#someday I will elaborate on what this guy's deal is. Today is not that day LOL

[jet-teeth]

Black Templars Dreadnought OC fightin' back some Chaos Stuff Couple of detail closeups under the cut:

[redswanned]

There Was Only One Bed part 2

AOT boys x Reader (I added more people because wow the first part was so fun to write)

Plot: You and him came back from a mission that left you both insanely tired. It’s too late to go home so you two decide to check into a hotel. There’s only one room left, with only one bed 😳

Levi

lets be real

Levi needs some damn sleep

and he was looking forward to resting after such as long day

but when he heard there was only one bed he kind of just

sighed

of course something has to happen when he just wants to relax

after seeing the cards he was dealt with he felt the most gentlemanly thing to do was offer you the bed

“Here, go to sleep in the bed. I’ll take the floor.”

“But Levi, you’re exhausted!” you pleaded

“I barely even sleep at night the floor is fine.”

not gonna lie it is hard to argue with someone like Levi

but you would not let him sleep on the floor

“You can take half of the bed, I don’t mind,” you told him hoping he’d take the offer

it was late and he knew he’d probably not sleep much at all like usual

he accepted your offer

but only settled at the very edge of the bed

it didn’t look comfortable lol but is Levi ever comfortable

you just shrugged it off before telling him goodnight

that is until you had a nightmare

you dreamt that you were the sole survivor when you and the scouts went to attack Marley

sometimes fellow humans are scarier than titans

you awoke to Levi shaking you concerned

“Hey, you were having a nightmare, are you okay?” he asked genuinely worried

that nightmare was too realistic as you felt tears roll down your cheek

Levi tenderly wiped your tears and felt his heart break at how warm they were and how many there were

“You’re safe here, I’ll make sure of it,” he said as he gingerly caressed your cheek

you slept peacefully later that night safe with Levi by your side 

Bertolt

when Bert saw that there was one bed he immediately felt flustered despite how tired he was

he kinda became a stammering mess

“Y/N, it’s okay you can have it!” 

“I can have what?” you questioned since he just blurted that sentence out

“The... bed” he muttered as he looked at the ground

he didn’t have to make the situation this much more awkward yet here we are

Bertolt being himself lol

but after hearing that he wanted you to have the bed you immediately offered it to him

“No you should have the bed! You’ve done so much today you need to rest,” you said

“No you should have the bed! I sleep really weird so I don’t want to bother you,” he admitted

how weird could he sleep?

maybe he snored? that’s not that weird

you insisted you two could share the bed and place a pillow in between you two

which he reluctantly agreed

it was late after all

you said your goodnights and you drifted off to sleep

until

A LEG LANDS ON YOUR FACE

“AHH!” you jolt awake shoving the leg off your face

and lo and behold

Bertolt is sleeping sideways with his limbs spread all over

“Hey! wake up!!”

“Huh, OH IM SORRY!” Bertolt immediately retracted

“See I told you I sleep weirdly,” he muttered

yeah even the pillow didn’t save you from his legs

“Bertolt it’s totally fine you can’t control it”

this time you both drifted off to sleep

until you felt an arm around you

you opened an eye and yup Bertolt was sleeping weirdly again

but at least his arms are finally around you 

Porco

Porco does come off as an angry guy

he just gets annoyed easily by incompetence 

so when he saw there was only one bed he felt pretty annoyed by the situation

how could they fuck up this badly?

you could sense Porco’s annoyance and exhaustion 

so you decided to offer him the bed

“It’s okay, I’ll be fine on the floor,” you said

“No, I’m not going to let you sleep on the ground because of the hotel’s dumb mistake.”

“I insist! I’ll be-”

“Just take the other half of the bed.”

he did sound pissed but you could tell he cared that you got a good rest after the long day you two had

you climbed into your half of the bed

“Hey, sorry for snapping. I just couldn’t let you sleep on the ground like that,” he said sheepishly as he climbed into his half

you assured him that everything was fine 

“I just can’t believe they managed to get it this wrong! Some hotel they are, I ought to write them a bad review. This is not how I wanted to get in bed with you,” he rambled on

that last part though

W H A T

“Um, Porco?” you asked feeling flustered

“Hmm, what, OH! Um, you didn’t hear that right?” 

you could tell he was flustered as well judging by his flushed cheeks and wide eyes

he didn’t mean to let that out

but thanks to his exhaustion he was being a bit too honest tonight

“You know I hoped we’d be in bed together someday too,” you admitted

he relaxed a little at this but there was an awkward pause

“Wait, you... like me?” he asked

“I have for a while,” you said not making eye contact yet here you were in his bed

“I didn’t think we’d be in bed together when you finally confessed,” he laughed which helped relax you

you spent that night cuddling and giggling as you two learned about how much you two liked each other

and laughing at how the “awful hotel” ended up helping you two finally confess

Colt

ok out of these guys I think Colt is the most gentlemanly 

when he saw that there was one bed he immediately claimed the ground as his sleeping spot

“Colt! That won’t be comfortable at all!”

“It’s okay Y/N, you deserve the bed!”

“Colt, I can see you shivering. Just get into the bed,” you insisted

he was too tired to argue with you so he did as he was told

“Ok but feel free to kick me out any time I won’t be offended I promise!”

you rolled your eyes 

yeah it wasn’t ideal but you both deserved a bed to sleep on after such a long day of taking Marleyan officers’ orders

it was insane how fast Colt fell asleep

seconds after he gave you permission to kick him out he was out cold

you chuckled and turned off the lights to go to bed

you were sleeping peacefully

until

you heard a voice?? at this hour??

your eyes shot open and realized the voice belonged to Colt

who was sleep talking

it sounded like he was telling someone something

“Y/N... and I slept together....No not like that...”

you couldn’t help but to feel a little flustered and amused 

this was entertaining so you kept watching

“Can me and Y/N....be..a reality?”

“Yes,” you muttered in agreement

at this point it looked like Colt had fallen in his dream and shot up awake

“Oh! Hey Y/N, sorry if I woke you up, I just-”

“So you were telling people we slept together?” you teased

Colt paused for a second

“How do you know about that...?”

“Has anyone told you that you sleep talk?”

Colt was a blushing mess now and kept asking how much of it you heard

you shut him up by asking if you and him could be a reality

that instantly answered all his questions

he played it cool though

“Yes, let’s become a reality, you’ll make my dreams come true,” he said

and that’s how you became his dream girl

Zeke

we all know how Zeke feels about mistakes

or as he puts, “miscalculations”

either way he is annoyed that a singular bed has become yet another one of his problems

he’s too tired to deal with this shit

but he also didn’t want to sleep on the ground but he didn’t want you to either

“Want the other half of the bed?” he just asked as he walked towards one side

“Yeah, I guess so. Thanks,” you said as you took the other side

you felt a little more awkward about it than Zeke did but you didn’t want to reject his offer

Just as you were about to go to sleep Zeke spoke up

“Do you think if people just disappeared problems would go away too?”

this was a pretty heavy question

definitely a late night thought

“Not necessarily,” you replied

“Elaborate.”

“Well, I think that people, no matter who they are, will have lasting impacts on the world,” you replied

you both continued having this philosophical discussion

you were impressed with his beliefs on the topic

Zeke was always a mysterious person and it was rare he opened up this way

he alluded that he didn’t have the greatest childhood which you sympathized with

maybe this is why he believed the way he did

you assured him that he was wanted 

“Thank you, it helps hearing someone say that. Even though I have one year left, I agree that my time on this Earth would have an impact. There’s no greater beast than me,” 

you could imagine how his mind was knowing he had a year left

maybe this is why he thought like this 

you lost track of time when you felt his arm envelop you

his warmth lulled you to sleep

thought provoking conversations are tiring but at least you’ve got him next to you

[misscorn]

Day 1

Morning/Change

I've never written something so Kotoko Saga-centric but I hope yall enjoy it @sihjrweek 😊😊

***

Kotoko Saga occasionally had a moment in the morning where she could sit and enjoy a cup of coffee. Instead of rushing out with a thermos and a stress headache like she normally did, she could relax in the kitchen she never cooked in and watch out the nearest window for a hint of a bird. It was on mornings such as these where she got glimpses of her son.

She could tell that there was something...different about Masamune. Perhaps she did not always have the time to be home, perhaps there were days (or weeks) where her and Masamune did not even pass one another, but she knew her son well enough to know that something was on his mind.

Normally their conversations were short, Masamune often being the one to cut them off. He'd mutter something about being late to school despite having more than enough time to sit down and eat, but Kotoko couldn't blame him for not knowing how to talk to her. She didn't know how to talk to him either.

But recently, when she's had these slow mornings, Masamune lingers. He takes his time getting ready to leave, he asks a few questions about her work or her plans for the day, and he fidgets the entire time before he hesitantly makes his exit. Normally he left the house like it was on fire, so what had changed?

To be quite frank, Kotoko was getting tired of this game. It had started in the middle of January and was now spilling over into February. It was obvious that Masamune had something to say and if she had taught her son anything it was that it was best to be direct with people.

Yet again, Masamune entered the kitchen before school and greeted her with a good morning, setting his school bag on an empty chair. She said good morning back and then fell silent, sipping her coffee and waiting for Masamune to continue the conversation. However, Kotoko was not a particularly gentle or patient woman so when Masamune gave her an anxious sideways glance while he grabbed something to eat, she sighed.

"Just spit it out already, Masamune. These mornings are meant to be relaxing for me, but you acting all nervous has got me on edge."

"It's nothing." Came the automatic, almost robotic response.

Kotoko couldn't contain her scoff. "That is obviously not true. Tell me what's bothering you or stop acting antsy."

Masamune shifted from foot to foot, not looking directly at his mother. She opened her mouth to reprimand him, but he finally spoke up.

"Valentine's day is in a couple days..." He started, but much to Kotoko's frustration he did not elaborate.

"Yes? And what about it?" Kotoko was confused as to why Masamune suddenly had a concern with the holiday. Not to mention it was a surprise he was asking HER of all people about Valentine's day. It was rather obvious Kotoko's own love life was in a rough spot, especially to Masamune who unfortunately bared witness to his parents' arguments more than once.

It wasn't like Masamune wanted to ask his mom. He wanted to ask his dad even less. However he didn't really know who else to ask. He could always ask a certain kouhai of his, but he sort of wanted things to be a surprise. He was sure he'd get a much cuter reaction that way.

"Well, normally girls give guys chocolate, right? But what if I like a person and...we're both..." Masamune trailed off once again.

"Both what?" Kotoko pressed, raising an eyebrow. Masamune liked someone? And liked them enough to want to celebrate Valentine's day with them? Why was this the first time she was hearing about this?

'Because you're never home' a voice reminded her, a voice that was filled with guilt and shame, a voice that often haunted her, but it was a voice that she quickly squashed.

"Forget it." Masamune said.

"No, I want to know." Kotoko genuinely meant it, not ever one to mince words.

"I'll figure it out." Masamune shrugged. "Worse case scenario we both get chocolate for each other, which isn't a big deal."

"Then what will you do for white day?"

Masamune shrugged again. "The same thing I guess." He said.

"Who is this person? Tell me about them. How did you meet? What's their name? What-?"

"I should go, I'm gonna be late." Masamune said, cutting off the incoming onslaught of questions his mother undoubtedly had. He picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder, going to leave. He wasn't ready to answer her yet. One day he would be, hopefully someday soon. He wanted to proudly show off the person he was in love with, but that day just wasn't today.

"Masamune, wait." Kotoko said, standing and putting her hand on his shoulder. He slowly faced her, unsure and anxious to leave. Kotoko stood a little straighter and lifted her chin slightly, looking at her son with a stern expression. "If you're going to do this then you'd better do it right! Don't half ass it by taking the easy route and getting store bought chocolates. Give them homemade ones or don't even bother."

A very subtle look of surprise washed over Masamune's face before he frowned. "But I don't know how-"

"If you really care about this person then learn. You have a few days, get the ingredients today after school and get to practicing."

Masamune nodded with a soft 'hai'. Kotoko decided she was satisfied with his response and sat back down. "Now go. Like you said, you're going to be late."

Masamune smiled faintly before leaving. Homemade chocolates, huh? He suspected Ritsu might faint at such a gesture. In the past Valentine's day had been just another day, albeit a little more annoying with girls he barely knew giving him chocolate. Now though, he could hardly wait. Not that he'd ever admit that.

Kotoko watched him leave with a blank face, but she felt heavy with both affection and sadness. She could only hope her son would do better than her this Valentine's day. She returned to her coffee, finishing it quickly as her little voice filled with regret returned. Though, this time it was also filled with a wary hope. A hope for more mornings like this.

[himbowelsh]

Hi! I wanted to ask if you could do the Valentine's A-Z thing for Smokey. If you're uninspired, it's totally fine if you don't, though!! :) in case you do, thank you very much!^^

valentines day alphabet  ( accepting! )

A   :   AFFECTION.   how does your muse show affection?

He’s a very demonstrative person who’s not shy about his physicality, and most at ease around people who are able to take it; sometimes Smokey can even be thoughtless with touch, because he doles it out so casually. he loves to be touched in return, relishing the reassurance it provides   ---   Smokey’s just not someone who enjoys being alone for too long, so brushing shoulders and wrapping arms around people chases those feelings of loneliness away.

B   :   BOUQUET.   does your muse like flowers? which ones are their favourite?

He’s actually very good at picking out just the right bouquet for the occasion! His twin sister has a passion for flowers, so Smokey had to learn, okay?Flowers really aren’t that confusing, once you know how to take care of them. He’s no gardener, but could definitely keep plants alive if he tried.

C   :   CHOCOLATE.   does your muse like chocolate? which one is their favourite?

He’s a casual fan. While he won’t buy it for himself, if someone gives it as a gift  ---  or a bribe  ---  he’ll gladly accept.

D   :   DATE.   what is your muse’s ideal date? where / who with / etc?

He wants to take something completely casual and turn it into something semi-illegal. Let’s go to the movies and try to break into the projector booth, just to see if it’s possible. Best seats in the house! Let’s see if we can “accidentally” get locked in a department store overnight, and run around bouncing on beds and doing weird things in the dressing rooms. Smokey can make most casual things a lot of fun, but he thrives in situations on just the right side of absurd. He’d love a partner who can liven up even the most mundane date! (And hopefully rein him in from doing anything too wild.) 

E   :   EMBRACE.   does your muse like hugs? what are their hugs like?

Again  ----  very driven by physical contact, very liberal giving it out. Smokey hugs like it’s going out of style. He rubs people’s backs, claps their shoulders a bit, sometimes blows in their ear to make them jump...  he’s got a different hug for every occasion.

F   :   FLIRT.   is your muse good at flirting? how do they flirt?

A very playful flirt, with a collection of pickup lines ranging from inspired to creatively-terrifying.

G   :   GIFT.   is your muse good at gift - giving or do they struggle to get it right?

He thinks he’s great at gift-giving. Plenty of people who’ve received gifts from him would beg to disagree. And beg to be able to return the thing. (“Why the hell do I need a Dick Tracy lunchbox, Smokey, I’m a grown-ass man  ---”)  Always gives his gifts with the utmost confidence, even if it’s not something any sane person would want.

H   :   HEART.   is your muse quick or slow to give their heart away?

He definitely needs the right incentive, with the right partner...  but that doesn’t take much. Truth is, Smokey falls in love fast. Once he’s in, he’s in, and it’s not easy to shatter his affections.

I    :   I LOVE YOU.   does your muse find ‘i love you’ easy or hard to say?

Gah, he loves saying it. If he’s in the right mood, he’ll say it twenty times in a day, just because he loves hearing it. When it comes to love, he’s very verbally demonstrative, as well as physically. Saying the Three Big Words isn’t a big deal to Smokey, because by the time he says them, he knows he means it   ----   not like there’s any point holding them back. He’ll be the first to say it in a relationship  (and might hold his breath until his partner says it back, but he’s willing to wait all year).

J   :   JEALOUSY.   does your muse get jealous in a relationship?

Nah, not really. He’s a confident guy, and that confidence extends to his partner   ---   he’s fully confident they’d never do anything to hurt him. And...  honestly, Smokey’s got a wide circle of friends who he’s very affectionate with, so seeing the same behavior from his partner wouldn’t raise any red flags for him at all.

K   :   KISS.   is your muse a good kisser? why / why not?

Smokey is the world’s biggest tease  ---   a very playful kisser, who enjoys stringing his partner along after him. He loves pulling someone close, his arm wrapping around their back completely, a hand cupping their head; he’ll angle them slightly backwards, leaning into the kiss as his mouth finds a rhythm against their own. Slight grazes of teeth and tongue, just enough to leave them tense in his grasp, eager for more...  and then he’ll pull away with a broad grin on his face, inviting them to come get it. Very into love nips, but will pull unexpectedly tender kisses seemingly out of nowhere.

L   :   LOVE.   who does your muse love?

He’s got a lot of love to give, and when it comes to the people he cares about, Smokey loves fiercely. Probably the most important person in his life is his twin sister, Cleta, who he adores; then his parents; then all his friends, who he’d hide a body for without question; and his family should he ever start one, would immediately move to the top of the list.

M   :   MOONLIGHT.   is morning or night a more romantic setting?

He tends to get in a weirdly touchy/romantic mood anywhere around 1 - 3am, aka the hours when any sane person just wants to sleep. He’s tired too, and he knows his partner is, but when the mood strikes...

N   :   NAUGHTY.   what is your muse like in bed?

Smokey is a very attentive lover. He does not work on instinct; it’s all observation, keeping track of what his partner responds to best. Do they shiver when he nips them here? Groan when his tongue does that right there? Very interesting. He files it all away for later, stocking up an arsenal of how best to drive his partner wild. And what a tease  ---   he’ll bring his partner to the brink, only to pull them right back, so many times that they can actually get angry at him. Fisting a hand in his curls and pulling is a guaranteed way to get him compliant; he’s very sensitive at his hips, and will turn to putty if his partner directs their attentions there. 

O   :   ODE.   does your muse have a way with words?

You know he does, baby, you know he does. One of his favorite hobbies is writing long-winded poems just to troll people, but Smokey has also tried his hand at writing short stories before. Love poetry is very different  ---  much more intimate  ---  but Smokey’s sharp enough to do anything if he puts his mind to it, so he’d give it a shot.

P   :   PARTNER.   what does your muse look for in a partner? looks / personality?

Smokey wants someone with a bright personality   ----   someone who lights up every room, with a quick wit and sharp mind. They don’t need to be a social butterfly, just to entertain him; he likes to be kept on his toes. Someone with a great sense of humor, and a great laugh. Someone who loves to read, because so does he, and they can talk about books for hours; someone who makes good coffee in the mornings, and that’s crucial. Smokey really just needs someone who can bounce off of him, take a joke, and make him smile even when it seems the hardest thing in the world. 

Q   :   QUESTION.   would your muse ask the big question or expect their partner to?

If you don’t think this man will plan an elaborate proposal   ---   he’d do the most elaborate thing. He’s probably brainstormed wild proposals long before he even met his partner, just because he figured he’d have to do it someday, and wanted to be ready. Smokey would find some insane way to propose, like on the top of a roller coaster or via skywriting airplane,just to see if he could pull it off. And if it doesn’t, he has no qualms with finding another way, and proposing all over again.

R   :   ROMANCE.   is your muse a romantic or a cynic?

He’s got a super romantic heart, and is 100% willing to laugh at his own optimism. That doesn’t make it any less genuine, or make him any less eager to find love.

S   :   SWEETHEART.   did your muse have a childhood sweetheart?

His sister went through a phase when she wanted to get married, and poor Smokey was the nearest boy she could rope into playing the Wedding game with her. She got her best dress out, a little bouquet of flowers, forced Smokey to make a ring out of an old bottle cap for her...  then, somehow, a bunch of other neighborhood girls got involved. Smokey ended up with six wives, including his sister. None of them wanted anything to do with him by next week. He’s 90% sure none of those marriages are valid today.

T   :   TRUE LOVE.   does your muse believe in true love?

Sure he does! When he meets the right person, Smokey’s determined  ---  that’s going to be it. He’ll be sold. He’ll know them, he’ll love them, and the rest of his life will just be getting to show them. He’s definitely idealized romance in his head, but that’s just because he really wants to fall deeply in love with someone.

U   :   UNREQUITED.   has your muse had their heart broken?

Smokey’s not the type to be completely shattered by a failed romance, even if it were one that meant a lot to him. Something like...  losing someone he loves without warning, or having them die too soon...  that’s the sort of thing capable of breaking his heart.

V   :   VALENTINE.   how does your muse feel about valentine’s day?

It’s a fun night, and he’ll spoil his partner any way they want, but he loves using it as an opportunity to come up with dates no one else would think of. Who else would spend Valentine’s Day renting horses to ride, or going to a haunted house?

W  :   WEDDING.   would your muse get married? why / why not?

Yes! Please marry him! He wants it bad! He’ll ask a dozen times  ---  once he loves someone, he wants nothing more than to spend the rest of his life with them. Marriage sounds like a dream.

X   :   XOXO.   does your muse use / like pet names?

Oh, absolutely! He’ll make lists, just brainstorming as many as he can think of, and leave them lying around the house for his partner to find; he’ll bounce a few off of them, just to see how they’ll work.   (“honeycakes, what are you  ---  no, that doesn’t work, does it?”  // “hey, sugarpuss--” “NOPE.”) Nicknames are a sport for Smokey, and he plays to win.

Y   :   YOURS.   does your muse get protective easily?

Smokey has a very short list of people he’d go ride-or-die for. It includes his sister, his mom, a few close friends, and his partner. Once they’re on that list, no one gets to hurt them, ever.

Z   :   ZZZ.   how many people has your muse slept with?

Honestly, it’s all about finding takers. Smokey’s not shy, but wasn’t exactly rolling in girlfriends back home. Overseas, it’s easier. If asked, he’d probably quote a number much higher than the actual amount.

[solastia]

Until We Love Again | 1

Pairing: Kim Namjoon & Mystery Member

Summary: Kim Namjoon is drowning is despair and a miracle arrives in the form of a letter. 

Word Count: 1,243

A/N: TW for depression and thoughts of suicide. Nothing of the sort occurs, but it’s worth mentioning just in case. I will update the pairing when they’re revealed. Please let me know what you think! 

He closed the front door of his apartment behind him with a relieved groan, juggling his bag and handful of mail so he could flick on the light with his elbow. Nothing happens. He frowns and flicks the light switch up and down with his elbow again, staring up at the fixture in frustration, before letting his shoulders drop in defeat. He’d forgotten to pay the electric bill again. The cherry on top of another crappy day. 

Namjoon sighs in annoyance and navigates his way to the coffee table as best as he can in the dark. His shin bangs into hard wood, alerting him that he’s found his mark. He hisses at the slight pain and drops everything he’s holding onto the top before feeling around for the candle he usually kept lit when he smoked. He finds it easily enough then lights it with the little lighter he had in his pocket. Finally, he falls back onto the couch, wearily banging his head against the back of it. 

He stares at the wall, watching the shadows the single flame projects onto it and falling deeper into the pit of depression he’d felt growing since the moment he’d woken up. 

He can’t believe sometimes that this is his life. Twenty-five years old and he feels like he has nothing to live for. He wakes up, works an eight-hour shift at a retail job he hates, then comes home too tired to do anything else. Not that it mattered if he did want to go out. The only real friend he has these days is the guy at the convenience store who keeps his favorite ramen brand in stock just for him. He was tired and lonely and was beginning to have no hope that this would ever change. 

Namjoon sighs morosely, ruffling his hair as he leans over to pick up his mail. He knows that he needs to stop thinking about his shit life too much or his thoughts will start to turn...dark. Wouldn’t be the first time and he was feeling particularly weak today. 

He shuffles through the mail, not really expecting much. Junk. Junk. Coupons he’d probably keep. More junk. Magazine he didn’t remember subscribing too but he’d probably read it on the toilet. 

A small envelope catches his eye. It looks like it’s seen some shit - a little battered, a bit dirty. But there is his name in black pen, with no return address. The stamps say this was sent here in Seoul, but there’s no dates or times anywhere. Odd to see these days. The realistic part of him reminds him it’s probably just some sneaky advertisement. Some company probably figured out more people look at their shitty flyer if it looks like a handwritten letter. 

He shrugs and rips it open, amused they even took the time to add ‘Dear Kim Namjoon’ to the top. He settles in and begins to read, waiting for the moment they offer him a great deal. 

“Dear Kim Namjoon,

I’ve been coming back to this page with only the ‘Dear’ part written for at least three days. It’s hard trying to figure out how to start a letter like this. I don’t have your gift with words, it seems. All I can think of is this: 

Hello Kim Namjoon. This is your future husband speaking. I can’t wait to meet you...again. 

I know right now you don’t understand and you probably think I’m a stalker or this is some elaborate prank. I could spout off a bunch of facts I know about you, but any stalker worth their salt could do that, right? So I’ll just wait and let the letters speak for themselves. That’s right, letters with a big S. There will be many more to come. I had to think of a gift special enough for the love of my life, and here we are. I’ll tell you what for later. 

If everything has gone according to plan this should reach you on June 13th, right when you come home from work (if it doesn’t, you’ll have to let me know someday so I can demand a discount). There were many moments in our lives I could have chosen to send this letter. The day we met, our first kiss, the day we moved in together. Hell, I probably could have even had them send it when you were a kid if I’d paid well enough. But as I sat there thinking of the perfect time I remembered something. 

There was a night when we were sitting in our apartment and I had lit candles to be all romantic, but you were reminded of this particular night. You told me how deep you’d been falling and how something had saved you from “doing something stupid.” (I’m realizing now that it’s probably this letter. I hope it is) You never said the words, but I knew what that meant. My heart hurt for you, that you - the most loving and kind-hearted person I’ve ever met in my life - would ever feel abandoned and alone. I’ve thought about that night for years and how I wished I could have gone back and stood by your side. So here I am in the only way I could think of, standing by your side and letting you know that you shouldn’t give up because there is so much waiting for you ahead. 

I could use this chance to make it easy for you. Let you know exactly who I am and where to find me. Let you know who to look out for. However, the Joon that I know would tell me that’s cheating and give me a super smart (and very long) lecture about how ‘the longer the journey is the more you appreciate what’s on the other side’. Granted, you said that about hiking, but I feel like you’d probably apply it here as well. 

I can’t tell you how far ahead I am or all the things waiting for you in the years to come, but what I  can give you is the gift of hope. Just hold on a little bit longer, Kim Namjoon. Think of this as your guiding light out of the dark tunnel. The other side is beautiful, I promise. 

Until we love again”

Namjoon didn’t even realize he’d been crying until a drop hit the page in his trembling hand. He sniffled and wiped the wet trail from his cheek. 

What the hell was this? The person was right. His first instinct was to believe this was some huge prank only...how could they know? Even he couldn’t quite admit to himself the dark thoughts that circled the back of his mind just waiting for him to be weak enough to let them break through. There was no possible way for anyone to know that unless…

No. Letters from the future? Really? There was no fucking way. 

Still, he couldn’t help the tiny flame of hope that had come alive. Small and weakly flickering like the single candle illuminating his living room, but it was there. 

Perhaps he was just too tired to think about this rationally. Perhaps this was a prank, or even a stalker (which was still strangely flattering?). All he knew what that during this moment as he held the letter close to him and watched his little candle dying, he felt less alone than he had in years. 

[viktorrotkiv]

A Perfect Disaster of a Day

Written for @justwannabeafangirl​ as part of the @b99fandomevents​ Summer 2020 Fic Exchange.

Prompt: Stuck at work on a beautiful day

Read on AO3 // My Ko-fi

The first day of June was perfect. Amy woke up half an hour before her alarm clock was set to ring to find a bright, crisp morning waiting for her on the balcony, where she liked to start every morning. She pulled herself away from the view and into the kitchen, still drowsy, to make a pot of coffee. Pouring herself a cup, she stepped back outside, relishing the warmth. She wouldn’t need her robe around the house for the next few months - unless, of course, Jake decided to freeze them with the AC. Which, if she was being completely honest, she knew he would do. He would also get her a thousand new sweaters to make up for it. For now, though, she was perfectly content with the temperature. In fact, she took off the robe and folded it over the balcony railing. Leaning forward and sipping her coffee, she admired the view. It was incredible. She still couldn’t believe they had managed to score this amazing balcony in New York. Sun rays illuminated every tree, every street mural, every laughing couple in a window. A few clean-white clouds dotted the light blue sky, casting shadows here and there on the still-quiet street below. It was a beautiful day. It was perfect.

“Hey.” Jake stepped onto the balcony behind her. “Where’d you get that delicious-smelling coffee?”

Amy turned to smile at him. “Good morning.” She stepped forward and pressed a warm kiss to his lips, immediately feigning annoyance as he swiped the coffee cup from her hand. “Hey! Don’t steal mine. There’s a whole pot of fresh coffee inside.”

“No, I think I’ll just drink this instead. It’s right here, after all.”

Amy’s upset facade broke immediately and she laughed. Jake could always make her laugh, no matter what silly thing he had done right before. “We have to get out early today. This is the first day of Mac’s first real summer – last year he was too small to notice anything going on, I think. We have to take him to the park, feed the ducks, do cartwheels in the grass…”

“Neither of us can do a cartwheel, Ames. And I doubt our one-year-old can either.” Jake chuckled and slid his arms around her lower back, staring into her eyes. “But you’re right. You always are. We absolutely have to take advantage of this perfect summer day. We’ll tell the Captain we need to step out early, send the babysitter home early…” Jake rested his cheek on his wife’s head and closed his eyes, swaying them in place. “We’ll get ice cream… Teach Mac how to throw a ball… We’ll...”

After a moment of silence, Amy spoke, her voice muffled slightly by Jake’s chest. “Are you falling back asleep?”

“Absolutely. Wake me up in twenty minutes.”

Amy smiled and pulled back from Jake’s hold, laughing when he muttered something unintelligible and reached his arms out to her, eyes still closed. “We should actually go in early if we’re both awake already. Get a head start on the day.”

Jake opened his eyes and smiled at her sleepily. “You’re so smart. Now, where’s that whole pot of coffee you promised me?”

*

Their day at work also seemed to start off perfectly. The Captain had immediately given them permission to leave early.

“I don’t see why not,” Holt had smiled. “It is a beautiful day, you both have light case loads… Enjoy the afternoon with your son.”

“Someone’s in a good mood,” Jake whispered in a sing-song voice as they were leaving Holt’s office.

Amy, grinning madly, shoved him playfully. “He’ll hear you! Now, listen. No trouble today, Jake. We have to leave early.”

“Oh, but of course, m’lady.” Jake made an exaggerated bow and kissed her hand. “Now go kick ass.”

Amy looked back at him and smiled as she left for her desk. ‘Love you,’ she mouthed.

*

At eleven a.m. it still didn’t look too bad.

Rosa slammed a cup of coffee on Jake’s desk. “Hey. I need a favor.”

Jake looked up at her, worried. “Amy and I are supposed to leave in two hours.”

“Oh, relax.” But her nudging the coffee even closer to Jake had the exact opposite effect. “It won’t take nearly that long.”

“If it’s so short, why are you bribing me?”

Rosa stared at him for a few seconds, then looked away. “I need you to interview someone who came in for one of my cases. It’s unscheduled, or I wouldn’t need you to do this for me, but I have a dentist appointment.”

“Okay, sure. What case is this for again?”

“Jake.”

“You’re kind of freaking me out here, Ro Ro.”

Rosa didn’t even object to the nickname. “Some guy is here to confess to kidnapping his baby niece.”

“Oof, depressing.”

“Yeah. You gonna be okay?”

“Are you kidding? Sounds juicy.”

“Jake.” Rosa stared squarely into his eyes. “Are you going to be okay… hearing about a kidnapped baby?”

Oh, thought Jake, a kidnapped baby. Out loud, he said, “I’m not fragile, just because of some stupid baby currently living in my house and feeding off of my wife’s boobs. And I’m deeply offended that you would think otherwise.”

“Fine.” A grin was on the verge of breaking through Rosa’s face. “Nobody said you were fragile, I just want to know that you can handle this.”

“Always. As long as he can talk fast.”

*

“Sergeant.”

“Hmm?” Amy didn’t look up. She was almost done looking over some paperwork, and the officers often needed her for something technical that required her rank. She was used to helping them while doing her own work.

“Sergeant. I, uh… I think I need your help.”

This made Amy look up. “What is it?”

The officer standing in front of her was relatively new. He had proven to be very competent on his own, so she pretty much left him to his own devices. He hadn’t attracted much negative or positive attention, and she didn’t know him that well. “I’m sorry if this is inappropriate, but you, uh, you smoke, right?”

“Occasionally.” Amy put down her paperwork and smiled at him. “Calm down, Miller. You can be open with me. What is it?”

“I think I have a problem. I smoke, like, all the time now. It’s pretty much sure to ruin my lungs if I keep going like this for another few years.” The officer chuckled. “I mean, I guess smoking always is. And, uh, most addiction books and— and help groups don’t work for me. I need someone to hold me accountable, someone who knows me personally. And I can’t really ask my family, they live in Pennsylvania, and my roommate has some addictions that are much worse than cigarettes...” He chuckled again and wrung his hands nervously. “I know I’m rambling on and on, but I’ve heard you mention using nicotine stickers, so I know you’ve stopped smoking, and I’d like your help.”

“You want me to help you quit smoking? As in, be your mentor?”

“I’m sorry if it’s inappropriate. This was a stupid idea, I just thought—”

“No!” Amy jumped up. “It’s not inappropriate at all. I’d be honored.”

“Really?” Tim Miller’s eyes lit up. “Thank you, thank you so much.”

“Come talk to me tomorrow. I’ll do some research, and we can test out some methods.”

“Thank you, again, so much.”

Amy smiled. Mmm, research… “Of course.”

*

At twelve p.m. it started getting worse.

“Wait, say that again.” Jake could already see their perfect day slipping away. If this case was that serious... It could take forever.

“I’ve decided to come forward because my brother is not a competent parent. That’s why I took my niece to my house. She wasn’t safe there.” They were sitting in an interrogation room. Mr. Thomas had asked to talk privately.

“Sir, can you please elaborate? Why wasn’t she safe?”

“My, uh, my brother drinks, and he forgets to bathe her, sometimes even to feed her. When she cries he either sits her in front of the TV for hours, or he calls me. Her mom’s not in the picture, so it’s just him and the baby, and I’m scared…” The man sighed, put his head in his hands. “My brother isn’t a bad person. He just isn’t a very good parent, and my niece’s safety is more important than anything else.”

Jake leaned forward across the desk. “It’s okay, I understand. You have to do this. And maybe someday your brother will understand too. Right now, though, we need your full cooperation.”

“What does that mean?”

“I have to call social services. Since you came to us and reported this, and because you have experience with the child, I can recommend that you be given custody. Only if you want that, of course.”

“Yes, that— that’d be good, I think.”

Jake reached over and put his hand over Mr. Thomas’s. “Good. But this means that you can’t back out. You need to tell us, and social services, everything you know. You can’t step away because you feel guilty or you start getting worried, because then this won’t work, and your brother could take your niece back and never let you see her again.”

“I know. I know. I’m prepared to do whatever’s necessary.”

“Okay then. Let’s take your statement.”

*

“Santiago, could you send me that report?”

“Sir?”

“I know it wasn’t due until tomorrow, but I’m sure you of all people already finished it.” Holt had called her into his office, and Amy was starting to panic.

“Actually, sir, I’ve been dealing with a personal matter of one of my officers, and I haven’t had time to finish the report. I was going to do it first thing tomorrow morning.”

“I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to finish it today. The system’s going to be down for a week starting tomorrow and we won’t be able to log any new reports. They only just told me.”

“Oh.” Amy’s chest constricted uncomfortably. Their perfect day… “Alright, sir. I’ll get right to it.”

“Again, I apologize. I hope it won’t keep you too long.”

*

At one p.m. Jake was starting to regain hope.

“Rosa!” Jake almost pushed people aside in his hurry to get to her. Rosa was just back from her appointment, and Jake was rushing across the bullpen. He slid to a stop just outside the elevator and started walking back with her to her desk. “Wow, I’m out of shape… Boy, am I glad you’re here.”

Rosa cocked an eyebrow at him.

“You have to take your case back. It turned a bit complicated, he wanted to report his brother, and I promised Amy we would leave now to take Mac to the park.”

“Oh, sure. Just— what did he want to report?”

“He thinks his brother is an incompetent parent. Social services need to be involved. Oh, and I told him we would recommend him to be the guardian, so you have to say that.”

“I can do that.”

“Great. I took his statement. Someone from social services is on their way here to talk to him now, then to see the baby, and then they’ll go see the brother.”

“Wait, Jake, you already called them?”

“Of course. It was urgent. But this case is all yours now.”

“Actually…” Rose dug her nails into her palm, dreading the news she was about to give. “Actually, if you’re the one who called social services, you have to stay here until they arrive and take over.”

“What?”

“Yeah, it’s protocol. And you know how Holt is about those.”

“But— but, Rosa, they said they’d be here in a couple of hours.”

“I know.”

“I have to leave right now!”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

*

Amy tried to concentrate on the work, but she felt too guilty. She had promised Jake that they would leave early, and here she was, stuck writing a report that would take at least a couple more hours. And, oh God, she hadn’t told him yet. She stood up so suddenly that at least three different people turned sharply to look at her. Muttering a general apology to the room, Amy pulled out her phone, sent a quick text, and marched toward Jake’s desk.

“Hey, Ames!” In her state of worry mixed with determination, she had almost walked right past the person she was looking for. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, but I need to talk to you about something.”

“Actually, me too—” He was interrupted by both their phones chiming. “Why did I just get a text from our babysitter that says, ‘LOL, don’t mind, you guys are the best parents’?”

“Not sure, but so did I. I actually just texted her to say we won’t be early after all, that’s what I came to talk to you about. I’m so sorry.”

“No, Amy, you’re confused. I texted our babysitter to say we won’t be early after all. I’m not allowed to leave yet.”

“Oh.” Some of the worry left Amy’s face and she actually smiled a little.

“Guess that’s what made her laugh.” At her confused look, he added, “You know, why she texted us LOL.”

“Oh, that’s what LOL stands for? I thought it was ‘lots of love’.”

“Amy Santiago!” Jake threw his arms wide open. “How old are you?”

“I’m joking, Jake, relax. So, why can’t you leave yet?”

“Rosa asked me to take someone’s statement because she had to go to the dentist—”

“—there’s no way that’s actually where she was going—”

“—obviously not, and turns out this guy took his baby niece because he thinks her father isn’t fit to be a parent. So I called social services, but apparently I’m not allowed to leave until they get here.”

“Yeah. Holt would make you adhere to the protocol.”

“Unfortunately. So why do you have to stick around?”

“I promised one of my officers I would help him quit smoking.” Amy sighed. “And then I did research for that instead of writing a report that was due tomorrow, but now it turns out we need to log it in today.”

“Oh, I heard, they’re taking down the system tomorrow.”

“Yep.” Another sigh. “Guess we won’t get our perfect day today, then, huh?”

Jake put his arms around her. “Guess not. But there’ll be plenty more sunny days. It’s only the beginning of summer.”

*

The social services representative arrived at two p.m.

Jake rushed up to the man and threw his arms around the stranger. “Finally! What took you so long?”

The representative nudged him off with a questioning look. “We have other work. You said the child wasn’t in any immediate danger.”

“She isn’t. She’s at home with her aunt. Speaking of which, here’s the aunt’s husband — actually, he’s the one who’s biologically related to the baby — and he can explain everything. I’m going to go now, if that’s okay with you.”

“Actually, if you’re Jake Peralta, there’s a few things to go over first.”

Jake groaned and slumped forward. “That was more a figure of speech. I was hoping I wouldn't really need your permission. What do you need me for?”

“I just need to make sure we have all of the details we need, and then I can officially take over the investigation.”

Jake spotted someone coming out of the kitchen. “Actually, she’s the one who called you! That’s Jake Peralta right there.”

“Yep, that’s me, Jake Peralta.” Rosa’s imitation of Jake’s voice was as terrible as can be expected.

The representative, tired and bored, wasn’t buying any of it. “Detective, I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to come with me. You too, Mr. Thomas.”

A hopeful Mr. Thomas and a frustrated Detective Peralta followed the social services representative back into the interrogation room.

*

At four p.m. Amy finally finished typing her report. At four-oh-five she knocked on Captain Holt’s door. “Sir, I’m finally finished with that report. Is there anything else you need from me?”

“Thank you, Santiago. I’m sorry your day was hijacked, but you can go home now. I heard your husband is done with his work too.”

“Oh, the representative left?”

“On his way to look at the child now.” Holt looked at his watch. “You know, you could still have a little bit of fun. Sunset isn’t until eight twenty-one p.m.”

“I don’t know, sir. I think we’re both exhausted. Maybe we’ll try again next week.”

“I will not have any of that nonsense.”

“Sir?”

Holt slapped both his palms onto his desk and stood up. “Do you know why I was so eager to approve your request to leave early? It was partly because you are both excellent at your jobs and have enough vacation days left. It is also because I recently took a vacation with Kevin and it was the most fun I have had in months. It’s important to spend time with your partner, and certainly with your child. You are both extremely willing to help others—”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I wasn’t done, Santiago. You are both extremely willing to help your co-workers and you might get held up at work every other time you try to leave early. Look at what happened today! You were trying to do your job as a sergeant, and Peralta was trying to help Diaz, and you missed out on some of your plans. But there is still time today. Take advantage of the few hours left, because you don’t know when the next perfect day will appear.”

Amy staggered back a few steps, reeling from the Captain’s surprisingly passionate speech. “Thank you very much, sir. That was just the push I needed. You’re right. I’ll go find Jake right away.”

“Of course I’m right. Get out of here.”

Amy turned and started to leave.

“Oh, and Santiago?” Holt was actually smiling, for the second time that day. “Have a hell of a time, for me.”

“Yes, sir.”

*

At four-fifteen p.m., Jake was packing his things to leave. As he picked up his jacket and bag and went to find his wife, she rushed up to him. “Come on. Let’s go. Here, give me your jacket.”

“Um, sure. I’m sorry that we didn’t get to have our fun day. If only I hadn’t called social services on my own…”

“This wasn’t your fault. I wasn’t ready to leave at one, either. And your thing was even more important than mine.” Amy pressed the elevator button. “It doesn’t matter now. We’re going to go home, pick Mac up, and ride the subway to Central Park. You know how he loves the subway.”

Jake smiled faintly. “I do. But, Ames, I thought we gave up on our day. It’s too late now, we won’t get anything done. We’ll just have to find another day.” The elevator dinged open and Jake held his arm out in front of the door. “After you.”

“Thank you.” Amy stepped inside and pressed the ground floor button, turning toward Jake. “There are four hours and…” She checked her watch. “Four more minutes until the sun sets. And there’s light even after that. We’re going to eat ice cream, and buy a cheap inflatable ball that’ll lose all of its air tomorrow, and play catch with our son. It may not be half a day, but come on, we only lost a few hours.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Ames, really, but I had kind of a depressing case today, especially since the stupid social services man made me listen to all of the details twice, and I think I just need to go home. We’ll have our fun day soon, I promise.” Jake stepped out of the elevator, but Amy stayed inside.

“Captain’s orders.”

“What?” Jake stepped toward her and held the elevator doors open again.

“Captain’s orders. And I quote, ‘Have a hell of a time for me, Santiago.’”

“He did not say that!”

“He did. And I’m not leaving this elevator until you agree to use whatever time we have left to bond with our son.”

“Okay, now you’re just being mean. You know father-son bonding is one of my triggers!” Jake’s mood was starting to lift, though. Amy could see it.

“I do know that, because I know everything about you. Which is why…” Amy walked to Jake, cupping his face gently. “I also know that this will be good for you.”

“I thought you weren’t getting out of the elevator until I agreed to go.” Jake pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

“You never really had a choice. Also, I’ve made my point and now I’m stepping out of the elevator.”

“You feel guilty about holding it up, don’t you?”

“Absolutely.” Amy pulled Jake’s arm around her shoulder.”Let’s go.”

*

“Oh, I’m so glad you guys are still going to have a bit of fun today!” Their babysitter gushed when they finally arrived home. “Mac has been missing you guys ever since you went back to work.”

“Aww, come here, buddy!” Jake picked his son up. “You know, you’re going to feed ducks today, and watch your mom fail miserably at doing a cartwheel.”

“Actually, you’re going to watch your dad fail miserably at doing a cartwheel. Thanks, Becca, here’s your money.”

“Oh, thanks. It’s so beautiful out there. It really is the perfect day to go outside.” The babysitter waved at Mac and started to leave.

“Well, it may not have been a perfect day the whole way through, but we’re going to have lots of fun, aren’t we, Ames?”

“Absolutely.”

The door shut behind Becca, who couldn’t help but smile at how adorable her employers were, and inside, a small family was about to start a perfect day, outside of work.

[whatevenismyaestheticidk]

Things I’ve heard high schoolers say pt 3

Person: it’s to early for me to be alive right now

Teacher: who invented math? Student: Lincoln.

Teacher: You feel as if you get low marks on this 5 paragraph essay you’ll end up poor and homeless and addicted to drugs. Student 1: Yes. Student 2: That’s exactly how it works. Student 3: I mean… you’re not wrong.

Student: It’s called panic and I do it well. I do it very well.

Student 1: I need to get glasses. Student 2: I need to get a will to live.

Student: Physics eats brains for lunch and sucks ass for dinner.

Student: Fuck you Perry the platypus!!

Student: he’s an Asian white supremisist. How does that even happen.

Teacher: After treating him like dirt for 7 years what is he to me? Student 1: Friends? Student 2: Lovers?

Teachers: We can’t have poor people running the place, that’s stupid.

Teachers: It was illegal to be alone because when you are alone you commit a sin.

Student: They play with your intestines? Like jumprope???

Student 1: you make me want to kill myself Student 2: Bitch please! I’ve been making myself want to kill myself for years.

Teacher: If you’re in my class don’t be acting the fool

Student: that’s it! You’ve lost your titty privileges

Student: I have the bladder of an octopus please let me go to the bathroom

Teacher: America broke up with Britain through text and by telling all of their friends but not actually telling Britain.

Student: my peripheral vision up is about as good as a fucking snail’s.

Student: I am allergic to myself.

Student: she brought my coconut juice. I’m going to cry.

Student: my name is Bitch.

Student: my elevator is literally a vsco girl

Student 1: what do you think? Student 2: I think I’m a fucking slut.

Student 1: I look like a lightbulb Student 2: A cute lightbulb. 10/10 would screw you (in)

Teacher: No one likes Axe, but its your friend.

Student: I am a flaming homosexual and that is why I want to dye my hair pink in honor of the women that I love so much

Student: oh my god it’s Michael fucking Jackson! *screams*

Student: Im 16 but not even very much 16.

Teacher: Theres a reason my cousin Neil trades three shifts of paramedic work so he doesn’t have to work on the night of the full moon.

Student: I know it sounds scary running from the police but it’s actually just leisurely walking away from them.

Student: I was washing my hands after lunch and this guy just started bleeding out next to me.

Student: I’m just saying, I would wear a full out prom dress to school and no one could stop me.

Student: I have the strength of a roasted peanut.

Student 1: Avacodo’s are thicc though. If there was a sexiest food event then avocado would win hands down. Student 2: what about peaches Student1: I would 100% fuck an avocado.

Student: chicken nuggets re the dad bod of the food world.

Student: in conclusion: gay.

Student: Hey Mr (Teacher) can you please elaborate on your outfit choice today?

Teacher: Dueling? You know the 10 paces fire? The thing that Hamilton is known for but he was a lot better at?

Teacher: Dreams are kinda wack Student: But this is another level of wack.

Student 1: Im just saying you could totally suck a dick by mistake. Student 2: How? Student 1: Like if you’re watching a movie and he’s holding a soda bottle between his legs and you want a sip but it’s dark you could totally accidentally suck a dick.

Student 1: hurry the fuck up Student 2: that is not how you treat people, you need to have some respect. You say PLEASE hurry the fuck up.

Student: You know, Stockholm syndromes. Like when someone is kidnapped and then catches feelings for their master, daddy kinks, that kinda shit.

Student: IF I were to eat Donalt Trump’s ass it would be so white I’d get retinal cancer just from looking at it.

Student: You were texting her which made us loose the quizlet live game! She is a whore!

Teacher: you’re a dirty old man, you read the script

Student: you’re my hwb. Homies with benefits.

Student 1: I’m a shell 2: I’m a crab. 3: what do crabs do to shells 2: I’m going to go live and eat inside you then eventually leave you for another

Student: Ayyyy!! We’re getting mono!!

Student: Stop catching feelings you dumb emotionally suicidal bitch!!!!

Teacher: *Student’s name* you need to find friends who love you.

Student: Is that a kneecap? *fake cough* Slut. *fake cough*

Teacher: Yah Buccanan was our first gay president. Student: But he was a Democrat! Teacher:… you DO know that people can be gay and a democrat.

Student: This whole book was just a giant KFC commercial.

Student: he other day I tried to zoom in on a book.

Student: every time I head an Indian person talk it’s like they’re raping me but in a good way.

Student: You canned corn of a human.

Student: you look like a broken piano

Student: There’s no room for Jesus! I don’t want to see him!

Student 1: Tiger sharks are the goats of the ocean. Student 2: Wrong. I’m the goat of the ocean.

Student: Florida is the Bermuda Triangle of stupid shit.

Student: Jesus has a plan for me, and I don’t think it’s in his textbook of an agenda.

Student: did you talk to her? Because I’m pretty sure blowing up a school is frowned upon.

Student: and that’s on period no tampon.

Student 1: what would your stripper name be? Student 2: Ruby. Teacher who over heard: Excuse me. Teacher here, stripper conversation over there. Please move the inappropriate conversation somewhere where I can’t hear it. Vanilla Pudding. (the thing about this one, was she was telling us that in the past, her stripper name was Vanilla Pudding)

Student: (Different student’s name), if I told you that I was possessed last night would you believe me?

Student: (Teacher) I was possessed last night, is there, like, biology to support that?

Student: Could I theoretically live forever if I drank infinite 5 hour energies.

Teacher: I have more glue sticks I just don’t put them out because the freshman eat them.

Student: drinking chocolate milk isn’t good for you it just like tragic.

Student: who do people even get stds, I can’t even get dms

Student: Tell me you’re kidding. Tell me you did not find my house by looking at snap maps. YOU HAVE MY ADDRESS!!!

Student: Hey you lived in Africa right? Does that mean you can say the n word?

Student: Someone threatened to open up my chest, piss in it, and close it back up.

Student: For how good I am at catching feelings, you’d think I’d be better at sports.

Student 1: I’m a Taurus. Student 2: I thought you were gay.

Student: So if I ate a tide pod then ate a t-shirt what would happen?

Student: Buddhism is just a series of vibe checks until eventually one works.

Student: why does bugs bunny have so much cleavage??

Student: Don’t underestimate snoopy you fucking heathen.

Teacher: So what you’re saying is when the okay boomer generation dies we won’t be racist anymore?

Student: Venus is in retrograde and that’s why Im not dealing with your bullshit.

Student: What is wrong with you. No sincerely. What made you think that eating a green banana is okay.

Teacher: You know Up? In the movie there’s this dog and when he’s talking then he’ll turn and say squirrel. That’s like me. I think I have adhd.

Student: you absolute tea drinking taxes liberal.

Student 1: if you see my cat run. She’s psycho. Student 2: Can I run her over with my tires?

Student 1: I will drive us through the gates of Shaw and into the water. Student 2: I hope we blow up underwater.

Student 1: Juxpositioning my rain boots with my lingerie. Student 2: those rhyme. Wait no they don’t!

Student: when he says he has a tenor recorder, but really we all know he only has a soprano recorder.

Student 1: you’re shoelaces are untied Student 2: I know. I hope I trip on it and die. Student 3:I felt that

Student: Every time I see a 9/11 ad I always pretend to have a panic attack.

Students chanting: Eat the rich. Eat the rich. Student 2: Rich, more like Bitch.

Student 1: UWU I’m going to lock you in my gas chamber Student 2: Primes flame thrower UWU

Student: I’m not Like other girls. I die on command

Studrnt1: Turkey bitch Student 2: she just called you a turkey bitch Student 1: yes you specifically are a Turkey bitch

Student: I will eat a bitches dick. Gobble gobble motherfucker.

Student 1: he opens my snaps in 10 seconds Student 2: that’s love

Student 1: My for you page is almost exclusively gays, theatre, and Percy Jackson at this point. Student 2: Those are all the same thing basically.

Student: I would have kicked so much ass freshman year if I wasn’t depressed.

Student: Navy blue is the white kid who thinks he can say the n word of the color world. He thinks that he’s black.

Student: Your nose hairs look fragrant. Would you mind if I took a taste?

Student: Boxed water tastes like what I imagine trader joes to taste like as a water.

Student: The water from Moana would be a gentle lover.

Student: we feast tonight brother. I found this in the trash can.

Student: Okay, but I cry myself to sleep BETTER than you.

Student: Can you Venmo me some titties please?

Girl holding hands with another girl: It’s a good thing we’re dating otherwise this’d be pretty gay.

Student 1: I just wanted to know if you knew Lincoln personally. Teacher: What? Student 2: We think you’re a time traveler.

Student 1: Sweetie, you’re having a breakdown over rocks. Student 2: I really hate that class!!!

Student: I love being the joker when we play chess

Student: are you saying that you finger fuck your eurethra?

Student 1: Honestly sometimes I just go onto that lofi hip hop radio, beats to relax/study to thing and just get into a fight with someone in the comment section. It’s fantastic. Student 2: Sometimes they do give good advice though, once I asked if I should ask out this guy and they responded with “No, guys ain’t shit” and I was like “aight you right, you right” Student 3: Sometimes it gets weird though, like once I went on and everyone was talking about how sex and money have become the new gods of our time, and how someday a future generation will die without ever seeing the light of the sun. Student 1: Okay but are they wrong though?

Student: It doesn’t matter if you’re a boy or a girl or something in between or something else entirely. A bitch is a bitch, and you sir, are a bitch.

Student 1: so last night I killed and area few of your kids, I hope you don’t mind. Student 2: nah I don’t really care.

Student: what size pussy your phone got?

Student 1: I listen to songs about Greek gods and being polyamorous Student 2: I listen to songs about... smashing.

Student: Motzarella cheese is the pastel pink of the cheese world.

Student: Someone who can bench press 200 has nothing on someone that can just double fist eat Costco sized pound blocks of cheddar cheese.

Student: I will drag you down to hell and make the devil give you therapy so help me. Student: You see, we don’t conjugate words in English, much less math.

Students: well the thing about gamers is, you know they’re good with their hands.

Student: Oka first of all, we’re all on the same planet, so that’s already real small. Then, what are the chances that we were born the same species, like I could have been born a platypus. I could have been a mealworm. Then the chances that we’re in the same country then the same state then the same school like damn. Imma just vibe now.

Student 1: You’re built like a baked bean Student 2: IDK why that hurt me so much but it did.

Student: If I don’t get a hug in the next 10 minus, I’m going directly to the pentagon to tell Trump to suck my dick.

[sarcasticmesswriting]

WinterHawkWeek Day 6 - Accidental Confessions

Canon, fluff. 

Haha, I forgot to post yesterday because I am an idiot. Have two stories. 

It was so unfair. 

Why did it have to be a giant squid moving through the Hudson River and pulling in whatever it could reach from the water? And if that wasn’t enough, Clint had to watch from afar, shooting arrows at flailing limbs and pinning them down, while Bucky moved in between them and either cut them off or dance out of the way. 

Ultimately it was also Bucky who finally killed the squid, but only after he had been grabbed and pulled into the water, giving Clint a small heart attack.

The tentacles jolted and then slumped to the ground, slowly sliding back into the water as the whole body sunk. 

Tony was already complaining about how he wanted a live specimen to science with Bruce, but Clint tuned him out immediately as he went over to their meeting place where the jet was sitting. It was in full view of the riverbank, so Clint had a front-row seat to watch Bucky emerge from the water and push himself up onto the solid ground. 

Bucky pushed his hair back with one hand and grinned at Steve who had come over. There was no way Clint could read their lips when Clint’s heart was doing overtime and his eyes were glued to Bucky’s hands that were loosening his uniform to be able to take it off. He was of course not wearing anything underneath and Clint swallowed. Hot, wet muscles with an attitude. 

Clint’s kryptonite.

“Hey, Hawkeye, it looks like you didn’t get to do much,” Sam said as he landed next to Clint, his wings retracting soundlessly.

“Not like you were a big help either,” Clint snapped and turned to stomp into the jet. He wasn’t being fair to Sam who had the best intentions, but Clint just couldn’t help it. 

He locked himself in the cockpit and hoped no one would try to find him, so he could calm down a little and maybe not try to tear off the next person’s head. He didn’t expect to be left alone forever, so it was no surprise when Natasha cornered him in the kitchen later the same day as he got himself some coffee. 

“What’s going on?” She crossed her arms and leveled her most unimpressed look at him. “Sam is the last person you mouth off to.” 

“Sending his guard dog? Wow.” Shaking his head he put his empty mug into the sink and started to head out of the kitchen. Evidently, he hadn’t calmed down enough. 

Natasha grabbed his arm. “Talk to me.” 

“Fine,” he said and whirled around to face her. “You want to know what’s my problem? Bucky fucking Barnes is my problem. Did you see him today? Being all heroic and shit, jumping into the river and killing that thing, but that would have been fine. I would have managed, but no. He had to go and strip on the spot. Like, who does that? It’s torture. He’s torturing all of us. Or at least me. I mean, you saw him. With that infuriatingly smug smirk and all those muscles. It’s. It’s. Oh, and don’t get me started on his fucking hair. Does it have to be that long? And it’s so soft, Tasha. Remember that one time he fell asleep on my shoulder? It was a trial from the Gods I don’t believe in, I tell you. Don’t even get me started on his laugh. Why the fuck does the hottest guy on the planet have the cutest snort-laugh in the history of all laughs? It’s just not fair and I’m here on the sidelines struggling with not blurting any of that out in his presence, so excuse me for being a bit defensive.” A bit out of breath he made an articulate sound and scrubbed his hands over his face. “So, yeah. Dealing with being in love with someone who considers you a friend is going on with me.” 

It was quiet. Too quiet. 

Slowly Clint looked up at Natasha, expecting a surprised expression or a startled one, but instead, she was looking past Clint over his shoulder with panic in her eyes. 

“Please tell me it’s Bruce or Steve or anyone other than who I think it is.” 

Natasha looked at Clint and grimaced. 

“Fuck,” Clint muttered and steeled himself, before turning around and coming face to face with Bucky who looked midmotion of stepping into the kitchen, eyes wide. He had changed into faded jeans and Clint’s favorite red sweater that made Bucky look incredibly soft and approachable. 

“How much did you hear?” Out of the corner of his eye, Clint saw Natasha fleeing the room, the traitor. 

“All of it, I assume. You said I was your problem and then. Uhm.” Bucky swallowed and glanced away and yeah. That was about what Clint had expected. 

“Look. I was never going to tell you and put you on the spot like this. I knew the whole time you wouldn’t go for someone like me. I’ll get over it, so it would be for the best if you forget about all of this.” Clint moved past Bucky, but paused for a moment to say “I’m sorry” and then left as quickly as possible, not seeing Bucky’s frowning gaze following him. 

~

Clint barely believed it, but nothing really changed. Natasha glanced at him and Bucky every now and then, when they were all together in team-building activities, but the way Bucky acted around Clint didn’t change and Clint was grateful. The friendship they had built was way too valuable.

But then one morning Clint had finished his workout and had headed back to his floor when a flash of yellow at his door made him pause. It was a simple square post-it glued to the door on eye level. 

You’re a hard worker. 

That was it. Just that one sentence in unfamiliar handwriting. It had to have been an Avenger and Clint knew all of theirs, so someone had gone through the trouble of concealing it. 

“Jarvis?” 

“I am under the impression that it is a secret, Sir, with an elaborate idea behind it. Do you really wish to know?”

Stroking his thumb over the words Clint was, against all common sense, intrigued. “Not yet.” 

It continued like this. Clint found at least one post-it a day, sometimes even two. They were on his door or in the range on his bow or the communal floor or the gym. Anywhere Clint went, there could be a message waiting for him. 

Your smile is contagious. 

When you say “I meant to do that”, I actually believe you.

That thing where you know when someone needs something? That amazing. 

You’re gorgeous - and that’s the least interesting thing about you, too.

Compliment after compliment after compliment. Any time Clint thought there could not be anymore, he was proven wrong. 

None of the others acted at all differently and short of asking Jarvis, there really wasn’t a way to figure out who it was. If he was really honest with himself, he kind of didn’t want to know. It was nice having someone go out of their way to tell Clint all these things, even as a joke. 

But then the nice, but generic messages anyone could have pulled from the internet turned specialized. References to events, to things Clint did during team evenings or out during a fight when Clint took care of evacuating a bus overturned in the street. 

For days it was all events where the whole team was present and then slowly, every two or three days, someone got eliminating.

Clint spotted the flash of yellow behind the coffee machine as the whole team got ready to eat and his heart immediately started to race. His fingers toyed with the edge of the paper, but he didn’t pull it off to read just yet. 

Behind him, someone laughed, but it was like there was a wall between him and the rest of the room. There were only two options left. Tony or Bucky. If it was Tony, the whole thing most definitely had been a joke on Clint’s expense. If it was Bucky…

Clint didn’t want to dare get his hopes up. He had actually confessed to Bucky over two months ago and it had been accidental, but Bucky would have said something then, right? 

Slowly Clint peeled off the paper and took a deep breath before he looked at it. 

I want to take you out to dinner and maybe someday, you will allow me to tear off those tiny purple exercise pants.

Heart in his throat he turned around and his eyes found Bucky who was already looking at him, a smirk showing up at once. 

“Figured it out yet?” Bucky asked and everyone else fell silent at once until a pin being dropped would have been audible. 

“Why?” A single word, but Clint’s voice still broke. 

Bucky crossed the room in a flash and cupped Clint’s face, hot and cold at the same time. “I could have said something before, I know, but I wanted to do something special for you. I wanted to show you that you deserve everything you want. I wanted to show you how I see you and I wanted to make you smile every day.” 

“I… I don’t know what to say.” 

“That’s a first,” Tony replied and promptly yelped in pain as he was shushed. 

“Clint,” Bucky said as if nothing happened. “Will you please allow me to take you out on a date? “

“No joke?” Clint grabbed Bucky’s shirt, hope dangerously trying to take over. 

“No joke. Every single word in those messages is true and there is even more I want to tell you. I’ll make sure you will believe it if it takes forever. Honestly, preferably it takes forever.” 

There were no words to convey Clint’s feelings in that moment, so he just pulled Bucky down as Clint stretched up and they met in the middle in a kiss. 

“Yes,” Clint whispered as they parted and kissed Bucky again, feeling hands press into Clint’s sides. 

“I feel like I just witnessed a marriage proposal,” Sam commented, but Clint didn’t pull away from Bucky just yet. He was way too happy to be bothered by the teasing. 

“No one has asked for my approval,” Steve said in the driest tone possible. 

“You do know that implies Barnes is the girl.” 

“Have you not heard, Tony? No one is the girl in a gay relationship.” 

“I’m in love with you, by the way,” Bucky said quietly as the bickering got out of hand. “Just in case, it wasn’t clear.” 

“I love you too.” 

[trojansblr]

#FightOn! (02) | ot7

Summary: The University of Southern California is a prestigious school - only the best or the richest can attend. That means there will be a lot of spoiled brats. Two groups start colliding and the entire college shift alongside them. What will happen when sparks starts to flow between them? Drama will certainly be there.

Pairing: BTS with -eventually- female characters

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut (in the future), CollegeAU!

A/N: Don’t forget that if you want to be part of this fic, you can! Just send us an ask with a couple of infos about yourself like your name, age, your major, some personality and physical traits and we’ll find you a spot in USC! 

The Characters • Day 1 •  Day 2  • Day 3 

After getting out of Jimin's room, Deo walked in a fast pace back to her dorm. Hyori had been texting her non-stop and she was sure she wasn't sleeping yet. It wasn't like her at all. She would want to know every last bit of detail of what had happened in that room and Deo would innocently tell her only to regret it the second right after when she saw Hyori's smirk. The smaller girl already knew what was going through her roommate's mind and she wasn't in the mood for sharing. Not that Hyori minded. She had a whole elaborated plan on her mind already, focused on making her friend see the supposed love she had for the art boy. It was obvious to Hyori so it should be like that to everyone else. 

The next morning, when Deo woke up Hyori was already long gone. She was used to that by now. Every morning the girl would wake up a couple of hours earlier to do some jogging. That and to watch the sunrise as she took some sips from her first coffee of the day. Nearby, a cafeteria started beeping signaling coffee was ready to be served and Jin finished taking the last slices of bacon off the pan onto his plate when a sleepy Carolina swooped it right from his hand with a lazy smile spread across her face.

"Hey!!!" Jin screamed at her. "That's my breakfast!" He said making Carolina let out a chuckle. 

"Why do you need two plates then?" She asked already sitting down, fork in hand ready to dig in. 

"Sure thing captain hook." Jin laughed as he noticed she had her right eye closed, sleepiness and the brightness that came from the window being too much to handle at the moment. 

"Arrrgggh!" She pulled up her sleeve long enough to cover up one of her hands and she let out the pirate scream. 

The two were a handful to deal with. Especially in the morning. And their friends were well aware of it. Considering everything, it would be very hard for any of the two to find such a good housemate as they were to each other. Jin was a quirky guy to say the least and Carolina was even worse so joining the two together you would get the most random interactions ever. Including Jin's curiousness for bras and their engineering, to Carolina's habit of enjoying to walk around naked and meditating at 3 am with her head hanging from the couch and her legs pointed up to the ceiling. Nonetheless, they were great friends. 

Another person that was always fun to be around was Hoseok. He was the life of the party. No, saying that is insulting his whole persona. He was the life of everything. Everywhere he went, people knew and appreciated him and he was always happy. When he wasn’t, chaos was about to happen. But today, he woke up feeling more excited than usual. He was going to skip his first period to have breakfast with his sister. 

They had this tradition for a long time. As a kid, Hoseok considered his sister his best friend, she was a bit older than he was yes, but he knew there was no one else in the world that would get him like she does. When she flew to America to study fashion design he was the one who took it the hardest. So after the first year of college she flew back to Korea and convinced the entire family to move back with her when she returned for her second year. Ever since then, on the second Wednesday of the month, Hoseok and his sister would always have breakfast on a cafe nearby. The distance was exactly the same from the house to it and from the University.

"Jaz~~" Hoseok called out as soon as he laid eyes on his sister that was sitting in one of the corner booths. He was always divided between the sunny window and the comfort of the wall sofa. "No sun today huh?" He asked, after giving her a kiss on the forehead as a hello. 

"Honestly, since we moved here I can't even remember how pale I used to be." She joked. She loved heat and the beaches. 

As soon as the waitress spotted Hoseok sitting at the booth, she started walking in their direction, although she could already guess what they would order. "Good morning Peg, how are you?" Hobi greeted her with a huge smile. 

"Hey Hun." She smiled to the boy. "Is it the usual or you're up for a change?" 

"The same, as always." Jazmine, that used to be Jiwoo decided to change her name as she opened her first store 'Jazzy'. She conquered many achievements but now she had a new challenge and she wanted her brother to help. 

"These here," she said, pulling up a big pile of papers off of her bag and onto the table "I need you to spread them around campus." She bat her eyelashes unnecessarily, Hoseok was already picking up one of the papers and examining it. 'Model needed for fashion show' 

"Can I model?" He asked excited. He was proud of his sister's clothesline. 

"Of course you can. I already did one just for you, but I need more. Boys and girls and since you're so..." she searched for the right word "popular around campus, I'm sure you'll find the right people." 

"I'll do my best!" He placed his arm up to his head, saluting as if she was his captain. The food came right after and they started digging into their plates, not having space for conversation. The only sounds pronounced were "hums" and "woow" from how good the food tasted. 

Carolina was tired of hearing her tummy growl despite the hotel breakfast like she had just a couple hours ago so it was time to take a little pause from her soundtrack class. The teacher wasn't teaching anything new to her so an hour or so away wouldn't hurt much. She could already take this path with her eyes closed. Turning left, go down two flights and then left again and she was at the bar. She ordered her usual chocolate cupcake and climbed up the stairs again to her usual broom closet. 

"What? Do you need a broom?" The guy asked as soon as she opened the door, arching his brow as he exhaled the smoke from his cigarette. 

"Yes, it's witching hours already" Carolina said with a smirk on her face. 

"That's not the usual look for a witch. I guess times were good to your kind." 

"Should I presume you're the artist behind all those drawings?" Carolina asked pointing to her drawings and its correspondence. 

"Yeah I am. I was just finishing up answering you." He says with a smirk more guessing than saying but by the intrigued look on Carolina's face he was more than certain that he was right. 

"I think this is the part where I ask your name then." She said in a cool tone but too intrigued on the inside. 

"I'm Ben. Ben Hayes. And you?" He put out his hand for her to shake. 

"Carolina," She crossed her arms, eyeing him up. "Jones" 

"And what are you doing here Carolina Jones? Shouldn't you be in class?" He said in a mocking tone.

"Shouldn't you?" She raised her eyebrow. 

The truth was that Ben indeed had somewhere to be. He had been hired for a couple of weeks now to be the substitute for Miss Finning, the professor of Arts and History. He already knew he was not going to be hired. He had been jumping schools ever since he finished his degree but he never got to maintain his position. He started off in Liverpool, his hometown, then moved to London, travelled to the USA and taught in Michigan, Chicago, Houston and now LA. So he was more than certain he wasn't to stay here either. 

"I don't think that's any of your business is it?" 

"Then I could say the same, Ben Hayes." She winked at him but she was still standing still. 

"But are you going to stand there or sit down? I won't bite unless you ask me to." He winked back with his blue-ish/grey-ish eyes, tapping on one of the boxes next to him. 

"You shouldn't go around saying such things you know..." She sat down. "Someone might ask you to... someday" she says more in a whisper. 

"And I'll be more than ready to attend to their needs, trust me." His british accent rang through her ears, making her almost have goosebumps. "But do you want to stay here or do you wanna go somewhere else? I have a break between classes and I could use your company." 

"I don't know... How am I gonna be sure that your 'more than ready' is indeed reliable? Cause you know, I can't just skip being here in peace for something that isn't true..." Carolina teased. 

"Do you need a test drive then?"

"I don't ever say no to free testing." Ben's arm that was already wrapped around her, pulled her closer and Carolina took no time to react and grab him by the collarbone of his shirt, kissing him hard. The kiss was sloppy and full of tension and their hands were touching everywhere they could to ease their hunger. 

"Shall we?" He asked with a smirk on his face, parting from the kiss and nodding towards the door. 

Noon came pretty soon and the sun was hitting hard, summer was starting to creep in through spring and everyone was starting to gather they lunches, including Hyori. She only had time to have a sandwich with Hoseok before grabbing her book and finding a good spot in the lounge area. She sat down in a table of four, the only one that was available and took her books out. She was too nervous for her own liking, she tried to take down some notes from the class she just had but it was in vain, her mind was rushing through a million of things, making thousands of scenarios in her head. 

"Hey Hyori, have you been here long?" Jeonghan sits down besides Hyori, with a smile on his face, scaring her a little. She was too busy in her thoughts to even notice him coming. 

"Hi Jeonghan! No, I just got here!" She smiles to him, trying not to show how nervous she really is. 

"Should we start studying our biology? I-I mean just biology! Not ours, everyone's." Jeonghan says and then laughs embarrassed. She laughs alongside him, noticing his cute smile. He was also very nervous. 

"Sure, let's do it! Do you usually study just by reading or do you like to talk about it?" 

"Talking. It gets stuck in my mind longer!"

"Same for me" Hyori giggles. "Before we start though I have a question…" This had been bugging her ever since the first text they exchanged. 

"What is it?" He tilts his head to the side, curious, as he stares at her. 

"You're pretty smart yourself… so why would you want to study with me?" She pauses for a moment and then continues, trying to explain herself better. "Don't take me wrong! I'm glad we're studying together!!" She adds, with a blush creeping up on her cheeks.

"I think it's pretty obvious... You are top of the class and I mean... you're very pretty so I just needed an excuse to talk to you." Just like her, he was super embarrassed but he wanted her to know what he really felt, even thought that meant he had to be a little awkward and upfront.

"You're shyer than I thought you would be" She laughs, trying to ease up the mood. "And thank you, if it means something I think very high of yourself too." A proud smile showed up in his face and his whole body warmed up.

"So if we're in a time of being honest... I think I should tell you I came here to do more than studying." He turns his body in his seat so that he is completely facing her. He was holding up his breath and he didn't even realized but he was a man on a mission now. He continued to lean in into her and he could already feel her breath when...

"Oh! There you are guys!" Asa, a cute pale boy with the brightest blue eyes is rushing up to then, holding his backpack just by one strap on his left shoulder. "I thought you did study sessions in the library!" He smiles, totally clueless of the situation that was going on. 

"Oh- Hi! Hm- Who…?" Hyori asked, breathless, while nervously looking between both boys.

"This is Asa. He's my roommate." Jeonghan says, with a big frown on his face. 

"Hi! I heard a lot from you Hyori!" Asa says as he sits down across the table from them and can't help but wink at the girl. 

"So are we studying or not?" Jeonghan asked, clearly upset that Hyori's attention was now divided. 

"Yes! Of course!" She opened her manual on the marked page. "Are you… from our class? I never saw you there." She eyed Asa.

"Oh no!" He said chuckling. "I heard from Jeong here you were giving lessons and I always wanted to know more about biology!" He said as honest as he could be, making Hyori open up a big smile. 

"Well you're always free to contact me, I love biology and I love teaching so…"

"I'll make sure to hold you to that! You will want to get rid of me in no time." He joked, making her laugh but before she could reassure him, Jeonghan spoke again. 

"Can we study? Some of us have exams to prepare for!" 

"I highly doubt it! And yes sorry-" She couldn't help but tease Asa one last time before turning to Jeonghan and squeezing his arm. "Ok, everyone on page 70?"

"Oh I don't have a book, can we share one?" Asa said sheepishly.

"Have mine, I can see from yours?" Jeonghan said to Hyori almost immediately throwing him his book. 

"Yes sure!" Hyori let a shy smile as she felt Jeonghan pull his chair closer to hers.

As it was usual on Wednesdays, Jimin and Taehyung would always eat together. This Wednesday it ended up being McDonald’s. They decided to do this every week ever since they moved into their dorms and realized neither one of them really knew how to cook. They would always order individual menus, but ended up having bites out of each other’s food; because Jimin’s wrap looked too good and fresh and because Tae’s bacon was just asking Jimin to take a huge bite.  

Right now, it was almost 4 in the afternoon and Jimin was going to have football practice. They were walking together in silence, they knew each other for too long to have to always keep a conversation; in some, they enjoyed the silence time they’d have from time to time. But Jimin kept sighing and Taehyung knew something was wrong, he was just making his friend hurt a little before giving him love.  

“I have a problem and I need to talk to you about it. Ask me what’s going on.” Jimin mostly cried, putting his full weight on Tae’s shoulder like he had just fainted.  

“Ahhh” Taehyung said in an annoyed tone, followed by a chuckled, before pushing his friend back to his place. “Just start talking! Why are you always like this?!”  

“Are you going to be a good friend or just complain?” He faked a pout before laughing right after, seeing Tae’s side look. “I’m nervous about the game this week. We have to win or we’ll drop down to 3rd place and that’s not nothing something we can afford right now... plus I have an exam of history of contemporary dance on Monday and I don’t think I’ll have time to study.”  

“Look... I don’t think you need to worry.” Taehyung started off confident but genuine. “You are a pretty good quarterback, that’s why they chose you to be it. You'll do just fine, don’t overthink about that. Your body will remember everything once you’re on the field you know?” He squeezed Jimin’s shoulder and then proceeded. “About the exam... I can help? I know a few things so maybe we can just revise it before you go to sleep? I can stay up and read it to you?” Taehyung would do anything to help Jimin, especially if it was about something he cared about. Even when he was little, he used to stood up to boys who tried to be mean to Jimin even if he was scared to death of them.  

“But what about the party?!”  

“What party?” Taehyung asked. Was there a party he wasn’t invited for?

“The volley’s team is playing home. I'm sure there’ll be a party even if they lose, which I doubt. It’s an easy game.” Jimin said, thinking of what Jungkook had said at lunch the day before. He was confident they would win the game by far. “If we go to the party we can’t study.”  

“Oh... It’ll be a pity if we lose the party, right?” Taehyung let an ‘huh?’ “Maybe... we can just not sleep and try to get all that history in your head?” He suggested but the look on his face wasn’t too confident. It wasn’t a party if they didn’t get completely hammered.  

“I’m screwed.” Jimin said after a few minutes of ponderation, letting out again another sigh. “Might as well go out with a bang, right?” He shrugged and they walked a bit more. But then the thought of his parents came to his mind and all the effort they had done for him, he couldn’t let them down and lose his scholarship. “Maybe I should find a job? To help my parents?”  

“You know you wouldn’t even be able to tend to your basic needs if you did that... you’re already all packed!” Taehyung said worried.  

Jimin’s family wasn’t loaded, but they’d always lived well. His dad worked as an accountant for many years now and he reached a point where he was making a lot of money, so much so that his mom even quitted her job. They even found a house in one of the nicest neighborhoods, that’s how him and Taehyung were friends, they were front neighbors and they would play every day. Them and Carolina, but she wasn’t very fond of Jimin and he never quite understood why. But a couple of years back, the company for whom Jimin’s dad worked had a crisis and they had to let go more than half of their employees. Luckily, Jimin’s dad wasn’t one of them but it was getting hard for him to sustain an entire family on his back. That was one of the reasons he had to stay on campus. That and because both him and Taehyung wanted to have the “full college experience”.  

“Did they tell you something? Maybe I could like find a job and help you out?”  

“Not really. I talked to my mom yesterday and she said my dad had been working late. They're threating to fire a couple of people so he’s been doing some extra hours to not be part of the ones who will be fired.” Jimin said in a sad tone that Taehyung picked up right away.  

“I’m sure your dad will be fine! He’s a good worker! And like I said, if you need me to help, I can help you. I'll look for some part times next to our dorm.” And he already knew Jimin wouldn’t be capable of ever asking him to but he would still look, just in case his friend needed help.  

“It’s ok Tae, but thank you.” Jimin squeezed his shoulder and that meant he was grateful for everything his friend would do for him. Taehyung gave him a sweet smile.  

They kept on walking, talking about some random things that would pop into their minds. That was until Jimin stopped on his track, furrowing his eyes as if he was trying to see someone and Taehyung did the same, trying to look in the same direction he was.  

“I know that girl…” Jimin trailed off. “Oh, that’s Jean from my class. Hey Jean!” He walked up to her, followed right after by Taehyung. She was leaning against a tree, a book in hand.  

“Oh hum… hey… Jimin.” She started off shy. She wasn’t even aware he knew of her existence.  

“Are you alone?” He asked and she simply nodded.  

“Oh is that Free?” Taehyung sneaked out of Jimin’s back, seeing the manga the girl was reading.  

“Yeah, I just started reading it.”  

“Woah!” He said excited. “I didn’t know there is a manga for it, I only know the anime.” Taehyung said while peaking over to see the pages.

“You should try it then, it’s even better than the anime for now.” She smiled politely to him.  

“I will!”  

“We’re headed to the field, wanna come?” Jimin said as he pulled his bag up his shoulder.  

“Oh no… thank you anyway!”  

“Well, I’ll see you in class then!” Jimin waved off, starting to walk back to the field.  

“Bye Jean!”  

“What are you going to do now?” Jimin asked, noticing they were just a couple of feet away from the field.  

“I’m going to lie down there.” Taehyung pointed towards the bleachers where a couple of cheerleaders were already sitting down. “Imma watch you play and I'll take some photos to remind you how great you look.”  

“Ah~~!” Jimin let out an overexaggerated sigh, his hands over his heart. “You are my best friend, you know that!”  

“I know, I'm the best.”  

The boys parted ways. Jimin went into the locker room to change into his uniform and Taehyung took out his camera, ready to take some shots. The cheerleaders were all gathered, sitting in a circle going over the routine for this game and he noticed Deo, from the night before. Their eyes met for a couple of seconds before she looked away, turning her attention to what some other girl was saying. Soon the boys got out of the facilities, helmets under their arms and walked straight to the coach. It didn’t take long for Taehyung to fall asleep. His tummy was still kinda full from lunch and the sun was just making everything better. He was warm and the hard wood from the bleachers didn’t seem so bad so he just laid down, taking up 5 spaces. He woke up a couple of hours later, with Jimin shaking him up, laughing hard. ‘Oh man, your forehead, no bandanas for you for a couple of days.’ And as soon as he touched his forehead, he hissed. Did he really had to keep his arm all over his face BUT miss his forehead, no luck.  

On the other side of the campus, the study session got a little bit calmer after Hyori started explaining everything the best way she could and Asa was trying his best to pay attention but it was hard. Even harder for Hyori, who kept on laughing at his jokes and interventions. Jeonghan was regretting ever telling his roommate about his plans for the afternoon but he couldn't just kick him out, at least not in front of Hyori. After a while, Hyori's phone kept on beeping and she just had to excuse herself from what she was teaching Jeonghan to take a look at it. 

"Guys, the study session is great and I wish I could stay more but it's getting late and I promised my friends I would have dinner with them…" She pouted a little. "You guys mind if I go?"

"Of course!" They both said at the same time.

"Kiri I'll be waiting for our next study session!" Asa says getting up, mimicking Hyori's movements. 

"Stop being annoying!" Jeonghan whispered to him, widening his eyes to Asa. 

"Please do!" She laughed to Asa, not even noticing Jeonghan's face. "It was really nice to meet you Asa. Thank you, you two for today, I had a good time" She smiled kindly to the both of them, giving a kiss in the cheek to each one of them. "Bye guys~ See you around!"

“Dude what the hell!” Jeonghan slapped his roommate’s head, annoyed that he ruined his little date.  

“What did I do?!” Asa scratched the place where he was hit, still looking at Hyori fade in the distance.  

Hyori was hugging her books so tight; she kept her eyes on the floor, overly excited by her study session and was trying her best to steady her breathing. She already knew she was going to get teased for being late, something she never did and always complained when Jungkook was. Her pace her face and she as a hole bumped into a tall boy that quickly apologize. She did the same.  

Namjoon kept on looking at her as she walked a little too fast. His heart tightened a bit, did he hurt her when they bumped into each other? He was so focused on going over his speech for debate club on his head that he didn’t even noticed where he was going. That and the fact that tonight’s debate was against Najma Aweys. She was this pretty girl who was majoring in English Lit and she caught his eyes ever since his first debate against another college. That was the moment he first noticed her.  

His dad was nagging his head for over a month now because the semester was almost over and he still didn’t have any extracurricular activities to add to his resume alongside his perfect record of attendance and grades. So tired of hearing him, he joined the debate club and the president was so impressed by his arguments that he was invited to join the regional contest.  

He remembers that day perfectly. He was so nervous he was afraid the sweat was going to be noticeable on his armpits since the air-conditioner wasn’t working and it was almost 38°C. Najma was wearing a soft blue flowy dress that fitted her curves perfectly and made her look almost like a princess but once she started talking and disarming her opponent, that was when it really hit him. He was crushing on her.  

“Hey Najma!” He waved at her as he saw her talking outside the debate club with her girlfriends. “Nice suit.” He winked as she smiled politely to him.  

“Hey Nam!” It was her nickname for him.  

He was too awkward to have a full conversation with her, the only thing he always managed to do was these small interactions. And to him, it was better than nothing. Jin would always tease him about having to make a move 'Dude if she has a nickname for you that means something. Who knows more about girls than me?’ and that would always make Carolina laugh and tease him about how even the clueless Tae was smoother than himself, the old timer.  

Hyori was now jogging. The café that was only a couple of minutes away from campus seemed like it was miles away and she was getting frustrated for being late. Even Jungkook was already there. She stopped when she saw the sign right around the corner and she turned it, all her friends were sitting outside, in a table that clearly wasn’t made for 5 people but they were all squeezing in to be together. Once they noticed her, everyone stopped talking just to pick it up right back, but now directed to her.  

“Oh look who finally decided to show up!”  

“There she is!”  

“Can we eat now? I’m starving!!”  

“Sorry I’m late!” Hyori said trying to catch her breath from all the jogging but still making her best to look normal.  

“And where have you been to be this late?” Jungkook put up his wrist tapping on it like he had a watch there and his left eyebrow was arched. This was the perfect moment for him to excuse himself from all the times he was late and nag Hyori.  

“None of your business.” The girl said taking a seat on the end of the table, right between Deo and Jimin.  

“Is everything ok?” Hoseok asked, honestly concerned.  

“What do you mean none of my business?” Jungkook stepped all over Hobi’s question. “I always have to tell you where I was!”  

“And that’s because you’re a child.” Deo teased, sticking her tongue out making Jungkook scoff and make some comment about not knowing why they were even friends. The only thing he wasn’t doing yet was pouting.  

“Jungkookie, we’re your best friends, stop being grumpy.” Jimin said, squeezing the boy’s shoulder.

“Everything is fine Hobi, just took me a while to get here.” Hyori smiled to the boy that was on the other end of the table, completely ignoring Jungkook.  

“Where were you then missy?” Deo asked again, since Hyori had managed to escape the question.  

“I was on the library studying! I lost track of time! Oh~” she looked around to the plates of some boys that were already ready to be ate. “What are you guys eating?  

“I ordered some fries! With cheese on top.” Hobi said proudly, looking at his dish.

“Pizza, but don’t- I need to know!” Deo whined.  

“Of course she wasn’t in the library” Jungkook rolled his eyes, joining Deo and folding his arms to give his sentence more impact. “No one loses track of time in a library.”  

Hyori gave Deo a knowing look that she understood right after. It meant ‘please shut up I’ll tell you everything at the dorms’. “Well that’s because you have no braincells.” she finally answered Jungkook. 

“And it depends on what you’re doing there.” Jimin teased.  

“Are you serious?” Jungkook pretended a hurt look. “Woah… I should find new friends.”  

“Oh stop you two! Let’s just eat!” Hobi said, tired of waiting to eat his chips that were getting cold.  

“She started it!” Jungkook whined, making everyone laugh.  

“It’s ok, I’ll ask for a round for us Gguk!” Jimin whispered to the boy.  

“Shut up virgin boy.” Hyori furrowed her eyebrows making Deo automatically spit her drink, not being able to control her laughter.  

“You’re going way too far, Lee!”  

“Guys!” Hobi and Jimin both said at the same time, tired of hearing them.  

“Ok kids, that’s enough.” Deo said standing up and pulling Hyori right behind her. “We’re going to order her food.”  

“Bring beer!”  

“Don’t forget my sprite!”  

“On it!” Hyori said winking to Hobi. Once they stepped inside the door Deo started asking a million questions.  

“So~~ you’ll tell me now or you’re going to make me suffer and wait until we get to the dorms?”  

“Please don't do a scandal, and I'll tell you better once we are at the dorms but basically I was with Jeonghan but a friend of his arrived and sat there with us and he was like the cutest” she emphasized a lot in the last word “I must have blushed like tons"

"You're still blushing, it looks like you ran a marathon" She chuckled, excited with her friend’s life. "But ok, serious face on but once we get to the dorms, you'll have to tell me everything!"

“I literally ran a marathon to get here!” They both laugh and the waiter finally comes.  

Hyori orders a plain burger with fries, she’s not very hungry. And after all she ran if she ate a lot she’d probably throw up. They pay the drinks and the food and the waiter informs them the food will only take a couple of minutes and he’ll bring it to the table. Once they step outside, Jimin shushes the other boys.  

"Oh yes, such nice weather here!" He says a little too loud, pretending nothing happened, but the girls were too smart not to notice their whispers.  

"What do you think of the weather Jungkook?" Deo asks Jungkook, arching her eyebrow to him. Next to him, Hobi was looking up to the clouds, almost whistling, making his best to avoid eye contact.  

“The weather?” His voice got up an octave. “Yup, super nice! We should go to the pool and uh… have a party?” His tone was nothing but confident and Deo couldn’t help but laugh at his silliness.  

“Oh~~ we should really go to the pool!” Jimin said now excited with the thought of a swim. “Let’s go after we eat!”  

“Ok cut the crap. The weather? Really?” Hyori said still standing up next to the table, one hand on her hip showing even more authority.  

“It is a nice weather.” Deo joked.  

Hyori arched her eyebrow and looked at Hoseok that immediately look everywhere but to her. “Hobi look at me.”  

“Hey don’t force eye contact like that! You weirdo!” Jungkook said but she ignored him.  

“Hum…” Hoseok trailed off, exchanging looks with the boys. “Sorry bro… basically there’s this new girl-”

He’s interrupted. “Dude what the fuck!” Jimin and Jungkook said at the same time and if it weren’t a desperate time, they would’ve high fived.  

“Jimin likes her, she’s one year older than him and her name is Sarah. That’s all I know.” He lowered his head in defeat and then turned to Jimin. “Sorry!”  

“DUDE BRO CODE!” Jimin said, frustrated.  

“Wow, we can’t even talk in peace now.” Jungkook shrugged.  

“Huh…” Deo started, “and you weren’t going to tell us!”  

“Sorry! I’m an honest guy!” Hobi said, putting a chip right in front of Jimin’s mouth that he just couldn’t refuse.  

“Oh please tell me all about her!” Hyori now sat down, waiting expectantly.  

“See! They can help!” Hoseok added.  

After that, Jimin was forced to spill all the details he had on the Sarah girl. He didn’t really know much but Hyori and Deo already were with their phones on their hands searching on social media for the girl. If she was majoring in Investigative Journalism, she had to have any form of social media, and if she did, they would find her. Jimin wouldn’t be able to hide the girl from them for a very long time and in a way he was glad Hobi spilled everything because although Jungkook loved a good gossip, he was terrible at getting information. By the end of the dinner, the girls already found out that Sarah was friends with one of the boys Hyori tutored and now it was only a matter of days until they started planning a super scheme to make her and Jimin talk. They were good friends like that.  

Jungkook was the first to abandon the hangout because he had practice and he, obviously, didn’t have his bag done to shower. Once he got to his floor, the smell of barbeque filled his nostrils and he wasn’t walking anymore, he was more like floating, following the amazing smell. He ended up in front of his own door. Once he opened it, he saw Yoongi and Namjoon eating.  

“Hey man.” Yoongi said once he noticed him.  

“You want some?” Namjoon asked, turning around in his chair to see Jungkook.

“The smell in the hall… amazing guys.” He chuckled. “Thanks, but I have to say no, I have practice in a few.”  

“This late?” Namjoon said already feeling sorry for the boy.  

“Are you sure you can handle going to practice on an empty stomach?” Yoongi asked. He didn’t hang much with Jungkook but he liked to have him as a roommate. He was quiet, clean and he liked the same type of food as him.  

“Yeah, we have a game Saturday and coach is going crazy with our practices. We’re even playing with the girls now.” He laughs lightly. “I ate like an hour ago. I’ll probably end up bringing something home.” He says turning to Yoongi that only nods.  

“With girls? Like… girls in mini shorts?” Namjoon says already excited, the thought of joining the team, running through his mind.  

“Wish it was that good bro.” Jungkook laughs dryly, tapping on his shoulder. “Most of them look like Hulk, they enter full beast mode.”  

“Oh… that must be- uh… Nevermind.” He turns back to his food.  

Yoongi couldn’t keep a straight face to Namjoon’s comment and laughed lightly. He heard rumors about a party and Jungkook confirmed it right away, inviting them to join after the game. They talked a little bit more about their crazy front door neighbor. It was an old lady, maybe in her 60’s and she acted like she was 20. Hell, she even lived near campus. Besides her, everyone in the building was a student. The new good story was that she was developing a crush on Namjoon. Every time she heard him leave the house, she would peek her head out of the door, with rolls on her hair and say ‘have a good day handsome’.

Jungkook excuses himself and goes inside his room, picking up his gym bag from the floor. He quickly shuffles through his clothes and picks up a random shirt and a pair of shorts, a towel and his flipflops. He crossed the living room, saying goodbye to the older boys that were finishing eating and left, towards the elevator.  

“Oh hey Jin.” Jungkook said once the elevator’s door opened, revealing his neighbor from the top floor.  

“Hey man, how are you?”  

“It’s been a while since I last saw you. Since the photoshoot...” He recalled the moment they were together for the last time. It was a photography class and Carolina had brought Jin and Taehyung to model. Jungkook ended up befriending both boys and took photos of them as well.  

“Ah~~” Jin lets out a satisfied sound, remembering that day as well. “It was fun and the shoots you took of me looked great.”  

“If you ever need new ones hit me up.” They reach the ground floor and both exit the elevator, walking side by side until they leave the building completely.  

“You have practice?” Jin asked, only now noticing Jungkook’s bag.  

“Yeah, it’s in a few.”  

“I can take you. I’m going out with a friend but it’s still early, I can drop you there.”  

“I won’t say no to that. If I had to walk all the way back to campus I doubt I'd be able to score.” He chuckles. They got inside the car and it took Jin a while to start it. “Is everything alright?”  

“Oh yeah, I'm just waiting for Carolina, she should be coming down any second. She has practice too.”  

‘Oh boy’ Jungkook thought to himself. Carolina only frowned when she saw him but before she could say anything Jin told her to get in or else they would be late. She had to get into the backseat, very reluctantly and once they got to campus, she quicken up her pace to not even have to talk with the so called virgin boy. He honestly didn’t mind, after the last time they were together, things went south really fast.  

The vibe was bugging Jin and he made a self-note to ask Carolina what had happened between the two but probably not today. He was going out with his friend Harry, a boy from his major that finished off last year but they maintained contact. If he didn’t get home very drunk, it wasn’t his friend Harry. But once he woke up, he would remember to ask.  

> Day 3 <

[comic-critic-squad]

What are your personal opinions about Natsumewolf´s comic on DA? To me, it just seems like another Wolfs rain rip off, hence I never really was intrested in reading it fully (just a few pages or so back then when I was still a teen) but it appears to be one of the most popular wolf comics on DA and is praised quite a lot.

I’ve mentioned my distaste for it and the creator a few times, but I really, really want to go in-depth with it someday. This is another comic where I despise the creator for shit they’ve said.

NatsumeWolf Oct 24, 2017 "Rape Culture In America" Sorry to burst your bubble. But that simply does not exist in America. And the very fact that I have to elaborate that shows who is the one who is truly "Wasting" their time here.  If there truly was a " Rape Culture In America " Then people like Brock Allen Turner would be freely walking the streets and continuing to harm women! The very fact that he was prosecuted, sentenced, charged AND GETS DEATH THREATS ON A DAILY BASIS FROM WOMEN, MEN AND OTHERS IS PROOF THAT THERE IS NO RAPE CULTURE IN AMERICA. If there was, then no one would care. No one would have jumped to defend Emily Doe! No one would have done anything! AND He would not be condemned like he is today!It's just sad at this point that someone who has been sexually assaulted twice before the age of 14, someone who gets cat called on a daily bases, someone who gets followed home by strangers, someone who has had a fucking stalker has to explain this to a sheltered feminist that there is no rape culture in the US! If you want to see a real " Rape Culture " There are loads of places over seas that truly have that! In one particular place if a woman is raped she is forced to marry her raper. WE DON'T HAVE THAT HERE IN THE UNITED STATES! This image. IS JUST AN IMAGE OF TWO FICTIONAL CHARACTERS HAVING A FICTIONAL INTERACTION! Adoth is a monster! He is the " Bad Guy ". I wanted to do something that did not forgive what he did, but simply show a new prospective from a naive child who is a product of a horrible circumstance! In no way do I excuse his behavior! In no way is this "normalized"! If I did then I would have had Natsume forgive him and end up with him Much like in Game of Thrones when Dani ends up with Kal Drogo. But that is NOT THE CASE!Look. I think it's wonderful how much compassion you have. But it is so misguided. You are making an issue out of utterly nothing. I know you think you are standing up for the voiceless, but when there is no voices to begin with you are fighting a loosing battle. Well more like a non exiting battle. Again, these are fictional characters in a fictional situation! Adoth and Yvaine will never meet in the comic! Adoth and Natsume both die at the end! This is a fictional situation!

and

NatsumeWolf Edited Oct 28, 2017 *Calls me uneducated while providing fabricated numbers and misinformed facts without citations or actual facts* Who's the uneducated one here? Sorry but articles from Every Day Feminism and Buzzfeed don't count as actual facts. I am surprised the liberal feminist teachers in your college allow that. In real colleges you have to provide citations when making a point, but lets face it. I could give you fact after fact with citations and real life experiences and because it does not fit your narrative you will excuse it and throw insults because you have nothing else in your arsenal. ( You still have not given an example or explain how we live in a rape culture, but okay!) Yes, Brock Turner is the perfect example of how there isn't a rape culture in America. If there was, as I said it would not have created such an outrage. He gets death threats on a daily basis. I am sure if you did your research you could look up his number and ask him or his parents yourself. I would provide you with the number but doxxing is against the law. So that wasn't enough for you? Okay, what about a more recent event. Twiggy Ramirez. He was just accused of sexual misconduct from a well known liar. She could be telling the truth, or she could not. But that does not changes the fact of the outrage over it. Want me to provide an example, Sure thing, here we go! twitter.com/search?q=Twiggy%20… That is his twitter. Look at all those comments of people voicing their outrage. More outrage than support. What about Harvey Weinstein! Look at the outrage against him for his sick disgusting acts! Or how about Bill Cosby! If we lived in a rape culture, NO ONE WOULD CARE! I could bring up every rape case in the last year and show you every single source of outrage but that would take too much effort and you simply are not worth it!Maybe if you were more educated you would see that some of the rape cases are false! Women simply getting revenge on someone because of something so stupid. Take for instance " The Mattress Girl " who lied about a boy raping her and because of that he ended up committing suicide! Source here ! : www.youtube.com/watch?v=0pwQSn…Citations for video here ! : www.minds.com/blog/view/752265… Oh not enough for you? What about the woman who lied about getting raped by several men getting some arrested! Soruce her nypost.com/2017/08/25/woman-he… and here ! www.youtube.com/watch?v=5xBdxT… (citations in description  ) and there is more where that came from.Where are you getting Iran from? I don't care what you are majoring in! That has nothing to do with these fake characters you are bitching about. And yes you are triggered! Look at this mountain you made out of a pebble. Bet you're real fun to hang around with. At his point you are nothing more than a walking cliché of  a unstable feminist.ANYWAY~ There is no point in refuting anything because you are just going to be triggered again and again and it's just going to be this vicious cycle of abuse. To reiterate, you were triggered by this image of something that isn't real. That to me is just... well there is no nice word for it but it's crazy. I was astounded by your reaction to utterly nothing. A non existing situation. I am just frightened by you and your response. I have had my share of dealing with mentally unstable people in the past and I can not handle another one. A non existing situation... thats what triggered you... a non existing situation of fictional characters that do not exist in your life... you are scary! Very scary! Again I will say this  YOU WERE TRIGGERED BY SOMETHING THAT DOES NOT EXIST!I am thrilled this is our last conversation because I can not mentally take this any more. You turned a simple picture of a naive child meeting her monster of a father into this crazy situation. Please.. just stay away from me. Don't come on my account. Don't look at my images. Don't bother my friends or family. Just leave me alone and keep your crazy away from me. You are being blocked after this. DO NOT CONTACT ME AGAIN! If you do, the staff with be informed. I repeat, do not contact me! It was my fault for indulging you. I see that now. I never should have fed into you. Because that is what people like you want. But no more. Stay away from me!

In case you want some context: https://natsumewolf.deviantart.com/art/Not-a-monster-in-her-eyes-681380335

Anyway, the comic is at 500 pages, so that’s definitely a big reason why I tell myself “yeah I’ll rip it apart some other day.” Today is not that day. Tomorrow probably won’t be either. 

- Dr. Salt

[redrobin-detective]

The Long Way Around 7

Here's chapter 7 a day earlier cause I'll be busy tomorrow night. Not much to say up here that won't be spoilery other than this chapter concludes the first week of school, and the initial scene setting and character development. Things will start moving faster and getting a little more exciting, please stick around.

AO3/Fanfiction

Chapter Seven: Shinsou's Starting Line

It's starting to drive him a little bit insane that Izuku still hasn't seen All Might despite the fact that it's already Friday of the first week. He clearly wasn't having any luck trying to track the man after school so he figures he'd try early in the morning since he wasn't allowed to train until Sunday.

Izuku spent almost 45 minutes hiding near the teacher's lounge, hoping he'd catch a peek at All Might. While the Number One was nowhere to be seen; he did get to see Present Mic talking loudly to an exhausted looking man in a scarf. Midnight was in and out a few times and he even managed to see Ectoplasm. But still no All Might.

Izuku wanders away from the teacher's area before someone notices his stalking and pulls out his hero notebook, now up to volume 14, and analyzes his updated All Might page in annoyance. He underlines elusive twice with his pencil before slamming the book shut. He still has half an hour before homeroom starts; there were a couple of things he wants to add to his notebook about the pros he saw today.

Izuku walks the halls by memory, muttering to himself about how Midnight was taller than she seemed on TV and a mental note to look up that scruffy man he'd seen with Present Mic. Was he another pro? Despite being lost in thought, some deep-seeded survival instinct has Izuku stopping and leaning around the corner near his classroom.

When Izuku peers around, he sees a couple of older kids hovering around a boy with gravity defying purple hair. Just seeing Shinsou makes Izuku a bit uncomfortable and he almost considers just leaving until Shinsou turns slightly and Izuku can see he looks unhappy. Before he can even think about it, Izuku is stalking forward.

"Hey, leave him alone," Izuku says before he can think otherwise, parting the group and standing in front of Shinsou who looks just as stunned as he is. Just once, Izuku would like to control his idiotic impulses.

"Oh look, the villain kid has a partner in crime," One of the older kids sneers down at him. The villain kid? Izuku looks back at Shinsou who's glaring at his shoes with a dark look on his face. "Better watch your step brat; don't you know the only reason they let him into Yuuei is so the heroes could keep an eye on him?"

"That's not true," Izuku interjects, a little uncertain but these guys are nothing compared to Kaachan. "If anything, they accepted him because he's smart and he's got an amazing quirk that will save a lot of people." He takes a step forward. "Shinsou hasn't done anything wrong and aren't the real villains the ones who bully other people for no reason?" One of the boys winces and another gives an uneasy glance towards their leader.

"I don't know who you think he is but he sure isn't a hero, I'll leave you to figure that one out on your own. Come on guys, I don't want to catch his naivety." With that said, the boy stalks off with his two cronies following awkwardly behind. Izuku watches them go with a frown; bullies can be found everywhere, even at a prestigious school like Yuuei.

"Are you oka-" Izuku asks, turning around to face Shinsou only to be met with a light push that puts him back a few steps. Shinsou's face is still turned to the ground and his fists are trembling slightly.

"I didn't ask for your help, who the hell are you to interfere in my business?" Shinsou demands in a tight, angry voice.

"I'm sorry, I-I was just trying to help," Izuku says, his confidence gone with an almost visible pop as he tries to fix whatever it was he did wrong. "Those guys had no right to speak to you that way."

"Oh yeah and what do you know? You don't know anything about me," Shinsou hisses.

"I know you want to be a hero," Izuku responds quietly. "You mentioned it on the first day of school. You're right, I don't know much about you but that alone tells me that you'd never be a villain." Shinsou seems to freeze at that, just for a moment before he's moving again.

"You really don't know anything, just leave me alone." Shinsou says as he shoves his hands deep into his pockets and stalks off.

Izuku lets out the breath he'd been holding and rubs at his head. Why is it he always says the wrong thing around this kid? He has no idea what to do but a part of him can't help but empathize a bit with Shinsou. No matter how distant and hostile he acts; Izuku can see that the other boy is hurting. He wonders if there is anything he can do to help; he wonders if Shinsou would let him.

Izuku spends the time before homeroom writing in his hero notebook but he finds he can't concentrate on the words. Instead, he thinks about how resigned Shinsou had looked before Izuku had intervened. Like he'd accepted the fact that no one else believed him capable of being a hero with his quirk.

It was sad in a way that way that Izuku completely understood having been in the same situation for most of his life. Shinsou is probably similar to how Izuku would have turned out if he'd let his anger and bitterness overwhelm him. It made him want to help his classmate. He's thinking over to approach Shinsou when there's a light tap on his hand. He looks up to Motome's empty eyed stare.

"I see you had another run-in with our class's most mysterious member," Motome says quietly, presumably so the others don't hear. "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry," she says referring to the use of her quirk to look into his past as if the invasion of his privacy wasn't that big of a deal. "You just looked deep in thought and I thought I'd see what I could do."

"Yeah," Izuku hums as an answer, not really sure what to think of the unwanted intrusion. Despite how nice most of his class was, Izuku sometimes found himself frustrated by their casual, usually unwelcome, quirk use on him. But he had been thinking about what to do with Shinsou. Motome wanted to be a detective someday, maybe she could help.

"I just don't know what to do about Shinsou. You know that we've had some bad encounters but he doesn't really seem like a mean person. I wish there was something I could do to make him feel more comfortable but I don't know how to go about it." Izuku elaborates as he loses himself to his thoughts.

"Maybe if I just confronted him directly, told him that I don't care about what happened in the past? But I also don't want him to think he can just walk all over me. He doesn't seem to have any other people he talks to, maybe he just doesn't want to talk to anyone…" he mutters to himself until Motome quietly knocks on his desk with an amused smile.

"You're quite a character Midoriya; you just don't stop do you?" she says fondly.

"Stop what?" Izuku asks as Korudo and Taketsu walk in and he raises his hand to greet them.

"Helping people," Motome elaborates. "I don't know what you should do; all I know is that there are rumors going around about him, mostly related to his brainwashing quirk. Honestly, those rumors don't seem to match up what I've seen from him. Jerk he may be but I haven't seen him really do anything other than keep to himself."

As Taketsu and Korudo walk over, Motome pushes herself away from his desk. "It's up to you what you do, though. Just be careful and keep yourself out of trouble, you hear? Don't make us worry anymore than we already do."

"I will," Izuku said, unable to stop the eye roll. If he'd known his confrontation with Kaachan would cause everyone to coddle him, he would have just punched his former friend in the face. He hates that everyone seems to think they need to intervene in his life. Speaking of which... "Oh and Motome?"

She turns back to look at him as she makes her way to her seat. "I don't really have anything to hide but maybe ask next time before using your quirk?" Izuku says quietly, like it's something rude he's asking. Motome doesn't seem angry though and instead she looks a little embarrassed.

"Right, sorry about that, I kind of have a habit of poking my nose where it doesn't belong. Let me know if I go too far again, okay?" She smiles before quickly sitting back down as Chiura-sensei enters the room.

"Alright, in your seats, homeroom has now begun," Chiura-sensei announces as he sets down his bag. "I hope you're getting settled and preparing yourself because it will only get tougher as the term continues." He intones with a stern look before going through the daily announcements.

Izuku sighs a little bit, letting himself be a bit distracted as he glances out of the corner of his eye to where Shinsou was sitting. He's wondering how the other boy was faring after his bullying incident and, if he was being honest, Izuku is a bit curious about the quiet, bitter boy who wanted to be a hero.

When his eyes land in Shinsou's direction, he squeaks and quickly rights himself when he sees the other boy is openly glaring at him. Izuku squirms a bit in his seat, happy when homeroom ends so he can find some relief.

In the end he doesn't get it.

Every time for the rest of the morning whenever he dares to turn around and check, he would find purple haired boy still staring him down. First, then second, third and fourth period came and went and Izuku thought he was going to bust out of his skin from discomfort and anxiety.

Korudo and Kyoshi kept mouthing to him if he was okay but he kept waving them off. He tells himself he does it because he doesn't want to involve them in another situation but Izuku knows that he just doesn't want to turn to face them and see Shinsou's penetrating gaze out of the corner of his eye again.

By the time lunch comes, Izuku is contemplating going to Recovery Girl for a note so he could excuse himself home. He certainly feels like he's sick anyway. He rubs at his forehead as he continues to deflect questions and change topics all during lunch. The first week isn't even over and already he has people after him when he hasn't done anything wrong.

The thought catches him, like a hangnail on an old shirt, making him pause with his chopsticks halfway to his mouth. That's right; he hasn't done anything to deserve this. All he's done is do his best to fit in and keep working towards his dream. Does that mean he deserves people to laugh at him? to have cruel notes placed on his desk? To be glared at? He scowls as his anxiety turns to anger, going up like a campfire doused in gasoline.

"Yo, are you gonna finish that or are you gonna leave your rice hanging," Patrick teases before the brown haired boy glances at his face. Izuku doesn't know what his expression looks like but it must be bad judging by Patrick's reaction. "Woah man, you okay? You look like you need to deck someone. I personally volunteer Kamoto because that guy is a jerk also he doesn't realize the pompadour went out of style like 50 years ago."

"I'm fine," Izuku says in a voice that, even to him, does not sound fine. He clears his throat and tries again with a smile that feels like a grimace. "It'll be alright, there's just something I just realized I need to take care of. Excuse me." He scans the hall for Shinsou and finds him in his usual spot on the outer edges of the cafeteria, sitting by himself.

"Be careful," Motome says with an unhappy frown, clearly seeing where he plans on going. Korudo just gives him a thumbs up with a grin.

"I don't know what's going on but you have my support. You know where we are if you need any backup." Izuku just nods but he isn't really listening as he puts his shoulders back and walks towards Shinsou.

All his anger and nervousness seem far away when compared to his frustration that he can't enjoy his high school experience in peace. He dealt with it all through middle and primary school and he's not going to let it follow him here. He's different now. Izuku reaches the table and looms over the other boy who looks up at him with an annoyed expression.

"I thought I told you to stay out of my way," Shinsou mutters as he takes another bite from his pudding.

"Look, I don't know what your problem is but I'm not going to let you treat me like this." Shinsou gives him a droll look and saps some of Izuku's confidence, he swallows and presses on anyway. "Look, I'm sorry if I upset you earlier but I don't regret stepping in when those other kids were giving you a hard time. You don't deserve to be treated that way just like I don't deserve everything that happens to me because I'm quirkless." Shinsou scoffs and breaks eye contact to play with his pudding.

"Is that what you think this is about?" Shinsou asks dully and the dismissiveness of the statement rekindles the spark of anger in Izuku's chest that he slams a hand down on the table and startles Shinsou enough to make him look up again.

"I have no idea what this is about because you won't tell me," Izuku hisses. "Maybe if you had an actual conversation with me, we could work things out so you can find better things to do than glare at the back of my head for 4 hours straight."

"Alright, you want to talk? Let's talk. Meet me in the gym on the west side of campus after school, wear your gym uniform and don't bring your little group." Shinsou turns away and glares into his pudding. "Sensei ended our spar early the other day, we'll get this settled once and for all."

"I'll be there," Izuku nods.

It's amazing how much more quickly the afternoon passes than the morning. There's an itch under his skin as he sits through those last couple of classes that he first thinks is the resurgence of his anxiety but he later recognizes it as something similar to what he feels before a training session with Rikimaru-shishou.

Beneath his desk, his leg bounces in nervous anticipation as he watches the clock and thinks about what's to come. He mutters quietly to himself as he thinks about what he's going to do, what he'll say as he counts down the hours. Not once does he look behind him to see if Shinsou is still glaring. Whatever is going on between them is going to be addressed soon enough.

If the first half of the day seemed to drag on endlessly then the second half speeds by like a bullet. Izuku wasn't sure if he was relieved or nauseous when the final bell rang. Either way, he couldn't back out now so it was best just to get this over with.

He excuses himself easily from his friends, mentioning that he was going to get some extra training in. It's too much for him to hope that they'd forgotten about earlier but at least they're letting him deal with it on his own. They probably think he's just going to talk to Shinsou instead of fight him. Given how protective they could be, Izuku didn't enlighten them.

Izuku warms himself up briefly in the locker room as he changes into his gym uniform. He's no All Might but there's a refined strength in his muscles that wasn't there at this time last year. He's come a long way in a short period of time and he thinks that will be enough for whatever Shinsou has planned. It has to be.

He strolls into the deserted gym 20 minutes after the final bell to find his opponent working out with a punching bag. Izuku can't help the wince. The other boy not only is working without gloves or proper wrapping but the bag he'd punching is far too heavy for a beginner. Izuku can see some blood and bruising on his knuckles in between punches.

"I wasn't sure you were going to show," Shinsou says as he rolls his shoulders and walks away from the punching bag. He looks just as tired and frustrated as he did earlier.

"I told you I would," Izuku responds. "I don't want a repeat of our spar on Tuesday. I just want to work out whatever issues you have with me so that we can have a better relationship. We both want to be heroes, right? We should be working together not against each other."

"You're so naïve," Shinsou spits out viciously. "That's exactly why we can't be friends. Now get on over to the mat and we'll see once and for all who the better hero is going to be."

"This is stupid, you're not an experienced fighter and I can't get around your quirk. Can't we try talking this time?" Izuku asks even as he steps onto the mat opposite the purple haired boy. "Shinsou, please, I want to help you. You always look so angry but I think that you're really just lonely. I know because I've been in the same position."

"Stop pretending like you know me," Shinsou says as he charges forward with his hands reaching out to tackle him. Izuku dodges the attack with ease, resisting the urge to make his own move. "Come on, you're not an idiot. You know why I called you here so fight me. I know you can since you insisted on humiliating me in gym the other day."

"I wasn't trying to humiliate you." Izuku hisses as Shinsou manages to get close enough to give him a glancing punch to the shoulder which knocks him off balance. "Why won't you talk to me? What could I have possibly done to make you so angry with me?" Izuku asks as he rights himself and speeds forward to grab ahold of Shinsou's wrist and wrench it behind his back.

"You really want to know?" Shinsou asks, squirming in his hold until he brings his foot down on Izuku's own which causes him to curse and let go of his hold on the other boy. "I've had to fight every step of the way to get here. I've had to endure teachers and classmates and even my own family telling me I can't be a hero with my quirk. Do you know what that's like to be shot down no matter how hard you try?" Shinsou practically screams, his voice filled with rage but his face looks so sad.

"When I got accepted to Yuuei, I thought that maybe I could do this. I could prove myself and transfer into the hero department and get everyone to stop whispering behind my back every day." He pauses long enough to throw a sloppy swing Izuku's way which Izuku sidesteps but just barely.

"And then I get here and I find my main competition is this smiley idiot who acts like he can just walk on into the hero program without a quirk. Do you know how infuriating that is? Even when I think my dream is within reach, I get it tugged away by someone who can't possibly know what I've been through."

"That's so stupid! You don't think I know what it's like to have your dream mocked?" Izuku yells back, taking note of Shinsou's increasingly more erratic attacks, feeling both annoyed and sympathetic for the other boy. "I've been bullied and teased since the day I was diagnosed and I know how much that hurts. I lived with that hurt every day until I decided that I was done letting other people tell me what to do." Shinsou tries to grab him but Izuku bats away his hands.

"You're taking your frustration out on the wrong person, Shinsou. I'm not the one holding you back, you are. You're so determined to be angry at the people who've beaten you down that you don't see that their opinions don't matter. I worked hard to get to this point, what have you done besides be angry at the things you can't change?" Izuku ducks low under a punch and quickly swipes Shinsou's feet from underneath him. Shinsou looks surprised as he hits the mat.

"You say you want to be a hero but I don't see you doing anything about it. Train your body, improve your quirk and stop blaming other people for your problems!" Izuku emphasizes with annoyance.

"I'm not blaming anyone!" Shinsou says with a sneer.

"Then stand up and move forward! Do you want to be a hero because you want to prove everyone wrong? Or do you want to save people?" Izuku demands, ignoring the hypocrisy of the statement.

"I want to save people," Shinsou shouts angrily before seeming to calm down. "Of course I do."

"Then stop being so-" Izuku starts to answer only for a cloudy haze to fall over his mind. His brain slows down to a crawl and his muscles lock in place in his squat.

Shoot, he fell under Shinsou's brainwashing quirk again. How was it activated? Could it be counteracted? Izuku struggles to move, to do anything and finds he can't. On the ground, Shinsou rolls over onto his stomach before crawling back to his knees then to his feet. He studies Izuku for a moment, still frozen from his position near the floor.

"That looks uncomfortable, stand up," and just like that Izuku was on his feet but it wasn't his own power. It was a very distressing feeling. "You're more than an idiot, you're absolutely crazy. You know what I can do with my quirk but you didn't even hesitate to stand up for me today, didn't avoid meeting me here." Izuku takes in a deep breath as he feels control come back to him. "I still don't know what to do with you. I thought this would help but now I'm even more confused."

"You could stop being a jerk and be my friend," Izuku responds and the look of pure surprise on Shinsou's face encourages him to keep going. "We got off to a rough start but I'd like to try again. You can sit with us at lunch; the others might give you a hard time at first but they'll warm up quickly I'm sure. I can give you some tips on fighting techniques and you can show me how your quirk works."

"I just took control of your body against your will," Shinsou says quietly but full of some emotion Izuku can't place. "I could have made you do something terrible; had you bend your fingers back until they broke or forced you jump off the roof."

"No, you wouldn't," Izuku answers calmly because in some way, he gets it. He gets what it's like to be stuck in a bad mindset based on the people around you. And if he could claw his way out, then Shinsou can too. "You're not a villain just like I'm not as useless as everyone says."

"You don't know me," Shinsou says quietly, looking very lost.

"You're right, but I'd like to get to know you better," Izuku smiles. "So can we be friends now? Stop fighting each other and start fighting this terrible, corrupt system that made us feel this way in the first place?" Shinsou laughs a little at that, looking surprised even as he does, like Izuku had startled it out of him. He stares at Izuku with wide purple eyes for an extra few moments before breaking eye contact and stepping away awkwardly.

"I'll think about it," Shinsou mutters as he shoves his hands deep into his pockets and walks towards the exit. Izuku smiles wryly, thinking about how this is the second, no third, time Shinsou has left him in the dust. Oh well, Rome wasn't built in a day.

"Hey," Izuku looks up to see Shinsou hovering by the door. "Are you coming or are you going to sleep here?"

"O-oh! Yes! I'm coming, here, let me get my bag," Izuku says, running over and grabbed his backpack before practically skipping over to where the other boy was holding open the door. "Thanks!" He chirps which only makes Shinsou look more uncomfortable.

"I am sorry I guess, for uh for taking over your mind earlier and yelling at you, punching you too. I haven't really treated you fairly since school started, have I?" Shinsou mutters but Izuku waves him off as they walk down the hall.

"It's fine, this is new for both of us. I'm sorry for sending you to the mat. My master has put me through that enough times that I know it had to hurt. I can show you how to fall properly or even how to avoid an attack like that in the first place. Your quirk is handy but you'll need some combat skills if you want to transfer."

"You really are crazy, Midoriya," Shinsou scoffs but there's a small smile on his face and to Izuku, it feels like the start of a new beginning.

XxX

Inko is anxiously stirring the noodles in the pot when she hears Izuku walk through the door. She breathes a quick sigh of relief before turning around to scold her son with her spoon.

"Izuku, where have you been?" Inko demands. "You told me you were going to be home early today and, look, it's almost five! You better not have been out there training-"

"Mom, I wasn't I promise," Izuku interjects, shedding his jacket and setting himself down at the kitchen chairs but Inko isn't done yet.

"-because I have your martial arts teacher's phone number and he said to call if you'd been exercising during your little break." She looks at him, there was some guilt on his face but not much. He'd been up to something all right but he doesn't look like he normally did after practice. "I know you want to be more independent but if you say you're going to come home at a certain time, I expect you home at that time. Or at least phone me if you're going to be late. You have no idea how worried I was."

Her son may be 15 and attending a prestigious high school but that doesn't mean he's all grown up yet. It's still her job to worry over him. He frowns up at her with big green eyes that she can't really stay mad at.

"I'm sorry Mom, it's been such a crazy day, a crazy week. Something happened after school today and I lost track of time. I promise I'll call home next time."

"Well can you at least tell me what it was?" She asks, going back to her cooking as she turns down the heat on the stove. "I know it's been a while but your mom still remembers how scary the first week of high school can be."

"I uh," Izuku stammers, "it's kind of weird and I don't even know how to explain it but uh I think I made another friend today." He pauses as she turns to face him again, "Maybe, it was... kind of unclear."

"Oh Izuku that's wonderful, I'm so glad." Inko says and she is, she's so happy she could cry. A boy making a new friend shouldn't be such a big deal but for someone who's been ostracized as much as Izuku has, it's a blessing. She hadn't been sure about Yuuei at first but clearly it's been nothing but good for her son. "Tell me about them, are they nice? Do they know your other friends?"

"Shinsou is," Izuku purses his lips and sets his chin down onto his folded arm across the table. "He's a bit like me, how I was before Yuuei. He wants to be a hero too, he got a great quirk but no one else can see it. Mom, you should've seen him today, he looked so sad. I tried to help and, I don't know, maybe I did a little... but I had to do something."

"Oh baby," she says stepping away from the stove to walk over to her son. "You're a good boy, I'm sure you did help your friend. Sometimes just having someone care is enough to make a difference. One small act of kindness can mean the world to someone."

"Yeah," Izuku replies softly behind her after a moment. "Hey Mom?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I uh invite my friends over tomorrow? Taketsu, Patrick and Korudo and I talked about it earlier but I was thinking maybe I could invite Shinsou too, you know, so he knows I'm genuine in my offer to be friends." He sits upright, "Uh I hope that's not too much, I know inviting four people over is a lot but I promise we'd be good and keep the noise down and-"

"Oh hush you," Inko says fondly, cutting her son off before he really gets worked up. "I think that's a lovely idea. I've been wanting to meet your friends anyway. But don't worry, I'll keep out of the way and not embarrass you." Izuku beams at her. "Go on, you give them a call and change out of your uniform. We're having pasta tonight and I don't you to spill."

"Okay! I'll do that now!" He says, bounding out of his chair with his usual well of energy. Before rushing off to call his friends, he runs over and gives her a quick peck on the cheek. "Thanks Mom! You're the best!" And then he's off, cell phone already out.

Inko chuckles lightly to herself at her son's antics as she continues her dinner. Yes, raising Izuku hasn't been easy and she often wonders if there was more she could have done for her son. But looking at him now, some of those worries fall aside. There's been some stumbles along the way but there's no doubt that Inko brought up a strong, kind-hearted boy. She smiles to herself as she hears him talking in the other room. It's about time other children saw how wonderful her boy was.

[dancingkiwi89]

Malec Fic: I’ll Say Yes to You

(Hello, Everyone! I am having so much fun writing Malec stories. I hope you enjoy)

Today had been a long day; spending his afternoon trying to reign in his cocky parabatai, he was ready to hold his beautiful boyfriend in his arms and relax. So when Alec walked through the door to see Magnus on the couch and the sounds of what could only be 'Say Yes to the Dress.' on the television, he groaned. He wouldn't go as far to say he hated television but he just hated this show.  Of course, when it came to Magnus' pouting face, he could never resist. The noise caused Magnus to glance in his direction,

"Alexander, darling, you are home earlier than I expected. Sit with me and see what dress this lovely young woman ends up choosing."

Walking towards to kitchen Alec shook his head,  "I'd rather start something for dinner. I didn't eat much earlier."

"Alexander, food can wait a moment, there are only 15 minutes left of the episode, then we can cook together. I know how much you love to cook with me."

He just stood there looking at Magnus hoping he'd give in and let him hide in the kitchen until the episode was over but he could tell that wouldn't happen. Before he made a move towards the couch, Magnus continued,

"I know you hate weddings and anything wedding-related, just humor me."  

Alec mumbled under his breath.

"You'll have to speak a little louder, sweetheart. I couldn't make that out."

"I don't hate weddings."

"If you don't hate weddings then why do you get in this mood every single time I watch this show?"

"I don't get in a mood."

"Can you not hear the sharp tone of your voice right now? I'd call that being in a mood."

Alec didn't want to have this discussion. He just wanted to eat dinner and cuddle with his boyfriend, who at the moment seemed to be getting annoyed with him.  The last thing Alec wanted to do was upset Magnus; it would take days to get out of the doghouse if the attitude was kept up.  He sighed.

"I'm sorry if I've been snippy with you. I don't mean to be rude. If you turn the television off, I'll explain."

Magnus snapped his fingers, as the screen switched off Magnus moves over on the couch to make space for Alec. Alec sat down close enough for their knees to touch but kept his hands in this lap. Alec couldn't look up from his hands.

"Magnus, this might sound ridiculous to you. Please don't laugh. You know that I don't appreciate most of the mundane culture, the only Lightwood that cares at all is Izzy. This particular show is one of Izzy's favorites; you know how much she loves dresses.  In fact, I think she'd be the best television watching companion for you. She used to guilt me into watching, and you see these girls, who don't worry other than getting the perfect dress for their perfect wedding. You can't help but feel bitter."

He felt Magnus take one of his hands, "Why would you feel bitterness towards them, Alexander?  Mundanes have always lived relatively carefree while we deal with the stress of protecting them."

"Every time I watched this show it was a reminder that I was never going to have what I wanted. I don't mean the flashy wedding but the marriage that comes after. A relationship where I could reciprocate the feelings. I felt I would never have the chance to fall in love. I would marry some girl my parents found, have a few kids, and work until I died, lying to myself and everyone. So, I put up this front as if relationships weren't worth it. I pretended I was too busy to let something as trivial as love be something I desired. I thought I couldn't have it, so I pushed it to the back of my mind."  

"Alexander..."

"I know, I have the chance now, but it just is a reminder that if you weren't so persistent that I'd still be that guy.  I'd still be denying myself happiness out of some sense of loyalty.  And to what? The Clave? My parents? I hated myself for wanting it, Magnus. I felt I was selfish. I... I never..."

Alec choked on the words. Magnus ran his hand up and down his back. The touch was calming.  Magnus reached around Alec's back and pulled him closer.

"You want to feel loved. That isn't selfish. Everyone desires to be loved, Alec. I've been heartbroken many times because I thought I had found love."

Alec muttered, "Stupid people."

"What?", Magnus questioned, noting the annoyed tone return to his boyfriend's voice

"They were stupid to break your heart, to not realize how lucky they were to be loved by you.  The love you've shown me even when I didn't always deserve it, has made me feel okay with myself. You loved me when I didn't know that was anything about me to love."  

"There is a long list of things to love about you. I can write all the reasons down if you want."

"There's no need for that."

Magnus took the hand that was not resting at Alec's waist to bring Alec's face closer to his. The moment their foreheads touch Alec looked directly into Magnus' eyes, and he could see the future he wanted. Just the two of them against the world.

"Magnus, can I kiss you?"

"You never have to ask, sweetheart."

Alec brings his lips to Magnus', pressing against them softly at first but adds more pressure as he feels Magnus' tongue graze his bottom lip. As he was about to deepen the kiss, his stomach growled, reminding him that he hasn't eaten in hours. Magnus pulled away with a laugh. He reached to grab his phone from the table in front of them.

"How rude of me, I forgot to feed you. You must be starving."

Alec blushed, "Yeah, sorry to ruin the moment."

"Don't worry about that. Let's get you fed. How does Chinese food sound?", Magnus asks while scrolling through his contacts for the number to their favorite place.  

"Sounds perfect."

When Magnus hung up from ordering food, he turned to Alec again.

"So, you want to marry someone someday?"

Shaking his head saying no caused Magnus to throw him a questioning look.  Alec elaborated, "I don't want to marry just anyone, Magnus, I want to marry you someday."  

"You want to get married... to me? I know you are finally open about your sexuality but are sure that you'll still want to be with me in a few years? I'm your first relationship. I would be honored to marry you but have you thought about it? I love being with you, but people only stay with me for awhile. I am eventually too much for them. I don't give them what they want. Once the real me slips out, they realize they could do better."

Alec reached out and placed his hands on Magnus' shoulders because he turned away from Alec as he spoke.  It took a moment for Magnus to look at Alec, the seriousness in his eyes surprised him.

"Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn, I can't imagine loving anyone as much as I love you. I don't want to. You are the most generous person I've ever met. You care about everyone even when they are treating you poorly.  You take new Downworlders under your wing because you don' want them to be alone like you were. There is nothing you won't do for people, even if it's against your best interest. Exhibit A: Clary. No one could do better than you. I've been able to call you mine for a short time, but I have never been more proud. You were never too much for them, baby, they were not enough for you. You are worthy of love, Magnus. They were all too self-centered to know how. "

He can see that he rendered Magnus speechless. A single tear falls from one of his beautiful cat eyes.  Alec continued,

"I want to marry you someday. I want to give you the love you deserved to have your whole life.  I want to introduce you as my husband. I know you think it must be because you're the first guy who showed interest but you're wrong.  I wasn't going to risk my life for just anyone.  It wasn't going to be a random guy.  I was so far in the closet it was going to take someone special for me to come out.  It was going to take someone magical. It was never going to be anyone other than you."

A smile appeared on Magnus' face. "Alexander, the things you do to me. You are remarkable."

"I was just telling you the truth, Magnus. You hide behind your flirtatious nature because lust is easier to find than love. And passion is good at the moment. The real reason I was shocked by how many relationships you've been in other than being slightly intimidated was that no one showed you that you could love yourself too. I'm not the only person who feels hatred towards themselves."

The gasp that escaped from Magnus' lips echoed in the apartment.

"How do you do that? Alec, how do you walk right through the walls I've spent centuries building?"

"A lot of people look at you in the image they've created for you, but rarely do people look further to see you for who you are.  They don't see past the eyeliner and magic tricks. There is a look in your eyes that appears when you think no one is paying attention. I recognized that look. I've seen it in the mirror on numerous occasions. The moment I saw it on you, I knew you weren't playing games. I knew you understood me in ways I didn't understand myself. That scared me. You scared me, but I'm no longer afraid. I just want to continue loving you as best I can."

"No one has ever cared enough to see that side of me. You never cease to amaze me, Alexander. I love you."  

"I love you too, Magnus."

Alec pulled him into a tight hug, a knock at the door reminded them of the food ordered. Magnus removed himself from Alec's embrace.  He watched as Magnus walked towards the door.  Alec was so lucky to have such a great boyfriend.  Magnus was sweet, caring, and so damn beautiful. He will spend the rest of his life being grateful for this relationship.

When Magnus made it back to the couch, he placed the bag of food on the coffee table and took his spot next to Alec. Alec could sense Magnus was nervous about something. After everything, they talked about how can Magnus still feel uncomfortable? Magnus knew he could tell him anything, right?

"Babe, what's wrong?" "I have something to ask you, and don't think I'm going to forget that you've used a pet name twice during this conversation."

Alec blushed, "Don't make a big deal out of it. The names felt right at the moment but don't expect it outside of your apartment. I'm only like this with you. What do you want to know?"

"Alexander, we talked about marriage and how real our feelings are. We are too new to adventure into marriage, but do you think you'd like to make my apartment, our apartment?"

"Are you crazy, Magnus? I'd love to move in with you, why were you scared to ask me?"

"I didn't want to scare you away. I know you are here most nights, but I want to have you here every night. It is getting hard to sleep without you and your adorable snores."

Alec tried to look annoyed but looking at the playful smile on his boyfriend's lips; he couldn't. He loved Magnus so much that he hoped he never has to be without him.  He reached towards the remote for the TV and asked,

"Is there anything you'd like to watch, Magnus? I promise I'll refrain from being moody."

"Eating Chinese food while watching something with my boyfriend. I might even get to cuddle. How mundane of you, Shadowhunter?"

Alec moved closer and kissed him on the cheek, "Doing mundane things aren't so bad when I get to do them with you."

"I know just the thing to watch. Have you heard of Star Trek? I think you'll enjoy it. Plus, one of the actors is gay.  George Takei.  And no, before you ask, I've never slept with him."  

"Whatever you want, babe."

Magnus giddily took the remote from him.  All Alec could do was smile. He spent so much of his life hating himself for things he couldn't control but being here with Magnus made every single moment worth it. Alec would go through it all again if it meant Magnus was his.  

As the Star Trek theme started to play it reminded Alec, they almost spent night arguing over a stupid television show. He almost got lost in his bitterness. Opening up is hard for him, but no matter how ridiculous the things that sparked his feelings were, he could always trust Magnus to listen. As Magnus handed him a container of fried rice, he knew this was where he was meant to be.

[shitizsrivastava]

TB# 5 || How to move in the direction of Film Direction to ensure maximum Success?

Dreams are over now and you are serious about becoming a film director.

So, let's be practical about everything.

Here, I will rather take a pragmatic approach than a mere bookish approach because I want you to become successful.

“Work hard and you will become successful” is true but highly cliched.

You can’t just keep working hard in any direction and it won’t take you anywhere. Working hard in the right direction is what is going to take you somewhere.

There are four ways in which you can approach the direction and become a Film Director.

They are not the only ways.

You can find your own way when you are there or you can discover some other ways too but overall some part of those ways will go through these ways only, I can assure you that.

I have figured out these ways based on my experience and talks with other directors and upcoming directors.

Here they are -

Point 1 — Become an assistant.

If you have any connection in Bollywood or Mumbai film fraternity, I would suggest that you should not waste even a minute doing anything else but join a big director as his assistant.

There is no better way than this.

I assume that if you already had such connections you wouldn’t be reading this article. So I won’t elaborate much on this.

I know many well-connected kids who joined Yashraj and Dharma films as they had god connections inside it.

These two production houses in Mumbai today are biggest promoters of nepotism right now.

But let me warn you, everything that appears gold is not gold.

None of the big production houses pays good and living cost in Mumbai is really very high.

Most of the assistants in Dharma and Yashraj comes in their expensive SUVs that even some of the actors don’t have.

Most of them are rich kids.

So, don’t be disillusioned that you can survive without any help if you will work in Yashraj and Dharma.

More than that if you don’t have money, you will never be accepted as a part of their community until you have a very extrovert personality.

Being born to a rich and privileged family comes handy in Mumbai.

These two production houses are the biggest name and brand in Mumbai and if you have worked even in one project in them than you will never find any dearth of money and work.

I worked for merely one day in Yashraj. They needed an assistant for just one day.

They had started another big budget movie and most Ads went there. There were only a few days of shoot left so they didn’t bother calling big assistants.

They needed interns and I got the job for one day.

Again, because I had a connection inside with someone I had worked in a film before.

Most of my job later came to me because I had Yashraj name in my resume.

Directors would read my resume and then would stop at the mention of Yashraj Films, then look at me, ask a few questions and I was in.

There is an assumption that if you work at Yashraj or Dharma than you are good and also rich. This is partly true actually.

There are Ads inside which are working there based on pure merit and they are very really good. I, however, don’t know any of them.

Most production houses have assistant directors and there is a word called “intern” which is mercilessly overused by them to make you work free for you.

My advice — Even if you get to work for free in a good production house, go for it.

An Important thing — It is not useful to work in just any film to make your resume.

The director and the stars in the film matter. If on one hand you have a film which has an arrogant director and huge stars and on the other hand is a film which has decent cast and an unknown director, go for the former one because that film in your resume will get you more work.

Tolerate them for some time and your life will be more sorted.

However, if you are new in the city and don’t have any work, just start doing whatever comes your way. After all, the beggars can’t be choosers.

There are no strict rules about choosing which film you must go with.

In India, people remember film names and you are praised to be part of it.

In the Mumbai film industry, Film does not matter, production house does.

The better the production, the better your resume. Even if you have worked in a major disaster like Thugs of Hindustan, it will help you more than working in the super hit film Badhai ho which does not have a backing of a big production house.

Now it does not matter under which circumstances you do what film or which project, just remember this thing — work hard and make great contacts because it is this and nothing else that will give you more work.

Don’t just make contacts with people on top like director, producer, Ads but make contacts with everyone on set.

You never know who can help you for whatever reason.

I once befriended a spot boy. He was working for the whole day and was very hungry. I took him to a restaurant nearby and treated him with sandwiches and tea. He was so thankful to me that later he called me for meetings and get me several works.

I once met Nawazuddin Siddiqui and I didn’t entertain him much because he looked like nothing, later he became a big celebrity.

Be nice to everyone. You never know who will become what in the future.

Point 2 — Direct your own film.

This is a tough option.

This is not an easy one and is only applicable to crazy ones out there.

But as Steve Jobs said -

One who is crazy enough to think that he can change the world will be the one who will change it.

However, people who are reading it, please don’t take this on ego.

This route has its own pros and cons and sometimes it backfires too.

It is also not a sure shot way to success. The entire process is very difficult if you don’t have money, connections and if you are a first timer.

You will face millions of obstacles, humiliation and resistance from all sides and none of it gives assurance that it can be a success.

To begin with, understand what kind of director you want to become.

Director of an independent low budget feature film does not win that much accolades in India as they win in other countries. India is not a place where you will be appreciated for your art. You instead be labelled as an “Art Film Director”.

Who came up with that name, no one knows but this nametag is a sign that your films do not make any money.

Only a commercial director gets easy money to make his next film.

There are people I have met in my life who had all the reasons for not doing something.

They won’t do anything but rant about how they don’t have any money and how they don’t have any resources to create something.

Those people will never be able to direct or do anything in life.

For directing an independent film, you need lots of guts, courage, patience and lots of persistence.

You have to collect an entire team of people who are willing to work for you literally cheap or for free and then start shooting your movie.

The first part of starting to make your own movie will start from faith. If you don’t have faith in your own film, no one else will come to help you out.

I went to a filmmaker once to ask him for some advice on my screenplay. At the end of the conversation, he asked me how sure I am about making this film.

I tried to give him a diplomatic answer and said 99%. I thought that this amount of surety is enough for making a movie.

He told me that my movie will never get made.

I asked him why and he said that the day I have 100% confidence in my script, only then it will get made and that day, I won’t have to make any efforts to make it.

That script is still lying in my drawer and never got made.

Point 3 — Join an ad agency.

This one is a really comfortable option and the coolest way to become a director however the route will take a long time.

Though one thing is sure, there won’t be any struggle and you will at least live a comfortable life.

This is something that is tried by hundreds of ad films directors in Mumbai. Only a few turn up to make films but even if you don’t, you won’t struggle and that’s for sure.

How does it work?

First, join an ad agency and start working there as a copywriter. If you are young and enthusiastic and ready to work for literally no money, there won’t be much problem you will face getting a job as a copywriter.

There is always an opening for a copywriter in ad agencies. The more the better.

If they say they don’t have a vacancy, then there are chances they don’t want to hire you or the company is going through a bad phase.

With time, escalate up in the agency and become a senior copywriter. Go to meetings, meet clients and increase your network over post-work parties.

Then someday shoot some film for some client who does not have enough budget to hire a production house. Voila, your career as a filmmaker starts.

This is how you make your showreel.

Then leave the agency and start your own production house. Since everyone in the agency knows you and other agency guys also know you (didn’t I tell you to mingle a lot with people).

Remember more the networking, better will be the results

Now start taking work from them and begin shooting your films.

The best part of ad filmmaking is that you don’t have to know anything about the direction to shoot an ad film.

Most of the ad film directors I have worked with don’t do much and don’t have any idea about how ad films are shot.

They rely heavily on the highly knowledgeable DOP who knows that a part of his job along with shooting the ad film will be to help the director in telling what shots need to be taken.

Hire a well-experienced Ad (Assistant Director) who can run the set and then relax behind the monitor.

Ad will take shots, DOP will shoot and you can comfortably take your name as the director because you know one thing that others on set don’t — How to deal with clients and get ad films from them.

But this is just halfway to the goal. This won’t take you far away.

After directing a lot of commercials and gathering a lot of money, begin writing the script for your feature film.

Since you have directed so many commercials it won’t be that difficult to find a producer for you.

Directing commercials also gives you contact with lots of actors knowing whom otherwise is a big advantage.

So, get your script ready, contact the actors, meet a financier and get going.

If that doesn’t work out, keep directing ad films. It is a nice money-making job.

Point 4 — Join a film school.

Now this is the safest option on the road. This is like doing engineering or MBA from a good school so that you can land up a job.

However, there is no other institute in India of the calibre of FTII and SFTII or Adyar Film Institute in Chennai which not just teaches you but also gives you ample contacts so that you never go without a job once you are in your respective film city.

I know people who have been jobless even after that doing a course from FTII, it was because they were terribly arrogant and felt that they are so great that the world owes them everything.

They end up getting frustrated and later die in oblivion cursing the film industry.

Joining film school is a wise decision no matter people say.

There are filmmakers who boast about never being to film school and did everything on their own.

Truth is, they most applied for the film school but didn’t get accept.

Behind every successful director who boasts about doing everything on his own, there are numerous directors who tried the same thing but just couldn’t make the cut.

Don’t be egoistic about going to film school.

If you get the chance to learn and master the art at a good film school, do it.

Don’t be a Tarantino follower who proudly says he didn’t go to a film school. Going to a film school is the best thing you can do for yourself.

But I would strictly advise against going to any private film school in India. They will charge you an exorbitant amount of fees, you won’t learn anything much there and later they won’t help you in getting any jobs.

Not that the government-funded institutes will help you in getting jobs but what government colleges have is culture, traditions and love for alma mater.

Lots of successful people in Film industry often roams the streets of FTII reminiscing their old days and meet young students, connect with them and when they come to Mumbai help them find their way by giving them work and place to live.

Private film schools don’t have that love for alma mater and if seniors ever come back on campus, they are paid to do that, they don’t come back for the love of institution.

—

These are four methods of entering inside the film industry and get success as a director.

I hope my advice will help you gain some perspective because at least now you will have some direction in which way to go and which way not to go.

[iamchrissi]

We leave only a mark

AroAce!Natasha for the world

“He's friends with a member of the World Security Council. You know, the guys who basically rule the world? Yeah, he's friends with one of them.” He looks at her, desire to impress and desire for sex written all over his face, and Natasha plays along, let's herself gasp as though she is excited about this. “I saw him once, after a meeting. Looked like a regular guy, white hair and all, but, you know... rules the world.”

He's also a member of Hydra, and probably recruited the CEO of Mikros Engineering into it, as well. Which explains at least some of the tech Hydra has, and why Michael Mikros doesn't seem afraid of AIM.

Natasha quickly leaves the party after that. She gives Mikros a fake phone number, bats her eye lashes a bit more, and resists the urge to roll her eyes as she feels his eyes on her ass. She doesn't really like jobs like this, job that rely on her sex appeal, but she doesn't hate them, either. She's good at them, good at making them see a woman for the night, and as long as they only see that, they don't see a spy. And it's easy, so, win win.

“You know, there's a queer cafe in town. I go there every now and then, I could take you too, if you wanted.” Laura says one day, walking a fussing Lila around while Natasha is trying to feed Coop some mashed potatoes.

“I... I don't know.” Natasha says. It's... not something she's ever thought about, really. Not about Laura being bi, the giant bi pride flag that decorated the wall being something of a tip off about that, but about... being out to strangers.

Natasha's body is a weapon, and her sex appeal is part of that. An important part. Once people know that she's not into sex... well, most of them either stop seeing her as human, or they want to fix her. As though being ace means she is broken.

“You don't have to, of course. But everyone knows you as Clint's sister anyway, so that wouldn't be a problem. And the people there are really nice. Clint's been there a few times, too. You could go with him, if you wanted.” Laura tells her, walking in a small circle now. Lila seems to calm down a bit.

“I... maybe. I think I'll... need time for that. But maybe.” Natasha says, trying to concentrate on Coop, and on getting the food into his mouth. It's more difficult than it seems, given that Coop doesn't really seem interested in eating.

“But thank you for offering.”

She used to wonder, if being ace was something that was done to her. If it's just another part of her that the Red Room broke. If, had she never been a Black Widow, she wouldn't be ace.

At some point, though, she decided it doesn't matter. It's part of who she is. Like that wry sense of humor that still surprises her sometimes, or the way she builds herself layer over layer, or the fact that it turns out she wants to believe in doing the right thing.

Natasha changes her hair, her name, sometimes even her eyes. She changes her accent and her nationality and her loyalty, but she can't change that. Being ace is part of her. She decides she's proud of it.

Stark gives them all rooms in his tower. Well, technically speaking, it's the Avengers Tower now, but Natasha doesn't think it well never not be Stark's. She's pretty sure everyone else knows it, too. Maybe Stark will realize that someday, maybe he won't.

“Look, I've got you everything you could ever need.” He says, pointing at her rooms. They are full of tasteful, expensive furniture, which means that it was definitively Pepper who got everything, not him. Natasha raises her eyebrow at him, and he sighs.

“Bed, wardrobe, bathroom, kitchen, books, weapons storage... hell, I even got you a fully stocked naughty cupboard. Condoms, Lube, whatever you need... I promise I won't ask about anyone you bring up here!” He points at a black cupboard. Natasha rolls her eyes.

“I won't use any of the stuff.” She says, stifling a sigh. The bed looks comfy, she will admit that. Not as nice as the bed she has at the farm, but she is willing to admit that that's probably down to the fact that the farm is home, and this will never be. She's biased. But this... this is Stark trying. So... it's not terrible.

“You're the hottest woman I know, of course you'll have the opportunity to use it. But, like I said, I won't ask. It's a rule. Pepper insisted. Any partners that are brought to the rooms are not talked about unless you bring it up.” Stark tells her, looking somewhat sincere.

“That's not...” Natasha starts, but then shakes her head. She's not in the mood to explain asexuality today, and really, she doesn't know Stark enough for that yet.

He doesn't seem to have heard her anyway.

The trainers taught them about sex. Mostly about how to use it to get what they want. How to seduce, and how to pretend to be seduced. How to fake attraction and desire, even when the target was disgusting. How to pretend to consider a ninety year old hot.

They didn't teach them about their own sexuality. It wasn't important. They weren't people to them, after all. Just weapons. Weapons don't have desires, Weapons simply function, or they don't function. Then they get fixed.

When she was a little girl, Natasha thought that desire was a male thing. That's what the teachers talked about, that men would want pretty girls, and that it was their duty to make them want them. That good little dancers could make anyone want them.

She was twelve when she was told about seducing women, and thirteen when she realized that Warwara wasn't just friends with Galina.

She wasn't sure what she thought about that. Maybe she was jealous, because they were so close. Because they trusted each other in a way nobody here did. Because they could trust each other like that.

Maybe she thought she was superior to them, not distracted by love like this. Not having to deal with feelings. Or loyalties to anyone but their trainers.

She thinks it was both. She's not proud of the latter, but at thirteen, being the best, the most focused, was still important to her. These days, she's just sad. She knows how they died, can still see Warwara curled around Galina, Galina's blood all over Warwara's hair, a knife sticking out of Warwara's back.

They were children. All of them. The trainers wanted to turn them into weapons, but they were children, too.

“Want to go on a date?” Maria asks, straight forward and precise as always. Natasha appreciates that. She can read innuendo, and implications, but she likes it when she doesn't have to. She likes it when things are clear.

“No. I'm aro ace.” She says. Direct and clear. No ambiguities or possibilities for misunderstandings. She knows that Maria likes it that way, too. Something about being the deputy director of a huge secret organization. Or possibly just something about Maria. Her friend nods.

“Okay. Want to be my wing woman?” Maria asks, and Natasha smiles.

“Sure.”

Clint and her teach themselves how to knit during a long, cold mission in Belarus. They are mostly waiting for their marks to make their move, and are stuck between hiding in their safe house and staking out the human traffickers.

They've been working together for three years by now, and Natasha's been to the farms a few times, enough that she feels almost as though she's part of Clint's family. Almost. She's an assassin after all, a Black Widow. THE Black Widow. She doesn't have a family.

They make scarves. It's the easiest pattern in the book they've brought, and they figure they can use them immediately.

“The blue will look cute on you.” Clint says, looking at the tangled mess in her lap. She picked out the color so carefully, but apparently, knitting takes more practice than she'd thought, because what she has so far just doesn't really look good.

“I actually thought about giving this one to Cooper, but the way it looks... probably the next one, instead.” She says, almost shyly. She's held Coop, has babysitted him, she knows that Clint trusts her with him, that he approves of her caring about his son, but it still feels... weird, to talk about Clint's family like this.

His eyes light up, and it makes Natasha feel warm inside. Wanted. Not sexually, not like all those men who ogle her whenever they have a chance, but as though Clint really wants her to be part of his family.

“He'd like that. Even if the scarf is a bit tangled.” Clint says, smiling genuinely, and Natasha knows that he means that he likes it, too. And that he is touched by the gesture. She smiles.

“And yours? Purple is definitively your color.” She teases. It's true. Clint has always had a thing about purple, though the shade he's using isn't really... him, somehow. Which is strange, because he wears all sorts of different shades of purple. It just doesn't feel right for him, she thinks.

“It's not for me.” He says, but refuses to elaborate.

When they leave, he hands her the scarf, and she realizes it's not only purple, but white, gray and black too, arranged like the ace pride flag. They've never talked about it, she'd never brought it up and he'd never asked. They don't talk about it now, either. But she grins, and he smiles, and that's enough.

“Are you lonely?” Nick asks. Natasha looks up from her book. The question is kind of out of the blue, really, especially given that Nick knows where and more importantly with whom she is going to spend Christmas.

“No. Why would I be?” She asks in return, fixing him with a searching look. Nick doesn't do personal questions, not really. Not usually. Not when he is most likely going to show up for Christmas, too.

“Do you...” He stops, shaking his head. It's awkward, and he knows it. “Do you want to date someone?” And, okay, this is not something Natasha ever thought she'd talk to Nick of all people about. She knows he cares, but dating? Really?

“Nope. I'm good. And ace.” She tells him, and he nods. He won't ask what that means. Whether he knows, or is just going to look it up later, she's not sure, but it's not like he'd say either way.

“Are you lonely?” Natasha asks. She doesn't think so, but if he's asking her... he doesn't have a girlfriend, or a boyfriend, either, as far as she knows. And Natasha knows a lot.

“To busy to be lonely. And I've got people.” He smiles, that rare smile that he reserves for her and Clint and Laura and the kids. She smiles, too.

It's Sam who drags them to the bar. He says something about doing normal people things, and about letting go, and Natasha thinks that it might be what counts as a bonding exercise for him.

She's not good with bonding stuff. She usually just... makes sure she can trust a person, and then... sort of acts as their friend until they catch up. Which usually takes ages. She thinks she's copying that from Clint. He'd essentially acted as though he was her brother more or less from the moment he had decided not to kill her.

Steve has caught up, finally. It took fighting Nazis to get there, but he's realized that their friends. And Sam is a friend too, sort of. She's looked him up, has memorized his file and picked up a lot through his reactions to things, but she doesn't really know him yet. So... bar.

It's an old bar, not ugly but with character. Two exits, Natasha notes, plus the way through the kitchen. A few people, but not too many. She can keep an eye on them, and the bartender. It's nice. And judging by the way Sam looks at her, he knows that that's what she would appreciate about this place. She allows herself to smile.

“Nice place.” She says, and Sam grins. Steve nods. His hair is a muddy brown, just like hers. She had insisted. No point in getting recognized as two Avengers and Falcon. Not when the fall of SHIELD is still so fresh in people's mind.

They order their drinks, talking about all sort of things, none that are important. The alcohol doesn't really affect Natasha, whether that's due to her being Russian or due to her being a Black Widow, she's doesn't know, but it doesn't matter. It doesn't affect Steve, either, and Sam is drinking a beer. It's... nice. Not like going out with Clint or Laura, or Maria or Coulson, but... nice.

“See those guys over there?” Sam asks after a while. “They're cute. And they've been staring at us for a while.” Steve looks over immediately, and Natasha sighs fondly. Subtly is not his strong suit.

“They look... nice?” He says. The question mark is obvious in his voice. Natasha chuckles. The group Sam is referring to is composed of three men and two women in their late twenties, all of them conventionally good looking.

“None of them catch your eye? Both of you could do with a distraction, you know.” Sam says, and Natasha knows he's teasing them, but she somehow answering honestly feels right, anyway.

“Nah.” She says, taking a sip of her drink, preparing herself for questions and judgemental idiots. “Not interested in sex.”

Steve stares at her. She wonders if she should explain things to him. She's not Stark, she knows that queer people didn't pop up in the last twenty years, but asexuality isn't commonly known even today, so...

“I'm asexual. It's a sexual orientation, like straight, gay or bisexual. It means I'm not sexually attracted to anyone. There are asexuals who like to have sex anyway, but I'm not one of them. Honestly speaking, I'm the cliché asexual. I prefer cake.” She explains, feeling slightly self conscious. Which is stupid. Steve doesn't do judgy about stuff like this, she knows that.

“I know what asexuality is, I looked it up when I woke up. I just... didn't realize I knew another asexual.” Steve says, and wow, Natasha had not expected this to be where this conversation was going.

“Wait, you're both ace?” Sam asks, looking genuinely interested, and maybe Laura is right and Natasha actually does have pretty good instincts when it comes to friends.

“Well, I'm demi. And biromantic. Or panromantic. Haven't really figured that part out, yet. But... definitively on the ace spectrum. I... I never knew anyone else that was on the ace spectrum, too.” He seems relieved to say it openly, and suddenly Natasha can't help but think of how all those conservatives thought that Steve was the perfect icon for the rich, white and straight. Oops.

“So... what you're telling me is that nobody here is straight. Nice.” Sam says, grinning at them. Natasha smiles. She's pretty sure he's been trying to flirt with both her and Steve since he met them, so...

“Bisexual?” She asks.

“And proud.” He says with a grin. Steve's grinning, too. Natasha smirks.

[thefictionlady]

Lessons in Love 2: Commencement - Chapter Thirty Seven

“I was thinking, maybe Jasmine and Aladdin or Danny and Sandy from Grease. Oooh! Or Daisy and Gatsby!” As I sat on the floor between Justin’s legs, I scrolled through Pinterest looking at couples’ Halloween costume ideas.  “We could do Greek mythology…like Zeus and Nemesis or Aphrodite, or one of his many other hoes…” “I wanna do something funny, though. Like Chazz Michael Michaels and Jimmy MacElroy,” he said as he lathered his hands with moisturizer. I rolled my eyes as Justin mentioned characters from one of his favorite comedies.  “This is my first Halloween in LA so I wanna be something cute or sexy, especially if we’re going to one of those big parties.”  Regardless of where we ended up going I knew I wanted to look dope. “We don’t have to do a couple’s costume. If you wanna do Blades of Glory, that’s fine.  I could be something else.” “But babe,” Justin whined as he ran his hands through a section of my hair, coating the freshly washed and oiled strands with the creamy moisturizer.  After begging me to teach him, Justin insisted on twisting my hair every once in a while.  Even though he wasn’t great at it, I appreciated the effort and it was nice to just feel his fingers running through my hair. I’d probably just end up wearing it up tomorrow anyway.  “This is our first Halloween as a couple,” he continued.  “We should do something together.” I couldn’t help my smile as Justin manipulated my hair into a two strand twist.  “Well we’ll have to compromise.  But I wanted to ask you something,” I said, changing the subject. “What do you think about having our families come for Thanksgiving?  I just think it’s time to get our families together.”  Justin and I have officially been together for just about nine months, but after everything we’ve been through over the last two years, it’s really felt like forever.  Bringing our families together just seemed long overdue. “I think that’s an awesome idea, baby.” Justin kissed my temple then continued with my hair.  We could have Chef Gina do a whole spread.” “Nah.  Thanksgiving should be cooked by hand by us… I dunno.  I’ll figure it out.”  Cooking is a big deal in my family, on both sides. We put our love into our cooking and we show we care with food.  I didn’t always subscribe to traditional gender roles and believed in balance, but cooking for Justin and our families also showed a level of responsibility that would impress them and put their worries at ease. “Who all do you wanna invite?” “My dad and maybe my grandma.  Jeremy and Patty, and the kids if it’s cool with their mom..  Just something small and intimate.  I think it’ll be nice.  Wait…” I paused.  “Do y’all Canadians even celebrate Thanksgiving?”  The thought hadn’t even occurred to me. “Of course we do.  Just not the same day.  It was a couple days ago, actually.” “What?!” I whipped around, pulling my hair from his hands.  “Why didn’t you say anything?  We could have done something nice.  J, I’m so sorry.” “Would you please sit still?”  Justin adjusted my shoulders so that my back was to him again.  “It’s not a big deal. I’ve been living in the US for so long that I just celebrate it in November now.” It’s weird to me that they even celebrate Thanksgiving in October.  “What do you eat?  In my head I’m picturing Tim Horton’s and poutine.” Justin yanked on my hair.  “Shut up,” he said with a chuckle.  “Obviously we eat turkey…and drink maple syrup.  We’re Canadian, eh.”

Halloween I only went trick-or-treating a few times as a kid.  My mom was never a fan of Halloween so she never wanted to take me.  On the off chance that my begging would work, I’d go with Drea and her mom.  So I was probably a little too excited to go when Justin told me his siblings were coming and we’d get to take them out.  Not wanting to miss out on my goddaughter’s first Halloween either, I had Drea, Aaliyah, and Dougie flown in for the weekend. The four of us and the three kids got dressed up and set out to collect candy in The Oaks.  Even though I drive in and out of this neighborhood every day, I felt like I was seeing these homes for the first time as we walked up to each one. Every home in The Estates at The Oaks was different, customized to the tastes of the owners.  Grand in both size and style, each home spanned nearly a block. They were so spread apart that it took a minute or two to walk to each one.  Despite there only being a few homes in this Calabasas community, I wasn’t sure if we were going to make it to each one. The kids had elaborate costumes, totally outdoing the adults.  “Spin around and let me see your Elsa costume,” Drea said to Jazmyn.  The little girl twirled in her sparkling blue dress, so excited to finally be dressed as the Disney ice princess.  Her younger brother ran up and down sidewalk, flapping his Batman cape as if he could fly.  Dougie pulled Aaliyah in a wagon and she looked absolutely adorable in her cute little strawberry costume.  In keeping with the fruit theme Drea donned a ridiculous banana suit and Dougie was dressed as a pineapple.  “We’re a fruit basket,” Dougie had said when they’d all emerged rom their guest room ready to take pictures. Despite the outlandishly large mansions, the families at each one gave out a handful of candy just like in any other neighborhood.  “I half expected them to be giving out iPhones or silver spoons,” Drea said with a laugh. “Girl, me too,” I said, adjusting my cat ears. The adults were saving their fancy costumes for the big Halloween party tomorrow night.  Justin just threw on a plaid shirt and a cowboy hat, all things that he already owned, and called himself a sheriff. “I can’t wait for us to be able to do family costumes like y’all,” I mused, mostly to myself.  I couldn’t help but be a little jealous of all the parents and their kids dressed in adorable themes, hoping one day I’d be among them with kids of my own. “Have you been thinking about having kids again?” “No, not really.  I mean, sorta.  I dunno,” I shrugged.  “Every time I see Justin around children my ovaries start freaking the fuck out,” I whispered.  Justin and Dougie had taken the kids up to knock on the next door while Andrea and I stayed on the sidewalk, out of hearing distance.  “I obviously want kids someday.  Justin and I are nowhere near ready to even have this conversation. We’re just trying to make it into the next week, but I just can’t help the baby fever I get every now and then.”   Our relationship is so tumultuous and unpredictable, but I looked forward to growing with him.  No matter what we go through, we’re always improving for the better.  But I’m not focused on the future.  “I am enjoying it just being the two of us, learning more about each other and strengthening who we are as a couple.  It’s just, my clock is ticking and…you know what? I sound like an idiot.  Let me stop.” “You’re not an idiot,” my best friend said as the guys walked back down with the kids.   “I think it’s normal to think about kids.  But you’ve got plenty of time.” “Babe!” Justin hollered, eyes wide, holding onto Jaxon’s candy bucket as he ran down the walkway.  “The lady gave out full sized candy bars!  Like the big ones!  We should have gotten our own bags…”  He held up a large Snickers.  “See!?” Jaxon glared at his older brother with his little hands on his hips.  “That’s my candy!” “We can share, buddy.” “My kid can’t even eat candy yet so this is all mine,” Dougie bragged. “Bro, you got like two giant Snickers!” Justin tried to peek into Aaliyah’s bucket.  “It’s not fair that all the babies get all the best candy and they don’t even have teeth.” I shook my head silently as Drea gave me a knowing glance and Justin and Dougie negotiated a candy trade deal.  With a sigh I smiled to myself.  We have our hands full with two big ass kids already. By the time we got back to the house, Jax and Jazzy were bouncing off the walls having already eaten what looks like pounds of candy.  We all should have known better than to let them eat so much of it but we weren’t paying attention until it was too late. Now they are running around like psychos, screaming because we took their candy away and keeping the baby awake who is now hollering too.  I swear this has to be a record for going from angelic to demonic in 0.2 seconds. “That’s not fair!” Jazzy kept screaming with tears streaming down her face as if the world had ended.  Jaxon was no better, throwing a fit and kicking Justin in the shins as he pried the candy bucket out of his little angry hands. Since the guys were in charge of the monitoring the candy, it was their job to get all of them to calm down and into bed. As I rubbed my temples, I plopped down on the couch next to my best friend who’d already poured each of us a glass of whiskey.  She’s smart.  Wine just wasn’t going to cut it. “Still want those kids right now?” she asked with a smirk. “Nah, I think I’m good for a while.” There was no better birth control than some loud misbehaving kids.

JPOV When we pulled up to the house I paused before turning to my mom in the back of the SUV.  “She’s a little stressed today, so just be chill, okay?”  My mom could have driven herself to my place but I figured she’d appreciate being picked up for the fancy Thanksgiving dinner we’re having. Despite everything I’d said, Yadira insisted on doing everything herself rather than letting me hire a chef.  I just figured it’d be nice to spend time with your family instead of slaving away in the kitchen.  But what do I know? And of course she’s been freaking out all weak. From a chaotic paparazzi filled trip to the grocery store to a gridlocked trip to the airport, things have been quite stressful for her.  Everyone knows that stress can take its toll on her.  Fortunately, once her dad was in town she seemed to be a little more at ease, but the pressure of our parents meeting for the first time was freaking her out again. “I’m chill,” my mom scoffed, trying way too hard to be cool.  Things between them were civil, even friendly now, but I know the both of them were still a little on edge in each other’s presence. With a roll of my eyes I left the car and my mom followed.  As soon as I opened the door I could smell the food.  Yadira’s been at it all day.  “Pattie!” she exclaimed as she came around the corner.  “It’s so good to see you!”  She pulled my mom into a hug with a big smile. “Likewise! And that dress is so pretty,” my mom replied.  Yadira twirled around in her orange DVF dress.  Even though I told her that she didn’t need to get dressed up, she insisted and forced me to dress up too.  I just threw on a grey sweater and some dark jeans that didn’t have any holes in them, you know, the dressy kind.  But I shouldn’t complain.  She looks cute in her little homemaker dress or whatever. “Babe, you need anything?” I asked, already knowing her answer. “Don’t worry.  Just spend some time with your mom. Dinner is almost ready.”  She scurried away and left me and my mom standing in the foyer. “Wow, this is just so…beautiful,” my mom said as we walked by the dining room all the glasses, plates and silverware (bought by Yadira specifically for this occasion) were set nicely around an elaborate centerpiece. “I actually helped with this part,” I said proudly. Our dads were watching football in the den with kids messing around in the corner.  My dad wasn’t really big into football, but he seemed to be having fun with Carmello.  To be honest, I was nervous about them meeting.  They’re just so…different. But so far so good. As we approached Yadira’s dad stood off the couch, followed by my dad.  Carmello towered over my mom, more than most people did, making her seem childlike next to him. “Mr. Bernard, this is my mom, Pattie.”   With his giant hands and long arms, he reached out to pull my mother into a hug. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Both of you.” Our parents settled on the couch discussing boring shit like the weather and traffic in LA.  “Are you enjoying Los Angeles?”  Yadira’s dad came a few days ago to spend some time with his daughter and explore the city. “I’m loving the weather.  It’s a nice break from the cold.”   Boredom swept over me and I felt my eyeballs glazing over. When they were too deep into a conversation about the difference between Canadian and American Thanksgiving traditions, I slipped away into the kitchen to check on my girl.  She’d managed to refuse help from everyone all day except her grandmother who was making some sort of salad off to the side. “Justin, please go sit!” Yadira waved me off, stirring something on stove. “Let me help,” I said, noting the stress on her face. “No!” she snapped.  “You need to mingle with our parents.” I dunno why she kept thinking we couldn’t leave them alone or something.  “They’ll be fine. They can entertain themselves.”  Even if she didn’t want my help, I was happy to just stand in the kitchen inhaling all the mouth-watering smells.  “Oh my God, I’m starving!”  The words tumbled out of my mouth with a growl as if spoken by my stomach.  Driven by hunger, I tore off a corner of a cornbread muffin and shoved it into my mouth. “Fuck, Justin! Stop!” At first she caught me off guard, but I knew better than to take it personally. Since meeting Ya, I’ve learned that anxiety comes in many forms.  Even my own.  Sometimes getting upset was how she coped. Her grandma Ella, on the other hand, wasn’t as understanding. “Enough, Yadira! You’ve been rude and bratty all afternoon.” It’s true.  Our morning started out fine, but as the cooking went on Yadira became stressed and her attitude began to show. “This is why I didn’t want anyone in here with me,” she grumbled not so softly under her breath. “Relax, babe!” I intervened, trying to prevent a fight.  Under normal circumstances, Yadira would never speak to her grandmother with that tone so I knew she must be feeling like she was under a lot of pressure. “It’s not that serious. It’s just food.” She scoffed. “I didn’t ask for either of you to—ow, shit!”  As she was chopping onions she sliced right into her finger.  As her eyes filled with tears, her grandma rushed over with a paper towel. “I’ve got it, Miss Ella,” I said, wrapping my arms around Yadira’s shoulders.  “Let’s get you a band aid.”  I could tell she was trying so hard not to let the water in her eyes spill over onto her cheeks and I could tell those tears were for much more than just the pain from her cut. When we got to the guest bathroom, I closed the door behind us before rummaging under the sink for the first aid kit. “I don’t have time for this,” she mumbled with a sniffle.  “The macaroni and cheese is going to burn.” Paying her worry no mind, I found the kit and pat the edge of the counter for her to sit down.  “I’m sure your grandma’s got it under control. Chill.” Yadira’s wound was bleeding through the paper towel and was probably going to need much more than a band aid. “Besides,” I continued.  “That cut looks worse that I think you realize. Rinse your finger.” With a frown, she followed my order while I looked through the kit for the necessary supplies to tend to my wounded lady. “Is there blood on my dress?”  She looked down at her dress frantically while keeping her I injured hand under the faucet. “Your dress is fine.  You look great.  Come, sit back down.”  I gave her some tissues as she moved to sit back on top of the bathroom counter. “Now you wanna tell me what’s going on?” Though knowing her and her neurotic tendencies when she was stressed, I think I already had a good idea. “Nothing is going on,” she snapped. “Maybe you’ve forgotten how well I know you…” With a raised eyebrow, I threw out the tissues and dressed her cut with some Neosporin.  The bleeding was down to a minimum now but I could tell by the way she winced when I touched it that it still hurt. With a roll of her teary eyes and a sigh, Yadira leaned back against the bathroom mirror.  “You know, sue me for trying to make our first Thanksgiving together special.” “It already is special, babe,” I said, giving her some gauze to hold against her wound.  “Not only is it our first Thanksgiving together, but it’s the first time our families are getting together.  That’s huge.” “Exactly!” she said exasperatedly as I wrapped a bandage around the tip of her finger.  This was going to complicate using her hands in the kitchen, but she was just going to have to deal.  “I just want it to be perfect.” “Then why do you keep snapping at people who are only trying to help you?”  After all of her effort, things were about as perfect as they were going to get.  The significance of today didn’t excuse her attitude.  And she knew it. There was guilt written all over her face as she tried not to cry.  I felt guilty too, watching her get so upset and put so much stress and pressure on herself.  But enabling her helped no one.  We worked so well together because we called each other out on our shit.  Tears weren’t going to change that. “I’m just trying to prove that we could do this.  Be a normal, healthy, functioning couple.  Everyone out there had their doubts about us being together.  They doubted my decision to be with you. Your family, my family, and at times even we did.   Pulling off the perfect Thanksgiving seemed like the best way to prove everyone wrong. To prove to your mom that I can take care of you and to prove to my dad that we’ve got it together.”  She looked down at her hands, picking at the new bandage.  “I realize how stupid that sounds now that I say it out loud.” It bothered me that she was carrying around this burden of proof, as if executing the perfect Thanksgiving dinner and painting this image of the perfect family, was some act of redemption. Our being together is not a sin and nothing we could do will ever erase our messy history or complicated past. And I would never want to.  It’s part of who we are and what makes our relationship so strong. “We do not owe anyone anything.  We do not need to prove anything to anyone.  Nothing anyone says is ever going to change what we have between us, family or not.  And I think our families know and respect that now, and if they don’t, fuck ‘em.” She sighed heavily and nodded.  “I know that.  I think I was just getting in my own head.” “You gotta quit doing that, baby girl.  You’re stressing yourself out which sometimes stresses me out.  So can you relax for me, please?”  I wrapped my arms around her waist and looked down at her.  “Everyone is already impressed with everything you’ve done.  Just try to relax and have some fun.”  When we look back on our first major holiday together, I want us to remember how much fun we had with our families, not what color napkin rings she used. I brought her bandaged finger up to my lips and gave it a tiny kiss.  “Are you chill now?” I asked, noting the tension that remained on her face.  So stubborn.  “Or am I going to have to resort to other methods?” “What other methods?” she scoffed. I was hoping she’d ask. I leaned forward, caging her in with either hand pressed against the glass.  Since her dad has been in town, she’s been paranoid about him catching us in the act even though he’s sleeping in bedroom on the other side of the house. It was crazy to me how this girl wasn’t shy about getting freaky in public but the minute her father shows up it’s a totally different story. “Don’t kiss me,” she said, putting her hand on my chest.  “I don’t want my makeup to get messed up.” “Don’t worry,” I said as my lips pulled into a wide smile.  “The lips I plan on kissing don’t have any lipstick on them.”  I dropped to my knees and spread her legs apart.  Yadira attempted to stop me by smushing her hand in my face and pressing her thighs together. “Don’t.  Our families are on the other side of that door.  If my father hears us, he’ll murder you and make your parents watch.” “Then if you value my life at all, I suggest you stay quiet.” I pleaded with her, giving her my best pouty face.  I just wanted to taste her and watch as the stress left her body.  “I just want to make you feel good, baby.” My girlfriend looked down at me then toward the door before looking back at me.  She was silent for a moment, as if weighing her options in her head.  Without a word she spread her thighs apart again, the uncertainty in her eyes quickly replaced with wanting anticipation. I accepted this as an invitation to curl my fingers around her panties and slide them down her legs and over her heeled sandals, tucking them discreetly into my back pocket.  Leaving her feet in her pretty pumps, I kissed her ankle just above the strap of her shoe.  My kisses didn’t cease as they traveled up her leg to her inner thigh where I bit into the fleshiest part of her body. Yadira’s gasp was subtle as she leaned back into the mirror.  “You must have a death wish, Bieber.” “Well if I’m going to die today, I’d better make it count.”  And I couldn’t have asked for a better ‘last meal’. Hooking my hands under her knees, I pulled her toward me so her but rested on the edge of the counter.  I was careful not to wrinkle her dress as I pushed her thighs back and even further apart so she was nice and open for me to taste.  My tongue swept over her pussy quickly, lapping at the moisture that’d already gathered there.  When my lips touched her again, I lingered, sliding my tongue between her folds, licking from her center to her clit. Yadira stifled a groan as she gripped the edge of the counter.  I worked my tongue skillfully against her skin, burying my face into her sex, coating my nose, lips, and chin in her arousal.  Like a starving animal, I devoured her, my hunger for her insatiable. Sweat misted my forehead and a faint ache formed in my jaw, but I wanted more.  As I wrapped my lips around her clit, Yadira shoved her fingers into my hair, crying out as she pulled on the strands.  I growled against her before sucking the button of nerves firmly into my mouth. “Fuck!” Her head fell back against the mirror with a soft thud and she grit her teeth, trying not to make any more noise. If I hadn’t been so focused on making her come, I would have laughed at her failed attempts to stifle the involuntary sounds she was making without touching her face or disturbing her makeup. But I was determined to give her an orgasm that made her forget her own name. My tongue teased her with torturously slow strokes, speeding up only to slow back down just before she reached her climax. I did this over and over again until her thighs were trembling in my grip. “Justin, please,” she begged with a loud moan, not even trying to stay quiet now.  I plunged my tongue deep inside her and her pussy twitched and throbbed around it, causing my dick to harden.  Confident that she was right where I wanted her, I sucked hard on her clit, drawing a violent orgasm out of her.  Her whole body jerked against the mirror and she tried to pull her hips back but I held her tight against my face and tongue.  A slew of incomprehensible phrases toppled randomly from her lips. Then her body stilled, tensing up before releasing into a fit of jerks and shakes.  Her mouth hung open as a second orgasm rolled over her. Her skin was hot in my hands and against my face and I could feel the heat radiating from her even as I pulled away. Suddenly her grip on the counter loosened and she slumped back onto the glass.  When I let go of her thighs they dangled over the edge of the counter like a lifeless ragdoll.   “Still thinking about that mac and cheese?” Yadira just hummed in response, not bothering to formulate and coherent words.  Mission accomplished. While she sat there catching her breath, I attempted to help her sit up but she swatted my hands away.  “Don’t touch me yet.  I feel like I might shatter into a million pieces.” I gave her a minute to cool down before we cleaned ourselves up and fixed the bathroom as if it’d never been disturbed. “Come here and let me fix your hair” I glanced in the mirror and saw the hot mess she left on top of my head. “Sorry,” she mumbled as she attempted to smooth my hair back into place. “You’re not sorry,” I scoffed.  I wouldn’t be either. “For fucking up you’re hair? You’re right, I’m not. Besides, you kinda brought that on yourself.  But I am sorry for acting crazy.” She grabbed my jaw and pecked me quickly on the lips.  “Even though I worry about stupid shit, act out when I am stressed, and behave like an asshole, you still spoil me with earth shattering sex.” “My only plan was to get you to chill the fuck out.” She smiled lazily.  “Well your plan might backfire.  I am so chill I might fall asleep at the stove and burn the house down.” Her eyelids were heavy as she reached to unlock the bathroom door. “That’s only if your dad doesn’t kill us first, loud mouth.”  That was my fault too, but she wouldn’t dare complain.  Though I was proud of my work (I can literally feel my ego and man-pride swelling, or maybe that’s just my unrelieved dick trapped in my pants), I’d be like if I said I wasn’t afraid to face her father.  I didn’t know Carmelo well, but I knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t take too kindly to hearing his little girl having sex right under his nose, even if we were in our own house. We tiptoed out of the bathroom and back to the kitchen where Ella was still hovering over the stove. “Don’t worry,” she said casually with her back still turned to us. Everyone went outside.  No one heard you…except me.”

[robertkstone]

Celebrity Drive: Glen Plake of HISTORY’s ‘Truck Night in America’

Quick Stats: Glen Plake, host, HISTORY’s “Truck Night in America” Daily Driver: 2002 Ford F-350 (Glen’s rating: 9 on a scale of 1 to 10) Other cars: see below Favorite road trip: Mexico Car he learned to drive in: 1940s Jeep CJ First car bought: 1959 Chevy pickup

Skiing icon Glen Plake has long participated in races in Baja, at his local race track, and worked on his cars. Now he brings his car skills to the HISTORY channel’s “Truck Night in America,” where contestants build out their trucks for different challenges.

“I have so many daily drivers,” he says, with a laugh. “I probably have one of 10 different vehicles that I can drive at a given time.”

Photo: HISTORY

Plake owns various trucks and Jeeps as well as cars. His latest and most prized possession of all is also his first vehicle—a 1959 Chevy pickup—and it’s one he’ll be working on as soon as he can find some free time. After Plake let go of the truck, he immediately regretted it. But in a moment of serendipity, his beloved, worn-out Chevy with old bike racing stickers all over the interior popped up in an ad, just as he was once again lamenting he had sold it 15 years earlier.

“I just happened to be sitting on this airplane and I was reminiscing going, ‘Man I wish I had my old ’59, gosh dang it, I miss it. I can’t believe I let that thing go.’ And then boom, this ad pops up and I see these stickers and it was like, ‘Are you kidding me?’ It was pretty funny when I told my wife, ‘You won’t believe what I just happened to find on Craigslist. She goes, ‘What?’ I showed her the picture, she’s like, ‘What time are we leaving?’ I’m like, ‘We’re going right now,’” he says, laughing.

It was only when he saw the stickers that Plake realized it was indeed his truck, because it was a completely different color and not in the same shape he left it.

“The guy took pictures of the interior and I had old bicycle racing stickers in it that are very, very particular and the ad said, ‘’59 Chevy pickup. Might need some help. Interior covered with unique stickers. Will make good rat rod,’” he says.

Plake also still had the pink slip because he says the guy he sold it to paid him $200 and was supposed to pay another $200 and never did. “He disappeared and I was like, ‘Dang, I shoulda never sold that truck.’ It was sitting behind the barn for years and he kept bothering me,” he says, with a laugh. “When I was younger I really loved those old square Chevys,” he says. “It was just an old farm truck and still is. A year or two after I let it go, I started seeing the whole rat rod restoration happening. I was like, ‘Are you kidding me?’”

When he met with the seller and had the truck loaded on a trailer, he had told the seller more about the truck’s history.

Photo courtesy of Glen Plake

Plake told him the story about how it was his truck that he had since he was 14. “This is the pink slip, so I should have no problem registering it,” he says. “He couldn’t believe his eyes. I said, ‘Here’s the deal, my grandfather bought that from Santa Rita [jail] at an auction, we drove it around as an irrigation truck for years and then I got it.’ He was like, ‘No way! Really?’”

The owners after Plake left the old Italian bicycle racing stickers he and his friends put in there.

“That’s what tied me to the ad. That’s what got me looking at the dang thing to begin with. I was in Seattle and I happened to be checking Northern California, I don’t know how it popped up but it did,” Plake says. “When I told him the story, it was funny, he wanted a lot more for it, and then he was like, ‘Alright screw it, get it out of here!’ He was a car guy and he’s like, ‘I knew there was something going on! I would never sell this truck for as low as I did! I knew I had to sell this thing to you!’”

Plake plans to put an S10 chassis underneath it so that it can once again be a daily driver.

He’s got many memories with this truck, including the time he lost a tire and the trailer jackknifed. “I used to be big a wind surfer, so I chased wind all around the western United States in that stupid old truck. Out to Palm Springs, down to Mexico, back up to Nevada.”

Plake already has a donor truck ready for the chassis swap. “I’m not going to do nothing to it, it’ll look exactly the same, except I’m going to have new running gear on it. It’ll be the third S10 swap with some friends, we’ve done a couple of ‘51’s, another friend did it with a 1942 bread van,” he says. “It’s really simple.”

Plake is pretty stoked when he’s around his old truck, and also remembers the time he had to replace the front windshield. “I got shot at in that truck,” he says, with a laugh. “Being a kid and all of a sudden, bam! We’re in a bad neighborhood. The shot went right through the front windshield.”

2002 Ford F-350

Rating: 9

Photo courtesy of Glen Plake

Plake considers this F-350 his old workhorse. “I got it because a family member passed away and I ended up with it,” he says. “I don’t have any new vehicles and never have.”

His favorite car is one that isn’t street legal—his 2013 IMCA dirt modified track car, which he sometimes takes to his local track.

1986 Chevy C30

Rating: 10

“It very rarely drives without a trailer or massive load behind it or in it,” Plake says. “If I’m just hauling around bicycles you don’t need a one ton truck, but if we’re hauling race cars to the track, then you need a big truck. I don’t believe you should be driving a big truck around just to go to the store, I never could figure that out but people do.”

Plake purchased this truck used and had a custom race trailer built to match it. “Now it’s just so strange to be driving something like that in today’s modern world, people look at you funny. It’s pretty classic now,” he says.

1960 Chevy Impala SS

Rating: 10

Photo courtesy of Glen Plake

Plake got the Impala as payment for a sponsorship years ago. “Nothing more styling than a ‘60 Impala,” Plake says. “I love that there’s not a lot of ‘60s Impalas. If you go to a car show, it’s not like another dang blue Camaro, or another stupid Mustang.”

He says when he drives it, it’s the only one of its kind on the road. “[Many were] crushed or considered something not to save and yet they’re just absolutely beautiful. You sit and stare at the thing forever,” he says.

Plake especially loves this model year. “They’re just beautiful, the lines are so good, with the big horizontal fins on them,” he says. “Just to look back to think that that body was changed every year, and that those stamps were changed every year. It freaks me out, the whole dash is a stamped piece of steel. I can’t believe that was changed on a yearly basis.”

1964 Cadillac limousine

Rating: 1

Photo courtesy of Glen Plake

Even though Plake was blessed to somehow be reunited with his first car, his friend who once owned this Cadillac isn’t as lucky.

“It’s part of the family, we’ve had it forever and ever and ever. It was a friend of mine’s first car, and over the course of many years and different engines and different things, I ended up with it. To this day, he’s still so mad I have his first car and I won’t sell it to him even though it’s not worth very much, I specifically keep it just to bother him,” he says, laughing. “Someday I’ll give it back to him.”

1994 Buick Roadmaster

Rating: 8

Photo courtesy of Glen Plake

The Roadmaster was Plake’s grandfather’s last car, and one he didn’t have to buy at an auction. “When he passed away, my grandmother had it, and I knew what it was. I said, ‘Don’t dare take that thing to a car dealership,’” he says.

Plake found out how nice it was when he and his wife were driving his pickup down to Los Angeles for a day and his grandfather suggested he try the Buick instead.

“As we were driving along on I-5 minding our own business, somebody came up to us in a tuner-type car with a big spoiler on the back making a bunch of noise and he jumped up on it … and I went, ‘Well, the Roadmaster’s got some pretty long legs, I’m going to jump on it.’ The car took off and went pretty good and then we continued to enjoy the ride and when I got back, I said, ‘That’s an interesting car, grandpa.’”

His grandfather used to get a Buick every two years. “It was the last of the Roadmasters, so it had the LT1 in it, which is the virtually the Vette motor, dual stainless exhausts from the factory,” he says.

When he’s in the Buick, for Plake it’s like floating on a cloud. “I wish the suspension was a little firmer. It’s pretty soft,” he says.

When Plake is in Europe, where he lives half the year, he drives a 2002 Mercedes Benz. “[In Europe], I’m dealing with speed limits that are above what we drive, and typically I’m driving on an auto route that requires quite a lot of attention. In the U.S. it’s funny, our speed limits are low, so I just drive along from that standpoint,” he says.

That’s why Plake loves the Buick for these American roads. “It corners terrible, but where is there a corner in the western United States? It’s all straight roads and you can’t go that fast on them,” he says. “So I don’t mind sitting in a 1994 Buick just cruising along. I don’t need some elaborate vehicle. I never could figure out supercars. What are you going to do with the dang thing? They’re expensive and then they get really expensive if you have to go out and drive them, if you do somehow get some track time, God forbid you wad the thing up. I’m not a real sophisticated vehicle driver by any means.”

Car he learned to drive in

Although he grew up in the Lake Tahoe area, Plake learned how to drive an old 1940s Jeep CJ at 7 years old at his grandfather’s Central Valley farm that grew sugar beets and alfalfa, where he spent his summers.

He used to help his grandfather drive the old Jeep around, and later drove tractors. He also had a go kart when he was young.

Photo courtesy of Glen Plake

“Every time I’d get on one of the farm roads, grandpa would let me drive. It was an old surplus Jeep—I think it was an old 2A,” he says. “It was what we used to tow the irrigation hoses with. You have all the siphon hoses to go from the ditch into the field, and they’d have this long trailer with all the irrigation hoses in it, pipes in it and he’d put it in first gear, the thing had twin sticks so you’d basically drive itself, and he’d sit me in the seat.”

All Plake had to do was steer straight. “We didn’t really drive around too much, we’re talking big agriculture, fields are four miles long and I’d be driving along. He’d always let me drive his Ford pickup truck, too, if I had to go to some field. My grandpa said if you want a truck for work, you buy a Ford, if you to drive a truck to work you buy a Chevy,” he says, laughing.

Favorite road trip

Plake has a perfect drive in Europe. “I took a dream drive—a friend’s got an old Alfa Romeo that I got to drive around in Europe one summer. I got to drive over Great St. Bernard Pass in a ’72 Alfa Romeo, the tires are squealing and you’re only doing 30,” he says, laughing.

Plake has done Baja races including the Baja 500 and 1000, but he also loves the many road trips he’s done down to Mexico for fun.

“I love driving down in Baja, I just love it,” Plake says. “Whether it’s for a race or driving to go visit my dad, we have a house down there for fishing. A lot of memories down there.”

“Anytime I’m on those old roads, and I’ve seen the roads go from dirt and what used to take two days, now we’re doing it in about six hours, I’ve just seen the transformation take place,” he says, adding that the scenery is great. “You’ve got ocean on one side, desert on another, up over the hills,” he says. “I’m from the Great Basin, so it’s nice to see the different cactuses, they’re quite beautiful.”

Photo courtesy of Glen Plake

Plake is usually in an older model car, so it’s not got the distractions of today’s models. “We’ve got air conditioning and that’s nice. The old pickup has 265 air—two windows down going 65,” he says, laughing. “I’ve got a half ton Chevy I drive there a lot or I drive the big F-350, if I’m hauling a boat. If I’m going to be in a vehicle, I like the vehicle itself, I don’t need all the amenities. Tomorrow I’m going to drive a Jeep up to the ranch. It’s a 2000 Jeep, yeah the radio sucks and it rattles.”

Going to Mexico very much represents just focusing on the drive. “You’re checking gauges, you’re making sure there’s air in your tires, you’re driving, you’re in command of a vehicle. Most people don’t realize how special that really is,” Plake says. “I’m definitely reflective in the ride, you might play the Mexican radio, or you might want to plug in the iPhone, but for the most part I’m definitely taking in the drive. If there’s a common theme about most of my vehicles—you can sleep in them.”

His usual road trip to Mexico gets him to the border by 1 a.m. and he sleeps in the car for a few hours and then takes off early the next morning.

HISTORY Channel’s “Truck Night in America”

Plake has an extensive racing resume, which include races in Baja, the Dakar Rally, and local weekly stock car racing. “I love it very much … I build my own cars and I work on all my motors,” he says. “I’m just as happy sitting and watching a bomber race at my local race track as I am sitting on the pit wall with Wood brothers at a NASCAR race.”

A friend referred him to try out for the hosting gig, which he shares with fellow expert coaches Pete Sohren, Abe Wine, and Rob Park. “We started kicking tires and having some shop talk. Most people don’t realize I was born with a wrench in my hand, helping my grandparents,” he says.

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