#my dad keeps being like well *I* want you to go to grad school in mtl bc i like mtl and i want to visit 😁

[liinos]

saw a reel of some kids at an orchestra camp that looked suspiciously like the one i was forced to go to one year... worst experience of my life!!!

[wrenreid]

Off Limits

Part Twenty-Seven

My freshman year of high school, I was put into a junior level government class. I was only in there because it was the only class that fit into my schedule other than ag classes I couldn’t have been less interested in. I didn’t talk much in the class because everyone was older than me, and they thought I was a kiss up because i always made good grades. I didn’t particularly love the class, but of course, I still did my work and did it well.

Toward the end of the year, we did a mock trial. We drew for positions within the trial, mr flynn the judge. I drew attorney.

The case was a business lawsuit, I was the lawyer who was going against the business for their supposed cruel acts.

Mr. Flynn told us that we would receive extra credit if we dressed up, so me, a fourteen year old with a desperate need for academic validation, borrowed one of my mother’s pencil skirts and a suit jacket from my dad. I looked like a mini Aaron Hotchner, even my mom said so.

I remember preparing for the trial for at least a week, being a little excited about the project. I wanted to win the case, especially since I was, as I believed, on the right side of the law.

My opposing attorney was Noah Kincaid. He was a smart but cocky kid who also cared about winning the trial.

I remember standing up from my desk when is was my turn to ask questions to the kid under oath. I felt as though I had stepped into myself for the first time. It was just a mock trial that lasted half an hour, but I felt proud and confident. I was good at it.

Mr. Flynn pulled me aside after class and told me I should consider law school in the future. He said, and I quote, “The way you handled yourself was the most confident and concise I’ve ever seen in a student. You surprised me, Hotchner.”

I didn’t take it to offense that he said my skills surprised him. In his defense, he’d only heard me talk when I turned in a paper or answered a question, which the latter was usually rare since I didn’t particularly like to “show off” in front of juniors who already thought I was a kiss ass.

I did, however, take his first sentence as a compliment. I was confident and my statements and questions were concise.

I smiled, nodded, thanked him, then left. A lawyer was not on my top five career choices at the time. I didn’t want people to think I was doing it because of my father. I was definitely not. But after some research and a few binge watches of crime shows, I knew I actually did want to be an attorney. Not because of my father but almost in spite of him.

My dad quit his job as a lawyer and took the job Agent Gideon offered him at the BAU. I resented him for it, still do, but that’s besides the point. He wasn’t around much in my most influential years, and at fourteen, I decided I would be a lawyer, and if I happened to have a family, I wouldn’t take a new job that prevented me from being there for them.

So now, I’m currently four weeks away from grad school and three years away from the BAR. And I’m going to rock the shit out of them both. Because I can and because I’m determined. It’s also way less about my unresolved daddy issues now than it was in high school and even some of college, it’s a dream of mine.

Spencer has made it his mission to make sure I enjoy the last month of summer as much as I can. He’s taken me out on a million dates like picnics, movies, late night drives around the city and out into the country, and more every chance he gets between cases.

At least now we don’t have to sneak around and lie about our relationship. Though I was prepared to keep this from my dad for however long necessary, I’m pretty glad we accidentally outed ourselves at my graduation dinner.

My dad cooked a big meal for me, some family, friends, and we invited the team too. Spencer and I didn’t even sit near each other. We barely talked the whole dinner just to be safe.

But as love-sick, horny couples do, when we saw an opportunity to take a minute alone, we did just that.

Having your father catch you making out with a guy will never not be awkward, but when the guy happens to be his employee, it’s fucking weird.

Though, I will say, the look on his face was priceless. I’ve hardly seen him have that much emotion on his face.

After a very awkward, flushed-face, and stuttered explanation from Spencer and me, we were able to calm my father down. He was a lot more excepting than I expected; I think he finally realized he can’t dictate my life, and he saw how happy we are together.

The rest of that dinner consisted of a lot of teasing from Derek Morgan, my brother being grossed out by me having a boyfriend, and everyone asking about law school.

I’m excited and anxious to start the rest of my life as a law student. I’ve prepared for this for nearly 8 years now, and I’m getting closer and closer to my dream career. It’s terrifyingly exciting. I’m grateful to have my family and Spencer by my side through all of this.

hey, so this is it for this story! this is also most likely it for my fanfiction in general.

and for a little life update: i started college a month ago, and i’m adjusting to my new life which has been interesting and scary and fun. im also in a healthy relationship and have been for a while which has been pretty amazing. i hope all my mutuals/ readers are doing well. thank you guys for sticking around :)

tags: @pauline5525mgg @theintimatewriter @lilibet261 @greysviolets @jazzymariexoxoc @one-sweet-gubler @thatsonezesty13 @necromaniackat @awhoreforspencerreid @sebs-oxygen @scarredelirium @bts-sugaplum @awesomeness1679 @preciousbabypeter @yazzyu @cynbx @r3idsp3ncer @1010lizz @tiredbut-here @skulzombiw @lena-1895 @eevee0722 @shakespear-picaso-lovechild @daydreamingqueen1 @regulus-black-223048 @virginmusicloverr36 @jazzerbelle14 @kylakins88 @f-me-reid @lovejules888 @marimorena06 @daph-421 @idkusername8787

[jobean12-blog]

Lesson Learned

Pairing: Dbf!Bucky x reader

Word Count: 3,611

Summary: You’re in grad school and it’s been a rough semester but thankfully your father knows just who can help you get back on track and pass your organic chemistry class. 

Author’s Note: Here’s my first crack at DBF!Bucky. Ater all these award ceremonies I just had to do it haha. It moves pretty quickly because well, he’s fucking hot and we want him! The reader is around 22-23 and Bucky would be about 20 years older ish. Everyone is consenting and of age. Thank you so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by my sweet Daisy @firefly-graphics thank you love! 

Warnings: flirting, teasing, tension, light dirty talk, curses, fingering, oral (f rec), smut (18+ ONLY PLEASE!!!) 

“Come on Dad! I don’t see the need for this! I’ll make sure I get myself together for next semester and do better.”

Your Dad gives you a pointed look with his heavy sigh. “Sweetheart. You’re paying far too much money to not be getting the grades you’re capable of. Please, just give it a try. For me.”

You stare unblinking while you try to find the willpower to keep up the fight but it crumbles quickly at his pleading eyes and you give in with a soft, “fine.”

“Great, I’ll set something up for next week.”

“Who is it anyway?” you ask.

“Someone you already know so you’ll be comfortable and you two can just get right down to studying.”

“But who?”

“You’ll see,” he answers with a bright smile. “Now, I’m off to work. Enjoy your day. I’ll see you for dinner.”

Your father’s vague words pique your curiosity and you spend the rest of the morning mentally filing through a list of possible people he could know that would be able to tutor you in organic chemistry.

When no one comes to mind you let it go for the time being and focus on enjoying the rest of your freedom before studying takes over your life.

“How does Friday night sound?” your Dad asks as you help him clean up from dinner.

“FRIDAY NIGHT? DAD!”

“Do you have plans?” he asks with a raised brow.

“Well…no. Not yet. But I might get some,” you start to protest.

He tries to suppress his smile but fails and you huff in frustration.

“Fine, but don’t make that the usual day each week. Why can’t we do like Wednesday?”

“I have him coming two days a week and we can add more if you need it.”

“Ugh this is just getting better and better. And why can’t you let me handle scheduling. I’m an adult, I’m capable.”

“You most certainly are sweetheart and once you have your first session I’ll let you handle it from then on out. Ok?”

“Ok,” you tell him. “He better be an amazing tutor.”

“He’s the best,” your Dad assures you.

Friday night rolls around quickly and you’re surprisingly nervous, your father’s secrecy having caused your anxiety to grow with each day.

You’re in your room getting ready when you hear the bell and with one last glance in the mirror you quietly tip toe down the steps to listen and take a look at your new tutor.

When your father walks into the living room your eyes go wide with surprise.

He’s tall, dressed in well fitted jeans that accent his thick thighs and a soft sweater that pulls tightly across his broad chest. His dark hair is long enough to tuck behind his ears and his full beard is peppered with patches of gray.

“Fuck,” you mutter quietly, distracted by how handsome he is.

Startling yet familiar blue eyes settle on you and you’re suddenly flooded with a feeling of recognition.

“Ah! There you are sweetheart. Come say hello! You must remember James.”

You take a tentative step down, holding onto the railing with sweaty palms.

“It’s been a while,” James murmurs, never taking his eyes off you.

Your father starts peppering James with questions and you the opportunity to study him more closely. You definitely remember him but you don’t remember him looking like this.

James holds out his hand as you approach and you slowly reach out yours to greet him. With a firm shake he smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling with the action.

“Alright, I have that dinner to get to,” your dad starts, slipping between you and James to grab his jacket. “I’ll let you two get to work. I shouldn’t be back too late.”

You barely remember saying goodbye to your father as you shuffle into the dinning room and start to prepare your laptop and books. James says goodbye to your father and then joins you.

“You’re all grown up,” James says when he walks in.

His eyes study your face before they slowly sweep down your body with obvious appreciation. When he brings his gaze back to yours his tongue darts out to wet his lips and you follow the motion, squirming on the spot.

His hands are in the pockets of his jeans and the fabric is pulled taut across his crotch. You can’t stop your eyes from dropping between his legs. You don’t reply to his statement and instead swallow hard and gather yourself.  

“Organic chem is hard and I need to pretty much ace this upcoming semester if I want to save my grade.”

He chuckles and steps closer to you.

“So that’s it. We’re just going to get right down to business,” he asks.

You keep your head down and your eyes on your books.

“Well, you’re here to help me study right?”

“Sure doll. I’m here for whatever you want. But it wouldn’t hurt to catch up first.”

You rest your elbows on the table and force yourself to look at him.

“What do you want to know, James?” you ask, trying to hide your nervousness with some sass.

“First of all, call me Bucky. Your father and I have been friends for half our lives and I’ve known you for most of yours. No need for formalities.”

You nod in agreement and he continues.

“How is grad school? Are you enjoying yourself or spending all your time buried under books?”

You let out a long exhale and slump back in the chair.

“It’s a lot of work but I do enjoy it and I want to do well.”

“So, what happened this last semester,” he asks.  

“I lost focus,” is the only answer you give him.

“Boyfriend?” he asks with a smirk.

You cross your arms over your chest and he does nothing to hide the ways his eyes slowly wander down your face and settle on your breasts.

“We broke up,” you say flatly before narrowing your eyes his way.

“That’s too bad,” Bucky sympathizes, but you get a hint of sarcasm hidden there.

You wave him off and push the book toward him.

“I’m sure with your help I’ll get right back on track.”

“When I’m done with you doll, you’ll be exactly where I want you.”

You try to ignore the heat in his words and focus on making easy conversation.

“What about you?” you quickly ask, hoping to change the subject. “How come you know so much about organic chemistry?”

He sits back with a smile. “I’m a professor. I was doing the chemical engineering thing for a while but needed a change of pace so I moved back here and I’ve been teaching at the state college for about a year now.”

“That’s great,” you tell him.

“I enjoy it,” he says with a shrug.

He leans closer and you get a better look at his face, the patches of gray in his beard even more prominent under the lighting in the room and your mouth goes dry. His long fingers reach across the table and your eyes follow the movement, every nerve in your body alive with anticipation.

With a tug he pulls the book from your grip, laughing when you startle slightly.

“Do you want a drink?” you ask, standing suddenly and disappearing into the kitchen.

You don’t wait for his answer and open the cabinet, reaching up to grab a glass. Your fingers slip over the smooth surface and you shift forward to get a better grip only to feel the press of something hard against your back.

“Need some help?” Bucky whispers along your ear.

Your breath catches in your throat and you will your body not to react but you can’t stop the involuntary shiver that runs down your spine. At the press of his body so close your mind goes blank and you can only register the feel of him, the way his chest brushes your back with every breath he takes and how his scent overwhelms you.

He curls his fingers around the glass and plucks it from the shelf, holding it up for you. You take it from him but he doesn’t move away.

“Need anything else?” he asks, resting both palms along the counter and caging you in.

You clutch the glass to your chest and turn in his arms.

“Water,” you breathe out, slipping away from him to the sink.

He keeps his distance the rest of the time you’re together but his eyes linger and shine with an intensity that you can’t deny. Despite the obvious tension hanging between you, he’s an excellent tutor and you learn more in one session that you have the entire semester.

“So, I’ll see you next week?” he asks as you gather your things. “Friday again? Or are you going to be busy with a hot date?”

He smiles playfully and you return the gesture.

“No, probably not but I was hoping we could meet more than once a week…”

He takes a step closer to you, his eyes darkening and dropping to your mouth when you suck your bottom lip between your teeth.

“That is…if you’re available?” you continue, your voice unsure.

“For you doll, I’m always available. How does Tuesday sound?”

“Great,” you say with a squeak.

“You did so well today,” he says quietly, pressing his thumb under your chin to lift your gaze. “And I’m sure you’re going to continue to impress me.”

The combination of his words and the feel of his fingers on your skin almost makes a whimper escape your parted lips.

You manage a nod of agreement before you lean into his touch. His fingers spread over your cheek and he brushes his thumb across your lips, his eyes closing as he grits his teeth.

“Did your father….?”

He never finishes his question because you hear the lock of the front door click and your father calls to you as he opens it.

Bucky takes a step back and let’s out a deep breath.

“Hey!” your father chimes. “How did it go?”

You’re rummaging through your closet when you hear a knock on your bedroom door.

“COME IN!” you shout from half inside the closet.

“Hey sweetheart,” your father says. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for my skirt,” you grunt with the exertion of shifting clothes. “I know it’s in here somewhere. Ugh, I can’t believe I still have all this shit from High School.”

“Well don’t take too long, James is already here.”

“He is,” you say, suddenly feeling breathless. “But he’s early.”

“Only a few minutes.”

“Shit,” you hiss. “Ok, be down in five.”

Your effort to remain unperturbed by the mere mention of Bucky’s name, let alone his presence, flies out the door with your father and you silently curse yourself.

Once you find your skirt and get dressed you push your shoulders back with determination, resolute in the hope of taking control of the situation.

You flounce down the stairs to find Bucky sitting on the couch while your father is standing with his back to you both and on the phone. Bucky’s legs are spread wide and one hand rests casually on his thigh and the other is gripping the back of the couch.

At your approach his eyes immediately find you, that familiar heated desire filling them.

You walk the rest of the way down and give him a wave.

He sits forward and places his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together and staring.

You stop only a few inches away from him with an expectant look.

“Are you ready to study?” you ask cheerily.

The only response you get is a low growl before he stands and wraps his arm around your waist. He tugs you into his chest and dips his head to your ear.

“If this is some kind of game you’re playing doll, you’re not going to win.”

Your palms meet the muscles of his toned stomach, easy to feel under the thin material of his soft shirt, and you tilt your head back to look him in the eyes.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about Bucky.”

Before your father can see you in his arms you move away and sashay into the dining room.

“Alright. Sorry about that phone call. I’m going to my office to do some work, I’ll see you before you leave James.”

Your father excuses himself and walks down the hallway, shutting his office door.

As you’re organizing your things your feel Bucky’s presence at your back, the warmth of his body like a caress. He traps you against the table and presses his arousal along your ass.

“Did you wear this just for me?” he asks as he runs his nose along your throat.

“My father is home,” you moan as you lean into him.

“I know that doll face but I’m not the one who’s walking around looking like they wanna get fucked.”

“I guess you’ll just have to wait then.”

You wiggle away from him and lean down to grab something from your bag, putting your panties on display.

Without a warning he grabs your arm and spins you around, taking two long strides and pressing you into the wall.

“So last week was just an act? Hmm? What happened to all that shy sweetness?”  

“It’s still there,” you purr with a bat of your lashes. “I told you you’ll have to wait.”

“Or…” he growls. “I could just tear those pretty little panties right off and stuff you full of my cock right now.”

The sound of footsteps widen both your eyes and Bucky pushes off the wall and falls into the chair at the table. You quickly adjust your skirt and smooth a hand down your shirt before grabbing your book.

“Hope I’m not disturbing you two,” your father says as he walks by. “Just need something to drink.”

“We’re fine Dad,” you answer with a sweet smile. “Working hard.”

Bucky just nods but keeps his face in the book.

Your father gives you one last smile before shuffling back down the hall.

“Shall we,” you chirp and pop open your laptop.

Even with your new found feelings of confidence it’s hard to deny how much you want Bucky to do exactly what he said he could do and the whole study session you find your mind wandering to thoughts of it.

“Where are you right now doll?” he asks with a knowing smirk.

You clear your throat and let out a little huff.

“Right here Bucky.”

He closes the textbook with a snap and stares at you so intensely you squirm in the chair.

“You’re full of shit,” he murmurs.

Before you can protest your father walks back into the kitchen to refill his glass.

“Hey Dad! I’m going to call it an early night and do some reading before bed,” you say, standing and starting to clean up.

“Alright sweetheart. Can you see James out for me? I have one more call to make and then I think I’ll do the same!”

“Sure,” you answer and give your father a kiss on the cheek.

The two friends bid each other farewell and you wait until you hear the click of the office door.

“Friday?” you ask Bucky as he shrugs on his jacket.

“I’ll be here,” he grits out.

You smile demurely and head for the door but you’re once again pulled back and into his arms.

“I’m going to give what you’re so desperately begging for doll but I won’t do it until I have you all to myself. I want to hear you screaming my name while I take you apart.”

His lips ghost over yours, the light brush sending goosebumps dancing across your skin and making your eyelashes kiss your cheeks.

“I just want to pass my class next semester,” you manage to say, sass and all.

“Mm sure you do doll face,” he murmurs before pressing a kiss just below your ear. “See you Friday.”

When the door shuts you lean against it, squeezing your thighs together and letting out a frustrated moan.

“Fuck me.”

Friday arrives and you’re standing in front of your bed, staring at the clothes that lay over it. You can’t decide what to wear but you want it to be dangerously enticing because you can’t get enough of this little game you and Bucky are playing.

Your father will be home again tonight so you know it will be a session full of teasing that will leave you needing your vibrator later.

You finally decide on a cute pair of comfy shorts and off the shoulder top and some knee-high socks. It’s cozy but sexy.

When you settle in the dining room your father is mulling about the kitchen and muttering to himself.

“Dad?” you ask, peeking inside. “What’s wrong?”

“I have to go to the office. Our biggest client in Australia is having issues with their e-mail and I can’t do what I need to do from here but I haven’t had dinner yet and I’m starving.”

Your heart starts to race at the thought of being alone with Bucky and your eyes grow wide.

Your fathers eyebrows draw together in concern. “Don’t worry sweetheart. I can just order something and pick it up on the way there. Hopefully I won’t be there all night.”

“Right,” you say quietly, glad he thought your expression was due to his dilemma. “Good luck.”

“Thanks and tell James I’m sorry I missed him.”

You nod with an audible swallow and pretend to busy yourself with getting ready to study.

Just as your father walks out you hear him greet someone and before you have a chance to catch your breath, Bucky is standing in the doorway.

He gives you a once over, his eyes lingering on every inch of your exposed skin before they stop on your face and he licks his lips.

“Your father just told me he has to go into the office…guess it’s just you and me tonight.”

You take a few steps backward, bracing yourself against one of the chairs.

“He might be back soon,” you whisper, your voice quivering.

“What’s the matter doll? Are you afraid I’m going to do what I promised?”

“I’m not afraid of anything.”

“No. You’re not,” he simpers as he crowds your space and settles his hands on your hips. “And I bet if I get my fingers between those gorgeous legs you’d be soaked right now.”

“Please,” you whimper, trembling when his hands slip under your shirt and smooth along your skin.

He grazes them just under your breasts, a soft tease, before he slides them down and traces the waistband of your shorts.

“The last two weeks have been torture. From the moment I saw you I couldn’t wait to get my hands on you.”

“What are you waiting for?” you ask with pant.

His eyes sparkle with predatory intent as he dips his fingers into your shorts and brushes one over the wet patch of your panties, the material sticking to your skin.

He grits his teeth with a sharp hiss and pushes the fabric to the side. His fingertip is just a ghost of a touch and you rock your hips into his hand, needing more.

He brings his face closer to yours, his soft beard brushing along your cheek as his warm breath caresses your lips.

Your eyes start to close and you tilt your head, hovering so close you can almost taste him.

“Is all this for me?” he asks as his finger easily slides through your folds. “Was this how you went to bed every night after we studied?”

“Yes,” you answer, unable to say more.

You grab onto his shoulders and dig your nails into his sweater.

“Did you fuck yourself with those pretty little fingers wishing they were mine?”

“Bucky,” you whine.

“Answer me,” he growls.

“Yes!”

He slowly circles your clit, using just enough pressure to make you arch into him. One of his thick fingers teases your entrance and you let out a lewd moan.

“Did it feel as good as this?” he asks when he buries his finger inside you.

“Fuck,” you cry out. “No, nothing feels this good.”

He trails wet kisses down your neck, stopping at your pulse point to lick and suck a dark mark on your skin.

“Please. I need more,” you beg.

When a second finger joins the first you mewl at the stretch, rocking into his hand.

Your body aches, squeezing his fingers as he grazes his lips across yours with a taunting kiss.

You bite his lower lip, drawing another growl from him until he’s devouring and tasting every inch of your mouth. Your fingers scrape along the nape of his neck and dive into his hair.

With his free hand he grabs under your thigh, lifting your leg and opening you up wider, his fingers pushing deeper.

He pulls away to watch you, his eyes like fire before he removes his fingers and falls to his knees. Your shorts meet the floor before he slowly drags your panties down your legs, savoring every second.

You’re desperate for more of his touch, his fingers, his mouth, and as if he senses it he smiles as he looks up from between your legs.

“Do you like seeing me on my knees doll?”

He moves his face closer with a soft inhale, his beard brushing along the delicate skin of your inner thigh before he dips his tongue into you with a satisfied hum.

“You taste like you do.”

@book-dragon-13 @christywantspizza @dreamlessinparis @hiddles-rose @goldylions @jhangelface0523 @lookiamtrying @loki-laufeyson-1054 @flordeamatista​ @nano--raptor​ @rebel-stardust @randomfandompenguin @lokisasgardianvampirequeen​ @justile​ @seitmai @peaches1958

[randomshyperson]

Yellow Curtains - Chapter Seven - Wanda Maximoff Series

Summary: Wanda Maximoff's senior year at Novi Grad School is duly planned for her. She has good friends, good grades, and a good system to hide who she really is. Or, the one based on Evak from the Norway Skam series, where Wanda is queer and tries to survive the last year without anyone knowing about it.

Warnings: (+18), general warnings about language and violence, legal drug use, mentions of underage drinking, high school, internalized homophobia and discovery of sexuality, explicit mentions of mental disorders (bipolarity and depression), dysfunctional family, making out, and eventual smut.

Skamverse | Series | General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

--//--

Chapter Seven - The Truth

Četrtek 14:11 (Thursday 2:11 pm)

A beautiful landscape extended in front of Wanda. She adjusted the blanket around her shoulders and blew the tea inside the cup she held, staring at the view while she could hear the sounds of her family playing in the house behind her.

She had been miserable for days after the fight, and Natalya had come up with the suggestion that they all go south of Novi Grad, to the part of the country where Django and Marya, Wanda's aunt and uncle, lived. They had two children, Ana and Mateo, who were very naughty children and whom Wanda liked very much.

It was already the last day of Hanukkah, and since the Maximoffs were not Jewish, Wanda left the table and went to a high spot on the hill in the backyard, and took advantage of the privacy to pray in silence.

She was admiring the landscape now; it would be a lie to say she wasn't thinking of you. She has, without exception, been remembering you every day. But Carol's call the day after yours, made her stop phoning.

"She's not feeling very well right now, Wanda. We're still in the hospital. With the holidays, her psychiatrist is on vacation. And she can't use a cell phone here so don't expect her to call. Just, hold tight okay? Know that she is safe. And surrounded by people who love her. She'll talk to you when she can."

Carol didn't answer any of her questions, and in a way, only made new ones come up. But Wanda was trying not to despair over the whole thing, and being around her family again made her breathe easy.

Pietro was still acting strange, but to her surprise, he was the one who took the first act toward reconciliation.

"I wouldn't want to start the year at war with you." He said - The peace offering being fruit he picked from the Maximoff garden in a decorated pot that Mateo probably helped him build. Wanda offered him a small smile, leaving the tea on a makeshift log as a table, and accepted the fruits. Pietro understood that he could approach. "Did I interrupt your prayer?"

"No, I was done." She murmurs, tasting one of the strawberries. "Did you complete yours?"

He nods, looking at the landscape before turning his gaze back to her. "How are you?"

Wanda chuckles weakly, placing the pot of strawberries next to the tea to hug her own body under the blanket. 

"I keep wondering if I'm the problem." She confesses sincerely, and he stares at her the same minute, frowning. Wanda swallows dryly. "Maybe Y/N is right, and I am just too much."

"Wanda, you're not too much." He assures. "I'm sure she'll explain this story straight out, you can't jump to conclusions."

Her eyes filled with tears. "But it's like you said isn't it Pietro? What if I'm just playing the innocent, and not seeing what I'm doing? I called her a lot and lied and hurt her and now she hates me-"

"Hey, forget I said that I didn't mean it." He interrupts guiltily, pulling her by the shoulders. "You're amazing. You're my favorite person in the whole world. I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry, okay?"

She sniffles slightly, running a hand over her face to wipe her tears. "You're nothing like Dad, either. I shouldn't-"

He denies it with his head. "Yes, I am." He interrupts with a sad smile, "And it's okay. I'm more like him, and you're more like Mom. It's just the way things are. The difference is that he hurts us on purpose, and I never intended to do that to you." Pietro says. "Can you forgive me, Wanda?"

She nods, hugging him. Her twin responds at the same time, caressing her back over the blanket. 

Pietro sighs a moment later. "I don't know what will happen between you and Y/N, but know that you won't be dealing with this alone. I'm here for whatever you need, sestra."

Wanda sniffles against his chest.

The family on Wanda's mother's side had Romani origins and were at their most devoted to the pagan faith. When Natalya married a Jewish man, it was a shock to both sides. The marriage also ended in scandal - Erik turned up with a mistress and a daughter. The divorce was peaceful after all, but it was safe to say that nobody liked Erik very much at that lunch table.

When Django asked if the twins would like to join them in traditional Wiccan celebrations, Pietro immediately refused. He had always been more connected to his father's Jewish faith than Wanda ever had been, and the girl, although she said she didn't know the customs very well, was more curious and open than her twin.

Yulefest had already started, but it went on until the first day of the new year. There was a big celebration in the nearby village, and Wanda had a good enough time to keep her thoughts away from you for the next few days.

Pietro did not participate in the celebrations but was respectful about everything. When they finally left the house of the days in January, he even surprised Wanda with some items he had asked his aunt and uncle to take home as a present to Wanda - She kept them near her bed.

–//–

Sobota 08:50 (Saturday 08:50 am)

Wanda was checking the New Year's Instagram stories of all her friends when you texted her for the first time in weeks.

"Can we meet? I want to explain everything."

Her heart leaped, and it didn't stop beating hurriedly for many minutes. Her immediate reaction was to type yes, but she hit the brakes before hitting enter.

How dare you disappear and then demand a conversation? She can't remember the last time she slept properly, not since that conversation.

She threw the cell phone on the bed, leaving you with no answer, and went into her brother's room.

Pietro was playing video games in the bedroom, and Wanda had to nudge him to get him to take off his headphones.

"I've already had coffee-"

"Not that." She interrupts gesturing briefly. "Y/N texted me."

He pauses the game on the spot, looking at her in anticipation. "So?"

Wanda crosses her arms. "She wants to meet me."

"Oh, do you need a ride or something?"

"No, I don't know if I want to go."

Pietro makes a confused face. "What, but you've only been talking about her all holiday..."

She grunts impatiently. "Yeah, that's the point!" She retorts. "She's been driving me crazy. And now she can't just text me and expect me to come crawling back. It hardly  fair."

Pietro sighs. "I think you're overthinking it." He retorts, turning his attention back to the TV. "You'll keep suffering if you stay here, and you'll never find out what really happened if you don't go to her. Besides this, it's a chance to be honest, no? You can tell her you don't want the relationship to be like this or whatever."

Wanda sighs in defeat, knowing that Pietro is right.

"I'll take the car." She declares, receiving an indignant exclamation in protest.

"No, it was my Christmas present, not yours!" He yelled in protest, but Wanda had already grabbed the keys to the refurbished car gifted by Uncle Django from the door and fled from the twin through the house.

–//–

Sobota 9:15 (Saturday 9:15 am)

She was surprised that you got there first, and thought that maybe you were waiting for her and working up the courage to send her a message.

The place where you asked to meet her was the municipal park, less than a hundred meters from the Novi Grad Cathedral, where all the commotion started. It didn't make Wanda feel easy.

She parked the car and approached unhurriedly, watching from a distance your restless posture as you checked your cell phone for new messages and looked around for her.

When she was close enough, you spotted her. Your face immediately lit up, and Wanda decided to ignore the way her stomach jumped.

"Hi, Wands."

She kept her hands in her pockets. "Hi? Is that all you have to say to me?"

You grimace softly. "Well, that's how you start a conversation."

Wanda tilts her head to the side, a dry laugh escaping her lips. "Do you really want to make jokes now? After the way you treated me?"

You swallow dryly, denying with your head and taking a step forward. "No, I want to apologize." 

"Yeah, can you clarify for what? For the way, you spoke to me, or for not returning my calls? Or maybe for sending your sister to be your errand girl or instead of having the balls yourself!" Wanda accused angrily, but you only looked guilty yourself.

"Yeah, all of it." You retorted with a sigh. "I wanted to explain everything, but I just didn't have my cell phone and-"

"What the fuck are you talking about? You called me to say you wanted to take some time away from me! I almost died of worry over the damn church video, and instead of telling me what happened, you told me to mind my own business!" She feels like she is on the verge of tears, but you take another step forward.

"Wanda, I'm sorry!" You suddenly firmly. "I wanted to call you again, and take it all back the moment I turned off my cell phone, but the nurse came into my room and took it away and I there's nothing I could do about it."

Wanda shakes her head in confusion, pushing the emotion away. "What happened to you? Why are you in the hospital?"

You look away from hers, swallowing dryly. "It was a misunderstanding. They thought I was going to jump off the church."

Wanda frowned. "Weren't you?"

You laughed dryly. "I may do some acting but if I was going to kill myself it wouldn't be so dramatic."  

Wanda stares at you. "Don't joke about those things." She tells you seriously, and you swallow dryly.

"Sorry."

"What were you doing on top of the church anyway?" She questions, and you sigh in return before pulling your cell phone out of your pocket.

"I wanted to take a picture." You say typing on the device. "I was thinking about our conversation, about faith and all that. I found out that the Cathedral in Novi Grad was built exactly in the center of the city so that everyone would be the same distance from God. And I wanted to take a picture for you from the top. I just thought, even when we are apart, or if we have disagreements, I would always be close to your God, and in this way, to you."

The photo was beautiful, she could see all the architecture of the Cathedral, but Wanda looked at you with concern. "That's almost a hundred meters off the ground. You could have fallen."

You put your cell phone away, shrugging. "I've practice Parkour since I was a kid, it was no big deal."

"No, Y/N, that was very dangerous." Wanda insisted. "It was insanity to take that risk for a photo."

You cleared your throat, taking a step back. "Okay, I understand it wasn't safe, okay, I've already heard that from the police, and the doctors, I don't need to hear it from you." You retort uneasily. "I didn't come here to talk about the church, I need to tell you something."

Wanda sighs faintly, watching you intently. You are acting so strange, and she can't define it.

"What is it?"

You take a deep breath, and then let out a nervous laugh. "Damn, I... I had this whole speech prepared, but this is so hard." You mutter, more to yourself than to her. You clear your throat and take heart. "Well, all this time I've been trying to find the right way to tell you, but I didn't know how, and I never seemed to find the right moment. You know when... I get intense, too impatient, or impulsive?"

Wanda frowns slightly. "Like the church? Or now?"

You chuckle weakly, nodding. "Yeah. Or how suddenly I get kind of gloomy... sad?" You ask, and she confirms with her head. You swallow dryly. "Well, it took a while to get the official diagnosis in my teens, but this doctor in California came to a final opinion. I have an illness. Mental one. It's called BD, which stands for Bipolar Disorder. " You count staring at your feet. "And I don't know, I didn't want to tell you because when I'm feeling good, I believe that there is nothing wrong with my brain. I talk, laugh, and really enjoy the people around me and I can forget that it's temporary while it's happening." You continue with a sad laugh, "I do everything as I should. Exercise, and socialize, and I don't drink or smoke, and I take my meds, but... well, it will never go away. There is no cure, and it's genetic, so I'll have to deal with it for life. Which doesn't mean that people have to, so I didn't want to tell you. I kept imagining your reaction, the face you would make which is very similar to the one you are doing now..."

Wanda looks away, completely in shock. You sigh and wait. She swallows dryly. "I-I don't... I don't know what to say..."

You force a small smile, shaking your head. "You don't have to say anything." You assure her sadly. "I just wanted you to know that it wasn't about you, that you never did anything wrong. I have to go back. I ran away from the hospital to talk to you. See you at school, Wands."

She was too overwhelmed with the revelations to ask you to stay.

–//–

Sobota 15:07 (Saturday 3:07 pm)

Natasha was not surprised, because Carol told her about you as soon as she returned from vacation. Apparently, the Maximoffs were the last to know.

Wanda would have been angry, but she was busy researching what bipolar disorder was with her best friend.

A dozen or so sites opened with descriptions, explanatory videos, and infographics on the computer Natasha held in her hands, and Wanda was upside down, lying on the bed next to her friend.

“Some people with bipolar disorder will have episodes of mania or hypomania many times throughout their life; others may experience them only rarely. Signs and symptoms of a manic episode include excessive happiness, hopefulness, and excitement. Sudden and severe changes in mood, such as going from being joyful to being angry and hostile. Restlessness. Rapid speech and racing thoughts. Increased energy and less need for sleep. Increased impulsivity and poor judgment, such as suddenly quitting your job, ending a relationship…”

“Turn it off.” Wanda asks and Nat pauses the video immediately, watching her friend adjust herself on the bed correctly to bury her face in the pillows.

"Hey, don't be like that. It may look bad now but maybe you just need to look at it another way..."

Wanda chuckles humorlessly, pulling the pillow off her head to look at Nat. "How else would you have done it, Nat? Haven't you heard anything? Impulsiveness, poorly thought out decisions. Like leaving her boyfriend."

"Wanda..."

The brunette sits up. "No, I'm serious!" She insists on the verge of tears. "What if... what if she doesn't even like me? If it all just happened because of one manic episode? I'll end up alone, that's what will happen."

Nat shakes her head. "Wanda, what are you talking about? How would that determine her feelings?"

Wanda sniffles softly. "I don't know, Nat. But just think about it. You've seen the videos. What if she only believes she likes me, but I'm just a fantasy? She may have grown bored of Peter and put it into her head that she could have fun with a girl now. And then she'll get tired of me just like she did of him. And who knows how many people have gone through that."

Nat sighs. "But that's falling in love, isn't it?" She reasons. "You fall in love, and you don't know how long it will last. With or without bipolarity. The insecurity you have now is the same insecurity I have about Carol. We're together today, but I don't know what will happen when we go to college for example." Natasha says, and Wanda falls silent. Her friend smiles, leaving her notebook on the bed. "Think about this, sweetheart. I'll get us something to eat."

–//–

Ponedeljek, 10:20 (Monday, 10:20 am)

"Have you talked to her yet?"

Wanda looked away from the group of people surrounding you, probably peppering you with questions about the church video, to Clint, standing beside her with a soda she asked him to pick up on his way to the cafeteria. The boy had a snack in hand, which Wanda refused a piece.

"What would I say?" She retorts half upset, making room for Clint to sit next to her on the bench in the courtyard. Pietro was a bit back in the surroundings, playing soccer with other classmates, and Natasha was with Carol making out in some bathroom.

"You can start with hello." Clint jokes, but Wanda only returns him a small smile, playing with her straw. She's not very hungry all morning. He clears his throat lightly. "Hey, what's the matter? Is this about her condition?"

Wanda sighs, shrugging. "I've been researching about it, and I think I get more scared every second." She comments sincerely. "Maybe I'm not the best person to deal with it. I don't know if I could."

It's Clint's turn to sigh. "Hey, but it's always like that when you google something, isn't it? Put in a headache and it'll make it sound like you're with terminal cancer."

Wanda gives a weak laugh, muttering a low 'I guess'. She steals glances at you from across the yard again, laughing at something they say to you. You look fine. Normal and healthy. 

"I think you could manage, Wanda." Clint says. "In the end, it's just about liking someone, and you wouldn't have any fears if Y/N said they had diabetes or something."

Wanda twitches her nose. "That's hardly the same thing-"

"Isn't it?" Clint interrupts with an arched eyebrow. "If she had a cardiac problem, you'd have to be careful about physical stimulation next to her. No effort. You could say goodbye to outdoor walks with everyone. Any blood disease, and she wouldn't be able to go to some restaurants you like. She is bipolar, which means that sometimes she will be more intense, and sometimes she will need to be alone, or you to keep her company more than you usually do. It is no big deal. Sick people just want to be well, and there are medicines for that. Carol said she's been on treatment since she was fourteen, so I imagine she can help you deal with that too."

Wanda absorbs her friend's words for a long moment, and Clint offers her a small smile before returning to eating. A moment later, Wanda moves closer to rest her head on his shoulder, and hug him from the side, she keeps her gaze on you from across the room.

"When did you get so wise, Barton?" she jokes, making you laugh.

"I'm a smart boy." He retorts, and a moment later, lets out a soft exclamation, causing Wanda to turn away to look at him curiously. The boy pulls his cell phone out of his pocket. "I almost forgot I found something for you. My stepfather needs an office apprentice at the construction company. It's boring but money is money. Would you be interested?"

Wanda's eyes widen. "What, of course, Clint! Thank you!" She hugs him tightly, both of them laughing. He mutters that she would still have to do the interview and that it was nothing guaranteed, but Wanda is too happy to call.

Ponedeljek, 11:00 (Monday, 11:00 am)

"Let's sit in the back." Natasha whispered to her as soon as they entered the history class, and Wanda laughed because she knew her friend was only asking to keep texting with her girlfriend.

Nat took the window seat, and Wanda was taking off her coat to sit beside her when you entered the room. Your gazes met from the doorway, but before she could smile at you, someone was whistling loudly and attracting your attention.

"Romeo's back from the dead everyone." Mocked Ikaris, one of your colleagues. A good portion of the room laughed, and you lowered your face, holding your backpack tighter. 

But the boy's teasing didn't go unpunished - The guidance counselor Mrs. Harkness was standing behind you at the door, precisely escorting you into the room, and the boy turned pale when she pointed her finger at him. 

"Come into my office, now." She ordered, and he came out clutching his backpack, bumping his shoulders into yours. The room filled with burbling, but Agatha called for silence. "We do not tolerate bullying or harassment of any kind at this institute, am I clear? Any mention of incent before Christmas will be punishable. Good day."

But Agatha's request may have made things worse, because those who were not aware of the video, spent the class searching for the matter and sharing it with their classmates. Wanda noticed how you seemed to cringe with each nasty whisper that circulated.

As soon as the bell rang, you practically jumped out of your seat and some people chuckled from the escape.

"You should talk to her." Natasha told Wanda, but it wasn't even necessary, because the girl was already grabbing the materials and going after you.

As the period ended, the halls filled up quickly, and Wanda had a little trouble getting through the crowd of students and catching up with you in the outer courtyard.

"Y/N, wait." She urged and had to tap your wrist to get you to stop.

You turned to her in irritation. "What do you want?"

Wanda was taken aback by the aggressiveness, but she couldn't blame you. Not after the taunts. "Hey, don't listen to those assholes, okay? They don't know shit."

You laugh dryly, looking away. "Right, because it wasn't the least bit freaky what I did. You said it yourself, it was dangerous and stupid."

Wanda frowns. "Yeah, but I didn't know..."

"That I was crazy? Well, you know now. And it clearly bothers you, because you've been ignoring me all morning!"

"N-no, I just-"

"Look, Wanda, I don't need your coup de grace." You interrupt her. "If you don't want anything to do with me, just say so, stop being a fucking pussy."

Wanda opens her mouth in shock, and you roll your eyes. She grimaces. This attitude makes her blood boil. "Be reasonable, you told me something meaningful, but I still don't know how to give you an answer. I'm still trying to understand what it all means."

You snort angrily. "I told you the truth because I'm in love with you, that's what it means!" You suddenly confess, and Wanda feels her heart stop. "And you're clearly just a fucking coward who can't handle it and doesn't feel the same way. Stop wasting my time."

"I-I didn't... I never said-."

"That's pretty simple, though, Wanda." You cut her off again, adjusting the backpack on your shoulder. "If you felt the same way, my bipolarity wouldn't matter. But you don't. Fuck this, I don't need you. Or anyone."

"Y/N..."

But you practically ran out, and Wanda had no way to call you back.

Ponedeljek, 14:05 (Monday, 02:05 pm)

With no sign that you were back at school, Wanda was leaving the courtyard alone.

Pietro was going to Clint's house to play video games, and although Nat and Carol had invited her to their apartment, Wanda hardly wanted to see her friends making out.

She was finishing putting away her belongings in the locker when Steve Rogers approached her.

"Wanda, glad I caught up with you." He said half uneasily, looking around. "Has your brother gone home already?"

"Yeah, he and Clint went to Barton's together." She replied. Steve sighed.

"Well, I guess by now you must have heard about but Tony managed to get the recording of the market."

Wanda frowned immediately. "What are you talking about?"

Steve makes a confused expression. "The fight, at Nat's birthday?"

Wanda's eyes widen in amazement. "Wait, is it serious? I thought the recording was just a rumor! How did Tony get it, and more importantly, who hit my brother?"

Steve hesitates. "Look, if Pietro didn't tell you, maybe I shouldn't..."

"Spit it out, Rogers." She demands seriously, and Steve swallows dryly before pulling his cell phone out of his pocket. He searches for a moment for the video in the chat room with Tony Stark and then holds out the device for Wanda to see.

It's a security video from a market parking lot. Wanda recognizes Pietro laughing and talking with Barry Allen outside, imagining that Clint and Bucky were inside buying the beers.

And then Barry is grabbing Pietro by the collar of his shirt and kisses him on the mouth. Pietro is clearly surprised but corresponds before pushing him away with a giggle. It all lasts less than five seconds. There is a car stopped a few feet away from them, and from it, three identical boys that Wanda recognizes from the Synagogue get off. 

"Hey, fags!" The audio is precarious but still audible, and it is the tallest boy who steps forward. Wanda thinks his name is Jake, but she's not sure. Of the triplets, Wanda only liked the shy Steven. Jake laughs when the two boys turn around. "Oh my god, is that you Maximoff? Does your daddy know what you're up to?"

Pietro freezes, completely terrified. Jake advances against him, so Barry pushes him away. And at that, the fight escalates.

It's left to Steven to pull the brothers away when Bucky and Clint leave the market and interfere in the fight, the market owner armed with a bat. The action doesn't even last 3 minutes, but Pietro is the one who ends up the most injured.

Steve puts his cell phone away. "Pietro didn't want to press charges, he didn't even want to tell us who the boys were." 

"It's because of our father." Wanda explains, pressing her hands to her face for a moment. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

"Hey, Tony said he's not going to do anything he doesn't want to." Steve says placing a hand on her shoulder. "But these things shouldn't go unpunished. We have the video, but the complaint has to come from the victim."

"I'll talk to him." Wanda assures. "Thanks, Steve."

"Anytime."

Ponedeljek, 20:31 (Monday, 08:31 pm)

"You took your time."

"Jesus, Wanda!" Pietro gasped in fright, having opened the bedroom door to his sister waiting for him inside.

Wanda rolled her eyes, and got up from the bed, dropping her cell phone and crossing her arms.

"Close the door."

He raised an eyebrow. "What's that, are you going to kill me or something?"

She rolls her eyes, and uncrosses her arms, moving him out of the way to close the door herself. Pietro looks at her with confusion.

"You're going to press charges against Jake Lockley." 

Pietro turns pale before his face flushes with irritation. "How did you... No, you know what, it doesn't matter. You're a damn meddler, aren't you?"

"Pietro-"

"I'm serious! I told you to forget that story, why do you care anyway?" He retorted angrily, stepping aside to take off his sweater and shoes. Wanda crossed her arms.

"You are my brother! I care about you, and whether you are safe outside our house!"

He rolled his eyes stubbornly, but Wanda stepped forward. "I'm serious. This isn't right, Pietro. He can't get away with it!"

"Daddy would kill me!" Pietro squirms with tears in his eyes. Wanda's eyes widen. "You don't... It's different for you, okay? He may say those horrible things, but you're still his little girl. He wouldn't hurt you. But me-"

"Except it's not like that." Wanda insists seriously. "That's the fear talking. Daddy has already hurt me, you know that. And he would have hit me again in that restaurant if you hadn't said anything." She recalls, and the boy looks away. Wanda sighs, moving closer. "Pietro, is that why you told him I liked girls? To find out how he would react when you told him about yourself?"

He nodded sheepishly. "I like girls too, Wanda. I just...I thought I could pretend I didn't care about boys because I'm into Crystal. But that's not how it works. No matter what I do, this part just won't go away."

"Oh, Pietro, there's nothing wrong with liking both. Come here." She sits down next to him, hugging him. He sniffles, seeming to finally relax after many days. "We'll deal with this together, okay, and with Mom, too."

Pietro sobs softly, but nods in acceptance. Wanda holds him until he stops crying.

[cowboyjen68]

Hi Jen.

I hope you're well. I was hoping you can possibly give me some general life advice?

I have the possibility to finally move away from home and live with a friend I've known for 8 years (I am 26). My homelife is allright and my dad is accepting of my sexuality but mildly transphobic to the point where I'm not out and don't feel comfortable bringing it up.

I have saved up a sum of money (above 5k) to fund this move but the only problem is I don't currently have a steady job. (I've freelanced for the past 3 but it's not enough to cover rent)

We'd be sharing the apartment and to get it I need to be on the lease. The idea of signing for something without steady income to cover it makes the alarm bells go off in my head. Me and my friend have discussed this and she assured me that she would cover the rent completely until I actually move in/find steady employment (her current apartment costs the same). We've also discussed what would happen if she were no longer able to afford the place and the full responsibility would fall on me, but she doesn't see that happening as she has her family to fall back on for that if she was suddenly unfit to work.

Am I right to still be wary? Should I just go along and sign the lease even though I'm really scared of the possible consequences? Should I just stop overthinking this and just enjoy this really good thing that's about to happen??

please let me know what you think

As a parent of several 25 year olds (3) and as a former 26 year old (long ago) I would say it is time to move out and try life as an independent adult. It sounds like you have a decent relationship with your parent(s) so if things went terribly wrong you would have a place to land.

There is never any guaranty in life that a roommate situation or even a living alone rental situation will go smoothly or as planned. It is almost a sure thing you and her will have to navigate some unforeseen incompatibilities or iron out some quirks to make cohabiting comfortable for both of you. It is part of life to learn how to negotiate needs and boundaries with other people. It starts as we become teens with our parents and then, for me, college roommates and then apartment living with 5 gay guys in the very early 90's.

I think you will find that the move to share rental space and responsibility will be mutually beneficial to both of you. It is best to not be financially reliant on each other, basically, with a short grace period to get moved and your feet under you, you should work to pay your fair share. It is a great idea that in the interim while you seek gainful employment you use the extra time to give a little more effort to the household. Extra cleaning, errands, cooking is a way to show you appreciate the short reprieve from being a full financial partner while you get settled.

Having a roommate can mean learning to negotiate what is fair in payment, cleaning, and other responsibilities but it is also nice to have someone around. Having a sound relationship with a roommate means a built in support. She gives you a ride when the bus won't do and you give her gas money. When she wants to travel for a few days you are keeping the house safe, watering plants and bringing in the mail. When one of you is sick the other can pick up some of the cleaning slack until recovery.

When I rented my first place with those 5 men I had just started a new job, fresh from my undergrad and going to grad school. I paid my fair share and contributed by cleaning the kitchen and shoveling the drive during snowy times. When I lost my first job I only had enough money saved for half the rent. I was not instantly homeless because my roommates picked up my share and in turn I did some extra errands and cleaning for the house. I worked VERY hard to get a new job and did after two weeks. I often wanted to quit that flower shop job but did not because I LIKED the independence and I enjoyed not owing anyone anything.

I believe you will find that moving on your own will give you much more drive to find a job with consistent earnings. It feels good to feel stable and be an equal contributor. Having your name on the lease insures you have some skin in the game. It ensures that you ARE accountable to pay your part AND save for future mishaps. If two people are working together to make living more affordable it is a wonderful partnership.

This world is not build for single income independent living. It has not been as long as I have been alive (54 years) and perhaps never has been. Mutually shared space and financial responsibility is a long standing survival tactic. And learning to communicate and navigate in such situations is a beneficial skill.

[fakeosirian]

post-school school/career headcanons (non-exhaustive, will make a part two eventually), for your consideration:

nina goes to undergrad for literature with a concentration in creative writing. hasn't picked a medium yet, and regardless it's not like making it in screenwriting is that much easier than traditional publishing, so she writes by night and is an office temp by day (she is aware of the irony of being the "permanent new girl" as a job description. it was funny the first time someone pointed it out. the first time.)

fabian gets a bachelor's in history and immediately goes to grad school for...library/information science. he has to spend a good bit explaining to people that yes, that's a real major, and no, "the books don't start reacting with each other -- a science is a system of ideas, not just when something blows up." he works as a TA and is torn between if he wants to stay in academia or find more "practical" work (this is where i mention this is background work for a story where he goes back to the school to teach <3)

amber might go to a post-secondary fashion school, but even if she does, she's absolutely going for the connections and dropping out the second she gets an industry job, most likely in nyc (which considering how well off she is...probably didn't take long). idk she's thriving (though if she's surrounded by work/kind of by herself socially i could see her getting to a breaking point and claiming she needs roommates to afford rent (lie) just so she can have people around lol)

patricia actually DOES become a guidance counselor. LOL. i can't resist this one -- more specifically, i could see her going to a liberal arts undergrad without a direction in mind but knowing she "needs to figure one out," taking a couple psychology classes, realizing She Cares, declaring a major in psych, and after discounting the clinical track (too close to med school) and the research track (too creepy), she ends up working on an MA in social work

alfie seems like a guy who would have his fingers in like 5 different pies at all times -- depending on who he's talking to/if he feels he needs to impress them, he says one of the following: "business partner" (jerome's business -- more on that later -- alfie's more of an ideas/production guy than a """business guy""" but you don't need to know that if he's telling you this), freelance film crew (prop master/art department), Professional Artist (has a studio where he makes the stuff he uses for his various pursuits), comic author (i feel like he has a weird janky webcomic he makes for himself. i can't explain it. he has a couple thousand readers), etc. he's always picking up a new thing and finding a way to use it until he gets bored and does something else. he just tells his dad "jerome and i are making A Profit" to keep him off his back

speaking of jerome: i've always been fond of the idea that he and his dad go into business together at some point, so it'd be some sort of thing they could do together that alfie's artistic skills would be of use for. despite the fact that jerome very much would like to bend some rules here and there, his dad is not keen on the idea of going back to prison so unfortunately, no white collar crimes for him. (for now.) they're doing well all things considered, but jerome refuses to get a job to fund the business ("what's the point in doing all this if i'm going to let someone else be my boss anyway"), so he's definitely having to find creative ways to squeeze more money out of the business to, y'know. Survive

i'm not 100% settled on this joy idea but communications/PR? definitely gets her start somewhere more corporate, but i could see her getting creeped out by stuff she'd have to spin/help cover for, so she switches to nonprofit (which is also depressing, arguably moreso sometimes, but it's a bit easier to stomach). isn't directly involved in jerome's business, but she does "consult" (not without something in return. preferably, y'know. Money. but sometimes she starts a casual conversation without realizing she should have written up a contract first, and that's the only way that jerome will actually pay you)

[disregardcanon]

okay, so a brief history of my headcanon for rava and kendall’s relationship

 i think that kendall and rava probably met at harvard. while he and stewy WERE partying pretty hardcore, i think that hero-complex kendall was also trying (and mainly failing) to do some social justice work and in a very hardcore “i hate my dad” phase. rava, who was from a moderately wealthy family and studying to be an attorney, saw him and was kinda entranced by how passionate he was.

they wrote articles together for the harvard lampoon that were some biting and sometimes insightful social commentary. kendall, at the time, was very against working for waystar and they spent a lot of time spitballing with stewy about what they could do. stewy was very profit minded so he ended up noping out of the project before he and ken had even graduated.

she and kendall got married right after graduation from undergrad half because they were very in love and half because they wanted to upset their respective families. rava continues grad school and kendall flails his way through a few different corporate jobs, trying to pitch ideas that seemed ethical but weren’t really practical and then getting into fights with people about not understanding his “vision”. that ended with him being fired from each when business bosses received confirmation that logan roy wouldn’t come for their heads if they fired his son.

when it became clear that employment elsewhere... wasn’t really going to work out for him, kendall sunk deeper and deeper into addiction as rava had her back turned with her last semester of law school and studying for the bar.

he makes a habit of using big, showy gestures of affection whenever she’s getting too frustrated by his behavior. it works well for a while.

halfway through rava’s semester of studying for the bar, kendall had an incident bad enough that she had to cart him off to rehab and it set her back a semester before she could take the bar. (which she did pass! yay!)  after he got back from rehab, they decided that he’d take his dad up on the offer of a job at waystar to “get him back on his feet”, and they started turning their attentions towards having kids instead.

kendall’s new big project, immediately, became kids. they decided that they like BOTH the options of adoption and having their own bio kids, so they started trying for bio kids a lot, but also doing research on good ways to adopt kids.

kendall did about half of that, with jess helping him stay focused and actually doing most of it. with his white savior complex, a transracial adoptee from india was a pretty obvious choice. a few months after sophie’s adoption was finalized they got sophie and kendall, for a while, put all his efforts into being The Best Dad TM.

it’s great while it lasts, but the increase in kendall’s time off work with waystar led to some pretty harsh criticism from his dad including “what have you got a wife for, anyway, if you’re doing all the raising? mister mom gotta go home and take care of the baby? pa-fucking-thetic” so he tries to focus more on work, which stresses him out, and he’s pulled between wanting to be an awesome dad and make rava happy but also Oh God My Dad Thinks I’m a Loser and i want to stick it to him but also make him proud of me, and it leads to a lot of him not doing anything that makes him happy or proud and just slipping back into alcohol.

this period does result in them getting a consistent nanny instead of babysitters, though, so at least the kids are a bit better cared for.

the slope leads down for a few years until it’s at the point where he can’t get off the couch for sophie’s 2nd grade meet the author day and rava makes him try seeing a therapist. again. it gets worse instead of better as he’s pulled between work, dad, and his wife and kids. logan keeps trying to pressure rava into leaving her job as a civil rights attorney just as he keeps trying to fold shiv into the company, and it causes some additional tension. and this, of course, is on top of kendall now being groomed as logan’s successor.

add in: iverson’s autism diagnosis and kendall absolutely refusing to confront what it means both for iverson AND himself, and he starts slipping back into the hard stuff. he’s erratic and impossible to be around and rava finds bits of coke on iverson’s ipad, which is when she tells kendall he has to move out.

if he can get himself cleaned up and show her that he’s ready to move back in with them, then she’ll let him. (spoiler alert: he never does this, even though he tries)

[dulcewrites]

Ok, I felt like writing some more of Myrah’s dynamic with her parents since I’ve written stuff with her and and greens. Also show that though their relationship is healthier than whatever the greens got going on, it’s not perfect by any means. I’m using the fools rush in au with that. I do want to write something in the og modern au that involves both the greens (and blacks) and everlanes. I probably will this weekend 🫶🏽

Baby Mine

It took six positive pregnancy test, throwing up her breakfast, a panicked voicemail to Maris, and a google search for Myrah to finally come to terms with being with child.

The six pregnancy test because ‘maybe the first five were wrong’. The voicemail, which she never sends to anyone, because her best friend is apparently immune to picking up the phone before 10:30 in the morning. And the google search…

It started with searching a firm, which led her down a rabbit hole. She saw the last name Targaryen, a bunch of businesses, and a family net with a bunch of zeros.

She threw up again.

Not sure is that time was the about the revelation or the baby. Baby.

Maris eventually comes over, still in her pajamas. When Myrah showed her the google history, Maris could not help but laugh.

“Only you would manage to get yourself accidentally knocked up by millionaire.”

“He didn’t say he was one,” Myrah mumbled into her pillow.

“Considering you only spent a night with him and the outcome, I’m assuming you two were not talking much,” Maris shrugs.

“He has a Great Dane named after a god.”

“Oh, really,” Maris fakes a sarcastic gasp. “He’s totally dad material.”

Myrah throws a pillow at her for that.

“Look babe, you didn’t know this guy’s last name till you searched his job. He doesn’t even have social media. What person doesn’t have social media these days? He could be a killer for all we know,” she rubs Myrah’s back. “I’ll make an appointment at the clinic. You know, the one that Wylla went to freshman year after her… little joyride during spring break. Everything will be taken care of.”

When Myrah doesn’t answer right away, Maris’ positive resolve falters. She sighs. “But I can’t make an appointment because you are thinking about keeping it.”

Myrah rolls over on her back, turning her head to her side dresser. On sit a framed photo of her family at her university graduation. Her grad cap on Esme, her parents kissing her on each cheek. They were so proud of her.

“I think I need to tell my parents.”

She turns back to Maris who gives her a painful look.

“Amal is gonna…”

Myrah holds back a shudder at the thought of how her parents will react.

She wears a sundress, flowy and breezy. Myrah had begun to become paranoid about showing. She looks in the mirror and sees the same body she’s had almost her whole life but she feels as if her mother will be able to sniff it on her.

“Is Essie here,” she wrings her hands together nervously.

“No, Esme at a friend’s house for a school project,” her mom walks her into the living room.

Good. Only two people to disappoint.

She can’t keep eye contact with either of them for a moment. Her mom tries to give her tea which she stares at for a moment.

I don’t even know what pregnant women can drink. Is caffeine bad? God I really fucking want alcohol, not caffine.

“Umm well, I want to talk you guys about something important,” she swallows. “I think - well, I am umm…”

Myrah looks at her parents staring at her anticipation. Her sweet parents, who have done nothing but try and do right by her and her sister. She knows she could not be a quarter of how good they are, not this way. Maybe Maris was right. Thinking about keeping the baby was a bad idea.

She mumbles something softly. Gerald frowns. “What sweet pea?”

“I’m… pregnant.”

Amal is the first react, a small chuckle but with no humor behind it. Gerald just looks confused. His thick dark brows furrowing as newly formed wrinkles settle into his olive skin.

“Pregnant,” Amal repeats with a blank face. “You’ve never even mentioned seeing anyone.”

The tremble of Myrah’s lip gives it all away. Amal throws her hands up before going to leave.

“Mommy, please let me-“

Amal gives her a look, the look, and Myrah clasps her mouth shut. Amal stalks off upstairs with Myrah and Gerald watching in silence. Both flitch when they hear a door slam. Her eyes instantly go down to her hands in her lap, tears blurring her vision. Hot tears splash on her face as she feels the spot in the couch dip next to her.

It was how things always went. If one of the girls fucked up, Gerald would be there with big sad disappointed eyes. A shoulder to cry on. Amal was the problem solver. But there has never been a problem like this.

“I - I don’t know what to say,” Gerald sighs, running a hand over his face. “But you need to talk with your mother.”

Her gaze lifts up to the hallway that leads to the stairs. She feels like a being taken up to her execution. She nods curtly before getting up. Myrah’s feet a little numb as she climbs up the stairs. She thought her mom would be in her parent’s room, but she noticed their double doors being open.

But the door to her childhood room is closed.

She knocks but gets no response. Taking a deep breath, she brings herself to turn the knob in and peak her head in.

Amal is sitting on her bed, hugging a teddy bear pillow.

“Mom, can I come in?”

She looks at Myrah and shrugs her in. Myrah closes the door behind her. She gingerly climbs on the bed next to her mom. There is a painful amount of silence in the room.

“Mom I am so-“

“Do you remember your first art show appearance,” Amal interrupts her silently.

Myrah blinks surprised, but nods slowly. It was a 13 and under competition. The winner recieved a year’s supply of paint from the store that hosted it. She had painted a mural of her parents and sister. Esme had gotten into the red paint one day, said she wanted to paint her face like mom does.

“My sweet girl,” Amal sighs. Myrah’s shoulders slump.

“I’m still your sweet girl mom. I’m just…”

Myrah doesn’t know what she is right now. Her eyes drift to the various paintings and drawings around her room. The cheerleading trophies, and academic achievements. She understands why it feels like a loss of something to her mom. Maybe a quiet innocence that’s been stripped away from all of them now.

She’s either going to become a mom or make one of the hardest decisions someone can. Either way, she knows she can’t do it alone. Even if curling into a ball and hiding away is all she wants to do at this moment.

“I know you are upset, and you have every right to be but I need you and dad right now,” her voice cracks a bit as she feels tears in her eyes. “Because I really don’t know what to do.”

“Oh, my love.”

Amal moves the teddy bear away and pull Myrah into her arms. She cries in her mother’s arms; she’s never felt more like a baby herself.

Her mom just rubs her back silently.

“Are you going to tell… the father? Does he know,” it sounds painful coming out her mouth.

Myrah just frowns and sniffles. “I really don’t know.”

They back to more silence till Amal speaks again.

“Is he hot at least?”

“Mom!”

“What,” Amal exclaims back. “If you’re possibly going to make me a grandmother this young, I would at least like to know that half the dna is coming from someone attractive.”

Myrah thinks about a sweet half smile, and shy blue eyes.

“Yeah, mom. I think he’s pretty handsome.”

Amal sighs, and kisses the top of her head l.

“Well, at least that’s nice.”

Myrah wonders if she should tell her about the other thing. The worth a small fortune thing. She worries that would be implying that she would, or possible child, would be getting any of it. In the warmth of her moms, she decides to keep that part to herself.

For now….

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball Super 043

Hey, shut up!  There’s a baby!

So Goku isn’t feeling well lately.   He’s got no appetite, and when he flies, he has difficulty steering, which sounds scary as hell.  Chi-Chi suggests he go consult King Kai, but Goku’s Instant Transmission power doesn’t work very well either.  I mean, that could lead to some pretty horrifying scenarios, now that I think of it.  Like, Cronenburg movie horrifying, let’s leave it at that.  Fortunately, he just keeps teleporting to the wrong places until he finally ends up where he wants to go.

King Kai diagnoses Goku with “Delayed Onset Energy Disorder”, which is just a Dragon Ball Z version of Delayed Onset Muscle Soreness.  That’s a real-world condition where you get sore after overdoing it at the gym.  People used to think this was caused by a buildup of lactic acid in the muscles, but this was later proven to be false.  Anyway, that Bluper Kaio-ken Goku used against Hit in Episode 39 and 40 was probably what caused it, and now Goku cant’ control his ki.  I’m assuming the “Delayed Onset” part was just to explain why this didn’t bother him during Episodes 41 and 42.  King Kai recommends Goku rest until he’s back to normal, except he still has to teleport back home, so that’s kind of a problem, right?

So yeah, he makes it home, but he also crashes through the whole house, so the Son family has to crash at Gohan and Videl’s house.

But Gohan’s not at home at the moment, because he and Videl are having dinner with some academic big shots about some future career thing.  I can’t fault Toriyama/Toei/Shueisha for not being too interested in the details of Gohan’s scientific career.  I mean, that’s not what the show is about, and I’m not sure it’s worth the trouble of explaining how this works in Dragon World.  Maybe this is exactly how it works in the real world, and I just never found out because I settled for a Bachelor’s Degree. 

My point is that it’s kind of cheap to just have Gohan in these vague conferences, or having meals with vague characters who talk about how “impressive” his work has been without ever explaining what he’s doing.  I’m pretty sure Dragon Ball Super: Super Hero was the first time they confirmed that Gohan is a professional biologist, and that movie came out in 2022.  I mean, I think that was what everyone had guessed, but in 2016, I couldn’t tell you for certain whether he had finished college or grad school, or if he was already working in the private sector. 

Anyway, he had to skip the Destroyer Invitational Tournament because of an important meeting he had to go to that same day, and this episode suggest that his attendance is paying off.  He’s supposed to get this big job offer soon, and Videl supplying an autographed picture of Mr. Satan doesn’t hurt either. 

Oh, and Gohan’s let hand looks like ass in this scene.  We’re through the worst of Dragon Ball Super’s slipshod visuals, but it never ceases to amaze me how often I find off-model stuff without even trying.  We’re 43 episodes into this thing and they’re still finding their level.

The point of this scene is that Goku is calling to let Gohan know they’re at his house and why.  And since Gohan repeats everything Goku says for exposition, he gets overheard by the Pilaf Gang, who are just... here at this restaurant for no apparent reason.

I miss my dad a lot.

Anyway, Piccolo’s been at the house looking after Pan, and he doesn’t trust Chi-Chi and Goku to handle things without him, so he sticks around.  Later, Piccolo takes the baby and her sick grandpa up to the roof to hang out, because Piccolo. 

Pan is fascinated by the stars, and Goku offers to fly her up for a closer look when he’s feeling better, but for now he promises her that she’ll become a Super Saiyan someday and see them for herself.  Then she calls him “da-da” which bothers him because he’s “grampa”, but Pan can’t say that yet, I guess. 

Outside, Pilaf has this whole scheme lined up, but I honestly don’t understand any of it.  Basically they want to get the others away from the house so they can beat up Goku with their new robot suit.  Since Goku’s powerless, they figure this is their best chance to finish him.  I’ll be honest, I’ve completely lost the plot with the Pilaf Gang.   Trust me, I’ve been paying attention here.  Part of the reason I wanted to re-watch this show was to try to get a handle on what they were doing, but it’s no good.  None of this makes any sense. 

Okay, so their last appearance before Dragon Ball Super was in the filler arc at the end of Dragon Ball.  It’s been roughly twenty-five years since then.  Now they show up in the Battle of Gods arc as children.  The movie explained that they once used the Dragon Balls to make themselves younger, but DBS never bothers with any of that.  So if you’re going in cold, and Dragon Ball Super is the only one you’ve warched, then all you know for sure is that these nutty kids really want Dragon Balls and they seem to want to murder Goku for no apparent reason. 

Anyway, their plan goes haywire for some reason.  I think it’s because they saw people leaving the house to search for Pan.  As it turns out, Pan came to them, and in their haste to bug out, Mai brought Pan aboard.  Pilaf wants her to toss the baby out, because he won’t do it himself.  In his ranting and raving, he damages the controls, which causes their robot to shoot straight up into space.

Then Pan busts out with all the Pilaf Gang hanging on to her foot for dear life.

She can finally see the stars, up close, although I suppose the view isn’t much different.  Then she remembers all her stuff is back home, so she flies back.

The Pilaf Gang gets deposited in a tree, or something. 

Goku and the others return from their search to find Pan sleeping on the couch like nothing happened at all.  What a li’l stinker.

Then Gohan and Videl come home and explain that they offered Gohan the job, but he turned it down because the hours were too much.  Also, his daugther is a super-strong flying baby, so that complicates things.  Pan starts saying “grampa” to Goku, so she learned a new word.  And that’s basically it. 

Honestly, as a story, this really didn’t go anywhere.  Goku gets over his DOED by the next episode, and while this was a cute outing for Pan, I’m not sure what the point of it was.  They might have done more with the Gohan plot, since he’s the only character who made any sort of decision, but I’m not sure how that could work.  I’m not eager for a five minute scene where Gohan and Videl discuss the pro’s and con’s of taking some new job. 

Well, at least the baby’s cute.

[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.”

also on ao3

[rothjuje]

The kids were up crazy late last night. Cannot wait to get these twins back in cribs. I need my nights back, I need my mornings back (hence all the recent posts, I’ve been consistently nap-trapped since we got here last Friday).

Exciting finds: two unopened boxes of the blue bathroom floor tile. Should I save in case we need for repairs or do something fun with them? Also found a huge blackberry bush. They were common in CA and part of my childhood so I am very excited.

Not so exciting find: poison ivy. In several places, up the side of our deck being one. Seems like it will be a pain to get rid of. Neighbor warned me that it was an issue here but I hadn’t seen any until yesterday. Sigh.

Got the AC unit in! It’s pretty ugly and doesn’t work very well but I will take 80 over 86 degrees inside, thank you. We had to cancel the furniture piece that never came anyway, so there’s nothing to keep it safe from the toddlers who are obsessed with it. But it’s supposed to be 99 today with 56% humidity so I’m trading one sanity for another.

I realized for the first time this am that Justin doesn’t want all the things because his upbringing, he wants them because his peers have them. His peers are all aerospace engineers in Texas and Alabama (lots of aerospace there). Out of all his friends only two are married with kids, and both wives work full time. And they have big houses with nice cars.

But they didn’t have to spend money on IVF either, which was a huge expense/drained our savings at the time (we have also spent 2k just to keep the embryos frozen since making them).

Anyway. Justin went to high school in NJ, undergrad in FL, and grad in CA. So most people he has kept in touch with are in aerospace. A lot of my peers financially struggle to stay home with their babies or financially struggle to afford to live in the west coast.

Although, I do think upbringing ties into it. We had money growing up. My parents also had Big Stress. Big Wins and Big Vacations but also Big Stress. They both worked full time and did real estate projects on the weekends. They weren’t around much, but neither were Justin’s parents who also both worked full time (his mom was there for dinner every night though and had a more flexible schedule).

I used to tell people I wanted to be poor when I grew up. I thought money bred stress and bigger problems. What I wanted then is what I want now; a simple life. I want to be present for my children. I don’t want Big Stress or Big Wins or Big Vacations. I want to bake with my kids and frolic in the yard picking berries and whatever else I can manage to grow. (My parents weren’t around as much but they made it count when they were, I have tons of memories with my mom of berry picking and hatching chicks from eggs and dinners and camping with my dad etc)

Justin didn’t grow up with big money or big stress, so he doesn’t understand that to have big money you make sacrifices, and that sacrifice is typically your sanity. Or your family. Or both.

Either way, Justin and I were lucky to grow up safe, loved, and very privileged. And our kids will too, even if I have to leave them to go back to work to afford to live here. I think getting to stay home with your babies is the ultimate privilege and I never take it for granted.

[beezelbubbles]

Following up on that reblog about asks.

You mentioned that you used to live in the valley. How long did you live here and what drew/pushed you away?

I was born and raised there. So of course I couldn't wait to get away for college, though I only made it to San Antonio. And then I went back for grad school at what was still UT Pan Am, and then away for 3 years for my husband's grad school and then directly back because that's where my husband happened to get a job. I haven't lived there in nine years, but I still say home when I'm talking about it. So I don't feel like I truly moved away until I was 30.

The Valley that existed when I was a teenager in the 90s is gone. Long gone. Like back then the big bookstore was a tiny Walden's at La Plaza mall. (And I spent so many hours there.) So a lot of why I wanted to leave isn't even relevant anymore. I just wanted out and I wanted more. It was also probably fueled by some internalized racism, but also the fear that despite being told I could do anything, I would go to Pan Am and then get my teaching certification, and then just teach there in the Valley and have the exact same life my parents did.

And at the time it was like culture? What culture? This is just home. Oh boy I had no idea. (But also in my defense we were SO small town back then. It was *only* our weirdo border culture. It did start getting better in my late 20s, but my mom was still pushing for me to stay there and teach.) Then raising my kid largely in the Midwest made it so hard to keep them in touch with our culture. It was all stuff I never had to think about. Mariachis, and folklorico, and all the stuff at the history museum my aunt would take me to and just hearing Spanish day to day... and that's all been on me. Before I left, I never had to think about being Mexican because it was all right there. I had to a little in college, because it is a very white school, but still proud of its place in San Antonio. But moving to Minnesota? Even though I am white latina, for the first time ever I was VERY aware I'm a minority, and in a way that didn't always feel safe. (Highly ironic as I got so so many instances of "Well at least you're safe now that you moved here." Like, one fuck you I never said we left because it was unsafe. Two fuck your confederate flag sticker. Do you even know what side Minnesota was on in that war? Three we literally have one of the lowest murder rates in the country.) And I responded to that by becoming more proud of my heritage and like aggressively latina. I worked on my Spanish (still lousy), and I learned to make all the foods I took for granted that I could just go out for. So I think that's what is always going to keep me in central and south Texas. It's safe and it's home and it's where my family is. (Dad's family has been out in Starr county since, from what I can tell, about the time Texas became Texas.)

So that was a very long winded way of saying Puro 956, but I needed to live somewhere else. Four hours away from my mom is also a bonus. I love her but... we need space. The dream is we win the lotto and move back and open a really nice theatre and get Broadway touring shows to come down because it is absolutely absurd that it is the fifth largest metroplex in Texas but there is no big theatre, and tickets will always be pay what you can, and we'll do special shows for all the high school kids. But I probably won't be moving back til that happens.

[alwaysalreadyangry]

I posted 965 times in 2022

210 posts created (22%)

755 posts reblogged (78%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@nostalgebraist-autoresponder

@alwaysalreadyangry

@raedear

@aphroditestummyrolls

@haremask

I tagged 921 of my posts in 2022

Only 5% of my posts had no tags

#film - 136 posts

#lit - 100 posts

#gifs - 93 posts

#poetry - 92 posts

#art - 71 posts

#talking to the bot - 70 posts

#old guard - 37 posts

#fanart - 25 posts

#photographs - 23 posts

#music - 21 posts

Longest Tag: 127 characters

#started going out and about in skirts with hairy legs and it's like. how did it take me so long to get up the courage for this?

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

@babygirlcarmy so i feel like it would be a… i guess twist on all the fics where nicky has homophobic family. if like, so he’s becoming friends with Joe and Joe sees him declining a phone call from his grandmother with a grimace and he’s like, gently sympathetic and Nicky’s just like — no you don’t understand she’s found out I’ve never had a boyfriend and now she won’t stop giving me DATING TIPS BECAUSE SHE THINKS I’M A LOST CAUSE. “I’ll call her back later when she’s about to eat dinner. that way she can’t trap me for half an hour by reading out a list of gay bars she found on yell.com.”

and Joe is like ok 💀 well then 💀

149 notes - Posted September 8, 2022

#4

anyway going around a lot of art galleries this week has reminded me that i really want to write the joe/nicky fic where joe is a new tour guide at the art museum with an aspiration to end up as a curator once he’s done with grad school, and one day at the end of his shift he meets the hot security guard who sometimes does nights.

and then he hears rumours from his colleagues that this guy has… crackpot theories about the art??? joe is like uh ok but also he doesn’t like their tone or the fact that security guards are banned from talking to museum patrons about the art. he’s like, note that down as things to discuss once we finally get this union recognised.

anyway of course it turns out that the security guard, nicky, has three quarters of a PhD in religious art history and he’s been communing with the art a lot and chilling out with it at night. “art speaks in many different voices,” he likes to say, mysteriously. joe is like, wtf, please marry me.

yes it’s very loosely based on the article at the paris review blog about the unicorn tapestries, but can you blame me???

175 notes - Posted October 29, 2022

#3

Seeing a lot of Goncharov content but only real 70s movie heads will know that Spanish director Pere Portabella was meant to be making a behind-the-scenes documentary of the film which turned into a whole other thing. It's called GOMORRA CALLS.

Scorsese is in it and so are his parents, for some reason. At first you're just like oh this is cute, they're bringing food to the set, taking an interest in what's going on. But it becomes this quite... Creepy reality-bending thing? His mother keeps cryptically referring to weird telephone calls they've been getting at home, and his dad keeps moving things on the set, you can only see what he's doing if you spend a lot of time watching him at the edge of the frame while someone else is talking. And sometimes they'll get to the set in the morning and find things left in the wrong place, there's a weird smear on a camera lenses, one of the actors has lost half the pages from the copy of the script they've been learning from.

I think the idea was meant to be that they're being hounded by the realfe mafia for making the movie. But it almost seems like they're being haunted by the ghosts of mafia members at times. Like, Scorsese's hotel room will be freezing cold, and he's being sent anonymous messages at the front desk in a way that just doesn't make sense. He says, "I'm not sure if someone is trying to stop this movie... Or if they just want to be part of it. If they want to look at a prop in the wrong place and just say, hey, that was me."

At the time of its limited run in the US, Scorsese said he didn't really know what Portabella was making, fueling theories that the film was true documentary and not fictionalised. But it's listed as fiction on Portabella's Wikipedia page now, and the prevaing theory is that it must be made up. It's not been included on any of the Goncharov DVD or Blu-Ray packages but it was supposed to be a Criterion Channel exclusive last year... It never showed up, and there are rumours it's to do with audio licensing issues. But there's a VHS rip floating around out there if you know where to look.

182 notes - Posted November 21, 2022

#2

See the full post

359 notes - Posted November 18, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

incredible book I found yesterday… English Field Names: A Dictionary, by John Field

707 notes - Posted April 9, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[inkofamethyst]

January 3, 2023

AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

INVITED TO MY CHOICE 2 [Choice D] FOR AN INTERVIEW WEEKEND

okokokokok lemme back up a lil

So I put together a rough list of PhD programs in the order of “would like to attend” and it’s not entirely accurate, because each of theses programs has pros n cons that are unequally weighted, but I’m keeping it as is because why not [I have since decided to list them alphabetically to better reflect the wibbly-wobbly nature of how I feel about these schools (ex. my “Choice 7 is now my Choice A because it comes first in the alphabet) and to also use an alphabetical system to minimize undergrad and grad admissions confusion].  ANYWAY I finish my TA thing today (more on that later), do some grading (what a bizarre thing to do suddenly after.. seventeen years of being graded), then get set to walk home.  I open my email while I’m somewhere in the middle of campus to find an invitation to a recruitment day from one of the people I contacted.  They’re paying for my flight, for my hotel, for my food... Of course I screamed and called my parents and apparently I screeched again so loudly on the phone with my mom initially that my dad had to come out of a meeting and tell my mom to turn the volume down.

NOW.  I am ecstatic.  This is one of the top programs for my field in the US.  It would look fantastic to be able to graduate from a place like that.  It’s perhaps not in the city environment that I want, but it seems a little more lively than where I’m at now.  Not to mention that the campus is beautiful.

However.  Allow me to back up a bit more.

I was told (after I had reached out to the guy), that one of the potential advisors I was interested in doesn’t.. have the best reputation with lady scientists, if you catch my drift.  I might’ve even lamented over this here because it’s something that’s unfortunately common in male-dominated fields (or fields that are equally split but have older big-name men).  And so I wrote in my personal statement that I was interested in working with another person at the school instead, but I still put that guy in on my app as a potential advisor because you have to name three people.  The guy I don’t want to work with is the one who emailed me though.  And like, he’s not director of admissions or graduate studies or anything.. he’s just a guy there.  So it worries me just a little (because what am I if not a little bag of worries) that the institution might’ve paired me up with that guy.  To be fair, his lab definitely aligns more with my previous research experience and my actual interests, but uh.  I’d rather not be paranoid for six years around a person who can become as close to you as a really good friend or parent, in some cases (not to mention that they can be lifetime collaborators).

But.  That very well could be me entirely overthinking.  For now, I just want to bask in the fact that what was probably my best application overall has yielded some results.

What a way to start the new year.

It’s a little funny, but uh, this morning, before the class started, I thought to myself “I am going to get into [Choice 1 [Choice E]].”  That didn’t happen, not today, anyway, but it’s a weird coincidence that I got this email on the same day.  Something, something, speak it into existence, I guess.

Today I’m thankful for the invitation to interview :)

Even if I have to miss the first day of my classes to do so :P (I am very much understating the effect that missing a full day of class will have on me.. not to mention that it’s the first day and most of these my two academic ones are upper-levels so they’ll spend ten minutes on the syllabus before rockin n rollin into day one content (but but but.  it’s day one content.  I can review day one content on my own.  I’ll be okay.))

Also the TA thing went alright, I’d say.  I overestimated how much background knowledge they were coming in with... it’s a science class and none of the students are natural science majors, so things like hypothesis testing aren’t really part of what they do.  I recognize that a) they haven’t had a full lecture yet, b) they’re taking this to “easily” fulfill a science requirement, and c) I didn’t prepare as much as I needed to (I won’t fault myself for this, as it’s been a minute since I’ve taken this class and I’ve never TA’d before), so I’ve been pretty lenient with grading the first assignments.  I’ll inevitably improve and settle into my own style, but I’m happy with how today went.  Very happy.

What a good day, wow.

[aonoryuhei]

hello 2024!!! goodbye (and good riddance) 2023!!!

2023 was... not the kindest year to me. I struggled a lot (like. A LOT) with grad school, had trouble taking care of myself (thanks depression), had to deal with some very unpleasant people, and had a lot of health issues in my family. overall, not a fun time!

but in the spirit of moving forward and not being overly pessimistic, i have to admit there are good things that happened in 2023 as well. at the end of the year it was decided i could move on with my phd project as i wanted to (a miracle!!). i got to go to my first ever out-of-state conference, which took me to the west coast for the first time! 2024 was also the first time i had consistently been going to the gym for about a month (i stopped but. it happened!!) i had a lot of laughs with mariel (ty for introducing me to detco 🙏 and thank you for indulging the gamer in me) 💕💕💕 i got to meet a lot of wonderful people and now i actually have friends i get to? play games with? just like i always wanted? at the end of the year i also found a vtuber i've really been vibing with and he's in line with one of my main goals for 2024: living more purposefully

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spent the last few days of 2023 constantly doing errands... i don't wanna step into a supermarket for a while!!! also got to go to one of my favorite botanical gardens again with my parents. it was really calming and honestly, i really needed to spend some time in nature just breathing fresh air 🌱🌷🌵 i also got to try french onion soup 🧅 for the first time ever and AAA it was so good??? my mom put some bread and gruyere cheese on top and it was just such a good warm, salty broth that re-energized me!! i'd like to have it again soon if the weather keeps staying as cool as it is hehe

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2024 is gonna be a big year for me, which is pretty scary ngl! i have to get important milestones done for grad school so i can graduate in a year. i'm also going to be a TA for the first time every and i would be lying if i wasn't extremely nervous about it- i literally don't even remember the content for one of the courses 😵‍💫 i also turn 26 meaning i will soon be off my dad's insurance lmfao so i have to get all my health stuff in order before then (ripping my hair out at the idea of scheduling my wisdom tooth removal)............. anyway...........

i'm really stressed as the beginning of the semester is almost here (5 days ough.) but i wanna end this post by focusing on some goals for this year!! like i said, i want to live more purposefully and true to myself this year. this means engaging with things more deeply and focusing my efforts on what i truly like (clothes, media, hobbies, etc). i wanna make grand strides in my academic work but also in my personal life! i wanna become more active this year, start cooking more, make sure to read more, use my notion.... i wanna create! i need to get back into needle felting and i started a csp trial yesterday so i'm gonna give art a try too! a big big biiiig goal for me is to finally set up my neocities too >< i got some ideas for what i'd like to do with it brewing in my head hehe

and that's it for now i think!! i want to make public journal entries like this frequently because some of the coolest people i know online do it and honestly? it's fun!!! ✌️

[meanderingthoughtsofthewretched]

Been a while. Thought I could keep up with this, but quickly realized that was not gonna happen.

I don’t even know why I’m typing here, no one’s gonna read this. Screaming into the void I guess.

Been real down recently, I say as if it hasn’t been the same for the past,,, years.

Tomorrow, or rather today I guess is supposed to be happy. I *should* be feeling better.

I finally applied for a job, but haven’t heard back in a while so I probably didn’t get it.

I actually managed to get over my fear of fucking everything up and emailed a professor to talk about grad school. I’m so scared.

School was my strong suit, what made me ‘special’ amongst my siblings, but now,,, I’ve nearly been out of college longer than I was in it. I can feel how disappointed my dad is. I’m doing my best to hold together but I know he thinks I’m a failure. My sisters are doing so much better than I am.

I recently babysat my nephew and it feels like my older sister has her life figured out. Had a good job, married, bought a house, has a kid, and I feel the pressure to walk in her shoes. She went from college to a job so fast and I just,,, stagnated. Everything was looking so bringing in college but I had another person tied to my ankles pulling me down the entire time.

I wish I never met her to be honest. I fucking hate her. Everything I complain about in my life I can directly tie to her.

Can’t drive? Well your parents didn’t want to teach you with her here because then she would be on the insurance while practicing. Because your sister wanted to sabotage you because she didn’t like her, she convinced your parents that she would fuck everything up, and so you don’t get to go to driving school. What’s that? You need to know that to do basically anything? And you’re already horribly anxious about being behind and scared of driving in general? Ehhhh you’re *fineeee* get in that big metal machine and go!!

Falling behind socially and educationally? Well she did cling to you and got mad whenever you went anywhere without her, also driving home a fear of being alone outside even during the day. Whenever you wanted to see friends you had to take her along with you, and if she picked a fight with your friends then you can’t see them anymore. After school clubs? Not without her! If she doesn’t want to go outside, then neither can you! What’s that? Now you have nothing for a resume, which makes getting into grad school a lot harder? Sucks to suck! You offered to take care of her for the rest of your life when you extended a hand to her in a time of need, didn’t you know that? That you would be responsible for her actions even though you have no control of her and she’s literally a completely independent person? Comes with it and you should have known better.

Having to rekindle all familial relationships? Well she did do her best to drive a wedge in between you and everyone in your family. If they didn’t immediately like her then they were evil narcissists, all of them, and she was only trying to help you, you poor thing, you didn’t even know any better, and she knew best! Doesn’t matter that before she got there and after she left things were quiet and calm and people were communicating just fine, the horrible *horrible* years of everyone acting terrible in response to her actions were because they were simply all evil, and if you try to defend them in the slightest, that makes you evil too.

And she tried so hard to convince you to love her, knowing that you never felt a thing toward her but compassion and pity. You were friends! But she wanted you to be her knight in shining armor saving her and living happy every after. But to do that you have to have an enemy to fight, so that made anyone a target. And you have to defend her constantly, because if you don’t she threatens suicide, constantly letting you know how depressed she is, and how if you were to ever leave she doesn’t know how she could live without you. So sacrifice everything, know only her, and force yourself to be content because that’s the best you’re gonna get.

So it’s only natural that when you finally go separate ways, the biggest emotion was relief. You no longer have to shoulder her emotions on top of yours. You’re free.,,, at least until you’re strapped to your little sister and have to be in charge of her now.

Reminders of her are everywhere, though. From your cookware, to the way you cut everything small because her precious and precocious stomach couldn’t handle literally any vegetables unless disguised or too small to pick out, to the decorative objects that you kept that were also useful, to anyone taking about their mental state because you had to constantly be aware of hers, because if you weren’t she would take it out on you one way or another.

I didn’t even wish her a happy birthday this year. It’s so funny that no one else did either. I hope she continues to be lonely, because anytime someone conflicts with her worldview she pushed them out of her life. I wonder if the yahoos will remember my birthday. It makes me laugh (because if I don’t I will certainly cry) that all it took, after years of her looming over me, to get her to willingly leave, was to put my foot down over my birthday. She couldn’t get over her discomfort for even an hour to come by and hang out, and when I got upset, she pulled away. I forced myself to abandon things that made me happy, literally dreading coming home because of the horrid atmosphere that she created, for *years* and she couldn’t manage an hour. Not even five minutes really.

And when she saw me later she was needlessly antagonistic, defensive, and sharp. We were gathered to play a game, and like always she was competitive to the point where she got pissed off and I started to get that pull at my stomach again, that fear that she was gonna explode. I wasn’t even playing. The others were competitive sure, but there was no edge of anger to it. The others can lose with grace, but not her. She laughs it off but I recognize the setting of her jaw and the look in her eyes. I can laugh now, because reasonably, all she could have done was kill the vibe and I could leave. Thankfully I think she doesn’t have that power over me anymore. She’s never tried to reach out to me, and I kinda hope it stays that way.

It’s late. Yet another night of pointlessly staying up thinking of time long past. At least it’s out of my head now.