#i had actually zero chill about these books back in high school AND I STILL DON’T

[midshipmank]

I KNOW I SHOULD KEEP MY HOPES LOW, BUT THEY ARE ALREADY THROUGH THE ROOF

[nanabanonana]

op i hope you don't mind me hijacking your post. not so much a headcanon as something silly i just wanted to write v quickly before doing responsibilities

The paper was due today. Sokka was about to riot. He had been so sure it was due in two more days. He had even written it down! Aggravated and stressed, he rubbed his hands over his face and made his way to the edges of campus by the burnt out dorm that went down in flames a month ago. One of the students (some guy Sokka had never met before but was shown a picture of by Suki and thought looked remarkably familiar) snuck in a hot plate and tried to make noodles with no water.

Why the FUCK, that guy had thought that would end well was beyond Sokka.

But whatever. His rich father donated a new building, hired out a motel to house the homeless students, and even repaid academic losses. Money talked and all that. Fuck that guy, honestly. But great for the students who wouldn't have to spend all that money to buy books again.

Construction would begin right after the building was bulldozed over winter vacation. But for now, it served as a good place to smoke or just gather yourself prior to an imminent mental breakdown.

Only, when Sokka turned the corner into the area meant for breakdowns, he came face to face with that fucking guy.

And because Sokka was already having a bad time, he said, “Nothing left here to burn. You should try the labs. They're due for better equipment anyway. It's not like your dad can't afford it.”

That fucking guy, actual name pending, looked up, frozen, and Sokka immediately felt really shitty. This guy looked like he was about to have a nervous breakdown himself. Sokka had never looked at him up close before. He had always assumed he was a rich kid with nice clothes and zero personality that he overcompensated for by acting like a complete asshole.

But what stood before him was a student with a deep eye bag on his visible eye and sallow skin with a very recent burn over his left eye and ear that was mostly, and poorly, bandaged. It was like he had done it himself with shaky hands and zero know-how.

Damn.

Now Sokka felt GUILTY. Fuck this guy, for real. And what was that, muscle? Fuck this guy double. He was incredibly fit, even with the obvious signs of unwellness. He was not allowed to be both an arsonist AND hot. ESPECIALLY not hot WHILE unwell.

“Hey,” said the guy, his voice a deep rasp like he had inhaled too much smoke. And in his hand, he held an unlit blunt. He held it awkwardly in a bandaged hand, his other holding a lighter.

And because Sokka still kind of hated this guy, he gestured at the lighter and said, “Is that really a good idea with your track record?” And should he have even been at school yet with his injuries?

The guy gave him a flat look.

“What more can this do to me that my own stupidity hasn't already cost me?” he deadpanned like a nihilist convert. Then he held out the blunt and said, “Want some?”

Sokka was still having a bad day. That paper had cost him fifteen percent of his overall grade. His fucking financial aid was going to be impacted. His father was going to give him the Disappointment Face and Sokka HATED the Disappointment Face. Especially without his mother's Everything Is Going To Be Okay face to back him up.

Damn, he thought, Katara was going to lord this over him for the rest of his life. Sokka was known as the scarily competent one in his family. Katara was as well, but she was much more chill about it. Sokka was decidedly not. In fact, he was very high strung and yeah, fuck it.

“Gim'me,” Sokka said, and he took both lighter and blunt from the guy before setting his book bag on the floor against the scorched wall. It still smelled heavily of smoke. Sokka did not mind it. He lit up, took a hit, and passed it over. Then he sat heavily and sighed. The guy tentatively sat beside him, knees up and lazily spread, elbows on his knees.

“Sokka, right?” said the guy as he passed the blunt back.

“Yeah…” Sokka said, frowning a little. “How'd you know that?”

“You're kidding, right?” said the guy, glancing at him. “You're consistently top of the class. Every class. In every subject. You're the name my dad brings up every time I come home. How could I not know your name?”

Oh. That was … huh. Well, that explained the stress lines on his face. Sokka had thought he was in pain because of his still-healing wounds.

“Well,” Sokka said, “don't worry, I won't be top of the class for much longer.”

The guy hummed and then seemed to hear him as he turned abruptly.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, brow furrowed.

“A paper I thought was due in two days was actually due today. Mine's all notes. I was going to write it up later today and edit it over the next two days.”

“Golob, right?” said the guy. “That IS due in two days.”

“How do you know what class it is?” Sokka asked, befuddled. And he shook his head. “Uh, no, dude, it's due today.”

“No, two days,” the guy repeated stubbornly. “I wrote it down. Three times. I asked. It's even in the syllabus!”

“It's in the syllabus?” Sokka breathed, and then he passed over the blunt as he grabbed his phone from his pocket. The screen was pristine, though the case around it was dinged to hell. He quickly went to search for the syllabus, downloaded it to view. And yeah, this guy was right. It said it right there. Due in two days.

Sokka said, “Dude, do you mind if I kiss you? You just saved my fucking ass. He swore up and down it was due today!”

“Uh, yeah, okay,” said the guy, and Sokka's head shot up. He turned, surprised, only to find the guy looked extremely discomposed, but hopeful.

Sokka was silent for a moment, thinking.

He said, “Are you even IN Golob's class?”

The guy looked away for a moment, and then back. He said, “Auditing.”

He looked nervous. There was sweat on the visible part of his brow, and the temperature outside was too cool for it.

“You're auditing a bioengineering course?” Sokka said dubiously. “What are you majoring in?”

“Law,” the guy mumbled.

Sokka pursed his lips and tilted his head.

“Got a little crush on someone in class, do you?” he teased, and the guy looked awkwardly away.

And much to Sokka's surprise, he replied.

“My father says success depends on recognizing and taking opportunities. I'm in law with a business minor. How else was I supposed to meet you?”

Sokka struggled to compute that for a moment. Then he screeched, “Wait, it's ME?”

“You're surprised?” said the guy, frowning. “You're so smart, how are you surprised?”

“I'm smart, but I'm not omniscient!” Sokka yelled. Then he composed himself and looked away. He could feel his cheeks heating. He would be lying if he said he had zero interest. But Sokka did not date. Not until his studies were done. He had sworn it. He even had a date with his friend Suki schedule for right after graduation.

Clearing his throat, Sokka said, “Well, sorry to break it to you, but I don't date arsonists.” He paused. He said that wrong. He meant to say he did not date, period!

“In my defense,” the guy said, “I was at sixty-eight hours with no sleep and on six different kinds of caffeinated drinks on top of all the coffee I'd been drinking.”

"Why?” Sokka asked, baffled and intrigued despite himself.

“Oh, my roommate said I couldn't go five days without sleep. We're still arguing whether it counts if I was sedated for emergency surgery. Jet says it doesn't count. I told him he could go fuck himself.”

What the fuck. The pot must have been good to have agreed to such a bet.

“And what did the winner get?”

“Bragging rights.”

He was a moron!

So why was Sokka oddly charmed by him?

“You still burned down a building,” Sokka pointed out.

“No casualties,” the guy rebutted. “Few cases of smoke inhalation, and I'm the only injury.”

Sokka squinted at him and said, “Are you debating me for a date?”

“Absolutely,” the guy said, and he held out the blunt.

Sokka took it, trying not to smile, and said, “One date, then.” He promptly asked himself what the fuck he was thinking. But whatever was currently jaeger'ing his brain was not listening. “What's your name anyway?”

“Zuko,” he replied. “So … do I get that kiss?” He sounded so hopeful. Sokka bit his bottom lip, but he was definitely fighting a losing battle against the Kaiju that was his smile.

Sokka hid his smile as took another hit. He waited for a long few seconds before he said, “Only if it works out with Golob.”

Clearly, Sokka's brain had turned the reins over to his dick.

“Done deal then,” Zuko said, and Sokka's heart fluttered.

“Why law?” he asked, trying to find a safe topic.

“Dad wants me to join his practice,” Zuko said.

“And what do you actually want to do?” Sokka asked.

“Extreme sports,” Zuko answered immediately, and Sokka would deny to hell and back that he fell a little in love.

Can someone, anyone, send me some Zukka College AU headcanons? I’m in desperate need after the finals I had to take 😮‍💨

[jq37]

The Report Card – Fantasy High: The Seven Ep 3

Let’s Split Up and Look for Clues! 

Welcome back to the Seven and the Museum of Adventuring. My previous pronouncement of combat was a little premature but hold tight, we’ll get there. For now, we’re back with Antiope who just saw a glimpse of the Ending of Things (aka, Ending) and is freaking out a bit. She tells the others and they all do various checks to see what they can find out.

Ostentatia casts Commune With City and clocks that there is some kind of abjuration shield magic on the government buildings in town, stopping them from being spied on. She also clocks some lingering undead-ish magic and a weird divination effect on Antiope, specifically on the Aguefort logo of her jacket, like someone scryed on her and just got that she had something to do with Aguefort. At this, Penny reminds her that the only true piece of info they gave Ending when they broke her out is that they were from Aguefort.

Sam with a 19 Insight still feels the connection she and Ant have with Ending because of their spells turned against them in the initial encounter. Yelle does a Perception check (27) and once again doesn’t really get bad, dreadful, menacing vibes. But also, she recognizes that she’s chill with a lot of things most people don’t love. 

Antiope reiterates that she texted Charity that she’s interested in the internship so she can learn more info--even better now that they know the buildings are safe from scrying. Yelle remembers Aguefort’s warning about people watching them and Sam asks Zelda if her “weird boyfriend” (“he’s actually really cool”) is friends with the elven oracle. Zelda says yeah, they’re both friends with Adaine, she can ask about any weird divination stuff. Sam makes sure to specify she should look into TK but NOT Ending, no doubt remembering what happened when she tried to do a spell on her. 

It’s been a big day as Zelda says so they all go to the TGIF-esque Slappy McFinnigans to celebrate (which Sam has problems with--the fact that they’re celebrating I mean, but she’s mainly ignored). They’re quickly kicked out because Katja can’t help herself from trying to brush the mane of their centaur server and they reconvene at the more their speed SlamBurger, where a horse can fully destroy a soda machine to absolutely zero reaction.  Zelda says that Ostentatia was right in that they should all do the quest because it doesn’t close any doors and they have the 2 weeks to figure things out. They all seem a bit more on the same page (though Sam is still pretty frosty towards Ant) and start making plans.

Before they leave, Yelle pulls aside Ant and Sam and says hey, first of all, you two are still linked to Ending from before. Second of all, I know y’all are Going Through It right now and you don’t have to talk about it or make up right away but you need to get your heads in the game and you need to know that you’re both loved and still family. 

Penny, Zelda, Katja, and Ostentatia go back to the museum to try and get more information for their quest. Katja goes to the information desk (horse in tow, of course) and just starts asking information about TK. She’s told that she’s one of the museum’s benefactors and has been missing for years, and hey, do you understand that a museum’s info desk is about where the water fountains and exhibits are, not just random information about the world?

Ostentatia bails her out by calling her over so she can do her plan which is just to walk into the back area like she owns the place. Now, Aguefort students do have a certain level of clearance to be back there and she does have her school ID. But instead of explaining that, she tried to use her Earrings of Diamond Charm to charm the employee she runs into which fails. And then she does a pretty good tag-team lie with Katja about how they NEED to pass a class but that doesn’t fly. Then Ostentatia tries flirting which ALSO doesn’t work. Zelda at this point steps in and just headbuts the dude so they can book it away. I personally would have gone with, “Do you know who we are? We killed the dragon that’s your current main exhibit,” but you know. No backseat adventuring. 

While this is happening, Penny is stealthing like a pro, looking for anything Arcana related. Ostentatia and Katja also did checks (O getting a nat 20) and we’ll go through all their info gathered now. 

Katja basically gets info on TK we kind of already knew. She was a benefactor of the museum. She’s centuries old like Aguefort. She was concerned with consciousness and divinity and specifically how will and divine will manifested, as well as elemental magic.  

Ostentatia gets a lot of info with her Nat 20. She gets a full map to the temple where TK went which is called the Temple of Earth Defiant. The point of the temple is that it’s up in the open air and harsh winds--wind being a symbol of chaos and unpredictability to dwarves--but they still use it as a place to honor their heroes and they rebuild and upkeep it despite the erosion and how hard it is to get there. It’s hallowed from evil and lots of stories about it involve heroes racing there for sanctuary. It was made by dwarves but it’s a pilgrimage site for other primordial beings like goliaths and earth genasi (which is what TK is). There are 3 heroes who have big statues here: Asha Hammerheart (a SUPER dope name I must say), Yvonna of the Sundering Hills , and Kora Ironbrow.

Penny finds that, amongst Kalvaxus’s hoard there were 7 unrecovered artifacts--the Mirrors of the Eidolons (which are the smashed mirrors they found it seems). Eidelons are kind of like the elemental plane version of angels/celestials. They’re primordial (remember Katja saw primordial language on the wall of the dragon cave) and kind of aligned with things like titans and genies. Raw element with no agenda (unlike celestials and demons and such which have a clear alignment which makes up the D&D religious system). It is said by wizards--who look at these things in more of a nuts and bolts way than say clerics who take the fuzzier religions view--that Eidolons are the hands of the gods because gods are beings of spirit--how could they form the physical world. Will of the divine manifested by elemental beings? Sounds right up TK’s alley.

Sam decides she’s desperate enough for information that she calls her mom who she is understandably snippy with. Her mom gives her a contact to talk to when she asks about TK but Sam stonewalls her on show business talk. She tries to play the “mother knows best, you’ll thank me later,” in a kind of Gothel-y way while acting like anything in the past never happened and says Sam is attacking her but when Sam accuses her of neglect, she proves her right by hanging up the phone.

Sam then calls the number and it turns out to be Lola Embers (Fig’s agent) who has been waiting for Sam’s call for ages and wants to talk to her, even though she’s currently chasing her dog across the park. She says she met TK once at a genasi woman networking thing and also says she once saw Charity get into an argument with TK over government funding or not getting a grant or something similar. She then says she’s in a lake trying to get her dog and Sam, being a water genasi who can breathe underwater and also a fundamentally good person even though she’s currently being aggro as hell, goes to the park to help her. Lola assures her that if she’s ready, she’ll help her get new acting gigs and that the world is ready for the new her. 

Yelle meanwhile casts Speak With Plants on some trees near TK’s office and, after a super stoner to stoner conversation, gets a magical footprint trail of where she ran off to when she absconded 12 years ago. 

Antiope (who is in a sports bra because she destroyed her top with the Aguefort logo since that’s what was pinged, revealing in a wild, nat-1 fueled retcon that she got a tramp stamp reading “Leader” in the Red Waste) goes to see Charity to fill out some paperwork, ingratiate herself, and perhaps get some info. Charity has her hot, young, assistant (who Antiope is instantly crushing on) give Ant his shirt (and Charity’s lack of surprise at seeing his 4 horses pulling a chariot tattoo makes the group think they’re def banging). She kind of explains what the Ministry does and Antiope boils it down a bit to snitching on other adventurers. Charity says it’s more of a who watches the watchmen situation and visibly twitches when she has to say the word “snitch”. 

When she takes a second to call Antiope’s dad, she accidentally leaves a tab open on her computer which has TK’s file open (probably up from when the Maidens asked about her earlier). Antiope sneaks a peek and learns that the artifact that TK stole is called the Legendarium Extrodia and it tracks quests. It seems that at some point TK must have had top level access to get her hands on it. It also shows that TK was marked for assassination (which seems like a pretty good reason to get the heck out of dodge). Brennan also says she’s learned enough that she can use the L.E. if she finds it. 

At this point, Yelle tells everyone to come back ASAP so they can follow the magic footsteps. Antiope wants to come but doesn’t want to burn bridges with Charity (or chances with Preston--equally important) so she, at Katja’s suggestion--pretends to have diarrhea and is Nat 20 convincing. Interesting choice for the end of the first meeting with a person you’re crushing on. But Preston is actually pretty supportive as she races out the door as fast as possible.

The Seven follow the footsteps out of Solace and it becomes clear that TK was headed to the dwarven temple Ostentatia learned about. This is a multi-day journey so Cinnamon sings a glorious, magical, horse song and summons mounts for everyone which I will now name because this is obviously the most important part of the episode:

Snowfire - Danielle

Taffodill - Sam

Alagonia - Antiope

Candyheart - Penny

Starforge - Ostentatia 

Strawberry Dancer - Zelda 

Crucial info. 

As they travel, Antiope casts Primeval Awareness and gets that there is something ancient in the mountain. They travel through Pilgrim’s Pass (a village area most travelers to the temple pass through) but find it completely razed to the ground. They investigate. 

With an 18 Survival check, Antiope finds tracks that seem halfway between dog and cat. There are more than 4 legs and it’s hard to tell how old they are because there’s not a lot of rain in the area. They could have been left long ago and been undisturbed. Regardless, these are clearly from monstrosities. On a 26 History Check, Katja knows that this area used to be protected by Blink Dogs (teleporting dogs) but they seem to be all gone now. On a 22 Nature check, Yelle sees a weird feather made out of plant material. It seems like fae stuff but bad vibes. On an 18 Insight check, Sam knows this was a purposeful slaughter.

And on Penny’s 30 Arcana check, oh boy. Penny finds broken common scrawled on the wall in human blood talking about a queen of the mountain who rules the skies. That only the queen may see and none may see themselves. And that the people were told to destroy the seeing glass and did not obey. In from of that message is a bear hide covering something magic. Penny lifts it with reckless abandon and sees tons of mirror shards.

Friendship bracelets! She thinks.

Gotcha bitch, the thing in the mirror says.

Uh-oh.   

Penny calls over her friends to let them knows she may have made a tiny mistake. The group is pretty split between, “Understandable,” and “Girl, WHAT?” In her defense, she did try to cast Friends on the person on the other side of the mirror shards but that’s not enough to stop an entire pack of 50-60 Displacer Beast (magic tentacle cats)/Blink Dog hybrid monstrosities along with the Harpy Queen (voice from the mirror) and her plant feathered harpy minions to start rapidly making their way to their location. 

It is at this point that Ostentatia remembers that abominations and monstrosities cannot step into the temple which means it’s time to RUN. 

And NOW it’s combat time. 

The premise of this fight is that the girls are on their horses, moving towards the center of the temple as fast as they can while fending off the closest enemies. I won’t give an exact play by play but the two highlights are as follows:

Yelle conjures up a bunch of geese with raptor stats (...so normal geese) to swarm the head cat/dog abomination and has to do a truly stunning amount of math for which she is rewarded with SEVENTY POINTS OF DAMAGE. 

Antiope does some insane arrow trickery and gets the Queen Harpy in the wing (which Ostentatia helpfully gets on video so she can show Preston later) and then forces her to take damage as she falls. If not for an extremely lucky Box of Doom nat 20, she may have been down for the count. Antiope still comes away with more than FIFTY points of damage on her though. 

And we end the episode mid-combat! We will catch up on our girls next time!

Superlatives 

Penny: Most Likely to Make Friends During a Hostage Situation 

As a companion to Danielle’s superlative last episode, Penny gets this award for reading or misreading every situation as an opportunity to make friends or make friendship bracelets for the ones she already has. 

Random Thoughts

Did you guys notice that with Katja having Cinnamon and Charity’s assistant being Preston, that’s two of the main pet NPCs from A Crown of Candy?

Antiope’s Reaction to Yelle Saying That Maybe Things Ending Isn’t So Bad: Rail against the dying of the light! Why are you OK with this?

Penny’s Reaction to Yelle Saying That Maybe Things Ending Isn’t So Bad: Entropy is TERRIBLE! Everything needs order!

The greasy cashier’s response to Ostentatia’s flirty, “Come here often?” is “To my job? Honestly no.” Brennan? Chef’s kiss. 

My other fave line this episode is from Sam. “I believe Cinnamon fucks.”

It’s very cute that Penny is like, “I gotta text Riz about this Eidelon stuff!” Not because she wants help. Just so they can geek out together. 

The joke that Brennan didn’t think about the birds is so funny considering all the bird facts in Misfits.

Also re Birds attacking: “They made a movie about this Brennan!” 

Good on Ant for refusing an Aguefort sweatshirt from Charity when offered after the little scrying incident before. Remembering things like this saves lives. 

It has been brought up several times that Ending isn’t necessarily Bad just Ancient and Powerful and I trust Yelle’s vibe check but also, like, a forest fire doesn’t have malice behind it but it can still devastate a city while it clears out dead trees that need to be cleared, you know? Not ready to start wild speculation yet but I am curious. And am similarly curious about the sisters Ending has mentioned. Oh and the parallels of 7 Maidens, 7 mirrors. It’s all there, we just need a little more info. 

Honestly, get you a man who will see you rushing out of a building, loudly claiming to have diarrhea, and instead of being grosses out will just supportively confess his own stomach issues. I wish he was just a little younger cause I want that for Ant. 

I do like that D20 has been playing a little more fast and loose with the RP ep/combat ep format. I think it really helps with story flow. 

In this episode Antiope and Brennan as various non-Zelda NPCs rolled 2 Nat 20s. O rolled one. Ant rolled 1 Nat 1--which was on a self imposed roll to see how she responded to Sephie’s tramp stamp improv. And O may have rolled one for initiative also but I wasn’t sure. 

[zed-the-buggy]

oh hey would you look at that *sweating profusely* 

A New Foe Has Appeared ! @dantelionwishes​

I'd been waffling over joining because like, I've never really watched much or been in the fandom by sheer lack of dedication to Watching Things and the actual characters didn’t really hook me, but at least 3/4 of my friends are and BOY GOLLY do I love the concept of magic teenagers with funky powers in a super cool magic high school doing superhero things. 

Hoshizawa is kind-of a hodgepodge of my first magic human oc with as many little references to things I've liked in that ye ol' era of 2016-17 or something. 

About this gay (personality shits, quirk, past?👀) below ↓↓

also quick warning, just due to the amount of hopping around my brain do, expect at least some cut off or weird sentences just because I forgot where I was and went somewhere else. Basically elaborating on the descriptions above though. Except dragons bit. No-one expects the (Spanish Inquisition) dragons.

Pearsonality (yummy, pears!)

Personality wise, he’s Very easy going. He’ll voice a complaint if he has one, but never with any malice or aggression. He’s very chill, pretty much. Rarely gets heated, and I sound like I’m describing, like, a dog, or a dog breed-

he can be quite forgetful, even just after a few seconds. Like me as I write this because I was going somewhere with it and Instantly Forgot. Even significant details about people he’s like “oh yeah I guess you do have red hair, I always thought it was black...” 

Hoshizawa can grasp school concepts very easily, and while he’s not a nerd in terms of studies, he tries his best and does very well. However, his proficiencies in math and science don’t extend as far to his social-emotional intelligence, and can come off quite blunt or dense in many social situations. Especially in explaining things, he speaks in confusing terms that probably only make sense to him, or others in his exact wavelength. Because of this, it’s not unusual for others to believe he’s just dumb, and especially to get graded down on “show your work” type questions. When it comes to blows however, Hoshizawa can be a surprise. Because while he’s god-awful at explaining things, he still very much knows what he’s trying to talk about.

His favorite thing of all though are dragons. He found those Dragonology books in the back shelf of the library and never put them down. He’s even created his own pantheon of dragons and a world to go with, which he often references to others unknowing and unsuspecting. 

He’s quite creative, but despite drawing dragons and creating a world or whatever, he is greatest with making music, specifically producing music on the computer, whatever that’s called (he knows how to make music I don’t.)

He lives in his head, and often ignores others by mistake by virtue of paying zero attention to the world, including in the middle of interactions. He spaces out ALL the time though. If he ever “falls asleep” in class, more than likely he’s actually just 100% spaced out.

Hoshizawa doesn’t care much for silly old gender roles (why gender when you can have dragons?????) and, while he uses he/him just because that’s what everyone else refers to him as, he won’t correct you either (leading to moments like - “wait you’re a GUY?!?!” - “ya” - “I’VE KNOWN YOU 6 MONTHS AS SHE/HER THOUGH???” - “...ya”) (one of many moments from my irl dramatized for comedic effect) 

He likes physical contact, and likes to give others hugs to show affection (if they’re ok w it) hence I knight him the nickname of squishizawa, which I may or may not be adding this because I really like the nickname squishizawa.

Quirk time woot

Hoshizawa’s quirk is pretty basic, at least compared to the ideas I had, but the one I picked both fit for referencing my old oc he’s based on, and just for Hoshizawa alone.

He can create a cloud of sparks, which I don’t think look like how they do in the image but I’m not sure what they do look like either. He can create them either from his hands (which he can “throw” out) or around himself. The sparks will float in the air, and remain there either until either they eventually dissipate after a few minutes, or he collapses them into a supernova-like flash of light and noise. The volume of this flash can vary based on how much stardust was absorbed into the explosion. While he cannot actually physically touch or hurt others with this, a collection of stardust can be dizzying or disorienting, as well as blinding. More like a status effect in Pokemon to put it how my brain is (specifically like an accuracy-lowering Confusion)

However, using his quirk doesn’t come without charge. Using it can cause himself to experience the same effects, and when used too much at one time, he can be temporarily blinded, or a complete stumbling, disoriented mess, and past that even worse.

His (super suit) hero costume includes a variety of aspects to safeguard from these side effects, but in the end they only sort of prolong the inevitable.

Visor - The visor is tinted a dark color, as due to the blindness being caused by light (and because game) he will be able to see better a little bit longer.

Gloves - I hate my design on them rn, but they provide a level of ease to being able to cast the sparkles. They are solar powered :)

He has his hair up so that he can see. that’s kindof just a thing. Ponytail or bun, either works, I went bun because I thought it would look cool and I was wrong.

Past?!?!!?!1? what’sis e THIS?????

I’m keeping it vague because (I don’t know his whole BaCkStOrY yet) it’s a secrett BUT it is something he rarely talks about. He doesn’t seem to avoid it much, but he won’t talk on it without being Specifically Prompted. Which in the end, nobody goes to the shady looking guy in the tavern to inquire his backstory without knowing there’s a quest behind it, so it’s not something terribly inquired on. However, when he does talk on his childhood, it usually doesn’t take a lot of cross examination to find something that doesn’t totally add up. 

Last Note (消えた後の蝋燭の香り)

woohoo - anygays possibly subject to change (i’ll try not to for sake of Braincells) because I’m an indecisive losser, and this took way too long and I think I fell asleep halfway through idk can someone check the tapes-

also no VA because I...i..do not- i do not know........ I imagine his voice being deeper, and while he speaks with a lot of pauses, he actually talks fairly quickly, because alike my wifi connection, his thoughts come in 10 second bursts, and also like my wifi connection, can be dumb and stupid. 

so no-one can beat me to it, ahem himbo vibes ahem

also if you’re a certain specific someone who’s a cute that is seeing this because I sent it to you have fun simping uwu

[hutchhitched]

Walk Back

Written by: @hutchhitched​

Prompt 143: The girl of my dreams asked me if I needed a ride home from campus so I obviously let her drive me home then walked back to campus a couple of hours later to get my car. [submitted by anonymous]

Ratings/Warnings: G

A/N: I’m continuing to post the nine @everlarkficexchange prompts I took and then sat on throughout the early months of the pandemic. This is the sixth of the nine. Thanks for your patience, and I hope you enjoy. Huge thanks to @javistg for understanding the delays. Only three more to go!

 Peeta Mellark knows he’s got it good compared to a lot of people. He really does, but that doesn’t stop him from wallowing in pity every once in a while. He’s in college, the first in his family, on a hefty scholarship; his grades are good; he has a lot of friends and a good work study job that actually does give him some time to study. Those are all good things. They really are, and he doesn’t dispute it, but…

 He’s also had a rough home life with a mom who’s never satisfied with anything he does and a father who loves him but can’t stand up to his wife long enough to protect his three sons from her emotional abuse. He’s a first-generation college student who’s excelling in courses for his major but isn’t doing so great in all his other general education courses. He has to work a lot more than he should for someone with his course load. Worst of all, though, he’s madly in love with a woman who likely doesn’t know his name. Well, that’s probably not true, but still. She’s certainly not crazy about him the way he is mad for her.

 There’s just no way Katniss Everdeen, fellow Panem University student and the smartest girl in his biology lab, would ever give him the time of day. Not when she already has a boyfriend, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Rugged, who’s about to graduate with a promising career. That’s unlike Peeta, an art major. He’ll never amount to anything, or so his mother likes to remind him every time he’s stupid enough to visit his family.

 Besides, Katniss is beautiful and sassy and shy and so many other wonderful things. She has no idea the effect she has on him or any other male within a mile radius, including their biology professor who’s proclaimed her the most brilliant student he’s had in his twenty-two years of teaching. Peeta spends the better part of their class together watching her from across the room, which is probably why his lab partner hates him and his grade in that class absolutely sucks.

 So, while Peeta knows he’s got some things going for him, it’s not surprising that he finds himself a little down in the dumps occasionally—especially on days when his crush shows up at his workplace. It’s even worse when his co-worker knows about his hopeless infatuation and has no shame. Johanna Mason may be his least favorite person on days like that. Today happens to be one of those days. He’s cursing his life when Jo comes up behind him and leans down to whisper in his ear.

 “Oooooooooh ooooooh. Katniss is pretty, isn’t she? Look at her over there. So serious. What do you think she’s getting ready to check out, and is there any way to make it sexual when gets over here?”

 “Shut up, Jo,” Peeta hisses as his cheeks flush, and he curls into himself, trying to hide behind the circulation desk so Katniss won’t see him.

 The last thing he wants is for the girl he’s been crushing on for months to hear his co-worker tease him about his hopeless attraction. The problem is that he told Johanna in a fit of self-loathing, and she coached him through it, built him up so his ego was a little higher than the floor and prepared him some for what to say to a girl when he likes her. While it was very kind of Jo to offer, Peeta isn’t that hopeless. He’d had a number of girlfriends in high school, but none of them compare to Katniss Everdeen. She is a goddess.

“What time’s your shift done today, hot buns?”

 “Don’t call me that! What is wrong with you?” he hisses. “Why are you so terrible?”

 “Terrible? I’m trying to get you laid, buddy. It’s certainly never going to happen if I leave you to your own devices, although I’m sure you’re taking care of yourself plenty. You’re a guy, after all.”

 Peeta’s face floods with heat, and he wants to slide onto the floor and hide behind the counter. She’s not wrong—he is a healthy, twenty-one-year-old man who hasn’t dated in a while—but Peeta doesn’t want his co-worker to know that. She’ll probably tell the whole world if he confirms what she suspects. Or say something to Katniss, which would be horrifying.

 “Why do you want to know?” he asks, suspicious.

 “Knowledge is power, my friend. Knowledge is power.”

 Still not convinced, he welcomes a patron and scans the student ID he’s handed. “Exactly ten minutes,” he mutters as he types in the bar codes of the pile of library books in front of him before sliding them across the counter. It’s almost midterm, so everyone’s trying to finish projects and bibliographies for research papers before they leave for spring break. The library’s been slammed for days.

 “She’s on her way over here,” Johanna nudges him.

 He whips his head up, and his eyes widen as he realizes Jo’s right. Katniss pages through a book as she strides toward the circulation desk. Johanna turns to busy herself with a pile of returned books, and he squeezes his legs together under the desk. If he can just stop his hands from shaking, things will be great.

 “Hi, Peeta,” she says with a guarded smile as she hands him her student ID. “How’s it going?”

 “K-katniss! Hi!” His voice squeaks, and he cringes internally. He sounds like an idiot. “It’s good. I’m good. How are you?”

 “Fine. I’m fine.” She hands him her student ID, and he glances down at the book she set on the counter.

 “History of Sculpture? That’s…”

 She laughs wryly and nods. “Yeah, I know. I’m not sure how I managed to get myself into it, but I signed up for an art appreciation class. I have zero artistic ability, so it’s painful.”

 “Oh,” he says. “That’s…yeah.”

 Johanna snorts behind him, and he tosses her a warning look. He should have known better. The woman doesn’t have a tactful bone in her body. Instead, she comes to stand behind Peeta and surveys Katniss.

 “You know, Peeta here is an art major,” Jo announces with her hand on his shoulder. “I bet he could help you with your art appreciation class. He’s great at that kind of stuff.”

 “Are you really?” Katniss asks, her eyes widening in pleased surprise. “I didn’t know that.”

 “I am,” he confirms. “I’m more of a painter than anything else, but I know quite a bit about all the different media. It’s kind of in the curriculum for my major.”

 She looks impressed, but she shakes her head as she picks up her book and tucks her ID into her pocket. “I couldn’t ask you to help, but that’s cool. I thought you were a biology major like me.”

 Johanna smacks him on the back, and he glares at her before wiping his expression clean and flashing a closed mouth grin at Katniss. When nobody says anything, Katniss turns to go.

 “Nonsense!” Jo cries. “Peeta’d be happy to help. I’m sure there’s something you could do for him to repay his generosity.”

 He swears under his breath and elbows Jo in the gut.

 “Oh, I don’t think there’s anything I have that Peeta wants—”

 “A ride home?” Jo interrupts. “Peeta’s car’s in the shop. He asked me for a ride, but his shift is over now, and I’ve got another two hours before I can leave. Poor guy. He’d really appreciate the lift.”

 Relief colors her face, and she nods. “I’d be happy to do that. My car’s on the street. I snagged one of those metered ones that are always full. Must be my lucky day.”

 “Oh, I’d say it certainly is,” Jo says, a wide self-satisfied smile plastered on her face. She practically shoves him out of his chair and adds, “Peeta, why don’t you go clock out. I’ll finish this up for you.”

 “I can—”

 “No, you can’t. You’re too close to hours. Besides, you wouldn’t want to keep Katniss waiting, now would you?”

 “You really are the devil, aren’t you?” he hisses as he grabs his stuff. “My car’s in the parking garage, not the shop. What the hell are you doing?”

 “Getting you some time alone with the girl of your dreams,” she explains with a withering look. “Now, let her give you a ride home so you can schmooze her.”

 Still disgruntled, he shuffles to the door and meets Katniss on the steps. She shifts uncomfortably, tugging on her braid and hunching her shoulders. He wonders if she’s trying to hide or if she’s cold in the chill of the early spring day.

 “I really appreciate this,” he says.

 She nods and leads him to her car. “No problem. It’s the least I can do.”

 “You don’t have to do anything at all.”

 She’s silent as she starts her car. Hesitating, she glances over at him and asks, “Does that mean you don’t want to tutor me? I understand if you don’t. It’s asking a lot for someone you barely know, especially since I can’t really afford to pay you.”

 “Except in rides.”

 “Well, yeah. I can do that.” She smiles at him tremulously and shifts the car into gear. Glancing over her shoulder, she signals and pulls out of the parking spot and onto the street.

 “You could help me in bio,” he blurts and his cheeks heat.

 “Really?”

 He cringes and shrugs. “Yeah. I can’t seem to get the hang of it. I think I’m one of those people that understands it in theory but not in practicality. I’m doing fine in the lecture, but lab is really confusing.” He doesn’t add that most of that is her fault, but not really, because he can’t stop mooning over her.

 “I can do that.”

 He glances at the pleased curve of her lips and wonders how he can make it happen again. The joy of seeing her happy sinks into his bones and gives him life. It’s ridiculous, but it’s true. He has no reason to think he should except common human decency matched with his overwhelming crush. He feels like a middle school boy who’s just figured out that girls and boys have different parts.

 Katniss stops at the intersection and glances over at him. Bashful, she admits, “I don’t know where I’m going.”

 Peeta’s eyebrows furrow and he motions out the windshield. “South?”

 “No,” she answers with a nervous laugh. “I mean, I don’t know where you live.”

 He’s an idiot. Of course she doesn’t know where he lives. “Sorry! Sorry. Turn left here. I wasn’t thinking.”

 “If you want…”

 “If I want?” he prods.

 “Well, maybe, if you don’t mind, that is.” She clears her throat and then words burst from her in a torrent. “I know a coffee shop that no one else really goes to. It’s quiet and the coffee’s good. They know me there, and I have a table they kind of save just for me. If you wanted to go over some of this sculpture stuff today, that’d be a good place.”

 “Oh. Okay,” he answers, fighting to keep his face clear of the glee he feels. Katniss Everdeen just asked him to go out with her. Well, she asked him to go somewhere with her, but that was more than he’d dreamed would happen any time he imagined actually speaking to her. Not only is he going to sit at the same table with her in a public place, but he’s at her mercy with transportation. She’s got him captive, and he approves.

 “Maybe I can take a look over your lab notes with you, too. You know, if you want.”

 Oh, he wants. That’s never been in question. He absolutely wants when it comes to Katniss Everdeen.

 “That’d be great. Really great.”

 The place itself is an independent coffee shop in an older area of town called The Seam. The properties tend to be more run-down than those closer to campus, but the café is cozy and humble and has great choices in both coffee and tea. He chooses a black peppermint he’s loved since his father made it for him when he was sick. His father had also snuck cookies to Peeta despite the disapproval of his mom. He adds sugar before taking a sip that transports him back to childhood. He breathes in as he swallows and blows out a heavy sigh.

 Amused, Katniss asks, “That good?”

 Nodding, he inhales the aroma and smiles softly. “Yeah. It’s that good. Thanks for bringing me here.”

 Pleased, Katniss drops her head and shuffles in her bag for the book on sculpture and her class  notes. They work together for over an hour before reviewing information from their biology lab. He finds she’s a good tutor, knowledgeable and skilled at breaking down the concepts into sizable chunks that seemed overwhelming previously. When he compliments her on it, she waves him off but returns the sentiment.

 “I already feel like I appreciate art more.”

 “Glad I could help.”

 “That doesn’t mean you’re off the hook, though,” she teases. “I’ll still need you after break’s over, but I think I can pass the final now, anyway.”

 He shivers at her claiming she’ll need him. It’s closer to genuine interest than anything he’s ever gotten from her, and it gives him a small thrill of hope.

 Reluctantly, she packs up her bag and sighs. “I really need to get home, but this was fun.”

 “Yeah, I should be getting back, too. Got a lot to do before bed.”

 They’re quiet as they slide into the car. Contemplative, Peeta almost forgets to provide instructions so Katniss knows where to take him. As he guides her through unfamiliar streets that turn into those he sees every day, he sends silent thanks to Johanna for her brashness and refusal to let things go. He only hopes he doesn’t have a ticket on his car when he retrieves it—hopefully before it’s towed.

 “This is it,” he says with a wave at his front door. None of his roommates are home, which means he’s stuck until they return. He doesn’t want to say goodbye, but she’s antsy, unsure what to do with her hands or where to look. “Thanks again for the ride. Come find me at the library after break, and we’ll do a repeat of tonight.”

 “Sounds great,” she says warmly. “Hope you get your car back soon.”

 “Yeah, me too,” he grumbles.

 He watches her leave, lifting his hand in farewell until her car turns the corner and heads back the way she came. Fishing his cell out of his pocket, he sends his roommates a group text asking when they’ll be home and if one of them can give him a ride back to campus. As each of them gives a reason for their absence, he realizes he’s on his own. He does stow his bag inside and grab a drink before heading back outside. Squaring his shoulders, he shoves his hands in his jacket pockets and begins the walk back.

 It takes an hour, and he does have a parking ticket. Still, Peeta has no regrets. The afternoon with Katniss was the best of the year with the promise of more to come. She’s worth the inconvenience. 

[whitewolfofwinterfell]

Harry Potter re-read: thoughts and ranking my favourite books

In 2020 I completed a full re-read of Harry Potter for the first time since I was a child. It was a rollercoaster experience of highs and lows; excitement, nostalgia, frustration, joy, boredom and everything in between. It took the whole year (in between reading other books) and I hit a wall in the sumer, but I’m glad I persevered and made it to the end. This series will always hold a special place in my heart and as much as I love the movies, there’s so much detail that is missed from them. I didn’t realise just how much my memories of the HP universe had been shaped by the movies until I read the books. I feel like I’ve reconnected with the universe and characters in an authentic way and lots of my opinions have changed as a result. 

Before we get to the ranking, some disclaimers:

If it wasn’t already obvious SPOILERS BELOW FOR THE HARRY POTTER SERIES (at this point I’d be surprised if there’s anybody that needs this warning, but better safe than sorry!).

This ranking is completely subjective and very changable. I love all of the books and I’ve based the ranking solely on my enjoyment of reading them. 

In writing this post I am in no way supporting or endorsing J.K. Rowling’s works. Her ignorance and hatred is intolerable and abhorrent. I discuss this more in the conclusion of this post.

None of the images or gifs featured were made by me, all credit goes to the creators.

7. The Goblet of Fire

One of my favourite movies, but my least favourite book. This one hasn’t aged well for me. It’s too long, there’s much too filler and it has the disadvantage of coming after The Prisoner of Azkaban. I like the idea of the Triwizard Tournament in theory, but the execution is dull. We spend chapters upon chapters upon chapters with Harry and Hermione researching and preparing for the tasks and the tasks themselves are very anti-climatic. It’s also difficult to ignore the fact that the second and third tasks take part underwater and in a maze, and the audience can’t even see what’s going on. Apparently there’s no spell that can allow the audience to see underwater or inside a maze, not even those Muggle inventions called cameras *face palm*

The sub-plot with S.P.E.W was equally dull and didn’t add much to the story. I also found it deeply uncomfortable and upsetting to read about the enslavement of elves and the way that slavery was portrayed in general. The one positive I took from it was seeing Dobby with his crazy jumpers and socks. Dobby is The Best.

(credit to xbirdyblue on DeviantArt for this wonderful fanart image of Dobby)

The reactions to Harry’s name coming out of the Goblet of Fire is what infuriated me most in this book because it doesn’t even make sense. Firstly, does anybody really believe Harry’s capable of overcoming such powerful magic to put his name in? Secondly, why the fudging hell would Harry want to put his name in the Goblet? He’s a 14 year old child who has endured endless trauma; he’s spent most of his life living in an abusive household and the 3 years he’d been at Hogwarts fighting against Voldemort. He doesn’t want fame or glory, he just wants to live a normal, peaceful life and hang out with his best friends. Ron’s reaction is particularly annoying because he of all people should know Harry wouldn’t put his name in the Goblet. I understand why Ron felt that way and I love him but... 

The one thing I did enjoy about this book is the evolution of Harry’s friendships with Ron and Hermione. Hermione is fiercely loyal to Harry and devoted every waking second to helping him succeed in the tasks. Despite Ron’s silly tantrum and their divide through most of the book, their falling out really does cement Harry’s love for Ron. 

"He thought he could have coped with the rest of the school's behaviour if he could just have Ron back as his friend." 

Harry liked Hermione very much, but she just wasn't the same as Ron. There was much less laughter and a lot more hanging round in the library." 

"The thing Harry Potter will miss the most, sir!"

"Harry didn't care, he wouldn't have cared if Karkaroff had given him zero; Ron's indignation on his behalf was worth a hundred points to him." 

What can I say? Ron is Harry’s platonic soul mate. That is all.

Barty Crouch’s escape from Azkaban and transformation into Moody is more cunning and intelligent than it was in the movies - this dude switched places with his mother and left her in Azkaban in his place!! 

Fred and George were by far the highlight of this book for me. Their characters are great in the movies, but in the books they’re just--

Their antics, wit and banter are top notch. I’d actually forgotten that Harry gave his prize winnings from the Tournament to Fred and George, and it seems like such a huge injustice!! This act of kindness and selflessness on Harry’s part is largely why Fred and George are able to set up Wizard Wheezes. It’s a testament to Harry’s love for Fred and George that he gave them his winnings. Harry may not have needed the money but he could’ve done literally anything with it, and chose to give it to the twins because he believed in their ideas and wanted to give them the opportunity they needed. 

GOF was always one of my favourite movies because of this moment: 

Voldemort’s return was one of the most chilling, terrifying and shocking moments for me as a kid. The scene in the graveyard still stands out as being one of my favourite scenes from the movies. In the books, it didn’t have the same impact, unfortunately. In fact, this is what was noticeable to me all the way through reading this book - I like the movie more. The movie cuts out the filler, takes the interesting aspects of the book and does them better.

Overall, despite being at the bottom of my list, I still like GOF. It’s a huge step up in world-building and is an entertaining book with a great premise;  I loved the Golden Trio’s friendship, the appearances from Dobby and Fred and George’s antics. Unfortunately, this book is let down by the sheer amount of filler, the underwhelming execution of the main plot and too much focus on sub-plots like S.P.E.W.

6. The Sorcerer’s Philosopher’s Stone 

It was really difficult to rank Phliosopher’s Stone, because it holds a special place in my heart because it’s where the series began. This book does a great job at introducing Hogwarts and it captures those nostalgic, magical Hogwarts vibes unlike any of the other books. This book is all about the wonder and the joy of Hogwarts, and Hogwarts lives in my heart, so stepping into this magical world with Harry for the first time again was a joy to read.  

I love the time spent in this book on experiencing the smaller wonders of the magical world with Harry - Platform 9 3/4, Hogwarts Express, Diagon Alley, Ollivanders, the Sorting Hat, Great Hall feasts, ghosts etc. It’s exciting and fun to read about, and truly a gem of a book for children.

Seeing Harry go from living in a cupboard and suffering abuse and neglect to an incredible world full of wonder and people who want to get to know him and show him kindness was a joy to read. I love the development of Harry, Ron and Hermione’s friendship and how, despite how short the book is, it’s developed properly. Their friendship with Hermione doesn’t happen overnight, but by the end there’s a genuine bond and trust between them. 

But of course, as the first book in the series, the plot is lacking and the writing isn’t at its strongest. Also, despite how short it is I did feel a little bored reading the second half. It’s a great entry to the series and does a wonderful job at establishing the world, main trio and other characters, but in the grander scheme of the series it’s quite bland a forgettable. 

5. The Deathly Hallows

Now this one came as a big surprise to me, because before my re-read I considered The Deathly Hallows to be my favourite book, but I just didn’t enjoy it this time around. The first 50-60% of this book got me like: 

I was bored as hell. The travelling, the hunting for Horcruxes, Dumbledore’s backstory, the bickering between Harry, Ron and Hermione...it was tiresome. Fortunately, amongst that there were a lot of isolated things that I enjoyed. 

Firstly, I adore the Tale of the Three Brothers, it’s interesting and I love the depiction of it in the movies - it’s just so cool!

Secondly, Ron and Hermione are very cute in this book, and for the first time I  appreciated them as a romantic ship. 

Thirdly, Harry looking through Sirius’ room and finding a letter from Lily broke my heart. This moment is so touching and completely unexpected, since I’d forgotten about it over the years. 

(credit to alessiatrunifo for this stunning fanart)

Fourthly, LUNA LOVEGOOD. You know what? I have no qualms in saying Luna is one of my new favourite characters since my re-read. I always liked her, but she never stood out to me, and that’s changed. It’s not just that she’s unique and wacky, but that she’s fiercely independent, moral, kind and loyal. Luna has such a strong sense of who she is and she doesn’t let anyone or anything contradict that. 

Can I also admit that I might slightly ship Harry and Luna now? 🙊 Luna seeing through Harry’s disguise as “Barney Weasley” based on his facial expressions alone and their reactions to the possibility of the other being in danger touched my heart. 

"'She will [survive],' said Harry. He could not bear to contemplate the alternative. 'She's tough Luna, much tougher than you'd think. She's probably teaching all the inmates about Wrackspurts and Nargles.'" 

"Oh, no, I didn't want you to be caught!" 

They’re cute, okay?

Finally, Kreacher! This was perhaps one of the biggest surprises from reading this book, because I’d completely forgotten about Kreacher’s story. And boy, oh, boy did this pull on my heartstrings. Kreacher has one of the most tragic backstories in the HP universe and he absolutely deserves the redemption he got in this book. I loved seeing him develop a genine relationship with Harry, Ron and Hermione, and the fact that they never went back for him made me so sad. Poor Kreacher!

I enjoyed all of these elements of the first half of the book, and then I got to The Sacking of Severus Snape and it was like:

This is where the book finally took off for me (unfortunately, it took 30 chapters to get there) and as soon as Harry, Ron and Hermione are back in Hogwarts I couldn’t put it down. There are so many brilliant moments and things I loved that all I can really do is bullet point them:

The character reunions.

Percy finally redeeming himself!!!!

McGonnagal being the most badass to ever badass.

Neville Longbottom owns my heart ❤❤❤

Neville's grandmother's response to finding out Neville was fighting in the battle - "Naturally [he is]. Excuse me, I must go and assist him." 

Ron and Hermione's first kiss!! and Harry’s reaction to it - "Is this the moment? OI! There's a war going on here!"

Percy handing in his resignation whilst Stupefy-ing his boss - "Hello, Minister! Did I mention I'm resigning?"

The Forest Again was such an emotional chapter. It got me good.

"You'll stay with me?" "Until the very end." 😭

"Harry, you wonderful boy. You brave, brave man."

"Perhaps those who are best suited to power are those who have never sought it. Those, who, like you, have leadership thrust upon them, and take up the mantle because they must, and find to their own surprise that they wear it well."

Did I mention that Neville is bloomin' amazing?

Kreacher!!!!!! "Fight! Fight! Fight for my master, defender of the house-elves! Fight the Dark Lord in the name of brave Regalus! Fight!"

Reading The Flaw in the Plan was soooo much more satisfying than watching it play out on-screen in the movie. 

In many ways DH has some of the best, most satisfying moments of any of the books. It’s a strong conclusion to the series and there’s so much that I loved about it; so many memorable and emotional moments (Dobby and Fred’s deaths still hit hard 20 years later). Unfortunately, it was dragged down by the first half of the book and the epilogue. I tried so hard to keep an open mind about the epilogue, but the truth is it still BLOWS. And the more time that passes the more I resent the decisions that were made about character deaths. I understand that the stakes were high and we needed to lose characters close to our hearts but Fred?? Dobby??? Remus??? NO! Just no, okay? I don’t accept that. 

4. The Order of the Phoenix

Now, The Order of the Phoenix had similar issues as DH for me - it had a very slow start but a great ending. I did take a couple of months break in the middle of reading this one and distinctly remember slogging my way through the first half and devouring the second half. 

I’ve made no secret over the years that Sirius and Remus are two of favourite HP characters, so I expected to enjoy OOTP a lot for that reason. I did really enjoy all the smatterings of Sirius and Remus we go throughout this book. Unfortunately, there wasn’t enough for me. This book really highlighted for me how limited Harry’s POV was, because I wanted more of an insight into the Order but Harry was kept in the dark the entire time which was frustrating. 

One of the main character highlights of this book is the legend Minverva McGonnagal. Her sass, strength and determination to defend Hogwarts and its students against Dolores is astounding. Here are some of my favourite McGonnagal moments:

"Well, usually when a person shakes their head they mean 'no.'"

"Can I offer you a cough drop, Dolores?"

"I should have made my meaning plainer. [Harry] has achieved high marks in all Defence Against the Dark Arts tests set by a compotent teacher."

Defending Hagrid against Umbridge.

And of course:

(Still can’t believe the movie robbed us of this!)

Time for a less popular opinion - I loved Harry in this book. In general, this book made me feel very protective of Harry, because Harry is bloomin’ incredible and deserves so much better than what he gets in this book. He’s always had a bad rep in OOTP for being an annoying, angsty teenager, but in my opinion, this is Harry at his most relatable and lovable. After everything Harry went through, he’s entitled to be angry with the world. He endured everything that he did and took the responsibility of the world onto his shoulders with little complaint, and in OOTP he reaches breaking point. Honestly, I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner. The adults in Harry’s life are glaringly irresponsible in this book. Not only do they force him back to the Dursley’s after the hugely traumatic events of GOF based on some bull about “blood magic”, but they purposefully hide the truth from him even though that puts him at greater risk and adds to his emotional distress. Everyone around Harry expects him to be mature and act like an adult when he’s fighting against the darkest wizard of all time, yet don’t give him the courtesy or respect of telling him the truth about significant things that impact him and the people he loves. Sirius os the only person that refuses to belittle Harry, but in some ways, his behaviour is just as damaging as those that tried to shelter Harry from the truth, because he expects too much of Harry and projects James’ personality onto him. The adults around Harry fail him to such an extent in this book that he establishes the DA because he can’t even rely on the adults around him to keep him and his friends safe. Harry’s emotions in this book aren’t only understandable, but justified and I felt an even deeper connection to him as a result. His vulnerability shows his strength and courage more than ever before. This is the point where he goes from the Chosen One to a true champion, because even when he reaches rock bottom and wants to give up, he doesn’t walk away. I love Harry so much.

The Department of Mysteries is by far one of my favourite sections from any of the books. I love the friendship dynamics, Luna, Neville and Ginny are given the chance to really shine, the stakes are high, the action is great and despite the trauma of Sirius’ death, that moment is so hard-hitting and memorable. This section of the book just took it to a new level for me. It was really great.

The emotion of Sirius’ death was captured so perfectly, and is such a huge turning point for Harry. Like I said above, choosing to go on even after losing Sirius proves that Harry is a true hero; that he isn’t just doing what he was doing out of obligation or has been told to but because he believes in doing the right thing. I best move on before I continue to speak about how amazing Harry James Potter is.

Now we come to Neville. Can you believe that I’d actually forgot the details of Neville being the Chosen One? It was a blast learning about that again and how he’s connected to the prophecy. I also loved that we got to see his family and not just be told about it via dialogue. Neville is by far one of the most loveable and interesting minor characters in the series. He has so many great moments in books 1-4, but he really shines in OOTP.

The more I write about this book, the more I find things to love. It’s just a shame that the first half lets it down, because overall, I think there’s a lot of great material here in terms of plot and character development.

3. The Chamber of Secrets

I know that The Chamber of Secrets is generally ranked low amongst most fans, but I love it. At this point, the books were more simplistic and just fun, and I like that. I also have to acknowledge that I have a deep affinity for the COS movie - I grew up watching it over and over, and of all the movies it’s still the one I know best and always come back to (still can’t believe the “Why couldn’t it be follow the butterflies line?” wasn’t even in the books!)

I love all of the different elements in this book:

Dobby

The Burrow

The flying car

Whomping Willow

Moaning Myrtle 

This idiot

Gilderoy Lockhart is one of my favourite antagonists in the entire series, because he isn’t intentionally bad, he’s just an arrogant fool. His primary concern is his image and reputation and he was willing to go to any lengths to maintain it. He’s a bad person in a subtle and hilarious way. 

Generally speaking, there are too many fun and entertaining moments to count in this book. I love the childish-ness of this book in comparison to the darker tone the series adopts from POA onwards. For me, COS still has the silliness and merriment that I really associate HP with. Entertainment value aside, the plot in COS is actually well executed.

As a short, concise and effective plot, Tom Riddle’s diary and the Chamber of Secrets works incredibly well. I liked the mystery and suspense of the culprit of the Muggle born attacks, and the big moments connected to it - finding out that Hagrid might be the perpetrator, Ginny being possessed by Voldemort, Hermione being petrified, Harry speaking Parceltongue. The stakes are high and this plot is strong enough to keep momentum going between the more light hearted moments.

Overall, COS is a quick, easy and fun read. It may not be the best written or complex book in the series, but I’m a huge advocate for it. Not only is it highly entertaining, but it also introduced a lot of great and important aspects to the series (Horcruxes, Tom Riddle being the heir of Slytherin, Harry being connected to Voldemort, polyjuice potion and Dobby), and built very well on what was established in PS. 

2. The Half Blood Prince

The biggest surprise of this re-read was how much I bloomin’ loved Half Blood Prince. It has the perfect balance of plot, character development, mystery, humour and emotion. Out of the bigger books in the series, this was the one I finished the fastest (2 days), because it was quite literally un-put-downable (yes, that’s a word). 

First, let’s talk about the plot, because wow, it’s a good ‘un. In my opinion, it’s the strongest and best written plot from any of the books. There’s Voldemort’s backstory, the development of Harry and Dumbledore’s relationship, Snape’s backstory, the mystery of the Half Blood Prince, Harry’s rivalry/suspicion of Malfoy, hunting Horcruxes and Dumbledore’s death. This book feels like an incredible pay-off for things that have been built up in the previous 5 books. We learn so much about certain characters - Dumbledore, Snape, Malfoy, Voldemort, Ginny - and regardless of whether I liked those characters or not, I was invested. The clues that Snape is the Half Blood Prince are cleverly interwoven within the narrative and the mystery keeps you guessing, even when you know who it is. 

The last part of this book from Chapter 26 onwards was just explosive. Although I knew what was coming, I was surprised at the level of emotion I felt when Dumbledore and Harry were in the cave and when Dumbledore died. My heart was racing and I had tears in my eyes. 

This book just doesn’t let up for a second. If we aren’t learning more about Voldemort, we’re following Draco to see what he’s up to or unravelling mysteries around the Half Blood Prince or trying to get information from Slughorn about horcruxes. Even the down time is enjoyable to read in this book (Chapter 9 was one of my favourite chapters to read) and the friendships and banter are stellar. 

In terms of character development, this is also one of the strongest books. Dumbledore is finally developed beyond the omnipotent Gandalf-esque archetype and we learn bout his past and his flaws.

"I have already proven to you, I make mistakes like the next man. In fact, being - forgive me - rather cleverer than most men, my mistakes tend to be correspondingly huger." 

The focus on Dumbledore also sets it up for his death, and you know what? It works. If we’d lost Dumbledore prior to HBP, I would’ve been shocked and upset, but losing him at this point hurts that much more because we learn so much more about him, see how important he is to Harry and how vital his guidance is in defeating Voldemort. Dumbledore’s death feels like all hope is lost, and so soon after losing Sirius it feels even harsher.

Insight into Snape’s back-story finally explains some of his motivations and actions (though it does not condone them).

Although Voldemort’s backstory doesn’t necessarily add to our understanding of him, it’s interesting to see how he came into the world, and learn about his family background. What this demonstrated most to me is that a lot of the time there is no reason for evil. Voldemort didn’t really have any motivations for what he did. Sure, he didn’t have the perfect, happy childhood but there isn’t really enough substance there to try to explain how or why he became the monster that he did. 

More could’ve been done with Malfoy, but I enjoyed him having a bigger presence in this book and how the idea that family shapes who we are isn’t always true. Draco does what is expected of him from his family, but ultimately, he has his own conscience and inner turmoil that forces him to question things.

As for Harry...he goes to a dark place in this book. OOTP has always been cpnsidered as the “angsty Harry”, but HBP takes Harry to new places. Harry feels more ruthless, reckless and determined in this book than any other. There’s an underlying sense of apathy that lingers from Sirius’ death. He obsesses about his mission to extract the memory from Slughorn and his lessons with Dumbledore, and fixates on his hatred for Draco and Snape. The fact that Harry uses Sectumsempra on Draco is honestly the most alarming thing that Harry does because it shows how dark a place Harry has gone to. He knows the spell is going to inflict serious harm and yet he uses it anyway. 

Generally, Harry abuses the potions book and manipulates, lies and takes advantage of almost everyone around him. I really see his dependency on that book and his choice to exploit it for his own benefit as adverse effects of the grief and trauma he endured. For once, he has the upper hand and I’d even argue that despite the Half Blood Prince being anonymous stranger to him, he relies on him as a mentor or parental figure. Yet despite it being a dark book for Harry, he also seems to get some genuine peace with Ginny. Although I’m not a Hinny shipper, it was so nice to see Harry experience some normality and contentment. No matter what he goes through, he remains kind hearted. I actually feel like this book more than any other emphasises that point - Harry could just as easily have gone down the same path as Vodlemort, but he made a choice not to.

“In spite of all the temptation you have endured, all the suffering, you remain pure of heart, just as pure as you were at the age of eleven, when you stared into a mirror that reflected your hears desire and it showed you the only way to thwart Lord Voldement, and not immortality or riches. Harry, have you any idea how few wizards could have seen what you saw in the mirror?" 

Plot and character development aside, the comedy in this book is gold and I appreciate the movie (and Daniel Radcliffe) for maximising on that to create some of the best and funniest scenes in the movie franchise. Chapter 18 in particular was hilarious.

Now I have to speak about one of my favourite moments from this book:

Since GoF, Fleur was grossly mistreated and discriminated against by the Weasley’s (Molly and Ginny in particular). The way they treated her was sexist and xenophobic pure and simple. They had no reason to dislike her and all of their reasons seemed to be built on some flimsy notion that she was full of herself (why, just because she was beautiful? and even if she was, what’s wrong with confidence?!) and that she was annoying and loud because she was French. Seeing Fleur finally stand up to their bigotry was fantastic. It’s a moment I’d been waiting for for so long and I’m so glad we got it, because frankly, Molly and Ginny’s beahviour towards Fleur needed to be addressed because it was disgusting.

Overall, HBP demonstrates the strengths of HP as a series. In comparison to the other books, I don’t really have anything to crituqe I enjoyed all of it from beginning to end, which is why it almost took the top spot in this ranking.

1. The Prisoner of Azkaban

It was really close between first and second place, but Prisoner of Azkaban just managed it. This is where the HP series truly takes off and starts to shine. In comparison to what we got in PS and COS it’s richer - the plot is complex, the world building is more developed, the characters are great and it’s generally an entertaining read but with added complexity in comparison to its predecessors.

I like that POA allows us to spend so much time in Hogwarts hanging out, but that the plot comes to the forefront more. We’re all so familiar with HP at this point that it’s easy to forget the impact the plot-twists must’ve punched the first time we read them. But for me, it’d been so long since I’d read the series, that it really was like reading them for the first time and POA was one of the ones that surprised me at various points.

I’d forgot details like:

The Shrieking Shack got its name and reputation because Lupin locked himself up there during transformations; The Whomping Willow was planted to hide the secret passage to the Shrieking Shack and prevent Lupin from escaping and hurting people in his werewolf form

Crookshanks was Sirius’ ally

Sirius escaped Azkaban in his dog form

Unsurprisingly, Remus and Sirius were the highlight of this book for me. I know it’s basic but I really love them and the two of them having such a focus in this book really makes it.

Remus truly shines in this book. He’s a lovable character – a great teacher, a supportive mentor and a loyal friend. His tragic backstory only adds to his character. Snape tries to villainise Remus for being a werewolf, but the reality is that he’s a victim. He was an innocent child that was bitten by a vicious, cruel monster and has to live with the consequences of that for the rest of his life. He carries so much self-loathing, fear and insecurity because of what he is and he doesn’t deserve it. Dumbledore is the only one that separates the man from the wolf and takes Remus on his merits. He knows that Remus is a genuinely good person and a talented teacher, and he’s willing to make the necessary adjustments to enable Remus equal opportunity. Not only does it benefit Remus for Dumbledore to do this, but the students too, because let’s face it, Remus is a bloody damn good teacher.

Remus is arguably the most decent and responsible adult character in the entire HP universe. He respects Harry’s agency but also acknowledges that he’s still a child that needs protection and guidance. Instead of lying to Harry or throwing him into dangerous situations, he does perhaps the most helpful thing any adult ever does for Harry – he teaches him how to defend himself. I love that Lupin and Harry’s relationship in this book foreshadows the formation of the DA in OOTP; Lupin is the only one that teaches Harry practical DATDA skills and in the absence of Lupin as a teacher, Harry then takes on that role as a mentor and provides his friends with the skills to defend themselves. 

Now we come to Sirius. Introducing Sirius as the enemy – a dangerously, mad criminal who is conspiring with Voldemort and wants Harry dead – and then revealing him to be the complete opposite was genius. Part of me wished I could completely forget so that I could experience the utter shock of finding that out for the first time. The fact that Harry saw his parents in the Mirror of Erised in PS and then finds Sirius and Lupin in this book touches my heart. Sirius is a direct link to Harry’s parents unlike anything he’s ever had. Although on the surface, their bond develops too quickly, considering that Harry is 13 years old and all he wants more than anything is to have parents and/or a connection to his parents, his quick attachment to Sirius makes sense. The thought of living with Sirius makes Harry so happy that he used it to power his patronus!!! Likewise, Sirius clings to Harry knowing that he’s the son of his best friends. He spent the entirety of his time in Azkaban knowing Harry was still out there somewhere without James and Lily and in danger from Voldemort. Immediately, Sirius provides Harry with the type of comfort about his parents that he’s never received before.

“You think the dead we have loved ever truly leave us? You think that we don't recall them more clearly than ever in times of great trouble? Your father is alive in you, Harry, and shows himself most plainly when you have need of him. How else could you produce that particular Patronus? Prongs rode again last night.”

One of the highlights of this book is the scene where Snape catches Harry with the Marauders Map. That quote is just legendary.

"Mr Moony presents his compliments to Professor Snape, and begs him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people's business. Mr Prongs agrees with Mr Moony, and would like to add that Professor Snape is an ugly git. Mr Padfoot would like to register his astonishment that an idiot like that ever became a Professor. Mr Wormtail bids Professor Snape good day, and advises him to wash his hair, the slimeball."

Admittedly, the time travel in this book is problematic as hell. I’m grateful that Harry and Hermione were able to save Buckbeak and Sirius due to time travel, but if it was up to me, I’d remove time travel from the universe completely. It doesn’t fit, it’s too complicated and creates too many issues. McGonnagal condones the use of time travel for Hermione to attend extra lessons and yet won’t use it to tackle real, important problems, like I don’t know, war, death, disease, disasters etc. Not to mention the entire Voldemort problem and Harry becoming the Chosen One could’ve been resolved by going back to the night of James and Lily’s deaths.

One of my favourite elements of this book was seeing Ron and Hermione’s friendship with Hagrid. A lot of emphasis is placed on Harry’s friendship with Hagrid. but this book shows how devoted Ron and Hermione are to Hagrid. They both spend a lot of their time comforting him and helping him to prepare for Buckbeak’s trial.

This book has a great balance – it’s still on the shorter side but it doesn’t suffer for it. and here’s plenty of plot and character development. Ironically, whilst HBP is my favourite because of the emphasis on the main plot, POA is my favourite because it takes a break from Voldemort. It’s refreshing to take a step away from Voldemort and put the focus onto a new villain in Sirius, and then for the twist to be revealed that he’s not actually a villain but Harry’s godfather. The time-turner is the biggest draw-back in this book, but I can overlook that because there’s so much more to love in this book. It’s definitely the most re-readable book in terms of the length and plot. This book is a happy medium which incorporates the strengths from all of the other books in a smaller package than HBP - it’s fun but expands on the universe, introduces brilliant new characters and has a depth and complexity that the first two lack whilst not having the filler that books 4-7 have.  

Conclusion

It’s hard to read these books without it being mingled with childhood nostalgia, so that undoubtedly informed my ranking. Despite being a children's series, the books still hold up reading them as an adult. I enjoyed rediscovering the smaller details I’d forgotten over the years and feel much closer to the universe as a result. The characters and their dynamics are by far my favourite thing about HP. I also enjoy the whimsical magic and how this is offset against the darker tone later in the series. However, in light of JKR’s hateful rhetoric, my attention was drawn to the problematic elements of the books such as the portrayal of slavery in addition to: 

Lack of major/well-written characters of color

Anti-semitic caricature of goblin bankers

Cho Chang’s name (which many consider offensive), stereotypical placement in Ravenclaw (the smart house) while being the only East-Asian character in the books, and she functions almost exclusively as a love interest

Ableism all-around

Nagini, an evil snake who gets chopped in half, is actually an Asian woman according to Fantastic Beasts, making her the second of two named East Asian characters in the franchise

“Magic in North America,” a history of magic in North America published on Pottermore that grossly misappropriates and misconstrues Native American cultures

Anthony Goldstein, retconned token Jewish character, also stereotypically named

General stereotypical naming of non-Anglo-Saxon characters

Remus Lupin’s werewolf status as an AIDS metaphor while depicting his condition as making him monstrous, and the man who bit him goes around biting people for kicks

Declaring that Dumbledore is gay with exactly 0 in-canon references, and no other LGBTQ+ representation  (article credit: Separating Art from Artist - Thoughts on J.K. Rowling written by Melina List on Medium)

This is the last time I will read these books, partly because I’ve outgrown them, but mostly because I can’t, without a heavy conscience ignore the relationship between JKR’s hateful views and her works. If you want to learn more about this, I’d recommend checking out a post from my_weird_bookish_heart on Instagram which explains why we couldn’t and shouldn’t ignore the problems in these books by adopting a “art is separate from the artist” mentality (if you would like the link to this please message me and I’l be happy to share it. We can all still love and enjoy HP, but we all have a moral duty to acknowledge and take responsibility for this and not feign ignorance. Views like JKR’s directly harm individuals and groups, not just in the trans community but also the Jewish and LGBTQIA+ communities and people of colour. I can’t and won’t accept that in silence. No matter how special HP was to me as a child, the lives of real humans are unquestionably more important.

Thank you for reading.

[torishasupremacy]

going through my middle/high school notes on my phone

here are some atrocities I found:

song lyrics i wrote that i cant tell whether they’re terrible and dumb or actually kind of slap 

a billion links to h*milton fanfics that i immediately deleted (and then proceeded to throw up)

“spanish hip hop version of beauty and the best” with absolutely no context

oh god oh fuck now its a bunch of links to h*milton animatics i crave death 

and now we’ve moved on to the dear evan hansen animatics. less cringe but i still wanna punch 14 y/o me in the face

okayyyy a bunch of otp prompts. sure.

“Self-doubt is your worst enemy. Do not fall victim to the illusion of fear.” - Kayla Robinson

acne treatments because i was super insecure ab my skin. dont worry honey it gets better and by better i mean your skin still sucks but you aren’t super depressed ab it anymore

why did i write down the twitter bios for h*milton actors. why.

a list of overwatch characters back when there were only like 20

like 3 separately written lists of be more chill songs?? who are these for??

a prediction for the end of the heroes of olympus series. it didn’t happen.

a massive list of sexuality and ship hcs for characters from 6 different musicals that i apparently spent 30 minutes on

be more chill character names but in morse code?? 

“why determinate when you could just terminate? kill everyone.”

the following but in spanish: “My notebook is over here. For the first time, she is happy. Apparently the apple is red. At last, she finishes her homework. The book is good for now.”

a paragraph about why i liked be more chill that started talking about how i met one of my best friends after we realized his computer wallpaper was a scene from the show and my wallpaper was fan art of that scene, which id completely forgotten about. he ended up being a fake/toxic friend, so go figure.

“Greek mytholoPHI” horrible pun 0/10

a recipe for dijon mustard?????

“first of all, frankenstein is a stylish motherfucker” again, with absolutely ZERO context, that’s the whole note

this fucking poem: “Eyes they see. Lids they blink. Asa’s a Twink.”

a poem that is actually good and about how i was in love with my best friend but too scared to ask him out. really hits different now considering he was awful behind my back rip :)

(also we both presented as female lesbians at the time but he transitioned which is why im using he/him pronouns)

 disturbingly long and thought out sanders sides fanfiction ideas. they have all now been deleted

screenshots of this conversation:

matt: cognitive behavioral therapy explain this

kate: no bitch

matt: my mom is calling your mom RIGHT NOW

kate: UR MOOOOOMMM

matt: yeah well you smell

lola: u smell

lola: like warm beet chunks

zach: ew

matt: :(

lola: u smell like borscheeeee

me: im calling the police on everyone

kate: I like humUUSSSSS

amy: beets make me feel rustic 

matt: I cant go back to jail

mmmm now we’ve moved onto poetry AFTER he broke my heart. fun.

lmao one note titled “cast of characters” and all it says below is “...”

a really bad idea for a movie about a lesbian thespian youtuber that’s immediately followed by research on homosexuality during the holocaust

the following dreams:

“I was playing overwatch in a building in the city until half past midnight. I had to drive home and I was really bad at driving because I had to press a button to stop and I would forget to press the button until the last moment and almost crash into the car ahead of me. Then I went into the freeway above the sea and I was freaking out because it was the opposite direction from home so I did a u turn but I ended up on a ferry and I panicked and drove the car into the ocean”

“I was keeping my friend’s gecko alexander in the console of the car and mom built a picture frame terrarium to keep him in”

“I had adopted four peacock pigeon hybrids and they kept jumping in the pool. I was going to name them chad, taylor, ryan, and sharpay but dad told me to think about it and then I was debating whether to name them after the sanders sides or not”

the only decipherable part of the next note is this:

“I know him... he’s the worst kind of evil.” “What’s that?” “Little brothers”

tips for playing moira in overwatch

“12 animatronics 14 shark pool 17 accused of accusing friend of incest but actually neo betrayed will mike blanket” what does this MEAN???

a list of wacky improv characters we had on one scene: 

Nun having fun 

College dropout

Kleptomaniac teenager 

Horny teenager

Creepy uncle

I have no memory of this scene except my aro ace friend had to play the horny teenager so he kept yelling I WANT TO BONE

the entire be more chill script. like the entire thing. what the actual fuck.

my southern relatives called a storm a “frog strangler of rain” and I wrote that down

a link to the asexual manifesto

different south east asian currencies and exchange rates

quote from my classmate who was literally harold from total drama but more political: “What I’m asking is that if I had infinite helium balloons how many would I need to lift my body- not to float infinitely- but enough to plausibly kill me?”

an essay about populism

a description of a woman in my dreams. her name was millie but she made it clear her name was NOT millie bobby brown. she was bisexual and wore a shiny peacock blue leather jacket with a blue tank top and jeans. she had straight hair that was a mix of blonde and brown that was cut into a choppy bob. she and her pet tiger were living in a trailer in the woods because her boyfriend kicked her out

my natal chart (im a double aries and lunar capricorn)

a note that says “tamil nadu india” and nothing else

ive given up. if you read this far: why.

[justcallmehitgirl]

Good Woman Part 3 (Peter Parker x Female Reader Smut)

Summary: Peter wants to watch you again.

Word Count: 3600

Warnings: smut, masturbation, exhibitionism, suit!porn, and language

A/N: Here’s Part 3 as promised. Please let me know your thoughts!

(4/20/20): I fixed some typos, grammar mistakes, character inconsistencies, etc. from my original posting. I also made some stylistic changes.

PART ONE / PART TWO // PART FOUR / PART FIVE / PART SIX / PART SEVEN / PART EIGHT / PART NINE / PART TEN / STORY PAGE

Peter comes back a few days later, swiftly landing on your fire escape as the cool breeze of the autumn air brushes against him. He crouches down and peers into your window—the eyes on his mask adjusting to get a better look at you. He spots you sitting at your desk, hands speedily writing in a notebook as you scan the textbook splayed out in front of you. Your hair is tied up in a messy bun on top of your head, lips nibbling on your bottom lip and forehead creasing in deep concentration.

He’s surprised to see you up working so late. He presses a hand against the window, watching it curiously as it slowly swings open with a creak. You jerk your head in his direction, face softening as your eyes land on him. 

The corner of your mouth quirks up, and you wave your hand, motioning for him to enter. He quickly obliges, crawling through the window and carefully closing it shut behind him. He makes his way over to you and places a hand on the back your chair. He lifts his mask up above his mouth and leans down to give you a quick kiss.

“You’re up late,” he breathes, mouth inches away from yours.

“Calculus homework,” you pout.

“Calculus, huh? I didn’t know you were good at math.”

You raise your brow, folding your hands across your chest, your mouth settling into a hard line. 

“Why? Because I’m a girl?”

Peter cringes. “N—no, I didn’t mean it like that,” he stammers. “I just meant that math is hard and I hate math, well I don’t hate it, but I’m not naturally good at it and—”

You lift a hand up, your mouth curving into a smile. “Chill Spidey, I’m just messing with you.”

He exhales. “Okay, because I think girls who are good at math is totally impressive. I’m a big supporter of girls in STEM too.”

“Cheers to you for being so progressive,” you smirk, giving him a soft, playful clap. 

He blushes and clears his throat. “So I take it math’s your favorite subject?”

You shrug, turning your attention back to your notebook. “I guess it is. I mean, it’s the only subject that makes sense to me. I can’t decipher a haiku to save my life.”

“Is math what you want to major in?” he asks, taking a seat on your bed.

You chew on your bottom lip before responding, “I think so. . . I’m thinking about becoming a data scientist actually.”

“Wow, that sounds impressive. What kind of stuff would you do?” he asks, leaning forward on his elbows. 

Your eyes are cast down, continuing to scribble in your notebook. You respond, “I would be analyzing company data to boost production. You see, data scientists collect, analyze, and interpret large data sets, and then they use the information to develop like, data-driven solutions for businesses. I mean, it’s not super exciting, but it’s stable work and it’s math-related. You probably think I’m such a geek.”

Peter can’t help but inwardly swoon, as he processes the fact the girl of his dreams was not only sexy as hell, but also a genius. He just eyes you for a few seconds, mesmerized by everything about you. 

“Spidey?”

He refocuses his gaze, realizing that your eyes are roaming carefully over his form.

“I wish I knew what you were thinking,” you continue. “All I can kind of tell is that your mask eye things are getting wider and smaller.” 

You mimic his mask’s actions with your hands, your forehead creasing.

Peter gives you a half-smile. “I was just thinking that I. . .”

“I’ve really enjoyed messing around with you, but I’m actually that loser Peter Parker who’s pined over since I realized girls were a thing, and you’re pretty much way out of my league so I’m going to leave now and never show my face at Midtown ever again. Nice knowing you, and have a goodnight!”

He shakes head, ridding the thought quickly from his mind. “I was just thinking,” he continues, “that I’m glad I landed on your fire escape.”

You beam. “Is that so? As opposed to another girl who wasn’t masturbating in front of her window?”

Peter’s cheeks redden. “Well when you say it like that!”

You reach over, playfully smacking his arm and he grins. You nod at your textbook. “I just have a few things to finish, but then, we can. . . do stuff.”

His mouth twitches, body feeling warm. “What kind of stuff?”

“Adult stuff,” you say, lowering your voice for emphasis.

He groans. “Yes, please.”

You turn your attention back to your homework, body straightening as you furiously write in your notebook. He leans back on his elbows, observing you. He watches your subtle body language, from the way your tongue peeks out from your mouth to your brows knitting. A piece of hair falls from your bun, but you quickly tuck the loose piece behind your ear, never breaking concentration as you purse your lips. 

Peter wishes he had the courage to talk to you in real life before you met Spider-Man. He regrets not telling you how pretty you looked in that pink, long-sleeved blouse you wore on the first day back from summer, or how your still-life painting in art class was breathtaking. 

Peter sighs, wishing he wasn’t Spider-Man right now. He doesn’t want the mask or the secrecy. He just wants to be a high-school boy discovering sex with a beautiful girl. He craves normalcy with you, desperately wanting to do cliche couple things from holding your hand in the hallway at school to stealing kisses with you in between classes to making out underneath the bleachers.

He also wants to hear you say his name when you’re in the throes of pleasure.

“Are you okay?”

Your voice shakes Peter out of his thoughts, eyes locking on yours. You smile sheepishly and add, “Sorry if I interrupted you, but you looked far away for a moment. Not like I’m a great judge of knowing your facial expressions through that mask of yours, of course, but it was just a feeling.”

Peter chews on his bottom lip, forehead furrowed as the words catch in his throat. “It’s okay,” you continue. “You don’t have to say anything. I just have one more problem anyways and then we can hang out.”

Peter nods, and your eyes linger on his for a moment before turning back to your textbook. He taps his fingers on his thigh as his eyes roam around your bedroom. He tries to absorb every detail—from your collection of Nancy Drew books lined up neatly on your bookshelf to an old Cabbage Patch doll propped up on top of your dresser. There are pictures of you with your friends from school and with your family tacked onto a corkboard, and a Harvard pennant pinned above it. There’s also a ‘Moulin Rouge!’ poster and a framed, vinyl record of Minnie Riperton’s “Perfect Angel” hanging on your wall.

It was only a couple weeks ago that he was watching you from afar, accepting the fact that you were older and unobtainable with completely zero interest in partying or dating, and now he was sitting on your bed in silent anticipation.

“Enough with homework,” you announce, shutting your textbook for emphasis. 

Peter turns his attention back to you and smiles. You get up from your chair and stretch your arms over your head. You saunter over to him while Peter gazes at your naked legs. You stand in between his legs and wrap your arms around his neck.

“Hey you,” you coo through hooded eyes.

“Hey,” he breathes, tentatively wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer.

“How was your day?”

Peter shrugs, savoring the feeling of you in his arms. “It was alright, just school and patrolling.”

“School, huh? Where do you go?”

Peter silently admonishes himself for slipping. “I. . . you know I can’t tell you that.”

You laugh and shrug. “Fine fine, it was worth a shot though. So I assume you don’t want me going to your school to scope you out then?” You playfully squint your eyes at him.

“Do you think you could spot me?”

“Of course, you’re the one in the red and blue onesie,” you tease.

“Hey, it’s a tech suit, not a onesie!”

He pinches your hip, jolting your body closer to him as you giggle. 

“Okay okay, it’s not a onesie. But regardless, I’d like to think that I could. . . or would be able to spot you. I mean, I know your favorite color and that you have brown eyes so it can’t be that hard to narrow the search right?” you wink.

He laughs heartily. “Just start calling out brown eyes and I’ll come running.”

“Good! My brown eyed boyyyy,” you singsong.

He smiles, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek, lips lingering as you stop singing. You stroke the back of his head, eyes bore into his mask-covered eyes. “But seriously, if I find you, would you let me know?”

Peter hesitates before mumbling, “I—I don’t know.”

Your face falls a little bit, and you look away. “I understand,” you nod.

Peter’s chest tightens at your forlorn expression, the words at the tip of his tongue: “But you already know me, okay? I’m Peter Parker, the kid you catch staring at you sometimes? The one who avoids eye contact with you during academic decathlon practice? Yeah, that one.” 

But Peter swallows it back, convincing himself that it’ll be easier to just continue his rouse, pretending that you are simply two strangers that met by chance one autumn night in Queens. 

He licks his lips. “If you find me, I’ll let you know.”

You look up and tilt your head. “How?”

“Well, I’ll just give you a big fat kiss,” he grins, puckering his lips in exaggeration.

The corners of your eyes crinkle. “You’re just gonna run up to me and kiss me?”

“Yup, just like this,” he responds, holding you tightly and peppering kisses all over your face, from your cheeks to your chin to the tip of your nose.

“Stop it,” you giggle, placing a hand on his chest to push him away.

He stops and rubs his nose against your cheek, inhaling the faint scent of vanilla and lavender.

“Promise?”

"I promise,” he murmurs.

You turn your head and press your lips against his—the kiss soft and undemanding. He pulls you in closer as his tongue slides against yours. He runs his hands down your spine, and your body shivers at the sensation. You pull your lips away and trail kisses along his jaw down to his neck. He groans as you stroke his length over his suit. 

“I can grab my scarf,” you pant.

He shakes his head. “No, I—I want to watch this time.”

You pull away slightly and cock your head. “Watch what?” 

“I want to watch you,” he whines. “I want to watch you finish what you started the first night we met.”

Your pupils flare. “Okay,” you breathe, face flushed. You slide your hands down to the hem of your shirt, grasping it tightly before pulling it over your head, letting it slip from your hands onto the floor. 

His eyes roam over your bra and panties covering your most intimate parts, suit feeling tight around his dick. He cups your covered breast, massaging you through the fabric. You tip your head back and moan as his other hand brushes over the strap of your bra, pushing it down your arm. He places a gentle kiss on your shoulder.

“Are you ready?”

You nod in response. Peter scoots back on your bed and leans against your pillows. He motions for you to sit in between his legs, and you quickly comply—crawling onto your bed, eyes burning with need. You sit in front of him, pressing your back against his chest as he encircles his thick arms around your middle. He kisses the side your neck.

“No pressure, okay?”

“I know.”

You close your eyes and breathe in deeply. You start to feel your way down your body, smoothing your hands over the tops of your breasts and stomach. 

His eyes widen. “More,” he breathes, hot and soft near the shell of your ear.

You trace your fingertips over the outside of your underwear, your wetness creating a visible outline of your folds. You message your clit through the damp fabric, moaning from the friction. Peter gulps, cock pulsing as he watches your fingers move in quick circles.

“Feels so good,” you whimper.

You finally bring your fingers to the waistband of your panties, slowly pushing your hand inside to directly pet your clit.

“Please, I want to see,” Peter chokes out.

You obediently remove your hand, hooking your fingers underneath the waistband to slide them down your legs, kicking them to the edge of the bed with your feet. Your legs instinctively widen, his eyes peering down to gape at your naked heat.

“Better?”

“Much.”

You play with the lips of your pussy, teasing your center as you bite your lip. You dip your fingers inside, stopping right below the knuckle as you start to moan softly. You stroke your fingers in and out, buck your hips a bit at the contact, your fingers twisting your sheets in you tight grip.

“You’re so beautiful,” Peter whispers.

Peter runs his glove-covered hand up and down your hip, and you shiver at his touch. You bring your other hand over over your clit, rubbing and pressing it to increase the mounting pressure building inside of you.

“How does it feel?” he asks.

“So good,” you moan, your breath hitching as you hit a particularly sensitive spot, your fingers increasing speed and intensity. You grind your hips against your hand, continually slipping your fingers in and out.

“Are you close?” he whispers.

You nod your head quickly. “I’m right there,” you pant, bedroom filling with the sounds of squelching skin as your movements become more erratic.

“Oh, I—I’m cumming,” you chant, body tensing and toes curling.

You tilt your head back to cry out but Peter quickly grabs your chin, pressing his lips against yours to stifle the loud moans from escaping your mouth. Your body shakes and writhes as your pussy clenches around your fingers. 

Your body goes limp in his arms, your fingers slipping from inside as you ride out your high. Peter closes his eyes, trying to calm his hardened cock.

“How was that?”

“Pretty fucking amazing,” you breathe, turning your head to kiss him as he gently cups your face in his hand. 

After a few moments, he pulls away and reaches down to hold your hand. “I really like you.”

“You do?”

Peter hums in response, his head nodding.

“I really like you too, but I don’t—”

“What’s wrong?”

You look down at your entwined hands. “What is this exactly? I mean, what are we? I know we barely know each other, but I also haven’t done this with anyone before and diseases are a thing so I just want to know what this is.”

“I don’t know.”

You sigh heavily before looking up, your eyes boring into his. “I don’t want to be with anyone else.”

“I don’t want to be either.”

“Are you?”

Peter quickly shakes his head. “No, not at all. It’s only you.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he breathes, kissing your cheek softly. 

Peter lets the conversation settle over you as you sit in silence together, the sound of your combined breathing filling the room. You immediately straighten in his arms at the sound of the floorboards creaking outside your bedroom down the hallway.

“I think someone’s awake,” you whisper, voice filled with panic. You untangle yourself from his arms, scrambling to grab your shirt off the floor to slip it back over you. 

Peter swiftly swings his legs over the side of the bed, eyes darting over it, as images of you wanton and gasping just moments before are permanently seared in his brain.

“I wish you could stay.”

Peter turns to you, watching as you play with the hem of your shirt.

“Me too,” he whispers, standing up to head toward the window. As his fingers grasp the edge, you brush your hand against his other hand.

“When will I see you again?”

“Soon,” he responds, squeezing your hand lightly.

You nod in understanding. “Goodnight, Spidey.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

Peter reaches over and strokes your hair, watching you close your eyes, relishing his touch. He reluctantly pulls his hand away, quietly opening the window to climb out onto the edge. He takes one last look at you before pulling his mask over the rest of his face and swinging out into the night.

—

It’s the next day that Peter thinks that fate is trying to punish him for all his secrecy and indiscretions. He’s propping his head up with his hand, trying to stay awake when he hears a voice next to him shake him out of his stupor.

“Is anyone sitting here?”

Peter blinks before looking up from his sketchbook. He feels his heart pound at the sight of you standing in front of him, your head nodding to the empty seat beside him. You’re smiling at his politely, and Peter mentally slaps away the mental image of you naked from his mind.

“Um. . . no. . . wait, yes. . . I mean, someone usually sits here but they’re not here right now so technically no one is sitting here,” he stammers, inwardly wincing at his blatant awkwardness.

“Oh okay, it’s just that someone took my usual seat—”

“It’s all yours,” he blurts.

You smile in relief. “Thanks,” you nod, slipping into the seat next to him. You flash him another smile, and Peter can’t help but melt a little in his chair. Mrs. Randall calls the attention of the class, and you quickly turn your face forward.

Get it together, he thinks, you were just with her last night. 

But that was Spider-Man, and here at Midtown, he was just Peter Parker. He wasn’t the guy all the  girls crushed on. He’s been the scrawny science nerd since elementary school, and even though he was now a superhero and practically an Avenger, he couldn’t abandon the persona that everyone thought him to be.

“Today is a free day to sketch whatever you want,” Mrs. Randall announces, “but don’t just doodle, okay? I’ll be collecting your work after class.”

The class collectively groans. Peter glances over at you, watching you open up your sketchbook to a blank page. 

He looks down and starts absentmindedly sketching. After a few moments, he glances over again at you, his eyes lingering on your face, your brows furrowed and lips pursed. He continues gazing at you as your eyes roam around the room, drifting over the containers of art supplies sitting on the shelves to the finished art hanging on the walls to a perfectly arranged bowl of fruit balanced on a stool near the front of the room. Your eyes finally land on something that he can’t visibly spot, but the corner of your mouth quirks up. You look back down at the blank paper in front of you and begin to sketch.  

Peter turns his attention back down to his drawing, hunching over in his seat and mentally restraining himself from looking at you for the rest of class.

As time passes, Peter loses a bit of self-control, stealing another glance over at you. Similar to last night, you’re deep in concentration. His eyes look down at your sketch, the corner of his crinkling as he realizes you’re drawing a vase of daisies.

Before he loses his nerve, Peter clears his throat. “You’re really good.”

You look up, your brow raised. “Excuse me?”

“At drawing, I mean.”

Your face softens as you quickly glance down at your sketch. “Oh thank you. I really appreciate that, although I feel like I’m straddling the line between doodling and serious art.”

“Doodling is its own art form, you know.”

You laugh softly as Peter gives you a lopsided grin.

“You’re right. I’d like to think so too.”

“I don’t know if you know who I am but I’m—”

“Peter Parker,” you smile. “I’ve known who are since elementary school. We’ve had a few classes together, we have the same lunch period, and you’re also on my academic decathlon practice roster, even though you haven’t really shown up lately.”

“Right,” he blushes.

“You’re really good too.”

He stares at you blankly, and you chuckle. “With your drawing,” you continue. “Is that your mom?”

“No, it’s my aunt.”

“That’s sweet. Are you going to give it to her?”

Peter shakes his head. “No way, she’ll freak out and want to frame it and then she’ll want more and I’m not ready for that commitment. Sorry, I’m rambling.”

“No apologies necessary.”

Peter can’t help but swoon like a lovesick puppy.

You go back to your drawing, adamant on finishing it before the period ends. After class, you and Peter silently pack up your belongings.

“Are you going to practice today?”

Peter rubs the back of his neck. “I would, but I—”

“Busy? I know the feeling.”

“The team could really use you though,” you continue, slinging your backpack over your shoulder as you walk out of the classroom and into the hallway.

“It’s been tough with the Stark Internship.”

“Oh right. You’re honestly one of the luckiest people I’ve ever met. I mean, you get to hang with Tony Stark almost every day after school.”

Peter chuckles uncomfortably. If you only knew, he thinks.

“Well, we’ll miss you at practice this afternoon, but I understand. See you around, Peter Parker.”

Peter’s shoulder slump as you turn to walk away. You take one step forward before pausing, face beaming as you turn to face him again. “I actually have an idea if you’re willing to listen.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Well, if you can’t be on the team then why don’t you help me prep the team? I just need help for like one day out of the week. It’s less commitment, but you’re still helping the cause.”

“Gee, Y/N. . . I don’t really—”

“If I’m being honest, Peter. You’d be doing me a huge favor, I could really use the help.”

You tilt your head, eyes gleaming. Peter can’t stop the instant onslaught of mental images popping up in his mind, from you blindfolded to your hand dipping low into your underwear, the look of ecstasy on your face as you cum. He thinks about stroking his hands up and down your body, and—

“Peter?”

He blinks, face flushed as you throttle him out of his thoughts, quickly pushing away any semblance of dirty thoughts and images into the recesses of his mind.

“You know what, I would love to help.”

Peter inwardly winces, knowing he’s doomed.

“Really? You’re a lifesaver! Just send me your schedule so we can coordinate. Here’s my number.” You grab his hand to jot it down on his palm. Your hand lingers on his for a moment before looking up at him with pursed lips.

He raises his brows. “What?”

You shake your head and let go of his hand. “It’s nothing. See you around, Peter Parker.”

And with that, you turn and hurry down the hallway. Peter sighs heavily. He knows he’s fucking screwed.

Tag list: @thatpeterparkerfan / @professionalphangirluniverse / @julimelodi / @sighharrington / @merelymarianne / @soloseb / @superspideyy / @babyjesuscat / @stardust-ghost / @oh-annaa / @iloveyouironman / @nyeddleblog / @bloominess / @itsjust-evalyn / @shawnmendes-thewriter / @cotton-octopus / @ghostofdrfluke / @imofficiallyobsessed / @charismas-world

[purplesurveys]

1120

[created by: vyvyan86]

What do you do for work? I work at a public relations agency, so I handle servicing for a good number of clients across different industries. PR is basically like the extroverted sibling of journalism; and since I turned out to not enjoy journ, I gave PR a try halfway through my time in college and ended up liking it more.

What would you ideally like to do for work? I actually really enjoy what I do, like getting to work directly with big local and even international brands. I’m glad I made the decision to make the career shift because I can’t imagine how miserable I would be in a newsroom.

What are you doing in order to achieve this? I’m already where I want to be, at least for now. I don’t see it changing any time soon because I’m nowhere near tired of the work yet.

What is the meaning of your life? What is it that you really live for? Erm I don’t really try to define it or have an answer to this right away because I feel like it puts a lot of unwanted pressure on me, by me. As long as I’m satisfied in the present, I shouldn’t be worrying for whom or what my life is ultimately supposed to be.

Have you ever REALLY thought what it means to have children? Yup. Having kids would be the perfect life, but realistically speaking I am not at all ready to start that particular chapter. I don’t make enough money to be able to build a family, and I’ve never even tried changing a diaper yet...then you have to think about weekly formulas, what school to enroll them in, building a nursery...it’s all very hectic and stressful and it’s definitely not a priority as of the moment.

Are you planning to have children anyway? It would be nice, but I still don’t know if it’s in my future.

What is the most awful thing about the world today? I doooooooooon’t understand racism. It’s those videos of white people being caught on tape harassing POCs without a care in the world that get to me the most. It’s horrifying and it’s made me have close to zero plans to travel to the places where the videos usually come from. It’s happened too many times and too many clips have gone viral, that I can’t help but think it would happen to me and my family as well. What do you think is the worst being on the planet? Abusive and/or neglectful parents.

Have you ever been arrested? If so, what for? Nopes.

Have you ever been in court? If so, in which role? Definitely not.

Which do you think is a more valuable being, a human or an animal? I don’t think it’s fair to compare. A life is a life.

What, in your opinion, will cause the end of the world? I’m gonna let science answer this and refer to whatever predictions they have for the future based on their calculations. 

What does your mother do for work? She works in an international hotel chain as an executive secretary, but work is actually kind of slippery for her at the moment because of Covid. There are only certain days in the week where she’s called in to report for work, and there is a chance those requests will stop coming in at a certain point.

^If she's a homemaker, any specific reason for this? She’s not anymore but she did enjoy a brief period of being a homemaker after resigning from her previous workplace back in likeeeee 2013 I’d say? which according to her had increasingly turned into a toxic environment after 20+ years of working there.

What about your father? What does he do? He is an executive sous chef. Cruise ship industry, so his situation is also actually quite bleak. Fortunately the job security with his company is a lot stronger and more guaranteed.

How do you like your coffee? I like it sweet and for its color to be light brown.

If you're of age, what's your favorite alcoholic drink? Tequila shots if we’re going hard. Long Island Iced Tea or Zombie if I’m looking to have a chill session with friends. Red Horse is fine as well, whatever. I hate beer with a passion but I’d drink it if everyone in the table is having a bottle.

If you're under-aged, what is your favorite soft drink? Bold of you to assume all minors like soda hahaha. I don’t, though.

Do you smoke? Yeah, just super seldom though because I don’t want to form a habit. I had the opportunity to last Friday but voluntarily skipped out on it, but that was also because I already had a vape pen on me.

^If so, did you start when you were 18 or were you younger? My first cigarette was when I was 21. Start of 2020.

Did your parents approve of your smoking/alcohol use before you turned 18? They wouldn’t have approved of it at all. And I wouldn’t have let myself either.

Do you have siblings? If not, skip the next few questions. Yeup.

Are you eldest, in the middle or youngest? I’m the eldest of two siblings.

How big an age gap is between you and your siblings? With my sister, 2 years. With my brother, 5 years.

Do/did your siblings cause trouble? Not at all, actually. We were all well-behaved, aka the three of us were always too shy to do anything bad or mischevious. I guess the biggest issues with each of us were - I was very messy with my stuff and ignored all my homework; Nina was a crybaby and would get into tears over literally any inconvenience; and my brother was a violent crybaby, which means he is Nina but always ready to punch you in the face, kick you in the neck or stomach, scream into your ear, etc.

If your siblings are old enough, what do they do for work? My sister is taking up digital filmmaking in an art school; my brother is only in his junior year of high school.

Have you ever been jealous of your siblings? I’m not jealous of her, but Nina is amazing at art and drawing and painting and all that stuff and I always wish I shared even like 1/98th of her skills, hahah.

Do you still live with your parent/s or do you live alone/with a partner? I live with my family, yeah. I’m nowhere near ready to start being on my own.

What do you think about growing up? Like what Paramore said (heheh), has to happen sometimes.

What about having responsibilities? I don’t really think anything of them? They’re kind of expected.

Do you know how to cook? Nope.

^If so, what's your favorite thing to cook? I don’t know how to make anything yet, but some dishes I would love to be able to master are risotto and paella. I’d also love to inherit my grandma’s kare-kare recipe but I’m already 300% sure from this early that I’ll never be able to make it as good as she does.

What about baking? I also can’t bake but some stuff I’d want to learn how to make are cupcakes, macarons, cheesecake, and a chocolate chip cookie recipe so good that my kids would literally bring their friends over to our house just to make them try it.

Do you ever drink tea? Iced tea for the most part. If I do ever drink the traditional hot tea, it’s usually because it’s served either at a hotel I’m staying at, or at an Asian restaurant.

Have you ever followed any of these fad diets that go around? I don’t follow a diet. I’m usually open to trying out foods that are packaged to fall under a certain diet, though – paleo, keto, etc. - just to experience how much different it could possibly taste from the food I typically have.

What do you usually order at your favorite restaurant? I usually get rosu, a type of tonkatsu cut that has a lining of fat on its side. My favorite restaurant then provides unlimited rice, miso soup, and cabbage with my order.

Do you prefer a proper restaurant to a fast food place? Not necessarily. I love a lot of either.

What's your dream vehicle? A Mini Countryman.

What about your dream house? I don’t have an exact image of it yet, but I always said that my dream house, wherever and whatever it might be, must have a room for all the wrestling memorabilia I plan to collect in the future. It’ll be like a ~mancave~  as I also plan to have a couch and a big TV in it so I can watch documentaries and pay-per-views there.

What is the biggest dream of your life? Right now, I would say the ‘biggest’ - since I’ve established it since I was a kid - is to go to the 50th installment of Wrestlemania, which is like the Superbowl of wrestling. This year it’ll be the 37th, so I have 13 years left to plan the dream out and save up and stuff.

If you could travel to another country right now, where would you go? Morocco.

What is a country you'd never ever visit? There isn’t a country I wouldn’t want to visit at least once. I’d probably avoid the ones that have dangerous political situations or are literally at war at the moment, but it doesn’t mean I don’t ever want to step foot in them.

Are you good at taking care of your finances? I’m getting there! I was able to have a good amount of savings this month :) My finances were shit for the first two months of my job because there was immediately soooooooo much to pay for, but I’m glad everything is on track now.

Have you ever had any trouble paying your bills? Well no, because I don’t pay my own yet. I do hand a portion of my allowance to my parents every payday so that I can help out with the family bills, though.

What about your rent? We don’t have rent.

What do you think is the best thing about being an adult? The freedom that comes with it is very empowering. I don’t technically have to ask permission to go out with friends anymore, or be scared of a curfew (but my mom still imposes one, LOL. It’ll mellow it within time though, I’m sure); I make my own money and can spend it however way I want while the rest I can save; I can take a drive or book an entire trip altogether as long as I can afford it...it’s letting me get to know myself even more, in a way that college and my teenage years weren’t able to do.

What about the worst? Being expected to have my shit together when I’m very clueless still about so many things in life. I make fuckups at work at least once a week and I always feel like I’m going to get fired with every mistake, lol.

Is there a person in your life, who wastes their life somehow? Hmm, I don’t think so. I have an uncle who had seemed to be headed nowhere before, but I think he’s slowly getting back on track. I think. At least I don’t hear anything about him anymore.

^If so, how are they wasting their life? Never had a stable job, was a neglectful husband and father (I think he still is), was never able to secure a house and even a car for his family, and deals with his problems by drinking...and worse, drunk-driving, sometimes. It’s an embarrassment and I don’t care if my grandma tells me off for giving him the cold shoulder every family gathering. I’m not gonna get close to someone who negatively affects my mood and my energy.

What is something you need to do, but you keep postponing it? Getting a new pair of glasses. Booking an appointment is a Newly-Unlocked Adult Thing that I’ve never done yet, so I’m nervous and I keep putting it off, hahaha.

Do you think life should just hand things to you? Not at all.

Or should you earn the things you want and need with hard work? Yeah, there you go.

Would you rather live off government benefits or earn your own money? Earn on my own, as much as possible. But some balance would be nice as well so that I can start feeling as if the government is actually helping and serving me.

When you take a survey, do you skip questions? Typically, no. But some of the older ones I’ve seen made by, like, 15 year olds of the time will have nonsense, downright immature, or lowkey racist/homophobic questions that I will have no problem deleting altogether as I think no one here would have any interest in answering them either.

Why, do you think, people write lyrics as the title for a survey? To be creative and catchy, I guess. And it works - I do tend to click on surveys that use lyrics.

If you have a Facebook, what do you use it for? Look for things to share, mainly. I’m fully back on it now after going a way for a bit to do some healing on my own.

If you have a Twitter, what do you use it for? As a space to let out literally all my thoughts and brianfarts. No one cares on Twitter, so it’s the perfect space to make a mess and be a mess.

If you have a Tumblr, what do you use it for? I used to have a wrestling-themed Tumblr (and before that, many more other themed Tumblrs), but when my interest died down I soon switched to using Tumblr for my surveys and being more lowkey altogether on here.

If you have an iPhone, why? I find it easier to use, and I like the interface more. The camera’s features are also more to my liking.

If you have an iPad, why? We have a really old model of it, and we bought that because iPads were all the rage at the time. It had been the newest concept from Apple and most people felt they had to have one, including my family. We definitely don’t feel the need to get another tablet anytime soon since it just functions like a giant phone for the most part.

If you have the latest electronic gadgets, did you pay for them yourself? I’ve never paid for a gadget before.

Do you always put your litter in a trashcan? Of course. I know how to pick up after myself like a respectful human. < Yup.

When you walk/ride your bike/drive your car, are you careful? Yeah, unless I’m mad. Sometimes road rage will take over me tbh, especially if other people on the road have been stupid for quite some time.

What is the rudest thing a person could do or say to you? Something phobic after seeing Jess and I together. < This reminds me of when my ex and I used to get stares or whispers in public. But to be honest, I actually enjoyed those encounters because it only served as fuel for me to get even more affectionate and piss them off more, lol. Good times. 

Anyway, the rudest thing I can think of at the moment is being cut while in line. Some people do it so subtly too, and their shy, careful shuffle to get in front of me is what irritates me the most because THEY KNOW they’re doing something shitty and yet are being so sneaky about it.

Have you ever been that rude to someone else? I have never cut in line, never will.

Do you think your parents are proud of you and what you do with your life? I don’t know. I hope so. I don’t know if they’re expecting me to move out at this point, but I hope they’re at least proud of the fact that their first kid managed to land a job, especially considering we’re living in Covid times.

Which would you rather be, famous or a "nobody"? Why? Can’t I be somewhere in between? When it boils down to it, I’d probably go with being a nobody...I’d miss the socialization and having friends, but at least it means I can get away with more.

Do you need to have the latest fashion in clothes and accessories? It would be nice, but I’m not desperate to have them.

If you have a job, do you get along with your co-workers? Yeah, I’d say so. I definitely have never fought with anyone yet. It’s hard to gauge my relationship with each of them because I entered the workplace while we’re under WFH so I’ve only gotten to talk to most of them through Viber; but so far, so good.

What kind of hobbies do you have? I like traveling and learning, so anything that’s got to do with those - going to museums, visiting ancestral houses, trying local art forms - I would definitely dive into. But if I’m not in a new province or country altogether, I like trying out new food and new restaurants, embroidering, watching my favorite shows, coloring, painting, and reading essays about history. :)

Would anything in the whole world make you give up any of those hobbies? I’m not super attached to painting anymore, so I guess.

Have you had/do you have any pets? I currently have two dogs. In the past we’ve had a cat, a rabbit, two birds, and several goldfish.

Do you even like animals? I love them, except insects.

If you aren't already, would you ever get married? It would be a nice thing to tick off my life event list.

If you are already married, what was the ultimate reason for the marriage? -

As a child, did you do anything really bad? I was raised in a highly violent household with the worst influences as my elders. Yes, I managed to squeeze in some horrible stuff when no one was looking.

^If so, what was it? What were the consequences? I was violent towards my brother but won’t get into it. The only thing I’ll mention is that I used to chase him around with a knife whenever he’d start becoming too much of a headache.

As a teenager, did you do anything really bad? I don’t think so. I was well-traumatized and abused by the time I was a teenager so I was afraid of fucking anything up and being in more trouble.

^If so, what was it? What were the consequences? The worst thing I did was lie about my performance in school, honestly. Which, looking back now, doesn’t even seem like a big deal considering I was only in high school then and grades from there barely matter.

Do you have a problem with authority? Nope. Well, a good number of my teachers didn’t seem to like me for some reason. I’d say it’s their problem though since I never did anything to raise hell in school, ever.

What's your favorite comic strip? I don’t have one.

Is there a piece of clothing you absolutely must wear every day Underwear... < Yep.

Has a doctor ever told you to lose weight? No. I’ve always been on the lighter side so that has never been a comment given to me by anyone.

Have you ever been diagnosed with a lifelong disease? Isn’t scoliosis a lifelong thing? If it is, then yes I have been.

What is something you absolutely hate? Fruits.

What about something you absolutely love? Seafood! Which is why I have spicy tuna salad and dynamite rolls with me at the moment :)

[intjmd]

Types of INTP

As many of you may have noticed, INTPs come in different flavors. Some of my closest friends are INTPs, and I have noticed some differences between them that I have not spotted in other types (ENFPs seem more homogeneous to me, I know a bunch and they have basically the same values, outlooks on life and even similar (or the same) interests). In consequence, I have decided to classify my beloved INTP to see if we can understand this better (or even arrive to the conclusion that some of my friends are mistyped). After thinking for a while, I have decided to keep it simple and describe only two different types or INTPs. I know it’s not enough, but I don’t have all the information that I would need to make an accurate description of other subtypes of INTPs (I think there might be at least another one). Feel free to comment, add or correct anything you may find here. Let’s go.

INTP 1 - AKA Chill INTP :

Looks/vibes:

This INTP looks like the most carefree person alive. Seriously. They are often cute and definitely have their style. Why do they say that INTP have a horrible fashion sense, then? Well, it’s just that their style is not the conventional style. They can be obsessed with certain parts of their bodies (e.g. perfect nails) and completely neglect others. Or they can aspire to look in a certain way (kawaii, really kawaii) that could look inappropriate in someone their age. They don’t care. They dress as they want, ignoring other wishes and advice. And sometimes it works out. 

In general, they look rather sociable and happy. Try approaching them and you may be surprised. Sometimes, Chill looks even dreamy and you can tell they are fantasizing about having a dragon pet or whatever.

Habitat:

They dwell in their rooms and when they go out, they wish they were on their room. This type of INTP has watched more than 50 TV shows this last year, and probably reads a lot of fanfic. Their room is their sanctuary and is often filled with the interests of the owner, packed with action figures, tech, their clothes or maybe some painting that they did years ago and didn’t want to throw out.

Personality and interests:

Chill INTP is curious. He/She/That thing over there is an INTP after all. They remind me of  an ENFP (Ne here) because the way they talk about about their passions and dreams. To put it bluntly: they can’t talk about a single topic for more than five minutes before changing the subject to something different. They do this with a bubbly/excited look and act like everything is possible for them (but then they are “too lazy” for achieving said dreams) (this has literally been said by two of them so it’s not an insult). 

This Chill INTP loves series, fanfics, memes and the Internet as a concept. They have mastered every single shortcut of their computer and act like it’s part of their bodies.

Although Chill INTP looks approachable, they hate small talk and are very shy and private. Above all, they have trouble initiating conversations. If you befriend them, though, they will open up and flood you with an unending stream of ideas.

Academics: Chill is smarter than the average person, but also lazier than the average person. What’s worse, they know that they are smart and sometimes (only with their closest friends) can brag about it. While it’s true that they are bright and have no trouble understanding complex topics (actually the more abstract, the better), they lack motivation and often procrastinate. Sometimes, usually in hight school exams, they are able to successfully wing it and get good grades with almost zero effort. They will still whine a bit after getting an 8 in some subject that they didn’t even read, though. However, this “luck” (talent, actually, it’s raw intelligence plus a little bit of rhetorics and an innocent look) doesn’t last forever.

In the end, no matter how academically talented Chill may be, after missing a thousand classes and studying for maybe ten seconds, Chill fails. Hard. Usually for the first time in University. But it’s not that they can’t do it, it’s just that they don’t want to put in the effort right now. Maybe later.

Personal opinion:

This INTP is reaaaally fun to hang out with (I’m an INTJ, maybe we click because of that). They are witty, punny and can cheer you up with their innocence or random remarks. In addition, they get sarcasm (THANK YOU) and are not afraid of saying something regarded as “insensitive” if it’s true. This Chill INTP can be a bit stubborn, and will not change their behavior even if they admit it’s damaging them. 

Overall, they are nice and don’t ask for much attention.  

P.S: Chill INTP is NOT chill all the time. They can have breakdowns where all of their frustration gets out and they can cry in disappointment because the are not living up to their own standards. The agony disappears after a while, and they come back to their laptop and keep scrolling with a smile on their faces.

INTP 2 - AKA  NERDY INTP:

Looks/vibes:

Nerdy INTP does not care at all about how they look. It’s a practical question, not a fashion contest, and they are going to pick anything as long as it covers the parts of their body that can’t be publicly shown. The plainer, the better, this way they can combine anything in their wardrobes.

Also, this INTP does not look “chill” at all. It’s more like a quiet fragile serenity that could explode anytime. There is a difference there. Chill INTP is very comfortable anywhere, even in the midst of a crowd, they just do their own thing and ignore everyone. Nerdy INTP is watching over you, analyzing your patterns and thinking, always thinking. This INTP is full of anxiety and is shyer than chill INTP. And when they are looking at a wall they are either thinking hard about the wall itself (colour, texture, design) or totally lost inside some theory inside their mind. The thing is that you know that they are questioning things.

Habitat:

Their rooms, but with zero clutter. It’s not minimalism, it’s a prison cell with the occasional coffee machine. They have a laptop, books and a bed, but that’s all. This INTP lives in his head, not on Earth. That’s why they don’t mind going outside, but they do this to think elsewhere, not to be elsewhere. Their heads are a mystery, I would describe them if I could.

Personality and interests:

Nerdy is not merely curious, Nerdy is utterly obsessed with knowledge and the truth. This means that they can research a single topic for like 40 hours nonstop and speak about it too, getting deeper and deeper and finding internal contradictions between the different sources until you (random listener) can no longer know anything. But they really understand it, and it just comes easy for them. They can keep their concentration forever and ever until their body stops working and they get into a random nap. Then they jump to the topic again.

Nerdy likes talking about different subjects. Unlike Chill, once Nerdy chooses ONE topic, he will remain in that area until nothing more can be said (which is approximately never) or until the other person changes the topic. Nerdy also strongly prefers one to one conversations, while Chill can manage up to four/five people at the same time. 

In short, Nerdy seems much more focused and driven than Chill, but they are not natural achievers (#goalz #checklists) like an INTJ. Instead, they seek pure knowledge for the sake of it, to deepen their understanding of the world. They don’t need to change it, they just think that it’s interesting to dive into the most obscure and complex topics and master them. Their thirst is not for power but for wisdom.  

Nerdy is as Internet addicted as Chill but it’s easier to find them looking for papers than watching Netflix on their own. They have three or four series that they love but they are usually complex (picture high fantasy) and the things they read are not the cliché YA novels in which Chill tends to indulge more.

Academics:

If Nerdy has chosen a career that sparks his interests, he will do great in his knowledge field. At least, Nerdy will spend hours and hours reading about this topic and becoming an expert. They will understand EVERYTHING and create a sort of “mind map” in their minds (just a map, then) with concepts and their connections. Nerdy is a bit lazy too, but their curiosity and intellect alone if directed towards the adequate career can take them to the top (or at least they are not whining at the bottom as sometimes Chill does).

Even if both Chill and Nerdy feel incompetent, Chill actually puts 3/10 effort and ends up getting a 5. Nerdy studies a lot (maybe not the most important things, they will probably get lost in the interesting bits) and try to do their best. Even if their results are great, they will feel as if they had failed because they are too perfectionistic. 

To sum up, they work harder and get more results than Chill, but also set higher standards for themselves, which leads them to often overexert themselves and have higher levels of anxiety. This is why they do nOT look so chill.

Personal opinion:

For me, Nerdy feels like a caffeinated, stronger, sharper version of Chill. Maybe a little more hopeless and cynic, maybe more concerned with astrophysics than the newest One Piece episode. If Chill was fun, Nerdy is a hundred times funnier. However, Nerdy is also incapable of small talk (Chill knows how to, he just doesn’t want to do it and tries to avoid it) and has more trouble meeting new people. This INTP is only capable of speaking logically, and will destroy you incoherent arguments in seconds (yeah, every conversation feels like a debate). If you show any weakness, they will show no mercy.  This side of them can bore or get tiresome for the more dictatorial (Nerdy will call out your bullshit, authority means nothing), harmony loving (debates are just debates, no feelings involved) (however, if you think that disagreeing equals hating each other, you are so fucked here) or happy-go-lucky (”Don’t think and be happy”) types. 

If you are not ready to do some mental exercise, then leave alone Nerdy and go back to Instagram. If you go, try to chatter with Nerdy and then disregard all his ideas/hypothesis/arguments and it gets upset, you are a mere asshole. I actually love Nerdy INTP and think that his brain should be protected as World Heritage.

Things both (I think all INTP) subtypes have in common:

Curiosity about the most random things.

They hate small talk and initiating conversations.

They are so much fun for an INTJ.

They can be very insensitive when talking to other people (not a big bother for an NT)

All energy is redirected to their heads, their bodies are nOT fully operative.

They are always up for: COFFEEE, films or going to a new restaurant. 

People love them and they don’t want to admit it.

They feel different but never complain about it (and never flaunt it as a virtue).

They have meltdowns and they saw them coming.

They love the Internet.

Kinky. Very specific kinks and you can’t kinkshame them. It’s better to join them.

They look innocent, like sweet cinnamon rolls but they are not.

P.S:

Maybe these two types are not well described and some of you think that Chill is just more well, relaxed Nerdy. Or that Nerdy has more willpower than Chill. I don’t know. I honestly think that both have different manifestations of the INTP functions and they are true INTP regardless of their differences. I also think that both are fun, smart and can become great friends. 

P.S2:

@intp-the-thinker​ @intpmd this is for both of you, feel free to abort this unborn theory/hypothesis.

[13-reasons-ideas]

It was Just A Project Part 1

A/N this idea has been bouncing around in my head for a while and I've finally been able to finish the first part. I hope you guys like it! 

My morning started off as it usually did now that the boys had moved out to the garage. I woke up early and had a wonderfully hot shower before Clay and Justin woke up. After I finished my shower and got ready, I went downstairs to have breakfast. Dad was in the kitchen making lunch for us, as was tradition on Fridays, “Morning Dad. Is there coffee left?”

“Morning pumpkin. Fresh off the filter. Your bagels are in the toaster oven.”

“Thank you. Don’t worry about lunch for me. I’m having lunch with Zach and Alex today, so I’ll just grab something at school.”

“Sure thing.”

As I sat down to enjoy my breakfast, Justin came stumbling in the kitchen to shower. He grunted at us before making his way upstairs. Clay came trudging in not long after and took a bite of my bagel. “Hey, I was eating that.” I complained. Clay simply shrugged at me. “Daaaadddd, Clay ate my bagel.”

“Clay, stop bothering your sister.” Dad chided, not looking up from his paper. I stuck my tongue out at him teasingly. He rolled his eyes and went to the cupboard for some cereal. Justin came downstairs a couple of minutes later and poured himself a cup of coffee, “morning guys. Shower’s yours Clay.” Clay scarfed down his cereal- the boy is going to make himself sick one of these days…- before running upstairs.

It was quiet while we ate for a moment until we heard a girlish scream and Clay shout “Rachel!”. Justin and I looked at each other and burst out laughing.

I looked at the microwave and my eyes widened in shock “oh shit. I totally forgot I’m meeting Scott this morning to study for our biology test. Justin, you want to ride with me or Clay?”

He gulped down the last of his coffee and jumped up, “sure, I’ll just grab my bag.” I nodded and went to the stairs.

“Clay, Justin is getting a ride with me today. We’re leaving now.” I called upstairs.

“Okay.” Clay called back. Justin met me at the car, and I sent Scott a quick text. Hey, running a little late today sorry. I’ll be there in 15. He responded with a thumbs up and Justin and I were off.

When we arrived at school the parking lot was mostly empty. I ran off to meet Scott and Justin went to go find Jess. I saw Scott hanging out with some guys from the baseball team, with his back turned to me. I put my finger up to my mouth and quietly walked up behind him. When I reached him, I jumped up on his back, “Guess who?”

Scott immediately put his hands around my thighs so he was hanging on to me, “is it a certain less annoying twin who’s running late?”

“Maybe. Though it depends who you ask which of us is less annoying.” I jumped down and adjusted my top, “you ready to get fucked by the bio test too?”

“But of course. Mrs. Jackson is the worst.”

“Oh please, you’ll get like 95% and still argue that your grade should be higher.” Zach teased.

“I’d love to agree with you, but this woman is the devil incarnate with tests. We teach ourselves this class because she reads off slides and then she tests us on stuff that’s not even in the slides or the book. I’m probably going to fail. And since I need this class to get into USC, I actually need to pass. You coming Scott?” He nodded and we bid his friends goodbye.

After studying with Scott until the bell, we walked to biology together and took our seats. I was right, the test was ridiculous. Scott finished first and waited for me outside the room. “Could have at least bought me a coffee first.” I joked as I left the God forsaken classroom. He laughed and shook his head.

“I would have requested a four-course steak dinner. I feel dirty. I opened the book and wanted to walk out. We didn’t learn half of that material.”

“At least you can shower before lunch. You have a free period. I have to go do history.”

“Could skip and go shower with me….” he teased.

“Yeah. I’d rather take that test again.”

I sighed as I walked into history. The class wasn’t full yet thankfully. I groaned as I lowered myself into my seat in the back, next to Monty.

“Rough morning?” he asked.

“You have no idea.” I grumbled. “We had a bio test today. I feel dirty.”

He chuckled. “That bad?”

“Two people walked out in five minutes.”

He whistled but before he could say anything more, Mr. Smith walked in. He was a younger teacher, so he was generally well liked by students.  

“Good morning. We will be starting work on term projects today.” The class groaned in unison. “You will be split into pairs of my choosing.” The class groaned even louder and I put my head down on my desk.

“Fucking kill me now.” I grumbled. Monty must have heard me because he started having a coughing fit.

Mr. Smith began listing off pairs, some of which were met with groans and some with quiet ‘yes’es. “Rachel Jensen and… Montgomery De La Cruz.”

It could be worse. At least he’s not a total idiot. He’s nice enough to me. I turned my head to look at him and he smiled at me.

After all of us were paired up, he gave us a few minutes to make plans for starting the project. “Did you want to come to my place after school and we can get started?” I asked.

“Sure.”

We didn’t have time to iron out anything but we traded numbers and agreed that we would both pull our weights.

As he handed out topic sheets he explained the assignment, “we will be doing this paper a little differently than you may be used to. You will need to write a paper with proper formatting and supporting diagrams and graphs where applicable. We will go over citation in a later class. Most of you are graduating this year and will need to use proper citation come September, lest you risk expulsion from your chosen school. Think of this paper as a trial run of what you will be expected to do in university. It is something I wish my teachers in high school had done to prepare us a little better. We will discuss the paper in more detail over the next few classes, after everyone has a chance to choose a topic. I urge you to pick different topics as I don’t want to read thirty papers on the same idea. If you are unsure about what to choose, please see or email me after class.” With that, he began our discussion for the day.

When class was dismissed, I went to meet Alex and Zach for lunch.

“Rachel.” Justin called after me. He ran to catch up to me.

“Hey bro, what’s up?”

“I picked up a shift tonight. Can I get the keys?”

“What about Clay’s keys?”

“He has an appointment after school.”

“Fine. If I must.” I joked, as though it was a hassle, as I dug around my bag for the keys. I chucked my keys to him and he ran off.

Alex was waiting for me at the cafeteria. “Hey. How was your test?”

“Ugh. You don’t want to know.”

“This is why I switched to chemistry, no Mrs. Jackson.”

“Hmmmm.” I muttered as I grabbed my phone. I texted Monty as we walked to our table. Hey, is it okay if I get a ride home? Justin needed my car and Clay is busy after school. He replied quickly, sure thing. I parked by the gym.

“Who you texting Rach?” Zach asked as Alex and I sat down.

“Monty. We got paired up for a paper in history.”

“Ew. He’ll probably make you do the whole thing yourself.” Alex commented.

“I don’t think so. We made plans after school to work on it. And he’s not dumb enough to think I wouldn’t go straight to Mr. Smith and stick him with a zero.”

“You say that now….” Alex trailed off as I glared at him.

The subject was dropped after that and the rest of lunch went on as normal.

I met Monty at his Jeep after school and we drove in a slightly awkward silence for a time, the only discussion being the odd direction to my house. He broke the tension first, “You know this is probably going to be a nightmare right? Your brother hates me. Justin barely puts up with me at football practice.”

“It will be fine. My dad works at home so he will be home and keep the annoying duo in line.”

“Alright. You’re wrong but alright.”

I shook my head at him, smirking, “so, I feel like I know nothing about you. We’ve gone to school together since we were little.”

“What can I say? I’m a man of mystery.”

“You can tell me what your favourite ice cream flavour is?”

“Mint chip. Yours?”

“Chocolate chocolate chip. It’ll be a left here.” I directed. We went on like that, asking each other menial questions for the remainder of the drive.

“It’s the one in the middle here. You can park in the drive or on the street, up to you.”

He pulled up to the curb and sat for a minute, quiet again as he cut the engine. He sat for a minute before undoing his seatbelt. I got out of the car and waited for him. When he didn’t make a move to get out, I walked around to his door, “we don’t bite you know. Unless you’re into that.” I joked. If it works on Scott, maybe it’ll work on his best friend.

Monty laughed and joked back, “Depends who’s doing the biting. Being bitten by strangers doesn’t rank very high up on the list though.” With that, he got out of the car.

His nerves must have returned “You know I’m right. They don’t like me. And since Justin is basically your brother now, his opinion actually matters. How well do you think this is going to go?”

I rolled my eyes at him playfully as I unlocked the front door. “Monty chill. It’s a project for school. Besides, the boys live in the shed and they showered this morning. You probably won’t even see them.” I said as I took off my coat and hung it up. I heard footsteps coming down the stairs and dad cleared his throat.

“Hey pumpkin. How was sch- oh. Hello there. Rachel, I didn’t realize you were having a friend over.”

“Hey dad. School was fine. This is Monty, we got assigned to work on a history assignment together. Monty, this is my dad Matt.” I gestured between them briefly.

Monty waved politely, though it was rather awkward. “Hello Mr. Jensen.”

Dad merely nodded at him.

“Anyway, we have a lot of work to do so we’ll be upstairs. Come on Monty.”

“Not so fast Rachel. You know the rules. No boys in your room without permission.”

I stopped in my tracks abruptly, causing Monty to bump into me. He looked uncomfortable when I turned to look at my dad.

“Oh. The rules. Right. Okay, let me see if I have this straight… Clay and Justin get the garage converted into a bachelor pad minus a shower with no supervision at all. I don’t even get my own bathroom out of the deal. The boys can do whatever they want in there and they can have whoever they want over whenever they want -boys or girls at any time of the day- without discussing it. But I, a girl, can’t have a boy in my room to work on a homework assignment. How is that fair? Because… Why exactly? Even if I wanted to, which I don’t, it’s not like I would do anything with you in the house. That’s just… I don’t even have words to describe how uncomfortable that is. And even if we were going to do what I assume you think we would do, I’ve been on birth control since I was fourteen Dad.” Dad was at a loss for words at my outburst. I raised my brow at him.

“You make a good argument….” Dad muttered.

“I learned from the best. Speaking of the best, when is Mom getting home?”

“She should be home around six. We will discuss dinner when she gets home.” I nodded, accepting his answer and began walking back up the stairs. When Dad made no further objections, Monty followed behind me.

After a few hours of studying and back and forth to decide a topic, my mom got home. “hey, did you want to stay for dinner? I can see what Dad is cooking.” I asked Monty. He checked his phone quickly.

“Uh, yeah sure. If they don’t mind. I don’t want to intrude or anything.” He replied.

“It’ll be no big. Come on, let’s go see what’s on the menu.” I stood and offered my hand to him. We made our way downstairs together. Dinner smelled delicious. I hadn’t realized I was so hungry. “Hey Mom. Is it okay if Monty stays for dinner tonight?” I asked casually.

“Sure thing kiddo. We are making Cajun Chicken Pasta if that’s alright with you?” Dad responded, while he chopped the chicken into pieces. Monty nodded and made no objection.  

Mom took a sip from her water and introduced herself to Monty, “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Lainie. It’s nice to meet you Monty.” Ever the professional, she made sure to shake his hand. Judging his grip, no doubt. She smiled to herself, obviously impressed. She then began asking Monty questions. Not third degree questions by any means, just questions. He answered all of them easily enough and they were able to make some conversation. I had somehow been roped to helping dad cook dinner in while Monty and my mom were becoming friends.

The back-door opening pulled us out of our peaceful quiet. Justin walked in with a box of pastries from Monet’s and placed it on the counter. “Hey Mom. Hey dad. Rachel, Monty.” He greeted us absently. He took an apple from the bowl on the island and began making his way out to the boys room.

“Dinner is in like 15 minutes bud.” Dad said passively. They were still wary of scolding Justin about food close to meals.

Suddenly, he realized just what he was witnessing because he stopped at the door and turned around. Justin scanned the room as though doing a headcount. He blinked a few times when his eyes landed on Monty. “Mom. What’s this here?”

“He is your sister’s dinner guest Justin.” Mom explained.

“Uh-huh. Hey Rachel? Can I talk to you?”

“Sure Justin.”

“Outside please?” I rolled my eyes at him but followed him anyway.

[myheroacademiashorts]

Rock Versus Needle

Request: Basically Kirishima already got a few piercings, but he’s worried his quirk will break the tattoo gun at the shop he’s at so he enlists Shinsou to brainwash him… Also Kiri looking really blissed out and dazed? ( By @ride-the-bifrost )

Prompt: (Requested) Kirishima was fine with getting piercings, but after one disaster at a tattoo parlor, he realizes he won’t be able to ink his skin unless he enlisted some help… And Shinso just happened to be in the neighborhood.

Pairing: Shinsou x Kirishima

Rating: Fluff! (Beginning of a romance?... ;3), some dirty thoughts

Words: 4,464 (DID I GO OVERBOARD?! IM SO SORRY)

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

“I’m sorry, you want me to do what?”

Shinsou stared at his red-haired friend, one brow propped up in slight surprise. The pair sat in a quiet cafe, with a cup of steaming coffee in front of each of them. However, both mugs sat untouched. Shinsou leaned forward, trapping his beverage between his elbows as he clasped his hands above it, resting his lips against his thumbs thoughtfully. Across from the table was Kirishima, who was currently fiddling with the stud in his earlobe. He was nervous, that much was easy to see, but Shinsou wasn’t exactly sure why. He leaned back in his chair, violet eyes scanning over Kiri’s figure as he patiently waited for a response. He let his eyes linger on the visible piercings that his friend already owned, from the dark studs in his lobes to the silver hoops that climbed up the shell of his ear. On each of his eyebrows was a curved barbell; one of his latest piercings added to his ever expanding collection.

“I wanted you to use your quirk on me… At a tattoo parlor.” Kiri’s voice was unnaturally quiet, and his tongue darted out to swipe his bottom lip, the steel of his tongue piercing glinted before disappearing back into his mouth. Part of Shinsou wondered how that cold steel would feel against his own tongue, but he quickly shook the thought away. He didn’t want to start another hopeless crush; not after the first one failed so drastically.

Kiri sighed, louder this time, and dropped his head into his hands on the table. “It was just so… So embarrassing!” Shinsou winced at his volume, which was bordering on wailing at this point, and noticed a few of the other customers glancing in their direction. “I knew it was going to hurt, but I wasn’t expecting my quirk to go off and break the poor guy’s gun! He said it was okay, but I gave him money for a replacement anyways, and oh man… It was just so unmanly of me to not control myself. And now I’m scared to do it again, not because of the tattoo gun, although that little guy is expensive…” Kiri was starting to ramble, acting oblivious to Shinsou’s presence and disappearing into his own thoughts. The action reminded Shinsou of Midoriya, and a small grin flew across his lips. “And money isn’t much of a problem since we’re pros now, but I don’t want to gain the rep of the one guy who’ll destroy your tattoo gun in the blink of an eye, ya know? And-”

Shinsou waved his hand, halting Kiri in his verbal tracks. “Okay, okay. I get it. Did you ever have the same problem with your piercings?”

“No! Those were practically nothing; the pain was there for a second, then gone! But as soon as that needle hit my skin…” He shuddered at the memory. “Man, I’ve been told that it was going to be painful, but that was not like being scratched by a cat, let me tell you!” Shinsou grinned at that answer, knowing what he was referring to. When he had gotten his first tattoo, the artist had told him the same thing, that ‘it’ll feel like being scratched by a cat over and over, no worries honey!’ when in actuality, it was much worse than that. Shinsou knew what it felt like to be scratched by a cat - he had several of them to know - and that was not it.

“Alright, I’ll help you… on one condition.” Kiri’s face brightened up almost instantly, and Shinsou wanted oh-so-badly to lean across the table and smash his lips to the other man’s, yet held back. “If I do this, you’ve gotta cover for dinner.” Kiri laughed at the trade, immediately agreeing and beginning to bubble with excited chatter. Shinsou, however, found himself with a sense of dread; he said he didn’t want to get another crush, yet here he was, setting up dinner for him and a supposed friend that he may have been a little attracted to… Okay, maybe a lot attracted to. He knew he shouldn’t have been, but after the break up between Kiri and Bakugou, Shinsou had become the red-head’s closest friend. He didn’t want to ruin that because of feelings, and he didn’t plan to. Sooner or later, they’d disappear, Shinsou told himself.

Right?

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

If Kirishima was going to be honest, he was terrified of asking Shinsou for his help.

As the two continued down the sidewalk, towards the tattoo parlor that was just able to squeeze Kiri in for a quick appointment, he couldn’t help but continually glance at his violet-eyed friend. Did he think Kiri was more unmanly now? Was he debating on staying as his friend? Did Shinsou hate Kiri for asking him to use his quirk for something so silly? Kiri hoped he didn’t. He liked having Shinsou as a friend, and his looks weren’t all too bad either. Not that Kiri would ever say that aloud; he valued their friendship too much to lose Shinsou because of a little crush.

Kiri looked away from Shinsou, instead daydreaming about the things that have happened to him so far to get him to this point in life. After him and Kat- Bakugou had broken up, Kiri had felt so lost. They’d been glued to the hip since high school, dated for 2 years, before Kirishima had ended the relationship after catching the infamous hot-head in a not-so-accidental position with his “arch nemesis” Midoriya. First, he had been upset, crying for what felt like forever and locking himself in his apartment… Then he was angry, to the point that he made it known to the tabloids who Ground Zero had an affair with, when it had happened, and so forth; all with his usual bright smile on his face. Essentially, it had plummeted Bakugou to the bottom of the popularity scale, especially since he was pretty mouthy to begin with. 

After ruining that, Kiri started to go more heavily on his piercings. Before, he only had the two innocent studs in his ears; but that quickly escalated to the metal that now climbed up his entire ear, to the piercings on his eyebrow and tongue, and finally to the most painful of the piercings on his, ahem… miniature Red Riot. Now that was a pain he wasn’t expecting either, but it still didn’t punch him the same way as the attempted tattoo had.

He looked at Shinsou again, catching his violet eyes in his own amber ones, and felt a light blush rise to his cheeks. Shinsou cocked his head to the side. “Are you nervous? You seem to be zoning out.” Shinsou asked curiously. Kiri immediately shook his head, placing a grin on his lips and flashing two thumbs-up in his friend’s direction. “Nah, I’m ready to go! Let’s get this rolli-”

And then he walked straight into a telephone pole.

“Kiri!” Shinsou grabbed his upper arm just as Kiri began to stumble backwards, eyes dazed and blinking, as if unsure on what had just happened. “Jeez, are you okay? You should’ve looked at where you were going instead of at me. I know I’m handsome, but still…” Shinsou’s attempt at a joke managed to make Kiri laugh, if only slightly, before he gently shook of his friend’s hand from his bicep. “I’m okay, I’m okay! I’ve taken tougher hits than that, you know!” As if to prove his point, he activated his quirk and hardened his face, sharp teeth still out for display in a face-breaking smile.

Shinsou sighed, running one hand through his unruly hair, but smiled back nonetheless. “Good thing we’re almost there. You’re sure you’re alright?” He reached a hand out, brushing it against Kiri’s forehead softly. Kiri’s face erupted with heat, turning as red as his dyed hair. “Y-yeah! I’m okay! Weshouldreallygetgoingcmonletsgo.” He practically spit out his words before rushing forward, placing both of his palms on his cheeks as if to hide his blush. Jeez, was he a high school girl in a shoujo manga or something? Hopefully Shinsou didn’t think that was too weird. He risked glancing behind him, watching as Shinsou’s eyes furrowed but followed close behind him.

Shinsou wasn’t exaggerating when he said they were nearing the tattoo shop; it sat at the corner of the street, a neon light blinking in its window to signal that the doors were open to all who dared to enter. For a moment, Kiri felt a chill slide down his spine, and a flashback to the days prior. He was about to turn around and call it quits for the day, yet Shinsou’s hand stopped him. It was warm against his bare forearm, and as the sleeve lifted up, Kiri could see the beginning of his tattoo. Kiri gulped. Not because of nerves, as Shinsou probably thought, but because Kiri had the urge to turn around and abandon the shop to instead shove the quiet man into a wall and kiss him until their lips were bruised. He jumped back for a moment, forcing Shinsou to drop his hand, and grinned weakly. “No time to waste!” He managed to slip the words past his lips before entering the building, trying to shake off the yearning feelings that were beginning to build. He could hear Shinsou sigh behind him, but didn’t think much of it; if Kiri had turned around to look at the purple-haired man, he probably would’ve noticed that Shinsou might’ve been having the same yearning thoughts as him.

The tattoo shop was clean inside, with one wall lined with seats and the other with framed artwork, most likely from the artists available. Straight across from the doorway was a long bar-like surface that blocked off the artists from the customers until both were ready, and in front of the register was a young woman with hair dyed as green as her vibrant eyes. She lifted her attention from her book just as the pair entered, a friendly smile growing on her lips.

“Shin! Long time no see!” She greeted the hero, placing a marker in her novel before closing it. “Were you here to add to the collection already?”

Shinsou laughed, and Kiri noticed the way his shoulder seemed to slouch with comfort. Oh, Kiri thought, eyeing the pair as they talked. This isn’t any tattoo place; this is Shinsou’s go-to. Knowing that the place was one that Shinsou held at such a high regard made Kiri feel warm inside, as if he was making a prominent connection with the violet-eyed man. He stared at the back of his head longingly.

The girl at the front desk craned her neck, eyes straying from Shinsou to instead land on Kiri. Her grin seemed to widen, if that were possible. “And I’d recognize that firetruck-red hair anywhere! Red Riot, am I right?” Kiri shook himself out of his trance and stepped forward with his hand out and his usual smirk. “That’s me! But call me Kirishima, since I’m off-duty!” The comment made the girl tip her head back and laugh as she met his large hand with her small one.

“Well, you’re funny at least.” She said, shooting a look in Shinsou’s direction as if to give him a signal. He shrugged her off, and she redirected her attention back to the awkward pro-hero beside him, releasing his hand in the process. “Have you come to add some ink to that virgin skin of yours?”

“How did you know?”

“Call it a woman’s intellect.”

Shinsou snorted, and dodged just seconds away from being smacked in the face by a flying pen. “Don’t make me angry, or I’ll make your next tattoo your last!” She threatened, although it held no malice in its words.

“Oh! Are you an artist too?”

She looked back to Kirishima with a wicked glint in her eyes. “Oh, I’m the artist to go to, honey. I go by Bambi.” She pointed to a small cardboard sign to her right, and Kiri read the store’s logo for the first time; Bambi’s Ink Corner: For All of Your Good and Bad Decisions.

“So! Since we’ve established that, was there any design specifically I could do for you?”

Feeling more at ease than before, the three of them moved past the bar and further into the parlor, sitting down in plush seats. Shinsou and Kiri sat beside one another, shoulders brushing, with Bambi across from the pair with a sketchbook opened up on her lap and balanced on her knee. Bambi forced Kiri to dictate a majority of the conversation, eyes jumping from her book to the red-haired man as she encouraged him to continue talking about himself, throwing in a few questions here and there. Not even five minutes had passed before Bambi had raised her hand up, halting Kiri mid-sentence. “Okay, I think I’ve got it. Let me know what you think- actually, you come over here. Let’s keep it as a surprise for Sir Stares-a-Lot next to you. Have you even blinked in the past few minutes?” She directed the jab at Shinsou, who rolled his eyes as he looked at Bambi instead, as a light blush dusted his pale cheeks. Kiri, ever so gullible, only blinked in response and moved towards the woman, eyes flitting down to her sketchbook.

Almost immediately, his eyes widened in shock. “Woah! This is amazing!” He gasped, earning a tinkling laugh from Bambi. Shinsou raised a brow at the pair, but kept his lips tight. “Is this for me?” Kiri finally connected the puzzle pieces together, and his face brightened after Bambi nodded.

“We could get the outline done today, and if you decide that you want it colored later on, we can do that too.”

“Y-Yes! That sounds amazing!”

Bambi smiled, and stood from her chair. “Alright! Let’s get started, then. Follow me.”

Kiri could feel the nerves kicking in once more, and he risked a glance at Shinsou, who had already gone back to staring at him. Immediately his ears reddened, but Shinsou didn’t move his gaze. “You’re going to do fine. I’m here for you.” The words probably didn’t mean too much, yet they still had Kiri mentally squealing at how romantic it seemed to sound. Instead, he squared his shoulders and followed Bambi. Shinsou’s shoulder brushed Kiri’s once more, yet Kiri brushed it off as an accident, not realizing that Shinsou liked the warmth that radiated from the red-head’s body. Even if Kiri didn’t realize, Bambi did, and she shot Shinsou a wiggle of her eyebrows.

“Alright, Rock Man. Any specific place you wanted to get this bad boy?”

“Ah… Maybe my back?”

“Back it is, then. Shirt off, stomach down on the table.”

Kiri shot another look at the quiet man accompanying him. Kiri was in fit shape - he worked out constantly, even when it was his day off - but suddenly he felt insecure to show it off in front of Shinsou. After a moment’s hesitation, however, he grasped the hem of his t-shirt and yanked it over his head in one swift movement.

Shinsou had to fight the urge to stare down at the other man's bare torso, and crossed his arms over his chest self-consciously as he risked a glance at the tattoo artist instead. Luckily, Kiri’s face was still hidden in the cloth of his shirt, since the look on Bambi’s left Shinsou with a blush and a stutter. Of course Kiri’s body was well-toned; he was a Pro-Hero of Japan, after all. Compared to his own body, however, Shinsou was a stick. A lanky, lanky stick. Idly, he wondered if Kiri would appreciate his body the same way that Shinsou would. The blush on his pale cheeks deepened.

With the shirt out of the way, Kiri followed Bambi’s directions, arms tucked under his cheek as he rested on his stomach, his toned back out on display for all to see. He shot his purple-haired companion a nervous grin. “This should be a piece of cake, huh?” He laughed, although his voice held the same tenseness his eyes did.

Bambi began prep immediately, slapping on a pair of vinyl gloves and wiping a semi-clear liquid on Kiri’s back. Automatically he jumped up, the coolness of the gel waking him from his own thoughts, and Shinsou smiled at his reaction. “You’ve already got it traced and ready to go?” Kiri asked, eyes moving to Bambi as she sat on a nearby stool, dropping dark ink into a tiny container that was barely the width of Kiri’s thumb. While this was his first tattoo, Kiri had seen enough of his friends get them, as well as the numerous ‘What To Expect…’ videos that flooded his computer. Bambi swung her attention to Shinsou, eyes narrowed, but quickly answered the question. “Of course Shinsou wouldn’t tell you, but I don’t need to. That’s my quirk, sort of; seeing things that aren’t there. So while you don’t see any stencil, I can. All in my mind’s eyes.” She tapped her temple, smirking. “It’s great for a tattoo artist, but not so practical for a Pro-Hero, ya know?”

Kiri breathed out a sigh of relief, yet his shoulders were still tense, especially when Bambi placed her gloved hand on his shoulder in warning. “Ready?” Her voice was light, and came right before the buzzing of the needle. Kiri’s ruby eyes strayed to Shinsou, whose gaze was already trained on the tattoo victim. “Are you ready?” He repeated the question, and after a moment of hesitance Kiri nodded. “I’m ready to roll-” He cut himself off, eyes glazing over as Shinsou’s quirk quickly went into effect. A twinge of guilt rolled through the silent man, yet he clenched his teeth as he remembered that Kiri had asked this of him. “Keep calm, okay? Don’t use your quirk until I say you can, and don’t move no matter what.” Shinsou’s voice was deep, and sleepily Kiri nodded in response, hazy eyes still trained on Shinsou as Bambi began to start. Kiri wasn’t even fazed by the needle as it dug into his skin; instead, a blissed look had overtaken, and a chill ran down Shinsou’s spine as he realized how… dirty his red-haired friend looked at this moment. He repeated his command to Kiri in his mind, tasting the dominance of them, and felt his cock twitch. Don’t you dare, he commanded, glaring at himself. You damn pervert. You’re just helping a friend, so keep your head. He turned back to Kiri, Bambi fixated intently on his back as she worked, and continued to speak softly to the dazed man. “Stay relaxed. What makes you relaxed? You can tell me.” 

Although a part of Kiri was lost to Shinsou’s quirk, another part was completely aware of the situation. He knew his body wasn’t responding to him, and knew it was because of Shinsou’s quirk; and he didn’t mind. Not one bit. Partly because he trusted his friend to not cause him any harm, but also because he could stare at his friend so plainly without any worry of being caught. He liked the way Shinsou’s tired eyes stared at him too, unflinching and unwavering. It soothed him. His mouth moved just as the quiet man had asked it to, and Kiri wasn’t sure if the answer was correct or not. “Flowers relax me. Carnations have the best smell, and they remind me of my mom’s house. A warm bowl of ramen with pork. Your eyes. Rom-com movies where…” Kiri’s dreamed-out voice faded from Shinsou’s attention as he froze up, registering the red-head’s words as he leaned forward. His eyes? That wasn’t what he was expecting.

“My eyes? Why?” He asked softly, and Bambi’s eyes flitted to his for a moment before she reabsorbed herself back into her work, tuning their conversation out. Kiri blinked slowly, and a dazed smile graced his lips as he answered. “They’re always so calm. I like that. They make my thoughts go quiet too, and that relaxes me.” His voice was quiet, still holding its usual Kiri-charm, yet more soft somehow. Kiri was always loud, even when he didn’t mean to be. Was that what he meant? That Shinsou’s eyes could quiet him down? Or was Shinsou just grasping at straws?

He shook himself out of his thoughts, ready to talk once more, before Kiri piped up again. “Your face relaxes me, too. Especially when you smile, which you don’t do a lot.” He sighed, his eyes closing for a moment. “I want to make you smile a lot.”

Shinsou felt giddy, which was rare. Was this a confession of sorts? It sounded like one. He wanted to pursue it, so badly that he almost wanted to jab at Kiri until his drunk-like state had spilled all of his emotions, but Shinsou knew he couldn’t do that. It’d be unfair to Kiri, and just imagining that situation happening to himself seemed embarrassing enough. Instead, he pursed his lips, letting a few beats of silence carry that conversation away, before continuing to murmur words of comfort, keeping Kiri under his control.

Kiri, on the other hand, was absolutely mortified.

How could he say all of that?! Oh god, if there had been any moment of his life where he had thought this is the most embarrassing moment of my life, then this would be it. He couldn’t even control what he was saying, yet listening to himself spew out the truth like a water fountain had him mentally banging his head against a concrete wall. And Shinsou’s reaction! It was so blank, shock only registering for a millisecond before it was wiped away. What was he thinking about all of Kiri’s words? Did he not like him in that way? Of course he didn’t… doesn’t. Kiri swore to himself. Why would he? You’re nothing special.

The session went on for at least an hour - Kiri wasn’t sure, but it felt longer than that - until Bambi finally dropped her needle onto the metal tray to her side. She swiped the back of her hand over her glistening forehead. “Okay! Done for the day!” As soon as the words had left her lips, Kiri’s eyes flooded with life once more, and he gasped at the newfound soreness that covered his back. It didn’t hurt, not at all; he compared it to a bruise. A very, very big bruise. Shinsou was right beside him in a moment. “You alright? How’s your head?” The concern was endearing, but all Kiri could focus on was the palm resting on his outer shoulder, as Shinsou’s face reflected back in his mind from earlier. His cheeks exploded in red. “G-good to go!” He shouted a bit too loudly, and practically leapt out of his chair, wincing slightly at the sudden movement. 

Bambi, of course, almost threw a fit when he moved, and lightly slapped his bare chest before finishing him up, hiding the new ink with a large black pad and securing it with clear plastic wrap. She explained the care instruction to him, even handing him a print-out of the instructions as she continued to speak, and it was at that moment that Shinsou realized he had no idea what tattoo his friend had gotten. He hasn't strayed from the red-head’s eyes the entire time. He mentally cursed himself as Kiri gingerly replaced his shirt back onto his torso.

“It’s pretty big, so make sure to wash it carefully in an hour or so. Shinsou’s gotcha if you need help, which you probably will. Right?” Her bright eyes strayed to the said man’s and he nodded. “Great. Well, thanks for the business! Head home before it gets dark, okay?”

“Wait! I haven’t paid yet!’

Bambi snorted at Kiri’s response. “Well, of course not. Shinsou already did that.”

Kiri immediately turned to Shinsou, nearly breaking his neck in the process. “But- Why- You didn’t-” He stumbled over his words, and Shinsou grinned. That seemed to shut him up quickly enough.

“Think of it as a belated gift. You’re welcome.”

Kiri’s face bloomed. “Jeez, man. You’re too nice.” He raised his hand to rest on Shinsou’s arm, but paused in mid-air, before deciding to gently fist-bump his shoulder instead. As Kiri headed to the exit, Shinsou cocked his head at him in confusion. From the counter, Bambi sighed. “Ugh. You two, I swear.” She muttered, but before Shinsou could question her further, she rushed forward and practically shoved him out of the shop, promptly locking the door behind him. He grunted at her force, and luckily Kiri had turned around to see what the commotion was about to catch the purple-eyed man. “Woah! You okay?” Kiri asked, and Shinsou fought down the blush that threatened to rise as Kiri’s strong arms wrapped around his thin frame. It was a nice feeling, and Kiri’s body radiated warmth, making Shinsou wish to lean into him more. Hell, after the dazed conversation from moments ago, he almost did. Then he remembered that Kiri hadn’t been in his right mind during the time, and untangled himself from the red-head’s embrace.

“Yes, thank you.” Shinsou’s voice sounded uncomfortably stiff to his own ears, but Kiri didn’t seem to notice as he smiled. “Alright! Well, I was hoping you’d help me wash this bad boy when the time comes, and I’m pretty sure I’ve got the ingredients needed for some pork ramen… For some reason, it sounds really good right now. Are you interested?”

A hesitant lump lodged itself in Shinsou’s throat. Kiri’s apartment. Just the two of them. Was that even a valid question? “Sure. Lead the way.”  Kiri pumped his fist into the air at Shinsou’s response, a beautiful grin spreading across his lips.

“All right! Let’s goooo!” He was practically skipping down the street, and it was only after he had turned away that Shinsou permitted the redness to spread from his ears to his cheeks. Awkwardly, he slapped his palms across them, as if trying to hide his embarrassment. Just friends. He repeated in his head, following the loud man as he tried to calm his racing heart. We’re just friends, and after I talk to him about my eyes, I’ll make sure of that. He doesn’t like me like that.

Shinsou continued to repeat the words in his head, not noticing how Kiri’s own face had heated up in a similar way as he walked. He had been repeating a similar mantra in his head, although the only difference in his was what if he feels the same way?

Kiri planned to get to the bottom of that question over a bowl of pork ramen, whether Shinsou was prepared for it or not. 

[the-coconut-asado]

Our Golden Girl’s Kitchen

A couple of years back, my cousin Doro announced she was going to publish a book of our grandmother’s recipes. It set all the cousins off on an odyssey of frenzied WhatsApps swapping memories, and in my case a mad dash to storage to find yet another of mum’s old scrapbooks, stuffed with fragments of recipes typed up on that onion-skin paper of the Mad Men era. 

Slowly but surely, recipes surfaced for Granny’s steak and kidney pudding (to this day, the name of our family WhatsApp group), tallarines (fettuccine by any other name) and more cakes and tarts than a whole series of Masterchef pressure tests.  

But Doro’s job was made much easier by someone else who had kept Granny’s legacy alive all these years. The person who, while Granny was a distant memory for many of us, was the biggest influence on our lives. At the end of the book, Doro wrote a dedication to her: “ Auntie Joan, I remember you, sometime before Christmas, making us stir the plum pudding and saying “don’t forget to make a wish!”; the chicken pie or Irish stew with dumplings you prepared when I used to come for lunch after university classes; the plum ice cream you always had in your “ancient” fridge and the smell of scones and cake on our birthdays.’

Last week, Auntie Joan died. 99 years of love, wisdom and many a raised eyebrow at each of us at one time or another. She had a delicious smile that hinted at secrets she might share with you some day, and even up to her mid-nineties kept a ramrod straight back, figure to die for and effortless elegance that prompted a 28 year old male friend to comment at my wedding that she was the only 68 year old he had ever fancied.Cheeky, but at the same time, kudos. 

If I’ve made her sound  like a warm embrace of a woman, she was. She was also a ninja. For most of her working life, Auntie Joan  - Joan Nolan MBE -  was Vice Consul at the British Embassy in Rosario, and later in Buenos Aires. She started volunteering there during the war, and eventually they started to pay her (nice of them), then promote her. 

This had upsides - her influence to help others (a guiding principle of her life), the opportunity to travel, and the people she met. She once told me of an Embassy cocktail party on board a ship attended by Eva and Juan Peron. She had little time for Peron, but was a little flattered when having started to leave down the gangplank he  abruptly turned back, sought Auntie Joan out, kissed her hand and apologised profusely for not having said goodbye. Manners counted for a lot with her, so the apparently off-hand Eva was barely mentioned in despatches.  

Her job also had downsides: held at gunpoint more than once, and in the constant company of a bodyguard after her boss was kidnapped (the inspiration for Graham Greene’s novel The Honorary Consul). One day a masked gang raided the embassy, rounded up all the staff, tied them up and locked them in the bathroom. But the ringleader treated Joan with weird courtesy, politely requested she enter the bathroom but left her unbound. Joan said afterwards: “ I think that man knew me. And if I ever see those eyes again, I will know who he was.” She kept looking but never did, but she did show us the hail of bullet holes the gang had let off at the outer wall of the embassy before they left. 

30 years on, at 85, clearly feeling she had been down this road before, she wrestled an armed thief trying to steal her friend’s car. ‘ Dear, I knew the gun was a toy’, she said breezily when I had my WTAF! Moment on a phone call with her.

Though all this time she looked after my grandparents and my great aunt until their deaths - pretty thankless and back-breakingly hard as they all survived to their nineties and in my great aunt’s case to 101 - as well as her husband Stanley who died when she was still young. Yet she still made time to feed, nurture and look out for her nieces and nephews as they travelled through her flat en route to school, college and work - and then her grand nieces and nephews as they repeated the cycle. 

Living in London, I didn’t see as much of Joan as my cousins, but felt just as close to her thanks to her copious letters. And it was her trips to London I remember most. Wafting glamorously into Gatwick in her boucle red overcoat, nipping up to Newcastle for the day to have lunch with a friend (when Dad retold the story, he always added, untruthfully,  ‘And the friend wasn’t even at home!”), leaving a cloud of delicate rose scent in her wake, a perfume that always reminded me of her apartment in Rosario. A bit like Buenos Aires itself, Auntie Joan was an evocation of the best bits of 1930’s Europe. 

And despite eating like a mouse in her own home - spreading her morning toast with what looked and tasted like wallpaper paste but was actually zero cholesterol cream cheese - her kitchen with its pots and pans, scoured and gleaming  within an inch of their lives, was in a constant hiatus of puddings, pies and roasts for the family as well as that iconic plum pudding at Christmas. And when we took her out to eat the appetite she kept hidden at home came tumbling out. I once witnessed her demolish a whole sea bass, noodles and a quarter of a peking duck when we took her to a restaurant in Chinatown. Unlike the rest of my family, she was unafraid of spice and heat. 

Serene, always; sassy,  sometimes. After all, Joan’s favourite TV programme when she came to visit us in London was The Golden Girls. In a life where everyone depended on her, she was someone comfortable with not needing to depend on anyone else - until old age meant she had to. I used to smile to myself when, in later years, she would end all of her stories with ‘And they said, “Joan, you are the ONLY one who could have done/ solved/ sorted/ this’’. And yet, if we don’t tell the world how talented, determined and capable we are - who else is going to? #thiswomancould

So here are two dishes that we all eat thanks to Auntie Joan - her plum ice cream (with some added spice from cinnamon) and her Spanish Cake, a delicate and sweet treat that evokes  those high teas that are still a family tradition. And finally, a dish that evokes the memory of lemon chicken, the dish that she and my daughter Lara would love to make together. 

Hasta luego, nuestra querida tia. We were so lucky to have you as long as we did. 

Plum ice cream

I have never eaten plum ice cream other than at Auntie Joan’s house and I have no idea why it isn’t a popular flavour commercially. My version only tweaks her original recipe - two egg whites rather than one, a stick of cinnamon and the seeds of a vanilla pod added to the plums as they poach. The brilliant thing about this ice cream - aside from it’s taste of autumn, log fires and sticky crumble - is that you don’t need an ice cream maker.

Serves 4-6

Ingredients

300g red-skinned plums

175g caster sugar

¾ cup water

1 cinnamon stick

Seeds from one vanilla pod

Juice of half a lemon

300g double cream

2 egg whites

How to make

Seed and quarter the plums and pop into a pan with the sugar, cinnamon stick, vanilla seeds and water. Bring to a simmer, cover and continue to simmer on a low heat until the plums are soft and the liquid has become syrupy. Turn off the heat and leave for another 10 minutes - you really want the spices and the red skin of the plums to seep into the syrup. 

Turn the plums into a sieve and extract as much syrup and pulp as you can into a clean bowl, using the back of a spatula. Cover and chill for at least an hour. 

In two separate bowls, whisk the cream until it forms soft peaks (be careful not to overbeat or it will turn into butter) and the egg whites until they form firm peaks. 

Alternate folding the cream, then the egg whites, then cream, then egg whites into the plum pulp. 

Pour into a freezer container - or just use an oblong cake tin, cover and freeze overnight. Remember to take out of the fridge for 15 mins before serving. 

Spanish Cake

This is the perfect cake to eat with a cup of tea or coffee. Light and delicate from texture to flavour. Simple dust of icing sugar on the top and you are good to go. Auntie Joan’s original recipe as typed - which features in Doro’s book - is as spare with detail as one of Bake Off’s technical challenges. Fortunately I featured it in a column I wrote for Choice magazine a few years ago, so  have filled in the gaps. Makes 12-16 squares. 

Ingredients

125g melted unsalted butter

200g caster sugar

2 eggs, separated

125ml milk

600g plain flour

3 tsp baking powder

1 tsp ground cinnamon

¼ tsp mixed spice

Icing sugar to serve

How to Make

Heat the oven to 180C. Grease a 20cm square cake tin and line with baking parchment.

Whisk the sugar with the butter until thick and pale. Add the egg yolks and continue to beat for a couple of minutes. 

Add the milk and beat again. Finally, sift in the flour, baking powder and spices and mix gently until incorporated.

In a separate bowl, whisk the egg whites until stiff, then fold into the cake batter. 

Pour the batter into the cake tin and bake in the oven for 25-30 minutes. The cake is ready when the top is golden and a toothpick or sate stick inserted into the middle comes out clean. 

Cool in the cake tine for 5 minutes then turn out onto a wire rack to cool. When cool, dust the surface with icing sugar, cut into squares and serve. 

Quick Chicken with kale, haricots and caramelised lemon

Auntie Joan loved chicken, and when we visited Buenos Aires when my daughter Lara was little, she and Auntie Joan would love to make lemon chicken together. Am sure she would have loved this flavour-packed little number, courtesy of Alison Roman in the NY Times. 

Ingredients

1 lemon, thinly sliced, seeds removed

1 shallot, peeled and cut into 8

6-8 chicken thighs

1 400g can of haricot or cannellini beans

1 bunch kale, leaves only (discard ribs)

1tblspn sunflower oil

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

Olive oil for dressing

How to make

Toss the lemon slices and shallots in a small bowl and season. 

Heat a large frying pan or skillet, add the sunflower oil, then add the chicken, skin side down. Press the chicken down with a spatula to ensure the maximum surface gets nice and brown. Cook for 5-8 minutes, then cook on the other side for a further 8-10  minutes until cooked through and the chicken skin is nice and crispy. Transfer the chicken to a plate, leaving the fat in the pan. 

Add the lemon and shallot to the hot pan - stand pack as it will probably spit and sizzle. Cook, stirring gently, until the lemon has started to caramelise - about 3-5 minutes. 

Add the drained beans to the pan and season. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the beans soak up that caramelised chicken fat - about 4 mins. Working in batches, add kale and toss to wilt, seasoning again as you go. 

Return the chicken to the pan, along with the juices that have collected on the plate, and cook for a couple of minutes more. 

Serve, drizzled with a little olive oil, and accompany with some crusty bread. 

[angrylizardjacket]

take me to your heart

Summary: Lola's never had a proper Christmas, and after this one, she still hasn't, but Tommy's a surprisingly good gift giver. Set during the tour with Roxie, but well after she's departed.

A/N: Written on my phone, v Christmas. Warning: Lola n Nikki give each other dirty gifts but the fic is sfw. Tommy-centric. Also idk if he's genuinely greek orthodox, he might not be idk

[run to paradise]

----

"Sharise wants to do something for Christmas," Vince sighs, his heels resting on the table of the tour bus. Lola, at least, looks up from her magazine with a frown, though she seems to be the only one paying attention.

"She's in LA."

"We'll be in Phoenix by then, its not that long of a flight," Vince answers quickly, and Lola goes back to her magazine. "I don't know what to get her."

"A six-pack and edible panties," comes Nikki's answer, half distracted where he was trying to write lyrics. Vince's expression, however, wrinkles.

"Have you ever bought a present for a lady who wasn't Lola?" He snaps, crossing his arms, and though he can't see Lola's amused expression, he hears her snort of laughter.

"Yes," Nikki responds flatly, finally looking up, "but incase you haven't noticed," he gestured around to the bus, which was filled only with the band, as well as Doc and Lola, "none of them are still here."

"That's correlation, man, not causation -"

"You know what? Fuck your five dollar words, man, I was trying to help." Nikki snapped, picking up his notebook in a huff and heading to the back of the bus. Silence fills the air, Vince sulking a little, Tommy just looking between Lola and Vince. Mick, who was trying to nap, sighs deeply and shifts in his uncomfortable seat.

"Is that all you've ever gotten for Christmas?" Tommy asks and Lola's response is surprisingly honest.

"Zero expectationsl, zero disappointments; drink, eat, fuck, like any other day." She does give pause there, the magazine rustling as her grip tightens just a little, and when she lowers it, there's amusement in her eyes. "Also, grape is the best flavour."

"What?"

"For edible panties."

"You guys are absolutely no help." Vince declares. Mick just laughs at that.

Lola's never been too bothered by not having a proper Christmas, she and Nikki live a pretty secular life when they weren't dabbling in Satanism, and the others were usually too busy doing their own things around the holidays to notice the pair's lack of any sort of traditions. Usually they'll buy each other booze, or some sort of joke present, but its never been a particularly sentimental time for Lola, not that anyone had really noticed her apathy enough to care.

Until now.

The holidays have always been a sentimental time for Tommy, and though he'd strayed from his Greek Orthodox roots, he still took it as a chance to show his family how much they meant to him, and now he was feeling like a fool for leaving his band-family out for so long.

What the hell could he get them that they didn't already have?

Nikki was easy, as it turned out. One quick phonecall home, his father spends about twenty minutes rifling through the junk Tommy had left from hia teenage years, and a poster, heavily creased and golden with age, is waiting at their next hotel, express shipped. Nikki didn't want or need any fancy packaging, so Tommy bought a big, yellow envelope and put the poster inside, along with a lighter he'd bought at a gas station. It looked cheap, a bit rough around the edges, but he was pretty sure Nikki would appreciate it all the same.

Mick was a little more difficult, seeing as he was almost guaranteed to throw out any joke gifts, or amything he didn't want. It feels like a cop-out, to just give him booze - expensive booze, mind you - instead of something sentimental. As luck would have it, Tommy finds himself scoring blow in an alley beside a pawn shop, and once the deal's done, he spots an iridescent alien-head keychain. He tapes the charm to the bottle of booze, amd slaps a bow on it, and is satisfied.

He and Vince have been exchanging Christmas presents since high school, as long as they were in the same town. Mostly they're joke presents. Tommy's had this year's picked out for months; a Malibu Barbie he'd repainted himself with Vince's stage make-up. Vince he didn't need to worry about.

Lola was a different story. She lived her life in the shadow of the band's, her existence, her belongings, were a patchwork of their leftovers; her creature comforts were consumables, and while she always took whatever she could wherever she was, it was because she could, not because she wanted things. What can you get for the girl who seems to want nothing, and still gets everything?

"Lola doesn't want things, she wants experiences, opportunities," Vince is the one who Tommy finally goes to for advice, and was the only one who Tommy knew would be actually helpful. They're in Vince's dressing room now, Tommy polishing off a bottle of Jack while Vince touches up his own eyeliner. Tommy's frowning, still at a loss, and he lowers the bottle. Their eyes meet in the reflection of the mirror, and Vince visibly hesitates before speaking again.

"Have you ever heard her play piano?"

Christmas rolls around and they're stuck in a hotel in Arizona. They're finishing the tour in LA just days before New Years Eve; the end is so close they can all almost taste it.

Sharise invites them all to dinner, well, she invites Lola when she learns that Lola's never had a proper Christmas dinner and 'the rest of them can come too if they want'. Tommy feels like Santa, laden with gifts, as he gets to the private room they had booked at the nicest resturant in town that was still open. He'd spent the morning organising Lola's gift, and was glad to have a break to eat before he gave it to her, or more accurately, took her to it.

"We were meant to bring presents?" Lola looks immediately panicked when he steps inside with a rather full backpack. She starts patting down her pockets as if hoping to magically find a pile of gifts there. "I didn't- I mean like I didn't bring them- its just drinks- nice drinks -" she clarified, but Tommy grins brightly.

"It's chill, Lols, I just saw this stuff around and thought it would be nice, its not a big deal," with that he laughed a little self consciously, "and dude, I'm sorry but I don't even have a thing to give you."

Lola can't help but be a little put out by that, still strangely childish in ways that continue to baffle Tommy, but he hopes she'll appreciate his gift, even if he can't give it to her with the others.

They do exhange gifts; Tommy gives Sharise champagne, and she seems more amused by his gift to Vince than Vince is. Vince, for his part, gives Tommy an ornate fountain pen, which has Tommy confused at first, while Nikki roars with laughter, pulling out an incredibly cheap ballpoint with a bow on it.

"You guys are fucking assholes," Tommy scowls once he realises, though by now even Lola's snickering. The scar from where Roxie had stabbed him several months ago begins to ache, just a little.

Mick, like Lola, doesn't have any gifts either, but he passes her a lighter and gruffly tells her he found it on the bus, that it was her's and that this isn't a gift. He does, however, smile at the keychain Tommy gives him, and in a few days, Tommy will see it looped around the handle of one of his guitar cases.

To no ones surprise, Nikki puts a six-pack and a pair of cheap, grape flavoured, edible panties on the table, and slides it gracelessly across the table to Lola wearing a shiteating grin. Mirroring his smile, Lola reaches into the inner pocket of her jacket, and flicks him a little cardboard package. Its unmarked, nondescript, and absolutely no-one at that table trusted Lola to have put something appropriate in that box. Everyone waits with a sort of morbid curiosity as Nikki shakes the box, giving pause before opening it.

"It vibrates." Is all Lola says as he holds up the bright purple cockring, smile on his face giving away how genuinely amused he was with it.

"Presents are cancelled," Sharise declared with faux exasperation, but Tommy's already protesting, holding out his own gift to Nikki.

Sharise hands Lola a small present as Nikki unwraps his. For Lola, its new black lipstick and eyeliner, and for Nikki, its an old poster of his band, London, and a cheap lighter. Nikki's expression is unreadable, blinking slowly at the poster, the room's gone quiet enough that everyone can hear it crinkle in his hands as he looks up at Tommy's smile.

"It's the one I used to have on my wall, man; my folks kept all my old posters, I thought you might wanna burn the shit out of this one." He gestures to the lighter, nervousness bubbling in his stomach, unsure of how Nikki feels about it, his face still a little shocked.

Little by little, Nikki's lips turn to a smile, a bright, beaming, genuine grin. He practically launches himself across Mick to wrap Tommy in a hug, fierce and bright. Mick grumbles, but Nikki just crows about how weirdly cool it was.

"Yeah, i figured arson and petty revenge are like, two of your favourite things," Tommy babbles, hugging Nikki back, quietly pleased with himself. Its a strangely endearing moment, and when Tommy looks over at her, he catches Lola's adoring smile as she watches them, but its gone quickly.

Dinner is fun, between the bottles of rum they finish off between them and the lines of coke they have for dessert, which Sharise mostly abstains from, they don't really get out of line. Except for when Nikki sets the poster on fire with the candle in the middle of the table, and he ends up getting kicked out.

Whatever, he was mostly done anyways.

After dinner they all go their separate ways, but Tommy catches Lola before she gets too far. She's tipsy, grinning in the cold night air, happy to let Tommy lead her where he may. Lacing her finger with his, her free hand swings the six-pack Nikki had gotten her, while she hums a tune Tommy recognises but can't place.

They come to a stop outside of the Hall where the band were due to perform the following night, their equipment bus parked and quiet beside the building.

"Nothing's in there yet; we're bumping in tomorrow morning," Lola says, her hamd still in his. Tommy just grins, pulling a set of keys from his pocket, jangling them enticingly.

"So we've got the whole night."

Inside, in the middle of the stage, lit by a single warm, golden spotlight, sits a grand piano. The whole building is empty, save for the two of them, and Lola's grip on his hand tightens. All words leave her, eyes going wide and surprised.

Walking forward, she heads towards the piano, but she doesn't let go of his hand, gently tugging him along with her. His name leaves her lips, a disbelieving, reverential utterance. The lid is already lifted and she carresses the keys with her free hand.

"You didn't have to-" she turns to him, expression awed, but he gives her hand a squeeze.

"Merry Christmas, Lols."

Stepping up to him, her hand is gentle on his cheek, far more gentle, more tender than he was used to her being. Leaning in, they kiss softly, in sync, fitting together as they always had, as they were always meant to. Pulling away, Tommy's grin is fond as he kisses the tip of her nose. Untangling their fingers, he gestures wordlessly to the piano.

Lola sits, hesitates, listening to Tommy's retreating footsteps.

"Where are you going?" She asks quietly, fingers dancing across the keys as she plays a quick scale.

"Vince told me-"

"That snitch." Lola laughs softly, before adding, "'told you I don't like an audience, didn't he?" Tommy agrees, still paused halfway to the door. Lola is quiet for a moment, and she stops in her movements, but then she starts up again, and Tommy's heart is in his throat as he hears thw opwning bars of the song he'd been working on for almost a month amd a half now. The song's not yet finished, but he'd know the opening to Home Sweet Home anywhere.

"Can you stay?" Lola's voice is barely audible above the music. "If you want to, I'd like you to stay." And she doesn't know the lyrics, so she keeps playing what she's heard him play a hundred times over.

"I didn't know you knew this that well," Tommy finds himself smiling, walking back to the piano, to sit down beside Lola where she's shifted over to make room for him. She's smiling too, genuine, actually a little bashful, and she's still playing when she admits her thoughts.

"It's shaping up to be one of my favourites."

[literature-islit]

Donna Tartt - The Secret History (1992)

Sometimes, I think the happiest times of my life were the two months I spent living without a TV or wifi in a small country town. 

gather round children... 

My housemate had just moved out, and I was going to move out two months later, and the internet was in his name, and I couldn't really be bothered going through the hassle of making my own internet account, etc, so I just figured I’d make do. And it’s funny, like, at first it was at times a little boring and a little scary. Sometimes, I just wanted a comforting noise to have on in the evenings when the sun was down and things were quiet. 

So, I lived old school.

fun for the whole family

I listened to the radio... I read magazines... I played mp3s from my iTunes... and sometimes I just stared at the ceiling in silence. And, you know what? It actually was incredibly peaceful. I did all the stuff I had to use wifi for at work, and once I got home I dedicated myself to just... emptying my mind and chilling out. 

GPOY

I was obviously frothing to get back to 21st century life but even still now, the world of instantaneous communication at my fingertips, and zoom chats to attend and so on - I think back about my life without these technologies and I feel a little nostalgic. Because, don’t you think, sometimes the pressure of always being on and available gets a little much?

You know. Zoom chats are awkward, because u can’t read body language so you’re either talking over each other or trying to judge if the gap is long enough to speak. And, with the option of sending an interstate friend a text or FB message, it feels like there’s too much pressure to... I don't know. Stay engaged in a conversation. Whereas, sometimes I just wonder if I’d have a better quality of discussion if I reverted to writing letters?

I am, once again, in danger of going full Luddite.

There’s something I like to do, when I want to delve deeper into my nostalgia for the past and step deeply inside an all-encompassing retro reverie. When I want to feel the textures of telephone conversations and notes hastily scrawled and dropped in pigeon holes. A time when study meant libraries, and old books and handwriting (not jstor), when you had to walk hungover to get food (no UberEats), when you could go to your college dining hall and enjoy a cigarette with your black coffee (ok, just joking about that one)...

In other words, I step into the world in between the covers of Donna Tartt’s The Secret History.

Donna Tartt is so cool. She went to Bennington College with my (extremely problematic) fav writer Bret Easton Ellis, and while he scrawled his Valium-drenched numbed-out hip-lit Less Than Zero, she was passing him chapter after chapter of the novel that would eventually (she takes her time writing - as you should - can’t rush perfection) become her first bestseller. 

the epitome of cool

Anyway, the story goes something like this: Californian outsider from blue collar family attends arts school in wintry Vermont and becomes intrigued by a group of outsiders who spend their school days studying Ancient Greek with an impressive, passionate teacher with sparkling blue eyes. Eventually, they invite him to the periphery of their clique. As he slowly gets to know them, he becomes aware of a secret - they spend odd hours of the night whispering in secret, there are unexplained tensions and injuries and stains on the sheets...

Also, from the novel’s opening, you are aware that one member of the group will soon die. 

anyone who’s read the book - would this celeb couple not be perfect to play the role of the twins if they were (which they should) to make some kind of netflix miniseries of the novel?

Suspense and intrigue ensues. There is the most vivid depiction of a cold winter I’ve ever read in a book, which had me shivering and clutching at my doona even at the peak of summer. As someone who has lived at a college, the richly textured depiction of college life sent me immediately back to the oak fittings and heavy, stuck windows of my first year dorm room. THIS IS A BOOK TO SAVOUR. 

you also might learn a little something about the ancient greeks. 

Anyway i read this Good Reads review of it where the reader was criticising the story because the characters were “pretentious” and it felt all like some kind of humble-brag about how “alternative” a group of friends might be and etc, and while I respect the review author’s POV i have to say I disagree totally. You know, most American novels about college-aged students tend to focus around the high-jinks and shenanigans they get up to, that is to say - they focus around the popular groups

ok, not quite college, but you know what I mean

And so i found it really refreshing that the main characters in The Secret History were certainly not cool (not cool in the sense of going to college parties to drink and hook up kind of cool) (not cool in the Bret Easton Ellis Less Than Zero way, which reads as if it were set in the same universe as this novel (probably kind of is) but about the ‘cool’ kids and makes for interesting parallel comparison); Tartt’s characters are extremely eccentric and, like, flawed in their own personal ways - but somehow painted with such a vivid brush that you could really imagine their appearances, idiosyncrasies, and etc...

Okay, okay, maybe it is slightly elitist. But a guilty pleasure kind of elitist for me! Step back into the roaring late 80s to 90s era, when college kids got the traditional liberal education for free - and totally took it for granted! Without their phones tracking their every move, the crushing pressure to learn the latest tik tok dances and the distracting void of scrolling through memes - it was a recent history but one that has irrevocably past. Read this book to savour it! 

you don't know what you got til its gone...

[ill-go-with-that-then]

ERASERMIC MODEL AU I SORT OF WROTE

On the erasermic server I'm a part of, we have a thing called Story Time, where people can tell a story to whoever’s around, mostly in real time. This is one I did for @sraye96, who was having a bad day and wanted a model au. 

Shouta hates models. 

Unfortunately, as one of the principle photographers for the country’s fastest-growing fashion magazine, Plus Ultra, dealing with models is one of life’s regular little annoyances, like the subway being too crowded, or his favorite coffee shop running out of cinnamon rolls before he arrives. His agent, Nemuri Kayama, has assured him that this is temporary, a necessary stepping-stone for his career before he can move on to more interesting work, for news and travel magazines. Something real.

But in the meantime, models. They’re not all bad, Shouta supposes. Some are there to do a job, same as him, in and out of his studio with a minimum of fuss. But those are few and far between. For the most part, the models are whiny, demanding, critical, and rude. And the more famous they are, the worse it gets. 

So when Kayama calls him, ecstatic because Hizashi Yamada is on his way to the studio, Shouta genuinely grimaces. Yamada is a rising star, having him on the cover of their magazine will benefit everyone involved, especially Shouta. But he can’t work up any enthusiasm for what’s surely going to be a long, difficult day. 

“What are his demands,” he sighs into the phone. 

“Demands?” Kayama echoes, like she has no idea what he could be talking about. Shouta pinches the bridge of his nose, willing himself not to snap at her. 

“You know what I mean. What brand of water do I have to keep perfectly chilled? What zero-calorie snacks should I buy? Am I allowed to talk to him directly? Do I have to look at him through a mirror?”

He can practically hear Kayama roll her eyes. “As a matter of fact, he didn’t say anything about any of that. Maybe, just maybe, he’ll be easy to work with? And even if he isn’t, this will be such a boost to our careers that I’ll drive him over some fancy bottled water myself, okay?”

Shouta slumps forward. Kayama isn’t usually the type to embrace a fool’s hope, but he knows that when something seems too good to be true, that’s because it is. And if Yamada hasn’t been unreasonable yet, that just means whatever’s to come is going to be all the more unpleasant for it. 

Shouta sets up the studio himself. He could probably have an assistant, if he pushed, but he doesn’t have time to train anyone and after dealing with models all day, his tolerance for bullshit is at a personal low. He’s setting up a light and cursing all of his life-choices, when he hears a soft voice from behind him. “Hey.”

It shouldn’t startle him as much as it does. But he hadn’t heard anyone enter the studio, let alone the irritating entourage that usually accompanies a popular model, so finding himself suddenly not alone shocks him enough that he wobbles on the ladder. His panicked attempt to self-correct just makes things worse, and time slows as he plummets backwards. He only hopes he’ll kill whoever caused this, as well as himself.

But he never hits the ground. A strong pair of arms grabs him beneath the shoulders, holding him steady in the air, his feet still balanced precariously on the ladder’s step. “Whoa! That was a close one!” A voice says, near his ear. Shouta’s heart is pounding too hard for him to reply, so he just blinks helplessly as he feels himself lifted upwards, back into a position that lets him grab hold of the ladder and pull himself the rest of the way standing. 

“Sorry about that!” says the voice, as Shouta quickly climbs back to the safety of the ground. He turns around, not sure whether he’s about to thank whoever it is for saving him, or scream at them for startling him in the first place. 

He ends up doing neither. “Who the hell are you?” he snaps, not sure why this person is in his studio fifteen minutes before anyone is scheduled to arrive. Shouta’s never had a model show up less than thirty minutes late, and someone as famous as Yamada probably won’t be here for hours. So whoever this guy is, he has some explaining to do. 

The guy blinks at him, surprised. “Uh… Hizashi Yamada?”

Shouta looks the guy up and down. His clothes are nice, well put-together, but casual. His hair is tied up in a messy bun, and his glasses are thick and nerdy. He looks more like an IT guy than the type that usually hangs around models, but Shouta supposes he can’t judge. “What, did he send you or something?” 

The guy smiles nervously. He looks awkward. It’s cute. Shouta would think about asking him for coffee, if he weren’t some sort of model groupie. “Uh, no? I mean, I guess? He’s me?”

Shouta stares. The guy smiles a little wider, still looking nervous, and suddenly it’s obvious. Of course this is Hizashi Yamada - the trademark green eyes that Shouta would have bet his camera were photoshopped are blinking at him owlishly from behind the ugly glasses. 

Oh well. It had been a good dream. Shouta hopes that when all this is over he’ll be able to get a job as a department store baby photographer, but he isn’t counting on it. 

“Am I too early?” Yamada says, breaking the silence. 

“Yes.” Shouta speaks by reflex, and it’s all he can do to stop himself from slapping a hand over his mouth. Why, why does he always make things worse. “I mean, I’m still setting up. Don’t you need to do… makeup, or whatever?”

Yamada relaxes slightly. “Yeah, I brought some stuff with me. It’s supposed to be a natural look, right? I can do that myself.”

Shouta raises an eyebrow, too surprised to say anything. If this guy ruins the shoot because he thinks he’s a makeup artist, it’s Shouta who’s going to get the blame. But it’s not like he can argue - he’s in deep enough already. “Whatever. I’ll be ready to go in ten minutes.”

Yamada shoots him a thumbs up, hitching the black duffle bag over his shoulder a bit higher and heading towards the dressing area at the back of the studio. Shouta finishes setting up the lights while he’s gone, then eyes the set critically. He’d staged it with a particular look in mind, flashy and modern, not really suitable for the man who’d shown up. Still, with Yamada already here it’s too late to change much. There’s just enough time to switch the backdrop to a warmer color and swap out a few props to make things a little softer. That’s barely done before he hears Yamada walk up behind him. “Good to go? I brought a book if you need more time.”

Shouta searches Yamada’s open expression for any signs of a taunt, and finds none. “We’re good. Make yourself comfortable.”

Yamada does as he’s told, dropping himself down on the set and looking utterly relaxed. “How do you want me?” There’s no hint of flirtation in his tone, but Shouta nearly blushes anyway. 

“These photos are for an interview, right? About you?” Yamada nods. “Okay, then stay casual.” Yamada nods again, leaning back against one of the props and looking thoughtfully at the camera. This is the tricky part. Shouta knows the kind of shots he wants, he just has to figure out how to get them. “Tell me about yourself.”

Yamada smiles a little. The shutter clicks. “That’s a very broad question.” 

“Something dumb,” Shouta clarifies. “Ugliest thing you used to wear in high school.” 

“Okay, wow!” Yamada throws his head back in a laugh. The shutter clicks again. “You’re coming right for me, huh? How do you know I can answer that?”

Shouta hums. “Everyone hates how they dressed in high school. Give it up.”

“You got me,” Yamada grins. “I had a crop top that said Work It in pink sparkles, and I wore it everywhere. Now you answer.”

“My school had uniforms,” Shouta says blandly, snapping a photo of Yamada’s annoyed face. “But outside of school I only wore black.”

Yamada’s face lights up, delighted. “That’s amazing. Did you have an eyeliner phase?”

“I don’t know you well enough to answer that,” Shouta says, taking a few more pictures. 

“Something to look forward to,” Yamada says brightly, and Shouta grins. His shoots are rarely this productive. Usually by now the model would have demanded a cigarette break, or a fizzy water, or some member of their entourage would have broken something. But Yamada is professional, moving here and there whenever Shouta asks him to without a word of complaint, answering all of Shouta’s questions in a way that makes it seem like a conversation, rather than like Shouta is some kind of photograph-producing robot. 

He can see why Yamada’s star is rising so fast. He’s a pleasure to work with, on top of having a face the camera loves. 

After a while, Shouta calls for a break. He flips through what he’s got so far as Yamada walks over, out from under the heat of the lights. 

“Are the photos not good?” Yamada asks, taking in the way Shouta is frowning at his camera. 

“They’re good,” Shouta admits. “But they’re missing something.” Yamada just looks at him, like he’s waiting for Shouta to say more. “This shoot is supposed to show the real you,” Shouta says, not used to someone actually listening to his explanations. “It should be personal. The shots are good, but they’re not deep. It would be better if we could show people who you really are.”

Yamada pauses, considering. “Can I go get something from my car?”

“Sure,” Shouta nods, hoping desperately it’s not going to be drugs. But when Yamada comes back, he’s carrying a guitar case. 

“I love music,” he admits as he opens the case and takes out an acoustic guitar. It’s old and cheap, clearly well-used, and Yamada starts tuning it as he continues. “I never intended to be a model. I wanted to be a musician, or a DJ, something like that.” 

Shouta can’t resist quietly taking a few pictures, not wanting to interrupt. Yamada looks so different like this, softer, happier. More like himself. The crumbling brick wall of the studio is a better backdrop for this than Shouta’s flashy set. “There’s still time,” Shouta says, hoping the lighting by the window is good enough that he can capture the wryness of Yamada’s smile. 

“Sure,” Yamada shrugs, fingers brushing over the guitar strings. “Should I get back on the set?”

Shouta shakes his head, not wanting to ruin the moment. “Play something. Whatever you like best.”

Yamada smiles, leaning back against the wall and strumming a chord. Then he starts playing in earnest, fingers flying over the strings, some complicated piece of music filling the air. He’s good, far better than Shouta expected, and for a moment he’s so distracted by the music that he forgets what he’s there to do. But only for a moment. As good as the music sounds, Shouta is a visual person, and the peaceful, pleased expression on Yamada’s face is the stuff photographer dreams are made of. Shouta does his best to capture it, swapping out filters as subtly as he can, not wanting to be a distraction. 

Eventually, the song ends, and Yamada looks up, surprised. Like he’d forgotten where he was, who he was playing for. Shouta captures that, too. “Was that okay?” Yamada asks, tentative for the first time since he’d arrived. 

“Let’s see,” Shouta says, walking over to his laptop. He plugs the camera in, downloading the photos quickly. He can hear Yamada walk up behind him, and though his personal policy is to never let the models see any photos before he’s retouched them, Shouta will make an exception this time. 

Yamada breathes out, like a sigh of relief. “These are really good.”

He’s right. As rough as they are, Shouta can already tell they’ll be excellent, probably the best photos of his career so far. The light from the window is perfect, illuminating Yamada from the side, making him look ethereal, but the rough bricks behind him keep him approachable. The only way to describe his expression is content, and there’s absolutely nothing fake about it. It’s real. 

“Yeah,” Shouta nods. “I think we got it.” Surprisingly, he feels a flutter of disappointment. For once, he wishes the shoot had dragged on a bit longer. He probably won’t get the chance to work with Yamada again. 

“You’re really talented,” Yamada says, still looking at the screen. “I usually can’t stand pictures of myself, but these are… I like these.” He looks up at Shouta, smiling. “Can I steal you? Make you my personal photographer? I’m told everyone has a price.”

Shouta hesitates. It wasn’t a flirtation, necessarily. And getting involved with models is a bad idea, the worst thing you can do in this business, but-

But if he lets Yamada walk out that door, he’s going to regret it forever. “I like coffee.”

Yamada’s smile widens, blooms over his features, pretty enough that Shouta wishes he was still holding his camera. “Don’t sell yourself short, hold out for dinner at least.” 

“Dinner then.” Shouta can’t stop the corners of his lips from quirking up, ruining the his casual tone. “With further negotiations to follow.”

“I like the sound of that,” Yamada grins.