#to balance the fluffy nonsense i usually post maybe? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

badfvith · 4 years

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look at you | remus lupin

request: Hiiii! I have a request - I would absolutely love to see a young Remus Lupin corny crush/pining/getting together imagine!! ❤️

A/N: you have absolutely come to the right place for cheesy fluffy shy remus. also im sorry this took a little while to get posted it took me minute to think of an idea! i hope you guys like this!!

warnings: nothing here except teeth rotting cotton candy sunshine & unicorns style fluff :)

word count: 1411

remus’s pov

“For God’s sake will you just go talk to her already?” Sirius exclaimed, eliciting a laugh from James and a harsh glare from Madam Pince.

I quickly snapped out of my gaze and turned around to face him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh come on Moony. You’ve been staring at her like a lovesick puppy for months now.” James piped up. At this I sighed and closed the textbook I was reading.

“If I had even the faintest clue of what you’re talking about, I would tell you that I have not.”

“Fine then. Guess that just means I have a new date to Hogsmeade this week.” Sirius said with a shrug.

“Go on Sirius!” Peter laughed.

“You lot are insufferable.” I replied.

“So you’re saying you wouldn’t be mad if I asked (y/n) on a date?” Sirius continued. “Because she is really nice to look at-”

“Shut it!” I said in a firm voice.

“Mr Lupin, please keep it down.” I heard not even a moment later.

“Sorry.” I muttered, turning to face Madam Pince’s desk. Clearly the four of us don’t spend much time in the library together.

James, Sirius, and Peter started laughing but their conversation soon moved on. I opened my transfiguration textbook again and started rereading the chapter this week’s upcoming exam was on. I got through about half of it before I was distracted by the reason I came here today in the first place. It’s Thursday afternoon, and she’s always in the library on Thursday afternoons. Usually I come alone, but that wasn’t the case today. Sirius was “bored” and James surprisingly actually wanted to study, and Peter just followed. So now I had to balance studying, getting distracted by her, and trying to keep my best friends quiet when they realized I was getting distracted by her.

The more I sat here in thought the more I realized that they were right though. It’s been months of me pathetically staring at her, awkward “hi’s” and “nice jobs” in the hallway before and after classes, and running away like a fool on those occasional times she catches my gaze and smiles. I think this has become one of those, “now or never” situations, as muggles say.

I abruptly started packing up my things. That’s it. I’m going to talk to (y/n) today.

“Going somewhere?” Sirius asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Yes actually.” I responded, slinging my bag over my shoulder and pushing in my chair.

“Care to tell us where?” James pried.

“I’m going to do it.” Was all I said before I started walking away towards her table. I wanted to give them more details, but I felt like if I opened my mouth I would somehow talk myself out of this.

“Blimey...I think he’s actually going to talk to her!” I faintly heard James exclaim. I shook my head and took a breath before continuing on my path towards the table where she was sitting, lazily doing what looked like ancient runes work. Her hair was a little messed up from going through the school day, and she had one leg tucked under the other in her position on her chair. Suddenly I was torn on whether or not I should disturb her. She looked so adorably focused. I awkwardly waited by a bookshelf, picking up the random history book on display and reading the title page but not registering a word of it. I finally looked back over to her and saw her shuffling around some papers, hopefully finished with whatever the assignment was.

I tried to place the book back on its shelf but my hands were so shaky it fell, knocking over a few others. I shook my head in embarrassment when I felt the stares of some other people at nearby tables as I clumsily stood the books up again. That whole ordeal only made me more nervous, but I continued to tell myself that I couldn’t keep this up for any longer. I need to do something about these feelings I have. Even if she rejects me, which she probably will, at least I know I tried.

I made my way up to her table. I stood there silently for a second as she put a book away in her bag before finally speaking up “Hi (y/n).”

“Remus! Hi, how are you?” She smiled. My heart was pounding. Between her beautiful face smiling up at me, and the fact that I was actually having a conversation with her, I didn’t know if I would make it through this.

“I’m, uh great! How- how are you?” I stuttered out back.

“I’m good as well.” She said. “Just in the middle of this dreadful ancient runes homework which puts a damper on things though.” She let out a small laugh.

I nodded. “I bet! There’s a reason I decided not to take that class.”

She shook her head. “I’m sure you’d have been fine either way. You’re much smarter than me.”

“Nonsense.” I said, and she laughed again.

“So is there something you needed?”

“Well...I mean there was, but you’re busy so, it can wait.” I got more and more angry at myself with every word of that sentence that exited my mouth, but she’s busy now. I should’ve known this would never work.

“No no don’t worry. I’d love a distraction from this paper.” She said. A second chance.

“Oh! Well in that case...I was wondering if, maybe you wanted to come on a walk with me?” I asked slowly.

Her face seemed to light up at the question and I swallowed hard. “I’d love to.” She replied. “It would be such a shame to waste this beautiful day tucked away in here wouldn’t it.”

“You’re right.” I nodded.

“Alright. Just give me a second to pack up here.”

“Of course.”

Once she was done, the two of us made our way down the hallway and out the doors. The warm spring air collided with my senses and I felt less nervous than I had been a few minutes prior. The two of us fell into easy conversation. (y/n) was everything I knew she would be; intelligent and funny and courteous and so damn beautiful. It was one thing staring at her from far away, but being with her up close and being able to take in her bright eyes, small freckles and the faintest scent of something tropical was another. She was mesmerizing.

After a while we both decided to stop by the Black Lake. She sat down against a tree and I followed suit. We sat in silence in the presence of the about to set sun, and listened to the small waves against the shoreline.

“I look at you too, you know.” She spoke softly, breaking the silence.

“What do you mean?” I asked, having a clue but hoping I was wrong.

“I’ve seen you staring at me. But don’t worry, I stare back when you aren’t looking.” She continued, she wasn’t facing me but I could tell her face was curling into a smile.

“Oh...I didn’t realize...I’m sorry if it ever made you uncomfortable. I just...think that you’re really beautiful.” I spit out, holding my breath while waiting on her response.

She turned her head to look at me. Her hand moved to rest on mine and I felt my throat go dry just from that small touch.

“Thank you.” She whispered. I finally took the initiative and moved in slightly closer to her. We sat there admiring each other until I was sure I had all the specks of color in her eyes memorized.

“Remus?” She questioned.

“Hm?” I asked, still lost in her features.

“Will you kiss me?”

My eyes widened at her words. This was everything I’ve wanted for months, and everything I expected to positively never happen. I couldn’t even begin to describe the feeling I got in my stomach and my heart when those words rolled off of her tongue.

I gently placed my hand on her cheek and leaned in close. She closed her eyes as our lips hovered over each other for a second before I closed the space. I felt a soft hand place itself on my side. We melted into each other before we finally pulled away to breathe. My forehead rested on hers before I whispered,

“Yes sweetheart, I’ll kiss you. And I plan to do it more than once.”

tags:

@tinylumpiaa @kashishwrites @lateautumn @asksiriusblacvk

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dismuch47 · 3 years

Text

THE BUFFER

Length: Extra Long Drabble

Timeline: Post Civil War, 5 months in...

Content: Wanda and Vision are finding it rather hard to wait for some quality face-time, especially with back-to-back missions overlapping. And to part when things were just starting to heat up...

Warnings: Spicy fluffy.

A shaky sigh escaped Wanda as her hazel eyes snapped open. How was it possible for her body to be completely sapped of strength, but her mind oppressively restless? She winched as she turned on her aching side, the derelict cot squeaking with the movement of the mattress. It felt good to lay there in the new position…her body heavy like lead... but her unblinking gaze pierced the darkness of the room.

It happened every so often. Not every night… but more than she could count. And it always made her chest constrict and her brow contort with memorized pain. No tears anymore. Just a deep ache, echoing endlessly within herself.

Tonight she had been falling, again. Endlessly. Debris circled around her, as if in a calm, slow motion… though the wind raged in her ears mercilessly. She was reaching out to a hand she knew well. Hazel eyes like her own were wide with desperation. Snowy hair lashed about as he reached back to her. They would never successfully grab hold. And the blood stains on his fitted shirt grew into gory, gaping wounds. Wanda’s heart would thunder as the broken Sokovian soil raced to collide from below. She screamed, voicelessly, as she realized that she would feel his death yet again with the impact.

Wanda finally forced her eyes closed again, breathing in and out and repeat, like Natasha had taught her. The clamminess and racing heart leveled out. She reached under the cot, finding her MP3 player among discarded clothing on the dirty floor. Music had a stimulating effect, which didn’t bother her at this point, as further sleep was now out of the question.

She would not go back to that day. She would not feel Pietro die again. Not if she could help it.

The list of music was uncategorized, so she had to skip over the loud and nonsensical, which had been her twin’s flavor more then hers. She usually found comfort in them, but tonight she needed calm. A rhythm to cling to and ward away the demons within.

It was clear why these nightmares were occurring, and with more frequency. Two whole months without Vision. They had a beautiful and tender farewell, knowing that Wanda’s next mission would take some time and focus. And then his subsequent off-world S.W.O.R.D. assignment would further expanded the impossibility of a feasible rendezvous.

Off world.

Wanda held herself. There were infinite ways Vision could communicate with her when they were apart. The advantages of a being created by and to be one with the technologic rhythms of Earth and beyond. A message on a digital board would flash with sentiments for an instant, enough for her to notice, but for others to briefly shake their heads in passing befuddlement. Vision could keep his eyes on her… though not without challenge, as her team was doing everything in their human capacity to stay OFF camera and grid for safety. If he did find her easily enough… he’d make sure to cover his digital tracks and obscure the path from anyone else. Always watchful.

Which is why the complete silence and blackout of their connection had been so disconcerting. Closer to Earth’s satellites, Vision sent small messages or emojis to an encrypted messenger program he had developed for just the two of them. It made her heart ache, sitting in the computer cafe, looking at the green pixelated hearts. Not being able to feel him.

That was 19 days ago. And his gentle, golden light and warmth was so far away that practically felt nonexistent. Allowing the icy darkness of her past to creep back into her life. It didn’t claw and tear as it once had, but it leered at her from every shadow as she laid sleepless in bed.

She fidgeted on the horrid mattress until she was flat on her back again. Finally the warm night air was getting through the initial cold-sweat that her nightmare had put her through. The music in her ears spoke of nights, love, and intimacies. It made her miss Vision more. Especially since their last parting had changed the dynamics of their unique companionship.

Kisses were innocent enough. Pecks. Affectionate rewards of thoughtful actions and reciprocated sentiments. But with each meet-up, the distance on the hotel suite couches narrowed during evening sitcom watching. Pinkies locked together with a hand graze during sight-seeing, and sharing a single bed had become an innocent, comforting norm. So when laughter had left her breathless and she planted one on the synthezoid while she was practically in his arms… it hadn’t particularly surprised either of them when they let it linger for a few steady heartbeats. And when their lips parted, and silent hesitancy emboldened to yearning…they came back together. More sure of the act. Oh so very much more sure.

There was no sex that followed. It could have. But it didn’t. It was yet another daunting human concept for him… and honestly for her too… to be saddled with right before a long stint away from each other. The kiss… kisses… had been perfect. And wandering hands memorized flesh and vibranium surface and texture. She did remove his shirt. That did happen. And maybe there had been some salacious caressing and tongue tracing of metallic striations.

They should have had sex.

Now Wanda was irritated with herself. She shut off the seductive music and tossed the device back on the messy floor. She closed her eyes and tried to take herself back to one of the numerous hotel rooms she had visited Vision with. Clean linen smells. The food. THE HOT SHOWERS. And Vision. Most of all… Vision. No night with him gave nightmares the foothold they so desired. Not with the gentle whirring of his calculating mind to sooth hers, or the gentle lilts of his humored voice, nor with the gentle stroke of his digits against her hair. This phantom Vision made the ache in her sigh, yet she smiled inwardly. Almost like he was there now. Her essence unfolding itself to his nearness. Warmth in her cheeks and heart. She basked in the feeling, amazed at it’s intoxicating realness...

That’s when she sat straight up in the bed. Blinking at the one window of the room. Wanda tore off the sheets and padded over to it, careful to be soundless in an apartment of light-sleeping soldiers and an ex-assassin. She fumbled with the latch, splotched with corrosion and non-use. The window slid up, with some exertion, and she stuck her head out, auburn hair catching in a soft cool breeze. The building was a dump, but the skies and countryside beyond the town limits was scenic, even in the moonlight. Spring touched it’s fingers upon the vegetation, pale blossoms looking like celestial creatures swaying in the wind.

“Vision.” she whispered.

She paused. Anticipating a response.

“Vision?”

Her hand clutched the bottom of the window for balance, but she squeezed tighter with rising disappointment. She had been so sure. She had wanted him so bad that she had fooled herself. Wanda’s eyes cast downward as she ducked her head back into the room, lowering the window.

“Wanda.”

The woman startled, then smiled ridiculously wide as she quickly lifted the window once more. “Vision!” She kept her voice breathy, for low volume, but it burst with excitement. She reached out to his hovering form as he emerged from the side, pulling his face towards hers for a kiss, nearly toppling out of the window in the process.

Vision chuckled, letting her have his lips, responding in kind, but holding her safely within her perch. “Wanda. I have missed your presence, considerably so-”

“I thought I was going crazy!” She kissed his nose, lips, cheeks… lips again. “I knew you were here but I didn’t see you-“

“My apologies. It appears that-“ Kiss. “… Agent Romanoff has been doing a rather competent job of establishing alarmed snares for both carbon-based intruders, and those of a more mechanized persuasion-“ His lips were stilled by another kiss.

“Sorry about that. She’s a stickler…”

“No, on the contrary, I am appreciably reassured that she goes to such great lengths for the security of her team.” He brushed some wayward hair behind her ear. “I just had to tread cautiously.”

Wanda finally detangled her arms from around his neck and leaned against the sill more comfortably. Vision propped his elbows there as well, lightly entwining his maroon fingers with hers. “When did you get back?”

“I came straight from the stars to you, Wanda.” He grinned, knowing his answer pleased her when she grinned shyly and pressed her cheek to their joined hands. “I know I should have checked-in with Stark and Dr. Cho…but yours was the company I felt I most required.”

Wanda rested her chin on his knuckles. “Two months… is WAY too long, Vis.”

“Far too long.” He echoed her ache. “You look fatigued, Wanda.”

She huffed. “Thanks. I am. Didn’t sleep well.” That’s all she would supply for now. “Did you enjoy your trip off-world?”

Vision crossed a hovering leg over the other, tilting his head thoughtfully. “A vast frontier of terrifyingly beautiful mysteries. And I occupied only a mere point percentage of our known galaxy. I will be processing my findings for days.”

“You loved it.” Wanda grinned.

“Visually it was very stimulating.”

She looked down. “So I guess that means more space assignments.” She felt him tip her face up to his, hands still locked with hers.

“It was a drone mission. Too expensive to send humans, and equipment too expensive to lose.”

“So they sent you.” Wanda said, bitterness edging through.

“I have immense respect for the current Director of S.W.O.R.D., but we both knew it was mostly a publicity stunt. Sending an Avenger to space. A S.W.O.R.D. partner project with Stark Industries. I was the logical, and really only, choice.”

She grumbled “As long as it doesn’t become a habit…”

“I assure you, I am far more inclined to be earth-bound with still so many provocative enigmas of humanity to be uncovered…” Wanda looked up at him, seeing his cerulean eyes roving not too subtly over her night shorts and how they moved across her toned thighs. Within an instant he was back to regarding her face thoughtfully.

Wanda arched a brow. “Provocative enigmas, huh?” She gently reclaimed her fingers, taking a few, slow and salacious steps away from the window. She unzipped the light sweatshirt she had on and let it fall away from her arms. A pink, loose, sleep tank glowed in the moonlight.

“Do you want to come in?”

“Wanda…” Vision’s tone smoothly protested, but his eyes didn’t leave her visage. Their soft bluish glow fluctuated as he skimmed the inside of the room. Considering. “Is that very prudent? With your team so close in proximity-“

“They’re sound asleep.” She assured him, touching each teammate’s mind with her own, making sure that they were truly unconscious. “If you try to slip me out the window, I’m bound to trip off one of the snares too. Nothing comes in… no one goes out… unless you have the unique ability of density fluctuation…” Wanda played with the hem of her pink top. Her whispered tones were now a gentle, more audible alto melody. “And as cute as it is to kiss by the window and moonlight, like two certain star-crossed lovers… I’m thinking we deserve a little more than that. After such a long time apart…”

“5,259,492 exceedingly long seconds.” Vision agreed. He took one last look outside, making sure not a soul was passing by, and then ducked his head in to avoid collision with the window frame. The rest of his form shimmered gold and passed through all matter until he was hovering in her room.

Wanda put her arms up like a ringleader at a circus, acknowledging their surroundings. “Welcome to one of many humble abodes that changes with each mission for team On-The-Run. Sorry for the mess. Wasn’t expecting company.”

The synthezoid’s pleasant expression slightly waned as he examined the room. It was dark, but he could adjust his optic settings to accommodate for the lack of light source. He couldn’t help but notice the warped boards of the floor and some exposed nails protruding up. He analyzed all the weak points where someone of Wanda’s height and build might fall through if enough force applied. The cot looked devoid of any possible comfort required for a human’s successful 7 hours of sleep needed for healthy productivity. The defunct fire alarm didn’t even have a battery in it. The amount of dust and mold alone had to be such devastating havoc on the respiratory system…

Wanda bit her lower lip to keep from laughing. Watching Vision’s expression deepen with concern as his gaze moved from one health code violation to the next was amusing to her. It fell upon the only other piece of furniture in the condemned bedroom: the wardrobe.

“Felons don’t get great incomes.” She supplied, scrunching her noise. Her eyes then narrowed as she thought about it. “In fact… I don’t think we actually get an income at all. It’s mostly favors and connections-“

“Something died in there.” Vision was fixed on that ominous wardrobe.

“Oh yeah. For sure. That smell doesn’t go away. I tried everything.” She looked down and shuffled her things on the floor around with her foot. “That’s why my stuff is everywhere. I’ll take dirt over smell…”

Vision gave her a compassionate look. “I promise to never tease your propensity for 50 minute showers when we meet up in hotels, ever again. Even though the average human only needs 15 to 20.”

“I appreciate that.” Wanda used her index finger to motion him hither. “Now come closer. I think if we play our cards right, we might find one of those ‘provocative enigmas’ you are so fond of…”

Despite the profound concern over his favorite human being confined to the condemned dwelling, the synthezoid gave a grin that made a sincere dimple appear on his chiseled face. He arched a foot and touched down on the hard floor… only for the wooden planks to let out an inane splintered groan that resonated in to room. Vision’s eyes widened with worry, and Wanda’s hand shot up to stop him in his tracks.

She reached out quickly to make sure that the noise hadn’t disturbed anyone. Sam tossed on the couch with a soft snort, but he was pretty much dead to the world. Steve’s brows knitted, but he seemed locked in a conflicting dream that he desired to stay in. Natasha, however, fully open her eyes, staring up at the ceiling and waiting for more noise before she would leap to investigate. Nothing came. And this area had big fat raccoons. Wanda could handle it. Nat’s lids drooped over her blue eyes and she let her head sink back into her stiff pillow.

“Okay… We’re good.” Wanda whispered after a long pause. She waved a hand to hold down the boards with her power while Vision retracted his foot back into the air. She carefully eased up on the wood, commanding its fibers to slide back together, stronger than before, and quiet.

Vision gave a slight grimace. “I do not think the remiss state of this apartment will accommodate for my dense weight. Not enough to be stealthy.” He offered his graceful hand down to her. “But I may have an alternative solution.”

The human smirked up at the synthezoid and gave her hand as she took a few soft steps and leaped. Vision hoisted her up and rested her into a sitting position across his lap, cradling her between firm thigh and compact core. She rested against him, slipping her arms around his waist, while he reclined their angle somewhat, allowing gravity to assist with keeping her in place upon him. They floated wordlessly for a few moments, happily nestled against each other.

Wanda made some soft happy noises, face practically buried in his chest. She turned her head to the side, resting her cheek over his heart. “You smell amazing…. how do you smell so amazing?”

He stroked her soft hair, smiling broadly down at her. “There was an orchard along the way. I stopped, briefly, to admire the blossoms up close. I apologize if it’s overpowering. I should have phased the particulates from myself before-“

“No, I love it.” She inhaled deeply. She nuzzled her way around the gold and metallic maroon of his uniform’s crest, till she found the warmth of his neck. He tilted his head to the side, giving her free-reign over that shapely area. She pressed her lips there tenderly, breathing him in. Night, spring air, and citrus. The hand that had been resting around his waist snaked up to caress his neck, while she slowly ravaged the other side. A hicky and marks would be impossible on his vibranium infused tissue… but the administrations of her tongue and then teeth caused Vision to swallow and exhale deeply. In a way that thrilled Wanda. She planted one more kiss, incredibly pleased with herself, before moving up to his jawline.

Vision lowered his face down to her, his gaze heavy-lidded, intrigued with her sensual strategy. She reached his lips, her hand cupping his jaw, fingers stroking his textured skin. She took his lower lip in hers, consuming, wet…like lapping at a juicy fruit, and nipped as she pulled away. His lips stayed parted, perhaps caught off guard, but the hitch in the synthezoid’s chest conveyed that the assault to his mouth was indeed welcome.

Wanda licked her lips, letting out a wanton sigh. Her hazel eyes finally reopened, regarding Vision.

“Hi.” she said.

Vision was perplexed by the simplicity of her dialogue. Sexual simulation may indeed have a depleting effect on the human cerebrum’s left hemisphere; typically where language was stored. He varied infinite responses that could reciprocate an equally playful sentiment of desire as well…

“Hi.” he settled with. Not original, but it made the woman crack a sultry smile.

Wanda moved to claim his lips once more.

“Wanda” Vision broke the spell before it could swell. “…We never did have a chance to discuss…to discuss…well, what happened in-in the Netherlands.” Wanda suppressed a smile with his stuttering. A tell-tale that he was breaching a topic beyond his full understanding and had copious questions about. “Not before we had to part ways…”

Wanda cocked her head at him. “And what happened in the Netherlands?” she asked coyly.

“W-well…I am only speaking from my perspective,” he began hesitantly, eyes darting to the side. “…but my understanding was that our intimate, yet casual familiarities with one another has evolved into something more…” Vision struggled to find the right word. Not vulgar, but not chaste. “Well, more.”

Wanda caressed her thumb over his lips softly. The moonlight highlighted the pronounced bow and border of his pleasing mouth, a wet sheen over his lower lip marked where she had been.

“Well, we could talk about it…” she offered, continuing her tracing. “…or we could just continue to explore that…’more.’”

Vision’s eyes darted from her enticing gaze, contemplating the choice. A gentle rumble imitated deep in his throat, as he weighed the pros and cons of transparent communication… vs instant and gratifying, sensory study. Wanda made the choice for him, thankfully, parting his lips with her thumb. Vision’s eyes closed heavily, as he tried not to analyze this clear oral fixation, and surrendered his mouth. Her hand slipped down when she replaced it with her full lips upon his, down to rest upon his rising chest. Her other hand massaged circular patterns into the small of his back, beneath his cape.

The synthezoid raised a hand to tenderly cradle the side of her head as their mouths moved against one another. It was a thrilling sensation, whether passionate and out of tandem, or deep and focused synchronization. A maroon hand slid up from her waist, under the jersey material of Wanda’s pink tank, completely unintentional at first, but Vision savored the soft creamy expanse of her back against his digits. She softly moaned against his lips. The sound of her pleasure motivated him to hold her closer to himself. She welcomed the adjustment, slipping both her arms around his neck. Her legs crossed, toes curling, lost in bliss.

Vision’s airy cape brushed against the floor as they slowly whorled in the air, lost in each other. Oblivious that they were edging closer to the cracked and peeling wall. Their kisses became more urgent. Wanda murmured his name, which gave him validation… and an inclination to elicit more audible responses from her. He released his gentle grasp of her chin, seized a hand sliding from his neck, threading their fingers together before bringing her wrist to his lips to kiss. He had accessed data some time ago that confirmed the wrist as an erogenous zone due to the concentrated nerve endings that resided just below the epidermis. He gently rubbed with his thumb, and peppered with sweet brushes of his lips, and featherlight nips.

Wanda’s head lolled back, long auburn hair swaying in the breeze coming from the window. Vision’s splayed hand at her back kept her from losing balance. She arched into his curled arm, trusting, with lazy abandon, eyes gazing dreamily at the moldy ceiling. She felt him kissing his way up the arm he held captive. She had to let out a laugh. A callback to a time that their viewing of the “Addams Family” show had led them into a heated discussion about how impractical Gomez’s passionate displays of affection were in real-world applications. Like kissing his way up Morticia’s arm in almost every episode.

Wanda was wrong. It was nice…

More than nice.

Vision shushed softly against her skin, relishing her inviting giggles, but reminding her of the required low decibel to maintain covertness. He trailed to where her shoulder met with her neck, drawing her back towards himself, taking his time.

“Vis.” Wanda’s voice was husky. Her heart was about to leap out of her chest. She couldn’t hold out anymore. She roughly adjusted her position, allowing him to assist her, until she had him caught between her legs. The muscle and plate-infused surfacing of his lower abdominals had a delicious hardness against her tender apex.

Vision visibly gulped at new position, comprehending it’s possible implication. He didn’t realize how drastically he was backing up, being airborne.

“Wanda…perhaps we shouldn’t-“

The synthezoid’s broad back bumped into the wall of the room. And for whatever reason, that was enough to jostle the usually resistant window to slam down against the sill, the glass shattering. Wanda squeaked loudly at the sudden noise. Vision sharp attention to the noise source distracted him from the reflexive movement of his arm… which went right through the drywall behind him without effort.

Through. Not phased.

“Oh dear…” He grieved, pulling his elbow out of the hole, debris crumbling down in a dust cloud upon the squeaky floor boards.

Wanda could hear the lightening-fast thumping of bare feet and the click of a gun. Wanda’s hands glowed red and she phased through Vision, dropping to the floor with a thud and flicked her wrist over her head, sending him soaring through the air and into the wardrobe wall. He visibly disappeared with a soft and abrupt “ah” before the door to the room flung open. Natasha stalked in, gun aimed, pointing it at every corner as she assessed the threat level. She acknowledged Wanda on the floor, resting the aim of her weapon at the destroyed window. Steven followed behind, fists poised.

“She’s unharmed.” Nat confirmed over her shoulder to Steve.

He went over to her to help the young woman up, cautiously looking around. “Wanda, you okay? What happened?”

Wanda tried to speak.

“The window is broken. Did someone try to force their way in?” Nat demanded, doubtful, as her traps outside were famously intricate. She then noticed the hole in the wall. “Maximoff?”

Wanda’s head reeled. To be pulled from paradise to this purgatory at whip-lash speed. “I… I just. I had the window open. Fell asleep… I guess I had a nightmare. Lost control.” She was breathless between excuses, pulse racing. Nat’s icy blue gaze narrowed at her younger teammate.

Steve regarded Wanda with stoic compassion. He put his hands on her shoulders. “It must have been a bad one. You still looked flushed.” The woman bit her lower lip, unable to meet her leader’s gaze.

Nat finally lowered her gun and backed away from the window. “You haven’t lost control of your powers like this in awhile. Maybe we need to adjust your training focus.” Wanda blanched inwardly. That didn’t sound good. Not coming from Natasha.

“Everything good up there??” Sam’s voice called from the livingroom couch downstairs.

“False alarm, Sam.” Steve yelled back.

“Good. Cause some of us are trying to get some shut eye.”

Steve regarded the mess, speaking more quietly this time. “We’ll patch this up in the morning. Though you’ll be happy to know that we’ll be relocating soon. Got a lead on another job.”

“Oh… yeah. That’s… that’s good.” Wanda offered.

Steve didn’t seem assured by the forced sincerity of her response. “Get some rest, okay?”

“Yes, sir.”

He gave her a pat to the shoulder and strode out of the room. Natasha stood in her usual power stance, legs shoulder width apart, hands and gun clasped behind her back. The fact she was clad in a sports bra and black high-cuts didn’t make her any less intimidating.

The bottled-blonde wasn’t leaving. Wanda cleared her throat. “I think I’ll be okay. Thank you. You’re right about the… the extra training-“

“The wardrobe has feet.” The ex-assassin stated dryly. She turned her head to the side. “Say good night… Vision.”

Natasha turned to leave, slightly smirking once she was out of the room.

#scarletvision #wandavision #wanda maximoff #vision #avengers #fanfic #FOR THE FANDOM #makingout is hot #even hotter when airborn #and even more more with teammates under the same roof

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lovehelpmewrite · 5 years

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Little Blue Paper

Title: Little Blue Paper

Pairing: Warren x reader

Word count: 1. 3k

Warnings: literally none, it is so fluffy

Summary: You see Warren is having a tough time adjusting to being at Xavier’s school and decide to try and pick up his spirits with anonymous notes. Well, they were anonymous... until he caught you.

[A/N]: Helloooo!!!! So first of all, you guys are amazing and I am l o v i n g doing these requests, Y'all keep me humble and creative so thank you so fucking much. Second, please continue to send me stuff I love it. Third, I loved this ask as soon as I got it and I was immediately so excited to write it but i am a dingus so i didn’t get around to finishing it until now. I also usually just write it in the answer but I was dicking around on my phone and posted it early by accident so sorry sweet anon if my answer seemed a little lackluster in comparison. Okay anyway, on to the good shit. I got this great request for Warren from a wonderful anon and so here it is:

okay so! warren x reader fluff! reader leaves loving notes to him because they're too shy to talk to him etc but one day he caughts them doing it??? ❤️

So let's jump in

I leaned around the corner nervously, quickly leaning in and out of the doorway to avoid being caught. My heart ached as I heard Warren’s tired sigh as he made his way down the hall toward his room. I held my breath as I peeked around the corner again to watch as he stopped in front of his door, staring at the brightly colored sticky note I had placed on the door only minutes prior.

“Have an amazing night, you deserve it!” It read in my neatest handwriting.

Warren looked up and down the hall curiously, making me jump back behind the wall to avoid his gaze before he pulled the note off the door, entered his room, and pulled it shut behind him.

I didn’t miss the gentle smile on his face as he turned to go into his room.

The next note came on the top of a bottle of his favorite soda, with me sat inconspicuously at the counter with Jubilee while we went over chemistry notes.

I stole quick glances up at him as he walked in, trying desperately to focus on the different types of bonds different elements make in a chemical reaction, from polar covalent to nonpolar covalent, metallic, network solid-

I watched as he stood in front of the open cabinet a few seconds longer than necessary, his wings flexing and relaxing once before there was the clink of bottles against each other and he shut the cabinet, walking out of the kitchen with an enormous dopey grin.

“I adore your leather jacket, it makes your shoulders look so nice!”

I pushed down the butterflies in my stomach and turned my eyes back down to the notes Jubilee was still talking through, though I couldn’t quite hide the smile on my face at the thought of a certain winged boy.

I held in a yelp of nervousness as I heard Warren’s voice coming down the hall with Alex. I nervously skip-ran away from the common room couch, hurriedly ducking into the nearest empty classroom and closing the door quietly. I pressed my ear to the door to attempt to listen in on Warren’s reaction over the pounding of my own heartbeat in my head.

“Hey, this has your name on it,” came Alex’s muffled voice.

I heard slow footsteps and then silence for a few seconds before I heard a snort of laughter.

“Warren-

I love when you smile, it makes my day.

I hope this makes yours :)”

“Hey, do you have any idea who could be writing these by the way? I’ve been trying to figure it out from the writing but I have no clue,” came Warren’s deep voice.

“Uhhh....” Alex paused and my heart beat even faster in my chest, “maybe Jean, uh, Y/N, Rogue? For all I know it could be Bobby.”

“Huh. Alright, well thanks anyways.”

I turned and leaned my back against the door, my head gently dropping back against it as well while I tried to catch my breath.

I sat at my desk biting the inside of my cheek, the little pad of sticky notes sat in front of me, my pen hovering over the paper. I thought over several compliments, ranging from cheesy to risky to just completely dumb.

They all seem dumb, I thought in frustration.

I sighed, leaning back in my chair and trying to think up a good compliment to leave Warren again. I’d been leaving them for the last 2 weeks in various spots, at least once a day but more often than not I’d leave them 2 or 3 different spots for him to find throughout his day. And he was due to be back from a grocery run with Scott within the hour.

I let out a frustrated groan before just resigning to the first compliment I thought of, scrawling it across the colored paper.

“Your eyes make me think of the sky just before sunrise and I think it's a beautiful color :)”

I nodded to myself as I looked it over again. Not too bad. I checked the time and jumped up, realizing Warren would be home any minute.

I jogged out into the hall, pacing up and down, trying to decide where to leave the latest note. I’d already left one on the banister outside of his room this morning, and one of the front of his favorite cereal yesterday morning, and in the bathroom cabinet before he showered last night...

Think think think... where else would he look...

Coat room!

I dashed down the stairs, my socks sliding slightly on the wood floors as I turned down toward the main hall where Warren would no doubt go to put his leather jacket when he got back.

I grinned to myself as I yanked open the door. I looked around the small space quickly, trying to decide where the best place to put the note would be when something caught my eye.

Warren’s leather jacket. Already hung up.

My heart jumped into my throat, my racing heart quickly turning from excited to anxiety ridden.

“So it’s you.”

I whipped around to face a smirking Warren, words caught in my throat as I gestured with my hands nonsensically. Of course, that made it worse because he noticed the little blue paper in my hand and grabbed it quickly.

“Warren, no!” I finally got out, desperately reaching out for the note while he just used his forearm and wing to keep me behind him as he read it. Slowly, the smirk dropped from his face and was replaced by a small smile, his arm and wing dropping after I stopped fighting for the paper.

“Can I keep this?” He asked quietly, eye finally meeting mine after watching him reread the note over and over.

I rubbed the back of my neck anxiously while nodding slightly, feeling the heat creeping up my neck in embarrassment of being caught.

I watched him reread the note again, his eyes turning warm and soft like a summer breeze.

“You know these, uh...” Warren started, pausing to clear his throat and look around, his wings shifting behind him and just overall seeming a little embarrassed himself. “They just made it a little less...” He seemed stuck on the word.

“I... yeah, that was the goal,” I assured, trying to keep the warmth growing in my chest from getting out of control.

“I uh... I hope this isn’t the last one?” He asked more than said, his face hopeful.

How could I resist that?

“Well, I do really like writing them for you,” I admitted, looking down at my feet and letting myself smile and enjoy the fluttering in my stomach.

I looked back up to see Warren grinning at me again, a genuine grin this time, not teasing or condescending. He just nodded back at me, his hands shoving deep into his front pockets while he walked backward, almost tripping over the first stair on the staircase.

I bit my lip to hold in a laugh, watching his wings arch up over his head to try and balance him out. He popped back up with another toothy smile before starting up the stairs.

I turned toward the wall next to the closet door, a huge smile etched on my face as I went to lean my forehead against it to try and calm my pounding heart. Just as my skin was about to touch the cool wallpaper though, Warren’s voice sounded from the banister just above the closet.

“By the way, does my jacket really make my shoulders look good?” he asked with a cheeky grin.

I nodded with a small laugh, “it really does.”

#warren x reader #warren x reader fluff #warren worthington iii #warren worthington x reader #this took me way longer than it should have lol sorry #i really wasnt super sure where to go with it #i love the concept i really do #but im just a shitty writer i guess lol #idk but i hope this isnt too horrible sweet anon #i really did love the request #i hope this is what you were looking for #:)))#my sweet baby angel #i love one (1) angel #tumblr needs to stop fucking up my tags

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madysonxbeckett · 5 years

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Anniversary // self para

Mady hardly considered this a family fun day. Some could argue Stella was far too young to truly understand why, on the same day each year, they visited a place lined with gray smooth stones in perfect rows or why one stone in particular made her mother look so sad. It wasn’t a place for a three year old toddler, but she would rather avoid sugarcoating the truth rather than her little girl spending years wondering why she didn’t have a father. Madyson knew the heartache that came with it all too well, yearning to know what really happened to her folks. She knew the obsession and when she did come upon the truth...she wished she had just left well enough alone. Her father, obsessed with the occult and the woman he set his sights on, forcing a marriage and a pregnancy just to rob his daughter of her parents for his selfishly deranged reasons. Madyson denied she ever inherited anything from him, but resilience and the desire to dig had to come from somewhere.

“Alright, little munchkin, out we go.” Madyson reached over and clicked off Stella’s booster seat belt as she gingerly lifted the child in her arms before closing the back door with a click of a lock. Being a single parent with a full-time profession meant life was a constant balancing act, so during the off chance the good doctor did receive a day away from the office, she spent as much of it with her daughter as she possibly could. Although, the balancing act became quite a literal one, as she weighed the child in one hand and a small bouquet of flowers in another.

Madyson made the usual familiar route through the labyrinth of headstones, stopping for a moment to pluck a few flowers from the bouquet to set atop her mother’s grave. She would have stayed longer, maybe read her favorite book for a while, but this specific day was reserved for someone else as it always was every year.

Another year. Another year without him.

She remembered the day last year. The weather was an unfortunately cloudy forecast with the highest chance of rain, and now apart from a spot or two of fluffy white clouds, it’s the brightest day they’ve had this year thus far. Mady played the optimist and cared to believe Mother Nature’s cooperation reflected the vast improvement of her current life situation compared to where she was 365 days prior. That wasn’t saying much either. The city was still corrupt, her patients were still suffering, and not even pure optimism could change the fact she lost both parents and a fiancé.

She lowered Stella to the ground as they reached Theo’s grave marker, moving to crouch to her knees right there in the grass with the knowledge they weren’t going anywhere for a bit. “Go set these right on that ledge there, okay?” Mady handed over the flowers to the toddler and watched Stella slowly place them along the grave’s base before she waddled over straight into her mother’s arms. “Say hi to Daddy.” The blonde whispered, smiling as she heard Stella’s equally soft ‘hi, daddy’ while cradling the young girl close.

“Hi, Theo.” It never hurt any less speaking his name out loud no matter how many years pass. Madyson knew time healed all wounds, but it didn’t do a very thorough job with the scars still left. “I’m back, we’re back, just like we promised. It’s a very beautiful day, you would’ve loved it.” A brief glance around and back, “You remember how hard it was for me to tell stories. I never know where to start and I‘ll probably end up going off track like I always do, but you reminded me I should start from the beginning.” Mady pressed her lips together in a pondering manner, “Fiora’s doing well. She’s really enjoying childcare and I cannot tell you how wonderful it is having a reliable nanny on call all the time. It’s like Mary Poppins. Oh, and of course, Harrison’s still Harrison. I still haven’t answered the mystery in getting him to smile.” She paused, “Can’t blame him, truthfully. There isn’t many reasons to smile nowadays, especially here.”

“Stella’s close to starting preschool.” Madyson’s confidence in keeping the one-sided conversation light-hearted dropped almost instantly. “You should see our daughter now, Theo, how much she’s grown. She’s got your mess of hair.” She ruffled Stella’s locks, earning a small giggle from the tike and a teary-eyed smile from herself, “I really wish you were here to see her, Theo. She asks about you every day and I don’t know what to tell her. I have to give her just a small piece of information about you and every time I do, it’s like the air’s sucked from the room. And I can’t breathe.” Mady watched her vision blur and quickly lifted a hand to wipe away what spilled over. No, she wouldn’t do this now. If she wanted to teach her daughter what strength is, turning into a blubbering mess won’t do anyone any good. Besides, if she started crying now...it was a fear she would never be able to stop. “I’ve barely stumbled through three years trying to raise her without you and it won’t get any easier. I’m trying, but I’m making a million mistakes.”

Stella rested her head against Madyson’s shoulder, an action alone capable of sending her emotions spiraling, but also grounding her to reality. “I was a mess last year. I’m still a mess right now, but I feel a little less lost than I did before.” Mady’s gaze drifted to the recently trimmed grass, “I know you would’ve wanted me to chase happiness wherever I went and, um, I...I found it. His name’s Derek. A detective.” Her Derek. “He’s been called stuffy and no-nonsense and a bit of a grump if you mess with his food, but he has the biggest heart you would ever see. You just need to know how to dig deep for it.” Derek Monaghan, the enigma, the stubborn, the protector. The father. “He could never replace you, Theo. Just because I’ve fallen in love with someone else, doesn’t mean I’d ever fall out of love with you. He’s lost people he cares about and I think he understands that more than anyone. And I know no one could ever take your place as Stella’s father nor would I want them to, but I wouldn’t bring someone into her life if I wasn’t sure they’d stick around. Derek’s a good man.”

Madyson grew quiet as she permitted the silence to occupy the space around the pair. “All I know is I can’t be enough for our baby girl, Theo.” The words tumbled from her lips as a once unspoken truth she never would have admitted, “I told myself all she needed was one parent. One parent who could love her unconditionally and she’d want for nothing, but we were supposed to raise her together.” It seemed like a far away dream. Foolish, naive. “How am I supposed to tell her why you were taken from us? How do I look her in the eyes and show her a cruel world we live in? It’s not fair, Theo, it’s not fair.” The tears were spilling from her eyes now, twisting her throat in a pleading sob. Unlike a moment previously, Mady chose to just let them be. “I don’t know how to do any of this without you even after all this time. I miss you so much.”

“Don’t cry, Mommy.” Madyson felt a small tap on her shoulder as her blurry gaze landed on Stella. She used the back of her hand to wipe her cheeks and leaned forward to press her lips to the girl’s forehead. “Mommy’s just sad and it’s...it’s okay to be sad sometimes.” She reached out and cupped Stella’s small face in her hands, “Daddy loved you very, very much, Stella. I don’t want you ever forgetting that. Can you promise Mommy you’ll always remember?” The child’s expression grew puzzled, mirroring a look reminiscent of her mother’s own before nodding, “I promise.”

“That’s my good girl.” Mady kissed the top of Stella’s head and slowly rose to stand before sweeping the child in her arms, “I think it’s time to go, my love.” The woman knew herself. She would stay posted at that grave until dusk if they didn’t leave regardless how emotionally drained she felt. Three long years couldn’t scrub the pain away and no amount of time can, but there was a significant difference between last year and this one. She had Derek waiting for her. Madyson ran her gaze along the name staring back at her for a long beat. Theo Williams. A haunting name she will have to carry with her for the rest of her life. The word once carried love and now held an overwhelming melancholy too heart-shattering to give a proper description. It’s also the name to give her strength.

It did cross her mind the reason she and Stella were at the cemetery in the first place. As Madyson turned to leave, the simple sentence effortlessly lingered from her lips.

“Happy Birthday, Theo.”

#self para #anniversary #wow shitty title go me

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restlessmaknae · 7 years

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Case of emergency #1

Word count: 1043

Genre: fluff, comedy, romcom, romance

Pairing: vet!Jin & OC

Warning: -

Chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5

Dr. Kim Seokjin is the most perfect vet that you could ask for. Even if you think that he’s more in love with your dog than with you.

Barney was sick again.

He didn’t sleep, he didn’t eat and he barely drank. Every time I was near him, he gazed at me with his mesmerizing toffee-brown eyes but his orbs were so lifeless that I couldn’t help but wonder what had I done to deserve such behaviour. I didn’t remember that I had committed anything against him. I always gave him enough food and water, took care of his shiny fur and every single day, I even took him for a walk. What could be the matter then?

Oh yes, if I failed to mention, Barney was my fluffy little dog – a 3-years-old golden retriever. He had been my constant companion for 3 years now, small wonder why he meant so much to me. Whether I was single, whether I wasn’t, he was always there to cheer me up.

Yet, he was sick again. I had already taken him to the vet 3 times but he relapsed. They said that it was normal at his age because he eventually became older and was more exposed to illnesses. Despite the fact that I had tried my best to help him get through this state, he didn’t get any better. My poor little dog…

„What should I do?” I murmured frantically as I patted Barney’s head. He looked at me with his cute puppy eyes and whimpered a little. I let out a small albeit tired sigh. I must have been such a terrible owner.

„Maybe I should bring you to a different vet. What do you think about that, Barney?” I forced a smile to make him believe that I actually felt more at ease than I looked like. However, I was absolutely terrible at acting and he also knew that. Dogs were man’s best friends after all.

After giving it some thought, I realised that it would be the best if I really took him to a different expert. But who? The question hit me like a tornado. I didn’t know anyone apart from Mr. Oh who was actually excellent at his field but he never had a single pet, so he couldn’t really understand their emotions. Not like I was the Dog Whisperer or something but I had learned maybe a thing or two since I got Barney.

In the end, help came when I least expected it. I was actually taking Barney for a walk – or to be precise, I literally dragged him out of the flat since he didn’t want to move an inch. It was a brand new symptom, he did his best to move as little as possible and it was seriously getting on my nerves. What was wrong with him?

„Hey,” Jungkook - my neighbour - cheerfully waved in my direction when he caught sight of the slightly awkward scene with my dog.

The guy was my next door neighbour in the same block of flats, so we had known each other since I moved here. He was quite a nice guy, a bit shy but a prominently polite and light-hearted one. Plus, he loved dogs, so whenever I was away, he took care of Barney for me.

„He seems a bit under the weather,” he came closer to us, just to crouch down to my puppy and gently pat his head. My dog apparently enjoyed his touch as he didn’t even flinch. He got used to Jungkook’s presence by now and they also became friends. As soon as I got Barney three years ago, the younger boy became much more interested in his neighbour’s life than ever before. It didn’t take me long to realise that it was all because he was seriously in love with puppies.

„I know,” I admitted with a bit of guilt running through me. I was quite fed up with the nonsense the vets had said to me because I was sure that my dog didn’t suffer from ear infections – it’s merely an example, they said even worse – because he didn’t have a lack of balance and he didn’t have unusual back-and-forth eye movements either. Yet, I had no idea what to do. I felt helpless.

„Have you been to the animal clinic lately?” he furrowed his eyebrows in question as he looked up at me.

„Yes, but they always say the same.”

„I actually know a guy who’s said to be a really good vet,” he suddenly blurted out and clenched his jaw. „He’s my best friend’s brother, so I can assure you that he has good manners. If you are interested, I can give you his number. Not like he doesn’t have tons of female clients already,” he said as a matter-of-factly and boosted such a boyish smile that I felt a need to swipe that grin off his face. Some things never change.

“Oh really?” I knitted my eyebrows together, inwardly taking a mental note that it shouldn’t have been a surprise, boys were usually as cunning as Jungkook. “Should I take it as a hint?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” he raised his arms in defeat but the beaming light in his pitch-black eyes actually indicated the opposite. Gosh, I never thought that Jungkook would try to set me up with a guy, not mention that it was his best friend’s brother whom we had been talking about!

“Just give me his number.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he jumped up and saluted. I snickered whole-hearted upon seeing his adorable reaction. That’s exactly why it was so fun to be neighbours with Jeon Jungkook. “I hope he would be able to help you,” he said with a more serious tone as he jotted down a phone number and a name. Kim Seokjin. Well, I had never heard about him before but as long as he didn’t say the good old lines, I was alright with it.

After a proper thank you and a cosy goodbye, with the blue post-it note in my hand, I almost stepped into the elevator when Jungkook’s voice reached me.

“By the way, he’s still single,” he hollered loudly, so that I could still hear him.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have the chance to shout anything back because the elevator’s door closed and I was already calling that so-called Kim Seokjin.

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ellymackay · 5 years

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Data Says You Are Probably Not Sleeping Or Relaxing Enough

The following blog article Data Says You Are Probably Not Sleeping Or Relaxing Enough was first published on Elly Mackay's Sleep Blog

The Data Says That You’re Probably Not Sleeping or Relaxed Enough

Everyone says that they like to relax, but a new study finds that people aren’t practicing what they preach. From going on vacation to getting a good night’s rest, the citizens of the world are severely underperforming. If you ever wonder how you can get a better night of sleep and wake up rested, try my free masterclass on getting better sleep, you’ll wake up happy you did!

I recently commented on the release of the 10th Annual Relaxation Survey which held some very interesting and somewhat troubling statistics. When it comes to a good night’s sleep, fifty-three percent of Americans are sleep-deprived and only fifty-four percent of Americans utilize all their days off of work.

Although many are fatigued here in the United States, we aren’t the most sleep- and vacation-deprived country in the world. We’re close though. (We’re ranked #4.) The honor or, maybe, dishonor of being the most sleep-deprived country falls to the United Kingdom. Two-thirds (66%) of the UK are sleep-deprived with Singapore (61%) and Australia (59%) close behind.

The UK also ranked at the bottom in days taken off to catch up on sleep with only four days taken (on average) per year. The United States and Australia tied for second at seven days.

I’ve spoken at great length about the importance of a good night’s sleep. However, I think what gets mentioned a little bit less is the importance of relaxation. Stress and anxiety are both very disruptive and are hallmark symptoms of insomnia.

If you have vacation days, It’s not a waste to use them, even if that day off is used just to catch up on your sleep. You’ll be more relaxed, less prone to anxiety and stress and healthier overall. (I recommend taking a Princess Cruise and sleeping in one of their Princess Luxury Beds that I helped design. That’s how I relax.)

How Being in Nature Helps with Insomnia

On National Relaxation Day, I went on TV in Utah and spoke there about the aforementioned Relaxation Survey, and while I was on the air I discussed a Utah-based study where people with insomnia went camping and within two weeks their insomnia was gone.

There has been several positive investigations that demonstrate that camping can alleviate insomnia. It helps to reset circadian rhythms which regulate sleep, appetite, mood, digestion, cognitive function and sexual performance, so yes, camping can really be a nice tool to get your sleep cycle back where it’s supposed to be. However, there other sleep-related benefits to trekking boldly into the great outdoors:

Stress and anxiety reduction

Lower blood pressure

Conducive to positive thinking

Exposure to sunlight

Cuts down on exposure to electrical light

Helps produce melatonin

Utah, beautiful as it is, might be the ideal state for camping and enjoying the outdoors, but camping in any stretch of wilderness will work just fine.

Make Sure to Get Support from Your Mattress

If all this talk of relaxation isn’t making you a little excited about resting in your bed, it might be time to think of getting a new mattress.

A mattress is a piece of equipment that can enhance performance in the same way that an athletic shoe can. You might have heard me say this before but using a low-quality mattress is like running a footrace in flip-flops. You’re going to lose the race, and you’re going to have a bad time doing it.

Maybe the most important factor of finding a new mattress is balancing comfort and support. Everyone’s idea of comfort is going to be different. Some people like a firm mattress. There are those who idealize a big, fluffy marshmallow type of bed. Neither preference is technically better, but if you prefer a soft bed, you need to make sure that you have enough support so that your spine is aligned and that your muscles can relax.

Here are a few specific things that you should be looking for in terms of support.

Support the sleeper without the hips sinking into the mattress

Relief at the pressure points: head, knees, hips and shoulders

Allows relaxation of the muscles, especially the back muscles

Stiffness is good sign that your mattress is not providing adequate support.

You can shop for a new mattress from your own bed.

Q: When I stay up too late, I laugh at things that aren’t funny and sometimes spout goofy nonsense. I’m usually pretty reserved. Why do I act differently late at night?

When you stay up too late, your brain slowly tilts out of whack. A few years back, researchers examined the brains of sleep-deprived subjects with an MRI. They found that the amygdalas of the test subjects had gone into hyperdrive. The amygdala is responsible for emotions and survival instincts. It’s what they sometimes call your lizard brain or the fear center.

When your amygdala is overactive, it overrides the prefrontal cortex, and we use the prefrontal cortex for all our fancy logic and reasoning. With our logic and reasoning impaired, we are at the whim of our emotions and survival instincts. Even a reserved person like yourself may act out of character.

Being extremely sleepy is similar to being drunk. This is a good reminder that driving while drowsy is as dangerous as driving under the influence of alcohol. Don’t do it The side effects of short-term sleep deprivation can include:

Low Tolerance to Stress

Emotional Instability

Short-Term Memory Loss

Cognition Issues

Decrease in Performance

Irritability

A healthy person can stay up late every once and a while without any long-term health risks. College students are, for the most part, going to be OK cramming all night for an exam, at least healthwise. Their grades might suffer from lack of sleep though.

That’s all for this week! here is another article I was featured in this week that you may enjoy.

4 Legit Reasons Why Employees Should Be Able To Nap On The Job – ThriveGlobal.com

Sweet Dreams, Dr. Michael Breus

The post Data Says You Are Probably Not Sleeping Or Relaxing Enough appeared first on Your Guide to Better Sleep.

from Your Guide to Better Sleep https://thesleepdoctor.com/2019/08/24/data-says-you-are-probably-not-sleeping-or-relaxing-enough/

from Elly Mackay - Feed https://www.ellymackay.com/2019/08/24/data-says-you-are-probably-not-sleeping-or-relaxing-enough/

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char27martin · 7 years

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How to Stop Yourself from Obsessing Over Duplicating Writing Success

Especially after a success or two, I see that sometimes I try too hard while writing. Elated at that recent byline—or whatever it may be—and beginning to believe I really am a writer, I seek to duplicate glory.

This guest post is by Noelle Sterne. Author, editor, writing coach, workshop leader, and spiritual counselor, Sterne has published more than 400 writing craft articles, spiritual pieces, essays, and short stories. Publications include Author Magazine, Chicken Soup for the Soul, Children’s Book Insider, Coffeehouse For Writers, Funds for Writers, InnerSelf, New Age Journal, Sasee, Story Monsters Ink, Unity Magazine, Writer’s Journal, The Writer, and Writer’s Digest. Academic editor and coach, with a Ph.D. from Columbia University, she helps doctoral students wrestling with their dissertations and publishes articles in several blogs for dissertation writers. Her book Trust Your Life: Forgive Yourself and Go After Your Dreams (Unity Books) contains examples from her practice, writing, and other aspects of life to help readers release regrets, relabel their past, and reach lifelong yearnings. Her book Challenges in Writing Your Dissertation: Coping With the Emotional, Interpersonal, and Spiritual Struggles (Rowman & Littlefield Education, 2015) further aids doctoral candidates to award of their degrees.

The signs are unmistakable, whether for a new piece, a revision of an older one, or one final look before submission. I giggle at the puns. I murmur self-approval at the turns of phrase. I hear readers’ gasps of delight at my ingenuity. Worst of all, a red warning flare shoots through my brain—Oh, oh, ego ascendant.

If I don’t pay attention to that flare, I know it heralds disaster: I’m trying too hard. The work cannot help reflect this over-conscious effort. The technique, wordplay, and resplendent diction I so admire somehow overpowers whatever message I want to convey.

Overdoing

Poet, novelist, and professor Stephen Taylor Goldsberry in The Writer’s Book of Wisdom: 101 Rules for Mastering Your Craft warns us, “Try not to overdo it. … Beware of contrived lyrical embellishment and fluffy metaphors.” I would add to beware of too eloquent, balanced rhetoric; repetition for effect; overly ripe similes; too-intricate expositions; and too-pithy observations.

More cautions: In Dare to Be a Great Writer (how’s that for a challenging, uplifting title?), novelist, editor, and writing teacher Leonard Bishop observes that all of us know with undeniable certainty that we possess “a talent capable of lyrical flights, able to use prose in a style so grand that [we] can make great poets seem like senile doodlers.” Bishop (using the generalized masculine pronoun) hurries to dispel any approval of this observation: “As he becomes more professional, he works to control this vanity.”

After I devoured Elizabeth Gilbert’s Eat Pray Love, I read a transcript of an interview with her. Working on her next book, she said, she produced 500 pages trying to imitate her bestseller. Her style was similarly breezy, flippant, and pseudo-deep. Gilbert finally realized what she was doing; she knew she had to junk the whole new draft. Then, no longer trying to duplicate the earlier success, she wrote a completely different and honest book, Committed. And Committed was successful in its own right.

[72 of the Best Quotes About Writing]

Trying Trying

Like Gilbert in her post-E-P-L foray, when we try—even with all our might—we end up failing or at least falling short. I think of a friend’s story about his father, who came from Italy, settled in New Jersey, and founded an automotive products store.

As a twelve-year-old, my friend helped his father after school in the store. One day, his father instructed him to unpack a shipment of tires and stack them in a certain corner for maximum display. The boy answered, “I’ll try.”

In his limited but effective English, his father bellowed, “No try! You do!” My friend did. And never forgot the lesson.

Do … Or Don’t

Our writing lesson? We shouldn’t try. We do, or don’t. Maybe it means not writing at all for a while, walking away, or actually shelving the project. Or writing a lot of nonsense first, accompanied by that horrid, hollow feeling that we know it’s trash.

Or incessantly using the slash/option method. This is one of my favorites/best practices/most helpful methods/greatest techniques for skirting stuckness and continuing to slog. Or going back countless times to excise, refine, replace, restructure, or even—like Gilbert—pitch it all out and start again.

Trying means we’re writing too self-consciously, usually to impress or force. In contrast, doing, like my friend’s immigrant father knew, means total immersion. However many drafts we need, however many flailings in the creative mud we dare, our success rests not in trying—but in doing.

[Finding the Right Writing Inspiration for Your Life]

Talk to Yourself

When you suspect you’re trying too hard or you’re tempted to do so, remind yourself of a few things, like I must (more often than I like to admit). Stop trying to be clever and knowing. Stop trying to beat out your writing colleagues. Stop trying to show off your wit and dazzle everyone. Stop trying to replicate your just-success.

Tell yourself you’re not talking to them. We know who: the friends and family we so ardently want to show we’re not wasting our time; the editors who dangle acceptance, publication, and even a small check; the agents whom we envision stumbling on this piece and rushing to call or email us with an offer of representation and suggestion to make this essay into a book they will sell at auction to the most powerful mega-publisher; the endorsers who will exalt us; the critics who will worship us; the moguls who will magically make our words flesh in the great film; the fleets of tweeters and repeaters who will blast our dazzling new name through the galaxies …

Go Apart

All that trying for all those external outcomes cuts off your talent and expressive truth and especially your honesty as a writer.

Instead, go apart, mentally and physically. Take deep breaths, meditate, stretch, swim, sleep.

Talk only to yourself. As you shut out all that trying, paradoxically, when you go inside, those outside accolades will come more easily. And always paradoxically, as you shut out all of them and go deeper alone, you will reach the reader who is the mirror of you.

I’m reminded of this truth by Bill Kenower, the wonderful writer and editor of Author Magazine: “The quickest route to another person’s heart is through my own. The deeper into my own experiences I dive, the further I go beneath the surface of time and place and circumstance, the more I am able to find those currents flowing endlessly from soul to soul to soul.”

Going deeper—dare I say communing—is not at all indulgent. It is why you are here. You will reach your Self, the Self who knows what you really want to write and what gives you the greatest satisfaction. You will reach the Self who knows why you’re here, blessed/cursed with this drive and talent, and who will direct you to flow it out. Believe it. Allow it. Receive it all.

Trust yourself. Trust that mysterious and wholly reliable Voice inside that gives you every answer every time you ask, unencumbered, What do I do next?

Turn away from trying, relax your forced and fevered labor. Listen to your Creative Soul and just write.

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from Writing Editor Blogs – WritersDigest.com http://www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/guide-to-literary-agents/stop-obsessing-duplicating-writing-success

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