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thevindicativevordan · 3 years ago

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You got any thoughts on Superman Birthright?

Probably my second or third favorite Superman origin, and the one that has my favorite Clark/Lex interactions.

Real pity it didn't get to stick as the "canon" origin because I like it a lot more than the Byrne origin that preceded it and the Johns Secret Origin that succeeded it. Smallville's influence is undeniable, but not a detriment, I like the Kents as flawed younger parents rather than wizened flawless mentors (if they have to be alive still when Clark becomes Superman that is). Pa Kent struggling with feelings of alienation with regards to Clark growing up and taking more of an interest in his heritage is still one of my favorite Pa/Clark moments in Superman's history. Ma Kent being a UFO buff is a great idea, apparently Waid had a story about that he never got to tell. I wonder what it was? Would probably make for a nice Annual or fill in story now that he's back at DC.

Lois is great of course, for all the reasons she usually is, as is Perry who gets way more panel space here than he usually does. Lois and Perry's relationship here is hilarious, love the gag where he writes out two lists of reasons to fire or keep her respectively. "No good place to hide the body" had me cackling. Jimmy though is just kind of there, he's the pal who has Supes back as always, but he's heavily overshadowed by the rest of the cast. Only real disappointment for me in terms of the core cast members.

There's a lot to like here in it's handling of Clark Kent as well. Love that Waid actually shows us Clark has travelled the world to gain some perspective, that he's not naïve or clueless, simply idealistic. He's seen the cruelty of the world up close, and he's also seen the way people react when they realize they're dealing with someone who has "gifts" (whether that's himself or Lex).

Showing us some of Clark's pre-Daily Planet journalist career is also a big pro for me, that's an area of Clark's life I wish got fleshed out more. Waid manages to establish a divide between the Clark and Superman identities that still makes the two feel different without it being a repeat of Pre-Crisis. It's a return to Superman being more "real" while Clark is more of a disguise, but "Clark" isn't bumbling so much as overlooked and ignored (which if you've lived in a big city is pretty much exactly how you get treated as a newcomer). His co-workers barely acknowledge his existence, Lois isn't giving him the time of day, Perry tears him a new one for not having a story to turn in about the ongoing alien invasion on time, Clark has to suffer in the trenches over the course of the story to prove himself.

Like Morrison's Action Comics run, this origin tries to fold a lot of the original Golden Age attitude back into Superman. This incarnation is a man with a temper, him shooting a gun then catching the bullet before it hits the guy who sold guns to a school shooter is literally a recreation of a Golden Age panel. Yet this isn't a "retro" take at all, despite being from Christopher Reeve's biggest fan. Waid writes Clark as someone who makes mistakes, fucks up in ways you don't typically see Superman do, and has a lot of doubts about whether or not he can live up to the task he's set before himself. Doesn't help that Metropolis doesn't welcome him any more easily as Superman than it does as Clark.

Public opinion about him is divided at first, then swings heavily to negative as Lex frames him for a false flag Kryptonian invasion, only to finally recover after he saves the day and exposes Lex. Personally I like Superman to have to work for that glowing reputation he usually enjoys, and if Lex is involved in trying to turn the public against him, so much the better. The anger and contempt towards Lex he demonstrates in particular sets the tone for the relationship between the two in the modern day.

Speaking of Lex, my God, this has got to be one of my favorite takes on him, and on his relationship with Clark, both pre and post Superman.

As adults Waid nails the Post-Crisis status quo of Lex being a selfish piece of shit who hides his nature behind a façade of philanthropy. For all his attempts at projecting an aura of power and intelligence, both of which he has in spades, Lex is so clearly defined by the lack of love and understanding he was shown as a youth. It's Superman "disrespecting" him, by not being happy to pose for photos with Lex after seeing him commit an act of sabotage, that pisses Lex off. For this "crime" Lex does everything he can to smear Superman to the public, and entertains holographic fantasies of dissecting Supes to copy his powers. He quips that killing Kal is "genocide" since he's the last of his people, something he demonstrates no empathy for at all given he laughs in Clark's face when he realizes Superman doesn't know he's the last.

Waid's Lex is probably one of the most monstrous incarnations, yet one of the most sympathetic as well. For my money, Waid is the one who convinced me that Clark and Lex being friends back in Smallville is a good thing.

One reason is that Clark gets to see how people react to "gifted" individuals. By observing the way Lex is treated for being unlike the rest, Clark gets a taste of what's to come if his own abilities were ever exposed. This has the dual benefit of establishing why Clark puts so much effort into making people feel at ease, and also establishing Lex as sympathetic for being unable to hide like Clark can.

The second big reason is that it shows why Clark thinks there's a chance Lex can be redeemed. Birthright Lex wasn't a monster from the start. At first he tried to help, but it always backfired. Doubling the efficiency of the milking machine scared/hurt the cows and upset Pa Kent, his ideas for how to improve the local government got rejected, and of course his experiment with Kryptonite. Sad twist of fate that Lex mistaking Clark's look of pain for the fear/disgust he sees everywhere else is what causes Clark to eventually give him that look of disgust for real when they reunite as adults. But having their first interactions be friendly instead of hostile makes Clark's hope that Lex can become a force for good feel grounded in reality instead of hopelessly naïve.

Can't gush enough about Yu's art either, he can make Superman look bright and inspiring, or scary as hell. His take on Metropolis makes it look and feel like a "City of Tomorrow", someplace exciting and dangerous, a city that needs Superman to protect it. Yu's Krypton is also one of my favorite incarnations, love that he gave Lara the S-curl! That's one idea from the DCAU I wish had become sacrosanct for all future origin retellings. Lara doesn't get to have enough influence on Kal to my tastes, so any little bit counts.

Sadly overlooked as it was coming out due to Azzarello and Lee doing For Tomorrow, it seems like it's risen in status after the fact. The S-shield being a symbol of hope on Krypton in addition to the El family crest has carried forward thanks to the DCEU (which is hilarious given Waid's feelings on that franchise).

Waid has another Superman project coming up next year with Brian Hitch that appears to be a "Year 2" follow up to Birthright. No clue if it will actually take place in strict continuity with Birthright, honestly it feels weird to have anyone but Yu do a direct followup to that, but Waid has said that a Superman run from him would basically be an issue 13 that continues from this story. I'm excited to see Waid take another big swing at Superman, I think he still has it in him to put out a great story, and Birthright being out of continuity may end up being to everyone's benefit. If this ends up being Waid's last Superman story, I hope he gets to do whatever he wants with the Birthrightverse. Kill off the Kents if that's his desire, I know he prefers them dead (as do I). Fingers crossed whatever he comes up with is good.

#superman #superman birthright #lex luthor #mark waid #dc comics

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prompt-master · 4 years ago

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Bear Trap (Part 2/3)

Art done by @doodles-by-noodles

Kyoko was hunched over Makoto, her eyes were darting from place to place over his body. Taking in every gash and tear before acting. Time was critical. She needed to know exactly how to treat him, or Makoto could die right there in front of her. Judging by the sound of his breathing, stressed and heavy, she could tell he’d already lost a lot of blood. Well, not that you needed her expertise to determine that. You could just look at the splattered pink around them.

“It doesn’t look good,” She had said to Byakuya. It doesn’t look good. Seriously?

“No shit it doesn’t look good,” he spat out, sounding as intolerable as he did the first day they’d met in the killing game “I do have eyes, you know.“

Her right eye twitched. The logical side of her said this was just how Byakuya handled stress, by disconnecting himself and becoming irritable instead. The emotional side of her wanted him to shut the hell up. She opted to spare him little more than a glare before placing a hand on Makoto’s neck to check his pulse. It was beating rather hard and fast. It was strange really. She felt as though he was already dead. But that didn’t make any sort of logical sense. He was warm, he was still bleeding, he was shaking, and panting. All of this was right in her hands to be directly experienced. But he still felt like he was dead, putting her fingers to his limp neck.

She had a morbid thought just then. About how her talents were used to help after a death, never really before one.

"You need bandages,” Byakuya said, ever so helpfully, “how else will you stop the bleeding? Or did the panic render you useless?"

Kyoko took a deep breath.

Makoto wouldn’t fight right now, not during an emergency, and neither would she. It’s just how he copes. It’s just how he copes…

"Tear up your jacket then.” She stated, “I’m not certain mine will be enough."

She had to spark herself into action. She couldn’t let herself fall to something as simple as shock. She had been given mortician training as a part of the Kirigiri Family teachings so that she would have complete expertise on how different injuries came to be. She could glance at the wound on his back and see that it was given to him by the claws of a Mono Unit at a rather awkward angle. As she tied torn pieces of her blazer around his wounds so that they’d hold pressure - she only had two hands after all - she was able to get the entire story of all the brutal suffering Makoto just went through.

She had seen bodies fresh from the morgue slapped down onto a table in front of her. She had witnessed the aftermath of horrors such as slit throats and dismemberment. She had once solved a case in which she found the victim’s severed head hidden underneath the floorboards in a safe. But Makoto’s disfigured leg, mangled to the point where she wondered how it was hanging on, bone sticking out after tearing through the skin, sharp from where metal teeth caused a clean break: THIS out of everything that she had witnessed in her life was what made her want to throw up.

His arm was also rather damaged. It was hard to make out under torn fabric and blood, but it seemed more salvageable than his leg…she just needed…

"Togami. Your jacket.” Her tone was unforgiving.

“I’m working on it.” Byakuya retorted back, a hint of offence in his voice.

It’s just how he copes. She felt like her patience for Byakuya was a rubber band in her hands, slowly getting pulled in either direction.

“Work harder."

"You should be concerned with yourself.”

Deep breaths. The band was taut, shaking from force.

“Is this the best of your abilities?"

The band snapped.

"At least I’m actually doing something to help him!"

Byakuya paused midway through tearing his blazer. Byakuya thought of himself as a capable man, but all his capable talents extended only towards self preservation. The one time he wished he had the skills to help someone else he could only stand and watch. There was nothing that Byakuya hated more than being helpless. Kyoko’s words reminded him of the time Aoi slapped him back in the killing game. One of the many wake up calls Byakuya had received over the past few years.

He could remember as clear as day, the wake up call that Kyoko herself had given him back when they hated each other. His fury at being incorrect over Sakura’s death, at not understanding the case, had all been snuffed out when Kyoko told him he simply lacked any emotional capacity to understand. Kirigiri Kyoko of all people.

Hearing her remind him of his uselessness now with such a harsh tone. Well, it felt like she hated him all over again.

He was still angry. Angry that he cared, angry that he wasn’t prepared, angry that he was faltering.

"What do you expect me to do?” He demanded. He spat out the words, but his heart was desperate to be given a task.

“Make sure our emergency call earlier went through. Update the Foundation on the situation.” Right, that all made sense. How had he not seen that before? It almost made the emergency feel like a quick business move. He could handle that. Kyoko looked up from tending a wound on Makoto’s stomach, the worry in her eyes made him feel sick. “…and when you’re done, try to keep him awake."

"Keep him-? He’s awake?” The boy had been so still and silent since they’d discovered his mangled body Byakuya hadn’t even considered that possibility. Upon further inspection Byakuya realized Makoto was never still or quiet. The distance he’d kept away from the scene prevented him from hearing the panting or noticing the trembling racking his body.

A simple “yes” was all he’d gotten in response. He didn’t push or question any further though, it was clear Kyoko had a lot to focus on right now. Makoto’s life was in her hands, and neither wanted him to die like this. Kyoko could only estimate the ETA on help arriving, and she was fearing they would be too late. Memories flashed through her mind of running stitches through the skin of a banana peel during training. But she had nothing to work with, and certainly nothing sterile. Kyoko didn’t believe in God, but she prayed that an infection wouldn’t strike later.

It was looking hopeless.

“They said they’ll be here with a helicopter in half an hour."

Right. She forgot Byakuya was even there. She tied another knot over a wound. Despite her heartbeat moving her entire body with its pounding, her hands remained steady. Just like when stitching banana skin shut. Another deep breath, her hands will stay steady. Any mistake could cause an issue. Mistakes could cause browning fruit to gush between the stitches. Nothing more than an insignificant rotting pile of ruined fruit splattered and smothered against the street like-

"Don’t just stand there, ” she took another deep breath, her hands will stay steady, “keep him awake."

When Byakuya came over to take place near Makoto’s head she waited for him to pass her the tattered cloths she’d been waiting for. She ended up discovering he’d already thrown them to her side. She needed to focus more. She was by Makoto’s lower body, only half a mind paying attention to what Byakuya was doing.

Makoto had never looked so disgustingly pale before, and he was the kind of person to lose all color when frightened. His mouth was slightly parted as his breathing continued to take a toll on him. A cold sweat had begun to break out on his clammy face, with a fever glowing across his skin from the blood loss and pain. What made Byakuya the most concerned though were his eyes, half lidded and staring at nothing in particular. His eyes fluttered, but his pupils were lazily taking in the world around him as if he was trying to understand what was going on but couldn’t take hold of anything tangible.

Byakuya held a hand up and froze. He was unsure what to do, all of this was out of his element. He wanted to push it all an arm’s length away. It was a simple task. Just keep him awake. But did he know what to do? In movies he’d seen people slap others awake. But Makoto was hurt, so shouldn’t he be gentle? Why was he even fussing over the method? There was no need to hesitate. He’d touched a corpse before, he could push through any nerves to handle this.

Byakuya put a hand to his face. After an unsure pause his thumb slowly caressed the skin of his cheek in an act of comfort that Makoto probably didn’t even register.

"Naegi, can you hear me?"

There was a delay in his response, eyes heavily rolling side to side before settling on Byakuya. After the first small victory he prepared to speak, licking his lips and swallowing thickly. The delay felt like hours.

"T'gami…..kun?” Makoto’s lips felt heavy as he spoke.

There was an ache in Byakuya’s chest that he wasn’t used to, “The one and only."

Makoto let out a breathy laugh. His face turned into this familiar dopey, trusting smile that he hated and loved all at the same time. His eyes seemed to lose track of Byakuya for a moment, he tried to match where they went.

"Hey, eyes on me.” Makoto’s expression seemed to sink a little.

“W-….where's….” He sounded completely breathless and confused, “where’s Kiri…?”

“She’s right here.”

His head barely moved as he tried to see past Byakuya. Through his blurred vision he could make out that familiar lavender hue. Even with the trembling caused from blood loss he relaxed at the sight, letting out a breath when he processed. He closed his eyes, he didn’t see any reason to be scared anymore.

“Hey, don’t you dare. Open your damn eyes.” Byakuya sounded angry with him, but he was too busy basking in relief.

“You're….both ok?” His voice was barely above a whisper, if it wasn’t so quiet around them Byakuya would have to strain to hear it.

“Of course we are.” It was that rare reassuring tone from Byakuya. Short lived before the anger came back, “I believe I gave you an order did I not? Open your eyes."

To stress his point, Byakuya patted the side of Makoto’s face repeatedly and rather annoyingly. Both of them felt like they should be worried at how hard it was for him to simply open his eyes. It was like prying something off of hardened glue. Byakuya grit his teeth, he had a dreadful feeling that if Makoto closed his eyes again they wouldn’t be opening any time soon.

"ETA?” Kyoko asked bluntly.

Byakuya didn’t take his eyes off of Makoto, “five minutes haven’t even passed yet.” So, they’re both impatient then. Makoto seemed to grin a small bit hearing Kyoko’s voice.

He’s conscious, Byakuya reminded himself, which means that he can keep him awake by talking. But what the hell could he say? His mind felt blank, desperately pulling at drawers to find a single conversation topic locked away in his mind. But Makoto’s eyes were still on him. Perhaps the contact was grounding enough? But for how long? Makoto’s breathing felt heavier than before.

“Why is he breathing so hard?” He opted to talk to Kyoko instead.

“He’s lost a lot of blood."

"He’s warm.”

“He’s lost a lot of blood."

"Shouldn’t that make him cold?"

"I’d rather it not get that bad. I’m sure his hands are cold if you check.”

She was right, his hands were icy cold. Makoto’s hands always felt a little chilly compared to his. Byakuya always ran hot like a furnace while Makoto was always chilly enough to wear multiple layers (I mean, a hoodie under a blazer? Really Makoto?). But this sensation felt like there was no blood in his hands. Wasn’t that a symptom of shock? His body was prioritizing vital functions just to keep him alive. Byakuya wished he could roll Makoto onto his back and elevate his legs like he’d been taught. But he’d seen the gashes on his back. It was the only injury he really took in.

“You idiot” the words came through grit teeth, “getting yourself into a mess like this for us to clean up. Typical."

Guilt could be read on Makoto’s face for a moment. “…yeah.” Byakuya once again felt a pang in his chest. Was that really all Makoto had to say?

Kyoko managed to do something while working that made Makoto wince. Byakuya didn’t think for once, he just continued to rub slow circles across Makoto’s face.

"Hang in there.” Makoto’s face hadn’t relaxed much, still strained with all the pain he was feeling, “I do not permit you to die like this. Understood?"

Makoto groaned in response, leaning into the hand that was cupping his face. Once again his eyes lost track, doing a big loop around before snagging back onto Byakuya.

"Hurts…” he said, breath hitching as more pain shot through his body.

“You can handle this much. You’ll be fine.”

Earlier Makoto felt relaxed when Kyoko and Byakuya had arrived. Their very presence gave Makoto a hope that he’d survive this. But Byakuya’s expression had gone from angry to worried. His eyebrows were furrowed, creasing lines across his forehead. If even Byakuya was openly worried…how bad was it?

Makoto felt another harsh shiver run through his body. His face felt hot but everything else was like sharp winter air kept blowing over his skin. As the shiver travelled up his spine it caused pain to flare again. He was met with a harsh reminder to open his eyes from Byakuya. His breathing felt even heavier than before, each breath taking more effort than the last. Byakuya’s face was shifting again, but Makoto could hardly make it out through the greying swirls of dots across his vision. Ah, Byakuya looked scared. So Makoto was going to die then? The only sound he could hear was his own rabbit quick heartbeat threatening to break free from his tattered ribcage. Byakuya’s mouth was moving, but none of it made sense to Makoto. He couldn’t even read his lips. One second it was quick, then slow, like time itself was blending together into something incomprehensible.

Makoto blinked slowly.

“Naegi?” Byakuya had gone from tapping his face to shaking his shoulder. He didn’t get much else besides a distracted groan from Makoto. “Naegi, can you hear me?”

“Don’t shake him like that!” Kirigiri scolded, frustrated as she tried her best not to let the movement interfere with her work.

Byakuya felt like a life was slipping through his finger tips. His own breathing felt tight in his chest from the pure anxiety that Makoto’s unresponsiveness gave him.

“Naegi if you don’t answer me right now…” his nails dug into the boy’s shoulders.

Makoto’s eyes rolled up, dropped down, fell to the left, all as if there was a weight to it. Another slow blink. More odd drifting. Not a single response from him.

“Makoto, say something…” Byakuya ordered, pausing to watch the boy’s face; his voice was quieter than he wanted to admit. “Makoto!"

Makoto sharply inhaled at the sound. Byakuya sounded scared. Byakuya was never scared. "Nn….” Makoto frowned a little bit in worry. He felt like he was drowning, being pushed beneath thick murky water and whenever he got close enough to the surface to even understand a little bit of what was going on he was shoved back down again. He could see Byakuya look towards Kyoko for a moment and watched his expression fall.

Focus…focus. If he could just make out the words they were saying. His vision left him for a moment, greying out as his body felt weirdly numb and tingly. It wasn’t a bad feeling. If Makoto were to die here and now…he’d be happy to die next to the people he loved with this strange not-bad feeling. It was much better than bleeding out alone and in pain surrounded by the mascot that caused all this suffering in the first place. He could just drift away, and be able to die peacefully, a luxury most people didn’t get any more. If he could see his own face he was sure a weak smile played on it.

“What do you mean?!” Byakuya snapped, he glared at her out of habit.

“I mean… just look…” Kyoko’s busy hands paused momentarily to grab more fabric from the dwindling pile. Byakuya looked away from Makoto’s face and his breath caught in his throat. The limb Kyoko was working on barely resembled a leg anymore. She had done a decent job at cleaning up the wounds but it only made it more apparent how… disfigured it was. Nothing about it seemed right.

“He can’t-” the words welled up in Byakuya’s throat. He couldn’t speak the words into existence. If he did, then it would become an undeniable reality.

But Kyoko didn’t have that same hesitation, “There’s no way his leg can recover from this, and that’s without factoring in the high risk of infection.”

Byakuya’s eyes were glued to the horrific sight. Despite the sight of death becoming background noise to them all, it put a pit in his stomach. He felt disgusting. Like any second now his lunch would come back up. Look closer…it was a miracle the leg was even hanging on at all. Kyoko was right. He would lose his leg.

Makoto, just barely through the swirls of gray blurs and black spots, could see the desperation and worry on Byakuya and Kyoko’s faces. It was only a small thought in the back of his mind at first. Just a little whisper. But eventually it became bright and loud. A scream next to his ears. A new hope.

He didn’t want to die. Not like this.

He couldn’t leave Byakuya and Kyoko heartbroken. They’d drown in the despair. Letting their trusted friend, their partner in survival, die after doing everything they could to try and save him? It would be heartbreaking. But Makoto couldn’t even make out the color of sky anymore. He couldn’t move his fingers. He didn’t know if it was possible for him to get out of this one alive, but he wouldn’t spend his last moments watching people he loves suffer.

“ ‘s… ok…y …gami” Makoto’s tongue felt like lead and moved sluggishly in his mouth. Byakuya wished he could take any form of comfort from the broken sentence.

The fever from Makoto’s face had gone cold, leaving him with all his blood washed pale skin on full display. Byakuya had to pause to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Don’t talk like that, you moron. I know what you’re trying to do.” and he did. Byakuya knew that Makoto was trying to make himself and Kyoko more at ease. Even while walking on a tightrope between life and death the bot still wanted to make sure his friends were okay. Byakuya felt rigid in a mixture of irritation and worry.

“It… d’sn’t hur.. nymore…’s okay."

The words made cold fear run down Byakuya’s spine. He clenched his fists, glaring down at Makoto like he’d insulted him. But his voice was weak, "I told you to stop…"

"Really…I pr…mise…’s not going to be bad…"

Byakuya grinded down on his teeth with enough force to hurt his jaw. He exhaled harshly, ignoring Makoto’s words and turning to Kyoko, "Will you hurry up and save him already?!"

"I’m doing my best! There’s not much I can do!"

”’re both… really strong… you c’n overcome …‘nything…” Makoto felt a lump in his throat, he wanted to make it seem like everything was gonna be fine, but he knew that no matter what he said… Byakuya and Kyoko were smart. They were smart enough to know he was lying through his teeth. Maybe it was more for him than for them at this point.

“Dammit Makoto if you don’t stop fucking talking that-!“

"Tha…’s why I know….you’ll be okay…” He struggled to speak, tongue heavy as lead, and still he tried to make the words clear as possible. He was afraid, he didn’t want to go, not now. There were so many things left that he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to do. He wanted to tell the two people in front of him how much he cared about them but all he could do was watch as their distress increased. His vision started to fade and he wanted to scream for it to come back. He struggled to breath.

“Makoto!"

Byakuya took Makoto’s face in his hands again. The light in Makoto’s eyes were completely gone, unable to properly process the world around him. Despite Byakuya’s pleas steadily becoming more and more desperate for Makoto to stay awake, he slipped through his fingers like sand. With his eyes drifting to the right, Makoto fell away from the world.

And both of them felt it with their own hands. They felt the exact moment Makoto lost consciousness for what could very well be the last time. They both stood there frozen in shock. Byakuya still had his hands on Makoto’s face, just watching as if any second he’d open up his eyes again and apologize for scaring them. Kyoko had her hands up, mid-wrapping wounds. She just stared blankly, unable to grapple with the idea that all her work may have been for nothing.

They sat in silence. No one moved.

It felt like gravity had increased, time had slowed down to a crawl and even the gentle whistling of the wind felt subdued and gentle, as if even it didn’t want to disturb them. Neither wanted to be the first to move. If they were to move, what were they even supposed to do? Both of their minds seemed to cloud. Was it even worth it to move? Was there even a point? There was too much to process, too many unanswered questions. Too many calls to feelings that would be left unanswered. And yet the world kept spinning sluggishly as if nothing had happened at all.

"Check…” Kyoko felt some clarity dig into her skull, sharp like a breath of cold air, “check his pulse."

"Huh?"

"Check his pulse…! Now!"

They both jumped into action. Kyoko grabbed Makoto’s wrist, pressing two fingers into the pulseline with enough force to bruise. It was manic and ineffective. She didn’t even think about how she had her gloves on, she just needed to know now. Byakuya was pressing his fingers into Makoto’s cold neck again and again. He kept missing the pulse point and getting impatient when he felt nothing.

When they found it, they both sunk back with relief. They could have passed out from the rush of realization. It was weak, and way way too fast, but it was something dammit. He wasn’t gone yet. With a shaky yet confident breath, Kyoko got back to work, hands trembling ever so slightly. Enough for Byakuya to notice, but not enough to comment on.

Byakuya slowly let go of Makoto’s neck. He dragged himself back to give Kyoko space. The pick up would be here soon. In an effort to keep contact with Makoto and stay out of Kyoko’s way, Byakuya positioned himself so that he could rest the boy’s head in his lap. He wouldn’t be caught dead in this position on any other day but in the moment that didn’t matter. He occasionally glanced up at Kyoko to watch her work, but stayed focused on Makoto. If Makoto woke up he was going to be right there and this time he wouldn’t let him slip away again.

The pick up was almost there.

#danganronpa #naegirigami #naegamigiri #makoto naegi #byakuya togami #kyoko kirigiri #fic #bear trap #whump #request fill #naegiri #naegami #dr:thh #dr3 #dr 3 #fanfic

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austarus · 5 years ago

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Wells Boys x Reader May The Best Wells Win

**These gifs are made by me, please credit if used.

***Also, I'm not dead! This is the last complete draft I have in my drafts box until Thanksgiving and Winter Break. I'll promise I'll be back, I'm just super sick and stressed out with Uni and my premed course work. Apologies for the delay, now enjoy the fic :)

“Cisco, it’s so precious,” you gush, sitting beside the mechanical engineering genius as you two sift through various screenshots and fan art on the Cortex main monitors. “When did you say the game was being released?”

The three men honestly had no idea how to respond. None of them were getting any form of attention from you today, coincidentally the one person that they were hopelessly pining over. Regrettably you were unaware of their hidden affections, oblivious to the true meaning to their actions towards you. Sherloque was quietly sipping his tea, Harry had his arms crossed with a little glare, and HR was twirling his drumstick around as per usual. All while you and Cisco continued to gush over the small virtual creature. Yamper, is what they heard you coo out with heart eyes and all. A virtual creature from the world of Pokémon that attains the body of a corgi with electric type attributes.

“He is pretty cute, but I’m just saying my money’s still on Bulbasaur,” Cisco quirks an eyebrow at you with a goofy smile, searching up on a separate monitor. You roll your eyes at him and shake your head, “Should be out by November 15. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Pre-ordering the game and spending every waking second on it?” You rub your hands together with a smile gracing your lips.

“All-nighters included?”

“All-nighters included along with lots of snacks and fizzy drinks.”

“I taught you so well.” Cisco does a little gasp rests a hand over his heart, faking a tear to wipe away like a parent proud of his child. You gave Cisco a big hug before going back to Pokemon surfing for this new game release.

A glare washed over the Wells men at the hug. All three men shared a look of annoyance and rolled eyes at the next set of Yamper photos, this time mini comic panels were included. You were practically in a whole other world because of the dog-like virtual creature. The Wells men reluctantly huddled together in the side lab, a moment of silence passing through them as they looked to one another with blank looks. They neither liked nor tolerated one another yet must play nice for your sake. They find themselves in the same predicament: you were too distracted to be whisked away by one of them.

“All right, I think we can agree here that ‘Yamper’ is our common enemy,” Harry speaks up with a sigh, as three sets of blue eyes glanced back at you. “And it’s only logical for a temporary truce until this Yamper incident blows over.”

“Oui, though ‘e may be virtual, mon cher ‘as rather become infatuated instead of seeking out moi. Such a shame, ‘owever-”

“Hold on there Frenchy,” HR stops the Frenchman. “No one said she’s seeking you out, my handsome friend. If anything, I’m the one that she enjoys coming to whenever she needs to have a good heart-to-heart conversation or for some Jitters outings. Therefore, a point goes to me.”

“Wrong,” Harry roughly shuts HR down as Sherloque mutters to himself about his disgust for the bitterly caffeinated beverage, “neither of you are worthy enough to be in her presence. If anything, I’m the most practical person she comes to whenever she needs advice or wants someone to spend her downtime with. On top of that, I’ve known her longer.” The dark-haired E2 man smirks in triumph, much to HR and Sherloque’s chagrin, shoving his hands into the pockets of his dark-washed jeans. He does a little head tilt to accompany his smirk, “Ball is in my court.”

“I’ve got deductive skills, intelligence, and charm. Qualities all women desire-”

“-The only thing you have is that piling debt of alimony to all your exes.”

“Low blow, hardhead.” HR whistled lowly.

“Shut it, you mindless fool.”

“Not mindless, creative and optimistic. I’m not a sourpuss like you.”

“At least I still have my company and my earth as a home.”

“-Wow, rude much? Or are your bedside manners as good as the dirt in hell?”

“-Yet, you ‘ave your daughter running ‘alf of it. And you got kicked out of the council. It seems that your genius brain couldn’t keep up with the dark matter.” HR and Sherloque has spoken at the same time, the latter going for a hard jab. Well, more like a stab instead of a jab.

Harry ignored the dark matter incident comment. “That council was toxic, and you know it. Unlike you two, I’ve got combat experience, especially with metas, so that means I can protect her the most.”

“No woman wants to be with a blunt mallet with raging anger management issues or with a man who can’t keep it in his pants whenever he sees a version of his ex.” HR snapped in a low voice, a little smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“What did you just say-”

“Qu'est-ce que tu viens de me dire?”

Before either man could throw any fists or random objects in the lab, a whooshing sound and red electricity cracks through the air. Harry, HR, and Sherloque found themselves thrown into opposite walls of the Time Vault, one by one. The pebbled interior jabbed at them at the moment of impact before roughly landing on the cold ground. They opened their eyes with an ache reverberating through their body and a groan leaving their lips. HR’s drumsticks had clattered onto the tiled flooring, rolling slightly away from his body. Sherloque's fedora had flown off his head while his cup of tea remains broken in the other room. Lo and behold, the last man they expected to see stood right before them in all his smug speedster glory.

He calmly watched each man gather their bearing and rise to their feet.“I’d say neither of you are the better candidate for my sweet little kitten,” the genius speedster spoke with a condescending tone.

Eobard Thawne with the identity of this earth’s own Wells smirked mischievously at the Frenchman, the novelist, and the war veteran. “My reasons?” He speaks, when they all gave him murderous glares and rude, yet questioning looks. “They aren’t really of your concern. Just remember," he raised a taunting index finger in the air, "that I’m smarter, faster, and stronger than you three combined.” The dark-haired genius emphasized those three key words as if to engrave them in the air that he’s the superior one that would win your heart. Each word directed towards each Wells, knowingly attacking each of man's weakness.

“Don’t kid yourself speedy,” HR stammers out, both drumsticks now in a tightened fist. He's stood up against Savitar, why couldn't he do the same against Reverse Flash? “She’s not into villains. You lucked out, so beat it before BA shows up with Iris and the Team.”

A low whistle leaves Eobard’s lips along with a little laugh, raising his hands up in mock defeat. “Oh, very threatening.” The smug expression and raised eyebrow gesture never leave his face.

“The moron’s right on this.” Harry had already pulled out the miniature pulse rifle (a pulse pistol, if you will) that he always keeps on him. He was blindsided once by Oliver’s Earth-X doppelganger, never again would that happen. Keeping the energy-filled gun pointed at the speedster, "You’re the last one she’d ever want to see or get with. Or have you forgotten exactly what you've done to her friends.”

Sherloque adjusted his cap and remained silent, observing and analyzing the speedster in front of him. He had heard so much about this Wells... Thawne. Stone-hearted, analytical and highly intelligent even from his original time period. A true malevolent strategist to benefit himself, yet he's heard whispers of how his demeanor would melt away when it came to you. However so much pain and underlying anger remain with the individuals of team flash. You wouldn’t choose him surely… Would you?

“Is that so? Well I guess that decision is up to her, isn’t it?” Eobard laughs sinisterly, cocking his head to the side with eyes sparking to life with red. “May the best man win.” The futuristic speedster speeds away with his crimson lightning licking the air. His mocking laughter echoes through the room.

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smokeybrandreviews · 4 years ago

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Smokey brand Movie Reviews: Run it Back

I’ve been trying to watch Tenet for months. 2020 has f*cked up me entire movie viewing experience, even though it never had to get this bad. I live in the US and my government is sh*t so we’ve had to deal with this bullsh*t for a full year. I’ve sat back and watched whole ass countries reopen while we are going into another nation wide lock down because idiots refuse to sacrifice even a little bit for us to get out of this goddamn hole but, i digress. This isn’t a rant about the political situation in my sh*thole country, it’s a review of Tenet. Long story short, i finally have an opportunity to check this thing out. I was looking mad forward to the theater experience with this one because Nolan is a master at that but, instead, I'll have to settle for m home theater experience.

The Good

Christopher Nolan is back at it again, giving us spectacle and substance at the same damn time. I love this dude’s work. It’s always gorgeous and cerebral and engaging. I mean, he elevated Batman to high art, are you kidding me? Tenet is no different. This film is one of his best. He takes another high concept, grounds it for laymen, and does spectacular sh*t with it. Bro, give this man a Bond film already because that’s what this is, only laced with tat same energy he instilled within Inception and The Prestige.

The editing in this movie must have been a herculean task to accomplish but accomplish it they did. It’s devastatingly phenomenal with all of the reversed shots and slighted perspectives you see on screen. I am in awe of the precision it took to make this movie happen. Obviously, it is a real visual feast but the machinations behind the scenes to make everything so goddamn seamless are disgustingly, unabashedly, brilliant. If Nolan doesn’t get an Oscar nod for this sh*t, there’s no justice in the world. It really is a technical marvel.

I touched on this a little before but this movie is f*cking gorgeous. The set pieces are breathtaking, the aesthetic is lovely, and the shot composition is pristine. Some of this cinematographer can legit be framed and hung in a museum of fine art.

And to keep the gushing going, this sound design is f*cking chef kiss level. I said Nolan is a master at his craft and that come through, one hundred percent, with the mixing in this movie. It’s more than just the soundtrack or score, but literally everything. In order for this film to work, he had to meticulously go through and navigate every noise in this film. I don’t understand how Nolan can be so precise with his vision but i am SO glad that he is.

This is the most action i have ever seen in a Nolan film and it’s legitimately some of the best. Sh*t is profound, visceral, and brutal. It borders on Daniel Craig James Bond barbarous and i loved it all. It’s such a juxtaposition from the suave, smooth, aesthetic of the film. I mean, Protagonist literally cheese grates the side of a dude’s face and walks away like it’s nothing I’ve never seen sh*t so goddamn vicious.

I just really needed to circle back around to this but these set pieces are f*cking extravagant as a motherf*cker. There is one in this flick that tops the plane heist in The Dark Knight Returns. It’s whole ass miraculous to see and i lament i couldn’t see it how it was designed to be properly seen. Nolan’s demand for practical effects always delivers brilliant spectacle.

I love this plot. I love the mechanics and the theories at play here. I’m a theoretical physics geek so i live for these existential shenanigans. It’s one of the reasons Inception is one of my favorite films and it’s definitely the reason this one is climbing that list as i watch it in real time. The plot, itself, is textbook spy heist stuff; Fate of the world, mad scientist villainy, ticking clock, mcguffin, etc. However, the theories therein uplift the material and make that mundane plot, so much more.

Okay. So, with the praise of the technical brilliance of this film out of the way, i can finally get into the performances and the cast. Of course Nolan mainstay, Sir Michael Caine, makes another memorable cameo as Sir Michael Crosby. Another interesting addition was Himesh Patel of Eastenders fame. He plays Mahir, a fixer; Another staple of these types of Nolan films. Other notable cast members include Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Clemence Posey, Dimple Kapadia, and Yuri Kolokolnikov. Even Fiona Dourif has a role to play in this flick. Chucky’s daughter is in a Nolan film and i am absolutely shook about it! Everyone delivers their performances with gusto, even when there isn’t much of a character on the page to realize. Now to get into the standouts, for better or worse.

John David Washington is f*cking exceptional in this flick, man. It’s a little jarring hearing him speak sometimes, i keep hearing his pops, but dude delivers like his dad onscreen, too. This is a star-turning vehicle for Washington and he deserves all of the shine. his Protagonist is amazing to see onscreen and can give ever cinematic spy, from Bourne to Bond, a proper run for their money. Washington’s swagger and poise make this character one of the best in Nolan’s filmography. JDW is fast building one helluva body of work. Monsters and Men, Ballers, and BlacKkKlansman, and now this? It’s only a matter of time before JDW is the acronym on top of all the best scripts, all the awards. Dude is primed to blow the f*ck up and Tenet is a massive opening salvo of a career, i suspect, which will be as grand as his father’s body of work.

Robert Pattinson continues to prove he is one of the best of his generation, however ridiculous it is to actually work with him. his Handler character, Neil, kind of steals all of the scenes. Dude is witty, calculating, and mad aloof but never a bore. Pattinson delivers this performance with a smarm that feels slathered on in heaps but is just too decadent to ignore. He reminds me a lot of Hardy’s Eames from Inception and that’s high praise. Eames was my favorite character in that flick. It’s been a banner year for old Patts. The Batman his limping along, Tenet is a masterpiece, The Lighthouse was inspired, and he was disgustingly horrid in The Devil All the Time. Dare i say, ol’ BatPats becoming one of my favorites working today.

God, Elizabeth Debicki is great in this role but there simple isn’t enough to properly sustain her talents. Her Kat Barton is so goddamn thin, it’s painful because i know Debicki is great at her job. She’s shown her brilliance countless times, almost always uplifting her roles, even if the content is abject sh*t. The Cloverfield Paradox is a great example of that. This isn’t her fault. Nolan is terrible at writing women but, just once, if he could actually create a female lead with a bit off agency, i wished it would have been for this film. Debicki deserves so much better but, even with this paper thin caricature she’s been giving, she uplifts the material and works magic with the scraps.

The Bad

Kenneth Branagh as the antagonist, Andrei Sator, is a little cartoonish for the tone of this film. Branagh always kind of overacts like this in most of his appearances so you have to take it with a grain of salt but, in order to really come across as sinister like they want you to believe this dude is, someone else should have played this role. He does an admirable job but the character was just realize pitch. I can see Javier Bardem or Mads Mikkelsen killing totally this sh*t

Nolan continues to shortchange his female characters. He is the worst at writing chicks, man, i swear. It’s a shame, really, because everything else around them is always so interesting. It’s one of dude’s few flaws as a storyteller and it’s my biggest gripe with his craft. The machinations of Tenet are so intriguing but poor Elizabeth Debicki doesn’t even get to really play in that world. She definitely works with what she has but, ultimately, her character is mad flaccid and it’s a crying shame.

This isn’t a knock on the film at all but the fact i had to watch it on a regular ass television, however large and 4K that is, just ain’t the same. Nolan films are meant to be seen on the biggest screen possible, at least at first. I hope to god this thing gets a re-release when this COVID sh*t blows over.

The Verdict

I loved Tenet. Loved it. I loved the concept going in but actually seeing it, finally experiencing it, and i am hooked. It’s a stunning f*cking film and Nolan pulled out all of the stops. His writing, direction, and overall vision to put this jigsaw of movie together is absolutely profound. Even with all of this on his plate, he Nolan was able to articulate this to one of his best casts and two of his strongest leads. John David Washington and Robert Pattinson come through and kill this sh*t. This movie would not work without these two cats. Seriously, JDW was to be a star after this, and he still might be, even if this thing didn’t get the theatrical release it absolutely needs and deserves. BatPats did his thing and killed another performance, further proving he’s a real actor and not some flash-in-the-pan, sparkling, vampire. Even the supporting cast comes through and delivers outstanding performances. Nolan uses every bit of this two and a half hour run time to deliver a heart-pounding spectacle of espionage and intrigue, rivaling the very best modern Bond films. The only issue i have with this thing is the usual Nolan issue; Bad female characters. Dude can’t write a woman to save his goddamn life. Also, the main antagonist is a bit weak. He's a little too Goldmember when he probably should have been more Goldfinger. Tenet is the best goddamn film I've seen all year and i wish, more than anything, i could have seen this thing in a proper theater It would have been quite the experience.

#Smokey brand Movie Reviews #Tenet

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ravnicacardsconverted · 5 years ago

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Thank you all so much!

A kinda thematic end. WishCoin Crab ends our first conversion list. and finally fulfilling a dream of mine to start a big project that I enjoy fully. and I can't say I regret starting this one bit. I have had a blast every day. even days where I couldn't Bring myself to build a card. I love this community we’ve developed here and it brings my heart great joy knowing that you all enjoy it. I want to thank all of you so much for helping me start this dream of mine, and I hope you stick around to help me realize the full of this. I know I say this a lot but I love hearing from you all. on my discord, on my Tumblr, in my message box. wherever. I love the Criticism I love the stories, I love helping people with ideas. I love this all. I'll say it again and then get done gushing and down to business. THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH, I LOVE THIS COMMUNITY.

Plans for the future.I plan on doing a double. unfortunately It will be a bit late but i plan on converting both War of the Spark and Ravnica Allegiance at the same time, alternating each day. I will update you with more info when that comes around. additionally i plan on going though this set and revamping some of my earliest work. and changing it, so you might see many older posts changing. Im doing this because i unfortunately do not feel proud of them

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Now onto brass tax.Over the next few months I plan on working on and releasing a compendium of all the conversions ive made here. along with a few exclusive conversions. these exclusive conversions include.

Split Spells

Legendary Creatures

Planeswalkers and their spells/minions

In addition to this book will also offer a fully fleshed out Quest known as

A Bad Case of Book Devourers

There will also be a few additional ideas and content which include but are not limited to

A subclass for Rogue based around the Surveil ability

original ideas for magical items, creatures, and spells.

original art from some very talented artists.

Once I work out some ways of distribution I will update with the relevant info. I currently plan on it being on DM’s Guild and direct transfers. For those who have been a patron for 5+ months will receive a free copy.

Additionally a small booklet about the guild lockets will be released for free for all to use. this also spoilers the lockets for Ravnica Allegiance.

Any additional info I am unable to think of currently will be added to this post. with an update including the change.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Unfortunately while I work on the book I will be putting the daily conversions on a hiatus. during this time i will still hold a weekly planeshifted card. and additionally I will be taking Commissions. While im not used to this im gonna try my hardest. So here are the Commission Info

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I will take Up to 20 commissions at first and see how this works.

Contact info: Please contact me on this Tumblr though direct messages or my discord directly.

Restrictions/Limitations: While your commission does not need to be a MTG card it might result in a better product. If your commission isn't a MTG card than I request that you provide a suitable amount of Reference material. Additionally I Request you would like a detailed description of what you would like out of the commission. If you are just letting me go lose and use my own ideas than please say so too. I will not do

- Anything I determine to be in poor taste (Raciest,sexist,homophobic,etc) - NSFW conversions. - Stuff from Ravnica Sets.

Payment: Payment will be through paypal and payment will be issued after the conversion is done.

Content Changes: I will periodically update you throughout the commision, if you have changes to the material it will be at no charge unless I have finished the commission. If the change is significant than I withhold the ability to charge extra

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Available Commissions

Monster stats (25$ or higher depending on complexity)

Magical Item(s) (15$ + 5$ for each item past the first.)

Spell(s) (15$ + 5$ for each spell past the first)

Estimated wait till will be given while talking to me about these commissions. I will also inform you on contact how many slots are open. and if you want to be set on a wait list i will write your contact info down to contact you when an open slot is available.

These Commissions will most likely close once Ravnica Allegiance / War of the spark has started

All Commissions I hold ownership of. in the case of card conversions they will be posted. non-card commissions may be posted upon request or allowance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

KO-FI << >> PATREON

IF YOU WISH TO SUPPORT ME AND MY CONTENT YOU CAN FIND ME ON PATREON AND KO-FI BY DONATING YOU GAIN BENEFITS AND ARE ABLE TO VOTE ON PLANESHIFTED CARDS, GETTING A FREE MONTHLY COMMISSION FOR 5$+ PATRONS AND GETTING A FREE COPY OF WHATEVER COMPENDIUMS ARE COMING UP; AS WELL AS EARNING A SPOT ON MY DISCORD SERVER

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Join the Ravnica Cards Converted Discord and come hang out here https://discord.gg/PydYEEY (SERVER LINK)

To contact me directly my name is RavnicaCardsConverted#3451

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Now i hope all that wasn't to business sounding and again I must thank you all for your time and kindness, I love what I'm doing and hope to continue for a long while. I would love to hear stories of your games rather or not I affected them or not. I love hearing stories.

Have a good day!

#Commision info #guilds of ravnica #Update #commisions open #dnd #D&D #magic the gathering #Guilds of Ravnice: Converted Compendium

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singaporeluststoriescollection · 5 years ago

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How I managed to bang my GF's family and friends (Part 8)

At that moment, I was jealous of my GF’s father. This is the sight he’s been enjoying every night? If I were him, I would never let her out of my sight!

The extra stimulation caused my erect penis to slip right through the top of my shorts. Trying my best to remain unnoticed, I maintained my regular breathing while hiding my face beneath the pillow.

She knelt down beside me, her eyes now seeing nothing else but my manhood. Her initial reluctance was slowly fading away- her hands now slowly pulling my shorts down to the top of my knees. Biting her lips with her front teeth, I could hear saliva being produced inside her mouth. Now that she is closer to my eye level, I could also properly admire her body.

The soft satin night gown formed a protruding shape before her breasts, making it obvious that her nipples were actually quite hard at the moment. The green satin was resting on her erect nipples, accentuated by her shapely breasts.

All of a sudden, I felt a cold sensation on my penis.

Darting my eyes back to my lower body, I saw something I’ve been waiting for since forever. The index finger of her right hand is now sliding along the shaft of my penis. She then flipped her hand around, running the same finger in the opposite direction…

It was ticklish yet sensual- perhaps due to her nervousness, I could feel her finger trembling lightly. Like a child afraid of being caught, her eyes were stealing glances toward the direction of my face once in a while.

Despite this, her finger never stopped for a moment- still playing around with my penis as if she was trying to make up her mind. The uncertainty in her eyes made my member even harder- as the little sadistic demon hidden within my heart enjoys watching people trapped in a moral dilemma.

She seemed fairly surprised by my penis getting even harder than before. Perhaps this gave her some sort of assurance, because what she did next went far beyond my imagination.

“Use your whole hand, come on…” I thought to myself, still anticipating her next move.

True to my expectations, her thumb soon formed a ring with her index finger, with my penis right in the centre of it. She ran her fingers up and down my meat rod, as if she’s trying her best to squeeze something out.

However, the very next moment- her head lowered right before my eyes.

Her luscious lips wrapped around her head of my penis faster than I can react, her fingers still jerking my shaft in slow and sensual motion. My hips started throbbing involuntarily, overwhelmed by the influx of sensation on my sensitive spot.

What I am witnessing now is a work of art. Like a street performer doing a handstand on a basketball, my future mother in law is working the magic using her tongue. As her head is bent all the way over, I could not see the expression on her face. However, the ecstatic feeling on my penis could never lie.

This is by far one of the best blowjobs I’ve ever had in my entire life. This made me wonder how much she had been practicing prior to this- but there was simply no time for me to give too much thought to this.

Speeding up the movement of her hands, I was about to experience ecstasy like never before…

Whenever I have sex, I try my best to not cum that quickly in order to enjoy the ecstatic sensation just a little longer. As such, this is the first time things have gotten out of hand so rapidly.

There was simply no way for me to hold myself back. Her fingers were relentless, dead set on squeezing out my load as soon as possible. Sure enough, within a matter of seconds- I could feel my penis reaching its limit.

Trembling steadily on the spot, my hips went a little out of control as my penis started shooting my load. Gushing out of the tip of my penis was an insane load of cum I never thought I was capable of producing. Looking back, I would say it was at least 4 days’ worth of cum.

The moment I started cumming, her eyebrows turned into a frown, much like her daughter’s. With our hesitation, she swallowed my load like a seasoned veteran. I was mesmerized by her actions. There was no way a healthy man can resist her charm.

Her lips soon left my penis, with sticky drool still trailing from the tip. After such an insane load, there was no way my penis could remain erect. I could almost feel a hint of sadness in her eyes when she saw my flaccid penis-

-and our eyes met.

It was as if time just stopped all of a sudden. My eyes were staring straight into hers, and the dazed look on her face soon turned into one of horror and guilt.

She sat up straight, her right palm covering her mouth.

“Oh dear what have I done, oh no…” she cried out, visibly shaken by her own actions.

Now then, my dear friend. If you were me, what would you have said in this situation? Your future mother in law just sucked you off behind your GF’s back- and it was obvious she was conscious of her own actions.

If you were to ask me, there was simply no way to end this gracefully. Believing that this was the best thing to say, I allowed the following words to slip out of my mouth.

“That was the best blowjob I’ve ever had…” I replied meekly.

Before I could say another word, she stood up straight and walked off almost immediately.

“Please put on your shorts. Please… nothing happened between us…” she pleaded, knowing full well that she has done something irreversible.

Truth be told, that actually made me feel guilty about this whole plan of mine. But what’s done is done. And now, I have to do what I can to defuse this unexpected turn of events…

“I know we shouldn’t be doing this, but that was amazing!” I continued without skipping a beat, believing this to be the best choice of words. “You’re my girlfriend’s mother, but as a healthy man, there’s no way I wouldn’t be attracted to a beautiful lady like you!”

“…just stop, please…” she pleaded, her face now in her hands.

Not wanting to lose the only chance I have, I continued speaking with no intention to stop.

“There must be a reason you did… what you did…” I said, careful not to use any sensitive words. “Do you see me that way too?”

She said nothing, her hands still buried in her arms.

“You do, don’t you…?” I pressed on, trying my best to prevent her from running off. “I..

I really like what you did just now… that has got to be the best moment in my life…”

Without another word, she walked off, headed straight to her room. Shit, did I need up? Not wanting it to end like this, I followed her and tried to continue the conversation. However, she shut the door in my face before I could even formulate another sentence.

“Please go to sleep,” she said from behind the door. “We will talk about this tomorrow…”

And so, I did, seeing how there was no chance for me to continue the conversation. Guess its heaven or hell now. If the girls find out, I’m as good as dead. Time to grab some shut eye for now…

——————–

But no, there’s no way I can sleep after all that. I’ve been tossing and turning in bed for a good 15 minutes. My cock is still agitated and there’s no way I can sleep like this. What’s more, my impending doom is just making me feel even worse.

I need some sort of release. Even going for a jog would be nice. With that in mind, I left my room and went straight to the living room. 2 rounds around the neighbourhood sounds great right about now.

Opening the door with one hand and wearing my shoes with the other, I ended up hopping around, trying to regain my balance. Perhaps it was due to the sound I was making; I heard a door creak open.

“Are you going somewhere?” Her voice shot right into my ears, making me pause almost immediately.

I turned my head to my side, witnessing her leaving her room.

“I… yes, I’m going for a jog” I said, giving a on awkward smile.

“I shouldn’t have reacted that way just now… it was my fault after all.” She replied, her answer completely unexpected.

“Are you free tomorrow?” She asked, looking at the floor.

There was no way I wouldn’t be free after hearing her say that…

So, there I was, sweat dripping all over the place, with a seemingly endless stretch of road before my eyes. My GF’s mom was running in front of me, her voluptuous body glistening in the morning sun.

“Let’s go have a little jog-” was what she said just now, smashing my erotic fantasies of her to smithereens. I thought we’ll be talking about the issue at hand and I’ll have another chance at convincing her.

However, little did I know that we’ll be jogging in the park- and we’ve been going at it for at least 50 minutes. The weather is turning hot, and I’m not sure if I’ll last another 5 minutes.

Just when I was contemplating if I should take a break from running, my GF’s mom started slowing down. She eventually stopped in her tracks and turned around to look at me.

“How is it? Feeling better already?” She asked with a bright smile, the embarrassment from last night now but a thing of the past. And all I could manage was an awkward laughter in response.

“I’ve contacted a friend of mine to help you with your… problem,” she commented, eyes fixated on my crotch.

Wait a minute.

While I’ll admit that I’m the one who came up with this ploy, I’m not the one who decided it was a good idea to play with your future son in law’s dick. Seems to me like she’s still in denial about her needs.

Very well then, let’s see how this will play out.

We left the running tracks, still drenched in sweat. Her decathlon singlet was soaked through and through, showing off the sports bra she was wearing beneath the singlet. Along the way, I could observe other men- young and old, throwing dirty glances at my future mother in law. I suppose the charms of a matured lady really knows no bounds.

To my surprise, my future mother in law wasn’t planning to rest under the HDB block. Instead, she called for the lift. Did we just run all the way to her friend’s place?

After a short elevator ride, I followed her lead to a home just around the corner. At that point, I was actually kind of nervous. I was too tired to be nervous before, but now that my heart isn’t trying to rip a hole in my chest, I can finally think clearly.

Perhaps sensing my nervousness, my mother in law tried to reassure me.

“Don’t worry… everything will be fine!”

Within moments, I could hear the door creak open. I wonder how this friend of hers is like? And how is this friend supposed to “help” me with the situation?

My eyes widened, as the person behind the door stepped into the open…

From behind the door, an Indian lady came forward, greeting the two of us with a bright smile. She looks like someone in her early 30s, but her bubbly attitude made her seem younger than she really is.

(Original thread: http://tiny.cc/td3x6y) (To be continued…)

#slsc1

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prettywordsyouleft · 6 years ago

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Different Kisses with Himchan

Thanks for your request, and patience for me to answer this! Since B.A.P is one of my ult groups, I was so excited to receive another member to write kisses for (only Zelo to go!) but the more I sat here thinking about Himchan, I realised just how relatable he is as a person! So this has been a really nice journey creating these kisses and I hope you enjoy them!

Kissing Himchan happens as often as his compliments for you do. You’re forever falling deeper in love with him with every kiss.

First kiss:

Your first kiss with Himchan came a few weeks into your relationship. Himchan is a romantic and it doesn’t take him long to fall in love with someone. You worked at a café he frequented often and over time you had a steady stream of flirty banter whilst you made his coffee. Because he’s a straight-forward type of guy, when he found that he couldn’t stop thinking about you he asked you out on a date, and it was a good thing he chose to do this when you weren’t using the coffee machine because you were that stunned you would have burned yourself. Of course, you accepted and starting seeing Himchan frequently for dates.

And whilst he was always open with his conversations with you, connecting with you endlessly over any topic, the physical side was delayed compared. It wasn’t as if Himchan didn’t want to do more than hold your hand or cuddle up with you. He had been ready to kiss you from the first date. But he was trying to be gentlemanly, especially since you had mentioned you hadn’t dated in a while.

It confused you as to why he held back. You could tell he wanted to kiss you, the urge obvious in his dark eyes whenever you caught him staring at you. Soon, you anticipated him finally crossing that line and kissing you. You waited for it on every date or time you spent together. But nothing.

Finally, after waiting all day long you simply reached over and kissed him briefly whilst he was talking to you. Himchan blinked slowly, trying to process what just happened. “Was that a kiss?”

“I’ve waited for you to kiss me for so long, so yes!” you told him exasperatedly, watching as a slow grin crossed his lips. There was now a glint in his eye that you frowned at as he edged closer.

“You call that a kiss?” he repeated before cupping your face in his hands, pressing his lips onto yours with demand. It was needy and heated and by the time he pulled away, you were breathless.

Public kisses:

Since that first kiss, Himchan has kissed you whenever and wherever you are, so being out in public is no issue for either of you. You’re naturally very affectionate with each other and always holding hands or touching in some way, exchanging endless smiles and kisses during whatever task you’re up to. Himchan loves spoiling you and taking you out shopping is one of his favourite pastimes, kissing the top of your head and chuckling when you get excited over your finds for the day. You love nothing more than choosing things out with him in person, for you, him, your home – everything. There’s something endearingly normal about doing this together, since he’s away so much with his job, and it makes you both more open with your PDA, lots of gentle kisses in between visiting stores.

And whilst Himchan loves having date night within the confines of your home, he definitely prefers getting out and exploring the world with you. From museums and art expos to endless coffee shops and restaurants, Himchan is in his element if he can make new memories with you. Kisses infiltrate every activity, mostly being pecks or brief embraces but when the adventure out starts to wind down and you think about heading home sometimes these kisses can turn deeper, searching for a new activity to fill the night with. He’s so smitten with you and being out with you all this time has Himchan thinking of how much he loves you – and how much he wants to cherish you forever. Quite often these kisses signal the end of any outing and it’s time to head home and get lost within each other.

Private kisses:

Himchan at home is comfortable. You both have an equal love for connection and communication so when you’re alone together that’s all you focus on. Even when it comes to chores you do them together, living that sweet domestic life. Himchan is excellent in the kitchen which helps you out as you’re not always the most proficient in there but you definitely get an A+ for effort. He loves when you cook for him, gushing over how good it is and how happy he is being fed by you. Kisses often follow after every meal, much like cuddles on the sofa and getting entangled in with each other as you watch TV or movies together. There’s nothing super exciting about your daily lives behind closed doors and yet you wouldn’t change it for the world. You spend a lot of time just talking, able to converse over any topic and becoming intellectually energised from being in the company of someone who also lives for in-depth conversations. A lot of your relationship is verbal; Himchan is always complimenting you for something. He’s also known to scold you too! He is a nagger, it comes with his nurturing ways and because you are his special person, he always wants the best for you. So when you’re not looking out for yourself, expect him to have an opinion about it. But he’ll always follow it up with a chaste kiss upon your lips to wipe away that pout you’re giving him too.

He’s definitely affectionate in a physical aspect too. Himchan loves being able to touch you, it feeds into that need of connection you both have. Little touches infiltrate tasks, his hand reaching out to grab you and give it a little squeeze before carrying on. Kisses can be like this too, reaching for each other in passing, a quick peck getting you through whatever you’re focused on. When you both have time for each other though, Himchan’s a huge advocate for cuddling and not letting you go, and you’re definitely not going to complain about this.

Making out:

Himchan’s love for you means he’s always expressing himself to you. Whether it’s verbally with compliments about how beautiful you are or with how often he’s holding you within his arms and placing soft kisses upon you, he’s forever showering you in love. Which means it’s very easy for making out to occur in any situation. Sometimes all it takes is one look in your direction and you’re moving into his arms with haste, or during a really sensual cuddle session, either way, things are definitely going to slip into a land of pleasure. Whilst a lot of people see Himchan as dominant and rather dirty, I personally feel he is definitely more about the sensual, romantic side to loving you. Sure, he can sometimes demand more of you when feeling needy for a climatic release, most of the time though; Himchan is going to take his time with you. He truly worships you and this is shown through his approach to making out, pulling you into his lap and gripping at your upper thighs as he languidly kisses you. It might be slow but this is definitely delicious and heightening, the intricate way his mouth his moving on yours makes you moan out in delight often. Your hands are threaded through his hair and gently tugging when his own start to explore over your back and waist, running in circles that drive you as mad as these endless kisses are. One kiss falls into the next; stealing your breath and making your heart swell with further adoration. And when he’s had enough of just tasting your lips, he’ll move down to your neck and any exposed skin on your chest and shoulders, sucking and kissing a trail that has you writhing in his lap. Of course, this is causing some major friction downstairs so making out has a very probable chance of heading into the bedroom. After all, his shirt is already undone by now and your noises are making him grunt in approval – it’s time to take this to another level of pleasure.

Morning kisses:

Himchan loves waking up with you securely within his arms. Like a security blanket, you have safely made it to another morning with him and he’s so happy to soak in all your natural beauty. He cannot help but lean in and kiss whatever part he can reach first, if you’re spooning, it’s your shoulders he’s now mapping out with his lips, and if you’re facing him, he’ll try to find your mouth, kissing along your jawline and waiting for your head to turn enough so he can find your lips and claim them with a lot of soft kisses. Himchan is a man of many kisses, often following one up with another until you’re whining about not being able to breathe. Mornings are soft and endearing, whether you only have five minutes or an hour to enjoy wrapped up in each other, you both make the most of it until it’s time for a coffee run and to finally continue on with the rest of the day.

Making up:

Himchan is very stubborn and argumentative. Although your excellent communication means fights are not very frequent, he has an opinion and will be vocal about it if he believes it’s something to bring up. Arguments are often loud and full of defensive behaviour, both of you not backing down from your thoughts until it’s gone too far. And it’s around this point where, whether he felt he was still right or not, Himchan is beginning to feel guilty for yelling so much. If you also have started crying during the fight, it would literally break him to see you that upset.

Even with his stubbornness, Himchan readily makes up with you after the fight is over. He already struggles enough with his own self-critical ways; he doesn’t like the idea of letting things between you both fester. Kisses are thus needier than usual; wanting to make sure your connection isn’t damaged in any way. You can both discuss when calm how to approach your issues but making up physically definitely comes first. Despite his need for your love, I don’t feel he’s one to often have make-up sex. For Himchan, sex is a way of expressing his ultimate love for you in a pleasurable session. With the heightened emotions after an argument, he’d much rather hold you close to him and mindlessly run his hands through your hair, telling you how much he loves and needs you always.

Coffee kisses:

Of course, his specific kisses start out here – Himchan’s favourite thing besides you is coffee! Much like Taekwoon, another self-confessed coffee addict, Himchan always has a lingering aroma of coffee on him. His kisses naturally taste like the beverage as well, especially when he’s just refuelled himself on caffeine. Although you once worked as a barista, coffee isn’t your favourite beverage but you do seem to find immense comfort in the taste and smell of Himchan. And when he’s away, you definitely to miss this, feeling withdrawals from not being around someone that always smells and tastes like coffee.

Thankfully his lips are always available whenever he’s home to fulfil your own addiction, and he loves whenever you sigh in content after plucking the taste from his mouth. Himchan makes a huge point of drinking his coffee and then finding your lips to make up for lost time.

Playful kisses:

Although he can be serious and talk with you for hours on end, Himchan is also very capable of having fun and creating a playful atmosphere with you. He’s a bit of a dork and definitely a jokester, loving to hear you whine in protest at his antics. He also has a great habit of embarrassing you with his cheesy aegyo which you secretly adore even if you’re cringing. It’s when you start blushing or vehemently protesting that Himchan cannot help but laugh, kissing you in between his bursts of joy. He’s already known to kiss you multiple times in a session but when he’s playful they’re like little love bullets all over your face, making you giggle until you’re breathless. When you’re both trying to calm down from this, you’ll stare at one another and grin, knowing this was a perfect healing session to brighten you up and de-stress from the daily grind of life.

Selfie kisses:

Himchan is huge on making memories. And what better way to document them than with using technology and taking endless photos. Himchan is a selfie king and you are his queen, so it makes sense that you take a lot of photos together. From dorky to couple aesthetics, you have them all and every day, every trip and every special moment is well documented in photos. It makes sense that a lot of these moments have at least one kissing photo captured, always feeling immense joy in exploring together and adding new memories to your journey in life together. Kisses aren’t staged like with some selfie kisses I write for; they’re more genuine and caught in their raw form. Some are on each other’s cheeks or you pecking at Himchan’s hand that you’re holding to hide your face when you’re not wearing makeup. And then there are the ones where you reach for one another and kiss, not paying attention to the camera at all but getting caught up in one another. They are your favourite photos with Himchan and can be found in many of the framed photos you have around your home together.

Jealous kisses:

Because you are everything to Himchan, he’s not very good when it comes to sharing. As much as he likes having you around his members, he’s not afraid to speak up – especially when it comes to Youngjae – if he feels you are getting too close to them physically. Himchan knows that it’s harmless but it still evokes the green-eyed monster all the same, his whining incessant until he has you in his arms and away from whoever was disrespecting his values. The same can be said whenever he feels jealousy towards people he doesn’t know well, though he won’t be as vocal. He will glare and strategically place an obvious hand on you that shows you’re his significant other, interjecting into conversation if he feels the need to establish his role in your life in a subtle way. Most of the time you just let these antics go, feeling a bit apologetic if you realise just how worked up he is. But sometimes, when your interaction with someone else feels unwarranted for his jealousy, you get annoyed, shrugging him off and walking away when it’s acceptable to do so, and giving him a look if he comes after you to quit it. In your eyes, you only ever see him and whilst you understand jealousy, you don’t see why it’s still a problem after all these years. You love him and you’re very open to showing just how much you love Himchan too. In the moment, you’re not paying attention to how his insecurities are affecting him and he’s not one to openly talk of them either, so you may miss some of the cues that would soften your mood.

When you’re alone, he’ll pull you into his arms firmly and demand your kisses, to remind himself that you do in fact only want to be with him. It’s in these moments, as he claims more of you, that he can seem dominant, wanting to show you that you shouldn’t ever make him jealous again without knowledge of the consequences.

Reassuring kisses:

This one really follows along with the previous section well! Himchan is self-critical and whilst he exudes confidence well, he sometimes hides his inner feelings behind this. As a nurturing type of person, Himchan is good at looking out for everyone but because he’s so occupied in helping others, he often comes up empty on that same nurture for himself. He’s a perfectionist as well; loving on what he often sees as flaws within himself is very difficult. He often struggles with feeling good enough as a person, even if he’s exclaiming it in false confidence to others. The type of person who easily says he’s fine when he’s not so he doesn’t worry others, especially you. But you’re someone who knows all of his habits now and can tell when he needs to rely on you. He won’t openly tell you he needs you, not wanting to seem incapable in front of you, but he has tell-tale signs. When he starts asking what you think of him in an outfit or how he looks, that is actually when he needs your comfort, your reassurance that he is someone of worth. Unfortunately, Himchan has faced a lot of judgement on his appearance since he was labelled as the visual in B.A.P and over the years this title has been a heavy burden on his shoulders.

Thankfully he has you, someone who knows how to lift him up without pushing him to open up to all his concerns. You’ll tell him he looks handsome as often as you can, and compliment him in a way that’s not vague. Specific compliments really reassure Himchan and make him feel comfortable within his own skin again. He’ll kiss you after every compliment, telling you how much he loves you when he pulls away. And, if the problem is bigger and he really needs you, after you’ve comforted him like this, he’ll open up and tell you what’s bothering him, thankful to have you to lean on and guide him through his troubles, kissing you softly in between when he feels overwhelmed by your love and support.

Thank you kisses:

Final kiss and let’s end it on a sweet note. Himchan knows everything about you. He is so observant that he has things sorted for you before you even know you need them. Even though you’re accustomed to him doing things for you and all the care he has for you, it still overwhelms you when he picks up on the little things. When he knows that you’re having a hard time and surprises you with flowers or when you’re struggling with something and he actively comes to help you solve it. Everything he does for you makes you feel more love for Himchan and you never thought that was possible. You have endless gratitude for his place in your world and even if you dedicate yourself to him for the rest of your life, you’re certain that won’t ever be enough to show him just how much he makes your life that much sweeter to live.

You try to tell him often though through thanking him. Like above, specific reasons and compliments are really special to Himchan and you often follow these up with kisses, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing yourself into him along with your lips. When you pull back and smile up at him, you know he’s aware of just how thankful you are for him and everything he does.

Dating Himchan is rewarding. He is your biggest advocate for health and wellbeing and always there for you in any and every situation. Although he’s not so good at looking out for himself, you do a pretty darn good job at making sure he is always feeling fulfilled, cherished and wanted, and will happily do so for the rest of your life too.

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Other B.A.P members: Yongguk //Daehyun // Youngjae // Jongup

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pikapeppa · 6 years ago

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Fenris/f!Hawke modern AU: Tequila

Chapter 5 of Damned Spot is up on AO3! It ends on a bit of a cliffhanger BUT THE NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE UP EITHER TONIGHT OR TOMORROW, I PROMISE. Posting this one tonight for @dadrunkwriting Friday!

In which Fenris and Rynne flail around like awkward idiots in the wake of the previous night’s party. Tiiiiiiny hint of smut. Previous chapters can be read here: [1] [2] [3] [4]

And beautiful art of this fic can be seen on the Tumblr of my partner in life and crime, the ever-talented @schoute.

***********************

2:21pm - you had fun last night. admit it!

Rynne’s phone made a little swish sound as it whisked her message away to Fenris. She grinned to herself as she pulled her sunglasses from her forehead down to her nose, then stepped out into the brilliant afternoon sunshine.

She was still on a high from how great the party was. After the intensity of the conversation on the balcony, Fenris had spent the rest of the night by her side. They’d both continued drinking, and he’d started loosening up, and Rynne lost her breath every damned time he laughed. He talked more than she’d expected, firmly sharing his opinions in the ebb and flow of conversations as they moved among the various groups of people in the house, and he was just…

He was so fucking smart. And articulate. And surprisingly opinionated. Rynne hadn’t expected that either, given how infrequently he participated in chit-chat at the Hanged Man. But now that she’d seen him talking more freely, it was more obvious than ever that his customary reserved silence masked an unceasing river of thought rather than a lack of anything important to say.

His opinions didn’t always match with hers. In addition to the lyrium issue, Fenris favoured the death penalty and really seemed to hate big corporations like Amazon. Rynne, on the other hand, supported rehab for convicted criminals and didn’t particularly care where her stuff came from as long as it was cheap. She and Fenris butted heads a few times, and the conversation became rather heated on more than one occasion - too heated for Isabela, who complained that this was a party and not a courthouse - but somehow, Rynne always managed to diffuse the tension and make him smile.

And as soon as Fenris smiled, every hint of cogent thought fled her foolish brain.

He’d followed her from the couch to the kitchen to the games room, scoffing at her jokes and returning her teasing with rapid-fire retorts that made her laugh so hard her stomach hurt. He’d point-blank refused to dance with her, but it hadn’t stopped her from dancing up on him like the shameless tart that she was. At one point, while she was twisting in front of him like a snake, he put his hand on her waist.

Fenris had touched her. Touched her of his own free will, twice in a single night. He’d shaken his head and smirked at her as his elegant, tattooed fingers squeezed her waist, and…

Maker’s balls, Rynne really wanted to fuck him.

But it was so much more than that. Usually Rynne was happy to hop into bed with whoever caught her interest, and if the fling became more than physical, that was a happy plus. But with Fenris… She got the sense that that wouldn’t work for him, and that she’d have to wait for him to come around to the idea of sleeping with her.

Rynne didn’t care. She was more than happy to wait. She would wait for him for months if she had to, because she could happily admit the truth: in the space of less than two months, she’d become more attached to Fenris than to any other romantic partner she’d ever had.

Fenris knew her worst secret, the one she’d been forced to hold most closely to her chest, and he didn’t think she was a horrible person for what she’d done. He’d given her a few secrets of his own, and she knew that was no small thing for him. Somehow, for some reason, Rynne trusted him at a visceral, instinctual level, just as much as she trusted Piper and Cullen. And in the most uninhibited depths of her heart, she knew that she would wait for him for as long as it took.

But hopefully it wouldn’t take too long.

She cheerfully hummed along to her tropical house playlist as she made her way to Athenril’s coffee shop in Lowtown. She was so busy rehashing the happy events of the previous night that she was halfway to Lowtown before she realized that Fenris hadn’t texted her back.

She pulled out her phone and swiped through to her messages.

2:33pm - fine, play coy, i dont mind ;) 2:33pm - seriously though i’m really glad you came

She popped her phone back in her pocket, but to her happy surprise, it dinged less than a minute later.

2:34pm - Thank you for having me.

I haven’t had you yet, she thought cheekily. But she would keep that thought to herself. For now, at least.

2:34pm - anytime ^^ 2:34pm - are you super hungover? did i wake you up? lol

2:34pm - No. I’ve been up for hours. Some of us don’t have the luxury of blackout curtains in every bedroom window.

Aw. So snarky, she thought fondly. She could imagine the crease of his eyebrows and the smirk on his lips as he texted her. The image fostered a warm feeling in her belly, and she grinned to herself as she stepped into the road.

“Hawke! Be careful!” A strong female hand grabbed her elbow and pulled her back, and Rynne squealed in alarm as a taxi screeched around the corner in the spot where she’d just been standing.

“Fuck!” Rynne gasped. She pulled out one earphone and stared up at Aveline, who was scowling at her with a look that she usually reserved for shoplifting teenagers. “Av! My hero! Kirkwall’s finest at her very best! How are you?”

“I’m fine. But you need to pay attention to your surroundings,” Aveline scolded. “Turn your music down. You would have heard that cab coming if your music was quieter.”

Rynne tilted her head playfully. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear you over my music. What was that you said?”

Aveline pursed her lips. “Very funny.” She waved a hand for Rynne to cross the street, and they made their way in the direction of Lowtown together.

“Seriously though, how are you?” Rynne asked. “How’s Donnic?”

Aveline’s expression softened at the mention of her husband. “He’s well, thank you. Enjoying paternity leave.” She smiled slightly, and Rynne grinned at the pinkness of the police captain’s cheeks.

“And how’s Carver doing?” Rynne asked. “I hope he listens to you more than he ever listened to me. It would be embarrassing for a police officer to get another ticket for parking in a no-parking zone.”

“He’s doing very well,” Aveline replied. Her tone held a hint of censure. “He’s a hard worker, you know. A good addition to the precinct. And yes, he listens well, so no complaints there.” Aveline shot her a sideways look. “It’s been a while since you’ve seen each other, hasn’t it?”

Rynne shrugged casually. “Yep.” It had been about six months, in fact. But it was better this way. It wasn’t like Carver wanted to see her, anyway.

She changed the subject. “What are you doing out in these parts, anyway?” she asked. “I thought you were more of a desk jockey these days. Are half of the precinct on vacation or something?”

Aveline pursed her lips again. “A good captain keeps her eyes and ears on the street whenever she has a chance,” she announced. She gave Hawke a knowing look. “You should be grateful that I’m out and about. You’d be roadkill otherwise.”

“That I would,” Rynne chuckled, and she slipped her hand through the crook of Aveline’s arm. “Care to escort me the rest of the way to Athenril’s, just in case I decide to wander into traffic again?”

Aveline smiled. “I’m afraid not. I’ll be leaving you here, actually. I’m off to the docks.” She patted Rynne’s hand, then pulled away. “Be careful,” she warned. “Volume down!”

“Yeah, all right!” Rynne waved and popped her earphones back in at full volume, then pulled her phone out again.

No further texts from Fenris. The ball was still in her court.

2:40pm - hey, those blackout curtains are necessary ok 2:40pm - you don’t know this, but im actually a vampire 2:41pm - i spontaneously combust in direct sunlight 2:41pm - none of that sparkly diamond skin twilight bullshit. i’m the real deal

She held her phone loosely in her hand as she strolled along. When he didn’t reply a few minutes later, she lifted her phone and tapped out another message.

2:44pm - what are you up to today? wanna hang out later?

She sent the message before she could stop to think twice. Maybe she was being overeager, but she’d really enjoyed spending time with him last night. They were both off work until Tuesday, and if she had to wait that long to see him again, she would drive Piper up the wall with her gushing.

By the time she reached Athenril’s coffee shop, he still hadn’t replied. But as luck would have it, he didn’t need to. As Rynne stepped into the cafe, she instantly spotted a familiar black-clad and hooded figure standing at the counter with his hands shoved into his pockets.

She grinned, then sashayed over to him and leaned against the counter. “Excuse me, sir. Are you a janitor? Because you’ve swept me off my feet.”

Fenris recoiled at her abrupt appearance, then his eyebrows rose as he recognized her. “Hawke! What are you doing here?”

“Inspecting the goods, of course,” she said. She bit her lip and gave him a coy smile.

To her slight disappointment, he didn’t smirk in return. Instead, he ran a hand over his hood and dropped his gaze.

Rynne straightened up. “I’m picking up an order,” she explained. “It’s our usual after-party thing. Unfortunately, I drew the short straw for pick-up today.” She stood on her tiptoes and waved at Emile, who held up two fingers to her.

She nodded, then turned back to Fenris. “Did you get my text?” she asked brightly.

“I did,” he confirmed. And he said nothing more.

Rynne frowned slightly. He wasn’t looking her in the eye. Maybe he was just really focused on getting his coffee, but she was getting a distinctly weird vibe from him.

Well, he’d been weird when she first him, and that hadn’t thrown her off. “So. What are you up to today?” she said. “Want to come over and hang out with us?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t,” he said. “I’ve… I have errands to look after.” He nodded at the barista as she handed him his coffee, then turned away from the counter and from Rynne.

Her stomach started writhing. What was wrong with him? Had she done something wrong? She could hear Isabela’s voice in her mind telling her to brush him off and let it go, but Rynne’s shameless, prideless tongue wouldn’t stop wagging.

She followed him as he moved toward the door. “Do you want to go for dinner with me?” she blurted. “There’s an Antivan tapas place that just opened in Hightown. I haven’t been there yet, but Varric said the fish tacos are to die for.”

“No,” Fenris said bluntly. “I mean - no, thank you. I will see you on Tuesday.” He finally looked her in the eye - the briefest, most neutral look - then pushed open the door to the coffee shop and left.

Rynne stood dumbly near the door as she watched him leave. Then she slowly made her way back to the counter.

“Hé, Hawke!” Emile glided over and handed her a tray of drinks and a paper bag as he reeled off their regular order. “One Nevarran spiced chai, one espresso, one black drip coffee and one Arlathan apple spice, and one mixed box of Orlesian petit-fours… hey, are you okay?”

She hauled her face into a smile. “Yeah,” she lied. “I just remembered I haven’t done my taxes yet.”

Emile’s face fell. “Ah merde, I haven’t either! My father will have a fit…” He pulled his phone from his pocket and began madly tapping at the screen.

Hawke grimaced guiltily and backed away from the counter. “Er, sorry! I’ll, uh, see you later.” She hurried away from the counter and left the cafe, but as soon as she was on the street again, she let her smile fall away.

Her chest felt heavy, like someone had dropped a pile of rocks into her rib cage. Why was Fenris being so cold? Maybe she’d said something stupid last night that she didn’t remember. She had been pretty drunk by the end of the night. Maybe they’d argued about something

Or maybe she was just a deluded idiot, and he wasn’t actually interested in her at all.

She pulled her sunglasses down to hide her burning eyes. It doesn’t matter. He’s just a boy, she told herself. A handsome, intelligent boy with hidden depths, but still just a boy. As Isabela would say, boys come and go - literally and metaphorically - and they were imminently replaceable.

Maybe if she kept telling this to herself, the stupid childish pain in her chest would go away.

Maybe if she kept telling this to herself, she would start to believe it.

********************

Hawke slid Fenris’s water with lime across the bar. “Hey,” she said.

He nodded. “Hawke,” he greeted, but she’d already glided away to the other side of the bar.

Fenris watched her wistfully for a moment, then lifted his water and turned around on his stool to face the rest of the pub. The Hanged Man was relatively quiet, as was usual for a Tuesday; they didn’t do karaoke on Tuesdays, so the customary mix of 80s new wave and 90s grunge was pumping through the speakers and carrying the conversational susurrus of the laid-back post-work crowd.

Fenris sighed quietly. He slid his hand into his pocket and idly toyed with his phone. This was the first contact he’d had with Hawke since he’d run into her at Athenril’s cafe on Sunday. She hadn’t sent him a single text since then.

She’d only started texting him regularly about a week ago, but it was odd how quickly he’d become accustomed to the presence of her sunny swearing and ridiculous typos on his phone. Since the run-in on Sunday, she’d gone completely radio silent. It was…

Necessary, he told himself. It was necessary. She was getting too close, and Fenris couldn’t let that happen. The closer she got, the more dangerous it was for them both.

He’d been a fool at the party on Saturday. On the balcony during that moment of weakness, he’d told her Danarius’s name, and it was a foolish fucking mistake. Knowing even that much information was a risk to them both. What if she tried to Google Danarius, and someone was spying on her search histories and tracked her down to get information about Fenris’s whereabouts? Fenris used a VPN for all his online browsing, but Rynne didn’t seem the type to care about that kind of thing. Fenris wasn’t ready for Danarius and his men to come after him. He needed more time.

If Hawke learned anything more about Fenris, it could compromise his goals. His revenge would be at stake. Worse yet, Hawke herself would be in danger, and Fenris’s blood ran cold at the thought of any harm coming to her.

He briefly turned back to the bar and lifted his water. As he sipped from his glass, he glanced at Hawke again; she was leaning her elbows on the bar and giggling with a pair of businessmen.

“Puppy eyes.”

He turned and met Piper’s shrewd amber gaze. “What was that?”

“Puppy eyes,” she repeated. “That’s what Merrill would call your face right now.” Her eyebrows were lifted and her lips were pursed; her expression was the definition of unimpressed.

Fenris frowned and turned away. “There are no puppy eyes.”

Piper snorted. She leaned over the bar and stared at the side of his face. “This would be cute if we were all sixteen. News flash: we’re not. We’re all fucking adults.”

Fenris refused to look at her. He restlessly ran his thumb across his phone. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes you do,” Piper retorted. For a long moment, she stared fixedly at him as though he was a bizarre piece of art, then straightened up and wafted away.

Fenris scowled at her slender back, then replaced his glass of water on the bar and went to sit by the door of the Hanged Man. Only one bouncer was needed on Tuesdays to monitor the inside the pub, but Fenris couldn’t help but wish he could sit outside today.

An agonizing few hours later, after the waitstaff had cleaned up and gone home, Fenris made his way to the bar while Piper and Hawke were starting to lay out the cash. But before he could say goodnight, Piper raised her eyebrows at him.

“I have to leave early,” she said.

Hawke’s head whipped up at her words. “What? Since when?”

“Since two hours ago,” Piper said pertly. “Cullen got off work early tonight, so guess who else will be getting off early?” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Hawke groaned and rolled her eyes. “Wow. That was a stretch, even for you.”

Piper snickered and bumped Hawke’s hip. “It was clever and you know it.” She smiled as Hawke chuckled, then turned back to Fenris. “Can you help Hawke to count the cash?”

Fenris tensed, and Hawke’s grin immediately slid away. “What? No! I can do it on my own-”

Piper flapped her hands. “No, Fenris can help.” She looked at him. “I asked Varric already, he’s paying you for an extra hour. That works out for everyone, right?” Piper’s tone was light and friendly, but her eyes were like daggers on his face.

He clenched his jaw and gave her a hard stare, but her strong chin was belligerently lifted, and… well, the whole point of being here was the money. If he was being paid for an extra hour…

He turned his gaze to Hawke. “I’ll help. Tell me what to do, and it is done.”

Hawke stared at him for a second, then smiled tightly and shoved a pile of twenties toward him. “Fine. I hope you can do math.”

He frowned slightly. “Of course I can.” He sat on a bar stool across from her and lifted the pile of bills.

“Good,” Hawke said. “Because I can’t. Pipes is the brains of this operation.”

Piper laughed. “Nice try, bitch. You’re brilliant too.” She checked her phone, then hitched her purse onto her shoulder and waved at them. “Cullen’s just outside. Have a good night!”

“Bye. I hate you,” Hawke called to her departing back.

“Love you too!” Piper chirped, and then she was gone, leaving Fenris and Hawke alone.

Hawke stared blankly at him for a second, then shot him an alarmingly bright smile. “Who wants a drink?” She turned away and grabbed a lower-shelf bottle of tequila, then pulled out two shot glasses.

“Oh. Er - perhaps just one-” Fenris said dumbly, but Hawke was already pouring him a shot.

The pushed the tiny glass of tequila across the bar to him, then poured one for herself and immediately drank it. “Want a piece of peach with that?” she asked. “Piper calls it Fen’harel’s Fuzzy Cock. Well, she does when we add some lime juice to it. Three ingredients makes it a cocktail.” She winked at him as she poured herself a second shot.

“No,” Fenris said. “No peach is necessary.” He downed the shot and winced at the harsh burn of cheap liquor, then began counting the stack of twenties.

Hawke chattered the entire time they were counting the cash. Fenris listened as she complained about her favourite food stand in Lowtown closing last week and an outlandish anime she’d just finished watching and how she was planning a trip to Rivain in a couple of months. He watched with no small amount of wonder as she managed to swiftly count the cash and write the amounts on a spreadsheet while simultaneously talking and pouring them shot after shot of tequila.

By the time the task was almost done, Fenris was feeling a little hazy from the drinks, and he wasn’t sure how helpful he had ultimately been. “You may want to check this,” he confessed as he pushed a pile of dimes toward her. “I counted twenty-three, but I… I may have miscounted.”

She grinned at him. Her coppery eyes were brilliant from the booze. “Some helper you are,” she teased. She quickly counted the coins again, her face briefly furrowing into a frown as she counted them, then gave him a satisfied smile. “You’re good,” she said, and she wrote the amount on her spreadsheet, then began to tally it all up with a calculator.

Fenris watched her as she worked. She hummed to herself as she tapped in the numbers, some song that was vaguely familiar to him from earlier that night. Her face was peaceful and her tiny smile was sweet, and…

Venhedis, he wished his life really were this simple. If only he really was just a man working at a pub with a beautiful woman who hummed happy songs while she counted the cash. But this kind of simplicity, of uncomplicated peace and quiet… This was as foreign to Fenris as his native language was to her, and there was no point pining for something so bright when all his future held was blood.

She looked up from her spreadsheet and tapped at the computer over the till, then punched her fist in the air. “Yesss. Counted the cash while drunk. Pipes and Varric will be so proud! Or horrified. I can’t decide.” She grinned at him, but her smile froze when she met his eyes.

He stared at her, unable to breathe and unable to look away from her stricken expression. Then she dropped her eyes and began replacing the cash into the drawer. “Fenris, can you put the bigger bills into that envelope, we’ll lock it up separately in the safe-”

He reached out and took her hand. “Hawke,” he blurted, “I… I am sorry.”

Her hands went still, and her eyes darted back to his face. “Sorry for what?” she said faintly.

He hesitated as he realized that he wasn’t entirely sure what to apologize for. He hadn’t forced Hawke to talk to him, after all. She’d flirted with him and garnered his unwavering attention without any particular encouragement from him. He hadn’t asked her to be his friend. He hadn’t asked her to become the first person he’d trusted in a very long time. If he was sorry for anything, it was that he’d indulged her incessant attempts at conversation and gotten them both into this uncomfortable position in the first place.

But he couldn’t tell her that, not without explaining why they couldn’t be… whatever she clearly wanted this to be. Finally he settled on a cheap diversion. “You’re a beautiful woman. Is there no one else who has your attention?”

Her eyebrows leapt high on her forehead, and she smiled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that first part.”

He gave her a chiding look. “I’m a Tevinter gangster with years’ worth of blood on my hands,” he said bluntly. “None of those things bother you?”

She turned her hand in his grip and squeezed his fingers. “You’re not a gangster anymore,” she said.

A wriggle of guilt burrowed into Fenris’s belly, but Hawke wasn’t finished. “Besides, if I was interested in anyone else, I’d be with them. I’m only interested in you.”

He stared at her with growing puzzlement. “Why?” he said hoarsely. Now that he thought about it, he genuinely wasn’t sure why she was so drawn to him. He wasn’t even particularly nice to her. Kaffas, he’d been a downright ass the last time he’d seen her, and purposely so.

She raised an eyebrow and smiled slowly at him. “What, you want me to list all the reasons?”

With horror, he realized that it indeed sounded like he’d been soliciting compliments. “No,” he said hastily, but it was too late; she was already pouring more shots and talking.

“You’re smart. You’re funny when you’re in the mood. When you’re not in the mood, your angry face makes me want to rip my clothes off. I…” She trailed off and ran a hand through her tufty hair. “You get me, Fenris. Or I thought you did.” She downed the shot and poured herself another. “It also doesn’t hurt that you’re fucking gorgeous.” She tilted her head. “Why are you asking me this? Do you like me?”

With a slightly shaking hand, he gulped the shot she’d poured, then watched as she filled his glass again. “That is not the issue,” he hedged. “Whether I like you or not is irrel-”

She bluntly cut him off. “It’s a simple question, Fenris,” she said. “Do you like me, or don’t you? I can’t tell, you see. I need you to break it down for me like the idiot that I am.”

He shook his head in growing exasperation. This was not where he’d meant this conversation to go. Where… where had he meant this conversation to go? He couldn’t quite remember.

He lifted the shot glass to his lips. “We shouldn’t be together,” he insisted, then downed the shot.

She frowned, then placed her glass on the bar with a clatter and poured two more. “I told you stuff about me that no one else knows. And I thought… I thought it was the same for you. Was I wrong?”

“N-no,” Fenris said. He was feeling increasingly agitated. He was starting to get the distinct sense that he was being interrogated; ironic, since he was the one who had clumsily started this conversation.

“Then what’s the problem?” she asked. “Do do you like me or not? That’s all that-”

“Yes,” he finally snapped. “Yes, I do, all right? I like you, Hawke. I think about you, and… in fact, I’ve been able to think of little else.” He snatched the shot from the bar and gulped it in one big swallow, then slammed the glass on the bar and glared at her.

Her mouth had dropped into a comical little ‘o’. Fenris dragged a hand through his hair. “Why are you staring at me like that?” he demanded.

Her expression slowly lifted into a brilliant smile. “I didn’t expect you to say ‘yes’,” she said. Then she burst into laughter.

Fenris planted one elbow on the bar and pointed at her accusingly. “You see? This - your - you laugh like this and it… You drive me mad with your incessant flirting and your laughing and that macabre little dress of yours with the skulls-”

“Oh, that dress,” she drawled. Her voice was vibrant with mirth, like laughter smoothed and curled into speech. “You liked that dress, did you?”

“I…” He buried his spinning head in his hands, then scowled at her again. “I wanted to peel it off and watch it pooling around your feet,” he growled.

Her eyes widened, and Fenris watched with a nearly-vindictive rush of satisfaction as her cheeks turned pink. “Well, fuck me sideways,” she breathed.

Her evocative curse painted a brilliant picture in his mind: Hawke naked and sweaty, stretched on her side while he slid up behind her and stroked the inside of her thigh…

A roar of heat blazed through his chest from throat to groin, and he dragged in a heavy breath. His eyes were fixed on her lips, her plump and parted lips, and suddenly it felt like he couldn’t catch his breath, not even if he was panting for it.

Then Hawke lunged toward him and hooked her hand around the back of his neck, and before he could do more than gasp in surprise, she was kissing him.

Hawke was kissing him. Hawke’s lips, her fingers on his neck, it was… she was…

The next thing he knew, he was on his feet with one hand gripping her short dark hair as he leaned over the bar and kissed her back, and she was whimpering against his lips like the wanton little thing she was. There was a faint clatter of coins as she splayed her palm on the bar - the bar, the fucking blasted bar that stood between them, separating them and stopping them from doing something stupid-

She petted his neck and released a tiny sob of want when he nipped her lower lip. “Fenris,” she begged. “I want - I…”

“Come here,” he breathed. This was a foolish thing to do, an act of complete idiocy, but Fenris couldn’t stop: he was drunk on her, intoxicated by the reddened look of her lips and the taste of tequila on her tongue and the sheer shining joy in her eyes, and he wanted this more than he’d ever wanted anything in his cursed life.

Hawke smiled against his lips, then pushed away from the bar and hefted herself onto its surface, and Fenris gaped at her as she clumsily scrambled over the bar and onto her feet beside him.

She grabbed the lapels of his jacket. “Now, where were we?”

He didn’t waste his breath replying. He dragged her against his body and slid his thigh between her legs, then swallowed her rapturous cry with another kiss.

She slid her tongue against his own, then broke away with a moan as he slipped his fingers into her loose camisole and up along her ribs. “Fucking Maker’s balls,” she whined, then she gasped and thrust her hips against his leg as he snuck his fingers under her bra and pinched her nipple.

He breathed hard as he palmed her pert little breast. His body was thrumming, heavy and pulsing with the strength of his need for her, and he hadn’t felt this way in years. He hadn’t wanted this in years, not since he’d had the tattoos branded on his skin. The tattoos represented so many layers of resistance, of pain and emptiness and regret. Especially since leaving Tevinter, Fenris hadn’t wanted to be seen with these metaphorical scars staining his skin.

But in this moment, he would strip himself bare in the space of a second if it meant Hawke would strip herself as well.

He carefully licked her lower lip. “Let’s leave,” he whispered.

She pressed her lips together, then gasped again as he pinched her nipple harder. “Oh fuck,” she whined. “I… Fenris, we have to lock up the cash, I can’t just…”

He growled in frustration, and she laughed breathily. “You making that sound does not make this easier for me,” she panted. She pushed gently at his chest.

He reluctantly allowed her to step away, then penned her between his body and the bar. “A renegade with a work ethic?” he whispered in her ear.

She shivered prettily, and her hands were clumsy as she collected the cash. “Exactly,” she replied. “Never let it be said that I shirked my duties to this lovable dump.” She shoved the bigger bills into an envelope and replaced the remaining money in the drawer, then picked it all up and shifted away from him. “I’ll be super quick, I promise.”

He allowed her to move away, then shamelessly watched as she hurried to Varric’s office and let herself inside. While Hawke locked up the cash in Varric’s safe, Fenris pulled up his hood and wandered restlessly toward the door.

This was a bad idea, and he knew it. It was stupid and irresponsible, and he suspected that he was going to regret it tomorrow, but it just felt so fucking right. The lingering feeling of Hawke’s hands on his skin, stroking his neck and pressing against his chest - it warmed and riled him the more he thought about it. He thought about her lips and the sharp taste of her tongue, and it was so fucking wrong and selfish and unfair, and he was powerless to stop.

The distinct click of a lock caught his attention. He turned to see Hawke hurrying toward him with her phone in her hand. “I called an Uber,” she said. “It’ll be here in two minutes.”

Two minutes. He had two minutes to do the right thing. To tell her this was a mistake, that he was a complete and utter ass whose only legacy was a trail of bodies and blood and death, and that she should write him off altogether…

She slid her palms along his abs and lifted herself on her toes. “Kiss me while we wait,” she whispered.

He instinctively gripped her hips as she leaned into his chest. “You’re very demanding,” he said.

“Of course I am. This is everything I wanted,” she retorted. She bit her lip, and her gaze drifted up to his eyes. “You’re all I think about, too,” she murmured.

And just like that, Fenris was sunk. His resistance and his reasons were gone, obliterated by the woman in his arms, and in the muddled mess of his sex-scrambled mind, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

In this moment, all he cared about was her: the charming and infuriating woman in his arms, with all her merriness and her melancholy. And for tonight, Fenris was hers.

#fenris #fenris fic #fenris modern AU #fenris smut #damned spot #fenhawke #fenris/hawke #fenris x hawke #fenris/femhawke #fenris x femhawke #fenris/f!hawke #fenris x f!hawke #pikapeppa writes

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smokeybrand · 4 years ago

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Smokey brand Movie Reviews: Run it Back

The Good

The Bad

The Verdict

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chemochronicles · 7 years ago

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I am not alone. You are not alone. 9.18.17.

Ever since I was a little girl I've pictured a life for myself... One that resembled the life I was given. (Unfortunately for me, I was the spoiled youngest child of an upper middle class family, haha - talk about a reality check as a millennial living in expensive southern california!) That picture has changed as I have grown as a person, but it never strayed too far from the lives of everyone I've been surrounded by throughout life so far... I pictured my 25 year old self to be married (check!), travel often, with children that look like tiny adorable versions of us, a modern farmhouse, pretty flowing beach hair, a successful photography business, a lifestyle blog and the physical ability to care for the aforementioned list... I pictured myself having the strength and energy to lift my babies into my arms, to sew the cutest linen clothes for them, to teach them how to grow their own food on our homestead, and to build healthy and meaningful lives with their tiny growing hands. I picture myself pursuing my portrait photography business again. Creating fine art prints in my own studio that would create photos that remind parents why they get up in the morning. Making art that takes a mother's breath away when she sees it on her wall each morning and makes her feel things. Makes her grateful. I want my life to consist of working with my hands... showing up, living. Lately those things are pretty hard for me to do (show up and live, I mean).

"Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong." -2 Corinthians 12:8-10

The days are growing longer. I am weary. I don't want to complain, I am not angry with God. I know He has me here for a reason, He has my women's bible study going through the book of James this semester and I know that's no coincidence. I want to paint a picture for you what a day in my life looks like. NOT for your sympathy. NOT for your recognition or praises. FOR you. FOR you to be thankful for each little gift you've been given that you might be completely unaware of and are possibly wasting. (Like I did, before all of this) OR maybe this is for you, just to know that you're not the only one who's life isn't as cute and perfect as the (probably insecure and depressed) people you follow on instagram! YOU ARE NOT ALONE. And neither am I. And with that said, I'm actively making an effort to be aware of MY gifts too. Life has been very hard so far, but I still have good things. And you do too. Let's not waste them by letting Satan distract our attention away from God's goodness.

In 2010, when I was diagnosed with aggressive leukemia at 19, I thought life was really hard. And it was... but honestly, when I look back at those three formative years that were taken captive by chemo, that was actually easier than dealing with my Chronic Graft vs Host Disease today. That season of cancer was preparing me for this... This slow...and steady... endurance.

It seems like each morning I wake up with new symptoms, each more scary and with more potential to be life threatening than the one before... I have no idea what my life will look like next month, or next year, or in 10 years if the Lord still has me living on this earth. Will I eventually need to be in a wheelchair from how this GVHD is effecting my muscles, and bones? Or carry around with me a supplemental oxygen tank for GVHD of the lungs? Will I need dentures from gum disease and tooth decay that this GVHD of the mouth has given me? Don't even get me started on the ramifications if any of those one things happened... let alone all of them. The emotional toll of living life in extreme dependence of God and everyone around me... The stress that would put on Caleb to live like that?? The potential.. the anxious thought and fear keeps me in prayer.without.ceasing. I'm learning, unfortunately, that those things do happen to some people with GVHD. Not everyone, but some! It's moving in that direction for me more than I expected (I didn't expect it at all. I expected the pretty picture that I painted for you earlier)... and I already know that if I don't continue doing physical therapy stretches on my mouth throughout the day I will lose the ability to speak and eat without a feeding tube.

I'm overwhelmed and out of breath (literally on the couch gasping for as I type this in "notes" on my iPhone... this symptom is new) I'm thankful to have the strength to attend church, but I miss being able to see my friends off in the distance, to hurry to them and to hug them without any physical struggle holding me back. I miss being able to smile at strangers and acquaintances without hesitating. Because of GVHD of the mucous membrane (that's the inside skin/all openings including the mouth/gums) I haven't been able to eat a normal meal without difficulty since June. And I haven't had a flavorful, spicy meal in 2 years. I'll likely need gum surgery and at least one tooth removed in the next few months, and I'm only less than 2 years past my transplant And that's only the mouth.. I also have this GVHD blister on my lip that won't go away, it's been there for two months and sometimes it will crack and randomly gushes blood a few times a day and hurts to the point of forming tears... Which can get awkward when you're by yourself at Trader Joe's! That's the only visible issue I think. But you know what, actually... it's happened enough times in the last two months that I'm kind of used to being more confidently transparent with strangers. Which I feel like has been helpful, to be honest about the struggle in a lighthearted way. It normalizes trials. (Hey! #normalizetrials! I'm joking but did I just make up a thing?! 😉 except I feel that we should add "with joy" because otherwise that hashtag would become a toxic tunnel of self absorbed whiners. #normalizetrialswithjoy, there we go!) Because life is hard for everyone. Not just me, not just orphans in Africa, not just foster kids, not just the wealthy people in the world who can't buy their happiness, and not just you, whoever you are and whatever burden you're bearing (or about to bear).

If the peace and joy that I have that only comes from The One True God, can point someone (anyone) who feels lost towards having this same hope and joy for themselves, well then... this very long (and possibly permanent) season of suffering would be worth it for me. I do miss kissing Caleb though. If you're a prayer, can you pray that my lip heals so I can kiss him again!? It's not a silly prayer. Kisses matter. 😘

Caleb and I started reading Randy Alcorn's Heaven this week and it has ministered to my soul in such a sweet way, and I had this realization...

I may never be a mother...

I may never be healthy again...

I may never have the life that I expected God to give me...

I may never live to be 30... or 40... or 50...

(or maybe those never's may never happen!)

And God is still GOOD?

God is still Good.

Earlier this week... I wanted to die---(Ok, ok I'm sorry to be dramatic! Correction: Heaven sounds really *incredible* and chronic pain really *isn't*.) After reading and speculating about heaven, and after a very long and painful day, I prayed that God would either heal me or take me home. I begged him not to give me a life of long-suffering at the extreme of others with cGVHD that I've seen. I prayed it as I sobbed uncontrollably in my bed, muffling my tears in my pillow, hoping I wouldn't wake Caleb (who was waking up at 4am that particular morning.) I prayed it over and over for hours. For nights on end. Life has been painful and physically exhausting which is emotionally exhausting. It is physically difficult to move my muscles to get out of bed. To move from my room to the kitchen and to go to the bathroom. It hurts to sit and it hurts to stand and it hurts to walk. I am only comfortable in one position, and that is when I'm laying on the couch sitting up with my legs relaxed in front of me. With my cute ferocious little pomeranian, Danger happily snuggling on my lap. I thought that I would start to feel better as time went on after my cancer treatment, but this past year or so I seem to only feel worse... I'm doing everything humanly possible to improve my quality of life and ability to function... and though my efforts may be toning down many symptoms, it's still hard to function.

And THEN I read Hebrews 12:1-2 "Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God. "

My health is a heavy WEIGHT that I carry around on my back. My sin CLINGS SO CLOSELY like an annoying fly that lingers by my food on a hot summer's day. That sin tempts me to want to throw in the towel. But Jesus WEPT in that garden the night before He was crucified. He SUFFERED. He asked God (with willingness and submission) to take that cup from Him, and I'll continue to ask God (with willingness and submission) to take this cup from me. And Jesus still died on that cross even though He didn't want to endure that. He still gave God honor and glory as He endured that trial that He didn't enjoy. And because of that devastating experience that Christ endured because of MY SIN... I have hope of eternal LIFE. So who am I to just give up on this life and these hard things that God has allowed me to endure, because I'm uncomfortable and in pain? I know I'm not the only one out there who’s in pain. But am I the only one out there who’s in this much pain, yet has this much hope? I hope not...

If Jesus Christ can walk on this earth perfectly and suffer the ultimate long, painful, blood curdling pain SO THAT I HAVE THE OPTION to choose hope over this meaningless, sin-filled, cesspool crap-town of a depressing world, then I refuse to disrespect His name by giving up the hope that He paid for me with His own blood. Jesus didn't die so that I could live a comfortable life on earth, too preoccupied with all the pretty things to need Him. So that I could throw a tantrum when things didn't go my way. He died because He loved me (even though I didn't do anything to deserve it). So the LEAST I can do is endure through this hard life for His sake, like He did for me out of His pure undeserved love. Except I'm not capable of doing it perfectly like He did. So He did it perfectly for me. Then died in the most brutal, slow and painful way ever. Then He conquered death by resurrecting like it was prophesied thousands of years prior. It's pretty cool! And He's coming back soon. And I am so ready for it.

So if you'd like to pray, please pray for my health and for my heart. And for my sweet husband who never stops dying to himself for me (even without stomping his feet or slamming the door or rolling his eyes) and for everyone else he comes into contact with.

MORE SPECIFIC HEALTH PRAYER:

I started a brand new medication last month, it's the first official FDA approved medication for Chronic Graft vs Host disease, it was prescribed to me a few days after being approved last month. It's so new that there's really hardly any research done about it, not even any contraindications known if you google it. IF it's going to work for me, it'll start to kick in within the next week or two. If it works, it hypothetically would help ALL of my cGVHD symptoms Lord willing for as long as possible. And If it doesn't, the rest of my life will likely consist of chronic pain, fatigue and lots of endurance. And growth. And regardless, even still: God's goodness. As I'm writing this I'm laying on the couch with my adorable fluffy puppy snuggling in my lap, having trouble breathing and feel dizzy, but I'm comfortable. It's hard to even focus on writing and articulating thoughts when I feel this way, but I need to get them out. I need you, whoever you are to know exactly what gifts you've been given and to take the time to appreciate them. Or to know that you're not alone in your pains, but press on! Lets normalize trials with joy and be honest with others. Let's not minimize other people's pain. Your pain isn't invalid just because it's different then mine. ❤️

My sister reminded me today of Joni Erickson Tada. What a light she has been to so many... and I can only imagine that she probably had those dreams as a girl like I have and do. And God had a different plan for her... and she is so beautiful, so whole. Full of so much joy. I am no comparison to someone like Joni and all she's endured with such grace... but what we have in common is that our lives have not gone according to our plans, our lives have not been comfortable and they have been filled with physical and emotional pain. But we both have hope in so much more than our physical comfort. We have hope in the gospel.

This is what I'm preaching to myself:

ALL OF JAMES 1 ALL THE TIME

2 Corinthians 12:8-10 From Paul, who went through way more pain and persecution and trials than my tiny brain can ever comprehend. "Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong."

Hebrews 12:7-11 "It is for discipline that you have to endure. God is treating you as sons. For what son is there whom his father does not discipline? If you are left without discipline, in which all have participated, then you are illegitimate children and not sons. Besides this, we have had earthly fathers who disciplined us and we respected them. Shall we not much more be subject to the Father of spirits and live? For they disciplined us for a short time as it seemed best to them, but he disciplines us for our good, that we may share his holiness. For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it."

So in light of that Heavenly Father's disciplining love...

"Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord." -Romans 8:35, 38-39

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him. Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe is condemned already, because he has not believed in the name of the only Son of God. And this is the judgment: the light has come into the world, and people loved the darkness rather than the light because their works were evil. For everyone who does wicked things hates the light and does not come to the light, lest his works should be exposed. But whoever does what is true comes to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that his works have been carried out in God.” -John 3:16-21

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pyxel-spree · 7 years ago

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Types of Teachers Masterpost

*squeals* first masterpost yay! And if you can’t already tell, this particular masterpost is about dealing with your teachers. When you click with them, your teachers can be some of the most helpful people on the planet. But if you’re struggling with a teacher that’s mean, irritable, incompetent, or unhelpful, this post will hopefully help you handle them. Note that some teachers can be combinations of the types below.

Alright, let’s begin!

Speed Racer: This teacher is fast. Really fast. They cover all their material like it is an Olympic sprinting contest. No daydreaming permitted in this class-lost time will guarantee that you’ll miss material. The pros? You definitely won’t get bored in this class, and this teacher definitely knows their stuff. The cons? Well, there’s only one, really. If you don’t work your butt off, you’re going to be left behind.

how do i handle?: take really good notes, especially if the class is something that you’re not naturally good at. form a study group with people who are both better at you in the class and worse at you in the class. if you can explain the material to each other, chances are you understand. don’t be afraid to talk to your teacher after class and ask for clarification or extra practice. bring friends if possible as backup! if they see that you are committed to getting better at the subject they will be more willing to help you. do not complain about how hard the class is to your teacher, however. teachers like this cannot be swayed by whining, and it will not endear you to them. also, if you’re really struggling, don’t feel pressured to pull a big fat a+, and drop the class if it’s becoming a strain on your mental health. work as hard as you can, but reasonably. there will be other classes. no need to beat yourself up over this one.

Preacher-Teacher: This teacher will often tell you that they’re not here to teach you x subject, they’re here to teach you “life.” Generally, a middle-aged to elderly teacher. They are prone to long, painfully boring lectures, and one student making a mistake will often lead to the whole class getting a “lesson.” Favorite phrases include “back in my day.” A blowhard.

how do i handle?: realize that this teacher, for the most part, genuinely cares about you and the rest of the class. they may seem annoying or trite, but they are actually trying to help you, albeit somewhat ineffectually. if you get lectured, stay calm. know that this does come from a good place, but this person also likes to hear the sound of their own voice, so if you disrespect them (i.e. visibly ignoring their lectures, which they regard as gems of once-in-a-lifetime advice), they will only continue to lecture, only this time louder and angrier. stay polite, stay calm, and stay respectful, and you should never have a problem with this teacher.

Friendly Fire: This teacher is noted for their snarkiness and for making fun of their students. This is done jokingly, never maliciously, but their sarcastic wit can make you unclear where you really stand with them and when they are actually serious.

how do i handle?: honestly, just play it by ear. if this teacher is really mad at you, they will drop the sassy thing pretty fast. also, prepare to get embarrassed by this teacher if you are caught doing something stupid. if you are shy, don’t be afraid of them, they will allow you to joke with them as long as you keep it reasonable. and if for whatever reason this teacher actually crosses the line with you, talk to them about it after class. just say, “hey mr./mrs/ms. so-and-so, i really don’t like it when you joke about this thing. it kind of hurts my feelings because of x, and if you would just not do that in the future i would appreciate it a lot.” they will listen to you, because this teacher’s main goal is to be liked by their students. if something makes you uncomfortable, they will not do it.

Mock’n’ Roll: Not to be confused with Friendly Fire. This teacher makes fun of students in a cruel or unpleasant way. It is clear that they are not joking when they say these things, and they will often cross the line between what is acceptable and what is not. Students are afraid to speak in class because they don’t want to be targets.

how do i handle?: this teacher is a serious problem, especially if they make you feel unsafe. if this is an issue that you are having, talk to an administrator with other students. do not confront the teacher about their behavior. they are going to tell you you are being too sensitive, and chances are they will up the ante even more. if possible, get parents to complain as well. if enough people are upset with this behavior, the teacher will be forced to change, or at least there will be some oversight.

Big Ideas/No Ideas: This teacher is erratic and obsessive, switching things around often. They’ve seen this cool idea on teacher Pinterest and they’ve decided that they absolutely must use it in their classroom. This is used for two weeks, then is dropped and replaced with another idea. The classroom looks like a paint bomb hit it. Art, group projects, sitting at tables or beanbags instead of desks, and other such clever concepts are the norm. Although the teacher longs to be perceived as fun, many students find the constant change of plans confusing and frustrating, and more work goes into redecorating the classroom then actually teaching anything.

how do i handle?: stay calm. don’t let this teacher’s indecisiveness ruin your interest in studying this subject. if you’re serious about learning, study on your own or with friends who are like-minded. go along with the teacher’s style, but if they ever ask for feedback (which this type loves to do because they really want you to tell them how great their class is) give them honest, but respectful answers. say, for example, “i really liked it when we did x and y throughout the year, but i’m a little confused as to the point of z.” they probably won’t take your feedback, but on the off chance they do, it’s always good to say something. the good news is, this class is rarely too difficult because of this teacher’s loose style, so passing will probably not be a problem.

The Nitpicker: This teacher is really petty. They will deduct points from your work for incorrect headings, misspellings, you name it, if they can take points off for it, they will. Thinks their class is more important than any other. While their directions are always clear, having a different essay format can cost you nearly your entire grade. Excuses for late work or missing assignments are seldom accepted, and even then only in the most extenuating of circumstances.

how do i handle?: good news is, this teacher is so rule-oriented you can use this to your advantage. have a list of the rules on hand when you are doing their work, and triple-check everything after you are done to make sure you won’t lose points for something silly like forgetting your name. as stupid as it seems, these petty little rules are the teacher’s way of exerting control over you and your classmates. and if you rebel against them, your grade will suffer for it. better to just grin and bear it. also, it helps to have a planner so you can make sure you don’t turn in anything late. and if you have a really serious circumstance that your teacher will not make allowances for, talk to administration.

BFF Teacher: This teacher wants to be seen as a friend to you and your classmates. They will often wear the same clothes that you and your friends are wearing, with interesting results. They will use your slang, and may even want to gossip about other students. May follow you on social media. A little creepy, but more just pathetic.

how do i handle?: as cringe-worthy as they are, these kinds of teachers are just desperate for you to like them. be polite, but you don’t have to follow them on instagram or snapchat if it makes you feel uncomfortable. it’s nice to have some boundaries.

If You’re Not on the Team Don’t Talk To Me: This teacher is a coach or mentor of some kind. Whatever activity they sponsor is their life, so much so that they may neglect their teaching duties in favor of the team. Meanwhile, kids on the team who are also in the class get special benefits, and they may offer extra credit to non-team members for helping them manage the team (giving money to the team, buying team shirts, etc.)

how do i handle?: this situation is frustrating, but don’t feel like you have to be on the team to survive this teacher. of course, join the team if it’s something you’re really into, but don’t just join to get an in with the teacher. chances are you will be miserable. remember, there are more important things in life than being one of this teacher’s favorites.

The Cult of the Sun King: If your school has one of these teachers, you probably know exactly who I’m describing without reading the description. For the rest of you, this is a teacher who has a small, but loyal following of students. Think favoritism on an extreme level. If you get on this teacher’s good side, the class will be easy, but if you make a poor first impression you are doomed for the rest of the year. The class will be legendarily demanding and probably take up much of your time. You will be warned by older students not to take it, and if you do, that you will fail.

how do i handle?: if you are in this class, try to stay on their good side. do your work and be respectful and polite. however, don’t feel the need to smarm up to the teacher like some of their following will. you don’t have to buy them snacks or gush over every lesson. fakery makes no friends, and the other students will see through it. the class is probably not as hard as people tell you it is, but probably will be challenging. if the class is unreasonably demanding (i.e. forcing you to stay up until four in the morning doing lab reports) or takes up time you’d rather use to do other things, drop it. you don’t need that kind of stress in your life.

Emotional Pendulum: This teacher is, for whatever reason, a hot mess. They will end up telling you way too much about their personal life, and they will be notorious for breaking down in tears or yelling at students over small offenses. They are dramatic, and they will take actions by one student as indicative of the behavior of the whole class. See the class as confidants. Inconsistent and fickle.

how do i handle?: keep your head down and do your work. accept that you cannot control the behavior of this teacher. do not attempt to argue or reason with them. this will only cause them to behave even more irrationally. don’t get angry at them, however-this teacher clearly has some personal problems that you do not know everything about. if it gets to be too much, contact administration.

Grumpy Gus: This teacher will never be in a good mood. Nothing you can do will ever seem good enough, and there is nothing you can do to break them out of their funk. Has a low tolerance for jokes of any kind. Bonus-plays no favorites because they hate everyone equally.

how do i handle?: don’t expect them to like you. even if you’ve always been the teacher’s favorite. it’s not going to work, and they’re going to mark you as a suck-up. conversely, don’t goof around or try to be funny, as this teacher has the world’s shortest fuse. however, you can count on this type to teach consistently. as long as you aren’t looking for a friend, this teacher is easy enough to manage.

Politically Active: You know where exactly on the political spectrum this teacher falls because they make it very clear. Not only do they go out of their way to tell you their politics, their whole class is an indoctrination on why their politics are right and anyone who disagrees with them is stupid. Although they may say that they are an “independent,” everyone in the class knows they are anything but. Usually a history or social studies teacher of some kind. May invite debate, but it is clear that students who disagree with them are immediately written off in their book.

how do i handle?: this can be hard, especially if your own politics are completely divergent from the teacher’s. even if you agree with the teacher, the blatant over-politicization of the class may be hard to take. just remember to think critically about everything they tell you and that there are at least two sides to every story. avoid debating this teacher, but if it is absolutely necessary, stick to your guns, but be respectful. you are entitled your own opinion, even if that puts you at odds with them.

Grade Games: This is not so much a teacher as a tactic. Essentially, the teacher in question will neglect to put in grades, avoid or be confrontational when asked about grades, and tell you that “grades are not the only thing that are important.” As a result, you feel unsure whether to come forward with any questions about grades.

how do i handle?: all right, i had two of these lovelies last year and i can tell you it is not fun. in my experience, if you do care about your grade, you have to confront this teacher about it. it’s hard, it’s annoying, and it may lead them to dislike you, but this is better than having a poor grade in the class. bother them about putting grades in. ask to see your grades. if your school has an online gradebook that you can access, look at it frequently. they won’t like you, but they’ll at least be careful when grading your work.

Cell Phone Appreciation: These are certain teachers who have very little control over the class. Generally these are gym or health classes, but they can be core classes as well. Students will disrespect teachers like this because they are pushovers. As a result, everyone in class will be on their phones or doing work for other classes. The teacher is powerless to stop this.

how do i handle?: you can’t make the teacher discipline these students, but if you want to get something out of the class, restrict your own screen time (even if other people aren’t) and try to pay as much attention as you can. the teacher will appreciate you for it, and you’ll see better grades than those who are horsing around.

The Comedian: Remember Michael from The Office? Remember how funny he thinks he is, but how un-funny/dorky/stupid he is in reality? Now dial that up to eleven and you’ve got the Comedian. This teacher thinks that they are hilarious. In reality, nobody thinks that this teacher is funny and everyone thinks they are weird and trying too hard. Some people laugh to be polite, but most don’t. Often this teacher is also a BFF Teacher.

how do i handle?: unfortunately, there’s no easy fix for this one. you can’t complain about them unless they joke about something that is really inappropriate, in which case they don’t really fit into this category. for this one, you’re just going to have to go with it. don’t be rude and burst this teacher’s bubble by telling them they’re not funny. remember, you don’t have to like them.

The Bigot: This teacher is overtly racist, sexist, or LBGTQI-phobic. They will make inappropriate jokes, encourage bigoted discourse, or single minority students out as targets. Some students may laugh or agree with them. Others will stew silently but be afraid to confront them.

how do i handle?: you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to, especially if you don’t want to be attacked. however, if it comes to a point where you feel like you absolutely must say something to this teacher, keep your cool. you want to seem like the reasonable one in this scenario. and it is a must that you report this behavior to your school’s administration.

The Perv: This is pretty much what it sounds like. Will put their hands on your shoulders or make comments about your clothes. May refer to students as “hot,” “cute,” etc. They will check the students out and make suggestive comments about them.

how do i handle?: do not confront this teacher about their behavior. they are a sexual predator who needs to be dealt with by administration. keep a log of everything creepy this teacher does so you will have evidence. also, the police should be contacted in an event that this is happening. remember, if enough people get involved this teacher will be removed.

tldr: dealing with teachers can be difficult, but if you stick to your principles, stay organized and on top of your work, and don’t try to be a teacher’s pet, you should be fine. and if a teacher is making you feel unsafe, contact your school’s administration.

#studyblr #masterpost #types of teachers #studyspo

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suzannebyrne · 8 years ago

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Drew Barrymore: ‘I Came Out of the Womb’ Feeling Comfortable in My Own Shoes

Drew Barrymore signed on to be the face of Crocs’s “Come As You Are” campaign because it’s “an optimistic brand” and “universal,” she says. “My kids wear Crocs. I wear Crocs. It’s for the whole family.” (Photo: Crocs)

Drew Barrymore grew up in front of our eyes. We’ve followed her ups and downs, and downs and ups. We’ve marveled at her endlessly sunny disposition through it all.

The Santa Clarita Diet star, 42, is as effervescent as ever talking to Yahoo Celebrity about being the face of the new Crocs “Come As You Are” campaign, which emphasizes being comfortable in your own shoes. Barrymore, who describes herself as “definitely a come as you are kind of person,” gushes about the brand’s “joyful message” of “optimism,” especially in a time when there’s a “tremendous divide” in the world politically.

Of course, we had to know if Barrymore could pinpoint the time she started to feel comfortable in her shoes — whether it was turning 40, becoming a mom, or, heck, dancing on David Letterman’s desk at 20. It turns out she was born that way.

“I’ve always been comfortable in my own shoes — ever since I was a kid,” Barrymore says. “In some ways, it’s a curse to grow up with so much craziness around you,” referring of course to her much-documented parental woes and addiction issues. “On the other hand, it’s such a blessing to grow up in an environment that is so encouraging of playfulness. I always felt as a kid that it was OK to be myself — even if my job was to play other people, which is sort of an oxymoron. I never had a 20 or midlife sort of like: Now I finally feel comfortable. For better or worse, I came out of the womb very [hums: nanananaaa]. I’ve always just been unable to be anything but myself.”

Drew “came out of the womb” feeling comfortable in her own shoes, she says. Sounds about right because here she is at 7 being a total ham on the “Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson.” (Photo: Getty Images)

But, seriously, with all the stuff that’s happened in her life — most recently the end of her third marriage to Will Kopelman, with whom she has daughters Olive, 4, and Frankie, 2 — how does she remain so sunny? Commitment to the cause.

“I think that it’s a choice. Happiness is a choice,” Barrymore says. “Some days I’m just naturally magnetically pulled to it and some days I have to work harder on being happy.” But each day she’s chasing that rainbow. “Whether it’s an easy choice you make, or you had to go through hell … and it feels like a real struggle to get there … every day presents a different level of how easy it is to attain or how much you have to fight for your happiness. But I think always having that goal is anything but whimsical or hippie-dippie. It’s pleasurable for other people to be around. You’re going to be happier inside of yourself. Happy is good!”

“Happiness is a choice,” a beaming Barrymore, pictured in September, says. “Some days you have to wrestle and throw down for it, but I think it’s the right battle.” (Photo: Getty Images)

Staying positive is especially challenging these days in light of the political climate, which the ad campaign points out. Barrymore, who was a Clinton supporter, says she tries to find the optimism wherever she can.

“I am very inspired to see everybody rallying as much as they are,” says Barrymore, who was at the Women’s March in January, which left her feeling full of pride. “Out of a difficult times comes such amazing humanity and protesting and coming together and organizing, great music, great art. Heroes rise in this time. So, yes, I think that is what I go to.”

I love women. I live for my two daughters. And I am full of pride and unity with all women today.

A post shared by Drew Barrymore (@drewbarrymore) on Jan 21, 2017 at 4:40am PST

She continues, “I want to see what people are doing proactively. I think that’s something that never sat right with me. If you’re not comfortable in your skin, if you don’t like what’s happening around you, don’t stay stuck in it. Do something about it. Be proactive. Get on your feet and make a move. I think always putting one foot in front of the other will have at least the beginning of a momentum that will send you in some direction — and hopefully the right one. But staying stuck and idle is never a good choice.”

Drew’s younger daughter, Frankie, marched as well, on her dad’s shoulders, carrying a sign that memorably said, “I like unicorns and reproductive health care for all.” The actress is doing her best to make them aware about what’s going on in the world, by showing an interest herself — and not being scared to discuss things with them in an age-appropriate way.

“Kids see it everywhere, so you just try to speak to them about things that aren’t going to completely scare them but invigorate them,” she says. “I never have the news on in my house, but my kids see me reading the New York Times every morning in my bed as we’re starting our day. I like that they know that I’m interested in the news and what’s going on. So that’s a nice analog way to show them first thing in the day. I like going back to the old world of newspapers — I find them so romantic.”

Drew and her girls:

Weekend vibes on a windy beautiful day! Photo by dad!

A post shared by Drew Barrymore (@drewbarrymore) on Mar 26, 2017 at 8:08am PDT

Barrymore describes herself as a “traditional” mom, which is the opposite of what she had growing up. Her kids occasionally appear on her Instagram feed, but she’s trying to give them the most normal life possible as she co-parents with their father. That’s why she was shocked when, after bringing Frankie to a charity event last month for Society of Memorial Sloan Kettering, which supports cancer research programs, it generated big headlines, including on Yahoo.

“That kind of freaked me out,” she says. “That really blew up. I wasn’t expecting that. We were just attending a charity event. I’m very protective of them and don’t put their faces out there.” However, her takeaway was, “You can’t control everything, especially when you are trying to participate in something that’s very lovely. I just try to be as protective as I can be knowing that I can’t control every single moment. So I do the very best I can to keep them as private and safe as possible.”

Barrymore definitely couldn’t control a recent trip to Disneyland, where her overtired daughter Olive ended up “like a crazy pancake on the floor.” Her friend documented the moment with her iPhone and she shared it with Seth Meyers as a reminder than a sense of humor is everything when it comes to parenting.

Drew talking about her most recent Disney trip:

youtube

“I’m one of several parents whose kid is writhing on the floor after a long day of trying to run to everything, skipping the nap, and trying to make the most out of the day,” she says. “Your child usually will end up like a crazy pancake on the floor, but that’s Disneyland and it’s so fun and I can’t wait to go back and do it again.”

And there will be more pancake photos to be had. “It will be my third run and I’ll look forward to the third picture [of Olive melting down]. I have a series of photos of Olive on the floor at Disneyland and I can’t wait to add to the photo album. It’s hilarious. You have to have a sense of humor when your child is melting down sometimes. Guide them into a good place and be able to giggle a little bit too.”

Drew behind the scenes during her Crocs photo shoot. (Crocs via Instagram)

Being able to giggle a little bit is what attracted Barrymore to the Crocs “Come As You Are Campaign,” which she says has a “joyful” message.

“It had a lot of optimism,” she says. “All the campaign ideas were just fresh and happy and smiling. Crocs is an optimistic brand that is very universal, very comfortable, very fun, very welcoming. For me, my kids wear Crocs, I wear Crocs. It’s for the whole family. I tend to like things that are a joyful message — and also economically speaking, everyone is invited to this party, that is very important to me. Everything about it just appeals to who I am.”

And since she’s become a mom, comfy footwear is an essential for her lifestyle.

“I definitely need comfortable shoes, that’s for sure. That’s 101,” she says when asked about how her personal style has evolved. “I’m a little funky and eclectic and bohemian, which I’m glad for because I like vintage pieces or mixing prints and patterns still. When you become a mom, you wonder if you have to become conservative in the way you dress, because I’m certainly very traditional in my values with them. But I’m glad I can still rock three different patterns all over my body while being a good mom.”

And a good mom she is — as well as an endlessly sunny spirit.

yahoo