#one of the girls in my writing class last year was indian and her stories talking abt it were always great? so thats a good sign

[silverislander]

ok i just finally finished lagoon. ohhh my god i am so excited to discuss this in class

[brellhal96]

It’s... pretty complicated

Summary: College dramas in the life of a third-year student who decides to start, not a relationship, but something with a renowned professor.

Okay the GIF is not very related to the subject, but this man dressed in black has me at his feet.

Notes: This is quite cliché actually, but what does it matter, it is worth dreaming. It is planned to be written in several chapters, so the first is mostly to give context to the story, I hope you like it.

I base myself on Loki's physique, although I will mention Tom Hiddleston as the star of the scene, but my perfect image is in the essence of Loki in a black suit.

I study a completely different area to numbers and physics, don't be rigorous with me on the subject, only I think it an excellent area to show Loki's personality, I do not know why.

I will show at the beginning of the series a somewhat possessive relationship, but with the outcome I promise to shape this. It should be noted that not in a toxic sense.

I didn't mention a specific university, country, or geographic location.ical location.

It's the first time I've written anything obscene, I hope you like it.

Precautions: 18+, mention of fear or anxiety, unprotected sex, a relationship at the beginning somewhat possessive.

CHAPTER 1

I NEVER SAID I WASN'T INTERESTED.

Notes: Okay this chapter is kind of weird honestly, I didn't really put so much emphasis on the obscene, but I feel like it ended up fine, I hope you like it.

Word count: 6389

You had gotten used to the hot weather of the beginning of the year, in fact you had always preferred that climate. You spent the summer with your parents on a beach, sometimes you missed them too much, but your father's job and the university of your dreams were right at the opposite ends of the country. The first year was quite complicated, but then you got used to living alone, you actually lived two blocks from campus so your bike was the perfect means of transportation.

You made some friends here, Jared had become your best friend, his bond of trust scared you a bit as you could tell him anything without fear, but it was quite comforting to have someone like that by your side.

You had earned a scholarship for academic excellence, your studies were your priority since you were a child and you loved that. The only unpleasant thing about this scholarship is that it restricted your choice of teachers in half of your subjects since you were supposed to be with “teachers of excellence”.

When you compared your subject strip to Jared and Diane, they only shared one class the three of them together, Diane another, and Jared two more. In the end you weren't going to be alone in all the classes so that calmed you a little, studying physics wasn't so complicated, it was easy for you, but socializing wasn't much for you.

You went to building C, your first class was analytical mechanics and later thermodynamics, the teacher in the second was assigned to you by the institute, a Doctor Hiddleston, you've never heard of him, you just hoped it wasn't a headache. Your mechanics teacher was a love and with the first class you knew it was going to be one of your favorite subjects.

When you finished you went to your other class, you sat right in the middle in the third row, several were in groups apparently with their friends from previous years. You took your computer and got ready to take notes. Suddenly the door closed tightly and everyone sat a little scared.

A very good-looking man came in, tall, thin and dressed completely in black, I honestly he caused you curiosity why for some reason you felt that you had seen him before.

Without seeing the class began to write on the board quickly "I am Professor Tom Hiddleston and I will teach the subject of Thermodynamics" His voice was strong and deep and you immediately recognized it. You frowned when you remembered last year's science fair, you won first place in the area of electromagnetism prototypes against a fourth-year kid, which made you feel completely proud, yet two of the judges had not been what we call nice to the two.

When you remembered Professor Hiddleston's deep look at you that day, the judges asked random questions to the fourth-year kid and you, but apparently your future thermodynamics teacher was one of those who enjoyed making students nervous with difficult questions. His sidekick on that occasion was your freshman professor, analytic geometry, Professor Scott Lawford a fucking genius, you had cried with his subject, but passed with an A +.

They both enjoyed seeing the nerves invading you and your opponent, whispering to each other with their answers. At one point Professor Hiddleston asked you and you remember perfectly well that when you finished speaking he only looked at you and smiled mockingly for then wrote something on his ballot. In the end you won by three points of the total vote and the fourth year boy, currently fifth, became your friend, both came to the same conclusion, the two teachers were crazy.

He began to write down on the board the evaluation and the issues that are always mentioned at the beginning of the year. For a moment you panicked when he wrote that one of the exams was oral, you could not imagine the martyrdom he would create just to get a passing grade.

He took 20 minutes to explain and let us out to start the next class with the course. When you came out unintentionally you stared at him while he was erasing the blackboard, but apparently your look was uncomfortable enough for him that for a second he turn and he stared at you, you rushed out of the classroom after that. When you told Jared about this future journey that you had to go through you felt immense despair, but then you remembered that, if you could the previous years with teachers equal or worse to him, this was only one step more.

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

The first three weeks of class were pretty normal, you made two more friends and breakfast in the cafeteria with Jared and Diane made you forget about the pressures of school, but just the moment you felt like you were fitting in perfectly with your new year, the thermodynamics class became strange.

The classes with Tom were very pleasant, he was kinder than his body language showed, only he was certainly of a very volatile character, there were days when he seemed angry and others when he seemed happy, it was weird, but it was even weirder that you were attracted to him.

Your previous class had lasted longer than expected and the teacher extended 5 minutes out of her time which translates into being late for thermodynamics. You panicked when you saw the locked door of the classroom, wondered if it was better not to enter the class and pretend a headache straight to the infirmary, but in the end you breathed for a second and you'd decided get ready to knock the door.

“Can I help you with something?"You had never noticed that he was quite tall, it was the first time you were quite close to him.

"Sorry my mechanics teacher accidentally spread...”

"You were able to leave her class to get to mine on time, don't you think?"His gaze was quite penetrating up close.

“I really sorry, won't happen again,” Your hands were shaking, but in reality, not for fear, but his presence so formal, so rigid and secure made you feel strangely attracted to him, when you thought that, you actually invaded the shame, how do you fall in love of a teacher as strange as him.

He just opened the door and walked aside to let you through. "I asked them to work in pairs, look for your partner and ask him to explain what I already explain”

On the board were written several formulas, you wondered how he managed in 7 minutes to score so much.

You asked several guys over there, but apparently the whole damn world already had a partner, in the end you decided to do it alone, you just hoped he wouldn't flunk you for it. A girl explained the instructions to you, apparently you had to pick up one of the sheets that the professor had placed on the desk and solve it with the formulas on the blackboard, you even had to sit up to the top rows because all the other seats were occupied.

You started cursing internally while taking one of the paper sheets from the desk. "Who are you going to work with?"The professor asked you without seeing you while making notes with a rather nice pen of Indian ink.

"I'll do it alone, I already asked ... ”

"Don't you understand what couples are?"He interrupted you and this time he gave you a rather intimidating gaze.

"Yes, but apparently all my companions already have one and I figured I could do it alone then" Your hands trembled again with the paper sheet between them.

"Who doesn't have a partner?"he looked back at his papers and yelled at the whole group. It was pretty funny for you because he himself proved you were right, no one was missing a partner. When he looked up and saw that no one answered he saw you again and then looked at the blackboard behind his back.

"Well, I'll do it with you then" He got up and brought a chair that was at the end of the living room for you right next to his desk.

For a moment you wanted to run out of there, you knew you shouldn't make a mistake or say something stupid because otherwise you'd die trying.

"Get your stuff and start working it out, just let me finish a few things. To be fair with your colleagues and with you I will let you do it alone and answer any doubts you have, because obviously I know how this is solved, but I also consider that it is a lot of work for one person, do you agree?" His gaze became a little kinder.

"Yes, thank you,” you smiled faintly, but felt an internal shock as he winked at you and continued to write with his fine pen. You sat right in the corner of his desk, they were just three problems but they really left you with little desire to live. The first one, you felt was quite easy to solve, even at one point you felt the professor's gaze on you when you were so focused on your operations.

"Don't you have any doubts?"His eyebrows were puckered and his gaze was no longer mocking but rather with bona fide interests.

"No, not really, well I go in the second exercise, possibly I do" You smiled as you watched your operations with inner pride.

"Can I see?"He extended his hand to give him the leaves you had carried until then. You gave them to him, just hoping he'd tell you you had everything terribly wrong.

As he watched your leaves you watched him, he was quite attractive now that you saw him without fear that he would not let you into class, his hair was dark and apparently a lover of black to wear, his eyes were cute and quite tender while they examined your answers.

"Go on, I don't want to confuse you” He put the paper sheets on the desk and saw you with a small smile on your lips as a sign that you were on the right track.

Just 10 minutes before the class ended you finished all three exercises, you had only asked him one question and it was about whether it was a 4 or a 9 in a formula that wrote the board, so you felt pretty happy that you did it alone.

"Ready" You smiled broadly, you were the first to finish and the only one who had done it alone.

"Are you sure?”

"Yeah, well, I hope it's not a 0 at the end of the day,” you laughed to yourself, and in the end you wondered if you had thought about it or said it.

”Then let's see " took his pen and began to review your work. You froze when you saw that he framed something in your results, but he didn't tell you anything. "Well, I really didn't expect less from the winner of last year's science fair, maybe punctuality, but what does it matter”

You smiled when you saw that your grade was an A, only that he kept the papers, apparently he had to register them on his lists or something. Just as you were about to get up to leave, he asked you to stay at the end of class.

You sat back in the seats vacated by the peers that have already gone, but for a second, remembered what you said I didn't expected less from the winner of the science fair last year, he remembered you, you know that he remembered you, sonreíste for yourself when thinking that.

When the whole room was half empty, he started putting away his things. ”Come with me, " he said as he walked out with a firm and fast pace, so much so that you had to walk faster than normal. You wondered where they were going, it was pretty strange since you'd never been through the labs where it went.

“I've noticed that you're pretty good in the area, actually amazing, I even remember your answers about your prototype against the fourth year kid, former student of mine, you were much better than his” he opened the door of one of the labs and with his arm gave you a signal to enter.

“Thank you, I actually always dreamed of doing this, " you said as you walked into the lab, quite big, you assumed they were the ones that grad boys used.

"I want to propose you something” You sat at one of the practice tables and he leaned with both hands on his desk. "Would you like to work with me on a project I have?, is related to thermodynamics”

For a second you saw him with an expression of if he was joking with you or if he was serious and he seemed to read your mind.

"It's seriously, I'm working on a model related to the second law" he approached you sitting in the chair in front of yours.

"I would love to then, but I do not know how I could be of help”

"In many things" he smiled

For a moment you wondered why suddenly the man who seemed bitter about life was being so kind to you.

“You do not have to tell me your answer now, I will send you the files I have of my progress by mail if you like and you could think about it”

"Sure, I will" You smiled and he too, for a moment everything was silent, somewhat uncomfortable to be honest but his look no longer caused you fear, but somehow attracted you to him.

It was quite strange because they both got up at the same time so you were right next to him and his height difference was no small one.

"Well I think I have to go, I'll see you the next class”

"Wait, I wanted to give you something that I kept here," he went to the back cellar of the lab and came back with a bun that said first place. "I'm sorry, I was supposed to give it to you that day you won, but I honestly didn't remember where I left it, so this belongs to you.”

When you saw the bun with your name on it, you were very happy. "I thought they didn't give anything," you laughed as you put it in your backpack.

"Yeah, excuse me, I tend to be a little clueless about those things.”

"No problem," you smiled and shyly walked out of the room.

The weekend you started to question why Professor Hiddleston made you feel so nervous, now you knew that you were one of his star students, to the degree that you could be his future colleague, but why couldn't you even hold his gaze? you know, for a moment you thought about flatly refusing his project if you couldn't even see it in the eyes, but after you thought about it, you figured it would possibly be a good idea, you could even learn more things by being his apprentice.

It was Monday's class, you didn't know why, but you were in the lab on Friday, apparently you were doing an experiment on the tables with some microscopes on. ”You did it " There was Professor Hiddleston next to you, his command was on your waist and suddenly he began to approach you to kiss you on the lips and it was even stranger because it was quite nice for you, to reciprocate.

Right then you woke up, you're fucking in love with your thermodynamics professor, "Excellent Y / N, that's all that was missing."

Monday's class didn't even look him in the eye and you sat up to the top rows, you felt pretty uncomfortable with yourself thinking of a teacher that way.

"Y / N wait" Just when class ended you rushed to pack your things and run out of the classroom, but it still didn't work. "Did you think about what I told you?"The professor actually looked pretty excited about his own project.

"Yes, I just wondered if the meetings or the times we work could be on Fridays, that would make things a lot easier for me" You said without seeing the professor in the eyes, it was somewhat uncomfortable after that strange dream of the weekend.

"Sure, then it's a deal,” he held out his hand as if they were going to close the deal with a strong squeeze.

"Deal" You shook his hand and when you saw him you felt that his look was not only kind, but he was actually trying to tell you something.

The classes went on normally, you felt a little excited being sincere that you went to work with the professor who was now at the same time your impossible love, but you had to be careful for him not to notice. They agreed to meet after your last class at the lab on Fridays, at 15:00 hours. You knew it wasn't right, but from the moment you were attracted to the professor every time you saw him, you started using lip gloss and curling your hair.

For several weeks they worked on their project, now you understood their sudden mood swings, it was quite frustrating to feel that you had advanced in something and then realized that something did not fit with the rest of the procedure.

One Friday when you arrived he was making notes on the blackboard, had taken off his coat and tie and folded the sleeves of his shirt in a way that looked spectacularly attractive.

"Y / N pass," he smiled when he saw you in the driveway. "Did you read the documents I sent you?"On Wednesday he sent you a very interesting document about some theories related to the project.

"Yes, I just made some notes from some parts that I honestly didn't understand" You left your backpack in one of the buckets at the ends of the room " I'm not very good at some things”

"Neither do I, but don't worry,” he winked at you and you felt like you were melting internally.

For an hour they tried to solve one of the most difficult equations within the theory they chose, it was quite fun as sometimes you would collapse and sometimes he, but both tried to cheer up so as not to erase the whole slate of despair.

”Ready," you said when you finally managed to solve the equation.

”You did it!" saw the board quite surprised and so did you. "Your boyfriend is lucky" For a second he himself kept quiet knowing that the last thing he said wasn't quite right.

"Boyfriend? that species is extinct within my social radar" You laughed trying to keep him from feeling uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that." He saw you trying to analyze your expression.

"Well sometimes the unconscious makes us a bad move" You smiled broadly "besides I guess the lucky one is his girlfriend" you returned the same move trying to tempt the ground.

"It's also an extinct species to me," he smiled, but he avoid your gaze.

"Well, then we're free to go looking for it.”

"I thought you had a boyfriend," he said as he started writing the equation on the board on the computer.

"Why?"you sat at the desk, watching him write on the computer quite nervous.

"Nothing else" You knew he was lying to you.

"Nothing else?”

"Well you're a very cute and smart girl, I figured a lot of guys are interested in you.” He didn't even look you in the eye when he said that.

”I'm not really interested in anyone" You saw through the window as you answered" well, only in someone, but it's impossible” Oh God, now the unconscious had made the wrong move to you talking too much.

”Nothing is impossible" he looked up and seemed to know what you meant.

"Well, it's just that if I just had a sign I could know it's not impossible" You started fiddling with your wrist bracelet nervously.

"How what a sign?" he stopped writing and stood right in front of you, you were still sitting at the desk.

"I don't know" You felt the adrenaline start to accelerate your pulse as it approached you.

"A date, a kiss, or even invite you to work on a project?" He placed his hands on the edge of the desk rubbing your legs.

”Yes, that sounds good " Clearly you knew what he meant, his look and yours were fixed, you appreciated that the door was closed and it was the third level, the windows were facing nowhere, so no one could see what was happening.

"Well sometimes it is necessary that you also give signals, don't you think?" His gaze and yours really seemed to be completely fixed.

"Yeah, that sounds fair." You started breathing deeper.

Slowly, he tempting the ground, began to approach, for a moment you knew that this was not right, that it was not right, but fuck, your body wanted it as you have no idea. Slowly he started to kiss you, he was nice and actually a very good kisser, then he started to get a little rougher, but both you and he knew you wanted him, his arm held your hip and your hands hugged his neck holding on to him.

"Dr. Hiddleston, I bring the copies you ordered." Someone knocked on the door and immediately the feeling of running out overwhelmed you.

"Sure, I'm coming" saw you and he wiped the lip gloss you had left on him. You packed your stuff fast and when I was going to close the door again you walked out without seeing him in the face.

"Until Monday" You started walking fast.

"Y / N wait" was the last thing you heard when you started going down the stairs two at a time.

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

You, Diane and Jared planned to go out that weekend, you weren't feeling well, but you also didn't want to leave them after you had planned this for days.

"Hey, you look pale," Jared saw you worried as they waited for food at the mall.

"Do you feel well Y/N?" Diane picked up a lock of your hair as you looked at nothingness.

”I'm a little worried," you said looking at the table now  "Can I ask for some advice?”

”You know you can Y/N" Jared saw you even more worried.

"What should I do if I like someone I shouldn't like?" Dress up Jared.

"Does he have a girlfriend or is he a fuck boy?" Diane asked pretty quickly.

"None, it's just...”

”Then I see no reason why you shouldn't like it."

”It's not that, but, he's like, I don't know how to say this" You didn't want to tell them that he was your thermodynamics professor, you would never actually do it. "I met him some time ago in the cinema, he's cute and kind to me, but he's older than me” you lied a little about it.

"How much are we talking about?”

"14 years, I think" you've never actually asked him about his age, but on one occasion while you were typing on his computer you saw his college professor card that had all his data on it by the way.

”Look at that, my best friend a whole league men" Diane actually got excited, started asking you what he was like and if you had already had something with him which was pretty strange, but Jared's expression wasn't really emotional.

"I can only tell you to be very careful Y/N" Jared took your hand " Do not let the pretty words lead you down a path other than the one you seek. And well, if he like you and you like him, I see no problem”

The weekend you thought about the kiss his gave, it was quite nice really nice, you had only had three boyfriends before and honestly their kiss had been better than all the previous ones. The problem was what were you going to do on Monday when you see him? Well that day you decided to wear a pink dress that your mother given you at Christmas, you never wore this type of clothes so it was going to be something quite new, you combed your hair differently even, you knew that if you were at least going to talk to him and he told you that it was a mistake he would miss something great.

Your legs started shaking when you walked into the classsroom, you sat as usual in the third row, Tom wasn't there yet, so that calmed you down a little more. You noticed that in this class you had not made friends, so to avoid the panic of seeing him in the eyes when he entered in the classroom you preferred to start talking to the girl who always sat next to you.

"He took a while, didn't it?" you smiled so you didn't look crazy.

"Yes something, but for me no problem" the girl smiled as well

"My name is Y / N, and you?”

"Meghan, you're going with the teacher Fox in relativity, aren't you?”

"Yeah, you too?”

"No but my boyfriend does, I've seen you come out of there when I expect it”

"Well, I don't really know many people.”

"Well, college is exhausting," they both smiled, actually Meghan seemed like a pretty nice girl.

"Speaking of the king of Rome, he's arrive." When she said that and you heard the door shut, fear invaded you, so you didn't look at him. You just focused on your computer monitor, but you knew he saw you.

The class felt as if it had lasted 20 minutes and not an hour and a half, the desire to leave was enough.

"Hey if you want we could have breakfast together today, apparently you don't have class now either, do you?" Meghan waited for you to put your things away.

"Of course I would love to and no, I don't have class” You fully appreciated that Meghan will not leave you in the classroom, without looking at Tom you went out with your new friend, you felt that had been a bit cruel, but the nerves were worse.

At the end of the day you didn't do anything about it and neither did Wednesday and apparently Tom wasn't interested in asking you to stay and talk either, or so it seemed.

On Friday you returned to the usual routine with the usual clothes and hairstyle, honestly you no longer felt in the mood to waste time on those things. The class went on normally until at one point you crossed eyes with him, it was a bit strange, but you pretended you didn't care and ignored him after a few seconds. At the same time in the classes you talked with Meghan, even going out to eat the cafeteria.

"Y/N can we talk for a second?"Back to being alone with him in the classroom at the end, Meghan said goodbye and whispered you in your ear that she will waiting for you in the cafeteria.

"Hey I didn't want to overdo you, let alone bother you, I apologize for it and also if you no longer want to work on the project I will fully understand it” His face seemed that he was really sorry about last week.

"I really don't know what to say." You were completely honest.

"I'm sorry I should have known that you're not interested in me at all and it's okay”

"I never said I wasn't interested”

He calmly checked the hallway and closed the classroom door

"You ran away, that tells me otherwise”

"Yes, but that's was I panicked, I didn't want to bother you”

"For God's sake, that doesn't matter anymore.”

"It does matter and quite”

"You want to talk about this then?”

"Yeah, I'm sorry I didn't do it sooner”

"So am I, excuse me too” he hesitated for a second when he finally asked," Do you want to continue with the project?”

"Of course I do" You got a little closer to him.

"See you at 15: 00 then" He too approached and carefully kissed your hand to leave the classroom.

This time you arrived early, your teacher had let them out forty minutes earlier, so you decided to be somewhat punctual to your appointment. You read while you waited sitting on the chairs in the hallway, when you saw him come you smiled and he when saw you, smiled too.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think you were going to arrive so early” he closed the door carefully and just as he turned around you gave him a pretty long kiss and he reciprocated broadly.

"I'm sorry" You saw that he was actually happy about it "I think last time we couldn't finish it"

He held your face in his hands for a few seconds "I like you Y/N, I know what's not right, I know this not right, but fuck, I like you a lot”

”And you me" He kissed you again, this time a little rough, it seemed that he wanted to make his statement clear. ”I really wanted to kiss you in front of everybody on Monday in that cute dress."

"If you like it I can bring it more days," you winked.

After that day working on the project was much more fun, and even in the classes they shared gazes from time to time, it felt good, had passed enough time that you did not date someone. On the other hand, sometimes fear invaded you, you knew that if anyone found out about whatever it was you and Tom had, it was the end of your scholarship and even your college life.

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

"Do you like lobster?"He asked you while making notes on the computer and you cleaned the board.

"I've never eaten it"

“What? How can you live without eating lobster in your life?" He came up to you and, holding you by the waist, turned you towards him.

"Well, we're not all millionaires so I can't buy lobster." You inadvertently smeared chalk in his hair when you touched him.

"Then I'll buy you lobster dinner. What do you say?" He caressed your face as he waited for your answer

"Mmmm, when?”

"Tomorrow, I'd wait a few blocks from here, you don't want anyone to see you getting in my car, do you?”

"I'd love for them to, but yes, send me the instructions and I'll see you there then.”

"Why would you love it?"He kissed your neck calmly.

"That they might see that you are mine" You smiled mockingly.

"Well, I mean you're mine too, so it would be a fair deal.”

For weeks now both were texting, it was interesting to see that teachers also have a life apart from teaching.

You dressed up, not so formal or so casual for the occasion, it was the first date you had, it felt a little strange, you wore on a low-cut black dress, something daring for your tastes, but it was the most suitable thing you found. When you arrived at the rendezvous point, you immediately identified his car.

“I can't believe how perfect you are, " he gave you a sweet kiss while you fixed your skirt so it wouldn't wrinkle. He came as always very formal.

The dinner was perfect, you did not know that the lobster tasted that way, you liked it a lot, the place was beautiful, the waiters very attentive and well, talking with Tom about things that were not thermodynamics was pleasant. In the end he invited you to his apartment, which you sincerely hoped was not just with the intention of kissing you.

When they arrived his apartment looked like a palace, it was very nice, very cozy, his kitchen was comfortable enough to cook anything, your apartment was too small for a kitchen like him.

He told you that he should make some calls, that you could explore the house if you wanted and you took his word, it was very nice place, in the hallway to the bedroom had his medals and recognitions, you did not know that he studied chemistry too, he's a genius. When you finished walking, you looked in the fridge for something to drink.

"Want some wine?"Because of its height it was much easier to reach the shelves above where it seemed to have the bottles of wine.

”I would love to"

He served two glasses in half, it was red wine with a very good smell, you knew it because your father was a wine lover, so much so that he had even taken you to vineyards to see how they did it.

"May I?"You asked, pointing out if you could play something on the record player in the room.

“Clear”

When yo put the pen on the record a fairly quiet song began to play, he took the cup out of your hand and put it on the ledge next to his, placed his hand on your waist and with the other he held your hand, you placed yours on his neck.

“Would you laugh if I told you it's the first time I've danced with someone? well, that someone who is not my father invites me to dance”

"Really?”

"Yeah, well I had a boyfriend that I took out to dance, that's why it doesn't count,” you laughed as you remembered that.

"Well, what an idiot, you are beautiful Y/N and I will dance with you as many times as possible”

You felt a lot of peace in his arms, he was much stronger than you, that was clear, but even just seeing him in the eyes you felt that everything was going to be okay. You weren't very good at dancing, but he gave you the confidence to even make a mistake.

For a moment he began to kiss you slowly, slowly while the music echoed to both of us, then he began to kiss your neck which in a way tickled you, but at the same time made you want it with all your soul. After a few seconds as his hands ran through your hips and yours his hair whispered into his ear: "Take me to the bedroom" you stared at him and he understood completely.

He carried you so easily that it seemed that you did not weigh anything, carefully put you in bed and wait for you reaction.

"For God's sake, I want to make you mine from the moment I saw you at that fucking science fair contest.”

"Well now is your time" You bit your lip slightly.

He knew you were too small in comparison to him, so he was very careful when touch you, first he started by your dress, very slowly unbuttoning it. He look you in your underwear the moment he managed to take it off you. On the other hand, you, in a somewhat desperate way, started to take off his belt.

"No, until I say so" Their gaze turned a bit dark, they could see the desire for each other in your eyes.

He started kissing your crotch carefully, you moaned slightly, you had no intimate contact with anyone for a long time, so you somehow didn't remember how glorious this feels. He kept kissing getting closer to your entrance, the heat began to flood your body, after walking your thighs he began to lick your entrance a little desperate, but at the same time touching the exact points to make you see stars. He put two fingers inside you and immediately your back curled, when he entered the third in you pulled his hair as you began to feel the heat in your stomach increase more and more.

”Tom, please, I'm almost there" you moaned as your eyesight began to blur completely.

His fingers began to move faster and for an instant you felt like the heat flooded your whole body, it was the first time that someone managed to make you come with oral sex. You pulled his hair back, but it didn't seem to bother him, even taking it as a way to know where or not to continue. Your legs clenched at the feeling and he proudly began to undress. When you saw it you felt that you really needed to have he inside you, his axis was quite large, more than you imagined and its well worked body made you feel needed.

"Fuck me like there's no tomorrow," you whispered as you recovered from the first round.

You felt the desire going between your legs, again you were so wet just to imagine he inside you.

"You know that if I hurt you or if you want me to stop I will do it immediately” He placed on you and spread your legs with his knee.

You just nodded, he was staring at you as he began to insert his shaft into you, it hurt a bit, tears started running down your cheeks and Tom's face looked worried, "Do you want me to stop?”

"No!" To drown the groans you hid your face on his shoulder as he began to take a rhythm in his onslaught, at one point the pain ceased and he took a stronger rhythm, one after another, you felt as your body began to attach quite well to its axis, to the degree that you glued more your hips to his, demanding more. When he noticed it one of his hands took the headboard and with the other placed one of your legs on his shoulder to give you what you needed. At some point he also started moaning, loud and deep, which made you feel even more excited in the middle of it all.

”Fuck, why are you so perfect?" he whispered into your ear as you began to feel your orgasm was about to bloom.

"Make me yours, only yours" you moaned almost without strength.

"You are only mine" His onslaught, although it seemed that you could not, began to be faster and deeper, you knew that sitting was going to be a challenge for you in the following days.

To drown your groans he gave you a very deep kiss, his tongue did all the work in the kiss, honestly for you it was a sea of sensations that would end you unconscious of pleasure. Just as they both reached the climax he saw you in the eyes and felt you fade away in sobs and moans.

”I'm almost there" he said as he clung even more to you and your legs began to close with pleasure.

"Me too" Didn't know if you understood what you meant, but at least you were trying.

"Let me feel you" His words were your release and his, you felt the heat of his seed inside you and it was enough for your orgasm to reach the necessary point of feeling a deep warmth throughout your body. The veins on her neck were too marked and you could also feel her breathing so heavy as she enjoyed her release.

He was over you for several minutes, the only thing you could hear in the room was his busy, deep breaths. You hugged him fondly and he hugged you, when he came out of you you felt a pretty weird void, but fuck, it was the best sex you'd ever had in your life.

After his breaths managed to take a moderate course he saw you in the eyes as he groomed your hair carefully.

”I didn't want to be too brusque the first time" His hand caressed your stomach, internally you told yourself that if this was not brusque you didn't imagine the next time how sore you would end up, but it's something that really excited you, in every way.

"We'll have many more times to do it" You smiled and planted a kiss on his lips. "Many more" smiled in the middle of the kiss which made you adore him even more.

Thanks for readign me 

[wherestoriescomefrom]

I read a lot of really good books from India (and South Asia, generally) in the last year or so, and since they won't get as much attention outside of India, I figured I'd make a list:

[This is an eclectic list which mainly caters to my taste. If you want specific readers on anything particular to Indian political problems, please send me an ask and I'll direct you to readers to the best of my abilities. Please don't take this list as a complete representation of South Asian writing.]

1. Prem Kabootar by Manav Kaul. These are a bunch of short stories written in Hindi - I think there's a translation available, called A Night in the Hills. I was originally drawn to these because I watched a really excellent production at the Shri Ram Centre (this is pre-covid times) of one of the stories, and I decided more recently to read the rest.

2. Ishq Mein Sheher Hona by Ravish Kumar. This is in the same vein as the first one, and again, there's a translation available called The City Happens in Love. I believe it's translated by Akhil Katyal, so I trust it's a good one. This is more of a series of vignettes of people who fall in love in Delhi, and given how much I love Delhi, this one hit me very strongly.

3. When the River Sleeps by Easterine Kire. This book would be a little hard to get into if you're not an Indian reader. The idiom of the writing is different, the rhythm is different - and it's very clear that Kire isn't even catering to Indian mainlanders, let alone people out of India. It's set in Nagaland, a questing story about a man who has to wrench something from the heart of the river. It's laden with magic and history and I really think the author was trying to make you see how wonderful living there is?

4. Bhaunri by Anukriti Upadhyay. I cannot overstate how wonderful this book is. It's set in Rajasthan, deep in the desert, and it's got this dark... edge to it. The heroine marries this man and loves him with all her heart and I cannot actually talk about how the book moves, because it is A Lot.

5. Ghachar Ghochar by Vivek Shanbagh. I know this book misses on some crucial aspects of poverty, such as caste - but it's got such a fascinating picture of family resentments and angers of middle class India. Cannot recommend this enough.

6. Black Hill by Mamang Dai. Okay so this is one of those books in which white men arrive on a land and instinctively your heart sinks because you already know where this story is going. But!! Mamang Dai is really looking at the colonisation that took place in the North East, and even more specifically she's looking at Arunachal. There's a lot less looks into that as compared to the extensive detailing of colonisation in the mainland. It's a lovely book laden with history and that instantaneous foreboding you get when you watch a white man arrive.

7. Those Pricey Thakur Girls and The House That BJ Built by Anuja Chauhan. Okay those were some very intense recommendations, but I promise these two are just cute romances. Both have noncommittal men being completely blown away by firecracker women. Plus it's a multigenerational book series, I love it. I know Chauhan has problems with caste in how much she centres her Rajput pride, but I really love these books.

8. In Now and Then by Revathi Suresh. I was conflicted about adding this, because it is very.................. intense. It's got all this messiness of growing up, with a heroine that's not very likeable (also someone who is definitely uppercaste). I should add that this is the second of a series - Jobless, Clueless, Reckless came first. That one feels like the better book, but this transition is really interesting as well. Oh - trigger warning for suicide. I know that spoils some things, and it's not in the way you expect, but it came out of nowhere for me, so...

9. Power and Print by Anindita Ghosh. This is probably the only nonfiction recommendation in this list, but it's a pretty good book! It's dated and limited to Bengal, but there's very few print histories in India so I enjoyed it.

10. There's Gunpowder in the Air by Manoranjan Byapari. This is a translated text again, the original is in Bengali. It's a jailbreak story that deals with naxalite activists, and I can't emphasise how well written it is. Byapari is also a dalit representative in the current TMC government, which makes his politics even more interesting. I really enjoyed this book, I can't get enough of it.

I read a bunch of bad novels as well, but like I'm going to tell you guys about those. Suffice to say that you should stay away from Once Upon a Curfew by Srishti Chaudhury, and I didn't enjoy Shabnam Minwalla.

[noctqrnxl]

Books That Have Been Banned Recently

CREDIT: https://www.penguin.co.uk/articles/2019/sep/surprising-books-that-have-been-recently-banned-2019.html

Thirteen Reasons Why by Jay Asher (2007)

Ever since its publication in 2007, Asher’s bestselling book has divided opinion. The young adult novel tells the story of a high-school student’s suicide through a series of cassette tapes which she leaves behind for 13 of her fellow students. As the mystery untangles, each must work out how they fit into the puzzle of her death.

Despite being hailed as a "valuable tool in igniting conversations about suicide, bullying, and consent", schools in Canada and Colorado hauled the book from their library shelves after concerned parents complained. The controversy was reignited in 2017 with the release of a controversial Netflix adaptation, and by 2018 it had become one of the most banned, challenged and restricted books in America.

The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie (2009)

This bestseller, which tells the story of a 14-year-old boy who leaves his Spokane Indian Reservation to attend an all-white high school, upset a lot of people for a lot of reasons. The multiple award-winning coming-of-age novel was lauded upon its 2008 publication for tackling such touchpoint issues as racial identity, bullying, poverty, disability and more and as a result, many schools across America incorporated it into their curriculums.

Then came the complaints. They ranged from its use of "filthy words" to "reference to masturbation" to themes viewed by many as "anti-Christian". At least 17 schools across the US crossed it off their reading lists sparking student protests and petitions. Most were in vain.

Soon, free speech organisations jumped in to defend the book before the author himself slammed education authorities for wanting to "control debate and limit the imagination." It remains one of the most banned books in circulation.

China Dream by Ma Jian (2018)

All seven of Ma Jian’s novels are banned in China, and so is he. The political exile is now a British citizen, but the 5,000 miles between him and his homeland have not blunted the ire he has for the regime that shut him out.

The title of his latest novel, China Dream, is a phrase lifted directly from president Xi Jinping, who uses it to describe China’s “great rejuvenation” into the world’s sovereign superpower. It’s set in real-world China and follows a pompous and corrupt government official charged with replacing people’s dreams with government propaganda via brain implants.

It is a fearless critique of a regime that condemned his first book (about the impact of the nation’s one-child policy) as ‘spiritual pollution’. But then, in Jian’s words, "I have never allowed myself to not write something for fear of consequences; that would be the death of literature in my mind".

Beartown by Fredrik Backman (2016)

Last October, a cold gust of fear swept through North Carolina’s Rockingham County School District. A book, parents said, was having a terrifying effect on their 16-year-old children.

The outcry erupted after it was discovered that Beartown, by Swedish author Fredrik Backman, had inveigled itself into the McMichael High School’s curriculum without pre-approval.

Published in 2017, it tells the story of a rusting forest community that pins its hopes of glory and economic revival on its junior hockey team as it competes in the national championships. But the expectation on the young boys’ shoulders weighs heavy, culminating in a violent act that will leave one girl traumatised and the town in disarray.

Parents complained about its "vulgar", "graphic" and "just unnecessary" subject matter and the school board leapt into action, voting swiftly to pull the book from the honours class’ required reading list. One pastor reportedly fumed: “Whose job is it to make sure the books that are being taught are on an approved list? How many other books are being taught that are not on an approved list?” The imbroglio was put down to the inexperience of a teacher unfamiliar with the school’s book approval process.

Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami (2002)

When US State Representative Amy Arata picked up her 17-year-old son’s school copy of Haruki Murakami’s Kafka on the Shore, she did not like what greeted her eyes. The Republican lawmaker, of New Gloucester, MA, was so shocked by what she read that she felt compelled to introduce a bill to criminalise educators who teach it.

"It's really sending the wrong message to kids about what's appropriate." Arata told a local news station in January 2019, citing the book’s "obscene" and "very vivid descriptions" of sex." "I opened up to a page that made me go 'Wow, this isn't normal.'"

The novel is a surreal and hallucinatory tale of a young runaway on an Oedipal quest to find his mother and an ageing simpleton who searches for lost cats. There’s also a murder and mackerel that fall from the sky, intrigue and sex with a ghost and everything else you’d expect from Murakami’s magical realist style. American novelist John Updike called it a "real page-turner, as well as an insistently metaphysical mind-bender." In the end, for Arata, the bill was rejected by Maine’s legislative committee.

The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain (1885)

Ever since it was published in 1885, people have tried to ban Twain’s classic tale of two runaways — one escaping an abusive father, and the other escaping slavery. Racism has been the main criticism, while others would say Huck Finn simply "conflicted with the values of the community".

In 2019, Two New Jersey lawmakers introduced a non-binding resolution calling on school districts in the state to remove novel – considered to be one of the greatest in American literature – from their curricula.

“The novel’s use of a racial slur and its depictions of racist attitudes can cause students to feel upset, marginalized or humiliated and can create an uncomfortable atmosphere in the classroom,’ reads the resolution by Verlina Reynolds-Jackson and Jamel Holley. It also notes that school districts in Pennsylvania, Virginia, Minnesota and Mississippi have removed the book from their curricula. The debate over whether new publishers should sanitise future editions by replacing the n-word with "slave" continues.

[tchallasbabymama]

M’Baku’s Love- Chapter 2

Sorry, had to repost it. For some reason it was all blacked out on mobile? Idk, it’s weird and I’m still trying to understand tumblr.

Anywho, here’s Chapter 2 of M’Baku’s Love. Check out my masterlist HERE to read chapter 1 if you haven’t already, and take a look at my other stories as well. As always, let me know what you think or if you want to be tagged in anything. Enjoy!

Word count: 2689

M’Baku pulled up to the Outreach Center a little earlier than necessary on Tuesday. He got out the automated car and leaned against it, crossing his arms as he scanned over the building and its surroundings while reflecting on the mission at hand. If they were successful, thousands of Black children, millions if they expand, would be given a better education and connected to their old, pre-colonizer ways.

He smiled at the thought and turned to grab his things, when he noticed a small rainbow dash from the other side of the parking lot into the building. It took him a moment to process what he saw, but he realized it was Miss In a Hurry, rushing yet again. He smiled fondly and shook his head before heading towards the Outreach Center, opening the door and heading inside the cool, air conditioned building.

Once the chief settled in his office he went over the assistant files one more time, preparing for their interviews. He went over his upcoming day in his head and remembered that his meeting with the head of the Arts Department was at 11. He smiled to himself, dreamily, at the thought of her bright teal hair and her deep dark eyes, but shook himself out of it when he was interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Mr. M’Baku?” a tall, slender man who looked to be in his early twenties stood in the doorway dressed in slacks and a button-down.

“Yes, who is asking?”

“Deontae Greene, I’m here for my interview,” the young man introduced himself. They shook hands and the interview began. Truthfully, M’Baku didn’t need to interview the other candidates, he had already decided on hiring Deontae the moment his interview ended. He went through the motions of the second and third interview, focusing on the clock more than the interviewees. As soon as his third interview ended, he called Deontae to offer him the position, then went for a quick walk around the center to stretch his legs.

M’Baku found himself outside one of Shuri’s STEM courses, watching as the middle school aged children learned coding languages. She waved him in, and he tentatively stepped inside.

“Everybody, this is M’Baku. He’s the leader of the Jabari tribe in Wakanda.”

A chorus of “Hi M’Baku” erupted from the room, and he smiled before greeting them back.

“Mholo, children. What are you working on today?”

A little girl in the back with braces and pigtails was the first to answer.

“Princess Shuri is teaching us how to make computers work by telling it what to do in different computer languages.”

M’Baku looked at Shuri in confusion and she waved it off to explain later.

The large chief walked around the room to get a look at what they were doing, but quickly made it back to the front of the room when he caught a glimpse of the clock on the wall.

“I have a meeting, or I would stay longer princess.”

“Go, and don't be a stranger to this side of the center. Technology isn't all bad,” Shuri said with a wink as he left and shut the door behind him.

M’Baku’s long legs carried him back to his office in record time, where he was met with the sight of the head of the arts department sitting cross-legged in the chair outside his office, writing in a notebook.

“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, I wandered down to the STEM wing and lost track of time,” M’Baku rambled on until she looked up at him. Today she had on gold wire-rimmed glasses instead of her red cat-eye frames from the day before, and he liked that he could see her eyes better with this pair. When their eyes met his heart thumped a little louder and his skin felt a little warmer. He watched a small smile brighten up her face as she set her notebook down before unravelling her legs to stand up.

“I wasn’t waiting long. Plus it was your turn to be running late this time,” she responded. M’Baku gestured for her to enter the office first and she obliged before perching cross-legged in the chair across from him. He rounded the desk and sat down, looking into her eyes.

“I do not believe we were properly introduced to one another,” he held out his hand to her, shaking it from across the desk. “I am M’Baku, as you already know from yesterday.”

“Monae Johnson. It’s nice to officially meet you, M’Baku. And my apologies about the other day, I accidentally took a nap and woke up with barely enough time to- I’m rambling, my bad, I do that sometimes.” She rubbed the back of her head..

“It is no problem, really,” more than anything, M’Baku found her adorable.

“So did you end up trying the place I suggested?”

“Yes, I am actually glad you ran into me. I loved The V Spot. It was an excellent recommendation, thank you.” M’Baku had to give props where they were due and this woman definitely knew food. “You must tell me, what else is good in the area?”

“There’s so much! What do you like?”

“I am new to most cuisines, but I am open. Our meeting ends around lunchtime, would you care to accompany me and show me something I might like?”

Monae’s chest tightened up at his seemingly unintended double entendre. The man before her was fine as aged wine and she was having a very difficult time concentrating on the conversation, instead wishing she could see how soft his lips are. She looked down at the ring on her left ring finger and sighed, knowing she’d regret her decision.

“I’d love to.”

______

“You’re a vegan, right?”

“Vegetarian, but vegan is fine.”

“Ever tried Indian food?”

“I cannot say that I have.”

“Come on, there’s a place around here with some really good lunch specials. I hope you like it.”

“Well your last suggestion was superb, so I trust you,” he said with a wink. Monae blushed and turned away, but not before he noticed. M’Baku fought to contain his smile and cleared his throat. “So are you from Oakland?”

“Nope, I’m from Nashville. A southern girl at heart,” she said with her best southern debutante affectation. “I came to Cali for college and just never left.”

“What made you stay?”

“Honestly? It never gets cold here, not the type of cold that seeps into your bones anyway. The worst I’ve felt here is chilly. I’m not made for anything below 50 degrees.”

“As chief of the Jabari I must say I am a little offended, Miss Johnson.”

Monae’s face twisted up, but then softened when she saw the glint in his eye. Was he flirting?

“My apologies, your highness,” she said with a curtsey. “But I’ll admire it from afar.” Her ring flashed in her line of vision, but she shook it out of her mind.

“Besides, you are wrong. Anything over 40 degrees is unfit for habitation. The weather here makes me want to crawl into my refrigerator.”

Monae shivered at the thought.

The two of them arrived at Bombay Palace and since he trusted her judgement, she ordered for the table. The waiter took their menus and quickly brought their waters with lemon slices.

“Are you a vegetarian as well?”

“Um sometimes. I don't eat red meat, but I still eat fish and poultry on occasion. I’m mostly plant-based though. I read that the Jabari are pescetarian, what made you switch over?”

“You have been reading about us, eh?”

“Well I like to know who I’m working with, and I imagine that over the next few months we’ll be seeing a lot of each other, so yes I read about the Jabari.”

“Yes, I would hope so,” M’Baku said before taking a sip of his water while watching her. He noticed her shiver under his gaze and adjust herself in the booth and he smirked, knowing he was getting to her. “And I just do not like the taste of fish very much. Earlier you mentioned having a dance background, do you still dance?”

“I’m so busy I barely have enough time nowadays outside of teaching a class at the center here and there.”

The waiter returned with their samosa appetizer and Monae danced in her seat a little, making M’Baku crack a smile at her endearing antics. They both dug in, M’Baku immediately thanking Hanuman for the food he had received. The familiar yet unfamiliar tastes swirled around in his mouth like a gold medal ice skater at the winter olympics, and he couldn’t get enough.

“Mmm, what is this?”

“Samosas.”

“I could eat this for the rest of my life and die a happy man.”

Monae giggled and almost choked on her food, “This is just the first course, wait until you taste the paneer.”

The two of them continued to talk as more food came out, not watching the time at all.

“How does your family feel about you living so far away?”

“Well my little sister is in college at NYU, living her own life, and my parents died six years ago in a car crash, so they don't feel much of anything anymore.”

He was torn between laughing at her joke and feeling a deep sadness for her loss.

“What’s your family like?”

“I am the oldest of ten-”

“Ten?!”

“Yes.”

“Your poor mama...”

M’Baku’s laughter roared through the restaurant and forced a laugh out of Monae as well. Of course his laugh was as big as he was, and her mind briefly wondered if everything about him was proportional to his size before she was pulled out of her daydream by a ringing telephone. She looked down and her face dropped when she read the name on her screen. “Shit. Uh, sorry I have to answer this- Hi honey...yeah of course...uh-huh...no, just out at lunch with a colleague-”

He couldn’t believe his ears. He knew for a fact that she was flirting with him, yet here he was talking to her “honey.” He wanted to roll his eyes, but instead returned them to his bowl and kept eating.

“Hey, D, can I call you back? We’re just about done here...Ok, bye.” She hung up the phone and cleared her throat.

“Boyfriend?”

“Fiance actually,” she said, showing off the ring on her finger.

“Interesting…”

“What is?”

M’Baku leaned back in his chair and looked into her eyes as he spoke.

“I was not aware you were already spoken for.”

Something about the tone of his voice made her face heat up and she crossed her legs tighter.

“I have my ring on, what would make you think otherwise?”

“That right there,” he gestured to her flushed skin and fidgeting lower half. “You are awfully flirty for someone who is betrothed.”

Monae had hoped he wouldn’t notice and they could carry on like earlier, but the moment was ruined.

M’Baku looked at his watch, realizing they spent almost two hours at the restaurant. “We should get back to the center, I am sure we are missed.”

“M’Baku, I’m sorry to lead you on, but that wasn’t my intention, I just-”

“There is no need to explain, Monae.” He flashed her his gap-toothed smile and called for the waiter to bring their check. He paid, not without plenty of arguing on her end, and they headed back to work.

Shortly after he made it back to his desk the king and prince barged in.

“Soooo…?” N’Jadaka tried to get the conversation going, but M’Baku wasn’t following.

“How did it go?” T’Challa added.

“How did what go?”

The cousins looked at each other in exasperation, and yet again the hot headed prince pushed the issue further.

“Your date nigga! We saw you and Monae walking all close and shit.”

“It was not a date,” He loved the Udakus dearly, but Hanuman, they could be an annoying and intrusive bunch. “She is engaged.”

“Barely,” the cousins said with an eye roll.

“What do you mean ‘barely’?”

“My friend, she has been engaged for three years now with no wedding plans in place and he is almost never home. Like we said: barely.”

M’Baku would never knowingly break up a happy home, but he saw her body language on the phone and she didn’t seem to be as into her fiance as she was into him. Yes he was shiny and new, but the exasperation in her voice at his interruption told him what he needed to know.

“Far be it from me to advocate for adultery, but-”

“It ain't far from me, cuz,” N’Jadaka butted in. “Bak, that beautiful fairy of a woman likes your big ape ass for some reason. Fuck that nigga, she was looking at you like you’re already daddy.”

M’Baku looked over to T’Challa who was nodding in agreement. He had watched her during their department head meeting and every time M’Baku spoke she perked up and the tension fell from her shoulders. She was definitely feeling him.

“I have met this fiance just once and did not get a good vibe from him. I am not sure what it is yet, but there is something-”

M’Baku cut him off before he could even finish. He knew if he let them continue they would end up hatching a plan and roping him into it, so he nipped it in the bud.

“Do not worry about it, I would prefer to remain unattached for the short while I am here, anyway. Now if you know someone who would like something more casual, I would not mind meeting them at some point.”

“I’ll keep an eye out, brother”

“I think the newest history teacher is single, or at least there's no ring on her finger. I can’t remember her name though, is it Keisha? Naima? Whatever it is, she’s fine as hell,” N’Jadaka’s hands outlined her voluptuous body for him, which caught his interest. “I’ll see what I can do. We gon get you some pussy bruh, on Bast.”

T’Challa simply nodded in agreement again.

“Thank you both for your concern,” M’Baku responded dryly. “Now if you gentlemen would excuse me, I have to meet with the social studies department head in a minute.”

“We understand when we are not wanted, but please at least let N’Jadaka set you up. You need to get back out there again, it’s been more than enough time,” the king patted his friend’s shoulder before leaving the room, his cousin doing the same.

______

M’Baku’s last meeting didn’t end until 5 pm, and he was more than ready to get home, cook dinner, and watch a little more Fresh Prince. He packed up his things and headed out towards his car, when out of the corner of his eye he spotted Monae on the other side of the parking lot struggling with several boxes. He jogged over and took them from her hands.

“Here, let me.”

“How are you everywhere?” She laughed.

“You are just lucky, I guess.” He flashed her his million-dollar smile and she was hooked again. Derrick be damned.

“Yeah, I guess I am...um, thank you M’Baku...well uh, I should go. Busy day tomorrow with the open house and all.”

“Ah yes, what exactly is an open house?”

She chuckled at his naivety.

“Basically people from the community get to come here after hours to see what we offer. Think of it like a mass tour.”

“Interesting, well since I have nothing to show them on this tour I am sure I will have time to help if you need it.”

“Thank you, M’Baku, I just might take you up on that.”

“Good. Well, you should go home and rest for the big day ahead. I will see you tomorrow Monae.”

“Get home safe!”

It warmed his heart to hear her caring about his safety, even if it's something she said to everybody. A dreamy smile parted his lips and he felt as if she had just kissed his cheek and sent him on his way.

“You as well, Monae. You as well...”

Next Chapter

[capsized-heart]

Sky Castles

Pairing: Laurie x Reader, Jo x Reader

Summary: Summer has always been your favorite season in Plumfield. Perhaps it’s the lovely, sunny mornings and cool, calm nights, or perhaps it’s the fact that you and Laurie and Jo are practically inseparable in midsummer. 

Follows the summers from childhood into young adulthood, with turmoils of the heart along the way.   

Word count: 6.1k+

Warnings: fluff!!!!!!!!

A/N: hi, everyone. I hope you’re all staying safe and well! Right off the bat, I want to mention that I’ve pinned a post on both this blog and my main blog @sarapii-peachy​ about resources for the BLM movement to raise awareness and petitions you can sign to help make a difference on a smaller scale. Everything counts!

i’m back and now with a bachelor’s degree :’) class of 2020 high school and college esketit!!! we did it!!! in this historic pandemic!!! Sorry I’ve been gone for a bit, this fic has been my rocky transition/attempt out of writer’s block after my INSANE last semester of uni and with all the craziness going on in the world. I hope you can channel and take in some of this innocent happiness and childhood glee into your own lives as we navigate the shitshow that is 2020. Saoirse x Timmy x Reader here to cure me of my depression lmao

this title is also based off a chapter in the Little Women book where Laurie, Jo, and the girls go to a park and gaze at the passing clouds and talk about their futures...it’s honestly really sweet. Loosely based off of that! 

Comments and feedback would be greatly appreciated on this💛! Not that you guys don’t leave love, but this fic like I mentioned is my attempt at kicking writer’s block in the ass, please let me know how I did! :) talk to me I missed you guys :)

tags: @ravenmoore14 @monikakrasnorada @dangertoozmanykids101 @toozmanykids​ @adawn1970​ @mrchalamet-mrstyles @chavezlikesthings @loveylangdon@daygiowvibe @statisticlytimmy @ceexreverse​ @bamposworld​ @lilttletimmy​ @cindere-llaaa​

gif credit to @sheisraging​

You love New England for its rich, distinct seasons, how they each paint the countryside in eloquent sweeps of shade and hue. Snow, sun, and breathtaking landscapes of fall color that tinge the treetops throughout the year. You love Plumfield, Massachusetts more for the warmth and love the March sisters have shown you, each alike in personality, nature, to the equinoxes that have shaped your girlhood, each tender memory from your youth synonymous with Meg, Amy, Beth, and Jo. 

 Autumn. Cozy and comfortable, where motherly Meg showed you how to heat and dip caramel with the apples you’d carefully picked from the orchard for a rare treat, the kitchen swirling with the aroma of cinnamon, nutmeg, turmeric, and spices that left you feeling aglow. She’d taught you how to use an embroidery hoop, how to let dough rise, how to bake a proper pie and how to fix any clothing tear with a simple needle and thread, her compliments quick for your ever growing domestic talents. 

Winter. Like cool, ambitious Amy with her painting and taste for luxury and pleasure, how she would praise you for being the only subject suitable for her artwork. Laurie would moan and complain about sitting for hours by the fireside, begging to be excused to go play in the snow, but never you. Amy called you her muse, arranging your hair and skirts to her liking, softening your lips and cheeks with a touch of rouge. It was always such fun to make a day out of modeling for Amy’s portraits, talking and laughing as she’d set up her paints.

Spring. Sweet and angelic like little Beth, windows wide open as her piano trills would float on the warm air, curtains ruffling in the breeze. You’d sit beside her on the piano bench and turn her sheet music for her, to which Beth would give you a shy, rosy smile in thanks. She taught you how to play Chopin and Tchaikovsky, duet pieces where you’d accompany her on the keys, harmonizing with chords and your fingers flying easily together.

Summer. Your favorite season, refreshing, bright, where you and Jo would spend balmy days and long, cool evenings tucked beneath the shade of tree trunks and willows as you’d read in the sun, listen to Jo’s carefully crafted stories. Her creativity and imagination never failed to amaze you, how her writing could transport you to the farthest countries, or keep you grounded in whatever fantastical setting she’d constructed for herself. She’d often write about the two of you; two young girls, best friends who’d have all sorts of dazzling adventures exploring the corners of the world, without the taxing responsibilities of chores, or schoolwork, or the foreboding, inevitable reality that one day you will be young adults and childhood would be gone forever. You’d have picnics and excursions to the nearby fields, dozing in the sun and picking wildflowers, splashing and wading through the rivers and creeks when the heat became unbearable. Before Laurie would come and spoil your fun, of course. Then, you and Jo and Laurie would be like three rowdy boys playing in the woods, your laughter echoing off the trees and sparkling waters. 

You first meet Theodore Laurence as a young girl in the fields connecting the March’s property and your own. You live just down the road from the March sisters, your house tucked away beyond the bend and you’d make the trek across the meadow and grasses daily to visit your neighbors. Being an only child with your father off fighting for the Union, the March house was like your second home and the girls and Marmee and Hannah always made you feel like part of the family, your own loneliness long forgotten as soon as you’d step through the door and you’d be welcomed back with laughter, squeals, and embraces.

Today, you are seeking the company of your friends as usual, returning a book Jo had lended you with a basketful of scones you’d baked in repayment. A recipe you’d learned from Meg. The autumn air is surprisingly warm against your skin, indian summer, flushed and golden and dappling the plains. It makes you smile softly, your mood pleasant as you gather your skirts in time with your step, adjust your basket. 

Then, you see him. A boy making his way in the same direction, dressed smartly in a black woolen coat and matching trousers, a silk scarf tastefully tied around his throat. His curls are windswept and tousled, his gait relaxed. He feels your gaze and looks up, eyes finding yours and the corner of his mouth ticks up in a friendly smile. Warmth floods your cheeks. You quickly duck your head.

He looks to be your age, but you’ve read tales of highwaymen and bandits roaming the countryside, how they’d feign kindness, only to strike unsuspecting travelers. Perhaps it was the work of Jo’s overactive and contagious imagination playing at your nerves, but why was he heading towards the March’s? You think of little Beth, how boys and newcomers made her nervous, timid. Your resolve hardens protectively. You have to keep this stranger away from the girls. 

Your pulse hammers in your throat as you lift your head to see the boy still looking your way. He waves his hand in greeting. 

“Hello!” he cheers. 

With your eyes still locked, you pick up your pace and keep your silence. Curiously, the boy finds this amusing, laughing, making it into a game as he too begins to walk briskly towards the house, of who will reach the door first. You narrow your eyes, summoning as much hostility and wickedness to your expression, demeanor as you can muster. The two of you are running now, his grin wide and eager, your own mouth twisted with hard concentration as you race each other.

Your chest is heaving when you brace yourself against the doorframe, blocking his way with your arm, back against the wood. He’s not a second behind you and is already on the stoop when you turn to face him.

“Are you Jo’s friend?” the boy asks you with a breathless, easy smile. “You’re quite fast, even faster than her.” He adds. He’s practically bouncing on his feet, jovial and buzzing with energy. The mention of Jo’s name curbs your distrust further. Bandit may now be off the table, and the thought makes you feel a bit foolish now, but how could Jo befriend such a strange boy without you knowing? How did he already seem to know who you are? 

Up close, you notice his eyes are green and mischievous, reflecting back the shimmering plains in flecks of amber as he gazes at you, your pulse fluttering ever so slightly…

You scold yourself internally. 

Handsome or not, he was undoubtedly a boy of trouble who had somehow won over Jo’s attention. And no easy feat, might you add. Headstrong and resolute, Jo’s circle of friends was quite small outside of you and her sisters, and you liked it that way. You’d like to keep it that way as well. 

You feel a sharp, ugly pang of jealousy curl in your stomach. You stick out your lower lip in a pout, turn up your nose in a way that would certainly earn a scolding from Marmee if she were to see your impoliteness. 

“Who are you to ask?” You snap.

Your words do not take the desired effect on him. Instead of hurt, or embarrassment, the boy smirks at you, amused. He cocks his head to one side and leans back on his heels, studying you like you’d just asked him why the sky is blue. His mood is breezy, amiable. 

“I’m Laurie. Is that better?” he offers with a comical pout of his own. You wrinkle your nose. This boy was starting to irritate you more and more.

“Surname?”

“Laurence.”

“Laurie Laurence? My, how silly and dull.”

He laughs, a low and pleasant sound that threatens to melt your angry facade. He shakes his head, hands in his pockets. 

“It’s a pet name. Jo calls me Teddy, but you may call me whichever you like,” he says. Your jealousy burns brighter, flushing your skin, twisting together with a hint of desire and yearning. 

You were once Jo’s everything, her favorite companion. She made this clear with how she’d tell you plainly, how she’d spoil you with compliments and stories and affection. And now, it seemed Jo knew another, this Laurie, well enough to call him Teddy when you had no pet name of your own. She seemed to speak of you, which would explain Laurie’s cordiality, but did she tell him how you were the only one she felt comfortable enough with to critique her writing? How she would encourage your aspirations of becoming a dancer by arranging the foyer into a stage and cheering for you while sitting atop the staircase like an admirer in the box seats? How the two of you could jest and play for hours with nothing but your imagination, crying from laughter until your bellies ached?

You feel a sense of betrayal and heartache at this, an intrusion, a tirade of emotions you can’t quite explain. Did you want Jo all for yourself? Did you want to befriend Laurie as well? Did you just want to be someone’s everything again and to be doted on and loved? 

Then, Laurie’s voice tapers into a quiet hum, a touch of softness. You hear the first indication of bashfulness as he looks down at you through full, dark lashes. “I hope the three of us can be good friends. I’d like to know you as well.” He murmurs. 

You don’t know what to think of him. Your chest feels tight and your cheeks burn, from anger or passion you can’t quite tell. You’re contemplating leaving your basket on the doorstep and shoving past him to go back home when you suddenly hear a clamor of voices and the turning of the knob and then the door falls open behind you. 

Laurie catches you before you can tumble through the entryway, hands finding your waist. Jo, vibrant and chipper as ever, lights up when she sees you and her sky blue eyes shine like glass. She has her cap fitted over her wavy blonde curls, skipping into your arms and for a moment you’re sandwiched between the two of them. You flush scarlet. 

“Oh, good! You two have met. Goodbye, Marmee! I’m going out!” Jo calls into the house, her voice overlapping with her sisters’ as they all greet you in a burst of chaos. But before Jo can usher you outside, you feel your childish temper flare and you squirm out of her reach and back through the open door and into the house. You set your basket onto the table, turning to hide your face in Amy’s shoulder with a flutter of your skirts as you feel the hot sting of tears prickle your eyes. You weren’t going to let this Laurie boy see you cry upon your first encounter.

“I’m not coming.” You mumble. Amy’s hand comes to soothingly pet back your hair with a hush of surprise and you sense her look to Jo with a characteristic glare.

“Jo, what have you done?” Amy presses.

“I’ve done nothing!” Jo retorts with a huff. Then, her voice turns gentle, curious as she speaks to you. “Dear, what’s the matter?”

“She wouldn’t be on the verge of tears if you hadn’t done nothing, would she?” Amy replies. You laugh weakly, tightening your arms around her. “See?” Amy says. “You’ve broken her heart, the poor thing.” 

“Jo’s made new friends,” you sniffle, embarrassed when Laurie’s eyes meet yours. Amy’s arms around you make you feel comforted and safe, brave enough to voice your true burdens when you say, “I’ve been replaced,” and gaze back at Laurie in defiance, protest. He frowns and shifts his weight, looking genuinely sorry with a guilt that touches his eyes. Good, you think. Let him think twice before stealing away your best companion. 

At this, Jo’s expression softens with understanding and warmth as she sees you curl into Amy once more. Jo takes a step into the open doorway, leaving Laurie on the stoop.

“No one could ever replace you, dear,” she says. “I only keep Laurie around for when I’m bored and you aren’t around to play. Look at him,” she gestures in his direction. “He’s aloof and vain, he’s lazy, he doesn’t have an ounce of the imagination you do-” 

“Don’t forget arrogant.” Amy pipes up.

Jo nods, wagging a finger at her sister. “Right you are, Amy. We mustn't forget that.”

Laurie starts to puff up with a temper, his lips twisting together and you can see him struggling with whether to speak up and defend himself, or let the girls have their fun for your sake. Jo goes on, saying he was devious and too pretty for his own good, making you and Amy giggle as she rubs soothing circles into your back. It’s rather polite and charming as you watch Laurie suffer silently, biting his tongue as Jo continues to defame his character before she finally turns back to you.

“I should have introduced the two of you properly, and for that, I’m sorry,” says Jo. “You must have had quite the surprise running into him.” Laurie again glances to you with an apologetic softness, wringing his hands together. “So, what do you think, Teddy? Are we ready to start afresh?” Jo asks him, hands on her hips. 

This makes you laugh, bubbly, your mood perking up as you finally lift your head from Amy’s shoulder. Of course, Jo would be able to comprehend your grievances and somehow peg Laurie with the blame, how she knew your heart was delicate and tender and so full of devotion that you were quick to hold grudges. Your envy dissipates and you feel a bit sorry seeing Laurie now in such low spirits, his theatrical demeanor now quiet and modest. 

“If she’ll have me,” Laurie murmurs, glancing up at you with such a pureness in his glittering eyes that regret starts to settle in your stomach.

“And I’ve written more of that story you enjoyed so much,” Jo holds out a hand to you. “Won’t you come hear what happens next?” she asks. Slowly, like the pull of a magnet, you untangle yourself from Amy’s arms and cross the room to take Jo’s outstretched hand. 

“Alright.” You say at last. Jo beams and cradles your face with her other hand, swiping away your tears with her thumb. You let her baby you like she would with Beth, enjoying her touch against your cheek. 

“That’s my sweet girl.” She smiles.

You then look to a sheepish Laurie and extend a hand, filled with new courage. You tell him your name and echo back his words that you hope the three of you can indeed become good friends, that you and Jo could do well with another acquaintance. The smile Laurie gives you is genuine, sweet and gentle, the corner of his mouth turning up in crooked delight. He clasps your hand warmly.

“I would want nothing more.” Laurie laughs. 

And with that, nestled between Jo and Laurie, you step back outside into the rich and golden light of a warm autumn afternoon, curious, excited for what adventures the day will bring you. 

**

Laurie joins your duo swimmingly and the rest of the year passes in pleasant tranquility as the three of you spend nearly every waking moment by each others’ sides. All Hallow’s Eve finds you dressed in a costume of French royalty, a pompous and comical gown of ballooning fabrics, complete with a powdered wig of pins and curls. You’ve painted your face with overlined lips and the trademark mole below your eye and the March sisters double over with laughter as you enter the foyer, fluttering your paper fan with an aristocratic pout, Laurie saluting your entrance with a roar of, la plus belle fille du monde! Jo is dressed as a fearsome pirate, outfitted in boots, breeches, and a captain’s hat, the wooden sword you and Laurie helped to paint swishing through the air as she parades into the room. Laurie enters last with a bang and a flash of white powder, appearing before your eyes in true magician fashion with a top hat and cane, a false mustache pasted onto his upper lip. All six of you then march across the field to the Laurence residence, now alight with carved pumpkins and lanterns, for your All Hallow’s Eve party of sweets and games.

Christmas brings festivities, flurries, and cheer. Sledding, ice skating, days of cold and winter fun making snow angels and snowmen, decorating the March house with holly, mistletoe, culminating into a hearty turkey dinner as you sit perched next to Laurie. The candlelight is homely, the sound of laughter and clinking silverware washing over you and you catch Laurie’s eye as he lifts his fork to his mouth. The two of you grin, leaning into each other with quiet happiness, heads bowed. You and Laurie both mirror each other in being only children, meaning these times together have been filled with welcome camaraderie. Where your instances of yearning for the companionship of siblings that only those without can understand, you’ve found company in each other, never a dull moment, never lonely. 

The thaw of spring keeps you tucked away indoors with torrents of rain pelting against the roof. Jo reads to you aloud from her novel, asking for your thoughts every so often as you and Laurie lounge on the sofa. When you articulate a point of slight critique on Jo’s use of character, Laurie teasingly tugs on a lock of your hair with a smirk. 

“How perceptive.” He murmurs, grinning.

You swat his hand away, glaring at him in mock anger. 

And as the days grow warmer, so does your heart. You’ve learned to share your affection between Laurie and Jo in a way you think is equally matched and that autumn day where you’d been so sour to both of them seems like ages ago. Soon after that incident, your bravado had quickly morphed into appreciation and Jo had been eager to break the ice between you and Laurie. And like all children, your differences and jealousy had been set aside as you’d discovered he was quite fun to be around. Laurie shared Jo’s quick wit and intelligence, like an androgynous mirror, so much of yourself also reflected in both of them in time and they in you. And yet, Laurie had a certain charm about him; how he could have the two of you in stitches and still maintain the air of sophistication that was so often expected of the Laurence boy. Admittedly, you were thrilled to have them both as your best and favorite playmates. 

In turn, they had done the same, showering you with loving attention and teasing, keeping you entertained with their bickering, quarreling over how they both wanted to occupy your time with their respective ideas for sport. Fighting over you. The thought of it makes you blush furiously. Yet, you feel cared for, like the most precious thing in their lives.You’ve also selfishly enjoyed being the apple of their eye and all the privileges that has bestowed; Jo writing you into her stories, featuring you as a beautiful sugar plum fairy, and Laurie promising to write you a French ballet, to someday whisk you off to Europe to experience high art and culture. 

At last, spring turns to summer and the three of you are back to mischief and horseplay in the great outdoors. The days are lush, agreeable, bright and pleasant with flashing sunshine and lofty clouds. You’re again reminded why summer to you is synonymous with Jo as you run together through the waving fields bursting with flowers, Laurie right on your heels as he too gives chase. 

“Jo! We were only kidding about the toads!” Laurie calls out from behind you. “It’s not like I have one in my pocket this very moment who’s squirming to get free and might have bitten me earlier when I caught him by the river and-”

He gives a shout of surprise and you hear his footfalls pause in the grasses. You and Jo both turn, breathless, already laughing when you see Laurie hopping about like hot coals are burning beneath his feet.

A small pond frog wiggles out of his pocket seam with a croak and then disappears into the meadow, waddling with great speed. With out-turned pockets and wrinkled trousers, Laurie stands there with his hands on his hips, confidence and humor masking his faults as always.

“My, they grow up so fast, don’t they?” Laurie says as he looks out over the crest of the hill with a humorous glint in his eyes, like a mother watching her child leave for the vast, cruel world. You and Jo collapse into a fit of giggles, holding each other upright by the shoulders and gasping for air.

**

Eternal summer and sun, a tender paradise. And as midsummer arrives, so does the heat. It’s stifling, heavy, the kind that suffocates and forbids any excessive movement or play, when being idle is perfectly acceptable, a rarity for you three young adventurers. Today, even nature herself seems to be drowsy from the stifling weather. Sunflowers droop from the weight of honeybees as they float lazily over the fields. Birds chortle from the treetops, as if too tired to fly, their song intertwining with the rustling grasses, tousled by the rare cool breeze. The sky burns a dome of brilliant blue above you, filled with towering, cotton white cumulus clouds. You watch as they drift slowly over the horizon. Like colossal ships at sea. 

You rest your head on Laurie’s chest and he toys with your hair. Jo dozes with her arms pillowed across your stomach and the three of you are a sleepy dog-pile of limbs. The feel of Laurie’s fingers makes you relaxed, drowsy. You hear Jo then give a soft snore and you chuckle.

“What is it?” Laurie asks. You can already hear the smile in his voice, how just your laughter is enough to amuse him too. You shake your head against his chest and the movement makes you giggle again. Laurie joins you, flopping out his legs, the heat making you both delirious and loopy.

You reach up blindly and give him a firm nudge, your hand landing just under his chin.

“Stop it, you’ll wake her.” You scold him with as much seriousness as you can muster and failing miserably. 

“Ow,” Laurie groans. He grasps your wrist, moving your hand to place it against his cheek and he puckers out his lower lip. “You’ve hurt me, I’m unwell.”

“Oh...Laurie, I didn’t mean it..” you sit up and coo, caressing his skin. Laurie looks pleased, a flash of playfulness in the green of his eyes as you lean towards him. “Let me take a closer-” 

You cuff him on the ear ever so lightly, catching him by complete surprise and Jo wakes, cackling, throwing her arms around you. 

Later, the three of you gaze up at the passing clouds, a comfortable silence settling over you all as you enjoy the afternoon.

“If we could fly up into those clouds and there was a castle with anything your heart desired, what would it be?” Jo asks. “Where do you two see your lives leading you?” Her tone is pensive, romantic. You and Laurie both hum in thought. 

“You first, Laurie.” You murmur. 

Laurie turns to look back at the bright blue sky, to the billowy clouds that look like spun sugar candy. 

“I want to live abroad in Europe and be surrounded by music, my music. I want to compose, I want to be renowned for my operas.” He declares with a proud puff of his chest. Jo nods, you give his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“That sounds very much like you, Teddy,” Jo says. “A bachelor making art in Europe, how capital.”

He makes a face, then winks at you out of the corner of his eye. You stick out your tongue.

“You can do it if you stay focused,” you add. “No more billiards, for a start.” 

Laurie wrinkles his nose. “And what is it that you want, prima donna?” he asks you in challenge. 

You turn away with a roll of your eyes, gaze to the heavens. The thought comes to you easily as you listen to the birds, feel the breeze tickling your skin, drinking in the sky. 

“I want to be a ballet dancer in a prestigious company. I want to tour the world.” You say softly. Before, you would have felt embarrassment to share such an ambitious dream. But something about this moment, of being with Laurie and Jo makes you feel brave and safe enough to speak your mind, to put your words into the universe and have it come to fruition. Like a magic spell of sorts. With them here with you, you feel like any dream is possible.

Another chorus of hums and Jo looks pleased at your response. Laurie smirks up at the horizon.

“No fair if it’s likely to happen,” he laughs. “That’s cheating.”

“Oh, hush,” Jo chides with a rather hard sock to Laurie’s arm. She ignores his whines as he recoils and grumbles dramatically. “You’re well on your way, dear,” Jo tells you. “Now that you’ll be in that New York production next summer, I’m sure your opportunities will be plentiful.”

You hope she’s right. You’d secured a role as an ensemble dancer in an upcoming production of Romeo and Juliet, your most prestigious show as of yet in your young and budding career. Jo’s warm praise makes you blush like the flowers surrounding you, pink and full. Laurie’s quick eyes catch this, envious, and he changes the subject, a muscle ticking ever so slightly in his jaw. 

“And you, Jo?” He asks tightly. 

Jo exhales, crossing her arms behind her head. “Being a writer, of course. A great one. I don’t want to settle for less.” 

“Doubtful,” snides Laurie. “I don’t see it.”

You and Laurie look to each other with a quiet smile.

“No, not with all the prizes you’ve won,” you add. “Impossible.”

Jo shoots upright, too quickly for the heat. She slugs Laurie again.

“Ow...Jo, it’s too hot for your beatings,” he moans. “Don’t be a poor sport.”

She doesn’t answer him, only gives him a final push and hunkers back down onto the grass, turning her back to him with a huff.

“Why am I the only one that ever gets hit?” Laurie grumbles, opening his shirt to cool himself off and throws his forearm across his eyes for shade, frowning. You giggle, curling up beside her.

“I believe in your abilities, Jo.” You whisper to her. She takes your hand. 

It’s not long before the three of you are fast asleep in the sun. 

**

And as the seasons and summers roll on and the fruits of childhood begin to slowly ripen with the passing years, you find your companionship with Laurie and Jo changing and growing like never before. Your friendship starts to blossom into fondness, adoration. Indeed, you’ve loved them as playmates and companions since the three of you were children, but as you flourish amidst that quaint, strange, and budding pocket of time when young men and women come of age, where you and Laurie and Jo are now struck with bashfulness and an awareness of being alone with each other, your love for them arches and glows like summer sunset. 

This makes you acutely conscious of your appearance and dress, your posture, how you carry yourself, your mannerisms. How did your hair look? Did you laugh too loudly? Would Jo think your comments about her writing were too harsh? Why did you feel such warmth in your chest every time you saw her? And why were you starting to anticipate Laurie’s company? Why did you always have a sharp hope that he would come around with every visit of yours to the March residence? The constant whir of thoughts and worries was enough to make your head turn with heaviness, make you collapse from the pressures of simply existing.

“You’re acting odd,” Laurie tells you one day.

The two of you lay in a meadow with summer buzzing all around you, resting beneath the drooping leaves of a willow tree. Jo had been unable to join you as she had Beth’s lessons to teach that afternoon, much to her own disappointment and promising to make it up to you soon with an affectionate pinch to your cheek. You’d considered going home then. The last thing you wanted was to be left alone with Laurie, that familiar crush in your chest, an inkling of dread coupled with a shortness of breath, fear and excitement. You were terrified. But when he’d taken your hand and asked you so sweetly to accompany him to the meadow’s waters, how could you possibly refuse? 

But of course, Laurie was quick to notice your nerves. 

“The heat is getting to your head,” you say evenly with eyes closed, enjoying the warmth of the sun on your face. “Besides, that’s rather rude.”

You hear him move and feel his presence directly in front of you, as if leaning in.

“It is a bit hot, do you feel up for a swim?”

This makes your eyes snap open. Following Jo’s mannerisms, you give him a shove in the chest. “You’re vile,” you grin. 

To your surprise, Laurie’s teasing, playful demeanor is nowhere to be found. His gaze is instead thoughtful, holding your own like you are all he sees. Immediately, you feel your pulse kick up in the side of your throat.

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” he continues with a shake of his head. “You don’t seem like yourself. I thought a change in our routine could be refreshing.”

You give a light shrug of your shoulders. “I feel fine,” you say. 

He brushes the back of his hand against your forehead. He hums, then curls his fingers down along the planes of your face to rest on your cheek. 

“You’re flushed,” he murmurs. 

Time seems to slow. The roar of blood deafens your ears and the fragrance of the sweet waters and blooms around you is overwhelming, sunlight refracting like prismed rainbow. Laurie kisses you then, a gentle touch of his lips, tilting your chin up to meet him. A sweetheart’s kiss, one that tastes of summer secrets as you’re shaded by vines and mist. When you break apart, he keeps his hand cradled against your cheek, his thumb circling the corner of your mouth.

You don’t know what to say. You’re speechless, your chest rising and falling softly, staring back at him with wide, surprised eyes. Laurie looks reflective, emerald irises half-lidded.

“What am I to tell Jo?” you whisper to him. Heat diffuses through your body like desert wind. You feel elated, cherished, frightened, embarrassed. Guilty. Laurie’s eyes flicker once more to your lips, his dark lashes fluttering with the movement. His smile is melancholy, yet knowing.

“You love her, too.” Laurie hums. It’s a statement, a confirmation of your feelings for both of them. The fact that the boy you’ve adored for so long has uttered your very thoughts out loud should have you completely mortified, yet there’s a small sense of comfort knowing he’d understand. Laurie knows this because he himself feels the same way, knows you or Jo or himself could never bring themselves to choose.

Laurie’s smile prompts you to lace your fingers together in the grasses and you give him a light peck on the cheek. He brightens up, raking a hand through his black curls. 

“You love me.” Laurie beams.

**

When you tell Jo about the kiss, she’s dancing with you on the porch in the evening light. Inside, you can see Marmee and the girls entertaining themselves through the windows as you practice your pirouettes. Jo is dressed in her writing jacket and trousers, keeping you balanced as she plays the part of the male dancer, perfectly competent. 

“What an impish boy,” Jo says of Laurie. You laugh and the two of you continue your steps, running through the dance number in a private rehearsal. Laurie is due to rehearse with you the week before your performance and the thought itself is enough to make butterflies explode in your stomach. Jo is a strong, leading dancer, while Laurie is graceful and firm, both capable of making the palms of your hands sweat with nerves. You know in your heart if you could rehearse with them, you’d have no fear on opening night. You’d already be invincible.

“Again from the top, please, kind sir,” you curtsey to Jo. Her smile is giddy and she gives a click of her heels before returning to her starting position. 

“Of course,” she responds. Taking your hand, she guides you through the steps once more, your heart soft and temperate like the evening around you.

**

The sound of applause is warm and full, washing over you as you take your bows. You feel weightless, aglow, eyes brimming with tears. You think you see Laurie and Jo leap to their feet in the audience, but the stage lights are too bright and you cannot see clearly and you think you may faint from happiness. 

In the auditorium, you’re still in your costume of Venetian silks and flowers when you’re swept off your feet by a boisterous Laurie and he twirls you around in his arms, his riding cloak billowing out behind him. 

“There’s our Capulet! You were phenomenal!”

“I’m so proud of you, dear!” Jo practically shouts with excitement, tackling you next in a bearish hug when Laurie finally sets you down. Their praise is boundless, endless, showering you in so much adoration that your heart feels close to bursting. You gather them close, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks.

“Thank you both for everything,” you choke out, squeezing them tight.

Over Jo’s shoulder, you spot Marmee, Meg, Amy, even shy little Beth with a bouquet of flowers and then you let the tears fall when you run to them and you thank your stars for the luck and love you’ve been blessed with.  

**

Another year, another summer soon arrives. You and Jo and Laurie are back in the fields cloud-gazing, a lazy afternoon of heat and leisurely time well spent. Things feel familiar, recognizable between the three of you, yet there’s a sense of distance between now and when Jo had first asked about your castles in the sky all those summers ago. 

 Jo was now making a name for herself in the writer’s world, having won another prize in a New York newspaper. She’d been gaining the attention of devoted readers and critics alike and was now working on a proper novel, her longest project as of yet. She tells you not to worry, that she’ll be sure to feature you as a central character in the same way she’d done as a child, nostalgic tales of pirates and adventure and love.

“My sweet sugar plum fairy,” she’d gruffed, pulling you into another powerful hug.

Laurie had finished his opera, now with aspirations of pulling funds together and opening a production in Europe. He was still in the midst of planning and conversing with his grandfather about finances and departure dates, but it seemed like Laurie’s promise of spiriting you away to Europe could now become a reality. And with the possibility of your very own French stage debut! 

Thus, you three souls were being tugged into three far corners of the globe, to your respective callings. The realization scares you, to know that this may be one of the few times you have left together. But underneath it all, there was a sense of excitement to see the world and make it your own. You were satisfied, proud knowing that the three of you had come so far with your aspirations and you had no doubt you would find success in your art.

In the comfortable silence, serenaded by the hum of cicadas and birdsong, you gaze up to the clouds gliding over Plumfield, Massachusetts. You feel an aching longing for those childhood days of carefree play, the countless rose-tinted memories of Laurie and Jo by your side, yet looking up at the sky, you know these memories of summers past will always be with you. 

And there would be better and more to come. 

[silverlightqueen]

Tia and Tamera... and Nicole

fratboy and best friend!namjoon x reader, university!au, comedy, fluff, angst (and making out, if that counts as something idk lol) ft. twice nayeon, got7 jackson & skz hyunjin

For btswriterscollective’s 1 year anniversary contest!

Summary: y/n decides to make a big fashion change and, all of a sudden, is the object of attraction of every male within a hundred metre radius of her. Namjoon, her best friend, isn’t too impressed about it.

Rating: 15 (mature themes, explicit discussion of sex, strong language)

Word Count: 9.9k+

Warnings: lots of sexism/misogyny, the typical she-has-a-makeover-and-suddenly-every-boy-wants-to-date-her-trope, lots of gross frat boys, strong language, explicit discussion of sex, alcohol and drug consumption, making out, Namjoon is trash and doesn’t know how to text. I think that’s it but lmk if you noticed that I missed something!

a/n: hey guys ! it’s silverlightqueen back with another university au lmao i’m sorry :( thank you to the loml @silverlightprincess​ for proofreading, you’re the best and I love youuu !! I hope you guys enjoy this bc it was really fun to write !!

silverlightqueen masterlist

I got the divider off google (it has no relevance to the story but it kinda matches the colour scheme so we move lmao) so credit to whoever made it lol

joon: u up

y/n: don’t fuckboy text me

joon: so thats a yes

y/n: what do you want ?

joon: u free tmrw

y/n: it’s Monday tomorrow

joon: what about it

y/n: I got a lecture in the morning, but I’m free after 11

joon: ill pick u up nd take u 4 food

y/n: look at you, any excuse to drop in that you can drive now

joon: do u want food yes or no

y/n: what food ?

joon: mexican indian chinese whateva u want

y/n: yeah, sounds good

joon: rnt u gonna tell me what food u want

y/n: I’ll sleep on it

y/n: anyway go to bed, idiot, why are you even awake at 2.30 on a Sunday night ?

joon: y r u

y/n: questioning my existence

y/n: duh

y/n: now tell me why you are

joon: i just left jens lol

y/n: nvm forget I asked

joon: sure u dont want the deets

y/n: positive

y/n: goodnight you demon

joon: gn angel

‘Took you long enough,’ Namjoon exclaims as I open the front door of his car and climb into the passenger seat. ‘Wait, whoa. Hold on. What is this?’ Namjoon demands as I shut the door behind me, and I quickly turn to look at him. ‘What?’ I ask worriedly, and he shakes his hand in my general direction. ‘This. Your outfit. I’m confused,’ he says, and I relax, rolling my eyes, trying to ignore the way my cheeks are heating up and hoping he doesn’t notice it. ‘Why are you confused, Namjoon?’ I ask as though I’m speaking to a child, and he laughs, starting up the car.

‘I’m confused because I’ve never seen you wear anything other than clothes that are way too big for you,’ he says, and I make an indignant noise as he speeds down the road like the devil driver he is. ‘Don’t even deny it, you know it’s true. I started to wonder if you had something you were trying to hide. A growth on your stomach. A hunchback. A pregnancy. Or worse; no boobs!’ he says, gasping dramatically, and I hit his shoulder, holding back a laugh. ‘I wasn’t hiding anything,’ I say, and he glances over at me, eyeing my chest, before his tongue darts out to wet his lip. ‘You were. I always assumed you had small tits – a B cup, max – but obviously not. I can’t believe you hid them so well. They’ve gotta be at least a D,’ he says, and I roll my eyes, not bothering to disclose that I’m actually an E. He’d probably pop a boner. ‘And your legs,’ he says, and I look down at them self-consciously. ‘What about them?’ I ask, and he blinks before looking down at my freshly shaved limbs. ‘I’ve never seen them before. They’re nice. Smooth. And curved, with some fat on them. I’m glad you don’t have stick legs,’ he jokes, and I sigh. ‘Stop body-shaming,’ I say, and he lets out a little chuckle. ‘Am I not allowed to have preferences?’ he smirks, eyes on the road as he overtakes cars left, right and centre. ‘No,’ I reply, and he bursts out laughing.

‘So what’s with the new look? What prompted this reinvention? Because, I’m either still tripping from last night, or you’re actually wearing makeup too,’ he says, and I shift embarrassedly in the seat. ‘I just felt like it was time for a change. I wanted to experiment, try something new,’ I say, and he nods, face blank. ‘Okay. Now, do you wanna tell me the real reason?’ he asks, and I laugh, annoyed that he knows me so well. ‘I was getting changed in my room-’ ‘Okay, hang on, let me picture it,’ Namjoon says, and I hit him again, ignoring his chuckles. ‘So, I was getting changed, and Nayeon barged in and had a meltdown over… my body. She said that she was really annoyed with me for hiding my body so much, because if she had my body, she’d walk around naked. Or whatever. Something like that. I’d never really… looked at my body like that, but once she said it, I realised that maybe I could start branching out, fashion-wise. So she took me shopping, and this is the trial of new outfit number one,’ I say, and he listens intently, nodding in all the right places.

‘So how have people reacted today?’ he asks, and I get a little embarrassed thinking about it. ‘Some of the girls in my class started screaming when they saw me, and Taehyung asked if I was new here, and if he could get my number. Oh, and our lecturer asked me to stay behind to ask if I was okay, because I didn’t seem to be myself today,’ I explain, and Namjoon bursts out laughing. ‘You’re kidding.’ ‘Not at all.’ ‘Wow. All I’ll say is to ignore Taehyung. I think all that weed has caused permanent damage to his brain,’ he says, and I can’t help but agree, wondering how that boy can even breathe right anymore. ‘Well, anyway. Why did you used to cover up so much?’ he asks, and I laugh. ‘Are you just gonna keep quizzing me?’ I ask, and he nods instantly, grinning. ‘I’m intrigued, y/n. You have to understand that this is a lot for me to process. My best friend has transformed into someone else since I last saw her. My mind’s going into meltdown mode,’ he says dramatically, and I roll my eyes at him. ‘Drama queen.’ ‘I learn from the best. You. Now, anyway. Can you answer my question?’

‘I don’t know.’ ‘You don’t know if you can answer my question?’ ‘No, moron, I don’t know why I used to cover up so much,’ I say exasperatedly, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘I find that slightly hard to believe.’ ‘Fine. I wasn’t the most confident in my body. It’s hard, seeing all these super slim tiktok girls, petite and slight, and seeing them dress the way I wanted to. It’s like… I felt stupid wearing the same clothes they wear because they look so different to me. The way the media glorifies slim women… it’s hard for not-so-slim women like me. So I just hid my body in loose clothes for so long that it was what I was comfortable in,’ I explain, Namjoon still listening attentively. That’s one of the best things about him; he may be an idiot, but he always listens to what I have to say.

‘That’s… kinda sad, actually. Because – don’t get me wrong, your old look did suit you – but this new look? It’s great. You look really good, y/n, regardless of the fact that you’re not a super slim tiktok girl,’ he says matter-of-factly, and I smile shyly. ‘Thanks. So it’s a yes to the black and white check mini skirt and blazer set?’ I ask, and he nods instantly with a grin. ‘I can’t wait to see the rest of your outfits,’ he says, turning into the car park at the shopping centre. ‘There’s… quite a few to come. I’m a bit nervous about a couple of them,’ I say as he pulls into a parking space, and he gives me a greasy smirk. ‘I’m even more excited now,’ he says, and I swat at him, the boy chuckling as he ducks away from my hand. ‘I’ve just driven you to buy you food, and this is what I get in return?’ ‘Yes. You’re lucky I’m not beating the shit out of you.’ He sighs, checking his blond hair in the mirror before climbing out of the car, and I reach into the back and grab my bag before getting out too.

‘Oh, my God,’ he says, sounding shocked, and I instantly panic. ‘What?’ ‘What are those?’ he shouts, throwing his hands down to point at my feet, and everyone within a hundred metre radius turns to look at us. ‘Joon!’ I exclaim, embarrassed at him grabbing so much attention. ‘Sorry. But seriously? What are those?’ he asks, and I look down at my shoes. ‘They’re sock boots. What’s wrong with them?’ I ask, and he stares at them before taking a step back and looking me up and down. ‘Nothing. They look great. I’m just shocked to see you in shoes other than trainers. And is that a handbag I see instead of the usual backpacks?’ he teases, and I roll my eyes. We walk towards the entrance, and I struggle to keep up with him (I always struggle when walking next to him, but even more so in these boots). ‘Wait,’ I say, hooking my arm through his so I can slow him down, and he laughs. ‘Aww, struggling in your boots?’ he teases, and I huff. ‘Shut up,’ I pout, and he laughs again, looking at me with an affectionate gaze and an amused smile.

But the affection and amusement soon disappears. ‘y/n. You’re literally killing me here. Hurry up,’ he says impatiently. ‘Sorry, Joon. It’s my first time wearing heels though, cut me some slack. At least I haven’t fallen over,’ I say brightly, trying to put a positive spin on it, and he scowls. He’s been trying his best to walk slow but he’s now struggling not to walk at his normal pace – his legs are so much longer than mine. ‘Yet,’ he says venomously, and I gasp. ‘Was that a threat?’ I demand, feigning indignance, and he side-eyes me. ‘Maybe it was. I could stick my foot out right now and no one would ever know,’ he says in a wistful tone, and I shoot him a dirty look. ‘I’ll step on your foot if you try it. Then who’ll be laughing when my boots ruin your Balenciagas?’ ‘Me, because you’ll be buying me new ones.’ ‘With what money? I ain’t got money like that.’ ‘Oh, but you got money for clothes?’ ‘I always got money for clothes.’ ‘Get a sugar daddy.’ ‘You are my sugar daddy.’ ‘Huh?’ ‘Who takes me out for food at least twice a week? And buys me things out of the blue?’ ‘Damn. I really am your sugar daddy. This isn’t a good deal for me at all. You’re getting the daddy, but I’m not getting any sugar.’ ‘I’m not sure that that means exactly what you intended it to mean.’ ‘You know what I meant. I want my sugar, bitch.’ ‘Jen can give you sugar instead.’ ‘Okay, but Jen isn’t getting the daddy. You are.’ ‘She was getting the daddy last night.’ ‘Did you really just refer to my dick as ‘the daddy’?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Never do that again.’

‘Where are we eating?’ I ask, and he grins. ‘Wang and Nayeon are waiting for us at Red Velvet,’ he says, and I gasp. ‘Yes! It’s been so long since we’ve been to Red Velvet!’ I exclaim, and he laughs amusedly. ‘I know. I was worried you might start getting withdrawal symptoms.’ ‘I thought we’d never go back. Does Seulgi still work there?’ I ask, raising an eyebrow, and he pulls a face. ‘Yep,’ he says, and I feel my eyes widen. ‘And we’re still gonna go?’ ‘Yes, because I’m a great person and make sacrifices for you even though all you do is abuse me and threaten to ruin my Balenciagas,’ he says, and I pout. ‘Sorry, Joonie,’ I say, putting on a baby voice as I give him puppy dog eyes, and he refuses to look at me, fighting a smile off his face. ‘Apology accepted. Now stop being the real-life version of that emoji.’ ‘Which one?’ ‘Don’t play dumb, you know exactly which one I mean.’

We round the corner to where Red Velvet is, tucked away from the rest of the shopping centre, and Nayeon and Jackson are sat in the window booth, watching a video on Nayeon’s phone together. When Namjoon and I enter, the little bell above the door rings, and both of them look up at us. Nayeon grins so wide I’m worried her face is going to split, and Jackson does a double take, eyes wider than an anime girl’s. ‘y/n?’ he exclaims, loud enough to catch the attention of everyone in the restaurant, and I shoot him a look, shushing him. ‘Oh, my God. What’s happened to you? Who’s this sexy thing?’ Jackson says as I slide into the booth opposite him and Nayeon, shuddering at the thought of my bare legs on the worn (and most likely, germ-carrying) leather of the seat as Namjoon slides in beside me. ‘Don’t refer to me as a ‘thing’, I’m not an object,’ I mutter, but my comment is ignored when Namjoon says, ‘literally my exact reaction.’ ‘No, it wasn’t. You did not call me sexy,’ I frown, and he blinks at me, looking surprised. ‘Did I not?’ he asks, and I shake my head. ‘Well, I thought you would’ve gathered that I thought that anyway. Based on the way I had to pick my tongue up from the floor when I saw you,’ he says, Jackson and Nayeon laughing as I roll my eyes.

‘You look good. Really good, y/n. I didn’t know you had boobs,’ Jackson says, inspecting me, and I try not to squirm under his scrutinising gaze. ‘Neither did I! Until I walked in on her naked!’ Nayeon says, Jackson’s eyes nearly falling out of his head. ‘I was in my underwear,’ I say defensively, and Nayeon rolls her eyes. ‘Details. But, yeah, after I saw her hot bod, I told her to stop wearing Billie Eilish’s hand-me-downs.’ ‘And gave her your hand-me-downs instead?’ ‘Excuse me, these are brand new,’ I point out, and Nayeon nods. ‘Yeah. You should know me better. I could never pull off an outfit like that.’ ‘I could pull it off you,’ Jackson jokes, Namjoon fist-bumping him as they laugh, Nayeon and I exchanging an exasperated glance. ‘I could pull it off you too, y/n,’ Jackson says with a little quirk of his eyebrow, and I roll my eyes, willing myself not to blush. ‘Jackson! y/n’s our baby, and we’ve gotta protect her from fuckboys, so stop being one,’ Nayeon says with a slap to his shoulder. ‘There won’t be any… fuckboys,’ I say, and all three of them raise their eyebrows at me. ‘You’re delusional if you think that. Just wait ‘til a frat boy sees you,’ Jackson says, and I frown. ‘Okay. That sounds fake, but, okay,’ I say, just as Seulgi appears to take our order.

‘Hi, and welcome to Red Velvet. What can I get for you?’ she says in the most bored tone I’ve ever heard. She must really hate her job. Even more with this moron sat beside me in here. ‘Can I get the Ice Cream Cake freakshake please?’ Nayeon asks, Seulgi gracing her with a rare smile as she writes down her order. ‘Can I get the Power Up brownie with Red Flavour ice cream please? And just water?’ Jackson asks, also getting a smile. ‘Can I get the Cookie Jar freakshake? And she’ll have Mojito cheesecake with Blue Lemonade. Thanks,’ Namjoon says, ordering for me too, but, unsurprisingly, he doesn’t get a smile. ‘Will you all be paying together?’ ‘I’m paying for mine and his,’ Nayeon says, pointing at herself and Jackson (she lost a bet with him a couple weeks ago, and owes him a meal). ‘And I’m paying for mine and hers,’ Namjoon says, Seulgi fixing him with a dirty look. ‘So this is who you’ve moved on to now?’ she demands, Nayeon and Jackson wincing. ‘Sis, you can have him,’ I say, unable to resist, and Namjoon shoots me evils as Seulgi looks bewildered. ‘Pardon?’ ‘I’m good, luv. Enjoy,’ I say, but she’s still staring at me, her mouth suddenly falling open. ‘y/n?’ she asks, and I nod, slightly confused. ‘OMG, I didn’t even recognise you. Girl, you look so good! I didn’t know you had boobs!’ she exclaims, and I have to stop myself from facepalming. ‘Thanks, Seulgi,’ I force out between gritted teeth, embarrassed as hell, but she doesn’t seem to notice, grinning away obliviously. ‘No problem. I’ll just get your orders put through and then I’ll come back for payments,’ she says, visibly perkier (nothing like seeing one of your friends unrecognisable after a makeover to cure a bad mood – apparently), before disappearing.

‘That was awkward,’ Namjoon says nonchalantly, all three of us fixing him with hard stares. ‘It wouldn’t have been so awkward if you weren’t such a dick,’ I say blithely, and he gasps dramatically. ‘Excuse me?’ ‘Don’t play innocent, dumbass. If you hadn’t had slept with Joy and Seulgi on the same day, we wouldn’t be in this situation. We’d actually have avoided a lot of situations if you weren’t such a dog,’ Nayeon says, brutally honest as ever. ‘Hey, I never made any kind of commitment to either of them!’ Namjoon defends himself, both Nayeon and I shaking our heads at him. ‘It’s common courtesy, douchebag,’ I reply, Namjoon sticking his tongue out at me. ‘I’d like to know what situations you’re referring to. I don’t get us into awkward situations,’ he says, all three of us giving him a ‘really?’ look.

‘Remember when we went out to that bar – what was it called again? Oh, yeah, Playing With Fire – and Jisoo threw that drink at you for blocking her on socials after you slept together?’ Jackson reminds us, Namjoon nodding slightly embarrassedly. ‘Oh, and when we went to Breakthrough, that club, and Sana got us kicked out by pretending we smuggled drugs in because you ghosted her after telling her you felt ‘something real’ for her?’ Nayeon brings up, all of us looking pointedly at Namjoon who nods sheepishly. ‘And that fight you got into with Daniel after you went ‘round telling people that Jihyo’s your sloppy seconds?’ I say, and he gasps indignantly. ‘I didn’t say that once!’ ‘Still. If you hadn’t had slept with her, that fake rumour wouldn’t have gone around,’ I say, and he pouts. ‘We could name several girls you’ve gotten us into awkward situations with. Chaeyoung, Hyejin, Wendy, Dahyun-’ ‘Okay, okay, damn. I get the picture,’ he says, the three of us exchanging looks.

‘Anyway, I need to go toilet. Come with me, y/n?’ Nayeon asks, and I nod. Namjoon sighs, reluctantly getting out of the booth to let me out. ‘Whoa, hold on,’ Jackson says, and I turn around to face him. ‘y/n… what you doing out here with all this ass?’ he asks, voice far too loud for my liking, and the few people in the restaurant turn to look at us disapprovingly. ‘Double cheeked up on a Thursday afternoon!’ Namjoon exclaims, before they chorus, ‘Hella ass!’ They burst into laughter, and my face is on fire, everybody in the restaurant staring at us (or, more specifically, my ass). ‘y/n, you dumb thicc, sis,’ Jackson says, and I take a deep breath before saying, ‘I’m going to go to the toilet now.’ ‘Take some ass pics while you’re there!’

joon: hey sexc

y/n: hey, what’s up ?

joon: wang wants 2 know if u nd nayeon r up 4 wing wednesday @ KPN

y/n: what time ?

joon: weneva imma get there 6.30

y/n: are there gonna be any other girls there?

joon: idk prolly the boys gfs

joon: y u asking so many qs u dnt have 2 come if u dnt wanna

y/n: I just don’t wanna be one of the only girls at a frat house with loads of stupid frat boys

joon: ill protect u bby

joon: me nd wang got u

y/n: much appreciated

y/n: we’ll come, but I’ll text you when we get there and you need to meet us at the door

y/n: I’ll feel awkward just walking in

joon: ok but call dnt text

y/n: you never answer your phone

joon: ill take it off silent 4 u angel ;)

y/n: thank youuu

joon: ofc see u tmrw

y/n: see youuu, goodnight joonie

joon: gn stupid

‘Wrong number,’ he says when he answers the phone, and I roll my eyes. ‘We’re at the door, come get us,’ I say, and he lets out a loud sigh. ‘I’m gonna lose my seat,’ he complains, and I huff. ‘Joon, please come get us. Do you know what it’s like being a girl around dozens of frat boys? You need to look after us,’ I plead, and he sighs again. ‘Give me a minute,’ he replies before the line clicks off. ‘Is he coming?’ Nayeon asks, and I nod. ‘Good, because it’s freezing,’ she says, clutching at her bare arms. ‘That’s what you get for wearing a t-shirt,’ I say, and she rolls her eyes. ‘It’s not like you’re dressed warmly either,’ she says pointedly, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘I’m not complaining about the cold.’ ‘Yeah, which I’m surprised about, because that top is thin as hell.’ ‘It’s not that thin.’ ‘Sis, I borrowed that top yesterday – it’s thin.’

I’m dressed in a black long-sleeve top tucked into a pair of greyish-whiteish joggers, with white trainers on my feet, a simple gold necklace around my neck with an initial pendant, a couple gold bracelets on my wrist and gold rings on my fingers. Nayeon’s in a pair of blue mom jeans and a black t-shirt, a cross body bag with both of our things inside it on her shoulder. Neither of us have bothered with full faces or pretty hairstyles – we’ve both got on basic makeup with our hair out and natural. It isn’t really that cold; it’s 8, and the air is starting to get crisp and cool, but the sun’s only just beginning to set, so there’s still a little warmth. Nayeon’s just a drama queen.

The door opens after a few seconds, Namjoon glowering at us, before he looks me up and down, his frown being replaced with a smirk. ‘Have I told you I love this new y/n? Like… this is a look,’ he says, and I grin at him, feeling a little more confident now. ‘I’m stood right here,’ Nayeon says with a half-hearted scowl, and Namjoon grins, grabbing her hand and pulling her into a side hug. ‘Nayeon, me complimenting you is like complimenting Mona Lisa. She already knew she was sexy as hell so what’s the point?’ he says easily, Nayeon preening as I roll my eyes. ‘You think Mona Lisa’s sexy?’ ‘Not as sexy as you.’ ‘Can we go inside? I’m cold,’ Nayeon says, not waiting for either of us to reply before she slips past Namjoon into the house. ‘Come on,’ Namjoon says, grabbing my hand and pulling me along behind him.

The second we step into the living room, the smell of strong cologne, alcohol and weed hits me and all eyes flit from Nayeon – who’s hugging Jinyoung and squealing – to me and Joon. Well, more me than Joon. ‘Woah. Who’s this? Surely not y/n,’ I hear Hoseok say, and I shoot him a dirty look, the boy grinning in return. ‘Shut it, stupid,’ I say, Namjoon continuing to walk towards the kitchen, dragging me along behind him. When we step into the kitchen, the smell of spicy wings hits me, and my eyes are instantly drawn to the takeout bags covering the countertop. But when I realise none of the bags are unopened, meaning frat boys have already been at them, it puts me off a little – I’d rather not eat food that might have been tampered with.

‘Look. My seat’s taken,’ Namjoon says pointedly, motioning to where Kai sits on a stool, beside Taemin and Seokwoo, the three of them laughing at whatever story Jaehyun’s telling them. ‘You’ll survive. What’s the point of having such long legs if you don’t stand on them?’ ‘There’s no logic in that. Go get my seat back,’ he says, and I side-eye him, wondering if he’s being serious or not. ‘How am I supposed to get your seat back?’ ‘Go flirt with him.’ ‘No! Him and Krystal have got a thing,’ I say, and Namjoon rolls his eyes. ‘That won’t stop him from flirting back,’ he says, and I glare at him. ‘I cannot stress this enough. Men are trash,’ I say before turning away from him, heading towards where there’s a couple dozen drink bottles and cups covering the countertop. I carefully pour myself a lemonade, making sure the cup’s clean and the bottle hasn’t been tampered with (I know Wing Wednesday is ‘for the boys’ so it’s unlikely it’s spiked, but it never hurts to take precautions).

‘y/n!’ I hear Mina exclaim, and I turn to see her stood there, smiling widely. ‘Mina!’ I squeal, pulling the girl into a hug. Mina’s one of Nayeon’s friends (they’re on the same course) but because Nayeon and I are inseparable, Nayeon’s friends are my friends too. Mina’s here because she’s dating Bambam, a KPN frat boy, and it makes me realise my privilege; Nayeon and I are only here because of our connections. If we weren’t best friends with Jackson and Namjoon, we’d have missed out on so many amazing memories. ‘How have you been? I haven’t seen you for ages!’ she says as we break apart, and I grin widely. ‘I’ve been good. Really good.’ ‘You look it. This style is, like, amazing! Is this new style permanent?’ she asks, and I smile shyly. ‘I think so. I actually… really like my new style,’ I say, and before Mina can speak, I hear Baekhyun say, ‘I like it too.’ Mina and I both turn to look at him, his stupid grin making me roll my eyes amusedly. ‘Hey, Baek,’ I say, the boy opening his arms for a hug, which I give (reluctantly). Baekhyun is Nayeon’s ex. They’re still friends – they’re actually on really good terms – but I’m still… cautious around him. He’s funny, and we get along, but I can never see him the same after hearing all the drama from Nayeon.

I clear myself a space on the countertop and boost myself up, sitting on the hard wood surface and Mina joins me, Baekhyun standing in front of us. ‘Have you had any wings?’ Baekhyun asks, and Mina and I exchange a glance, obviously thinking the same thing. ‘No, I’m… not really feeling wings,’ I say, Mina nodding in agreement, letting out little giggles behind her hand. ‘Aren’t you hungry?’ he asks, and, to be honest, I’m starving. But I am not about to eat those… frat boy wings, and neither is Mina. ‘Yeah, I could eat.’ ‘Let’s order some pizza then,’ he grins, and I gasp. ‘Pizza? On Wings Wednesday? Isn’t that against frat laws?’ I tease, and he rolls his eyes, pulling out his phone. ‘What toppings do you have?’ ‘Just get margherita.’ ‘Shall I get two larges?’ ‘Yeah, Nayeon will want some too,’ I say, and he rolls his eyes again, an amused smile on his face. ‘I’m not ordering pizza for Nayeon – I’m ordering it for us.’ ‘I’ll transfer you the money.’ ‘y/n… it’s pizza. You don’t need to transfer me money for it.’ ‘Why not? I don’t mind paying.’ ‘Yeah, but what kind of gentleman would I be if I made you pay’ ‘You’re not a gentleman,’ I reply amusedly, and he clutches his heart, pretending to be hurt. ‘I am.’ ‘You’re not. And you’ve made me pay for food before. Remember the Chinese we ordered after the LSG party, and you made me answer the door, so I had to pay?’ I say, and he winces. ‘Well… the pizza makes up for it,’ he says, and I just raise an eyebrow, amused.

It’s so… wrong that he’s only willing to pay for food for me now that he finds me attractive, but I won’t complain aloud; it’s free food after all. And then it gets me thinking. Maybe I should… take advantage of the effect my new look’s having. I mean, frat boys aren’t the… smartest, are they? Namjoon may be an exception when it comes to his education, but his common sense? He has next to none, demonstrated by the stupid situations his whore behaviour has gotten us into. And the rest of them are even stupider than him. I’ve always been a master of manipulation, and it’ll be even easier now they think I’m hot.

It isn’t long until the pizzas arrive and the second Baekhyun leaves to collect them at the door, Mina turns to me with a grin. ‘Girl, if you don’t take advantage of all these boys thirsting over you, I swear, I’ll be so disappointed,’ she says, making me burst into laughter. ‘I was literally just thinking about doing it!’ I exclaim, both of us laughing. ‘No, but for real. You should, like, make the most of it while it lasts. Not to sound nasty, but you know it won’t be long until there’s another girl they’re all into. You should exploit this opportunity whilst you’re still the… object of the affections,’ she says, making me laugh. ‘Exploit this opportunity?’ I repeat, and she nods with a grin. ‘Their generosity will only go to a certain extent,’ I say, and she raises an eyebrow. ‘Wanna test that?’ she asks, a challenging glint in her eye, and I grin, nodding. ‘Go look in the fridge, and when you’re asked what you’re looking for, say… Vanilla Coke.’ ‘Vanilla Coke?’ ‘Mmhmm.’ ‘Okay.’

I head over to the drinks fridge (they keep their food in the mini fridge and their drinks in the big fridge – their priorities are so fucked up) and open the door. I scan the bottles, seeing mainly lemonade and coke with a couple alcoholic bottles, but no Vanilla Coke. ‘y/n!’ I hear from behind me, and I turn to see Donghyuck stood there, a big grin on his face. ‘Hyuck! Hey!’ I exclaim, throwing my arms around him. Donghyuck and I did extra credit classes together last year, and I’ve barely seen him since. ‘You look so different!’ he says, holding me away to inspect me, hands light on my shoulders, and I grin, bending one leg at the knee and striking a pose, making him laugh. ‘It’s weird to see you in clothes that fit,’ he teases, and I roll my eyes. ‘Don’t even. Everyone’s making such a big deal of it.’ ‘Yeah, because you look hot.’ ‘Whatever.’

I turn back to the fridge, and he comes to stand beside me. ‘Whatcha looking for?’ ‘Vanilla Coke. I’m, like craving it,’ I lie, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘You’re lucky we’ve got lemonade and coke. KPN stick to basics,’ he says, and I roll my eyes. ‘Well, maybe you shouldn’t. Vanilla Coke is amazing.’ ‘Well, the corner shop down the road might have some. Shall we go get some?’ he suggests, and I’m shocked. Mina was right. He’s willing the leave Wings Wednesday with his frat brothers to go get Vanilla Coke from the shop with me. ‘You sure?’ I ask, and he nods. ‘It’s only a two-minute walk.’ ‘Okay. Let’s g-’ ‘y/n!’ I hear Mina call before materialising next to me. ‘Hey, Mina,’ I say, Donghyuck greeting the girl too. ‘Hey, Hyuck. I’m need to steal y/n. Emergency,’ she says, and my eyes widen. I’ve literally left her alone for a minute. What emergency does she have? ‘You okay?’ ‘Yeah, it’s just… I started. Do you have a pad?’ she whispers, loud enough for Donghyuck to hear, the boy wrinkling his nose in disgust, making me roll my eyes. Why boys are so grossed out about periods, I don’t know. It took two entire years of friendship with Namjoon to get him to buy me some pads. ‘Yeah, I do.’ ‘Will you come to the toilet with me?’ she asks, and I nod, apologising to Donghyuck before Mina drags me out of the kitchen, through the living room and upstairs.

‘Oh, shit! My pads are in Nayeon’s bag,’ I say when we reach the top of the stairs, and Mina lets out an annoyed noise. ‘I don’t actually need a pad, stupid! I was just getting you away from him,’ she whispers before pulling me into the bathroom. ‘What? Why?’ ‘Because now he’ll go get your Vanilla Coke from the shop and you won’t have to go with him,’ she says, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘Are you kidding? He’s not gonna go.’ ‘Yes, he will,’ she says, before letting out an exasperated sigh. ‘Remember when I stayed home for a few months, because I wasn’t well?’ she asks, and I nod – Nayeon was heartbroken that she didn’t have Mina to gossip with in her lectures. ‘When I came back, all the boys were fussing over me. Trust me; he will go and get that coke.’

We spend a couple minutes in the bathroom, reapplying our lipgloss and fixing our hair, before we head back downstairs, quickly grabbing two of the empty stools in the kitchen, Bambam sat next to Mina and Namjoon sat next to me, chatting with Minho about football strategy for their next match. ‘y/n!’ I hear Donghyuck’s voice after a few minutes, making me stop mid-conversation with Yugyeom about dessert on Monday at Red Velvet (it was so good, I can’t stop thinking about it – I might have to drag Namjoon back there this weekend). I turn to see him stood at the door, holding up a bottle of Vanilla Coke, and I have to stifle a laugh, pushing down guilt. ‘Oh, my God, thank you, Hyuck! You’re the best!’ I exclaim, giving the boy a hug before he disappears to find me a clean cup. ‘I was right,’ Mina says with a grin. ‘I feel bad.’ ‘Don’t. You didn’t make him get it.’ ‘Yeah, but I’m not even gonna drink it. I don’t like Vanilla Coke.’ ‘Well, it’s a good thing I do.’

joon: u got a lecture tmrw

y/n: it’s Friday tomorrow right ?

joon: um ye how do u not know

joon: r u still drunk from last night

y/n: I wasn’t drunk! I didn’t even touch any alcohol !

joon; then y were u letting johnny touch u up

y/n: I wasn’t! there was fluff on my boob and he took it off for me !

joon: ur so naive

joon: n e ways, do u have a lecture tmrw

y/n: yeah, 1-3

joon: wanna go 4 coffee after ill pick u up

y/n: sounds good

y/n: I’ll pay

joon: no

y/n: you paid for dessert !

joon: idc, ill pay 4 coffee

joon: u save ur money 4 clothes ;)

y/n: ew

joon: bitch do u want coffee or no

y/n: yes :)))

joon: ill b there @ 3, dnt b late like monday

y/n: okayyy see you at three joonie

joon: yep, night sexc

y/n: ew

joon: fine u can walk 2 starbucks

y/n: NO I’M SORRY

y/n: joon pls answer

y/n: stop leaving me on read !

y/n: fine, you can go to starbucks by yourself

joon: sorry

joon: y/n

joon: r u there

joon: bitch answer me

joon: ignore me if u wanna fuck

y/n: you’re such an idiot

joon: gn y/nie

y/n: night stupid, ilyyyy

joon: luv u 2 dummy

‘Hi, welcome to Starbucks! What can I get you?’ the barista asks, smiling widely. He’s handsome, with dirty blond hair pulled back into a ponytail and sparkling brown eyes, and I can’t help but smile back. ‘Hi, can I get two large iced vanilla lattes please?’ I ask, the boy nodding as he clicks away at the register. My eyes flit to his little name tag. His name is Hyunjin. Cute. ‘What name shall I put on the cups?’ he asks, eyes sparkling when he looks back up at me, and I smile shyly when I say, ‘y/n.’ ‘Pretty name for a pretty girl,’ he replies, not giving me a moment to process the compliment before he says, ‘that’ll be £7.40. Cash or card?’ ‘Card,’ a voice behind me says, and I turn to see Jaemin stood there, smiling. ‘Can I add a large iced americano to that too?’ he says, holding up his card, and Hyunjin nods, tapping at the register. ‘Jaemin, don’t. I’ll pay,’ I say, though it’s Namjoon’s money in my hand, not my own. ‘It’s fine, y/n. I don’t mind,’ he says with a grin, and I smile back, touched.

Jaemin moves around me to pay for the three drinks, and I feel a little awkward, stood behind him, waiting. ‘How have you been, y/n?’ he asks once he’s paid, and I smile. ‘I’ve been really good, thanks. How about you?’ ‘Yeah, great. You look… different since the last time I saw you,’ he says with a little smirk, and I roll my eyes, an amused smile playing at my lips. ‘I’m assuming that was a compliment.’ ‘Of course. How could it be anything other than a compliment when the ‘different’ I’m talking about is this?’ he says with a flirty grin, motioning to my outfit (a pair of tight black cargo trousers and a long-sleeved black top, big black stomper boots on my feet and silver jewellery).

Jaemin flirts with me for a little while, but his americano is ready before mine and Joon’s lattes and he has a lecture at 3.30, so he leaves with the promise of continuing our conversation at the ASP party tomorrow, which I had no idea about. ‘y/n!’ Hyunjin calls and I go over to grab the lattes. I notice a caramel shortbread on a plate beside the cups, and I look up at him questioningly, the boy grinning back. ‘It’s on the house,’ he says, and I can’t help but let out a giggle, flattered. ‘Thank you.’ ‘No problem… y/n. I’m a student, at the university, and I heard your… friend talking about the party tomorrow. I’ll be there, and it’d be nice to see you,’ he says, smiling as he leans against the counter casually, my heart jumping. He’s hot, he’s confident and he’s sweet – I could definitely see myself getting to know him. ‘Yeah, it’d be nice to see you too,’ I reply shyly, breaking off our eye contact after a few seconds. ‘See you tomorrow then,’ he grins before turning to deal with the next customer.

I carefully take the lattes and the shortbread over to mine and Joon’s table in the corner, the boy instantly biting into the shortbread. ‘That is mine.’ ‘I paid for your coffee, so I can have a bite of your shortbread,’ he says, mouth full of food, and I scrunch my nose up in disgust, sitting down opposite him. ‘No, actually, you didn’t.  Jaemin did,’ I say, dropping Joon’s money on the table in front of him, and he frowns. ‘Who’s Jaemin? The cute barista you were just flirting with?’ he asks drily as he picks up one of the coffees, taking a sip. ‘No, his name’s Hyunjin. And I wasn’t flirting with him,’ I say, embarrassed, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘Then what’s this?’ he asks, holding his cup out to me. I can’t hold back my smile when I see that Hyunjin’s written his number on the label with a smiley face beside it. ‘Exactly what I thought. Anyway… who’s Jaemin?’ ‘KPN Jaemin. He was behind me in the queue and he paid for our drinks. And then Hyunjin gave me the shortbread for free,’ I say, and Joon narrows his eyes at me.

‘I can’t believe you’re making these boys do all these things for you.’ ‘They’re doing it voluntarily – I’m not making them do anything!’ ‘So you didn’t make Donghyuck get your Vanilla Coke on Wednesday?’ ‘No, he choose to go get it!’ ‘Well, you’re putting Tia and Tamera to good use.’ ‘Tia and Tamera?’ I ask, confused, and he points at my chest. ‘Tia… and Tamera,’ he says, naming each boob, ‘don’t you listen to Doja Cat?’ ‘Not religiously – Say So’s the only song of hers on my Spotify.’ ‘Tasteless.’ ‘You’re tasteless for accusing me of using my boobs to manipulate boys,’ I hiss, and he rolls his eyes. ‘Did I lie?’ ‘Yes!’ ‘Okay, maybe I did. It’s not just Tia and Tamera. It’s Tia and Tamera and… Nicole!’ he says, and I blink in confusion. ‘Nicole?’ ‘Use your brain.’ ‘Did you just name my ass Nicole?’ I ask incredulously, and he nods, seemingly proud of himself. ‘People look at it more than they look at your face, so I think it deserves naming,’ he says bitterly, and I gasp. ‘That was low. People look at my face. I’m not just my body. My face is pretty too,’ I say coldly, a little hurt, and he looks guilty. ‘Well, of course your face is pretty, I just-’ ‘You just what? Judged me, even though you’ve slept with more girls than I’ve ever been friends with? Just remember that there’s a lot you’ve done that I could judge you on, but I don’t, because we’re best friends.’

The air is tense after I finish speaking, and I feel sick. Joon and I have never argued. Our friendship has always been so laidback, so chill, so easy. I’ve never had any downs in my friendship with him because we get along so well. But I’m surprised at him being so judgmental, and so… douchey about me getting some male attention for the first time in… well, forever. ‘Sorry, y/n. I’m being a dick,’ he says softly, and I can see that he feels guilty. I decide it’s best to end our argument here, because this isn’t a nice feeling. ‘Whatever, it’s fine, Joon. Anyway… you didn’t tell me ASP are having a party tomorrow! Am I not invited?’ I tease, and he grins, the tension between us gone. ‘No, you’re not. I’m tired of you being so dependent on me.’ ‘Shut it. You’d be lost without me.’ ‘Whatever. I was supposed to tell you about it at KPN, but I barely got to speak to you. You were… popular that night,’ he says quietly, not meeting my eyes, and suddenly, I can feel the awkwardness making a reappearance. ‘Ah, well, I guess there’s no point asking you to take me to Red Velvet then,’ I say wistfully, trying to change the subject, and he rolls his eyes. ‘Ask Wang, he’ll take you.’ ‘No, it’s fine. I don’t wanna be bloated at the party. We can reschedule to Sunday – order some for a hangover cure. Can I sleep over?’ I ask, and he nods, smiling to himself. ‘You and Nayeon are always welcome. There’s enough bed space for the three of us.’ ‘You say that, and yet, you end up on the floor with us two in your bed every time.’ ‘I’ll climb in with you while you’re asleep.’ ‘Isn’t that illegal?’ ‘Shut up and eat your shortbread. Or do you not wanna be bloated?’ ‘Matter of fact, you’re right. These cargo trousers are already tight.’ ‘That’s because you’ve got a fat ass.’

y/n: hey, is this hyunjin ? from Starbucks ?

hyunjin: yeah, and is this y/n ? the pretty cargo trousers girl ?

y/n: the one and only ☺️

hyunjin: I was worried you wouldn’t reach out to me after I saw you go and sit with that boy

hyunjin: I felt terrible bc I didn’t even ask if you had a boyfriend

y/n: oh no, he isn’t my boyfriend

y/n: he’s my best friend, namjoon

hyunjin: as in kim namjoon ?

y/n: yep, you’ve probably heard of him lol

hyunjin: I have lmao he has quite a reputation

hyunjin: I didn’t recognise him

hyunjin: I just saw you go and sit with a handsome boy and I felt awful

y/n: well, you don’t have to feel bad

y/n: and he’s not that handsome lmao

y/n: he’s just… namjoon

hyunjin: well, I’ll have to thank him when I see him

hyunjin: if he hadn’t given you my number from his cup, I’d have felt like an idiot

y/n: it’s a good thing he pointed it out to me lol

hyunjin: yeah, I’m relieved

hyunjin: I know it’s forward of me and I hope you don’t think I’m out of line

hyunjin; but I just thought you were really cute and I didn’t want to waste the opportunity

hyunjin: especially after jaemin paid for your drinks and flirted with you

hyunjin: I know it sounds silly but I was debating whether or not it was worth competing with him

y/n: jaemin’s not really interested, he flirts with anything that has a pulse

y/n: but I’m glad you didn’t waste the opportunity

y/n: I thought you were cute too, and I love your hair

hyunjin: ah thank you! I was a little nervous about growing it out

y/n: it’s unique, and it really suits you

hyunjin: thanks y/n :)

hyunjin: it’s late so I’m gonna head to bed but I’m glad you texted me, and I look forward to seeing you tomorrow !

y/n: okay, hyunjin, goodnight ! see you tomorrow :)

hyunjin: goodnight ! :)

joon: do u need a lift tmrw

y/n: no, jackson said he’s gonna pick us up

y/n: but thank you for offering anywayyy

joon: ok

joon: why did it take you 30 mins 2 reply its lit rally 2am, what else r u busy with

y/n: I was texting

joon: who

y/n: oh, just the, um, the girls groupchat, to talk about what we’re gonna wear tomorrow

joon: ok

y/n: I’m gonna go to bed, I’ll speak to you tomorrow

joon: aight gn dum dum

y/n: night joonie, sweet dreamsss

joon: ill dream of u in ur crop tops

y/n: pervert

joon: luv u ;)

y/n: love you more dumbass

‘y/n! y/n! y/n!’ ‘Oh, my God, Nayeon, you’re like a child! I’m mid-conversation!’ ‘I know, but this is important!’ she says, tugging on the strap of my top, her force nearly making me spill my drink down my outfit. I thought I’d dress simple, in just a black strappy lowcut crop top and a pair of ripped blue jeans, fluffy black slides on my feet and simple gold jewellery to accessorise. ‘Sorry, Dahyun,’ I sigh with a roll of my eyes, the girl grinning back. ‘It’s fine – go deal with your important business,’ she laughs, and Nayeon takes this as a signal to drag me into the kitchen, leaving Dahyun alone in the back garden. ‘What is it?’ I ask, and she grins. ‘I found your cute barista boy! Well, I think so, anyway. Not many boys have dirty blond ponytails.’ ‘Oh… okay.’ ‘Aren’t you excited?’ ‘I think you’re excited enough for both of us.’ ‘I’m serious, y/n! I saw him, and he’s really hot! You’ve been texting all day, and you said he’s really sweet. He could be your first boyfriend!’ ‘Nayeon, you’re getting ahead of yourself – I’ve literally known him for… 32 hours. And I don’t even know him, really. All I know is his name and that he works at Starbucks.’ ‘Well… this is your chance to get to know him. He’s with his friends in the living room – go,’ she says, not giving me a chance to reply before she pushes me through the open door.

He spots me instantly, calling my name, and I scan the room until my eyes meet his, smiles breaking across our faces as he waves me over. I head around the edges of the room, not wanting to get caught in the group of people dancing, until I reach him and his friends in the corner. ‘Hey, y/n! You look nice!’ he exclaims, smiling widely, and I feel butterflies; he really is so handsome. ‘Thanks, Hyunjin. You do, too,’ I say honestly, looking him up and down; his black jeans, loose blue and white striped shirt only buttoned halfway with a black t-shirt beneath are a chic and stylish contrast to the Starbucks apron he was wearing yesterday. Half of his hair is up in a ponytail with a few loose strands framing his face and his ears are adorned with earrings, sparkling in the low light. He introduces me to his friends, who all seem nice (I think I’ve seen a few of them before – I’m sure a couple of them are KPN frat brothers). As soon as the introductions are done, he asks if I’ll go with him to get a drink. He takes my hand gently – a shock running up my arm at the contact – and leads me into the kitchen, getting himself a bottle of Soju from the fridge. ‘Do you want one?’ he asks, and I scrunch up my nose – I find Soju absolutely disgusting. ‘Thanks, but I’ll stick to my vodka coke for now,’ I say, holding up my cup, the boy laughing as he nods, shutting the fridge after him.

We stand in one corner of the kitchen, chatting, and our conversation flows so easily. He’s an architecture and design major, but he does dance on the side too, with some of his friends. I ask him to tell me the basic things about him and I find out that he has a dog called Kkami, he loves autumn, he’s allergic to cat fur, his favourite food is sushi and his least favourite foods are onion, carrot and eggplant. Even though he’s so handsome (like intimidatingly handsome), he’s so modest, down-to-earth, and just so sweet. He’s like a breath of fresh air in comparison to the boys I spend time with on a daily basis (no shade to Jackson and Joon, but they’re nowhere near as gentlemanly as Hyunjin – he gets me two refills before I even realise that my cup is empty, and he gets me two slices of pizza as soon as it arrives because I mentioned I hadn’t eaten). I can already feel myself crushing on him; every time he compliments me, I get so flustered and all I can do is giggle – two weeks ago me would have hated now me.

After what could be hours (I’m having the time of my life chatting away to him), he asks me to dance with him, and I’m filled with an inexplicable fear. Actually, no. It’s explicable; I have never danced at a party before. Ever. ‘It’s okay… I won’t bite,’ he teases, and I take a deep breath, smiling as I nod. He takes my hand again, his touch so light and gentle, and instead of pulling me along behind him, he lets me go first, standing just a few inches behind me as we head into the living room. We mould into the group of our peers dancing, and I feel a little awkward at first, but I soon loosen up into the rhythm of the Rihanna and Bryson Tiller song pulsing out into the room. He’s really the perfect gentleman; he doesn’t lay a hand on me other than to move me out of the way when someone drunk stumbles past. It’s a nice change from the boys that don’t hesitate to just come up behind a girl and grab onto her waist, forcing himself onto her.

But after a while, I can feel the several vodka cokes starting to take effect, my mind a little hazy, and a tipsy y/n mixed with the RnB baselines floating out from the speakers isn’t a good combination. Hyunjin’s tan skin glows in the low light, his eyes sparkling, and he looks so fucking handsome, his plump lips stretching up into a flawless grin when I hook my arms around his neck loosely, moving closer. We dance a little more… intimately, our bodies pressed together after a few minutes, and his hands rest on my lower back, not venturing any lower, and his eyes stay on my face, even though my cleavage is right there. His gentlemanliness just makes him even sexier to me.

I look up at him, and notice that some of his hair in his face, and so I reach to brush it back behind his ear. His hair is so soft, the locks just gliding between my fingers, and I can’t help but run my fingers through the loose hair that he hasn’t pulled up into a ponytail, my nails gently scraping against the back of his neck. He shivers a little, his neck obviously sensitive, and it makes me look him in the eyes, practically getting lost in them. And before my brain can even register it, he leans towards me and my eyes flutter shut, his lips softly brushing against mine a few moments later. My first kiss.

He moves away, almost to check if I’m okay with it, and I just lean towards him, pressing our lips together again, making him let out a chuckle against my mouth. My mind numbs a little when he parts my lips with his, his tongue sliding into my mouth, and I really didn’t know that kissing was this good. His hands press into my back, holding me against him, and I grip onto his strong shoulders, his scent of lemony shampoo and expensive aftershave flooding my senses as our lips move against each other. ‘y/n, get a room!’ I hear Jin, one of Joon’s stupid friends, shout, followed by laughter, making me break away from Hyunjin, blinking as though I’ve just woken up, Hyunjin just smiling back at me. I turn to Jin, shooting him a dirty look and telling him to fuck off before turning back to Hyunjin. I feel braver than usual due to the alcohol and the fact that I’ve just kissed a boy I met yesterday in the middle of a frat party, and so I ask, ‘do you… want to get a room?’ ‘Um… what?’ he asks, blinking, and I feel the humiliation setting in already. ‘I mean, we don’t have to… but I thought you might want t-’ ‘Yes. I do want to.’

We’re both laughing drunkenly as we head up the stairs (it seems the several bottles of Soju he’s had have made him a little tipsy), our hands clasped together. ‘Whose room are we using?’ ‘Um, we can use Namjoon’s. I’m sure he won’t mind – he’ll be proud I’ve finally kissed a boy,’ I say, leading him into Joon’s room. The second we enter, he shuts the door, pushing me up against it and pressing our lips together again, his body against mine and our hands still intertwined against the door. I tangle my free hand into his soft locks, his free hand gently roaming up and down my side, and it’s bliss, the way he touches me. He’s such a good kisser – though it’s not like I have much experience anyway. ‘Did you say I’m your first kiss?’ he asks, lips moving against mine, and I let out a little noise of affirmation, the boy grinning. ‘Good,’ he murmurs, the word making my stomach turn with butterflies.

But it’s like I’m not allowed good things. There’s a loud hammering against the other side of the door, making both of us jump, and I manage to move out of the way just before it flies open, Namjoon storming in, anger all over his face. ‘y/n,’ he says, voice shaking, and I look at him in concern, wondering what’s happened. ‘Joon, are you okay?’ ‘No, I’m not,’ he says, teeth gritted, and it’s then that I realise; he’s angry at me. ‘Oh, did you… should I have asked you if I could use your room? I didn’t think you’d mind, I’m so-’ ‘God, you’re so fucking dense!’ he shouts, making me flinch, and Hyunjin looks between us before saying, ‘y/n, I’m gonna go, you guys speak in private. I’ll… be downstairs.’ I nod, too shocked to speak, and even more shocked at the way Namjoon stares daggers at Hyunjin as he slips past him.

‘What’s your problem? There’s no need to be such a dick to me, or to Hyunjin.’ ‘Oh, so you do know his name? I’m surprised, since you only met him yesterday.’ ‘Stop being so fucking judgy! You’re allowed to fuck anything with a vagina, but I kiss a boy I met yesterday and the world’s ending!’ ‘I’m not judgy, y/n, I’m jealous! Can’t you fucking tell?’ he practically screams, and the words don’t register with me for a moment. ‘Jealous?’ I echo, and he lets out a humourless laugh, sinking down onto his bed. ‘Yes, y/n, jealous. I’ve only been in love with you for two fucking years,’ he mutters, the words hitting me like a ton of bricks. He’s in love with me. My best friend is in love with me. ‘Joon, I-’ ‘You what, y/n?’ he asks angrily, and I’m filled with such rage, I want to slap him.

‘I didn’t know! If you’d told me, I’d understand why you’re so angry! But you didn’t, so stop fucking shouting at me, and being such a dick, and making me feel guilty when I shouldn’t!’ ‘There was no point telling you, because you don’t love me back!’ he shouts, and now I feel even more guilty. ‘I love you, Joon, but as my best frie-’ ‘And that’s why I didn’t tell you! I could deal before, when I was still getting to spend time with you every day, but now that you’re getting all this attention from all these boys, it’s so… difficult.’ ‘You still should have told me,’ I say quietly, and he scoffs. ‘There was no point! It doesn’t change anything! You still don’t like me!’ ‘No, I don’t, but you shouldn’t be angry at me about it.’ ‘I think I have a right to be angry!’ he shouts, and my eyes fill with tears. ‘Well, you don’t! Forgive me, Namjoon, but you’re not exactly a gentleman. Why would I fall for a boy that has a different girl in his bed every day, who plays girls like it’s his job, who’s misogynistic and vulgar and a dog? You don’t get to be such a dick to women and have your best friend fall in love with you, because it doesn’t work that way!’

‘Oh, and Hyunjin isn’t a dick?’ ‘No! He’s sweet, and he’s kind, an-’ ‘You’ve known him for one day, and you’re already rushing upstairs to lose your fucking virginity to him! I thought you’d care more about your first time!’ he shouts, still so judgmental, and I feel myself practically shaking with rage. How dare he behave the way he does and judge me, even though he’s supposedly in love with me? ‘Why do you care who I lose my virginity to?’ ‘Because I’m in love with you! Aren’t you fucking keeping up?’ ‘No, Namjoon, you’re not in love with me. If you were, you’d be happy that I’m happy. Instead you’re possessive and judgemental and douchey!’ We’re shouting at each other now, and anyone outside will be able to hear, but I don’t care. Let them hear how much of a dick he is. ‘I loved who you were, when-’ ‘When what? When boys didn’t talk to me? When you and Jackson were the only boys I spoke to at parties? When I was pure, untouched, innocent? Now, you’re annoyed, because I’m not who you thought I was. I don’t owe you anything, Namjoon, because you can’t expect me to have just known.’

‘Just go, y/n,’ he says, all of the anger in him disappearing, and he sounds so tired, looks so tired. And, as always, I feel guilty. ‘Joon-’ ‘No. Please, just go,’ he says, and when he looks up at me, my heart breaks. His eyes are full of tears, sadness, hurt, but the second they land on mine, they’re filled with love, too. Love that I can’t reciprocate because, he might be my best friend, but he is disgusting to girls. And I can’t love that. I can’t love him. ‘Okay. I’ll go,’ I whisper, turning away and leaving his room before I burst into tears.

[spnfanficpond]

Pond Diving - emilyshurley

Welcome to today’s Pond Diving Spotlight! We hope that you enjoy this little insight to our members and perhaps even find some useful tips for your own writing. Happy reading!

Want to volunteer, send us an ask! We’re looking forward to learning more about all of you! Not sure what PD is, you can learn more here.

Name: Emily

Age: 21

Location: India

URL: @emilyshurley​

Why did you choose your URL: Okay this is embarrassing. I was trying to sign up for AO3, so I did a quick Google search for two things, what's the name of Dean's daughter? Emma, and Chuck's last name, Shurley

I accidentally typed Emma as Emily and that's it. 

There was a very real chance that my url would have been emmashurley. Thoughts on that one? Maybe I'll change it someday. 

What inspired you to become a writer: Being an only child who wasn't allowed to watch tv for more than 2 hours. And not having friends, that also had something to do with it. 

How long have you been writing: Fanfiction? 4 years (was on Wattpad before this). In general? 12 years, I guess... I remember showing my first short story to my english teacher in 6th class. 

What do you do when you are not writing i.e. Job/Hobbies etc? Cooking, eating what I made. I don't get to cook often so I enjoy it when I can. Other than that, college takes up most of my time. Currently getting my bachelor's degree in science. It's my last year, will probably get master's in zoology next. 

How long have you been in the SPN Fandom? 4 years

Are you in any other fandoms and do you write for them? Way too freaking many. But I write for marvel and I'm thinking of re-posting the very first vampire diaries fanfic I wrote. But are people still into vampires?

Do you do any writing outside of fanfiction? If so, tell us about it? Mostly journalling, but I occasionally take part in writing competitions and things.

Favorite published author: Amish Tripathi (He mainly writes Hindu mythological fantasy? If that's anyone's jam here)

Have you ever read a book that made an impact on your life? Which one and why?: Leap of faith by Danielle Steel. Not for any reason other than the fact that it was the first novel I ever read. My grandfather was reading it, and I told him I wanted to read something too so he gave it to me. 

Favorite genre of fanfic (smut, angst, fluff, crack, rpf, etc):Platonic fluff!!!! Give me all the fics of best friends being adorable. 

Favorite piece of your own writing: Once upon a Winchester. But I gave myself so little canon to work with that I think I'll continue it after the show ends. I have to know the ending to continue it. 

Most underrated fic you have written: Letters to no one. For any marvel fans, it's a two part fic in Natasha's POV, just some letters she thought no one will ever read. 

Story of yours that you’d most like to see turned into a movie/tv show: Project Latrodectus, again marvel. I kinda feel bad for mentioning my marvel fics so much but I'm pulling influences from the story of Eklavya in Mahabharata, which is a Hindu epic so complex that I won't attempt to explain it here. 

Favorite Tumblr Writer(s): Ahh that's a tough one. I love so many people. At this point, mentioning Myin ( @myinconnelly1 ) feels like cheating because another who has ever looked at my posts can tell she's my favourite human. So I'll try not to mention her further. 

Otherwise, Beka ( @impala-dreamer), Kate ( @katehuntington​ ), @katymacsupernatural and other hoomans I can't remember because I have been away from Tumblr for a while. 

Favorite Fic from another writer: Blood and Honey by @kittenofdoomage. And the proposal by @katymacsupernatural

Favorite character to write: Marvel: Natasha Romanoff, Supernatural: I have never written Charlie but I'd love to. 

Favorite Pairing to write: So they are platonic ships but Dean and Charlie, the boys and Garth and Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff. 

Least favorite character to write (and why): Easily John Winchester. I don't know, my brain just can't process his character. Like no matter how many times I try, John just sounds off. 

Do you have anyone you consider a mentor? Irl, my grandfather. On tumblr, Myin. I know, I know I said I won't mention her but Myin is my support system here. No matter what goes on in my brain, no idea is too crazy for her. 

Do you have any aspirations involving your writing? To make people feel less alone because I think that feels like shit. My goal moving forward is to write more Indian reader and LGBTQ reader fics because I think not many people in the fandom (that I know of) are writing those fics. 

How many work-in-progress stories do you have: Four, all of them are series. Technically 2 are my ongoing ones. And one is an MCU x SPN crossover that's taking a while to plan. 

What are you currently working on? Nothing focusing on college these days. But will write random one shots here and there.

“Pond Diving” - All About The Writing

What/who has had the biggest influence on your writing? My inability to write romance. No joke, I don't feel like I write it well. So I tend to write general fics and crack fics.

Best writing advice you've been given: Someone recommended the book, writing down the bones, to me a while ago. In the very first chapter it says, use a cheap notebook (so you don't feel guilty about 'bad writing') and a fast writing pen. 

Since most of my non fanfic writings are done by hand I like that advice.

Biggest obstacle you’ve faced in your writing: Procrastination. I'm the creator of my one misery here. I push stuff till the last moment then complain about being too busy to do anything. 

What aspects of writing do you find difficult when you write fanfiction?Smut. I can't. I don't know I like to say I don't feel comfortable writing it but the truth is I just think I'd put people off. Which is not the intended outcome. 

Is there anything you want to write but are afraid to (and why): More LGBTQ+ characters/reader inserts. Why? Say for example, even though I'm bi, but my version of bisexual Dean might not be something other people would relate to and I'm scared of accidentally offending someone. 

What inspires/motivates you to write: What if scenarios. I love speculating and coming up with the context behind what we see on screen. Like an idea that I'll one day use is, what was Sam going when Dean was in hell or purgatory. Sure in one case he hit a dog and met a girl but how? 

So I want to write more general fics or like filler between the scenes we see on the screen. 

How do you deal with self doubt: By talking to people, knowing I'm not alone in this helps. And sending fics to friends before I post them. 

How do you deal with writer's block: Play the sims. What I mean is take a break, do something completely different for a while. 

Do you plan/outline your story before you start: I don't, for one shots. For series I have to have an ending or else I'll lose interest very quickly. 

Do you have any weird writing habits: Would you consider writing/planning things on paper before writing it on the computer weird? 

Have you ever received hateful comments on your fic and how do you deal with it? I did. My very first fic on Tumblr. It was a Tony Stark x Indian!Reader fic and someone messaged me saying most content media is written for an American/Western audience. And that Tony Stark would never actually do for someone who's Indian because well Indian characters aren't primarily present in the MUC. So no one wants to read it. 

What I did about it? I deleted the fic and every backup I had of it. Because in my head they were right. All Indian get is Bruce Banner doing charity work for "all the poor Indians".

It wasn't until recently that I started talking to @desisamslut that I realised that people actually want to read about reader inserts that are like them. I mean it's called a reader insert for a reason how could I not see it?

Conversely: what’s been some of your favorite feedback on your fanfic?When someone made a mood board for my Black Widow fanfiction. 

If you could give one piece of advice to a new and/or struggling writer, what would it be? Hang in there, no matter how uncommon you think what you want to write about is, you'll find an audience. I mentioned @desisamslut in another answer, the first thing she told me was she has never seen an indian reader fic, so she felt happy when she read the one I wrote recently. 

[rulesofthebeneath]

Hey guys!! 

Here’s the new thing I’ve been writing! I hope y’all enjoy lmao this started as a dumb idea but now I’ve been really emotionally invested in it. I’m gonna try to post about twice a week. Let me know what you think, please!!! Tags: @abunchofbadchoices, @mrsbhandari, @lilmissperfectlyimperfect 

The first time he’d ever told anyone, it was his first boyfriend, and he was met with a sarcastic snort.

“Come on, ‘Jay. That’s just what gay guys say when they’re scared to come out all the way. You can’t be both gay and straight, you have to choose.”

He was fourteen, and had no idea what to make of any of his feelings, much less the weird ones that made his heart beat faster and made butterflies storm his stomach. So he accepted that, and listened to Jake, who was older and wiser than him.

“Are you sure?” he’d asked.

“Yeah. Wait, ‘Jay, do you not like me anymore?”

“What? Of course I do.”

“Oh, good. I was scared you were trying to break up. But I don’t know why you’d say something as crazy as that. You know you can always talk to me, okay?”

Ajay nodded, but deep inside he sincerely doubted that. In retrospect, it was the first of several red flags that had led to a less-than-happy ending for him and Jake.

The next people he told were his parents. As far as Indian parents went, they were pretty open-minded, and hadn’t really cared about him liking guys. He’d even been able to bring home boyfriends or school dance dates without making too many waves with his parents. They didn’t really understand why he couldn’t just date a nice girl, but they loved him anyways, and he knew he was lucky.

But when he’d said he liked both guys and girls, he was met with polite parental confusion.

“What? But you only go out with boys, putra,” his mom had said. “You’ve never brought a girl home. How do you know you like both, hm?”

It was an excellent point. Ajay couldn’t explain how he knew he liked girls, just like he couldn’t explain why he liked guys. But he just did.

His father shook his head. “No, no, no. You’ll have to choose someday. You don’t have to hide yourself and pretend you like girls just to make us happy. You know we love you.”

Ajay hadn’t even known how to respond to that one, so he’d just nodded and excused himself from dinner. He’d never brought it up again.

He’d posted anonymously on a forum for gay youth that he’d found, but hadn’t recieved much other than “that’s not real”, “you can’t like both”, “you have to choose”, “so you’re a cheater?” and “you’re just saying that because you’re scared of committing to life as a gay guy”.

It wasn’t long before he’d just logged out completely, questioning himself. Did he just think he was attracted to girls because he felt like he had to be? Because society said guys were supposed to like girls? Was it true that he was scared of being gay, because of all the homophobia he’d have to face? Especially as a second-generation Indian, he was expected to life the perfect heterosexual American lifestyle, getting a good job and having two or three kids and making his family back in India proud of their success story. Even though his parents knew he was gay and didn’t care, nobody else in his family knew. He hated to think what they’d say about him if they did. They already talked smack about Ajay’s only openly gay cousin, Aditya, and Ajay knew he was basically dead to the family.

So was he just pretending he liked girls to escape the full ramifications of being gay? It was possible, he thought, but probably not. He’d never had a girlfriend or even been on a date with a girl, but that was due to an unfortunate outing incident orchestrated by his ex (another of those red flags he’d ignored).

Despite the fact that he was outed, though, he’d found a group of friends who had thoroughly supported him. Rory, in all of their genderfluid nonbinary aro/ace glory, Clint and Natalie whose sexualities seemed to be oriented towards whichever gender Rory presented as on a given day, Skye who was a goth sapphic icon, James who was the token straight ally, Trevor who was so deep in the closet that Ajay doubted he’d come out this century, then two mysteries.

One was Erin, Ajay’s longtime best friend. He knew she liked guys, but he didn’t know if she only liked guys or if she liked other genders too. He wasn’t about to ask, though, because asking her would lead to her asking him, and he wasn’t quite prepared for that.

The other was Grace, James’ twin sister. As far as James was known as a heartbreaker, Grace didn’t appear to have dated anybody. Or at least, she didn’t talk about it and neither James nor Rory, who’d known her since childhood, said anything about it either. And again, he wasn’t about to ask because of the possibility of the awkward return question.

All his friends would pick on him, good-naturedly, about just how gay he was– how he always dressed sharp, his hair was always neatly combed and occasionally slicked back with gel, how he liked theatre way more than a straight guy could ever, the fact that he couldn’t do math, how his best friend was a girl, his taste for iced lattes, his distaste for anything athletic. Erin had even caught him doing a facemask one morning, and had teased the living hell out of him for it. Ajay didn’t see the big deal– he just wanted to keep his skin clear– but was willing to accept that basic hygiene and skincare were not something that straight men typically did.

It was all in good fun, and Ajay knew that, and he would even laugh along with his friends when they pointed that stuff out. It was funny, he could admit that. And he was gay— that was the only part of his sexuality that was easy for him to admit. He’d found comfort in that label, even though it wasn’t the full story.

In all honesty, he was scared to be openly bisexual. Coming out as gay to his parents after being forcibly outed at school was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do, and he couldn’t imagine doing it again. And how would he explain that he liked both guys and girls? He’d seen what they said on TV and in the movies, even in some books. Bisexuals are promiscuous, bisexuals are cheaters, all bisexuals choose to be either gay or straight eventually. It’s just a phase.

In previous years, in weaker moments, he’d wished he could just be gay. After a particularly disastrous encounter with a girl named Kelly and his very unfortunate crush on her, he’d cursed himself for liking girls when everyone knew he was gay. He tried to convince himself to be gay, to just only like guys, but it never took.

It never took, and it was one of the reasons he resented Rory, who was unapologetically themself. Rory didn’t care what people said, and either way they weren’t interested in dating. Rory had it good, anyways. They had parents who loved them, accepted them unconditionally, and had even thrown them a coming out party. They were just a far braver person than Ajay was, and Ajay wished he could have their accepting family and their confidence and just be who he was.

Ajay sat down heavily at the lunch table, having gotten there surprisingly early. Rory sat there, picking at their lunch absent-mindedly while scrolling through their phone. Grace sat beside them, twirling her hair around her finger and completely ignoring her lunch in favor of staring at something across the cafeteria. Ajay followed her line of sight but only saw the new poster advertising their spring musical, The Tempest.

Grace had snagged the lead role of Miranda after making her high school theatre debut as the lead in their fall play. It was her sophomore year, after she and her brother transferred from a school in Seattle when her parents decided to move back to their hometown and start their own business, a small diner called the Golden Griddle. Grace herself was an impressive actor, and even though Ajay didn’t want to admit it, she was an impressive person as well.

She turned her head as if snapping out of a trance, looking towards Ajay.

“Hey,” she greeted him. “Just checking out the new posters. I didn’t see them before.”

That’s right, Ajay reminded himself. Of course she might not have seen them until now. She had been noticeably absent from rehearsal yesterday, where Skye and Mr. Olsen had presented the new posters and the entire group had spent the last half-hour putting them up all over the school. It hadn’t been a huge deal- there were plenty of scenes that needed blocking, and Ajay had just had Skye stand in for Grace where it was needed. But he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t concerned, especially since he’d seen her twin heading home from soccer practice.

“Yeah, we put them up during rehearsal yesterday.”

“About that,” she started, looking uneasy. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to rehearsal yesterday. I… wasn’t feeling well, and I had to go home early.”

Ajay furrowed his brows. Grace looked so uncomfortable while she was saying that that it was obvious it was a lie, or at least not the entire truth. He wanted to ask her about it, but then James loudly sat down beside her, chatting with Erin, and he dropped it. Grace looked relieved at her brother’s interruption. Ajay shook it off– it didn’t really matter anyways. But he was worried all the same.

“Stop pouting,” Erin interjected,shooting him a ferocious glare. He was so surprised that the frown slipped off his face, causing the whole table to break out into giggles. Even Grace, which eased the worry a little. He shot a fake glare Erin’s way, then had to dodge another glare.

Skye, Natalie, Clint and Trevor showed up not long after, and Rory finally looked up from their phone.

“Hey,” they said. “How was everyone’s morning?”

Skye groaned. “Math test. Kill me now, before my parents see my grades.”

Grace rolled her eyes. “You know you got this, Skye. You knew everything on that test when we were studying last night.”

“Test anxiety is a bitch, though,” Trevor added. He prodded Skye’s shoulder. “I get it. We can’t all be the modern-day Einstein.”

“I resent that,” Grace mumbled, though a small smile remained on her face.

“I signed up to take the SAT at the end of the year,” Erin interjected. “I’m starting SAT prep tutoring this weekend. Three hours on both days.

The entire table except Ajay cringed. “Me too,” he admitted. “I’m gonna need a lot of help if I want a good score on the math section. I can’t make heads or tails of some of this trig stuff.”

Privately, he’d been thinking of asking Grace to help him out after rehearsal. She was already helping Skye on weekends, and though he couldn’t pay her like Skye’s parents could, he thought he’d offer to buy her dinner if she agreed. But that thought remained stuck inside his head, some part of him inexplicably nervous about being alone with her.

While he was caught up in his thoughts, wondering why the girl made him nervous and furiously trying to ignore that part of him, the conversation at the table had continued on without him. James jabbed Grace with his elbow and she jabbed him back. Erin and Rory talked about the college application process, Erin admitting that she wouldn’t be trying for any BFA Drama programs. Clint and Natalie hung on to Rory’s every word, echoing their indignation that Erin wouldn’t pursue drama in higher education. Skye and Trevor talked about set design, Skye even whipping out her sketchbook to add in some details.

By the time Ajay regained attention of the conversation around him, triggered by Erin asking him about that week’s rehearsal schedule, Grace had already zoned back out of the conversation, staring at the poster again. Ajay frowned again. What was up with her?

“Earth to Ajay”, Erin said. “We were arguing over which team was better, softball or soccer. What do you think?”

Ajay quirked an eyebrow. “Erin, I don’t do sports.”

“I don’t know why not. They’re fun! Even just to watch.”

“You know full well I have a complete aversion to any physical activity. But I guess if I had to choose, I’d say soccer.”

Erin nodded knowingly, a smirk playing on her lips. “I can see that. Scoping out the hot guys, are we?”

Ajay sighed “Sure,” he said, trying to sound as defeated as possible. Erin knew how he’d dated Jake a while ago, and he was now the team captain in his senior year at Berry. Erin had a theory that he still held a torch for the guy, though, which couldn’t be further from the truth. The only games he went to anymore were the ones that the whole theatre group went to with Grace to support James. Even though James wasn’t cast in the musical, he was an honorary part of the crew, having stepped in with his calm demeanor during various theatre emergencies. Everyone liked the guy– it was impossible not to– and they made up the loudest group on the bleachers cheering for him.

The only reason Ajay still liked soccer was because it was the only sport he understood. Jake had made sure he’d known everything about soccer, talking about it constantly. Ajay knew his ex planned to play pro soccer in Europe after graduation. Ajay had grown into a soft spot for the game that didn’t end when his relationship with Jake had.

The bell rang to signal that lunch was over, and everyone got up except Ajay and Grace. Ajay, because he was still reeling over the exchange, and Grace, because she was still lost in space, staring at that poster.

“Hey,” he said to her, barely able to make himself heard over the chatter in the cafeteria. “You okay?”

Grace’s eyes snapped to Ajay’s, looking startled for a half-second. “Oh, yeah, just distracted,” she said unconvincingly. She started to gather her stuff, and Ajay echoed her.

He fell into the crowd beside her, trying to make their way through into the hallway. Ajay screwed up all his courage to ask her about tutoring, because he really did need that extra math help.

“Hey, so, I was wondering if you’d be able to help me with my math stuff? I’ll be working on the SAT problems on the weekends but I’m falling dangerously behind in class again. I can’t really pay you but I can buy you dinner or something?”

Grace looked over, a little surprised. “Oh, yeah, sure. You don’t need to buy me dinner, though. I don’t charge my friends.”

“You don’t? But don’t Skye’s parents pay you?”

Grace looked a little embarrassed. “They insisted, and I tried to resist but Skye told me it was just a drop in the bucket for them. So really, I don’t need anything.”

“If you’re sure,” Ajay said. “But if there is anything I can do to repay you, I’ll do it.”

Grace paused for a moment. “Um… if you could help me with English it would be great. I don’t know what any of these old British writers are saying.”

“Sure, that stuff can be hard to digest. Sounds like a good deal for me.”

“Alright. Think we could hit up a coffee shop or a fast food place or something, say twice a week after rehearsal?”

Ajay nodded. “Thanks, Grace.”

“No, thank you,” she smiled. “See you at rehearsal.” Then she ducked her head and disappeared into the crowd.

[artificialqueens]

Revelation Sunshine, Chapter 2 (Courtney/Vixen) - Veronica

A/N: I am so excited to finally be writing this story, especially as part of the challenge. Thank you so much to anyone who’s liked or commented. And especially thank you to the creator of the Galactica universe, @theartificialdane

Last chapter: After flirting via text and social media for a few months, Vixen and Courtney finally met in person, and ended up in bed.

This chapter: After a slightly awkward morning, they try to navigate an undefined long-distance situation.

***

It could have been a lazy morning, cuddling in bed while the rain pounded down outside, streaming against the windows, turning the whole world blurry and surreal. Vixen could have stayed in bed, warm and safe, and basked in the glow of their adorable puppy-love until Courtney had to leave for her photo shoot.

She could have let herself enjoy this—whatever it was, for at least a few more hours.

Instead, she woke up feeling unsettled and insecure, slipping out of bed to hunt down a toothbrush while Courtney dozed peacefully. It wasn’t until she was trying to quietly put her clothes back on and figure out where the hell her coat was that Courtney stirred.

“Good morning,” Courtney said with a yawn, sitting up slowly, tousled hair falling over her shoulders.

“Hey, sorry, I was trying not to wake you,” Vixen said. Her coat was nowhere to be found, she realized, because it was still downstairs where she’d checked it when she arrived. She rolled her eyes at her own alcohol-fueled stupidity and shoved her feet into her shoes.

It seemed to take Courtney a few moments to comprehend what Vixen had said, brow furrowing.

“You weren’t gonna say goodbye?” she asked softly.

Vixen froze.

“No, that’s not what I...I just know it’s early and I didn’t want to bother you with-”

Shit.

Courtney pulled the blankets up over her chest, an inscrutable expression on her face.  

“Look, I know that I have a reputation for…” she paused, swallowing, “...I guess, taking this kind of thing lightly. But, that’s not what this is. I really like you.”

Guilt bloomed in Vixen’s chest as she moved to the bed, sitting down beside her. It actually hadn’t occurred to her, until this very moment, that Courtney might be feeling a scrap of the insecurity that plagued her. Everything about her life felt so charmed and perfect and easy; it was hard to remember that she was human too.

“I’m sorry,” Vixen said sincerely. “I really like you too. I just...I wasn’t thinking.”

Courtney nodded. It seemed like she believed her, so Vixen decided not to push it.

“Um...you fly back tonight, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And then your tour starts on-”

“Friday,” Courtney answered, a hint of resigned exhaustion in her voice before adding a chipper, “Can’t wait!”

Vixen chuckled softly.

“Well...then I guess I’ll see you when you’re in Chicago.”

“Yeah?” Courtney’s eyes shone hopefully.

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it.”

Courtney gave her a lopsided grin, which deepened when Vixen moved closer, kissing her lightly.

“Hey, um...text me later. Tell me about that museum,” Courtney told her, fingers lacing with Vixen’s.

“I will. And you...let me know how everything goes today.”

“Sure.”

When Vixen pulled back to look at her, she was relieved as the brightness in her eyes. It was going to be a long couple of months, but with things being what they were, it seemed unwise to try and define their relationship any more than “can’t wait to see you again.” So for now, this would have to do.

***

Trying to keep a lid on her obvious fuming, Vixen typed out a text.

Sorry to bother you right now, but the guard won’t let us in without backstage passes. Can someone maybe call him?

“Where are your passes?” the guard said again, crossing his arms, a scowl on his face.

“I...already told you, we don’t have passes, but I’m supposed to be on the list. Toni Taylor.” Vixen shifted, indignation rising in her chest as he stared her down. She was not going to lose it, though. Not here.

“You’re not on the list,” he said, giving a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Show him the text!” Monet said, elbowing her in the ribs.

“Oh right...sir, look. I have a text from Courtney Act that says to meet her here. I just contacted her again, but I’m sure she’s busy, so if you could-”

“How the hell do I know that’s a real text?” the guard scoffed.

“I...how far would we get if it wasn’t?!” Vixen asked, exasperated. “You think her people are just gonna let us in? Do you think that we think we can sneak around anywhere?” Vixen gestured to their group, five tall Black women all in bright, colorful club wear. Not the most inconspicuous of groups.

COURTNEY: OMG COMING NOW

“She says she’s coming,” Vixen said, looking up at the girls.

“Herself?” Monique asked, head tilted questioningly.

“I...I don’t know,” Vixen said.

But in fact, within 2 minutes, Courtney rounded the corner, in silver thigh-high boots and a makeup smock, hair half in curlers, the blonde offset by fresh rainbow highlights, marching towards them like a bat out of hell. A terrified redheaded boy wearing a headset followed on her heels.

“Where are they?!” Courtney demanded, then looked up and spotted Vixen, her face softening, hurrying toward her. She wrapped Vixen into a tight embrace, saying, “I’m so sorry about this, are you okay?”

“Yeah, we’re fine,” Vixen laughed. “Don’t worry, no one got out of line.”

“Okay. I’m sorry, this kind of shit is so fucking irritating.”

The guard, utterly chagrined now, started to stammer out an apology, but Courtney held up her hand.

“It’s fine. It’s your boss that I’m annoyed at.”

“So are they all on the list for-”

“Yes! All of them! Jonathan, give them the passes.” Courtney snapped her fingers at the ginger boy by her side, who hurriedly handed out VIP backstage passes to the whole group as Courtney led them back down the hall to the green room.

Mayhem and Monet exchanged a glance, Mayhem mouthing, ‘BAD ASS,’ and Monet laughing silently, nodding.

When they finally reached the large green room, Courtney turned around, urging the girls to make themselves comfortable.

“Have a seat anywhere. There’s food, drinks, and I…” she clasped her hands together. “...I’m so sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, girl. I love seeing someone yell at a douchey bouncer. Hi, I’m Monet.” She reached out a hand towards Courtney.

“Monique,” Monique jumped in quickly. “…and this is Mayhem.”

“Monet...Monique...Mayhem…” Courtney repeated with a nod. “Well, that’s gonna be a challenge.”

“Why?” Vixen asked, brow furrowed. “‘Cause all Black people look the same?”

Courtney’s eyes widened in alarm.

“No!” she insisted. “No, I meant because it’s just a lot of M names! And if-” she stopped short, seeing the stifled grins on all the faces around her, and narrowed her eyes.

Unable to hold back any longer, the girls all burst out laughing, peals of laughter bouncing off the walls. Courtney shook her head at Vixen, grinning.

“Good one. I almost had a heart attack,” she said, finally allowing herself to chuckle.

“Vix, what have we told you about scaring white girls just before their concerts?” Asia asked.

“Uhh...to do it?” The girls continued to laugh.

“Hey...I’m Moesha,” Asia said, and Courtney nodded slowly. When Mayhem hit her on the arm, she grinned and said, “Just kidding. I’m Asia.”

“Thank god,” Courtney breathed, a relieved giggle escaping. “So, I’m so glad you guys are here, but I kinda need to go finish preparing. I, uh…” She gestured to her half-done makeup and hair.

“Of course. Don’t worry about us,” Asia told her. “You go do your thing, get your makeup done, we’ll just be here. We’re gonna switch shirts and then test you on all the names.”

“Brilliant,” Courtney laughed. She turned to Vixen, fingers brushing against her wrist, asking, “Do you wanna come...hang out while they finish my makeup? You can see Kylie.”

“Sure!”

“Who’s Kylie?” Asia asked coyly, and Vixen turned around to give her a warning look before following Courtney into the adjacent room.

“Her dog.”

“Oh. Pity. I was hoping that it was her pus-”

“Asia!”

***

The concert was great—Vixen hadn’t seen Courtney perform for years, and she’d certainly upped the production value. Plus, having a VIP experience with some of her closest friends was awesome. It felt like the old days, all of them laughing and drinking and dancing and gossiping like school girls. Asia especially made her feel some type of way—ever since making partner at her law firm, she’d been working so much that Vixen hardly saw her. But tonight, they felt like kids again, even doing shots at one point, laughing until their stomachs hurt.

By the time they met Courtney backstage, collapsed in a sweaty mess on one of the green room sofas, Vixen felt pleasantly buzzed, happy and warm all over.

They settled in with more drinks and Indian food ordered from a nearby restaurant.

“So, how do you guys all know each other?” Courtney asked.

“College, mostly.” Vixen said, telling her how Asia was her RA freshman year at Hillman. “I was a fucking mess,” she said, laughing.

“You sure were,” Asia agreed, telling Courtney, “She spent most of the Fall semester on my carpet in tears.”

“Awww…”

“Well, fuck you, I had a lot on my mind!” Vixen snapped, then giggled again. “And, uh...Monique was in the same dorm. Although we didn’t really become friends until that Spring.”

“Yes! That philosophy class, with the...ugh,” Monique recalled, shaking her head.

“Monet was my study partner until she abandoned me,” Vixen went on, and Monet laughed.

“Listen, I just didn’t connect with all that sociology jargon. It didn’t speak to me,” Monet said.

“And uh, Mayhem met Monet through some educational leadership networking bullshit, right?”

“Yeah, that’s right.” Monet nodded.

“And now we’re just...a bunch of boring ladies who work too hard and meet like once every 2 months for brunch,” Monique said.

“Party!” Mayhem added, clinking their classes.

Courtney grinned, listening to them share stories of their debaucherous college days and their sordid, stressed out twenties. Vixen could tell she was exhausted, knew that she was sacrificing her precious few hours of sleep before she had to get back onto the tour bus, just to hang out with her and get to know her friends.

Vixen kept looking over at her with a stupid, goofy smile on her face. At some point, it became permanent, making her cheeks hurt.

When the tour manager pulled Courtney away for a quick discussion, Asia took Vixen’s hand and squeezed it, saying, “Now, I know you don’t need my approval…but I like her.”

“Thanks,” Vixen grinned. Well. Continued grinning.

“And tell her I want tickets to the Oscars.”

“Oooh!” Monet chimed in. “I wanna go to the Tonys!”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’ll be her first priority, guys,” Vixen said with an eye roll.

“It’s not fair...why can’t a rich, famous pop star fall in love with me?” Mayhem whined. “I’m very lovable.”

“Ehhh,” Monique gave her the ‘so-so’ gesture and the rest of the group busted up laughing once again.

Later, after several rounds of good-bye hugs, the girls headed for their car, and Vixen lingered behind, telling them to go ahead without her, she’d get her own car. (And then of course, she had to pretend not to see Asia’s knowing wink.)

“We had a great time, I really...you were fantastic up there,” Vixen said.

“Thank you for coming,” Courtney said, leaning against the door frame. “Now, don’t get me wrong, all audiences are special, in their own unique way…”

Vixen laughed, reaching out to cup her cheek.

“But, um…” Courtney trailed off, eyes shining as Vixen’s thumb grazed her skin.

Vixen leaned in, watching her eyes fall closed before pressing their lips together. The kiss was soft and sweet, and fairly chaste. But when Vixen pulled away, the dreamy expression on Courtney’s face made her heart hammer heavily.

“I love your hair like this,” Courtney said, admiring the gold woven into her twists.

“I tried to glam it up for you.”

“You’re beautiful.” Courtney’s lashes fluttered, arms wrapping around Vixen’s waist.

“So are you,” Vixen said, hands still cupping her face. “So...I know you must be pretty exhausted...but…you’re also really hot.”  

Courtney bit her lip and leaned in for another kiss, lips trailing down her jaw and then nuzzling into her neck. She heaved a deep sigh.

“I really want you, but I can barely keep my eyes open,” Courtney admitted, voice muffled against Vixen’s skin.

“So...maybe I should leave, and let you rest.” She trailed her fingers through Courtney’s hair, watching the way her colorful highlights caught the dim light, not yet ready to let go of the moment.

“Okay,” Courtney agreed, hands still gripping her waist tightly.

Of course, she ended up staying. By the time they settled into Courtney’s hotel room, they barely had 3 hours. So Vixen just wrapped Courtney into her arms and held her, enjoying this little sliver of affection before she took off again, knowing that it might not be until her tour ended in October that they would see each other again.

***

Vixen had watched the video twice already, feeling only mildly ashamed as she started it again. Courtney was lying on a yoga mat, post-workout, skin glistening with sweat. She picked up a bottle of water, the video switching to slow motion as she began to pour it all over her face and chest. She batted her wet lashes, blinking the water out of her eyes before looking directly into the camera and slowly licking her lips. The whole video was just silly enough for plausible deniability (especially the caption of “oh no, i spilled!”) and yet unmistakably alluring. And of course, Vixen’s stomach flipped every time she saw that tongue. What was wrong with her?

VIXEN: Wow. Your last post was…

COURTNEY: You like it? ;)

VIXEN: You look like a THOT

COURTNEY: LOL! Are you slut shaming me?!

VIXEN: I mean...

COURTNEY: Wow. And here I thought you were all about empowerment. Smh

VIXEN: FINE. Go ahead...live your best slut life.

COURTNEY: Aww, thx! Xoxo

***

Vixen was deeply aware of what she said on social media. As much as she wanted to pop off at people (and had, frequently, back in another lifetime, years ago), she knew that her academic credentials required at least a small semblance of self control.

So for the most part, she kept her tweets and instagram comments brief and professional. Almost formal.

Courtney, however, had no such rules for herself. She basically said any and everything on her mind, commented unabashedly, posted without filters. (Except like, literal filters, which she seemed to enjoy tremendously.) It was both endearing and, at times, deeply concerning for Vixen, for whom privacy was essential.

For instance, there was the story from Seoul Pride, where she met up with one of her old friends, Adore Delano—the two of them gallivanting around, drinking and laughing and screaming like idiots from a parade float. The whole thing culminated in a video of Courtney in a nightclub, glassy-eyed and extremely proud of herself, literally licking Adore’s face.  

And then when Vixen posted a still from an interview with the Tribune, she immediately responded with nothing but a row of 10 heart-eyed emojis. Which led to Vixen getting hundreds upon hundreds of comments from what she presumed were Courtney’s (very young) followers: unbridled, hysterical excitement the likes of which she had never seen.

VIXEN: Um. What...with all due respect...the fuck?

COURTNEY: Oh yeah. The shippers. Sorry, I should have warned you.

VIXEN: I mean. Jesus fucking Christ.

COURTNEY: We’re OTP #couplegoals now. I’m afraid you have to marry me.

VIXEN: Seems that way, doesn’t it? BTW where are you? What time is it? Shouldn’t you be sleeping?

COURTNEY: Berlin. 4 am. Yes.

VIXEN: Say goodnight, Courtney

COURTNEY: Goodnight Courtney <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

***

A few days later, after finishing some rather emotional office hours (why every student felt the need to unburden their deepest traumas on Vixen that Wednesday, she didn’t know), she took a much-needed break, sipping a cup of coffee. She saw the picture right away (okay, maybe she had alerts set up by now, whatever)—Courtney curled up in bed with her dog, wearing a fuzzy pink unicorn onesie with turquoise accents and a ridiculous rhinestoned horn.

VIXEN: I can’t decide if it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever worn, or like...mortifying

COURTNEY: Both!

VIXEN: Lol, fair enough

COURTNEY: And perfect for cuddling ;)

VIXEN: I’ll bet!

COURTNEY: Why don’t you send me a pic in your favorite sleepwear?

VIXEN: I’m supposed to be a respectable member of the faculty, and you want me to use school wifi for that?

COURTNEY: SEND NUDES XXX

VIXEN: Lol

*

About a week later, a box showed up at Vixen’s front door. The return address had Courtney’s name and an unfamiliar return address. She assumed it was fine, but her suspicious nature required a safety check.

VIXEN: What’s in this package that just showed up at my house?

COURTNEY: OMG! That was so fast!! Open it!!

VIXEN: So, not a bomb? Please confirm

COURTNEY: Lol, no. Open it.

Vixen took the box inside, cutting it open carefully. Inside, there was another box, pink and shiny, with a card on top. The note read, ‘To replace your hoodie. Perfect for snuggling. XO, C.’

She lifted the lid on the pink box, and nestled inside was a fluffy turquoise dragon onesie with iridescent pink scales. It was the silliest thing that Vixen had ever seen. Silly and beautiful and perfect.

VIXEN: Damn. I guess fantasies do come true.

COURTNEY: I hope so...

[toomuchbroadwayquotes]

This might be ignored,its a long read, but if you want to have your forces restored on feminism my dead feminists i really wanted to share something that is making me tear up every 5 seconds.

As some of you might now, in my country (Brasil) we currently have a situation where our "president" is a misogynist (said he had a bunch of boys, they he went weak and have a daughter that's a "small" example for yall), homophobic ( said he would beat the gay out of his son if he ever "got it"), racist ( talking about killing native Indians and saying slaverism was a choice yadayada) anyways, just a piece of crap, we call him Bozo, like the clown. Well ever since his election we have been feeling so down (I'm sure my American friends can share the feeling). We are the country that kills more transexual people on the world. And it's not even illegal here, that would put into perspective. So, all this are real, serious problems, but bear with me as I get I little... naive maybe?. Well we had 20 seasons of BigBrother over here (Or BBB, Adding the Brasil at the end) and the show is on "the liberals tv channel, all the conservatives try to boycott it yadda yadda ") . But this season is just a gem. I feel like a revolution is happening and (I'm crying rn) I can't even put into words. Its gonna sound ridiculous, but you have to understand that 1) TV is a huge part of our culture, and is 100% connected with politics for us. 2)This show has been silencing woman, making men do anything they want without consequences and put woman as simple objects for their enjoyment. And somehow every year we wouldcomplain about how that was the reflection of our country. Something like this year edition NEVER HAPPENED BEFORE.

Our LGBT movies, Theather and books are being censoreds right now. Our country is on the verge of becoming a conservative doom.

The secretary of health system said :abstinence of sex is the best way to avoid DSTs and pregnancies. THATS HOW DEEP IN SHIT WE ARE. And we feel voiceless. Is like they are the majority you know?

Is like, you know when Katniss made every distric rebel by leading an example on the hunger games? Is THAT KIND OF SHIT. So, firsts things first:

I will introduce you the leaders of our current feminist movement

First, Thelma, she is not just ya regular powerful black queen. She is a doctor, with a bunch of degrees on stuff I can't even pronounce,she is specialized on anesthesia and she is a resident like those bad ass ones in grey's anatomy. She she is A BOSS. She is strong, and even though she is not 100% familiar with the feminism in "theory" she lives it in practice with out even knowing it ( now she knows, cause the other two are teaching her!) I want to make clear that on this reality show, the majority of the public has always been racist, and black people normally are eliminated first, yes it sucks and is one of the reasons I stopped watching a long time ago, as most of us millenials, but thank God we came back. She isn't going ANYWHERE CUZ WE ARE NOT LETTING THAT HAPPEN.

The second one is Marcela, every since the first we saw her she said loud and clear:I AM A FEMINIST, she is also a Doctor. She calls her self doctor unicorn, she is an OB/GYN and choose her career because she wanted to fully support her transexual brother /yess/, she is also expert on female sexuality and give classes about it, think Carina Deluca. She also takes care of sexual abuse victims. Oh yeah, she is bisexual as well. And everyone is shipping her with the next one btw.

Now our last warrior: Gizelly, She is a Lawyer, and she advocates for woman, she has suffered all the types of abuse from her ex husband and after all the trauma, she decided no one would do that to her again. Feminist, we call her the hurricane, she just shoots fire and defends any woman that is being belittled.

What happened was, some guys decided they would "seduce"any woman who was in a relationship outside the reality show, so they would look bad, and be eliminated easily. Wellx those 3 heard that, and they just couldn't get quiet. They went and tell all the girls about it. Some of them didn't believe them, the guys said they were CRAZY, and were LYING (what a shock)

The confrontation scene:

So one of them said: If I am lying, I will be eliminated this round. If I'm back, then you are the lier. So, regular reality show stuff right?

Here are some things you should know: Marcela, the leader ( as she was the one with the initiatives) was anonymous when she first got on the show, and 13 days later, she had 2 MILLION FOLLOWERS. Every feminist, every LGBT+ and ally on this country just woke up ya know?. We were all mad as hell that they were being treated as liars, but, and that's a HUGE but, the guy mentioned earlier was against one that was even worse. He was touching inappropriately the girls while they were completely DRUNK at the parties ( they wouldn't remember later), he was the one who actually made said plan mentioned before, but they didn't knew at the house because he was a completely different person when he was alone with the guys. A complete scumbag, he mocked and made fun of every woman on the house because of their looks etc. Sooo, all those millions of feminists watching were like : "do we take the biggest jerk and make the girls think we think they are lying or ?" Well, we decided to take the bigger toxic monster first, and left the other one for the next. But we had a special card. Every year, after the show starts, they put a glass house in the middle of a mall, with 4 candidates inside, we vote for 2 of them to be on the actual show yada yada. What happened was:people started showing off by the mall, with posters, begging for whomever got in the house to :"PLEASE TELL THE GIRLS EVERYONE BELIEVE THEM. THAT THEY ARE NOT LYING. THAT THEY HAVE MILLIONS OF SUPPORTERS. THAT HE ONLY CAME BACK BECAUSE THE OTHER WAS WORSE ETC"

So, last night was elimination day, the worst one got out with 80% elimination A victory for us (there were 4 people on this run, and one of them is a Black guy, fat, older than everyone else, and by history, he would obviously be the first eliminated but he was the one with LESS VOTES. AGAIN THIS IS UNPRECEDENTED IN OUR COUNTRY SPECIALLY SINC THE FOURTH PERSON COMPETING IS A CARISMATIC YOUNG KOREAN MAGICIAN YOUTUBER WITH A NETWORTH OF MILLIONS, BUT THE BLACK GUY WAS LESS VOTED THAN HIM, GUYS I CAN'T STOP WRITING IN CAPS.The second worst one tho, comeback celebrating, saying he knew he was right. Singing victory. The girls were crashed. No one understood and they all started crying and talking about how it was a reflection of our country, but that they wouldn't change their ideals etc. (Again, they didn't knew everything trash bag number one did, cuz he did it in secret so they thought it was an answer)... well, 2am, the couple from the glass house got in. And they told them. They said everything. How the public loves them, and the why the other one got out first, and how we knew they were saying the truth. This part is just a sweet ending for y'all. They then proceeded to get all the woman in one bedroom and talked and talked, they even explained to the ones who had some deep patriarchal mindset and were believing the boys up until that point, they had conversations about feminism, about not accepting to be treated that way, they cried, they were so relieved, it's silly because is a reality show, but last night everyone felt like we were supported. Like, people got our backs! People agree that we wont take that bullshit anymore. In other editions those guys would be the handsome guys that all the girls would die to be with, you know? But know they are the villains. It happened. The girls are not the crazy ones. They are not the powerless wones. They were the STRONG ONES forming OPINIONS, moving the big pieces on the board.

I can't even talk about how this will impact on many young girls, especially with all those girls having such strong stories you know? Today is a reality show but whatch us on the booting vote! Watch us at the March's. Just watch us. I'm telling y'all. Brasil is gonna turn this shit upside down.

Anyways here is a little clip of when our guardian Angel Dan, told the girls that they should trust Marcela's word

The relief the felt, we all felt. Having your word taken seriously after being called crazy and lier...

( even the production of the show tryied to deny the guys plan was real before the videos started pouring up, and they had to take back after saying on national television that Marcela was lying. Because that was the standard)

[laceyspencer]

Post-Modern Feminist Ideology in Nayantara Sahgul Select Novels-A Critical Study-Juniper Publishers

Introduction

The motive of feminist movement strives towards the aim that women should have the same rights and opportunities as men. Though feminism is not a relatively new concept and has always formed part of the women’s liberation movement, its emphasis has been changing, in form and content with gender equality being one of the aspects. There is no doubt that feminism is today a major accepted fact of modern life with women competing with men in all walks of life, and even doing better than them in some areas. Women’s liberation was not merely an endeavor to obtain rights and privileges but the seeking after opportunities to show that though they may be called “the second sex” (the title of Simone de Beauvoir’s book). They are generally not treated on a par with men in all respects of human activity. Whether working in the fields or operating women lag men in any sphere.

Over the years, there has been a positive change in the standpoint of feminism towards humanism. Simone de Beauvoir has set the ball rolling when she explained the relationship of feminism with humanism in a frank, concise manner. The crux and thrust of The Second Sex are based on the emphasis that women should be considered as basic human beings. To her, 2 the expression of women and their status seemed discriminatory, with them being denied the right to be identified as separate entities as such and prevented from choosing their own destiny[1].

Nayantara Sahgal is one of the great Indian women novelists writing in English. She began writing since her childhood and became a professional writer in the post-Independence years. Her novels deal with men and women, especially women struggling against oppression and injustice heaped upon them in the name of tradition and culture. Nayantara was born on May 10, 1927 to Ranjit Sitaram Pandit and Vijayalakshmi Pandit as the second of their three daughters. She lived as a child in Anand Bhavan, a large 3 aristocratic home of Motilal Nehru, a flourishing lawyer in Allahabad along with her parents and with her Marnu (uncle) Jawaharlal Nehru (later to become Prime Minister of India) and her cousin Indira Gandhi (she also became the Prime Minister, after Nehru). Nayantara’s father Ranjit Pandit was a Maharashtrian, a lawyer by profession, erudite, and a scholar, well versed in many languages including Sanskrit. He was a man of abundant love and understanding with a healthy zest for life, indulgent toward his child Nayantara.

He gave up his lucrative profession answering the call of Mahatma Gandhi and entered whole heartedly in the non-cooperative movement against the British regime. He inculcated the literary fervour and noble sentiments of patriotism and an unbending will to fight against injustice and oppression. Jawaharlal Nehru, attracted by the ideals of Gandhiji, involved himself in the struggle for Independence. His father, Motilal Nehru followed the example of his beloved son, espoused Gandhian ideals, eschewed the life of luxury to which he had been accustomed. Anand Bhavan was the meeting place for the great leaders of political movement including Gandhi himself. Nurtured in such a congenial atmosphere for the flowering of an independent spirit the young Nayantara imbibed the spirit of independence with great vigour.

Nayantara believes that it is not a serious moral offence in a woman to break away from the “sacred” marriage bond, if she finds the shackles too oppressive to the growth of her inner self. She finds that a woman’s duty to be sincere to her inner self is far greater and urgent than to be for her family and society. Nayantara portrays the inalienable right of freedom in women in many of the characters in her novels, such as Simrit in Storm in Chandigarh, Saroj in The Day in Shadow and Rashmi in Rich Like Us.

Nayantara Sahgal has in fact introduced a considerable number of autobiographical elements in her novels. To a question, she asserts that “all art is autographical”. Her work ranges from factual and emotional autobiography to fictionalized autobiography. In her address to Colloquium at Radcliff Institute (America) she confesses the close links between her own experiences and that of some of the leading characters in her novels. She describes succinctly in an article as to how she grew up moulded by congenial circumstances, she says:I grew up during the National Movement. My parents went to jail repeatedly during our fight for freedom. My father died because of his last imprisonment released too late to be cured of the serious illness contracted in jail. My uncle became our first Prime Minister. I was born and brought up within the atmosphere and hopes and ideals of the Congress Party.

Its leaders were familiar to me. Our home was their meeting place and many decisions momentous to India were taken in it. I became a novelist and a political journalist, and all my writings, fiction and non-fiction, has been about contemporary India. (Voice for Freedom 55). This Time of Morning is another novel, which she completed in Kashmir in 1965[2]. The Day in Shadow was published in February 1971. This novel, acclaimed to be the best by most of her critics, describes her attitudes to marriage and the condition of women in general. She wrote an article “Of Divorce and Hindu Women” in The Hindustan Times (Dec, 18, 1971), which is an example of her liberal and permissive outlook: She stands for new morality according to which a woman is not to be taken as a mere toy, an object of lust and momentary pleasure, but man’s equal and honoured partner, in word and deed, as against the inhuman tradition postures (l8).

Prison and Chocolate Cake (1958) and From Fear Set Free (1962) are autobiographical in which she has given a graphic account of her experiences during the freedom struggle which naturally were responsible in moulding her as a writer. A Time to be Happy (1958). A Situation in New Delhi (1977) and Storm in Chandigarh (1969) are classed as her political novels. Rich Like Us published in 1985, uses Emergency as its backdrop and the theme is about freedom. She won a Fellowship of Woodrow Wilson International Centre, Washington DC for writing it. Sahgal herself has adjudged this novel as her best. Plans for Departure (1986) is an interesting novel in which a foreigner Anna Hansen visits India, takes up an in-depth study of Hindu customs and behaviour and passes dispassionate judgments. Mistaken identity (1988), a historical novel, is the story of Bhushan Singh, the only son of a feudal raja of Vijaygarh, a kingdom of one hundred villages in the Gangetic Plain. Set during the years 1929-32, this novel is a satire on the role of the raja or the British. As it mainly deals with rajah and has no relevance for the present study, this novel has not been included in the thesis. Her latest work, Lesser Breeds, was published in 2003, is not included in this present study simply because of its irrelevant concept regarding this research work.

The present paper is the result of my hard work and dedication. It mainly focuses on Feminism in the of Nayantara Sahgal. Though She works on various themes but here concerns are the pathetic condition of women in the patriarchal society. Nayantara Sahgal’s leanings towards feminism even though mild, are quite marked in her novels Storm in Chandigarh and A Situation in New Delhi. The fact comes and to light when one studies the underserved ill-treatment many her women characters in these novels must undergo in the society and tries to know. Why they are driven to committing suicide or to seeking divorce, or to undergoing torments defenselessly when it becomes unavoidable. The women character who is driven to committing suicide is Madhu in A Situation in New Delhi. The society that Nayantara creates in A Situation in New Delhi is one which fails to protect women even on the university campus in the capital city of the country as here Madhu a student of Delhi University is raped in the Registrar’s office[2].

The boys who rape Madhu clearly consider Madhu only as an object of lust to be used at their disposal and have no regard for her feelings will and self-respect. A society which produces such men and cannot punish them does not deserve to have women in it. One may raise an objection and argue that the whole society should not be disparaged for what three boys do, because if this society has produced these three boys it has also produced Usman Ali the Vice-Chancellor, who only expels the three guilty boys but6 also braves a physical assault and finally resigns as Vice Chancellor in the order to organize people against fights the forces responsible for the rape of the girls, but the fact remains that his efforts bear little fruits and at last, the girl realizes that even her brother would be thankful when he was relieved the responsibility of her” and commits suicide in a state of helplessness by immolating herself. So, it is obvious that this society has failed to create conditions in which women feel themselves safe and out of the reach of immoral men.

The women characters who have opted to move out of the conjugal walls to escape ill-treatment are Saroj in Storm in Chandigarh, and Lydia and Nell in A Situation in New Delhi. Saroj’s husband under ill-treats his wife chiefly for her having lost her virginity before her marriage as is evident from the following piece of conversation between him and his wife:“Well why did do it? That” I keep coming back to why did You do it?” “I was fond of him,” she said wearily “and I was curious. Is that a crime?” “Good God. Didn’t you have Any inhibitions, any Sense of modesty? Couldn’t your curiosity Wait till you got married” (23).Nayantara Sahgal has a central woman character that gradually moves towards an awareness of her emotional needs.

Nayantara Sahgal’s novel reads like commentaries on the political and social turmoil that India has been facing since independence. Mrs. Sahgal’s feelings for politics and her command over English are rather more impressive than her art as a novelist. She is a novelist as well as a successful political columnist for different newspapers. Her writing is generally characterized by simplicity and boldness. Her writing abounds the latest political ups and downs with a tinge of western liberalism. Her novels portray the contemporary incidents and political realities saturated with artistic and objectivity. All her major characters of the novel are drawn towards the vortex of politics [3]. Besides politics, her fiction also focuses attention on Indian woman’s search for sexual freedom and self-realization. As a women novelist, Sahgal recognizes that her primary obligation is that of advocating the emancipation of women. She has probed deep into the female psyche in her novels. She describes in her novel how women exploited even during the modern times by both the individuals and the society. She tried to Portray the sensibility of woman that how a woman looks at herself and her problems [4]. She considers her novels political in content and intention and in her view, each of the novels her contemporary reflects and political era.

The use of the fictional genre is one of the main aspects of her novels, wherein she can explore the problems of women in contemporary society. Though Sahgal has been hailed chiefly as a political novelist, her feminist concern is obvious and her fighter spirit quite vocal in her fiction. In all her works, there is juxtaposition of two worlds: the personal world of man-woman relationship and the impersonal world of politics. The portrayal of her memorable women characters and the feminist tone in her fictional discourse make Nayantara Sahgal one of the most outstanding feminist Indian novelists writing in English [5].

Nayantara Sahgal is not only a novelist of repute but also a journalist by profession. She confesses that fiction is her “abiding love” journalism her “conscience”. Talking to Ram Jha in 1987, Sahgal said that her two kinds of writing experiences-that of a novelist and that of a political journalist-though contrary to each other, are mutually sustained because, her central focus in both areas in the same-the concept of freedom in human beings, national and personal and her increasingly feminist concerns. Most of her characters belong to the affluent upper class, she does not caste-ridden middle class or the poor Indian village just to conform to the accepted image of India. Her range of characters simplifies her technique. She does not have to struggle to present Indian conversation in English as most of her characters are the kind of people who would talk and think in English in real life [6].

Storm in Chandigarh is Mrs. Sahgal’s third novel written after A Time to be Happy and This Time of Morning. It deals with complex human relationships in which love, friendship, honesty, freedom and equality play a vital role. The ‘Storm’ in the lives of three married couples, Inder and Saroj, Jit and Mara, Vishal and Leela is portrayed against the political backdrop of the storm or confrontation between the newly divided states of Punjab and Haryana over the issues of Chandigarh and Bakhra Nangal territory act…Gyan Singh, the ambitious Chief Minister of Punjab has announced a strike in the whole region for the selfish purpose of demonstrating his political strength. He is only concerned with his personal gains and does not even hesitate to use violence as a means for achieving his selfish ends. While Harpal Singh, the Chief Minister of Haryana acts as political counter oil of Gyan Singh as he is a behavior of Gandhi an ideology of non-violence. He has always given priority to the interests of people against his self-interest[7].

The union Home Minister is assigned the task of affecting a rapprochement between the two warring states of Vishal Dubey, an honest and promising central officer. Dubey goes to Chandigarh from Delhi to solve the political impasse but unwillingly involves himself in the private lives of the estranged husbands and wives especially those of Saroj and Inder [8,9].

Nayantara Sahgal’s contribution about treatment of themes is enormous and varied. She dwells upon contemporary events in her novels like Storm in Chandigarh, Rich Like us and A Situation in New Delhi. Her novels Plans for Departure and Mistaken Identity were a creative vision towards the happenings of India before Independence. The influence of Nehru and Gandhi on Sahgal is clear and she has offered a fresh insight into Gandhism, Nehruism and their impact on the evolution and progress of India. A.V. Krishna Rao [9] succinctly states:“Nayantara Sahgal has inherited and cherished a certain set of values and attitudes towards like which can be best described as a complex of political liberalism, social sophistication, economic moderation and cultural catholicity in continual interaction with the Gandhian idealism” (44).

Nayantara Sahgal’s Storm in Chandigarh depicts the suffering of marital friction apart from the political and social ups and downs. It narrates the life of Inder and Saroj. Sahgal pens the suffocating experience of marriage for both the partners. Most importantly, the writer highlights those wrong features in marriage which causes separation. Sahgal, in this novel, deals with marital as well as political crisis. Division in political front and friction in marital relationships are the main themes of the novel. Duality and deceptiveness are prevalent in politics and marriage. In this novel character come close to each other but without any emotional attachment and sincerity. There is no sensitiveness or loyalty in their relationship; It seems a temporary bond[10].

In the novel Storm in Chandigarh Sahgal narrates how the attitude of dictatorship destroys harmony of marital status. Marriage which strongly needs love and faith of both the partners, can breakdown also in presence of doubt and frustration. The main protagonist of the novel Saroj has committed mistake before marriage. She has her first sexual encounter with one of her friends before marriage. When Inder came to know that, he started tormenting his wife physically as well as mentally. However, Inder himself indulges in an extra marital affair with Mara.

Love and satisfactionare not much prevalent in this affair also. Basically, Inder is a character who always denies individuality of women. He considers woman as a parasite; who could survive only with the support of a male figure. Here the writer portraits the pathetic plight of Saroj who tries to show her love and affection towards her husband but in vain. Throughout their lives, Vishal and Leela remained strangers to each other. He is possessed by a deep sense of guilt for living with her without love and his relationship with Leela abruptly ends due to her death. Vishal’s marriage had been a failure[11,12].

Being a widower, he is deriving satisfaction in a connection with Gauri, a Bengali businessman’s wife who finds security in arranged marriage but who needs and establishes a relationship with Dubey which is based only on sex. Nayantara Sahgal is quite bold in her political approach. She dismantles the age-old notions of women being inferior. She is one novelist who is clear in her perception that man-woman relationship should be based on equality, understanding and love. Man-woman relationship without love is prostitution and nothing else[13].

Go to

Conclusion

Among the women novelists of Indian Writing in English, Nayantara Sahgal emerges as a powerful voice to challenge and question the “received” versions of history. She not only calls the officially-ordered ‘histories’ into question but also exposes the male-dominated and patriarchal power-structures behind them. By delineating India’s history and politics in her fictional narratives, she creates an alternative discourse to subvert them and thereby construct her own writer-specific version. She achieves this purpose by using the various narrative techniques and devices and puts them side by side with the official discourse. Sahgal’s fiction also centers on the political history of India and how it has affected the perceptions of ordinary men and women. Her main interest, however, remains to raise the questions of women and so the basic purpose of envisioning India’s history in her fiction rests on her concerns with the social and individual problems of women and their search for identity. Sahgal herself has overcome her problem of identity-crisis through her writing.

https://juniperpublishers.com/asm/ASM.MS.ID.555583.php For More Articles in Annals of Social Sciences & Management studies Please Click on: https://juniperpublishers.com/asm/index.php For More Open Access Journals In Juniper Publishers Please Click  on: https://juniperpublishers.com/index.php 

[kimyoonmiauthor]

Why Your Books Will Get Banned (Old Nanowrimo Post)

I used to post this game on Nanowrimo. I saved the text before Nanowrimo declared that the N-word spelled out was OK and this wasn’t a democracy (2010, in the archives, at the bottom). I figure it’s OK to post that unless they didn’t change their policy since then, because they want prejudice (though that wasn’t the worst of what they wouldn’t mod). Writing forums need to be run at the top by diverse people, and not just white women. Separate post though. BTW, I have witnesses who still remember this incident, so it isn’t slander. I was working on diversity in the writing forums before WeNeedDiverseBooks was a thing and squandered the opportunity by making it only YA. And I’ll still call them out for that. It got challenged, this thread once, much to the laughter of everyone. (for being anti-Christian lol) If the writer is out there that challenged the thread and somehow got published. Thumbs up, good for you. Maybe you revised since then? The thing I didn’t post with this post every year from 2005-2010 I did this post was I posted it because I wanted people to think hard on Free Speech and what it meant. So I’ll hardball it this time. As you read the list, think hard on who is gate keeping. And who has the right to gate keep. Is gate keeping a tool to oppress and do the power minorities have a right to use the same tool back? How many books don’t even get a chance to be published? I’d also add that chasing after individual authors for the last 10 years has done nothing to change the system. The percentages are the exact same. And how that affects what people in the future will think of us now. Can you write a book that won’t be challenged on these fronts at all? And if you’re going to say, “You’re anti-cancel culture” This was posted before “cancel culture” was a thing. This is more like an examination of the system of censorship itself. (Because look, I like examining systems.) If you want to take this list, BTW, this is years and years of my work reading through ALA who never compiled this list. I’d been following the list since High School when I did a banned book class (which was a fad of the time, I think). So... maybe, give me credit? I feel sad I have to say that. And thanks to Jakob Nielsen and my Typography prof for teaching me the way to format text.

This thread was originally started in honor of ALA Banned Book Week. I've started this several years in a row. Disclaimers for this thread: ('cause I've done this for a few years) 1. We do not support the idea of banning/challenging books. 
2. We are doing this for fun and it should not be taken seriously. 
3. If you are seriously offended by the fact that we would write these scenes into books please consider the following:
a. It is out of context.
b. You probably unwittingly own a banned book without knowing it. Please check the list: <a href="http://www.ala.org/bbooks/frequentlychallengedbooks">http://www.ala.org/bbooks/frequentlychallengedbooks</a>
c. We are not popular enough to get our books banned, and by hoping in a weird way that they will get banned, you are helping our egos. ^.~
d. If you are religious, the Qu'ran, the (I think Ramayana), the Torah, the Bible all have been challenged or banned. (KJV of the Bible if you plan to be snooty, by even more ironically Jews once, and Atheists the second time). (The Art of War, I also believe was challenged/banned.) (And also, the Bible probably contains more than half of the issues that Christians ban other books for. Christians banned Moll Flanders. All the issues the banned Moll Flanders for is in the Old Testament. Particularly Genesis) 
4. This is not a thread for hot debate on the moralities of book banning. It is for listing why you think your book will get banned. If you would like to do so--please start a separate thread. You don't have to stick to Nanowrimo for this thread either.

General Notes: ('cause I like to point out the humor) - This thread was challenged and asked to be banned before. (Because someone was offended by the contents.) The challenge failed, BTW, just in case you'd like to challenge it again. - You probably have to write Young Adult and under to get banned *most* of the time. - Asterisks indicate new ones for the year. (BTW, most of it is about Islam, this year... sex and violence of course)

Want to avoid getting banned/challenged? (Categorized by how the banners see it for maximum head desk based on real book challenges and bannings.)

RELIGION You can't talk about religion. -- No taking the Lord's name in vain. -- You can't have anyone question the will of God or curse them when they lose faith after losing their best friend. (Bridge to Terabithia) -- Anything from Islam --- Cannot include Islam, even as a text book, because it will "indoctrinate the students into the Islamic religion." even if you are only covering it as a chapter. * (World History by Ellis, Elisabeth Gaynor and Anthony Esler.) *

-- Anything (fill in your religion here.) because some people are (fill in your exclusionary term here) -- Atheism (though not a religion, still argued by the theists as one. =P) -- You can't swear, including the word "damn." -- A boy and a girl can't live together if not related, because it's obviously living in sin. -- Can't be detrimental to Christian values.* (The Handmaids Tale, which is BTW, based on a Biblical story...) (The Bible, Torah, Qu'ran and many other religious books have been banned. Yes, if you have a religious book,  it has most likely been banned or challenged.)

SOCIAL INEQUALITY You can't talk about class or classism.

You can't talk about race. -- You can't use racial slurs. -- You can't talk about racism. -- You can't have a black bunny marry a white bunny because that's supporting interracial marriage. (The Rabbit's Wedding, though Once Upon a Time in Wonderland also does this explicitly... must have enraged the challenger.) -- The book can't be deemed racist in any fashion. -- You can't talk about Mexican-American issues or history. (Apparently it's a lie that Mexican Americans get racism. *cough*) (Arizona Governor, though it was overturned later). -- You cannot have a Person of Color explicitly on the cover of the book. (Barnes and Nobles pulled that off with Cindy Pon's Silver Pheonix--not to mention all the other publishers.)

No talking about over eating, bad eating habits. No talking about disabilities including cerebral palsy. Can't be sympathetic to Armenians or for portraying Azerbaijans as "savages" [book burner's words] (because apparently you will get a $12,700 price on your head to *cut your ear off* for being historically accurate.) (Stone dreams by Aylisli) *

QUILTBAG Issues: -- You can't talk about sexuality. (As in the willingness to have sex). -- You can't talk about sexual orientation. (As in Straight LGB) -- You can't talk about gender identity issues unless it is cis and not crime investigation kind either. - Main character cannot have two fathers. (The Popularity Papers by Amy Ignatow)

Magic Issues: You can't have talking animals. (Peter Rabbit.) Oh, no magic, no mention of witches, and no fantasy (That promotes Satanism and teaches them to do evil satanic spells).  (Harry Potter)

VIOLENCE Children can't do violence, especially to adults or to each other. Especially school violence. You can't have kids doing stunts or possibly hurting themselves. No realistic depictions of the Vietnam War. Can't be Graphic.* (The House of the Spirits) - Cannot have violent illustrations.*  (The Librarian of Basra by Jeanette Winter and Nasteen's Secret School by Jeaenette Winter)

No dysfunctional families. -- You can't talk about child abuse.

No characters may ever die. -- No dead parents. -- No dead siblings. -- No dead best friends (Even if you are a Christian author, other Christians will come after you).  (Bridge to Terabithia) -- No dying adults. -- You may not mention anyone dead (already) or dying (currently). -- No young infants dying. -- No talk of euthanasia.

You can't have any mention of cannibalism. (Alive, etc)

DRUGS You can't mention any drugs, including alcohol, especially with teenagers drinking it. (The Perks of Being a Wallflower--though there are many others) --- Children can't carry alcoholic beverages.

GENERAL MORAL OBJECTIONS You can't have it be morally corrupt. -- You can't have monsters of any kind. (Where the Wild Things Are) It can't be a "Downer" (Anne Frank) And by all means it can't be "icky." "gross" or "scary" (Goosebumps) Can't be perceived as Anti-feminist.* You can't be a PoC and write something negative about being a PoC.* (The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian) - Cannot have "inappropriate content" (Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman [Welcome to the banned books club, Mr. Gaiman.])* - You cannot have a single mother. (The popularity papers by Amy Ignatow.)* - Cannot be a "Bad book" that "one shouldn't be associated with."* (Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison) - Cannot have "an underlying socialist-communist agenda."*(Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison--note it was challenged in her own home state for this....) - Cannot have a book that goes on about "developmental preparedness" (i.e about children developing?) and "student readiness."  (The Story of a Childhood by Marjane Satrapi)*

No children defying authority figures. -- No cursing at parents. -- No disobeying parents. -- You can't have kids breaking dishes (especially to avoid washing them). (A Light in the Attic)

No toilet humor. You can't have characters eating worms, because that's unsanitary.  (How to Eat Fried Worms)

SEX Your book can't mention any private parts. You can't mention body parts (this was how it was phrased. --;;) -- Even if you have drawings of lots of people on the beach, not even one of them, even when drawn at 2cm x 2cm can be topless, even as a joke. (Where is Waldo) -- No talk or showing of nudity.  (even when private parts aren't shown) -- You cannot teach sexual issues in your book to middle school students. * (The Middle School Survival Guide)

You can't have masturbation or any mention of sex. -- No beastiality -- No showing of safe sex. (Apparently Teen pregnancy is still A-OK, but safe sex isn't! --;;) -- And you can't use any words with "tit" in them. (Title will now be called tidle just not to offend anyone.)  (Harry Potter)

Rape may be seen by banners as a type of porn. (I see it as violence, but the banner saw it as titilating sex. --;; *gags*) (Speak)

AUTHOR CAN'T BE... -- LGBT (Asexuality, apparently, is still safe.) -- You can't have the same name as anyone connected to "Socialism" or "Marxism." (Texas School board)

Good luck getting it published.

So yes, this was started as satire. If you have any further questions about said history of said thread, you are welcome to PM me. Do not start it in the thread.

And please reply using the "reply" button at the bottom of the page, not this post.

Banned books for this year PDF: http://www.ila.org/BannedBooks/ALA016%20Short%20List%20L3c_low%20%281%29.pdf

[letterboxd]

Top 100 Women Directors.

Ella Kemp takes a deep-dive into our newest all-time stats addition—the top 100 films directed by women—and finds, to nobody’s surprise, that Agnès Varda is indisputably the GOAT.

There are countless ‘best of’ lists on Letterboxd to track your progress against; some are maintained by our staff, while others are contributed by passionate members. If you’ve upgraded to Pro or Patron level, there’s a section on your all-time stats page (accessible directly from your profile) where we’ve gathered twelve key lists against which you can track your progress at a glance (example below), and we’ve also added ‘Completed Collections’ for Patrons, showing all franchises of three or more films that you’ve seen in their entirety (excluding unreleased entries).

In the interests of promoting a diverse range of titles, we’ve recently added a Top 100 Women Directors list to your all-time stats, compiled by Jack Moulton and ranked by overall weighted average rating. In other words, these are the female-directed (and female-identifying-directed) films that you, the Letterboxd community, have chosen as the best.

To celebrate, we invited Letterboxd member, writer and Girls on Tops photographer Ella Kemp to cast her eye over the current list (it’s bound to change in future based on new ratings cast).

Encompassing thousands of votes to meticulously rate and root for the greatest films we have courtesy of women directors, Letterboxd’s newest all-time list offers a sobering dissection of the way we consume movies—and how much we recognize the women responsible for these works.

At first glance, a scroll through the list boasts a generous handful of posters designed in the last couple of years. Five features released in the past twelve to eighteen months have made it straight to the top 20 (Portrait of A Lady on Fire, The Farewell, Booksmart, Lady Bird and Capernaum) with one of those films—not even publicly released in cinemas yet, but making waves at festivals around the world—already sitting at number two. That’s the power of Céline Sciamma and her Portrait.

Céline Sciamma’s ‘Portrait of a Lady on Fire’ (2019).

Diving deeper, Sciamma’s top-tier triumph exemplifies a few key patterns. She returns at number 64 with Tomboy, reminding us what a great shame it is that her excellent feature Girlhood didn’t make the list, but confirming that France appears to be one of the best countries in the world for women to make movies: the list comprises 23 French features, which, considering the US’s oft-perceived monopoly on the film industry, feels monumental.

But of course, it’s not accidental either. This year sadly marked the passing of Agnès Varda, indisputably the GOAT. She stands proud as the most prolific contributor with six features, two in the top 20. To grieve, to remember, at least we can always keep watching.

Another singular trailblazer is Scotswoman Lynne Ramsay. She has four entries, but what’s most impressive is that these are, well, all the feature films she’s made to date. Her fourth entry, Morvern Callar, sneaks in at number 100.

Elaine May and Chantal Akerman both have three entries, which may come as no surprise to cinephiles, but it’s also the same number of entries as Japanese animator Naoko Yamada (whose A Silent Voice sits in sixteenth place on our list). This reveals an open-minded slant, one that acknowledges the widely perceived touchstones but also embraces further-reaching works from lesser-known artists. Five features are Japanese, four are German, three Italian, and three Indian.

Naoko Yamada’s ‘A Silent Voice’ (2016).

The lean still remains very much with the US, and yet few films on the list break records for eye-watering budgets. The Matrix, courtesy of the Wachowskis, was made for $63 million, and Shrek, co-directed by Vicky Jenson, had a budget of $60 million. Aside from these two, projects on the list seldom had more than $10–15 million to get the job done.

When looking at the list’s omissions, one almost unanimous absence is that of the highest-grossing films of all time directed by women. No Sleepless in Seattle, no Frozen, no Fifty Shades of Grey. No Nora Ephron, No Nancy Meyers. No Ava DuVernay. It’s a peculiar gap, as the influence of these writers and filmmakers is hardly one to be contested. And, to close the circle on big budgets, $120-150-million-wielding Patty Jenkins is also absent. The highest-grossing film directed by a woman (with no male directing partner)—a cool $821.8 million at the global box office—did not make the cut.

On this topic, there are sixteen films co-directed by women on the list. A co-directing mention is a crucial credit. It’s like the trust exercises that used to be taught in school drama classes—how would they work if one party wasn’t there to catch the other as they fell? What’s the point in being brave if you don’t also have some kind of promise of safety? Partners need each other, and these directors needed partners to reach the heights they did. City of God, co-directed by Fernando Meirelles and Kátia Lund, was nominated for four Oscars, and yet Meirelles was still the only filmmaker credited at the ceremony. The Academy chose to disregard Lund, but our list does not. There are five female co-directors in the top 20. One of the highest-grossing films on the list, Shrek, would not be what it is without Vicky Jenson.

Also curious: Palme d’Or winner Jane Campion makes the list, best director Oscar winner Kathryn Bigelow does not. Overall, the list shows a vast body of skill, a crop of familiar names, some deeply felt absences and—hopefully—a whole lot of additions to watchlists. Further names that deserve to be sought out, in no particular order, include Mabel Normand, Maya Deren, Josephine Decker, Jennie Livingston, Mia Hansen-Løve, Dee Rees, Joanna Hogg, Gurinder Chadha, Barbara Hammer, and directors with new films soon to be released: Marielle Heller (A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood), Niki Caro (the live-action Mulan) and Kasi Lemmons (Harriet).

Chantal Akerman’s ‘Jeanne Dielman, 23, Quai du Commerce 1080 Bruxelles’ (1975).

Writing this breakdown gave me plenty of homework, and it shed light on a lot of works that I’m yet to catch up with. At first I thought it pretty normal to not have seen as many on the list as I would have liked, taking into account my age, access and time, but the further I went, the more names cropped up that I didn’t recognize, and the more I recalled my three years studying film at university and not having learned anything about so many of these women.

I should know more names. I should have been set more assignments regarding more of these names. I can do more, but so too can those above me, those who taught me and continue to teach others, about who makes the films that are worth learning about. We now have lists such as this one—it’s high time we start to properly use them.

Header image: Agnès Varda (with her own 1962 self-portrait) in Faces Places.

Related content

Films Directed by Women: Vanessa’s comprehensive—and growing—master list, and her shorter, highly recommended list

Female Cinematographers: The Master List

Written by Women: a master list of scripts written by women

Five filmmakers Jane Campion wants you to watch next

Our Q&A with Debra Granik

Little White Lies’ 100 Great Movies by Female Directors

Female directors recommended by Tilda Swinton

Iranian Women Make Films: a list of Iranian female directors

Merata: How Mum Decolonised the Screen: the story of trailblazing Māori filmmaker Merata Mita (available on Netflix, distributed by Array)

[whatevenismyaestheticidk]

Things I’ve heard high schoolers say pt 2

Person 1: But air doesn’t splash Person 2: How do we know that, Im splashing the air right now.

Person: Prove me wrong. Prove fish can’t see air.

Person: I think you underestimate just how poor I am.

Person: I just invented a new thing. No Romo. Like no homo but with romance cause I’m lonely. Get it?

Person: So yah I burned my hair cooking ramen.

Person: Well I figured he wasn’t an adopted iguana.

Person: Say it. You know god is watching.

Person 1 upon heading the news of George Bush’s death: Wait he’s still alive? Person 2: No he’s dead that’s the point.

Person: I got it. *five second pause* no I don’t got it.

Person 1: My name is (name), but you can call me yours. Person 2: Okay nice to meet you yours.

Person: Don’t drink it all fool.

Person: Bruh you could literally turn in a gay fanfic and he’d give it an A.

Person: Bruh, what is this triangular accusation?

Person 1:It’s call physics. Person 2: Yah but I don’t take Physics hence they should not apply to me.

Person 1: Discreet. Person 2: No discr-yeet *dabs*

Person 1: Be impressed with my ability to bull shit. Person 2: I mean, it’s gotten you this far.

Person: Why do I feel like finals are lowkey Russian roulette? Like okay I made it through most of them but I still have a few pulls of the trigger to go and one of them might get me.

Person 1: Murder. Just do it. Person 2: I didn’t know that nike was sponsoring murder.

Person: How do mermaids reproduce if they’re just like conjoined legs?

Person 1: Frozen Yogurt Person 2: Fro yo Person 1: Frozen YOgUrt Person 2: Fro Yo Person 1: FROZEN YOGURT

Person: All I have to do to commit suicide is jump from my parents expectations to my grades.

Person 1: I mean yah I cheated on that test. Person 2: Man your love life it DOOMED!

Person: I was seeing if I was tripophobic by repeatedly stabbing my finger with my pen.

Person: You do know that crickets exist during the day right?

Person 1: Hey (person 2), we’re friends right? Person 2: ….. What do you want. Person 1: You know, that sandwich looks real good. *person 2 hand them the sandwich* OMIGOD THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE YOU!

Person: Omigod (person’s name) is going through puberty!

Person: If you pulled my ear I would have ripped out your nostril.”

Person 1: She’s attacking me! Person 2: No, he’s beating a woman, that’s not polite.

Person 1: I know many things! Person 2: like what? Person 1: ..... Person 2: my point.

Person: My shoes will be sparkly red stilettos. Fight me Dorothy.

Person: umm hello Christmas miracle even though I’m not Christian. Come at me 15 years from now!

Person 1: you’d make a really good baldie Person 2: yah you have a really rest head shape

Person: you know teletubbies? Yah that but compressed.

Person 1: I mean how will you become American? Person 2: paint me white, I’ll get a passport.

Person 1: I’m so funny. Person 3: it’s hard not to be when your life is a joke.

Person 1: So I’ve decided that my new career choice is to make school specific memes Person 2: That's Plan A? Yeash... at least Plan B lands you some cash

Person: I’m so small and bitter I’m like a human expresso

Person: You know what I’d name a baby kangaroo if I had one? David Jowie.

Person: I’m just saying that the orange red glitter crayon is you.

Person: I feel like a 1940’s schoolgirl who goes to an all girl finishing school where embroidery is a required class.

Person: I started high school with straight A’s, now I’m not even straight.

Person: Yeah, I’d swear by comic sans.

Person: (Persons name)stop being depressy and you’ll be more sucessy

Person: You can totally be insecure and self absorbed at the same time.

Person 1: Are you kids okay? Person 2: Besides crippling depression yeah.

Person: I don’t know it’s just giving me pig vibes.

Person: What drugs where the animators for “Pink Elephants on Parade” on?

Person: long story short I make like a semi hot guy.

Person: If I where pregnant id just be like 'you put this thing inside of me, you're helping me until it's out.'

Person: These girls asked me what type of  guys I like and being the simple gay I am, I completely blanked

Person 1: why do you read on your phone if you get carsick at 20 minutes? Person 2:Because it works for the first 19 minutes.

Person: Three Indians, a Thai, a Colombian, and an American walk into a bar. Just kidding they aren't old enough to drink. Three Indians, a Thai, a Colombian, and an American walk into a school cafeteria...

Person: I can't do alcohol cause I'm not of age but I can do drugs because they're illegal for everyone.

Person 1: you can't have a breakdown, it's the third day of school. Person 2:... so?

*Group of kids singing Bohemian Rhapsody in twelve different keys* Person: For gods sake choose a key!

Person: For gods sake that was complicated. You didn't need to send out a survey to see which episode of which season of which show to watch.

Person: Honestly I'd chose stab over dab any day.

Person 1: She said she'd throw me out of the window. Person 2: She never did. Person 1: She never did.

Person: What language is this? *pause* Oh wait it's English.

Person 1: I mean it's pretty hit or miss. Person 2 from across the courtyard: I guess they never miss, huh?

Person: Chu-chu bitch. I’m a train.

Person after loosing game of kahoots: I’m going to ka-shoot myself.

Person: So basically I need to learn Hungarian for a song.

Person: No one screams their sneeze, its not human

Person: If I where a mosquito I would bite you and you’d get malaria and die.

Person: That tide pod aesthetic.

Person: No I loved Barney, Barney was my bo.

Person: If I where my own boyfriend I’d dump me.

Person: It's already a really good song but then it's dubstep so it's extra good.

Person: No one is EVER to old for coolmathgames.com

Person 1: Why are you using a poon? Person 2:….. Person 1: WHY ARE YOU USING A POON?!

Person 1: I’ve been blonde for 16 years. Person 2: So what? I’ve been brown for 16 years and you don’t see me coloring myself white!

Person: Yes. Scrape the sweat off my hand.

Person: No one cares about a square cube of water.

Person: We’re melanin intoxicated.

Person: Well my life may be a mess, but at least I’m not doing drugs. Yet.

Person: Negative 13 out of 10, do not recommend.

Person: Yah that’s gunna have to be a no from me.

Person: Fool me once......fool me twice.......fool me as many times as you want, my first name is dumbass.

Person 1: Ya know, I think the Americans have the order of dates right JUST BECAUSE you can do 4/20/2019. Person 2: Okay but they’re still wrong though.

Person with AirPods: And where are YOUR AirPods? Thats what I thought you broke bitches.

Person: Salem witch trials bitches.

Person: La Croix, the AirPods of the soda world.

Person: Who needs a thermometer when you have… your hands!?

Person 1: It’s time to bring back SEXY MASQUERADE BALLS Person 2: It really is. I need an excuse to wear an incredibly uncomfortable dress that's so big I can't even walk through doorways. Person 1: And to wear a swan inspired mask that doesn’t cover enough of my face to deem myself totally anonymous enough to be half as bold and daring as i plan on acting that night but everyone else is on board we’ll all just forget about it the next day. Person 2: That's to specific for you to have made up on the spot, you've thought about this.

Person: It was lady Macbeth that drugged and made the guards drunk, without her Macbeth would just be like “I guess I’ll stab him???” Person: It’s like playing where’s Waldo but the page is India and I’m Waldo.3Person: Why are there so many frowny faces everywhere?

Person: This group chat is weird. It's either homework, deep philosophical conversations, or memes, there's no in between.

Person 1: Honestly, where DID it come from Person 2: The endless abyss that is the internet.

Person: Are you really blaming our generational depression on Jake Paul?

Person 1:  Oh. My. God. Guys. Keep your carbon dioxide away from my computer. Person 2: But sharing is caring. Person 1: But my computer doesn’t need this kinda of negativity in its life right now.

Person: Sweetie, if you think I’m going to stop wearing my favorite dress just because you kissed me in it, you are dead wrong.

Person with a metal straw: I don't drink broke.

Person: My whole life has become that sock on the floor. It's just there. When did life screw us over and then just ex? I’m just gonna write a book, and the last sentence will be life screwed them over and then exed. A story of the main character who gets screwed over, so I can get that 'it be like that sometimes' reaction.

Person in group chat: Positivity- I will make you feel better about being an idiot. Self Doubt- I will highlight all of your mistakes and set low standards for you so you'll never be disappointed. Me to Self Doubt- I'm listening...

Person 1: Sadly the disappointment never goes away... Person 2: Man we're a sad lot this time of year.

Person 1:It’s almost my favorite time of the year Person 2:Ahh yes. Singles awareness day, also known as chocolate sales at Walgreens eve, also known as... Valentine's Day. Person 1:... Oh... I meant rainy season.

Person: Being antivax is like swimming in shark infested waters because you're afraid the bridge could break lmao.

Person: I learned how eat a kumquat this weekend.

Person: It’s so sticky. It’s like clear cheese.

Person: Hamburger helper? More like hamburger help me pass this class.

Person 1: So I slipped on a grape… Person 2: You got K.O.’ed by a grape (person’s name), how does it feel.

Person 1: Look at me, I’m fine. Person 2: Well how many drugs did you take. Person 1: Several.

Person 1: Did you just say it’s ALMOST FEBRUARY? Person 2: Yes, it’s January 72nd.

Person: I knew your comedic standards where low, but poop jokes? Really?

Person: What? So are you insinuating the fact that reliablest isn't a word?

Person 1: [bitter old man voice] back in my day, tik tok was a kesha song. Person 2: Back in my day we had wires attached to our AirPods.

Person: There's a reason rainbows aren't straight. Just saying.

Person reading sheet music and seeing mf crescendo: I forgot that mezzo forte was a thing for a second so I thought it said mother fucker as a crescendo but mood

Person: He looks like a fine piece of toasted white bread.

Person: If life hasn't given me a fist bump by now, why should I give life one?

Person: we all died in 2012 this is hell.

Person 1: Who wants a pamphlet on condoms? Person 2: Why do you have this? Do you collect them? Person 1: Yah it’s my hobby. I have this one, one on HIV and one on teenage pregnancy.

Person: We live a society where reading about assassins and gory details is a hobby.

Person: Stop breathing so loudly on my thumb!

Person 1: I’m the comic relief. Person 2: For what? Person 1: Myself.

Person1: Who’s your valentine this year? Person 2: Me, myself and I. Person 1: Wow three valentines, you really can’t keep them away can you?

Person: Why do women gotta get their period, why not men. I wish I was born a seahorse.

Person 1: No we can’t all fit, her car is smol. Like you. Person 2:  Says you miss 5 foot nothing lmao. Person 1: Hey we’re the same hight so says you miss 5 foot nothing.

Person: No, that’s cheating no emotionally disabling people.

Person 1: Why is it that we’re talking about someone burning eggs on two different group chats. Person 2: Hey I didn’t burn them. Person 3: Cause why not?

Person 1:  That’s not how an Australian accent works. Person 2: This is why I’m not Australian, I don’t have the koala-fications.

Person 1: I’m Indian, numbers run through my blood. Person 2: That’s like saying I’m going to marry my cousin just because I’m white.

Person: So I ate veggies and hummus for lunch but then I counterbalanced it by eating a spoon full of straight Nutella.

Person: Seagulls, California Pigeons, what’s the difference?

Person 1: I humbly apologize and request your forgiveness. Person 2:  I humbly decline your request for forgiveness.

Person: I think I’m permanently stuck somewhere between “If you mess with me I’ll fight” and “If you mess with me I’ll cry.”

Person 1: It was implied! Person 2: What’s implied is your inability to accept that fact that I’m right!

Person 1: I got lazy because I was eating Pringles. Person 2: She values Pringles more than me.

Person: Yo, you be the crazy ex girls they be talking about in memes.

Person: I swear (persons name) if I hooked up with squidward in your dream your subconscious and I need to have a little talk.

Person: You get to die, and you get to die! Everybody gets to die!

Person: How do you just add a child?

Person 1: Look at this ink based pencil. Person 2: A pen?
 Person 1: This egg is all broken. Person 2: It’s like you then, you both broke under the pressure.

Lakshmi: Don’t force your opinion, voice it.

Person 1: If I where a fruit, which one would I be? Person 2: Sushi. Person 1:… Sushi isn’t a fruit.

Person: I mean it’s not straight up “Yo come here I’m gunna kill you.”

Person: Bye gays, bye (other girls name).

Person 1: No (person B) stop. Just shut up. You’re making me loose brain cells. Person 2: But… Person 1: No. Just no.

Person: Stop. That is non-consensual pizza eating.

Person 1: Cheese is not a vegetable! Person 2: Well it’s not a meat either! Person 3: Guys… It’s dairy.

Person: Idiots have priority over just regular dumb people

Person: God melted the polar ice caps just to make it rain for Noah then refroze them. I don’t know (kids name) I’m not god!

Person: You and I will go out, and leave them to their raw fish rolled in sea salad.

Person: Does anyone else get really energized when they change their room? Just me? Okay.

Person: I hope you know I will diss you guys to the end of the earth.

Person: Bruh talk to (person’s name) I don’t know sh… *notices teacher looking at her*…niahhh.

Person 1: The thing is, I don’t want to be 80 that’s rough. Person 2: Then just die at 50.

Person: You’d be scrambled eggs with hair.

Person: Seeing you two fighting, it’s like seeing a piece of light fighting a black hole.

Teacher: What can you tell me about probability? Student 1: I hate it. Student 2: Dont you mean you? Student 1: Yes both.

Person: My brain has the dumb I’m sorry

Person 1: If my first word was no, I’m assuming that’s foreshadowing for them my family disowns me after I renounce religion and systemic abuse. Person 2: Or…. You just need to make sure your last word is yes. Person 1: Yes to what though? Person 2: ‘Are you dying?’ Yes.’ Pessimism, just your style. Person 1: That’s true.

Person: My parents don’t message me, they’re the type of people who CALL. Where did I get my social anxiety from??

Person: Well guys it's been great knowing you I’m just going to drown now.

Person: I figured out a new diet regime, it’s called sleeping until noon and just not eating breakfast.

Person: The f on my birth certificate was the doctor paying their respects.

Person: Chocolates with raspberry filling are the sole reason I’m still alive.

Person 1: Isn’t Latin a dead language? Person 2: You’re a dead language!

Person: Hydrate before you diedrate.

Person 1: you have a son named Spider-Man? Person 2:  what noooo! Person 3: well don’t expose her!

Person: That awkward moment when you just really don’t care about people.

Person 1: (Person 2) and I will be over here with my virgin margarita and her water. Person 2: Hey! I want apple juice! Person 3: Why are you not drinking (Person 1)? Person 2: Because she’s to single, and also she’d strip. Person 1: Woahh! How dare you assume that I’m not drinking because I’m to single?

Person 1: Ya know, I think I’m going to have to jazz hands my way through hell. Person 2: All of us will.

Person: Brown town children, y’all find someone in India?

Person 1: Wow you have the best backup singers. Person 2: I only hire the best, at least 5 stars in yelp. Person 1: Well good because that’s  the sound they’re making.

Person: The cold kills everything, it’s like my heart.

Person 1: Remember the rolls I brought to school last year that I used to give you? The ones with paneer and the really good spices? Person 2: Yah? Person 1: This is not at all the same thing.

Person 1: What’s stevia? Person 2: It’s like sugar but no.

Person 1: Yeetus Skelettus. Person 2: Fetus Deletes? Honey, that’s called abortion.

Person: Anything for you. That’s what you said. Anything for you. But when I ask for just one bite of your pasta? No!

Person 1: I've written 1,300 words and don’t have a thesis statement or topic question Person 2: Yeah, you need to figure that out.

Person 1: you know I had a dream that you where in a romantic relationship with a toaster. Person 2:  wasn’t that your relationship with (ex’s name)? Person 1: you’d have more chemistry with a toaster.

Person: Can people read colors? Cause I am ooo.

Person: It’s like hands but medusa

Person: You look like a cardboard jellyfish that’s brown

Person 1: Two of us like boys. Person 2: We all like boys. Person 1: Two of us like ONLY boys.

Person: you’re like a reverse plant. You convert oxygen into carbon dioxide.

Person: Shhhhh. I’m not in physics, let me be dumb in peace.

Person: Why are you laying down like some greek god, get up you brown child.

Person 1: Do all of you just think you’re going to be single? Person 2: I already am why not keep the streak going to get a high score?

Person: and now cracks of light are coming out from around the sides like some sort of computer Jesus!

People 1 and 2: Rock Paper Scissors Person 3: shoot me please.

Person 1: not since 9/11 you can’t. Person 2: dang. You just tossed your whole country just to prove a point. I’ve never been so proud.

Person 1: what is an angle of depression? Person 2: it’s my life. Person 1: no it’s you because it’s not straight.

Person: Boom. Lesbians.

Person 1: Well what if two rocks just washed up at the same time and humans. Person 2: Evolution.

Person: Watermelon isn’t good anymore, I swear its just water with food coloring.

Person: You being dumb makes me want to correct you, sos too being dumb cause I’m on vocal rest.

Person: well (persons name) who have you a mouth?

Person: Teachers that grade late work deserve all the love and cookies and cake in the world.

Person 1: honestly I just want to die right now. Person 2: same. Literally same.

Person: I just feel like a single molecule lost in space.

Person: who’s gunna stop me? God? Damn him to hell.

Person: the line is not actually straight it’s like (students name)

Person 1: It’s your favorite sleep deprived gay. Person 2: But I’m my favorite sleep deprived gay. Self love. Person 1: We Stan.

Person 1: Why do you have a tool? Person 2: Because my hair is moist.

Person: eating lead was an otherworldly experience

Person 1: I have everything stolen from me 2: at least you have the tiniest bit of dignity left 3: what dignity? 1: exactly

Person 1:( holding up katsup) does this go on salad?

Person:I’m turning red! Me! A brown girl!

Person: I’m not trying argue that we should date, I’m just saying.

Person 1: what’s your biggest turn on? Person2 : a light switch Person 2: or then leaving.

Person 1: what is the most attractive retire on someone Person 2: my own face

Person: you’d be that one bar do white chocolate that just sits in the feidge because no one wants it

Person: that’s like saying I’d rather see your shirt than your face.

Person: why would I shut up when I can shut (kids name) down

Person: Subtle. Gay. Vibes. I’m telling you.

Person: just watch me write my ee on all the reasons why nick caraway is gay. Just watch me.

Person: Why are you stereotyping. What if the body doesn’t want trucks, what if he wants to be a fairy.

Person: being ace is basically just eww no but like forever.

Person: Stop trying to science your way out of being wrong.

Person: even if you did ask me out I’d still say no so then you’d even be rejected by a trash can

Person 1: you can’t read cheese color. Person 2: yellow?

Person 1: Think about  it like you’re brown Person 2: She is brown Person 1: Then act like it

Person: You’re not an ugly frog, you’re a beautiful human being. Person: I am. Very very dumb. And also. Bisexual.

Person: I was thinking of something smart but then I forgot what it was.

Person: I want to skip the crush phase and just make out with someone.

Person 1: The only way to get into the Holland family is to marry in through Paddy. Person 2: (Person 1’s name) this isn’t the royal family.

Person: Omigod you looked like the human version of squid ward.

Person: I want to be smart. Where can I learn smart stuff?

Person: But plant the seed and smoke the weed and chop the cane.

Peeeson 1: that is the definition of meter? Person 2: about 3 feet. Person 1: okay thanks America

Person 1: who’s Tom Holland? Person 2: Spider-Man you uncultured swine!!

Person: I am not a children

Person: Ohh dang yeah forgot chickens existed for a while

Person: Hey! Don’t narrate my water!

Person: I don’t read water.

Person: Think of it as a relationship. If you and your ex break up they are salty but you profit because you wanted to end it but if you end it weak, then y’all will argue back and forth and get nowhere with ending it while still exchanging insults.

Person: You know those really sexual mattress adverts?

Person: Oh please, you have the sexual appeal of an easy bake oven.

Person 1: weed is a gate way drug Person 2: YOURE A GATEWAY DRUG!

Person: (first, middle, last name), I love you to the end of the earth. But you are a daft child.

Person 1: She’s like that type of girl. She’s the long paragraph white girl. Person 2: Well that’s a niche if I’ve even seen one.

Person 1: swing you two fight is like watching two ants fight. Person 2: you friking piece of bacteria!

Person: I’m just an intellectual.

Person: I will murder your face off.

Person: that’s like a kilometer tall.

Person: It’s weird when I pet you horizontally.

Person: to be honest I thought those were rocks in a jar for the longest time. Turns out they weren’t.

Person: does she have a brother or gay tendencies

Person: I’m going to slap your hand like it’s a fricking spider.

Person: I like your face better blurry.

Person: every night at about midnight someone starts googling astrology

Person: I will kick you. I will murder your soul.

Person 1: I’m just going to marry a millionaire. Person 2: Where are you gunna finds a millionaire in this economy?

Person: Welcome to my tea party, there isn’t any tea to drink, but we have a lot of it to spill.

Person: Yah, it was something about sex or something.

Person: You’re all uncultured swines.

Person: I’m about as straight as a sine curve.

Person 1: They’re not Oreo’s you dumb head Person 2: I know that dumber head. Person 3 :Shut up dumbest heads

Person: As an ex foetus i can say with authority that if my mother had aborted me i wouldn't have known nor would i have given a fuck

Person: I’ve just accepted I’m going to fail this test. I’ve gone through the 5 stages of grief already.

Person: Yes I’m blind that’s why I need glasses fool.

Person: what the fork do you want you little son of a biscuit.

Person: Anyway now I’m taking Tylenol PM and I’m going to actually sleep tonight that’ll be fun.

Person: I need all the hoodies. ALL OF THEM.

[sea-changed]

third quarter of 2019 in books

58. 1491: New Revelations of the Americas Before Columbus, Charles C. Mann 59. Mrs. Dalloway, Virginia Woolf 60. The Best Bad Things, Katrina Carrasco [I loved this one: stylistically sharp noir western with fantastic complicated queerness] 61. The Confessions of Frannie Langton, Sara Collins 62. The Last Englishmen: Love, War, and the End of Empire, Deborah Baker 63. Kindred, Octavia Butler [I know everyone knows this already, but just fantastically smart] 64. Upstream, Mary Oliver 65. American Indian Stories, Legends, and Other Writings, Zitkála-Šá 66. The St. Paul Stories of F. Scott Fitzgerald 67. Paul Takes the Form of a Mortal Girl, Andrea Lawlor [this was completely wonderful, niche in all the best ways] 68. On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous, Ocean Vuong 69. nîtisânak, Lindsay Nixon [really excellent, in style and in content] 70. Savage Conversations, LeAnne Howe 71. The Fire Next Time, James Baldwin 72. Frankenstein, Mary Shelley 73. Love, Death, and the Changing of the Seasons, Marilyn Hacker 74. Tales of the City, Armistead Maupin 75. Willa & Hesper, Amy Feltman 76. Life of David Hockney: A Novel, Catherine Cusset (trans. Teresa Fagin) 77. Class Distinctions: Dutch Painting in the Age of Rembrandt and Vermeer 78. The History of Sexuality, Volume One, Michel Foucault (trans. Robert Hurley) 79. Atlantic History: Concept and Contours, Bernard Bailyn 80. The Hours, Michael Cunningham [you know when you pick up a book expecting to like it in a reasonable sort of way and end up sobbing over it? yeah. yeah.] 81. New Netherland Connections: Intimate Networks and Atlantic Ties in Seventeenth-Century America, Susanah Shaw Romney 82. Domingos Álvares, African Healing, and the Intellectual History of the Atlantic World, James Sweet 83. Carmilla, Sheridan Le Fanu [the new Carmen Maria Marchado edition; her introduction was genius and footnotes increasingly tedious] 84. My Year of Rest and Relaxation, Ottessa Moshfegh 85. Herculine Barbin: Being the Recently Discovered Memoirs of a Nineteenth-Century French Hermaphrodite (trans. Richard McDougall) 86. Six of Crows, Leigh Bardugo 87. The Common Wind: Afro-American Currents in the Age of the Haitian Revolution, Julius Scott [really great] 88. Midsummer, Racheline Maltese and Erin McRae [reads a lot like RM’s fic, which is to say often super frustrating and often super delightful] 89. Cotillion, Georgette Heyer [first Heyer; I had a marvelous time] 90. Twelfth Night, Racheline Maltese and Erin McRae 91. Exposed, Jean-Philippe Blondel (trans. Alison Anderson) 92. Amberlough, Lara Elena Donnelly 93. The Lie Tree, Frances Hardinge