#someone who thinks they’re drunk when drinking apple juice

[yesneverno]

Why is there a persons reference in my hsr

[softprettything]

late bloomer, ch 7

AO3 | Previous | Next

Fandom: OHSHC

Pairing: Kyoya/Reader

Tags: 18+, A/B/O Dynamics, College AU, Fake Dating, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slice of Life, Eventual Smut

Summary: Nobody ever said falling in love with your best friend would be easy.

Taglist (new!): @silverhetdanes @lampalooza

late bloomer, ch 7

“There’s my girl,” Kaoru crows as soon as he spots you. At a look from Hikaru, he amends, “Our girl,” and pulls you into a hug. Low in your ear, he says, “Not Haruhi’s, but…”

You push away. “If you’re going to be a dick, I’ll just head home.”

“Noooo,” he whines.

“Ignore him, (Y/N).” Hikaru pops around your other shoulder. “He was three shots in before he even reached the pregame.”

“Yeah, which means she has some catching up to do!” Kaoru offers the red solo cup currently in his hand, full of whatever godawful concoction the Thetas have thrown together this time.

You shake your head, and he pouts at you. “You know my rule.”

“Never drink the jungle juice,” the three of you say in tandem.

Kaoru rolls his eyes, but takes the cup back, at least, knocking back most of its contents in one gulp. You can’t help but wince. Kaoru’s always had the strongest capacity for liquor of anyone you know, which makes you incredibly concerned for his health past graduation. “Spoken like someone who’s never really lived,” he says.

“Spoken like someone who wants to have a working liver when I’m thirty.”

“There’s some canned drinks in the kitchen, I think.” Hikaru says. “Want us to show you?”

“Nah, you can stay here. I’ll be right back.”

You push through the dark and sweaty room and are relieved to make it to the kitchen, which isn’t quite empty but is at least marginally less crowded. You pop open a watermelon seltzer and try to breathe.

“You sure that’s a good idea?”

You almost jump at the sound of his voice. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Kyoya says. He’s leaning against the counter, looking relatively casual in a sweater and slacks. Not exactly frat-party attire, but at least it’s a departure from the suit. “You know overconsumption of alcohol can lead to fainting.”

You roll your eyes, and take a sip of your drink for good measure. A few sips. If Kyoya Ootori is going to try and engage you in some section-asshole-pedantry in the middle of a Theta party, you’d like to be as drunk as humanly possible. “I appreciate the concern, but I doubt one White Claw every three months is going to make me blackout.”

“You don’t drink a lot, then.”

“Are you surprised?”

“Maybe.” If it was anyone else, you would think he was teasing you. But he sounds so serious. Everything he says sounds so serious, and its seriously starting to get on your nerves.

“What, you had me pegged as an alcoholic?”

“Never mind.” He moves to take a sip of own drink, and you raise a brow, looking from the (mostly full) cup to his face. “Vodka and Sprite,” he says by way of explanation. You can tell by the wince on his face after he sips that he’s telling the truth. “Terrible.”

You can’t help but laugh. “What were you expecting, scotch? Or apple juice?”

“Right now I’d take either,” he says. “Gladly. It’d be leagues better than this.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Vodka and Sprite?”

“What you’re doing here,” you correct him. “I’ve never seen someone who looks like they’ve been to less parties in my life.”

“Unlike you, a true connoisseur,” he says, eyeing your can. “How you can make it through one of these with nothing but a White Claw every three months is beyond me.”

“Oh. No, I was dragged here by some friends. I’m not really a party person, either.” You angle your head in the direction of the living room/dance floor. “I wish I was. I mean, they’re good if I’m in the mood, which usually involves being drunk off more than a seltzer.”

“How do you feel about shots?”

“What happened to overconsumption of alcohol can lead to fainting? ” He shrugs. You blink up at him. “I’m not opposed.”

He reaches over your shoulder, and you flinch before realizing that he’s just trying to get at the drinks on the kitchen island. Only at fancy-ass Ouran would the Greek life kids be able to afford a house like this, you can’t help but think. You step aside to allow him better access, and take the opportunity to get a better look at him. He’s not bad-looking. He doesn’t have the type of vitality that Tamaki has, nor is he intimidatingly buff; but he���s tall, and well-dressed, and his shoulders press against the fabric of his shirt in a way that implies a bit of lean muscle. His face looks as though it should be committed to paint (knowing the type of wealth he comes from, it probably has, several times); the smooth, pale-velvet skin; the slim, curved nose, arriving at an offensively delicate point at the end; the dark eyes; the bow-drawn lips; and all of this framed by a defined jaw and well-shaped cheekbones and that strikingly dark hair.

If only he weren’t such an ass.

“Tequila alright?”

You clear your throat, looking away before he can catch you staring at him. “They have salt and lime?”

“They must.”

“Then yeah. Yeah, that’s great.”

He hands you an empty cup and goes about cutting a few lime slices. You take the opportunity to pour your own shot, and wait for him to finish. Ass or not, you have to admit that this particular interaction is going well. Even if it started out with him questioning your drinking choices. “To becoming party people,” he says once you’re set up with the salt and the lime.

“To becoming party people.” You touch your cup to his, lick the back of your hand, down the shot, and find your eyes meeting his as you suck on the slice of lime. For some reason, it brings a smile to your face. You certainly didn’t expect at any point tonight to find yourself in a frat kitchen, taking tequila shots with Kyoya Ootori, of all people. “Does this mean we’re not enemies anymore?”

Now he raises a brow. “Were we ever?”

You snort. “I mean. We didn’t exactly get off on the best foot in class.”

“I hardly think a difference in opinion makes us enemies. It made for interesting conversation, at the least.”

“Oh, no.”

“What?”

You point at him. “You’re one of those devil’s advocate guys. Is that it?”

A little crease appears between his eyebrows. “What?”

“You just like to argue for fun? You get off on it? Is that how you think normal people communicate, just pointlessly debating all the time?”

“We were having a discussion. In a discussion seminar. What’s pointless about that?”

You roll your eyes. “Can we take another shot? Whatever looks like it’ll taste the worst.” You know by now that if you want to get really fucked up, you have to go for the cheap stuff.

Once that shot’s been downed, you clear your throat. “Okay. I just…you really didn’t feel like there was any bad blood between us? I mean, okay, what about the hospital the other day?”

He pauses. “What about it?”

“We…well. I sort of jumped down your throat.” You take a breath, then a sip of your seltzer, then another breath. “So I guess that was my fault. Sorry about that.”

“Forgiven. Though, for what it’s worth, I wasn’t holding it against you.”

“Nice of you.”

“You didn’t seem to be having a great day.”

“Well. Mondays, you know?” You tip your head back, enjoying the buzz that is rapidly taking hold. “Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays, Fridays…Saturdays. Sundays. Hard to pick a least favorite.”

“Sounds miserable.”

You shake your head. “I’m exaggerating. It’s not actually that bad. But the first week of the semester is always the hardest.”

“And the second week. And the third, the fourth, the fifth.” When you focus your unsteady gaze on him, you’re delighted to realize there’s something like a glint in his eye. He really is teasing you. “And so on, and so on.”

“Sounds miserable,” you parrot back at him, and he almost cracks a smile. “Well. At least Tamaki and Haruhi—”

“Kyoya? What are you doing hiding out—oh.” Olivia stops in the kitchen doorway, and takes in the sight of the two of you. “Hi.”

“Hi.” You respond to her closed-mouth smile with an uneasy one of your own. Olivia seems nice enough, from your little exposure to her, but sorority omegas always make you nervous.

“I thought you were grabbing us drinks,” she says to Kyoya, winding an arm through his. If you weren’t already tipsy-on-the-way-to-shitfaced, you’d swear you see him tense slightly. “But I see you found Little Miss Joan-of-Arc here.”

Your smile freezes on your face as she turns back to you. “(Y/N),” you offer.

“Yeah, I know. Crusading against the big bad alpha-omega industrial complex, or whatever it is, right?”

She laughs. You join in, if only because you don’t know how the fuck else to respond, and those two back-to-back shots were definitely a bad idea. Kyoya doesn’t laugh. She notices.

“What? I’m just joking. It’s funny. (Y/N) doesn’t care, right (Y/N)?”

“Yeah.”

“See?” She cocks her head. “Y’know, it’s so crazy, I feel like I know everyone at Ouran. But I, like, didn’t have any idea of who you were until Monday. Are you a transfer?”

“No, I actually went here for undergrad before—”

“It’s just that I’ve never seen you, like, out. At any benefits or anything.”

And there it is.

There’s no denying—Ouran is a nice school. A private university, an elite and expensive private university, where scholarship students are few and far in between. And the elite tend to flock together. So it’s no wonder that Olivia (Freidmonte, a Google search after that first class revealed, and a literal fucking diamond heiress) would know all of the other rich kids (aka ninety percent of the student body) from benefits and balls and whatever else rich people did to pass the time.

Olivia’s not stupid. She’s probably put two and two together and figured out that you’re just too poor for her to have taken notice of before. But it seems, from the way she’s clinging to Kyoya with a grip that would put an anaconda to shame, that she’s probably just annoyed that a lowly beta on a scholarship would have the audacity to talk to her boyfriend. Drunk or not, you know when you’re not wanted in a room.

You clear your throat. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…I just…I have to meet some friends out there. Sorry.” The room is starting to spin around you—in a drunk way, not a fainting way, you’re pretty sure—as you make your way out of the kitchen. “See you in class,” you mumble. Neither one of them responds.

Being in the louder, crowded room almost immediately makes you want to throw up, so you push through to the nearest door, which leads to the backyard. It’s not far enough into the season to be cold; a leftover summer evening, a gift in these early September days.

You stumble down the creaky wooden stairs and collapse with your back against the house, and absentmindedly take another sip of your White Claw, before realizing with a groan how that’s definitely not going to make you any less drunk.

Oh, well. You’re too thirsty to really care.

“Having that good of a night, hm?”

Not Kyoya this time; someone you don’t recognize. Or rather, someone you do, but not by name. “Oh. Hi…”

“Reese.”

“(Y/N).” They offer a very ring-heavy hand, which you shake. If you were more sober, you’d try to get a better look. Heavy jewelry bothers you to wear, but you always like seeing it on other people. And the sight of one particular ring rings some bell in your memory as to where you know Reese from. “Oh. You run the beta frat, right?”

If you were drunk, you wouldn’t have said that at all; especially not that bluntly. You’d spent years dodging Epsilon Phi’s recruitment efforts. They seemed nice enough, but you couldn’t justify carving out the time or the money (or the interest) to take part in Greek life. But it seemed like a nice space, as far as frats went. Friendly. Full of people (of all presentations) who didn’t think that betas ought to fade into the background.

One only had to look at Reese to demonstrate that. They were probably the best-looking person you’d seen in your life, right up there with Tamaki Suoh; they even had similar tanned skin and beaming eyes, though their hair was bright copper and closer-cropped than Tamaki’s. Wearing a bright, tastefully low-cut purple shirt and high-waisted jeans, with the aforementioned jewelry (in addition to the rings, you blearily clocked several necklaces, bracelets, and at least one cartilage piercing). “We don’t really call ourselves that, but yeah.”

“Sorry. Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight.” To your horror, you’re getting a little choked up. Something about the slog of the week; the reality of Haruhi going on a date with a guy who is, by all appearances, perfect; Olivia; Kyoya; those two-and-a-half drinks—it’s too much.

“Hey! It’s not a big deal, really. You’re fine.” They peer at you with what you dimly register as concern. “Are you okay? Do you need some water?”

“M’fine.”

“Yeah. Water. C’mon, the kitchen’s this way.”

“No, no, no,” you say, clinging to some vague idea that Kyoya and Olivia might still be there. After some coaxing, you do allow them to get you to the (blissfully empty) kitchen, find you an unopened bottle of water, and get you to divulge the names of the friends you came here with.

They disappear, but you only have all of thirty seconds to feel abandoned before they return with the twins, who fuss over you and determine immediately that you should probably go home. Even though it’s, like, ten in the evening.

This part of the night is the fuzziest, even as you’re living through it. Stumbling down empty streets. Crashing through your front door. Crouching in front of the toilet with one twin holding your hair back. Being tucked into bed on your side. The door; Haruhi’s voice; the door again, and quiet. Someone leaving pills and water and a big blue bottle on your nightstand. Sleep, curling around you.

And then, while you dream: flashes of warmth and witty remarks and dark, dark eyes.

[standbyu-03]

Sober or Drunk ?

Summary : You don’t want to go to the bar ‘cause it’s too noisy. This time - after a long time you haven’t gone there, you meet a handsome guy - Billy

Pairing : Billy Russo x reader

Word count : 1043

A/N : I will have part 2 for this one with some smut 🤭

MASTERLIST

Pic not mine

It’s Saturday night. After a long long week, your colleague suggested going somewhere to relax. ‘Cause you hate bar - where is too noisy for u, so your friends pick a pub near your company all the time. Now they all wanted to go to the bar.

“Please,y/n. Let’s go to The Dawn with us. We have gone to Prague ( pub name ) like forever. Pleaseee.” They made the puppy eyes - which you can’t say no to.

“Fine. I will go with you guys this time.”

“Yay”. They all shouted

“But there’s no Jack in The Dawn. No one will know exactly what I want.” You said sadly.

“We got this babe. We can pick u some bartender, tell him you can’t drink alcohol. And made you some nice drinks. That’s easy. Let’s go.” They grabbed your hands.

Then you and your friends took a cab to go there.

When you came into the bar, it’s better than you think. The lights didn’t flicker too much. And you kinda like being here ‘cause the vibes were good, there wasn’t dark and the music’s easy to listen, not so loud.

After calling some drinks, your friends led u to the bartender, they said

“Hey,...Thomas *read the name tag*. Here is my friend y/n. She can’t drink any alcohol. So can you please make her sth sweet and yummy to drink?”

“Sure. No problem.” - He answers quickly.

“As I remember that you don’t like to dance, right ?”

You nod slightly. “ Don’t know HOW to dance, exactly.”

Your friend said, “Can you babysit this girl, Thomas ?”. They all laughed.

“That’s OK.” He giggles

After you glared at them, they picked their drink quickly and went to the dance floor.

You sit here, tried to make a conversation with Thomas - who turned out to be a cutie guy. You both chat and made friends easily. He made you a yummy apple juice - which has a yellow color.

“Now you can’t be embarrassed to sit here and just drink juice. Apple juice has a yellow color which is the same as whisky. You like it ?”

“I love it. Thanks a lot for your caring.” You answered sweetly.

Probably see you sit here alone, some dudes come close, try to make some move. A guy just laid a hand on your shoulder.

Without turning around, you say clearly

“I’m not drunk. Walk away, sir.”

It’s incredible. Just by that, some dudes already walked away from u. Thomas couldn’t stop laughing :

“You’re quite tough, girl. And sir? He must be younger than you. “

“I don’t care. They’re probably just want to make friends, or want to take me to their bed. No no not today.” You said certainly.

Thomas couldn’t stop himself from laughing.

After 30’ another man came to the bar table and sat next to you.

You turn your face to the right, look at him.

Hmm, a handsome guy!

“A whiskey, please.”

And he took a look at your drink and said

“I guess we have something in common.”

“Haha, maybe.”

He was confused “What’s wrong ?”

And he raised his eyebrow, just like asking Thomas for an answer.

“I made sth special for her. You wanna take a sip ?” He said and took another cup for this man.

“Apple juice. Are you kidding me?” The man said

You laugh, “ Yeah. My favorite. You don’t like it ?”

“Just can't believe someone come to a bar to drink a juice. Go to some “safe and sound” place like Starbuck or maybe Juicy!”. He smirks.

“Does it offend your tastes? Btw, I don't care. I don’t need you to like my drink. Drink yours.” You barked

He became silent. After some minutes he said :

“Stomach issue, right ?”

“Yeah. How can you know ?”

“I used to get some damn pain because of that.”

“Hm, now you know.”

Ha, you know that. So don’t be a jerk, man.

“I’m Billy, btw.”

“I’m y/n.”

After a while, he stood up, and he came close to you, reached his hand like waiting for you to hold it. “ Do you want to take a dance with me, honey ?”

“Don’t honey me. And by the way, I don’t know how to dance.”

“Let me show you.” Then he grabbed your hand, led you to the dance floor before you could deny it.

Oh my apple juice, I haven’t finished.

He took your hands, taught you some basic and simple moves. You didn’t know why you let your guard off when you’re around with him. Maybe he made you feel comfortable.

Then you let loose, and you both move and be closer to others .

You felt your cheeks get warmer.

“See. It’s easy.” He smiled.

This man is gorgeousss.

It’s quite fun, to be honest. You should have listened to your friends for a long time, they have begged u to come here a hundred times.

You didn't drink a drop of alcohol but you felt extremely happy and crazy... you guess it’s might be the music or maybe Billy made u have this fun.

Then he whispered to your ear “Wanna get out of here. I know you don’t like being here.”

You quickly turned around

“No, I just loved being in here.”

Then u saw sth dark and twisted in his eyes

“Don’t think you can take me to your bed this easy. I’m sober, not drunk - to be clear.”

“Oh, I know that, my dear. I just accidentally know exactly where you want to go.”

“Tell me.”

“Shooting range.”

“Wow, you surprise me again. How do you know ?”

“Ez. Cause you just spent at least 45’ watching an action movie on Thomas’s screen.”

“Smart.” You said

Then he again took your hand, led you to come with him.

You didn’t think a lot. Maybe you would be scare of him or think about maybe he can fool you to take u to any place. But you didn’t give a shit about this at all. You kept following him and let him take u to wherever he said. All you can do now is hope that he might be a good guy.

Part 2

[some-kindofgnome]

question of the night: what are your HQ faves drinks of choice? what kind of drunk are they?

omg cee this got... so out of hand lmao HERE WE GO you asked so i am gonna tell you 

literally everything there is to know about my favourite drunk HQ boys 💖 

w: drinking/intoxication, some drunk kisses and taking care of drunk people 🥺

Bokuto: okay this is multi-faceted because I FEEL LIKE bo’s favourite drink is like a strawberry daiquiri. especially if it’s the kind that you bring home in a can and blend up yourself. It’s soooo sweet and delicious and he’s also just not the type to get caught up in whether or not that’s an embarrassing thing to like drinking or not. so that’s definitely what he’ll have if, like, anything goes.

If he’s, like, out at a restaurant or at someone else’s place for a party, he’ll go for a cider. Maybe something sweet, like blackberry or cranberry cider if he can get it?? I hc that Bo has a big sweet tooth in all areas tbh.

When he gets drunk, everything that makes Bo… Bo gets amplified. He will speak louder and louder the drunker he gets, until somebody mentions it to him. Then he gets self-conscious and will whisper for the rest of the night. His body runs hot like a radiator when he’s drinking AND he needs everyone around him to know how much he loves them and how happy he is that they’re hanging out with him.

By the end of the night, he gets all needy and clingy, laying sloppy kisses on you at every possible opportunity. He definitely needs a babysitter to make sure he doesn’t get in bed with his shoes on and will keep up a consistent, low ramble about how much he loves you and how good you are to him until he passes out in the pillows and snores louder than he ever has in his entire life.

🍸

Akaashi: akaashi sits on the opposite end of the spectrum. Contrary to what many people like to write about him I think he DOES drink on the reg, even if it’s just, like, a drink here or there when he has to take work home. Either way, he definitely strikes me as a wine guy. Loves to pour a nice sweet red, definitely NOT picky about drinking it out of a wine glass or not.

Akaashi is a BIG FAT lightweight, though. It only takes him, like, two glasses of wine to start feeling really woozy. Not that you’d really be able to tell, unless you took a good long look at him. Akaashi pegs me as a really high-functioning drunk who just sort of bobs around the party with his cheeks flushed and eyes a little hazy, liking the way the wine makes his head buzz pleasant and soft.

I think he gives in a little more easily to affection that would normally make him clam up a little, if that makes any sense. Like, if you go in for a hug he’s gonna lean into it a little more than he usually would. He might actually hold onto you for a little while longer than normal, too, turned just a little clingy when the wine lowers his inhibitions.

But by the end of the night he’s definitely the one you can still rely on to put you safely to bed. he’ll be well sobered up by then and, even if he rolls his eyes, would half-drag you all the way home through the snow if it meant making sure you got home safely.

🍸

Atsumu: OKAY this is another kind of complex one. I have the feeling that when Atsumu goes to a party or like goes drinking with friends he orders beer. Beer all the way. Cheap, shitty beer, whatever they’ve got on tap, blah blah blah. And he likes it fine, it gets the job done. Maybe it bloats him a little more than he’d like and sends him to the sticky bar bathroom to piss one too many times a night, but it’s better than standing at the bar and ordering

what he’d rEALLY LIKE TO BE DRINKING which is a cocktail 👀 I think he would be into cocktails that don’t taste like they have alcohol in them honestly aldfjlskdfj I don’t think he likes the taste of most hard liquor so he would want something with like lots of peach schnapps or like fireball with apple juice, whatever weird house drink the bar served with like a thousand different mystery ingredients to mask the taste of the cheap vodka in it.

Atsumu is a MESSY drunk too, like stealing-drinks-off-the-bar, shouting across the table, laughing SO loud and slamming his hand on the bar so hard it knocks over the cocktail peanuts. he also gets like, horny and REAL flirty, but in the dorky way. Inhibitions GONE. Dumb pickup lines ENGAGED. He’ll also like, get the pickup lines wrong which make them even more nonsensical.

If he’s been wanting you in ANY capacity, if he’s so much as LOOKED TWICE at you before, you’re gonna know after sharing a couple of drinks with him. He ALREADY can’t be trusted with keeping secrets, but after a night of drinking there’s no WAY. Oh ALSO he and his brother BOTH turn beet red after exactly one (1) mL of alcohol. so you know it’s affecting them when they’re flushed from chest to forehead.

🍸

SPEAKING of Osamu, he is the one fucking respectable idiot who likes his liquor NEAT. He’s got that sophisticated palette, and I have a feeling he’s a really big wine enthusiast too (and like- know how to pair it with food really well, etcetc) but his idea of an indulgence at the end of a long day is like… a good single malt or like a fucking butterfly pea flower gin with nothing in it.

And he’ll stand there in the middle of a party drinking THAT or drinking his fucking sophisticated-as-fuck cocktail, like an Old Fashioned or a Negroni like it’s no big deal. Just don’t make the mistake of trying to make conversation by asking him what he’s drinking, because he will never stop talking.

I think that’s definitely the most distinctive feature of drunk ‘samu is that he just.. runs his mouth. Constantly. He’s not particularly boisterous or sloppy (like his brother) and he’s capable of like… having an intelligent conversation, he just never shuts up and will ramble enthusiastically about anything you can get him onto. Drunk Osamu is a lot friendlier than normal with that telltale (adorable) drunk flush about the tops of his cheeks, his nose, forehead, neck and ears.

He’s also really affectionate and loving with you if he’s had a couple. It’s still that cute sort of quiet, loving affection, but he’s not shy about PDA at all when his inhibitions are down. He’ll come up behind you at a party and put his arms around you, rest his chin quietly on your shoulder and kiss your temple. He’ll take your hand and pull it into his lap if you’re sitting next to each other, eyes trained on you with the MOST loving smile touching his lips. He’s a simp for you every day, but it shows extra hard when he’s drunk.

[a-sirens-melody]

Darkwing Duck’s Greatest Enemy: Type 1 Diabetes (And Definitely Not Self Loathing)

Quick author's note: Launchpad switches between he/they throughout the fic, just so no one gets confused! If you have any questions abt diabetes, feel free to ask me. With that said, enjoy!

***

So far, tonight has gone really well.

It's date night, and this time they're spending it eating takeout from Hamburger Hippo and watching Darkwing Duck at Launchpad's place. Wrappers lay on the floor, ignored in favor of watching Darkwing kick Megavolt’s ass on screen.

Drake is currently leaning into Launchpad's side on the couch, his partner’s arm wrapped around his waist. It all feels so cozy and domestic that he never wants it to end.

And then, because Drake must have seriously pissed off some powerful being in a past life, it happens.

Megavolt’s face becomes blurry, and it's a little harder to focus on the TV. A quick look around the room tells him that, actually, it's hard to focus on anything right now. He knows what this means; he's gotten better at picking up on the signs after twenty-eight years of living with a half-functioning pancreas.

His blood sugar’s starting to drop.

He tries to close his eyes and listen instead, but the shake of his hands quickly corrects him. He is dropping and he needs to find something to eat. Even though he just ate, like, an hour ago.

Dammit.

“Drake?”

He opens his eyes and notices that the episode is paused. He hadn't even realized, he was so caught up in his symptoms. The second thing he notices is Launchpad looking right at him.

He guesses that they felt his shaking because there's concern in their eyes now. A brief wave of guilt sweeps over him and he almost misses their question. “Is your blood sugar low?”

He finds it's a little hard to form words right now (and that scares him, it always does), so he nods his head slightly and hums.

“I'm gonna go get you a juice box.”

The arm wrapped around him vanishes as LP gets up. He helps him lay down on the couch, head pillowed on the armrest. He's still cold without his boyfriend, though, so Drake can't help the small whine that escapes him. God, he sounds pathetic.

Launchpad's eyes soften and they lean down to kiss his forehead. “I'll be right back, okay?”

A little embarrassed, Drake nods and watches the other duck head to his fridge. He closes his eyes again and almost sighs in relief as he's met with darkness. You can't lose your focus if there's nothing to focus on in the first place.

Did that even make sense? Whatever. His brain’s not working properly right now.

The sounds of his partner rummaging through the shelves fill the air. Drake is reminded of earlier when things felt so domestic between them. It's only been a couple of months since they started dating, but Launchpad already feels like the home he never had.

Drake doesn't know how he got so lucky; sometimes it all feels like a dream.

Launchpad leaving is his worst nightmare. He knows he's being a little dramatic, but his anxiety gets the better of him sometimes. He's too much, too expensive, too-

“Found it!” Footsteps pull Drake out of his thoughts and he cracks his eyes open. Launchpad already tore off the wrapping on the plastic straw and stuck it in the box. He holds it out now and places it near Drake's beak. “Drink this, okay?”

He moves the straw into his mouth with a hum and starts sucking the juice down, only stunned for a second at the chill. Fruit punch, his mind distantly informs him. It's his favorite flavor, but he's too focused on getting it into his system to really appreciate it right now.

When the juice box is thoroughly drained, he gives his boyfriend a small smile. He feels like he can talk without sounding like he's drunk now, so he says, “thanks, LP.”

“Anytime,” is the warm reply he receives. If Drake was of sound mind, he would kiss Launchpad breathless and maybe, maybe, utter those three little words that have grown harder to ignore as of late.

I love you.

The words are barely on the tip of his tongue even now. Yikes, his filter's pretty weak already. He tries to stuff the words down by chewing on the straw. Struggling with one of the disadvantages of diabetes is not his ideal confession scenario. Besides, it's way too soon to say that. Right? Right.

“Didn't think you kept juice boxes in your fridge,” he says instead. Not only is he trying to distract himself from his low brain feelings, he's genuinely curious. He doesn't recall seeing any juice boxes in LP’s fridge the last time he was here, and their favorite flavor is apple.

“Nah. Not for myself, at least.” They smile fondly at him. “I remembered that it's your favorite flavor, though, and I wanted to have something for whenever you went low over here.”

Wait.

Launchpad bought those for him? Specifically for him? And remembered his favorite flavor from a conversation they had three months ago when they asked Drake what he usually ate when his blood sugar went low?

That's...

“That's really sweet of you, LP. Thanks.” He says, because he's not really sure what to say. It's such a small act of kindness, something he's not used to, and he doesn't know how to deal with the sudden warmth in his chest.

He's too low for this. Feeling more intense emotions is a very frequent symptom of his when he's low, that's what this is. Yeah. Definitely.

His boyfriend's smile turns shy. “You don't have to thank me. Whatever helps you the most. Speaking of which, do you want me to bring your kit over here? I mean, obviously you feel low, but. Better to have an exact number, right?” Launchpad rambles, hand reaching to brush through the hair at the back of his neck.

That's a good point, actually. He has to be in the 40’s if he's feeling this bad. “Yes, please.”

Launchpad reaches to the side of his couch where Drake's bag is. Inside is his blood sugar kit (complete with a pricker, replaceable barrels, meter, test strips, insulin, and syringes), various small snacks in case he goes low when he's out, and a glucagon. He really hopes that last item is not going to be needed tonight.

He probably shouldn't have dropped the bag there, but he wanted to start their date. Can you really blame him?

The kit is found and placed onto the couch. Drake starts to reach for it, but suddenly there's a hand covering his.

“Can I check you, please?” He looks up and finds Launchpad staring at him. “I don't- if you don't want me to touch your stuff, I get it, but. You feel bad. So will you let me do it?”

You...want to help me? You don't want me to do this on my own?

“Sure. Just ask if you dunno what goes where, okay?” Drake says, thankful that his voice is somewhat steadier than his hands.

His partner nods and gets to work. They asked once how everything in the kit worked so Drake laid it all out and taught him. It felt nice having someone who wanted to listen to him talk about diabetes stuff.

He hears the test strip bottle close with a pop and the pricker calibrate with a ca-click. Just as Launchpad asks, he holds out a finger and lets his mind drift.

It's really not something he's used to, having someone around that he trusts will take care of him. For as long as he can remember, Drake could only rely on himself to get through whatever diabetic crisis he faced.

He was eight when he was diagnosed. At first, his parents did most of the hard work. He picked up on checking his blood sugar pretty quickly, but they would manage all his carb ratios and injections.

Then, they just sort of…stopped. Like they had only done it for him in the first place because he was too young to fully understand. By the time he was thirteen, he did pretty much everything on his own. So much so that more often than not on the tri-monthly visits to his endocrinologist, the car ride would be spent drilling his parents on what the past three months had been like.

Not that they ever told him they didn't care or want to care to his face. No, Drake had just picked up on it. But the night he overheard them talking about medical expenses was a particularly rude awakening.

He couldn't sleep for some reason and decided to watch some Darkwing Duck. He barely made it out of his bedroom when he heard voices.

“Why's everything gotta be so damn expensive!?”

Ah. His dad was looking at bills. So much for a DW marathon in peace and quiet. Drake had one foot back in his bedroom when he heard his mother reply.

“It doesn't really help that our current bank account looks like that, either…”

Forget going back to bed, his curiosity was peaked. He stayed still, straining to hear.

He wished he hadn't at what he heard next.

“Yeah, well, having a defective kid ain't cheap. Why couldn't you have had a normal one?”

To this day, he still remembers how his heart sank to his stomach.

Defective.

Defective.

Is that why they stopped helping? Why, at age sixteen, it was unspoken knowledge that Drake managed everything on his own? They didn't see a literal child in need, they saw a column of dollar signs. A black hole that sucked up all their cash and never gave it back.

His mom stayed quiet, and that hurt even more. She didn't care, either. Neither one of them did.

They were both selfish assholes that only cared about the alcohol they could've had stocked in their kitchen.

He cried himself to sleep that night, mourning the days when he could still trust his parents to take care of him and wishing he didn't have to live like this. If no one wanted to help him, he’d suck it up on his own. No one wanted to take care of him? Fine. Drake Mallard didn't need anyone else. He was better off on his own.

Those horrible feelings crash over him like a tidal wave now, twenty years later, and he doesn't know why they're here but he's overwhelmed by it all.

Why can't he just have a normal body? Why does his condition have to be so expensive and annoying and miserable sometimes? Why does he have to be so dependent on people when he tells himself that he’s better off working alone, when no one in his life has loved him enough to care anyway?

There's a price tag on his head (not just physical, because diabetes is a greedy little bitch), and it's only a matter of time until Launchpad figures this out. He won't want to stay up late to keep checking, to keep buying syringes or insulin or tests strips. He won't stay forever, and it's all Drake's fault, for getting so attached and having a broken, shitty body.

“Drake? Did I do something wrong?”

He blinks. There are tears in his eyes, a few of which have spilled down his cheeks.

“Uh,” his voice cracks. He wipes away the tears with his other hand. “No. N-no, you didn't do anything wrong. What were you doing?”

Launchpad cocks his head to the side and squints in concern. He knows there's more to Drake's answer, but he doesn't push yet. “I pricked your finger and put the blood in. You didn't even flinch, but I thought that was ‘cause you're used to this. Was there another reason?”

“I'm sorry.” And before Launchpad can start to ask for what? with his mouth already open, Drake rushes to say, “I'm sorry that out of all the people you could date, you got stuck with a chronically ill mess like me. You deserve a normal partner, and god you have no idea how badly I wish I was, but I'm not. I'll always be a burden and I know you won't want to stick around to deal with all the shit that comes with diabetes.

“Not that I don't want you to stay, please don't think that, but…” More tears fall and he brushes them aside, accidentally smearing blood on his feathers. “I’m not used to someone wanting to take care of me, and I don't want it to stop.”

He doesn't take his eyes off of Launchpad as he cries. If this were a cartoon, he would laugh at how quickly their expression changes. Confusion, concern, and realization flash across their face before their eyes soften again in concern.

“Baby,” they say, reaching out to cradle Drake's face. They gently wipe away the blood with their thumb, and Drake feels weak. Loving touches were something he was never given as a child, and it's taken some getting used to. It burns, unfamiliar and wonderful, every time Launchpad touches him. All he can do in this moment is lean into it and shut his eyes.

“Look at me, please?” He groans internally as he opens his eyes. Later, when his blood sugar isn't so low and he can properly think, he’ll recall the look on his boyfriend's face as determined. “I love you, so much. You're not a burden, and you never will be. Being with you is a new experience, sure, but it's a good one. It's not your fault your body's like this, and it doesn't make you any less amazing.

“Heck, if anything, it makes you even more so. You have to do more to stay healthy than most people, and you're really good at it! St. Canard is a better place with Darkwing Duck and Drake Mallard.” Launchpad leans in to kiss his forehead. “They were wrong, you're not unlovable.”

He's so gentle, so sweet, and it's all too much for Drake to wrap his mind around. Never mind the low, he's just heard what he's secretly always wanted to. He is good. He is loved. He...needs to know what his blood sugar actually was before he cries an entire ocean. One more thing, though.

“Uh,” seems like a good place to start as he scrambles to pick up the pieces of himself. He takes a shaky breath. “Thank you. Sorry I dumped all of that onto you, I don't know where it came from tonight, but. Thanks. I really needed that.”

LP still looks a little sad and it makes his heart hurt, but he bites down on his beak to avoid apologizing again. “No problem. Sometimes it just comes out of nowhere.” He strokes his cheek some more, and Drake sighs.

“This is nice and all, but,” his eyes dart to the meter still sitting in front of him. They got distracted for too long and now the little screen is dark. “Did you catch the number that showed up?”

“Buh?” Launchpad's eyes widen as he remembers what they were doing before. “Oh, dang it! Sorry! Do I need to do it again, or-”

Eh, they probably should, but Drake doesn't want to. It hasn't been too long anyways, maybe five minutes? He’ll be fine. “No, you're good, just press the button with the arrows. All the pricks get stored so you can look at them later.”

Any distress on their face is quickly replaced by a beaming smile. “Neat!” They do as Drake asked, and a number pops up: 46.

“Lovely,” Drake groans. “And I just ate. Maybe I just took too much insulin. Or am I getting sick? If I can't keep anything down in the next hour, I swear-”

LP snapping his fingers in his face pulls him away from his rambling. “Hello? Earth to Drake Mallard. I dunno what made you low, but we gotta fix it first. Would more juice work?”

Oh yeah. Hm, more juice or something else? Even though he feels exhausted, going to sleep is a bad idea. He's gotta stay up until he's back in range, so…

“Actually, do you have any Pep?” Launchpad tilts his head and furrows his brow as Drake explains. “Normally I wouldn't ask, but I think something with that much sugar would really help. Plus, the caffeine will keep me awake.”

They look less confused now, but their head remains tilted slightly. “There's not that much caffeine in Pep, though.”

“You forget I don't drink the regular Peps nearly as often as you do, LP.” The last time he actually had one was...ten years ago? They work great for treating a low quickly and that's the only time he ever cares to drink them. It's not worth the extra insulin or highs to try to look normal.

“Oh yeah! So you're not used to the sugar.” He nods. “Okay, be right back.” Launchpad takes about twenty seconds to get a Pep and come back to Drake. The tab's already open. “Uh, do you need to drink the whole thing right now?”

He really shouldn't, the juice is probably still processing. Still, it's very tempting to chug the entire thing just to put more sugar in his body. But he wants his blood sugar to be normal, not sky high. “No, I'll probably drink half of it right now. Thank you.” He takes the Pep and sips, blinking at the sheer amount of sugar flooding his taste buds.

The fact that most people drink enough of this stuff to where they hardly notice it boggles his mind. Not that the diet stuff is really healthier, but it's definitely a different taste.

Guess he's pulling a graveyard shift tonight. But at least he's with Launchpad.

(That's the other thing about drinking regular sodas; he gets really hyper. Last time, he couldn't fall asleep until exactly two am. Being tired but unable to sleep is the absolute worst feeling, and you can't change Drake's mind.)

Now that he can think a little more clearly, he realizes something.

“I can't drive like this,” he says. Driving with a low blood sugar is really dangerous, and not his usual kind. It's the kind of dangerous that could get himself, or someone else, or even both, killed. “And I'm definitely not walking home anytime soon, so. Guess our date’s been extended?”

Launchpad blinks at him, then claps his hands together and grins. “You're staying overnight! I mean, I wish it was under better circumstances, obviously, but. Yay!” He rocks on his heels before catching himself and looking away, a faint blush appearing on his face. “Anyways, is there anything else you need?”

Drake's about to reply not right now, thank you, but then he realizes something that's actually pretty important.

“Wait, since I'm staying here tonight, could I use your bathroom really quick? I, uh, need to take my binder off,” he admits. He’d forgotten it was even there until he remembered wait, you need to take that off before you go to sleep. He put it on about a half hour after he woke up, which was at noon, and it's midnight now so...oops. It's past time to take it off.

His boyfriend nods. “Yeah, no worries! Do what you gotta do. Wait.” His brow furrows. “You need me to help you over there?”

“I,” he falters. “Wouldn't mind it if you did.” The sugar's kicking in now, but he still doesn't trust himself. Given how clumsy he is? Better safe than sorry.

Launchpad holds his arms as he walks to the bathroom. He closes the door, Launchpad sitting in front of it just in case, and turns to the mirror. His shirt hits the floor, soon followed by his binder. A sigh of relief fills the air as he folds it. He hadn't realized how long he'd been wearing it. Tomorrow will have to be a skip day just to stay on the safe side.

(Hormones aren't a concern; he's not on them right now and is perfectly fine with that. The cost of that and insulin would be hard to juggle, anyways.)

He opens the door to find Launchpad staring at him, and he smiles shyly. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Launchpad smiles back, and holds out his hand. Drake takes it and pulls his boyfriend to his feet. They walk back to the couch together. “So, what are we doing? You can't go to sleep until your blood sugar's back up and we were in the middle of an episode of Darkwing Duck.”

“I like the way you think,” Drake teases. “So long as you check every now and then to make sure I haven't fallen asleep yet.” He sits down in his original spot.

“Whatever you need,” they reply, and sit down next to him. They wrap their around his waist and Drake leans into their side as he tries to find the remote. It occurs to him just then that there's still something he hasn't said yet. Something bigger than “thank you.”

He taps LP on the shoulder. They turn to look at him and oh no, he's already flustered. “I just. You said you, uh, loved me earlier and I wanted to say that, that I love you too.” His face is burning, and he got quieter at the end, but at least it’s out in the open now.

Launchpad’s eyes soften and he tilts his head close enough to kiss Drake. It's a quick peck, but sweet nonetheless. When he pulls away, he's smiling. “You're wonderful, you know that?”

Drake only blushes more and buries his face in Launchpad's chest. He can feel Launchpad chuckle and oh. Oh, that's really nice. He likes that a lot. He would stay right here, but the sounds of the Darkwing Duck episode are a siren song that never fails to lure him in.

They stay there, watching episode after episode and Launchpad checking in every so often. By the time Drake's blood sugar has gone back to normal, he stops watching and starts really thinking about the events of the night.

He doesn't have to do this on his own anymore. Someone actually wants to take care of him now.

He is loved. Really, truly loved. And he’ll never let Launchpad go.

[themalhambird]

Growing Up Broken: I Talk About My (A)sexuality For 4 ¼ Pages.

I am asexual.

No, this doesn’t mean that I’m some form of plant budding off copies of myself if I get enough water and sunlight. It’s a shame. I could do a lot with multiple copies of myself- get someone else to do the dishes, the cleaning, my schoolwork…

I am asexual.

Asexuality is the absence of sexual desires or feelings for other people. I say absence deliberately: sexual attraction is not something that I lack or am missing. I am not going without. I’m just a 23 year old who has never once felt the desire to have sex with another person, who couldn’t describe how it feels to “fancy” someone if there was a gun to their head, who thinks women and men and anyone in between can sometimes be stunningly beautiful, would possibly be nice to cuddle- but kissing on the mouth seems like it would be a really weird thing to do.

I am asexual, and it’s almost Pride Month, and so I want to untangle some of the thoughts in my head and spin them out on to paper, to try and lay out my feelings about my sexuality, or lack thereof, and what it’s like growing up when no one bothers to tell you that not experiencing sexual desire like, ever, is a thing. Let’s start at the beginning, shall we?

It’s 2014. Puberty has doing stuff to me for the last two years or so: periods (urgh), breasts (neat!), underarm hair (why do I have to shave this? no one’s gonna see it), growth spurts (I’m getting taller than my older sister. I want to keep going till I’m taller than mum). The only thing not happening is wanting to have sex, something the nurse who came to Talk To Us All About Growing Up back in 2009 assured us Year Sixes would definitely happen as soon as puberty hit.

Still. It’ll happen soon, probably. Sixteen is still a bit too young to be having sexual feelings, right? The boys…really not interesting at all, but the other girls are pretty. I like their hair. I like the shape of their bodies. I just don’t fancy any of them. When we’re told to imagine our future husbands or wives in class (don’t ask my why, I’ve long forgotten the point of the exercise, I just remember that) I picture a wife.

(Lesbian is the first label I apply to myself. I stick it on tentatively- keep peeling it off my shirt and putting it back somewhere different like I’m not quite sure where it fits. It’s not wrong, necessarily. I’m just not certain it’s right. I like girls a whole lot better but I’m not saying I could never love a guy. I’m just not attracted to them. I’m not attracted to women, either- but I feel like I will be. When I’m old enough to feel that kind of thing. )

Sex Ed lessons are mortifying. We’re asked to list all the sexual terms we know on an A3 sheet of paper. I don’t know what half the things other people say mean- blowjob, 69, masturbate, porn . I don’t know how other people know these things either. We’re sixteen. It’s too young.

That summer I play Sebastian in an abridged version of Twelfth Night and it convinces me to take Drama at A-level, although I didn’t at GCSE. The drama classes teach me two things. First of all, I don’t like acting women. I prefer breeches rolls. I don’t know why. We’re talking about my asexuality, not my gender confusion, so let’s put a pin in that and move on to point two. My drama class teaches me that everyone my age is having sex, or wants to have sex, or is planning on having sex soon; sex is a constant, every class, every conversation. Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex. So apparently sixteen (seventeen) isn’t too young after all.

It’s like this. One day you wake up and you realise that everyone else is speaking a language you don’t understand. Suddenly, sexual feelings aren’t something that no one your age is having but you’ll all develop soon- it’s that sexual feelings are something that everybody your age is having apart from you. People your age are dating, kissing, fucking, and it’s not something you’re interested in doing, necessarily, but you still feel so horribly left out. Like you’re missing some kind of major milestone. You try not to let it bother you- you watch Buffy every Monday you get to see your dad. (You watch loss of virginity be portrayed as growing up). You read. (The books you pick up all involve love and love always seems to at least imply sex). You- google things. You google the words you didn’t understand in that sex ed class. You google “how to tell if you’re attracted to someone” in case there’s some secret signal your body sent you that you missed. You feel like you should know if you’ve ever felt sexual attraction but then maybe you’re just really, really dumb. Maybe there’s something wrong with you. The NHS website reckons that if you’ve got a low sex drive you ought to see a doctor. The girls in your drama class keep talking about boys and sex and sex and boys and you aren’t really interested in either of those things. You cling to the thought, lesbian and hope that when you get to university, you’ll stop being so repressed. Girls are pretty- but the ones at school are either your friends or kind of mean. Of course you don’t fancy anyone there. University. University will save you. (Boys are sometimes pretty too. There are boys at school whose personalities are nice enough- who are the type of man you wouldn’t mind dating one day maybe- but you can’t ever picture yourself having sex with one. Dicks seem weird and really not the kind of thing you’d want inside you. I mean for fuck’s sake- why? You can’t even get a tampon in.)

I don’t like looking back on this. Sixteen, seventeen year old me was starting to get pretty freaked out. I like looking back at the first year of uni even less, because if seventeen year old me was freaking out, eighteen year old me was buying alcohol. That’s how it goes, right? Sex and alcohol. You see it all the time on T.V. Fictional people get fictional drunk and fictional cheat while they’re on fictional breaks with their fictional partners. David Tennant is pretty. A man at work is handsome and more importantly intelligent, into Shakespeare, into good conversation. The label switches from lesbian to ‘bisexual but heavily skewed toward women’ and I cling to that as tightly as possible because after that, I’m out of options. It is impossible that I’m not feeling sexual attraction: the whole world screams about sexual fucking attraction all the fucking time, I’m obviously just too uptight, I obviously just need to relax-

I once drank a whole bottle of wine in what was essentially one go. I paused for breath, but that was about it- I don’t think I even bothered with a glass. My goal was to get myself drunk enough that I could feel sexual attraction. I thought that the best way to go about things- to finally ‘grow up’- would be to get super drunk, and then leave the flat and find someone who would screw me. I reasoned that I would enjoy it once I was doing it- after all, the whole world pushes sex as this wholly desirable thing for any normal adult to want, even need- so I would like it once I was doing it and then I would be fixed. Fortunately, drinking a whole bottle of wine when you’ve never had more than a single glass of champagne or a couple of glasses of rum and apple juice before in your life gets you past “lowered inhibitions” to “can’t walk straight or upright” very quickly. I got as far as the bathroom, threw up, a lot, and staggered back to my room. I woke up at 3 pm the next afternoon feeling stupid for drinking, and mad at myself for still being a virgin.

I had a lot of problems in my first year of university and not all of them were about my sexuality crisis. I was isolated, fairly friendless, and not really cut out for socialising with my housemates who were probably all lovely people, but I find new people painfully difficult and hiding away seemed easier. But the feeling that there was something broken inside me because I wasn’t experiencing what everything seemed to be telling me was one of the most vital parts of the human experience- sexual attraction to other people- contributed to my general feelings of self-loathing and disgust. I attempted to induce sexual desire in myself by drinking on several further occasions, although never quite to the same extent as the first time. I’m not sure whether this counts as self-harm, but it certainly wasn’t healthy.

I didn’t know asexuality was a thing.

I knew I wasn’t straight- I’d known that for a while. I learnt that I enjoyed reading, talking, even writing about sex, as long as it was sex between people who weren’t real, but fantasising about fictional characters having sex and fantasying about myself having sex are two very different things. The former happened fairly frequently. The latter didn’t happen once, and still never has. My second year at university was better than my first: I was living with friends, I was further away from campus which meant I had to walk more, which probably helped, I had also started to make several friends online with whom I could happily chat even when I wasn’t in the mood for ‘actual’ people. I used bisexual to describe myself because on the rare occasions I thought about romance, I couldn’t really see myself ruling out anyone who was willing to put up with me.

I’m not quite clear when I first heard the term ‘asexuality’. I became aware of it gradually. Someone I followed on Tumblr identified as ‘grey-ace’. Characters from my favourite fantasy series were being headcanoned as ‘asexual’. At some point I must have learnt properly what that meant.

It sometimes feels like there ought to have been a lightbulb moment- like I should have seen the word, seen the definition, and instantly seen myself. But it is very, very hard to delete the message- ‘sex is important- sex is what grown-ups do- sex is what you should want to do’ – that the world constantly sends to us: in advertising, in entertainment, in the conversations of a drama class that always circled back to that topic, to the detriment of the sole seventeen year old who wasn’t really bothered. To embrace asexuality seemed like I was giving up on trying to fix myself, on waiting for the right person to come and make everything better. On the potential of their being a right person. I can wrap my head around people having casual sex very easily. It’s romantic love without sexual desire that I’m scared won’t work- how am I supposed to know if it’s love without there also being physical attraction? No romance arc that I had ever seen was without an element of sexual tension. So, no lightbulb moment for me. No switch going off- “aha, at last, that’s what I am!”. Just a gradual thought washing across my mind every now and then, like the tide rushing up a patch of sand and drawing straight back, leaving only dampness to show where there had been a good half-inch of water only a moment ago.

I might be asexual?

And ‘I might’ becomes ‘I think I am’, and the tide starts coming in. ‘I think I am’ became ‘I am’ at some point or other.

I am asexual.

I find reassurance in knowing that there’s a word for what I am, for how I (do not) feel. I am asexual. Not broken, or damaged, or too uptight to properly feel, or too dumb to recognise what I do feel. I am asexual- I have an absence of any sexual desire for others and that’s perfectly okay. I might fall in love one day. I might not. I don’t know how you’re supposed to know if you have the capacity to fall in love before you find yourself doing it. It might be nice to have a wife. It would also be nice to have a cat. I could cope with it just being me, a cat, and good friends for the rest of my life. If I fall in love- if I am capable of falling in love- it will just mean I am asexual, but romantic, and I will have learnt something new about myself. The point is-

The point is, I am incredibly lucky that I stumbled across Asexuality before I got myself hurt trying to force something that wasn’t there. The point is, this world assumes that sexual desires are the norm, and maybe they are, but that just makes it all the more important that people know that they aren’t abnormal for not experiencing sexual desire. To all the people who need to hear it: You are not broken. You are not alone.

I’m not sure how to wrap this up. I feel like I should say something profound or something. But I think I’m just gonna leave it like this:

I am asexual. Asexuality is the absence of sexual desires or feelings for other people. I say absence deliberately: sexual attraction is not something that I lack or am missing. I am not going without. I’m just a 23 year old who has never once felt the desire to have sex with another person, who couldn’t describe how it feels to “fancy” someone if there was a gun to their head, who thinks women and men and anyone in between can sometimes be stunningly beautiful, and possibly be nice to cuddle- but kissing on the mouth seems like it would be a really weird thing to do. I am not broken. I am not ‘going through a phase’ or ‘looking for attention’ or ‘trying to be special’. Everyone’s special, fuck you. Knowing that I am not the only person to feel how I feel makes me feel like I’m standing on solid ground. May all people experiencing the same confusion and distress over their sexual orientation that I felt growing up find their way safely to the same solid ground: you are not broken. We’re not broken.

[rainywritingsx]

hcs: Shinsou, Todoroki & Midoriya with an s/o who gets drunk on apple juice

Hey, this may sound kind of stupid but when I drink apple juice it has the same effect as if I drank alcohol. So can I request hcs for Shinsou, Shouto, & Izuku with an s/o that gets “drunk” by just drinking apple juice, she gets all slow, calls a thing something else, and is overall just wasted, like I don’t remember what I do when I drink apple juice and that’s why I can’t trust it, thank if you do my weird request!

no no it doesn’t sound stupid at all, if anything it seems quite amusing to me lmao, which is why I can’t wait to write this :D hope you enjoy!

I haven’t written in a whiiiilleeee woah, this feels strange but I also missed it so much. I’m gonna try to be as I am usual with writing, I think I just need to get into it again ^^ Anyway enough of my talking about me, now onto the headcanooonssss

Tip jar ^^

Hitoshi Shinsou

okay so

it would take a while for Shinsou to see you in your ‘drunk’ state

because I don’t think he really hangs out with people a lot

and when you two do you just avoid apple juice like the plague because you know exactly what happens if you don’t

but well, one day you’re hanging out the bakusquad who you’re friends with

and of course you knew Shinsou wasn’t  there so you went all out with the juice

you aren’t that embarrassed about being that way around your friends as they’re strange too and they had seen you that way before

but

they know that you kindaaaaa like the purple haired boi

and kaminari and sero think that it would be hilaaarious to have him see you like this

so they text him to come to kaminari’s dorm room, where you all are hanging out

Shinsou at first declines the offer bc he just wants to sleep and isn’t in the mood to be annoyed

but then kaminari tells him you’re there too ;)

he leaves out the drunk on juice part :)

He won’t give in immediately, just because he knows he will get teased if he does

so well, he goes to the dorm of class A (Aizawa totally didn’t see him and pretend he wasn’t looking at all) and looks for kaminari’s room

he gets there and is slightly disappointed when bakugou opens the door instead of you

he doesn’t ask where you are, but bakugou knows that shinsou wants to see you

and tbh, he wants to see his reaction to your state too

“she’s inside” is all he says

Shinsou kinda wants to r u n

But he doesn’t

As he enters he can hear yelling from the distance

and there’s  just pure confusion on Shinsou’s face

until he enters the living room

he sees you dancing on the couch, yelling some incoherent sentences

mina has joined you at this point and the sight is just really funny

assuming you got drunk on alcohol (y’all are of legal age here we don’t support underage drinking!!) he just chuckles and shakes his head

and then sero decides to tell him you became… that… because of apple juice

to say that Shinsou finds it amusing is an understatement

You’re probably too drunk to even realise what is going on

People who don’t know him maybe won’t be able to tell, but the bakusquad sees he’s enjoying every second of this

“Oh my god look at that cute kitty!!!”

“....y/n that’s a plushie of a bear”

okay now over to when you two are together

Shinsou won’t be controlling about this or anything, since it’s not like you are ruining your kidneys and as long as you aren’t alone things are fine

might tease you the next day over it tho hehe

(after he has taken care of you and you’ve recovered from your ‘hangover’ of course :D)

also imagine him carrying to your dorm :,)

i mean he  b u f f e d up didn't he

literally doesn't care if you’re heavy or not he WILL carry you bc you’re his baby!!

might act like he gets annoyed at your drunk state

which he will be sometimes but he wouldn’t trade it for the world

Todoroki Shouto

Todoroki’s reaction is hard to tell from his face probably

I mean he doesn’t make you think he’s annoyed or angry

but he isn’t laughing either

baby is just confused

and before you two are couple he doesn’t exactly know how to take care of you in that state

like he wants to help but,,,, how????

sometimes

sometimes

he will slightly chuckle at you

and have this teeny tiny adorable smile uwu

“wait what is a canadian flag doing here.”

“..... you mean todoroki?”

okay in order for him to see you like that you will probably have to hang out with the dekusquad

they don’t really drink alcohol, so most drinks that they have are just juice

they know what happens when you drink too much

iida will most likely constantly be telling you off if you drink too much

and uraraka just tries to distract you so you won’t be drinking the whole time

….and midoriya doesn’t really know what to do

anyway, one time, midoriya, being the sweet angel he is, invites todoroki to join you guys

and well he wants to say no first

but then deku rambles and somewhere he mentions you

boy is sold immediately

and by the time he arrives, you are already wasted

and oh lord what a mess

todoroki doesn’t really know how to react

don’t get him wrong, he won’t think of you any less

he just,,, doesn’t know how to help?

“todoroOooooOOokiii, hiiii~” you giggle as you skip over to him

he can’t help but think you’re adorable uwu

baby is blushing

before he realises your attention goes back to the music that you had put on earlier

“SAVAGE LOOOVEEE, DID SOMEBODY DID SOMEBODY BREAK YOUR HEAAART.”

you even try to make him join

haha, no.

but of course he will watch

and secretly enjoy after a while

does feel this unfamiliar pang when he sees you pulling Midoriya with you to dance

dw bub he likes someone else :)

okay and

when you two are together

todoroki tries to keep you as sober as he can

he always sees the regret in your face the day after and he doesn’t like seeing his partner sad :(

todoroki is too pure for this world i’m crying

might not always be the best at comfort the day after but you can tell he does his best

if you ask him to get ice cream he will buy a supply for the next 59 years

it’s the thought that counts right

and of course it will be bought with Endeavor’s credit card :D

Midoriya Izuku

okay so

I think how midoriya handles it can go two ways, depending on whether you two are close or not

if you two are close or have been childhood friends, he will know about your… interesting habit

however, if he doesn’t know you that well he probably has no idea

tho he does analyse people at times, I don’t think the fact that you get drunk on apple juice crosses his mind

if you two are close, he will try his best to keep you ‘sober’

if you do happen to get drunk he will keep a veeeery close eye on you!!

and as soon as a) someone bothers you or b) you’re just completely wasted he will take action

and bring you to your room if it gets too late

“Izuku…. Why is there broccoli on your head?...”

“uhm… That’s my hair y/n…”

he will 100% blush at some things you say

be careful, his poor heart is v fragile

despite his flustered state he will do his best to help

will definitely take care of you the next day

and trust me, if you thank him or tell him he’s doing great this boi will be so happy and blushy uwu

Now, if he isn’t that close to you it will take a while for him to find out about your interesting habit

he might be a little too shy to help, but he might tell your friends if something is wrong

something like “Hey, is y/n alright?”

just so your friends will stay kinda alert

but well, if they’re wasted too he will most likely try to help

he will be a lot more flustered than if you two were close friends

and he won’t know what exactly to do because he doesn’t know your boundaries, at the same time he wants to respect them so,,,, yeah that will be hard for him

now,,, if you two were a couple

be prepared to get pampered

BUT first of all

he will do his best to make sure you don’t get drunk every time you’re given some apple juice

of course he won’t be controlling

he will just kinda remind you how you get when you drink too much

and if you end up getting ‘drunk’, he will keep a v e r y close eye on you

might even be a little overprotective

will definitely leave the party early with you because he knows how you will be the next day

sorry bub it’s for your own good

the next day he will bring whatever you need!!

“uhm… I know what your favourite ice cream flavor is but there were so many brands so i bought them all.”

welp he means well :D

and cuddles!!!

if you need them he will be more than happy to give them

and soft forehead kisses

aaaa i’m so soft

oh one more thing

he will definitely carry you when you’re too drunk

and

if you snuggle up to his chest and/or wrap your arms around his neck

he will be about to explode

“..why is there a pillow on your chest izu?”

poor boy doesn’t know what to do

and whether you are close or not he will check on you the next day

to sum it up he’s just a shy angel that does his best to help you, whether you barely know each other or are in a relationship

[hedwigstalons]

High Expectations - Ch22

Next instalment of the military boys for you with WASP!Gordon and Air Force!Scott.  Lots of love and thanks to @willow-salix for putting up with my musings, moaning and general self doubt.

Earlier parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Twenty-One

AO3 chapter link

Chapter Twenty-Two

The bar was dark and packed to bursting point.  Gordon nursed a juice while keeping half an eye on the door for Scott. It was probably just as well that the army had been allocated a different bar he reflected, he wasn’t sure many more bodies could safely squeeze into the already crowded space.  The US Army, buoyed by being on home turf, had scraped a narrow victory in the competition and the walk from the barracks had been accompanied by the sounds of celebration from across the base as the resident personnel decided to toast the victors.  In light of this the event organisers had decided it was perhaps wise to keep the visitors separate from their hosts, a winning team could get a little over enthusiastic in their celebrations, especially with an entire base full of compatriots on hand to buy them drinks.  It meant that the designated non-Army bar was crowded but at least Gordon knew he and Scott would definitely end up at the same place.  

Ordinarily he would be in the thick of the action after an event.  Before, the short time between the end of a competition and heading home had been one of the few points in his life when he was free of responsibilities and obligations and he usually took full advantage of the freedom.  His misspent youth could be carefully plotted out on a calendar in regimented bursts around his swimming commitments before the daily realities of training, school and looking after Alan kicked back in.  

Tonight he wasn’t in the mood for indulging in a few hours of hedonism, especially after Scott’s prior warnings about underage drinking and military police not making for a happy combination; it wasn’t worth risking his fledgling career for.  The more physical pleasures that often followed a competition were also off the cards in a shared dormitory of strangers.  Most of those present though didn’t fall under the state’s age restriction and the alcohol was flowing freely.  A glass thudded down on the table in front of him, slopping some of the contents onto the already sticky table.

“Get that down you, Tracy.  You earned it.”  The sound drew his eyes away from the door and back to the table of WASPs around him.  He hoped Scott would turn up soon, after the swimming was over he’d managed to avoid the cretins he’d had the misfortune of being thrown into the pool with but with everyone confined to one place there was no escape.  Not all of WASP fell into the obnoxious category but there were a few individuals that he was quite glad he’d be unlikely to cross paths with ever again.

“I’m good, thanks.”  He nodded towards his own glass, still half full of apple juice.

“Ah, c’mon, you’re off duty.”  An uncoordinated hand slapped him on the shoulder, jolting him forwards with the force of it.  WASP might not have won the competition but they hadn’t done badly and a sizable chunk of the points had come from Gordon’s success in the pool.  Points that were being celebrated with a few too many beers and a fair quantity of hard liquor.  “Lighten up a little.”  

The glass was shoved closer, nearly falling off the edge of the table into his lap.  He wasn’t too sure what was in it but it sure as hell wasn’t apple juice; from some of the sniggerings and mutterings and looking at who had supplied the drink he strongly suspected the glass contained a lethal mix for the sole purpose of getting him blind drunk.

“He said he’s fine.”  A hand reached down and covered the glass, dragging it away towards the middle of the table with a scraping sound.

Gordon looked up, then up further.  Scott towered over the table, exuding an air of command even during his down time.  Blue eyes were set into what Gordon clearly recognised as protective mode, his mouth thin and his jaw clenched, daring those at the table to challenge him.  Grateful though he was to have his brother finally show up he really didn’t need Scott to antagonise the rest of his team over one drink that he’d had no intention of touching anyway.

“Sorry folks, family reunion time.  I’m sure one of you can put that drink to good use,” he flashed a placating grin as he quickly stood up and stepped away from the table, drawing Scott away before tempers could flare.  Those that hadn’t been at the pool were looking a little bemused at Scott’s sudden arrival and departure which must have come across as fairly rude but Gordon could already feel the tension from the swimmers who had butted heads with his brother before and he was keen to avoid an argument.  “Do you have to rub everyone up the wrong way?” he asked when they were finally clear of the WASP delegation.

“They’re idiots, and drunk ones at that.”  Scott was in no mood to suffer fools, he’d had enough of that already for one day.

“I know, but you’re late and I didn’t really have anywhere else to wait.  And they aren’t all idiots, there’s just a few bad apples on the team.”

“If you say so.  What the hell was in that drink anyway?”

“No idea, but I had no intention of finding out.  I could have handled that by myself you know.”

“Sorry, I should have trusted you.” Scott at least had the decency to look a little shame faced, sometimes it was hard to remember that Gordon was no longer a kid and was capable of making his own decisions, usually the right ones. “I just know what it can be like, the military can be a bit heavy handed with the drink when it’s in the mood.  Speaking of which, do you mind if I grab a beer?”  

“Go for it,” Gordon shrugged, just because he was sticking to juice didn’t mean his brother had to.

Scott gave a grateful nod and worked his way towards the bar, his movements still stiff and tense.  He ordered a beer and knocked the whole lot back in record time before leaving the empty bottle on the counter top.

“Jeez Scott, is everything okay?” The ferociousness with which Scott attacked the drink had surprised Gordon and he sensed that Scott’s mood wasn’t just down to his encounter with the WASP team.  The man before him certainly wasn’t the carefree brother he’d enjoyed sparring against just a few hours earlier.

“I’m fine.  Can we get out of here?” the tone suggested Scott was anything but fine.

“Sure,” he nodded, following on in Scott’s wake as they made their way to the exit.  Once they reached the cool night air Gordon tried again, it was clear from Scott’s bearing that something was bothering him.  “Now are you going to tell me why you’re storming round like a thunder cloud?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Bullshit, Scott.  You show up late looking like you’re spoiling for a fight then knock back a drink at mach 3.  You either tell me what’s going on or I’ll set Virgil on you.”  

Scott grimaced but he could tell from Gordon’s expression that he was deadly serious.  At least Gordon was likely to have some understanding and sympathy whereas with Virgil he risked being subjected to an anti-military guilt trip and he definitely wasn’t in the mood for that.  Normally his immediate younger sibling would be his sounding board but on this their opposing views were likely to be a stumbling block, no matter how well intentioned his brother's counsel might be.

“Not here,” the area immediately outside the bar was busy with people taking a break from the heat and crowds inside and there were a few too many Air Force personnel around for his liking, “let’s take a walk.”

They headed off into the darkness, their subconscious steps leading them by mutual consent towards the nearby athletics track.  The bleachers were empty in stark contrast to the crowds of the previous day and the whole area was shadowy with just a few security lights illuminating the gates.  They settled onto the hard planks and took a few moments to just sit quietly in the darkness.

It was Gordon who cracked first, the slumped shoulders and stony expression worn by his brother were still a cause for concern.  Scott looked tired and not just in the purely physical sense.

“So spill, how come you were so late tonight?”

“Just had to deal with some stuff from my CO.”

“Still not gelling with the new guy?”  He had been treated to a few choice words in the past about Scott’s thoughts on his Commander and they were far from complimentary.

“Not that new anymore.  But no, he still doesn’t trust me to lead my unit and questions my every decision.  I guess the feeling’s mutual though.”

“How so?”

“His orders are...urgh.”  He dropped his head into his hands for a moment, his fingers carding through his hair in agitation, before straightening and gazing unseeingly over the empty track.  “My last mission, it was a complete disaster.  Pretty much everything I predicted would happen, did, but when I tried to talk to him about it before we flew out I just got shot down,” there was a heavy pause, “just like two of my unit,” Scott muttered darkly.

“Ouch,” Gordon winced.  “I didn’t hear about that; must have been reported while I was on the subs, it can be hard to keep up with the news down there.”

“It wasn’t reported.  The whole mission was top secret, even the guys’ families think they were on some training exercise that went wrong.  Look, I really shouldn’t be telling you any of this.”  He turned towards Gordon and even in the darkness the silent plea could be seen.

“Understood,” Gordon tried to reassure him.  He knew there would probably be times in the future when he needed to speak to someone outside of the service despite it being against orders and if you couldn’t trust family, who could you trust?  “Whatever you say goes no further.”  This moment was between him and Scott, one serving brother to another, and he could feel his shift in status from dependent child to equal.

“Thanks.” The quiet nod that accompanied it conveyed a depth of feeling that showed just how much Scott was dealing with.  “You always hear rumours about the secret stuff and you think it’s going to be all exciting, but the reality is...it’s bad.  This isn’t what I joined up for.  The guys from my unit weren’t the only casualties either, there were civilians in the area, innocent people who had no choice in all this.  Collateral damage is how my CO referred to them, callous bastard.”

It was the first time Scott had spoken to anyone outside of his immediate unit about the mission and the relief at being able to criticise the orders without reprimand was palpable.  He’d been on the other side of this conversation a couple of times as some of the men and women who served under him had felt the need to talk but he’d always been the listening ear and had always been required to respond on party lines, that the sacrifices were worth it for the bigger picture, despite his desire to scream that he’d thought it was a fool's errand and that he hadn’t wanted to lead them into danger.  But none of them had been given a choice, it was a case of fly or be court martialed.  Now, with the lives of those who trusted him on his conscience, he wondered if court martial would have been the better option. 

Gordon sat in silence, realising that what his brother really needed was someone to just listen as he worked through his own thoughts.  His own meagre service history, still in the early stages, had him completely devoid of experience in the field of combat and the moral minefield it could evidently come with.  In the deep shadows of the stands Gordon could almost feel the ghosts that haunted his brother's memories, turning the figure that was normally a poster boy for patriotism into a hunched and brooding shell that looked far older than his twenty-six years.

As if sensing the scrutiny his brother was subjecting him to Scott mentally shook himself and straightened.  The doubts and worries were locked away again as he visibly morphed back into older brother mode; strong, dependable and emitting a feeling of self-assurance.  He might have let his guard slip for a moment but he had worn the mantle as head of the pack for too many years to be comfortable showing such vulnerability for long.  He was already doubting the wisdom of telling anyone about his problems but the call from his CO earlier in the evening had left him angry which always clouded his judgement.  Venting had helped a bit and he was grateful that Gordon had been there, listening without judgement in a way that their father or Virgil never could.

“So what’s this posting of yours?” He asked, flipping  the focus back to  Gordon.  “You said in the ring you wouldn’t have any time for training.”  

It was a clear sign that any conversation about the Air Force and Scott’s thoughts towards it was over.  The walls were back up and Gordon knew that, despite that momentary show of vulnerability, any further probing wouldn’t be welcomed.  It was troubling just how much Scott was affected, biggest brother had always been so confident, but tonight Gordon had seen a side he’d never been privy to before and he wondered how many other times Scott had worn the mask to protect the rest of them from his doubts.  

Much as he wanted to help Scott he really didn’t know how and he still had his own problems to unpick.  Now it was his turn to be in the spotlight.

“No, I think my sporting activities are going to be on hold for a while.  Um, I’m being given command of a craft.”

“You’re getting a Merlin? You really must have impressed them during the training to get your own sub so quickly.”  Scott couldn’t help but feel a flush of pride at Gordon getting that level of recognition so early on in his career.  Really Gordon should have been bouncing at the news so to see him so flat and brooding was a worry and he wondered what the problem was.  “You had to know it was coming at some point, commanding a unit is kinda the deal with being an officer.”

“S’not a Merlin, it’s a bathyscape.  I go in a little under a month.”

“A bathyscape?  I didn’t even know WASP had those.”

“Yeah, it’s a research posting; unlike the Air Force, WASP isn’t all about combat missions y’know.  I’ll be out there for a whole year, looking at underwater farming methods.”

Scott whistled, as first assignments went it was a big one but perhaps not in the direction Gordon had been hoping to take; his brother has made no secret of wanting to get a place on the sleek and fast Stingray, the whole point of volunteering for the Merlins was as a stepping stone to this, and a research bathyscape was the polar opposite.   “That’s a long time, is that what the problem is?  At least you know your way around a farm, or was a sea tractor not quite what you had in mind as your first mission command?  You don’t sound too excited about it all.”

“It’s not a sea tractor,” Gordon snorted at Scott’s abysmal attempt to lighten the mood.  “I know underwater farming might not be everyone’s bag but I’ve been really enjoying the oceanography and marine biology parts of my training.  I think that’s partly what got me picked for it.  A whole year is a bit longer than I was expecting but this is a big deal.  This project could really make a difference and I’ll be leading a sizabe team so it’s an honour to be chosen.”

“I sense a ‘but’ coming on.”  Despite everything he was saying there was a distinct lack of excitement from the aquanaut.  

“It’s the whole research element.  The project is joint with CalTech and I’ll be sending our findings on to their marine biology team.”

“What difference does that make?”

Gordon tried to meet Scott's eyes but couldn't, nervous about whatever reaction he might get to the news he hadn't yet been brave enough to voice.  Compared to the issues Scott was facing this seemed minor in comparison but it was still giving him sleepless nights.  His stomach churned, the butterflies inside him evidently practicing backflips or something.  He hadn't told anyone about this, not even Virgil, but he trusted Scott to give an objective opinion and be honest with him.

“Well, most officers have been to university.  It turns out that they like those of us who haven’t to get qualified on the job.  Part of the deal with CalTech is that the research papers can count as course credit.  If I study for a few extra units while I’m down there then by the end of the year I could earn a higher ed diploma.”

“That’s great news.”

“Is it?  My CO is talking like it’s a done deal but I’m really not sure.”

“What’s not to be sure about?”  

“This is me, Scott.  The family screw up.  Part of the reason I’m even in WASP is cos you finally got Dad to see sense that I wasn’t cut out for College.”

“You are not a screw up!” Scott exclaimed, cross that even now their father’s past needling about Gordon’s academic abilities was still able to drag his brother down; sure he wasn’t in the same league as John but then very few people were and it didn’t mean he wasn’t bright in his own right.  “Now you listen up.  I didn’t go against Dad cos I didn’t think you could hack college, I did it because I could see you’d make a damn good aquanaut.  You’re made for the submarine service but that doesn’t mean you’re incapable of anything else.”

“But studying at undergrad level, it’s going to be a lot of work.”  

“Gordon, you work harder than pretty much anyone else I know.  You certainly worked harder at school than the rest of us,” he took in the raised eyebrows that framed a look of pure skepticism.  “I mean it.  You might not have got top grades but your marks were still good even though some of the subjects didn’t come naturally and you did all that around your swimming and Alan.” 

Gordon scuffed at the planks, his fingers absentmindedly attacking a stray splinter in the wood as the empty seat on his far side suddenly became very interesting.  Scott seemed to believe in him but he just couldn’t summon up that same faith in himself.  “But what if I fail?  I don’t think I can do it.”

There, he’d said it.  Ever since he’d been called in by his commanding officer and given the details of the posting the study element had been dragging him down like a millstone.  He’d realised pretty early on, even during selection, that he was the odd one out, underqualified compared to most officers.  What he hadn’t realised was that WASP would not only support him to gain a degree but it was assumed that he would be taking on this learning as a matter of course.  From that moment on the gnawing dread had been eating away at him.  He enjoyed the study topics and he’d proved himself worthy of the command element of the posting but instead of looking forward to the opportunity all he could think about was the impending failure because he couldn’t foresee any other outcome.

“Look at me, Gords.  You aren’t going to fail.  It’s a diploma of higher ed, right?” Gordon gave a slight nod of confirmation.  “That means it’s first year stuff and I know that when it comes to the ocean you’ve got that more than covered.  What you’re going to be missing is the general skills and for those you can always ask the rest of us for help.  John has written more scientific papers than is healthy, Virgil can generally spot any flaws in logic even if it’s not his subject and I’ve done so much Harvard referencing I could probably do it in my sleep.”

“Harvard?  But you went to Yale.”  

“Harvard referencing is how you say what books and papers you used to write your assignments.”

“See, this is what I’m talking about,” Gordon groaned, kicking out at the bench in front, “I don’t know any of this stuff.”

“It’s alright,” Scott slung an arm round Gordon’s shoulder, wishing there was some magic pill he could give his brother to dispel the self doubt.  Gone was the confident aquanaut, even the thought of returning to study had Gordon regressing to the kid who worried each term if his report card would meet the lofty ideals of the father who demanded so much.  “No one knows this stuff at the beginning and there is no shame in that.  Normally you would get a load of seminars at the start of your course but that’s going to be a bit tricky if you’re underwater.  I don’t know how it will work with you doing it through WASP but CalTech should give you some support and if they don’t then you’ve got three older brothers who have all been there.  One of us will always be available to talk you through it, not that I think you’ll need any help.”

“You really think I can do this?”  He pulled out of the hug and stared at his brother as though trying to gauge his honesty.  The way Scott was talking he made it sound so simple.  

“I’m sure you can.  But if you get stuck with anything don’t brood on it, just ask.”

“Yeah, I can really see that one going down well.”  Gordon rolled his eyes, remembering the last time he’d attempted to ask for homework help.  “John already thinks I’m an idiot.”

“No one thinks you’re an idiot, Gords.  I know John can be a bit...acerbic at times but he’s mellowed since he left Harvard.”  Scott made a mental note to have a quiet word with the would-be astronaut; for most things the word ‘can’t’ was just a challenge to Gordon, something to be proved wrong, but when it came to anything academic Gordon was evidently still plagued by crushing self-doubt.  The last thing he needed was for a disparaging comment from the family genius to send Gordon spiralling.  It was true John had been a lot more approachable since starting at Tracy College, living with Virgil and having Alan as a frequent visitor seemed to be grounding him more in family life, but he could still be a bit abrupt if you caught him at the wrong moment.

“If I do this can you promise me one thing?”

“What’s that?”

“Please don’t tell Dad, I really don’t need him breathing down my neck about grades.”

“Promise.  Dad won’t hear a word about it until you’ve got that certificate in your hand.”

The sigh of relief was audible in the still night air as Gordon released some of the tension that had been knotting his insides.  Sat there with Scott, being given assurances that his brothers would be on hand if he needed them, he felt a lot more confident about the whole thing.

[colour-outside-the-liness]

Hey, I'm doing good too. Just normal amounts of stressful stuff right now. Just moved to a country I've never been to before but can't complain, things are not as hard as the last time I did this so. Thanks for asking! Yeah, I saw you posting about some pretty scary health issues before, I'm glad you came out of that alive and hope you're healthier now!

The nerve some people have! Haha I know I would be pissed if people were questioning my intelligence like that especially after a couple of drinks in haha. Though I do like taunting people when I play group games, I'll be like "don't need to try that hard guys, you're gonna lose anyway" just to mess with them or just call people sore losers if they accuse me of cheating haha (they're probably right on the accusations tho). People get real mad sometimes it's kinda funny. 😂

Omg literally laughed out loud reading this! Hahaha, how did you manage to fall over a road sign then end up in a ditch? lol omg hope you didn't get hurt too bad 😂 I was trying to downplay my drunken escapades but since you shared yours I should tell you my worst one:

I was at this summer street party at night and got drunk on something made out of tropical herbs and cachaça (which is about 48% alcohol), drank 3 and a half bottles of that like it was apple juice, made friends with a bunch of strangers in a bathroom queue (who tried to talk to me weeks later but I had no idea who they were), had to be held by my best friend while I peed (mostly missing the toilet), fell in the middle of the street and scraped my knee, threatened this boy who was helping me walk and told him not to try anything funny or I would beat him up, then dragged my friends to the beach and left them shortly after to go make out with my ex, came back with lipstick all over my mouth and chin and when my friends asked what I was doing I said I was just talking to my ex and they were like NO YOU WERE NOT, hahaha then I kissed all my girl friends on a dare and we danced under the full moon, then I told my best friend I had to puke so she took me to the ocean but I changed my mind and happened to step on a dead turtle on the way back and started crying bc of it, but last month my best friend told me it was a rock I had stepped on (I believed it was a dead turtle for 7 years!). Had the worst hangover of my life the next day. ✌️✨

Ah I'm happy you liked it! I've never listened to Six musical before but it sounds fun! I can see why you like it haha made me want to dance around my apartment 💃. And hey if liking musicals is your thing then it's great, I'm sure Hozier will understand if he's not your top artist of the year. 😋 Here's my "damie" Pinterest board if you or anyone else wants to check it out, totally recommend making one if you're a visual person like me!

https://pin.it/UcHVlkq

Oh I could talk about Dani and Jamie forever I think. I love the beast in the jungle speech too and it's so painful to watch, VP delivered that beautifully, but I have to admit I'm always a crying mess from episode 1 when older Jamie starts reciting that song about being sad while waiting for her lover to return, this show is fucking cruel I hate it and love it at the same time hahaha. Omg your mom 😂 but I mean it's truly an honor to be compared to someone like Dani, no? She's really great even if she needs a little help haha (don't we all).

Aaah you're amazing! Thank you so much, I'll read this pirate AU soon!

I used to draw a lot, really loved doing it when I was a kid as I said before, and all throughout adulthood too but I haven't done that in almost a year now bc I've got a bit of a case of burnout I guess, it just takes a lot of effort to do it when it shouldn't be like that at all. I used to do fanart too, for other fandoms. Even made one for Dani x Jamie but ended up not liking how it turned out haha. I've got a lot of respect for writers and fanfic writers also! Yall can make words make sense in really interesting and beautiful ways, build worlds so enthralling I can see them vividly in my head. Writing is such an incredibly fascinating skill to have! And I guess the most important thing is that we enjoy doing these things right? Even if we think we're not particularly good at it.

Anyway, have a lovely weekend! 👋✨

Good I'm glad you're doing great but sorry you're dealing with stressful stuff!! Hope living in a new country goes well for you I'm so jealous that you've lived in different countries I'd love to live somewhere else even if just for s few years!! Awwh thank you so much I definitely came out of it alive and am feeling so much better now thank you I mean I do some pretty ditzy things so when people say it to me it's pretty deserved sometimes, I'm secretly smart and people just don't expect it so I never mind too much haha I might have to start saying the things that you do and just taunting them over it I mean, I usually do win even when they make me answer different questions so I will definitely have to start saying things like that to them Haha I love that you're just like "yeah they're probably right in their accusations" I agree seeing how mad some people get over games and stuff is funny (it's me I'm people I hate loosing games depending on what it is and I am very competitive) So it was very dark and all we had for light was my roommates flashlight on her phone but while we were walking home a friend of ours that lived else where kept texting her to make sure we were still safe (my phone as dead at this point) so while she was texting him her flashlight was facing down and someone had moved this road sign to the footpath and it was on that sits on the floor so while I couldn't see it I walked into it and fell over it but while I feel I grabbed hold of it and flipped with it and fell in a ditch with it on top of me... I was fine and was just laid laughing while my friend looked down at me and in the most northern accent ever just said "get up you dickhead." and helped me off of the floor and then asked if I was okay... and I was so it was all good!! Haha 😂 I love this drunken story that sounds like one hell of a night and is a roller coaster from start to finish!! I'm sorry you thought you had stood on a dead turtle for 7 years though, someone really should've told you that it was just a rock!! But that sounds like my kind of night!! I love nights like that... stories that will last a life time... the only down side is the hangover... luckily I have only ever had one hang over in my life and it wasn't the morning after the road sign fiasco... I felt surprisingly good the morning after that haha 😂 It's such a good musical it's about Henry VIII wives and I just love everything to do with his wives and that musical is so much fun and actually gives a little insight to the lives the six Tudor queens had away from Henry and with him because at school we're mainly just taught about him which sucks!! I loved the Hozier song and am definitely gonna have to listen to more of his stuff!! I love musicals so much I mainly listen to musical soundtracks at the minute- usually, Legally Blonde and Six on repeat haha 😂 Ooo thank you I will definitely check out this Pinterest board thanks for sending it to me!! I could talk about them forever too... since watching Bly Manor my niece has been asking me so many questions about it and I am more than happy to talk to her about it haha!! The beast in the jungle speech just breaks my heart every time I relate to it so much and VP just delivers it so beautifully!! Oh yeah now I know at the beginning that it's older Jamie I am just a wreck the whole show is just so beautiful and heart breaking at the same time I LOVE IT!! Even though it makes me sob- I keep putting myself through it!! I mean, yeah I was happy that she said it Dani is great but it was the way she said it... my mum can be something else sometimes... she said she thought Dani was like me the first time she does the accent when she says "I've fallen quite in love with London" because I just randomly do accents a lot too but it was the way she was like "She needs help... but I like her she reminds me of you" I was just like... "Should I go get help?" I still don't know the answer to my question about if I need help or not but I mean I probably do need it You're welcome I really hope you like it!! It's a

great fic I love it!! Yeah I get that if stuff starts taking too much effort and burns you out you're not gonna wanna keep doing it so it's understandable that you stopped!! I think fan art is great and I really would love to be able to do it myself but I just don't have the skill it takes!! Awwh it's a shame you didn't like the Dani x Jamie one you did I would've loved to have seen it!! Honestly there are so many talented writers out there and when I read their fics I am just in awe of the worlds they have built and the stories they have created we are so blessed in this fandom to have so many amazing writers and so many amazing fics out there Oh yeah definitely its important to enjoy what you do!! I know I love writing and love writing fics for Dani and Jamie so I think I'll be doing it for a while even if I'm not great at it haha Awwh thank you very much I hope you have a great weekend too!! ☺️

[purplesurveys]

1010

survey from diggitydoo

Have you ever felt a baby kick? Yes, when my mom was pregnant with my brother. What color pants/shorts are you wearing? I’m only wearing a duster gown; no shorts underneath. I just got it last night, actually - my mom wanted to donate clothes to victims of a recent fire incident in Manila and so she asked my sister and I to sort through our closets for clothes we were willing to give away. My sister ended up giving away a comfy-looking duster gown that she never even wore and even smelled brand new to boot. It ended up in my hands, ha. But apart from that we gave away a lot of stuff that aren’t old uniforms or costumes (which is what most people tend to ‘donate’, ugh), so we just hope they end up with people who really need them. When is the last time you did something truly fun, and what was it? Last night I went on our org’s Discord server and we played Jackbox games for around an hour or so. It was my first time to socialize again after around two months and I really, really needed that moment. I even met the org’s newest roster of applicants for this semester, which was neat. :) What was the scariest moment of your life? Men terrorizing me or near-car crashes I’ve had.

Have you ever heard of Leonard Cohen? The name is familiar, but that’s the most I know.

Pancakes or flapjacks? I guess pancakes, since I don’t even know what flapjacks are. What kind of computer are you on? It’s a laptop. Do you eat Chinese food? If so, what's your favorite dish? For sure. Pork buns or minced pork with eggplant. With century egg on the side, yum. What are you usually doing at midnight? Either passed out or desperately trying to sleep because I don’t want to lose any more hours of sleep and risk being cranky for the whole of the next day. Have you ever developed feelings for a friend, but you were already with someone? No. The worst thing that’s happened was being someone’s ball date (and unbeknownst to me, they apparently had feelings for me at the time) while I was already with someone. If so, how did it turn out? He figured it out by himself, which I still feel bad about. But the timing was super off and I just couldn’t find a moment to sit him down and set the record straight...ah well. It was just super complicated at the time. Give me your brief definition of love. My favorite love-related quote is “Love never says ‘I have done enough’” and for the longest time, that has been my guiding principle when it comes to it. Definitely a tad bit cheesy, but telling myself that over and over makes it easier to continue loving the people I care for and be patient with them when they’re being asses. Gab included, then and now. What is the most beautiful part of the human body, male or female? It differs for everyone but I’m a thigh girl through and through. What kind of shoes do you wear? Uh...various ones? I have sneakers, flats, heels, flip-flops, probably a couple more kinds that I can’t place at the moment. What is the worst thing you've ever done when you were really angry? Resorting to physical violence. I was a kid constantly exposed to violence in my old home, and at the time I genuinely thought that’s how most things were settled or pacified. I still feel like shit about it to this day, and my backstory isn’t an excuse at all; but the past is the past and I’ve been trying to make up for it by being a much more gentle angry person in the last few years. Are there any pills you take on a daily basis? If so, what? Nope. Do you like the smell of coconuts? For some reason I can’t stand anything coconut (which is a damn shame considering I’m Filipino) but I love dishes with heaps of coconut milk in them, like curry. That’s the one coconut-related thing I enjoy, but otherwise I’ve never learned to appreciate the taste and smell of buko juice, coconut shavings, coconut pies, and everything else coconut. What is the heaviest you think you can lift? From what my old PE class showed me, around 70 to 80 lbs. Do you take Tums? Idk what that is so I guess I don’t. Have you ever walked on a pier at the beach? I’m not sure if I’ve been to a pier before. I bet it feels wonderful and freeing and I’d love to visit one; but I also can’t keep myself from associating piers with the recurring image of Jennifer Connelly’s character standing on one from Requiem for a Dream. How about under one? No. At what age do you first remember feeling butterflies in your stomach around someone? Not sure if it was 11 or 12, but it was definitely one of those years. Do you feel that way around anyone now? Yeah, if they allowed me to see them. But I’m shut out now so I haven’t had that sensation in a while.

Do you ever talk to yourself or think deep thoughts while on the toilet? No. Do you ever sing to yourself? Sure. I’m sure most people do every once in a while. What is a sound that relaxes you? Ocean waves have never failed. How hard has it been to reach your main goal in life? ‘Main goal’ sounds so overwhelming; I make it a point to avoid one overarching goal and instead make little goals and plans here and there depending on where I am in life. Do you remember the song about hoes in different area codes? Never heard of it. What is your main heritage? Filipino. What kind of pickles do you prefer, if you like pickles? I hate pickles. What kind of cheese do you prefer, if you like cheese? Mozzarella and feta are my faves, but I love cheese and am willing to be adventurous when it comes to it. If you could have a sea creature as a pet, what would you want? Eh, they can stay in the sea where they can actually survive. I don’t exactly have the best track record when it comes to keeping fish as pets. How about a farm animal? Probably pig. So, do you have hoes in different area codes? No, and ew. What is the most annoying song you can think of that came out recently? Haven’t been exposed to a lot of new music lately and the songs I do get to hear on the radio whenever I drive are actually pretty good. This totally doesn’t answer your question but my favorites so far have been Birthday by Disclosure, Kehlani, and Syd; and Plain by Benee, Lily Allen, and Flo Milli. What is a song that you hate to admit you like? Any Kanye song I like. What inspires you to get off your bum and do something productive? Not wanting to go into another downward spiral. Do you ever use Urban Dictionary? Extremely rarely. I only do when there’s a new slang I’m completely unfamiliar with. Do you find the definitions on there to be generally funny or stupid? Stupid for the most part. I find them too immature or vulgar, but that’s one of the points of the website so I guess I’m just not in their target audience lol. What comes to your mind when you hear the word 'transformation'? Uh, the Transformer robots.

What was something you regularly played with as a child? My cousins’ toy soldiers.

Have you ever given in to peer pressure? Eh, a few times. If so, what did you do? I’ve been pulled to drinking sessions here and there when I really shouldn’t be drinking because I had an important test tomorrow or something else was happening the next day that was just as significant. What part of your body have you had the most problems with in your life? Teeth, I’m pretty sure. I’ve had braces, needed a tooth extracted, gotten a cavity, and gone through a severe toothache.

Do a lot of people check you out when you're in public? Idk I never look around because being aware of it would just freak me out and make me feel like I’m naked. What is a good name for a turtle? Would depend on their personality. And this applies to all kinds of pets, at least for me. I don’t decide on their names until I have a good grasp of their attitude. Can you imitate any accents well? If so, which one(s)? Stereotypical Filipino mom and valley girl. Do you like having your ear nibbled on? Sure. What makes a good kisser a good kisser? I’ve only kissed one person so I’m not the best judge for this; but I always like it when my lower lip is tugged or grazed on. How many times a year do you have a family thing? This is a little vague for me. Do you mean get-togethers? Giant-ass reunions? Movie nights? Game nights?  What are the best things to put in a smoothie? I only like one kind of smoothie and it’s sold by a local joint – and I think I’ve already shared this before but that smoothie of theirs that I like has “apple, banana, cinnamon, oats, coco sugar, chia seeds, greens, and soy milk,” according to their menu. So I guess those are the best ingredients for me, ha. Do you ever eat with your eyes closed and just focus on the taste? When I find something extremely delicious, yeah. What do you dislike most about where you live right now? For the most part I can’t wait to get out of suburban residential villages. I’d love to finally experience living in a condo in a super busy and active city. Has anyone ever given you a rose/roses? Yes.

Are you watching your weight? Not really. I’m trying to gain pounds though, if anything. I haven’t eaten much in the last two months. Have you ever become really good friends with someone you found online? I trust y’all with my life, so that’s one. Apart from Tumblr, the best friends I made were probably the people in the AJ/Punk fandom, back when I had a stan account on Twitter. I don’t remember most of their names now and we fizzled out pretty quickly when both parts of the ship left WWE, but I look back on that period with fondness. Those people made high school a lot easier for me. What makes your best friend your best friend? She doesn’t care whether I’m on top of the world with happiness or completely self-destructive and crying my eyes out; she has always been present. Do you have a drunk uncle? *rolls eyes* We don’t wanna open up that can of worms... Do you hear weird noises in your house at night? Nope. What is something you do that is generally more like something the opposite sex does? Based on personal experience and not to come off as sexist, but it’s liking wrestling. I have never met a girl in real life who has even the most remote interest in pro wrestling or can tell me who Hulk Hogan is. And the ones I’ve had discussions with - from shallow/casual to in-depth - have all been guys. Seeing girls who are into wrestling is like finding a rare Pokemon, at least in real life. What is the girliest thing you do, if you're a girl? Idk. What is the coolest tattoo you've ever seen? Probably the spork tattoo of Josh, a crew member from Good Mythical Morning. It’s just a line tattoo. Of a spork. On his arm. But he managed to make it so goddamn fascinating lmao; and apparently, as I learned just now, it has a pretty touching backstory to it too, which makes it a million times cooler. Have you ever created anything artistic that you're proud of? If so, what? I’ve never finished any of the crafts I bought. Never finished a coloring book page much less an entire coloring book, a painting, a gem painting...it’s something I’ll have to bring my butt to do one of these days. I can’t imagine how fulfilling it would feel. Do you only eat the middle of the oreo, if you eat oreos? I eat the whole thing but I honestly find Oreos too sweet and I’ve always much rather preferred Oreo-flavored stuff instead of the actual cookies.

Do you know anyone with a huge ego? My mom. If so, is there anything else about them you actually like? She’s fed me for 22 years and gave me an education, I guess. Though it’s something I appreciate more so than like. Have you ever used a racial slur, even jokingly? Probably as a dumb kid, when historical context wasn’t a thing to me yet. I still wince thinking about it, but I suppose what matters is being better and more responsible moving forward. Do you have any friends who are more like siblings to you? Angela and to some extent Andi. 

If so, what about them do you like most? They are both understanding when it comes to me - almost to a fault. What do you like on your hotdogs, if you eat hotdogs? When you say ‘hotdogs’ here, it refers to the sausages itself. The sandwich kind of hotdog isn’t super popular here. What is everyone else in your house doing right now? My siblings are still resting in their rooms; my dad is preparing for work, I think. What is the most money you've ever had at one time? Something like P10,000 or P15,000 when my mom needed me to pay for something in cash. How long do you think it would take you to run a mile? Idk, maybe 10 minutes. I won’t be fast, that’s for sure. Look down. What do you see? My legs and the pillow I’m sitting on. What is a subject that makes you uncomfortable? Right now, probably my failed relationship. I haven’t gotten to the sharing stage yet and remotely thinking about it gets my voice all shaky. What is a subject you can talk on and on about and not get sick of it? Paramore. What kind of mood were you in most of today? It’s only 7:52 AM. My only mood so far is just woke up. Has anyone ever walked in on you naked? Yeah. Because people in this damn house never knock. Tell me an inside joke you have with someone. The word ‘ariba.’ What is the worst thing someone could do to you emotionally? Break my trust. So simple but it packs a punch. What is the worst thing you've ever done to someone emotionally? Idk if I’ve ever been that aggressive. When I want to do something destructive towards someone I always end up asking what it would feel like if the action was done to me, and it’s always been enough to sway me away from doing the thing. How do you feel now about the first person you ever dated? Sad. How about the last person (your last ex)? Same person. What is the best invention ever invented? Air conditioners.

What is something that needs to be invented? Portable air conditioners. What always makes you burp? My burps come randomly. What are you doing tomorrow? It’s my last weekend before my new job, soooooooo...I’ll be bumming around for my last two days of freedom.

[jo-kuron]

( LANA CONDOR, CISFEMALE, SHE/HER, VIRGO, 25 ) I just spotted JOSEPHINE KURON at the beach today. Don’t you know them? They live down by the TOWERS and usually hang out with the RICH KIDS cliques. From what I’ve heard, they can be CONTROLLING, but they’re also DETERMINED. I always think of them when i hear JUST LIKE MAGIC by ARIANA GRANDE and tend to associate them with parchment paper on a cookie sheet at 3AM, a worn copy of wuthering heights for annotations, sunglasses covering bags under sleep deprived eyes . ( bree, she.her, 21, est )

HI EVERYONE! So, this is one of my fave muses, Jo. She is an amazing and complex female who will constantly amaze, I PROMISE. This is mostly her backbone, there’s more headcanons to follow!

BASIC CHARACTER QUESTIONS

Full Name: Josephine Avila Kuron

nicknames: Josie, Jojo, Jo, Superstar, Dreamer

date of birth: September 20, 1995

age: Twenty Five

Star Sign: Virgo

Chinese Zodiac: Rat

PHYSICAL / APPEARANCE

hair style? Typically seen with a half-up do.

glasses or contact lenses? Black Tortoise shelled frames from time to time.

scars or birthmarks? a birthmark of a crown sits on the front of her right ankle.

tattoos? A small silhouette of her ex dancing, specifically a jump mid-air.  

physical or mental handicaps? Dyslexia.

type of clothes? Typically in Alternative clothing. Lots of ripped jeans and pleated skirts.

mannerisms? When nervous, Jo will tug at her sleeves or excessively push her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

PERSONALITY

are they more optimistic or pessimistic? Pessimistic now, the past self was optimistic.

are they introverted or extroverted? Introverted Extrovert.

do they ever put on airs? Sometimes, if she feels intimidated.

what bad habits do they have? Nail biting, and joint cracking.

what makes them laugh out loud? Silly dad jokes and situational humor.

how do they display affection? Gifting small items.

how do they want to be seen by others? Strong and put together.

how do they see themselves? Weak and a mess, irredeemable.

strongest character trait? Trusting

weakest character trait? Controlling

how competitive are they? Very, she loves a challenge.

do they make snap judgements or take time to consider? She takes time to consider the majority of the time, but she will make a quick decision from time to time.

PAST AND FUTURE

Jo was a miracle baby, she was her parents fifth time trying for a child. It wasn’t for lack of pregnancy, her mother couldn’t carry all the way through term. After Josephine took her first breath, nearly every breath after that  was in the vicinity of her mother. Although most kid would’ve hated that, Jo found it comforting. She was very nurtured. After her birth, Jo’s mother became a stay at home mom. This often led to her feeling like it would teeter on the side of helicopter parenting from time to time. However, the extra time with her mother led her to find her love of reading and writing.As a child Jo was a huge teacher's pet.  She always loved the idea of learning, no matter who or what was teaching her. Even when she hit the age of nine and learning became hard for her, she still enjoyed someone looking out for her and trying to help her be her best self.

Even though she overcame her disability, she shies away from compliments. She finds herself undeserving of them, and openly welcomes criticism. She knows that she isn’t perfect, but she wants to work on being the best version of herself she could be.

She grew up thinking she was poor, but her parents were actually well off because they never wanted her to grow up thinking that money made anyone better than anyone else.

All she wanted was to get into college to make her parents proud of her. Yes, she could’ve done anything and got their approval, but she wanted their approval to mean something. So she worked as hard as she could to get into the top education program in the nation. She wanted to pay the experience she had in school forward. She was on her way home to tell her parents that she had did something that would actually make them proud, her mother called her and told her the terrible news. Her father had a heart attack and didn’t make it to the hospital. She was ready to drop all of her plans to be with her mother and just do school at a local college. However, once her mother found out that she had gotten the scholarship she worked so hard for, her mother demanded that she went to Yates. That’s how she ended up on the green slopes of campus her freshman year of college.

TL;DR: JO WAS A MIRACLE BABY THAT WANTED TO BE A TEACHER HER WHOLE LIFE. SHE ALMOST DIDN’T GO TO COLLEGE BECAUSE SHE WANTED TO TAKE CARE OF HER MOTHER AFTER HER FATHER’S DEATH BUT HER MOM WOULDN’T LET HER GIVE UP ON ONE OF HER DREAMS.

LOVE

do they believe in love at first sight? Yes.

are they in a relationship? No.

how do they behave in a relationship? She likes to keep everyone at a distance except her significant other. She treats them like her best friend, and more often than not they are. She loves to have a friendly relationship so she doesn’t feel like she’s a totally different person in love.

has your character ever been in love? Yes.

have they ever had their heart broken? Yes.

what is their sexual orientation? Bisexual.

FAVOURITES

what is their favourite animal? Koala

what place would they most like to visit? Pasadena, California

what is the most beautiful thing they’ve ever seen? The sunset in New York City. Her ex-boyfriend

what is their favourite song? Heebiejeebies by Amine

music, art, reading preferred? She prefers YA novels, loves Musicals, and isn’t the biggest fan of literal art. She just likes to look at pretty things.

what is their favourite color? She loved the color black for the longest, but now her favorite color is a sky blue.

favourite food: She loves all types of Italian food.

what is their favourite day of the week? Tuesday.

POSSESSIONS

what is in their fridge: She always keeps Apple juice and water bottles in her fridge to drink and enough random snacks to make it look healthy even though she has a stash of chips in the pantry

what is on their bedside table? She keeps a candle and wireless phone charger that looks like a glowing rune when her phone is charging.

what is in their car? She always keeps back ups to all of her bathroom items in her trunk. If you think about it, she has it in there. In her center console she keeps napkins, a reusable straw set, and a few pairs of chopsticks. In her glove compartment she has an extensive rotating collection of cds. She likes the nostalgic feeling.

what is in their purse? She keeps her debit cards, an old photo of her ex, a packet of tissues, headphones, an emergency twenty dollar bill, and a few packs of salt and pepper in a small pouch.

what is in their pockets? Her phone or her headphones

what is their most treasured possession? Her locket.

DAILY LIFE

what are their eating habits? Typically whatever is easily accessed. If it takes longer than an hour to cook, she probably won’t make it.

are they minimalist or a clutter hoarder? She would like to believe she’s a minimalist, but her closet would say otherwise.

what do they do first thing on a weekday morning? Make a cup of coffee and read a book on her kindle.

what do they do on a sunday afternoon? Yoga while their roommate watches.

what do they do on a friday night? Either hangout with her friends or play board games while getting drunk with her roommate.

what is the soft drink of choice? Dr. Pepper

what is their alcoholic drink of choice? Tito’s and crystal light. Old Fashioned

what does she do for work? An English Teacher to GED students. A Cam Girl.

[bigskydreaming]

I was about to say, I can't see Jason letting his guard down as much as intoxication would. I CAN see Jason drinking apple juice and pretending to be drunk. (Funny how I can remember Dick drinking, never more than one or two drinks, and Jason refusing wine, but the fanfic writers get it al wrong.)

Yeah, tbh, I don’t really see any of the Batkids ever being or becoming even casual drinkers. They all value control too much, and have too much experience with mind and mood-altering substances for it to be appealing to them in my personal opinion. 

Just my personal headcanon is like, they tend to treat drinking as like, another skill to acquire. They try it to maybe just have enough experience with it that they can fake it undercover and know what they’re doing, or that if they end up in a situation where they have to take at least a quick drink to sell their cover like, they’re not going to be totally blind-sided by the taste or sensation, especially because most of their reputations don’t or aren’t likely to lend themselves to being completely unfamiliar with alcohol. And maybe they occasionally make an point to build up a tolerance in case for some reason they need it, but I honestly can’t really ever buy any of them as casual drinkers.

I mean, I focus a lot on Dick’s times brainwashed or under someone else’s control, and also his rigid insistence on self-determination in his life, and I just can’t honestly see any mindset where he’s like yes, lowering my inhibitions and lessening my ability to be in control of myself is exactly what I’m looking for. Its kinda like how I drastically disagree with takes on him as submissive in any kind of dom/sub fic, lol. Its not about the partner, its about the fact that Dick isn’t the kind of control freak who looks for opportunities to take a break from the stresses of holding such an iron control over his self.....rather, IMO, Dick is that way BECAUSE of how often he’s had virtually NO control of himself or what happens to him, and how much that always....sucks for him. 

He tries to maintain self-control and control stuff in his life wherever and whenever he can because he’s not about to lose any of the basically rare opportunities to not HAVE to push back against someone else’s will or expectations for him, where he can just be uncontested in being in charge of his autonomy and own destiny. And I honestly have never seen anything in his character that suggests he’d ever remotely be looking for or welcome to opportunities to basically just....willingly hand over the control of himself that he fights soooo damn hard to obtain and maintain....because when has that EVER ended well for him, you know? So I just....don’t buy sub Dick and never have, and I don’t buy Dick as a casual drinker even, for pretty much the same exact reasons.

Jason I see as a bit more complicated, because of a couple factors. First, there’s the presence of drugs and alcohol in his early life and how much that affected his life as just a bystander, essentially. And its not like every child of an alcoholic parent grows up to be hostile to alcohol, etc. But in Jason’s case I feel that he would be, like he’d almost personify drugs and alcohols as an actual antagonist in his life that have made him suffer, been the actual enemy that prevented him from having a real go at a family with his first parents. And thus he’d just be viciously opposed to them in their entirety, like even as a expansive, nebulous concept of them and everything related to them. Which would also play into things like his insistence that drug dealers in Gotham not sell to kids, etc.

Also, there’s the fact that Jason kinda ended up with....gap years in his development, where the normal linear timeline of developing as a teenager was derailed by his death and then supplanted by a very unorthodox later development that was guided by assassins and influenced by an external-turned-internal force that had a definite influence on his emotions and thought patterns at times. So Jason kinda missed out on a number of years where he could have potentially worked through a lot of his childhood issues with abuse, his parents and drugs and alcohol to a degree further than he did in canon, but just......never got the opportunity to. So it was like....hitting pause on all of that and then unpause when he actually came back to Gotham and rejoined society in his own way, as that put him around these kinds of things again and forced an internal confrontation with how he felt about them now.

And then there’s also the matter of the Pit itself.....much like Dick, but in entirely different ways, Jason has been extremely impacted by things that are not his fault or choosing, that originate OUTSIDE of him and end up controlling or influencing him internally, again through no choice of his own.....and thus, same as Dick, I don’t see how any substance that lessened his control over himself during the times he actually HAS it, would like....remotely appeal to him.

But then again on the other hand, I do think Jason is very self-destructive at times, not more so than Dick, as he can be very self-destructive as well, but just in different ways. Like, Dick IMO is someone who self-destructs quietly and over time. Suffering in silence, not availing himself of any of the opportunities he has to get help from others in various matters because he either doesn’t trust that they’ll prioritize him or he doesn’t feel that he deserves to be, or a combination of both. Jason, IMO, is neither innately more self-destructive or less, its just that....his tendency towards self-destruction manifests pretty explosively, like, in singular burning bright kind of instances that flare up, are just colossally bad decisions that he very quickly regrets, but then die back down and leave him cleaning up the aftermath, but at least having gotten whatever caused that particular turn towards self-destruction like, kinda out of his system.

So his means of self-destruction tend to just be LOUDER, and more.....in your face...but they also come and go more quickly, IMO. And one of those are pretty much the only time or reason I can see for him ever engaging in drinking or voluntarily giving up control.....like, the appeal specifically is a kind of self-punishment, and thus makes for an ideal weapon of choice at least once.....BUT again, the caveat there is like I said, I view Jason as someone who cycles through periods of self-destruction, but then he like...moves past it (or at least on a surface level, like, he FEELS like he has, though the initial problem often stil remains under the surface). But the point is, I think he regrets these instances of self-destruction soon after they happen....and I also think he’s someone who believes very strongly in not making the same mistakes twice. 

Like, he knows not to take things for granted better than anyone. Shit doesn’t go according to plan, my personal headcanon for him is his ideal followup is the immediate realization well, that didn’t work, time for something completely different....and then he does something completely different in the hopes of getting closer to his actual desired result. So I could see him doing something like getting black out drunk, etc, as one of these bouts of self-destruction....but the key in my mind, is I could only see him doing that ONCE. Once he’d done it and regretted it, it’d be crystallized in his mind as a Mistake and like, nope, not doing that again. Even when having another tendency towards self-destruction at a later date....I think he’d do it in a different way.

Also, I’ve never bought Jason as a smoker, like, I could see him faking it for The Mood or whatever, lol, but like.......this is a kid who grew up malnourished and thus had to take on criminals as a very under-sized Robin. He comes back after the Pit like, over six feet tall and well-oiled muscle that makes it SO much easier to kick ass as a vigilante? Why the FUCK would he ever screw that up by messing with his lungs or anything else, you know? If anything, I see Jason as being like, as much a ‘my body is my temple’ kind of guy as Dick is, just for different reasons.

I’ve always said I see Dick and Jason having a lot more in common than they’re usually credited with, and all of this is a huge part of why. They both just have HUGE issues with control in regards to themselves and their lives, and just being able to HAVE it and to take advantage of it, do what THEY want to do rather than constantly being moved about by the whims of others and having to always adjust or adapt to whatever everyone else was doing or the box they were being forced in by situations, etc. They’ve BEEN without control, self-autonomy, in ways and to degrees most people couldn’t imagine, so, like....its IMO more likely to be that much more precious and valuable to them than it is even to most people? Like, these are two men who I don’t see ever giving it up without a fight, and thus, they’re just like.....I’m gonna hard pass on the alcohol, etc.

And its got nothing to do with judgment on their part, I don’t think, like, other than the fact that they can’t personally relate to seeing the appeal. Its just the end result of lowered inhibitions/loss of self control or autonomy that they’re like...yeah, that’s what we’re not on board with, thanks but no thanks. Not for us.

I don’t have as strong of headcanons about the other kids just because they’re either too young or it just doesn’t come up as much, such as with Cass (though you can probably guess my headcanon for Cass there given that I talk about the similarities ALL three of the eldest Wayne kids share in a lot of ways, lol) but honestly I think it’d be more of the same with all of them, even if not always for quite the same reasons or quite as strong of reasons. Like, they’ve all been raised with too much reason to value self-control and too little cause to see lowered inhibitions as appealing, so the Batfam as a whole I personally headcanon as being nah, we get our highs from adrenaline and being weird as fuck, thanks though.

[achieveandhunt]

live typing extra life 2019

warning: this a fucking LONG post. if you plan on reading it all, godspeed.

i typed all of this as it was happening on stream so this gets progressively less coherent as i grow more sleep deprived. prepare yourselves. i may or may not go off topic at some points

larry vehemently vomiting pure malic acid. we’re off to a great start

what the fuck the soggy ass popcorn in that ranch jesus christ

lindsay in the song from AH the musical. i love her so much

jeremy going YAAAAAAY after someone eats a cursed oreo

matt getting AGGRESSIVELY kissed by larry

“this kiss this kiss” before geoff and jack kiss

geoff “i’m from alabama” ramsey

THIS FUCKING RANCH SEGMENT HAS ME GAGGING

jeremy “the alcohol demon the whiskey goblin” dooley

alfredo “you wont believe what the white people did today” diaz

DUSK BOYS DUSK BOYS DUSK BOYS GET THAT DICK ESSENCE

wait why does it sound like wonderwall

they look like characters from the matrix

the speaking parts. make my teeth hurt

in conclusion: they weren’t kidding abt the tight pants 

okay everyone get ready for eric soundboard spamming YEAH BABEY

“hi i’m from broadcast and i don’t want to be here” they represent themselves well

also, let’s take a second to appreciate broadcast here!! they have a really tough job and don’t get a ton of credit. lots of love to all of broadcast!!! you guys are awesome

i am: foreseeing problems with this eric sound board

which one is eric?? will the real eric please stand up?? was the real eric the one we found along the way??

“i’m... just really worried that i won’t ever find love-” “i really don’t care”

WHY DO THEY HAVE THAT ON THE SOUNDBOARD (what does that apply to? whatever it is you’re thinking of, but mostly “daddy wants some”)

ooh someone’s about to get a fReE tongue piercing from a pineapple

god dammit i went to the bathroom for thirty seconds and now they’re eating chad’s chest hair

owie the shock collar and belly slap look painful, but drinking natty light from a shoe? that’s a true punishment

“and this roast was brought to you by meundies”

ah yes what better way is there to end a segment than people throwing up

“man action” oh no

THROBERT MULVEINY

K A R B is blind in T W O of her eyes

“my last name is cottagecheese”

I HAVE A PIECE OF METAL SHOVED UP MY A S S 

chris has somehow managed to lose 23 years of age and roughly 412 pounds

“just open throat like baby bird” who the fuck is writing this and why is it jeremy

jon. jon you’re breathing in adam’s ass fumes

a summary of this segment: ass and cottage cheese

BARB IS HERE I REPEAT BARB IS HERE

“to fitness” -starts choking-

final fitness coach: tad, here to workout your issues so they can beat you into submission

“will you buy my wet” well i don’t see that on the raffle items

we’re back folks & i’m loving this walk around segment

moonball wall and gavin&michael will soon be reunited can we get an F in the chat

jeremy getting a borderlands tattoo is very on brand

what’s extra life without a little satan

“starvation army, putting lead back into paint, increasing childhood obesity” people in chat: TAKE MY MONEY

chris “i’m doing a different hole” demarais

ah yes. the game we all play in hell: twister

nobody edit chris getting mustard shot down his throat. i’m scarred enough from the original clip

oh fuck. oh god. the mayo. oh god what the fuck is up with the misuse of condiments this year

this just in: a human soul costs roughly $12,700

D̷̯͑̆̈́͝Õ̸̲͎̥̬͈̬̙͕̲G̸̢̧̠͉͚̙̲̙̓̔̀̇S̷̥̀́͆̈́̇̀ ̶̣̞̗͚̬̭̖̦͇̈́̎̈́̿̓̈́͆̒̋D̷̙̟̩̫͉̺̐̊̚Ö̶̥́̋́̓ͅĜ̵̞̌͋̏̉̌̕͝͝S̵̤̹̣̫̮̻͛̍̑̕͝͝ ̷̧̨̞̙̥̟̜͍̉̍̑̏̇̀̾D̴̻̮̩̯͓͉̖͎̘͐̒͋̓̉͝ͅỎ̶̰͓̳̥͑̅͛͊̒͐͊͘̚G̵̩̻̦̥̠̃̔Ş̶̹͚̩̱͖̀͆͘ ̸̢̢͇̻͔̗̺̼͖̱̏̾̔̚D̴̨̨̫̙̃̾̋̾̆̓̓Ớ̷̡͓͎͊G̶̱̣̣̰̝̖̰̗̓͐̐̊͋̀͊̀̕͝Ş̷̩̺̬̖͙̺̟͗̈́͒͗̀̑́́̕͠ ̷̡͈̼̲͈̳̫̺̝̈́̋͌͗̒ͅD̸̨̬̞̪̗̘̄̑͆̿̈́͘͠͝O̸̡̡͇͕̻͎͍͉̅̌͗̄͌̑̉̔͂̎Ḡ̸͙̟̪̞̬̬͕͐̈̏S̶̝̪̼̮̠̜̭̳͖̘̑

urine: to help with aerodynamics

jon: maya, speak! maya: *the smallest arwoo*

today’s mvp: any dog. pick one. no matter which you pick, you’re right

how the fuck did blaine change back from satan so quickly

barb as a cat is... my new sleep paralysis demon

blaine: barbara speak! barbara: climate change is real

#dogsforkids

this just in: extra life killed my wifi

we’re back & kdin is in the business of killing people with spice. she is the spice queen

queue six thousand well-timed 1337 donations

HOLY SHIT THAT’S COLIN FROM WHOSE LINE IS IT ANYWAY

hmm “questionable liquids” is very... questionable

trevor: oh there’s four of them! we all get to join in the Fuckkkk

“what’s your favorite kind of candy” “any meat”

i like pickles and i would rather rip my eyebrows off than drink the juice so i feel for trevor

the only thing worse than drinking apple cider vinegar is shooting it out of your nose

“can you feel the love tonight” “i used to and that’s the problem”

“flubs every word man” damn, really missed the chance to say captain hair

jeremy not being able to intentionally flub his words is so fucking funny

OK BOOMER 

wow i can feel my blood pressure spike just watching these shots

Xavier Woods is here and he wants to know if it’s Christmas

miles doesn’t know what a question is

WHERE’S YOUR HAIR

oh no. oh no helping hands is next. everyone clear a splash zone

CHEF MIKE CHEF MIKE CHEF MIKE

miles bossing around chef mike is priceless

“you leave that fucking dough on the floor”

“you wanna slam your hands down on the table” *pizza sauce goes flying everywhere*

HOEDOWN HOEDOWN HOEDOWN jesus why do i keep doing that

“If Colin Mochrie is listening, I’ll see you here next year” OH FUCK YEAH

--- this is when i take a break so my soul can return to my body (aka i have work to turn in. college will never not be a pain in my ass) ---

oh god dammit i missed all of Always Open. fuck college who needs a medical degree

so... we have some very interesting things happening in family feud and i’m not sure if i like any of them

hmm. is now the time to get drunk

oily twist feels very... ominous

what do you mean you don’t remember gandalf having a taser in lord of the rings?

someone in the chat said “big stupid sleeping thing is what my parents called me in high school”

i think i’m blacking out what’s going on i don’t remember the past two hours

ah yes. voldemort and snape having a talk show together sounds exactly like something J.K. Rowling would make a spinoff book or show or porno of

can we just talk about how much shit chris has been doing this year? what a guy. what a dude

“coldy with voldy” actually means getting knocked the fuck out cold because you only got three hours of sleep last night and you don’t want to miss chef mike and lindsay cooking

this snape poem is summarized by one phrase: “that was terrible sit the fuck down” (sorry chris)

“let’s destroy a weasley” enter chad

fucking called it

“you smell poor” i need a caffeine drip

heh the wheel spins are at 69 heh nice

i’m a grown ass woman

welcome to a section called: we torture chad for your entertainment

“who wants us to kill weasley?” *massive cheers from the audience*

“wait weasley step away from the wideshot so i can masturbate to this later”

“i’m not gonna rub my eye mom”

oh they’re really gonna kill chad on stream huh

i felt that chest slap in my soul

i think i felt my own ribs crack

oh fucking

tumblr deleted my thoughts on the fanfic section

alright. fine. brief summary: my teeth are burning

my mom lindsay is on next and i’m so excited but i’m nearing the point of loopiness so things will go downhill dramatically from here

this is my fucking fourth extra life, you would think i’d be smart enough to sleep the night before

LINDSAY LINDSAY LINDSAY THAT’S MY MOM

JEREMY JEREMY JERE- wait a second... did jeremy get taller

oH CHEF MIKE CHEF MIKE CHEF MIKE

i hope Xavier comes back next year because he’s funny as fuck

m y a t t

oh god the mcdonald’s shade i’m rolling

lindsay “who’s the chef here” jones

chef mike mentioned mayo and i involuntarily gagged

chef mike clowning the big mac. i’m crying

he made the right choice with ryan bc i’ve seen his cooking stream(s) and it’s nothing if not great content

i heARD A MICHAEL JONES

“lindsay you haven’t done anything but warm up cookies so far” “yeah and?? you’re welcome”

you know that classic snack. slightly warm oreos

JEREMY THE LIQUOR GOBLIN DOOLEY IS BACK

oh god him screeching across set is making me cry laughing

why does it remind me of trevor’s voice cracks in the one minecraft ep where they’re singing the lion king

the biggest spoon for the smallest shot glass

i just realized we’re not even halfway through yet and i’m scared for the length of this list i’m gonna end up falling asleep involuntarily at some point

lindsay no your teeth are going to errode from that shot in your mouth

well timed leet donation #1829495

this gorden ramsey bit is so fucking good

jack: what do you think of the arugala? matt: i don’t even know what you said

iT’s NoT jUsT tWo CoOkIeS miCHeAL

jeremy and michael just chillin amidst the choas is exactly my demeanor at any party i’ve ever been to

lindsay scores: ryan = 7 because diet coke, matt = still eating lindsay’s meal so it’s a 10, xavier = also still eating it so it’s an 8. total: 25

“deep fry everything but a remote control”

chef mike scores: ryan = 9 for no death, matt = greens are present, words were said, score is 8. xavier = Gourmet Mcdonald’s, food is edible, score is 8. total: 25

oh fuck it’s a tie

now they fight to the death. death = doing as many shots as possible

i think we’re all going to need liver transplants after tonight

no jesus please don’t vomit oh goD oh fUc k please- oh thank god

okay i’m making a part two this is too much

[noncommited-writer]

hot chocolate and cookie dough ice-cream

A/N: Here’s my next work on Starker Bingo 2019! It’s for the ‘Soulmate AU’ one. (which I actually asked for). This isn’t your typical Soulmate AU but I did have a lot of fun. It’s an AU where whatever you eat or drink something your soulmate will start craving it too. Hope you enjoy! I tried to be original with the Soulmate AU so I did this😅

Here it is on ao3!

Word count: 4725

**

Soulmates are a fickle thing. Years of research, millions of dollars of funding have been put into figuring out the intricacies of soulmates. To hopefully make it easier for people to find each other. Centuries ago, when it was easier to meet your soulmate—especially when you live in a small town with a population of only a hundred—they figured out that when you eat or drink something, the person on the other end of the bond starts craving the same thing as well.

People get to meet their soulmates through having very personalised tastes and preferences so that one day, they can stumble upon someone who is eating the exact thing or at least trying to curb the urge to eat frog legs topped with caviar.

But in this day and age, where the population is growing in size each and every moment, more and more people start to care less about soulmates. Not that the interest about them disappear completely; they still teach the idea of soulmates in world history. But because of the rarity of successful pairings—usually in the one out of a million chances—and the fact more people are rebelling against the idea of being tethered to one person for the entirety of your life, people tend to not think largely on soulmates.

Not that it doesn’t happen. Fate did decide to pair two souls, and so fate would bring them together. Scientists—as logical as they are—do think there’s always something bigger at play here, because it’s still shockingly more common for soulmates to meet than for it to make sense.

Which is why when Tony Stark—small, young, full of hopes and dreams and knowing everything there is about soulmates—was absolutely devastated when he starts to realise how he never really craved anything. Even as a small child, he never once had the urge to eat something new or interesting or even anything at all.

At seven, his smile breaks when Jarvis asks him what’s his soulmate’s favourite food. He comes up with ‘Waffles! Like my favourite!’ knowing there’s something wrong with him if he doesn’t even know what’s his soulmate’s favourite food.

At eleven, he shrugs when his classmate asks him what’s the weirdest craving he’s ever gotten. He says his soulmate has basic tastes, not having the guts to say they don’t have a taste at all.

At fifteen, when he’s fresh out of MIT and tied at the hip with his best friend—whose favourite food is beef taquitos with chipotle hot sauce—he says with a wink and a smile that his soulmate loves taquitos with hot sauce. Rhodey always has this dull look of sadness in the depths of his eyes, but he doesn’t say a thing—especially after he had to see Tony screaming through tears that his soulmate is dead, that he’s a loner who deserves nobody in this world.

At twenty-one, when he’s drunk and counting down the days to his parents’ funeral, downing so many shots he wonders if he’ll have alcohol poisoning, the girl who’s straddling his lap furrows her brows and asks if his soulmate likes alcohol as much as he does. He can only give a dry laugh, before tossing back another shot.

At thirty one, he wakes up on the eleventh of August and he has an overwhelming urge to drink milk. He easily shrugs it off, makes his coffee with an absurdly amount of creamer that would usually offend his love for the bitter taste of black.

It’s only when a few weeks pass by that he realises something is very off. He craves milk at random times of the day, in the morning, in the evening and even in the middle of the night.

It’s when he’s having his third cup of milk of the day, sitting in his kitchen in the dark, when he bolts upright and spits out the milk, eyes wide with horror.

No fucking way.

Tony nearly has a breakdown right there and then, his hands shaky as he thinks back to all the times he’s drank milk and nothing else. He thinks there’s no way. There’s no way in hell he’s older than his soulmate by thirty one years.

He tells JARVIS to lock down his house and he throws the two jugs of milk he has in his fridge into the trash, one of which is already half empty. He sits in his basement, eyes glassy and hand wound tightly around his wrench as he tries to tinker with his car. All he thinks about is how fucked up this is, how fucked up fate made his life to be this way, how he knows he’ll spend the rest of his life avoiding this poor baby—fuck, they’re not even two months old yet—just so he would still have his dignity intact and give his soulmate a semblance of a normal life.

Eventually, he does go back to drinking milk a couple of hours later, unable to ignore the craving.

If Pepper and Rhodey notice how he starts drinking less, they don’t comment. 

**

Months later, he’s craving mashed potato and puree carrots, blends of avocado and banana. To satisfy the craving, he eats dinners of mashed potato with gravy and raw carrots with a banana avocado shake.

Turns out he has a preference for shakes.

He stops drinking alcohol altogether and replaces his morning coffee with bright pink smoothies, strawberries and bananas with apple juice that bursts with flavour in his mouth. He feels healthy and for one small moment, he’s glad his soulmate is an incentive to become less of the human mess that he is. 

**

Once in a while, he indulges in a glass of alcohol, but almost every time, he ends up not finishing it, the guilt eating at him from inside. On those nights where he drinks, the next day will start with him throwing more strawberries and honey into his smoothies to help ease his conscience.

**

On business trips, he goes to exotic places to eat all types of dishes, as if giving a small sampling to his young soulmate of what the world has to offer. He eats, and dines and tastes things he’s never tasted before. The cravings he gets are the usual waffles and ice cream, spaghetti and meatballs his soulmate seem to have an appetite for, and the hot chocolate during late nights.

Tony makes his mind wander at this times when he makes his own hot chocolate—not quite tasting like the stuff his five year old soulmate drinks but close enough; he needs the recipe because it’s that good—at the same time his soulmate drinks it. He makes his own world where his soulmate is happily sipping down their warm drink, burrowing into a couch with a blanket safely enveloping them. He never gets cravings for odd or disgusting food, which is a relief for Tony because it means his soulmate is well off, or at least enough for them to indulge in sweet treats and nice dinners.

Tony knows the more you indulge your soulmate cravings, the stronger your bond is. Which is starting to show in how much Tony eats desserts, simple dinners and drink fruit juices. The stronger bond also allows the other person to have a partial taste of what they’re eating, like a ghost of a taste on their tongue. Which is one of the many reasons he stopped drinking alcohol at this point. He knows that if he were to drink it now, the craving would be insatiable for his soulmate—who is already five years old—and he can’t do that to them. Ever.

**

Tony gets another Apogee Award. He’s in a casino when he receives it. He’s late for his flight. He asks for one hot sake and ignores how Rhodey gives him a knowing look without stopping his chiding.

An hour later, Rhodey is drunk, rambling about his army men, while Tony is sucking down on a tall glass of apple juice. The kid’s been drinking that a lot lately. Maybe it’s a school lunch beverage?

He’s Tony Stark, weapons designer, and he presents the Jericho. He pretends to sip the scotch he takes for himself, the crate of dry ice and alcohol just for show.

He takes the fun-vee and it doesn’t seem as much fun once he sees young men killed right in front of his eyes by his own weapons. Doesn’t become any more fun when he sees his name on a missile that sends him flying.

He damns the name ‘fun-vee’ when he’s staring at the growing patch of red on his blue shirt, feeling excruciating pain in his chest. He hates how he wishes he actually met his soulmate, he hates how he regrets not eating more different foods for them to enjoy, hates how they’ll grow up never feeling those cravings again, he hates how he knows they’ll come to realise their soulmate is dead—just like he did when he was younger. Darkness envelopes him.

**

When he’s eating nothing but ground meat and brown sauce, lungs compressed and eyes so well adjusted to the dark, his tummy rumbles with hot chocolate and sweet cookie dough ice cream. Tony thinks his soulmate knows something is wrong (or he’s just stupidly hoping) because the three months he’s there, the kid eats all kinds of foods. Ranging to their usual meals, to new dishes he knows his soulmate has never tried. It’s… heartening to know that there is someone out there, caring in their own way. When he craves barbeque mixed with that special sauce at that restaurant he loves, and the flavour spreads with a dull tingle across Tony’s tongue, Tony lets a tear roll down his cheek. His soulmate knows his favourite food and they’re trying to cheer him up.

**

The first thing he eats when he gets back is a cheeseburger. He knows it’s the kid’s third favourite food, next to tacos and the smoothies Tony makes. He gets a craving of his favourite ice cream later that night, and he imagines eating the ice cream with the kid.

**

He learns how to cook for himself, especially the foods the kid likes. It becomes Tony’s other favourite hobby, next to his tinkering and building of suits.

**

When Tony is dying, he tries his best to eat exotic foods more often, getting out of his comfort zone to order when he’s at restaurants. He hopes the kid can taste the oysters on their tongue.

**

He throws in a spoonful of honey, strawberries and even a dash of cinnamon to his chlorophyll shakes. Just because Tony is dying, doesn’t mean he’ll make his soulmate want a disgusting mixture of plain greens and bitter vegetables. In return, he gets cravings of a green salad which—Tony can’t even begin to unpack—nearly makes Tony cry.

The kid is only seven years old and they can already pink up cues of Tony’s tastes. The kid would usually buy heaps of sweet treats but for him—for Tony—they’d eat a green salad so that Tony would continue his healthy diet. It only lasts a week before it’s back to the bowls of cookie dough ice cream at night, but Tony never forgets that moment of sweetness and care between the bond.

**

Tony fucked up. He let his lack of self-preservation skills take over and he drowns himself in alcohol on his last birthday. One sickening thought enters his thought, that his soulmate deserves to have this bitter liquid run down the back of their throat for having Tony as their soulmate.

**

He buys a box of donuts, along with a cup of coffee that’s on the sweeter side, as an apology for making his soulmate—they’re seven years old, Tony notes, and wow does time fly—want alcohol for hours last night.

**

He tastes coconut in his mouth when he has the new element running through his veins, and he knows his soulmate tasted it too. Because minutes later, there’s coconut ice cream on his empty tongue.

**

It’s years later, and every year on the week he knows is around his soulmate’s birthday, he travels to a country to try all sorts of food. He hopes his soulmate enjoys their gift.

**

One night, Tony is tinkering on a red and blue suit—a week after finding out about this new web-slinger vigilante with a terrible excuse of a costume and who goes head first into bad situations—when his mouth is enveloped with the taste of copper. Blood.

The tangy, metallic taste freaks Tony out, and rightfully so. His soulmate is out there, with their blood pooling in their mouth, and it seems to be a lot. Because the taste doesn’t go away until half an hour later. By that time, Tony is stirring a pot of hot chocolate and taking a small bowl of cookie dough ice cream—which became Tony’s comfort foods—to make himself feel better. He takes scalding sips of the drink, the mug shaking in his hand.

A few minutes into his ice cream and breakdown, he has a strong craving for Thai food and he nearly crumples into himself, relief flooding his body.

**

Peter opens the door and greets his aunt, an odd craving for May’s walnut date loaf. But he shakes it off. He’d rather have those awful craving of bitter green smoothies than eat May’s date loaf.

He’s a stuttering mess when he meets Tony Stark, who is in his living room. His living room! He barely spares a thought at how he pays a compliment to May’s horrendous walnut date loaf. Next thing he knows, the man is in his bedroom and telling him he knows he’s Spider-Man and he can join his mission in Germany, which Peter of course has to go to. It’s the Avengers!

**

Tony is in India when he tastes a mouthful of disgusting beer. He does the math quickly in his head and he rolls his eyes. Only fifteen and probably at a high school party with bitter beer and bad music. He relaxes a little bit, though, because the alcohol taste goes away fairly fast. He supposes his soulmate isn’t one for much beer.

Not even half an hour later, his mouth is full of the taste of bland water, but it tastes dirty.

He gets a notification that Peter’s suit just activated his parachute, and he watches his Iron Man suit fish Peter out of the lake he fell from a hundred feet into.

He’s able to slow down his heart rate a little bit when the scans show the teenager is uninjured. Only for his blood pressure to rise when he hears that Peter has to take him down now, huh? Steady crockett, there are people who handle this sort of thing.

He ends the call, but not without a niggling feeling at the back of his head.

**

His mouth is filled with blood again and again, Tony has a panic attack. This time, it’s on the floor of his lab in the Avengers compound, in the middle of adding more tracking devices to Peter’s suit. He blinks, tears blurring his vision as he’s hit with the thought his soulmate is in pain again. They’re only fifteen.

He gets a call twenty minutes from Happy later, who tells him that Peter took down the ‘flying vulture guy’ and saved crates of weaponry that was being sent over from the tower.

Despite the fear of his soulmate being dead, he drinks hot chocolate again, with the hope he’ll get a craving in return. He doesn’t.

At least until breakfast, which makes Tony slump against the tinkering table, shaken to his core. A buttered croissant and orange juice tingling his taste buds.

**

He gets it. Why Peter turned down the offer. But there’s a twisting feeling in his stomach, right where he usually gets his cravings. He gulps down his smoothie, grimacing. He doesn’t know what that feeling means but he doesn’t unpack it yet. There’s so much going on and Peter really isn’t the highest thing on his agenda. Not even close.

**

That statement turns to dust when Peter starts texting him, updating him on patrols and his school projects. Tony starts replying instead of turning him away, and he finds himself enjoying their little midnight chats; Peter talking about his school and his Spider-Manning while Tony drops a comment or two about being on a business trip.

Tony knows Peter is higher on his agenda when he races towards the signal of the Spider-Man suit tracker, when he blasts the guy who stabbed Peter into the brick wall. The man gains seven fractures.

He knows it’s become a problem when he stops and stares when Peter strips out of his suit, all sturdy curves and thick cords of muscle.

He knows it’s fucked up when he doesn’t immediately turn off the Baby Monitor footage of Peter whimpering in the dark and whispering ‘Mr. Stark’—the reason why there was an alert in the first place—as he chases his orgasm.

**

Tony reasons it’s fine just as long as he keeps his hands off his underaged protégé—Jesus, he’s as old as his soulmate which doesn’t comfort Tony at all—when he invites him over for their usual tinkering in the Stark Tower lab. (He curses fate because—is this all he’s supposed to be? Be tethered to an underage teenager while simultaneously lusting after another one?)

**

They have dinners together; pizza, Thai take-outs and sometimes even Tony’s cooking. He can’t help the part of himself that purrs in satisfaction when Peter praises his cooking. He makes an off-comment he cooks for his soulmate, because he knows all of their favourite foods. Peter grins and says, “Hey, one of my favourites is also spicy chicken tacos! I can basically devour them. They’re amazing.”

**

They have quiet moments in the dark lab, amused smiles when Peter makes bad science jokes, fond eye rolls when Peter asks if Tony is playing Led Zeppelin, soft sounds of triumph and victory when they figure out a problem together, one person carrying the other to the couch when they pass out. It’s private moments, shared over their love of science and technology, and their bond between them.

**

Peter and Tony walk into the frozen section of the grocery store, both of them reaching for the same ice cream. Cookie dough. Peter is beaming, “Your favourite is cookie dough ice cream too?”

Tony snorts but nods, taking two cartons of it for safekeeping. He also takes a bag of cocoa powder to make his favourite drink.

When he’s poured a mug for Peter and himself, he awaits Peter’s reaction as he takes a sip. His brown eyes go wide, looking down at the mug. “Holy crap, this tastes nearly identical to my mom’s old recipe.”

Tony pauses, lips close to his mug as he stares at Peter. He’s spent years perfecting his soulmate’s hot chocolate recipe. The same creeping feeling comes back into his head, which he waves off. Tony shrugs. “Good? Or bad?”

“Good. Definitely good.” Peter is nearly nuzzling up to the mug, hands wrapped around the warm ceramic. They share a secretive smile over their mugs, Tony taking in the sweetness of Peter’s raised cheeks and bright doe eyes. They take their cartons of ice cream to the couch and watch some movie classic that Peter calls ‘old’.

  **

Peter comes over to the tower dressed in a pink knitted sweater that brings out the pretty cherry red gloss on his lips, and dark blue jeans that seem skin tight. He’s there for advice; not for a Spider-Man thing, but rather for help on a date with a boy he finds interesting.

Tony finds it particularly difficult to spout out dating advice when he’s distracted by how kissable his mentee’s lips are—bright and red and so sinful—so he sends Peter off with a tight-lipped smile and a grandfathterly pat on the shoulder.

The sweetness of a strawberry milkshake floods his mouth but he shoves it down along with the hazy lust. For the first time in years, he takes three fingers of scotch down in quick succession, going down his throat with a burn that faintly reminds him of the shame he feels when he looks at Peter in a way that’s not fatherly.

It burns more when he thinks of his soulmate who ate cookie dough ice cream last night.

**

“How was the date?” Tony can’t bring himself to put much enthusiasm into his tired voice, but Peter doesn’t even seem to notice, because his eyes are downcast and he’s dragging his feet across the floor like he’s heaving a heavy bag behind him—and he seems so upset that Tony—god, Tony knows he’s not a good person, no matter how much he tries to convince himself by drowning in smoothies but—he can’t help himself from opening his arms like he has the right. Not that it matters because Peter rushes into his arms, slumping against the warmth Tony gives off who rubs his back in an awkward attempt to comfort him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Lucas is a dick. He only asked me out so he can fulfil some dumb dare his friends made.” Tony sighs, and gently pushes Peter onto the stool next to him.

“You know that doesn’t mean you’re not worth the effort, right? That guy’s an asshole for treating you like this. It’s not your fault.” Peter quickly wipes away the stray tear, red-rimmed eyes tugging at Tony’s heartstrings. “Sure feels like it.”

“And why is that?”

“Because… if I was more attractive or more funny then maybe he would ask me out for real.” Tony stares at him. “Are you serious? Kid, he wouldn’t have asked you out for real because he never saw you for what you truly are.”

Tony leans in to rest his hand on Peter’s arm and they lock eyes. “He doesn’t deserve you, Pete. You should know that.”

Peter looks lost for a moment, contemplative as he looks at Tony. An irking feeling nips at Tony’s brain, and he pulls away, breaking the thin walls of their moment. He’s too close.

Tony gives him a smile, genuine but a little guarded. Peter just furrows his brows, tilting backwards in his stool. The light hits just right where Tony can see the shimmer of pink in Peter’s lip gloss, the deep brown in his irises that turn to honey and Tony—Tony loses his breath. Because he knows he’s so fucked. And he can’t do anything about it.

“Did you know my favourite dessert is cookie dough ice cream?” Peter asks, looking at the table as he avoids Tony’s confused gaze.

“Yeah, you told me.”

“My other favourites are hot chocolate, chicken tacos, and strawberry smoothies.” Peter looks up and gets off from his stool. He moves to Tony and places his hands on his thighs, staring at Tony’s face.

“Kid, what’re you—”

“I just—I just need to know, Mr. Stark.”

Peter kisses him.

The first thing that Tony notices is the cherry-flavoured lip-gloss. Then Peter licks the seam of Tony’s lips, and the man lets him slide in.

The second thing that Tony notices is the strawberry milkshake flavour he was craving just an hour ago.

He freezes.

Peter can taste the scotch on Tony’s tongue, the same alcohol that warmed up his belly when he was sipping down his strawberry milkshake.

Tony doesn’t pull away. He doesn’t. Because he knows—he knows what this means.

He can feel the probing feeling again, stronger than ever—telling him to touch Peter—touch Peter, he has to.

His hand slowly inches forward, grazing Peter’s wrist. The second he touches Peter’s soft, creamy skin and something—something breaks.

A flood of feelings erupt within them, like a huge dam that was built in the corner of their mind—holding everything back, colours and memories flitting before of their eyes. Cacophony of deafening sounds, unforgettable tastes, overflowing sensations and buried hurt.

“Mommy, can I have some hot chocolate? My soulmate is having some!”

“Peter—don’t touch that bottle!”

“But I want it!”

“Richard, should we be worried? Peter has been wanting that bottle of scotch for hours now. I don’t know what to do.”

“Oh my gosh! This tastes almost exact like the smoothies my soulmates likes to make!”

“Oh!—They like cookie dough ice cream too!”

“Mommy, there’s something wrong. I can taste blood.”

“May! I want salad for dinner. I think my soulmate changed his taste!”

“Ned! My soulmate is drinking apple juice too! Isn’t that cool? I wonder if they’re in this school.”

“I don’t know whether to love or hate my soulmate. I think they go around tasting all sorts of exotic stuff around my birthday because now all I want is chilli crab wrapped in squid tentacles. And I’ve never even liked squid!”

“May… my soulmate is drinking too much. I’m scared. They never drink this much, ever.”

“God, I didn’t know I can bleed in the mouth so much from a punch… Shit.”

“It’s so hard for me to believe she’s someone’s aunt. This walnut date loaf is exceptional.”

“Mr. Stark, the only time I’ve ever tasted caviar is on my birthday and I don’t think I’ve never hated my soulmate more for that.”

“The only time I’ve ever been scared for my soulmate, was when I was six or seven. All I craved for three months was beans and pork. Nothing else. I didn’t know why, but it had me so worried.”

Tony pulls away, his eyes wide. Peter is crying, Tony’s memories playing in his head. And Tony… Tony feels nothing but the need to protect and to keep his soulmate, nothing but the need to shower Peter in affection that buries deep into his soul.

A shaky hand reaches up, calloused thumb light tracing Peter’s supple skin as he tries his best to hold everything together. It’s been so long.

Tony’s wanted this for so long. He promised himself he’d never want to meet them, but along the way, between the sweet hot chocolate and cookie dough ice cream, he’s grown affection and love in his heart, tender to the touch but blooming. And all for the one true person he’s made for. All for Peter.

“I found you.” Tony can barely speak, his throat closing up as his mouth tastes even more of the strawberry milkshake.

“And I found you,” Peter mumbles, his hand coming to rest on Tony’s forearm. They lean into each others touch, feeling their heart, soul and mind intertwine as memories of the other play before their eyes. Tony can feel Peter. Peter is all over him. He wants—he wants him, he wants… more.

His hand swoops down to cover the back of Peter’s thigh while the other slides down to his waist. Tony, barely sparing a moment, pulls the small doe eyed sweetheart into his lap, the scent of Peter’s strawberry shampoo and cheap deodorant enveloping his senses.

They stare at each other and slowly, Peter’s hands entangle into Tony’s soft hair, not losing sight of the other for a second, afraid the other would disappear if they do.

And they kiss.

And kiss again.

Peter is whimpering, making soft noises against Tony’s lips. Tony is practically breathless, unable to get enough of Peter as he nip and licks his way into Peter’s sweet mouth; the mouth that’s nothing less of a sweet tooth—something that Tony has come to learn over years of late night cravings.

It feels like every unsatisfied craving he’s had over the years are met, like a hole inside getting filled up the longer his hands are on Peter. It’s like… getting your other half, not knowing you were there was a piece missing all along.

Peter pulls away, a thin string of saliva connecting their red lips. The lithe boy on his lap looks like an angel.

“Can we get hot chocolate and cookie dough ice cream?” Tony moves in, licking a warm stripe on Peter’s neck, revelling in the deliciously drawn out sound from him.

“Sure, kid, whatever you want.”

[ginnyzero]

Completely Harmless Ch. 45

Completely Harmless An SSO SilverGlade Re-imagining Story (Or Fix it Fan Salt fic) By Ginny O.

When Lily and her friends wanted to buy horses and were directed to the Silverglade Manor and its myriad of problems, they didn’t expect to start a revolution. They were just a bunch a stable girls. Completely harmless. Right?

A/N: Things are only canon if I say they’re canon. Pre-Saving the Moorland Stables compliant for the most part. Posted in its entirety on my website. Posted in 2000 to 4000 word bits here. Rated T for Swearing Word Count 177,577

Chapter Forty-Five She sells sea shells by the ... river shore?

Lily tried to regain control of the meeting. “Pauline, where do we stand on the decorations?”

“Okay, here is the ideas I’ve had with everyone talking. Okay, we take flower wreathes and put them on the lamps and then wrap them with more flowers like the ones in the wreathes and our artificial palm leaves, and the sea shell garlands and sea shell lights. Then, if you have an arm to hang things off of, put a paper lantern with more flowers if you want. Um, don’t choose any flowers that are protected ladies. Then we can use the bubble garlands and the jelly fish lights like we did with the clouds and rainbow hearts from the trees. You can mix them up with the regular paper lanterns too if you want. Put the flower lights, sea shell garlands, and paper lanterns in all the stables. You can make the paper lanterns look like bubbles if you do it right.”

“Like with the clouds.”

“Exactly!”

“Then we can use the beach scene lanterns the exact same way we used the heart lanterns. But you can add the decorated anchors or ship wheels in with them. Or use the shell buckets instead. We put up the boats with the selfie walls, boats have nets decorated with shells, the round white circles have flowers and greenery like they’re a big wreathe. Put up some of the round lanterns, throw in an anchor and a wheel for props if they want. Um,” Pauline scrolled through the pictures. “We can create cabanas for the bar and the dance floor using frames, sheets, the flower lights, the artificial palm leaves, and inside have the jelly fish lanterns and more bubble garlands. The bar can have a net on it and be strewn with the decorated shea shells and the shea shell lights.” Pauline stopped at the giggles.

“Sea shells,” Lily said dryly.

“Sea shells,” Pauline repeated. “We can have more bucket, anchor, wheel decorations on that. And the pineapples, because Lily wants the pineapples. We can put more of the artificial palm leaves there too. Above the bar can go the jelly fish lights and the bubble garlands.” She paused. “And these lace sailboats are cute. We can have them as a prop too at the selfie wall. I mean, I think we’re actually set for decorations. I mean, I know it sounds more than what we had for Rainbow Week, but we’re mixing them in more interesting ways?”

“There are more bigger pieces.”

“And no balloons.”

“Right, I mean, we could use the lantern lights instead of balloons to fill up space or use the jelly fish lights and white lanterns to make little scenes.” Pauline shrugged. “We’ll have to experiment.”

“Food,” Lily moved on.

“Jorvik Crawfish Boil,” Pauline checked her notes. “Crabwiches, fruit salad in a carved watermelon bucket, Vegetable and mushroom skewers, popsicles, watermelon on a stick?”

“One sounds too many.”

Pauline crossed out the watermelons on a stick. It seemed redundant.

“I saw mermaid tail favors. We could put candy in them?”

“We should have cookies, like citrus ones.”

“That means they’d be orange.”

“Orange cookies.”

“I also saw plastic seashell favors, we could put something in those too.”

“I think we better put out some things like pretzels and Cheetos for people like Alex,” Lily said.

“Okay, now we need some drinks because I think we’ve covered food pretty well. And I mean, we can all buy snacks to put in the buckets. That’s not difficult.”

“Pretzels, popcorn, Cheetos, and crisps.”

“Wait, can we really have a bonfire without s’mores, sausages, and potatoes?”

“Yeah, and bread for the sausages or to eat with the crawfish.”

“Cheese, we might need cheese.”

Lily rubbed her forehead. “Fine. But we’ll have to figure out how to split it out. Drinks.”

“I make some really chillax awesome drinks.” Tim spoke up. The first time he’d spoken up in a while. Maybe he was overwhelmed with the eager teenage girls. Or maybe he didn’t care that much about the food or the decorations.

Lily turned her head. “Yeah, I think we might want to test your drinks first.”

“Shibby!”

“Why don’t you tell us the ingredients?” One of the girls asked sweetly.

Tim rattled off his ingredients. They included kidney beans. Kelp. Corn water. Fermented potato juice.

Lily held up a hand. “Fermented potato juice is vodka and corn water is basically moonshine. Are you trying kill us and get us drunk?”

“You don’t think people will like them.”

“I think maybe we should stick to things like banana and strawberry smoothies. Orange juice. And grape and seltzer punch.”

“Apple juice. Watermelon and blueberry spritzers.”

Tim slumped in his seat.

“Those will bring the tourists back for more.” Lily patted his arm.

He sighed. “They sound boring to me.”

“We can try to make them exciting. Package them in fun ways! Mermaid, err, okay without lemons this is not as easy as you’d think.”

“Grape comes in clear.”

“Ohhh, that works. Look we did this at home, just color up some different ice cubes, put edible rainbow glitter around the edge of the glass. Put it in some grape juice with soda if you want, and let the ice cubes melt. Mermaid Cocktail. Or as it was described early grape and seltzer punch.”

“Mock up a white grape sangria too, strawberries, blueberries, apple or orange slices in white grape juice, apple juice, and soda.”

“They can be fun, we promise,” Lily patted his arm again.

Tim sighed. “All right, I’ll have to trust you.”

“Put the orange and soda in hurricane glasses, drizzle strawberry juice into it, garnish in a fun way, sunset hurricane drink.”

“See,” Lily smiled at him.

Tim didn’t look convinced.

“Watermelon and grape go with a lot of things. And we can get you the cucumbers too.”

“Okay, I think we’re good to go.”

“We’ll come up with a recipe list.”

“All right, then we’re doing the different wreathes at the different parties,” Lily said. “Let them have the sand souvenirs. We can do necklace garlands and bracelets to I guess for the luau theme.”

“And hide decorated Conch Shells, because they’re big, and colorful,” Pauline said. “Like, I think these are plastic or vinyl. I hope they are. Real conch shells might be too expensive.”

“Okay,” Lily nodded. “Hedgehogs, you’re the source of the crawfish for the crawfish boil. I’m leaving that to you.”

Riley groaned.

“I know you’d rather have the mermaid favors. Kelsey that sounds like something Madison would enjoy doing.”

“She would. So, we’ll take it.”

“You’re going to have to make a lot of them so, yeah.” Lily wrinkled her nose. She didn’t feel bad about giving that to them and only that. “Bulldogz, I know how you feel about Jamie cooking.”

“Someone is trying to hire her for the Midsummer Feast and thank goodness she’s easily distracted.”

“So, you can have the shell party favors.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Josefina spoke up. “We’re the source of the strawberries and the blueberries. Do you want us on drinks or on the fruit salad?”

“We’re going to have to buy watermelons in bulk from the food stalls.”

“Okay, question,” Lily put her chin on her hand. “Who among is a competent melon or pumpkin carver? Because they should be the ones doing the fruit salad. I mean, I don’t think the carved bucket idea was a plain bucket?”

The girls got on their phones and started texting people in their clubs.

Loretta shook her head. “None of mine.”

“Loretta, since you have the Midsummer Festival grounds in your area, are you going to do a beach party too?” Lily asked, genuinely curious.

Tan leapt in. “Of course we are, and we’ll decorate those Dark Core containers and chase off the goons if we have to.”

Loretta made a face. “They’ve been stealing. Can you believe it?”

“You don’t say.” Lily’s voice was bland. “Do you have any records of it?” Lily asked. She wasn’t at all surprised that a company with a name like Dark Core hired a thief.

Tan tossed her head. “I recorded everything.”

“Could you send it to Linda?” Lily asked slowly and raised her brow.

“Linda? Why would she want to know? I mean, she’s one of those weird druid riders,” Tan flicked her wrist.

“Because the Baroness will want to know,” Lily said. Frustrated she had to spell it out. “And Linda is her personal assistant and monitors her emails.”

“Oh, in that case, sure,” Tan said and dug out her phone. “As long as the Bobcats get the credit for catching them.”

“I’m sure Linda will tell her.”

Loretta sniffed. “I had them all file reports with Thomas.”

Lily nodded and texted that information to Linda as well.

Linda texted back she was going to ride over to Moorland to get it. She needed to see Alex anyways and she was probably at Maya’s.

“Or with Justin,” Lily murmured. Had Justin gotten up the nerve to say anything to Alex yet? Lily shook her head.

“I’ve got a carver,” Amelia said. “She sent pictures of her work. She can carve buckets and flowers.”

“Then you’re on for the fruit salad,” Lily said. “Do you mind another club coming and picking fruit for the cocktails and the popsicles?”

“Not at all.”

“Chipmunks,” Lily turned to them. “I know you’ve got the farmers, but you also have Harold.”

“Orange slice cookies. On it, Lady Captain Lily.” Kate saluted and then fluttered her hand and bowed.

Lily restrained a sigh. Of course Kate would choose both.

Pauline spoke up. “I think we should take the popsicles, Lady Captain President, we’ve got the big freezers in the Wine Cellar to keep them in.”

“Right, good plan.”

Pia spoke up. “I’ll take one of cocktail slots. That way I can work closely with Tim to make sure they’re fun and fizzy.”

Sonja spoke up. “We also have the other fruits in our forest. So, we’ll take a cocktail slot too. And help everyone harvest fruit.”

Ingrid was next to volunteer. “Ma Anna knows pastry, and croissants like those crabwiches are pastry. We’ll take the crabwiches and make different meat salads for them.”

“Fish salad, chicken salad, egg salad, ham salad,” Violet muttered.

Pauline checked her list, “That leaves the Pandas, the Bulls, and the Cats.”

“What do we have left?”

“Veggie skewers.” Pauline checked. “Snacks, bread and cheese, etc., and more cocktails.”

Loretta spoke quickly. “We can do the Snacks, bread, and cheese and so on. That’s all shopping. We are power shoppers. And none of the stinky stuff from Will’s Mill either.”

Ami wrinkled her nose. “We have a spa. We know cocktails. We’ll help out there and see what we can do with our grapes.”

“That leaves us the Veggie Skewers, and we can get most the produce from the Farmer’s Market and do assembly in Valedale.” Melissa nodded.

Lily spoke up. “This is going to sound crazy, but maybe we should have Courtney Summers do the Midsummer Feast. She’s a local and maybe she knows the local dishes.”

“Barney, Marley, and Carney can cook too,” Kate said. “Or, so says Barney. They have all the traditional recipes.”

“Kate, can you do the invitation thing? I’m sure the Baroness will refuse to invite her personally. But notice, she showed up last time.”

“I’ll invite all of them to do it. Make it a family affair. It’s a week and if we have too much food, well better than none at all.” Kate nodded.

“All right, well, here is hoping that the budget can take this,” Lily said.

“I bet we can get the farmers to donate lots of the supplies,” Kate waved her hands. “It’s for the Midsummer Festival after all.”

“That would be good.”

“We can approach them individually and get back to the group,” Amelie said with a nod.

Luciana spoke up. “I’d like to put a cabana up on the beach near the Dews Farm to be the gathering spot for everyone finishing up their charity events.”

“Splendid plan, Luciana,” Lily nodded. “We can set up one there, and a dance floor and it can be a celebration. At the end of the week, we’ll have all the money. Where are we keeping the money?”

“Silverglade Manor’s safe.”

“Right, we’ll have all the money and can present Maya with a big fake check. And I hope that will be enough to get them out of their debts and back on their farm.”

“They’re in foreclosure,” Loretta sighed. “Not bankruptcy. I had to go over it with her three times.”

“If they’re in foreclosure, that’s easier than bankruptcy to an extent. Though what did they do? Take a loan out on their farm?”

“From G.E.D. instead of a bank.” Loretta pushed her hair back behind her neck.

“Well, Ms. Drake is going to take the cash or else I’ll shove it where the sun don’t shine,” Lily muttered.

“Make it super public,” one of the girls said. “She can’t be a monster in front of a lot of people.”

“Ms. Drake?” Amelia asked.

Josefina snorted.

“It’s worth a try.”

“We’re going to have to do the same thing for the stables once it happens.” Ginny said.

“Have they tried anything but threats?”

“No. But the stable is in debt. To the bank, not to them, praise Aideen. But if the bank forecloses on the property, we’ll all be kicked out. Though your plans with the Friesians have been working. And Mr. Kemball has started on the Riding Arena. We’ve been having to keep him honest.”

“That must be a job and a half.”

“Like keeping James honest,” Pia said.

There was some nervous laughter.

“All right, Mares, Frogs, Squirrels, Terriers, and Kittens,” Lily said. “Get your areas in order. Your job is to focus on your section of South New Jorvik County and come enjoy the Midsummer Beach Party when it’s on. If you have problems with G.E.D. or Dark Core, report to me or to Linda.”

Pauline interrupted. “Music, Lily. Music!”

“Well, Fort Pinta will have DJ Kai. And I know New Hillcrest will have Syntax.”

“We’ve got a pretty big beach with a lot of islands all picked out.”

“I think asking Mr. Wetton for thirteen acts again is a bit too soon. Plus, it would make Rainbow Week less special.”

“Radio the different music the DJs are doing.” One of the girls suggested. “Set up a transmitter. Jack it through that tower in the Grey Mountains that G.E.D. has set up and it should get the entire county. Or stream it online.”

“That’s devious, and I like it.” Lily grinned.

“They shouldn’t have an obnoxious radio tower that big up there anyways. Radio towers can be much more discreet. I mean, put one on the observatory and it won’t be a blight to the landscape.” There was a sniff.

Lily turned to Pauline. “Happy?”

“Syntax can hack the tower,” Ginny said.

“Yes, keep them hacking for the greater good.” Lily smirked.

Kate shouted. “Okay, pizza time!”

They were all hungry. And there were new people to meet. So, they had pizza and wings and loaded potatoes and talked to each other and Tim. Though they all agreed Tim was quite strange and was it college or something else?

They split up.

FOR THE ACCOMPANYING IMAGES PLEASE DO NOT REMOVE MY WATERMARK AND CONTACT INFORMATION. THANK YOU. I get it. Some of you might get excited and want to see this stuff in the game, especially the clothes, tack, and pets. However, the only way I want to see this in the game is if I get paid for it. If I see it in the game and I’m not paid for it, there will be hell to pay. You think I’m salty. I’d be angry. Personally, I’m not going to send this info to SSO. If you do, leave my contact information there! Don’t give them any excuses to steal.

Now, I’ll know you haven’t read this note if you leave me comments about how ‘salty’ I am about the game and if I hate it so much I should do something else. I am doing something else. It’s called Mystic Riders MMORPG Project. Mystic Riders however is a very baby phase game. You can check out our plans on the game dev blog. (Skills, Factions, Professions, Crafting, Mini-Games, 25+ horse breeds!) If you know anyone who would be interested and has money or contacts about game making, direct them to the blog.

[firehunters]

July 1, 2018

“Hey, a bunch of us are going to Smith’s Bar in Manhattan after work, you want in?” Sean asked Andrew as he came up behind him to give him pat on the back.

“If I say no are you going to spend the rest of the shift trying to convince me to go and annoy me into going?” Andrew asked.

“I don’t know why you pretend to say no in the first place, it always works out for you. You come with us, you pretend like you’re having the worst time, you go ahead and have a few drinks, you loosen up, about three girls come up to you and start flirting, you take the fourth one home, and have a great time,” said Sean.

“I never take girls home,” retorted Andrew. “I always go to their apartments so they don’t know where I live and they can’t find me later. Plus, I can sneak out of their place,” he added.

“Whatever, you get the point,” said Sean. “Same shit. You in?”

“Yeah, well, you’re going to end up harassing me into going, right?”

“Yeah, usually how it works out,” said Sean with a grin.

“Fine.”

Several hours later—

“See? This isn’t so bad?” said Sean as he came up behind Andrew. They both were at the bar, trying to get the attention of the bartender. “But, hey, before you run off with a girl, you wanna be my wingman for a bit?” he asked.

“Since when do you need my help?” asked Andrew. “On top of which, do you really want my help? What if the girl likes me better and wants to take me home?”

Sean laughed. “I see what you’re doing, but you and I attract very different types of people.”

“Yeah? What types do I attract?”

“You get the leggy blondes who are attracted to tall, mysterious types and have commitment issues,” said Sean. “I usually like the ones who are needy and desperate. Totally different type. So, basically, the ones you avoid but think they have a shot with you, you send my way.”

Andrew shook his head. “Don’t you want to get married? You really think you’re gonna meet your wife at a bar?” He finally got the attention of the bartender. She came up to him and Andrew gave his order and also Sean’s, passing her the cash for the drinks so that they didn’t have to wait afterwards to actually pay. She took it and walked away.

“Where the hell else am I going to meet someone? We live in New York City, man. And I’m not going to sit around at a coffee house like it’s the nineties,” scoffed Sean.

“Very topical reference,” Andrew responded dryly. “Thanks,” he added to the bartender as she brought over their drinks. “Change is for you,” he added before he turned to Sean and handed him one of the drinks.

“You really don’t want that?” asked Sean. “What if you met the right person, though? You were engaged once. You clearly have feelings and you used to have ambition, goals.”

“No, I really don’t want that. Besides, I get it for you,” he said. “You’re in your thirties, you’re going to be forty soon, and you wanna settled down and you feel like you’re getting up there.”

“You’re in your thirties,” said Sean giving him a look. “You are thirty.”

“Thirty. You’re thirty-five. You’re in your mid-thirties. I’ve barely started my thirties. I’m still practically in my twenties. Hell, I’ve been at this job for only a couple years,” said Andrew. “You’re already lieutenant and you probably feel like you want to be married by the time you get to be captain, right? So, it’s like the clock is ticking for you. Besides, if you don’t think that having your fiancé leave you a note and disappear without an explanation for why she broke off the engagement doesn’t give you commitment issues, think again,” said Andrew with a wry smile.

“Ex-fiancé,” said Sean with a meaningful look. “Yes, but if you don’t try, then how do you expect to find the one?” asked Sean.

“Well, I don’t believe in finding the one,” said Andrew. “So, I’m not too concerned about it, to be honest.”

Sean rolled his eyes. “Come on, Dave and Bruce are chatting up these girls. We can’t let them be the ones to find girls tonight. Not without us.”

“Hang on,” said Andrew. “You go ahead. I’ll be right there.” Out of the corner of his eye, Andrew had spotted someone grab the ass of the waitress that had served him. He could see that she looked annoyed, but hadn’t said anything as she served trays of food to the table. He watched Sean shrug and walk off, Andrew moved to the table.

“Hey, you,” said Andrew. “You never get taught to keep your hands to yourself?” he asked.

The man exchanged looks with his friends before looking at Andrew. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Sir, it’s fine, really,” the waitress said.

“No, it’s not,” said Andrew. “She give you permission to do that?” he asked and looked back at the man.

The man stood up. He didn’t quite match Andrew’s height, but he was still tall and even had some bulk to him. Andrew still stood up straight to give the impression he towered over the other man, but he didn’t back down regardless. “What’s it to you pal?” asked the man.

“Well, she didn’t give you fucking permission, did she? And I don’t think she appreciates it,” he growled. “Keep your hands to yourself.”

“She your girlfriend or somethin’?” he asked, letting out a rough laugh. He was clearly pretty drunk, slurring his words slightly.

“No, but see, unlike you, I wasn’t raised by fucking animals,” said Andrew.

“Sir, it’s fine, really,” the waitress insisted, sounding desperate to prevent a fight breaking out.

“You wanna keep going, pal?” the man said.

“You really wanna try me?” asked Andrew.

It was hard to see who had thrown the first punch, but within five seconds, the two men were locked in a battle, the other man already looking worse, Andrew having made his nose bleed and holding him by the throat. The other man clawed at his arms trying to get him to let go, but Andrew held on, as if barely registering his attempts. He was clawing so hard, he had drawn blood, but Andrew didn’t let go. A crowd had started to form around them and Andrew could vaguely hear Sean’s voice in the background, shouting. 

Andrew had arms around him, trying to pull him off, but it was almost futile. It was only when security came through that they were able to pull the men apart. The other man was gasping for breath while they took Andrew. “Get the fuck out of here. Go home.”

“Is that how you let your employees be treated?” shouted Andrew while he was dragged away by the two men. “You let them get felt up and let the drunk bastards take advantage while they’re just trying to earn a living?”

They threw Andrew out into the back alley. “And don’t fucking come back, buddy, you’re banned for life.” The door slammed and Andrew breathed out, feeling frustrated. He picked himself up and brushed away whatever dirt and grime he could. He could still hear the commotion going on inside as they tried to calm everyone down. He didn’t move for a moment or two, not really wanting to run into Sean, if he came looking for him.

Andrew stumbled out onto the streets after several minutes when he was sure no one was going to go after him. He had no idea what time it was. He pulled out his phone but realized it was dead. “Fuck,” he groaned as someone passed him on the street and gave him a look. “Yeah, fuck you, pal,” he shouted, the person hurried and walked faster, disappearing around the corner.

Andrew turned around as he tried to figure out where he was. In the dark, everything always looked different. Besides, he wasn’t in Manhattan often, he didn’t know his way around as well. He stumbled slightly still feeling the buzz of the alcohol he had managed to consume, but finding the convenience store on the street had lights on still. In fact, most of Manhattan looked like it was open. Bright neon, lights shown down from most windows, lighting up the streets. Plenty of people were still walking past, most of them drunk like Andrew himself, but most of them probably tourists unlike himself.

“Hey,” said Andrew banging on the glass windows of the convenience store. It was closed, except for a window where people could still purchase items they requested, rather than browsing through the store. “If I buy something, can I use your phone?”

The man inside stared at him, like he wanted anything but to let Andrew use his phone. “Fucking fine,” he grunted. “Drunk bastard— what number should I be dialing?” he asked as he passed a corded phone through the window, ready to dial a number Andrew dictated to him.

“I— I don’t know, I don’t have any numbers memorized,” he muttered.

“Well, what the fuck, man.”

“Do I look like I have my fucking life together, sir?” Andrew growled at him. He paused for another moment as he bit down on his lower lip. He finally gave a number to him to call.

Once he finished his phone call, Andrew gave him back the phone and purchased a bag of chips and a jug of apple juice.

Andrew slumped against the wall as he waited for his ride. Luckily, she was only a few minutes away, out herself and she was pulling up in just moments.

“Get in,” she said and Andrew got up, hopping into the car driven by his sister. “What happened to you?” she asked.

“Nothing,” grunted Andrew. He looked back noticing she wasn’t alone and saw a man in the back seat, looking slightly alarmed by his presence. “You on a date?”

“Yeah,” said Rhiannon. “This is Eric, Eric this is my brother, Andrew,” she said sounding unbothered that Andrew had seemingly interrupted her night.

“Hey, uh, nice to meet you,” said Eric as he cleared his throat, looking slightly nervous. “Sir.”

“Yeah, you can unclench,” grunted Andrew. “She’s a grown woman and can make her own decisions. I don’t give a shit,” he said as he then faced forward once again and began to look at his arms. He seemed to only realized he had even been scratched up.

“So, what happened to your eye?” Rhiannon asked casually.

“My— oh,” said Andrew as he caught a view himself in the mirror on the passenger side and noticed there was faint bruising on his eye. “I got into a bar fight.”

“How novel,” said Rhiannon. “You really need to find a different outlet,” she said. “Every time you go out, you get into something, and when you’re not, you’re just brooding. I know the last few years have been hard on you, with your fiancé leaving you, but it’s not all bad.”

“I don’t want to talk about this in front of Eric,” said Andrew. “What about you? I mean, what happened to Lucas?”

“I got bored of him,” said Rhiannon. “Besides, I’m not the one who’s getting into fights at one in the morning and having to get picked up. We’re just worried about you, Andy. You’re going to get in trouble one day, legal trouble, when some guy decides to press charges and you work for the city. You could put your job in trouble if you keep this up.”

“Don’t call me that,” said Andrew, through gritted teeth. “I know I could get in trouble if I get arrested or have charges pressed against me, but no one’s going to do that. I’m fine, alright? I still go out and meet women.”

“Maybe that’s the thing, you kind of go through them quickly,” said Rhiannon. “You don’t get to know people anymore. I mean,  I know you’ve never really been a fan of getting to know people, but you could at least have relationships. Now your only friend is your lieutenant at work.”

“Yes, and he’s all I need,” said Andrew.

Rhiannon stopped as she reached Andrew’s building. “Yeah, well, you have your family, too,  you know that, right?” she asked, giving him a a concerned look.

“Yeah, I know, Rhi,” he said as he looked down. “Thanks for picking me up,” he added. He opened the door and got out. “And can you not tell mom about this? I don’t need her to worry any more than she already does.”

Rhiannon nodded. “Yeah, of course,” she said.

“And if you’re going to have sex in the car can you not park here so I can pretend it’s not happening?” he asked.

“Sure,” said Rhiannon. “Bye, Andy.”

Andrew glared at her before he slammed the door shut. He stopped as he frowned, seeing a sign that there was a vacancy in the building and apartments were available for rent followed by a number to call for inquiries. He went inside and got into the elevator as he began to pick at one of the scratches on his arms. He walked down the hallway towards his door and stopped when he realized the neighbor across the hall had his door open, peering inside he saw boxes stacked, most of the apartment already looking empty. Fucking great, he thought. The vacancy was for the apartment across from him he realized. That meant new people, another neighbor that he’d have to make sure to never meet or talk to. Maybe with his luck it would just be another old lady, most of the residents were older and he generally could just avoid talking to them. They stayed indoors for the most part, anyway.

“Hey,” said a man behind him as he walked up. He had some flattened boxes under his arm. He was one of the few younger residents.

“You moving?” Andrew asked as he began to unlock the door for his apartment.

“Yeah, gonna be out by the end of the week,” he said, looking Andrew up and down, his eyes hovering over his eye and scratched up arms. “You okay? Looks like you’ve had a rough night.”

“M’fine,” said Andrew quickly. “You know who’s moving in?”

“I think it’s some woman. Saw someone in the leasing office. Young, blonde, leggy,” he said with a shrug. “They just put that sign up today, too, but I think they’ve been advertising on the internet for a few days now. You know how apartments go quick around here.”

Andrew nodded. “Yeah.” He made a mental note to avoid someone with that description. He opened his door. “Well, have a good night.”

“See ya, man,” said the neighbor as Andrew closed the door behind him. He went to his bedroom, collapsing onto his bed, falling asleep to the sounds of the city.