#ACNE League meeting

[tanglepelt]

Dc x dp idea 11

More of a funny shenanigans one.

Danny has been chasing his rouges all throughout the country. Whatever city he is in some form of shenanigans occur. Due to the GIW he decided to do it human. He has his parents travel devices and inventions so it will be easy peasy.

Metropolis he steals some kryptonite and feeds it to cujo. Obviously cujo is coming as a guard dog. Danny can’t control him plus the dog could smell the ecto candy. Danny is munching some as well all while he soups whichever rouge it is.

Central city he bugs the flash about how he could mess with the flow of time. He thinks it’s cool and clockwork allows it cause it’s funny. (Clockwork let’s ppl figure out not to mess with time themselves. Danny leaned when vlad ended up with his mom and jack had ecto acne flash would figure it out) But he just tells it to Barry no care that he isn’t in costume.

Runs into wonder woman and is just an absolutely fanboy. Gushing. About everything she’s done. He drops knowledge about feats he shouldn’t know cause pandora told him stories about her.

Runs into Constantine and just praises him for his soul selling. It’s just chaos whenever the ghost council meets. Danny is a gremlin he got in a prank war with vlad he absolutely would think it’s hilarious. He knows a few beings who bought his soul as well and name drops them.

Youngblood wants to do an underwater adventure. He’s been a cowboy and pirate so why not underwater diver. So now Danny is in the ocean dealing with an enemy aqua man can’t see. Aqua lad is just describing Youngblood with googles on. Danny has a fenton work product letting him dive in the sea. Anything with Youngblood is a shenanigans enough said.

In Gotham he wasn’t expecting a not quite a halfa, red hood. Now when his rouge goes to cause property damage he goes to soup them. It sucks in red hood. Danny didn’t want red hood soup.

Danny then panics trying to release the thermos. All while the batfam are watching the exchange. Danny is frantically apologizing and just failing to open it.

By the time he gets it open he is just embarrassed. His rouge is free and took off. So Danny goes invisible forgetting he was supposed to act human and pretends it never happened.

The next justice league would be hilarious

[wordywhiskers]

The Birth of the Pill by Jonathan Eig - Book Review

"...The Pill was The Pill because it was the only one that mattered, the one everyone was talking about, the one they needed.”

I bought The Birth of the Pill from an indie bookstore during a vacation in West Texas. I was very interested in the history of contraception, especially regarding the pill. In large part, this is because the pill has evolved into more than just a tool for contraception. The pill is now an avenue to regulate menstrual cycles, control pain from cramps, clear stubborn acne, and more. It was so interesting to read about the inception of the birth control movement and the creation of the pill.

What I loved about The Birth of the Pill is the structure. The author, Jonathan Eig, tells the stories of four different significant figures within the contraception movement. By doing this he turns a lengthy and complicated historical piece into something more akin to a fiction novel's narrative. Four main characters - feminist movement spearhead Margaret Sanger, the passionate and wealthy Katherine McCormick, determined biologist Gregory Pincus, and unconventional Catholic doctor John Rock, are the biggest drivers of the birth control movement during this time.

Let’s move on to a brief summary of these four characters. I’m barely scratching the surface here, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to write a little about how these four band together!

Margaret Sanger’s mission for life was to make birth control universally available to all women regardless of their circumstances. In a time when it was widely unaccepted by most, she pushed people to consider the benefits of contraception and often challenged legislature that prevented women from accessing information and products related to birth control. She was the founder of the American Birth Control League, which would eventually become the Planned Parenthood Federation. When she met biologist Gregory Pincus in 1951, they got to work right away on developing a safe and effective birth control method, the pill.

Gregory Pincus was a biologist who was extremely well-versed in reproductive science. He tested his biological research on rabbits, such as IVF and hormone injections. In a time of skepticism regarding topics such as “babies born in glass”, he was ostracized for his bold research by the general public as well as his academic peers. Pincus would eventually get involved with Sanger and Katherine McCormick to develop a birth control pill. His research on hormones gave him the confidence he could deliver. He collaborated with Dr. John Rock, a distinguished obstetrician and gynecologist, who believed in the cause due to his experience seeing women suffer during unwanted pregnancies in his clinic.

Dr. John Rock worked in obstetrics and gynecology and was a Harvard professor who educated students on birth control. He published a book, Voluntary Parenthood, that served as a guide to birth control for the general population. He agreed to work with Pincus on the pill and became essential to the movement not only in research but as a presentable representation of the cause. As a devout Catholic, he gave hope to those who would deny birth control for religious reasons. Rock spoke out frequently about the Church’s unfair opposition to the pill. He challenged the views about the interplay of religion and contraception, which was key to mass acceptance of birth control.

Katherine McCormick was essentially the sole benefactor of the creation of the pill. McCormick was born into a wealthy family in Chicago and earned her bachelor’s in biology from MIT. Much like Margaret Sanger, she was a woman’s rights activist during a period when controlling women’s minds and bodies was still a societal norm. These two daring women meet and form an unstoppable force against the stigmas about contraception. McCormick’s inheritance left to her by her husband gave her complete freedom to back the birth control movement. Anytime Pincus needed funds to continue research or testing, McCormick was there with her checkbook.

I would recommend this book to anyone who is interested in learning more about contraception or women’s history. It could be a touch too in-depth for some readers, but I found the experience to be rewarding overall! If this brief summary interests you, I would strongly encourage you to dive into the book. There are so many intriguing details that went into the production of the pill, and all the moving parts involved kept me engaged throughout.

[twothpaste]

chapter opener i finished recently, featuring a tazmily town hall meeting where lucas n' his neighbors debate the fate of chimeras in a postgame world :')

When Porky took Leder, there'd been no place left for him anyways. His bell tower soon to be razed, and paved right over. His memory, ironically enough, soon to be unceremoniously dissolved. Surely his height marked him as an untenable outlier. His sealed lips, insubordination of the highest degree. Silence was heresy back in those days. It branded little Lucas a black sheep, too. Sob your guts out, or concede there was nothin' left to say. Either way, you're outta line. Y'couldn't win, with neighbors turned swine.

Kid had proven his heart the biggest outta all of 'em. Did it long before layin' hands on any o' those Needles. Stop short at the crossroads, to take an upward gander. The tall, vast, heavenward gap between six years old n' twenty feet tall. He'd shield his sun-dazzled eyes, lifting a freckled forearm. Wave his spare hand. Sway its precious cargo.

"Hiya, Mister Leder. How're you today?"

A smile flittered down, carried by the mornin' shine.

"Eheh. M'glad to hear it. Psst. Hey. I gotcha summ'n…"

A hesitant hand descended. All taffy-stretched bones, and veins, and worn crinkles. Lucas raised the loaf as high as his tiny hands n' tippy-toes'd go. Nuts n' bread were a dime a dozen, o' course. But couldn't no one else bake a batch so scrumptious. Good ol' Missus Hinawa Westwood was in a league all her own.

Maybe this'd never been any place for either of 'em. Or her. Or the lot of 'em.

Or. Maybe his apocalyptic pessimism was just gettin' the better of him. As it's wont to do, every now n' again.

The honorable judge presided now over his four hundred and seventy-second hearing. He remembers 'em all, if you were curious. In excruciating detail. From Eaglelandian war crimes to White Ship spats. Humble as he may be, there's a good reason Tazmily chose him for his noble task, besides sheer verticality. Madman's got a Betamax for a brain. Be it a blessing or a curse.

"… management, maintenance, n' rehabilitation. As Nowhere's Ranger Service, really, our goal is gettin' back to where we were, erm. Before." Isaac nudged his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Voice like ashes crumpled underfoot. He'd put up a noble speech, to be sure. Albeit punctuated by his pensive pause.

Lucas, all anxious nerves, reputation rubbed raw, nonetheless held his place beside him. Stalwart pillar of sticks n' stones. The hero who wore no cape nor shining armor. Just a scrappy flannel, over lanky arms. And a half-chiseled, acne-addled countenance.

When he spoke - in that low, steady, novel rumble - the paternal resemblance gave even Flint himself goosebumps.

"People n' wildlife can coexist. Like we used to. If we're willin' to put in the work."

Turn your stovetop knob, and heat the town hall's bustle to a low boil. There were Betsy n' Jackie, murmuring amongst themselves. Biff n' Butch, doin' the same. To the tune of Jill's silencing snap. Most folks had filed into these creaky old seats with intent to vote "present." But one could hardly ignore the Ostrelephant in the room. Jonel would be its bullhorn.

"That's precisely the issue. Chimeras aren't wildlife." And the sky isn't pink. He stood, proudly, for such things. Atop creaky knees and shins. (Though Dona did have to help him clamber to his feet.) "You expect us to coexist with monsters? Forever? It's childish at best. Lucas, I can forgive your naivete. But Isaac? You ought to know better."

"'Scuse me?"

"Order," Leder croaked. A singular raised index finger, a sip from his water canteen, and a hush over the hall. No gavel strike necessary. "Order. Jonel?"

"Pardon," Jonel said. (Though he wouldn't beg.) "There's only one solution for the menace infesting our woods. Anyone who says otherwise? I believe they're kidding themselves. That's all."

Their elder's dissent, and subsequent descent, were met with no protest. Just Isaac's steely frown. And Lucas' deep, focused, evenly-paced breaths.

Let it.

A psychic, had any others attended, would've felt the aura's feverous simmer. But Tazmilian politics're no place for his sister. She'd proclaimed so herself. Andonuts had installed a calendar program in his brother's left brain, years prior. Claus marked the date. Highlighted it - a bright, cautionary red.

And took a shift at the wind farm.

Can't blame him.

Magenta, magenta, yellow.

"Have we any further thoughts?" coaxed Leder.

"Well."

Even standing, Andonuts was far too squat for most to see, across a field of perked heads. The Doctor's accent would have to suffice. Paired with his quaint, crinkly, nonagenarian timbre.

"I'm afraid I must concur with the former point. Chimeras were not designed to integrate into natural ecosystems. Ha! Quite the contrary! Many were reconstructed with the explicit intent to cause as much disruption as possible!"

Jonel glanced about, eyebrows perked. Ed's faint murmur, "Right outta the horse's mouth, huh…" caught his nodding attention.

"… That said, with regards to chimera research, my student and I have been making great strides. They can be pacified. And relocated, to environments that better suit them. I daresay, there may indeed be sustainable solutions. If Tazmily were to establish this Ranger operation, the two of us would be more than happy to collaborate."

"And, if not? Or, if these Rangers fail to keep the chimeras in check?" Ed inquired, with a raised hand. Jonel would push the bill a step further.

"Would you also be happy to assist in their extermination, if it came to that? Doctor?"

"Mm… If we do find ourselves in an otherwise untenable scenario? Perhaps, yes."

Andonuts spent his golden years an eccentric recovering centrist. Claus forgave him ages ago. Lucas makes his best efforts. This recollection, in particular, still demands he strain his mercy through clenched teeth.

Like their father, he said nothing. You can call it patience.

"That just don't seem right, is all…"

A couple dozen turned to size up the latest opinion. 'Course, Abbott's no easier to spot beneath a crowd. Those nearest would see Abbey risin' to his side. N' the smiley-faced bairn - an absolute tater tot - strapped snug to his chest. 'Course, no sooner than Abbott opened his mouth to stake a humble point, little Abelle piped right up. Drawing him instead to gently shush her bubbly baby babbles. "Oh, sorry, sorry. Gosh, what'samatter, lil' bits? Shh. Shhh…"

(Unbeknownst to anybody at all - the invisible strands she was pawin' and hawin' at were, in fact, magenta-yellow wavelengths.)

"What Abbott means, I reckon," Abbey volunteered, "Is that it'd be awful cruel to.. well. To do away with 'em. Don't get us wrong - we've dealt with chimera attacks as much as the rest o' ya. N' we want Nowhere to be a safe place for our daughter to grow up, o' course. But… ah.."

Her eyelids slipped faintly shut. Only a moment. As if recalling some long-bygone horror. With no hummingbird egg nor ringing bell to keep the smog at bay, it had all come seeping back. Couldda taken the shape of a TV news report. Rigor mortis. Perhaps a mushroom cloud. Whichever. Every scathing scrap, beheld by the big, teary doe eyes of a mere fawn.

".. This world's seen far too much killin' already. I think."

"Agreed," said Flint. His sole verbal contribution. Upon his neighbors' silent judgments and sympathies, he pulled the brim of his hat lower. And cleared his throat.

Brief as it was somber, a smile flickered - cyan - past Lucas' ramparts.

Abelle quieted down. With a giggle. Much to Abbott's grinnin' relief. "Heh - erm. Yep.. Agreed, indeed." He cast a warily appreciative gaze toward the hulking, skulking cowboy. Then extended an arm around his wife's shoulder. The lot of 'em hunkered back into quiet obscurity.

"It's like stray cats," came Nana's contribution. Hand raised high, outta the wild blue yonder. "Or. Maybe not, exactly. We had a colony of them, living under the post office. And they were real ornery, wouldn't let you near. Bateau told me to stop feeding them, after they caught one of his doves." Cue the rolling eyes, and yawns. Elbows n' palms propping up bored-already chins. "But they'd only come close if I fed them, see. Only when they trusted me enough - then I could get them in carriers, and move them to the woods, by the crossroads. And so long as I make sure they stay fed, they won't need to come back to the post office, or hunt Bateau's doves, or cause trouble for anyone."

Bateau - arms n' legs crossed, camped out somewhere far in the back - huffed a sigh so dramatic, you'd think he was a Shakespearean actor.

"So. Maybe it's like that. Every animal has needs. Even people, and chimeras. If the Rangers can take good care of the chimeras, maybe they won't be as much of a bother."

"Yeah. That's, ehm. That's the idea…" Isaac murmured.

Jill stood up to contend. "Or maybe that'll get 'em too familiar. And then they'll come closer to town. Stir up even more of a ruckus. Don't you know, they used to warn you about this exact thing, with bears. You kids're too young to remember. Had to shoot the poor things, when they got too comfortable with people. I think Jonel's got a point. It all comes back around to--"

"-- This is different."

She stopped short. Left her big mouth hangin' wide open. 'Cause it sure as hell ain't like Lucas to interrupt.

"… Sorry," he said. With not quite a fist, clutched almost to his chest. "Sorry."

"No, no. Do tell. Go on." Jill conceded, with both hands raised. A hint of snark on her lips. Wouldda made Lucas wince, if he were five or six years younger. Still stung just the same.

Leder's eyes were sympathy incarnate. His spectacles, however, hovered impartial atop the proceedings. He'd hold his tongue. This time.

"It's.. different. The way we're doin' it. Isaac used to be a park ranger. We know all that, already."

Rather than elaborate, Isaac opted for a gingerly nod. Leave it to two of Tazmily's most tormented introverts to deliver a founding presentation. Lucas would steady his spine, though. Stand firm before the naysayers. Nerves ablaze. It doesn't get easier. Nor any less vital.

"Look. Nana's right. They ain't monsters. They're livin' creatures. Got needs that ain't bein' met. We took -- agh. Porky, took 'em… Tore 'em up, put 'em back together, n' set 'em loose to fend for themselves."

And then Tazmily deliberated their fate, over an open floor, as if it were all some absent hypothetical. Some game, just to square their morals. Like he didn't have the bone fractures to show for it. Like the beast that impaled his mother hadn't been a shambling centrifuge of absolute agony. Like his brother wasn't out there, bustin' his ass right under their stuck-up noses, mis-matched hands buildin' their newfangled comforts, their future, they --

Shh.

And something stirred within his guts. Softly as fresh bedsheets, or honeyed tea. Prompted an exhale. A pause. Yellow.

You wanna talk about planted seeds? Hinawa's got a whole garden in there.

Lucas takes great care to tend it. Food, and water. And silence. And words. Like so:

"… Chimeras don't attack people outta some kinda malice. They're.. They're scared. They're hurt. In their shoes? You'd prob'ly do the same." Evidence he carried in spades. There's a scar on his ankle, from his first reluctant bout with a Slitherhen. And another on his forearm, where a sparking blade once braced. He'd locked eyes, just above it. Met tears with tears. Somethin' yet darker - or brighter - than primal terror.

"They've got just as much a right to life, as anyone here," he concluded. Shaking his head. Glancin' downward, at the millimeter gaps in the hardwood.

"Well. I reckon that might be goin' a bit too far," Jill replied. Oblivious to the glares she'd just earned, from about half the crowd. As well as the sage nods, from the like-minded remainder. Biff, cowering beside her, fell into the former camp. Butch, the latter.

Jonel would grab her coattails. Ride 'em, valiantly, into one last round.

"Lucas. You've got your mother's bleeding heart. I respect it. Truly, I do. And I do believe there's a sanctity to our forest, our wilderness, the creatures with which we share these Islands. But these chimeras? Please understand - we'd be doing them a great mercy."

Mercy?

The word - which he mouthed, but did not echo - was Antarctic permafrost to his tongue. Shiver down his spinal fluid. The winding cockles of his brain. How love could erupt into a blinding nova. Turn harsher than steel. Become his fiercest weapon, pulled blood-soaked from his own chest.

Magenta. Yellow. Cyan.

"It's simply unnatural," Jill n' Butch concurred. "Un-natural."

"Tragic shame they're here at all," Ed mumbled, from afar.

"They never were supposed to be here, to begin with," Jonel insisted. Lucas thought, for a split second, Mom forgive him, his throbbing head might just up and explode then and there.

But.

Isaac stepped forward. The forest warden. The hermit. The boot-licking traitor. Who'd shirked his pig's mask, his calamine uniform, his pride - for an old vest that reeked of forest fires. N' a rusty badge. Gold to bronze. Turns out Zeus, and the Commander, ain't the only ones with a penchant for amends.

Wasn't often that someone stood up, in Lucas' stead.

The kid stared. Frozen stiff. Reconstructed Caribou in the headlights. As his fellow amalgamation declared:

"Neither were we."

And if you were seated amongst the crowd, you'd've felt it. The seasick lurch. The tide's tousle, at the rickety feet of every chair. Hardwood floor transfigured, in all of an instant, into a White Ship's deck.

No one - save for little Abelle - had the stomach to pipe up, after that.

Leder's hoarse murmur would follow a queasy, stagnant silence.

"Ehm.. If there are no further objections, or endorsements?"

And there were none.

"Then. Regarding the establishment of Nowhere's Ranger Service… All in favor - say aye…"

[mstudi0s]

🍀 -- Asking yourself -- "Why?" e x e r c i s e

so what this means is whenever you find yourself in a situation where you are thinking a negative thought or even a negative scenario, what you want to do is ask yourself why am I thinking this.

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to try and put this into perspective, I'm going to give an example : I feel like sp does not love me - why ? -> I feel this way because in the past, no one had stayed, and my relationships never lasted - why ? -> because I would always self sabotage and then react, which would ruin it - why did you self sabotage ? -> because I'm afraid of love - why ? because I feel unlovable and unworthy, as if I wouldn't have much to offer

root = you feel unworthy and unlovable

solution = create affirmations centered around feeling worthy and lovable

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-- How do we do this ? -- 🌿 w/ a f f i r m a t i o n s

we fix this issue with the use of affirmations :] I will be writing affirmations for various things so raje what resonates and leaves what doesn't. this exercise is not limited to just sp or money can be used for any negative thoughts that you are facing. it is supposed to help with not only questioning your negative thoughts but also figuring out the root of them so you can uproot it and replant something better.

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I am so loved and worthy

people always treat me wonderfully because I am wonderful

money is so easy for me to obtain

I find it so easy to make money, and I attract money on a daily basis

I am always first pick when applying for colleges

iv leagues are seeking applicators like me cause I always meet all the requirements with ease

they are calling me back to hire me any minute now

getting jobs has always been easy for me, and they always give me the requested hourly I want

my skin is so perfect and has a smooth texture

every time I do my skin care routine, I can feel my acne disappearing instantly

the more I eat the more I lose weight

I have always had a very fast metabolism, and the older I get, the faster it becomes

I have rapunzel hair

every time I cut my hair, it just grows back 2xs more the next day

my life is always perfect no matter what happens

everything I desire manifests within 24 hours because my world takes care of me

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[aariskin]

Who Is The Best Dermatologist In Jaipur

Introduction:

In the bustling city of Jaipur, where tradition meets modernity, the quest for healthy and radiant skin is a pursuit close to the hearts of many. The city is home to numerous dermatologists, each claiming expertise in skincare. However, when it comes to entrusting your skin to a professional, it's crucial to find the Best Dermatologist In Jaipur who combines skill, experience, and a personalized approach to skincare.

Dr. Anita Vijay: A Beacon of Dermatological Excellence

Among the array of dermatologists in Jaipur, Dr. Anita Vijay stands out as a beacon of dermatological excellence. With a stellar reputation built on years of experience and a commitment to patient satisfaction, Dr. vijay has become synonymous with quality skincare in the Pink City.

Why Choose Dr. Anita Vijay?

Extensive Experience:

Dr. Anita Vijay boasts an impressive track record, having successfully treated a diverse range of skin conditions. Her extensive experience enables her to approach skincare with a nuanced understanding, ensuring effective and tailored solutions for each patient.

Holistic Approach:

Unlike a one-size-fits-all approach, Dr. vijay believes in a holistic method to skincare. She considers lifestyle factors, genetic predispositions, and individual concerns to craft personalized treatment plans that address the root causes of skin issues.

Cutting-Edge Technology:

Staying abreast of advancements in dermatological science, Dr. Anita Vijay integrates cutting-edge technology into her practice. From state-of-the-art diagnostic tools to innovative treatment modalities, her clinic is equipped to provide the latest and most effective solutions for various skin conditions.

Patient-Centric Care:

Dr. vijay  commitment to patient-centric care is evident in the compassionate and empathetic approach she adopts. Patients consistently praise her for taking the time to listen, understand their concerns, and involve them in the decision-making process.

Comprehensive Services:

Dr. Anita Vijay offers a wide array of dermatological services, ranging from acne treatment and anti-aging procedures to advanced skincare therapies. This comprehensive approach ensures that patients can find solutions for all their skincare needs under one roof.

Patient Testimonials:

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"I've been to several dermatologists in Jaipur, but Dr. vijay is in a league of her own. The results speak for themselves, and the entire experience is top-notch." - Rahul M.

Conclusion:

In the realm of dermatology in Jaipur, Dr. Anita Vijay emerges as the best choice for those seeking unparalleled expertise and personalized care. With a commitment to excellence, a holistic approach to skincare, and a genuine passion for helping patients achieve radiant and Best Skin Specialist In Jaipur, Dr. vijay clinic is undoubtedly the go-to destination for skincare in the Pink City. If you're in Jaipur and on a quest for flawless skin, trust Dr. Anita Vijay to guide you on your journey to dermatological well-being.

Social Link

Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/aariskinclinic

Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/aariskinclinic

Twitter - https://twitter.com/aariskinclinic

Youtube - https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCIml8dQ1Wuy63bKci5yUB_w

Linkedin - https://www.linkedin.com/in/dranitavijay/

[sonita0526]

नीरज चोपड़ा लंबी चोट के बाद प्रतिस्पर्धा से दूर हो गए नीरज चोपड़ा ने अपनी कोहनी पर सर्जरी के बाद पूरे 2019 सीज़न को गायब करने के बाद, मंगलवार को पोटचेफस्ट्रूम में ACNE लीग की बैठक में 87.86 मीटर की थ्रो के साथ टोक्यो ओलंपिक के लिए क्वालीफाई किया। ओलंपिक [टी] ACNE लीग की बैठक [टी] 2020 टोक्यो ओलंपिक Source link

[robbed-ghost]

DC thoughts cause I have them

- Bruce canonically cannot cook to save his life, but he’d likely adapt and learn to make snacks for dummies (honey on crackers, apple slices, cereal, etc) and those become a lot of the batboys’ comfort foods

- Billy Batson always has his powers but when he’s in his real form/child body it’s proportionate to his size. So he has incredible endurance, strength, speed, and wisdom (and kind of always smells like rain/ozone) but only in relation to a 5th grader.

- Wisdom of Solomon does NOT mean common sense or intelligence. It means Shazam is perceptive and has good judgement based on knowledge he already has. Whether or not that wisdom is based on how wise king Solomon of antiquity was is unknown.

- Jason actually stole the wheels off the batmobile because he made a bet with Catwoman while he was homeless for $50, who 100% thought he was bluffing. She still has three of the wheels under her bed

- Poison Ivy has acne during spring—it’s her version of seasonal allergies

- When Damian was a kid he demanded servants to eat his food with him. His mother and grandfather took this as him being a natural born monarch being perceptive enough to know about poisons, but really he just didn’t want the servants to feel left out and didn’t want to eat alone.

- At least one member of the justice league is colorblind; that many aliens doesn’t make for a consistent amount of cones (the color perception in the eye, humans have 3) and the watchtower ALWAYS has to accommodate for this in some way. Like hell they’d ever leave someone without their proper accommodations for what could be considered a disability.

- Hawkgirl is incredibly farsighted and her mask/helmet doubles as reading glasses

- When Diana went to a salon for the first time. Oh boy. She didn’t leave that massage table for 3 days.

- Everyone can always tell when Clark just got off a call or back from a visit with his parents because his accent comes back. He can never hear it himself and its driven him crazy trying to get rid of it.

- After an incident involving time travel and meeting another version of Bruce—a very old version—learning the fact that Bruce has a risk of heart problems makes his kids ease up on the pranks and death defying feats. At least while in front of him. He doesn’t though.

- Dick and Wally have a secret code that they made based on Rock Paper Scissors. It looks exactly like Rock Paper Scissors except they move a finger or change angles to indicate what they’re talking about and it took Wally 6 months to get correct

- Every year for the Flash Day in Central City the Rogues decorate things with antlers and red noses without fail. Every year on Flash Day Wallace Rudolph West considers the ramifications of changing his middle name.

- Black Canary always has access to tea somewhere in the room. Any room. One time she pulled tea bags out of one of Batman’s pockets and he was stoically bewildered as she calmly made earl grey during an interrogation

- The amount of times Constantine has had to be escorted from the premises of a case is absurd

- Tim’s footsteps constantly fluctuate between being super loud and extremely quiet. Since he was at home alone so much he was used to being able to be loud, but quickly learned to be quiet after he realized he could be heard while following Batman and Robin, and got even better at it when he became a superhero. Whenever he gets loud, he knows it’s time to take a nap.

- Steph is terrible at chess but the best scrabble player you’ve ever seen. Cass is always in awe, because she’s the exact opposite.

- Barbara can still do a backflip paralyzed from the waist down. Her arms are enormous and she always finds a way.

- Duke HATES the Night Shift, his powers are annoying and near inert when literally everything is bathed in darkness. (He also sleeps with the hallway lights turned on so he can see footsteps under the door before they’re there. All the bats do.)

- Since he was born in the phantom zone, Chris Kent has a lot of problems that taught Clark about being a good father. He and Bruce don’t have many serious disagreements after Chris. He understands now.

- Every single lantern goes absolutely apeshit over Lego bricks, they can’t get enough of it. One time the league went on a mission that involved the lantern corps and there was a giant battle of Lego builds in willpower green that they had to break up.

- Lois Lane is face blind. She does not let this stop her. Clark took an entire class on body language just to try and keep his privacy under wraps because she can read people like a book. Why else do you think she’s such an amazing investigative reporter and can’t spot Superman’s big lovable face a cubicle away?

[sjw-publishings]

His Manlier Tomorrow

Jayce Talis TF/MC

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Trying something new, a fictional character tf based on the manly man Jayce Talis from League of Legends and Arcane.

Slight spoilers but most of the names omitted except Jayce himself. Personality traits may be quite exaggerated and may be sort of different to the actual character in the movie/game.

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“They’re…not that hot.”

The American asian rolled his eyes at the newest poster of a proud superhero. With many other various forms of merchandise of ‘Main Characters’ at the rest of the booths.

Yeah, Jin was pretty much an anime nerd. Mousy raven hair growing to his shoulders, thick black framed spectacles framed over his thin eyes, and the slight case of college acne over on his cheeks.

Pudgy roundish figure, a far cry to the ideal frame of Mr Macho Man standing in front of him. Alongside his goofy grey patterned ‘blonde ninja’ t-shirt, beige shorts and sandals, he rarely cared about how he looked in public.

And for why he was in this section of the convention…

“Okay…they’re very hot…”

Taking one more glance at the powerful figure, posing chest-out and in that stereotypical way like the guy could just save the world and get that gorgeous woman at the same time.

At least that is how most media have portrayed them.

But of course besides the eye candy…he felt something, or someone drawing him over here. He doubted it was ‘special initiation’ or whatever strange super power a protagonist would get randomly, but its like some tug like he never had before.

*GLOW*

Hand reaching down the trash can, empty…aside from a lone glowing stone.

“Must be some kind of toy…?”

Of course, like all the ‘good guys’ in every story, Jin picked up the unsuspecting object that radiated magical energy. Gripping it with his fingers as he slowly, but dramatically, brings it up to eye level.

Observing the glowing, mesmerising jewel…dangerously coming into contact fearlessly without any regard for the risks. Such qualities exhibited from a man such as yourself…

(Indeed, you are a hero.)

“Huh?”

(And let’s just cut it the chase, shall we?)

—<RECALIBRATING SUBJECT!>—

As the stone radiated arcane energy, light engulfing our Hero within seconds. It seems like he is doomed to fate beyond his control!

But no, as whirlwinds guided around him, a strange sensation of power churning within him like never before. Harnessing such energies, blending in with them as they prepared for his transformation to come.

And come indeed…

“W…Whoa!”

Like any typical gasp and shock! We have our man trying to resist such wisdom and guidance. Such strength and energy…that was meant for him.

But we all know that’s futile.

After all, every Hero always meets their Heroic destiny, with subconscious Bravado and a dramatic masculine performance as they come into terms with their rightful place.

And to his rightful place, our hero is transported. Cutting this intermission short, so that he can enter that special world.

The world where he rightfully belongs.

————————————

<ASSIMILATING SUBJECT INTO REALITY…PROGRESSION>

————————————

“Where…where am I?”

Like many openings to a story, we have the main character looking all confused in a new environment. Eye lids gently being lifted up, body slowly shifting about as he made his way forward…and forward.

BUMP!

Before coming to a stop.

“Wha…what’s this?!”

Stopping at the podium, his eyes glanced at the great beyond of faces from as far as his eyes could see. Crowds and crowds from far and wide starring at him…

Frozen, the whole world waiting for their hero.

(Now presenting the man of tomorrow! Jayce Talis!)

An incredibly womanly voice echoed from within the silence. That…same voice from earlier! That person who called him a hero!

(Of course, as you are currently, that wouldn’t be correct now, would it?)

A young college student giving a speech in front of a crowd like that, with barely any ambitions other than drooling over big strong heroes, dependable men that always saves the day time and time again.

(Time for you to be exactly just that~)

YANK!

His left hand was pulled past the podium, displaying the gemstone openly to his adoring public, thumb and index finger gripping it proudly as though he earned that gemstone piece as his own.

(After all, you did find it. Therefore, it shall be your reward)

BZZT!

Glowing energy intensified, outlining his whole figure with that similar aquamarine hue. Heated sensations piling up from within, ensuring the process is as irresistible as possible for any man to resist.

“Nggh…I…have to move…Urk!”

(Can’t have my man of tomorrow running off~)

Concentrated at his feet, as they obeyed her. Bursting up double the length, snapping those sandals as they donned that heroic caucasian tan. The kind that stood firm in his beliefs for himself and whatever, whoever he cared for.

How…irresistible.

Jin blushed, barely being able to wiggle his new ‘supercharged’ toes as the torn up sandals stretched down past the soles, up his brad-ankles, tightening into a pair of stained dark brown engineering boots, with a cushion of long socks covering his masculine feet up to just below his-

(On your knees and thank me later~)

His whole body flushed, getting down on one knee, almost like he was proposing the jewel to that…voice. And for someone to be able to propose to a person of such a caliber…he oughta be-

Taller~

Kicking his figure off the ground, straightening his back. Cracks and pops echoing as it stretched beyond its initial width, satisfying RIPS! As it tore the fabric of his shirt, begging to be exposed to the world.

Height rising as his head reached beyond three-quarters of the podium, the anticipation of the crowd within his sights. Thighs splurging away his shame, kicking off as he was ready to make a proposal.

One of the century, and one for that gorgeous lady…how can he help himself? He was gay but…

(Get back up, my strong muscular man~)

“Mmph…”

The young hero gulped, sporting the stupidest lovestruck grin he ever did. Of course, every hero is far from unintelligent, but whenever it comes to the lady of their dreams…they just cannot help themselves but irresistibly do anything just to be with them.

Manlier, my love~

“Of course…my love~”

Jan couldn’t resist himself, those words spurting out of his embarrassed mouth. Pulling his weight as he stood proudly in front of the crowd. Inexperienced, but that did not matter if she was always by his side, walking beside him every step of the way.

He was…mostly gay, but No! He wasn’t into…women. Man oh man… women. Especially when it came to this woman, his mouth barely contained his drool, tastebuds salivating for that gorgeous craving of guidance from her. Every Superhero yearns for that…, especially from the one they love.

Powerful legs grounded his position, spread few inches apart. Buttocks tightening with dominant confidence, waist pushed beyond the confines of his shorts, and in mere seconds…those strands simply SNAPPED! The broken material simply falling onto the edges of his boots, shamefully unable to resist the growing superhero…

Tough oil-stained prints etched themselves over on his digits, Roughness coming from the hard work of progress decked his palms with experience and strength, surging up his wrists, down his veins as meat toned themselves wonderfully on such a man. Such a wonderful, MANLY man as he flexed his right bicep, a thick definite hill of muscle filling out both of his arms as his left still proudly ‘proposed’ the arcane crystal to his adoring public.

Always thinking about her, first and foremost~

A determined resolve, trailing down his chest, lining up mini-packets of air on his tummy…POUNDING AWAY PROGRESS! with his fist! Hammering a tight eight pack that always cooed his lady in their private chambers.

And her Soft…delicate fingers savouring the sensation of his hardened ‘dots’, coaxing them with Sly touches…bouncing them. Muscle Helium lifted his figure, prominently presenting his bulging pectorals, proud of the lengths he took to ensure he stayed as attractive as ever.

For himself…and for his Love.

(Dressed for the success of the century, my love~)

“Of…Course, anything for you my lady~”

He blushed, nervousness fading away in an instant. No! He can’t just turn into this…no…Heh! No reason to be afraid of her, and besides, she raised him to be a public figure after all. He ought to dress like one in order to look good in front of the men and ladies of the public, mostly to the ladies…but most importantly.

Handsome and stylish, for her~

With that, the remnants of the torn fabric on his bod clung on a bright threaded white, tightly pressing against his chest as eight round silver buttons held his new attire in its place.

Down below came the shorts rising up at full force, stretching all the way to large size of his new waist, tightly clinging onto their hero. Material bathing an expensive dark brown, before a large intricate belt CINCHED his pants shut, further accentuating his iron-clad rear, and the ever-so tented strain in his undergarments.

Of course…his lady knows how to circumvent that in a-bit, once this is all over.

Power coursing through him as new sleeves rolling down to his biceps. Dark brown leather materialising around his palms, inventor gloves wrapped his revolutionary mitts down to his forearm. Finalising his design strapped two large brown pads over his broad shoulders. Marked with a golden Piltover design, his brand new attire completed itself with silver stitches and a folded down collar.

A man of tomorrow never stops, not now, not ever. Taking a deep gulp, his vocal chords gawked at how far he’s gone in. Every admiration to himself he proudly received, modesty never being his strong suit, but that did not matter when everything else is cranked to near maximum.

“Man…am I stylish.”

Jay’s voice was deep husky, like a freshly brewed pot of coffee in the morning. Oozing masculinity, almost as though he could just put himself into trance just by whispering sweet nothings to himself.

But of course, with that kind of body, he oughta have a woman to enjoy it, in private. Another guy wasn’t really his thing, especially with how persuasive his lady is…

She really blended with him well, too well. Her breathing in that overwhelming sense of justice within him…its too strong! Why would he resist being everything Piltover wants him to be? That she wants him to be? The kind of leader that protects his people…and the man that always gets the woman of his dreams.

His sense of former self relinquishing its control, diminishing resistance being converted in manly bravado, a disregard of the fear of the unknown. And being such a great Superhero such as himself, he definitely should allow his former civilian self to say something back at her for all the things she has done for him!

Maybe a thank you gorgeous should suffice~…No! Let me say-will you be my one and only?…No! A F…F-!

“F-Fully charged!”

The Superhero couldn’t help himself but to smirk, gripping his tight package shamelessly in front of the frozen public. Their faces all beaming with anticipation over the fiery speech he was giving.

Giving…yeah? That was why someone as great as him was here in the first place. He was their leader, an iconic public figure, someone who the masses adored.

(Yes, let that confidence surge within you~)

Gorgeous hands gripping over his chin, shaping it, like marvellous sculptor. Trailing deep bristles over that melted fat, sharpening the edges with a little sturdy groove below his lips which she-

Kissed.

Bringing him to the topside, as he allowed to have her way. A hero always gets the gal doesn’t he? Especially with his manly rug of grey aftershave and chiselled jawline.

(I always did your his cleft…so bristly, so impeccable…so strong~)

And she did not stop it there, continuing the kiss. Cupping his cheeks, brushing it, vanishing all the blemishes from her hero. Course, he always looked good, naturally, it was how this man was built.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

(And neither would I~)

She pulled away from the kiss, a momentary restraint for the power duo. After all, the crowd still has their eyes on them, on me. Even when paused, they cannot resist but to want to know everything about him.

But he always knew to knew not to give the public the full info on his inventions…you know, give them an incentive to keep listening, to keep wanting.

“Like how you would tease me.”

His eyes kept on that gorgeous woman, still firmly tugging his needfully large throb beneath his well stitched pants. What can he say? It was beyond his ability and power to control himself, and his rod, especially when the woman of his dreams and ambitions came to him like that.

He was a man after all, and a hero like him had to be pleased by his lady.

Running her fingers through his hair, gently slicking it back the way he liked, the way she loved. Slightly lighting it to a caucasian dark brown, as the follicles from the back retracted back above his neck.

He was presentable, the way she groomed him, the way she liked. And now, it is time for him to make her proud.

(They are counting on you~)

With a low, persuasive whisper in his ear, she slid down his biceps, to his large hands. Accelerating the sensations like Hextech, eliminating any reservations he might ever have of being…some other guy?

Was he really someone else? Didn’t make sense, after all, he was and had always been both hot and intelligent, two in one.

Tugging roughly, the gemstone brimming the brightest light blue. Sealing his fate in the new reality, with invisible manicured hands interlocking with his own down below.

Nudging him to face forward to the crowd as they charged up his powerful hammer together.

(Ready for the climax?)

“I’m…mmmph…I’m..I’M-!”

The stone beamed its iconic glow. Yes…Of course, he was holding a piece of the arcane. Despite many hardships, he stuck to his plans, and now everyone was ready for the transformation of the century.

With him leading it.

“I’m Jayce Talis!”

The man spoke, and simply proclaimed. Gleaming citrine eyes portraying the determination of his lifetime, and the heroism the world had shaped him up to be. Why would there be any hesitation? He was their hero, and with a final TUG! He was-

“I’m always ready~”

———— <FIXED REALITY!> ————

Releasing his grip, the new Jayce blasted over and over, thick hammer slamming within the confines of his attire. Savouring every ounce of power that comes with being a hero.

Course, this was his reward for being in charge of the city countless times. Reshaping and saving it, even from itself. That’s the kind of man he was, and he was not gonna let anyone tell him otherwise.

That is how people liked him. That is why she loves him.

With all being said…he felt like he was frozen in time just now, almost if he lived a whole different lifetime or something. Ha ha ha…imagine. Why would he ever want to be anyone else but himself?

Throb!

Man…his hammer is already getting pretty thick. With how hot and handsome he is, its almost a crime not to think about himself spending raw, quality time with his lady…

But of course, that will have to wait until they are in their private chambers once again. He still has to finish his speech after all, and with how the public looks up to him.

This has to be revolutionary.

“And from this day onward, we’ll build a brighter tomorrow.”

[idealspawn]

i made a tinder and like... ppl way out of my league have matched w me and i literally feel like a catfish bc on these pics my skin wasnt as f horrible as it is now and im terrified to meet up w anyone from there solely due 2 my fucking stupid acne that has got so bad recently. bittersweet

[ahkaraii]

tov postgame drabblefic (3343 words)

“Raven?! Hey, Raven!”

Raven turns to smile at the little shrimp—who’s really more a jumbo shrimp now, with all the acne that comes with puberty—and waves. “Heya, Boss-man!"

Karol’s embrace draws a startled ‘oof!’ out of him, his blastia-heart creaking against his ribs. “You’re in town!” Karol exclaims. “And you didn’t say?!”

“I just got here, kiddo,” Raven says, patting Karol’s back—it used to be a pat on his head, but his head’s just about level with Raven’s now. “Damn, you’re getting tall!”

“You should’a said you were coming,” Karol grouses into his neck. “I’ve got a client I’m already late for across town.”

“Aww, that’s awright. I’ve got some time-sensitive stuff to get ta, too. We can join up after! Brave Vesperia’s still at the same place, yeah?”

“West corner across Saggitarius, yup!” Karol beams. “See you for dinner, then?”

“I’ll whip you up a Sashimi,” Raven promises.

“That’s a promise, pops!” Karol says, and dashes off. Raven scratches his messy hair and abruptly feels very self conscious about it. It’s just a casual nickname, old man, he don't mean naught by it. Relax.

After a fast-tracked meeting with Harry results in a tussle — poking gentle fun at the boy’s attempt at a beard earns him a “Your ass is grass, old man!!” and a surprisingly competent sword duel ensues — the young Master is turning into a proper Don, now — Raven subtly lets Harry disarm him and sprawls on the floor, dramatically defeated.

“Ohhh, these old bones!” Raven mimics being out of breath. “You’ve finally bested me, Master Harry. Do with my ass what you will.”

“Ugh! You’re so disgusting!” Harry is actually out of breath, so he still needs a bit more practice, but it’s leagues better than he was just a year ago. “A duel is an honourable exchange between men! Stop desecrating it with your jokes!”

“I don’t joke with my ass,” Raven says in his Serious Voice, enjoying Harry’s startled look before he dons his jester’s grin again. “Anywho, this old man’s got places to be, so! Toodles!”

“Wait! Raven! What the hell did you come here for!” Harry’s baritone is quite impressive when he gets proper angry. “Did you just come here to waste my time!”

“Never intentionally,” Raven promises. He’d dropped Flynn’s wax-sealed letter on Harry’s desk during their fight, and points to it as he nimbly leaps up to his usual open window. “There’s your homework, Master Harry! I’ll come by to collect it tomorrow at dawn, ‘kay?”

He leapfrogs out in time to hear Harry’s yelps of protest. “When did you put that there! God damnit, Raven!”

Raven’s grinning as he parkours his way away from Altosk’s headquarters and towards Brave Vesperia’s. If he sharply detours into Saggitarius tavern to catch up with the ladies (and the latest, juiciest gossip — who knew Heliord’s newest guild ambassador was trafficking drugs and possibly underage escorts? he did, now), then that’s just Raven being Raven, right? Karol’ll understand.

“I almost thought you wouldn’t come,” Karol says faux-lightly, when Raven finally makes it back a few minutes past midnight.

Aww, shit.

“Heeey, I promised, didn’t I? Business just stretched out a little.” Raven dithers at Karol’s knowing stare. “C’mon, you still up for a good ol’ Raven’s Special Sashimi?”

“Fish isn’t really fresh by midnight anymore,” Karol says drolly. “Unless you wanna go fishing at this hour?”

They’d only get sewer trash in Dahngrest’s polluted rivers, and the next best thing’s thirty minutes out, at the very least. “Ehhh—how bout a Beef Bowl?” Raven says. “Surely you got some cured meats in your pantry. C’mon!! I’ll teach you!”

“Aw, okay. I am pretty hungry.” Karol’s so easy to please, it’s both heartwarming and kind of sad. “I’ve tried making it before but I can never get mine to taste like yours did.”

“’S all in the seasoning, kiddo. Here, watch the master and learn!”

It’s well past two when they finally call it a night, bellies full and hearts warm; it’s solely because of this that Karol succeeds in wrestling a promise out of Raven that they’d talk more in the morning. See, Raven’s got orders to pick up Harry’s response to Flynn’s letter and hussle back to the Empire ASAP, but even he doesn’t have to heart to deny Karol this simple thing.

Ever since Brave Vesperia saved the world by ruining it, everyone’s been struggling to adapt to life without blastia and Raven’s somehow found himself smack in the middle between the two remaining powers: the Empire and the Guild Union. Former member of both and trusted by all due to his role in stopping the Adephagos, Raven’s got the privilege of being messenger boy between the leaders in lieu of formal meetings, due to the fact that a lack of blastia has made travel…immensely more time consuming.

He’s worn down all the possible routes between Dahngrest and Zaphias for over a decade; the presence or absence of blastia has not really affected Raven’s efficiency and timeliness, which, naturally, has made him an attractive player for both sides. It just sucks that this means he’s always on the go, never really spending much time in one place or another. The first six months couldn’t be helped, it was imperative that everyone get their shit together and master the essentials necessary in order to provide basic living to their respective citizens: barrier blastia had to be replaced with rotating squads of knights and guildsfolk trained to fight; food previously preserved by blastia now had to be kept refrigerated with imported Zophier ice, dominated by the Empire, which had to be kept from melting with salt from Weasand mines, dominated by Guilds; everyone had to coordinate and organise to secure trade routes and avoid conflict, etc, etc.

The next six months after that were peace talks and negotiations between what was quickly becoming independent kingdoms in separate countries. Sea travel had slowed the fuck down overnight, because blastia-fueled engines had become obsolete and everyone now had to rely on wind power, so every passing day each country was slowly but surely becoming more and more isolated from each other, and therefore gradually but surely more hostile.

Emperor Ioder ruled over the continent of Ilyccia with his aristocracy of nobles and meritocracy of knights, struggling to keep the Empire’s global standing while lacking the technology to enforce it; Tolbyccia was pretty much owned by Altosk, ostensibly headed by Harry, who was presently overrun with infighting due to the fact that the Union was composed of many, many guilds all clamouring for leadership, if not democracy; East Desier was dominated by the strong-spirited Palestralle guild and its current leader, Natz, whose militant-minded navy had quickly expanded toward West Hyponia now that the Union’s presence was months away by treacherous sea; East Hyponia was an oddly peaceful blend of both Guild and Empire, unique in its joint origin and therefore vocally neutral, though that was quickly becoming contested, and, hence, required Raven-the-Pageboy’s timely arrival to avoid it becoming a full out war. Ugh.

The Schwann part of him that still lived felt heavy resignation at the inevitability of violence—the first one to fall would be Raven, he knew, as no messenger could truly remain neutral in a tug of war between such powerful masters—but the more upbeat part of him was like, stop sweating the small stuff and just go with the flow. Shit always resolves itself one way or another, right?

Right?

“You leaving already?” Karol mumbles into his pillow when Raven rises at dawn; kid’s no longer the type to sleep deeply, it seems.

“Just visiting the young Master to collect his response letter for Flynn,” Raven promises quietly. “Go back to sleep, Karol. I’ll be back to make you breakfast before I’m gone.”

Karol eyes him tiredly but he manages a wan smile. “Okay, pops. I trust you.”

Raven feels goosebumps up his arm. Stupid blastia heart runs too damn cold. He heads out at a jog to warm himself up, since Dahngrest runs both chilly and damp at this hour.

Raven no longer sneaks into Altosk’s headquarters like he did when the Don was alive and Harry was a boy; for one, Don is no longer alive to vouch for his slipperiness and for another, Raven represents the Empire here as much as he represents the Guilds in Zaphias, and no one tolerates his antics as they did before, not with the threat of conflict so close to the horizon. He walks in through the front door and waves at all the folks waiting in line—Pecan, Cactus, Lima and good ol’ Walt; all familiar faces turning sour, as usual—and knocks politely on Harry’s door.

“Master Harry,” he sing-songs. “It is I, Raven the Great, come ‘round at last!”

“It’s been barely ten fucking hours,” Harry’s pissed off voice rings loud and clear through the door.

“Shall I come back at noon, then?” Raven asks diplomatically.

An explosive sigh. “No,” Harry mutters. “Get in here. And call Cactus in, too, would you?”

“You heard the Young Master,” Raven says, nodding at the aptly-named mercenary, with his spiked up armour and sharpened teeth.

“You don’t order us around anymore, traitor,” the prickly fellow spits and shoves past him, to whom Raven mockingly bows to as he passes.

Saviour of the world or not, it's no secret now Raven was a triple agent. The official story Harry graciously gave him is that the Don always knew about Raven’s split loyalty (which is true, probably) and trusted him anyway (which is true, too), so Harry and Altosk will continue to trust him as well (which is flattering, but increasingly doubtful). Harry's a good kid shoved into a position of leadership he's not very well suited for, but even Raven can't deny he's trying and doing better every day.

“Cutlass Cactus, I want you to deliver this to Sirena of Siren’s Fang as soon as possible,” Harry says shortly, handing the man a wax-sealed letter. “Wait for a response, but I await it at most a fortnight.”

“Understood, young Master,” Cactus says, thumping his chest at the honour. He takes the letter, glares at Raven, and makes his way out.

“As for you,” Harry says, “I have a question to ask you before I hand this reply over. A serious one.”

Raven feels his age and more. “Yeah?”

“Ioder is a good man. His dog Flynn is, too. I know this personally.”

There is no question here yet, and there are a fair amount of insults between the compliments, but Raven knows the heart of Harry, and he means well.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “They are.”

“But,” Harry continues, coldly. “Two kind heads on a hydra do not make it any less a monster.”

Raven hides a grimace by scratching at his sideburns. “The same can be said of the Guilds,” he says lightly. “Or of any organization grown large enough.”

“Stop twisting my metaphors,” Harry says shortly. “The question I wanted to ask is: what do you think the Empire's end goal is?”

And what is the Guild’s end goal, Schwann wants to counter, when the Guilds’ very existence rose out of violent rejection of the Empire? Raven, for his part, takes a deep breath and exhales it out as a thoughtful hum.

“I think the Empire was built to protect and manage blastia,” Raven muses. “And I think the Guilds were built to reject the Empire’ monopoly of them. But, well, there ain’t no blastia left, so… the Empire wants to micromanage what remains. And the Guilds do, too. Yeah?”

“So there can be no peace?” Harry concludes, tiredly.

“Harry,” Raven says, firmly. “Your grandfather, the Don, united the Guilds back when they were just a bunch of rowdy, armed assholes. Y’know how he did it?”

“By fighting the Empire?” Harry says dully.

“By uniting against a common enemy,” Raven insists. “By uniting against a common threat. The Empire is no longer the enemy—hell, think of the Empire as yet another guild. It’s just a group of rowdy, armed assholes. But you and they got a common enemy now, too.”

Harry looks at him sharply. “The Adephagos is no more,” he says, carefully, “right?”

“Not the Adephagos,” Raven says. “The lack of blastia. The lack of technology. The lack of creature comforts all of us got real used to. That’s our enemy now; the thing we all gotta pitch in together to fix.” Raven bows low to Harry, as low as he would to the Don. “I beg you, young Master: do not war with the Empire. Not now. See them as a business partner, instead.”

“Business, huh,” Harry says heavily, and then flicks his sealed letter in Raven’s direction, who catches it just before it smacks him in the face. “All right. Tell your Master we can’t afford a war, anyway.”

Something uncoils in Raven's chest. “You are my only Master, Harry,” he says, cheekily. Just like Flynn is his only Commandant, now.

“Ugh, the way you say it, you make it sound so gross,” Harry complains. “Get the fuck out of my room, old man. And call in Lima!”

Raven sends him a lazy salute and hops his way out, placing the important letter in his robe’s inner breast pocket. His heart blastia emits a small barrier shield of its own, using his life-force; this letter will remain pristine come rain, sleet, or snow, as long as he still lives.

“You’re up, Lima bean,” Raven chirps.

“You call me that again and I’ll break more than just your nuts,” Lima snarls, spits in his direction, and stomps off.

“And we used to have such fun together,” Raven laments. “What happened to us, O expert in nuts, Pecan, my man?”

“Careful, Raven,” the aforementioned Pecan murmurs. “Your jests are no longer in good taste.”

“Your fruit cocktail, on the other hand,” Raven says. “Mmhmm. Top notch, as always.”

Pecan gives him a wry smile. “I saw you buttering up Madam Teal and her girls, last night. They talk about Heliord?”

“Oh, you know me: promise me a free night of drinks and I’ll spill my guts,” Raven winks suggestively.

“Hmm…your costs run too high these days,” Pecan declines politely. “You’ll drink me out of business.”

Raven feels a mild pang of loss; he and the third-waiter-from-the-right Pecan used to be pretty tight. Schwann thinks it’s just how things go. Suck it up, buttercup.

“Next time I’m in town I’ll do you one free, fer old times’ sake,” Raven compromises. “Lemme know what info you want and I’ll get it for ya fer a Mabo Curry and a Don’s Special. Within reason, ‘course.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Black Bird,” Pecan murmurs. “But I’ll be waiting for you.”

Raven walks home with a heavy heart and on lighter feet. He makes a quick detour to the fish market, already bustling with a freshly caught haul; he haggles reliable ol' Fin for a kilogram of merflesh and charms Romelle out of a bottle of soy sauce and pays full price for a sack of white rice before finally making it back to Brave Vesperia’s HQ, just in time to catch Karol in the kitchen about to make morning coffee.

“Raven!” Karol’s smile is brilliant, and very welcome. “You’re back!”

“I promised you my world famous sashimi, didn’t I?” Raven says. “Can't have you saying this old man’s a liar!"

“I’d never,” Karol says honestly, and that, more than anything, is what makes Raven want to noogie Karol and maybe cry into his hair or something likewise unmanful. He settles for making that kid the most delicious dish of fish a Weekend Chef is capable of, and if he finds himself also making Karol his special Pork Stew to eat later, he tells himself it’s ‘cause the boy’s a growing man and not because Raven’s a sap at heart.

“So where ya off to now, Raven?” Karol asks, after they’re done eating and making the kitchen less of a mess. “If, um, you can tell me, that is.”

“Atherum,” Raven says honestly. “Flynn said his girl Sodia’d be there to collect whatever response Harry might have on the new moon, so, there I'll be.”

“The new moon?” Karol stares at him. “But that’s in no time at all!”

Raven gives him a wan smile. “Don’tcha worry, kiddo. I always get ta where I need to in time.”

“We should call Ba’ul,” Karol insists. “You’ll never make it otherwise!”

Raven doesn’t have the heart to tell Karol that it probably doesn’t matter how fast or slow his response arrives; in the end, it’s Harry actions from now on that will be his real response, regardless of what his letter says.

“Judith darlin’ probably has better things to do than be an old man’s cab,” Raven says lightly. “I’ll jes' hop on a merchant ship headed toward Atherum tonight; should make it just in time, if the weather stays fair. This time o’ year, the northern wind’s in our favour.”

“But what if merfish ambush you!” Karol protests. “Or if a storm’s brewing—“

“Tempest!” Raven sing-songs, flicking his hand. “Aw, man, I miss being able ta call up storms willy-nilly. That made me feel God-like, it did.”

Karol frowns at the interruption, but then his face turns thoughtful. “Can’t you still, though? Your blastia’s powered by your life-force, right? So your arts should still be working just fine.”

“Shavin’ a year or two off my life fer a light show is a bit too vapid, even by my standards,” Raven says sardonically. “Plus, I ain’t keen on folks realising blastia’s still useable if you use a human fer a battery.”

He can very easily see it happening in the future: folks trafficking humans for energy. Or, fuck, claiming prisoners of war for it—hell of a good reason to go to war, really, if it’s to dehumanize the ingredients you need to fuel your creature comforts. You justify your atrocities by framing it as necessary or even righteous; Alexei and Schwann used to do that all the time, no brainer. Honestly, this fear is one of the many reasons he’s made Rita promise not to share that part of Hermes’ research, despite the fact that human-powered blastia could solve a lot of the world’s present problems. Schwann’s too jaded to avoid thinking of all the ways it can go terribly wrong, and Raven’s too fucking tired of the parasite that is his heart to think of its more beneficial applications.

“People’ll find out eventually,” Karol insists, at once innocent and wise beyond his years. “Desperation breeds creativity, right? You should tell people about it so they know the risks involved, before someone invents it and says it’s a cure-all or something.”

“Ehhhhh,” Raven drawls. “I’ll think about it.”

He most definitely will not.

Karol drops it, thankfully, but then picks up the old tangent of, “I still say I should call Ba’ul for you. I’ve got the whistle and I was thinking of asking Judy to fly me over to Yumanju, anyway, since my next job’s over there. We could drop you off real quick, no worries.”

“The spa?” Raven perks up. The idea of running off to relax there after all this nonstop political bullshit is extremely appealing. “Really?”

“Really really,” Karol says, smiling knowingly. “So, you wanna come with?”

“Boy, do I,” Raven says excitedly. “Okay, kiddo, you’ve convinced this old man to defect to Brave Vesperia once again.”

“You never left, pops,” Karol says without hesitation, which warms the cockles of ol' Raven's heart. “C’mon, then, let’s head to the usual clearing. Ba’ul’ll show up within fifteen minutes after I call for him.”

“Wait wait wait! We should get Judy a gift first,” Raven insists. “The lady’s coming all the way over here for our sorry hides, we gotta say thanks proper-like!”

Karol blinks. “That’s a good idea! What d’you think she’d like?”

“I know just the thing,” Raven winks. “C’mon, kiddo, we got places to be!”

[angelisverba]

so precious, if only you knew

in which y/n thinks her brother’s best friend sees her as a little sister, and Jason, her brother’s best friend, thinks she’s too cute for her own good.

word count: 9k give or take some :D

pairing: y/n, and her brothers best friend, Jason (from the snl skit)

notes: inspired by project x. that’s all.

When Jason and his friends were in their freshman year of high school, they made a pact.

To have a party.

A party so big, everyone got laid. A party so big, celebrities came. A party so big, the police feared it.

One where they would loose their virginity. Get drunk so they couldn’t remember how they lost it (although, now it’s too late ‘cause none of them are virgins). And maybe, just maybe, participate in the illegal consumption of illegal substances such as drugs and or alcohol.

At the time of their promise, it was unknown if this party would be any sort of celebration, or just for the hell of it. The four, gangly, skinny, face-full-of-acne, boys had been so fueled by the simple idea that they just had to make their party so legendary future alumni could only imagine imitating an ordeal as great as the one they created. As time passed, they argued over who’s birthday, or what holiday would be the cause of, as it had come to be named, G.C.B.B. Get Crunk and Bone Babes. Pronounced gee-sea-babe, because somehow the two b’s had morphed into ‘babe’. GCBabe, in the end, was endowed to Jason when he made a bet that he would score the winning touchdown and win the league for his high school during his junior year. Andrew and Kent, slightly peeved but more relieved that they had a reason to celebrate (they’d settled on Jason’s birthday), and had shifted their focus to the hows, when, wheres, and whats of the situation.

This was the only thing they ever talked about the closer it got to the date, Feburary 1st, and everything they did revolved around spreading the word, obtaining booze, weed, and whatever else they planned on having. Andrew, who’s uncle so conveniently ran a radio station, not only announced a message himself on said radio station, but also convinced his uncle’s dj coworkers to email any celebrities they knew.

Kent, more on the brainy side of things, was working on the booze and drugs. He snuck into the school and used that machine they had to make student id’s and created a fake state id for himself. He would buy booze in a store where workers didn’t know him. Maybe drive 30 minutes to the next town for beer and the lot. His cousin had told him not to worry about weed and the sorts, as long as he received payment.

Jason, ever the spoiled brat, would pay for everything. Even if it was his birthday.

No, no, because it was his birthday.

The thing is, his parents were going out of town to celebrate their anniversary, which just so happened to fall on Jason’s birthday (what a wonderful gift to Jason’s dad), and had given him a generous sum of money to make up for the fact that they wouldn’t be there to celebrate his 18th birthday party. So, he had the house, the money, and the birthday to celebrate.

“YOU’VE HEARD IT ONCE BEFORE, AND YOU’LL HEAR IT AGAIN TILL THE END OF THIS SCHOOL’S TIME,” yelled Andrew, who stood on the back of a golf cart, megaphone in hand while Jason and Kent drove him up and down the lunch tables, “PARTY AT FUCKING JASON’S HOUSE, THIS SATURDAY. MISS IT, AND YOU’LL DIE.”

“Andrew!”

The cart came to a stop in front of a very disgruntled-looking y/n, Andrew’s sister. She stood comically, with her hands bunched up into tiny fists at her hips, lips in a frown at her brothers actions. “Are you trying to cause a riot? Miss it or die,” she mocked, pulling a funny face and cocking her hip to the side as she does so, “Yeah, think I’d rather die, thanks. Now shut up and put that cart back before they take away your senior privileges.”

Kent laughs, and Jason, leaning with his forearms crossed on top of the steering wheel, snickered into his wrists.

“Well, I’ve got news for you sissy,” said Andrew, his tongue poking out at her playfully, “Coach Barnwell let us borrow his cart, and all the snitch staff is in a meeting, so I’m not gonna get into trouble,” He makes and L with his forefinger and thumb, pressing it on his forehead, “Loser. Now, scram. Go study for chem or... something.”

Y/n laughed at her brother, knowing that he was only joking with her, and flipped him off. She walked away with, as Andrew said, her chem book tucked underneath her arm, and shut herself in a little nook at the library for the remainder of the lunch period. Away from the ‘get crunk and bone babes’ nonsense, god knows she heard enough of it at home. Jason this, and GCBabe that. Sheesh, it was terrible. All she ever wanted to do was study and do her homework in peace... and maybe steal a few glances and Jason here and there.

But we don’t have to talk about that. What y/n really needed to do, was study for the chem test she had on Friday. Tomorrow. She was the best in her class, always raising her hand to answer a question, but for whatever reason, she just couldn’t get the hand of stoichiometry if she didn’t have a sample problem in front of her. She didn’t want to have to, but grades mattered, so all day she had been thinking of way to cheat. How to write what she needed. Which letters to shorten. Where to hide the slip of paper.

She’d done it before.

Cheat on a test, that is. The pressure there was to ensure good grades, well it was an insurmountable force. Her entire life, her parents told her academic success led to success in life, and you don’t want to end up homeless under the bridge do you, y/n?

She didn’t. It was her biggest fear. Studying hard for a nice home and car, and enough money to support herself and her kids was a constant thought in the back of her mind.

It’s because of this that the tip of her nose was always stuck in a book, her fingers always wrapped around a pencil that transcribed notes in her neat writing. It was all she knew.

Because it was all she knew. It was no surprise to her parents when she pulled all-nighters to study for tests. Or when she declined offers to eat dinner out because ‘mom, I have a test to study for’ or ‘dad, i really need to finish this essay’. That night, was no different. Y/n stayed up to study, her thumb pink because of all the pages she was flipping through. Her wrist her from forcing her writing to be as small as it could, so she could fit all she could on an index card she cut in half. 

In the morning, Andrew cheered a loud, “WHOOP! WHOOP! MY SISTER ISN’T SUCH A GOODY TWO SHOES AFTER ALL!” when he saw her place the card up her shirtsleeve after she put her seat belt on. Y/n, had she had the energy, would’ve pushed his shoulder, but instead chose to take a nap during the measly 15 minutes it took to get to school. Her head jostled against the headrest with the cars movements, and she almost cried because she couldn’t doze off. Somewhere along the way, she felt fingers against the side of her face, cradling her head. She jumped, startled, but she heard Andrew say,

“Relax, its Jason. Picked him up cause he needed a ride to school.” and she was out like a light.

Andrew got out of the car once he parked, and Jason circled around the passenger seat so he leaned over the console, with his palm still on the other side of her face. He rubbed up and down her forearm to wake her, murmuring, “We’re here, y/n. S’time to wake up.”

Y/n woke up disoriented, starting with a deep breath and her eyes blinking open slowly, looking around and landing on Jason, who was smiling at her tenderly. She smiles back at him, tilting her head to the side as she does so. She hopes he can’t hear how fast her heart is beating.

“Good morning,” she said to him. The warning bell rings not long after that, and she turns away from him to reach for her backpack. Jason grabs his own backpack, too, swinging it over his should and stepping out of Andrew’s car. Andrew stands at the front of the car, texting someone on his phone while he waits for Jason and his little sister to step out.

“C’mon guys. Big day today!” yelled Andrew. It seemed as if he was always yelling. His voice, ebullient and clear, held an electrifying energy today, amplifying itself to the max. He whooped and hollered, locking his car carelessly and comically skipping away, but not before turning back and blowing a kiss in Jason’s general direction, yelling, “This is for you, big boy!”

Y/n snickered at her brother, and at Jason’s shocked face. “That was for you, big boy,” she repeated after he brother.

“You forgot the kiss,” he said, pouting and pointing his chin down at the floor. Her heart doubled over in her chest, and she struggled to contain her swoon.The little 13 year old in her, having been the first time she ever felt anything for Jason, squealed like a banshee, and the rational 17 year old in her, shushed her by taping her mouth closed. Having seen Jason’s blonde, skinny, cheerleader girlfriends, she knew it would never happen. Jason was only nice to her because she was his best friend’s little sister.

That was all she’d ever be.

“Oh I have no doubt you’ll get plenty of those tomorrow,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. When she noticed the groups of students getting smaller and smaller, she started walking away, eager to get to class and not be late. She’s only taken three steps when Jason calls out her name.

“I know you’ll do great on your test today,” and he has the goofiest smile on his stupidly handsome name and y/n just wants to go over there and slap him for making her heart to pirouettes.

“Thank you,” she said, and turned to walk to her class.

Jason felt as if he was in one of those indie movies. But, the ones from the 80′s. Ironically, he’s leaned up against the car, one foot propped up, hand clenching the singular strap he wore on his left shoulder. Entranced, he stared after y/n as she walked away, brows dipped over his eyes and his leg bouncing jitterishly.

When he was 16, a sophomore, and she a freshman, he’d stumbled upon her on a rainy spring day. He’d been on his way home from his (now ex) girlfriend’s house, and she was huddled underneath a large birch tree, the canopy thick enough so she wasn’t getting wet, but the winds strong enough that she was chilled to the bone. Her knees were banged up, and her ankle was twisted. Jason remembers asking her what happened, and she said nothing, instead jumping into his arms when he knelt down beneath her. He remember hissing because she was so cold, her clothes soaked through. She’d whispered to him a weak don’t tell my parents, please take me to your house, and he did. He took her to his house, carrying her because the poor thing had to hop on one foot. This was around the time he was bulking for wrestling, so he didn’t have a hard time lifting her and carrying her the rest of the way.

She fell asleep on his bed wearing a pair of his sweatpants and his hoodie after she took a warm shower. They never talked about. Not even once. But Jason swears that every once in a while, the skin of his neck still burns where she pressed a kiss to it after he got in bed next to her because she was ‘still cold’.

Since then, Jason harbored feelings for her. His yearning of her dainty hands to press against his chest while she cuddled into him was squashed every time he heard Andrew yell at another guy in the locker room for sexualizing his sister.

It was a dangerous game he played. Sneaking looks at her in car rides to and from school. Wanting to kiss her like he did then. And when she wore plaid school girl skirts, he wanted to press her up against the wall and hold her by the throat while his tongue snaked into her mouth. All while he sat next to Andrew.

He knew that one day, he’d say fuck it all and do it. He wasn’t an idiot. His back burned when she stared a him from her kitchen isle while he played video games with Kent and Andrew in the living room of her house. He knew every little thing she tried to pass as discreet, because he did the same thing too.

One day, and one day soon, he’d say fuck. it. all.

.

.

.

Y/n was very nervous.

Well, she always get nervous when she’s getting ready to take a test but, today was different. She was on edge, leg bouncing and head pounding. She was stressed. Her english teacher had assigned a paper that was due at midnight, and her math teacher had given her a surprise quiz she knows she failed. And this test was her chance to bring her B+ to an A-. Not to mention, if she got caught, she’d be sent up to the office with a referral.

“You have until the end of class to complete this exam. If you fail to complete before the class period, you will be granted five minutes after the bell. You may begin,” the teacher, Mrs. Prowe, sat down after the little announcement, and turned her full attention to an adult coloring book she had set up on her desk.

Y/n stared at the first question for a solid 2 minutes before any of the information actually sunk in. To which does He belong? a. metals b. metalloids c. non-met....

The first few questions are always easy. Review from past chapters, all of which y/n understood. The first page, front and back, were a breeze. She bubbled in circled on her answer sheet without hesitation. The back side, however, was a different story.

Her palms began to sweat at the sight of brackets and subscripts on letters. Her pencil started slipping. Y/n’s heart started to race, the edges of her eyes blurring. Don’t cry, don’t cry. Fuck. The note card. She took it out with no second thoughts. Within seconds, she had finished the first problem. It was almost exactly like the example exercise she had copied down, only the letters had been changed; different elements. Halfway through the period, the teacher announced how much time was left, and y/n was nearly done.

On the last page, however, was one problem she knew she wouldn’t get. It was one of what the teacher called ‘irregulars’, because you needed to follow certain rules that pertained to the elements or whatever the heck it was. She stared at the paper with her eyebrows raised, and all the dreadful feelings she had felt before tumbled back. Her pencil began to slip, her eyes began to blur. Shit, shit.

The bell rang. She didn’t want to doddle any longer, cut she needed to answer this last problem, and she didn’t fucking know how. Her leg was near violently shaking, the table quivering with her movements. Her breathing grew tight, and she figured, she could lose one point. Knowing Mrs. Prowe it wouldn’t matter because that last one is most likely worth half the test. Y/n felt herself go rigid, body nearly frozen as she walked against student traffic to place her test on the teachers desk.

She was the last to exit the classroom. She did so with her head hung low, her feet dragging slowly on the tiles. Lips trembling, fighting to hold back tears.

That was how she bumped into Jason. Shoulders drooping and eyes shining wet. She bumped into his chest so hard, she would’ve fallen back if he didn’t catch her.

“Y/n?” He asked after he stumbled back a bit. He’d seen her coming, and he was looking at her, ready to smile when she looked up, but she hadn’t. “What’s wrong?” He followed her gaze to try and make eye contact with her, but she shifted her eyes to the floor, and let the tears slip.

“Y/n? Y/n? Hey, look at me,” Jason’s voice was desperate and panicked because he wasn’t really sure what was wrong. Y/n started to curl in on herself, her hands coming to clutch opposite shoulders. When she didn’t look up at him, Jason gingerly lifted her chin up with his curled forefinger. “What is it?”

“It’s too much. I-I,” was all she managed to whisper before she started crying, she body swaying with sobs. Y/n knew, she knew she was crossing the same lines she had that rainy spring day, but she needed to feel her arms around him. She needed to feel secure.

So,

she took one step forward, and wrapped her arms around his neck awkwardly, Not a full millisecond passed, when she felt his arms encompass her, a secure bind around her waist. His chin propped on her head, on his hands rubbing up and down her back, and she had her face tucked into his neck.

“S’okay, y/n. You’re okay,” He cooed into her ear, making ssh-ssh noises every now and then.

Slowly but surely, y/n felt herself come down from the self-destructive place she put herself in; the knot in her throat untangled. She began to retract her arms from Jason’s neck, when his arms tightened around her. She stilled, unsure of what to do.

For a second, Jason had forgotten his situation. Why he couldn’t get close to her. He was so close to saying fuck-it-all. He wasn’t sure what held him back. Maybe it was her teary eyes. Or the fact that a teacher had come out of their classroom. But, he cleared his throat and pulled away from her, stuffing his hands in his letterman jacket to avoid reaching out to wipe the tears from her cheeks.

“Sorry about that,” she said, sniffing and attempting to laugh to brush off the back that she had a mini-breakdown in his arms. “I-”

“It’s okay, y/n. Don’t apologize. I just want to to know what had you so upset,” Jason said, his words coming out slowly to make sure that she truly understood how much he meant them.

“It’s just,” she sighed, “school. It’s a lot.”

He scoffed, “I bet. You do so much. More than you give yourself credit for, I think. Deserve a break.”

“This weekend; s’gonna be my break. Yours too, no? Are you excited?” She confessed, turning the other way and beginning to walk. She was sure that Andrew was waiting for them at the car. Jason walked alongside her, as soon as she started moving.

“Yeah. It’s been all me, Kent, and Andrew have wanted since freshman year.” Jason stops talking for a minute, and scrunches one side of his face.

“But?” Y/n prods. Looking at him out of the corner of her eye. He scratched the back of his neck, and his jacket inflates where his bicep flexes. Jason notices her looking, and smiles at her while giving her a side-eye look. Blushing, she turns her face straight forwards, like that didn’t just happen.

“But, some of the novelty has worn off if I’m being honest.” When she hums, almost knowingly, he adds quickly, “Don’t tell Andrew or Kent I said that.”

She giggled, and murmured, “You’ve kept my secrets, I’ll keep yours.”

Jason, surprised at her subtle acknowledgement of what happened nearly 2 years ago, turns to look at her, shocked. He wants to say something. Anything to get her to say more, but he sees Andrew and shuts his gaping mouth.

“There you are- hey, y/n, are you okay?” Andrew’s chesire cat grin drops from his face when he sees that his little sister’s face is splotchy and swollen red from past tears- a look he recognizes all to well from the times she’d come into his room in the middle of the night asking to be held.

“I’m good,” she smiled at her brother, a sad smile that revealed she wasn’t okay, but didn’t wanna talk about it. “Let’s go home.”

Their ride was full of quick gibber and banter over tomorrow. How thing would go down, who they hoped to see and, in Andrew’s words, fuck. What music they would play, etc. etc. Y/n laughed at their enthusiasm under her breath. As much as she loved her brother, he could be such an idiot sometimes

They dropped Jason off at his house, which was being prepped by Kent by the looks of it. His car- a red corolla- was parked in Jason’s strip of a driveway. Andrew promised he’d be joining them later that night, and pulled out. 

He pulled the windows up, and turned the music off. Then, he said,

“Y/n, what happened?” Andrew, as much as he was a fuckboy an party animal, cared about his sister if he cared about anything at all. Maybe a little too much.

Pushing air past her lips, “I’m fine now, Andy. I promise. That stupid chem test really had me going, that’s all.”

“Are you sure, y/n? No one was bothering you?” Andrew looked at her quickly, hesitantly turning away from her to look at the road.

“Andy, I’m okay.” She reassured her brother.

Jason wasn’t a bother.

.

.

.

Saturday morning, y/n woke up to an eerily quiet house.

A difference to the pasts months. She’d gotten used to Andrew yelling ‘GET CRUNK BONE BABES!” all over the house. Hell, their parents knew of the entire party ordeal, and were quite skeptical about it. Knowing their son, they didn’t try to stop him, they just told him time and time again to ‘be safe, Andrew.’ So many nights he had come home excited and drunk, and shown them videos on his phone of what had occurred at whoever’s house he’d been at before

Their dad, in fact, had watched the videos with amazement, and never bashed on anything other than the fact that he shouldn’t be drinking when he wasn’t the appropriate age for it yet.  Y/n and Andrew were lucky to have such laid-back and relaxed parents that focused much more on safety and well-being rather than the semantics of it.

As y/n crept down the stairs in her silky pj’s (a christmas gift from her 26-year old aunt who liked to shop at Victoria’s Secret), the murmurs of her parents in the kitchen became louder and louder.

“Heard it on the radio, for godsakes,” said her mother, laughing as she stirred whatever liquid she had in her mug.

“I wonder if Jason’s parents know, about the whole thing,” said her dad, his back was to her, facing his wife.

“They must, I mean, it’s the only thing these boy’s have wanted since they started high school, Jason proba- oh hey, y/n!” Her mom smiled wide when she saw her step off the last stair.  At the mention of his daughter’s name, her dad turns around, and y/n can see that he has a mug in his hand too.

“Good morning,” y/n croaked, her voice froggy early in the morning.

“Big day today, no?” Her dad teased.

“I guess so,” she murmured, taking a seat on the kitchen counter and drumming her knuckles on it. Her mother makes her a small plate of what was left over from their breakfast, eggs, bacon, and a slice of toast with jelly. Picking up the slice of toast, she takes a small bite out of it and pulls out her phone from her back pocket, and starts scrolling through her social medias. It consists of people’s dogs, food, photos of Brad Pitt, and....

Her brother had posted a snap from the night before. A short video, not even 3 seconds long. Jason heading into one of the rooms in his large house, with a girl trailing behind him. She wore shorts that barely covered the swell of her butt, and a bikini top. It was captioned crudely: pre-birthday head for the birthday boy.

“Y/n?”  Her dad, or maybe her mom, she didn’t know. Her stomach started twisting, a sour taste settled in the back of her mouth. A weird underwater filter covered her ears, making it seem as if her head was underneath the water, and her parents were speaking to her from above the surface.

Forcing a smile onto her face, she hummed a response, not taking her eyes off her phone screen. It was weird, the feeling that overcame her when she spotted Jason with another girl. Every time, the same thing. Nausea on her tongue, a heat covering the back of her neck and ears, and a dreadful feeling settleling in the pit of her stomach.

“So, you’re going tonight then?” One of her parents asked.

Taking a few seconds to think, taking into consideration what she could be doing instead of watching Jason....”No, I don’t think so.” Her voice is sure, and strong, loaded with finality. 

A load clink of ceramic against marble echoes in the kitchen. She looks up from her phone then, placing it on the counter face down. Her mother was staring at her with her lips pressed together in a hard line. “And why not?”

“Because a party isn’t my scene, mom.” Y/n responds tentatively, alarmed at her mothers hard and inquisitive tone. Her dad stood quietly watching the interaction, stepping to the side to that there was nothing on between y/n’s line of vision.

“And how would you know that if you’ve never been to the one. You’re brother loves them! And I think that you need this break. Andrew told me what happened yesterday. You need to let loose, y/n.” Her mother argued, her words going from agitated to coaxing. “Go to this party.”

“No.” y/n said, looking at her mother straight inn the eyes. She didn’t want to go. She wanted to spend a calm night at home,, all cozy in her blankets with a book, and not having to look at Jason with a pain in her chest.

“Fine,” said her mother, taking her phone out of her pocket.

“Thank you,” responded y/n, relieved. Her dad nodded, and opened his mouth to speak, when her mom said,

“If you don’t go, Andrew can’t either.”

Both y/n and her dad gasp. Her mom was lifting her phone up to her ear, the dial tone ringing in the room.

“N-no, you can’t do that! Andrew’s gonna be so upse-”

“Hello? Andrew? I’m doing good sweetie, uh, listen. Your sister doesn’t want to go to the party, so you can’t go either. However, if YOU MANAGE TO CONVINCE THEN YOU CAN GO,” Y/n’s mom’s voice raises to cover her brother’s protests, “THAT’S FINAL. GOODBYE.”  Yn’s mom hangs up the phone and places it next to the kitchen sink.

Not even a full second later, while y/n stares mortifies at her mom and dad, her phone starts to blare the theme song to The Simpsons, the ringtone for her brother.

She picks it up with her jaw still dropped. She answered the phone.

“Y/n! Y/n, PLEASE. WHAT’S GOING ON? PLEASE COME TO THIS PARTY, Y/N, DON’T DO THIS TO ME, Y/N...” her brother’s voice fills the room even when she doesn’t have him on speaker. he’s begging her, his voice truly distraught.

She knows she has no other option that to agree. She couldn’t do that to her brother, not when it’s the only thing he’s talked about for the past month. She wasn’t mean enough to do that to him.

“... FOR TWO WEEKS. I’LL DO ANYTHING, PLE-”

“OKAY! I’ll go, fuck,” Y/n yelled back, exasperated and defeated. She pinched the bridge of her nose, and stares down at her plate, not bearing to look at her mom and dad.

“Thank you! Oh my god, thank you. I’ll pick you up at 5, so-”

Y/n hung up on him. Glared at her mom, and the went to mope until 5 in her bedroom.

.

.

.

Somewhere along the line, moping turned into pre-party prep. She turned her speaker up all the way, and sang at the top of her lungs. Y/n was going in with the mentality of drinking and keeping to herself.  Observing, or locking herself in on of the rooms and fall asleep. She was dreading it, but wouldn’t deprive her brother of this because it meant so much to him. 

Her parents tried coming in several times, and every time she refused to open her door. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, she thought to herself, I’ve got this. 

Once it got closer to 5, she put in some jeans and her favorite t-shirt. A faded purple short-sleeve with a smokey image of Prince on it. She totally didn’t wear it because every time she wore it, Jason complimented her on it. 

It was 4:57 when Andrew knocked on her door. 

“Y/n, y/n, y/n, my sister whom I love so much, can you please-“ he’s knocking rapidly on her door, and y/n throws on a green knit sweater at last minute before opening the door, and her brother knocks right on her eye. 

“Ow!” She helps, the hand that wasn’t holding her shoulder bag reaching up to cover her eye. Andrew gasped, and started to repeatedly apologize. 

“I’m so-“

Y/n, irritated and upset, held up her palm and shook her head. “Just shut it. Please.” Andrew tried saying something, and y/n just pushed past him, staring ahead coldly, “lets go.”

Her previous attitude about this party had returned. She was mad and couldn’t be more bothered to attend. A tiny part, deep in her heart, ached and pulsed wildly. She wasn’t really sure how the night would end, and she didn’t like that. She wanted to know that by 10, she’d be falling asleep after a bubble bath, or reading a book safely in her bed. 

Not drinking and partying with nobody she knew (none of her friends-the little she had- were going). And she was damn sure that Andrew wouldn’t stick around the entire night. No, he’d be eager to be at all places at once, included in all the action. All. The. Action. 

They walked to Andrew’s car in silence, she strutting and fuming with attitude, and he, with his head bowed and cowering like a shunned puppy. Sure, he was older, bigger, taller, buffer than y/n, but when she was mad, he became a scurrying mouse who bent at her command. Not because she was mean or anything like that, but because Andrew loved her and he wanted to see her with a smile, and he figured listening to her was the first step. 

So, he shut the fuck up, and followed behind her, listening closely in case she ordered something else.  To clarify, y/n didn’t order. She said things. But Andrew (again) loved her and took those sayings very seriously. It wasn’t like she was the Wicked Witch of the West with a whip in her hand. It was more like she was a disappointed mother, and he her kid who loved his mom and didn’t want her to be upset at him anymore. Their dynamic was like that. 

Not even a full 10 minutes later, Andrew was pulling into Jason’s driveway, and pulling into his six-car garage, next to Kent’s car. Pulling the key out of the ignition, he sat for a moment, not turning to look at his sister. 

He didn’t have to. 

Without glancing at him, she said, “I want a margarita... please.” Then, she turn to look at him with a tiny smile; a piece offering. She’s forgiven him. And she has. Well, she wasn’t angry at him to begin with, but her irritation is gone.

Andrew laughed, his head thrown back and his ha, ha, ha’s bellowing. “Yes, ma’am. Strawberry or Mango?”

“Both.” Y/n opens the door to the car, and walks through the garage door that leads to the house. The doorway opens into the kitchen, where Kent and Jason are seated on the kitchen isle, a blunt mid-pass from Jason to Kent.

She stops in her tracks, eyes wide at the smell, and the smoke exiting in grey ropes out of Jason’s lips. Andrew pushes past her like nothing, and opens the steel fridge to look for fruit. Jason grins, a slow and lazy spread of his spit-slicked lips. Kent coughs after he inhales.

“Hellooo y/n,” Jason sing-song’s, drawing out her name and laughing. Kent snickered.

“Long time to,” Kent makes a c-shape with his hand, “see,” and bursts out laughing.

“Gimme some of that, dickheads.” Andrew makes a ‘come here’ motion with his fingers.

Y/n fakes a gasp, and hoists herself up onto the counter. She’s been surprised, and a tiny part of her itches because marijuana is a drug, but she can’t really do anything to stop them. They’re half gone and if she said something, she was a party pooper. Tucking her legs underneath herself, she takes a long look at Jason’s kitchen. She’s been in it plenty of times before, when his mom invites her and her brother other for dinner, or breakfast. She’s even helped prepare meals.

But it never gets old.

It always look bright, the lights on the ceiling shine in a way that fills the space, and the reflection off the cream marble glint against the steely surfaces of all the appliances. Toaster, fridge, sink, stove, all a grey color. There was an oven built into the wall, and another right next to it to cook pizza or bread. The kitchen isle in the middle was 7 steps long (she counted once) and 4 steps wide. There was a stove on the counter, and a sink next to it. Jason sat next to the stove, and Kent in the alcove that stretched and transformed into the sink up against the wall.

“... bringing booze and 6, and says he’s got Snopp Dog as DJ. Ben is on back up DJ, or alternate if Snopp wants to.” Kent says, coughing and waving a hand in front of his hand as he does so. Y/n’s ears perk up at his revelation, and her head turns in a peculiar motion.

“Wait, wait, did you say Snoop Dog?” She says, the top half of her body leaning forward. Andrew looks up from his task at the blender, dunking in cut strawberries with ice.

“You heard right, sissy. Snoop Dog!” whooped Andrew, pumping his arm in the air.

“Jesus Christ,” Y/n murmured underneath her breath, shaking her head.

“Raise your hand if you’re staying to fix this place up tomorrow,” said Jason, lifting both of his arms up in the air.

Kent crosses his arms as if he were in a straight jacket, and Andrew laughs and says, “Jason the party keeps going tomorrow.” He presses a button, and the machine starts blending, the loud noise blocking out whatever Jason said next. Whatever it is, Andrew and Kent catch it and bend over laughing, while y/n just watched in confusion.

Once the machine stops, Andrew pours the thick, pink substance into a sugar-rimmed glass, and gives it to his sister. Y/n takes it from him, and looks over at all the ingredients next to the machine because she hadn’t seen what kind of alcohol he put in it. She sees a squat bottle with a green sticker and a cork top; Ciroq.

It’s when she’s puckering her face after her first sip, that the first group of people come in. Andrew and Kent spring forward to answer the door, and Jason just watched them push each other to see who would get there first. Her and Jason are alone in the kitchen, and even though she sees perfectly clear where Kent and Andrew are, she seizes this as her chance to ask Jason what may be her only chance for a stress free night.

Climbing down, she walks over to where Jason sits,and poked his jean clad thigh. “Jason?” She tries not to let her eyes linger on the spots where his plain white shirt pulls tight across his chest, his pectoral muscles rippling. His blonde hair is unruly today, parting down the middle so strands of hair glittered in front of his green eyes.

“Mmm-oh! Yes?” He said, his eyes blinking owlishly at her, slow reflexes when you’re high and all that.

“Is it okay if I lock myself in your room? Or a guest room? Please, I just d-” she started to explain herself when he interrupted her.

“Yes.” Jason placed his hand on her shoulder in a comforting manner, his eyelids drooping a little further than they already were.

“Yes?” She asked, surprised.

“Yes. Si. Oui. Andrew told me what your mom did. And I’m sorry. You can lock yourself in my room. I’m the only one with the key.” He said. Jason stretched, yawning and raising his hands over his head, the bottom of his shirt raising up and revealing the hard lines of his abdomen, the two lines that form a ‘v’; a make shift runway to what lies underneath the waistband of his pants. Y/n, having seen only one other penis, a leaked celebrity’s nudes, is surprised to see that Jason’s doesn’t have a ‘happy trail’.

Clearing her throat, she said, “Thank you. I’m going up there now, okay?” Y/n backed out of the kitchen, Jason’s nodding at her and turning his attention, and what a surprise this is, the blondes that had just walked in with a few dudes who carried packs of beers in their arms. The girls, five of them, all looked like barbie dolls in bikinis.

Rolling her eyes, y/n trudged up the stairs and walked down the hall to Jason’s all-to familiar room. She entered again, into the place she had mulled over many nights in a row.

Jason’s room would be her sanctuary, like it had been that one rainy spring day.

It was just like she remembered it.

For a teenage boy, Jason was very neat. He had a bamboo four poster bed, with Japanese art covering the space above his puffed-up white pillows. His comforter was the same eggshell color of his walls. In front of his bed he had a record player, and a wooden box with records in it. He had a mahogany bookshelf as well, every crevice stacked with books, straight across, and sideways in the spaces between books and the self above it. His room faced the backyard, and y/n had a clear view of the pool and the people that gathered around it. Jason had a window ledge large enough that he could sleep in it comfortably, and judging by the looks of it, he had. There was a tartan quilt and quilt laid out messily on the expanse of it, a book titled Norwegian Wood open with the pages-side down next to the pillow.

His room smelled like him too. No clothes lay scattered in any place, but his scent permeated the room. Sandalwood and vanilla; his musky and sweet scent of boy.

Y/n kicked off her shoes at the foot of Jason’s bed, and set her barely-even-touched margarita on his bedside table, next to a pair of clear lens glasses. That’s funny, she thought, I didn’t know Jason wore glasses.

She tucked herself into his bed, lifting the comforter out of its tucked position, and nestled tightly into the warm cocoon. Taking a deep breath or Jason, her eyes shut themselves, and snapped back open seconds later. Did I lock the door?

Fuck. No, she didn’t. She had to get back up and lock it. Jiggled the knob for extra measure, just to make sure it was locked.  Once she was satisfied,she returned to the bed, and tucked herself in. Her eyes were closing once again, when the thrum of the bass in whatever rap song it was blaring the house, shook through Jason’s room.

No matter. She was out like a light not even 5 minutes later, Lulled to sleep by the smell of Jason.

.

.

.

Jason, Kent, and Andrew were having the time of their fucking lives.

Andrew had forgotten all about y/n after Jason told him she was in his room, and had downed a total of 6 body shots, all on different people. He lost track of how many people took shots on him. Cloud nine, this is what cloud nine is. He was everywhere and nowhere. Try looking for him and you’ll only catch his shirt-tail because he was already moving on to the next scene. If you saw a flipped red solo cup, then he had been there. He was absolutely reveling in the mass of sweating bodies. His yelling inn the cafeteria had paid off.

Everyone and their fucking mom came. He’d seen everyone he knew from school, and twice the amount of people he knew from school that he didn’t recognize. True to his word, his friend had brought Snoop fucking Dog, and he was up by the pool, dj-ing with five towering giants surrounding him. This only brought more attention. The party had spread out to the streets.

Kent was out of his mind, with how high he was. Don’t tell his mom, but he didn’t know what drug it was making it look like the guy passing the blunt had an elephant head. The lights made him feel like he was in a galaxy, sitting on the rings of Saturn with two topless babes under his arms. He sat with a ring of boys in the den, where you couldn’t see past your nose with how much smoke there was in the air.

And Jason? Shit, Jason was having a really hard time getting his dick up. He was in the pool with more than TWENTY topless babes he was supposed to be boning. It was his birthday after all. Andrew had posted a sign on the shallow end of the pool that said ‘only naked babes allowed’, and would appear every five seconds to remind said ‘babes’ to “TAKE YOUR TOP OFF!!!”

No matter how hard he tried, Jason just couldn’t get hard. The girl who pressed her tits in his face- a real 10 really, with bee stung lips and all- was starting to get confused, and Jason was starting to feel like a real tool.

There he was, his party was crazy, police having been chased off, a racoon being passed around on a leash, Snoop Dog having a literal concert inn his backyard, and far off in the distance there was the shinning light of a news helicopter. And he wasn’t having it.

He did for the first hour. Did some shots, smoked more weed, grinded on some people, got grinded on. Someone had inflated a whole-ass bouncy castle next to his garage, and it was filled with nothing but naked girls (which also did nothing for him). And it was fun seeing it build up. It gave him a bit of a heady adrenaline rush, knowing that ll these people where there because-

“So are you gonna let me give the birthday boy, his birthday present?” said the girl who was topless on his lap, her voice sultry and velvety smooth. She was licking a stripe up Jason’s throat, her hips swiveling against his groin.

Jason, still wearing his clothes, jeans and white shirt and all, looked up at his bedroom window, and what he saw made his heart crack in two. Y/n, his precious y/n, was looking at him with horror, tears painting her cheeks not unlike the way they had yesterday in the hallway, and a hand cupped over her mouth. The other hand was lifted up to her ear, and Jason saw that her mouth was moving.

She was on the phone.

He started to feel dirty, like slime. Guilty, was more like it. He realized then that the reason why he couldn’t get hard is because the girl in his lap wasn’t y/n. And seeing her, in his room all alone and in pain, made him feel like scum.

Pushing the girl off without remorse, he said, “No, I don’t think so.” He ignored the girl’s protests, and also whatever the hell Andrew yelled after him. Jason looked straight ahead, striding with intention to his room. It was difficult, with all the bodies and high-fives and bro-slaps he had to give on his way up the stairs, but he made it. He was dripping all over his floor, but he made it.

He hesitated, placing a hand on the door. As the bass of This is How We Do It vibrated through the wall and against his hand, he wondered what would happen when he opened the door. He wanted to console her. Ask her what was wrong, even though he had a large inkling he knew why she was upset- that it might’ve been his fault.

Jason dug his hand into his pocket, using his fingers to peel apart the cloth because it stuck together, and felt for the key to his room. Once he found it, he fed it through the lock, and turned it, the door giving away a sliver to which he was able to peek inside.

Y/n was on the phone. She was sitting at his window ledge, on her knees, still looking out. She hadn’t heard him coming in. Shutting the door closed behind him, Jason held his breath and listened.

“Am I an idiot?” she squeaked, sniffling to the other person on the line. “Why? Well, isn’t it clear. Donna, he’s constantly surrounded by all these skinny, tall blondes, and I’m not like that.”

Jason’s eyes widened. His heart felt as if an arrow had been shot through it.

“I’m so stupid, really. How could I ever think-”

Yes, yes?

“-that Jason could like me?”

He was appalled. Frozen in his tracks, because god did she really think like that? How could she not realize it. She was so precious; all Jason ever though about. If only she knew. If only she knew-

Well, the thing is- and it might be the weed talking, but- she could know. Jason didn’t have to keep it from her anymore. He could tell her. Fuck it. Fuck it all.

“Y/n?” He said. Clearly, not loud enough because she didn’t turn around. He walked to her, close enough that his knees pressed against the ledge of the window seat, and close enough so that he could grab her wrist.

She yelped, surprised, and whipped her head around. When she saw it was Jason, even though he was smiling a dopey, sweet smile that made her want to fall into a puddle, her face fell into one of mortification. He took the phone from her hand and hung up, tossing it on the pillow.

 “Oh, y/n.”

“Jason, I-” Her cheeks flushed. Her words died in her throat, her tears frozen on her lips.

“I like you, y/n. More than you know.” And his clothes were wet sure, but it didn’t matter because fuck. Fuck it all. Jason pulled her up, wrapped a hand around her waist, and kissed her.

A soft, gentle, press of his lips against hers, their noses bumping. She squeaked and tensed, her fingers squeezing his biceps. His thumb rubbed circled to the sliver of skin that peeked from the place where her shirt rode up.

He pulled away from her, and she leaned forward with her own lips puckered, whining because he pulled away.

“I’ve been wanting to do that, for so long, you know?” He told her, placing her back down on the ledge, while she stared back up at him dreamily.

“Why didn’t you?” she asked him.

“Because Andrew would beat me to a pulp,” he said, laughing. “But it doesn’t matter anymore.” Jason reached for the bottom of his shirt, and pulled it over his head, y/n watching with cheeks flaming at the way his skin rippled and tightened with every movement. After a beat she says,

“Why’s that?”

“Because I’d rather get beaten to a pulp, than be away from you any longer.”

super proud of this. THERE WILL BE A PART 2!!

much love, -abigail

[thunder-the-ranger-wolf]

On (Not) Wooing Steve Rogers

@aurumacadicus

Happy birthday, Owl! Hope you like the fic!

Summary: Stony No Powers College AU where Steve is definitely pining over his best friend who is a genius. They go to MIT for different reasons and Rhodey is sick of their shenanigans so he sets them up on a dinner date and he and Carol laugh from across the restaurant as they watch the boys stutter their way through a good time. Turns out, Tony thinks he's hot as hell and "was going to ask him out anyway, thanks, Rhodey! I guess."

Steve

Steve couldn’t stop looking at him. He moved fast and he talked faster. Every other word out of his mouth sounded like a foreign language that everyone in this class could understand except for Steve. He belonged on this track. He deserved to be in this class. But… maybe he’d bit off more than he could chew, coming into a two-hundred-level class and expecting it to make sense. It was on his track sheet, and no one said anything about prerequisites. In fact, when he’d talked to his advisor the older man had waved him off and allowed him into the class. On the request that they meet twice a week to make sure Steve was keeping up with the class. He was lucky that Erskine was so hands-on, but that probably had something to do with the program he was in. An Architecture student who put the art in the architecture, this stuff was going right over his head.

But his classmates were just fine with it, apparently. And so was the boy a few seats in front of him who broke into the teacher’s lecture every five minutes to correct him. Some people were a bit annoyed with the guy, who looked to be around Steve’s age, but he definitely knew what he was doing. He managed to shut them up with each question they asked until they could no longer catch him off-guard and stopped trying after a bit.

Steve was lost by his conversation with the professor and just as lost in the boy’s eyes, one chocolate brown and the other crystal blue. He didn’t even know that type of heterochromia was possible in nature, but it looked right at home on this boy. Steve spent the rest of the lecture sketching the boy’s face and writing down every other word he said. He’d look some of it up later. He needed something to bring to Erskine.

Rhodey

Four classes.

The poor kid beside him was in over his head, a freshman to his junior and Tony’s sophomore. Granted, the only reason Tony was allowed to be a sophomore is that he was a bonafide genius. Well, enough of one to skip most of the early-level classwork required of his degree track.

This kid, on the other hand, needed every single one of them.

And maybe a few others, like how to stop staring hopelessly at the genius boy who is so hopelessly out of your league.

At least this one was Tony’s age. Fucking leeches tried to get the boy for all he had, but this kid was one of the art-types that were attracted to the prestige of the school without really knowing what went into it.

Poor kid.

But four classes of this kid practically drooling over his little shit of a brother would not stand. The kid should ship up and ask a question or just plain ship out because he wouldn’t get anywhere doing this.

Eight classes and the kid… wasn’t hopeless, at least.

“You’ve actually managed to learn something.” Rhodes snorted when the teacher called for a twenty-minute break. This thing was three hours long, as a once-a-week class, but damn if they didn’t deserve every second of that break.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not.” Rhodey snorted, amused. “But at least you’re getting something out of this class, even if it is a little eye-candy.”

“Eye-can-? No!” The boy yelped. “No, it’s not like that at all.”

“So the notebook full of sketches surrounded by random words are supposed to be invisible, got it.”

“Well it’s my stuff, so yeah!” The guy snapped defensively.

“Fair point. What’s your name, kid?”

“We’re all adults here, aren’t we?” The kid asked coldly.

Fair enough.

“Barely.” Rhodey snorts. “Seriously though, you’re what, nineteen?”

The stunned look on the boy’s face told him he was right.

“So’s Tony.” Rhodes offered.

Another look, confused this time.

“Tony Stark is the kid who keeps interrupting the professor to half-way teach the class. The one whose likeness is plastered all over your notebook. You’re in luck, kid.”

“What?”

“He’d probably be willing to tutor you on this stuff. Hell, he’s tutor half the class, if they let him. He’s a total pushover if you know how to ask.”

“How do you ask?”

“Ah, for you… just sit there and look stunned like you usually do, only make sure he can see it. And maybe show him that notebook. He’d stick around for the whole year if you did that.” Rhodes snickered.

The kid shot him a look that, if he was reading this right, bordered on protective.

Oh, this would be way too easy.

“Just because he’s a good person-.”

“Doesn’t mean he’ll help you? Sure it does, he’s a sucker for lost causes. He keeps making them every other day.”

“What?”

“Ah, I guess you’d have to see it to know what I’m talking about. Not that you’ll be getting that far. He builds robots with newborn AIs that he keeps trying to teach. It’s the funniest thing in the world because they’re so cute but so helpless at the same time.”

The kid was interested now, but the break was over.

“Ask him a question or two about the homework late on. If you can understand any of the words on the page, Tony’s got you the rest of the way. Just prove that you’re not a lost cause.”

“I’m not a lost cause.” The kid muttered. “I’m not.”

“Good luck, painter-boy. These engineers will eat you alive.”

Later on

“Don’t you think that show of yours was a little much?” Carol asked as they walked to Boca Grande. Rhodey wasn’t really in the mood for Mexican but he wasn’t sure he was in the mood for much of anything. Art Kid’s dilemma was weighing on him now.

“Well, if I want anything to get through that thick head of his-.”

“Okay, now you’re projecting. James, look at me.” Carol stopped him and Rhodes turned to face the girlfriend he’d pined so hard for just for her to turn around and act like they’d been going out the entire time. “They will be fine. People can get their own dates without their annoying older brothers interfering. You’ve known that kid since he was, like, ten, so I’ll let you off easy here, but he’s finally got someone his age interested in him. Why not let him have a little fun?”

“Because he’s completely oblivious to genuine affection,” Rhodey informed her as if it was something he’d practiced every day in front of the mirror. “Just trust me on this one, if Art Kid doesn’t make the first move then nothing will ever come of this.”

“Fifty bucks says you’re wrong.” Carol insisted. “Give it a month. Don’t interfere. If Art Kid doesn’t make a move then Tony will.”

“God, not another four classes.” Rhodes groaned. “Fine. Whatever. I guess I can stand to lose fifty bucks if the kid shapes up.”

 Steve

Steve did not shape up. He couldn’t help himself. There was no way in hell that guy was talking sense, especially since the guy was right and he didn’t really belong here. What was he doing, anyway? There’s still three-fourths of the semester left, he should go to Erskine and quit while he’s ahead.

The genius boy, Tony, has a mole under his left eye, the blue one. Not the only blemish on his tanned skin, but the most prominent. This guy’s acne stage really did nothing to him, if he even had one.

“Hey, do you know the answer to number three from the homework?” A blonde girl with mischievous green eyes leaned across the aisle and whispered to him. Steve shook his head. It was a multiple-choice question and he’d likely gotten it wrong. God forbid they write a paper anytime soon. He really is in over his head.

“C’mon, we’re almost halfway through the semester, you had to have gotten something right.”

“Fat chance.” Steve groaned.

Besides, even if he did know the answer, he didn’t like where this talk was heading. She might have taken a few tips from the guy next to him on how to look down on helpless fuckers like Steve.

The blond artist shook his head.

“I know it’s at least supposed to resemble an arch, but not how wide, so there’s that.” He groused.

“See? You’re not totally hopeless. You should see what Tony has to say about your homework.”

Steve groaned and buried his head in his arms. So she was in league with the guy who sat next to him.

“I’d rather not.” He informed her acidly.

“What? He’s a good tutor. You see how he gets up there and basically hogs the conversation, the kid knows what he’s talking about.”

“If he’s my age then he’s not a kid!” Steve snapped.

“Sure, sure.” The green-eyed blonde snorted, amused. “My name’s Carol, in case you’re trying to figure out what the hell is going on here. I had money on your actually doing something about your crush over these past eight weeks, but Rhodey was right. Ah, well, goodbye fifty bucks.” She sighed. Her friend, Rhodey, he guessed, snorted.

“Told you the kid wouldn’t know a crush if it hit him in the face.” Rhodey yawned. “Look, kid, Steve. Look, Steve, just ask him a question about the homework, talk a bit about it, play it off like you don’t understand, and slide into ‘talk about it over dinner?’”

“I really don’t understand, though.”

“All’s the better for it, Tony hates posers. Which you’re not. You’re an architecture student, and that takes a lot of engineering, but it also takes a lot of art and angles and knowing what looks good where. There’s a reason you’re here, after all.”

Right.

Steve didn’t know what to do with this, but the least he could do was try.

 “So, the word around class is you’re hopeless.”

He knew that voice. It was the same one he heard every day trying to figure out what the hell the teacher thought he was doing, teaching like this?!

And it shouldn’t be walking him to one of his art classes.

“What’s it to you?” Steve grumbled. Apparently, Rhodey spread tales of his imminent demise at the hands of failure.

“I just so happen to be a tutor, and your grades are projected to be atrocious. Lucky you, everything is technically due at the end of the year, so if you want, I could help you get up to snuff.”

“Uh, sure?” Steve choked out. “Yes, absolutely! I need to pass this class.”

You’re damn right, you do.” Tony chirped. “Which is why I’ve humbly offered my services. See you, next class, we’ll work out a schedule after that.”

The shorter boy breezed off and Steve found himself doing a very good job of watching him go.

“You gonna get to class anytime soon?” Another familiar voice snarked.

“Hello, Carol. What’re you doing in the art building?”

“I have a few classes here, Stevie-boy. And man, am I glass I do. Looks like Tony decided to take things into his own hands.”

“Looks like he did.” Steve snorted. “He called me hopeless.”

“Oh, that’s a great sign! He loves hopeless. Means he can impress you with bullshit. He’s not going to, of course.” She snorted when she noticed to look on his face. “He needs you to pass that class. This is good! You might get a date out of him yet.”

Steve scoffed at that one. Now she was just yanking his chain.

“Yeah, I just might.”

Rhodes

“We’re going on a date.” Carol announced.

“I thought I was choosing the next three dates.” Rhodes objected. “That was the deal we made for the bet.”

“You are, which will work out in everyone’s favor because you know Tony best. Where does he like to eat?”

“Oh, this. You’re lucky I’ve already thought this out because Steve is-.”

“Not as hopeless as we thought. And neither is Tony. We just have to drop hints that their first study session should be somewhere with food, somewhere Tony likes and will want to keep going because your boy rocked up to his crush in the hallway and offered to be his tutor.”

“Yes!” Rhodey threw his hands in the air. “Thank God, we are one step closer. They might get together before the end of the year!”

“So, Tony, what’d you have in mind for tutoring Steve?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, flyboy.”

“Yeah yeah, I don’t know why you think that’s still funny. Anyway, I’m asking because he likes your rambling but he hasn’t gotten anything done since the start of class so you might have to take it slow, y’know, ease him into all this, maybe get some food every few sessions, the usual.”

“I know how to handle dummies, Rhodey, and contrary to popular belief, Steve Rogers is no dummy.”

“Really?” Rhodes crowed, interested. “And just how do you know that, Shrimp?”

“Fuck off, Rhodey, have you seen the curves that boy draws? No way he’s as hopeless as you and Carol think, he’s got to have something between the ears.”

“An artists’ mind, sure.”

“Well, artists have to use the same tools we do, for some projects, just on a smaller scale. If anyone can get Steve Rogers to pass this mind-numbing class, it’s me.”

“Atta boy, Tony. Go get your guy. He looks like he’s lost on campus as well.”

Tony coughed a laugh at that and stuck his tongue out at his friend.

“Next time I see that tongue, it better be down Rogers’ throat!”

“It will be, fuck you very much!”

Steve

Steve had no idea where he was going to find Tony, but at least this looked like a place he would want to be.

“You made it!” Tony crowed. “This is my favorite spot, y’know. They have the best burritos. Chipotle-sized but a million times better. You want to order something and then we can get started?”

“Sure, yeah.”

Steve stuttered through his order, a chicken-pineapple enchilada with green chile sauce and a Sprite. Tony made him look smooth by comparison because he couldn’t decide if he wanted an enchilada, a tamale, or a burrito. The waitress grinned and said, “I’ll put you down for your usual.” before going back to the kitchen.

“Yeah, that was probably a good idea,” Tony grumbled. “Now, show me some vocab skills, what’s up with your notebook?”

 Tony kept taking him to random places to eat every Thursday. This time, he asked if they could go to a bar. Irish pub, technically. He knew it wouldn’t be anything like the stuff his mother called dinner but it’d be close enough. Indeed, the Black Rose did not disappoint. Or at least it was about what he expected. They got carded but as long as they stayed away from the bar, the bouncer wouldn’t say anything. Steve wasn’t in the mood for alcohol anyway. Steve got bangers and mash and Tony asked for a chicken pot pie. Steve wondered if they were made fresh. His mother loved chicken pot pie but he couldn’t get past the slimy feeling.

The fast-paced atmosphere fir the mood for the night because Tony was quizzing Steve for the upcoming test. Some of it would be multiple choice but this time there would be diagrams, so Steve would actually have to know what he’s doing. He does, surprisingly enough. Tony’s study sessions have really helped, and Steve’s even been able to get through the lectures with more coherent notes.

This was proved when he saw his grades online.

“I got a C on the test!” He exclaimed.

“That’s great, Steve, it’s two in the morning. Go the fuck to sleep.”

“Sam, Sam, you don’t get it, this one engineering class has been driving me batshit and I finally proved I belong in the class!”

“I’ll probably freak out tomorrow but I just came back from a long shift so if you could-.”

“Oh, yeah. Definitely. Gnight, Sam.”

His roommate yawned and nodded off pretty quickly.

Six hours later, he heard “wait a minute, that one class with the boy you’ve been drooling over who tutored you? That class?!”

“Yep.” Steve yawned. He never understood how Sam Wilson could be such a morning person on maybe six hours of sleep.

“Hey, that’s amazing! Everyone says that class is stupid hard to follow if you don’t already know what the kid up front is talking about and half the time people have to stay behind and ask him to break stuff down.”

“Wait, what?”

“Well yeah, it’s a junior-level class, Steve, what were you expecting?”

“I… not that. I thought it was just me.”

“Aw, Steve… look, find the guy who was tutoring you. He’ll know what I’m talking about. You should be extra proud of that C, too. Means you can get all your homework done before the year is out.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Steve muttered. He should probably have asked Erskine more questions before he went along with this class.

 “You got a C? On that last test? Steve, that’s brilliant!”

Even Rhodes was congratulating him. This felt… strange.

“No, seriously, that last test was not easy. And you actually got some of the questions that everyone missed, even Carol and I. Those study dates are paying off.”

“Yeah, I guess they are.” Steve mumbled.

If this was how Rhodes was reacting, he wondered how hyper Tony would be.

 “I have succeeded!” Tony crowed for damn near the entire building to hear. “And clearly so have you. Lemme at that test of yours, I need to see every-. Fuck yeah, it’s a High C, too! You passed, Steve! This is the second major test of the class and you passed enough to make up for the first one! That, plus all the homework you turned in. You should come out relatively unscathed. And if you play your cards right, with a B.”

“That might be pushing it.”

“Oh no, trust me on this one. You’ve been trusting me on everything else. So, where do you want to go?”

“Go? What for?”

“To celebrate! This is an accomplishment, Steve, this class is hard enough for the best Architecture students. They just dumped you in here, no prerequisites or anything, and expect you to pass with flying colors? But you have, and that’s great!”

“You seem to have no trouble with any of the coursework.”

“Well, that’s because I’m a literal genius, Stevie. Joined Mensa and everything.”

“Huh.” Several things clicked into place and he nodded. “Okay. Well, we keep going out for study sessions so why not stay in this time? Watch a movie or something? We could order pizza or something.”

“You mean you’re not sick of pizza?” Tony cackled. “But yeah, let’s do that. Want anyone else to be there?”

“I mean, we both have roommates, so whoever’s place we go back to, someone’ll be there. Did you not want them to be?”

“Wow, you’re dense. I thought Rhodey was joking, but nope, you’re dense.”

“Hey, you can’t take back your-!”

Tony rolled his eyes and yanked Steve down to his eye-level. Before Steve could say anything else, their lips met.

The kiss was brief and Steve had to lick his lips twice after that.

“You need chapstick.” He blurted out.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony grumbled. “Totally not the point, but whatever. We’ve been going out for literal weeks, Steve.”

“Oh. Shit.”

“Yep.”

“Cool.”

“So we’re good?”

“We’re great!”

“Do you still want our roommates to be there for movie night?”

“Nah, Sam’ll be annoying if I get you to kiss me again. But we’re still ordering pizza.”

“All the cheese your heart desires.” Tony drawled. “And I still wanna see what’s in that notebook of yours.”

[datingintampafails]

Chapter 11: Darren*

Disclaimer: a multitude of events/details have been left out of this chapter, both for increased anonymity of myself and the gentleman in question, as well as I started writing this two months after this all happened, so apologies.

Darren* is actually someone that I work with at one of my jobs, of which I have three. Upon starting my position there and meeting him, I was immediately attracted. He is from a Scandinavian country originally and just comes with that natural Scandinavian good looks. He acted a little immature, in a way that is just everything is sexual, a natural flirt. For a few months, I had an innocent little crush on him, purely infatuation. 

Often we would say hi in passing and he was always really helpful when it came to patients. He got along with everyone and despite his lewdness, I really enjoyed working with him. There were multiple times that we would walk and talk in the hall, he would express embarrassment to me over him having acne, and would openly announce that he was switching what side he was on because he didn’t want me to see it. I, in my thinking he was out of my league and I was secured in the friend/coworker zone, would be super transparent, and as well complain about my acne, and described in detail the acne patches I would use.

All seemed platonic until one day out of the blue he just leaned in close to me and asked me if he could have my Snapchat. I immediately was like oh yeah of course! From there, we talked throughout the days daily for about a week. 

I let him and my coworker in MRI know that I’m gonna bring in food on the weekend since I got a huge crockpot meal from my Home Chef meal kit boxes and wanted to share the love. When really, although I did do that, I was on purpose making sure I did it on a day Darren* was working. I made sure to wear an outfit that would get his attention without trying too hard: well-fitting yoga pants and a tank top. I arrive and I call their department to let them know I’m here with food. Darren* answers the phone and there’s video chat so I also see him. I say “hey I’m here! Chicken tacos in the break room.” He says “Are they hard or soft?” in the innuendo way he does. What he doesn’t know, is he’s met his match since I’m also kind of a perv. I respond “what do you think?” seductively and with a wink. He laughs and just goes “oh alright.” I say “Nah but seriously they’re soft tacos.” He says “my favorite! We’ll be over soon.” The cavalry arrives and everyone eats their food and thanks me. I’m not really getting the quality time I was hoping for but I’m still happy. Finally, everyone starts to kinda make their way out until it’s just Darren* and I. We just chat. This is when somehow or another I find out he has a tattoo in a more rated R area. I laugh. He asks me about my outfit and if I am going to the gym. I say no that I was just trying to be comfortable but still look good enough to be outside of my house. He says he should probably get back to work and will snap me later.

Late that night, I ask him more about his tattoos, and I tell him about mine. I send him photos of a couple of my PG tattoos, he sends me his PG tattoos (yes this does imply we both have rated R tattoos). I think this is a moment that is kind of exposing but could also just be innocent as well. 

The next week, we again worked together, and he would come by, a little more than usual, saying hi to me and chatting before returning to work. The last time he stops by before he leaves for the day, he gives me a hug. Now, this hug wasn’t like a normal hug, it was super awkward, incredibly on my part.

You see, I did not expect this to happen and I was sitting down so he approached me for the hug while I was sitting. In attempts to make this less horrible, which backfired, I decided to begin standing up during the hug. Not only did I do this, no that would be still not horrible, but I then put my arms around him diagonally. Yes, that cringy one arm on the shoulder/neck and the other around the waist. At this moment I am well aware of what terrible state I am in, but am surprised and pleased that regardless of how awkward I have positioned myself that he is still holding onto me. He is in fact at this moment squeezing me tightly, comfortably. 

Somehow this embrace lasts for probably a good twenty seconds. I’m sure I am red in the face but he says bye talk to you later and leaves. Immediately, I Snapchat him and say “I’m so sorry that was such an awkward hug. I need a do-over please.” His response is something along the lines of, “It’s all good I live for the cringe” with a laughing face emoji. Otherwise, we continue to talk as we were.

I offer him my number, thinking like we are getting along well and are maybe at that point. He says that he actually prefers Snapchat, as his cell service isn’t very good with his provider (which I shall not name), so he communicates a lot more with Snapchat anyway. We somewhere too in this time say we’re going to hang out on Saturday, and I’ll cook him some food.

Oh and now is your first preview of me being sneaky and retrieving Snapchat screenshots via taking pics of my phone screen. Step One, send a thirst trap. 

Step Two: He responds to the thirst trap. I remember also saying something after that, despite not having it in the screenshot, where I say, “Is that why you don’t wear a dress to work?” Which is what he is responding to in the third photo.

I’m also still wondering, is he just being a flirt, or is this man interested? Soon I would get my answer. 

Now, it is the weekend, Friday night. I mention to him that I’m walking to my friend’s house and I’m going over to drink some wine and eat pasta. I send him Snapchats of my friend on Hinge swiping, and us playing “Tinder March Madness,” a game I saw on Tik Tok and thought was funny. Essentially, you right-swipe on all of the men, no matter what. Give it some time and wait for the matches to roll in. Then there are certain point values that go along with certain dating profile tropes. The person with the most points “wins” each round until the “Ultimate Tinder Guy” is found. Anyway, I send these to him half to be like LOL look at this stupid stuff, half to see if I get a rise out of him/he gets a little bit jealous. He is also with friends, so I don’t necessarily get in-depth answers or quick responses. I do mention to him that I’m leaving my friend’s apartment soon, and will be walking by myself. At this point it is nighttime. We do live in a relatively nice area, but it’s still a little scary to walk by yourself in the dark. I give him a call via Snapchat, he doesn’t answer but I know he’s with his friends, so it’s all good.

I arrive home and almost immediately after I walk through the door, I get a Snapchat call back from him. He asks me if I’m okay and if I got home safely. I am honestly surprised he called me back. I tell him I’m fine. He continues to talk to me on the phone and even puts me on speakerphone. The one part that hurts my soul is he does say that I’m his “friend, Mandy,” but hey, a friend is better than a co-worker. I talk with his friends about gaming, drinking, say I’ll drink some Everclear with them, go really hard. Darren* then says he’s gonna find somewhere more private to talk to me, takes me off speakerphone. We shoot the shit a little more, then he says he had just gone running and is gonna take a shower and will talk to me later. I end the call.

Literally one minute after ending the call, I receive a Snapchat from him. This is a picture Snapchat. It is a photo of him completely naked. Where his package would be is conveniently blocked by the level of the counter in his bathroom. Highly suggestive, though not a complete nude. What is my response? Something along the lines of “oh my!!!!” Any confusion I had was gone. Like alright, this man just sent this photo to you because he is into you. It’s late and I’m going to sleep anyway, so I figure I’ll just message him in the morning to clear things up before we hang out.  

Before I can even confront him in the morning, he messages me. I, unfortunately, don’t have a screenshot for this. But he says whereas he isn’t exactly looking for a relationship at this moment, that he wants to see where things go with me and see what happens. I tell him that how I feel is I don’t like to put expectations on anything anyway and that I’m happy to do that and just follow where the vibes go between us. We’ve come to an agreement! With that, he says he is super hungover and is going to take a nap, and will let me know about coming over later. By the early evening, he says he wants to reschedule since he still feels like shit. I’m on call a lot, so we just schedule it tentatively for next Saturday and I see if I can get my call covered another day sooner so we can see each other before then. 

I’m able to contact my manager the next day and I let him know I now have Wednesday free for him. I’m on call at our workplace the day I let him know that, and I jokingly tell him he is in charge of calling me in. Of course, I actually do get called in, though it isn’t him that lets me know. I arrive and hang out in the area he works in while I wait for the patient to be ready. He is not there and is off doing other stuff. He comes in and is surprised to see me, which checks out since I did tell him I was coming in, but he hadn’t opened that Snapchat yet. We hug hello, not awkwardly now, and he talks about his hands being cold. Essentially then we are holding hands. While the other coworkers are off tending to patients, we stand close together and chat. My patient arrives, and I ask him to help me move them. I observe him with a patient and he really is a great caregiver, it’s attractive. He helps me then says he’s gonna run back to his department and will be back. When he returns he says he is actually leaving for the night. My patient’s scan is more or less on autopilot, so I position ourselves away from the window that looks into the room. I embrace him and say I’m looking forward to seeing him next time we work together and on Wednesday. I think back and know I probably should have kissed him, but I didn’t, probably the thought of being at work and although no one was there and watching, still felt inappropriate.

I finished my work and returned home. Monday we spoke throughout the day, flirtatious and excited. We worked together Tuesday and when I walked in for the day, I immediately happened upon him in the break room. I sat down next to him and discussed timeframes for our hangout the next day. He is happy and upon another coworker walking in, I briefly say hey and disperse. Darren* comes into my department, as he does often, and is talking with everyone. One of our coworkers mentions to him that they want to talk to him about something. I’m not sure what it is about, but I do get a hit of anxiety wondering if he had told them about me, and it was regarding our relationship. Work goes by and they do go off and talk. Afterward, he is kinda brief in saying goodbye, which makes my anxiety increase. 

I send him a message just again mentioning a timeframe for our next day’s plans. An hour or so after he left he responds saying that he is actually starting to talk to someone and didn’t want to do the next day because he didn’t want to jeopardize that, as he thought if he came over the next day he didn’t know what would happen. His phrasing was “is it okay” if we don’t see each other. So I say something like, “well I wouldn’t want to complicate things, I’m not happy about it but I understand.” He also expressed he was worried about work, though, at this point, I was about to start my new job and had told him about this. He mentions not having a “crystal ball” and that he doesn’t know what will happen in the future, blah blah blah. That we could still be with each other someday.

I am beyond confused. Literally three days before this, he had been the one to initiate things and asked for us to see where things go, wasn’t interested in a relationship, when suddenly now he is, albeit with someone else, and is interested enough to be afraid something romantic would happen if we were alone together, but not enough see where it goes.

In response, I give into a TikTok trend where you ask people what your type is. I did this that night. He did not take kindly to it. His response was kind of like, what is this? I was angry and thought this was a good way to have some self-deprecating humor. Essentially “douchebag,” “extroverted gamer,” “emotionally unavailable,” “guys with girlfriends,” and “Trump supporters,” were mentioned in this. Many of those descriptions which could describe Darren* at that moment. 

I was still very hurt days afterward and didn’t know what would happen once we saw each other again at work. Come next workday together, he was starting to be on temperature check duty at the hospital. I did not know he was though, and stumbled upon him as I was going out to say hi to another co-worker I knew was out there. It was very awkward at first but we became more on friendly terms. Toward the end of the night, we were alone back inside for a moment. I asked him some questions about his life and such. As the night went on we did embrace a few times and were very close. It was more confusing but he did still seem into me. We left at the same time and he walked me to my car where we lingered and talked and held each other. I did feel pretty bad, as I would sometimes see his phone, see him talking to this other girl, and sometimes I would just happen to see his messages with her and could tell that he did care for her. And in character, it was on Snapchat, so he may have been completely honest regarding using Snapchat as his primary communication method.

Basically a similar scenario continued on for the next four weeks, each time it becomes more and more difficult/intimate. One week we took a walk around the campus and cuddled in the grass, watching the stars. The bugs made us move, but we had a closeness. We just barely kissed one time. He would grab my hips and touch my body when we were alone. Constantly he would resist, I was just as confused as he wasn’t dating this person. Another night, we are walking together doing rounds through the hospital, when one of his close coworkers casually mentions he’s uncircumcised. Which was just some bizarre information. It was funny to see him embarrassed.

Finally, after four weeks of this “what is going on” scenario, I have him call me. I tell him essentially that if he and this woman are still not exclusive, that we should still give this a shot or at least hang outside of work and see what is truly going on. I reiterate his crystal ball thing. I am truly speaking in our both interests, as we have been playing a dangerous game. He says he will talk to her that night and figure out what is going on, as she has been kind of putting off/delaying that conversation. He says he will let me know what she says and will think about it if they don’t become exclusive, as he admits that he doesn’t see the point of staying with her if she doesn’t want to become official. I follow up the next day, asking how it went. He says it didn’t come up and apologizes, though saying he will soon. A few days after that, I find out that they must have had the conversation, because “Darren* is now in a relationship” appears on my Facebook news feed. I message him in Snapchat and congratulate him. I do truly wish them the best, and take the situation as a lesson learned.

A couple of months later, present-day as I write this, I notice a name that looks familiar on a patient’s chart. Casually I bring it up to my coworker, saying “isn’t that Darren*’s girlfriend?” and it is confirmed. I become infuriated and text my friend immediately, explaining the situation I have just uncovered. This new information does add to my displeasure, as I realize that this guy’s now girlfriend also works here and that it is quite possible that he could have been seeing her on any of those days that we had become so close. This disgusted me. I did see him a couple of days later and casually mentioned to him, “I didn’t know your girlfriend worked here.” He hit me with a “yeah she does.” I felt it important to let him know, I know. I try and remain cordial, but it is extremely difficult when I learn more and more about how scummy he is. Later that day that I let him know, he told me it was “good seeing me” and I literally responded with a vomit noise. Even if things don’t work out with his lady, and I’m still single, that “crystal ball” will not do him any favors.

[opes-magnas]

those two days.

A wise man once said, ”The bad news is, nothing lasts forever and the good news is, nothing lasts forever.”

That’s freaking bullshit. Whoever told that hasn’t gone through the amount of trauma I’ve been through, which made every single moment feel like an eternity. Oh wait! I should’ve explained it more graphically.

Every single second felt like I was being skinned alive and being rolled over in salt and then fried in burning hot oil, then my limbs being torn out of my body and I could probably go on forever. In short, my time as a mortal on this planet has been miserable.

My mother and father were the epitome of love, they were the ideal couple who fell in love as soon they laid eyes on each other and the middle of their story is so cliché I’d rather let you imagine it in the most typical way possible and the end of it is, they got married!

They sadly never had their happily ever after cause they then got pregnant with me.

(After 9 months of my mother craving weird things)

He kept pacing the length of the waiting room, anxious, his face was dripping with perspiration and his brows were knitted in deep thought, his hands were clasping and unclasping and fidgeting with his jacket.

* Piano playing a sad note*

He hears the OR doors opening and rushes towards the doctor and shakes that poor guy until he’s pale. The doctor says that there were a lot of complications with his wife’s pregnancy and that they could save only one of them, and his wife told them to save his child and that he now has a healthy 4.5 pound baby boy.

He fell to the ground. How could he even live without his beloved wife! His moon and stars, his better half! He felt so utterly devastated.

Sometimes when people lose the very thing that defines their life, the very thing that they lived and breathed for, they lose faith and when that happens there is no coming back.

I think this was that moment for my father. I’ve always wondered how anyone could love anything so intensely. But I guess love is a very elusive thing which sadly won’t fit into the bounds of words.

I can try to make sense of though, from what I’ve seen, love is when my father returned home after a tired day of work and as soon as he saw the face that opened the door, he could find calmness in spite of all the chaos surrounding him. One of the biggest regrets of my life is that I couldn’t see and feel that pure unconditional love.

Anyways, in my bittersweet flashback my father also gets to know that it was my mother’s intentional decision to give her life in order to save mine.

So, from that day my father loathed to see my face. As every time he looked at me, I reminded him of the day he lost the purpose of his life. He became an alcoholic and just gave me money to do whatever the hell I want with it.

I never actually went to school regularly, used to bunk most of the time. But that didn’t matter because I passed somehow by cheating and my street smartness. But, it really hit me when I flunked my senior year and all of my friends went to Ivy League colleges, while I was left to attend my dreadful senior year AGAIN with a bunch of crackpots.

Though, that wasn’t the part that made me lose my sense of self- dignity. It was when the look of nonchalance on my father’s face when he heard the former news. Even this far in life I didn’t have goal or any plans to look forward to. This part kept me most of the nights and stole any little peace of mind I had left.

Then I attended community college in hopes of at least getting proper education. In college, I couldn’t stick to any one major for a year as I was pretty fickle minded about it.

One sunny happy day, birds are chirping, I’m braying Beyoncé’s halo and enter the college premises to see this guy snogging my girlfriend. My fury knows no bounds as I beat the shit out of him then I get to know that my girlfriend had been cheating on me with him for many months. But, it was too late to reconsider my actions as I had probably broken 50 of his bones oops!

Then I got slapped an assault case and got expelled from college for disgracing them. This particular joke that I’m about to say is a big touché moment but humour at my expense has been a trend I’ve experienced everywhere so hell with it.

I got expelled from a freaking community college with drug addicts, goons, people who have flunked their freshman year about 3 times go to. And I have been expelled from such a college for “disgracing them”!!!

Go on laugh yourself out.

But a tiny ray of hope appeared after a jumbo combo of disappointment with a side of bad luck and a dollop of ugly fate. I was discovered by the basketball scouts and got a chance to play in the local league and if I did play well, I had a chance of playing ball in college! They absolutely loved me. I had gotten so used to people being disappointed in me that I was so unsure of myself when people really appreciated me.

But as you know of my series fuck ups I had to screw this one too. But, this one was the most epic of them all. I had a few shots in before the game just to you know, bring that edge.

During the game, when I was passed the ball, my drunken brain thought it was the head of my ex-girlfriend and I started smashing the ball against my head (which my brain thinks as a pathetic attempt of kissing “her” or rather “it”). So, at the end, everyone thought I was some lunatic and I got kicked off the field (literally).

I finally let go of all the little self-respect I had and applied for a job as a cashier at McDonalds. And the reply from them was the single most embarrassing moment of my life.

I got rejected!

Then I heard a call saying that my grandpa had died but he had also left me the family mansion, which I assume is out of pity for being ignored for most of my life. This was just in time (not my grandpa’s death of course! Gee I’m not so devoid of emotion!) as I was being kicked out of my apartment due to not paying rent for past 3 months and needed a place to crash.

But, aside from that I was a 23 year old man with no job, no girlfriend, and no degrees to show for, no friends and absolutely broke. I should be the poster boy for the word “miserable” (at least that way I’ll make some profit out of my pathetic existence of a life).

The mansion looks absolutely beautiful from outside. It has a huge dome at the centre with 2 parapets flanking its either sides. The entire dome is made of tinted blue glass which makes it look like it’s a part of the sky but a glistening one filled with hand painted butterflies, hummingbirds, Macau’s and various other exotic species of birds.

The front lawn is as exorbitant as a rare and secret meadow left untouched by mankind, where the flowers unknown grow at their own liberty, unrestricted where bees hover over them making a slight buzzing sound . The whole estate looks so unreal and glorious, it is like a medieval castle left untouched.

But, all I could feel by looking at it was dejection. I felt even this wonderful piece of architecture was looming over and looking at me in pity. I sighed heavily and gathered my meagre possessions and stepped inside.

It was even more splendid from the inside. I don’t know what I’ll do with so much space, I could fit all of my things in the pantry closet! I just lay down on the plush divan to take a small nap because thinking about my wretched life made my mind blackout and heavy like I’d had a few too many tequila shots.

“Poor boy, how can anyone’s life be so tragic and pitiable!?” said pride, wiping off the tears rolling down its cheek, “I know what a troubled childhood feels like, even my mother was too haughty to admit that she had become too fat because of giving birth to me and she never looked at me with a hint of motherly affection, it totally damaged my self-confidence.”

“As if you ever had it to begin with! You appeared to be so full of yourself in front of people but deep down you’re a pathetic little wimp!”

“Stop it envy! See, you made him cry, aren’t you living up to your name! Always jealous of others! I know it’s like we can invade his privacy, by taking a peek at his thoughts, but this boy can’t even defend himself. He doesn’t get angry at all when people talk all sorts of things about him! How can he even live with himself!”

“Now now, anger you don’t upset yourself too much, your BP is gonna skyrocket. All this boy needs to do is to get laid man! He so uptight, he needs to loosen up a little and take a chill pill.”

“I totally agree with you, said Sloth, he needs to take some time out for himself and have a little self’-introspective nap once in a while right, Glutton?”

“All you ever do is take naps! And anyways he needs to round up and appear fuller, he’s such a scrawny kid! Eat more spaghetti and meatballs!”

“You’re awfully quiet Greed, speak up man this isn’t like you! You’re always complaining that you don’t as much time to speak”.

“Yeah dude, it’s just I’ve never seen any man not having even basic survivalist desires. We gotta help this fella.”

“Okay then roll up your sleeves gentlemen and ugh *cough* cough* sorry woman, we got some work to do!”

I opened my eyes and nearly peed myself in the pants, in front of me were six men and woman, I screamed like a cat dunked in a bucket of water!

“Hey Yo mate, chill down, we’re just here to help”, said a boy who was in his teens clearly by the amount of acne on his face and the ripped jeans and hoodie he wore further justified my guess, he wore a badge called “sloth”

What a weird name, I thought. Who would like to be named after the sloth bear!

“Yo, for the fact the sloth bear was named after me!”

“Now, sloth you need to follow your own words, the boy must be scared shitless. By the way, I’m Greed, nice to meet you too and that rude fellow was Sloth.”, spoke a middle aged man with a rather baggy shirt and tight jeans.

“Guys let’s introduce ourselves to make it easier for him. Hello young fellow, I’m Glutton!”, said a shirtless man whose abs glistened with sweat as though he’d come from a workout.

“Hello kitten, I’m Anger.”, said a strikingly beautiful woman with a purple dress synched at the waist with a Gucci belt and black stilettos.

“Greetings from the better part of hell dear, I’m Envy.”, said a man with a formal attire and red horn-rimmed glasses.

“Morning, I’m Pride.”, said a tall man wearing an expensive Armani suit, reebok sunglasses and slick blonde hair.

“Hi, I’m Lust.” ,he whispered, God he must be the male-version of Aphrodite! He was enough to turn a straight man like me, gay.

(I gave such detailed description of them, as they keep recurring and I wanted you guys to see them exactly like I did.)

“Umm. Hi, I’m max I guess.”, I blurted.

“God! We need to work on your self-confidence boy! Okay I’ll tell you why we’re here. While you were napping, we looked into your past and thought you might need a little boost to help you live a better life. So, each of us will help you in their own area of expertise and ooh! I almost forgot we are here only for two days, so buckle up!”

Have become schizophrenic?! I am hearing voices in my head!

“Relax honey, we are visible and audible only to you.”, Anger said.

“Humph okay, what should I do to get rid of you lot?”

Quit the sarcasm brother, first we need to get a good workout. Come on move your ass, and Glutton then pulled me away for what seemed like forever and made me workout like hell. The workout was so intense, I was so sore I couldn’t move a muscle and every time I got up my butt ached.

But, when I looked in the mirror, I couldn’t believe my eyes, my body looked like it was photo shopped! Six pack abs, killer thighs, amazing collar bone and to top it off a chiseled jaw! I looked like a Greek God!

Then, without wasting a minute, Sloth whisked me into the kitchen which was filled with amazing food and magazines. He told me, “You know what mate, you need to take some time out for yourself and make yourself happy once in a while.”

I never forgot those words.

I ate to my stomach’s fill, of course only healthy foods allowed (Glutton approved- check). Then my slot was with Anger.

We took a walk and were talking everyday stuff when she pulled me into a McDonald’s. I resisted as I had just eaten the feast of my life, but she insisted and made me sit down in a booth.

“Sometimes anger in the right direction is okay.”

Then a waiter came and asked for our order, before we could even blink an eye, he started bellowing out like a cow belching and started telling people that I was the specimen of a man who got rejected even from a McDonald’s job and thought a ball was his ex-girlfriend!

People around me started taking selfies and snaps of me and posting it on social media.

Anger whispered, “You need to defend your honour, sugar. No one is going to do it for you.”

I mustered all the courage I had left in me and punched that guy in his face. I pulled Anger away and we made for the run.

After the running all the way to house, I told her, “I never felt so exhilarated and satisfied in my entire life!”

“But, remember kitten, anger only in the right direction and for the right cause, like you defending your honour for example.”

Will remember, Ms. Anger.

Then Pride and Greed approached me together and took me into my room and gave my laptop.

“Listen son, you are quite capable and intelligent, all you need is to believe in yourself a little more and go after the things you want.” , Pride said. “So you need to write an essay to get into Ivy League colleges with full scholarship, so begin writing.”

I bit my lip. Just believe in yourself.

Then I wrote my essay by pulling an all-nighter and submitted it.

I could feel someone shaking me hardly, I rubbed my eyes and opened them reluctantly only to see Greed pulling off my blankets and telling me to get ready for a small basketball session.

We then drove over to the Baltimore city gym, I then realized he had brought me to the basketball try-outs for the city’s team!

Believe in yourself.

After almost half a day, we returned home then Lust dragged me into various clothing stores and dressed me up and told me to remember one girl who had impacted me the most.

Then, I thought how I could miss the one girl who stood with me through thick and thin! She never doubted me! Suddenly I could remember all the subtle hints she gave throughout the time we were friends, and I, a fool, never paid her enough attention, trying to go after girls who were popular!

Oh Sarah! Then I saw the smirk on Lust’s face and knew he was the one who helped me clear my thoughts.

He murmured, “Go! You moron.”

I rushed to my car and drove to Sarah’s house and almost punched a hole into her front door trying to knock.

The door opened, and when I saw her face, I found calm in midst of all chaos of my mind, guess I finally got to see the true love I always yearned for.

I gave her my true confession with gulps in between.

She told, “I thought you’d never realize.”

I pulled her waist close to me, and whispered in her ear, “Better late than never” and tucked the hair on her cheek behind her ear and kissed her like I’d never see her again.

Well, two days passed within a blink of an eye, and yet I have changed so much, grown into a better man. Oh! Only Envy hadn’t had his chance to speak to me.

I then told Sarah I’d see her tomorrow and drove back to the house to see all of them standing on my front porch. I got down and t and went and hugged each one knowing it was time to say our goodbyes.

Envy stepped forward, “Max, we always knew you were a special young man, but always remember that when you succeed, there are always gonna be people who will envy you and try to bring you down, you have to then remember how hard you worked to get there and say, fuck you assholes and stay put.”

“I love you guys; do you have to go?”

“Yes child, but we will be watching you, okay?”

Goodbye.

When I was going to unlock the front door, I saw my reflection on the glass, and I then I realized that I was always like this, but I never saw myself for what I really am.

I measured my life by milestones and achievements all along, never realizing those small moments where I was the best possible version of myself.

I guess, the old wise man was correct.

Epilogue – After a year

I am so busy right now, I don’t even have the time to write this, but I know you guys I are curious of what happened after that.

I got selected to play college ball for Princeton University with a full scholarship. Sarah and I are in a very serious relationship and we are thinking of getting married after college, oh and by the way, she also got accepted to Princeton.

I also work as a part time model for Vogue (who knew!) I think I may be playing for the NBA next year.

And I made things right with my father and actually forgave him of all his shortcomings.

I am so grateful and happy for those two days last year, though I still think my mind is playing tricks with me as I went back the McDonald’s store and asked the guy whom I punched if he remembered me and he gave this weird look .

Anyways, you guys might have thought I have finally achieved something, but I think otherwise. I am still so very insecure about myself in a thousand different ways. But when I wake up in the morning, I am so grateful for being given this life in contrast to before when I used to wonder my purpose.

~ Lady Lazarus

[airingemilysthoughts-blog]

The Significance of a Crush

There was one time where a boy had a crush on me. In the fourth grade. He told me to meet him on the playground after lunch. When I met him there he confessed his crush on me. I had no idea what to do with that information so I said thank you and then we went back to living our simple lives as normal. He was charming but goofy, Every girl in my grade was repulsed by him because he had a unique sense of humor that they saw as immature and his face was covered in freckles which was weirdly looked down on. I was charmed by this regardless. I had been raised with brothers with raunchy humor and acne so I was not fazed by that and only saw this boy for his constant sweet gestures to me. 

That was the first and only time a boy has ever admitted to having a crush on me. 

In the fourth grade when it meant nothing. 

It may not seem like a big deal, but it was in middle school when the significance of having boys crush on you become something that I craved to feel normal. 

When I made friends in middle school I was genuinely myself. I was a weird quirky girl with a good sense of humor that people just liked to have around. I made friends easily and was never really threatened by the idea of loneliness. (Later in life I would find out about how to quality of your friends is more important than the quantity, but this did not matter then.) So I was friends with popular kids. I was loud and funny and people thought that was cool. I hung out with girls that played in soccer leagues and were rich enough to play select and not parks and rec. I was friends with girls that boys liked. I was surrounded by girls that were incredibly skinny and athletic. It felt like I was the only girl in the world to grow in some curves. The loneliness that I had felt confused me because how could I be lonely whilst having so many best friends?  Meanwhile, guys at my school were discovering the freedom that middle school provided. You could swear without supervision and you could date girls and your mom wouldn’t have to know. This caused for a peak amount of guys asking girls out. Of course, these relationships were pointless. But, they meant something to each kid. It represented the fact that someone found you attractive or worthy to date and take interest in.

All my skinny cool athletic friends were absolute gold to these boys. It felt as though they were dating a new guy every week. My best friend had a boyfriend for a while. They dated for two months which was a big deal in the middle school timeline. But, they never ate lunch together or hung out outside of school so most of their conversing took place online. It was a useless relationship that I had no need or craving for because it had a complete lack of substance. It was worthless, I didn't need it. So why did it hurt so bad when I didn't have that? 

I think that the reason that I had craved this type of relationship was for the attention and the validation. As insignificant as it was, it was a time where you needed to hear affirmations about yourself to stay sane. My friends would constantly tell me that I looked good and that the right guy would come along and yada yada. But there was never a single boy that took interest. It goes without saying that it was upsetting to sixth grade me. 

It was the affirmation that I craved so severely. All I wanted was to hear the validation that a boy liked me. All I wanted to know was if I was good enough to be loved. 

In middle school there was a strange system of communication through others. If you wanted to talk to a boy you’d have to talk through three other people to get to him. I was never shy to take this risk, I was an open book. I had always thought that a crush is not something to be embarrassed about. I had seen it as a certain type of compliment. 

I had always been picky with the guys that I would have a crush on. Not that I was the greatest at choosing bachelors, but I prided myself in being especially picky when reaching out to the guys my age. But, there was one boy that sparked my interest more than others. We hung out a lot outside of school because we were family friend. We were especially friendly outside of school but did not have any classes together in school and had different friend groups. So one day I had asked a friend who shared science class with him to ask him if he would like to be my boyfriend. He came up to me afterwards in the hall and said “let me think about it”. This only led to my hopes being raised and the eventual letdown that was him telling me through three other people that he was ultimately uninterested. 

Just from looking back at this I learned something interesting about myself. Several things actually. I learned that the root of a lot of my major insecurities now could have possibly stemmed from my first attempt at being validated to the inevitable rejection that led me to believe that I am undesirable. I learned that it is an awesome trait to be picky about the people you let into your life, because you are not defined by what other people may think of you. 

Looking back at this experience made me think about the significance of such memorable yet minuscule events from my youth.  

What are some memories that you have that have shaped you into the person you are today? 

[sixpenceee]

3 drunk gentlemen agree on killing me over my sandwich

Creepy encounter by reddit user u/lil_chilty

Let me just clarify what this is not. This is not the story of my friend lying to me for five years. This is not your run-of-the-mill case of cat-fishing, which I had suspected at first. This is something much bigger, and after today I’m genuinely scared for his life, as well as mine.

This friend, let’s call him Noah, was never great with girls. He’s kind of a “nice guy”, super awkward, and the only reason we were close for so long is because I came out to him as a lesbian sometime in 9th grade. Otherwise, there’s no doubt he would have tried to pursue me romantically. He was pretty desperate for love, up until when we were in our early twenties, five-ish years ago, before he met “her”.

I feel like it means nothing to say he was big into gaming, because who isn’t nowadays? Specifically, he was into these like...Facebook fantasy games. I don’t even know what they are exactly. I think they’re like shit quality RPGs that people play for free if they can’t afford to subscribe to World of Warcraft. I used to get game requests from him every day, luckily you can just block those so I did.

Anyway, this one game he used to play had a chat function which a lot of people use to meet people. It’s really not that weird; I have other friends that have met hookups in a similar fashion. I was actually pretty happy for him when he told me about this girl; I’ll call her Clara. At least he had someone to talk to, even though the girl was from Ohio which is about a 7 hour drive from us.

The red flags started popping up pretty early, though. Out of curiosity, I looked at Clara’s Facebook profile and it was immediately suspicious to me. It’s not like she seemed out of his league or anything. It looked like the kind of girl he would date. Choppy purple pixie cut, face piercings, a collarbone tattoo of a Pokeball, a light dusting of acne on her pale skin. Anime convention type of girl. Definitely his type.

What got me was, she uploaded a number of pictures with her in it, but there were no tags for any of the other people in the photos. They had also been uploaded all at the same time. Most of the friends she had, and the only likes/comments on her pictures and posts were...well, guys that seemed to have an intimate relationship with her. A lot of comments like “There’s my beautiful girl“, a lot of flirting with that dumbass “:3” face. Nothing to do with the occasion, or the other people in the picture. They were all about her.

Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. Did I make him dig his heels in further? I was just looking out for him and his heart, I guess. I pointed this out to Noah, but he was having none of it. He showed me that all of the comments dated back to before they started talking, and there was no overlap, either. He said there was no way this girl would cheat on him, or anyone, that she was really sweet, just flirty, and truly loved him. I mentioned the other stuff that was weird, but he snapped back that I was just looking for things to not like about her and being over-protective. He was pretty upset.

My next thought was that maybe this was a profile for cheating. Like, she was with someone but she made this in order to lure men into getting with her on the side. Seems like something people do. I told my then girlfriend/current wife about it and she suggested reverse image searching a few of her photos to see if they showed up anywhere else.

Besides Clara’s profile, all the photos traced back to social media accounts of someone named Erica from Ft. Lauderdale. But when I went to click on the links it came up as “This page does not exist”, like she had deleted everything. Even though Noah was mad at me for trying to talk some sense into him, I gave it one last shot. I texted him about what I had found, hoping that this would convince him that something was up.

He didn’t say anything for a day or so. Then, he sent me a novel to explain why it wasn’t weird at all and how over the line I was. Apparently, Clara had a very abusive ex-boyfriend who was stalking her, so she had to legally change her name, move away, and basically delete her old profiles off the internet. Fearing that he might be able to find her somehow through mutual friends, she decided not to add anyone on her new Facebook that she actually knew in real life.

She was obsessed with those stupid games, too. And she wanted to meet people, especially romantic prospects, since she was pretty lonely. The pictures were to show her online friends what she looked like, and to prove that she hung out with other people at some point and wasn’t just a hermit with no life or social skills.

He told me that he didn’t appreciate me prying into their relationship, and that he had told Clara about what I said and she didn’t want me to talk to him anymore, and he had agreed to it. The last thing he said to me was “Just in case you’re still hung up on this, here’s a picture of us Facetiming.” Sure enough, the screenshot showed him video chatting with the girl from the profile. Same hair, same face piercings, same tattoo. She looked normal, just kind of tired. Before I could say anything or apologize, he blocked me.

And that was it for a while. I wasn’t impressed with how defensive and shitty he had been, and although I figured she was probably using him in some way, I just let it be. He blocked me in every way he possibly could, anyway, pretty much every form of communication. So did Clara, so I couldn’t see her Facebook page anymore. I had my own things going on, so I just moved past it. I moved away, got a job, got married, and all was well.

We grew up in a small town, so one day when I went back to visit a few months ago, I ran into his mother at the one grocery store we have. We chatted for a while about how things were going with me, and she seemed  very friendly and happy. Then, I asked her about Noah.

Her entire expression changed. She looked so sad. She told me that the same year we had our falling out, Noah decided on a whim to quit his job and go live with Clara somehwere in Ohio, about 7 hours away, and he never came back. He was upset that his mom had been so disapproving of this, so he also blocked her in any way possible, and only communicated with an occasional brief e-mail from time to time to tell her how he was doing. She blamed herself for being too overbearing. He wouldn’t even tell her their address because he was afraid she would try to come find them.

I felt really bad for her. I almost ran away from home in high school, because my parents didn’t approve of me being gay. But once they realized I was serious about leaving they said they could work past it as long as it meant I was home. I knew this wasn’t exactly the same thing, but it was clear she was pretty hurt.

I asked her for his e-mail, thinking maybe I could try to reach out to him. Before I fell asleep, I typed up and sent an e-mail telling him I was sorry for being so presumptuous, that I hoped he and Clara were happy, and that he should consider visiting home sometime.

The next day, to my surprise, I got an e-mail back from him. This is what it said:

Dear lilchilty,

Thanks for reaching out to me after all this time. Clara and I are doing very well. I would come back to Virginia, but I just have too much going on here. You know how it is! But do tell my mom that I’m thinking about her. I hope that life is treating you well.

Best, Noah

I felt a little bit of closure, I guess. At least he was happy. It seemed strange that he had nothing else to say, although perhaps Clara still harbored some bitterness towards me, and he didn’t want to test that. That was an acceptable conclusion for me.

Until today.

My wife travels a lot. Usually she winds up in Texas, but this week she had to fly out to a small city about an hour away from Columbus, Ohio. She’s mostly been sending me “I miss you” texts and pictures of her doing touristy things, but today she sent me something that made my blood run cold.

It was a mugshot of a woman, severely abused and emaciated, with most of her teeth and half of her hair gone. My wife told me it had appeared on the local news on TV and she immediately recognized some of the facial features...as well as the Pokeball tattoo on her collarbone. It’s Clara.

After panicking for a straight minute, I read the full story. Apparently they found her walking through the streets early this morning, looking like she had just been beaten badly. She was in shock and mumbling random things and sobbing. The police took her in immediately, but they couldn’t get any useful information from her. She seemed to have suffered from extreme trauma, or had taken illicit drugs, either way she couldn’t form coherent sentences. Identifying her had also been futile; her fingers had been severely burned so they can’t trace her fingerprints.

I immediately contacted the police with everything I knew and they said they’re going to be launching a full-scale investigation. It will have to be as discreet as possible, though, for fear that the perpetrators will go to extreme measures to cover up their crimes or even flee from the area. They even took down all the media coverage right after I called.

They’ve offered to fly me and Noah’s mother out there so they can talk to us in person, since we’re the only people who seem to know much about it. I realize there’s no going back, and I have to go, but I am absolutely horrified of whatever is behind this.

I got a call about an hour ago, from the police station. They told me that Clara was still in pretty bad shape, and she still couldn’t answer their questions. But they did say that she kept repeating the same thing, over and over and over...

“My name is Erica.”

Part 2