#and I had SO much shit to do this week. I don't know what I'm gonna do

[pomegranatesarchive]

not so secret santa

max verstappen x teammate!reader

part of redbull!reader

[3.4k] secret santa has never been your favorite holiday tradition; in fact, you’ve always found it more stressful than fun. but this year, it’s somehow even worse—because out of all the people you could have drawn, you ended up with your teammate, max.

.

"Can't I skip it this year?" you grumbled, watching as the F1 social media admin walked up to you, a phone in one hand, and a Christmas hat in the other.

The woman frowned behind the camera, shaking the hat slightly, "You love Christmas." she pointed out.

You nodded, pocketing your phone in your back pocket, you were on your way to the garage before you were stopped by the last person you wanted to see.

You had no problem with the admin, on the contrary, you found her delightful, but she was making the round of secret santa, and that's why you were hoping to avoid her.

"Christmas and Secret Santa are not the same." you quipped, reaching your hand into the hat and swirling around the tiny slips of paper. You took a deep breath, grasping one before pulling it out, the camera following your every movement.

You leaned by, opening the slip away from prying eyes, "Shit." you cursed, quickly trying to put the paper back into the hat.

The admin laughed, leaning back, "No switching!"

You groaned, "C'mon please!"

She laughed, shaking your head, "Nope! Show the camera."

You grumbled, slowly turning the paper, Max Verstappen.

The woman laughed, delighted by the odds, "Okay. You remember the rules?"

"Don't tell anyone." you grumbled, pocketing the slip of paper, "I never know what to get!" you whined, as much as you loved Christmas the gift-giving part was something you despised, you always second-guessed yourself, and could never pick out what you deemed a 'good gift.’

"You have until two weeks from now." she beamed, before walking away, no doubt on her way to find her next victim.

.

Later that day you had a list of those who could help you on the hunt for the perfect gift. The first person on your list for help was, unfortunately, out of all people, Jos Verstappen.

Truly he was the last person you would ever want to talk to, but you thought that if anyone could be able to help you with picking out a gift, it would be Max's dad.

You would've gone to his mother, or even sister first. But they rarely visited the garage, much less when Jos was around, which you entirely understood.

"Get him something for racing," he spoke simply, you stood near him awkwardly, this was only your second one-on-one conversation in all the years you've been racing with his child, and moments like these reminded you why you avoided him, "Gloves."

You blinked, "You don't think I should get him something more personal? I mean I've known him for a while now."

"You've known him for a while and still don't know what to get him?" he sent you a look, and you resisted the urge to snap back, taking a deep breath.

"I'm bad a gifts."

"Then don't get him anything," the man shrugged like it was the most reasonable thing, "He hasn't been doing good enough to deserve a good Christmas." he scoffed.

"He's leading the championship." you laughed in amazement, truly not understanding how a father could say such things about his own child.

Jos' eyes snapped over to you, "Norris is catching up, he's not doing good enough."

"Not good enough?" you gaped, taking a step back, deciding to let it go and not start an argument in the middle of the garage, "Nevermind. Nevermind. Thank you for your…help.” you didn’t bother giving him a fake smile, turning on your heel quickly and walking out of the garage.

“Asshole,” you whispered to yourself, walking quickly with eyes on the ground.

“My dad?” you stopped abruptly, looking up to see Max in all his glory standing in front of you.

“Hm?” you blinked, staring up at him.

He pursed his lips, hands on his hips, “You were talking to my dad.”

You nodded slowly, debating whether to lie or not, “…I was.”

He hummed, left eye slightly twitching, “Okay. Why?”

Your mind went blank, thinking of any excuse you could use, “Um…”

Max eyes you, nodding along with you, “Um…”

"I just wanted to catch up."

In hindsight, you definitely should've come up with something more believable.

Max shot you a very telling look, letting you know that he didnt believe an ounce of what you were saying, "Catching up? With Jos?"

"Yes?" you squinted up at him, tone not as believable as you wanted it to be.

"You don't catch up with Jos. You don't like Jos."

You tried to look offended, "I can catch up with Jos."

Max let out a short laugh, eyes glancing behind you, no doubt to his father, "No. You don't like him." he repeated, "Most people don't like him."

You stared up at him with a blank look before letting out a deep breath, "You're right, I don't like him."

Max nodded once more, an amused look on his face, "So why were you talking to him?"

You balled your hands into a fist wanting nothing more but to tell him that you were on a search for the perfect gift, but you resisted, "I wanted to catch up with Jos but then he opened his mouth and reminded me why I stay away."

Max said nothing, simply staring down at you, a certain look in his eyes, you sighed, "I promise."

Finally, Max let up, giving you a smile, and patting your shoulder before walking towards his father.

With a grimace you quickly spun on your heel, catching Jos's eyes, you pressed a finger to your lips, hoping you would get the hint—it appeared like he didnt by the way he looked at you in a mixture of disgust and confusion.

You watched them anxiously for a moment, before scurrying away, choosing to not see the moment Max realized you had lied to him.

Back with the Verstappens, Max was eyeing his father oddly. He knew you had just lied to him, your anxious tone and the way you balled your hands into fists told him you were lying, he just didnt know about what.

"You two were catching up?" Max voiced his disbelief, the last thing he expected was for his father to continue you lie.

"Yes, Max." his father sighed, already annoyed by the talk you and him just had, and now he had his son asking him the same question over and over again.

"About what?" the exasperation in the racer's voice pulled a smile to Jos's face.

He turned to his son with his arms crossed, "Win this race, and I'll tell you."

Max blinked, truly that was the last thing he expected to come from his father...and it made him mad. Years of winning and winning, and the man couldn't tell him this one thing? When had he ever asked for anything from him?

Max scoffed, rolling his eyes before walking away, ignoring his father's calls behind him.

.

There was something so intimating about Oscar Piastri and his blank face. Maybe it was because of how calm cool and collected he was, while at the moment you were the exact opposite. Either way, you were cursing Secret Santa for putting you in this position.

It was the day after your pick when you ran into him in the hotel reception center, he was sitting on a couch, eyes and face blank.

You contemplated walking away multiple times, but you knew you needed all the imput you could get to get Max the perfect gift.

"Hey Oscar..." you sang awkwardly slowly sliding down to the spot next to him.

He blinked slowly, turning to you slowly, "Hey." he mumbled, before turning back and facing straight, no doubt creeping out some of the people walking by.

You argued with yourself mentally, trying to build up the courage to talk with the man next to you, "So uh.. who'd you get for Secret Santa?" you tried, cringing into yourself.

"I'm not supposed to tell you."

"I'm won’t tell anyone."

"You'll tell Max." you didnt bother trying to defend yourself, knowing he was right, you would've definitely blurted it out to Max.

"Yeah.." you mumbled slowly, prusing your lips.

"You got him right—Max?" he asked simply.

You snapped your head over to him before looking around the hotel reception room crazily, "Shh!" you whispered and shouted, "He could hear you."

Yesterday after Max's conversation with his father, you were sure he was going to come back and let you know that his father had spilled the beans, teasing you over not being able to keep 'secret' Santa a 'secret' for longer than 24 hours.

But he never did. Instead, he complained about Jos for almost a full hour, not once did he bring up the gift situation.

"Yes. Because I'm sure he can hear me from the track...from here."

You shrunk slightly in embarrassment, you were not aware he had left the hotel, "You never know." you scoffed, rolling your eyes, "So uh.. you're good at gift-giving, right?"

Oscar tilted his head in thought, "I mean, I don't think it's something I'm known for."

"But like, you're good at it right?" you tried leaning towards him.

"Yeah, I guess so."

Happily, you slightly bounced on your spot, "Great!" you paused, "So like, hypothetically, if you got Max for Secret Santa," you saw a small smile spread on Oscar's face, "Hypothetically, what would you get him?"

Oscar hummed, "Hypothetically..." he dragged the word out, he paused before seeming stumped, "I don't know.."

"Oscar!" you groaned, slumping in disappointment.

"I seriously don't know," he whispered to himself, seemingly distraught, "Wow...I don't know."

The room's tone shifted as Oscar kept mumbling to himself.

"It's okay Oscar," you smiled awkwardly, "I don't know, I don't know, I don't know..." he muttered to himself, avoiding eye contact.

"It's okay.." you patted his arm, noticing more and more people were glancing your way, yet he didnt stop mumbling to himself.

You laughed awkwardly, slowly getting up, "Yeah okay." you mumbled, looking around before walking away, leaving him with his mumbles.

You circled around the hotel lobby for what felt like hours (it was three minutes) continuously taking peeks at Oscar, who continued to look in horror at a revelation that he, did not know.

After a few more circles, you thankfully spotted the next person on your ‘help with gift’ list, Lando. He was exiting the elevator, a concerned look on his face as he started heading towards Oscar.

You took off in a quick jog, cutting him off mid-walk, he stumbled on his feet trying to not bump into you, “Hey!” you greeted gleefully, blocking his eyesight as they trailed back to Oscar.

"Hey." he blinked, shooting you a quick smile before his eyes inevitability trailed back to Oscar, who had a deep frown on his face.

"I need your help," you pursed your lips, Lando looked down at you in confusion before looking back to Oscar, contemplation clear on his face. You decided to clear the air, "Oscars fine. He just's...thinking, about what I'm going to ask you actually!"

It took a second before Lando nodded in acceptance, "Okay? What’s up?"

"I got Max for Secret Santa, and I want to get him something super good, but you know I'm bad at gifts right? Yeah, I got you for Secret Santa last year and it sucked," you rambled as Lando nodded with a frown, recalling when you got him a replica of his helmet, like his own helmet, it would've been thoughtful if it wasn't, his helmet, "And I asked Jos and he was no help, so then I asked Oscar but I think.. I think I broke him."

Lando looked down at you blankly, opening his mouth and closing it a couple times, before finally, he took a deep breath, "Okay.." he dragged out, "Why don't you try anything racing-related?"

"That's what Jos suggested."

Lando jumped back in disgusted, "So let's not get him anything racing-related."

You nodded in agreement, "I was going to get him a new cat but that seems like a big commitment."

Lando hummed in agreement, "Especially because he just got one, what's its name? Donatello?"

"Mhmm."

"What if you don't get him a cat, but get him something for his cats." He rose up a brow.

Your face lit up before it slowly dimmed, "But isn't that like getting his cats something and not him something."

Lando shrugged, a small frown appearing on his face, "That's all I got."

You groaned throwing your head back, "No! Lando no!"

Lando laughed, his eyes crinkling in amusement, "I'm sorry!"

You moved to his side, putting your head on his shoulder, "What'd you get Zhou?"

Lano beamed, "A pillow of his cat, Sweetcorn."

You gasped, an open-mouth smile on your face, Lando quickly cut in, "No you cannot use that idea!"

You faltered, looking up with a glare, "Have I told you how much I hate you?"

Lando looked down at you with a cheeky smile, "Many times, yes."

You grumble to yourself, slight smaking him on the shoulder before turning and walking away, onto the next and final person on your list.

.

You had lost Daniel Ricciardo's phone number. That was a big problem seeing as he was the last person on your 'quest to find Max the perfect gift' list.

You had gotten a phone two months prior, actually, Max got you a new phone, claiming that your old phone was 'deteriorating.'

During the process of switching phones, all of your contacts were deleted, a problem that was solved as you went around the track asking for all the phone numbers you could get, the problem was that Daniel was no longer at the track. You told yourself that you would get to it eventually, but you never did.

And now you were in this horrible situation, you had to somehow get Daniel's phone number from Max, without explaining why you needed it.

You could've gone to literally any of the other drivers, but they all seemed to be strangely avoiding you. (Little did you know Max had figured out the next part of your plan and told everyone to ‘hide’ from you so you had no choice but to go to him.)

He was sitting next to GP, pointing at something on the screen his mouth moving widely. You snuck up behind him, giving GP a look, hoping he would take the hint. Thankfully he did. He only took a couple seconds patting Max on his back and walking away.

Quickly you slid into his seat, shooting Max a smile.

His eyebrows shot up instantly, "You're done avoiding me?"

You laughed fakely, looking around the garage, "Me? Ignore you? What? Outrageous Max, just—outrageous."

The driver shot you a look, making you clear your throat awkwardly, "Do you have Daniel Riccarido's number?" Stupid question, of course, he had his number.

"I do." Max nodded simply, you winced you had hoped that he would just offer it on the spot, but of course is it really Max if he isn't difficult?

"Great!" you nodded enthusiastically, "..Can I have it?" you added quickly.

Max smiled to himself, turning his body toward you entirely, his head leaning on his palm, "Why do you want it?"

You faltered, swallowing thickly, "Why?" you stuttered, trying to think of a great excuse.

"Mhm. Why?"

You stared at him, "Because he's my friend. And—and I miss talking to him."

Max's smile got wider, "I got you a new phone two months ago, you haven't said anything about talking to Daniel?"

Shit. He was catching on. "I want to ask him out!" What?

You blinked, shocked at what had just come out of your mouth, Max on the other hand looked more amused than ever, "Oh?" he tilted his head, "Really? You and Daniel?"

You nodded painfully, "Yeah—yeah, um I've been thinking about it for a long time?...and this just seems like the right moment, ya know?"

Max was beaming ear to ear, "No, I don't know."

"Okay well, you don't need to get it. I just—I need his phone number please."

Wordless, Max handed you his phone, watching as you opened it and sent yourself Daniel's number, you hopped off the chair, giving him one last awkward smile, "See you later!"

Max watched you go with a fond smile, shaking his head. God he couldn't wait to see what you would get him for Secret Santa.

.

"I'm surprised to hear from you!" was one of the first things Daniel said when he picked up the phone. You were currently in the bathroom with five minutes to spare before ths race started.

"I lost your number!" you defended yourself, peeking under the stall to see if anyone had entered the bathroom, thankful nobody had, "I need your help."

"How may the wise Daniel Ricciardo help thee?"

You pulled a face, shaking your head, "What should I get Max for secret santa?"

"Easy. Get him something family-related."

You got a hear a pin drop. Easy. Something family-related, of course! Max loves his family!

"You are a fucking genius, Daniel."

"So I've been told." you could hear his smirk through the phone. Unfortunately, you didnt have time to hear him continue, "While I have you, how has your season been—“

"Sorry Daniel, can't talk, thanks for the insight! Oh and by the way, if Max or anyone asked I declared my love for you on this call and you very kindly rejected me? Okay? Okay!" before he could splutter out anything, you had already hung up.

.

Max stood in front of the camera crew, a smile on his face as he shook the small envelope, "So it's not a new cat?" he quipped.

The people behidn the camera laughed, the social media admin shrugged with a grin, "It still could be."

Max shook his head as he started to slowly and carefully open the envelope, "I don't think she could manage to fit a cat in here." nobody picked up on the 'she'

Max hummed as he peeked inside the envelope, "I see a note, should I read that first?" he looked at the admin, who shrugged.

"Okay.." he dragged out, pulling out the note, he cleared his throat as he started to read, "Happy Holidays Max! I hope you're reading this after you've opened the actual present..." Max paused, slowly turning up to the crew who were shaking in laughter, he shook his head deciding that it was too late to stop, "Getting you a present was very very, very difficult, but after some help, I was able to make my choice, I really do hope you enjoy the vacation with your mom and sister," he paused before continuing, "And don't worry about booking hotels or babysitters, I got it all done, Merry (early) Christmas Maxie, with love—your secret santa."

With a huge smile, Max placed the letter onto the table, before excitedly reaching into the envelopes, and pulling out three plane ticks, "Wow." he gasped, turning the tickets and showing them off to the camera, "It's three tickets to Greece for me, my mom and sister," he beamed, examining them further, "I've always wanted to go." he whispered to himself.

The camera crew smiled to themselves while the social media admin leaned in with her eyebrow raised, "Any idea who your secret santa was?"

Max nodded almost instantly, laughing slightly, "It's (yn) I recognize her writing."

The admin laughed, shaking her head, "That's cheating Max!"

Max shook his head, pointing at the woman, "It's not my fault I'm good at this!"

The admin waved him off, "Okay! Okay, you were right, it was her."

Max smirked, "I knew it," his eyes unfocused, wandering over to behind the group of people in front of them, curious they all trailed their eyes over to where he was staring, "I guessed right! You can come out now!" Max yelled out, the camera crew gasped as you peeked out of a thick pillar, hopping over to them with a smile.

"She was there the whole time?" the mic man whispered to the cameraman, who shrugged, mouth open in surprise.

"I don't know...but that's slightly scary."

You walked over to Max with a smile, letting out a small squeak as he pulled you into a tight hug unexpectedly, "You guessed so quickly" you groaned, feeling him press a kiss on your head.

"I found your list," Max whispered in your ear, laughing as he felt you tense up.

"Like the list?" you groaned, feeling embarrassment flood your system.

"The list," Max confirmed as you two pulled away.

You winced avoiding eye contact.

Max laughed, reaching over to squeeze your hand, "Thank you. Really. I love the gift."

You smiled proudly, before turning to the admin who was watching the scene with a small smile, "I'm warning you right now that I am never doing secret santa gain."

The woman giggled, a cerstain gleam in her eye, "We'll see about that."

.

a/n: truly impressed with the writers who write 4k words and UP fics, this one is 3.4k and it took me well over two weeks to write (which is why its being uploaded after christmas) anywhoo i hope you guys enjoyed!!!

[werevampiwolf]

Yeah. At 19, I was finally diagnosed with autism and as unable to live independently without years of occupational therapy and my mother said "fuck that" and threw me out of the house two days later. She'd fought the doctors my entire life to stopbe from being diagnosed, because then that would mean there was something "wrong" with me.

I was homeless for over a year. I'm no longer homeless, mostly due to getting very very lucky with circumstances outside my control (like the fact that I was young enough and had been homeless long enough while continuing to take classes at the local community college to qualify for a government grant for Unaccompanied Homeless Youth, which allowed me to get an apartment. And i was only able to take classes because I was poor enough that the classes were free, and because i had a broken laptop and it never got stolen AND i already knew how to fix computers so I was about to Franken-Computer it into it being and staying at least slightly usable AND the fact that the nearest Starbucks was understanding and didn't throw me out or call the cops when I spent hours in there to do coursework), so my mother takes this as a win. Obviously, the doctor must have been wrong because when I was forced to sink or swim, I've stayed alive (very literally in this case).

I would argue that even now, going on a decade later, I'm not so much "living on my own" as I am "barely surviving", but I try to make it very clear, both to her and to people I tell this story to, that the problem with "Sink or Swim" is that people who sink fucking DROWN.

Because even as someone who was forced, and who managed to just barely keep my head above the water... I'm a very staunch opponent to the idea of Sink or Swim. What I had to live through was horrible, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone else. But not only that, I was very acutely aware that my only options were to figure it out or to quite literally Die.

As someone who survived the extreme of the other side of this coin that OP is talking about... the idea that I or anyone else could manage to survive such circumstances and then turn around and insist that the ends justify the means is both baffling and appalling to me, though I know that it very much happens. I cannot see it as anything other than "I suffered, so you should have to suffer too." It's awful to be on either side of this coin, and if you think it's okay for force people to Sink or Swim, whether you've been in that situation or not, than you can fuck right off with that shit.

Side note, I'm someone with support needs on the higher end of medium. I still can't manage to brush my teeth independently, and I don't manage to feed myself consistently, though I at least manage to do it often enough to get enough calories in me to stay alive (and that's ignoring anything other than calories that make up a healthy and balanced diet, because that's not an option for me. It's eat whatever junk food I manage to get into my my mouth or starve). I have to rely on schedules, because my brain doesn't really understand what hunger feels like. I just eventually feel like I'm going to throw up, and if I'm lucky, my brain figures out that I haven't eaten in all day and that's probably why. But there are days when, even if you put a plate of food in front of me, it wouldn't occur to me to eat it. I will just sit there and stare at it (or into space) without outside promoting to eat. I maybe manage to take out the trash or do laundry every two weeks if I lucky, and sometimes it's only once a month, or less. I have plastic bottles that haven't been taken out in at least six months, and probably closer to a year. Perhaps the only reason I can see the other side of this coin is because I basically live as close to edge as is physically possible without going over the edge, but I really hope that's not it. I don't think people should have to be constantly teetering on the knife-edge of this reality to understand that It's Really Fucking Bad to force people to Sink or Swim, or as I prefer to call it, Survive Or Die.

I don’t think people understand how it is to have been behind on EVERY milestone. Learning how to walk? Late. Learning to read? Late. Learning to use the bathroom independently? Late. Every single milestone was late.

And when you have this, people ask questions. People bully you. Why can’t you shower by yourself at 9,10,15,20? Why can’t you brush your teeth independently and frequently? Why can’t you tie your shoes? Why can’t you do math? Why can’t you do this, or that.

And then there’s the people on social media. “Well I was forced to.” “Well I didn’t have a choice” and that’s understandable and completely valid, but there are people that no matter how much you force them, or neglect them so they “figure it out” they won’t “figure it out”. They’ll die. They’ll starve. They’ll not bathe and be dirty.

Higher support needs people don’t just “figure it out” our brains are wired differently. Our brains don’t get that we HAVE to do these things just to survive. So we don’t. And that sucks.

It’s disheartening to constantly hear people say “well i was forced to” because so was I!! I was forced to do things too! I was neglected too! And guess what? I still didn’t do those things. I STILL wasn’t able to meet those milestones.

The big one that I see is “well I’m forced to talk.” And I get that, but me, a person that’s nonverbal, can’t be forced to talk. No matter if I’m neglected, no matter if my device is taken away or I have no way of communication. I still wouldn’t be able to talk. I CANNOT force myself to talk. Get that through your heads. This is my reality, and although yours sucked there are still some people who cannot do things, and saying that they could if they were “forced” is invalidating of them.

[hyper-fixated-delusions]

You’re insecure (don’t know what for.)

Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader.

*Credit to the owner of the gif.*

A/N: Here’s a little Christmas gift for you all!! 🎄🎁 I hope you enjoy and I apologize for any mistakes! Also comments, reblogs, shares and likes are super appreciated, thank you! :) (p.s I didn’t really proofread this as much because I was getting self conscious and yeah. Happy reading!)

Word count: 1,698.

Masterlist

It was a Friday night and you were lounging in your apartment feeling like the absolute scum of the earth over bouts of insecurity arising in you over some comments made about you throughout the past few weeks.

Comments about how Wanda was too good for you.

How she was way out of your league and how people were clueless as to why she was with you. How a stunning woman like her, could be with someone as simple looking as you.

Thoughts that you yourself have had with your girlfriend basically being a walking goddess and all, how could you not let your mind stray to think those things when you've seen firsthand more attractive people vying for her attention.

So there you were feeling like utter shit while playing video games, when a call from an unknown number came into your phone.

"Hello?" You answer cautiously.

"Y/N?" You hear exclaimed through the phone, having a hard time hearing due to the music blasting from the other side of the call.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's me, who is this?" You ask not immediately recognizing the voice.

"Hey, it's me, Nat," the voice supplies, "my phone died so I'm using someone else's. Anyway, so you know how we went out to the bar to grab a few drinks? Well, as we were making our way back to your place, your girlfriend found a club and made her way inside. She's on the dance floor crying, she won't let me take her home, she wants you," Natasha yells through the speaker causing you to immediately stand up and begin looking for your keys.

"Is she okay?" You ask worriedly, your movements halting momentarily.

"Yeah, yeah, she's fine, just super drunk," Natasha says, her voice muffled by the sounds around her. "Hey, no Wanda, get off of there, you can't do that!" You suddenly hear Natasha say and you hurry your movements once again, "listen, we're at the Avengers Night Club in uptown, it’s not too far from your place so there's no rush, but the faster you're here, the better. So please, don't take too long," the redhead pleads and you nod, realizing after a moment she can't see you.

"Uh, yeah, don't worry. I'll be there as soon as I can, thank you Nat," you say appreciatively.

"No worries, see you soon," she replies breathless, "Wanda, oh my god, no you can't eat that, that's a candle-" you hear suddenly and the call disconnects.

When you locate your keys you hastily make your way out of your apartment and into your car. The 10 minute drive to the club feeling eternal.

When you finally reach your destination you park your car and make your way inside the club, immediately finding Natasha.

"Nat!" You exclaim over the music.

"Hey!" The redhead turns to greet you pulling you into a hug.

"Where is she?" You ask Wanda's best friend when you pull back.

The shorter woman frowns, "wait, what the fuck, she was just here a minute ago!" She yells over the music, eyes scanning the club and immediately landing on your girlfriend that is taking shots with a group of people across the bar from where you stand, "there she is!" Natasha says, finger pointing in Wanda's direction.

Once you spot her you nod and with Natasha make your way towards your girlfriend, trying your best not to bump into people in the process. As soon as you reach Wanda, you immediately realize she is much drunker than you have ever seen her be in the two years that you've been together.

"Hey Wanda, Y/N is here, let's get you home," Natasha says as she gathers your girlfriend into her arms.

"That's not gonna work Natty, I know she's not here, you've been saying that all night you little liar," Wanda singsongs, bopping Natasha's nose, causing the redhead to roll her eyes in annoyed amusement.

"I'm serious Wands, she's right there," Natasha says as she turns the redhead to face you.

"Oh, my god! Baby!" Wanda exclaims excitedly, hands thrown up in the air, a drunken smile on her lips.

"Hey Max," you greet with an amused chuckle.

"New friends, hey, hey," Wanda says, waving at the other patrons she was drinking with, "this is my amazingly beautiful girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N," she beams, pulling you in by your waist to introduce you to the group of strangers.

"Hey!" The group exclaimed loudly.

"Hey," you say softly, waving shyly at the sudden attention.

"Aren't you just the cutest thing," you hear Wanda say, turning to face her and you see green eyes glossed over with adoration and love, "my beautiful baby, my stunning lover, I love you so much," she yells, voice full of affection.

"How much have you had to drink, amor?" You ask, blushing red.

"I'm not drunk," Wanda slurs, and you raise a challenging eyebrow, "okay, I am drunk. Drunk in love," she says with a dopey smile.

You shake your head, "okay, you're definitely wasted," you say with a laugh.

"No. No, I'm not baby. You really are my beautiful lover. So so beautiful," she pouts, hands cradling your face as tears gloss over in her green eyes. "I really wish you could see yourself the way I see you my love, because you're so stunning. You think I'm the most beautiful person you've ever seen, but that's bullshit! You are the most beautiful person ever! You're so amazing Y/N, you make me so happy and you're so nice, all my friends love you, you treat me like a queen. You're perfect," Wanda says, tears rolling down her face, "I just- I love you so much," she says as she begins sobbing into her hands.

"Okay amor mio, let's get you going," you say, gathering Wanda into your arms as you begin to make your way out of the nightclub. "Hey Nat you good, do you need a ride or something?" You ask the redhead once you make it outside.

"No, I'm good, I think I might stay a little longer, I definitely just saw someone check me out and I want to see where that goes," she smirks and you chuckle, "you just get home safe and call me if you need me alright?" Natasha says as she pulls you and your girlfriend into a hug.

"Yeah sure, thank you," you say appreciatively, "and if you need anything please don't hesitate to call," the redhead nods her head and makes her way back into the club as you walk to your car. After placing Wanda in the passenger side, you buckle her in and make the drive back to your apartment.

Getting Wanda into your home seems to be a much more difficult task than you anticipated, the redhead more asleep than awake to properly walk, the alcohol in her system causing her to slightly sway back and forth as you take her up to the apartment.

Once you make it inside you take Wanda to your room, laying her down softly on the bed as you begin her nightly routine.

First you take off her shoes, placing them in your closet. Then you grab one of your t-shirts for her to sleep in. Taking off her dress being nearly impossible as Wanda softly snores.

Once you complete your mission and dress your girlfriend you make your way to your bathroom to grab some makeup removing wipes. As you sit beside your girlfriend you begin gently cleaning off the make-up Wanda wore, your soft swipes across her face causing the redhead to stir awake.

"Hmm, baby, what are you doing?" Wanda asks, voice thick, full of sleep.

"Just taking your makeup off amor, go back to sleep," you whisper, continuing with your task.

"It's okay, leave it on, just lay with me," your girlfriend pouts, tugging on your arm to pull you into bed beside her and you chuckle softly.

"I will in a bit Max, let me just take this off so you can sleep comfortably," you smile as Wanda's eyes slowly open, unshed tears building in her beautiful green eyes. "Hey. Hey, what's wrong?" You ask slowly, a look of confusion on your face at your girlfriend's sudden change in mood.

"You're so good to me baby. So good," Wanda whispers, tears pouring down her face.

Cupping her face gently you wipe her tears away, "hey, none of that Wands, you're my girl. I love taking care of you and you do the same for me, so it's all good," you say smiling softly.

“I don't know what I did to deserve you, but you're everything to me,” Wanda sobs, voice full of emotion, "and don't think I haven't noticed how in your head you have gotten as of late. I know you, and I know what people have been saying has been affecting you. But just know that I put them in their place and that I love you and only you detka, I don't care what they have to say, you are my person and they can all fuck off if they think you’re no good for me, because they don’t know you the way I do,” she monologues. “They don’t know how truly happy you make me. They don’t know how well you take care of me. They don’t know that just by being with you it makes me want to be a better person. They don’t know anything, my love,” she says and you let out a sob.

“God, I love you so much Max, you don’t know how happy I am to hear you say that,” you say, crying.

“You’re it for me detka, before you I wasn’t truly living, it’s like everything was preparing me for this moment, now come on, get in bed, let’s go to sleep,” Wanda says as she takes your hands, pulling you into the space beside her.

As you crawl in behind her, you wrap your arms around her frame, “I love you Wanda,” you whisper, placing a chaste kiss on her forehead.

“I love you, my love,” she replies before you both drift off to sleep.

[tired-xyra-urstruly]

Wait, They Don't Love You Like

I Love You

Ft. Rin Itoshi

Synopsis: Rin was made to tutor you much to his demise.

Warnings: I did not proofread this.

Genre: Fluff, Crack

A/N: Christmas gift for my friend 👅 it's low-key ass but it's fine

“Shit.” was the first word that came out of your mouth after processing what was right in front of you. Not only one but TWO grades below 80. But you weren't worried about your grade, you couldn't care less about it. It was your parents that worried you. You looked down at your grade avoiding the principals and your parents' gazes. If only the ground would swallow you whole right now to drown all of their complaints and expectations from you.

Of course it should've been expected as someone who constantly would get into trouble every other day, it's a miracle you haven't been expelled yet. One of the biggest catastrophes you've caused was planting tear gas into a classroom which got you more than a week of suspension.

“Well, Mr. And Mrs. [Last Name], if it would please you, we can assign your child a private tutor from the school.” The principal interrupted your parents' whines and complaints causing them to pause for a moment. You didn't even need to look at them to know that they were more than pleased with the idea. Not wanting to listen to the planning of tutoring you slipped away out of the office unnoticed.

〔❨✧✧❩〕

You sat alone in the classroom watching the door waiting for your supposed tutor to enter. A few minutes passed by until the door finally opened to reveal the next victim of your presence, Rin Itoshi. Well, he wasn't exactly new to your antics.

“Oh my GYATT. Rinnie Rinnn!!” You lit up seeing him and in return his face instantly shifted into one of annoyance once he heard you call him by that stupid nickname. He was so tempted to walk right out of the door and abandon you.

“Don't call me by that cursed name, lukewarm.” he replied coldly sitting across from you.

“Aw but it's so cute and it suits you.”

“Shut up it isn't.”

“Bbbut–” You got cut off.

“No buts. I was called here to tutor you not to play into your games or whatever you're scheming.”

You sighed pouting at him to no avail. He brought out a pen and paper from his own bag and gave you a look expecting you to do the same. Unfortunately, you didn't bring any, so you just looked at him with pleading eyes. He sighed heavily seeing that familiar look in your eyes you would do.

“Bring your own next time.” He gave you a pen and paper.

“On skibidi won't do it again Rin Rin.”

He flinched once he heard his name being butchered into one of your stupid nicknames again.

“I was called here because you're failing math and English.” he started trying to get to the point to get it over with while you were looking everywhere else in the room except at him to avoid actually getting any work done.

“Pish posh my parents are lying they just want me to be tutored to get my grades better.” That was by far the worst excuse he's ever heard in his entire life.

“Shut it Half-baked. I'm here tutoring you when I could be making better use of my time.”

You let out a loud exaggerated sigh out and picked up the pen and looked at him so you could get this over with.

“Yappity yap yap yap yap yap yap” went the academic boy. He didn't actually say that though that's all you heard. You naturally had to look at him since he was the one teaching after all and he'd probably scold you if he saw you distracted.

Your gaze trailed over his features, his jaw, his eyes, anything you could absorb about him.

…

“Do you understand?” Rin snapped you out of your trance dragging you back to reality. Have you been staring too long? Oh shit nothing was written on your paper.

Rin stared at you then your paper obviously Livid knowing you weren't listening and he wasted precious time on a stupid ass like you. You glanced at the clock seeing it's been around thirty minutes of staring and zoning out. In response you could only give a shit eating smirk.

“On gyatt I understand.” You didn't understand a single thing. All Rin could do was pinch the bridge of his nose and sigh in disappointment. “This is why you'll never pass high school.”

The next few minutes you had left that was allotted to this tutoring period passed with you and Rin exchanging banter and him occasionally giving you insults which you would never admit but you felt your heart being stabbed when he said those insults.

Regrettably, the session had to eventually come to an end. Walking home, you sighed, unable to annoy anyone with your presence anymore. Walking home you wondered how Rin was doing… Oh my god why are you thinking of him you bastard. WHY ARE YOU SO CONSCIOUS ABOUT IT?????

〔❨✧✧❩〕

It felt like no time passed at all, you were back in the same classroom waiting for Rin to arrive. You started fidgeting with your pen staring at the door and the clock above it counting the seconds before Rin would walk through.

You jolted up when the doorknob turned over revealing your as always beautiful tutor, Rin. He glanced at you and then the materials played out on your desk a little bit relieved to see you kept your promise of bringing your own materials.

“Heyyy Rinnie Rin!!” The feeling of relief was short lived and then replaced with the feeling of irritation again.

He ignores your stupid greeting and sits down across from you which receives a frown. “Are you really going to ignore my glorious greeting I bothered to say.” You asked him which in return made him flinch once again. He didn't like your cocky replies a bit.

“I won't if you stop using those shitty names, lukewarm.”

“You're no fun at all.”

He then proceeded to start the lecture again by tutoring you, this time you actually took notes. They were low effort but hey you did take notes. Occasionally you would get distracted… but Rin was way too determined to get this over with to allow you to zone out for too long.

Again, the session had to unfortunately end. The process repeated for a while now, the only difference was you were slowly worsening. Why? Well…

“You're too pretty.” Rin was dumbfounded for a moment, you saw it for a split second. He simply asked you why you weren't improving nor making an effort to.

“Even so, it's not an excuse.”

“But it's the truth.” Yeah gng you were just nonchalant like that. “Speaking of which, are you free anytime soon?”

“No.” You once again pouted.

“But you have no games coming up.”

“I use my time to get better.”

“Can you skip one training session for me pleaseeee.”

Rin let out an irritated sigh before responding, “Just one if it will make you stop nagging me.”

Your jaw dropped to the floor. You did NOT expect him to give up this easily, especially when you made him give up one of his training sessions which is something he treated like his fucking lifeline. Honestly, Rin didn't expect this either, he couldn't think straight when he was placed in the same room as you. Maybe your stupidness was contagious.

You felt like your heart would just crawl out of your mouth with it still being open from shock. When you finally regained your composure you still couldn't muster up to say anything.

“Sooooo it's a date then!!” You voiced, filling in the awkward silence.

“Wait what.” What the fuck did he just agree to? Next thing he knew, you weren't across him anymore but latching onto him like a parasite.

“Love you Rinnie Rin.” He wouldn't say it back. You looked up at him and you could see a pale pink rise In his cheeks, it served as a good enough answer to you.

End.

Tags: @tofumiarchives @yui2aku

[sunsetcdiscs]

Grr.. i love discussions about the normalization of bad things for teenagers/ kids, whether it be fictional or real. Esp as someone who has had that happen 2 me

And i think it's smth that's very prevalent in ctommy's story.

C!tommy is chaotic on his own, so in a way he already had violence somewhat normalized? And I think all these little things add up to how he later treats his relationships w others, and specifically what actions he's willing to let others get away with.

There are, ofc, Loads of things that later normalize violence even more (wars, all the conflicts in general). But in my opinion, one of the biggest things that normalizes violence that is Specifically Towards c!tommy, was the fight in the pit w c!techno. C!techno beat c!tommy to a pulp, all the while c!wilbur was cheering and egging him on in the back.

Then ofc exile rolls around, and c!dream literally hits him w an axe right in the first vod. But that's okay, it's not like violence is Unusual, right? He goes through that week not questioning every time c!dream hits him, only questioning why he has to give up his stuff (<- this is smth that's never really talked about when ppl discuss ctommy's sentimentality for objects ? When rewatching the exile vods, i genuinely don't think there was a moment where ctommy went "hey, why are u hitting me?" it was always just "hey, why are u taking the stuff that I worked hard for?").

And then he runs away but ends up living with Mr. " ''minor'' terrorism". Can you see how that really wouldn't be good for c!tommy? Then when they go to l'manburg, it Allll piles up and c!tommy ends up hurting c!fundy and c!connor.

I've seen ppl before say that they ignore this lore moment bc it doesn't make sense, but to me it makes So much sense? Ofc a teenager who is constantly and consistently surrounded by a violent environment/people is going to be influenced by it? Ntm ppl say that they love c!tommy bc he's an imperfect character, and is this not a big part of what makes him imperfect?

One of the biggest reasons Why c!tommy left c!techno was because he realized it was further normalizing violence. Because he realized that He didn't want to be violent anymore

("Techno, if this is what I've become, then I don't wanna be me anymore, man."

"I'm worse than everyone I've hated- I'm worse than everyone I didn't wanna be *looks at cdream*").

C!tommy's talk with c!connor at the end of the community house destruction stream will always be So important to me

("For what it's worth, Tommy, I don't know what went on today, but- Even though you kidnapped me and I'm still kinda dealing with a bit of the trauma, I think that at the end of the day; you're just a conflicted person, not a bad person." SCREAMING VRYING THEOING UPP)

And a convo that's even More important to me, is the one w c!sapnap near the start of the doomsday stream, where c!tommy acknowledges that what he did was Bad, and that it was because of influence from the environment around him

("Sapnap, I'm so sorry, that you did that, and that I made you do that because.. it wasn't right of me. And I-I shouldn't... I shouldn't take out.. ANY of the fucked up shit thats happened to me o- on other people, and I'm sorry." AUGHHHHHHH CTOMNYYY VTOMYYY AJAN)

[moregraceful]

made it one (1) cookie into christmas day cookie baking without a standmixer before i went this cannot stand, and now i have had my finger on the launch button of my shopping cart on the kitchenaid website for 45 minutes. an interesting thing about me is i will buy a customized jersey for $250+ without thinking twice, but then i look at a kitchenaid stand mixer and i'm like no i couldn't POSSIBLY...it is EXTRAVAGANT... even though a stand mixer will easily get more use on a consistent basis than um. z.ach h.yman leafs jersey. &tc

livejournal posting on the microblogging website

having a very nice christmas so far. i am spending it alone and earlier this week i spent about 10 minutes feeling sorry for myself about it, and then said WHAT the fuck am i doing. to wake up on christmas morning and not want to kill myself is going to be the greatest gift. and made a plan to make cookies and a sheet pan dinner that my family hates but that i love. and you know what, i did not wake up and feel like ending it all, and even though i am having immense cookie struggles, i feel better than i have in years. i like building traditions. it's fun.

talked to my sister and her husband this morning and while i always feel better about everything after talking to them, today was especially nice because her husband got on the phone whipped the fuck about their neighbor's kid or kids hiding musical instruments on their property. he was like you've worked extensively with teenagers, PLEASE explain why a teenager would do something this bizarre. and it's nice when i can be of help to them these days bc they spent so much of winter and spring trying to convince me not to gaslight myself into thinking any of it was normal or survivable. it's nice to be like, ok now i am in a safe space so i can offer my infinite wisdom. also very funny to be the teenager whisperer of the family. the three of us worked through the issue and landed on a solution that didn't involve my sister's husband narcing on the kid to their very strict and religious parents about instrument-playing lol. and that made me feel good bc we are several thousand miles away from each other but we're still very present in each other's lives.

i don't know it's being christian or if it's just spending a lot of years way too drunk on new year's eve to hashtag cope and waking up on jan 1 hungover as hell like goddammit not this shit (being alive) again. but this year christmas day feels like more of the start of a new year. i think about goal-setting and trying new things to inhabit my life more vividly and today feels like more of a place to start. like the light is here and i am too etc. this is a long-winded way saying that my 2025 goal is to take more pictures bc while i do love to live in the moment, i DON'T love that i have next to no pictures of the people i love or the things that i have enjoyed seeing or the creations i have made. not to be a Instagram Poster, but it's like i would love to remember what my internet friends' faces look like. or that cool rock i saw in someone's yard... i don't have to always live in the moment about rocks and friends it's ok to be like, i am enjoying this moment and i want simple proof that it existed beyond my memory.

and i have just tried both cookies i made and they are both very strange experiences that did not really spark joy so i am going to stare intently at the kitchenaid site for another hour

[indecisiveavocado]

Antisemites have been known to hijack progressive movements, that's literally how the nazis got the idea to call themselves nazis, the -zi part coming from a German word meaning socialist.

Good. Good! Now remember that story about the Nazis in the bar and how you gotta kick them out fast?

...You are SO CLOSE to realizing it.

Still images don't tell me shit, the perpetrators need to actually be investigated.

You sure don't seem to need much investigation before you declare Israel genocidal, but whatever.

Calling the pro-Palestine movement responsible for literal genocidal antisemitism is just inherently disingenuous given that Jews aren't the ones being murdered en masse, pro-Israel protests aren't the ones being ransacked

And today, class, we learned that it is Very Bad to talk over minorities & what they say about anti-minority sentiment, except when it's the Jews(TM), when it is totally ok

the pigs

Hi, I don't know if you realized this (you don't seem capable of making basic connections) but that is a very common antisemitic insult and like could you please be originally antisemitic, is that so much to ask?

Melissa Barrera seems complicated but um per JTA it's not quite "just" that, it...

The “In The Heights” star had reportedly posted that “Western media only shows” the Israeli side of the conflict, adding, “Why do they do that, I will let you deduce for yourself” — wording that flirted with dog-whistle stereotypes about Jews controlling the media.

Given that, it seems plausible she made more obviously antisemitic comments in somewhat more private areas (eg filming).

a teacher in California lost her job at a Jewish-run charter school for supporting Palestine

If you're referring to this:

It was in a shul, I haven't found any mention of it being run by Jews.

It wasn't just that. It was that they did the following:

Taught first graders (!) about genocide

It was a fucking MATH LESSON

They praised a kid who was like 'what if they find somewhere else to live', aka 'go back to poland' (we tried, they killed us)

You calling this "1930's-style antisemitism" is an insult to people who actually suffered through genocide.

Which you are clearly an expert on.

You ain't suffering shit

I am not, mercifully.

I am fully aware that is not true for other Jews. I am a Reform Jew. I don't look visibly Jewish and I have been wearing more obviously Jewish clothes (T-shirts with Hebrew on them, for instance) less. I'm fairly introverted and don't go out much; I often go to places like the Jewish neighborhood, but otherwise not so much. I am about as privileged with regards to that as it can get.

But you don't know that about me. You could've guessed I'm not Orthodox since I post on Saturdays. But you don't know much else. For all you know I could have been (Pittsburgh Jewish Chronicle, various incidents, all local, clearly antizionist, since Oct 7)

I could be Rebecca Wells, told to kill herself, having "Literature, flyers, notes and pictures of mangled bodies were placed on the couple’s car windshield twice".

I could have been a student at Pitt, trying to learn and told to die in Gaza.

I could have been part of one poor family who's had their home vandalized, and...um, quoting the Chronicle: "The incident was one of many the family has endured over the last several weeks, including graffiti painted on a sidewalk outside of their home which read “For Blood and Soil,” a Nazi slogan....Over the last several weeks, the family has had their Israeli flag removed from their yard and trampled, pro-Palestinian propaganda pasted on their front door and pro-Palestinian literature with pictures of dead children and the note “The child murders of Gaza” scribbled on it with a Sharpie shoved into their mail slot.""

I could have been Michael Jacobs, whose business almost had its windows smashed (and the business truck had its windows smashed).

I could have been at the local high school and seen the "FREE PALESTINE" grafitti (and some 'We Stand With Israel' signs defaced), deliberately done one day before the five-year commemoration of a local antisemitic shooting.

I could have seen some messages: "The chalk messages thanked Hamas, which broke a cease-fire on Oct. 7 when 3,000 terrorists entered Israel from Gaza to murder Jewish men, women and children, commit rape and kidnap more than 240 people; more than 120 hostages remain missing. [paragraph break] “I love Hamas,” “Long live Intifada!,” “Hamas are freedom fighters,” “Don’t believe the white lies” and “Zionist lies only work if you have a severely low IQ,” were just some of the messages written on the sidewalk."

I could've been one of these two students: "Two University of Pittsburgh students were attacked on their way to Shabbat services Friday evening by a man wearing a keffiyeh, a scarf symbolizing solidarity with the Palestinian cause. The man, later identified as [removed], allegedly threw a bottle at the students, who were both wearing yarmulkes".

Or someone else: "One man in the group noticed his Star of David and, according to [the person], made a nasty facial expression. [paragraph break] “He proceeds to say ‘F— the Jews,’ with a lot of hateful and antisemitic language,” [the person] said. “He said I looked Jewish and started saying offensive things about my identity and religion and Israel."...The group proceeded to assault the Jewish student. [paragraph break] “It was a large group of individuals on the street,” [the person] said. “They began to punch me in the face and kick my body.” [paragraph break] While the physical assault was taking place, [the person] said the group continued to hurl antisemitic insults at him.

I could've been a student at Pitt medicine. "That chat was compromised shortly after Oct. 7. [paragraph break] “Two students started posting inflammatory messages,” Branstetter said....The posts became increasingly antisemitic, he said, until there were some that “indicated violent intent against all Jews.”...Jewish students saw the majority of their classmates agreeing with “threatening and flagrantly antisemitic” posts. [paragraph break] When the posts were brought to the attention of the medical school’s administration, Branstetter said the administration recommended that Jewish students leave the group. That would have undermined their education, Branstetter noted....Another concerning incident occurred at the medical students’ “pinning ceremony”....During the ceremony, one of the senior medical students grabbed an open microphone and went on an “antisemitic tirade, implying that you can’t be a real doctor if you support Israel,” Branstetter said. “It was horrific and nobody stopped it.” [later, discussing the group chat some more] A third-year medical student, who requested anonymity for fear of retribution by the administration and fellow students, said the chat group — which had never been home to political discourse — became uncomfortable for Jewish students almost immediately after Oct. 7. [paragraph break] “People have been very, very vocal,” the student said. “It started as pro-Palestine and quickly turned to anti-Israel. The words being used are very aggressive. They throw ‘genocide’ and ‘Zionism’ around in a very negative context.”...“I got called a lot of names. Someone called me racist,” they said. “I couldn’t focus because I could tell there were people talking negatively about me behind my back. It was clear when I entered a space, because we all used to take exams together. People would look at me with disgust and disdain.”

You simply don't know who I am. (And that's for a reason. I don't think - I hope - it was going to be followed through on if they knew my information, but, in response to one post I made, someone threatened to swat me.)

You're not calling out antisemitism, you know for GODDAMN CERTAIN you weren't doing that with your post

And how do you know that? I, in fact, was calling out the fact that antisemitism is quite common - and also so if someone later claimed it wasn't, I'd have the documentation to show it was.

Like do you think it's marginalized people who are committing hate crimes against Jews?

The person hit by a car was run over by a Palestinian-Iranian. The boy who had his peyot cut off had them cut off by an Arab. I thought they were marginalized. So, yes.

Fuck you, you genocidal loser.

Somehow this is better reasoned than the rest of your argument.

an incomplete list of hate crimes in the past fourteen (14) days against jews not in Israel, in no particular order

A shul was defaced with swastikas (Minneapolis, US)

A shul was firebombed (Montreal, Canada)

An ATM dispensed antisemitic banknotes, complete with 'Fuck Jews' (Sydney, Australia)

Swastikas at public high schools (Virginia, US)

Antisemitic stickers at the Boston University Campus ("spreading" from Harvard)

More antisemitic grafitti (Indiana, US)

(or maybe 12) 5 antisemitic attacks in Zurich (Zurich, Switzerland)

(or 13) Swastika grafitti in Pittsburgh, where I live (Pittsburgh, US)

(or 14) A car burned and grafitti sprayed in another antisemitic attack in Australia (Australia)

(or 15) That Melbourne arson attack (Melbourne, Australia)

(or 16) Jordan Acker's home was vandalized (Michigan)

(or 17) The San Francisco Hillel was vandalized with antisemitic grafitti (San Francisco, US)

(or 18) An Israeli in California was wounded after someone DROVE A FREAKING CAR INTO THEM (California, US)

(or 19) Someone intentionally cut off the peyot of a Jewish boy in New Jersey, akin to ripping the hijab off a Muslim woman, only it takes a while for her to get another hijab (New Jersey, US)

Mind you, as far as I know, this was a relatively typical two weeks. Goodness knows there were many more that went unreported. And many of these were basically unreported in the non-Jewish news, because no one really pays attention unless it's something big, like arson. Imagine if some tailor destroyed the hijab of a Muslim girl after saying not to, as her mother begged for him to stop. National news, right? But if it's a Jew - no one cares.

But tell me more about how antisemitism isn't a big problem and I shouldn't worry again.

[watarfallar]

Anyone else stuck in the desert? Yes? Same. Have some incorrect quotes for our suffering.

Scar: That was a joke. Say ha. Grian: Ha. Scar: Now do it again. Grian: Ha. Scar: Congratulations, you are officially the life of the party.

Scar: Ayo, what the FUCK is this?!? Grian, sitting down, surrounded by corpses: I won Mafia, that’s what.

Scar: English is CRAZY. Oregano is both a spaghetti leaf topping and a form of paper art! Grian: What is this "paper art" you speak of? Scar: That shit where you make cranes and stuff out of folded paper! Grian: … Scar.

Grian: Last week, Scar tried to flush a live lobster down the toilet "because it worked for Nemo".

Grian: What are your three best qualities? Scar: I’m hot, I have soft hair, and sometimes I cry because I love my friends.

Grian: Don’t stay up all night, Scar. Last time you got this sleep-deprived, you tried to eat your own shirt.

Scar: I baked you a pie! Grian: Really?! What flavor? Scar: pulls gun out of the pie DEATH!

Scar: Why are we friends? Grian: Poor decisions on your part.

Grian: They couldn't find their way out of a paper bag. Scar: That's not true! I found my way out of a paper bag yesterday!

Scar: No, I don't want to talk about physics! I don't know anything about the laws of physics because they are hard and boring. I simply would like them to behave in a way that is most convenient to ME and MY LIFE! Is that really asking too much? Grian: Yes, as a matter of fact, it is! Scar: Well, guess what? Science is stupid bullshit!! Grian: You take that back!!! Scar: No. Magic is awesome. Science blows. The end.

Scar: Please could you go to the shop and get a carton of milk, if they have avacodos get six. Grian, coming back from the store with six cartons of milk: They had avacados!

Scar: Wow, I really think I would’ve gotten along with young Grian! Grian: I know. That’s why I decided to change everything about my life.

Grian: Wake up! The sun is shining! Scar: What do you want me to do, photosynthesis?

Grian: I never tell people off the bat that I'm gay. I wait. I wait until they say some homophobic shit and then I laugh and am like "you know I'm gay right?" and watch the look of terror on their face. Scar: Scar: I like you.

Scar: School sucks. Grian: I know, but you have to do it so you can get a job. Scar: What are jobs like? Grian: They suck.

Grian: Go fuck yourself. Scar: Come over here and fuck me yourself you coward!

Scar: I'll offer you some friendly advice- Grian: I don't want your advice. Scar: Well, then consider it unfriendly advice.

Grian: So, what are we doing? Scar: Wasting our lives. Grian: I meant for lunch…

Grian: Gatekeep, girlboss, and what's the other one again? Scar: There isn't another one. You're crazy. The entire fandom: GASLIGHT! IT'S GASLIGHT!

Grian: Do you think I’m ugly? Scar: It’s not about looks, Grian. What’s valuable is on the inside… Grian: Scar… Scar: For example, someone's heart. Grian: Aw… Stop it- Scar: It could be purchased for more than a million dollars, you know. Grian: Seriously, stop.

Grian: Ah ready for another fantastic day of being better than Scar.

Scar: Don’t trust everything you see on the internet. Grian: Pfft. What possibly nonsense could come from the internet? Oh. Did you know that the Earth is actually flat? Scar: Takes away Grian’s phone Yeah, that enough for you.

Scar: honk. Grian: WHAT. Scar: HONK. Grian: WHAT DOES HONK MEAN THIS TIME YOU WHIMSICAL PIECE OF SHIT?????

Scar: Might I make a suggestion you possibly won’t like? Grian: Do you make any other kind?

[jessiedressesup]

aftg au where andrew and aaron are supernatural creatures of some kind. werewolves, vampires, whatever. completely separate from neil and the moriyama's whole deal.

[tinystepsforward]

ngl it makes me want to die a little bit that it's so often trans people who feel that sex is mutable but oppression is always-forever based on asab in ways that allow them to demand that information from other trans people. like it feels fucking bad. it feels bad when it's people holding up someone who posts a lot of selfies as transition goals to a degree they have to clarify what they have or haven't done or what "direction" they're going in, it feels worse when people are out there like "caster semenya is not tma" or whatever the fuck. i am, as always, not a trans woman, but here's a sentiment echoed by many of the trans women around me who log the fuck off, quoted directly from one: "people who draw a clear line where they say that semenya or khelif are tme and then call me tma are just calling me male at this point".

like i get it. i really do. we seek community and shared experiences, and we feel betrayed when people have less in common with us than we thought they did. [*more on this later.] but that's not those people's faults and my god in the case i'm seeing play out on twitter rn this poor person did absolutely nothing to intentionally mislead people, just posted pictures of their actual kid self. who looks a lot like i did, because shockingly enough "we can always tell" doesn't fucking work for trans people either!

on the one hand i move in intersex circles which are unapologetically welcoming in cis "dyadic" people with pcos, because it serves nobody to draw a clear line where mutilation or genetics or some ineffable childhood suffering are what make somebody intersex, especially when most of us (esp in places like nz) have never been karyotyped and are being treated for symptoms without a pinned-down cause anyway. the more of us there are the stronger we are, the more pressure we can exert on a medical profession which doesn't like to consider how common outliers are, how uneasy sex is at all. and then on the other hand there's dyadic trans people on the internet who've yelled me out of spaces because a couple of traumatised incarcerated trans women i worked with as a prison abolitionist assumed i was also a trans woman and i didn't immediately tell them my entire csa-involved history of being sexed in varying ways as an infant and child and/or exactly how big my phallus was at birth or where in my junk config my urethra lives so they could decide i was tme or whatever.

returning to the * for a related but not identical thought: i think presuming shared experiences leads to some fucked shit in general! "oh we all had a radfem phase" or "oh we all were channers" no we fucking weren't and it's particularly obnoxious when me & mine are trying to build trans community locally to organise and resist the growing wave of far-right backlash against our existence, and there's just white people in there on a spectrum from "straight up being antisemitic and trying to get the n-word pass" through "handwringing about how they need to make space for people who aren't politically correct" to "handwringing about how brown people are right to be mad at them but doing shit fuckall". and then the other fucking brown people in the space are on some identity politics shit where they're like "trans joy inherently excludes those of us who could get deported" or "big city white queers are killing us by being visible instead of going stealth bc it stirs up the discourse" or whatever the fuck i've heard pulled out this year. there's a bunch of reasons i primarily organise outside of trans spaces and that's one of them. i've never felt more alone in spaces where people claim we're all the same than being left as the brownest moderator or organiser in a space full of people to whom "this is a safe trans space" apparently means they get to abdicate all other responsibilities not to lapse into presumed shared patterns that are fucking racist or otherwise alienating. i've never felt more alone than surrounded by exclusively trans people who sort people into boxes and assume everyone in those boxes has the transition goals they have. like i was on cypro until it disagreed with me to the point of endocrine crisis and now i'm on t and at both those points people were so fucking presumptive or entitled to my reasons or journey or personal relationship w my body

literally just submitted on (and was invited to consult on) the nz law commission's review of the human rights act and like. it's straight up fucked how many nz trans people fully do not comprehend that any "sex assigned at birth" type definitions fundamentally exclude migrants who have no way of proving it and many intersex people who happen to have been reassigned later or many times or never assigned at all as a baby. we can't make law with this shit and that's why we have to have symmetrical protections for all genders/sexes/expressions/presentations, bc naming and defining a protected class here often leaves the people who already are left out from those shared experiences of marginalisation out in the cold when they face violence

[beef-brisket]

It took Lucifer a few moments to realize that Adam was rocking him slowly. He was so exhausted, so Lucifer just leaned to Adam's chest.

Adam held him for a few hours. He was surprised that he didn't find himself minding the king being in his arms. In fact, if he wasn't careful, he would surely be blushing from the fact that Lucifer went to find him for comfort.

Once Lucifer was asleep and breathing a bit better, Adam placed him in bed and pulled the blankets on top of him.

He was sick of Lucifer not telling him anything. Adam hated watching him die. He was a pain in the ass, but he didn't deserve this.

Adam slowly and quietly left his room and went to find Charlie. Hopefully, Lucifer has spoken to her about everything going on.

And lucky for Adam, she was just coming out of her office, and her guard dog wasn't with her.

Adam: Hey rainbows.

Charlie jumped and turned to face Adam. When she saw him, her face beamed.

Charlie: Adam! You're out of your room! And on your own! That's amazing!

Adam really hated that he actually liked Charlie's praise. But he'd rather die again than tell her that she was actually helping him.

Adam: Uh- yeah, thanks. I need to talk with you, are you free?

Charlie: Wow, Adam. Two therapy sessions in one day? I love the excitement, but spilling your feelings is exhausting, and it's probably best we leave this be a two appointments a week kinda thing, Adam.

Adam rolled his eyes: It's not about me, it's about your old man.

Charlie: O-Oh! Right! Come on in!

She held the door open for Adam and followed him inside. Charlie tried to hide the nervous ticks she had. She's really hoping this meeting will help her dad.

Adam: Right. Look. Your dad is... currently dying. And he won't fuckimg tell me anything, and it's driving me nuts.

Charlie: I understand, he won't tell me much either.

Adam sighed: Just... I want to kill the fuckers he's crushing on. Lucifer won't do the surgery and refuses to talk to the bastard doing this shit. So, if you know who it is, I'd like to know.

Charlie: ...you... want to kill h-them?

Adam: Yeah. Killing sinners is kinda my thing. What's one more?

Charlie: Oh, Adam. That's really adorable! Oh my god! You want to help someone!

Adam groaned: Look, princess. I may be hot, but that doesn't mean I'm a cunt, alright? He's in fuckibg pain, and as much as I... dislike him, I'd feel better disliking him when he's not on his death bed. So, do you know who he's got the hots for?

Charlie beamed again: You don't hate him anymore?!

Adam: Charlie! Come on, man! I'm really trying here!

Charlie: Okay, okay, sorry... yes. I know who da has a thing for.

Adam: Okay. Great. Where are they?

Charlie tried to hold back her smile: At the hotel~.

Adam: What?! It better not be that radio bastard! Actually, I hope it's him, I've been meaning to finish the job...

Charlie: ...what? You want to kill Al?

Adam blinked: Uh... no. Anyway, is it... a chick?

Charlie: A-Adam! The only chick's here are Vaggie and Nifty!

Adam: ...yeah?

Charlie: No! It's not a chick!

Adam: A dude? I knew that fucker was fruity... alright. The cat? He'd be easy to kill-.

Charlie: No! It's not Husk-!

Adam: The porn star? I mean, I get it. Four hands are kinda hot.

Charlie: It's not Angel-!

Adam: Hm... who else is here...? Bitch, you don't have many guests, huh?

Charlie rolls her eyes: There's one other guest here, Adam.

Adam: ...hm....

Charlie wanted to die. He was actually thinking about this?

Adam: ...Oh no. It wasn't that snake fuck, was it? Shit. My bad-.

Charlie: Adam! It's not Pentious!

Adam: The fuck are you yelling at me for?!

Charlie pulls at her hair: Did you lose some of your brain when Dad beat you up?! It's you, Adam! Fuck!

@things-arent-what-they-seem66 @fanofstuff01

Hanahaki Disease

The day of the failed extermination was the end of many things for Lucifer. The end of Heaven's terror, the end of his isolation, the end of the Exorcists, but most importantly, it was the end of the First Man.

He had his fun, taunting Adam for anything and everything, his weight, his wives, his attitude. He knew there was no way in Hell Adam would ever be able to beat him, let alone hurt him. But it was fun to rile him up, fucker did put his hands on his daughter. He deserved it.

Feeling Adam's mask break open under his fist was so incredibly satisfying, but not as much as feeling the bones in Adam's face crack and snap as he landed blow after blow. Just when he was about to do something horrific with his Hellfire, he felt a warm touch on his shoulder.

Looking up, he was met with the face of his daughter, begging him for mercy. Of course, Lucifer felt a teeny tiny weeeny bit bad when he saw how much golden blood covered Adam's face and clothes. But that feeling quickly left when he crawled out of that crater to spew more self-righteous bullshit.

After that, everything was a blur. The sudden silver blade sticking out of Adam's chest, to him falling, landing on the ground with a sickening crack. The tiny maid on his back, stabbing him over and over. And laughing while doing it.

Lucifer watched as an angel with one arm ran over to Adam and pulled him onto his back. Her begging was hard to listen to. It was affecting a deep part of him that was making him feel sympathy for the pathetic bastard. He couldn't have that.

So, he threw them out. Every single one of them. Forcing the army to leave their dead to be feasted on by the cannibals.

Lucifer helped his daughter rebuild. He even cooked some pancakes for everyone.

It wasn't until he was sure everyone at the hotel was asleep that he went out to check the carnage. At least, that's what he told himself. But it was a useless lie as he beelined for Adam's body.

Lucifer felt sick as he saw the state of it. Most of his stomach was gone, his limbs bitten down to the bone. But the most painful thing was his wings. They were broken, snapped, and torn apart. Eaten.

He was eaten.

Just when he thought it couldn't get any worse, the man twitched. And groaned. A bubbling noise escaped his throat, golden blood running out of his mouth.

He's alive.

Lucifer knelt down, his hand hovering just above his chest. It was definitely raising and falling. It was very weak, but it was still happening.

That's when Adam said his final words.

Adam: ...h-hate... you...

Lucifer watched as his eyes became empty. No feeling or purpose behind them. No holy light.

The day of the failed extermination was the end of many things for Lucifer. The end of his old friend. The end of all the good memories he had from Eden. The end of his hope to repair things with Adam.

But, the day after the failed extermination was the start of many things for Lucifer. The start of seeing Adam's chest slowly start to raise again. The start of Adam's stay at the Hazbin Hotel. The start of Lucifer's own personal Hell. The start of hanahaki disease.

It started the first day Adam was at the hotel. The man looked broken and defeated. He didn't even argue with Charlie when she told him about what he'd need to do to stay here. And she wasn't holding back, and neither was Maggie.

She had her spare pressed into Adam's neck the whole time. But the light in his eyes was gone, the need to fight back. He was still healing and was quite the horrid sight, but even that didn't give him any mercy from the members or workers at the hotel.

He watched Adam limp his way to the room Charlie said was his. The whole time, he said nothing, even when Lucifer made a few small threats to his life of he tried anything.

Lucifer felt a tickle in his throat, and he coughed and cleared it.

Lucifer: Hm. Weird. Better not have caught anything form those fucking angels.

Little did Lucifer know that was the start of something truly horrible.

[cemeterym]

i'm begging my uni to stop making every fucking student social activity something where you have to walk around a bunch if you are a slow walker who cannot help it they literally want you dead

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

tomorrow is my first day back to work and I'm a lil nervous

I haven't been able to get anything written for here bc I've been trying to get a couple other things written (updating my Bill Cipher redemption fic and starting a Gyutaro x reader x Daki because I make poor life choices)

but I'm on light duty for a month, basically just sitting at the register checking people out, unable to do any stocking or anything bc I'm not allowed to lift anything over 15 pounds so I can't lift totes, bend much, or reach much, so I'm allowed to bring something to do in between customers... maybe I'll get some writing done? I feel as if I'll be slacking off bc that's how my brain works

but you know what, I kill myself for that store normally, I don't work full time simply because I can't afford medical insurance if I did, but even working only part time I give my all while I'm there, I'm not someone who slacks off. so if I'm healthfully and approvedly permitted to slack off and take it easy for a month, I guess I'll take it (... plus, I mean, I'll still be working, just light duty, it's not like I'll show up and get paid to do ABSOLUTELY NOTHING, I'm still gonna be ringing out customers)

ANYWAY MY POINT IS-

get those last requests in! after I get home from work tomorrow, I'll be closing the askbox and won't open it back up till this batch is finished and I swear I mean that this time 😂

[roaringroa]

they should make a life where you don't have appointments, work, school and scheduled events every single day for months on end

[running-in-the-dark]

kinda disappointed with how this weekend went. I mean, it wasn't bad! but it was our first weekend in the new apartment, and I/we wanted to get a lot done. I already did a lot during the week (a lot for me, not a lot for most people I guess), but there's lots of things that I can't do/can't do on my own, either because I'm too short or not strong enough or I need someone else to hold something or whatever. which realistically just won't get done during the week because my husband works full time, so. it sort of sucks that only one very small, unimportant thing got done. 😔

[theflyingfeeling]

Fourtheenth Day of Gift-Giving: Fun Adventures

Prompt: A group project in school brings some unusual friends together

Yes, it's a high school AU, somewhat inspired by / based off this fic idea I had a while ago! I've never written a high scool AU before so pls be nice, also I've taken some liberties with the prompt again, because there's no group project per se, they're simply in the same chemistry class 😌

Banner made by @kraeuterhexchen again, thanks for suffering for me a bit I love youuuu <3

~

Aleksi muffled his third yawn in a row on his palms. Every single week at this exact time he regretted his promise to his father that he’d take at least four optional courses this school year on top of all the compulsory ones in exchange for a language course in Amsterdam next June. The tragedy was that his schedule was already so full with the compulsory courses alone that he could barely find gaps to fill with anything else at more humane times than at eight o’clock on a Monday morning, which was when his additional chemistry class was held. It didn’t help that none of his friends or acquaintances were taking the same class; Aleksi envied them for their superior life choices.

Chemistry could be alright at best, but in general it wasn’t among his favourite subjects. Rather than reaction equations, Aleksi was much more fascinated by the only other guy in the group he knew by name, who, by the happy coincidence of the two of them both being late to class on the first day, ended up being his lab partner. He didn’t know Olli because they were buddies, quite the contrary, in fact; one of Olli’s friends was still bitter about Aleksi standing him up regarding a music project (which had been but a case of bad communication, of which Aleksi was deeply ashamed, even though in the eyes of his own friends it had been ‘such a big-dick move to put that cocky emo loser back in his place lol’), so Aleksi wasn’t exactly surprised that Olli never replied to his sleepy greeting on Monday mornings. Thinking back to it, Aleksi couldn’t recall the boy saying anything at all during the chemistry classes, so that by now he would’ve started suspecting Olli was mute, if it wasn’t for the times he had seen Olli laugh and joke about with his friends at recess. From the little Aleksi had heard when he had passed by the group in the school corridors, Olli had a soft, quiet voice, often blending under the much louder ones of his friends, which was why Aleksi had set making Olli speak to him as his main ambition for the course, rather than getting a high mark.

“Morning,” he said to Olli like he did every Monday, and like every Monday, Olli barely glanced his way. What made this Monday different from all the other Mondays was that Aleksi could’ve sworn he had seen Olli nod at him this time, sort of in a blink-and-you-miss-it kind of way, although it may as well have been just his tired brain making things up. Nevertheless, it gave Aleksi the spark of hope that had him sit up straight, ready to converse Olli’s ears off in case he finally happened to be in the mood, but before he could open his mouth to ask Olli about his weekend, the teacher started the lesson by shoving hand-outs on their tables.

That day, however, Aleksi was determined to succeed in his plan at long last, even if he had to get a little creative.

While Olli was concentrating on keeping his eyes open as the teacher explained the theory behind the day’s experiments, Aleksi picked up his pencil and wrote on the corner of Olli’s hand-out:

Hi! :)

The anticipation nearly had him tremble as he waited for Olli to react in any way; for the longest time, bordering Aleksi’s patience, Olli did nothing but stare at the letters Aleksi had scribbled. He still didn’t look at him, still didn’t say anything or – god forbid – smile; he just blinked at the single word that had appeared in the corner of his paper.

Then, after a million years in Aleksi’s experience, he grabbed his own pencil.

hi

Those two letters alone made Aleksi feel like a winner already.

How are you?

Still keeping his eyes firmly on the paper, Olli seemed to be pondering his answer for a while.

good

Aleksi wondered if Olli was as terse speaking up as he was in writing.

Great to hear! I’m doing good as well :) Do you have a long day on Mondays?

Exactly like a moment earlier, Olli did nothing but stare at their brief written conversation. Aleksi wanted to believe that Olli was just about to write his answer but was ruthlessly interrupted by the teacher ordering them to walk over and look closer as she’d perform an example experiment for them to later mimic.

They didn’t get a chance to continue their little chat later on in the lesson, and they never spoke during the practical experiments they were asked to do – or rather, Olli never spoke, despite Aleksi’s best efforts to at least have him answer some simple yes-or-no questions, such as ‘do you want to try first?’ or ‘can you pass the pipette?’ or ‘oh fuck, do you think we should tell the teacher?’ when their experiments sometimes failed unexpectedly. The best Aleksi had gotten out of Olli was a suppressed snort when the other day Aleksi had accidentally spilled some red colour additive on his brand-new Off-White t-shirt.

“Quit laughing, or I’ll tell everyone it’s your blood,” he had said in hopes of making Olli properly giggle, but it had seemed to have the opposite effect, for Olli hadn’t let out a single sound for the rest of class after that. Later, Aleksi had wondered if it had been because Olli was scared Aleksi actually might, and to prevent his friends from getting wind of them being lab partners – because clearly he was that opposed to the idea of being associated with Aleksi – he had firmly kept his lips sealed for the rest of the class and all the ones that followed it.

This day, someone must have put something in Olli’s breakfast porridge, however, because when the class was dismissed, Olli spoke in his low, quiet voice, not even directly at Aleksi, but more to his general direction, so that Aleksi knew the words were addressed to him.

“See ya.”

“Yeah, see ya!” Aleksi replied, perhaps a little too eagerly, rolling his eyes in frustration when Olli hurried out of the classroom.

It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

~*~

The next Monday, Aleksi decided to go past formalities and straight to the point to get Olli to interact with him.

Had a nice wknd? :) 

Aleksi was most definitely too optimistic for his own good, but he had a feeling Olli didn’t take half as long to answer this time, even though his reply remained brief.

yup

Literally on the edge of his seat, Aleksi waited for Olli to elaborate on his reportedly ‘nice weekend’ – in vain. He rolled his eyes and picked up his pencil again.

What did you get up to?

Olli flipped pencil in his fingers like one would do with a drumstic, clumsily, almost dropping it on his desk. Aleksi saw an attractive blush slowly spread on Olli’s cheeks and hoped it wouldn’t discourage Olli away from the budding conversation. 

At last, Aleksi’s patient waiting was rewarded.

went to see a gig

Aleksi clenched his pencil into his fist out of sheer excitement. If there was a topic Aleksi could’ve chatted about for hours on end, it was music, his first and (so far) only love. He knew Olli played in a band and was sure that if he only could somehow make Olli lower his walls for him, they might actually find a lot to whisper about to pass the time a bit more merrily on Monday mornings.

So cool! Who did you see?

Olli didn’t keep him waiting for long, which Aleksi decided to take as a sign of Olli also being keen on their current conversation topic.

If only Aleksi knew how to help Olli get out of his shell a little more.

a friend’s band

Aleksi nodded, careful not to appear too enthusiastic or intrusive to scare Olli off, now that he had gotten him to write more than one word at a time.

Any good?

The teacher was just about to have the class gathered around her table again, so instead of a thorough review of the music show, Olli only jotted down a wonky yup in response before hurrying to the front of the classroom. During the whole rest of the class, Aleksi was not given another chance to fish more out of Olli’s weekend.

Well, he sighed to himself, standing up to join his coursemates, another Monday, then. 

~*~

Later that day, sort of by coincidence (of having purposefully lingered around the music classroom on the pretext of asking the music teacher about an upcoming extra credit class), Aleksi learnt Olli’s band had a practice slot in the music classroom on Monday evenings. His plan was not to spy on Olli, but he figured he might as well use this newly-acquired information to squeeze a little more out of Olli in their next chemistry class.

Any plans after school?

Only when he noticed Olli freeze upon seeing the question on the margin of his notebook, Aleksi realised how it must sound like to him, so out of the blue.

Just curious btw :) 

Olli seemed to hesitate before answering.

band practice

Aleksi hid his smirk behind his palm.

Hook, line and sinker, he thought to himself, the pencil in his hand itching to write down all the follow-up questions he had prepared. By the end of the class, Aleksi congratulated himself, for his plan to have Olli blabber about their common interest had worked out splendidly: Aleksi had learnt, for example, that Olli had been playing the bass for seven years already and that their band was actually working on their first EP, which Aleksi was genuinely impressed by. What really had made Aleksi feel like he was on top of the world, however, was when he noticed the smallest hint of amusement on Olli’s face; he still hadn’t managed to lure Olli to look him in the eye, but he had made him smile, which was perhaps even better.

The rest of the week Aleksi spent barely paying attention to what his friends were talking or laughing about in between classes, too busy searching for his chemistry class conversation buddy with his eyes. He did so every day, even though he was convinced the principal granting him the rest of the semester off with no consequences was more likely than catching Olli looking at him.

That was, until he did.

It was only a fleeting moment in time as they passed each other in the canteen and over before Aleksi’s heart could settle back to its place from his throat where it had jumped up to. He couldn’t tell since when his lab partner looking his way had started rousing this kind of reaction in him; then again, Olli had never really glanced his way before, so how could he have known?

Maybe that was also why Aleksi hadn’t noticed the shade of Olli’s irises until now. They were dark grey, he could tell, serious but not cold by any means. He couldn’t wait to take a closer look at them the next time he was given the chance.

Perhaps it was time for Aleksi to change his tactics.

~*~

“Hi Olli,” Aleksi said as soon as Olli walked up to his desk the next Monday. As if surprised to hear his name spoken out loud, Olli looked up at him, and Aleksi was granted another glimpse of those mysterious eyes.

Olli didn’t let him rejoice for too long, though, before turning his gaze to his desk as he sat down.

“Hi.”

And that was it: their first spoken conversation (in which Olli had also participated), despite Olli avoiding his gaze for the rest of the class, as was his right. Aleksi supposed. Even Aleksi himself was too giddy about the interaction to think of anything else to say.

It was almost ridiculous, if he was honest with himself. Yet, for the first time during the whole autumn semester, Aleksi was looking forward to the early Monday morning chemistry class.

~*~

Within the next couple of weeks, their conversations evolved from exchanging casual greetings (‘Hi Olli!’ ‘Hi…Aleksi’) to deep discussions about the current events in their lives (‘How’s it going?’ ‘Good.’ ‘Awesome’), which was equal parts exciting and frustrating to Aleksi. His heart would do the silly bouncing-up-to-his-throat thing whenever Olli blessed him with a quick glance of his dark eyes (Aleksi could swear they were a different shade every time he looked), but the moments only ever lasted for a second or two at a time. On the bright side, Olli would no longer rush out of the classroom to get out of having to perform any more small talk, but instead took his time putting his books and pencils back in his bag carefully, even if Aleksi never managed to open his mouth in time before Olli would make his inevitable escape. Aleksi suspected that it was, indeed, the newfound thrill of being graced with the occasional, fleeting look from Olli that rendered him speechless and caused him to miss his chance of getting to talk with Olli at least until they’d reach the classroom doorway. From there onwards they’d go their separate ways anyway, to their different worlds: Aleksi to one in which Olli was a moody emo kid with no sense of humour (or so Aleksi had been told by Isac who went to the same biology class with Olli), and Olli to one in which Aleksi was probably portrayed as a self-satisfied snob who once did his friend dirty.

The Monday after that, Olli never walked in through the classroom door, no matter how intensely Aleksi stared at it. When the days passed and Aleksi hadn’t caught a glimpse of the boy by Friday, he became worried, to the extent he considered walking up to Olli’s friend group to ask about him. He was almost certain that the one with the short platinum-blond hair might have actually told him, or at least he looked the least intimidating out of them all. One of them was almost two heads taller than Aleksi, so he saw it best to stay out of his way, although his smile – in those rare occasions he did smile – was anything but frightening. The one with the baggy clothes Aleksi had once heard rapping at a house party was tiny in comparison, but something about the angle of his eyebrows gave Aleksi the chills. Joel was obviously out of the question; Aleksi would probably never dare speak to him after The Incident. Joonas, on the other hand (Aleksi knew his name because he and Joel often squabbled loudly, with Joel shouting his name in bewilderment, his obvious affection for the boy poorly masked as annoyance), seemed like the kind of guy who would whisper you the right answer just in time before the teacher’s drill of a stare would bore a hole through your skull.

Taking a deep breath to brace himself, he watched as Olli’s friends were stepping in the Swedish classroom. As if on cue, Joonas was the last one about to walk through the door, and seeing his chance had come, Aleksi zoomed over and grabbed him by his sleeve.

“Hey,” he said once he had pulled Joonas aside, hidden from the disapproving looks of Joel and company.

“Huh?”

“Do you happen to know where Olli is?” Going straight to the point seemed like the best strategy to get anything out of Joonas, in case Aleksi had completely misjudged him and he was about to be punched in the face.

“He’s caught the cold. Why?” Knitting his brows and eyeing Aleksi up and down, Joonas seemed sceptical about Aleksi’s intentions, to say the least.

(It had Aleksi wondering if any of his own friends would act as protectively about him, but that was a matter of concern for another day entirely.)

“Ummmm… I have his chemistry homework for him.”

Aleksi could almost hear the cogwheels turning inside Joonas’ head until his expression brightened.

“Aaah… Right! Yeah, I suppose you would.” (Whatever Joonas meant by that.) “I’m gonna go over later today to see how he’s doing, so I can forward the message for you.”

“Oh, great! Thanks!” Aleksi said, as if he had any clue what they had actually been given as homework four days ago.

Ironically, Aleksi was saved by Joel calling for Joonas from inside the classroom.

“I’ll catch up with you later, alright?” Joonas winked at him, and then he was gone. 

Joonas never did catch up with him, however, and so Aleksi was saved from the embarrassment of admitting he hadn’t been following their chemistry lesson after all, more or less due to the disappointment of not seeing Olli after having spent the entire weekend planning what he’d say to him. Not knowing if Olli would be attending the upcoming Monday’s class either, the weekend went by slower than ever, which normal-Aleksi would’ve embraced; this new, strange, maybe-crushing-on-his-quiet-lab-partner-Aleksi was on pins and needles.

~*~

There it was again, that awful skip of his heart, when Aleksi saw Olli enter the classroom on Monday. So relieved he was that he had no means to tone down the excitement in his greeting.

“You’re here!”

Olli looked up at him but said nothing, his silence a pang to Aleksi’s chest. His joy upon their reunion changed into defeat in less than a second, and Aleksi felt like a right idiot for having thought Olli, too, might have been waiting to see him again.

Suddenly fascinated by the cover of his chemistry course book, Aleksi put his head down to hide his disappointment. He was already settled for staring at the abstract drawing for the next 75 minutes to avoid more heartbreak, but then a slip of paper appeared in front of him.

can’t speak doctor’s orders

On his face, Olli was wearing a kind, small smile. In that instant, Aleksi forgot what he had even been so saddened about. He flashed Olli a smile in return and started searching with his eyes for a pencil; he would’ve felt too weird talking to Olli out loud without him being able to answer. Tragically, it seemed that in anticipation of possibly seeing Olli again after so long, Aleksi had forgotten to pack his pencil case. Noticing this, Olli offered him his own, the same, tiny smile still on his lips.

Shame! You’re usually so talkative

He knew he was taking a risk poking fun at Olli’s quietness, but to his great relief, Olli’s smile widened and his shoulders twitched in a voiceless chuckle. Encouraged by this, Aleksi continued with an equally risky revelation.

I missed you in class last week

Having written down the words, Aleksi could barely look at Olli as he felt his cheeks heaten up. He let Olli take back his pencil from his fingers, as well as the paper slip from his desk.

Olli spent almost a minute writing down his reply, erasing and rewriting, until he finally passed the paper back to Aleksi, immediately directing his face to the opposite side of the classroom.

missed you too

Aleksi had never seen three words so pretty in his life.

~*~

What followed next was an entire week of unexpected encounters between the two lab partners, as if the universe was purposefully making them cross each other’s way to make up for the past seven days of not seeing each other. On Tuesday, their shoulders brushed walking past each other in a crowded corridor. On Wednesday, they were returning their trays at lunch at the exact same time and exchanged brief smiles. On Thursday, they almost ran into each other at the restroom door, which is when Aleksi learnt Olli had regained his voice, mumbling a small ‘oops’ after having bumped into Aleksi.

On Friday, at the last recess of the day, Olli’s friend Joonas grabbed Aleksi by his wrist and pulled him into an empty classroom.

“Wait here,” he ordered, and utterly confused as he was, Aleksi had no choice but to obey.

A moment later Joonas returned, pushing a red-cheeked Olli into the room before promptly leaping back to the corridor, closing the door behind him.

For one long, anxious moment, neither of them said anything, Aleksi because he was still too baffled by the latest turn of events to open his mouth, and Olli because he was… Olli.

“Ummmm…” Olli finally said, his voice a little hoarse, so he cleared his throat and tried again. “I just… ummm… there’s this… band… tomorrow…”

Aleksi had to bite his lip, both at how adorable Olli was, fumbling with his fingers as words fell out of his mouth one by one, as well as to keep himself from blurting out ‘yes’ before Olli even got around to asking him anything.

“And I was just… thinking if… ‘cuz I have an extra ticket… so… I thought maybe you–”

“Yeah!” To Aleksi’s turmoil, his tongue could sometimes be quicker than his brain. “I mean… what?” 

Behind the classroom door, someone clicked their tongue.

“Yeah, ummmm.” Olli scratched the back of his neck. “So yeah. Would you… like to come? To the show? On Saturday? With me? Maybe? I mean, of course you already have plans–”

“I don’t!” Aleksi hurried to say. “I can come. But… will your friends be coming too though?”

Olli shook his head. Aleksi decided not to dwell on what the evident horror in Olli’s eyes was a sign of. It might have been because he, too, thought it was a little too soon for Aleksi and Joel to make amends – or maybe he was just that terrified of being seen with Aleksi in public.

“No, they won’t. I mean, Joonas was supposed to, but he, ummmmmm, he’s going… ummmm…” Olli’s gaze wandered towards the door, as if for help.

“To my great-uncle’s funeral!” the door whispered at him.

“To his great-uncle’s funeral,” Olli confirmed.

“A-ha,” Aleksi nodded. “Sorry for your loss,” he said to the door.

“...Thanks,” the door replied. Holding back his laughter, Aleksi turned back to Olli who, for the first time since Joonas had urged them on the stage of their current scene, was looking at Aleksi, his round eyes expectant and hopeful for Aleksi’s final answer. Aleksi thought of taking a step closer to him, perhaps even gently touching his hand, but decided against it before his brain would command his limbs to make such reckless movements.

“Guess I’ll see you on Saturday at…?”

“At six. At Sandro’s.”

If Aleksi didn’t get a wink of sleep the following night, it wasn’t only because of excitement; the moment he laid his head on his pillow and closed his eyes, his mind was filled with pictures of a boy with twinkling eyes and a bashful smile, keeping him awake until he fell asleep to them.

~*~

Aleksi couldn’t bring himself to care if he looked a little dumb, smiling to himself and leaning his chin on his palm at eight o’clock the next Monday. Even the teacher announcing a pop quiz could not have washed away the dopey grin that had been painted on his lips since Saturday evening.

He was smiling at the way Olli’s eyes had brightened when he had spotted Aleksi in the crowd. He was smiling at Olli’s shy offer to get him a Pepsi. He was smiling at how star-struck Olli had looked when the band had first got on stage and the way he had lost himself in the music, rocking his head and closing his eyes as if to let the bass lines and guitar riffs swallow him whole. The band had been excellent, Aleksi had to agree, but more than half the time, all Aleksi had seen or heard was Olli.

And for the last three minutes of the show, all Aleksi had felt was Olli; more specifically, he had felt Olli’s hand searching for his, fumbling and hesitating until it finally clasped Aleksi’s during the final song of the band’s setlist, a melancholy rock ballad that prompted lighters and cellphone flashlights to be lit. In Aleksi’s eyes, they were all dim in comparison to the glimmer in Olli’s eyes.

Lying in his bedroom later that evening and throughout the entire next day, Aleksi had still felt the warmth of Olli’s hand in his, even though they had let each other go as soon as the stage lights had been turned off.

“Hi.” Olli’s voice brought Aleksi from Saturday evening back to Monday morning. 

“Hi,” he simply answered. There were a million things he wanted to say to Olli, but his sleepy, happy brain was still working on finding the exact words.

The smile on Olli’s face told him he’d have time to figure it out, at his own pace.

In the meantime, Aleksi could always improvise, and so he picked up his pencil.

♡

They both stared at the tiny heart on the corner of Olli’s notebook, and just when Aleksi was about to convince himself he had made a terrible mistake, Olli took the pencil out of his hand.

♡ ♡