#i know the poll about his shirt is still technically going but i found an option i liked better

[popfizzles]

Boba's reference is done now !!

everyone please observe and love them :)

[auroraescritora]

THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE HOME - PERCY/NICO AU HIGH SCHOOL - CHAPTER XIV

In this chapter we have a super 18+ scene. It's a gift for the delay in updating the story. And while I'm on this subject, I'd like to know what you guys think about something. Like, technically, I should indicate that the blog is for adults, which would hide it behind that annoying warning and consider me a sex bot, you know? If someone reports me, the blog will be deleted. So, should I continue with the +18 scenes here or put them somewhere else? I've already put up a poll in the Portuguese version, but I'd like your opinion too.

Previous chapters: CHAPTER I / CHAPTER II / CHAPTER III / CHAPTER IV / CHAPTER V / CHAPTER VI / CHAPTER VII / CHAPTER VIII / CHAPTER IX / CHAPTER X / CHAPTER XI / CHAPTER XII / CHAPTER XIII

Percy learned something very interesting these last few days. He had found out the right way to have a happy ending, both between Nico's legs and in the heart of his beautiful baby. The secret to satisfying Nico was doing the right thing, at the right time and at the right pace. If he took things slowly at first, treated him with affection and made Nico relax, the chances of him getting everything he wanted and going much deeper than that were high. Honestly? Percy didn't think someone so innocent in everything he did could have such an uninhibited side behind four walls. The funny thing was seeing the rare moments where Nico remembered that he shouldn't act like that, feeling embarrassed, only to have Nico open his legs the next moment, asking for more.

“You've been a naughty boy today. You deserve a punishment. My boy remember what I said earlier today?’’

“Hmm… that you would let me cum?'' Nico tried, hopeful.

“No. I said, I would make you beg.’’

''Oh.'' That's all Nico said before being thrown onto the bed and his pants being ripped off him.

But Percy did everything with care. He took off Nico's sneakers, pulled his pants down along with his underwear and enjoyed the moment; it wasn't often that Nico let him see all that exposed skin. He stroked Nico's long legs and kissed them slowly, nibbling where he went, tortuously slow in his touches, moving up and up, finally reaching Nico's groin and lingering there, massaging the junction of his legs with his pelvis and touching Nico's member, then, he heard a whimper.

''What's wrong, baby?’’

''You… you‘re torturing me!’’

“Am I?’’

“Hmmm.'' Nico nodded, bringing his hands to his own face, like he was trying to hide it,  and ended up biting his fingers just as Percy looked at him, seeing Nico’s face flushed and his eyes almost closing with sleep, holding back the next moan. Percy had to admit, he was in the mood to do exactly what Nico accused him of doing. So, he ignored Nico's erect member and went a little lower, stroking his entrance, rubbing in soft, delicate circles, until it opened up like a flower for him, pulsing against his fingers.

But Percy didn't  push right all the way like Nico wanted. No, he kept rubbing and rubbing, watching Nico open and close for long moments, hearing the sweet moans that his baby couldn't contain inside himself.

''Percy!’’

“What it that?’’

''I…’’

''Yeah?’’

''I need you! Inside of me!’’

''Oh, no. Don't cry. We haven't even started yet.’’

“T-thank you.'' Nico whispered, all tearful, and leaned towards him, grabbing his shirt, begging sweetly, his big black eyes looking at him so desperately and frustrated that Percy took pity, although only now Percy was recalling their deal. If Nico didn't know what to say and wanted to continue, he would say “Thank you” and when it felt good and still Nico wanted to stop, he would say “Please”.

‘So sweet’ Percy thought. He would make everything better. So, Percy pulled Nico against his chest and comforted him, kissing his hair, mumbling:

''There, there. It's already gone. See? All good.’’

''I… I wanted…’’

''I know what you want.’’

With Nico in his arms, Percy turned to the side and opened the first drawer on the bedside table and took out a tube of lub. He put some on his fingers, warming the gel in his hand, and brought his fingers to Nico's entrance. Exactly as before, Nico moaned sweetly and threw his head back when Percy rubbed around Nico's hole, feeling Nico melt like butter in his arms, surrendering to the sensations he felt.

Percy couldn't help the heat that spread in his chest, both from pleasure and affection, but from lust too, that feeling that made him forget everything and encouraged him to take everything he wanted.

''Is this what you wanted, beautiful? For me to fuck you at my parents' house?’’

Percy tried to be as delicate as possible, as delicate as his pleasure-drunk mind would allow. And He had to admit, it wasn't enough for him, it never would be, because, deep down, he knew this wasn't the way he should treat his baby. If Percy had his head on straight, he would never do this, but something inside him dominated his body, making him act the way he never thought he would.

The truth was, since Nico’s return, he wasn’t acting like himself, he wasn’t behaving like Nico deserved. But, in the end, care and kindness wasn't what he wanted and it wasn't what Nico wanted either. Percy wasn't proud of himself; the next thing he knew, he had three fingers inside Nico, opening him slowly, but eagerly and more deeply than he had done in the past. Percy had to stop for a moment and take a deep breath, he had promised that he wouldn't let his feelings get in the way of his relationship with Nico. What could he do if Nico became even more beautiful, moaning with his back bent, about to come while he just kept playing with Nico's body, discovering the places that made him moan, and what made him cry with pleasure, or even that little place that was making Nico scream, shaking from head to toe?

That's why Percy forced himself to take his fingers out of Nico and take a deep breath. It wasn't right to treat him like a plastic doll, a little toy he could use and then put away in a box.

''Baby? All good?'' Percy forced himself to see through the haze of lust and see his baby and not… a lover where he could satisfy all his desires.

Percy watched in slow motion Nico opening his eyes, unfocused and dilated, breathing as deeply as he had done, looking confused.

''No... ah... don't stop... I... thank you.'' Nico said in the softest and sweetest voice Percy had ever heard, all obedient and happy, smiling dreamy, saying: “I'm so drunk.”

And then, Nico was laughing, looking more stoned than any drink could make him, putting his arms around Percy’s neck and kissing him softly. 

Percy couldn't blame him, he felt as high as Nico seemed to be, but what Percy hadn't noticed until that moment were the tears that were flowing, seeping from Nico's eyes that, in addition to being unfocused, were also teary;his dark skin warm to the touch, marred by invisible lines. Why did Percy know this? He had to raise his hand and wipe Nico's face, sliding them until he held Nico by the back of his head and neck, keeping them there, buried in Nico's hair. And Nico? Well, he just moaned, letting Percy lean him closer to him, and spread his legs wider, offering himself to Percy.

Percy didn't want to think about this, this… show of submission. That made something inside him wake up, something Percy was ashamed to admit he had inside him. But… he looked down and saw that Nico had cum at some point. They should stop, right? So, why was Percy unzipping his own pants and applying lube to his own cock?

Percy grunted when he felt the tip of his member's head come into contact with Nico's entrance. They should use condoms, shouldn't they? But he knew Nico was a virgin before he fucked him, which Percy knew was just another excuse for his endorphin-filled brain not to force him to stop. But, Nico had asked, hadn't he?

He didn't hesitate any longer, Percy grabbed Nico by the waist and pulled him against his member, letting gravity do its work. It was an out-of-body experience seeing Nico's small, tight little hole, accommodate his size, watching him go down slowly, taking him in inch by inch, seeing his member disappear inside Nico with almost no effort at all, now hearing the high-pitched moans and gasps against his ear, chest against chest, feeling Nico hug him tightly around the neck and wrap his legs around his waist, bouncing around in his lap so deliciously that for a moment Percy found himself without reaction, only able to gasp against his baby's black hair, helping him in any way he could.

Then, Nico let out a long, breathy moan against his neck and bit him hard, stopping moving immediately, squeezing him so hard that Percy didn't know how he hadn't come at that very moment. Yet, knowing Nico had just cum, Percy didn't have enough strength to stop, but he didn’t try to move either. So, he waited,  staying in that same position for long moments, sitting motionless on the bed, thinking that maybe Nico had fallen asleep, or that Nico didn't want to continue anymore. That was the moment when Percy heard a sly little moan and felt Nico move, just a little, rotating his hips, as if trying to find a better position. And Percy, like the gentleman that he was, helped him. Still holding Nico's waist, he moved him a little to the right and then forward, finding a more comfortable angle. 

Yes! Percy thought he had found it, feeling Nico squeeze him tightly and whimper like he was dying.

''Is it here? Like this? Feels good?’’

''Ah… ah… thank you!'' Nico squirmed and forced himself against him, hugging Percy tightly again. And since Nico was so determined to kill them with pleasure, it was the best way Percy could die.

Percy held Nico's hips tighter and, almost immobilizing him, pulled him up and then took him down, slowly and deliciously, feeling Nico squeeze him so hard it almost hurt.

''Baby, you gotta relax, hm? Take a deep breath for me.’’

Nico did, because he was the best boy in the world, and let himself fall onto his chest, relaxing with his head resting on his shoulders.

Ah, that was much better, because, suddenly, his member was sliding in and out of Nico without any effort, Nico moaning shamelessly with his head thrown back. Percy watched for a moment as Nico gave himself to him without any fear and forgot about himself, regretting that he had almost lost Nico forever.

''Do you want to cum?'' Percy asked, feeling himself float away.

''Per… I… ah! I don't know!'' And again, in the sweetest voice, but now panting and desperate, Nico opened those black eyes and pleaded with his gaze, something that Nico himself seemed to not know what it was.

Percy didn't really know what he was doing, but if Nico wanted it, he would make it come true.

''Touch yourself.’’

''W-what?'' Nico asked without understanding.

''I want you to touch yourself.’’

Percy then held one of Nico's hands and took it between their bodies where Nico's member was erect once again.

''I want to see.'' Percy repeated and waited to see what Nico would do.

Nico  blinked slowly at him and, still looking uncertain and stoned, wrapped his fingers around himself, beginning to slide his hand up and down, in the most delicate, gentle touch Percy had ever seen. He did nothing but watch Nico touch himself with him still inside Nico, feeling Nico pulse and squeeze him rhythmically for a few short minutes.

It didn't take long, as slowly and gently as Nico had started, Nico came, with long strokes and even sweeter moans. And this time Percy saw Nico ejaculating, the small member twitching and finally releasing the last drops until Nico stopped moving his hand and looked at Percy, blinking slowly and breathing quickly, as if waiting for the next order.

That was a slightly strange and wonderfully extraordinary moment for Percy. He was content to just watch Nico's pleasure and let his erection go away on its own. The fact is that Nico was still looking at him, still looking uncertain and honestly confused.

''Aren't you going to cum?'' Nico asked him, and Percy almost laughed, thinking he was going crazy.

“What do you suggest, hm?’’

“Oh.'' Nico murmured, tilting his head and gently placing his hands on Percy's shoulders. ''Can I decide?’’

“Sure.’’ Percy shrugged, why not?

The surprise came immediately; Nico lifted his hips, moaning softly and let Percy's member slip away from him. Soon after, Nico knelt on the bed, sat between Percy's spread legs and holding the base, kissed the head for long moments. He licked and sucked without rushing to finally suck it whole, starting a light suction, in the most beautiful and erotic sight that Percy had ever had the pleasure of witnessing, thinking that this would be the fastest orgasm of his life.

Nico started to move his hands too and suddenly, his member was sliding into Nico's throat. What finally made him cum was when Nico swallowed around him and gasped, choking slightly. And again, Percy had no reaction other than leaning on the bed and throwing his head back, moaning for a long time. Surprising him again, Percy watched as Nico continued to suck him, now so gently he could barely feel it, only sliding away when Nico was sure Percy had finished, finally softening against his lips. It was as if a new world had opened up right in front of Percy's eyes; he didn't know that someone sucking his cock could rock his world like that. But, of course, Nico wasn't just anyone and no one but Nico could cause these feelings in him.

''Per?'' He heard Nico's small voice call him. Percy opened his eyes and realized that he still had his head thrown back and was staring at the ceiling. It was difficult to even open his mouth.

''Hmm?’’

''I… I'm sorry… I didn't mean to…’’

He didn’t mean what? Percy wanted to laugh in hysteria and pleasure.

Content and truly satisfied, Percy finally gathered the strength to move and sat down on the bed, seeing that Nico was still between his legs. The funny thing is that Nico didn't look happy, looking like he would burst into tears at any moment.

''What's wrong, baby?’’

''I hurt you.’’

''Hurt me?’’

''You looked like you were in pain, but I didn't want to stop. You never let me do that.’’

Percy smiled and pulled Nico onto his lap, hugging him to his chest. He could tell Nico was right; It felt so good it hurt, like his orgasm was being pulled out of him and Percy had no control over it.

''You didn't hurt me. In fact, you only had to ask. You were great.’’

“Was I… great?'' Nico sank against Percy's chest, but he still looked doubtful. ''If you say so, I will believe it.’’

Percy smiled again and kissed Nico's hair. He just hoped that Nico wouldn't fight with him the next morning when they were both completely sober.

***

''If you say so, I will believe it.'' Percy hears Nico say, watching him close his eyes and sigh before relaxing against his chest, now breathing deeply in his sleep.

Percy was almost tempted to do the same and sleep in that exact position, sitting in the middle of the bed with Nico using him as a pillow. But unfortunately, he had to be the responsible person. Feeling his legs still shaking, he placed Nico on the pillows, covered him with a sheet and got up. He entered the suite's bathroom and after cleaning himself and arranging his clothes, he returned to the room with a damp towel and cleaned Nico, saying "I'll be back soon", which Nico didn't seem to hear, and left the room, closing the door softly behind him, leaving Nico under the covers in just socks and a t-shirt. 

He went downstairs and, already regretting it, saw that there were still people at the party. Not that it mattered to him, it was just another day at the Jackson house, so he walked with determined steps towards the kitchen, but when he got there he had an unwanted surprise.

It was Annabeth, of course! Who else? Who else could it be? His relaxation vanished in the blink of an eye, especially when Annabeth turned to him and smiled, holding a crystal glass with red wine against her lips, her favorite drink, Percy unfortunately knew.

Maybe he had hidden some things from Nico and, maybe he had spent more time than he’d wanted with Annabeth in the last few years; Nico was gone and Percy was feeling lonely, imagine his surprise when Annabeth showed him a little sympathy.

Percy had let his guard down, he admitted. In the name of old times and childhood friends, Percy decided that giving another chance to the first friendship he had made in his life could work. The fact is that everything was fine for some time, the gang got together once again and everything was going well, that is, until Annabeth, in a drink-fueled study session, their best friends and books scattered on every surface of his room, she had tried to kiss him. In the end, all Annabeth wanted was to be homecoming queen and take advantage of his family's influence to get a scholarship and a cheerleading position at the best university in the country. If she had asked him for these things, Percy wouldn't have minded helping, but since she decided to take it by force, Percy returned it in kind.

Now, here they were. Annabeth in a long red dress that hid nothing, standing in front of the refrigerator, seeming to observe some photos stuck in it, photos of them and their other friends from when they were children and Percy hadn't met Nico yet. Percy almost believed her longing look, almost got fooled once again, and all because he was trying to get his baby a glass of water with painkillers, hm?

Not this time.

''What are you doing here? I thought I was clear.’’

''I wanted to talk to you.’’

''You'd better go home.’’

''Don't you miss us? How it used to be?’’

Annabeth then turned completely towards him and placed the glass on the counter, moving closer to him, parading herself, trying to seduce him. All it did was make his stomach churn. What would he miss? Of feeling alone, as if he were invisible? Living to fulfill all the selfish desires of a spoiled girl? Of not being able to do something if Annabeth didn't allow it? The worst thing would always know that no matter what he did, Percy would always feel cold and abandoned, even if she was less than five steps away.

''How did you intend to do that? Breaking into my room in the middle of the night?’’

''It's a good idea. I still remember where it is.’’

''Have you gone crazy? That’s it?’’

''It's you who doesn't understand! It should be both of us. This is not natural. What would your father say if he saw you like this?'' Annabeth touched his shoulder and then the urge to vomit really came, almost materializing itself.

''My father has nothing to do with this. You’ve crossed the line.’’

''Percy, darling. It's not too late yet.'' Annabeth touched his face and looked at him with those cold gray eyes, something he had once found beautiful and magnetic, but that now froze his body and soul. If there was one thing he had learned from Annabeth, it was that manipulation came in all sizes and shapes.

He took a step back, out of Annabeth's reach and took a deep breath, feeling free from a ghost that had continued to haunt him since he decided he liked sweet, well-behaved little boys more than manipulative, cruel girls. Maybe Nico was right and the only way for him to really get rid of Annabeth was to run away and disappear, just like Nico had done before.

''You need to leave. Now!’’

''Percy, I know you're confused. He's so cute he almost looks like a girl, doesn't he? He will never give you what I can. A family. A home.’’

“Nico can’t give me…?'' Percy asked himself for a moment, distracted. Then, he felt like laughing. Nico gave him exactly what he wanted and in the exact way he wanted it the most.

''Are you sure about that?’’

Percy knew he shouldn't, knew it wasn't Annabeth's business, and yet, he did it. Percy opened the top buttons of his shirt and showed the mark in the middle of his chest from teeth and nails, close to his neck, but discreet enough to cover with his shirt.

''Do you think Nico doesn't give me what I need? He is so much better than you will ever be.’’

''You will regret it! How do you trade me for that--’’

''In fact, even if I wasn't with him, you'd be the last person on earth who--’’

Plaft!

Percy even didn't felt the pain coming, he just heard the sound of Annabeth's hand against his face, the cold touch of her hand freezing him face. The shock came when his face turned to the side with the impact, it came when her scream of fury reached his ears, completely enraged, like a demon had possessed the body of the beauty with light eyes and blonde hair.

''Do you think you can talk to me like that? That you can treat me like this? Who do you think you are!'' Annabeth shouted, going at him once again. But this time, Percy refused to submit to her wishes, he wasn't afraid of what they would say or what the consequences would be.

This time, Percy held Annabeth's arms and faced her, without fear, before the next slap could arrive.

''We're done here. I don't want to see you, hear your voice or know about you. You are not welcome in my life or Nico's life. And if you try something, you will regret it. This is my last warning.’’

With that, Percy turned his back on her and left the kitchen, still hearing Annabeth's screams. When Percy returned, Annabeth was still in the kitchen pacing back and forth, furious, with the crystal glass in her hand. But if it were up to Percy, Annabeth should keep the glass as a souvenir. He didn't want anything she had touched.

''Make sure she never sets foot in this house again.’’

Standing in the middle of the hallway that led to the kitchen entrance, Percy watched the men nod and go towards the intruder. Each one held Annabeth by an arm and without another word, Annabeth was taken away by the men, screaming and offended, because finally, the person who haunted Percy’s nightmares was banished from his home and life once and for all.

***

Still hearing the blonde's screams, Percy was finally able to get the glass of water and the painkillers that Nico would need. And feeling exhausted and with his face throbbing, he climbed the stairs to the upper floor and entered his room at the end of the corridor, finding Nico awake, leaning against the bedpost,  looking at his own lap covered only by the sheets with the saddest, most gloomy expression Percy had ever seen on his baby.

Everything got worse the moment Percy closed the door and step in the room. Nico raised his head and looked at him with those big black eyes, now all teary.

''Where were you?'' Nico said in a low voice, sounding hoarse and tired.

''I went to get some hangover medicine.’’

''I'm not hungover.’’

But Nico looked like he would fall asleep at any moment, continuing to look at him, as if he didn't believe him, and Percy gave up trying to convince him. Because, in that way, they were similar. Once they set their mind to something, nothing would make them change their mind. It would be worse if they found out that the other was lying. So, resigned, Percy walked quickly to the bedside table, placed the water and medicine on it and sat down next to Nico, pulling him onto his lap.

''What happened, hmm?’’

''It's nothing.'' Nico buried his face in the crook of Percy's neck and hugged him tightly around his waist, relaxing, and only then did he feel comfortable enough to say what he thought. ''I saw Annabeth at the party. After you sent her away. I hate knowing that she's still around, hanging around us and waiting for the right moment to attack.’’

So, that was the problem.

Well, Nico was more right than he thought.

Percy hugged Nico tighter, completely wrapping him in his arms, and sighed, laying his head on top of Nico's hair.

''Is what you think of me? That I would rush to her side after being with you?’’

''No, I don't think so. I just… she has a strange influence on you. I just… I don't like it.’’

''What don't you like?’’

''The way she looks at you. Like she wanted to… dominate you. It kills me to think that… to think that she can get what she wants.’’

‘Exactly what I do with you?’, Percy had the impulse to ask, but stopped before they got into an argument that they both weren't ready to face. Even though he knew their situation was different, and even though Percy wanted to dominate Nico, it was completely consensual between both parties; with Annabeth, he couldn't say the same. Just the thought of it turned his stomach.

''You don't need to worry.'' Percy said finally, trying to relax.

“Sure.’’

''Nico.’’

Percy grabbed Nico's face, pulling his head up and forcing him to face him:

''I love you. Just you and no one else. When will you understand this?’’

''I understand. Believing is more difficult. I remember the times when you smelled different... or had marks in suspicious places… '' Nico took his hands to the place he himself had left a mark, moving the shirt away to touch the skin and making Percy understand everything.

''They meant nothing more than… stress relief.'' Percy said, touching Nico's hand on his chest. ''They never meant anything more than that. You need to believe me.’’

''At the time I couldn't understand. It was so confusing. You slept in my bed and had sex with them.'' But now, Nico seemed to understand better, going to Italy and feeling the need to relieve that same kind of stress.

''You were… a perfect angel, delicate and immaculate. I didn't want to get you dirty.’’

''Get me dirty?'' Nico said, looking confused once again.

''I didn't want to force you like those boys did.’’

Nico raised his head, ready to say that those boys would never compare to Percy, looking back at him. However, when Nico saw a large mark on the right side of Percy's face, confusion was replaced by concern.

''What happened?'' Percy was immediately surprised by the change in Nico. The little boy was making a face, somewhere between confused and irritated.

''Your face. Who hit you?’’

Would it be too corny to say that Nico made him forget the pain? Percy decided yes, it was one of the cheesiest things he had ever thought of saying.

''It was nothing. Just a scratch.’’

''I want to know.'' When Nico realized that demanding wouldn't work, he gently touched Percy's face and kissed him sweetly on the lips, saying very delicately and quietly: ''I'm worried about you. Please, Per. Tell me who did this to you.’’

'It doesn't even hurt anymore.’’

''Please?’’

''Annabeth. It’s Annabeth. I found her in the kitchen.'' Percy sighed and closed his eyes, almost purring at Nico's affectionate touch. ''She didn't take no for an answer.’’

''Per! You should file a complaint!’’

'Maybe tomorrow. When Sally sees my face and makes me go. Or Paul arrives from a trip and drags me there with Tyson's help.’’

''Per.'' Nico murmured weakly, his eyes filling with tears, making Percy's heart clench and fill with affection in equal measures.

''I'm fine. I swear.'' To prove his point, Percy kissed him softly and stroked Nico's hair, combing it back. “See? Everything’s fine.’’

“Only if you take the pills.’’

''But I brought it to you.’’

''Let's share.’’

Percy smiled and shrugged. He broke the medicine in half, gave one part to Nico, swallowed the other part and held it in Nico's hands.

''How about a shower before bed?’’

Nico accepted the offer, of course. Because Nico was the most obedient and well-behaved boy in the world, always wanting to please him and take care of him, even if Percy didn't deserve it.

So, Nico took the medicine with the water and they stripped off the rest of their clothes, taking a quick shower and were soon under the covers. It had been a long day and all they wanted was a moment of peace and quiet.

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Soo... We finally begin to understand a little about Annabeth's relationship with Percy and Nico. Honestly? I didn't want to write about Annabeth, because it's a bit cliché. But here we are, I've been forced to introduce our antagonist properly. This way, Annabeth will be much more present in the story, but not too much, just enough to move the story forward. What did you think of her? And the development of the other characters? I'd love to hear what you think.

Thank you for reading!

If you liked it, leave me a comment, suggestions and constructive criticism. Even an emoji is valid, just so I know the story is pleasing you.

Until next time.

[the-shiftshop]

One Touch - Part 2

Inspired by @dark-limbo​​. Might want to check this blog out!

TO VOTE FOR THE POLL FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER, CLICK HERE 

 Today is the day I’ll be free to do whatever I want without thinking about anything else. Mom had allowed me to rest out of town all by myself for a week. Dad had lend me allowance which I can spent on what I had planned for.

Upon arriving to a beach resort, which was like 5 hours away from my hometown, I was feeling a little nervous. Technically, this has been my first vacation alone, away from anyone I know. Having the ability to hypnotize anyone doesn’t come with less worry about what dangers there would be. I may be confident to get anyone I want, I’m still scared that I might get in trouble with things and I wouldn’t be able to get away with it.

Trying to loose up, I just took a deep breath and decided to look around the lobby.

Looking over to the seats to the right near the windows, I’ve noticed this guy staring at me. He looked away after realizing I’m staring back but I know we had eye contact. He had his chest muscles peaking through his shirt and I can’t make myself look away. This guy’s interesting. I’ll come back to him later. But for now, let me drop my things to my room.

After reaching my room on the third floor of the hotel, I had to quickly drop my things and lie down on the bed. To be honest, choosing somewhere far to test my powers is not that important, but I had to make sure I’ll be going somewhere nobody I know lives, and somewhere I can enjoy at the same time. This is just to save from all the trouble of failing and letting everyone I am acquainted with know that I can hypnotize anyone I want.

Lying down the bed, I took a rest for a while. I started thinking of all the possibilities I can do here. Meeting all the men I might find attractive, pulling them in, and finally making them do what I please. All these thoughts are already making me hard, but I might need to save this up for later.

After lying down for a few minutes, only to be more frustrated because of my hard on, I decided to go out for a while and explore the resort.

Just as soon as I walk out to the back of the hotel, there I saw him again, dipping down into the pool. As soon as he descend down, I noticed that he was staring at me once more.

As I stare back at him, I notice him smile and look away. That’s already a hint, or if ever that I’m assuming things, I can always fix things up. Nevertheless, I’m nervous but excited at the same time. My own fun is about to start!

I walked near him as he keep his shoulders under the water.

“Andrei” He said.

“Nice to meet you.” I replied.

“So, you alone?”

He’s already asking if I went here alone. That’s already a big assurance he’s hitting on me.

“Yeah.” I answered.

“I actually saw you come in the resort, and you seem like you’re that type who never had been on vacation without their parents. Is it your first time around here?”

“Damn, you’re great at guessing.” I smiled. “Yup. It’s my first time here. I might need a little bit of company.” I looked at him, hoping he would get me.

“I’m actually with a few friends.” He replied, sounding a little more solemn, “But it wont hurt if I could help you explore around for a few hours.”

His eyes sparked up and it felt like mine too as we stare at each other. I chuckled and squat down in order to be much closer to him. I don’t want to play these mind games anymore, I want to go straight to the point.

“Or we can explore each other in my room.” I teased.

I was expecting him to brighten up more, but it seems like my assumptions were wrong. He furrowed his brows and stared at me, but this time, his eyes were of a different gaze.

“Ah. Sorry man, I don’t swing that way.” His tone of voice changed, slightly sounding disgusted. “I... I just thought that you might’ve need some help since you seemed lost.”

I knew it would turn out this way. Getting fooled by the nice guys. Even my face somewhat contorted to dismay. “I- I’m sorry, man.”

“Sorry, but, just leave.” He began to get out of the pool. I don’t want to cause a fight right now, especially when I just started my vacation. I should act quick.

“No, I mean, sorry. I didn’t mean to. I can still use a bit of-”

“Dude, get out of the way!” He tried to move me away but before I could even back off, my hands found their way to his arms.

Here he was now, in trance of my touch. I fell his shoulders rise as he take a deep breath in, keeping eye contact with me. He wasn’t moving, just frozen in place. I look around to see if anyone is watching. Lucky enough, we’re alone.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“No. I’m mad.” He answered. Monotonous, but you can hear how natural he speaks even under my control.

“No. You’re not mad. You’re happy.” I said.

“Oh. Yeah! I am happy!” He chuckled.

“You’re happy because you finally get to know me, you’ve been longing for me.” I whispered in his ear.

“I’ve been... wanting to know you...”

“Don’t speak a word. Dry off and change your clothes here. After that, follow me to my room.” I commanded.

It was a firm command. He didn’t speak at all. He proceeded to climb up the pool ladder and went to his things. He got his towel and his clothes to change into. He was under my control. He didn’t mind changing his clothes in public. He first took everything off, giving me a clear view of all of him from his muscular back. I want to touch him again right now, but I just let him change his clothes first. He wore his white tank top and his spare red short. Putting all of his things back into his bag, he hanged it over his shoulder and wore his flipflops.

I nodded and started walking back to my room. He followed.

Walking through the hallways was unintentionally nerve-wrecking. The fear that he might look like he’s in trace and other people might get weirded out, or that someone will call his name and since he’s under my command, he can’t talk, but luckily, we have arrived to my room.

I didn’t waste anymore time. I pushed him on the bed and started touching every skin I could. Exploring his whole body while he’s left frozen and unable to talk. I moved a hand to his crotch and gripped on his balls through his shorts. He wasn’t reacting whatsoever, but it took just one command.

“Match with me.”

With that, his hands moved up my back as I hear him give me soft but satisfied moans. I pushed my lips to his and forced my tongue in, which became much easier as he opened his mouth for me. My knee moved up the bed to his crotch as I massage him there with it. Both of my hands slowly took his tank top off, over his shoulders and off his head. He did the same, taking my shirt off. I pulled his face near my chest and he gladly sucked on my nipples.

“A-Ah...” The feeling was sending shivers all over my body. I want more than this. “Suck me off. Make me feel better.”

His hands moved down to my shorts as he try to pull it down. I stood up and let him take it off me. After finally exposing my raging hard on, I moved up the bed, with his legs in between mine, almost as if I can sit down on his lap. He continued kissing my chest, moving down to lick my abs, then finally to my cock. He proceeded putting all of my shaft into my mouth. He pull me closer as he lie down on the bed, my hands supporting myself on the bed while he’s under me, bobbing his head. I thrusted my hips slowly into his mouth. Everything feels so good. I can almost feel myself near my release. He flipped me over, now I am the only lying on the bed while he tries to get rid of his shorts. He pull my leg and aligned my hole to his shaft.

“No!” I exclaimed. “Not yet. I’m not ready.” I said. “I’ll be the one penetrating you.”

He smiled and dropped my legs down. He then moved to my cock, this time him aligning his hole to my shaft. He gave me a long painful grunt as he push himself down to my cock, then back up. I can’t endure seeing his face contort because of the amount of pain he’s having right now, but at the same time I find his hot.

He fell close to my chest, still my cock in his hole. We rolled over so this time I’m above him once more. He had put his arms around me as I thrust my hard on into him, slowly at first, but it wasn’t long until I quickened my pace. I muffled his moans as I pull him for one more kiss. My hand on his nipple while the other is stroking his cock that had been begging for attention.

I broke out kiss as I feel myself nearing climax “Fuck! Fuck! I’m gonna!” I screamed. I thrusted much faster than before until I pull out and came all over his body, spewing all my hot juice all over his muscles. We were left panting on the bed. Andrei, though, still was hard as ever. I still have not managed to make him cum yet so I decided to move back down to suck him off.

Not being able to say words, he keeps moaning and moaning as I explore his cock with my tongue. Bobbing up and down while my tongue pushing on his skin made me realize this might be giving him a lot of pleasure. His hands moved to my hair as he push me more, violently.

Soon, he screamed as he came into my mouth. I gladly swallowed all of it. He came too much though that some of them leaked out of my lips.

I finally pulled his cock out and stared at him while we both pant. For one last time, I moved near him, kissed him and hugged him as we rest.

Later this afternoon, I might need to release him back to his own control, but right now, I’ll just enjoy the skinship while it lasts.

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

Thank you everyone stopping by. If the poll does not appear below, click on the link to lead you to the poll website!

https://www.opinionstage.com/theshiftshop/who-should-appear-next2

[ohshcscenerios]

Neighbors

Chapter Twenty One

Poll Result: Hikaru and Kaoru

Haruhi woke up to warm sunlight grazing her cheeks and the smell of fresh coffee brewing. She buried her face into her pillow and groaned, not fully awake and not yet wanting to. She felt so warm beneath her blankets that the spring morning’s chill actually felt nice and didn’t make her shiver. 

She went to get up but was stopped by something anchored around her waist. She looked down and saw a brawny arm wrapped around her middle. Then she felt his slow breathing pushing against her back. In her morning haze she had almost forgotten what happened last night. Takashi was still asleep behind her, still holding her tight as he did when she eventually found sleep during the thunderstorm. 

But if he was still asleep then who was brewing coffee?

“Good morning sleepy heads.” Kaoru cheerfully called from behind the kitchen’s tiny island. He grabbed a metal whisk and continued stirring a white batter in a bowl. Haruhi assumed he was making pancakes. 

In her kitchen. 

She sighed, knowing she would have to clean that mess up later. 

She felt Takashi stirring behind her. He tightened his arm around her and buried his nose into her neck, letting out a long slow breath as he slowly woke up. 

He smelled the faint remnants of her shampoo and perfume from yesterday and quietly breathed it in, allowing her essence to fill his lungs as he greeted the day. He was so tired he thought he was dreaming, and so he treated it like a dream. 

“Mori-senpai?” Haruhi whispered over her shoulder. She felt the bridge of his nose pressing into her neck and wondered if he had fallen back asleep.

“Hmm,” He moaned, rubbing his nose’s tip under her jaw. He felt so warm, so small, and smelled so nice and welcoming. He wished he could greet the day every day exactly like this. 

Hikaru gripped the coffee handle until his knuckles turned white and shouted, “Hey Mori-senpai! How do you want your coffee?”

Takahi’s eyes snapped open and immediately jerked backwards, letting go of Haruhi’s middle. He had almost forgotten where he was and why he was there. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stretched his legs until his claves hung off the bed. He looked around him and realized her bed was a tad too small for him. How did they manage to sleep like this? 

“Forgive me,” he said, blushing at the sight of Haruhi still covered in her bed sheets. 

Haruhi lazily smiled, “You’re fine senpai. If it weren’t for you I wouldn’t have gotten any sleep last night, so thank you.”

Hikaru poured a cup of coffee and went to reach for another mug, “Get up you two, seeing you in the same bed makes me want to vomit.”

Haruhi cackled, “It’s too early to get sick Hikaru, you haven’t had breakfast yet.”

She threw her bed sheets to the side and looked at her leg. Thankfully the swelling had gone down and the bruise, although still dark and ugly, seemed to have gotten smaller. Kyoya was right to have her rest her leg yesterday because it certainly helped it heal. Hopefully this means she can walk on her own today. 

Kaoru began pouring a ladle of pancake batter onto a hot pan with a sizzle and shouted over his shoulder, “Hey Haruhi, maybe it’s time to get out of bed with Mori-senpai. It’s kinda weirding me out.” 

“I agree.” Hikaru sneered, stirring milk into his coffee. 

Haruhi sighed and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She still wasn’t fully awake but the twins were right. Takashi did her a favor by helping her last night. Staying beside him felt like overstaying her welcome - even though they were in her apartment. 

Takashi also sat up and ran his fingers through his messy hair. The morning sunlight was bright and made him squint his eyes. He looked around the apartment and was glad to see that only the twins had snuck in. He didn’t really want an audience.

Haruhi walked to the kitchen counter and leaned over to smell Kaoru’s pancakes. She was surprised to see they were cooking nicely. Perhaps her friends were cooking for themselves more, now that they lived in the campus apartments. She’d be interested in seeing what else they could make. 

“Do you guys mind if I take a shower?” She asked. 

Hikaru shook his head, “No that’s fine.” He looked over at Takashi just as he stood from her bed. “Maybe senpai should take a shower and change too, in his own place.”

Takashi glanced at Hikaru but didn’t say anything. He knew he shouldn’t technically be here… but neither should they. He wouldn’t argue that now though. In a way he was right. Takashi needed to freshen up and gather himself for the day. The few moments he stole for himself this morning would be sweet memories for him later on. 

Takashi quietly left after Haruhi started her shower. The twins continued to prepare breakfast. 

“Hey Hika,” Kaoru started as he flipped a pancake over, “Do you think they did anything last night?”

Hikaru took another sip of his coffee as he thought and shrugged, “I don’t think so. Mori-senpai isn’t that type of person and neither is Haruhi.”

“They looked pretty cozy though.”

“Yeah, they did,” Hikaru admitted sadly, “It’s a good thing Haruhi is feeling better.” He remembered him and Kaoru using their spare key to sneak into Haruhi’s apartment to surprise them. They thought the two would already be awake, probably studying at her coffee table over coffee, but surprisingly they were still asleep. Haruhi was cuddled into Takashi’s arms with their bodies aligned against each other… he had to wonder if this is how they fell asleep or how they ended up. 

Hikaru shook the image from his mind. He didn’t want to think about that. Not right now. Today was a new day and he’d treat it as a new slate. A new day to enjoy her and their first year in university. 

Haruhi walked out of the small bathroom dressed in comfortable sweatpants and a large t-shirt, courtesy of her father. Her wet hair had been brushed back and left to air dry. 

“If you guys don’t mind, I’d like to use this day to catch up on my studies.” She said as she opened her laptop and brought it to her loveseat. 

Kaoru brought her a stack of pancakes and a cup of coffee and set it on the coffee table in front of her before joining her on the loveseat with his own mug. He looked over her shoulder and grimaced at the email she opened up. 

Their professors weren’t happy with them skipping class yesterday and made it clear should it happen again their grades will suffer the price. Haruhi groaned and clicked out of it.

“I knew I shouldn’t have skipped classes yesterday.”

“Don’t say that,” Hikaru said as he joined her on the couch’s armrest, “It was still nice to spend time with you. We should do this more often.”

Haruhi got another email notification. She opened it and read it out loud, “Ms. Fujioka, due to your unexcused absence yesterday I will be subtracting 5 points from your final grade, as firmly stated in the syllabus. Please revisit my classroom’s regulations before dismissing your responsibilities. You are an honor student and must behave like one. However I will give you an opportunity to turn in extra credit. I strongly advise you do, otherwise your semester grade will suffer.” 

“Dang, which class is this?” Kaoru sneered over her shoulder. 

Haruhi groaned, “It’s my evening class, the one we don’t have together. Crap.... I’m going to need help with this.”

Which class does Haruhi to have do extra credit for? 

Vote Here - Poll will close by 6:00pm (ETS)

The majority of the votes have decided we will continue Neighbors for another week! I’m actually excited, let’s see where this goes! 

[hms-chill]

Hi it’s election time and i’m Not Thinking About It by filling requests for folks who voted! @plotwitch asked for “something sweet about our boys helping elderly voters do their thing“ and uh... I tried. But as much as I love sweet little old ladies, the coolest person I know is this old butch, and I was thinking about her, so... this went... a direction. I hope you still like it!

It turns out, as the president's son, there's not much Alex can do on the day of an election. He's not allowed to work at a polling place, because he could sway votes. He's not allowed to officially drive people to the polls, because he could tell them how to vote on the way there. Aside from that, he's expected at election parties and rallies throughout the day, scheduled for interviews and appearances almost back to back.

As the heir to a foreign throne, Henry is even more discouraged from participating on election day. He's not technically disallowed, but on Zahra's advice, he's refrained from signing up for voter registration drives or other events. Still, there's nothing telling them they're not allowed to talk to their neighbors. There's nothing stopping them from taking David on a long walk and asking everyone they see if they've registered to vote, and if they haven't, there's nothing illegal or wrong about Alex just happening to have voter registration forms in his bag. And when they just so happen to be going to an early voting location, there's no rule saying they can't bring Nancy from next door along with them.

She's tickled that they've thought of her, and keeps asking them about their plans for election day as they head to the car. Alex has never actually found out if she knows who they are; she knows he's involved in politics but has never asked more. He tells her they'll be at a party at the White House, and she coos about how that will be so nice, and it's so lovely to see young people involved in politics, and maybe she could send a plate of cookies with them, because she does so love President Claremont.

They're in the car when Henry asks her about her first time voting, and she gives him the sweetest smile. “Ooh, I think it would have to be 1984. I registered so I could vote out Reagan, that murderous son of a—“

Alex glances over at Henry in time to see his face light up.

“I had to become a citizen first, you know, since I only moved here to live with my friend Betty in college. She was a firey one; you boys would have liked her. Always on the front lines in those days; staring down police officers and things. She played softball for years and had an arm on her like you wouldn't believe; she could throw a molotov like no one's business."

"It sounds like you were pretty politically active when you were younger," Alex says, and she turns pink.

"Oh, I don't know. I had to be careful at those things when I was a student; I could have been sent back to England if I wasn't careful. I helped out as a medic, though. Either of you boys ever hurt yourselves, you come straight to me, alright? I was a nurse for years."

"And if you ever miss the UK, you're welcome at ours," Henry says. "We typically keep jaffa cakes and some other sweets around the house."

"Oh that sounds lovely. Thank you boys ever so much for driving me here."

"It's not a problem, ma'am. You have a good time in there, and we'll be here when you're ready to go home."

She thanks them again, and when she disappears inside the building, Henry turns to Alex with an incredulous smile.

"I love her. I love her so much."

"God; she's such a badass," Alex says, grinning as he parks the car.

"I should interview her for my book, or maybe ask her to read a draft. If she was at protests in school, and a nurse in the '80s, she probably knows so much of our history."

"And she left England to be with her partner. Just like you," Alex says, and Henry grins. He's about to say something sweet when Alex adds, "When I'm dead, tell people I could throw molotovs like no one's buisness, okay? That's badass; I want to be remembered like that."

Henry's laughter fills the car, and he's still chuckling when they see Nancy come out of the polling place, a big smile on her face and an "I voted!" sticker on her shirt.

[kevinskorner]

2020 VMA’s Recap!

Every year, I always look forward to a few things and one of those things is definitely the MTV Video Music Awards. The VMA’s have been iconic every year since it’s inauguration in 1984 with Madonna’s Like A Virgin performance. As the insanely obsessed pop culture person that I am, the VMA’s are like a national holiday and I prepare myself heavily before they happen. For this year, obviously things are different because of a little thing called the Covid-19 Pandemic but anyhow, I was still excited. When the nominees got announced I was a very mixed bag of emotions. I was very excited because Lady Gaga and Ariana Grande got the most nominations of the year (9) but, I was disappointed because Harry Styles and Dua Lipa only got technical nominations and didn’t get any in the main category. One of my friends shared the same disappointment with me and they said how every nominee in Video of the Year was from North America and I didn’t even think of that. I wish they didn’t nominate some things... but that’s alright. As the weeks went on, I voted for my faves and MTV announced Keke Palmer was hosting whichreally got me excited again because she is a queen. Also, when they announced the performers, my favorites being Miley, Gaga, Ariana, and Doja, I became thrilled.

Now, here I am with my Rain on Me shirt on, a few hours after the ceremony ended and I got to say, I am IMPRESSED!!! That was an AMAZING ceremony. For an award show during a pandemic, I got to say MTV pulled, it, off. Let’s get into it!:

OH. MY. GAGA. 

Lady Gaga was the star of the night and I am NOT disappointed one bit. Going into the night as the most nominated artist (tied with Ariana) I had high hopes. When I heard she was performing, I screamed because I couldn’t believe we were FINALLY getting a performance in the Chromatica era. Knowing that she had so much planned for the era, it’s been sad to see none of it come to fruition. Now let’s live in the present. THIS PERFORMANCE?!? FREAKING INCREDIBLE. I don’t even know where to start. The beginning of the performance with the old television, her laying down on the couch (mask on!), and seeing the TV have the 1999 VMA’s (with BRITNEY mentioned!) was when I knew it was going to be one of the best performances of her career. THEN, she WENT DOWN THE POLL and Chromatica II started playing and I almost threw up. I was so excited that she chose to do that interlude and sing some of 911 (maybe the third single?)! I was shook. Next, she had a quick change and started singing Rain on Me, and I immediately was hyperventilating. When Ariana came out, I really thought I was gonna pass out. In that moment, I was just seeing a dream come true in front of my eyes. I saw two of my ultimate QUEENS come together and give me all the life I need. I mean, the outfits, the masks, the chemistry, ARIANA’S HIGH NOTE?! GAGA’S VOCALS?! I can’t even. After that, when she started walking to the Brain piano, I thought she was about to do 1000 Doves (Piano Version) but I was mistaken! It was the first single, STUPID LOVE! Honestly, I was so happy she performed Stupid Love and got it’s moment because that wasn’t even performed live yet before tonight. Her speech in between the Stupid Love performance was beautiful and I loved when she brought the beat in and danced her ass off. Ugh, I just love her so much. 

Onto the actual awards, I cannot believe that she won FIVE! I expected Best Collaboration and was hoping for Artist of the Year but I was NOT expecting Song of the Year! The one that I didn’t even know was happening thought was the FIRST EVER, TRICON AWARD?! The fact that MTV gave Gaga her OWN award for being an icon, a legend and a triple threat was filling my Little Monster heart with such PRIDE and JOY! Seeing her go up on that stage in a new look with a new mask each time, gave me a little boost of serotonin each time. She is just a goddess. There is no one like her and there NEVER will be. 

GOOD GOLLY, MISS MILEY

It feels amazing to be a Miley stan tonight. Miley has been one of my absolute role models since I was a child. I have followed her and supported her my whole life even when people didn’t and I got to say, tonight felt really good. Her performance was PHENOMENAL. Starting off with her GORGEOUS silhouette in that STUNNING black dress and  cross necklace with the red chrome light shook me because I was not expecting that. And, that break before the first chorus?!? LOVED. After, it went to a blue chrome and she started walking while it went full color. When I saw her walk towards some stairs, I had to catch my breath. Suddenly, I see a disco ball. Then she took the bottom half of the dress off and hopped on the disco ball and I SCREAMED. LOUDLY. The fact that she has such an ICONIC moment like Wrecking Ball where she can do something eerily similar and EVERYBODY knows it, is fucking SENSATIONAL! HER VOCALS WERE ON POINT, FACE BEAT, BODY SNATCHED. She just gave the most perfect glam rock pop star performance that I’ve ever seen. Miley having this mainstream moment again just made me so happy. ALSO?! SHE WON TWO AWARDS TONIGHT. I cannot believe Miley won two VMA’s tonight. She doesn’t win a lot of awards (which is extremely disappointing) and to see her win TWO for MOTHER’S DAUGHTER a single from last year that peaked at #54 on the Billboard Hot 100 felt incredible. I just love when she gets the recognition she deserves.   

Other Thoughts:

The Weeknd’s opening performance was so great!! Recently, I have gotten sick of Blinding Lights but this performance totally revitalized for me how great of a song that is. I don’t know how he was up so high but he did an awesome job and the fireworks were great! Also, I’m happy he finally won his first two VMA’s for Best R&B (even though it’s a pop song) and Video of the Year. 

Keke’s hosting was entertaining as hell. She was the perfect host for a time like this for many reasons. She’s funny, relatable, beautiful, entertaining and so many more positive things. I found her really funny and I just love her presence as a whole. Even her little performance was cute too! 

Doja Cat actually blew me away. I was not expecting her to serve that hard. The performance was so futuristic and felt like I was in a new universe. I loved her outfit and LOVED the Say So mix! Also, so happy she included Like That because it’s such a jam. I love Doja and ever since I discovered Juicy last year I've been stanning and this definitely solidified the stan for me. I am so happy that she won (RIGHTFULLY SO!) for Best New Artist. She has had a great rise and her performance definitely gives me high hopes for her future. 

My rankings of the performances are:

Pre Show:

1. Chloe x Halle - Ungodly Hour (THESE QUEENS ARE THE FUTURE!)

2. Machine Gun Kelly w/ blackbear & Travis Barker - My Ex’s Best Friend/Bloody Valentine (I have become really obsessed with his new music recently and love him)

3. Tate McRae - You Broke Me First (surprised by this cause I didn’t know anything about her before but she did a good job!)

4. Jack Harlow - What’s Poppin (cute ig)

5. Lewis Capaldi - Before You Go (🙂)

Main Show: 1. Lady Gaga w/ Ariana Grande - Chromatica II, 911, Rain on Me, Stupid Love (FUCKING AMAZING. SENSATIONAL, &, UNREAL)

2. Miley Cyrus - Midnight Sky (MY QUEEN SO ICONIC I LOVE HER SO MUCH)

3. Doja Cat - Say So/Like That (SO FUTURISTIC AND SOLIDIFIED HER WIN AND SHOWED THAT SHE CAN SERVE)

4. The Weeknd - Blinding Lights (really made me love the song so much more)

5. BTS - Dynamite (I like these boys but the fanbase is so much it stresses me out).

6. JP Saxe & Julia Michaels - If The World Was Ending (so cute, love Julia)

7. Dababy - Peep Hole, Blind, & Rockstar 

8. Maluma - Hawái (loved the drive in aspect)

9. Keke Palmer - Snack (wish she had more time)

10. Black Eyed Peas w/ Nicky Jam & Tyga - Vida Loca/I Gotta Feeling (no one can take Fergie’s place)

11. CNCO - Beso

To end this, I’m just gonna leave this picture here. :)

[dlwritings]

Who Do You See? | Tom Holland

masterlist found here

pairing - Tom x reader word count - 2,086 warnings - SAD TOM IS SAD AND I’M SAD A/N - This was inspired by an excerpt from “I know What You Think of Me” by Tim Kreider for the New York Times -- this is for @your-1up-girl @little-elizabeth @racewife2004 and @tragicluver who voted for this!

summary - Sometimes all the comments get to Tom. All the press and the fans and that opinions coming in from the world. And sometimes, he just needs some of your wise words of affirmation to bring a smile back to his face.

You were the one who advised Tom to take a break from social media. You could see it was draining him, trying to please the fans all the time. He wasn’t good with technology, and constantly trying to figure out what to post and how to post it correctly was exhausting.

And people were just so critical of him. During Civil War, he wasn’t fit enough. During Homecoming, he was fit but not muscular enough. During Far From Home, he was too muscular. He felt weird in his own skin, knowing that people were scrutinizing every ridge and divot across his body. At what point did that become an interesting or appropriate conversation topic? Sure, he pretty much signed his life away to Marvel, but did that mean his body too?

And he hated talking to anyone about it, because things like that weren’t supposed to bother men. They weren’t supposed to bother him. Who cares what people say about his body, right? It shouldn’t matter.

But it did bother him, and you knew it. Some days, you would see him standing in front of the bathroom mirror brushing his teeth, turning his body at different angles like he was studying himself. He always had a little crease on his forehead like he was thinking too hard, which he was. He started to wear his shirt around the house way more than he used to. Some days he’d be in sweatpants and a sweatshirt even if it was hot outside (He would just crank the AC.) like he was hiding his body away. If he was on the couch scrolling on his phone and you walked past him, you could see he was reading comments on his Instagram pictures. Something that he used to enjoy now only made the crease on his forehead a touch more permanent. Tom wore his heart on his sleeve, and it was easy to see when he was taking things personally.

So you suggested he delete Instagram and Twitter from his phone for a while and block the sites on his laptop’s internet browser. “Just take some time away,” you said to him. You had caught him pity scrolling again and sat beside him on the couch. He rested his head on your chest, and you brushed your fingers through his soft curls.

“Don’t wanna upset anyone,” he mumbled. His eyes were closed, and he wrapped his arms around your torso.

“No one’ll be upset,” you said. “And fuck ‘em if they are.”

Well, Tom couldn’t argue with that.

And for a few days, it was good. He didn’t have any projects he was working on, so the two of you got to spend a lot of time together. Without being under the microscope of a million fans, you could tell he was more relaxed. He was back to your goofy boyfriend who was shirtless way more than he needed to be and stood beside you while you brushed your teeth just so he could wrap an arm around your torso and stare at your reflection instead of his own.

And then, it wasn’t good. He wasn’t good. Because Tom was still human, and sometimes the insecurities crept up when he least expected it: after a workout, after a date night, cuddled up with you on the couch, taking a shower, waking up, going to sleep…

And he couldn’t handle it. He couldn’t not think about it. What were people saying when he was offline? What pictures surfaced of him during his social media hiatus that caused the fans to analyze and critique him? He had to know. It was like an itching in his fingers that he could only scratch by scrolling.

The curse of growing up in the age of technology, he supposed.

There was no harm in googling his name. It wasn’t Instagram or Twitter. He probably wouldn’t even find any relevant hits. Nothing but his Wikipedia page and social media links, he was sure. So while you were out picking up lunch, he let his curiosity win out.

After the expected hits, he saw news articles. They all had something to do with his hiatus or a trip to the gym or do fans prefer Homecoming Tom Holland or Far From Home Tom Holland or or or-

So he locked his phone and went into the bathroom. He stood in front of the mirror, that familiar crease growing on his forehead. Had he gotten too muscular? Who did he prefer: Homecoming or Far From Home Tom Holland? Or Civil War Tom Holland? Or pre-Marvel Tom Holland? He knew, technically, he was currently Far From Home Tom Holland, but what did that even mean? Had his identity officially been reduced to what movie he was currently promoting? Or how big his muscles were during each film shoot? Honestly, looking at the news articles and fan polls, he didn’t recognize any of those Tom Holland’s. Even the one in the mirror felt like a manufactured copy of who he once was.

He wondered then which Tom Holland you saw when you looked at him. You had known him longer than anyone in his life, so you experienced every Tom Holland. Who did you like the most? Who were you most comfortable with? Who did you find the most attractive? Who were you in love with? Who did you see when you looked at him now?

You came home to silence. You expected the TV to be on or music to be blasting, but there wasn’t. When you left to get food, Tom was showering. Was he still getting ready? Or had he gotten lost in his mind again? You assumed the latter but hoped you were wrong. So you set the food on the counter and headed into your bedroom. Tom was still in the adjoined bathroom, standing in front of the mirror, and staring blankly at his reflection. His hands were gripping the countertop, his eyes squinting like he was criticizing every flaw, and that crease etching itself into his forehead.

“Was it Instagram or Twitter?”

Tom jumped when you spoke. He had been so wrapped up in his thoughts that he hadn’t heard you come home. “Neither,” he said, finally looking away from his reflection. He leaned up against the bathroom door frame and folded his arms across his chest. You raised your eyebrows at him, and he shrugged. “Google.” You sighed and walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face into his chest. He hugged you back, but it wasn’t his usual tight bear hug. It was hesitant, like he didn’t want you close to him.

Like he was afraid you’d feel a ridge or divot you didn’t like.

You pulled away and put your hands on his shoulders. He hung his head so he didn’t have to meet your eyes. His curls fell in front of his forehead, so you brushed them away and urged him to look at you. Tom didn’t cry very often. When he was sad, he just looked exhausted. His eyes would get red (not teary, just red), and he’d be sporting bags under them. That was how he looked then, and it was how you knew that he wasn’t good again.

You pressed your lips into a tight line and took Tom’s hand, leading him back into the bedroom where you had a full length mirror. You sat on the floor in front of it and patted the ground between your open legs. “C’mere,” you said. He hesitated but did as you said. He faced the mirror, and you wrapped your arms around him and put your chin on his shoulder. You peppered kissed across his skin, and Tom hung his head again. Just as you were ready to say something, he spoke first.

“Who do you see when you look at me?”

You looked up at him and cocked your head to the side. “What do you mean?” you asked.

“I mean-” He sighed. “Who do you see? Everyone talks about Civil War Tom Holland and Homecoming Tom Holland and Far From Home Tom Holland, and I don’t even know which one I am anymore. Or which one I’m supposed to be. Or which one you want me to be. It’s like-” He cut himself off, annoyed for getting so emotional over something so stupid. Something that men were not supposed to be bothered by.

“It’s like what?” you asked, rubbing your thumbs across his soft skin.

He sighed again. “It’s like I don’t even recognize myself when I look in the mirror anymore. And I’m scared that one day you won’t like this Tom Holland. I’m scared I won’t like this Tom Holland.”

You were quiet for a long time. Tom worried he had said the wrong thing. Maybe you hadn’t thought about whether you liked this Tom Holland before, but now he brought it up and you were considering it. Maybe he had ruined everything just like that. He was preparing himself for you to say the worst.

“I read something once about a guy who dreamt about a weird invention.”

He hadn’t prepared for that.

“It was a staircase where you could go deep underground, and you’d hear recordings of everything people have ever said about you- the good and the bad. The catch was, you had to pass all the horrible things in order to get to the best things at the very bottom. I don’t even think I would make it four steps down, but the guy explained the logic behind it: if we want the rewards of being loved, we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known.”

You brushed your fingers through Tom’s hair, and he relaxed against your chest. “You’re a star, Tom,” you said. “And you have to handle the really bad things in order to reap the benefits of being famous- as much as that sucks. And your staircase would be so much longer than mine because people think they have the right to say whatever they want about you. But if you want to reach the bottom of the staircase, you have to be secure enough in yourself to hold your head high through the horribleness.” You paused. “But you know what else?” He met your eyes in the mirror. “You’re not going down this staircase alone. I think that’s where it’s logic fails. It thinks that we’d have to go down on our own, but we wouldn’t. Because I know I’d want you to be with me when I heard whatever good things have been said about me at the bottom, because that’s a joy I wouldn’t want to celebrate alone. And you’d help me through all the horrible things, so it’d be worth it. And I’d do the same for you.”

You nuzzled your face against Tom’s neck and kissed him. Your thumbs were still rubbing soft circles on his stomach.

You loved all his ridges and divots.

“When I look at you, I don’t see Civil War Tom Holland, or Homecoming Tom Holland, or Far From Home Tom Holland. I just see Tom. I see my beautiful West London boy whom I love with my whole heart, not despite the flaws, but because of them. Because you’re not perfect-” You scoffed. “-and thank god, because I’m an absolute disaster.”

Tom laughed, the smile on his face more genuine than it had been in ages. He turned around to face you, so you were sitting with his thighs crossed over yours. You giggled and draped your arms over his shoulders, curling your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. The kiss you shared was so soft and so caring and you were both so so in love.

“C’mon,” you said, moving your legs from under his and standing up. You reached your hand out to him and helped pull him off the ground. “I went to the sandwich shop on the corner.”

“Yes!” he cheered, pulling you in for a playful yet bone-crushing hug before you hit his shoulders and made him let go.

“What a weirdo,” you said. He laughed and slapped your butt as you walked ahead of him to go back to the kitchen.

Sometimes, Tom just had to be reminded that, despite the films and fans and critiques and polls, he would always just be Tom. And he liked that guy more than any Tom Holland the world had opinions on.

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

TAGLIST

@bangtan-serendipity | @planetdemon | @the-singing-clown406 | @tomshufflepuff | @bluelalal | @grandloser | @jackiehollanderr | @mindset-jupiter | @bisexual-sk8r | @feel-like-gold | @runaway-apple | @miraclesoflove

[notribs]

hello hello ! it is may again and i... am still 20, using she/her, and in the eastern standard timezone. i can’t say that’s changed in the amount of time between intros. anyway, i do want to say that i like this gif because i feel like it.............. is an accurate representation of ribs at........... almost all times.

‹ TREVANTE RHODES, HE/HIM, CIS MAN, BISEXUAL. › DAVID “RIBS” SHAFFER is the TWENTY-EIGHT year old from EMERYVILLE, CA. when a friend asked them what they thought of the manor they said, ❝ IT LOOKS LIKE SOMEWHERE JAMIE LEE WOULD BE LURED INTO. ❞ they claim ANY HORROR MOVIE WITH JAMIE LEE CURTIS IN IT is their favorite scary movie, and if they were to die in a horror film they would EXPLAIN TO THE KILLER THAT THERE WAS NO WAY HE MET THE CRITERIA FOR THE ‘FINAL GIRL’… JUST TO BE KILLED IN THE MIDDLE OF HIS SPEECH. their fears include HALLUCINATING, PARALYZATION and FIREWORKS, and they don’t know we know, but… HE MADE MONEY AS A DEALER WHILE HE WAS STILL WAITING FOR THE BAND TO TAKE OFF. hope they enjoy their stay. ‹ MUSE B from STRESSED OUT. ›

QUICK FACTS:

full name: david “ribs” isaiah shaffer

date of birth: december 1, 1992

*does not perfectly reflect the below Big Three zodiac chart because that’s so much math

zodiac big three: sagittarius sun, capricorn moon, pisces rising

gender & pronouns: cis man & he/him

sexual orientation: bisexual

occupation: drummer + backup songwriter + history of drug dealing

the song i listen to on repeat while i write the intro: “make or break” - bugzy malone

BACKGROUND INFO:

triggers: violence, mentions of drug dealing, very very very brief mention of self-harm (not the product of a mental illness which is why i forgot to include this until i looked at it again this morning - the product of wanting to keep a lie), very very brief mention of guns and fire in the ‘fears’ section

born to a very loving family bc i need a sunnier background hasfkljwas 

david was never EVER academically inclined. he’ll tell you it’s because he just wasn’t interested and was too involved in music and boxing, both of which will be gone over soon, but that wasn’t entirely true. he was also very busy working odd jobs days and nights as a kid and days and nights at successful businesses when he was 16+ (see: papa john’s)

his parents did own a music shop! they were clearly doing their part! but, in the digital era and the era of guitar center, they were only getting so much traction. they were also much too calm about it, at least outwardly, so david felt as though he needed to help.

but it is true that he spent a lot of time practicing music and boxing! as just mentioned, his parents owned a music store and were both very musically inclined. they taught him how to be, at the very least, INTERMEDIATE at as many instruments as possible. he can now confidently say that, if the band ever needed it, he could play the guitar, piano, bass, or saxophone. 

that being said, his instrument of choice was the drums. he began using jazz drummers, as well as various hip-hop beats, as his inspiration. his original inspirations were buddy rich, gene krupa, chico hamilton, art blakey, and the beats of grime and 90s rap.

it shows.

when he ventured into other genres, however, he began taking inspiration from nick mason, john bonham, neil peart, keith moon, ginger baker, karen carpenter, and ringo starr 

(i have a music theory + history lesson for you if you think ringo is a bad drummer ok - he was a “songwriter’s drummer,” which is much more important to being a drummer in a band than being technically skilled or being able to show off with complex patterns and, thus, overshadowing the song. that’s why the beatles continued asking ringo to play the drums on their songs, even after they broke up. john lennon never said “he’s not even the best drummer in the beatles” - a radio dj made that joke and people started taking it literally. love that.)

(also the same goes for nick mason but his drumming is rly only brought up when he’s brought up since pink floyd isn’t as talked about as the beatles)

ALSO!!! i have decided to be passionate about karen carpenter because girl won a 1975 poll that pit her against john bonham for best drummer and he got so mad and said she couldn’t last ten minutes with led zeppelin. the following is just alleged, but oh my god i hope it’s true: then she proceeded to compliment his drumming, say that she thinks it’s all very subjective, then got behind her set and played “babe i’m gonna leave you” while singing and not missing a single note. we have decided to stan forever.

he also took up boxing. as a kid, he was just practicing and taking any excess frustration out. when he turned 14, however, he found an opportunity in an underground circuit. he started fighting against other people, for real, and would be paid if he won the fight.

so: school from 8a-3p, drum practice from 3:30p-7:30p (i know), family from 8p-10p, boxing from 11p-2a.

his parents knew he boxed, but didn’t know it was as dangerous as it was. they assumed there were more safeguards in place..... but boy was bringing in a LOT of money for there to be a lot of safeguards in place. because of this, david NEVER let them see his matches.

when he was 16, he’d broken his ribs during one of the fights and refused to see a doctor over it. what did he say happened when his parents could TELL something was wrong? he said that he’d been mugged and beaten up. to support this theory, before he ‘showed’ it to them, he dug into himself with a knife to make it look like the muggers had a switchblade.

from there on out, he made everyone call him “ribs”

did his parents ever wonder where his excess income was coming from? DEFINITELY. he told them that, yes, his MINIATURE matches did bring in some money, but the rest of the money came from tips!! because people are clearly that generous!!

he also never showed them the full amount. he’d only give what was necessary, not out of selfishness, rather to keep his secret and save them from worrying about him. he put it in a savings account.

it should also be addressed that, during this time, he became friends with who would become the guitarist in his future band, joakim. he witnessed joakim fight a homophobic teenager and desperately wanted to join in... but his ribs were broken ahflskd

he continued boxing, even after being introduced to joakim’s college friend, gabe - the future singer of their band. that being said, they began jamming with each other and played in a few local circuits.

his parents were very encouraging of this and told him that he should go for this as a career opportunity. 

can you tell they were idealists?

he wanted to... but it was very impractical. by now, however, he was out of school (and he never went to college). his parents let him continue living with them since they were under the belief they were short on cash and it’d be difficult for him to find an affordable apartment under the papa john’s salary.

he decided to take his parents up on this... but, while he was waiting for his band to find success, their music store was closed down. as they both began looking desperately for new jobs, he realized that papa john’s and the fighting payment wasn’t quite enough anymore... so he started selling drugs.

he doesn’t keep his fighting a secret anymore, but he does keep his drug dealing a secret. he fears that it’ll perpetuate stereotypes.

during one of his band’s gigs, he and the others met their future bassist - the missing piece - rory. she was marginally younger than they were, but she was an extremely talented bassist and songwriter, so the lineup was finally complete and devil’s wine was formed.

when they began skyrocketing, he quit drug dealing. he also stopped the dangerous boxing, although he continues to... box safely. he began sending money back home after they really started succeeding. his mother got a teacher licensure in music and his father got the opportunity to own..... a guitar center.

if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.

VERY IMPORTANT: uses a pearl custom kit, istanbul cymbals, aquarian heads, and vic firth sticks.

that was very important.

PERSONALITY INFO:

literally obsessed with jamie lee curtis. watching her movies has also made him very genre-savvy. 

would genuinely die for her.

is the epitome of bob belcher’s “oh my god.” in his band. they get off topic during practice/recording just ONCE?? queue “oh my god.” and the gif above.

isn’t necessarily ashamed of his past dealings (literally) - like, joakim knows - but is genuinely afraid of perpetuating the stereotype of the dirty black boy. he’s open about the rest of his life, but he’s convinced that if people learn he used to sell drugs, he would be setting people back. having a black drummer in a rock band that’s on the radio? he needs to keep up appearances!!

never wears shirts during concerts. has to show off his ribs and also drumming, with a bunch of lights directly on him, is an extreme exercise and guaranteed sweat machine. dresses like bugzy malone otherwise.

ahflskjd again,,, like adrian,,, look @ his chart ig alhkfjd

FEARS:

hallucinating: he hates not only the idea of losing his mind, but also the idea of having a skewed view of reality after he really... saw reality, you know? his uncle had schizophrenia and, while he rarely saw him, the thought of going through what his uncle had/has to go through terrifies him.

paralyzation: this was a constant worry of his during his boxing matches - he was terrified someone would wind up taking out a firearm and would shoot him into a state of paralysis. not to mention, all limbs are required for both drumming and boxing.... so.

fireworks: less deep than the others. the house next door to his was set on fire due to a firework display being too close. while no one died and most of the house was salvaged, the idea of losing anything he has is terrifying to him. also the sounds they make remind him of guns so?

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

ok,,, so unlike adrian,,, he lived in california,,, a state many other characters lived in. while some cities in california can be like,,,, seven hours away,,, IT’S STILL AN IMPROVEMENT, so i’ll list a few past connection ideas too!

fans

people who hate his music

people who’ve seen one of his matches

old friends

someone who was constantly in his parents’ music store

exes

fwb

ons

???? im bad at connections!!!!!! but im down for brainstorming and/or working off of urs!!!!!!

[nutriyumaddict]

20. Babysitting together.

Hello! Thank you so much! This one kind of turned into a bigger thing…oops. ;-)

Leslie glanced once more at the time (it was a quarter to eight, five minutes later than when she last checked) and then looked again over at the baby on her desk.

Yeah. The baby. On her desk.

The baby in question was just a little thing, maybe three or four months old? Not that Leslie was a very good judge of baby ages or anything, but the infant was clearly not talking yet and she barely looked big enough to crawl on her own, even if she wasn’t all snuggled up in a wicker basket.

Leslie’s unexpected guest, for her part, was watching her with big baby eyes as if to ask: Well…now what?

Good question, baby. Leslie paced around her office as she ran through the current situation once more. Who in their right mind would abandon a baby in a basket at City Hall? The answer, of course, was probably a very desperate and heartbroken person who felt like they had no other option than to do something drastic.

When she’d first found the little bundle after hours in the women’s restroom, Leslie had looked around and checked each stall for the parent. Nothing. Then she carefully brought the baby back to her office, along with a bag filled with diapers and formula and a note, which she’d eventually discovered in with the baby supplies.

The handwritten plea asked for whoever found the baby to take care of her and that her name was Wendi. That was it.

“Wendi, I’m really sorry, but I’m not quite sure what to do here,” Leslie said, staring down at her unexpected guest.

She was very cute and thankfully, so far quiet but still, Leslie was running for City Council, she couldn’t exactly take care of a baby. Not that it worked like that, of course. It’s not like she was suddenly a single mother or anything.

Leslie had called the non-emergency police number right away and talked to Lou, Dave’s old partner, as soon as she got back to her office. Turns out, it would probably be hours before someone could come get the abandoned baby. Plus, Pawnee’s finest apparently trusted her to watch an infant for a bit, so it was being considered a non-emergency while the Wamapoke County CPS was being notified about the situation.

The main problem right now was that although she was definitely a responsible adult, Leslie knew pretty much next to nothing about babies. Ann was in Michigan visiting her parents and Leslie’s own mom was on a cruise and right there, those were the two people that she knew of that maybe understood babies.

Well, there was also Jerry, but she wasn’t that desperate yet.

As if deciding she’d finally had enough of this situation, Wendi started to cry.

“Oh boy,” Leslie muttered, moving closer. “Hey there, hey Wendi, what’s wrong? Are you hungry? Do you want to hear a story about Madeleine Albright and how she was the first female Secretary of State?” Wendi kept crying, so that was probably a no. Maybe she wanted to hear about Larry Bird?

Leslie turned around to grab her autographed photo of the basketball legend, where it sat right next to Madeleine’s picture.

“Look, Wendi, it’s Larry Bird. He was the head coach of the Indiana Pacers from 1997 to 2000 and now he–”

“Is that a baby?”

Leslie looked up at the unexpected interruption, surprised to see Ben in her office doorway.

He looked tired, standing there in his plaid shirt and a loosened tie. Also, what was he doing here so late? They’d bumped into each other in the hallway earlier in the afternoon, and she was about to latch onto him for their fun, five-minute conversation, but he’d taken one look at her stylish new pink and maroon sweater and turned away, walking into a supply closet seemingly just to avoid her.

“Yes. This is a baby,” Leslie answered, smiling and the current turn of events. “Wendi.”

Instead of walking away now, Ben frowned but moved closer. He continued to look really confused as he stared at her desk. The expression on his face was one she’d seen a lot since he’d come to Pawnee. “Why do you have a baby named Wendi?”

“Don’t worry, it’s not yours,” Leslie joked, trying to lighten the mood. But really, insinuating that she and Ben could have made a baby together before breaking up so that she could run for city council didn’t seem to exactly offer the levity she was hoping for.

He made a face. “Yeah. I really didn’t think that. Who’s is she? And why are you showing her your photo of Larry Bird?”

“I found her in the bathroom. I think she was abandoned and no one can come get her for awhile and I have no idea what else to do to get her to stop crying…” Leslie trailed off, watching as Ben took charge and crossed the few remaining feet to her desk, lifted Wendi up, and held her in his arms. Then his eyes widened.

“Good lord. I think this is a diaper situation.”

“Really?”

Ben kind of passed the baby’s lower half by her face.

“Oh my god.” How was it even possible for a sweet little baby to do that?

“Yeah,” he looked around and noticed the bag. “I don’t suppose there are any diapers in there?”

“Here,” she set the photo down and pulled a new diaper out. “Oh, hold on, I can Altavista how to change a…” but then she trailed off as Ben started rooting through the bag and got out a container of baby wipes and a worn pink blanket.

He spread the blanket out on her desk, laid Wendi down on it, and proceeded to change her diaper like a pro. Like he knew exactly what he was doing and crap on a calendar if that didn’t make Leslie all warm and gooey inside.

Damn it.

Also, she was fairly impressed just from a technical standpoint. “How do you know how to do that?”

Ben made a silly face at the baby and reached down so that Wendi could grip his finger in her tiny hand as she cooed, now perfectly content, and wow, okay, Leslie should probably stop thinking about how sexy Ben looked when he was taking care of a baby.

“My brother, Henry,” he answered her finally. “Remember he had a daughter a few months ago? Georgia. I went to visit and I got a crash course in changing diapers while I was there.”

“You’re really good with her. You know, with babies. You’re good with babies. You should have one,” Leslie blurted out, before she really realized what she was even saying. Then she did and she felt herself start to blush.

“Oh well, um…maybe one day. No current plans for future children right now.”

Leslie nodded quickly and decided to try and change the subject before she thought too much about Ben as a father. To be honest, she was still more relieved than she cared to admit that Shauna Malwae-Tweep hadn’t been here that morning after the world didn’t end.

“I’d take her to my place while I wait for CPS, but I don’t have a car seat or anything and so, I think we’re stuck here.”

Ben looked around and then back at Leslie and Wendi, still gripping onto his index finger. He sighed.

“I’m probably going to regret this, but do you want to walk over to my place with her? It’s just a few blocks.”

Like she didn’t know exactly where Ben lived. Like she hadn’t once run over there from this very building with stolen artwork or more recently, spent a handful of sneaky nights in his bedroom having cuddly, quiet sex with him.

“Really? I mean, yeah, that would be great. We can babysit together. You and me. Great idea, Ben!”

“Well, it’s at least a bit more comfortable and while it’s definitely not baby-proofed, I think between the two of us we could keep her out of danger,” he said, as Leslie started to repack Wendi’s bag. “And also, Andy is at Mouse Rat practice Thursday nights and April is at her parents’ for dinner.”

* * * * *

After checking in with the police department about her and Wendi’s new location, she and Ben wordlessly seemed to agree on a truce while they watched the baby together.

Not that they’d been fighting exactly (although the Model UN event last week had gotten fairly contentious), but right now Ben seemed less guarded around her. He wasn’t looking at her with an expression like he’d rather be anywhere else.

They were tentatively talking and eventually even laughing and communicating easily–even if it was about how to burp a baby or how cute little green booties were.

After Wendi was all fed and all taken care of, they sat on the couch and Ben coached her through holding the sleepy baby in her arms and to Leslie’s surprise, there was no crying or fussing at all. Wendi just looked up at her with her big blue baby eyes and seemed happy even.

Leslie snuck a peek at Ben. He was watching them with a soft and affectionate smile on his face, which he stopped doing as soon as he noticed her looking.

But still, he offered, “She likes you.”

“I like her too.”

Ben moved closer to Leslie so that their arms touched. It was quiet for a few minutes while they both watched the peaceful baby in her arms. She was sleeping now and Leslie was not quite so sure what she had been so frazzled about at first–babies were easy to take care of.

“How’s everything going?” He whispered finally. “You know, with the campaign.”

“Good. It’s all good.”

Ben nodded. “Your polling numbers are rising.”

“Yeah,” she responded, still looking at down at Wendi, but encouraged that Ben had been paying attention to her polling numbers.

Leslie relaxed and allowed herself the luxury of feeling close to him again. It was kind of like how she used to feel when they would just hang out at her place and talk or make-out. Except now, they were sitting here with a baby and that was leading to all sorts of thoughts about what else boyfriends did besides love and marry you–they made babies with you.

She’d been trying so hard to not think about Ben-stuff that much lately, especially after her meltdown a few weeks ago during the night with the Reasonablists, but tonight, she couldn’t help but do exactly that.

Leslie didn’t just want to be his friend but since that seemed like her only option for now, she couldn’t let go of it, no matter how much he seemed to try and push her away.

She wasn’t being obtuse, she was just clinging to anything to try and keep him in her life. Leslie was the one attempting to tread water until she could have him back completely, the way she really wanted him…she just didn’t know how to do that yet.

“Ben?”

“Yeah?”

“I want you to know that I miss you a lot. I miss this, being with you,” she confessed and then added, “I miss the romantic part of our relationship.”

He took a beat before he acknowledged her words. “I miss you too.”

But after he admitted it, Leslie could feel him start to pull away, both physically and emotionally. “Look, I’m glad you’re here right now and I’m happy to help with this situation but I think we should try to keep this…not so personal.”

“You were staring at my sweater today,” she told him, not at all trying to keep it not so personal. Besides, she couldn’t stop herself even if she wanted to, she needed to push for as much as he was willing to give her.

“Oh, um, well…it’s a nice sweater,” he admitted, definitely not looking at her sweater when he said it.

“Ann says it makes my boobs look amazing.”

Ben sighed and closed his eyes. “Leslie…”

“What? I’m just asking if you like my sweater and if you share Ann’s opinion. Friends can like other friend’s wardrobe choices.”

When he opened his eyes he didn’t look mad or even annoyed. Ben seemed sad and a little embarrassed.

“I’m sorry if I stared at your sweater earlier, I didn’t mean to. And yes, it’s very nice but seeing you and being around you still kind of bums out, so I’d really prefer not to, uh, talk about your breasts, alright?”

She swallowed but her throat threatened to buckle with a sob anyway. Leslie finally managed to get out a gruff, “Okay.”

Fuck, she was going to start crying and then that was going to wake up Wendi and then this whole situation was going to be even more awkward.

He seemed to know what was coming because Ben averted his gaze once again and looked down. “Don’t cry, Leslie. Please? I can’t…watch you cry and not want to hug you.”

“You could hug me.”

“You’re holding a baby,” he reminded her.

“You could hug both of us.”

Ben groaned but kept his voice quiet. “This isn’t fair. We broke up. And I need some space to try and get over you. Because I haven’t been able to get over you. Not when I see you every day and you wear sweaters like that and you tell me that you want me to hug you.”

They broke up because of her, but Leslie had no idea it would be this hard. That she’d miss him so much.

Maybe she should suggest that they say screw it about her campaign and even their jobs, and then they could hug and maybe even kiss too, with the sleeping baby between them. Oh, and then they could get Wendi a fake passport and take her to Spain, where they’d raise her as their own daughter. They’d all learn to Flamenco dance and make paella together for Sunday night dinners.

But just as she opened her mouth to maybe suggest some of that, the doorbell rang.

* * * * * 

Lou’s appearance at his front door seemed to briefly startle and fluster Ben, and he moved back quickly to let in both the policeman and a clearly tired Ms. Myton from Child Protective Services. She gathered up the baby from Leslie and the baby bag from Ben, all while Leslie tried not to sniffle about the previous mood in the room, which most everyone interpreted as sadness about Wendi’s situation.

“We’ll try to find the mother or her father,” Lou promised. “Or family. There are social programs and parenting classes and even if that doesn’t work out, I’m sure the baby will be okay,” the cop assured her.

Ben moved next to her to say goodbye to Wendi. It was a sweet little hand to finger shake that made Leslie tear up even more.

“Can I give you a lift in the squad car?” Lou asked.

“That’s a good idea,” Ben quickly answered for her. “Your car is back at City Hall, right Leslie?”

She looked at Ben. He was staring at her with a blank expression that she couldn’t read at all. No, wait. She could. It said, you need to not be here because I can’t do this anymore tonight.

Leslie nodded, moving onto the front porch with Lou. “Yeah. My car’s at City Hall. But you…” she added to Ben, “let’s touch base for that five-minute conversation tomorrow.”

“Great,” Ben answered in a tone that suggested he thought that idea was anything but, as he shut the door.

Ms. Myton and Wendi headed off in the woman’s blue Hyundai and Leslie got settled up front with Lou in his cruiser. Yeah, she thought, tonight was a little uncomfortable, but everything would be fine tomorrow. Spain was probably not a realistic idea (especially with the kidnapping and all), but Leslie knew that she and Ben could still be friends.

They just had to be.

[guiafeminino]

Suddenly, six teens running for Kansas governor doesn’t seem so preposterous

By Monica Hesse / The Washington Post

MERRIAM, Kan. – A report from the Midwest, where a gangly hope has arrived in the form of children enrobed in various assortments of khakis and blazers, because six teenage boys are running for governor of the state of Kansas.

The would-be boy governors of Kansas. This was a funny concept for a while, and then it became absurd, and then a national tragedy happened and it became not funny but actually an emotion approaching tender, even aching.

But on the Monday before Valentines Day, as a half-dozen minors vied for the highest office of a state that had never bothered to codify any gubernatorial age requirements, it was still absurd. And so on that afternoon, while a suburban mom named Carrie Stracy debated whether to make meatloaf or use up the salmon in the fridge, her son, Tyler Ruzich, sat in his bedroom and discussed his candidacy.

“I have always thought of myself as more moderate, almost an Eisenhower Democrat,” said Tyler, 17, whose opponents in the Republican primary this summer include the current governor and the Kansas secretary of state. “For me, the question of government is a question about adequacy. There shouldn’t be an effort to grow, but there should be adequate funding to cover programs.”

Regarding the so-called “Kansas Experiment,” a tax cut enacted by former Gov. Sam Brownback, R, that left the state topsy-turvy with ballooning class sizes and shuttered social programs – “I am most certainly against that,” Tyler said.

Tyler has a slight build, dark blond hair and an earnest way of saying, “I’m not too sure about that” when he wants to think something over. He drives a rustbucket Oldsmobile to get to Shawnee Mission North High School, where he is a junior, or to pick up his girlfriend at a different high school. The girlfriend didn’t know Tyler was running when they met, but she learned shortly thereafter when they were walking through town and someone jauntily shouted, “Hello, Guvnor!”

At present, Tyler was a long way from his party’s nomination, but he did have a slogan – “A Republican for the Next Generation” – and he did have a website, and he did have an 11-year-old sister named Sadie who had taken to wearing a pale blue T-shirt reading “Ruzich for Governor,” especially when she heard company was coming.

—

Tyler was technically the second teenage gubernatorial candidate to join the race. The first was Jack Bergeson, a 16-year-old Democrat from Wichita, who declared partly to offer a full-throated Obamacare defense – the Affordable Care Act helped his family – back in the summer of 2017. Tyler heard of Jack through social media and reached out; it was Jack who convinced him they could make a big statement about Kansas’s sorry state of affairs if there were teen candidates from both parties. Tyler, who was the captain of his school’s debate team and whose wall was plastered with a poster-size U.S. Constitution, logged onto the state’s website and downloaded the necessary forms.

The third teenage candidate was Ethan Randleas, a 17-year-old Wichita Libertarian. The fourth was Dominic Scavuzzo, 17, a Republican from Kansas City; Scavuzzo’s classmate Joseph Tutera, 16, became the fifth a few weeks later. The sixth was Aaron Coleman, 17, a Green Party candidate, although several of the others confessed they were not entirely sure Coleman was still running (“I’ve never seen him at anything,” Dominic told Tyler recently) and his Twitter account seemed to operate in fits and starts.

Still, it could be said with certainty that either five or six teenage boys were running for governor in the state of Kansas.

They had come to mean something. They had come to reflect the morass of the country. Fifteen months ago, Donald Trump had won the presidency based on the idea that politics were so corrupt, Americans could only trust an outsider with no experience. Now Trump’s polling numbers were in the toilet and the boy governors of Kansas represented yet another reboot: Truly outsiders. Truly no experience. If Kansas laws permitted a passel of hormonal teenagers to clog the ballot – well, then, some onlookers ruefully shrugged, maybe those were the candidates we deserved.

The aspiring boy governors had been to debates. Granted interviews. They traveled in a pack dressed in their best sport coats – the kind parents buy teenage sons, with room to grow in the sleeves, giving the illusion that the candidates themselves were proper-sized; it was their clothing that was too big.

—

At around 4:30 p.m., Carrie knocked on her son’s door frame.

“Did you find someone?” she asked.

A few hours before, a producer from Soledad O’Brien’s news show, “Matter of Fact,” had called, inviting Tyler to Washington for the show Thursday morning. The producer offered the stipulation that Tyler needed an adult chaperon. Carrie said she could chaperon while Tyler’s stepdad watched Sadie, but offered the additional stipulation that Tyler must find someone to cover his shift bagging groceries at the HyVee.

“I’ve been texting people,” Tyler told her. “I thought Kelsey could do it, but she has choir practice.”

Eventually, with no luck, Tyler pulled on his parka and drove to the store, rationalizing that it would be harder for co-workers to turn him down in person. “I’ll just wander,” he decided, scanning the aisles and spotting a kid in an apron.

“Hey, Houston? Are you working Wednesday?”

“I don’t know.”

“Can I check your schedule? I need someone to cover my 4-to-8. I have to go to Washington.”

The swap arranged, Tyler grabbed a Sprite and took it to a register where an older woman named Sherry was rubbing her lower back.

“Tyler!” she said, perking up as she scanned the soda.

“How’s your back doing, Sherry? Are you back up to 35 hours yet?”

One of the things Tyler appreciated about HyVee was how he got to interact with people of all ages. He liked his colleagues, how they came from different walks of life.

“You know, lots of people ask me, what can you, Tyler Ruzich, do for people my age?” Tyler said, back in his car. “I say, we keep continuing these Old Man Principles that aren’t working. In [Alexander] Hamilton’s time, someone my age could be commander of a frigate. Did the Founding Fathers consider that a 17-year-old might be governor? I don’t know. Did they consider that a reality-television businessman would become president of the United States after losing the popular vote? Probably not.”

—

The next morning, Tyler got up and drove to a nearby Steak ’n Shake. The aspiring boy governors had been invited to debate each other in a little town called Hillsboro, and Tyler planned to carpool with Dominic.

“Jack’s not going to be there,” Tyler told Dominic once their burgers arrived. “He couldn’t miss any more math.”

“Got it,” said Dominic, whose gubernatorial preparation had involved working at his mom’s frozen yogurt shop and joining his school Spanish club.

“His running mate will be there, though,” Tyler said. “And Ethan will be there. That will be . . . fun.”

Dominic laughed. A byproduct of the boy governors’ youth: outsiders had begun to think of them as a unit, as if they all belonged to the same political party, called “Young.” But they believed in different things.

Tyler was the most liberal of the Republican candidates. He supported “LGBTQ-plus rights.” He supported protecting the Ogallala Aquifer, the water table beneath the Great Plains states. At debates, Tyler often found himself tangling with Ethan the libertarian, who opposed him on almost every issue.

The only thing that they agreed on was that the lawmakers making decisions about the state’s education didn’t have to go to the state’s schools. And that the politicians running the country weren’t the ones who were going to inherit it. Wasn’t it a civic responsibility for the teenagers to become politically involved?

If they didn’t change things, who would?

“Have all the TV people been reaching out to you?” Dominic asked as they drove past flat fields and rusty water towers. Dominic told Tyler he’d gotten a call from Lionsgate.

“Lionsgate?” Tyler repeated. He wasn’t sure about the people wanting to make movies. It was hard enough to be taken seriously without bringing Hollywood into the mix. Especially for the Republican candidates. While Jack, the 16-year-old Democrat, had been invited to participate in events with the party’s older candidates, the GOP had shut out Tyler and Dominic from anything official.

A Republican state lawmaker was now trying to pass a bill saying that in all future elections, candidates must be 18. “We have age requirements on voters,” one of the bill’s supporters, Rep. Keith Esau, had told the Kansas City Star. “Anybody who’s running should be able to vote for themselves.”

Tyler felt wounded by this exclusion but compensated by accepting every news interview. This seemed the best way to gain exposure for his positions, but the interviewers almost never wanted to talk about his positions, just his age. He practiced deflection: “I guess if I’m governor, I could keep pardoning myself for truancy,” he said when reporters asked, winking, how he could finish high school from the governor’s mansion. “But on a more serious note. . . .”

On a more serious note, he wanted to talk about governmental transparency, he told the reporters. On a more serious note, he wanted to talk about how his party could connect more with young people. On a more serious note, could they have a conversation about net neutrality, and how he saw its repeal as a way of taxing poor people?

“Yes, I am old enough to drive,” he repeated wearily to a reporter on the telephone. He paused. “I drive a ’94 Oldsmobile Cutlass Ciera.”

—

Tyler and Dominic arrived at the Hillsboro debate a few minutes late, victims of a faulty GPS, and by the time they got to the high school auditorium, Ethan and Jack’s running mate, Alexander Cline, were already onstage (Alexander later described Jack’s absence as an “unavoidable scheduling conflict,” sidestepping the question of math class).

Alexander wore a traditional boy-governor suit. Ethan, the Libertarian, wore a T-shirt with a cartoon snake and the slogan, “No step on snek” – a “Don’t tread on me” interpretation for the 21st century – and was expounding on family farms. “The way to help is to get the government out of the farm,” said the candidate, who had worked on his own family’s since he was 11. “The struggle for small farms is too great.”

“That’s why you subsidize them,” offered Tyler, joining him on the stage.

The candidates talked about tax rates and their views on abortion, and then a teenage audience member went to the microphone for the next question:

“Tyler, do you plan on keeping conceal-carry laws the same? If not, what do you plan on doing to change them?

Tyler nodded. “I believe, first of all, that the Second Amendment needs to be upheld. However, I still believe that when it comes to – Now wait, I haven’t even said anything controversial yet,” he said as Ethan began to protest. “What I’m going to say is that public university students should not be allowed to carry guns on campus. We are too many school shootings too late.”

“My sister goes to Kansas State,” Dominic jumped in, citing a campus that permitted concealed weapons. “Professors do not feel safe there. It’s just spun into madness.”

After the debate, the candidates posed for a photo, and then Dominic and Tyler drove home and Tyler went to his job and spent the next five hours standing at a cash register, ringing up ice cream tubs and packages of frozen chicken.

—

Tyler and his mother were driving to the airport the next day, Valentine’s Day, when his phone buzzed with a news alert: Police were seeking an active school shooter in a Florida town called Parkland.

By the time they checked in for their flight to Washington, Tyler’s phone told him the death toll was rising. He thought about his own school. What if the shooter had been there, and Tyler had been caught, hiding for his life? Or what if, because he’d skipped his last class to make it to the airport, he’d been safe while his classmates were left to hide alone? He decided that would have been worse.

By the next morning, the teenage students of Parkland were already making their voices heard. Tyler watched as David Hogg went on CNN and implored lawmakers: “We’re children. You guys are the adults. You need to take some action.” There were videos of bloody bodies on Snapchat, and Tyler was putting on his blazer and going to the Newseum for Soledad O’Brien’s show.

Jack had been invited, too, and the two sat in armchairs across from their interviewer, who for once didn’t ask whether they were old enough to drive.

“One of the big stories of the week is another school shooting,” O’Brien said. “What would be your strategy for bringing an end for what people would agree is clearly a crisis?”

Tyler and Jack told her they both believed in gun-control measures.

Did Tyler realize, O’Brien asked, that this put him in opposition with most Republicans?

Tyler had bags under his eyes, and AP exams he needed to register for, and he needed to be back in Kansas by that evening because he had to be in school the next morning. His voice was a little hoarse.

“If I’m making an enemy of the NRA, that’s something I’m kind of proud of, to be honest,” he told O’Brien. “I’ve seen what gun violence does. It’s time that we change the rhetoric and the discussion. Because clearly we are too far gone to say it’s a mental illness problem.”

Was that the right answer to have given on national television? He wasn’t sure. It was what he believed. Why couldn’t any of the adult politicians seem to say what they believed, he wondered. The kids were all saying what they believed. Whatever the consequences, the kids believed in something.

Tyler spent the rest of the week following the news back home in Kansas, along with all of the other boy governors.

In quieter moments, when he wasn’t trying to spin things, he admitted that his chances of winning were not very good. But then again, he would turn 18 by the time the primaries rolled around this summer. And because of that, he at least had already registered to vote.

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I love Trump. Hes doing what he said. Presidents supporters keep the faith

Womens Marches and widespread criticism of the Muslim ban have not dented the loyalty of Trump voters

Cast-iron hooks, childrens vinyl records, classic food packages, tobacco baskets, vintage-style olive buckets and a rotary-dial telephone fill the shelves at James and Jess House of Goods. The antiques store opened two years ago, styling itself as rustic, hipster, chic with a twee strapline: Mostly old with a little new.

If the House of Goods was in Washington DC, it would be a decent demographic bet that its owners voted for Hillary Clinton. But it is 75 miles away in Washington County, which Donald Trump won handily. And while the capital city has been roiled by protests since Trump moved into the White House, from where James and Jess are sitting he is doing just fine.

I love Trump, James Zawatski said. I give him credit for doing what he said he was going to do; a lot of politicians dont. Im 47 and I never voted in my life but I did this year. We needed someone with a set of balls to do what needs to be done. Im tired of those liberals.

Trumps asteroid-like impact on Washington DC has caused bewilderment, consternation, disorientation, puzzlement and anger. Democratic politicians have been knocked off balance by a brash adversary while Republicans are struggling to adapt to an unpredictable ally. The media have rained criticism. Residents of DC where Clinton beat Trump by 90.9% of the vote to 4.1% express their mortification and fears. And last months Womens March on the capital was a dramatic statement of anti-Trump resistance.

But across the frontline of Americas increasingly tribal politics in Hagerstown, Washington County, Maryland, the perspective is turned on its head. Whereas critics see Trumps travel bans as un-American and sowing chaos at airports, supporters see him as keeping them safe; where critics see him blowing up foreign policy as he spars with Australia and slaps sanctions on Iran, supporters see him getting tough; where critics see him firing the acting attorney general and trampling on the constitution, supporters see him boldly smashing the old order. And where activists protest, columnists fulminate and millions recoil in fear of a world spinning towards catastrophe, supporters dismiss them as liberal cry babies and praise Trump as the first politician to keep his campaign promises. They see him not as a rampaging rhinoceros but a straight-talking strongman.

His plan to build a wall on the US-Mexico border is one example of this worldview complementarity. I love immigrants, I love Mexicans, but theres a way to do it, theres a procedure, said Zawatski, himself descended from Italian immigrants. These people come and theyre entitled to more than me whos busting his ass seven days a week. Were a great country but were being taken advantage of.

Personally I wouldnt spend money on the wall. Id just shoot them as they come over. Then they wouldnt come.

Zawatski had little sympathy with the hundreds of thousands who took part in the Womens Marches, many of whom wore pink pussy hats and carried placards condemning Trump over his past boast about feeling able to grab women by the pussy. He does not merely turn a blind eye to Trumps misogyny but condones it: What man never grabbed a womans pussy? What man doesnt talk in the locker room about what he did to a woman the night before? Women do that too. Were all human. His wife, Jess, 35, agreed: Its a guy thing. I know James talks like that among guys. So I dont hold it against Trump.

The Womens March, she added, was the stupidest thing ever because some were saying theyre being treated unequally. Women can stand up and go after what they want. Men arent standing in the way.

James Zawatski in his shop. Photograph: Chet Strange for the Observer

As Zawatski, wearing tattoos on his arms and a T-shirt with the legend Tattooed and employed, spoke to the Observer, a man stole a decorative sphere off its stand (total price $79) from the pavement outside the store. Zawatski spotted him and raced outside, prompting the man to surrender the object without acrimony.

Technically this is the hood, he remarked. There are a lot of barber shops here that are not barber shops, if you know what I mean. Comparing himself to Trump, he added: I tell the police chief, Do your job. Just do it.

Hagerstown has a drugs problem and several closed-down shops and cafes stand empty. But it challenges and scrambles perceptions of the map seen as crucial to Trumps victory. It is neither the Republican-voting deep south nor the pivotal rust belt portrayed in his dark and divisive inaugural address as containing rusted-out factories scattered like tombstones under the rubric American carnage.

On the contrary, it sits in Maryland, which Clinton won with more than 60% of the vote. It is an almost pretty city of church spires and historic buildings, boasting a fine art museum, biking and hiking trails, theatres and a tourism office, replete with leaflets about the areas civil war heritage and Hagerstowns origins involving an 18th-century German immigrant. On Thursday, students could be seen pouring out of an arts school after class.

Washington Countys median household income is $56,477 (45,000), above average for the nation but well below the state average of $74,149. The county voted 64% for Trump, 31.6% for Clinton. It is a red county in a blue state or, as Clinton supporter Al Steinbach, a 64-year-old sales rep, vividly put it: I call Maryland the vagina map: right down the centre is blue; left and right is red. Welcome to divided America.

Steinbach, who is literally afraid of what Trump might do, reads the Washington Post daily and listens to National Public Radio. When I turn to Fox News and see what the other side are saying, Im appalled by the extreme side they are on.

In the past, it has been argued, communities would be bound together by local newspapers and radio stations, establishing at least some common ground; now, in the age of fragmented digital media, everyone with a phone is an island. Last Thursday, Anthony Kline, 38, a labourer, sat in a no-frills bar watching a new Facebook video made by a bearded, muscular man who claimed to be in Iraq.

The man, called Steven Gern, said he had asked local Iraqis what would happen if he took a walk in town and they had replied he would be snatched, tortured and beheaded on video. This being so, he claimed, why should he let Iraqis into his country? Kline, gripping the phone in his tattooed hand, said: This is as real as it gets.

Trump recently told the CIA that he is in a running war with the media. Kline, who awards the president eight marks out of 10 so far, said: Mainstream media news is definitely partial. They put on what they want you to hear or think. Most people are not educated enough and they take things at face value.

The chorus of liberal outrage that greets Trump daily not only falls on deaf ears among his supporters but appears to harden their view that he is taking on a privileged, self-centred elite. Reflecting on the Womens March that followed inauguration day, Kline said: Youve got a lot of mommys-liberal-baby snowflakes that are used to having their way. Its like your spoiled kid not used to being told no. Once you tell them no, they dont know how to react.

Across town, Marlon Michael, 50, still has a Trump make America great again banner outside his home, part of a duplex with vinyl walls and flagpole with the stars and stripes. The country was going downhill and the rest of the world didnt respect us any more, he said. Trump vowed to bring all that back just like the old days. And the verdict so far? Michaels answer would be unthinkable in swaths of Manhattan: Hes doing wonderful. Hes doing everything he said hes going to do and you cant ask for more than that from a politician.

Democrats, activists and media commentators have denounced Trumps executive order banning travellers from seven Muslim-majority countries, both for its bungled execution and its sinister intent. Chuck Schumer, Democratic minority leader in the Senate, said: There are tears running down the cheeks of the Statue of Liberty tonight. Even Republican loyalists quailed.

A Reuters/Ipsos poll found about 31% of people said the ban made them feel more safe, while 26% felt less safe. Another 33% said it would not make any difference and the rest said they did not know. But Trump voters like Michael, a former US marine who works in home construction, give it a full-throated endorsement. It should have been done eight or 12 years ago, or after 9/11, he said. For the past eight years weve had a president that was a little lighthearted towards the Muslims. We lock our doors so people dont create havoc in our homes; its the same with America. Were shutting our borders so people dont create havoc.

Christianne Smith in a Hagerstown coffee shop. Photograph: Chet Strange for the Observer

Michael, too, watches Fox News CNN has too much false bullshit thats not true and Trump calls them out on it and has little but contempt for the Womens March. Fucking stupid. For what? What more privileges do you want? Women have equal rights. Theyll still be fighting for it till the end of time. Wearing a Dallas Cowboys T-shirt with an image of fingers in an up yours sign, Michael gives Trump nine out of 10. My only complaint is that I wish he would stay off Twitter.

The election demonstrated that, despite Barack Obamas plea otherwise, there are blue states and red states in America. But there are also blue and red counties. One of the defining splits in the election was between voters with a college degree and those without: according to the FiveThirtyEight website, Clinton improved on Obamas 2012 performance in 48 of the countrys 50 most well educated counties, but lost ground relative to Obama in 47 of the 50 least educated counties critical to her defeat.

Trumps debut in the White House has done little to heal the rift, with each side viewing his policies, pronouncements and antics through a rival prism. Sitting in a coffee shop in Hagerstown, Christianne Smith, 20, an African American student, gave him a score of two out of 10. Hes unfit, inexperienced, he said. He doesnt have the best interests of the people in America. I dont understand how he became president. Maybe its because I didnt vote. So its my fault.

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