#also college admission is in two weeks!!

[jeongyunho99]

i want to share the good GOOOOD news with you guys bc i feel like flying from how happy I'm:)) first of all IT'S A GIRL YAAAYY yes I'm going to have a nother girl i'm so blessed i have a home full of pretty princess 🥺 aaaaaaand my two oldest daughters finished school aaaand they get Excellent + overall :))) i can only now breath and focus on preparing for Eid properly!

[r3starttt]

OBLIVIATE | 01

ellabs x reader | series m.list | > CHAPTER TWO

CW: modern!au. +18 content. poly relationship. POC friendly. | dom! ellabs x sub! reader. college encounter (study session). praising. overstim. edging. threesome. finger sucking. fingering.

SUMMARY: College life quickly became overwhelming with drunken teens, constant disruptions, and the flaunting of wealth, pushing you to prefer solitude until you found yourself striving for perfection, craving approval, and immersing yourself in that lifestyle despite initially finding it insufferable. As summer break approached, exam stress mounted, but hey, now you've got some help.

CHERRY COLOURED FUNK

You were born to be perfect. So were they. Perhaps that's why you bonded so effortlessly.

The day was warm, and all you could think about was reaching your dorm, meeting your roommate, and escaping the suffocating presence of your family. A bunch of privileged stupid individuals who brought you to this esteemed institution just to counter anyone who dared to question their, and soon your, intellectual superiority by flaunting your attendance at a very prestigious college.

Two kisses, one on each cheek. Your mother's final words were, "Don't take any of this too seriously." Little did she know what lay ahead. In fact, little did you know too.

Your room was dull, far more formal than you had anticipated. Sunlight streamed through the plain brown curtains. It felt a bit suffocating even.

Voices echoed from all directions, all comming from what seemed like the main garden.

One voice in particular caught your attention as you peeked through the curtains.

A tall blonde girl stood out, a sweater draped over her shoulders with its arms knotted in front of her chest. She wore a brown t-shirt that clung to her toned frame and a pair of vintage jeans.

Beside her was a shorter auburn-haired girl, a cigarette in hand. Her attire was less conservative.

Even from their hairstyles, you could tell which one came from a rich family and which one didn't care about it. the blonde had her hair neatly braided; the other sported a messy bun.

You met the blonde's eyes, her grou still talking and laughing ridiculously loud. She murmured something to the girl on her side. You could tell she wanted to look too.

You closed the curtains, hoping the day would end quickly.

-

One week into college, you were already overwhelmed. Drunken teens roamed everywhere, not even the fun kind. There was constant joking and bossing around. Classes were frequently interrupted by wealthy kids flaunting their impunity. 'I'm the reason you have a job'

That's one of the main reasons so far you've decided to stay on your own. Having private aproachments with some teachers at the end or beggining of the class, making sure they knew you. Also making yourself comfortable in the library, religiously before going back to your dorm to sleep.

"Is this seat taken?" You barely heard the question, too absorbed in the music playing through your headphones. You shook your head, moving your chair and books to make space for whoever wanted to sit next to you, in the nearly empty library. Guess the luck was over.

As you took your headphones off you immediately recognized who they were. Have you got yourself in trouble just by looking at them?

"We wanted to approach to you since the first day, but you always seem busy" the blonde one spoke. She seemed quite sophisticated, from the way she talked to the way she sat. It did a nice contrast with her appearance, built and big.

"She's been kind of stalking you." The auburn sitting in front of you both spoke. She looked like the type of girl everyone wants to be friend with. And maybe she was considering she had got herself way too comfortable with you already. Teasing and moving her legs over the chair.

The girl next to you simply rolled her eyes, clearly embarrassed by the not so fake admission.

"So, I'm Abby... uhm, Anderson. And she's—" the auburn interrupted, introducing herself "Ellie"

"Williams" Abby finished for her.

-

Months went by after that first interaction.

You realized that the only way to be perfect in your parents' eyes was to embrace this lifestyle, which was probably the only reason you gave them a chance on the first place.

But it all turned into an obsession. You craved perfection, setting impossible standards for yourself and others that you felt like achieving, and desperately needed everyone's approval. More specificly, Abby's and Ellie's approval.

So you spent days and nights with them and their friends, sitting on their laps so they could show you off. Letting them put their hands on your waist or in the back pocket of your jeans whenever you walked.

Going to parties with them, getting drunk, and hating yourself for every drop of alcohol that entered your body, knowing you had class the next day.

At first, it was insufferable. Yet it didn't take long for you to adjust.

You started to understand why rich kids acted the way they did. The more time you spent with them, the more you enjoyed it.

You convinced yourself there could never be a better thing than partying until you vomited and making out with the girls you trusted most. You somehow felt safe.

You also realized that the only way to be perfect in your parents' eyes was to embrace this lifestyle, which was probably the only reason you gave them a chance on the first place.

-

Summer break was closer each day and you needed them attached, so far everything was about study sessions, breaks to eat together or rest. Exam season was a nuisance you didn't quite contemplate and you needed to get the job done.

Heavy eyelids stared unfocused at the floor of your dorm. underneath your bed a dark red rug being graced by your suck covered feet. dancing along the fabric.

Ellie was sitting on the floor, already reading through a study guide you had made. She had her head resting on her knee, her eyes scanning the paper spread out on the floor and her pencil on her mouth. A hum escaped her lips as she wrote down what seemed like the answer.

It was the first time you ever accepted their help. Probably the first time you've let them in your dorm, at least sober.

Abby, beside having you comfortably sitting on her, had her glasses on, reading what seemed like theory for another subject. She didn't really need to study much but there was nothing else to do if Ellie was the genius here. Plus she barely got the note to pass that subject last year.

"What's exactly troubling you?" Ellies voice broke your trance.

What really was troubling you wasn't something you could just say out loud. You knew why Abby was here, and it bothered you. Were you ready for this? For them?

You turned your head towards Ellie, processing her words before answering, "uhh I don't- how're you supposed to do-" you gently brushed abbys hand off your waist, sitting next to ellie and pointing to the part of the process you've got lost on.

Abby didn't hesitate, simply gibing your hip a soft squeeze. But you could feel her looking at you, then looking at Ellie and again at her book.

You spent at least the next 8 hours doing exercise over exercise nonstop. Until your eyes felt heavy and your back could barely hold your head up. You needed a break.

You decided to take a look at Abby once Ellie stood up to grab something to eat. It was cheesy of you, but knowing she liked to constantly chew on something, you had bought a few gummies for her.

Abby knew just by the look on your face that you needed something. "Come here," she said, patting her lap.

Her action elicted a smile on you, sheepishly standing from where you had all day sitting. Your bare foot made the wooden floor crack at each step you took closer to Abby.

"You're taking break?" She spoke soothingly to your ear. Taking her glasses off and widening her legs so you could comfortably swing your legs in between hers. You nodded

Her hand patted on the side next to you, confused you shifted your gaze towards the matresss. Ellie came from behind you, grabbing your waist briefly before sitting next to you. You could hear her chewing.

"Don't get to overwhelmed yeah? So far you've done good, and-" Abby's fingers intertwined with yours, dragging your hand to her lips and leaving a soft kiss against your knuckles. "Ellie's gonna be there for you"

Her words did make you forget about your worries for a moment. But you knew if you failed any exam, you'll be proving your family you were just like them, you'll be making them pay a ridiculous amount of money to pretend nothing ever happened. And you could allow yourself that.

"Hey" Ellie spoke, her hand resting on your shoulder "Abby's right, don't overhtink it, yeah?"

You pressed your lips together. Unable to brush your thoughts away. "Let her help you" instictively your eyebrows furrowed at Ellie's words.

Her eyes met Abby's, followed by your own, just now realizing what she meant. "Fucking horny, Ellie" you laughed it off.

Abby kissed you first. It wasn't the first time she did. But you knew this was different. Ellie, as usual, just followed.

's okay if you don't want to' Ellie whispered. Her hands underneath your shirt as you had your back pressed against her chest. Abby had her lips against your neck, her hands gripping at the flesh on your thighs.

"We're taking a break, right?" You replied, making her smile grow. She hummed in agreement, leaving a trail of wet kisses on the other side of your neck.

"Lay down" Abby spoke between kisses. You had to push Ellie away to obbey her order. You could tell by how her breath hitched and how hungrily she pressed her lips against your skin. Ellie had probably dreamt about this.

Both grabbed each side of your body, laying on their respective sides. Abby's fingers dragging your leg bettwen her own making sure you couldn't move it. Ellie did the same with the opposite one.

Her hands desperately took your shirt off, undoing your jeans and making enough space in between your legs.

You were ridiculously wet already. Feeling abby trace her fingers along your chest, moving your bra underneath your breasts.

Her fingers toyed with your nipple, her teeth against your skin. Ellie kept on sucking at your other breast with such hunger she had already made a mess, her kisses sloppy and wet.

Abby trailed a path down your stomach. Feeling every inch of your skin until she got to the hem of your panties.

Her eyes hadn't missed a single reaction of yours. Your head pressed against the matress, wanting to close your leg; aching for the smallest friction against your clit. And she was willing to give her girl just what she wanted.

"Ellie" Abby mutters, making her turn her attention to her. Just with the look on her eyes, Ellie understood.

Her hands moved under Abby's, chuckling against your skin "You're so wet" your breath hitched at her words. The feeling itself. It was all too overwhelming.

Ellie made sure to rub her fingers against your clothet core. Pressing over it, feeling your arousal grow at every move Abby made against your clit.

Your lips let out pleads to both, their names comming out in a shaky acute tone.

"Shhh you can take more babe" Ellie coos. Your answer being interrupted by Abby abruptly taking her hand off your clit.

Her now wet fingers gently tugging at your hardened nipple again, pinching such sensitive bud between her fingers. 

"Keep them wide for me, yeah?" Ellie's lips pressed against yours before you felt her fingers inside your underwear.

She starts slow, harshly rubbing circles over your clit. Abby's fingers travelling to your mouth to keep you shut, her mouth licking on your skin, eventually letting out gentle praises for you. 'such a good girl'

You moan and whine, gaging on her fingers. "Doing so good for us" Abby whispers, meeting your face. She looked so proud, seeing you all fucked up, your pretty lips around her fingers.

And you suddenly joint. Ellie's fingers inside you already, thrusting your core with ease. "Hear that" Ellie remarks shaking her hand in disbilief, Abby laughs with her, mocking you and how desperate you've got for them. "So wet, huh?"

The grip Abby had on your stomach looses, feeling her hands slowly sliding down on your clit, toying with it again at an unsteady peace, slowing down each time she hears your breath go faster, every time she sees your stomach clenching or whenever she feels you pulsating.

You shut your eyes close, unable to do anything else than let yourself get drunk on pleasure.

Ellie's whines overlap with your own. Feeling herself grow wet at each thrust she makes on your cunt. Feeling you clench around her, feeling your arousal making a mess on her hand.

"You can take it baby" just hearing Abby's voice makes you want to sob. "P-Please" you whine, your hands clenching around nothing, feeling yourself closer to the orgasm you so much desire.

"Oh you're gonna cum for us?" Abby coos. Smiling at your breathless cries. "She's so close" Ellie murmurs, feeling your walls tight around her fingers.

"Y-Yeah" your eyebrows knitted together as Ellie's thrusts became erratic. Abbys fingers still overstimulating your puffy clit, scissoring your folds just to not give you all the pleasure.

You cry as you reach your climax, feeling a warm hand against your cheek. "Shh shh"

Their hands tease you just a few seconds after you've reached your high. Feeling you shake underneath them. Your thighs jumping one last time before they let go.

Your eyes open, noticing your erratic breath show underneath your falling chest.

Ellie's fingers move with ease toward Abby's lips, and she simply takes them, licking your arousal off her hand.

"Fuck" you breath out, resting your head against the matress again, laying between them.

Reblogs and Comments very much appreciated!!!

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[come-on-eat-your-own-pants]

Headcanon to make the timeline work:

The kid Caryn is holding isn't Shermie Pines, it's his son

Okay so think about it. Alex himself has said that though this baby was somewhat intended to be Shermie, it would make no sense time-wise as both he and his son would have to be fifteen or sixteen when they would become a father to get Dipper and Mabel to be the correct age.

Consider. For this theory Shermie is a few years older than Stan and Ford, which would make him about twenty to twenty-two years old when Stan gets kicked to the curb. College age. So let's say he got a little wild in college (or wherever else he is -- perhaps working his first job?) and gets some poor girl knocked up. Of course this is the seventies -- birth control and abortion are a thing, but they aren't as safe, successful and easily accessible as they are now -- so they end up keeping the baby. And Caryn, like any grandmother (source: my mother, who puts up a fight if she gets my brother's kids less than one day/night a week), occasionally looks after the kid so her son can focus on his education (or job). The kid grows up and is about thirty when Dipper and Mabel are born, which is not a very strange age to become a father in the 90s.

I mean, I suppose Shermie could be even older, meaning Caryn would be looking after the kid purely out of grandmotherly love or convenience and not necessarily to give her young parent of a son a break, but it makes more sense to me to have him be college age when he becomes a dad, for mostly one reason: Filbrick. Filbrick Pines explicitly calls Ford their "ticket out of here," which to me reads as Ford being the only son he's really actually proud of, or at least the only son he sees as being actually useful. Perhaps Shermie wasn't as much of a screw-up as Stan, but he also isn't someone Filbrick flaunts. Knocking up a girl would fit that, especially if he had to drop out of college because of it, or something like that.

An argument against this theory could be the absence of Shermie in Stan and Ford's childhood. But honestly: my oldest brother (five years older than me) wasn't that present in my childhood as well. I mean, sure, we did a lot of things together and in a way we were quite close, but we hardly ever played together other than things we did as a family, and he moved out before I even got my first period. This would actually work even better with Shermie being more than a few years older than the Stan twins, because the bigger the age gap, the less interaction there would be.

And of course Stan and Ford are twins, so it would make sense for most of their memories to be of the two of them together. They wouldn't need their older brother so much if they had each other.

Then there is the principal of their high school mentioning to Filbrick and Caryn that they have two sons, which I've seen as an argument for saying that Shermie wasn't born yet at the time (which wouldn't work in any way really because the West Coast Tech admissions team visits the next day, at the end of which this shot of Caryn with the baby is taken, and neither looks like there's been a birth in between the talk with the principal and Stanley getting kicked out). Far more likely to me is that the principal simply didn't know or care about the Stan twins' exact home situation. I mean, it's high school, how relevant is the exact amount of children in a household to a principal? He only has to deal with two, so he only mentions two.

Like, yeah, I know this theory isn't perfect, but the timeline also doesn't really make sense with having the baby be Shermie. I suddenly got this idea, and it works for me, so yeah

[supernovafics]

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2.7k words

summary: in which a moment at a party that led to a drunken kiss and a heartfelt admission pushes you and your best friend away from each other. after nearly a week of silence, it’s still hard to find the right words to say to steve and to find the right way to mend what feels as if it has been permanently broken. until you’re drunk at a bar and he is the one to come and get you.

warnings: bestfriend!steve, explicit language, underage alcohol consumption, angst with a happy ending<33

author’s note: this was sitting in the drafts for a veryvery long time and i’ve finally decided to let it see the light of day🫶🏾 (full “folklore” album series masterlist here)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“i didn't know if you'd care if i came back, i have a lot of regrets about that.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The bar was comforting in a weird kind of way. 

It was pretty dark and empty for the most part, which partly made sense since it was ten o’clock on a random Wednesday night. You didn’t mind the music softly playing and the stool you were sitting on actually felt comfortable, or maybe it was the alcohol making you believe that.

Somehow even with the number of drinks you’d had in the past hour, it still didn’t manage to effectively push your thoughts far away from Steve and what happened at Robin’s birthday party. 

You couldn’t not think about the kiss with him, which you had abruptly and drunkenly initiated; it was a kiss that felt simultaneously wrong and right. And his words that followed the kiss played on what felt like an endless loop in your mind too.

“I’ve wanted this, I’ve wanted us, for practically forever. Ever since that moment our mom’s forced us to meet at that county fair thing when we were ten, I think I knew it was you.” 

It was hard to think about what you did in response to that, but still the quick, “I’m sorry, I can’t,” you managed to stutter out before basically running away from him played on equal loop in your head.  

The two of you hadn’t spoken since that Saturday night, with you returning back to your college that was two hours away from Hawkins early the next morning. And you were unsure if it was you leading this dance or if both of you were equally avoiding each other because the phone calls that would happen practically daily were reduced to nothing. It had barely been a week, but it was long enough for everything in your life to feel shifted; to feel a little emptier. 

“You look like you need to talk to someone,” The bartender, a woman who you were certain couldn’t be older than thirty, said as she slid you the latest drink you’d ordered. 

“No, I’m fine. It’s just…” You trailed off with a small sigh before taking a sip from the cold glass. “I did something stupid this past weekend and I regret it, but I also think it might have been the right thing to do.” You were unsure if you were referring to the kissing Steve part or the running away from him part. “I don’t know, I just wish that entire night hadn’t happened, actually.”

You knew that it wasn’t solely your inebriation that made your words seem as if they didn’t make any sense, because everything going through your head was so damn confusing even when you were completely sober. None of it, the emotions you were feeling or the situation itself, fully made sense to you and you forced yourself to not think about any of it by solely consuming yourself with your schoolwork for the last few days. And when doing that was no longer enough to silence your thoughts, you decided to come to this bar. 

It was dumb and probably only making things worse, you knew that, but it also felt so much easier. 

“Okay,” The woman said. “Can I have a lot more context?” 

You were unsure why you had the immediate urge to tell her everything. Maybe it was the alcohol, or perhaps because it was just always so easy for anyone to pour their heart out to a stranger. 

“My friend— my best friend, we’ve known each other since we were ten— me and him were at a party. It was actually our other friend’s birthday and she just turned eighteen, so of course, we had to make it a huge thing for her, and we did it at Steve’s house; my best friend, that’s his name. Anyway, it’s about two hours into the party and we’re all pretty drunk. Me and Steve are in his backyard sitting on one of his old patio chairs, and then I don’t know why, I blame it on my drunkenness and how close we were in that moment, but I kissed him. I pulled away almost immediately, but then he said that he has wanted this, wanted us, to happen for so long, and I didn’t know what to say to any of that. So, I just mumbled out a stupid “I’m sorry,” and then left.”

You had barely taken a breath as you spoke, spitting out what happened that night in one rushed go. Finally saying all of it out loud— recounting the story in pretty much its entirety— made you feel a little better. Everything was still a complete mess, but you felt like you could breathe the tiniest bit easier. 

“Why did you leave?” 

A part of you expected her to ask that question, and at this point, you should’ve had an answer to it that felt certain, but you didn’t. 

“It just… It felt like the right thing to do, I think.” 

The thought of anything more happening with Steve hadn’t ever crossed your mind, at least not consciously, and even now you still refused to think more about it. Because it wasn't just about Steve. You didn’t want anything more with anyone; you didn’t want feelings, a relationship, any of it. 

It wasn’t that you hated love or the thought of it, it was more so that you had been burned because of it so many times that you refused to fall into it so easily again. Falling for boys that you thought actually liked you only to be proven wrong and left heartbroken. 

“I get it,” The bartender ultimately said, her voice soft. “You guys have been friends for practically forever and if you started dating and then broke up it would probably change everything between you two.” 

We would never break up. 

The thought hit you so abruptly that it actually managed to surprise you.  

The woman looked at you, confused. “Okay… So, then what’s the problem?”

“What?”

“You said that you and him would never break up, so what’s the problem?” 

You hadn’t realized you said the thought out loud, and you couldn’t even feel embarrassed about accidentally saying it because all you could think about was how completely true it was. You and Steve would work so well together, you pretty much already did. You knew the ins and outs of each other; everything little that was annoying but also so endearing. It was what you loved about him— as a friend and as more.  

But still, it was so fucking hard to admit that out loud, and you wanted to forget about the entire realization.

“I– I don’t know,” You finally answered before folding your arms against the countertop and then putting your head down. You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping that that action would be enough to will away the tears that you could now feel threatening to spill out. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“and i ended up here. pouring out my heart to a stranger.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Hey, you okay?” 

The voice was soft and immediately comforting and oh so familiar. It was enough to put a smile on your face, but your head was starting to pound so you couldn’t bear to do anything but groan.  

You lifted your head and mumbled out a soft, “Steve?”

You only vaguely remembered the bartender, whose name you eventually learned was Chelsea, asking for a phone number of someone that could pick you up. And although you should’ve given her your roommate’s number, you instead gave her Steve’s. 

“I never thought I’d be the one picking you up from a bar,” Steve said as he sat down next to you. “I always thought it would be the other way around.”

“Y’know what they say about college, it changes people,” You told him with a nonchalant shrug. The two of you hadn’t talked in days, but it still felt like second nature to fall back into the joking cadence you had with him. “I’m a total badass now.”

Steve laughed a bit and looked at you amusingly. “Mhm, yeah, sure you are.”

You weren’t as drunk anymore but you were entering the early stages of a hangover that would be a bitch, and you already knew that there was no way you’d be going to your eleven o’clock Statistics class. 

“I can’t believe you drove two hours to pick me up,” You said as you settled yourself in the passenger seat of Steve’s car after you paid your pricey tab and goodbyes were said to Chelsea.  

Steve offered you a small smile. “What else are best friends for?”

You couldn’t help but look away from him as you mumbled out a soft, “I didn’t know we were still that.”

“We’ll always be that.” 

There was so much certainty in his voice that it actually managed to soothe something inside of you. Only for a second, though, because then you were back in your head again. 

The drive back to your dorm was quiet with only the soft sounds of the radio to fill the silence. It was a short ride, only about ten minutes, and the entire time you could only focus on your dull headache and what you wanted to say to Steve because you knew that you had to say something. Although you didn’t want to, that night needed to finally be talked about.

When he was parked in front of your building, you still didn’t know exactly what to say, but you decided to start with something. “Listen, about Robin’s party–” 

“It’s okay, we don’t have to talk about it. Let’s just pretend it never happened,” Steve interrupted you. He pushed a hand through his hair and then met your gaze. “It was really dumb of me to say all of that stuff, and I partially blame it on all the drinks we had— definitely way too many. We’re just friends, I know that. And your life is here now, for the most part, and mine is back in Hawkins, so yeah…” He trailed off with a small shrug. 

You suddenly felt nauseous and you knew it had nothing to do with the alcohol. He was saying everything that you fully thought you wanted to hear— what happened at the party should’ve never happened, you two were just friends— so why did it feel so wrong? 

Things became quiet and Steve was looking at you expectantly, and you were unsure how long you’d been silent for. 

“Um, yeah, exactly,” You finally said as you unbuckled your seatbelt. Before you opened the passenger door to leave his car, you reached over and pulled Steve in for a hug. “Drive safe.”

“Thanks,” He said as his arms circled around you. 

For some reason, there was a huge part of you that wanted to say “I’m sorry” in that moment, but you didn’t entirely know why, so instead you said nothing and simply got out of his car.

You headed to the entrance of your dorm building and then turned around, giving Steve a final wave before he drove away. 

It was then— as he headed down the street and after a few moments his car became completely out of your view— that you wished you’d been honest; with yourself and with him.  

Because it was in that moment of you yearning for him to turn around mixed with you sincerely wanting to go after him that essentially sealed it for you. 

Steve was different and he always would be. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“and maybe i don't quite know what to say, but i'm here in your doorway.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You felt slightly lucky that you only had two classes on Thursdays because when you woke up after sleeping through your Statistics class, you knew that you wouldn’t be going to your Psychology class that started at three. And the reasoning actually had nothing to do with your hangover. 

Aside from the slight headache, you woke up with your mind feeling completely clear for the first time in a long time. You knew exactly what you wanted and what you wanted to do, and before that feeling could go away, or you could convince yourself to push it away, you were in your car an hour before your class was supposed to start and driving to Hawkins. You were pretty much running off of impulse and hope.

The weather was terrible and you hated driving in the rain, but it didn’t matter to you right then because you needed to see Steve.

You had two long hours of driving in terrible rain to figure out what exactly you wanted to say to him, yet you still couldn’t form a coherent set of sentences in your head. But, similar to the rain, that didn’t stop you from ringing his doorbell. 

In hindsight, it probably would’ve been smart to bring an umbrella because it was still pouring and from the short walk from your car to his front door, your clothes managed to become effectively soaked, but it didn’t bother you. 

“Hey,” He said when he opened the door, it was easy to tell that he was surprised to see you. “Did you drive all the way here?”

You quickly nodded at his question. “Yes.”

“You hate driving in rain.” 

“Yeah, but I… I just really wanted to talk to you, and didn’t wanna do it over the phone.”

“Come inside,” Steve said, pushing the door open wider so that you could step in. 

You almost followed him but then stopped. “No, wait… I kinda just wanna say this here.” 

Steve looked at you confused, but ultimately nodded. “Okay.” He then stepped out of his house and closed the door behind him; his clothes immediately got wet. “It feels wrong that you’re the only one getting hit by the rain.” 

You laughed a bit. “Thank you. That’s very considerate.”  

Things got quiet for a second and you suddenly felt nervous, but you pushed that feeling to the side.

“I know you said that we don’t need to talk about the party and we should pretend that it never happened. And although that’s exactly what I’d been doing for the past few days, I don’t wanna do that anymore.” It actually didn’t feel too hard to let all of this out; verbalizing exactly what had been going on in your head. In a way, it felt like a relief. “I think I kissed you that night because deep down I know that it’s you too. And that it’s always been you… Which is actually so scary to think about because we’ve known each other for so long and you’re the one person in my life that has been the biggest constant. You’ve seen every part of my very horrific love life and I don’t want us to end up like any of the stupid relationships I had before, and I think that’s why I ran away that night, which I do really regret.” You pulled your eyes away from his for a second. “But, what we have is different, and I want to try. I want us to try.”

You let out a long breath. “Okay, that’s it.”  

Steve didn’t say anything for a few moments, and it was then that you realized how loud the rain was, and somehow it was actually a bit calming to hear the sounds of the heavy drops hitting the ground. 

You searched his eyes to see if you could decipher what he was thinking, but before you could get a clear read on anything, he was closing the small bit of distance between you both and reaching up to cup your face in his hands before leaning in to kiss you. 

The abruptness of the action slightly startled you, but you were completely okay with this nonverbal response to you pouring your heart out. You were kissing him back almost immediately and suddenly the sound of the rain was gone and instead all you could hear was your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

The kiss felt perfectly new but also so insanely familiar; even though this was the first time this was happening sober. And so many things were running through your mind, but it was also effectively blank and you knew you wouldn’t be able to form a coherent sentence even if you tried. 

Most of all, though, everything happening right then— the way your hands fisted themselves in his rain soaked t-shirt to pull him impossibly closer to you, and how his thumb stroked your cheek so tenderly— it all felt so certain and sure and right; there wasn’t an ounce of doubt lingering in the air around you both or lacing its way within the kiss. 

When you pulled away to catch your breath and smiled up at him, a smile that Steve immediately matched with an elated grin of his own, it slightly killed you that all of this hadn't happened sooner.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“i just wanted you to know that this is me trying.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved on our archive (Thousands of reports, sources, and resources! Daily updates!)

By Robert Stevens

A COVID wave fuelled by the XEC variant is leading to hospitalisations throughout Britain.

According to the UK Health Security Agency (UKHSA), the admission rate for patients testing positive for XEC stood at 4.5 per 100,000 people in the week to October 6—up significantly from 3.7 a week earlier. UKHSA described the spread as “alarming”.

Last week, Dr. Jamie Lopez Bernal, consultant epidemiologist at the UKHSA, noted of the spread of the new variant in Britain: “Our surveillance shows that where Covid cases are sequenced, around one in 10 are the ‘XEC’ lineage.”

The XEC variant, a combination of the KS.1.1 and KP.3.3 variants, was detected and recorded in Germany in June and has been found in at least 29 countries—including in at least 13 European nations and the 24 states within United States. According to a New Scientist article published last month, “The earliest cases of the variant occurred in Italy in May. However, these samples weren’t uploaded to an international database that tracks SARS-CoV-2 variants, called the Global Initiative on Sharing All Influenza Data (GISAID), until September.”

The number of confirmed cases of XEC internationally exceeds 600 according to GISAID. This is likely an underestimation. Bhanu Bhatnagar at the World Health Organization Regional Office for Europe noted that “not all countries consistently report data to GISAID, so the XEC variant is likely to be present in more countries”.

Another source, containing data up to September 28—the Outbreak.info genomic reports: scalable and dynamic surveillance of SARS-CoV-2 variants and mutations—reports that there have been 1,115 XEC cases detected worldwide.

Within Europe, XEC was initially most widespread in France, accounting for around 21 percent of confirmed COVID samples. In Germany, it accounted for 15 percent of samples and 8 percent of sequenced samples, according to an assessment from Professor Francois Balloux at the University College London, cited in the New Scientist.

Within weeks of those comments the spread of XEC has been rapid. Just in Germany, it currently accounts for 43 percent of infections and is therefore predominant. Virologists estimate that XEC has around twice the growth advantage of KP.3.1.1 and will be the dominant variant in winter.

A number of articles have cited the comments made to the LA Times by Eric Topol, the Director of the Scripps Research Translational Institute in California. Topol warns that XEC is “just getting started”, “and that’s going to take many weeks, a couple months, before it really takes hold and starts to cause a wave. XEC is definitely taking charge. That does appear to be the next variant.”

A report in the Independent published Tuesday noted of the make-up of XEC, and its two parent subvariants: “KS.1.1 is a type of what’s commonly called a FLiRT variant. It is characterised by mutations in the building block molecules phenylalanine (F) altered to leucine (L), and arginine (R) to threonine (T) on the spike protein that the virus uses to attach to human cells.

“The second omicron subvariant KP.3.3 belongs to the category FLuQE where the amino acid glutamine (Q) is mutated to glutamic acid (E) on the spike protein, making its binding to human cells more effective.”

Covid cases are on the rise across the UK, with recent data from the UK Health Security Agency (UKHSA) indicating a 21.6 percent increase in cases in England within a week.

There is no doubt that the spread of XEC virus contributed to an increase in COVID cases and deaths in Britain. In the week to September 25, there were 2,797 reported cases—an increase of 530 from the previous week. In the week to September 20 there was a 50 percent increase in COVID-related deaths in England, with 134 fatalities reported.

According to the latest data, the North East of England is witnessing the highest rate of people being hospitalised, with 8.12 people per 100,000 requiring treatment.

Virologist Dr. Stephen Griffin of the University of Leeds has been an active communicator of the science and statistics of the virus on various public platforms and social media since the start of the pandemic. He was active in various UK government committees during the height of the COVID-19. In March 2022, he gave an interview to the World Socialist Web Site.

This week Griffin spoke to the i newspaper on the continuing danger of allowing the untrammelled spread of XEC and COVID in general. “The problem with COVID is that it evolves so quickly,” he said.

He warned, “We can either increase our immunity by making better vaccines or increasing our vaccine coverage, or we can slow the virus down with interventions, such as improving indoor air quality. But we’re not doing those things.”

“Its evolutionary rate is something like three or four times faster than that of the fastest seasonal flu. So you’ve got this constant change in the virus, which accelerates the number of susceptible people.

“It’s creating its own new pool of susceptibles every time it changes to something that’s ‘immune evasive’. Every one of these subvariants is distinct enough that a whole swathe of people are no longer immune to it and it can infect them. That’s why you see this constant undulatory pattern which doesn’t look seasonal at all.”

There are no mitigations in place in Britain, as is the case internationally, to stop the spread of this virus. Advice for those with COVID symptoms is to stay at home and limit contact with others for just five days. The National Health Service advises, “You can go back to your normal activities when you feel better or do not have a high temperature”, despite the fact that the person may well still be infectious. Families are advised that children with symptoms such as a runny nose, sore throat, or mild cough can still “go to school or childcare' if they feel well enough.

The detection and rapid spread of new variants disproves the lies of governments that the pandemic is long over and COVID-19 should be treated no differently to influenza.

Deaths due to COVID in the UK rose above 244,000 by the end of September. It is only a matter of time before an even deadlier variant emerges. Last month, Sir Chris Whitty, England’s chief medical officer, told the ongoing public inquiry into COVID-19 “We have to assume a future pandemic on this scale [the global pandemic which began in 2020] will occur… That’s a certainty.”

[oh-meretseger]

part 2 (of whatever this is) - Clean Freak

attack on titan modern college au // Jean Kirstein x fem!reader

notes: 18+! smut (there will be a lot more coming, I’m pouring all my fantasies into this fic lmao so bear with me), Jean being quite a pervert, fantasizing about oral, masturbation

word count: 3,4k

“You're gonna let Jean see you in THAT?!" Sasha yelled out suddenly, right after she promised to stay when Jean was coming over to your dorm to finally finish your project. You had to complete it by Friday, and it was already Wednesday, leaving you the most frustrated with Jean you've ever been. His immature approach to the whole thing made you question how he even got admission to college. The way he ignored all the work and instead kept stealing your notes, your glasses, he pulled your hair, poked his fingers between your ribs made you think he was actually a toddler in an muscular man's giant costume...

"Yeah, you're right, I can't show any surface of skin around that manchild" you glanced in the mirror, and quickly grabbed a pair of sweatpants to slide over the tight shorts that covered definitely too little. Your arms were already covered in bruises due to all the damn poking, pinching and suffering Jean put you through this week. You couldn't let him target your legs next.

Since that ominous day in the library, Jean was more insufferable than ever. You had a feeling that it had to do with the multiple seconds you were kneeling on his lap, pressed up against his chest and face... And the awkward, quiet minutes after that you spent trying to hide your blood red face. You tried to ignore the heat that spread through your body whenever that moment popped into your mind, because it just left you confused.

You also tried not to look Jean into his eyes after that, if not necessary, but you could definitely sense him get ten times more irritating since.

And working on that project with him became impossible.

But you guys finally managed to arrange you and Sasha getting a two-bed dorm room together, and it seemed like the perfect, most peacful place to finally finish the project. With Sasha being there, you hoped you both would detain from bullying the hell out of each other, and actually get the work done.

"Pookie, stop covering up, just let it happen" Sasha laughed, sitting on her bed while watching as your movements became nervous. You turned to her confused. "How long are y'all going to pretend you're not into each other?"

You blushed instantly and turned away, hoping she wouldn't see you getting embarassed right away. What is she talking about?

"Sasha-" you awkwardly searched for the right words to reply, and Sasha chuckled again. "Stop being crazy. We're not into each other"

"Sure, Jan" she replied raising her eyebrows, and you let out a giggle at the joke. Although you wanted her to know how much of an insane idea it was to think that you and Jean...

"He's a damn playboy, he probably has a roaster of girls from around the campus that I definitely wouldn't fit into" you said your thoughts out loud while folding the few pieces of clothes laying around on your bed. "He's an annoying idiot anyway"

"He doesn't have a roaster of girls, actually. But I see why you would think that" Sasha smiled as she watched your movements in the mirror. "He does seem like an arrogant jock, but I've known him for years. He's a sweetheart. And there's definitely something between you two, so stop denying it to yourself, missy”

You quickly turned your back to her while quietly smiling at her words. You hoped she couldn't see, but she chuckled as she caught a glimpse of the curve of your lips in the mirror. Sasha grabbed the pair of jeans laying next to her and started changing her comfy joggers.

"He does seem arrogant, and he makes me go insane on purpose" you frowned, putting the stack of folded clothes away to your closet. "But I've only known him for a few months, so surely, you know him better"

"I do, and he's great. And don't call me Shirley" Sasha jumped from the bed, trying to use the momentum to get her butt into the tight jeans, and you bursted out laughing as you turned to her.

Your smile faded rather quickly as you saw her changing her shirt as well, as if she was getting ready to go out.

"Where are you going?!"

"Oooh sorry, Y/N, I forgot I already made plans with Hisu to go out, we're getting froyo" her eyes sparked with pure joy at those last few words, and you felt yourself shatter, instantly starting to panic.

"NO! You promised you would stay!"

"I knowww, I really am sorry" Sasha pouted, and quickly grabbed her cute little crotcheted bag on her way to the door, as you both heard a loud knock. That pout was SO fake, you knew she was doing this on purpose... Whatever her goal was. "I'll bring you a cup of that blueberry one you like, I promise"

"YOU PRO-" you froze in your place as Sasha reached the door and it swung open, revealing Jean standing in the doorway.

"Hi, Jean!" Sasha looked up at him with the most cheerful, chirping voice, as if she didn't just betray you with this evil surprise of hers. Of course, she'd made no plans to go out with Hisu whatsoever, but she did miss her, and getting multiple cups of froyo sounded like a great afternoon plan. Besides, she did want to leave you and Jean to be in private, completely alone...

"Hi, are you not-"

"No, no, no, I've got EXTREMELY important places to be" Sasha cut Jean off as she grabbed him by his jersey, then yanked him through the doorway and into the room. You stood there in shock, watching her leave you, with him, to suffer.

"Sasha!"

"Bye, pookies!"

BANG. The door slammed shut behind her, and you two were left there, completely alone. Your eyes darted to him, and Jean adjusted the jersey on his chest that Sasha nearly ripped apart a few seconds ago.

He was clearly coming from hockey practice, you could tell not only by the oversized jersey he wore, but also by the way his hair looked. It was messy, a few ashy brown strands sticking to his temple, wet with sweat, although it seemed like he did try to quickly comb it back. His face was flushed, the skin on his cheekbones and nose dusted with a reddish tint, his lips plump and wet from the empty water bottle he held in his hand. Your eyes wandered to the stubble on his sharp jawline, fading down to his neck. The skin slightly glistened from sweat, the muscles creating lines of shadow as he raised his head...

"The hell's wrong with her" he murmured frowning, looking up to see you staring right at him. As the hazel eyes met with yours, the heat forming in your center turned into a definite warm, tingling sensation between your legs, and you felt yourself starting to melt.

What. The. Hell.

There's no way you're getting wet at the sight of this idiot, dripping with sweat, smelling like a boy's locker room.

"I don't know, she's in silly goose mode today" you quickly shrugged and turned your head to break the few moments of silence of you looking into each other's eyes. Jean held back a smile forming on his face, and he dropped his backpack on the rug next to your bed.

"Sorry for being late, practice lasted a little longer than I expected" he apologized, throwing himself on the end of your bed without a second thought. You instantly felt your stomach drop at the thud, and turned to see the most horrific sight you could ever imagine.

Jean's sweaty, dirty body laying on your clean, white bedsheets.

"JEAN!"

"Are you fucking crazy?!" Jean yelled out, half-laughing from the element of surprise, as he tried to defend himself from your immediate attack. You jumped on the bed and started pushing his body down with all the strength you could gather. "AGH, you're breaking my ribs, you rat!"

"Get off of my bed, you're fucking dirty!" you groaned as Jean put his big ass palm on your forehead, trying to get you off of him. An intense wave of anger fueled your effort to move the sweaty body twice as big as yours. "You're getting your sweat all over my stuff!"

"You should be grateful for any bodily fluid of a man touching your stuff" Jean laughed, and moved his palm to cover and smush the whole of your face, when you decided that pushing with your hands was not enough, and started bullying his ribcage with your knee. Your shouts were muffled by his hand pressed into your face, but instead of giving up, you decided to let your teeth do the talking for you. "AARGH!"

Jean's muscles lost their defensive tension due to the  sharp pain of your teeth sinking into his palm, and taking adventage of his momentary weakness, you pushed him as hard as you could. His body rolled over and landed on the hardwood floor with a loud thud.

"You're fucking insane" Jean pushed himself to slowly sit up, examining his other hand that you injured with a painful hiss leaving his mouth.

"PTUH, did you not wash your hands after digging in dirt?!" you growled at him, trying to spit out the dirty taste his hand left in your mouth. But that's what you get for biting him, you guessed.

You frantically started brushing off your face when you realized, it was not only your mouth that Jean's dirty palm got smushed into, but also the precious skin of your face.

"Yeah, I jerked off with that hand after that, hope you like the taste" Jean scoffed at you, but the smug look on his face quickly turned into an honest burst of chuckle as he watched you stick out your tongue, trying to get him out of your mouth by the little spitting sounds you were doing.

"You're a prick"

"And you're clinically insane, but here we are" he replied, then pushed himself from the floor to stand up. You followed his actions, then stepped to your closet as you shook your head.

"Here" you threw your largest oversized t-shirt you could find in his direction, and he reached to catch it, followed by the clean towel tossed to his chest. "You can take a shower here"

"A shower?"

"You will NOT rub your sticky body all over my bed" you crossed your arms, looking over to him. You could feel your lips curve into a smile, seeing the confused look on his face, still flushed from running from practice and of course brutally fighting with you. Confusion on that smug face of Jean's was a rare sight to see.

And it was kinda cute.

Huh?

You quickly shook your head to get rid of the stupid thoughts, and pointed your finger in the direction of the bathroom of your dorm. "You stink"

"Get off my back, I'll sit on the chair then" Jean gestured towards the only chair in the room, being Sasha's comfy rolling desk chair - which she definitely didn't want smelling of a dirty, sweating man. You shook your head. "C'mon, I skipped showering and dropped off my stuff at my dorm just to get here in time because of your bitching ass!"

"Don't care, didn't ask" you replied with a snarky, forced smile, and tossed a pair of Connie's sweatpants to him. He lended it to Sasha a few days back, after she yeeted a bucket of chocolate ice cream into her lap at Connie’s and Jean’s dorm.

"Thanks, dipshit" Jean grimaced right back at you, and accepting his loss, turned his back to you to walk into your bathroom. You couldn't help staring at the broad shoulders, his wide back muscles moving under the jersey as he moved, just like his glute muscles under the sweatpants that became visible where the jersey rode up... "Hey, these are my sweats!"

"Tell Connie, he's the one giving away your stuff" you replied with a smirk. "You're welcome, by the way"

Jean shut the door behind him, and you threw yourself on your bed, burying your face in your hands. What the actual fuck is happening in your head?

Jean in your bathroom, on the other hand, was not so confused by his feelings as you were by yours.

He stood in front of the sink and lifted the shirt you gave him up to his face. He closed his eyes as the familiar smell of you filled his nose. It was a clean, kind of a sweet scent, that he knew exactly from all the times he got into your face, bullying you to insanity in the past few weeks.

He smiled to himself at the thought, and threw the clean clothes on the edge of the sink. It was a small bathroom, full of a bunch of shampoo bottles, cream jars, serums, pots, and whatever other girly products he couldn't identify to save his life. There was not much room to put any of his stuff.

Jean started taking his clothes off, and he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror above the sink. You were kinda right, he did look dirty. His hair was a mess, a few strands dripping of sweat and stuck to his face and neck.

He saw you staring at it when he caught your eyes after Sasha left.

Maybe you thought of him the same way he thought of you? The way he still saw you as a stuck up little nerd, but found you more and more attractive the more he got under your skin, just turned him on so much. More than anything. Maybe it was because your angry moments made your tough, icy shell break, that you specifically made just to hide from him. And under that shell, you were not the mousy dork you wanted him to see.

His dirty, sweat-drenched clothes dropped on the tile floor one by one, as Jean got completely undressed. He saw you getting flustered more and more frequently, when you two were close to each other. He wondered if you thought of him getting naked in that small bathroom right now.

You absolutely did. You felt your cheeks growing warm under your palms, as you laid there, face still buried in your hands, Jean getting undressed on the other side of the door being the only thought in your mind. You wanted to stop the thoughts, but they sent waves of warmth down your body, making you throb in your panties...

And it felt good.

You've been denying the pleasure of letting these thoughts flow free for weeks now. You gave up. He was within a few feet from you, and he was probably already naked.

Jean grabbed the clean towel, and swiftly looked around to find a place to put it, where it'll be within reach from the shower. There was a wicker basket half-full of clothes, with a familiar pair of socks thrown on the top, covered in small little teddy bears. That was definitely Sasha's. Next to it was what looked like another laundry box. That must be yours.

Jean stopped for a moment. Instead of simply using it as a temporary towel holder, he stepped closer to the box and slowly lifted the lid.

Yes, it was definitely yours.

After a quick glance at the closed door, he carefully reached into it, pulling out a familiar lilac top of yours. He remembered it, because it was quite a tight one, not like your usual baggy t-shirts that you liked to hide under. This one top made it hard for him not to look at the round outlines of your perfect tits, your nipples poking through the thin fabric. Jean lifted the top to his nose, getting a whiff of your sweet scent.

Jean felt like such a fucking pervert at that moment. There has never been a need for him to get creepy, he could basically get any girl he wanted. There was not one time when he felt called to stalk on anyone, or act out of line, being in their bathroom and smelling their used clothes.

Dear lord.

He almost, almost convinced himself to cut it off, and just take a shower. But as he reached to drop the lilac top back in the box, a pair of panties caught his eye on top of the laundry. Fuck.

Jean already felt himself getting hard as he pulled out the soft piece of fabric, and felt it between the tips of his fingers. It was a simple cotton pair, with a blue little bow at the top. Jean closed his eyes, imagining the bow sitting right above your little pussy, and blood flowed into his groin, his cock getting rock hard in no time.

He let out a quiet sigh as he imagined how your wet folds must taste just as sweet and salivating as you smelt. He couldn't shake the feeling that this was extremely wrong... But he also couldn't stop now.

Jean wrapped his fingers around his hardened cock, and jerked himself a little bit while thinking of how he would lick and tease your little clit through this soft fabric. His tip started glistening with precum as the thought of you moaning in pleasure filled his mind. Your eyes would be looking into his, your long eyelashes blinking down at him, practically pleading him to pull the panties aside and lick your wet, creamy center.

"Holy shit" Jean whispered with a quiet, low groan and hesitated for a moment, before wrapping the pair of panties around his achingly hard cock. He had to gather all his strength to hold back his moans as he started to slide them up and down on his shaft. This is so wrong.

But he so desperately wanted to be inside of you.

He bit down on his lower lip, tightening your panties around the head of his cock. The precum leaking from the tip started to form a wet little patch on the fabric. The softness of it, your smell still lingering in his nose and overwhelming his senses, the image in his head of your legs spread wide open for him... It just felt so fucking good.

Jean started to let out a few quiet sighs as he let himself enjoy the thought of eating you out, then the whole of his body jerked in shock as a loud knock on the bathroom door stopped him in his tracks.

"Jean, what the hell are you doing? Quit admiring yourself in the mirror and get in the shower, we don't have all day" you yelled through the door. It took you multiple seconds to talk yourself out of peeping through the keyhole.

Jean quickly dropped the panties back into the laundry box and closed the lid. You heard the shower start running in no time, and you threw yourself on the bed again, as if burying your face in the pillows made all your dirty little thoughts of him go away. You imagined as water ran down on his skin, wetting his hair, dripping from his most sensitive parts...

"Holy fucking shit, I'm out of my mind" you murmured into the pillow, and cursed Sasha for leaving you to suffer in this situation.

And for being so right about you being into him.

In little less than ten minutes, the bathroom door swung open and with a cloud of hot steam around him, Jean appeared wearing the clean clothes you gave him. You sat up on your bed, and instantly bursted out laughing at the sight.

His own grey sweatpants obviously fit him right, but the large t-shirt you lended him was so tight around his chest and shoulders, it looked like it was moments from tearing apart. Not to mention the length of the shirt on his tall frame left the lower part of his stomach completely uncovered.

"I like your crop top, babygirl" you grinned looking up at his face, and Jean frowned, but you could see the glimpse of the smile he was holding back. You forced yourself to ignore the wetness you felt spreading in your panties as you looked at his happy trail peeking from under your shirt. The V-line formed by his hips lead your eyes right down to the crotch of his sweatpants, and you felt yourself blush again.

This was going to be a misery, that was for sure.

"Shut up, clean freak" Jean growled and occupied his well deserved place on the end of your bed.

[the-ace-with-spades]

Tw implied mpreg but it started with the idea of having hangster daughter be a matchmaker for her dumb dads and escalated with a whole backstory of how it got to that

        Jake and Bradley meet when they're younger — Bradley just found out Mav pulled his papers and is taking a gap year traveling around and Jake is in his last year in high school when a guy from Cali starts working in his mama's diner. (for the purpose of this idea, the age gap between them is 1, max 2 years). They become close pretty quickly and bond over their goal to enter the USNA/become naval aviators. Soon, they started dating — it was the burn bright and fast romance type but it was genuine.

        Come the time when the USNA acceptance letters come and they both get in. They've been together over nine months and had talked about all the things they wanted to accomplish in USNA and in the Navy and so when Bradley finds out he's pregnant, he can't make himself tell Jake — he was so excited about the academy, already basically had his whole life planned, and there was no place in it for teenage pregnancy. He likes to think that Jake would try to be there for them (and therefore resign from USNA since he wouldn't be able to visit or work in the academy) but he's also scared he wouldn't. So he doesn't tell him.

        Bradley pretends he's changed his mind, that he's going to enter NROTC and they're going to meet in the pre-flight pipeline, and goes to college to his second choice (UVA) and completely cuts contact with Jake despite the promise. Clean break so Jake can live the life they both dreamed about. Jake turns the devastation into anger but he never really moves on.

       Bradley is studying at UVA on partial scholarship, working two part-time jobs, and has everything planned — due date in the winter break, two weeks off, and then back to work and school. Ice and Mav realize he didn’t go to USNA mid autumn semester — Mav hoped them not interfering with the re-admission would be like an olive branch and Bradley’d forgive him. One way or another, they find out where he is — the baby is born the day they visit his apartment, a good few weeks early.

��       Shit gets complicated, Bradley is off school and off work for a few weeks, gets kicked out of both, basically. Mav interferes, Bradley flies to California with them as soon as he and his daughter are fit, and Bradley starts working part-time again, waiting to return to college in the next year.

        Bradley does eventually become a naval aviator, with major help from Mav and Ice. He gets into college close to home and enters NROTC while Mav and Ice take care of his daughter, Angel, whenever he needs to go and promise to take her in whenever he'd need to be deployed in the future. She stays mostly with Ice when he’s deployed, often sitting in his office and going to meetings with him.

        Fast forward to years later, Jake finds out Bradley is a naval aviator after all when they meet at Top Gun (he’s a couple of years ahead in his career than Bradley). He's hoping that he can get some explanation on the radio silence years before and the whole romance thing between them can be renewed. He finds out Bradley has a kid first, before they can talk, and he assumes he's moved on with someone who isn't Jake and has a kid with them as well. Cue Jake being a bigger ass than usual, basically giving Bradley the cold shoulder and cutting any of Bradley's attempts to talk (and taste the waters) short. Bradley assumes it's better the way it is and that his decision all those years ago was right — Jake has the life he wants.

       When they meet at Top Gun again, not much changes. Jake still has a bit of a grudge but that day at the Hard Deck, Bradley isn't there and when the aviators are chatting, Nat mentions he was deployed and went straight to his daughter when he landed and isn't leaving her the whole day. And Jake makes some sort of remark about how Bradley's kid and partner must be happy about the special detachment and Nat just looks at him weird like, you know Bradley doesn't have a partner, never has, he's been a single parent for years. Jake feels, well, dumb, but he still hasn't figured out that he's the baby daddy and all, he just thinks he could've been a step dad all those years he's thought Bradley had someone.

        In the end, Bradley tells him the night before the mission. They're on the carrier and Bradley visits his cabin and they sit down on Jake's bunk and have a talk. And Bradley tells him that he has a daughter, she'll be twelve in November, her name is Angelica but lately she's been telling everyone to call her Angie, that Bradley didn't tell him because he didn't want to mess up his plans and dreams for life. That if he doesn't come back, he wants him to know her and have a chance to be her dad.

[Now, the part that was the first bit that came into my mind.]

       Things are awkward between them after the mission. Jake meets Angie and it's not okay straight away (she's got questions, why wasn't he there all those years, why did Bradley not tell him, what will he do now). Things are even more awkward when she asks if this means he's Bradley's boyfriend now and he answers yes, while Bradley says no. And logically, yes, they haven't talked about it and it's been twelve years and he assumed. But this is Bradley and they have a daughter together.

        Slowly, they try to acclimate to the situation. First, Bradley goes to all the meet-ups Jake has with Angie, mostly because while he trusts Jake, he knows Angie is a bit wary and he wants her to be comfortable, so they go as a three or spend the time in Bradley’s house. Sure, it’s not all straightforward, Angie is a bit angry with Bradley and it takes some mitigating from Jake (and self-restraint, because Jake is kinda pissed with Bradley as well but he doesn’t want it to affect Angie), but once she forgives him, she starts being carefully enthusiastic about having another dad, and it feels like a family. It’s still summer break so they go to the beach, every tourist spot imaginable, and Angie is currently on a marine biology kick so they go anywhere that has related topics. Jake takes her flying, Bradley stays on the ground, and when Angie says it was fun and she wants to do it again, Jake realizes Bradley let him be the first person to take her up in the air. On the lazier, hotter evenings, they stay inside with multitudes of fans running and Bradley making them gazpacho and sundaes, playing board games and cards.

       And you know, there comes a time when Jake is checking that Angie has everything she needs to go to the aquarium and they are at the porch and Bradley gives Angie a kiss and says he’ll see them later and Jake realizes he’s not going. You know, I thought you guys are ready to go alone, just the two of you. Isn’t this what you told me, Angel? And sure enough, Angie agrees that she is okay to go with Jake but you can see she gets really quiet once they get into the car. And Jake is all like, you know we don’t have to go alone if you don’t want to. And she denies it but Jake prods and prods until she admits she heard her grandpa talk to daddy about how he can use the free time to date again. And obviously, Jake is a bit curious so she talks to him about the people who Bradley dated in the past twelve years on the way to the aquarium, and Jake doesn’t get the full picture (she only talks about 3 people and there’s no way it’s all) and has this irrational fear that Bradley is on a date the whole time they’re out. Obviously there’s no date (Angie didn’t hear the part where Mav was making fun of how the only person Bradley wants to date will be on daddy-daughter date…) and when they come back, Bradley is elbows deep in weeding the garden. They have some slushies together and both he and Angie breathe easier but Jake doesn’t stop being kinda bothered that Bradley no longer goes with him and Angie.

Why are you and daddy not together? Do you not like him like that anymore? And how do you explain it all to a kid? Jake tries to go through with the kid-friendly parents don’t have to be together to love their kid and be friendly and she’s like, I’m twelve not five, I know that. So he just tells her the truth, that he likes her daddy very much but sometimes things get complicated and he doesn’t want Bradley to feel pressured. But he’s really happy when you’re around?

The first time Angie calls him dad without prompting/a minute of hesitation, they’re talking about this again when he’s taking her to the cinema at the mall. She asks again why don’t you just ask him out? Daddy always says people need to use their words if they want something and it’s on point and endearing, but he just tries to brush it off and tell her he and Bradley just met again and it’ll take some time. You need to put the work in, dad is what she tell him, all cheeky. I’ll help you.

(Jake doesn’t know this, but any chance she has, she’s prodding Bradley about this as well. And sure, Bradley has a lot of leftover feeling for Jake, but he thinks it’s better if he doesn’t act on them — he still feels guilty about disappearing and he feels like Jake was just a bit overwhelmed at the beginning and that’s why he wanted to jump in where they left. Now that they cooled off and the whole co-parenting thing is working, he’s surely calmed down on the idea. )

Next time Jake takes Angie out to buy her some new shoes for school, they’re all done when she decides, we’re going to buy stuff for your date with daddy. And sure enough, she’s got a whole plan — he needs to buy nicer clothes (You can’t wear another plaid shirt, dad) and get Bradley a gift and some flowers (he likes sunflowers but they never grow right in our garden) and tells Jake he needs to buy a picnic basket and get some nice food when she tells him to.

It’s all set in motion, by Angie. She texts Jake to come and pick her up (daddy will think we’re going to the beach) and take her to Mav’s, where she will stay the night when Jake will put the work in.

He doesn’t believe he’s got himself talked into this by a twelve year old, but sure enough, an hour after he picked Angie up, he’s back at Bradley’s house, sunflowers and Bradley’s favorite chocolates in hand, full picnic basket in his car. And sure enough, when Bradley opens the door, all doubt just disappears.

They go on a date. They talk. Jake takes Bradley back home and Bradley asks him if he wants to stay the night. Things get rekindled.

He stays the night and just kinda, well, never leaves.

(Meanwhile, Angie and Mav make a whole presentation about how this means she should either get a baby sister or a puppy. You know, because if Jake moves in with them, that means they will have the time and energy and the extra helping hands for either — maybe even both. And Mav would love a second grandkid or a puppy, he’s not picky, especially now that he’s retired.)

[andreafmn]

12 Days of Ficmas ❅ Day 1

Word Count: 4.8K Paring:  Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader Prompt @alloftheprompts: Character A and Character B broke up but now they meet at a Christmas party.

Summary: In unpredictable Beacon Hills, Stiles and (Y/N) being together was one of the only things that made sense. But sometimes the smallest of changes can create the biggest of chaos. And a simple college admission letter can do just that. Maybe all it takes is the right Christmas gift to make things better.

A/N: yup, that's right, I'm doing 12 Days of Ficmas again (even if I haven't finished Kinktober 🫣🫣 but I am nothing if not a masochist (and a slight procrastinator) But enjoy!! This story actually made me tear up, honestly. But it wouldn't be one of my stories if there wasn't an insane amount of angst 😅 Also, disclaimer, I have not seen the last two seasons of Teen Wolf or the movie so, sorry for any inconsistencies.

Next ->

“Let’s just get this over with,” (Y/N) sighed as she fixed the Santa hat on top of her head. “They don’t have to know yet.”

“Yeah,” Stiles grimaced. “It’s better to wait until after the holidays, I guess.”

It was the first time Stiles and (Y/N) had ever been terrified to enter Scott’s house and face all of their friends. Even worse, they had to pretend everything was fine between them. 

Since they were little, the pair had been inseparable. Being next-door neighbors allowed them to grow close at a rapid pace. It was in her that he found solace on the nights his mother’s illness would take the best of her mind. He would run over to her house and climb the lattice that ran all the way up to her room. 

And she wouldn’t ask questions. (Y/N) would simply let him in through her window and distract him until he eventually drifted off to sleep. She did not need any explanations or reasons to comfort Stiles. She simply knew he needed her, and so she was there for him. Because if there was anything she knew of, it was the pain of slowly losing a parent.

They shared a bond that no one could break. Even as Scott entered their duo and they became the perfect trio, Stiles and (Y/N) shared a connection like no other. So, it came as no surprise to anyone when they got together. Even after Stiles had continuously professed his love for Lydia. Even after (Y/N) and Boyd had a quick fling. Everyone knew that it would be the two of them at the end of the day. 

What no one expected was that one day, they wouldn’t be Stiles and (Y/N) anymore. Hell, not even they had seen it coming. 

Their downfall had begun the second week of December. For some reason, the couple had not spoken about what happened after high school. In their senior year, they were focusing on the present, leaving the future where it was. Because what they didn’t know couldn’t hurt them. 

(Y/N) had applied under early action to various colleges, thinking nothing of it. But there was one college that had been her dream since her father had passed, and that was her only early decision application. She had worked every day since to make sure she was at least close to being accepted. But it was never a sure thing. 

She had promised herself to put it in the back of her mind. Stressing over that envelope would only drive her into madness. As much as she wanted it to be true, she knew the reality of the situation. The chances she could ever get in, much less with a full ride, were slim to none. And hoping only made things worse.

Still, that hadn’t stopped her from applying; it hadn’t stopped her from wishing. 

“Honey,” her mother had said one afternoon after she got home from school. “Look what came in the mail.” 

In her hands, there was a white manila envelope with blue lettering that clearly read: University of Oxford. 

(Y/N) could have sworn she could feel her heart in her throat, beating at an unnatural pace and threatening to leap out of her body. She crossed the distance between her front door to the kitchen faster than she had ever done before, needing to feel the paper in her hands. Only seeing it was not proof enough that it was real. 

“I don’t think I can open it,” the girl worried. “What if it’s bad, mom?”

“You won’t know unless you see, my darling,” she smiled softly. “But no matter what, you will still be the most impressive young lady I have known. And any college would be lucky to have you.”

With trembling hands, she broke open the envelope and pulled out a beautiful and crisp piece of white paper. “Dear (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” she read before taking a steadying breath. “It is with greatest pleasure that we inform you that the Admissions Comittee has decided to offer you admission to Oxford University through our binding Early Decision (ED) option on a full scholarship.”

As (Y/N) read those words, tears spilled from her eyes, and the papers fell from her hands. Her mother wrapped her arms tightly around her, showering her with words of love and encouragement. It had been everything she had worked for. Something not even the supernaturals of the world could take from her. 

“You’re going to Oxford, baby girl,” her mother cooed. “I knew you could. Your dad would have been just as proud as I am.” 

That moment should have been the happiest in her life so far. But there was a dark cloud that lingered over her as she celebrated. She had not told anyone she was applying to a college so far away, much less the reason she would be doing so. Mostly because she was terrified she wouldn’t get in. But part of her knew it was because she was leaving all her friends behind, leaving Stiles behind. And that was the hardest part. 

For the rest of the week, as she celebrated internally, she hid the biggest news of her life from all of her friends and the boy she had deemed the love of her life. Anyone would have thought she was the one harboring a secret supernatural life with the way she was guarding her secret. And, maybe it shouldn’t have been something she kept to herself. Maybe they would have all been excited for her and understood the reason for the distance. But something deep in her stopped her every single time. 

If her friends had noticed there was anything different from her demeanor, they didn’t say a thing. In the midst of final exams and the Christmas holidays soon approaching, everyone seemed to be stuck in their own heads. So, if they were in their heads, they couldn’t know there was something happening in hers.  

But that Friday night, at the same hour Stiles would always sneak in, (Y/N) knew there was no way she could continue to hide her secret any longer. 

“Come on,” he chuckled as he jumped onto her bed, holding his arms open. “Tell me what’s going on with you.” 

“What do you mean?” she said, forcing a smile. “Why do you say that?”

“You know you can’t lie to me. I may not have super hearing, but I can tell, (Y/N).” 

“Yeah,” she chuckled softly. “You know me too well.” 

“Of course I do,” he smiled as he crossed the distance between them and caressed the softness of her cheek. “Now, please, tell me what’s wrong?” 

That was it. That was the moment that had changed them, the moment that had broken them. 

(Y/N) took a steadying breath and took his hands in hers, focusing on the veins on his hands rather than his worried eyes. “I got a letter last week,” she started with a sigh. “I told you about all the colleges I had applied to as early action.” 

“Of course, you bright mind, you,” he said. “Did you already start getting the acceptance letters?” 

“Uh, there’s another college I actually applied to. Early decision.”

“Like binding early decision?”

“Yeah, exactly,” she said, her voice trembling as she spoke. “I, uh, I applied to the University of Oxford. And I got in.”

Instead of embracing her, Stiles dropped her hands, taking a step away from her. “In England?” he asked as though he was offended. “Why would you wanna go that far?”

“It’s not about the distance,” she grimaced, finally meeting his hurt eyes. “It’s about what that school means. That’s where my dad went to school. That’s the place my parents met. That was the school that started my entire life, Stiles.” 

“So, why didn’t you tell me about it? If it was so damn important, why did you never mention it?” Stiles seethed, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “You wanna start a new life, is that it? Follow in your parents’ footsteps and meet the love of your life there? Great, (Y/N). And you made sure you did it in a way you couldn’t back out.”

“Stiles, that’s not…”

“So, what? Were you gonna wait until graduation to tell me that you were moving halfway across the world to get away from us? From me?” the boy cried. “Or were you simply going to disappear and start a new life without telling anyone? But I guess that’s your thing now, huh? Keeping big shit like this until you can’t anymore.”

“That’s not fair, Stiles,” she frowned, hugging her arms tightly across her torso. “I didn’t want to get my hopes up, so I didn’t say anything. That doesn’t mean that I would have never told you about it. I’m not looking to escape. I’m looking to start my future.” 

“And it looks like you were starting it without me then,” he croaked. “What does that mean for us, (Y/N)? We ride it out until graduation, and then you leave for the rest of your life?” 

“I don’t… you wanna b-break up?” 

“It’s inevitable now, isn’t it?” Stiles said in a tone that broke her more than the words he was speaking. “You’re gonna be in England, and I’m gonna be god knows where. It’s better just to do it now.” 

That night was nothing like she had imagined it would be. She had hoped Stiles would have been excited for her and promised her everything would be alright. That somehow he would have the answers to how they could withstand so much distance because they had to make it. Out of everyone in their friend group, those two had to make it. 

Instead, it had taken a turn for the worse. One second, Stiles was standing before her with a smile on his face, and the next, he was leaving through her window with tears streaming down his face. What she had most been dreading was that scenario to play out, and a week before their friend’s holiday party, it had. They had gone through life-threatening and mind-boggling situations, but it was a college acceptance letter that broke them apart. 

The coming days (Y/N) spent buried in bed. Although she should have been celebrating one of her biggest achievements –other than saving lives and defeating many, many creatures– she had wasted more tears during that time than she had done the past years of her life. She was distraught and defeated, and she had no idea how she would make it through the last semester of high school, much less how she would have made it through a Christmas party. 

Somehow, they had arrived at Scott’s house at the same time, even after she had made sure she left twenty minutes after Stiles. The universe liked to play its mean tricks, but that one was almost unforgivable. 

“Let’s just try to stay out of each other’s way,” he grimaced. “The less we are near each other, the harder it’ll be for them to find out.” 

“Harder to find out what?” Scott asked as he swung the front door open, his signature goofy grin stretched across his mouth. Instinctively, Stiles draped his arm around (Y/N)’s shoulders and smiled brightly. “Ooh, did you bring your brownies, (Y/N)?” 

“Yeah,” she smiled. “Still warm from the oven.” 

“Wouldn’t be a party without them,” Stiles commented. “Now, let us in. It’s kinda cold out tonight.” 

The second they were inside, Stiles broke for the living room while (Y/N) moved to the kitchen with Scott. She set the tray on the overfilled kitchen island, noticing to the side that the dinner table was perfectly set up. “Oh, the table looks nice,” she commented. “But I thought we’d be doing something more low-key.” 

“Yeah,” he chuckled awkwardly. “Lydia thought it’d be fun to do a more grown-up dinner party.” 

“Yeah. Place settings and everything.” 

“We were waiting for you guys to start eating,” he said. “We’re doing gifts after.” 

“Sounds like a plan.” 

Slowly, the rest of the group trickled into the kitchen, greeting and hugging (Y/N) as they looked over all the food and served themselves their plates. And, of course, her seat was right next to Stiles’. Even if she had wanted to sit anywhere else, the rest had already taken their assigned seats, and the only open spot was the one that had her name. 

She gave her ex-boyfriend a small smile, looking anywhere but into the brown of his eyes. Her heart beat against her chest, threatening to jump out of her body. It made her fidgety as everyone ate, thinking any of the wereanimals around her would be able to tell how she was feeling. 

But Scott was laughing with Stiles, Malia was talking to Lydia, and Hayden, Liam, and Mason had their own conversation running. (Y/N) was all by herself. She was surrounded by all the people she loved, but it was the loneliest she had felt in a long time. Without the usual comforting words from Stiles, she couldn’t help but feel so out of place. It was the happiest time of the year, but the girl was miserable, and it hurt that it didn’t seem like the boy she loved was sad as well. 

“Alright,” Lydia spoke up as everyone ignored their mostly empty plates. “Now that our bellies are full, I think it’s time for Secret Santa! And I truly hope you all kept it a secret this time.” 

“Not that it’d matter anyway,” Liam chuckled. “We all know we ask for help every time.” 

“Anyways,” she said, ignoring the soft laughter that erupted from the group. “Let’s go to the living room, and (Y/N) you’ll go first.”

“Oh, uh, sure,” she smiled as she followed the group into the living room. She crouched under the decorated Christmas tree, pulling out the gift that had been there for almost two weeks. “I got Lydia.” 

“How wonderful!” the redhead mused, quick to hug her friend and rip away the wrapping paper. Inside the gift box was a mosaic picture of Lydia, Allison, and (Y/N), the first time they had finally considered each other friends. “Oh, it’s beautiful! I wish I could take it with me everywhere.” 

“It was hard to get it just right, but I loved how it turned out.” 

“It’s perfect, (Y/N),” she beamed. “Thank you.” 

“Of course. I love you, Lids.” 

“Love you too,” the girl said as she wrapped her friend in a tighter hug. “My turn!”

Lydia had gifted Liam nine books out of his TBR list —nine because of his lacrosse number. Then, Liam gifted Scott a new leather jacket so he could “actually look cool when riding his motorcycle,” Liam snickered. Scott then gifted Malia a light blue hoodie to add to her ever-growing collection, while Malia gifted Hayden a journal and pen set, saying it was for when her mind felt too busy. After a warm smile and a hug, she announced her gift was for Mason, laughing as he pulled out an ugly cat sweater. Once the loud laughter subsided, Mason gifted Stiles a massage mat for his Jeep. 

“For when you’re taking really long drives,” the boy smiled, clearly proud of himself. “There’s quite some distance between here and D.C. It’ll come in handy.” 

“Yeah,” he chuckled as he hugged Mason. “Thanks, man. It’s great.” 

“Don’t mention it.”

As Mason sat back down, Stiles cleared his throat as he pulled the last gift. Everyone knew by then who it was for. There was no one else left. “Well, I guess you all know who this is for,” he said. “I hope you like it, (Y/N).” 

The girl received the bag with a soft smile, trying her best to swallow the tears that were threatening to spill. She had forgotten for a second how cruel the universe could be. She pulled out the white tissue paper first before finding a beautiful brown bear dressed in a blue knit sweater. Around its neck, there was a necklace with something she could only assume was a soundwave. With curiosity washing over her, she looked to Stiles for an explanation. 

“Uh, so, it’ll make a lot more sense if you press the bear’s hand,” he stammered. Once she died as told, the sound broke her. From deep in the belly of the teddy bear, her father’s voice rang out, singing the words of “You Are My Sunshine.” There was not a single night when she was little that her father didn’t sing that to her, and even as she grew old for the lullaby, he would call her sunshine. “I got a recording from your mom of your dad singing the song when you were a baby,” Stiles spoke over the music. “And the necklace is the image of the soundwave of your dad calling you sunshine.” 

Tears had long since fallen down her cheeks, clutching the bear in her arms as though it was her own father. With her eyes closed, it was almost as though he was right there, singing to her. But it was what came after the song that shattered her. “You’re gonna do great things, (Y/N),” her father said through the bear. “I love you forever, my little sunshine.” 

At that moment, all she wanted to do was hug Stiles and kiss him like she had done a million times before. That was the boy she had fallen in love with. The one that cared and listened. The one that had made her heart race and her stomach turn into butterflies. She wanted to tell him she loved him and never let him go, but she couldn’t. Just like she could never do with her father. 

“I, uh,” she said as she stood from the couch, feeling as though she would faint in the crowded room. “I need some air.” 

(Y/N) stammered her way out of the living room and through the front door, only allowing herself to break down when she was at the end of the driveway. She fell to her knees and hugged the bear to her chest as she cried, letting the hurt that had accumulated over the years spill onto the pavement. In less than six months, she was going to walk into a new life halfway across the globe without the support of her father and now, without the support of Stiles. All alone. 

She should have been celebrating. She knew that. She should have been crying tears of joy and jumping into her love’s arms. Instead, it was the bear’s arms that she could feel. The softness of its fur, the sound of her father’s voice. 

Without even realizing it, she had begun singing along to the lullaby, sniffling between words as the tears didn’t relent. “You’re gonna do great things, (Y/N),” her father said once more through the bear. “I love you forever, my little sunshine.” 

“I love you too, dad,” she cried. 

“Hey,” his voice startled her. Through teary eyes, she looked up to find Stiles draping a jacket over her shoulders. He slid to the ground next to her, facing the house before them as she was now. “I’m sorry. I bought the gift weeks ago, and I wasn’t sure if I was still allowed to give it to you.” 

“No, it was… i-it was perfect,” she stammered, running her hand over the bear’s fur. “It’s just everything rushed over me. Like the breakup, the fact that I won’t be here next year, the fact that my dad won’t even see me gradua…”

Another string of sobs ransacked (Y/N)’s body, but that time it wasn’t the bear she was hugging. Stiles had wrapped his arms around her, pressing her into his chest. She could smell his cologne and feel his warmth, a feeling she had missed for the past seven days. All she wanted was to melt into his touch and profess to him all that she felt. But she couldn’t. Not anymore. Because he didn’t want it. 

“I didn’t want things to be this way,” she cried into his chest. “I didn’t want everything to fall apart.” 

Stiles remained quiet as she cried, a hard feat for someone like him. But he let her cry and cry until only quiet sniffles filled the air. Because he hadn’t wanted things to be that way either. 

He knew he had overreacted. When he had told (Y/N) his plans of enrolling in George Washington University all the way across the county, she had told him they could make it work. Especially if she got into any of the ivy leagues she had applied to on the East Coast. It had been fine. Hell, it had been perfect. 

But when she told him that she wouldn’t just be a couple of states away but that she would be on another continent, he couldn’t help but let his abandonment issues take control. 

He knew she was brilliant. He knew she deserved to do and be all that she had dreamed. But he feared that once she achieved all of her goals, he would just not fit into her life anymore. 

“You’re gonna go on to do great things, (Y/N),” he sighed sadly as her tears stopped. “You’re gonna go to Oxford, just like your parents, and you’re gonna probably graduate at the top of your class on your way. And I’ll be here —well, in Washington, technically—cheering you on.”

“But why couldn’t we be great together, Stiles? We couldn’t we both go on to do great things, together?”

“Come on, (Y/N). Once you’re there, you’re gonna meet so many people, and you’ll have guys falling on their knees for you,” he chuckled dryly. “I won’t fit into your new world. I mean, you said it yourself: that’s where your parents met and your life began. And now, maybe you’ll have a new beginning. And years from today, we’ll run into each other, and you’ll tell me about your job and your husband and your kids, and I’ll be so happy for you. Because you serve all the love and happiness in the world, even if it’s without me.”

“Have you even asked yourself if that’s what I want?” (Y/N) asked as she left his warm embrace, her red eyes boring into his. “I’m not leaving because I’m searching for a new life. I want to go to Oxford because it’s one of the last things I can share with my dad. I can walk down the same halls he did, I can take classes in the same classrooms, and eat at the same places he did. But I was always going to come back, Stiles. Because my friends are here, my mom is here, because you are here. I don’t want to run into you and talk about another man or the kids I would have with him. I don’t want to run into you at all. I want to walk beside you, Stiles. If I ever have kids, it’s only if they’re a part of you too,” she cried, fresh tears falling down her already-stained cheeks. “If you don’t love me anymore, then fine. I can understand that, and I can walk away. But don’t you dare say that you wouldn’t fit into my life because you’ve been there longer than anyone I know, and I need you to be there until the end. Because I already lost someone important to me and I can’t lose you too. Not you.” 

“(Y/N), I don’t want to lose you either,” he sobbed. “But how can we fight with the distance? How could we ever withstand the fact that we’ll be an ocean away?”

“We have gone through worse battles than a plane ride, Stiles. We have been on the brink of death more times this past year than any person would in their lifetime. Do you really think being in a different time zone is the limit to our relationship? I know the future isn’t promised but you were the one person I always knew would be there.”

“I’m scared, okay?! I’m scared that you’ll meet someone better than me, (Y/N). I’m terrified that you’ll realize that maybe I’m not the guy that can give you your happy ever after,” he finally confessed. His voice croaked, and his chest heaved as the words fell out of his mouth faster than he could ever stop them. “This week has been torture without you. But it’s made me realize that Beacon Hills has always been too small for you. After May, you’re gonna go out there and find your place. And this town will be nothing but a memory you’ll come back to.”

“There is no one better for me than you, Stiles, and Beacon Hills will always be my home,” she replied softly. Her cold hand found his cheek, and she wiped away his tears with her thumb. “I don’t want to know a life where you’re not there. You can’t give up on us without even trying, Stiles. You just can’t.” 

Without thinking twice, (Y/N) crashed her lips onto his, sinking into the warmth of his mouth. After a week, kissing him felt like the very first time. It was desperate and filled with need —the need for closeness and passion, the need for love. Instinctively, Stiles’ hands found her waist and pulled her closer to him, wondering how he ever thought he could live without her touch. 

“I love you, Stiles, and I don’t even want to think about ever having to love someone else,” she whispered as she parted from him. “My heart belongs to you. And if this is the end, it’ll still remain in your hands.” 

“I couldn’t love anyone else like I love you, (Y/N),” he replied with a soft smile. “But I just can’t help the thoughts that flood my brain sometimes.” 

“Then don’t listen to them and listen to me when I say that since the moment I met you, I’ve known you were it for me. There is no other man waiting for me in Oxford. It’s you, and it will always be you,” (Y/N) said before kissing him softly once more. “You’re the best thing that has happened to me, Stiles Stilinski, and you’re the only thing that I want to keep happening to me.”

“I can’t believe I ever broke up with you. Especially during Christmas,” Stiles chuckled as he rested his forehead against hers, flicking the tip of her nose with his own. “It was honestly the worst week of my life.” 

“Including being possessed?” Scott’s voice startled them as he came into view. “Although, I get it because this was completely avoidable.”

(Y/N) chuckled as she took Scott’s extended hand and got on her feet, wiping away any tears that still remained. “Did you hear that whole thing?”

“More or less,” he chuckled. “It’s a bit hard not to when I was coming to see if you guys were okay.” 

“We’re good now, Scotty,” Stiles grinned. “Just had some unresolved feelings to work, though.” 

“Can you not mention the whole thing about the breakup? I don’t wanna make it a whole thing.”

“That’s a bit hard, (Y/N),” Malia called from the open front door. “We all kind of already know.”

“Oh, cool, great,” she said as she hid in Stile’s embrace. “That’s not embarrassing at all.”

“Eh, at least our parents are back together,” Liam commented. “Best Christmas present.” 

“It really is, huh?” Stiles whispered as he kissed the top of her head. 

“Yes. Very cute and adorable,” Lydia added in a desperate tone. “Now, can we go back inside before Hayden and Mason finish all the brownies?”

As the group walked back into the house, Stiles and (Y/N) shared one more moment together on the front porch. “Hey, look up,” Stiles said with a smile. “Mistletoe.”

“Funny that they’d hang that at a werewolf's home,” she chuckled. “Although, I’m pretty sure that one’s plastic.”

“And I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to kiss me.”

“Maybe I’m waiting for another guy to kiss under the plant.” Stiles frowned at her words, and all she could do was laugh. “Too soon?”

“Much,” he said. “Now, come here.”

He snaked his hands on either side of her face and kissed her passionately. He kissed her for every day they had spent apart. He kissed her for every hurtful word he had spewed. He kissed her as a promise of his love for her. Stiles kissed her like she was his future. 

Next ->

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[charincharge]

I Don't Want To Wait, seventy-one

rowaelin high school bff au masterlist

TW: College admissions. Sorry if you’re going through this now! Also, I went through this a longgggggggg time ago, and I know this isn’t exactly how admissions works, so apologies for creative liberties. I was supposed to post this before Aelin's birthday, but I missed May 3. Just by two days, though, so not too shabby! Okay, lets go. Final stretch, my loves.

“What do you mean you don’t want to celebrate your birthday?” Rowan scoffed. “Ace, you love your birthday.”

Aelin stretched her arms overhead and reached to touch her toes, ignoring the way her boyfriend stared at her with his usual hawklike intensity and instead leaned into her shins, helping relieve the ache from sore and overworked muscles. Dance practices had been relentless on her body, especially with the spring showcase just a few weeks away, she seemed to be in perpetual knots always.

Well, she guessed she couldn’t just blame dance on that. She was having a hard time with everything at the moment. While her friends were smiling and laughing at their last few weeks of high school, Aelin was feeling an acute sense of panic. The weeks following spring break had melted away faster than she could process, gone in the blink of an eye, filled with an onslaught of dance practices and AP exam prep and constantly checking her inbox for that little email notification from Wendlyn. And not nearly enough Rowan, who was spending all his free time with his lacrosse team. Not only that but everyone around her seemed more excited than ever with the prospect of leaving Orynth right around the corner, but with each passing day the knot in her stomach grew tighter. Everything was a ~last~ —and she was having a hard time enjoying that. She didn’t want any of this to be her last. Why was everyone excited that time was moving so fast? Why couldn’t she just freeze right here in this moment. In this limbo things were stressful, but they were still fine. Without knowing what her fate held.

College acceptances had come rolling in, one by one, her friends grinning wildly as they opened their emails. But Aelin’s inbox remained woefully empty. So, she wanted her boyfriend to forgive her for not feeling particularly celebratory, but then again, she hadn’t discussed any of this with him for fear of making him feel guilty about it.

As she breathed into her next stretch, she turned her torso to look back at Rowan, who was still waiting patiently for her response.

“My birthday last year was a disaster,” Aelin finally replied, completely ignoring the real reason she was feeling less-than-enthused. “How quickly they forget.”

But Rowan just rolled his eyes. “That was an exception. I have a feeling that no one is going to get arrested or go to rehab this year. Usually your birthday is all you can talk about for months. Are you really telling me you haven’t planned anything? For your eighteenth birthday?” he asked. “It’s in less than a week.”

Aelin shrugged, leaning to the other side and groaning as she stretched out a particularly tender muscle.

“I just don’t want to do anything this year,” she said. “The spring dance show is in two weeks, and I’ve been practicing every night. So, for my birthday I just want the night off.” She paused. “Is that really so bad?”

“No…” Rowan said quietly, picking up his phone and furrowing his brow. She’d know that face anywhere. He looked concerned.

“What?” she snapped and immediately regretted it when she saw Rowan’s face. He didn’t deserve to be the receptacle of her stress or ire. All he wanted was to make sure she had the birthday she wanted. Her sweet, sweet Rowan. “Sorry,” she apologized quickly. “I’m just…”

“Tired?” Rowan filled in, and she nodded and lifted her arms above her head, extending them out for him. He swooped in quickly and helped her to her feet, enveloping her in a warm and comforting embrace. “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered into her hair, and she could feel her tension melting away with each one of his butterfly kisses.

Aelin finally looked up at him, and his worried green eyes were staring back down at her. “I’m so tired, Ro,” she admitted as she squeezed him against her tighter. “The idea of doing something big for my birthday just seems like so much work.”

“It’s just a big one,” he replied softly. “I don’t want you to regret not celebrating.”

“And I appreciate that,” she said, letting herself melt into his chest fully. His heartbeat helped center her, and she rued the day that she wouldn’t have it there for her at a moment’s notice. “But I just want to hang out with you, eat too much chocolate cake and maybe go to sleep early.”

“So I should tell Lorcan to cancel the surprise trip to the strip club?” Rowan asked. Aelin’s head shot up, and her boyfriend’s answering smirk was telling enough.

“You almost had me there,” she said.

“He tried,” Rowan laughed, “But I shut him down pretty quickly.”

“What kind of strip club are we talking about?” she asked, causing Rowan’s worried expression to disappear, as she intended. As Rowan explained how he had to talk Lorcan off the ledge, Aelin took out her phone and needlessly refreshed her phone over and over. But her inbox remained unchanged.

. . .

“Stay calm and vote Manon and Elide as queens for prom!” Dorian shouted while shoving a rainbow flyer into a passerby’s hands. “A vote for Manon and Elide is a vote against The Man!” he continued, causing Aelin to snort into one of the crown-adorned cupcakes Maeve had contributed to the cause. Dorian had taken it upon himself to run point for Manon and Elide’s prom queen campaign and had recruited Aelin to help him during their shared free period. Not that he needed the help. Orynth High had rallied around the pair of women, and there was no doubt as to who would sweep the vote, but it was still something that Aelin could do without that horrible nauseous feeling taking over her entire body – which might have been helped by the fact that Dorian was also still waiting for a college acceptance email, and so the pair of them were happy to use lifting up their friends as a distraction. Or at least use it as a reprieve from constantly refreshing their email. He’d received a few rejections and was pinning all his hopes on one last college.

“A vote for Manon and Elide is a vote for equality!” he shouted, offering up his own plate of cupcakes to a nearby freshman, who accepted it readily.

As if they’d heard their names called, the pair rounded the corner, hand in hand, smiling softly at each other. Manon pulled away for a second as she tied up her newly dyed turquoise hair into a messy bun, causing Elide to sigh dreamily. Aelin watched as they slid their fingers tighter as they came back together and leaned into each other’s shoulders. They’d both received their acceptances to Perranth, a small liberal arts school nearby, earlier this week and the pair hadn’t stopped smiling since. Aelin was happy for her friends; honestly, she was. But that didn’t stop her stomach from churning with jealousy at the fact that they were going off into their post-high school future together.

“Oooh, are those Maeve cupcakes?!” Elide asked, eyeing the funfetti confection in Dorian’s hand. He lifted the plate, offering it up, and Elide wasted no time in grabbing it and shoving half of it into her mouth.

“Sooooo good,” she mumbled around a mouthful of crumbs. Manon rolled her eyes at her girlfriend’s enthusiasm and used one of her long nails to brush away a bit of frosting from above her lip. Unable to control herself, she swooped down and kissed the spot she’d cleaned, as if to make sure it was completely free of sugar.

“And I thought Rowan and I were disgusting,” Aelin laughed.

“You are,” her friends all said in unison, not wasting a single beat.

Aelin flipped them all off, burying her face into her own cupcake instead as Manon asked Dorian for a status update on his polling info. She was taking this extremely seriously, and it kind of warmed Aelin’s heart to see her cold friend use her ruthlessness for good. Well, for Elide’s good.

Though they were deep in conversation about numbers and which cliques were voting for whom, Dorian stopped and gasped loudly.

“What?” Manon asked, and Dorian opened his phone and showed it to them.

In bold at the top of his email inbox was a brand new email, waiting in bold from Anielle University with the subject: Dorian Havillard, Application Status.

“Oh my god, OPEN IT!” Manon shouted as she reached for the phone, but Dorian clutched it to his chest in horror.

“NO!”

“No?” Aelin asked, raising a brow in his direction.

“I can’t open this in the middle of the hallway,” he hissed. “What if it’s a rejection?”

Aelin’s chest panged with sympathy. She knew how hard Dorian had worked this year with volunteering at the hospital and all his APs to get into the college of his dreams. Aka, one far away from his father. Anielle was as far as it got, and it was a great school, too. Not to mention it was the last one he was waiting to hear from.

“Do it when you’re ready,” she said. “Don’t let these college admits pressure you,” she continued.

“Ah, fuck it,” he said. He closed his eyes tightly as he pressed the bolded link. He took a deep breath, and cracked an eye open before shutting it again. “I can’t look. Someone look for me.”

“Give me that,” Manon grumbled, pulling the phone out of Dorian’s white-knuckled grasp. As a wide smile appeared on her face, Aelin’s stomach clenched further. She knew what that look meant. “Look yourself,” Manon said, handing the phone back to Dorian, whose eyes were still clenched tightly closed.

He blindly groped for the phone before Aelin shoved it into his wandering hand. “Congrats,” she whispered, knowing what the email would say without even seeing it herself.

Dorian’s eyes shot open, darting across the screen as that very same smile she’d seen on all her friends one-by-one ripped across his face.

Aelin tried to smile back as Manon and Elide crowded him with high fives and hugs and lifted celebratory cupcakes into the air and cheersed them together. Aelin refreshed her own inbox, but there was nothing there. Of course there wasn’t. At this point she was just assuming that she would have to reapply to colleges next year and maybe do community college locally for the year. That would be fine, though. She’d continue to teach dance and maybe volunteer at the hospital some more. Get some real-life work experience. Plus, she’d have time to drive out to Wendlyn and see Rowan on the weekends, if he still wanted her to do that, of course.

“Still nothing?” Elide asked Aelin, having noticed her quiet smile.

Aelin shrugged. “I’m sure I’ll get the rejection soon,” she laughed. “I just wished they’d do it sometime soon and put me out of my misery.”

Elide reached across the table and squeezed Aelin’s tense shoulder. “I know this is going to sound patronizing, but I mean it. If they reject you, it’ll be their loss.” She paused. “Have you talked to your mom, asked her if there’s anything she can do?”

Aelin physically blanched at the mention. “No. Not since the interview debacle.” She cringed more, realizing that her mom would most-likely be calling her on her birthday in just a few days, and she’d be wondering what Aelin’s status was. And Aelin would have to admit that she as a disappointment, just as she always assumed she’d be.

Yet another reason why she would not be in the mood to celebrate turning the big one eight. She’d need a full day to recover from whatever her mom said to her. She tried to remember if Evalin had ever forgotten her birthday before. She was pretty sure she had. And those years had hurt, had made her want to celebrate her birthday even harder. But she wasn’t sure if talking to her this year would be worse than not hearing from her at all. I guess only time would tell.

Instead of wallowing in her feelings, Aelin joined the celebratory cupcake party, drowning her feelings in Maeve’s delicious buttercream frosting, and hoped yet again for a single email to arrive and put her out of her misery.

. . .

Three days later, Aelin woke up to a small nudge against her nose. Then a soft kiss to one cheek, then to her other.

“Five more minutes,” she groaned, causing the offending kisser to laugh against the soft skin of her neck as his kisses trailed down toward her shoulder. “I’m serious, Buzzard, fuck off,” she said, but it lacked any real vitriol. After all, the man of her dreams was kissing every inch of her skin as thoroughly as he could while still being gentle enough to rouse her from her dreams with ease.

“Happy Birthday, Ace” he whispered as his lips ghosted over hers.

She finally cracked her eye all the way open and couldn’t help but smile widely at the sight of Rowan kneeling beside her bed, a sparkling glint in her best friend’s eye as she came to life beneath his gaze.

“Eighteen years old,” she whispered back, her voice still hoarse from hours of sleep.

“I know you said you wanted chocolate cake,” he said, “So I considered making you my poor attempts at breakfast cake again,” he laughed, reminding her of the day she’d woken up on her sixteenth birthday and resolved herself to kiss her best friend within that year. How far away that birthday now seemed, even though it was a mere two years ago. They were different people then. They hadn’t known how much they’d go through, how much life they’d live together to come out of it in this moment on her birthday again. Together. “But I decided to do you a solid and just bring a chocolate fudge cake for breakfast. Because you’re a grownup now. And grownups eat chocolate fudge cake for breakfast.”

She loved that despite their long history that Rowan still rambled when he got nervous with her. She grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him close, kissing him thoroughly. Her tongue slid between his lips and he groaned in response, kissing her harder and letting himself fall on top of her, despite still being on his knees.

“Maybe my first act as an official adult should be having morning sex with my boyfriend,” she mumbled against his lips, tugging him closer. He kissed her back, but shook his head and pulled away, causing her to pout sadly.

“As much as I would love that, your dad is downstairs.”

Aelin closed her eyes and stuck out her hand, revealing a thumbs down. Rowan laughed heartily, and she loved the way it made her feel dizzy.

“But we can eat some cake first,” he said, handing her a fork.

“Thanks, Rowan,” she said in a rare moment of sincerity between the two, not joking at all, and she loved the way his cheeks colored with a dark pink as his head ducked.

“I love you,” he simply replied. And though Aelin had dreaded the approach of this day, she relished in the fact that this boy – her best friend – loved her. For right now, that was good enough.

. . .

“Happy birthday, baby,” Rhoe said, enveloping Aelin into a warm hug.

Aelin quirked a brow up at her dad, who was not usually this sentimental, but she accepted the hug regardless.

“Shut up,” he said, chuckling softly as he pulled back. “It’s the last time I’m going to be with you on your birthday morning, and I deserve a hug. As a reward for getting you to eighteen at the very least. I think I did an okay job,” he said, looking her over.

“You did more than okay, Rhoe” Rowan said, pouring a large cup of coffee into Aelin’s favorite mug and then handing it to her. “You did amazing.”

“You’re already forgiven for waking me up too early,” Aelin laughed, but accepted the coffee nonetheless. “Mmmm, hazelnut,” she said, appreciating that her household had made her favorite flavor, despite not loving it themselves.

“DID I MISS IT?!” Lorcan asked, his voice breathless as he burst his way into the kitchen.

“Missed what?” Aelin asked, looking around at the empty kitchen.

“The gifting of porn and cigarettes, obviously,” Lorcan said with a wry smirk. But Aelin just rolled her eyes.

Her dad narrowed his eyes and looked at Lorcan with disdain. “You’re so lucky I like you.”

Lorcan’s grin only widened in response. “Happy eighteenth, slugger,” he laughed, handing Aelin a pile of scratch-off lotto tickets. “Don’t spend it all in one place.”

Rhoe’s lips curled into an unwitting smile as he wrapped his arm around Aelin’s shoulders, tugging her close once again.

“Dad?”  

“Lorcan is being an absolute idiot, like he always is.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, I know you’re still waiting for official replies, but no matter where you end up next year…” Rhoe began. “I’d like you to be able to come and visit as much as you like.”

He pulled something from his pocket and handed it to Aelin. “Happy birthday, Aelin.” He looked around the room. “From all three of us.”

Aelin looked at the men in the room, staring back at her, before processing that the thing now resting in Aelin’s hand was a key. Not just a key. But a car key.

“SHUT UP,” she said, her eyes widening. “SHUT UP!”

“I will not,” Rhoe said, but he couldn’t help but smile.

Aelin sprinted for the door before anyone could stop her, and she was practically crying as she reached the driveway where a dark green sedan waited for her.  

“She’s old, but we gave her a pretty good makeover,” Rhoe said, apologetic. But Aelin knew how huge a gift this was.

“You guys did this?” she asked, and Rhoe nodded.

“One of my crew members was ready to retire it for scraps. It’s a got a fair amount of miles on it already, but we replaced all the important parts. New alternator, air filter, battery, breaks, headlights… pretty much anything that wasn’t up to code from 30 years ago.”

“Dad…” she said, running her hand over the shiny fresh coat of paint. “That must have been really expensive…”

But Rhoe simply shook his head. “It was less than I thought it’d be. The whole crew helped out during their down time, and these two bozos put in a fair amount of labor on some overnight shifts.”

Aelin’s gaze shifted to Rowan, who was pushing the toe of his sneaker into the gravel of their driveway.

“I might have lied a few times about being too tired after lacrosse to come over. Sorry,” he said, tucking his chin into his chest, and Aelin was suddenly buzzing with an warm feeling in her chest. The knot that had been there, tightening for weeks, suddenly loosened. Love. That’s what this feeling was. Just the sweetest, most incredible feeling. To be cared for like this by the people around her. So overwhelmed, she couldn’t help herself; she corralled the three most important men in her life together and widened her arms around them into a giant group hug.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She made sure to say it three times, thanking each one of them.

“Well,” Lorcan said. “Don’t you want to get in?”

Aelin squealed, throwing herself into the driver’s seat and adjusting the chair to her particular height. She breathed in the pine scented air freshener they’d hung on the rearview mirror and smiled. It was perfect.

The car was old, that was not a question. But that only added to its charm. The seats were a comfortable worn-in fabric with a pattern that reminded her of the old Terrasen airport carpet, with its greyscale geometric patterns. The dash was covered in a faux wood pattern that she recognized as being trendy decades ago, but it just made her love it more. This car had history. She’d seen things. She was well-traveled, and Aelin couldn’t wait to give her a brand-new life and explore even more. She knew they’d have many, many adventures in this car. Overhead, there was a sunroof, which she immediately opened to let in the mid-morning light, and she couldn’t help but tilt her chin into the light and let the glow warm her skin.

“You didn’t have to do this,” she finally said, lowering the window to look at her dad, who was more than pleased with his own handiwork.

But Rhoe simply scoffed at that comment. “So, are you driving us all to breakfast or what?”

Aelin grinned as Rowan pulled up a playlist titled, “A-ight-teen” and connected it to the clearly refurbished stereo system.

She laughed as the first song came on loudly – Not A Girl, Not Yet A Woman – causing Rowan to grin widely, a grin that he reserved solely for her. Their matching smiles morphed into guffaws as Rhoe and Lorcan folded their hulking, tree-like bodies into the backseat, squeezing into the cramped sedan with no complaints.

“To Maeve’s?” Aelin asked.

“Yes, Jeeves,” Rhoe said in a ridiculous fancy accent, causing them to break into laughter again.

. . .

“SURPRISE!”

Aelin literally jumped as her friends popped up from behind the counter of Maeve’s. She glared at her dad and Rowan, who had clearly planned this, despite her specifically telling them she hadn’t wanted to celebrate her birthday with a party. I mean, had she known she was going to see more than just Maeve she would have at least put some makeup on!

As if reading her mind, Rowan wrapped his arm around her waist and whispered, “You look beautiful.”

She frowned but accepted the compliment and a long kiss. As they parted, Aelin was swept into a number of excited hugs from all her favorite people. Manon, Elide, Dorian, Chaol, Lysandra, and Aedion circled around her, and she gasped as Aedion stepped in, surprising her with a bear hug and lifting her off the ground. They were causing a bit of a ruckus, especially with Lorcan making his own rounds saying hi to everyone he hadn’t seen in a few months, so Maeve quickly ushered them all out to the back patio where she’d set up a special table, and Aelin couldn’t help but moan with pleasure at the plates stacked high with all her favorite breakfast foods.

“…stuffed French toast, maple cured bacon, cinnamon rolls with extra frosting…” Maeve started listing, pointing along the table at the overly filled table.

“Anything for someone who doesn’t want to go into diabetic shock?” Rhoe laughed.

“Cheesy scrambled eggs, potato hash, bagels, and toppings for breakfast tacos,” she said, pointing out all the savory options on the table, too.

“Yummmm,” Aelin groaned, her eyes practically rolling back into her head with pleasure at her first bite of French toast, despite having a chocolate cake appetizer barely an hour earlier.

“I think she’s fine with the surprise,” Rhoe snorted, elbowing Rowan, who practically jumped out of his chair, tearing his eyes away from Aelin’s mouth.

Manon cackled with glee. “As if we would let the birthday queen not celebrate her birthday. It’ll probably be the last time.”

A round of awwwws went around the table, but instead of the tightening Aelin would usually in her stomach, her panic was abated by Rowan’s fingers lacing with hers beneath the table. He squeezed, as if to silently say, I’m here and I know and I love you. And Aelin let the familiar feeling of his callused finger pads calm her quickly. As he drew circles on the back of her palm, she couldn’t help but think at how different this birthday was from the one only two years ago – the one where she’d planned to tell Rowan her feelings and chickened out. She remembered the way he’d simply sat in the corner, watching her socialize, and she wondered what would have happened if she’d told him then – would they still have ended up together? Or did they need to go through… everything in order to get to where they needed to be today.

Looking at the way he made conversation with everyone from Lorcan to Lysandra, something shifted inside her. This man would one thousand percent have rather been alone with her all day, but he also knew that – despite her protests – she did actually want to celebrate with her friends. Because he knew her. Fully. And that’s when she knew without a doubt that regardless of what happened between them two years ago, ten years ago, or ten years from now, Rowan would always be with her, silently loving her and helping her be her best self.

Aelin gulped, that knot that had abated earlier suddenly tightening in her stomach again. She had been so panicked for so many months about every moment being the last, progressively becoming more stressed as each of her friends discovered what their future held, while she still didn’t. But what was shockingly clear all of a sudden is that she did know what her future held. I mean, sure, she didn’t know where she’d end up or what she’d end up studying or exactly what her life would look like, but she knew that Rowan would be there by her side no matter what.

She almost laughed at herself. Wasn’t that what he’d been saying to her over and over and over? Why did it take until this moment to make her believe that?

“Presents?” Maeve suggested, and though Aelin nodded and smiled through each one, her mind was elsewhere, thinking about what she needed to talk about with Rowan tonight. Her stomach flipped – although she wasn’t entirely sure that couldn’t be blamed on the copious amounts of sugar she was consuming and her never-emptying mug of coffee.

“You okay, Fireheart?” Rhoe asked, nudging her ankle from across the table.

“Yup,” she answered, forcing a smile back onto her face and actually meaning it for the first time in a while. “Too much frosting,” she laughed, patting at her overly full stomach. Rhoe simply returned her laugh and handed the plate of frosted cinnamon rolls to the other end of the table where Dorian accepted it eagerly. And though she continued to open her presents and bask in the love of her friends and family around her, Aelin couldn’t wait to get Rowan alone.

. . .

“Did you have a good birthday?” Rowan asked, fluffing the pillows on the ground as Aelin gathered a warm quilt and pulled it over their makeshift bed. It’d been months since it was warm enough to go up to Maeve’s rooftop, but it felt like the perfect place to end the day.

“It’s not over yet,” Aelin said, snuggling into his side.

Rowan looked at his phone. “You’re right. You have ninety more minutes to celebrate. How do you want to commemorate your eighteenth year of life?”

Aelin raised her brow. “You think I brought you up here just to talk?”

Rowan snorted and pulled her closer. “You’re a menace. Come on, talk to me. I’ve seen your brain working a million miles an hour all day.”

Aelin looked up. “How do you do that?”

Rowan shrugged. “Do what?”

“Read my mind,” she said. “It’s spooky sometimes. I feel like you know things before I say them out loud allllll the time.”

Rowan chuckled. “I wish I could read your mind,” he said, tapping the side of her temple gently. “Now, come on. Tell me what’s going on.”

The words were on the tip of her tongue when her phone vibrated in her pocket. She’d been so distracted all day that for the first time in weeks, Aelin hadn’t spent every minute of every day refreshing her inbox.

She froze, and then her heart took off in a gallop, racing until she felt shaky with adrenaline. Sure enough, as she pulled the phone up, it was lit up with an email alert from Wendlyn University. Re: Aelin Galathynius Admission Status.

“Oh fuck,” Aelin whispered. Rowan’s eyes darted to the screen, and he shot up, sitting up too quickly and knocking Aelin off him.  

“Are you gonna check it?” he asked, but even as Aelin clicked into her inbox, she couldn’t press it. The email that would tell her whether she and Rowan were going to end up at the same school for the next four years. And then, suddenly, she knew what she had to say. And she had to say it before she opened up that email and revealed her fate. Because her fate could only be one thing. One person, really.

She placed her phone down and looked Rowan straight in the eyes and said with as much conviction as she possibly could, “I think we should get married.”

[richincolor]

New Releases for July 16, 2024

Here are the new releases we're watching for this week.

Grief in the Fourth Dimension: A Novel by Jennifer Yu Amulet Books

A moving and unique speculative YA novel about the afterlife and the unexpected connections that can be made in death In life, high school classmates Caroline Davison and Kenny Zhou existed in separate universes—Caroline in one of softball practices and family dinners; Kenny in one of NASA photo books and late-night shifts at his parents’ Chinese restaurant. But after their deaths, they find themselves thrown together as roommates in a mysterious white room—one that seems to exist outside of time and space, shows them their loved ones’ lives on a large hi-def TV, and grants their wishes with a sardonic sense of humor.

As Caroline and Kenny watch life continue to unfold back on Earth, they realize they can influence events through radio signals, psychic mediums, and electromagnetic interference. In their efforts to console their families, they also start to understand the tragic depth of how their lives and deaths were connected and how to help their families—and themselves—heal from the losses.

The Ping-Pong Queen of Chinatown by Andrew Yang Quill Tree Books

Perfect for fans of Ben Philippe and Mary H. K. Choi, this charming, insightful YA novel follows two high school students who form a complicated, ground-shifting bond while filming a mockumentary. On the eve of Felix Ma’s junior year of high school, his parents hires a college admissions coach to help him find a marketable activity. Cynically trawling for extracurricular excellence, Felix decides to start a film club at school.

But then he meets Cassie Chow, a bubbly high school senior who shares Felix’s anxieties about the future and complicated relationship with parental expectations. Felix feels drawn to Cassie for reasons he can’t quite articulate, so as an excuse to see her more, Felix invites Cassie to star in his short film.

While the project starts out as a lighthearted mockumentary, at the urging of Felix’s college admissions coach, who wants to turn the film into college essay material, it soon morphs into a serious drama about the emotional scars that parents leave on their kids. As Felix and Cassie uncover their most painful memories, Cassie starts to balk at opening her wounds for the camera.

With his parents and college admissions coach hot on his heels, Felix discovers painful truths about himself and his past—and must decide whether academic achievement is worth losing his closest friend.

Portrait of a Shadow by Meriam Metoui Henry Holt and Co. (BYR)

A missing sister. A mysterious boy. And a painting that holds the truth beneath its peeling edge…

Inez is missing, but missing things can always be found.

Mae knows this as a fact, even though the police investigation has come to a standstill, even though her parents are moving on. But when she goes to clear out her older sister’s studio, she finds a mess of research and a white canvas that seems even older than the ornate frame it is set in. The closer Mae gets to the canvas, the more difficult it is to pull her eyes away from its mottled surface, its heavy layers of white paint, its peeling top corner she is tempted to pull to see what’s beneath. But she doesn’t. Not yet.

Mae decides to trace her sister’s last steps in the hopes of finding answers, certain that Inez’s disappearance is related to the painting. And she knows she is desperate enough to let the strange boy who claims to have been Inez’s neighbor tag along. Even if his good looks don’t help distract from his avoidance of her questions. So begins a scavenger hunt piecing together what they can find from what Inez left behind. One that leads to centuries-old questions best left unasked and secrets best kept in the dark.

The White Guy Dies First: 13 Scary Stories of Fear and Power Terry J. Benton-Walker (Editor), 

Tor Teen

13 SCARY STORIES. 13 AUTHORS OF COLOR. 13 TIMES WE SURVIVED THE FIRST KILL.

The White Guy Dies First is a powerful and entertaining collection for YA readers featuring thirteen scary stories in which the white guy dies first.Edited by Terry J. Benton-Walker, including stories from bestselling and critically acclaimed Adiba Jaigirdar, Alexis Henderson, Chloe Gong, Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé, H. E. Edgmon, Kalynn Bayron, Karen Strong, Kendare Blake, Lamar Giles, Mark Oshiro, Naseem Jamnia, Tiffany D. Jackson, and Terry J.

[tillystealeaves]

Steddie Breakup Fic- Interlude #1

YIKES I really did not intend to take two whole months to post the next part of this. But the rest is coming soon!!!!

Start with Part 1 Read on AO3

After all that had happened in Hawkins in the past several years, Robin’s parents had assumed that she would be eager to leave and go off to college. As much as they loved their only child, they had secretly also been looking forward to her departure; Robin too often seemed to find herself at the center of the strange goings-on of Hawkins. But in the summer of ’86, Robin had told her parents that she wasn’t going to be leaving, at least not right away.

She had been in touch with the admissions team at the University of Chicago and explained to them that after a traumatic incident that past spring, she wished to defer her enrollment for a year. Robin showed her parents the very kind letter that she had received from the head of the Linguistics department, telling Robin to take the time that she needed and assuring her that her spot at the school would be waiting for her next fall.

This year, in addition to knocking out one or two prerequisite courses at the local community college, Robin was working yet another retail job with Steve Harrington. The Buckleys liked Steve well enough, but couldn’t quite understand the level of attachment that their daughter clearly felt towards him. Still, he was polite, he helped Mrs. Buckley with the dishes when he came for dinner, and he often brought dessert that he had baked himself. Even more importantly, he always conducted himself in a way that made them feel comfortable with him spending time with their daughter. Of course they’d heard the rumors that had started years ago- that Steven Harrington, much like Richard Harrington before him, was driving a different girl around in his big fancy car each week. But the Buckleys had only ever seen Steve around town with the group of teens that he inexplicably claimed to babysit. The only young lady Steve seemed to spend time with- other than occasionally Nancy Wheeler, who was the older sister of the kids he watched- was Robin. And though they’d caught Steve curled around Robin on the couch (and they suspected he’d crawled into her bedroom window on several occasions) the relationship truly did seem to be as “Platonic with a Capital P” as their daughter insisted.

Unfortunately, this bewildered acceptance did not in any way extend to Eddie Munson. Of course, the Buckleys didn’t believe that fantasy games or loud and angry-sounding music meant that someone was a satanic fiend. They didn’t even believe that the Munson boy had killed any of those teens; they’d seen him giving rides to Steve’s kids in his van and Steve would certainly never allow someone dangerous to do that. From afar, he seemed to be a genuinely kindhearted person.

But it was indeed common knowledge that Eddie Munson sold drugs, and they didn’t want Robin anywhere near that kind of a situation. In addition, most of the residents of Hawkins were considerably less convinced by the official story of what was now being called the Creel Killings. Munson, whether by his own fault or not, was a target for the uglier side of small town life. The Buckleys were concerned that association with Eddie might make Robin a target of their anger- or that small town rumors might spill outside the city limits and harm Robin’s reputation going forward.

With all of this in mind, Eddie suppressed the urge to drive over to the Buckley’s house at 7am and knock on the door demanding to see Robin.

He hadn’t made any attempt to talk to her after leaving Steve’s house the previous night. All he could bring himself to do was drive around aimlessly until he was sure Wayne had left for work, go home, and cry while replaying the conversation with Steve a thousand times in his head.

It didn’t make sense. Eddie understood the words that Steve had spoken, but he couldn’t make them fit with everything he knew about Steve- and everything they’d shared since their first kiss late in May, on the day that Eddie had finally earned his high school diploma.

Steve loved. It was the most true thing about him. He loved Robin and he loved the kids and he loved his perpetually absent parents even though they didn’t deserve it.

He loved Eddie. That had been a surprise at first, finding Steve sitting at his bedside in the hospital. Steve, offering to help Eddie as his body slowly healed from dozens of bat bites. Steve, bringing food to Eddie and Wayne’s new trailer. At first Eddie thought it was just gratitude, a “thanks-for-not-letting-Dustin-die”. Then he realized that Steve- that the whole party- had simply absorbed him into their bizarre little monster fighting family. And then it became clear that it was more than just trauma bonding; that Steve truly liked Eddie, wanted to help him just because it made Steve happy to see him happy, enjoyed spending time with him.

And then and then and then it was something else entirely. Still love, but now it was warmer. Kisses and hands held during movie nights. Their same inside jokes now paired with soft touches. Love. Steve’s love.

Steve’s love was a brilliant thing and Eddie had felt so honored to receive it. He hadn’t had much (any) experience with relationships- being gay in a small town will do that- but he was determined to love Steve well in return, and to make sure Steve knew his love was appreciated.

Eddie had heard the story of Steve and Nancy- from both Steve and from Nancy. They’d come to an understanding now; a friendship built on mutual respect. But to hear Steve tell it, he’d failed Nancy when she needed him, he’d been too clingy while at the same time not being “real enough” (whatever that meant), he’d let her down by being too much and not enough all at once. The version that Nancy told seemed more likely to Eddie- that they’d been kids faced with unspeakable trauma that they’d processed in very different ways. That they wanted different things from life and it never would have lasted, even if Barb hadn’t died in Steve’s pool. But Nancy was sure to include in her retelling that Steve’s love was brilliant- even if it hadn’t ultimately been what she wanted, she knew it was so powerful and pure and she hoped more than anything that Steve found someone who would appreciate it and return it as he deserved to have his love returned.

When Nancy told Eddie that last part, she’d given him a very pointed look and then kicked him in the shin while smirking. Eddie had kicked her right back, trying to hide his blush. It was two weeks before graduation and Eddie had definitely noticed the subtle shift in Steve’s love. Of course, nothing had had to shift for Eddie at all. The Corroded Coffin boys were all too aware of Eddie’s years-long unfortunate crush on Steve Harrington. The first time he saw Harrington pick up the newest Hellfire members from school, he’d been confused and a little wary. But then the kids had rushed to him and Henderson had done some (very nerdy and not at all king-like) handshake with him and suddenly his crush didn’t seem so unfortunate. Or at least, it was unfortunate for a different reason.

He'd been delighted when Steve had finally taken the leap and kissed him after the joint graduation party that had been held at the Harringtons’ perpetually empty house. After that, things between them seemed to fall together naturally. Eddie loved being loved by Steve, and he loved being able to give Steve love in return. It was so good- good in a way that Eddie of a year ago could never have imagined he would ever be able to find in Hawkins.

Except… Eddie had been wrong?

For the thousandth time, he replayed Steve’s words in his head. Sometimes, one person in a relationship just expects more out of it than what it is. Eddie had heard the rumors about King Steve Harrington, always able to score any girl he wanted, never likely to be seen with the same one for more than a week or two. Was that it? Was that all Eddie was? The flavor of the week? But that didn’t make sense. It had been more than a week- it had been nearly five months. And Steve wasn’t like that, not really.

What, then? If it wasn’t Steve, then it must be Eddie. Of course, Eddie had long held the belief that he wasn’t the type of guy someone would stick around for. Eddie was good for a quick hookup in that gay bar in Indy he visited sometimes. Or maybe if he ever made it big with Corroded Coffin, a fan might want to accompany him back to his hotel room. Eddie wasn’t a person that someone wanted to keep forever.

But Steve had. In every kiss, every shared secret, every daydream about moving to Chicago and sharing an apartment, making sure there was space for Robin to stay over a few nights a week. Steve had made Eddie feel, since their first kiss, that he planned to hold on to Eddie forever. Or maybe that was all just in Eddie’s mind? Maybe he’d wanted it so much that he had convinced himself of something that wasn’t there? But no. Wayne saw it, and had commented many times about how happy they both seemed. Nancy saw it. Robin saw it.

And yet she hadn’t.

Steve said that he’d talked to Robin about this, that Robin had told him to confront Eddie about their apparent irreconcilable differences. Had she known this whole time that Steve wasn’t nearly as interested in Eddie as Eddie was in him? Why hadn’t she said something to Eddie, told him to stop making a fool of himself around her best friend?

Eddie couldn’t understand. After thinking about it all night long, he’d only managed to find more questions to ask, not come up with anything that made the past five months match up with Steve’s words from the night before.

And so here he stood outside of the Buckley home, after Mr. and Mrs. Buckley had left for work but well before Robin’s 2pm shift. Eddie was glad that he knew this detail of her schedule, even though the reason for him knowing was yet another twist of the knife in his heart. Robin had offered last week to work this night’s closing shift at the arcade so that Eddie could take Steve to watch the Orionid meteor shower. Steve loved driving away from the lights of Hawkins and watching the stars. Eddie had been planning to pack a picnic in the back of his van and- no, he couldn’t start thinking about that now.

Eddie took a deep breath and knocked on Robin’s door. She answered quickly, as though she were expecting him, but the look on her face said that she very much was not.

“You’re not Steve,” she stated unnecessarily. She was tense, clearly annoyed at his presence. Did she hate him? Had Eddie missed the signs? Had Steve’s soulmate told him that Eddie wasn’t good enough for him?

“Um… nope, not Steve,” Eddie began awkwardly. Now that he was here, he didn’t know how to start this conversation.

Robin solved this problem for him by looking anxiously over his shoulder and saying, “Okay, well you need to go. You can’t be here right now. Steve is coming over to talk and eat a whole bunch of junk food and I’m probably going to end up having to call out of work and he can’t find me standing here fraternizing with the enemy.”

What? Robin sounded like she was planning the classic Best Friend Interventions for when a friend gets their heart broken. But Steve was the one who dumped Eddie. Eddie’s was the heart that got broken. Why did Steve have to sadly eat junk food over the fact that he didn’t really like Eddie all that much? And… enemy?

That last thought managed to force its way from the swirling mess that was Eddie’s mind and out his mouth. “I’m the enemy now? Bob, what did I do?”

“Don’t ‘Bob’ me!” Robin snapped. Okay, then. They’d gone to the point of not-friendship where nicknames were no longer allowed. Eddie fought back the sudden urge to start crying all over again.

In front of him, Robin took a deep, steadying breath. “Sorry. That was harsh; you’re not the enemy. I’m just… disappointed. Sad. I don’t know. But you can’t be here when Steve gets here, okay?”

“Okay,” Eddie agreed. No matter how hurt and confused he was, he didn’t want to cause Steve any pain. Robin seemed sure that finding Eddie on her doorstep would hurt Steve, so Eddie would get himself gone. But before he left, he had to at least try to understand. “Can I just- Why did you tell Steve to dump me?”

Now, Robin looked actually angry. Eddie wondered if he should run while he had the chance. (Underneath his confusion, he found himself thinking how glad he was that Steve had a friend like Robin in his corner.) “Do not turn this around on Steve- or on me. I spent weeks building him up, giving him the courage to talk to you about things in your relationship that were worrying him. I vouched for you- I told him you would listen. Instead, I get a phone call last night from a crying Steve who says- and I quote- ‘It’s over. We’re not together anymore. I can’t talk about it tonight but I’m going to come see you before work,’ and then hangs up as soon as I agree.”

So Robin hadn’t thought that Eddie was no good. Well, that was some comfort at least. But it still left Eddie with the horrible truth that when given the opportunity to talk through issues in their relationship, Steve had decided that Eddie just wasn’t worth it. “We didn’t talk about anything,” Eddie whispered, trying desperately not to let Robin hear how his voice was breaking. “He just… told me that we were looking for different things in our relationship and that he wanted to end it now before we ended up hating each other.”

“DINGUS!”

Robin’s shout startled Eddie. He quickly looked behind him, checking to see if Steve had arrived. He hadn’t. Eddie turned back to Robin, only to find her tugging at her hair in frustration. “Oh my god, Dingus why? You suck. Every tally on the You Suck board forever, you suck!” She suddenly focused her attention back to Eddie, who was now feeling more confused than ever. “Do you love him?”

“Wh- what?” Eddie stammered. How did Steve keep up with Robin’s brain?

“Do. You. Love. Steve?” Robin repeated, clearly enunciating each word. “There’s no wrong answer but you have to tell me the truth.”

“Of course I do.” And here were the tears again. Robin definitely wasn’t angry at him anymore, but Eddie was still so confused and so hurt. One thing he knew for sure, though, was this. “Bob, I love him so much. I tried last night- I tried to get him to tell me what I was doing wrong, how I could be a better boyfriend to him. He didn’t want to hear it. Just said he didn’t love me enough.”

“He didn’t say that,” interjected Robin. Her voice was calm, assured. “I absolutely know that Steve did not say that he doesn’t love you enough to stay with you.”

“Well no,” Eddie conceded. “But he said when one person wants more out of a relationship, someone ends up with their heart broken and someone ends up resenting the other person’s love.”

Robin stared at him expectantly. Clearly she wanted him to draw some conclusion from this but it was the same as what he’d said in the first place. Steve didn’t love him enough to stay. The silence stretched on until Eddie felt compelled to fill it. “He dumped me while we’re still happy so that he doesn’t end up resenting or hating me.”

“He absolutely did not.” Again, Robin sounded so sure. What had she pieced together that he hadn’t?

None of what was happening made sense. But Robin had somehow made sense of it. Eddie took a deep breath and tried once again to understand why his relationship had dissolved overnight, now with the added clues of this conversation with Robin.

Steve’s love was brilliant and intense, steady even when its recipient didn’t appreciate it. Steve had been trying to work up the courage to talk to Eddie about their relationship. Steve had ended things because he was worried that they weren’t on the same page.

No, he couldn’t.

“Does…” Eddie’s voice sounded so small, even to his own ears. He cleared his throat but it didn’t help. Panic and shame were choking him and he was sure that he’d never be able to draw breath again. He didn’t deserve to. “Robin, does he think I don’t love him? Oh my god, does he think I’m going to get bored and resent him?”

“As I said,” Robin grumbled, “Dingus.”

“How did I mess this up? Shit, I thought I was doing it right!” Eddie clutched at his hair, pulling at it as though the pressure would stop the tears that were now pouring down his face. “I swear, Robin, I love him and I really thought I was showing him that.”

Robin grabbed Eddie gently by the wrists, not pulling his hands away from his hair, but simply pausing his tugging. “I know. Eddie, you were showing it. Everyone that’s ever seen you two for five minutes saw it; you guys are frankly gross.” Eddie felt himself smiling weakly at that. They were and he knew it. He loved it. He felt his smile vanish. He thought Steve had known it too. “This is a Steve problem. And it’s why I told him to talk to you. Talk. With whole sentences. Weeks ago.”

Eddie nodded. But even though it was Steve’s own insecurities that had caused this problem, Steve and Eddie were a team- at least Eddie hoped they still were. “How can I help fix it?”

“You have a date tonight, right? The meteor shower?”

“I mean… no, because Steve pretty firmly dumped me last night,” Eddie replied, trying not to snap at Robin. She spoke Steve better than anyone; she could help.

“Right, okay. Go get ready. Just pretend you’re not dumped and plan the date that I know you already have planned. Expect Steve like an hour earlier than he was supposed to come. Now seriously, shoo, because he really is going to be here any second!”

And with that, Eddie was dismissed.

=====================

Hope you enjoyed this! There's one more interlude and then the conclusion.

Also this story takes place on October 21st, 1986, and this is the meteor shower they're going to watch.

Read the next part: Interlude 2

[lyrakanefanaticwriting]

The grandest game: Chapter 1

———————————————————

GRAYSON:

I took a sip out of my cup of black coffee, glancing at my watch to see what time it was and whether or not Avery would be getting up soon, when I heard footsteps behind me.

“Good morning, Grayson. Did you bring the files from the interviews?” Avery asked, appearing beside me and taking the seat next to me at the table.

“Yes,” I said, pulling them out and placing them in front of her. “Have you found anybody yet?” She makes a face but pulls out her own folder and hands me some pieces of paper.

“Only two people, a girl named Hana Beaumont and a guy named Matthew Monroe. If you take a look at their grades, education, and patents, they’re really talented.” She says. I flipped through them, reading its contents, and was really surprised. Hana had been going to public schools for a good part of her life, until she had caught the attention of a fancy private school that created a program for low income students with spectacular grades. She started going there until students started finding out that she wasn’t actually paying to go to school, and only payed for school supplies. That’s when the bullying started. It was only a couple girls, at first, but then it became groups of people. A girl at her school went to Hana’s dad’s tiny shop and posted the video online, and that’s when it got really bad. It got to the point where the school had to kick her out, because she was causing “too much attention”. She continued going to public schools afterwards, but has yet to apply to college. Probably waiting to see if she got into The Game or not before applying. She’s 20 years old.

“And she wrote this in her admission?” I asked, feeling bad for poor Hana, who couldn’t control how much money she had. Avery nodded.

“I added a section where they could write why they wanted to be in The Game, but it was optional.” She said frowning, and I could tell she too felt upset about the way Hana was treated. Flipping to the next page, I read about Matthew Monroe. Matthew was 20 as well, but he hadn’t gone to a private school. He was in public school all his life, but was known for setting the curve and acing all his classes. He had wanted to apply to a fancy college so he could study criminology, but he didn’t have the money and if he borrowed money he would have to be in major debt all his life. And he applied to The Game, I thought, So he wouldn’t have to worry about debt. Obviously, if he were to win then he would probably be set for life, but something told me Matthew wanted to be a criminologist because he genuinely liked the field.

“So, do you think they’re good?” Avery asks, cutting into my thoughts.

“I think they’re amazing. Both smart, hardworking individuals who I’d like to see in The Game.” I said with a smile. Avery smiled back and opened her mouth to speak, when my phone suddenly rang. I excused myself before getting up and going into the hall. Once I was there, I answered the phone.

“Hello?” I say, remembering what Xander had said to me a few weeks ago. I heard silence on the other end, but only for a few seconds.

“I thought you said you would be working on my riddle.” The girl, the one that had called him before, was on the other end of the line. She had been demanding so much of me, but I had yet to even know her name.

“I was. And I have a few theories that I took from the riddle,” I said, matching her sly tone. “My first one is that a handshake begins a bet, and the not that could mean the opposite of a handshake. The opposite of a handshake is disagreement, misunderstanding, and refusal. So maybe your father and Tobias had gotten into a disagreement, or my grandfather had gone ahead and done something that your father may not have approved of or was aware of yet, which would make the misunderstanding factor make sense. But there’s also another theory that I had come up with. What if you didn’t hear “a bet”, what if you had heard ‘What begins abet’ instead?” I paused to hear her reaction, and on the other end of the phone I heard a sharp inhale.

“It’s possible.” She said. I waited for her to go on, but it seemed she wanted me to explain more. So I did.

“Abet means to aid a crime, so maybe your father had aided one of Tobias’ crimes but was the only one who got any of the blame. Or maybe he did the crime for Tobias and was so guilty that he-“ I cut myself off. I didn’t know her reaction to any of this, and I had no clue if she was still affected by her father’s death. She breathed in slowly, before speaking.

“Are you suggesting that my father and your grandfather had been caught up in some nasty business, and the guilt of it all led my father into taking his own life?” She asked me. I didn’t have to answer, and she seemed to already know the answer herself. There was silence, and I thought for a second that she might hang up, when suddenly she begins speaking again.

“Thank you for your help, Grayson Hawthorne, but I’m sure you have other things to tend to now. You are one of the game makers in “The Game”, are you not?” She asked me.

“I am. And you’re right, I do have things to tend to.” He said, thinking back to the folder that was sitting on the dining room table at this very moment. Suddenly, I realized that this was the end of our conversation. Probably for good. In a split second, I held my phone tighter and spoke before she could hang up.

“Wait,” I said, my voice cutting into the silence. “Whats your name?” I heard a sudden laugh on the other end of the line, before she replies.

“Im afraid I can’t disclose that information, Mr. Hawthorne.” She said, her voice sweet. And then she finally hung up. I still have my phone held up to my ear when Xander bursts into the room.

“Grayson, you missed, like, the entire conversation me and Jameson had with Avery! You need to stay off your phone more, you iPad kid.” He said, walking over to me and grabbing my phone out of my hands. I quickly grabbed it back and shoved it in my pocket, the phone call I just had still lingering in my mind.

“And what was the conversation about?” I asked, raising a brow at him. He grins.

“A masquerade ball! We’ve decided that we’re going to invite a hundred or so people who enlisted in The Game to mingle, and then we can narrow down who we want to be in The Game better. Obviously there will be a limit, and those who don’t want to be in The Game will still have an opportunity to come, but it’ll be a fun opportunity to get to know potential contestants better!” He said, beaming. I mulled it over, and came to the conclusion that it wasn’t such a bad idea.

“That actually might be nice. When will it take place?” I ask Xander.

“A week from now. You better wear a fancy suit! Although I wouldn’t have to tell you twice. Oh, and, don’t forget, but it’s a masquerade ball, so don’t forget to bring a face or eye mask!” He said, shouting while walking away. A masquerade ball? Full of potential contestants? How were we supposed to narrow down just 5 more people? Questions swarmed around inside my head, but I ignored them and walked towards the kitchen, where Avery and Jameson still were. I had contestant applications to go over, after all, and there were still 5 more to go.

——————————————————————————

???

My TV was on, the man on it mindlessly droning about the news and being perfect background noise, when suddenly a reporter comes on, talking about Avery Kylie Grambs. There wasn’t a day that went by where I didn’t hear of her. Suddenly, I was paying much more attention to what was on TV. The reporter claimed that Avery was hosting a masquerade ball, and if you wanted to be a contestant in The Game, then you had an opportunity to come. About a hundred or so people who sent admissions for The Game would be invited to Hawthorne island to mingle with other “potential contestants”, and have a better chance at getting in by speaking with the people who actually ran The Game. While the reporter was still speaking, I heard my phone ring. Fully knowing who it was, I picked it up.

“Hello?” I say.

“I assume you saw the news as well.” She said, her voice low.

“You assumed right. A masquerade ball, huh?” I say, knowing exactly what she’s planning.

“It’d be the perfect time. Not only would they not be able to see your face, but I’m sure your voice would be different too, due to the mask.” She said. It was true. A masquerade ball was the best time to do it. But still, doubt and suspicion crept into my mind.

“Im not doing this if I end up not getting my end of the deal.” I say, my voice low and dangerous. She makes a hmm noise, before speaking.

“Trust me, you will get all the information you’ll need about your father, and some money too. All you need to do is get in The Game, and leave the rest to me. Can you do that?” She asks. I knew that doing this was risky, that she could screw up at anytime and easily drag me into her mess. But I also knew what was in it for me, my end of the bargain. And in the end, it would be worth it.

“I can, Eve.”

——————————————————————————

YES THIS IS THE LONGEST CHAPTER IN ALL OF CHAPTERS IK BUT ITS JUST BC ITS THE FIRST ONE, I PROMISE THE OTHER CHAPTERS WONT BE THIS LONG 😭😭

[workingclasshistory]

On this day, 22 April 1969 over 200 Black and Puerto Rican students occupied 17 buildings in New York's City College south campus demanding Black and Latine studies courses an end to discrimination against students of colour at the City University of New York. Although the local community was 40% Black and Puerto Rican, they made up only 9% of students at the University, so protesters demanded open admissions. Some white students took over the north campus in solidarity. Police violently attacked the students with batons, but the demonstrators defended themselves. The Finlay Student Centre was set on fire, and 10 other smaller fires were set elsewhere on campus. Some white male students also physically attacked Black women students. But on May 9, after two weeks of occupation, authorities eventually agreed to the students' demands and opened up admissions, and introduced financial help for students in need. As of 2019, 53% of students at the college were Black or Latine. More information, sources and map: https://stories.workingclasshistory.com/article/11102/City-College-occupied https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=613175187522367&set=a.602588028581083&type=3

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved on our archive

By - Nicola Davis

Immunologists push for increase in testing and more widespread vaccine booster rollout as new variant, XEC, emerges

Covid is on the rise in England, and experts have warned that more must be done to prevent and control infections after a “capitulation to the virus”.

Prof Danny Altmann, an immunologist at Imperial College London, said those working in the field were perplexed by the current attitude to the battle against Covid, as the latest figures showed an increase in hospital admissions.

The latest data for England from the UK Health Security Agency (UKHSA) showed that hospital admissions increased to 3.71 per 100,000 population for the week between 16 and 22 September 2024, compared with 2.56 per 100,000 the previous week.

The percentage of people with symptoms who have tested positive for Covid, based on tests at sentinel “spotter” laboratories, has also risen in the last week to 11.8% compared with 9.1% in the previous week.

Altmann described the prevailing stance on the virus as a “capitulation”. “To those who work in this field, the current attitude of acceptance to losing this war of attrition against Covid is puzzling and a little desperate,” he said.

“The data, both in the UK and US, show that the current Omicron subvariants are hugely successful at punching through any dwindling population immunity, so that we tolerate huge prevalence of around 12%. Our capitulation to the virus is a combination of a population where most are now many months or years from their last vaccine dose, and that vaccine dose was in any case poorly cross-protective for the very distinct current variants.

“Clearly, there is behavioural polarisation between those who are worried by this and look for mitigation, and those who think we must learn live with it and paid too high a price for our earlier measures,” he said.

Dr Simon Williams, from Swansea University, added that surveys suggest there is also a large group of people who are not thinking much about Covid at all. “Part of this is psychological – for two to three years it was something people had to think about all the time and is something that for many had many negative memories and feelings attached to it,” he said.

While Altmann said debate around measures needed to be properly informed and data-driven and to avoid extreme stances, it was important not to trivialise the impact of the virus.

“Those at the weaker end of the immune response spectrum may often experience four or more breakthrough infections per year. These may range from mild to those needing several days of work, with all the associated economic costs, plus any additional NHS burden,” he said.

Altmann also stressed the impact of long Covid, noting that it is thought to affect around 400 million people globally – with 3% lost workforce and a global cost estimate of $1tn annually – and can arise even in vaccinated people following reinfection.

The latest Covid data comes as a new variant is expected to become prevalent in the coming months. Known as XEC, it was first identified in Germany over the summer, and cases have already been identified in the UK. It is thought to have emerged from two other Covid variants, themselves descended from the BA.2.86 variant.

However, experts have said that, at present, XEC is not thought to cause different symptoms from previous variants and does not appear to be fuelling a surge in cases. It is also expected that Covid vaccinations and past infections will continue to offer protection against severe disease.

While bookings for the NHS autumn Covid booster jabs opened this week, Altmann said they should be offered more widely, together with increased use of lateral flow testing to avoid the spread of Covid.

Williams added that it was strange that more had not been done to clean indoor air and improve ventilation in public spaces including schools.

But while he backed offering boosters more widely, he also raised concerns: “I worry that again this autumn we will see a relatively low uptake of the booster among priority groups, including younger adults with a compromised immune system.”

[thelastharbinger]

Tidbits of ATSV That I Enjoyed (Or Alternatively: Just Miles Being The Most Endearing Spidey Ever)

Miles patting The Spot's head after successfully webbing him (I don't see this as condescending, but rather him still engaging with the humanity of a villain like Spot) and ~very assertively~ telling/asking him not to escape.

"I'm like Robin Hood-if he gave to himself."

Miles' spidey senses going off when he arrives late to his dad's party because there's nothing more frightening than Brown parents when they're mad at you. Beware the chancla or correa!

O.k. So we all know there are different versions of the movie out there. You may already know that one of the slight differences is when Miles goes to save Inspector Singh. There's a version where you can hear Gwen's voice in the distant background yelling no! when she thinks Miles gets crushed under the rubble, and there's another where she's silent as she webs to him. Now, I have found ANOTHER version (online) where her shouting is even more at the forefront. She's practically screaming and sounds more desperate, (prolly because it's close to the same way her Peter Parker died so she's reliving trauma) and the fear in her voice is palpable. That one haunts me.

Jefferson trying to equate studying for his police exams to childbirth, which Rio quickly nips in the bud.

Ganke having a soccer poster of Son Heung Min, a famous Korean footballer who currently plays for the Premier League Tottenham Hotspur and is captain of the South Korean national team.

Miles having a Sashimi (his universe's version of Supreme, but I just like the idea that Miles loves eating sashimi. Like I know that kid has good taste in food) poster in his bedroom.

The fact that Miles kept in touch with Aunt May for long enough after the events of ITSV that he helps her move.

The Spot saying he was one of the more handsome scientists at Alchemax according to his colleagues.

Miles and Gwen having the same collectible toys, the only difference being that he keeps his in the box and she doesn't.

"Hey, don't try to wow me with big words, man," *in deep manly voice* "I do crosswords every day"- Miles after Spot points out Alchemax as "the crucible of our connection!"

Miles going, "This job is so dumb sometimes" after he tries to web Spot at the deli, but it goes through a hole and lands on his face.

"Nahhh, he seems more Dominican to me." Kinda want Miles to meet a native Dominican Spidey because that dynamic would highkey fuck hard *pun not intended*. They would repair relations between our two islands-PR&DR.

"Almost there Mami *smiley face* *cowboy* prayer hands*"

The college admissions coach at Visions Academy straight up saying, "That's your story! Now, just stick to the script..." Ma'am what???

"Calmate Mami, eso no es my fault."

"I've hit a lot of different villains with a lot of different food...I'm just trying to lighten the mood."

Miles in his angsty teen era and smart-mouthing everyone around him. Love that for him.

"He almost killed his mom as a baby, I mean, look at those shoulders." No but for real tho. Those shoulders are as wide as a truck. Kim Seokjin who??? (if you understood that reference, ily).

Miles writing a love letter to his dad in 2 cakes.

Gwen at the water tower chowing and saying how feelings make her hungry after her and Miles talked about how they can't be together cause it would end in tragedy. Like Gwen, come again?!

Also, Miles' and Gwen's talk at the Williamsburg Bank Building being lowkey the catalyst for the 2nd/3rd acts of the film. Without them both kind of silently admitting their feelings for each other, Miles probably wouldn't have chased after her the way he did. Pretty sure you know the rest.

"I bet she doesn't even speak Spanish," and Jeff going "Que barbaridad" in his very broken Spanish. Queue Rio's bombastic side eye.

Both Gwen and Miles referring to Spot as a Villain Of The Week, even though neither of them have spoken about Spot to each other.

"I was bitten by a-wouldnt you like to know? Know what I mean?" SIR. Chill. This movie is for children.

The Spot inverting himself, going from a white mass with black spots to a gaping black hole with smaller white spirals. It's giving Junji Ito.

The irony of Pavitr exclaiming, "Well that was another easy adventure for Spider-Man!" right before an incoming canon event. HIS. He was about to experience his first big loss, and his happy-go-lucky nature would've been challenged.

Miguel saying conyo! when all the Spideys start pointing at each other.

"!Cállate!" "Nosy!" Sidebar: we don't talk about Gwen's banter with bad guys enough. She's so funny!

A lot of the Peters saying hi to Gwen as she passes HQ because she is canonically the one lost love--the love interest they all would've ended up with had she not died, so they all have an affection for her.

Web-Slinger going "Giddy up!" Cause he's swinging up.

Miles offering his fresh new takes on how to deal with the Spot upon meeting Miguel, saying "He just wants to be taken seriously. Like we all do." MILES YOU BEAUTIFUL, COMPASSIONATE GOLDEN SUNFLOWER BOY I LOVE YOUUUUU.

Hobie referring to Peter B. as Humbling Reality Spider-Man, which considering how steeped in tragedy the Spidey lore is, is really saying something.

Miguel's nonono no puedo más no puedo más. His misery is very funny and delightful to me. Little bitch ass.

"You know you're the only Spider-Man who isn't funny." Yes! More Miguel slander in the next one, please! Little bitch ass.

"Snitch!"

Miles shouting out Peter's name for help whilst Miguel pins and lays into him the fact that he's an anomaly. This after he momentarily glitches back to his ITSV store-bought suit. Mimicking the way-in also the first movie-Miles shouting out Peter's name for his own rescue as Doc Ock attacks him at the research facility. Because even though he feels hurt by Peter at this point, that's still his dad mentor and he still instinctively looks to him for protection. Rip my heart out why don't you!

Gwen sneaking back into her and her dad's place just to get that printed polaroid of her and Miles, a pic she already has on her phone.

Earth-42 Miles wearing Nike while our Miles wears Jordans.

[five-thousand-loaves-of-bread]

n in home country. you expected to master foundations before developing personal styles.

as in you need learn tonal drawing of complex still life (fruits & pots & glass & fabric background etc), of plaster statues, of croquis* drawing, of like. tonal still life but with gouache (colored still life?), etc

(*croquis meaning rapid sketch of live models with clothing you suppose capture entire body include face clothing wrinkles pose etc. to illustrate how obsolete, this word in home country language something knew since very young but this word in english literally just now found way word it to search up in google just now learn word. have never heard of it before in english)

art school in undergrad level in home country. admission test is like. similar to US SAT but even more rigorous because like once a year only you go in for idk entire day maybe entire two days (never looked into it because not relevant to me) with millions of people n you get tested on these stuff. then people rank your drawings n give score n that determine what art school you can get into. i think

n heard there absolutely one “standard” style they prefer

which lead to like. expensive bootcamps like stuff where prospective art students live eat sleep draw in studio for weeks months confiscate electronics etc. like that is norm

if you know what home country is then this make sense because this exactly like test for college

vs in US you submit portfolio to each school showcase your art your style showcase individual

know people who got accepted into art school in US without have done any of these type drawings

dont think “have one standard style n have hell boot camp & grade art as if can be objective etc” is answer at all exactly

but having learned even like. a little of these foundations (pencil tonal still life mainly but also colored still life but more bad at that n forgot it so that one lesser). made me better artist.

n if have learned like, tonal still life of those facial sculptures busts (think ancient roman ancient greece classical style). n croquis. would help so much with draw people

because foundations exactly that. foundation that serve as basic where develop own art own style. light n dark. human body n anatomy. drape. wrinkles. color. environmental colors. etc

still use many techniques learned from tonal still life. for example draw curves with straight lines when sketch. which gives more precisions. or mentally see like complex curvy stuff like apple or face into geometric flat surfaces all pieced together etc. more bad at that one but it really help understand where put lines what direction best for shading for shading line placement etc