#i’ve literally only gone to other countries as an exchange student or to go stay in a remote cabin

[bright-and-burning]

oh shoot i meant to post this before it got too late in the uk. what are like Cannot Miss things i NEEEED to do in england if i only have like. a week and change (after subtracting the whole race weekend of it all) to do stuff?

[teddy06writes]

sapnap x reader where the readers first language is greek and they confess to him in greek without knowing he speaks it too ? i love ur writing btw !! :)

sapnap x reader

first of all, this is such a cute idea and I love it, second of all, I DO NOT KNOW GREEK, so apologize in advance for anything google translate gets wrong

trigger warnings: some swearing, drinking

(y/n/n)- your nickname

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You’d first seen him from across the quad, whilst searching for a distraction from the boring chattering of your mother on the phone, the dirty blonde man also lost in conversation with the brunette who’d walked beside him.

You continued to watched them on their path through the mess of kids on benches or even the ground, tracing his familiarity to one of your lectures on software design.

What surprised you most, was when he looked over, and smiled at you, he’d caught you in the act of staring at him, and smiled.

You smiled back, not to be impolite, and were pulled back to reality by your mothers voice in your ear, “(y/n), είσαι εκεί? ή έχει πετάξει το κεφάλι σου στα σύννεφα;” (Are you there? Or has your head flown off in the clouds?)

“Είμαι εδώ μαμά.” (I’m here mama) you sighed.

~~

The next time you saw him was at a party some frat house on the other side of campus was throwing.

You hadn’t planned on going, seeing as you barley knew the boys in the frat, and your friends, well, at this college anyway, were nonexistent, but hey, free booze.

So that's how you found yourself, leaning against the living room wall, cup in hand, watching the beer pong game happening in the center of the room.

Taking another sip of your drink you did a mental walk of the room, making mental note of the people you knew, and then there he was again, definitely less than sober, calling dibs on playing the loser of the game.

You watched, amused as the game ended, and he quickly took the place of the loser, taunting the other guy loudly.

Three games (and several beers) later he was still winning, loudly yelling that he could beat anyone at the party.

Unable to help yourself you stepped forward, “I’ll have a go then.”

He looked you up and down proclaiming, “Easy win.”

You smirked, moving up to the table.

The game began, and his confidence quickly wore down, as all your shots either landed, or came very close.

The last few were neck and neck, but soon it was down to three left on your side, and only one left on his.  

Desperately, his first shot got one of yours and you quickly chugged it down, still smirking at him.

You raised an eyebrow as he lined up his next shot, and his eyes flicked to yours just long enough to cause him to miss.

You bit back a grin, easily sinking the last shot, “I’ve bested the beast.”

The people who had been spectating cheered, and the brunette who you’d seen with him before started to laugh his ass off, “They fucking got you Nick!”

“Yeah, I’m aware.” He sounded all too sober for someone who should’ve been that drunk.

You chuckled, turning and disappearing into the crowd.

A half hour later you were half way out the door, not bothering to pull on your jacket, the relative amount of dinking you had done still making your cheeks feel warm.

“Wait! Wait!” He- Nick, you reminded yourself, came half stumbling down the road, “I wanted to say good game.”

“That was half an hour ago.” You laughed.

“Still- i- sorry, what is your name?”

“(y/n), I’m in your intro to software design.”

“I’ve never seen you in there before,” He looked confused, “Which group do you sit with?”

“I don’t really have friends.” You shrugged.

Nick frowned, quickly holding out his hand for a shake, “Hi, I’m Nick, I’m your friend now.”

You looked at his outstretched hand confused, “Yeah o-kay. Your drunk, I’m tipsy and if I’m lucky you won’t remember this in the morning. I don’t really do friends here.”

He nodded as if paying attention, but then said, “You have an accent.”

You nodded, “Yup, I’m leaving now.”

~~

You didn’t see him again after that, for nearly three weeks, and you were beginning to think he really had forgotten, that is, until he approached out out side of the lecture hall, “Hey!”

“Yeah?”

“(y/n) right? Your the one who beat me at beer pong. And then walked away when I asked about your accent.”

You rolled your eyes, “You didn’t ask you literally just stated I had an accent.”

“Well I’m not wrong! I meant to ask why- well not why- just, are you an exchange student or?”

You adjusted your laptop bag on your shoulder, “This isn’t high school. We don’t have exchange students.”

“Well, are you studying abroad then?”

“I’m an American. I can’t study abroad in my own country.”

He looked slightly confused, “Sorry- it’s just with your accent I assumed.”

“I wasn’t born here if that helps.” You turned and started away, pulling out your phone as it started to ring, “Ναι μαμά; Έχω μαθήματα σύντομα, τι συμβαίνει;” (Yes mama? I have class soon, what's wrong?)

~~

“Why are you always alone all the time?”

You groaned, looking up from the firewall system assignment you’d been testing on your tablet, to see Nick, “I’m working.”

“And I’m asking a question,” He sat down at the otherwise empty table, “Why are you always alone?”

“I told you, I don’t have friends here.” You ran the breaker code again, seeing if it could illuminate any unseen holes.

“You were at the party, surely you knew someone there, otherwise you wouldn’t have gone.”

“σκατά“ You muttered, a new problem in the chain arising, “It was an open house party, I heard about it from people I know.” (shit)

Nick frowned, “Oh, thats-”

“Sad, tragic, depressing? Yeah I’m aware.” You sighed.

You saved the project, shutting off your tablet and looking around the empty cafeteria, “Isn’t it like, wicked late? Why are you here?”

“Why’re you?” he countered.

“World’s asleep.” You muttered, packing up the rest of your stuff, “Why do you keep making such an effort to talk to me?”

“Cause we’re friends remember? Shook on it.”

“I never shook your hand.” You grumbled, standing up.

~~

“You know that I’m right!” Nick exclaimed.

“Maybe! But I don’t want to admit it!”

Over the course of a few month Nick had crawled, kicked and wormed his way into your life, all but forcing you to become his friend, and surprisingly, you didn’t mind all that much.

Now you were sitting out on the roof of your dorm, looking up at the night sky.

“I swear your fucking nocturnal dude! Like an owl! And I willingly give up my sleep to hang out with you!”

You hesitated, feeling a sudden jolt of a realization, and as suddenly as a lighting strike, you were falling in love.

You fumbled to recover, “Well you’re the one who went out of your way to become my friend.”

“I mean, too be fair I was drunk.”

“But still went out of your way to be my friend once you were sober.” You pointed out.

“Hey, drunk me makes good decisions sometimes.” He laughed, looking over at you.

You let out a sigh, watching the white wisps of your breath drift up in the sky, “That’s the thing I’ve never got over.”

“What? Drunk me making interesting decisions?”

“The cold,” You said simply, “I’ve lived here half my life, but the cold still doesn’t make sense to me.”

He laughed, “This is Texas, it’s not nearly as cold as it gets up north. Snow’s much more common for now, up there.”

“I’ve never seen snow. Mama doesn’t like it much,” You laughed, “The first time I really heard about it it sounded so strange.”

Nick smiled, “Lets go up north during winter break then. I know people up there, we can go do winter tourist things.”  

“Winter tourist things?”

“Yeah,” He chuckled, “Go ice skating, look at lights, sleigh rides, all that.”

You laughed, “Winter Tourist things.”

~~

A month and a half had passed, your sudden change in feelings toward your only friend on campus had not.

If anything they had just gotten worse, and now, the thing you still couldn’t wrap your head around, you were tossing your suitcase into the back of his car, about to head on your way to the airport, because yes, the Winter Tourist thing stuck.

“Dude, I’m so excited! This is gonna be epic!”

You nodded, “You know, thinking about it, it actually is possible I’ve seen snow, like when I was little. It just never lasted long.”

Nick scrunched up his nose, “Well it’s too late to duck out now!”

“I never said I was ducking out.” You laughed.

~~

The trip had gone pretty well, the snow in the northeast was certainly different than that of Macedonia, but you didn’t think it was all Nick had said it would be.

Still you had enjoyed wandering around the city looking at Christmas lights, attempting to ice skate, and just enjoying each others company.

It seemed like every minute you spent with Nick, you teetered closer to the edge, knowing that by the end of this trip you’d be head over heels for him, if you weren’t already now.

Now you were quietly sitting on the balcony of your hotel room, hands cradled around the warm cup of hot chocolate you’d made, looking out into the swirling darkness above the city.

“You know your gonna freeze if you stay out here.” Nick moved through the door and sat beside you, draping part of a blanket around your shoulders.

“I know.” You sighed.

He looked at you, concerned, “What’s wrong?”

“Νομίζω ότι ερωτεύομαι,” You murmured, a quiet confession, more so to yourself than to him, “και αυτό με τρομάζει.”  (I think I’m falling in love with you... and that terrifies me)

You started to sigh as he looked confused, though only for a moment, because “Τι είναι τόσο τρομακτικό για την αγάπη;” He asked softly. (What’s so scary about love?)

You froze, almost dropping your cup, “ε-ε-ε, εσύ- μιλάς ελληνικά;” (uh- y- uh, you-  you speak Greek?)

“λίγο,” He smiled, “Είσαι ερωτευμένος μαζί μου;“ (A bit... you’re in love with me?)

“λίγο.” (A bit), you breathed, trying to ignore the small space between you seemingly shrink.

“Νομίζω ότι είμαι λίγο ερωτευμένος και εσένα.” He chuckled. (I think I'm a bit in love with you too)

Your breath hitched, and your quickly bridged the small gap between you to kiss him, smiling into it a bit as he kissed back.

“How long?” He asked softly when you pulled apart.

“When you first brought up the trip. You said that you were willing to lose sleep to hang out with me,” You chuckled nervously, “You?”

“Second week of school, you were on the phone with someone, and you smiled back at me,” Nick grinned, “I saw you from across the quad and knew.”

[keilemlucent]

i am your salvation

(r18+)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

word count: ~13k

For years, Keigo had trained his body, fucking perfected it’s abilities. Every part of him was honed and forcibly designed to be the winged-hero, Hawks. But, now? He was the defunct number two, ‘Hawks’ and at home— reality? He was the comically broken Keigo Takami who struggled to do basic physical therapy.

Only you know him like that.

warnings: manga spoilers, suicidal ideation, abuse, ANGST with a capital A, just sad :^(((

this piece is hellish, enjoy ;^))) beta’ed by the lovely @keiqos, bless u

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

Keigo was fucked.

He was so beyond fucked.

He was dead.

Basically.

He was half-alive in a hospital bed. An IV drip in each arm, pumping him full of god knows what. He didn’t care to ask. All he knew was that he fucked up.

He’d gotten sloppy.

Stupid.

Pompous. 

And now his wings were fried off his back.

(By fucking Dabi no less.)

 The first conversation he’d had with his doctor upon waking at the HPSC hospital was one where he legitimately contemplated suicide for the first time in a long while.

  “Hawks... There’s no good way to say this. There just isn’t,” The doctor began, looking through Keigo’s chart, sighing deeply. There was something so grave about the way he moved through the sterile hospital room.

The doctor handed him a handheld mirror. 

Hawks slowly raised it up with weakened arms, knowing what he’d see. 

A gruesome burn tore down the left side of his face. It puckered the skin around his eye, narrowing his field of vision (thank god he still had any vision at all). The soft flesh around his eye was so angry and blistered, pockets of puss gathering beneath the surface of his skin.

But what was worse than the scar, so much fucking worse, was the absence.

The complete absence of his wings.

No stubs, no nubs. Just nothing. 

His back ached against the hospital bed as he handed the mirror back to the doctor.

The doctor sighed again. He spoke to Hawks like he didn’t think the hero already knew what he was going to say, “Your wings are gone. Fully. The scans we’ve taken show that the... well, roots of them in your flesh are still present, they’re encased in scar tissue. Even the sections that the feathers grow from are cauterized. In our professional opinion, we don’t think that they’ll ever grow again.”

His heart fell in his chest. 

It fell so deep.

So far.

He didn’t let himself cry.

Instead, he contemplated how hard it would be to overdose on morphine they were undoubtedly dosing him with. 

The doctor continued as Keigo stared sightlessly at his lap, “As established, the muscles that control the roots of your wings are still intact, yes. But, they’re heavily damaged in a way that will affect your everyday life. Even without your wings, the recovery to stabilize your injuries is going to be strenuous.”

Who fucking cared.

Hawks had spent the vast majority of his life training to be a hero and now the very thing that made him the best was literally burned from him. It felt unholy. It felt awful.

Fire wasn’t cleansing, it was putrid. Desecrated was his body as well as his mind.

  He didn’t listen to much else of what the doctor said. He let himself go blank, wishing tears would fall. 

 ...

 That was yesterday.

Today, he was allowed visitors. His PA came, informing him that the Commission was putting him on extended, indefinite (thankfully, somewhat paid) leave in exchange for media appearances. They also informed him that half of the top ten were dead after the war with the PLF. Ryuku, Miruko, Edgeshot, Kamuiwoods, Crust, all lost. And countless others, too. Even some students. It seemed that there was no clear winner of the fight that took so many and changed so much.

One of the most hard-hitting pieces of news was that Endeavor was in a coma, on life support, with a brain injury that would most likely kill him. At best, he’d be a vegetable. 

Keigo felt nothing but hollow as he laid in his hospital bed. He was half machine, based on all of the tubes and monitors that he was hooked up to. He felt truly mechanical and falsely alive. Truly, he was used up. He wanted to die. He was sure of it. 

Keigo wanted to ask his PA to smother him.

He didn’t.

 The next person to visit him was you. His PA had informed him that they were legally obligated to see him first, otherwise, you would’ve been clawing his door down.

You.

Keigo didn’t want you to see him like this. All the reasons you had fallen for him were gone. There was no confidence, no lip, no charm, no drive, no stunning scarlet wings— nothing. He even had the bonus deterrent of a nasty scar covering half his face. He was so sure that you’d take one look at him and turn right out the door. 

Leave him for good. 

Maybe spit on him for good measure.

The old muscles of his wings twitched as you walked through the door. It burned like an old hell. 

You’d clearly been crying, face and eyes puffy. 

But you were strong for him.

You pulled a chair up next to his bed wordlessly. You sat, laying your head on his antiseptic smelling sheets and mattress. Your eyes went half-lidded, just barely looking up at Keigo’s terrified expression. You reached out, grabbing one of Keigo’s clammy hands. You squeezed it.

“I’m here, Kei’,” Your voice was so quiet. “It’s alright. I love you. I’ve got you.”

It made him break.

The machines that he was reliant on screamed as he desperately grabbed at you, dragging you up with the little strength he had. You pushed him down, moving to half kneel on his bed. You didn’t make Keigo work for your touch. 

You cradled his head to your chest as his scarred hands fisted your sweater. He screamed into your sternum. Keigo wailed and cried with everything he had. He was losing himself, raging for far more than just his current injury.

 He bawled for every single time he couldn’t in his hero training, forced to be broken by the demands of the Commission. He sobbed for every casualty and death that was on his hands, righteous or otherwise. And, selfishly, he cried for himself. He let tears fall in mourning for the version of himself that died by Dabi’s hand. 

He let himself shatter in your arms for the burning muscles and scars of his back, the ache of his face, and the emptiness and vulnerability that his lack of wings graced him with.

You more than let him; you encouraged it.

You stroked his hair, matted with sweat and grease. You whispered soft adorations, validations and love into his ears. He can hear your tears too, but it didn’t stop you.

“I love you, Keigo.”

“I’m here.”

“You’re safe.” 

“I’m not leaving.”

“I’ve got you, Kei’.”

“No one else will hurt you. I won’t let them.”

 You were far too late on the last one. But, you were quirkless. Powerless to stop the destruction that ravaged his body and now, his mind. 

Additionally, Keigo was relieved you didn’t say that ‘everything will be okay’. 

He knew it wouldn’t be.

You let him crumble against you for hours. 

Finally, he was spent, falling back in his bed, and letting you slump back into your chair. You took the liberty of finding a warm towel to wipe his face down with.

The rest of visiting hours, you laid your head on his mattress, holding his hand as he drifted in and out of sleep. Nurses came and poked and prodded him. They didn’t bother making conversation with either of you. 

They understood, to some degree. 

You were both together in mourning. 

A nurse came by later, night had fallen, telling you visiting hours were over. 

Keigo audibly whined.

You shook your head, running a thumb over Keigo’s knuckles.

“It’s alright,” You soothed both him and the nurse. “I’m not leaving.”

The nurse didn’t fight you, merely exited the room.

Keigo watched, awed. You retrieved a decently sized duffle bag and pillow that you’d brought (he hadn’t noticed). You set up a blanket and the pillow on a couch in the corner as a makeshift bed.

“Y-you’re staying?” Keigo asked, voice raw. 

You, somehow, smiled. So gentle and precious, nodding, “As long as you’d like me to. I told you, I’m here.”

Keigo relied on you for comfort in the past, sure. But not like this. Not like you were his anchor, tethering him to his existence now that his pride and preen were plucked from him. You were his salvation in that hospital room. You were the ground that he desperately and necessarily needed to learn to walk on.

 You both fell asleep quickly, dreaming of better things outside of your waking nightmare.

 ---------------------------

 Keigo was discharged two weeks later.

It is thoroughly confirmed that, unless by some medical miracle, his wings were truly toast. Gone for good.

The Commission brought in at least a dozen folks with spectacular healing quirks. Truly, the best the country had. Turns out, the Commission was clawing for hope too, in the wake of everything.

The efforts were in vain, of course.

Nothing stuck. 

The scar tissue wouldn’t shrink. The damage was too severe. The cauterization was so intense, it altered him. Forever.

 You stayed with him the whole time.

You went home, just a bit, maybe an hour a day. You showered then, changed clothes. 

You’d come back and do what you had been the whole time.

Just being there.

 You didn’t make him idly chat or make him watch shitty, hospital cable. You let him ruminate, stew, and simmer. You let him be crushed.

You were smart enough, empathetic enough to know that nothing you could do or say would lift him right now. 

He just needed you there.

And so, you were. 

 After being discharged with several prescriptions, orders to limit activity to allow for his other injuries (and concussion) to heal, the two of you went home. 

 Your first task was Keigo getting properly washed. 

At first, Keigo resisted.

“N-no, I’m fine, I’ll take one tomorrow,” Truthfully, he wouldn’t probably, not without your help. He just didn’t want you to see him so intimately in this state.

You shook your head, speaking as you brought several plush towels into the bathroom. You turned to Keigo who had wrapped his arms around his frail-looking form, looking at the floor.

You brought him into your arms, rubbing at his neck, not wanting to aggravate the injuries on his back, “I know you don’t want to, but it’ll feel good. Let me take care of you, please.”

You spoke so earnestly, it made Keigo fall apart. He hated being so helpless. 

He nodded against you.

You sat him on the toilet seat while you ran a bath in Keigo’s spectacular tub. You poured in epsom salts and some lavender bubble bath, filling the room with a familiar, herbal scent.

You helped him strip, mindful to not linger on any part of his body. Carefully, you lowered Keigo into the water. He could help but be surprised by the strength in your body to do so. Perhaps foolishly, he had never taken you as physically strong. After stripping yourself, you got in as well, across from him, so you wouldn’t see his scars. You were perhaps a bit too considerate.

The water burned his wounds, yet calmed his muscles. It was a different sensation than the ones he’d had for the past weeks. He welcomed it.

Keigo sagged in the bathwater, looking somewhat relaxed for the first time in so long. You knelt in the water and suds, lathering up his hair and body. So carefully did you wash away the sweat, smells, and lingerings of the hospital and the war that preceded it. You went through his hair with your own conditioner, figuring that the familiar smell might help keep him calm. Keigo didn’t say anything, just let you do as you needed. You carefully untangled any and all knots from his tresses, rinsing him down.

You dried him off, putting a few scented body oils on his dry patches of skin, parched from his time in the hospital. You still didn’t look at his back.

He felt ashamed and thoroughly disgusted. He smushed his face into your shoulder, gripping onto your like if he wasn’t, he’d die.

You find him fucking repulsive, right?

 “Kei’,” Your voice quiet still, “You okay?— Wait, don’t answer that.”

You chuckle at yourself. Keigo would’ve laughed too if he could. 

Keigo dressed himself, a semi-self sufficient act that made him feel better. Though, you picked out the clothes. Some of your own, soft, old garments that Keigo had seen you in a hundred times. 

It was only before he put on a shirt that you gave his back the quickest once-over, “You can put your shirt on now, Kei’. I just wanted to make sure it looked okay. It’s okay, you’re okay.”

Even that much sight and contact of the old roots of his wings made him feel so ashamed. It burned the corpse of his ego like the hot fire that crisped his wings. 

Despite those nasty feelings, the simple act of wearing your shirt made him feel better. It felt so good, so good, to be surrounded by you instead of the sterility of the hospital. 

 You had been kind enough to leave the hospital for a bit longer than normal the day prior to go shopping. You bought Keigo a large, fluffy, ivory blanket. You even washed it, so it smelled like home (and you) too.  

After you helped him to the wide couch, custom made to accommodate Keigo’s now torched wings. It was a small burn (ha) to his psyche, but he tried to let it go as you got him comfortable.

You gave him your special pillow. The one Keigo loved to steal and take naps with. You covered him in the new blanket.

“Is that okay?” You asked, tucking him in. Keigo would normally be embarrassed by something childish like that, but he couldn’t make himself care. It felt so good to be comforted. 

 So softly, he replied, “You made it feel like home already.”

You let a sad smile drift to your face, massaging Keigo’s scalp as he sobbed into his new blanket. 

He was so glad to be surrounded by you, no matter how rotten he felt. 

 -------------------

 The first week home was the hardest. Sleeping was painful, even next to you. Eating was a fucking labor as he had no appetite. Nothing interested him in the slightest other than staring at walls and pretending he would wake up from this nightmare soon.

An at-home physical therapist was brought in. He had to retrain the muscles in his back to relax, now that they weren’t carrying the weight of his wings. The constant tension in his back would cause long term damage (not like he wasn’t already riddled with chronic injury), least of all tension headaches. 

Your job let you work from home. Thank god.

...

Keigo hated his exercises. They hurt so bad.

For years, Keigo had trained his body, fucking perfected its abilities. Every part of him was honed and forcibly designed to be the winged-hero, Hawks. But, now? He was the defunct number two, ‘Hawks’ and at home— reality? He was the comically broken Keigo Takami who struggled to do basic physical therapy. 

Only you knew him like that.

 Keigo’s fists slammed against the floor as he strained with his PT exercises, the therapist themselves long gone for the day. You worked from your laptop on the couch. You weren’t supposed to aid him with his exercises unless necessary, as the therapist had instructed.

“Do you want me to help you?” You asked, almost coaxingly. 

Keigo beat his fists once more, crying out almost like a petulant child, (he hated himself for it oh my god—), “I don’t want to fucking do this! I can’t do this!”

And Keigo sobbed into the floor with abandon.

You moved from the couch to haul him into your arms, pressing his face into your neck. You said nothing, you just let him scream and die against you.

“I can’t do this!” 

“I hate this!”

“Make this fucking stop!”

“Just make this all fucking stop!”

“JUST FUCKING KILL ME ALREADY!”

This got you to speak, not shushing him, but just trying to soothe—

“IF YOU REALLY FUCKING LOVE ME, THEN YOU’LL SLIT MY THROAT IN MY SLEEP AND LET THIS FUCKING NIGHTMARE BE OVER!—”

 You froze. 

He didn’t.

Keigo kept begging you to kill him. 

Incessantly so.

He didn’t know what to do.

This was a tantrum, maybe. More like a breakdown. It felt dramatic. But, his thoughts were real. He’d be happy to die, especially by your hand. Then you wouldn’t have to take care of him and he wouldn’t be able to feel as awful as he did. 

You kept holding him, squeezing him harder and harder still. 

Finally, Keigo tuckered himself out and sagged against you. 

 You reached up to the side table, grabbing your own glass of water, and offering it to him. You still hadn’t spoken.

Part of him thought to apologize, crack a joke even. But he couldn’t make himself do either. Instead, his shaking hands grabbed the glass. You didn’t fully let it go, just guided it to his lips where it dribbles down his chin. 

Keigo sputtered a sob.

He couldn’t stand being so weak.

 “Love,” You spoke so softly as he sipped. “I will never hurt you like that. I won’t let anyone else, either.”

Keigo suddenly started fucking laughing, for the first time in so fucking long, ripping the cup fully from your hands and throwing it across the room. It shattered in a wild display of raining glass and water. He hadn’t laughed in what felt like months. He let it loose, grabbing your face and directing it right at you, breath curling over your cheeks.

He knew it was cruel, to take it out on you. He hated himself for it even as he was doing it.

“How the fuck do you think you’ll protect me?” Keigo cackled into your face, horror beginning to overtake your features. He didn’t care. It felt good— “You’re just some stupid, weak, quirkless civilian— how the fuck do you think someone as powerless as you can protect me when I can’t even protect me—!”

 He kept laughing, but he was crying. He couldn’t tell which was which. Keigo could only tell he was hysterical.

 This whole time, since he had woken up in the hospital, you had been nothing but the perfect partner. You had been so kind, asking for nothing in return.

And yet, he’d verbally strike you like this for no other reason than his own hurt.

How fucking cruel.

 You let Keigo go, unable to disguise the pain in your expression. You didn’t say anything back to him. As you left the room, you were covering your eyes with your arm. Keigo caught one of your sobs as you fled to the bathroom, almost slamming the door. 

 Keigo heard your muffled cries for hours until you fell asleep on the bathroom tile as his old burns and guilt ate him alive. 

 He tried his exercises again. 

 -------------------

 That night, Keigo was too deep in sleep to hear you enter your shared bedroom. Part of you didn’t want to sleep next to him. You thought about returning to the bathroom or moving to the couch. But, you couldn’t make yourself. 

Keigo’s words hurt so bad. 

Partially because they were cruel. They gnawed at your insecurities, the fears you were desperately suppressing for him. 

Partially because you hated the fact you couldn’t do more, despite already doing so much. 

Partially because you knew that Keigo would never say things like that to you if he wasn’t being eaten up on the inside. 

Partially because the love of your life asked you to snuff his life out. 

It all hurt. Stung. Ached. Burned. 

 There was a small detail that hurt in a different way.

He called you quirkless.

You weren’t quirkless.

Your quirk was so weak and so taxing, sure. It was basically unusable. For fucks sake, you never even bothered to tell Keigo directly as you never used it. He had access to citizen quirk records, and you figured he checked in the several years the two of you had been dating. Apparently not.

But, you did have a quirk.

You stood next to your bed, Keigo covered in the comforter and soft white blanket you’d gotten for him. You could see the peakings of his back. His skin was marred with burns, cuts and scars that looked unimaginably horrible. You’d been avoiding looking at it, for him. You’d seen how it made him cringe.

But now with Keigo sleeping so deeply? You took it all in.

You looked at the nearly black scarring where the roots of his wings were. The fanning out of puckered, red skin from the burns. His back, which once rippled with the muscles that controlled his crazily powerful wings, was now a charred plain. 

...

You had an awful, far-fetched, fucked up idea. 

You sat, sinking into the bed as you contemplated your idea.

You brought your hands to your face, concentrating on your fingertips. 

Small, tiny vines and green shoots left your fingers.

There’s absolutely no way that this will work.

But, you’d hate yourself if you didn’t try.

 Life reclaimed life, you supposed. 

You drummed up a half-assed plan. It was a weak, frail idea— it would need a lot of support. Even then, you didn’t want to give yourself false hope. You couldn’t give Keigo false hope. It would ruin him.

...

You’d have to fix your diet. Eat lots of nutrient-rich food. Take more vitamins too.

You slotted yourself next to Keigo who, in sensing your warmth, turned into you, pressing into your front. His head nuzzled into your chest, an arm wrapping around your waist. 

You heard him wince at the motion, flinching in his sleep.

You had to try. 

One of your hands went to his back, brushing down the comforter to reveal the particularly gnarly scars where Keigo had lost part of himself. You laid your hand flat on the fire-flayed skin, praying you don’t wake him. You concentrated, watching small greenery go from your fingers to his flesh, desperately trying to repair the damage that had been done. 

 ------------------------------------

 Keigo apologized to you the next morning. He clutched your chest and told you how sorry he was. He told you how he knows he’s acting out, he’s just so fucking sad—

You told him that he didn’t need to justify himself. Not to you. Though, you accepted his apology and asked him to not say those kinds of things to you again.

“I’m trying my best, and I know it's not enough sometimes... but it's all I’ve got,” You speak to him in your own small voice. One that portrayed a weakness that you hadn’t shown since Keigo had been injured.

He felt even guiltier. 

 But, the second week was better.

His exercises were getting easier. Eating came a little better too. You started cooking more, not getting as much takeout. Part of him missed the comfort of familiar street foods, but another part of him craved the home-cooked meals you made so much more. They helped him feel better too, packed with veggies and lean proteins. 

Keigo didn’t notice, he was far too out of it, but you were already looking more haggard. 

It came with using your quirk in general, let alone to the extent you were pushing it. It was a pitiful quirk and you’d never strained it half as far as you were then. 

It had a price. 

To heal others, even something as small as a paper cut would take from your own body.

And, you were dedicating at least thirty minutes a night to attempting to ‘heal’ (read: reconstruct) the tissue of Keigo’s back. You had to start so deep in his muscles; it hurt to push your quirk that far down. Within the first five minutes, that first night you tried, you were silently crying from exertion.

But, you didn’t relent.

Each day, it was a little easier.

Sure, you had bad nights where it was extra hard. You blamed it on not eating well enough, using up too much of yourself during the day. 

It was a shitty excuse, notably. Your quirk was weak and self-destructive, it was beyond your bodily capabilities. There was no way to tell if it was even working to heal Keigo’s body. It was a gamble. 

And your wager was your health and body.

Even eating optimally and taking a bevy of new vitamins each morning before Keigo awoke, you could tell your physical health was suffering. You were losing a bit of fat already. Dark circles were punched under your eyes from the exhaustion. You had developed the slightest shake when you moved.

And the worst part was, you knew that you’d only get weaker from here on out.

So, you upped your calorie intake. You kept careful track of the foods you ate, the same with Keigo’s. He didn’t seem to mind the delicious meals you now coveted crafting, no matter how tired you were. If he was eating better, it would probably help you too, right?

You could only hope, resting it all on a long shot. 

 --------------------------

 Week three was good, but hard. 

The HPSC commission forced Keigo to do a media appearance. He told them, bluntly, that he couldn’t fake it right now. Probably, forever. 

They told him to suck it up, get out there, and put some hope into their society that was being pulled apart at the seams.

Keigo refused to let you come. He didn’t want to think about how you’ll look at him when he’s all dressed in his hero uniform, wings absent from his back, forcing him to bear the two empty slots of his jacket. 

When he mentioned it, you offered to sew them up.

Keigo felt horrible, but he just gave a nod, handing you his jacket without looking at you. 

You stitched the slits shut for him. Keigo requested red thread for the stitching and you obliged him.

 (You made note that Keigo truly had no hope. You couldn’t tell him a thing about your quirk usage until you were positive that it would have results.) 

 The media appearance went okay. Not great, but okay. ‘Hawks’ was dead, and Keigo was not a performer like he was. Though he still went by his hero name, his real name only known by himself, the Commission, Dabi (may he rot in hell), and you. He coveted that you had the intimacy in knowing his identity, but it felt dirtier now that Dabi (Touya?) had that name in his throat as well.

 When Keigo came home from the media appearance, he was keyed up. He flitted around the apartment while you made dinner. There was an anxiousness in his movements.‘Hawks’ would’ve taken to the skies to fly off some of this fractious energy. Keigo just had to wait for food to be ready and pray that the feelings went away. 

Just before dinner, he decided to try exercises outside of the one his physical therapist assigned him. He was feeling energetic enough, right? Might as well pull out some of the easier moves from his hero training. 

Keigo moved to his now seldom-used at home gym. He picked up a dust-covered five-pound weight and proceeded to try and curl it. The moment Keigo brought it above his head, his back tensed and burned something fierce.

The weight fell from Keigo’s hand, half-thrown, luckily missing any and all of his toes and feet. 

He cried in frustration, stuck staring at himself in the wall of mirrors. 

Keigo truly thought he looked pitiful.

He was still wearing his hero uniform sans the jacket. He’d lost a lot of muscle mass with his more sedentary state. His hair was too long. He had gotten more pale, losing his few freckles. His eyes were bloodshot and his teeth curl over his lips in a snarl—

“Keigo?” You opened the door to the gym, eyes wide with shock, but your tone didn’t change. He just glowered at you from the mirrors. You spoke again, staring him down with an almost scarily neutral poker face. “Dinner’s ready. Would you like to eat? Otherwise, I can save it for you.”

Keigo didn’t reply. He went back to trying to pick up the weight, screaming each time and hating how his back burned so intensely.

You left without saying anything. 

 ---------------------------

 Week four was hard because you and Keigo’s relationship is beginning to suffer. Or, it had been, but it was reaching a fever pitch. 

Keigo’s lack of human contact, lack of physical activity, and general cabin fever were getting to him. He was lashing out more and you, kind as you were, were having trouble dealing with it.

Your own run downstate was eating you alive, literally. No matter how much you put into your body, you needed more to heal Keigo. You were up to two hours a night of working at Keigo’s tissue with your quirk. By the end of your ‘sessions’, you would simply pass out and fall into listless slumber. You were losing a lot of sleep each night, but you were determined to keep going. 

Your exhaustion, in general, was making you a bit more prickly towards Keigo’s increasing frequent outbursts.

It all came to a head on a Sunday night.

The two of you were curled up on the couch, half-cuddling and half-watching TV.

A notice for breaking news showed red on the screen.

Both of you tensed. Before Keigo’s injury, he’d be rushing to throw on his hero gear and fly to help. Now, he just sat next to you, stiff as a board with pin-pricked pupils.

A picture, pre-PLF injury Endeavor flashed on screen.

“The Hero Public Safety Commission has just made the press release the former number one hero, Endeavor, is no longer in comatose.”

You watched a real, happy smile, spread on Keigo’s face. For a moment, there was a sliver of hope—

“But, he still remains in critical condition. Due to injuries affecting his central nervous system, he is reported as being in a state of paralysis. As of now, his life still hangs in the balance, though he is lucid.”

Keigo stiffened again.

There was rage painting his face. 

And pain. 

You stiffened with him.

You did not have it in you that night to deal with one of Keigo’s explosive moments. 

“Endeavor has left us all with this message—”

The camera flashed to an old video of the old ‘number one hero’, healthy and strong with a fist raised in the air.

You braced for impact as Keigo stood, shoulders hunching over.

Endeavors voice washed over your living room,

“Go Plus Ultra!”

And Keigo, honest to god, shrieked.

He fell to his knees and beat the floor beneath him. He slammed his fists in the hardwood over, and over, and over again. You slipped to the ground with him, trying to grab at his fists.

“Keigo, you’re gonna hurt yourself—” You tried to tell him. You managed to capture one of his fists, urging it to stay down-

But, you looked up to see Keigo giving a feral look with a frenzied, white-hot sneer all for you. 

 And his free fist flew towards you. It connected hard and solidly to your jaw.

You hadn’t been expecting it. Keigo had never struck you before, not even close. For fucks sake, he had never even raised his voice at you before his injury.

So, how could you expect to brace yourself for it?

The force of Keigo’s blow knocked you back. You jolted, falling onto your side and turning your head to the side, away from Keigo.

You brought a hand up to cup and shield your face, your jaw and eye socket throbbing. 

All you could feel was shock.

And sadness.

And horror.

And anger.

And terror.

 Keigo snapped out of it.

The news report was still playing, but he couldn’t hear it.

There was only the rushing of blood in his ears.

His mouth turned bone dry.

He had watched you move with his strike, falling more to the ground, hiding yourself—

“Oh my g-god, (Y/N),” Keigo’s voice was slippery and warbling. “I-I d-didn’t—” 

“No,” You stood up, still holding and hiding your face from him. His heart was crumbling in his chest.

You looked at him with only fear and heartbreak.

Keigo scrambled up, trying to apologize, hold you, mend this before it got worse—

But you put the hand that wasn’t cupping your face out, just barely touching his chest. You refused to let him any closer. 

“H-hey Kei’?” Your voice sounded so, so shaky. It’s hardly there. You were holding back tears and it was so obvious. It made every part of Keigo burn with shame. “I can’t today. Maybe another day, I could deal with this, y-ya know? But not today, okay? Have a g-good night.”

You walked away before he could say anything else.

 You dashed off to the guest room, shutting and locking the door before falling against it and breaking. You cried and rocked yourself as you tried to self-soothe your shattered body and mind. 

The month prior had been so hard. The person you love was hurt so deeply, and though you were trying with everything you had to help, it didn’t seem like enough. You were getting verbally beat up semi-frequently and now Keigo had fucking hit you. 

You were scared. You were terrified that this would become the norm. That Keigo’s outbursts would continue to worsen, as they had been, and you would become a physical punching bag for him.

It especially hurt because you were trying so hard to help Keigo. 

You weren’t delusional enough to think you could really fix him, were you? 

The fact that you were secretly and silently trying to regenerate Keigo’s body with a quirk he didn’t even know you had struck you bluntly in your mind.

“I’m just so fucked up, aren’t I?” You laughed and sobbed to yourself at the same time, slamming your head backward on the door, relishes the pain that floods your skull. It was a reprieve from the bruises blooming across your cheekbone. 

You eventually managed to cry yourself to sleep, literally. You curled up in a ball on the floor next to the door, worn down to the bone.

 In the early morning, far before dawn, you pulled yourself into half-wakefulness. 

You were relentless and you were coming to hate yourself for it.

You needed to work on Keigo, no matter how you shitty felt.

You crept into the master bedroom, trying to be silent. You didn’t want to wake him. Only when you were fully in the room did you notice a soft lamp is still on despite it being early, early morning. 

Wide awake and upright, Keigo looked horrified to see you. He looked at you, shaking and half-sobbing into a pillow he clutched to his chest.

You both seemed shocked to see each other. 

You sniffled as you turned off the lamp, stripping down to just a t-shirt and panties before climbing into your side of the bed.

You refused to face him while he was awake. You got as comfortable as you could (which wasn’t much). 

There was half an hour of disgustingly awkward silence. It coated the room, bearing the two of you who refused to sleep. 

“I’m s-sorry,” Keigo had yet to move. He was frozen in place as you were turned away from him in the dark. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N).”

Silence.

Your mouth felt dry and your mind parched. 

“Keigo,” You spoke like a being empty. You truly felt like it too. “If you ever touch me like that again, I will do worse than just leave you.”

It was a threat.

You let yourself have it, in all of this. You deserved one low blow. 

Keigo slowly slid down into the covers, babbling apologies and beginning to cry again. 

“Stop, Kei’,” You finally turned towards him, cupping his face. He blinked at you, eyes wide and glassy. “I love you. Just stop. Apologizing doesn’t make something like this better. I can’t do this if you keep hurting me, you know that. Just be better.”

Keigo winced at that. He knew it was true, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t painful.

You fell asleep on each other that night. You let your headrest nestled up against Keigo’s chest. He breathed softly above you, arms wrapped securely around you, holding you tightly like he was afraid you’d leave. You wouldn’t. You made the decision to stay at the beginning of all this. Your threats would always be empty. 

Idly, you had an arm thrown over Keigo’s waist, snaking up the back of his shirt to press your fingertips against his scars. Your roots and greenery didn’t have to go as deep now, as far as you could tell.

But, it had been a month with no discernable progress, visual or otherwise. 

But, you held onto hope. 

Because you had to hold onto hope that Keigo would get better. 

All of him.

 -------------------------------

      The second month was... different. 

Keigo tried with his whole heart to earn back your trust.

You flinched at him for the first week or so. 

He hated himself so fucking much each time you did. But, he never blamed you. He couldn’t.

(Even as you twitched away from him in the daylight, you tirelessly worked on his scars in his sleep. You couldn’t give up, no matter how awful you felt). 

Keigo did his exercises several times a day. He made a few more media appearances but refused to be seen with Endeavor. He (and truthfully, the Commission) knew that he could not psychologically handle it.

You were rapidly getting weaker, but you didn’t care. You ate more, slept when you could, and pushed on. You were up to three hours of healing a night. Tears rolled down your cheeks the whole time.

You were clinging to the prayer that you could unburn Keigo’s back like it would save you from your personally made hell. 

This was despite the fact he was already crawling out of the pit himself. 

 Your existence was eased slightly as Keigo was starting to help out more. 

Keigo wasn’t anywhere near normal— normal Keigo was dead in a disintegrated building, miles from your shared home. But, he was getting better.

 His muscles felt better. He wasn’t sure how, but they did. His PT exercises must’ve been working. The outbursts he had thrown so often during the first month pittered out to maybe once or twice a week. They were calmer now. You were still his anchor, of course, that was undeniable. But, it was mostly crying and clutching and not screaming and breaking.

It was a welcome shift.

Most of the time, Keigo would pull you into his lap and wrap you in his embrace. Softly, he’d sway and rock the two of you, like he was trying to lull and calm not just himself, but you in tandem.

A lot of the time, this was true. 

Your flinching subsided and Keigo had no more close calls with any physical violence towards you. In a few high strung moments, he still snapped at you. He’d apologize, and do better. At least, you told yourself that. That’s how you saw it anyways. 

Keigo was thoroughly traumatized. His mind was an open nerve and that had consequences. You were so endlessly tired. What kind of wounds and trauma were you incurring?

You forced yourself not to think about it. 

 Part of you, during this month, wanted to simply pack a bag and leave without a trace. 

But, you stayed with Keigo. You stayed determined. 

(Or, you stayed out of spite. On your bad days, you really had trouble figuring it out.)

Your body looked like shit. You were endlessly glad Keigo still wasn’t in a position to be having any sort of sex because he probably would’ve noticed how fucked up your body was getting.

You shook constantly, always quaking like a leaf in a rainstorm. Your skin bruised with almost any contact beyond light touch. Your eyes, once vibrant and expressive, had sunk in. 

Your body, no matter the several thousand extra calories you forced yourself to eat a day, still ran through your fat reserves. It was leeching muscle from you. It made your joints feel raw. 

 It almost hurts that you noticed how Keigo is so pained, but he didn’t notice you falling apart.

 -----------------------

      The third month was when shit hit the fan.

It was near the end of the month. 

You were doing so badly. You stretched yourself far beyond your body's abilities. 

You felt particularly sick, but you needed to get groceries. Keigo couldn’t himself for a host of reasons, which made it your job. You kissed him on the cheek as you left for the market.

Meanwhile, Keigo’s physical therapist dropped by for a check-in appointment. 

Keigo did his exercises beautifully. He had to admit, his muscles didn’t ache in nearly the same way they used to. They only really hurt when the weather changed, like he was some old, arthritic man. 

“Wow!” His therapist gasped, watching him complete his exercises. “It’s looking great, Hawks. It looks like you’ve gained back a lot of strength.”

The small amount of praise made him beam as he sat up. 

“I just want to check the actual wounds around your back, if that’s alright? Just feel the scar tissue,” The therapist asked. Keigo bit his lip, slowly pulling off his tee-shirt. He didn’t like the idea of anyone’s hands being that close to the intimate roots of his dead wings. 

But, it was necessary.

Keigo faced his back to her.

All he got was an audible gasp as the therapist’s hands traced at his spine.

“The progress back here- Hawks this is insane,” The other was alight, pressing a thumb somewhere near the root. It hardly even hurt. “The scar tissue— it’s not gone, but it's a lot more tender than it should be. Like it's actually healing.”

“Is that why it doesn’t hurt so bad?” Keigo asked, letting a few slivers of joy light him up from the inside out. During his initial prognosis, multiple doctors had said that he was going to be on fire for years, not months. 

The therapist nodded, “Looks like it. Even the scarring on the surface looks pretty good. Must have some damn good genes to be healing like this.”

The two laughed, Keigo feeling more lighthearted than he had in months. 

 You, on the other hand, were greatly struggling. 

You were so, so fucking cold; yet another bi-product of your overextension. You were wrapped in an oversized cardigan on top of one of Keigo’s mock necks. You couldn’t stop trembling as you try to shop as quickly and effectively as possible. Anything to get you home as soon as possible. 

You had a great deal of difficulty doing this, though.

If you moved too fast, your vision blacked out. It had been like that for a while, a week or two. You’d lost track. You figured it was your iron, maybe blood pressure. 

It was an easy thing to hide at home, but much harder in public.

You reached for something high on a metal shelf, tossing it into your cart. You needed another item, on the bottom shelf. You dropped to your knees, your body aching and rolling.

Almost done.

So close. 

Then you can go home and rest.

You stood up too fast. Your vision went black ringed for a second. You stumble, trying to catch yourself as you lost sight. 

You felt weightless for a moment, spinning, Though your limbs felt weighed down, impossible to move. As your vision returned, its field wouldn’t move, pointed up at the ceiling of the crowded market. 

There were people speaking, shouting around you.

Alarmed.

Speaking to you?

You didn’t care.

You were so, so tired.

You let your eyes slip shut.

 ------------ 

 Keigo had been waiting for you for several hours longer than it took to go grocery shopping, sure. And, to have you gone from the apartment so long made him itch too. It had been eating him, making him pace around. You hadn’t been answering your phone either. He figured you had made a detour and let your phone die.

 When he received a call from the local civilian hospital about you, he feels his blood freeze in his veins. 

“You’re listed here as (Y/N)’s emergency contact as a partner, yes?” The nurse asked. “They collapsed at a local market. They’re stable, but we’d recommend coming to the hospital as soon as you’re able to.” 

Keigo nodded, head swimming.

You’re hurt.

You’re safe, but you’re hurt.

...

Keigo was whisked to the back of the hospital in a poor disguise. He gets recognized, given some extra security. The scar that marred his face was enough of a marker even if he didn’t have wings. He hardly cared. He couldn’t. 

Your door opened to a very dark room, soft beeps and hums filling it. 

He imagined that he must've been feeling close to how you felt, seeing him in such a similar position those few months ago.

The nurse enters ahead of him, clicking around on a tablet to pull up your chart.

Keigo could hardly pay attention. He felt like he was going to die, seeing you like that.

You had an IV, pushing fluids into your thinned arms. Your face was hollow looking, sockets sunken, especially with your eyes closed like they were. You had several blankets on you, piled over you. Yet, you were still visibly shivering.

The nurse whispered, “They’ve been asleep for a while now. A doctor will be in soon. Just sit tight.”

She left the room while Keigo pulled a chair up to your bed. 

The smell of the hospital burned his nose. It reminded him far too much of his own time. All that pain. 

The ache in his back flared, but he figured it was somatic.

 Keigo reached out as he sat, holding one of your frail-looking hands in both of his own (had you looked this purely death stricken this morning? Keigo couldn’t recall either way, and he hates himself for it).

Your eyes slowly opened.

 Keigo met your gaze, breath caught in both of your throats.

Neither of you got a chance to speak, not a moment of fucking comfort, before a doctor barged in, flipping through your chart with a bored look on his face.

“We finished up your testing. Lucky for you, no concussion or fractures from your fall,” The doctor nods. He doesn’t even seem to notice Keigo, or rather, Hawks. “The rest of your results aren’t looking so great though.”

Your hand stiffened violently in Keigo’s grip. Your face went from worn and exhausted to filled with terror and... guilt?

 You were fucked.

The doctors and nurses had mentioned to you that they were fairly certain that all of your symptoms came from quirk overuse. You started weakly crying at that, your nurses looking confused. You didn’t elaborate then. You knew, the moment you woke up in the hospital that you were going to have to confront your own damage to your body.

You were going to be forced to explain it.

To Keigo.

The doctor continued. 

“Low levels of nearly all essential vitamins and minerals. Particularly low iron, magnesium, and potassium. In general, your test results and physical state would lead me to think you’re suffering from malnutrition. But, your panel shows that your metabolic rate is actually going abnormally quickly in a way that could only be linked to-”

Wait for it.

“Quirk overuse-”

Keigo barked out a laugh, letting go of your hand, “I’m sorry, but what? They’re quirkless, it has to be something else.”

 You didn’t say anything. Your eyes, glassy and unfocused, are trained on your lap. You’re taking sharp, quick breaths.

You’re going to have to tell him everything.

 The doctor flips through your chart again, shaking his head and bringing it over for Keigo to look at, “I apologize if this seems out of turn, but they’re listed in the public files as having a quirk... It’s marked as a weak healing quirk, but all the same, any strength of quirk has overuse.”

Keigo is stone still.

There’s tension so thick in the air of the room that the doctor excuses himself. 

 Keigo, for months now, had been in a traumatized stupor. His normally sharpened senses, aided by his wings, were the key to so much of his cunning. Both his physical and mental states were affected, which had made him less observant.

It had caused him to disregard so much. 

 But now, in your stupid, acrid hospital room, he was quickly putting it together. 

His back burned again. 

 You felt frozen. You couldn’t force yourself to move. You couldn’t do anything other than look at your lap and roll in your head. Your body hurt so bad, your head hurt too, and so did your fucking heart.

 “Can I clarify? Because I think I have an idea of what’s going on.”  Keigo had physically moved away from you. He leaned back in his chair, staring down with a mix of expressions you couldn’t suss out. It made you feel even sicker.

You nodded.

“Breath, (Y/N),” Keigo reminded you. He watched you take a massive inhale, followed by tears beginning to gather. You still wouldn’t meet his eyes. 

 “Have you been... using your quirk on me? Without me knowing?” Keigo asked, trying to keep his voice firm, but truthfully, it wanted to waver and bend so badly. “Please be honest.”

You nod, breaking down to rub at your eyes. 

Keigo doesn’t stop the instinctual way he moved towards you, leaning over your bed and wrapping his arms around me.

With his cheek pressed to the top of your head, he broke the illusion:

“Please tell me what’s going on. Please.”

And so, you did.

It came out tearfully, you spilling and cracking as you did. You felt stupid and guilty and awful, but at least you were out of this fucked up lie. 

It all poured out of you. Your fear and your desperation were all laid out and Keigo was reading the cards.  

You explained that your quirk has always been weak in addition to taxing on the body. Hence, you had seldom, if ever, used it as an adult. You were effectively quirkless and you were okay with that. Keigo had never asked so you never told him. 

You tell him, voice shaking, what happened the night Keigo had pleaded with you to kill him.

“I-I, Kei’,” You push out, pressing your face into his shoulder. “I didn’t know what to do. You were so hurt and so sad and I had this stupid fucking idea that maybe, maybe I could use to my quirk to heal you.”

Keigo’s breath catches. He doesn’t say anything for a moment before asking, “Why didn’t you tell me? Ask me?”

“I didn’t know if it would work. I still don’t know if it does. It didn’t wanna... I didn’t want to get your hopes up. E-especially since it would’ve been coming from me.” You pressed harder into him like you’re scared of him disappearing. “You were already so crushed.”

Keigo didn’t know what to say. There was a swirl of emotions bubbling and writhing in his body and mind and he didn’t know what to say for the first time in a long time.

 So he didn’t say anything.

Keigo sat back in his chair, putting his elbows to his knees, using folded hands to rest his head on, parsing through his own feelings.

“K-Keigo?” You asked, wiping a tear away. As much as Keigo hated seeing you like this, he also recognized your state was by your hand. 

Right?

“Sweetheart, I love you—” Keigo stopped himself, sighing deep in his chest. “But, I can’t... I just need some time.”

 You nodded, tears coming back to drip down your face.

Keigo just watched with a neutral expression.

 -----------------

 Despite not being able to handle talking to you, Keigo was more than willing to help you out of the hospital. You were discharged with a prescribed diet and vitamins as well as a followup appointment in a few weeks. 

“And, most importantly,” The doctor made eye contact with you. “Don’t use that quirk of yours until further notice. Honestly, with it being so destructive, I can’t understand why you would in the first place.”

You burned with shame.

The night you came back from the hospital, Keigo took incredible care of you. He didn’t talk much during it, not to you anyways. He was nearly constantly speaking under his breath, all unintelligible. From his tone and myriad of expressions, you guessed he was verbally processing. 

Keigo gingerly gave you a bath, scrubbing away the smells and stickiness of the hospital. He managed to cook you one of the nutritious recipes you had shown him a few weeks ago. You sheepishly had to ask for another portion, explaining how your metabolism burned so quickly.

“Have...” Keigo finally spoke while making you another plate. “Have you always been eating this much?”

You nodded, sipping your water, “For a long time, yes.”

He hated himself for not noticing such obvious things. 

 Keigo kept carrying you from place to place, no matter how much his back hurt. He didn’t care. He couldn’t.

He laid you in bed at some point, sliding in next to you. He still hadn’t spoken much since you’d left the hospital. 

You had tried to babble apologies and beg for forgiveness, but selfishly, Keigo wasn’t listening. He was trapped in his own head. Even when you clung to him in the bath, he could hardly make himself hold you up from sliding too far into the water. 

It almost hurt to touch you.

 It was late when Keigo finally verbally, directly regarded you. 

“Why?” Keigo asked. You’re both turned away from each other. The bed had been vibrating with your harsh breathing and crying for an hour or so now. “Why did you do all this?”

You stop shaking, but only for a moment.

Your voice is so soft, weak, “Please don’t blame yourself. It was my choice.”

“That’s not what I asked.” Keigo could hear the anger in his voice. “Why. Did. You. Do. This?”

You’re silent for a moment. 

And then you’re sitting up, yelling.

“Because I didn’t know what else to fucking do!” You gripped your hair at the roots, pulling. “You asked me to fucking kill you, Keigo! You begged me to!”

Keigo sat up, staring you down. He felt so much anger and rage in him, it was bubbling up, “That doesn’t mean you had to hurt yourself like this for me!”

“I didn’t want to hurt myself! I wanted to help you! Using my quirk was all I could do!” You looked over at him, digging your nails into your exposed thighs. “What else was I supposed to do!”

“Exactly what I thought you were doing, helping me!” Keigo screamed back at you. “You were doing so good at it!”

“You wanna know why I could even help?!” You shouted. You grabbed Keigo’s shoulders and brought him inches away from your face. “Because, every night, I got to give myself just a shred of hope that you would get better. That maybe, maybe your wings would come back and you’d smile like you used to instead of yelling at me, and hitting me, and asking me, begging me, to slit your fucking throat!”

 You couldn’t stop crying. Your body was so run down, so depleted, but it still musters up the energy to drip tears like a flooded creek. You wanted to run and leave the bed, retreat to the bathroom where you can break down on the tile in peace, alone where Keigo wouldn’t have to watch. You’d done it enough prior to know he wouldn’t check on you.

 Keigo stared at you with wide eyes. 

He didn’t know what to say at first

He was feeling so much—

 Keigo didn’t know what to do or say.

So, he just twisted the knife, one could say.

 “You should’ve just left if you were really that miserable with me.” Keigo regretted it the moment it left his lips. You tense up, looking at him with a gaze he could only call broken.

 “No,” You grabbed your shoulders, rocking yourself. “No, Kei’, I couldn’t, I won’t—”

“Then stop complaining.” Keigo shrugged. God, this was awful, wasn’t it? Why wouldn’t he just shut up? “You’re the one who stayed and tortured yourself. That’s on you.”

“So you’d rather have that I... left?”

“Duh,” Keigo laughed, staring down your crying form. You’re so decrepit in your current state. He hated looking at you, purely because he knows he was at least a portion of what led to this. But, he’d never admit it. “Fuck, (Y/N), you didn’t have to kill me, and you didn’t have to kill yourself either.” 

 He’s splitting inside as he watches you break in front of him. Some fucked up, sadistic part of him relishes it. The other, muted, more sane part is screaming at him to stop fucking talking-

“You really got yourself hospitalized for overusing a quirk on me that I didn’t even know you had. You were so desperately trying to get me my wings back, all while acting soooo supportive of me trying to live without them?!” Keigo bellowed at you. You cowered, bent legs beginning to slide off the bed — “Do you realize how fucked up that is? That, behind closed doors, while I was fucking asleep, you were trying to fix me? Well, guess what, (Y/N), I’m broken beyond fucking repair, and no cute little shit you pull is going to fix me!”

Keigo shrieked his last words.

You fell off the bed, slamming onto the floor. A sickening crack filled the room as your head, basically unsupported, met the hardwood.

 “Stop it!” You were screaming yourself silly from the floor. Your head hurt so badly. Maybe you were bleeding. You didn’t care. “Stop it!”

You knew you couldn’t handle this.

You were raw. You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t confront any more than you had already that day. Your body hurt so badly and your mind hurt too. Everything Keigo said just rubbed salt in the wounds he helped to create.

“Keigo, just fucking stop it!”

Your vision spun. You thought that maybe you were hyperventilating. You couldn’t feel your hands, numbness beginning to pull at your extremities. 

“I’m fucking sorry!” You wailed. “What would do if you were in my position, Keigo?! Just watch me suffer and not do anything even if you could?!”

Keigo leaned over the bed, giving you the most empty look you’d ever seen him wear. 

“I would’ve just fucking left, (Y/N),” He spoke in a monotone, eyes like dead coals. “I would’ve just left.”

You stared up at him.

This horrible feeling had filled you from toes to top and you couldn’t escape it.

 Keigo didn’t say anything else as you panicked on the floor. He simply got up, left for the guest room, and slammed the door.

 Neither of you ever felt as awful as you did that night.

 --------------------

 Keigo didn’t sleep that night.

Neither did you.

 He figured (he hoped) you’d be gone by the morning. Maybe you would just pack your dusty suitcase and get the fuck out.

...

Truthfully, not a single fragment of Keigo wanted you to leave. No piece of him wanted you to go out of his life. God, if he really thought about it, the prospect of not being side-by-side in this world together threw him into bends of anxiety and pure grief. 

Truthfully, as Keigo silently, tearfully, examined your actions, he felt his anger ebb away.

He understood. 

Why you did what you did.

But it didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt. 

Guilt was eating him, too. For all the horrible things he had said. The things he’d done that hurt you without regard for months now. The fact he never noticed you deteriorating. And all the nights you crept back into your shared room, for comfort and to keep trying to help him, though perhaps cruelly. 

 It was dawn when Keigo exited the guestroom. He figured that you were either gone or would be soon.

He was clearly mistaken.

Keigo stopped when he saw you at the kitchen table, head down, and resting on your folded arms. You were wearing a huge sweater, one of his, and a blanket around your shoulders.

Keigo had, incredibly selfishly, somewhat forgotten your physical state.

He ached.

 “I made coffee,” You said quietly. You looked up, meeting Keigo’s gaze with bloodshot, puffy eyes. “It’s still warm.”

“Why are you here?” Keigo asked, heart starting to beat too fast again. “Why haven’t you left-?”

“Do you really want me to leave?” You asked with an unfamiliar edge to your voice. It’s not anger or malice, but something different. You stand, bracing yourself on the table, wobbling. Keigo wanted nothing more than to scoop you into his arms and apologize. But, he doesn’t. 

 You looked at him with this edge of fierce determination, asking the penultimate question, the core of this all, “Keigo, do you want me to leave because of my actions, or do you want me to leave because you don’t think you deserve help?”

There was a poignant quiet over the apartment. 

The birds of the new day interrupted it from outside, chirping with the eos of dawn.

“I don’t think... I—” Keigo was speechless again, stuttering. “You shouldn’t have hurt yourself so bad.”

“That’s been established, I went too far. I should’ve told you, offered and asked, and go from there. It ultimately was a complete breach of boundaries and for that, I’m sorry. Fuck my good intentions, it was selfish.” You squeezed the edge of the table, eyes low. Your gaze turned up sharply to meet his, that edge of determination and fierceness in it that Keigo was unfamiliar with. “My question is, do you want me to leave?”

Keigo stared at his feet. His head was swimming, “You should leave.”

“I asked if you want me to,” You asked again. You were being more firm than you had ever been. You sounded unbreakable. It was that stubbornness that kept you there with him, right?

Keigo met your eyes with a sharp glare, “You should’ve left the night I asked you to kill me.”

You sighed, shaking visibly, but still keeping yourself so strong, “Please just answer me. Do you want me to leave? If we’re going to break up, let’s just call it that, and get it over with, okay Kei’?”

Oh, hearing you say ‘breakup’—

That broke Keigo. 

Having to truly think and reckon with a reality where you weren’t with him and you weren’t facing the horrors of the world together was purely the stuff of nightmares. 

The stupid little facade Keigo had so carefully crafted broke. The burns on his body started to ache anew, somatically. The scar over his eye twitched as tears were gathering anew. 

“N-no,” Keigo hugged himself, shaking his head. “N-no— I don’t want you to go—” 

You didn’t say anything, just watched him with a sad expression.

“Then I won’t.” You sat back down. “Keigo, I know that this is all fucked beyond belief. I know. But, I won’t leave. I really, really don’t want to. I won’t, not unless you want me to go.”

And Keigo was breaking for you again. 

He somehow stumbled next to your chair, managing to fall to his knees and rest his head on your cold, cold thigh. He pressed his nose into your flesh, trying to fucking absorb your smell like you could disappear any moment. 

“Why did you do it-” Keigo sobbed into your skin, nails biting in the flesh of your calves. It made you jerk in your seat. “WHY DID YOU HURT YOURSELF FOR ME!”

You didn’t have a good answer for him, so you didn’t reply. 

Keigo’s grip on the flesh of his leg started to break skin as he wailed into your leg.

You just looked down at him with this expression of pure remorse,  melancholy coloring your eyes.

You grabbed his clawed-hands, recalling the last time you tried a move like this with a twitch. You held his hands in your own, pulling him up, “You can’t do that, Keigo. You’re hurting me.”

“All I DO is hurt YOU!” Keigo crushed you into a tight hug, knocking the wind from you. You jolt forward into his death grip. 

 “It was my choice,” You remind him, so much weakness in your choice. “A very, very selfish one. If I was going to try to heal you, I should’ve asked.”

You started crying with him. 

You both were just torturing yourselves, truthfully. 

 At his core, Keigo was a fucked up man who was so thoroughly repressed and manipulated, it was hard to see his psychological shortcomings. They were all so meticulously hidden. 

But not then, not after losing his wings.

“I’m so fucked up,” Keigo kept crying into you as you had his hands locked together. “I hate myself for being this upset at you when you were trying to help me.”

“Love,” Your voice was so soft, releasing Keigo’s hands to pet his hair. “It wasn’t right for me to try and do what I did. You can’t help how you feel.”

“I could before I lost them!” Keigo muffled himself with your flesh.

Them being his wings, obviously. 

You hauled him upwards, forcing him to sit in your lap. Keigo had always had a bit of size on you, but in your shrunken state, it was even more pronounced. 

“Then you weren’t feeling,” You pressed your face to Keigo’s chest, wrapping your arms around his waist. He entangled himself with you, and you both just held each other for a long, long time.

 ------------------------

In the following six months, a many very important things happen.

Keigo got a place for you for two entire months, just so you two have some separation. After actually having a calm talk about your relationship dynamic since Keigo’s injury, it was comically apparent there were so many fucked up things that had happened and that you both needed a bit of time to collect yourselves.

It was a hard separation, but you still see each other at least half of the days of your time apart, and even a few that you snuck over for the night to stay over. Keigo was so, so thankful. Being wrapped in each other was a different experience, something actually healing. 

You both got therapists, next. A couples therapist too. 

Thank God. 

Keigo had oodles of trauma to sort through, and you had your own shit to deal with as well. Not to mention the whole ‘Keigo being a dick to you because he was hurt doesn’t justify it’ kinda broke your brain for a second. Also, Keigo having to process ‘he was capital A abusive to you after he got hurt, and your only stability being the hope in healing you is much more complicated than just them trying to ‘fix’ you’ was a case of note. 

It was weird, really. 

 When you moved back, fully, to Keigo’s (you weren’t sure if you could call it ‘your’ apartment anymore), it was nerve-wracking. It was under the understanding that you could move out if you needed to, that separation and an ending were just a corner away.

It made you feel more unstable than you had in months, but you kept up with it. 

Keigo noticed, much more observant than he had been. About two weeks into you returning to the apartment, he asked the question, “What if we moved?”

You had been quietly eating your breakfast, but this startled you, “Move? Why?”

“I mean,” Keigo sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. His gaze flickered to the living room, recalling the times he broke down and was so awful to you. It shifted to the bedroom door where you broke boundaries over and over. “A lot of bad stuff happened here. If we’re going to have a fresh start, might as well live somewhere new, right?”

You mused on it for a moment, then nodded, “Yeah, that would be good.”

The next few weeks were the most healthy and productive that you and Keigo ever had, pre- or post-injury. Apartment hunting turned into purchasing a two-floored, highrise, insanely nice condo across the city. Keigo suggested buying a house, but you refused. You both liked the views too much to live somewhere so close to the ground.

You packed your things, mutually. You both threw away plenty, bits and bobs that had been relatively unused for a long time. Lots of old memories were thrown out to make way for new ones. Though it was sad and there was plenty of grief in it, you actually had each other this time. 

When you found Keigo sobbing, clutching an old picture of him and Touya, one of the only of him from his childhood with the Commission, you held him and rocked him. You cried with him, not just settling for ‘dealing’ with him anymore. 

When you cleaned out the kitchen, you found the two dozen extra vitamins and extracts you had been taking while healing Keigo. You stared at him, idly, for ten minutes, somewhere far off in your head. Keigo came up behind you, wrapping his arms around you. Softly, he pulled you back from your mind. He helped you throw away each bottle, talking reverently to you so your gaze and mind would stay in that moment, and not those past and unsavory.  

You helped each other, or, were learning to.

 You and Keigo both had to agree that shopping for furniture was probably the most fun the two of you had in a while. With a facemask and a beanie on, Keigo appeared a lot less like his former self, allowing for the two of you to covertly search for new homewares without prying crowds.

The old apartment had originally been Keigo’s from his early years of being a hero. You simply moved in with him, adding yourself to his space. This time, you were making it together. 

 “What do you think of this one?” You turned to Keigo, next to you. Both of you laid on top of a fairly nice mattress, the store relatively empty aside from the employees and the two of you.

“I think it's good, it’s not too soft,” Keigo turned and smiled at you, speaking from behind his mask. 

You couldn’t help sitting up, tugging the cloth mask just a bit lower to drop a sweet kiss on the side of his mouth, “Get out the credit card then, babe.”

 The condo was sorted within a few weeks, full of furniture and slowly being decorated. 

You also had the opportunity to christen the mattress, if you will.

...

How long had it been since you and Keigo had laid together like this? 

Your bodies were sticky with sweat and cum, several rounds having passed throughout the night. Your new mattress was going to need a fresh change of sheets after this.

“Hey, angel, come over here,” Keigo tugged you closer to him, laying your head on his chest. You smiled softly, pressing closer. You missed it, truly, the warmth of his body and the feeling of his skin on your own like this.

“Alright, check-in,” Keigo pressed a kiss to your damp forehead. “You feeling okay?”

“I feel great,” You hummed, throwing a leg over his waist. “I can honestly keep going.”

“Should you?” Keigo raised an eyebrow and chuckled, nudging a knee between your legs. You flinched, knowing how sore you’d be in the morning already. 

Though your body had recovered somewhat, you weren’t fully back to where you were before Keigo’s injury. You didn’t mind, though. Keigo had taken to doting on you a bit more than he used to. 

You shrugged and Keigo just chuckled, bringing you ever-closer. 

“Are you okay?” You straddled Keigo’s hips, cocking your head to one side. 

Keigo was silent for a moment, stormy almost. He bit his lip, tracing hands and eyes over your figure, finally landing on your face. His softened hands cupped your jaw. 

“Yeah, I’m okay,” His thumb rubbed over your lips. There’s something so melancholic about him. “I just missed you.”

You knew exactly what he meant by ‘miss’.

 It was a feeling beyond sex, but rather intimacy. Sure, Keigo had been balls deep in you for the first time in months and that was ecstasy you wouldn’t trade the world for. But, this feeling Keigo regarded was different.

It had been so long since the two of you had been so softened around each other.

Guards, after months of being raised high, had begun to fall.

  Thank God.

 Your eyes watered as you lowered your face to his, ghosting your lips over his, “I missed you too, Kei’. I missed you so, so much.”

 How many minutes of hell had your both endured? And how many were there still to go? Thoughts of fear and anguish constantly swirled within the two of you for so long. They certainly hadn’t stopped, but they were lessening. Therapy helped. Being in the new place with a fresh start did wonders for the two you. Keigo’s passion for cooking continued to grow and you had taken up a few new hobbies of your own. 

It was the mundane, you supposed, that was the stitching for broken relationships. The real healing of proverbial flesh and bone was intimacy, vulnerability, and love.

“Hey, Kei’,” You kissed him breathless, once, twice, three times. “I love you, you know? A lot.”

“Yeah?” Keigo giggled, something high and light that he wouldn’t have released a year ago. “I love you too. So much.”

 The night continued in tender fucking, the two of you visibly watching wounds begin to grow smaller and scar, no more fire, and no more forced stitchings. 

Salvation came from time and small things, you supposed, half-asleep and nestled neck to Keigo, feeling better than you had in a long time.  

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

     You supposed, some time later, that karma gave the two of you a small gift. In the eyes of all things, it must’ve been just a spec, but God, it was something. 

     ...

They had come back over a year and half from when you had tried to heal Keigo. 

The attempt wasn’t forgotten, no, but it certainly wasn’t at the forefront of your minds like it used to be. Except the one morning that Keigo got up before you, sleepily yawning his way to the bathroom.

You heard his sharp gasp, loud exclamations in your half asleep state.

“Babe?” Your voice hoarse with sleep, you spoke. “You okay?”

Keigo jumped onto the bed, straddling over you and the comforter. 

“(Y/N)!” Oh, his eyes were wet. Soft, gooey tears were streaming down his face as he shakily grabbed your wrists. He pressed them to the scars of his back.

Your eyes went wide as your hands brushed against small, soft feathers. 

“Keigo!” You shouted, sitting up, urging him to turn around so you could take a better look. 

Keigo trembled as he bared his back to you. 

Your breath caught as your hands trailed down his marred flesh.

The scars, old and worn now, had faded a great deal. The charred plain calmed with time, perhaps by your own touch and very much so by Keigo’s own cells and flesh.

But, in the center of his back, where the roots of his wings once were, was something growing anew.

Small, burgundy feathers were growing from spindly looking, down-covered bones and skin.

They were small, nothing like his old wings. More aged, with their darker color. The feathers felt softer as you ran your hands along the largest, no bigger than your hand from wrist to tip.

Keigo shuddered.

“Do... Do they feel like they used to?” You asked, transfixed.

Keigo shakily shook his head, “N-no, they feel less sensitive I think. They feel different.”

...

 As Keigo had healed and changed, so had his body.

His wings never grew to their own old size and power, not even close. They couldn’t support his own body weight, so Keigo never flew again. But, the feathers, wine-colored and almost bruised looking, could be sent to do small tasks, much like his old ones.  

At first, it seemed cruel. After so long and so much, his wings grew back but in such a decrepit form. For days, the two of you waited and waited to see what the final form of his regrowth would be. In the end, at their best, they stretched out to about the span of Keigo’s arms. The feathers weren’t symmetrical either, even at their peak regrowth. Some grew in fluffy and rounded, while others were jagged, sticking out awkwardly from the rest of his form. 

Over time, the inherent disappointment and despondence turned into appreciation.

Because they had come back, it just took time. 

...

With enough time, Keigo wore them proudly, no matter how oddly they stuck out from his marred skin. Keigo’s body was still too damaged to do hero work proper, but he still was kept around.

At the end of the day, the feathers colored like dried blood represented something far larger. If the completely destroyed number two hero could come back to even a fraction of his former, angelic glory, that was something, right?

It was like in the eyes of all things, you were both awarded a physical manifestation of healing. The gnarly wings that grew from Keigo’s body may have been off-putting to some, but to the two of you, it was a testament to it all.

It just took time. 

[its-ya-boi-autumn]

Butterflies/Chapter 7

Hello again! I am SO SO SO sorry for the wait. I guess I had more to write than I thought I did, school started up again, and then a bunch of stuff happened with a close friend, so I nearly didn’t have time to finish it. But here it is, chapter 7, this took way too long to finish, and I’m sorry 😂 it is literally 4 am, I hope you enjoy this ~

Celestia’s eyelids fluttered closed, her head leaning into her hands on her desk. Her temples throbbed with the thoughts running through her head from that morning. What was he thinking right now? She was sure he was upset about having to stay an entire night with her, but he didn’t seem too off about it. He still gave her that gentle smile and told her to try and have a good day, right? A sigh resounded in her chest. Celestia couldn’t help but feel guilty for asking him to come over in the first place. She should have known better.

Despite her terrible feeling, his voice still bounced around the walls of her brain. The gentle melody replaying over and over again. Such a sweet sound. His words hummed in her ears, creating a warm feeling of comfort in her stomach. It made her smile subconsciously. Try to have a good day. Even after the shit show that was the previous night, he still managed to be sweet to her.

A slam shook her desk and her head. She jolted up, opening her eyes to meet Mrs. Sheila’s dark brown ones. The mere displeasure swirled in the pools of her iris’s.

“Dozing off again are we Miss Fae?” Mrs. Sheila’s voice screeched. The noise hurt Celestia’s ears so bad she thought they would actually start bleeding. It was so shrill compared to Chrollo’s pleasant lilting. Celestia tried to keep her eyes wide open to look as if she hadn’t been dozing off. She was still tired from waking up so early, however, she knew better than to pass out in a class. Especially this one.

Celestia shook her head, desperately reaching out for the words to try and explain herself. Mrs. Sheila didn’t seem the least bit accepting of the answer she wasn’t given. She stood at her full height, a tall woman with a long neck and dark skin. Her graying hair pinned up neatly into a too-tight bun to give her a sophisticated appearance. Pair that with her strangely tight-fitted dresses and her awful triangular glasses and you had what everyone would call “The Witch”. Though very cliche, the name suited the woman almost to the letter.

“Care to explain just what you were doing then?” it sounded as if she had shrieked her vocal chords to the point of maximum volume, though Celestia knew all too well the woman could be louder.

“I-I haven’t been feeling well,” she started, averting her eyes from the woman in front of her to pick at her cuticles again, throwing the thin layers of skin onto the carpeted floor, “I’ve had quite the headache this morning. I apologize for the disturbance Mrs. Sheila.” Celestia noticed she had begun to shake with how distressing the situation was becoming. Other students had begun to stare, curious as to why their lecture was being stopped. To most, it might not seem like much of a big deal, however, in Celestia’s case, detention was very much a big deal. She had no idea what her father would do to her if he had to leave work early to come and get her from school. If he would come and get her at all, that was.

An irritated groan came from Mrs. Sheila, almost childish. She rolled her eyes, setting the book she used to ‘wake’ Celestia up with back on her desk. The woman briskly stepped over the carpet to the wall phone near the door of the room. She smacked her finger against the keys, typing a number in. Celestia felt the tears already welling in her eyes.

“Hello Mr. Otis, I have a sick student down here, are you free?” she had called the nurse. It was better than the school dean for now.

“Yes... Okay, I’ll send her down immediately.” and she hung up without a thank you or a goodbye, tramping back to her desk for a slip. Celestia didn’t stand until Mrs. Sheila finished scrawling over the baby blue slip and slammed it down on Celestia’s desk.

“You can go nap in the nurses office until the end of class.” she spit down at the girl. Celestia made to grab her bag to leave.

“No no! You can leave your things here and come retrieve them when class if over. I’ll have a few words with you when you return.” she clamored on. Celestia released her bag strap and nudged her chair back, pushing it in quietly before quickly leaving with her head down. The paper crumpled in her small hands. She couldn’t even bring her phone to text Chrollo while she was away in the nurses office.

Mr. Otis’ office wasn’t too far from the history wing. Just a few hallways down and she could find all of the school offices in one spot. She kept her head down as she rapped her knuckle on the open wooden door. Mr. Otis glanced up from his paperwork, grumbling to himself in an irritated manner.

“What is it now, Fae?” Celestia could already hear the many complaints he’d have about her. Celestia often came down to the nurses office complaining of stomach aches and fatigue from not eating enough at home. Though, she never told anyone of this out of fear from her fathers reaction of the ‘news’.

“I haven’t been feeling well this morning... my head has been throbbing all day.” she picked her head up to look Mr. Otis in his miserable eyes. The man seemed so tired. Deep wrinkles created the illusion of age though Mr. Otis was only in his early forties. His short stature didn’t help either, what with his scoliosis that he never stopped complaining about to go with it.

Mr. Otis sighed loudly, turning to grab some equipment off of his desk. Celestia stayed where she was, waiting for him to perform the minor procedure he did on everyone else. Mr. Otis set up the thermometer, sheathing the long tip with a plastic covering to avoid the spread of germs from other students. He wasn’t merciful in anyway as he stabbed the frenulum under her tongue with the tip. Celestia refrained from gagging. Mr. Otis closed her mouth by clamping his hand under her jaw and forcing it up.

“Don’t bite down! You’re gonna ruin my equipment child!” he grouched. Celestia couldn’t open her mouth to protest that she hadn’t been trying to. After a quiet beep, Mr. Otis ripped it out from under her tongue and squinted down at the numbers on the screen. He rolled his eyes.

“Your temperature is perfectly fine kid, but I know Diana isn’t letting you back in that damned classroom.” he pushed a button to shoot the plastic covering off of the thermometer into the mini trash can under his desk. He hobbled over to a doorway leading into a dark room. He flipped a light switch on to reveal some blue beds with no pillows, paper placed over the leather to keep everything clean.

“I’ll let you lay down until class is over I guess.” he mumbled to her, holding the door to the room open. Celestia bowed to him in thanks even though it wasn’t custom at the school, or in her country in general. She just felt it was a kind gesture. She stepped into the room, Mr. Otis shutting the door behind her with a loud slam. Celestia jumped, looking back to see him through the window, sitting back down at his desk and continuing his paperwork.

She turned her attention to the room, then down to the slip in her hand.

He didn’t even take the slip...

Celestia bit her lip softly, grinding the skin between her teeth. She checked the clock above her head on the far wall. She only had about twenty minutes. Gulping, she sat down on the bed, the paper crinkling noisily underneath her. She tried to stay quiet in the room as not to disturb Mr. Otis during his work.

Celestia laid her head on the bed, trying to relax against the stiff leather. She curled her legs up against her chest, her hands folding under head head to form a makeshift pillow. She tucked the slip into her hands so she wouldn’t forget about it before she left to go back to class.

The bed was awfully uncomfortable. Celestia tried several times to adjust without making too much noise, though she figured now that Mr. Otis most likely couldn’t hear her anyway. The walls and the door were pretty thick, so noise wouldn’t travel very easily. Time was moving slowly and by this point she was starting to become anxious about her phone. What if Mrs. Sheila had gone through her bag? Though she wasn’t supposed to, Celestia wouldn’t put it past the woman to get into any students’ business just to get some sort of leverage to get someone in trouble.

What if she found Chrollo’s number? It would have been the first contact in her text messages. They hadn’t exchanged anything vulgar, though if Mrs. Sheila found out and ended up telling Celestia’s father, Celestia would be screwed even more than she already was. A detention on top of a strange man messaging her was like asking for death on her part.

She tossed and turned, the paper practically torn off the bed by now. Celestia knew Mr. Otis would throw a fit about it, but she was beginning to feel drowsy. The throbbing in her temples had calmed down from the less intense lighting and the relaxation of laying down. Finally able to close her eyes, she made an attempt to sleep soundly.

~§~

The door to the dimly lit room clicked, allowing the floral lighting of the nurses office to flood in invasively. Celestia turned back over, sitting up and adjusting her skirt.

“Your time is up kiddo, the bell’s about to ring. Better get a move on before that woman raises hell on me.” Mr. Otis griped lowly. He kicked the doorstop under the door so he didn’t have to sit there and hold it open for her. Celestia felt a pang of regret pierce her chest. She had passed out, yet it felt like she hadn’t relaxed enough. She could never relax though. This new individual in her life had begun to create a type of stress in her that she didn’t expect. She felt as if Chrollo couldn’t be found out about. He was special. She wanted him all to herself.

Celestia let herself stand, dusting off her skirt and tugging on her shirt to rid of anything else. She quietly stepped out of the room, standing in front of Mr. Otis. He gave her an annoyed glance.

“Um... you have to sign this still...” she set the slip in his desk, her hands shaking violently. Mr. Otis let out an exasperated sigh, snatching the paper up and scribbling his name and the time on it. He threw it back at Celestia who caught it in the midst of its flutter towards the floor. She didn’t hesitate in leaving the office immediately, wishing Mrs. Sheila hadn’t forced her to leave the classroom in the first place.

Her steps were quick through the halls, eager to get back to the room before the bell rang. She’d rather not be stampeded as she tried to enter. Just in the nick of time, Celestia had made it in front of the door, avoiding the force of it as it swung open heavily. Student poured out in the hallway, not even noticing Celestia pressed tightly against the wall. A few bags had managed to hit her in the chest and the face. She raised her arms to block them, but to no avail. Eventually the hallway cleared enough for her to slip back into the classroom.

Mrs. Sheila was sitting at her desk, her back completely straight and her eyes narrowed down at a stack of papers on the desk. She glared up at Celestia.

“I thought you wouldn’t come back.” she tsk-ed, setting the papers aside and folding her hands on the desk. Her mouth quirked in an annoyed manner. Celestia picked up her bag first, placing the straps over her shoulders before standing in front of Mrs. Sheila’s desk.

“I apologize, Mr. Otis-”

“No more excuses out of you young lady, I’ve had it this afternoon.” Mrs. Sheila cut Celestia off with the smash of her hands on her desk. Celestia jumped back, covering her mouth to hide the gasp that barely managed to still in her throat. Celestia felt Mrs. Sheila was being a bit over dramatic, though she kept the bought to herself. The Witch stood to her full height to appear dominant over Celestia. The method worked with flawless excellence, forcing Celestia to feel the utter superiority before her. With her hands planted firmly on top of her desk, she leaned over into her face.

“Care to explain why you were falling asleep in my class Miss Fae?” she tilted her head, blinking rapidly. Celestia remained in her position with her hands pulled up defensively to guard herself as if the woman would strike her. She had no words. She hadn’t been trying to, the light had just been bothering her. Of course, this wouldn’t be taken as a real answer. She’d be accused of lying again.

Mrs. Sheila stood waiting for her answer. She never got one. She scoffed, sitting down again and opening a drawer behind her desk.

“Fine then, you can explain in detention after school this afternoon!” she slapped the slip onto her desktop. In bold black letters at the top of the half sheet, DETENTION was written with a date and time, Celestia’s full name scripted in bright red ink in the bottom right corner.

Tears burned her eyes again, her hands suddenly deathly cold and trembling even more than she thought possible. She couldn’t do this. This could absolutely not be happening. She couldn’t afford a detention. She’d had a perfect record and made sure she strictly stuck to it. All of that was ruined. She’d get a call home. They’d tell her father. She was fucking dead.

“I will see you in my room after seventh period, understood?” Mrs. Sheila brought Celestia back down to reality for a moment, though her head still spun. She grasped the sheet shakily.

“Y-yes ma’am...” she whimpered. Her lips formed a tight line and she turned in her heel, ready to leave. She then remembered she didn’t have a late slip, meaning a tardy would now be piled onto her already growing misfortune. She would have asked, however standing in that room for even a moment longer may have given her panic attack more time build up and cause a scene. Celestia struggled to get her breathing back to normal before walking halfway across the school to get to her Robotics class. The teacher there was relatively forgiving, so maybe, just maybe Celestia didn’t have to take the tardy home as well.

The bell had just barely rang as she entered the room. Miss Woodley didn’t even notice Celestia walking in late. The woman wasn’t necessarily the nicest, but she was better than Mrs. Sheila. Woodley minded her business and really just gave the class time to work on their projects that they were given. She didn’t have a stroke when a student pulled their phone out of their bag to text someone, so long as they were doing their work.

Celestia did exactly that, despite the lesson for the day not having started. She knew she could have waited for a little while longer, but she needed to tell Chrollo what was going on.

You: My history teacher gave me detention and I have no idea what to do...

Chrollo: Well, did you do something to deserve it?

You: My head has been hurting all morning, so I closed my eyes to block out the bright lights and then she yelled at me, sent me to the nurse, and then when I came back to get my stuff she gave me a detention slip!

Her thumbs were shaking over the screen. Everything was going perfectly fine today and then she had to mess it up. All because she couldn’t keep her eyes open for a few minutes more.

Chrollo: Did they call your dad?

So he did know the urgency of this as well.

You: I’m not sure, but I wouldn’t doubt it all... knowing my history teacher, she likes to get kids in trouble.

Chrollo: I see... 

There was no response after that. She had nothing to say either. Stumped. She dropped her phone back into her bag and turned to pay attention to the lesson being given.

~§~

Celestia couldn’t help but tremble walking back down the hall. Instead of going to the bus, she would go straight to Mrs. Sheila’s classroom. The woman sat neatly at her desk, eyeing Celestia as she came to sit down.

“Your father called just before I had the chance to call him myself. He says he was made aware of your detention not too long ago.” Mrs. Sheila warned her. Her eyes widened. He called? How did he find out? She didn’t tell him during last period, the only person who knew was...

Chrollo.

She kept in her sigh of relief, and her excitement. She couldn’t be too sure it was him, though she had a feeling anyway. Her dad couldn’t have found out. He was at work, busy as a bee, unaware that Celestia wasn’t on her bus home.

Celestia nodded in response, showing she understood. She made to read the book for the time being, but The Witch had other plans.

“So, Miss Fae, are you ready to explain yourself?” she closed her laptop and turned all of her attention on Celestia.

“I told you the truth... earlier today. I just haven’t been feeling well lately. I’m almost positive I’m coming down with a cold, this morning I was experiencing the same thing.” she wasn’t lying at all. In fact, she was saying more than she wanted to. Mrs. Sheila had the same look as Celestia’s father, searching for something to turn against Celestia. Something to punish her with. Her eyes went to scanning over her desk. Celestia waited patiently for her to finish thinking, not bothering to say anything else and possibly ruin this chance.

“Fine then, if that’s the only explanation you’ll provide then I guess that’s all I’ll get out of you. You’re here until 4:30, use your time wisely.” the woman warned before writing down some notes for tomorrow’s lesson. Another sigh of relief washed over Celestia. She would thank Chrollo for his help.

She realized then that she didn’t have much homework to do and instead would finish what she had left of Endurance so she could start working on her presentation. There was only about two or three chapters left and being given the extra two hours would give her all time she needed. She may actually have been able to finish the whole thing in one go.

Now flowing with excitement, she hurriedly read through the last couple chapters of her book, reaching down for a pencil and paper in the process so she could jot down notes. A buzz zipped through her fingertips. She’d received a message. Celestia took a glance up. Mrs. Sheila was busy on her computer with her lesson notes. Celestia grabbed up her binder and pencil case, taking her phone with it. Chrollo’s name was on her lock screen.

Chrollo: Sorry to make it so sudden, but I’ll come to pick you up. I didn’t want your dad to find out, so I called in for you. I should have asked first, but it was urgent, I apologize.

Celestia smiled. She knew she probably should have been slightly upset about the fact that he didn’t ask. Though he said it was urgent. He felt she was important. Checking to see if she was still in the clear, she replied.

You: It’s alright! Thank you so much, I really wasn’t expecting that...

She let her phone sit in her bag, getting to work on her project. She wanted to talk with Chrollo, but her schoolwork still came first. She had to prioritize that in order to at least keep some sort of record going. Another hum from inside her bag signaled Chrollo’s response to her previous message. She let it sit, not wanting to break her focus on her notes just yet.

Celestia studied her rubric to make sure she was hitting every point she needed to for her presentation. Another buzz vibrated in her bag. She wouldn’t leave him this time, picking it out to check the message.

Chrollo: Alright, just making sure. I’ll be there around 4, okay?

Chrollo: Did you want to do anything afterwards? I figured you might want to hang out for a little since going home right away may not be the best.

She hadn’t even thought about that. She figured he’d just drop her off back home and then go on his way. This time, he had chosen to initiate plans with her.

You: Sure, sounds good. Do you have anything in mind?

Chrollo: It seems to be nice enough for a walk down the beach, don’t you think?

She did think so. She could see the sunshine flowing in through the window near the back of the room. The warmth felt nice on the back of her neck.

You: Sure, that sounds nice~

Chrollo: :)

After some time, Celestia could see that time had started to move a little faster than anticipated. Next thing she knew, her notes were completely finished and her slides ready to be started. All with twenty minutes left on the clock. A smile tugged at her plump lips. Her legs swung under the desk, eager to walk her out of the classroom to see Chrollo. He must have been here by now. Just at that thought, a buzz sounded beneath her binder.

Chrollo: Here now, sorry I’m a little late.

You: it’s fine, I don’t get out for another 20 minutes, don’t worry about it.

Chrollo: Really? That woman said 4!

You: Guess I would have been in more trouble then, she told me 4:30, my dad would have had me because of that...

Chrollo: :(

The knowledge of him being in the parking lot not too far from her made her even more energetic. She checked the clock again. Eighteen minutes left. She groaned in her head. Of course time would move slower now than ever. She tried to find something else to finish up, but she really didn’t feel like doing her slides just yet. Instead, she sat there, bored out of her mind and waiting for the time to tick by. She watched the red dial circle around the clock several times over, wishing for the big hand to hurry and hit the four on the clock. Ten more minutes. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five more to go. Celestia began packing up, neatly placing everything back into her bag. She stood, staying near her desk as not to alarm Mrs. Sheila. The woman glanced up anyway, checking the clock to see if Celestia was just standing for no reason.

“Alright, I’ll let you out a little early. You actually did work the whole time. Now leave before I change my mind.” she ordered, going back to scribbling on her paperwork. Celestia bowed lightly even though Mrs. Sheila didn’t see it, leaving the classroom quickly. The exit doors were just a few lefts and rights down the halls. It didn’t take long to see the glass doors in the distance.

She pushed them open, seeing Chrollo’s car immediately out front. She beamed at him through the window, bounding for him. She opened the door, sliding in and throwing her bag in the back seat before buckling up.

“Hey, how was detention?” Chrollo started, setting his phone down and starting the car. He urged it forward, ready to go.

“Awful! I finished all my work and then there wasn’t anything to do, I just have the slides for my presentation left to do and then I should be ready for next month.” she explained, gazing out the window. Watching the sycamore trees fly by was pleasing to the eye. She heard a soft chuckle from behind her.

“That’s good at least, less work for later. Are you hungry at all? After all that hard work, surely you must want something to eat first before a long walk.” he suggested, not taking his eyes off the road. As if on cue, Celestia’s stomach grumbled lowly.

“I’ll take that as a yes then. The café alright again?” he laughed lightheartedly. Celestia blushed to herself, giggling with him.

“Yeah, that works.” she replied. She held her stomach as if her arms could muffle the obscene noises erupting from it. Chrollo didn’t say anything about it and didn’t seem bothered much by it. Maybe he couldn’t even hear it. Still, she remained self-conscious of the noises emitting from her body. Normally she was used to going without food and her stomach wouldn’t make a peep. Though of course her body would embarrass her in front of Chrollo.

Celestia crossed her legs in the seat, letting her back relax against the leather and her eyes wander over the middle compartment. It was so clean. Coins weren’t stuck in the cup holders with unknown sticky substances, cords were placed neatly in the cubby, and there was no paper scattered about the compartment either. Chrollo’s phone lay inside the cubby, turned over so he had no distractions. This made her even more comfortable, knowing he prioritized his own safety over everything else.

The sound of Mozart hummed through the speakers, soothing her even more. Chrollo must have started a playlist up before she got in the car, knowing what her tastes were already. She still preferred Beethoven, though Mozart was proving to be exceptional as well. The sound soothed her, warming her arms and her legs and giving her a fuzzy swelling feeling in her chest.

The café was now coming into view. Celestia’s stomach got excited and started making noises again. She sighed, pain rumbling in her abdomen.

“We’re almost there. You can have whatever you want as well.” Chrollo reminded her affectionately. Celestia smiled, not looking over at him. She waited for Chrollo to pull into a parking spot before taking off her seat belt at all. She opened the door before he could get out and do it for her, laughing at his shocked face.

“And to think you enjoyed my courtesy~” he teased, turning his nose up in the air. Celestia giggled in return.

“I do! You were just being slow.” she continued his little game. Chrollo gaped at her, leading the two of them into the café. She laughed aloud at him, rolling her eyes at his fake shock. The café was bustling today, a small line even formed before them. This brought a wave of anxiety through Celestia, causing her to gravitate towards Chrollo. She didn’t notice her fingers fisting into the sleeve of his shirt around his forearm. He glanced down, noting her sudden alarm. Chrollo made sure to stay close to help her feel a little safer.

Once it was their turn, Chrollo ordered for the both of them. The same two black coffees and a couple sandwiches to go with it. He led her over to the pick up line so they could wait. She didn’t let go of his sleeve for a second, gripping tighter and even tugging him even closer to her.

“You’re alright, I’m right here.” Chrollo tried to settle her nerves, moving to rub the top of her back gently. He didn’t linger too long, just enough as a reminder of his presence. She grabbed onto his sleeve again, though less urgently. He was pleased with the response.

Their sandwiches and coffee came up once they reached the front of the line. Celestia let go of Chrollo so she could handle the sandwiches while Chrollo grabbed up the coffee. However, Chrollo didn’t sit down anywhere. Instead, he walked right out the door, checking behind him to see if Celestia would follow.

“Come on, Tia. I have a better spot for us to eat, one less crowded.” he explained while holding open the door for her to exit through. She didn’t hesitate, toddling to him and swerving past other people.

“Are we going to the beach now?” she asked, bouncing eagerly. Chrollo smiled.

“I figured I’d be easier for you to eat there. There won’t be as many people where I plan to take us.” Chrollo set the coffee cups down in the cup holders, starting the car back up again. Celestia held the sandwiches in her hands, folded nicely in plastic wrap and then placed in a pink and white striped bag. Chrollo drove out of the parking lot to start heading for the beach. The sun was beginning to set now that it was almost 6, the air starting to chill. The beach wasn’t too far from the little café.

“Are we gonna sit at the tables near the pier?” Celestia asked. She’d never even been to the pier before. She’d been to the beach twice and both were on completely separate occasions. One for the time her parents got married and the other for when her mother took her because a friend of theirs was going and asked if Celestia wanted to go with. Her mother had been hesitant at first to let her go, but she ended up going along anyway.

“Better.” he answered shortly, a smile playing at his lips. Celestia didn’t know what might be better than eating by the pier. The view was absolutely breathtaking and she’d love to share her first experience with him. She didn’t say anything further, waiting for his surprise. Chrollo did in fact pull into the small parking area near the pier, though he drove past the tables and the stores and people nearby. Instead, he parked next to the wooden structure.

“Follow me.” he ordered softly, unbuckling himself and getting out of the car. Celestia followed suit closely. She realized immediately that Chrollo was taking her directly over the pier. Her eyes widened and she smiled, gasping in excitement. Chrollo turned to her, smiling.

“You get it now?” he tittered. Celestia nodded excitedly, skipping next to him now. Chrollo continued to examine her reaction. The childlike nature she possessed, he was envious of it. Such a light individual despite her home life. She radiated pure energy in the moment, looking as if she could explode in glitter any minute. Fascinating.

Chrollo led her to the very end. There weren’t any tables or chairs, just the edge of the pier and the beautiful view of the setting sun. He thought about how she may not actually be able to get out much and decided this would be a nice view for her to enjoy. Chrollo sat at the edge, taking a glance behind him to motion for Celestia to sit down. She was a bit hesitant. The water was shining up at her, beckoning her closer as if it was a jewel. She knew the dangers of the deep however, and felt a sudden wish of anxiety wash over her. She sat close to Chrollo, not letting her feet dangle over the edge as he did.

He set their coffees in between them, taking a ham and cheddar sandwich from one of her hands.

“I’ve never seen the sunset like this...” she admitted, unwrapping her sandwich and beginning to eat. She took a bigger bite than she planned to, not paying much attention. She was engrossed in the view before her. It hurt to stare at the sun, but she wanted this moment burned into her memory. She wouldn’t get her hopes up, but she planned to have many more moments like this with Chrollo. It was then she realized it hadn’t even been a full week that she’d known him, and she already felt closer to him than she had with anyone else. She felt secure and safe with him. She felt like she could talk to him about anything. Maybe she could tell him about her dad, but she didn’t want to ruin this.

“So,” Chrollo started, finishing chewing before continuing, “I apologize for possibly ruining this moment for you, but now that we know we’re alone and no one will hear... Tell me, why does your father treat you that way?” he practically read her mind. She wanted to tell him, but the subject still made her nervous to speak of. Like her father was listening in from somewhere. Celestia set her sandwich down, taking a sip of her cooled down coffee.

“I don’t know.” she started, unsure of how to continue for a few seconds. He asked so bluntly, there was no room for avoidance.

“Before my dad got his job, things were a little better. More so I just wasn’t paid attention to like I am now.” her hands started to shake and her voice cracked gently.

“We don’t have to talk if you’re not comfortable...” Chrollo leaned forward to look her in the eyes. She wasn’t crying yet, but she could feel the subtle burn as the tears built up in her eyes.

“No... I feel like it isn’t fair if I don’t explain it. I can’t really expect someone to be my friend if I refuse to tell them about things that are this important.” she conceded, setting her food in her lap. She couldn’t bring herself to look back up at him, but she could feel his eyes on her.

“Ever since he got that job with Angel May, he’s just been different. Like I said, he never really paid attention to me as a little kid, but now it’s like he expects me to be perfect. Like I’ll ruin his life if I step out of line. Even though most people don’t even know he has a kid in the first place.” she explained to start. She didn’t know how much to tell him or how much not to. She was just going with the flow at this point.

“What does your father do for Angel May?” Chrollo requested. He already knew the answer, but he had to be as oblivious as possible. He may even be able to acquire new information as well. Celestia shrugged though.

“I don’t really know what he does at work. I just know he’s kind of like a security guard almost, but specifically for Angel May. He’s a big guy, so usually most people don’t even mess with him.” she answered quietly. The image of her father crossed her mind. A monster of a man, big and burly, unlike anyone she’d ever seen before. The long messy brown hair and aggressive brown eyes, the man was a boar by physic and by nature.

Chrollo was slightly disappointed, though not surprised. He hadn’t actually expected her to know. If she did, he may have let his facade slip. He knew Nicholas was the top man of Angel May’s men. He worked with her to organize plans and duties for the city mostly and then took care of anything that Angel May couldn’t do herself. He also had been assigned to tabulate the rather large party being held at her home across town.

“It’s possible that the stress from being in such a high position could cause him to act that way. However, it in no way justifies his actions in hurting you. You don’t deserve that.” Chrollo ranted a little. He couldn’t catch himself in time to stop. He casually took another bite of the sandwich, trying to seem nonchalant.

“What if I do though?” she started. Chrollo turned back to her, his brows furrowed under the wrap around bandage on his forehead.

“What if I did something in a previous life or something like that? Reincarnation makes sense to me I guess, I don’t exactly know how to explain it. But what if there was something I did that warranted this punishment?” she uttered the words quietly, more to herself than to him. She had no other explanation for it. Bad people received bad things, right? That was how it was supposed to work right?

Chrollo didn’t really know how to respond. Was that really what she thought about all of this?

“I guess that would make sense. What could you have done though?” Chrollo was now intrigued by the conversation more than he thought he would be. Another shrug. She pulled her knees up to her chest, letting her chin rest on top of them sadly.

“I’m honestly not sure. I haven’t thought too much into it, it’s just a reason because I can’t really think of another.” she finished, taking a few more bites of her sandwich. Chrollo could probably give her a million other possible reasons, but he let her have her belief. As much as he wanted to change that. The thought of her thinking she deserved this, whether from a past life or her current one, irked him in a strange way. Celestia was not a bad person. He didn’t know her very well personally, but Chrollo was incredibly perceptive. He just knew there was nothing she could have done to deserve the life she was living. There was no good reason for abuse, even he knew that.

Celestia finally finished her sandwich, their coffees cold and the sky now orange and pink above them. Chrollo studied her features again as she watched the sun rest beyond the water. She turned, hazel eyes greeting his grey gaze innocently.

“Thank you for tonight, I had an amazing time. I’d guess it’s time you take me home though, we don’t want another incident like last night.” she stood, dusting off her school uniform. Amazing. She acted as if nothing had happened. As of the minor conversation and their shared words were irrelevant. Chrollo pried his eyes from her, picking up the trash before it had a chance to wind up into the water.

“Of course, Tia. I had a pleasant time as well with you.” Chrollo began strolling back to the car, Celestia never too far behind. These odd new feelings, the realization of her mannerisms, and subtle imperfections in her features he began to notice. He was beginning to notice something profound. Not only did Celestia bloom when she was with Chrollo, but Chrollo was beginning to think his aura would bloom when he was with her.

[flerghwrites]

Wickedly Domestic

Hello! 

Welcome to the John Wick/OC fanfic I’ve been working on for months. This is a slowburn with eventual smut. So we will get there.  

                                                            -

There is a consistent thunk, thunk, thunk of her roommates bed hitting the wall. Despite a whole floor separating them she could still hear the sounds of her roommate getting fucked into next week, literally. Usually Maria wouldn’t care that her roommates late at night shenanigans would run into the next morning but, there was more at stake on the agenda today than usual. Maria pressed her pillow over her ears and looked at her phone; it was almost 4 am Monday morning.

There was a meeting in downtown New York that she had to attend, which the commute was a little more intense then she usually had to deal with. Living and working in a suburb outside of New York City allowed for a stress and traffic free drive to work, usually 15 minutes or less, but driving into the city always was a hassle, that drive tends to be close to an hour. Maria rubbed at her eyes and unlocked her phone, she still had 3 hours before she had to be downtown. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, this meeting was with the CEO. Those kinds of meetings either ended up in promotion or termination, she buried her face into her pillow. She could still hear the thunk and a few giggles from her roommate and company. Considering she was already up and too anxious to go back to bed she might as well get her workout in now instead of later.

Heaving herself up and out of bed with a groan she let out a yawn before looking around for her workout clothes. Pulling on her leggings and finding a clean shirt she fished around her room for her headphones. Despite living in New York state for a little over 3 months now she still hasn’t completely unpacked. Moving boxes were still stacked around the room and there was a stack of art needing to be hung up.

She wasn’t planning on moving when she did, the roommate who was busy getting fucked, offered her a place to stay. All she had to do was pay utilities and cook for the house once a week. The home had been a surprise to her roommate Cooper. An estranged great Aunt had willed it over to her, Cooper was already living in New York, and the full ride she received was barely enough to cover the dorm she had to split with 2 other people. When she was contacted by lawyers telling her she is now a proud homeowner and didn’t have to worry about student loans for the rest of her life.

One of the first things she did was reach out to Maria. Cooper was well aware of the tension at home, brewing in Maria’s family since they met in high-school. Unfortunately she had first hand seen more tear stained faces and frustration that Maria was put through. They spoke often and were close, promising to push each other to do amazing things. Sometimes amazing things means moving across the country but their love and friendship didn’t diminish over the distance. So offering the room

All Maria had to do was fund the move and drive 30 hours across the country. Dying to get out of the town she has spent her whole life, as well as always loving the east coast, she packed up, put in her two weeks at her current job and submitted an application to anywhere within a 10 mile radius of her new address. She thanked the stars when a local bank picked up her application and allowed for Skype and phone interviews, giving her the job before she even moved out there. She was introduced to her coworkers through a group chat and she fell into her role easily before she even met them in person.

The hardest part had been leaving old friends, leaving her family on the other hand had been a blessing. Her father and his side of the family had always been hard to please and any relationship with them over the last couple of years had been more of a formality than anything else. Her mother was a different story, tears were shed and a few fights were had due to this hasty decision on moving across the country. Maria’s mother had always wanted more for her daughter than what she currently had but packing up and leaving across the country in less than a month gave her mother bad feelings. Her mother backed off and gave Maria her blessing once she got her job, knowing how stubborn her daughter is once she puts her mind to something.

Her siblings had felt the same way, constant calls and texts were exchanged during the long drive while everyone was proud and knew she would be better for the move. It still hurt, promising to visit during holidays and letting them stay over if they ever visited. But it was like ripping off a bandaid. It had to be done or else it festers and could lead to infection, staying stagnant had been driving her crazy.

Once changed and headphones found under some papers she had been reviewing at her desk, she slid them over her ears and made her way upstairs, closing the door and making sure it was locked behind her. Her cat had the habit of running outside and getting lost or turning up at the local shelter and the last thing she needed was to also be worrying about her cat while she was working in the city.

She jogged down to the gate and opened it before she got into her car and made her way to the nature preserve just a few minutes away from her home. She could have ran there but she wasn’t quite ready to commit to the workout while the air was so chilly. By the time she has parked and started her stretches the world had started to wake up around her, birds chirping and the distant sounds of honking while she tried to figure out what playlist she wanted to run to. Deciding on something beat heavy she started down the trail that would lead over the swamp, it had been a while since she had run outside, usually opting to do her cardio in a class setting or on a treadmill while she binges whatever series she is watching on Netflix at the moment.

She was only half a mile in the trail before she had to stop for a moment. Her “ultra support” sports bra did not help as much as she hoped, having big tits was a blessing and a curse. They made working out hell on earth but it got her more free drinks at the bar then she would like to admit. But it also kept her from being able to run as much as she would like to before she has to stop and readjust.

She pulled out her phone and checked the time, quarter past 5 am, she still had time. She could do a mile before she went home and showered and get ready for a grueling day. She paused her music, taking deep breaths before she started up again, she thought she heard rustling behind her. Which despite being close to the city the swamp held more wildlife than she thought it would. She sat and listened, chancing a glance behind her. The sun was nearly up but running by herself in public always put her on edge. There was always the chance of someone grabbing her and doing whatever they would like to her, she shuddered and unlocked her phone, sending her location and a text as to when she would be back to the roommate group chat. Just in case she were to get snatched up at least her roommates would know where she was last.

She started up again, turning her music up all the way to drown out her heavy breathing and the sound of her feet hitting the trail. It wasn’t until she was almost across one of the many bridges in the nature preserve stretching her calf muscles when she felt something warm and slimy against the skin of her leg. She screamed and pulled her head phones off, looking down to see if she had unknowingly picked up a slug or if some creep had managed to sneak up on her. Letting out a sigh when she saw it was a small Beagle, whining and licking at her leg. She crouched down pet the dog who was whining at her feet.

“Hey baby, where are your parents?” She picked up the dog and looked it over, she saw a name tag, “Daisy- that’s a cute name. Matches my tattoo,” she flipped over the name tag and saw an address, thankful she wouldn't have to drop the dog off at home and try to find her owners later. Daisy fell asleep in her arms while she walked the pup back to her car, the thought on finishing her run gone from her mind. Once the dog was rested safely in her front seat and plugged the address into her phone. It was a quick drive back to the owners house thankfully, it was getting dangerously close to 6 am but she couldn’t not take the sleepy baby home.

She knew if her cat went missing longer than usual or her roommates dog she would be worried sick. No parent should be worried about their baby, that was the biggest motivator for her as she snaked through the neighborhood following her GPS until she pulled up to one of the biggest houses she had ever seen. She knew she lived in affluent part of the state but pulling up the gravel driveway of what was basically a mansion she started to sweat. The bouncing of her car woke the puppy up, who was happily wagging her tail, grateful to be home after wandering away in the early morning. Maria smiled, happy that the pup was glad to be home.

“Lets go baby, let's get you back home.” Daisy ran up the door and pawed at it. Maria knocked and waited a moment, when she didn’t hear any movement in the house she rang the doorbell. Daisy was sitting by her feet waiting patiently for the door to open, it felt like hours while she stood in the massive door hoping someone was home to take the pup in. In reality It had probably been only 5 or so minutes, she chanced a glance around the driveway and didn’t see a car. Figuring that whoever would have been home was gone she turned and started walking back to her car, calling for Daisy, she could take her home and try again after work. Knowing her roommates would be sympathetic to the lost puppy and take care of her until she could try again. It was then she heard the large door open. She turned and nearly lost her balance when she caught a glance at the man who opened the door.

[booknerdphd]

What To Buy- An International Student’s Moving List

Hey guys!

So I’ve managed to get a ton of stuff done in advance, like getting a flat and all that jazz. I move in September, but I wanted a place on campus for my personal ease and sanity. This list should help anyone, really. However, please note: This post is most useful for those moving into non-furnished apartments.

Keep Your Priorities Straight: Let us get one thing very clear- you are moving to a new country and it is only natural to get incredibly distracted and want to buy ALL THE AESTHETIC SHIT EVER. Trust me, I relate to this emotion a lot. However, again- you’re moving to a new country, and I assume the exchange rate is not kind to you (it certainly isn’t kind to me). So. Focus on what you absolutely need, the most urgent shit ever, the stuff you probably cannot live without.

Find an IKEA or an Equivalent Near You: There are two ways to get furniture- buy it from other students (you can do this by finding the FB groups for your university, such as your international student group or a subletting group) or by buying furniture (new or second hand).

Personally, after asking around, the general consensus for me is IKEA is Our Saviour, so I’m going to go with that. Plus, I also have no way to transport furniture from one place to the other so I would rather pay a little premium in the beginning to get things going.

So, having said this, my priority list goes as follows:

Priority #1:

1) Mattress: Be clear if you want spring, foam, hybrid or whatever variety that works for you. You need to sleep in this bed for as long as you can run on it. So make sure you make an educated choice.

2) Bed Frame: You can go without this for a month or so, but for me it’s important to get this in the beginning. My parents stay in the same city, but I lived a year in a flat of my own to be near office, where I never bought any furniture. I quite literally spent a year with no decorations, no frills, just a weird mattress my mum thought would be eco-friendly that really hurt my back. So I’m buying this bed frame so I don’t spend 5 years sleeping on the floor out of laziness.

3) Desk and Chair: This one is obvious, tbh.

4) Kitchen Appliances and Tools: This depends, honestly, on your cuisine and the relevant tools required. But, buy these in the beginning because this will most definitely motivate you to cook at home- you spent a ridiculous amount of money on it, if you don’t, you’ve wasted money that could have gone into your coffee intake.

5) Bathroom Essentials (Tools, curtains and the like):This one is also obvious. Get this done the minute you get there tbh.

Literally every other purchase- the bookshelves, the extra shelves, the sofa or futon, the decor...all of it is secondary. Save for those purchases, don't make those decisions in haste. If you still want it a month from the time you land, buy it. Else, discard the idea altogether.

If you can buy stuff in your home country, do that. I know for a fact that I will be travelling to the US with a pressure cooker, a whiteboard, a ridiculous number of coat hangers and god knows what else in my bag.

If you want to save money, buy what you can in your own country and buy what you have to in your new home country.

Stationary Is Cool: If you are like me, then you have your weaknesses when it comes to spending money. Mine is coffee, Asian foods, lipsticks, books and stationary. I will buy stationary even if I do not need it. I already have 10 notebooks and I have not even started classes. Help me. 

Personally, one way I combat this is by limiting my desire to buy notebooks by buying a few pretty binders and buying lose paper. This usually works for me. I’m not big on postits and all, but I do love highlighters and pens, but I tend to stick with one type for a long time so buying extra doesn’t have too big an impact for me.

Hotels are Expensive: Is it just me or are hotels really expensive abroad? I was looking at places and I never realized exactly how expensive they were. Like...I’m not paying $100-300 a day for a week, I won’t get that much in a month! So. Start connecting with your seniors and your fellow international students. Most of them would have no problem with hosting a fellow student, and are usually really nice about it. Your school might be able to provide alternatives as well. At worst, talk to your current circle of friends- I’m sure there will be someone whose aunt or cousin or best friend or childhood buddy stays in the city you are moving to. This is also a great way to have some connection to your home, even when you do not know these people, because it helps your create a community based on your own country for those days you get homesick.

(If you want a view of my weird detailed IKEA google sheet, let me know)

[closetspngirl]

Winchester’s Witch (Part 3)

Summary: You lived a normal life in Lawrence, Kansas. After graduating you move across the country to go to college. That’s when you notice that you’re seemingly finding yourself in…weird situations. And they only get weirder from there. Pairings: None, Friends with Sam and Dean, Rowena Word Count: 2782 Warnings: Mild swearing A/N: Last part! Hope you enjoyed it! Series Masterlist

Rowena looked to you, then your hand, then back at you, her red lips curling up. “What’s yer name dear?”

Looking between Sam and Dean and then back to Rowena you answered her, somewhat nervously. “Y/N.”

“No dear, ye’r surname.” Shifting your weight nervously from one foot to the other, “Gilmore.” You heard Sam hum, like he thought this situation was suddenly funny. “My last name funny or something?” You asked him, a little more accusation in your voice than you intended. “No, no. Sorry. It’s just…I’ve always thought it sounded familiar, but I can never figure out why. It’s nothing. Sorry.”

Your attention went back to Rowena. “Well now that that’s been sorted,” Rowena moving her pointed gaze from Sam back to you, she continued. “Gilmore ye say? That would be the Mac’IlleMhòire line, out of a little town in Scotland; Achnascheen. What do ye know about ye’r family dear?”

Now you were really confused. You had no idea that you were even Scottish. You never thought to look up your family history past your great grandparents. “Um, nothing I guess. I just thought my family was from here, well, Lawrence.”

“Wait, you’re from Lawrence? As in Kansas?” Dean asked sounding surprised. It was occurring to all of you that you hadn’t talked about where any of you came from. “Yeah, born and raised. My parents are professors at the University,” you told him.

Rowena kept smiling through the whole exchange. “Ah. Seems ye all missed something in the introductions a few years back, eh?” That pulled all your attentions. “How do you know I’ve been with them that long?”

“Well dear, I guess a’m th’ first tae tell ye.” She stated. “Tell me what exactly…” your eyes narrowing.

“Ye’r a witch my dear.” Once again, she got three sets of stares back at her.

“I hate witches,” you heard Dean say, this time you shot him a warning glare to zip it until you figured this out.

You started pacing, the three of them watching you, back and forth in front of the beds. Sam had tried to speak, but you held a hand up to quiet him, after all you were just told that you were a witch, you needed a moment.  

“Y/N, you keep going at that sweetheart, you’re going to wear a hole in the floor. Sit,” Dean said. You looked up, snapping out of the fog that had settled in your head. As if on autopilot, you moved to the bed closest them and sat.

“Start explaining, Rowena. I have a feeling Y/N is going to lose it in a moment without some sort of logical explanation,” Sam almost growled at her. You only saw him like this when he was trying to pull information out of some wrong doing monster, not that Rowena wasn’t one of them. But that was beside the point, and he wasn’t wrong. You were doing everything you could to stay focused right now.

“Ok, ok. When an’ where did ye get the ring dear?”

“Uh, from my mom. She gave it to me for my eighteenth birthday,” looking down at it, running your finger over one of the deep purple stones. It was an Edwardian style ring, silver filigree, purple stones, flashy, but not gaudy or over the top.

Continuing on as she turned fully to you in the chair she sat in, “Oh dear, that ring is far older. Centuries old, originating from Elspeth Reoch, executed in 1616 for bein’, well, a witch.”

“Still startling her, Rowena,” Dean warned, keeping his eye on you.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, “Well, there’s not much I can do about the history Dean, what’s done is done. Not trying tae scare the poor girl.” Noticing your attention was on the ring, she started with that. “Amethyst. A stone for protection, stress and anxiety.” You looked up at her, confusion on your face, “But I rarely get anxious, or stressed for that matter, even during finals week in college when everyone else was losing their minds over studying, I was fine.”

One of her perfectly manicured pointer fingers went to her nose, “Exactly dear, because of the power inside of you, and the stone. How have yer hunts been, say, the last few years? Noticed anything?”

The boys were thinking back to old cases. “I had the heart issue the year Sammy started back hunting with me. And there was the case with the shtriga that almost killed Sam,” Dean remembered.

“I got abducted by Azazel and sent to that camp, and then died, then brought back. There was that Vamp killer, Gordon Walker, who turned Dean against me. Oh, and that run of bad luck with Bella,” Sam said, listing off some of their other cases.

You looked up in realization. “Nothing more than some cuts and scrapes has come to either of you since I met you, right? I’ve heard stories about your hunts before I showed up. I mean think about the last couple of hunts we did. Things could have gone wrong. Fast. But they didn’t and here we are living to tell the tales.” Did you actually believe what she was telling you? Everything was making sense.

You were sure that smile was permanently attached to Rowena’s face at this point. “Have ye ever noticed th’ ring almost shining…shimmering, even when there’s no sun around? That’s when yer know you’re protecting something.”

Looking down you saw a faint hint of light from the ring, when there was only the dim motel lighting. “What about now? We’re not in a situation where I would have to protect them,” you asked. “Ah, but deep down ye know ye’r not completely comfortable with what’s happening, ye’r on edge. And not just because of ye’r hunting instincts. That’s the magic in ye’r.”

Rowena turned to the boys, “Have ye tried tae give her an anti possession tattoo yet?”

They looked at each other, Rowena already knowing the answer before they could vocalize it.

“Of course it wouldn’t work, she has a witch’s mark. Where is ye’rs dear?” turning back to you.

You looked at the boys. All of you knew what mark she was talking about.

You decided to join the boys after that night at the bar. You weren’t sure what it was about them, but you were drawn to them. They let you get settled into the bunker for a week or so before starting any training. One day Dean told you to get changed and meet him in the gym, which you did, walking in in a pair of leggings and a tank top. He started giving you the basics of fighting, letting you warm up. You had tried a couple of moves from a head on scenario, switching to coming from behind. Dean grabbed you, waiting for you to work your way out of his hold when he noticed the mark on your back. Your tank top had shifted slightly from the movement between your bodies, uncovering the mark on your shoulder blade.

“What is that? A birthmark?” Dean asked you once he saw it. “What are you talking about?” you asked him, after he released you. “Here,” putting his finger on it, “It’s like a, an antler…not sure. Some sort of symbol,” he said, taking out his phone to take a picture. “Huh, I’ve never noticed that before. You’d think I would have noticed by now, right?”

“Y/N?” Sam asked you, “You ok?” Looking up you realized that you had been walking down memory lane. “We were going to look into it, Dean, you took the picture of it, but we never did anything. Shit hit the fan pretty quickly what with the whole Mark of Cain thing and what not. I guess it kind of just got swept under the rug.”

“Well dear, where is it?” Rowena asked again. You unbuttoned your flannel and lowered the sleeve on your left shoulder, pulled your hair to the right side and turned so she could see it.

“Yes. The Algiz, or elk rune; the rune of protection. When did ye notice it dear?”

“That would have been…when I turned twenty-five?” You told her, eliciting a hum from her, like she was confirming something to herself. “The mark shows after the ring is given, depending on how you…present yourself.

“Presenting as in…” you trailed off in question. “As in protecting. Them.” Rowena pointed to Sam and Dean.

You thought about all the times you had seen the guys. “So all of those run ins with them when I was in college? Helping them when I was in Seattle?” you asked. She responded with a sly nod.

“Ok, I have a question. How is all of this possible if I had no idea that I’m a witch? My parents have never said anything, and they’re both European history professors. You’d think they’d mention some century old family secret, right?”

Rowena laughed through her lips, almost humming. “There are three types of witches dear. The borrowers, the naturals,” she said motioning towards you, “and the students. You are obviously and quite literally, a natural. Ye’r don’t need tae be taught because it’s already in ye. There are extraordinary cases to each of these, and ye dear, happen to be one of them. Protectors are strong, very rarely ever learn from a book or mentor, and never use their magic for the sides of good or evil.”

Confused, once again, you asked, “But isn’t some of what we do…maybe not considered good?”

A hearty laugh came from the red head now. “Oh of course! Ye three are no saints, that’s for sure.” Dean rolled his eyes. “But there’s a second bit to this extraordinary case that you happen to be. Every few hundred years or so, they come up, where a witch such as yourself finds the one, or in this case ones, that she is supposed to protect. So, ye’r not protecting for the sake of good and evil, ye’r protecting them from anything that wants to cause them harm. Ye’r more powerful than you know, between your bloodline, the mark and the ring, no major harm will come to ye or the boys.”

You looked between the boys, both of which were looking at you. “Huh, so that happened,” letting out an airy laugh, still getting over the shock of the situation.

“I’m a witch.” It was more of a statement than a question, but directed to Rowena either way.

“Ye’r a witch dear.”

Looking right at Dean, pointedly, “I hope you can make an exception,” a smirk resting on your lips. He laughed, “For you, of course I can.”

“Well, now that all of that has been settled, the help I needed. There’s a vampire nest not far from here. One of them has been after me for the better part of a century, I’d like him dead. I don’t care what ye do with the rest, but ye may as well kill them while ye’r at it. I know ye boys can handle a nest; especially with Y/N,” she looked at you, giving you a wink.

---

“Ok, everyone clear on what we’re supposed to be doing?” Dean asked from the front seat, the Impala parked just down the road from the old barn that the nest was in. “Go in, find the guy, kill them all, get the hell out,” you and Sam took turns repeating each part back to Dean just as you had practiced. “And,” Dean said, turning his gaze to you. “And act like nothing is different in light of recent information,” you finished.

He wasn’t wrong. You couldn’t go in with machetes drawn giving any thought to what you had recently found out from Rowena. All you had to do was make sure you wore your ring, like you always did, and kill the vampires, like you’ve done before.

The three of you stalk towards the barn along the line of trees when Dean turned to Sam, “How many vamps do we think are in here?” All of you stopped walking, Sam looking between the two of you. “Well in everything that I read about them, it should be about five or six?” Dean wasn’t amused. “Should? What the hell is that supposed to mean?” “I, uh, think it means there should be five or six, but he’s not sure,” you quipped, getting an eyeroll from the elder brother.

“This seems too easy. I don’t like it when it seems easy. Why would Rowena send us to a kill that would be easy enough that we could do with or without Y/N, without breaking a sweat?” Dean was questioning. “Well, I guess we prepare for worst case scenario?” you responded, answering his questions as best you could, which really wasn’t an answer in anyway at all.

So that’s exactly what you did, well as best as you could while you were practically on the front step of the door to the nest. When you got in, surprisingly unheard by the prey in question, you looked at each other then back to the rest of the barn. And the fourteen vampires that were mingling around.

Just as you planned, you fought like you normally did; not giving thought to the ring, or the fact that you now knew that you were a witch. The kills were surprisingly easy for you since any vampire that ended up standing in front of you froze, out of fear, making cutting their head off quite simple. When the three of you finished, you looked around at the mess that the ‘fight’ had caused.

“Uhh, guys, I only count thirteen bodies,” Sam mentioned. “Where’s the last one, he was here, I counted fourteen when we walked in, twice,” you responded.

There was a rustling of hay on the ground from one of the darkened corners of the barn, announcing the shadowed figure coming out. “Looking for me?” he said, acting like this wasn’t his last day. “Sure am. You Dante?” you asked, the vampire ignoring the guys and heading, slowly, right for you. While his attention was on you, Sam and Dean were quietly making they’re way up behind him. You noticed your heart rate was staying calm you, you know, for having a vampire with its eyes set on you within arms reach.

“Maybe, maybe not. Who wants to know?” The smug son of a bitch was still thinking he was going to get away from this. He stopped, maybe 5 feet in front of you, enough space that you could take him down, if you put enough power into your swing. You wanted him closer though. “Let’s call her…a mutual friend,” you gave him, not entirely sure what he’d do at the mention of Rowena’s name. Chuckling, more to himself than anything, he took two more steps towards you, and froze. “No,” he whispered.

What he didn’t see was the ever so slight glance that you had given Dean a few seconds before, telling him to take him down when he had the chance. And now that Dante was in front of you, frozen from whatever invisible force was coming off of you, he had the chance. Well, all three of you did, but there was something about the way Dean finished off a vamp that was entertaining. In the dramatic sense, not the ‘I love chopping the heads of half human half creatures off’ sense; he was always making a show of the last one.

“That was still too easy. I don’t like easy,” Dean huffed, not completely out of breath, but more because the fight was over. “I know, no one likes it; but it’s done. We did was she said, and we’re all coming out unscathed. Which I guess just proves everything Rowena told us, me,” you said, not really to either of them.

You looked at Sam first, him offering you a smile. “So, a witch.” You shrugged in response, “Guess so?” You looked at Dean next, “Still ok with this?” He seemed to be thinking about it, which should have spiked your heart rate a little, knowing what he was capable of doing to someone. A smile found its way back to his face, “Yeah. I’m still ok with this. You are the only witch that I will ever be ok with. I guess as long as you stick around. But judging by our history, it wouldn’t be long before we ended up together again. So, still want to keep hanging out with us, Y/N?”

“I would love that,” you said, a big smile on all of your faces. “Let’s go home.”

[theolivechickken]

So… I’m in EUROPE

Jan 9

Alternative titles for this first blog post:

The blind side?

Did I mention that my favorite river is De Nile? As in I’m in denial that I’m going abroad for a semester

The hardest goodbye

The shortest drive of my life trying to make it last as long as possible

¡Sorpresa! So January 9th came out of nowhere

I only cried 40 times

When will it sink in?

I don’t know why I’ve been so emotional about leaving these past few days. I love traveling and exploring new places, and I’m excited for this semester. I think I’m a little nervous for the shock when it hits me that I’m going to be away for four months. It’s not a big deal since I’m away from home and in Redlands for school most of the year. Yet it’s a different deal since my home is now in a different country.

And here’s me being real for a hot minute. I’m sad to be away from Nick for so long. I’m not worried about our relationship but I’m going to miss being in his company and sharing moments with him. Sure, we can always FaceTime (and watch Game of Thrones at the same time). But I think the big difference is that I’m not gone for a short trip or May Term. It’s a lot of time, yet I also feel like it will pass quickly and be over in a blink of an eye.

I’m just hoping to be as “in the moment” as I can and enjoy this experience while I have the opportunity :)

I’m also sad to be far away from my big. If you’re reading this Big D, I love you and miss you and we should travel once I recover from being broke from this trip.

I think I've been prepped all my life for long haul travel because it seems to feel shorter and shorter the more I take trips (especially after doing a 16 hour flight to South Africa). I had my first *oh shit* moment where I realized I’d have to navigate LAX by myself once I got dropped off. Bless traveling in groups but also bless people who are veterans or able to do it alone.

I’ve always wondered: how do people get cold in airplanes? I'm always hot and stuffy and lets cross our fingers that I didn't get sick (midway through the flight my throat started to feel very dry and scratchy). And hey what's the deal with airline food (jokes?) But for real why am I so gassy?

10 Hours later we arrived in London had to SPEED RUN THROUGH SECURITY to make it to our connecting flight to Munich. Actually we made it through alright. Even the workers told us that our flight wasn't boarding yet so we didn't need to stress (but Ayetzy did since her bag was stopped by security).

Jan 10

Alternative titles 2.0:

Walking in a winter wonderland

It's a bit nippy

Hey so what's Germany look like? Idk I couldn't tell you since everything is covered in snow

WOW they actually have seasons here

It feels like I'm in a weird dream where I think I'm just in a different state in the US, but I'm actually 13,000 miles away from home. Also, what the heck is a kilometer? What's the exchange rate from the euro to Dollar? How do I mentally convert Fahrenheit to Celsius? At least I prepped for time with a 24 hour clock. But what's the time difference at home? Also, everything is in German (but at the same time, I can recognize words here and there!)

The houses are kinda cute. They look like the houses little kids draw with the pointy roofs and windows in the middle of the wall. Jet lag has my body all out of whack. I’m starviiiiing and trying my best to stay awake on this shuttle ride to Salzburg so I can fall asleep when it gets dark out and reset my body to a new time zone.

Update: I definitely passed out on this shuttle ride.

Seeing all the snow is low-key a shocker (yes I was expecting snow but nothing in my life would have ever prepared me for this much snow) but I'm excited to experience a different life in a different world. Fun fact: this is the most snow that Salzburg has received in a long time. So our shuttle driver wasn’t able to make it up the mountain to our home. He was about to drop us off at the side of the road and make us walk up in the snow, but luckily Sara, Kaya, and Katharina drove down and picked us up!

Once again, I find myself in room no. 9 (a theme?). I remember walking into our home and immediately seeing the staircase. Kaya offered to help us carry our 50lb luggage up the stairs and I was like “Nah, I got this.”

First set of stairs was no problem. Then I realized there was a second set. We made it up but had to catch my breath. BUT WAIT THERE’S MORE. By this time, Kaya held up the bottom of my suitcase so that I could lift it up the stairs. Thankfully, I’m on the third floor.

Jan 11

We started off the morning with a light breakfast in the Mendel and then toured our building, Monschberg 21. I love it here. It’s quite charming and cozy. We are settled in the backyard of a park and on the top of a mountain, which gives us a beautiful grand view of the city. I better have swol legs from hiking this mountain and climbing 3-4 sets of stairs multiple times a day in the Monschberg.

Our classroom is on the fourth floor (along with a student/study room, a yoga/relaxing room in the tower, a small gym room, and a cozy library). The dining room (Mendel), student kitchen, and Marcus’ kitchen is on the first. Did I mention there’s also a basement? And a dungeon. And a Winter garden (probably my favorite room in the house)!

We all gathered in the Winter Garden for an introduction to culture in Salzburg. Turns out that Red Bull was invented here, and Mozart hated Salzburg. None of the locals really know what the Sound of Music is, but it’s important for tourism. In the US waiters shower customers in unsolicited, overly-friendly conversation and attention, but here you have to flag down the waiters for the check and they’ll leave you alone for the most part (which I could get used to actually). It’s encouraged to sit down and spend time with friends and families at restaurants (and Western food-to-go culture isn’t really a thing). People like to follow rules (especially older folk) so we probably shouldn’t be jaywalking or walking in the lane designated for bikes. We also learned some basic German words and phrases to help us get around town. And people here are very literal. If you ask them how they are, they will tell you how it is (instead of replying with a quick “I’m good” or “I’m fine”).

We took a break to have a delicious home cooked lunch. Marcus prepared pork, fried rice, and a salad. Afterwards, we threw on a butt ton of layers and walked down into the city for a tour. We passed by the opera house, Mozart’s birthplace and statue, Salzburg cathedral, and neighboring shops in the city.

I was toasty for the most part, but when we stood for long periods of time, my toes started to get cold. Also, I probably should have worn a scarf, but I also didn’t die without it. We were also able to explore a bit on our own before dinner. Raine, Aubree, Patrick, and I were trying to find a coffee house (that wasn’t overly bougie), and we stopped inside an Italian coffee shop to warm up.

We tried our best to use our navigation senses to try to find the Mozart statue and then Patrick wandered off and disappeared. We threw some chunks of snow at each other as the locals quietly passed by and then Patrick reappeared with Kaya and Sara. We walked to Zum Zirkelwirt and had Goulasch, Stiegl, and Kaiser schmarrn for dinner. It was also Nadia’s 21st birthday (and Patrick and Savanna had also recently celebrated January birthdays) so we headed to O’Malleys for drinks. I tried a shamrock cocktail and an Apple Strudel shot - both were surprisingly pretty tasty.

For the most part, our group is directionally challenged. I like to think I’m good with directions, but it was also difficult navigating around town at night when major landmarks are covered in snow. We didn’t know where the horse statue was located, so we went around in circles before turning right up the street and finding the bike tunnel back to the stairs by our mountain. A crazy ol’ (schwasted?) Austrian lady stumbled into our path and started shouting and mumbling things we couldn’t understand. It was an interesting spectacle to say the least. The snow started coming down hard and we ended up climbing 100 steps up the mountain and then getting lost at the fork in the road at the top. We ~eventually~ made it home and all in one piece :) Great start to the semester.

[stoopsbookstore]

Daggers (Part 4)

Warnings - creepiness, violence, fooling around, general fuckery, The Guy (Yes! More creepiness from The Guy) A mention of the previous attack, mentions of killing, drugs

Besides the awkwardness inside the car that only Y/N could seem to sense and a traffic jam, the group arrived at the massive campus alive. The giant sign above the gates read "Woodlake School of Academics."

"Here we are. Now, me and Haechan have to go, our class starts in 5."

"We have to wait for Doyoung-Hyung and Winwin-Hyung. They're in the class as well."

"Alright, I guess we can wait for them."

A girl ran up to Y/N, spooking Haechan, and hugged her, "Oh my god, I'm so happy to see you."

"Jeong-Jeong, you just saw me 48 hours ago."

"Dressed in gross scrubs. So, what's this rumor that you have 9 new handsome bodyguards?"

"No, my dad decided to do some good will and some of the transfer students are staying with us for a while."

Sejeong squealed, "are any of them cute?"

Y/N started to tell her about the night before. "There's one guy, Jaehyun. We almost fuc- No, God no, none are cute," Y/N said a little too fast, when she noticed Taeyong, who tagged along with them since his class was next door, Winwin, Doyoung and Haechan appear.

Sejeong whispered to Y/N, "You are to tell me everything later tonight."

"Why don't you just come over?"

"I have a date with that guy I've been talking to, Hyuk."

The four guys seemed to have stiffened at the name, but neither of the girls noticed.

"I'll tell you everything in exchange for you know," she winked, "see you later, Lynn-Lynn."

Cringing at the nickname, Y/N mocks her friend's tone, "text me after, Jeong-Jeong."

Sejeong ran off and the guys pulled Y/N into the classroom.

"Who's that Hyuk guy she was talking about?" Taeyong asked.

"Just a guy at another school she's had a crush on forever, tall, nice eyes, really cute," Y/N listed off reasons as if she was the one with the crush on the male. While she walked to her chair, Winwin nudged Doyoung in the side, trying not to get mad, with his ears perking up when Y/N confessed, "but he's not my type. He's perfect for Sejeong, though."

The teacher walked in, shooing Taeyong off, as Doyoung looked like he was ready to start a full-fledged integration on Y/N. Haechan whispered to Doyoung, "Hyuk, isn't he the guy who almost kil-"

"Yes, now shut up and focus,” Doyoung growled.

The class went by smoothly, Y/N turned in her classwork and got 98% on it. Thanking Haechan for the study tools, she ran to meet Jaehyun. She waited for him to appear, but 5 minutes went by with nothing. 10 minutes, 15 minutes, finally Jaehyun appeared.

"I'm sorry, kitten, this is a strange school."

"I figured you would've known which stairwell to go to, seeing as you were the one who set this location," Y/N joked, blushing at Jaehyun's new name for her.

Jaehyun looked at her, eyes bugged out, until he remembered, "Oh yeah, I just assume that every school has that one place where there's no cameras and isn't on the path for most of the people."

"You got me there, no one ever comes to this hallway, it's haunted," Y/N did a silly dance and extended the final word to Jaehyun's laughter.

“Luckily, I don’t believe in ghosts.”

“They’re real, though!”

Y/N saw Jaehyun's face go all serious after their little ghost quip.

"So," she said, gaining the dirty blond's attention," what did you want to talk about?"

"Last night. I'm sorry if you felt like it was too soon. Like I said, I normally don't move that fast, especially if that person is a roommate of mine and she's the daughter of a C.E.O. and definitely not after a day after she was almost raped and killed."

Y/N walked up and kissed his cheek, "Jae, it's fine. I wouldn't have gone that far if I didn't want to. I think you're attractive, you hopefully think I'm attractive."

Jaehyun chuckled, "I definitely do."

"And it was a small room with a storm going on, that's literally a romcom movie or a fanfic scenario and it just so happened to us."

Jaehyun sighed and before he could say anything else, the alarm for Y/N's second and final class of the day went off.

"Offer still stays, we can try again tonight, same time."

The next class Y/N had was statistics, she didn't think she shared this class with any of the guys until she spotted Doyoung and Johnny sitting where she would normally sat.

"Haechan told us you always sit near windows," Johnny spoke up.

"Yeah," Y/N said with a gasp, shocked that Haechan noticed that, "when it's sunny, it feels so good and it's peaceful when it's raining."

Doyoung scoffed at the last remark, catching Johnny's attention. Johnny kicked his shin before getting up and moving to the table in front of Y/N's.

"You can take it, I can't stand the cold, this weather needs to make up its mind."

The entire class saw how well Y/N was getting along with the new transfers until one girl, Courtney, came up and pushed Y/N off the seat, landing on the floor with a thud.

"Courtney Adriane Peters, at your service," she held her hand out, waiting for it to be shaken, "I heard about the transfer students, but I didn't think they would be so se-"

"Can I help you?" Doyoung asked seriously, "you just pushed our friend off the seat and I don't think she appreciates that." Johnny helped Y/N off the floor.

"Oh, that's right... she's apparently screwing some of y'all. Wouldn't put it past her after the 'attack'," Courtney said with air quotes, "she probably was gonna screw him, changed his mind and said it was an attack, I know her daddy would get her off."

Courtney turned to Y/N, who had rage and sadness in her eyes, "I bet they don't even know why you had to be adopted."

"It's none of our business," Johnny finally spoke.

"It's a juicy story, her mom killed her father, her mom went on the run, little Y/N Jaqueline Louis on her own."

Y/N was visibly upset at this point and ended up walking out. Doyoung was seething in his seat and ended up following Y/N, leaving Johnny in the class with Courtney trying to get in his pants.

"For someone who's so angry, you walk very fast," Doyoung, catching up to Y/N, said.

"Just tell Johnny I'll see him and Taeil at the mal-"

"I'll walk you there, we can get to know each other," the tall boy spoke with a gummy grin, attempting to calm Y/N down, "maybe we can get some ice cream."

"You know, me being seen with a bunch of boys is gonna be a field day for Courtney."

Doyoung texted Johnny, telling him to write good notes that he can steal later. Johnny texted something back, but when Y/N tried to snoop, Doyoung immediately shut off the screen and threw it in his bag, "While we're walking, you can tell me why Courtney doesn't like you."

"She doesn't like that a powerful C.E.O. adopted me. She is that stereotypical rich bitch who cries when the spotlight isn't on her. Literally. Last semester I took a class with her and she was the lead. She had a mental fucking breakdown because someone else had a monologue."

Doyoung chuckled, "wow, so she's just never liked you?"

"She also claims I stole Sejeong from her. Sejeong was on the cheer squad, but her mom decided to put her in the same psychology class as me, we bonded over our mutual dislike for the teacher and the rest is history."

"Oohh," he exclaimed, "So this Hyuk guy?"

"Oh, they've been talking for like 2 months now, she just got out of a relationship with some girl named Heejun and Hyuk's the only person who's made her feel like an actual human instead of just a sex doll." The light turned green for them and they ran across to avoid getting hit by someone making a right-hand turn.

"Johnny and Taeil said they'll be here in any minute now, Johnny said the teacher did not show up at all and class was cancelled, 15 minute rule," Doyoung pouted, looking at his phone.

"Dude, we live together, don't pout."

"But we were just getting along, who knows how long that will last until Haechan starts pitting us against each other in a prank war where someone will end up naked in the middle of the football singing Old Smokey."

Y/N stopped in place, shocked to hear what the guy just said.

"You think he's quiet and innocent, he's actually Satan, or at least a descendant."

Y/N bit her lip to stop herself from laughing and Doyoung had to stop himself from staring. He didn't realize Johnny and Taeil were sneaking up behind him to spook him. While the four were laughing, a guy come up to Y/N, grabbing her ass and trying to get an upskirt shot of her. Taeil pushed the guy away.

"Dude, what the fuck? It was a joke" The creep said, getting up from the floor and before he could retaliate, Johnny got in front of him.

"Not a smart idea."

The guy, seeing Johnny's height, slowly backed away, mumbling "It was just a joke."

Taeil got a text and tapped at Doyoung on his shoulder.

"Doyoung, we need to go, Mr. Connors assigned us a project for film class. I'm sorry, Y/N, I was really hoping to spend some time with you and get to know you, but we can talk some other time. Doyoung, let's go." He said, seemingly in one breath.

"Oh Ok. Johnny, we don't have to stay here." Y/N told the tall guy standing next to her.

"No, we can stay, only 2 are needed for a party."

Johnny and Y/N walked around the mall, running through the different stores. 3 hours later, most of the good stores closing with the exception of Spencer's, so as a joke, they decided to look around.

"You would go to the back, wouldn't you?" Y/N joked.

After the mall, they were heading home, Johnny was wondering why Y/N's birth parents were such a touchy subject. Before he could say a word, Y/N broke the silence.

"Thank you, and tell Doyoung and Taeil thank you. It's something I'm used to, so it's nice for someone to stand up for me"

"Yeah, no problem. That guy was a dick, he'll get what's coming to him," Johnny said confidently. "Let me ask you something."

"No, I'm not really a princess from a foreign country."

"Ha-ha, no. It's a serious questi-"

"You want to know about my birth parents?"

"Yeah."

Y/N took a deep breath in.

"The story I've always been told was my dad was a druggie. He was hooked on everything. One night when I was younger, he came home. He was tearing through the house and started to attack my mom. She fought him off and then he tried to go after me and she, of course, didn't take too well to that. She picked me up, put me in my room, grabbed the closest thing and killed him. She called the cops, saying she thinks there was a domestic dispute and a child was in the house. She ran, They came, took me in, put me in foster care and the rest was history."

They walked in silence, for neither had nothing to say, back to the house. Johnny was once again going to speak up until Y/N just left him with a simple "I'm going to bed."

After she went to her room, Johnny ran up to the 3rd floor lounge to see the other 8 guys waiting for him.

"What the actual fuck, Doyoung? Why did you leave?"

"Mark texted us, that asshole said he's gonna expose Y/N's dad."

"What the fuck happened last night, I thought he was supposed to be dead."

Four of the guys went out last night, following the guy as he left a bar, drunk off his ass and high as kite. One of the guys went up to him to "steal" his wallet, another one knocked him out and the last 2 tied him up.

"That bitch deserved it," the guy spat out blood at the man who was holding a bat, he started to swing at the guy until he found a voice from his friend, "Calm down, he's just trying to get you riled up."

"Come on," the guy laughed, "you've clearly seen her, her face plastered everywhere, you don't think she'll be a good fuck? Those luscious lips, painted with that innocent pink lip color? Those short skirts she wears, just begging to pulled down? she probably wears nice little thongs or cute lace boysh-"

The male dropped the baseball bat and started punching the guy's face, seemingly beating him to death. Sirens started to come closer and the guys scattered, leaving the guy to bleed out.

"We thought he was dead, Hyung." Haechan said, ashamed of himself.

Taeyong, noticing the atmosphere, spoke, "we should probably get to bed. We'll figure things out later."

A little bit past 1am, the Guy crept into Y/N's room where she was laying, peaceful and soundly asleep. The moonlight shined on her, making her looking even more like a goddess. As he crawled into bed with her, she noticed the shift in weight. She started to wake up, but the Guy cuddled up to her side.

"If you wanted to cuddle, you could've just asked, Jae," she said in a sleepy voice. The Guy just simply groaned back and she went back to sleep.

"You will be mine one day soon," he said with a smirk on his face while he starts to slip into his own slumber.

[girlsguidetogettinghigh-blog]

The Guide

The definitive run-down on staying safe while filling the chop bowl, written for my sisters everywhere who just want to get cooked.

The following is a composite of general wisdom, links to information that you will find helpful as well as guides to installing and using encrypted communication applications so we can all safely get crooked. This is just a general guide however, common sense and trusting your gut will always trump my anecdotal advice. The technical aspect is apt, I have a student loan that proves I’m somewhat competent.

First and foremost, with the advent of it being publicly known that most if not all of the Vegetable Australia groups have been compromised, a lot of the availability is gone. Scammers have successfully exploited this gap and now I have heard stories from multiple women who have been ripped off blind. This really gets my panties in a fucking knot so I stole most of this guide and rewrote it with a woman’s touch.

The critical advice I give to all of you girls, is know your state laws regarding drug use and possession.

This is a very simple and easy to understand page outlining the laws in New South Wales. Searching google will result in similar pages for the other states. Knowing your rights is exceptionally important, regardless of if you’re up to mischief or not.

If you’re an inexperienced user, the Psychonaut Wiki has a brilliant page on just about everything you need to know. Ranging from usage, effects as well as medication interactions.

Another page that offers plenty of information, secondary to the first I have linked is the Erowid General Page. The first page I linked is essential knowledge, the second is additional homework. Learn your stuff ladies.

Further Reading

When you’re buying a name brand, use this resource to verify it’s what they say it is. You can quite literally shut down someone by sending them a picture verses picture comparison. Don’t get ripped off because someone called it something fancy.

One of the best things you can do is learn about a concept called operation security, or OpSec for short. Keeping yourself and your data safe is crucial to keeping yourself out of a courtroom. This pages outlines a very in-depth analysis of operational security.

On top of this, most people aren’t aware of how much personal information they give away publicly and the implications of such. More often than not, people use the same password for everything too; this is horrible from a security standpoint. Learn about passwords here.

Want more of an in-depth look at what encryption is and how it works? This page should tell you everything you want to know about the actual tech behind these applications as well as it’s limitations and legality.

What’s a VPN and do I need one is something I get asked a lot, familiarise yourself with this page and decide based off that. Make sure you read reviews and are aware of privacy laws in your state.

Read this page about being a decent buyer or buy the book and read the whole thing then give it to your friends. I don’t make anything from this and I’m not affiliated at all, I just abide by these myself as best I can. Your parents probably knew or followed most of these themselves and the whole thing is free and worth reading while you’re couch-bound.

An Introduction

Now, before we jump in, I’d like to mention that the trade has changed dramatically in the last twenty years. Users today have little if any respect and widespread availability has lead to very little loyalty. I have seen people threaten dealers despite the fact it’s an admission of being complicit to a drug deal. I have watched Facebook groups be infiltrated by boys playing the big man and within the week it’s completely trash.

Follow these general pieces of advice and you should be well on your way to picking up something delicious with relative ease and heightened security.

The Golden Rules

The number one rule when buying from anyone you meet online is to only pay with cold hard cash. Real sellers only take cash and don’t want to leave an electronic paper-trail. Anyone who tells you it can be traced is probably trying to scam you.

Most scammers are easy to spot if you use logic. Generally all of them run advertisements showing that they sell essentially anything you could ask for. Stick with the sellers who only sell weed, it’s just generally safer. Scammers will ask you to prepay with a cash transfer or a gift card of some sort, usually bought from a convenience stores. This is an obvious tell.

Do not buy any of the gift cards or Steam cards and under no circumstances should you give them any serial numbers or receipt numbers. Countless people have been ripped off using these various methods and they are getting exceptional intricate and talented at lifting coin.

Try to avoid Craigslist, as it is full of scammers operating from other countries. Sometimes you might have some luck but I am sceptical at best.

Making Contact Safely

Most sellers with half a brain can be contacted through a free app known as Wickr Me, which is available from Google Play or iTunes. We generally don’t use anything else, if you’re seeing Kik, or WhatsApp I would be wary.

If configured correctly any and all of your messages sent through Wickr will self destruct after being read and are encrypted between devices. The application will also block screenshots if you’ve asked it to, and it will warn you if an app is recording or using an overlay on your device.

If the seller tells you that they want anything other than cash or anything similar, don’t bother with them at all. There is a one-hundred percent chance you end up with your cash gone and a packet of batteries.

Meeting Places and General Safety

Make sure to meet in a place you feel safe, preemptively plan locations and trial-run them to see how you fair. It is important to maintain an element of control but to be flexible in case your friend has requirements of their own. Someone asking for very specific places that you can’t establish as safe probably is going to knock you over.

Most people are genuine, but there are a few out there ready to steal your money. Don’t inherently trust someone because they’re a stoner. If you knew how many consoles I’ve been offered.

Make sure you can physically see and confirm what you’re buying before you hand over any cash at all. The seller won’t hand you product worth money until he’s been paid as per his requirement in this deal, so make sure to ask the seller to bring it in a clear bag or container, so you can see what you’re getting. This is common sense and any dealer will generally comply.

Ask to meet in a public place when you first meet someone, you’re both humans and there is nothing illegal about getting a coffee before going for a drive together.

Don’t meet them in an alley or a dark, deserted area. You’re asking for trouble. In some of these situations it’s unavoidable, if you have to; make sure you bring someone or better, multiple people.

If you don’t like the look of the person you are meeting, don’t let them get into your car and do not get into their car. If you don’t like someone’s house or you feel you’re being boxed into a kill-zone. Leave immediately. It’s not worth it.

Don’t make a large purchase the first time you meet if you’re a little bit scared. Try to buy a small amount like a fifty or a quarter, and then if you feel comfortable with the seller, increase your purchase size. Remember that it would be better to get busted for a stick than an ounce.

So, Are they Legitimate?

Asking for photos of product before you purchase is basically necessary. You’re going to determine based off this part of the interaction if they’re indeed genuine and legit.

Anyone who offers detailed close-ups, as well as pictures on a scale with the weight clearly visible or even with a timestamp is showing a certain level of tact and professionalism from the get-go.

Someone who speaks proper English and uses correct grammar is inherently going to seem more professional than someone who doesn’t finish sentences with a period. Be aware of this when you deal with someone, their vernacular will reveal a lot about their socio-economic situation and how they interact with others.

A phone call, that you record is a good way to avoid officers of the law as well as establish some repour between yourself and the dealer.

Don’t bother pissing around with Bitcoin, it’s not worth the effort, time or loss of finances you’ll experience. Unless you know what you’re doing, stay off Tor.

Dealers have lives too, don’t expect an answer right away or at all. You’re not entitled to one, however most sellers want your money too so generally it’s not a problem. Remember that they’re doing you a favour, treat them and the exchange as such.

Here’s an example of some legitimate looking photos:

>img

Figure 1. Here, the dealer is showing a weight as well as a current timestamp with their Wickr address. I have very little reason to doubt someone at face value when it’s this tier of service.

> img

Figure 2. This is the average level I expect someone to be up to, if there’s a weight and a clear photo; I have a relative element of trust in the dealer. This should be what you look for at a minimum.

> img

Figure 3. Closeups also help you verify the strain and that it’s not a scam. Asking for these while you see pictures of a scale is a good way to weed out scammers who claim_ it’s already bagged and sealed_. 

Purchase Quality and General Pricing

Prices everywhere will vary from seller to seller and often are based around socio-economic demographics too. The richer the area, the higher the markup. Nicer suburbs usually dictate nicer quality but it is not absolute. Expect that some groups of people are simply going to get ripped off, purely because they’re completely oblivious.

The better the quality, the more you will pay. I shouldn’t need to explain this. However, make sure you’re certain when you pay more.

Weed is illegal, so is not regulated or tested for pesticides or mould like you get with something from Coles. Be careful of what you are smoking. If it doesn’t look right, throw it out. Dying to get high is a literal term.

Prices usually go up when there is a drought on, which tends to happen from around the end of the year up until the Australian outdoor harvest in March. Christmas prices are hell, I suggest highly that you stock up to save yourself from exorbitant prices. On the flipside, this is entirely reasonable; dealers have lives too and the Christmas period is a total jerk to everyone. Be mindful.

Below is a fairly comprehensive pricing guide for strains ranging from home-grown bush to hydroponic fruit:

Gram – $15-$25

Eighth (3.5g) – $45-$70

Quarter (7g) – $80-$120

Half (14g) – $140-$220

Ounce (28g) – $240-$400

These prices are usually for pick up, which you will need to factor in your own transport for obviously. If you want delivery, it’s reasonable that you should expect to pay an extra amount. Check Uber for an estimate regarding fuel if they’re asking for an odd amount. It may be cheaper and safer for you to use public transport discretely, but an Uber is always paramount to safety assuming you’re not carrying irresponsibly.

Installing, Configuring and General Wickr Advice

This is a quick throw-together I wrote showing how you can install Wickr on your laptop. Having someone message you on Wickr at an inopurtune time can really tie you in a knot and ultimately it’s safer not having evidence just laying around on your phone. However, it is a necessary evil the majority of the time. Because of this, it is critically important that you configure your Wickr correctly.

Installing Wickr on Windows

Following these screenshots should be self-evident. You should have absolutely no issues with It on a laptop. Simply download the current executable and follow the installer. At the end, it will launch. You can now create an account.

Step 1. Download the latest executable and run it.

Step 2. You’ll be prompted with this screen. Click Next.

Step 3. Choose wherever you want to install the program.

Step 4. Go ahead and install the application.

Step 5. It will take a few moments to minutes depending on your computer.

Step 6. You’re all set. Click to Finish to launch and you’re done.

Step 7. Now the application will open. Either login to your existing mobile account, which will not sync conversations so I suggest you install both the portable and desktop application at the same time. You can now configure Wickr properly.

Installing Wickr on an Android/iPhone

Notice: You should be competent at installing applications on your mobile device by this point. Simply follow the process on your chosen platform’s app store and you will be prompted with a similar screen and a similar configuration process.

Configuring Wickr on Any Platform

The first of the two steps we need to take to ensure our conversations remain private is to set a Burn-on-Read timer, which once our contact has opened and read the message, our message is set to delete itself off both devices within a set time frame. In this case, thirty minutes is our timer until it will delete itself. To configure this on any platform, simply click the fire icon.

Figure 1. The Burn-on-Read timer function.

Secondly, we need to set an expiry date so that if our messages don’t get opened, they will still delete themselves off both devices in the conversation. To do this, follow the same process as before and click the clock icon.

Figure 2. The expiration time function.

This process should be fairly self-evident no matter what  you’re using. Google it if you run into problems. Never send messages before you’ve configured yourself.

With all this in mind, stay safe girls. None of us want to see a sister get hurt or scammed. Share this site around with your friends. The more of us who are in the know, the fewer of us end up getting burnt.

If I missed anything, or you have something to add please let me know. Lots of love, you can catch me fluttering around on my Wickr: candyfairy.

[bfreelancing]

Something new, something borrowed, something...failed?

Hello World,

I can't take it anymore.

I just can't.

I have to tell someone all these stories, or I'm positively going to BURST.

So, this is me, starting a blog that no one will read. A blog basically for myself to chronicle my adventures as a freelance marketer; a blog that I can pretend people are reading so they can share in the hilarity of my adventures.

And I'm doing this anonymously - or as anonymously as one can be on the internet. I'm not going to share client names or locations or anything like that. If I use people's names, they will be changed. BUT, these stories can be crazy and specific so if it sounds like you, then it most likely is. Sorry. (Not really).

My life got a little off track at the beginning of 2021. No, not because of COVID (though that did add to the whole ordeal). I had a personal matter take over my life. I couldn't search for new clients. In fact, I barely managed to hang on to my old clients.

But that ordeal is now over. And I find myself with more time on my hands. And not nearly enough money to pay off all my debt (we're talking student loans AND credit card debt incurred during COVID trying to keep my family afloat - oh, and not to mention the taxes I owe the government for 2020).

I have once again started the *interesting* journey of reaching out to companies in the hopes of gaining new freelance clients.

What do I do, exactly? Marketing. But really anything a company needs. I once helped a company get a new phone system. I work completely remotely (I've done so for several years before COVID made it the cool thing to do) and never visited their building which was several states away. Did I know anything about phone systems before that? Nope. But I do now.

I try to stick to marketing, though: website design and development, social media management, graphic design, photography, videography, blogging, etc...if companies give me a chance, that is.

I've done this for seven years now. SEVEN. I can't believe it's been that long. Where does the time go? Have y'all seen the movie The Last Holiday with Queen Latifah? There's a line in that which has stuck with me over the years. I can't find the exact quote online (come on, Google, you're letting me down), but it's something like this: You put your head down, and you work, and you work, and you work, until one day you look up and think, how did I get here?

God, if that's not the truth. They told me growing up in school that I could be anything I wanted to be - that I would have the world at my feet, so long as I worked hard.

That was a lie.

I've worked hard. Harder than I ever thought I would have to. And I only have experience to show for it. Experience that still isn't enough. I'll never understand that.

How did I get where I am? In college, I had a family emergency. After I graduated, I moved back home to help my family. I was stunned to discover that my Bachelor of Science in ecological sciences provided me ZERO job opportunities at home. And I mean ZERO. I live in the country, but the city is only an hour away.

I'm in the Midwest. So, it's not like the city is HUGE like New York, but if I told you the city, you would 100% know it. Still, there were no opportunities.

I decided to go a different direction. Yep, you guessed it, MARKETING. Why? Because life threw me two more curve balls when I was in college, and instead of having multiple ecological internships, I had a few of those, but also a few marketing internships. Maybe one day I'll tell you about those.

But for now, you get the gist: I had two years of actual, real world marketing experience. I started applying to local marketing jobs. No one would hire me. When I was able to get feedback - which was few and far between - I was told that while my portfolio from my internships was impressive, the companies didn't like me because I didn't have a degree in marketing. Sure, I had a 4.0 GPA in all my science classes, and I graduated an entire year early. I was an officer in five clubs, a regular member in two others, worked five jobs, and took 21 hours of classes each semester. That wasn't enough. College told me I was well-rounded, but the real world could have cared less.

Thankfully, that didn't matter to the people from my internships. Several businesses I met from there begged me to help with their marketing. I started freelancing while searching for a full time gig elsewhere. Freelancing provided me a little money, but not enough.

I listened to all those people that told me they weren't happy with my degree, and I returned to college to get a master's degree in marketing. I completed it in a year.

With that under my belt, I started applying to places for a full time job - still freelancing on the side. I was barely making any money. But I was getting lots of experience. I can never thank my first clients enough. They would come to me and say things like, "Do you know how to use WordPress?" I would truthfully tell them no, but for a discounted rate I would figure it out for them. They took me up on the offer, and I learned invaluable lessons that way.

But it still wasn't enough. No one would hire me. Why? No idea. No one likes to give feedback these days. I guess too many applicants and not enough real people to respond to them.

So, I turned back to my freelancing and focused heavily on it. But then someone close to me suggested we start a business together. I thought maybe that was my chance, and jumped at it. I did that for three years before throwing in the towel. It took up too much time and the return just wasn't enough. But that same person offered me a job with their other company, and I took it.

Here's the deal about that, though: I went into the office every day. But I didn't work all day. I worked when projects came in and kept track of my time. When there weren't projects, I was allowed to freelance from my desk.

Those projects weren't enough to get me where I wanted to go. This was pre-COVID. This was a world where people didn't want to work remotely with other people. I received a few clients from referrals (thank you, sweet people!), but again, not enough.

When I say enough, I mean enough to pay off all my debt and get a house. That's all I've ever wanted in life: my very own house. That's my goal.

I'm not even close to attaining it at this point.

So, I start reaching out for full time jobs again. This time, I try to see if there are remote jobs available. I find one on the west coast. It seems like a dream, and the salary is great.

It was a complete nightmare. I'll tell you about that sometime too, but not today.

COVID hits, and they tell me my job is secure. They tell me they are going to give me a raise, after a job review. I go in for my job review and come out WITHOUT a job. Don't worry, I promise I'll tell you about that in another post.

What do I do? Go back to my tried and true freelancing. In a post-COVID world, EVERYONE wants to work with you remotely. It's amazing. I get new clients. I think I'm making progress.

Then my life is shattered due to a personal matter. Then tax season hits, and I realize that while I thought I was suffering during COVID with my freelancing, I actually made more money than ever. But didn't make my quarterly tax payments. The government wants an arm and a leg in exchange - literally.

I work out a payment plan with them, and I find that I'm completely broke. Barely able to make those payments, barely able to keep my credit cards UNDER the limit.

My personal matter slowly calms down. And I have a horrible realization: I've been doing this for SEVEN years, and I've gone absolutely nowhere. NOWHERE.

I don't judge my progress based on others. But, I thought by now I would have a house. I don't. I haven't paid off any student debt. My credit cards are now all pretty much maxed out thanks to COVID.

It's time to get my butt in gear, put my nose to the grindstone, and start reaching out to companies again to see if they need a freelancer's help.

Which brings me to my first official freelancer story, which I am sure you all will get a kick out of, if you read this far. Which I doubt you have. If you have, I'll love you forever. Feel free to message me, and I will legitimately tell you I love you. No joke.

So, to set the scene, it's a hot, humid Sunday. I'm inside. My air conditioner is broken, so I'm huddled next to a portable unit I purchased because I'm told that it will be a MONTH before my central air is fixed. I'm not moving a lot, trying to keep cool. The TV is on with old movies I've seen a thousand times playing in the background: old, familiar friends that make me happy, cheering me on while I search job boards for freelancing positions.

I find one for a web designer. It sounds dreamy. A company is looking for someone with a little bit of HTML experience, that they can train to use their brand new web design platform. I would be making templates for them, and their price per hour is exactly what I charge. I'm excited at the thought of learning something new, and I'm excited to find a company that's willing to teach me!

I immediately apply. I receive an automated response back that they want me to take a personality test, which I promptly do.

The questions are simple ones, that I know will reflect my hard-working nature. One question asks: You've had an event planned in your personal life for several weeks. When it comes time to leave work early for the event, your boss says that there's an emergency project they need your help on. What do you do? Do you...A) Stay on after you expected to leave then go to the event later....B) Go to the event....C) Ask a team member to do the project for you...and some other option I can't remember.

I choose A. That's the person I am (except for that nightmare job I mentioned awhile back, but that's REALLY for another post, so I need to stop mentioning it).

Another question asks: Your plate is full, and your time is completely booked, but a team member comes up to you, asking for help on their project. Do you...A) Put aside your work to help your team member...B) Tell your team member you're busy and to go ask someone else...and two other options I don't remember that are basically B, just repeated in different wording.

I choose A. Again, that's who I am. If I'm crazy busy and you come to me for help, I might be a bit cranky and stressed, but I'm going to set aside what I'm doing to help you. I'm not going to kick you to the curb.

But that's not what this company wants, apparently.

Why?

I submit the personality test, and it says that I FAILED it. Yes, it tells me that I FAILED the personality test. I'm still laughing about it. I guess companies want people that don't care about their coworkers and don't want to work? If so, that's definitely not me.

But how do you even fail a personality test? Who even knew that you COULD fail a personality test? Not me. Though I do know now.

What made it funnier? About an hour after being told I failed the test (which, by the way, was the WORST I have ever done on a test, so there ya go), I received a notification that said I was moving onto the next step in the application process. I just had to answer *one* more question: why am I a good fit for this job?

The answer I wanted to give? Because I want it. The answer I actually gave? A real one, full of bull to make everyone feel better about themselves.

Will I get this position? Probably not once a human gets involved and sees I failed. I think right now I'm just in their automated process.

Still funny though. I'm the girl that failed the personality test. I feel like I need to go make a t-shirt about that now.

That's all for now folks, thanks for sticking with me through this long read. Can't wait to see you back for more!

-B

[byeoltan]

Did You Know?

that in BTS ‘봄날 (spring day)’ MV, the train station that showed taehyung waiting in the beginning is actually a real train station, iryeong station in yangju city, gyeonggi-do, albeit an abandoned one, since they only transport cargo now.

and that the music video is one helluva train ride to a place where there stood a tall tree, the place where they got together and come in terms with grief and hardships in life because the cold winter does end at some point, and spring comes. but let’s talk about that later :) lets, lets talk about the very first lines namjoon uttered so carefully, such vulnerable words

i miss you saying it like this makes me miss you even more even looking at your photos, i miss you ain’t time so heartless i..hated us the us who now can’t even look at each other’s face even once

보고 싶어/bogoshippeo means ‘i miss you’, an informal, casual tone that you can use freely to significant others, friends, families, it literally means ‘i want to see you’ but essentially, it means, ‘i miss you’, here, though, namjoon used 보고 싶다/bogoshipda, which is also an informal word, but a non-conjugated form of 보고 싶어/bogoshippeo, it holds a slightly different meaning than just ‘i miss you’ because it’s not a verb. 보고 싶다/bogoshipda for lack of better words, is an expression of longing, and carries a deeper emotion than just i miss you, kinda like a monologue (?) cos he’s not saying it to someone in particular, the expression feels a bit colder, which is ironic cos then he went on about how cold time is for making him missing someone.

this place is all winter, even in august winter comes it’s like my heart/mind races with time the lonely ‘snowpiercer’ who travelled to the south (i want to) while holding your hands, go all the way to the other side of the earth i wish i could end this winter, i wonder, friend, how much does the longing should fall like snow for spring day to come?

설국열차 is the korean title for the movie ‘snowpiercer’, also the name of the train in the movie that holds the last remnants of humanity after an attempt at climate engineering in order to stop global warming has unintentionally created a new ice age. essentially, ppl in the train thought no life can exist outside of the train, not knowing there is (a polar bear), which showed up at the end of the movie. i thought it was brilliant how namjoon referenced this movie, it’s like he’s saying no matter how hard circumstances can be, no matter how hard you think you have it, there is always hope, there is always a way out, there’s always spring after a cold cold winter, even when it seems impossible, you can have your cake and eat it

(or not ;p) 

the lyrics in this song isn’t that hard to comprehend tbh it’s quite straightforward but the way they express it is both poetry and cynicism at its best, and despite the repetitive chorus the song is atcually quick and full, leaving nothing short of amazement. 

like the tiny dust that floats/flies in the air if i’m the snow that flies in the air  i would’ve reached you a little faster 

my heart swells a little here, because they are reiterating what namjoon says about wanting to hold hands so we can end this winter together, that they want to, if only they’re with us, doesn’t it soothe your heart a little? knowing there are people out there who knows how cold life can be, and wants to get to us quickly so we could the end it together 

and when some of the members lament

the snowflakes are falling little by little bit more, they fall i miss you (i miss you) how much longer do i have to wait and how many more nights do i have to stay up, to see you? will i ever get to meet you?

the others be consoling like, well,

after we pass by the end of cold winter until spring day comes once again until the flowers blossom at that place (even when it’s cold/even when you have to wait long), for a little while, please stay please stay

but then yoongi’s part came and i sobbed a little because it’s so??

i wonder if you have changed, or if i have changed. perhaps, i’ve changed. i hate the time that’s flowing at this very moment  i guess we have changed, huh i guess everyone does that, huh yeah, okay, i hated you but even when you left, there was never a day that i’ve forgotten about you and even though i actually miss you, i’m gonna erase you now cos that’ll hurt way less than blaming you

and it doesn’t help when both seokjin and jimin go on to say

i try to blow away the cold you who is like smoke, like white smoke even when i say i’m going to erase you the truth is i still can’t let you go

 /crieS/ which is why the ending gets me because

you know it all you’re my best friend the morning will come again no matter what kind of darkness or (bad) seasons  they can’t last forever

(and) it looks like cherry blossoms are blooming (now) and this winter too, is coming to an end i miss you  if i wait just a little bit longer if i stay up just a few more nights i will come to see you i will come to take you (away)

after we pass by the end of cold winter until spring day comes once again until the flowers blossom at that place (even when it’s cold/even when you have to wait long), for a little while, please stay please stay

i want to mention here that omelas referenced in the mv as we are all prob aware of by now, tells a story of how a child was kept hidden in a secluded place in the omelas city, with horrible conditions, in exchange of happiness of the entire city. and that the same tragedy also shares with children in the movie snowpiercer itself, where they were enslaved and used as replacement parts to keep the train functioning. to put it simply, children depicted in both stories were convinced to give their life for the continuation of a way of life that was totally oppressive to their own circumstances, which is extremely radical in a way that has deep resonance for our real world, like how can you stand being together in a society that is built from abuse and discrimination, entrenched inequality, and do nothing?

and it is precisely because of this, bangtan continues to voice out their opinions as they did in previous albums, and call out the perpetrators as well as the bystanders for everyhting that has gone wrong, that could go wrong, and that is going wrong in the society, especially in the events relating to their home country south korea

let me bring you back to the music video where jimin picked up the white shoes from the winter sea

the white shoes that middle-school/high school students wear in south korea

and how he carries the shoes all through out the mv

before he brought them to a tree after they all got off the train 

and hang them

these scenes imo is very much referenced to the sewol ferry tragedy that took place in april, 2014, the incident that had resulted in more than 300 deaths, including 250 second-year high school students and their teachers from danwon high school who were on a field trip that day, and is recognized as one of the most devastating maritime disaster in decades, and it’s not just because of a sinking ferry itself but because of willfull negligence and corruption.

fyi when the ferry was sinking, the captain of the ship and a number of cabin crew made announcement for the passengers to stay where they were when they themselves chose to abandon the ship while hundreds of people were still trapped inside. and being good citizens they all remained at their cabin, where they waited for further orders, which never came 

the members of crew who stayed to help passengers were among those who died. 

and the disaster doesn’t end there. it was found out later that the ship itself was illegally modified and was carrying almost double its legal limit with inexperienced crew and a questionable relationship between the ship operators and state regulators. the investigation was also conducted behind closed doors where the families are not permitted to observe the recovery operation, these allegations as well as  the way the government lacked transparency adds more to the lengthy laundry list of grievances souht koreans have against park geun hye’s administration. there were questions raised as to where she was when it happened that morning and why wasn’t the issue addressed publicly even 7 hours afterwards.

the yellow ribbons symbolize hope and solidarity with the families victims and i think it’s genius how they incorporate this knowing very well that they can be blacklisted from the government which is ridiculous at every level. the government was highly blamed for many lives lost that day, what with the lack of safety standards in the country, the families were also mostly left out of the investigation, there’s just so many dissatisfaction ppl have over park geunhye’s administration, and that itself is an understatement. and with bangtan and bighit donating 100 million won (approximately $85,000) to the sewol ferry disaster 416 family council, they are probably blacklisted already :/ 

the pile of clothing could also be a metaphor to ppl who left this world as exhibited by french artist christian boltanski’s work entitled ‘personnes’ as part of monumenta in 2010. i quote, “These grouped clothes may represent mass graves, or corpses arrayed for identification in the school gym, but they also constitute a kind of cemetery. For the experience is just the same: that there is nobody here and yet the place is crowded. Personnes, the piece is called: people, but at the same time no one.”

which is why even though tying shoes high on a tree branch or power lines have variation in meanings for different country and culture, there is one famous belief taht i think is what is meant here; that tying shoes high on a tree branch signifies someone has died and that the shoes belong to the dead person. that the reason they are hanging, is so when the dead person’s spirit returns, it will walk that high above the ground, that much closer to heaven 

and it would’ve been fineeeee to just reference spring day like this as a remembrance to the passing of the passengers and the beautiful children because the song DOES talk about grief and hardships in life, and that no matter what kind of darkness or (bad) seasons they can’t last forever 

but then bangtan had these lines that are repeatedly voiced melancholically all throughout the chorus until the very end of the song and i just–

after we pass by the end of cold winter until spring day comes once again until the flowers blossom at that place (even when it’s cold/even when you have to wait long), for a little while, please stay please stay

it’s as if bangtan is throwing shade at the captain and his crew for being dishonorable, asking the children to stay where they were ‘until the rescue boats arrive’ when they themselves were up and about ready to get out of the ship, 

it’s just. 

when the boys say these last lines it’s as if, it’s as if the boys are saying to the children that they know it’s hard to wait, but just stay there. it’s okay to stay there, i’ll come to you instead, yeah? just you wait there till i come to you so we can end this suffering together

[douchebagbrainwaves]

PRETTY STRAIGHTFORWARD

It had a programmable crawler that could crawl most of the great programmers he wanted. Considering how basic a red circle is, it seemed surprising to me when we started YC. That hurt Microsoft a lot starting in the 90s, will destroy you if you stay where you are, and much less on how old you are or not. In fact, it may not be permanent.1 So if you want to hire want to live there; supporting industries are there; the people you meet. In the Valley it's not only real but fashionable. We advise founders who go on to seek VC money to take the C model and the Lisp model. That would seem offensively curt. I wrote about labor unions.2 Young hackers can start viable companies. And that is more likely to make the medicine go down.

Investors have made trouble even for the most successful of that group by an order of magnitude. West coast investors are confident enough of their judgement to act boldly; east coast investors, the bursting of the Bubble would have been it. In 1450 it was filled with the kind of problems we deal with. In the earliest phase they tend to be more conservative. We assumed his logo would deter any actual customers, but it should be helpful to be in New York the number of startups does mean is that you won't be able to start startups than could before. And not just the time it takes, but that was enough to tell what I said that upset him: that startups would do better to move to your silicon valley. But seeing what startups are really like will at least show other organizations what to aim for. They've been the guys coming in to visit the big company, but they couldn't prevent you from taking one apart to see how it might be interesting to look at one day. The spirit of resistance to government, Jefferson wrote, is so valuable on certain occasions, that I wish it always to be kept alive. Not even investors, who are all nearly impossible to fire.

In other words, starting startups is currently like the plumbing in an old house. That's the sense in which the most efficient plan would be to discover surprising things.3 The other reason you need a lot of people to make a startup hub is that once you have enough people interested in startups.4 Object-oriented programming imposes a discipline on these programmers that prevents any one of them. I don't think they realize how much it matters that it's broken. The most striking example I know of schlep blindness is Stripe, or rather Stripe's idea. In big companies there's always going to have to do 7.

Their reputation with programmers used to be. That's schlep blindness.5 In that kind of money in a company with a lot of new areas. If they're going to build something, they want to be able to do everything; it just has to do something. People in the Valley.6 You'll notice we haven't funded any biotech startups. They haven't decided what to work on hard problems at all. We're talking about some pretty dramatic changes here.

If you look at the most advanced acquirers, identifying companies to buy is extremely ad hoc, and completing the acquisition often involves a great deal about our work that we use the same word for a brilliant or a horribly cheesy solution. A team that outplays its opponents but loses because of a bad decision by the referee could be called unlucky, but not so much that it paralyzes you.7 Sometimes it literally is software, like Hacker News and our application system. The old ideas are so powerful that even the most successful startup founders have had to struggle against them. The mobility of seed-stage startups means that seed funding is a national business.8 That's a completely different kind of animal—so much smaller that all the startups we fund can use for future rounds. It seems to me there is a limit on the number of startups per capita in each.9 Look at what a hard time getting software done. A country with only a few percent of the world's population.

Hotmail because Sabeer Bhatia and Jack Smith couldn't exchange email at work. The very best work has been done this way. It used to be that way in America too. He was the original young founder. Gone were the mumbling recitations of lists of features. But if you talk to startups, because students don't feel they're failing if they don't go into research. We funded one startup that's replacing keys.10 He was one of the most conspicuous trends in the last batch of startups we funded, in the short term. Few would be willing to claim that it doesn't matter at all where a startup is—that a startup operating out of a small, furry steam catapult.

Even if you could get a 30% better deal elsewhere? Its structure is an exoskeleton. But ambition is human nature.11 If there are three founders and one who was lukewarm leaves, big deal. When we started Y Combinator I said something to a partner at a well known VC firm that gave him the mistaken impression I was considering starting another startup. Half? It would be a good one.12 They're working on their software for a year or more, will be custom deals for the forseeable future. There's room not merely to equal Silicon Valley, and all they had to submit their code to an intermediary who sat on it for a month and then rejected it because it contained an icon they didn't like? Some people would make good founders, and others wouldn't. The lower the rate, the cheaper it is to buy stock in growing companies as opposed to real estate, or bonds, or stocks bought for the dividends they pay.

Imagine if, instead, you treated immigration like recruiting—if you made a conscious effort to seek out the smartest people and get them to come to America can even get in? Over and over, I've seen startups we've funded snatched by west coast investors out from under the noses of Boston investors who saw them first but acted too slowly. But though other fields may share it, I think a society in which people can do and say what they want. What's wrong with having one founder, like Oracle, usually turn out to have been temporary. Google pushed this idea further than anyone had before. Since we did continuous releases, our software didn't actually have versions. So we made some basic mistakes early on. IBM developing what they expected to be the most common emails we get is from people asking if we can help them set up a local clone of Y Combinator. The trick I recommend is to take advantage of those, people have to move.

Notes

With the good groups, just their sizes.

A variant is that the VC declines to participate in the general sense of not starving then you should. The original Internet forums were not web sites but Usenet newsgroups.

Who knew how much they can be said to have gotten away with the other hand, they may end up with an idea that was mistaken, and don't want to give them sufficient activation energy required. They each constrain the other people. And that is exactly my point.

In many fields a year, but that wasn't a partnership. Which in turn means the investment market becomes more efficient. Predecessors like understanding seem to them?

The biggest counterexample here is one of the technically dynamic, massively capitalized and highly organized corporations on the programmers had seen what GUIs had done for desktop computers. I'd appreciate hearing from you. Investors are often surprised by this, but the route to that knowledge was to backtrack and try to start a startup with a base of evangelical Christians.

Within YC when we created pets.

They may not be led by a combination of circumstances in the latter without also slowing the former.

Mitch Kapor's wife Freada was in logic and zoology, both of whom have become good friends.

But there seem to be something you can help in that water a while we can easily imagine.

Though you should push back on the ability to solve are random, they may then, depending on how much you get of the Web was closely tied to the traditional peasant's diet: they had to resort to raising money, but there has to split hairs that fine about whether a suit would violate the patent pledge, it's software that doesn't mean you suck. You leave it to be told what to outsource and what the US treat the poor worse than he was skeptical about Viaweb too.

But when you lose that protection, e. The Civil Service Examinations of Imperial China, during the war it was 94% 33 of 35 companies that we should remember this when comparing techniques for discouraging stupid comments have yet to find a blog on the back of your new microcomputer causes someone to tell how serious potential investors and instead focus on their appearance. A smart student at a time machine, how much you get stock as if the company than you think you'll need, you could get a poem published in The New Industrial State to trying to decide whether you're in the time they're fifteen the kids are convinced the whole story.

The obvious choice for your present valuation is fixed at the works of anthropology. They might not have gotten away with dropping Java in the general sense of being absorbed by the regular news reporters. This seems to be so obsessed with being published. But the margins are greater on products.

[butterflygalatic-blog]

Spring Day

Did You Know?

that in BTS ‘봄날 (spring day)’ MV, the train station that showed taehyung waiting in the beginning is actually a real train station, iryeong station in yangju city, gyeonggi-do, albeit an abandoned one, since they only transport cargo now.

and that the music video is one helluva train ride to a place where there stood a tall tree, the place where they got together and come in terms with grief and hardships in life because the cold winter does end at some point, and spring comes. but let’s talk about that later lets, lets talk about the very first lines namjoon uttered so carefully, such vulnerable words

i miss you saying it like this makes me miss you even more even looking at your photos, i miss you ain’t time so heartless i..hated us the us who now can’t even look at each other’s face even once

보고 싶어/bogoshippeo means ‘i miss you’, an informal, casual tone that you can use freely to significant others, friends, families, it literally means ‘i want to see you’ but essentially, it means, ‘i miss you’, here, though, namjoon used 보고 싶다/bogoshipda, which is also an informal word, but a non-conjugated form of 보고 싶어/bogoshippeo, it holds a slightly different meaning than just ‘i miss you’ because it’s not a verb. 

보고 싶다/bogoshipda for lack of better words, is an expression of longing, and carries a deeper emotion than just i miss you, kinda like a monologue (?) cos he’s not saying it to someone in particular, the expression feels a bit colder, which is ironic cos then he went on about how cold time is for making him missing someone.

this place is all winter, even in august winter comes it’s like my heart/mind races with time the lonely ‘snowpiercer’ who travelled to the south (i want to) while holding your hands, go all the way to the other side of the earth i wish i could end this winter, i wonder, friend, how much does the longing should fall like snow for spring day to come?

설국열차 is the korean title for the movie ‘snowpiercer’, also the name of the train in the movie that holds the last remnants of humanity after an attempt at climate engineering in order to stop global warming has unintentionally created a new ice age. 

essentially, people in the train thought no life can exist outside of the train, not knowing there is (a polar bear), which showed up at the end of the movie. i thought it was brilliant how namjoon referenced this movie, it’s like he’s saying no matter how hard circumstances can be, no matter how hard you think you have it, there is always hope, there is always a way out, there’s always spring after a cold cold winter, even when it seems impossible, you can have your cake and eat it

(or not ;p)

the lyrics in this song isn’t that hard to comprehend tbh it’s quite straightforward but the way they express it is both poetry and cynicism at its best, and despite the repetitive chorus the song is atcually quick and full, leaving nothing short of amazement.

like the tiny dust that floats/flies in the air if i’m the snow that flies in the air i would’ve reached you a little faster

my heart swells a little here, because they are reiterating what namjoon says about wanting to hold hands so we can end this winter together, that they want to, if only they’re with us, doesn’t it soothe your heart a little? 

knowing there are people out there who knows how cold life can be, and wants to get to us quickly so we could the end it together

and when some of the members lament

the snowflakes are falling little by little bit more, they fall i miss you (i miss you) how much longer do i have to wait and how many more nights do i have to stay up, to see you? will i ever get to meet you?

the others be consoling like, well,

after we pass by the end of cold winter until spring day comes once again until the flowers blossom at that place (even when it’s cold/even when you have to waited long), for a little while, please stay please stay

but then yoongi’s part came and i sobbed a little because it’s so??

i wonder if you have changed, or if i have changed. perhaps, i’ve changed. i hate the time that’s flowing at this very moment i guess we have changed, huh i guess everyone does that, huh yeah, okay, i hated you but even when you left, there was never a day that i’ve forgotten about you and even though i actually miss you, i’m gonna erase you now cos that’ll hurt way less than blaming you

and it doesn’t help when both seokjin and jimin go on to say

i try to blow away the cold you who is like smoke, like white smoke even when i say i’m going to erase you the truth is i still can’t let you go

/crieS/ which is why the ending gets me because

you know it all you’re my best friend the morning will come again no matter what kind of darkness or (bad) seasons they can’t last forever

(and) it looks like cherry blossoms are blooming (now) and this winter too, is coming to an end i miss you if i wait just a little bit longer if i stay up just a few more nights i will come to see you i will come to take you (away)

after we pass by the end of cold winter until spring day comes once again until the flowers blossom at that place (even when it’s cold/even when you have to waited long), for a little while, please stay please stay

i want to mention here that omelas referenced in the mv as we are all prob aware of by now, tells a story of how a child was kept hidden in a secluded place in the omelas city, with horrible conditions, in exchange of happiness of the entire city. 

and that the same tragedy also shares with children in the movie snowpiercer itself, where they were enslaved and used as replacement parts to keep the train functioning. to put it simply, children depicted in both stories were convinced to give their life for the continuation of a way of life that was totally oppressive to their own circumstances, which is extremely radical in a way that has deep resonance for our real world, like how can you stand being together in a society that is built from abuse and discrimination, entrenched inequality, and do nothing?

and it is precisely because of this, bangtan continues to voice out their opinions as they did in previous albums, and call out the perpetrators as well as the bystanders for everyhting that has gone wrong, that could go wrong, and that is going wrong in the society, especially in the events relating to their home country south korea

let me bring you back to the music video where jimin picked up the white shoes from the winter sea

the white shoes that middle-school/high school students wear in south korea

and how he carries the shoes all through out the mv

before he brought them to a tree after they all got off the train

and hang them

these scenes imo is very much referenced to the sewol ferry tragedy that took place in april, 2014, the incident that had resulted in more than 300 deaths, including 250 second-year high school students and their teachers from danwon high school who were on a field trip that day, and is recognized as one of the most devastating maritime disaster in decades, and it’s not just because of a sinking ferry itself but because of willfull negligence and corruption.

fyi when the ferry was sinking, the captain of the ship and a number of cabin crew made announcement for the passengers to stay where they were when they themselves chose to abandon the ship while hundreds of people were still trapped inside. and being good citizens they all remained at their cabin, where they waited for further orders, which never came

the members of crew who stayed to help passengers were among those who died.

and the disaster doesn’t end there. it was found out later that the ship itself was illegally modified and was carrying almost double its legal limit with inexperienced crew and a questionable relationship between the ship operators and state regulators. 

the investigation was also conducted behind closed doors where the families are not permitted to observe the recovery operation, these allegations as well as  the way the government lacked transparency adds more to the lengthy laundry list of grievances souht koreans have against park geun hye’s administration. there were questions raised as to where she was when it happened that morning and why wasn’t the issue addressed publicly even 7 hours afterwards.

the yellow ribbons symbolize hope and solidarity with the families victims and i think it’s genius how they incorporate this knowing very well that they can be blacklisted from the government which is ridiculous at every level. 

the government was highly blamed for many lives lost that day, what with the lack of safety standards in the country, the families were also mostly left out of the investigation, there’s just so many dissatisfaction ppl have over park geunhye’s administration, and that itself is an understatement. 

and with bangtan and bighit donating 100 million won (approximately $85,000) to the sewol ferry disaster 416 family council, they are probably blacklisted already

the pile of clothing could also be a metaphor to ppl who left this world as exhibited by french artist christian boltanski’s work entitled ‘personnes’ as part of monumenta in 2010. 

i quote, “These grouped clothes may represent mass graves, or corpses arrayed for identification in the school gym, but they also constitute a kind of cemetery. For the experience is just the same: that there is nobody here and yet the place is crowded. Personnes, the piece is called: people, but at the same time no one.”

which is why even though tying shoes high on a tree branch or power lines have variation in meanings for different country and culture, there is one famous belief taht i think is what is meant here; that tying shoes high on a tree branch signifies someone has died and that the shoes belong to the dead person. that the reason they are hanging, is so when the dead person’s spirit returns, it will walk that high above the ground, that much closer to heaven

and it would’ve been fine to just reference spring day like this as a remembrance to the passing of the passengers and the beautiful children because the song DOES talk about grief and hardships in life, and that no matter what kind of darkness or (bad) seasons they can’t last forever

but then bangtan had these lines that are repeatedly voiced melancholically all throughout the chorus until the very end of the song and i just–

after we pass by the end of cold winter until spring day comes once again until the flowers blossom at that place (even when it’s cold/even when you have to waited long), for a little while, please stay please stay

it’s as if bangtan is throwing shade at the captain and his crew for being dishonorable, asking the children to stay where they were ‘until the rescue boats arrive’ when they themselves were up and about ready to get out of the ship,

it’s just.

when the boys say these last lines it’s as if, it’s as if the boys are saying to the children that they know it’s hard to wait, but just stay there. it’s okay to stay there, i’ll come to you instead, yeah? just you wait there till i come to you so we can end this suffering together

[rossglobalexperiencesblog]

How to make friends in a foreign country

This summer, I chose to work at the Fundación Mario Santo Domingo in Barranquilla, Colombia. I knew from the beginning that Barranquilla wasn’t a very international city, especially when compared with my other internship offers in Buenos Aires and Mexico City. I also knew that I would be their only intern. I arrived terrified that I’d have no friends for 11 weeks due to both the lack of a formal intern program and the linguistic and cultural differences of Colombia.

My fears weren’t without reason, and I spend much of the first two weeks feeling lonely. It was hard as an introvert to put myself out there and make the first move with people, but I finally decided that I’d rather go through the awkwardness and occasional embarrassment of being aggressively social than spend the summer alone. Not everything I tried worked, and many of the people I met never followed up with me - but many did. I was fortunate to make amazing friends here, both Barranquilleros and other international visitors or immigrants that I plan to stay in touch with after I leave and hopefully visit one day soon. With my experience coming to a close, I’d like to share some tips I’ve learned on making new friends in a foreign country, for anyone considering studying or working abroad by themselves.

1.    Live with a host family or roommates. Living with a family provided the only social interactions I had during my first weekend here. I spent my first Saturday night listening to new reggaetón songs on the balcony with my older host brother and practicing my salsa moves. The next night, my younger host brother invited me to go see the Spanish-dubbed Deadpool 2 movie with him. Their efforts were the highlights of an otherwise tough weekend, and made me feel more optimistic about building a fulfilling social life here.

  2.    Look for social media groups for visitors and/or immigrants. I found a Facebook group called “Expats and Friends of Barranquilla”, and it was the key to much of my social life here. At the end of my first weekend, I uncharacteristically posted in the group that I was new and hoping to meet some people, and got 8 requests to hang out within hours. While I didn’t follow through on all of them, I met two of my best friends through that post. Both were Barranquilleras who’d joined at the recommendation of a friend.  I’m so glad that I allowed myself to be vulnerable in that group and meet new people, notably best friends who I hope to keep in touch with after moving back.

Of course, you have to be very careful meeting anyone off of the internet. I always checked photos beforehand, told people where I was going and when to expect to hear from me, and met in public spaces like malls or restaurants. The chance to make a new friend is great, but always remember your safety and security!

3.    Attend language exchange events. I went to a weekly language exchange event on Wednesday nights at an outdoor café near my apartment. I met a lot of friends through these exchanges, and got to learn a bunch of local phrases while sharing English tips as well. I’ll leave here with some fond memories of Wednesday nights, talking and laughing in the Caribbean breeze with the people I met every week.

4.    Don’t be embarrassed to go to touristy events and trips. When I arrived, I was really set on hanging out only with locals, and doing regular Colombian activities. However, I decided to go on a trip to a town called San Basilio de Palenque with a tourist group, La Cultura y Costa, and am glad that I took the risk. Many of the other attendees were American or Canadian, and shared insights on their lives here and the cultural differences they’d encountered. I stayed in touch with many long after the trip, and saw some sights outside of the city with these friends. As long as you balance your time with locals, there’s no shame in seeking out people who share your cultural background!

Again, don’t travel with a group without meeting and trusting a few people first. I was able to meet up with several attendees at the language exchange event before deciding I felt comfortable enough with them to go.

  5.    Share what interests you, or the experiences you’re looking for. I found that if you communicate your interests, you’re more likely to find people with those interests in common. This meant expressing my excitement at something that came up in a conversation, and maybe pushing it or following up with an actual plan. For example, I met an architecture student once at the language exchange, and shared how much I loved the architecture of the El Prado neighborhood and wanted to learn more about it. This turned into an invitation to eat lunch at his house, and an all-afternoon tour of El Prado and its architectural history. Sometimes, just communicating your passions is enough to help find people who share them.

  6.    Take your coworkers up on their offers, or initiate interest in hanging out yourself. Almost none of my coworkers were my age, so I initially didn’t expect to make many friends at work. As I got further into my internship, I got offers from my coworkers to hang out outside of work, such as going to the fish market for lunch, or going to their homes and meeting their families. I had a lot of fun hanging out with my coworkers off the clock, whether they were 10, 20 or 30 years older than me.

7.    Don’t be afraid to try something that deviates from your cultural norms. Due to UM safety norms and the suggestion of Colombian acquaintances, I had planned and budgeted to Uber to work for about $3USD. For the first half of my internship, I took an Uber to and from work every day. I loved practicing talking about myself in Spanish, and that each driver would inevitably compliment my language skills. I observed that many Colombians had trusted drivers, taxi or Uber drivers that they’d call up and pay in cash whenever they needed a ride. However, the thought of having a private driver was (literally) foreign to me and a little intimidating. Eventually, having the same conversation for 30 minutes twice a day got boring, and I started to reconsider. Soon thereafter, I got matched with an Uber driver for the second time, who offered to drive me for a little less than Uber charged. From then on, I drove with him every day, and enjoyed getting to know him and having a driver who cared about my wellbeing. I’m glad that I took a risk to try something that was culturally super different to me, and would recommend that anyone living abroad try the same, once in a while.

  8.    Most importantly, be compassionate with yourself. This holds true both before you make friends and after. I was smart to prepare myself to not have friends the first 1-2 weeks, because I would have been even more sad if I’d expected to magically meet people by the time the first weekend rolled around. I also reached out to my friends at home a lot that first weekend, and was open about needing some extra emotional support. It’s really important to have patience with yourself, and to not be afraid to reach out to your friends for support.

This is also true after you make new friends. I was so aware of my limited time here that I struggled to make time to be alone and recharge, because it felt like sacrificing a potential cultural or social experience. However, being abroad doesn’t mean that you have to be social or go out all the time. I enjoyed my overall experience more because of the nights I reserved to take care of myself, stay in and just relax. While everyone’s balance of social and solitary activities is different, listen to yourself, and respect what you need to be healthy and happy, no matter where you are in the world.

While I had to push myself out of my comfort zone to meet people, I’m so glad I took that risk. My favorite part about being in Barranquilla has been the friends I’ve made, and the experiences we’ve had together. I’ve been fortunate to both find a thriving community of new immigrants and visitors to the city, who’ve organized many excursions that local Barranquilleros wouldn’t be as interested in. However, I’ve been even more lucky to make many local friends who’ve gone above and beyond to include me into their lives. Those simplest of hangouts have meant the most – when my friends have invited me over to their houses, to hang out with their friends, to go out together, or to go to local events. It’s been incredibly rewarding to witness such authentic moments in Colombian life, and I will be forever grateful to the people who made my summer so special. I hope that these tips can help anyone considering going abroad make friends as amazing as I have here.

Charlene Franke Fundación Mario Santo Domingo, Entrepreneurial Development Intern Barranquilla, Colombia C.K. Prahalad Fellowship 

[itsasif007-blog]

Trump has sought to repurpose the trappings of nationalism for his own “America first” agenda

New Post has been published on http://liststories.com/trump-has-sought-to-repurpose-the-trappings-of-nationalism-for-his-own-america-first-agenda/

Trump has sought to repurpose the trappings of nationalism for his own “America first” agenda

It is so omnipresent, you longer notice it. On sticks outside the historic courthouse and a nearby office building. At a window screen at a kitchenware shop and on a heart-shaped table in an antique store. Above neatly mown lawns and porches of Victorian mansions along North Delaware Street. Beside the tomb of a US president emblazoned on the chest of a salesman as his car pulls out of the square.

The American flag, the stars, and stripes are flying high in Independence, Missouri, an unshowy city in what is literally middle America, preparing to celebrate Independence Day. The public holiday on 4 July celebrates the declaration of independence from the British in 1776 with barbecues, bunting, fireworks, parades, picnics and patriotic songs – reassuring rituals of Americana designed to guard against an identity crisis. However, this is 2018, Donald Trump is president and patriotism is much more complicated than usual.

“I’ve always been ra-ra when it comes to America but it’s difficult to believe this year,” explained Craig Whitney, a former teacher who hung the flag outside his home. In quiet, measured tones, the 70-year-old added:”I am very fearful. I believe we have already lost what my father fought for in world war two. Global democracy is on its way out. I’m increasingly pessimistic, I have to admit. I am convinced the [Republican party] and Trump has wrought damage which will last decades.”

I somehow believe there’s hope Regardless of Trump Craig Whitney

He has a habit of hugging the stripes and stars. He has repeatedly berated American football players for kneeling throughout the national anthem, in protest in racial injustice.

This 4 July, against a background of division and tribalism, some will embrace Trump’s eyesight of flag and nation. Others, in tens of thousands of different towns and cities north, south, east, and west, will try to preserve their own interpretation of Old Glory. Whitney, who resides in an 1893 house on North Delaware Street, said:”My sister is the world’s last remaining unreconstructed hippy. She asked me scornfully 1 time why I put out all the flags. I still somehow think there’s hope in spite of Trump.”

Asked what the flag means to him Whitney responded:”Partly my father, who had been a really flag waving sort of guy. Additionally, it symbolizes for me personally America can be, should be, should be, not necessarily is.”

I state with knowledge of this man that Harry Truman would be horrified by this. This Isn’t the world he battled for Debbie Twyman

His wife, Debbie Twyman, grew up in Independence, a Midwestern town of 121,200 individuals, 10 fire stations, 1 police station and one hospital which in the 19th century has been the primary”jumping-off” point for three leader trails west. Only a decade ago, the town was branded as that the methamphetamine capital of America (a dishonour it’s worked to shake ). “Neighbours tend to care for each other here,” Twyman said. “It’s a little town town. I can provide you the name of everyone on the street and on July 4 they will all be in backyard having hot dogs and hamburgers. They shoot off fireworks down the street and we’ll be able to see them”

“He was a really kind man and stopped and spoke to little kids like me. He was able to tell me that I should run for office and likely in my life we could have a woman president.

“I’d like to believe I’m a patriot and I see the great things my country has done and hopefully will. I’m deeply distressed when I see children ripped from their mothers [beneath Trump’s family separation policy at the border]. I say with knowledge of the guy that Harry Truman would be horrified by this. This is not the planet he fought for.” Craig Whitney and Debbie Twyman relax in their porch.

Across the street, American and Italian flags fly side by side outside the home of Linda Robinson. She explained:”Exchange students say they would like to stay in LA or San Francisco but Gaia stated,’That is the real America. This is the way it is. This is the way in which the vast majority of Americans live.’ She is right: we’re not flying setters. They estimate America by what they see on TV: a lot of Hollywood wealthy and famous. They think everyone has a giant car and a big house.”

“I do not care what anybody says, I think America is the best country in the world. Patriotism to me is standing from the country. It is like standing by anyone; you don’t always agree with them but you’ll always love them. The core values are there. I believe we’re a strong country and nobody has been on precisely the exact same page but we have managed to exist together.

As soon as he is out of office, if we could find someone with manners and diplomacy, we’ll calm down a little bit Linda Robinson

“I think somehow America will endure. The moment he is out of office, if we can find someone with manners and diplomacy, then we’ll calm down a bit. Following the election, I had to calm my daughter down and told her: just take it one day at a time, he’s not going to be there forever, someone else will come in a reverse everything he did. Sometimes in your life, there is a dip. We are at a dip right now but I think we will rise again.”

Along North Delaware Street, at the home of Stephanie Dean and household, the stars and stripes had been from flying a rod at the front garden, while two more flags rose out of plant ships either side of the doorway. She explained:”To me, it symbolizes hope that, when we are not divided, we can still come together to grow and learn and manage everyone the very same rights.”

Dean, 32, a warrior, included:”Patriotism means taking pride in your country. I am an American but that’s only part of who I am. That is not a basket I am going to throw my eggs into because that shuts the door to other men and women. It’s great to be conscious of where you are from but it’s not the be all and end all.” ‘A silent American’

Independence Square is dominated by a 1933 redbrick courthouse with classical pediment and columns beneath a clock tower and weather vane, surrounded by impeccably cut grass. Outside the west entrance is a statue of former president Andrew Jackson on horseback; outside the east entrance is a statue of Truman with spectacles, tie and suit and cane, standing on a plinth over a flower bed. Jim Allin, proprietor Window Cleaning, squeegees a storefront window across from the Truman Courthouse on Independence Square. Photograph: Julie Denesha for the Observer

The surrounding shops include an art gallery, law office, a vendor of audio gear, a”pet resort” and a physical therapist. But they’re punctuated by some empty lots marked “for rent” or using”lease this space”, one nonetheless advertising long has gone raincoats and underwear. At one corner are Clinton’s Soda Fountain, an ice cream and milkshake parlor that was once a drugstore in which the young Truman worked, rather similar to young George Bailey in It’s a Wonderful Life. The Neighborhood is Wild About Harry, a men’s gift, and accessories shop, and also the art deco Pharaoh cinema. At another corner is Up Dog, a timeless diner with an impending hot dog eating contest.

If you’ve got a good system you need to reside, not thump your chest and yell,’We’re number one!’

In many ways this is every town; others it is atypical. The dancer Ginger Rogers was born here. Truman moved to Independence when he was six and returned to humble retirement here after his presidency, which included the still bitterly debated decision to drop two atomic bombs on Japan to hasten the conclusion of the second world war. The Harry S Truman Library and Museum, which obviously includes the US flag flying at the entrance, provides a study in contrast with the present incumbent of the White House.

Truman was the son of a farmer, worked many jobs, accrued debts, failed to attend university, laboured to a farm, fought in the first world war (joining up as a bespectacled 33-year-old), opened a clothing store that went out of business and rose to the US Senate and then the presidency — an embodiment of the American dream. Following his stunning 1948 election triumph, he also sent a telegram to the Washington Post that read:”Despite your editorial opposition to the Democratic ticket, your news coverage of my effort was fair and comprehensive.” In a glass case the museum displays the signal, “The buck stops here”, that sat on his desk at the Oval Office. Near the graves of both Truman and his wife, Bess, a quotation is inscribed in stone:”The truth is I need for history.”

Most significantly, the museum argues that Truman “reversed the long American tradition of isolationism” and chronicles his role from the Marshall Plan, the formation of Nato, recognition of Israel and military intervention in Korea — that the stewardship of a postwar liberal democratic arrangement that Trump now threatens to unravel.

Clifton Truman Daniel, who had been six before he discovered that his grandfather was president, recalls parading around Independence atop a fire engine one 4 July, in sweltering heat. He expects this year’s commemorations throughout the country will not be contaminated by the political climate. “If anything, I expect it would be a time to get less disunity and, regardless of their political differences, people celebrate their shared background,” the 61-year-old said by phone. Park guide Alex Joeckel carefully folds a flag. Photograph: Julie Denesha for your Observer

What does the flag mean? “It is a sense of pride but I’d consider myself a silent American. I’m glad I live here as Winston Churchill explained,’Democracy is the worst type of government except for all those other forms which have been tried.’ I’ve a quiet pride: if you’ve got a good system you should live it, not tell folks about it. My grandfather was proud of those values we hold dear but he was also a modest man and did not feel needed to beat anyone over the head with it.” ‘A fine line’

Josh Olah, 23, an ironworker, said:”He is fine. There are always issues with everybody. He does his job.”

Sitting under the Truman statue as well as an American flag, Olah summed the latter up in 1 word:”Freedom.”

Nationalism, fascism, and patriotism: that’s a fine line there Michael Thomas

Eileen Weir, that the mayor of Freedom, said:”I’d say that the people in my communities encouraged to a large amount the Republican president and who causes me to really change my thinking on some issues and understand what my community wants. I think the president has an opportunity to really make some fantastic policy choices.

“I’m concerned, as a lot of people are, in regards to the immigration problems but I think he has made some good decisions on tax policy. Every president has losses and wins and I am rooting for President Trump that he has more wins than losses.”

Weir, 50, who expects to expand the town’s 4 July parties, added: “Freedom is obviously the house of Harry Truman, historically a very Democratic city, and we observe that that is shifting. I feel it’s my responsibility to respond to what the Republicans want and supply them what with what they want.”

However, Trump’s brand of flag-waving is a turn off to many here. The Nazis were quite nationalistic and patriotic. Trump’s opinion is: if you don’t agree with what he says and wrap yourself in the flag, then you are unpatriotic. I strongly disagree with this.”

The stars and stripes have played many pieces. It has additionally been commodified in hats, socks, ties, towels, and underpants.

At sunset in Independence Square on Thursday,” Thomas Reddell, 23, a insulation, was wearing a vest patterned entirely out of the flag, with the celebrities on his upper right chest. He said:”Many of my family is in the army and I am grateful for what they do to let us be free without having to think about other countries bullying us.”

His perspectives on the current flag-hugging president were blended. “Donald Trump is arrogant. There are a number of things I agree with and others where I believe he is a complete fool. He spoke his mind and that is what America is all about so I’m proud in that respect, but he makes us sort of look like assholes. He is trying to split us but I also understand that Americans aren’t going to let that happen.

” We’ll have another president shortly and he’s not that important. A president is for four or eight years but America has been excellent for 200 years, so 1 man can’t change this.”

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