#i accomplished one of three emails which is more emails than i usually do
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sent an email today‼️‼️
#i had two others i need to write...and it took me an hour and a half to write...#BUT WE'RE NOT TALKING ABOUT THAT#i accomplished one of three emails which is more emails than i usually do#lex says stuff
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"You're being too visible"
This is what my Black woman VP boss said to a queer Black gender non-conforming person. #😳 And let's get it out of the way, the whyte liberal would have a hair-trigger response and spout something to the effect of, you're being too sensitive. But am I?
Two-thousand fourteen was the last job in corporate America that I worked at, and yes I don't have to do any complex math because that is ten years ago. I was over-qualified for the position and paid at least sixty percent less than my standard rate. I remember clearly a twenty-something fellow employee asking me how I had accomplished something that was obviously eluding him when my current tasks were his responsibility. I said I talked to people and we came up with a solution to the backlog.
Part of being too grown and too experienced, is that folks who are twice your junior take much longer to execute and figure out challenges, which are somewhat effortless for you. Per my standing preference I didn't work more than forty hours and performed a job that was over a month behind deadlines and got it all cleared up in less than ten days. #NotABadBitchJustDamnedGood
But my approach wasn't what the youthful employees had done before, I got up from behind my computer, left my desk and went to go see people, my 'clients' as we called them. I am a great believer in face-time and the importance of looking folks in the eye, listening the timber of their voice, and noticing their body language. All of these are a part of the emotional intelligence I have developed while working in whyte corporate America, I use my natural empathy in a way that probably isn't prescribed or best practice, but it ultimately gets the job done, efficiently and quickly.
But I do not look like everyone else in corporate America, and mind you this particular company was quite Black and also queer, I may have been a note too fabulous for this space, albeit it was in essence a creative space. This is part of my becoming more myself as I mature, I remain unapologetic in my approach to the world, how I present myself and this was reflected in my daily fashion which spoke to my unique voice as much as anything.
I don't think anything I wore was outlandish or even unprofessional in a business casual office where some folks would literally wear shorts and t-shirts to work everyday. I had one of my clients say to me after I was told her I couldn't see her any more because of my excessive visibility, was that she enjoyed seeing what I was wearing everyday and our brief check-ins, she felt she knew exactly where we stood on any particular project that we were working on and it left her free to focus on other real issues.
The thing I loved about this very whyte, heteromantic and patriarchal world was that unlike my past in the non-profit sector I was paid a more than livable wage, and I was able to usually utilize my mind, not my body to do my work. My real question is, what does it matter what I wear if I satisfactorily execute my job responsibilities? I will never get an answer to that question, so it will remain rhetorical.
I recall my working at one place maybe not even two weeks when the boss there seemed to admire my freelance mentality and quit. We had previously talked about how I like the off-and-on of contract work, I'd work a couple of months in one place and then take a trip to South America for a month, or three months somewhere else and go to Africa for ten days. The gigs were short enough for me to stay pleasant all throughout because my time was only temporary. Clearly she was sold and wanted to make a lifestyle change herself. #WasThatMyFault?
Looking back on all of this and where I am now I have no regrets, the next time I would be employed would be twenty-twenty, six year later, hundreds if not thousands of emails sent out, dozens of interviews, but not one closing. I wasn't as young as I used to be, quite a few positions I was also over-qualified for even with trimming my resume considerable to appear 'younger', but I think I had become TOO BLACK, TOO QUEER and TOO GENDER NON-CONFORMING. I refused to dim my light or alter my behavior to make whyte people more comfortable with my very overt Africaness, and I was unapologetic about it all.
Today I live off the interest from my investments, I wear what I want, I sleep as late as I please, and my days are filled with the thing I want to do and the folks I want to fuck with, and I needn't attempt to diminish myself in any way to conform to anyones anything. No one should have to change themselves to be suitable to work, if they have the education, experience and abilities. Folk should be hired on their merits and the fact that they can execute the job, not by how comfortable or uncomfortable they make you, or if they know your friends little friend. Nepotism has become the law of the land if you want to work in this country, and I am so pleased its a practice I don't have to fuck with anymore.
[Photos by Brown Estate]
#queer#fashion#fierce#slay#street style#black#corporate america#queer in corporate america#black in corporate america#gender nonconforming#non binary#transgender#trans#colorful fashion#business casual#african aesthetic#black as fuck#unemployable#too black to work#fashionista#over qualified#working in america#white collar career#under employed
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some study tips i’ve picked up over time! not all of them will apply to everyone, but these are the ones i’ve found useful.
- if i’m in a completely silent area, i’m much more likely to be distracted due to a lack of stimulus, so i bring earbuds with me so i can have music playing while i’m working. for me, the best sort of music is music that i’ve already listened to—it gets somewhat tuned out and turned into background noise, whereas new music catches my attention and distracts me from what i’m doing (foreign language music in a language i do NOT understand also works!)
- hydration and food!!!! i usually eat first, and then study—i have a much easier time focusing if im not hungry. for water, it’s imperative for me to keep my water bottle nearby and full—as soon as i run out of water, i make myself get up and fill it back up again, because i’m prone to dehydration headaches and drowsiness, which impedes my workflow.
- taking notes by hand! specifically, i take all my notes in onenote, which automatically lengthens the page as you reach the bottom, and has multiple different types of pen options, and options to display grids and lines. this cuts out my need to remember to bring specific notebooks on specific days, since i always bring my laptop with me—i make a new notebook each quarter, and then create a section for each class i have, and a new page of notes each day. i find that handwriting my notes helps me remember the material better. (also, it’s far less expensive to use onenote than to buy new notebooks each quarter.)
- repetition, repetition, repetition! i have a TOFU deck dedicated specifically to my chinese vocab, and i use anki for flashcards for my other classes (i used anki a LOT in my intro to linguistics course, because i found it hard to remember the place/manner of articulation and language families by myself).
- don’t be afraid to ask questions in class! usually if you’re confused by something, a prof will be more than willing to explain it—and if they don’t have time in class, you should email them or go to their office hours. if you have a hard time articulating yourself on the spot, the latter options might be better—you can write out your questions beforehand and articulate yourself, and then either send them as an email or take them with you to office hours.
- find some variation of study time that works best for you—personally, i study for half an hour, then allow myself ten minutes to do something unrelated (tumblr, read a book, grab a snack, etc). you might prefer the traditional pomodoro method, or maybe something else!
- when studying for exams/quizzes or reading assigned papers/texts, i set some sort of goal with a reward tied to the end. for example, if i need to read three research papers within the day, i’ll allow myself to watch an episode of a show i like after reading each paper (usually this works best with shows under 45 minutes per episode—otherwise i “fall out” of studying mode and it’s hard to start again). this way i get to do something fun, while also feeling like i’m accomplishing the academic things i need to do.
- rewrite notes before exams! usually people recommend you make a study guide, but that’s something i struggle to do, so instead, i’ll go through my notes and write down anything i couldn’t remember onto a new note sheet—this way, i review what’s already in my mind and reinforce it, as well as reminding myself of things that i may not be as familiar with.
- be aware of your degree requirements when planning what classes you’ll take! this will save you headache in the long run, reducing the likelihood that you’ll miss a requirement and have to study longer than you were expecting. i’ve personally never been in this situation, but i know others who have, and it’s very frustrating.
- plan times where you do something besides academic work! this was the hardest for me, because academics, and specifically what i’m studying, are my greatest passion, but if you don’t have something else, non-academic related, to do, you run the risk of burning out very quickly. look around campus, or on announcement boards—there’s probably posters or posts about various clubs, activities, etc! for me personally, i swim a couple times a week at the gym, go to craft nights after class, and attend open lectures hosted by the departments i’m in, or ones that simply interest me.
- if you’re studying a language, find a way to incorporate that into your life! get to know your peers, join a language club on campus, or attend speaking sessions, if your professor offers them.
- if your class has practice exams, take them! these are a great way to figure out what areas you’re less sure of, and can help you figure out what you need to focus on when you study for your exams.
- always take extra credit if possible. you never know when you might have a bad day, and forget to turn in an assignment or miss class, and extra credit is one of the first ways you can be proactive about this.
- don’t get upset at yourself for not being able to do things the same way your peers can! for me, this means that when i get back to my dorm after classes end for the day, i spend at least two hours just laying in my bed, because i have no physical or mental wherewithal to do anything but, at most, scroll tumblr or read an ebook. you might have to find unique ways to compensate for these differences—for example, if i have three assignments due at the end of the week, i do them over multiple days rather than trying to rush and do them all the night before they’re due—, but in the long run, you’ll do better both mentally and academically.
#indigostudies#if anyone has specific questions i can also answer those! but i thought these might be helpful :)#indigo ink
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Canvas, Adhesive, Finger painting :)
One day, us Tumblrites gotta take a stand against "weird question names that require you to consult the question list 1000 times when answering because ???"
Anyway.
Canvas: Do you ever "prep" your fics with outlines or warmups before you start writing, or do you just dive right in?
Yeah, no. Very occasionally, I will make a notepad document I call "squishy red crap" (because it is the viscera and organs and lifeblood of a story all kind of blended up into mush) before writing a thing.
They, uh, look like this. After I clean it up.
I prefer to write the way I prefer to read, which is that I slowly put things together by what details I have, and editing is when I clean this up into a sharp, pointed blade to actually accomplish something.
Adhesive: When you write, do you usually "stick" to one character or story for a while, or bounce around various characters and ideas?
I do now, because I have less time for things, but I used to have at least two or three things running at a time so I could take breaks when my brain wanted to focus on a different type of project for a while. But now it's harder to make time for all of that at once, and I'd like to finish things, so I focus more.
Finger Painting: Share a small snippet from your earliest work (or the earliest that you can get back to). How would you rewrite it today? Either share the rewrite itself or just describe how you'd do it.
HRM. Okay, I'm going to do this in two parts: The oldest thing I can find on my computer, and the oldest thing I have hanging around on paper. But I'm not retyping the paper, so you'll have to see a pic for that.
This is the oldest thing I currently have handwritten. I was 12 when I wrote this, so have some mercy. I actually tried to throw this out at one point, but my former best friend saved it and got it back from her in college, at which point it was more funny to keep than anything.
The first most major changes I would make are start this with Misha in the bathroom mirror sort of explaining what all led her to get there.
Actually, no, the first would be getting rid of these names, which are far from the worst at the time, but ah, I had a "faux Japanese name" thing for a long time.
Mostly, this just has to be cleaned up. There's a very stilted, childish voice I can hear inexpertly telling this story.
Although props to little me for shoving "futile" in there properly at age 12. Just hanging out there, lmao.
This is the oldest thing I can copy-paste from my computer. I was 14 or 15 at the time, and only have this because I'd been emailing a friend updates as I wrote them. The 16.5k words I have weren't all that was written, but it's what I have salvaged.
“Hey, cutie. What are you doing around here?” Seitou whispered suggestively to me. “Oh, screw you, Seitou,” I shot back. “You know I’m taken.” “Aw, but sweetie, you’re just too cute. That girl doesn’t deserve you,” he answered, sweet as honey, but I could taste the venom under it. “Unfortunately, I’m not interested in other males. So find someone else to prey on,” I snapped. Seitou has had a fixation on me for as long as I can remember. Even though I’ve told him I am not interested in guys from the second he started hitting on me, he seems to be too thick headed to get it. I am completely straight, and I have a long-term girlfriend to prove it. Reisha is the most unbelievably beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, supermodels included. From her long black hair to her perfectly almond-shaped blue eyes. I’m not the only guy infatuated with her. Seitou is a completely different story. Besides being apparently gay, he has never had a known relationship, even with another guy. I have to admit; even though I’m straight, - which means don’t take this the wrong way- he is pretty decent looking. He has shaggy brown hair that is just a little long. And his piercing green eyes unnerve me just a bit. Myself, well, I consider myself average looking. The name’s Hakiro. I can’t figure how I nailed both a hot male and female. My own black hair never behaves the way it should, my brown eyes are a pretty bland color. Sure, I’m definitely my own person, never really fitting in anywhere, but will someone explain how that’s attractive? But even though I don’t fit in much, I have plenty of friends. As I was mulling over these thoughts, I noticed Reisha walking up to me. “I have something to tell you.” She said, sounding slightly grim. Even though I was completely secure in our relationship, her tone concerned me. My instincts proved to be functioning correctly. “I think we should end this.” She announced.
Okay, aside the fact that good lord is there some grammar fuckery going on here, and the names, good lord the names, there's some interesting growth you can note over the two-three years between these. Obviously I, ahhhhhh, had read some BL by then. Because wow is this BL tropey from the time.
But it also just starts straight in the action this time. It's much more active, despite the fact that Hakiro still spends a bunch of time navel gazing. Hakiro is pretty voicey--it's not the best voice, but you can start to see my real knack for dialogue and mimicking speech patterns starting to pop already. The, ah, dialogue tags are not as good. But there's some good things happening on this front that will continue to develop as I continue to write.
I think I would (after changing all the names), importantly change this story to make Hakiro a clearly bisexual kid who doesn't know that yet instead of this gay-for-you thing, because Jesus Christ is he bisexual.
I would also...not start the story here? I don't think this is where the story of Seitou and Hakiro's romance even starts anyway. And almost nothing about this scene makes sense.
Also, the way this is written just has so much unnecessary exposition and description that could be handled much more expertly.
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just two hours prior, i was agonizing the rest of the night. i now feel very accomplished. it goes to show how just pushing through things despite your mental state can lead to an overall win for both your productivity and mood. it's not always easy, though, given bpd.
for context, i was offered my ideal job for co-op at my university. which, don't get me wrong, made me really happy upon seeing the message yesterday as i got ready to go see the screening of five night's at freddy's on halloween. however, i had gotten an email from another really good opportunity for an interview, which pays higher than my first choice, and is a similar kind of work. the difference is that mine caters to both students and staff, while the other one is only educational tech support to staff, with a lot of creative side projects to work on, as opposed to projects such as coding and data visualization. i want to learn more techy things, as well as my previous work at the bookstore being a point in contact with the first technology centre. but a part of me felt some grief because i wanted to be a graphic designer and content creator when i was younger, and i felt almost like i was throwing away that dream that little me had, and someone still holds onto every time i pick up a pen.
i sent in the email to respectfully decline the interview this morning. as well as cancel the interview to a big technology and accounting firm who also requested an interview with me. that felt really overwhelming, but i knew i had to as i had two assignments due tonight. all of these responsibilities would have incapacitated me mentally.
but all of that weighed on me heavily, and intensely. although i had woken up at around eleven or noon with d, i did not get out of bed until past five in the afternoon. i debated on what to eat, and almost gave up on the idea. there was a tiny platter of cheese leftover from when t and e came over and d and i had prepared a makeshift charcuterie board, minus the meat and garlic bread bits. just cheese. usually i do not like just eating blocks of cheese, a relic from my childhood where my mother gave me blocks of marbled cheese to eat in an attempt to increase my dairy intake. but goat cheese with herbs... sublime!
although these people could care less about me, it feels like i'm letting them down. if people become aware of my existence (which i do not make a habit of allowing), i need for them to have a good opinion of me. not that i wrote a disrespectful email to them, but... there is just some feeling of wrongness.
while i let these thoughts pass, i felt the wave of dissociation blanketing over my thoughts and encompassing my body in a warm cocoon of emptiness, as if it were comforting me. it is almost motherly in this sense, as it came to extinguish the anguish that i failed to pinpoint. why did any of this matter? i acted appropriately. which is always my fear, that i am not. i would wish my therapist would psychoanalyze me about this. i think she has, about my social anxiety. i can't remember what she said. that's just as well, with my security blanket always washing away memories like powder through a sieve...
as i did some routine tasks such as spending some resin on genshin impact, i thought about the two assignments i had for my undesirable course of the semester. you would think that a class on k-pop would be fun, but this class is anything but. i might elaborate in another post at the end of the year if i decide to do a semester review. i had a written assignment which i had, for some reason, thought was five hundred words (it was three hundred, i got mixed up with the recent paper proposals for my two courses which were to that length). then a pop-quiz on last lecture's content, which i had recorded as i do not pay attention. while i agonize about how unattainable it felt, as i have done none of the readings for that week and did not pay attention during the lecture, i decided to go outside and walk to my residence's main building to pick up my package. a halloween gengar sweater that came a day too late. but nonetheless, it will be worn and treasured. the fresh air did help, and i eventually decided to make my favourite meal, fire noodles, despite its unhealthiness. if i were to put in the effort to use any other items in my pantry and fridge, it would have been more beneficial for my passive weight loss goals, but the thought of cooking something from scratch was too overwhelming.
it was really good. i did not overcook anything this time, and all of the components were perfect. i had regular fire noodles this time, with two eggs, perfectly jellied, shabu shabu pork belly, carbonara fire dumplings, and my usual garnish of baby cucumbers, scallions, and cheese. sesame oil, sesame seeds, and the seaweed garnish packet for the final touches. sublime!
i watched some more masterchef canada season three while i was eating. there is just something more enjoyable when watching cooking shows (not kitchen nightmares, though) while eating.
revitalized, i decided to open up canvas and look at a potential reading i could skim and reference in my paper. it was long (as all of the papers the lecturer assigns for this class, which i think is unnecessary as she assigns three to four readings of twenty plus page length every week. very unattainable considering this class is considered an elective to most). i ended up taking a look at the actual assignment instructions, and the questions she wanted us to answer, i could actually do without any academic references. and so i did. and to put in one source to meet the minimum criteria for this assignment, i was pleased to find that the last paper listed of the week seven list aligned with what i wrote, and i inputted the in-text citation for it behind one of my sentences. again, i realized at this point that i needed to cut down my words tremendously as i had around five hundred fifty, which i thought would be okay as that was the cut off for the paper proposal, but i had forgotten that reading responses for this class was a maximum of three hundred fifty. so i did a lot of cutting down. but it was done fairly quickly, as it is easier to cut down rather than add more words.
now it was onto the pop-quiz.
unfortunately, my multitasking had rendered some of the recording visually incapacitated (i.e. i was trying to fix my discord third party custom skin, and had left winrar open for about five minutes over zoom). i kept skimming through the video for definitions to answer the five questions, and i had found a few after letting it play in certain parts. i was stuck on the last one, but eventually through some buffering through, i found the exact part where it was mentioned. it was quoted word for word, the quiz with the lecture.
excellent.
that's one of the things i dislike about this class. i do not know if it is part of the korean education system, but we had a guest lecturer for today and she did the same thing as my current lecturer does – read out a script basically (which was probably how the teaching assistant wrote the quiz word for word from what she had said). it is very formal and their voices are very monotone, which is hard to stay engaged with. anti-fun. if i tried really hard to, i could pay attention and take notes, but at this point, we do not have any examinations where i have to listen to the lectures attentively. i could rely on the readings and research for the final paper assignment. because what she "says" (re: recites) in lectures are just ideas from all the papers she assigns, anyway.
in total, these two assignments only took me two hours, unlike the five hours i anticipated from seven to midnight. i noticed in my email (which i have been avoiding by changing my phone's focus to my i'm going ghost mode – aka, no messages or notifications can be seen through the lock screen or as a banner) that my lap tray from costco is ready to be received through the main residence's mailboxes.
i happily put on my hoodie and made my way down from my building, vaguely concerned for the weather as the two girls in the elevator on my way down were wearing raincoats and donning a large, black umbrella. well. it was too late now. i trudged through the rain in my pikachu adidas slides and made my way to mailbox b-10, and got my box which i used as a rain cover on my way back to my dorm. i hope that everyone that i had passed by doesn't think i'm weird.
a concern i constantly have. it is very tiring.
i unpackaged it and revelled in its utility. i cannot wait to use my ipad and eat on the floor with it. i really do not like the desk and chair that the dorm came with, and it's hard to concentrate. i think the association with gaming and my personal computer also does not help.
i shared my sense of accomplishment and triumph over today's challenges in my prof's server afterward, to which he suggested i journal about this. and i haven't written on here in a while. so here i am. this is a reminder that i can accomplish tasks that feel overwhelming. and be eloquent, somewhat, than what i feel as of right now and my current unemployment. more on that later, perhaps.
in the meantime, i got to go do my genshin dailies.
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nobody cares about this but i just gotta say it somewhere so i can fucking fall asleep already because it’s 03.22am
i’ve been working like a beast to try and finish off the exams and tasks that must be completed before i can get student loan again, found out monday that i’m missing a meekly 1,5 credits to get my next loan and if i don’t get it in this week then the first cheque of the term is obliterated into thin air never to be seen again, because you have 4 weeks from when the semester starts to accomplish your credits and if you haven’t done it in those four weeks then you don’t get any loan for that period and can’t get any until the week after your grades have been reported
it’s.. it sure is a system but hey some of that money is just free money that i get for being a student and i never have to pay that back so like. obviously i want the free money, along with the loan so i can pay bills and y’know. live a little
these credits are from a class in english that i took last term but i barely passed half the credits and now it’s a race to amend them. which isn’t all that easy because you can’t amend your credits whenever you feel like it, just in the spaces of the re-exam period (which thank god is still ongoing) but even so teachers at uni here usually have a three week grading period. and i have three days. until i can say bye bye to a lot of money.
so up until monday and including half of monday i thought i “just” had to do a 1000 word essay on a short story, THEN i was made aware that i had to do the essay and read two novels and answer questions about those, none of which i’ve read yet. one of them doesn’t even exist in libraries so i’d have to literally purchase it and that’s just not on my agenda right now
realising that i had slim to no chance at being able to manage that, i checked to see if i could finish another task or exam instead, and yes i could do a powerpoint oral presentation on a chosen accent and talk about phonemes and phonetic assimilation and elision and vowels and a brief history of the country and i was uhh fuck but okay. so that’s what i spent monday evening and all of today tuesday doing. i didn’t even have breakfast until 5pm when i was done and had sent the whole thing in for grading
however the person grading that turned out to be another person than who was gonna grade the essay and the novel questions, and that person has been really helpful when i’ve emailed her and told me to let her know when i’d handed in the essay and she’d have a look at it right away. that obviously doesn’t mean i’d get a pass but it’s at least nice to know there are teachers that try to be helpful
the other teacher that i ended up emailing today to explain my situation to (i need to get 1,5 credits by friday ideally, what can i do, i know it’s unreasonable to ask but can i let you know when i’ve submitted the presentation so you can have a look at it asap?) ended up feeling much less forthcoming and even though i finished the presentation and submitted it i’m not entirely sure i’ll get a pass on it. i hope so, but the other classmates had more thorough presentations where they had more examples of all sorts of things, diphthongs and connected speech and h-dropping and consonant phonemes and while i guess my pres was okay, it wasn’t as thorough as some of the others (we had to watch each other’s and give feedback on them).
so at the end of the evening i ended up going back to start on the 1000 word essay even though i realised there’s no way i’ll be able to get it all done, not to mention i have a 700 word essay to be done by thursday for the class i’m currently taking because thats gonna be discussed in a study group with my classmates so it can’t be a rough draft, it has to be actually finished
but then i remembered. the teacher who was forthcoming told me already a month ago when i brought it up that i needed to amend my credits, that i could do an oral presentation for more credits than what i’m currently lacking
and that presentation is different to the one i finished today, which actually had to be semi-decent and thorough
this other presentation, all i have to do is read a short story and then do a 5 minute oral presentation about what it’s about and what the underlying themes are and what the protagonist is going through
it doesn’t have to be formal or academic and i don’t have add citations with referencing and have a thesis statement and make sure my lines are indented and god knows what else all the things you have to have in an essay, and that’s not even counting the words and for it to make sense and be decent
i just have to yabber on about a short story for 5 mins while i record my screen and yabadabadoo i’m fucking good to go my maties. it’ll probably take me longer to actually put together the presentation than anything else, powerpoint and me are not friends but ah, i am feeling really positive that i can get a grade if not tomorrow then at least thursday because like shawn said: i can only fail up, with this
literally legend. anyway that’s everything i had to get out of me.
fingers crossed i get not one but two grades by thursday at the latest, because i need those credits regardless but extra much right now
and the story i gotta read that i’ve chosen is the purple elephant?? was it? by orwell?
anyway that’s all peeps, thank you and goodnight
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Should agencies charge clients for hours incurred or value delivered?
In terms of engendering pure, unmitigated outrage, you have to hand to it Keurig Dr. Pepper; their recent Request for Proposal, requiring 360-day payment terms from the PR firms that choose to compete – yes, a full year – is hard to top.
Who does stuff like this?
Agencies reacted as you would expect, with exasperated apoplexy, leavened with a cocktail of disbelieving laughter and derisive contempt. VoxComm, an organization of agency-only trade bodies from around the world, including the Institute of Canadian Agencies (ICA) in Canada, the 4A’s and PR Council in the U.S., The Institute of Practitioners in Advertising in the U.K., European Association of Communications Agencies in Europe, plus others, issued a “Red Alert” in response to the RFP, urging firms to forgo the search.
Anger is one way to react, but it prompted me to think of my colleague Tim Williams, who champions an entirely different construct for the way agencies of all types are compensated.
Williams believes agencies should not charge based on the hours they incur on behalf of clients, but instead on the value they deliver, and says as much in an email, “How You Sell Is As Important As What You Sell.” Among other recommendations, he suggests you sell a solution rather than a service, urges agencies to be willing to walk away from an assignment if it proves financially untenable, to never lower your price, and to provide pricing options.
Sound advice. Why don’t more agencies follow it?
Three reasons, I suspect:
It makes sense more in theory than practice. To ensure what they’re charging aligns with costs, agencies would need to rethink how they staff and compensate their employees. Hours tracking? Gone. Timesheets? Gone. Monthly reconciliation and reporting? Gone.
Even if an agency has the appetite to change, actually following through to get this accomplished remains a challenge.
“We’ve always done it this way.” Clients, especially their procurement departments, are hardwired to the established way of doing things, which means hourly based compensation. They like standardization and the ability to spreadsheet-compare one agency’s “cost” with another’s. They don’t think of compensation in terms of value; they think in terms of expense and how to manage it or, even more extreme, how to reduce it. They usually are rewarded for doing so.
It requires an enlightened, exceptional procurement person to think otherwise. Sadly there are very few of these resident in client organizations.
A body at rest tends to remain at rest. Behavior change is hard, and both agencies and clients would need to alter how they do business. Add to this many (if not most) organizations are risk-adverse, lazy, or a combination of both, and you have your explanation why things remain as they are. That it’s hard is no excuse for not doing it. Agencies should be accustomed to doing hard things. Clients should be willing and supportive participants in doing a hard thing that absolutely needs to get done.
It sounds simple, but it’s not, given many shops are understaffed and stretched to the limit, plus are burdened with meeting the ever accelerating, increasingly complex demands of clients to deliver on assignments.
If you agree, Williams leads a 75-minute, online workshop, “Changing the Compensation Dialogue,” you would do well to attend. It is modest money well-invested.
The Keurig Dr. Pepper RFP isn’t going to simply disappear, and the company shows no sign of backing down, so the logical things would to be to decline to compete. But if I were given to a bit more drama. I would compete, writing to the client person overseeing the pitch:
“We will be happy to submit a response to your RFP, but require payment in advance, of $10,000 [or $100,000, or $1,000,000, depending on the ask and your degree of outrage] to do the work to respond to what you’ve requested. An invoice is enclosed. Wiring instructions are included for payment processing, or, if you prefer, you may pay by certified check.” Once we receive payment, we will begin work.”
Would Keurig Dr. Pepper reply?
You make joke.
I, frankly, do not give a damn. I simply enjoyed writing that message and sharing it with all of you, knowing there is a small thrill in living vicariously.
If you’re traveling for the holidays, by all means travel safe!
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I have zero experience with Adderall but I wanted to ask if you feel any, I guess, momentum for accomplishing things even when it wears off? One of my major "tasks I can't force myself to start" is my bedtime routine (washing my face, brushing/flossing my teeth, a couple of other steps), so I don't end up falling asleep in my work clothes with my light on sometime between 8 and 10pm, but obviously I wouldn't still want the Adderall to be fully in effect at that point because, well, I need to sleep. Does the relief of having ability to accomplish things while on Adderall give you any kind of boost even when it's wearing off?
Yeah, the bedtime routine can be rough. I used to have a list of all the steps tacked up on my bathroom mirror, so a) I wouldn't forget any and b) they'd seem more manageable since I only had to do one at a time. Ironically, I found the more elaborate I made the routine the less I needed this, so for the last few years it's like a half-hour performance art piece before I crawl into bed. Bananas.
The short version of the answer is "Yes, but not how you think." Here's the longer version, with a few caveats: I have only been taking Adderall for a month, my diagnosis is inattentive-only and mild to begin with, and drug interactions can vary greatly from person to person, so this is my experience, not a universal constant.
For me, the primary impact of the medication isn't more energy; there is some increased mental clarity, but the biggest effect is that I see a task, I think "I should do that", and then instead of going "I can't, I don't feel like I can" for an hour before managing it, or forgetting to do it, I just...go ahead and do it. Sometimes I'll even see a task, go "I can't, it's so unpleasant, I don't want to" and decide not to do it, then find myself doing it anyway without consciously deciding to. Which is awesome but also quite the trip at first.
The effect wears down after about three hours and wears off completely in about five. After it wears off, I don't retain that "okay but I'll just go ahead and do it" sensibility, but I do have more energy than I would normally have at that point in the day, because I haven't spent the last five hours fighting my own brain. Two doses over the course of a full workday leaves me way more energy than I would normally have at the end of the day. So I eat a better dinner, I do more hobbies, I can read or answer email in the evenings. I can work during the day and write in the evening instead of putting off work during the day so that I can write before I get tired.
So it's not that the drug's still doing something, but that the drug basically gives me the equivalent of a free four-hour nap. On top of that, I feel better about myself overall because I did my work and my chores, so usually nothing awful is looming over my head.
Thinking on it, I was also already living in a way that was optimized for this kind of medication, so this is bonus material but may help you out too. I get up very early -- my normal rising time used to be 3, it's now edging closer to 5 -- which allows me morning time to eat an early breakfast, goof around, and do as I please until it's time to get ready for work around 8am for an 8:30 start. At that point I take my medication on an "empty stomach" (at least two hours after eating) and then go straight into the shower, after which I dress, feed the cats, and fix myself a big jug of icewater to keep at my desk. This is timed out so that right as I'm sitting down, the meds kick in and I can answer email, square away anything left over from yesterday's work, and get a jump on the day.
Because I ate breakfast so early I usually eat a snack around 10am, which means when the Adderall is wearing off around 1pm I can take another one on another "empty stomach" and then have a second snack at 2pm. That all sees me through the end of the workday and I have a handful of evening hours for chores, hobbies, etc after which I go to bed early enough (7pm-9pm generally) that I'm not entirely worn out when it's time to start the evening routine.
It's not a perfect system (evening socializing doesn't really happen, and I never really eat a full meal during daylight hours) but it works pretty well for me, and the Adderall slotted right in there very easily.
In any case if you're looking into medication, good luck! I was shocked at how well the meds work for me, and I hope they work as well for you!
#sam has adhd#one month followup with my psych today!#not actually going to send him a link to the sam has adhd tag but i bet i use a lot of material from it
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I have had a few bucky x read fic ideas bouncing around in my head and i cant write! So here is one,
Sam find a person who stairs and doesnt talk a whole lot because they uses ✨telepathy ✨. So Sam think they would be a good fit for Bucky, but he doesn’t know they have that power he just thinks they are mute. Then there is a thing where the reader is telling Buck how it works and they if they have something to connect them together like an object *reader motions to dog tags* they can have an unbreakable mind link. Then they fall in love or something. This is dumb, thank you for coming to my TedTalk
Hey! Thank you so much for this request, it wasn't dumb at all. I really enjoyed writing this. I may have gotten a bit carried away, this may sit close to 4000 words but we vibe. I hope this is what you had in mind! Please enjoy! <3
Click here for my masterlist of other fics and check in my bio for requests if anyone wishes to ask!
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Bucky had been enjoying a moments peace, he loved working with Sam but sometimes all he wanted was to put his feet up, put on some vinyl and enjoy a good cup of coffee all while reading a brilliant book. He had been trying to get into Game of Thrones lately, on Sam’s insistence, and he had been enjoying it. With the crackles of Glenn Miller from the turntable he missed the clunky footsteps coming up the stairs.
The sight that greeted Sam needed to be photographed. Bucky was lounging back on his ‘old man armchair’ feet up, hair in a towel, in a bathrobe, coffee in hand and facemask on, this was definitely one for the family album.
At the sound of the phone shutter Bucky practically launched himself out of the chair.
“Oh, you are never gonna live this one down old boy, it’s going to haunt you.” Sam almost cackled evilly as he began to email the photo to himself- he had learnt the hard way that Bucky was very proficient at breaking phones.
“You better not upload that photo anywhere, Wilson, I have a reputation to uphold.”
“Pfft, reputation, that’s funny.”
Bucky scoffed as he stood up, placing his book carefully on the side table, “Big scary super soldier, people hardly run-in fear from a guy in a bathrobe.”
“I disagree, a man in a bathrobe is definitely something you should run from. AH NOPE!” Sam jumped backwards, on top of a nearby chair, as Bucky lunged for the phone, towel turban falling off in the process. “You are not breaking this phone as well.”
“Fine. But you gotta promise not to post that anywhere.” Bucky huffed.
“I won’t.”
“Good.”
“As long as- “
“Oh no, I’m not doing anything for you.”
“Think of it as payment for the last phone you broke and insurance for this picture.”
There was silence for a moment as the two friends eyed each other up. Sam raised his eyebrows, Bucky’s eyes narrowed. It was an intense staring match between a guy in a bathrobe and a precariously balanced man. A clock ticked.
“Fine.” Bucky conceded. “What do you want?”
“For you to come to a meeting.”
“The families of Veterans ones?”
“Yeah.” Sam slowly started climbing down from the chair. “And before you get your old man pants in a twist, I’m not trying to force you to talk or anything, kinda.”
“Kinda?” Suspicion laced through Bucky’s voice.
“You know sign language, right?”
“Which kind?”
“American? I think?”
“Yeah, I know ASL, might be a bit rusty but I’m sure it still holds up. Why do you ask?”
Sam shifted slightly on his feet, “There’s this person, they come in every week and listen. I tried to talk to them, but they communicate through sign language, and I don’t have anyone there to talk with them.” He cast his eyes to the floor, “I feel bad. They were brave enough to come to the group only to basically be ignored ‘because we didn’t plan well enough.”
Bucky smiled, face mask crinkling around his smile lines, “You could have just asked me to Sam. You didn’t have to blackmail me into this, of course I’ll help. When’s the next meeting?”
“This evening. You gonna be ready or do you need some more ‘me’ time.”
Bucky simply chuckled at Sam’s teasing tone, patted his shoulder making sure to squeeze just a bit too hard before retreating to his room.
“I’ll be there, Wilson, and I will look so much younger than you!”
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It was frustrating to you, going along to these meetings and not being able to communicate. You could always speak into someone’s mind but all that usually accomplished was a very paranoid person. But just listening to other’s stories really helped the grief from losing someone so close to you. You related to most of the people there and even though they didn’t understand you a lot of the time, you were always made to feel welcome- with friendly pats on the back and the odd tissue thrown your way.
You bustled into the familiar building with a new sense of excitement as Sam had promised to bring a translator for you this week. It was finally time to say your thanks to some of the people there and finally let the group know about your brother, so that it wasn’t only you that remembered him.
You all but ran through the hallways until you caught sight of a familiar smiling man. Sam was facing you, talking animatedly to another man, the strangers back was to you. He was tall, broad shouldered and dressed in a vintage looking leather jacket and rather well fitted trousers. Now the debate was: does the tailoring make the ass, or does the ass make the tailoring. You were halfway through the arguments on either side when Sam shouting your name disrupted the intense debating in your mind. You blushed at being caught, then blushed some more when you caught sight of the stranger’s face. Twinkling blue eyes under a deep-set brow should have made him intimidating, but he was smiling, and his face was dazzling. There was an immediate fluttering in your stomach.
“Hey, I’m Bucky.” Dear lord even his voice was nice, what made you smile even more was the fact that he signed as he spoke. Well, Sam certainly knew how to pick them well. “Sam introduced me; said you wanted an interpreter.”
You nodded as you signed back, “Nice to meet you, thank you for helping out.”
“No problem, Sam has told me a bit about you.”
“Good things I hope.”
“Okay I recognise my own name, you two better not be conspiring against me.” Sam piped up, to be honest you had forgotten about him for a moment.
Bucky laughed, and it sent a little thrill down you, he really was adorable.
“No worries, Wilson, just letting them know all your dirty little secrets.”
“Right, you two get in there, before you make me sleep with one eye open.”
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You and Bucky caught each other’s eye, his eyes were twinkling with mischief, and you couldn’t help the smile that overtook you. You had a feeling that the two of you would get on just fine.
The meeting passed easily. Bucky translated your signs and you finally felt like you could actually take part in these meetings. Everyone listened intently when you spoke of your brother and when you had thanked the whole group for being so open to you a couple of people shed a tear. By the end of the meeting though you were tired and very accepting of Bucky’s offer to walk you home.
It was a lot of side glances and hidden smiles and you walked side by side. Drawn to each other under the moonlit sky, it was nice to just be in the presence of someone who had such a kind aura. You spent the walk trying to work up the confidence to sign something, anything but nothing came to mind and Bucky seemed quite content to just walk in comfortable silence.
You soon reached your home, you turned to Bucky with a smile on your face and signed,
“Thanks for today, Bucky. You were really helpful.”
“No problem.” He signed back,
You hesitated slightly before signing, “Would you be happy to have a coffee with me, tomorrow?”
Bucky went a little red in the face, and chuckled, “I would love to, I know a nice place, real cosy. I’ll text you the details.”
“You know how to text?”
“Hey! I get enough stick from Sam, don’t need you getting on my case too. I’ll have you know that I am very adaptable.”
“Sure, Sure.” You smiled at his flustered tone. “I’ll wait for your text then, have a good evening.”
“You too.”
The two of you stared slightly awkwardly at each other, neither wanting to be the first to turn around. You shuffled your feet away slowing, smiling awkwardly once more at Bucky before turning. You heard his footsteps start to fade away as you walked towards your home. You were but three steps to the door when a large figure in a hoodie slammed into you, you raised your arms instinctively to block them when you noticed your shoulder was lighter. The bastard had stolen your bag.
You immediately took chase, chasing around the corner you just walked down but they were fast, faster then you at least. As you rounded the corner you caught sight of Bucky walking ahead. The thief wouldn’t stand a change against him. Without a second thought you cast your thoughts towards Bucky,
“Bucky! Thief! My Bag! Behind you!”
You saw Bucky flinch slightly then turn bewildered, his eyes widening when he saw you hurting towards him, chasing the hooded figure. He caught on and launched after the thief as well, with barely any effort he knocked the thief to the ground, grabbed your bag and whipped out his phone to call the cops.
Well, that was hot.
You took your bag back, immediately checking that you brother’s lucky coin was in the zippy pocket, to your relief it was still there. You looked up to see Bucky staring at you with a very puzzled look on his face. You sighed before casting your thoughts to his head once more,
“I’ll explain later.”
Bucky let out a strange, decompressed noise of shock, it made you giggle. The two of you waited in silence until the police came and took the thief away. The police car had barely driven away when he turned to you.
“Did you just, talk in my head? Or did my conscious just suddenly get really loud.”
“I did. Hi. Sorry about that.”
He waved his hands dismissively. “Believe it or not, not the weirdest thing I’ve encountered.”
“Well, that’s reassuring.”
There was an awkward silence.
“So,” You started, resorting back to sign language, it felt less invasive, “Still down for coffee?”
Bucky smiled, “One hundred percent. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah. Bye Bucky. Thanks for getting my bag back.”
“No problem, see ya.”
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The coffee shop that Bucky invited you to, was tucked away, it was the kind of place that you would stumble over on accident. With a simple door and a big window out the front, that lead soft orange light filter out onto the alley. There was the faint sound of jazz leaking out of the building, you smirked. It was such an old fashioned place, of course this was where Bucky frequented.
The bell tinkled slightly as you entered the café, where you were greeted with the smell of fresh coffee and baked goods. You caught sight of Bucky’s broad shoulders sitting in the corner, and you made your way over to him, smiling at the barista as you passed.
As if sensing you, Bucky turned to smile and wave. He was dressed in casual clothes like last time, but this time his hair was loose around his shoulders. You smiled back before settling into the seat opposite him.
His hands moved hesitantly as he signed, “What would you like? I can recommend their hot chocolate, its very warming/”
“Hot chocolate it is.”
You could tell he wanted to ask you a million questions but to his credit he walked slowly to get the drinks, he even took his time carefully carrying the tray of drinks back to your table. He placed a delicious looking hot chocolate in front of you. You watched as he took a sip.
5, 4, 3, 2, 1-
“So,” Here we go, “What is it you can do, you can speak in peoples’ heads, can you,” He lowered his voice and leaned in, “Can you read people’s minds?”
You giggled slightly, his eyes were basically sparkling, he was definitely nerding out about this.
You set the hot chocolate down before casting your thoughts to his head, “I can speak in peoples heads relatively easily, it’s how I talk most of the time to people I know. I guess you could call it Telepathy.”
Bucky’s eyes were as wide as saucers, “So you can’t read thoughts, only… speak them?”
“I like to call it casting, makes me feel like a sorcerer. I can read thoughts, but it takes a lot of energy. I used to be able to talk with my brother from across the house. That usually requires some kind of connection.”
“Oh, so like a blood or family connection? Do you have to know the person very well?”
“That certainly helps but it’s not always necessary. If I have a personal object that belongs to that person, something I can hold and connect to them it isn’t hard to make a two-way connection. Especially if that person is willing to open their mind.”
Bucky seemed to be caught in thought for a second. “So, if I were to give you something of mine, we could both talk in our… heads?”
“Well yes, but Bucky we have only just met. Letting me into your head is a lot. I try not to pry but sometimes I’ve found that thoughts just burst through. Let’s get to know each other a before that happens.”
Bucky smiled at you before speaking and signing, “You’re right. Let’s get to know one another. I find you fascinating.”
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It happened on the fifth date. Bucky was just walking you home after a lovely dinner at a small Italian that he claimed he went to back in the 40s. Just outside your door, under the glow of a lamppost he turned to you and took a deep breath before speaking.
“I know this may be a lot, but I wanted to give you these.” He reached around his neck and pulled off something silver. You gasped slightly as he held out his dog tags, immaculately preserved after all these years.
“Are you sure, Bucky? This is a lot.”
“I know and if you aren’t comfortable with it then just let me know but I want to give them to you.”
“You know what this means Bucky?”
“Yeah, I know, I just figured that you’re already in my head all the time anyways, just can’t seem to get you out of it.”
“You cheeseball.” You smirked at him before taking the dog tags and placing them around your neck. You gripped the cold metal for a moment, concentrating on the man in front of you. Taking everything, you knew about him and stretching out a connection, like a hand reaching out to clasp another.
“Testing, Testing, Testing, one two, one two, can my Telepathic partner hear me?”
You laughed, “Yes I can Bucky, you big dork.”
Bucky whooped out loud before sweeping you up in a big hug. The two of you laughing under the lamp light. His joy was infectious, and you couldn’t fight the smile off your face.
“Oh, we are going to have so much fun messing with Sam.”
“You’re evil.”
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Of course, the two of you made a pact not to tell Sam until he worked it out, which wouldn’t be anytime soon according to Bucky. It led to some very memorable moments and Sam refusing to play any form of card or board game with either of you because you always managed to win, somehow. Not to mention all the times you had spoken in eery unison around him.
“I swear, its like you two can read each other’s minds sometimes.” Sam threw his hands up in frustration at another lost game of charades.
You smirked at Bucky across the room, “Should you tell him, or shall I?”
“I think he’s been through enough, I got it.”
Bucky cleared his throat, “We can.”
Sam whipped around to face Bucky, a look of sheer disbelief on his face, “Seriously Bucky-boy, if you think I believe that after all-
“Hello Sam.” You cast your thoughts to him, in the creepiest old lady voice you could muster.
Sam yelped, before turning accusingly at you, “You better be joking around with me right now, I am not dealing with any kind of ghosts in this house.”
“Sorry! Surprise I’m telepathic!”
“You’re serious.”
You nodded.
Sam put his head in his hands and sighed, “Not the weirdest thing ever. Wait, does this mean you have been cheating this entire time.”
You both looked guiltily at one another.
“You owe me. That poker night, void.”
You both laughed, “We’ll have a fair rematch this time Sam.”
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It had been close to a year since you had made it official with Bucky and you were now much more comfortable around one another. He no longer just dropped you off at the lamppost but cam inside with you. You had spent many lovely mornings together sharing glances over steaming cups of coffee. Fighting each other for who got to spread their legs out on the couch, there wasn’t really a loser though as it usually ended up in sofa cuddles for both of you, while watching a film.
Life was pretty great, you thought, as you smiled down at the sleeping Bucky beside you. Finally reaching over to turn off the lamp and put your book down, you were finally reading the hobbit at Bucky’s insistence. As you clicked off the light beside you and settled down you noticed the faster than usual breathing coming from beside you.
“Bucky?”
You reached out, thinking he was awake but instead as you opened up your connection you caught flashes of night terrors. You were falling indefinitely, snow all around you, and in the distance, there were cries of pain, people pleading for their lives, there was gunfire and explosions. You gasped and took off the dog tags. You only gave yourself a moment to breathe before trying to shake Bucky awake. When it became clear that he wasn’t stirring you steadied yourself and settled your hands on his temples. You didn’t care you tired this would make you, you just wanted Bucky to stop suffering. You focused, offering out that hand of connection again, this time picturing it in the shape of a fist and, although it wasn’t subtle, you tried to shake Bucky’s brain awake. You forced your way into his dreams, punching through the dark fog that clouded his thoughts and almost screamed at him.
“Bucky! Bucky wake up! You’re dreaming my dear!”
Bucky woke up with a start. Tears flowing down his face, he stared at you blue eyes shining. No one spoke as he pulled you into his arms. You just breathed together for a moment, counting the breaths and the spaces in between. When he finally pulled back, you saw his eyes flicker with concern before lifting a hand to gently wipe under your nose, it came back red with blood.
“You, okay?”
You smiled sadly, reaching out to put the dog tags back on.
“I should be asking you that.”
“But you’re bleeding.”
“Occupational hazard.” You tried to subtly get rid of any of the extra blood. “That was pretty intense. Wanna talk?”
Bucky looked down to the sheets and shook his head. You smiled at him, tilting his head to yours.
“That’s fine, want me to go? Or would you like to cuddle for a bit?”
Bucky didn’t talk again, just pulled you gently down to the bed once more. Snuggling himself under your chin, resting his head on your chest. You felt his arms draw tightly against your waist. You pressed your lips into his hair.
“May I help you go to sleep? Keep the bad thoughts at bay for at least one night.”
You felt Bucky nod and let out a little sleepy hum of agreement. You closed your eyes, focused on your connection setting up a golden wall against the dark fog at the corners of his mind and settled into a deep sleep.
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You woke to the smell of fresh coffee and the clinking of cups.
“Morning.” You opened your eyes at Bucky’s voice and took the offered cup greedily. Your mind still felt hazy from the energy you used last night.
You felt the bed dip beside you as Bucky sat and sipped at his cup as well, hair a bit of a mess from bed. He had evidently only just woken up as well.
He took a breath, “I had some pretty interesting dreams, sweetheart.”
You stiffened, “Good ones I hope.”
“Don’t worry, they were good. If a little strange.”
“Strange?”
“I was watching myself most of the time.”
You snorted into the coffee, “Sounds creepy”
There was a slight chuckle, “Nah, I was watching myself build a home, a family- “
“Oh God Bucky.�� You snapped your eyes to his, you knew what had happened. “I am so sorry my dreams must have stuck in your head.”
“Those were your dreams?”
“Yeah, its only happened once before but when the connection between two people is very strong, it can happen- I call it bleeding. Perhaps we should- “
“If the next words out of your mouth are take a break, I will spill your coffee.” You clutched your cup closer to your chest, “Truthfully, those were some of the beset dreams I have every had. I really loved them.”
You looked back up at him, hesitantly “You did?”
“And I love you.”
“Huh
There was silence as you stared at him in shock. His face as nothing but adoration as the sunlight filtered over his face.
“I love you, sweetheart.”
“I love you too.”
Coffee cups were cast aside as you both collided. Giggling and joking, radiating happiness as the two of you shared the sweetest kiss. Your feelings merging together, amplifying one another until they shone brighter than the sun.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x y/n#bucky fic#bucky fanfic#bucky imagine#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky fluff#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes angst#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x you#sebastian stan#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes x gender neutral reader
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Build-A-Bear
Part One
Featuring: Bucky x Stark!reader, dad!Tony, Peter Parker (platonic), background MCU characters
Warnings: [chapter] language; [series] language, smut, violence
Summary: The only people who knew she was actually a Stark were her dad, her step-mom Pepper, and her “uncles” Happy and Rhodey. A promotion within Stark Industries takes her from an already-sought after position in the Weapons Anaylsis Unit straight to the Avengers as a Weapons Enhancement Specialist... which means her dad is her new boss. There’s only one rule at work: no fraternizing with coworkers. There’s one more rule at home: no dating any Avengers. So what is she supposed to do when a grumpy super soldier becomes not-so-grumpy around her? At 25, do her dad’s rules still apply? Or is her entire livelihood at risk?
Author’s Note: I’ve written a decent portion of this but know I won’t keep writing it or post it unless I hold myself accountable and get it out there in the first place 🙈 I haven’t written much for Marvel yet but I’ve read plenty and have written for other fandoms in the past (not to mention the writing degree on my wall lol). I’ll try to post every 2-3 days to keep this moving! And if you like it and want to, buy me a coffee!
No one knew Tony Stark had a daughter. No one but Tony Stark and his daughter. Well, and her step-mom Pepper. And her godfather Rhodey. And her uncle-not-uncle Happy. But no one in their everyday lives knew. She was given her mother’s maiden name and kept a secret, even when she turned 17 and moved to a small apartment near NYU’s campus (with Happy stationed right next door, of course) to start life as a truly normal adult, or as close to normal as an undercover Stark could be. When she graduated with her PhDs in robotics and electrical engineering at 25 — proving brains really do run in the family — she moved into her own apartment in Manhattan, funded by her father under the pseudonym “Michael Myers.” Subtlety was never his strong suit.
Fortunately for you, growing up without the Stark name let you live a relatively normal life. It also allowed you to apply for a position within Stark Industries without being ushered past any red tape because of who your father is. Outside of the financial advantage you had, you worked for your spot in a STEM career. You suffered through every man in your field belittling your work despite knowing less than you. You dealt with the constant interruptions and “well, actually” because of your gender. You powered through late nights and early mornings when your mind was flowing too smoothly to quit.
The last thing you wanted to do was have all that work disregarded because you shared a name with genius billionaire playboy philanthropist Tony Stark. So you filled out the application, sent in your resume and cover letter, and attached three letters of recommendation from your professors. You went through hours of interviews, background checks (conveniently redacting your father’s name), and polygraph tests until that offer letter showed up in your email. You even had to sign the Non-Disclosure Agreements that would bar you from discussing *anything* work-related with anyone outside of your department.
You spent your first year in the weapons analysis department, evaluating alien weaponry and determining how it worked and how to disable it. You had your fair share of mishaps, of course. Holes blasted into walls, fried robot dummies, even burnt animal carcasses. By the end of your first year, your supervisor sent a commendation and proposal for you for an undisclosed promotion. After Pepper Potts “thoroughly examined your resume, cover letter, and accomplishments during your tenure with Stark Industries,” as the letter read, you were awarded a position working on the Avengers’ weapons as a Weapons Enhancement Specialist. You’d never see a fight in-person, but you were assigned to work on advancements and post-battle repairs for everyone, from the Winter Soldier’s arm to the Falcon’s wings to Vision’s... everything. The only heroes you wouldn’t work on were Iron Man and War Machine (those were your dad’s territory) and Spider-Man.
On your first day in your new position, the one and only Pepper Potts showed you to your new lab on the 47th floor. It took all your willpower to look your step-mother in the eye and say, “Wow, Miss Potts. This is amazing. It’s such an honor to meet you,” with a straight face to convince any passerby that you had no outside affiliation with her. Even if her eyes stayed steady on you, you could see her mentally rolling them.
Once you were alone behind the doors of the elevator, conversation changed course.
“You’re going to be sharing a lab with someone else,” Pepper said.
“Sweet. As long as they’re competent, that’s fine by me,” you shrugged. Part of earning your degrees was learning to share a workspace with others, even those who bumbled and fumbled with no idea what they were doing. You’d had more hair singed by nearby explosions than you’d like to admit.
“He’s still in college so he’s not here as often as the others. Most of his work will be on Spider-Man’s gadgets and suit, but you can use him for any help you need.”
Walking past the familiar faces of Dr. Banner and Dr. Cho in their respective labs, Pepper ushered you into your lab, where you were met by your father and put on the same excited facade you did with Pepper.
“Oh my god, you’re Tony Stark! This is incredible! It’s such an honor to meet you, sir!”
He shook his head at you and reluctantly accepted your outstretched hand. Oh, the jokes you’d be making at family dinners.
“Yeah, anyway, this is your new lab, Miss [Y/L/N]. Make yourself at home. This lab rat over here is mister Parker. If you have any questions, he can at least bullshit an answer for you.”
The young man on the other side of the lab perked up at the sound of his name. He tugged the goggles off his face and set down his soldering rod to rush over to you.
“Hi. Hi, I’m Peter,” he said, reaching his hand out to you.
“I’m [Y/N]. It’s nice to meet you, lab partner.”
He looked to be a bit younger than you and at least relatively smart, if the MIT sweatshirt peeking out from under his lab coat said anything. If your dad gave him an internship like this, you knew you shouldn’t question it. He had to be a genius.
The kid just smiled at you, continuing to shake your hand past what most would deem socially acceptable.
“Okay, enough of that,” Tony said, pushing on your joined hands to separate you two. “Mister Parker might be in and out of the lab from time to time. He joins the Avengers on the occasional recon mission for immediate repairs but since he’s on break from classes, you’ll see him more often than not. Play nice.”
When he noticed you surreptitiously looking Peter up and down, he added, “Remember, no fraternizing with coworkers.” He pointed a finger directly at you before he spun and pointed to your fellow lab mate, realizing he should warn Peter too to save face.
“All the blueprints you need for the Tin Man’s arm are in the system. We’ll have you start on that and see what you can do about minimizing the sound that thing makes. Any other questions, give Pep a call.”
“Thank you, mister Stark. I really do appreciate everything,” you said genuinely.
“Yeah, well… don’t let me down,” he replied, patting you on the shoulder on his way out. Pepper followed close behind, leaving you alone with Peter Parker.
“So Peter,” you started, sliding onto the lab chair next to where he remained standing, “tell me about yourself.”
“Uh… what do you want to know?” he asked as he shoved his hands into his coat pockets.
“How old are you?” you asked immediately.
“I’m 21.”
Only four years younger than you. So you’d probably get along just fine.
“I assume you’re at MIT?” He nodded. “What are you studying?”
“Biomolecular and mechanical engineering.” He said it so casually, you’d think he was talking about the last song he heard on the radio.
“Damn,” you responded, eyes wide. “I thought robotics and electrical engineering was wild but fuck, that sounds like hell.”
He laughed and nodded, letting a bit of the tension in his shoulders fall. “Yeah, it’s not easy. But it’s worth it.”
He shot you a small smile before gesturing back at his project. “I should probably get back to work and let you get started.”
For the rest of the day, you familiarized yourself with the Winter Soldier’s arm to figure out how to… turn the volume down? You assumed it was the gears inside causing the noise, but part of you wanted to outfit an audio jack and speaker just to fuck with your dad.
You and Peter worked in relative silence, aside from the playlist he had quietly playing through the lab sound system. When lunch rolled around, however, you finally spoke up.
“Hey Peter,” you called, his eyes flicking from the chemical beakers in front of him up to you. “First of all, what are you doing?”
“Um, it’s Spider-Man’s web fluid. Just trying to find more durable combinations.”
“Interesting.” As much as you wanted to touch the stringy substance, you knew better than to fiddle with someone else’s lab work. “Okay so second thing, in my last position, I’d just order food and have it brought to my floor but now that I’m on an exclusive floor, what do you do for lunch?”
“Oh, there are a couple security guys who have clearance to come into this floor. They just can’t get into any rooms so you’d have to meet them at the elevator. But I usually find something in the kitchen down the hall.”
“Oh, sweet. Thanks!” you said as you made your way out the door. Before you could fully exit, you turned back to see if Peter wanted you to grab anything. Once he promised he’d take his own break ‘once I get this one thing figured out,’ you continued to make your way to the kitchen.
As you drew closer to the doorway, you could hear three voices speaking over each other. They didn’t sound angry, but they were definitely arguing. You opened the door anyway and almost immediately froze in your tracks. The Falcon stood with one hand on his own head and one on the Winter Soldier’s head while Captain America rolled his eyes before those same eyes landed on you, along with the rest of the room.
“Perfect,” Sam started. “Hey new girl, between the three of us,” he said, pointing to himself, the Soldier, and the Captain, “who has the best hair?”
“First of all, my name is [Y/N]. Second,” you continued, making your way past them to the fridge you hoped your dad kept stocked with goodies, “that’s an unfair question.”
You grabbed a soda and popped it open before turning back to the three men. “Your hair suits each of you. Cap wouldn’t look good with Winter Soldier hair and Falcon wouldn’t look good with Cap’s hair.” You took a few steps closer, leaning against the island counter between you and eyeing each of them. Your eyes settled on the Winter Soldier, unashamedly flitting across his face and admiring the sharpness of his features. “You,” pointing at him, “could probably pull off either of their looks, though.”
Bucky smirked at you, but his rosy cheeks gave away a hint of embarrassment at your compliment. Steve and Sam, on the other hand, weren’t taking it quite as gracefully.
“What?!” Sam shouted. “Okay, now I know you’re lying. I could pull off Cap’s hair for sure.”
“You know, I think shaggy hair would really suit me,” Cap said, only half sarcastically.
You giggled to yourself as the three of them started talking over each other again, all dead set on their own hair being the best of them and positive they could pull off the others’ looks. While they bickered, you searched the pantry until you found a snack to at least get you through the remainder of the day.
“Alright boys, it’s been fun but I have work to do,” you said as you walked past them again. “Actually, wait. Bucky — can I call you Bucky?” He nodded even though you continued anyway. “If you could stop by lab six today, I’d love to check out your arm in person. The digital renderings aren’t quite the same.”
“Uh, okay. Sure. I’ll find you,” he said quietly.
“Sweet, thanks!” And with that, you skedaddled back to your lab.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x Stark!reader#Stark!reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes series#bucky x Stark!reader
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Night to Remember
Summary: Adrien wakes up to three videos from his soon-to-be wife, one for each day she'd been gone for her bachelorette party.
Hello and welcome! It’s been a hot second since I updated this series last, but I got here eventually! This time we’ve got a one shot on our hands and like usual, this story stands on its own pretty well. I’ll link to the other stories in case this one catches your attention
Enjoy!
Part 1: Five Times (and the Lucky One)
Part 2: Just Between Us
Part 3: Eating Habits
Part 4: Adrien Agreste and the Long Delayed Proposal
Read on Ao3
The soft rays of morning landed gently on Adrien’s face, the warm glow slowly rousing him from sleep. He rolled over, putting an arm over the opposite side of the bed to pull Marinette closer to him.
When his hand simply hit empty blankets and pillow, his face scrunched up in irritation. He propped himself up on his elbows and squinted, eyes yet to adjust to the light of dawn, at the space beside him. Just as he feared, it was empty.
Sluggishly, the gears in his head began to turn. Why wasn’t she here? Did she go to make breakfast? No, she’d never get up early by herself.
Was there an akuma? A cold spear of panic went through his heart before he remembered that Hawkmoth - his father - was in prison. It had been years since they’d had an akuma attack, but that didn’t mean he didn’t still sometimes wake up in a cold sweat.
Now that he was wide awake, Adrien started to remember. He and Marinette were getting married. It wouldn’t be too much longer before the big day finally came, which meant that he’d finally talked her into having her bachelorette party. Her plans were a quiet weekend out in Bordeaux. Just her, a few friends, and some wine in a rural village. He rolled out of bed and started to get dressed.
That had been a theme in most of the wedding planning - Adrien wanting to give her the world, and Marinette going instead for simple elegance. Well, she’d talked him down in most other parts of this wedding, but if there was one part before the honeymoon he intended to spoil her, then the bachelorette party was it.
Adrien grinned as he remembered slipping Alya his credit card with only one instruction - go all out. How she would pull it off would be a mystery, but if her grin was anything to go by, then Adrien knew he had nothing to worry about.
As he brushed his teeth, he pulled out his phone to check his email. There at the very top of the inbox were three messages, two from his bride to be and one from Alya. Marinette’s were dated Saturday morning and Sunday afternoon, with Alya’s from early this morning. He’d already seen the first two, but decided to watch them again to get the whole experience.
After finishing up in the bathroom, he started the first video.
------------
The video started, although Adrien only knew this because Marinette’s voice came through clear. The screen itself was completely black.
“Hey, sweetie! We just dropped our luggage off at the hotel and we’re heading to the winery right now!”
“Um, Marinette?” It took Adrien a moment to place Alix’s voice. He’d only seen her a couple times in the past year. “Your thumb is on the camera.”
“Wha- Oh!” The screen lit up, showing Marinette’s radiant smile and slightly flushed cheeks. Her hair had been tied back in a ponytail, with a pair of big, fashionable sunglasses resting just above her face. “Sorry about that, Adrien!”
Some giggling drew both his and Marinette’s attention to the others in the car. The camera shakily panned over to them.
“Say hi, girls!”
Alix, caught with one arm wrapped around the head rest, finger gunned at him. “Hi girls.”
“Hello Adrien!” Rose frantically waved and beamed at the camera. “I can’t wait to see you two walk down the aisle! Its going to be so romantic!” She wiggled in place, too full of excitement to stay still.
Finally the camera landed on Alya, who was driving.
“Hey, centerfold. Don’t worry, I’m taking care of M.” She glanced at the camera and winked. “We’ll have to talk to you later since we’re about there.”
The scene shook again as Marinette fumbled the camera. She managed to catch it and soon enough the camera was back on her face again.
“It’s been less than a day, but I’m missing you already!” The screen was engulfed by her lips when she gave it a quick kiss. “Bye!”
-------------------
Adrien smiled to himself and kissed the now black screen.
Friday night must have gone as Marinette had planned then, but from the looks of it, Alya definitely hadn’t forgotten his request. She was more devious than the rest of them, if only because she was much more patient. First she would lull Marinette into a false sense of security… and only then would she spring the trap.
Fully dressed and ready to meet the day, Adrien stretched out on the couch and opened the second video. This one was dated Sunday afternoon, the second day of their party. He sipped his coffee and pressed play.
------------------
“Heyyy, sweetheart,” Marinette began, the words just barely slurred. A faint, constant blush tinted her cheek a pleasant rosy color. It was a little hard to hear her over the song playing on the radio and, more importantly, Alix and Rose loudly singing off key to it behind Marinette.
Marinette either didn’t notice or was ignoring them, smiling into the camera all the while. “We just left the… winery. They had some great stuff there!” The view turned dark when she held something up a little too close to the camera. “I got a couple bottles to take home too!”
Someone said something, Adrien couldn’t hear what, and Marinette’s head whipped over to the side as she listened carefully. She nodded to herself before turning her attention back to the camera.
“Alya says hi! Oh, and we’re going a little off the schedule here… We heard about a town nearby. They’ve got a few bars and one has a live band! This is basically just a girls’ night out, so it won’t be too wild… Right?”
The last question was directed more toward the other occupants of the car than Adrien himself. As far as he could tell, she didn’t get an answer.
Marinette flashed him a sheepish smile and a slight shrug. “Well, anyway. I’ll send you another video when we get back to the hotel. Bye!”
------------------
Which just left the final video. The only one that he hadn’t watched through already. He’d been a little worried when Marinette hadn’t sent her video when she said she would, but he had bitten back that fear as best he could. After all, she always struggled with deadlines and who knew what they ended up doing that night.
Even so it was weird that Alya was the one to end it. What had kept Marinette from sending the video?
Only one way to find out - Adrien opened the message and played the recording.
---------------------
A wall of noise slammed into Adrien, which stunned him for a second before he could figure out what was going on. There was the babble of a drunk crowd that formed the undercurrent for the rock band playing on stage.
Adrien only had a second to wonder who was recording when he heard Alya’s voice close to the microphone.
“Watch this, blondie.”
It was at that moment that he found her - even between the low light and the jostle of the crowd, he could spot her anywhere. Then again, it wouldn’t be too hard to spot anyone if they were climbing up onto the stage with the band. Adrien watching with shock as she stepped up to the empty mic stand, swayed ever so slightly, and leaned in close.
“I’m getting MARRIED!”
The crowd went wild, applause and shouting drowning out the music for a moment.
“To the best man, the greatest partner in the whole world!”
Another round of cheers, combined with some ‘aw’s thrown in.
One of the band members stepped up and gently took the mic from her. Thankfully, he seemed more amused than angry - Adrien could just barely make out an amused smirk from his perspective.
“Then this one’s for you-”
“Marinette!” Alya shouted.
“-Marinette, and to your lucky man. Hit it, boys!”
Adrien wasn’t sure what the difference was between this song and the last, especially since he couldn’t hear it too well thanks to Alya being in the middle of a wild crowd, but Marinette definitely seemed to like it since she started dancing on the stage.
The scene went black for a second before turning back on to Alya’s grinning face. She gave him a thumbs up.
“Mission accomplished, centerfold!” She leaned in conspiratorially. “Better be careful when M gets home, though!”
She winked and the video ended.
-------------------------------
In the silence, the sound of the door opening immediately caught his attention. Before he could get up off the couch, Marinette stepped into the room. She glared daggers at him, but he relaxed when he saw the corners of her mouth twitch, as if she was fighting down a smile.
“So,” he said. “How was your quiet weekend out?”
Marinette sat down on him hard enough to knock some of the wind out of him. She crossed her arms and quirked an eyebrow at him.
“Did you know that Alya was the one who hired that band, or were you just bankrolling it?”
“Whaaat? I would never-” He put his hand on his chest in mock outrage. “I mean, what about the budget?!”
“You’re an awful liar, chaton. Three margaritas in and she spilled the beans. I may have been drunk too, but I don’t forget easily.” She tapped her chin and looked up at the ceiling in thought. “Hm... where will I have to pull the money from to balance it out… Maybe the cake?”
“Hey now, our guests have to have cake!”
“You’re right.” She crossed her arms. “The flowers then.”
“You booked Francois a month ago, my love. No way you’re going to be getting the deposit back on that one.”
“Good point.” Her eyes widened and she clapped her hands together. “Oh, I know! I haven’t gone lingerie shopping for the honeymoon yet!”
“...Wait, let’s not be hasty.”
“Well, it can’t be helped.” She sighed melodramatically and pulled out her phone. “I was going to go to this really upscale shop and spend quite a bit but since we blew so much of the budget, I'll just call Alya and cancel but- hey!"
Adrien had snatched her phone and turtled up as best he could. As they wrestled for it, they devolved into a mess of giggles. Somehow, they ended up on the floor, Adrien propped up on his elbows above her.
Marinette crossed her arms, her hair a halo behind her head. She shrugged and rolled her eyes with a smirk.
“I suppose I can let you spoil me just this once.” She tapped his nose. “But don’t get used to it.”
“We’ll see about that,” he replied with a kiss on her forehead.
#Miraculous Ladybug#Adrien Agreste#Marinette Dupain-Cheng#Adrienette#Alya Cesaire#The Lucky One series#Night to Remember#ml fanfiction#my writing
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Long Way Home | Bucky Barnes x Reader (Part 1)
MY MASTERLIST
Series Masterlist
Summary: As Dr. Barnes is about to begin his new job at Massachusetts General Hospital, he gets to work on a patient who was once involved in making medical history.
Word Count: 1870
Pairing: Doctor!Bucky Barnes x Doctor!Reader, Doctor!Steve Rogers x Platonic!Reader
Warnings: Heart Disease, Hospital, Surgery.
A/N: Give it up for another clusterfuck from yours truly. Thanks to my dearest @dramadreamer14 for the beta, as always. I DON’T DO TAGLISTS! Divider by @firefly-graphics <3
September 29, 2020 - Boston, Massachusetts
For as long as she could remember, Dr. Y/N Y/L/N had followed a strict morning routine. She began her day with a 5 am wake up call and a cold shower to get rid of the remaining slumber, followed by her usual forty minute drive to Massachusetts General Hospital while sipping on a freshly prepared green juice. She parked at the same corner spot in the employee parking lot, and entered through the sliding double doors that led her inside of the emergency room. She always made a beeline for the cafeteria to pick up two cups of decaf, and then headed over to greet the Chief of Surgery.
The moment she entered the Chief’s office, she was quick to realize that things had changed. What was once the office of Dr. Anthony Edward Stark now belonged to a Dr. Steven Grant Rogers. “Oh- shit. I totally forgot.” How could she forget that Tony was gone?
Change was the only thing in life that never changed. But Tony had been the one constant in her life. A part of her refused to accept that he was gone, even though she knew that it was his time to go. It’s what he had claimed, and that wasn’t even the worst part. The worst part was having to see Steve replace him. Not that he did not deserve the position or anything, but in her mind, no one could ever replace Tony Stark.
“Good morning to you too, Dr. Y/L/N.” Steve greeted the woman as he looked up from his emails, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he saw her enter his office with a sunken look on her face. “I’ve been expecting you.”
“I was only gone for two days, Steve.” She let out a sigh as she walked up to his desk. “I didn’t think you would already manage to redecorate.” Not that it mattered, as it was Steve’s office now. But it was safe to say that a part of Y/N refused to accept that Tony had retired, and that Steve was the new Chief of Surgery. She had to keep repeating it in her head, hoping that her fucked up heart could eventually come to accept it.
Steve was one of the few people at Massachusetts General Hospital who knew of Y/N’s relationship with Tony. She had been his patient long before she began working for him. Even after all those years, the two of them had shared a close bond. He knew that she might have a hard time adjusting to the fact that her beloved boss had left his post, only to be replaced so quickly.
“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Steve frowned as he closed his laptop, eyeing the extra cup of what he assumed what decaf that she had set on his desk. “I’m sure Tony misses you as much as you miss him.”
“No, he doesn’t.” She shook her head, laughing softly. “He’s probably glad that he’s finally gotten rid of me, if I’m being honest. He’s had to deal with me for thirty years.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Isn’t it?”
“Is that decaf for me?” Steve asked as he motioned towards the cup she was still holding.
With a pout on her lips, she gave him a nod. “If you don’t mind me bringing you one every morning. Tony and I always spend our mornings having decaf and bitching about you.”
“You and Tony bitch about me every morning?” He asked her, though he was not all that surprised by that revelation. “Did he really hate me that much?”
“If he hated you, he wouldn’t have asked you to be Chief when he was gone. He knows you’re a good surgeon, but he’s someone who doesn’t like to be challenged unless he’s going to win.” Y/N slid the cup of decaf towards him. “You were always giving him a run for his money, bud. He preferred to get it out of his chest before he starts his day.” She shrugged.
“Well, I’ll take the morning coffee. But as for the bitching, I’m sure our newest Chief of Cardio would be more than happy to join you in on that.” Steve remarked, cheekily.
Oh right, how could she forget about Tony’s other replacement? Steve was running the hospital, while some other doctor was coming in to run Tony’s department. Tony had even suggested that he would also be her doctor, but Y/N was going to be the judge of that. She may not have control over who would be her boss, but at least, she could have control over who got to be her doctor.
“Tony did say that he’s a friend of yours.” Y/N sipped her drink before looking up at Steve. “Do you think I should trust him with my life? You know, given that Tony’s the reason why I’m still alive.”
Steve knew why Y/N was apprehensive about having someone else take over as her doctor. If she was having a hard time accepting him as her boss, he could imagine how hard it would be to replace Tony as her doctor. While cardiothoracic surgery was not his specialty, he was well aware of Y/N’s condition, and the clinical trial that had saved her life. As a doctor, he could understand the patient’s concerns about transferring to another doctor, especially after thirty years of being treated by someone like Tony. But he had to reassure her, he would trust Bucky Barnes with his life.
“I would trust him with mine.” Steve admitted with a shrug. “You can call me biased, but Dr. Barnes is one of the most reputable heart surgeons in the country.”
“He’s not better than Tony.”
“No one can be better than Tony. But since he’s decided to put his scalpel down and focus on running his foundation from New York, you’re going to have to accept that I wouldn’t hire someone who did not live up to that standard.” He assured her.
“You hired him because he’s your best friend from college.” Y/N pointed out.
He knew that it was a call out, but he was simply going to ignore it. “I know you don’t like change, Y/N. But we want what’s best for you.”
“Well, I promised Tony that I would meet with him before I decided if I want him to be my doctor. Hopefully, he lives up to everything you’ve been saying about him.”
“Trust me… he’s the best there is, for the hospital and for you.”
If she only knew…
Bucky Barnes stared out of his window as his flight was taking off, the view of New York City slowly fading away as he was leaving behind his home of almost twenty-five years. He never would have thought that he would be leaving New York like this, but he knew that he needed the change. New York had been where he had met Steve, where he had gone to college and medical school, where he had established himself a career as one of the finest heart surgeons in the country.
As happy as he had been in New York, there was always something that seemed missing in the life that he’d had there. No matter how hard he worked or how much he had accomplished, none of those accomplishments seemed to live up to the expectation that he had for his career. It felt as though he hadn’t done the one thing that he was always meant to do, although he was unsure if he would ever be able to do just that.
The hour ticked by as he caught up on some emails, one of them from a certain Dr. Y/N Y/L/N from Mass Gen with the subject line as ‘Patient Consult Request’.
Dear Dr. Barnes,
I’m aware that you will be taking over the care of a number of Dr. Stark’s patients, and that you have already received their files to begin reviewing. Due to your expertise in the matter, I have an urgent request for an in-person consult with you for one of my own patients. I have attached the relevant medical information.
Please let me know when you would be free to meet after your arrival in Boston.
Sincerely,
Dr. Y/N Y/L/N
Bucky pulled up the attachment to see that this patient had been born with transposition of the great arteries, and had been operated on by Tony Stark at the age of five. He had performed an arterial switch using what would eventually become the world renown Stark procedure, which involved the switching of the pulmonary artery and the aorta to their normal positions and connecting them to the right ventricle and the left ventricle respectively.
For a moment, he wondered if this patient was indeed the one who Stark had written about in his 1993 article about the Stark procedure. Needless to say, Bucky had been fascinated by the accounts of Stark’s clinical trial during the 90s that paved the way for many cardiothoracic surgeons like him.
If this was the same patient, it meant that he would be working with a patient who was involved in making medical history. But as excited as he was about that, he began to worry once he read further into the file. He came across a series of test results that concluded that this patient was currently experiencing aortic valve regurgitation, followed by a note from Dr. Stark that said:
Patient refuses aortic valve replacement.
It was a simple aortic valve replacement, but the thought that the patient was refusing the surgery made Bucky wonder why that might be. Perhaps being operated on at the age of five and having to follow up for almost three decades now would do that to a person. He wouldn’t know, but he wasn’t going to judge the patient for refusing surgery. Needless to say, it was now his job to convince the patient to have surgery, as it was best to repair the aortic valve. Hopefully, he can do it without geeking out about Tony's article.
And so, he wrote up a quick email to schedule the consult for this patient.
Dear Dr. Y/L/N,
I’ve reviewed the case, and I agree that it is urgent. I will be arriving at the hospital within the next two hours, and would be happy to meet with you as soon as I get in. Please let me know if this works for you. If so, I will come to meet you.
James B. Barnes
It must have been a few seconds before he received a reply.
Dear James,
Thank you so much for getting back to me so quickly. I have no surgeries scheduled for this afternoon, so you can find me in my office. I look forward to meeting you.
Y/N
With that, he closed his laptop and looked down at his watch rather eagerly. Only a half hour left until he would touch down in Boston, and he could not wait to get to meet Y/N.
#aj writes#long way home#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes series#bucky barnes angst#doctor!Bucky#doctor!steve#doctor au
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Step-by-step guide on how to participate in the Bingo Fest: a manual for the uninitiated
As there may be people who have never participated in a fandom event like this before, we thought we’d provide you all with a step-by-step guide you can refer to throughout the fest in case you have difficulty figuring any of it out.
This post will walk you through how to sign up and participate in our current fest, but if you have any further doubts don’t hesitate to ask us :)
Step 1: sign up
The first thing you need to do to participate is to go to this google form to sign up. Signups will be open from June 25th to July 31st. All that we require is a way to contact you (like an email or your tumblr url) so we can send you your bingo card. Once you’ve done that, you’ll receive your card shortly and can start creating!
Step 2: the bingo card
Here is an example of what the bingo card will look like:
As you can see, the cards will be 5x5 with a total of 25 prompts. After you read all the prompts, consider which one(s) you’d like to use as inspiration. Some people start with whichever prompt inspires them, some try to find which line of prompts they like the best (remember you get bingo by completing a straight line of 5 prompts, horizontally, vertically or diagonally). Some even attempt to complete the entire bingo card!
Once you decide which prompt(s) you’ll use, get started on your writing and/or art! You can combine different prompts for one piece or make one fanwork for each. For example, you can use the prompts ‘family’ and ‘prequel’ in one work. Remember that for this fest we set a minimum word count of 500 words per prompt for written fanworks, so if you choose to combine prompts into one fic, the minimum word count adds up (if you choose to combine ‘prequel’ and ‘family’, that’s 2 prompts, so that fic should have at least 1000 words; if you choose to combine ‘prequel’, ‘family’ and ‘torchwood one’ into one fic, the word count should be at least 1500 words, and so on). There is no maximum word count.
Artists can combine as many prompts into one piece as they want, but the total number of individual art pieces we require for bingo is three fanworks (can be a mix of different types of art). Participants can also combine writing and art as their submissions to get bingo.
For fanvideos and video edits you need a minimum of 30 seconds per square to fill the prompt. Prompts can be combined, and there is no maximum length. For playlists and tracklists, you need at least 3 tracks per prompt, plus a few lines of text to tell the story you’re putting together. This explanation can be written however you want, it can read like a summary of the story, like not!fic, like a short drabble, or you can just say why you picked the songs (e.g. “I picked this song because this lyric fits how this character was feeling when X happened”, or “this song illustrates this character’s opinion about Y”). As usual, prompts can be combined, and there is no maximum length.
Let’s use the sample bingo card to give you some examples of what completing a line might look like.
Note: for the prompt squares that have more than one option separated by slashes (like “plants/vegetables”) you need to use only one of them, the slash stands for “or” in this case.
Example 1: vertical line bingo (writing)
Fic #1: bed sharing, 650 words
Fic #2: rarepair + meet the family, 1000 words
Fic #3: torchwood one, 1400 words
Fic #4: the hub goes on lockdown, 520 words
In this case, each fic reaches the minimum word count of 500 words per prompt, as you can see. This could also look like one fic of at least 2500 words which hits all the prompts. More on posting after a few more examples.
Example 2: diagonal line bingo (art)
Art piece #1: bed sharing, moodboard
Art piece #2: crossover+undercover, digital painting
Art piece #3: family, edit
Art piece #4: plants/vegetables, digital painting
This example has one piece that combines two prompts, and three pieces for single prompts. With a total of four pieces, this counts as bingo (minimum for art submissions is a total of three if all your fanworks are art).
Example 3: horizontal line (writing+art)
Fic #1: torchwood one+prequel, 1200 words
Fic #2: family, 2000 words
Art #1: dancing, traditional drawing
Art #2: andy davidson, 30-second video
This example combines different types of fanworks and clears all the requirements (at least 500 word count per prompt and more than three pieces total).
Sidenote: if you’re having trouble thinking of what to do with a prompt, a good way to come up with ideas is to crowdsource the brainstorming process! Post about it on your blog asking for suggestions, ask a friend, discuss it in groupchats with other fans, or send us an ask for some suggestions.
Remember, you don’t have to go with the most obvious interpretation of a prompt, trope subversion and creative interpretations are welcome here! You got ‘mpreg’ but don’t want to get into an mpreg story? Write about Jack mentioning how there’s a humanoid alien race where men are the ones who get pregnant! Or have him make a comment about a male friend of his from the 51st century who carried a child. Or have any male character have a dream about being pregnant, whether that’s possible for them or not (and this is Torchwood, so nothing is quite impossible). Take the prompt and twist it into something you like!
Step 3: posting your works!
Once you start completing some fanworks, you can post them at any point for the duration of the fest (June 25th to August 25th). While you do not have to post them as you make them and could wait until the last day, we do not recommend that as we foresee there will be more people finishing some works at the last minute and so it’ll be easier for your fanworks to get attention if you post them early.
The posting process is simple: you need to post your work on your own tumblr first. This post needs to have: 1) the fanwork or a link to the fanwork, and 2) any relevant content warnings (check our list of mandatory content warnings here). Please note that anything that requires a content warning (including sexually explicit content) should be under a cut.
For fic, we recommend that you share some information in order to give potential readers an idea of what it’s about (title, summary, rating, prompt, and you can add an author’s note or more details if you want), and if you post to ao3, you should add it to our ao3 collection! You can do this when you first post it (or go back to edit later) under ‘Associations> Post to Collections / Challenges’, where you simply have to type torchwoodbingo2021 and select our collection. Art and fanvids can also be posted to ao3 and added to the collection!
Step 4: submitting your work for us to reblog
After you post your fanwork to your tumblr, you need to copy the link of the post and submit it to this google form so we can reblog it. We will not reblog posts that don’t have the appropriate content warnings so please be sure to warn as needed.
Step 5: creating your masterpost (optional)
Once you’re done with the fest, whether you’ve managed to get bingo or not (or, if you’re very ambitious, if you’ve cleared the entire card), we would recommend that you make a masterpost with all the works you’ve made for this fest. This is not required, but it’s very satisfying and it’s a good way to look back on what you’ve accomplished and to promote your fanworks again :)
Like the examples above, the typical masterpost would have your bingo card (with the prompts you’ve used marked in some way) and a list of your fanworks with links to each of them and which prompt they fill.
You can submit this masterpost to the same google form as above and we will reblog it as well :)
And that’s it!
If you have any further questions, you can send them here and we will try to answer them as soon as possible.
We hope this post helps clear some doubts about how the fest works and that we get as many people involved as possible ^_^
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Forget me not
Aizawa-Sensei x Y/n-Sensei fic
TW: (eventually) violence, discussion of past death, just some bad feelings all around.
Part 5/??
You continued teaching Shinso privately for a few weeks, going between working on his quirk specifically, and some light training with the staff. One morning, you made your way over to the patch in the woods that you usually work at, but saw both Shinso and Aizawa there already.
“Umm, did I get the day wrong or something?” You asked.
“Oh shoot I forgot! I’m sorry. I had to move my time with Aizawa-Sensei because of a test and forgot when we usually work.”
“It’s okay. You continue with Aizawa and we can just reschedule.”
A deep gravelly voice spoke, “Y/n-Sensei, you can stay here I’ll just reschedule with Shinso.” ‘Is that what Aizawa sounds like in the morning?’ You thought.
“…couldn’t you guys both teach me…?”
“I guess, yeah.” You answered.
“We could…try and combine it?” Aizawa suggested.
“Like combine the staff and the cloth? That could be interesting….” You were intrigued. This could be a really good way of combating, and it’s so new that it would be hard for anyone, including villains, to evade. “Yeah let’s try it out.”
You gave Shinso his staff and he unwrapped his binding cloth. All three of you hypothesized different ways for it to be used. You could use the end of the staff to push the thick side of the cloth around with centripetal force or loop it around the end to toss it.
“Maybe we should improve on the staff…” you add. “We could put some sort of hook or edge on one side, and maybe a small rubber end for grip? I can talk to support about it if you guys are interested.” You walked closer to Aizawa and pointed out the places you could enhance.
“That’s….genius.” Aizawa was looking at you, mouth slightly open and smirking. He put his hands next to yours and you looked up at him shyly until you both realized why you were there.
You jumped at his hands grazing yours, “Uhm… yeah so I’ll go talk to support.”
“..ahh. Sounds good and I think we’re done for the day.” Aizawa said, much more lively than earlier that morning. He waited for you to make you way to the building so he didn’t have to awkwardly walk beside you.
—————-
A few weeks later and A day or so before you’re supposed to meet for lunch again, Aizawa emailed you.
“Y/n-Sensei,
I regretfully have to postpone our lunch for this week as I have a meeting that I am being forced to attend against my will, (god dammit, Hizashi)”
You chuckled. It’s ridiculous how much more respectable you’ve both been to each other lately. Toshinori was right. You texted Toshi that you’ve got to buy him a coffee later, and continued reading Aizawa’s email.
“I was hoping to offer you dinner in place of our usual visit. Please consider accompanying me on our regular lunch date of this coming Wednesday, at 7:00pm.
A.S.”
‘Good fucking god what is that supposed to be? Is he asking me out on a date?!’ You thought. Absolutely freaking out, you decided to find Toshinori and ask him what he thought about it. Maybe having a mans perspective would help? And it’s not like you could as Hizashi, he would blurt it to the whole school.
You walked to the teachers lounge in an attempt to find Toshinori as he usually spent most of his free time there rather than in his office. He probably liked having the company. You heard your heels click on the ground while you walk and you felt powerful, until you opened the lounge door and saw Aizawa sitting on the couch grading papers. You thought maybe he didn’t see you and you could sneak away, but he saw you. He hummed a bit signifying you being welcome to enter but you froze.
“Everything alright y/n?” Toshinori popped his head out of the book he was reading. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Ahh…umm..I’m uhh…” you stammered.
Aizawa looked at you with furrowed brows and a small smile on his face. It looked like he was trying to decipher whatever was happening with you.
“I’m alright!” You blurted and turned to walk out of the lounge. Toshinori looked back and forth between the door and Aizawa a few times.
“What was that about, do you think..?” He asked Aizawa.
Aizawa shrugged and went back to grading. Toshinori decided to follow you and ask what the trouble was. Aizawa was lucky you both left because he was desperately trying to not turn bright red. He was tapping his foot and chewing on his pen until Toshi left the room. Once he left, Aizawa sighed longingly and let himself blush.
Toshinori caught up to you in the hallway as you were walking back to your office.
“Y/n are you sure you’re alright?”
You couldn’t hold it in anymore. “IgotanemailfromAizawaandIthinkheaskdmeoutonadateandIhavenoideawhattothinksoIwenttofindyouandhewasinthereandI’mfreakingout!”
“Y/n you’re going to have to slow down.”
You shoved your phone with the email still up in his face.
“Oh wow…. This is…formal…” Toshinori breathed.
You buried your face in your hands as you turned bright red.
“This situation has changed a lot since the last time I spoke to you about him….” Toshi observed.
“Do you think it’s a date? Or do you think this is just him moving our appointment? We’ve been getting lunch every week to discuss Shinso’s progress.”
“Um….if this isn’t a date I need to reevaluate my life.” Toshi clapped his hand over his wide smile. “A.S.?” He laughed so hard he coughed up blood.
“Oh my god stop it Toshi.” You playfully smack his arm as he’s laughing. “You have to keep this a secret!”
Someone steps up to both of you, “Hmm?”
Aizawa stood there intimidatingly drinking the last of his coffee with an unamused face. You froze and Toshi leaned down to you to hand your phone back slowly.
“Well I’d better get going, nice to see you y/n. Aizawa.” Toshi ditched as fast as humanly possible leaving you holding your phone with Aizawa’s email up on it like the email itself would kill you. He slowly moved in toward you to take your phone and you shuddered. At the last second you tossed your phone to your other hand and straight armed his chest to keep him from taking it. His intimidating facade disappeared as he smirked with a spark in his eye. You laughed and tried to hold him back but he got through your defenses.
He reached out for your phone and you spun and ran down the hallway to your office. As soon as he realized where you were going he followed you, almost wiping out turning the corner. You stood in the middle of your office and attempted a stance to hold him back. Once he reached your office he slowed down dramatically, he moved in with a devilish smirk on his face and you started biting your lip.
He faked you out so he could get past you without hurting you and you ended up being pressed chest to chest with your arm out as far as possible, still clutching your phone. He looked down at you hungrily and your eyes widened. Instead of reaching for your phone, he raised his hands to hold your face in between them, pulled you close to him and kissed you hard. You gasped and melted into the kiss and put your hands on his chest.
Suddenly he pulled away grabbed your phone and jumped to the other side of the room. You were in a daze. He opened your phone to see his email to you on the screen.
“So this is your secret with Yagi? Me asking you on a date?” He asked.
“So it is a date!” You exclaimed and pointed at him. He lightly took your finger in his hand and held it.
“Of course it is, moron, what the hell else?” He rolled his eyes, still smiling.
“…I mean we were doing this to help Shinso.”
“Originally yeah, but we haven’t hardly talked about Shinso in weeks.” He explained.
You racked your brain to remember past conversations involving Shinso at lunch. You couldn’t remember the last time. Before you could speak again. He took your hand, which was still holding your pointer finger out, turned it and gave you a soft kiss on the top of your knuckles.
His sensual expression faded. “If you don’t want it to be a date it doesn’t have to be. We can go back to what we were like before…”
“I..uh….I..” you said totally dumb founded.
He placed your hand at your side, handed you your phone and said “consider it.” He walked out of your office with his hands in his pockets looking at the ground.
————————
You paced in your office for a while thinking of what to do. Did UA have a fraternizing policy? Was this all a joke? There’s no way he actually like you…right? How could he. He was incredible. One of the youngest to ever become a UA faculty member, he made accomplishment after accomplishment and you never measured up. Is there any way this could be real?
Despite this, you decided to email him back.
“Aizawa-Sensei,
I accept your invitation to postpone our upcoming meeting until that evening. I would like to accompany you to dinner, if you’ll still have me.”
You didn’t know what else to say do you sent it, and got almost an immediate reply.
“Y/n-Sensei,
Of course I’ll still have you. Always will.
A.S.
PS: I heard from support course and they have finished prototypes of the staffs you were working on. They’d like us to try them out tomorrow, if you’re available.”
Your heart stopped for a second. How was he this sweet? You knew the formality of everything was just him being a dork and flirting, but it still was really cute. And how adorable was he when he was trying to grab your phone, his lips pouted trying to reach past you…
You returned to reality. Maybe this is just a fling, a one time thing. Just something two adults do when they’re bored and nothing else. ‘There’s no way he would want to date you’ you thought. That would be irrational.
#aizawa fanfiction#aizawa x female reader#bnha aizawa#bnha#mha#aizawa slow burn#shouta aizawa#aizawa angst#aizawa fluff#aizawa smut
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Twelve Moons and a Fortnight wrap-up Q & A!
(brief note that this post does contain spoilers, so don’t click past the cut unless you’ve finished reading!)
__
1. Hi Stilton! I love you and TMAAF! The way you write the letters really feels organic and like people writing letters to other people in a time where communication wasn't instantaneous and thats a pet peeve I have with some fics that treat letters like text. I don't know if you've been asked this but what's your inspiration for the letters? Did you just make them up as they are? Did you look at old letters and studied the tone? @iwillbetrash4eva
I made the letters up as they are, but it was essential for me to keep in mind that the characters are all highly educated, and that Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian, and Nie Huaisang in particular are very accomplished in the arts. Letters written by someone who composes music and poetry in their spare time aren’t going to be the same as emails and text messages written for the sake of raw information transfer, so I made sure to incorporate that into the letters; they’re written on pretty paper, usually in the sender’s best calligraphy, and it takes time to sit down and write them, so there’s an aspect of aesthetic reflection there that we rarely notice in modern communication.
I also felt that the characters would include snapshots of their lives and feelings while writing; this was more important with Wei Wuxian, since he throws himself so deeply into his daily life, but I also had to remember how important the past is to all of the characters and how enmeshed it is with their relevant current events. Ultimately, each letter serves as an extra look into the characters’ state of mind, which is something the narrative might not give us.
2. What was your favorite scene in TMAAF, and which OC was the most fun to write? @keela1221
My favorite scene was Wei Wuxian’s departure from Lotus Pier in chapter 46, especially the part when everyone chased after him! I planned it several months in advance (sometime last summer, I think?) so finally getting to write it felt amazing.
Surprisingly, my favorite original characters to write (besides the main additions of Xiao-Yu, Yu Zhenhong, and Li Shuai) were the Jiang juniors. They love their Wei-zongzhu so much ;~;
3. What made you think of writing this fic? And would you consider a special epilogue because I don't think 50 chapters were nearly enough for me.❤ @avezevin
I think I just wanted to speculate about what cultivation politics might have been like after Jin Guangyao died, and TMAAF was born! And I most likely will be posting an epilogue, since I realized that the Zhenqing wedding works best as a coda instead of as a fic of its own.
4. what's your research process for tmaaf? the worldbuilding is so detailed!!
I read posts on tradition and culture and use them as sources if the chance ever comes along. A significant portion of the lore was entirely made up, but @light8828 helped me with some of the language, and offered so much guidance on cultivation worldbuilding <3
5. I really like the way you write the dynamic between Wei ying and lan zhan with their kids in all your stories. Xiao-Yu is a very lovable character and his relationship with his parents is something I go back to read many times. What do you use as inspiration when writing his, or any of his siblings, relationship with their parents?
Real life, I guess. Some of my older friends have recently had children, and they’re very good parents. :3
6. Where will you be going with the series? I need to prepare myself for heartbreak if the end is approaching, (its ok if you dont know tho! Idk is an optimistic answer, its just that you seem to have many things plotting away in that brain of yours)
Up next, I’m going to finish all the fics in the series that are still in progress, and then I’m going to write Lan Xichen’s fic, maybe a fic from Wen Qing’s point of view, a fic focusing on a reincarnated Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen, and a fic from Jin Yun’s POV focusing on his relationship with LXC and the latter’s death and ascension. This doesn’t count all the fluffy wangxian oneshots still bubbling on the back burner, so I expect this series to keep me busy well into 2022. *sweats*
7. TMAAF Q&A: when did you decide you were bringing wen qing back? what led you to making her return a result of the soul-summoning array, rather than having her have survived by some other method? @mischief7manager
I decided that Wen Qing would be returning sometime between chapters 12 and 15, since that was when I knew I wanted her to be the one to cure Wei Wuxian. And as much as I liked the idea of Wen Qing surviving, I didn’t want her to be imprisoned for the 16-year interim; it was important that she appear in TMAAF as she was before her death rather than having over a decade of character development off-screen. But she wasn’t a fierce corpse that could just be put to sleep for all that time, hence the soul-summoning.
8. For the Q&A: Stilton, how did you come up with such an adorable perfect little child like Xiao-Yu?? You write him so well it really does seem like it’s a child talking!! @whereisyourcahier
He’s partly based on a real baby I know. :P It might sound impossible, but he’s even cuter than Xiao-Yu is.
9. Thank you for doing this Q&A! Was Xiao Yu always part of the story? (Ilhim so much!!)
He was! I always wanted Wangxian to experience parenthood together, so Xiao-Yu’s entry was planned long before he actually appeared in the fic.
10. how did you deal with any writers block that came up?
By reading comments!! I have all of you to thank for that <3<3!!!!!!
11. What was the process for plotting each arc of tmaaf? & when did you decide on what the storyline was going to be? Did you know when you started or did you incorporate stuff as you wrote?
I hashed out the whole plot at once sometime last May, and that was when I laid down the rough storyline. The overall plot was finalized by the time chapter 18 went up, though I did add further details as I went along. In particular, the mini-arc of Wei Wuxian investigating the Yangshuo plague was mostly written on the fly.
12. how long have you been planning the wen qing lang xiyan reveal? has it been something set in stone from the start?
I’ve been planning it since last April, though the exact circumstances weren’t clear until around August or September. Originally, Jiang Cheng was going to ask “Lang Xiyan” to marry him after her mourning period was over, only for her to reveal herself as Wen Qing before accepting, but I soon realized that this wouldn’t fit either of their characters. Wen Ning recognizing her was the only way the reveal made sense (both emotionally and logically) so I had to find a reason to bring him to Yunmeng at exactly the right time.
13. I just want to ask two little things (well three). Where we will be able to read the wedding of baby Zizhen and A-Qing? Will there be Chengqing? And with the last question, if it's yes, will you write a one shot, drabble or something like that?? 🥺🥺🥺
I’m going to post a 51st chapter to TMAAF with the Zhenqing wedding as an epilogue, and Jiang Cheng and Wen Qing are married by then! Wen Qing will most likely be getting a fic of her own, focusing on the time between her revival and her engagement to Jiang Cheng.
14. I just finished reading your fic and let me tell you it's one of the best I have ever had the pleasure to read :) For someone who wants to start writing, how did you start the story? Did you wrote everything with a little scheme or you just leave your brain to work in the document?
I wasn’t planning to write fic for MDZS/CQL at all, and then I randomly ended up outlining, drafting, and posting the first chapter of TMAAF within the span of around two hours. When starting a story, I think it works best for me to just let my brain work in the document without worrying too much about how it might turn out--outlines and schemes tend to come later, after I’ve gotten a feel for how the characters act and laid down some dead-basic worldbuilding.
If you’re just starting out, make sure you’re having fun and that everything you write is as self-indulgent as possible! Enjoying the process is the most important thing, worrying about all the specifics can come later. <3
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Choreograph
New Story! FFN and AO3
Lily does not dance. She has no desire to be on national television. But when she's surprisingly selected as a contestant for Dancing With the Stars and she finds out how much money there is to fund her research on carbon capture, she becomes a reluctant contestant for the latest season. She just didn't count on being placed with the favorite dancer to win this year, James Potter.
This little story is for the wonderful @constancezin! (And if you go to her Tumblr you can see some amazing Harry Potter artwork!) She brought up the idea of a Dancing With the Stars (American) Jily AU and I volunteered to write a version of it for her. Thank you for sharing your ideas, @constancezin! I hope you love this little story!
Choreograph
"No, Mary," Lily shook her head and made another note in her notebook.
"Lily, you didn't even think about it!" Mary pouted.
"I didn't need to, Mary."
"But Lily," Mary whined.
"No, Mary." Lily closed the window in her computer and stood up. "I've never even been able to sit through an entire episode. I won't do it."
"Lily, think of the kind of publicity this would give you, and the companies that are looking to fund your research, and the public that would hail you!" Mary blocked the way out of her office.
"Mary," Lily sighed. "I don't dance."
"None of the contestants do," Marry shook her head. "That's the whole point! You get partnered with an accomplished ballroom performer, and they teach you how to do each week's dance, you perform it on national television, and the judges give you scores, but the viewing public keep you on the show by voting for you!"
Mary's explanation had grown progressively more and more animated as she went on. But Lily was not having it.
"Mary, no, I don't dance, I certainly don't dance in public, and I'd honestly rather have a go with a giant squid than dance on national television with some man that's more concerned with what his hair looks like than I am about mine."
"Lily, wait!" Mary cried as Lily pushed past her.
Lily turned in a huff. "What?"
"If you sign on and agree to perform for the first two weeks it's 125 thousand dollars."
Lily gawked.
"And," Mary smiled seeing that the money had caught Lily's attention, "you get more money for every week you stay on the show. The winner ends up with like 300 thousand dollars. Lily, just the 125 thousand would pay for the next iteration of the project. Imagine if you made it further? Think of what we could accomplish with the grand prize!"
Lily bit her lip, all of her resolve that she was not going to do this silly television show cracking.
"How did they even get my name, Mary?"
"I don't know but they contacted the company this morning and they want your answer by tomorrow."
Lily sighed and leaned against the wall. "Mary…"
"Lily, come on, the benefits are huge, think of everything we'd be able to do and how it could change our work on carbon capture!"
"You're sure I only need to stay on for the first two weeks to get the 125 thousand?"
"Yes, that's what they said."
"I can't believe I'm doing this," Lily shook her head.
But really, she could. In exchange for two weeks of humiliation, she would get more money to put towards her research than two weeks' worth of grant filing would give her - it even came with equal levels of frustration.
"Oh my gosh! Are you going to do it?"
Lily rolled her eyes but nodded. "Yes, Mary, I'm probably going insane but you're right, the money is too much to walk away from."
Mary screamed and threw her arms around Lily. "This is going to be amazing! Oh, I hope you get James Potter or Sirius Black, they're so good! And really hot too! I wonder if we can put in a request for your first pick. Or at least tell them not to pair you with Albus Dumbledore, he and his partner are always one of the first voted off."
"Then let's hope I end up with him," Lily moved back towards her office. "Do you have the number I'm supposed to call?"
"Right here," Mary texted the number to her and Lily sat down before hitting dial.
Mary had raved about how great it was that she was doing the show, and kept going on about how amazing it would be for Lily to be paired with James Potter, who'd finished top five the last three years he'd been on the show, or Sirius Black, who'd won last season. Lily adamantly refused Mary's plea to spend an evening watching complications of greatest moments of James Potter and Sirius Black on YouTube.
A few days after she called and confirmed, Lily received a time and place to be at for paper signing and the promise of finding out who her partner was. Lily didn't care for the time out of her workday it would require, but she reminded herself this was the same sort of sacrifice of time that she would have to make applying for grants, but this came with a guarantee of funds whereas the grants were always anyone's guess as to whether or not the group would get the money. Besides, this money could be what gave her the breakthrough to a patented, marketable item in order to fund her bigger research ideas.
And the next day, Lily walked in the door of the office. But of course, the receptionist wasn't there to tell her what to do next. She let out an audible groan.
"Everything alright?"
The man addressing her was tall, with dark hair that was messy and stood on end. His square rimmed glasses framed warm hazel eyes that reminded her of her dad's favorite imported maple syrup; her mom always bought it for him for Christmas every year without fail.
James Potter looked good on camera, but he was blinding in person.
"Oh, yes, just, um, I'm not sure what to do next."
"I'm happy to point you where you need to be," he held out his hand, "I'm James by the way."
"It's nice to meet you," Lily took his hand and gave herself a firm mental shake to stop ogling him. "I'm the contestant that's going home the moment I have to rely on votes to stay in."
James laughed. "Is that so?"
"I'm no one special, there's no fan base to keep me on the show." Lily shrugged and tried to push down the part of her that suddenly wanted James Potter to be her assigned dance partner.
"No fan base, huh?"
"Just my best friend, no one else is around to vote for me." Lily looked down at her phone and looked back around for the receptionist.
"I can show you where to go to get your paperwork signed and completed?"
She looked back up at him to see his hand shoved in his hair.
"Oh, yes, thank you," Lily nodded, feeling incredibly awkward at how scattered she must seem.
James grinned and started moving down one of the hallways. "So, what is your claim to have been invited to be a contestant on the show?"
Lily scoffed. "I have no idea. I'm a scientist, and I had a breakthrough on carbon capture last year that managed to make a brief mention on the four o'clock local news broadcast and most of the science journals. I've not done anything the general viewership is going to care about."
"Really? What's your name? If you don't mind my asking."
"Lily Evans," she smirked at him. "See you've never heard of me."
James looked sheepish, "Well, no, I haven't, but I mean the most important people are usually people that have no media presence in my opinion."
Lily laughed, "That's nice of you to say."
"So, you just really wanted to learn how to dance?" He leaned up against an open door jam.
Lily gave a nervous laugh. "Just hope you don't get paired with me. I don't dance, and I'm really only in this because the money from the first two weeks might be able to get me to a point where I can fund the research I want to do."
"A famous innovator like yourself needs the money?" James laughed at her. "You mean the grants aren't just spilling in?"
Lily scoffed, "Yeah I'm rolling in the dough right now. The Bentley out front is mine."
"Which one?"
Lily laughed, "The white '95 Corolla."
"Ah, a great year for Bentley Corollas," James laughed with her. The conversation went silent in an almost awkward way. James took a deep breath and gestured to the room they were standing outside of. "So, um, this is it. I guess I'll see you around then."
"Yeah, thank you, and good luck this season. I'm sure you'll do great."
"You too," his hand jumped back to his hair.
Lily nodded and stood awkwardly at the door a moment before remembering how to human.
"Well, I'll see you around."
"Yeah," James pushed off the wall, "See you."
Lily ducked into the office and was able to get her contract signed and all the particulars determined.
At the end of it all, the man that had been helping her clicked a few things on his computer.
"Alright, I've just sent the email with all your instructions and your partner for the show. You get eight tickets per show-"
"I'll only need one," Lily interrupted him as she opened the email on her phone.
"Boyfriend?" He smiled at her.
Lily's eyes went wide as she looked at the name of her partner.
"Um, no, but this says my partner is James Potter."
"Yep, producers assigned you two together on Monday."
"I, um, is that a good idea. I mean you saw all my paperwork; I'm probably going to be the first one voted off, and James is one of your best."
"I'm sure it will be fine, but if you'd like you can talk to the producers about it." He handed her a business card. "Here's all of Marlene's information, and I'm sure she can help you feel better about it. I wouldn't worry, though. James is good at what he does and that's what will really get you to through the show."
"Thanks," Lily nodded and moved to the door, already dialing Marlene's number.
"This is Marlene," she answered as Lily climbed in her car.
"Hi Marlene, this is Lily Evans, I'm one of your contestants this season."
"Yes, Lily! I just got the scan of all your paperwork. We're excited to have you. What can I do for you?"
"I know this is probably going to sound silly, but I need you to resign me. I know James is one of the favorites to win this year, and I have absolutely no coordination. I don't want to be the reason he doesn't make it to the top five. I'm sure you've got an athlete or something that can switch with me."
Marlene laughed. "Lily, I'm sure James would appreciate the sentiment, but we put a lot of thought into this and tried to make it fair for everyone. Besides, if you know then James just got his email. Don't worry, James is a good teacher and he'll make sure you can do your best out there."
"Marlene, really," Lily gripped her phone a little tighter, "I once had to perform in front of a middle school crowd and completely forgot the words to the song I'd signed on to sing. There's a real possibility that I'll get up there for the first dance and freeze and get sent home the first week."
"That's really sweet of you to be so concerned, Lily, but don't forget that it's the votes that keep you in, not necessarily your skill as a dancer or your points from the judges."
"And I'm a nobody scientist that has a fan base of zero."
Marlene laughed, "Just trust us. We've been doing this for years now. Stranger people than you have advanced to the top five."
Lily huffed, "Well, I guess I'll tell James I tried."
"Don't worry about James," Marlene dismissed. "He'll be just fine."
Lily tried to believe those words on the day she drove to the gym or whatever you'd call a building with rooms for them to practice in. These were the things that made Lily feel like she couldn't do this.
The camera crew was waiting for her and went through a whole bunch of things that Lily fully planned on ignoring before letting her finally go inside to meet James.
She opened the door and tried to smile. Then her eyes landed on James and she felt a little less nervous. The smile he directed her way made her heart stutter.
"No way!" He looked at the camera on him. "This woman's going to save the planet!"
Lily gave a nervous chuckle as she walked up to shake his hand. "I don't know about saving the planet."
James moved her proffered handshake into a dance position, bringing his hand to her back and spinning her around.
"The great Lily Evans is brilliant and humble, ladies and gentlemen."
Lily pulled out of his embrace and fidgeted with her hair.
"Well, I'm sure there will be plenty of time for you to reform that opinion. But I'm looking forward to working with you, James. I hope I can live up to your previous seasons. I'm sorry to say I'm a very inexperienced dancer."
"You never had me for a teacher." James waved off her concerns. "You'll see, we'll have you dancing like you've been doing it all your life in no time."
"Cut!"
Lily jumped. She had forgotten about the crew around them.
"Great work you two, we'll be back to film you again on Friday."
"Sounds good, see you then." James saluted as the crew cleared up and moved out of the dance studio.
"So, are you disappointed to not be assigned to me?" James chuckled once the door had been closed for a moment.
Lily bit her lip, "I would think you would be upset more than me. I even asked one of the producers to switch me to someone else so you could have a chance at winning this season."
"Yeah, Marlene told me about it." James chuckled. "But I'm the dancer, so let me worry about the dancing and you worry about climate science."
"I'm really not going to save the world," Lily sat down on one of the chairs against the wall. "I might ask the producers to cut that out."
"You can ask, but since we only did one take, they would need to have us film that whole first meeting over again. Don't worry about it. All it does is create interest in you which could gain us more votes."
Lily wanted to protest, but James put his hands on her shoulders and pulled back on them.
"What?"
"We have to fix your posture. I need you to be able to stand up straight all the time so we can get you into practice."
Lily frowned at it as she tried to sit up straighter.
"Here," James pulled her to stand up "Like this."
His hands pulled her shoulders back, but then smoothed down her spine, almost caressingly, to her hips where he brought them inline. Lily felt her mouth go dry.
"I bet all your past partners called you an awful taskmaster." She tried for humor to distance herself from the way her heart was pounding in her ears.
"My experience says that by the end of today you're going to call me all sorts of unpleasant names for what we're going to do."
Lily forced a laugh and suggested they get on with it. Their first dance was the foxtrot which seemed like a nice way to ease into this experience. But despite Lily's hopes, by the time seven o'clock rolled around she was sure she'd never make it through the next week of practices.
"You can go ahead and call me whatever you want," James sat down next to her as she collapsed in her chair.
"No," she panted, "I mean, I signed on for this, right? I can only be upset with myself. I'm just sorry I'm so bad at it."
"You're not bad at it," James shook his head and sat down next to her.
"James, there are mirrors on every wall, and I have eyes. I'm not good at this."
"You're too wrapped up in believing you're bad at this. Look, if I told you that there was no hope for climate science to make any real difference so why try, would you bite my head off?"
Lily laughed, "Yes, I probably wouldn't try to eat you, but I'd say you were wrong."
James looked dubious but continued. "Alright, I'm the dance expert in this room, and I say that you're not bad at this. You have a ton of the routine memorized now as far as where we're moving around the room on the floor and that's huge." He bumped her shoulder with his own. "Now say it with me, 'I can dance'."
Lily shook her head but chuckled, "I can dance."
"No one would believe that," James laughed. "Come on, again, like you mean it now."
Lily took a deep breath, "I can dance."
"Is that all you've got, Evans?" James goaded her.
"I CAN DANCE!" She yelled at him and laughed when he jumped up from his seat.
"Then dance, Lily!" He held out his hand to her and Lily pushed up to step into their routine again, James counting the steps as he led her around and around the room, her feet only stepping on his every third step this time, rather than every step they took together.
The days leading up to their first performance seemed to go both in slow motion and warp speed simultaneously. But soon it was Sunday and she and James were running through the routine for the last time before they'd do the dress rehearsal the next day.
"I'm still not getting it, James." Lily sat down on the floor and hung her head as she rested her arms on her legs.
"You're doing just fine," he sat down next to her.
"Don't lie to me."
James was silent for a long moment before he held out his hand to her.
"We're a team, Evans, and I would never lie to a teammate. Come on, let's try it again."
Lily sighed before taking his hand and letting him pull her up from the floor to run through the routine again.
She wished all of these hours she was putting in were paying off, but all it seemed to do was make her exhausted. She was in the office from seven till nearly eleven, then she would eat something while she drove to the dance studio and dance with James until seven or eight, and then drive home, sometimes to remember to eat something, before finally passing out cold until her alarm went off to start it all over again.
Dress rehearsal Monday morning seemed to only cement in her brain how much she didn't belong in this world. All the other contestants were so much more coordinated than her, and they seemed to be more at ease in the environment than she was.
Lily's nerves were overpowering and she botched their first run through. She couldn't manage to keep her dress from getting caught around her legs and her feet kept misstepping and James kept rubbing the part of her back that he used to signal her she was slouching. It was a disaster.
"James," one of the dancers approached them as Lily tried to get through the steps again.
James let her hand drop and stepped away. "Just sec, let me see what Sirius needs."
Lily turned and watched the two men talk quietly. James' hand pushed into his hair as he talked but he didn't look her way. She felt horrible about it all. James wasn't going to make it past the first elimination because he'd ended up with her and she was only doing these two weeks for the money. She had been assuaging her pride with the assurance that she just needed the 125 thousand dollars and then she could go back to her work and not worry about dancing ever again. But seeing how hard James was trying, and how patient and supportive he was with her as she floundered through the steps and routine, she didn't think she could walk away and leave him without a second thought. She cared too much to do that now.
As a friend, of course, she reminded herself.
James gave Sirius an attempt at a smile before moving back to Lily.
"Let's try it again," Lily squared her shoulders and smiled. "I think I can do it."
"Alright," James' smile didn't reach his eyes, but he stepped up to her and pulled her hand into his.
It wasn't perfect by any stretch but Lily could feel it was better, surer maybe. And she could tell that James felt it too as the weariness on his face slowly faded.
"You're getting it!" He laughed as they finished the routine. "See! You can dance!"
Lily grinned as she tried to catch her breath. "I just need to improve ten times more before tonight."
"We'll be fine," he nodded as the stagehand told them their time was up. "Let's see if they can pull up the hem of your dress another two or three inches and take out one of the panels before tonight. I think that will make a huge difference for you." He took her hand and Lily felt her breath catch at the feeling of his hand holding hers. "That was what Sirius pulled me aside for. He saw that the dress was too long and too full."
"That was nice of him," Lily tried to convince herself that the catch in her breath was just her being out of breath from the dance.
"Sirius is a good guy; we've been looking out for each other for a long time now." James grinned over at him as Sirius talked with Marlene.
He let go of her hand then and Lily tried to convince herself that the falling feeling she had when he released her hand was completely due to her exhaustion and had nothing to do with her wanting him to keep holding her hand.
James talked to the costume coordinator and Lily stood still as they went over the skirt of her dress until James felt sure it would be perfect for that evening's opening night, and the costume coordinator sent them to get out of their performance clothes. Then she was whisked away by the television crew to have her hair and makeup done with the other stars and dancers. In a whirlwind, it was suddenly their turn to dance.
Before the music started for their live performance, the stage lights were dim; a ticking sound started to give the countdown to start. Lily thought it sounded a lot like a time bomb.
"We've got this," James whispered.
And then the lights flashed on and the music started and Lily threw herself into the routine she'd been trying desperately to learn. There were a few stumbles, but James caught her through all of them, and in what felt both like an eternity and the blink of an eye, the music ended and people were applauding. Lily turned to the audience and found Mary jumping up and down and screaming through the noise. She waved as James pulled her over to the part of this competition Lily was dreading most of all, the judging.
They had, of course, seen her stumbles, but they were impressed with other things, McGonagall mentioned her excellent posture twice. Flitwick wasn't pleased with how they'd kept more or less to the steps with a couple of spins. But Slughorn kept telling them how wonderful it was that she had managed to learn the steps so well in such a short time.
"You're a natural!" He'd beamed at her.
James kept his arm around her middle as the judges gave their final scores, a five from both McGonagall and Slughorn, and a four from Flitwick.
"You were amazing," James spoke next to her ear as they moved backstage.
"Those scores say differently," Lily swallowed the lump in her throat.
"Hey," James pulled her to a far corner. "Those are good scores for week one. And no one is going home this week. You did an amazing job, believe me."
Lily nodded and tried to swallow again, "Ok."
She didn't particularly believe him, but she wasn't going to argue with him when there were cameras everywhere that could paint it as something awful.
They ended up finishing in the bottom five that night. And while Mary wanted to come over and stay up late talking about everything that had happened, Lily told her it would have to wait. She still needed to be at her desk by six the next morning.
When she managed to make it to the studio the next morning, James was already set to go.
"We've got the cha-cha this week." He motioned for her to come stand next to him. "We'll start just like we did with the foxtrot. I'll show you how to do the steps on your own and then we'll move to doing them together."
His smile was encouraging, and though the morning had already been full of work, Lily wanted to smile back at him. She wanted to be here with him. She didn't want to let James down.
Because they were friends, of course.
"Let's do this."
"Great," James reached into his bag and pulled out a Jenga set. "We start with this."
"With a game?" Lily watched perplexed as James set up the Jenga tower on one of the chairs, gesturing for her to sit opposite him and the game.
"There's a lot to be learned from Jenga."
"About dancing?"
"There's a dancing metaphor in almost anything, Evans. Now," he gestured to the tower, "Ladies first."
Lily pulled an easy block from the tower.
"That's a lame move," James smirked at her before pulling a block out that nearly toppled the tower down.
*I don't like to take enormous risks," Lily stuck her tongue out at him and found another easy block.
"That doesn't sound true at all. If it were, I don't think you would have agreed to this whole stunt."
"I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but I only agreed to it because of the money."
James pulled a difficult block and half-heartedly tossed it at her. "And what is all this money going towards?"
Lily smiled; it was easy to talk about work. "I want to make carbon capture something that can be done in anyone's backyard. Think about it, what if every home in every suburb had a carbon capture system set up, but cheaper and easier than solar. If I can make this work, this could buy us more than just a few years, it could be buying us decades of time to find better ways of creating power than burning coal."
James stared at her silently, his eyes intense and dark as he looked directly into her own eyes.
"Sorry, I guess that was a little much." Lily pulled another easy block from the tower.
"No," James' smirk finally found its way back to his face, but he continued to stare at her. "No, I personally think it was inspiring."
Lily pulled another easy block to avoid his stare and then held her breath as James pulled one that nearly toppled the whole tower over.
"James," Lily kept her gaze on the game as she spoke, "Can you honestly tell me that I'm a good dancer?" She knew it was a silly question to ask, but if she was a good dancer, then why not be dancing right now instead of playing Jenga?
"Yes," he answered immediately, but Lily scoffed.
"Lily, listen, for having never danced in your life, you're doing really well! Don't try to compare yourself to Julianne Hough. We have a real chance here, and I've done this long enough to know."
Lily wanted to believe him, but she didn't, and it must have shown on her face.
"Lily, what if you believed me? What if you were to take the risk?" He pointed to a block in the Jenga tower that was wedged tightly between the surrounding blocks. "Take a risk, pull this block here."
"That could make the whole tower fall," Lily objected.
"But it might not, it might give you the advantage in the game. Just try, and accept that the tower is going to wobble a little bit; if it falls, we'll rebuild it again."
Lily eyed the block before cautiously pulling on it. The tower wobbled dangerously.
"It's going to fall," she pulled her hand back.
"Then let it fall," James shrugged.
"And if it does, I'll lose the game!"
"No," James grinned at her, "We're a team, remember, we win and lose together."
"Fine, then we lose the game if I make the tower fall."
"Not if we build the tower up again." He leaned forward. "Change your perspective, Evans. There's no losing, just new starting points. Now, pull that block out."
Lily looked into his warm hazel eyes and something about how he was looking at her made her feel like she could try.
"Fine, but don't get upset if I make this whole tower come crashing down around us."
James just laughed and nodded her on.
Lily pulled carefully on the block, drawing in a sharp breath when it started to pull the tower with it. But as she turned the block around and moved it small bits at a time, the block slowly pulled free of the tower.
"I did it!" She held the block above her head like a trophy and James' smile was so proud that Lily felt certain that she could look at that smile forever and never tire of it.
"You did it!" He cheered. Then he stood and held out his hand. "Now take a chance, and let's teach you how to cha-cha-cha."
Lily laughed and took his hand. By the end of the day, she felt like she had a better grip on not just the cha-cha, but dancing as well. A week in and her body already was in better shape and she wasn't as exhausted when she finally made it home that evening. The routine ended up much like their foxtrot, with little flair but with Lily's ability to do the steps well being their focus. She was also grateful that no one put her in something that looked more like a swimsuit than a costume for the cha-cha. She already had to pointedly ignore the quiet part of her mind that would react to James holding her as close as he had to for the dance, she didn't need to also be half-naked. Lily needed every barrier between her and James she could procure.
Their scores that week were better, though Flitwick still wanted to see more excitement in their routines. Still, he gave them a five, and McGonagall and Slughorn both gave them a six. Lily was just happy it kept her out of the bottom two. She was certain the moment she ended up there, it would be over, and James wouldn't get any further.
Their third week went well too. They danced the quickstep, which wasn't so different from the foxtrot in that she picked it up quickly, enough so that they were able to work some more complex moves into the dance as well. That was the performance that finally got Flitwick on her side, and they were safe from the bottom two again with three scores of six.
Lily walked into week four feeling like maybe she could do this. She felt fit and she was starting to feel budding confidence that she at least could learn to dance.
But she was back on her guard when she walked into the dance studio and James handed her a blindfold.
"No."
He laughed at her.
"Potter, there can't possibly be a good reason for me to wear a blindfold."
"Actually, Evans, you've pointed out the reason for this blindfold more times than I can count." He smirked at her.
"Oh, really? Explain then, why am I supposed to wear a blindfold?"
"Because, there are mirrors on every wall of this room," he gestured around them. "And I need you to do something before I get started on teaching you our dance this week."
"What dance do we have?" Lily fidgeted with the blindfold he'd pressed into her hands.
"I'll tell you after we do this little exercise."
"James, this better not be anything stupid."
"I promise, it isn't anything stupid. I need you to trust me."
Lily rolled her eyes. "I do trust you."
"No, I need you to fully trust me."
"You promise, this isn't going to be something weird?"
"Dancer's honor," James put his hand over his heart.
Lily examined the blindfold carefully before looking back at James.
"Okay, but remember, you promised."
"I promise." James nodded her on.
Lily took a deep breath and tied the blindfold over her eyes. She let her hands fall to her side and tried to not let the disoriented feeling that hit overcome her.
James' hand took hers, and it was so familiar now that Lily wondered briefly at how when this was over, she'd never feel it again. The thought left a small ache in her chest.
"Walk with me," he spoke quietly.
Lily took cautious steps forward, feeling awkward and anxious that she would trip and fall on her face.
James stopped her and let go of her hand and Lily immediately felt lost.
"Now," James' voice was suddenly behind her, "When I tell you to, I want you to put out your arms, and fall backward, trusting that I will catch you."
"You're kidding!" Lily almost pulled her blindfold off, but James put his hands gently on her shoulders, causing Lily's frantic heartbeat to spike.
"No, I told you, I need you to really trust me. This next dance needs you to trust me completely."
Lily bit her lip and reached back for James. He grabbed her hand.
"Take a risk, Lily." He gave her hand a squeeze before letting go.
"Are you ready?" He sounded like he was on the other side of the room.
"You promise you'll catch me?"
"I promise." He sounded farther away this time.
Lily clenched her fists and held her arms out to the sides.
"Fall," James' voice was calm, in stark contrast to the way Lily's heart was beating so fast she was certain she might faint.
It happened quickly, but a part of Lily felt like it was in slow motion. She locked her legs and shifted her weight backward over her heels, then past them. Her body shifted and she began falling. The fall kept her from breathing, but as James' arms caught her, she gasped in a deep breath.
"Take off your blindfold," James' smile was evident in his voice.
Lily pulled the blindfold off and smiled as she looked up at James.
"Hi."
James chuckled, "Do you trust me?"
Lily nodded.
"Look in the mirror."
She turned her head and watched her smile fall off her face. She was no more than five inches from the ground.
"You let me fall that far?!"
James pushed her back up on her feet. "A little less than that far, notice you didn't hit your head on the floor. But there was a purpose behind it."
Lily glared at him, "Alright, relate this to dancing, oh wise teacher."
"We're dancing the paso doble this week, and that's going to come with me pushing you outside of your comfort zone in a lot of ways this week. I need you to trust me."
Lily pursed her lips. "I do trust you, but let's get all of this out in the open, no more surprises."
James motioned for her to sit with him and they walked to the chairs as he explained.
"The paso doble is going to require you to act. I'm the bullfighter and you're my cape. I need you to cling to me. I need you to let me throw you and flip you and I need you to fall and know that I'm going to catch you. I need you to trust me."
Lily took a deep breath and kept her arms folded across her chest.
"So, we're done with the easy platonic dances?"
James grinned, "Don't worry, those will come back. But this dance is better when we act the part."
Lily tried to keep her emotions in check. She'd seen Mary's favorite paso doble dances from past seasons, and she knew what James was getting at. Lily had put conscious effort into not letting her mind linger on how close she and James had to be in many of these dances. She wouldn't let her thoughts pull up those moments where James would keep his hand on the small of her back. She ignored everything that suggested she might be attracted to James; because she was very attracted to James.
"Ok," Lily nodded slowly. "I think I can act the part."
"We're going to be raising the bar for ourselves with this dance," James rested his arms on his legs and moved closer to her. "Are you game, Evans?"
Lily wasn't sure if she really was game for this. She'd been doing a fine job pretending that she wasn't attracted to him, and it showed in her dancing, she never got too close, never stayed too long in his embrace, never thought about his hands on her, never thought about how his eyes would watch her like she was captivating to him.
"I, yeah, yeah I'm game."
James jumped up and held out his hand. "Then let's dance!"
It was too easy. James commented on how well she was picking up on her part, but really Lily just had to let some slack out on her very tightly controlled emotions. Clinging to James wasn't unnatural, having him throw her into a spin before pulling her back flush against him was an action that felt innate within her, and when James flipped her around his arm, she had no problem moving in sync with his actions. It was all what she naturally wanted to do.
"This is going to be amazing!" James grinned at her. "You've been holding back on me, Evans. We've got a real shot at winning if you keep this up."
Lily forced a chuckle to keep herself from admitting how much she was still holding back. James' magnetic pull was strong, and she'd been building stone around her to keep from falling into it. But she felt like that stone was crumbling under this need to "act the part" as James had put it.
There was very little acting involved for Lily.
And as the week went on, the more she let those stone walls crumble the more James praised her, the happier he looked, and the more excited he was.
When the dress rehearsal came, Lily found that she wasn't nearly as nervous as she had been in the weeks prior. She felt like she could do this, like she could dance, and she tried to ignore the part of herself that realized it was all because she'd let those walls she had built up break and crumble around her heart and give in to the magnetic pull that was James Potter.
Their live performance was stunning. Even Lily could tell when they finished that it was amazing. The judges gave her a standing ovation. Flitwick cheered her for her daring and willingness to push herself. They earned a ten from Slughorn and a nine from McGonagall and Flitwick. They finished first.
It was the start of a new phase for Lily. She went from being certain that she would have no fan base when she ended up in the bottom two to being a minor star. Talk shows wanted to have her and James on with them. Her dormant Twitter account was suddenly awash with followers. But they still needed to keep the momentum up. James pushed them harder and harder every week, and Lily felt like she had to give him everything she could because James deserved to win. They consistently finished in the top three for the next five weeks, even when Lily had to start learning two dances a week.
Everything was moving in fast forward, and Lily tried to keep it that way. Because if she was exhausted, then she would be too tired to dream about having James' hand run up her neck to cup her face, or his forehead pressed against hers as his breath came in heavy gasps, or his arms wrapped around her middle, or the way he watched her like he was holding himself back.
It was all an act, it was all for the dance, but the deepest darkest part of Lily's heart hated that it was an act, and wanted desperately for it all to end so that she could start trying to forget how hard she was falling for one James Potter.
"What's this?" James asked as she walked into the studio and handed him a gift bag.
"A congratulations gift," Lily tried to make it feel nonchalant even as her emotions ran at top speed through her. "I happen to know this is the first time you've made it to the last two weeks."
James' smile made her chest hurt. "That has everything to do with you though."
"You're the teacher," Lily shook her head.
"And you are my best student," James' gaze had shifted to the one he used when they were acting the part and Lily found it hard to breathe. She needed something, anything to get him to stop looking at her like that off the dance floor.
"Lily-"
"James-"
"You first," James gave a chuckle and shoved his hand in his hair.
"Aren't you going to open the present?"
James combed his hand through his hair and reached into the gift bag. He laughed when he pulled out a miniature replica of the show's trophy.
"In case we don't win, you'll have a trophy, and," Lily picked at a hair on her shirt, "And, I wanted you to know that all of this has meant so much to me, and I'm so glad I met you. Even if we don't win, this has been amazing."
James grinned at the little trophy and turned it around his fingers.
"Thanks, Lils, I'm glad we got to be friends."
Lily blocked off the part of her heart that died at James' use of the word friends. That's all they were supposed to be - friends.
"Me too."
They finished second that week. Slughorn said he'd never seen a tango he enjoyed more on the show. McGonagall praised their contemporary dance and everything they managed to work into it. Flitwick told her he couldn't believe how far she'd come.
But what had made the entire night was James holding her flush against him for most of the night. Lily told herself that it didn't mean anything to him, that this was how dancers were. But her heart wanted it to be real, and she indulged in pretending it was real.
"We're in the finals!" James spun her around after the broadcast had finished.
"We're in the finals!" Lily laughed and spun back into him.
James pulled her closer, "Hey, Lily-"
"James!" One of the stagehands came running over. "You left this in the dressing rooms." He handed him the little trophy that Lily had given James.
James thanked him but Lily had taken advantage of the moment to step out of his embrace.
"So, I'll see you tomorrow morning," she slung her bag higher on her shoulder and tried to not let the ache in her chest manifest itself through her face.
James looked momentarily torn. "Yeah, yeah, I'll see you tomorrow morning."
Lily nodded and nearly ran to her car.
The last week of the competition was torture, and Lily was a glutton for punishment. James was constantly touching her, even if they weren't dancing: his arm was around her shoulders or his hand on her back, him smiling with his warm hazel eyes always watching her.
Lily had never been so torn in her entire life.
Finally, the finale came and Lily threw everything she had into the performances. She owed James that much. This was his career and since he'd helped her to get nearly 300 thousand dollars to pour into her research. She wanted to give James the real trophy, she wanted him to be able to say he won, that he was the best, because she honestly believed he was.
Their final dance was the contemporary, and when they finished, Lily was surprised when James pulled her into him, wrapping his arm around her neck and holding head against his own.
"You're perfect," he murmured into her ear, "Absolutely perfect."
"I think you are too," Lily clung to him through the cheers of the crowd.
"Lils-"
"Come on over you two!" The host interrupted him, and James sighed as he pulled back to lead them over to the judging, keeping her flush against him.
They scored first, and while Lily was ecstatic, a part of her wondered what James had meant to say before they had been interrupted. But as the night wore on, she never found out. There wasn't a quiet moment for the rest of the night, and especially not when they won the trophy.
Lily had felt like the air was sucked out of her when they announced she and James had won. And then she thought she might faint when James pulled her into him for how tightly he held her. It seemed like whatever spark she might have felt when they finished their final dance ended with the dance as well. She went home feeling a little empty after it all.
"Where are you going to put it?" Mary was holding the trophy in Lily's office as Lily tried to catch up on some of the things she had missed in the three months she'd spent competing.
"I don't know," Lily laughed at the mammoth thing. She'd spent that morning doing interviews with James and was only now making it into her lab after lunch. The interviews had been weird, not because she and James were the winners, but because James had been almost shy around her. He managed to turn it off for the cameras, but he seemed much less confident and sure of himself when it was just the two of them.
"I wonder where James is going to put his," Mary tried to carefully set Lily's trophy down on her desk. "Why did you bring yours here?"
"I was asked to have it with me for the interview." Lily frowned at one of the emails and flagged it so she could come back to it.
"What if you kept it here?" Mary teased her.
"Very funny," Lily laughed, "don't you have work to do?"
"Actually, now that you've brought in all this research money, I do." Mary blew her a kiss before sliding out the door.
Lily sighed as she looked at the trophy now on her desk. She picked it up and set it in a drawer in her desk and flinched at the clanging noise it made. The interviews had been weird, but it had also been hard. It had been hard to see James and not touch him. It had been hard to see James and not fall into the rhythm that they'd set for themselves during the competition. But it was for the best. She needed to get these feelings out of her system; they may have been why she was able to win the competition with him, but now she had to stop; those feelings were not reciprocated, but they were also wildly inappropriate.
At least she had her research to throw herself into. She could hide in her research until her heart put itself back together.
"So, this is where you save the planet?"
Lily looked up to see James leaning against her door frame.
"Hi!" She jumped up with a smile but then paused, not sure what to do next. "Um, yeah, I, this is my office."
James shoved his hand in his hair. "Hope it's alright I looked you up."
"Of course, I," Lily struggled to think of what to do or what to say. Her office suddenly felt fifty yards across. "What's up?"
James gripped his hair. "I know this could be out of line, and you can totally throw me out, but um, would you want to grab dinner with me sometime?"
Lily could feel her heartbeat in her ears. "Like, like a date?"
James looked at her with that same stare he'd used when they were performing, the one that had made Lily wish he wasn't acting because it looked like he wanted her. "Yeah, a date."
Lily felt her smile break wide across her face. "I'd really like to get dinner with you."
James' whole face lit up like the stage lights when their dances would start, "Tonight? Can I pick you up here at 5?"
"Yeah," Lily laughed, feeling like all the awkwardness from that morning was fading away.
"Great," James pushed off the door frame, "I'll see you in four hours."
Lily watched him walk away and it felt like he pulled the air out of her with it.
That was it? She had been so wrapped up in crossing a line, in doing something wrong, that she had never let herself even consider what life with James might look like. But she knew James, and she knew that he was anything but status quo; he was nothing like the stagnant air that surrounded her. James took risks.
And he once told her she could too.
Lily bolted from her office.
"James!" She watched him turn the corner at the end of the hall and went running after him. "James!"
Lily nearly fell as she rounded the corner, but James jumped for her, his arm keeping her from hitting the floor.
"Alright there, Evans?" James looked down at her with apprehension.
"Yeah, just," Lily swallowed, "um, I." Lily summoned all her courage and stepped up to him, pushing forward to lightly press her lips to his. James stiffened and Lily immediately pulled away. "Ok, I, um, I'll see you in a few hours."
She moved to step back but James grabbed her arm and pulled her back into him, his arms wrapped around her back, his hands pressing against her spine and holding her close to his chest. His lips captured hers and Lily sighed as she fisted her hands in his t-shirt.
"I've wanted to do that for weeks," James rested his forehead against hers and smiled down at her.
"Me too," Lily laughed as she smiled back up at him. "And now I'm not going to get anything done today."
"Want to take off? Start our date early?" James moved closer to speak against her lips.
A part of Lily within her brain immediately responded with no, that she had work to do. But the part that had James' lips ghosting over hers overruled all objections. After all, she could take risks.
"I need to grab my purse," Lily pressed forward to kiss him again.
James moved his hand to take hers and then began dancing them down the hall to her office.
"Let's get out of here."
Lily laughed and once they'd made it to her office, she shut down her computer before grabbing her purse. She took James' proffered hand and leaned over to kiss him.
"Lily, did you get…" Mary trailed off. Her shocked face quickly turned to an excited smile as Lily pulled her lips from James'. "Never mind, never mind, I saw nothing, my lips are sealed, and I want a ticket for next season as my Christmas present this year!" She gave an excited squeal and then retreated out of Lily's office.
"Think you can get her a ticket?" Lily laughed up at James.
"Probably," he shrugged, "but I'll look into that later." He kissed her. "Now, I want to find a place to be with you that doesn't involve anything to do with either of our jobs."
"That's an idea I can get behind." Lily kissed him before letting James lead her out of her office and on to their date.
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