”

Her breath catches in her throat and she rolls her head to look at him. He’s looking back at her, eyes a little too wide, more still than she’s ever seen him. She breathes out; there are only inches between them, and she reaches out her hand to cross the distance. “You’re in love with me?”

His hand closes over hers, pulling gently, arm coming up around her when she tilts into his space. “Can’t eat, can’t sleep, follow you across the country if I need to kinda love,” he says. “You just say the word. But if—”

She kisses him. Drops his hand and cups his cheek instead, fitting their mouths together like she has so many times in her daydreams. It’s so much sweeter than she’d ever imagined. “Yes,” she says, pulling back just enough to get the words out but not so far their lips aren’t brushing together. “To all of it. Everything. I’m in love with you too.”

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