#can also be 'your ears popping: penis edition'

[thegreatpapaya666]

my friend said that orgasms are just 'your ears popping: vagina edition' and i laughed so hard i cried

[ejzah]

A/N: Basically, this is just turning into Kensi and Deeks flirting on the job all day long.

***

The Agent and the Lawyer, Part 11

Kensi was about to lean back in for a second kiss, when she heard the sound of footsteps and Eric popped his head through the doorway a few seconds later. Deeks quickly moved away from her, running his hand through his hair in a falsely nonchalant way.

“Hey, Callen needs you, Kensi,” Eric said, jerking his thumb behind him. “Oh and Deeks, I almost have your ID ready. You can come by and grab it before you leave today.”

“Great, thanks.” Deeks said. “Nice shirt by the way. Are those cacti?” Eric plucked at his button down, which indeed featured tiny cartoonish cacti, and nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah, it was limited edition. I think they sold out by now.”

“Aw, that’s too bad.” Deeks turned to Kensi. “Don’t you think I’d look great sporting a little desert greenery?”

“Actually, I think you’re both ridiculous and can’t that grown men would choose to around dressed like that,” Kensi said, purposely not looking at Deeks. Eric didn’t seem to notice the tension between them. “Did Callen say what he needs.”

“Something about a translation. He’s waiting for you in the bullpen.”

After Eric had left, she glanced at Deeks out of the corner of her eye. She wasn’t sure what she would have done if Eric hadn’t come along. Part of her was annoyed at the interruption and another, saner, part of her was infinitely grateful.

“That was close,” she told Deeks who shrugged.

“I thought you said Hetty wouldn’t have a problem with us having...whatever it is we have,” he said and Kensi sighed.

“Hetty might be pretty forgiving, but even she’s going to have a problem with us making out on the job.”

“So, what I’m getting from this conversation is that if Eric hadn’t interrupted us, we would be making out right about now.”

“Ok, that was not...” Kensi pressed her lips together and tried to fix Deeks with a no nonsense expression. It was hard with his teasing smirk. “Let’s just agree to try and stay professional while we’re here, ok?” she requested.

“Fine. I will try and be a professional, as hard as that is for me,” he agreed, but raised a finger dramatically. “However, I expect excessive amounts of making out later on to make up for this.”

“You are ridiculous.” Kensi gave him a shove and he let her push him across the room. “Now let me give you the rest of the tour before someone else comes looking for us.”

***

“Explain to me again why I have to complete firearms training,” Deeks said to Kensi. It was a few days since he’d officially accepted the liaison position and in that time he’d filled out numerous forms (some of which horrified the lawyer in him), been bored to death by agency policy videos, and received a mixture of helpful and not so helpful advice from Sam and Callen.

Kensi had been by his side through all of it, which was both comforting and distracting. They hadn’t really discussed “the kiss” at all and it was simmering between them.

“Hetty’s orders,” Kensi explained simply. He’d already learned that the majority of Hetty’s orders were followed without question.

“Yeah, but I’m just supposed to be consulting. There’s no reason why I would need to fire a gun.” He shifted the plastic safety goggles Kensi had given him, definitely stalling now.

Pushing them back into place, Kensi snapped a pair of noise cancelling headphones over his ears. She gave him a once over and then patted his hair back into place, rearranging his bangs over his forehead. She tilted her head, smirking at him.

“You look adorable. And you should know by now that Hetty always does things for a reason,” she said. Deeks didn’t hear Hetty come in behind them and jumped when she suddenly appeared near his arm. Most of the time he wasn’t fazed by her, but he was accustomed to her apparent ability to apparate.

“It never hurts to be prepared, Mr. Deeks,” she told him gravely.

“But...”

“You never know when you might find yourself in a dangerous situation that you need to fight your way out of.” She gestured to Kensi. “Ms. Blye, why don’t you give Deeks a demonstration?”

“Sure,” Kensi said, throwing him a smirk as she snapped on headphones and goggles. With a level of familiarity that was equally terrifying as it was hot, she removed her gun from the waistband of her pants, sighted the target and shot several times in quick succession.

She lowered the weapon with a mildly satisfied expression as they all studied the paper target, now riddled with holes.

“Hm, not my worst,” she commented with a shrug.

“You shot it in the groin,” he said, gesturing to the target, which now had a massive whole where its non-existent penis had once been. “Who aims for the groin? And why?”

“It’s always good to be prepared,” Kensi replied calmly.

“Ok, now your really scaring me.” Hetty removed the target, ignoring his reaction and nodding at it appreciatively.

“It’s also a good reminder to stay on Ms. Blye’s good side,” she added, giving Deeks a sideways glance.

“Is it too late to quit?” Deeks asked.

“Nonsense. Now enough stalling.” Hetty gestured for Deeks to step forward. “It’s your turn. Kensi will guide you through the process.”

If Kensi was surprised by Hetty’s order, she didn’t show it. She placed a Sig in front of him, not her own he noticed, and then folded her arms expectantly.

“What’s the first rule for firing a weapon?” she asked, reminding him of his 2nd grade teacher. Though he had been a lot less attractive than Kensi was.

“Aim for the groin?” he guessed. Kensi gave him an unamused smirk.

“Ha, very funny. Careful, or I might just practice on you.”

“Well, it’s seems you two have this handled,” Hetty said, clapping her hands together in a satisfied way. “I will be in my office if you need anything.”

Once she had left, Kensi picked up the Sig again and balanced it in the palm of her hand.

“Ok, since we’re starting at the beginning let’s talk about safety. The most important things to remember are to always keep a gun pointed in a safe direction, that’s usually the ground, keep the safety on, and don’t put your finger on the trigger unless you actually plan on shooting something. Or someone.”

“That’s it?” he asked, thinking that there should be far more rules for handling a dangerous weapon. Kensi shrugged.

“For now. As long as you don’t shoot yourself in the foot, I figure you’re on the right track,” she said.

“It worries me that I can’t tell if you’re joking right now.” Kensi didn’t respond to that, but held the gun out to him with the muzzle facing down.

“Now it’s time to talk about hold and stance.”

Keeping his arms crossed, Deeks eyes it dubiously.

“I told you I’m not a big fan of guns,” he reminded her.

“I’m not asking you to be friends with it, Deeks,” she said scathingly, offering it to him again.

“I think I’d rather-”

“Just take the damn gun, Deeks,” she snapped. Reluctantly, he reached out and gingerly grasped the grip. It felt heavy and foreign in his hand and he stared at it distastefully. Kensi was watching him avidly, but he didn’t try to hide his expression. “Great, you still didn’t shoot yourself.”

When Deeks didn’t laugh, she cleared her throat awkwardly and then nodded at the gun.

“Ok, using your dominant hand-so your right-hold the base of the gun like this.” She demonstrated with her own gun, creating a v-shape with her thumb and forefinger. “Then wrap the rest of your fingers around the front of the grip.”

Deeks followed her directions, a slightly heavy feeling growing in his stomach. He hadn’t held a gun in years, he’d seen plenty in court and evident, but never actually touched one. Although he definitely wasn’t enjoying the experience, it wasn’t quite as bad as he’d been expecting.

“Now wrap your non-dominant hand around the front of the grip and support your dominant hand,” Kensi continued, closely following his every move. After Deeks had copied her, she nodded. “Good, now we’ll work on your stance.”

“No, you’re holding your hands to low again,” Kensi said about 20 minutes later and Deeks dropped his arms, the weapon bouncing slightly against his thigh.

“Last time you said I was aiming to high,” Deeks pointed out. “You nitpicking isn’t helping.” Normally, he found Kensi’s dedication to detail to be an attractive quality. Right now it was just annoying.

“Just do what I say.” She gestured for him to turn around and Deeks sighed, adopting the pose she had taught him. Kensi made a frustrated noise almost immediately. “Hold still,” she ordered, coming up behind him. Deeks froze as she placed a hand under each arm and then nudged his left leg forward with her knee.

He could feel her warm breath on his neck, her torso just barely pressing against his back. It sent a shiver down his spine and a flurry of very work inappropriate images running through his head.

“If you wanted to cuddle, you could’ve just asked,” Deeks murmured, turning his head slightly so their faces were just a few inches away.

“Shut up,” Kensi said, her voice a little rougher than normal. She adjusted her arms again and then took a step back. “Ok, keep your arms at that level, sight your target and pull the trigger.”

Pulling in a shallow breath, Deeks slid his finger over the trigger, hesitating. Blocking out the wave of memories that came with holding a gun again, he squeezed the trigger. The bullet ripped a hole through the target’s shoulder, just inside the lines and he jerked at the kickback.

He glanced back at Kensi, whose eyes were on him rather than the target.

“Why don’t you like guns?” she asked quietly. It was a blunt and unexpected question.

“I just don’t,” he said shortly. “I’ve seen all the damage they cause when in the wrong people’s hands and I’d rather not be a part of it.” That was certainly true, even if it wasn’t exactly the answer to her question. Kensi squeezed his arm,her expression sympathetic.

“I’m sorry that this is difficult for you and I wish I could promise that you don’t have to touch one again, but I can’t. Hetty wants you to have firearms experience and a single shot isn’t going to cut it.”

He sighed heavily, tossing his head back.

“This is not what I expected when I signed on to a be a legal consultant.”

“What were you expecting?”

“A lot more arguing about chain of evidence, pissing Sam off by telling him all the laws he’s technically violating,” Deeks said, shrugging and Kensi smirked.

“Well, there’s still time for that.” She nudged his shoulder and suggested, “Why don’t we call it a day on the target practice? That’ll give you a little more time to get adjusted to the idea.”

Deeks gladly handed the gun over to Kensi who returned it to the armory while he hung up his goggles and headphones on the wall. Peering in the plexiglass window, he fluffed his hair, pulling a face.

“I think I have headphone hair,” he told Kensi as she walked back in.

“And how is that different from your normal hair?” she asked as he continued to fiddle with it. Giving up, he turned back to Kensi with a lofty expression.

“I will have you know that this look is carefully curated to appear disheveled and carefree.” Kensi snorted at that.

“Well, you’ve certainly got that part down. It’s very beach bum chic.” She cackled at her own joke.

“Actually, I call it “Styled by Pillow”,” he informed her. Tilting her head, Kensi reached out and ran her fingers through his bangs, rearranging them and then smoothed down the back. She paused, considered him again and nodded, apparently pleased with the result.

“Much better.”

“I thought we were supposed to remain professional,” he reminded her.

“I was just making sure you look presentable,” Kensi said. “I mean, do you really want Sam to see you looking like you just rolled out of bed?” It was a good excuse, but Deeks didn’t buy it.

“Or maybe you just can’t keep your hands off me.” Kensi’s mouth dropped open and she fumbled for words for a few seconds.

“That is not-that is not true. I can totally keep my hands off you.” She was so eager to prove him wrong, it was kind of adorable. Crossing his arms, he leaned close enough that he could whisper to her.

“I bet you can’t go the rest of the day without touching me at least once.”

“Oh I would totally win that bet,” she said scornfully. “You aren’t nearly as irresistible as you think you are.”

“Really? Then how about another wager. If you touch me at any point today, we actually go out on a date,” he suggested. “At a restaurant.”

“And if I win? Which I will.”

“I’ll have Alejandro’s delivered to your door for a week.”

“And what exactly in your depraved mind constitutes as touching?”

“Anything that doesn’t involve directly saving my life,” he decided.

“That is too good to pass up,” Kensi said happily as she pulled her phone from her pocket.

“You’re pretty sure of yourself,” Deeks said, smirking at her.

“That’s because I actually have an ounce of self-control.” She wiggled her phone at him. “And Eric says we have a case.”

Deeks chuckled as she sashayed out of the room, singing about all the tacos she would be eating. As much as he wanted to take Kensi out, he was going to enjoy watching her try to win. He didn’t plan to take it easy on her.

***

A/N: Deeks learning to shoot is partially inspired by a scene from the show Castle. And once again, I don’t know how to shoot a gun. I googled it. It’s probably inaccurate. You’d think after watching 11 seasons of a show, I might have picked something up, but I haven’t.

[trashinaglass-archive]

Really?

Tom dating an edgy girl

Request: Is it okay if I can request fan’s reaction to Tom dating someone who is more edgy than they expected him to date? Tattoos and stretched ears and colored hair and cusses a lot? It’s a surprise because everyone expected him to date a sweet princess, which he replies “well she’s MY princess.”

A/n: I love this so much. That’s also such a Tom reply. Like I can literally hear him saying that with a “so shut your face”.

The girl I’m picturing for this is Mykie from Glam&Gore. She doesn’t have any tattoos but she is that girl so I’m going to base this on her- she’s a makeup artist on YouTube and the love of my life.

“Shit!” You yelled as you watched your bottle of adhesive fall on your floor, nothing you could do to save it with both your hands occupied. “That’ll be a bitch to clean up.”

You were currently filming a video for your YouTube channel, having a lot of fun turning yourself into a realistic Squidward.

“This has been a long process- I have so many pieces in front of me,” you said as you grabbed the nose that you made, holding it up to the camera. “That wasn’t the best first thing to pick up,” you thought out loud, noticing how it looked like a penis.

You began to glue the different pieces to your face, painting around them and putting your head-cap on. You held a small black brush in your hand when you heard your phone ding.

“Wonderful. Glad I can read this,” you said sarcastically, plastic covering the majority of your vision. You tried to read it before giving up, calling your friend over to read it to you.

“Tom said he’ll be here after stopping by Starbucks and asked if you want something,” he told you.

“Aw,” you said softly, appreciating the sweet gesture. “Tell him the usual and find a funny ‘thank you’ gif.” You went back to working before thinking about Tom and your relationship.

“Could you just imagine dating someone like me? Like you go to work early in the morning, kick your ass in the gym, be a bomb-ass Spider-Man, and then come home to this,” you said, looking straight into the camera and laughing at yourself. “Eyy baby,” you said jokingly, making kissy faces. You finished up your look and filmed the montage of it.

“Well that’s a look,” Tom said as he walked in on your filming.

“I thought it was a pretty one,” you replied, shrugging your shoulders.

“Yeah, Squidward looks great on you,” he chuckled.

“Thank you,” you said, posing sassily. “I’m gonna go take this shit off and edit this video because it has be up tomorrow. I love being a procrastinating bitch.”

“Have fun with that. I’m going to be in the other room reading this script,” Tom told you before taking a small pause. “I’d kiss you, but I’d really rather not.”

Your jaw dropped in shock at his words. “Bitch,” You said with a laugh. You couldn’t argue though, it wouldn’t be easy to do anyways. You removed the makeup in the bathroom and moved back to your office where you spent the rest of the day editing your video. It was posted the next morning and you quickly saw comments popping up on twitter and YouTube about you and Tom’s relationship.

“Wait... this is Tom’s girlfriend?”

“We’re all sitting here thinking Tom’s dating a girl like Zendaya but he pulled this bitch”

“Tom dating this goth girl instead of some princess, how ironic”

The last tweet was your favorite. The stereotypes that come from having fun with your appearance was crazy. There was no difference between you and any other girl. You smiled as you noticed a reply from Tom.

“Well she’s my princess. So shut your face😁”

You laughed at his reply and replied with a gif that said ‘hello my name is princess’. The comments quickly grew, seeing your and Tom’s replies. The majority of them were really sweet, defending you and saying that you and Tom are really cute together.

“Really?” Tom said as he found you sat at your computer. “I love how having colored hair and piercings and shit makes you goth. Maybe I should post that video of you freaking out over a lizard.”

“And ruin my reputation as an edgy bitch? No way,” you declined with a laugh. “They think I’m a tough chick, don’t expose me for the pussy I really am.”

“I don’t promise anything.” Tom leaned over you as you sat in your chair and kissed your lips. “I’m going to head to the gym.”

“Bye, Spiderman,” you said jokingly.

“See you later, princess.”

[agent-yolk-writes]

Friends Like You and Us - Venom!Reader - Ch. 5

Successfully (hopefully) queued at the stroke of midnight to bring you the latest chapter of some spider shenanigans. Fresh off the back of AO3!

In this episode: The gang throws spaghetti at the wall until something sticks, Noir enjoys playing with the remote, you have a breakdown for five minutes, and your aunt really needs to get her shit together for important business trips.

I also made a master list! Anyone new who wants to start or the veterans who want to revisit that one part in that one chapter!

AO3 Version | Masterlist

”Welcome to the first, and hopefully only, Spider-Persons conference. First off, I would like to thank (First Name) for hosting us and fixing up drinks with what they had to work with. Our main objective tonight: get everyone back to their proper universes before we don’t feel so good anymore…” Ham eccentrically led the charge of the brainstorm session. He managed to clap the lights off and pulled down a projector screen out of nowhere, the screen flashing crude images of the four of you finding a potential solution with lines and circles everywhere. It almost looked like what football coaches had to look at. Staring down on all of you squeezed on the couch he added, ”...any ideas?” Before clapping the lights back on, shooting the screen back from where it came.

Not risking what damage you might’ve inflicted on your phone, you pursued what you were looking for on your laptop while being squished to the side of the couch. It’s loading speeds left something to be desired, but it’s still functional and you can’t complain. Venom does about the heat, but that’s out of your control.

Over the horizon of your screen, you could see Peni, seated in the middle, pulling a projection of your New York out of nowhere and zoomed in on your current location. You weren’t really paying attention to what she was saying as she played around with the map. You were internally arguing with your backseat navigator on where you say the post last, only to find out the mods did indeed removed it from the search bar. Now you’re left in a predicament.

Try finding news archives.

Oh...Oh yea...No wonder I keep you around.

Where was he when you had to take the SATs?

He was right. Spider-Man’s death was the national news! There were so many news choppers around that it almost risked the two of you being forced apart by sound alone. Because of that, as well as the risk of you getting caught, you didn’t feel it was safe enough to investigate it yourself. Thanks to the media, you didn’t have to do the heavy lifting.

“You thinking it could be Osbird?” You heard Ham ask.

“Osbird? Ain’t it supposed to be Osborn?” Noir questioned.

“(First Name)!” Peni calls to you. “Does the Green Goblin exist in this universe?”

Didn’t he...

Died with Spider-Man.

“...Exist

ed

. I think he got killed in the same explosion.” You mentally high fives your companion for being a database for most things super. Good thing your universes are very similar.

Still, that doesn’t help your allies as your enhanced ears heard Ham cursing under his breath.

To alleviate some of the pain you added, “...If it helps, I think he was working for this guy named Wilson Fisk.”

“Kingpin…” Everyone else said at the same time. “What in the Sam hell is he scheming?” Noir grimly added. Glancing at the Wikipedia page for him, apparently he has more money than god. Of course he would be living in NYC. That’s where all the corrupt billionaires live!

You wouldn't happen to know him, right?

Never met him.

Well, there goes your first potential lead. The first news article that pops up is Fisk sending his condolences to the aunt of Spider-Man, May Parker, as well as his wife Mary Jane. He released a sympathetic statement relating what it’s like to lose someone close. A jump to his Wiki states that he had a wife and son that were killed during a high-speed car crash. There were rumors for a while about the wife being the one in the speeding car, but all whispers were quickly squashed before the sun could rise the next day. Money really is an effective superpower these days.

Another article tells you that he’s been heavily involved in Alchemax, a business he acquired a few years ago. His main advisor and the one who looks after the company while he’s away is Doctor Olivia Octavius, a woman with the frizziest hair ever. You vaguely recall watching a documentary she was the main star in during your science class, but you didn’t really absorb what she was saying.

Your fingers rubbed your eyes to relieve some strain. It felt like listening to Hannah yapping non-stop about any villain Spider-man even looked at during lunch. Ever since this whole series of wacky events dragged you into this mess, you have just the right about of knowledge on at least the most popular, infamous really, supervillains.

“Welcome back to Inside Edition-” The new voice almost triggered your fight or flight responses if you didn’t look up and see that the television was on playing tonight’s Inside Edition. Wait, you didn’t turn it on. Looking to your left, you realized it was the only other person left on the couch with you and, thus, the closest one to the table with the remotes.

Squinting at Noir with tired eyes, you asked, “What are you doing?”

The monochrome detective was fixated on gripping the device in various locations. “Interesting...it doesn’t have wires, and yet it calls the huge black mirror to awake. It doesn’t run on steam or heat, not to mention it’s so tiny.” Surely they had batteries back then, right?

“Yea. That’s what remotes are.” You commented. “They were made so we don’t have to get up every time to change the channel. You can even change the volume to hear better...the long ones with the plus and minus on it.”

“And please do.” Ham waved his hand to get both of your attention. “I think something important is coming up.” You didn’t even have to question him as the television had the collapsed remnants of Spider-Man’s final stand being narrated by a blonde woman you can’t piece the name of.

“While the world still mourns the loss of Spider-Man, many are still trying to pick up the pieces of his final moments to paint a picture. Tonight, Insider Edition has gained exclusive footage from one of the first helicopters on sight of the explosion. What you’re about to see is graphic and may upset some viewers. Take a look-”

The camera switched to a shaky camera arriving on the scene. For a few seconds, you could see the East River and the Williamsburg Bridge that connects Manhattan and Brooklyn before it forces the viewers to focus on a trail of smoke coming from a crater.

“What used to be one of Wilson Fisk’s many investments is now up in smoke. There’s no word yet if there are any other casualties in the explosion. It is rumored that this building was used to hold scientific research and experimentations in the medical field. We tried contacting Fisk for a comment, but he has yet to respond.”

It cuts to another angle, and you could see a blur hiding away something red and blue. The original cameraman holding it let out a gasp and said something expletive. “We censored this for the viewers at home, but it was here that the camera crew noticed the body of Peter Parker, better known as Spider-Man, unmoving-”

The feeling in your stomach only got worse as the newsreel goes on. You felt upset to point of nausea. You wanted to tear your eyes away from all this sad news but at the same time, you don’t. You were there when the news broke out, you were at his funeral hiding behind one of the church’s spirals as his widow encouraged others wearing his mask that they too can be a hero. You could still remember the bile burning your throat that night, muttering ‘what-ifs’ to yourself as if you were the cause of his death.

You’ve only paid attention to him because he was your solstice to your new powers, but he’s now gone, leaving the two of you in the dark. You should be over this, but for some reason, you’re not.

“I-We’re going to bed. Goodnight.” With a slam of your laptop, you didn’t give them time to react before you slammed the door to your room shut and placing your desk chair under the knob as a security measure. You needed to be alone right now.

If it wasn’t for your companion supporting your body, you would’ve slammed your head on the bed frame. You were that much of a wreck that Venom had to assume control to get you safely on the bed.

“Talk to me, (First Name).” He rarely calls you by your name.

“I-I…” You got distracted with the tears streaming down your face. “I’m scared. It...It’s all coming crashing down on m-me now.” You grabbed the nearest pillow and stuffed your face in it. While anyone else couldn’t comprehend the muffled wailing through the pillow, Venom could hear you perfectly. “I don’t wanna do this! I never did!” After sobbing in silence for what could’ve been minutes, you let go of it to hug your knees. “Last month I thought about pursuing a career in journalism. How can I do that now? Now that I have a bugged alien in my system tearing me apart with him! Explain that to me, Venom!” You’re trying so hard not to alarm your compatriots outside your door, but you’re too exhausted emotionally at this point to properly check yourself at this point.

You could feel Venom’s tendrils wiping away your tears. His inky forehead bumps into yours like a cat. “(First Name), look at us. Breathe.” His voice rumbles something comforting in your chest. You couldn’t help but close your eyes and breathe alongside him. “That’s it…”

The room was quiet except for your synced breathing and the occasional sniffling. More minutes have passed and already you feel better than earlier.

“I...I’m sorry, Vee.” You whispered. “Everything just...happened, all at once. You, the other Spiders...I think this is what they call ‘imposter syndrome’ kicking in, I dunno.” Forcing out a laugh to ease the tension, you continued. “I just...felt out of place, having to put wool over our eyes to believe we’re sheep too. I hope we don’t have to suffer any longer. If everything works out, I don’t think anyone would have a clue about you...about us.”

Your symbiote friend curled himself around the pillow you were still latching onto. While it doesn’t feel like a genuine embrace, it’s the best thing you can work with.

“Do...Do you think tomorrow will be a better day?” You whisper.

“...I don’t know.” You’re not surprised at that answer. “We’re in a deep bond, we can’t lie to you even if we tried.”

“Do...Do you think it’ll affect whenever we find a way back to your home? The whole bonding thing?”

“...”

“...Vee?” You remembered him explaining about bonding briefly, when you had nightmares from his previous hosts. Symbiotes don’t really exist in this universe, so there’s no real documentation or even a tabloid piece about it.

“It's hard to say for certain. At this rate, we might die if this ’Kingpin’ lead gives us nothing to work on.”

”Yeah...That’s true.” You agreed, letting out a deep sigh. “But he has influence all over the place. He could hide anything if he waves enough money under someone’s nose.”

“Then we’ll eat them. Simple as that.” Venmo’s enthusiasm made you chuckle a bit.

“Well try not to eat their hands if there’s a fingerprint lock.”

“No promises. Now sleep.”

“Yeah yeah…” You snuggled deeper into your hugging pillow. “Night, Vee. Tomorrow’s gonna be better, I hope.”

“Goodnight, (First Name).” With that, you closed your eyes. If you went to sleep any later, you would’ve caught a conversation of two certain spiders from outside and something about a goober.

~

Outside of your room, the others were fixated on what came on after seeing the remnants of the explosion.

“Social media is blowing up over this mystery figure seen all across Manhattan. Blink and you’ll miss it, but it looks like there’s already someone taking the shape of Spider-Man!” It was a set of shaky pictures and so-called ‘tweets’ of people freaking out.

“On person tweeted quote, “Some nightmare version of Spider-Man just passed my window, i think that’s my sleep paralysis demon #fml.” Another reported saying quote, “I think I saw it ate the local drug dealer whole. gross. to think i had to witness vore at four in the morning. stay classy, nyc.””

“Our sources at PDNY say that this mysterious person, if it even is a person, is not believed to be involved in Spider-Man’s death. However, they are a person of interest in multiple disappearance cases involving convicted felons that have been released from prison ranging from drug dealers to serial killers.”

“PDNY reminds everyone that if they see something, say something.”

The trio looked at each other, an unspoken question is trying to be answered. Ham was the only one who looked at the door where you entered for the night before passing air through his lips.

“Pfft, there’s no way.” He says to Peni and Noir. “I mean, what are the chances? They’re too nice and they’re housing us. If they were harboring a murderous symbiote, they would’ve told by now...right? Right?”

~

A surprise pair of glitching and convulsions woke you up earlier that day. Not wanting to feel sick by getting up immediately, you just lied there and drifted up for two hours or so before a series of knocks jolted your sleep away.

“Rise and shine, kid!” Noir yelled.

“We got a mission!” Peni added enthusiastically. A mission? This early? A glance on your phone, however, says it’s almost 10 in the morning. So much for going to school.

You pushed your upper body off the bed with a groan. Venom pushes himself back under your body and into your ‘pajamas’.

“Mmmf...it’s too early for hero stuff..” You grumble, wiping off any remnants of sleep. “Don’t heroes have...unions, or whatever?” Was among the other incoherent grumbles as you washed up and got ready for the day.

Finishing your wakeup routine in the bathroom, you were immediately greeted with your three inter-dimensional companions bustling around as much as they can in such a small apartment. SP//dr’s hanging out on the fire escape ladder, but his visor is lighting up inside so you can barely make out Peni hard at work with something. Noir’s holding the remote, continuously surfing channels and not really stopping at all even at the channels that play classic black and white film. Ham is...stacking a tower from whatever he can find on the fridge. You pray he didn’t see the unopened package of black forest ham you know that’s in there.

Of course, Ham was the first one to notice you staring at him. “What? I’m a growing pig.” Before you could even answer that, he slides the leaning tower of breakfast into his mouth in a single bite. You couldn’t help but be impressed yet slightly jealous.

The mech’s visor slides open and out pops out Peni. “Good morning! Sorry we didn’t wake you up earlier, but the phone rang.” She explains.

“Did you...answer it?” You asked with an eyebrow popped up.

“Well…” She looks down, pushing her pointer fingers together like she’s hiding something she broke. “We tried, buuut...we couldn’t figure out how to actually answer it.”

You looked over at the home phone. It wasn’t anything special, just a wireless phone that you had to press a button in order to answer an incoming call. “...You don’t have cordless phones in your home universe?”

“Everything’s at my fingertips, so I don’t need one at home.” Was her defense.

“Mine has a sleek new design that looks like a candlestick.” Noir turned his head to add in.

You looked over at Ham. “And what’s your excuse?”

“...In my defense, we have cans with a string between them. Reception’s a hit or miss these days.” You shouldn’t be surprised at his answer, but it still doesn’t stop the double facepalm you gave yourself. Peering back to the phone, you noticed that there’s a blinking light indicating someone left a voice message. As you walked over to play it, part of you prayed it wasn’t the school asking for your unexcused whereabouts.

“You have, one, new message.” Don’t be school, don’t be school... “Hi, sweetie! It’s your aunt!” Oh, thank god. “I hope you’re doing okay on your own, but I need your help with something. I...accidentally forgot to send out a file on my work computer, and I need it for an important meeting tomorrow. Would you be a dear and head over to my office? There should be like multiple post-it notes with the file name as a reminder for me to send it.” Mary laughed as her own forgetfulness. “Your visitor pass should still be working, so use that to get in. I’m sure the guards will enjoy seeing your lovely face again. Try not to stumble onto Alchemax’s floor this time. Call back soon, love you~”

“End of message. To delete the message…”

You look back over at the trio sheepishly. “Oh, yea...forgot my aunt works in a pharmaceutical building that neighbors an Alchemax branch...Hahaaa, that’s soo weird…Now what?”

You could hear Venom sighing inside your head. Funny how things seem to go together right when you need it.

[hoodie-bboi]

in honor of school starting, here are some things i either heard or said last year as a high school freshman. enjoy.

(List compiled by @teawarlord and i)

Freshman Year (2018-2019)

I’m just gonna stick my hands down my shirt.

Kai you’ve got a big dick. (Kai does not have a dick.)

I’m crying from the dick.

Stop fingering everything

Don’t judge the lizard man!

YOURE A PEEN BOY!

Can I borrow your uterus?

Don’t fist the applesauce

No I’m not gonna fist it I’m just gonna punch it

I didn’t choose the gay life the gay life chose me

Is your crotch ok?

My brain is soup

If they have a c*ck like a toddlers forearm…

I’m pregnant with water

I’m not having kids and you can’t make me!

There’s cum on my apple

i’m tearing off the cum

Oh shit the apple cummed on me

Who wants to talk about animal sex?

Daddyyyyy UWU

*to the tune of duck tails* TOE HANDS UWU

eggs. eggs everywhere.

If I see her walk through the door I’m jumping down. (30 ft drop)

When I see (my gf) I’m slapping her ass because I’m mad at her.

Fuck you time, you’re just a concept.

I love communism~

Panda bears are resoundingly NOT in to sex! -Science teacher

If they were any more inbred, they’d be a sandwich.

I don’t want to be shanked by your pop tart!

What if everyone had dicks for fingers?

*walking in to a room* I’m not gay, but 20 bucks is 20 bucks.

Don’t ask questions you don’t know the answer to.

Do we do it in Español or Spanish?

“I wanna go to Maryland” “Why?” “Because fuck Maryland” “But why?” “It’s the land of merry” (or Mary, jesus’ mom, idk)

I don’t wanna eat my limp dick pop-tart :(

Don’t screw ghosts, that’s a sin ;)

Our phrase of the day is Multigenerational Butt Licking

“I didn’t eat today” “That’s bad…” “I know-“ “C O N S U M E”

“I don’t worship Satan because I am Satan” *whips poorly*

I finally found out what my cat has been staring at all these years…

No matter how sexy your music is, you can never lick it.

And not the egg??

You don’t stand when you suck dick, dumbass

I love squating when sucking dick. Just *squats* euaaah

Why are you fucking the sherbet with your spoon?

i stuck my finger in there and he starts doing that

I’d rather you stick your human-sized foot up my veen than my ass.

Soft vore your sandwich.

Can forks… mate?

*bursts into room* WHERES THE MEATLOAF??? *takes two pieces of wooden pretend-meatloaf and runs out*

Grunhilda’s in my pants :(

Where is my penis!?

*into headset* I’m gonna kill Gerald. He’s eating our beans. *Gerald runs out laughing like a little girl*

First he eats my beans, then he throws my table.

Oof. I got a big whiff of beans.

Take off those clout goggle bro, you got no clout.

Bruh :(

What do we call an animal that is active mostly act night?

Insecure (the correct answer is nocturnal)

A ball of fire flew out of her vagina

I got the beats, ya bitch

That damn bastard, peein on my carpet

Do you ever forget to breathe because you’re so tired? (Immediately) Yes.

(About Burt’s Bees) Who the fuck is Burt?

“12-8 is 4” (In a condescending tone) “12-8 is 5.”

Some people think ivory powder is viagra

Do you have any on you? I’m asking for a friend…

What’s a hussy?

Teacher: It’s a… very flirtatious female.

oH, so a hoe!

Teacher: I MEAN YOU’RE NOT WRONG

i don’t dislike students. but i dislike this student very much.…

“Are you depressed?” “Hella”

*carrying a shovel* Do you know of any graveyards nearby?

Bro what’s wrong with AIDS?

What if I slap my vagina?

I’m not gonna slap your vagina.

I am so close to becoming bisexual right now

I GOT CHEESE JUICE ON MY FINGERS

“I DONT LIKE THAT SOUND” “Let me suck the cheese juice off of it”

Did you steal my eyes?

PLEASE DONT STEAL MY KNEECAPS

Do humans eat sharks?

caMELS? Do camels eat sharks?

I’M GONNA DEEPTHROAT THIS KNIFE

nO

Have you guys ever felt how soft Kaia is?!

Bro I gotta find out if he’s gay or bi, because if he’s bi then I have a chance.

(from above the stairs) aw man don’t be slappin me like that

(from below the stairs) I’LL SLAP WHATEVER I WANT TO

(above) yo who the fuck said that

I don’t like turkey

i’ll eat it

It’s not turkey, it’s salami

!!???

you schlorped my cheese

twincest is NOT wincest apparently

STOP DRINKING YOUR RANCH WHAT THE FUCK

JACK FROST NIPPING AT YOUR NOSE? MORE LIKE HE’S SLITTING MY THROAT IN THIS COLD

(about kidney stones) Are those generic by the way? (instead of genetic)

Why are you eating your book?

LEAVE ME ALONE

So not to get political or anything but what the hell is oatmeal?

I love when I call daddy!

“I don’t want glass up my cooter!” “No, coffee.” “THATS EVEN WORSE”

I want to slap someone with my ovaries

Did you eat your last brain cell?

Don’t hurt my neck hole

I don’t care about your egg

Peanut fucker

The Ugly Fuckling

While you’re in this group, don’t get on the roof.

There’s a roof?

During this time, we stay under the building (referring to under the roof).

I will throw my skull at you

Don’t put your eggs in my stomach

the egg juiced

I don’t care what you do, just be quiet… don’t raise hell…

Don’t put your egg in my stomach

IT JUICED (about the egg)

YOU ATE YOUR APPLE SO PRETTY

I’m ten? (through laughter) I’m not legally allowed in my house

We are Dong

All is Dong, Dong is all

dong with a capital D

This monster Dong is a Dong and a half

They’re an abomination of the foot, Debra

I’ve fallen and I can’t giddy up

Why are you eating in the dark on my bed?

I’m sure anyone can fuck a belly button if they have a fetish and a small enough dick

stop molesting her ear

so her tummy was open?

yeah, it was

so now she doesn’t have any bones?

w h a t ?

you need to learn to keep your blood

blood is for drinking, not living

i am bsexudkal

i have no king, im an anarchist

The Council Knows, Kaia. You Will Be Tried For Your Sins.

wake up

I made someone scream with my stick

HOLA I JUST CAME BACK FROM HAWAII

We’re gonna be talking about diseases

Fantastic! i LOVE talking about myself!

i thought i could turn the tables…. but the tables turned me!

on?

i’m turned on by tables

bullets are just gun jizz

GUINNEA BUISSEAU IS JUST GUN JIZZ

i have the bladder of a god

i’m sick, as compensation buy me new shoelaces

if you have a canker sore does that mean you have herpes?

duncan blew a thing

can you get better tea?

(offended) better tEETH?

i get my gender validation from a pokemon game

i bet you my room smells like egg… ass

finals week (and the week before)

please don’t talk about furries -my science teacher

the smiley face is frowning upon us

if you want to tp a tree, you tp it so well the best way to clean it up is to cut it down -also my science teacher

i think i have kidney stones up my nose

when someone tells you to hold your horses they’re telling you to be stable (in the middle of the final)

airport quotes (2018)

it’s like a velociraptor with a gun that shoots… sadness

my vibrator fell out of my bag

here's to a new year of learning and/or doing jack shit. sophomore edition coming next year. :)

[artistic-writer]

Forged in Ireland

Title: Forged in Ireland by @artistic-writer Rating: P for penis innuendo and T for its real rating. Summary: Humourous Forged in Fire AU. Four novice bladesmiths, three of them Irish, compete in one of the toughest competitions of its type, Forged in Fire. Killian Jones, his brother Liam Jones, Graham Humbert and David Nolan. Who will win? Who has the skills to best the other men? A/N: Thank you to my kickass beta, @hollyethecurious - I’m posting this for @kmomof4 who i promised a fic to yesterday, but them posted a whump fic instead.  No one dies in this one ;)

Taglist: @resident-of-storybrooke @hollyethecurious @kmomof4 @hookedonapirate @winterbaby89 @courtorderedcake @cocohook38 @branlovesouat @teamhook @snidgetsafan @sherlockianwhovian @shireness-says @wingedlioness @lenfaz @therooksshiningknight @ilovemesomekillianjones @bmbbcs4evr @blowmiakisscolin @deathbycaptainswan @onceuponaprincessworld @chinawoodfan @seriouslyhooked @snowbellewells @doodlelolly0910 @darkcolinodonorgasm

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

"Great men are forged in fire. It is the privilege of lesser men to light the flame."- John Hurt

They had never met until now, apart from Killian and Liam, who were brothers. Graham, a tall, curly haired, blue-eyed bulk of a man, was also from Ireland. The three of them had made it through to round two of one of the toughest competitions currently aired on American television. Forged in Fire. Four bladesmiths competing against the clock for the grand prize, which, as they had all learned when the fourth competitor, David, had been eliminated, was much tougher than they had anticipated.

“We’re sorry, David, but your blade did not make the cut.”

Red-faced and in slight shock, David had gathered his tools and left the studio, or the forge as it was known. He hung his head as he walked out of the room, metal tools rattling in his tool bag, lifting it again as he had been instructed by the production team. They were going to put a slow motion shot of him leaving and they wanted him looking tall and proud, his own opinion on getting eliminated voicing over the sequence.

“It’s tougher than you think, and I respect the judges. It was the right choice. I just didn’t make the best knife today and that’s okay because I’ve learned a lot.”

“David’s knife was good,” Graham whispered to Liam, their forges right next to each other back in the studio. “I thought I was going for sure.”

“Aye,” Liam muttered under his breath with a nod, setting his footing into a wider stance behind his anvil.

“This is tough,” Killian whispered to both of them, tucking his chin to his chest to hide his words.

“Bladesmiths!” Wil Willis bellowed out over the forge, making all three men turn to face him. “Round two,” he grinned devilishly. Killian gulped. “You have three hours in which to attach handles to your weapons using the items offered to you,” he motioned to the well-dirtied metal racking in the corner of the room, stacked with offcuts of all kinds of materials, “turning them into fully functioning weapons for our judges tests, which include a rope slice and sleeper chop.” Liam, Killian, and Graham all followed the motion of his arm, eyes scanning the pieces of odd materials. “But,” he added dramatically, and they all returned their gaze to him. “They must include a guard and an element from this.”

They all held their breath as the host reached for the silky red sheet covering an oddly shaped object. With a flick of his wrist, the material fell away to reveal a huge, brass ship propeller sitting neatly on the table in front of them.

“Oh, Jesus,” Graham uttered, his words lost on a chuckle.

Killian looked over to his brother, both ex-naval men, and smirked. It was ironic, in a strange way, that the thing that had carried them across oceans would now, potentially, sink them.

“Bladesmiths, your three hours begins...now!” Willis yelled and all three men scurried to the pantry.

“I have no idea what I am going to do,” Graham mumbled to himself. His blade had received the most attention from the judges because of a slight warp in his tang. He could fix this easily by hiding his tang in a cylinder of material as a through tang, but which to choose? His eye scanned the shelves, flitting back and forth before he fixed his gaze on some deer antler. It was big enough to drill and shape into a comfortable handle, so he grabbed it before either Jones brother had a chance to.

Killian went to the top shelf immediately, spying some Micarta. It was one of the strongest materials and would stand up to the tests set out by the judges, but as he reached for it, so did Liam. They both looked at each other with a smirk, fingers holding the grey material tight.

“Age before beauty, brother,” Killian quipped with a wry grin, releasing his hold on the scale.

“No, no, I insist,” Liam said with a nod, offering Killian the piece. “Shit before the shovel, little brother.” He’d uttered the words under his breath, and they would probably be edited out of the final cut of the show, but it was mostly lost in Killian’s laugh. “Here, take it. For your little knife,” he smiled.

“I assure you, brother,” Killian began, pushing the Micarta back into Liam’s hand. “My knife, much like other things, will be much bigger than yours.”

Liam took the Micarta with a smirk, heading back to his workbench, whilst Killian grabbed some African Blackwood. It was strong and would fit his blade well, the rustic, camp knife style with a Celtic twist. Traditionally, Celtic knives were shorter, more like a small dagger, with a single loop handle and leather wrapped handle, but the shows specifications meant he had to go bigger. Killian had made a Viking Seax, a single edged blade with, traditionally, a handle made of natural materials, a knife style that had a reputation as a great chopper.

“I’ve made a Seax. It’s strong, and it’s a great chopping blade that will knock my brother right out of the competition. I’m going to cut off a piece of the prop, flatten it out and slide it between the scales and my tang, giving my handle a third layer.”

Killian ran to the tool bench, eyes searching over the dusty surface until he found what he was looking for. The grinder, fitted with a diamond cutting disc, was in his grasp before he could blink, and he then ran to the propeller in the front of the forge.

“Looks like Killian is taking a huge chunk of that flat edge side of the prop,” said David Baker, historic weapons expert and advisor to Hollywood.

“He is most likely going to flatten it out and use it somewhere in his handle,” J. Nielsen, another of the judges, pointed out, watching Killian whizz across the room with the section of propeller he had ground off.

Killian was at his anvil in a second, gripping the brass in his tongs and whacking it flat with his blacksmith’s hammer. The sound of metal on metal rang out, a bead of sweat on Killian’s brow falling to his anvil. The forge was hot, heat from the four propane forges still lingering in the air, and with each collision to his anvil, Killian felt the ricochet in his wrist and his forearm.

“Hitting that brass a little hard there, brother?” Liam teased, brushing past Killian with his own part of the propeller. He had popped off the boss cap, unscrewing the bolt that held the shaft in place, testing the weight in his hands. “When are you going to learn that hitting something harder doesn’t always yield the best results.”

“And when are you going to learn, brother,” Killian began, grinning from ear to ear with a filthy smirk. “The force from a hammer is proportional to the size of the tool. I cannot be held accountable if my tool is bigger than yours.”

“So you say,” Liam sniggered, shaking his head at his brother’s cockiness.

“Have you ever heard a complaint?” Killian raised an eyebrow at his brother who met his comment with silence. “I didn’t think so.”

“Layers will add integrity as well as a sleekness to my blade. I’m going to slip the brass under the scales to give my knife a really sexy look, kind of like a brass vest under a wooden jacket.”

Once he had the brass as flat as he could get it, Killian got back to his table and set about tracing the holes of his tang so he could drill out the brass and African Blackwood. Killian knew Liam’s plan. He had already watched him put a thread on the end of his tang so he could just screw the brass bolt in place and shape it on the belt sander. It was ingenious, really, but Killian liked the challenge of creating the perfect handle for his blade.

Glancing to his right, Killian spotted a frown on Graham’s face.

“Uh oh,” Willis thought out loud, spying Graham’s mistake instantly. All three of the judges followed his nod of direction, sucking in mouthfuls of air through their teeth in a triple wince. “Looks like Graham has messed up his material.”

Graham, in his haste to repair his warped tang, had misjudged the size and angle of the hole needed in his deer antler and had managed to drill right through the side of it. He sighed audibly, shaking his head from side to side before swiping his hand over his brow. Antler dust stuck to his sweaty forehead and the muscles in his jaw ticked.

“You can fix it,” Killian encouraged, his voice shaking Graham from his self directed rage. “Get some dust and epoxy,” he instructed selflessly.

It was like a lightbulb went off in Graham’s brain and he rushed to the saw, gathering what dust he could so he could mix it with some epoxy resin and steel dust. His handle would be off colour, but it would be functional, and that was the most important part of the competition.

“Thanks, mate,” he called to Killian who simply gave him a nod of assurance.

“Did you see that?” Willis asked the judges, directing his question at Doug Marcaida, an edged weapons specialist. “Killian just helped his fellow competitor.”

“He’s a source of inspiration,” Doug nodded humbly. “Great men are forged in fire,” he began, pointing out Killian who continued to work on his blade handle with a stern focus. “It is the privilege of lesser men to light the flame.”

“Did you just quote Doctor Who?” David Baker asked his colleague, aghast the man had delivered such a poetic quote from a TV show character.

“John Hurt,” Doug laughed. “As Doctor Who.”

All three men were at the same stage. The materials they had collected had been sized and cut into a rough shape using the huge bandsaw, and they are all currently hunched over their workbenches mixing epoxy. Two syringes full of the two resins were squeezed into each other on a flat surface, mixed with a flat spatula made of wood, the chemical reaction happening almost instantly. Graham added his dust to the epoxy, turning it into a lump consistency that wasn’t as easily spread over his tang as the glue Liam and Killian were using. They all rushed to get their handle scales in place, tapping them gently with a hammer.

“No, no, no!” Liam cursed, turning from his bench dramatically and running his steel greyed hands through his curled hair.

“Tap, tap, tap, crack. I’m done. Now my blasted brother is going to win.”

“Oh no,” one of the judges said. “Looks like Liam has broken one of his scales.”

Liam ground his jaw in frustration. He had hit the handle material too hard at just the wrong angle and it had snapped the top corner of his scale. He stared at his knife, shoulders tensed, fists balled in anger. In his anticipation to get his handle fixed he had lost his patience with tapping the delicate material with the hammer, chipping of a corner. It was a little too much to cover with some strategic sanding, so he had no choice but to start again.

“It’s going to be tricky getting those scales off now,” judge J. Nielsen told host Wil Willis. “His epoxy is already set.”

“Fuck!” Liam grunted, sure his outburst would most certainly not make a final cut.

Killian looked up from his own project, his brother’s cheeks pink with a mixture of heat and fury. He looked at Liam’s faux pas, sitting in front of his brother like a mockery of his skills, and his lips turned up into a smug grin.

“Problem, brother?” Killian taunted, looking back to his own work. His epoxy had set, fusing two brass plates between his tang and his outer wooden scales. It was perfect. All he had to do was sand it to shape.

Liam didn’t answer, punting his toe into the edge of his table.

“Shorten it,” Killian barked over the sound of Graham grinding his handle behind him. Liam looked over to him, raising an eyebrow in Jones brother fashion. “It’s only a tad, Liam,” Killian added, leaving his bench to pick up his brother’s knife. He pointed at the end, rubbing his grease covered thumbnail over the butt of Liam’s handle. “You can cut a smidge off, add an extra layer of new material and then thread your bolt on the end.”

Liam looked up at his brother, astounded by his commanding nature. He barely had time to respond before Killian thrust his knife back into his hands and Willis was announcing a time frame.

“Bladesmiths! You have thirty minutes remaining!”

Graham began humming a tune to himself as he pushed his knife handle against the sanding belt. Dust flew towards the floor and into his face, the mask he was wearing shielding his most from most of the splinters of antler. He was rushing, grinding in the wrong direction when all of a sudden the knife slipped from his grasp and his fingers were pushed against the coarse sanding belt, his knife point stabbing into his palm.

“Jesus, fuck!” He screeched, his Irish accent much thicker than it had been all day.

“Maybe, my reaction was bit drastic, but at least now I can say that literally my blood, sweat and tears are in that blade.”

“Oh, we got blood!” David Baker announced, tapping J.Nielsen’s arm in excitement.

“Is Graham going to need a medic?” Willis frowned, arching his neck to see more clearly.

“Are you alright, mate?” Killian asked Graham, his voice muffled behind his own face mask. He lifted his head, shutting off his machine to silence the screech of the belt, placing his knife on the bench beside it. “Is it bad?”

Graham hissed, clutching his hand to his chest. Killian motioned him closer and encouraged him to show him his hand, dark crimson flowing from his palm as soon as Graham opened it. Killian shook his head, looking up to catch the eye of Wil Willis, motioning with his arm.

“Can we get a medic in there?” Willis said, concern etched on his face.

Paramedics rushed to Graham’s aid. Liam downed his tools and for the first time ever, in the history of the entire show, the clock was stopped. Graham had sat on the floor under a medic’s instruction, and his leg was shaking, knee tapping the floor to distract from the pain throbbing through his hand.

“Is he going to be able to continue?” Baker thought out loud.

Graham was lost in a huddle of men, Killian pushed out by the circle by the medics. He looked over to Liam, his face pale, absolutely no colour in his cheeks, a solemn look on his face.

“When I reached Graham, I saw that his palm was sliced nearly to the back of his hand. His little pinkie finger was almost cut clean off, and the first thing I think is, he can’t possibly continue. The second thing is, that means it’s down to me and Liam. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a tad disappointed to be entering the final round because of an injury, but that won’t make besting my brother during the final any less satisfying.”

After the drama had cleared and Graham was on his way to the hospital, the forge fell silent once more. Liam and Killian stood before the judges table, part finished blades wrapped in protective blue cloth in their hands. Killian shuffled his feet, scuffing the dust with the toe of his boot, and Liam was nervously gripping his blade.

“Due to Graham’s medical elimination, there will be no need for further testing of your blades,” Wil Willis began, addressing both of the men in front of him. “For the first time in this competition’s history, we have brothers competing for the title and the check for ten grand.” He had his fingers tented, pointing to each brother in turn. “Congratulations on making the finale round. How do you guys feel about that?”

“No finer opponent,” Liam shrugged, looking sideways at his brother who had his trademark smirk and raised eyebrow plastered on his face.

“May the best man win,” Killian added, bobbing excitedly on the balls of his feet.

“Liam, Killian, we asked you here to forge a blade in your signature style, and we have not overlooked the fact that most of our competitors in this competition were Irish, so now we are sending you back to your home forges to recreate an iconic weapon from Celtic history.”

“The instant Wil Willis mentions Celtic, my heart flutters. Our family has strong Celtic roots, so beating Liam is going to be all that much sweeter.”

Liam looked to his brother, the same gleeful expression lighting up both their faces at the host's words. He hadn’t even revealed the weapon yet and they were both poised to explode with excitement as he reached for the red, silk cloth covering it next to him.

“And that weapon is...the Irish Ring-Hilted Sword.”

The covering fell away from the sword in slow motion, the glint of the silvered pommel catching their eyes. It was beautiful. A long, hefty sword with a distinctive design that simultaneously caused joy and terror to course through them both. What looked like a simple design was actually a long list of complex crafting techniques the show's host was about to divulge.

“You’ll have five days at your home forges in which to complete this challenge,” Willis said enthusiastically, a wicked grin on his face. “Your blades must meet the following parameters. The length of your blade must be between twenty nine and thirty one inches in length, it must be double edged, and include a fuller on both sides of the blade, that runs at least three quarters the length of the blade. You must have an ‘s’ shaped guard, with forked terminals, with at least three prongs on each terminal. Additionally, you must include a ringed pommel, through which you can see the tang. Bladesmiths, after five days you will return to present your swords to our panel of judges, and after they have thoroughly tested them, and inspected the quality of your work, they’ll declare one of you the Forged in Fire champion, who’ll walk out of here with a check for ten thousand dollars. Good luck, Bladesmiths. We’ll see you in five days.”

“Unfortunately, for Killian, he is not used to wielding such an impressive weapon, so it’s going to be easy to, once and for all, instill in him that he will always be the little brother.”

“My older brother seems too preoccupied with the size of the weapon when it’s really about how the sword will perform. I assure you, I’m up for this challenge, and when I forge the better weapon, and I will, whoever is jabbed with it, will most certainly feel it.”

After five days in their home forges, and after extensive rounds of judge testing - including both brother’s hearing Doug Marcaida declare that their blades ‘would cut’ - it was settled once and for all.

Killian Jones did indeed have the bigger knife.

[barbex]

My first contribution to @masseffectwritercircle. Whee! And it’s also for Kaidanweek2017.

@threewhiskeylunch prompted me for strip-poker with Joker but I went with James and Kaidan. It’s been a while that I wrote Team Beefcakes, I hope it’s okay. 

Thanks to @blueteaparty for editing!

A bit nsfw towards the end so it’s under the cut.

This has been a bad idea. Kaidan knew it, had known it the moment he sat down.

Poker. What could possibly be bad about poker, right?

For one, it is strip poker. And the problem with that is that of the five people at the table, one, Kasumi, never lost a single piece of clothing, the second person is a turian who apparently normally walks around naked anyway and only wears clothes out of courtesy to other species. And the other two people are Joker and James Vega.

Both men have already lost their shirts. Kaidan still has his T-shirt on but his sweater jacket is already off; the fate of his shirt and pants now depend on the cards in his hand. And he just can't fucking concentrate! The view is just too enticing.

Joker has mentioned before that Chakwas made him train his upper body strength to compensate for his weak legs and it shows. His torso is well defined, reminding Kaidan of old greek statues.

Right now he is twitching his pectorals at James and James answers in kind, and Kaidan almost drops his cards. Where Joker is lean, James is beefy and Kaidan is intimately familiar with how those pectorals feel under his hands. But tonight, James has hardly spared him a glance. He is joking with Kasumi, tells Garrus stories about Earth and now shows off his muscles to Joker.

And he doesn't even look at Kaidan! Kaidan, who has had his hand down James' pants, who has seen this cock-sure asshole whimpering in need and who knows what James can do with those gorgeous lips of his. And now he sits here, hiding his hard-on under the sweat-shirt on his lap.

"I need something to drink," James says and gets up. He saunters over to the bar, giving Kaidan not even a look over his shoulder. With a lot of unnecessary flair he mixes himself a cocktail out of three differently colored beverages and then rummages around in the cooler box. He has to bend down for that. Really bend down. It almost looks like...

Kaidan throws his cards down and stomps over to James, who still holds out his ass like he just waits for Kaidan to grab a hold of it. Which he probably does.

"What are you doing?" Kaidan hisses, bending down to him.

"Looking for ice," James says with a smirk.

"You ass, you're doing this on purpose."

"I have no idea what you mean, Blue. Oh look, there's the ice." He grabs a bag of crushed ice and goes back to the bar, brushing his arm against Kaidan's. He pours some ice in his hand and lets the pieces clink into the glass until his hand is almost empty. "You know what I like doing? When I feel really hot, I like to put some ice in my hand and just put my hand on my chest like this," he says, his voice just a murmur and he presses his hand on his chest. The water from the melting ice drips down his sternum and Kaidan just stares, mesmerized.

"Oh look, I dropped some, let me just get that," James says and bends down slowly and so exaggerated that Kaidan can't quite decide between a groan and a punch to a face. His or James, the options are still open.

"Jimmy, for the love of... will you just look at me?"

James turns, licking his lips. "Oh, now the major wants to talk to me?"

Kaidan steps closer to him, desperate to be enveloped by James presence, this gravitational pull of strength and ease that makes Kaidan feel like he finally has something to hold on to, something that gives him a center in this crazy universe. He pulls him into a hug, onlookers be damned and buries his face in his neck. "James, what did I do that you want to torture me like this?"

There is only a short hesitation and then James wraps his arms around Kaidan, surrounding him like a blanket, secure, soft, warm. "You ignored me all morning."

"I was busy! Hackett needed those reports and I..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But you didn't even look at me when you came down."

Kaidan leans back to look at him. "Those weren't exactly sexy reports I had to write, you know?"

"Alright, I just..." James looks to the side, his hands sliding off Kaidan's back, "I kind of wondered if you've lost interest."

"Lost interest? That's why you put on this show?" Kaidan can't help but laugh. "You running around with that too tight shirt all the time, trust me, I have to look away to get any work done." He lets his hand stroke over James' naked chest, tracing the tattoos with his fingers. "You twitching your pecs at Joker really wasn't fair."

Right on cue, the muscles on James' chest vibrate and Kaidan has to laugh. "That may have been sexier when I felt ignored." He looks up to James and he is taken aback by the fierce expression on his face.

"I can't ignore you, Blue. Not even when I try," James holds onto his shoulders as if he's afraid that Kaidan will fly away. "I can't."

Kaidan reaches up to James' face and pulls his head down, "I can't ignore you either."

He kisses James, pulling him closer until their bodies are pressed against each other and their kiss can't sate their hunger for each other anymore. His hands roam over James' back and he grinds shamelessly against him until Joker's voice reminds him that they're not alone in the lounge.

"Hey guys! Will you take the fucking somewhere fucking else please?" Joker yells.

"Sorry," Kaidan mumbles and pulls James to the door by his arm. "Sorry for the game."

"Have fun boys!" Kasumi cheers after them as the door closes behind them.

Kaidan hasn't even taken a full step into the corridor when James crushes him against the wall, pressing his body against him and kisses him. They kiss like they hunger for each other, like the other is the only thing that keeps them alive. Kaidan roams over James body, slipping one hand into his pants to grab his ass and then loosening his belt to slip his hand down the front.

He palms James' erection, revelling in the deep groan that rumbles through James' chest. He kisses James again, sucking on his lower lips as he slowly massages his penis.

"Kaidan, I..." James mumbles into his mouth as Kadian wraps his hand around James' shaft and pulls. "Kaidan, Blue..."

Kaidan now jerks him off earnestly and he whispers into James' ear, "I want you to come, James. I want you to come in your pants, right here, for that show you put on in there. Making me suffer like that; I should tease you until you beg me to touch you like this but I love this more."

James gasps and Kaidan increases the rhythm. "I love seeing you like this, James. Writhing under my touch." He can tell that James is close, his eyes are glazing over and every breath is like a desperate gasp for air. "Come for me, James," he murmurs into his ear and this huge, strong man crumbles as he comes with a deep moan, almost collapsing into Kaidan's arms.

Kaidan holds him until James' breath has slowed down again. He wipes his hand on James' pants but licks the last bits off with his tongue when he sees James' hungry look. He pulls his finger out with a pop and James crushes his lips against his again, kissing him.

He breaks the kiss for air but he pulls Kaidan close to him. "Kaidan..." He almost says more but he stops, palming the bulge in Kaidan's pants instead. "What should I do with this, Blue?"

Kaidan grins, grinding against James' hand. "I have an idea involving a private room and that glorious mouth of yours."

"I like that."

"Then follow me."

Kaidan turns and walks towards the elevator.

"I'll follow you anywhere," James says quietly, thinking Kaidan probably didn't hear it.

But Kaidan stops and turns around. "Me too, James. Me too."

[socialattractionuk]

What is wokefishing and how can you spot it?

Have you been wokefished? (Picture: Ella Byworth for Metro.co.uk)

If you’re someone who’s comfortable being described as ‘very online’, you’ll have heard of catfishing, kittenfishing, blackfishing, and maybe even hatfishing.

But what about wokefishing?

You might not know what wokefishing means, but if you’re currently single and actively dating, you’ve likely come across it.

In the same way that catfishing is masquerading as another person and kittenfishing is using old and edited photos to present yourself in a more flattering way, wokefishing, too, is a form of deception that’s doomed to cause disappointment.

Coined by Serena Smith for Vice, wokefishing describes when someone pretends to hold progressive – or ‘woke’ views to lure another person into dating them.

They seem lovely at first, but the problem arises when you learn that their ‘wokeness’ is only for appearances – beneath the surface, they really don’t care.

A wokefisher might proudly declare themselves a feminist, add #BlackLivesMatter to their Tinder bio, or say all the right things when you talk about, say, trans rights, improving accessibility for disabled people, or providing free healthcare. They’re all about saying the ‘right’ thing to make themselves seem like caring, unproblematic people.

But once you get to know them, they’re actually sexist, racist, or hold deeply problematic views.

Perhaps they claim they’re proudly feminist, but are quick to slut-shame women who they decide have committed a terrible crime by enjoying sex. Maybe they’ll post a black square on Instagram, but casually use racist slurs when they’re with their friends.

If their words don’t line up with their actions, ask questions (Picture: Ella Byworth for Metro.co.uk)

When you prod just a little below the surface, a wokefisher will reveal that they don’t actually share your views or relate to your values, they were just saying what they needed to get into your life.

It’s difficult to call them out, though, because often they believe they really are as woke as they proclaim. How can you call them sexist when they constantly praise their working mum? How dare you say they’re racist when they dated a Black woman once?

You can spot a wokefisher by keeping an eye and ear out for those times their words and actions don’t reflect their initial claims. Don’t dismiss those discrepancies – yes, someone’s opinions can change and grow, but if it’s starting to feel like they’ve hopped on a hashtag or label for woke points but don’t actually do anything beyond calling themselves anti-racist/feminist/pro trans rights, listen to your gut.

More: US

Babysitter offered to care for girl, 4, - 'then repeatedly molested her while mom was out'

I Like To Move It DJ Erick Morillo arrested for sexual battery

What is wokefishing and how can you spot it?

‘If it seems too good to be true, it usually is,’ Dr Carmen Harra tells Health. ‘Being honest from the beginning helps avoid mistakes that were made in former relationships,. It will save you much time if you come to the conclusion that this person doesn’t hold the same values as you. Allow yourself to be led by your intuition.’

In those instances, it’s important to know when the time comes to cut your losses and ditch the relationship. It’s tempting to try to educate someone, but if a person chooses to misrepresent their views and doesn’t even try to see your way of thinking – or constantly plays devil’s advocate – they’re probably not someone you want to dedicate all your energy to.

As Maya Angelou said: ‘When someone shows you who they are, believe them.’

We’d like to add to the end of that: ‘and get the hell out of there’.

Dating terms and trends, defined

Blue-stalling: When two people are dating and acting like a couple, but one person in the partnership states they're unready for any sort of label or commitment (despite acting in a different manner).

Breadcrumbing: Leaving ‘breadcrumbs’ of interest – random noncommittal messages and notifications that seem to lead on forever, but don’t actually end up taking you anywhere worthwhile Breadcrumbing is all about piquing someone’s interest without the payoff of a date or a relationship.

Caspering: Being a friendly ghost - meaning yes, you ghost, but you offer an explanation beforehand. Caspering is all about being a nice human being with common decency. A novel idea.

Catfish: Someone who uses a fake identity to lure dates online.

Clearing: Clearing season happens in January. It’s when we’re so miserable thanks to Christmas being over, the cold weather, and general seasonal dreariness, that we will hook up with anyone just so we don’t feel completely unattractive. You might bang an ex, or give that creepy guy who you don’t really fancy a chance, or put up with truly awful sex just so you can feel human touch. It’s a tough time. Stay strong.

Cloutlighting: Cloutlighting is the combo of gaslighting and chasing social media clout. Someone will bait the person they’re dating on camera with the intention of getting them upset or angry, or making them look stupid, then share the video for everyone to laugh at.

Cockfishing: Also known as catcocking. When someone sending dick pics uses photo editing software or other methods to change the look of their penis, usually making it look bigger than it really is.

Cuffing season: The chilly autumn and winter months when you are struck by a desire to be coupled up, or cuffed.

Firedooring: Being firedoored is when the access is entirely on one side, so you're always waiting for them to call or text and your efforts are shot down.

Fishing: When someone will send out messages to a bunch of people to see who’d be interested in hooking up, wait to see who responds, then take their pick of who they want to get with. It’s called fishing because the fisher loads up on bait, waits for one fish to bite, then ignores all the others.

Flashpanner: Someone who’s addicted to that warm, fuzzy, and exciting start bit of a relationship, but can’t handle the hard bits that might come after �� such as having to make a firm commitment, or meeting their parents, or posting an Instagram photo with them captioned as ‘this one’.

Freckling: Freckling is when someone pops into your dating life when the weather’s nice… and then vanishes once it’s a little chillier.

Gatsbying: To post a video, picture or selfie to public social media purely for a love interest to see it.

Ghosting: Cutting off all communication without explanation.

Grande-ing: Being grateful, rather than resentful, for your exes, just like Ariana Grande.

Hatfishing: When someone who looks better when wearing a hat has pics on their dating profile that exclusively show them wearing hats.

Kittenfishing: Using images that are of you, but are flattering to a point that it might be deceptive. So using really old or heavily edited photos, for example. Kittenfishes can also wildly exaggerate their height, age, interests, or accomplishments.

Lovebombing: Showering someone with attention, gifts, gestures of affection, and promises for your future relationship, only to distract them from your not-so-great bits. In extreme cases this can form the basis for an abusive relationship.

Microcheating: Cheating without physically crossing the line. So stuff like emotional cheating, sexting, confiding in someone other than your partner, that sort of thing.

Mountaineering: Reaching for people who might be out of your league, or reaching for the absolute top of the mountain.

Obligaswiping: The act of endlessly swiping on dating apps and flirt-chatting away with no legitimate intention of meeting up, so you can tell yourself you're doing *something* to put yourself out there.

Orbiting: The act of watching someone's Instagram stories or liking their tweets or generally staying in their 'orbit' after a breakup.

Paperclipping: When someone sporadically pops up to remind you of their existence, to prevent you from ever fully moving on.

Preating: Pre-cheating - laying the groundwork and putting out feelers for cheating, by sending flirty messages or getting closer to a work crush.

Prowling: Going hot and cold when it comes to expressing romantic interest.

R-bombing: Not responding to your messages but reading them all, so you see the 'delivered' and 'read' signs and feel like throwing your phone across the room.

Scroogeing: Dumping someone right before Christmas so you don't have to buy them a present.

Shadowing: Posing with a hot friend in all your dating app photos, knowing people will assume you're the attractive one and will be too polite to ask.

Shaveducking: Feeling deeply confused over whether you're really attracted to a person or if they just have great facial hair.

Sneating:When you go on dates just for a free meal.

Stashing: The act of hiding someone you're dating from your friends, family, and social media.

Submarineing: When someone ghosts, then suddenly returns and acts like nothing happened.

V-lationshipping:When someone you used to date reappears just around Valentine's Day, usually out of loneliness and desperation.

You-turning: Falling head over heels for someone, only to suddenly change your mind and dip.

Zombieing: Ghosting then returning from the dead. Different from submarineing because at least a zombie will acknowledge their distance.

  Do you have a story to share?

Get in touch by emailing MetroLifestyleTeam@Metro.co.uk.

MORE: Lush puts up sign not to enter with signs of ‘Covid-19, racism, sexism, homophobia, or transphobia’

MORE: Living through the coronavirus pandemic has made our ‘dating clocks’ start to tick

MORE: With sex off the table for many, single Brits have been masturbating more than ever during lockdown

[chaosamplified]

Answer all the questions!

Alisons: Sexuality?

gay 

Amaranth: Pronouns/Gender?

he/him, male

Amaryllis: Birthday?

January 23, 2000

Balsam Fir: Have you ever been in love?

I think so

Baneberries: Favorite song?

im really feeling Dimple by BTS right now

Basket of Gold: Describe your family.

my home family is me, my dad and Cammie. before college I saw my mom once a week. my dad’s side of the family is a bunch of Polaks, my grandma says she isn't polish but we have other thoughts (thats a joke...kind of) they are all mostly not affectionate and they show they care by making fun of each other and if you look at it from the outside it looks like we all really hate each other but thats just how we do things. my moms side is not like that at all, they all pretend to really care about each other but theres a split where half of them are really liberal and the other half is very conservative and borderline racist. I don't doubt that they all genuinely love each other and they do provide for each other in crisis times but they don't really....like each other u know. and the two sides of my family could start world war 3 with the hatred they have for each other 

Begonia: Favorite color? 

steel blue 

Bellflower: Favorite animal?

turtle 

Bergenia: Are you a morning or night person?

night person 

Black-Eyed Susan: If you could be any animal for a day, what would it be?

id be a cat they are always so chill and they know they can do whatever they want and they're right  

Borage: Give a random fact about your childhood.

the house I lived in only had 1 story that was safe for children to be in so I was very bad at using stairs until I was 12 because I never had to 

Bugleherb: How would you spend your last day on Earth? 

if I could do whatever I want id probably visit my mom and apologize for all the things I would never say otherwise. spend some time with Charlie and Lio. tell him all of the things im too afraid to say now. and end the day with Cammie and my dad, probably crying. 

Buttercup: Relationship Status?

single

Camelia: If you could visit anywhere, where would you want to go?

greece maybe? somewhere on the Mediterranean that isn't Cassis because I want variety 

Canna: Do you have any tattoos?  

not yet

Canterbury Bells: Do you have any piercings?  

2 in each ear 

California Poppy: Height?  

5′1

Cardinal Flower: Do you believe in ghosts?

no but I wish they were real

Carnation: What are you currently wearing?  

green sweatshirt, black “skinny” jeans, black vans, green and orange floral hat 

Catnip: Have you ever slept with a nightlight?

I kept my closet light on every night for the first like 10 years of my life 

Chives: Who was the last person you hugged?  

Lio

Cock’s Comb: Favorite font?

courier new 

Columbine: Are you tired?

eternally (not actually, im chillin right now)

Coneflower: Dream job?

head songwriter/performer/art coordinator/all that shit for a touring solo act (me, im the act)

Cyclamen: Did you have a favorite stuffed animal as a child? What was it?

Puppy and Fred were both Dalmatians, and then Allie and Tom who were cats (I still have all of them at home except for puppy)

Daffodil: What’s your zodiac sign?

Aquarius 

Dahlia: Have you done anything worth remembering?

ive done lots of things that are worth having me remember, im not sure that ive done anything worth having other people remember 

Daylily: What would you do if your parents didn’t like your partner(s)?  

literally not care at all

Dendrobium: Who is the last person that you said “I love you” to?

Cammie I think

Foxgloves: What’s something you’re bad at?

talking about things when they actually matter 

Freesia: What are three good things that have happened in the past month?

I finished editing one of my songs! I performed live for the first time in over a year! I uhhh started growing a penis!

Garden Cosmos: How was your day today?

fine, not extraordinarily good but not bad 

Gardenia: Are you happy with where you’re at in your life?

not one bit 

Heliotropium: What helps you calm down when you feel stressed?  

nothing :) sleep?

Hollyhock: Describe your ideal day.

fantasy ideal is like. waking up and making out with my boyfriend and then going to an amusement park for a couple hours just cuz we can, spending the evening performing and then getting wasted with that same boyfriend in our luxurious house 

Hyacinth: What do you like to do in your free time?  

play piano and lay on piano 

Laceleaf: How many friends do you have?

like 5 that I would genuinely consider friends 

Larkspur: What do you think of yourself?

I try too hard at some things and not hard enough at other things and never the right amount about literally anything

Lavender: What’s your favorite thing about yourself?

I can see anything as art or potential art 

Leather Flower: What’s your least favorite thing about yourself?  

hm. well. inability to talk about things when they matter. boobs. ugly in general. lazy. the list goes on

Lilac: What’s something you liked to do as a child?

I really liked creating entire universes. like literal different planets and creatures that live there and relationships between them and the way they live their lives. 

Lily of the Nile: What is something you feel guilty for that you shouldn’t feel guilty about?  

my mom going to jail

Lupine: What does your name mean? Why is that your name?

I picked Sam as a holder name while I was discovering that I was trans because it was very easily gender neutral and started with the first letter of my birth name and then when I came out I still hadn't picked a better name but I didn't want to hear my birthname anymore so I just said I was going by Sam. when I changed it legally I made it Samuel because I no longer related to gender neutrality and I never had a nickname growing up and wanted Sam to be my birthname. Somehow Alexander just came to me as a middle name, I didn't really think about it at all and was doodling things about names and wrote “Samuel Alexander” and was like huh. and didn't think about it for months. and then in class one day I said “guys I don't even have a middle name” and Hailey was looking up names and came up with a couple and wasn't satisfied with her findings and then she found Alexander and was like “ok this one for sure” and I had never even mentioned to her that I was considering Alexander and then I was like well this is it. later I realized that when I was little I usually picked the name Alex as my character names but then decided I couldn't use it because I wasn't cool enough. I still feel like im not cool enough for the name Alex but now I go by Sam to some people and Alex to others 

Marigold: Where did you grow up? Tell us about it.

Jackson, Michigan. I usually thought that it sucked because theres not a lot for like teenagers to do there. but I was never one of those who despised it there, which is how most people who live there feel. now that im in Ann Arbor I realize that there just aren't a lot of opportunities for what society says teenagers should do, but that we made do. I realize now that Jackson is actually pretty rad and I can't wait to go back there tomorrow. I miss it a lot. 

Morning Glory: What was your bedroom like growing up?

really awful lavender walls with pink, green, yellow and blue butterfly decor everywhere. my sister and I shared it and never changed anything about it from the years of 2003-2012 (2012 being when we moved out)

Mugworts: What was it like for you as a teenager? Did you enjoy your teenage years?  

I kind of mentioned this before. It sucked in lots of ways. I was really suicidal for a long time. I hated all of my family situations. I thought I would never amount to anything, I thought I would never have the courage to come out as anything. I didn't think I was gonna go to college. but I also had some really awesome lovely friends in middle and high school, Max, Hailey and Eli in particular. Eli and I have some differing views and don't talk a lot anymore, and Hailey and I had a really bad falling out, but we had no tension it was great. with Max is where most of my “teenage fun” (?) happened tho. he had a car and we did dumb shit like go to Cascades and random parking lots and grocery stores. we smoked weed once and got drunk once. those days were great and I never thought about my family and was never suicidal when I went out with Max on random high school nights

Norwegian Angelica: Tell us about your mom.

we were moderately close when I was really little, and then my parents started getting divorced and some shit went down between us and we didn't talk for 6 months. when I started talking to her again things were very tense. I didn't like her and I didn't want her in my life at all. our relationship is still strained but I love her now and were never going to agree on everything and she's always going to hold to a lot of her ways, and were never going to have the relationship I wish we did. but she's doing her job as a parent now and thats what I care about. she has a very specific personality based off of pop culture and ive kind of developed some of that in my own life. she's hard to explain

Onions: Tell about your dad.  

until I was like 5 I genuinely thought that he hated me, but in reality he was just stressed and worked all the time and didn't really know how to be a parent. we were never exactly close when I was young, I was kind of afraid of him. then the divorce happened and he realized that I am a person with thoughts and feelings and goals and that he was in charge of helping me develop, now all on his own. he didn't do a great job with that transition, and kind of just started treating me as an adult. but it worked. we got really close and stayed that way for a few years. then he got in a new relationship and all of her children moved in with us and they were awfully behaved and him and his girlfriend treated my sister and I as if we were also awfully behaved even though we aren't, so for that time period I had strong feelings that he wasn't being a good parent and was quite frankly being neglectful, which honestly was true. now that they no longer live with us (them? I don't live there anymore) I feel like our relationships is a lot better. could also have something to do with the fact that ive moved out. now that im rebellious and don't care what he thinks my life is a lot better. aside from parenting, he's a really cool person. he plays guitar and has lots of knowledge about musical equipment, he is the reason I took this path in life and he supports me because that was his dream too. he is also so good at being a mechanic like his customers are so loyal that he moved companies and most of them came with him, he's great at it and has so much knowledge. he just in general has a lot of knowledge and great stories and is very funny. I love him a lot

Orchid: Tell about your grandparents.

my Papa (grandpa on dads side) was my entire heart. he loved me more than anything and I felt the same about him. he died when I was 6 and I can't really get more into it because it is one of the saddest thing that has ever happened to me and I don't think I will ever get over it. his wife, my grandma, has surprisingly been one of my most supportive family members with my transition. she took me to France and not any other grandkids. I think im her favorite no offense. I also lived with her for a long time so we're moderately close. now that im older and don't care what my family thinks of me its really easy for me to talk to her. my grandma on my moms side lived with us 4 months of the year but she had some sort of mental problem that never got diagnosed that made it slightly uncomfortable to be around her, but she loved us with her whole heart and I love her too. her husband I only met twice in my life and I don't care about him at all

Petunia: If you’re in a relationship, how did you meet your partner(s)? If you’re not in a relationship, how did you meet your crush/how do you hope to meet your future partner(s), if you want any?

I met my crush by force 

Prairie Gentian: Who is someone you look up to? Describe them.

I don't really have anyone that I look up to in the traditional sense 

Primrose: Describe your ideal life.

in love. making sufficient money off my music that I can take extended break periods and my partner doesn't have to work. having exciting adventures all the time

Rhodendron: What is something you used to believe in as a child?

god. lol

Ricinus: Who’s the most important in your life?

Cammie

Rose: What’s your favorite sound?

not to be narcissistic but genuinely probably when I play a whole song on piano and can feel that im playing everything correctly 

Rosemallows: What’s your favorite memory?

this is an unfair question! I usually put the nerf in the middle of the night at Michaels story because its lit. 

Sage: What’s your least favorite memory?

uhhh being abused. haha

St. John’s Wort: Is it easy or difficult for you to express how you feel about things?

easy when they are social issues or they don't personally affect me. hard if I have to tell another person my personal views on them or something they do

Sunflower: What is something you don’t want to imagine life without?

Cammie

Sweet Pea: How much sleep did you get last night?

like 7 hours with waking up approx 6 times in there 

Tickseed: What’s your main reason to get up every morning?

school. sometimes thats not enough and I don't get up

Touch-Me-Not: How do you feel about your current job?

I don't have a job

Transvaal Daisy: What’s your favorite item of clothing?

I really like my blue/gold/white sweatshirt and the green and orange floral hat im wearing now (bc its from cassis)

Tropical White Morning Glory: Describe your aesthetic.  

gay punk alcoholic wannabe skater kpoppie 

Tulip: What would be the best present to get you?

I reallllyyyy want a Yoongi funko pop at this moment in time. in general I never know.

Vervain: What’s stressing you out most right now?

not knowing if he wants to kiss me as much as I want to kiss him

Wisteria: How many books have you read in the past few months? What were they called?

literally 0. i haven't read a book like last march (?) when I sped read The Kite Runner in 48 hours for a class 

Wolf’s Bane: Where do you want to be in life this time next year?

I have no clue! hahahahahahaaaaaaaaa

Yarrow: Do you know what vore is?

unfortunately 

Zinnia: Give a random fact about yourself.

I want to dye my hair a fun color but am afraid