#i get a damn ass degree so I can be properly educated and he only talks to me After he speaks to a flood of people about pseudo intellectual

[quitethepirategal]

An Analysis in Threes

❥ TAGGED BY: @emcads​ like 30 years ago ❥ TAGGING: @riidcr​ @starsailingcaptain​ @covencrown​ @hookd​ @all-fleshed-out​ @evermxre​ @motherofredemption​ @bup1957​ @conquistadoradelmar​ @seaprofound​ @tcthinecwnself​ @withinycu​ @windguided​ @daevilhorns​ @concordia-cum-sinistro​ and YOU and I spent like 8 hours on this so pLEASE READ IT PLEASE I AM BEGGING I NEED VALIDATION I’M-

     repost don’t reblog. yall dont have to type this much.

MUSE: Captain Red Handed Jessica

Three Strengths:

     Her adaptability and resourcefulness.  Is she brave, yes.  Is she lucky, also yes.   But over all, she can roll with the cards she’s been dealt in a way that many would call inhumanly clever.  Her intelligence, her perception, and her charisma are all different ingredients of this indomitable characteristic of hers.  She can see the value in just about anything and anyone, can pick up on clues and tangents few others can follow, and can remember seemingly endless details, tho unfortunately not on command.  But even then, her patchy memory seems to contribute to this adaptability as well, as it usually allows for detachment.  If she can find resources everywhere, it means she can survive everywhere. There have been countless times where the wheel of fortune has suddenly turned on her and she’d lost near everything and her response was more or less Damn, ok I need food water and shelter lets go.  No food?  Grow food.  No water?  Ask someone if they have water.  No shelter?  Sleep outside.  No money?  Steal money.  Can’t hear anymore?  Cool I can use loud weapons.  Crashed on an island?  My island now.  Shot?  Free bullet.  She knows when to push, she knows when to quit, and sometimes she knows when to gamble based on her ability ( what a man can do and what he can’t do and all that ).  Strong she may be, she knows its foolish to rely on strength.  Survival of the fittest actually rarely means survival of the strongest. ( edit; this is the theme for the entirety of her character. I will say it 50,000 times. I am very sorry ).  And as a student of philosophy and biology, she understands that phrase better than most. Leading to our next point.

     Her understanding.  As I stated, her charisma is something unmatched, and is a key element in all three of her strengths.  This charisma might not exist as prominently were it not for her ability to understand.  She has limited ( I’ll get back to that ) but deep running empathy and while not terribly observant all the time, she is always perceptive.  Not only that, but she’s personally known abuse, hardship, and uncertainty, and understands that hate or anger can be rooted in similar pain.  She was schooled lightly in both Christian and Buddhist values before diving heavily into democratic philosophy, meaning she believes all being experience suffering and therefore kindness is a powerful sign of strength, but also that suffering while free and equal is better than comfort in oppression.  And between her sweet words and beautiful face, she can get most people to open up in ways they themselves my not have expected.  Being very good with people means she can learn from them, gain something from them, lead them, and/or use them.  But Jessica isn’t a manipulator in truth; her intentions are almost always kind or healthy ones.  She absolutely uses people from time to time but not EVER without them consenting to or being made aware of such because again, unlike a manipulative person, she understands that can ruin a relationship and therefore ruin a resource.  What it makes for is an excellent leader, a beloved captain, and a trusted ally at most and an excellent conversationalist at the least.      But her understanding isn’t just social, oh no.  It’s academic as well.  Armed only with his little library and the lessons of his own teachers, Jessica’s foster father tirelessly smithed her into a not just a girl who knew a lot of things, but a truly intelligent, thinking mind. He’d die before learning he’d succeeded tenfold.  Jessica isn’t one to just except things as they are, facts or otherwise.  She usually needs to prove it, experiment, see things from a new angle.  Debates with her are fun!  She has no issue admitting she’s wrong or confessing she’s never thought of it that way, and is actually wrong a lot of the time.  It doesn’t bruise her ego, it excites her.  It means there’s more to learn.  And her ability to constantly understand new concepts paired with her ability to overwhelmingly understand people combine to make for a very powerful core idea of hers:  We are fittest to survive because we all fit together.  Our humanity, our empathy, our community are our strengths because they keep us united, which keeps us the fittest.  No one is independent, no man is an island.  People are power. And thus her final strength is just that.

     Her power.  While she and I still firmly state that strength isn’t everything don’t be disillusioned; its very goddamn important.  And it’s something Jessica has plenty of.  She is durable and clever because of her rocky early childhood, she is quick and versatile from her youth in a pirate port, she is physically strong and mighty from her years training in martial arts, and she’s an absolute crackshot after years of diligent practice with her trusty pistols.  Her true strength may lie in her brains and in her allies yes, but even without them, Red Jessica is a powerhouse of a warrior.  She can end fights extremely quickly or run from them without a prayer of catching her ( no shame in the later, both skills keep you alive ).  And it may be in bad taste to say, but ever since loosing most of her hearing, Jess swears up and down it’s made her vision better, her reaction time faster, and her quick thinking even quicker.  Yes of course she’s slowed down with age, but a bullet shoots at the same speed no matter how old you are.  And you best hope she didn’t bring her firecrackers, because while sudden loud noises will absolutely temporarily discombobulate or debilitate an opponent with healthy hearing, it’ll hardly effect her at all and suddenly, you’re a sitting duck.  You see those thighs?  You see those calves?  She can crush PINEAPPLES with them!  People have seen her do it!  Do you know how many micro-fractures broke and rebuilt those hands?  Thousands!  She can crush a trachea like a fucking beer can!  She can kick you to death!  One ill placed curb stomp and you are DECEASED.  Sometimes she’ll just psyche you out because she KNOWS you know she can kill your stupid ass!       But while her strength, mental and physical, have always been there, her power is relatively new.  As stated before, people are power.  Not knowledge, not money, not strength.  People.  She’s a fearsome warrior but she’d be useless if outnumbered.  Shes a very successful pirate, but she’d never make it out of port without a crew on her ship.  She found a gorgeous island, but it’d still be wild without those who built it’s piers and buildings.  She manages orchards and tends to them and harvests them herself, but she would loose all of her crop without the helping hands of her employed farmers.  And like I mentioned, she deeply understands this.  Freedom is not independence or vice versa.  Did you make the clothes on your back or the fabric that made those clothes?  Did you write the books you read to make you smarter or teach you that skill?  Did you plant the seed years ago that grew that orange you’re eating?  No, of course not.  Jessica didn’t either.  Another human did.  We all need each other to fill the holes in our lives that we can’t fill ourselves.  Humans are puzzle pieces in that way, there is no bigger picture or prayer for survival on our own.  And because of this, we can do anything we as a community, as a SPECIES work together to achieve.  There is no knowledge if there’s no one to learn from, there is no money if a society don’t give it value, your money is worthless if those you’re paying decide to rise against you, your role as leader only exists at the consent of those you lead, and your strength won’t save you from a sinking ship.  People are, and always will be, power.       And as someone who is exceptionally strong and exceedingly smart, Jessica has slotted herself in the humanity puzzle thusly: The strong exist to protect the weak, the smart exist to educate, and the lucky exist so the unlucky may be given aid.  And it is with this fairness and compassion that she has won the trust of so many.  She has a great many friends and allies even outside of those in her crew or on her island.  And she can make many more with ease.  That kind of power is not a power to be trifled with, even if she can kick your ass six ways to Saturday without it. 

Three Weaknesses:

     She suffers ADHD.  Now before ANY OF Y’ALL SAY ANYTHING, I myself also suffer ADHD.  And yes I do say suffer because well that’s what it causes for Jessica and I, suffering.  Yes, it is ableist language to say ‘suffering from’ rather than ‘has’ or ‘is diagnosed with’ and yes it perpetuates a stigma against us but god DAMN IT in both Jessica’s case and mine, it make life much much harder than it needs to be.  At the end of the day, Red Jessica is a fantasy of mine; I pour myself into her whether I mean to or not.  She’s the adult I wish I was, the person I might be if I had no anxiety, or brainfog, or lived in a world were I didn’t need a credit score or a degree. And even then, I can’t say I know anyone else’s problems better than my own.  So if my character has problems, by sheer osmosis they are going to reflect some of mine.  Both of the characters I write have ADHD because I have ADHD and I couldn’t even begin to know how a non-ADHD mind works to write it properly.  And no, I’m not being dramatic when I say it causes me suffering.  I can’t drive, I can’t hold down a job, I nearly flunked out of school, I still cant read very fast or spell very well, I am constantly overwhelmed by mundane things, I’m a slow learner, I forget very important things or recent things, I forget about things that mean the world to me, I forget about people, I stumble through tasks, I procrastinate hobbies and basic hygiene, and everything I do takes all goddamn day and I can only really do one important thing at a time and in order of importance.  If I have a date at 4pm, I’m dressed and ready at 11am because I’ve gotta do the important thing first or else I will forget to do the important thing.  I started typing this at a little before 5pm.  It’s 7;30.  It’ll probably be 10 o’clock at night by the time I fucking finish ( edit: l m a o its 1am bitch you thought ).  I’m 26 and am just medicated enough to barely function.  So yeah.  Suffering is the word.       Though for Jessica, perhaps suffering is a tad strong of a word.  Her ADHD affects her ability to function in far less debilitating ways ( though whether that’s a result of a less severe diagnosis than me or the result of the society, situations, and responsibilities she functions in and around are far different from mine, who’s to say ).  For her, she has very consuming hyperfixations that can last anywhere between weeks to decades, a spotty memory that is detail and memento oriented,  she’s scatterbrained more often then not but can focus with amazing clarity on her interests or in high adrenaline situations, is is ABYSMALLY bad at math and EXCRUCIATINGLY bad with numbers ( as opposed to me, who is good at numbers but shit at spelling or reading ), she can forget anything no matter how important it is to her or to anyone, she’s bad with names and dates, is COMPLETELY time-blind, has trouble prioritizing, and of course, wile not actually that materialistic, she absolutely has the ol’ magpie instinct.       While her poor memory assists in her adaptability and ability to move on, it also means she forgets things she needed to remember, like when the last time she bathed was and who this person is and what happened between her and someone else or what conversation’s shes had.  Unfortunately this means she’s a very good friend and leader... while you’re around and interacting with her on at least a weekly basis.  It’s almost a lack of object permanence in both a social and very real sense.  If something is not right in front of her, odds are she’s not going to think about it.  And while its something she constantly kicks herself for and actively tries to be better about, it applies to people too.  Face to face is the best way to interact with her; she won’t think to write you and in her modern verse she won’t think to ever call and she’ll text you back in perhaps a few days.  She doesn’t value you any less, I promise.  She’s just either distracted or overwhelmed.  Also, for someone as understanding as her, she is surprisingly self-centered.  Not selfish, self-centered.  She’ll talk about herself more than she should, and will assume people understand that she’s doing so as a form of showing empathy rather than bragging when they may not know this at all.  Actually she accidentally assumes all the time.  It was far worse when her hearing was functional; she’d finish your sentence for you or guess what it was you were going to say ( again, not to talk over, you but to show she understands you and the conversation, tho it usually came of as annoying or patronizing ).  Sometimes she mistakenly assumes you believe or know the same things she does without even realizing it.  Maybe she perceives the right idea off of someone but isn’t observant enough to notice anything past that.  And while she is willing to change her mind about things, she might change her mind a tad too quickly.  She’s an over-sharer and is horrible at keeping any kind of secret.  Romantic relationships tend to fizzle out. Her impulse control is improving but has a VERY long way to go. She’s always chasing something new.       All and all, when you’re a pirate, a librarian, or even a captain, all of these things may be irritating and inconvenient, but are overall manageable in chunks.  ...But as a governor to her island, as a leader of an entire population... oof. In the position of leadership that she’s in, she can’t afford to make too many massive mistakes, and she knows this.  ‘There is no power quite like the power of being underestimated’ is a phase you’ll hear her say a lot but for her, there is a shift in connotation.  If people expect less and you do more that’s a great upper hand in any situation but for her, it was a safety net.  Having ADHD sometimes means going months or years being fine and then eventually you fuck up and everyone around you wonders how in the world you managed to do that.  She has only barely avoided disaster more times than she’d like to admit.  Even with the resourcefulness, the understanding, and the power she wields, she’s finally starting to realize that she’s bit off more than she might be able to chew, with the entire well-beings and livelihoods of others on the line.  And she fears that one day she’ll play her cards wrong and everything she’d built, everything she’s done, will all come crashing down in ruin.

     She is Hard of Hearing.  This one is literally as simple as it sounds: she has moderate and degenerative hearing loss and tinnitus after years of canons, explosions, gunshots, and a definitive, scale tipping attack in her early 30s.  Her ears just don’t work at all like they used to.  The whole world sounds like it would if everything was underwater: she can’t pin point the location of sounds, how far off or close sounds are, and barely registers changes in volume. And it only gets worse the older she gets; one day she won’t hear anything at all.  And while yes, again, it might be very harsh and ableist to say, the truth of the matter that being deaf a “ weakness ” more often than its a strength.       That said, it very well can be a strength.  I’ve already mentioned that trick with the firecrackers and let me tell you it is a DAMN EFFECTIVE TRICK.  Shes around explosions and canons and guns all the time and now she can focus while being around them five times better than she could in the past!  But unfortunately it also means she’s very easy to sneak up on, she sometimes isn’t aware of danger until it’s nearly too late,  no one can get her attention or warn her across any distance, it’s very easy to escape from her, and it’s easy for her to be just... left out of things.  She might hear you talking, but she has little to no idea what you’re saying without sign or lipreading.  Some people don’t have the patience or even just the courtesy to speak slower, or clearer, or repeat themselves a lot.  Though, those last too thinks aren’t weaknesses of hers so much as they are the weakness of others, but they still negatively affect her self esteem and her effectiveness as a leader.       All of this has taught her to pick her battles carefully, and plan around the elements of surprise and discombobulation.  And while communication was tricky at first, it only got easier, and now she can talk to you almost like anyone can, so long as she’s looking you in the face. 

     That damn bleeding heart.  We have established a number of things that should easily add up to an overly empathetic, trusting, fight-the-good-fight, martyr-some, idealistic pushover;  she believes humanity and kindness are strengths, she has taken on the role of leader and then a provider, she has known suffering and tasked herself with ending the suffering of others to the best of her ability,  she lacks the clarity of mind to assume people aren’t just as good or capable as her automatically, she can have poor impulse control at times,  she wants to have relationships, and ( while I never stated this outright yet it can be inferred  ), she believes that being able to see yourself in others is the foundation of humanity and ( as i did say outright ) humanity is what keeps us unified and unity is what makes us fit and strong.  Keeping up?  Good. Here’s the curve ball: How can she whole hardheartedly preach and believe all of this, to the point of it being the foundation of her character, WHILE BEING A VIOLENT THIEVING AND BLOODTHIRSTY PIRATE?!  HOW, MANGO? HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?! MAKE IT MAKE SENSE!!  Ok, fine, sure, I will. I’m sure about one half of you are looking up from the screen and going “ Oh yeah, wow I totally forgot that bit. “ and the other half got about two and a half paragraphs in before squinting and silently calling bullshit. So let me explain.      In short, she’s a detached hypocrite and is well aware and unashamed of her hypocrisy while far less aware of her detachment. I’ll cover both:  Western culture as a whole seems to be under the impression that hypocrisy, despite context or importance, is automatically bad.  I don’t know where this comes from personally ( my bet is Christianity but I have exactly 0 evidence ) but its a very... flawed idea.  Take the freedom of speech vs racism problem; say you owned a bar where all could speak their mind freely over cold drinks.  Excellent concept without context, right?  Sure. ....Then a die hard racist covered in slurs and symbols walks in and orders- what are you going to do?  The correct answer is to throw him out instantly.  Not let him sit so long as he doesn’t cause trouble, not just ignore him and hope he doesn’t return, you throw him out.  Is it hypocritical?  Yep!  Sure is!  But it is also 100% necessary to protect your other patrons because if you don’t, the racist starts feeling safe and bringing his racist buddies, literally everyone else starts feeling unsafe and starts to hang out elsewhere, and two months later, ta da!  You now own a n*zi bar and there is literally nothing you can do about it. Jessica is in a somewhat similar situation.  You as a pretend bar owner need to make a decision as who to let into your bar and who to throw out for the good of all of your patrons.  Jessica too is faced daily with that decision.  If she want’s to help as many people as possible, the only realistic way she can do that are by protecting those under her leadership... only.  She is surrounded by hateful, angry, sneaky, traitorous, abusive, or otherwise evil people.  Piracy as a profession and poverty in general can do that to a person.  Of course there is a clear difference between those down on their luck and desperate, and the truly cruel and twisted, but unfortunately both types of people yield the same wrongdoings.  It’s absolutely her nature to extend a hand to anyone and everyone but.... she just can’t anymore.  Too many times has her trust been betrayed, too many times has she gotten in peoples business trying to be helpful, only for her to absolutely bite her in the ass.  Too many time the extended hand is bitten and once or twice, she’s actually made things worse.       Now, she will only help someone she loves, someone under her leadership, or someone who seeks her out.  That’s it.  And even then, sometime it manages to bite er in the ass.  But she had to set that hard limit for herself out of necessity, one she does her absolute best to adhere too and... these days she adheres a little too well. That leads us to our next point; what I was alluding to at the beginning of her Understanding essay when I said she has limited but deep running empathy.  That detachment again, courtesy of a very unattached mother and unchecked ADHD. ( It isn’t a strong enough characteristic to even rank as a strength or a weakness but damn if it isn’t an undercurrent to a lot of her motivations and experiences. ) Strangers are fair game that she tries to ignore, but if she even perceives you as a threat, you could be in danger. Like anyone used to violence or perhaps anyone trapped in an us verses them mindset, she can just... flat... turn her empathy off.  Not on command, she’s not a socio or psychopath persay.  But she has become totally numb to the horror of violence via her warrior upbringing that, in her mind, violence can actually be rather fun. Pair that with the fact that she purposely tailored herself to only be empathetic to her allies and boom.  You get a kindhearted killer.  Cops and soldiers in our world do it literally every day.  Actually anyone can do it really, even you if you tried. You don’t have to be evil or even angry to kill or steal or lie... you just have to believe you’re right.

Three Secrets:

     WHAT SECRETS?!  LMAO this bitch is the oversharing queen!! I’ve been typing and pondering her character for literal hours ( its currently 11:16, fuck you adderall ), and I still can not think of a single goddamn secret.  There is nothing about her that at least five random people don’t fucking know about!! The only secrets she has are secrets she knows about other people and even then she is!! literally the worst!! She spills her guts left and right and yet she wants to be a mysterious bitch SO BAD like BABE I love you, you’re precious, but you are a dumbass attention seeking validation chasing adhd CLOWN girl!! Stop telling random people about your hermaphroditism or your dairy allergy or your dead dad or that time you fell asleep in a barrel like that is literally your uber driver Jessica honey come ooooon. I’m skipping this section mom holy fuck.

Three Fears:

     What if she does wrong by everyone who trusts her?  As stated at the end of the ADHD essay, she’s terrified of failing those she leads.  Where it as simple as personal failure, she’d be fine.  Ever if her entire world came crashing down on top of her she’d either die or start back from square one.  Death is a fact of life and her adaptability means she can just dust herself off and move on, so neither her death nor her failures really scare her... But it isn’t just her life and happiness at stake, is it? Not anymore, right?  What started as a leader of a small gang of rebels became a full crew, then a crew became a slew of allies, then those allies built a town and now... now she’s the governor of the Crimson Isle and there are nearly twenty five HUNDRED lives at her mercy.   HER mercy.  One really, really bad mistake could ruin their livelihoods or spark disorder and disloyalty.  And if she died?  Would whoever it is that will take her place be as good to them as she is?  Is she good enough to begin with in the first place? Every day the paperwork gets a little bit thicker, every year there’s a new baby or two.  And the isle has fertile soil sure but will it last?  Are they prepared for a raid or a hurricane?  And if Jessica trusts the wrong people, where her people right to trust her?  ...can I protect them? Can I protect them?! CAN I PROTECT THEM?!

     Who am I if I’m not interesting?  This is, literally, an entirely subconscious fear.  She’s not at all aware it exists and therefor this entry is short. But between her short time with her very unimpressed mother, her own ADHD, she is constantly hungry for attention without even realizing it.  She must be interesting and intriguing and engaging, and I did mention she wants to also be mysterious.  She wants not so much your input or even your validation - but rather if shes not perceived then.... is she really there? Remember, she is unaware of any of this.  And fortunately she’d never been starved for attention to act out over it in the first place, even when her disinterested mother was alive. Look at her; she’s radiant, she’s beautiful, and she’s 6′4 / 195 cm shredded and covered in cool scars. Without even opening her mouth, without even her colorful clothes, she’s kind of automatically interesting.  So she’s never been so desperate for attention that she acts out because she’s never been without it for very long.  But it’s there. Hungry, aching, silent.  Those years after the M branding were horrible and she could never really explain why.  She still throws parties, organizes festivals, and talks to damn near anyone who will listen.  Look at my art!  Look at my library! Listen to how much I know! Let me tell you how lovely you are! Look at my scares! Look at my hair! Look at me haha, please, please look at me. 

     GHOSTS. NOPE. No. NO. Fuck ALL of that noise. Stay dead, go to hell, eat a dick.  Red Jessica is a scientist and superstitious atheist. As an academic and somewhat bi-cultural woman she simply thinks there are far too many religions with far too much history for any of them to be considered The One True Thing You Must Believe Or ElseTM and she tends to not truly believe anything until she finds some kind of proof.  Shes not afraid of the unknown, shes thrilled by it. She’s not afraid of death or the afterlife, that’s beyond her control. She’s only superstitious because she does believe in and value luck, and also its a bit of a cultural habit. BUT IF SOME SHIT STARTS MOVING ON ITS OWN OR IF SHE SEES SOME BULLSHIT IN THE CORNER OF HER EYE THEN SHE IS OUT OF THERE. OUTIE 5000. She has heard the tales of lost souls from purgatory or the eternally ravenous Pret or dangerous Phi Tai Hong or the tragic and startling Banshees or the creepy Santa Compana and she wouldn’t believe a word of it where it not for one thing.      SHE FUCKING SAW ONE. She’ll never forget it, it was the first and last time she EVER attempted to plunder a tomb all Skyrim style and at first she thought it was one of the crewmean being creepy as shit until she got a good look and he was SEE THROUGH AS SHIT AND SKINNY AS FCUK AND SHE GOT LITERALLY CHASED THE FUCK OUT OF THAT JOINT. She does not CARE that some ghosts are just apparitions she does not CARE that some are friendly and trying to warn her of something if you are MOVING and DEAD at the SAME time get FUCKED. If any of y’all cringe try-hards bring a Ouija board to the party you are getting SENT HOME and BLOCKED. NO CAP.

Three Goals:

   She really only has one left. Listen its... almost 1am and ive been typing since like 5pm i think i covered goals somewhere in here but ive gotta throw in the towel but even then I’m kinda being serious.  Her only remaining goal is to find a suitable heir of some kind.  She wants what she’s built to fall into worthey hands but she could never seem to find a good parter and even when she did she couldn’t sustain a pregnancy ( you’d think that would be a huge deal but it hardly mattered to her oddly ).  So at 50 the option of having kids is out but there’s still plenty of hope for either adoption or a protege.  But then again, she’s so busy these days that she hardly prioritizes it like she wants to.  

                                                                               holy shit i need some water...

[scaredandbored]

.ok i caved and wrote spones. academy au spones. with a really, horribly out of character spock. was this purely self-indulgent? yes. i’m not even 100% sure what im doing with this story, only that its spones, they share a dorm, and its going to be a gross, borderline self-insert fic lmaoooo. playing fast and loose with the academy’s curriculum because i’m a lazy piece of shit who won’t research the actual structure. also, idk if it even counts as slash, because it contains what i consider flirting, which is ACTUALLY just bickering and academic/scientific discussion combined with gentle physical contact. let me have this. 

additional note : i snuck in some pining at the end! so it’s definitely romantic! ha! (it’s not worth it dont bother)

additional additional note : i fucked up a perfectly good spones fic by trying to add jim but it turned into McSpirk 

Collectors poke and scalpels ring

(title from billy corgan’s poem “a wax seal”)

warnings : don’t read this spock is so badly written in it.

                 blatant abuse of the comma, oxford and otherwise

                 someone gets burnt but it’s not severe and it’s off of tea 

                 cursing. a lot of it. 

words : c.6’000 (i’ll count properly tomorrow, it’s hard to get a word count on mobile)

If Leonard was being completely honest with himself (which he tried to be, dammit), his studying had stopped being productive at some stage between midnight and one a.m, but he’d be damned if he was going to grant his smug-enough-already roommate an “I told you so” by going to bed. Not that Spock would use such colloquial, illogical language. Resisting the urge to groan, Leonard let his head fall to his desk, confident the pile of pages he had accumulated while studying for his assessment in Standard Procedures in Classifying Non-Humanoid Life-Forms would muffle the thud enough to prevent upsetting his roommate’s meditation in the bedroom next to his. Walls were thin at the academy, that was the whole reason he’d had to turn down Jim when he’d requested Leonard to bunk with him for their second year in the academy. Bones loved the kid, he really did, but if he wasn’t blasting his frankly awful study music through the whole night, he had someone over from wherever he’d been that evening, and Bones had come to learn (quickly, and unwillingly), that Jim was loud in bed.

Making the decision to go make a coffee (not with one of those godawful replicators, but with some decent coffee beans that his younger sister had brought as a present on his birthday, for which he’d had to actually purchase a grinder and coffee press for afterwards, but it was the thought that counts), Bones couldn’t help but miss the all-nighters he and Jim used to pull together in their previous year at the academy, using each other to keep awake and motivated. The kid’s taste in classical music left much to be desired, but he didn’t seem to mind Bones’s preferences, so they’d throw on the med student’s study playlist on Jim’s maybe-technically-banned-but-no-one-is-going-to-snitch-on-us-because-we-all-have-one-Bones-relax speaker and bounce flash cards off of each other, explaining things to one another, and sharing notes. Jim had always been very much an aural-oral learner, unable to retain information unless he had explained it to someone, or had it explained to him, and while Bones definitely did not mind helping his friend out, he’d always been a more individual learner, preferring to take his notes and summarise them, re-writing the most important points until he had them ingrained in his subconscious. Which was all well and good, except it was a pain in the ass of a technique that only became more frustrating when it was employed in a long night of cramming.

Quietly, Bones took his mug as well as the rest of the required paraphernalia from the almost-bare shelf in the equally almost-bare cupboard he and Spock had voted to dedicate to Bones’s “illogical need to entertain guests with a strange variety of baked goods paired with one of two hot beverages” and Spock’s “ostentatious pots and probably poisonous concoctions”, all while chiding himself for reminiscing about study sessions. Of all the stupid shit he could reminisce about at the ripe age of twenty-two, study sessions with a friend he could easily invite over to join him was probably the one of the most stupid. Bones was forced to pause and evaluate his situation as he realised that all his quiet tip-toeing about in an effort to leave Spock’s meditation undisturbed was probably null and fucking void, seeing as he had to manually grind the coffee beans, which would indubitably create enough noise to irritate those over-sensitive ears. Not that the vulcan could feel irritation. Fucking asshole.

Rolling his eyes at his own cankerous mood, he began to prepare his coffee, keeping half an ear on the sudden rustling noises from Spock’s bedroom as the disturbed vulcan did god-knows-what before coming out to lecture Leonard. Or to glare at him. Or condescend him. Maybe criticise him on how late he’d left it to study for this godforsaken exam. Or maybe Leonard was projecting onto his poor roommate, who he’d only known for the better half of a month. (During which, the cranky bastard side of his brain argued, said roommate had made his distaste for human culture and illogic clear, his particular dislike (it was dislike, regardless of whatever “vulcans don’t feel” bullshit he was trying to pull) of Leonard thinly veiled, and his disinclination to speak to Leonard in general blatantly obvious.) Most likely Spock would simply head into their shared living area to procure a cup of his noxious evening teas before returning to his meditation, not stooping so low as to acknowledge the source of the disruption to his nightly routine. Leonard’s mission to caffeinate himself was not under threat. It took more energy than Leonard would ever admit to quell the disappointment that bubbled up at the thought of Spock just ignoring him.

It was stupid-o-clock in the morning, of course the vulcan wasn’t going to engage in a full-blown academic conversation with him, what was he thinking? Bones haphazardly plopped the filter over his mug just as the kettle came to a boil, doggedly ignoring the squeak of Spock’s door and the sound of his bare feet against their tile floor.

“It is not recommended for humans to ingest beverages of such a high caffeine content at this hour.” Spock’s voice breaking the eerie silence of the late hour was enough to make Leonard’s usually still hands jerk, splashing his knuckles with the hot water. He managed to suppress a hiss of pain, determined not to let the vulcan see any weakness.

“It’s not generally recommended amongst humans to get your medical degree at Starfleet Academy, yet here I am, Spock.” Griped Bones, turning to face Spock with his mug in hand, the eye contact he made intended as a challenge. Try and stop me, Pointy.

Spock raised an eyebrow, which alerted Leonard to the vulcan’s significantly slower than normal movements. The damn vulcan was sleepy, he realised. In an infuriatingly adorable way, Spock blinked slowly twice before responding, a significant delay in his usual response times to Leonard’s taunts. “On the contrary, an education in Starfleet Academy is highly coveted amongst humans; its expansive curriculum makes its graduates highly sought after in careers outside of the academy. I see no logic in your statement.”

Bones rolled his eyes, knocking back half his coffee in a matter of seconds, and burning his tongue in the process. “I don’t see the logic in continuing to hold conversations with an individual you find so distastefully illogical, Mr.Spock.” He passed the strange traditional vulcan teapot out to his roommate along with the decidedly terran-style mug Spock seemed to prefer using.

Spock offered three more of his slow, dazed blinks before responding with a tilt of his head that was slightly more pronounced than the one he tended to make during the day. “Distasteful? I do not believe I have ever said as much, McCoy.”

Bones gave a single, barking laugh, shaking his head as he began to move back towards his bedroom. “Careful, Mr.Spock. Keep up the flattery and you might say something you regret.”

“You are studying?” Spock called after him, just as Leonard was closing his door.

Leonard watched Spock as he shuffled around their kitchen, preparing his tea, his normally purposefully brisk steps reduced to a half-asleep stumble. His roommate gave no indication of having spoken to him. “In my usual, time-consuming way. Yes I am, Mr.Spock.”

Spock did not face him, but the delay in his response was still significant, for the vulcan, “You study using this highly inefficient method only when learning independently, correct?”

“What is it you’re getting at? There’s only so many hours in a night, and some of us have work to do.” Growled Leonard, his prolonged view of the back of Spock’s house robes frustrating him. Their arguments were much less entertaining and all the more aggravating when he couldn’t look Spock in the eye. Spock attempted to answer while turning to face Leonard in his sleepy daze, forgetting that he was halfway through pouring the boiling water over the strainer, effectively dousing his front in the scalding liquid. There was a brief pause where Spock blinked down at the front of his robes, while Bones processed what had just happened before jerking into action. “Get that glorified dressing gown off of yourself, Spock!” He whisper-shouted, determined not to wake the entire residential block. Spock just blinked at himself, then at Leonard.

“It is burning.” He deadpanned, prompting Bones to roll his eyes and cross the room in a few quick strides.

“It’s boiling water, Spock, of course it’s burning.” He hissed tapping the lapels of the robes. “You need to get out of this so we can get you under some running, room temperature water, try and stop any blistering.” Spock finally seemed to register what was going on and began to unwrap the ties of the robes, turning away from Leonard as he did so. Leonard noticed his roommate look uneasy at the prospect of being shirtless around him, and decided to leave him to it. “I’ll go run the shower, you dry yourself off a bit and run any part of your arm that got caught in the stream under the tap. I’ll call you when the shower’s the right temperature, ok?”. Leonard waited for Spock’s nod before bolting off to their shared bathroom to start working. 

So much for his productive night studying. It was starting to look like he’d be playing nurse for Spock until the on-campus medbay opened at five am. He was just beginning to realise exactly how fucked he was for the exam the following day when the door to their bathroom creaked open slowly. “Nearly there, Spock. I don’t recommend using any of your pungent herbal shit, we don’t want anything getting into any burst blisters or anything.” 

“Your alarm is unwarranted, Leonard. There is no lasting damage done to my person.”

“Congratulations on your medical degree, Spock, didn’t realised you’d discovered a fast track. Y’could’ve told me.” Leonard drawled, not taking his eyes off of the shower, his wrist under the stream of water to monitor the temperature. 

“You know I have done no such thing.” Spock huffed, his less alert state loosening his restraint enough to allow for such blatant emotionalism. 

“Sarcasm, Spock. Somethin’ you’re gonna have to get used to if you plan on launching into the void canned in with a bunch of humans once we graduate.” Leonard was angling for a mild version of their normally acerbic exchanges, but Spock didn’t seem willing to take the bait.

“If you insist I must bathe in tepid water, I will comply, but I trust you understand the state of my health is my concern alone, and you have no power to forbid me from assisting you with your studies.”

“Bold of you to assume I want your assistance.” His final attempt to goad Spock fell just as flat as his others, and he gave a defeated sigh. “Please stay in until your skin’s returned to its normal complexion, alright?”

Spock gave a half nod and stood to the side to let Leonard pass out of the bathroom, which he did a mite faster than was strictly necessary. Sighing as Spock closed the door, Leonard began weighing the benefit of trying to study against the fact he was just worried enough to be distracted from anything too difficult. Leonard scoffed. “Who am I kidding, everything in this module is difficult enough to make me want to rip my fucking eyes out.” He continued grumbling incoherently as he made his way back to his room, throwing a dirty look at the mess of teapots, mugs, and cafetieres as he walked past it. Spock would have a hissy fit. Or, the closest thing the teachings of Surak would allow to a hissy fit. “Goddamn, green-blooded, neat-freak.” Leonard groused, frowning at the state of his room.

Leonard often consoled himself for his lack of cleanliness within the confines of his bedroom using the fact he very rarely sullied shared living areas. He liked to think of his room as a sort of nesting area; cluttered, but cosy and homely. Spock thought the state of his room was indicative of his disorganised mind and illogical outlook on life. He looked around his room, trying to decide how to partially tidy it most effectively before Spock got out of the shower. 

Ultimately, he decided to leave anything that could be passed off as studying material (including, but not limited to the notes Jim had left behind on Starfleet-approved mixed martial arts) and to gather all clothing into one pile behind the door. He had just finished that and was contemplating moving some of the collection of unwashed, half-empty mugs he’d forgotten about into the sink when someone cleared their throat at the threshold of the door, causing Leonard to jump. “Goddammit, Spock, y’could’ve killed me!” He snapped, subtly kicking the sleeve of one of his hoodies behind the door. 

Spock’s eyes followed his foot as he attempted this subterfuge, which lead him directly to the pile of clothes. He raised an eyebrow, looking back at Leonard. “I was unaware the human heart was so poorly designed that even one belonging to a relatively fit for duty, young man was susceptible to cardiac arrest caused by unpredictable scenarios. It leads me to wonder why Starfleet consists mostly of such an inept species.”

The adorable, sleepy Spock had disappeared, leaving the sharper, more alert, more dangerously attractive Spock that Bones was going to have a hard time not coming onto over the next year. “I think I preferred you when y’couldn’t string together a sentence.”   

Spock’s eyes narrowed infinitesimally as he stepped purposefully towards Leonard’s desk. “You are hardly the image of a functioning officer after your rest cycle has been disrupted, McCoy.” He quipped, pouring over the notes Leonard had been working on before the whole tea-spilling fiasco. “You have been repeatedly transcribing the same five notes for upwards of an hour, if you maintained a constant rate of words per minute.” 

Leonard shrugged, striding over to his desk to snatch the notes back defensively. “What of it?” He snapped, picking up his pad of paper (not good for the environment, but he’d loaned his PADD that he usually used for revision to Jim a week ago and wasn’t due to get it back until that weekend) and old-fashioned pen that used to belong to his mother. 

Spock raised an eyebrow at Leonard’s odd behaviour, picking up the textbook that had started to slip down the back of the overcrowded desk to leaf through it. “It is a highly inefficient method of study. Particularly given your current time constraints.” 

“Spare me the lecture, Spock. It works, and that’s all that matters.” Leonard drawled, having already resumed his scribbling, desperately attempting to commit one of the longer definitions required for the exam to memory. 

“That statement has no grounds in fact, nor does your extension based on the untruth follow any semblance of logic.”

Leonard uttered a string of curses in his native tongue, making Spock consider taking Earth English classes on the side, if only to aggravate the med student in his own native tongue. Not that Spock would ever admit to such irrational motivations.  “Dammit, Spock,” Leonard’s familiar growls in Standard had less venom than they usually did this early in their verbal sparring, a fact that drew Spock’s concern sharply onto the med student. “,either sit down and help a guy out, or get out and let me be. Ain’t that hard.” Spock eased himself down onto the human’s bed carefully, sitting cross-legged beside him with the textbook balanced carefully on his knee.

“I have heard you listening to music whilst studying on previous occasions. I have noted you do not tend to do so while I am meditating, however, I am doing so now. If it assists you, I would recommend you indulge.” Carefully watching the human for signs of distress while he spoke, Spock decided another snip at him would not hurt him. “Your human focus is dismal enough without depriving it of the stimulus necessary for it to operate at an acceptable level of efficiency.”

Spock watched with mild satisfaction as Leonard threw his archaic study materials down in a small rage, his eyebrows practically dancing as he spluttered furiously for exactly 3.2 seconds before responding coherently. “Why, you listen here, you green-blooded son-of-a-bitch, y’ain’t doin’ much good in this here bedroom, so you’ve got about three seconds ‘fore i throw you out!”

Spock unfurled himself and stood, but he didn’t make a move for the door. Instead, the stoic bastard moved back to Leonard’s desk, sorting papers into piles as he systemically searched the surface for something. Finally, he picked up Leonard’s music device: a miniature PADD his younger sister had constructed for her first set of practical engineering exams, programmed to run audio files only. “A’ight, give it here.” Leonard stretched out his hand, palm up, waiting for Spock to hand it over. Spock took a moment to briefly page through the audio files Leonard had equipped the tiny device with, the corners of his mouth turning down fractionally. “Somethin’ the matter, Spock?”

“I was under the impression that humans preferred to listen to classical music whilst studying?”

“That is classical, Spock.”

“I do not recognise it.”

Spock looked up just in time to watch the furrows between Leonard’s brows deepening. “Well, it’s classical, terran music, not vulcan, so I don’t suspect y’would.”

Without thinking, Spock said, “My mother made sure I was acquainted with many kinds of classical terran music as a child. I expected to recognise at least one of these songs from the information she provided me with.”

“Your mother liked terran music?”

Spock didn’t even pause to consider the trust required for him to offer an insight into his personal history. He just did. “My mother was human. I am only half-vulcan.”

“Might be half-vulcan, but you’re still a whole pain in the ass.” The rapidity of Leonard’s answer set Spock totally at ease, and the vulcan allowed himself to relax slightly in the presence of the human. “Y’still’ve done absolutely fuck all to help me, and I really do need to study. Y’can stay if y’want, but I can’t be shootin’ the breeze with you all night, y’hear?”. Spock’s look of confusion at the idiom was enough to send Leonard back on the defensive, and he was about to launch into a strong verbal eviction from his room when something almost-but-not-quite-clear quickly swept over Spock’s eyeballs. “What in the fucking HELL was that!” He shrieked, immediately grabbing his training tricorder from under his bed and scanning Spock, studies forgotten.

Spock’s alarm was only notable in his shoulders, which tensed as Leonard crowed into his personal space to a degree that would’ve been considered improper on Vulcan. Spock did not make any movement to rectify this situation. “McCoy?”. Leonard was muttering to himself as he scanned Spock for a third time. “Leonard?”

“What was that, Spock?”

“I am unclear on what it is exactly you are referring to.” Spock maintained solid eye contact with the Leonard, concern for the human’s mental well-being bubbling under his cool exterior. Leonard blinked, twice, incredulously, before putting his hand on the junction between Spock’s neck and shoulder, which was covered by his turtleneck. He looked at though he was going to say something before he went extremely pale and spluttered incoherently for a few moments before beginning anew with his tricorder scans. “Leonard?” 

“Spock, something’s happening to your eyes.” He growled in response, pressing at the junction where his hand rested. “Turn your head, I want to scan it from another angle. Do you feel dizzy, nauseous, anything out of the ordinary?” 

“Nothing. The level of confusion I am experiencing is within normal parameters for my interactions with you.” Spock felt a wave on content pass over him when McCoy stopped scanning for a second to glare at him, before shaking his head and resuming his activities.

After a few minutes, he withdrew the scanner, dragging a hand down his face. “Spock, I don’t suppose vulcans happen to have a second pair of eyelids, do they?” 

“Have your anatomy classes failed to cover that of vulcans?” Spock narrowed his eyes, deflecting from the fact that he didn’t actually know if the second eyelid was still a functioning part of vulcan biology. He’d learnt about it as a vestigial organ, but his hybrid nature had fascinated many scientists back home. One of the reasons he had decided to leave for Starfleet; Spock had hoped to avoid the invasive poking and prodding done in the name of research. That being said, the soft poking sensation of Leonard’s fingers through his shirt was far from uncomfortable, and Spock felt strange when the sensation stopped. 

“We do, but the piss-poor files the VSA are willing to relinquish to us mere humans are so fucking full of redaction and contradiction that all we’ve left to work with are a few vague diagrams and thoughouly unhelpful paragraphs on the composition of vulcan blood.” Leonard took a step back from Spock, restoring the traditional respectful distance between them. Much too distant for Spock’s liking. “You’re sure you’re not going to die in the next few hours until we can get you to the sickbay tomorrow?”

“I do not need-”

“Spock, you’ve not only burnt yourself-”

“It is superficial at most, and does not require-”

“-but you’ve just discovered what might maybe be an eyelid but could equally -for all we know- be-”

“-medical attention. Your anxiety is unwarranted and your focus on your studies has waned to what could prove to be a detrimental degree if you do not-”

“-a malignant growth of some sort, you have to go to find out if that thing is hurting you or not at least-”

“-cease your illogical fussing and resume.”

“-and I- Spock are you even listening to me?” Leonard’s gradually increasing volume finally peaked out, and Spock raised an eyebrow at the outburst. “Ah. shit, the neighbours.” 

“At this hour, we can hope they are in a deep enough sleep not to have heard-”

“Are you kidding me Spock, I practically screamed-”

“If we continue in this vein, you will lose what little volume control you posses. Please sit down once again and I shall try and gauge how much you have prepared for this test already and we shall start from there.” Spock’s eyebrow lowered itself slowly as he relaxed once more, Leonard sitting down on the bed close to the headboard, making it easy for Spock to sit relatively close to him without making it look like anything but a logical decision for optimum viewing of the human’s notes. Not that it wasn’t motivated by logic. The fact his side was pressed soothingly to Leonard’s was a pleasant bonus. “That eyelid thing is a bit strange, you’re sure it doesn’t hurt?”

Spock levelled him with a flat stare. “I shall visit the nurse tomorrow if you cease this discussion.”

Leonard shrugged and dropped his head down and began working on a list of things he felt confident on for the next day in an attempt to hide his smug smile. It didn’t work, but Spock didn’t say anything. 

A few hours later, they had taken a break from Spock’s relentless verbal assessments for Leonard to give his brain a chance to process the points they had been drilling and for Spock to asses the data he had collected on Leonard’s rate of retention of information to try and streamline their next bout. Except Leonard’s head had dropped onto Spock’s shoulder, and the heat from where their sides were pressed tightly together was relaxing Spock into a borderline meditative state. It was only when his chest started to vibrate lightly when Spock snapped himself back to reality, confident he had not woken his study mate with his unfortunate vulcan habit. Hubris was not a trait vulcans were capable of possessing, so Spock classed his slide in judgement as a calculation error, not as a result of unfounded pride.

“Were’y’... purrin’, Spock?” The human’s voice was muffled by Spock’s turtleneck, so the flush high on the his cheeks went unnoticed by Leonard. 

“It is... an unfortunate, involuntary response of Vulcans.” Was Spock’s clipped answer, suddenly awake and almost frantically pouring over the notes he had made on Leonard’s progress. 

“Mmm, sounds like more of y’all’s goddamn cagey nature. Outta be somethin’ your doctor outta know.” Leonard slowly picked himself up off of Spock’s shoulder. Spock felt irrationally irate at the loss of contact, despite the fact their sides remained pressed together. “Ah, shit. How long was I out?”

“Twelve minutes.” Was Spock’s response, glad to have moved on from his embarrassing lapse in control. Leonard’s response wasn’t forthcoming, so Spock chanced a glance at his roommate, only to find his mouth wide open, eyes closed, and seemingly struggling for breath. Spock’s basic first aid training kicked in, fully aware that humans, much like vulcans, required a constant supply of oxygen, and he began to thump at Leonard’s back, the angle much too awkward for him to apply the force necessary to dislodge whatever may have been blocking the med student’s airways. Except, the med student seemed to have cleared his airways on his own. And was using his perfectly clear airways to yell at Spock.

“The hell’re you doin’? Coulda seriously hurt me with that goddamn “superior vulcan strength” you won’t shut up about! Ain’t a fella allowed t’yawn in his own damn bedroom?”

Spock quickly stood up from the bed, and Leonard watched as the relaxed stance the vulcan had had previously completely vanished. “You appeared to be in respiratory distress. The training I have thus far received in first aid on humans required the first thing to do in such a situation would be-“

“Dammit Spock, I’m a med student, I know what t’do when someone can’t fucking breathe! I, oddly enough, was breathing just fine!”

Spock’s chin lifted fractionally, the last of his near-tender demeanour hardening. “Incorrect. Your chest ceased to rise and fall regularly, you had opened your mouth for maximum oxygen intake and yet you did not inhale, and the distress weakened you insofar as you were forced to close your eyes.”

Leonard looked at him, incredulous. “I yawned.”

“I do not understand. Does this correlate with your -“

“I yawned, you thick-skulled-“ Leonard stopped and took a breath, scrubbing his face with his hand. “Don’t worry, s’just an unfortunate, involuntary response of humans.”

Spock recognised he was being quoted, but unlike previous, malicious quotations made by various humans (including this patprticular one), his roommate did not seem to be trying to get a rise out of him, so he decided to retaliate. “That is the nature of most human responses, voluntary or otherwise.”

The outraged eyebrow that was slowly creeping up Leonard’s forehead was completely undermined by the sleepy grin that was taking over his entire face. “I’m not going to get much more study for this assent done, huh?”

“Assessment?”

“Yeah, the thing we’ve been studying for.” Leonard looked confused, but Spock’s head tilt betrayed his own befuddlement. 

“You referred to it previously as an exam.” His arms crossed his chest, marring his perfect posture slightly. It looked to Leonard that, despite his confusion, his roommate was more relaxed than he had been. 

“Yeah, an exam, an assessment, no difference, is there?”

Spock would later deny the look he gave Leonard was ‘incredulous’, Leonard would exaggerate his expression into one of absolute shock when retelling the tale to Jim the following evening. “There is a considerable difference, Leonard. Considering the brevity of this particular elective, the only grade that might impact your final score will be the final examination. Assessments in such a relatively insignificant elective will not affect your final grade in any serious manner.”

“It’s a matter of pride, Spock.” Leonard smiled, shaking his head. “Gotta keep up appearances.”

Spock glowered down at his roommate, the expression so slight that Leonard didn’t notice it at all. The silence strung out for a moment longer than absolutely necessary before Spock sat down at the foot of Leonard’s bed. “Pride is illogical, McCoy.”

Leonard snorted, shaking his head. “Pride and spite are the only things that keep me going, take ‘em away and I wouldn’t do a thing.” 

He watched as Spock’s eyebrow crept upwards, his head tipping lightly towards him. “Your finger brushed my collarbone earlier, when you touched my robes.”

Leonard went a bright red, and his respiratory distress seemed genuine this time. He leapt off of the bed, putting the distance of the width of the room between them. “Fucking shit, Spock? Why didn’t y’tell me! Fucking touch-telepathy, that was probably stupidly invasive, wasn’t it? Shit, shit, shit! I’m sorry. I’m fucking dense, I thought- I don’t know what I was doing, shouldn’t’ve gone near you-”

“Calm yourself Leonard-”

“And now you’re too polite to call me out on it, goddammit, we had lectures on proper conduct with vulcans, fuck-”

“Leonard.” Spock had stood and walked over to the human. Leonard was shocked when Spock put his hand on his shoulder. “There is no offence taken, do you understand?”. Leonard seemed to have lost his voice, but nodded. “I only brought up the incident because I sensed only concern and concentration from you through the contact. There was no bitterness, no concern for your pride or reputation. You saw your patient and thought of nothing but how best to administer effective and efficient treatment.”

Leonard had not made any indication of wanting to brush off his hand, so Spock decided to return to the personal space he had occupied while Leonard had been scanning him earlier. Leonard blinked several times, eyes crossing slightly to stare at the tip of Spock’s nose, only an inch, maybe less, from his own. His mouth suddenly went dry, and he swallowed hard, once. Spock’s nose had never looked so kissable. He shook his head- not an appropriate thought to be having while Spock was, wait, what was Spock saying? Leonard could hear him speaking, but his brain wasn’t processing the words correctly. Or at all. He thought maybe he was complimenting him, or maybe trying to get Leonard to explain his dry, almost self-critical comment. Hell, Spock could be reciting Shakespeare for all Leonard knew. Or cared. The vulcan’s voice was deeper than it was normally, more like it was when he had been sleepily pouring his tea earlier, less like it had been for their shared life up until today. The vibration of this deeper voice reminded him of the purring, the utter relaxation and warmth that had accompanied those vibrations, and... and Spock was still talking and Leonard still had no idea what he was saying because his mouth was moving very nicely, had his mouth always moved that nicely?

“BONES!” That voice would pull Leonard out of any dazed stupor he could possibly fall into. That voice, with that tone always meant one of two things. Jim needed his help, or Jim had done something he needed to confess to that would probably piss Leonard off. “BONES? YOU HOME?”

Spock had somehow managed to perch himself on the edge of Leonard’s desk, textbook and notes in hand, pointedly not looking at Bones. Rolling his eyes, Leonard walked out into the living area. “What the fuck have you done, Jim?” 

“Bones!” Jim practically bounced over to the med student, which meant he’d absolutely fucked something up that was going to piss him off. Clapping his shoulder playfully, Jim used the momentum of his bounce to swing himself around Bones, heading for his room. “You’re not going to believe what a weird mix-up there’s been, man! So, look, I-why, hello, Mr.Spock!” Jim glanced over his shoulder with an “i-cannot-believe-you-got-the-hot-guy-we’ve-both-been-crushing-on-into-your-room’ look on his face, his mouth slightly open and his eyes comically large in mock disbelief. “What’s a hot guy like you doing in a dingy place like this?” He had turned his impish gaze back on Spock, gesturing vaguely around Leonard’s room as he mentioned the ‘dingy place’.

Spock’s face remained impassive, not betraying the flash of amusement he always felt when the younger human flirted blatantly with him. “Vulcans’ core temperatures are, on average, actually lower than that of humans.”

Where Leonard would’ve snapped back a witty counter attack in order to incite a fascinating debate, Jim simply leaned right into the lewd implications only he could draw from such a droll, basic fact. “Are you saying that you think Bones and I are hot, Mr.Spock?”. The man had far more confidence in his charismatic abilities than any other human Spock had seen knocking their own glasses off of their face when discussing something passionately with a lecturer.

Spock was about to fire back a response -noting in the back of his mind that of the friendships he had deliberately built with a select few humans in the hopes of appeasing his mother, the ones he had formed with Jim and Leonard, though not particularly strong yet, brought him a feeling of completion- when Leonard came into the room, red-faced and rolling his eyes. “Shut up, Jim, you’ll make him uncomfortable. Vulcans don’t flirt, that’d require expression of emotion.”

Spock raised an eyebrow at Leonard, mildly puzzled. Had Leonard not recognised their discussion before Jim had arrived for what it was? Was his respect and admiration of the medical student not clear?

“What is it you’ve done, Jim?” Bones had leaned himself against the door frame, staring fixedly at his ex-roommate, who was glancing between Spock and Bones with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. 

“Well, I was going to apologise for a stupid thing I did, but seeing as it wound up with all three of us in a room with a bed, I’d say no apologies needed.” Jim couldn’t keep a straight face delivering that line, his flirtatious demeanour crumbling into pure giddiness. “Sorry, sorry, I’ll stop. S’just weird seeing the two of you together, it’s like you guys exist separately in my mind, and seeing you getting cosy in Bones’s room is just so wacky-“

“Jim!” Bones’s bark made Jim laugh even harder, and Spock allowed the corner of his mouth to twitch ever so slightly as Jim’s merriment grew and Leonard became more and more flustered. These humans affected Spock more than he’d care to admit, and watching them interact brought a sense of contentedness over him. “It’s fucking crazy o clock in the morning, what in the hell could’y’ve done that y’need to confess so bad?”

“Small scheduling error, Bones, no big deal! In my defence, I didn’t realise how late it is, I was reading this really cool book that Galia’s sister sent her, so far it’s been absolutely gripping, can’t put it down-“

“Jim.”

His blue eyes darted around the room nervously as he giggled anxiously. “You don’t have a test tomorrow, Bones, I do. I fucked up and logged it in the PADD you’d loaned me instead of my own PADD, so I guessed you got a reminder and I know your memory is shit outside of your studies, so I figured you’d be up cramming-“

“Jim-boy, what’d you just say? Because if you said what I think you said, I’m going to-“

“Leonard, I would not recommend engaging in a physical altercation with Jim. He has considerable more experience in such matters.”

Spock felt a shiver down his spine as Leonard’s dangerously icy glare turned on him. “Are you sayin’ y’don’t think I can take ‘im, Spock?”

“That is not what he said Bones! C’mon, how bad was it? You got to bond with your roommate, and now my two best friends are on speaking terms, at least. Sounds like a win-win to me!”

“I’m gonna need the two of y’all to get the fuck outta my room, if I’m going to get any sleep at all before tomorrow.” 

Jim’s smirk got even more mischievous, the glint in his eye almost dangerous. “Maybe we’ve planned for you to get no sleep tonight, Bones.”

“I resent your implicating me in your antics, Jim.” Spock was definitely grinning, goddammit! There’s no way a vulcan could manoeuvre their mouths any further into a vague smiling shape.

“You’re not denying it-”

“Both of y’all need to shut up and go to bed, it’s late.” Leonard groused, having had enough of Jim’s playfulness, which was a bit too much for how late it was. Also, the thoughts and feelings he was invoking in Leonard with his meaningless teasing were enough for him to overthink on for the rest of his life. Jim’s pout made Bones fully aware of just how much he wouldn’t mind kissing his best friend, which reminded him of how close he had been to doing just that to his roommate, which reminded him of how it was just his fucking luck to be attracted to the two people he most defiantly shouldn’t be attracted to. The two most unattainable people on campus. He was probably a sadist. Jim sat next to Spock on his bed, and Spock had turned to mutter something in Jim’s ear. On his bed. He was absolutely a sadist. 

“That’s a good point, Spock. I think it’ll be difficult to strong-arm him into spending more time with the two of us as well.”

Spock had the good grace to look up at Leonard with what could be interpenetrated as an apologetic expression. “Those were not my... exact words.”

“I’m a med student, not a socialite, dammit!” Jim was sitting very close to Spock, they looked so right together it was sickening, and Spock was clearly mooning over Jim, and Bones... Bones needed to sleep. Now. “I’ll come over to your place tomorrow after I get out of the labs at six, Jim. If Spock comes, he comes. I don’t care.” He did care. A lot. 

“Seeing as two of us live in these quarters, it would be more logical for us to reconvene here, would it not?” 

“Nah, Jim’s got a better replicator.”

“I’ve also got better taste in holos, so...”

“You absolutely do not-”

“I don’t think watching documentaries counts as a relaxing night in-”

“I shall be there, eighteen-hundred hours.” Spock interrupted, his expression doing nothing to ease the daydreams determinedly banging at Leonard’s subconscious as he looked between the two humans. That odd eyelid-thing slid open and shut twice, which Leonard probably shouldn’t have found cute when he didn’t know whether or not it was hurting Spock. But he did, nonetheless. 

Jim clapped Spock’s shoulder, which stopped the eyelid blinking, and resulted in a rather cat-like freezing of his entire frame. “Excellent!” Jim jumped up, bouncing out the bedroom door. “It’s a date, gentlemen!” And he was gone before Leonard’s outraged spluttering could hold him up. 

“It’s not a- dammit, we’re not- Spock-”

Spock stopped to place his hand on Leonard’s shoulder, deliberately making eye-contact. “To borrow Jim’s turn of phrase, ‘it’s a date’, Leonard.” 

And that rendered Leonard totally speechless, left staring mutely at Spock’s retreating back. What the fuck kind of emotional fuckery had he gotten himself into?  

[acidwaste]

hey so it seems i’ve forgot to do a l o t of tag memes, and i’m lucky i drafted a big bunch of them! lots of questions overlapped so i did my best to answer in different ways, sorry for the lateness! also @ the people that tagged me here, i wouldn't hesitate to kill for you

@natcaptor / @gayspaced

name: leon or lionel!

nicknames: literally the only nickname I’ve been referred to is “big gay” and like. word!

gender: im pretty sure im a guy, i have been kinda 🤔🤔🤔 abt my gender identity since around november-ish though

star sign: sagittarius!

height: 6’1! i’m told that I’m tall but my uncle is 6’7 so...

time: 3:36pm rn! ive been watching video essays and binging music all afternoon

birthday: december 9th!

favourite bands: animal collective, beach house, camp cope, car seat headrest, death grips, fleet foxes, florence + the machine, gang of youths, glass animals, gorillaz, hop along, iceage, idles, kero kero bonito, mgmt, miike snow, modest mouse, run the jewels, superorganism, the avalanches, the cat empire, the go! team, the mountain goats, the wombats, xiu xiu

favourite solo artists: alex lahey, anderson .paak, ariana grande, billie eilish, bjork, cashmere cat, charli xcx, courtney barnett, cupcakke, d.r.a.m, eric taxxon, frank ocean, gfoty, hatchie, janelle monae, jeff rosenstock, joanna newsom, jorja smith, jpegmafia, kacey musgraves, kali uchis, kendrick lamar, khalid, kimbra, lorde, mac demarco, madeon, mick jenkins, mitski, oneohtrix point never, perfume genius, ravyn lenae, rina sawayama, serpentwithfeet, sophie, st. vincent, sza, vince staples

song stuck in my head: caramelo duro | miguel // kali uchis! its a bop, miguel is one of the few singers that can convincingly make sex jams

last movie i watched: deadpool 2! it was even better than the first, which is a feat in itself ngl

when did i create my blog: december 2016??? i only started using it properly in february last year tho

last thing i googled: “im in my mums car broom broom.” dont @ me

do i have any other blogs: yeah, plenty actually!! i have blogs for aesthetic (@moltenstar), general inspo (@wverns), flight rising (@szarising, kinda inactive?), and overwatch (@blackhardts) tbh the vast majority of my ‘sideblogs’ are just saved urls H

do i get asks: when i say stupid shit like “rung has the ass of a dilf but the dick of a cockroach”

why i chose my url: that one panel where kobd have a vacation at the acid wastes because fuck its finally canon babey!

following: 1,767, which is kinda horrifying!!

followers: 890?? somehow??? thats almost One Whole Thousand and i don't even make content

average hours of sleep: around 6 or 7!! n e v e r more though

lucky number: 43 and 64!!

instruments: i'm too poor to afford music lessons or instruments jsbddsjknfs

what am i wearing: a grey shirt and nothing on my bottom half so my [redacted] is hanging tf out, i should put on some damn clothes

dream job:  oooo uhhh, i’m studying to get an education degree rn because i’d love to teach children (around grade 3-4s preferably because i'm too jittery to handle anyone younger and older kids probs won't listen to me as much as i lack plenty of assertiveness), but!! i’d honestly love to be a musician, one of those underground ones that get lots of critical acclaim

dream trip: one day i wanna gather up some friends and just go on a road trip! idm where we go to, as long as we just have fun and just! adventure!

favourite foods: rare steak, mashed potatoes, eggs, and energy shakes made with like. fruit / cheese / yoghurt / oats / chia seeds ! protein is a large part of my diet

nationality: new zealand, but living in australia

favourite song right now: best part | daniel caesar // h.e.r - gosh i need to re-listen to daniel’s album again, i don’t remember this beautiful song being there and that’s a crime

@damndesi / @novarebel / @luciform-philogynist

APPEARANCE - I am 5'7 or taller - I wear glasses - I have at least one tattoo (but I am getting a tā moko in December, I believe) - I have at least one piercing (planning to get a nose ring, like a bull!) - I have blonde hair - I have brown eyes - I have short hair - My abs are at least somewhat defined (b a r e l y) - I have or had braces

PERSONALITY - I love meeting new people - People tell me I am funny - Helping others with their problems is a big priority of mine - I enjoy physical challenges - I enjoy mental challenges - I am playfully rude to people I know - I started saying something ironically and now I can’t stop saying it - There is something I would change about my personality

ABILITY - I can sing well - I can play an instrument - I can do over 30 pushups without stopping (barely) - I am a fast runner - I can draw well - I have a good memory - I am good at doing math in my head - I can hold my breath underwater for over a minute - I have beaten at least 2 people arm wrestling - I can make at least 3 recipes from scratch - I know how to throw a proper punch

HOBBIES - I enjoy sports - I’m on a sports team at my school or somewhere else - I’m in an orchestra or choir at my school or somewhere else - I have learned a new song in the past week - I exercise at least once a week - I have gone for runs at least once a week in warmer months - I have drawn something in the past month - I enjoy writing - Fandoms are my #1 priority - I do some form of Martial arts

EXPERIENCES - I have had my first kiss - I have had alcohol (tastes like shit) - I have scored a winning point in a sport - I have watched an entire TV series in one sitting - I have been at an overnight event - I have been in a taxi - I have been in the hospital or ER in the past year - I have beaten a video game in one day - I have visited another country - I have been to one of my favorite bands concerts

MY LIFE - I have one person that I consider to be my Best Friend - I live relatively close to my school/work - My parents are still together - I have at least one sibling - I live in the United States - There is snow where I live right now - I have hung out with a friend in the past month - I have a smart phone - I own at least 15 CDs - I share my room with someone

RELATIONSHIPS - I am in a Relationship - I have a crush on a celebrity - I have a crush on someone I know - I’ve been in at least 3 relationships - I have never been in a Relationship - I have admitted my feelings to a crush - I get crushes easily - I have had a crush for over a year - I have been in a relationship for over a year - I have had feelings for a friend

RANDOM - I have break-danced - I know a person named Jamie - I have had a teacher that has a name that is hard to pronounce - I have dyed my hair - I’m listening to a song on repeat right now - I have punched someone in the past week - I know someone who has gone to jail - I have broken a bone (do fractures count?) - I have eaten a waffle today - I know what I want to do in life - I speak at least two languages (not fluently) - I have made a new friend in the past year

@smstransformers

age: 16

birthplace: auckland, nz

current time: 4:19 pm rn!!!

drink you last had: i just skulled half a liter of water whoops

favourite song: jesus etc. | wilco if we're talking abt an all-time favourite

grossest memory: accidentally swallowing a bee when i was seven years old (somehow nothing bad happened?)

horror, yes or no: not unless it’s an incredibly tame horror t b h, my threshold for scariness is very low

in love: i believe so!

jealous of people: lots of times, over really dumb things

love by first sight or should I walk by again: i believe that infatuation can exist at first sight but true love not so much. wish that could happen tho :C

middle name: shane!

siblings: my sister is eight years old, and my brother is seven!

one wish: EZ, make my anxiety disappear, i’d have a much more productive life

song i last sang: jupiter | haiku hands

time i woke up: 7:13, woke up immediately because i usually like to wake at 6:30

underwear colour: blue + purble

vacation destination: auckland / kingston / sydney!

worst habit: not remembering to make my goddamn bed, it looks like garbage

favourite food: mashed potatoes….

zodiac sign: sagittarius !!!

@alyonian

relationship status:

at the moment i’m single! and while being in a relationship sounds brilliant, the last two relationships i was involved in? didn’t work out to say the least, lucky i’m still young

favourite colour:

it’s been emerald green for the longest time but orange seems to be dethroning it at a steady pace

lipstick or chapstick:

i haven’t used chapstick since i was six but i probably should use it again, water is my substitute rn fdghdgh - and i haven’t ever used lipstick in any capacity? so i’d have to go with the former

last song i listened to:

the space traveller’s lullaby | kamasi washington - i’m trying to get through his second album rn (i left off on the second disk yesterday) and while everything he makes is undeniably amazing, it’s? a three hour album? i don’t have the attention span for his spiritual jazz, as great as it is

last movie:

monsters inc is playing on the television right now, i’ll go with that! the animation aged kinda badly but it’s still such a fun movie! sidenote: james p. sullivan? a childhood crush, so this gives me memories

top 3 tv shows/podcasts/comics:

i rarely, if ever, venture into these forms of media but! if i had to answer, i’d say;

unbreakable kimmy schmidt / parks & recreation / luke cage

taz / mbmbam (i havent like. watched a full episode of either but they seem cool,)

tf idw / …………. yeah that’s it, i’ve never read anything else. probably should!

additional favs:

my friends, writing (in theory), listening to video essays, learning music theory + instruments and understanding audio production software

top 3 bands / artists:

HHH okay if i had to limit my choices to just three artists, uh. lorde, the mountain goats, and sophie. i couldnt even fit janelle in i hate th is

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

@alyonian

color(s): light colors are always nice and pleasant, though anything peachy and sandy are the best! orange (specially pastel orange) is like. the best thing

last band t-shirt i bought: usually merchandising is very expensive and i dont have the money to accommodate that, but like. i do recall having a wiggles shirt when i was five. i wore it all the time, shjdjgsksd im sure that counts

last band i saw live: i almost went to splendor in the grass last year with family, which wasn't only cool since i’ve never been out of the state since i immigrated - the festival was in queensland, which is around a two hour flight from victoria - but the lineup was pretty fuckin lit too! the xx, haim, peking duk, tash sultana, future islands, vallis alps, a.b original,, i was p excited! unfortunately my uncle fell ill and so they had to give the tickets to extended family :( otherwise, i haven't been to a single concert in my life

last song i listened to: street fighter mas | kamasi washington - up to this song on the album and i really fuckin dig this! also the video is hypnotizing

last movie i watched: monsters inc is about to finish and up next is monsters university! which like…. honestly, this is an extremely unpopular opinion but, i like it just as much as the original? my opinion might be skewed because i’m a monster [hugger], but i like everything abt the movie! except for the finale of the scare games and the last five minutes of the movie, both were just. dreadful.

last three tv shows i watched: if aggretsuko counts that’s the last series i watched of my own volition, which is a miracle in itself considering that’s legit only the second anime i’ve watched to completion (the first being shirokuma cafe, which i probably need to re-watch). otherwise, the last two shows i had beared witness to were thirteen reasons why and queer eye bc my cousin put them on! that first show i could completely do without but queer eye is iconique

last 3 characters i identified with: grimlock (legit. all of them), urdnot grunt (mass effect) and vector the crocodile (sth), i’m not sure what this says about me other than Big

book(s) i’m currently reading: i’m reading ‘maus’ by art spiegelman at the moment, for the third time i believe? i believe my classmates are supposed to be writing an essay on this next term and shit, this novel is heartbreaking, i haven't been this emotional when reading a book than… ever, really. it’s a recommendation of the highest caliber

@victorion

name: leon / lionel, i picked up the second name because i was in a server with an admin that was also a Leon™

nickname: besides ‘Big Gay’ i also have the nickname ‘lemon lion’ which is! nice!!

zodiac sign: archer man

height: Tall™

language(s) spoken: english / some maori + italian

fav fruit: watermelons (only when in season)

fav scent: the smell of a freezer tbh? it just smells Nice i don’t know how to properly explain it

fav season: spring! the breezes are welcoming without being overbearingly freezing

fav color: ornge,,,,

fav animal: SHARKS + CROCS + FERRETS

coffee, tea or hot chocolate: tea! with some milk tho

average hrs of sleep: too little

fav fictional character: One character?????? uhhhhhhh……. like. biggest cc right now is either idw skids or oz from monster prom

no. of blankets you sleep with: depending on my mood but i’d say the average is like, 3??

fav songs: i quickly whipped up some songs i listen to

fav artists: i came to the realization that i like acts that are considered ‘bad’ like maroon 5/drake/lil yachty etc in specific doses… i wouldn't call them good yet, but! i have no beef and thats good

fav books: remember ‘where the wild things are’??? that shit was like. literal childhood, man.. :happytears: i really need to look for a copy again

@thonany-klieme

name: leon / lionel, interchangeable really

gender: male, im probs an nb guy

star sign: sagittarius!

height: 6’1

sexuality: gay??? im not sure, im mostly attracted to other guys but i have had very brief crushes on girls + nb people? sexuality’s confusing so im gonna just latch to the gaybel (gay label) for now

lock screen image: its the album cover of 1992 deluxe by princess nokia, tho it was “T Hanos” a few days ago since i change it often - my home screen is venom but his torso says ‘fuck machine’

ever had a crush on a teacher: no??

where do you see yourself in ten years: ideally i’m teaching kids math n english, realistically i’m probably going down with the political climate

if you could go anywhere, where would you go: new zealand!! or the netherlands

what was your favorite halloween costume: halloween is not big at all where i live, the only time i tried trick or treating was when i was like 7?? i threw a bedsheet on myself and pretended to be a ghost, though since there were no eyeholes + the sheet was blue, it looked more like i was just a moving lump

last kiss: never had one

have you ever been to las vegas: nah and i dont plan to?? how do you handle regular days of 40C wtf

favorite pair of shoes: i have this pair of jandals that ive worn for a fair bit longer than my other pair of shoes, tho i only wear them in summer + very warm nights

favorite book: ngl its. ‘the very hungry caterpillar’ by eric carle. i just, love it alot and i cant explain w h y

[geminimoonbeamx]

Naive: Part 1

A/N: I’m so freaking happy you guys seemed to like the intro, I wrote this and a few other “chapters” up in one night! Hopefully I can get you guys as hyped as I am for this story😭💛

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: Just cursing in this chapter because I have the mouth of a sailor. The stirrings of sexual tension. The big stuffs coming next time though you guys I promise lol

Summary: As the goddaughter of Tony Stark you were no stranger to the Avengers, but when you meet the newest member- you’re a little more then intrigued. Unfortunately for him, Bucky Barnes has caught your eye.

���💘💘💘💘

You and Pepper sit in the back of a sleek black Mercedes as it winds through the city, towards Manhattan and the Tower.

It had only been a few years since you’d been in New York but damn, had your forgotten how small this city made you feel. You stare out of the window, your eyes tilted up at many sky scrapers, the sun glaring through your oversized sunglasses as you look at the sky.

It reminds you of a canopy, the way the buildings seem to box you in. An urban jungle that smelled like human pee and chronic exhaustion.

“Are you excited for the internship?” Pepper asks you with a grin and you nod enthusiastically, biting your bottom lip.

What she was talking about was the internship you’d managed to score at the American Museum of Natural History.

“So fucking excited. I mean- I know they’re going to have me doing chump work. Since I only just got my bachelors degree, but the boost that it’s giving my career is insane. Like, I’ll be working on my graduates degree at the same time so I’m hoping if I can make a good impression they’ll refer me to the Smithsonian”

You cant help but babble, your mouth going a mile a minute.

School had always been important to you. It’d been drilled into you by your scientist of a mother, and your college professor of a grandmother that education was the most valuable thing in this world. You’d luckily inherited your moms bright nature, and had graduated high school as the Valedictorian…

Which always made you laugh because you’d ditched more then a third of your senior year to smoke pot with your friends in your car and had still managed to pass top of your class.

College was harder, just like you knew it was going to be. But you still goverened a high grade point average. Double majoring in Sociology and History and minoring in Art Forensics.

Because you’d known, ever since you’d watched Indiana Jones when you we’re six, that all you wanted to do was work in Museums. You wanted to be surrounded by ancient scrolls and mystical tombs. You wanted your life to be the adventure you’d mapped it out to be in your head.

Plus the ide of your fat ass swinging around on vines and running from giant rolling death balls made you smile.

“That’s a lot to have on your plate at once. But if anyone can do it, it’s you. But just know if you neglect your flower girl duties, you will be replaced” Pepper jokes and you giver her a “har har”

“You mean maid of honor duties” You verify.

“What? You cant be both? We also we’re thinking of having you be the ring bearer” You roll your eyes at the strawberry blonde who’s typing away at her blackberry. It’s such a familiar sight, a wave of nostalgia washes over you.

You’d spent a good chunk of your childhood looking up to her.

When the car pulls into the garage of what used to be Stark, but what was now Avengers tower you cant help but feel like you’re ten years olf again. Going to spend two weeks in the summertime with your “Tony Tino”

“So they should be out of their meeting in about twenty minutes, your bags are being brought to your room and the boxes got here a few days ago” Pepper confirms the plans to me as we make our way through the lush waiting room and into one of the many elevators.

“Okay, cool. I’ll just go start unpacking then-”

“Nope” She interjects and I shoot her a “why the hell not?” look.

“Tony said you should get something in your stomach. He know’s you never eat on planes” Pepper covers for herself quickly, not wanting you to see through her lie and ruin Tony’s surprise.

“Okay I guess. I’m not really hungry but you can show me the new kitchens. All he’s been talking about is how the upgrades we’re way cool” You seem to be tottaly oblivious wich makes her let out a metaphorical sigh of relief.

The kitchens are even more wicked then what Tony had told you and your eyes light up as you asses the huge room. The stainless steel and clean white walls making it look like something out of Star Trek.

“Hello Ms. Y/L/N” Fridays sing song robotic voice chimes from nowhere and you grin.

“Friday! How have you been?” You know she’s just a computer, just a hard drive, but you talk to her like she’s a real person.

Just like you used to do with Jarvis who, now, actually was a real person.

“I’ve been well, Ms. Y/L/N. Tony has missed you very much. He’s been very busy preparing for your stay. He’s instructed me to make sure you are fed because he knows you “barf” on airplanes. What can I have made for you? The chef’s specialty is French cusine”

You quirk your mouth at the word barf.

That was one time and you we’re fourteen. Would he ever let you forget it?

“Umm, just a bowl of fruit sounds good” You instruct her rolling your eyes at Pepper who insists you eat a more well rounded diet.

“Fine- and a yogurt”

You sit across Pepper, at one of the glass dining tables. You’d been hungrier then you’d realized and had eaten the entirety of the mixed fruit and yogurt happily. Your chatting about the NYU admissions when the door to the kitchens opens and people flooded in.

Those people being the Avengers- sans a couple members, but still, a decent(menacing) group. With Tony at the front.

The grin on his face is big- his eyes crinkling with crows feet as he approaches you, his arms dramatically open wide.

“Hey Tino!” You laugh as you hop down from the stool and walk over, giving him a tight squeeze. He wasn’t the tallest men, but was still much taller then you so you wrap your arms around his middle as he squeezes the life out of your head.

“Hey kiddo” He lets you go after a moment, putting a hand on your shoulder “How are you doing? Are you feeling better? Did you eat?” He looks you over as he speaks.

You look…different. Your hair is different, you’d cut at least a four or so inches off and it now sat just past your shoulders. It was lighter too.

“Yes god father, I ate. Chill out” You shake your head.

“You dyed your hair” It almost sounds like an accusation and you fight the urge to run your fingers through it self consciously.

Your hair had always reminded him so much of your moms…“It looks nice kid! Makes you look like you’re about thirty though”

“Don’t be mean to me!”

“I’m not- I’m not. I said it looks nice. Right Pepper, you heard that?” Tony looks to Pepper who’s still at the table, she just snorts at her fiancée.

“I think it brings out your eyes” Natasha pipes up as she comes up and gives you a short hug.

“Well thanks. At least someone here actually loves me. I missed you Nat, how have you been?”

And that’s how it goes, you making the rounds, reuniting with the people all around you.

Bruce blushes when you hug him tightly and ask him how things we’re hanging in the lab. Thor picks you up, as he always had, and told you how he missed his little lady. You think you hug Wanda the tightest. You’d kept in touch with her the most, you guys were close in age and you just clicked with her. You knew all about her little romance with Vision who you still had the urge to call Jarvis.

“You’ll always be Jarvis to me” You tell him. He, like Pepper, had watched you grow up.

Clint ruffles your hair in a way that makes you swat his hands away furiously. “How’ve you been, squirt?” Before Sam tells you you’d gotten a nice tan in Europe to which you cant help but bark a laugh at. “Okay creep” you punch his shoulder affectionately.

“Hey Steve” You beam at him reaching on the very tip of your toes to wrap him in a quick hug.

God, he’s still hot.

You’d had a thing for him back a few years ago. He was going through a rough patch and needed a friend and you had this inviting way about you that he’d melted into. It never got serious- you hadn’t even really kissed the guy but you’d been close.

You thought it would have been weirder seeing him again. Especially after the whole scene Tony had caused between the both of you but it wasn’t.

He still looked something akin to sunshine. His aura bright and golden.

And he was standing next to someone you’d never met- in person. But you knew exactly who the guy was.

You we’re a history major for fucks sake. Of course you knew who James Buchannan Barnes was.

“How’ve you been, Y/N? It’s been a while” Steve grins down at you.

“It really has, stranger. Thanks for keeping in contact. You know, I didn’t teach you how to properly text for nothing" You shoot at him, with no malice but it makes him shift uncomfortably on his feet.

“Yeah- I’m sorry. I should have checked in more it’s just been really hectic-” You watch him with a satisfied leer. You’d always loved making him squirm, and he just made it all too easy.

“You’re fine Steve” You wave him off “I get it. You’re still all technologically impaired. Guess I’m just not important enough for you”

You use that tone- the one that had always got him so worked up and he just puffs out a breath, shaking his head.

“That’s not- your messing with me” He catches on and you giggle and roll your eyes.

Oh, your sweet 40’s child.

“Always” You inform him before turning your attention to the man you hadn’t been formally introduced to yet and giving him a smile. That smile.

Bucky can see why you we’re known for being a flirt.

He’d just watched you work a room full of people, watched the way that the team reacted to your warmth. The way you seemed to have your own unique bond with everyone and he couldn’t lie- it was intriguing.

You’re pretty- in a way that he didn’t see a lot. Yeah, your bigger then he’d been expecting; all hips and thighs and a large bussom but there’s something eye catching about you. Maybe it’s the way your eyes are lined with sharp cat eye liner or the way your eyebrows arch. It reminds him of home, of the women that he’d grown up around.

“Hi, I’m Y/N” You hold your hand out to his. Your eyes are sparking with curiosity as he reaches down to take it.

“I’m-” He starts and you cut him off, your playful nature coming out.

“ Sargent James Buchannan Barnes? I’ve been learning about you since like kindergarten!”

“That so? You can call me Bucky” he drawls out.

“Bucky. It’s really nice to meet you. Any friend of Splangles here is a friend of mine. I mean unless you’re as boring as he is”

You really we’re a charmer. And he thought he’d been charming back in the day. You could run circles around him.

He can’t help the smooth chuckle that leaves his throat as Steve protests with an half offended “hey!”

“I’m just kidding, Steve. You know I love you!” You pinch his cheek, your nose scrunching before turning away from them and back to Tony.

Not before telling Bucky you were “Excited to pick his brain sometime”

Bucky’s gaze is focused on your retreating figure. He feels a little…dizzy. The way you feel when you get off a ride at Luna Park.

He doesn’t think he’s felt like this anytime this decade.

Steve shoots him a knowing look.

The Y/N effect.

“Told ya’ jerk” Steve pushes Bucky’s shoulder in a friendly manner as he passes him and Bucky shakes him, and the weird head high off with a quick “Punk”.

Tony hasn’t stopped talking since that first moment you’d been reunited and you hang onto every word. You’d always loved this about him; that he’d talk to you. And like, really conversation. Not just treat you like your were some dumb kid who couldn’t keep up.

You end up leaving the rest of the “Scooby gang” and you follow him to where you’re assuming is his office.

“Okay but how are they going to try and pass Government restrictions on you? It doesn’t make any sense? If they had half a brain they’d label you an international task force- but I mean then you’d have to deal with the UN more I guess. And aren’t they still super salty about the accords?…”

Tony’s over being impressed with the way your brain works. He’s been over it since you were eight and you’d called your teacher a facist.

“Super salty” Tony affirms with a sigh “But at least we have SHEILD backing us now. And there’s some new members. Oh yeah and Thors phycotic brother promised he won’t try to invade earth anymore”

You snort “Well that’s a relief I guess. He’s finally getting his younger sibling syndrome in check”

“I think Bruce scarred him for life”

“Good. He needed it. Where’s Rhodey? I noticed that he wasn’t down stairs” you ask the question that been bugging you.

“Oh yeah. He had a physical therapy appointment but he’ll be gracing us with his presence for dinner”

“How’s he doing?”

“You know Rhodey. He’s kicking PTs ass. He should be able to get back in the suit in a few months”

That makes you happy. Like genuinely so happy and relieved because you loved the shit out of Rohdey and you’d been really worried about him after the…accident.

“Yeah. He’s such a bad ass- uh hey Tino, where are we going? I thought your office was on the 47th floor?” You watch as the light around the 15 lights up, announcing your stop.

“I thought we’d make a detour. So I know you wanted to get your own apartment- but rent in the city is outrageous and you decided to humor your dear old god dad… So I improvised” Tony explains and your whole face is twisted up in confusion because what is he even talking about?

“What?” You hiss as the elevator doors ding open.

The room that’s revealed has your jaw dropping and harsh gasp ripping itself from your throat.

“Think of it as a graduation present” Tony’s happy- your reaction is just what he’d wanted.

You looked childlike as you took in the space. There were large, floor length windows that lined the furthest wall- the natural lighting was something out of a dream. The couches were plush and charcoal colored, an array of throw pillows lining them. There were white furry rugs and marble accents and gold lining to everything. The color scheme you were obsessed with.

“Tony oh my god! I love it!” You squeak. How had he gotten your tastes so well? “This is why pepper started following all my Pinterest boards huh?”

“We wanted it to feel like your own place. There’s a bed room and a bathroom back down that hall”

You turn to him, your bottom lip jutting out.

“Don’t cry!” He protests and you sniffle dramatically.

“I just- I can’t believe you had the time to do all of this. Thank you so so so so much, Tino. I love it. Best graduation gift ever”

He’d always spoiled you, a fact that you weren’t ignorant to but this… It almost felt like too much.

“I’m just happy you’re staying here. I think NYU and the internship will be really good for you. And Pepper needs someone to talk wedding plans with cause she’s staring to make my ears bleed with that shit-”

“And you want to keep an eye on me while I withdrawal?” You guess, saying what he hadn’t.

The atmosphere in the room seems to suddenly shift.

He chomps his teeth together with an audible snap and nods.

“We don’t know the entirety of side effects from coming off that drug so yes. I want you here while you do it. Even though I still don’t think it’s the best idea” Tony uses that parental voice you hate on you and you sigh and walk over to one of the Windows. Staring down bustling streets below you.

“I know, I don’t know if it’s the best idea either but somethings gotta’ give. I’m willing to try anything at this point…I don’t want to feel like this anymore” you whisper the last part.

Tony watches you, his arms folded over his chest as he deflates.

“Okay- just like I told you over the phone we’ll try it. Ween you off slowly. But if it gets too intense we’re starting them back up again”

I’m not gonna lose you too, is what he doesn’t say.

No matter how bad the idea of it scares you, you know it’s the best route. The only one you’ve got left.

—–

Dun dun dunnnnn. Y/N’s on drugs say what?! Trust me, it’s not what your thinking. Unless you’s a mind reader- then it’s exactly what your thinking. I’m thinking? We’re thinking?😂

Ps. My laptops acting super wonky so the tags should be up later! I promise I’ve got you guys lol! And continue to ask if you want to be tagged in upcoming parts.

https://xgminigypsy.tumblr.com/post/166595772104/naive-part-2 PART TWO

https://xgminigypsy.tumblr.com/post/166629591854/naive-part-3 PART THREE

https://xgminigypsy.tumblr.com/post/166664664834/naive-part-4 PART FOUR

https://xgminigypsy.tumblr.com/post/166703266654/naive-part-5 PART FIVE

[sbcojn]

30 random facts about me for the sake of finding ourselves in the so called century of the self

...and because i am effectively trying to keep myself from studying for a statistics exam and from falling down a negative spiral of thoughts.

caution: if over sharing people annoy you do not read this, keep scrolling or log off. 

i have a long a*s first name, which sounds like math and let's everyone, who ever reads my name and who has not met me in person yet, think that i'm a dude. thx mom for adding a dutch variation to it as well and for wanting your kid to have an extravagant unisex name, which no one is able to pronounce correctly! :') 

my mom, my grandmas and my second oldest cousin are my idols and i talk about them all the time. i understand that it's creepy and annoying to my social environment but i can't help it and idgaf! i adore them, i want to be them and i love them soOoOo much! every single one of them is such a badass boss lady, who is not afraid of working hard, making sacrifices and never asking for anything in return. just by watching them handle life they taught me everything i need to know about it. i admire how they each are so comfortable with themselves that they don't ever feel the need to justify who they are and what they do. i am very blessed to have them in my life and to be related to them.

i lived in indonesia until i was 3-4ish. 

during an exchange program from hotel management school in switzerland my mom somehow fell in love with that country and moved here with me. 

here she met my stepdad, who for me is my real dad. he adopted me as soon as he met my mom and treated me as i was one of his own. i actually have most of my characteristic traits in common with my dad and that's why i hate when people remind me of the fact, that i am not blood related to him. just let me construct my own reality b*tches! i am thankful for everything he did for me and for all the sacrifices he made. in spite of being too young for that kind of responsibility he looked after his family with boldness and bravery. i love you more than everything and i am truly sorry for being such a hard a*s to you when i was little and when i was going through puberty lol! 

i have a little brother, who is 4 years younger than me. he is my true partner in crime and was ALWAYS on my side no matter what. i was so afraid when my parents told me that they are going to have another kid, because i thought that meant that they needed to get rid of me. but i was over the moon when he was born. he was such a cute fat a*s baby and i instantly felt the need to mother him when i was only four. lol sorry for treating you like a baby born bro! but i loved and still love you so much and i will always help you out like you did, no matter what happens! 

if you touch my family i will  D E L E T E  yours! 

when i was little i watched to many disney movies and sailor moon. i was  o b s e s s e d  once my dad caught me posing like sailor moon in front of the mirror and i wanted to die! another time he caught me singing disney songs on the balcony... and i didn't know how to speak english then. i only knew how to speak indonesian and german so i sang the songs in some kind of fantasy language, which to me sounded like english and tried to enact those dramatic singing scenes on the balcony or while looking out of my window.......

although i started my life as an extra af child i always acted shy in kindergarten and elementary school. through the entire time my teachers made it mandatory for me to visit an extra class for non-native speakers. for most of my childhood every teacher thought i could not properly speak german and i was too shy to tell them that i certainly could speak german. my parents were so confused because at home i would always order them around and as soon as i was in school i was even scared to breath too loudly. so fake though :') 

my chemical romance, nirvana, pearl jam, billy talent, radiohead, the flatliners, a day to remember, architects, new politics, jimmy eat world and paramore used to get me through every situation in puberty. i was kind of cocky and prided myself on my taste in music because i thought the music i listened to wAs So EmOtIonALLy dEep aNd No OnE mY aGe WouLD bE aBLe To ApPrEciAtE iTs dEpth. and to be honest, every time i listen to this kind of music now i am not able to appreciate it. it makes me sad and i am kind of emotionally stable now lol! kind of says a lot about the genius of this genre though but i can't do it anymore! listening to it takes my mind to places i don't want to go back to. thank you for your service but i am happy and became kind of an emotionally semi-stable mainstream b*tch, when it comes to music! k, thx, bye! lol

i have a scar on my forehead in between my eye brows. it was caused by playing hide and seek in the dark. me and my child hood friend thought this was a revolutionary idea and we got sooooo hyped. we ended up running into one another and her tooth finally got stuck in my forehead lol. 

i always did good at school but i don't remember how. i don't remember studying a lot. all i remember is how i couldn't focus on sh*t for longer than 5 minutes. this became a huge problem as soon as i entered middle school. from then on i always got in trouble with my teachers because they wanted to downgrade me but my parents never agreed to that. and they would always be angry at me for not doing enough for school but in fact i just didn't know how to effin' focus. i remember studying my butt off but still didn't know what i was doing exactly and somehow still managed to graduate grammar school after nearly dropping out twice and showing up for class for only like half of the time. since entering middle school i was an average to really really bad student, who got eaten from the inside by teenage angst and who had an attention span of a baby. after taking care of my ADD and growing up a little all i really want to do is study. but not math/statistics man. i still hate math though. i am one of the few asian people, who is bad at math. 

i love to consume pop culture in every format! in my opinion it is brilliant and entertaining. idgaf what everyone else thinks really. therefore...

i need to state that i am a huge supporter of kim k becoming a lawyer!!! yes, she is loaded but still the fact that she uses her platform and therefore her influence for a greater cause is more than admirable. as well as the fact that she has started to pursue a law degree after having four children, who are still small and managing a bunch of businesses at the same time. i mean studying law is hard af. just imagine being in your mid thirties, having to manage a dozen of businesses, keeping kanye west out of trouble, taking care of four small kids and studying law, while the world is publicly doubting you and hating on you for doing something more than great even. i mean i know people my age, who financially get supported by their parents, still live at home and have no other responsibilities other than their own education and they still can't do it. and i don't think it is something to be ashamed of because i know it is hard. but actually my whole point is that people love to hate on the kardashians and it gets boaaring. 

i actually think that ariana grande's music video to her song thank u next is a pop cultural masterpiece! 

i loved working at mcdonald's as a part-time job. i loved the people, who worked there. they were happy all the time and just cared about making enough money to look after their families. although mcdonald's literally stands for capitalism and commerce - there even is a term in political philosophy 'mcdonald's world' - and is one of the biggest corporations worldwide, i have never came across people, who are as precious as they are! they always looked out for one another and were all time ready to f*ck up everyone, who messed with their co-workers. i have never experienced a better working-environment since then. 

i am 25 years old and i still love playing sims. while i'm at it i love to watch dr. phil. recently i just spent my whole tip money on expansion packs. i am not even ashamed. but sometimes i have trouble adjusting to the real world after a gaming session. while walking around in the city i get inspired by buildings, which just make me wanna go home and build it. like what are friends, i don't need friends, i just want to build an imaginary fancy ass house. i also get upset about the fact that there is no cheat code in real life for deactivating your primary needs like sleep. i could have been a doctor and a piano prodigy by now man! or f*ckin' motherlode my bank account at least if you know what i'm sayinnnnn'. 

when i was little i dreamed of dying my hair blonde one day, getting fair skin, having blue eyes and a f*cking nose bridge. i hated my asian look. at some point i even got jealous of fellow asian people, whose skin was lighter than mine. then i went through a phase, when i kind of felt okay with how i looked but damned western beauty standards and mainstream media for making my five year old self and a lot of my other asian sisters feeling shitty about the way they looked. 

sex tourism was a huge part of why i struggled with my ethnic look as well. there were times, when i even felt slutty wearing skinny jeans. and i think this needs no further explanation. thank u next. 

i love the praisintheasian movements! and i adore the man, who in my eyes initiated that movement, mr. eddie huang! since fotb came out i stalked him on every platform! and while stalking (lol) i gradually began to understand how i can be okay with being asian and even celebrate being asian. i want to have coffee with this dude and i have so many questions to ask him and so many things i want to tell him! asdflkasjfd!!! but i am 500% sure that if i would ever meet him i would cry, vomit, laugh and then run away. or maybe i would act so creepy that he will put a restraining order on me. so writing down the possible outcomes of meeting eddie huang - maybe let's just not meet my idol then. 

when i'm retired, i'll own a bistro somewhere in indonesia with the best coffee, wine and my favorite food. and i'll give my best to use organic and regional food items and at the same time plan the menu after a zero-waste logic. every monday there will be book club. and every friday there will be local artists performing. i would recruit my staff properly and pay them a respectable wage. my bistro would be kind of a local meeting point. lol how realistic. let a gal dream! (the percentage of that happening is like non-existent. that's why i bought myself the sims 4 expansion pack 'dine out' lmfao)

one of my favorite books of all time is 'woyzeck' by georg büchner. just look it up! i am not worthy of describing this master piece. 

i will always chose hanging out wherever comfortable and chill over going out and partying. one of the main reasons is that most of the people there annoy me. in zurich the consumption of cocaine is insane and i find it annoying, unnecessary and petty. just go home if you're tired man. there is nothing attractive about a cocky ass person, who is high on cocaine! and maybe consider therapy if you need that kind of stuff to feel better about yourself. not really feel like wasting my time and money at those kind of venues. i am too boring for you anyways. srynotsry. 

something that has bothered me for a long time now.... to all those kind of feminists, who get offended by my perfectly winged eyeliner: you missed the point sis. bye 

i never understood how doing things that make yourself feel cute could be offensive to anyone or violate anyone's ideology. just don't look at me then ffs. thx muaaaachhhh. 

i am really bad at lending books from the library. i consider not doing that anymore until the day i'll become rich. from that day on i will hire an assistant, who will keep track of borrowed books. 

every time before my period starts i cry about dumb ass shit. and i am okay with it now. i am trying to keep in mind and actively remember that having my period could be the reason for this monthly emotional outbreak. but an individual still can forget the cause of the outbreak, which leads to a dramatic downward spiral every.single.time. howwwwww biiishhhh

i will not attend school/work/anything if i forget my headphones. i will turn around, go back home and get my fucking headphones. and at times, when the cash is flooooowiiiin' i'll just buy a new pair even they only pair available would cost me 40 bugs. but that is like the highest price i'd pay though lol. (7 lunch menus at my uni thoooo)

if you force me to read something in a car i will vom all over you! 

astrology kind of fascinates me and i am done being embarrassed about it lol. 

[ringokhan]

Star Spangled F*cktards

... Or Why I Hate the 4th of July

I hate the 4th of July more than any other holiday. Hell, I hate it more than I hate tax day, and I'm a self-employed writer who never manages to set aside enough dough to pay the IRS or remember to apply for an extension. Yes, Independence Day sucks worse than the tax man.

What's to like about a day that celebrates our nation's birth (via the anniversary of the adoption of the Declaration of Independence by the Second Continental Congress), but does so via the detonation of explosives that follows drinking in the hot sun All. Damn. Day.? At least that's how the day plays out down here on the Redneck Riviera of the Florida Gulf Coast. Each year I pray for rain, and this year that asshole on the television promised me we'd get some—and we did—but my 4th of July still turned out to be the worst one yet.  

It all started on the eve of the big day while I was driving home from work—in the rain—when I suddenly felt the telltale bump-bumpity-thump of a flat tire. The rubber on the Fiero had been balder than my editor's head since Memorial Day, but this being tough times for freelance journalists of my ilk and political leanings, I couldn't put together quite enough scratch to spring for a new set.

I pulled over into the Amscot parking lot on Manatee Avenue to inspect the situation. It wasn't good. The steel belted radial looked as though a grenade had gone off inside of it. I had no umbrella or even plastic poncho to speak of, so I embraced the warm, sticky rain as it soaked my clothes and pulled the spare out of the trunk. It wasn't in much better shape than the other three but would have to suffice.

For the next 40 minutes, sweating like a whore in church despite the rain, I filthied myself up while proving that I would never work in a NASCAR pit crew—and not just because of my snobbish aversion to motorsports and the people who watch them (particularly those who advertise their favorite drivers on ball caps and window stickers).  

Just as I was finishing up, a man whose clothing suggested homelessness emerged from the Amscot to ask if I had a dollar he could borrow in order to get something to eat. Everyone knows that Ringo is down with supporting the less fortunate, but I was nonetheless unable to manage anything more than an angry look meant to say, Do I, the sweat-soaked gent in the pouring down rain who’s changing the blown out tire on a piece of shit (if classic) '86 Fiero, and changing it with a bald spare, no less, look like I'm well heeled enough to spare a generous thought let alone a buck?  He shook his head and mumbled, “fucking cheapskate,” as he walked off.

Properly shamed by the (possibly) homeless man—though it had by this time occurred to me that you usually come out of Amscot with money—I made for home. On the way, I stopped for a sixer of my new favorite beer, Motorworks Pulp Friction Grapefruit IPA—the perfect antidote to this blistering summer heatwave—but only after I'd checked the balance in my checking account on my phone to ensure that there would be enough left for the bargain basement tires that the Walmart oil, lube and tire clerk had just told me they could put on the next day, being the only tire center open on the 4th.

Hoping to settle in for the night, catch a buzz, drink a couple of tasty, refreshing beers and binge watch some Silicon Valley on the HBO Now account my roommate’s ex-girlfriend had forgotten she'd programmed into our Smart TV, I was halfway there only to be awoken by the sound of what seemed to be large-caliber gunfire or possibly anti-aircraft missiles raining down from above. It had started already. Actually, the first signs of Redneck Christmas had presented themselves as early as Sunday, but the festivities had indeed begun in earnest by 10:45 p.m. on the 3rd.

To make matters worse, my roommate, who was out of town with his new girlfriend, had coaxed me into dog-sitting said girlfriend's boxer, Rufus, who, I shall make it known, has no affinity for fireworks and had pissed on the hardwood flooring (is there softwood flooring?) of the house we rent on three occasions by this point. He and the other dogs on the block—which often seem to outnumber the humans—were barking, whimpering and I suspect pissing more or less in unison through much of the night, giving us all a preview of what the 4th would bring, which is to say utter redneck misery.

Rufus whose best trick is impersonating a thoroughbred horse, while taking a piss.  

Actual Redneck Christmas started off the way the usual mornings in my neighborhood begin, which is to say to a chorus of barking dogs that their lazy asshole owners let out as early as 5:45 in the a.m., as to not have to put the beasts on a leash and walk them to the corner.

Being self-employed, I give myself the day off for all Federal and Jewish holidays (I'm not kosher or even Jewish for that matter, but they have a lot of holidays, which often seem to fall on weekdays, so I figure observance is the least I can do, given their historic plight). My disdain for dealing with the muckety-muck on Redneck Christmas notwithstanding, I had decided to go to the beach, as I do on most holidays. I knew I'd have to get there early, well ahead of the parade of morons who typically tend to spoil our national holiday by 2 p.m. when the island falls prey to a large assembly of low-brow, lite beer-drinking fucktards with expensively-modified pickup trucks emblazoned with fishing, NASCAR and/or “Salt Life” regalia.

Having successfully fought the urge to hit snooze a seventh time, I rose from bed by 8:20, pressed the handle on the cold-pressed coffee and cruised into the public parking lot at 9 a.m., easily scoring a choice spot and setting up my gear far enough from the maddening crowd to safely pull out my Pulp Friction and enjoy a cold brew—its pinkish can can easily mistaken for flavored water or a sports drink. For five glorious hours, I enjoyed one of the only fair-weathered, rain-free beach days this summer. 

By noon, however, the crowds had swelled and the beer was being imbibed more liberally and openly, despite the signs warning of illegality and threats of steep fines. It was already a menacingly-hot 94 degrees, topped with staggering humidity. Beach-goers had long since ran out of bottled water and were drinking their hooch more for the sake of hydration than to chill out—never a good recipe at this devil latitude of just 27 degrees north of the equator.

It's hard to properly describe such a day to anyone who's never been a problem drinker and/or lived in a sub-tropical environment. The heat here in July and August is nothing short of evil, a relentless blanket of bad vibes that fouls the air with the scents of dying musk and vegetative detritus. Most of us have no choice but to drink cold and stubbornly alcoholic beverages that, while refreshing, have the effect of pulverizing good sense and obliterating sound judgment. For those in this region who begin their cool, air conditioned, non-alcoholic mornings with much less common sense and sound judgment than the average high-school dropout—and by this I mean the ignorant, under-educated, possibly-inbred, red-necked hillbillies of which Florida has plenty—the results range from disappointing to disastrous.

By 2 p.m., the scene had turned ugly. A few feet from my chaise lounge, a pot-bellied man who one could only guess sustained himself with a bullshit disability claim had begun yelling at a fat lady in a confederate flag bikini whose daughter insisted on feeding grapes to the sea gulls.

“They're gonna bite her fucking finger off!” he screamed. “Whatcha gonna do then, you dumb broad? DCF will take her ass off you for sure.”

“I told her not to do it,” the woman slurred back. “What the fuck do you want from me? She don't listen! If I beat her, they'll take her from me just the same. I suppose you think she'd be better off in foster care? I fuckin' hate you!”

It took a couple of moments for me to put enough of the conversation together to surmise that they were a couple, and though they had recovered enough of their anger to be kissing sloppily by the time I had finished packing up my gear, it still seemed like bad foreshadowing of things to come.

As I crossed the parking lot at 2:15, cars were now hovering for open spots like vultures looking to descend on festering carcasses. An available space had apparently emerged, and two rednecks with aggressive trucks began fighting over their entitlement to it from their respective cabs, each revving their engine and inching toward the other's flat-black bumper.

The one whose bumper stickers ran the gamut from INFORWARS.COM to #Vaginatarian and Your Girlfriend On Board seemed to be winning the pissing match thus far, but the beefy-armed sport with the Louder Than Your Girlfriend Was Last Night sticker over his suspiciously-large exhaust pipe seemed to be making inroads, nonetheless. I waved my hand and told them that I'd be pulling out of my spot in the next row, and that they could refrain from scratching the paint on their pretty trucks, but they looked only half-happy to receive such news, since it meant the redneck mating ritual would come to an end without bloodshed or gunplay.

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

While driving home, I wrote a haiku as I waited out a painfully-long drawbridge opening, while wishing that I'd sprung for a Freon charge for the air conditioning unit of my car. After getting back onto the mainland, I spun by Walmart and shopped for a new deodorant that could stand up to this year's particularly brutal summer heat while the crew put the “performance” discount tires on my ride (because the Fiero is nothing if not a high-performance vehicle), while the skies finally opened and the rains fell. Yes, I screamed to no one in particular, celebrating the fact that a downpour might tame, or at least mildly dampen that evening's explosives. Again, no such luck.

The skies cleared by early evening, and the mood for the night was set around dusk when a large woman with red and blue curlers in her hair and too much of herself spilling from a tank top emerged from a neighbor's (above ground) pool party with the kind of rubbery-legged sway that suggested shitfacededness of the highest order.

“Fuck you and the horse you rode in on,” she screamed at the much skinnier man that was giving chase. Her words came through the sort of slur that is generally only facilitated by a full day of drinking hard liquor in the Florida sun; that or a liberal dose of prescription opioids. Faaaaawwwwk youuuuuuu, she said again to punctuate her statement, using a slurred out oral elongation that would have made Michael Buffer proud.

Another girl emerged to successfully cajole her back into the party, which by 9 p.m. had become a full on cacophony of high-powered munitions that left my neighborhood sounding like the war-torn streets of Aleppo, crossed with Beirut in the '80s. Rufus began pissing on the floor before I got through half an episode of Silicon Valley and, after cleaning it up, I realized I was out of beer. I am not ashamed to admit that I cried … a lot. By 10 p.m. the dog had muddied the floor, and I'd had about all I could take of this absurd carousel of hillbilly horrors. 

Fit to be tied, I stormed over to their bungalow and fought my way through the overgrowth of landscaping to the back patio where a decades old four-foot (above ground) pool with a tiny cylindrical filter that could not have possibly been managing all of the dirty urine these exceptions to Darwinism were spilling into the chlorinated (I hoped) water—at least judging by the pile of semi-crushed Natural Ice cans littering the landscape.

“Excuse me, my friends,” I said in the voice of an angry pacifist. “Might we have adequately awoken the dead?”

“What,” said a tall, thin peckerwood with tattooed arms, one of which held a beer, the other an e-cig. I recognized him as the man who was chasing the woman with the curlers down the street earlier.

“The fireworks,” I explained. “What say we be done now?”

“It's 4th of July,” he answered, looking at me as though I were wearing two more heads on top of my own.

“This is true,” I conceded, “but while I can't be entirely certain, I'd be willing to bet that we've met whatever quota on explosives might be required to prove that we're good, patriotic Americans.”

“You don't look American,” said a red-headed gent with freckles and bottomless eyes who was standing in the (above ground) pool while lighting firecrackers.

“Well, I have some Pakistani on my mother's side, and my dad's British, but I was born here,” I explained. “So were they, in fact.”

“So you're an immigrant?” asked the first one, suspiciously.

“And a Muslim?” asked/said the other.

“No, actually, when you're born here, you're American, particularly when you're born here to other people who were born here, I mean not more so, but it should be more clear, I would think. My citizenship is not in question. I am, as they say, a native, and a second generation one at that.”

They looked at me like I was speaking French.

“So you pray to Allah?” asked the ginger.

“No, I'm an atheist, though I did consider praying to Buddha, L. Ron Hubbard and Jesus Fucking Christ Almighty that the explosions would cease, but thought that instead I might come over here as a good and decent human being, appeal to your humanity and ask you to cool it on the fireworks so that my dog—Rufus, well, he's my roommate's new girlfriend's dog—will stop pissing on the hardwood floors.”

“What do you want us to do, light fuckin' sparklers like a bunch of fuckin' pansies?” the first one asked. “Maybe throw some snaps and light them little snake things, while we're at it?” he laughed. “That shit's for kids!”

“Look, Ace, I hate to point this out, but it's all for kids, and I feel that it's worth mentioning that I don't see any of them around (thank God), just a bunch of grown men getting their jollies on loud explosions. I'm not sure what that's all about, but I know Freud had some interesting theories.”

“You sayin' we're queers?” asked the red head, who had clearly not worn sunscreen for the afternoon leg of the party.

“No, and neither was Freud,” I answered. “He was suggesting impotence, or at least fears of inadequacy in terms of, shall we say, boudoir skills.”

They both turned their heads sideways and looked at me as though they knew they should be offended but couldn't say why.

“He's sayin' your dicks don't work, you fuckin' retards!” shouted the large woman who'd given the suggestion about leaving town on a horse earlier in the day. “And I know he's right in at least one of y’all's cases (apparently there is a such thing as softwood, and this house had some).”

Utter silence. 

“Look, buddy,” said the tall fellow. “I didn't serve in the Marines for 10 years to come home and be told that—as a veteran no less—I don't have the right to celebrate our country's birthday.”

Finally, some commonality.

“Look, I served too—Coast Guard—but I ...”

“Fuckin' Coast Guard?” he managed to say through his hysterical laughter. “Are you shittin' me? What the fuck kind of pussy are you?”

At this, they all had a good laugh.

“Look, pal,” said Red. “You can call the cops, or you can come over here and try to stop us from settin' off these here fireworks, or you can go fuck yourself, for all I care. But that's about the long and short of it. So why don't you just take your pansy, Coast Guard ass home and clean up the dog piss.”

Being a devout pacifist, I put my palms in the air and walked off, shaking my head at yet a bit more lost faith in humanity.

“Yeah, go on now,” shouted the large woman who'd understood the Freudian reference. “And one more thing, FAWK you AND the horse you rode in on, AND your damned dog Rufus!” she cackled as the three of them broke out into more side-splitting laughter. 

"It's my roommate's girlfriend’s dog," I muttered in dejection.

Defeated, I headed back to the house, cleaned up the newest puddle of piss and decided to make the best of a bad situation. I pulled out the last of the edibles my sister had sent me from Colorado from a shoe box under the bed and ate them greedily, though not before tossing Rufus one of the sweet gummies to help with his anxiety. Then I put in my Redux edition DVD of Apocalypse Now with the extended footage.

Somewhere around the time Captain Willard and the boys had made it halfway up the river toward the camp of Col. Kurtz, the THC began to take hold. By the USO scene, the collective fireworks were blending into sync with Coppola's masterpiece and soon I couldn't tell the firecrackers in the street from the bombs on the TV. Rufus had managed to settle into chillax mode, as well. Somewhere around the time Robert Duval was giving his famous, “Charlie don't surf!” line, I dozed off into a peaceful sleep where I remained until half a dozen dogs began the morning chorus that calls me to wake each day in this godforsaken hell hole of a neighborhood.

When I left for my morning walk with the dog—because I'm that kind of guy, the assholes in my neighborhood notwithstanding—the smell of dynamite from the quarter sticks and M-80's was still lingering in the already thick and humid air. And for once, that's all there was … that chalky, smoked out dynamite smell. It smelled like … victory.