#it's at a youth club/after-school center and they want me to help out at the art department because they saw in my application that

[crimsoncowl]

I've never actually been excited to start at a job or anything like that before, but I start my new job (technically it's an internship) on monday and I'm actually really looking forward to it :)

[0-n-1-x]

WBC!Carl Gallagher x Rich/Northside!reader

link to my masterlist <33

Your private school requires you to do community service, and you’re assigned to help out at a youth center in the Southside. It’s far from your usual environment, and you feel a bit out of place, but you’re determined to make the best of it. You could've gone to the pet center, like the other girls your age, but you desperately needed to get out of suburbia. Carl, who occasionally visits the center for free meals or to hang out, notices you the moment you walk in. You’re clearly not from around here, and he’s instantly curious about why someone like you would be spending time in his hood. At first, Carl’s interactions with you are laced with sarcasm and teasing. He pokes fun at your clean-cut appearance and the way you seem so out of your element, but there’s no real malice behind his words— mostly curiosity. I mean remember this is still Carl, just in the body of a wanna-be gangster

You actually responded to his quips just as quickly as he spoke them, but you also spoke with interest, most of it in your appearance

I'd believe that you aren't full a nepo baby, I like to headcanon that you'd be half or part southside, having spent time there young and maybe one of your parents married rich and such

But you do know how to make your words somewhat powerful, and that intrigues Carl, in a different way than trying to scam the other kids

You’re organizing supplies in the back room of the community center, stacking boxes of canned goods for the food drive. It’s your second day volunteering here, and you’re still getting used to the place. The door creaks open, and you glance up to see the same boy from yesterday leaning against the frame, watching you with an amused smirk. “You lost or something? This isn’t exactly the country club.” he says. Crossing his arms, he saunters into the room, eyes glinting with curiosity. Without missing a beat, you straighten up, brushing the dust off your hands before replying

“I could say the same thing. You don’t look like you’re here to volunteer.”

“Nah, just checking out the new blood. It’s not every day we get someone like you around here. You sure you can handle it? This place can get a little rough.”

“I’m tougher than I look. Besides, I’m not here to play it safe.”

“Is that right? Most people like you wouldn’t last a day down here. You must really be slumming it to end up in this part of town.”

“Real, huh? Well, you definitely found it. But be careful—get too close, and this place might suck you in.”

“Maybe I’m counting on it. I like a challenge, I guess I’ll just have to see for myself.”

He grins, finally extending a hand "Gallagher, Carl Gallagher" You reach for his hand, “Nice to meet you, Carl. Now, are you gonna help me with these boxes, or just stand there and look all pretty?”

After a few days of volunteering, (its mostly you guys talking) he invites you out with him on a 'tour'. You visit The Alibi, his corner, and he ends the trip by taking you to his house

The Gallagher house, if you could call it that, was way different than yours. Not just in size, but in functionality, you hear 3 different people screaming talking and a baby crying with loud video games noises in the background. Luckily, when Carl takes you to the basement which of course resembles what you identify as a 'mancave' there's no one there and its mostly silent

"So.. nice family uh- ya got there?" you joke, slightly uncomfortable in the bean bag he sits you on, the pleats of your plaid skirt ruffling up and you don't miss the way his eye flicker down and the way his cheeks blush peach "Um, y-yeah, it's not always like that but it usually is"

For Carl: it's weird that he's drawn to you, southside kids are literally raised to the 'eat the rich' mindset. Especially Gallaghers, but he couldn't help but want to spill everything he knows and even what he doesn't to you. So he does, he tells you about juvie, about the dysfunctionality of Gallaghers and their shit, fuck he even tells you about Monica

You guys talk for what comes across as hours. Part of him is scared that he opened up to quickly, but surprisingly you listen, without judgement. You even mention how you find some of his life similar to yours. The feelings of being ignored, or in your case paid to go away (which Carl finds not too bad).

As you speak, he moves from his beanbag chair to yours, inching and inching closer together you eventually are a breaths away from one another. You halt your speech, all your well thought out analogies fading away as you both look between the other's eyes and lips.

Carl speaks, "is it crazy.. that I find it really hot when you talk about being rich?" you pause, a sly smile reaching upon your face as you answer "no.. is it crazy that i find it really hot when you talk about being poor?"

More silence fills the room, then Carl brings his eyes straight down to your lips. "No" he whispers, as light as humanly possible

And that's when it happens. you lean in, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek. His touch is surprisingly gentle, a stark contrast to the rough-and-tumble image he usually projects. You close your eyes, leaning into his touch. The kiss starting out rushed, messy, and all over the place. But it's not lustful, more childish if anything and you both have no idea what you're doing.

His hand hesitantly moves to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss. You respond in kind, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, pulling him even closer

When you finally pull back after what feels like forever, you’re both breathless, panting as your bodies gasp for air. Carl’s thumb gently returns and strokes your cheek, his eyes searching yours for any sign of regret. But all he finds is a soft smile and the lingering warmth of the kiss you just shared.

“Damn,” he mutters, a crooked grin spreading across his face as he leans back slightly, still keeping you close. “You’ve got me all messed up, you know that?" you respond

Then it hits you, that was your first kiss

and it was with Carl fucking Gallagher

[astriiformes]

u (asexual) were not always included in the lgbt community 😭 y’all started existing in 2008 after the hard work was all done don’t lie

Usually I wouldn't reply to a message like this -- it was sent in response to a post that included plenty of examples of historical ace and aro involvement in what we now think of as the queer community, and was obviously sent just to be inflammatory and get an upset reply. I'm secure enough in my ace and aro identity -- and have more then enough allo, queer friends who consider me a part of their community -- that mean asks on tumblr aren't about deter me from my activism, both in the aro/ace sphere and the broader queer one.

But this particular anonymous ask just so happens to be one of the most astonishingly self-centered, short-sighted examples of ace hate I've ever gotten, so let's have a little talk about what's going on here.

Anon, it takes a special kind of person to claim the hard work is done and over on Trans Day of Remembrance, when we are mourning at minimum 32 people who were killed in the United States for being transgender in this last year -- and at least 327 people globally; on the heels of 2021 being the single worst year the Human Rights Campaign has recorded for trans murders on the United States, and when just yesterday night, 5 people were murdered and another 25 injured in a shooting at a queer club. When 2022 has seen the highest number of pieces of anti-LGBTQIA+ legislation filed in the United States on record -- many but not all targeted at not just trans people, but trans youth. When states like Texas and Florida are sending social workers after parents who support their children's gender transition and scaring queer and trans teachers out of schools. When there is an increasing movement to ban books featuring queer stories from schools and libraries across the United States -- including ones like Maia Kobabe's Gender Queer, which talks extensively about the author's aromantic and asexual identity as well as their gender journey. When TERF rhetoric dominates the news and political spheres in the United Kingdom, and British trans folks face horrific waits of three, four, five, and more years to access lifesaving care as the number of providers in the country who can offer it to them dwindles. When queer Ukranians are speaking out about the danger the invasion of their homeland by a country with a number of trans- and queerphobic laws in place puts them in (and when queer Russians have been living under those laws for some time now). When queer and trans people all over the world are watching all of this with worry for ourselves and the people we love.

What part of that is easy? What part of the hard work is done? Trans and queerphobic sentiments are on the rise and you seem to think you have some kind of laurels to sit on -- and worse, some kind of moral superiority. Tell me you aren't involved in the fight without telling me you aren't involved in the fight.

I (asexual) happen to have marched in a protest for trans rights in below-freezing weather this week. I had a conversation with the vice-president of my university's queer student organization about how I'd like to get involved in leadership next year. I helped talk a peer down from feeling suicidal when she came into the queer student center crying. I have also been talking a lot lately with my queerplatonic partner about how much happier she is having learned to embrace her ace identity and how much more comfortable she is in an ace relationship. I have been fighting for this community out on the streets while you decided the best use of your time was to hide behind anonymity and try to tear someone fighting for you down.

Because guess what, anon? Even if you want to pretend this fight -- that, yes, ace and aro people have been in all along -- is over, I don't think you deserve to have your right to marry taken away just because you grew complacent any more than I deserve to have a doctor make belittling comments towards me while I hold my queerplatonic partner's hand in the ER just because we're not married. (And yes, the latter actually happened to me this year, in this oh-so-easy world where all the fighting's done and where ace people were apparently never victims in the first place.) You're a bully, but you're human, and my queer advocacy doesn't exclude anyone -- even jerks.

I've been identifying as aromantic and asexual since I was 16 years old. In the last decade, I've received dozens of messages like this, and had hundreds of other horrible judgements slung at me in the reblogs of my posts. I've had people I marched with in Pride parades say insensitive things about my identities the very same day. I've watched other ace and aro friends bear similar trauma at the hands of our own community and We're. Still. Here.

My friends from the university's ace and aro club marched side-by-side with me in the snow, with handwarmers stuffed in our gloves, to protest earlier this week. Another of my aro/ace friends founded a queer affinity group in a major international charity club that has hundreds of members worldwide now, supporting each other and forging life-long friendships. Another ace friend is on a committee at my university fighting for more gender-neutral restrooms on campus. I've helped queer friends move from unsupportive homes and spoken at others' weddings when most of the rest of their family refused to show up. The queer community is my home, and it's an honor and a privilege to fight for it, even if it's a tragedy to still have to. I don't have to prove I belong here.

But you -- who seem to to think that tearing down someone different from you, in a community that's been about being different from the start, is the pinnacle of activism? You might.

[phantomchick]

Katekyo Hitman Reborn Fic Rec List

[this could’ve been] a villain’s origin story by petroltogo

* The fic that singlehandedly reeled me back into this fandom and launched my deep dive Summary: Superhero/Supervillain AU: All Sawada Tsunayoshi wants to do is help people. Considering his occupation as a Vongola Inc. superhero, you'd think that wouldn't be much of a problem. You'd be wrong. [Then again, 'people' isn't supposed to include wanted supervillains.]

-

For the Love of the Game by metisket

Summary: In which Yamamoto wanders through life smiling, joking, and terrifying bystanders. It strikes him as weird that he’s had to struggle not to kill people, that it’s been such a challenge. He’s pretty sure that for most people, not being a murderer is way easier than being one.

-

That Sawada Group by HeavenlyDusk

Summary: For those who went to middle school with Sawada Tsunayoshi, him and his friends are still a little bit terrifying. For those who didn't go to middle school with Sawada Tsunayoshi, him and his friends are incredibly confusing. For the Tenth Generation of Vongola, they just want to get through high school.

-

Countdown by metisket

Summary: A series of vignettes about Tsuna, his guardians, and the people closest to him—snapshots of the impact they all have on each other (and that life has on them) over ten years. He never wanted to stand out, not in either direction. Is that really too much to ask? He’s not asking for great! He’s asking for normal, normal. Apparently it is too much to ask. Apparently it’s always going to be all or nothing with him.

-

Tsunahiki by metisket

Summary: Tsuna's ongoing, sort of unwilling attempts to be everything to everyone.

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If You Can't Beat 'Em by metisket

Summary: Hana finds that it’s difficult to take care of your best friend when your best friend has all the self-preservation instincts of a lemming. Hana doesn’t know how this happened. No, wait, she does know how it happened. Kyoko made that pleading face, and Hana is weak to the pleading face. She knew Kyoko made poor life choices, but she didn’t realize they were contagious.

-

On the Outside by metisket

Summary: Iemitsu’s disturbing youth and misadventures in parenting. “You have a kid?” Lal Mirch looks betrayed by the world. “You? A kid? Aren’t there laws against people like you breeding?” Cw: For domestic abuse at start of fic

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The Dead and the Forsworn by metisket

Summary: Hibari is starting to doubt that his carefully ordered world will ever recover from Sawada Tsunayoshi.

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What We Fought For by metisket

Summary: The KHR mafia and the real world mafia collide. It’s like a celebrity deathmatch. Tsuna loved Naples from the start. Reborn had trained him to love things that might kill him at any moment, after all.

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Target Practice by elanor_pam

Summary: Gokudera did not expect the Tenth to wait for the Archery Club's activities to finish. Tsuna did not expect to become the Archery Club's center of attention. The Archery Club did not expect Tsuna to look so good when concentrating.

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Break These Chains on Me by Luki

Summary: Tsuna has never wanted to be a mafia boss. Nobody else seems to understand this. Perhaps its time to make them.

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Strange Cravings by wyrvel

Summary: Tsuna comes down with a vicious case of the cuddles. (Platonic Tsuna/Guardians. Set directly before the Rainbow arc.)

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Wasted Youth by Luki

Summary: If he was honest, Lambo would admit that he had never thought about the flip side of the ten year bazooka. It hadn't occurred to him that for every time he went into the future, eventually, future him would be sent back.

-

Gentle is the Rest of Those Who Lead with Love by natcat5

Summary: The Boss is sleeping again.

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shooting yourself in the foot (... or not) by AthanatosOra

Summary: And as Tsuna looks between his steadily bleeding foot and Reborn, he decides, "Definitely not."

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The Under-Under-Under Secretary by Autumnassassin

Summary: Gabriela Ciprani is just a secretary for the Vongola Famiglia, not even a main secretary, just one of the under-under-under secretaries. She lets people in, sorts low-ranking emails, and does her job quietly. But the Decimo looks tired and Gabriela is tired of everyone bursting in and bothering him more.

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Top of the Food Chain by Skygem

Summary: In Tsuna's first year of high school, his location becomes common knowledge in the Vongola, causing a surge of transfer students to Nami High. The Decimo has calmed down some in the past 2 years, so when he comes back to school after a 2 day absence to suddenly find himself at the top of the food chain, he takes it all in stride…or so it seems. Entry for Class and Mafia challenge.

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Of Badassery and Leveling Up by jeleania

Summary: In which Tsuna is hella capable in a fight, Takeshi realizes he needs to up his game if he's gonna hang with the brunet, and Tsuyoshi is surprised by his son and his son's friend.

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Smile by dandelion_san

Summary: In which Tsuna stops giving a shit after one too many fights.

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Barring Bookings, Bail and Bondage by ravenromance27

Summary: There are laws. There are people who follow the law; people that break the law and people who administer the law. There are Mafia. There are mafia men who follow the law; mafia men who break the law and mafia men who administer the law. Then there is the Vongola, who follow the law and break the law. And then there is the Decimo's Vongola - who defines their own law.

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Tsuna Explains the Mafia in Under Thirty Minutes by grainjew

Summary: (and, considering that it took long enough to just get past the whole thing where a cursed baby with a gun showed up in his living room, he really doesn't get very far) The day after Tsuna's final fight with Bermuda, Kyoko wants to know what all the bustle was about. Hana is invited along, because Kyoko thinks it's time to stop keeping secrets. Tsuna is really, really tired. “Um, cursed?” said Hana flatly. “I thought we were talking about the mafia, not” she waved an arm, “fairy tales or something.” “When you get shot in the head by a baby and don’t die you kind of stop questioning things,” said Sawada in perfect seriousness. “Don’t worry, you get used to it.”

-

A Sky Barely Filled, Like A Lie Whispered With Dying Will

My own work 

Summary:

A oneshot told from Tsuna’s perspective before the guardians really start clicking and before his resolve to either fix vongola or destroy it becomes established. It’s hard to tell what’s going through his head in the manga so I tried to fill in the gaps with fanfic by doing something introspective to lend some insight into his feelings. Also tried to make Tsuna’s lack of understanding for how the flame dynamics between his guardians and him influence their interactions, mirror our own (as very little was ever explained about that to him or us) while also making it a real subtextual Thing. Another part of this fic I focused on was to realistically portray how a bullied kid who’s used to failing at things would react internally to being in the middle of an artificial found family that explicitly hasn’t fallen together naturally but instead by design, Reborn’s design. Not to say I don’t love the guardians and Tsuna’s bond, just, I feel like a kid who’s never had friends suddenly having a bunch would need to process, anyway I enjoyed writing it and I like what the fic does so I’m putting it here.

- This Is Who We Are by MotivationIsDead

Summary: Somehow Tsuna has become a legend in the mafia community. He’s not sure if he wants to laugh or cry at the thought.

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Duties and diplomacy by DearCat

Summary: Xanxus has his duties.

[4stars-uswnt]

Stuck with the Best Moms [Preath x Daughter!Reader]

requested by anon: Heyy! Love your writing! Could you do one where R is Preath teen daughter? And how they are doing during quarantine?

A/N: i tried to get this done when they announced their moved to man united but oh well better late than never

“Ma! I’m bored.” You whine.

Tobin chuckles at your position on the couch, as you’re upside down, head hanging off the edge.

“What are you complaining about?” Christen calls, entering the room.

“Mom, there’s nothing to do!” You exasperate and move to sit up right. Your mom rolls her eyes, taking a seat next to you.

“(Y/N), you are 17 years old. Certainly, there’s something you can find that will entertain you.”

“But I wanna do something with you guys.” You huff. Christen and Tobin soften at that and exchange a silent conversation. During the lockdown, the two forwards had been quite busy with re-inc, leaving you to your own devices.

“Have you been feeling a little neglected, kiddo?” Tobin coos, moving to the other side of you.

Leaning your head on your ma’s shoulder, your cheeks flush. “No.” You mumble.

“(Y/N), you know you can tell us anything.” Christen takes your hands in hers.

“It’s just—— When we went into lockdown, I thought we’d finally get to spend some quality time together, but you guys have just been really busy with re-inc.” You spill.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Your mom asks, her eyebrows furrowed in concern. She knew that her and her wife’s schedules were always so busy with travel for both the national team and their respective clubs, leaving little time for all three of you to spend quality family time together.

“I didn’t want to bother you, and I know how important re-inc is to you guys.” You sigh. Because of how often either one or both of your parents were traveling, you were a very independent teenager. Therefore, you never really wanted to disturb your mothers, as you were very proud of their accomplishments both on and off the field.

“(Y/N), will you look at me?” Christen gently lifts your chin, causing you to look directly into your mom’s green orbs. “Yes, re-inc is important to us, but you are a thousand times more important to us.” She emphasizes, as Tobin nods along in agreement, rubbing your back.

“Chris is right.” Your ma adds. “And we are so sorry that we haven’t been making enough time to spend with you.”

“It’s okay.” You give your mothers a soft smile.

“We love you, (Y/N).” Christen whispers, kissing your temple. “So much.”

Tobin wraps her arms around you, pulling you in a tight hug. “How bout this?” She starts. “I’ll try and see if I can get us into Providence later today, then we can go pick up some Gilda’s on the way home, and we can watch whatever movie you want tonight.”

Your eyes widen at your ma’s suggestion, as you nod your head excitedly. Although you were already getting call ups from the national youth team and scholarship offers from many D1 schools, you were always eager to get some touches on the field, and it didn’t hurt that two of the best forwards in the world were your parents.

“Alright then. Why don’t you get changed, while I make a call to Mark, and then we’ll walk over there.” Before Tobin could even finish, you were already rushing to your room, leaving your moms to chuckle at your enthusiasm.

—————

Upon arriving to the field, you immediately pull out a ball and start juggling. Before beginning their own warmup, Christen and Tobin stop to watch their daughter, their hearts bursting with pride for the young woman they’ve raised.

The three of you spend almost two hours at the training center. Tobin and Christen put you through a couple of drills and competitions and then all three of you play a little keep away.

“Did you just meg me?!” Tobin gasps, chasing after you.

“Don’t hurt me!” You scream, giggling, as you run away from your ma, who eventually catches up to you.

You pass the ball to Christen, before Tobin tackles you to the ground, tickling your sides.

“Stop! Stop! You win!” You pant, as you try to catch your breath, admitting defeat.

“That nutmeg wasn’t very nice, kiddo.” Tobin playfully scolds.

“You were the one who taught me that!” You tease your mother, who throws her head back with a laugh.

“Alright you two.” Christen approaches with an ear-splitting grin across her face. “Let’s go get some food.” She helps the two of you up, as you pack up the balls and head over to Gilda’s.

—————

Entering the apartment, takeout in hand, you place the food on the counter, ready to dig in.

“Ah, ah ah.” Christen grabs your wrist, stopping you from opening the container. “You go shower. We’ll dish out the food and set the table.”

“But—” You protest.

“Go! You stink.” Your mom insists, sticking her tongue out at you. Pouting, you reluctantly head to your bathroom.

Once you’ve cleansed yourself off and changed into a re-inc crewneck and a pair of bike shorts, you reenter the kitchen, smiling at the sight in front of you. Tobin was finishing setting the table, whistling along to the soft hum folklore in the background, while Christen was bringing the plates of food the counter, humming to the music. You wanted to cherish these small moments with your parents, not only because of how rare they were, but also because you would be heading off to college soon.

“Kiddo!” Tobin beams, noticing your presence. “C’mon let’s eat.”

Taking your seat at the counter, you dish out everyone’s food. A couple of bites in, you let out a moan of satisfaction.

“Ugh. This is delicious.” You shove another mouthful of pasta into your mouth.

Both of your mothers share a light-hearted chuckle. “I take it you like it, love?” Christen smirks, as you nod enthusiastically, your mouth too full of food to respond.

“So, kid, anymore offers?” Tobin casually brings up, receiving a warning glare from her wife. College had been a delicate topic the past couple of months, as you were having a difficult time choosing a school that met your needs both athletically and academically, causing you a great deal of stress.

You gulp down your food. “Ummm. Yeah. I got some calls from Duke, Portland, Cal, and Washington. And USC, Stanford, UCLA, and UNC called again, wanting me to meet the rest of the team.” You mutter, fidgeting with your hands.

Tobin bounces in her seat like an excited child, going to ask you more questions. But before she can speak, Christen shoots her another glare, effectively silencing her.

“That’s exciting, dear. You excited for the Premier League to start?” Your mother smiles, before changing the subject, knowing you didn’t particularly like talking about college. Christen herself was not particularly fond of the subject either, not ready for her baby to leave her. Although, you wouldn’t be that far, considering you’d most likely be called up to the national team pretty soon.

As dinner progresses, you and your mothers catch up, discussing recent events, soccer, and even a little gossip. Tobin eventually does coax the college conversation out of you, resulting in your moms having a mini argument over Stanford versus UNC.

As you finish up dinner and clear the table, Tobin starts making some popcorn for your movie night.

“What do you wanna watch, love? It’s your choice.” Christen asks, turning on the TV and grabbing a couple of blankets.

“Can we watch Clueless?” You give her a cheeky grin, knowing your mom didn’t particularly like the chick flick.

“Of course.” Christen sighs, playfully rolling her eyes, as she kisses your forehead.

“What’re we watching?” Tobin plops down next to, popping a piece of popcorn into her mouth.

“Clueless.” You grin, as your ma throws her head back, groaning.

“Again?”

“You did say it was my choice.” You sing.

“I guess I did say that.” Tobin grumbles, snuggling into your side, Christen doing the same, so you’re sandwiched between the two women.

“Good, because it’s starting so shh.” You stuff your mouth with a handful of popcorn.

—————

Towards the end of the movie, you find your eyes slowly drooping. You move to lay down across your moms, your head in Christen’s lap, your feet across Tobin’s.

“You tired, sweetie?” Christen runs her hand through your hair.

“A little.” You mumble.

“Yeah, you played pretty hard today, kiddo.” Tobin massages your calfs.

Turning around, you look up at your parents. “Can we do something tomorrow?” You sheepishly ask. “I mean, like it doesn’t have to be as time consuming as what we did today, but maybe a game or just like sitting down for a cup of coffee.” You elaborate.

The two older women feel their hearts melt, wanting nothing more than to spend time with their daughter.

“Of course, (Y/N/N).” Tobin squeeze your leg.

“We would love that.” Christen adds, placing a kiss to your hair.

“Awesome.” You beam and turn back to face the television.

As the credits start to roll, you stretch.

“I think I’m gonna head to bed.” You yawn.

“Alright, good night, kiddo.”

“Good night, baby.”

Getting up from the couch, you give Tobin a hug and kiss Christen’s cheek. “Thanks for today, moms. I had a great day.”

“See, it’s pretty awesome being stuck inside with your parents, eh?” Tobin smirks.

“Uh, I wouldn’t go that far.” You call back to her, biting back a smile, as you make your way to your bedroom.

Although being stuck in lockdown was extremely boring, you had to admit that you had the best moms, and yeah, it was pretty awesome.

[tuanyiems]

Ice Choco

Yugyeom x Reader (f) fluff x smut words: 4k plot: you’re nervous about spending the holidays with his parents, but you should be more nervous about the boy who can’t seem to take his hands off of you, established relationship!au christmas!au warnings – fingering, teasing, slow sex, unprotected sex, creampie, this one’s extra fluffy I think, it’s Christmas after all :’) a/n – Christmas came early hehe enjoy! part of Le Chocolatier drabble series, which you can find the masterlist for in my blog. feel free to read this as a one-shot or part of the series, in any order you want <3

You smile fondly at the twinkling fir tree, golden lights and sparkling red bulbs drape over its forest green body. Chocolate squares wrapped in silver foil that you and Yugyeom had hand wrapped yourselves hang on red ribbons throughout the tree. You pluck one off and pop it into your mouth. The peppermint chocolate melts on your tongue, coating your mouth in sweetness.

When Yugyeom first invited you to join his family for the holidays, you were anxious. It hadn’t even been three months since you started dating. You wondered if you were moving too fast. Would his family judge you? Would Yugyeom realize how awkward of a person you were? Would you be left sad and alone on your favorite holiday?

It was only after plenty of reassurance from Yugyeom that you decided to just go for it. You liked Yugyeom, a lot, and despite the short time you’ve been dating, every day has been full of happiness. And if his family was anything like Yugyeom, you would probably like them too.

And that’s how you found yourself here, in the Kim’s living room on Christmas Eve. Unlike what you had imagined, his parents welcomed you with open arms. You learned exactly where Yugyeom got his warmth and kindness.

And as if this moment couldn’t be more picturesque, a full moon hung in the night sky like a shining ornament.

“Pretty,” Mrs. Kim interjected, stepping beside you.

“It is,” you smile, looking out the window.

“No, I was talking about you dear,” she grins, squeezing your arm.

“O-oh,” you stutter, feeling your cheeks heat.

Laughing, Mrs. Kim tilts her head back the same way Yugyeom laughs when he’s teasing you. “Aren’t you a cutie! Yugyeom did good finding you.”

“T-thanks,” you sputter, not sure what to do with yourself. You fix at the red plaid pajamas the Kim’s gifted you with this morning. “I’m glad you invited me…or, well, I don’t know if you invited me. I don’t know if you knew about me. Maybe Yugyeom just brought me without notice. Oh, I hope he didn’t-”

Giggling, Mrs. Kim pulls you into a side hug.

“Sorry,” you apologize, taking a deep breath. “What I mean is, you’ve been so nice. I’m happy to spend the holidays with you and your whole family. Really, thank you.”

“Not at all,” Mrs. Kim scrunches her nose, smiling. “It’s nice to have another woman in the house. Tomorrow, my daughter-in-law will be joining us too!”

“I can’t wait to meet her and your eldest son!” You agree, “I’ve heard so many great things from Yugyeom.”

She nods, giving your arm another squeeze. “Yeah, Yugyeom dotes on his brother so much. But until then, you can use Euigyeom’s old bedroom. I’ve prepared fresh sheets so you can get a good night’s sleep.”

“Fresh sheets won’t feel as cozy as my bedsheets though,” Yugyeom interrupts, coming up beside his mother.

Your eyes widen at his comment.

Mrs. Kim frowns, slapping Yugyeom on the arm. “No babies until you two get married!”

Yugyeom laughs at his mom and when he sees your mortified face, laughs even harder. You aren’t even sure which part of her sentence to be more flustered about—the fact that his mom just insinuated you two possibly having sex under her roof or that you’ve been dating for less than three months and she was already considering marriage! 

Your skin feels like hot lava and you wonder if you might even hive up from embarrassment. That would be a first.

“Oh, I think we broke her,” his mom chuckles.

“Honey,” Mr. Kim interrupts, resting his hands over Mrs. Kim’s shoulders. “Let’s head to bed and let the young one’s talk.”

He sends you a wink before ushering his wife into their bedroom. When you hear their door shut, you let out a sigh, shoulders slumping. Yugyeom chuckles softly beside you, patting you on the back.

“I told you, you had nothing to worry about,” he says. “My parents love you already. I think they love you more than they love me.”

“Impossible!” you scrunch your nose, but your lips curl up anyways. “This afternoon when I was helping your mom in the kitchen, she kept talking about all the awards you won in high school. Class president, co-president of the dance club, winner of the youth dance competition. How come you never talk about dance? What else are you hiding from me?”

Yugyeom’s eyes crinkle into half moon shapes. “I also won first prize in the science fair in primary school,” he grins, winking at you playfully. “Your man made a pretty mean volcano back in the day.”

“Oh wow, a volcano? That beats the boy I dated for his solar system model,” you joke.

He smirks, putting his arm around you, “Definitely an upgrade, babe.”

“Tomorrow, I’ll ask to see the baby photos,” you tease, leaning into his embrace as you poke his chest.

Yugyeom tilts his head cockily to the side. “Not to brag, but I was a pretty cute baby. Just a warning, but you might fall in love with me.”

You roll your eyes. A little too late for that, you think to yourself, but that is a confession for another day.

“We should probably clean up and head to bed soon,” you smile, pulling away.

“Don’t wanna see Santa?” he teases.

You chuckle, clearing the living room of the abandoned mugs and plates with the exception of one plate of chocolate chip cookies. “I think it’s cute that your mom still keeps out cookies.”

He smiles, helping you empty the dishes into the sink. “Back when we were kids, they’d wake up at midnight and eat the cookies too.”

Lips jutting out, you stare at Yugyeom with big doe eyes, completely endeared. He glances at you before chuckling and slipping on the bright pink dishwashing gloves.

“On the downside, I got bullied for being the only kid in the neighborhood who still believed in Santa,” he adds.

“Aww, poor baby,” you coo, brushing the stray hair out of his eyes. “Tell me their names, I’ll go beat them up for you.”

“Bambam,” he quips making you laugh.

“Sorry, Gyeom, you’re on your own.”

He chuckles. “S’alright, I had my mom fight that battle.”

You let out a deep breath, leaning your elbows on the center island of the kitchen and admire Yugyeom from behind. He’s only in a plain grey t-shirt and matching red plaid pajama pants, and yet, he still looks handsome. Your eyes travel across his broad back. There is the faint hint of his tattoo underneath the thin cotton material.

When you first saw Yugyeom’s back tattoo, you were surprised but also found it very fitting. Black ink bled wings across his shoulder blades. In a way, Yugyeom came into your life like an angel. Your guardian angel, he liked to joke, saving others from your clumsiness. 

You scoff at the memory, making Yugyeom turn to you with narrowed eyes.

“What are you snickering about back there?”

“Nothing!” you squeak, pursing your lips together like a child caught red handed. 

He looks at you for a moment longer before turning back to the dishes, smiling to himself. 

“I was just thinking,” you finally add after a pause. “I really enjoy the relationship you have with your parents.”

You watch his shoulders lift and you imagine he’s smiling. “Yeah, they’re my best friends,” he tells you over the sound of the running faucet.

“I’m jealous,” you confess softly. You assume he doesn’t hear you.

Unlike Yugyeom, you grew up in a strict household. The only memories you have of your biological father were all associated with fear and while you got along with your mother, you weren’t exactly close either. Of course, the two of you loved each other as most families did, but after experiencing a marriage of struggle, as soon as you were of legal age, your mom went off to chase her own freedom. Back in your late teens, this had put a strain in your relationship, but now that you are older, with your perspective matured, you grew to understand your mom and you’re glad that she’s found a happier life of her own.

Now, the two of you can talk openly about the ups and downs of adulthood and womanhood and everything in between.

But this was why you weren’t spending the holidays with your own family. The two of you had decided a few years back that New Year’s would be for family, Christmas is for love and adventure.

You watch as your love and adventure turns off the faucet and shakes the pink gloves off his arms. “Done!” he declares triumphantly, turning to you now.

“Looks like you’re going to make the nice list this year,” you compliment, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He grins down at you, “How about you sneak into my room and we can both make the naughty list.”

Your eyes widen, feeling your cheeks flush at the thought. Yugyeom laughs, throwing his head back.

“I’m just kidding, don’t have a heart attack!” 

Slapping his chest, you pout. “Let’s go to sleep. I’m going to need the energy to deal with you tomorrow.”

But when your head finally sinks into the fresh sheets Mrs. Kim had prepared for you, sleep never comes. After washing up and saying goodnight to Yugyeom, it was like all the exhaustion washed away too. You are wide awake when the clock hits midnight.

It’s probably because you’re in a new environment. It’s been a while since you last slept in a stranger’s bed. You haven’t even slept at Yugyeom’s place yet! You always go home before it gets too late, or it’s him staying at yours.

Anyways, the nerves of meeting Yugyeom’s family along with the new environment and the thrill of Christmas combined is probably what’s keeping you up.

Sitting up in bed, you decide to fix up a warm drink. That should calm you, right?

Slipping out of bed, you sneak out of your bedroom on tiptoes, twisting the doorknob so slowly one might think you’ve been frozen. One thing about the Kim’s house is how eerily quiet the whole place is. Unlike your apartment where everything seemed to buzz—the fridge, the walls, the ceiling, you name it—this house was cloaked in silence.

It feels like an eternity when you finally get the door open big enough to walk through. Looking both ways in the dark hallway, you make a turn and tiptoe your way into the kitchen. Once in the kitchen, you flick the island lights on, casting a dim spotlight at the center of the room. You squint, eyes adjusting to the lights before making your way towards the cabinets.

Helping Mrs. Kim with dinner this evening had paid off. You were already familiar with the kitchen setup.

Plucking a hot chocolate packet between two fingers, you swivel back to the island to boil the water. Pouring the brown powder into a mug, you let out a breath, waiting for the water to boil.

In the open window across from you, you are delighted to find a flurry of white illuminated by the dim light of a single lamppost. The snowflakes fall in fat clumps, as if in slow motion. The quiet realization that you will have a white Christmas after all, brings a soft smile to your lips.

“Hello, Santa,” a sudden voice breaks the silence, making you jump up in a silent shriek.

Standing in the shadows, at the doorway of the kitchen is a very amused Yugyeom, his hands clasped around his mouth to muffle his laughter.

“You scared me!” you whisper yell, one hand on your beating chest.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, not at all sorry, as he walks to your side behind the island. “What are you doing up anyways?”

“Making hot chocolate,” you explain, hands coming to fix at his bed head. “I couldn’t fall asleep. Want one?”

You’re already grabbing another packet from the cabinet before he can answer you.

“I can make you an ice choco,” you smile up at him, eyes forming crescents. They look shinier under the lights. He feels a flutter in his stomach.

Smiling quietly, Yugyeom nods. For a moment, the two of you stand in easy silence. Only the sound of the water boiler can be heard. Yugyeom’s eyes follow where yours are staring and his heart warms. You look so happy, it’s endearing. You must be the only person in this city who hasn’t been jaded from the snowstorms that hit every winter.

Coming from behind, Yugyeom wraps you in his arms, bending to rest his chin in the crook of your shoulder.

“Merry Christmas,” he whispers into your ear, gazing out at the falling snow.

“Merry Christmas,” you reply, turning, you hold his face in one palm and press a kiss to his cheek. He squeezes you tighter in his arms.

When the water boiler clicks off, water now hot and bubbling, you move to grab it but Yugyeom holds you tight, pulling you closer to his chest. You giggle softly, tilting your head at him curiously. He answers you with cold fingers sliding underneath your shirt. It sends you shivering all over.

“Yugyeom!” you squeak in surprise, making futile attempts to escape his grasp.

“I know something else we could do to get you sleepy,” he whispers, breath on the shell of your ear.

“Y-your parents are right down the hall!” you stutter, gulping back the whimper that threatens to escape your throat.

Yugyeom licks a stripe up the shell of your ear, “And sleeping.” You can feel his smirk against your ear.

“I-w-we can’t,” you whine, unconvincingly.

“But you want to,” he says matter-of-factly, hands sliding up your skin. You feel him inhale when his palms come around the supple flesh of your breasts. “No bra? You naughty girl.”

Your protests catch in your throat when he begins to knead at your breasts, rolling both nipples between his thumbs. You whimper, head falling back onto his shoulder at the sensation. His fingers brush against the sensitive buds gently, barely there. It makes your knees weak and your core throb with want.

Yugyeom presses himself into your back and you can feel him hard against you. “You don’t know how hard it was for me to control myself today. Do you know how many hard ons I had to hide from my parents?”

You break into a smile, grinding your ass harder into him. “Is that why you were hugging that throw pillow all day?”

“Don’t you dare laugh at me,” Yugyeom warns, pinching you between his thumbs. “I saw the way you were looking at me. I can read you like a book, baby. Bet you’re already wet.”

Yugyeom presses a kiss to your jawline before sucking down your throat. Your breath skips at the fluttering feeling. “G-gyeom, I-I can’t have hickeys.”

He groans softly against you, biting softly at your jugular before letting go. “You don’t get to call the shots, babe.”

The sternness of his voice makes you whimper, which he catches easily with his own lips on yours. Yugyeom kisses you roughly, tongue overpowering yours just the way you like it. When his hand dips down past the waistband of your pajama pants and panties at once, your eyes fall shut, relishing the sudden intrusion.

“Fucking wet,” he smirks, dipping two fingers between your folds. He gathers your slick, spreading it in circles around your sensitive bud. You whimper, knees going weak.

All too soon though, his hand leaves you, making you whine. He holds his fingers up in the light, admiring the glistening web of arousal. As if practiced, you open your mouth for him and he slides his fingers into your mouth. You whimper at the tang of yourself melting on your tongue.

“Tell me you want me,” he mutters, lids heavy as he slides his fingers in and out of your mouth. You run your tongue around his fingers expertly until you’ve licked him clean.

Yugyeom swallows, watching you suck on his fingers and imagines you sucking other things of his. The very thought makes him shiver. Reluctantly, he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, letting you speak.

“Please Gyeom,” you whine, breathless. “I want you. Need you inside me already.”

It’s music to his ears and he wants to tease you more, but his patience has already run out. Having spent the better half of this day sporting blue balls, Yugyeom just wants to fuck you senseless.

It catches you by surprise when he slips his thumbs down your waistbands and pulls, leaving your ass bare behind the kitchen island. Before you can even feel embarrassed about the sudden exposure, Yugyeom’s finger are back on you, making you whimper while his other hand makes quick work with his own pants and boxers. His cock springs free, red and throbbing.

“You look so delicious like this,” he whispers into your ear, hands squeezing your ass. Oh, how he would have loved to slap your ass until you were red with his fingerprints. Biting his lips, he pushes his dick between your thighs instead.

“Ooh,” you let out a satisfied sigh, your clit rubbing along the length of his cock. Your thighs are soft and warm around his length, it’s unfair, Yugyeom thinks. Your pussy is weeping with desperation, the arousal drips down, coating his dick so that each time he thrusts between your legs, it is deliciously smooth. Everything about your body is heavenly, like it was made for him.

Already, you’re panting, a thick whine straining in your throat. His hot cock rutting between your thighs just teases at your sensitive bud. Your pussy lips clench around nothing and only succeeds in making the ache in your core more despairing. 

“Gyeom, please,” you breathe out, hands coming up to run through his hair, your fingers thread around his black strands, before pulling into your fists. Yugyeom enjoys the ache in his scalp.

When he pulls his cock away, you almost yell out loud, lips pouting from the lost sensation. He answers you with a smirk, nudging his foot between yours, he forces your legs apart. Your hands grip at the counter for support, fingers pressing down hard when he slides two fingers into you without warning.

Immediately, you bite at your bottom lip, fighting the moan that threatens to escape you as he dips his fingers into you over and over, stretching at your velvety walls. His fingers are long and practiced, finding the rough, spongy patch inside you quickly.

Your eyes squeeze shut, the ghost of a whimper panting from your lips as he curls his fingers, sending shivers straight to your core. Over and over, he does this, until you’re tightening around his digits. All too soon, your knees are buckling, mind going numb from the sensation.

And then, he pulls out of you.

You gasp, eyes opening wide while Yugyeom chuckles darkly. 

Before you can complain, he kisses your temple sweetly. “Not yet, baby,” he whispers soothingly.

You feel Yugyeom stepping closer between your legs and then the head of his cock teases at your entrance, sliding up and down your folds, spreading your slick on him.

You’re about to whine for him to stop teasing when you hear the creak of a door opening. Eyes widening, your heart jumps to your throat when the sound of footsteps shuffling against the floors, echoes like a blaring drum from down the dark hallway.

Your breath hitches when Yugyeom sinks his cock into you slowly. Your palm flies to your mouth, just as he slides all the way in, balls pressed to your ass. He leans into you so that his chest is hard-pressed against your back. You can feel his breath on your skin as his lips press against the nape of your neck.

The door of the bathroom opens and closes.

“Shh,” he mumbles against you, slowly pulling out of you. The friction is so delicious, you can’t help the whimper that muffles against your palm. “Wouldn’t want to get caught with my dick inside you…would you?”

He fucks into you, one hand coming to your throat at the sound of your muffled moan. He squeezes at your throat, softly at first. When he feels the way you clench around his cock, he bites into your shoulder, hiding his groan.

“Are you gonna be a good girl?” he whispers into your ear, fingers tapping at your throat. You nod your head eagerly, rutting yourself onto his dick.

He bites at his lip, squeezing around your neck. At the sound of the water faucet running, Yugyeom ruts into you hard, his free hand coming to rub circles around your clit. You pant, breath constricting and eyes rolling. You love the way he fills you entirely. His slow thrusts hit you deep every time, keeping you at the edge of euphoria.

When the bathroom door opens, Yugyeom’s fingers rub at your bud even faster, sending your heart facing and electric currents straight to your core. You’re so close, it hurts. Tears brim at the corner of your eyes, your voice threatening to break as your ears strain to hear the footsteps coming closer.

You can feel your vein pulsing against your forehead as Yugyeom continues to thrust his cock into your sopping hole, sliding deep into your cunt.

The door of his parents’ bedroom squeaks like slow motion. Please, please go back to bed. Shut the door. All you can hear is your heart pounding in your own ear and Yugyeom’s stifled breathing. 

And then you hear the click.

Yugyeom lets go of your throat to hold the edge of the counter instead and the air that invades your lungs while he fucks into you hard send you off the edge.

“Mmmmm,” a strained moan escapes your throat as you collapse onto the island, body jerking as your orgasm hits you in waves. Yugyeom continues his ministrations on your clit, his own balls straining at the way your pussy pulses around him, impossibly tight.

“That’s it, baby,” he soothes, rocking himself into you as you slowly come down from your high. He caresses your throat lovingly, placing soft kisses to your jawline until he’s spilling into you with a quiet groan.

You shiver, his moan tickling the shell of your ear as your pussy pulsed around his cock, sucking up each hot spurt of cum that shot into you.

“God,” he sighs, sweaty forehead pressing into your shoulder. He all but collapses on you. “I love you so much.”

Both you and Yugyeom freeze. His softened cock slips out of you and he rushes to help clean the cum that drips out of your pussy. Stumbling, Yugyeom haphazardly pulls the band of his pants back up while grabbing a towel from behind him.

You barely even notice the stickiness that drips down your thigh as Yugyeom wipes the damp towel across your skin. Instead, you stare down at his fluffy hair, a smile stretching across your face.

“Gyeom,” you say softly as he fixes your pants back up, still refusing to look at you. Your fingers thread through his hair softly, “Gyeom.”

When he tilts his head up, he looks so worried. You feel your heart squeeze.

“Gyeom,” you smile softly, helping him back up to his feet. “I love you too.”

He blinks like he’s heard you wrong. “You love me too?”

You nod, giggling now. “I do. A lot.”

Yugyeom pulls you into a kiss.

“You love me!” he repeats against your lips and then he is kissing you again until you are both giggling against each other.

[archiving-childhood]

Sports teams in childhood: I started watching the Showtime show Yellowjackets recently; the show centers around a soccer team that gets stranded on an island after their plane crashes on the way to ‘nationals’. The thriller plot line aside, the show got me thinking about the phenomenon of child & youth sports teams (which then got me thinking about physical education classes in school, but I don’t want to go there, P.E. was the worst). I wasn’t much of an athletic type, though I’ve learned since, as an adult who’s learned how to freestyle swim on my own, that it had a lot to do with the fact that school didn’t help me (and others) learn about how our bodies move best. Despite not being athletic, I somehow deluded myself into thinking I could make it onto the middle school basketball team. I even quit piano lessons (what I thought then was a stereotypical “Asian thing” to do) in order to practice for tryouts. The issue is, I don’t remember practicing. Where would I have practiced? We didn’t have a basketball hoop at my house! My best friend had one at hers, but I was always too self-conscious to try to play with her and the boys who’d come around. Yet I remember trying out for the team… and failing miserably. It was embarrassing how badly I failed at it, but really, what made me think I would succeed? And really, why a sports team? 

Sports teams in schools always seems to be so highlighted, and coveted. Walk through the hallways of many big schools here in the U.S. and you’ll likely find trophy cases displaying the wins of the school teams. I ended up doing things like chess team, math club, yearbook, etc. but you’d be harder pressed to find those sorts of achievements on display front and center. So to be part of a sports team really seems to place a person at the center of the school social arena. Then at some point, this must have leaked out into communities, no longer contained by schools (or maybe it was the other way around?). That is, there are not only school sports teams but little leagues, soccer leagues, etc. I did a little bit of research on this phenomenon and learned that the creation of sports clubs and leagues had something to do with occupying the time of adolescent boys that adults feared would become delinquents. Since then it’s become a multi-billion dollar revenue stream… because capitalism. Of course. Simultaneously, though, the number of children/youth participating in organized sports has decreased over the pandemic. Some of this has to do with the obvious, but other factors are involved too. One has to do with the fact that children/youth are discovering other hobbies that they are more interested in, that don’t involve competition (seems that these newer generations are really more in touch with the ways the adult-imposed activities put a damper on their social and emotional health). Another has to do with the cost-prohibitiveness of sports, whether associated with the school or an outside organization. It makes these activities very closely tied to social class and capital. I wonder, if we paid more attention to this axis of social class in our schools and places of work, how we might redesign these sites and also reconfigure childhoods. 

Just a note: the photo above is not a photo of me. Duh. Obviously.

[unbridgeabledistances]

here is a part 2 of my valentine’s day one-shot from the other day!! part 3 of them actually celebrating is coming fri, but wanted to make it a lil countdown:) also big creds to @udontfuckangie for their post about ian getting mickey stargazer lilies for valentines bc it… truly made me feel so many things and i had to write this

--

Ian didn’t really remember ever celebrating Valentine’s Day for real— not like everyone else in middle school or high school, like when Lip was off buying flowers for girls or Mandy was trying to get the guy she liked to ask her out— but he definitely remembered celebrating it as a kid, when he’d have to scrounge up some shoebox from under his bed and bring it to his overcrowded classroom to cover with colorful construction paper and make shitty valentines to swap with his friends. Those were the days when Frank was around some, and so was Monica— he remembered one year, when he was maybe 5 or 6, when Monica was there and he had come home with a thin pink slip of paper from his teacher saying that he needed to bring in valentines for his class. Monica had whisked him down the street to the dollar store where they’d ransacked the rickety shelves of all the art supplies they could carry, and then they sat at the kitchen table for hours gluing glitter to cut-out hearts.

So maybe that’s why Ian’s heart had melted last Sunday, when Franny had mentioned that she needed to buy valentines for her class at school— Ian knew it was stupid, or whatever, but he knew how far a few solid childhood memories could go in this neighborhood, how those types of moments were the stuff you lived on for years afterwards when things got harder and darker. So while he’d been caught up in so much shit lately, for a couple of hours on that Sunday afternoon all Ian wanted was for Franny to soak up that feeling like a sponge—to make memories with her like the good ones that he’d had with Monica, the ones that stood out and burned in his chest like a hot branding iron when he remembered them.

And then a yawning, sleep-soft Mickey had stumbled into the kitchen, and the three of them were nestled beside each other at the table doing fucking arts and crafts; and for some reason it made Ian’s blood run hotter than usual, and got him thinking about how fuck it, he wanted to give Mickey a Valentine’s Day this year— not in the weird, heteronormative bullshit way, but in the way that he could just kind of… show Mickey how much he meant to him, how Mickey still made his heart feel like it was going to explode out of his ribcage even after the years they’d been together. This was the longest time that he and Mickey had ever been together consecutively, the longest time they’d slept side by side before something dark curled its fingers around them and pulled them apart, and he wanted to do something to acknowledge that— something to start their forever, as fucking cheesy as that sounded.

Of course, Mickey had no concept of Valentine’s Day or any of that shit, which made the whole thing all the more perfect— Ian wanted to catch him off guard, wanted to pull them both out of the funk that had been hovering over them for the months after the wedding, when everything turned brittle and stale once the bills started to pile up. They were better now—or at least they were trying to be— but it still meant something that half of their time being married had been spent navigating a fucking global pandemic and squabbling with each other and barely making ends meet.

So now it was the day before Valentine’s Day, and Ian was standing on a busy Chicago street corner in the bitter cold, watching the bundled passersby briskly walk by to scramble inside and stave off the chill. Ian hadn’t been to this neighborhood since his days working at the club, or maybe once or twice when he was hanging out with people from the youth center; the pristine glass storefronts with minimalist displays nearly blinded Ian’s eyes after the past ten months of being accustomed to the crumbling paint-chipped architecture of the South Side. But he was here on a mission; in front of him stood the high-end, boujee as fuck florist’s shop, one of the top-rated ones in the city according to the quick search he’d plugged into his phone.

Ian normally didn’t give a shit about stuff like this— to him, a flower was a flower, and a chair for a wedding was just a goddamn chair— but he knew Mickey, for some reason this sappy shit was a whole lot more important to him, no matter how hard Mickey tried to hide it. All the symbols and the fanfare meant something to Mickey—it meant that they’d made it, that they got to have a normal fucking life together, beyond both of their wildest dreams. So if Ian had to brave a stupid, gentrifying flower shop on a chilly Friday afternoon to make Mickey happy, then that was what he was going to do.

A soft bell tinkled as Ian entered the shop, immediately surrounded by the nearly-bare shelves of minimalist bouquets. The store was incredibly cramped and narrow, with overly-peppy music playing low, and was packed tight with wire-rimmed glasses wearing, re-usable bag toting hipsters standing in a line all the way to the counter. Shit. This line was going to take all day—and who the fuck knew if they even had what Ian was looking for? A looming pang of desperation started to churn in the pit of his stomach as he lurked by the doorway. Fuck it, he had to do this.

Before Ian really processed what he was doing he was quickly darting past the line, getting a series of dirty looks from everyone he shuffled by.

“S’cuse me, coming through, floral emergency.”

Finally, he reached the counter, sliding in beside some girl in her mid-twenties with a punk haircut. “Uh, sorry, can I just ask if they have what I’m looking for real quick?”

The girl rolled her eyes. “If you’re desperate enough to cut the fucking line, I’d say you’re worse off than I am. Men are fucking clueless.”

Ian nearly grimaced, but tried to twist his face into a soft, grateful smile. “Thank you.” He turned to the cashier at the counter, a dude with a man bun and a floral button-up shirt who looked pretty amused by this whole situation.

“It’s the day before Valentine’s Day, honey. Everyone here is in a floral emergency.” The cashier sighed, looking Ian up and down appraisingly. “What’re you looking for?”

“Uh. I think they’re called… stargazer lilies? The ones that bloom at a specific time, or something? We were supposed to have them at my wedding, but then the venue got burnt down by my husband’s homophobic father, so we kind of had to pull the whole wedding thing together on short notice— it’s kind of a long story, but I really, really need to get these flowers for Valentine’s Day.” Ian leaned in close over the counter, hoping he didn’t look too desperate. “It’s our first one together and it’s been a fucking shitty year and it would just— it would mean a lot.”

Ian finally exhaled, and hoped by some miracle that this cashier, or someone in the fucking universe, would take pity on him.

The cashier pulled his glasses down to the bridge of his nose, tapping away at the iPad on the counter before glancing up. “Hmm. I’m sorry honey, you’re fresh out of luck. Those lilies bloom in the summer mostly, and no one around here really has them. You could maybe check one of the little flower shops down the street, they do special orders and stuff this time of year—but I’ll be honest, I don’t know if you’re gonna get these flowers by tomorrow.”

Ian felt disappointment bubble up inside him. Of fucking course there were none of these obscure flowers in Chicago the day before Valentine’s Day— he’d had this grand idea of giving Mickey a perfect Valentine’s Day, of starting off on the right foot, and he still put this shit off until the last minute and couldn’t give Mickey what he deserved. Mickey would’ve never made this mistake.

Ian cleared his throat. “Shit. Well, uh, thanks anyways.”

He turned, heading for the door and getting ready to be assaulted by the bitter cold again. Okay, there were a couple flower marts down the street, he could try that— but he had a sinking feeling that the results would be the same, that he’d be left empty-handed tomorrow with nothing to give.

Okay. Focus. I’ve gotta plan a bunch of shit for Valentine’s Day by tomorrow.

What would Mickey do?

**

The flat drone of the dial tone made Mickey’s head buzz, the same dull vibration he’d heard dozens of times that week. Finally, he heard the click of someone answering.

“Hello, this is Sizzlers, how may I help you?”

“Hi, it’s, uh, it’s Mickey Milkovich. Again. I’m just checking in one more time to make sure we’re all good for tomorrow?”

There was a silence on the other end of the line, like the hostess was taking a moment to compose herself. “Yes, Mr. Milkovich. Since this is the… seventh time you’ve checked in in the past week, I believe, everything has definitely been arranged as you requested.”

Mickey cleared his throat. “Uh, good. Thanks. We’ll be there for our reservation at 8.”

He clicked his phone off and flung it down onto the bed. It had been nearly a week since he’d decided he was going to try to give Ian some kind of Valentine’s Day like the normal fucking couple Ian wanted to be, but he had to admit, this shit was hard work; he had to think of the perfect place he wanted them to go, had to call and make a reservation and arrange everything perfectly— and then there was the matter of deciding what to get Ian, because apparently married people also got each other fucking gifts on Valentine’s Day, which sounded like overkill to him. He’d been scrolling through Buzzfeed “Valentine’s Day Gift” lists for the better part of the afternoon, and even snuck some of Debbie’s chick magazines into the bathroom to sift through articles like “Ten Things to Get Your Man for Valentine’s Day” or “Best V-Day Gifts for Newlyweds.” Finally, after fucking days of plans stirring in the back of his mind, Mickey finally thought he had all of the pieces together; the reservation was made, the timing was set, and he’d even stopped by some fancy fucking chocolate shop on the other side of town on the way home from the Alibi earlier that afternoon.

Everything was planned—now there was just one thing left to do.

Mickey grabbed the crumpled piece of paper he’d set on the bedside table, the one he’d been staring at all week. Fuck it. He grabbed a discarded pen from the windowsill, from the collection of pencils that Ian kept next to his notebooks.

Mickey sighed as he put the pen to the paper. Now comes the hard part.

part 1 is here! and part 3 is here!

[spencerreidshortstories]

You meet the team

Description: You have dinner at Rossi’s house so you can meet Spencer’s friends and team members

Rating: Teen, maybe even general

Warnings: None

Spencer put the car in park as he pulled into the driveway of her house. She usually drove to his apartment when they were going to spend time together, but this time he was going to drive her to Rossi's house. Rossi was planning on cooking dinner that night, and the team was finally going to get to meet her.

He'd asked her if it was okay with her and she'd given him a bright smile. "Of course I want to meet your friends," she'd said. "They're an important part of your life."

He'd warned her about Derek maybe teasing and flirting with her and that she shouldn't take it seriously. He'd back off if it made her uncomfortable at all.

He'd also given her brief descriptions of the rest of his team members so she would know what to expect. She'd been really open to meeting them and he had been relieved even if he did have a few misgivings about bringing her into the fold.

Now here he was walking up to her door and knocking on it. When she opened the door, his breath caught for a few seconds. She was wearing a black shirt, long-sleeved, tight but not provocatively so, and a black-and-white checkered skirt that stopped just above her knees. Her choice of shoes were black flats.

He must've stared too long or taken too long to respond because her face fell a little.

"Is this too much?" she asked, gesturing to her outfit.

"What? No!" He smiled shyly and said, "You just look really . . . beautiful. You look beautiful."

It was her turn to give a shy smile. "Thank you. I – I wasn't sure what to wear, so I decided nice but not fancy."

"Garcia will probably be wearing a skirt, so you're fine."

Spencer watched her close and lock the door and then they walked to his car. He stopped walking when they reached it, and she turned to him, question in her eyes.

"Uh, I don't usually drive girls around."

"Okay. I – I know you prefer walking when you can."

He sighed. "Are you – are you the kind of girl who wants a guy to open the door or are you the kind who would get offended if I open the door for you?"

"That depends. If you opened the door for me, would it be because you're babying me in any way?"

"What? No! I just – I'm old-fashioned, so –"

"Spencer," she cut him off. "I'm teasing you. You can open the car door for me. It's nice. However, I open my own door getting out because I'm too impatient to wait for someone to open it for me."

"Duly noted."

Once they were in the car, it didn't take long for Spencer to get going. He didn't have music playing while he was driving because he didn't want to get distracted, but he didn't mind when she started talking to him.

"Where did you get this car?" she asked. "It's from the 60s, isn't it?"

"Mid-60s, yes. I like the older models better. This is probably the only thing I've ever outright splurged on."

"Well, you said you were old-fashioned." She grew serious after that and said, "Spencer?"

He couldn't look at her because he was driving, but he let her know he was listening.

"There's something you should know before we get to the house."

"Okay."

"Sometimes I have a very short socialization meter. It's worse if I'm in a loud place, which is why I asked for us not to meet at a bar or a club. I can usually do a couple hours at a time and then I kind of start zoning out. I just wanted to warn you because you've never seen me that way before, because it's usually just you and me and I don't feel drained with you at all, but if I'm in groups sometimes I do get that way. I didn't want you to think I'm rude or that I don't like your friends if I suddenly stop talking as much. I'm still there mentally, I just don't contribute as much once my introvert meter is full. How long that takes depends on what kind of day I've had."

It was true that Spencer had never seen her when her 'introvert meter' was full, but he had noticed before that certain things seemed to get to her. She didn't like loud noises, especially if they were sudden. Sometimes her shoulders would draw up towards her ears if a car with a loud motor went by, and don't even get her started on motorcycles or people going by with the bass pumping in their cars.

He'd also noticed that she couldn't stand to be in bright places. She had even told him once that if it was too bright outside, the place behind her eyes would start to hurt and she would get a headache. She loved overcast days because she could go out without sunglasses.

Spencer never told her, but what she kept experiencing was a form of sensory overload. She never got irritated with anyone as some people did when they experienced it, but she did become agitated in her movements. She would start bouncing her knee up and down or she would start picking at her fingernails.

"Sometimes I have bad days too," he admitted quietly. It wasn't really something he liked talking about, but she'd been open with him. He felt he owed it to her to be the same. "With the noise and the lights. I get migraines sometimes. Sometimes the activity around me gets to me too."

He heard her let out a little laugh.

"We chose the wrong professions. We don't like commotion but you became an agent with the FBI and I chose to work at a school and a youth center. We have nothing but commotion."

"To be fair, it's probably because we deal with commotion at work that we don't want it in our lives outside of it."

"I never thought of it that way," she admitted. "Makes sense."

They kept the conversation light for the rest of the way to Rossi's house. He laughed at her expression of awe when he pulled into the driveway.

"The FBI doesn't pay this well," she exclaimed.

"I told you he was an author."

"Not all authors are paid this well either."

"You're not wrong."

They walked up to the front door together. Spencer noticed that his team members cars were already there, so they were the last to arrive, which didn't surprise him at all.

JJ was the one who opened the door when he rang the doorbell. She was all motherly warmth and bright smiles and the woman beside him seemed to take to JJ immediately.

They made their way to the kitchen, where Rossi was already cooking. The spent the first thirty minutes in there talking and getting a feel for each other.

Spencer could tell that she really liked Rossi – he had a warmth about him too, like a grandfather who likes to dote on his grandchildren – and she got along with Emily really well. She didn't seem to know how to take Hotch, which Spencer understood. Hotch could seem aloof to people who didn't know him well. She seemed overwhelmed by how excitable Garcia could get, but she was able to find things in common with her as well. Morgan behaved himself, flirted only slightly, and she seemed okay with that too.

Unlike Garcia and Morgan, the rest of the team hadn't felt the need to look his new friend up, so they were learning about her the normal way – by asking her questions.

Spencer even learned a few new things about her – mostly about her family. He hadn't asked her much about that area of her life because he wasn't really ready to tell her about his yet.

She was really close to her mom, but her grandmother had been her primary caregiver growing up. She'd picked up her love of reading from her grandmother, who had read to her as a child. She wasn't really close to her dad or her brother, but they were still a part of her life.

"Reid says you run a youth center," Morgan said. "Is that hard to do while working full-time at a school?"

"Not really. I have friends who help a lot during school hours, but most of the time it's not busy until after school. I'm mostly in charge of the paperwork part of the place, anyway. Making sure thing run smoothly."

"What kind of things do the kids get to do there?"

"Well, there's a quiet room for the ones who want to do their work or for the ones who need help with school work. There's a game room where they can play video games or pick out a movie, play pool, things like that. There's a small gym, a workout room . . . picnic area outside."

"Okay, even I didn't know it had all that," Spencer admitted.

She shrugged, but he could tell she liked talking about it. "I kind of wanted it to appeal to everyone."

"Ever had any trouble with the kids?" JJ asked.

"Not really. I mean, a few arguments here and there over little things, but nothing major. We have adults in each room, so they're supervised wherever the are. We don't have doors just as a safety precaution, for them and for us. Even though they're my friends and I trust them, there have to be at least two adults present in each room. No one adult is allowed alone with the children at any time."

"Smart," Morgan said.

"I try to be," she quipped. "Then we have the cameras spaced throughout the inside and definitely outside in the play area. With the way things happen today, I really just wanted to take every precaution I could think of."

During dinner, the conversation was more even-sided. She got to learn more about his friends and what she had in common with them. She and Garcia loved animal videos; she was a cat person like Emily; she had a maternal streak to match JJ's. She had less in common with the others.

She still didn't seem to know how to take Hotch, but she had no problem conversing with him. She was even more open with Rossi. Derek kept the teasing light and innocent throughout dinner and she just went along with it, so Spencer assumed it wasn't bothering her. She didn't seem to only be tolerating it, at least.

It wasn't until after dinner when everyone was offered a drink that Spencer found out that she didn't drink alcohol. They'd never really been in a situation where they'd been offered it before, so he'd had no way of knowing until just then.

They were all seated, spaced out around the room, and Spencer smiled when she chose to sit beside him even though she could have chosen a chair to herself.

He got to see what she'd warned him about firsthand when she started to become less responsive after their third hour being there. It was almost time to go anyway, but he noticed her answers were shorter, less enthusiastic. He also noticed that even though she wasn't as talkative she still paid attention to the others. She didn't just withdraw into herself. Maybe she would if she'd had to do this a lot longer, though.

He'd never really touched her before aside from accidental brushes of fingers when they were at the library – he still had to hand her books sometimes – but he reached out to her this time, touched her on the arm to draw her attention to him. He raised his eyebrows in question when she looked at him and she gave him a small smile, moved slightly more into his touch, and then settled back into the cushion behind her.

They apparently didn't have to leave yet.

[seriousbusinessforhumans]

Feb 2018

The Southern Poverty Law Center (SPLC) counted over 100 people killed or injured by alleged perpetrators influenced by the so-called "alt-right" — a movement that continues to access the mainstream and reach young recruits.

On December 7, 2017, a 21-year-old white male posing as a student entered Aztec High School in rural New Mexico and began firing a handgun, killing two students before taking his own life. At the time, the news of the shooting went largely ignored, but the online activity of the alleged killer, William Edward Atchison, bore all the hallmarks of the “alt-right”—the now infamous subculture and political movement consisting of vicious trolls, racist activists, and bitter misogynists.

But Atchison wasn’t the first to fit the profile of alt-right killer—that morbid milestone belongs to Elliot Rodger, the 22-year-old who in 2014 killed seven in Isla Vista, California, after uploading a sprawling manifesto filled with hatred of young women and interracial couples (Atchison went by “Elliot Rodger” in one of his many online personas and lauded the “supreme gentleman,” a title Rodger gave himself and has since become a meme on the alt-right).

Including Rodger’s murderous rampage there have been at least 13 alt-right related fatal episodes, leaving 43 dead and more than 60 injured (see list). Nine of the 12 incidents counted here occurred in 2017 alone, making last year the most violent year for the movement.

Like Atchison and Rodger, these perpetrators were all male and, with the exception of three men, all under the age of 30 at the time they are alleged to have killed. The average age of the alt-right killers is 26. The youngest was 17. One, Alexandre Bissonnette, is Canadian, but the rest are American. 

The “alternative right” was coined in part by white nationalist leader Richard Bertrand Spencer in 2008, but the movement as it’s known today can largely be traced back to 2012 and 2013 when two major events occurred: the killing of the black teenager Trayvon Martin and the so-called Gamergate controversy where female game developers and journalists were systematically threatened with rape and death. Both were formative moments for a young generation of far-right activists raised on the internet and who found community on chaotic forums like 4chan and Reddit where the classic tenets of white nationalism — most notably the belief that white identity is under attack by multiculturalism and political correctness — flourish under dizzying layers of toxic irony.

The Killings Started in California

The timeline for alt-right killers began on May 23, 2014.

On that day, college sophomore Elliot Rodger stabbed his three roommates to death before driving to a sorority house at the University of California, Santa Barbara, and shooting several women. He then killed or injured several pedestrians with both gunfire and his vehicle before exchanging fire with police and eventually taking his own life. He ultimately killed seven and wounded 14.

Rodger left behind a sprawling 107,000-word manifesto titled, “My Twisted World: The Story of Elliot Rodger,” which contained passages lamenting his inability to find a girlfriend, expressing extreme misogyny and various racist positions including disgust for interracial couples (despite the fact that he was multi-racial himself (half-Chinese)).

“How could an inferior, ugly black boy be able to get a white girl and not me? I am beautiful, and I am half white myself,” Rodger wrote. “I am descended from British aristocracy. He is descended from slaves.”

Rodger frequented PUAhate, a deeply misogynistic forum populated by failed “pick up artists” dedicated to revealing, “the scams, deception, and misleading marketing techniques used by dating gurus and the seduction community to deceive men and profit from them.” Discussions about women on the forum are at best objectifying and at worst, violent.

The term, “white sharia,” allegedly coined by Sacco Vandal of the popular alt-right site Vandal Void, is a radical response to Patrick Buchanan’s argument in Death of the West: that the increase in immigration and decline of white birthrates is leading to the end of Western civilization. Rodger’s celebration at the 504um, one of the premier alt-right forums, is the rule rather than the exception, and locates misogyny at the core of the alt-right.

Andrew Anglin, the neo-Nazi Daily Stormer’s founder and chief propagandist, has his own troubling history of vicious misogyny, tracking all the way back to high school.

In the aftermath of Rodger’s killing spree, a user at 4chan/b/ posted a photo from Rodger’s Facebook page with the note, “Elliot Rodger, the supreme gentleman, was part of /b/. Discuss.” This sentiment was echoed by other /b/ users who found similarities between his lexicon and that of the noxious board, including the term “beta,” used by men online to describe themselves as lacking the physicality, charisma and confidence associated with alpha males.... The term resurfaced on 4chan/r9k/ in the wake of a shooting at Umpqua Community College in Roseburg, Oregon, by Chris Harper-Mercer, who killed nine and wounded at least seven others at the college on October 1, 2015. “This is only the beginning. The Beta Rebellion has begun,” one anonymous user wrote. “Soon, more of our brothers will take up arms to become martyrs to this revolution.”

Although never proven, it is widely speculated that Harper-Mercer was a user on the board as warnings against attending school the following day that circulated on the eve of the shooting. Authorities believe Harper-Mercer, who like Rodger was multi-racial, was also motivated by white supremacist ideas. The Government Accountability Office categorized the Roseburg killings as “white supremacist” in an April 2017 report.

2017: A Year of Alt-Right Violence

The first killing in 2017 that can be tied to the alt-right occurred on January 29 in Canada. A 27-year-old university student named Alexandre Bissonnette allegedly brought a semiautomatic rifle into the Islamic Cultural Centre of Quebec City and shot and killed six worshippers while injuring 19—two critically.

On May 20, 2017, Sean Urbanski, a 22-year-old University of Maryland student, allegedly stabbed and killed newly commissioned Lt. Richard Collins, III. Authorities described the attack as “totally unprovoked.” Urbanski approached Collins, who was black, and two friends at 3 a.m., seemingly intoxicated, and said, “Step left, step left if you know what’s best for you.” When Collins refused, Urbanski stabbed him. Urbanski, however, was a member of a Facebook group called “Alt Reich: Nation”.

Less than a week later, Jeremy Christian, a 35-year-old Portland resident, allegedly stabbed and killed two people and severely wounded another passenger on a train while they were defending two young women from his anti-Muslim and racist remarks. Christian, who identified as a white nationalist and had a history of violence and mental illness, had a Facebook page filled with racist and bizarre political content. Witnesses at an alt-right free speech rally in the month preceding the stabbing saw Christian wearing an American flag cape, yelling racial slurs and making Nazi salutes. 

Two months later, on July 14, 2017, Lane Maurice Davis, 33, allegedly stabbed his father, Charles Davis, to death at the family home in Skagit County, Washington, after accusing his father of pedophilia. Davis, a conspiracy theory obsessive who went by the name ‘Seattle4Truth’ online and accused his father, not based on his own experience, but instead on his belief that liberals around the world are participating in secret pedophilia rings. Davis was reportedly a researcher for Milo Yiannopoulos and claimed to have ghost written pieces on Breitbart News for the former tech editor. 

In the months leading up to Unite the Right, members of the alt-right colonized and organized themselves on the gaming chat platform Discord. This includes Auernheimer who was a frequent participant in the Daily Stormer’s server, “Thunderdome,” where he regularly interacted with site readers and put out calls for action.

Young, White, Angry, Male

According to Dr. Eric Madfis, author of a 2014 paper on the intersectional identities of American Mass Murderers, young, white, middle class, heterosexual males commit mass murder at a disproportionately high rate relative to their population size in the United States.

The rate of mass murders spiked in the 1970s and 1990s. Between 1966 and 1999, there were 95 cases of mass public shootings. Between 1976 and 2008, mass murders occurred roughly twice per month, claiming an average of 125 deaths each month. A more recent study published by Mother Jones identifies 95 mass shootings in the United States since 1982. Of those, 55 (59%) were committed by white men.

FBI crime data suggests that ages 16 to 24 are peak time for violent crime. According to Dr. Pete Simi, Director of the Earl Babbie Research Center at Chapman University, "This is a period of substantial transition in an individual's life, when they're less likely to have significant attachments in their life that deter them from criminal violence."

Madfis’s 2014 paper from the University of Washington investigates the role of intersectional identities in mass murder incidents and argues that young, white males' unique downward social mobility, relative to his expectations, accounts for their overrepresentation as perpetrators of mass murder.

Only one in five mass murderers are “likely psychotic or delusional,” however, according to Dr. Michael Stone, a forensic psychiatrist at Columbia University.

A 2001 study conducted by Meloy examining 34 adolescent perpetrators of mass murder found that 59% were the direct result of a triggering event. That rate jumped to 90% among adult mass murders. 

Dr. Elliott Leyton, an expert on serial homicide, argues that contemporary mass murderers often target the perceived source of lost financial stability or class prestige. The alt-right, which couches its mission in terms of surviving literal extinction, routinely laments so-called reverse racism and affirmative action as well as immigration in all its forms.

The grievances collected by those motivated by the white nationalist ideology at the heart of the alt-right often do not begin with racist propaganda, but rather in the toxic communities of the men's rights movement... The age-old racist argument - that black men are 'taking our women' — is made regularly. Racist slurs are chucked around casually. There seems to be a significant overlap with organised white supremacy." 

Andrew Anglin once wrote “[o]ur target audience [for the neo-nazi website Daily Stormer] is white males between the ages of 10 and 30.”

Wiring Young Neurons

“Our target audience is white males between the ages of 10 and 30,” Anglin wrote in his “PSA: When the Alt-Right Hits the Street, You Wanna be Ready.” “I include children as young a ten, because an element of this is that we want to look like superheroes. We want to be something that boys fantasize about being a part of. That is a core element to this. I don’t include men over the age of 30, because after that point, you are largely fixed in your thinking. We will certainly reach some older men, but they should not be a focus.”

[Richard] Spencer told Mother Jones in December of 2016 before a contentious speaking engagement at Texas A&M University. “I think you do need to get them while they are young. I think rewiring the neurons of someone over 50 is effectively impossible.”

Undeniably, their efforts have had success. Mainstay racist conferences, like the annual gatherings of American Renaissance and the National Policy Institute, are attracting larger audiences, no longer dominated by their once singular demographic of middle-aged white men.

On a panel at Harvard University in October, Derek Black, son of longtime white supremacist Don Black, who once represented the future of the movement until he renounced racism during college, described his surprise at seeing so many young participants in Charlottesville:

I can say for sure my entire life in white nationalism I went to conferences many times a year. I spoke at them. I tried to organize them. I organized online through my dad's site [Stormfront] through organizations whether Jared [Taylor]'s AmRen or David [Duke]'s EURO or Council of Conservative Citizens … Everybody at these things is gray-haired. Me and two other people would be under 40. That was it. Which is partly why I took this impression that this is not gonna last. And a lot of that is because young people have a lot to lose … Young people who show up to a rally like that are going to get their identities exposed online and then it's gonna be hard for them to get jobs … I cannot actually explain what changed. The one striking thing about Charlottesville…was there's a ton of young kids like college-age or actual college students who got on buses and went to this who I don't think had been to an event like that before. 

Alt-right groups such as Identity Evropa and Vanguard America are marketing themselves exclusively to college and high school-aged individuals.

Then, on October 19, barely two months after the chaos of Charlottesville, the University of Florida was forced to host a Spencer speaking engagement under threat of a lawsuit........................ Hours later, three of his supporters were arrested for attempted murder after an alleged confrontation with protestors in which Spencer’s supporters threw stiff-armed salutes and one fired a shot at the urging of his accomplices. 

Not Even 21

James Alex Fields was only 20 years-old when he drove his Dodge Challenger into a crowd of attendees and protestors during August’s Unite the Right rally in Charlottesville, Virginia, injuring 19 and killing 32-year-old Heather Heyer. Fields stood with members of Vanguard America during the rally and carried a shield with the militaristic, alt-right group’s insignia on it.

According to police records, Fields also had a troubling history of childhood domestic violence — which experts see in about 1 in 6 mass killers. In 2010, Field’s mother called 911 after he attacked her for telling him to stop playing a video game. Other records reveal that he brandished a 12-inch knife at her on a separate occasion. His disabled mother uses a wheelchair.

Just three months prior to Unite the Right, another young, white man with a history in the alt-right, 18-year-old Devon Arthurs, allegedly killed two of his roommates... in Florida. Arthurs, who was taken into custody by authorities after holding employees of a tobacco shop hostage, had converted to Salafism, an ultraconservative form of Sunni Islam, and begun defending ISIS online a year prior. He was previously a leader of a National Socialist group known as the Atomwaffen (“Atomic Weapon”) Division which formed on the fascist forum Iron March. 

In the year leading up to the shooting, Arthurs appeared to be blending his alt-right beliefs with his newfound adherence to extremist forms of Islam. His username changed from Weissewolfe to Kekman Al-Amriki, a combination of the trollish god of “meme magic” common to 4chan and the name of an American member of al-Shabab, an Islamic militant organization. According to VICE, Arthurs also spoke of “white sharia,” a concept exemplifying the brutal, misogynistic core attitudes of the alt-right and those it has inspired to violence.

Leaderless Resistance

In 2014, after longtime Klansman Frazier Glenn Miller Jr. killed three at a Jewish community center and a retirement home in Overland Park, Kansas, Brad Griffin of Occidental Dissent published an article on the topic of “self detonating lone wolf vanguardists.” According to Griffin, “a ‘self detonating lone wolf vanguardist’ is someone who is radically alienated from society and who has given up on persuasion, a fanatacist who is inclined toward violent methods of bringing about eschatological political change, who usually acts alone or with an accomplice in the name of a movement without the support of assistance of any group, and who typically explodes, lashes out, or ‘self detonates’ without warning in rampage shootings, murder-suicides, and bombing campaigns.”

In its just over four years of operation, the Daily Stormer’s audience included at least three readers who were either convicted or indicted for murder. 

"An Age of Ultraviolence"

On June 17, 2015, Dylann Storm Roof killed nine African-American worshipers and wounded one while attending a Bible study class at Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church in Charleston, South Carolina. Roof, then 21, told his victims, including Reverend and State Senator Clementa Pickney, that, “I have to do it. You rape our women and you’re taking over our country, and you have to go.”

In a manifesto posted to his website, lastrhodesian.com, Roof cited the Trayvon Martin case as his inspiration for searching on Google for “black on White crime.” According to Roof, “I have never been the same since that day. The first website I came to was the Council of Conservative Citizens. There were pages upon pages of these brutal black on White murders. I was in disbelief.”

On March 22, 2017, another Daily Stormer reader, James Harris Jackson, was arrested after stabbing 66-year-old black man Timothy Caughman with a sword in Manhattan. Jackson, an army veteran, was 28 at the time of the alleged stabbing. He travelled to New York from Baltimore, Maryland, to conduct a “practice run” for what was intended to deter white women from race-mixing. He told a media source after his arrest that, “the white race is being eroded.” 

On Friday, December 27, a 17-year-old white male, reported to be Nicholas Giampa, allegedly shot and killed the parents of his ex-girlfriend in Reston, Virginia, before turning the gun on himself. According to reports, the parents had facilitated the break-up after learning that Giampa held neo-Nazi beliefs.

Giampa’s account also attempted to engage with those of alt-right leaders and organizations like Mike Peinovich, VDARE, the Traditionalist Worker Party, Identity Evropa, as well as Vanguard America, the neo-Nazi group that James Fields was photographed with in Charlottesville. One of Giampa’s main obsessions, however, was the hardcore neo-Nazi group Atomwaffen.

2018 is already off to a disturbing start. On January 2, Blaze Bernstein, a college student who was gay and Jewish went missing and was later found murdered. Friends of the accused murderer, Samuel Woodward, told ProPublica that Woodward was a committed neo-Nazi and member of Atomwaffen which may have as chapters in as many as eight states.

This former Atomwaffen member also said that the events in Charlottesville had a major impact on the group. Its membership doubled.  

(selected sections of article)

[joyrose-fandomer]

Please, don’t fall for me (Sanders Sides fantasy school AU) Chap 2

Relationships : Future (Prinxiety, Intrological, Mocite, Platonique Moxiety and platonique Analogical)

POV : Virgil

Characters : Virgil; Remy

TW : Panic attaque (yes again),  Curse words (All on Remy)

Previous <<  >>Next

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

"How was school ?"

For only answer, Virgil flopped on the couch and grunted.

"That bad ?" asked his dad with a sigh. "What happened ?"

His father sat next to him on the couch while Virgil told him everything that happened during swimming classes. Only living out the breathing underwater part. 

His paternal was open-minded and accepting about many things, but magic and supernatural were always a big no.

Virgil didn't think anything of it at the time. It wasn't like magic existed anyway he taught, it was probably just his imagination, was it?

  "It's ok Virgil, I'm sure it won't be as bad as the last school." Said his dad comfortingly.

"What if it is? You don't know how some people can be when they get you in their line of sight. They become another person completely!"

 He didn't mean to yell but he could feel memories he rather forgets forever resurface and he really wished he could just pack his things now and move to one more town.

His father sighed. "I know Virgil... But we can't keep changing school and town every time you charm your classmates. We're really short on money and if I resign from this job I can't guarantee that we'll have enough to eat. I hope you understand"

His father was working at a car wash at the moment. The last worker got to another country and they were in serious need of a new one. It wasn't very well paid and if they had to pay rent they would have starved to death long ago. But luckily for them, the house they're inhabiting was a vacation house landed by one of his paternal's friends.

Virgil felt selfish for even thinking of moving out. His father was already having a hard time because of him, he shouldn't have been difficult like that.

"Your right. Sorry..." The boy mumble in a pillow

His parent put a hand on the head of the disgruntled boy and drew small circles in his hair like he always did when Vigile was close to getting a panic attack. It never failed to comfort him and right now he couldn't be more thank full to have his father.

"Virgil, the Director wants you in his office."

Wow. The day was starting GREAT...

Virgil was getting back to school after a day of break to recover mentally and the first thing the teacher said when entering the classroom was that.

Virgil stood up and walked out of the room between his classmate's whispers and a few encouraging words from the boys of his classes. "I'm sure it's not bad", "You got this man". It was a little comforting but it still felt like a walk of shame.

Once out of the classroom the confused boy got through the corridors running everything bad that could happen in his head. He was totally going to get fired, he didn't know for what but he surely did something, or else he wouldn't be called to the director's office.

Finally, the high school boy stopped in front of the office's door.

He was supposed to knock now. But he was way too afraid to do so. Maybe he could wait a few more minutes?

Wasn't it going to make his anxiety even worst?

What if someone passed by and saw him standing in front of the director's office like that and call him a weirdo.

In the end, he didn't have to open the door at all since someone else opened it from the inside.

"Dam girl, how long you've been planning to stand there? Some b*ches have things to do you know ?"

The man looked down on Virgil through his sunglasses, hiding his facial expression. It was hard to know if he was really mad or just joking so Virgil got straight to the worst conclusion and decided he was mad at him.

Virgil looked at the ground and got quickly into the office to not make him wait any longer.In the office was another man sitting at the desk.

Wait that's the director? Virgil was only in the school for a few months and he didn't have a really good facial memory.

If the other guy was not the director who is he?

How did he know Virgil would come?

He apparently took too much time thinking because the man with the sunglasses interrupted his thoughts once more.

"Just put your ass down girl, we'll explain everything to you"

Virgil did as asked and took a seat in front of the director. The man took off his leather jacket and sat next to him.

The director started to talk.

"My apologies for taking you out of your class without warning but we heard from your classmate what happened at your gym classes. Are you ok ?"

Virgil quickly nodded back.

"Good. The reason why I called you here is my friend, Remy, here is interested in the swimming abilities you shown. And would like to see if you're interested in a school where you're abilities could be exploited at their full potential.

 The range of sports activities in a small-town's high school is limited and keeping you here would be a waste of potential.

 Of course, if you wished to stay at this school it's ok. I'm just asking you to think about it."

 The director stopped. Letting Virgil take it all in.

Abilities? Potential? Changing school? What were they talking about? Were they trying to get rid of him? Was the situation at the pool really this bad to try to get rid of him? Is that new school a youth detention center? He didn't do anything bad! He doesn't want to go to jail!

"Hey edge lord, you're there?" The voice next to him asked.

Virgil barely moved. His panic was starting to take over. The comment passed through the fog of his brain like a far-away figure.

"Yeah, you got too hard on him gurl. Could you get me a coffee while I take care of that, sweety?"

"Please, Remy. A thought we agreed to stop with the nicknames, could you hold still in front of the kids at least?"

"Yeah yeah sure."

The voice dismissed the other person. A shadow stood up and walked away. The sound of a closing door and the silence.

Virgil's anxious thoughts tried to come back-

"Hey kid"

but they got cut immediately.

"I don't know where you think I'm trying to take you to but no matter what it is, it's wrong."Sayed the fare away voice.

"We've been looking for you for a while now. You're moving a lot you know ?"

How did he think it would calm him in any way!

The fog of his mind got blown away by the sudden choc. He was now hyper-aware of everything around him.

"Do you know why we were looking for you?"

The panicked boy shook his head violently. He didn't dare to get his eyes off his knees although he really wanted to see the men's facial expression.

"No wonder. Let's get it out of the way. You're a half siren."

Virgil's head shoots up. He couldn't help but send the adult next to him a very unconvinced look.

What? siren? Did that guy hit his head or something?

"Yeah yeah, I get that look 3 times a day. That's the truth honey, just deal with it."

Virgil had so many sassy thing to answers to that but he couldn't. The man was already weird if he started acting like his classmate Virgil would never get rid of him.

"I know you want to say something just say it girl. I know you're not mute"

Virgil kept staring at the insane men like he could make him go away by sheer willpower.

"Let me guess, you're afraid of talking because you're afraid of charming me by accident, right? Is that why you wear this stupid face mask and hood?  Cause if that's to look cool it would be very sad, sweety."

Remy completed his sentence with a little smirk. Was he making fun of him?

Did he look this stupid with a face mask?

"Do you really think it's a normal thing for a human to make everyone fall in love with you just like that? To know how to swim naturally? To breath underwater? Come on gurl try and use your brain for a sec would ya?"

It did sound weird, phrased like that but there was probably a logical reason. Sirens didn't exist.

The man took a bottle full of a purple liquid out of his pocket and drunk out of it.

"Burk! This thing tastes horrible. Ok, kid, I need to test something. Could you say something? No fret, I'm not going to go crazy over you."

He took his hands up in a surrender gesture. He seems way too calm for all of this, it was like he was actually used to it all.

But how was drinking juice going to change anything? Virgil was confused. He looked at him stubbornly for a few minutes but the man didn't move an inch. He was waiting for Virgil to say something and he wasn't going to budge before he did.

Where was the director!

"I'm not a siren."

 That was all Virgil managed to say.

The men looked at him for a few seconds. before laughing and taking another sip of the liquid.

"You're good, I will give you that gurl. But that's the thing, you're not a siren. Just a half siren.

 You have no control over your powers. If we let you roam around like that you're going to charm the entirety of the human populace.

 That's why we're going to get you to this new school. To teach you how to contrôle your abilities. Got it, sweety?"

No change of attitude? Virgil was starting to wonder if he was saying the truth after all.

"No..."

Because it didn't make any sense. He was normal right? His dad always told him he was normal. He was just popular, it was normal in movies to be this popular.

At that moment the door of the office opened. And the director came in with a coffee in each hand.

He sat down sighing and gave a coffee cup to Remy.

"My apologies for the time. A few teachers needed my help urgently. So, feeling better young men?"

Virgil nodded. Remy put the bottle of purple liquid back in his pocket.

"Hi gurl, I gave him the speech about the sports clubs at school and all. Do you have the brochure I gave you ?"

Director sent him a murderous look at the nickname but didn't say a thing.

While the director was looking through his pockets, Remy gave Virgil a folded paper.

"There it is" Sayed the director before giving a brochure to Virgil. It's a very good school you should think about it"

Virgil had now two folded papers in his hands but the director didn't notice from behind the desk.

Remy pointed at the brochure the director gave him. Still hidden from the director.

"Don't forget to talk about it with parents about the school, kid. Just in case they say yes, you know."

Then he pointed to the paper he gave Virgil.

"And go visit, it's open all weak. But only for students, not the parents.

 If it's too far from your home I'll get you a ride, my number's already on it. And no giving my number, I know I'm hot but unfortunately for all the babes out there I'm already married.

Seriously tho, check it out. I'm sure it would change your mind.

And if you don't, I can still just kidnap you"

He laughed and took a long sip of coffee.

Was he serious about the kidnapping?

The director was starting to look frustrated by this reunion and put an end to it.

"Remy, please avoid those types of jocks, in serious discussion in the future. Virgil, you can go back to class. Don't forget to warn us if you choose to change school."

"haha sorry, honey! It was just a joke"

The man with the sunglass answered in a laugh.

But while Virgil was walking out of the office, could feel his look piercing through the sunglasses.

Virgil turned around one last time before closing the door. 

Remy was sitting in the chair like he owns the place, a big smile hidden behind his coffee cup. Virgil could swear he saw his eyes glow behind the shades.

He was not joking.

***<>===========<>**

There the chapter 2 of that AU. God I made 2 chapters and posted them it’s a record for me ! (>w<)

@moments-of-selves @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes  I think you two where waiting for the next part ? I hope it’s ok to @ you ? 

[sweetsoundsofignorance]

Currently running around bugging people and I want to know your thoughts on this: if you had full creative control of the show, how would you run season 5? You can pick and choose whatever leaks you want to include.

Thank you for the ask! 💕 A very fun exercise, and there has been some excellent speculation from the fandom. I’ve enjoyed reading everyone’s takes on it that I’m almost inclined to create bingo cards out of everyone’s nuttier speculations and play Riverdale batshit bingo for the season, a la Cabin the Woods.

I should say Riverdale speculation and leaks can leave me feeling overwhelmed at times, so I drift in and out when they are circling. Therefore, this rant is limited to the leaks/speculation/trailer gifs I have seen or heard about because I have no self-control. I’ve also not seen 4x17 or 4x18 (though I feel like I have through a mishmash of so many GIFs and recaps and speculations). In my mind, 4x17 is just *insert gif of Betty standing in the middle of the woods holding a bloody rock* Atm, no one knows how we got there.

Given the beginning of season five will be the tail-end of season four, perhaps start there? This got away from me, so it’s under the cut.

I imagine they will close four with the reveal of the voyeur and Chic/Charles plotline (with Riverdale you never know where they’re going to be selectively sloppy). In that case, I have fully adopted the following speculation/serenity prayer: see @sullypants theory here. It’s the perfect level of batshit Riverdale and it’s consistent with the hypnosis (cannot keep a straight face just typing it) plotline. I know, consistent and Riverdale should never be in the same sentence without some negative participle in between. So, that “cleans up” the Bughead infidelity but leaves Varchie in the weeds (sigh). It would ex out Charles/Chic. The fallout would break up Falice, possibly.

 FP gets busted for all the shady shit he’s done as sheriff and has to flee the country, so hi, Canada, but no wrestle mania with the grizzly bears this time. Or he gets eaten by a bear. I don’t care.

 Veronica gains some self-agency and leaves for college. Though I want her to get out from under her father, loyalty to family is so engrained with the Lodges that I don’t see it happening. Maybe we’ll get lucky and Hiram’s terminal illness kills him. If Toni and Cheryl break up, Cheronica may happen through their rum business, which takes off. I would not be remiss if Cheryl and Veroncia were endgame, but I know it won’t shake out like that, so. Also, if it is hypnosis, I hope Veronica and Betty would still be friends long-distance.

 Toni takes the reins for the Southside, ends the rampant Serpent misogyny, actually makes the neighborhood a safe space for the residents, and works to end the cycle of poverty. She manages the White Wyrm, and yes, there are still strippers because nothing wrong with that, but the Serpent Dance is barely a footnote. I am curious if they will shoot around Vanessa’s pregnancy, but if they incorporate it into the show, I would not be against Cheryl and Toni having a child together. If they did not break up.

 For Jughead, he got his MFA at Iowa, but in true millennial fashion, never made it past that (for a great fic on the plight of the underemployed over-educated millennial see @imreallyloveleee head underwater). He might have written a first novel that was semi-popular, received a few good reviews but overall lambasted by the bigger names. Head canon is that it becomes a cult classic in later years, perhaps a screenplay. Hard forever no to him being an alcoholic, but I can see some Sideways-level angst dealing with trying to get over writer’s block (plus anxiety block based on the mediocre success of his first) for his next novel and some bitterness about his first novel, which may be the driving wedge between Jughead and whoever ends up being his SO in this scenario.

 Jughead as an English teacher gels for me. I’ve written him as an English teacher. I like reading him as an English Teacher (*cough* *cough* @geekspen). Though they flopped with the Jug and Jellybean relationship in season four, I always imagined Jughead from season one and that brief moment in season three as a very present and considerate big brother type. Based on those brief interactions we have gotten, I would believe Jughead is good with kids, especially teenagers. He’s had experience dealing with dumbass adolescents, i.e. the Serpents, and (kind of) keeping them in line, mainly by out-extra-ing the morons (see declaring himself gamemaster by ordering Cheryl to shoot an arrow through a can on his head). I see him being that curmudgeonly teacher that gets along with those grab-bag students on the edge of committing a crime out of sheer boredom who linger in their English teacher’s classrooms during lunch and after school (that’s how we started our creative writing club in high school), and that leads me to a head-canon about him starting, yes, a creative writing club or running the Blue and Gold. I love full-circle shit like that. I think he would be an objectively bad teacher but a very good one in the context of Riverdale, if that makes sense.

 Bughead long distance did not pan out, and Betty being Betty immersed herself in her career – degree in criminal psychology, BSU at the FBI, the whole shebang. Reports of a giant man with red eyes and wings seen in the vicinity of places where people are disappearing. FBI!Betty investigates these at her alma mater until one happens in Riverdale, which drags her investigation thattaway.

 Veronica is unhappy with her SO for whatever reason (not exactly jazzed about her being with a douche but ok). She is successful but wistful. Her father dies. She uses it as an excuse to break up with her SO and return to Riverdale to help her mother manage the estate. Because Veronica is successful in her own right, most of the estate goes to her mother and Hermosa. She returns to Pop’s one night for nostalgia’s sake. She signed the diner back over to Tate years ago.

 Jughead is there struggling to write after a fight with his SO.

 Side note: I don’t like love triangles. Even less, I don’t like setups for more infidelity, even if it would lead to my ship ending up together. I understand that is often the reality (I’ve witnessed it), but I think it is bad writing. So, for any of the core four’s respective SOs, please no cheating on them. Break it off. Learn from your mistakes. Therefore, Jughead soon breaks up with his SO after meeting Veronica in Pop’s.

 Veronica sits with him. Cue some reminiscing. Perhaps the mystery starts in the speakeasy, of which Veronica is still the partial owner. This connects Betty and Veronica down the road. Because Jughead witnessed it, Betty crosses paths with him.

 Initially, Betty is reticent to let Jughead get involved with her investigation. However, Jughead is just as obsessed with the mystery (because he’s him), so they keep running into each other. He gets in the way a few times (more tension). Eventually, Jughead ends up discovering some important piece of evidence that Betty needs, so she gives in. Before he joins her investigation, he may be keeping his own personal murder board in the Blue and Gold at school after hours… Lots of sexual tension. I’d even be down for friends with benefits because *insert gif of Donna accusing Betty of being addicted to Jug’s vitamin D*. But Betty knows she isn’t going to stay in Riverdale and they’ve already tried and failed long-distance, so she keeps putting on the brakes. Jughead starts to get his writing mojo back, too, because I will never not believe Betty is his muse.

 Archie. Oh Archie. Deployed overseas for a time, though I cannot stand the idea of giving this kid anymore PTSD. He returns, and for a while, spends most of his time alone at the old gym and in the Andrews home. His old army buddy shows up out of work. He works with Toni to create a real community center for the Southside youth because I enjoyed that poorly executed plotline in season four. This also gives his army buddy a job. His army buddy is from New Haven, so he ends up being a Mothman suspect, given it started at Betty’s alma mater.

 Through his work with Toni, he gets dragged into Jughead’s orbit. Maybe they both try to reactivate the community center’s big brother program together. It’s just very difficult for me to imagine Jughead accepting/forgiving Archie, and though I cannot imagine how they would resolve it, I would like to see it.

[aion-rsa]

25 Best Sports TV Shows

https://www.denofgeek.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/TV-High-School-Travel-Guides.png?resize=400%2C400

Sports stories have traditionally belonged to the movies. Something about the rhythms of competition, in which an athlete or team trains, plays, and then either wins or loses, is a natural fit for the film world’s three act structure.

Television, with its multiple episodes and seasons, is often more discursive and therefore less viable for truly great sports stories. Thankfully, that all seems poised to change. While some sports TV shows have found success in the past, now the medium has really kicked things up a notch. Sports stories like Brockmire, Ted Lasso, Cobra Kai, and more are not only welcome on television, but an essential part of the cable and streaming landscape. 

Read more

TV

The United States of TV High Schools

By Alec Bojalad

Movies

The Best Sports Documentaries To Stream

By Scott Fontana and 2 others

With that in mind, it’s high time we pay homage to TV’s great sports programs. What follows is a list of 25 of the best sports TV shows of all time, hand selected by Den of Geek (i.e. me: the arms-crossed weirdo in the picture at the bottom of this article). 

It’s important to keep in mind that these are the best scripted sports TV shows. Television is, of course, no stranger to live sports and the various programs that surround them. Consider these unscripted American sports shows as honorable mentions: Hard Knocks, Last Chance U, Ken Burns’ Baseball, The Last Dance (and most other 30-for-30s), Cheer, Inside the NBA.

Enough of the undercard, now onto the main event. 

25. Red Oaks

Amazon Prime’s Red Oaks examines the bougie tennis lifestyle of the 1980s. It all comes through the lens of David Myers (Craig Roberts), a college student looking to pick up some cash by taking a summer job at an upscale Jewish country club in New Jersey. Sports stories and coming-of-age stories fit particularly well because the end goal of each one is usually growth. It’s hard to say whether David grows during his time at Red Oaks, but he certainly changes over the series’ three seasons. 

24. The Mighty Ducks: Game Changers

A TV show based on Disney sports movie behemoth franchise The Mighty Ducks was all but an inevitability, particularly when the major conglomerate secured its own streamer in Disney+. We’re all lucky then that The Mighty Ducks: Game Changers turned out to be quite good rather than completely perfunctory. The show is bold enough to recast its Ducks’ franchise as the villains and to rally around the radical idea that youth sports should be fun. 

23. One Tree Hill

At first glance, One Tree Hill doesn’t seem too different from the other teen shows of its era on The CW (though The CW was still “The WB” for One Tree Hill’s first two seasons). It’s about high schoolers in a small town, doing high school things. Where One Tree Hill excels (at least in its early, still high school seasons) is the introduction of basketball as a storytelling crutch. Half brothers Lucas (Chad Michael Murray) and Nathan Scott (James Lafferty) have a turbulent enough relationship to begin with. What better way to contextualize that relationship than through the high stakes lens of high school basketball?

22. Lights Out

Not to be confused with the 2016 horror film of the same name, Lights Out is a boxing series from FX that ran for one excellent season in 2011. Holt McCallany (best known now as Agent Bill Tench on Mindhunter) stars as retired heavyweight champion Patrick “Lights” Leary. Despite displaying signs of neurological trauma from his career, Lights can’t help but want to return to the ring for one more shot of glory (and to pay off his family’s many debts). Lights Out is a sad, elegiac little story about how one man who sees a sport that broke his brain as the only realistic option for success. 

21. Big Shot

Big Shot premiered shortly after its bigger-named Disney+ cousin The Mighty Ducks: Game Changers. And while Game Changers made a slightly bigger splash, Big Shot might be the better sports show. The story follows Marvyn Korn (John Stamos), a tempermental basketball coach who ends up at an elite all-girls prep school to shepherd its basketball program. Big Shot runs through all the tried and true tropes and beats of sports stories and does so with aplomb. Consider it Hardball meets Hoosiers with plenty of Stamos charm. 

20. Hangin’ with Mr. Cooper

Sports are somewhat incidental to Hangin’ with Mr. Cooper’s mission. Sure, lead character Mr. Cooper (Mark Curry) is a former Golden State Warriors basketball player turned PE teacher. But like its TGIF programming block peers, this show is a charming hangout comedy with few lasting conflicts to speak of. Still, you don’t spend that much time in a gym without some three-pointers and lay-ups. 

19. Coach

Before Craig T. Nelson was Mr. Incredible (or made this truly amazing televised statement), he was best known for portraying the title role in ‘90s ABC sitcom Coach. In fact, many of our archetypical perceptions of what makes a football coach likely come from Nelson’s portrayal of Coach Hayden Fox (who first coached for a fictional NCAA football team and later an NFL one). This is a man whose skill at molding young athletes belies his lack of skill at…well, everything else. Ultimately, Coach is a worthwhile multiseason experience in which a grown man grows up.

18. Kingdom

Kingdom is probably the best sports TV show that you’ve never heard of. Don’t worry, it’s not your fault. That’s just the kind of thing that happens when a show is damned to languish on AT&T’s ludicrous “Audience Network”. Kingdom is set in an MMA gym and captures all the drama provided in the heightened world of mixed martial arts combat. The show is blessed with some great characters and an even better cast. Frank Grillo (Captain America’s most annoying foe, Brock Rumlow), Kiele Sanchez (Lost), Matt Lauria (Friday Night Lights), Jonathan Tucker, (Justified)  and Nick Jonas (yes, that Nick Jonas) all make their mark on the series.

17. The White Shadow

Premiering in 1978, CBS’s The White Shadow was uncommonly progressive for its time. The series follows Ken Reeves (Ken Howard), a white NBA player who retires after a knee injury and elects to take up coaching at Carver High School in South Central Los Angeles. Coach Reeves’s team is made up primarily of Black and Hispanic players and the show deals with the social ills of life in the inner city. It’s also quite funny and charming and features a commitment to realistic basketball scenes.

16. The League

FX comedy The League works as a sports show (and as a TV show in general) because it has a deep understanding of sports from a fan’s perspective. Sure, fans watch collegiate and professional sports to marvel at the athleticism, training, and skill on display. But more importantly, they watch sports to have something to talk about with their friends. Though the participants in the titular fantasy football league at the center of The League grew up as friends, who’s to say they would have stayed friends so long without this league keeping them together? Ruxin (Nick Kroll) is an asshole. Andre (Paul Scheer) is annoying. And Taco (Jon Lajoie) is, well…Taco.

15. Rocket Power

If the ‘90s taught us anything it’s that extreme sports are sports too, man! Rocket Power is a lovely little slice of life Nick Toon that follows four kids in a fictional California surfing community. Otto Rocket, Reggie Rocket, Maurice “Twister” Rodriguez, and Sam “Squid” Dullard spend their days skateboarding, surfing, playing street hockey, and occasionally snowboarding. It’s a wonderful ode to childhood and all the athletic activities that make the day (and years) go by far too quickly. 

14. Luck

If things shook out differently, perhaps Luck could have been considered one of the five or so best sports shows of all time. All of the pieces were in place. This 2012 HBO series had the right creative team (created and run by Deadwood’s David Milch and starring Dustin Hoffman with a pilot directed by Michael Mann) to go along with an intriguing premise (complicated characters’ lives intersecting at a horse track). But alas…the dead horses. Oh so many dead horses. Despite stringent safety measures put in place, Luck lost three hoof bois during filming of its first season and was canceled shortly thereafter. May they all rest in peace.

13. All American

High school is a turbulent time in all our lives. And when the high stakes world of competitive football is added in, things can only get more intense. The CW’s All American opts to take the world of high school football and opts to add in a welcome dose of sociopolitical commentary. This series is loosely based on the life of former New York Giants linebacker Spencer Paysinger and follows his character “Spencer James” as he is recruited from South L.A. to play for the affluent Beverly Hills High. The show wisely understands that sports (particularly when they involve Black teenagers) are a marvelous portal to explore American society. 

12. Pitch

Cruelly cut short after just one season of 10 episodes, Pitch is the kind of sports show that will inspire sports stories for years to come. This baseball series for Fox comes from Dan Fogelman (This Is Us) and Rick Singer. It follows the saga of Ginny Baker (Kylie Bunbury), who becomes the first woman to play in Major League Baseball when she’s called up to pitch by the San Diego Padres. Pitch was blessed with an excellent cast including Bunbury and Mark-Paul Gosselaar as a veteran catcher nearing the end of his Hall of Fame career. More interestingly, it was blessed with an actual MLB licensing deal. There are no silly fictional teams in this show like the Tuscaloosa Barn-Burners or the Helena Hellcats. It’s all real MLB team names and logos, adding to the realism of a cool premise.

11. Ballers

Of course, Elizabeth Warren’s favorite show has to be on this list. Ballers has a bit of an unearned reputation for being cringe thanks to its ridiculous name and Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson’s delightful cornball energy. In reality, this is an exceedingly watchable TV show and one that examines the corporate side of professional sports quite well. It’s also noticeable for being most viewers’ introduction to eventual Tenet star John David Washington. 

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10. GLOW

Is professional wrestling a sport? Vince McMahon would argue that it’s “sports entertainment.” I would argue that that’s more than good enough to get the excellent GLOW on this list. GLOW tragically fell victim to Netflix’s whimsical cancellation procedures. Why the almighty algorithm decided a show needed to be canceled after it was already renewed is beyond me. But don’t let that sour three seasons of superb sportsy storytelling. GLOW follows the fictionalized rise of the very real “Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling” and it centers it on the conflict between two former best friends, Ruther Wilder (Alison Brie) and Debbie Eagen (Betty Gilpin). GLOW differs a bit from the usual sports fare in that the “sport” at its center wasn’t necessarily plan A for the athletes. But the experience of watching the ladies train, grow, and succeed is pure and sublime sports story stuff.

9. Cobra Kai

Cobra Kai absolutely could have been phoned in. The streaming world runs on nostalgia and there’s nothing more sweetly nostalgic than The Karate Kid franchise. Instead, this Netflix series changes the original franchise’s perspective by focusing on the “villainous” Cobra Kai dojo and re-examines things from Johnny’s point of view. Ralph Macchio and William Zabka deserve credit for embodying realistically adult, yet flawed versions of their original characters. Equally deserving of credit though is a whole host of young actors bringing the martial arts to a whole new generation. 

8. Blue Mountain State

A lot of the shows on this list are, let’s say, reverential to the sports, teams, and athletes they cover. Spike comedy Blue Mountain State is decidedly…not. This series, following the Mountain Goats football team for the fictional college Blue Mountain State, understands that not all depictions of athletes have to be saints. Sometimes college football player can just be the big dumb animals you want them to be. Through three seasons, this show developed a cult following that would follow it over for a lifetime of reruns on Netflix. Blue Mountain State is crass, dangerous, and entertaining, not entirely unlike football.

7. Sports Night

Speaking of being reverential to sports…like all Aaron Sorkin-created TV series, Sports Night can be a bit full of itself sometimes. That only works when the topic at hand, like the federal branch of the U.S. government, is consequential. Thankfully, sports can be pretty important sometimes too! This late ‘90s show follows the goings-on at a Sportscenter-esque news program hosted by Dan Rydell (Josh Charles) and Casey McCall (Peter Krause). It has all the witty dialogue you’d come to expect from a Sorkin venture. And if you can make your way through the inexplicable laugh track of the early episodes, you will find a mature, entertaining show that properly understands and contextualizes professional sports’ role in American society. 

6. Survivor’s Remorse

Survivor’s Remorse came into the world with two strikes against it. One is a bizarrely overwrought name, and the other is that its home network, Starz, isn’t a given on many cable packages. Still, this LeBron James-produced comedy is shockingly one of the best sports TV shows ever (and perhaps still the best creative venture James has been involved in yet). This story follows NBA athlete Cam Calloway (Jessie T. Usher) as he tries to balance the business and basketball aspects of his life. At first the show focuses on Cam’s guilt for having got out of his impoverished neighborhood when so many couldn’t (hence, the show’s title), but ultimately it evolves into a family comedy drama featuring some truly remarkable characters and performances like Cam’s cousin and manager Reggie Vaughn (RonReaco Lee) and his baller half-sister “M-Chuck” (Erica Ash). Even Monica Rambeau herself, Teyonah Parris, is a part of the proceedings. 

5. Playmakers

Sometimes I can’t even believe that Playmakers is real. Surely, this ESPN series about a fictional football team in a fictional league that is clearly the NFL was just a post-9/11 fever dream we all endured together. Alas, Playmakers was real and it was awesome. This series follows the players on the Cougars as they navigate a football landscape filled with ripped-from-the-headlines strife including Performance enhancing drugs, good old-fashioned drugs, domestic abuse, concussions, and more. The series even introduces the outing of a gay player more than a decade before Michael Sam and Carl Nassib revealed their sexual orientations. Naturally, Playmakers was canceled when the NFL intimated to its broadcast partner ESPN that it wasn’t too pleased with the content of its show. And enraging the National Football League alone is enough to make this an all-time classic.

4. Eastbound & Down

Eastbound & Down creator and star Danny McBride isn’t necessarily a huge fan of baseball. But he is, thankfully, a huge fan of weirdos and creeps. When McBride discovered just how bizarre and poorly behaved certain flamethrowing relief pitchers could be, Kenny Powers and the show around him was born. The baseball “action” in Eastbound isn’t much to write home about. The show isn’t too concerned with the results of any given baseball game and McBride always looks like he’s throwing a javelin and not a baseball. It’s still a phenomenal saga about athletes that dives into Paul Bunyan-esque tales of legendary misbehavior that fame encourages. It’s no coincidence that in the follow ups to Kenny Powers, McBride has delved into megalomaniacal vice principals and bejeweled, sweaty televangelists – all different aspects of the white American male id.

3. Ted Lasso

Of all the sports shows in the TV canon, none feels more like a traditional sports movie than Ted Lasso. This Apple TV+ series plucks an American football coach-fish and gently places him out of water in the English Premier League. The affable Lasso (Sudeikis) is charged with reversing the fortunes of EPL side AFC Richmond. Little does he know, however, that spiteful owner Rebecca Welton (Hannah Waddington) is counting on him to fail, Major League style. Ted Lasso isn’t interested in reinventing the wheel. Instead it perfects it. This is a tale of relentless optimism and unconditional positive regard. Ted breaks the mold for what we expect from coaches, which is probably why so many actual coaches are fond of the show. Simply put: sports stories can’t be done much better than this one. 

2. Brockmire

Sometimes commentators like to bemoan the modern state of baseball. What was once American’s pastime has now supposedly fallen behind things like football and videogames in the pop cultural pecking order. Then along comes something like Brockmire to teach us that baseball as a continuous, seemingly eternal American presence is just as vital as ever. In a career-defining role, Hank Azaria plays disgraced baseball broadcaster Jim Brockmire. Once at the top of his game, an on-air drunken meltdown loses him his job and his sanity. In season 1 of this superb IFC show, Brockmire returns to the booth, this time for an independent league team in Morristown, Pennsylvania. The four seasons that follow are one big love letter to not only baseball, but the messy human experience itself. It’s rare that you get something this funny and this affecting. The fact that it’s wrapped in a stylish diamond-shaped bow is just icing on the cake. 

1. Friday Night Lights

Not only is Friday Night Lights the best sports TV show of all time, it’s hard to imagine it ever being supplanted from its throne. Simply put, Friday Night Lights is a sports television masterpiece. Each of Friday Night Lights’ five seasons (save for the writer’s strike-shortened second) fully capture the ecstasy and agony of high school football in a small Texas town where high school football is the only thing that matters. Friday Night Lights doesn’t shy away from the unsavory institution that is big time high school athletics.

The series opens with a life-changing injury before following it up with tales of corrupt boosters and garden variety West Texas racism. And yet, the show never looks down on its characters. If winning state is important to Coach Taylor (Kyle Chandler), Matt Saracen (Zach Gilford), Tim Riggins (Taylor Kitsch), Smash Williams (Gaius Charles), and Vince Howard (Michael B. Jordan), then it’s important to us too. In fact, when Friday Night Lights is really rolling and the W.G. Snuffy Walden’s Explosions in the Sky-style soundtrack is swirling, you might not recall anything ever mattering to you as much as the Dillon Panthers or the East Dillon Lions winning a football game. Clear eyes, full hearts, absolutely cannot lose.

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[srhlsx]

CHAPTER 2

master | Ch. 1 | Ch. 3 - end

- MAY -

“I’ve never asked you about your club activities,” Akaashi said one morning as the train traveled along on its way to school. 

You stuttered a little bit, fumbling with the earbud you had been attempting to pass to him. Ever since that day you shared your music with him, it had turned into a little bit of a habit that the two of you would share your music each morning. You introduced him to some of your more bizarre musical tastes, usually some unknown foreign artist, and he would comment on whether he likes it or not. 

More often than not, Akaashi said he liked the music even if he didn’t because it was worth it to see the sparkles flash in your eyes.

“Club? I’m not in a club.” You said after getting over your initial shock of him starting the conversation. It’d been a month and even though you regularly talked with one another, you still hadn’t gotten over your little crush for the third year setter. “I work a lot so I don’t really have time for a club. But I do like to draw!”

Akaashi accepted your answer, nodding as he once again snuggled the earbud into his ear and listened to what you had picked for that day - a classical cover of a popular hip-hop song he’d heard over and over on the radio. 

He didn’t know why today of all days he wanted to talk to you more than usual - maybe it was the way that you smelled a little bit more like brown sugar than normal, or how you had decided to chop off a few inches from your hair and it gave you more of an excited and youthful appearance - but he just kept talking.

“Maybe you can show me your drawings some time,” Akaashi smiled warmly at you.

The idea made your heart swell within your chest and you immediately moved to rummage around in your bag. After a few seconds, you pulled out a worn-looking book. You gripped it tightly in both hands, turning in your seat to face Akaashi and holding up the book to hide the lower half of your face. “You really want to see?”

He laughed, eyes squinting as he nodded his head at your enthusiastic and instant response. You set the book down in your lap, scooting a little bit in your seat until your hip was touching his. You were too excited to show off your work to see the very small dusting of pink flash across Akaashi’s face or to feel the burning sensation on your own skin where your bodies had met.

You flipped through a few pages, narrating to Akaashi what you had drawn and what in particular you like to look at for inspiration. Most of what was on the pages were people from your day to day life; your friends, customers at the bakery who stood out to you, the PE teacher at your school who always made the most animated expressions. 

You were about to turn the page once more when Akaashi’s hand stopped you, moving suddenly to catch your own in his grip. “Who is that?” He asked, pointing at a specific drawing in the middle of one of the pages. 

It was one of your newer drawings and you smiled up at him brightly when you answered, “It’s us!”

Akaashi looked down at the faceless couple on the paper. The more he studied it, the more he recognized the two of you. The two figures were seated on a train, a thin line curling and connecting one head to the other. He started to smile as he noticed more details like the anime buttons on his bag, how one of his shoes was untied, and his hands in his lap with his fingers twisted together.

“I left the faces blank, which I know is kind of creepy,” You laughed, lifting a hand to rub at your neck nervously. You turned to look up at Akaashi, catching his eyes. “But I didn’t want to mess up your eyes.”

He turned to dig through his bag and pulled out his phone a moment later, asking if it was okay if he took a picture of the drawing. You nodded and explained that you could just tear it out of the book, the drawings on the other side weren’t that important. He insisted, snapping a perfectly centered picture of the drawing on his phone and smiling at it before tucking the device back into his bag.

- JUNE -

“Akeiji!” You called out in a singsong voice, sliding open the door and bursting into classroom six in the third year hallway like a force of nature. You looked around briefly before your eyes landed on a group of boys huddled together towards the back of the room, the one you had been seeking out tensing ever so slightly when you called out for him.

“(Y/n),” Akaashi sighed, although some might note the faintest hint of a smile forming on his lips. “I asked you not to call me that.”

You stumbled around the classroom and between the rows of desks, attempting to make our way towards the group while not stepping on any of the third year students’ belongings along the way. “Fine,” You huff dramatically, finally making it to him and settling your hands on your hips as you looked down at him with your eyes squinted. “Akaashi.”

“Hello, (Y/n),” He finally greeted you properly, resting his hands on the desk in front of him then looking up at you with that steely blue gaze that made you crumble. 

“Hi.” You returned the greeting with a flash of excitement in your eyes. 

“Hi (y/n),” You turned your gaze away from Akaashi for the briefest of moments to see who had called your name. You recognized them, fellow second years but neither were in your class. One of them was taller, had dark hair, and looked pretty serious; the other was a little shorter, had lighter hair, and looked like he wanted to pee his pants. 

“Hi Onaga, hi Anahori!” You greeted them both with equal enthusiasm, but anyone with eyes could see that your attention was more focused on the third year they sat with. 

As you turned back to Akaashi you noticed he was fiddling with his fingers like he always did whenever he didn’t think anyone was looking. “Did you need something?” He asked.

You tried, really tried, to keep the stern look on your face as you looked at him but after a few heartbeats your resolve fell. You felt it first start in your lips, they betrayed you by morphing against your will into a smile you worked hard to stop. You couldn’t help yourself, there was always something about Akaashi Keiji that made you really want to smile all the time. 

“Yes!” You finally burst after your staring contest. You flailed your arms up wildly before slamming them down on the desk he was sitting at that separated the two of you. The dramatic motion, while not wildly out of character for you, made Akaashi jump slightly and look up at you with alarm along with the other volleyball members he sat with. You ignored their reactions and kept talking, leaning forward to talk to him, so close that your noses were almost touching. “Do you have practice today?”

Akaashi blinked slowly, inwardly amused that you were causing such a scene for something that easily could’ve been resolved with a lot less noise and attention. “Yes, (Y/n).” He said. “We always have practice on Thursdays.”

You hummed thoughtfully, nodding your head and squinting your eyes as you studied his ever serious and lazy expression. After a few moments longer than what normal people would consider to be awkward, you leaned forward and butted your forehead against his. You rested yourself there as you spoke, ignoring the bewildered looks of the other students around you. “I have something for you.”

“Should I be worried?” Akaashi asked, his voice it’s typical neutral tone as he glanced his gaze to look up into yours - it made your heart stutter a little bit.

“Nope,” You pulled away from him, popping the ‘p’ as you spoke. “Just more treats from the bakery. I’ll see you then Kaashi-Kaashi!”

“(Y/n),” He groaned in a warning tone at your use of another nickname.

You pouted again, crossing your arms as you looked down at him. “You know,” You started. “When we get married, I’ll get to call you whatever I want.”

If you hadn’t been looking at him so intently, you might’ve missed the smallest of smiles that Akaashi was clearly trying to hold back. It had spread to his eyes though, the smallest trace of a sparkle shown in the blue of his eyes. “Okay, (y/n).” He said, “Whatever you say.”

The eyes of all the volleyball players who had gathered for lunch watched you leave the classroom, bouncing on your feet in a state of glee after your interaction with the boy who held your not-so-subtle affections. 

“Are you going to ask her out?” Akaashi paused cleaning up his space, looking over at his teammate without actually turning to face him. He must not have hid his confusion as his friend spoke again, “I mean if you don’t, I might.”

“She’s a handful, that’s for sure.” Someone else said, eyes still watching where you disappeared to. “But damn is she cute.”

“My guy, there’s no hope for any of us.” Another teammate spoke as Akaashi shook his head and returned to prepare for his afternoon lessons. “Did you see her completely blow off Onaga and Anahori? She is simping hard for Akaashi.”

Akaashi did not plan on asking you out, but he couldn’t help the smallest of smug smiles from tugging on the corners of his mouth.

- AUGUST -

With the weather being warm and enjoyable, most students shifted to having their lunch break outside. This included you and your friends who had, to the surprise of no one who knew you, managed to worm your way into eating lunch with some of the volleyball players almost daily. Today was one of those days and as your group picked at their food, you found yourself in a little debate with one of the boys who was a third year along with Akaashi.

“No, I’m telling you,” You held your hands out and pinching your fingers for added emphasis as you leaned across the table in hopes you’d get this boy to agree with your side of the argument. “Eucalyptus and mint is the best smell combination. Why do you think that all spas smell the way they do?”

“We aren’t talking about spas or combinations though, (Y/n).” The boy said, shaking his head. “The argument is what is the best smell and you cannot tell me that anything beats the smell of a brand new book!”

You rolled your eyes and brushed him off with a wave of your hand. You turned in your seat towards Akaashi and grasped at his arm to pull his attention away from whatever he had been doing and onto you. “Help us,” You said, motioning with your free hand towards his teammate. “What is the best smell? A brand new book or eucalyptus mint, like a spa. There is a correct answer and it better be-”

“Neither.” 

You instantly deflated at what Akaashi said, really hoping he’d take your side on this one. But he surprised you further when he continued to speak after his initial declaration. 

“I prefer the smell of baked goods,” he said. He turned back to where his attention had been previously but you couldn’t help the small jolt in your stomach and the tight pulling on your heart. 

You smiled happily as the team of boys surrounded you and grabbed at the box of treats you held out towards them. They each thanked you with their mouths full, crumbs flying from their delighted smiles. 

“(Y/n), I hope you didn’t buy these all just for us.” You looked over at Akaashi as he held the baked good in his hand, staring at you with that intense gaze of his. 

“Well, technically I made them.” You said, setting the box down on a bench once it seemed everyone had a treat, clapping your hands together to rid them of crumbs and toppings. “But these are just leftovers and uglies from the bakery! They’d get thrown out otherwise!”

“Bakery?” Akaashi asked, tilting his head to the side a little and looking down at the food he was holding. 

“Yeah!” You answered with an excited tone. “The one by the red line station? My aunt owns it, I work there most days after school and we live above it.”

Akaashi nodded his head in understanding, deciding to take a bite of the treat now that he knew you’d been the one to make them. He was delightfully surprised to find that it was one of the best things he had tasted in a long time. As he swallowed the bite he had been chewing on he commented on a realization, “It makes sense now why you always smell so nice in the mornings.” 

Coming out of your memory with a giddy smile aimed at Akaashi, you internally felt like you had won the argument even though no one would really know why or how. The presence of Akaashi sitting next to you felt a little more electric and your thoughts started getting cloudy as you wandered into a daydream filled with blue eyes and dark hair. 

You didn’t notice Akaashi’s teammate asking to use his phone to look something up and you also didn't notice when that same teammate pulled up the lock screen and let out a yell of surprise. You did notice, after finally pulling out of your dreaming, the screen to Akaashi’s phone being thrust in your direction. “What is that?” His teammate yelled, referring to the picture on the screen. 

In front of your eyes was the very picture you had once shown him on the train when he asked to see your drawings. It was the two of you, faceless, listening to music on your usual ride to school. Akaashi just stared at his teammate expectantly while your eyes widened significantly as you looked between the phone and him, finally grabbing the device in your own hands and holding it close to your face for inspection. 

“What is that?” The teammate asked again. 

“(Y/n) drew it,” Akaashi responded in his typical flat tone. “I liked it, so I wanted to see it more.”

You could almost feel the sparkles lighting up in your eyes as you whipped your head to look at the boy sitting next to you. Without much thinking your hand had reached out and grasped onto Akaashi’s arm right below his elbow. He looked at you from the corner of his eyes, being very subtle in his smile and his teammate continued to sputter. 

“Ugh!” He stood up, looking down at the two of you with a twisted face and clicking his tongue with obvious disgust. “Just date already!”

TAGS: @svtbitch @hqangel12 @beanst0ck

[itsuki-minamy]

K SIDE: PURPLE 02

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

"Yodomiya" is one of the main entertainment districts of Tokyo.

It is a so-called "Adult City" which is deeper and more crowded than the city of "Jinme", which is called "Youth City". If you leave the main street lined with restaurants and bars, you will end up in the so-called "Niibangai", which is a back alley full of motels, host clubs, special massage shops and sex shops. At first glance, if a customer enters this zone, they can instantly be attracted.

Mishakuji Yukari was born and raised in such a city.

His mother was the master of the bar "Hanawarabe" (Flower Boy) located in the center of "Niibangai". The father is unknown. His mother didn't mention it and Mishakuji didn't ask either. Before doing that, she was a victim of long-standing heart disease and became a person who never came back.

Before entering elementary school, Mishakuji felt lonely for life.

Still, he was not really alone. Because the neighbors of the "Niibangai" were willing to take care of him.

Sayuri is a woman who takes care of Yukari. She originally worked for "Kado", but after Yukari mother's death, she became the master of the store, and is now both a partner and a tutor to Yukari.

It is understood why Yukari's master called "Niibangai", "a place like this". A place where drunken violence, frequent entanglements, and discomfort often do not provide a suitable environment for children to grow up.

Still, Mishakuji liked "Niibangai".

For some reason, he felt that this place where people lived together was beautiful.

++++++++++

"Ah, Mishakuji-chan. Are you going home now?"

They called him on the way to school and Mishakuji stopped.

The popular pub "Kamitsure" is a place frequented by residents of "Niichibangai". The taste is reasonable, but the price is low and, above all, it is open from noon. Most of the customers are standing and drinking at the counter.

However, those who want to drink slowly can use the beer crate around it as a chair or table.

It was those people who called Yukari. Taka-san, Mi-chan and Seiya-san who are also regulars from "Hanawarabe".

The three of them are always fighting, be it because of their different gender, industry or sexual orientation.

"Come, take it. Sit down."

With a refreshing smile, Seiya-san, a male host, was the one who yelled. Usually he wears a fancy suit, but since he takes it off today, the top and bottom is black pullover.

"Should I drink around a cup? I have chopsticks, right?"

Mi-chan, who works for a nearby cabaret club, said in a long voice. This is also a full makeup figure, which is different from regular makeup. However, since it is a familiar appearance to the residents of "Niibangai", there is nothing to analyze now.

"Guys, Mishakuji-chan is underage! Don't make such a strange call!"

Taka-san is a muscular giant who runs a gay bar. He normally wears wigs and dresses, but now he wears a camo tank top and scoop-cut shorts, like soldiers in a movie.

"Wouldn't it be nice if it wasn't real? What do you want to drink?"

As requested by Seiya-san, Yukari sat on a case of beer.

"Well then, an orange juice."

"Master, orange juice."

At Mi-chan's order, the master shoots a suspicious look, "Ah?"

However, the voice "Aiyo!" He returned immediately, wondering if all the points on Yukari's figure reached the mark.

When the orange juice was poured into Yukari's glass, the three men lightly held the cups and shouted happily.

"Cheers!"

"Yes, cheers."

Four glasses collide with each other. They have made this kind of "cheers" several times with "Hanawarabe".

People who give a "cheers" always look happy. Yukari doesn't know what's funny since he doesn't drink, but Yukari doesn't hate him when he sees those people.

Seiya-san says while drinking a gin tonic.

"Mishakuji-chan, you always come back at this time, right?"

Mi-chan says while drinking a mug of beer.

“Are you a high school student? Don't you play in the club activities?"

Taka-san says while drinking a glass of wine.

"Mishakuji-chan, you will be a hero because you are smart and have good motor skills."

Yukari keeps his mouth off the orange juice and responds.

“They invited me to club activities, but I refused. He wasn't particularly interested."

"I don't want to wait. I wish I could come in."

"Yeah, come on in. Then show us what you think is cool."

Mi-chan and Taka-san argued selfishly. Mishakuji hears the words while drinking the orange juice. As a minimal skill of "Niibangai" neighbors, he was aware of the treatment of drunkenness. In other words, don't take the opponent seriously.

Seiya-san, who was stirring the cocktail glass, laughed a little.

"Mishakuji-chan doesn't have to be a jock, does he? There are a reason or two for he, right?"

"Eh? Mishakuji-chan…?"

When he asked him to put it down, Mi-chan grabbed the middle cup. About half of the remaining beer slid down Mi-chan's throat, making a funny, squeaky sound.

He screamed out loud, lying on the middle cup.

"That is to say! I'm drunk! Forgive me!"

"No, it is not up to us to decide."

"I agree with Mi-chan! Guys, I can't match Mishakuji-chan. The moon and the dinner, the clouds and the mud! They are simply discontent with each other because of the unbalanced relationships."

When Taka-san clenched his fist and emphasized, Mi-chan turned around in the empty cup and laughed, "Ha, ha!"

"Yes, as Seiya said."

"Ugh."

Seiya-san bowed as if he had been hit in a painful place. Yukari has seen the expression distorted by pain several times. That is to say…

"Did they shake you again, Seiya-san?"

It was a confirmation, not a question. Saiya-san nodded with power, and Mi-chan smiled and laughed, getting on his shoulders with Seiya-san.

"That's right. With this, five consecutive losses~. Today is the celebration of the loss record."

"I thought I could go this time. That's it."

"After all, it's impossible for women to be together~"

"At first I told you I could go there! I said I liked it regardless of gender!"

Seiya-san suddenly fell on the beer crate that was used as a table. Mishakuji and Taka-san evacuate the drink, and Mi-chan laughs and swings his cup.

"Hahaha, you've changed your mind. Master, beer refill."

"Master! Blood and sand for the next one!"

"Hey, it's unfair. Please give me a can!"

"So, Cassis Orange..."

"Aiyo!"

The master poured the canned cocktail from the refrigerator into the cocktail glass.

Mi-chan stood up as he wandered around, receiving beer and blackcurrant orange and taking his there.

"Look, baby, baby. Yeah, hey!"

"Cheers..."

Seiya-san holds the cocktail glass while lying down, and Mi-chan hits him with a mug. Yukari was looking at the situation in an interesting way.

When, Taka-san speaks to him with pity.

“Sorry, I came out with a drunken complaint. Can you always go home?"

Yukari shook his head slowly.

"No, that's not what I do, I like to see them all like this."

Unexpectedly, Taka-san widens his eyebrows.

"Oh. Is it so funny when we're drunk?"

"No, I'm not drunk."

Yukari drew his gaze into the air. After hesitating for a moment on how to express his thoughts, he muttered.

"I think it's beautiful that you are absorbed in favorite people and things."

After flirting for a moment, Taka-san laughed out loud.

"Hahaha! Beautiful? Us? Weird boy!"

"Is that so?"

It seemed like he had made fun of his true feelings, and Mishakuji looked at Taka-san a bit distractedly. Taka-san pats Yukari's head,

“Sorry, I couldn't help but laugh. Forgive me, Mishakuji-chan."

"Seiya~. Mishakuji-chan, we are beautiful~"

"Thank you, Mishakuji-chan... I'm happy even if it's a lie..."

It wasn't a lie, but he knew they wouldn't understand, so Mishakuji lowered his mouth. An unsatisfied color is evident on the face.

Taka-san looked at him and smiled gently.

Well, apart from us. What is Mishakuji-chan?"

"Something?"

"So, I like that kind of thing, people. Anything is fine, but is it something you can be absorbed in?"

Yukari looked at the orange juice and gently shook his head.

"No, there are none."

Taka-san narrows his eyes.

"Oh, no. Well, there's nothing I can do about it."

"I like that. Youth? I want to be absorbed in that."

"Mi-chan... you are not always absorbed in good..."

"Wow, this is a good place to start!"

"Stop... Don't put it on me..."

Mi-chan put a cup on the head of Seiya-san, who was lying down, and laughed.

After poking it with a fingernail, "Stop it, guys." Taka-san said gently.

Taka-san looked at him and smiled gently.

“Ok, You'll find it later. Mishakuji-chan can do anything. He will surely find something that seems to be "it" someday."

Favourite things. Things that can be absorbed. Beautiful things.

It was only available to Yukari. Everyone, Taka-san, Mi-chan and Seiya-san are following him. He's chasing them. That is why he thinks they are beautiful.

He doesn't have that.

To study, play sports or the opposite sex. He can't even imagine himself less interested and less crazy. Such an empty thought was always attached to Yukari.

Taka-san will find it one day.

Even so, Yukari couldn't really feel that.

[natferdinand]

The question frightened him.

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opposition, the right publicly to preach and propagate their sentiments upon this subject... Down here there was no wind, no snow, no ice, no dead things reaching out to grab you, only dreams and rushlight and the kisses of the ravens. He had to set Alyosha free, to relieve his heart from the burden of sadness that’s weighing on his life, from the duty of loving me. The indictment charges a battery on Lydia, a slave of Elizabeth Jones.... I defy anybody on earth to read our slave-code, as it stands in our law-books, and make anything else of it. The eyes of the three wolves glowed yellow. Viserys lusted for his father’s throne, but he lusted for Daenerys too, and was loath to give her up. She could only biciclete pretpray it was an honest one as well.. I also work at Sam Club and walk about 5 miles a day (no kidding, I worn a pedometer) so that really helps. And now me.. As the new planes start arriving, the Fort Worth, Texas based airline is adding satellite based high speed internet connectivity to its planes from Gogo and Via Sat, a major upgrade from its existing sluggish air to ground cellular network. New rules were introduced for those who have to the will of applying for the license of all kinds of electric cars.. Jake Malone officiating. I mean the loss of the kennel [and]

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the disruption of their lives. There are bodies in the street and people getting paid leave and getting away with murder.". E. May I have the honor of presenting our newest member of the Kingsguard? This is Ser Robert Strong.”. That the religion expressed by the declarations which we have quoted is as truly Antichrist as the religion of the Church of Rome, it is presumed no sensible person out of the sphere of American influences will deny.