#But I’m sure you wouldn’t think it’s cool if the local public school was teaching your kids catholicism

[ffcrazy15]

So apparently that whole “you must have a Bible in the public school classrooms” thing in Oklahoma is being done by using state money to buy the $60 Trump Bible.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: simony.

[187days]

Day One Hundred Seventeen

Today was a bit of a rollercoaster day: lots of ups, but also some downs.

In World, I taught the first of a series of lessons on Hinduism and Buddhism: students shared what they already knew about both religions, read an article about their origins and teachings, and then focused in specifically on Hinduism by watching a video about the day in the life of a Hindu priest. In APGOV, my students worked on their SCOTUS case projects, and I gave feedback as needed. Meantime, my independent study student, who does his work during that same block, had a Google Meet with the state rep he’s been working with, and then he and I had a chat about the work he’s done on education policy (research related specific bills, observing a public hearing in Concord, etc...). We also talked about the next thing he wants to focus on: funding for Fish and Game, and more specifically for search and rescue efforts (the aforementioned state rep is drafting a bill pertaining to this).

So it’s all really cool to teach. Even better: my students were engaged, their work was well done, and they asked some terrific questions. That’s definitely an up.

I also made some progress with a ninth grader who just returned from a week of OSS. I told him I was glad to see him when he arrived, and got him squared away for class, which I think made a world of difference to him. Maybe he was worried that he wouldn’t be welcomed back, or something along those lines, I’m not sure. I just know his attitude was really positive from then on out. When I asked him to come see me during a flex or another time so I could help him get caught up, he said he would, but, more importantly, he was smiling and said thank you. That might seem like no big deal, but, trust me, it’s a big deal. So that’s also an up.

The down? Another of my students was just given on OSS. And it’s not that I think that it’s an unfair punishment, or have deep philosophical objections to out-of-school suspensions; I just know it’ll be a struggle for him to recover academically (yes, students can access their work on Classroom and keep up that way while they’re not in school, but can doesn’t always mean will).

But there was another up outside of the regular school day. Most of my GOV students, and my independent study student, came to observe the local deliberative session this evening. I was obviously there as a member of the voting public, but I was also teaching through it, explaining the debate procedures and answering questions. The closure of one of the elementary schools was being discussed, at one point, and it got a little heated, but people were generally polite and respectful. A lot folks told me they were happy to see my students there, which was great. 

The other down? It’s way past my bedtime now! Heh.

[head-full-of-things]

‘With Great Power...’ teaser, a secret santa gift

Hey guys! I'm in @bazwillendinflames LIS2 Secret Santa.

I got the amazing Stef aka @ladyofthecreed. Your request was for wholesome Daniel and Sean on the road to Karen's comminity after ep 4, but I saw how sad you were after ep 5 and Redemption so I wanted to cheer you up, as well as all of us who got it, with something more fun.  Of course it started as fun and then I actually started writing and it also made me cry haha

The basic premise is 16 year old Daniel post Redemption, who decided to use his powers for good and becomes the superhero of Beaver Creek! This is a scene, a sneak peek if you will, from the fic. I'm posting the sneak peek here for you guys, and when the full fic comes up I'll post it here as well as on AO3.

And @bazwillendinflames thank you so much for organizing this! It's a really cool activity for the fandom. Oh and for giving me a gift fic of course

I hope you'll like it 😊

Note - before this scene Daniel saves his classmate with his powers.

-----

It was the longest, most confusing three days of Daniel’s life, as he had to wait until Tuesday, which is visitation day, to finally talk to Sean and tell him what happened. He spent them doing what he usually did—schoolwork, hanging out with Chris (who kept asking him to repeat every detail of what happened, writing it all down in his notes app), and helping his grandparents. But while usually it was more than enough to fill his days, now he found it couldn’t calm this feeling that was threatening to blow up inside of him. He saved Jason’s life. This brought him back to when he was thirteen at that school trip, when he lifted the school bus enough for it to get away from that cliff. It’s strange, when he first got these powers, on the run with Sean, he used to thinking about them as mostly as a way to destroy or attack. Sure, in his time in Haven Point Lisbeth told him it was a gift, that he was meant to do good in the world, but that woman was badshit crazy so it doesn’t really count. And after he got back to Beaver Creek, he did his best to hide them. But now he used them for good, and he really liked this feeling. 

So yeah, he couldn’t wait to tell Sean, but he also felt terrible fear washing over him every time he thought about actually telling him. How is he supposed to just go there and say: ’Hi bro, remember how you sacrificed the best years of your life so that I wouldn’t be in trouble with the law? Well funny story…’

And so he waited for Tuesday to come but also hoped it’d never come.

Time worked as usual though. The day arrived, and Daniel once again took the bus to prison. When he met Sean he kept quiet. Sean didn’t seem to notice his nervousness though, they spoke for a few minutes, about Daniel’s school life and how the big test went. Then Sean told him a joke that he heard from his cell mate Carl four days ago. He kept laughing as he was trying to tell it. Daniel thought that still laughing about a joke four days later seemed like too much. But who knows, maybe he was just too stressed at the moment to appreciate it.

He sneaked a look at the guard, who again was completely immersed in his game on the phone and not paying attention to anything that went on in front of him. This was his shot. He leaned closer to Sean and spoke quietly: “Listen, I gotta tell you something.”

Sean’s eyes lifted. “Yeah?”

He told him the events of what happened, and as he did a big smile rose on Sean’s face. Daniel expected shock or maybe fear from him, but certainty not the amused look he gave him.

“Wait… You don’t look surprised.”

“Well, we had a TV hour at the cafeteria. ’Local teen saved under mysterious circumstances. Only clue to the identity of his saviour is a drawing of a wolf found at scene.’ Dude that shot with the drawing on the floor was on loop the whole day,” he said with a laugh, keeping his voice low.

Daniel grimaced. “Oh man. So why didn’t you tell me you knew? Let me talk about the Algebra test for an hour like an idiot.”

“Look I just… Didn’t want you to feel you have to tell me. It’s your superpower after all. You’re grown now, and I know I’m not that much a main figure in your life anymore, with me being here, and....”

He frowned. “Don’t. Say. That. Ever. Do you hear me? We’re the wolf brothers remember? It’s forever. Plus you know that if it wasn’t for your help with my power back then, I wouldn’t have a clue how to control them in the first place.”

Sean gave him half a smile.

He smiled too. But he had to ask him a question, and he did, barely getting the words out of his mouth. “Sean, are you disappointed at me?”

Sean’s eyebrows went up. “What? Why?”

“I mean, you practically gave up everything in order for me to have a normal life, and here I am putting it all in danger. I mean look at what happened, I wasn’t careful enough and now I’m all over the news.”

“Why would I be? This is the most publicity a drawing of mine ever got,” he laughed, but stopped when he saw Daniel’s very not amused face. “I’m not disappointed of you Daniel, I’m proud, because you put your secret in risk to protect someone who needed help. You’re a good person.”

He let out the air he was holding.

“You know, when we were on the run and I found out you had this crazy power, I have to say I was terrified. Not of you, but… Of the responsibility, I guess. Remember when you took that hula doll from Brody? I understood then that you were looking to me on how to behave. I was so busy with keeping you alive and well taken care of that I didn’t even realise that with Dad gone, I also need to teach you those kinds of things. And with the… Added flavor of you having a power that could blow up anything in the thirty feet radius, I knew that if I fucked that up, it would have bigger consequences than when other people do a bad job raising their kids. But at the end of the day, I did a pretty good job if I can say so myself.” He smiled and let a small laugh. “And what you did yesterday? It just proves that to me even more. And it also proves to me that I made the right choice that day… At the border.”

That day at the border they almost never spoke about it, and when they did Sean always said it in a hushed, soft tone. Just hearing these words brought back the feeling—the heat on his skin from the bright sun, and the tears on his face. The sound of the sirens that didn’t fucking stop to let them think, or say goodbye properly. And more than anything, the great love he felt for Sean, that his body was almost too small to contain.

It was their last moment together alone, without an annoying person standing a few meters from them to make sure they don’t get too close. 

Sean gave up everything for him, and hearing that he doesn’t regret it… Shit he didn’t realize how much he needed to hear it until now. He felt tears stuck in his throat as he said “All this time I was so afraid Sean, that you…”

“Shh, it’s ok,” Sean said. They leaned forward so that their foreheads touched, and stayed like this for a while. While still being like this, Sean continued speaking softly, making sure the guard still doesn’t hear them. “Daniel I need you to know, that I didn’t do this for you to have a normal life. I did it for you to have your life. I knew you needed a family, a stable environment and school. A friend like Chris. I wanted you to not have to fight anymore, or use your power for me or anyone else. Only if you do it by your own choice.”

He nodded, lifting his head to look at Sean with tears in his eyes.

“I also told you that day to remember who you are. Remember? So don’t try to be what Grandma wants you to be. Don’t even try to be what I want you to be, ok enano? Be yourself.”

He let out a bitter chuckle. “I’m not even sure I know who that is anymore.”

Sean looked him straight in the eyes. “Not anymore. Yet.” When they noticed that the guard saw them being so close and lifted his sight from his phone to watch what they’re doing they separated, Sean’s sending a hand to ruffle Daniel’s hair a bit as he pulled away.

“You guys got 5 more minutes!” the guard called, and they both sighed. There was something else that he had to tell Sean, so he had to say it now. “Sean, I think I liked it. Using my…”—He had to be careful in what he says now—”Skills for good. I want to do it again.” Now that he said that he realised that, In a way, he knew this since the moment he saved Jason, or maybe somehow all these years in Beaver Creek.

Sean leaned forward. “Alright, what do you want to do then?”

“Well I’ve been thinking, maybe I could take a tour around the town once in a while, see if anybody needs help. And if they do, help them in a sneaky way so they won’t see me.”

“Like superhero patrol?” ??

He laughed. “Yeah, or something like that.” He thought about it for a second. “Man, Chris is going to freak out when he hears this. But imagine if Grandma finds out, she won’t let me leave the room for maybe… A whole year.” 

“Don’t worry, it was pretty easy for me because I know about your powers. You can count on one finger really the amount of people who even know about your power,  not to mention that you live here. As long as it stays like that you’re safe. Just… Promise me that whatever superhero shenanigans you’re doing, you’ll be more careful from now on, alright?”

They’ve had their share of promises between them on the year of their journey to Mexico. Every promise Sean made to him he tried to keep, so Daniel was going to take this promise seriously. He nodded. “I promise.”

They stood up and hugged, Daniel once again trying to take as much of Sean as he can, and as Sean went back to his cell, being led by the guard, he turned around and told him “I believe in you enano. I love you.”

“Love you bro,” he yelled back.

On his way out of the facility the sky was black but full of stars. Grandma always said that you can see the stars here in a way you simply can’t in the big city.  Karen said it was true, but you can see a lot more in the desert. But today Daniel focused on something else. As the bus got to the station and he took a seat, he spent the whole ride smiling and looking at the distant lights that he knew came from Beaver Creek, the town he was going to protect.

[vaxreed]

Convin, 21 🤗

Thanks for the ask!!! Love you mon!!! Hope youlike this!

Convin + Best Friends Sibling

Tw: mentions of abuse, underage drinking.

Send me a prompt if you’re okay with being patient++++

Gavin had met Richard at the park when they werenothing but children scraping their knees on the pavement and playing in thedirt. Home life wasn’t the best and the park was the only safe place he couldtake refuge in. It also helped that it was in public and his family would neverrisk appearance to let out their anger and frustration. It was his favoriteplace in the world. The swings were his spot. Everyone knew that. He made sureeveryone knew that.

So, when he went to go sit in his swingand found some polished up kid sitting there instead he saw red. Feelings andbeing able to handle them was something he wasn’t good at. If someone was angeryou find the closest person and you let them know how angry you were. It’s howthings were done at home.

“Hey! Get off my swing!” tiny fistsballed at his side, face red with anger. The other boy had blue eyes thatpeered into his very soul, eyes that seemed much too old for his soft face.Gavin was thrown off by the lack of reaction.

“Didn’t you hear me?! Get off!” hegets closer hand wrapping around the chain of the swing.

“What’s wrong with the swing next tome?” He tilts his head to the side.

“That isn’t my swing!” Nothing everbelonged to him, it was Eli’s first and his leftovers were given to him. Thiswas the one thing he had ownership over. Tears threatened to spill from theanger of everything accumulating.

“Can I still swing next to you if Imove?” the boy asks. No one ever wants to swing with him, especially whenhe tries to fight them. They mostly run away when they see him. Not that hegives them much reason to stay. He’s not nice or fun.  

“Why would you want to?”

“I still want to swing, and I don’t haveany friends. You seem angry but mostly sad. Like me.”

Gavin didn’t know what to say just stared at himas the boy moved swings. Suddenly, the swing doesn’t seem so important.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

“G-Gavin.” finding it difficult tospeak.

“Call me, Nines.”

[mobile readers, beware keep reading line]

It started from there. Years later they wouldstill be best friends. He found out later on that Nines was a foster kid thatwas spending time with a decent enough family. Nines was one of the lucky fewwho was adopted and at 13 would be moving into his new family’s house.

Gavin spent a lot of time at their house afterthat. Amanda seemed nice enough, Nines seemed indifferent towards her mostlygrateful to have space of his own and Amanda’s house had plenty of room.

Amanda had adopted another boy years earlier whoeerily resembled Nines. Someone 4 years older than they were. Her perfectlittle heir she groomed herself and would no doubt do the same with Nines. Shewas smart and needed a backup plan in case he failed, which is why Nines washere.

It was creepy how identical they looked; Ninesdidn’t see the similarities. He didn’t see him around at first. Always in classor tutoring. He and Nines were just hanging out in his new room. It hadeverything he could ever want and more books than he could possibly read butwas still expected to.

They were talking about the new Power Rangersepisode that had come out and brought out of the conversation by a faint knockon the door. They turned and Gavin was instantly smitten by the visitor. Warmbrown eyes that he found himself lost in, cute moles that contrasted his paleskin and nicely kept hair.

Nines had met Connor before, but they never hadmuch to say to one another. Nines was soft spoken, while Connor was alreadytrained to have nice small talk that Nines wasn’t receptive to.

“I don’t speak bullshit.” when heasked how he liked his room. He was smart enough not to speak like that infront of Amanda, but Gavin was so proud of his best friend.

“What?” is all Nines said to the olderteen in the doorway, hostility practically oozing off him.

“Amanda wanted me to check how you’redoing, do you need anything?” a smile brighter than the sun, and Gavin wasmelting. Connor’s eyes fell on him and Gavin’s face felt hot.

“Oh, I’m sorry! You’re with a guest. Isthis a friend of yours? Hello, I’m Connor, I suppose I’m Richard’s newsibling.”

Nines’ frowned at this Gavin couldn’t take hiseyes off him. Nines told him everything was fine and he if could kindly getback to speaking with his best friend. Connor left with a smile and a wave, hispolite smile turning sad when he went out of sight.

“Holy shit your new brother is hot.”Gavin finally said after he finished gaping.

“He’s not my brother, we just happened tolive in the same house.”

They dropped it and went back to discussing thevillain for this episode.

More years would pass, both at the tender age of18 they continued to hang out as much as possible. Nines got into a prestigiousuniversity where Amanda just happens to teach at. It wasn’t far, but Nineswould be busy with his studies afterwards and wouldn’t have much time to spendwith him. Gavin would also be furthering his education at the local communitycollege and the police academy after that. This was a year away and werespending as much time as they could together.

They went to a party together thrown by Gavin’sclose friend Tina a farewell party for those who are going out of state forcollege and celebrating the end of the school year.

Nines wasn’t one for parties but still wentbecause Gavin liked going. The drinks were free and so was the fun. One drinkturns into two and he loses count after the 5th. He struggles to get to thebathroom sitting next to Nines in the hall. Nines has had a few too many aswell and is rambling on about the intricacies of glow in the dark stickers andhow they are the foundation of America.

He remembers someone shaking him awake and peersinto warm eyes the same color as the whiskey that burned down his throatearlier. He struggles to keep his vision right.

“Connor?”

Nines flicks his eyes up, his face lookingconcerned.

“Connor? What’s wrong?” the years having cooleddown his relationship with someone he now considered his older brother.

“Amanda is coming home tomorrow morning,her meeting was cancelled, and she cannot see you in this state, Richard.”

Nines is in more control of his body than Gavinis and has no problem lifting himself off the floor. Shit how much did he haveto drink? He struggled to stand.

“You lightweight.” Nines huffed athim.

He felt something swoop under his legs and hisstomach dropped as he was lifted into the air bridal style.

“I’ve got you, Gavin.” his wordshoneyed and so sincere. Gavin was thankful for his flushed cheeks his head restingagainst his chest. He felt so warm, so soft. He felt at peace in his arms. Hiseyes cracked open and sees the back of the passenger seat of Connor’s car. Thensees his hands grabbing fistfuls of grass as he vomits directly onto the frontlawn. When he is done, he is scooped back up and returned to the car until theyreturned to the large house.

He is guided to the bathroom although he knowsthis house like the back of his hand. He’s here so often, it might as well behome. His family didn’t give a shit where he was, and they were probablythankful he wasn’t there to bother them.

Nines was like a brother to him. He has toremember that when talking about Connor, his feelings for him were more thanthe disdain he showed in front of Nines as an act of solidarity.

The late-night conversations they have in thekitchen are something he treasures just as fondly as the time he spends withNines.

“You must be very close friends withRichard if he lets you come and go into his space as you please.” Connortells him while they share a pint of ice cream, passing it back and forth.

“Nines may seem like a bastard, but onceyou get to know him, well, he’s still a bastard.”

They both let out a small laugh.

“But I couldn’t ask for a better friend. He’simportant to me. My best friend.” he confessed.

A sad smile tugged on Connor’s face. Connor alwayslooked a little sad, it was always lurking behind his eyes. He’s met Amanda andhas heard Nines talk to him about how much pressure she puts on him to succeed.All the classes and extracurriculars that will put him on the path to take overher legacy when she’s gone. He wonders how it must have been for Connor allalone.   

“I wish I knew what to do. He hates me andI don’t know why. I know the word brother bothers him, but…. I’ve alwayswanted a brother. Someone who knows what it’s like to have your future alreadydecided for you. I don’t want to compete with him. I want to get to knowhim.”

Gavin was silent for a moment, not knowing whatto say. He knows he’s heard Nines vent about Connor. He thinks he’s too nice,spineless. That he will learn from his mistakes and be superior when it comesto who Amanda favors. Nines doesn’t care about the praise he just wants to bethe best.

“I’ll say this. Stop trying so hard. Henotices it. Act like you don’t even know him it’ll drive him up the wall. Hewants competition, give him a good show. Nothing cutthroat, but enough to piquehis interest. He’s kinda of a weird guy, but he’ll have your back when you earnit the right way.”

Connor seemed like he was mentally taking notesand had some time to process the information. The smile that came from thegratitude left Gavin flustered.

“Thank you for listening. I know it isn’tyour business but you’re easy to talk to when you’re not with him.” knowing heacts a bit cold when Nines is around.

Gavin huffs. "Don’t tell Nines I saidanything nice about him or I’ll never hear the end of it.” Connorchuckles. The truth is that while he wanted to stop seeing Connor so sad, hewanted Nines to have an older brother who actually gave a shit about him. Heand Eli weren’t exactly close. He saw Nines more than he did Eli and it wasbetter this way. Having someone look after him would be good for both of them. 

“My lips are sealed.” he promised.

Now here he was 2 years after that conversation,face in the toilet as he’s spilling his guts while Connor’s rubs his back.Nines waiting with a glass of water and a worried expression on his face whilehe waits for his friend to finish.  

He can’t hear much aside from his own purgingbut between his breaks he makes out a few sentences.

“Don’t lead him on. You hurt him and Iwon’t hesitate to get rid of you for good.”

Connor’s response is cut off by Gavin’s puking.He is put to bed and wakes up with the worst hangover ever. Connor has goneback to his dorm by the next morning.

After Nines goes to college and is living at thedorm, Gavin doesn’t come around much. Not that he can, training to be a policeofficer is hard work and he’s surprised he has time for anything. The yearspass and he only has lunch with Nines once a month and the occasional text.Things are nice, he remembers growing up with him fondly and wishes him well asthey live their own lives. His thoughts always go back to Connor and their late-nightconversations. He wonders what would happen if he were to see him at this age.Was his young infatuation clouded by nostalgia? He didn’t know.

Nines invites him to the Holiday dinner. They’venever actually celebrated but having some photos for their social media wouldmake it all the better for them. Gavin hasn’t stepped foot in their house inyears and feels a certain tangle in his stomach as he stands at the front door,bottle of wine in hand as he waits for someone to answer.

The door opens and he is met with those kindbrown eyes that swallow him whole. A genuine smile as he is spotted.

“Gavin! Nines told me you would be havingdinner with us. Come in.” he steps aside to let Gavin in. Gavin’s alwayshad scars on him, just the result of growing up the way he did, but the onestretched across the bridge of his nose was new and suddenly felt an itch ofinsecurity as he noticed no scars on Connor’s flawless skin.  

Connor walked and talked with him. He’s muchmore energetic than he was before, he seems happy and Gavin likes seeing himthis way. Being away from this place and Amanda’s hold works wonders it seems.

“Richard is running late and Amanda went topick up the food, so I’m afraid you’re stuck with me entertaining you fornow.” Connor confesses in an apologetic tone.

“Guess I have to leave, huh?” he jokesand the corners of Connor’s eyes crinkle as he laughs.

They walk into the kitchen, as they did allthose years ago, it felt familiar. They caught up about what they’ve been upto. Gavin’s time at the academy and his first year as detective. Connor and histeaching position at another university away from Amanda and his work with anonprofit that works with foster youth.

They ended up sitting on the counter inches apartsharing a pint of gelato Amanda had meant for dessert.  

“Can I ask you something, Gavin?”

“It’s gonna cost ya.” he replies.

“Will another bite of this gelatosuffice?”

Gavin pretends to think it over.

“Sure, what’s up?” as he snatches thepint back taking the payment into his mouth.

“I enjoy your company. I’ve enjoyed yourcompany for many years now. Ever since you took the time to tell me how toconnect with Nines. I have found a true friend in him and it wouldn’t have beenpossible without you. But…I figured our age difference was inappropriate topursue anything romantic but now that we’re older. I was wondering if—”

Gavin cuts his rambling off with a stickystrawberry flavored kiss. It’s sloppy and poorly timed but it’s perfect. Connorkisses him back with fervor running a hand through Gavin’s thick locks of darkhair. All the tension and feelings that have built up over the years come outas a noise that rips out of Gavin’s throat. They part after a few moments.

“You were takin’ too long to get to thepoint. Figured I save us a few months.” pressing their foreheads together,Connor chuckles.

“You were always one to go headfirstwithout thinking.”

“You think enough for the both of us. Plus,I’ve been wanting to do that for a while too.”

“Why wait any longer?” before Connorpulls him into another kiss. Gavin wraps his arms around his neck and pulls himcloser. It begins to snow outside.

 ++++

Bonus/Scrapped Scene:

Tw: Drug use

Gavin brought the lighter close to the joint inhis hand lighting the end and sucking in as much smoke as he could. This wastheir second one rolled, and Nines was already sprawled on the couch inside hisroom. This would be the last time they could do this before they needed to getclean for their respective futures.

“Where are my cookies?” Gavin asked,slowly tasting the words in his mouth.

Nines languidly rose his hand in the air anddidn’t say anything.

“Nines!” Gavin said louder and Ninesshot up from the bed.

“They’re downstairs.” he says while hestands and leaves without a word. Nines was always weird when high. Gavin satthere staring at the ceiling as smoke filled the room. Amanda was away at aconference and Connor was already doing his own thing in life, he visits everyonce in a while, mostly when Amanda requests his presence.

He blinks slowly, on the cusp of sleep as helets the drug take him. Nines hasn’t been back in a while. He hears the dooropen but thinks nothing of it.

An hour later and a box of cookies and chipsgone the two are placed in front of the T.V playing video games and doing anawful job of winning.

The beep of a car locking brought them both oftheir drug induced hazes. Nines set the controller down and walked through thesmoky room to peer out the window.

“Shit.” he muttered out.

“Is it Amanda?”

“Might as well be. It’s Connor and he’s asnitch.” Nines went to turn on the fan and open the window as he spritzes theroom with Febreze, desperately trying to hide all evidence of all theiractivities.

Gavin rushes to find the eyedrops Nines kept inhis desk drawer for situations just like these. The moments pass so slowly thepanic was dulled by the drugs. He’s never met Connor. Only seen photos andheard Nines talk about him. They looked alike, nothing special. He lived indorms at the university he attended which didn’t make sense since it was only30 minutes away, but Nines told him that he would do the same next year. Thismassive house would be empty.

He heard footsteps coming up the stairs and theyhad done all they could. They went back to playing until a faint knock came atthe door.

“Richard.” a firm voice, a bit higher thanNines, came through the other side of the door.

“I’m busy.” Nines tried to stall for as long aspossible while the small fan did it’s best to propel the smoke out of the room.

“Richard, open the door.” no doubt he couldsmell what was going on in here.

“You’re breaking up. I’ll call you back later.”Nines continued to try to get Connor to leave. Gavin tried to hide his snickersby bringing a hand over his mouth. Nines hits him on the shoulder mouthing himto shut up.

Connor made no attempt to leave. Nines gave inand unlocked the door and flung it open immediately going back to his game.Connor stepped into the room his nose wrinkling at the smell.

Gavin didn’t bother taking his eyes off the gameuntil they lost and then they were drawn to Connor.

His eyes widened at the sight of him. He was slendererthan Nines was with perfectly styled hair and moles that peppered his flawlessskin. His cheeks flushed as he took in the sight of his disappointed frown andstraight poster. The two brothers started arguing about something, but Gavinwas content with just watching the way Connor’s lips curves and his narrow hipsswung.

The man spoke with his perfectly manicured handsexpressing his frustration with Nines’ behavior. His rolled-up sleeves accentedhis strong forearms and loosened tie exposed his throat. Eventually, he leftwhen there was nothing else left to be said.

Nines’ attention went back to him and looked athim in worry as he noticed the blank and open mouth expression on his face.

“Are you okay? Are you having a bad trip?”

“Holy shit, Nines. Why didn’t you warn me thatyour brother was hot I just stood there lookin’ like a dumbass!”

“Granted, you always look like that.” and it wasGavin’s turn to hit Nines.

[poke-trainer-tsuki]

Pokémon Headcanon Meme from @memeingovermemes

Hi there! My name’s Tsuki and I’m from Kalos! I figured I would just answer all of these as my introduction to you all!

☀️ : Who is your character’s partner Pokémon? Do they prefer to stay outside of their Pokéball? What’s their dynamic with their trainer?

Back home, my partner was (and still is) Pumpkaboo! When I was around 9, my mother and I were taking a walk and came across a lone Pumpkaboo on our normal route in the local forest. I got so excited and my mother helped me catch her and ever since, we have been best friends! She is shy like me and really only likes to stay out of her Pokéball when we are at home or somewhere familiar to her. She’s EXTREMELY sweet, but very protective of me since we’ve been together for what feels like forever.

🌗 : Does your character have a favourite Pokéball? Which ones do they use the least?

My favorite Pokéball would have to be the Moon ball. I remember the first time I ever saw one, and immediately fell in love. Space has always been super interesting to me and seeing a ball with the moon on it, just made me so happy and excited. I once tried to be slick and try to catch an Umbreon in a Moon ball. I learned VERY quickly that it wasn’t going to work. I still managed to catch the Umbreon that day though so I wasn’t too sad. The ball I use least is probably the Luxury ball or the apricorn balls. Ones super expensive and the others are SUPER rare.

💾 : What is your character’s Pokémon team? Any Pokémon they don’t  have currently in their team (in their PC Box or elswhere)?

As of right now while traveling through the Galar region, my team consists of, a “Gigantamax” (I think that’s what they called it) Corviknight, My Pumpkaboo, Cinderace, Silvally (Whom I caught as Type Null while traveling through Alola), Flapple, and Zacian. I think back home I caught maybe only 50 Kalos originating Pokémon and MAYBE 40 Alolan Pokémon. In Galar, I have completed my Pokédex and then some!

😀 : Describe one of your character’s relationships with their Pokémon.

My relationship with my Pumpkaboo has such a different dynamic than my other Pokémon. She’s basically my sister at this point and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I remember when I was little, I was extremely afraid of the dark and honestly I still kind of am, but she would act as my nightlight and make sure nothing scared me at night. Most people think that all ghost Pokémon give you nightmares, and while some do, she has never done that to me.

👥 : Does your character travel with anyone aside from their Pokémon?

So far during my time in Galar, I’ve been traveling alongside my friend “Panda”! He’s learning as much as he can so he can officially be a professor one day so any time I have a question, he’s right there to answer to the best of his ability! Right now, he’s teaching me the ins and outs of putting together a great competitive team.

♠️ : Does your character specialize in a Pokémon type or do their types vary? Do they pay much attention to type match-ups?

I don’t really specialize in any certain type of Pokémon. Though I do prefer having a great speed stat so I am able to move first (unless the opposing trainer uses a priority move). I do my best at remembering type match ups. When Pokémon become dual types is when I have the most trouble though.

🗻 : What type of journey is your character on? Are they tackling the Pokémon League, engaging in contests, on researching endeavors, a ranger scouting for danger? Or do they have a more ‘normal’ occupation? What type of life do they lead?

I recently decided to take part in the Galar Gym Challenge. I am definitely nervous doing these challenges, but I’ve been learning so much from each and every gym leader here! Back home, I was more of a breeder/groomer in my spare time.

🌟: Has your character met any Legendary Pokémon before? If so, what were the encounters like? Do they have any Legendary Pokémon on their team? If not, do they believe in Legendary Pokémon?

I have only met two Legendary Pokémon so far. In Alola, it was Type Null whom I managed to evolve into Silvally while in Galar, and Zacian in Galar. Both encounters were extremely scary and nerve wracking to me. It took so much patience and effort to get Type Null to trust me back then, but I don’t regret it one bit. Even now, there are days where he has his moments of distrust, but I always manage to calm him down and remind him that I’m not here to hurt him. He prefers to sleep near me at night as well just like Pumpkaboo does and honestly I wouldn’t have it any other way. Zacian on the other hand acts like a guard dog at night and if something is wrong he alerts Silvally before waking me up. It’s definitely a weight off my mothers shoulders knowing I’m being protected so well though.

🍼 : Are there any Pokémon your character has difficulty handling? Are there any they find easiest to raise?

Right now, Silvally has been a little hardheaded and doesn’t listen to me sometimes. He hasn’t really been aggressive or anything, but I might have to take him to a professor to get him checked out because I’m worried something’s wrong. As much as I love Nurse Joy, I don’t think she has the knowledge on him in that regard.

🐤 : Does your character use Daycares? Or do they manage all the training and caretaking themselves?

I do my absolute best to take care of my Pokémon myself. I also prefer to oversee my Pokémon when it’s mating season as well. You learn a lot about them when you’re the one in charge and I love learning!

🕶 : Are there ‘troublemaking’ Pokémon on your character’s team? If so, how do they tackle these troubles?

I don’t think I’ve ever really had a troublemaker on my team except MAYBE Mimikyu when he’s having a bad day. But usually when that happens, I take him out for some “alone time” with me and I treat him to special poké-treats and playtime.

🥘 : Is your character any good at making Poffins?

I’d say I’m pretty good at it! Definitely not the best, but my Pokémon seem to enjoy the ones I make!

🎊 : If your character takes part in contests, what category is their favourite? What are the best at? What are they worst at?

Oh gosh. I’ve tried my hand at contests...they definitely aren’t for me. I’ll just keep to making Poké-treats and grooming my Pokémon.

📱 : How full is your character’s Pokedex?

I haven’t completed my Kalos dex, nor my Alolan dex as of yet. However Galar was the first dex I was able to complete with the help of my friend whom I call “Panda”.

✨ : Has your character ever encountered a shiny Pokémon ? Do they have one in their team?

Funny enough, my Pumpkaboo that my mother helped me catch whom I brought to Galar with me, was shiny! I remember asking my mother why she was purple instead of orange like the ones I saw in my textbooks from school, and she explained to me that my Pumpkaboo was rare and super special. Recently in Galar, I encountered and caught a shiny magikarp in this instance event they called a “raid”. I was able to get him to evolve into Gyarados and to be blunt, I think I prefer his shiny form over his natural colors!

🎲 : Has your character ever been to a Game Corner or equivalent? How much time do they spend there? Have they ever gotten really lucky at the slots?

I’ve been MAYBE a handful of times with Panda, but I usually don’t spend a lot of pokédollars. I’m never lucky when it comes to playing games like Panda is, so I just end up watching him play and cheer him on.

🌑 : How does your character handle villainous organizations? Have they ever encountered one? How did that go?

Back home, I was utterly terrified with my first ever run in with Team Flare. I’ve always been super shy and take things to heart too much. By god when I had to battle Lysandre, I thought I was going to faint, that’s how intimidating he was to me. But as I continued to travel, I learned new ways to cope and now in Galar, I’m not so scared. Team Yell for sure isn’t as intimidating as Team Flare back home as of yet.

⛔️ : Has your character ever mistaken an owned Pokémon for a wild Pokemon and tried to catch it?

I probably have when I was a tiny child, but as I’ve been older to understand really how catching Pokémon works, I have never mistaken one for a wild Pokémon. Thankfully.

🚴: Does your character own a bicycle? Can they ride it? Are they constantly lectured by their professors for riding it where they’re not supposed to?

I do have one! I obtained one a little into my journey in Galar! It’s super cool! It has a Rotom inside it to help me go faster and ride across water! I haven’t been lectured about riding it though. Now back home however, I had a pair of roller blades and my professors would CONSTANTLY have to remind me to take them off when going inside anywhere because I would always forget I’d be wearing them.

🎣  : Does your character fish? Do they have any luck with it? If so, what’s the biggest Pokémon they’ve caught? What’s the smallest?

I do here and there. Most of the time I don’t really find anything exciting. The biggest thing I’ve found was a Luvdisc in Alola and the smallest was a Wishiwashi in Galar.

🎃 : Do any Pokémon types unsettle your character? Do they have a phobia of them? Why?

Oh my gosh! I have such a phobia of bug type Pokémon! I had a scary run in with a spinarak a good few years ago and have had the phobia since. I’ve never liked bugs to begin with though so this bad experience just made it worse.

📖 : Did your character go to Pokémon School? If so, was it public or private? Were they homeschooled?

I did! I went to a public school as my parents were never gifted with the kind of money needed to send me to a private school. Though, I met Panda YEARS after I finished school through another friend of mine. As a child I absolutely hated school, but as I grew older, I became so much more interested in learning about Pokémon that I grew to enjoy it more and more as the years passed.

I hope you all were able to get to know me a little better and I hope I can learn more things from new people soon! Feel free to send me asks as I’ll answer them as best as I can!

[suburbanmetaldad]

What can I do for you?

Here, friends, is my super power:

I can create an entire book — a good one — quickly, with very little help.

You want a book with your name on it. I can make that happen.

Maybe you typed up a draft, and you’re not sure where to go next.

I can take it from here.

And anything smaller than that will be cheaper and faster.

Get on the schedule while you can.

Following are more details about me and my work.

Follow are links to different things D.X. Ferris makes & does. 

I am D.X. Ferris.

I grew up obsessed with music and reading. I went to school for writing. At the time, I thought I couldn’t create things. I didn’t know it yet, but I was wrong. I tried to quit. Writing wouldn’t let me. It kept pulling me back in. 

Once I figured out how to do what I wanted to do, I made up for lost time. Now I’ve covered a Rock & Roll Hall of Fame induction for Rolling Stone. I endured a career-ending injury. I’ve been to the Pentagon on business. I’ve written books with & about some of my iconic heroes. Communication is my business, and business is good.

I do a lot of different things. 

I am an award-winning writer, editor, manager, publisher, teacher, speaker, cartoonist, maker, co-author, ghost writer, and overall communications professional. To me, those various & sundry processes are all part of the same sphere — and here’s the common thread: Communication is the art of organizing information. That, friend, is what I do. I can do it for you. And we can make some money together.

I have written/co-written nine books. My personal record is four new books in 16 months.

I cut my teeth as a rock & roll journalist. Then I successfully transitioned to hard news. Lately, I’ve been creating motivational literature and self-help books. I write very effective press releases & promo material. I write & storyboard short videos. I’m writer for a documentary I can’t talk about yet.

I get around. I teach college. My CV includes work for dozens of publications, including Rolling Stone and Alternative Press (America’s two top rock & culture magazines). I’ve also written for leading outlets such as The A.V. Club and Decibel. I write and stage communication seminars. 

I have been to the Pentagon and National Air & Space Museum on business. I have been backstage at the Vans Warped Tour on business. My body of work includes book-length oral histories. 

I have collaborated with certified Grand Masters, civilians, and high-profile musical & Hollywood creative types. I have had Almost Famous moments on the side of the stage at European festivals. I wake up so early it hurts. I make money for my partners.

I am a 33 1/3 author. An Ohio Society of Professional Journalists Reporter of the Year. And a third-degree black belt (in Taekwondo). Also a 32° two-time WM/PM.

Let’s do some good work — and then let’s do some good with what comes from it.

Click the following links for my...

Good Professional Wrestling: Full Contact Life Lessons From the Pinnacle Performance Art The Good Advice From... series is now officially a franchise. Volume II features a foreword by Diamond Dallas Page, motivational icon, founder of health & wellness movement DDP Yoga, and WWE Hall of Famer. Professional wrestling is the toughest business. It is a form of competition built on collaboration and cooperation. Every successful wrestler has a diverse skill set that can help you get over too, no matter what your business or lifestyle. Filled with short chapters and useful advice, this browsable motivational manual features inspirational quotes from dozens of wrestling icons. Each is followed by easy-to-read analysis and actionable tips that can turn a life around.

I collaborated with Darren Paltrowitz on this one-of-a-kind positivity handbook. It breaks down the habits, skills, and strategies that your favorite superstars practice — and you can too, starting today.

Good Advice From Goodfellas: Positive Life Lessons from the Best Mob Movie It’s the last — or maybe first —  motivational manual and self-help guide you’ll ever need. 320 pages, paperback; Kindle ebook also available, cheap. At 145 short chapters, it’s the perfect airport/travel book. This unique meditation & reading finds teachable moments in all your favorite and quotes and scenes from this beloved, seminal movie. If you know what to look for, Goodfellas covers all the same evergreen topics as your favorite business podcasts and startup seminars... but it’s a lot more fun. No, seriously.

Co-author of motivational/how-to Masonic leadership manual

Co-author of parents’ motivational guide to kids’ martial arts

I am the most prominent, prolific non-marquee contributor the music-writing/music journalism textbook How to Write About Music, from the brain trust running Bloomsbury/Continuum’s 33 1/3 series. TECHNICALLY, I AM ON THE SAME LABEL AS NEIL GAIMAN. This is one of two or three books on this topic. Note to self: Write your own.

Wrote the official book with Donnie Iris and the Cruisers For my money, Donnie Iris & the Cruisers are the best-kept secret from 80s rock radio. That had not one, but seven hot 100 hits. The bandleader/songer penned an enduring disco hit. AND he worked with three Rock Hall of Fame artists. The band have a continuous near-40-year run. During this epic tale, they work with a young Trent Reznor, Kiss, Breathless, Cinderella, Sam Kinison, Gamble & Huff, the Jaggerz, Wolfman Jack, and bunch of others. The book is a painstakingly researched oral history that plays like a mix of the four-hour Tom Petty documentary, the movie That Thing You Do!, and the American Hardcore book. Coffee-table book, 464 pages, 102 images, 308 endnotes, 8.5x11″.

Wrote two books about thrash-metal icons Slayer

One is part of 33 1/3, the vanguard series of music-related writing.

One is an exhaustively researched full-length biography featuring 33 images and over 400 endnotes.

Publisher of 6623 Press, home to creator-owned, useful, reasonably priced, unconventional books about popular culture, success, and other cool stuff. People like them.

Full-service, full-contact indie publishing. I write, co-write, ghost-write, edit, and publish books. Quickly.

Do you have book in you? We’ll get it out.

Worked for Rolling Stone, the no. 1 music & culture magazine ever.

I’ve been writing for Alternative Press — America’s no. 2 music magazine — off & on since 2002. More recent pieces are here. Older material is here.

Wrote for alternative newsweekly Cleveland Scene, in various capacities, for 8 years. Won numerous awards for news reporting, business reporting, arts reporting, commentary, feature writing, personality profiling, and sports reporting. Click here for profiles, business features, columns, reviews, and more.

I think this piece about Cleveland’s LeBron James banner won me the Ohio Society of Professional Journalists’ Best Reporter award: Literally the entire city was looking at an iconic, massive piece of public art/advertising — and I was the one person who looked behind the scenes. For alt-weekly Cleveland Scene.

https://www.clevescene.com/64-and-counting/archives/2010/08/05/goodbye-lebron-banner-hello-sunshine-workers-behind-the-banner-speak

For Rolling Stone, I interviewed a band and created unofficial liner notes for a classic album:

https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-news/they-might-be-giants-flood-track-by-track-guide-to-the-geek-chic-breakthrough-82345/

This kind of piece is a specialty. For Alternative Press, I interviewed an infamous punk musician about his friendship with the late, great Anthony Bourdain. I supplied many conversation prompts, transcribed it, then edited his answers into one continuous narrative, while I remained invisible in the piece. If it looks like I didn’t do much, then that was the entire point.

https://www.altpress.com/features/anthony-bourdain-harley-flanagan-cro-mags-tribute/

I visit a business, describe the experience, and research how a controversial industry works. For Cleveland Scene.

https://www.clevescene.com/cleveland/game-of-chance/Content?oid=2183398

While the rest of the rock-journalism world were writing SOPA stories (Summarizing Other People’s Articles) about a developing story, I dug deep, excavated some court records, and wrote an informed summary. For Metal Sucks — for my money, the best metal news & views site.

https://www.metalsucks.net/2019/06/11/how-many-more-misfits-reunion-shows-will-there-be-according-to-legal-documents-probably-just-one/

A friendly multi-person Q&A and sidebar, stitched together from three different interviews from different media. For Alt Press.

https://www.altpress.com/features/punk-goes-fearless-records-interview/

Cover story/feature profile of the president of a local university — and how his work has helped shape the city. It’s pretty whitebread and dry, but I can work in that style when I’m not writing about raging hellions. For Cleveland Magazine, the city’s upstanding guide to what’s happening and who’s doing it.

https://clevelandmagazine.com/in-the-cle/the-read/articles/city-mission

News interview with Dan Gilbert, owner of the Cavaliers and Quicken Loans. For Scene.

https://www.clevescene.com/cleveland/enhanced-interrogation-dan-gilbert/Content?oid=1678536

Excerpt from Good Advice From Goodfellas, my self-improvement book that draws positive life lessons from the greatest gangster movie:

https://6623press.tumblr.com/post/181078213342/the-new-self-helpmotivational-manual-good-help

Christmas Sevenfold: Metal Dad, Compendium Two  My second comic-strip compilation collects seven years of Christmas & fall holiday stripes, with new art, a foreword, and an essay about why the kind of guy who wrote two books about Slayer still loves Xmas. 180 pages, oversized 8.5 x 11″ paperback.

Suburban Metal Dad, Compendium One: Raging Bullshit. The first compilation book for my webcomic. It collects Years III and IV of the comic, with 172 strips, 8 previously unreleased demo strips, an updated FAQ, and a true-life, all-text real-life metal dad story (so there’s something to really read). 180 pages, oversized 8.5 x 11″ paperback.

Individual strips of Suburban Metal Dad, an online comic that has run twice weekly since 2010.

I am totally into the Misfits/Danzig/Samhain, and wrote a bunch of stuff about this record-setting continuum of ground-breaking musicians

I wrote things for Metal Sucks

Guest on heavy metal podcasts, and bloggage about it all

Guest on assorted TV and superhero-show podcasts

Guest host on rock podcast Lost Together

Annotated both versions of “Once Bitten, Twice Shy” at Genius

Random bloggage about stuff that isn’t necessarily metal... mostly movies and holiday stuff like a survey of Christmas imagery in True Detective season 1

Tweet too much, but it’s healthier than taking cigarette breaks.

The Pentagrammarian: I take note of writing, grammar, usage, and the business thereof. I am one of very few professional writers who can list the four parts of a well-rounded profile or break down the constituent parts of a sentence, in correct technical grammar terms.

The goat had it comin’. I swear.  

[cloud17dreams]

The Boy with a Laugh so Carefree (Dino)

Genre: platonic!dinoxreader

Word Count: 3900 words!!!!!! what!!!!!!!

Summary: You meet Chan in school but for some reason you’re awkward with him until Seungkwan gave you a gentle (read:violent) nudge to approach him and, hey! It turns out well.

Requested by: Our lovely Orchid!~ 

It was on that fateful Christmas afternoon that you met him, the boy with a laugh so carefree.  Hands shoved into the deep pockets of his jeans, body covered in the gentlest shades of green, an appearance that was clean, aesthetically pleasing.

The sound of joyful chatter had been buzzing in the living hall ever since you stepped into the house a few hours ago. Surrounded by a largely tight-knitted group of best friends, you retreated back to your lil ol’ corner after formalities and stared blankly at the scene in front of you. Food, people, music, laughter - it was definitely a setting for a great party, and while you wouldn’t normally mind spending a chill night out, you were dragged by your childhood best friend, Seungkwan to this party full of strangers. Bored, you huffed and crossed your arms as you watched Seungkwan skate across the room around different groups of people, and decided after a while that weren’t going to let yourself go home upset, and especially not with an empty stomach. And so you grabbed the nearest treat within reach, and devoured it. Truffle after truffle, cupcake after cupcake, ice cream after brownies; one after another, thirds after seconds, you munched on the desserts on the counter tops, demolishing the party’s food supply steadily despite the silent pleads of the poor waiter. Good food, good music, people, laughter - wait.

“Cute boy?” you muttered, eyes trailing after the aforementioned boy. Damn. Looks like this party wasn’t going to be that much of a waste of time after all, huh? You thought, and smiled a little to yourself.

It was impossible for anyone to not notice this boy in the midst of all the delectable cuisines, and you had wondered why it took you this long - looking as though he had been catching up with his friends, it was this boy and his group that erupted with laughter all so often, attracting attention to them every now and then. It was a nice touch to the already amiable atmosphere, their laughter. Cheerful, crisp, pure joy reverberating throughout the hall, it was apparent that this said boy, this boy whose eyes twinkled reflecting the Christmas lights, was the life of the party. Interesting, you had thought back then, for a person this ethereal to be this huge bundle of joy to so many people, and took another bite off that god-sent mango pudding then, reveling in the way the sweetness burst in your mouth. 

But then you had acute diarrhea that hit you like a storm a while later and had you rush to the toilet under 3 seconds. Bumping into someone on the way. Then tripping them over. Face down. With their elbows twisted at an unfathomable angle. And you didn’t even had the time to consider helping them up to apologize. I mean, well, you had to solve the more urgent business in your pants first, right? 

And that was the story of how you effectively face-slammed a cute boy onto the ground three years ago. Gorgeous. However, despite the humiliating situation and embarrassing aftermath, an inevitable accident was all it was to you.

Or so you thought. 

Now, as you stared down the lecture hall at the new boy in class, you couldn’t believe your luck. The same pair of sparkling eyes, the same pair of hands still shoved into his denim jeans’ pockets, the same laugh? No way, you thought, as you widened your eyes and felt your surroundings turn ice cold. “Him?” 

Damn. Horrid images of mocking smirks, incessant jokes, and quiet gossip instantly flashed through your mind, and you shuddered. Gaping, you stared at the beaming boy right in front of the class. What would happen if he recognized me from that Christmas party? Would he make fun of me? Would he expose me and make me more of an embarrassment in school than I already am? You were anxious as questions raced through your mind, and soon you felt your seat mate’s gaze burn through your hunched back. Oh, right. Somewhere in the middle of your dramatic inner Q&A time you had shot down low till under your desk to hide from the boy on stage. Calming your erratic heart down, you then quickly sat back upright in your chair, and tried to persuade yourself that nothing would happen, that it probably wasn’t big enough of an event for him to remember you. You spaced out in the process, and in the end, however, your train of thought still ended up silently swerving to you willing yourself to magically become invisible while praying to all the available deities above for all the protection you could get to save you from the boy. 

The carefree laugh of that flower boy just kept on haunting you even long after he sat down and the teacher started teaching, no matter how hard you tried to ignore it. Luckily, however, it seemed as though he hadn’t noticed you. In the past hour, at least. No more than three brief turns of the heads in your general direction to chat with the person sitting behind him, no sudden change in mood that might signify that he saw you and got war flashbacks from that party, and no signs of him plotting anything destructive yet. Phew, you thought, as you crossed off yet another worry you had on your temporary “Cute Boy Observation Notebook”. Extra, you knew, but you really weren’t ready to have your embarrassing accident exposed in school so soon; this was the only way you could think of to prevent them from happening as of now.

Sighing, you craned your head up slowly and scanned the crowd before you, eyes zeroing in on that familiar slender silhouette once again - a people magnet he was, definitely. No matter where you went, be it in class or in the corridors, he would always be surrounded by a large group of people. You tried to act normally in public without looking like a crime suspect or a stalker, you really did. But whenever you thought you knew exactly where he was and that you could finally slip out to another location without being spotted, he would suddenly appear right around the corner and in a split second you would have to duck into the nearest locker! Talk about fate. During break, calculus, chemistry, humanities, lunch -heck! Even during your favorite theater you couldn’t seem to shrug off that boy with a laugh so crisp, the boy who had settled down in mere seconds into a new environment and was closer to most of your classmates than you had ever been in 3 years.

It was during dance practice then that you were finally forced to look at him straight in the eye. Having been too cooped up in your dorm room studying all day, it was last semester that Seungkwan had secretly signed you up for this aerobics dance class that was allegedly supposed to be able to “get you up and moving on the road to fitness", quoting unquoting him. Heaving your reluctant body to the studio, you sighed, then snorted as you recalled the memory. Sure, you really enjoyed watching videos of people performing on stage, but things were always different when you were the one who had to physically try it out. And this wasn’t even some cool street dancing or b-boying - it was aerobics dance class. The kind that you’ve always only seen your mom and aunties go for, and you couldn’t believe that you had just allowed Seungkwan to do this to you. Maybe you should’ve have just stayed stubborn and refused to attend class. That’d be better. Yes. But these were all just what you had been muttering to yourself as you shuffled grumpily to the first aerobics dance class of the semester. Sure, you were a selfish and timid person to start with, but your long time best childhood friend neighbor classmate seatmate local confidence booster man Mr Boo Seungkwan was somebody you cherished a lot in your life, and after the long hours of nagging he had put you through just to get you to attend this class, you weren’t ready to go back to the dorms to face his wrath again. So you sighed and stepped into the class, forcefully trying to cheer yourself up. It’ll be fine.  

OKAY, NO, IT’S NOT GONNA BE FINE, NOPENOPENOPENOPE was all you could shriek in your head frantically as you spotted a Chan (as you got to know his name was over the many times the girls in your class gloated over how ‘princely’ he was) stretching in front of the mirrors. But there was no turning back now.

“Kwannie~My favourite beautiful charming attractive best friend~ Won’t you just let me quit the aerobics dance class~Pretty please~ With a cherry on top~” you pleaded with your best puppy eyes one day to the boy sitting across you in the cafe.

Seungkwan paused in his motions, and sighed. “Okay, that’s enough,” he piped up finally, never really being able to resist your whines. Looking up from his drink as he scanned you upside down, he asked.  “What’s the matter? Why do you hate it so much? It’s really going to be good for your health in the long run, you know-” 

“I can’t even move my hips in a circle properly to start with, Kwannie, what makes you think I could dance Zumba? Everybody else seemed to have no problem with it, and I really don’t see a point in me attending it anymore when I’m struggling this much…” you pouted.

“Then why don’t you ask someone to help you with it? Don’t some kids from our year also go for that class?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow up.

Sipping from your drink, you then choked and coughed uncontrollably, patting your chest gently to calm your nerves down. “The only “kid” from our year who attends that god-damned aerobics dance class is Chan! And I can’t talk to him, or even let him know of my existence! Please, Kwannie, let me quit that class…” you begged again.

“…Y/N, do you like Chan?” Seungkwan suddenly asked after a moment of silence. 

You sputtered wildly, embarrassed, feeling your cheeks burn up. “No?! I just – ok, well, remember that Christmas party you dragged me to 3 years ago?” you asked. 

Seungkwan paused, propping his chin up on his palm on the table, and thought for a while. “Hmm… the one where you just camped in a corner and munched on the desserts till no end?” he asked, and chuckled again, continuing, “Yeah, I’d never forget how embarrassing it was to have to drag a sick you to the emergency room 2 am in the morning just because you overate,” he said.

You slammed your forehead into the coffee table in embarrassment, and groaned. “Yeah, that’s right, that’s the one I’m talking about.” 

“What about it?” he asked. 

“…do you remember how I knocked someone out as I bolted to the toilet…” you let out a flabbergasted sigh, and fell back into the comforts of the couch, continuing, “Yeah, and well, that boy was Chan, Seungkwan. I don’t know how much he remembered of the party, if he even recognized me at all, but to hell will I be taking any chances. Oh god, what if he exposes me in front of the whole school, Seungkwan?” you exclaimed frantically, “He’s so popular, I wouldn’t be surprised if he spread the news throughout the whole school in under an hour…”

And now it was Seungkwan’s turn to hit his forehead hard on the table. “It really is a miracle that we’re the bestest of friends man, y/n. How can you be so dumb, gosh.” 

“Look, if by the end of this week you’re still whining to me about quitting that aerobics dance class and refusing to get any help from, let alone talk to that kid, you’re never going to see the end of it from me,” threatened Seungkwan, “I’ll make sure that the both of you become close friends at the end of this all, no matter what it takes!”

Shaking, you clenched your fists as you stared at the entrance of the dance studio, hearing practice songs already blasting out of the speakers and into your nervous senses. You were damn well ready to sprint past the looming Seungkwan just right behind you, but decided that you were more than that. You could do this. OK WAIT - how were you going to do this again? Right. Just walk up, and talk to him as though you’ve never met before. Introduce yourself. Ask for help with that one Zumba move you just couldn’t nail. Nail that Zumba move. Move on. Sounds like a plan. 

“Alright,” you said to yourself, and placed your hand on the door, “Let’s get this done and over with,” you announced dramatically, and finally garnered the courage to push open the door with Seungkwan whispering a soft “fighting!” behind your back.

As soon as you walked in, sure enough, Chan was already there in front of the mirror, stretching just like the last time you saw him. Tapping your feet on the floor nervously, you took a deep breath, and walked over to him.

Staring down at the squeaky dance floor and fiddling with your fingers behind your back, you tapped on his shoulder awkwardly. “Uh, hi there, Chan,”

Startled, Chan then turned his back swiftly to see a nervous you. “Uh, hi?”

“Uh, hi, my name’s y/n, and, uh, I just noticed that you were quite good at this whole aerobics dancing thing and it’d be amazing if you could help me out with these few moves that I haven’t been able to grasp well,” you mumbled softly and quickly, hoping that Chan somehow had psychic abilities to be able to understand you so you didn’t have to repeat yourself. Luckily he did.

“Uh, sure! Which moves do you need help with?” he asked, slightly taken aback by the fact that a random person was asking him for help in dancing. “Hmm…” you paused to think, stunned by how Chan really didn’t seem to recall anything and how well this was going. “This is a little embarrassing, but you know that dance move in the second part of the song…” you muttered again, trailing off expecting Chan again to be able to pick up on your mumbling as you haven’t been able to look at him straight in the eyes as of yet. It was then when Seungkwan, who had been observing you from the entrance, decided that it was enough mumbling for you and interfered.

Oh no.

“Y/N!” shrieked Seungkwan, “OH MY GOD HI ARE YOU FINALLY ASKING FOR HELP WITH DANCE MOVES?” he exclaimed exaggeratedly, and you couldn’t help but facepalm internally for having such an embarrassing friend.

Eliciting no response from you, Seungkwan then turned to the flustered and equally awkward Chan. “You see, my friend here is a little shy, and she had been telling me about how she’d been struggling in class and I felt so bad for not being able to help her because I don’t take that class…I’m so glad that she finally mustered up the courage to come and ask help from you, she normally bottles everything up on her own,” Seungkwan blabbered then trailed away, faking a sob as you cringed yet again at how dramatic he was.

Embarrassed, you pushed Seungkwan away, and muffled his protests as you apologized to Chan. “Sorry, my friend here is just a lil’ dramatic,” Chan chuckled, agreeing silently. “But, yeah, could you help me with those dance moves?” you asked.

Both of you laughing a little more freely now, Chan then nodded and agreed, beaming. “Sure! All you’ve got to do is…”

“Thank you sososo much for today, Chan,” you said after a whole hour of practicing and finally nailing the move, “Let’s grab a drink at the coffee shop right downstairs! My treat!”

It had been a few weeks now that he had been helping you out at the aerobics dance class, and the both of you had grown to be quite close. He still hadn’t shown any signs of him remembering anything, let alone plotting anything to embarrass you, so you slowly started to open up to him.

“Sure, let’s go!” Chan laughed, and wiped his sweat with a towel then slung his sports bag over his shoulders, jogging a little to catch up with you on the way to the coffee shop.

At the coffee shop, the both of you plopped your exhausted bodies down into the comfy bean bags they had scattered around the shops, then almost literally melted into the haven of the fragrance of coffee, the blasting air conditioner, and the cozy atmosphere of the cozy place completed with the melody of an old, familiar song floating from the speakers-

“Wait - is this Beat It…? Playing over the PA system?” you sat up immediately, and perked up your ears. “Yes!” you squealed as you confirmed, and did a small dance to Beat It, completely immersed in your own world. “Damn, I really love 80’s pop,” you muttered in passing, and continued to party to that song alone despite being drained from practice previously.

Having tuned out his surroundings, Chan unfortunately missed the song, as it changed over to a song from the 00’s and you took your seat in the blue bean bag across Chan again. However, originally staring blankly into space, Chan then shot up upon hearing that statement. 

“No way, really? 80’s pop?” he asked, his face brightening up immediately. “Who’s your favourite artist? John Lennon? Queen? Lionel Richie?” Chan bombarded, his whole body shaking with excitement. It was rare to have ever found somebody who liked something as geeky as this like him – being the “cool”, “edgy” teenagers at 18 you both were, this geeky side was something you both would be made fun of if anyone else knew about it. But here the both of you were, fans of a genre this specific? 

You couldn’t believe your luck. First the boy from a random Christmas party turned out to be your classmate. Now you’re telling me that he’s a geek too and likes 80’s pop? You’ve got to be kidding. 

“Oh. My goodness,” you gaped at him, “you like 80’s pop too?”

“Yeah!” Chan grinned, happy to have finally found someone with like interests. 

“So, Who’s your favourite artist?” 

“My go-to song is definitely The Way You Make Me Feel by Michael Jackson,” you said, flinging your hands around wildly in excitement, “Michael Jackson’s the King of Pop, and nobody can fight me on that!”

 Chan then yelped in shock and jumped out of his seat.  “DID YOU JUST SAY MICHAEL JACKSON?” 

“Yeah…?” You replied timidly, and wondered if you had said something wrong. “I LIKE MICHAEL JACKSON TOO OH MY GOD HE SLAYS ME EVERYTIME I REWATCH HIS DANCE VIDEOS HE IS MY IDOL I ASPIRE TO BE LIKE HIM ONE DAY!! Y/N OMG YOU DON’T EVEN UNDERSTAND-“

“WAIT WHAT NO DON’T SHOUT,” you whisper-shouted, immediately reaching over the coffee table and putting a hand over the mouth of an overly-excited Chan to muffle his screams. Frantically scanning the café for any enraged customers, you ducked down fast behind your seat as you made sure the coast was clear. “Speak slower, Chan, I couldn’t understand a word you just said,” You whisper-laughed, watching as the now flushed Chan slowly calm down to take his seat too before he embarrassed himself further. You had never seen this side of him before, and it was amusing. It was a damn miracle that Chan could stop himself from screaming again, as you slowly let go of your hand, because you could literally see the unsaid screams burning behind the glint in his eyes.

 “You like Michael Jackson too?” he asked, a sort of childish excitement lilting in his voice. 

“…too?” you muttered, and paused for a while as you processed the information slowly before - “OH MY GOD PLEASE DON’T TELL ME YOU’RE A FAN OF THE KING TOO-“ 

“SHHHH-“ Chan laughed, clutching his aching stomach while trying to catch his breath as he watched the realization hit you like a lightning bolt. Your eyes widened indefinitely, and you stared at the boy in front of you. 

“Damn,” you said, falling back into your chair from the shock. What a coincidence! “Man, when I saw you at that one Christmas party 3 years ago, I never thought that you would be an avid fan of The Kingtm too,” you blurted out mindlessly. 

Chan looked at you in confusion. “You’ve seen me before 3 years ago?” 

“Yeah…” you mumbled, then slapped yourself on the face once for that slip, but you guess that there wasn’t a way out anymore “3 years ago, Seungkwan - you remember the person you appeared suddenly in the dance studio embarrassingly when we first met? Yeah, that person - dragged me to this random Christmas party I think was hosted by one of his friends. I noticed you then, chatting away happily with your group of friends by the high tables. I really liked your laugh – Oh my god please don’t think I’m creepy I’m really not you were just laughing really loudly and I thought that your laugh was really carefree I’m not attracted to you or anything please don’t misunder-” 

Chan chuckled joyfully, and said, “Don’t worry, y/n, you’re not the first one to have told me that,” he grinned, “But why didn’t you just approach me if you recognized me when I first came here?”

You rubbed your nape sheepishly and looked down in embarrassment. “Well, I might or might not have also been the one to have knocked you down at 1.30 am in the morning out of seemingly nowhere, if you remember…” 

Chan paused at that statement, and gasped. “So it was you who dislocated my elbow? Oh my god, if I met you way back then I would have punched you straight or embarrass you already, y/n,” he laughed, eyes crinkling. “Is this why you were so nervous when you first approached me?” he asked, and burst into laughter again. “Man, this is so weird. Now that I actually know you, I suddenly don’t feel the urge to punch you anymore for that knock down 3 years ago.” 

“Yeah, I was terrified of exactly that - you taking revenge on me,” you shivered slightly at the image in your mind, but couldn’t stop yourself from grinning from ear to ear at the fact that Chan didn’t want to punch you or embarrass you back anymore. 

“I’m glad now that I’ve successfully dissolved that hatred,” you then chuckled, tilting your head slightly with a smile on your face. 

“Definitely. How could I still when we’re still not done fangirling over - ” Chan paused, then scanned the horizon gravely before shouting “THE KING OF POP!” and taking a run for the door before the café baristas came after him with baseball bats and steel pans. You clutched your stomach and slapped the arm of the chair as you laughed hysterically. “WAIT FOR ME!” you shouted to him, bolting after him too in lightning speed after leaving change on the table top.

Author’s Notes: yesssssss finally got this out after so long :”) hope y’all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing this half-crack fic HAHAHHA 

-Admin Sapphire ^_^

[sagastar-blog]

MemoToTheMetaverse 2.4 “Gaia Says to Jeff, Let’s Take the Black Keys Car Service!”

Gaia, our hero, the story’s 16-year-old tomboyish female protagonist, walks around in��a magnificent green, blue, and white bathrobe. Her long darkreddishbrown hair is dripping wet. Gaia is the planet Earth in human form, and has always been entirely awake, or aware of this fact. She’s recently emerged from the family “scuttlebutt,” a solar-powered steam room of sorts off the side of the family’s entirely ordinary first-floor Highland Park, NJ, apartment. She speaks into a hairbrush: 

Gaia: So glad to be here with Dan and Patrick of the Black Keys. Guys! Good morning! What brought you to The Orchard on this leg of the current intergalactic tour?

[Dan Auerbach--the lily-white reformed stoner father / lead singer of the indie blues rock duo from Akron known throughout the universe and beyond as The Black Keys--is a large Bert from Sesame Street doll.] 

Dan: Ummmmm. Gee. Let’s see. Well, I guess we figured we were in the neighborhood, you know, New York is kind of a thing...Hey, um, Do you guys have any coffee here? I could also really use a bagel. Like, with cream cheese, yeah? Thanks. Okay, yeah.

Patrick, a narwhal hand puppet and the drummer in the band, wears hipster glasses and grunts somewhat rhythmically: Me too. Please. Thanks. Whatever.

Gaia (turns towards the kitchen and yells): Daddy! Do we have any bagels left?

[Jeff is Gaia’s 39-year-old father, who has sole custody but, as any parent must no, very little immediate control over his daughter. He’s actually a young Bengal tiger in disguise as a human and also the Master Creator/Destroyer of All.

Jeff: Yeah, hold on. Do they want everything like usual?

Patrick the narwhal begins gnawing on the top of Bert’s head while gently spanking it from below with its tail, and grunts: “Sure thing, boss.”

Dan is distracted by Gaia’s proverbial “décolletage.” It must be said that Gaia is a beautiful, buxom, and rather rambunctious young woman, and has been for a few years now something of a man-eater. More problematically, she’s been neglected by her boyfriend/cousin-in-law, Amateratsu, the local mediocre neighborhood son, thanks to the way she’s been done dirty and wrong by life--HER LIFE, yes, but still--in recent times.

Dan: Thanks so much Jeff, that’s great. Gaia’s taking good care of us in here.

Jeff: She’s a fantastic hostess. You should check out her bedroom! It’s kind of a mess...Gaia, do you think you could maybe try sweeping some day? 

Gaia (returning to her interview): Dan, Patrick, do you ever wish a great wind would come along and wash away all the beer cans and bottles? I mean, like, take Akron....maybe all the rubber tires and factories and stuff should be...

Dan: Burned?

Patrick the narwhal has heard this story so many times already. He continues drumming on his lap, staring rather obtusely at Gaia’s round ass as she busily picks up last night’s detritus. He doesn’t mind getting interviewed today because he owes his ex-wife so much in arrears for child support that he’s willing to put up with Bert’s narcissism for yet another day.

Gaia: I was thinking, wouldn’t it be nice if Brian Wilson and the rest of the Beach Boys could just bury the hatchet and do, like, a benefit for the environment or something? Like, what is it going to take for some big shot celebrity musicians to actually get involved in American public life?

Dan: What we need, clearly, is the American version of Bono. Otherwise, Africa will become China and then we’re all fucked.

Gaia: Precisely. (prepares her hookah for the day’s first toke....Jeff doesn’t mind that Gaia is going through a phase in which she smokes as much cannabis as she wants when she’s at his house. She’s not always home from school, so he figures it’s a balanced approach to Creation/Destruction.)

Patrick: Do you think we could hit that?

Gaia (eyes smoldering): Butt of course, Monsieur Patrick. Et toi, Dan? Qu’en volez vous?

Dan: Did you just ask me where I’m flying next? 

Gaia: EH bien. Si vous voulez faire le countertransference avec moi, ca va couterez...(she lights up)

Jeff (buttering and cream-cheesing the bagels): Gaia, I’m serious! Your room!

Gaia (tucking her Bert and narwhal weiweis into her bed): I suggest we take the Black Keys Car Service to the eco preserve.

Jeff: Gaia, can you please explain to our guests what that will entail?

[Pollux and Castor emerge from the basement, all sparkly. They’re stars from an intergalactic talent competition known as Copernamici. As the head stars in the constellation Gemini, they are Amateratsu’s siblings, relatives of Jeff and Lucius. Pollux is slightly brighter and cheerier in general, whereas Castor has a beautiful, rich baritone voice.]

Castor: I was hoping we’d get to go to the preserve. There’s so little nature here in The Orchard, which is kind of ironic, don’t you think?

Pollux: Yeah, I was just thinking that it’s weird that there are signs all around this town, what is it called here Highland Park, that say things like “Tree City U.S.A.” and “No Hate Here.” They can’t even see us when they look up at night! Where exactly is the eco preserve, Gaia?

Gaia: Sore subject. Which is why I suggest taking the Black Keys Car Service! Daddy, you explain in a longwinded monologue which is not exactly a siloloquy but who cares because Shakespeare was SUCH a bitch...

Jeff (sets down the coffee at the C2 Center for Educational Brainwashing, where he is paid 27 dollars an hour to help privileged children improve their SAT scores): THE BLACK KEYS CAR SERVICE is one of the greatest ideas ever. It is the solution to the problem we face today aboard Spaceship Earth. (speaking into the ship’s PA system microphone) Humans! You have, since the dawn of the industrial revolution, been shitting in your own scuttlebutt! You have been, like cyborgswine, befouling your own trough. Your pollution--Ohio, we’re looking right at you...OH GEEZ, Cuyahoga was a great R.E.M. song about you burning rivers...where are you Michael Stipe when the galaxy needs you?--will no longer be tolerated. I have come here, people of Earth, to save Gaia. Only, the way it works is that Gaia doesn’t need salvation. Gaia, your planet Earth, will outlive all of you. Life will persist on this planet whether you want it to or not...at least for a little longer. The point here is that I am here to protect Gaia from all of you who have been either neglecting and violating her. (Hugs his daughter tightly.) The latter is worse than the former, but there are no innocent people in this world of ours, right Gaia?

Gaia (not a victim..a survivor): Correct.

Jeff (continues): Now. You, humans, will end this farce of an existence. You have serious environmental problems which you are not capable of fixing by yourselves. The first step in solving a problem is admitting that you have a problem. The Black Keys Car Service is the best way for you to admit you have a problem.

Jeff and Gaia step out to their electric car.

We’re not suggesting that you need to trash your entire civilization. No. That’d be impractical. You need to recycle it. You need to throw away a lot of stuff that’s bad. 

Amateratsu (offstage): I SUGGEST FEEDING ME!

Jeff: Let’s shoot a bunch of shit into the sun, like old junk that’s bad for Gaia. Let’s figure out a way to use nuclear and other technologies sustainably and responsibly. There are no such thing as “bad nukes,” just as there are no such things as “bad phones.” You have technology and you need to learn how to use it wisely. I say I’m wisdom unemployed. I don’t need to spend my time pretending to teach here at the C2 Center for Educational Polyamorous Cockblocking and Blueballing. It’s not very fun, rewarding, or productive for me. (Imagine that, John Lenin!) 

It’s not easy for you to accept that you’re a computer virus and that your existence is a threat to lots (not ALL) other life here on Earth. I get that! We have a suggestion...

Gaia (grabs the mic and screams as loudly as possible): Just send an ordinary unmarked car to Jeff’s house at 35 S. Fifth Avenue in Highland Park, NJ, 08904, U.S.A, Earth, Dimension 1(?)=1 / infinity. (Everyone knows my real address is one over infinity!) But make sure it’s like really smooth and cool...you know, like it should be the kind of car service that Dan and Patrick would use and then try to cash in on by selling out...like El Camino.   

But it can’t be an El Camino. It should be like a 2002 Ford or something. Not eco-friendly! It needs to be authentic and real, like Akron but WORSE. If I’m being violated, at least let Jeff on the Lester GangBangBus. You know what I mean? SO the one thing about The Black Keys Car Service is that it’s got to be both legitimate and correct. There will be no “Black Keys” cds or music or anything directly related to the Black Keys in the car, obviously. The music should be a delightful mixture of T. Bone Burnett classics, which is to say stuff that would sell at Starbucks and not offend Jeff. This is how Jeff learns! By doing human anthropology. We don’t hate your culture. We just have taste and need a little bit of respect, so like, no music referencing “niggers,” “bitches,” and other unsavory aspects of your filthy human world. I’m sorry, but there’s a difference between you listening to what you like in public and you exposing me and my Daddy and my friends  to your pollution. We need to be protected, like in an eco preserve! 

Jeff: What Gaia is trying to say is that I don’t ask for much. You’ve been caught with your hand in the cookie jar. That’s fine by me. I’m used to it. But now that you’ve been caught, you have to admit it. You have to admit what you’ve done and you have to do it soon by sending The Black Keys Car Service, which is recognizing me as someone valuable and worthy of dignity and respect, as well as adoration, of course. 

Send me a private car with a driver--let him be exactly like the dude who plays bass and also keyboards for the Shins, if not that guy himself!--who recognizes me as JustJeff and takes me where I want to go. For free (i.e. without charging me money or making me feel awkward). You know who I am, so stop pretending! Allow the driver to speak to me like a normal person. It will be great! And please let there be bagels with cream cheese and coffee in the car. Other than that, there’s nothing else for me to request. If you do that, i’ll know that we’re going somewhere together. 

If I’m going to save you, Gaia, it’s going to be on my terms, not theirs. We have a lot of work to do and must take practical steps. The Black Keys Car Service is the best way to get moving in the right direction.

Gaia (fidgeting with her phone): OMJ, I hate this phone! (throws it out the window and turns up the music, which I believe is some Dusty Springfield song, but we can’t be sure...) 

[l-x-ie]

Songs and Kisses

Ch. 6 of Altea High

Lance sprinted down the rest of the way that led up to his front door, backpack thumping rhythmically against his side. He slung his bag from his shoulder, got his keys, and opened the door shouting, “Did you kids remember your Temper Gummies?”  

“Yeah!” a voiced piped up.

Two sets of feet scampered down the stairs followed by a loud thump and a shout. Lance dropped his bag in the entryway, let the door swing shut, and rushed over to see his two younger sisters piled on top of each other. The shorter one struggled under the other who slumped even further, crushing their sibling under them.

“Melodyyyyy! Get off! Lance!”

Smothering his chuckles back he hoisted the older sister by the armpits, releasing the younger. Despite Melody going limp in his hold, increasing her weight tenfold—what is his mother feeding this girl?—he held her under one arm like a football.

Cora, the rambunctious eight-year old, leapt up and fled the room shouting, “Freedom! Sweet freedom!”

Melody’s body shook with laughter and peered up at her big brother through her chestnut bangs. Her big blue eyes sparkling with mirth. He scrunched up his nose in a exaggerated glare. “Did you guys really take your gummies?”

She nodded and he dropped her, she landed on the carpet with a little poof, her little body splayed as she embraced the floor. He stood over her for a second or two before abandoning his own flesh and blood.

It was only a few more seconds she lay prone before she skipped up and followed him into the living room. “Cora! Do you have homework?” he yelled into the house.

“No!” Her faint voice drifted from somewhere on the other side of the house.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m in third-grade, how much homework do you think I have?” Her voice steadily decreased from shouting to a reasonable decibel as she walked through the door with a handful of cookies.

“I dunno,” he swiped two cookies while Melody stole another despite their sister’s cry. “Maybe they’re secretly having you work on government secrets under the guise of homework.”

“Pfftt,” Cora rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right, hermano.” She flopped on the couch, lengthwise, dark hair fanned out over the cushions. Scrounging out the remote from between the cushions she turned on the TV and put on some cartoon that he hasn’t kept up with.

He turned away from the kid in the bear hat talking to a girl that was made of fire to Melody who was patiently waiting on the piano bench, flipping through her music sheets.

He sat next to her on a bench that barely fit two people, but would comfortably sit a ten-year-old and a gremlin. So if Pidge could teach his sister piano then that would be great, but she doesn’t, so he either sits with his left butt cheek off the bench or get a bigger bench. Sadly, the bigger bench won’t fit in the living room so half butt cheek it is.

“Are you sure you didn’t change your mind on the piano?”

She shook her head as the tapped a simple tune on the keys. Listening closely, he could hear the slightly out of tune Yankee Doodle Dandy.

“Y’know, the guitar is pretty cool, I could teach you the guitar. And it’s mobile!”

She stared intently at him, sky blue eyes piercing his soul, as she played out the theme song for Charlie Brown, slowly but forceful.

He raised his hands in surrender. “Fine, fine, I get it. I’m just saying there might be better options out there than the piano.”

After a few hours at the piano he could hear the door click thrice, one in one direction and the second in the other and one last firm one. “What have I told you about locking this door!”

Lance winced and bit his tongue before responding. “Sorry, Mamá! Won’t happen again!”

“That’s what you always say, tonto.”

His mother came over to the piano and ruffled his hair and kissed his forehead then Melody’s. “Mijo, the day you remember to lock the door is the day the world ends.”

She walked over where Cora was passed out on the couch and maneuvered her dead-to-the-world body to something more comfortable before collapsing on the couch. After a minute she rustled out stacks of paper out of her bag and set them next to her on the well-loved sofa.

“Taking home work again? Tsk, tsk, tsk, what would dad say?”

“Well considering he’s away on a case that would make him a hypocrite.” She stuck her tongue out at him and he reciprocated with Melody peeking from behind him to back him up.

He took out his phone and looked up a sheet music on it. Might as well make the last bit of practice time fun. The printer in the office adjacent to the living room whirring loudly as he found the one he wanted. His mom always did her work in the living room with the kids, why she has an office he doesn’t know.

“Can I know who it is?” he asked as he walked to get the music sheets.

His mother doesn’t bother answering him until he’s back in the room. “You know it’s confidential but I will say that it’s a win.”

Lance nodded. “Cool, cool… are you meeting Plax tomorrow?”

“Yes, I assume she told you?”

“Yeah, it’s the monthly report, but I will say that she’s been doing great at school if you want my opinion.”

His mamá looks at him with her big brown eyes. “Lance, you know that I don’t think that Plaxum is a bad kid. These check-ins are to make sure that she’s adapting.”

Lance pursed his lips and tapped out the notes slowly, hearing that familiar tune that his sisters were playing since the movie came out. Melody’s worried frown turned into a smile that showed every tooth including the adorable crooked canine. She clapped and eagerly started to copy his finger movements in the higher key. He said without looking up from the keyboard, “I know. It, it just feels like you’re treating her like she’s… she’s a villain or something. Like you’re checking in because you don’t trust her.”

“Lance, mijo, it’s not like that at all.” She got up and stood next to the piano, arms folded on top. “I know that it might look like it but I can’t change the system. Even if they’re good kids the government wants to make sure that the public is safe and this is the solution they’ve come up with. Kids of supervillains make the public uneasy and it’s either monthly lunch dates with me or her not going to school.”

He didn’t stop playing but let his head drop closer to her. She carded her fingers through his hair soothingly before moving around the bench and crouching down next to his sister. “I just don’t think it’s fair.”

“It’s not fair, mijo. But education is important and with education she can help the world be a little less unfair.” She smiled and pecked Melody’s cheek. “Buen trabajo, mija! Qué canción es esto? Suena familiar. It sounds familiar.”

He snuck a look at his sister who snuck one back to him with a little smile. Nope. She wasn’t talkin’, in Spanish or otherwise. Maybe they should try sign language next.

Lance knew she tried to change the subject. He knew that she would answer if he continued but decided to let it die, he answered for Melody and his mother. “It’s Evermore, Mamá. Someone put up the piano sheet music for it.”

“Remind me which is Evermore, mijo?”

“You know,” He started from the beginning, Melody’s fingers tangling with his before she took them back. His voice was a little too high to match Josh Groban. “I was the one who had it all. I was the master of my fate. I never needed anybody in my life. I learned the truth too late.”

“Ooooh! Beauty and the Beast!”

“Yeah,” He slowed his fingers and put Melody’s small hands back on the keys, pointing to the notes on the sheet music, letting her make her way through them. “Can I go out tomorrow?”

“Lance, it’s a school night.”

He looked at her, mouth agape. “Mamá! It’s Saturday tomorrow!”

Her body jerked and she whipped out her phone, going to her calendar app. “What?! It can’t be Friday already!” Her shoulders slump and her head cants to the side. “It’s Friday. Where does the time go.”

“You said you were meeting Plax tomorrow! Didn’t you know which day!”

“I knew that I was meeting her tomorrow I just didn’t realize it was Friday!”

”Aye por dios.” Lance laughed.

His mom hit him on the shoulder with her phone over his little sister. “Aye, don’t swear!”

He held up his hands with Melody ducking underneath them. ”Lo siento, lo siento, Mamá!” She stopped her assault, with a disapproving frown. He tried not to laugh, as he was sure she would try to beat the swear words out of his brain. She had a weird Cuban-Catholic-mother spider-sense whenever any of her children were swearing. He might have speculated with his older siblings whether or not she secretly had a superpower to sense swearwords from her offspring despite evidence of her being a civilian. “So can I go out tomorrow?”

She rolled her eyes, her entire body following dramatically. “I suppose. Is it with that superkid you were talking about?”

Lance flushed red. He allowed his lips to slip into a sly smile. “Maybe.”

 It’s just for coffee. It’s just for coffee. The mantra in his head was on repeat as he made his way to the local coffee shop. He tried to calm his heartbeat, the constant thumping against his breastbone distracting. There was nothing to worry about! He was Lance the most controlled superkid at Altea High! He was cool as ice. Ice Ice Baby was his theme song. Nothing could shake him. Not explosions, not a fire-powered mullet, not Professor Slav on one of his million of dimension possibility calculation ramblings, and certainly not a coffee date.

He approached the glass doors. He took a deep breath and exhaled his worries out. She said yes to the date. She said yes to the date. She likes you. There’s nothing to worry about. It’ll go great.

He walked through the doors and in the sunny corner with a frothy frosted thing, a teal straw with a pink ring poking out of the whipped cream, was his date. Dyed blonde hair pulled into two perky pigtails, her black roots only serving to make her that more noticeable, as if anyone wouldn’t be already in awe and staring. Her normally warm brown eyes purple and larger from the colored circle lenses and golden skin glowed in the sunlight.

He put on a winning smile. “Hey, Nyma, did I keep you waiting?”

Her pink, pink lips tugged into a smile. “It’s fine, you’re right on time. I like that.”

He relaxed some and slouched into the comfy armchair across from her. He made a show of looking around the quiet coffee shop, empty except for the barista. “You might be asked to leave soon. You’re making the other women look bad.”

She giggled wind chimes and sparkling water and his heart took a dive. What he wouldn’t do to hear that laugh again. She leaned forward, the neckline of her top dipping. “Very smooth, very smooth. I should call you Google, because you have everything I’m looking for.”

He clutched his hands to his heart and collapsed back into the cushions. His heart, his heart! Peeking and eye open he could see the cute little wrinkle in her nose when she giggles at his antics. He let his hands fall and let head fall to the side, soft smile apparent. “Out of all your beautiful curves, your smile is my favorite.”

She stopped laughing and blushed red across her cheekbones and it was the cutest thing he’s ever seen. “Seriously, you’ve got to stop being so cute or else you’re going to put me into cardiac arrest.”

“Lance!” She playfully hit him on the knee. “You’re making me blush!”

He smiled again. “All in a day’s work, beautiful.”

She set aside her drink and scooted forward in her chair and took his hands between hers. “Lance,” She smiled softly at their joined hands and rubbed her thumbs in distracting circles on his skin. “I wanna be honest with you.” She took a deep breath. “I—I really, really, really like you. I like your smile, I like your positive attitude, and I love your eyes... I would really like us to date. Exclusively.” She peeked up at him with her heart-stopping eyes.

Lance felt his heart stop and race double-time. He tugged on her hands to get a little closer, her head tilted in confusion before he slotted their lips together. She melted against him, head tilting further for him to get better access, scooting closer until her hands wrapped around his neck. Her breath was sweet and smelled of coffee and he could feel the stickiness of her lipstick. His hand drifted up to cradle her head, the warmth of her skin permeating the slight coolness of his skin from when he used his powers that morning when he iced the floor of his sisters’ room as a prank.

He slowly broke the kiss, out of breath. Looking at her perfect face her eyes were still closed and her lips still parted. Looking at those pink-smudged lips he pecked them one last time and once on her nose, smearing some of that pink on that little button. She giggled. Eyes still closed her lips tilted into a smile, relaxed, he felt his face heat. It was a good thing she had her eyes closed or else she could see how red his face was becoming. He responded, “I would love to be your boyfriend.”

Finally her eyes opened and crinkled with happiness, she rested her forehead against his and rubbed the tips of their noses together, transferring that pink. “Then I guess I’m your girlfriend.”

Ch.1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5

Ao3

[jetbootcollection]

A Hero’s Vacation, Ch.2

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Characters: Marinette/Ladybug, Adrien/Chat Noir, Alya, Nino, OC(s)

Summary: Reuniting with an old friend goes about as wrong as it could.

Tags: Fluff, Self-Indulgent Fluff, Angst, No Romance (for canon characters), Gratuitous use of OCs, Headcanons Abound

Words: 7975

Chapters: 2/?

<<Chapter 1 , Chapter 3>>

Nino liked hearing Alya talk. She had that perfect level of sass in everything she said and could make anything sound interesting. But this was getting ridiculous. Ever since that foreign hero had arrived in Paris, Alya had been scouring the internet for info on more heroes. And boy, did she find it.

By now Nino knew that there were heroes in Tokyo, Cairo, and Seattle, probably more he didn’t care to remember, along with then names of a dozen such heroes. For three solid days, Alya did nothing but info-dump about some new hero she had found. No one was safe from her overflowing knowledge, having even cornered Chloe into listening.

Marinette, usually the one to reign her in when she got going on about Ladybug, had done nothing to stop her. If anything, she had encouraged Alya to research Eagle and his teammates in the beginning stages. But now she was suffering alongside Nino and the rest of the school.

“The school should just hire her to teach a class. At least then we would have an excuse to not care.” Nino said while leaning back boneless in a library chair. The librarian had kicked Alya out enough times that this had become the official safe zone.

“Be careful what you wish for. I saw her carry a portfolio into the headmaster’s office, so she may have already asked.” Adrien said from across the table, trying to at least look busy reading a book to justify taking up a seat in the crowded library. Looking up to make sure his friend was not going to break his headphones in frustration at the news, he sees Amoux coming towards them.

“Sorry to overhear, but I agree. Alya needs to chill out.” His French was getting better and he was starting to pick up phrases. He sat down in the last remaining chair and began taking out his own work to do.

“Bro, I am so sorry for you. She’s been on you all day. How did you get away?” Nino asked, genuinely curious but trying to be subtle. Alya’s international superhero stint had started with Amoux, so of course she wanted to know more from the only person she knew with firsthand experience.

Amoux smirked as he explained his escape.

“It was not hard once I say ‘I do not know the words to describe him.’ I start talking in English and she lost interest. I was like, ‘Oh Alya you must understand, [Eagle is handsome and courageous like you wouldn’t believe. And huggable! Just look at those feathers and tell me you don’t want a piece of that.]’ She didn’t want to waste time translating, so she moved on.”

The boy seemed quite pleased with himself, making his English sound as close to Alya’s ramblings as possible. Adrien and Nino had caught on to his impression of her and found it hilarious. Not enough to laugh, because that would get them kicked out and put them at risk of another Alya lecture.

“Sounds to me like you have quite a lofty opinion of Eagle.” Marinette turned around in her chair behind Amoux. She too was hiding from Alya and, though she would never admit to it, had found a seat as close to Adrien as possible.

Amoux’s checks took on a pinker shade as he realized the girl had understood what he had said. Good thing he hadn’t said anything too revealing, or he wouldn’t be able to play it off so easily.

“W-Well, I do. He was the best Seattle hero.” He said, trying hard to not panic when he turned around to face her. This school’s English class was rudimentary but well balanced, so she would have the basics down if she paid attention. During his visit to her home he had noticed a pair of framed degrees from a baking school in London, so she might get some of it at home. Just how much English did she know?

Marinette read his face to mean something completely different.

“Don’t worry about it, Amoux. Thinking about your favorite hero that way is completely normal. I’m sure half of Paris would jump at the chance to steal a kiss from Ladybug.” Marinette assured him, her own checks darkening a bit. She only had eyes for Adrien, but her fans could be very passionate and she would be lying if she said she didn’t get anything out of the attention.

“Don’t forget Chat Noir. He’s quite the catch too.” Adrien offered. Compared to Labybug, he had fewer fans that were bold enough to make a pass at him. But when they did, they went all out. Too bad he only had eyes for Ladybug or he would be the most eligible bachelor in town.

“I hear you, dude. I wouldn’t mind a date with the Chat.” Nino said without thinking. The surprised looks from his friends made him quickly amend his statement. This was not how he wanted to come out as bi.

“He’s the coolest dude I know. A friendly date with a guy like that would be dope.” Nino tried not to shy away from it but failed. If the nervous look on Adrien’s face was anything to go by, he had weirded him out.

“E-Excuse me a minute.” Adrien said and he pushed out his chair and marched off to the library bathroom. Nino was decimated. He didn’t have feelings for his best friend. He didn’t want to lose him either.

“Oh man. I didn’t think he would be that much of a ‘phobe.” He said as he flopped onto the table, popping his hat off and nearly cracking his glasses. Marinette wanted to comfort him but didn’t know how. Her parents might as well be saints, so she had grown up learning that people who rejected love based solely on gender were toxic and wrong. Adrien deserved the benefit of the doubt, but Nino deserved better than this.

“I do not believe that. Adrien is a very accepting person who respects the feeling of others, no matter what form they take. Him running away was likely because he thought you were expressing interest in him directly. It’s possible he was thinking of the clothing line he modeled recently, called ‘The Chat,’ which was inspired by Chat Noir himself, and made the association. Once he realizes his mistake he will return to apologize, happy that you no longer carry the burden of keeping that side of yourself a secret.” Amoux spoke calmly, almost hypnotically. There had been no pauses of thought. His French was impeccable.

The library was a quiet place by design, but the silence had deepened. Everyone within earshot had been listening in since halfway through the speech. Slowly but surely, they all went back to what they were doing but remained in stunned silence.

Adrien came back from the bathroom not a second later. He raised an eye brow at the sudden silent focus in the room. The librarian must have put her foot down.

“Man, it’s quiet in here.” Adrien whispered as he approached, unaware that he had indirectly caused it.

“Nino, listen. I’m sorry I bailed like that. There was this fashion line I modeled and-“ He didn’t get to finish before Nino got up to give his best friend a bro hug.

“Dude, it’s cool. Amoux explained it.”

“Explained what?” Adrien asked. Amoux had gone back to his book to not pull any more attention to himself. He looked a bit sheepish.

“I do not like doing that in public. But emergency times call for emergency measures.”

Being Eagle for so long meant that some of his powers came through even as a civilian, which meant he saw things that most people could not. It went beyond how people held themselves, eye movements, eating habits, stress responses. With a good memory and long enough observation, he could predict how people would react and know their reasoning.

This time, Amoux could not shake the feeling he had gotten lucky. Something about Adrien just didn’t make sense. There was an invisible wall in his mind pushing him back as he tried to look deeper. Despite his drive to develop his talents and desire to be able to read anyone right down to the core, something, some force, prevented him from wanting to pry into the matter.

Thinking about it, only one other person shared that trait. And she was sitting right behind him.

Sophia sat on a bench in whatever random art gallery Alex had dragged her to. In another life they would both have been artists, but Sophia enjoyed the creation process far more than the presentation. It was an overcast day in Paris with the clouds threatening to rain, so they had planned a day of indoor tourist activities. The two needed to fill time while their kwamis recovered from swimming and sprinting halfway around the world, so here they were.

Alex came back from wherever wing of the gallery she had wandered off to and sat down. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the fact that her partner was on her phone in such a beautiful place.

“[Some pretty neat pieces in here. Makes me wish I had brought my sketch pad.]” Alex said wistfully.

“[It would have gotten warped from being in a backpack for so long. But check this out. The local superteam has a really great blog dedicated to them.]” She handed Alex the phone, which had done a decent job of translating the blog into English. Scrolling, she found an article that piqued her interest.

“[‘Heroes of the World’ huh? We might be featured in that.]”

Sophia leaned in to see. The article had a lot of slang that did not translate well, but was surprisingly well put together and researched for a fan-made article. Each hero had an expertly trimmed photo of them in an action pose at the top of a four-paragraph description of their powers and achievements. Finding her own, she liked what she saw.

“[‘Salmon becomes more powerful in water, making her a gift of god to America’s wettest city.’ I wouldn’t mind replacing my wiki page with this. Mine’s so stuffy and rigid compared to yours.]” Alex whined.

“[That’s the point of a wiki page, babe. Straight to the point and dense as hell.]” She did little gestures to emphasize her point, earning a giggle from her partner.

Alex went back to the main page of the blog and finds Eagle in all the thumbnails for the video posts that week. After watching a few, she hands the phone back to Sophia.

“[He’s been in two fights so far. One before we saw him on the news, and one last night.]”

“[Too bad we couldn’t make it to that one. I really want to see those kids fight in person. That Ladybug girl looks like she’s got a lot of spunk.]”

“[We need to find Eagle soon before we run out of money. Too bad we can’t predict when or where their next fight will be…]” Her voice slowed to a trickle as she realized what she was saying. Alex prayed that Sophia had not gotten the same terrible thought she had. Snapping to face her partner confirmed the presence of The Planning Smirk.

“[No. Nope. Nuh-uh. We are NOT going to stage an attack on Paris just to find Eagle.]” But it was too late. Sophia was already looking into her backpack to check up on her kwami. The Planning Smirk had grown to face-splitting proportions as she started giggling menacingly and hurrying to the exit.

“[Don’t you dare! Our visas don’t cover terrorism! Sophia! Stop! Come back here! SOPHIA!]” Alex shouted with growing worry as she chased her partner out of the gallery and onto the street, drawing concerned looks from the tourists they passed.

Sophia knew it was a bad idea. But she was planning to just knock over some small trees, maybe pop a gate off its hinges, make as small a mess as possible as dramatically as possible. She could hear her partner crying hysterics behind her as she ran. As she rounded a corner looking for a rundown park to vandalize, she caught a momentary glimpse of a black butterfly with purple highlights fluttering past.

“[Oncoor! Surf’s up!]” Out of everything her partner had yelled, this is what stopped Sophia in her tracks. She knew Alex was upset with her for charging into her plan without thinking it through, but surely not enough to transform in the middle of the street just to chase her down.

An inhuman roar of rage, followed by panicked screams, was as clear an answer as she had ever received in her live. Her partner was pissed.

Alex stomped around the corner, eyes engulfed in hot blue fire. Her transformation’s usual silver scales were now a vibrant white with orange patches, both tipped with black. Instead of her trident, she carried a pair of oversized fishhooks with some nasty looking barbs.

“[Salmon? Fishy Cakes? Look, I know you’re mad-]” Sophia took a few steps back.

“I’VE HAD IT WITH YOU! ALWAYS RUNNING AHEAD LIKE NOTHING COULD GO WRONG! LET’S SEE YOU RUN ONCE I GET MY HOOKS INTO YOU!”

“[Salmon? What are you saying!?]” She cried, instinctively turning to run.

“I’M KILLER KOI NOW! AND YOU! ARE! FISH FOOD!”

Sophia broke into a full-on sprint, thankful that her many years holding a Miraculous meant that some of her powers had started leaking into her civilian form. While not superhuman, she could out pace and out last Olympians. Her angry partner was no match for her speed normally, but was now keeping pace with some effort.

“[Help!]”

“This Eutectic Point, circled on the graph on page sixty-seven, is the point at which the mixed liquid phase and both the alpha and beta solid phases have the same energy. If we modulate the concentration of the beta phase, we can force all of the alpha phase into liquid form by keeping the temp-“ Ms. Mendeleiev was interrupted by the sound of a crumbling building in the distance and no less than seven phones getting an akuma alert.

Marinette took a deep breath and began her escape.

“Oh my gosh an akuma this close to the school! I gotta hide!” She screamed with a well-rehearsed look of panic plastered on her face. She didn’t care if her classmates thought she was a coward. With as many close calls she had experienced in her civilian form, she felt more than justified given the circumstances and would defend herself as such.

Alya didn’t even bother making an excuse and ran off. Adrien took advantage of her predictable behavior.

“Alya! You can’t just run off like that.” He said just loud enough that she would not hear as he ran after her. Another collapsing building echoed nearby, which got the rest of the class moving.

Some quick transformations later and Chat Noir was running along the rooftops with Ladybug swinging up from the street below. It didn’t take them long to find the akuma and the woman she was chasing.

“Wow, she can run.” Chat said as Ladybug threw her yoyo to swing down to save the woman. Grabbing her, she recognized the woman as one of the tourists they had helped.

“[I need a place to hide!]” She pleaded.

Ladybug could barely understand her through her distressed tone but swung back up to the rooftops.

“Chat!” Ladybug called to her partner while she pointed to a stairwell door, not wanting to verbally give away her plan. They got to the door at the same time and closed in behind them as softly as they could to not draw the attention of the akuma. The tourist put her hands on her knees to catch her breath.

“[Do you know why the…um, monster, attacked you?]” Ladybug asked, searching for a word to use for ‘akuma.’

“[She…was mad…that I left her behind.]” She said between panting. Ladybug quickly translated for Chat.

“That seems like a lame reason to get akumatized.” He said with suspicion. This tourist was recovering surprisingly fast from having just set a land speed record, he noticed. Ladybug elected not to translate it back.

“[Alright, I’m ready. Let me just get my work clothes on.]” She said to a confused Ladybug. Surly she had misheard.

“[Itippa! Full steam!]” A brown streak flew from her backpack to her ear and she erupted into light. A second later, the tourist had been replaced with a masked hero much like themselves. She wore a skin-tight suit made of brown velvet, over which she wore a crop top leather jacket and a wide belt that was buckled with a large brass cog. Old fashioned welding goggles sat on her forehead in front of the stubby beginnings of antlers. Attached to her wrists were a pair of brass hooves that could flip down to cover her hands.

“Much better. We need to be careful with this fight. She’s pissed, but she’s still my partner. I’m Moose, by the way.”

Ladybug and Chat Noir stared in shock at how openly another Miraculous holder had just transformed in front of them and seemed to instantly learn their language.

“You kids alright? All I did was…ooooh. Right. Should probably explain that.” The French heroes nodded, wanting to know more.

“I don’t mind transforming in front of you guys. You don’t know my name and only know I’m from America. Go ahead and try guessing my identity. As for how you can understand me, active Miraculous holders can always understand each other. Learned that one on a trip to Mexico City. I’m actually still speaking English.”

She sure was talkative and it was a lot to take in, but they were used to weird things happening around them. When you fight people that use powers ranging from anti-love to pigeons, strange becomes the new normal.

“So that means Eagle doesn’t actually speak French.” Chat concluded.

“No, Eagle was French to begin with. You would think his suit was meant to be all patriotic, but it’s actually the French flag. How is my little fledgling, anyway? He’s why we came to Paris and…and why Salmon got mad at me…” She deflated a bit.

“I wanted to fake an attack to draw out Eagle. Just big enough to raise the alarm, then put everything back when he arrived. I didn’t think Salmon would get mad enough to corrupt her Miraculous.” Moose apologized. She absently rubbed her hands together, clinking her hoof guards occasionally.  

“It was Hawkmoth that did it. He sends out evil butterflies to make people his minions by amplifying their negative emotions. All we have to do is find what object the akuma is hiding in and break it.” Ladybug explained. It felt weird having to explain it after so much time dealing with akumas. But here she was, explaining for the second time this week.

“Do you know of anything that she was holding that would be important to her?” Chat continued where Ladybug had left off.

“The earring on her left ear is fake. I made to match her Miraculous to even out her look so she wouldn’t have to take it off all the time to not look lopsided. It was an anniversary gift, so I’d say that’s pretty important.” Moose said while stepping back out onto the roof, boots clinking as the brass hoofprint on her heels met the surface. Killer Koi was nowhere in sight, but the angry roar being carried on the wind pointed them in the right direction.

Chat Noir’s ears had perked up, interested in the implied relationship.

“Anniversary? Are you two…“ He could not help but ask as he built up momentum to cross to the next roof.

“We’re married, yes. The superhero program is legally a scholarship for a university that doesn’t exist, so we get more money if we’re married. Might as well elope, right? So we did what any pair of dishonest scholarship elopers would do and played along with the pet names, hugs, backrubs, little kisses, stuff like that. A couple months in we realized it was real and we never looked back.” It was clearly a story she liked to tell.

Ladybug could practically hear the wheels spinning in Chat’s head, even over the sound of her yoyo chord. She knew full well that he was going to redouble his flirting now that he had evidence of partners-in-justice becoming more.

Chat Noir, to his credit, did not immediately launch into a flurry of pickup lines.

Amoux had a hard time finding a place to transform. His classmates had so much more experience finding the nooks and crannies in the school building that he gave up and found an alley way instead. Scanning for any open doors or windows, he opened his bag to poke at a snoring ball of feathers.

“[Avees, wake up.]”

“[Hero time? Bit early. Sun’s still up.]” Avees stretched with a tiny yawn.

“[New city, new hours. Now get it in gear and let’s go.]” With that little pep talk, the tiny eagle lazily floated out of his bag on outstretched wings. One more yawn and Avees nodded that he was ready.

“[Avees! Wings up!]” He whisper-yelled, lifting his arms as if taking his own command. The kwami became a black streak as it shot towards his collar.

Unlike any other hero he had met, Amoux had found his Miraculous at a young age. He and Avees were coming up on their tenth year together. The kwami had explained to him that transformations become more and more complete over time, with total transformation into an eagle taking a lifetime to happen. Changes in form happened in stages, and he was on the third stage. While each stage became more powerful, most Miraculous holders freaked out and/or retired before they got too far. Learning how to shoot his bow using heavily modified feet had been tricky but worth it for the magical accuracy that came with it.

As Amoux became Eagle, his arms melted away to become wings. He flapped to get off the ground before his feet became talons. Not long after, he knees bent backwards. The familiar sensation of feathers growing all over his body was accompanied by the sudden weight of a quiver on his hip. Taking a moment to adjust to his altered anatomy, he hears the telltale sounds of destruction becoming more distant.

Eagle gives an almighty flap of his wings to shoot out of the alley way and into the air. He surveyes the damage done by the latest akuma victim, flying wide circles over the destruction. Following the warpath carved through Paris, he quickly finds a university aged woman wearing a competition swimsuit with white fish scales running a quarter of the length of each limb. The glint off the sharp point of one of her fishhooks nearly blinds his sensitive eyes.

Remembering the unfortunate habit of his old teammate’s trident doing the same thing gave him a rattling thought.

“I guess all super powered fish like to make my eyes sizzle.” He said to himself with closed eyes, dreading the idea of having to fight someone with Salmon’s powers. His quiver vibrated to signify an incoming call, saving him from the terrible thought. But wait, Ladybug and Chat Noir’s Miraculous belonged to a completely different set. How could they be calling him?

Kicking the bottom of the quiver to accept the call, a screen extended on a telescoping rod to give him a better angle on it.

“Hey, Eagle. Long time no see.” Moose said through the phone, the background of the video call a rapidly bobbing horizon. Her voice was bright but her nervousness was palpable. Eagle flinched hard enough to send himself into a tailspin.

“What are you doing here?! Whose covering Seattle?”

“Earthquakes don’t happen every day, you know. We can go on vacation without the city falling into the sea…again.” The gasp behind Moose told him that she at least had Ladybug with her. But there was no ‘the second time wasn’t my fault’ in the background. Salmon took every opportunity to defend her honor whenever the Great Floods came up in conversation.

“…Moose, where’s Salmon?” He squinted at the screen. Not to read her face, but to convey his suspicion.

“About that…You got eyes on the fish monster thing?”

Eagle turned to confirm he had not lost his target. He did not like where this conversation was going.

“That’s Salmon.”

Moose closed the phone built into her hoof guards to the sound of a continues string of colorful curses. She knew that Eagle was going to give her a stern lecture once this all blew over.

“You get the location from him?” Chat asked.

“No, but I can practically hear him splitting quills from here. Hang a right.” She kicked off a chimney to make the turn, knocking off a layer of loose mortar.

“We need to keep her out of the river. Call the police and have them set up a two-block perimeter along the north bank. I’d do it myself, but they would probably prefer a hero they know speaking actual French.”  Moose continued. Ladybug rolls her eyes as she pulls up the one cop on her contacts list she was on a first name basis with. So much for the ground rules.

“Officer Roger, it’s Ladybug. I need a huge favor…” She didn’t seem confident it would happen.

“Local police that bad, huh?” Moose asked Chat.

“It’s more like we don’t have the authority. The police set up barricades how they want, usually to protect landmarks.”

“Europe is weird.” That was all Moose had to say about that.

“I know, right? Ladybug can fix anything once the fight is over, so I don’t see why they bother.”

“I take it back. Europe is awesome!” She had been wondering how Paris repaired things so fast.  

A few rooftops later, Ladybug had finished her call. It was only then she realized how far ahead she was. Moose was dragging behind, with Chat keeping her pace to be a gentleman.

“Something wrong? I get it if you don’t want to fight your wife, but we need to get going.” She could see Eagle circling in the distance. The akuma must have traveled halfway across Paris by now.

“She needs me. You couldn’t keep me out of this fight if you tried. I’m just not used to these super even rooftops. I usually use the kickplates mounted on the sides of skyscrapers to get around. Or run on the street in the bus lane. Whichever’s faster.” Moose hid her jealousy of the tools at the French heroes’ disposal. All she could so was punch, kick, and headbutt things real hard. Great for sending stuff into orbit, not so great for getting around town.

“Well, isn’t this interesting. I’ve never had the pleasure of bringing a Miraculous holder under my wing.” Hawkmoth said to Killer Koi through the pink laser mask that appeared in front of her face. It had taken far too long to establish a link with his newest minion.

“Shut up, old man. I’m not here to go your dirty work for you.”

He pecked through her surface memories, looking for something to use. Alone in his lair, he grimaced when he found that she was gay. Hawkmoth chose his words carefully.

“It seems you’ve had a bit of a lover’s quarrel. She will surely have enlisted Ladybug and Chat Noir to her side by now. You will need to disable them by removing their Miraculous if you want to level the playing field.” He offered as advise, exerting as much of his control through the link as he could without resorting to inflicting pain. Miraculous holders were resistant and strong willed, it seemed, and could not be outright commanded to do his bidding.

“…Now that sounds like a plan I can get behind.” The laser mask faded as she went back to raining havoc upon the city.

She had lost sight of Sophia ages ago. That girl could be anywhere by now with that super speed she liked to brag about so much. Might as well keep destroying stuff to draw her out. She was about to leap up to smash an out of place red windmill when the cavalry arrived.

“If you wanted to see the Moulin Rouge that badly, all you had to do is ask.” Moose flirted as she did a perfect three point landing across the street. Despite the serious atmosphere, Ladybug couldn’t help but groan. Chat was taking mental notes, she just knew it.

“Just you and two shoobies? You really think you can stop me?!” Killer Koi challenged as she threw a fishhook at Moose. Thinking fast, Moose flicked her hoof guards into place and punched the hook. The hook was heavier than she thought it would be, stopping dead with a deafening metallic clang instead of being rebounded. And the force behind it just kept coming.

Maintaining the punch meant she was vulnerable to the leaping overhead smash coming down on her. She would have taken the hit had Chat Noir not extended his staff to knock Killer Koi out of the air.

Furious at the interference, she threw her other hook into a vicious spin along the ground to swipe Chat’s feet. The terrible sound of metal scraping pavement shot through his sensitive ears that were already ringing from the sound of the first hook, paralyzing him. Ladybug tackled him out of the way, landing on top of him in an all too familiar position.

“Oh, My Lady, how the tables have turned.” He said more out of habit than flirting. Seeing the spinning hook boomeranging back at them, he flipped Ladybug over his head to swap their positions to dodge.

“That’s better.” This cat never knew when to stop.

Ladybug heard Moose say something about how smooth he was under her breath as she sidestepped out of fending off the hook, sending it careening into a storefront before returning to its master. Pushing Chat off of her by his chin, Ladybug stood up to assess their strategy. There was no reason to drag out this fight.

Killer Koi wound up another attack but her balance was thrown off by two arrows clinking against her hooks. Up above, Eagle nocked another arrow but was hesitant to fire again.

“It’s unlike you to hold your shots.” Moose called up to him.

“Let’s see you shoot at a friend.” He answered in frustration, making Moose flinch.

Ladybug could tell that the longer the fight went on the more emotional damage would be done. This needed to end now, for the sake of their friendship.

“Lucky Charm!” Throwing her yoyo into the air to summon a helpful tool, she was caught off guard when a simple plank of red and black spotted wood appeared about her. Catching it as it fell into her arms she nearly dropped the cooked fillet of fish on top of it. It smelled heavenly.

Moose recognized the fillet for what it was. Depending on how badly her partner had been corrupted, it would either serve as the perfect bait or enrage her into a blind charge. Either way, it would make for the perfect trap. Stepping over to Ladybug, she took the fillet before the younger girl could find a way to use it.

“I’m gonna lead her into a trap with this. Be ready to hold her.” Before the French heroes could react, she was already down half way down the street. At least this time she had a plan.

“Honey! Look at this delicious grilled salmon I’ve got! I’m gonna eat it. All. By. My. Self.” She held the plank above her head as she taunted Killer Koi with it.

“YOU WOULDN’T DARE!” The flames burning from her eyes went from blue to white, doubling in size. Embedding her hooks in the pavement, she charged.

Moose nodded back to the younger heroes, who had taken up positions to grab the akuma. She ran back to them, fillet held high, in a wide arc to keep Killer Koi from seeing the trap until it was ready to be sprung. Depositing the plank on the ground between Ladybug and Chat Noir, Moose jumped high so she would land behind her partner.

Killer Koi ungracefully dove to grab the fish, clamoring to her knees to begin eating like a starved animal. Chat grabbed an elbow and Ladybug followed suit.

“Hey! I was eating that! It’s mine!” She struggled against them but the held firm. Realizing she had no safe way of breaking the earring without giving her partner a super powered love tap to the side of the head, Moose went with the only alternative she could think of. Grabbing Killer Koi’s head from behind, she twisted to present the left ear to the sky.

“Eagle! The earring!”

“I can’t do that! It’ll take her whole ear off!” His arrows were larger than the target. Collateral damage was inevitable.

“We don’t have much choice, do we?” It was taking all her might to hold her partner still.

Eagle steeled himself for what he had to do.

“Eagle Eye!” Activating his ability, the arrow nocked on his bow glowed as he drew the string.

Chat blinked. Something warm splattered on his gloved hand. An arrow was sunk into the street up to the fletching, a black butterfly fluttering out of the small crater. The woman he was restraining went limp as dark purple smoke rolled over her.

Ladybug made quick work of purifying the akuma.

“Pssh ow ow ow ow ow.” Alex held the icepack to her ear. She had fainted after the fight and was only now waking up after several hours. Her memory of her time as Killer Koi was foggy, but she remembered enough.

“[That’s it, I’m going to a different salon for piercings.]” She joked as she sat up in the bed she had been deposited in. Sophia was napping with her head in her lap, curled up to where her body had been.

Looking around she saw a sizable and well-furnished room, much fancier than the hotel they had been staying at. The seal of the United States Embassy hung on the wall above the dresser opposite the bed. A set of passports and visas sat on the night stand next to nearly empty bowls of almonds and chocolate.

“[Morning, beautiful.]” A sleepy Sophia said from her lap. She would have leaned down to plant a kiss on her forehead if a small gray mermaid had not flown into her face.

“[Girl, don’t scare me like that! You got hurt so bad that I-I…]” Oncoor burst into theatrical tears. Alex pet the mermaid with her free hand.

“[Whole ear’s still here. See? It just stings.]” She pulled away the ice pack momentarily, feeling her cold ear to make sure she wasn’t lying. It was painful, but intact.

“[You can thank Ladybug for that. They should be back to meet us in the lobby soon.]” Sophia said while checking the time.

“[Back from where?]” Alex wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but she thought at least one of the French heroes would have stayed.

“[Turns out all three of them still go to school. I’m starting to wonder how old Eagle is.]”

Sophia stretched and wiggled her way to the edge of the bed to stand up.

“[We need to suit up. Ambassador Zeya wanted to talk to you.]”

Two transformations and an escort to the ambassador’s office later, they were informed that they were not in any legal trouble. Zeya made it clear that Salmon was the victim. Once that was settled, they were taken to the lobby to wait for the other heroes to arrive. No less than four guards joined them.

“[Are the bodyguards necessary? I’m pretty sure we can defend ourselves if need be.” Salmon wondered aloud as she sat down.

“[No offence, Agent Salmon, but you just leveled a quarter of Paris. The citizens of this city are quick to forgive, but they’ll need time to feel safe again. You will be under observation for the time being.]” Said the shorter and burlier guard. Salmon wanted to sink through the floor.

“So this is what you look like.” Chat Noir said as he and Ladybug carried Eagle in through the front door and sat him down in a chair, resting his legs on the table. Eagle was used to such treatment, having attended press conferences at indoor venues. Being carried was more dignified than being pushed around on a cart, at least.

“How’s the ear?” Eagle asked once he was situated.

“Stings real bad, but getting better. From what I remember it was not an easy shot. Good to see that you’re not getting rusty in your retirement.” She readjusted her swim cap to stop it from pressuring her ear.

“And you, Little Miss Polka-Dot, deserve a hug for fixing it.” Salmon lifted a startled Ladybug as she stood, spinning the girl around before losing her footing and tumbling over. Her balance was still recovering.

The heroes talked well into the night, sharing stories of daring-do. After a competitive game of ‘My Supervillain Could Beat Up Your Supervillain’ the guards stepped in to ask them to head home.

“Right. I’ve still got an essay to finish. How long will you be in town?” Ladybug asked, getting ready to carry Eagle outside.

“At least a day or two. Need to do some community service to recover Salmon’s PR.” Moose said. They hadn’t checked the news yet but it would take a major, earthshattering headline to overshadow Salmon’s brief conversion to the dark side.

They said their goodbyes before being escorted back to their room by a very confused looking pair of guards.

Agent Dunn had seen more than his fair share of strange occurrences in his time at the embassy. Paris had become rife with oddities in recent years, not to mention the bizarre customs of foreign dignitaries that he was assigned to protect.

This night had been particularly strange. It was unprofessional to do so, but he needed someone to talk about it with.

Once his shift was over, he pulled one of the other guards that had shared his assignment aside. Agent Duncan seemed to share his desire to discuss the matter. They talked in hushed whispers as they made their way home.

“[I never thought I would see the day when keeping tabs on five teenagers in furry getup would be official business.]”

“[No kidding. And what were they speaking, anyway? Sounded like French but it was all English words.]”

“[It sounded like English with French words to me.]”

“[They must have some techo-magic-whatever doing it. Except for that Eagle guy. He stuck with one language at a time.]”

“[But did you see his knees? I get that bird knees are backwards but that has got to be the weirdest thing I have ever seen.]”

They continued on like that all the way to the Metro station.

Marinette was late to class the next morning. Not by much, but enough to get a sideways glance from Miss Bustier. They had come to an informal agreement to let it slide if the lecture had not started yet, allowing for about forty seconds of grace period once the bell rang. Unlike most students with truancy issues, Marinette actually tried to be on time.

“Alright, now that we’re all here, please pass your Voltaire essays to the front.”

Mainette’s throat went dry. The essay was on her desk at home, forgotten in her scramble to make it on time. Miss Bustier read her like a book and sighed.

“Marinette, we can’t keep doing this. If it’s not on my desk by the end of the lunch break, you will have failed the assignment.”

She felt small, wanting nothing more than for the lesson to begin so her classmates were not focused on her failure to remember things. Chloe had other ideas and pounced.

“You might as well give up now, Marinette. No fashion designer would ever hire someone as flaky and incompetent as you.”

She knew that she shouldn’t let Chloe get to her. But those words hurt. It took everything she had to keep herself from crying. Alya rested a reassuring hand on her shoulder but it didn’t help.

The sound of wood scraping tile behind her startled her from the downward spiral she was feeling.

“Adrien. I need your desk.” Amoux commanded as he stomped down the steps. He had watched these girls for some time now, wanting them to sort it out for themselves. But he’d had enough. Adrien had just managed to pull his note pad to the side before he hopped up to sit on the desk, facing Chloe so he was looking down at her.

Amoux closed his eyes and looked upward as he took a long breath. Snapping down to look Chloe right in the face, he opened his eyes and began to read every aspect to Chloe’s being.

It was the most piercing gaze Miss Bustier had ever seen. She knew she should take control of the situation, but a small part of her wanted to see what was about to happen. Rumors of his skill had reached the teacher’s lounge. He was said to work wonders.

Chloe froze, unable to break away from him once he had locked eye. The anticipating silence in the room had become electric, as if lightning could strike any moment. When Amoux spoke, his voice flowed like warm water, washing over everyone listening.

“Why do you do this? What joy do you derive from the despair of others? Has it truly been so long since you have felt loved that this has become your only source of happiness?” His voice was even, calm, and slow, without a hint of the anger that had initiated this forced therapy session.

“I-I don’t know what you mean. Daddy l-l-loves me.” Chloe stammered. Her face ran through a sea of emotions, betraying her racing thoughts. She could feel his eyes bore through her mind. The more she resisted, the more was brought to bear as she tried not to think of certain memories.

“You used to be such a sweet little girl. You lived with your loving mother in a small apartment away from your father, having been too young to remember the divorce. She was your guiding light. If not for her death, she would have become a shining beacon of hope for all of Paris. You were sent to live with your father, who knew nothing of raising children. He showered you with gifts but could do nothing to ease your pain.”

Marinette could feel her dark emotions flow out of her. It was as if Amoux’s voice had washed a thick layer of mud off her bones and poured it back into Chloe.

“Months passed. You constructed a mask of money to hide the pain you felt, buying your way out of your problems as your father did. Any friendships you had were twisted into relationships of abuse. You watched yourself become a wretched person and could do nothing to stop it. In time, you came to believe the mask was the true Chloe.”

Chloe faltered under the weight of the critique, a single choked sob escaping her throat. Yet she could not look away, as if held in place by an invisible hand.

For a brief moment, Amoux considered stopping there, leaving Chloe to fend for herself in the bottomless pit of emotions he had hurled her into. But he could see the gentle soul within her, buried under a decade of guilt and loneliness.

“You had nearly forgotten what kindness was until a hero appeared. Ladybug reminded you that it was possible, even pleasant, to give yourself freely to others. Memories of your mother came flooding back to you, taking you back to a time before the money had made you cruel. For the first time in years, the mask slipped. You saw what you had become and hated yourself for it. Not knowing what to do, you put the mask back on and tried to forget. But it kept slipping. Just last night, you cried yourself to sleep from the regret of what you had done.”

Chloe did not know when she started crying, but her tears had washed away the makeup that hid the dark circles under her eyes caused by a restless night.

“You want to be a better person, someone you mother could be proud of. That is why you focus so heavily on Marinette, hoping to learn from her example. You see so much of your mother’s kindness in her that it hurts. Nothing would make you happier than to be her friend. But the mask is not easy to remove. On days you manage to show your true face, you can’t bring yourself to even look at her. You remember how you have tormented her and put the mask back on to save yourself from being crushed by the regret.”

Marinette could feel her heart explode with sympathy. She didn’t know how she was going to forgive Chloe for the last four years, but she was willing to try.

Amoux released his gaze and his hold on Chloe, who fell out of her seat into the aisle. By the time she hits the floor she is bawling. After a few seconds of trying, the first thing she did once she got a leg under her was to throw herself up the steps to Marinette’s bench. Chloe looked up at the girl with wet eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Marinette. I just wanted what you had. That selfless kindness…it was too beautiful to watch.” It was the most genuine thing Marinette had ever heard her say. Seeing Chloe humble herself like that made her heart explode a second time. She slid down to the end of the bench and lifted Chloe into a tentative embrace, letting her cry.

“You have a long way to go before you become the person you want to be. Marinette can show you the way, but only you have the power to change yourself for the better.” Amoux concluded as he walked around the girls to return to his desk. Sabrina made her way over to comfort Chloe, hugging her around her midsection.

Miss Bustier could not believe what she had witnessed. In the span of seven minutes, Chloe had gone from a textbook example of a bully to a sobbing apologetic mess. In the years she had taught this class she had been powerless to do anything about the mayor’s daughter in fear of losing her job, or worse, getting the school shut down. But here was this boy, breaking her down and building her back up with a gentle ferocity.

“…Right, the lesson. Um…Never mind. Please read the next chapter for your homework tonight. Class dismissed.” Amoux was a tough act to follow.

It took a moment for the class to realize that they could leave. It took a moment longer for them to decide if they wanted to leave. Miss Bustier had to motion to the door to get them going. Once most of the students had shuffled out, she got to work dealing with the aftermath.

“Amoux, Chloe. You should come with me to the headmaster’s office. You can come if you want, Marinette. And Alya, I would like you to delete the video you just recorded. I don’t even know if you did or not, just delete it.”

Alya gave no protest as she ended the livestream and deleted the recording.

  Author’s notes:

-So, Alex and Sophia are kinda based on my friends whom I ship IRL. (Don’t worry, they were thrilled when I clued them in about being superheroes. Jury’s still out on the shipping)

-I make no claim of understanding for how embassies work. Like a hotel with more security?

-It felt incredibly good to destroy Chloe like that.

-Chapter 3 is a definite MAYBE. posted.

<<Chapter 1 , Chapter 3>>

[okreadyscenarios]

Astro Ships: literal-ktrash

Hi Hi Nessa~. I'm not good at this but here I go~ hehehe. For ship request: I would say I'm an optimistic person, but if I'm in a bad mood I'm more of a realist. I enjoy all subjects, but my favorites are astronomy, physics, and anything having to do with writing/english. I'm a perfectionist with body-image issues (regarding myself) and am a bit too judgmental/critical of myself. I cry both when I'm sad and frustrated, and I'm a ball of emotions. I love cringey humor and puns, and I laugh a lot!

I wouldn't say I have a hard time making friends when I try, I just get lost in my own head when I'm in public and don't really approach people. I can't go anywhere without music, it's my lifeline (I basically only listen to KPop nowadays, but I used to listen to Pop and Hard Rock).

I really want to be an international english teacher, because I love learning other languages and understanding other cultures, and I believe english is the language that binds people around the world since it's used for business and the like~, so I believe it's important to learn at least some. I also love writing and have a love for poetry and novels - my dream is to write a poetry book in at least 3 languages one day.

I think anything is possible (even aliens! our universe is so big! how could they not be real?) and encourage people to dreams with all their hearts, so they can give their life their all! I care deeply for my friends and constantly worry about them, and I'm usually the "mom friend". I've been through depression and have relapses every now and then.

I know it sounds weird, but I can sense ghosts (O.O) - which is why I'm nervous around hospitals, I get all freaked out, my head hurts and my chest feels heavy when I'm in one. I'm also afraid of driving (which I'm working through now!). I believe people have lived many lives, that our souls get another chance to live if our past lives have been short or have been taken away from us too soon. I'm afraid of never finding love and ending up alone in my old age.

I also think everyone has soulmates - family, friends, and lovers, the people in your life are around you for a reason~ and maybe they've known you in another life! I'm a huge LGBTQ+ supporter. I'm not very religious, but I believe the only way to find god is through all religions - having the ability to see the world through as many people's eyes as possible, and understand those around us.

I think everyone deserves respect, from your grandmother to the local drug addict in jail, we're all just humans trying to figure out how to live ^-^. I love all animals (I actually spent like 10 minutes yesterday holding a lizard and calling him "friend"😂), but my favorites are dogs, cats, and horses. I've been a horseback rider for about 7 years and never get tired of it. I tried every sport under the sun in middle school, but never got the hang of basketball (I'm too short 0w0).

I used to get hit with the ball in soccer and volleyball, so I'm a bit scared of sports balls now. I'd rather be called cute/adorable than hot/sexy any day, and I melt when people give me pet names~. I want to learn to sing, dance, kick box, and pole dance (interesting combo, right?). I couldn't tell you what my favorite color is, I don't like discriminating against other colors (kekeke).

I also can't pin a favorite ice cream flavor, but I think eating ice cream with company makes it taste better (goes for any food honestly!). I want to travel a lot when I get older, taking pictures of scenery and cultures. I ADORE nature, and would choose the mountains over the beach any day! I love winter and I'm not a huge fan of the sun/heat. I'm a huge mommy's girl, she's my best friend and I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for her~.  

I blush easy and have never been in a relationship/on a date (^////^) so I'm quite innocent. My spirit animal is Stitch (since my birthday is 6/26 and he is Experiment 626!!) and I also just really love Stitch! I don't think I have an ideal type, but I want someone funny, who loves me for me ^^. Sorry if this was all over the place! I tried my best *hides my face* (I would like to apologize for how long this was~ hehehe ^\\\^)

((It’s quite alright, dear! ^u^ I tried to use as much info from your request as I could, but I was worried to make it too long;; I hope this is alright! <3))

I ship you with JinJin! <3

Explanation + Fluff:

OKAY LISTEN I KNOW WHAT YOU’RE THINKING;;

BUT IT’S NOT JUST BC HE’S YOUR BIAS >o<;;

you guys are just rly good at picking compatible biases??

but honestly JinJin’s perfect for you <3

he reminds you not to be so hard on yourself

and to love yourself, you know~?

you love him unconditionally and he does the same for you~

you two are a good balance for each other

bc JinJin’s rly optimistic too

but sometimes it can blind him a lil bit?

so you help him remember to see things realistically

and he helps you remember to look on the bright side of things

idk it’s just super cute~~ <33

the way you two actually meet is adorable

JinJin really wants to improve his English

since he’s the leader and he wants to be able to communicate with Aroha better and everything

so someone at fantagio hires you

and you’re like YES now I can teach English in Korea this is so cool omg

but PLOT TWIST

you’re teaching English to the members of Astro :D

OH BOy;;

everything’s going great~

but in your sessions with them JinJin just seems to not be getting it?

so you pull him aside after the lesson and ask him if he’s having trouble with anything

and he’s like no no it’s fine

and you don’t believe him for a second bc he’s acting rly weird

and then he just kind of blurts out

“do you wanna go out sometime?”

and you’re like O///O

and he’s like >///>

he starts rambling about how he kept daydreaming in class about going out with you and if you two actually go on a date then maybe he can concentrate

and you cut him off with a small “sure”

and he’s like “... uh, great!”

so he takes you out to a cafe

and you two have coffee and talk about life

and as you talk he just slowly falls for you even more

he thinks your views on life are really beautiful

after a while he offers to walk you home

and you let him

and it’s kind of silent as you’re walking

and then once you get to your place

he says to you (in English) “can we do this again?”

and you’re so surprised

like he said it so fluently

you’re like (in English) “of course we can”

and he smiles and kisses your cheek

and he’s like (in English) “see you tomorrow~”

aaaaand from that day on he does much better in lessons...

and you two kind of have a thing~ <3

alright now time for other cute stufffffff

ok but his sense of humor is right up your alley

like he will absolutely text you puns throughout the day

and cheesy pick-up lines

but he’s actually surprised that you seem to love it?

and text them back??

like i think in that moment he realizes you’re “the one”

he’s also super duper supportive of your writing

like he always says that someday he can’t wait to tell people he knew you before you were a bestselling author <3

don’t think this man won’t buy you a Stitch onesie bc he 100% will;;

or if not a onesie, then he’ll totally get you and himself matching Stitch key chains <3

and sometimes he’ll try and do aegyo by imitating Stitch...

it usually doesn’t go well;;;;

but you find it cute regardless~

bc everything he does is cute lbrh

will oftentimes ask to share earbuds with you

bc it lowkey makes him feel like you’re sharing a part of your mind with each other, you know?

he finds that to be a rly cool thing

and he loves your taste in music

whenever you're in public together he makes sure that you’re as comfortable as possible

whether it be talking to people for you, putting an arm around your waist or your shoulders, or taking a break somewhere secluded

your comfort and happiness is his no. 1 priority

he’s like your cuddly personal bodyguard <3

speaking of cuddly...

he loves wrapping you up in his arms

and resting his head on top of yours

kissing your forehead

he loves hugging you

and being the big spoon~

playing with your hair

and just spending time with you honestly <3

he’s always there to comfort you

whenever you’re sad or frustrated

he’s there with ice cream, hugs, and comfy sweaters~

I AM A FIRM BELIEVER THAT A HUG FROM ACTUAL TEDDY BEAR PARK JINWOO CAN CURE ANY SADNESS IN THE WORLD;;

he also loves it when you “mother” him

like telling him to bundle up or eat dinner

he rly needs a nurturing person like you in his life

and loves getting those reminders that you care~

STARGAZING DATES <3

just laying down together on a blanket spread on the grass

crickets chirping and owls hooting

pointing out different constellations

and you look over

and see him staring at you

so you’re like

“what?”

and he’s like

“nothing, you’re just so much more dazzling than the stars~”

and brushes your hair behind your ear

and you smack his arm and hide your face in his chest

bc HELLO?? >///<

but he just grins and hugs you

and even though it’s cheesy, you know he means it <3

he probably likes calling you silly things~~

like honey bun, cuddle muffin, ladybug, precious, sweet pea, etc...

he’s always told you that once he’s rich and famous, he’ll take you travelling anywhere you want to go

and eventually you do~

one of your destinations is Switzerland, and JinJin books a scenic tour of the Swiss Alps for you two

you two have been together for a while now

and he feels ready

so he bought a ring a few weeks ago

he’s been carrying it around since your world trip started, waiting for the right moment (and place) to do the thing

i’m sorry;; i just love travel proposals okay??? <3

and as you two hike along the trail, he looks over only to find that you’ve gone off the path

and are taking photos of this tiny cluster of purple flowers growing behind a small boulder

tucked away from the world

he comes over and admires your look of concentration while attempting to capture the small burst of beauty on the rocky trail

he thinks it’s just like you to find the good in an otherwise mundane setting

and he just smiles

and gets down on one knee right then and there

because he knows that he’s found his soulmate~ <333

This Astro Ship has the Nessa Seal of Approval ~  ☆

Ships now CLOSED <3

[amorremanet]

4, 31, 44

asks for fanfic writers.

Well, I did number 4 over here, and number 31 over here, but!

44. do you write linear or do you write future scenes if you feel like it?

I prefer to write linearly, but it often doesn’t get to work out that way. I also outline things a lot, but not always linearly either, and I do a lot of early draft scenes before I even know where it’s going to fit into things because I have an idea and want to get it down right away quick.

Like, one example of this happening lately was a direct result of me trying to come up with a superhero team name that hasn’t been used already and getting so frustrated that I just went, “Okay, screw it, I’m not looking at this anymore tonight or I’ll just give up and name them The Fighting Mongooses — which isn’t even my joke to use, it’s an old Futurama joke.”

The scene idea that grew out of that is basically my three main mutant weirdos — Seb, Lucy, and Josie — trying to figure out a team name. It is pretty much entirely Lucy’s idea because all three of them are sorta vaguely related to the FBI’s department of mutant affairs, but Seb and Lucy are recently awakened mutants who are sort of on a trial run and not planning to stay with the FBI in an official capacity,

and Josie is stuck filling a few different roles for S.T.R.O.M.A (primarily that of media liaison and de facto team therapist) as a result of how they got recruited in the first place (which involved them accidentally getting on the wrong side of what they were allowed to do with the, “I’m a mutant but I really just want to live my life and not be a bother to anyone, superheroic shit sounds really stressful, let’s not” license, and getting caught, and being handed an offer that basically went, “Hey, come be on our team on a consultancy basis and we’ll make the censures all go away”)

—but none of them really likes working with S.T.R.O.M.A, for several reasons, and Lucy, bless her heart, thinks they should have a team and work together to be heroes.

This is a Thing that some super-powered people do, and teams are registered and licensed like mutants are in general — which isn’t actually sinister so much as tedious, like?

It’s a fair point that, when we’re talking about people who can breathe fire and shoot fricking laser beams out of their eyes and whatnot, then that is not really the same thing as the government trying to make people register on the basis of their race/ethnicity, religion, sexuality, etc. Like, yes, a lot of the rhetoric that can be pulled out in justification of this can be Bad, but we are talking about people who can exhale toxic gases, mind-control people, shoot freaking eye lasers, walk through walls, etc.

That’s all stuff that has legitimate, immediate potential to harm people, and a potential way to compromise — trying to keep everyone safer without infringing unfairly on the rights and civil liberties of mutants — is to treat it like getting a driver’s license. Like, acknowledge that most people didn’t ask for mutant superpowers and it’s not something that they can help (but it’s also a little more complicated than, “you have the mutant X gene so it’s mutant superpowers fun-time, whee”), don’t blame them (especially in the cases where really young kids have freak accidents with powers that no one suspected they had, and especially because there’s a tendency for that to happen in situations with kids who are being bullied or abused)

—but also acknowledge that these powers do have the potential to do a lot of harm, both to the people who have them and to others, and try to do whatever possible to make sure that resources are provided for mutants so that they can learn to control their powers and have the licensing laws in place to make sure that they get said resources. (This is obviously VERY ideal and it doesn’t usually work out so neatly because we’re talking about the U.S. government trying to do things, and there are so many factors — money,  institutionalized isms, public opinion, grassroots campaigns on all sides, fuckery in Congress or the different state and local legislatures, list goes on — that make this go other than as planned on paper. But in an ideal world, this is how it would play out.)

So, in this world, getting a mutant license can be done at the DMV or the local Secretary of State’s office (if you live in some place like Michigan where we’re a bunch of hipster fucks who refuse to just have a DMV), and there are some tests to go through, to prove that you’re not going to lose control of your powers in potentially lethal ways and make sure you know certain legal rules (e.g., “hey, we get it that you did not ask to have mind control powers, but using them to make someone have sex with you? That’s rape. Don’t do that, rape is wrong and you’ll go to prison”).

There are more tests to go through if you want to get the superhero license, but it’s still more comparable to getting a license to drive a motorcycle or a school bus than any of the other metaphors for registration that we’ve seen in different X-Men stories.

Some teams are even Big Deals and have corporate sponsorship and everything. Their members are basically celebrities (at least, the ones who are Big Deals on the level of Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, Captain America, Iron Man, Ozymandias, or the old school Minutemen from Watchmen), and whether or not any of them are actually good at being superheroes anymore is a matter of some debate.

But in fairness, the smaller deal heroes affiliated with these teams are usually still doing the work, even if tools like Doctor Delphi pretty much have a few token acts of heroism, show up to NYC Pride every year, shoot commercials, and compulsively document their lives on Instagram, without doing any work that makes a meaningful difference at all.

Also, superhero comics and their related adaptations are still A Thing.

Like, I see where Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons were coming from by replacing the superhero comics with pirate comics — but I could also see people keeping superhero comics around even with irl mutant superheroes. You’d probably also see ex-heroes making memoir-style graphic novels, and not-that-thinly veiled versions of irl heroes showing up in the Batman or Hulk comics.

S.T.R.O.M.A has an entire sub-team whose primary job is going over comics, movies, YA lit, and all the rest to make sure that no one’s using, “lol fiction” to spill information that has a security clearance attached. They have a picture of Stan Lee on a dartboard because the sheer number of times they’ve had to investigate him is ridiculous. Their counterparts at MI6 have three filing cabinets just for JKR.

But Lucy is a really pumped up about this team idea, so she’s trying to get Seb (who is less than entirely jazzed about this concept but refuses to just let Lucy go do the thing on her own) and Josie (who has mixed feelings about the whole thing but is curious enough to come along for the ride) to help her come up with team names. Mostly, this involves the two of them shooting her ideas down as such:

Lucy: *suggests a name*

Seb: Marvel already has one of those.

Josie: Also, there are two real-life teams registered with that name and I think four different individual vigilantes.

Lucy: *suggests a different name*

Seb: DC got there first.

Josie: There aren’t any real world teams with that name, but it has been one of the most popular names independent vigilante names for five years running.

Lucy: *suggests, “The Crusaders”*

Seb: Ehhh, do we really want to invoke the Crusades? I mean, okay, the word sounds cool, but the Crusades were military campaigns of unlawful conquest and Islamophobic genocide. Ffs, did Sister Mary Ignatius stop teaching that in her history classes after I got forced out of St. Andrew’s or what?

Lucy: You actually paid attention in Sister Mary Ignatius’s history classes? Like, enough to remember them?

Seb: You didn’t?

Lucy: I had better things to do than give that old bat more than the bare minimum, Bastian. Like, y’know, extracurricular community college science classes because the science curriculum at St. Andrew’s was bullshit—

Josie: Let’s stay on topic. So, there’s already a fictional group that’s called the Crusaders, plus two real world teams, six indie vigilantes who call themselves. ‘the Crusader,’ and it’s also regularly found in weird compound names. I wish that I could bleach all memories of Captain Dick-Cheese Crusader from my mind, but alas, it doesn’t work that way.

And so on and so forth. Until they finally hit the point of Lucy going, “FINE. If you don’t like any of MY ideas, one of YOU suggest some already. jfc, you’re older than I am, why do I have to tell you both to be more proactive”

So, Seb suggests, “The Apostates” because it is the first word that comes to his mind aaaand…

Josie: While I am pleased to heard Seb suggest something first, there’s already a team registered by that name. They’re a bunch of alumni or former affiliates of Lehrer and Woodham who had various kinds of falling outs with the good Doctors, or had Yael and Elizabeth kick them off one of The Wardens or one of their other teams for some reason. Most of them are actually lovely people, but the one who calls himself Bocca Lupo is the woooooorst.

Seb: …Personal experience?

Josie: His civvies name is Danny Walker. He used to be a fashion photographer before he discovered his powers. He was my freshman year roommate at Pratt. We dated for a while in senior year—

Lucy: And he dumped you so now you’re bitter and being a pain in the ass about Seb’s suggestion because you’re still mad at him?

Josie: Oh, no. I dumped him. He wouldn’t stop acting like eating disorders are a joke after I told him that I have one to try and make him stop being like that to one of our classmates.

And then there was a bunch of backstory-expounding from Josie that tbh, isn’t going to end up in the full draft of this scene, ever, since it really needs to be spaced out more and woven into things a bit more naturally — but the endgame for the moment is still that any team names related to, “apostate” or, “apostasy” are vetoed in full because wow holy shit, Josie’s ex is a douchebag and that he’s one of the major players in the Brooklyn-based Apostates is really Not A Cool Thing

And I have no idea where this is going to fit into the story or when but

It’s a scene that I like and drafted out in my borderline-illegible longhand so I wouldn’t forget the idea

I forget how I wanted to wrap this post up, so

Uh…… *jazz hands*? yaaaaaay?

[amyddaniels]

Criminal Justice Advocate and Yogi Steven Medeiros is Taking Life's Challenges in Stride

Here, the above-the-knee amputee waxes on forgiveness, his yoga practice, and living life to the fullest.

On a breezy late-May afternoon in Berkeley, California, Steven Medeiros stands atop a craggy peak in Indian Rock park, a popular bouldering and hangout spot that overlooks the San Francisco Bay skyline. With a denim jacket flung across his shoulder and the wind in his face, the 42-year-old looks more like an Avenger or a GQ cover model than a UC Berkeley student. In a few weeks, Medeiros, who lost his left leg in a motorcycle accident when he was 25, will travel to Honolulu for a summer gig working on the ACLU of Hawaii’s Smart Justice Campaign, a national criminal justice initiative that aims to reduce the prison population and address prosecutorial accountability. An activist and advocate for police accountability and prison reform, Medeiros is pursuing a master’s degree at Berkeley’s Goldman School of Public Policy (ranked one of the country’s best) so he can effect change from the inside by helping to reimagine current systems and structures.

Listen to Steven talk about healing from complex trauma on YJ's The Yoga Show podcast.

Medeiros, who identifies as Latinx and Hawaiian, has both witnessed and experienced the oppressive, detrimental effects of the American criminal justice system on people of color and impoverished populations. Growing up in Fremont, a racially diverse city in the Bay Area, he was exposed early on to police harassment of his community. His mother, a single mom who suffered from addiction, was incarcerated for a drug offense when he was only four years old. With his father out of the picture, Medeiros went to live with his paternal grandparents, who raised him. Eight years later, newly released from prison, his mother was murdered—run down by a truck while walking home from her job at a fast-food restaurant in East Oakland. The case went unsolved, but witnesses say they saw the truck chasing her, suggesting it was a targeted attack. As an adolescent, the impact on Medeiros was monumental. “For the next nine years, I engaged in a lot of toxic behavior, hanging out with troublemakers, gang members, people from broken homes who were dealing with similar things that I could relate to,” he says.

see also How Restorative Yoga Can Help Heal Racial Wounding

In that time, Medeiros’s interactions with law enforcement shaped the trajectory of his career. When he was 21, he was assaulted by a police officer with a tire iron during a routine traffic stop. At 22, he was racially profiled and arrested “for being brown downtown,” he says—booked for public intoxication although he had not been drinking. “It was the first time I had truly felt helpless and powerless,” he says.

Twenty years later, his goal is to help make sure other people never have to feel that way. As a policy student, the issues he’s most passionate about are police and prosecutorial accountability, mass incarceration, and reentry for formerly incarcerated people. To that end, before enrolling in graduate school, Medeiros worked at the ACLU of Northern California as a program coordinator in the Organizing Department and now serves as a county commissioner for Alameda County, where he’s hoping to improve the challenges surrounding prisoner reentry at a local level.

see also How The Transformation Yoga Project is Helping Prisoners Find Peace

From Troubled Child to Changemaker

Forgiveness and family have been central to Medeiros healing from his childhood traumas. Being a compassionate and loving father to his daughter, Destiny, who at 23 has marched with him in Pride parades and Black Lives Matter protests, is his utmost priority. The like-minded duo share similar political opinions and that activist spark. On weekends, they can often be found restaurant hopping in San Francisco or exploring the outdoors. Medeiros has worked hard to instill values in Destiny such as tolerance and “not subscribing to shortcomings is what finally turned his life around.

Although he can recall a time not so long ago when he was considered a bad influence among his own family, Medeiros has grown into a role model for those who orbit him today. “His ability to be unapologetic in his stances—in his beliefs and values—has given me the courage to also live my life confidently and proudly,” says his cousin Sofia Dangerfield, who credits him with helping her two daughters grow into “open-minded little beings.”

“People always tell me, ‘You’re the most balanced person I know,’” for—for people who need it the most: people of color, women, LGBTQ folks—are being rolled back,” he says. He knows being a changemaker won’t be easy, but when overwhelm threatens to slow him down, his healing practices will help him power forward. “Equanimity, my favorite word, means having composure when things are chaotic and wild around you,” he says.

Here’s what else Medeiros had to say about what fires him up and keeps him cool—including police and prison reform, accessible yoga, and healing after a life-threatening injury.

see also This Yoga Sequence Will Reduce Stress and Boost Immunity

On Finding Yoga 

Between 18 and 22, I was really low. I had tried to turn my life around many times before, but I was always just addressing the symptoms of my problems, not the root of them. I’d stop hanging out with troublemakers, maintain a job, cease drinking and partying. But I was still angry and hurt. I hadn’t addressed the trauma of my childhood. Being an avid reader, I frequented bookstores, and I came across a yoga book. I had never heard of yoga, but I was really intrigued by what I read. I started to self-teach at home. It was challenging, and I like that. I’m a very physical person. I played competitive sports and practiced karate, so yoga was another challenge for me. I had felt so numb for the longest time—I didn’t feel alive. But every time I do yoga, I feel physically better. Things that I deal with, especially with what’s happening now with current events, tend to manifest physically—in my lower body, my jaw, and my shoulders. This practice has helped me release that, and I know it’s always going to work.

On Forgiveness 

My mother’s death had a profound effect on my life. I started questioning my self-worth. Was I destined to end up like my parents? As a teenager, I had yet to fully conceptualize the idea of choice and the role it would play in my life. After my mother died, I spiraled out of control.

I lost all interest in school and sports.

I began experimenting with drugs and alcohol and ran with the local gangs. My life looked bleak. At 22, I was exhausted and desperate for change, and I started the process of looking inward for solutions.

A message came to me that I had to forgive my parents.

Just like that, I forgave them wholeheartedly, and I felt different right away—a new person. I have never looked back. I not only forgave them for the things that they did and didn’t do, but I forgave others who had caused me trauma, and that included the people who killed my mother. I had been harboring so much anger and using that as fuel for some of the behaviors I was engaging in. But when I decided to forgive, I felt this complete release, and that allowed me to focus on other things. I jumped back into books and started down this path of self-help, deep introspection, and self-discovery. I decided to set aside anything I thought could be a distraction to me and my growth as a person and a father. I rekindled my relationship with my family, because in my youth, my “family” had become the streets. And when you’re in that, you think those people are your ride-or-dies, and they’re really not.

[Today] I talk to youths, and I tell them they’re more than the sum of their mistakes. Because of past actions, we think we don’t have a viable future given the systems in place. But I decided I wasn’t going to let that hinder me—that I was still worthy of having a good life of love despite my mistakes. So I had to forgive myself as well, which allowed me to live freely in the present with a new awareness of self and others. 

see also 4 Must-Try Restorative Poses—& How to Get the Most Support from Your Props

On Losing His Leg 

I never thought I’d make it to 18. And then my accident happened when I was doing good in life. I grappled with that. Because I felt like I had done the work. I was really upset and terrified I wouldn’t see my daughter again, because I wasn’t sure if I was actually going to live. And when I realized after a few surgeries that it was hopeful that I would, I started to think about how life would be. I remember watching TV just to study the biomechanics behind walking, because I knew I would have to learn how to walk again. I had all those normal human emotions and questions: Am I going to find somebody who loves me for me now? How is sex going to be? How is it going to be to get around and to do everyday things? Am I going to be able to go to college? Finish college? But I knew I was very fortunate to be alive, and I knew I’d still be able to do things—I didn’t have brain damage. I was young.

I had a newfound perspective on life. I had this joy that emanated from me. I felt a halo around me, this glow. It was palpable. People noticed it; I didn’t even have to tell them. They were drawn to me like a magnet. Everywhere I went, people would touch me and say something kind: “You’re beautiful.” “I would marry you in a second.” Random things. I was always smiling from ear to ear just because I was breathing.

I started school a little over a year after losing my leg. I was a good student before, but I was an even better student after. It made me look at my priorities a little better in understanding that life, just like that, can be gone. In a split second things can change. So I became very intentional with how I spent my time.

On Adapting His Practice

I had reservations after losing my leg that maybe I couldn’t do yoga anymore. Of course my practice was never the same, but it morphed. I got really into restorative yoga. Early on in my practice, I thought everything had to be perfect. And it’s not about that. Today we see people of all types and shapes and abilities practicing yoga and mine might not look as graceful as yours or even remotely like yours, but it’s still OK. My practice is my practice.

see also 6 Ways to Avoid Ableism in Yoga Classes

On Working Within The Political Justice System 

I grew up in a community that was harassed by police. But yet I have to work with the guy that runs the police, right? And I’ve been able to navigate that space pretty well. Somebody has to do it. If not me, then who? It’s a constant tug of war with me. I’m an impacted person.

I actually said to one of my professors, “I turned down this role to work for a mayor in Hawaii because the city was tearing down homeless encampments. You’re trying to get us to work in government, but how do I reconcile something that’s against my values?” She said, “But if not you, then who? We need smart.” She said we need people who are passionate about these issues in those roles.

see also Try This Restorative, Hip-Opening Yoga Sequence for Ultimate Rejuvenation

On The Challenges of Re-entry After Incarceration 

The communities where I grew up were over-policed and over-incarcerated. My mother was incarcerated and my younger brother has been in and out of prison for the past 11 years. My uncle was in prison for half his life. The way society and the criminal justice system are designed is that when people break a law and are convicted of a crime, they go to jail or prison—and when they get out, they’re expected to just go back and be productive members of the community. But there are all these barriers in place that essentially don’t allow them to successfully reintegrate. For instance, it’s very difficult to get a job if someone has a felony conviction. Housing is a huge problem: When people get out, they don’t have access to housing or they can’t qualify to rent something, because they have a criminal record. That is by design. It was intentional.

On Police and Prison Reform

The system was designed to disenfranchise a particular group, and it’s doing what it was intended to do. So when people say, “Oh, we need reforms,” [I ask] reforms of what? The system is working the way it was designed. We need to burn the system down and recreate it with everybody in mind. I’m not a visionary.

I want to do some transformative work, but it’s going to take visionaries to ask what this country would look like without police or prisons. Most people can’t fathom that. But we haven’t always had these things, and societies have lived in harmony without them. Yes, ours is unique because we have many different cultures and belief systems that make change challenging, but it’s doable.

On Body Confidence

My accident happened 17 years ago, and aside from the past few years, I hadn’t worn shorts all that time. I had a lot of insecurities about showing my prosthesis. I worried about people staring—what would they say, what would they think? But when I would visit Hawaii, it was OK. I was able to wear shorts and not feel those insecurities. But here, in the Bay Area, it was a struggle. I wanted to overcome it and I didn’t really know how to. I had been talking about it with people close to me for years and playing these stories in my head of the insecurity itself.

And one day, I went on a hike here in the Bay Area in shorts. Nobody was on the trail. Afterward, we went and had lunch in downtown Berkeley. Instead of putting my sweatpants back on to go eat in the restaurant, I decided to keep my shorts on. And yes, people looked, and children made comments, but that’s natural. It ended up not being a big deal. It was something that I had built up in my head. It didn’t come quick, but after that, here and there I would wear shorts, and it got easier and easier and easier, to the point where now I actually prefer it. The thing that I felt disempowered by, I feel empowered by now.

Practice Steven's sequence for keeping hope alive.

[krisiunicornio]

Here, the above-the-knee amputee waxes on forgiveness, his yoga practice, and living life to the fullest.

On a breezy late-May afternoon in Berkeley, California, Steven Medeiros stands atop a craggy peak in Indian Rock park, a popular bouldering and hangout spot that overlooks the San Francisco Bay skyline. With a denim jacket flung across his shoulder and the wind in his face, the 42-year-old looks more like an Avenger or a GQ cover model than a UC Berkeley student. In a few weeks, Medeiros, who lost his left leg in a motorcycle accident when he was 25, will travel to Honolulu for a summer gig working on the ACLU of Hawaii’s Smart Justice Campaign, a national criminal justice initiative that aims to reduce the prison population and address prosecutorial accountability. An activist and advocate for police accountability and prison reform, Medeiros is pursuing a master’s degree at Berkeley’s Goldman School of Public Policy (ranked one of the country’s best) so he can effect change from the inside by helping to reimagine current systems and structures.

Listen to Steven talk about healing from complex trauma on YJ's The Yoga Show podcast.

Medeiros, who identifies as Latinx and Hawaiian, has both witnessed and experienced the oppressive, detrimental effects of the American criminal justice system on people of color and impoverished populations. Growing up in Fremont, a racially diverse city in the Bay Area, he was exposed early on to police harassment of his community. His mother, a single mom who suffered from addiction, was incarcerated for a drug offense when he was only four years old. With his father out of the picture, Medeiros went to live with his paternal grandparents, who raised him. Eight years later, newly released from prison, his mother was murdered—run down by a truck while walking home from her job at a fast-food restaurant in East Oakland. The case went unsolved, but witnesses say they saw the truck chasing her, suggesting it was a targeted attack. As an adolescent, the impact on Medeiros was monumental. “For the next nine years, I engaged in a lot of toxic behavior, hanging out with troublemakers, gang members, people from broken homes who were dealing with similar things that I could relate to,” he says.

see also How Restorative Yoga Can Help Heal Racial Wounding

In that time, Medeiros’s interactions with law enforcement shaped the trajectory of his career. When he was 21, he was assaulted by a police officer with a tire iron during a routine traffic stop. At 22, he was racially profiled and arrested “for being brown downtown,” he says—booked for public intoxication although he had not been drinking. “It was the first time I had truly felt helpless and powerless,” he says.

Twenty years later, his goal is to help make sure other people never have to feel that way. As a policy student, the issues he’s most passionate about are police and prosecutorial accountability, mass incarceration, and reentry for formerly incarcerated people. To that end, before enrolling in graduate school, Medeiros worked at the ACLU of Northern California as a program coordinator in the Organizing Department and now serves as a county commissioner for Alameda County, where he’s hoping to improve the challenges surrounding prisoner reentry at a local level.

see also How The Transformation Yoga Project is Helping Prisoners Find Peace

From Troubled Child to Changemaker

Forgiveness and family have been central to Medeiros healing from his childhood traumas. Being a compassionate and loving father to his daughter, Destiny, who at 23 has marched with him in Pride parades and Black Lives Matter protests, is his utmost priority. The like-minded duo share similar political opinions and that activist spark. On weekends, they can often be found restaurant hopping in San Francisco or exploring the outdoors. Medeiros has worked hard to instill values in Destiny such as tolerance and “not subscribing to shortcomings is what finally turned his life around.

Although he can recall a time not so long ago when he was considered a bad influence among his own family, Medeiros has grown into a role model for those who orbit him today. “His ability to be unapologetic in his stances—in his beliefs and values—has given me the courage to also live my life confidently and proudly,” says his cousin Sofia Dangerfield, who credits him with helping her two daughters grow into “open-minded little beings.”

“People always tell me, ‘You’re the most balanced person I know,’” for—for people who need it the most: people of color, women, LGBTQ folks—are being rolled back,” he says. He knows being a changemaker won’t be easy, but when overwhelm threatens to slow him down, his healing practices will help him power forward. “Equanimity, my favorite word, means having composure when things are chaotic and wild around you,” he says.

Here’s what else Medeiros had to say about what fires him up and keeps him cool—including police and prison reform, accessible yoga, and healing after a life-threatening injury.

see also This Yoga Sequence Will Reduce Stress and Boost Immunity

On Finding Yoga 

Between 18 and 22, I was really low. I had tried to turn my life around many times before, but I was always just addressing the symptoms of my problems, not the root of them. I’d stop hanging out with troublemakers, maintain a job, cease drinking and partying. But I was still angry and hurt. I hadn’t addressed the trauma of my childhood. Being an avid reader, I frequented bookstores, and I came across a yoga book. I had never heard of yoga, but I was really intrigued by what I read. I started to self-teach at home. It was challenging, and I like that. I’m a very physical person. I played competitive sports and practiced karate, so yoga was another challenge for me. I had felt so numb for the longest time—I didn’t feel alive. But every time I do yoga, I feel physically better. Things that I deal with, especially with what’s happening now with current events, tend to manifest physically—in my lower body, my jaw, and my shoulders. This practice has helped me release that, and I know it’s always going to work.

On Forgiveness 

My mother’s death had a profound effect on my life. I started questioning my self-worth. Was I destined to end up like my parents? As a teenager, I had yet to fully conceptualize the idea of choice and the role it would play in my life. After my mother died, I spiraled out of control.

I lost all interest in school and sports.

I began experimenting with drugs and alcohol and ran with the local gangs. My life looked bleak. At 22, I was exhausted and desperate for change, and I started the process of looking inward for solutions.

A message came to me that I had to forgive my parents.

Just like that, I forgave them wholeheartedly, and I felt different right away—a new person. I have never looked back. I not only forgave them for the things that they did and didn’t do, but I forgave others who had caused me trauma, and that included the people who killed my mother. I had been harboring so much anger and using that as fuel for some of the behaviors I was engaging in. But when I decided to forgive, I felt this complete release, and that allowed me to focus on other things. I jumped back into books and started down this path of self-help, deep introspection, and self-discovery. I decided to set aside anything I thought could be a distraction to me and my growth as a person and a father. I rekindled my relationship with my family, because in my youth, my “family” had become the streets. And when you’re in that, you think those people are your ride-or-dies, and they’re really not.

[Today] I talk to youths, and I tell them they’re more than the sum of their mistakes. Because of past actions, we think we don’t have a viable future given the systems in place. But I decided I wasn’t going to let that hinder me—that I was still worthy of having a good life of love despite my mistakes. So I had to forgive myself as well, which allowed me to live freely in the present with a new awareness of self and others. 

see also 4 Must-Try Restorative Poses—& How to Get the Most Support from Your Props

On Losing His Leg 

I never thought I’d make it to 18. And then my accident happened when I was doing good in life. I grappled with that. Because I felt like I had done the work. I was really upset and terrified I wouldn’t see my daughter again, because I wasn’t sure if I was actually going to live. And when I realized after a few surgeries that it was hopeful that I would, I started to think about how life would be. I remember watching TV just to study the biomechanics behind walking, because I knew I would have to learn how to walk again. I had all those normal human emotions and questions: Am I going to find somebody who loves me for me now? How is sex going to be? How is it going to be to get around and to do everyday things? Am I going to be able to go to college? Finish college? But I knew I was very fortunate to be alive, and I knew I’d still be able to do things—I didn’t have brain damage. I was young.

I had a newfound perspective on life. I had this joy that emanated from me. I felt a halo around me, this glow. It was palpable. People noticed it; I didn’t even have to tell them. They were drawn to me like a magnet. Everywhere I went, people would touch me and say something kind: “You’re beautiful.” “I would marry you in a second.” Random things. I was always smiling from ear to ear just because I was breathing.

I started school a little over a year after losing my leg. I was a good student before, but I was an even better student after. It made me look at my priorities a little better in understanding that life, just like that, can be gone. In a split second things can change. So I became very intentional with how I spent my time.

On Adapting His Practice

I had reservations after losing my leg that maybe I couldn’t do yoga anymore. Of course my practice was never the same, but it morphed. I got really into restorative yoga. Early on in my practice, I thought everything had to be perfect. And it’s not about that. Today we see people of all types and shapes and abilities practicing yoga and mine might not look as graceful as yours or even remotely like yours, but it’s still OK. My practice is my practice.

see also 6 Ways to Avoid Ableism in Yoga Classes

On Working Within The Political Justice System 

I grew up in a community that was harassed by police. But yet I have to work with the guy that runs the police, right? And I’ve been able to navigate that space pretty well. Somebody has to do it. If not me, then who? It’s a constant tug of war with me. I’m an impacted person.

I actually said to one of my professors, “I turned down this role to work for a mayor in Hawaii because the city was tearing down homeless encampments. You’re trying to get us to work in government, but how do I reconcile something that’s against my values?” She said, “But if not you, then who? We need smart.” She said we need people who are passionate about these issues in those roles.

see also Try This Restorative, Hip-Opening Yoga Sequence for Ultimate Rejuvenation

On The Challenges of Re-entry After Incarceration 

The communities where I grew up were over-policed and over-incarcerated. My mother was incarcerated and my younger brother has been in and out of prison for the past 11 years. My uncle was in prison for half his life. The way society and the criminal justice system are designed is that when people break a law and are convicted of a crime, they go to jail or prison—and when they get out, they’re expected to just go back and be productive members of the community. But there are all these barriers in place that essentially don’t allow them to successfully reintegrate. For instance, it’s very difficult to get a job if someone has a felony conviction. Housing is a huge problem: When people get out, they don’t have access to housing or they can’t qualify to rent something, because they have a criminal record. That is by design. It was intentional.

On Police and Prison Reform

The system was designed to disenfranchise a particular group, and it’s doing what it was intended to do. So when people say, “Oh, we need reforms,” [I ask] reforms of what? The system is working the way it was designed. We need to burn the system down and recreate it with everybody in mind. I’m not a visionary.

I want to do some transformative work, but it’s going to take visionaries to ask what this country would look like without police or prisons. Most people can’t fathom that. But we haven’t always had these things, and societies have lived in harmony without them. Yes, ours is unique because we have many different cultures and belief systems that make change challenging, but it’s doable.

On Body Confidence

My accident happened 17 years ago, and aside from the past few years, I hadn’t worn shorts all that time. I had a lot of insecurities about showing my prosthesis. I worried about people staring—what would they say, what would they think? But when I would visit Hawaii, it was OK. I was able to wear shorts and not feel those insecurities. But here, in the Bay Area, it was a struggle. I wanted to overcome it and I didn’t really know how to. I had been talking about it with people close to me for years and playing these stories in my head of the insecurity itself.

And one day, I went on a hike here in the Bay Area in shorts. Nobody was on the trail. Afterward, we went and had lunch in downtown Berkeley. Instead of putting my sweatpants back on to go eat in the restaurant, I decided to keep my shorts on. And yes, people looked, and children made comments, but that’s natural. It ended up not being a big deal. It was something that I had built up in my head. It didn’t come quick, but after that, here and there I would wear shorts, and it got easier and easier and easier, to the point where now I actually prefer it. The thing that I felt disempowered by, I feel empowered by now.

Practice Steven's sequence for keeping hope alive.

[cedarrrun]

Here, the above-the-knee amputee waxes on forgiveness, his yoga practice, and living life to the fullest.

On a breezy late-May afternoon in Berkeley, California, Steven Medeiros stands atop a craggy peak in Indian Rock park, a popular bouldering and hangout spot that overlooks the San Francisco Bay skyline. With a denim jacket flung across his shoulder and the wind in his face, the 42-year-old looks more like an Avenger or a GQ cover model than a UC Berkeley student. In a few weeks, Medeiros, who lost his left leg in a motorcycle accident when he was 25, will travel to Honolulu for a summer gig working on the ACLU of Hawaii’s Smart Justice Campaign, a national criminal justice initiative that aims to reduce the prison population and address prosecutorial accountability. An activist and advocate for police accountability and prison reform, Medeiros is pursuing a master’s degree at Berkeley’s Goldman School of Public Policy (ranked one of the country’s best) so he can effect change from the inside by helping to reimagine current systems and structures.

Listen to Steven talk about healing from complex trauma on YJ's The Yoga Show podcast.

Medeiros, who identifies as Latinx and Hawaiian, has both witnessed and experienced the oppressive, detrimental effects of the American criminal justice system on people of color and impoverished populations. Growing up in Fremont, a racially diverse city in the Bay Area, he was exposed early on to police harassment of his community. His mother, a single mom who suffered from addiction, was incarcerated for a drug offense when he was only four years old. With his father out of the picture, Medeiros went to live with his paternal grandparents, who raised him. Eight years later, newly released from prison, his mother was murdered—run down by a truck while walking home from her job at a fast-food restaurant in East Oakland. The case went unsolved, but witnesses say they saw the truck chasing her, suggesting it was a targeted attack. As an adolescent, the impact on Medeiros was monumental. “For the next nine years, I engaged in a lot of toxic behavior, hanging out with troublemakers, gang members, people from broken homes who were dealing with similar things that I could relate to,” he says.

see also How Restorative Yoga Can Help Heal Racial Wounding

In that time, Medeiros’s interactions with law enforcement shaped the trajectory of his career. When he was 21, he was assaulted by a police officer with a tire iron during a routine traffic stop. At 22, he was racially profiled and arrested “for being brown downtown,” he says—booked for public intoxication although he had not been drinking. “It was the first time I had truly felt helpless and powerless,” he says.

Twenty years later, his goal is to help make sure other people never have to feel that way. As a policy student, the issues he’s most passionate about are police and prosecutorial accountability, mass incarceration, and reentry for formerly incarcerated people. To that end, before enrolling in graduate school, Medeiros worked at the ACLU of Northern California as a program coordinator in the Organizing Department and now serves as a county commissioner for Alameda County, where he’s hoping to improve the challenges surrounding prisoner reentry at a local level.

see also How The Transformation Yoga Project is Helping Prisoners Find Peace

From Troubled Child to Changemaker

Forgiveness and family have been central to Medeiros healing from his childhood traumas. Being a compassionate and loving father to his daughter, Destiny, who at 23 has marched with him in Pride parades and Black Lives Matter protests, is his utmost priority. The like-minded duo share similar political opinions and that activist spark. On weekends, they can often be found restaurant hopping in San Francisco or exploring the outdoors. Medeiros has worked hard to instill values in Destiny such as tolerance and “not subscribing to shortcomings is what finally turned his life around.

Although he can recall a time not so long ago when he was considered a bad influence among his own family, Medeiros has grown into a role model for those who orbit him today. “His ability to be unapologetic in his stances—in his beliefs and values—has given me the courage to also live my life confidently and proudly,” says his cousin Sofia Dangerfield, who credits him with helping her two daughters grow into “open-minded little beings.”

“People always tell me, ‘You’re the most balanced person I know,’” for—for people who need it the most: people of color, women, LGBTQ folks—are being rolled back,” he says. He knows being a changemaker won’t be easy, but when overwhelm threatens to slow him down, his healing practices will help him power forward. “Equanimity, my favorite word, means having composure when things are chaotic and wild around you,” he says.

Here’s what else Medeiros had to say about what fires him up and keeps him cool—including police and prison reform, accessible yoga, and healing after a life-threatening injury.

see also This Yoga Sequence Will Reduce Stress and Boost Immunity

On Finding Yoga 

Between 18 and 22, I was really low. I had tried to turn my life around many times before, but I was always just addressing the symptoms of my problems, not the root of them. I’d stop hanging out with troublemakers, maintain a job, cease drinking and partying. But I was still angry and hurt. I hadn’t addressed the trauma of my childhood. Being an avid reader, I frequented bookstores, and I came across a yoga book. I had never heard of yoga, but I was really intrigued by what I read. I started to self-teach at home. It was challenging, and I like that. I’m a very physical person. I played competitive sports and practiced karate, so yoga was another challenge for me. I had felt so numb for the longest time—I didn’t feel alive. But every time I do yoga, I feel physically better. Things that I deal with, especially with what’s happening now with current events, tend to manifest physically—in my lower body, my jaw, and my shoulders. This practice has helped me release that, and I know it’s always going to work.

On Forgiveness 

My mother’s death had a profound effect on my life. I started questioning my self-worth. Was I destined to end up like my parents? As a teenager, I had yet to fully conceptualize the idea of choice and the role it would play in my life. After my mother died, I spiraled out of control.

I lost all interest in school and sports.

I began experimenting with drugs and alcohol and ran with the local gangs. My life looked bleak. At 22, I was exhausted and desperate for change, and I started the process of looking inward for solutions.

A message came to me that I had to forgive my parents.

Just like that, I forgave them wholeheartedly, and I felt different right away—a new person. I have never looked back. I not only forgave them for the things that they did and didn’t do, but I forgave others who had caused me trauma, and that included the people who killed my mother. I had been harboring so much anger and using that as fuel for some of the behaviors I was engaging in. But when I decided to forgive, I felt this complete release, and that allowed me to focus on other things. I jumped back into books and started down this path of self-help, deep introspection, and self-discovery. I decided to set aside anything I thought could be a distraction to me and my growth as a person and a father. I rekindled my relationship with my family, because in my youth, my “family” had become the streets. And when you’re in that, you think those people are your ride-or-dies, and they’re really not.

[Today] I talk to youths, and I tell them they’re more than the sum of their mistakes. Because of past actions, we think we don’t have a viable future given the systems in place. But I decided I wasn’t going to let that hinder me—that I was still worthy of having a good life of love despite my mistakes. So I had to forgive myself as well, which allowed me to live freely in the present with a new awareness of self and others. 

see also 4 Must-Try Restorative Poses—& How to Get the Most Support from Your Props

On Losing His Leg 

I never thought I’d make it to 18. And then my accident happened when I was doing good in life. I grappled with that. Because I felt like I had done the work. I was really upset and terrified I wouldn’t see my daughter again, because I wasn’t sure if I was actually going to live. And when I realized after a few surgeries that it was hopeful that I would, I started to think about how life would be. I remember watching TV just to study the biomechanics behind walking, because I knew I would have to learn how to walk again. I had all those normal human emotions and questions: Am I going to find somebody who loves me for me now? How is sex going to be? How is it going to be to get around and to do everyday things? Am I going to be able to go to college? Finish college? But I knew I was very fortunate to be alive, and I knew I’d still be able to do things—I didn’t have brain damage. I was young.

I had a newfound perspective on life. I had this joy that emanated from me. I felt a halo around me, this glow. It was palpable. People noticed it; I didn’t even have to tell them. They were drawn to me like a magnet. Everywhere I went, people would touch me and say something kind: “You’re beautiful.” “I would marry you in a second.” Random things. I was always smiling from ear to ear just because I was breathing.

I started school a little over a year after losing my leg. I was a good student before, but I was an even better student after. It made me look at my priorities a little better in understanding that life, just like that, can be gone. In a split second things can change. So I became very intentional with how I spent my time.

On Adapting His Practice

I had reservations after losing my leg that maybe I couldn’t do yoga anymore. Of course my practice was never the same, but it morphed. I got really into restorative yoga. Early on in my practice, I thought everything had to be perfect. And it’s not about that. Today we see people of all types and shapes and abilities practicing yoga and mine might not look as graceful as yours or even remotely like yours, but it’s still OK. My practice is my practice.

see also 6 Ways to Avoid Ableism in Yoga Classes

On Working Within The Political Justice System 

I grew up in a community that was harassed by police. But yet I have to work with the guy that runs the police, right? And I’ve been able to navigate that space pretty well. Somebody has to do it. If not me, then who? It’s a constant tug of war with me. I’m an impacted person.

I actually said to one of my professors, “I turned down this role to work for a mayor in Hawaii because the city was tearing down homeless encampments. You’re trying to get us to work in government, but how do I reconcile something that’s against my values?” She said, “But if not you, then who? We need smart.” She said we need people who are passionate about these issues in those roles.

see also Try This Restorative, Hip-Opening Yoga Sequence for Ultimate Rejuvenation

On The Challenges of Re-entry After Incarceration 

The communities where I grew up were over-policed and over-incarcerated. My mother was incarcerated and my younger brother has been in and out of prison for the past 11 years. My uncle was in prison for half his life. The way society and the criminal justice system are designed is that when people break a law and are convicted of a crime, they go to jail or prison—and when they get out, they’re expected to just go back and be productive members of the community. But there are all these barriers in place that essentially don’t allow them to successfully reintegrate. For instance, it’s very difficult to get a job if someone has a felony conviction. Housing is a huge problem: When people get out, they don’t have access to housing or they can’t qualify to rent something, because they have a criminal record. That is by design. It was intentional.

On Police and Prison Reform

The system was designed to disenfranchise a particular group, and it’s doing what it was intended to do. So when people say, “Oh, we need reforms,” [I ask] reforms of what? The system is working the way it was designed. We need to burn the system down and recreate it with everybody in mind. I’m not a visionary.

I want to do some transformative work, but it’s going to take visionaries to ask what this country would look like without police or prisons. Most people can’t fathom that. But we haven’t always had these things, and societies have lived in harmony without them. Yes, ours is unique because we have many different cultures and belief systems that make change challenging, but it’s doable.

On Body Confidence

My accident happened 17 years ago, and aside from the past few years, I hadn’t worn shorts all that time. I had a lot of insecurities about showing my prosthesis. I worried about people staring—what would they say, what would they think? But when I would visit Hawaii, it was OK. I was able to wear shorts and not feel those insecurities. But here, in the Bay Area, it was a struggle. I wanted to overcome it and I didn’t really know how to. I had been talking about it with people close to me for years and playing these stories in my head of the insecurity itself.

And one day, I went on a hike here in the Bay Area in shorts. Nobody was on the trail. Afterward, we went and had lunch in downtown Berkeley. Instead of putting my sweatpants back on to go eat in the restaurant, I decided to keep my shorts on. And yes, people looked, and children made comments, but that’s natural. It ended up not being a big deal. It was something that I had built up in my head. It didn’t come quick, but after that, here and there I would wear shorts, and it got easier and easier and easier, to the point where now I actually prefer it. The thing that I felt disempowered by, I feel empowered by now.

See also Steven's sequence for Powered Practice

[thachthanhnghi1]

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Often this writer has encountered people who say they can speak a foreign language. They claim that they can count in the language. When asked how to say, for example, the number 41, a blank look comes over them, and they start to count from number one, two, etc. No, they don’t know the numbers in the foreign language.

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Next thing is, today world is becoming global because of internet and other easy methods of communications. Many colleges today are very popular for the wide variety of people and different cultures. Some bigger colleges are having students from the whole world and they are interested in learning some skills they can get. Spanish is the fourth most important language of the world and there is a very good chance that helps you to exchange your thoughts with the student who is sitting next to you. You can imagine that you can impress your colleague well and start conversation with them in their native language.

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Take your children on a lot of field trips. Get a museum and zoo pass. Join a local homeschool support group, and if possible, a homeschooling co op, where parents take turns teaching various subjects. This will give your child a chance to be with peers. A support group will sometimes offer classes, too, on subjects you may not feel qualified to teach, such as a foreign language or even Algebra.

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As stated above, you’ll never get rich teaching English as a foreign language, and in fact, it’s pretty easy to find yourself a few hundred dollars in the red after all is said and done after a year teaching abroad. But just remember that you’re not doing it for the money. The money you lose will be the best money you can ever lose.

Movie Review: Anna Paquin In The Comedy Horror Movie Trick R Treat

At 20, Miranda Cosgrove has been acting for more than half her life. But don’t confuse her with so many of the other child performers who have gone astray. You’re not likely to see Cosgrove, who most notably starred in the kid-friendly Nickelodeon series “iCarly” for six years, getting arrested or hanging out at Hollywood nightclubs.

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I’ll say this up front, I totally enjoyed this film. It is visually spectacular, the sound is absolutely incredible and the action is unlike anything I’ve seen in quite some time. The only thing is, I’m not entirely sure what the point was. Sure, there are some broad themes in the film that are quite obvious, but why were we taken to so many levels within the main character’s mind? We started in reality, travel then to her fantasized version of reality and then went to a completely fabricated world that left out reality completely. But why were we taken there? I’m still trying to figure that out. Did I enjoy the journey? Yes, totally. Think of this as another take on “Inception” but without any drive or purpose.

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Fed up with his life, David runs away from home. It doesn’t take him long to figure out how to make the money he needs to exist. He teleports himself into bank vaults, borrows a little cash, and teleports out with no one the wiser; or so he thinks.

Baron-Cohen -Many of the filmmakers I looked up to made classic gangster films. I wanted to make a gangster film and I’ve never made one until now. I hope it is not in the same mold as normal gangster films. It is written from a female view point. Gangs have been something that America has been built on in many ways; even the Indian tribes are gangs of a sort. Gangs have always tried to gain power, and then they become legitimate and move the country forward. I come from Britain which seems to have a stable society, but if you look far enough back you find that there was some kind of gang influence in our history. The guy with the most power or the biggest army got his way, and then eventually became the king.

The Verdict: Summer action junkies won’t find anything worth their time and money to invest in Public Enemies – but it’s a cool film nonetheless. Mann movies are inherently cool movies anyway – Public Enemies is no exception to its royal bloodline. The performances are terrific – especially Depp and Marion Cottilard. (who I never got to in The Good portion of this review – sorry Marion you were terrific) It’s a solid period film that probably has no business keeping weekend box-office company with the Transformers and Harry Potter. Personally, I can’t wait to see it again. And again. And again.

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