#i actually dropped out of an etching class after 45 minutes

[plumbus-central]

How did you develop your art style? Like how did you find your own voice in your art?

Oh what an interesting question, I never expected to asked abt my art!

Honestly i took a while to think abt this question, and I think a lot i've done about developing my own art style came from seeing things i liked in other people's art and copying it lol.

For instance when i was in the [REDACTED] fandom when i was a young teen there was a very popular artist who used gradients in their work to add depth and color and i liked it a lot, so i started doing it in my work too.

A few years ago i started following an artist and really liked their work bc they had such a strong grasp of color, shape, gesture, and line. And they used these strong, thick lines to fill out the form of their work, but i noticed that the lines often didn't touch and that it didn't matter bc you could still understand and make out the form of whatever they drew just fine. So i decided to stop worrying abt MY lines touching either lol. which is how i ended up with those sort of ghost constructions of figures and shapes i do sometimes.

I can vividly remember seeing a comic on tumblr ONCE where i saw a character have just a line for a mouth that went off their face and i just stared at that panel for a while trying to figure out why i liked it so much lol until i realized it was their expression that i liked. So i kept that in my head, and a few years later i realized that i had started using it in my art too.

Another aspect that has influenced my art is exploring other media and being challenged by my own interests. Like when i was a teen i was very into steven universe and my own ocs. which was fine but didn't challenge me too much artistically. Then in college i got into bojack horseman, and specifically my favorite character was herb kazzaz, a short, fat man with a beard. Completely out of my comfort zone to draw, but i wanted to draw him so bad! so i figured it out!

(some of u might actually be familiar w/ my boajck horseman sideblog @hambone-fakenameington , it hasnt been updated in a while cause im on that rick and morty shit right now lol). But now i have to skills to draw these things by way of my interests in the character.

My fixation with rick and morty was actually so strong at first that i was drawing like crazy, which eventually taught me to focus on and hone my skills with gesture, thumbnailing, and composition bc i wanted to draw so many ideas at once that i couldn't spend too long on each one. (and it also gave me lots of practice). Thanks to my interest in R&M ive also developed skills in drawing very skinny bodies lol, but also on pushing expressions and gestures to extremes that i never used to!

Hell even just trying to figure out how to take features and details from characters in something and translate them into YOUR style can be a big learning and growing experience. (u can see in my old art it took me a while to get rick to look right)

So i guess the overall is that seeking out and consuming media is always important bc you can take a lot of inspiration from something without even realizing it. (honestly if ur feeling stagnant in ur art watching/reading something new can be a good way to jog ur brain). And taking a good look at the art you enjoy and trying to figure out WHY u like it, and what elements are stick out to u. Then seeing if you can bring those elements into ur own art and see if it's successful to u to explore it.

as far as voice goes um.... i guess what's become important to me is that u gotta know when to cut corners lol. like a hand doesn't ALWAYS need to be perfectly formed, like it can be a squiggle and it might even look better for it. sometimes loose and sloppy looks good for what ur doing and sometimes heavily defined and carefully lined work is necessary but i gotta remember that the clean art is built on the back of the sloppy studies. and stray lines, warped perspective, and unaligned facial elements can give a lot of character to a work that might otherwise seem bland and stiff.

thank you so much for the question it was fun to take a look at my work and reflect on how i got to what i have as a style now! R&M has honestly done A TON for my art style and drawing abilities that i didn't realize till now.

Also worth mentioning bc i forget how much of my life i share w/ you guys but i also have BFA in Illustration with a focus in Animation Arts and Sequential Art.

[primofate]

Haikyuu! Drabble: When you get hurt (minor injuries)

Note: Ugggghhhhhhh I love these men. Honestly. wtf. How can you have so many good guys in one anime. Also please don’t take this as a sign that I’ll stop posting for Genshin, but you know, give me some space to hype over my other fandoms please XD

Warnings: it’s seriously just plain fluff

Characters: Kageyama, Tsukishima, Oikawa, Bokuto, Ushijima

Kageyama

“What happened to your knee?”

Is the first thing he says, his face as serious as ever, eyes looking at your bandaged knee as he approaches you in class. You laugh nervously as you unwound the school bag away from your shoulder, placing it on your desk.

“Ah, I was walking Momo-chan last night...But you know, he’s gotten so big and I guess I was a little distracted...He saw a squirrel and just went running for it and...” you trail off, feeling Kageyama’s aura change. You knew he was about to call you reprimand you, and sure enough, he says “Idiot,” just as he would to Hinata.

On closer inspection you also had a bandage around your wrist. He guessed that you tried to hold on to the leash and it dragged your hand across the pavement. 

After berating you with that one word, he wouldn’t say anything else about it. But he would, whenever he could, show some concern that you wouldn’t usually see. “I’ll take that,” he grabs your lunch box from you and you look up at him all confused as to why he’s carrying it for you today. 

But, he stops at the door of the classroom and then turns around. “Actually, let’s just eat here,” as opposed to the school rooftop where the two of you usually ate. 

And then, at the end of the school day, before you could even lift your bag over your shoulder, he’s already there and lifting it on HIS shoulder. You’re dumbfounded. “Are you going to your club? I’ll walk you first then go to mine,” 

Then it hits you. It’s because you’re hurt, and he didn’t want you to strain your knee or wrist anymore. You secretly smile but let him do what he wants. There was no stopping him when he set his mind to it after all. “Tobio-kun, you know, it’s just a scrape, I can still do things by myself,” 

“Shut up and just let me do it...” he mutters under his breath, until he drops you off to your club and goes his own way. 

And then, as your nightly routine to walk Momo-chan, you’re stunned when you see your boyfriend standing there, outside your house gates. Hands in his pockets. “T-Tobio?” 

He lived close by, but still, you didn’t expect him to be there. He snatches the leash away from you, your dog is just happily gazing at the two of you, tail swishing wildly at the fact that TWO of his favourite people are walking him today. And again, Kageyama says,

“...I need to go for a run anyway,”

Tsukishima

“Excuse me, I’m looking for a Tsukishima-san,”

A girl in the basketball team uniform appears at the doorway of the gym, all members turn to her as she bows and straightens up. Tsukishima sighs in relief. Finally an actual excuse to rest from training. 

“That’s me,” he towers over the girl, who only blinks up at him, slightly intimidated. “Ah, uh, yeah...Y/N said that you have her spare glasses?” His eyebrows perk up. Right. You were in the basketball team, for some reason he always forgot that detail. 

He turns away without a word and goes to his bag. He did, indeed, have your spare glasses. You left it at his house last time during a study session, being the airhead that you are. He retrieves it but before handing the black box to the girl, he asks. “What happened to the ones she has?” 

He wasn’t thinking much of it. Perhaps someone accidentally stepped on it, or maybe you even accidentally broke it.

"The ball hit her face,” 

“Is she--”

The words of worry practically dies on his lips. He could feel and sense Yamaguchi and Sugawara listening in to the conversation and he’d drop dead before getting caught being worried for someone. But still, this is why he always told you that you needed sports glasses. A scratch to the eye could be dangerous.

He sighs pretty loudly, and turns to face Sugawara who was off court, standing next to Yamaguchi who was also taking a small break. “Sugawara-san, I’ll be back,” There’s a big smile on his vice captain’s face, same as Yamaguchi who knew that his friend was actually worried. 

Tsukishima ignored their stupid smiles.

“Oh! Kei,” You look up as the door to the school clinic opened, you were just sitting on one of the beds, legs moving back and forth and waiting for your teammate to retrieve the spare glasses for you. Tsukishima said that he’d handle it and as he passed the black box to you he grabs your chin and turns it in his hands, looking at your eyes. 

There was a cut under your left eye that was already patched up. He releases your face when he was sure it was actually nothing serious, only to cross his arms and smirk at you. “See, I told you that hard head of yours would come in handy. Also receive the ball with your hands, not your face,”

You puff your cheeks out in annoyance and put your spare glasses on, feeling brand new. “Sure did, but my glasses aren’t as strong as my skull,” you sulked and he only blinked. “and I was taking a break! Then suddenly I see the ball coming at me, I don’t think that’s my fault!”

“I believe you. Your team has horrid ball passing skills after all,” he’s relentless with his insults but you knew that’s just the way he was. The fact that he came all the way to the school clinic told you enough about his worry. So, you ignore his last remark and smile up at him, “Thanks for checking on me, Kei,” 

He clicks his tongue but places his hand on your head, “Let’s get you new ones tomorrow, and maybe now you’ll listen to me about those sports glasses,” 

Oikawa

“She’s absent today,”

Oikawa’s face fell. You hadn’t told him anything about being sick or being unwell today. He wondered what happened. However, despite his looks and carefree personality, the Aoba Johsai captain was someone who was actually quite detailed. “In that case, can someone pass me her homework? I’ll go and deliver it to her!”

Safe to say your classmates were always surprised at how much the captain doted on you. He wasn’t always doing it openly, but at least he was thoughtful and thorough.

“Y/N-chan~ How could you leave me all alone in school today?” You could practically hear the pout from the other side of the line. He’d gone to the school grounds to get some private time to call you. 

“Sorry Toru, I can’t really walk properly. It should be fine in a few days though,”

His heart did a little leap, worry etching itself on his features. “What do you mean? What happened?”

The pout in his voice was gone, replaced by what you always called “the captain voice”. 

“I sprained my ankle...It’s a long and stupid story...” you laughed but you heard him sigh. “Well, I have no choice then. Your prince will visit you after-school today!”

You didn’t think he really would. He had volleyball practice and he took those seriously. But at 8 pm, just as you finished dinner, your doorbell rang and next thing you knew he was in your room. 

Your mother just LOVED him. Sometimes you thought even more than you. She was unaware of how hyper Oikawa actually was. He certainly knew how to play his cards right. 

“Alright princess, let me see that foot,” While you were sitting on your chair he practically bent down on on one knee and inspected it. He did kind of look like a prince like that, with his volleyball jacket. Then he suddenly plopped on the floor with his legs crossed. “AAhhhh! That sucks you won’t come to school for a few days!” He was whining again and you couldn’t help but laugh. 

Without fail, every day that you were absent, he showed up at your house after practice.

Bokuto

It’s not that you were particularly clumsy. You were actually a pretty careful person, and that’s why Bokuto always trusted your cooking skills over his. Baking a cake shouldn’t be too hard, but you were rather unfamiliar with the oven at his place.

“Mm, so, it says here to just leave it in the oven for 45 minutes!” he has this big smile on his face and you shake the batter in the round container again. The oven had already been pre-heated and when you open the door to it, hot air greets you. 

You took the round container in your hand, and push it in. It sits just at the front of the oven and you really hate it when that happens, so, with your boyfriend still focused on the recipe (and without mittens cause you think it’ll just be quick push) you try to inch the round cake pan further in with your hand. At one point, you accidentally touch the inside of the hot oven and you recoil your hand with a loud gasp. 

“WHAT?! What what what?!” Bokuto flings the recipe book away and clutches at your hand. In all honesty it didn’t hurt that much, but you had made contact on the hot surface just enough for it to sting and startle you. “Nothing Kou, I just accidentally touched the oven,” you laugh sheepishly but he’s pulling you over to the sink.

The boy is panicking.

“Water!” You’re amazed at how he even knows what to do, running water now splashing on your hand. It wasn’t even enough to burn you, it was just a little red, that’s all. “K-Kou, it’s totally fine,” 

But he turns to you with a waterfall of tears running down his eyes and his hair has deflated from it’s usual spiky style. “I-I’m so useless!” 

‘Ah there he goes,’ you think. But you’ve been trained by Akaashi how to handle these kinds of outbursts from him. “Not at all Kou-kun, you mixed the batter so perfectly. I usually get tired when I do that, but you have really strong arms! Next time I’ll let you handle the oven too, is that okay?”

He stares at you blankly for a moment. The tears have disappeared and his lips oh-so slowly curve into a smile. He gives you a thumbs up, back to his usual flair and confidence. “Of course! Leave it to me!” and he laughs triumphantly while you thank Akaashi in your mind.

Ushijima

Cooking for him and Tendo at the dorms was like a weekly routine. It was mostly for Ushijima, but Tendo liked crashing the cooking party too.

“Be careful.” Ushijima says as he passes the vegetables for you to chop. You did so without any incident. The cooking itself passes by without any incident, until your hand slip off the plate you’re holding and it comes crashing down the floor, shattering into pieces, some of the pieces flying off in different directions.

Ushijima and Tendo perks up in alarm at the sudden sound, with Ushijima being the first to rise on his feet and assess the situation. You’re about to carefully just move away from the mess you made, shards littering around your feet. “Don’t move,” Ushijima tells you, noting that you were only wearing his over-sized slippers. He sees that one of the shards has cut your foot. It was small, but since it was fresh, it was still bleeding. 

“If you move you’ll hurt yourself, wait for me,” you do as told as Ushijima first sweeps off the rest of the shattered glass with a broom, disposes of it. Next he comes to you with a new set of slippers, puts it down on the now clean floor, and tells you to carefully slip out of the ones you have on, he was cautious about the small pieces. Only when you were neatly into the new set of slippers did he clean off the rest of the glass.

Tendo only sat and watched in amusement. His captain was very thorough, even with things like that. “I’ll go and get a first aid kit~” he offered as he stood and sauntered off. “Y/N, sit over there,” he pointed at a nearby chair and you merely follow. There was no use saying no to him, you knew he just wanted to check if everything was in order.

Sure enough just as Tendo comes back with the kit, Ushijima inspects your foot, eyes scanning all around it. It seems that there was only that one cut and it’d be easy to treat. You weren’t surprised that Ushijima knew what to do, watching him take some cotton and pour some alcohol on it, muttering under his breath that it would sting a bit. 

By the end of it, the cut on your foot was disinfected and bandaged properly. “Oohhhh! Good job Wakatoshi-kun!” Tendo praised his friend for the clean job and Ushijima nodded his head with a small “Mm,”

“Thank you,” you smile up at him, “and sorry for the plate, I wasn’t paying attention,” 

Ushijima makes a thoughtful sound, perhaps a little confused by your apology “...The plate is of no great value,” he simply says “it can be replaced.”

"I can’t say the same for you Y/N, so it’s good that you weren’t gravely hurt,” The blush on your cheeks is obvious and Ushijima doesn’t understand what has you so flustered, he’s just being his honest and straightforward self. 

Tendo only laughs at the display.

Masterlist

https://primofate.tumblr.com/post/653296890583154688/masterlist-for-mobile-version-main-links

Taglist (Want to be notified when something new comes out? Sign up! I’ve added some other fandoms as well, so if you’re interested in those, fill in the form again!):

https://forms.gle/VZmJXQssHcv7YzQc6

Commissions are open on my kofi :) and there’s only a limited amount available. Make sure you read the description of what kind of commissions I do:

https://ko-fi.com/primofate

Taglist:  @coldstonecrematorium @gultonluvv @fiona782 @amigenshin @foxxtrot-116

[birdhouse-of-shadows]

today I shall drop kick another fic into your asks, but this time, make it longer than it needs to be 👍

It was Monday morning, in the middle of homeroom. Aizawa was tiredly teaching yet another lesson thrown at him by Nezu, and the students were hardly even attempting to listen. ‘Typical pain in the ass teenagers...’ Aizawa thought.

But there was one student Aizawa had his eye on. Tokoyami. Every time Aizawa saw him from the corner of his eye, the avian student was dozing off, struggling to stay awake.

“Tokoyami.” Aizawa called, looking toward his student. He heard a low mumble from Tokoyami, but no verbal response.

“Tokoyami.” Aizawa said louder, growing irritated. The other students were exchanging glances, some of them trying to get Tokoyami’s attention. Aizawa was getting very tired of waiting, so he walked up to Tokoyami’s desk, and slammed his fist down on the table.

Tokoyami’s eyes shot open, startled by the noise. He looked up at Aizawa, a slightly confused look on his face.

“What did i just say?” Aizawa asked, looking down at Tokoyami. “I-I...um...” the avian teen stuttered, struggling for words.

“What. Did. I. Just. Say?” Aizawa asked again. Tokoyami looked down, ashamed. “I...didn’t catch it.” he whispers.

Aizawa let out an irritated sigh, and rubbed his temples. “Just...pay attention for christ’s sake.” he groaned. He really was not in the mood for these pain in the ass kids. But he didn’t ignore the ashamed look that washed over Tokoyami’s visibly exhausted face.

45 minutes later, the bell rang, and Aizawa lazily dismissed the class, but before he did...

“Tokoyami. Stay after class please. The rest of you get lost.” he drawled, leaning against the blackboard. Tokoyami groggily nodded, and gathered his things.

Once everyone else was dismissed, Tokoyami made his way to Aizawa’s desk, staying silent. Aizawa stood up, and walked over to his student, and kneeled down, getting a good look at Tokoyami’s face.

“You look exhausted.” Aizawa said bluntly, putting a hand on Tokoyami’s shoulder. He could see eye bags within the student’s features, and throughout class, he looked like a walking corpse.

“I’m alright, i assure you. Just...a bit tired.” Tokoyami replied in a poor attempt to hide his exhaustion. Aizawa sighed. He knew his students inside and out. And he knew Tokoyami is stubborn enough to make up any excuse possible to keep people from worrying about him, whether he was tired, sick, or just in a shitty mood altogether. And Aizawa saw right through it.

“Don’t lie to me, kid. You look like you haven’t slept in a week.” Aizawa said, examining his student once more.

Tokoyami snorted. “Like you look any better.”

...Touché.

Aizawa hid his smirk, slightly amused. “This is different. You never look this tired. Did you sleep at all last night?” he asked. Tokoyami averted his gaze, stuttering a bit.

“I haven’t really slept at all...in...maybe five days...” he muttered. Aizawa blinked, dumbfounded. He can’t be serious.

“You can’t be serious.” Aizawa repeated. Tokoyami let out a tired grumble to no one in particular, resisting the urge to rub his eye.

Aizawa let out what would possibly be the eighth sigh that day, and gave his student a concerned look. “You need to maintain a healthy sleep schedule, especially with all the exercise you do on a regular basis. The last thing we need is for you to pass out in class. If there’s something keeping you awake, then you need to tell me.”

Tokoyami stayed quiet for a long moment, switching his gaze between his teacher, and the floor in front of him. “The reason...is foolish.” he said. The teen get out a low groan, slowly giving in to his exhaustion.

“Surely it’s not foolish if it’s kept you awake for five days straight, Tokoyami.” Aizawa insisted.

Tokoyami finally gave in to his urges and began rubbing at his eyes. A rather childish gesture, Aizawa noted, for a student who does nothing but project maturity.

Tokoyami let out a tired sigh. “For the last few weeks...I’ve been having rather...violent nightmares. I’ve had nightmares for years, but recently they’ve gotten worse and worse...to the point where I....get too afraid to sleep at all...” he trailed off, looking away in shame.

“Tokoyami...” Aizawa rubbed his student’s back reassuringly. He had met students who had nightmares. Hell, he’s even had them himself. But having nightmares violent enough to keep Tokoyami from wanting to sleep at all? He...almost didn’t want to think about it.

He looked back to Tokoyami, who was slowly nodding off, strain etched into his features as he tried to stay awake. Aizawa stood up, and put one arm around the boy’s shoulder. “You look like you’re about to drop, so let’s get you somewhere quiet so you can rest.” he propped Tokoyami up against his shoulder, and walked him to the infirmary.

Recovery Girl was less than amused to see yet another problem child who refused to take care of themselves, but was more than willing to let Tokoyami sleep in the infirmary for a bit.

The moment he lay down, Tokoyami gave into his exhaustion completely, and was out cold in minutes. Aizawa explained Tokoyami’s sleeping problem to Recovery Girl, who agreed to prescribe medication to Tokoyami to prevent any more sleepless nights.

Tokoyami was actually asleep for the entire day, not waking up until it was nearly sunset. Aizawa checked up on him every few hours, but no amount of noise or movement woke him up.

That night, Aizawa paid Tokoyami a visit before he went to sleep, giving him the medication Recovery Girl had prescribed.

“Take two every night before bed. And if you need anything, or just someone to talk to, give me a call.” he said. The student nodded, and bid him a good night.

hehe i just cant get enough of dadzawa and tokoyami, there is nowhere near enough content for this, so i might as well make it myself lmao

T-this

This is...

SO WELL WRITTEN????

ANON I LOVE THIS SM YOU DONT UNDERSTAND

I would literally pay you to make the Dadzawa and Tokoyami content for this fandom.

[thesewordsareallihavetogive]

I Used To Call You Home - Isaac Lahey x Reader

(gif source)

Summary: Isaac comes back from France after two years after leaving without saying a word. (Requested by anon: Could I have a teen wolf Isaac Lacey imagine where he comes back from France? It’s angsty but has a happy ending)

Word Count: 2660

Warnings: angst, fluff, cursing (what else is new)

a/n: hi! sorry this took so long, thanks for sending in the request anon! if i’m being completely honest i kinda like the title more than i like the actual fic (oops). but hopefully you like it and i did it justice! as always, please message me if you’d like to be added to my taglist!

masterlist

It was the last day of y/n’s first semester of college. It had gone by in a blur, really. The pack, y/n included, had still been recovering from everything that had happened with the hunters back in Beacon Hills, so to say her mind was elsewhere at the beginning of the semester was an understatement. She had finished all of her finals the day before so technically she could have already gone back to Beacon Hills, but given that her family all but disowned her when they found out she hung around with the “freaks” of the town, she wasn’t exactly eager to go home. When Scott’s mom found out that y/n was planning on staying on campus for the break she graciously invited the y/h/c to stay with them for the holidays. While y/n was looking forward to spending time with her found family, she found that now, with her classes over and almost a month of nothing ahead of her, she had more time to think about things than she’d like. 

Despite her efforts, her thoughts always wandered back to him. The one that got away. If one could even call it that, technically they were never together. But that didn’t mean it hurt any less - in fact, maybe it made it hurt more - when he left without so much as a goodbye. y/n was packing up the last of her clothes for the break when her phone rang. When she saw the name, she could’ve sworn that her heart dropped through the floor. 

Isaac.

She almost didn’t answer. She would’ve been smart not to, considering all the pain he caused her. But something inside her - the part that still loved him with every fiber of her being - told her to pick up the phone. The line was silent for a moment before she worked up the courage to say something.

“Hello?” y/n began timidly. Another beat of silence passed and she wondered if he’d called her by mistake. Or worse, as a joke. She heard him clear his throat and she let out a silent gasp as he answered.

“Hi… I’m… I’m at the airport, could you come pick me up?” Isaac said shyly. y/n could’ve been knocked over with a feather in her state of shock. He’s here. He’s in California. He’s home. On his end of the line, Isaac was almost sure that she’d hung up on him based on the lengthy silence that followed after he spoke. Though she couldn’t see him y/n knew that he was scratching the back of his neck, the way he always did when he was unsure or nervous. Before she could give herself a chance to be bitter, to be sad and resentful, to leave him hanging just like he did to her, she said yes. She was almost as shocked by her answer as Isaac was. 

“Okay… um, yeah, I’ll be there soon. Give me like 45 minutes?” she stumbled over her words as she pressed her phone between her ear and shoulder while rushing around her room to pack the last things she’d need while back in Beacon Hills.

“Great, no rush. I can’t wait to see you, y/n,” Isaac smiled warmly before hanging up the phone. y/n stood still in the middle of her room, surrounded by sweaters and leggings with her mouth wide open. I can’t wait to see you, she repeated in her head. 

“Fuck me,” she murmured under her breath as she shoved the last few items in her bag. “So much for moving on,” she muttered to herself, shutting and locking her door behind her as she left.

The drive to the airport from y/n’s college campus really wasn’t too far, much to her dismay. Sure, she was eager to see Isaac, but she was definitely not looking forward to confronting the feelings she’d been avoiding for years. As she pulled off the interstate she had to remind herself that they’d been friends since they were in middle school. They knew each other like the back of their hands. Well, they used to know each other anyways. She reminded herself that he always had her back and she always had his. Until of course, he left. No matter what she thought about, it always seemed to come back to that. He left home. He left the pack. He left her. There were some days it made her so angry that she could cry - so she did - but today it was more of a low simmer with the potential to burst at any moment. 

The moment y/n pulled up to the terminal it all seemed to fade away. The hurt, the anger, the sadness, gone. Just like that. It didn’t take long after she parked to find him in the crowd. Her blue-eyed, six-foot-two scarf-wearing best friend stuck out like a sore thumb in the crowd of shorter travelers. Her breath hitched in her throat when they locked eyes through the window. As far as she was concerned, the rest of the world ceased to exist in that moment because all she could see was Isaac striding towards her car with multiple bags in hand. She snapped out of her daze and nearly tripped over her feet as she rounded the car to greet him and help him with his things. 

Before she could say anything Isaac haphazardly dropped his bags on the ground, the safety of his belongings be damned, and wrapped his arms around her in a tight bear hug. A million scenarios had gone through y/n’s mind on the ride over but this was not one of them. Isaac buried his face deeper into her neck as y/n finally came out of her state of shock and returned the hug.

“I missed you so much,” he whispered quietly. His breath was warm, much warmer than the uncharacteristically frigid December night, and it sent a warm tingle down her spine. I missed you so much. God, she wanted to scream at the top of her lungs. She was convinced it had to be a joke, this whole thing was playing out as if she hadn’t spent an entire year putting the pieces he’d left her in back together. The worst part was that she knew him leaving had nothing to do with her. He had never meant to hurt her and she knew it would kill him if he knew how badly he did. But, she decided, that was a conversation for when she wasn’t dangerously close to getting a parking ticket for being in the terminal pick-up for too long.

“I missed you too,” y/n replied with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Isaac was instantly able to tell something was bothering her.

“Hey,” he said with a concerned smile on his face. “What’s the matter?” He genuinely cared, y/n could tell that much. She would’ve felt bad lying to him if she knew she’d get away with it, but she knew he’d be able to tell the moment the words left her lips.

“I’m fine,” she replied with her lips pressed into a thin line and an expression that Isaac couldn’t quite read. He knew something was up, but he also knew y/n. The last thing she would want is to talk about whatever was bothering her in public, so he squeezed her arm gently before effortlessly picking up all three of his suitcases simultaneously to load them in the back of her car. They were quiet for the first few minutes of the drive and a silent understanding passed between them. A lot has changed. The silence remained until Isaac glanced away from the yellow street lights reflecting off the pavement to look at y/n. She’d grown a lot in the time since he’d last seen her; her hair was darker, the bags under her eyes had faded to a lighter color and her skin was clearer. He was almost too wrapped up in rememorizing her features that he didn’t see a small tear slip down her cheek, followed by another, this one larger and faster. Almost.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” he asked, worry etched all over his face as he gently placed a hand on her arm. If she was being completely honest, y/n hadn’t even realized she’d let the tears slip out until he said something. She glanced in the rear view mirror before quickly rubbing her face with the sleeve of her oversized sweatshirt.

“What? Nothing. I’m fine,” she managed to say without her voice cracking. A small sniffle escaped but she never looked away from the road. At first Isaac was patient, he really tried to be anyway. He realized that after nearly two years of radio silence he didn’t have much of a right to come back and act like nothing had changed. But every being - supernatural or not - has their limits, so when y/n lied about her feelings for at least the second time that night, Isaac got tired of being patient.

“Pull over,” he ordered gently, looking at her expectantly and drumming his fingers on his thigh.

“What? No, I wanna get back ho- to Beacon Hills by a decent time,” she answered, only tearing her eyes away from the highway momentarily to try to read his face. He didn’t miss the way that she avoided calling Beacon Hills ‘home’ and that spurred him on even more.

“y/n, pull over, Please,” Isaac pleaded. y/n, who was really not in the mood to unpack her feelings this late at night, almost said no again. When she took in the soft look in his eyes though, she melted. Just like old times. She pulled off at the next exit and parked in the nearest well-lit area. The place was so quiet that it reminded her of a ghost town. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought of the pack’s encounter with the ghost riders. Boy, did they have a lot to catch him up on. They sat in silence again for a moment as y/n was nervously wringing her hands together in her lap while Isaac studied her face.

“What’s bothering you? Seriously? Do you know how much it kills me when you’re hurting?” he asked sincerely. y/n let out a small chuckle at that. If only he knew. She thought about deflecting again but she knew that would accomplish nothing and he’d keep them there until the early hours of the morning if she didn’t tell him what was on her mind.

“Why didn’t you say anything,” y/n murmured in a small voice. A beat of silence passed before she continued again. “I know why you left, I get that. I know you were hurting after Allison died. Hell, we all were,” y/n took long pauses every now and then and Isaac gave her all the time she needed. “I… fuck, Isaac, I don’t know how I’m supposed to tell you this,” her voice getting louder and gaining momentum with each word. Here goes nothing.

“I- I loved you, okay? I loved you and you just left without a single goodbye. I was stuck picking up the pieces of myself for almost a year and loving someone who was gone. I lost my best friend,” she rushed out before she lost the courage to say it all. “I still love you,” she whispered quietly. y/n refused to look towards her used-to-be best friend after her confession. She started to regret the words the minute she was enveloped in the silence that followed. Loved. Love. I still love you. The words rolled around in Isaac’s mind for a few moments. When they’d finally registered he lunged towards her, narrowly missing the center console as he gently grabbed her face and pulled her in for a passionate kiss. y/n honestly thought that he was going to get out of the car and walk back to Beacon Hills after her admission, so when he kissed her like he’d been waiting to for years she let out a surprised gasp and sat frozen for a moment. When she finally snapped out of her daze she returned the kiss with a newfound fervor as she threaded her fingers through his brown locks.

The pair only broke apart when their lungs were screaming for air, and by then the car windows had managed to fog up a little. y/n smiled sheepishly at Isaac, who wore a grin big enough to crack his face in two. She looked down to her lap shyly as she chuckled.

“So…” she trailed off, a little bit lost for words.

“So…” Isaac mimicked, a playful look in his eyes as a smirk danced across his face. y/n rolled her eyes and playfully slapped his arm. 

“Be nice to me, I could’ve let your ass freeze outside the airport,” she retorted, followed by a very mature display of sticking her tongue out at him.

“Oh, I think I was very nice to you,” Isaac wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. y/n groaned but nonetheless smiled at his boyish nature. The two years apart hadn’t harmed his sense of humor and y/n was grateful for that, maybe just as grateful as she was to have him back home. A few short but sweet kisses were exchanged before y/n drove back towards the highway. It wasn’t until they were nearing the exit leading to Beacon Hills that y/n realized she didn’t know where she was taking Isaac. 

“Hey, umm, where are you staying?” she asked as she flicked on her blinker before merging into the right lane. Isaac looked at her like she’d grown two heads.

“With you, to Scott’s place,” he answered, confusion written all over his face. y/n’s jaw dropped and she tried her hardest to keep from swerving off the road.

“So they knew you were coming! And they conveniently forgot to tell me! And you conveniently needed me to pick you up from the airport! What the hell?!” she ranted. Truly, y/n was far too giddy from their earlier kiss to be angry with her friends, but the little plot they had orchestrated definitely had her brainstorming ways to get back at them. Even though Isaac was unaware that the pack had kept y/n in the dark, he found her outburst a bit amusing. During the remainder of the drive to the McCall house they alternated between playful bickering and laughing at each other’s stories from the past two years.

When y/n and Isaac pulled into the driveway they sat there for a moment, basking in the warm feeling of each other's presence. The air between them was quiet for a moment before Isaac broke the silence.

“You know, there’s something I meant to say earlier,” he began as he slowly leaned toward her.

“And what would that be?” y/n asked playfully as her eyes danced around his face.

“I love you too,” he murmured sweetly before pressing his lips against hers. Joy swelled in y/n’s chest as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in closer. After they pulled away y/n nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw Scott, Stiles, and Lydia standing only a few feet away from the front of her car. Both of the boys wore knowing smirks and Lydia was swatting Stiles’s arm.

“I knew it! I knew it!” the red head squealed. Isaac chuckled as y/n’s cheeks began to burn bright red. She buried her face in his chest and he rested his chin atop her head, pressing a gentle kiss to her hair.

“I think this might have been part of their plan, too,” he whispered with a smirk.

a/n: if you saw me using italics 534988 times in this post, no u didn’t ❤

join my tag list!

tag list: @linkpk88​ 

[piscesbarnes]

Feels Right [1] → Thor Odinson au

pairing: fratboy!thor x reader

warnings: n/a

prompt: you never expected to be taken off the wait list of a school you only dreamed of attending

“Make sure you call me when you get settled in your dorm okay?” your auntie sweetly called out to you, hugging you one last time. You couldn’t help but sigh against. You really did love her, but she was such a worry wart. “I packed a peanut butter and jelly in the front zipper of your backpack, just in case you got hungry.”

“Thanks auntie,” you meekly smiled as she kissed your cheek. “I’ll call you, I promise.” you slipped out of her arms as she began to tear up. Through your windshield, you could see her shamelessly crying as she waved to you. You returned the gesture as you backed out of the driveway.

You took a deep breath, letting your shoulders drop as you prepared yourself for a good first day. You’d been on your way to University of Manhatten, a school you’d been dying to go to ever since you were little. Except when you were little, you’d only wanted to go because of how pretty the school was. Upon attending junior and high school, you’d realized they had an outstanding program for computer science and it was then the university had more than piqued your interest.

Your phone had been connected to the bluetooth on your car, so when it rang, you had no issue answering the call.

“Hey,” you answered.

“Hey (Y/N), it’s Peter. You on your way?” your best friend’s voice rang through your speakers. Peter Parker was also attending Manhatten. You two had been planning this since you were fourteen. Going to the same school and sharing an apartment together. Peter, of course, had been at the apartment for a few weeks at this point, tired of being lonely.

“Yeah man, I should be there in about 45 minutes. Traffic is heavy right now, would’ve left earlier but you know how auntie gets.” you laughed, letting him know that you weren’t actually all that annoyed.

“Hey, leave her alone, I love your auntie.” Peter defended her honor. Aunt May and auntie were quite close, good friends. Which meant Peter was as close to your auntie as you were to Aunt May. “The traffic in Flatbush is horrible, I bet you’ll make it here in about an hour.”

“Is that a challenge I hear?” you raised an eyebrow. His protests are what made you laugh; he screamed about how he was kidding and how he wanted you to be safe. “Okay, I’ll see you in thirty.

“Y/N, you asshole, no! You better not speed, I’m calling aunti-“ you hung up before he could finish the phrase. Of course you were joking, you wouldn’t deliberately put yourself in danger just to rush through New York’s traffic.

After a long drive, jamming out to Usher, you’d finally made it to your apartment in Manhatten! You were so excited. You’d visited the place multiple times and spent the night, but here you were! Moving in! Peter was on his way outside, he’d probably seen your car pulling up from the top floor. It was then that you were reminded how ripped he was; he came back and forth with your stuff without even breaking a sweat. You couldn’t even carry your bookbag and a box up the sweat without your legs cramping. Your boxes were in your room within the hour. You began to unpack the necessaries, like your outfit for the night and the day after, your sheets, your toiletries and such.

A knock on the door could be heard before Peter poked his head in. He gave you a small smile before letting himself in.

“Can I take you around campus? I know it’s the weekend and school’s the last thing on your mind but-“

“Actually, that sounds like a good idea. I’ve been thinking about school nonstop and it’d be nice to get a little background of it.” you tossed a folded shirt back into its box, brushing off your clothes before standing.

“Okay, great! It’s a close drive, but not that far of a walk. Bring a jacket.” he informed you. The nights in Manhattan were only slightly chillier than Flatbush. Especially in your area.

Peter was right. The walk wasn’t all that far, in fact, he stopped at a local cafe for a hot cocoa, ordering one for you as well. He had your schedule in his hands, making note of the classes you had together, which was about two. He was also pointing out some of the people he knew strolling around.

“That’s Michelle,” Peter’s cheeks grew a pink-tinted color. She seemed to be engrossed in her textbook.

“You should introduce me to her.” you smiled at your best friend, nudging him lightly with an encouraging smile.

“I will! Soon!” Peter said sharply, almost dropping your schedule. You approached the building left of the main one. “This is the west wing, where the majority of your classes are. For your generals, all of the classes will be on the first floor. Pretty easy to find. If you forget, there’s labels everywhere.”

You couldn’t help but notice the shouts coming from nearby on the grass. You snapped your gaze to the rowdy boys, sporting the same black track jacket with a gold embroidery lacing the top left side of their pecs. One of the boys had caught your eyes, his light brown hair was cut short, a couple lines shaved through the side of his head. He was tall and well-built. He looked godly.

“Peter...” you were easily put in a daze by the giant man. “What are they?” you were so hypnotized by them, you hadn’t realized you were drooling. Peter laughed at your reaction.

“Boys. Frat boys. Alpha Delta Upsilon. 90% of then are on a full-ride scholarship and play for our lacrosse team. The one with the dark, long hair? That’s Bucky. He trained for the military for a long time and came back. Wanted to finish school. He’s a nice guy, doesn’t say much. Then, you have Sam, the chocolachino womanizer. He’s a sweet talker; I bet he could even make you blush. Then you have Peter Quill, Quill for short. He’s the captain of the team. His girlfriend Gamora? Captain of the cheerleading squad. They’re probably the cutest couple in all of New York.”

“And what about him?” you couldn’t help but jut your chin out to the bigger fella that caught your attention.

“What, you mean the one looking at you?”

“What?!” you gasped, almost choking on air as you went back to slurping on your hot cocoa. You could see from the corner of your eyes, he indeed was looking at you.

“That’s Thor Odinson, he moved here from Australia at the beginning of the year. His dad’s the dean of the school.” Peter said like he knew it from the back of his hand. At this point, he probably did. His second major would be journalism, so it was his forte to keep up with the scoop. “He’s really nice. Talked to me a few times. He’s like a golden retriever puppy, only buffer.” you nodded your head. He was nice and good-looking, sounded like your type. “Before you ask, yes, he’s still looking.”

Instinctively, your eyes flickered away towards him. When your eyes met, it was like a light flicked on. Making eye contact with him was like seeing a color that didn’t exist. You felt stupid to feel this way for someone you’d never even spoken to, but in your gut, you felt that you shouldn’t underestimate it. The corners of his lips curved upward, exposing his perfect teeth and brightening up his beautiful eyes, one blue and one hazel. Thor’s teammates seemed annoyed with how he wasn’t listening; Sam nudged Thor with his elbow to get him to tune into the conversation. Thor gave you one last lingering glance before averting his attention back to his boys. As he turned away, you didn’t hold back on blushing, smiling to yourself as his smile was scratched into your memory like an etch-a-sketch.

“What just happened?” and there was Peter. You turned to look at him, smile still on your face.

“What?”

“Um, don’t do that with me. You know what I’m talking about.” Peter raised an eyebrow at you.

The only thing that you could think of is how you were so excited to start school.

[teamfreewill-imagine]

Stuttering Hands

Summary: You go through college pretty much unnoticed, keeping to yourself and getting on with classes, until you bump into the object of your daydreams and your college experience is changed for the better Words: 4.1k Sam x Deaf!Reader (Stanford!Era) Warnings: none

Your name: submit What is this? // <![CDATA[ document.getElementById("submit").addEventListener('click', myHandler); function myHandler() { var v = document.body.innerHTML; var input = document.getElementById("inputTxt").value; v = v.replace(/\by\/n\b|\(y\/n\)/ig, input); document.body.innerHTML = v; } // ]]>

You sighed as you watched him, a few seats away from you, take notes and listen intently to the lecturer.

He was in your Art History class, and Psychology, and American Literature.

It seemed that everywhere you went you were faced with this handsome stranger, as if the world was pushing you together.

Sam.

That was his name.

Well, you were pretty certain, anyway.

You’d never actually spoken to the guy.

People around you started to pack away their laptops and books, and you realised that you’d probably missed the bell.

You shoved your computer into your bag, picking the rest of your stuff up in your arms as you quickly made your way out of the lecture hall, furious at yourself that you’d daydreamed another class away.

Just as you crossed the threshold out into the hallway, you bumped into someone, sending books flying across the hall.

You groaned, bending down to pick them up and almost knocking heads as the guy tried to do the same.

You ignored him in favour of picking up all of your books, and it wasn’t until you were stood up that you realised he was talking to you.

And, holy shit, Sam was even prettier up close.

You focused on the movement of his lips, trying to figure out what he was saying as you came into the conversation half way through.

“...mean to, are you okay?”

You nodded, not wanting him to hear your voice if you tried to answer verbally.

“Are you sure?” he asked, and you nodded again. “You look pretty spooked.”

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes to work up the courage.

“I’m fine,” you told him, hating how the words felt in your mouth.

He nodded, looking entirely unconvinced.

“I’ve gotta go to class,” he admitted, patting your shoulder. “See you in Psych tomorrow?”

You nodded as he squeezed your shoulder and left, standing dumbly in the hallway until you realised you were in the way.

The movement of his lips was etched into your brain.

‘See you in Psych’

Was that really what he’d said, or had you misunderstood?

You’d never met before, never spoken, yet he knew who you were, knew you were in his classes.

Your mind was whirring as you made your way back to your dorm.

You’d attempted to get some work done when you got to your room, but your mind was over-active so you didn’t get much further than opening your books.

It didn’t help that, when you opened your Psychology textbook to try and get some preparation for the next class done, you saw that you’d picked up the wrong book.

Sam Winchester was written in a neat script in the top left corner of the inside front cover.

At least you had his name right.

Plus, having his book gave you another reason to talk to him.

Just the thought of talking to him, however, was giving you anxiety.

It was obvious, from the way he was talking to you earlier, that he didn’t realise that you couldn’t hear him. He was speaking to you as if you were a normal, albeit a little odd, person.

You knew that the moment he realised you were deaf, he’d treat you differently.

Everyone did, and you didn’t blame them for it, either.

You got sympathy that you didn’t want or need, or people stopped talking to you altogether because they didn’t know how to interact.

You rarely spoke aloud anymore because the only thing you could hear was your own annoying voice, and very few people on campus knew ASL. You were somewhat of a recluse, but that was okay. You’d get your degree without distraction and you’d get out of there.

This ‘Sam Winchester’ was just another distraction that would disappear the moment he found out about you.

That didn’t change the fact that you had to talk to him before your next class, though.

Unsurprisingly, your anxiety kept you up that night.

You jumped as a hand touched your shoulder on your way to class the next morning, and you were grateful that you weren’t holding any books this time.

Looking up at the owner of the hand, you sighed in light relief that it was Sam and not some stranger grabbing at you.

He frowned down at you, letting go of your shoulder to adjust the strap of his backpack.

“You okay?” he asked, and you nodded. “Only, I was calling you…”

You bit your lip, deciding to just get this over with.

“I’m deaf,” you told him, signing as you did so.

His frown turned into a smile, which caused you to frown in turn.

“Oh, so you weren’t just ignoring me?” he asked, and you shook your head.

He didn’t do the typical hearing-person thing of over-moving his mouth when he realised you were reading his lips, rather annunciating clearly and keeping the movements small and natural.

“I was starting to think you hated me,” he admitted, and a surprised laugh left your lips, making him smile wider.

“I barely know you,” you replied, willing yourself not to cringe at your own voice.

Sam didn’t even flinch, offering you his hand to shake.

“I’m Sam,” he told you, and you nodded.

“I’m Y/N,” you replied, pulling his textbook from your bag. “Wrong book.”

You were trying to get your point across in as few words as possible, but he seemed to understand anyway.

“Yeah, I picked up your copy,” he admitted, pulling yours out of his bag and swapping them. “Sorry about that.”

You shook your head, smiling.

He smiled back at you before something made him jump - the bell, maybe.

“We should get to class,” he told you. “Pearson won’t be happy if we come in late.”

You nodded, as the two of you started walking towards the right classroom.

To your surprise, Sam sat in the front row with you during the lecture, letting you copy down his notes when you got distracted or when Dr. Pearson was talking with his back to the class.

You had a dictaphone and speech-to-text software on your laptop which usually came in useful if you missed anything, but Sam helping you out meant that your post-lecture recap time would be cut in half.

You couldn’t quite believe your luck.

It became somewhat of a routine; meeting up with Sam before a class you shared, sitting together, helping each other take notes.

For the first time in the eighteen months you’d spent at Stanford, you finally had a friend; someone who treated you as equal rather than ‘less than’ because of your disability.

Three weeks after that first Psych class, Sam nudged you while you were packing up from your last class on Friday afternoon.

He waited for you to look at him before he started to speak.

“Do you want to get something to eat?” he asked. You raised an eyebrow, so he clarified. “With me?”

You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry.

“Like… a date?” you asked, hating the fact that even your hands stumbled over the words.

He shrugged, still smiling.

“If you want,” he told you. “If you’d rather go just as friends, that’s okay too.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to portray your trepidation through your expression.

“I want to take you out on a date,” he insisted, his smile losing a little hope. “But if you want to get dinner as friends instead…”

“No,” you said, and his face fell. You shook your head, frustrated at yourself. “Not as friends.”

Sam looked back at you, hope once more trickling into his expression.

“As a date?” he clarified, and you nodded.

His grin was infectious, and you couldn’t help but smile back as you put the rest of your things into your bag.

“I’ve gotta put my stuff back in my dorm,” Sam told you as the two of you walked out of the class, and you nodded, grateful that you wouldn’t have to bring your books out with you. “Meet you on the quad at six?”

You looked at your watch. That gave you 45 minutes to get ready.

You nodded, looking up at him once you got out into the hallway where you would have to split up to go to your dorms.

“Dress code?” you asked, and he shrugged.

“You look great now,” he told you, causing you to blush. “Casual, comfortable. I want it to be the real us.”

You nodded again, gasping slightly as he leaned down to kiss your cheek.

“At six,” he repeated, waiting for you to nod before smiling and walking away.

Despite what Sam had said, you changed your clothes anyway.

Nothing fancy, but you went for an unwrinkled band tee and your favourite pair of jeans.

Slipping into your boots, you looked yourself over in the full length mirror that hung on the back of your door.

You looked good - not dressy, but not quite as ‘everyday’ as usual - the jeans hugging your ass just right.

You didn’t have time to do your full ‘night out’ makeup routine, but you touched up your foundation, putting on eyeliner and mascara to try and emphasise your eyes.

You let your hair out of the braids you’d put them in all day, loving the waves they had created and spritzing some dry shampoo to add a little volume.

Grabbing your purse, you took one last look in the mirror before making your way back down to the quad.

Your heart was hammering with every step you took, the closer you got to the meeting point, the more real it was becoming.

This was your first date in over a year, your first date with a hearing person, period, and you were nervous.

The fact that Sam was drop-dead perfect and you actually wanted everything to work out with him didn’t help to ease your anxiety.

Once you stepped outside and saw him waiting, looking equally nervous, some of the anxiousness started to slip away.

He smiled as he saw you approach, running a hand through his hair in a gesture that probably helped him calm some of his nerves.

You took in his appearance, noticing that he too had opted for a slight change of clothes.

It wasn’t such a surprise, this time, when he leaned in to kiss your cheek in place of a greeting, and you managed to smile up at him without blushing too hard.

You pulled once, lightly, on the front of his jacket as you raised an eyebrow, hoping he understood what you were trying to say.

“Yeah, well you got changed, too,” he told you, and you smiled.

Right from the start, he always seemed to know what you were trying to say through your actions rather than your words.

It was a rare occasion that, when you really didn’t want to speak, he had to ask for clarification. Somehow, he understood your reservations in talking without ever asking you, and it was something that you appreciated beyond explanation.

“You look great,” he told you, and you dropped your gaze for a moment so you could hide some of your embarrassment.

“So do you,” you replied, looking up in time to see him smile.

Sam was the first hearing-person outside of your family that you allowed yourself to feel comfortable around.

The first date had gone incredibly.

You didn’t go anywhere fancy, but he made sure you got a booth towards the back so that, should you want to talk, nobody but Sam would be able to hear your voice.

You loved that he’d been that considerate that early on, picking up on your insecurities and being sure not to enhance any of them.

It was a Saturday night, four months since that first date, that you were in your dorm room with Sam beside you, watching a movie while sprawled comfortably on your bed.

The subtitles were on, of course, and Sam’s arm was around your shoulders, his cheek resting on the top of your head.

Finals were over, and you were both confident that you’d passed all of your sophomore classes, so you’d decided to have an evening in to celebrate.

You’d quickly realised that both of you were much more comfortable to stay in, playing board games or watching a movie suited you better than going out and joining the typical college scene, so this became a regular date-night activity.

Sam had chosen the movie this time, claiming that after the stress of exams you needed some light comic relief.

He wasn’t wrong.

You found yourself laughing, really laughing, for the first time in what felt like forever.

Sam, who had been slightly shaking with laughter, stopped, moving his face from resting against your hair.

You pulled in a breath, still smiling as you looked up at him.

He was smiling down at you, his eyes warm and inviting, his dimples pressing into his cheeks.

“What?” you asked, and he shook his head, pushing your hair back behind your ear.

“Your laugh,” he said, and you bit your lip.

“Too loud?” you guessed, suddenly embarrassed.

“No,” he insisted, shifting to face you so you didn’t have to strain your neck. “It’s good. I love your laugh.”

He smiled, a little shy, and you offered him the same in return.

“I wish I could hear yours,” you admitted, “Hear your voice at all.”

“It’s annoying, whiney,” he lied, trying to make light of the situation. “Why do you think I don’t have many friends?”

“Because you’re dating the weird deaf girl.”

The words stumbled out before you could stop them, and you regretted them instantly.

You hadn’t been in a situation where you could speak without thinking for such a long time, and now you wished that you hadn’t been so comfortable.

“Y/N,” Sam said, his expression almost pained as he grabbed the remote and paused the movie before looking back at you. “You… do you really think that?”

You shrugged, not trusting yourself to talk anymore.

Sam leaned in, bringing his hands to your cheeks as he pulled you in for a firm kiss.

“Nobody sees you as the ‘weird deaf girl’,” he told you, firmly.

He pulled back just far enough that you could read his lips without going cross eyed, but kept your face in his strong palms.

“Nobody thinks that,” he assured you. “I bet half the class doesn’t even know you’re deaf. I didn’t, remember? I just thought you kept to yourself.”

You nodded, bringing your hands up to hold his wrists.

He looked like he was about to cry, and you weren’t doing much better yourself.

You weren’t used to having people care for you - to your self-deprecation hurting anyone but yourself - and you hated that you’d managed to upset him.

“I had more than a year at college before I got a chance to talk to you,” Sam continued, closing his eyes as he spoke. “My lack of friends has nothing to do with you, okay?”

He opened his eyes in time to see you nod, and he pulled you in for another kiss, softer this time.

When he pulled back, he was smiling slightly, teasingly.

“It has everything to do with my whiney voice,” he told you, and you laughed softly, letting go of his wrists as he let go of your face.

“Your voice isn’t whiney,” you replied, causing him to frown in confusion. “It’s low. Probably sexy.”

You watched him let out a surprised laugh, but there was a question in his eyes that he was unsure whether to ask.

“Low frequency,” you explained, rather than waiting for him to ask. “When we… the… your…”

You didn’t know how to word what you were saying without being too crude.

You rested your hand against his chest.

“Speak,” you requested.

“Okay,” he agreed. “I’m speaking.”

You nodded, feeling the slight vibration in his chest as the words left his lips.

“So, when we’re… together,” you told him. “I can’t hear you, but-”

“You can feel it?” he asked, and you nodded.

“Lower than mine,” you told him, and he nodded.

“I wondered,” he smiled. “You’re very tactile.”

You started to blush again, a natural response whenever you spoke about the physical side of your relationship.

It had developed quickly, probably due to the fact that you were around each other every moment you could be, and it was incredible, but any conversation about it made you bashful.

“It’s good, I like it,” he told you, leaning in and kissing you again.

Your insecurities faded as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, your palm between his shoulder blades as you laid down onto your bed, Sam holding himself over you as he kissed your jaw.

He pulled back, smirking down at you as one hand trailed under the hem of your tee.

“Let’s make some noise,” he murmured, and you rolled your eyes as you pulled him down into another, deeper, kiss.

Months of dating Sam, spending almost every day together, made being apart for summer even more difficult.

He was staying on campus, his brother coming to visit for a week but the rest of the time just working, while you went home to be with your family.

You kept in contact via text and Skype; this new video calling technology that Sam had found a public beta version of.

There was often a lag, which meant reading his lips was hard, but it was good to be able to see his face a few hours a week.

Your mom had a lot of questions about your new boyfriend and, although you spoke about him modestly, she could tell you were totally infatuated with him already.

“Does he sign?” she asked you, and you shook your head.

It was weird, being at home and around someone who just naturally signed as she spoke.

You always did, even when the person you were speaking to didn’t know ASL, but other people doing it had become a rarity in your life.

“I’ve taught him small things,” you replied, not bothering to use your voice because you knew she could understand you without. “He knows his name, my name, and greetings.”

Your mom pulled a face, and you sighed.

“What?” you asked, folding your arms while you waited for her to reply.

“You deserve to be with someone who speaks your language,” she told you, and you groaned, throwing your head back.

“We’re at college. We have enough classes to deal with already,” you argued. “And he works, too. He’s busy.”

“It’s important to you,” she replied. “He should make time.”

“I can read lips,” you reminded her. “And it’s not as if deaf guys have treated me well. Let me have this, Mom. He’s a great guy.”

She agreed to drop it on the condition that she could speak with him when she took you back to Stanford in August.

Not wanting to carry on the conversation, you agreed to the conditions and shot off a text of apology to Sam.

Sam’s charm seemed to have just as powerful of an effect on your mother as it had on you.

You went out for lunch after you’d set up your dorm room, and your anxiety had been growing as their first meeting drew closer.

Sam had offered to help you unpack, but your mother had shot it down - not wanting to have a boy in your room and ignoring the obvious fact that she knew he’d been in there countless times the last semester.

Once she’d met him, though, the guard she’d put up fell almost instantly.

She was fiercely protective in a way that you couldn’t really blame her for, seeing as she’d helped you fight off ablist bullies of all shapes and sizes throughout most of your life.

However, Sam managed to break most of that away within the first two minutes of meeting.

You were sure that seeing your joyful reunion with him after weeks, months, of only seeing each other on a screen helped in some way, but his polite and gentle nature was the real winner.

By the end of your meal, they were laughing and joking together as if they were old friends.

You caught the bits of conversation that you could, your mom helping by signing while she wasn’t eating, but you were just happy to be in such good company.

When the bill arrived and Sam reached for it, your mom playfully slapped his hand away.

“Don’t be silly,” she told him. “You’re a college student. I’ve got this.”

“Are you sure?” Sam checked. “I’ve been working all summer-”

Your mom deliberately blocked her lips as she interrupted him, saying something that made Sam blush and nod in defeat.

“That was mean,” you complained, nudging your mom’s foot under the table.

She shrugged, unwilling to explain what she had said as she smiled at the waiter to take your payment.

Your mom left that afternoon, hugging you tight and reminding you to text and email her at least once a week, to let her know that you’re alive, before getting in her car and starting the drive home.

Almost as soon as she was gone, you got your phone out to text Sam and tell him to come up to your room.

You mean my new best friend is gone already?

You rolled your eyes at his response, typing out your reply one handed as you let your hair down from its bun.

I mean you can get your cute ass up here so I can kiss you properly for the first time in forever.

You threw your phone down onto your bed, quickly changing your clothes into sweatpants and a comfortable tank before grabbing your cell once more.

You’re being dramatic

But sure

Open up, drama queen.

You laughed, putting your phone down on your desk before opening the door to him.

“Who are you calling ‘drama qu-’”

Sam cut off your teasing jibe with a kiss, and you melted into him straight away.

You stepped backwards, still kissing him as you moved further into your room, letting him kick the door closed behind him.

You laughed softly, breaking the kiss, as his hands playfully squeezed your ass, stepping away and lightly slapping his chest.

“How’s that for a proper kiss?” he asked, and you grinned.

“That was great,” you answered, earning a grin in response.

“I’ve... “ he didn’t finish his sentence, making you frown as he motioned for you to sit on your bed.

“What?” you asked, but he just shook his head, standing in front of you.

The rise and fall of his chest told you that he was taking a few deep breaths, your concern growing as he closed his eyes.

“Don’t judge me, okay?” he requested, opening his eyes once more as he raised his hands from his sides.

“Hello,” he signed, his hands shaking slightly. “My name is Sam Winchester.”

You smiled.

“You’re getting fast at spelling,” you told him as he paused after his surname.

He smiled weakly but didn’t stop, mouthing the words he was signing now.

“I study at Stanford University. I am trying to be a lawyer. I have a girlfriend.”

You were grinning as you watched his stuttering hands show you what he wanted to say, pride welling in your chest as he carried on.

“Her name is Y/N,” he continued. “She is beautiful, and she is shy. Her voice is the best sound I have heard. She thinks I lie, but her laugh is beautiful. I have taken ASL class all vacation to learn to tell her this.”

He paused, clenching and unclenching his fists as he took another deep breath.

“I love you, Y/N.”

Your heart was racing as you got to your feet, stepping towards him.

“I love you, too,” you breathed, smashing your lips against his.

You could feel yourself begin to cry, your eyes filling with tears of joy as you broke the kiss and buried your face in his neck.

Sam’s strong hand rubbed circles into your back until you pulled back, smiling wide up at him.

“You took classes?” you asked, and he nodded as he pushed some of your hair behind your ear. “For me?”

“I wanted to learn your language,” he explained. “I wanted to show you how much you mean to me.”

You took his face in your hands, pulling him into a soft, loving kiss.

“I love you so much, Sam Winchester,” you whispered, your lips brushing his as you spoke.

He pulled back, just enough to remove his arms from around you and free his hands.

“I love you, too.”

Tags: @wicked-gen, @jessilliam-caronday, @redeyed-winchester, @danijimenezv, @thelittleredwhocould, @i-worship-food, @howling-at-that-moon, @sunflowerbouqet, @samwillchest, @justme-noonebutme, @starswirlblitz, @its-a-pair-o-docs, @ihavesympathyforthedevil, @prideandprejudiceandbrendonurie, @latishiante1001, @kittycat-cas, @typicalweirdbookworm, @cdg174, @hillface89, @taritrash, @mereka18, @ellietvdmad, @blacksiren, @ruined-by-destiel, @latinenglishfandomblog

[cherrycxsmos]

Singularity

I wake up to the sound of my alarm blaring at 6:29 in the morning. Letting out an exhausted yawn I force myself out of bed. A shiver runs through my body as my feet touch the cold marble floor. I trudge over to the bathroom, hitting my pinky toe on my desk chair in the process. A small hiss left my lips and I limp to the bathroom, turning on the light. The brightness of the light has me temporarily shielding my eyes as my pupils get used to the change. I glance up at the mirror and I catch sight of my tired, worn out, and annoyed appearance since I was robbed of my 1 minute of sleep. Baggy eyes, disheveled afro, dried up drool at each corner of my mouth. I let out a quiet chuckle and turned on the water faucet so I could wash my face and brush my teeth.

 It’s too quiet. 

“Alexa, play my k-pop music box playlist, volume to 3”, I said loud enough for the speaker to hear but quiet enough that it wouldn’t disturb the rooms that surrounded mine. The soft music played through my room as I finished getting ready for the day. 

By 9 am I was ready for my first class of the day, but I would rather stay in bed. I sigh and begin to walk out the door when I receive an email from my professor. “Class has been cancelled. Please work on the assignment that is written on the syllabus and prepare it for the next class.” Overcome with immense joy, I step back inside of my apartment and return to my room. I throw my bag onto my chair and climb on to my bed. I grab my koala stuffed animal and cling on to it as an actual koala would cling and the warmth of my blanket makes it easy for me to fall into a euphoric state of sleep.

  Wake up…

Wake up…

Wake up…

“Lorelei wake up...” I awake to the feeling of someone shaking me. I stretch and yawn, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes and see that it’s my best friend and roommate, Hani. 

“Eonni... You’re gonna be late to your Korean class. Get up.” Hani says with an annoyed tone and her arms crossed. I check the time and oh my goodness it’s almost noon. I shoot up from my bed and grab my bag from my bean bag chair.

 “Do you think I will have enough time to get food?” I ask, “Class doesn’t start for another 45 minutes.” She shrugs and sits down at her desk.

 “If you hurry up and get there in the next…” She pauses to look at her watch and continues, 

“15 minutes, you should be fine.” I shoot her a thumbs up before putting on my pink fluffy slides and rushing out of the dorm. 

As soon as I step outside, the warm summer air greets me. It’s not terribly hot outside like it has been for the past few days. Should I get a snack or an actual meal? I look at the time seeing that I only have about 20 minutes before my next class starts. It looks like I’ll only have time for a snack. I walk briskly to the nearest corner market. Walking into the store, the smell of fresh bread fills the air and I see that a line of about 5-6 has formed in front of the cashier. I make a beeline straight to where the kimbap and the egg sandwiches are and I take one of each. By the time I get to the line, it has gone down to 3 people. I stand in line for 5 minutes before I’m next and I quickly pay for my food and hurry back to campus. 

As I walk into the building, a group of students that are in my class are standing outside of the classroom waiting for the door to be unlocked. There are some students talking about a party happening this weekend and their plans after this class, while others are stressing over a grade they got on their test in their last class. I lean my body against the wall and close my eyes, still tired from my nap, when I feel someone tap my shoulder. I open my eyes partly and turn my head to see my classmate that I am pretty good friends with, Eden.

 “Are you feeling alright?” Eden questions with concern etched over her face.

 I nod and stand up straight. “I’m just drained.. if I could drop out, I would but my parents would kill me. And I’d honestly give anything not to be in this class right now.” I reply with a chuckle. Eden nods and looks around my shoulder, pointing at the students that are filing inside of the classroom. 

“Lets go, the door is unlocked.” She moves towards the classroom. Following her into the room, I see a few new students and the most alluring guy catches my eye. I find myself staring and we make eye contact for half of a second before I look away. I quickly walk to my seat next to Eden and set my food down on the desk.

 “Hey… Eden… Did you happen to see the new guy?” I ask her in a voice loud enough for only her to hear. She scans the room with a confused look on her face. 

“Which one?” She asks. Before I can utter another word she notices. “Ohhhhh him?” She says loud enough for the whole class to hear. My eyes widen in sheer panic. I take a quick glance around the room to see if anyone heard her and I made eye contact with the new boy again. 

My face begins to heat up and I turn away from him utterly mortified. “Pipe down!” I exclaim as I cover my face with my hands in embarrassment and Eden suppresses a laugh.  I fan my face to ease the heat from the embarrassment I have been subjected to. As soon as I calm down, I put my kimbap in my bag and unwrap my sandwich, taking a bite out of it. 

 The surrounding chatter from the other students starts to die down as soon as our professor walks in. I internally groan. This man is the definition of boring. He sets his stuff down on the podium and starts his lecture. 

 “Good afternoon class. Today you will be starting on a presentation, and it has to be on something that we haven't learned about already in this class. Since this is beginner Korean, I’m not going to have you do it all in Korean. You guys can do it over the history of Korea itself, or pick an era during the Korean Kingdoms. I am going to pair you guys up. This project is due by the end of the semester so work diligently on it.” He then clears his throat to begin to call out our names and assign pairs.

 “I hope he partners us up together.” Eden whispers to me. I shrug knowing better than that. “I highly doubt it,” I respond between bites. ‘“Eden Yaloussi and Rylee Lambert…. Lorelai Beaulieu and Leo Castillo…” He starts to list monotonously. Leo Castillo? Who is that?

 “... Winnie Lau and Helena Brown… I think that's everyone. Please go ahead and break out into your pairs.” He sits his paper down and saunters up to the board to write our due date. I looked over to Eden, who is already packing up her stuff to move.

 “Do you know who Leo Castillo is?” I ask her as I take the last bite of my sandwich. She shakes her head. 

“That would be me.” Someone voices.

I shift my gaze to the boy that just walked up and is now standing beside Eden.  It's the new guy. Now that he is up close, he’s taller than I had originally thought. Eden quickly shuffles away and I stand up to greet him. 

“Hi, I’m Lorelai.”

“I’m Leo.” He responds back with a smile. I sit back down in my seat and gesture to the seat next me beckoning him to sit down. He moves to sit down next to me and the warm smell of his cologne wafts to my nose and intoxicates me. 

“So… I think we should do our project on the Goryeo Dynasty. There’s a lot of information on that time and we can even focus on one of the many popular kings.” I suggest and he just nods along. I glance at him and take note of tanned skin and scattered freckles along his cheeks. 

“I’m free after this class if you want to get started on it. We can meet in the library. ” He says and I nod in agreement. I write down our topic, as well as the due date that our professor had written up on the board. 

I start packing my stuff and peek up at Leo and see that he has focused his gaze elsewhere.  “Do you want to walk together to the library?” 

He shifts his gaze back to me and awkwardly laughs. “I thought that’s what we were going to do anyways.”

“Well I didn’t want to assume.” I laughed.

Soon after, the professor ends class and students begin filing out of the classroom. I pick up my book bag and turn to Leo who was packing his things.

“Ready?” I ask him

“Yeah, let’s go.”

With that, we walk out of the room and out of the building towards the library.

As we walk, the sound of other students' conversations fills the air and the sensible smell of magnolias and freshly mowed grass surrounds us. 

“So.. since we are partners, I guess it’s only customary that I get to know you a bit better.” I recommend, peeking up at him. 

He lets out a chuckle and nods. “Okay. What do you wanna know?”

“Anything.. Like where are you from? What’s your major?”
“Hollister, California and I used to major in Computer Science but I changed my major to International Affairs. What about you?” He asks.

“Me? Well.. I’m from Vancouver, Washington and I major in Business. And I guess that explains why you’re in Beginners Korean” I respond back to him.

He nods his head and hums quietly. The rest of the walk to the library is silent between us, only the sound of the birds chirping and cars passing by in the distance could be heard. Five minutes later, we reach the library and Leo holds the door open, allowing me to walk in first.

As I walk in, the familiar woody smell of the building as well as the scent of old books fill my nose. I lead Leo to an emptier area of the library and find a table big enough for us to spread our belongings out on. I set my book bag down on top of the table and take out my kimbap. 

“Would you like some?” I ask Leo, knowing it would be rude for me to eat in front of him without offering. 

He shakes his head. “No thank you. I ate before class.”

I shrug and sit down, pulling out my notebook and a pencil. “Okay.. So I know the basics of that era. It was founded by Wang Geon, who would be the first ruler of the dynasty, he unified the majority of the other kingdoms under Goryeo, and he had a lot of political reforms. That’s about it.” I twiddle my pencil in between my fingers and sigh. Leo takes a seat across from me and takes out his laptop. “Well that’s somewhat of a start. The only ruler I really only know about is Wang So… Well Gwangjong because of that one Korean drama. Scarlet Heart I think it’s called” He chuckles. I look at Leo in utter amazement. He looks back at me with a clueless look on his face. “I know that drama too.” I tell him in an excited whisper. He grins and we begin to talk about how one character was done wrong, completely forgetting about the reason we came to the library in the first place. I find myself staring at him as he spoke, taking into account the tiny details that I missed when I first came in contact with him. The raspiness of his voice, his emerald green eyes, and his honey coloured hair.  

Lorelai..

“Lorelai.. Earth to Lorelai…” Leo waves his hand and front of my face and I jolt up. 

“I am so sorry. I zoned out for a second. It happens a lot… too much if you ask me..” The feeling of embarrassment washing over my body. “Let’s… Get back to work.”

We worked this way everyday until it was our time to present. During this time, we got to know more about each other. We even spent time together outside of working on the project. I started to notice the little quirks that he had and he probably didn’t notice that he had them. Like the way he would tilt his head whenever someone confused him. He told me that  isn’t the type to get angry and he is rather patient. We learned about each other's likes and dislikes during the month we worked together and it made us closer than we thought. I 

--

Finally, it was the day of our presentation. 

At 6:30 am, I wake up to the sound of my alarm blaring.  I force myself out of bed and hobble over to the bathroom, being careful not to hurt myself like I usually do every morning. I do my usual morning routine of brushing my teeth and skincare. My professor for my 8 am class cancelled again so this gives me more time to do my hair and makeup. I also make sure to eat breakfast so I am not rushing to get food before class.

A few hours later, I was ready for class. As I am leaving the room, Hani walks in with a look of glee on her face.

“Well well well.. I don’t think I have ever seen you this happy.” I backtrack and see how happy she really looks .

“I just got an A on my project for European history and an A on my statistics and marketing exam!” She exclaims as she plops down on her bed.

“Congratulations! I know you needed those two As in order for you to pass the class right?”

She nods and sighs out in sheer joy. “Now my parents won’t be on my tail about failing.”

“That’s true.. Well I have to get going now, I’m going to be late.” I say to her and before I can leave, she stops me.

“Eonni… You haven’t told him yet have you?” She questions.

I let out an embarrassed giggle. “No.. but I will today.. after class..” I respond back and scurry out of the room before she can say anything else. Walking out of the dorm, the smell of burnt charcoal from a barbeque fills my nose and the warm summer air touches my skin. Thankfully I picked out the right clothes for the weather. I travel to the building where my class is in and see that people have already gone inside. I stroll inside of the classroom and see that Eden and Leo were already seated. I wave at Leo and move to go sit in my seat beside Eden.

“So… have you told him yet?” Eden asks before I can get comfortable.

I sighed. “I’m going to tell him after class.”

She looked at me with a determined demeanor. “You better. You have to say something before it’s too late.” 

She’s right… 

Moments later, the professor walks in and sets his stuff down on the podium, starting his lecture.

“Today you guys will be presenting. We will have two pairs go today and 2 pairs go next class.” He pauses briefly, looking at his list. “First up is Lorelai and Leo. Their presentation is on the Goryeo Dynasty.” 

Leo and I move from our seats and up to the front of the class. Leo goes to the computer to pull up the powerpoint presentation. 

Leo moves to stand next to me once the powerpoint is pulled up.

“Hello my name is Lorelai.”

“And my name is Leo. Our project is on the Goryeo Dynasty.”

We spend ten minutes presenting, talking about the major accomplishments of the Goryeo Dynasty as well as some key figures. We finish with a bow and walk back to our seats. “Leo.. I need to talk to you after class. It’s important.” 

Glancing over at him, I watch him look down at his phone and his expression changes from a neutral expression to one of seriousness. He looks over at me and I quickly look away.

Fifteen minutes go by and the pair is done presenting, they go back to their seats and the professor comes back up to the podium. “Thank you to the two pairs that presented. That was very informational. Alright guys.” The professor says with a yawn. “I’ll see you guys next class. Be safe.” 

The students begin to file out of the class and I see Leo follow everyone out of class. I get up from my seat and say my goodbyes to Eden and a few of my other classmates before walking out of the classroom. 

“Lorelai!” I hear a familiar voice call out. 

I turn to see that it’s Leo and a wave of anxiety floods over me.

 How am I going to tell this guy that I like him? 

“You said that you had something important to tell me?”

“Yeah.” I take a deep breath and exhale. 

Now is the time to tell him… I can’t wait any longer.

“Leo… The time that I spent with you has made me the happiest person and I just wanted to tell you that I like you..” I blurt out.

He’s silent and another wave of anxiety washes over me. 

“Say something… Anything..” I say and I begin to lose the bit of confidence I had left. 

A/N: Should I continue?

[nickgoesabroad]

2 - New York City

Song of the Week: Perfect Places by Lorde

People tend to be weirdly surprised when I say that I’ve never been to New York City. “You have to go,” or “There’s nowhere like it, it’s incredible.” or “Nick, when are you going to come visit me at Barnard I need to show you New York.” When I say people, 90% of them are Sophie Kreitzberg.

Sophie and I met in 7th grade, technically pre-Algebra but our ~connection~~ didn’t form until we were both cast in equally important roles: her, the female lead, and me, the Rabbi’s son, in our school’s production of Fiddler on the Roof, Jr. (yes, it was the junior version). I had 7 lines and Sophie had 100+ and a few songs, so, you know, equal. We had a natural bond that came, I think, from the fact that Sophie seemed to be everything I wanted to be but was scared that I couldn’t: fearless, loud, wore stripes with polkadots, could sing, could act, took the classes I wanted to take, a confidence that warmed up every room she was in; I had a deep admiration for her, and she, inexplicably, wanted to be my friend as well (I’m not being self-deprecating for the fun of it, I was a gross, pimply, had-never-shaved-but-really-needed-to, wore Crocs unironically, wore fleece gray sweatpants, had bangs, my voice was cracking, deodorant was something I put on for ~special~ occasions, you get the picture, and if you don’t, here are some actual pictures)

I’m not sure what was happening, either.

Anyways, we quickly became fantastic friends (2 screens, 1 computer) and 7 years later it’s only strengthened. I decided that since I was already on the East Coast visiting Danny, it only made since to also visit Sophie. Just kidding, we bought tickets to Lady Gaga’s Joanne World Tour back in February so this was a long time coming. I got on a train in Boston, headed south for New York.

(This was also the moment I realized I left my laptop at Danny’s apartment) 

The train let me see a good portion of the Northeast: a view that I rarely get an opportunity to see. It was very green, lots of boats, open spaces, and two men sitting in front of me discussing the stock market. After four and a half hours, we pulled out of the lush green countryside of the Northeast into New York.

I felt like I’d been to New York due to how many movies and TV shows (like, every single one) taking place there, but it still felt surreal pulling up to the city, seeing the skyline, and realizing that the city actually exists.

I don’t want to sound like a BFA-guy-trying-to-impress-everyone-with-his-sense-of-the-world, but when I stepped off the train, it felt like nothing I’d previously experienced. The city was moving at a pace at least ten times that of what I’m used to. Everyone was going somewhere, had a goal, someone to see, hopes, dreams, ambitions (not to say that only people in New York have those things, but it was uniquely tangible). I got in an Uber headed straight for Barnard College. My driver told me about nearly every building we passed and its relation to his family (oh, I was in that building once, etc.), including a long strip of buildings that he identified as, “All owned by Trump!”

“Wow.” I said.

He dropped me off outside what looked like one of those places that’s a Taco Bell but also a Pizza Hut at the same time except instead of Taco Bell and Pizza Hut it was a FedEx and a ShakeShack which was an even weirder combination than Taco Bell and Pizza Hut and legitimately my first thought was, “Oh, I guess this is what Barnard is...”

I thought Barnard was a Shakeshack/FedEx.

I was then greeted in the lobby of her building by Sophie who guided me upstairs to her shockingly large apartment. I was under the impression that every place to live in NYC was the size of a glove compartment, but this apartment had hallways, a decently sized bathroom, a great, bright kitchen, and nice rooms. I met Perry, Sophie’s then-girlfriend, who I’d heard so much about but had yet to meet. Perry was holding on to my Lady Gaga ticket, and after discussing how high school theater is pioneering the gay-rights movement and doggo culture ruining modern society, we were on our way to the concert.

I’d always heard about New York pizza and was slightly skeptical about how good could it really be. We walked across the street to a place that claimed to have the largest slices in the city, and I’m inclined to believe them.

That’s a really big slice of pizza.

Sophie and Perry informed me that the pizza there wasn’t known for its outstanding quality, but rather as the best place for Columbia students to go on drunk nights. It tasted great to me, so I can only imagine what some alcohol would do to enhance the experience. Sophie (despite being lactose intolerant) and I contemplated getting a second slice because we’re insane, but Perry reminded us that the concert was in 30 minutes so we should probably get on the 45 minute subway ride.

Riding on the New York subway system felt like a rite of passage and I was a little anxious the entire time that I wasn’t “riding the subway correctly,” as if people were looking and judging me. As we got closer and closer to Citi Field, the subway car got gayer and gayer with more extravagant outfits coming in by the stop. 

Me and Sophie went to a Lady Gaga concert in January of 2013, our sophomore year of high school. I wasn’t out to anyone except 3 friends, my sister, and my therapist, but as Sophie and I discussed on the subway, she was expecting me to come out to her at that concert (during Born This Way, specifically). I had no such agenda planned, because, hey! Straight dudes go to Lady Gaga concerts when they’re 16 with their friends who are girls!! Right? Right. 

I rarely talk publicly about my sexuality (except for that time it was the subject of my high school graduation speech), but I have to say, going to a Lady Gaga concert as an out gay man is so much more enjoyable than being in the closet. It’s a legitimately accepting environment where no one’s looked down on for being themselves, and everyone’s just there to enjoy the music.

The concert was, as expected, spectacular and everything I expected. My voice was hoarse and my spirits soaring when we left Citi field and made our way to a (possibly?) 24/7 diner. 

This place had a neon sign that said “Open 7 Days a Week, 24 Hours a Day”, which would, you know, imply that they’re always open. So, we sit down, really hungry after expending all of our energy on Gaga. I order a somewhat absurd amount of food (hashbrowns, pancakes, eggs, bacon, cranberry juice, coffee, etc.), and after we order, the waiter (65+, Eastern European, frown etched on his face) goes to take our menus.

“Oh,” I said. “I’d actually like to hold on to it, if that’s ok. In case I want more later.”

“If you want to order later you have to order now.”

So he takes my menu and the three of us are doing our best to not burst out laughing at being told that this place that never closes will not be taking orders later. It was really bizarre.

The waiter returned with my coffee after forgetting to bring it out with everyone else’s drinks (at this point we’re ~99% sure he hates me), and I kid you not, he doesn’t stop walking while putting my coffee on the table. He was walking at a steady pace and did not slow down at the rest stop that was our table. At this point we’re laughing hard, the kind of laugh you can only achieve past one in the morning. 

We went to (I think?) Brooklyn Bridge park to look at the skyline, which was irritatingly, beautifully, cliché. It was exactly and nothing how I imagined it would be. We walked across the Brooklyn Bridge and I remembered a scene from Kate & Leopold, a Meg Ryan and Hugh Jackman movie I watched with my family several times when I was younger. Characters who jumped off the bridge at a certain point exactly at midnight were transported through time. And I was walking across this portal. 

Sitting at the subway platform, trying not to pass out, Sophie, Perry, and I were greeted by a 10-minute rant-but-possibly-performance-art-I’m-not-quite-sure-what-was-happening from this lady who seemed to be asleep when we sat down but was awoken by some external, ethereal force that summoned her to impart otherworldy wisdom on us; topics ranged from Crony Capitalism, Prostitution, to the, as Perry hilariously put it, less original content such as, “If Facebook told you to jump in front of the train you would do it.” 

As we were walking away, Sophie said, “I kind of loved it, it was like spoken word, you know? It had like a refrain, changed narrative perspectives a few times, really kept me on my toes.”

I think about that woman daily. 

We got three hours of sleep that night (morning?), and Sophie and I said a flash-goodbye since she was running late to a meeting. I sat in Starbucks for like 5 hours before making my way back downtown to the bus station that would take me to Stewart International Airport, where a Norwegian Airlines’ plane was waiting to take me across the Atlantic... 

[othersportsnews-blog]

Cursed by the overall body that was his blessing, Greg Oden is headed back again to Ohio State

New Post has been published on https://othersportsnews.com/cursed-by-the-overall-body-that-was-his-blessing-greg-oden-is-headed-back-again-to-ohio-state/

Cursed by the overall body that was his blessing, Greg Oden is headed back again to Ohio State

This is a tale from ESPN The Magazine’s Entire body Situation 2017, on newsstands on July seven. Subscribe today!

GREG ODEN HAS a recurring dream. He is actively playing defense for the Path Blazers. He blocks a shot and passes to the outlet and sprints downcourt, light and speedy and strong. He is 3 many years taken off from his previous NBA appearance now, seeking to develop a new existence out of the lows of his previous one, but in the dream he can nevertheless perform. He can nevertheless run. He glides to the paint, catches a return go and dunks. Coastline-to-coast. The crowd explodes. He feels a sweet rush of adrenaline. Fans really like him, and he enjoys himself — all pleasure and no disgrace.

ODEN IS IN the lobby of the tutorial support center on the Ohio State campus on a late-May well morning, registering for lessons to end the diploma he begun a decade ago. He lived in a dorm a block away at the time. He remembers returning to Columbus following a Final Four run ended in a countrywide championship reduction to Florida in 2007. Most assumed he would leave for the NBA, but he arrived back again to go to class. “I by no means prepared on leaving,” he claims. Students waited for him exterior his dorm. Autos stopped on the street to stare. It took him 45 minutes to wander one block. Oden called his mentor, Thad Matta, and claimed, “I can’t get to class.” A number of months later, Oden declared that he would leave for the draft, one of many selections in his existence that wasn’t genuinely his to make. Now, ten many years, 3 main knee surgeries and a unsuccessful career later, Oden comes at the tutorial support center unnoticed and unbothered, his load no lengthier walking to this creating but alternatively walking up it.

The Entire body 2017 image portfolio is dwell! And for a lot more Entire body stories: Tim Keown on Jameson Taillon » Peter Keating on woman concussion investigation »

3 FLIGHTS OF stairs. That’s what he is on the lookout at to arrive at his adviser’s workplace. At 29, Oden can’t leap like he applied to — he can’t leap at all off his correct leg — but he swallows 50 % a flight of stairs in his very first step. He carefully grunts. His overall body is hurting and scarred, but he actually looks young. It applied to be the reverse. In superior school, the deep creases near his eyes led some to suspect he was more mature than his confirmed age. Even then, with a seemingly limitless potential, he struggled less than the pressure placed on him by his overall body, by what it seemed capable of, by the way it dictated to him. He was heading to perform basketball. He was heading to be a superstar. He was heading to take treatment of his family. He was heading to be a Corridor of Famer.

The pressures grew when his overall body unsuccessful him. About the course of a decade, he made a dependence on painkillers and alcohol to snooze, and he was arrested on domestic violence rates. Oden is now a college student once again, with a fiancée and nine-month-old daughter, nevertheless processing getting at the center of a mania and disappointment to which number of American athletes can relate. He reaches the major of the very first flight of stairs at the tutorial support center, respiratory also really hard for the length, and claims, “Useless lifts are catching up to me!”

At Lawrence North in Indianapolis, Oden received 3 consecutive championships and was a two-time Parade All-American. Brian Bahr/Getty Illustrations or photos

THE Working day In advance of registering for lessons, Oden is in the fat area at the Jerome Schottenstein Center on campus, where he when performed and now will help the basketball team as a college student assistant mentor. He destinations just two 45-pound weights on a bar — “I have bought absolutely nothing to show,” he jokes with a shrug — and deadlifts it, bending and straightening his fragile knees. In in between sets, he describes himself as the “most significant bust in NBA history,” as if indicating it out loud will give him some kind of dominion around the suffering of it. In advance of the NBA, Oden by no means had a major knee damage. Not at Sarah Scott Center University in Terre Haute, Indiana, where he very first worked really hard at basketball. Not at Lawrence North in Indianapolis, where he received 3 consecutive championships and was a two-time Parade All-American. And not throughout his solitary time at Ohio State, where he was a very first-team All-American.

Two lifts into an additional set, a thing is off.

“Mentor!” Oden hollers, dropping the bar and easing himself to the ground right until he lies flat on his back again. Dave Richardson, Ohio State basketball’s longtime toughness mentor, runs out of his health club workplace. He crouches down and lifts Oden’s correct leg, carefully shaking his foot, then pulling really hard as if he ended up tugging a rope, his face reddening, Oden wincing for pretty much a moment just before they equally come to feel a pop of reduction.

However sweating, Oden describes that when he was in sixth quality, he grew so volcanically — six inches in considerably less than a year — that his correct hip detached from its socket. After surgical procedures to spot two pins in the joint, Oden enjoyed swinging his gangly legs on crutches down the hallways at school. But while the procedure worked, it remaining his correct leg 8 millimeters shorter than his remaining. He walked with a bit of a dip, leaving people today to think that he was strutting, performing really hard. About time, his overall body adjusted, but the hip necessary the occasional large tug when it jammed.

After Oden was drafted very first total by the Path Blazers in 2007, one pick in advance of Kevin Durant, the team outfitted him with a distinctive orthotic insert to even his legs. “3 months later, I am in surgical procedures,” he claims. Oden can’t show that the orthotic is the sole reason his overall body collapsed in the NBA. The wheels ended up in movement for his overall body to tumble aside the second he strike his very first development spurt on the way to seven toes. Almost everything in his existence since has been governed by it.

“And now I am back again here,” he claims at the health club, “seeking to determine it all out.”

The Heat signed Oden in 2013, but he performed sparingly that time, and the team permit him wander. Andrew D. Bernstein/NBAE/Getty Illustrations or photos

Midway UP THE stairs, Oden slows for a second just before he hits the last stretch. He is a little bit hunched around and for a second isn’t going to feel that tall — then he straightens himself and you question how any person ever bought a shot off. He is donning his have shoe: Nike dimension 19 in the Path Blazers shades of white, pink and black, a symbol of his previous identify etched into the heel. When an embodiment of a dazzling basketball potential, it is really now a relic. Oden’s close friends fearful when he was drafted by Portland, not just due to the fact he had to transfer to the Pacific Northwest following paying out most of his adolescence in the Midwest. His identity generally seemed miscast for his overall body. He was an introvert — a self-described loner who “goes with the movement” — who had pictured himself as one working day getting a dentist or a motion picture critic. There was a lingering unhappiness you felt in his organization a decade ago, a fragility as he told you he felt “envisioned and obliged to be the best.”

Oden generally had experimented with to reckon with what his overall body was and could be, its power and prospective. When he was a seventeen-year-old junior, he drew up a plus-minus checklist about irrespective of whether to enter the NBA draft or go to college or university. NBA: “Set for existence. Perform in opposition to the best. Could be all-time primary scorer.” College or university: “Enjoyable. Acquire countrywide title? Love Ohio State.” He lunched with Kevin Garnett and bowled with Peyton Manning and rode in a limo with Baron Davis. But he also “required to conceal and required to be a child,” claims Reginald Shelt, an assistant mentor at Lawrence North in these many years. Oden could not disappear off the court, so he sometimes would try to do so on it, content to rebound and block shots. Jack Keefer, Lawrence North’s head mentor, instated a fifteen-touches-a-game rule for him. “He by no means required to be a basketball participant,” Shelt claims. “That wasn’t his point. Sure, he performed basketball. But basketball did not determine him in his head.”

Previous Ohio State assistant Alan Main remembers a leap shot Oden built in opposition to Georgetown in the Final Four due to the fact it was the Buckeyes’ 38th game and Oden had taken just a handful of jumpers all year. GMs nitpicked that Oden did not dominate the way a seven-footer must, but a perceived pink flag was actually a teenager’s coping system. “He genuinely necessary to be five-eleven and a bookworm,” 
Major claims.

When Oden bought to Portland, his isolation wasn’t just that of the introverted. It was the isolation of the injured. His knee damage following donning the orthotics wiped out his very first time. At the commencing of his next year, the team gave him an insert so thick that it pushed his correct ankle earlier the rim of his superior-tops. 13 minutes into his regular-time debut, he sprained his correct foot and missed two months. 3 and a 50 % months later, he chipped his remaining kneecap and missed 3 a lot more months.

As Oden’s overall body broke, so did his head. Worried of getting photographed in general public undertaking something but rehabbing, he would not leave dwelling, which shortly turned into not leaving his bed room. “I experimented with to get in my have small cocoon,” he claims. He would lie in mattress all working day, residing with the boring stress that he was the Sam Bowie to Durant’s Michael Jordan. “You might be a bust and you can’t do absolutely nothing about it,” he claims now. “I am sitting there viewing all these men get far better.” Oden went to a dim spot. In advance of he had turned 21, he’d grown applied to consuming on your own — there are no phony IDs for popular seven-footers — and now all of the vices that had been creeping into his existence for many years took around. His nighttime regime became beer, light liquor, dim liquor, champagne, wine — “regardless of what I could get,” he claims — coupled with two Percocets, at least two Vicodin and at least 3 sleeping tablets, something to help him come to feel considerably less. “It bought to the place where I was using so many tablets and consuming just to snooze at night time that even if I did not want to drink, I would not be in a position to snooze,” he claims.

Guilty and ashamed, Oden apologized to Path Blazers administration just before his 2007 and 2009 surgeries. He was effortless to text but really hard to get on the cell phone. “I will not know that he had a trusted male determine in his existence that could give him excellent information,” Shelt claims. Oden required out. He would appear at tablets and question, Does it make you drowsy? All correct, I am using it. “I was like, ‘If I will not wake up, regardless of what,'” he claims.

In 2009, Oden begun viewing a therapist. Each session commenced with ten minutes of silent meditation. He slash back again on the large consuming and hired a personal chef. By means of the very first twenty games of that time, he performed properly and enjoyed himself, showing flashes of his primary assure. But in December, he jumped to problem a shot by Aaron Brooks of the Rockets. Their knees bumped midair. Oden felt a hollow pop. The Blazers’ coach held Oden’s head to the flooring so that he could not appear down at his kneecap, mangled and split. Teammate Brandon Roy hustled to his aspect and claimed, “Oh my god,” and backed away.

When Oden went down with a knee damage in December 2009, teammate Brandon Roy could only react: “Oh my god.” Cameron Browne/NBAE/Getty Illustrations or photos

The only point Oden remembers from the night time in 2012 when the Path Blazers slash him — following 3 a lot more many years and 3 a lot more knee functions — is that he drank sufficient to not remember something. The Heat signed him in 2013, but he performed sparingly that time, and the team permit him wander. Quickly following, on Aug. seven, 2014, Oden was supposed to be with the Ohio State basketball team in the Bahamas, volunteering on a summer months tour, but he bailed at the previous moment. He went to a club with his on-and-off girlfriend at the time, Christina Eco-friendly, and he coupled beers with shots. They returned to the house of Oden’s mother, Zoe, and begun arguing. Zoe and a buddy of Green’s experimented with to tranquil him down, but Oden swatted them out of the way, pushed Eco-friendly onto a sofa and strike her 3 times, in accordance to the law enforcement report. The previous blow split open her brow, drawing blood. Oden’s mother pulled him off, and Green’s buddy called 911. Oden also called 911, purchased an ambulance and turned himself in. “I was wrong,” he told law enforcement, “and I know what has to happen.”

Oden pleaded guilty to a felony charge of battery with reasonable bodily damage, for which he obtained probation, a great and an get to go to counseling and Alcoholics Anonymous lessons. Virtually 3 many years later, he thinks typically about that night time, while he can’t explore it in considerably element due to the fact of the conditions of a civil fit. “I just want to be a excellent instance for my fiancée and daughter,” he claims. He thinks about what will happen when Londyn one working day Googles her daddy’s identify and discovers a thing considerably even worse than getting the most significant bust in NBA history. And he thinks about what he did upcoming, seeking to get started a new existence.

He moved back again to Columbus.

HE REACHES THE major of the stairs, masking suffering. He generally hurts someplace — his knees, his legs, his hip, his back again. He talks about ambitions the way many previous NFL players do, in conditions of just wanting to be in a position to wander and to be in a position to pick up his daughter and to be in a position to make peace with not feeling correct — not feeling excellent — ever once again. Men and women sometimes question if he nevertheless performs ball or, even worse, appear at him with pity in their eyes due to the fact they know why he isn’t going to. He looks like he could perform — right until he attempts to run. He is on a roster for a 5-on-5 summer months event, but irrespective of whether he’ll perform is an open dilemma. He enjoys his identification as a father and partner-to-be, but he needs a specialist distinction exterior of his present-day one.

So in tumble 2014, Oden begun showing up at the Schottenstein Center basketball court. He had a support program — Matta would permit him come to methods and games and be around the men — but it was no compact feat. A overall body that when declared his arrival now declared his failures. “I experimented with to uncover pleasure once again,” he claims. One particular working day, Jake Diebler, an OSU movie coordinator at the time, launched himself. “I am a huge fan of yours,” Diebler claimed. They became close friends, and Oden became Diebler’s project. He was out of shape, in continual suffering, bereft of self-assurance and nevertheless feeling the pressure to in some way correct a wrong, equally with his career and his criminal actions. He would typically terminate their morning exercise routines, boasting his knees hurt. “Instead than a total exercise session, let’s do 50 %,” Diebler would say, and Oden would relent. “He was lost,” claims Diebler, now an assistant at Vanderbilt. “It hurt my coronary heart to see him go by way of what he did. But it was also neat to see him go by way of it.”

Oden could no lengthier depend on his bodily dominance, so he practiced hooks and jumpers. By the summer months of 2015, he landed tryouts with the Mavericks and Hornets but obtained no offers. The only opportunity arrived from the Jiangsu Dragons of the Chinese Basketball Affiliation. He took it. In the preseason, he injured his thumb, missing 3 months. But he did not tumble aside he returned to perform 25 games. That he had even gotten himself in shape to perform felt like sufficient of a acquire. “I was actually all set to perform basketball,” he claims. It was a lot more than a opportunity to wander off the court with a new semblance of peace. It was an invisible victory on which the relaxation of his existence would be designed.

“He genuinely necessary to be five-eleven and a bookworm,” previous Buckeyes assistant Alan Main claimed. Jim Prisching/Chicago Tribune/Getty Illustrations or photos

HE ENTERS THE workplace of John Macko, his tutorial counselor. Oden sits reverse Macko, knees touching the bottom of the desk. Oden nevertheless has a whole lot of the $24 million he built in his career, but he is aware how immediately the existence he imagined he’d have can disappear. He may mentor. Could possibly broadcast. Could possibly go into enterprise. “Who is aware?” he claims.

Energetic and psyched to see Oden, Macko performs a movie built many years ago in which popular OSU athletes tout the school’s lecturers.

“You found it?” Macko claims.

“I haven’t found it,” Oden claims.

Oden is the very first athlete to show up.

“Oh person,” he claims, shaking his head. “So skinny.”

His old existence will generally follow him, haunting him, even as he attempts to determine his new one. He did not throw away his potential his overall body broke just before he could encounter it. He is typically questioned to give motivational speeches, but he isn’t going to know what to say. “I will not believe I have an ending however,” he claims. On the very first working day of school previous tumble, Oden stood in line for his college student ID card, surrounded by freshmen. Past semester he took a class about NCAA guidelines and rules — a class he lived — but he nevertheless did his necessary studying. He grinds as if a thing bigger than a diploma is at stake.

Macko switches screens, to Oden’s college student profile.

Oden appears antsy, staring at his accrued credits. He registers for highly developed math and history of sports. Now the quantity of credits remaining for his diploma appears on the display. He leans in.

“That’s all you have bought remaining,” Macko claims.

“Oh genuinely?”

He is closer than he understood. He leans back again, feeling a small lighter. “I am chopping away at it.” He’ll very likely obtain his diploma in two many years. He smiles and claims, “I will need to eat.”

He will go upcoming door to a greasy spoon called Hold About Straightforward, one of his favourite places from his very first run as a college student. Men and women will stare at him as he enters, as he ducks below very low ceilings. He’ll uncover a peaceful desk and chill out, purchasing equally breakfast and lunch. A waiter will welcome him back again and give him a card for totally free foodstuff. Someone else will shake his hand and will wander away indicating, “That’s my person!” Then he will go dwelling and perform with Londyn. A excellent morning will turn into a excellent working day. But very first, Oden walks down the stairs of the tutorial support center, back again to the very first flooring. His steps are gradual and studied, but they are constant, so considerably less complicated than the way up.

Resource connection