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#I'm writing this instead of doing online college

animentality · 13 hours

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not to be a boomer, but I do worry about the current generation of kids being raised with iPads.

first off. some of them literally can't hold a pencil because their parents never gave them physical toys to grip and play with, developing their fine motor skills.

you might ask why do we even need to learn how to write physically anymore- well, frankly, because if you're stranded on an island somewhere and you need to write HELP, you might not have the strength to hold a pencil, but you can at least hold a stick.

but on a more general note.

writing by hand helps you remember things better. it forces you to focus in a way that typing something word for word does not. a person can transcribe what a professor says without even thinking about it.

someone writing notes has to consider what to write and what to omit. it also activates more parts of your brain, forcing you to flex the parts of your brain related to learning and communicating, while also engaging the part of your brain dedicated to muscle control and precision.

but in general, I think the issue isn't even oh technology is bad and kids are getting dumber.

you can have PowerPoints AND take physical notes. that could help you learn even better than the olden days where you just had to remember everything that was thrown at you. or read very limited, out of date books.

the problem is that the generation that raised/is raising this generation of children just doesn't understand the true impact that all this technology will have on their kids. or they just don't care.

because our generation had the internet yes, but it wasn't widely accessible for most of us, sharing our computers with the entire family in the kitchen. it was also the internet in its infancy, where it wasn't quite so predatory, when it was lawless and disturbing, yes, but it wasn't weaponized by corporations trying to sell you things and steal your data, it wasn't flooded with bots and ai and all sorts of things that the human brain can't even distinguish as real or fake, especially when you're just a little kid.

that generation still played with physical toys. we celebrated when it snowed and we could stay home.

we also came from a gen that still, vaguely, cared about some form of community and had third spaces for kids to hang out.

90s children, who still had some memories of both playing outside on a playground and playing Mario Kart on the Nintendo 64 with their friends, who both went out to the mall and had a club penguin account.

we grew up with laptops and smart boards. maybe some of us had them in high school or college, but we still physically went to class and developed relationships. learned uncomfortable things about ourselves and others, the way humans do.

met new people and were exposed to new ideas, away from our parents. but not from some fucking influencer trying to sell us Sephora products.

we had to study for things, instead of just being able to Google shit for some bullshit online test.

which is also something that really concerns me. so many kids today can so easily Google answers for every test, and while tests don't ultimately matter in the real world, they still provide some basis for things that do matter.

like I'm just imagining medical students googling how to perform an appendectomy on the day of, and just using a YouTube tutorial to guide them through, and shuddering.

there are some things that the Internet can't teach you.

there always will be.

but I don't think my generation is really helping their kids find the balance that we were given naturally growing up.

the boomers and gen xers had fist fights and we had bullying someone online until they committed suicide.

and now kids use AI to spread fake nudes of girls.

but the laws haven't caught up with a lot of this stuff yet, and certainly won't while we have dinosaurs running our government. and culture takes even longer to change than laws.

I also worry because I know how badly covid affected kids worldwide. how they struggle to read and do math, because remote learning just isn't good for kids.

and I can't even blame them!! I literally teleworked for 4 years and even I can admit that I'm not nearly as good at focusing at home as I am in the office.

it's hard for kids with social anxiety and disabilities, yes I know, I know, trust me, I have social anxiety, and as a hybrid worker ATM, I highly doubt I'd be able to handle 5 days a week in the office.

but it's also not particularly good for kids to stay home ALL the time, entertaining themselves in their room and never being challenged, and never meeting people other than their parents.

the iPad is more of a symbol of that problem than the direct problem.

if your entire... world view is limited to what you can see on your iPad... I mean what a terrible world view you'll have.

you're a 10 year old using TikTok and all you ever see is the same opinion over and over until you can scarcely comprehend people who have an opposing opinion.

you see fake videos that seem so real. that must be real, and so comforting, aren't they, those videos that seem so real?

you let 30 year old influencers who are trying to grift people shape your world view.

and it's not even your fault.

your parents aren't doing anything to help you.

you're young and you're being barraged with entertainment and fake educational videos and how to guides that accidentally create mustard gas in your toilet.

your parents should be teaching you to find a balance between these things. they should be telling you what's real and caution you about the things you see.

they should limit your fucking time on the iPad actually. take you to a fucking park and let you roll in the mud or some shit.

and then when you're a teenager and a young adult, then you can start deciding for yourself what you believe.

but a lot of these weird millennial/gen z parents, man. just let your 1 year old scroll through vids on TikTok while you don't even talk to them or look at them once.

maybe it's because they don't see the harm in it, but I don't get it.

adults can watch TikTok all day and know, ahhh this is bad for me. I'm not doing anything I actually want to be doing.

adults can see other adults doing dumb shit and say ah you're sponsored. someone paid you money to say and do that. silly.

but kids are just kids.

they don't have discipline and frankly, that's not their responsibility. that is yours.

you should be teaching them that they can't have everything in life at their finger tips at all times, actually.

the iPad doesn't solve all of your problems, nor will it think critically for you.

so I worry about if humanity can really keep up with its own technology.

our species is still in its infancy, believe it or not.

so maybe these are just growing pains, and future generations will be able to look back on this era and know the proper balance.

but as someone living in 2024.

I wonder just how much pain is left before we really mature and either make it or break it.

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kokoa-la · 10 months

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Ngl I just find it so funny if Danny just accidentally becomes friends with someone trying to rob him like-

___________________________________

“Get up!”

And he was up, hands above his head and everything. The guy in all black proceeded to pat him down along his pockets while pointing a gun at him otherwise.

“How do you not have a wallet on you?”

“I’m a college student, I can barely afford tuition.”

That’s a lie, he was on a full ride scholarship, but they didn’t need to know that.

“Oh you too?”

Did this bitch just say ‘you too’ ? No way.

“‘You too?’ Are you doing this to pay for college???”

Ancients, the school system sucked if he had to resort to crime for this.

“Yeah- you wouldn’t believe how expensive my major is, the textbooks alone cost more than my rent!”

“Holy shit, no kidding. Yeah, why are textbooks so expensive? Why am I paying hundreds of dollars for something that could have been a 2 dollar pdf?”

“Right! I tried asking my professor instead, but he said he’d fail me if I didn’t have the right materials! It’s driving me nuts. Like how am I supposed to pay for all this?”

How Dannt started making conversation with his own robber, he didn’t know, but he was happy to finally complain with someone. He hadn’t exactly made friends since he got here.

“Personally I buy used books, and the more trashed they are, the cheaper. Then, you can just use the pdf version but still have the textbook in class. It’s honestly so much easier. Or you can see if you can borrow it from the library and just bring it in for the classes he checks it, then return it after to avoid the fees. That option is a bit more troublesome though.”

“Oh shit, no way! That’s awesome, I never thought of that, thanks man! Man, I wish I talked to you sooner.”

“Yeah, it’s all good, maybe just avoid the crime after this? There’s tons of online jobs you can do during class and stuff. I don’t know, there’s always another option than crime. You sound like a good guy, just desperate.”

The robber turned friend (?) lowered his gun and sighed before returning the items in the bag to everyone. He then apologized to the cashier and then to everyone else before giving Danny a hug (how long had it been since he’d gotten one of those?) and leaving. Danny was so proud of him he almost cried (again).

______________

I know it's a bit weird and out of place, but that's bcs its a snippet from a fic I'm writing on ao3 😭

But still, I need more of Danny befriending ppl trying to jump/rob him

#dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #danny fenton #college au #prompt #dc x dp prompt #dp prompt #college is too damn expensive #sometimes the guy trying to rob you is just a desperate college student with a mean professor who won't let him use a pdf #justice for side character a

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ms-demeanor · 4 months

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*screaming*

*continued screaming*

Okay. So. My introductory Visual C# class.

The professor for that class was Alice. Alice was the person who spoke in the introductory video and the person who we were supposed to email if we had any issues.

But all of the assignments, lectures, and quizzes were written and delivered by Bob. On the youtube channel "Bob's programming academy." The quizzes included Bob's name, like "if you do X will it return the string ProfessorBob, Professor, Bob, or Professor.Bob?"

This class was really frustrating for me because it was structured in such a way that you could easily pass the class with zero knowledge of the subject - it was totally based on quizzes that you could take an unlimited number of times and we *had* weekly programming assignments but they weren't graded so there was no incentive to do them (and look, if I wanted to teach myself programming with no incentives I could fail for several years to do that on my own, I don't need to pay fifty bucks a unit for that; the reason I am in a *class* and am not self-taught is because I need external motivation. That's why I sought out a class).

Also when there *was* a problem with an instruction that was unclear in one of the videos for the assignments, or if I thought I'd done something correctly that was very much incorrect, it wasn't Alice who had created the instructions, it was Bob - in 2017 no less - and I didn't really feel like I could ask Alice for help with an ungraded assignment that she hadn't written.

So. Now. My Python class.

Today is the first day of class. Professor is Charles.

I go to the mandatory attendance quiz and it is word-for-word the same mandatory attendance quiz as the C# class, down to the final question "what is your personal email address so I can keep in contact with you after the semester?"

I look at the syllabus.

Class grade is based on quizzes. We have assignments but none of them are graded. There's no textbook, just a series of videos from Professor Bob's Programming Academy.

So I'd been toying with staying at this school and trying to take more CS classes instead of going to another school, just to try to keep my records easier to manage, but since it seems like that *ENTIRE DEPARTMENT* is five Professor Bobs in a trenchcoat, I will probably be going somewhere else (and once again trying to force myself to do projects that I already know are *good for me to do* but *useless for the class and a massive time suck*)

I should drop this class. I should drop this class and apply for the other school so that I can start taking classes there in the spring because if I take this class and then go into the object oriented programming class in the spring and it's another professor bob sock puppet and I end up taking twelve units of programming classes where all I learn is how to google answers in a short time frame (something I already know how to do thanks) I am going to fucking lose it.

Also, again: I have a Bachelor's Degree. I spent five years at a community college when I was getting that degree. I took probably a dozen online classes starting in 2005 and going until 2011 in the process of getting that degree.

THIS bullshit, this "I'm your professor but actually I'm not and all the materials were created by someone else in the department or came directly from the textbook publisher and there is no writing and there are no assignments everything is multiple choice quizzes that are automatically graded" is *dogshit.*

This is NOT how online classes worked back in my day, not even online math classes, and as much as I know adjuncts are getting fucked over by academia in general, this isn't something that these professors should be getting paid as much as they are to do. Alice checked whether or not students turned in a hello world assignment and gave a pass/fail grades for three discussion boards that were responses to youtube videos. Nothing else in the class required her input. If this is the level of instruction that students are getting then the class is already automated and the students shouldn't have to pay for it.

This is crap. This is an incredible level of crap.

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captain-mj · 21 days

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Bro you cannot just drop prep/jock soap and goth ghost and dip. We need you to give us your brain worms so we can analyze it like a science project

When you have time of course

I will put my worms in a petri dish for you

Soap was an artist! He liked sketching and painting and the act of making art. But he didn't like art essays. The explaining over and over again each detail. Breaking down everything until it felt like a bunch of paint strokes instead of art.

But part of an art degree is a ton of art essays. So Soap went to the museum to write what he needed. He preferred museums to finding art online. A big part of art for him was texture. His preference would've been to touch the art, to feel the paint underneath his fingers. But the assignment specified art from the Baroque period and therefore they had to be older and no museum was going to allow his grubby hands to touch the art.

Soap glanced down one of halls to see if there was anything interesting there when he faltered.

Oh lord.

The man was big. His shoulders. His height. The thighs he had that looked like tree trunks. It was all covered in tight black fabric and silver chains. A work of bloody art himself.

Soap had to hold himself back from wolf whistling.

Once he was done objectifying admiring the man's body, he looked higher up. There was a mask covering the bottom of his face, the only thing visible being his eyes which had heavy eyeliner on them. He could still see the locs of bleached blond hair that surrounded him like a halo.

Soap wanted to paint him.

"You gonna stare all day?" Someone snarked at him and he jumped, glancing at a slightly smaller blond man. He looked at him like he was gross and for a brief moment, he worried he might be about to be hate crimed. The man looked a lot the other one actually now that he was looking closer. Dressed the same way too.

"Aye, what's your fucking problem with it?"

The man's face scrunched. "Ew." He walked away, leaving Soap rather confused but now a bit determined to talk to mystery man.

Pretending to be looking through the paintings, he got closer to him.

Dark brown eyes quickly glanced over at him before glancing back at the paintings.

"Hey. My name is Soap."

"Ghost."

Ooh, he's from Manchester and sticks with his aesthetic. Nice. He'd prefer a not British person, but as far as British people go, he could do worse than Manchester. He glanced at the painting Simon had been admiring.

The Raising of Lazarus by Rembrandt.

"It's a lovely painting." Soap put on his normal charm, acting suave and polite.

"Aye." Ghost gruffed and went quiet again, staring in simple contemplation. His arms were crossed, making already large arms flex.

Soap started to take notes for his assignment. Although he was definitely hoping to score well in more than one ways, he did need to take notes for his assignment.

Ghost glanced over at what he was writing quizzically and Soap answered the unasked question. "I'm doing a project."

"Fun." He huffed and looked back at the painting.

Soap looked down at his chest and licked his hips. "Yeah, it's a good one." He kept writing stuff. "You a college student?"

"Yeah."

"What do you study?"

"Forensics. I'm assuming you're art?"

"Chemistry with a minor in art!" Right as Soap went to mention how funny it was that they didn't share any classes, Ghost interrupted him.

"Wait. Johnny? Johnny MacTavish? We share several classes."

Soap brightened. "Do you dress like this all the time?" There was zero chance he did or Soap would already know his name, address and dick size.

"We have morning classes together. I don't dress up for morning classes." Ghost said decisively. He stretched and shook his head.

How did he manage to not notice the shoulders though at least? The man was huge. He was also several inches taller than Soap and therefore the majority of the class. Maybe if he sat in the back and left later than everyone?

Soap nodded. "Understandable. You look nice."

"Nice huh?" Ghost smiled at him. He could tell cause his eyes scrunched slightly.

"Yeah. Nice." Soap said softly, his chest doing something weird.

They stared at the painting a while before Ghost pulled away to start exploring the rest of the exhibit.

Soap finished up the notes he needed to write his paper and then started to walk with him. He tried to find his opening during all of this.

Ghost stopped at a very specific painting.

ARTEMESIA GENTILESCHI, JUDITH SLAYING HOLOFERNES, C. 1612–1613

The art was... stunning. The red, faded from time and wear, was still beautiful against the white of the blankets.

The women held him down and there was a movement to it that Soap wanted in his own work. His fingers trembled with the want to touch it. To feel the texture of the paint under his fingers. Ridges and bumps and smooth layers of the different strokes.

Ghost hummed. "I don't really get art. It's pretty but some people look at it and it... gives them something. An epiphany."

Soap hummed. "I find touching it helps."

Ghost looked at him, raking his eyes over him. "I see. Do you want to head out then?"

Soap frowned. "Why?"

"You're a piece of art and I'm looking for an epiphany."

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #call of duty modern warfare ii #cod mw2 #ghostsoap #cod #soapghost #ghoap #btw the mystery guy is Tommy #He's not homophobic #just thinks that liking his brother is gross

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avelera · 2 months

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Oh GOD you, too, are an online lectures geek pls consider this your invitation to talk about favs--ones that stuck with you, current obsessions--the more the better! In trade, I'll tell you the two things I'm currently adoring: Yale's Open Course podcast on The Civil War to Reconstruction done by David Blight (man forgot more than ten other civil war historians know even if he mumbles *constantly*) and A History of Christianity by Diarmaid MacCulloch (so! worth the Prime BBC free trial <3)

Hiya! Don't mind if I do!

So 99% of the lectures I've watched lately are on the Great Courses Plus which was recently and stupidly renamed "Wondrium", which I find profoundly stupid because instead of just saying, "Hey, check out the Great Courses, yeah you can kinda guess what the streaming service offers," I have to instead explain what this nonsense term "Wondrium" means, ANYWAY, they've got lectures about basically everything.

Essentially, it's Netflix but for college lectures. YouTube has become so unreliable as far as what's actual information and what's completely made up or even racist conspiracy theory BS that I find it completely untrustworthy. Also, most documentaries are trying to prove something new, or offer a new angle on something, OR they're SO rudimentary and 101 that even for topics I know less about in history I tend to already know everything they're going to say.

So I pivoted to college lectures because 1) it's a whole series so like, dozens of hours I can just throw on in the background while doing something mindless and 2) I know it's going to be trustworthy, reliable, and provide me a baseline on a topic instead of some "new controversial spin" on it. Like, goddammit, sometimes I just want to better understand the history of Ancient Egypt, not your stupid theory about how they were secretly all space aliens or that we've got the carbon dating all wrong or whatever made up nonsense.

So, here's a list of some of my favorites!

Hannibal: The Military Genius Who Almost Conquered Rome - I consider myself about as near an expert as a non-academic can get on Rome and this lecture actually taught me some things, which is rare, so I recommend it as a fantastic deep dive!

How the Crusades Changed History is a pretty good short version that I recommend to anyone who enjoyed The Old Guard's Nicky and Joe BUT, for the best Crusades lecture, I'd recommend this History of the Crusades podcast. Sharyn Eastaugh is not just insanely informative, but her dry wit made me laugh out loud at least once an episode at the sheer hapless ineptitude of the Crusaders.

In the Wake of the Plague is a fantastic new lecture by Wondrium, the lecturer is amazing and it provides a lot of objective insights into how humans react to plagues that is VERY relevant to current events, BUT their lecture on **The Black Death in general is the one that got me obsessed with their lecture series. I watched it in the first week of Covid lockdown and let me tell you, having this super in-depth, objective look into how people behaved during the Black Death was incredibly valuable (and chilling) going into those years because it all played out with astonishing similarity. Also, anything by that lecturer, Dorsey Armstrong, is awesome. She's a Medievalist of the highest order. I also recommend her lecture on King Arthur.

**The Birth of the Modern Mind: The Intellectual History of the 17th and 18th Centuries - this one wins the award for "Lecture I thought most likely to bore me to tears that ended up being the single most fascinating I've heard in YEARS." Seriously, the way it explores the evolution of how we think in the modern era, through the philosophers who first conceived of these ideas, was jaw-droppingly fascinating. I also recommend it to writers of historical fiction and fantasy for a crash course, by proxy, of how to write people who think differently than you.

The Other Side of History: Daily Life in the Ancient World - I once had beef with a post here on Tumblr that claimed that academic Classicists don't care about slaves or normal people during the Roman Empire, which is just profoundly absurd. I pointed out this lecture to them if they actually wanted to learn more about the subject instead of complaining that an art history professor may not have been prepped for a lecture about the lives of enslaved people in Ancient Rome. If that is a subject of interest, this lecture is great.

The Real History of Pirates - a must-listen for OFMD fans who want to get an introduction to historical pirates and the history of pirates in literature, which "Our Flag Means Death" owes as much if not more to than the historical figures.

**Turning Points in Middle Eastern History - One of the first lectures I listened to and still one of my enduring favorites. It's the first one I picked up for writing my Old Guard fic, Lights Out, when I wanted to write Joe from a more informed angle and I learned so much.

Understanding Japan: A Cultural History - One of my favorite lectures based on format, the lecturer picks a literary work or cultural concept as the entry point to explore the timeline of Japanese history. It's a fantastic way to give a wider and more holistic look at each era, pairing it with a cultural touchstone.

Shout-out to "The Mysterious Etruscans" because I just think they're neat. The lecturer is also very good and I highly recommend his lecture on ancient cities as well which taught me a lot that I didn't know.

Also a shout out to, "Warriors, Queens, and Intellectuals: 36 Great Women before 1400" for its subject and the lecturer who is great and she also has a really fascinating talk about the history of Spain.

Ok, I THINK that's some of the top ones! ;D

#history #wondrium #lecture recommendations #long post

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maximotts · 1 year

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𝙻𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝙵𝚒𝚟𝚎: 𝙰𝚌𝚞𝚝𝚎 𝙴𝚗𝚟𝚒𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎

a/n: we've finally gotten to the part I'd started writing back in October for @furys-eyepatch Kinktober request... before I went off the rails with a whole series.. Anyways uh.. hope y'all like smut! I'm sure you do because you're here on my smut peddling blog

✎— priest’s daughter!Wanda x college student!reader ✎— confessions AU; Wanda finally gives enough hints that you catch on, but she's still supposed to be helping you study aka you try a more hands-on approach to learning for the both of you ✎— warnings: this is an 18+ series, minors DNI; fluff, smut, so much smut; virginity loss, inspection kink feat. witch's mark lore, lots of kisses because Wanda's kissable, praise kink, embarrassment kink if you squint, fingering (wanda receiving), dry humping, pet names (princess, baby, things of that sort), I think that's it ? Wanda's just getting softish smut times

✎— words: 7k

series masterlist. || main masterlist.

It was Thursday and Wanda was stewing.

All week you’d barely touched her, keeping distance that Wanda hadn’t asked for nor did she want. Even when alone, you’d kiss her when she asked, but only quickly no matter how she pouted. She wanted to ask you, but each time she tried she chickened out, worried she’d be too much of a bother or come off as annoyingly needy.

Today though, she’d had enough. Wanda settled on a shorter than normal pleated skirt minutes before you knocked on her door, grinned to herself whenever she caught you staring at her legs as you walked to class. You’d given good faith effort in giving her space, testing if she truly did want you as you hoped or if she was following your lead.

The past six days of not only Wanda’s growing desperation, but yours as well, taught you that no, you really were into one another. Now, you had to find a way to do something about it.

It was funny really, how some opportunities presented themselves, sometimes perfectly laid out and others thickly cloaked in an semi-innocent request to hang out. You had to be quiet about it, your professor droning on about something you’d long since given up learning, but if you texted her, Wanda wouldn’t have answered so whispering it was. “Will you help me study if I come over after class?”

Next week’s test was bound to be a killer with how little attention you paid in class; if only the subject was Wanda instead of witch trials. Thankfully you had the next best thing to lectures at your disposal: Wanda’s meticulous note-taking skills. You’d never think of asking her to help you cheat, she was too uptight of a student for that, but she was always willing to be your study partner, an offer you had yet to pass up whenever test time rolled around.

Wanda turned to you, quickly dropping her pen and smiling way too bright for such a simple question, but it’d been a few days since you’d spent time together outside of class and she was beginning to worry she really had ruined whatever the two of you had. Maybe Agatha’s online skirt choice was magical; she’d have to fill her in on whatever happened later, if anything. “You know you’re always welcome, silly. I’ve missed you.”

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

The familiar sight of you unzipping your backpack, unloading your various notebooks to sprawl across your living room just didn’t feel right today. For all your hatred of studying, right now you seemed much more keen on it than she was.. and she hated it. Wanda hadn’t worn this stupid skirt, exposing her legs to too cold weather for nothing. Deeply uncharacteristic confidence washed over her then, a determination to set the mood as much as she dared. The living room wasn’t the right setting, not where you’d both be sat upright and away from one another. Wanda needed close proximity and intimacy and the place where she’d accomplished the most of that so far was only in the next room.

She swooped in to take your books, gathering them up and clutching them too frantically to her chest. In her head, Wanda was smooth about it, seductive and alluring; the clumsiness of her real self left her cringing internally, but she committed to playing it off, “Maybe we should study in my room?”

Wanda was walking away before you’d had a chance to respond, both of your bookbags over her shoulder and your textbooks in her hand, heading to her bedroom in a rush. Your brow furrowed at her sudden change of behavior, but she was too far away not to question her skittishness. You didn’t mind, it was just…odd. Whatever she was up to, you wouldn’t pass up getting cozy to Wanda and so, confused as you were, you followed her like an obedient puppy.

Turns out, even pretending to study was a struggle. More so when Wanda was perched so prettily in her own bed, swinging her stocking clad feet off the edge of the mattress. It couldn’t have been anything other than sheer stupidity that you chose to sit in the swiveling desk chair instead of next to her. Not that that would make studying classwork any easier.

“This is so boring, Wands, I can’t focus,” Just then your eyes scanned the same textbook pages you’d had open for twenty minutes, caught the topic of this week’s quiz, and a wicked thought blossomed fast.

“I’ve read enough books and seen more than enough movies to know all I need to know about witch’s marks I think,” Wanda made a noncommittal noise, highlighting line after line of important text studiously just as she did in class— but this wasn’t a lecture hall. Outside of school, without distractions, you had a plan and the time to boot; this test could wait.

Setting aside your books, you stood up and made your way over to Wanda, sitting beside her like you’d done so many times before. This time though, your position was for anything but platonic. Mischievous fingers brushed Wanda’s long hair over her shoulder, tucking it behind her ear to get the view you were after. "Did you know some people used to think freckles were witch's marks? And that you belonged to the devil if you had them?"

“Yes, I did and it’s ridiculous. A freckle is just a random mark, anyone can have them. Most people do,” The brunette was overly aware of you slowly sneaking closer, rambled on about the biology of freckles to compensate for her rise in nerves. The last time she’d taken a millisecond long glance at you, your gaze was locked onto her neck so intensely she was sure there was something there. Her free hand came to cover whatever it was, but you were quicker, grabbing her wrist and lowering her arm back into her lap. “What are you-”

“Oh look, a witch.” Two fingers danced along Wanda’s neck, pattern set by the myriad of freckles you’d stared at nearly every day of your life for months. Stiff as she was, Wanda didn’t move, not even as you inched closer for a closer look. When you kissed the tiny mark behind her ear she sighed, shuddering out a breath; Wanda being so quick to rile was still one of your favorite things. After so long of thinking about you without actually getting you, she was arguably easier to set off.

You weren’t doing much, just featherlight kisses over the few freckles visible outside of the collar of her sweater, but to Wanda, the room was already starting to feel warmer. She wanted you to continue though, hoped your careless push of her neglected study materials off her lap meant you were going to, “I have a lot of freckles.”

That made you pull away, devilish smirk plain as day on your lips. Having seen a few of them in Wanda’s various outfits, you knew she did have quite a few and although you’d dreamt of it once or twice, you’d obviously never gotten to take your sweet time mapping them out. “Can I see them?”

Wanda took inventory of all her known freckles and immediately realized her own error, “Not all of them…” The majority of her freckles were scattered across her chest and midsection with some on her arms, but at least a handful on her thighs where she’d been daydreaming of your mouth for days. She remembered it all so vividly, couldn’t yet look at a picture of ice cream without squeezing her legs together; Wanda didn’t know how she had a hope of handling you all over.

“Why not? You can be a cute little witch,” Your arms caged her in on either side of her legs, kissing along her jawline for as long as she let you. Gentle lips covered the two freckles on the apple of Wanda’s cheek at once, purposefully leaving a wet mark to chill in your absence, “and I’ll be the doctor assigned to come take a look at you.”

Shaky breaths breezed over your chin in your closeness and you looked up to find Wanda’s eyes already fluttering closed and were you not so stubbornly set on your original plan, you’d abandon it just to envelope her in a hug. It wasn’t good medical practice to fall for your patients, but you never said you’d be a good practitioner. “I won’t tell anyone…”

“Uhm…” She fidgeted with her hands, unsure of what she was supposed to do when she only wanted to lay back and enjoy the attention. Playing doctor was the last thing she’d expected to be doing with you, nor did she know how to play— if there even was a proper way to let someone poke and prod at you. It excited her though, wiggling in the narrow space you’d left her with and she begged her voice to speak up and agree. Most importantly, Wanda wanted to keep herself focused enough not to say or do anything to turn you away, but at her core, even in the safety of her apartment, she was shy. “Promise?”

Wanda felt you nod your head seconds before your teeth grazed her throat, some faint agreement mumbled into her warm skin. Further down, your hand found hers, prying her fingers apart to loop your pinky with hers, “Pinky promise. It’ll be our little secret.”

The soft little touch warmed Wanda’s heart, knowing you only promised in such a way for her benefit; she always spoke of the importance of a pinky promise. Finally given something to do, she pulled at the edges of her sweater and shimmied her arms out before stretching the thick knit over her head. “Okay, doctor, tell me what you think…”

Wanda tried to keep her apartment at a reasonable temperature, but now she felt chilled, exposed to your hungry, wandering gaze and she was left feeling just as scared as she was excited. But you looked at her as if she was something to marvel at, some rare artwork; Wanda chose to believe the stare was genuine instead of for the sake of the game. That alone kept her comfortable.

“You certainly do have a lot,” Careful hands roamed over your new discovery, taking note of the small marks you spotted either from remembering them on her shoulders or new ones that caught your eye. Luckily for you, the very nature of inspections required time and detail because you’d always been a tactile learner.

No matter where you placed them, every kiss to Wanda’s skin brought out a new noise, each squeak, whine, and whimper spurring you on further. She kept still as you dragged fingertips over the pattern of freckles on her back and hips and held her arms, but then you ducked down, taking count of each mark over her chest and abdomen— she shouldn’t have shuddered as hard as she did. “I don’t think you’re doing it right…”

“How would you know, hm?” You were slow, deliberate, making the most of your doctor role by testing her reactions, scraping your nails down her back to judge her shivers, sucking and biting anything you found on a part of her you wanted to linger longer like the dip of her hips or right over the swell of her breast peeking from her bra. You could’ve lost yourself in her so easily, sweet perfume luring you into staying and worshiping her until your mouth grew tired. “Anyone ever accused you of being a witch before?”

Wanda shook her head slowly, focusing instead on your tongue leaving thick wet lines over her stomach. It was cruel really, the same thing you’d done last week at the fair, but this time there was no one else around, nothing to take your focus off her. She’d never craved attention more in her entire life. “‘M not a witch..”

Your pleased hum tickled right under her ribs, a pleasant little flutter before your teeth met yet another freckle you’d found. “No… you’re such a good girl.” The words shouldn’t have bothered her, really they didn’t; in any other situation Wanda wouldn’t be scared that they meant you’d stop once more. She couldn’t disagree though, only shifted her legs just the tiniest bit further apart as your hands smoothed over her thighs. Wanda didn’t mind being good, not if it all brought her to this, to you.

Carefully ironed pleats folded easily as you pushed up with your palms, but then a shocking thing— her stockings stopped at her upper thigh, giving way to metal clasps and satin straps on either side of her outer legs. An immodest change of dress, one that had you shifting against the mattress yourself. “Sweet little Wanda… does your daddy know you wear garters and thigh highs instead of proper tights now?”

The thought of anyone else knowing mortified her. This was only Wanda’s second day wearing them and yes, maybe she’d donned them specifically in the hopes you’d uncover them, but she couldn’t admit to such an atypical act. “I- no, it’s not what you think!”

“No? You know what I think, Wanda? I think you want to misbehave.” Wanda was staring up at the ceiling faster than she realized you’d pushed her back, skirt hopelessly rucked about her waist as you hitched her legs about your hips. The taut elastics of her tights snapped back on her with a sting that made her yelp, such a cute noise you found yourself repeating the action just to hear it again.

“You want to go out and get wasted, ask me to fuck you, and have nasty sex in the back of someone’s car like you always make fun of movie characters doing,” You weren’t wrong. She’d stopped denying it now, too busy fighting the urge to close her eyes as blunt fingernails grazed over her brand new lace underwear.

They did absolutely nothing to shield her from even the barest stimulation and between wearing them in class and now this afternoon, Wanda already felt nearly unbearably hypersensitive. Natasha was right; the only reason to wear these were if you planned on getting laid and god, Wanda hoped that was exactly what you were about to do. “Are you tired of being an angel, sweet thing?”

Correct as you were, the brunette still couldn’t say it, refused to own up to her suggestive behaviors and lose her lifelong good girl status. As annoying as it was sometimes, that’s all Wanda knew herself as, all you knew her as. What if she gave it up and you lost interest in her? The rational parts of Wanda’s brain interjected, reminded her of just who’d suggested this imaginative play, who was currently hovering above her waiting for an affirmative response to keep whatever this inspection was going. If you liked her then and still showed interest now, would she actually be losing anything?

She stared up at you with pleading green irises, the faintest hint of her nod rustling the pillow supporting her head. Her legs stayed rested around yours as you pulled back, massaging her hips as a gentle comfort while you finished the last of your inspection. You swept in to give due attention to any freckles you might’ve missed last week, arms circling around each thigh as you dragged your mouth over them, pleased to find your hickeys hadn’t yet fully faded.

Meanwhile, Wanda was barely holding on. Her upper half squirmed above you, helplessly trapped in your strong grip. Each time you got close enough for her to feel your breath on her neglected sex, she was sure she would break; everything felt too warm, too alive, body bathed in a steadily rising heat, Wanda could swear she was sweating bullets into the bed. She’d miscalculated how affected someone could be without being touched in those particular few areas. Wanda always thought the girls in videos she watched were playing it up for the camera and sure, a good number of them probably were, but the right person with the right actions could be world-changing no matter where they touched. “Please-”

“Please what? Stop?” If she could’ve managed it, Wanda would’ve screamed no. What came out instead was a desperate, barely audible plea— one that died out as soon as you brushed one final kiss to her cunt. You couldn’t help yourself, tongue darting out to taste the wet spot you very happily took credit for. Through the thin material, you could just make out the shape of her and you licked slowly, long, deliberate things that were way too easy to have looked up and seen Wanda’s mouth agape.

But everything always felt like more when it was new, and when your hand joined in, cupping her sex possessively, Wanda groaned out loud. “You got wet from this?” Instinctively, she nodded, ready to agree to whatever she needed to if you’d just let her cum. Inexperienced as she was, Wanda was so terribly precious and so responsive, you wished you’d done this sooner. “Between this and all your pretty little hidden freckles… I don’t think you’re nearly as innocent as you say.”

“I swear no one’s ever touched me before, oh god-” Wanda gasped, licking her lips as your thumb pressed into her, finding her clit as if you’d been given a map straight to it. She always knew she was sensitive, had obviously rubbed herself to orgasm a good handful of times before, but you were better, knew just how to edge her to let her see the edge of oblivion on the horizon for as long as you pleased.

You chuckled then, low and dark, a laugh you hadn’t meant to be seen as sinister; you were just enjoying the sweet and squirmy Wanda beneath you— but for her, something clicked, traitorous brain remembering the last thing she’d want to right now or ever again. The thought made her cringe and tense, the only thing she knew would ruin this moment if she didn’t confirm it for herself, “Where’s your phone?”

“My phone?” You had to stop and think, both the question and its answer stumping you, “I haven’t seen it since I came in. I think it’s on the kitchen table..” Wanda gathered just enough willpower to pat your pants pockets, giving all four of them her own thorough inspection as if your phone was suddenly more important than the sex she’d been hinting at wanting for weeks now. “Why do you care?”

You let her check until she was satisfied, watching Wanda exhale a heavy breath before flopping back onto the mattress, “Don’t worry about it.”

But you had that concerned look in your eye again, the same as nights ago right before you took her to the car and barely looked at her for days. Tonight though, she’d be damned if you left her like this again. She draped her arms around your neck, peppering your face with kisses before you could decide it was time to stop or give her space or some other dreadful end to your study session. “I’m sorry, it’s fine. I’m fine, you can uh.. continue now?”

Not the smoothest transition from such a sudden interruption, but you didn’t want to discourage anything that made her comfortable so you opted to let it slide. If she insisted she was alright, whatever it was, you could always ask later. “Oh yeah, you want me to continue?”

Wanda agreed immediately, wiggling her hips to coax your perfectly positioned hand to move once more. Now she’d had a taste of it and nothing would sate that incessant itch still running through your veins unless you were the one to do it for her. She’d had more than enough getting off by herself; she wanted to know what sex was like, what you were like. “Yes, keep going...”

“Can I hear you say please?” Your palm rubbed over her roughly, enough to leave Wanda whining, but not to push her over any edge. Yes, you teased her for being good, but only because you loved those qualities in the other woman. It was so sweet how intently she obeyed rules; you couldn’t not use that to your advantage.

She didn’t want to come off as needy, but that’s exactly what she was. Maybe in the future Wanda would push back more, insist that she didn’t want to beg, but for her present self, she’d do just about anything you asked. “Please…”

“What about..” It’d been too long without a kiss; a quick one for the sake of the last bits of your game, but nonetheless one Wanda chased when you pulled away, “Pretty please?” You could tell the only thing keeping the girl under you from having a fit was sliding your hand over her clit once more, something small for her to cling onto as you teased her into oblivion. Really you’d never met a girl so responsive, so sensitive, you hadn’t even gotten to take her underwear away before rendering her so needy.

“Please…pretty please, just touch me…” You were busy sucking a proper hickey into her neck when you finally slid two fingers into her panties, meeting her wet sex with a moan of your own. It was only a few rolls of your fingertips over her clit before Wanda was shaking, her thighs clamping unexpectedly around your hand, halting its movements before you had the chance to truly explore. There was some sadistic pleasure you got out of it, bringing Wanda to her end with so little effort— your darling little virgin to play with.

Her arms tightened impossibly around your neck, clutching you close while Wanda’s hips stuttered into the mattress. She wanted to love this orgasm, and to some extent she did, couldn’t deny that on a base level, it felt wonderful to release the tension the two of you’d built over the past several hours. But the higher, more aware pieces of Wanda were mortified for cumming so quickly just seconds after you’d first touched her. Stunned into silence, she waited for you to rip away and laugh at her or be mad that she’d lost so much control your fun was cut short.

Reality though, was much different, better, as Wanda quickly found out the embarrassment of it all turned her on a little bit more, mostly because you never actually stopped your examination. Persistent hands only drew further into her panties, gathering whatever wetness your fingers found and smoothing it over the smooth skin of her folds, “Poor little church girl, just got so worked up she couldn’t help herself…”

There was an argument to be made that maybe you were having too much fun, but when you caught sight of Wanda’s flushed cheeks, lips swollen and lipstick smudged from her own biting as well as yours, you had to rethink if there was such a thing as too much when it came to Wanda. “You’re blushing so hard I’d think you didn’t like this if I couldn’t feel how soaked you are.”

Your words did nothing to ease the deep red blossoming bright over her face and chest, but she couldn’t ignore you; you wouldn’t let her. Your free hand came to her jaw, a gentle nudge back in place to make her look at you— Wanda didn’t need force to be the good girl she inherently was.

“Gonna let me make you cum again?” Small circles over her sensitive bud brought Wanda back to attention, head nodding as she let her arms fall heavily to her sides. She’d have been content just like that in all honesty, without making her cum again and simply letting her swim in ecstasy until she fell off to sleep, but you wanted to show her what a real, on purpose orgasm felt like.

You moved on far too soon in her opinion, letting your wet fingers slide back and forth through her sex until Wanda was whimpering. Stroking over her weeping entrance earned you a surprised squeak, hand quick to grab your wrist and still it. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

Saying it aloud sounded silly; you knew she was a virgin and thanks to that silly never have I ever, you were well aware she’d masturbated before, but somehow it sounded worse to admit she’d never really put anything inside until now. “It’s just, well.. No one’s ever, I’ve never, done that.”

You thought back to that night of Carol’s party as best as you could, remembered their teasing about the vibrator and Wanda’s lack of response which now made perfect sense. And oh did that strengthen your resolve to fuck her all that much more. Sure, all of this was new to the girl, but there was something about being the first person ever to see Wanda in such a state, spread open and vulnerable underneath you, awakened some primal need. “I’ll make you feel so good, Wanda, promise… Can I be your first?”

It was sweet of you to ask, a little late after she’d just cum a few minutes prior, but Wanda let her hand drop anyway, accepted the reassuring set of kisses you planted from her ear to the corner of her mouth as you began circling over her tight ring of muscle yet again. She couldn’t deny how much she’d thought about it, especially in the past couple weeks as you’d infiltrated her late night fantasies, having thought about any multitude of ways you could finally fuck her. They ranged from soft and sweet to rough and dirty; sometimes you’d lay her back and hold her as you pushed however many fingers you wanted into her, others you bent her over the nearest surface, already wearing the strap on toy she knew for a fact was tucked away in your closet, taking her so possessively she wept.

Today had her leaning towards the first option, at least in actions. Words though, Wanda was much more flexible with those— even if she couldn’t make herself say fuck me right now. “Be gentle? Maybe only one at first…”

You mumbled your agreement, letting your middle finger sink into her entrance for the first time. She’d prepared herself for some sort of pain or discomfort and admittedly, the small intrusion was weird for the first minute or so. You pulled out, so far she thought you’d leave completely, but then you drove back in and as you set a steady pace, slow as it was, Wanda started to feel better about it. “That’s it, baby, there you go… relax for me.”

It was easier to move after she’d taken a deep breath, one Wanda wasn’t aware she was holding in, inhaling and exhaling as you pushed into her again and again. Eventually your hand shifted, angling differently as if you were searching for something; she intended to ask what you were doing, but then your fingertip ran against something deep and Wanda choked on her words.

You brushed against it lazily, giving the spot enough attention to catch your lover’s back arching, fighting the urge to start wiggling again too early, confirming it was just the place you were looking for. “Do you like it when I touch you there?”

This time when you stopped your hand, Wanda started moving her hips of her own accord, selfishly seeking out what you’d been able to find so easily. Vaguely she wondered if she’d muster up the courage to put her fingers inside herself next time she was on her own, was curious if she asked nicely enough would you show her how to do it. But no words left her mouth. And so your hand stayed motionless.

“Words, baby. Tell me what you like.” Partly just to hear her say it, but also to check in, needing to make sure you weren’t giving her too much too fast. Experienced as you were, you’d never taken anyone’s virginity before; you didn’t know how you’d forgive yourself if Wanda had a bad time because of you. She was all too special for that, whether you wanted to admit your feelings for her or not.

“I do like your fingers…” Somehow Wanda had drawn you close enough to give you kisses now, her previously unoccupied hands finding their way under your shirt while her lips stayed busy at the hollow of your throat. She didn’t know what she was doing really, had no idea if you even liked to be touched in such a way, but she took your faint moan next to her ear as a yes. “You can add another, if you want.”

“Yeah?” You moved your head just enough to make eye contact, her shy nod making your heart swell. When you pushed back in this time, two digits stretched her open, patient as the first one had been, but Wanda whined at the new full feeling just the same. She was so hot and silky smooth, it felt like heaven around your fingers, Wanda’s walls constricting around you as you finally began inching deeper, “You’re so tight, Wanda, fuck..”

Her legs fell further apart as you inched closer, driving your fingers deeper on every stroke. Now you angled yourself purposefully, pressing into your new discovery until Wanda was gasping and panting. “Can you hear how wet you are? All I needed to do was fill you up a bit and you’ve gone all gushy and submissive, huh?”

A finger pressed to her lips silenced her long enough to force Wanda to listen to the obscene noises of you fucking into her, slick enough to coat your fingers and drip down the curve of her ass; she was sobbing with need by the time your thumb met her abandoned clit again. Wanda didn’t think the naughtiness of this should be affecting her nearly as much as it was, but she was far too gone to care. She felt bad and she loved it, already craved the next time you could make her feel this way. “Oh god, yes… please please-”

“Shh, I’ve got you, princess, go on and let me see you cum again.” It was too close to the words she’d imagined you saying for so long; paired with the coordinated curls of your fingers and rubs over her stuff bud, Wanda was falling all over again. Harder the second time, uninhibited moans and mewls echoing off the walls of her bedroom as her hips jerked and she clung to you. Diligently, you moved with her as she rode each new wave, letting her savor her first real orgasm at the hands of another person. It was amazing really, how beautiful she could look with her face all scrunched, forehead covered in the thinnest sheen of sweat, but the more you looked, the more you realized it was just Wanda you cared about.

No matter what she looked like, how she was, what she’d done or not done, you liked her so much you swore you could feel her tug at your heartstrings. “Such a pretty princess, what a good girl you are…”

Wanda never wanted you to stop talking to her, each new praise sending another aftershock through her oversensitive form. You took your fingers away before any pleasure could turn into pain, but she refused to let you free, even when you tried to get up. “Don’t leave yet.”

“I’m not leaving, I was just going to get you cleaned up.” She mumbled an okay, but still held on for a few minutes and you let her, ignoring the strain being bent over your knees brought to your lower back. You spent your time kissing over whatever bits of her neck and shoulder you could reach until Wanda released you, finally letting you sit up and stretch.

There was only silence as you peeled her wrinkled skirt and soaked underwear from her hips and down her legs, taking them with you to discard in her desk chair before grabbing her current pair of pajama shorts from the top of her dresser where she folded them each morning. The closest sweatshirt was the one she seemed to have permanently borrowed from you and so that returned back to the bed with you. You supposed you could’ve asked to borrow a pair of her sweatpants instead of just shedding your own on the ground and climbing back over to her, but your only thoughts were on how uncomfy yours had become and getting Wanda a new set of her own.

“Can you sit up for me, sweetheart?” She did, slow as molasses, leaning heavily on your shoulders as soon as you switched her sweater for your hoodie. You were gentle in setting her back down in case she didn’t control her own fall, guiding her head into her pillow to make sure she didn’t hit it on anything else. “It’s not late yet and you’re so tired.”

It was a gentle tease, both of you knowing full well why she felt so spent, but for Wanda who’d never experienced such a sleepy post-sex haze, she didn’t have the willpower to fight something so blissful. “Does that mean cuddling with me is a no for now?”

You laughed at that, lifting her bottom half to let her shorts settle fully in place. “When have I ever said no to that?” Settling next to her was easy, Wanda rolling over until she was cozily plastered to your side, arms and legs wrapping around you like a koala. Smoothing her hair out as she rested her head on your chest, tranquility settled over you both, leaving Wanda to her many thoughts.

For as hyped as it was, Wanda didn’t really feel any different. Relaxed and sated, a pleasurable lingering throb between her legs, yes, but not dissimilar to the person she woke up as this morning. The biggest shift she felt was with you, your gentle coos and endearing massages to her back, hand having snuck under her sweatshirt just to prolong skin to skin contact; you were different to her. Not that you’d ever been rough with her, but there was some new level of intimacy that remained unlabeled, neither of you willing to speak up and address it.

“So..” She didn’t know where to start, what to talk about after having someone buried knuckle deep inside her, “That was something…”

“Certainly was,” Of all things, you weren’t surprised such casualness would come from her lips first; this was Wanda you were dealing with. Sweet, lovely Wanda Maximoff. “Something good? Unless you hated it-”

“No! Not at all, I really really liked it,” Unchanged as she felt, none of it meant Wanda was uninterested in sex, quite the opposite really. Now that the first hurdle was over, she felt freer to test out more; she’d started to believe she’d never get to try it out. Maybe now, with you who was so willing to take her how she is, you’d explore right along with her. “I’d put it in the great category, at least.”

“Oof, just great? What an ego blow,” You faux pouted, sighing dramatically as Wanda clamored atop you. As much as you’d loved seeing your doctor game play out, it meant nothing if Wanda went away unsatisfied, but if her wide grin and rosy cheeks were any indicator, she enjoyed herself just fine and that was a true job well done.

It was her turn to fix you now, tickling your sides until you cracked a smile and kissing your jaw. Wanda hadn’t expected you to be any kind of insecure about your abilities, not when you’d been so patient with her, kind enough to not only indulge her in the sex she desired, but also check in and make sure she was alright. She didn’t think she could fall for you more than she had, but today you’d proven her so very wrong. “Fine, it was more than great. It was the best orgasm I’ve ever had and I can’t wait to do it again. Happy?”

“Oh? Can’t wait, huh?” The brunette shook her head, hips pressing down against yours suggestively. She was more than aware you hadn’t gotten to cum, didn’t know how to offer that to you, but hopefully if she hinted enough you’d catch on. You squeezed her sides, let her rock slowly back and forth, greedily taking the small amount of friction to soothe your pent up need. There was no way you’d have predicted she’d give any thought to you on her first time, but again, it shouldn’t have shocked you when your new lover was an always caring Wanda. “I thought you were about to take a nap.”

“You said it yourself, it’s early…” Wanda bent until she could rest her elbows on either side of you, rutting her pelvis down to yours more insistently now. After a few moments, you did start guiding her motions, selfishly moving her at the pace that felt best to you. Neglecting to put new underwear on Wanda meant there weren’t many layers between the two of you, both losing yourselves quickly to the heat growing from being pressed together.

If you’d stayed like that for the rest of the evening, you’d be the happiest student on campus, perhaps just long enough to find your own orgasm. But as it was, you were barely on the precipice of hitting that high when Wanda’s phone chimed from across the room. She jumped away from you as if whoever was calling could see what was happening and you groaned, more needy than irritated, but Wanda was already leaping out of bed.

Only three people tended to call her: you, who was clearly preoccupied at the moment; Pietro, but he always texted first to make sure she wasn’t busy; and her father, who called out of the blue and worried himself sick when Wanda didn’t pick up the phone. As she approached her desk, the picture of her and him together on the day he’d first dropped her off to college lit up the screen and she knew it was him. “Hi, papa! Yes yes, I’m doing perfectly fine…”

You didn’t understand most of the conversation, Wanda flowing in and out of Sokovian as she told him she was okay and easily lied about being engrossed in homework as to why she hadn’t answered the phone immediately. She paced back and forth over the carpet as they discussed something you’d made out to be related to home, the call only ending because Wanda insisted that although she wanted to talk more, she had to get back to her studying. Her face lit up then and you assumed he must’ve given her some praising comment, Wanda’s smile always hopelessly wide when she felt proud of herself.

Signing off with an I love you too, Wanda hung up and pursed her lips before turning your way with a forlorn look. “What’s up?”

As soon as you sat up, opening her arms to beckon her back over, Wanda made her way to you, settling on her mattress with her legs thrown over your lap. “My dad misses me,” She supposed she really shouldn’t complain, not when she truly did love him so much, but he stressed so much it in turn made her worry about him and if her absence was more of a burden than something for him to be proud of. “I said I’d visit this weekend, but I don’t have a car which means he always has to come pick me up and drive back and I hate making him do that.”

“I’ll drive you.” The words were out of your mouth before you processed them, having offered up your services without Wanda even asking for your help. You didn’t regret saying it; you wanted to see Wanda’s town where she and most everyone you knew grew up, curious about her childhood home Wanda always spoke of so fondly.

“And make you do the same thing, only twice? No, that’s not fair.” Wanda couldn’t ask you to do that; she really should learn to drive one of these days. Technically she did know how, but she’d never bothered to get her full license; she never had anywhere to go that she couldn’t walk to or get Pietro to drive her. She’d never expected her dad would insist on coming to pick her up to spend time with her so often and she was too polite to tell him it was too much, not that he’d ever listen.

“Well..” You nuzzled into her cheek, wanting to rouse Wanda from her worries and keep her mood light. Besides wanting to explore Westview, a part of you resented having to spend a whole weekend without Wanda so soon and you were loath to admit you’d be bored on your own. “If your dad wouldn’t mind a guest, maybe I could spend the weekend with you?”

She twisted to face you then, eyes wide with disbelief. No one ever came to her house for her; to ask about Pietro or wonder if the local priest was available for impromptu advice, but never just.. for Wanda. “You want to go home with me… and stay?”

“Unless you think your dad would mind, but otherwise sure, why not. We could leave tomorrow after class and drive back on Sunday, that’s what you’ve done before, right?” So far this school year, Wanda's only been home once, an uncharacteristic drop from the nearly every weekend she’d gone in the past few years of college. The excuse she’d used was you, her father having heard so much about you from how Wanda cited her plans with you as to why she was busy so often.

Even so, he was always excited for her, happy his daughter had someone to spend so much time with, and Wanda knew he wouldn’t have any problems getting to finally meet you. Her concern was if you’d run for the hills as soon as you met him and his overbearing ways. “Just... bring nice clothes, okay? If you wear too many t-shirts and ripped jeans, he’ll accuse me of making friends with some girl version of my brother.”

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff fluff #confessions au.#motts writes.#maximotts

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writingquestionsanswered · 5 months

Text

Writer Torn Between MC's Two Worlds

king-ofconfusion asked: I'm struggling with my story's ordinary world. The MC discovers they're from a magical world and finds their original family, but I'm not sure what to do with the MC's adoptive family. He's 20 and in college, so it's not like he needs permission to leave or there's anything blocking him from going, but I feel weird having him abandon the world he was raised in, and I don't feel like he'd lie to his loved ones about his other life. Having him tell his adoptive mom the truth and "peace out" feels very flat.

[ask heavily edited for length and content]

I see a lot of different options here...

1 - Outright Honesty/Peace Out - I don't think this is such a weird idea, actually. I have heard of international adoptees locating their birth family as an adult and leaving their adoptive country to return to their homeland/birth family. Whether or not they maintain contact and visits with their birth family depends on the relationship, but many do. On that same note, Outlander comes to mind, where there's all sorts of back and forth between worlds with the intention of never returning (of course, they always inadvertently do), but there are fated couples who "part forever" out of necessity, parents and children who "part forever" out of necessity, friends and family members who "part forever" out of necessity... and if it's good enough for a book series that has sold 50-million copies worldwide and is the basis of a popular TV series, you're in good shape. So, I think the honesty/"I need to return to my homeland" option is perfectly reasonable, especially if they can promise to keep in touch and/or visit.

2 - Necessary White Lie/Cover Story - If you're worried about the MC lying to their ordinary world family because it's out of character or you're not a fan of this kind of lie, you could always make it a necessary lie. For example, maybe the MC is warned that this fantasy can't be revealed to ordinary world dwellers. Or, maybe the MC is simply afraid that his family might sacrifice everything and follow them into the fantasy world, face danger, etc. You can definitely come up with a reason. And then being at college provides the perfect cover story. If the character can travel between worlds, you could even have them periodically return for a few days to catch up on homework, sit in on important lectures/exams, or zoom through online classes. Maybe they say they're taking half a course load so they can intern somewhere (and maybe here you can work whatever they're doing in the fantasy world into something that sounds like an applicable ordinary world job they could be shadowing). I think with some brainstorming, there are good options here.

3 - Ordinary Family is From Magical World - Another option, if it would work, would be for the adoptive "ordinary world" family to actually be from the magical world. If it would work with the MC's birth story and whatever led to them being placed in the fantasy world, maybe instead of being placed with an ordinary world family, they were sent to the ordinary world with a magical world family who is just waiting for them to be old enough to return to their rightful place. Or, you could even hybrid a little here, and maybe the MC was sent with a magical world adoptive mom or dad to the ordinary world, and there the magical world parent met an ordinary world love interest, and they started an ordinary world family together. That way, the MC's family can already have a foot in both worlds, and you can have the ordinary world parent already know the situation. That way, the MC can return to the magical world, but maybe communicate through the other family member (who maybe can travel back and forth or has powers that allows for the communication, or whatever.) Again, lots of possibilities.

I hope something here will work for you! ♥

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littlesniggy · 11 months

Text

Tying a knot

Soooooo....I'm not back but I really wanted to write this so yeah....hope you like it. Reader is a new recruit in the marines and is actually doing pretty well....if it wasn't for those stupid knots.

Warnings: modern day AU, military AU, dub-c, power dynamics, older man x younger woman, reader is fresh out of high school but over 18, swearing, slightly ns.fw

Pairing: Admiral Sakazuki x female recruit reader

Word count: 4.4k

When you pictured yourself in the future you always thought you’d go to college, get a job, settle down, have some kids, and live the rest of your life together with your husband on some lone range in the middle of nowhere, your grandkids running around while your kids prepare the Sunday dinner in your kitchen while you hold hands with your husband and reflect on what a blessed life you’ve had.

Or maybe you would’ve pursued your carrier, made a fortune by inventing something crazy useful or made the right investment at the right time and by the age of 35 you would’ve been so rich that you never had to lift a finger for the rest of your life. You could’ve traveled abroad, see the world and see where the wind carries you.

The harsh reality hits you when your commanding officer screams into your face, his spit landing in your open mouth by default since you are breathing heavily. Your muscles are burning and you’re not sure anymore if it’s because of the thousands of sit ups you’ve been forced to do or because you ate something funny (the food is really not the best and you’re not sure how long some of the cans have been hidden in the cabinets, forgotten until the canteen lady unsuspectingly found it and decided it was still edible).

“MOVE. YOUR. ASS! We’re not in sissy camp, recruit!” he yells, more spit landing on your face. Sweat is covering your entire body, your brown shirt and pants soaking wet, coloring it a shade darker than it actually is. You grunt and follow is order, trying to move faster but everything is simply burning. Your officer luckily moves on to the person next to you to scream at him as well.

If you remember correctly his name is Cody. You saw him briefly at the briefing in week one but haven’t really noticed him ever since. Apparently, he is also still trying to become a marine, taking the 8 week training camp as seriously as you are.

The whistle blows and everyone is collapsing on the hard ground, loud panting and groaning can be heard over the entire training ground. “Two-minute break! Then we’ll go over to push-ups!” your commanding officer yelled. Internally your groan in frustration but instead shield your eyes from the burning sun above you to get some shade. Once again, you’re contemplating why you chose this path in life and not the ones you’ve dreamt of when you were younger.

It's not that you are stupid. Rather the opposite. You studied hard to get into university after high school, had a high GPA and all the ambitions to succeed. The only thing you didn’t have was money or a scholarship. Your parents couldn’t afford to send you to college and for some reason you also couldn’t land any scholarships. Contemplating if you should apply to universities anyways or not your uncle mentioned that you could join the military for a couple of years and they would then pay for your studies. So, that’s what you decided to do. Taking online classes is the best possible option but they won’t start before September and you had to survive the first 8 weeks of this hell hole first.

You roll over onto your stomach and reach for the bottle of water to take a big sip before you have to do a shit ton of sit-ups.

“Listen up! Tomorrow we will have a high-ranking visitor at our compound. Your orders are to behave at your best, to not complain and to fulfill every task given to you! Not that it’s any different from any other day but I won’t have you lot embarrass us in front of admiral Sakazuki!” a nervous murmur can be heard amongst the recruits, earning everyone a “Shut the fuck up!”.

“He and vice admiral Garp will stay until the end of week 4 when you will take your second academic test. I don’t need to remind you to study for this test since you will not be able to continue your carrier in the navy unless you pass all tests!” he reminds you all.

Thinking back you noticed some faces didn’t return after the first test but you didn’t really pay it any mind. You scored in the top 10% and are more than content with it. You are also not too concerned about the second test since the questions asked are not too hard anyways.

“That is all. Dismissed!” the officer yells and immediately stalks off. You and the rest of the new recruits slowly make your way over to the shacks where you share everything with one another. No privacy, only the bathrooms and showers are separated by sex which you are very grateful for.

After taking a shower you feel much better; still sore but much better. “Dinner” is served exactly at 1830 (630 pm) and if you’re later you won’t get anything to eat and have to wait until the next morning. One of your new friends here made this experience the very first day because he was late. You didn’t really feel bad for him since they said not even 6 hours prior when breakfast, lunch and dinner will be served so it was really only his fault. You have no idea why you engaged in conversation with him since he did nothing but complain that night but you somehow became friends and have sticked together since then.

“What do you think about admiral Sakazuki coming tomorrow, Y/n?” you look up from your food at Rosinante and shrug. “It’s kinda surprising for him to come here. Maybe he has some business to attend to near the base or even on here….” You muse and take a bite of your meat (?) which tastes just like a show. Rosinante hums and watches your face contort in slight disgust at the taste and texture of the food. “You might be right. Still, I haven’t heard anything good from him.” His voice is hushed as to not attract too much attention.

“Ever since he’s become an admiral some missions abroad have been somewhat….” He pauses, trying to think of the appropriate word.

“Questionable?” you finish and he nods in agreement. “Yes, questionable.” He agrees and also takes a bite before spitting it back out. “Disgusting.” He huffs and you smile at him.

“I heard he’s planned some reform for the marines.” Surprised, you turn around to look at none other than Koby who is sitting right behind you. “I’m sorry for eavesdropping.” He apologizes with a small smile but you wave it off. “No worries.” You assure him, also inviting him to continue.

“I’ve heard some of the officers talk about him visiting another training ground and he personally threw out some of the new recruits even though they passed the tests. They don’t know why but ever since he’s been promoted the atmosphere within the navy has changed.” He informs you. Both you and Rosinante gulp at the story. Sure, there is always the possibility that you might fail a test but being thrown out even after you passed?

“This almost seems personal…” you murmur and the others nod in agreement.

“Guess that’s why commander prick seemed a little nervous earlier today.” Rosinante muses. You stay silent, following your own train of thought regarding this revelation.

You need to pass all the tests and become a marine. This is one of the only ways to pursue your academic carrier without falling into a crushing amount of debt. This visit might be a bigger problem than initially expected.

You are used being yelled at. You are used being spit at. You are also (unfortunately) being used to indecent touches by some of your male comrades. All of this you can look past; you know how to deal with it, are not getting intimidated or flustered by any of it. But this is different.

You have met a lot of different people in your life; some demand more, some demand less authority when entering a room but you have never, ever in your life met anyone who had such a dangerous and commanding aura like the admiral. The moment he stepped onto the training compound your blood ran cold. Chills covered your skin and your stomach dropped. Since now you have never seen anyone as dangerous or a threat. Call it privileged but despite your poor family you were raised pretty well in a surprisingly good neighborhood and there were not a lot of potentially dangerous people in your area.

You want to look down when his eyes muster the recruits but you know you are not allowed to. This is an entirely new situation and, quite frankly, you have no idea how to behave. And you don’t like it.

Out of the corners of your eyes you can see that your fellow recruits are feeling the same and you feel some kind of relief. At least you’re not the only one.

“When I look at you, I feel disappointed.” His voice is gravely and sends another shiver down your spine. It also makes you listen up even more. This is not a good start for a speech.

“I visited other bases before and I came to the conclusion that the navy will have to be more selective with new recruits. It should be a privilege to serve in the navy and people should act accordingly. That is why I will personally conduct interviews tomorrow with each and every one of you. If you’re not convincing, you can go back home. That’s all. Dismissed!”

There is a long stretch of silence where nobody dares to move, even long after he is out of view. Even the officers are speechless, but not for too long.

“You heard him! So, you better prepare tonight! We will also be judging you on your progress today so you better get your act together!”

You don’t have problems with neither the physical training nor with the academic part but something you certainly are not skilled at is knot-tying. It seems so easy – everybody else can do it – but you can’t to get your head around the right way to tie this stupid knot. You’re constantly yelled by your officers and it also doesn’t help that the admiral and the vice admiral (who you’ve seen for the first time today at knot-tying practice) are watching you with sharp eyes. Or at least the admiral is, vice-admiral Garp is idly chatting with some of the lower ranking marines.

A frustrated groan leaves your mouth when this stupid rope keeps loosening up every time you’re about to tighten it. “Fucking stupid shitty rope….!” You mumble under your breath and are about to start over again when a large shadow is covering the light coming from the lamp above. You look up, ready to be yelled at again when your body turns to stone.

You’re looking at the admiral himself, his arms crossed in front of his chest and a displeased look on his face. Everyone around you is silent, shooting stealthy looks in your direction. “I suggest looking for a different carrier when you’re not even capable of tying a simple knot, recruit.” He says and stretches out one hand expectantly. You have to forces your body to move and to give him the rope, your hand briefly brushing against his bigger one.

You can only watch his massive hands deftly tie the knot you’ve been struggling with, somewhat amazed at how easy it is. With a loud thud he puts the knot down in front of you on the table, an arrogant look in his eyes. “I’ll keep this in mind for the interview tomorrow, recruit.” His words are nothing short of a threat and you feel dizzy. That you’re entire future depends on this asshole and a fucking knot is ridiculous! You look down at the perfectly tied knot and ignore the admiral disappearing.

You are usually not nervous before interviews but today is different. You feel like throwing up and your hands are shaking. Not only will you be stepping in front of Sakazuki very soon but he will also decide on your future. Some of your comrades have already come back but so far none of them seems to have been kicked out. Nevertheless, they looked terrified.

Another thing that bothers you is that you can’t anticipate how long the interview will be. Some of the others came out after 10 minutes, others stayed inside for 20-30 minutes. No way the admiral will be able to interview each and every one of you in a single day.

The door opens and Koby comes out, his face pale as a ghost. You look at him concerned but he simply sighs in slight relief. “Good luck”, he whispers as he slowly walks away.

“Y/n!” you’re being called into the room. As soon as you enter, the door is being shut behind you and you’re alone with admiral Sakazuki sitting on the opposite side of the room at a big desk.

He is wearing the standard dark blue admiral uniform but no tie. All his medals are decorating the left side of his chest and you wonder what one needs to do to earn so many awards within the navy.

You stand in front of the door, whole body straight and a (hopefully) stern look on your face. Sakazuki looks up at you after opening a file – your file, supposedly.

“Sit.” He orders you and without hesitation you follow his command and sit down on the opposite side of the table, taking your hat off.

Sakazuki looks at you for a moment before looking down at your file.

“So, recruit.” He begins, not even bothering to read your name even though your file is right in front of him. “I’ve read your file. Good academic carrier so far.” He remarks but you don’t feel complimented. You know there is coming more.

“Thank you, sir.” You reply regardless.

“What made you join the marines and not go to university?” you knew this questions would come and you have thought about the right answer all night. You wanted to tell the truth but you decided against it last minute.

“I want to serve our country and give back to this great nation.” You reply instead, swallowing the lump in your throat. There is a short silence in the room before the admiral huffs.

“Serve our country….give back to the nation….stop bullshitting me.” You freeze at his words and his harsh eyes bore right into you.

“S-sir?” you dare to ask.

“I asked you why you wanted to join the navy after school and I expect an honest answer. You’re already on thin ice. One wrong step and you’re gone….” He mused, his eyes never leaving yours. The fight or flight instinct wanted to kick in but you desperately tried to suppress it. Neither would serve you good in this situation unless you wanted to lose face completely.

“I-“ you cleared your throat before starting over again. “I wanted to go to university. But it wasn’t meant to be. So I decided to join the navy. I plan on taking online classes later in my carrier but right now I am entirely focused on my training and becoming a good marine.

“A good marine should be able to tie a simple knot.” You couldn’t help but look away as your face heats up in embarrassment. You hear him move and pull something out of a drawer. When you look up you see a long rope in front of you on the table.

“How would you tie an enemy’s hands when you’ve captured them and have only this rope?” you know you learnt this the other day but by God you can’t remember!

You take the rope in your hands, looking lost but you decide to improvise. Maybe you’d be lucky…

You start to cross both ends to start tying the rope but Sakazuki interrupts you. “Try it on me.” His suggestion is much more an order than anything else. You want to protest but he has already placed both hands on top of the table in front of you.

You don’t want to tie his hands together; mostly because you are scared to touch the man in front of you. But you have no other choice. You reach out and take both his hands into yours; his palms are warm and calloused, the rough patches brushing against your own hands. You slide the rope underneath his hands and start winding the rope around them. You know this is wrong, you know there is a right way but you simply can’t remember.

The admiral watches you and lets you finish, his expression unreadable but you know you messed up once again. When you tighten the tow ends and look up at him you are met with a disappointed and annoyed look. You press your lips together and wait for his judgement. He lifts up his hands so both of you can take a good look.

“Tell me what you did wrong, recruit.” He demands. You look at your work but remain silent. Frustrated with you lack of answer Sakazuki simply flexes his arms and hands and rips the rope apart, freeing his hands in the process.

“This was a sad excuse of a knot but an even sadder excuse of an aspiring marine. You want to defend this country?” he huffs derogatorily and you shrink into yourself.

“First of all, you never tie an enemy’s hands in front of them. Always on the back.” He gets up, grabbing a second rope from the drawer and rounds the table. You slightly glare up at him. Of course, this was a set-up. He deliberately placed his hands in front of him on the table and not behind his back.

“I must’ve misunderstood the assignment, sir. I thought you simply wanted me to tie your hands.” You admit but this answer is no good.

“The order was clear, recruit. Tie my hands like I was an enemy. Would you tie an enemy’s hands like this?” you shake your head.

“This is pathetic.” He mumbles. Suddenly, his hand grabs your hair, pulls you from the chair and presses your flat on the table. You gasp surprised and instinctively try to push yourself back up but the admiral has both your hands already grabbed behind your back, holding them in an iron grip as his free hand slides around your wrists.

It doesn’t even take 10 seconds and your hands are tightly tied. You squirm underneath him, trying to get up but your tied hands combined with a single hand that is lightly pressing down between your shoulder blades is preventing you from getting away.

“This is how you subdue an enemy.” You try to look at him over your shoulder but his hand moves to your head back again and presses your face onto the surface. You gasp, your legs kicking backwards to hit him but he steps closer and presses his body against yours. To be precise, he presses his legs against the back of your thighs, preventing you from moving at all.

You struggle against your restrains but his grip only becomes harder. “Fuck!” You breathe out frustrated and give up, accepting your defeat and the likely end of your military carrier.

“Pathetic.” He comments but lets go of you, pulling you from the table and onto your feet. You feel humiliated but suppress the tears that threaten to form in your eyes. You will not let him see your defeat, not Sakazuki.

“You should just quit and save yourself from further humiliation which will come.” He says demeaning but you shake your head, “All due respect, sir, but I will not quit.” To underline your point you turn around to face him, the slight glistering of tears could vaguely be made out but either Sakazuki doesn’t see it or he ignores it.

“I can be useful and I know I will be of value. I will not quit.” You look right into his cold eyes. Sakazuki remains silent for a moment before he steps forwarder, forcing you back and to bump against the table with the back of your thigh.

“What will happen if you get captured?” he asks you, stepping another step forward and leaning forward deliberately slowly. You lean back instinctively, swallowing hard. You are not comfortable with this close proximity.

“Will you be able to keep your mouth shut and not rat out your comrades?” he leans down further, forcing you to back up even more until your back is lying on the table again.

Sakazuki places both hands next to your head, trapping you between his body and the table.

“Y-yes, sir.” You affirm his question, forcing yourself to keep the eye contact.

“Is that so? Even if they torture you?” his right hand traces down your arm until he reaches your hip. The warmth of his hand radiates through the fabric. It’s almost burning hot and makes you squirm under his touch.

“Even if they do unspeakable things to you?” he continues, his hand moving upwards, riling your shirt up in the process, exposing your soft skin to his gaze.

You let out a long breath you didn’t know you were holding, body slightly shaking under his touch. “Yes, sir.” You affirm once again, your heart hammering inside your chest. Sakazuki’s eyes slowly leave yours and instead travel down your body, taking in the curves of your breasts and then the exposed skin on your stomach.

You have so many different feelings racing inside your mind but the most prominent one is what is he going to do? Is this even legal?

The admiral leans down, his mouth brushing against the shell of your ear, his hot breath against your neck. Your body heats up when a low groan rumbles through his body, revibrating against yours. His hand traces your naked skin up, inching closer to your breasts. Your body arches against his touch and you have the urge to wrap your legs around his waist. You know your pussy is wet from his short ministration and you want to be touched.

However, there is this small part in your head that screams at you that this is a trap. But this tiny voice keeps being pushed to the side with every touch from his big hand. You sigh and let your head fall to the side when his hand pushes underneath your sports bra and starts fondling your breast.

A thin sheen of sweat has formed over your skin and you feel the heat inside your body. How did it come to this? This was supposed to be nothing but an interview! You know this isn’t right, but fuck! – his mere presence makes you feel things that should be forbidden!

Your mind is racing, trying to form a single thought but Sakazuki won’t let you. You feel his body shift, his legs nudging your legs apart and he presses his body between you. Your eyes open wide and you can’t hold back the moan anymore as his penis presses against you, hard and hot. Your hips rut up against his, wanting more friction.

The admiral raises his body to look down at your flustered form, his right hand buried underneath your shirt.

“So pathetic. As soon as some man shows you some kind of attention you crumble like a cookie. Look at you. You’re so needy you will even risk your carrier to get that dick.” As if to emphasize his words he thrusts his hips forward against yours, forcing another gasp from your lips.

Sakazuki lets go of your breast and pulls his hand out from underneath your shirt, leaving you breathless and flustered. Your slowly turn your head to look at him, his eyes giving no indication of his erect penis between your legs.

“I am not pathetic….” You mumble. You don’t know why you said that but it was the only thing on your mind you could communicate with the marine above you.

“And if I am then you’re as pathetic as I am.” You add, bracing for what’s about to come. Sakazuki lifts an eyebrow, surprised at your reply.

“Care to explain why?” you swallow hard but know there is no going back.

“You are the one who initiated this. You are the one who felt the need to touch me. And you’re as aroused as I am.” Now it was your time to emphasize your words by pressing your hips against his. The admiral doesn’t answer right away, he simply stares at you. Then, the corner of his lips slightly lifts up, indicating a smile.

“Gotta admit, you’re braver than you look.” He steps back, giving you some room but also robbing you of that sweet pressure between your legs.

He pulls down your shirt, deliberately brushing against your breasts one last time before he pulls you up by your arm.

He steps between your legs once again and reaches around you, his muscular body pressing against yours while his hands reach around you to untie your restraints. You sheepishly breathe in his cologne, his musk reminding you once again of the wetness between your legs.

When your hands are free again, he drops the rope on your lap and returns back to his seat behind the desk.

“Come to my office tonight after dinner.” He simply says without looking up, your file occupying his attention again.

“Why?” you dare to ask. Sakazuki glances up at you, his eyebrow raised once again.

“You are brave, not stupid, aren’t you? Follow my orders and we will get along well.” He simply said and waved his hand dismissively at you to leave. You murmur a “Yes, sir” and slowly make your way over to the door.

“Oh, and one last thing, recruit. Bring that rope with you. I think I need to teach you some more knots.” Your face heats up one last time, your hand clutches around the fabric, and you hurriedly open the door to leave his office.

What the fuck did just happen?!

#one piece #op #op x reader #one piece x reader #op Sakazuki #one piece sakazuki #akainu #Akainu x reader #Sakazuki x reader #female reader #dub.con #op x female reader #older man x younger woman #slightly ns.fw

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ellsjoint · 3 months

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Demosthenes Part 1 - Ellie Williams x Reader

Synopsis: Two British university students decide to go to their online friends’ university – what could go wrong? A lot, considering the reader has absolutely no social skills.

A/N: Hi! This is my first TLOU fanfic, and I haven't written fanfiction in years so I hope this is good. This part's pretty much just setting the scene, there's no interaction with Ellie and the reader YET (and it's short as)... But I hope you enjoy this for now! P.S I won't be writing any smut in this just because I don't want to, and at parts this is pretty much just going to be a comedy and me imagining me and my best friend being awkward in this situation.

Future Content: college!ellie, loser!ellie maybe, slow burn, angst (because I'm funny like that), fluff, not really sure yet but we'll see!

Your POV:

This conversation had repeated itself time and time again for the last month.

‘At this point, why not?’ your best friend laughed lightly, ‘this place is a shithole. We should put ourselves out there!’.

‘Do you really think going to uni with these people you’ve never even met is a good idea?’ you stared at them, shaking your head. ‘My family’s here, my dance team’s here, all the small gigs I do are here. Everything is here - I can’t just drop that.’ To you, the idea was laughable. How could you just move across the globe to what, play house with your best friends’ online friends that you’d spoken to maybe once? It seemed silly, and you knew you’d struggle to interact with new people – not because of any form of anxiety you had, but because you sucked at socialising to the extent that you just stopped at one point. Some people didn’t even know you could speak, whereas those you were closer with (like your close friends and dance team) were well aware of your predicament.

‘That’s why you should go! Bro, you hardly speak to anyone here. In a new environment, you could just… I don’t know, maybe try and develop some social skills? Plus, they’ll be starting their first year too.’ your friend shrugged. ‘Please! It’ll be so much fun! Oh, and you can visit your family, and your family can visit you! And there’s probably another dance team at this uni!’ They continued to ramble, trying to persuade you that dropping everything would be worth it. You weren’t exactly convinced, even if you did think her friends seemed okay from the little you had seen of them from your friend’s phone screen.

Continuing to mull the idea over in your head, your friend continued to rant about the situation. ‘You’ve talked to them once! Give them a chance. They think you’re suuuper cool, which is why you should come! You’d be iconic at their uni. And the girls would be all over you! Maybe Ellie would. Did you know Ellie’s gay?’ You’d seen what, 2 memes that this Ellie person had sent your friend on their phone? You knew literally nothing about her other than a portion of her humour.

‘Good for Ellie…?’ you sighed. You knew they weren't going to stop.

‘Come on, you need to give the world a chance. This would be so good for you to just get yourself out there!’ your friend pleaded. Of course, they tried to focus on its benefits for you (repeating theirself in the process) instead of the large benefit it would have for them – a meeting with their online friends. ‘Please, I don’t want to go by myself. I can’t leave my best friend, and think about it, all my friends getting on? That would be so cool.’

Once again, you let out another sigh, before nodding. ‘Fine, I’ll try it. But if I don’t like it, I’m going home.’

Your friend let out an excited squeal, and you stared at her, a deadpan look on your face. What were you signing yourself up to? Nobody knew, and only time could tell.

#ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x reader #the last of us #tlou #fanfic #fanfiction #ellie williams #demosthenesellsjoint

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jiminjamms · 1 year

Note

How do you write so beautifully? It's so well written. Do you read a lot? Do you have any tips?

Thank you! Some general tips I have when writing fanfiction:

1) Read a lot! I like analyzing the styles and plots of other writers, and usually, I get inspired from reading when I'm stuck with writer's block.

2) Create a doc on your computer for your favorite lines. Occasionally, I refer to these compiled scenes that I love and ask myself: what makes these snippets so good?

3) Outline your plots and subplots. Draw inspiration from movies, personal life experiences, college-era daydreams, pov tiktoks, slowed+reverb songs...anything.

4) Utilize online writing resources. My favorites are Grammarly (proofreader), Thesaurus.com (self-explanatory), Rhymezone (for descriptive words), and Words to Use Instead of 'Said.'

5) Don't be afraid to fail. From spending many hours writing scenes that would never get published to being disappointed when a posted chapter didn't perform as well as expected, these blips are inevitable. Yet, the most important consideration is: did you have fun?

Hope these help! :)

#jamms.answers #jamms.thoughts #writing #writer #creative writing #writing advice #writing tips #writing resources #fanfic #fanfiction

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pigeonflavouredcake · 8 months

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How to reference in your grimoire

If you intend on sharing your grimoire with the public or you're a fan of a more academic style of writing then you're gonna want to reference your sources to avoid any kind of plagiarism.

You may have already learned how to reference at your college/uni, in which case follow that method, but if you haven't let me show you what i've been doing in my grimoire.

The referencing style I was taught in my degree is a form of APA 7th edition. This style is best for essays and small research papers and since my grimoire is essentially a bunch of mini contextual essays stuck together I thought it was appropriate.

Here's the format:

Author Surname, Author Initials. (Date of publication/release). Title of source: sub-heading/title of chapter. Publishing company/website. Place of publication/website link. [Format]

So for example, the book I'm currently reading is Buried by Professor Alice Roberts. If I were to reference this book in this format it would look something like this:

Roberts, A. (2023). Buried, An Alternative History of The First Millennium in Britain: Water and Wine. Simon and Schuster. London. [Book]

(Its up to you whether you decide to put the chapter before the book title, it doesn't make a difference, but I prefer doing it this way.)

This reference will need to follow an in-text citation. You can do that by adding a little number in parentheses next to your quote or paraphrase that corresponds to the number on your list of references OR you can make a mini reference following this method:

(Author Surname, Author Initials. (Date of publication). Page number if required)

So following this method an in-text citation would look like this:

(Roberts, A. (2023). p1)

Tips

If you are citing a source with multiple authors, organised them alphabetically by surname, your in text citation only needs to include the first one.

If you're referencing an online upload of an old source like Internet Archive or Project Gutenberg, include the original authors name first, uploaders name/ID second and mark which is which in parenthesis, then the date of original publication if you can find it, followed by the date it was uploaded to the site.

If you are referencing a film/TV episode, use the name of the director and include (Dir) next to their name.

If you can't find a date of publication/upload then write DNA instead.

Always put your references at the back of your grimoire. If your grimoire contains multiple chapters, group them by each chapter and then organise either alphabetically or chronologically. If your in-text citation uses numbers, organise your reference list chronologically. If you're using a mini reference, organise your reference list alphabetically.

This last bit is especially important for practitioners who intend to publish their work. Please please please do not skip referencing! I've read so many traditionally published witchcraft books who's authors don't do this or do it half-assed and I can't stand it.

Readers deserve to know where your information is coming from so they can be the judge on whether or not it's appropriate for them to practice themselves. Not doing so creates a cycle of ignorance among readers and new practitioners that encourages the spread of cultural appropriation, poor media literacy and poor historical and scientific understanding. Always cite your sources.

#witchblr #witch #witchcraft #pagan #pagan witch #paganism #grimoire #grimoire ideas #digital grimoire #grimoire tips #grimoire references #writing #journaling #witchcraft books #grimoire help #paganblr #practioner #book of magic

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beatingdrumspouringwine · 7 days

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Words from the Gods

Communication with the Gods is daunting. There's something about the many ways by which it can happen, the strange ways by which it can happen, and also how it is seen online versus real life, all of which can lead to confusion and a bit of dismay. I remembered reading a lot of stories about people's encounters with the Gods, which seemed to be these casual conversations, like those you would have with friends. I definitely wasn't getting those kinds of communications, and had a lot of worry that I was doing things Wrong, Somehow. There was definitely some time where my worship was based more towards "man, I hope this God/Goddess gets me some cool experiences I could share with my friends!" instead of wanting to focus on building a relationship with the Deity Themselves.

Over the years, I've grown better at understanding and picking out communications from the Gods. Obviously, I'm not an expert on it, and I wouldn't claim to be. However, I'm starting this series (words from the Gods) to hopefully help with explaining the different ways that I have encountered the Gods (mostly Dionysos), and how they impacted me, as well as how to discern these communications. As the old saying goes, your mileage may vary, but I do hope that this will help people in their worship!

I can't quite say when the first post comes out, seeing as I'm swinging terrifyingly close to finals, graduation, and the Great Adult Life that lies beyond college. But, I'll try my best to keep it going and updated!

edited this to remove the line markers that i sometimes use to mark how much i've written lol, my ADHD needs some fun little thing to keep me writing

#dionysian #dionysos #dionysus #hellenic polytheism #hellenic polytheist #dionysos deity #dionysus deity #hellenic pagan #hellenic gods #hellenism

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khaleesiofalicante · 1 month

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Okay, so I got NO work and No writing done today. The weather was too cozy so I just drank lots of tea and listened to music hehe.

So, instead of an LMCH or LBAF update, you get a glimpse into the Lightwood-Bane family in the RWRB AU. I'm so excited for you to all to meet them next week (?).

What was that mean tweet he read at the Jimmy Kimmel interview last year?

President Lightwood’s family looks like the cover of a diversity brochure of a community college.

Max had laughed out loud so hard that he almost fell off the chair. Because despite being mean, it was absolutely hilarious and you gotta give credit where credit is due.

Despite this kind of criticism, the Lightwood-Banes used their diversity to their advantage. They each had their own strength and a target group they controlled.

Dad, who was called the Orion of the Democratic Party - for his targeted initiatives and unmissable victories. His father, if he set his mind to something, always saw it through. Dad had the rich people and the white people and especially the rich white people under his thumb. The Lightwoods were famous long before Dad wanted to become president, so it also helped that their family came from old money and had friends in all the right places.

Bapak, who was nicknamed Saint Magnus, is kind of like a modern-day Mother Theresa – perfectly balancing Dad’s straightforward and no-bullshit personality with soft smiles and gentle words. Bapak, who used to be a refugee himself, got most of the minority votes –including racial minorities and second-gen immigrants. He was very appealing to the liberals - especially the activists and the scholars and the feminists.

People liked Dad. But people were in love with Bapak.

Well, not all of them, obviously.

Just because they have a gay president now, it doesn’t homophobia was dead and equality is achieved.

This is still the real world.

Rafael, who had dubbed America’s Future, is the visionary among them. Because what Rafael lacked in experience, he made up more than enough with his passion. Despite spending all his free time with bapak, if there’s any, and hogging all of bapak’s attention like the unapologetically selfish asshole he is, Rafael is a mini-Dad. Max, who grew up with the man, saw it a long time ago. But the people started to see it too.

However, while Dad had the upper class covered, Rafe wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty – not literally though. Bapak taught him to protect his cuticles.

Rafe is one with the people of the working class. He got his first part-time job at the local diner when he was in middle school, he volunteered for everything damn charity project under the sun during high school and by the time he was in college, he was already helping Dad with his next campaign.

While the rest of his family worked really hard to earn these titles and support, Max had barely done anything at all. He, anointed and appointed as ‘America’s Sweetheart, by the people themselves, just needed to be himself. A sweetheart.

It wasn’t the press the gave him the name. Max’s target demographic is Gen Z and the name turned into a thing shortly after someone random person on TikTok made an edit of him to Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince.

He’s fine it. Honestly, it’s much better than being called America’s Future. Yikes.

Since Max’s key demographic is chronically online and would rather die than go out, much of the work he does is also online. This means he needs to have a consistent social media presence and do the allocated number of livestreams every week and meet the expected number of social media reach every day.

It’s a little exhausting. But it’s nothing compared to what Rafael does, which is to do real work in the real world.

But there you have it.

The First Family of the United States of America.

The Orion, Saint Magnus, America’s Future, and America’s Sweetheart.

#ahhhhh bye #mavid rwrb au

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iris-drawing-stuff · 8 months

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In your omori au, what's everyone doing while haruka locked himself away? I'm curious about what they're up to in the real world

Hey, sorry that this is a bit late. I was really struggling to write something for Kotoko because she's one of the prisoners I really struggle to understand.

Fuuta

Fuuta initially tries to cope by joining his school's soccer team and focusing only on that instead of his own grief, but he gets injured in the eye one day in an accident. He is unable to play soccer after that (lack of depth perception), so he spends most of his time online. He starts harassing people who he believes do harmful things (specifically things that could lead to another's suicide, like bullies, etc.).

Kotoko

Kotoko finds Mirai's death really strange since there weren't really any signs of her being suicidal. She becomes obsessed with trying to find out why and does illegal things like break into Mirai's house to try to investigate. Most people in town view her as that weird delinquent who's obsessed with the dead girl. She eventually starts suspecting that something happened between Muu, Haruka, and Mirai since Muu acts weird when both of them are brought up.

Mikoto

Mikoto already had a really shitty life prior to Mirai's death due to his abusive father, but he was able to hide it from the others. When she died, Orekoto started fronting more and distanced himself from everyone. He'd often go to a junkyard and smash things with a bat to try to relieve some of the stress. One day he meets a really upset Fuuta there, and he's just... tired, so he just hands Fuuta the bat. They start meeting there more often to relieve their pent-up emotions. Orekoto and Fuuta eventually sort of form a friendship.

He goes to college to try to get a new start in life, but he still stays in contact with Fuuta.

Muu

Muu misses Haruka but also feels really bitter about him abandoning her. She ends up trying to form a new friend group after the old one dissolves. It lasts for around a year or so, but because she still feels intensely guilty for what she has done, she has a really awful breakdown in front of her friends, which leads them to kick her out of the friend group. They bully her and spread rumors about her, calling her crazy.

#milgram #milgram au #milgram omori au #iris talks #fuuta kajiyama #kotoko yuzuriha #mikoto kayano #muu kusunoki #I'm not sure if Orekoto and Fuuta being friends is very realistic #But I loved the idea so they are friends in this AU #ask

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writingquestionsanswered · 3 months

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I was wondering how I write my characters realizing that they are aging? They see themselves physically getting older, and I don't know how to correctly portray it as I'm still very young.

Characters Realize They're Aging

Here's the thing... you may be very young, but you're older than you were a few years ago. Let's say you're fifteen... in what ways did you notice you had aged from when you were ten? What were the signs that you had physically aged? What were the signs that you had mentally aged? This isn't different when you're older. It's the same.

The only difference is instead of noticing things related to growing into an adult body, you're noticing ways that your adult body is aging. For me, it's things like noticing I'm not as flexible anymore (getting up after sitting on the floor is harder), I get more frequent aches and pains, and my hair is graying. Other than that, I feel pretty much the same as I did ten, twenty, and even thirty years ago.

One of the worst "oh gosh, I'm old" moments for me happens when watching old TV shows or movies I loved in my teens, with characters who are settled, experienced adults, but now realizing I'm twenty plus years older than they are. Or, looking at them and realizing how young they look. Another is when I find myself saying or doing things that I've always perceived older people doing. For example, Mr. WQA and I started realizing we were going out to dinner earlier and earlier, and suddenly we found ourselves surrounded almost entirely by silver-haired diners. Finding ourselves out-of-touch with something that's trendy with younger people, like pop culture icons or trends, is also a reminder of getting older.

Another one that is particularly unpleasant is just noticing that your similarly aged peers are starting to go through things that tend to happen as people get older. Couples growing apart and getting divorced, or their kids graduating from high school or college--or getting married and having kids. Friends getting age-related illnesses. Parents reaching very old age.

I hope that gives you some ideas! You might also look for some articles online that talk about getting older and aging, as these are likely to talk about the kinds of things people deal with and how they cope with them.

Happy writing!

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I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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