#my ass likes to be thorough when it comes to function sorry

[dogpastra]

gee, thanks, Mortimer!

[ak8shi]

FWB HQ Boys: In which you beat the player at his own game!

warnings: Time skip spoilers, mentions of sex(all characters are 18+), alcohol, stupid people in love

a/n: ahh I’m sorry I’ve been a little MIA!!! But I’m back with this pls enjoy ! I think the fandom really make germaphobia his only personality trait sometimes which makes me sad because I think he’s actually a quirky/classy dude and very functional in social situations,, I hate to say it but ya’ll would get played by him… sorry.

━Sakusa Kiyoomi

Some of you may be like ???? Omi fucks around ?? how ?? BUT he definitely does in his own way

He probably doesn’t do much in high school to be honest, he’s mostly focused on improving as a volleyball player and achieving his goals

Once he reaches pro level though,,, it’s a different story lmfao

I can see him being picky as hell about his hookups, but just because he’s a bit of a germaphobe doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel attraction or doesn’t have needs…

….He’s so hot too… girl

His hook-ups are always taken seriously though… like he’s the type that feels like he has a professional image to upkeep, so he always arranges things beforehand; he’s definitely not messy about it and sets clear boundaries

I think what makes him kind of a player is how standoffish he can be…and he doesn’t really give anyone a chance because he doesn’t think they what it takes to deal with his lifestyle lmao

He’s just like, its easier to call the uber right after, get into the shower, and wait until he can hear the front door of his apartment shut I’m screamingg

Sakusa also isn’t one to kiss and tell, even with the boys… he doesn’t think its tasteful and would rather not have Atsumu up his ass about his flings

ANYWAYS,, let’s get into this, so you know Atsumu through mutual friends and met during college, and the two of you just instantly clicked since you also were a part of the same sports medicine program as him

Atsumu signed with MSBY and you were so happy for him, but you were bummed because you were busy with PT graduate school and couldn’t really attend any of his games

A year passed and you found yourself texting Tsumu to see if he could meet up and grab coffee since you were on winter break!!

You: hey I’m back in town wanna grab coffee sometime?

Him: who is this

You: I see you haven’t changed ❤️

LMFAO, so you catch up with Atsumu and he talks about his new career and his teammates, he seems so happy :(( we love to see that!!

He invites you to MSBY’s game the following weekend, and you’re pumped to go!! Tsumu got you great seats, and he meets you before warmups to make sure you’re okay finding your way around

Atsumu: don’t take yer eyes off me <3

You:

He’s so…

You’re enjoying the match and you even go to grab Onigiri from Osamu’s stand, but you can’t seem to look away from number 15 on Atsumu’s team

He’s .., scrumptious to say the least 🥴

Like he’s so composed and calculated on the court, and you find it so funny how he rolls his eyes whenever Tsumu says something to him and how Tsumu gets so heated about it 💀

The match ends and you go down to meet Atsumu near the lockers, showing the security your family/friend pass 😌

You walk through the halls trying to locate the setter, but you can’t seem to figure out where he is

The only person in the hall is the tall, dark haired man that caught your eye earlier; he is already walking towards the exit with a mask covering his face, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder, sweats embroidered with “Sakusa” adorning his body we’re all looking..... respectfully

He’s truly so intimidating but you’re like….highkey lost… so you don’t really have another option

You catch up with him, poking his shoulder gently; he turns around and his attention on you is almost STARTLING.. like his eyes are SO dark

Him: can I help you

You: sir… if you don’t rail me, I’m gonna have to intervene‼️😈😹

After getting over your initial shock, you hear multiple footsteps rumbling down the hallway towards the both of you

Sakusa lets out an annoyed sigh, muttering about how he has to go, but before he can escape you hear Atsumu’s loud voice LMFAO

“OMIIII, where are you goin’? Its team karaoke night remember?”

Tsumu sees you and slings an arm around your shoulders, “Oh-? So I see you’ve met our outside hitter Omi?”

You glance over at Sakusa, his expressionless eyes glued to your face, then slowly trailing down to analyze the way Atsumu casually has you tucked under his arm

Atsumu nudges him, and he grumbles that he’ll meet them after changing at home before walking off in the direction of the private parking garage

You meet the rest of the MSBY boys in the uber, and find them super friendly and welcoming; Bokuto and Hinata buy the first round of drinks at the karaoke bar, but you only have one because you have work to finish the next day WE STAN

Atsumu already has a pink glow setting into his cheeks when you see the boys turn their attention to Sakusa walking through the front door, looking as handsome as ever in his dress pants and fitted white t shirt

They all shout out incoherent hello’s, and he takes the only open seat next to you with a glass of gin and tonic in his hand he smells so good god

You’re unsure what comes over you, but you find yourself turning towards him, and you just start asking him about himself and his career, and surprisingly he’s very polite and much more animated than you previously thought

His voice is like…so alluring and he never looks away from you when you talk, its like he’s absorbing every word

Meanwhile, Atsumu is stumbling over the stage with Bokuto belting Love by Keisha Cole LMFAOO😭

Tsumu kind of ‘warned’ you in the car ride over that Sakusa was a germaphobe, but you know that Atsumu tends to invade people’s personal space sometimes and it probably wasn’t as dramatic as he made it out to be

However, you weren’t expecting the outside hitter to lean over from his seat after checking the time on his phone, whispering in your ear, asking you if you wanted to meet him at his place later than night WHEW

Girl I would be sweating… and you say yes ofc because who’s going to pass up this type of opportunity-

He gives you a charming smile and is like,, okay cool, I’ll see you later then 😊 I’m dead

Ya’ll exchange phone numbers and he’s like if you need any help with my idiot teammates let me know before he takes off

You don’t tell Tsumu about your little… entanglement plans dsnjaknda but honestly he wouldn’t even remember based on the way he’s slumped against you in the uber he owes you big time

You get home after dropping off Tsumu at Osamu’s, and operation dick appointment with the professional volleyball player is put into action 😈

He sends an uber over to get you ladies do not settle for less please, and you’re BIG nervous but in a good way as in you know this dick is about to be bomb af

SO you’re standing in front of his apartment door, and when he opens it, he’s still in the clothes he wore to the bar and its like 1 am he’s so powerful

Um I feel like he would get straight to it honestly, probably starts with a little convo on the couch and then…

YOU WEREN’T AWARE HE WAS SO DIRTY,,, it was SO good too like after getting home that night you’re going through a crisis… like you had so much chemistry together for having just met, and you wonder if he feels the same way🥺

You caught yourself in sleepless states some nights, kept awake by the thoughts of the way his hands felt against your skin, the way his five o’clock shadow gently rubbed against your face when you kissed, and how he would hold you(only after a thorough shower together of course)

As it happens more and more, he lets you into his life little by little, and you notice and remember small facts about him and he often remembers a lot of the things you tell him about you, its really enjoyable for both of you

Its weirdly domestic to a point but that’s why its so good for both of you???it adds a bit of spice ??

Sakusa: can you come over tonight

You: sorry the retainer is in already <3 no dick sucking for me tonight <3

Him: I bought pastries from that cafe you like

You: say less✈️ I’m coming💃

AND he HAS jokes okay, like he’s funny as hell and very witty when his true self comes out; but he’s also a HUGE tease and he’ll say something completely straight-faced that someone else might take offense to like “you look ugly,” but you just know he’s kidding from being around him long enough and from seeing the little glint in his dark eyes

It becomes a routine thing while you’re home honestly, and you try your best to hide it from Atsumu because you just KNOW you would never hear the end of it; for all he knows, you met him that one time at the bar and that was that

Everything is going smoothly until you slip up at one of their games

You were sitting in the waiting area with the team (mostly talking to Atsumu), when he just says something that makes your short circuit

Atsumu: what kind of animal do ya think omi would be? An octopus maybe?

You: yeah I mean with those flexible wrists it makes sense

Atsumu: what the fawk🤠

He’s like… how do you even know about his flexible wrists IT TOOK ME 6 MONTHS TO GET TO THAT STAGE WITH HIM-

Oops, lmfao so you kind of tell him about everything and he’s literally shocked for you, mostly because he doesn’t want you to get hurt :(

Atsumu: So I see he’s just sleeping with ANYONE anyone

LMAO noo he definitely thinks you’re too good for him and he kind of lectures you, telling you that he had a hunch that he messes around with girls like that, but also you’re an adult and you can take care of yourself, and it isn’t like it’s a serious thing!!

Meanwhile, Omi is like going through a bit of a crisis all alone because everything around him reminds him of you or something you said when you were together

He got with people who were compatible sexually often, but he never had the urge to have them stay over after the deed; he usually immediately called them an uber and wouldn’t speak to them again

He found himself thinking about seeing you in the stands at his games, wishing you were there to cheer for him only, and he adored the way you respected his boundaries unlike many of his hookups

Atsumu probably notices something is off with him at practice

Atsumu: hey…if ya ever want to talk about somethin’-

Sakusa: no

Girl… he doesn’t disclose any of this to anyone

Its nearing the end of your break, and you head over to sakusa’s for probably the last time before you go back to school

You’re kind of at the point where you don’t think anything will happen and you know you shouldn’t get your hopes up, and it goes how it usually goes? Except he kind of hugs you goodbye and your heart goes: 🦋🦋🦋

You go back to school, occasionally texting Tsumu about your graduate program, and before you know it, like 5 months pass by and you’re back for summer!

Tsumu texts you and is like… sorry but I’m forcing you to be my plus-one tonight for this dinner thing I have to go to

So you dress up and he comes to pick you up, and you’re really not sure why you were surprised to see Kiyoomi sitting at the table when you arrive you give Atsumu a nice smack on the back of the head for not warning you

You sit down at the table after greeting everyone, trying your best to not act awkward when you shoot sakusa a small smile that he returns politely (but you don’t see it because of his mask)

Atsumu sits weirdly close to you the entire dinner with his arm around the back of your chair, and he’s just acting strange in general??? Like he’s bragging about your degree program and about your accomplishments, you just know he’s trying something funny; but you don’t really say anything because you don’t want to disrespect him in front of the team’s staff as a guest

You almost choke on your wine and you catch on when Bokuto starts making comments after Atsumu says something,

Atsumu: …so yeah, pretty much she should be our next president in my humble opinion

Bokuto: 🙈WOAH. WHAT?😍 HOW COULD SHE GET ANY BETTER⁉️🙄 OR HOTTER⁉️💪🏼💋

You, sitting there: 🧍‍♀️

He’s so bad at acting I’m crying..,, it becomes so obvious that they’re trying to make Kiyoomi jealous

(the boys plotted beforehand, trying to get Omi to ask you out officially; after you left, he literally would never shut up about you whenever Atsumu mentioned you, and it was just obvious he was in his feels when it came to you)

Atsumu: she’s studying at a café tonight for finals

Sakusa: Yeah so I’m glad you brought it up, because I’ve been thinking about it for days. Fine I guess I’ll say it. Her favorite coffee blend is French roast and she only likes a dash of sugar with a lot of cream, but it has to be hazelnut creamer or else she doesn’t like any-

Everyone in the gym: 🗿

LMAO ANYWAYS ITS LOWKEY WORKING you look over at him and his face is like stone.. girl..

The dinner is almost over and Atsumu gets up to go to the restroom with a wink I hate him, and you get up to catch a breath of fresh air outside

You sit on a bench for a minute, calming yourself down after the eventful dinner, but then you see the door to the restaurant swing open, Sakusa looking around the corner before spotting you

Your heart pounds in your chest as he walks over and asks if he can join you, inspecting the bench before sitting down, pulling his mask down as well

He eases into a conversation by just asking you how you’re doing, basic stuff, but then in the middle of you going off on a tangent about your stupid professor, he stops you

“I missed you.”

He crosses his legs, not looking at you as he takes your hand, intertwines it with his, and places it in his lap

You gaze at him, taken back at his confession, noticing the slight pinkness tinging his pale cheeks

You say you missed him too, and then he’s asking you if you would like to go on an actual date with him

You: wait are you asking me out officially?

Him: Yes. No I’m not. Yes I am❤️

SKSLD Please he’s awkward help him a little, you agree and then you hear a tap on the window behind you, you turn around to see Tsumu, Bokuto and Adriah behind you with big grins on their faces LMFAO 🤡

Kiyoomi rolls his eyes, but you don’t miss the small upturn of the corners of his lips as he hears Bokuto happily scream through the glass

[javierpinme]

Part One: New Beginnings

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: Infidelity, angst, friends to lovers, mentions of alcohol

Rating: M (might change)

Summary:  You’ve lived in a small town for half of your life and nothings really changed until it did. Moving halfway across the country you find lasting friendships and a love you needed at the exactly the right time.

A/N: There is not a ton of Frankie in this one since I wanted to set the tone for the reader before they meet! They don’t see/meet each other until near the end (or do they?) I wanted to build the reader’s relationships with the people in her life as there will more parts.

AO3

Masterlist

Want to be on my taglist?

It’s hard to build friendships as an adult without being under the pretense of school or college. It’s especially difficult when you decide to move across the country. Away from your family and friends, but it’s what you needed. Seeing the same four walls you lived in, that same greasy diner that was always your go-to after one too many tequila shots the night before, and that one ex from high school that you’d really rather forget while running errands were making you feel complacent. Wake up. Drink. Eat. Work. Sleep. Repeat. You’ve spent most of your life here. You weren’t about to spend the rest of it here. So, you did something completely unlike you. You packed up your life and moved. The house was beautiful. You’d never owned anything in your life; just rented so this is a major upgrade for you. The first sight that greets you is the stairs after living in a first floor unit for most of your life. The house isn’t in perfect shape, but it’s yours which is all that matters.

The movers have left so you finally had the place to yourself. You couldn’t help the defeated sigh that fell from your mouth at the sight of all the boxes. If your sister and friends were here you’d probably be knee deep in pizza and wine while attempting to build furniture. You gave your brain the space to let that thought sink in, but you craved the freedom so you didn’t let that sit too long. You came here to build your own memories; no room for regrets now. So, the first thing you decide to acclimate yourself with is the closest liquor store and that is how you met Hannah.

The first thing you hear after getting lost reading a wine label is a loud oof before slamming into somebody. You only barely managed to catch the bottle before it became one with the outdated tile.

“I am SO sorry! I’m not even going to lie to you I was not watching where I was going. Are you okay? You didn’t drop anything did you?”

You manage to form a sentence between your scrambled apologies in between. The first thing you notice when you look at the face standing in front of you is how pretty she is. That typical blonde hair and blue eyes type that reminds you of the girls you went to high school with. You wince. Stop it.

“Oh, I’m okay! It was more the residual shock of it really. You must really need that bottle because you were just about ready to run me over in your pursuit to the cash register. Cheating ex or bad date?”

She says with a laugh while pointing at the wine still in your hand. Oh, she’s nice. You immediately feel guilty for that initial judgment when first looking at her.

“Oh, neither. I just moved here and need sustenance to unpack. Who knew you could fit your entire life into boxes?” You mirror her laugh.

“I figured I’d kill two birds with one stone. Walk around the neighborhood and find the necessities which is how I ended up here.” You say with a twirl in your finger.

"Ah, the one down the street that's just begging to be demolished?" She says while snapping her fingers with a mischievous smile.

"Hey, don't talk about her like that. She's old, but she's got character." You can't help the lopsided grin you give her. She hasn't even seen the dream kitchen with those beautiful green cabinets.

“Hey, well if you need help with that-“ her eyes shifting to the bottle, “I live right down the street so I can come over. I know moving somewhere unfamiliar can be a little daunting especially if you’re alone.” You can’t help the wide smile forming at her sweet gesture.

“And to help me unpack right?” You raise an eyebrow.

“I mean I’m better at draining a bottle, but if it’s necessary I will work for food and drinks. But, if I’m going to help you we are going to need way more than that.”

She finishes her sentence grabbing more bottles while traveling through the aisles. The sound of you’ve got to try this one and this one’s local in between aisle changes filling the store. You assure her that she is not off the hook with helping even with the promise of the “best merlot you’ve ever had in your life.”

Bags filling both of your hands and way too much alcohol for just two people to consume you make your way up the steps. Hannah pauses and looks up at the house.

“I was right. It should have been demolished. Will the porch cave in before I make it inside?” She says with skepticism at the foundation of your new home.

“Probably eventually but-“ you turn around to face her, “she’ll last for now. Come on, I haven’t even showed you the best part!”

You open your door and make your way inside leaving the door open for her to follow. You faintly hear from the kitchen “I seriously doubt that”, and you can’t help your chuckle at the remark.

You’ve always wanted a fixer upper; probably from all the HGTV shows you immersed yourself in as a child and the fact you’ve only ever lived in apartments. The first and only thing you managed to unpack first was your wine glasses. You definitely made a point to label them in big writing while packing up back home. A decision you are patting yourself on the back for now.

“So, do you like pizza? I know a good place. Pizza and wine should always be paired with move-in days. Oh, you’re right. This is probably the only good part of your house.”

Hannah leaned on the counter next you before shifting to test the weight taking in the scene of your kitchen.

“Love pizza. It’s not there yet, but I definitely have some plans with it; starting with keeping the color of those cabinets.”

In between sips of your glasses of wine you start to collaborate over your ideas of making it functional and aesthetically pleasing.

It didn’t take very long to start building friendships with the people in your area. You even started joining Sunday brunches and you were overly ecstatic finding out that bottomless mimosas existed. They didn’t have these at the diners back home. They even started assisting you with choosing paint swatches and going to Home Depot because you just had try that DIY project of making your own lounge chair that you found scrolling on Youtube.

“I think your measurements are a little off.”

Alex, probably one of your favorites of the group, mirrors the tilt of your head with his arms crossed. He co-owns a woodworking business with his husband so you wanted him there for any adjustments and moral support. Unfortunately for you, he wanted you to learn first which really meant fail.

You grimace at your handiwork and say, “yeah, I think maybe I should stick with what I’m good at.”

With a breathy laugh he adds, “give yourself some credit. You managed to tear up the carpet in the living room AND still able to keep the original hardwood. That’s no easy feat.”

You’ve somehow managed to create a whole support system in the little time that you’ve spent here. You’ve finally had the time and resources to create your own little touches that make your house now a home.

“Hannah, can’t we just stay in tonight? I’ve already been defeated twice by the light fixture in the living and my fingers are still tingling from the faulty power box. I’m really not in the mood.”

You give her the biggest puppy eyes you can manage while exaggeratingly lifting you fingers.

“Oh no, you’re going out to the bar tonight. You’ve been here for months and you really need to get yourself out there. You’re hot. Own it. Besides, it’s just you and me so there’s no pressure.”

She says with a swat to your ass and a push towards your closet. The only response you can add to that is Hmph.

The bar is nice enough with the dim lighting and it’s not so loud that you can’t hear yourself talk. Hannah insisted you wear one of your nicer dresses, but you wanted to feel like yourself so you opted for a t-shirt tucked into light wash jeans. If you were going to meet anyone tonight you wanted to set the standard for anything that could happen at the start. You’re still nursing your second beer while Hannah is on her third shot of the night. You feel a presence to your right and a sharp pinch to your thigh on your left. Hannah is of course attempting to alert you to the attractive man on the other side of you as if you didn’t notice. You turn around with a pained look on your face to her which she just shrugs off before making herself scarce.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

Your attention is brought back to the man to your right. He is very cute in a boyish kind of way and you briefly wonder if he’s talking to someone else. He’s dressed like he just got out of a business meeting, but his rolled sleeves are definitely doing something for you.

“Sure. What’s your name?” You say with the flirtiest smile you can muster.

“Joey. Nice to meet you.”

God, his smile must do wonders for his conquests. It’s working for you quite honestly. You completely lose track of time talking to him and see out of the corner of your eye Hannah leaving the bar holding onto a man with salt and pepper hair and scruff. Looks like she got lucky too. She gives you a wink as she walks out the door and you look to see where he was sitting in case you need to remember faces. Seems like he was out with some of his friends, but you didn’t get a thorough look because your attention is immediately brought back to Joey. You set a reminder for yourself to check in with her before you go to bed tonight.

It’s been a constant date after date and you were really beginning to develop feelings for him. Sure, you always tried to convince him you didn’t need to be wooed with all these extravagant dates. You were just happy to spend time with him. You didn’t need to go to a fancy restaurant to tell you that. It just wasn’t your style, but it made him happy so you went along with it. You had initially assumed him to be a one night stand, but you were pleasantly surprised to hear from him the next day asking to take you out dinner.

Your muscles in your stomach are straining from how hard you’re laughing at America’s Funniest Home Videos on the TV. Joey is sitting next to you on the couch with takeout cartons loitered all over your coffee table. The living room is starting to lose its natural lighting due to the day coming to a close; the only light source in the room being the lamp sitting on the end table next to the couch and the glow from the TV. You notice Joey looking at you with a far off look.

“What’s wrong?” You ask with a furrow in your brow. “Nothing.” His face shifting to a more pleasant tone once he turns back to the TV. The two of you had settled into a routine at your house. You had even introduced him to your friends and they really seemed to enjoy spending time with him. It was easy for them to fall for his charms as you did.

“Come on, hurry up. You’re supposed to be helping me pick out an outfit for tonight!”

Hannah still continued to see the man from the bar, Santi, his friends called him.

“If I’m supposed to be helping you pick an outfit then why are we in the lingerie section?” You ask with a sly grin on your face.

“That’s for after, of course. Gotta keep it interesting.”

Her laugh followed by her adding some bras and panties to her hands. You agreed to come with her tonight to officially meet him and his friends. You’ve heard enough about him from her. Some very intimate details as well. They weren’t exactly exclusive to each other and as far as you knew they were dating other people which you respected. You were nervous about meeting them, but you knew it was only a matter of time until Hannah would want to do this. You trusted her judgment and you were already comfortable that it was going to be in the bar you usually ventured out to.

In her words, “your only forms of entertainment can’t just be your home projects, Joey and me, you know? You deserve to have fun too and these guys will show you a good time I promise” while ringing up her purchases.

You barely manage to make it through the door of the bar before you feel a breeze next to you from her speeding to Santi with a kiss. You lovingly shake your head at her dramatic antics and make your way over to the table. It’s a little awkward at first since Hannah still had yet to let go of the man sitting next to her and you didn’t know how to start a conversation with these men with what was going on next to you.

“Sorry. I’m Santi, but everyone calls me Pope.”

He reaches over to shake your hand with a tone that is definitely not apologetic at all, but you find it amusing. You like him already. You can definitely see why Hannah was interested, but not your type.

He starts introducing his friends off to you. Will. He seems like the more mellow type of the group and his call sign is Ironhead. Benny is just Benny since he’s the baby of the group.

“He’s the menace of all of us so watch out for this one.” Will ruffles his brother’s hair for added measure which Benny recoils from.

Then, Frankie, they call him Catfish. Oh he’s handsome, but not in the boyish way that Joey is. He’s handsome in a more ruggish kind of way and you can’t seem to break eye contact from him. Your eyes don’t know where to go first so they travel from his deep brown eyes, to the bare patches on the beard he can’t seem to grow that you find yourself wanting to kiss, and to the curls peeking out of his standard heating oil hat. You find yourself itching to take that hat off and run your fingers through the nape of his hair.  Stop. He’s the more reserved one in the group which makes sense since he really hasn’t fully spoken more than a few words at a time to you. You can’t control the side glances you keep shooting at him throughout the night. You’re just appreciating the view and maybe conjuring up a few very much domestic fantasies in your head. Liar.

You excuse yourself to go to the bathroom to get a grip on your emotions. Tilting your head at your reflection you point an accusing finger “get yourself together. You ca—.“  You jump at the intrusion of an elderly woman walking into the otherwise empty bathroom; a quizzical look forming on her face from your actions. Your nervous laugh gets the best of you. “It isn’t what it- I don’t always do this.” You’re not sure why you feel the need to explain yourself since she’s already closed the stall before you even got the chance to finish your sentence. You find yourself even more flustered leaving the bathroom than before going into it. This is going to be a long night.

***

Frankie was nervous when Santi first told him that Hannah would be bringing a friend. He remembers you from the night Santi first left with her. How could he forget? You had his attention the moment you stepped into the bar, but by the time he finally worked up the nerve to talk to you another guy had already swooped in. It wasn’t that surprising considering and it was probably for the best. He really wasn’t in any headspace to be in a relationship. His eyes followed you when you left to go to the bathroom in a hurry and he could just feel Santi’s eyes burning into him. He knew. You were exactly his type and he hoped to whoever was up above that he would just leave him to his hopeless crush without interfering.

***

You sit down at the table preparing to come up with some segway into the conversation between everyone when Santi breaks it with a loud clap calling your name out. “So, are you seeing anyone?”

You miss the glare that Frankie shoots him and the embarrassed groan he makes. You don’t miss the warning tone Will gives when calling Santi’s name out, but you get the feeling you’re not entitled to know what that’s about.

“Yes, I am.” Why does it feel so wrong to say that? “His name is Joey.” Hannah chimes in while rubbing Santi’s shoulders.

You also miss the sight of Frankie’s shoulders deflating at that piece of information. Your answer seems to satisfy Santi since he drops it after that and moves on to a different topic. “Benny, when’s your next fight?” It’s Friday apparently and all the guys along with Hannah are going to support him.

Will shifts towards you and says, “you can come if you want.” You cringe on the inside; your insecurities getting the best of you. If you want. They’re only inviting you because you’re there at the moment. “Maybe.” You won’t.

Somehow, Hannah has convinced you to go out with them a second time. “Come on, you can bring Joey since you’re so nervous! Please bring him,” she says with pleading eyes.

“I’m not nervous!” Liar. There is a sliver of truth to her statement, but you don’t want to tell her the reason for your nerves is seeing Frankie again. Yet here you were sitting in a booth with Joey across from Hannah and the rest of the guys.

“Jesus Hannah, he’s not going anywhere.”

You say with a loud laugh at her not so subtle PDA with Santi. “Sorry.” She said with a swipe of trying to remove her lipstick from Santi’s face; her smile never leaving her face. Frankie hasn’t looked at you at all tonight and you can’t help but wonder what you did wrong. You see those eyes crinkle and that cute dimple when he’s dedicating his attention to everyone else at the table, but disappears when his eyes go in your general direction.

At some point the guys and Hannah walk off to buy more drinks leaving you with Joey. He’s hasn’t hid his disinterest of the night at all even when the guys were trying to include him.

“Why are you so grumpy?” “I’m not.” His deep sigh a dead giveaway to his sour mood. “I’m just not vibing with them that’s all.” His eyes following the guys by single file line as he said it. You assure him that you can leave soon which after an hour or so you do.

Tonight’s events must have tired you out more than you thought because you’re fighting yawns the entire ride to Joey’s apartment. You don’t usually spend time here since he prefers staying at your place, but his place was a lot closer to the bar. The minute you walk inside you walk straight to his bedroom so you can promptly pass out as Joey showers. As you start to pull back the blankets something catches your eye. That’s not mine. Your heart rate is starting to speed up at the thought that’s forming in your mind. You reach down and grab a bra that was haphazardly thrown on the floor. The thing is you’d recognize that bra anywhere because you were there when she bought it; the day you were meeting Santi for the first time. You almost didn’t hear the water being shut off in the bathroom and the footsteps coming into the bedroom.

“Hey, what’s goin o—“

His eyes follow where you’re looking and then back up to your face. He’s not even trying to defend himself or come up with some shitty excuse that wouldn’t work anyway.

“How long?” Your voice is barely managing to stay steady while still staring at the incriminating evidence of your betrayal.

“How long, Joey?” His hesitation gives you your answer. It’s been a while.

[thiswasinevitableid]

Hii uhhh this is for mermay, but it's not one of the fills so please feel free to ignore this if it doesn't catch your interest!!

Idea;; within a mostly-canon setting, Duck is turned into a merperson (probably while they're trying to deal with one of the abominations, but that part's flexible) and has to deal with it while still trying to like,, function. He gets a magic disguise, but hijinks ensue.

Here you go! I attached this to "Summer rain" and another mermay prompt. It's SFW

The last time he went flying through the air and into the water while fighting an abomination, he almost died. So he’s none too pleased when he surfaces from being chucked in Lake Brahe.

“What the fuck Indrid?!”

“I’m so sorry” Mothman flaps above him, both sets of hands tapping together anxiously, “I promise this is for the best but I’ll admit the exact process might have been overkill.”

“You fuckin’ think??” Duck kicks towards shore, grabbing his hat as it tries to float away, “the others are still back there with that thing. And I fuckin hate bein’ chucked into things without warnin.”

“I don’t think there are people who do enjoy such things.” Indrid alights on the shore Duck is swimming towards.

“Well then don’t fuckin do them.”

“It is for your own good, Duck Newton.”

“Yeah, heard that one before.” He hits shallow water, wades to shore trying to shake his hat dry, “now c’mon, fly me back so we can-”

His legs crumple, sending him face first into the lake. Crawling is no good, his whole body contorting and shaking, his throat and lungs burning. He claws at the pebbles and sand, coming away with fistfuls, grabbing for something, anything, to pull him from the water, as if reaching shore will free him from the pain wracking his body.

The world is coming in photo negative now, flashes of color that don’t make sense, the crack of his bones filling his ears. He might he crying, the pain is too deep to tell what else he’s feeling or doing.

“Help” he rasps into the night air.

Human hands cup his face, guide his aching head down across bony legs, “It will not last much longer.”

“Am” he gasps, feels the Sylph turn their bodies for some unknown purpose, breathing easier after he does, “am I gonna die.”

“No. And before you ask, your powers would not have done much for you if you still had them.”

“Fuck” he whimpers.

“Agreed.” Indrid strokes his hair, “five more seconds. Four, three, two, one.”

Duck passes out before Indrid can say anything else. He’s roused by the footfalls of combat boots and wingtips down the beach.

“Duck, Indrid-OH HOLY SHIT!”

“He’s not-”

“No, Ned, he is very much alive. Had I not moved him when I did, he would have suffocated before you could get him to any water.”

“Thank god.” Ned must be by his head.

“Aubrey, can, can you, it hurts-”

“Ummmmm” His friend sounds like she’s trying to come up with a comforting explanation, “which part of your tail hurts?”

Duck sits bolt upright, then falls back into Indrid’s arms, staring at the deep green and silver tail where his legs should be.

“Well….fuck.”

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

“How are you doing?” Indrid, red glasses glinting and pink and yellow sweater hanging off his tall frame, perches on a rock.

“Great. I’m a regular, breakable dipshit who turned into a fuckin merman without warnin, I had to have Barclay call work and tell ‘em I got a flu so they won’t fire me for disppearin, anything my friends bring me to eat gets soggy, and I ain’t seen my cat in three days.”

“So...not good then?”

Duck raises an eyebrow. Indrid smiles, not his usual confident, casual one. He looks unsure, which is in and of itself kind of unnerving.

“No, Indrid. Not good at all.”

“Ah. Apologies, I sometimes have trouble parsing certain tones.”

Duck swims closer, “Sorry.”

“It’s quite alright. You have every reason to be angry and upset. Even with me.”

“Pretty sure you didn’t curse me.”

“No. But had I moved faster, gotten to you all sooner, you would not have been in it’s path at all.”

It’s so matter of fact. The same way Indrid talks about anything troubling.

“Certainly my most newsworthy failure”

“Had you not arrived at the cottonwood, it would have been rather bad for me.”

“Oh, don’t worry about the eye. It hurt, but I have felt far worse.”

“And I have yet more bad news; while I can make a charm that will allow you to be in your human form for up to six hours at a time, the properties of that abomination mean eventually you’ll have to return to water.”

There’s a flicker in the smile, so swift Duck wonders if it’s only because his eyes are no longer human, slit pupiled instead of round, that he sees it at all. Or if it’s because this is the first time they haven’t been surrounded by heat, noise, or danger.

“Indrid, you know I don’t blame you, right?”

“Of course, Duck. I was merely being thorough in my apology.” Now it’s his normal, wide smile, but too tight across his teeth.

“He was before my time.” Vincent grins as he sets the DVDs on a well-dusted shelf, “though if Woodbridge is anything like he is now, I doubt they got along. The other ministers say he was...determined when he left. Like he could conquer any challenge earth presented during his quest."

Indrid’s glasses slip down his nose and he pushes them up before Duck gets even a glance at his eyes, “Now, where did I put that pin…” He pats his pockets, freezes when Duck manages to set a hand on his shin.

“Indrid, I mean it. Didn’t blame you then, don’t blame you now. Hell, from the sound of it you saved my ass, big time. So, uh, what I’m tryin to say is thanks. For lookin out for me.”

He squeezes in what he hopes is a friendly fashion. Indrid chirps, once, face losing all trace of eeriness. Then he schools it back to normal.

“You’re welcome. Punching aside, I’m quite fond of you. I’m going to use this for your charm, if that’s alright.” A souvenir pin from the Monongahela's tenth anniversary sits between slender fingers.

“Holy shit, I been lookin for that for ages. I, uh, I try to-”

“Collect them, yes. I saw that in a conversation between you and Juno. I was going to give this to you anyway, goodness knows it took awhile to find it in the trailer, but now it can serve a greater purpose.” With that, he pulls a folded piece of paper from his pocket. Duck’s image unfolds before them, Indrid smoothing it out and setting it on the rock as he begins working. Duck watches with interest, notices the process is much slower than it was when Indrid disguised Billy.

“Am I harder to get right than Ryan Gosling?”

“Yes. Well, not technically, no, but with Billy I just needed him to look human. I need you to look like, well, you. Such a fine specimen requires the utmost care.”

Duck’s about to toss back his usual line he gives to guys who compliment him, then realizes flirting with the Mothman might be weird, or that Indrid may not have meant it as anything more than some clinical, Sylph observation of humans. He tries to distract himself by swimming, but his tail still won’t do what he wants much of the time.

“You’ll have greater success on your back.” Indrid says without looking up.

He’s right, and Duck manages to swim without difficulty, tail shimmering in the sunset. The one time he glances at his friend, Indrid is staring at swaying and rippling in the water.

When the Sylph finally calls that he’s done, Duck speeds to the rock, let’s Indrid pin the charm to the collar of his undershirt that he keeps wearing because he’s still a human, dammit, just one with an inconvenient tail and he’s not gonna start skinny-dipping in a national forest. Again.

Duck flails when legs replace his tail, Indrid’s hand grabbing his a moment before he needs it to and helping him onto dry land.

“Satisfactory?”

“It’s fuckin perfect!”

“Wonderful!” Indrid claps his hands together, “what would you like to do? I may need to escort you for the first day, to be certain there’s no flaw in the charm.”

Duck studies the pink light tracing the angles of Indrid’s face, “Wanna meet my cat? She looks like a bobcat that lost a bar fight, but she’s sweet as can be.”

Indrid’s grin turns genuine for the first time all day, “I would like nothing better.”

The mothman becomes a staple of his life after that. With the charm, he’s able to help the Pine Guard track and slay the abomination, go to work, look after his house, and generally convince anyone not in the know that he’s totally fine. But he has to return to the lake every day, spends his mornings and nights there, even his lunch breaks when he knows he needs to give the charm a break then. It’s far enough away that he’s in no danger of being seen by civilians, but at least once Indrid had to fly him to it before they ran out of time (and Aubrey had to teleport them there, which made him nauseous).

Indrid keeps him company, sometimes with the others and sometimes on his own. He finds waterproof cards and games, listens to Duck talk about work and tells him about his travels. At first he worries Indrid is only doing it out of guilt, but as the weeks go by he comes to see that Indrid likes him. He laughs at his jokes, gives him as close to his full attention as he can, even scratches his scales with his mothed-out claws when they start driving Duck crazy with itchiness.

His friend always goes home to sleep, which is why, as Duck is drifting on his back, half snoozing and half star-gazing, the red eyes high in a tree come as a surprise. He’s on the other end of the lake, doesn’t seem to see Duck as he spreads his wings and flaps into the air. Then he nosedives, pulling up before he hits the water and then skimming across it in broad strokes. He shoots upward, spins, and then repeats the routine.

Duck’s seen him fly during fights and to escape the Cottonwood. Never like this, never so free and graceful. It’s such a joyful sight, makes Duck wish he had wings of his own so he could join him, dance across the stars and their reflections.

He swims towards Indrid, begins mirroring him on a whim, twisting, diving, and leaping as best he can in time with the cryptids flight. Pushes his tail to carry him faster, farther, all for the sake of keeping pace with the beautiful monster in the sky.

Surfacing after a particularly giant splash, a voice lilts down from the sky.

“Race you to the other side.”

Duck loses, but only just, cackles when Indrid buzzes him so closely he can feel the tickle of his feathers. When the mothman finally lands Duck swims to him, scooting up on land so he can watch Indrid fluff and clean his feathers.

“I come to this lake to practice flying without fear of being seen. I assumed you were asleep but, ah” his antenna twitch, “I’m glad you weren’t.”

Duck stretches, moans happily when Indrid gently glides his claws up his tail, “Me too.”

“Same time tomorrow night?” Soft hope flutters between them.

“Yeah.” He grins up at the cryptid, “bring your A-game, I’m gonna carb load tomorrow mornin so I can kick your butt.”

“I look forward to it.”

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

It’s been a month and a half since he transformed, which puts them smack in summer thunderstorm season. Duck’s used to it, though he’s more than a little nervous about what will happen if lightning hits the lake. Luckily, tonight it’s just soft summer rain instead of electricity and drops the size of robin eggs.

Indrid isn’t faring as well. The rain droops his antenna, compresses his fluff until Duck can see he’s still a twig under all those feathers. He shivers, chirrs in discomfort and shakes off his wings, but stays put on his favorite rock.

“There a reason you ain’t just turnin human? Could put on a raincoat that way.”

“I” Indrid sneezes, “I want you to feel comfortable. It can be so unpleasant, feeling like the only non-human in a place.”

Duck swims to the rock, flicking his tail up and down as he float, “You’re always changin form to make me comfortable.”

“Yes. Because I want you to not be unnerved by me.”

“But what about what you want?”

A feathery shrug, “That doesn’t matter.”

“Drid-”

Red eyes glare at him, “I am well aware of how I look, Duck. What people think of me. Would you have spent even a fraction of the time you have with me if your transformation had not forced it?”

“Y-fu-uh-I mean not no?” He sinks into the water as resignation becomes visible on Indrid’s inhuman features.

“I’m glad for our friendship, Duck. And I don’t doubt that you’re fond of me now. But please don’t pretend I was your first choice for company.”

“I mean...you weren’t. But that’s because we barely knew each other, hell, you only got back to town three months ago.” Duck takes the hand nearest him, “if this happened to me now? You might be the first person I’d want lookin out for me.”

Indrid chirrs, dips his head down to rub his cheek against Duck’s hand. Suddenly he wants nothing as badly as he wants to get Indrid warm and dry so he can run his fingers through every inch of those feathers.

“May I turn human?’

“Of course. Means you can come swimmin with me.”

Indrid, now in a tank top and yoga pants, cocks his head, “Why?”

“It’ll be fun?”

“My kind are not the strongest of swimmers.”

“Good thing I got a tail and gills, then. Besides, you’ll stop feelin as sticky from the humidity if you’re in the water.”

Indrid pulls off his shirt and pants, revealing duck-patterned boxers, and cautiously wades into the lake.

“Ooohhhh, that is so much better” his sighs, too blissed-out to notice the sudden drop, and only just manages to grab his glasses before going under. Duck zips forward, hoisting him easily into an embrace as he splutters.

“Blechhh, I despise the taste of lake water.” He clings to Duck, skinny legs teasingly tense around his tail.

Duck rubs his tail up and down his inner legs soothingly, “you, uh, want somethin to get rid of the taste?”

“Please.” Indrid smirks, clearly expecting a goof. When Duck tips his glasses up his forehead, he goes stone still.

“Can I kiss you?”

“This was not in any of the timelines.”

“Just came to me now. And that ain’t an answer.”

Indrid nods, tips his face forward to bring their lips together. Duck sighs, floats lazily backwards as Indrid slips his tongue between his lips. When they part, there are more stars in his eyes than in the whole milky way.

“Do you want some good news?” Indrid nuzzles his neck with an adorable trill.

“Lay it on me.”

“The futures just shifted; Aubrey and Janelle will have a cure for your condition tomorrow.”

“Hell yeah.” Duck flips them upright, Indrid “eeping” and holding tighter, “can’t wait to stop worryin’ about whether I’m gonna start suffocatin on land. And, uh” he nips Indrid’s lower lip, forgetting about his sharpened teeth until the Sylph lets out a little moan, “if you ain’t busy tomorrow night, like to take you on a date.”

Indrid beams, “I’d like that so very much. Though I will admit, I’m going to miss how this looks on you.” He squeezes his thighs around Duck’s tail.

“You can always whip me up one if we wanna, uh, relive the fun parts of this experience.”

“True. And with that in mind, my sweet; how do you feel about wings?”

[presszl]

Hi! As someone who deals with lifelong chronic GI (gastro intestinal issues) and ive got some little tips for your trouble! (If you want, feel free to ignore if you want.)

1. Of course if you can, look into a doctor that specializes in gastro issues, bc a professional opinion is the best thing you can get. They may also point you in the direction of some over the counter meds that can really be life changing! Don't be afraid to get into detail, ya gotta say whats up.

2. Try to look for probiotic products, they'll help with digestion health!

3. Perhaps do get allergy testing, bc depending on your symptoms you might be allergic to something that you commonly consume.

4. Keep track of what you eat, if you have the attention span keep a record of what you eat and how it makes you feel after. This is how i figured out I'm sensitive to dairy, greasy foods, tomatoes and a handful of other odd specifics!

5. (This is a bit gross srry) but if your troubles lie especially in the in the lower intestines levels and functions, make sure you pay attention to the productions, and log that along with what you ate prior. If you have like, a Lot Of Blood, its not normal and you should get a doc's attention about what to do, for it could mean a lot and not a whole lot good. (As u can see im sidestepping a lot of words um. Again sorry. I know u dont want some anon talking abt the scary/ickyness bits)

6. For some reason i find bread sometimes agitates on bad days (other fam members can recite why but i can never remember why) so if you find yourself making a lot of sandwiches, maybe just roll the ham n cheese or whatev up in a little tube and consume it that way! Or do the bread for lettuce swap but ive heard a lot of recalls so maybe not-

7. If you want a more natural reliever for stomach issues, Ginger is your bestie. Tea, candies, get a product you can tolerate and keep it handy. If there is a ginger candy id reccomend, it would be Gin-Gin's, but specifically the hard candy kind. The flavor is somewhat strong but it's easy to get used to when your bod gets to know it helps (or u can just. Cronch) ginger is the main one i remember currently but research into what can alleviate naturally is worth it, cuz sometimes it's all you need on a decently troubled day!

8. Things like tums can also help, worse comes to worse take some ibuprofen with it too. Pain is best not endured is the motto.

Anyways, that's the advice i have! I hope it helps, pretty please take care and reach out to those that can support you! You deserve to lead as painless of an existence as possible. Gn! - 🦓

marry me right now 💍

YES omg so i am doing some of these things (seeing a GI again, taking ginger frequently (550 mg pills once a day)) but i know i need to get my ass in gear & start logging what i eat & stuff (a little late to do it ten days before my appointment but anything works i guess?)

i did not know that about bread or probiotic stuff and i've been curious about allergy testing for a little while now. i suspect red sauce might be troublesome?? but that's just because that's what i was told is troublesome so. idk LMAO. spicy food is obviously a no go, i will never eat spicy things again unfortunately

all in all your message is very appreciated!!! i have never gotten a thorough bullet list of tips like this before & tbh coming from an actual person it is more helpful than just rereading medical websites over & over and not knowing what's true or what's not u know. i am proposing right now

[dashielldeveron]

Viper VIII: Inter Vivos

*author slaps bumper sticker across ass that reads I BREAK FOR QUARANTINE* 

Summary: You have a thought that only Steve Urkel and black-out drunks can have: did I do that?

Warnings: swears, the law. Murder/death. Stupid internet comments.

Show (3719) Comments on “There is Nothing New Under the Sun, But You Are New in Your Conglomeration.”

skellingtonbabey: thanks for putting all of the *gestures vaguely* into historical context. no one’s ever bothered to explain this shit to me, especially in such simple and thorough language. it’s like every other resource i try to learn from is stylistically designed to make me more confused.

readyplayer69: Just because it’s from the 60s and is racist doesn’t mean that it doesn’t have intrinsic value based on the goal towards which it was working. You’re a fucking lunatic. I have a degree in political science, so I know what the fuck I’m about. Though some of the protests may have excluded the minorities you’re talking about, it doesn’t mean that they weren’t ultimately working towards good fucking policies for everyone involved. It’s not like they were doing anything important then anyway; white people had to be the mouthpiece for…Read More

volcanolesbian: bro have u seen the incels freaking out over this???? it got linked in their cursed forum and they SO BADLY wanted u 2 hate women now. like you can regress from being a feminist once you’ve woken up. they’re giving u shit bc you called out the racist terrorists who were active in their community lmao. i can post screenshots if u want. But bruv it’s like they haven’t read anything you’ve written before lol

mozARTsexandviolins: I get when you say that ingenuity spawns ideals for the greater good, but don’t you think tradition has its place? How do we know if the new can spawn the greater good? How do we judge ourselves? Who watches the watchers?

simpleplan2eatthedirt: cool cool nice nice.  protesting is awesome, but be sure to get out there to fucking VOTE, people!!! Here’s a link to register to vote.

EaterJohn: Hello. It is nice to hear from you again, Epiales. Always a treat. Very insightful commentary on modern and past protests. I didn’t know about all of the revolutions in Europe 1848. I’ve send this to my co, and it’s already sparked a good conversation about who we are as a protesting people as we stand in history. Again, sorry to bother you, but I was wondering when the next article in your “Aeneid Autopsies: Current Crimes Reflected in Ancient Times” series was going to be released? It’s my…Read More

horneyvulcanbasterd: @mozARTsexandviolins Is that a Star Trek reference? Bc if so the answer’s Starfleet Command lol

MrsKatsukiBakagou: epiales. you have watered my crops and harvested my fields. thank you for the food.

mightiestavengereatmyass: eat shit and die, commie scum. your just a hired propagandaist for the fucking alt-left, aren’t you? You have no right to be running your collum in a real newspaper or on this fucking website. sending u anthrax in the mail would be too cool a death for you. I hope your so-called terrorist groupsfind out where you live and fucking murder you in the middle of the night. fukcs like you are the reason the country is going to shit the police have a total constitutional right int aht jurisdiction to enter. They had a no knock…Read More

fuckyouit’sjanuary: @readyplayer69 [image attached] [image description: blonde woman with caption reading, “I can tolerate racism, but I draw the line at looting the local target]

saltnpepa!!diner707: Hi. I’m trying to cite this piece in an essay, but your publisher isn’t listed on your website. Would you suggest using the NYT as the source in my bib? If it helps, this is due new week; idk if this will run in the NYT by then. Thanks

“I’m sending someone on a grocery run this morning,” said Tom, thumbs tapping away on his phone, “Do you need anything? Want anything?”

You glanced up from your laptop, closing it as much as you could without the light dimming. “I think I’m good, unless you used the last of the shredded cheese at some point.”

“Shredded…cheese,” he said under his breath, typing, “You mentioned capri-suns the other day.”

“Yeah, but I can tolerate the nasty, new flavour. No rush. Here’s a wild idea,” you said, and you waited until he looked up from his phone, a couple of ungelled curls falling over his forehead. “What if—now, don’t dismiss me as crazy; hear me out—what if we went to the store ourselves?”

“Again, no.” Tom grasping his coffee by the round of the mug, despite there being a perfectly functional handle. “Stop pressing me for it.”

“I’m not asking to go to a damn Broadway play. I’m asking to go to the closest 7-11,” you said, jiggling your leg and then making a conscious decision to stop fidgeting, instead scooting your chair closer under the table so that the arms slid underneath.

Tom hummed, his eyes not leaving his phone screen, but when you didn’t continue, he raised an eyebrow as he scowled at you. “Broadway is shut down because of the bomb threat.”

“Fuck off; you know what I meant.”

“Viper,” said Tom, and he locked his phone to set it on his napkin. “Do you want to get assassinated?”

“The term assassination implies I’m getting murdered for political reasons instead of the copious other crimes you’ve had me commit. So, I invite it.” Put your hands on the table where he can see them; it makes you seem more trustworthy. “Does 7-11 have an open carry policy?”

“If it’s any consolation, the renovated office should be waiting for you when you return.”

“It’s not.” You lifted your mug to your lips. “Working from here only makes me feel like a damn bureaucrat. Like I have no stake in the matter. I don’t want to become detached from everything; I might make a callous decision and send people where they can’t come back.”

“Keep watching yourself. If you stay on guard,” said Tom, running his middle finger around the rim of his mug, “then you won’t stray from me.”

“I’m useless here.”

“Then maybe you should become accustomed to the idea of being useless.”

Swallowing, you stared down into your tea. “There’s only so much I can get done through answering emails. Not to mention I hate answering emails. That’s how you get more emails.”

“Harrison has been telling me that your schematics have been more thorough since you’ve been holed up in here.” Tom tipped his mug all the way back to get the last of his coffee. “You’re still being just as productive, if not more methodical.”

“Did you mean obsessive? I have—I’ve had too much time to think. I’d rather not be alone with my thoughts, if I can help it.”

***

You could only read so much before losing your mind. You could only deal with so many of the same exact problems over and over again for lower level soldiers. You could only chart so many stars. You could only read so much fanfiction (if your identity thief were tracking your phone, he’d probably be baffled as to why you kept reading fic for fandoms you weren’t even a part of due to the desire for new ideas).

You could only give Glory Pham so many excuses as to why you’re not with her in person at the Museum of Natural History.

Sucking in through your teeth, you hovered your fingers above the keyboard.

Dear Ms. Pham,

Glad to hear John Mulaney’s signed on. Next step would be to ensure de Blasio doesn’t directly interact with him, given their history. Perhaps I should proof his set beforehand?

Unfortunately, I regret to inform you that I cannot attend the briefing in person yet again. I am currently indisposed, seeing as I am currently in hiding at my hot boss’s house, due to how dead I might be should I leave it (thus the basis of its appeal). Not to mention that if you criticise my blazer choices again, I shall peel the skin off your perfectly made-up face. Get fucked; getting your eyeliner tattooed on was a hell of a decision.

You shook your head, backspaced the last few lines, and stretched towards the wicker end table to grab your glass of pink lemonade, and you stole a glance at Tom’s work as you did so. A couple of files spread across his white wicker lounger (two blue files [socials of the family], two green [recent bids], a yellow [Manhattan locations], and a brown [requests from politicians, upper East side]). The pink sticky-notes had your and his written exchanges and edits on certain papers, and his laptop was open, the screen dimmed, while he copied something into a notebook with his cell phone held between his shoulder and his ear, just listening to the computerised voice.

He had joined you on the back porch to work remotely, claiming he couldn’t go into the city today due to the absence of news on Zendaya—if any information arose, he’d said he wanted your diagnosis immediately.

You wiped your forehead with your sleeve as a sweat drop slinked behind Tom’s ear. Even Tessa wouldn’t run in the heat; she’d curled up by the porch railing, her tail slapping against her water bowl. In an experiment to see if she wanted to spend some time outside, you’d slid the glass door open for Trout, to which she turned around to retreat to the bedroom.

Not all of the clothes you’d ordered had arrived yet, so you were stuck wearing autumnal clothes with long sleeves. To exacerbate matters, you were constantly moving—jiggling your leg, tapping your fingers—you couldn’t sit still for very long anymore; you had taken to pacing the porch when you couldn’t concentrate on the stars.

(Once, Tom had come out at night to check on you, wiping the sleep out of his eyes and sitting in silence with you. He’d made you go to bed after a while, claiming you’d run yourself into the ground if you kept this restlessness up.)

When your phone beeped, the both of you jolted at the sound. Tom hung up on the robotic voice as you scrambled to your phone, and he bent your way. “Is it Zendaya?”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you shook your head. “No. Looks like it’s a jailbreak.”

Tom sighed, his shoulders heaving as he eased back in his seat. “Where from?”

“I don’t even care,” you said, letting your phone fall to your lap. You slumped back in your chair, shielding your eyes from the sun with your arm. But you straightened yourself again and checked. “From Central. They don’t even know who’s all escaped yet.”

“It’d be too much of a gift if New York City would fucking relax for five minutes.”

“It seems like it’s in more uproar than usual lately,” you said, sipping through the reusable straw of your pink lemonade. “Do you suppose it’s our fault?”

Tom took a moment to pluck his damp t-shirt away from his chest. “I don’t think we’re instigating. If anything, we’re simply reacting to chaos.” He stood up and stretched, raising his arms above his head—his biceps strained at the sleeves, and the hem rose above his v-lines. “Unless you’re doing something I don’t know about.”

Ah, casual suspicion. “You’ve caught me,” you said as he approached Tessa and crouched next to her, “I’ve been running a koi smuggling gig on the side.”

“Why koi?” He held out his hand for Tessa to sniff, and she readily accepted his hand for pats. “Are they hard to get?”

“I don’t know,” you said, shrugging, “but I’ve been wondering if they’d be able to survive in your grist mill pond. You look through that water straight to the bottom, nothing living in your way. Just rocks and old equipment.”

Tom sat against the porch railing with a jittery Tessa partially in his lap. “Should we get some?”

“Oh, fuck off, Tom,” you said, grinning, a sweat drop falling onto your mousepad as you shook your head, “You can’t entertain every little pipedream I have.”

“Watch me. What do you want for Christmas?”

You ducked your head, biting your lip. “Promise me something.”

“Provided it’s not my head on a stake, I will,” he said, scratching Tessa behind her ears and cringing a bit when she stretched to lick his face.

“Then we’re going in person to the pre-opening fundraising gala for the Gawain Diamond.”

Tom narrowed his eyes. “Viper.”

“Bitch, I got John Mulaney to sign on to do the opening monologue, and he’s probably gonna roast de Blasio again. I’m not missing that.”

Your phone blared an alert again, and both of you held your breath as you unlocked it.

“Got a list of prisoners who escaped. Small group. Delores, Larson, Duncan, Mays, Selvin,” you said, “There’s more, but I don’t know them. Tell us something important, by God. Anyway, we’re going. I didn’t say I was going alone, did I? You’ll be there. I’ll be safe, and you’ll be safe.”

His jaw shifting to the side, Tom stilled his hand on Tessa’s back, and then he lifted it to flick sweat off his neck. “How many of us maximum can you get in?”

“It’s a fundraiser for idiotic rich people; if there are too many people without a name, they’ll be noticed.”

“It can’t be just us.”

“Why? Afraid you can’t protect me on your own?”

“Now, don’t start that.” Tom herded Tessa off his lap and onto her outside bed. “I’m not falling for it.”

“Yes, yes, I’m fully aware you’re capable of ripping me in half,” you said, draining your pink lemonade, the airy suction coming through your straw (almost loud enough that you couldn’t hear Tom’s sputtering over it—almost—and his phone beeping). “Want me to get that?”

“Bring it here,” he said, and you snatched it while he sat on the railing, dangling his legs off the side.

“It’s,” you said, eyebrows shooting to your hairline as you read the little notification, “It’s a tweet from Zendaya.” You tossed it to him to unlock and leant on the railing next to him, arm grazing his thigh with a heightened awareness of how close you were to his sweaty, sweaty abdomen. No! No time to thirst. Friend time.

Tom unlocked his phone and held it at your eye level, turning it horizontally as he pulled up the tweet.

ZENDAYA (@ZendayaMedias): Felt cute. Might delete later.

[video]

Tom pulled up the clip, waiting for it to load. “Why didn’t she post it to instagram, then?”

“The finer details of social media are an enigma. Do I look like I know,” you said, and his thumb hovered over the play button.

He cranked the volume up before pressing play, having to try twice due to how slippery his fingers were. “I wonder if Haz has seen this yet.”

A vertical shot of a murky, grey sky from the bow of a boat and dark ocean as far as the camera can see. It pans across the starboard side, and this boat is the only one in sight.

Only the sound of waves striking the boat.

The camera tilts down. Zendaya’s writhing on the deck, furiously straining against rope bonds that line up the entirety of her arms and up her calves; she’s yelling furiously at the person behind the camera through duct tape.

Scuffed, black boots roll Z to the starboard gunwale. She’s still fighting, still shouting.

The camera trucks to the right; before, the pair of cinderblocks attached to her feet were concealed. It returns to her face. A glove grabs part of her hair to show the weights tied into it. She bucks up to headbutt the camera; he avoids it.

Tom clenched his free hand on his thigh. “We’re running another scan for that black-stubble bell jackass from her instagram; did we have any fucking leads at all? What’s his fucking motivation? So he slept with her, allegedly; did she say no to a second time? Doesn’t fucking merit—”

The boot kicks the cinderblocks off the boat, and the camera tilts down to follow the trail of bubbles.

It’s quiet.

But then the camera pans to portside, where the guy in the picture with Zendaya is similarly tied up, but he’s openly weeping and shaking his head. He’s got something drawn on his forehead in black marker. The cameraman steps closer to focus on it: it’s a circle with an upward curve resting on top of it.

He’s still wearing the bell necklace.

Then the cameraman backs away and raises a gloved hand, in which a gun is aimed at the other’s forehead.

The bullet goes through the circle, and the bell rattles as he’s kicked off. Fewer bubbles.

Then the camera tilts up to show off the boat’s surroundings: a black and barren ocean, as far as the eye can see.

When the video started to loop, Tom switched his screen off, his phone hanging loosely in his grip. You released of his thigh once you noticed you’d grabbed onto him, and the evidence of your touch faded as the fabric relaxed.

His eyes glossed over at the blank screen, and his mouth opened before closing again, running his tongue over his lower lip. Tom brought a fist to his mouth and furrowed his brow, his hand hardly concealing the growing tremble of his jaw.

You took a step away from him, rubbing your arms as you ducked your head. “I’m going back inside,” you said, hoping Trout felt like being clutched to your chest, “I’m cold.”

***

The next morning, your mouth felt heavy and dry. You sneaked out as the sun was rising to go hide in the woods surrounding Tom’s house, but you talked yourself out of it. He would make too much of a fuss if he couldn’t find you—but you could delay the inevitable conversation even further. Both of you had separated and kept to yourselves the rest of the evening. Kept quiet.

So you rounded the outside of the house. You’re not camping out in a fucking copse. When you reached the pond, you scanned it for a dry place to hide, but nothing really held any appeal, save for the rounded platform where the mill wheel used to spin, its spoke notches overflowing with moss. You managed to get to it after scrambling alongside the stones for a few minutes, and though it didn’t look like you could get down the same way, you settled against the wall, scraping some moss out of the notches so that your feet could rest more comfortably in them.

(Dr. Prine called ten minutes after you sent her the email. “Did you send me the correct article?”

“Yeah,” you said, rubbing your face wash onto your cheeks, “Considering it’s the only one I have ready, and I can’t bring myself to write anything. I tried. I just fucking can’t.”

“I don’t think you want this published at this point in your life.”

“I don’t fucking care. Whoever’s using my pen name probably knows who the fuck I am in general. Just publish it.”

“Honey,” said Dr. Prine, her voice softening (and fumbling, like she was holding the phone to her ear with her shoulder), “You should probably rethink this. It’s going to connect Epiales you back to Viper you. Get some sleep; eat breakfast. Call me back then.”

“It’s an appropriate article for the political climate.”

“Not for your personal life.”

“I don’t fucking care,” you said between splashing water on your face, “I don’t. It’s a good fucking article, and hopefully, it can affect people for the upcoming election. Fuck self-preservation. Send it to the Times already.”

“Did I dial the wrong number?”

“Hilarious, Dr. Prine. I know it’s not the smartest thing for me to do, but I can’t—absolutely can’t—write anything. I don’t know for how long, but for now, at least.” You blotted your face dry. “I’ve got to meet standard deadlines if I’m keeping my column. It’s really only dangerous if Tom reads it and makes the connection, and his brain is offline right now.”

And so Aeneid Autopsies: Current Crimes Reflected in Ancient Times, chapter twelve, “The Political Tradition as Mob Rule,” would be published on Saturday. It’s a little too in the know about the mafia, but hey, you had written it on a whim a month ago, and you were known for your extensive research, anyway. It most likely shouldn’t be too different from your other exposés, though they weren’t on topics that were deliberately misleading the public by what information was out there.

The more you thought about it, it was almost like you wanted to reveal yourself, wanted to get stabbed while you were sleeping, because there’s an overwhelming question rolling around in your brain like a mis-weighted shooter marble: is this—)

“It’s not your fault.”

With crossed arms, Tom leant against the stone wall, his leg bent back for his bare foot to rest flat against it. He glanced sideways at you, sitting on your mill wheel perch almost halfway across the pond, but closer to the far side than to him.

He’s got major bedhead, his curls just fucking flopping about out of his part, and even from where you are, his face burned red amidst wet tracks trailing down it. Still, thank God for little mercies—his biceps were fucking straining the sleeves of his white t-shirt, and those idiotic, blessed grey sweatpants were low on his hips.

You lifted your head from your knees but still clutched them to your chest. “You’re not going out, then?”

“Of course not,” Tom said, and he wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “Can’t be crying during a meeting, yeah?”

“Been boxing?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you get any sleep last night?”

“Not really.”

He ran his tongue over his lower lip and sighed, and then he slid his hands into his pockets, his eyes glossing over while he watched the moss you’d picked off float in the pond.

You’re not going to fucking cry. Tom came out here for a reason. He has a purpose. All you have to do is wait.

Eventually, he said, “You’re avoiding what I said.”

You tilted your head.

“Listen, I know you’re beating yourself up about it. It’s not your fault this happened. None of this is your fault. Hey.” Tom tapped the wall, the travelling reverberations making you look up at him. “Whoever’s doing this is doing it of their own volition and not because of you. You hold no culpability for this.”

“Bruh,” you said, “One of your best friends is dead, and you’re comforting me? I thought I was the masochist.”

Tom scowled, his brow furrowing. “Viper—”

“I can’t interact with someone without putting them in danger, at a disturbingly high rate. You want me to enumerate where I’ve stuck my nose in not my business and people have gotten killed? Senator Hernandez, Isadora,” you began, holding up two fingers, “The nine men guarding Isadora, Maccabruno, Polson—”

“Don’t you dare do that to yourself.” Tom took a step forward, his foot almost curving into the pond. “You didn’t use the knife. You didn’t pull any triggers.”

“Yeah, but I sent them there. And a good many of them went because it was their job.” You sneered and propped your chin on your knees again.

“And it’s part of your job—”

“Yeah, whatever. Your friend is dead, and I have no home. I’ve stopped contacting the few people in my circle on the chance that they get dragged into this—Grace, Adrien—he’s the lights specialist guy, in case you don’t remember—I’ve got to email Glory, but that can’t be helped. And Dr. Prine only—fuck,” you said, dragging your hands down your face. “I don’t want anything to fucking happen to Dr. Prine. Or your family, for that matter.”

“Everyone not involved in the business is currently in hiding upstate,” said Tom, eyes narrowed as he glared at you. “If you like, I can ensure the same—”

“Stop acting so damn calm, Tom.” You let your legs dangle off the platform, hands clenching the edges. “I don’t have any strings left to pull. And fucking hell, I know that it would be extremely and absurdly conceited of me to believe that this series of crimes is aimed specifically at me, because how deluded, how arrogant could I get—but goddammit, this stuff feels a little too personalised. It feels like this person knows me.”

Tom clicked his tongue. “Don’t you think it’s worth something that Glory Pham has been left alone? He knows how to get into Crosscreek, yet Glory hasn’t been touched. Is that not worthwhile?”

Your eyes watered, but you ducked your head so that he couldn’t see—but you released a dry sob (Fuck! Now is not the time for crying! Now is the time for being badass! Frown, or something!).

Tom spoke so quietly you almost didn’t catch it. “Do you want to leave?”

God, no. But it would make you feel like less of a burden. “Let me find an apartment first.”

“No, not like that. Hey, V. Look at me,” he said, and he tapped on the wall again.

You wouldn’t. Not like this. Not when your nose was running and when you didn’t have a plan.

“Please look at me, Viper.”

Glowering, you raised your head, lifting your chin higher than normal to seem confident, and oh, God—his eyes were wide and gentle; he’s leaning as far as he can over the pond, still unable to reach you.

“What I meant was if you wanted to leave the mob.”

It rang through your head like a distant cathedral bell, chiming through a deserted town—but then you were farther, out on the mountains, still listening to faint clanging.

“You’d have to kill me,” you said, shaking your head, “Don’t you remember?”

“Fuck,” Tom was saying, sucking in through his teeth, and after glancing at the water, he started jogging around the pond.

“I swore. I bled. And then even after that—then you knighted me.” You inhaled sharply when he reached the stones you’d climbed. “I’ve let you down.”

“Viper, get the fuck down from there and come here,” he said, and he withdrew, winching, when he stepped on a sharp edge.

“We shouldn’t have met,” you said, looking over your shoulder at him, and Tom froze, his hand partially gripping a hole in the stone wall. “I shouldn’t have taken the job. I should have gone to a different city. I should have—”

“Wasted your life away in the shadows? Just shut up and get down here.”

“Ah! The fuck?” You swatted his hand away when it grazed the platform, and when he climbed up another step, you pushed yourself off the platform and into the pond.

The first thing that struck you was how quiet everything was once the bubbles dissipated, and then you noticed how clear the water was, even from within it—glancing down, you could easily see your feet treading water above the broken grist mill wheels that had sunken to the bottom.

Before you could take it in to feel the emptiness in your chest, bubbles filled your vision again—and then his hands were grappling for you, grasping at your clothes, and pulling you towards the surface.

“I wasn’t fucking drowning,” you said, sliding a hand back through your hair, while Tom shook his head to flick off excess water. “I was fine without—”

“I know you weren’t.” Tom gripped your waist tightly enough to be painful, and he slid his other hand up between your shoulder blades. “I know. You wouldn’t die on me, and I’m not letting anyone else lay their hands on you. C’mon, arms around.”

He guided your arms around his waist, and once you had a good grip (hands sliding up his back), he kicked off to swim to the stone wall, backing you into it. Your toes skimmed the bottom of the pond, but Tom kept your head above the water, his thumbs circling your hipbones through your wet clothes.

Tom closed his eyes, his eyelashes heavy with water droplets. “There’s no solution to this where you die, got it?”

“Shucks.”

“I mean it. Talk to me. Tell me what you can.” Tom let out a breath slowly, and he bent to rest his forehead on your shoulder. “Please,” he said once you tensed up, his breath hot through your wet shirt, “Won’t you let me in?”

(Fuck fuck fuck fuck his chest is flush against yours; he’s so warm, so damn warm all over, and the water’s chill only makes you want to cling to him more, fuck.)

“You won’t like me,” you said, tentatively lifting a hand to curl your fingers into his hair, pulling slightly, “I’m not whom I’ve presented to you. I don’t have it under control.”

“I don’t expect you to.” Tom turned his head towards you; his lips almost grazed your neck (you relish their warmth anyway). “You wouldn’t be human, otherwise.”

“I don’t know an awful lot. Some days it seems like all I do is guesswork.” You grimaced but kept the slim distance from Tom’s mouth. If he wanted to, he would. “I’m lost completely on whoever the fake Epiales is. I keep looking for a pattern in everything, even—even so far back as to—”

You stuttered. Tom had pressed his lips to the base of your neck.

“There’s no consistency,” he said, nuzzling his nose against the spot where your neck met shoulder, “but there’s got to be a larger plan. I get it. The whole case is like a hydra, and we’re chopping blindly at the heads.”

(Oh, my God, he kissed you? He kiss the neck? He?)

“Oh! I forgot to tell you.” Tom pulled away to look you in the eye, and your mouth hung open of its own accord—come back! “I made myself watch the video again.” His jaw shifted. “To see if I missed anything, and I did. This time, I recognised the symbol on the guy’s forehead.” Tom lightly traced it onto your forehead with his middle finger. “It’s a zodiac symbol. It’s the one for Taurus.”

You nodded, still not really thinking at full capacity. “Great. Another piece of evidence that I won’t be able to make fucking sense of. Goddammit. I’m so useless. Goddammit,” you said, dropping your hand from his hair into the water with a splash. “Tom, I don’t talk to my mother much anymore. She doesn’t know where or who I am, and to be honest, I don’t know who I am, either. I don’t know where the truth is.”

You nearly slapped him when you cupped his cheek, like you were desperate, like you had to be touching him, skin on skin, that instant. It’d be nice if he would close his eyes and lean into your touch, maybe kiss your palm, but Tom simply stared at you in shock, eyes wide, brows raised, mouth pinched.

Don’t tell him, you whore. You built this fucking kingdom with its walls and bastions so that you would be safe when the outer defences crumbled. You’ve set aside parts of yourself into neat little boxes so that you can throw any of them away at any time and escaped unscathed. Don’t you fucking dare screw that up. Tom doesn’t know about Epiales so that you can expose and destroy him if you’re on his chopping block; it’s insurance for when everything falls.

Bitch, since when do you want to be honest and raw and vulnerable around anyone?

You can’t let him in.

“You’re still a woman of honour,” Tom said, and—oh, God, oh, fuck—he’s easing his hands down your body, his chest pressed against yours again, and he’s sliding them down your thighs to hook underneath your knees, and he’s hitched you up against the wall, the definition of his muscles real and palpable through the wet clothes, warm, warm, warm—

“I should apologise,” you said, turning your head to the side while he steered your legs around his waist, “I can’t imagine what you must be feeling right now.”

“You can’t?” Tom shifted you upwards, and that’s it; your heat is directly against him; you can feel every pull and tensing of his tendons, and if he keeps moving the way he is, then you’ll—

“I’m so sorry for making this about me when Z was closer to you. We shouldn’t waste time on me; we need to be searching, arranging a funeral if we can’t find anything.” You scrunched your eyes shut.

“You’re deflecting.” Tom let out a shuddery sigh. “I’ve lost too many people. Don’t make me lose you when you’re right in front of me,” he said, and he pressed his lips right below your ear.

You flinched away on impulse but tried to relax into him, blinking profusely.

Tom pushed against you (not localised enough to qualify as a thrust), and he cleared his throat before pulling away from your neck. “Listen, please. Please.” He shifted your weight to one hand and gripped your chin with his freed one. His eyes flickered to your mouth before he moved to rest his hand on your cheek. “You’re invaluable. Irreplaceable. You are no burden and are not at fault.” He clenched his jaw. “But I know you’re keeping something from me, and I will make the answer fall from your lips soon.”

Your own chin was shaking, and he was too close. If you put aside separate-self-as-insurance for a moment, let’s consider Tom did find out about Epiales. Would he control you through it? Would he use you to influence those he couldn’t reach? Would he grab hold of Dr. Prine? He might squeeze your life and time through his fist, and your freedom would be gone. Epiales was your freedom, your space to create and connect.

He was too close.

“You’ve got to promise not to hate me,” you said, and when he raised an eyebrow, you made your decision to lean in.

“No,” he said, and—and your lips met his cheek.

He’d turned his head.

After all that, he’s going to turn his head?

“No,” he said again, taking your chin again and leading you away, back to leaning against the stone wall, “I don’t want our first kiss connected to the memory of mourning. I can wait a bit longer.”

Tom released your legs, letting them sink. “You once told me that if you let yourself be vulnerable, you didn’t want an audience. I think,” he said, frowning, “I think you still see me as an outsider. As a member of that audience. And again, you said that you didn’t want it if it weren’t real.” He stepped away from you entirely, and he started wading towards the edge of the pond. “I’m going to hold you to the same standard. I’ll wait until you’re ready to be real with me.”

Tom slinked out of the pond, flicking away what excess water he could, and he squinted into the sun on the horizon. He shook his head, water flying, and he glanced back at you and scoffed. “Easy, sweetheart. No need to wear your heart on your sleeve now.”

His voice trailed off as he rounded the corner towards the door.

The sun is rising, and you feel rather cold.

***

inter vivos: between the living

***

taglist: @hollandroos @madmadmilk @parkerroos @parsleysbaby @z-ukos @pparkerwrites @lunamyangel @stealth-spiderr @presidentbttrflyfreak @paradoxparker @bi-writes @astronomyparkers @infamous-webhead @laurfangirl424 @softspideys @gryffinpuffs @plethoraofpuppies @laucontrerasv @shootingstarsaretearsofheaven @spiderboytotherescue @cassiopeiaskies

[ak47stylegirl]

Wellcome to Honia: Chapter 4

Okay, here’s the fourth chapter in my Royal Au. Sorry that it took so long 😅I really hope you guys enjoy this! 😁 through warning, you may need tissues for a particular bit of the chapter... anyway, read on 😄

Bodyguard 2.0  

Kayo pov.

Honia was a beautiful country, it was her home even though she wasn't born there, she thought as she watched John make a speech at a function on behalf of the king. The poor guy was really out of his comfort zone...

She and her father had moved to the country in seek of refuge, their home country becoming unlivable following the global conflict. She was about seven when the war happened, it was the worst time of her life.

Her world was falling apart bit by bit. She lost her mother to the conflict, one moment she was there, all warmth and motherly love and then she was gone, her world freezing over, not to be thawed until years later.

At first, she hated that they had to move. She didn't want to lose anything else, even if her home country was nearly unliveable.

She didn't want to leave the place she called home, even if it wasn't much of a home anymore. But she would later be thankful because moving to honia gave her a new chance at life, a chance to heal. 

Not a lot of people got that. 

The first couple of years after they fled their home country wasn't easy, they didn't have a lot of money, her father had to work two jobs at the same time to make enough money to pay the rent, the little bit of leftover money going into feeding them…

it was a tough time, but at least the threat of death wasn't hanging over them like it was back in their home country.

Then everything changed unexpectedly in one night…

And all because one brown hair, blue-eyed teenager wanted to be a rebel and sneak out of the palace for a night on the town with his friends… 

Her father was walking home from his work late at night, having worked overtime to get a bit more money for food when he noticed a teenage boy being cornered at knifepoint in an alleyway. One thing you need to know about her father, he was an expert in martial arts.

The thug didn't stand a chance… 

You can imagine her father's surprise to learn that the young man that he had just rescued was not only royalty but the eldest son of the king. Her father stayed with the prince until a palace car picked the teenager up...

And more surprises kept coming, only days later did they receive a personal letter from the king. Thanking her father for saving his son (who she would imagine was very much grounded by that point) and offering her father a job as a juicer Royal guard, which was better pay then her father could ever imagine getting at his other jobs.

She and her father moved into a small apartment on the palace grounds meant for the guards and their families. As the years passed her father slowly got promoted up the scale until he was head of security and the king's personal bodyguard. 

Which was a great honour to her father, who considered the king a good friend.

She wasn't around a lot during this time, her father having decided to send her to boarding school to give her the best education she could get now that he could afford it. She didn't mind it, but she didn't particularly like it either.

She spent her school holidays at the palace, where she was able to meet and become good friends with the princes, who became like brothers to her. 

Scott, while not at the palace very often because of his training at the Air Force, took on a big brother role with her, making sure to chat with her while he was home and just being friendly and kind to her. 

He also spent a lot of his time while at home with his girlfriend (who would later be his wife), who was also really kind to her as well...

There was actually one time when she was about thirteen when she had accidentally found them kissing (and maybe getting close to something more than kissing) behind a hedge.

Scott made her swear not to tell anybody... 

John also took on a similar role of big brother with being a couple years older than her. Through he was a lot quieter and secluded then his brothers, so it took him a bit longer to warm up to her. But once he did, he was always there for her. 

He gave her his personal number, so she could call him while she was at school if she had any homework trouble. She really enjoyed those calls, though they had to be voice calls only because of security reasons.

Virgil took to her immediately becoming fast friends with her. It probably helped that they were about the same age, Virgil only being a year younger than her. 

Virgil tried to teach her to play the piano once, it didn't go very well…It sounded like someone was strangling a cat...

Gordon was a lot younger than her, so she didn't see him as often as his brothers. Though that didn't stop him from pulling a prank on her, which he shortly realised was a terrible idea and never did it again.

It seemed like she was the one this time around to take on the older sibling role, becoming a sort of big sister to Gordon, and she was not afraid to strike back when needed. Gordon wasn't the only one that could pull a prank.

You're probably wondering what about Alan? Well, Alan wasn't born at the time, it wouldn't be until she was a full-grown adult and one of the Royal guards that Alan was born and yes, he was an adorable baby…

But the day Alan was born...it was one that would haunt her for the rest of her life... Alan wasn't supposed to be born that day, if only she had noticed the threat…

The country wasn't supposed to lose two queens that day… their current queen and their future queen, Scott's wife, who was pregnant with Scott's heir…

The royal family wasn't supposed to lose three members that day...two much-beloved royals and a stillborn baby...

The Royal family was never the same after that, the king was never the same...the boys she considered her brothers were forever changed, Scott especially…

The palace was shrouded in mourning and grief for months...The royal family withdrew from public life, not appearing in public for months…

And in the centre of it all was a nursery and a small premature baby...a baby that all the doctors believe wouldn't make it to six months old and at times, it seemed like they were right...

The following years were hard, Alan was constantly in and out of the hospital, constantly unwell, just when he had gotten over one illness, he would catch another…

There were lots of nights where the whole palace was woken to a critically ill Alan being rushed to the hospital...

Alan had an immune disorder, which meant that his immune system didn't work properly…Which made him a perfect target for germs and illnesses, who attacked Alan's small body unrelentingly, which struggled to cope…

It didn't help that Alan also had asthma…Severe asthma to be exact, worsened by the fact that Alan's lungs were weaker and smaller than they should be...

All Because Alan was born early...Far too early… 

It all could have been avoided, Alan could have been born when he was supposed too, and he would not have those health issues…At least not all of them...

if only they knew, they wouldn't have lost so many lives that day, if only they had known, if only she had known about the threat…

Her own uncle...her flesh and blood...how could he...

If only she had been a bit more cautious, if only she did her job better… but it was too late now, they could only move forward…she could only move forward…

But it was hard, knowing that her uncle was still out there...Who knew when he'll strike again? He could be lurking in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

At least Alan has been doing better this past year or two. Other than an occasional scare here and there, Alan has been doing a lot better.

But she wouldn't say he was a perfectly healthy child, even though she really wanted too… the kid was far from healthy, even though he seemed like a normal healthy kid at times, there was a lot underneath that…

Alan had a whole list of medication he had to take every day, and she has been told by Alan that some of them were pretty nasty tasting. The kid couldn't take tablets, so most of his medication was a syrup-like liquid or a capsule that could be broken and mixed in with something like honey or yogurt to make it easier for him to swallow...

And mask the taste a bit, she would imagine…

The kid also had to go to the doctor once a month for a full thorough check-up, like blood tests and every other test in between… Alan hated those check-ups with a passion…

Then there was Alan's asthma, which was a royal pain in the ass. Alan could be having lots of fun when suddenly an asthma attack comes and ruins it all… 

A bad asthma attack could leave Alan bedridden for days or even hospitalised. They had to be on constant alert for signs of an attack and be ready to stop it before it gets too bad. 

Alan's asthma was the worst in winter, and when he was sick, which seemed to constantly overlap. She knew Scott was constantly terrified that every time Alan got sick, that he would start on that downward spiral of illness again...

She knew all these details not just because she was friends with the princes, but because she was second in command of security after her father and a bodyguard to the princes.

Some people tried to question her position because her father was the head of security, but their argument went nowhere. She earned her position, anybody with eyes could see that.

And because of her position, she was entrusted with the royal family's secrets, even their biggest one. She would not reveal a word of any of them, even if she didn't agree with keeping a particular secret 'secret' in the first place…

She swore an oath to protect and keep the Royal family safe. She would rather die than betray the royal family, the closest thing she had to a proper family in years. She would not fail to protect them, not again…

The crowd clapped as John finished his speech and left the stage.

[blxssomwrites]

Title: The scars we hide Fandom: Gintama Rating: K Word count: 1767 words

My first jump into this fandom! I’ve recently started watching this series, and Gintoki quickly cemented himself as a top fav. I haven’t went that far in yet, but I really loved the relationship shared between him and Otose so I wanted to write something about them!

This piece is inspired by the headcanons from @gintamajustaway! I’m still learning how to write the characters, so I apologize if the characterization feels off. Regardless, I hope it’ll be an enjoyable read!

They say that with age comes wisdom, at least when it comes to knowing that things aren’t always as they appear.

Otose might be old, facing pain and aches befitting of an aged body but her mind is sharp and her eyes are even sharper. It’s a boon to have when she’s running the bar; knowing when to pour and when to pull back is what allows her to have returning customers. It’s not necessarily good for business if she lets them die of alcohol poisoning, after all.

But Otose thinks that she gets more practice in telling the subtleties of human emotions and behavior from the idiot living upstairs.

Sakata Gintoki is many things, though among those who knew him, the general view seems to split into two. A lazy, good for nothing perm haired manchild that attracts trouble the way a garbage truck attracts flies. A kind yet fierce self sacrificing samurai who’d do anything in his power to protect what’s precious to him.

Otose has come to learn that there’s more to what meets the eye. Gintoki hides what he truly feels behind layers upon layers of masks, especially if it hints at pains suffered from the life or death battles that he finds himself in far too often.

It’s impossible to survive the grievous wounds inflicted on his abused body without complications. Otose knows that there are days where his old scars act up, but for all the whining that Gintoki does on a daily basis, this is the one thing that he’d keep mum on.

She learns quickly that his body language provides more information than words ever will. Gintoki laughs obnoxiously to hide a wince. Slouches when he thinks no one is looking. Clenches his jaw when he frowns. His movements are less sharp, more practiced and controlled, like he’s trying not to tug on anything in fear of ripping the seams wide open.

Otose often leaves him be, for she knows that Gintoki is both stubborn and selfless, who wouldn’t take too well with being fussed over because he made them worry about him. Whenever he comes into her bar by himself, she doesn’t question when she spots bandages peeking out of his kimono, the faint exhausted lines on a too pale face. Instead, she quietly slides him an extra drink to his order, comments that he looks like shit and pretends not to see the vaguely appreciative look he gives her from the reflection of the glass she’s polishing.

But Otose cares more than she lets on, and has enough common sense to know when to step in. If his old scars affect him too much by her standards, she’s not going to let him suffer in silence any longer, nor any more than he should.

When Kagura and Shinpachi entered her bar that morning without Gintoki trailing behind them, Otose pretends to look disinterested when she gives them breakfast, commenting on the lack of their silver haired boss.

“Ah, Gin-san said that he feels tired today,” Shinpachi replies, eating his portion slowly as opposed to the girl that’s shoveling down her second bowl of rice beside him.

“Yeah! Gin-chan told us to mooch breakfast from you cause he doesn’t want to make it,” Kagura says in between bites, then shamelessly asks for more rice.

Otose’s eye twitches even as she scoops out another bowl full, while Shinpachi flashes her an apologetic smile for her tactless remark. That soon slides off into an almost thoughtful frown. “We have a job to do today, but I guess it’s just going to be the two of us.”

“Hmph! He’s leaving us to do all the work today while he sleeps like a lazy bum.” Kagura makes a face. “Shinpachi! We’re not going to give him any of the pay, okay!? If you do I’ll hit you!” And she does smack him over the head.

“Ow! You’re hitting me anyway!” comes the heated reply, and then it degenerates into a nonsensical argument that hides the underlying worry that these two harbor. Otose knows that they sense something amiss with Gintoki, sensitive as they are when his mood genuinely plummets, but they’re unsure on how to tread on the subject. She doesn’t blame them.

When the pair finishes their breakfast and heads out to work, she makes an offhand comment on collecting rent from the lazy bastard later. Otose turns her back as the tension melts off of the children’s shoulders, and plans for her visit upstairs.

Roughly half an hour later, she exits her shop with supplies in hand and slowly makes her way upstairs. Otose doesn’t bother knocking, merely slipping inside with a slight shink.

Her steps are light, and it’s telling on how awful Gintoki feels when he fails to acknowledge her presence upon opening the door. The curtains were still drawn, probably in consideration for this prideful idiot who didn’t want his kids to see him in this state.

The blanket is pulled up that she only sees tufts of his silver hair. Otose sits a considerable distance away, for prior experiences taught her that with Gintoki and his past, it’s best to be out of his reach until she has a good grasp of his mental state.

“Gintoki,” she calls out.

There’s a flinch from under the blanket before it’s pulled down enough for red rimmed eyes to peek through. Otose feels her heart clench slightly at the pain hidden in them, but keeps her composure.

“Old hag.” Those eyes narrow. “If you’re here for rent, I don’t have the money.”

She knows that it’s an act to keep up appearances. He knows why she’s here but still puts up a front, this selfless fool.

“One of these days I’m going to throw your sorry ass out into the streets,” she replies with a faint huff. A beat of silence, then she wears a softer look. “What hurts this time?”

Gintoki closes his eyes, unable to stand the concerned gaze. He hates it, the man had once told her after too many drinks loosened his tongue. He hates making people worry for him, cause he doesn’t feel like he deserves it. Otose chalks it up to a drunkard’s rambling, and treats him a little nicer the next day when he complains of a hangover.

Otose doesn’t push even as the quietude stretches on for minutes. It’s a battle of wills, sprinkled with a dash of futile hope that if he remains still long enough, she’d give up and leave. Gintoki is stubborn but Otose didn’t survive this long by being docile, either.

They’ve done this song and dance before, back when it’s just the two of them. It’s only a matter of time before--

“... my shoulder.” Otose hums in acknowledgement, giving him room to elaborate if he wants. “... been a fucking bother since last night.”

Another hum, then she shuffles closer. Gintoki cracks open an eye at the noise, wariness clashing with her quiet resolution before he sighs. Otose doesn’t help him when he tries to sit up, though her hand hovers close at the small of his back, just in case.

He carefully sheds his pajamas, biting back winces when the simple act aggravates his shoulder. Otose has seen this strong back several times, and it’s never a pleasant sight when she sees new scars mixing with the old.

Her gaze flickers to the cause of his misery. It’s unsurprising that his dominant arm would bear the heaviest burden. It makes sense for his enemies to incapacitate the wooden sword that inflicts damage as if it were steel. Slash his shoulder and that should stop his rampage, right?

Too bad for them that Sakata Gintoki often defies common sense in his single minded desire to protect what’s precious to him. But damage is still damage, and despite being called the shiroyasha, Gintoki is very much human. His body can never fully recover, only repairs itself enough to function.

Otose brings with her a small bowl of warm water and a clean kitchen towel. She dips it in, squeezes out the excess water before she gently dabs his shoulder. Gintoki hisses at the contact, but aside from the initial flinch, he remains tight lipped.

Once it’s sufficiently cleaned, she picks up the small bottle of ointment, and squeezes out the clear gel onto her fingertips. Then it’s carefully applied on the marred skin. Another hiss, an instinctive lean to get away until he rights himself back up again. Otose continues the treatment, her practiced hand being as gentle as it could be.

After a thorough coating, she tells him to stay put prior to her exit, barely catching the grumbled complaint. Her initial action was to pour him a glass of strawberry milk, but after a moment of consideration, she switches it with cool water. A bottle of painkillers was fished out from inside her left sleeve, and with the items in tow, she returns to his room.

Gintoki is now wearing his pajamas properly again, still sitting upright. His eyes flicker to the door upon her entrance.

“At least you know how to follow orders.”

“Shut up.”

Still, he accepts the pills and water with a tiny nod. Otose goes to sit back down by his futon when he gingerly wiggles his way under the blanket again. The treatment might take the edge off, but what he really needs is rest. A difficult task while he waits for the pills to kick in, she’s sure.

Otose may not be able to alleviate his pain, but she can help him relax enough to make it bearable. Thin, wrinkled fingers slowly finds purchase in his hair, and after gauging his reaction, they slowly dig into his curls.

Ever so slowly, the tension oozes out of him. A small, appreciative sigh slips through his lips with each pass that she makes through his soft locks. Otose merely continues the comforting ministrations until his eyes slip shut and his breathing evens out. Her fingers remain for a while longer while she takes in his peaceful expression.

Her own lips curled into a small, maternal smile. Gintoki is stubborn and reckless, lazy and boorish, loyal and kind, and the son that Otose sees him as.

Eventually, she does pull away. Otose picks up her stuff, shuts the door behind her and continues on with her day. Things will return to normal soon enough.

(She doesn’t question when Shinpachi and Kagura gifts her with some red bean buns that evening, nor acknowledges the soft thank you that Gintoki utters when he passes by her the next morning).

[master-sass-blast]

Strong as Stone- Part Twelve

*gets on top of steep stool and shouts* LORDS, LADIES, AND NOBLE GENTRY OF NON-COMFORMING GENDER IDENTITIES, IT’S GETTING GAY IN HERE!!!

Welcome back! Sorry I’m a little late. I’ve been weaning onto some new meds, and it’s been a bit of a doozy.

But! Why worry about that when we can read fanfiction instead!

Last time, we watched the latest edition of “Politics suck!” starring our least favorite troglodite, President Donald Trump.

Trump smacked Okoye across the ass, and --yes--Okoye will get her revenge, but right now it’s gay time!

This edition covers Wakanda’s “Festival of Loves,” which includes Wakanda’s version of Pride.

Author’s Note: This is not me saying how we do Pride is wrong. I’m just playing with some different concepts for a work of fiction. Don’t eat me alive, please.

Rating: T for language and mentions of abuse.

Warnings: mentions of abuse/abusers, enough fluff to rot your teeth off, lots and lots of gay energy, and mild sexual content.

Pairings: Okoye x M’Baku, Shuri x OC, and background T’Challa x Nakia.

@the-last-hair-bender

Everyone has their own perspective on what makes the best source of power. Some will say wealth. Some will say strength. Some will say cunning.

All of those are fine and good, but know that love is the strongest power there is, my dears.

Love of self can lead one man to hoard away unimaginable wealth from the needy. Love of things can lead many to fill their lives with material objects --and a great deal of debt.

Love can also lead to beautiful art, powerful movements, inspired leadership, and healthy, tender individuals. This is why we celebrate love. It is a gift from Bast, as much as the heart-shaped herb.

It may seem contradictory, but keep love in your lives, my dears. A Dora who knows no love is no Dora at all.

Okoye had to force herself to keep from sprinting as she navigated the back halls of the palace. Try to stay composed. You wouldn’t want to actually run into someone.

Five minutes ago, Ayo had poked her head in her office to deliver the news she’d been waiting five days to hear.

M’Baku’s ship had landed.

Okoye allowed herself to up her pace to a brisk walk as she caught sight of M’Baku on the landing pad, walking towards the main palace entrance. But it’s not like I need to take the scenic route, either.

Two months. Two long, lonely months of separation. Two months of being relegated to video calls and passionate letters –M’Baku, as she had discovered, was something of a closet romantic. Two months of not being able to touch her lover, of not being able to feel his strong arms wrap around her, of not being able to hear his warm, deep laughter right in her ears.

Okoye jogged around a corner, then broke into a run as she saw M’Baku step into the hall, grinning widely.

M’Baku ran towards her, just as eager, and caught her in his arms. He swept her off her feet and spun her in a circle, kissing her passionately as he murmured praises to her and Hanuman. “I’m so happy to see you.”

Okoye wrapped her arms around his neck, sighing happily. “I missed you.”

A growl slipped past M’Baku’s lips as his arms tightened around her. “And I you.” He stepped forward, still holding her in his arms, until they were up against the wall.

Okoye inhaled sharply as M’Baku started kissing and sucking his way down her neck, his hips rocking against hers. “M’Baku, this is not the time or the place!”

“On the contrary. We’ve missed each other for several weeks. What could be a better time than now?”

“M’Baku. Please.”

M’Baku let out a disgruntled sigh and stepped back, carefully setting her on the floor. “I’ve missed you, Okoye. I don’t feel any particular shame in that.”

“Neither do I, but there’s something to be said for professionalism,” Okoye said as she straightened her armor. When M’Baku’s frustrated expression didn’t lift, she smoothed her hands over his chest in a soothing fashion. “Besides, I’m taking the second day of the festival off so we can celebrate together.”

M’Baku raised an eyebrow. “And the significance thereof?”

“The second day focuses relationships, romantic and platonic. I thought it was fitting.” She grinned up at him. “It also means that I get the night and next morning off. I don’t suppose you can think of something I could do with all that free time.”

M’Baku grinned down at her. “You could do me.”

Okoye chuckled as she leaned up on her toes to kiss him. “I like the sound of that.”

M’Baku sighed as they broke the kiss a few moments later. “How have you been, Okoye?” His expression darkened slightly. “How are you fairing from your run in with the American idiot?”

Okoye grimaced as they started walking down the hall in the direction M’Baku had come from. “I’m alright. I’ve been meeting with my assigned counselor. The White House hasn’t issued an apology yet, but the King’s legal aide is confident we have enough to launch a lawsuit at the President for sexual assault and emotional damages.”

M’Baku let out an annoyed huff. “He deserves worse. I’d love to see you kick his ass in ritual combat.”

“So would I, but I doubt they’ll spring for that.”

M’Baku ‘hmph-ed’ and took her hand in his. “Well, I’m glad you’re alright. And I’m glad that we’ll get some time together during this… celebration. What will be going on, exactly?”

“Well, the festival of Loves officially lasts for three days, though the entire month is dedicated to expressing love in all forms. The first day focuses on love among family, the second on love between platonic and romantic relationships, and the third is about queer identities and attractions.”

M’Baku nodded. “And what is the third day like?”

“Well, lectures about queer identity, expression, and history are held at the central library during the morning. During the hottest part of the day, the main news network runs a broadcast recognizing contributions to the arts, sciences, and humanities by queer individuals, and during the evening a parade takes place in the streets. Official functions break off after the sun finishes setting, but a lot of people will stay out and have fun.”

“And have there ever been… incidents on the third day?”

It was Okoye’s turn to raise an eyebrow as she looked up at M’Baku. “Do you mean incidents like your uncle?”

“Yes.”

Okoye shook her head. “Not really. Everyone uses different paints on their faces to indicate how they identify. Those looking for an ‘encounter’ wear a bracelet on their left hand. Those who aren’t wear one on their right. Everything’s pretty easy to understand, so miscommunications are rare. And, for the odd bigot or two that would be daring enough to show their face, we have a security team that is trained to escort them out or detain them, depending on what the situation calls for.”

M’Baku nodded, seemingly impressed. “I wasn’t expecting that level of thoroughness. Shuri already told me about the idea behind the third day. I thought it would be good for Dewani to be surrounded by that kind of support and positivity, but she was a little…”

“Nervous?”

“To put it mildly.”

Okoye squeezed his hand. “Well, don’t force her to go if she doesn’t want to, but definitely let her know that she’ll be perfectly safe while she’s there.”

“I will. Will I be able to see you tonight?”

“Actually, you will. The Queen Mother invited me to dinner with you, Dewani, and the family. But as for now, I have a meeting with Ayo to schedule the duty rosters for the festival.”

The corner of M’Baku’s mouth lifted in a smile. “Then I’ll see you later, my love.” He kissed her cheek, and let go of her hand with a squeeze.

Okoye smiled back and started walking in the direction of her office.

“…and that pretty much settles the security team rosters. We did manage to settle the two boyfriends that wanted to celebrate the third day together.”

Okoye frowned as she studied the list. “Are they working separate shifts or together?”

“Together. I was able to find enough singles who were willing to switch for one reason or another.”

Okoye nodded, then grinned. “Very nice, Ayo. You’ve done very well in arranging everything. How are the Dora looking?”

“Djabi and Aneka wanted to switch days. Aneka wanted the third day off to participate the parades, and Djabi wanted the first day to see her grandmother. I need your approval for that.”

Okoye nodded. “You have it.” She sat back in her seat. “This is the first festival that you’ve organized the entire duty roster for by yourself. How do you feel?”

“Satisfied.”

Okoye snorted as Ayo smirked. “A woman of few words. I’m taking the second day off, so I’ll cover for you on the third day, if you like.”

Ayo nodded. “I’d appreciate it. What’s the King’s schedule look like?”

“He’s making an appearance with the Princess, the Queen Mother, and Lady Nakia tomorrow at the main festival site in each tribe’s territory –save the Jabari. That’ll run from the morning to before noon, take a break for the heat of the day, then finish before dinner. From what I’ve heard, Chief M’Baku and Dewani will coming with.”

Ayo peered at the holographic display of the schedule. “Will the Chief’s primes be accompanying him?”

“Yes. On the second day, the King and Lady Nakia will be walking through the main plaza in Birnin Zana before a celebration at the palace with the tribal leaders and their partners.”

Ayo grimaced slightly. “Great. A building full of leaders with different opinions and no problem with expressing them.”

“It’s only for a couple hours. After that, the King and Lady Nakia will be enjoying a private celebration of their own, no guards required.”

“No guards will want to be present for that bit, trust me.”

Okoye smirked. “I’ll be off on the second day. Can you handle running everything for that long?”

Ayo nodded, the picture of stoic confidence. “Of course.”

“Alright. Since the Princess is out –and, given Nakia’s orientation—the family will be participating more directly in the parades on the third day. You’ll be off then, so there’s nothing there for you to worry about.” She groaned as her kimoyo beads started chirping, reminding her of an appointment. “I have to go. The Queen Mother invited me to dinner with the family, M’Baku, and Dewani tonight.”

A ghost of a smile flickered across Ayo’s face as Okoye stood a straightened her armor. “Sounds like fun.”

Okoye grimaced. “It’s always so awkward.”

“Well, you ought to get used to it. I imagine you’ll be dealing with it more, since you’re involved with the Chief.”

Okoye sighed. “I know. It’s just… weird.”

Dinner was pleasant enough. Everyone was familiar enough with each other that the conversation flowed easily, letting Okoye sit back and watch as they moved from course to course. 

Dewani, however, was uncharacteristically quiet as she poked at her main course with her fork.

Shuri, amidst her excited chatter about the latest development in satellite technology, seemed to notice that her usually brash girlfriend wasn’t contributing to the controlled chaos and nudged her in the side with her elbow. “Hey. Why so glum?”

“What? I’m not glum.”

“Oh, come on! You’ve barely said a word!”

Dewani shrugged, eyes not leaving her plate. “Just tired. That’s all.”

Shuri pursed her lips, and she looked like she was itching to argue, but she settled at a warning look from her mother. “Well, I can’t wait for you to see the queer solidarity parades on the third day. There’s always fireworks, and a lot of dancing!” She grinned excitedly. “I actually get to participate this year! I don’t have to watch from the sides anymore!”

Nakia grinned back. “It’s a lot of fun. I remember my first parade. I was eleven, and my father carried me on his shoulders so I wouldn’t get trampled by the other, larger adults there.”

“Sounds like it’s quite the event,” Dewani said quietly.

“It’s awesome!” Shuri beamed at her girlfriend. “Did you ever get to do anything like that in the Jabari lands?”

Dewani’s mouth twitched into a frown. “Uh… no. I couldn’t really do that… with my uncle and everything.”

The table went dead silent at the reminder of F’Tendi and the abuse Dewani had suffered.

Shuri paled, bit the inside of her cheek, and dropped her head into her hands. “For Bast’s sake, how can I be a super genius and shove my foot in my mouth that badly?”

At that, Dewani laughed. “It’s fine. I’m glad you’re excited. I just… don’t have the same confidence in my orientation, I guess.”

“No one says you have to be out at the festival,” Okoye interjected. “Plenty of people go without identifying because they aren’t sure how they want to identify or just don’t want to. You’re not obligated.”

“Yeah, but I know I’m a lesbian.”

“Yes, you are, but you can come out on your own time,” Nakia said gently. “Just because you know who you’re attracted to doesn’t mean you have to share it right then and there.”

Dewani pushed a few pieces of potato around on her plate before looking up at Okoye, an anxious glint in her eyes. “You’ve worked the festival before, right?”

“I have.”

“Do things… do people ever show up and try to… hurt anyone?”

Okoye sat back in her seat, running through her mental catalogue of all the times she’d served and attended the love parades. “I can only remember one time. There was an ex-boyfriend whose girlfriend had broken up with him for multiple reasons. He’d stalked her for a couple months, and tried to jump her at the parade.”

Dewani grimaced. “What happened?”

“Three other guys and the girl’s new girlfriend beat the shit out of him. He was arrested afterwards for stalking and harassment.”

“The parade is extremely safe,” Nakia added with a reassuring smile. “We all look out for each other.”

Okoye watched carefully as Dewani smiled back with a dim, nervous smile. Something else is going on.

Or maybe not. The girl had been abused most of her life by a homophobic, bigoted uncle. It could be past abuse and fear surfacing.

Well, it’ll become clear in due time, Okoye thought as she sipped at her wine.

Okoye rolled her neck and shoulders as the ship landed on a private dock in the Mining tribe territory. Last one. Last one, and then we’re home. 

The first day was always the longest. As the ruler of Wakanda, T’Challa had to attend the official family-honoring ceremony for each tribe. Each tribe had a different time reserved, based on their respective traditions and values that surrounded the concept of family. However, without fail, three things happened during each visit:

First, the King would be greeted by the entire tribe in the spiritual and ceremonial center of the territory.

Second, the King would give a speech –tailored to the unique values and beliefs of the tribe—about the importance of love amongst family, how Wakanda was a family as a nation, and how loving and supporting each other as Wakandans was important and in the spirit of the festival.

Third, the belief specific function –for the Mining tribe, it meant that the King would meet any new infants that had been borne before the festival.

She inhaled deeply as she escorted the King, his family, M’Baku, Dewani, and the Jabari primes to the center of the Mining tribe territory with the Dora Milaje on the roster for the day. Almost done.

The greeting and speech went well. Okoye watched carefully while two off the more recent recruits –to make up for the women she’d lost fighting Killmonger and the Border tribe—stand by the King and his family as parents of new babies brought their children up for the King to see. So far, everything was going well.

Dewani sidled up next to her, having opted to hang back instead of stand with Shuri. “Can I ask you a question, or do I need to wait until we’re on the ship?”

“Ask away,” Okoye said, careful to keep an eye on the crowd and the King.

“How safe are the parades?”

Okoye frowned. “How do you mean?”

Dewani looked down at her feet, rubbing her hand up and down her arm. “You mentioned the stalker guy…”

Okoye smiled slightly, trying to be reassuring while trying to appear professional and somewhat menacing at the same time. “That was a one-off, Dewani. And, like I said, everyone jumped him before he could do anything.”

Dewani didn’t seem too reassured. She quirked her mouth from side to side as she shifted back and forth before murmuring through gritted teeth “We have celebrations like these in the Jabari lands, too. My uncle always told me that if I ever went to them, he’d find out and remind me of my place in the world.”

Okoye kept her face neutral as she processed the new information. “And you’re worried about him finding you?”

“Or one of his supporters.”

Okoye mulled the idea over. “Well, any Jabari are going to stand out amongst the crowd. Are any others coming?”

“Just a few of my brother’s friends who were curious about the festival.”

“Then I’ll make sure they and the Primes are put in our system. Anyone who doesn’t match them will be watched. Is that good?”

Dewani swallowed hard. “I guess.”

Okoye bit back a frown as Dewani walked away. Feasibly, there wasn’t too much else she could do. She had no way of knowing who was a supporter of F’Tendi and who wasn’t. However, it stood to reason that he and any others who shared his views would pose a threat to the festival-goers, meaning it warranted some sort of plan. As Okoye watched Dewani lean against her brother out of the corner of her eye, she settled on a couple ideas.

First, she needed to talk to Ayo before she clocked out for the day.

Second, she needed to talk to M’Baku and see if he knew the identities of his uncle’s supporters.

Oh no, F’Tendi, Okoye thought as the King finished seeing the last of the new children. You won’t be interfering this time. Not on my watch.

Ayo was waiting for her in her office when she got back. “Nice shirt.” 

Okoye looked down at the low cut tank top she’d put on after showering. “Is it too much?”

“Depends. Are you seeing M’Baku tonight?”

“…Yes.”

“Are you looking to get plowed?”

Okoye stuck her tongue at her best friend. “As a matter of fact, I am.”

“Then it’s perfect. Your message said you wanted to talk to me?”

“Yes.” Okoye filled Ayo in on what Dewani had told her. “I’ll try to get any identities of F’Tendi’s supporters from M’Baku, and we can list the Jabari that are members of M’Baku’s and Dewani’s party, but there’s no real way of knowing who’ll be a supporter and who won’t.”

A shadow of frown flickered across Ayo’s face. “That is a problem. Do we need to put more Dora into rotation for the third day?”

Okoye mulled the idea over for a moment before ultimately shaking her head. “I don’t think so. The Jabari are going to stand out in the crowd regardless, and bigots are going to stand out even more. They don’t have any weapons outside of the ones they craft out of their sacred wood, and those can only do so much damage at a time. Besides, as ignorant and hateful as F’Tendi might be, I don’t think he’d risk causing an inter-tribe incident.”

Ayo nodded. “Alright. Anything else?”

“Actually, there was one other thing I wanted to talk to you about…”

Okoye knocked on the door to M’Baku’s room. 

It opened a few seconds after, revealing M’Baku’s massive form. He smiled when he realized that she was the one who had knocked. “Well, hello.”

Okoye grinned up at him and leaned against the door frame. “I’m off for the night. I don’t suppose you’d know a good place for me to stay?”

M’Baku grinned back. “You could stay with me. Actually, the Queen Mother offered to watch Dewani for the night so she and Shuri could hang out. I’ve got the suite to myself.”

“Goodness. I guess all that’s left is for you to invite me in.”

M’Baku scooped her into his arms, kissing her passionately as he carried her inside and closed the door behind him. “You’re always welcome to stay with me.”

“I need to talk to you about something.” 

“Well, then I guess it’s good that we’re standing right next to each other and have several hours of uninterrupted time.”

Okoye smacked M’Baku on the arm as he laughed, delighted with himself.

They were in one of the public parks on the outskirts of Birnin Zana. There were a few people walking here and there, but the lush, green expanse of grass and trees was largely empty. Between the shade of the tree they’d settled under and the steady, cool breeze, it was a pleasant morning –even by M’Baku’s standards.

“It’s about Dewani,” Okoye said once M’Baku had settled down.

“Go on,” M’Baku said, voice carefully neutral. He’d stopped looking at her, deliberately focusing on the park in front of them, and his shoulders had gone stiff.

“Relax,” Okoye said as she nudged him with her own shoulder. “We’re fine. I’m just worried about her, is all.”

That got M’Baku’s attention. He frowned down at her. “How so?”

Okoye told him about what she and Dewani had talked about the day prior. “I don’t know any of your uncle’s connections, and they could be a real threat to the regular festival goers if they show up. If you could provide me with any names and IDs, I’d appreciate it.”

“I can do that, but a Jabari is going to stand out among all you low-landers.”

“Yes, but I don’t know if any of your people are going to come down of their own volition. I don’t want them to be unfairly profiled because of what they wear or how they act, only to leave the festival with the belief that we don’t trust your tribe.”

M’Baku smiled and kissed the top of her head. “You’re wonderful, ‘koye. I’ll make sure I have a list for you by the end of the day.”

“Thank you.”

M’Baku resumed his scan of the park, far more relaxed than he had been at the start of the conversation. He jerked his chin at a stand of trees at the edge of the park. “You said there was a river over there.”

Okoye nodded. “It runs through the whole of Wakanda. It’s the same river that you found the King in.”

M’Baku stood. “Do you mind if we check it out? I’ve always wondered what it looked like at the other end.”

Okoye smiled, and took his hand as she stood. “Not at all.”

M’Baku stared at the page of colored patterns that had been set on the table in front of them. “What is all of this?” 

They had gathered in the formal dining room so that everyone could do up their festival paint for the evening. Nakia –already wearing the paint that marked her as pansexual—was laughing as she did up T’Challa’s ally paint. Shuri was beaming excitedly as Ramonda did up her paint for the lesbian pattern; Ramonda, for her part, looked like she was holding back tears of pride with considerable success.

“These are the orientation and gender identity marks that everyone will be wearing today,” Okoye explained, her face already painted. “Some people don’t use it because they don’t want to, but those who do use the patterns and colors that correlate to whichever identity suits them best.”

“Right. So, you’re this one—” he tapped at the woman’s pattern for straight ally “—and I’m this one?” He tapped at the man’s pattern for straight ally.

“Yes, but you have the wrong bowl. Here, let me help you.” As she started painting the right stripes on M’Baku’s cheeks, she looked over at two of his Primes, who were smiling and talking in the Jabari dialect as they painted the symbols for homosexuality on each other. “They look they’re having fun.”

“Yeah. They’re the couple I married while you were gone.”

“Oh! Cool.” She looked up as a servant announced that O’Chenga, advisor to Chief M’Baku, had arrived. “What’s he doing here?”

“I asked him to come,” M’Baku said. “To help keep an eye on things.”

As M’Baku introduced O’Chenga to the royal family, Okoye glanced over at Dewani.

The girl had sequestered herself off in a dark corner of the room. She was sitting so that she was almost crunched in on herself, a bowl of paint and the card with the designs in her lap and a mirror in her hand. Her hands were shaking, smearing the designs into indiscernible blobs all over her face.

Okoye was about to walk over and help her when the doors opened again. 

All of the Dora Milaje walked in, lead by Ayo. Her cheeks were done up with the bisexual symbols, and she was wearing a shirt that had a poem about queer identity and pride screened onto the front of it. Behind her, Aneka was done up with the asexual paint and a shirt with the pattern of the asexual flag.

All of the Dora, in fact, had come ready for the parades --face pant, parade appropriate clothing and jewelry, the bracelets, everything. Lesbian, pansexual, genderqueer, omnisexual, gender fluid, skoliosexual, transgender, demi-romantic, demi-sexual, non-binary, agender, bigender, questioning, polyamorous, queer, asexual, aromantic, bisexual, and allies… a united group of beautiful differences.

Okoye smiled, heart swelling with pride for the women she was honored to serve with and call friends.

“Commander,” T’Challa said, both caught off guard and impressed by the appearance. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I had some business to finish before I headed out to the festival.”

Dewani was staring at the rest of the Dora Milaje, mouth hanging open slightly.

I wonder if she’s ever seen this many queer people in one place before, Okoye thought.

Ayo noticed Dewani sitting in the corner and walked over to her. She knelt in front of the teenager and started talking to her, smiling gently and gesturing to the card.

After a moment, Dewani nodded and moved to a chair by the table.

“Aneka, can you get me a make-up wipe?” Ayo wiped off the smudged, bleary paint and started redrawing the symbols with the finesse of an expert. “I like your dress.”

“Thanks.” Dewani smoothed her hands over the skirt of her blue and green dress. “When… when did you realize you were bi?”

“When I was sixteen,” Ayo said. “I met a girl at the parades and realized she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. And then I met a guy later that night who was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.”

Aneka chuckled. “Bisexual and weak.”

“Basically.”

Dewani chewed on her lower lip. “What are the parades like?”

“Honestly, I think you’ll like them,” Ayo said. “There’s a lot of music and dancing. And blacklights. The paint glows under them.”

“It’s basically a giant, city-wide street party, but a thousand times gayer,” Aneka chimed in.

Ayo nodded as she stepped back and handed Dewani a mirror. “You’re done. What do you think?”

Dewani let a tentative smile tug at her lips as she stared at her reflection. “I like it. It looks really good. Thank you.”

M’Baku grinned down at his sister and squeezed her shoulder with his hand. “You look good. Thank you, Commander.”

“Will you be at the parade?” Dewani asked as she stood and tucked herself under her brother’s arm.

“Of course.”

“And… you’re not worried?”

Ayo pulled a vibranium knife out of her pocket and flipped it open to reveal a glinting, six-inch vibranium blade. “Not really.” She winked as she flipped the knife shut and pocketed the weapon. “It’s a safe event. And, since you’re going with the Princess, you’ll be guarded by the Dora.”

Shuri sidled up to Dewani, resplendent in the same face paint and a shirt that read “Gay and Proud.” “See, there are benefits to going out with me.”

Dewani grinned and slung her arm around Shuri’s shoulder. “Oh, trust me, I already knew that.”

Okoye smiled as she watched Dewani and Shuri walked out of the dining room, surrounded by the Dora Milaje. She nudged Ayo’s arm with her elbow. “Thanks.”

“No problem. We have to look out for each other.”

O’Chenga stared after her as Ayo walked out of the dining room, mouth hanging open and an awestruck expression on his face. “Is she single?”

Music blared through speakers that hovered over the crowd. Fireworks burst into the air, in the colors of the Pride flags and the patterns that were painted on thousands upon thousands of faces. People danced together, face paint and smiles glowing under black lights that hovered next to the speakers. 

An undeniable energy of excitement and joy hung in the air, filtering through everything and everyone until every last person was swept up in the celebration.

Okoye smiled as she watched Dewani and Shuri dance together, laughing breathlessly as they moved and bounced to the beat of the music.

Off to the side, the two husbands that served on M’Baku’s team of Primes exchanged soft, gentle smiles as they swayed to the music.

In the background, she could see Ayo and O’Chenga talking while sitting at a bar. Okoye smiled when she caught Ayo’s eye, and waved subtly as Ayo lifted her glass.

M’Baku put his hand on her shoulder, jolting her out of her reverie. He smiled as he watched his sister, then nodded as he took in the excited, happy crowd. “I’ll admit it. This is amazing.”

Okoye beamed with pride as she looked out over the throng of people. “This is Wakanda.”

[find-a-way-2-my-heart]

Farmers' Market Challenge

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my overactive imagination

A/N: This was written in 2011 for a challenge in a LJ group of JM Fanfic I was part of.

Pairing: John Mayer x OC/Carl Mayer x OC

Word count: 2084

Warnings: N/A

"Maybe I should call her?" Carl whined from the living room and John held in the thousand curses that crossed his mind at that very moment. His girlfriend of almost eighteen months had broken up with him the week before, and he had been moping around at John's house ever since. Eating all his food, drinking all of his beer and soon making an everlasting dent in his couch, since he hardly moved from there. John walked up to the living room and wasn't surprised to see Carl sitting on the same spot, beer bottle in hand, and the same sweatpants he had worn for the past couple of days. His hair a mess and his eyes red both from the lack of sleep as well as the abuse of alcohol. At the rate he was going, he probably wouldn't have a fully functioning liver by the end of the month. Deciding that it was time to do something instead of just watching him wither away, even though it had been fun for the first couple of days, John reached out and grabbed the beer from Carl's hands. "Enough of this. Get up and go take a shower, we're going out!" John bellowed and almost laughed when Carl literally jumped on his seat. "What are you talking about? I'm not going anywhere, I just need peace to go through this," Carl said, using that whining tone that no one would ever believe it was coming from a thirty-four year old. "Carl William Mayer, I'm telling you, raise that lousy ass from this couch right now and get on the shower, or I'll be flying Mom in and you know that she won't have half the patience I'm having with you right now. Now GO!" John commanded again and the mention of Margaret seemed to take the desired effect, as he stood up and dragged himself to the bathroom, cursing all the way until he closed the door and John couldn't listen to him anymore. *** "Come on Amy! I can't believe that you'll spend the little time we'll have together crying over a failed relationship, it wasn't you that ended things in the first place?" Annie said, sliding into her sister bed and hugging her tightly. She was in town to spend her vacation with her sister and wouldn't certainly allow a break-up to spoil it. She had met Carl a couple of times and had thought him to be a thorough nice guy. She didn't know why Amy had broken up with him in the first place, as her sister didn't get into any specifics, but she was sure that she hadn't meant it, or else she wouldn't be that miserable. "I did, but I miss him..." she confessed, and Annie realized that there'd be another bout of crying if she didn't act quickly. "Okay, Amy, that's it... Let's get out from this bed and do something fun, at least to take your mind off of it for a while, what do you say?" Annie said animatedly, pulling her sister by the hand to get her out of bed, glad to see her giggling in response. "All right, just let me take a shower and we'll go," Amy promised and headed to the bathroom, as Annie headed out to the guest bedroom and did the same. *** "Farmers' Market? Honestly?" Carl grunted as John parked the car. "What's the matter? There's sun, there's people and there's food. Real food, not that junk you've been munching on for the past week," John said, smiling brightly as they left the car and headed towards the stands, being assaulted by all of the noises and smells. "Yeah, whatever..." Carl shrugged and followed John, looking every inch as a kid that had just been chastised. They wandered around and John was happy to see Carl loosening up a little, and even making friends with a lady that was selling cakes, exchanging a few tips and recipes. He even caught Carl smiling a little and was happy with his accomplishment. "Think I might bake something today," Carl said, after he had parted his conversation with the old lady. "That's nice, what are you thinking on baking?" John asked as they approached the fruit stands. "I don't know, maybe an apple pie, but the recipe for the banana cake that lady gave to me seems delicious, what do you think?" He asked John, who was playing with an apple from one of the stands. Carl's question startled him and he ended up letting the apple fall on the floor, what earned him a stern look from the guy responsible for the stand. "Sorry!" He apologized hastily and bended to pick the apple up from the floor. It had a moss on the side it had fallen. "You dropped it, you pay for it," the guy said and John sighed, getting a bill from his pocket and handing it to the guy, throwing the apple away in the nearest trashcan. Raising his head, he didn't see Carl. "Carl?" He called and soon saw his brother crouched a few feet ahead, talking to a little girl. He walked up to them and saw her hand him a banana. "It's the most delicious banana in the world, it has magic powers," the little girl was saying and John couldn't help but to chuckle. "Really?" Carl asked, accepting the fruit from the little girl's hands. "Yes, my mom says it makes you grow. Although I think you are tall enough already," the little girl said and Carl laughed. John felt good upon listening to it. Getting out of the house was definitely helping. After talking some more with the girl and walking around buying a variety of fruits and vegetables, some John hadn't even heard about before, they walked up to a charming coffee shop to sit down for a bit. They ordered coffee and muffins, and were waiting for their orders to arrive when John felt Carl stiffening in his seat. "What is it, Carl?" John asked, touching his arm. He didn't seem to have acknowledged the touch, though, as his eyes seemed fixed somewhere else. John cursed under his breath when he realized to where, or better saying, to whom he was staring. Amelia Louis, the girl responsible for Carl's broken heart, was standing just a few feet away, eating on a scone and talking animatedly to another girl. John let go of Carl's arm when his eyes laid on Amy's companionship. She had long curly dirty blonde hair, that hung loose down her back, tamed only by a black bandana that was tied to like a tiara, to keep her hair from falling over her face. She had a bright smile, and curves that made John's pants tighten. While he was busy checking out Amy's friend, he let go of Carl's arm, and didn't realize that he had stood up and headed to where Amy was until he entered his field of vision. "Oh shit!" He muttered and stood up quickly, way too quickly, as he failed to notice the waitress coming in his direction with their order, and stumbled into her straight on, splashing coffee all over her uniform and a little over his shirt. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry," he apologized and helped her gather everything from the floor and paying the bill, leaving a generous tip, before finally heading to where Carl was standing. "Hi Amy," he said quietly, as he reached the trio. It was clear that it was an uncomfortable situation, with Amy and Carl just staring at each other in an uncomfortable silence. "Hi, I'm John," he said, offering his hand to Amy's friend, who seemed to be as uncomfortable as he was. "Hi, I'm Anastasia Louis, but everyone calls me Annie. Nice shirt, by the way," she chuckled while shaking his hand, and just now John looked down to his yellow shirt and realized the damage that the coffee had done. A stain right in the middle of his chest. “Oh fuck!” he cursed. “It gives it a whole other charm, like tie dye,” Annie chuckled as she observed John as he assessed the damage in his shirt. “Well, since I don’t have another shirt to wear, I’ll stick to the tie dye thing, it makes me feel less the three year old that can’t hold a cup,” John smiled and Annie smiled back, making him stare at her. But soon his attention was diverted again to his brother, who had started speaking. “I just wanted to know why…” Carl said and John went to stand beside him, like he was offering moral support. “I…” Amy said, but was interrupted by Annie. “Not even he knows why, Amy? What happened? What are you hiding?” Annie asked softly, even though John was able to sense a hint of urgency in her voice. “I found the ring, Carl,” Amy whispered. John and Annie looked at each other confused, but Carl seemed to know exactly of what she was talking about. “How did you do it? I had it hidden in a pretty safe place, because I intended it to be a surprise.” “I broke my glasses while I was writing, it was a Sunday evening, so I went to look for some duct tape to repair it temporarily until I was able to go to the store, you know that I can’t write without my glasses or I get those nasty headaches,” Amy explained and Carl just nodded knowingly. “So I panicked, all right? I’m not that sure if I am ready for a step that big.” “Then you decided that it would be easier to break-up with me and go on with your life. You didn’t love me enough to not even consider talking to me about it?” “Carl, please… This was the hardest decision of my life, I love you, I am miserable without you, but I panicked!” Amy declared and as if it was rehearsed, both of them started to walk towards each other, closing the distance. “Amy, I love you, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me and yes, I do want to marry you, but if you don’t feel comfortable to do it soon, I can wait, I can be patient, just don’t make me live without you,” Carl said and his hand reached out to touch Amy’s cheek who, in turn, closed her eyes and molded her face to his hand. John and Annie looked at each other and smiled. “I don’t want to live without you either. This week has been hell to me, a little sample of how hard my life would be without you by my side,” Amy said, opening her eyes and holding Carl’s hand between her own. “You don’t need to feel like that anymore, baby,” and then Carl leaned in and kissed her. John and Annie kept on smiling and high-fived. As the kiss went on, Annie and John looked at each other and started walking away from the couple, allowing them the alone time they most certainly needed. “So, can I buy you a cup of coffee?” John asked as they walked aimlessly. “Are you sure? Or are you planning on adding one more stain to your shirt?” Annie laughed and John felt goose bumps. “You are a smartass, I like it. And no, no plans to add any more stains,” he smiled and noticed that she was blushing a little. “Okay, I guess I can probably fit it in on my busy schedule,” Annie laughed and linked her arm on John’s. And he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt more comfortable. As they parted the kiss, Carl and Amy looked at each other and smiled. As they looked around, both of them were confused not seeing their siblings around. Quickly scanning their surroundings, Carl located John and Annie, arms linked and laughing. He pointed them to Amy, who smiled. “Do you think we should join them?” Amy asked, as they watched the couple sit at the same coffee shop John and Carl had been just a few moments before, seemingly deeply engrossed in conversation. “Nah… I don’t think they want company right now. Besides, I bet we have more interesting things to do,” Carl declared and Amy laughed as he passed an arm over her shoulder and she snuggled on to him and they started walking on the opposite direction of the coffee shop.

[siva3155]

300+ TOP ORAL RADIOLOGY Interview Questions and Answers

ORAL RADIOLOGY Interview Questions for freshers experienced :-

1. what is oral radiology? A: oral radiology is a medical specialty which focuses on the creation and interpretation of diagnostic images of the mouth and surrounding area. Dentists utilize oral radiology in their practices, as do head and neck surgeons, maxillofacial surgeons, and other members of the medical profession who work around the head and neck. In some regions, oral radiology is a recognized medical subspecialty and people such as dentists and radiologists can apply for board certification in this area 2. what are the disadvantages of being a Dental Assistant? A: getting f#cked by the dentist being elbow deep in the mouth of a crackhead whose mouth looks like he garggled acid and smells like something died. Plus you won''t make any money while the dentist hauls down six figures. People''s mouth, need I say more? It''s almost as bad as being a proctologist assistant. Well, smelling peoples breath all day and having to see what they had for lunch every day would seem to be drawbacks of the profession! Well, I couldn''t spend my day looking into other peoples mouths, but I''m glad some people can or else there would be nobody to fix our teeth when problems arise 3. oral surgery A: Dianne - Both redoing the upper jaw surgery and moving it forward along with setting back of the lower jaw is definitely possible. Before any surgery is done, a full radiologic work up along with a dental model work up must be done to achieve a result that is not only functionally sufficient, but is also physically pleasing. The full work up is necessary and you need to see the work up after it isdone. The surgeon must go over the different options and show what your face will look like with both upper and lower at the same time, with only upper or only lower. 4. oral tingling A: facial pain, facial tingling, peri-oral tingling, numbness, DDD, degenerative disc disease, degenerative joint disease Dear Lynn, Sorry to hear of your complaints. It sounds like you have been having a good thorough workup. Obviously a thorough examination with Xray, MRI, CT, EMG, EEG, blood tests, etc. is the first step. Facial nerve, trigeminal nerve, TMJ are all areas to be evaluate. I also agree with you, and not the doctors, that perhaps (even indirectly) the cervical spine can be contributing to this problem. I recommend a Doctor of Chiropractic with additional credentials 5. CT of abd and pelvis w/oral contrast A: 1. Prominent = large or increased in size 2. You are probably feeling Fat accumulations. Fat is what we refer to as lucent or easily passed through by radiation so this would not be readily seen with the normal penetrating power of the X-ray beam. Endometriosis isthe thickening of the lining inside of the uterus 6. what is Potassium Iodide? A: Potassium iodide is the active ingredient in ''fallout pills,'' pills that prevent the accumulation of radioactive iodines in the thyroid, which can cause thyroid cancer. Potassium iodide pills or potassium iodide powder should be consumed in regular doses if one might be exposed to radiation, such as during a nuclear war. The recommended oral dosage is 16 mg for infants under one month old, 32 mg for infants 1-36 months old, 65 mg for children 3-12, and 130 mg for adults. In the US, whether to stockpile potassium iodide for possible use during a nuclear war or Trans-Pacific fallout from an overseas war is a decision made at the state level by governors 7. what are the disadvantages of anyone a Dental Assistant? A: If you are considerate and understanding, near an amazing personality and your not judgemental. Then self a Dental assistant, has giant amount of advantages. Fallow your heart, and proceed with your aspiration. It''s your life, not anyone Else''s. Unfortunately, you know individual negative family in your vivacity. So, be a leader and grasp out there and do what your heart desires! Good luck, you can do anything. But not everything will preserve you happy, so generate your own choice, most important what make you happy! getting f#cked by the dentistyou should do it if you be aware of you want to, i think putting your hand in someones mouth would be really grossA dental ass 8. what different kinds of dentistry jobs are their? A: Denistry is a job with many opportunities, some jobs related to dentistry are: dental public health, endodontics, oral and maxillofacial pathology, oral and maxillofacial radiology, oral and maxillofacial surgery, orthodontics and dentofacial orthopedics, pediatric dentistry, periodontics(deals with the tissues in the mouth), and prosthodontics.. 9. what types of doctors are there? A: Ok, you asked for thorough! Addiction Medicine: The branch of medicine that concentrates on helping people overcome repetitive behaviors that can range from and alcohol dependency to tobacco use and eating disorders. Adolescent Medicine: The specialty of physicians with the experience and training to help young people meet the medical, psychological and social challenges that occur during the transition from childhood to adulthood. AIDS/HIV Care: A multidisciplinary effort that’s often led by primary-care physicians working in cooperation with case managers, registered nurses, nutritionists, physical and occupational therapists, and others 10. what in the ER for an asthma attack, what O2 saturation level is o.k. for discharge? A: A normal oxygen saturation (sat) for any person is 98%. An acceptable sat for a 7 year old depends on the doctor and the presentation of the child. Recent studies show that a 90% sat is acceptable to go home. Still, our doctors usually like it to be 92% or better -- or even 94%. So you can see there is some flexability. This would be a great question to ask your doctor. Do you need a pulse oximeter for home use? I think it would be rare for a doctor to recommend this for home use, but I''m sure there are exceptions

ORAL RADIOLOGY Interview Questions 11. what Dental Work is Safe During Pregnancy? A: An exerpt from americanpregnancy.orgPreventive dental cleanings and annual exams during pregnancy are not only safe, but are recommended. The rise in hormone levels during pregnancy causes the gums to swell, bleed, and trap food causing increased irritation to your gums. Preventive dental work is essential to avoid oral infections such as gum disease, which has been linked to preterm birth.what about other regular dental work during pregnancy?Dental work such as cavity fillings and crowns should be treated to reduce the chance of infection. If dental work is done during pregnancy, the second trimester is ideal 12. Failed Dental Implant A: Susan - Let me first tell you that my wife is a psychotherapist and I know the responsibilities in your life. Getting away from the above, let me tell you that I think your surgeon is just plain lousy. If he was an oral surgeon, he should have been an oral and maxillary surgeon. If not, he is not really a surgeon. Of course, not seeing your surgeries or your xrays, it is a little tough for me to tell you what is going on exactly, but it does sound like the surgeon pushed the implant into the soft palate during removal or the implant tha 13. crown or extraction? A: Corinne - The main reason that a microscopic fracture cannot be identified as opposed to evaluating bone for an implant is the size of the fractures. Most of these fractures are so small and thin that they cannot be seen on any radiologic examination. If your dentist and endodontist cannot determine if there is a fracture and you are in almost constant pain I would sort of follow your line of reasoning and get the extractions and implant insertions. The key to the success of this treatment is to be evaluated and treated only by a board certified oral and maxillofacial surgeon 14. spondylolisthesis, spondylolysis, A: A recap for you on Adult isthmic Spondylolisthesis (Slipped Vertebra)as you know. Other than what I have established below, the only way to get satisfaction is to have surgical intervention. what is it? what treatments are available? The spine is made up of a series of connected bones called "vertebrae." In about 5 percent of the adult population, there is a developmental crack in one of the vertebrae, usually at the point at which the lower (lumbar) part of the spine joins the tailbone 15. Dental vs Chest x-ray A: The absorbtion dose is dependent on the machine used for these procedures. Are we talking about Digital Radiograpy or the older form of diagnostic radiography. There is a huge difference and the dosages are greatly controlled with digital Vs General. The question failed to offer these options. As for the lead shields! The concentration of the xray beam to the local area of the jaw/oral, isconfined, and far away from the reproductive system. With a lead shield covering the abdomen, there is no chance of radiation exposure, and no potential risks. The thyroid collar is acceptable, but my personal opinion 16. Question for Dental Hygenist? A: Dental hygiene is a great second career. I went to hygiene school when I was twenty eight. I have found that having more life experience has helped me a lot when it comes to hygiene. I love my job and would not trade it for anything. Pros: Great working hours Great money Being able to help people understand and take care of their teeth. esp making them understand that oral health care isan indication of their whole body health. Good benefits, sick leave, paid holidays, some medical, free dentistry minus the lab fee. The ability to make the difference in someone's life, esp older patients who look forward to their cleanings because they don't have anyone 17. Liver CT - RCC A: Regarding the type of contrasts you were given, barium is an oral contrast. you might or might not have the oral contrast for the other studies as oral contrasts are not needed to evaluate the liver. IV iodine contrast is the essential contrast to study the liver. If possible, i would have the images of the 2 middle studies forward to the hospital or have this hospital send you the 2 scans that they did. To be able to compare all 4 studies would be very helpful in determining what"s going on. Renal cell cancer are many times not picked up on PET scan due their metabolic state not picking up 19. can you interpret my MRI in simple english please. A: Dear Shaz, Having a leg length inequality is actually a fairly common finding in patients, however, most doctors never actually look for the relationship of a short leg to spinal or pelvic dysfunction. I am actually impressed that your Osteopath has analyzed the relationship and given you a heel lift to correct the structural differences. In regards to your previous question about the MRI, leg length inequality can lead to accelerated degeneration in the lumbar spine and sacroiliac joints of the pelvis due to long term altered weight bearing on the joints. So this can easily be a causative factor in the degeneration found, however, it is probably not the sole factor. 20. HIDA Scan Results A: If you have several symptoms and that the gallbladder is found to be the cause it will be removed what matter the results of a statistical testing but so far the symptoms that you are giving are not much related to gallbladder but I can be mistaken without a physical exam it is hard to assess.this technique is used in acute cholecystitis and congenital biliary atresia and you do not present neither of both symptoms There are various patterns of radioactivity that can be seen following the injection of the radioactive chemical, and each has a different meaning. If the test chemical ORAL RADIOLOGY Questions and Answers Pdf Download Read the full article

[myselfinserts]

❝ You’re never too young to learn our national no-snitching policy. ❞

Team Inseki. A rebellious group of kids who went around doing minor vigilante work and protesting injustice. Famous for their parkour skills and their inability to be found, they were holding their latest round of tryouts today. 

Coming here was a bad idea. She knew it was a bad idea. Eraserhead had patrol today. If they were seen, they’d be caught for sure. Caught, arrested, maybe even expelled. All of them, all ninth graders aside from herself, were at risk of ending their futures with this move. 

And yet, the thrill of being caught was part of the appeal of this challenge. And it was exactly what Atsuko wanted. Though she wouldn’t say it out loud.

The leader of this team, an upper classmate from her school named Arisu Soramaru, was the best of the best on the school’s track team. As the leader of Team Inseki, she had final say in who got to be on the team. Those that made it got a member name. Those who didn’t got their memories of the team erased. 

Soramaru stepped forward, smiling brightly as she handed the group of students their black jerseys. These were to signify the initiates. Atsuko had been studying this team for the last six months. She new every member who was already on the team. How they kept themselves from being found. 

This was the biggest test.

“Alright kids,” Soramaru said cheerfully. “Now that warm ups are done, here’s the goal. We’re here, near he center of the school districts. The one point where they all converge. The goal is to get to Wookies without being caught by Eraserhead. These track suits and sneakers are the same ones used by all the sports teams in the area so if you get seen they can’t pinpoint you by glance alone. And each jacket has been outfitted with a special escape function. If someone not wearing one of these jackets grabs you, a smoke screen will activate and you can use that chance to get away.”

“Also, we’ll need you all to take one of these candies before we start. Each one is specially made to activate with your adrenaline. If you make the team, you’ll get the second candy that’ll deactivate the first. Those that don’t will forget the team ever existed the moment that your adrenaline levels out. And we don’t start until I see you chew and swallow.”

Atsuko watched closely to make sure she could tell if there was a way around the candies. Soramaru had each of the kids one by one chew and swallow. She inspected their mouths to make sure none of them were cheating. No under tongue, no behind the lips in front of teeth. She was being thorough. 

Looks like I’ll have to grin and bear it. 

When it came to her turn, Soramaru stopped. “Wow. That’s an intense look you got there, Kan. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you make a face like that.”

“It’s only because I’m determined to win.”

“Now that’s what I like to hear.” She handed her the candy. “Eat up.”

“Hold on!” one of the other initiates complained. “She’s like, a little kid! She’s way too young to be joining us!”

“We’re all middle schoolers idiot,” Soramaru chided. “The call for initiates said ‘anyone between grades seven and nine.’ She’s a seventh grader and already one of the best runners on the track team. You’re never too young to learn our national no-snitching policy.”

Atsuko ate it, surprised by how pleasant it was. A small chocolate that tasted like berry pie. The slight tingle in her blood became evident of the drug taking effect. 

“Arlight!” Soramaru called. “Masks on! Voice modulators on!”

Everyone slipped on their ski-masks, stuffing any and all loose hair out of sight and slipping the voice box on.

“On your marks! Get set! GO!”

“TOUCH OFF!” Atsuko screamed, her modulator making her sound weathered like a soldier.

Without even waiting for the rest of the initiates reactions, Atsuko took off to the next rooftop with a forceful run. The breeze buffeted her with every step. The world became a blur. One step. Two. Three. She reached out her hands to grasp the roofs with every jump. She slid down pipes, ran through crowds. Dodged into alleyways and ran up walls and fire escapes. She was taking a slightly longer path, but it was flatter. It was smoother. She’d be able to cut back from this.

“Stop right there!”

Atsuko glanced back briefly to catch the goggles of the erasure hero right behind her and a few other students that had chosen to try and follow her. She turned on her heel just as the capture rope came flying at the slowest runner. Atsuko jumped landing right on top of it and nodding to the runner, watching them leave before turning back to Eraserhead. 

“This building is private property,” Aizawa said. “You’re trespassing-”

“Kiss my ass.” 

Atsuko jumped off the capture weapon, smirking as it came for her. Without blinking, she caught it and pulled. This seemed to catch Eraser off guard, and she managed to send herself flying right at him. When he grabbed her arm, the smoke activated. She could just make out his shocked expression before swinging around and grabbing him, throwing him over her shoulder. She took the end of the capture weapon hogtied him, punching him hard in the gut to knock the wind out of him before taking his goggles. 

“You’re getting slow and predictable in your old age,” she said, grateful that the mask and modulator was hiding her identity. “You should have known this initiation was a diversion. Chances are Team Inseki are causing mayhem clear across the city. They announced a protest of the latest regulations on quirk usage a week ago.” She crushed the goggles in her hands, smiling as the spark of the tracker in the corner went. She pulled it out and tossed it aside, snapping what was left in two and taking the empty half, shoving it into her pocket. “You should have listened.”

“How did you do that?” Eraser coughed, trying to regain a breath. “How did you-”

“It’s a rhythm. A song. Every step I take is leading me forward. I am the blood of the wind. That’s how I was able to hogtie you.” She placed her hand on his neck, pinching slightly. “Now go the fuck to sleep.”

In three seconds, Eraserhead passed out. Atsuko padded herself down, making sure he didn’t slip a tracker onto her before taking his utility belt. She scattered all the items, used the smoke bombs, and crushed the first aid kit, including the healing water vials. She made sure to drink one before smashing the rest, careful not to get her DNA on anything. 

As soon as she was done she ran off. She took a backway, making sure to keep to the shadows. Once she found a spot to hide, Atsuko took a moment to breathe. She couldn’t help but smirk. 

The candies weren’t immune to her mother’s healing tempest. Her adrenaline had evened out and she remembered everything. 

Once she was sure the coast was clear, she began her sprint again, keeping more out of sight than before. It didn’t take her long to get to the mall, and once she arrived, she found the meeting place. An old bookstore just down the street. She entered through one of the rooftop windows, immediately being grabbed by two fellows in red tracksuits who immediately removed her mask and modulator.. 

Soramaru stepped forward. “You’re the last one, Kan. Sorry you didn’t make the cut.”

Atsuko smirked. “You want me on your team.”

“We don’t need slowpokes-”

“I take it the others didn’t tell you what I did to Eraserhead?”

“You…what?” Soramaru looked her over. “What do you-?”

Atsuko tore her arm free and reached into her pocket, pulling out the piece of goggle. “I left him hogtied and passed out on a rooftop. No injuries. Just damaged pride.”

Soramaru examined the piece of goggle, making sure there were no other tracers. When she made sure it was clean, she smiled. “Well done. This is…damn. I didn’t know you had it in you.” She paused. “…What’s your quirk?”

“I’m a healer. I can create bloody crystal claws on my hands and heal with extreme acupuncture. But I can only heal so much. Stuff that’d normally kill you like being crushed by a building is currently off the table, but I can heal a broken arm and such.”

She nodded. “I see. Soramaru stood up, nodding for the others to let Atsuko go. “Perhaps you’re the one we need after all.”

“Are you allowed to bring two people?”

“Under certain circumstances. This is one of those.” She reached into her pocket, pulling out a candy that resembled a cherry cordial. “Welcome to Team Inseki, Atsuko Kan. Or should I say ‘Touch Off’?”

Atsuko smiled. “Perfect name.”

After dinner that night, Ena and Atsuko sat in the General studies dorm room, going over their homework and occassionally asking for an extra hand from Clement as he arranged things how he wanted them. After a long conversation, he’d managed to convince Marianne to let him move into the student dorms. They’d spent all of Sunday getting him moved in. 

Had Atsuko not been busy, she would have helped him on Saturday. 

“I’m gonna go get some snacks,” Clement said. “Want anything?”

“Cookies,” Atsuko said, not looking up from her book. “And milk tea please.”

“I’ll take the same,” Ena said. 

Clement nodded. “Sure thing. Anything else”

Atsuko shook her head. “No, I think we’re good. Thank you, aniki.”

As soon as he left the room, the girls counted to three. When they were sure he was gone, they sighed. 

“Thanks again for helping me train,” Atsuko said. “And sorry for roughing up your dad.”

“It’s fine,” Ena assured. “You didn’t exactly leave him to the wolves and he was unharmed aside from being a little grumpy. And they found him not long after you’d hidden yourself away.” She leaned in close, smirking playfully. “So, you get the data on Team Inseki?”

Atsuko nodded. “Some of it. I managed to jump from level 12 recruit to a level 3 member thanks to the extra flair. Your level determines your level of access in the organization. Most levels 12-6 are general grunts. You wanna be in the top 5 ranks to get info and help make plans. And I learned that the candies are what make people forget about the team. They aren’t immune to mom’s tempest, so if you get some of the water into you before your adrenaline goes down, you can keep your memories without taking the second candy. And those candies taste really, really good. I’ll try to get some for analyzing. Only level 2s have access to them.”

“How long until you take full control, you think?”

“Depends on how long the organization lasts before someone slips up, but if I can hurry, I can be in complete control by the time I enter U.A.”

“Can you go faster on that?”

“I can try, but I make no promises.” Atsuko smiled, giving Ena a boop on the nose. “You really think we can change the world?”

Ena giggled. “Silly. There’s no think about it. We will.”

“And you’re sure you still want me in on your little schemes?”

“Of course. Every team needs the best healer.”

Atsuko smiled. “Thanks.”

 Icons made with this icon maker and photoshop

[poppo911]

You’ve Got Mail! (Chapter 3)

Read it on FFN here

Word count : 3000-ish

Chapter 3 – Troublemaker(s)

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To : All contacts

From : Christopher Vinther

Subject : Money Proposals

All teachers and staffs,

Please refrain from making unnecessary requests for money. Any unanticipated proposals submitted within the next two weeks will be denied. With, or without the Principal’s signature.

With the triennial accreditations ahead, a decent portion of the institution’s annual budget will be allocated for its preparation. Your understandings and supports would be truly appreciated.

Regards.

Okay, enough with the formality.

Seriously though, up to twenty six thousands centz in less than a week? What the hell! Why should I give you guys money for a shitload of pasta I did not eat? Or desks I did not break nor use? Go on destroying this school’s infrastructures and it will eventually close down even before we reach the accreditation terms.

Which means there would be less problem for me, now that I think about it.

P.s Dearest Miss Riza Hawkeye, if that lovely student of yours is keen enough to break a fire extinguisher, just like what he did last semester, I will grant you some cash just enough to refill it with lemonade iced tea. They can also put out a small fire, right?

Stay greedy for money,

Christopher Vinther

Staff, Treasurer

East Amestris Senior High School | 75 Sycamore Lane, East City

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To : Riza Hawkeye

From : Miles

Subject : Re: Money Proposals

It’s alright, Ms. Hawkeye. He also said that to me last semester when I was Edward’s homeroom teacher.

Suck up to Mr. Grumman a bit and the expense will be fully covered by the institution. You of all people would know better about his… peculiar taste.

Been there done that,

Miles

Teacher, Physics

East Amestris Senior High School | 75 Sycamore Lane, East City

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To : Roy Mustang

From : Heymans Breda

Subject : Alphonse Elric is surprisingly lovely

Before you take this mail’s subject the wrong way, I mean Alphonse is a caring, obedient student loved by his classmates, in contrast to his elder brother. Plus point, he also managed to achieve perfect score on my math pre-test.

You were right, though—three days into this, and I don’t think being a homeroom teacher is that bad.

Chess during lunch break?

Heymans Breda

Teacher, Mathematics

East Amestris Senior High School | 75 Sycamore Lane, East City

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To : Heymans Breda, Roy Mustang

From : Jean Havoc

Subject : Abort mission (continued)

So long story short,

I came to her as she was reading an online newspaper (in Dutch, my best guess) while sipping her coffee. Then I took a seat beside her. And then she eyed me curtly—hell, I hadn’t even said a thing!

Of course I was confused. After a few seconds of intense glaring, she told me, “Speak.”

So I did. I introduced myself—a little bit stuttered there coz who on earth can sit through her piercing blue eyes and stay collected?

Her response?

“Spit it out clearly. I don’t have all day to listen to your blabber.”

“Jean Havoc. P.E coach. Nice to meet you.”

“And?”

“Wha—err, you’ve got nice curves, there.”

The following events were a blur, and suddenly, I was laying on one of the beds in Knox’s room. With a cold ice pack on my crotch.

Yet Miles, who had spent years teaching in North, said that I’m apparently ‘lucky enough’ for getting ‘just that’. Well, luck my arse.

I repeat—abort mission. Those bada-boom breasts do not worth your (and your offsprings’) life.

Jean Havoc

Coach’s Aide, Physical Education

East Amestris Senior High School | 75 Sycamore Lane, East City

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To : Jean Havoc, Roy Mustang

From : Heymans Breda

Subject : Re: Abort mission (continued)

If stupidity could be expressed in graphics, yours would be graphs of exponential function y = 2^x when the base is greater than 1—smooth, continuous, and increases without bound as it approaches positive infinity.

Heymans Breda

Teacher, Mathematics

East Amestris Senior High School | 75 Sycamore Lane, East City

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To : Tim Marcoh

Cc : Yoki, Buccaneer

From : Roy Mustang

Subject : Who on their right mind refilled the chem lab’s fire extinguisher with expired lemonade iced tea???

A small-combustion-went-wrong and when we tried to put it out, it was fckn lemonade iced tea inside! Good heavens we installed automated water sprayers in the entire buildings last year in case of fire. (None was injured, fortunately.)

I’m going to make a formal request for a thorough inspection.

Drenched in water for the second time this week,

Roy Mustang

Teacher, Chemistry

East Amestris Senior High School | 75 Sycamore Lane, East City

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To : Roy Mustang

Cc : Buccaneer

From : Tim Marcoh

Subject : Re: Who on their right mind refilled the chem lab’s fire extinguisher with expired lemonade iced tea???

Sorry for the inconvenience,

I believe there has been no reinstallment for any of our fire extinguisher units recently. And considering that the last inspection was right before the winter break, whatever happened here afterwards, chances are it took place during the vacation, if that is even possible.

And yes, please proceed with the inspection. I will let the Principal know.

Regards,

Tim Marcoh

Staff, Head of the Laboratory

East Amestris Senior High School | 75 Sycamore Lane, East City

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To : Heymans Breda

From : Jean Havoc

Subject : Spring breeze had never felt this hot

Holy fuck bro, have you seen Ri’s outfit today? Mustang’s gonna regret this for his entire life if he missed the view!

Covertly admiring that suave thigh from afar,

Jean Havoc

Coach’s Aide, Physical Education

East Amestris Senior High School | 75 Sycamore Lane, East City

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To : Jean Havoc

From : Heymans Breda

Subject : Re: Spring breeze had never felt this hot

(You just never learn from past mistakes, huh?)

Beware. Ms. Armstrong could bust your nut. I bet she could do no less.

Can’t find myself disagree, though. Just make sure you don’t get caught by anyone. I mean anyone—that guy could set your ass on fire and make it looked like a small lab accident.

Heymans Breda

Teacher, Mathematics

East Amestris Senior High School | 75 Sycamore Lane, East City

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To : Roy Mustang, Tim Marcoh

From : Buccaneer

Subject : Re: Re: Who on their right mind refilled the chem lab’s fire extinguisher with expired lemonade iced tea???

Right away, Sirs.

Buccaneer

Staff, Head of Security Personnels

East Amestris Senior High School | 75 Sycamore Lane, East City

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To : Alex Louis Armstrong

From : Maes Hughes

Attachment : Elysia_photos_collaged .jpeg

Subject : Permission request for not attending your class

After a looong day of works, at last, I present you, A COLLAGE OF ELYSIA’S PHOTO COLLECTIONS! LOOK AT HOW CUTE SHE IS, ALEX!! Thee art mine life, mine every breath, little angel.

Anyway, I’m requesting permission for one of my homeroom student:

Windsor, Amadea (class of 2015)

for not being able to attend your P.E classes at least for the next two weeks due to an unfortunate accident leaving her with sprained ankle. In the mean time, could you give her written assignments instead? Thanks, Alex.

Which reminds me, have you seen Roy this morning? I know he will be busy in the lab today, but he’s not one to miss Sciezka’s Free-Brunch-Wednesday especially when quiches are involved!

I’m gonna spend the rest of the day being stuck here in my desk grading the kids’ essays. So if you managed to meet him, please inform him that today, for the first time in forever, Rizzie wore a high-slit pencil skirt to work today—bet you my monthly paycheck that he’d be way more than elated.

My heart belongs to Gracia Hughes but—deeeemn dude, those long, slender legs.

P.s The gossips regarding your sister are getting out of hand! I mean knocking Jean Havoc out in one kick? Come on!

Gracia’s hot hubby,

Maes Hughes

Teacher, English Literature

East Amestris Senior High School | 75 Sycamore Lane, East City

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To : Knox

From : Alphonse Elric

Subject : Medicication Request from Mr. Mustang

Good afternoon, Doctor Knox. I am Alphonse Elric from Mr. Heymans Breda’s class.

I was making my way to the boy’s restroom when I saw Mr. Mustang rushing to one of the stalls with drenched outfit and massive nosebleed. Miss Riza, whom he had been talking to only a few seconds before, admitted that she knew nothing beside his unfortunate water sprayer incident. He also won’t tell me the cause of his nosebleed, and told me to contact you instead to ask for some medications for him.

Does it have something to do with his beet-red face, Doctor? Since I did not see any signs of head trauma nor recent rigorous physical activity.

Best regards,

Alphonse Elric

Student, Class of 2017

East Amestris Senior High School | 75 Sycamore Lane, East City

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To : Alphonse Elric

From : Knox

Subject : Re: Medicication Request for Mr. Mustang

There’s no cure for his current nosebleed. Just tell him to shove some fabrics up his damn nostrils and stop thinking of inappropriate images of a certain coworker of him.

Coincidentally, your brother is here in my room. You might want to pay this brat a visit and give him a long-ass lecture as well.

Knox

Staff, Physician

East Amestris Senior High School | 75 Sycamore Lane, East City

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To : Edward Elric

Cc : Maria Ross

From : Riza Hawkeye

Subject : Detention Notice

The student Edward Elric will be detained during the lunch break on March 8 from 12:00 p.m until 12:45 p.m for the following reason(s):

- Mocking someone based on their racial features

- Being engaged in a physical fight resulting in mild injuries for both parties

Signed,

Riza Hawkeye

Teacher, Biology

East Amestris Senior High School | 75 Sycamore Lane, East City

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To : Ling Yao

Cc : Maria Ross

From : Riza Hawkeye

Subject : Detention Notice

The student Ling Yao will be detained during the lunch break on March 8 from 12:00 p.m until 12:45 p.m for the following reason(s):

- Intensely mocking someone based on their physical features

- Being engaged in a physical fight resulting in mild injuries for both parties

- Trespassing into the Curtis’ kitchen, consuming half of the prepared pasta and taking the rest of it home on Monday, March 6th 2017 (evidences were collected during the ongoing thorough inspection by the security personnels)

Signed,

Riza Hawkeye

Teacher, Biology

East Amestris Senior High School | 75 Sycamore Lane, East City

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To : Lan Fan

Cc : Maria Ross

From : Riza Hawkeye

Subject : Detention Notice

The student Lan Fan will be detained during the lunch break on March 8 from 12:00 p.m until 12:45 p.m for the following reason(s):

Encouraging a physical fight by being actively involved in it

Signed,

Riza Hawkeye

Teacher, Biology

East Amestris Senior High School | 75 Sycamore Lane, East City

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To : Riza Hawkeye

From : Maria Ross

Subject : Re: Detention Notice

Things are getting out of hand. Got a plan in mind?

Just got summoned to the Principal’s room for the first time in months,

Maria Ross

Teacher, School Guidance Counselor

East Amestris Senior High School | 75 Sycamore Lane, East City

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To : Riza Hawkeye

From : Eugene Grumman

Subject : To my beautiful granddaughter

My precious Queen Rizzie,

You know I support every choices you make in life, as long as you’re happy with it. That includes not majoring in organic chemistry (much to your father’s dismay), living on your own, and also teaching in the school I lead.

It saddens me to say this, but today, I couldn’t say I approve your choice of articles of clothing. Sure, they are still within the rules, and your friend Rebecca had been wearing even more revealing outfits for more than I care to count. It’s not that you look horrible in them, Honey—it’s the exact opposite. And such thing could make us men delighted, in a certain way. But no, when it comes to you, I am anything but delighted.

In the future, could you please do your old grandpa a favor and avoid wearing such clothing at all cost, both within and outside work environment?

Because I am the principal. And you will do as I say.

Lots of love,

Eugene Grumman

Principal

East Amestris Senior High School | 75 Sycamore Lane, East City

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To : Solf Z. Kimblee

From : King Bradley

Subject : Warning

Is there any reason for you skipping works for two days in a row without any notification? Are you that eager to become jobless?

King Bradley

Staff, Head of Administrative Affairs

East Amestris Senior High School | 75 Sycamore Lane, East City

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To : Alphonse Elric

From : Riza Hawkeye

Subject : Introduction

Hello, Alphonse.

I’m sure I had entered your class once before, but in case you forget, I will introduce myself first. My name is Riza Hawkeye, and I teach biology. I got your mail address from Mr. Breda, your homeroom teacher.

Don’t worry, Alphonse. I only write to tell you that I would like to discuss a few things with you regarding… your brother.

Could you please meet me after school at the teachers’ room on the third floor? My desk is at the far left (if your back is facing the hall) near the windows.

Thank you very much.

Regards,

Riza Hawkeye

Teacher, Biology

East Amestris Senior High School | 75 Sycamore Lane, East City

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To : Alex Louis Armstrong

From : Olivier Mira Armstrong

Subject : All those East City chickens are getting under my skin

Now I understand your reason for being the family’s disgrace despite having the same blood as mine running through your veins. Surrounded by these idiots doesn’t come without consequences after all.

First, that guy from the Administration Affairs who thought it was funny to joke on my first name since it is, apparently, a ‘masculine name of French origin’. If that means my name is way more masculine than the unmanly squeak he let out as I slammed his desk, I’m fine with it.

Grumman’s far-fetched goofiness is not something I like to deal with, but his secretary—Cataline? Caitlyn?—is way worse. Someone’s got to teach her proper manners to interact with someone who’s her senior by a couple of years. How did she make it to that position, anyway? Or does that old man got a disgusting affinity to low-cut blouses?

Don’t even make me start on that fuckin blond whose mouth was uglier than his face. Boy had to be reminded that his balls are not big enough to approach a stranger that way. I just wasted my two minutes I could better use for breathing peacefully yesterday.

Also that bespectacled technician who won’t let me have my bandwith yet. If only he worked faster and stop saying that lame you-just-arrived-here-today-ma’am-there’s-no-way-I-can-set-it-up-for-you-in-less-than-a-day excuse while trembling visibly as he entried my data, I would’ve had it by now. Using my smartphone for internet makes me less productive than normal.

I kinda see that old man’s reason to transfer me here—so that the accreditation board (mainly ran by the Armstrongs, yes) will ignore the fact that his school is lagging behind. Behind the North, at least.

And the worst of all—I now have to share an office with that guy? You heard my story about when I was one of the board’s members in the last triennial accreditation. The one where I got into a heated argument with a Xingese-looking teacher. Heck, I can’t even recall what we were arguing over—what I remember is his displayed ‘politeness’ during the bargaining. It was a fckn accreditation, Alex. And he conceitedly tried to make a concession. Do I also have to remind you that he did NOT do it the ‘clean’ way? Well maybe his ‘charismatic’ smile could woo most girls whose brains are smaller than their compact powder cases—but for me? It only made me want to punch him in the jaw. His smug face had been contaminating my mind ever since—and now I also have to learn that his name is Roy Mustang. And share a goddamn teacher’s room with him.

Summary: Stop making me ashamed by telling people that we’re siblings. I’d rather keep that one as low-key as possible.

Olivier Mira Armstrong

Teacher, Dutch Literature

East Amestris Senior High School | 75 Sycamore Lane, East City

Sent from mobile

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To : Maria Ross

From : Denny Brosh

Subject : I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, I just happened to be there

Do you know that Ms. Riza could be so… persuasive? I was collecting some files from the teachers’ room and accidentally (well not so accidental, I did do my job slower on purpose) overheard her conversation with a freshman. Didn’t get what they’re talking about, tho. I just knew that Edward was involved. Are they trying to blackmail that kid? Heaven knows.

Anyway, I have done making the recaps of last year’s senior students’ grades. Would you like me to print it out for you or just the softcopy will be fine?

At your service,

Denny Brosh

Staff, Administrative Affairs

East Amestris Senior High School | 75 Sycamore Lane, East City

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To : Rebecca Catalina

From : Riza Hawkeye

Subject : Your skirt gave me more trouble than Edward did

See? I told you it would be better for me to wear that you-so-called ‘boring’ trousers!

Riza Hawkeye

Teacher, Biology

East Amestris Senior High School | 75 Sycamore Lane, East City

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To be continued

Yes, Mustang’s infatuation to the biology teacher is something that everyone knows. He’s only too afraid to admit that to himself lol.

Pretty sure each places have their own rules, but here in my place, that kind of relationship between civilian coworkers is allowed as long as they are not placed in the same ‘unit’ or structural positions that would allow them to practice favoritism (for example, in fact, some of my college lecturers are married to each others). Of course I don’t mean to paint every places white with this, but let’s just assume that here, in East Amestris Senior High School, such thing is not against the rule! XD I do apologize if there’s anybody bothered with this matter…

Aaaand also this fic got more royai I initially planned. Should I apologize for that, too, being a royai trash I am?

Starting a fic is a thing. Keeping it interesting for several chapters is a whole different challenge. Your thoughts would be very appreciated for my improvements—reviewreviewreview! Do tell me if there’s any character you find OOC, or too inappropriate, or such.

Thanks for reading!

[koujakuzure]

Can I ask how you feel transgender character's being gender/sexbent?

//im on mobile so im gonna add links n stuff here in just a sec^^ EDIT: added those links in there!

absolutely! :>

Once again, I’d just like to point out that I am well aware of the very mixed opinions on this topic and that this is just my personal take on this. I am in no way saying I am right or wrong, nor am I saying that anyone else is right or wrong with this. When it comes down to it, it’s not a black-and-white subject, and I’m very open to hearing others’ opinions on this as well (as long as they’re being respectful, of course lol)!

(And if anyone reading this hasn’t read my take on gender-bending in general, please read that first. Here’s the link.)

Well, firstly… I’ve never actually heard of “gender-bending” trans characters until that whole thing with ohnips “gender-bending” Damien from Dream Daddy… Probably because there’s not much trans representation in entertainment media in the first place but… either way, it’s a new thing to me, as I’m sure it is to a lot of other people! That may have been one of the main reasons for so many people to flip out as they did when this occurred (maybe also because ohnips has had a history of making some… questionable choices before…). Maybe this has been done before but I just ended up missing that discourse and am only caught up with the ohnips discourse?? lol idk but yeah. While I don’t agree with people sending death threats and carelessly throwing around “go die"s and stuff like that… I can see why people may be upset, at the very least. Again, I’m not condoning death threats, and I think both sides were in the wrong here (except for the few that were very civil about trying to explain their thoughts on the matter), but I’m going to use this scenario in specific for most of this discussion solely because the whole concept of "gender-bending” trans characters is very new to me and this is the first time I’ve seen it happen. Hopefully people can learn from ohnips’s mistakes lol

So firstly, I can understand why people would be uncomfortable with Damien, a trans man, being turned into a woman. For one, it was a complete afterthought for ohnips to offhandedly mention that “oh yeah btw, I actually made gender-bent Damien a TRANS woman lol” only AFTER the fact that she was getting a lot of backlash from it. I can guarantee her original intentions were not to make Damien’s “gender-bend” a trans woman lol. ( x ) She also handled the overall situation VERY poorly. She used the whole “artistic freedom!1!1” excuse that many infamous artists like to use (rather than owning up to a mistake, learning from it, and genuinely apologizing) and has an overall “if u don’t like it and u think it’s offensive, too bad lol” attitude, which really doesn’t help anyone at all in this situation… ( x ) ( x ) If this were anyone else who’s actually a decent human being, I guarantee this would not have gotten as out-of-hand as it did. A lot of people look at is as “oh boy another TUMBLR discourse” which… yeah, it is. But people’s frustration with this artist is justifiable when you actually pull your head out of your ass and look at the situation itself. Yes, people took it too far. They always do. But being one of ohnips’s white knights and sticking up for her even when she IS in the wrong is just… lame. You can like someone, you can enjoy their content, and STILL acknowledge when something they’re doing is wrong. It doesn’t make you any less of a fan or supporter. It just shows that you actually have a damn functional brain in your noggin lol. Not being able to acknowledge a person’s mistakes and blindly sticking up for them is just as lame as being one of the people that can’t think of a logical argument and just wants to be an ass and tell someone to “die”. USE YOUR NOGGINS, BUCKAROOS.

Now, all nips aside:

While everyone’s free to voice their opinion on the subject… in this case, I think the opinions that matter the most are from ftm/mtf trans individuals. It’s not that anyone else’s opinions on the matter are invalid or wrong, it’s just that… these individuals’ voices on this matter are a lot more impactful than for a cisgender person to say “Gender-bending trans characters is completely fine! There’s nothing transphobic with this!” It’s the equivalent of a white person speaking on a racism issue aimed towards POC, saying “Oh that’s not racist!” Like… while you can think what you want, if you’re not a POC, you can’t speak for them… and if you’re not trans, you can’t speak for them, either… You can’t tell the trans community what they should or shouldn’t deem transphobic… That’s not how it works. Even then, the trans community already has different opinions on this, like I mentioned earlier. None of our opinions are more right or wrong than another, within reason.

In my honest opinion, I don’t actually have much of an opinion on this topic haha! When it comes down to it, really, the only one that can say whether or not “gender-bending” a particular trans character is fine or not… is up to the creator of said character. With my trans original characters, I wouldn’t want anyone “gender-bending” them, because when I create these characters, I put a part of myself into them; and I connect with my characters on a more personal level than my audience may. As a trans man, I would not want to be portrayed as a girl, even a trans a girl at that. Because I’m not a girl, and I don’t want to be associated with that image of me. It’s the same way with my characters. With my cisgender characters? Sure thing, knock yourself out; cis-swap those bitches all y'all want (as long as ur not changing the character altogether, as mentioned in my previous post about gender-bending in general)… but my ftm trans characters, my mtf trans characters, my gender fluid characters, my agender characters- they were all created for a reason: for representation. Because I don’t see them represented enough in media, and I take comfort in creating these characters I can relate to on a more personal level. I take comfort in providing these characters others can relate to on a more personal level. It’s similar to why people headcanon characters as trans, or headcanon characters as a sexuality other than heterosexual. Except this time, it’s canon representation you’re messing with here, and ya just gotta be mindful of the rest of the community and be as respectful as ya can be :’) This goes for everyone though.

Some people honestly just don’t know any better and will make mistakes by accident, not realizing it can come off as “offensive” or harmful to minority communities. You need to treat situations like these with care; explain to them civilly why what they’re doing may be wrong, and just sympathize with them rather than being immature and nasty. When you come onto someone aggressively, you’re just gonna make the situation worse. I guarantee you that lol

Sorry for the long paragraphs! I try to be as thorough as possible with controversial topics like these :’D

[shinymills]

Plague Ship

Before I lay out my last words, I want to say - I want to say that I know I deserve whats happened. We all do, for more'n a few reasons I guess. We ain't good folk. Poverty, war, famine, it'll change people ... You either learn to strip away morals and survive, or you cling to civilization and you die. Us, we survived. Till now, leastwise.

We had a pretty tidy system worked out, you see? Didn't - didn't work all the time course, not even seventy percent of it, but it worked, enough that it got me and my crew from point A to B with food in our belly, the air in our lungs, and fuel in our ship. All'a the things we needed to survive and thrive.

Whenever supplies would start running low we'd set ourselves up as a ... A, whatcha call them? Angler fish, yeah. We'd send out a nice little signal. Not always the same one though, fast way to have people catching on right there. Stuck close to the Rim when we'd be playing lure - less chance of patrols or some shit answering, playing well-meaning knights when we all fuckin know ... We *all* fuckin know anyone rescued by any of the Corporations ends up shoved into Indentured until their 'debts' is paid up. 

Shit, sorry, rambling. Hard to focus lately. Hard to stay in one line, one... One thought, you know? My head comes and it goes, I guess you could say. My crew - my crew ... They haven't been so lucky as to just - to just be having trouble with thoughts staying in lines, with their minds staying in place. Don't know yet if that means I'm the lucky one, or if ... If my luck was just shittier, cause I get to watch everyone crumble down. 

Fuck... Fuck, fuck, fuck, still rambling. Yeah. Sorry. Where was I? Oh, yeah. Lures. We was low on O2, yeah? And fuel, but O2 was the big concern. Getting anywhere don't matter much if you're fuckin dead, right? Yeah. We'd set up a distress signal to send out a basic S.O.S, powered down the auxiliary functions, and sat back to play the waiting game.

People - People think living on the edge of civilization, the rims of society, nothing but action, danger, and drawn out fights trading blasters shots and witty - witty barbs back and forth. Not so much, yeah? Lot of times, we're just waiting for someone to snap up the lure. Little tense, mostly quiet, but that would make for boring fuckin vids, right? Yeah.

Shit - Fuck, rambling. Sorry. Yeah, anyways, so we sat back and we're there waiting to see who, if anybody, gonna show up. Hours we waited there, quiet, and dark. Me and my men, we was startin’ to think maybe we was gonna have to pull up shop, try another sector or something like, when Haugh calls out all soft like that a ship's come into range.

Not a - not a *second* after he's said that we're getting hailed. Cheers us right the fuck up, cause we was all getting antsy as hell. Course we don't fuckin answer. Just let'em keep hailin away as they pull up alongside us. Isn't long at all before we're feeling the ship rumblin’ and shakin’ as the dock with us. Which is ... See it was odd thinkin’ on now, yeah. Most of'em, they hail longer, yeah. Cautious. Not them. Eager like. Fuckin eager. Should've - should've fuckin’ ... Don't matter. Don't fuckin’ matter anyway.

Me and my crew, meanwhile, we've already gotten into position on either side of the airlock and we're .... and we're - we're fuckin waiting, yeah? The minute the hatch open blasters are drawn and we're fuckin on them. Didn't put up much of a fight. No fight, none, just ... just went down like tissue paper, all four. One had - had a weapon on'em, but the other three just had medical lookin, high shit. Never seen nothin’ like it before.

Me and the crew, we was countin ourselves *so* fuckin lucky as we looked over that shit. Was obvious we'd managed to snag an honest to god Medi Ship. This haul, this *fuckin* haul, we was sure to be set for the next few months. Thought our luck had finally turned for the better. Countin - it was counting chickens before they was hatched. Yeah.

Second we stepped through the airlock we knew shit wasn't right. Remember - remember what I was saying about them blaster fights people always thinkin life on the Rim is like? What it looked like inside that ship. Couldn't see no bodies. Plenty of blood, yeah... no bodies. Should've left right then. Iverson - Iverson, young boy, maybe all of seventeen, wanted to. Only one with the sense he was. Only one with any - with any kinda sense. Was a good kid. Good kid. Didn't - he didn't ... But Haugh went callin’ him a pussy. Got some of the men laughing and, yeah, he quieted down quick enough. Should've listened - should've ... Should've left, but we was low on food, fuel.

We swept through the ship, real thorough like. Weren't sure what the hell happened, didn't want caught in the middle of some kinda mutiny or some shit. Never found any real survivors. Not - not really. Found a few bodies. Some of'em weren't right,  they didn’t look *right*. Less - the less said about that, the better. Few of'em looked like they could've been responsible for the mess outside of the airlock. All of'em wore uniforms, some of'em doctors and nurses ...those ones, they were the worst off. Someone had had a fuckin’ hate-on for them poor bastards. Rest of'em looked like the might've been security. All of'em had Corporate logo stamped on their uniforms.

Should've left right fuckin’ then. Just forgot about the haul and just ... And just tried again somewhere else. But we was fuckin’ desperate, and stupid as shit. Stupid gets you killed out here, every time, stupid gets you killed out here.

Last room we came on was ... It had hospital bed, yeah. Only living thing left in that ship, near as we could tell, and he was dead to the fuckin world. Had a little nametag on his shirt that read Moore. Strapped to the bed, straps across his fuckin stomach, and ankles, wrists, and lookin like he was off playin’ out in the stars. There was charts on the wall, X-rays and shit. Bunch of medical mumbo jumbo. Couldn't make heads or tails of any of it. Haugh put a bullet in his head. Pissed Iverson off ... He was a good kid, good kid. Haugh just said he was dead either way. Weren't wrong. 

We didn't waste time getting everything we needed back our ship. Place was - it was just ... We was fucking stupid. So fuckin’ stupid. Just - should've just left. Fresh air was fucking amazing though, let me tell ya.  And the food we got from them. That fuckin’ food, man. It was - it was just ... Fresh fruit. Iverson, he'd never even fucking seen a fruit that weren't dehydrated first. That boy was damned near cryin’ when he took his first bite of a pear. Juicy, yeah? Crunchy ... With - with the sweet drippin’ juice, and he said it was the best fuckin’ thing, yeah. Best fuckin’ thing. We ate their food, breathed their air, and tried to forget that ship.

Fuck, shit. Sorry. My mind it wants… it doesn't like lines, straight lines so much. Anymore. Moments, sometimes it gets hard to make it stay in the line, it wants to stray, lead away. But I've got to finish what I'm fuckin’ saying. For me. My men. So fuck that.

Week or so on, we're on our way to greener pastures. Love that saying. Ain't nothing green to be seen out in this darkness. Always liked that sayin’ though. S'nice. Yeah. Bigger and better things, maybe. Different, at least. We've done forgot about that Medi Ship, out of sight out of - out of mind. Yeah. 

Two weeks in and Iverson accused Haugh of trying to steal his thoughts, trying to - to worm his way into his mind. Said he only did what he did because Moore told him to. That the only way to keep Haugh out of his head was to go and - and drill straight into the man's fuckin skull. Iverson was - he was a kid, and him ... Him doin’ somethin like this threw us all for a fuckin’ loop. Fucking crazy. 

Sometimes people's just too good, can't handle the things we’ve gotta do to survive. Me - I figured Iverson still ... I figured he was still pissed at Haugh about shooting that Moore guy like he did. Fuckin’ stupid lookin back now, yeah. So, so fucking stupid. Only thing that made sense at the time though. Yeah.

Didn't know… wasn't sure what to do with him. Didn't want to space him. Some of the crew did, yeah. He went and drilled a goddamned hole in a man's head. And my crew… Can't blame them. But he was a good kid, didn't wanna do that. Tied him up, stuffed him in the Med Bay. Figured ... I figured he'd be safe enough there. Just keep him there till we could figure things out.

Two days after that - just, two fucking days, I walked in the Med Bay to find Ricks, our half assed drunk of a doc, tryin' to fillet Iverson. I say tryin’ cause... He ain't never had the steadiest of hands. Always drunk. But he had a surgical saw in hand, and he'd been - he must've been at it for a while, cause ... Cause most of that boy's left leg was gone. He was still alive, but he weren't - he weren't ... Only reason it went on for so long was cause he weren't screaming. When I walked in Iverson was just watchin’ him. He looked so, so fucking calm. Like it was what was supposed to be happenin’. 

Iverson, he didn't last much longer after that. He never screamed though ... He looked so fuckin calm the entire time. So goddamned calm. Ricks ... They asked him why the fuck they did that. He weren't even friends with Haugh. We all thought, everybody thought ... Just figured it was him getting back. Angry, and getting back. Hard. Yeah. But he goes and says that it was on account of Moore tellin’ him that he had to start getting ready for the winter.

I don't know what to fuckin’ do. Crew's wanting to space'em, cause fuckin Christ, he just carved that boy up. And I'm - I’m wanting to, too. I ain't too proud to admit I was fuckin scared ... Confused. Didn't know what…  didn't what to do. And Moore again. Moore. Don't understand it. We space Ricks. Don't even have to drag him, he just - he just walks. Keeps goin’ on about how he's ready for winter, and not to worry on up until Singh shoves him in. It's not a relief seeing him sucked out the airlock. Should've - it should've been. It ain't.

Three days after that, my first mate, Vorster, he, I find him in the armory with Singh. He's got ... Singh is on his back, willing like. Just watching the ceiling, smilin’, and - and Vorster is wrist-deep in the man’s stomach. Got - he's got some of his ... Some of his fuckin insides pulled outside, and somehow, I don't fuckin’ understand it, but Singh is still alive and smilin’, and lookin so fucking happy to be there. Minute I walk in they both look at me. Same time. Just stare. Vorster keeps moving his hands around inside Singh's stomach before pullin’ out this loop of the man's intestines and - and he, Singh - he helps and I can't help it, I throw up. I've seen some shit, but that was... It weren't right. 

Afterwards, I'm questioning Vorster and he's tellin’ me all about how Moore had told him and Singh that he had to help Singh dig some kinda - some kinda sickness out of him. Singh's dead, course. There ain't ... Just ain't no comin' back from that. Ain't. Can't ask him. But he looked so…  he looked so fuckin’ happy, and I don't know what to fucking think. Vorster gets spaced. Shoved out the airlock. 

Keeps happening. One after the other. My crew. My men. They just keep going after each other, mostly like they're - like they're willing like. One or two put up a fight. Damned good fight. Me. Me, I stick to my cabin now. Just ... just stay in my cabin. Some fuckin’ captain I am. Hiding in my own ship like a fuckin’ stowaway. I can hear Davidson, I think it's Davidson, outside my door sometimes. Talkin about fuckin’ Moore. I don't listen though. I don't. Ain't gonna fuckin listen. 

If I do, if I do, got my gun right beside me. Ready to open a new hole in my head. Yeah. I just ... This ain't me seekin’ no kinda forgiveness,  no atonement. Don't regret my life, don't regret - don't regret a damned thing I've ever done, 'cept one. Should've left that fuckin ship. Minute we saw what was in there, should've fuckin left and never looked back. 

And Moore, I tell him that, and he… He says I’m right. We probably should’ve turned right around. Left. But he’s awful glad we stopped.

[nctzenboiii-blog]

NCT Taeyong’s Ideal Type (Thorough)

*second* *post*: im going to do their ideal types *separately* so i can be specific as mf possible. okay? so imma start with my bias *Taeyong* aka ty track aka the reason why i cant focus on my education (i mean how the heck are you even gonna function after baby don’t stop??) i chose to write taeyong first as i feel like i know his the most (stalker alert) but dw i will be posting others as well. *disclaimer*: their ideal types are most likely not going to matter that much because i guarantee everyone has liked someone completely out of their type and ideal types change all the time, i’m pretty sure NCT as a whole are wise enough to be with someone even if they aren’t 100 percent their type…with that said lets get on to the actual ideal type part. oh one last thing (i’m sorry) though i will definitely be mainly using facts from interviews and what fans asked them etc, i will be somewhat putting my personal opinion in this as i dunno, i don’t want to give a half assed attempt but dw i will say when its my personal view so lets actually get on with this! in terms of *appearance* he said he would like someone who is healthy, has short hair and he also stated in an interview that “i think people are mostly attracted to (faces that) the opposite of how they look” even saying that “i don’t really like my face shape, and my gaze is scary” so judging by his words, i feel as though he would prefer someone with softer features that looks calm and maybe even delicate as in comforting? hope that makes sense. lol he did say in baby don’t like it that he wants the girl to cosplay snow white which now thinking about it has soft features and short hair (wow). he also would like someone with a good fashion sense, i personally don’t think he necessarily means what everyone else is wearing but someone with the confidence to pull off something that they personally enjoy and like as i feel as though he tends to stray in that direction as well as it’s the person who makes the outfit not the other way around. in terms of height, though he hasn’t stated anything about it, i don’t think it’s an important factor to him though he may have a *slight* preference to people with an average cuz on functionality but i seriously do not think he would care. now this part should be taken with a grain of salt (which my tan loving self has come face to face with) yes, he does prefer fair skin, he said in that interview with the initial NCT U’s interview with Heechul that he is jealous of Jaehyun’s ‘white’ skin and how he likes snow ‘white’, he even made a compliment in angel about the girl having ‘white legs’ also i feel. this makes sense since Korea is a fair skin loving country and obviously it will rub off on him. now i definitely do not believe Taeyong would say no to someone that’s not on the fair side at all because like i said before NCT is a global group, he has shown to be very accepting to people that aren’t Korean which is evident by his closeness to the rest of the band plus he seems very interested in other places, i see he listens to western songs, he remembers greetings from Indonesia, Malaysia, japan etc so don’t over think on that part, we all know Taeyong ain’t like that, its just a preference. now in terms of *personality* he wants someone mature and not in the stereotypical idea of mature but someone who is accepting of lee Taeyong, the guy who he himself has said is extremely shy so you should be direct in wanting to become closer to him or other wise its just going to end up no where i mean give him a little push and reassure him that what he is doing is okay so he doesn’t have to worry as i feel as though he wants a relationship which surrounds the idea of both comfort and acceptance oh and i guess patience cuz oml this boy will take him time. i feel as though pressure is what would be the downfall in the relationship as evident of the ‘i thought of my sister while making whiplash’ he doesn’t do well when a person is continuously asking a question he himself isn’t comfortable to answer especially when it makes the atmosphere awkward. remember when i said acceptance is also key to the relationship well with acceptance it means you need to respect him and vise versa which is evident that he can do so cuz he is practically the mother of the group. he has stated he has mysaphobia and he is a leader which means he wants things a certain way, i’m not saying he wants a girl that only does as he says (judging by whiplash and baby don’t like it he seems like the submissive type so ya know dominance and a bad thing i guess) he just wants someone that is mindful of his wishes and makes an effort to not be a slob. he has also stated that he wants someone he can learn from which makes sense since he is an idol who wants to make his teammates, company and fans proud, being able to grow into a better and more knowledgeable person would be a huge importance to him and NCT is a global group so he will have to continuously be strong enough to handle this and if his girl is backing him up then nothing will stop him! confidence also appears to matter because he can understand what is right and wrong in the relationship and also show his weird otaku self (if you get the reference, you’re amazing) to you because if you two are both shy then i don’t think their would be much bonding because you don’t talk about anything to be able to bond. oh and also i do believe he would like a direct person when flirting as it was mentioned by mark when Jungwoo said he wants Taeyong for his birthday. you would probably be the romantic one in the relationship. i genuinely do believe he is a masochist cuz that boy in both baby don’t like it and whiplash is also about receiving umm…ya know…anyway, i feel like you would have to take charge in the relationship. i believe he enjoys compliments but not of shallow things like his face (even though his face is perfect like wow) i mean on what he is passionate about like acknowledging him cleaning the place up well and is thankful of that or appreciating the food he cooks. oh and i forgot to mention, though he would like a sweet person, i do believe he wouldn’t really like a very cute person as he tends to show a cringed reaction towards it like in the cherry bomb era where he was (half joking, half kinda serious) on being annoyed with all the stuff the group said of wanting love or something like that. i don’t think it would be a turn off but if it was excessive he would have more of a negative reaction to it. anyways, hope that helps!