#i have an obsession with two gay underwear models ;_;

[ludrii-shenanigins]

lud i cant copy it on mobile but answer all asks from that ask game pls

ALL QUESTIONS??? YOU MONSTER XDDDDDDD

1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans? tea cups, though wine glasses are fun too if you put other stuff than wine in it

2. chocolate bars or lollipops? chocolate 100%

3. bubblegum or cotton candy? neither xD

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you? aither as the perfect student, or as the lazy problematic child, depending on whether or not my neurodivergency inconvenienced them

5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups? I don't drink soda lol

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear? hmmm, pastel, tomboy, goth

7. earbuds or headphones? headphones 100%

8. movies or tv shows? Both. Both is good

9. favorite smell in the summer? sea

10. game you were best at in p.e.? uhh, none lmao, I was the worst in everything xD

11. what you have for breakfast on an average day? Pie of some sort (my mom makes them), or a yogurt

12. name of your favorite playlist? "songs" xDD

13. lanyard or key ring? key ring, lanyards are annoying

14. favorite non-chocolate candy? licorice <3

15. favorite book you read as a school assignment? hmm, Spalovač mrtvol (a Czech book)

16. most comfortable position to sit in? changes constantly lol

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes? crocs at home, sneakers outside if it's warm or boots if it's cold

18. ideal weather? 18-22°C, sunny, with a gentle breeze

19. sleeping position? on the side, hands crossed on my chest like I'm buried in a tomb

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)? on my laptop

21. obsession from childhood? dinosaurs xD and collecting random crap

22. role model? none I can think of tbh

23. strange habits? Clicking my tongue randomly, growling when getting out of bed, baring my teeth at myself in the mirror for no reason, sniffing the air if I'm looking for something ..am I an animal? xD

24. favorite crystal? I guess amethyst, it ourple

25. first song you remember hearing? I don't remember a thing xD

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather? hole up in my room and game or draw

27. favorite activity to do in cold weather? hole up in my room and game or draw

28. five songs to describe you? Yes I'm a Mess Psycho Oh no! Masochism Tango The Code

29. best way to bond with you? hang out doing the most random crap lol

30. places that you find sacred? tops of mountains, graveyards, tombs, other planets

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names? black dress with ouija board on it, chains, fingerless gloves, fishnets, metal claws

32. top five favorite vines? 1. "..and they were roommates" "Oh my god they were roommates" 2. "Two bros chillin' in a hot tub, five feet apart cuz they're not gay" 3. "Road work ahead? I sure hope it does" 4. "Even the babies are one of the most dangerous animals in the world, so I build this cage to keep them secure so there's no possible- oh my god" 5. Completely Giving Up, starring: Me, Me, Me, Me, and introducing Me

33. most used phrase in your phone? either "I don't remember" or "btw you're cute" lol

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head? Bobika

35. average time you fall asleep? around 22:30, though on the weekends it can go all the way up to 2:00 xD

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing? I don't remember anything xD

37. suitcase or duffel bag? suitcase

38. lemonade or tea? both. both are good

39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie? both. both are good

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school? hmm, a band of boys bought pink girl underwear and put it around the school xDDD

41. last person you texted? you Noodle lol

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets? BOTH. BOTH IS GOOD

43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket? hoodie, leather jacket, jean jacket

44. favorite scent for soap? lavender

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero? sci-fi or fantasy

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in? pajamas

47. favorite type of cheese? uhhhh, string cheese?

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be? mandarin? brain said ananas though

49. what saying or quote do you live by? well, I don't live by it, but I try "Take it easy, but take it"

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have? I can't recall

51. current stresses? school exams, Christmas, school exams

52. favorite font? comic sans B]

53. what is the current state of your hands? dirty from drawing xD and dry

54. what did you learn from your first job? I never had a job

55. favorite fairy tale? About the 7 ravens

56. favorite tradition? hmm, I really don't know, sorry xD

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome? finishing high school, reaching out to a therapist on my own, uhhhh surviving uni so far??

58. four talents you’re proud of having? drawing, poetry, making stuff from random crap like cardboard and wires, understanding computery stuff

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be? "Anyhoo- " "I don't remember" "Sorry, I zoned out" "See ya later, alligator!"

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be? something with powers and stuff

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.? hmm I have the high ground

62. seven characters you relate to? William (Who's Lila?) Stolas (Helluva Boss) Hiccup (HTTYD) Ranboo (DSMP) Alphys (Undertale) Anakin Skywalker (Star Wars) Ahsoka Tano (Star Wars)

63. five songs that would play in your club? oughhh these song questions xD literally the same 5 as before lmao, although switch Yes I'm a mess for My way

64. favorite website from your childhood? uhh, Friv.com lol, gamez

65. any permanent scars? one on my knee

66. favorite flower(s)? allium, sunflower, lilac, rose, dandelion

67. good luck charms? a necklace from my girlfriend, a handmade bee from England (I wear it on my pants)

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried? beer. HATE that stuff, never having another sip. Closely followed by dill

69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned? I got a lot of fun facts but with all of them I know how I learned them so xD

70. left or right handed? both handed lol

71. least favorite pattern? dots, I hate them for some reason, and vertical stripes

72. worst subject? P.E.

73. favorite weird flavor combo? cheese and chocolate

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen? 4 or 5

75. when did you lose your first tooth? When I was like uhhhh 7?? my first year in elementary school lol

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)? baked I think

77. best plant to grow on a windowsill? any and all, I love plants

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store? I don't drink coffee so ig sushi it is xD

79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo? I don't have either so uh yeah lmao

80. earth tones or jewel tones? What language is this?

81. fireflies or lightning bugs? Fireflies

82. pc or console? pc pc pc, but I love me some good PS2 gaming every now and then

83. writing or drawing? Drawinggg although I love writinggg although I love drawinggg although...

84. podcasts or talk radio? Neither, it distracts me xD

84. barbie or polly pocket? Huh? What's a polly pocket?

85. fairy tales or mythology? Both. Both is good

86. cookies or cupcakes? BOTH. BOTH IS GOOD.

87. your greatest fear? That nobody cares about me and will end up leaving me behind when things get tough and I'll die alone and lonely

88. your greatest wish? Peace and love on planet Earth and end to capitalism. I just wanna live a nice life without the looming threat of not being able to pay rent and stuff

89. who would you put before everyone else? Either myself or my girlfriend

90. luckiest mistake? I don't remember xD

91. boxes or bags? BOXESSS *crawls into one*

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights? Sunlight is great but FAIRY LIGHTSSSS

93. nicknames? In kindergarten they called me a crybaby, in elementary school this one dude called me a "Makyman" which was a mix o superman and my name, in high school one of my friends called me midget (am smol ok), and rn one of my other friends calls me Moonling And my girlfriend calles me Birdie :}

94. favorite season? I'd say spring Not too cold, not too warm, flowers bloom and everything gets back to life..

95. favorite app on your phone? uhhh, my beloved camera I think. I love taking pictures

96. desktop background? Screenshot from Ori and the Blind Forest (Definitive Edition)

97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized? 1. My own xD and barely at that

98. favorite historical era? Dinosaurs!!!! Closely followed by Victorian era, and I also got a soft spot for 1920s

--

this took way too long xDDD

[freshtvinc]

Since we see a lot of speculative art and videos about the futures of the cast we decided to consult a high-ranking Total Drama writer who wished to remain unnamed. Here's what he said:

R: Thanks for sitting down with me today. The fans have a few theories but we want the inside scoop.

A: No problem. This is something Tom and I have brainstormed a lot over the past few years.

R: So first off, what can we say about the first gen cast?

A: Well... we haven't gotten around to everyone, but we definitely know Duncan remains in prison for the rest of his life.

R: For the cottage?

A: No and yes, he was actually meant to be set free around 2017 but he shanked another prisoner and got a life sentence.

R: Oh wow. How does Courtney feel about that?

A: She didn't give a fuck honestly. So what? He was just some guy she dated for like two weeks. She's an adult. She moved on.

R: Did she end up becoming a lawyer?

A: No, actually she went into business. She became a big city executive, consumed by her work and meaningless relationships. Eventually she traveled back to her hometown to spend the holidays with her dying father and she met a nice man there. They settled down and had three kids in their thirties. She's very happy. We're planning to sell this idea to Hallmark.

R: I see. What about Gwen?

A: She got married right out of college to an accountant named Mert. She lives in Buffalo New York now. Honestly her life is pretty boring can we move on to someone else?

R: Sure. Geoff and Bridgette?

A: Splitsville right after TD ended. Bridgette lives in Australia as a professional surfer and Geoff is married in Canada with three kids. He enjoys grilling and sitting on the porch.

R: Owen? Noah?

A: Owen lives with his parents and his girlfriend and works as a bartender. Noah writes for Buzzfeed.

R: Wait, so is everyone in Total Drama straight?

A: Yes.

R: Not even a single gay or bi character?

A: No. All of them are straight.

R: Wow. Ok. So what about Alejandro and Heather?

A: Alejandro does men's underwear modeling in Europe. Heather got a degree in marketing. Neither of them are married but both often spend long nights regretting their lives and what they lost. What they could've been if they had made the right choices. In this way they remain the most connected out of all the cast. They have more to regret.

R: ...Alright. What about Cody and Sierra?

A: Sierra went on mood stabilizers and her obsession with Total Drama went away. We don't care about Cody.

R: Beth? Lindsay? Tyler? Justin?

A: Beth learned that beauty comes from confidence and now she works as a magazine editor in New York City. She's incredibly famous and wealthy. Lindsay usually hangs out around strip malls and convinces guys to buy her pedicures. Tyler got high on shrooms in college and saw hell. He now lives in a monastery. Justin followed a similar path but he became Amish instead. No one has heard from him in years.

A (unprompted): Leshawna got into real estate and lives in St. Paul, Minnesota. Harold's surprisingly wealthy great uncle passed, leaving him with a fortune of millions. He now owns three convention centers across Canada. Trent is addicted to cocaine and lives in a motel. You probably haven't seen Spun but it's kinda like that.

R: I've seen Spun.

A: Oh. Why?

R: ...Uh, not important. What about the second gen cast?

A: Who?

R: Like, Zoey, and Mike, and Cameron...

A: Oh we don't care about them. I don't think Tom even remembers ROTI.

R: Pahkitew?

A: No thoughts whatsoever.

R: Ridonculous Race?

A: The fuck is that?

R: Alright, well it looks like that's the end of the interview then. Thanks for meeting with me, I'm sure the fans will love this.

A: They better.

[END OF TRANSMISSION]

[pangzi]

Otome gay [Nielan] - Chapter 3

word count: 2416  other chapters:  INTRO - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 [AO3]

The meeting with Xichen had only fueled Mingjue’s obsession with the game. He might not have played the game after returning home on Monday, but on Tuesday he was back on it. He played the game all week, but didn’t get any further. He kept getting the neutral ending. At one point he thought he was going to get the negative one, but then once again got the neutral ending. He was getting quite desperate, to be honest. And he was also slightly embarrassed by the amount of time he spent playing this game. Only taking breaks to eat, do the necessary exercises for his foot and work out as much as he could without putting too much pressure on his leg. 

With any other character, he probably would’ve given up a long time ago. But, as Huaisang had said, this was a special character. Maybe it also had something to do with how he thought of Xichen’s every time this character smiled, and it made him feel a certain way. But Mingjue wasn’t ready to admit that to himself, he had only met the man once for god’s sake! 

It was Thursday evening now and Mingjue has had enough! He had tried absolutely everything! He couldn't handle one more glimpse of the annoying dancer boy nor could he handle Xichen telling him he’s an amazing friend once again. Mingjue was done trying to figure it out himself! He grabbed his phone and called his brother. 

“Dage! To what do I owe this pleasure?” Huaisang chirped as soon as he picked up the phone.

“Huaisang”, Mingjue said sternly, “Why can’t I date Xichen?” 

Huaisang was quiet for a moment. “Ehh, because you haven’t asked him out?”

“Ask him out? I haven’t gotten the option to ask hi-” Oh… He wasn’t talking about the game. “I meant in the game, you brat!”

Huaisang needed a moment to catch his breath after that, he couldn’t help but laugh at that. “I’m sorry, I had no idea you meant the game”, he giggled, taking a few deep breaths before calming down and answering his brother’s question. “I can’t believe you still haven’t figured it out, dage!” 

“Just tell him!” Mingjue heard Wuxian say in the background, but Huaisang only shushed him. 

“No, he’ll figure it out! Xichen’s character is just a very special one, remember that!” 

Mingjue grunted in reply. He should’ve known he’d get nothing from this, his brother just loved to torture him! 

“Now that I’ve got you on the phone anyway, I have a favour to ask, dage!” 

Mingjue sighed, he knew that tone. He could almost hear his brother pout through the phone. “What is it?” 

“You know that art class I follow, right? Well, the model they hired for this week’s classes kind of quit and now I have to find another model-” 

“Why do you have to find someone new?” Mingjue asked. “Isn’t that your teacher’s job?”

“Because it was his fault!” Wuxian yelled from the background.

“It wasn’t!” Huaisang snapped back. “It was your brother’s fault!” 

“Because you were flirting with him!” 

“I was not! I just told him he was handsome, he started flirting with me. I would’ve kindly told him off had Jiang Cheng not immediately swooped in!” 

Mingjue had no idea what was going on and he didn’t feel like figuring it out to be honest… 

“Anyway,” Huaisang went on, “The classes are focused on drawing the male body and muscles right now, and who is more muscular and manly than my brother?”

“You want me to model?” Mingjue wasn’t prudish about showing his body, but standing half naked in front of a group of strangers for a few hours was something else. 

“Please, dage! For me? It’s only for an hour,” Huaisang whined, “It’s such a good art class, I wouldn’t want to disappoint the teacher, he’s amazing and always so kind!” 

Mingjue sighed, he really needed to get immune to that tone. “All right, all right, but only this once. Let me know when and where and I’ll see if I can be there” 

“You’re the best! I’ll text you the details!” Huaisang said before quickly saying goodbye and ending the phone call so his brother couldn’t change his mind. Only a few minutes later Mingjue received a message with the details. It was tomorrow, a few hours after his last doctor’s appointment for his foot, which meant he could drive there, which was good as Mingjue wasn’t sure he could survive another two hours on public transport to get to Huaisang’s university.

Mingjue put the details in his calendar app and then looked at his computer again. No matter how much he wanted to finish this damn game, he had to take a break. He saved and put his computer away, deciding to take a short walk to clear his mind.

The walk did not clear his mind though. His thoughts kept wandering off to the game, to Xichen. He felt so silly. It was just a game, succeeding in the game wouldn’t help him see Xichen again, and even less with actually getting a date with the man. He’d probably laugh at him, if he ever found out. He’d probably think Mingjue is weird or something. There he goes again, assuming he’ll see Xichen again and that Xichen would want to date him. Huaisang had told him about Xichen and Wangji a bit during lunch, everything Mingjue had heard about them only made it more obvious to Mingjue that Lan Xichen was way out of his league, but still, a man can dream right? 

After his walk he decided to go to bed early and finally started reading that book that had been laying on his nightstand for weeks now. When his doctor put him on sick leave for a few weeks, Mingjue had planned on reading this book, and multiple others that had been collecting dust since he bought them. However, Monday he’d go back to work and he hadn’t even touched the book because of the stupid otome game. 

It was almost weird, walking out of the doctor’s office without a cast. His leg looked ridiculously skinny next to the other and felt incredibly weak. With the right exercise it’d be back to normal in no time, but still it was weird, very weird. 

With still a few hours to go before he had to be at the art class, he took his time getting home. He grabbed lunch at his favourite place and then even popped by the gym to see if the place hadn’t burnt down in his absence. Zonghui didn’t allow him to stay long, though, immediately sending him home to enjoy his last few days of freedom after catching up for a bit. 

That he had a hard time finding the room the art class was in wasn’t even surprising to Mingjue. He had found the building easily, but the room numbers were so illogical it took him awhile to find the right place. 

The door to the room was open but he still knocked softly before walking in. There were only a few people in the room who barely even looked up as he walked in. He stood near the door awkwardly for a while, looking around for someone who could be the teacher. He was just about to ask someone when he heard his name. 

“Nie Mingjue, what are you doing in my class?” Mingjue’s heart stopped. He knew that voice. 

“Xichen”, Mingjue stammered. “Your class?” He looked at Xichen, who was putting away some paint brushes one by one. He looked even more beautiful than he remembered. 

Xichen nodded with a smile. “I guess Huaisang didn’t mention I’m his art teacher?” Mingjue shook his head. “What brings you here?” 

Xichen was the teacher. Mingjue was going to lose it, he wasn’t going to sit naked in front of Lan Xichen for an hour just like that? Not that he was opposed to Xichen seeing him naked, he’d rather that happened in a more private situation, maybe after some dates… He wanted to leave right now, maybe yell at his little brother a little bit for not telling him Xichen would be there. But no, he promised Huaisang he’d do this, and not doing this would mean letting both Huaisang and Xichen down. This still meant spending time with Xichen, he hadn’t even expected to ever see the man again and yet, here he was, Mingjue shouldn’t let that go to waste. Maybe afterwards he could even ask Xichen out to dinner, or at least ask for his number.

“Huaisang said he was tasked to find a new model for the class”, Mingjue responded, trying to sound confident. Xichen dropped the last paintbrush as Mingjue said that. He kneeled down to pick it up, staying down a little too long before straightening up again with a soft smile. 

“You?” He asked. Mingjue nodded. “All right. You can undress in there” His voice sounded a bit shaky, and Mingjue wasn’t quite sure what to make of that. He made his way towards the room Xichen was pointing at. He opened the door but didn’t go inside. 

“Xichen?” He asked, turning around, which seemed to startle the teacher who once again lost his grip on some art supplies. “How naked do you need me?” 

Xichen turned around, ears beet red. Some students stifled a laugh at their antics. “Fully naked would be best but if you’re not comfortable with that you can keep your underwear on of course!” Mingjue swallowed thickly, nodded and went into the room to get undressed.

He stood in his underwear for a while, debating whether or not to take it off too. Eventually he decided he wasn’t quite comfortable being naked in front of a group of university students. He didn’t even realise how long he’d been in there until there was a soft knock on the door.

“Mingjue?” Xichen asked, “Is everything all right?” 

Mingjue just opened the door in response, which seemed to catch Xichen off guard. He flinched a bit before stepping back. Mingjue just smiled at him awkwardly, waiting for instructions. Xichen just stared at him for a bit before clearing his throat. 

“If you would just sit on the chair in the middle of the room, please”, he told Mingjue, voice a bit unsteady, “Try not to move too much, but if you’re uncomfortable of course you can move!” Then he turned around to face his students, telling them what to do and quickly going over what they had discussed last class. His tone was completely different from before, after which Xichen sat down behind an easel himself, right in front of Mingjue, who shifted a bit uncomfortable under the teacher’s gaze. Xichen right in front of him helped him a bit, too, though. He had something to focus on now, looking at him helped Mingjue completely ignore all the students coming up for a closer look. He had some time to really take in Xichen now and man, he was even more beautiful than Mingjue already thought he was. 

Both Mingjue and Xichen seemed to be awoken from a trance when a student loudly asked for his teacher’s help. Xichen laughed apologetically as he put his pencil to the side and got up to see what his student wanted to ask him. 

“What’s up with mr. Lan today?” Mingjue heard one of the students closest to him ask the person next to them. “He’s never drawn with us, ever, nor have I ever seen him this absent minded and I’ve been in his class for years now.” Their friend didn’t have the chance to reply, as Xichen had made his way towards them, inspecting their drawing and telling them how to improve it. Next, he makes his way up to Mingjue. 

“You’re doing wonderful, Mingjue”, he said, “I don’t think we’ve ever had a model as wonderful as you, I must be sure to thank Huaisang��

Mingjue couldn’t help but blush at those words. “I’m sure that’s not true”, he replied. 

Xichen shook his head with a smile. “I was raised to never tell a lie” This was how he would die, Mingjue was sure of it, this man was going to make his heart stop for real some day. 

The class was over before Mingjue even knew it. In all his looking at Xichen and thinking about Xichen, he had completely forgotten to come up with a way to ask Xichen’s number. As he got dressed he kept thinking of different ways to ask him without being too aggressive about it. 

When he came out of the dressing room, he decided to just wing it and see what would happen. Though, when he saw Xichen, all words and thoughts seem to leave him once again. He was back behind his easel, brow furrowed in concentration as he drew. Mingjue was whipped and he realised that that scared him. Never had he felt this way this fast about someone, and he didn’t know what to do about it. 

Xichen smiled at him as he saw him, putting the drawing he was working on away in a binder. Mingjue smiled back, checking one last time he wasn’t forgetting anything before making his way towards Xichen.

“Thank you for doing this”, Xichen said. 

“There are few things I wouldn’t do for my brother”, Mingjue said, “It was my pleasure” This was his chance, come on Mingjue you can do it!

“The pleasure was completely mine”, Xichen blurted out, slapping his hand in front of his mouth as soon as he said it. “I mean- What I meant to say was that I had hoped to see you again after our first encounter, so it was a nice surprise to have you walk into my classroom”

Xichen had wanted to see him again too. Mingjue’s brain needed a moment to process that information, so he just stared at the man in front of him in silence for a bit before putting himself together, becoming the confident man everyone saw him as. 

“As that feeling is mutual, maybe we could see each other again some time?” 

Xichen stared at him blankly before bursting into a beaming smile that made Mingjue’s heart beat so hard it might fly out of his chest. “I would love that”, Xichen replied. Mingjue couldn’t believe his luck as they added each other on Wechat before saying goodbye.

[nat-roman0ff]

iv. sex & candy, among other things

 series of blurbs // a certain time and place (read full series in my masterlist!)

 iv. sex & candy, among other things

the one where they almost say ‘i love you’.

wc: 3,214

warnings: cursing (but in a good way), smut (see title), & melted chocolate (gross).

---

She always does this, thing. Despite however many times he’s seen her naked (which Shawn counts at about 285 at this point) she still hides herself. He isn’t sure if it’s like, a confidence thing. Because he’s pretty sure she’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. And not in that, facetune Instagram kind of way either. She doesn’t obsess over her hair or having the perfect winged eyeliner. She’s beautiful in the way her face lights up when she sees someone walking their dog, or seeing a cute baby despite absolutely hating children, or when she’s reaching for his belt (okay that last one was a bit of a stretch, but they’re both naked and who are we kidding, he’s hoping round two will happen once she wakes up). 

 Shawn begins by tracing her shoulder; he’s basically obsessed with the way that her skin prickles when he touches her, even when she’s asleep. His cheeks heat up when he reaches her neck, his fingers trailing over the purple marks from the night before. He’s sure he’s got a few on him as well. Neither of them had been exactly gentle last night. 

 “Stop doing that, it makes my nips get all hard,” she says, not bothering to open her eyes as a chill shivers down her spine. 

She feels the breath of Shawn’s laugh graze her neck, “maybe that was my intention,” he smirks, she can feel it against her skin when he kisses her there.

 She rolls closer to face him, “you’re gross,” she says, poking at the divet in his cheek.

 “You seem to like me enough.” 

 Her eyes roll, “only sometimes.” 

 Shawn cuts her off by giving her a kiss. It’s soft but so goddamn yearning, as if he hadn’t gone to town on her for hours and hours just a short time ago. It doesn’t take long for his mouth to open and their tongues to mingle. She hitches her leg over his hip and rolls him onto his back, straddling him. She breaks the kiss and sits back, allowing him to take in her full bare upper torso, her bottom half covered only by a tiny pair of lace underwear that sits dangerously low on her hips. 

 He resists the urge to fucking rip them off of her.

 She blushes while his hands take inventory of her body, starting at their resting point on her hips and moving slowly up her sides and back, moving to the front to give her breasts a firm squeeze then roaming the front of her soft stomach. She won’t make eye contact and he notices. Her hands do this weird thing where he can’t tell if she’s trying to stifle a cough or hide her face. She lets him see all of her but she won’t watch. 

 Shawn notices and he hates it. It’s the thing. He grabs the side of her face firmly and forces her to look at him.

 “Do you not feel good about yourself?” Shawn asks while the fingers of his free hand ghost her hip. 

 She scoffs, pushing away his hand from her face, “why would you fucking ask me that?”

 “You don’t have to be perfect,” He starts, and he already hates what he’s saying, “not that I think you aren’t or are. Fuck, this is all coming out so wrong,” he pulls at his curls “I’m just trying to say that if you’re insecure that’s okay. I’m not here to fix that but I want to know why and I want you to want to feel better about yourself. Regardless of what me or anyone else says or how we feel about you.” 

 She wasn’t insecure about her body - at least, not insecure more than the average girl. She had her bad hair days, or the zit from Hell that just doesn’t go away but she rarely felt unhappy with her looks. And she supposes she’s a very lucky person in that sense. She understood that her body was hers and hers alone, a vessel that gets you up and puts you down to sleep every day. That not all of them looked the same and she was never going to be the flawless model on the cover pages of the magazines she stole from her mother’s nightstand as a girl. She understood that her curves were her own, that her stomach rolled when she sat down and that was okay. It didn’t make her any more or less of a woman. 

 What she was insecure about were her feelings for Shawn. She knew if she had to watch the look in his eyes every time his hands covered her body in the most delicious way that she would absolutely lose it. Probably cry a little, scream, even. The two of them were so caught up in this not being a thing that it became a thing and the lack of answers and knowledge about the future was beginning to drive her batshit crazy.

 He looks for answers in her eyes but she won’t look at him. He’s thankful they’re in her bed instead of his, it’s smaller, so it forces them closer together when they cuddle at night. In fact, he can’t really remember the last time he spent a night in his own bed. At least a night in his own bed without her by his side.

 “You don’t have to be my anti-hero, Shawn. I know I’m not what you’re used to. I know this just is what it is for you. Just be you and don’t fucking complicate it by telling me I’m beautiful-” 

 “But you are,” he cuts off, sitting up, his chest flush with hers, “and you deserve to be told that you are.”

 She rolls her eyes again, “just shut up and fuck me already.”

 Shawn’s hands smooth up the side of her, “really fucking eloquent for someone who can’t look at me when I touch her.” 

 She tries to get off of him but he plants her across his lap, “we’re not doing this right now.” 

 “Then when are we?” He pleads, “when are we finally going to do this? Whatever the fuck this is in your mind.” 

 She doesn’t say anything and instead leans down slowly, letting her pert nipples skim across his chest, “I will literally fuck you until you shut up,” she whispers in his ear before biting and tugging on the lobe. 

 Shawn puts his hands behind his head, “go for it. You know how hard it is for me to shut up.” 

 She raises an eyebrow and crawls backwards a smidge, kissing his chest and working her way down his stomach, tongue swiping at the V that disappears under his boxers. Shawn prides himself on having an excellent poker face, and watches her with a cocky smirk. 

 “So what are your thoughts on this Communist Manifesto?” Shawn starts. 

 She’s not gentle when she rips Shawn’s boxers down his thighs. He’s only half hard, so she licks her palm and wraps her fingers gently around him. He twitches in her hand and she can see the heat rise in his cheeks and flow to his chest. 

 She pumps him slowly at first, getting her wrist into a rhythm that she knows will both torture Shawn, and also get him hard in like, thirty seconds flat. He takes in a deep breath and holds it when her lips slip over the tip of his cock.

 “When did you first figure out Albus Dumbledore was gay? For me, it was-” 

 He grunts and clears his throat, his voice a little higher pitched now, “ittttt-it-it,” he struggles, “was in Goblet of Fire.” 

 “That’s easy, knew it from Chamber of Secrets,” She licks the underside of his cock, tongue tracing the prominent vein that protrudes from it.

 Shawn’s a little uneasy now and she’s winning, but Shawn also isn’t a quitter. She lays out flat now between his legs, massaging his thigh with one hand as she uses the other to edge him. She’ll start and stop; twist, lick, anything unpredictable. Finally, she takes him fully in her mouth, gagging a little when he hits the back of her throat and Shawn swears he goes full stupid for a second. She’s so wet and warm around him he’s finding it hard to concentrate on anything else except maybe what her pussy is going to feel like later. 

 “You ever see a bat before? They’re really hideous. My sister got one stuck in her hair once when it was flying around the backyard.” 

 She pulls back up, releasing him with a pop. He’s fully hard know, his cock a pretty pink and wet with her spit. She can already feel her own wetness pooling between her thighs and she kisses soft little pecks into his thighs and back up his body.

 “You want my ass or my pussy?” 

 Shawn chokes. 

 “P-pussy?” He isn’t sure why he says it like a question. 

 She reaches over him and into the nightstand for a condom, “are we already out again?” 

 He just nods.

 She shrugs, “I’ll just let you finish on my face then.” 

 “You kiss your mother with that mouth?!?”

 She kisses the side of his face, “only on major holidays.” 

 Shawn grabs her hips, squeezing at the bare flesh and situates her back on top of him. She rubs her clothed center against his cock and it’s just the perfect fucking amount of friction that he’s pretty sure he’s going to bust if he doesn’t get inside of her right now. 

 He wraps his whole hand around the dainty fabric of her underwear and rips it completely off, tossing the fabric aside. 

 “Hey!” She slaps his arm, “Those were one of my favorite pairs!” 

 Shawn lines himself up with her, “you’ll get over it,” he says before slamming into her. 

 All the breath is knocked from her lungs and it takes her a moment to adjust to his size. She places her hands on his broad chest and starts to rock herself. Shawn loves the way she feels around him, so tight like she was made just for him, their bodies the perfect fit for one another. He’s felt that ever since the first night in the bathtub.

 “Fuck, Shawn,” She gasps, “I can’t tell, are we in a fight?” 

 He fucks up into her, loving the way his length disappears entirely inside of her, “now who’s the one who won’t shut up?” 

 “Fuck you.” 

 He grasps her hips so tightly she’s positive there will be marks in the morning, “already am.” 

 They find their pacing eventually, her on top and Shawn’s hands guiding her movements. She feels that familiar feeling start to sprout in her belly. It warms her veins and spreads so quickly she thinks she might pass out.

 Shawn swears he’s never seen something so brilliant in his life; her hair a mess, cheeks pink, body shining with sweat and her breasts bouncing with each thrust. She throws her head back, and he allows one of his hands to slide up her body and around her throat. He gives a gentle squeeze and she nods.

 “If you’re horNAY let’s do it, ride it, my pony,” Shawn sings at the top of his lungs. 

 She stops all movement, “are you really singing Pony while you’re inside me?”

 “I couldn’t think of anything to talk about and it’s too soon to cum.” 

 She rolls her eyes and she can feel him twitch inside her when she does, “so I win?”

 He sits up and nips her chin, “you’ll never win, Baby.”

 “You wanna bet?” 

 She pushes his chest and he falls back down onto the pillows, she leans forward with force, probably a little too much, and her hand goes straight through the wall behind the bed. 

 Shawn snorts, and she pulls her hand out of the wall, “well, I hope I get my security deposit back now.” 

 He plucks the pieces of drywall from his hair and tries to pull himself from her but she grabs his wrist in protest, “oh, we aren’t stopping!” She states. 

 “There’s nothing sexy about asbestos,” Shawn deadpans.

 She gets off of him and winces at the feeling of losing him between her thighs. It’s then that she notices the blood between her knuckles. It’s warm and falls down her wrist, mixing with the dusty powder from the drywall on her hand. 

 “Shit,” she mutters to herself, “I’ll be right back.” 

 She grabs a shirt from the floor and throws it over her head before scurrying to the bathroom, clenching her bleeding hand to her chest. She locks the door behind her and isn’t quite sure why. It doesn’t take long to clean up, it’s just a couple of minor cuts and she bandages them quickly. It isn’t until she looks up at herself in the bathroom mirror and sees the fading fingerprints of where Shawn’s hand was around her neck that she begins to cry. 

 It starts as sort of a bubbling, like a pot of water that foams and spits onto the burner just before spilling all the way over. She’s not always like this, but it happens most of the time after she’s with Shawn. The intimacy is the hardest part. She can be friends and banter with him until the cows come home, but it’s not until it’s three in the morning and they’re naked in her full size bed that he barely fits on that she just can’t fucking handle it. 

 Some days she thinks she should end it, to just be friends, whatever that meant to them at this point. She knows herself better than that though, she knows how badly her body, mind and soul crave him until the point where it physically hurts not to be around him, holding him, fucking him. She’s addicted, in a way. It’s exhilarating in some ways to never have an answer. It means it’s never quite tangible, there’s always something to chase after.

 She lets the tears fall and she knows Shawn will see right through her the second she gets back to him. It’s a feeble attempt, but she washes her face and dries her eyes and works up the courage to back back to the boy she wants to scream I love you to at the top of her lungs. 

 Something strikes her then; she could say it to him. There’s plenty of different types of love that exists in human existence. 

 “I love you, Shawn,” she says to herself in the mirror, her hands white knuckling the edge of the sink, “I. Love. You.” 

 Bile rises in her throat at the thought of his reaction. She doesn’t think she could stand it if he rejected her, which she knows is a very reasonable outcome. She just doesn’t fit into the big picture of his life, she was the friend with an empty bed and open arms every time he came home. She’s sure there were plenty of other girls in between her that Shawn didn’t talk about.

 When she returns from the bathroom, Shawn’s got his boxers back on he’s eating a chocolate bar. 

 “I have many questions for you. First, where’d your boner go?” She asks. 

 Shawn’s eyes pan to a discarded towel on the floor, “...don’t touch that.” 

 She grimaces, “you’re gross.” 

 “You were in the bathroom for like twenty minutes! It hurt!” 

 She rolls her eyes and his heart skips two beats in a row, “second question, where’d you get that chocolate?” 

 He takes a bite, “it was in the back pocket of my jeans, it’s a little melted though. Want some?” 

 She clears the room and jumps on the bed, taking a bite from his hand. He’s sitting up against the wall behind the bed, his feet still dangling off the bottom edge of the mattress. She curls into him and he wraps an arm around her, “why were you crying?” He asks, kissing the top of her head.

 She hides her face in his shirt, “my hand hurts.”

 “I once watched you literally get hit by a moving car and you got up and said ‘all good mate’, a bloody hand doesn’t make you cry. What’s wrong? Did I do something?” 

 She shakes her head.

 His fingers trace where his fingers held her throat, “was it the choking? We don’t have to do that next time, I just thought-” 

 “No you can choke me anytime.” 

 Shawn snorts and she side eyes him, “I’m just thinking too much lately.” 

 He raises an eye, “oh? About what?” 

 She shrugs, “I don’t know...maybe getting in a relationship would be nice. Maybe it’d be nice to be choked by only one person in my life.” 

 “Who the fuck else is choking you?” 

 She glares, “no one, Shawn. That’s the point.” 

 His mind is blanking. Shawn always thought he was good at reading people. The two of them had always been blunt to each other about everything; there were no lines to read between, no double meanings. This was the first time in the entirety of their friendship that Shawn didn’t know what she was talking about. 

 “What do you mean?” 

 She pulls away from him and rolls over to face away from him, “nothing, never mind.” 

 “Do you - do you not want to do this anymore?” He asks, “if there’s someone and you want to be with them I want that for you. I just want you happiest.” 

 With me, he thinks. 

 She rolls over, “no, there’s no one, Shawn. It was just a stray thought in my stupid after sex girl brain. It’s called hormones.” 

 Her heart races, and she thinks that now is the perfect time. The perfect time to grab his big stupid face and look him in those honey eyes and tell him everything she’s wanted to tell him since the first time they met. 

 Shawn’s heart breaks a little thinking of her with someone else. He’s sure that comment had a second meaning and gets a surge of jealousy that weakens his bones at that thought of someone else holding her like he does. 

 She’s here though, in bed with him, fucking him, wearing his teeshirt. That has to mean something for now, that for now she’s his but not really. That whoever this mystery person is, is just a fleeting thought in the here and now and he is the here and now. 

 This is his chance, he thinks. This is that moment when the walls are down and it’s time to lay it all out on the table. Shawn tugs at the sleeve of her teeshirt and rolls her over onto her back so he can get a look at her. 

 “What?” She asks, pinching his chin between her thumb and forefinger. 

 He moves her hand to his chest, his heart beating beneath it so rapidly and harshly he can hear the way the blood surges through his veins. His breath comes in short gasps. It’s her turn to take his hand and press it to her chest. 

 Their misguided hearts beat in synchrony beneath each other’s palms, but neither have the gall to say the words that are on the tips of both their tongues. 

[britishassistant]

But I Like One Piece (3)

Her schedule becomes much busier after that.

She gets up an hour before training with Gai-sensei and goes to get Naruto. He’s taken to setting up traps again to dissuade her, growing more complex and subtle by the day.

She’s getting very good at dodging and disarming them.

They train with Gai-sensei for two hours. Usually running laps and doing katas focused on fluidity and strength. He seems to have taken Sanji’s creed as a personal challenge and she’s usually wearing mitten-like weights over her hands or has her arms tied behind her back.

After training, she returns home to practice katas with her father, using a smaller bokken.

She has a very short amount of time to shower and get dressed before Naruto arrives for breakfast with her family.

Sometimes Gai-sensei joins them, and she never knew embarrassment before she had to watch her parents try not to swoon over his every word. She suspects both Okaa-sama and Otou-sama have crushes on him.

Naruto grimaces next to her and they eat their food in double time and shout their goodbyes as they run to the Academy.

They eat lunch separately.

It’s Naruto’s idea, and rather ingenious if she does say so.

They sit at opposite ends of the same table while Ino, Sakura, Shikamaru (sleepy guy), Chouji, and Kiba are spread out between them. She knows their names now. Ino made sure of it.

Ino and Sakura try to get her involved in girl talk, Chouji alternates between talking to her about cooking and to Shikamaru about classes, while Kiba and Naruto discuss what kind of cool ninja moves they know and will learn next year.

They’re close enough that it still feels like they’re spending time together, but the conversation and slight dispersal of the seating positions mean they’re “technically” not eating a meal together.

After the Academy day is over, she goes to the market with her mother to buy groceries. Once they get back, she prepares their lunch boxes the moment groceries are put away, making extra due to the sheer amount of sharing that goes on, with Naruto yelling ridiculous suggestions as Okaa-sama measures him for new clothes.

He seems to be going through a growth spurt, now his body is getting the nutrients it needs.

They finish their homework together in the kitchen while her mother makes dinner. Otou-sama usually arrives in time for them to finish setting the table and they eat dinner together.

On Wednesdays and Fridays they get ramen from Ichiraku’s. Every other weekend is when the Hokage checks in on Naruto, so she’ll not see him for the entire two days.

After Naruto leaves for his curfew, she helps wash the dishes while her parents ensure she’s up to speed on their family history.

She goes to bed early, because she learned quickly not doing so made Gai-sensei’s training that much worse to bear.

They move up a year.

It’s almost a shame, because towards the end there the teacher had begun warming up to Naruto, if saying “Good luck Ketsugi, Uzumaki.” counts as “warming up”.

She supposes she maybe should’ve had a bit more faith in the teacher, even if the woman does have an unhealthy idealization of the World Government-level tyrant Usagi-hime and is completely, totally wrong about pirates being poor role models to aspire to.

Now they’re going to have a new teacher and begin the whole rigmarole over again.

At least their classmates are already used to him, and they get a three week break before the summer term starts.

Her new birthday’s the weekend before classes start up again too, so there’s that.

Naruto’s being stalked.

She notices it a few days into the break, when Okaa-sama begs for them to act their age for once and go play outside instead of just training or cooking.

Naruto knows a good swing set outside the Academy and they spend half an hour trying to see if they can get the swing to go all the way round.

Yes, she has the memories and partial mindset of a twenty year old, but this is the dream of every child who has ever been on a swing, including her, and they are in an anime ninja world.

If there’s anywhere it’ll be possible to fulfill this dream, it’s here.

She’s managed to go almost horizontal on her swing while Naruto whoops in glee behind her, and on the backswing she spots a blur of dark hair hiding behind a tree and watching them.

No, she thinks, slowing a little while Naruto kicks with increased vigor and whoops again once he touches tree branches, the person’s weird pale eyes remaining fixed on his swinging. Watching him.

The stalker follows them everywhere.

She’s getting reasonably sure the stalker is a girl, because just about the only place she doesn’t follow Naruto is the boy’s bathroom.

She’s almost on par with the masks for stealth otherwise, remaining far enough away that it’s not obvious she’s stalking but close enough that she always has a clear line of sight to Naruto.

She’s definitely a member of one of the village clans. Her skills and the symbol on her high-quality clothing attest to that much. But what’s her interest in Naruto?

She waits a minute after Naruto enters the bathroom, and then walks towards the stalker.

The girl knows better than to run and draw attention to herself, but she does backpedal a bit.

“Look,” She says, not unkindly. “I don’t know who you are. I don’t know why you’re watching Naruto. I don’t think you want to hurt him, and I’ll let you off so long as you don’t. Just don’t steal any of his underwear, or invade his privacy and make him uncomfortable, or we’ll have problems. Am I clear?”

The girl blushes tomato red. She opens and closes her mouth several times. She flees.

She sighs. The stalker may have just been too shy for her own good, but it’s always wise to nip a potential yandere in the bud before obsession really takes hold.

That weekend they get an addition to their morning training.

Gai-sensei comes striding onto their training field with a boy about their age trotting along behind him. He has a braid and very bushy eyebrows.

“This is Rock Lee!” Gai-sensei says proudly. “He will be joining our most youthful training!”

“I am Rock Lee and I am eight years old.” The boy introduces himself. “I am honored to meet the students of Maito Gai-sensei!”

“I’m Uzumaki Naruto and I’m seven! Imma be the Hokage, believe it!” Naruto cheers, waking up more with the chance to say his dream.

“Ketsugi Mayu. I’ll be seven two weeks from now. It’s nice to meet you, Lee-senpai.” She bows to him.

“Ah! It is I who should be calling you senpai, as you were students of Maito Gai-sensei before me!” Rock Lee insists, eyes shining. What a polite boy.

“Heck yeah! Just call me Naruto-senpai!” Naruto boasts, hands on his hips and nose in the air.

“No, don’t make him do that...”

“HOW YOUTHFUL!!” Gai-sensei roars, tears of joy streaming down his cheeks. The only person she’s ever seen cry more than him is Franky. “It brings me much joy to see my students getting along so well! Yosh! LET US RUN 50 LAPS AROUND KONOHA ON OUR HANDS!!”

“Yes, Gai-sensei!!” Lee yells back.

“Lee!”

“Gai-sensei!”

“Lee!”

“Gai-sensei!”

She and Naruto share a horrified glance. Oh god there’s two of them now.

There’s a lot of falling on faces, and 50 laps around Konoha do not get completed. They do manage 20 circuits somehow, and Gai-sensei tells them all he’s extremely proud of them.

That’s what’s nice about Gai-sensei. Even if you couldn’t quite reach the goal he set the first time, he’s always encouraging and takes every effort as something to be celebrated and built upon. He makes you want to succeed, but not worry about failing to get there.

They’re doing cool down stretches when Lee’s stomach growls.

Her eyes narrow.

Naruto catches sight of the look on her face and begins snickering.

Gai-sensei, cheerfully oblivious, straightens up. “Yosh! Mayu-chan, would your parents mind if we imposed upon them for breakfast?”

“Of course not Gai-sensei. They’d be delighted to have you.” She smiles.

Lee curls into himself a little, beginning to retreat. “Then I shall meet you all here tomorrow! Have a good morn—”

Her hand clamps down on his arm. She keeps smiling. “Training breakfasts are at my house. Here’s the address for you, so you can join us.”

Lee blinks, eyes shining suspiciously. “Ah...uh..is this...okay?”

“Don’t fight it Lee!” Naruto calls behind her. “Or she’ll hunt you down to feed you, believe it!”

“I did not hunt you down!” She yelps indignantly. “You set traps when I left you food!”

“I just wanted to say thank you!” “With chalk dust?!”

And so Lee joins them for breakfast.

He’s loud and a bit awkward, effusively thanking her parents for even the smallest of things and easily getting caught up in Gai-sensei’s pace.

He doesn’t have a mean bone in his body though, and can be surprisingly level-headed and reliable when not overexcited. Which, admittedly, is a lot of the time.

He also likes her curries, which Naruto wrongly insists are “pure LAVA on a plate, Mayu-chan, curry’s supposed to be sweet and savory, not burn your mouth off!”

She’s just glad she now knows somebody who can appreciate what a real curry is rather than the sweet, spice less sauce that cowards attempt to pretend counts.

Her parents are convinced he’s somehow Gai-sensei’s long lost son. To be fair to them, the eyebrows and enthusiasm are very...similar. Their theorizing ran rampant when Lee mentioned he lived in the Village Orphanage while assuring her he did, in fact, get enough to eat.

Gai-sensei isn’t exactly dissuading these theories with how much he mother-hens the boy either. She suspects he overacts and exaggerates his normal robustness a little bit for Lee, to stop the boy from glancing around during training sessions or meals like he can’t quite believe he deserves to be here.

She can’t exactly criticize, since she and Naruto and Okaa-sama and Otou-sama are also doing all they can to make Lee feel welcome.

The weekend of her birthday isn’t like any birthdays she’s had before in this life.

For all that she grew up in Konoha, she never had any friends before Naruto. Running laps was a much more productive use of her time, even if her mother worried about her being lonely.

A quiet dinner in with her new parents was enough for her.

Naruto missed her sixth birthday because he had to spend the weekend with the Hokage, then insisted on trying to draw Luffy for her from the stories she’s told him as a late birthday present.

It’s not a very accurate drawing—Luffy’s straw hat is upside down and he’s got lasers shooting from his eyes and looks like a distressed noodle overall, but it hangs on her wall all the same.

Naruto has been pulling a vanishing act sporadically throughout the week, which she wasn’t overly concerned about.

She knows about birthday preparations, and if he wants it to be a surprise, she’ll humor him.

Though she did stumble upon a scene where Lee was on one knee in front of Sakura, while Naruto prepared to hit him with a bag of mulch from behind.

All three froze when they realized she was there, stammered out something incomprehensible, and fled like startled mice.

She has no idea what was going on there, but she’d pay good money to find out.

Or at least cook a good meal, because all her ingredient purchases leave her perpetually broke.

Naruto isn’t in his apartment the morning of her birthday.

She gets past all of his traps only to knock on the door and hear no answer. The neighbors yell at her when her repeated hammering on the entrance gets too loud.

Lee isn’t with Gai-sensei when she finally arrives to training. He pointedly ignores all her questions about where the other two are, but teaches her the kata for a dropkick in exchange.

It’s difficult, but the grin she gets when her heel hits the ground and leaves a dent is blinding.

He walks her home too.

That’s when she realizes this was planned.

Sure enough, the curtains on the windows are drawn, and Gai-sensei is a little eager to go ahead of her into the house.

The lights coming on are blinding, and the yell of “HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAYU!!” should not be as loud as it is considering there are only five people in the room.

She’s sweaty and worn out and for some reason she can’t stop smiling so hard her cheeks hurt.

Lee and Gai-sensei present her with a set of weights and a few pairs of orange leg warmers to cover them, like the ones they wear on a daily basis. She grins and thinks it might be nice to wear something that reminds her of the two of them and Naruto, who has insisted on getting mainly orange clothing since Okaa-sama once told him he had the coloring for it.

Okaa-sama and Otou-sama give her a book on baking bread that’s about as heavy as the weights and several bags of different types of flour. She hugs them as tightly as she can. There’s wheat and rye and multigrain and gluten-free and she can’t wait to see what she can create with all of this.

Naruto fidgets and shoves a small pot with a rosemary plant in it into her arms. “Ino let me have this if I helped out at the Yamanaka flower shop with her and Sakura-chan, believe it, and she said it tastes really good in food and its name is Habu-san because plants are living things, so they should have names like people and animals do, right?”

She inhales the slightly salty scent.

Later, after she’s finally had a shower and gotten dressed with the addition of the leg warmers, Sakura and Ino will drop by with a set of sparkly silver hair clips and a chef’s hat keychain.

They’ll all go to a restaurant owned by Chouji’s family to eat, and she’ll devour one of the best plates of chicken katsu, intent on figuring out the recipe through taste alone. She’ll share a chocolate cake with Chouji and Naruto, laughing as the latter pouts when describing Lee’s declaration to woo Sakura when he becomes a worthy ninja.

But for now, she just beams at her best friend and tells him, “I really love Habu-san. Thank you so much for giving this to me, Naruto.”

They return to the Academy.

Lee walks with them there, and they wave to each other as they go to their respective classrooms.

Kiba runs up to them within seconds of arriving in their new classroom, a beam on his face so bright it could outshine the sun itself.

“Igotmyninkenpartner!!!” He bursts out, practically vibrating with happiness.

She blinks. Looks at Naruto, who shrugs. Looks back at Kiba. “Beg your pardon?”

He groans, cuddling a bundle close to his chest. As she’s looking down at it, it squirms.

“I. Got. My. Ninken. Partner.” He repeats, with exaggerated slowness. “It’s a huge thing for the Inuzuka! We get chosen by a ninken, and they can understand human speech and learn cool ninja moves with us, so when we grow up we’ll be twice as awesome as any other ninja!!”

“What’s a ninken?” Naruto asks as the bundle squirms again—

And a puppy pops out.

“Meet Akamaru!” Kiba says proudly. Akamaru is white with floppy brown ears and big dark eyes and—

“Akamaru.” She says seriously. “You are a very good boy.”

The puppy yips in response and she could die right then and there from happiness.

This year they’re actually moving into the ninja portion of Academy learning.

The new teacher is a white haired man and he has them sit criss-crossed on the floor.

“Chakra is a force found in all living beings, a combination of their spiritual and physical energy, or yin and yang. It is a ninja’s greatest tool, the source of genjutsu and ninjutsu.” He drones on.

Does it run on midochlorians too? A voice in her head that sounds like her past brother’s mocks.

It just all sounds so inaccurate, like a bunch of different ideas mashed together to seem cool.

At least Devil Fruits were somewhat understandable. Eat a weird fruit, it messes with your genetics, you get powers. Much more plausible.

She pokes Naruto awake again and the teacher glares at them. “Today we’ll focus on basic chakra awareness. I want you to meditate and locate your chakra center.”

The classmates around her close their eyes. After an especially sharp glare, she does so too.

It’s warm in the classroom.

It’s noisy outside, and she can feel Naruto’s knee press into her leg.

She focuses on her breathing. It’s almost peaceful, retreating inside herself like this—

There’s something inside her.

It wasn’t there before.

It doesn’t belong in her.

She thinks it doesn’t like that she’s found it.

It’s like forcibly being made aware of blood circulating through your body. Not simply your heart beating, but the friction as the liquid scrapes through your veins, the pain as the breakneck current is divided and divided again, until dead ends send the liquid flying back to where it came from at the same terrifying speed.

“What the shit?!” She gasps out, eyes flying open.

Then she hears what she just said and claps her hands over her mouth as the children around her break into surprised titters.

The teacher glowers. “Ketsugi, go stand in the hall.”

[atopearth]

Liar! Uncover the Truth Part 5 - Scheming Socialites Spin-Off

I guess the ritual is that the story always starts off with a cheating boyfriend lol! Heroine in this one and I guess the rest of her friends are all rich though. Rich people problems now? Well, that was creative… Using a planner to keep track of when he’s meeting what girls and then him actually having a twin to swap places with all the time on dates etc, and they’re using the heroine as the mould for an android girl they want to build? Yep, she sure found a wonderful cheating boyfriend. And so for the sake of the future of her family company, she’s gotta marry a rich guy they can do business with and her time limit is by graduation to find one that’s suitable for her, otherwise she’ll have to marry this cheating boyfriend that has a twin, I can feel how desperate she must be feeling already…

1st Liar HAHAHA, what is a professional virgin??? Textbook knowledge with no experience I guess?? Maan, they stole her bra? There’s an underwear thief going around? Yeah… That’s not fun. Btw, I dislike the heroine’s hair being down in the accusation portions, it doesn’t look nice… I’m sure they could have kept her bun hair and still make it look nice from the side somehow…😣 It makes her look so plain too :( LOL Hayato is such a pervert to steal her bra and bury his face in it just so he can visualise her breasts😥 Although, I have to say, I feel like it was unnecessary to put that virgin part in this liar bit, the story makes it seem like all virgins are like this and would do something like this and it makes it sound like such a bad thing to be a virgin, which is pretty slack tbh, especially since the main problem is that he’s a pervert lol. And nope, don’t feel sorry for him nor will I understand him in any way.

2nd Liar Damn, how awkward would it be to go to a mixer and meet your ex there lol, and regardless it sounds like a shitfest since the other girls are like your best friends so whoever goes for the ex is not gonna be in for a good relationship lol. Anyway, Nagi seems like a nice guy, lolll when he joked to the heroine to feed him. Hahahaha the king game is the best, it’s a common game you see in Japanese media where everyone has a numbered stick except one person who has the king stick and they can order whatever number to do something to another number or to the king e.g. when the heroine asked Shunya (number whatever) to flick the forehead of Anko (number whatever). You don’t know who is what number so it can be pretty romantic or cute, or funny such as when Koh (Yu) asked number two to kiss him on the cheek (since he’s king) thinking that it’s one of the girls but it’s actually Shunya hahaha.

Omggg when Shunya said ‘I love you’ to the heroine as part of the game but then privately messages her and says that he was serious when he said that, and then even looks away blushing after she looks at him once she’s read it. Such a flirt lol. I was wondering what the problem would be this time around, guess there’s someone in the group that likes to upload videos, and they uploaded the whole mixer party online and even had shots of the heroine’s panties when she stumbled because she was a bit drunk🤨 This person is very…🤨 But lol, oh yeah, Shunya was the one that always knows what’s on the tests, yeah I remember thinking he was dodgy for sure because of that, didn’t think he would hack the security camera to get this footage to upload though lol. And his “reasons” for starting to do all this was silly zzz.

3rd Liar Hmmmm, so this one is kinda about which rumour about which person is actually true? Not really buying the one about the gay guy, but I’m pretty sceptical about Akari after she gave the heroine the wrong time for the shoot and took her spot, it was the heroine’s fault for not having her planner and not knowing the time but stilllll, she does seem to hang with guys a lot and act suspiciously. Sounds like a long stretch for Mio to be having an affair, seems more like she’s buying stuff for her dad that she doesn’t see much or something.

Yay I’m right! Like, seriously, who bothers to type 15:00, totally a liar, totally meant the 5:00 so that the heroine would be late. But wow, she’s been stealing boyfriends, stealing jobs and sleeping with all these guys in the entertainment circle making it seem as if she’s their girlfriend but she’s really not😶 and now it’s biting back at her because the guys she’s been playing with are friends that regularly hang out together! This is why you shouldn’t play around with guys so close to you and could be friends lol. I guess reading the True end is better than the secret end for SS?🤔 Akari sleeps with so many men because she seeks the validation she can’t get from her father from them since her dad will never praise her and will always disapprove of her modelling and her appearance when she should be working hard like her capable brother that’s in the police force, but really, even though she works hard, her dad doesn’t see it or really care, so it’s pretty saddening. Doesn’t give her the right to play with the guys like she’s serious though, she should be open with the fact that she’s playing lol. Anywho, her problem, her life, still despicable to steal jobs, especially from friends, like wth, don’t buy or care about her story.

4th Liar Lol at the heroine meeting all the guys coincidentally and they’re all interning at Media Act (the setting in Office Deception). Right now tbh, Shotaro and Kaname are pretty unappealing so I don’t really have anything to say about them. Nagi seems cool but that’s all too. Tbh, I’m kinda hoping all the guys are a dud, she gets a best friend at the end and then marries her butler Haru🤣 I feel like he’s the only one she has a genuine bond with, the rest are so superficial lol. Hmmmm maybe Haru is secretly a rich boy! That would be nice, they were so cute eating the birthday cake together and talking about her internship. She needs to dump all those other guys and get with himmmm!

How scary for the heroine though. Accidentally stumbling upon illegal deals for guns at a party that you thought was just some fun😶 I find it so hard to take any of the guys seriously when they just all randomly confess like that though lol. Anddd it’s Kaname! Tbh, I don’t remember anything about this guy besides him being in the same club as the heroine lol. His True End on how he initially traded things his explorer brother brought back and then it becoming a big thing with him eventually going deeper and holding parties and then letting them get out of control because he thinks he’s “helping people out” by doing these people favours for them to trade there. Yeah, no. I have no idea how the son of a top attorney could be so silly and think so naively when it comes to illegal stuff that probably ends up killing people. It’s ridiculous. Outrageous. No sympathy, do not care, would call police on their parties but too scared that I’d get killed lmao.

5th Liar Hmmmm I think that a big problem that I have with this story is that for each liar, I don’t really know what the story is going along to and what is the problem with the “liar” until like the last two chapters before the accusation part where the heroine suddenly finds out some random problem, and right when she discovers the problem, she discovers the culprit too! It’s just so…bad in terms of how the story flows imo. Anyway, the story isn’t particularly interesting either too, since as usual, another guy confesses, she travels around Kyoto and then they realise someone has been posting her photos and details of her and her trip on a blog as if it’s her blogging.

After looking at the blog posts, it’s obvious that it’s Senri, he’s the only one that knows that the handkerchief is a Chinese peony specifically and not a tree peony. Sigh, I liked him the most out of the three personally. Well, Anko is cute I guess lol, but sigh, Senri, why are you a disappointment? Yeah that was creepy, Senri, your true ending just made me even more uhhh wth lol. I thought these true endings were supposed to make me sympathise with them but it just makes me even more disgusted with them lol. So creepy of of him to make a blog about her and all the things she does “out of love”, like dude, that ain’t love, you’re just obsessed and infatuated with her, you don’t even know her, you haven’t even talked to her since she was 8 like whaaaat. Not gonna feel sorry for you even if you cry, Senri. Totally disappointed in him. Anyway, at this rate, I don’t like any of the guys so I hope one of the girls is the one lol.

6th Liar Toru and Azusa are brothers?? Well, he sounds dodgy already. Uhhh Nagi knew that the water bottle had lotion without opening it? Can all the good looking ones stop disappointing meeeee!? I don’t like Sosuke or Shotaro either but I thought Nagi looked pretty good, sighhhhh. Why be a kinky fetishist and kidnap the heroine for, sighhhhh. Lol, I honestly feel like these stories and reasons are getting even more shallow as the story goes on, it’s just so…basic? Like, Nagi just found out he’s a masochist when his girlfriend slapped him when she wanted to break up, and then now he’s like this, it’s like uhh okay? What did the heroine do to make him so into her? Okaaay. Well, I guess it’s good that the heroine is open to reporter jobs as well, wasn’t sure why she was so keen on the magazine editor job specifically when her reasons for wanting it weren’t something only that job provided, but whatever.

7th Liar Right now, I don’t think I’ll be surprised at whoever is the traitor friend. I feel like it’s Anko just because she feels so fake? She’s way too sweet and nice that it’s impossible for her to be real! Mio’s cool so I want her to be the best friend🤣 Honestly not sure how safe it is for the heroine and them to pick mushrooms in the forest when they’re complete newbies relying on the web to see if these mushrooms are edible or not like hmmmm… That doesn’t sound very safe at all!

Hahahah, I’m sorry Anko, you were the genuine good friend LOL. I’m pretty sure Mio cut her finger on purpose just to interrupt the heroine’s conversation with Shotaro. Aaaand she did, no idea why Mio is like this but geez~ Lol, awesome, she loves the heroine and is obsessed with her to the point that she is willing to die together with her, yay, what a wonderful best friend. I don’t get why if the one she likes is the heroine, why would she get the heroine lost in the mountains by herself in the snow and force her to take cover in a cave???? Like, what if she slipped or got so lost she couldn’t find it and died? I am so confused and weirded out. As expected, Mio is so obsessed with her because she was the first person she met that didn’t act fake and genuinely wanted to be friends with her and liked hanging with her, she’s still weirdly obsessed for no reason though.

8th Liar Rental boyfriend?! Aren’t they all rich?? Why do they need to be a rental boyfriend??? I guess they might be disowned or something? Shotaro seems so suspicious though lol, with all the women’s clothing, earrings and credit card bills etc in his “house”, hard to not doubt him tbh. Although Sosuke with two toothbrushes in one cup is kinda hmmmm… I feel like it has to be Sosuke, he probably bought all that food he said he cooked (like why was it so expensive when she paid for half?!), and having perfume and toothbrushes just seems way too dodgy. Well, my gut feeling was right even if my reasons to choose him were not hahaha! So, he’s poor and ridden with debt from his father, and his mother got sick from raising him and his siblings, so even though her condition is better now, he hopes to get a good job or marry into money so his family won’t need to suffer anymore. That’s logical. I don’t blame Sosuke for trying to lie his way through to get the heroine for that reason, doesn’t change the fact that it’s something he shouldn’t have done since he’s blatantly lying to get her money, but it just shows how desperate he is I guess, considering how tough it must be to take care of siblings, work and feed everyone :( But yeah, anyway, still don’t like Shotaro and still think he’s dodgy and hope he is, so that the heroine can go with Haruki!🤣

9th Liar Uh, what? The heroine is going to be betrayed by someone she trusts and even though there should only be two liars left to pick from, they decided to add another two, with one being Haruki? Zzzz. I don’t know but I don’t like this format, it’s like suddenly introducing another two characters that I should be suddenly considering as a part of the liar story. It’s like dude, I barely remember this Professor Mori, why is she suddenly a liar candidate, at this point in the story, I’m not gonna feel anything even if she betrays the heroine😪 Only Haru is the one that consistently appears enough in the background for you to care if he actually betrays the heroine tbh, just because I feel like Shotaro and Anko are such superficial characters that lack personality, and I much prefer and enjoy the little things the heroine and Haru share every now and then with them talking so unreservedly with each other etc.

Well, considering the suspicious calls Haruki has made throughout the story and the only one you’d care about betraying the heroine at this point, it’s most likely him. I really want it to be Shotaro, but if we take the fortune teller guy’s words to be the truth with Anko being her best friend and Shotaro being the guy she’s destined with, then really it only leaves Haru and the professor. And yeah, the professor is such a side character that I doubt it’s her. Sigh, Haru, it’s like one disappointment after another for me throughout this story lol. Reading the true ending for Haru was tough, he’s had a pretty unfortunate childhood. He initially had a nice family with a younger sister and they all loved his piano playing, but then his parents passed away, he got shafted to relatives that used his piano skills to earn money, his sister fell ill and passed away too, and then he somehow got picked up by the heroine’s dad to take care of the heroine, and by staying beside her, he got to experience all those emotions he had lost. So it’s pretty saddening that they made him one of the “liars”.

I’m quite dissatisfied with Scheming Socialites tbh, the story, the reasons for lying, the personalities for the characters, everything felt rather forced and done in quite a mundane way. Also doesn’t help that Shotaro has such a cookie cutter personality that they try to make redeeming in the end by having the same interest as the heroine, but really, it’s so superficial. I honestly only really liked Liar Uncover the Truth. Office Deception and Scheming Socialites just didn’t have the same spark and didn’t have particularly interesting liars, and their reasons were so uncreative compared to the first, oh and I totally didn’t care for them at all, at least for the first series, I felt some sort of emotions towards each liar but for the latter series, I just seriously couldn’t care for them and just felt that they were ridiculous instead. I’m not even mad at any of the liars because I feel nothing for them, yeah it’s that terrible lol. So yeah, I would only recommend playing the first series and Itaru’s Lovers Route to feel complete haha.

[sizzleitupwithmaria]

here you go @baura-bear (i’ve also definitely done these before but i know i’ve changed so)

1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans?

i’m kind of a hoarder so all of them?? but mostly mugs and water bottles

2. chocolate bars or lollipops?

CHOCOLATE

3. bubblegum or cotton candy

cotton candy slaps

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

very shy but a good learner

5. do you prefer to drink soda from cans, bottles, plastic cups or glass cups?

soda sounds really unappealing right now so none?

6. pastel, boho, tomboys, preppy, goth, grunge, formal, or sportswear?

a combo of boho tomboy and grunge

7. earbuds or headphones?

earbuds

8. movies or tv shows?

i don’t have the patience for either, podcasts are superior

9. favorite smell in the summer?

i walked by this couple yesterday who had ice cream and just... the smell of sugared cream and waffle cones.... delicious

10. game you were best at in pe?

volleyball maybe, but i still wasn’t good at that

11. what do you have for breakfast on an average day?

a granola bar, which sucks bc my first period is choir this year so i won’t be able to eat first period!!

12. name of your favorite playlist?

“oh boy i’m pining for someone”

13. lanyard or keyring?

my keychain is so heavy that wearing a lanyard would slowly break my neck

14. favorite non-chocolate candy?

GUMMI BEARS!!!!!!!

15. favorite book you’ve read as a school assignment?

either romeo and juliet, to kill a mockingbird, or and then there were none

16. most comfortable position to sit in

i like legs crossed but i also like just the ideal Leg Bounce position

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes?

my grey converse high tops

18. ideal weather?

like... 60 degrees and mildly cloudy

19. sleeping position?

on my side or occasionally on my stomach

20. preferred place to write?

in a notebook, writing on my laptop gets old after a while

21. obsession from childhood?

MAGIC TREE HOUSE or dolls in general

22. role model?

eva fucking noblezada

23. strange habits?

i like to shake my foot when i see something i like (is this stimming? probably and i kind of like it)

24. favorite crystal

emerald but just bc it’s my birthstone

25. first song you remember hearing?

probably something off of rumors by fleetwood mac

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?

i hate warm weather but i like shopping

27. favorite activity to do in cold weather

go to school?? i kind of feel like my outfits are the coolest in winter and that gets me a lot of compliments

28. five songs that describe you?

just pick five random queen songs and it’ll probably be pretty accurate

29. best way to bond with you?

literally just talk to me. i can ramble for hours about shit you probably don’t care about

30. places that you find sacred?

my bedroom and the two giant woods in my hometown 

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?

basically just blue jeans a flannel and a black tank top. not very cool but i feel nice in it

32. top five favorite vines

all i can think of rn is i’m gonna munch i’m gonna crunch so there’s that (stream revolution lover)

33. most used phrase in your phone?

fdhslfhdjslkfdk or any other keyspam

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?

i have adblock lmao

35. average time you fall asleep

like 12:30 now that it’s summer

36. what is the first meme you remember seeing?

ehrmagerd or however you spell it

37. suitcase or duffel bag?

duffel bag 

38. lemonade or tea

both, including when they’re combined (arnold palmers slap)

39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie?

cake

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school

high school: this past year’s senior prank which did give me a mental breakdown but it was kind of hilarious 

middle school: The Smell

41. last person you texted?

my dad

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?

pants, i always feel like shit will fall out of my jacket pockets

43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket, or bomber jacket?

hoodie and cardigan, Maximum Coze

44. favorite soap scent?

i kind of like dessert scents

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy, or superhero?

none of them??

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?

my fav flannel which is very soft and underwear

47. favorite type of cheese?

the one that comes on pizza

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?

....... a watermelon? i look pretty appealing from the outside but i’m actually 92% water

49. what saying or quote do you live by?

andre deshields’ three rules to longevity from the tonys :,)

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?

i can’t remember but i’ve definitely peed myself laughing in like... elementary school

51. current stresses?

“am i waiting too long to snap back my crush” and “OH SHIT I HAVEN’T STARTED ANY OF MY ESSAYS”

52. favorite font?

helvetica or comic sans if i’m in the mood

53. what is the current state of your hands?

i last washed them like 30 mins ago, my left hand’s nails are painted black, and my right pointer finger is bleeding

54. what did you learn from your first job?

i haven’t had one yet lol

55. favorite fairy tale?

i have no idea

56. favorite tradition?

i don’t really have any noteworthy ones

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome?

That Time In October 2017, The Week Of May 6 2019, and The Week Of Mamma Mia Auditions And The Week After (those are the official titles in my brain lmao)

58. four talents you’re proud of having?

i have a good fashion sense, people tend to like my art?? i’m good in a choir?? and i guess i’m a bit naturally smart

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

something like “i’m gay”

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?

some combination of yuri on ice and ouran high school host club

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc?

i particularly like that one dude in hp and the sorcerer’s stone that was described as a toothless walnut

62. seven characters you relate to?

uhh my mind is really drawing a blank rn

63. five songs that would play in your club?

like... a combination of 70′s queen, cousin simple, and memes that’ll make people go buckwild

64. favorite website from your childhoos?

girlsgogames

65. any permanent scars?

(small tw) i have a scar on my left middle finger from when i tried to change razor blades and i just noticed today i have one single self harm scar left on my left leg and nnnnnnnhhhhhhh

66. favorite flowers?

roses and ik ferns don’t count but ferns are v pretty

67. good luck charms?

i have the shittiest luck lmao

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

i’m infamous for never trying new foods

69. a fun fact you don’t know how you learned?

idk, pretty much every fun fact ever?

70. left or right handed?

right

71. least favorite pattern?

like.... stripes of any kind make me look fatter than i am

72. worst subject

physical science, but it’s all bc of my shitty teacher

73. favorite weird flavor combo?

uhhhh fries and a wendy’s frosty?? or sometimes i squeeze a lemon into my coke

74. at what pain level out of ten do you have to be at before you take a pill?

hahahahahahaha i can’t swallow pills so i suffer

75. when did you lose your first tooth

i have no fuckin clue

76. what’s your favorite potato food?

fries!!!!! good!!

77. best plant to grow on a windowsill?

ferns or cacti

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?

neither?

79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo?

my school id but only bc i don’t have a license yet lmao

80. earth or jewel tones?

earth

81. fireflies or lightning bugs?

fireflies

82. pc or console?

pc?? although all i play on is my laptop which isn’t technically a pc

83. writing or drawing?

neither rn, i’m feeling uninspired

84. podcasts or talk radio?

P O D C A S T S 

85. barbie or polly pocket?

neither, i was a liv doll kid

86. fairy tales or mythology?

mythology but i can also dig some like... brothers grimm shit

87. cookies or cupcakes?

both but it depends on my mood (i could really go for a cookie rn)

88. your greatest fear?

experiencing eternal blackness after death

89. your greatest wish?

move into an apartment with my soulmate and act for a living

90. who would you put before everyone else?

nobody really rn

91. luckiest mistake?

coming out to my parents maybe? although it wasn’t a mistake, i would defo be in a bad place if i was closested at home

92. boxes or bags?

i have no clue

93. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight, or fairy lights?

fairy lights!!

94. nicknames?

none but if any future partners can come up with one for me i will marry them instantly

95. favorite season?

fall or spring

96. favorite app on your phone?

instagram or tik tok (KILL ME)

97. desktop background?

a nice landscape one of my fav artists painted

98. how many phone numbers have you memorized?

just my own lmao

99. favorite historical era?

60′s/70′s (i hate to be that bitch but that’s when music was at its peak)

[artificialqueens]

Twist Of Fate - Ch05 - (Trixya) - katyahzamo

A/N: Fake instagrams for Trixie and Katya were made because I am that extra: click here for Trixie and here for Katya.

A reminder: Trixie is a hairdresser and Katya is a struggling photographer slash yoga instructor. Lesbian AU. Read the chapters on AO3 and/or come hang out on my tumblr katyahzamo. Comments are welcome and encouraged!

“I didn’t see you like this in a long time. Are you sure that last cup of coffee wasn’t too much for your skinny ass?”

Violet is sitting on Katya’s old couch, legs tucked under her elbow propped on the back, watching Katya come out with the fourth outfit that evening. It’s almost time to leave for the event and she has nothing to wear.

“Oh shut up. How long did it take you to look like that before you came over?”

Katya’s best friend is sitting there looking like a goddess, as always. Even in long, loose black pants her legs look amazing, and the emerald corset clings perfectly to her thin torso. With her hair pulled back in a ponytail, she looks effortlessly beautiful, and Katya doesn’t know whether she wants to bang her or envy her. Maybe a little bit of both.

“I literally just put on the first thing I found. But no, I’m serious bitch, since when are you obsessing over the color of your dress?” There’s a gasp then, making Katya turn away from staring herself in the mirror and back at Violet.

“Wait– do you have a date? Did Katya Zamo finally meet someone? You never go to these things. Is a girl making you go?”

Typical Violetta. She’s been set on finding Katya a girlfriend ever since they stopped dating each other in college, and at the same time discovering no one Katya dated was good enough for her. Violet was four years younger and they met in one of Katya’s art classes, hitting it off immediately. Their relationship was short, mostly sexual, and it ended up evolving into a friendship based on mutual understanding and never-ending support.

Violet believed in Katya when she went to rehab for her alcohol addiction post-college, believed in her when she had one dead-end, low-paying job after another, supported her when she finally bought her first professional camera and insisted Katya take all of her pro shots, despite photographers lining up to work with her. She was the first one who told her Sharon was a piece of shit who did not treat Katya right, and the first one who came running in the middle of the night when Katya called her after Sharon packed her bags and left.

Despite being hot-headed, arrogant and a bit of a narcissist, all qualities many people find off-putting, Katya loves her very much and knows her big ass heart is in the right place. Even though she’s not in town five months out of the year, she’s been Katya’s rock throughout the last year of her and Sharon’s relationship, and after it ended, too, even more so than Ginger.

“Fuck off, I don’t have a date. I just—I don’t know. I miss being around people and loud music. I miss going out with you, bitch, even though you always leave me for a threesome whenever we do.”

Katya wishes she had a date with her hot hairdresser, but wouldn’t say that out loud, for fear of having Violet on her case about it for the rest of the night. She’s already had issues not blushing when she told her that Trixie’s back and is the main reason her hair and bangs are short again.

Violet’s face falls in disappointment at the answer but takes a sip of her mojito and shrugs, not looking sorry at all.

“Girl’s gotta do what she’s gotta do. There’s going to be a lot of agency girls you know tonight, Fame, Shea, Naomi. They’re all coming to see Pearl’s set. She’s like this, huge DJ from the West Coast. I heard she even toured around Europe and Australia. The lesbians go insane wherever she goes.”

Katya laughs, discards another black dress and fixes her hair instead. She’s been walking around the apartment in her underwear for an hour and a half now, ever since she got out of the shower and blow dried her bob straight.

“You know lesbians love hot DJs, Vi. Didn’t you date one last year?”

“Yeah, I still have fond memories of her ass when I get lonely.”

Katya wheezes and smacks Violet’s knee as she passes by her and disappears into the bedroom again.

“Wait, I know!”

She hears Violet yell after her and hears her shuffling as she gets off of the couch and walks into the bedroom, pushing Katya a little bit to the side to take a look at her messy closet.

“Oh god.” Katya laughs, but lets Violet dig through her clothes and sits on the bed instead, watching her. It doesn’t take long for her to find what she was looking for, and soon enough she’s holding a lace bralette Katya hasn’t worn in years and a pair of black shorts to match – she is fairly sure Violet was the one who bought this for her birthday ages ago.

“Here, put that on. Do you still have those red shoes? You should get them and— this.” She pulls out a black lace see-through button up and puts it on the bed gingerly, grinning.

“You’re going to look smoking hot in that. Now hurry up, we’re going to be late for Pearl.”

.

.

.

The line outside of the club is huge – it stretches out for an entire block and Katya thinks that lesbians (and gay men, and everyone in between) are going insane over this Pearl girl. She’s curious to see her now and to hear her set, and at the same time nervous because Trixie is going to be there. When Violet went to the bathroom to touch up her makeup while still in her apartment, Katya spent five minutes staring at her own abs from all angles, exposed through the see-through shirt. She thanked yoga for keeping her in shape, and was actually a little impressed at how long her legs looked in the outfit Violet chose.

Once they parked the car and headed for the entrance, Violet saying they would let her in once they recognized her, Katya’s phone buzzed and she dug it up from the little purse Violet made her carry with her.

Unknown: Hey Katya, it’s Trixie :D

Unknown: We’re already inside, table reserved close to the bar

Unknown: Bob put you and Violet on the list so just tell the bouncers

Unknown: See you soon!

The message is followed by a string of flower emojis and Katya showed the message to Violet, who grinned.

“Bob coming through as usual, I love that guy.”

Katya is too excited to tell her that it was probably Trixie who insisted they were put on the guest list, and says nothing until after they are let through.

“Violet! Katya! Finally!”

Pairs of hands grab each of them by the wrist in the dimly lit room, purple lights flashing to the rhythm of the music Katya has never heard before, and it takes her eyes a moment or two to adjust. She really should have just gone with glasses instead of her contacts, but Violet insisted. Katya is sure that her friend wants her to get laid tonight.

Two pairs of hands that stopped them belonged to Shea and Courtney, both from Violet’s modeling agency, both tall and gorgeous, and Katya is suddenly glad she dressed the way she did. They take turns in hugging both of them; complimenting Katya’s hair, Violet’s outfit and telling them they arrived just in time for the party.

“We were late because Katya took forever to decide on an outfit, so I ended up doing it for her.”

“Girl, you did an amazing job. Katya, you look stunning!”

She doesn’t remember Courtney having an Australian accent, mostly because they met only once, briefly, when Katya did a job with Violet and Fame several weeks before. She remembers Shea better, because Shea insisted on Katya joining them for lunch, saying she reminded her of her Russian girlfriend, Sasha, who was on a world tour traveling with her theatre troupe. Shea is the one complimenting her now, leaning back a little to take a good look at her outfit.

“Court’s right, you’re definitely giving me a Black Widow spy realness here. You should be in the photos with us next time.”

Katya’s laughing and waving her hands in protest.

“Hell no, I’m the one making art happen and I’d like it to stay that way, thank you very much.”

“I’m not sure about that, I bet you’d be a great model.”

“In Russia, maybe.”

“Well you know, you gotta start somewhere.”

They’re all laughing and for a moment Kaya forgets that she’s supposed to be nervous about Trixie. It doesn’t take them long to reach the bar and order drinks, cocktails for the three of them and a soda for Katya.

“Vi? I’m going to find Trixie and her friends, thank her for letting us know about the list. You coming?”

“I’ll come by later. Pearl’s set is starting soon and I really want to see her up close. If you know what I mean.”

Katya wheeze laughs, and Shea and Courtney join her too. Violet is known among her friends for having a thing for DJs and musicians in general, so having her at least flirt with Pearl sometime during the night would hardly come as a surprise to anyone.

“You can try, girl, but I hear she has a girlfriend she met on the road this year. Apparently they’ve been together since January.”

“Shea, since when has that stopped her from getting laid?”

Katya can hear them bantering about Violet’s sexscapades even after she walks away, making her way through the crowd, looking for one particular blonde head, her drink gripped firmly in her hand. She sees her before Trixie even looks her way, and reluctantly has to acknowledge the butterflies acting up in her gut again. Sweat is already forming on the back of her neck and she’s blowing the bangs from her eyes, praying that she still looks semi-decent, despite the stuffy air and nerves.

“Katya!” Their eyes meet just when the host walks on stage to announce Pearl, and Katya knows she has a very small window for conversation before the place erupts. “You made it!”

“Yeah, I tried! How are you?”

“I’m great, yeah. Katya, these are my friends, Shangela and you know Adore, right?”

Adore, yes, that’s the name of the girl who took the photo of her haircut back at the salon the week before.

“Hey girl, looking fine!” Adore yells over the host’s voice when she pulls Katya into a hug, which surprises her a little but she hugs back all the same. She looks young, younger than Trixie, and gives off a grunge vibe that Katya approves of immediately. Her voice is slightly drawn out; just as she remembers from the first time she met her.

“You too!” Katya says, aware that Trixie’s eyes are on her.

“Oh you’re the Atomic Bland girl they put up on Facebook, right?” Shangela hugs her next and Katya reciprocates. She is a tiny, compact woman with a blindingly beautiful smile and hair that reaches past her waist. Even in heels, she is smaller than Katya, but her energy definitely makes up for her height.

“Is everyone calling me that now?” Katya asks, eyes wide and grin wider, glancing over at Trixie.

“Hey, you came up with that yourself. I’m giving your brand the recognition it deserves.” Trixie shoots back, and Katya isn’t nervous anymore. This feels right, and easy, and she has not been this relaxed in a public setting in a painfully long time.

Any other attempt at communication is drowned by the crowd once Pearl walks on stage, and the club explodes with girls (and boys) everywhere shouting her name and whistling, making Katya wonder how on earth she never heard about her before. Not that she was necessarily immersed into the pop culture that much, not even the LGBTQ+ one, sticking to the 70s, 80s and early 90s obscure music, but every single person in this place seemed to know exactly who Pearl Liaison was, making Katya, once again, feel like a grandmother. As soon as the music starts playing, everyone rushes to the dancefloor, and judging by the genre, it’s easier to pinpoint why she didn’t know about her in the first place.

She left her tolerance for electronic music go when she graduated college and stopped drinking, but even she has to admit that Pearl is good. She commands the room so easily, and the way she holds herself reminds of days when Violet preformed burlesque, full of confidence and full of love for her audience. It helps that she is hot as hell, too, platinum blonde hair tied up into two buns on top of her head and makeup so good even under the harsh clubbing lights. It’s no wonder whatsoever why she’s so loved by every single girl in this place.

“Holy shit she’s good!” Katya yells over the music, leaning over to Trixie and Trixie nods, sipping on her vodka soda (or so Katya assumes), her hips swaying to the music a little bit.

“Girl, I wanna dance!” Adore yells from the other side of the table and Shangela agrees, taking her hand and pulling her into the crowd that’s somehow even bigger than it was five minutes ago. Katya wants to ask Trixie to dance too, but she is somehow still unsure how Trixie will react if she suggests it.

“Do you want to dance?” Trixie seems to be reading her mind again, and a slight shiver goes down her spine when she feels those pink lips so close to her ear, and Katya’s nodding without a second thought. They leave all of their things with the bartender that Trixie seems to know (who does Trixie not know, Katya wonders) and head to find either Adore and Shangela or Violet and the rest of her gang, Katya’s goosebumps permanent  when Trixie takes her hand and tugs her along.

They don’t find any of their friends and after a while they stop looking. This close to the stage Katya can barely hear herself think, which might be a good thing after all, seeing Trixie’s cleavage up close like this, pale, soft flesh glistening with sweat as she dances right across Katya with her eyes closed, feeling the music with her entire body.

Katya dances too, but her eyes don’t leave Trixie’s face looking angelic under the strobe lights that pulse with the music and the bodies moving all around them. She can feel the beat in her ears, her throat and deep behind her ribs, thinking briefly about how good dancing to this music must feel to people who took things stronger than alcohol tonight. It makes her sober ass exhilarated now; though Katya’s sure it’s not just the music making her feel this way.

Trixie’s long, blonde hair is suddenly in her face as she turns her back to her, hips swaying and slightly grinding against Katya’s front, and she has the urge to howl. There’s no reluctance in her fingers that move to grip Trixie’s hips, letting them guide her own steadily, and just when she thinks she might die and ascend to heaven, there’s a voice in her ear, yelling.

“Hey bitches, having fun?”

Trixie pulls away from her immediately, her face beet red from what Katya assumes is the heat, and Violet is grinning that teasing, shit-eating grin Katya recognizes very well.

“Where the hell have you been?” Katya yells back as loud as she can while Violet hugs Trixie, trying to appear fine and not turned on at all, but the look on Violet’s face tells her that she’ll have to go to the washroom and fix her face as soon as possible.

“Up front!” Violet yells back, her glare drilling inside Katya’s head, as if mutely asking what it is she interrupted just now. Katya blinks at her innocently, so she rolls her eyes and continues. “Fame and Naomi were asking for you, do you want to join us?”

Katya is tempted to say no but she doesn’t want to prompt Violet to ask more questions than she undoubtedly will the moment she catches her alone, so she looks at Trixie instead. Trixie is looking at Pearl who just switched the songs and smiled at the crowd, dancing to the beat of her own music, and then looks back at Violet.

“Sure! I have no idea where Adore and Shangela are, I’ll have to find them later!”

“Adore, the blue-haired chick? Yeah, they’re with us, she did Shea’s hair for the photoshoot this week!”

They make their way to the larger group, with a little bit of trouble, when the beat changes to something softer and easier to dance to. Naomi and Fame pull Katya into a hug and are introduced to Trixie. Soon after they are all dancing together, making Katya think how much she missed being surrounded by a lot of girls. A lot of friends, too, just having fun and not thinking about anything past that night. Trixie doesn’t come as close to her for the rest of the set.

At one point during the night and towards the end of Pearl’s set that has lasted more than two hours, half of the group breaks apart to get more drinks and retrieve Trixie’s, Katya’s, Shangela’s and Adore’s things from the bartender and move them to the models’ booth, half remains to hang around on the dancefloor, and Katya goes to pee and fix the makeup that is undoubtedly melting off of her face at this point.

She is aware that everything will hurt from all the dancing in the morning, but her mood has been at the all-time high for hours. She happily recalls a moment when Naomi wrapped her arms around her neck and danced closer to her than even Trixie did, and the way Trixie’s eyes followed their every single move, and the way she quickly looked away when she noticed Katya looking back.

Katya feels like she’s deaf once the ladies’ bathroom door closes behind her, and can feel her own pulse in every inch of her skin. Once in the stall, she hears the door open again and finds herself wishing it’s Trixie.

It’s Violet.

“So when were you gonna tell me you’re in love with Trixie Mattel?”

Here we go.

Violet’s perfectly shaped eyebrow is quirked, arms crossed on her chest as she leans on the bathroom counter, watching Katya wash her hands.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh bitch, you’re telling me that dry humping and eye fucking the entire night was nothing?”

Her words are slurred and Katya realizes that for those two hours she has forgotten that other people drink. Not needing to drink to have fun seemed like a possibility for the first time tonight after years of dreading of going back to places where she’s the only sober one. Trixie has been drinking the entire night too, even stumbled over Katya’s foot as she headed back to the bar.

“We’re just friends, Vi, it’s not that serious.”

“When was the last time you danced like that with me, your best friend?  I call bull. shit.”

Katya laughs at the whining tone and shakes her head, turning to face the other.

“Oh that’s what this is about. You’re jealous.”

She should know better than try to deflect. Violet probably knows her better than Katya knows herself, and is currently having none of it.

“Whatever makes you sleep at night, honey. But I’d say you should definitely go for it. Now give me a hug.”

Katya holds the embrace for couple of moments longer and Violet squeezes her back before heading for one of the stalls.

“Are you okay by yourself in there?” Katya calls when she hears Violet fumbling with her pants on the other side of the door.

“I’m fine! I’ll go backstage to look for Pearl, she’s almost done. You go be with your girlfriend!”

Katya wants to protest but that’s a futile battle with a tipsy, determined Violet, so she just pushes the door and goes to find the rest of the group.

Almost everyone is sitting at the private booth, some of them on their phones, others talking to each other, and Fame is on some boy’s lap, laughing at whatever he’s saying in her ear. It takes her one look to notice that Trixie is not here, or Adore for that matter, so she sits next to Shangela who pushes a new bottle of Coca Cola her way.

“You okay, girl?” Shangela looks up from her phone and at her and Katya nods.

“You?”

“Oh yeah. I’m texting Adore’s girlfriend, Bianca, she’s on her way here to surprise Adore.”

Katya looks around to see that the majority of the crowd has gone back to their seats, only a handful most persistent ones still on the dance floor. DJ Pearl’s spot on the stage is empty now, the music coming from the speakers probably a part of a club’s regular playlist.

“Isn’t she a little late for the party? Where’s Adore anyway?”

She actually wants to ask where Trixie is, but if Violet saw right through her immediately, she doesn’t want one of Trixie’s friends to clock her too.

“Bianca’s a stand-up comedian, traveling around the country a lot this time of year, and Adore had no idea she’s back, she just flew in this evening.  That’s why it took her forever to come here. Adore’s probably outside, smoking. She’s found her weed friends so…”

Shangela motions dragging a smoke from the blunt and Katya laughs, thinking how she could use a cigarette too. She decides to stay to see where Trixie is and get her to go outside with her so they can talk properly.

Trixie doesn’t come back for a while, and Katya uses the time to talk to Shea who comes to sit next to her when Shangela goes to the bar to wait for Bianca. Shea talks to her about her portfolio, Shea’s girlfriend Sasha and her theatre troupe, yoga and everything in between. She has no idea how much time has passed when she sees Violet running in her high heels across the dance floor and hears a group of girls’ delighted screams when they spot Pearl coming from backstage right after Violet.

“That bitch.” Shea shakes her head, looking at Violet’s face when she struggles to pass through a group of Pearl’s fans, her eyes landing on Katya and she darts her way.

“Did you bang her backstage you fucking sl—“ Shea starts but Violet cuts her off with her hand raised as she squeezes into the booth besides Katya, sandwiching her with Shea on the other side.

“You’re never going to believe who Pearl is dating.” She says, but Katya isn’t listening or looking at her.

Katya is looking at Trixie who’s on the dance floor now too, phone in her hand, taking a photo of Pearl and two girls, all three of them raising two of their fingers in a ‘peace’ sign. The girls take the phone from Trixie’s hand and giggle, then walk away, and suddenly Pearl’s in Trixie’s personal space.

Katya doesn’t want to register what Violet is saying as she sees Trixie’s arms wrap around Pearl’s neck, she doesn’t want to acknowledge Trixie’s lop-sided smile or the way Pearl’s arms hug her small waist and pull her close. She feels heart (or is it bile?) rise up her throat when their lips meet and a round of ‘awwwwww’s erupts from the onlookers. She only barely registers Fame who came back and took a spot next to Shea and Katya looks away only when she hears her speak.

“Am I the only one seeing Pearl Liaison kissing Trixie Mattel right now?”

.

.

.

Katya is outside only moments later, and she hears a startled yell from her right, only to realize she’s probably banged the back door open. Outside, away from the music, it must have been loud.

“Katya, you scared the living hell out of me!”

Adore’s bambi eyes are big, and blood shot, but she’s smiling at her anyway and comes over to hug her tightly. Katya hugs her back hesitantly at first, but relaxes a little bit when Adore continues hugging her drunkenly, and for a full minute Katya thinks Adore might have fallen asleep on her shoulder.

“Are you okay?” Katya rasps, surprised she didn’t throw up instead, rubbing Adore’s back gently and trying to blink away the image of Trixie kissing the most beautiful DJ in the world.

“Oh yeah, ‘m fiiiiiiine. A lil’ drunk.” Adore draws out and finally pulls back, the lack of her body heat leaving Katya shudder, and not entirely because of the chilly night air.

“You sure?”

“Mhmm. Just had a smoke with some people and had to stay, fresh air, all that. What about you? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

“I’m okay, I just needed a smoke.”

Her hands are shaking as she lights up the cigarette after Adore refused one for herself, and her breath is shaky as she exhales the smoke, trying to remember any of the breathing exercises her past therapists taught her.

“Is Pearl done?” Adore asks, and Katya feels her stomach drop to her ass at hearing the name.

“Yep, just saw her with Trixie and the fans.”

Adore nods and blinks once, twice, and then her eyes widen in a delayed reaction. If Katya wasn't as pissed, or as miserable, she would have laughed.

“Ohhhhhh, right. You sure you’re okay?”

Several things happen in Katya’s head then. Adore is Trixie’s friend, she realizes, so she probably knew all this time that Trixie had a famous DJ for a girlfriend. It’s probably the reason all of them are here, because she knows Trixie doesn’t listen to electro, and Adore definitely doesn’t look like she listens to anything but Nirvana. They’ve all come here to support Trixie’s girlfriend, and Katya has made an ass out of herself, flirting with Trixie, and holding her hand and dancing close to her to the music Trixie’s girlfriend was playing.

The way Adore looks at her now makes her think that she has somehow clocked her feelings, because if Violet has done it, everyone else must have too, and now Adore feels sorry for her and Katya can’t stand it.

“Yeah, I’m good.” It comes out a bit sharp, and she feels bad about it immediately.

Her hand reaches out to squeeze Adore’s wrist gently, knowing the younger girl will forget all about Katya’s trouble as soon as she sees her girlfriend who’s somewhere inside, waiting to surprise her.

“You know what, Shangela was looking for you by the bar, she says she has something urgent to tell you. I think you should go back inside.”

“Really?”

“Yep. It’s good, I promise.”

Katya manages a grin and even a laugh as Adore hugs her one more time and practically runs inside. She’s a good person, Katya thinks, and good people deserve good things happen to them. What was that bad that she, Katya, put out into the universe for it to treat her this way, she has no idea.

Katya: I’m going home, I’m tired.

Katya: Can you pick up my stuff and bring it over tomorrow?

Violetta: heu btch, f cuorse

Violetta: r u k?

Katya: yeah, just tired. You ok with taking an Uber?

Violetta: ys

Violetta: gna go with Fame n Shea

Violetta: I’m sry

Violetta: fr Trxiie

Katya: Good. Talk to you tomorrow. Text me when you get home

Violetta: u to bitch

Violetta: love yuo

Katya feels like she will definitely throw up once she gets home. She fights to hold it back the entire drive back but once she gets back to her small, shitty apartment, all she can do is take off her boots and put her almost-dead phone to charge. She texts Violet only when she’s in bed, an hour later, having smoked half a packet of cigarettes and still fully clothed, staring at the ceiling and assuming she will never sleep again.

Katya: Got home safely. I love you too.

[whisperoftheheart1995]

An Unexpected Moment- Chapter 1

The first time Peter sees Johnny Storm in person he's so distracted he swings right into a billboard.

In hindsight, he should have known it would be inevitable. New York is big, but it isn't that big. Of course he'd run into the other superhero sooner or later. It was only a matter of time, really.

Or, the Fantastic Four join the MCU and things get gay

(Also posted here)

“The Daily Bugle thinks you stole a baby,” Ned says, staring down at his phone screen.

“What? Why would I even want a baby?”

“So you can ‘brainwash it to follow in your evil footsteps,’” Ned reads off.

Peter hangs down from his spot on the top bunk. “Ugh, let me see that.” The other boy hands him the phone.

Sure enough, Ned is right. The news headline reads SPIDER MENACE KIDNAPS BABY! accompanied by a photo of Spider-Man pulling a baby out of a burning apartment building. A baby that he handed back to its mother a good four seconds later.

“No one actually believes that, do they?”

“It got over 50,000 retweets.”

“This sucks.” He’s only been Spider-Man for about a year but the public has already turned on him. Even the endorsement from Tony Stark didn’t seem to do much to sway opinions, not when The Daily Bugle keeps putting out stories like this one.

“You need to do damage control or something. I mean, look at all the other superhero groups, the Avengers, the Fantastic Four-”

“Never mention them in this house again,” Peter cuts him off. The Fantastic Four had been a sore spot for him since they emerged a few months ago. They came out of nowhere and all of the sudden, everyone was obsessed with them. Worst of all was Johnny Storm, the teenage superhero who became a social media sensation overnight. It just wasn’t fair. No one ever accused him of stealing babies. Peter hated him and his perfect hair.

“I'm just saying, they've got a great web presence. You could learn something from them.”

Peter grumbles. “Whatever. Now are we gonna watch Star Wars or not?”

Peter goes out on patrol after Ned goes home. It’s a quiet night, and he sits on the edge of a roof, scrolling through his Twitter feed. The Daily Bugle article is already up to 200,000 retweets. Peter lets out a heavy sigh and keeps scrolling. A few posts down, he finds a retweeted Buzzfeed article. “18 Times Johnny Storm Stole (Our Hearts)”. He groans out loud, but clicks on the link anyway.

Just then, he hears a scream in the distance. He pulls his mask back on and stands, looking out into the distance.

“Hey, Karen?”

Yes Peter?

“Hit it.”

Super Trooper starts playing as Peter swings past buildings, following the sounds of screams. He comes to a dark alley where a masked man holding a knife has two women backed into a corner.

“Surprise!” he calls out as he webs the knife out of the man’s hand, kicking him backward away from the women.

The song isn’t even over by the time he has the attacker webbed up against the brick wall.

“Oh my god, it’s Spider-Man!” the first woman says excitedly.

“This is so cool!” adds the second and Peter feels himself swell with pride. People still love him. Even if The Daily Bugle is out to get him, he still has people who care.

“Do you know Johnny Storm?” the first woman asks and his heart deflates like a balloon.

He swings off without another word.

Even at school, Peter can't seem to escape the Fantastic Four. It's all anyone talks about as he walks through the halls, trying to finish his already-late physics assignment as he does. Whatever. At least he has lunch to get it done. And maybe Ned will let him copy his.

Ned shuts off his phone the second Peter sets his lunch tray down, acting oddly guilty. Peter squints at him. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing, don’t worry about it.”

Peter stares at him unblinking. “Just show me.”

Ned unlocks his phone and a Buzzfeed interview of Johnny Storm pulls up. He’s surrounded by puppies, laughing as the one perched in his lap tries to lick his cheek. It’s like something out of one of Peter’s fantasies, not that he’d ever admit that out loud. Instead, he groans dramatically.

“Not you too.”

“What? He’s like, really hot.”

“There’s a joke in there somewhere. And what would Abe think?”

Abe, Ned’s sort-of boyfriend of the last few months. “He’d probably agree with me,” Ned replies with a simple shrug. “I mean, he is hot. That’s, like, an irrefutable fact.”

“That’s definitely not true. And are you saying I’m not hot?” Peter puts a hand to his chest in mock offense.

“Don’t make me answer that.”

“I’m getting a new best friend. MJ, interested?” he directs at the girl seated a few chairs down.

“Absolutely not, dipshit,” she says without looking up from her book.

“Okay, I’m gonna pretend that didn’t hurt. But seriously. Johnny Storm ?”

“I don’t understand what your problem with him is.”

“I don’t have a problem with him!” Peter says frantically. “I just don’t think it’s right to use superpowers to get famous. Or to use them to get, like, underwear modeling jobs or whatever.”

“Like anyone would ever ask you to be an underwear model,” MJ deadpans. Ned chokes on his drink.

Peter glares at his so-called friends. “I hate you both.” He lets out a sigh. “Un-pause it.”

“But I thought you-”

“Just do it.”

Ned gives MJ a confused shrug, but does what he asked. On screen, Johnny picks up another puppy and sets it in his lap, stroking it lovingly behind the ears as he answers the interviewer’s next question.

“I want to play with puppies,” Peter grumbles.

“I know you do, Peter,” Ned says, patting him on the back. “I know you do.”

The first time Peter sees Johnny Storm in person he's so distracted he swings right into a billboard.

In hindsight, he should have known it would be inevitable. New York is big, but it isn't that big. Of course he'd run into the other superhero sooner or later. It was only a matter of time, really.

He closes his eyes tight and braces himself for the impact of hard ground beneath him, but it never comes. Instead, he feels a pair of strong arms wrap around him, and he immediately wishes it had been the concrete instead. If it were possible to die of embarrassment, he would have by now.

He opens his eyes hesitantly, greeted by the sight of Johnny Storm staring down at him, concern written all over his warm brown eyes. “That was some fall, Spidey. Are you okay?”

“I am now,” he says without thinking, then fights the urge to smack himself directly into another billboard.  

Johnny lets out a small laugh. “I think you must have hit your head pretty hard.”

“Oh, yeah, that's it. That's totally why I said that.”

He stares at Johnny, and Johnny stares back.

“So are you gonna get down or…”

“Oh, uh s-sorry,” Peter blurts and scrambles to the ground.

“It’s fine, dude.” Johnny looks at him uncertainly. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You have a mild concussion, Karen’s voice says in his head.

“Shut up, Karen,” Peter mumbles and Johnny’s eyes widen.

“No, that’s just- my suit talks to me sometimes,” he clarifies.

Johnny looks at him like he grew a second head. “That’s it, I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“No hospitals!” Peter practically yells. “Seriously, I’m fine, I just need to sleep it off. It’s not the first time I’ve swung into a billboard.” He lets out a sigh before hesitantly admitting, “And it probably won’t be the last.”

Johnny smiles at him and a warm feeling settles in Peter’s chest. “Take care, Spidey. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

He flies off, leaving Peter staring at the spot he occupied moments ago.

“God, I hope so,” he finally says, but there's no one around to hear him anyway.

The next day, a photo of them ends up in The Daily Bugle , the headline accusing Spider-Man of seducing the Human Torch to the dark side.

Ned laughs so hard he falls out of his chair.  

“I can't believe you hit on the Human Torch,” Ned says, voice full of disbelief. They're sitting on the floor of Ned’s bedroom, a video game pulled up on the TV in front of them. His friend had finally convinced him to tell the whole story of his encounter with Johnny Storm, a decision Peter was beginning to think was a huge mistake. “I thought you hated the guy.”

“I regret telling you anything, ever.” He shoves a handful of potato chips into his mouth in a desperate attempt to eat away his feelings.

“Better me than MJ.”

“She cannot know about this.”

“Um…”

“You already told her, didn't you?”

“Like a minute after you told me.”

“Oh my god.”

“You have to admit it's kinda funny.”

“No it's not,” Peter groans, putting his head in his hands. “What if I see him again?”

“Come on, what are the chances of that?”

(Chapter 2)

[roatsww]

Living With AIDS – My Journey Through Hell.

   I lived through the plague that shook the world to its core and brought it to its knees, miraculously I survived against all odds when all my peers were taken, I survived because it's all I know, survival. But, to what end, as I have survived alone, and I live in a world peopled by loneliness, I carry it all alone, I cry in the middle of the night from my loneliness, the loneliness of being a survivor. June 5th – (HIV Long Term Survivors Day) is not a day that I celebrate, it is a day on which I remember, it is a day when I remember a time so long ago, a time when a strange virus decimated the best in the world, when a virus that the world and the medical fraternity knew so little about changed the way that people would think about life, Long Term Survivors day is a day that I remember when a virus changed my world forever when a tiny little virus brought me to my knees and changed my whole outlook on life.

  25 years ago, I lay in a hospital bed, with Rosie who was not only my sister, but also my best friend, my soul-mate and my life-long protector at my side, when a doctor came through and pronounced the death sentence over me, with Rosie holding my hand I heard those terrible words,

  “You’ve got AIDS, your lungs are flooded with puss and streptococcal bacteria, you’re dying and there’s nothing that we can do for you, there’s no cure and there’s no treatment, you are terminal, it’s just a matter of hours if not days, I’m sorry!”

  It was to be the longest night of my life, because I decided there and then that I was not going to accept it, I was not just going to curl up and die, I decided to fight and to live, but in hindsight, perhaps I should have just given up and saved myself this journey through hell. When I was released from that “Death-bed” I went into ‘AIDS denial’, I refused to accept anything to do with AIDS, I tried to not only drive it from my body, but also from my mind, I refused point blank to accept this one-way journey with no return ticket.

  The saddest thing for me on that day was that neither Rosie nor I knew it, (7 months later Rosie was diagnosed with benign melanoma ‘Skin Cancer’, but that although I had been given a death sentence by the doctors on the first of August 1995, I would be the one to pronounce a death sentence over my beloved sister on the twenty-ninth of September 2011’, 16 years later, and that I who was supposed to die would outlive my sister who would finally lose her fifteen year battle against cancer on the 22nd of December 2011.

  I suppose I should begin at the beginning, In 1984, I packed up all my things and sold everything I could to buy a ticket to Europe, I needed to escape the abuse of my childhood, and the abuse I had already experienced as a young gay man in this country because I was Gay, a country which I loved, but also needed to escape, a country where it was a crime to be gay.

   I met Reynir Mâr on Prinzengracht strasse, Amsterdam in October 1985, Reynir was my first love he was charming, cute and stole my heart, six weeks later I was on a plane to Reykjavik in Iceland, young ignorant of the world, and totally ignorant of gays and gay life, but I knew what I was, and I knew what I wanted.

  Reynir and I set up home in one of the most beautiful cities in the world, first I worked nights in a factory which made fishing nets, and then I worked in a clothing company as I slowly tried to build a life for myself, it was six months into our relationship when Reynir announced that he had AIDS, and had been living with it for some time, and just as the world was still desperately trying to learn about this disease, so were we, and all of Reynirs friends who were also living with AIDS, and here it was 34 years ago that I began my journey with AIDS, and even though I didn’t know it at the time, I was infected with the HI-Virus, and so began my life of living in the shadow of AIDS. Even though I lived in a community of artists performers and fashion models, a community which was being hardest hit by this terrible epidemic that was sweeping the world, I just feigned ignorance, and wouldn’t acknowledge its existence, I suppose I may as well admit that I was STUPID in the first degree, and never even thought that it would touch me, Reynir and I had an active sex-life, without any condoms, and I just never thought to get tested, the world lived in fear, yet I lived on in feigned ignorance, because for the first time in my life I was happy and not being brutalised.

  December 1987 Reynir introduced me to Linda Petursdöttir, the new reigning Miss World, and I entered the world of designing for the beauty queens. In late 1988 my relationship with Reynir came crashing down, and as young and stupid as I was, I walked away from a life and a career that could have taken me to the top of the world, I walked away from it all to return to Johannesburg, where I again took up fashion design. In late 1992 Reynir finally succumbed to AIDS, I had still not taken the step to be tested, until this terrible disease struck me down for the first time, and I received my first test for AIDS and my first “Death Sentence on 1st of August 1995”. The first day of my journey through the depths of Hell.

  AIDS has affected my life in so many ways, AIDS stole my youth, it stole my dignity, AIDS has at times dragged me to the depths of despair and several failed suicide attempts, AIDS has made my life one of isolation and loneliness, AIDS has not only taught me just how very cruel human beings can be but also how loving and caring a very few of them are, AIDS has even shaken my faith to its very core, but today after thirty four years, I AM STILL HERE because after all that AIDS has taken from me, AIDS has given me an indestructible inner strength without which I would never have survived these past 34 years, I am a survivor when those I knew and were close to me, never made it, I am still here in spite of the odds which were stacked against me.

  I remember those early days, after my first diagnosis, going to Helen Joseph Hospital to see a doctor, I would sit in a queue for hours, just to get a file, and then up to the “AIDS Ward”, where I would sit for another few hours waiting to be seen by a doctor, in those early days in South Africa it was very few gay men who were visiting the “AIDS Ward” in South Africa, gay men all had money, and were seeing private doctors, I on the other hand was poor, and had no choice but to visit a Government clinic or hospital. When I finally got to be seen by a doctor in the consulting room, I was asked to strip naked, I even had to remove my underwear, and I would be examined by which-ever doctor was on duty, in those days the doctors seemed to have an obsession with my genitals, and I’d have the family jewels prodded and  examined over and over again, the worst was that I’d be told to sit on a chair and wait, and then a squad of doctors and nurses would be dragged into the consulting room, where I would once again have to stand and parade every orifice and every inch of my body to the ‘watchers’, some even went as far as to request that I “Get it hard, so that we can see what it looks like.”, I am a private person and very shy, so they had no luck with that request, it was humiliating and degrading, as there was nothing wrong with my genitals. This happened on two subsequent visits, and after the third humiliating visit, I vowed to never go back to a government clinic again where the medical personnel had absolutely no respect for the dignity of a human being.

  In November 1998, I got sick with a Streptococcal infection for a second time, with puss streaming from not only my mouth and my nose but also from my eyes, I refused point-blank to go to a government hospital or clinic and borrowed R400.00 from my church so that I could see a private doctor, at the time I was working as a missionary in the informal settlements for the Dutch Reformed Church, I survived another “Terminal diagnosis”, my second death sentence from the AIDS virus, I am allergic to penicillin, and although every human being on this planet is a carrier of the Streptococcal bacteria, I am one of the few who are actually susceptible to it, and actually get sick from it, as a very young child, I constantly suffered from “Boils” abscess’ and AIDS was a perfect vehicle for the bacteria to thrive in my compromised immune system. I have no idea why I survived this second terminal diagnosis, I don’t know how, but I did, and I am still here.

  Working as a missionary in the informal settlement, one of the donors to the projects I ran was Dorcas AID Southern Africa, and in October 2000, the regional director of Dorcas Aid asked me if I would be willing to help out in Kwa Zulu-Natal where the rural areas were being ravaged by a Cholera Epidemic, so I packed my bags and went off into the heart of a Cholera Epidemic, when some of the doctors in the area found out that I was a person with AIDS in a cholera area, they told me that I was mad because if I became infected with Cholera I would have no chance of survival, yet I stayed for six months to save lives and make a difference. I returned at the end of April 2001 and went back to working with AIDSLINK in Hillbrow, where I spent my time scouring the streets for people who were dying of AIDS so that they wouldn’t die alone, I’d make home visits, and bring those who were ambulatory to the Essellen Street centre, where I ran a skills development project and where AIDSLINK provided a cooked meal every day. I sat with so many in those dark days, just holding some-one’s hand while they died, and there was no treatment at that stage, it truly was a death sentence which first made you a social outcast before it killed you.

  At this time I must say that the South African government was in total AIDS denial, treatment was not being provided, and South Africa had a Health Minister who advocated eating “Madumbi’s” (An African Wild Potato) and beetroot as a cure all for AIDS, it was a farce and unforgiveable, thousands of lives could have been saved.

  In 2003 I had my next “Brush with Death” and I was pronounced terminal for the third time, with a raging fever, pneumonia and a streptococcal infection and again I was given days to live, but a friend stepped in and got me to see a doctor in private practice, who pulled me through with massive doses of antibiotics, Anti Retroviral Therapy was by now available in South Africa to private patients who could afford it, state patients were only given ART if they had a CD4 count of less than 50, and even though my CD4 count was at 230, my viral load was at greater than >500.000, I was unable to suppress my viral load, and I no-longer had any immune system, yet I was denied ARV’s, here again a friend stepped in, and offered to pay for my ART (Anti-Retroviral Therapy), and I slowly recovered enough to go and work for Sparrow Schools, where AECI took over the financial burden of my ART and 1 year later they discontinued there support as they claimed the treatment was too expensive. In 2006 I developed internal abscesses, once again thanks to the streptococcal bacteria which flood my body, I was in incredible pain, with no money for private doctors, so Rosie took me first to Helen Joseph Hospital, where, I was eventually examined after a full day of interminable waiting, and referred to Johannesburg General Hospital, here again I faced a long day of waiting in a queue, it was only by 3.00pm that I finally received a file and was passed on to the surgical department, here Rosie sat with me in a long queue to see one of the surgeons, at 2.45am the following morning, still sitting in a queue that was going nowhere, I was told to go home and come back later in the morning, and that I would again have to wait for my file at registration, By 7.00am we were back, Rosie had to go to work, but told me she would find me again at Lunch time, and when she came back I was still in Reception and doubled up in agony on the floor, still without a file. Rosie loaded me into the back of her Landrover and drove me to Helen Joseph Hospital, where the doctor on duty eventually told me at seven thirty pm that night that I would have to come back in the morning to see a surgeon. I kept my file, took it home with me, and the following morning I reported directly to the surgical department, where after a five hour wait in agony and fever a surgeon examined me, and told me that I would have to leave, as Cancer patients took priority over all other surgery.

  By this time I could not walk, and Rosie helped me to crawl to her Landrover, and into the back, where I travelled back home doubled over on my knees. The following morning Rosie came to see me, I was pale and in agony, so she phoned a friend who was not a practicing GP, but was working for a company as their health consultant, he examined me and told Rosie that I needed to be operated on immediately, or that I would die, Again I crawled on my knees into the back of Rosie’s Landrover, and was driven to a private consulting room in the neighbourhood, where Rosie’s friend spoke to the practicing doctor who examined me, and agreed that I needed instant surgery to save my life, but there was no money, Rosie went and withdrew her last money from her bank account, and I ended up being operated on under local anaesthetic in a doctors consulting room for R1,300.00, I have never screamed so loud and so much, as I did that day, the pain was unbearable, but, I am still here, despite the cruelty and lack of compassion of the South African Government health system.

  In 2009 I developed an Inguinal hernia, and had to walk 2 kilometres to the local clinic to see the clinic sister (Registered Nurse) so that I could be referred to a doctor in De Aar so as to have surgical repair, I went the first day, and sat until lunch time, when I was eventually the last patient in the clinic, but the Sister went on a Lunch break, when she returned there were no other patients, I was the last patient, I was kept waiting until 3.15pm when a clinic assistant eventually told me to come back the following day as the Sister would not be seeing any more patients. I went home in agony, and returned the next day, only to go through exactly the same process, and the following day for the third time, I went back to the clinic, and when the sister left to go on her lunch break, I had had enough and I went home in tears of frustration as well as tears of agony. The following day I went to see a private doctor with money I could not afford, and I was immediately referred to a private doctor in De Aar who agreed to see me pro-bono, on examination, he told me that I would need to be operated on immediately to repair the hernia, because by this time my intestines were filling my scrotum, This doctor arranged with a surgical team that they would do the repair only at the cost of hiring the State Operating Theatre at the De Aar hospital, and one of my friends agreed to pay for it. I went into the theatre at 6.00am, and an operation scheduled to last at most an hour took 4 hours as the damage was so great, I had developed a double hernia and the hernia had damaged one of my testicles which had had to be repaired, instead of going home, I was placed into high care, and immediately on being placed into the hospital bed I complained to the nursing sister in charge of the ward that the mattress was wet, she retorted that if I wanted to ‘piss’ in the bed, then I must lie in it, yet I had only just climbed into a bed a few seconds previously which had a mattress soaked from head to toe, nevertheless, by the next day my friends came to fetch me with a dose of bronchial pneumonia on top of the surgery, and I don’t think anyone could ever imagine the constant pain of pneumonia coughing on a fresh inguinal hernia repair, it was agony from hell.

  My dance with ART has been a hard one in that I am one of 5% of people who react badly to Anti-Retroviral Therapy, in the early days I suffered severely from headaches, diarrhoea and nausea, which was so bad that I wanted to scream from the pain and would have to sit on the toilet for hours on end holding a bucket between my knees as the vomit spewed out front and the liquid simply just ran out my ass. My doctor at the time told me that I had reached undetectable with a CD4 count of 300, and that I would either have to learn to live with the side-effects, or stop ART and die, it was a choice I had to make, in those early days there were not many choices to make as the availability of different types of ARV’s were limited. Drug companies all have it listed in the drug stat sheets that one of the side-effects of ARV therapy is pneumonia, even I could read that, and I suffer continually from fluid on my chest, at one point it was so bad that I was literally drowning in my bed, and when I stopped the pills and went to the clinic, the clinic sister referred me to De Aar hospital to see a doctor, I spent a day sitting in the corridor waiting to be seen, but at 2.15pm the ambulance driver came and told me to get in as he had a letter for the clinic from the doctor. the following Monday when I went to the clinic, eventually the sister told me that the doctor had prescribed stopping my ART until such time as I learned compliance, I couldn’t believe it, without either interviewing me or examining me, a state doctor had recommended that I be taken off of ARV’s because I was not compliant, these were a new regimen prescribed by the clinic sister, and thus were expected to cause some side-effect was I to continue the pills that were trying to drown me in my bed? My friend sent me back to the private doctor in De Aar where I was put back onto my old regimen.

  In April 2015 I developed a fever, and had no clue what was causing it, and I refused to go back to the clinic to be treated like shit by the Nursing staff, eventually on Easter Saturday, a friend came round and loaded me into her car, and then drove me to the local hospital, where I was verbally assaulted by the doctor on duty, so badly that eventually as I left the matron put her arms around me and apologised that a doctor could treat a person who was so sick, so badly. I discovered the following week that I was suffering from Hepatitis B, which the private practice doctor in De Aar told me, and put me onto the appropriate medication.

  To ease the financial burden on my friend, against my better judgement I went back to the local clinic, at this point on my current regimen I was down to viral load = undetectable with a CD4 count of 750 my highest ever, I was really well for the first time, aside from recovering from HBV. The state doctor immediately changed my ART, and gave me the new one pill a day regimen, although I was only given enough pills to last a week, and told to come back the next week for more pills, which of course included 3-4 hours of interminable waiting, by the second week, I had diarrhoea so bad that the shit was running down my legs like water, at times I would be walking down the street and without warning I’d suddenly feel the wetness running like a river down my legs, I would go to the clinic, and the nursing sister would give me 6 diarrhoea tablets, not enough for one day, I’d have to go back the following day for more, and shit myself while waiting through the long queue, on the third day I tried to see the doctor, and even though I was the first patient at the clinic, the doctor was calling all the other patients and ignoring me, went I felt the shit start running down my legs without being examined by the doctor I left, and now, no matter what, I will never ever set foot in a state (government) clinic ever again, I would rather die than ever allow those people to humiliate me again or to impair my dignity any further as they have no respect for human beings, and I might be poor, but I do at least still have some self-respect. I went back to my private doctor, who was livid at the treatment that I received, and put me back onto my old regimen.

  As a Christian, AIDS has shaken my faith to its core, I have been through times when I have railed as a useless Don Quixote at God, at times I have tried to run and hide from God, I have known despair and anger, and if you asked me where I my faith stands today I can honestly tell you that I don’t know, I believe with my whole being with my heart and my soul I believe that God exists, and that all I need to enter the Kingdom of Heaven is to believe that Jesus Christ is the saviour. If you ask me what my relationship is with God, then in that too I can honestly tell you that I do not know but, what I do know is that God loves me very much, and were it not for the Grace of God, I would not have been able to endure this journey through Hell. I have a lot of soul searching to do on the questions of God and my faith, I have to re find myself after having endured this terrible journey through the depths of hell, but somewhere, somehow, I will find the answers.

  Because of AIDS my life has been anything but normal, for the past 24 years (since I first became ill) I have learned to live with never knowing when my ass is going to try and fall out and expose me to indignity, I have learned to endure crying in frustration because the vomit has spray painted the walls and the floor and there is nobody to help me clean it up, I have learned to live with long nights crying my eyes out because of the loneliness of isolation, I have learned to live with the pain and the depression. Because of AIDS I have had to endure years of pain because as a result of my body continually trying to fight this virus my body has remained in a state of inflammation, because of what the ART does to my bones I am having to accept that I am currently losing all of my teeth at an alarming rate, and because I am poor, there simply just isn’t any money to visit a dentist, I can’t even get the complete comprehensive health care that I should, simply because there isn’t any money for it, but, I survive, after all, I am still here.

  Because of AIDS I have had to endure the abuse of state health-care workers, I have had to endure the indignity of the contents of my medical file being discussed on the streets in public, of me and those contents illegally being discussed by correctional services staff with convicted criminals in the local prison, which in itself is a crime, I have had to endure poverty and rejection, stigma and discrimination, but after 34 years I have simply had no choice but to endure, I have learned to live with the whispers, the scandal and the pointed fingers, but who is anybody to whisper a word or point a finger, for not one of them have had to live with AIDS and travel the journey through Hell which I have and will continue to do until my time is up. I have never spoken out about what I live through, because I simply learned to accept and to endure, even as a child when I grew up being so viciously abused by my father, even then I never said a word to anyone, I simply endured. It is hard for me to trust people, and I never know if people are being genuine or not, so I simply just keep quiet, I have learned to endure the worst that life can throw at a human being, and I have learned to do it alone, how can I be expected to ask for help, when I expect that it will never come, and I learned that it wouldn’t come when I was just a little boy growing up on the wrong side of an abusers fists?

  As a creative I have had to struggle with trying to find money to be able to work, this year I decided to give back in the only way that I can, and I donated one of my works to ART for AIDS, and had it accepted by their jury of artists, collectors and gallery owners, but at the last minute, I had to withdraw my entry as I could not afford to deliver my entry to San Francisco, two weeks later I lost the use of my kiln in an electrical fault, R25,000.00 worth of damage, and I cannot recover, I will not be able to work as an artist again, and that is for me the saddest thing which I have to endure as I reach this 24 year milestone of living with AIDS and 34 years of living in the shadow of AIDS.

On the fourth of January 2017 I suffered a very bad fall on Loop street, at first I thought I was only bruised, but when the pain persisted and walking became increasingly difficult, I went to see the state doctor, and after describing my symptoms to him, he refused to either take X-Rays or do any further examination, eventually a friend once again took me to a private doctor in De Aar, who on examining me said: “It looks like a fractured right Ilium, which if it hadn’t healed within four months is going to need to be surgically repaired, by an orthopaedic surgeon, and that is why the state doctor refuses to look at it, they don’t want to have you in ICU for 6 weeks.”And so I continue to walk and sleep in constant pain, simply just enduring as always. At the end of October 2017 I developed an internal abscess on the left side of my jaw; I was put onto first one, and then a second and eventually a third series of antibiotics but the state doctors have played so many little games with antibiotics, at times giving me children’s antibiotics, and then when I question it, they tell me to “Oh, just double the dose.”, that I am now drug resistant to most antibiotics, I was sent to De Aar where the state dentist removed a tooth above the abscess, and yet 19 months later I am still swallowing puss from the same abscess. The state doctor told me that there was nothing that they can do about it.

Unfortunately at the end of 2017, my friend could no-longer pay for my ART, and I have been living at the mercy of the government clinics, with severe diarrhoea every day, a return to constant abscess break-outs, and deep depression. On the 27th of April 2018, I stepped off of the veranda at Richmond Info, and broke my foot, it was a Thursday afternoon, so I hobbled all the way up to the hospital where the Sister on duty told me that she refused to call the doctor and that I must go to the clinic the following day, so I hobbled back home and spent the night in agony. The following morning, a Friday, I hobbled the 1,3 kilometres to the clinic at seven am, when the doctor arrived at 11h45, he promptly told me that he refuses to look at broken bones on a Friday, and that I must go to the hospital the next day, again I hobbled home and spent another agonising night without so much as even a panado. On Saturday morning, I hobbled back across the N1 Highway all the way up to the hospital, and when the doctor finally arrived, he took a cursory glance at my foot, and told me that there is nothing he can do and that I would just have to live with it, so I hobbled back home with nothing for either the pain or the inflammation. Finally, living with AIDS had broken me, I quit my ARV’s on the first of April 2017, and have been waiting to die ever since, and yet in July of 2017 I developed pneumonia, desperate to die, not having had any treatment, I went and sat on the veranda at Richmond Info, hoping that the Icy Cold wind would finish me off quickly, and yet, without having so much as a vitamin pill, never mind antibiotics, three days later I was well. I must add here about the loneliness of AIDS isolation, whenever I am sick, and I usually get Bronchitis twice a year and pneumonia once a year, all those who know me, just disappear, nobody comes to ring my doorbell and ask if I need anything, nobody comes and offers me a cup of tea or a sandwich, they leave me in my loneliness and isolation, they see me struggling to breathe as I walk all the way to the municipality to buy electricity, but, not one will come and help me, no-one will even offer to got to the municipality or the shops for me, so I just bear my personal hell on my own.

  In February 2019, I developed a second abscess in the centre of my lower jaw, the pain was unbearable as I now had two, the original abscess on the left side of my jaw, and one in the centre, I couldn’t bear the pain and limped up to the hospital (Still limping from my broken foot and pelvis), and even though the nurses could see that I was writhing in agony, not one of them offered me even a panado they simply walked up and down ignoring my agony, when I saw the new doctor two hours later, he sat himself down two metres away from me, and that was the examination, he didn’t even look into my mouth and he didn’t even bother to page back through my file to see what treatment I had previously been given (if he had he would have known that I was drug resistant to the antibiotics which he prescribed), I was given 3 Azithromycin tablets, panado and brufen and told to get on the ambulance the next day and see the dentist in Victoria West. the next day, still in agony, I arrived in Victoria West, and when the dentist saw me, she extracted the tooth above the front abscess, but, refused to remove the tooth above the original abscess, which had now been draining puss into my mouth for 19 months. Now March 2020 and I now have three constantly draining abscess’ in my mouth, I live in pain from the infection which has spread throughout my body and I have sores all over my body and my scalp, but, I am poor, so what can I do? On the 22nd of December 2019 I broke the small toe on my right foot, my third broken bone in three years, as AIDS experts around the world discuss the phenomenon of Long Term Survivors losing bone density because of the early Anti-Retrovirals, the local state doctors tell me that there is nothing to be concerned about in the fact that I have broken three bones in three years. These days I struggle to eat because of the pain caused by the abscess’ in my mouth, I am a man broken by AIDS and  medical practitioners who do not care whether I have life or even quality of life. In all my years of living with AIDS not a single doctor has ever done a thorough examination of me, so I ask myself, “Am I the most neglected AIDS patient on the planet?”. Perhaps if the employees of the Government health-care System actually tried to practice medicine instead of practising arrogance then, just maybe I would have a chance.

  Because of AIDS I have been where most fear to go, I have seen what most wouldn’t even dream of seeing, Because of AIDS I am battered, I am bruised, I have been broken, I am no longer the man I used to be, but I am still here, even if I am only a man, with all that I have left, being the love in my heart for this broken world.

  Against all odds, I am a survivor of the deadliest epidemic ever to ravage the world so far approximately 32 million [Statistics are inaccurate as many AIDS deaths were never listed as such UN AIDS estimates somewhere between 23.6 million–43.8 million] people have died of AIDS and today more than 37.9 million people are living with HIV, and I so often wonder why did I make it when so many didn’t, perhaps my surviving is not because I am courageous, perhaps it is not because I am determined, but simply because I am a survivor, and all I know is to survive, how-ever lonely that survival might be, I am here because a few people have loved me and cared enough to keep me alive.

  I share my story with love for those very few who have stood beside me and held my hand through this difficult journey of my own private hell.

  I love you all, and I am privileged and blessed to have had you on this My life with AIDS and my journey through Hell, without all of you who have played a part, I would not be here, but, I AM, I AM STILL HERE, I have endured because there are still a few people in this world who are filled with goodness.

  On June 5th, World Long Term Survivor day, remember those of us who were there at the beginning, remember those of us who have survived against the odds, we were really there, and we survived the plague that shook the world and brought it to its knees, and yes……..  we are still here! Michael Drysdale

  Remember ;- U = U (Undetectable is Un-transmittable) please try to keep up your ART, no matter how difficult.

[choisgirls]

Masterlist

EDITED: 7/14/18, 10:20pm

Heya howdy doodle doo my dudes, lemme know if there’s anything wrong~ ~404

Headcanons/Imagines/Reactions/Drabbles!:

If they’re a doodler or a writer

Favourite landscapes

Favourite holiday

Favourite seasons

MC can’t sleep due to back pain

MC being extremely flexible

MC insecure about tummy/freckles

Hiking date

MC makes/wears cosplay

Reuniting at the airport

Best friends/platonic

MC has pet birds

MC as a fencer

MC really into death metal

MC as a major snuggler

MC setting up Chanukkah decor

MC and the piano

MC as childhood friend

Engagement rings

MC as a tattoo parlor regular

MC spamming everyone with the Bee movie

MC loses focus easily

Tall MC

Favourite Studio Ghibli movies

Drunk MC/Love reveal

Favourite way to spend time with MC

Positive pregnancy test as holiday gift

MC inviting Unknown to Christmas event (Christmas DLC)

Kinda gross MC

MC being hit on by another person

MC with someone else during holidays (ANGST)

Having to get undercuts

Obese MC (insecure)

Insomniac MC

Extreme sports with MC

MC/Family sass battle

MC with acne scars

MC on period/heavy cramps

Classic rock obsessed MC

MC Randomly speaking Russian

MC afraid of people

MC from a cold country

MC insecure eating in front of others

MC addicted to dabbing

MC with an emo fashion

MC obsessed with Classic Rock

MC as an MMA fighter

MC holed up in their room because of mental health issues

Bilingual MC forgets names for things

MC doesn’t like people spending money on them

MC likes to say “I love you” platonically

MC works the nightshift

Wedding dresses/suits

MC being random at the wrong time

MC asking for a piggy back ride

Mute MC

MC who likes things meticulously clean and in order

6'6 MC

Slightly Telepathic MC

MC always wears heelies

MC with anorexia

MC does martial arts

Short MC has long legs

Hopeless Romantic MC

MC Sick on Christmas

MC as a politician

Reactions to Jaehee/MC friendship

MC picks at scabs and gets scars

MC is an irl princess

Misc. V headcanons

MC as Terry Crews (I hate this so mUCH)

RFA Playing Undertale

Bald MC

MC protecting RFA from being hit on

MC Constantly in hospital/afraid of hospital

RFA at a strip club

RFA as text messages from 404

MC oblivious to flirting

MC not wanting to give birth/okay with adoption

MC in musical having to kiss another actor

Teacher MC

Witchy MC

MBTI Personality Types

404’s Face Claims

MCXDanny DeVito because y'all hate me

Telepathic MC part 2

Winter Soldier/Black Widow MC

MC afraid of needles

Random Korean Culture HCS

RFA: Given blank piece of paper, what would they do?

MC is a Kpop star

MC is into cars

RFA+V+SAERAN Falling hard for MC

Sharing bed for the first time

Part two: Christmas Angst (HAPPY ENDINGS)

Celebrating MC’s birthday

RFA Break ups (ANGST?)

Finding out MC Knows Korean

Reactions to Jaehee x Zen

MC messes up their hair 

Reacting to MC being gay

MC pretends to be married to friend

MC as a Victoria Secret Model

RFA opinions on pineapple on pizza + other foods

RFA as Vampires: Feeding habits

RFA Falling for Male!MC

Going to Pride with MC

MC really loves cats

MC plays instrument fluently

MC randomly wanting to slow dance

MC having younger sibling(s)

MC Loving Stars and the Ocean

MC killing someone

MC with narcolepsy

Dominant (personality) MC

Being called senpai by MC

Ripping MC’s favourite underwear (I don’t consider this NSFW but be warned)

Adopted MC Feels Replaced by Family

Shy at first but comes out of her shell MC

MC pregnant with quadruplets

MC as professional cha-cha dancer

MC with an over-protective sister

MC having panic attack in public

MC With Sensory Overload

MC Accidentally taking a drug

Smart but Silly MC

MC Late to work due to frick frack (not NSFW)

Christmas gifts for MC

MC as a seasonal worker (Saeyoung x mc)

What they smell like

Camping Trip (Yoosung x MC)

Cooking with the RFA

Their Quirks? (Small mysme x bnha crossover)

Music tastes

MC with a child

Saeyoung/Saeran x MC fluff

(Not) Too sexy for my shirt (Saeyoung x MC)

Arms (Lyric drabble [Saeyoung x MC])

Nightmares (Jumin x MC)

Unrequited Love (Saeyoung [Saeran x MC])

First words to Deaf!MC

Gimme a Kiss (NSFW-ISH?) (Jihyun x MC)

MC afraid of flying (Zen x MC) (Jihyun x MC)

MC with winter blues (Jihyun x MC) (Zen x MC)

MC in a coma

Saeran/Yoosung with MC’s puppy

The stage that couldn’t love (Zen x MC) (TW)

MC with an identical twin

MC who is able to imitate voices

Choi Boi’s birthday (6/11/18)

Saeran’s Corner:

Annoying Unknown

Annoying Unknown Part 2

Annoying Unknown Part 3

Partners in Crime

Ice Skating

Playground Fun?

Biting Kink (SFW)

Tsundere Saeran

MC picking their lip

Morning kisses

Thirsty MC with good ending Saeran (NSFW-ISH?)

Virgin MC (NSFW)

Wanweird

DEFINITION FICS:

Chimerical - Jihyun

Eunoia - Jihyun

Rubastosis - Jumin

FICS:

Saeran being called Edgelord

Saeran singing “When Christmas Comes to Town”

Saeran/MC being intimate when Saeyoung walks in

RFA+V+SAERAN Reacting to seeing Saeyoung on mission/date

Saeyoung cutting off Zen’s ponytail

The MC’s

HIDDEN TREASURES {Treasure Hunter!AU}:

Chapter 1

SOULMATE!AU:

In the Right Direction {VxMC}

Not Afraid of the Night {JuminxMC}

Leopard-print Bandaids {VanderwoodxMC}

Seeing Red {ZenxMC}

RFSPOOK:

Treat or treating habits/favourite candy

Family Themes Costumes

MC Never celebrating Halloween

Couples Costumes

Werewolf!RFA+

Haunted House- Jumin

Ghost?- Saeran

Haunting Pranks

MC Exploring an abandoned house

MC and Halloween Rituals

Ouija Board Mystake- Saeyoung

Reactions to Haunted House

404′s Ridiculous AU’s:

Duck AU

Sock AU

Stock Image AU

Car AU

Meme AU

Lamp AU

Coat AU

Restaurant/Fast food AU

Fruit AU

Homestuck AU

Dog AU

Shrek AU

VALENTINES FICS:

Saeyoung

Saeran

Jumin

Yoosung

Zen

Jaehee

V

Valentines (2018)

EASTER FIC:

Easter

NSFW:

Jealousy (NSFW)

Pegging (NSFW)

Massages (NSFW)

MC making breakfast with nothing but a t-shirt on (NSFW)

7 mins in heaven/Spin the bottle (Possible NSFW?)

MC walks in on them masturbating (NSFW)

Masochist MC (NSFW)

Getting Caught Being Intimate by Child (NSFW?)

MC calling penises by weird names (NSFW-ISH?)

Saeran smut (NSFW)

MC loves keyhole sweaters (Light NSFW?)

Nymphomaniac MC

First Time Having Sex

What kind of porn they’d watch

Jumin smut (NSFW)

SUBMISSIONS/ADMIN PERSONAL:

Literally a completely self-indulgent Fouran fic

404 Personal Emojis

Beautiful-mystic-mess/404: Fidget Spinner AU?

404: Saeran the Jolly Green Giant

ALL SUBMISSIONS CAN BE FOUND TAGGED: #submission

ALL PERSONAL CAN BE TAGGED EITHER BY: #admin art #my art (sometimes can be found under any variation of #4s doodles)

[elizacatherinemoore18-blog]

Are there any limits to what can be described as Performance Art?

The Oxford Dictionary definition of Performance Art is; ‘an art form that combines visual art with dramatic performance’. The connotations of the word ‘performance’ suggest an audience. After reading Grayson Perry’s book: Playing in the Gallery.I became fascinated by his statement ‘how do we tell if something is good? What are the criteria by which we judge art made today, and who tells us it is good?’. This allowed me to question myself and I realised, it is difficult to say that something is notart. Taking a shower, drinking water, applying my makeup. Are these performances? Are they performances even though no one but myself is witnessing them? In a world where we are obsessed with self-documentation, and all rely on the use of social media platforms such as Twitter and Facebook. Is it possible that we are all performance artists, as we express ourselves in any way we can in day-to-day life. We are able to record every second of our lives if we wish to. In this essay I hope to explore what qualifies as performance art, and consider the idea that we are all performance artists.

The origin of the Performance art movement began with peaceful rebellion against the violence and hate of World War One, headed by the Dadaist and Futurism movements in the 1910s. Performance art challenged the more traditional methods of creating art such as painting or sculpture. ‘In the post-war period performance became aligned with conceptual art, because of its often immaterial nature’. The horror of the First World War, grew equally powerful and dynamic movements of art, with the Dadaist movement (founded in Zurich) producing poetry, art, and performances all displaying a satirical and negative reactions to War. Hans Arp, a French-German sculptor, painter and poet stated: ‘revolted by the butchery of the 1914 World War, we in Zurich devoted ourselves to the arts. While guns rumbled in the distance, we sang, painted, made collages, and wrote poems with all our might’. The movement questioned and challenged the social climate in the sense that if we as humans could cause so much pain, what was the value of creating art? The movement set out to destroy tradition, and create art with new functions. The Futurism movement ‘celebrated the modern world of industry and technology’, headed by Italian poet Filippo Tommaso Marinetti in 1909. The crux of the movement was separation from the past, specifically Italy’s oppressive one. The Performance art movement began to gain momentum and ‘stricter rules’[1]during the late 1970s, and transformed into a more time-based process, typically art would be made in live performances with people observing it. It is generally seen as an ‘ephemeral event’[2], rather than a stand-alone object, and is often filmed on a camera, or photographed as the event is happening. To me, ephemeral performance art imitates the unpredictability of real life, and the two are interchangeable.

This shows that the function of performance art has always been politically engaging, and has been utilised largely to respond to political events and has been ‘fuelled by many of the activist movements’[3]. The politically turbulent era of the mid 1960s, with the nuclear Cuban Missile Crisis and anti-war protests against the Vietnam War had a soundtrack of ‘folk-inspired protest songs’[4]by the likes of Bob Dylan and Joan Baez. David Wojnarowicz’s 1990 film, Silence = Death, made in 1990, the artist can be seen sewing up his mouth. This dark and horrifying imagery was protesting against the underfunding of AIDs research and treatment, which at the time was taking many lives. The lack of awareness was dangerous for many gay men at the time. In Yoko Ono’s 1964 work ‘Cut Piece’was first performed in Japan, in New York in 1965 and then in London. The artist gave the audience a pair of scissors and were encouraged to cut away pieces of her clothing, bit by bit, one by one, until she was in front of them in her underwear. Some members of the audience would cut small items of her clothing away, whereas others would cut away her blouse or bra strap. Yoko Ono remained quiet, still and expressionless throughout the performance. This poignant performance was to challenge the ‘passive role women often played in public spectacles’[5].Conceptually, this work relies on the audience’s willingness to participate in the performance and can be describes as a ‘Instruction Piece’. The blame is passed onto the audience and will reiterate the idea that the female body has been historically and presently viewed as an object. Similarly, at the Museum of Modern Art in New York City in 1985, an exhibition called ‘An International Survey of Painting and Sculpture’ was put on which would display some of the most influential work of the time. Despite the misleading name of the exhibition, all thirteen out of the one hundred and sixty nine artists with work featured in the exhibition were white females. This lack of diversity upset many people, and in response to this exhibition, a group of anonymous female artists, calling themselves the Guerilla Girls stood outside the gallery holding placards with slogans on them such as ‘Do women have to be naked to get into the Met. Museum?’. These slogans questioned female rights and visibility, even in the art world, and posed questions about the importance of the Male gaze. They could be distinguished easily by the gorilla masks they wore to keep their identity a secret. Feminist artist Judy Chicago said ‘Performance can be fuelled by rage in a way that painting and sculpture cannot.’[6]This suggests to me, that performance art takes many forms, and anything can be performance art if it is objecting to an aspect of the political and social climate. However, this poses the question. Is performance art still relevant, even if it is not in response to anything socially or politically? Can we all be performance artists even if we ourselves are not rebelling against anything?

Yves Klein’s live presentations of anthropometries took place on the 9thof March 1960. The artist asked women to be covered in blue paint (Klein Blue). ‘In his anthropometries Klein used models as living brushes. They smeared themselves with blue paint and pressed against a canvas piece of paper to make an imprint, according to his instructions’[7]. This dramatic event is seen as early performance and body art, and does not seem to have any political functions, and in fact in my opinion seems to unnecessarily sexualise the female body. This performance is not protesting against anything, and is generally only showcasing the Klein blue that the artist was so obsessed with. This allows me to consider if this is performance art, also because he instructed the models where to go, it takes away the ephemeral element of performance art and controls the way they move. This performance is solely about the marks made, and the colour of the marks. This causes me to reconsider my view that, perhaps, performance art does not always have to have a political function, and can alternatively be completely concentrated on drawing.

Perceptions of what constitutes performance art will obviously differ from person to person. To me, performance art feels like one of the purest forms of expression, just as dancing is. One’s own performative actions will influence this. For example, perhaps, a dancer could identify a piece of performance art with movement involved, or a chef could argue that cooking is a piece of performance art. For me, someone who studies art, I feel that my time over the past Foundation year has allowed me to reconsider and examine what I think performance art is. For me now, it is the artistic intention behind an action and the desire to be performative in the process of creating the art. To me, the process is equally important to the outcome within my own art, I have been recording each performance on a camera, looking at the way my body moves to different types of music with a range of different sounds within them. The way the music affects the marks I made fascinates me, which lead me to draw while listening to do more abstract sounds with emotional connotations, such as the sound of a waiting room at a Doctor’s surgery or the sound of my Mother’s laugh. This led me to see what marks I would make when there is silence. Similarly, the performative art I have been making seems to be about the concept of the loss of time and nothingness. While I am performing, I sometimes feel as if time moves very fast, and an hour can feel like ten minutes. I am interested by the fact that the more time I put into the performance, the darker and more interesting the image becomes. Currently, the process and what it teaches me is more important than the end result in this year of exploration that I’ve had. Presently, my work does not hold any political function, and is not revolting against anything. It is largely focusing on different types of mark making. Does this lack of protest limit it as protest art?

When reading Viktor Shkolvsky’s work[8], and considering how it related to the artistic process I found myself disagreeing with his fundamental points that art must have artistic intention. I believe that an actress warming up her voice, a private ritual in preparation for her performance, is as valid as the performance with an audience. Additionally, I believe the interpretation of the audience is just as important as the interpretation for the artist. Someone can consider someone else’s actions, as art.

Serbian performance artist writer and art filmmaker, Marina Abramović, in a video created by The Museum of Modern Art specified the difference between theatre and performance. Her work is largely body, endurance and feminist art. She states in the video ‘this is not a theatre. A theatre will repeat’[9]. She also states that ‘Performance is real. In a theatre you can cut with a knife and there is blood. The knife is not real and blood is not real.In performance the blood and the knife and the body of the performer is real.’ She explains that to her, performance is real life and makes reference to the white box of gallery space. I disagree with her argument, that for performance art to occur, there must be a ‘white box’ or ‘gallery space’, and I believe that performance art can occur anywhere. Performance art is an imitation, and perhaps heightened and purer version of the emotions we experience in real life. Marina Abramović states that,‘performance is the kind of unique form of art and is very temporary and comes and goes.’ Our actions in real life are similarly temporary, unpredictable, and all depend on a range of things that inform our choices. In more recent years, the Draw to Perform: An International Community for Drawing Performance, headed by Ram Samocha, holds an annual International Symposium for the world’s most influential and important Performance drawers. This Symposium looks at the links between performance art and drawing.

In addressing the question considered, the range of ways that performative art presents itself shows the limits of what can be described as performance art are not very strong. Although performance art was originally a process that was in response to times of political turbulence, it is clear from both the Draw to Perform International Symposium and Yves Klein’s anthropometries that the idea that politics and rebellion need to be at the heart of all performances, has been challenged. My own work, can be considered performance art, and there are no political intentions behind it at this moment. This has allowed me to see what are the limitations on my own work, and that the limitations exist, but they are flexible.

The idea that performance art is real life, a point which Marina Abramovićmade, and is not like theatre because it cannot be repeated, makes it clear to me this is another limit to what can be described as performance art. Although I previously believed that anything can be performance art. From a dancer stretching their muscles, to a drag queen applying their makeup before a performance, I now see that although I don’t think there needs to be artistic intention behind a performance, I believe someone has to have an audience for it to be perceived as performance art. I believe there has to be an ephemeral quality to all performance art.

[1]https://www.artsy.net/article/artsy-editorial-performance-art

[2]Bratu Hansen, Miriam. Benjamin and Cinema: Not a One-Way Street. Critical Inquiry, Vol. 25, No. 2, "Angelus Novus": Perspectives on Walter Benjamin (Winter, 1999), pp. 306-343.

[3]https://www.tate.org.uk/art/art-terms/p/performance-art/angry-space-politics-and-activism

[4]https://www.tate.org.uk/art/art-terms/p/performance-art/angry-space-politics-and-activism

[5]https://www.sleek-mag.com/article/feminist-performance-art/

[6]https://www.tate.org.uk/art/art-terms/p/performance-art/angry-space-politics-and-activism

[7]Thames & Hudson, Art the Whole Story, London, Thames and Hudson,pp.498-499, 2010

[8]Shklovsky, Victor,‘Art, as Device’(1917) and Ferdinand de Saussure “excerpts” Course in General Linguistics (1916)

[9]https://www.khanacademy.org/humanities/global-culture/conceptual-performance/v/moma-abramovic-what-is-performance-art