syaahi

[urfavblackbimbo]

Dutty-Wine and Games

(This the reader’s facecard but just imagined her being thicker ☺️ and this is what Terry’s wearing for tonight.)

Summary: It’s date night for you and your man Terry and he wanted to surprise you by taking you to the Caribbean Festival that  you were talking about to him couple months ago and Terry getting you a souvenir that tested his man-strength also not knowing that tonight you would get your man high for the first time.

Warnings: Est. relationship, black fem. reader, n-word usage, D/s dynamic, smoking weed (a joint), kissing, oral(fem. rec x2), cursing, spitting, choking, hair pulling, dirty talk, praise kink, ass-spanking, squirting, unprotected p-in-v, doggy-style, the reader’s legs are on his shoulder(idk the position.)

Word-count: 3.5 k 18+ (this is the song that use dutty-wine scene if y’all wanna listen you can🙂‍↕️)

You’ve been dating Terry for the past eight of months and it has been amazing with him since he moved here to Atlanta after winning his case against Shelby Springs Pd and getting a large sum of money for himself and paying back Mr.Liu in ten folds and to have the restaurant to be open for decades. You met Terry on a dating website for other black people to meet, once you saw his profile and them beautiful hazel eyes he had with his bulging arms and large print you knew you had to have him. And today is another date night with him even though you don't know where you’re going.

“So I have a surprise for you, it’s something that we’ve seen a couple of months ago and it’s finally here this weekend.” Terry pulls into an empty lot to find parking for his truck to back in, turning off the ignition and coming around to open the door for you and only grabbing your phone and your lipgloss since you won’t need your purse.

“Good baby you are so fine right now, you lucky there’s going to be people there cause if not-” You put a hand on his gold chain he had laying on his chest to pull him down to kiss you, his soft lips overpowering you, slowly being push up against his truck, putting your hands up against his hips to push away “Okayyy daddy, you are done you still have to tell me what my surprise is?” looking into his eyes and shifting to his lips and back to his eyes “Well for what I’m wearing that should give you a hint?” smiling back at you and stepping back for you while holding your chocolate hand.

Your eyes shift down to his shirt to see he is wearing his curacao shirt that was makin’ look like a full course meal, his shirt fitted around his arms so deliciously with his big ass guns he had on him with his khakis pants that filled his legs out sooo good and his white forces and then you realized and smelling many flavors of jerk chicken, plantains being cooked, and a light smell of weed; your eyes widened “The Carribean Festival, awhh Terry I thought you forgot that I  told you that I always wanted to go.” you poke out your bottom lip in happiness showing a down towards smile to him  “Awhh babygirl don’t cry, you’re gonna mess up your pretty makeup.” He swipes his thumb in the corner of your eye to catch your tear and wipes it on his shirt “All-right I’m starvin’, let’s go inside before I eat something else mhm.” Terry smacks right on your ass making your Jamaican colored dress giggle.

You both made inside with him paying for the both of you, this festival was fucking huge with rollercoasters, kiddy rides, carnival games and tents full of vendors selling their amazing food, Terry let you choose for what you both wanted for dinner, you ended up getting a plate of jerk chicken and rice and a side of fried plantains and Terry got a bowl of beef stew with rice, carrots and potatoes with two drinks, as he paid for the both of you again, both of you sit a table.

“So do you want to ride any of the rollercoasters while we're here babygirl?” Terry holds out both of his hands in front of you, nodding your head at him and resting your hands on top of his large palms “Yeah daddy you know I’m not  a scaredy cat. I’m a big girl.” sticking out your tongue at him, he licks his lips  and smirks “Oh so you a big girl now huh, so you don’t need daddy no more huh?” as he told you that you were zoned out on his veins and hands, lightly scratching your smaller hands ontop of his and looking up at him and looking into his eyes shaking your head no repeatedly “Noooo daddy.” almost coming out as a whine from you, he gives you a chuckle “You know I’m just playin’ with babygirl I know you in love with daddy’s dick.”  he leans over to give you a wet kiss on your lips.

“Order for Terry, Order for Terry.”

He comes back with the food and lays it in front of you, you were in foodie heaven and you were starvin’ like marvin too and both of you dig in eating your delicious food, you look at his bowl and somehow he already knew what you were thinking, he places a couple of pieces of meat and carrots with sauce on your plate you smiled at him and thanked him “Did you want some of my mine too?” he nods his head with still found in his mouth, you grab your fork to pick off the chicken and rice for him and had in the air for him and opens his mouth to you and gracefully took the food, you look at him as he eats the food, you were in a traced that someone could look so sexy while there eating once he swallows it and it goes down you couldn’t help but to look at his thick neck a sheen of sweat that made you wanted to climb over the table and tackle him.

Both of you walked around the festival once you guys were done eating holding each other hands and looking at people, rides, and hearing laughter coming from all around you see a dance floor in the middle of the festival with some dutty-whine music playing throughout the place you lead him to dance floor, slowly moving your hips to the beat of the song Terry comes up behind you to stop where you were at and put his hands on your hips and starts to dutty-wine with you, your hands were on your knees moving your hips in a eight figure then throwing it in a circle and Terry was right there to catch all the wines, you slowly bend over hips while still moving in a circular motion he grabs one your arm to hold your balance while you grind on him, you look over long black french curls braids to see him biting his bottom lip and gripping on your hips, raising back against his chest while twerking on him, he turns you around to face him.

“Fuck babygirl you got me so fuckin hard right now, grinding that ass on me I feel like I was about to nut if you didn’t stop.” you put arms around his neck and peck his lips also to block anyone that would see your daddy’s hard-on “We can stay like until your soft daddy.” he raises his head to look at you and gives you a sloppy wet kiss. A few minutes later Terry was feeling better and both kept walking through the festival in-hand and you stopped in your tracks to walk up to the booth and asked the worker at the tall sledgehammer machine.

 “Excuse me, how many games do I need to win that teddy bear up there?” the buck-tooth boy turns “Four ma’am.”

You turned around to look for Terry and seeing him already behind you not leaving you any room, his gorgeous eyes going straight to your heart and pussy “You want that big ass teddy bear babygirl?” you plead with your eyes and put on your best pouty face and wrap your arms around his neck and gettin’ all close to his face “Please please daddy- pretty please?” giving him a kiss on the lips he wraps his arms around your waist he takes a deep breath “One more-mhm one more- one more babygirl.” you giggle in his arms “All right babygirl here take my phone, I’m gonna get you that teddy bear.” and gives you a small love tap on your ass and pays the worker then grabs the large sledgehammer.

The first bell he got was effortlessly, the second bell as well, by the third bell he had a crowd around him and you were cheering him on, and by the fourth bell he used all of his might and went it ringed you screamed and ran to him then jumped on him wrapping your arms and legs around him, giving him kisses “Thank you - thank you - thank you so much daddy.” and you still kept kissing on his face, he snorts out a giggle out as he put you down on your feet and rest his hand on your hips “Your very welcome babygirl.” “Ma’am here’s your bear.” 

You got tired of carrying the bear and had Terry carry it for you as you both were walking back to the truck, he opens the passenger side first for you to get in then he stuffs the teddy bear in the back seat and gets in on his side and turns on the ignition “Back to your place baby?” you looked at him “Yeah daddy let’s go.” you take your phone to be dj for the both of you and listen to Paramore and some RnB songs on the drive home.

You opened the front door of your apartment to let Terry in so he can put the teddy bear on the couch and his night bag on the carpet you turned on some lights so you can see Terry  and closed the door “You know being at that we were just at the festival today and eating some good food  and dancing I have the perfect way to close out having this full caribbean experience, be right back.” You walked to your room to get your goodie bag and bring it out to the family room to show him. 

“I’ve never smoked weed before, I wasn’t allowed to do it when I was in the marines.”

You slowly put back your joints that you had in your bag “But....If I wanted someone to be my first for this I would want it to be with you.” he turns to look at you “Thank you for trusting me daddy and I’m gonna get you so fuckin’ high you have no fucking idea.” you give him a kiss on the lips and one more for good measure and grab your goodie bag to sit out on your patio and smoke Terry out for the first time. 

You spark the first joint in your mouth inhaling the smoke and exhaling it out, Terry was watching you  the whole time seeing how your body language became relax under his touch and you holding it out in front of him to take a hit   “You just want to do a little hit first, there you daddy.” He coughed abruptly out the smoke, you set down the joint to grab some water for him and came back with a glass of water for him and your pink Stanley for yourself, he took a couple of more hits before letting you hit it again “How are you feeling daddy?”  he takes an even deeper breath and rubs your chocolate thigh “I feel really good babygirl. Thank you for this.” you handed it back to Terry “You’re welcome daddy, hey have you ever done a shotgun before?” Seeing him inhaling the joint and blowing it out his mouth, you couldn’t believe that this nigga has never smoked weed before and with him under the warm sunset making him looking like he was a fucking emperor with him smoking this joint, shakes his no at you “What’s that?” you slowly pull your lips in a smile.

You fill your lungs with smoke as you ashed the joint in your bowl, then grab his face to come closer to your lips and push out the smoke into his mouth, lips lightly touching each other then he moves his head up to blow out the smoke. Your mouth was slightly parted as you stared at your daddy’s adam- apple move up and down and the veins that pop out the side of his neck out, he pushed out the last bit of smoke and looked down at you and smirked  “What?” still looking at him “You so handsome daddy mhm, with yo’ fine ass.” Terry grabs your hand and brings it up to his lips “Let’s go inside babygirl, I don’t want none of these little niggas know what I got, come on.” and opens the sliding glass door for you to go inside.

As you walked in, Terry closes the door and locks it and walks over to the front door and locks that one too then walks over to you to pull you into your bedroom, almost feeling like your were flying Terry turns on the bedroom light and walks over to you to pull you in for a kiss “Mhmm daddy I need you.” he gives you another kiss “What do you need baby, use your words.” he leans down to kiss your neck you moved your head the other side of give him room and moaned, moving your hands up his back to grab on the back of head his soft lips and tongue kissing all your spots making you want to his full lips somewhere else “Oh shit daddy I need to you to eat my pussy please ughh pleaseee.” 

“You want me to eat your pussy babygirl huh? this pretty pussy, you need daddy’s lips on you.” 

Terry took of your dress and threw it across the room and lifted you up to throw you on the bed, taking off your bra and throwing it in the corner of your room he climbs ontop of you he rests his crotch on your clothed pussy slightly moving his hips against you, he takes his hand to hold your cheek and give you a wet sloppy kiss in his mouth. You moaned in his mouth and Terry kissed down your neck to your chest then sucking on each of your breast and kissing your tummy, he sits up to take off his shirt ‘fuckkkkk meeee this nigga has to be the worldest finest man to walk on this earth’ you thought to yourself.

Terry kisses down your chocolate thighs and spreads your legs apart “Lift that ass up babygirl.” Terry takes off your panties and throws it behind him he grabs your thighs closer to his face and kissed both of your inner thighs then the bottom of your cheeks giving you little bites of pleasure “Ah- Ahh! Daddy stop teasin’ meee?” kisses your bottom one more time and hold on to your legs and dive right into your pussy, his tongue swirling all around you and bring it up to your clit slowly sucking on it, you put your hand on his head Terry moves his lips to eat you all the way up and flattens his tongue against you, moving his head against you then he lifts his head to spit at your pussy and growled against you.

“Fuck babygirl god I love this fuckin’ pussy soo much, do you wanna nut babygirl?” “Yess daddyyy.”

Terry kept eating you out with his tongue is flicking over your clit, your thighs were shaking and fighting against Terry’s hold, but it was no use then you grind out your climax on his face he gave you little kisses around your pussy and comes back up for air to face you, his goatee was dripping of you then leans down to kiss and tasting yourself on his lips the sweet and tangy flavor of it. You grab his belt to unbuckle it for him and he stopped you to pull down his khaki pants and took off his forces then got back on the bed, he grab your hips to him and got ontop of you with his fist next to your face “You ready for daddy’s big dick babygirl?” Biting your bottom lip  and nodding your head.

“Yeesss dadddyyyy I want your dick- I need it - I need it so bad daddy please - give me your big daddy dick.” you gave him kisses on his full pink lips.

Terry sat up and grabbed your legs to put them on his shoulders and slowly enters your pussy, moving to a pace to slowly open you up “Fuck your pussy is so fuckin’ tight babygirl, here baby relax your legs for me ughh fuckk mee ohh yeahh that’s it babygirl.” Your legs were spread wide to your chest under the firm hold of daddy’s fingers “Ohh shitt daddy you’re fucking. Mee. Soo. Good ohh ughh fuckkk.” Terry picks up his pace to fucking you deep in your guts, he leans over to give you a wet nasty kiss he slipped his tongue in your mouth and you suck on it then biting his lip “Babygirl I can feel your pussy grippin’ me, fuckk baby are you gonna nut on my dick? You can do it babygirl, nut on daddy’s dick.” Terry hips were fucking you dizzly and your legs started to squirm again “ugh - ugghhh - uggghhh ohh fucckkk” releasing your wet essence on his dick. 

“Turn the fuck around.” 

He grabs your hips to flip you over on your hands and knees then pulls your hips back to face him “Goddam babygirl look at this wet pussy, this is all for daddy huh?” you lay your head on the pillows and relax your back by pushing your hips out. You moaned his name “Yes yes daddy it’s all for you, please eat my pussy daddy.” Terry smacks both of your cheeks, you gasped feeling the lightning strike you moan that turned into a whine “Daadddyyy.” Terry grabs both of your arms to hold them behind your back and he gave you a long wet lick from your clit to ass and back down to your clit then kissing down your pussy his tongue swirling in your pussy  “Fuckkk daddyy ughh ohh fuckkk.” Terry used his hand held onto your hip to hold you in place so you take whatever he gives you. Feeling the heat rise again in your lower tummy, you try to scoot away but Terry leaned forward to give his tongue lashing and slurping your clit as well. 

“Oh my fuckin’ god daddy ughh oh shit, you’re eatin’ my pussy soo good oohh fucckk dadddyyyy I-I’m gonnna cumm.”

Terry just kept eating you up as you wetted his face, he growled into your pussy then gave you a few pecks down your ass and released your arms and made you be on your hands and knees and you groaned out “Daddyyy.” He pulled back your hips to him “Can you give me one more babygirl? Come on you can do it baby, you’re doing soo good for daddy, don’t you wanna make daddy nut?” he leaned over your body then grab your chin to look at him with his lips just barely touching you and push your lips to him and slides in your pussy once more, Terry stretching you out and grabbing a handful of your braids to sit you up as he drilled into you, he wrap his hand around your throat and slightly closing your airways under his grip. 

“Who’s pussy is this? Is this daddy’s pussy babygirl?”

“It-t’s  yourss daddy fuckkk it’s all your pussy ooh fuckk.”

“Open your mouth for daddy.” 

You sticked out your tongue and looked into his eyes Terry lets go some spit on your tongue and swallowing it down, he gives you sloppy kiss as he fucks the shit out you “Ughh daddy I don’t think I can cum ughh ughhhh.” Then feeling three wet fingers rubbing your clit, you horsley moaned loudly out and having your heat rise up in you for the last time “It’s okay babygirl if you wanna nut? I know you do. I can feel you mamas go ahead daddy’s gotchu.” You felt like you were exploding, shaking and shivering on Terry’s dick, him still fucking you through your climax and lets go of your neck so you fall on your pillow. He gives you a few more strokes before he cums deep inside of you.

You rest your head on his chest, listening to his speed-up heart “Thank you for this night daddy I had so much fun tonight I love you sososo much daddy.” he grabs your chin to have you look up at him “ I love you too babygirl. Daddy loves you very much and I'm glad that we went to that festival together babygirl.” Terry pulled the covers up from under the sheets and to see one large wet spot on the bed, you both looked at eachother with wide eyes and with you feeling embarrassed and covered your face then he slowly uncovers your face to hold your face in his hands.

“Heyy there’s no need to be embarrassed about this babygirl, I’m happy and proud that I was able to get to that point okay babygirl.” and gives you light pecks around your face “I’m gonna grab a towel and get a new comforter for us okay.” Once you both got situated in the bed and he had his arm wrapped around you pulling you close to him and relaxed behind you then you as well drifted off to sleep.

Holy fucking shit I can’t belive I just wrote all that 😳but I’m soooo happy that I did, I couldn’t help myself anymore thinking about this black king 🥵💕 and y’all this nigga got me like I want this nigga’s baby frfr 🤰🏿but if you had enjoy this thank you so much and I know in my heart that this nigga know how to dance I just feel it in my spirit, that nigga can and I wanted to talk about his heritage for the plot of the story. Andd High!Terry Bitchhh there was something in that weed that made him bionic cause nigga was hard for 4 rounds straight (like if he was the terminator) and Dom!Terry is always gonna do it for me especially if the nigga’s nasty, but thank you to everyone who read this it means really alot to me.

Love, Nazzy 💕

[friggsdc]

Title: little delinquent pt i

part i | part ii 

Warnings: Female!reader (bat!sis), mostly family fluff, AU, hurt/comfort

word count: 3000~

It had Bruce and Dick sharing a look for a moment before the latter spoke up, “It’s not like I’m against continuing to expand the family, but…” he eyed the child you held nervously, “please don’t start bringing home every child you find…” he tilted his head, “he’s bad enough.” Bruce settled a light glare at his first son (that definitely wasn’t what Bruce was thinking), though Dick was stilled by the way your eyes narrowed at him instead.

“His name is Terrence,” that was all you said, brushing past as they were suddenly on guard at the inherited Wayne-scowl on your face.

a/n: Terry as a baby tho with an overly protective big sis/mom reader… I can’t get this out of my head lol. Also batfam are very close with bat!sis reader in this, so lotsa fluffy sibling intimacy. Because I want the fluff haha.

(it actually turned into more plot than fluff sighs)

 idk pairings/haven’t thought of that, I just didn’t know how to tag it so i used pairing tags??? lol despite that, I don’t feel comfortable putting Damian, Bruce, nor Terry in the tags ee;;;; Jason’s not in this chapter but he’s in the tags anyway sighs, he comes in around ch3.

-

A light lit up on one of the many monitors in the cave, a box popping up not a moment later with the alert, attracting the costumed people in the room. Bruce was second to the computers, Tim immediately making certain that the alert said what he thought it said, “Good. She’s back.” He sighed heavily, relieved before trudging towards the car port. Sure he was upset, they all were, but at the moment they were just glad their sister was back and alive. She’d get quite the talking to about scaring them all like this, especially from Tim and Bruce, later.

It almost felt like an eternity as her bike came into view, skidding to a comfortable stop with minimal sound. She took a moment to adjust herself, and they didn’t miss the small form clinging to her frontside. It was aggravating how slow and careful she was being, how slowly she got up from her bike as if the young child she had with her was the most fragile treasure. She shifted so that the bundle was curled up in her arms, messy black hair hiding most features as their face buried in her shoulder, frightened. The kid had to be about a year old or so, they assumed, quiet and trembling in her hold.

Damian stood next to their father, annoyance on his face as he bit back harsh words. Of all the people in the world, like Alfred, his sister was someone he never wanted to hurt. He couldn’t even imagine such a thing. “You turned off your comms,” Bruce stated, she only nodded, not usually one for hiding what she was up to. He went to open his mouth again, but Damian’s cold tone beat him to it, “you were missing all night.” She nodded at him again, lips pursed to keep herself from saying anything.

She was struggling with her feelings right now, incredibly upset at the way her family was staring at her, as if she herself were a child. It was really hard for her right now to be the loving big sister she’s always been since coming to live at the manor. All she wanted to do was forgive them for their mistrust, or to tell them everything to take that distrust away. She hated feeling like a bad guy, and she did her best to stand firm on how she felt, but her resolve was crumbling fast in their presence.

You couldn’t help it, your family had that kind of effect on you, always weak to them and their needs.

You would always forgive them. Always.

Tim was first to rush over, quickly pulling you into a hug (careful of the boy), and a slight tremble in his tensed hands kept you from pulling back. He rested his head on the shoulder opposite the kid’s head, arms refusing to move as the other three strode over. “Stupid, where were you?” Tim mumbled into your shoulder, your response was to bury your cheek in his hair, “I was… we were so worried. You don’t just go dark on us like that, especially not on me, you know that.”

He shifted his head to look you in the face, foreheads pressing together. Reaching up, he gently took off your domino mask so your eyes could meet, him doing his best to stare you down. A silent conversation began, your somewhat desperate look of, ‘I’m sorry, I have my reasons,’ and his shoulders sagging a little, ‘I’m still not happy about this.’

It had Bruce and Dick sharing a look for a moment, the latter speaking up, “It’s not like I’m against continuing to expand the family, but…” he eyed the child you held nervously, “please don’t start bringing home every child you find…” Dick tilted his head, “he’s bad enough.” Bruce settled a light glare at his first son (that definitely wasn’t what Bruce was thinking), though Dick was stilled by the way your eyes narrowed at him instead.

“His name is Terrence,” that was all you said, brushing past as they were suddenly on guard at the inherited Wayne-scowl on your face.

“Hey, uhm…” Dick coughed nervously now, stomach flipping and looked between Tim and Bruce, “has she… ever made a face like that before?” Tim frowned, shaking his head, “you actually upset her. That’s an accomplishment, Richard.” Tim went to change so he could follow you, wanting to know everything about what you had been doing and where you had been. “I… meant it to be humorous…” Damian just scowled at him, “it was in poor taste, Grayson,” he turned, wanting to change before following you and Tim, curious. Dick just sighed into his hand, knowing he’d have to make it up to you later, or the others would hold it against him.

“Babybat, too? Ugh.”

Usually you handled his joking around without much issue, what the heck?

“Good job. Whelmed yet?,” Bruce turned back towards the bat computer, intent on discovering things himself (and to alert the others, still out looking, that you were safe). After all, there was only going to be so much you’d say (call it a father’s intuition). Dick frowned at his father making fun of him, unamused, “...haha” He grumbled and went to change, following after his siblings with a yawn finding it’s escape (they’d been frantic all night, looking everywhere).

-

“You understand we’re not letting you out of our sight after this, right?” his ears perked up at Damian’s tone, uncertain if he was joking or not. Rounding the corner into a smaller sitting room, he stopped before leaning broad shoulders against the doorframe. “That’s terrifying, Dami.” Dick grinned at the glare his youngest brother sent him, eyes turning to you and the child on your lap apologetically, “Sorry, about before.”

You only waved your hand as if to dismiss the earlier conversation, a sign that Dick took to push off the wall and walk over for a better view, “So, Terrence, huh?” You only nodded, stuck in your thoughts, thinking things over. All your attention was kept on the child snuggled up against you, staring at the other’s in the room with a mixture of curiosity and fear.

Dick’s brow raised now that he got a good look.

“Okay, I know I said I was sorry, but…” Damian’s fingers strained to not curl into a fist as he gave Dick a hard, pointed stare, but he didn’t go farther as your hand patted his arm. “Black hair and blue eyes,” Tim sighed at Dick, “I’m just saying.” He shrugged, stopping himself from wondering aloud if the family was cursed.

You could only huff in exasperation as you buried your face in Terrence’s hair, the child wiggling to look up with huge blues. You smiled down at him and leaned back into the cushions, letting him rest against you at an incline, bouncing your leg lightly. His small hands readjusted to grasp onto your shirt, head using your chest as a pillow while he kept watching the men and scrunched his nose.

“So, where’d he come from?” Dick sat across form you, seeing as Damian was sitting next to you on the small couch, Tim in the chair to your other side (all your recon gear was in a pile on the floor next to you). A frown settled on your face, staring at the floor as you kept your face buried in the child’s hair, then shook your head. Stubborn. Tim frowned at you and the child, arms crossed in contemplation, and Damian was staring at the child wide-eyed in amazement (he was so inexperienced). Dick crossed his arms and leaned back, biting the inside of his cheek, “…hey,” your attitude was worrying him, you’d never been this closed off before.

Your eyes shifted from the floor to look at Dick, cycling to Damian and then to Tim, straight faced with having made your decision (even though you had already made it hours earlier). Looking to your family, you took a deep breath to brace yourself, “he’s mine.” All three of the men stiffened, Damian shaking his head, “you weren’t pregnant. Impossible.” 

When your eyes met his, he squinted slightly, your head tilting forwards, his turning away, “tt.” Dick was a bit jealous at how you had such a strong connection with Tim and Damian, wishing he could join in on the exchange of expressions (unfortunately, his innate big brother intuition with his siblings only took him so far. Living in Blüdhaven meant he wasn’t as involved in family as he wanted).

Tim was being incredibly careful as he sized you up, taking in the kid’s appearance and the way you were keeping your eyes on the men like a hawk. Damian had relaxed next to you, shifting his weight to lean against your side as he began poking and prodding at the child. In turn, Terrence just tried to grab at Damian’s fingers with his small hands, at times trying to bite him when his finger booped him on the nose (Damian noticed and started turning it into a game, as if he were playing chicken with a cat and it’s claws).

Terrence became a bit more comfortable, too focused on Damian’s antics, and he let out a small laugh, causing Damian to freeze in place. He hadn’t expected it, too absorbed in the game he had made up and instantly his ears turned red, suddenly self-conscious. The finger that had been frozen in place was hovering dangerously close to Terrence’s face and, taking the invitation, the child bit down. He would have yelped if he hadn’t been so well trained, barely able to contain himself, Damian jerked his finger out of the child’s biting range.

Dick cracked a smile and you did your best to not laugh, Tim however was studying his youngest brother, it was cute when he acted his age.

“So, he’ll be staying here then?” You nodded at Dick, “think B’s gonna be okay with this?” you shrugged, it wouldn’t matter, you’d refuse to give the kid up, “So…” Dick shifted, failing to keep his face straight, “Damian’s not the baby anymore.” As wary of the kid as he was, he couldn’t pass up the moment to tease his favorite brother.

“…Grayson,” Damian glared at Dick before reluctantly looking at the kid, silently agreeing. He wasn’t the baby anymore, “we… will need to outfit a nursery room, then.” Dick couldn’t hide his smile, letting it spread on his face at his younger brother’s quick acceptance, “guess I’m gonna hafta visit more often then if I want to be the best uncle.” Both Tim and Damian’s heads turned in unison at Dick, eyes narrowing in a way that made Dick want to step back, nervous.

“No way, I’ll be--” Tim was cut off,

“As if you could be better than me, Grayson,” he sent a pointed look at Tim, “I will be the best uncle.”

You were just glad your brothers were taking this so well.

“Sure.” Tim deflated a bit as Bruce walked into the room, looking at his boys before turning to you and the child, “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to speak with—” Just like Tim, he was cut off, “I won’t tell you anything about him.” Bruce frowned at your stubbornness, not liking that this was how you chose to respond to the situation. “You’re not getting out of this, we’re going to have a talk,” he stopped himself, correcting his remark after a moment’s thought, “…a few talks, actually.”

“No.” you frowned and he crossed his arms with a more serious ‘I’m your father, do as I say,” look about him. “It’s not up for debate.”

The brothers just looked back and forth, opting to stay quiet instead of getting involved. It did no good when the two of you got stubborn with one another.

“You can’t take him from me.” Your father’s stare softened slightly, shaking his head, “we need to discuss that, too.” Honestly, he wasn’t as interested in whether or not you kept the child, the problem was how quiet you were being about him. Something wasn’t right about the situation, and his preliminary searches came up with nothing. 

He only had a first name, it wasn’t much to go on.

Terrence was staring at Bruce, one of his chubby little hands left your top to shove his thumb in his mouth. The unwavering stare the kid was giving him… if he didn’t know any better, Bruce would think he was being challenged. It took all of Bruce’s will power not to look down at Terrence, he wasn’t great with children, let alone an infant. He was broken from his thoughts of whether or not the kid actually was challenging him, or if he just had no clue about what to do in this situation (he didn’t want to admit it though) when you finally replied.

“You won’t find out where I was.” It was a statement.

He studied and trained hard to make hiding from anyone and anything look natural, you seemed to have been born with the (suddenly annoying) skill.

“Your thoroughness is worrisome.” He sighed, feeling this was going to be a bit… difficult.

The siblings all shared an amused laugh before Dick got back to his feet, another yawn escaping, “I’ll be in my old room, need some post-mission Z’s.” He felt like a zombie walking out of the room, hoping he’d beat the sun before it got too high. “See you and the kid in the… morning…?” He had almost no interest in trying to make his brain work, already resigned to bed. 

“Then, you as well.” Bruce nodded to Damian and with a sigh, he stood up, “alright, father. Good night,” before Damian could leave the room, you were suddenly standing by his side. “Rest sounds good right now,” you avoided Bruce’s disappointed look, watching as Tim rocked forward from the chair to his feet before stretching.

Giving out a small hum, you quickly retreated into the hall with Damian, waiting for neither Tim or Bruce (mainly Bruce). As you left, Bruce turned to Tim, questioning what was going on, “Sorry, but…” he started, “I have no clue about this one…” Tim scratched the back of his head, staring at the floor sheepishly. He felt at a loss, not having been given the silent treatment by you since you were kids.

You were literally in each other’s business all the damned time.

-

Damian walked comfortably next to you, eyes drooping (even though he’d never admit it), and you dropped him off at his bedroom door.

“Night, Dami.”

“Good night,” you gave him a small hug, ruffling his hair as his ears flushed for the second time that night. “You’re lucky I’m going to sleep…” he huffed, hair now a complete mess. He entered his room, leaving you alone to the halls, “I think a quick shower would be nice…” you were walking towards your room now, intent on getting comfortable and relaxing before getting some shut eye. Dick was right, it was an exhausting night.

Hand on the door of your room, staring at the child struggling to stay awake in your arms, you shook your head.

It was worth it.

And you’d do it again. Every time.

-

Tim entered the room hesitantly, no knocking, he was certain you wouldn’t answer, anyway, but he checked to see if it was okay before closing the door behind him. Looking around to gather his bearings, as you had the light off, curtains drawn, and it was nominally darker than the halls, he spotted the top of your head over the edge of the bed. Quickly, quietly, he crept over to stand a few feet from you, but your eyes stayed on the sleeping child in your lap, refusing to look up.

He settled himself closely next to you, sliding down to sit on the floor and leaning against the side of the bed, shoulder rubbing your own. He looked to the child in your lap as well, then gave a small hum before lightly nudging you.  

He wasn’t able to see well, but after adjusting to the lack of light, it became easier to understand his surroundings. It became easier to see your features, to see the kid in your arms, and it was easier to grasp the way you frowned in anticipation when turning to look him in the face.

He wasn’t certain why, but he braced for something, suddenly uneasy.

Your lips moved to form the word, no sound coming out, too terrified the walls would listen in, ‘Cadmus.’

Tim’s eyes widened in panic, the child’s big blues flashing in his mind, and it suddenly felt like everything was coming together. It was the one piece of useful information he was missing, the one piece that you made certain they wouldn’t be able to follow when you disappeared for the night. He looked to the sleeping child in your arms, then back up at you, brain going into overload. How...?

He understood now.

His hand found yours, squeezing tightly, reassuringly.

You slumped against his side, relieved.

He understood.

[mystech-master]

F/GO High School/Modern AU BS

Me and @rex101111 have been talking about a modern/HS AU ft. as many Chaldean servants as possible. Here are the ideas we came up with (I am pretty much cut and pasting our message convo, so this is a mixture of both me and Rex's ideas):

Gil is the douchbag Senior everyone hates but his dad owns the school or whatever so he can do whatever he wants. The only decent person who willingly hangs out with him is his childhood friend Enkidu who's hoping he can un-douch his bro. He has kid Gil as his little brother and Caster Gil as his older bro who both agree that he sucks (Gil is the loser middle child of the family), Caster Gil wonders what Enkidu sees in his shit head brother. "He's too good for you." "Blow it out your ass." "One day he's going to wise up, see how much of a shit you are, and when you're all alone don't come crying to me." Caster Gil is in college studying political science, Kid Gil goes to a fancy boarding school. Archer Gil goofs off and throws parties

Scathach is a swimming class teacher, mainly b/c I recall underwater training being a part of Cu's regiment under her tutelage. People were jealous of the Cus for like two seconds when they find out the swim teacher is their mom, then they see her having them do an extra twenty laps and ignoring when OG Cu starts floating in the water. "CU DIED!" "YOU'RE NOT HUMAN!" while Scathach is like "you have two seconds to stop playing around before I ACTUALLY drown you" and he's back to doing laps.

Yeah with 4-5 Cus (if you count Setanta from Arcade) that is like 5 brothers.

Nightingale as school nurse, she is friends with Asclepius who works at a hospital associated with the school (strictly professional, but the students think otherwise).

Side note, keep in mind you can have multiple servants be the same type of teacher, just for different classes/grades.

King Hassan is the old Religious History teacher. Every one thinks he's older then the rock is the school is made out of. He has a scary face and a scarier voice but most students consider him the most fair and patient teacher in the whole school. He always gets a lot of food gifts before Ramadan form the students. (A few students, such as the Guda twins and Mash, call him gramps.) The other Hassans are his grandkids, like actual grandkids. He's super strict with them because he expects a lot from them. He always praises them when they do well though. He made sure they ALL got into his class and they've been living in fear ever since. They love their grandpa but by Allah they know not to disappoint him. The only one to ever get out of anything is kid Hassan (one of the hundred face). Cursed Arm is oldest, then Asako (the main hundred face), then Serenity.

"I am very disappointed in ALL of you, have you all lost your heads? I swear I-*to kid Hassan*-ah no Habibi not you you're fine here have a candy-*back to the rest*-I KNOW you're better than this!"

VERY traditional guy, Cursed Arm mutters "Oh for God's sake" while doing a pop quiz and King Hassan looms over him and growls, "No Blaspheming In This Class Room"

For the various Artoria/Arturias, I imagined Lancer and Lancer Alter being sisters, so Saber Alter is a cousin. That leaves everyone else to just be sisters with one brother. Mother Lartoria owns a casino and gas her own yacht in reference to the summer event where she became a Ruler. If you want MHX could be a part of the family as a massive fucking Star Wars nerd. MHXX and MHX Alter are her mom and sister (so MHXX is a third sister for the two Lancer Artorias)

For Irisviel, I remember in one of the Nero Fest things that she was called Therapist Iri. Maybe she starts to get into that b/c she wants to help her adoptive son Shirou (instead of a big fire like in Zero it can be an orphanage fire thing, similar situation but a much smaller scale) , so she is the school therapist/psychiatrist. Like Maruki in P5 Royal.

Iskandar died in his 30s, Waver is around his 30s as Lord El Melloi II. The two are old college friends who still hang out and Alexander is Iskandar’s kid.

If you guys want you can see this as the two being gay dads since I know that ship is popular.

Fran had an abusive father before Babbage and Moriarty got involved. In the og story, Frankenstien has a scientific mindset like his creator, here Fran has a talent in the field, but she also hates it b/c it reminds her of him. Like imagine being talented at the thing your abusive parent was good at/known for. Moriarty tried to get it into her that SHE'S the one with the talent, not her college dropout bum of a father, "From you tell me of him Victor couldn't engineer his way out of an argument with a cat, you have a magnificent mind my dear, not letting it flourish to spite him would be a horrible waste...it's your talent, your skill. Not his." He smiles that smile she loves that scares every one but she knows he only smiles like that when he is absolutely convinced of something, "and you can out perform him without breaking a sweat."

Moriarty teaches Fran sign language while Babbage teaches her some engineering.

Jekyll is going for a major in medicine with a minor in law (in the actual irl story Dr. Jekyll was a doctor in medicine and law).

For science associated servants, you got da Vinci, Babbage, Edison, and Tesla as possible science teachers.

The Jeanne sisters. Without the Avenger BS, the reason Jalter (or Joan as one series of fics calls her) could hate her here is just inferiority complex and being compared to her perfect saint big sister all her life. Joan does have her talents, based on the summer event an, but again she doesn't acknowledge her own talent b/c of her always being compared to her older sister., in the 7 counterfeit events she is a really good artist. And it is the typical thing of Jeanne actually being scared out of her wits of being less than perfect because of all the expectations thrust on her. She gets one A- and runs to the bathroom crying and Joan has to swallow her pride and actually have a conversation with her sister for the first time in years. Jeanne Alter lily puts up Christmas decorations super early, much to Jeanne Alter/Joan's displeasure.

"IT JUST TURNED NOVEMBER CHILL TF OUT!"

"CHRISTMAS!"

Martha is Jeanne's BF since middle school and has this HUGE dog that scares everyone and growls at anyone expect Martha and Jeanne. She calls him Terry.

Rex loves Penthesilea. and we talked at length about the situation between her and Achilles. Can you not tell that he likes a woman who can kick his ass *gestures to all of his Baiken posts*

Rex's idea: I think they had a fight when they were little and Achilles, being a little shit back then, made fun of her for being a girl, and Penth has been sore about it ever since. She keeps running into big misogynistic meatheads that reminded her of that and she just got angrier over the years. She's a wrestler and can knock out just about every dude in school by herself. Achilles is very regretful about back then and wants to apologize but Penth ain't having any of it.

My idea: I thought they were on opposing HS sports teams and when Achilles handed her ass to her he forgot to drink his respect women juice and then Penth got all pissed.

In this AU, Penth and Hippolyta's dad was a general who taught them how to kick the ass of men twice their size since they were seven or something.

Penth surprises everyone when a festival comes up and she gets picked to be the one to organize everything...and does a spectacular job. Another surprise is that she plans on being a business major when she goes to college (Obligatory Amazoness CEO jokes)

Bedivere is the Arturia Pendragon family butler with a prosthetic arm. He's also the security guard, last guy that tried to steal something or cause trouble got slapped right out of the window he sneaked in from.

Francis Drake and Artoria Alter Lancer are work friends (referencing them both being associated with the Wild Hunt in F/GO's lore).

Beni-Enma is the short and shorter tempered lunch lady, last kid who mouthed off at her during lunch got smacked upside the head with her spoon. She's sweet, but if you're in detention and have to help her in the kitchen she's a mini Gorden Ramsey, "IT'S RAW DECHI!!!" She can also come into the home EC class where Shirou is her best student. Also her roasting of the other girls like in her quest. Getting Fs in Beni's class is the worst, because it isn't just an F, it's a meticulous dressing down of exactly why letting into a kitchen should be considered a war crime, dechi.

The three Avenger Nobus are three different people. 1st Ascension is basically Archer Nobu, then you got Oda Kipposhi, and then the mom is Ascension 3 with Demon King Nobunaga. The youngest Ascension 1 Nobu is a musician. Demon King Nobu is one of those "super scary but also super polite people that only makes them scarier" type, basically a female koei Nobunaga from samurai warriors (check out some cutscenes form the games with him, he's a treat).

Imagine Demon King Nobu mom in a business suit.

Suzuka Gozen and Sei Shonagon are the textaholics who always talk in slang to the point of it sounding like they speak a different language. Murasaki is the librarian but Sei is like that ONE student who just makes her job so much harder.

Every week it's "No phones in the library Miss Shonagon." while Sei rolls her eyes and types out twitter post like "fugly ol librarian at my school needs a life lol"

Oui Katsushika is a gifted art student, and her dad (not a floating little octopus), is just a normal dude with a squid/octopus like beard. She's the teacher's pet in De Vinci's art class.

Eresh and Ishtar come from a rich family, Ereshkigal is the older sister so she had a shit load of responsibility to take over the family business while Ishtar basically gets to party her life away. Rin is the cousin they each try and swing their way. Eresh wants Rin to keep up her studies and get into a good university, Ishtar wants Rin to loosen the fuck up and admit that she likes that scrawny Emiya kid already.

BB is the host of a talk show downtown so she is kind of an absentee mom. Meltryllis has prosthetic legs that she specifically asked to be made into stilts b/c she wanted to be taller, and Passonlip has a massive rack that makes life difficult (either people staring, people assuming she's gonna be a home wrecker b/c said staring must be intentional, etc.), and of course he also has prosthetic arms to match her canon claws, obviously not as massive.

Hijikata is a very serious police officer but his wife Carmilla just uses this to have fun in the bedroom. They have two Dobermans. Hijikata's route has him patrolling near the school so most of the kids know as that scary police dude that has a picture of his wife in his pocket. One day a famous Idol called Eli-chan~ (yes spelled with the ~) is about to perform in the town and the kids can't stop talking about her, so Hijikata overhears. But, being the serious dude he is he shrugs it off until he sees a picture of this "Eli-chan~" and realizes it's his sister-in-law that came to visit and suddenly the influx of parasitic paparazzi near his house start making sense.

Carmilla: "Now you see why I hate them?", Hijikata: "No you cannot send the dogs after them honey."

She almost ran one of them over in her, very expensive, car and when that reporter says she should be locked up Hijikata corrects that would only happen if she had hit him...and she would be fined. For littering.

Okita Alter being Hijikata's partner, while Okita is her younger sister who's looked up to Hijikata since she was a little kid but she has asthma and such so she's afraid she might not get accepted.

Sigurd owns a metalworks shop (referencing his myth where he was raised by the dwarf Reginn), he met his wife Brynhildr when she was disowned by her overly controlling father.

Ozymandias, Nitocris, and Cleopatra are all the high board members of a company. Nitocris specifically got wind of Scheherazade's abusive husband situation and after getting said husband arrested, she offered Scheherazade a job.

Atalanta is a college student/TA who worked with Achilles' dad who ends up at their HS for a program or something, Achilles' dad has told him a lot about her.

Amakusa Shirou is an uncle married to the CEO of Babylon Gardens Pharmaceuticals, Semiramis. Semiramis herself is kinda chill if REALLY scary. She had to be pretty cutthroat to get to her position in the company, but Amakusa Shirou helped her mellow out, but she is still a massive tsundere.

"You know you COULD poison their lunch." "Semi, dear, I'm not going to poison my coworker's sandwich for being an ass." "It wouldn't kill them! Just a bit in their peanut better and they'll be stuck on the toilet for a week, no harm no foul."

Rex initially said Taiga would be an overly enthusiastic gym teacher but then I remembered that she was a homeroom/English teacher in Fate canon, but either or can do if you wanna be unique.

For Quetzalcoatl, Wrestling club supervisor when she isn't the senior year gym teacher. Some of the male students laughed that they didn't think a woman would know anything about wrestling. Two piledrives later, the students have earned a new appreciation for the importance on how not to be two pieces of shit. She's big on Lucha as in canon and during Halloween she gets JAGUARMAN to have an exhibition fight with her. They make a show of it but later on Taiga admits that Quatz could have CRUSHED her if they were actually fighting. She takes the wrestling club out for homemade Mexican food after tournaments

For Siduri, there's a bunch of rumors she's dating Caster Gil but it's strictly professional, Caster respects her too much to consider that. Archer Gil hits on her relentlessly, she manages to wound his ego more severely then anyone else simply by being unfailingly polite in her rejections and treating him like what he is, a teenage punk jumping higher than he can handle to land.

Ibaraki is Shuten's adoptive little sister after she was taken from an abusive mother, hence why Ibaraki looks up to her. Ibuki is either Shuten's big sister who had to take on a guardian role, or just her mom. Shuten and Ibuki have a bit of a strained relationship because Shuten saw the way Ibuki acted as they grew up, taking more and more responsibilities onto herself and refusing any distractions. And she decided that her biggest nightmare is to wake up one morning and realize she's turned into Ibuki so she tries to do everything to avoid that, hence their relationship not being the best. Ibaraki is kinda stuck in the middle because she wants to side with Shuten but she sees where Ibuki is coming from. Messy.

Caren is still Kotomine’s daughter, but he isn’t a good dad and in rebellion she sleeps around despite being a woman of god. Including sleeping with local punk Angra Mainyu. Angra Mainyu seems like a bad guy but he has a shit load of issues due to being blamed for everything going wrong in his old town, eventually coming to believe them and thinking he will cause nothing but problems. Caren banging him gives him a type of closeness he’s never felt, but under very warped circumstances.

For the Tamamo family, Vitch totally fucked her way up a corporate ladder or something, imagined Tamamo Cat working at a Cat Cafe if she were a Student. Tamamo no Mae accidentally fed her prev BF a food he was allergic too, and that kind of haunted her and scared her rep. IDK basically she seriously fucked up a previous relationship, either on purpose or accidentally, and that kind of hurts her deeply so she wants to start over with Hakuno.

Nero and Tamamo no Mae are rivals over this one guy.

Kiichi Hougen is the adoptive mom, Benkei is the family friend/uncle, Taira is Ushiwaka's older sister. Taira isn't on the best of terms with her family, some drama way back caused a rift and nowadays Ushi is the only one who's willing to talk to her and visit. Benkei never lets her go alone because he doesn't trust Taira one bit. Taira and Ushiwaka are Kintoki and Tomoe's cousins (I say Tomoe b/c apparently her husband and Ushiwaka were half cousins, with their grandpa having kids with their grandmas. I tried to make a whole family tree out of a few servants).

These are the ideas we had the most to talk about, if you guys have any suggestions for your fav servants in this AU, let either me or Rex know. Or just reblog and say them here. Who knows maybe you have a much better idea for a Servant we already mentioned.

[somefantasticplace]

MISTER AND MISTER

We asked comedians Vic and Bob the same questions in separate rooms. Then we compared their answers…

HERE for pictures.

What are the rules in your relationship?  Is there a line that you'd never cross?

Vic: We've never needed to have rules - apart from who makes the tea next.  We never speak to each other on the phone unless it's to say, 'I'm not coming in today,' or 'Will you bring some milk in?’ We have completely functional phone calls because we see each other every day.  We live about 10 miles away from each other. We're very medieval in that we do all our writing with a pen and paper.  Bob tends to hold the pen more and write things down more, but that's entirely down to my idleness.  I have to do the drawings because his drawings are indecipherable.

Bob: If we don't want to work, we don't have to and we never make an issue of it.  We never phone up and say, 'I'm really sorry, I've got to do this or that.' We just say, 'I'm not working today.  See you tomorrow.' We're both quite unassertive, so there's no obvious dominance.  It could be [why neither of them is the straight man].  We compromise - it's unspoken. We talk about most stuff, but not sexual things.  I don't know why that is.  You always imagine that everyone else does. If he's been out with a lass, I'll say 'So how did it go?'  I don't really ask anything like, 'Did she have nice tits?'

Tell us a secret about the other.

Vic: He's got an anal dysfunction.  Let's just say there's some kind of angle involved.  He backfires.

Bob: He collects a percentage of his used condoms in a jar and keeps them.  He does!  Last time I saw it was in his house.  So there you are!

What surprises can we expect in the new BBC TV series of Randall & Hopkirk (Deceased)?

Vic: I think the best bit is a very camp psychedelic episode, set in a big toy shop, with giant puppets and evil mannequins. it's got that late-60s Avengers feel.  I fly through the air a lot.  I was hurled down a corridor by a flaming man [no need to swear- ed].  No, he was on fire. It's always good working with Tom Baker.  When we're together we camp it right up.  He even gives me a kiss - it's quite full on and I wasn't expecting it.  He was telling me something really close up and he finished off by grabbing hold of my face and going mwwwwwww. I was pretty startled.  You don't think, 'Oh, he's a good kisser!' You think, 'What's he doing?'

Bob: There's one bit where we're in a jungle and Derek Jacobi is in a wheelchair with his face peeled off; Dervla Kirwan is on a sex machine (a punishment machine that gives women orgasms continually until they hate it); Emilia Fox is having a fight with a huge lady prison officer; and I'm being beaten up by two huge men.  It's a lovely little tableau.

Hopkirk (Vic) is Randall's (Bob's) spectral minder.  Who would you choose as your spirit guide?

Vic: Don Johnson from Miami Vice because he'd be suave.  Or Michael Knight from Knight Rider.  Or Peter Glaze [of Crackrjack].  He was quite short with little round specs and he'd look good if he appeared behind a bush in spectral form.

Bob: it would probably be quite good to have Jim [Vic's real name is Jim Moir].  He'd do anything you asked.  I'd get him to spy on people and report back.  I think he'd Iove it. I don't suppose he could carry a camcorder, but I'd like to see images from D-grade celebrities’ homes and Jim would be up for doing that.  I'd send him to spy on Anthea and Grant.  Could it be true that no one watched Anthea's show?  I take no pleasure in that.  I just couldn't believe her viewing figure was zero.  You'd think Grant would have tuned in, though.

Who has the better sense of style?

Vic: Bob has his own particular sense of style, which I admire. He’s a very clean man, but he wears dirty clothes.  I admire that because he pulls it off.  He sometimes buys unsightly shoes and I'll say, ‘I think we should burn them.' I've burned a lot of clothing and taken photographs of it.  I took a photograph of a pair of old woman's shoes on fire beneath a standing stone with a pool around the bottom.  I had eight copies printed; I'm going to frame them and offer them out at Christmas.

Bob: I have no sense of style and I get a lot of abuse for it.  But I'm beginning to think that I'm the more stylish man because I have no style.  I don't buy anything.  This is all bought for me by my girlfriend [points to his chunky sweater and scuffed jeans].  I hate male perfumes, male jewellers.  I hate walking into a room and the first thing people see is your suit.

Vic/Jim has said: 'People can't seem to understand that Vic is just a character I play.' Are they two different people?

Vic: It just goes back to the fact that not many people can pronounce Moir [rhymes with lawyer]. I changed my name because I was only going to do one night - and I thought it was right for that night.  'Vic' is when I'm on TV.

Bob: I think Vic and Jim are one and the same.

Who would you least like to be chained to a radiator with?

Vic: Terry Waite. Or Donald Duck.  I don't like the way he looks, I don't like the way he speaks.  His attitude is all wrong.  And his nephews!  If they were chained as well I'd slit my throat.  Eat them?  I'm not sure anyone's ever eaten a cartoon yet.

Bob: Bubble from Big Brother.  I'd probably irritate him - it wouldn't be a good mix.  I think Vic would pick Bigfoot out of Bigfoot And 7he Hendersons - that big hairy thing.

You wake up one day to discover you are women.  What kind of women would you be?

Vic: Probably much the same as the men that we are.  Vaguely interesting.  I don't think we'd be smart.  Eclectic.  I'd be wearing Victorian clothing, a high-necked, long, black dress, looking like a widow.  Or Miss Havisham in Great Expectations.  Dusty and dowdy.

Bob: I'd be the same as I am.  I’d be a mummy. I’d be like Nigella Lawson, but anonymous. Jim, he would be like Ulrika.

Complete the following: I’d die if I ever had to… again.

Vic: …live.

Bob: I couldn’t face doing the conveyancing on a house again. I used to do that in another life.

How do you make your kids laugh?

Vic: Stupid walks, fart jokes – they always win. I can’t fart to order, but I can belch to order. Words always make kids laugh. You’ve got to get on their level and sing things like, ‘There’s a woman on a bike, wike, thike, nike, fike, like.’ They love it.

Bob: Repeating a non-word such as ‘uballah’ over and over, very loudly – that seems to get them going. Or walking like a monkey.

What would you never, ever lend the other?

Vic: My car [a Jaguar], as he’s always crashing cars. The interior of his car [a Lexus] is like a council tip. When we were filming, we had a boot sale and put everything from his car on a trestle table. There was cat litter, one shoe, a bra, plants, food, jam – everything you could possibly imagine - stashed away.  He doesn't have his cars long.  I'd say it takes him about an hour and a half to fill one and perhaps two hours to wreck it.

Bob:  My dog and my cats.  He'd be useless.  He'd probably feed them the wrong stuff.

How do you know when he's down and how do you help him snap out of it?

Vic: I ring up Middlesbrough Football Club and tell them to pull their finger out.  He doesn't know I do this.  He gets into a terrible depression if they aren't doing very well, but that's the only time he does get depressed.  He always cheers me up with his cheeky grin.

Bob: I don't bother, he's always down, so there's no worries.

Who has the better body?

Vic: My body is turning into what it was like as a young boy - there's nothing there really.  Bob's is very manly - a big hairy chest, broad and brawny.  I'm in pretty good shape.  I do a lot of walking.  But Bob's in better shape than he's ever been.  He has this secretive world where he does a lot of digging.  He moves gravel around and stuff like that.

Bob: We fluctuate.  You'll see photo of him sixth months before and he'll be as trim as a tuppence.  But at this moment in time, I might be able to top him.  One thing Jim does is put weight on his face.  If he's had a Christmas where he's scoffed and drank for a week, it all goes on his face.

If you could send the other on a course, what would it be?

Vic: Fly-fishing.  I think he's got a secret wish to be a fisherman. We've been fishing about twice in 10 years.  I think it's something he'd be into.  I think he'd also benefit from learning how to draw. I would imagine his children can draw better than him.

Bob:   An assertiveness training weekend.  He came into work yesterday and said, 'The builders are after me for money.' I said, 'Have they done owt?' He says, 'Not that I can see.' So I said, 'It's very difficult, Jim, but when they phone up, if they haven't done the kitchen, the dining room and the bedroom, at least say, "Could you have the kitchen finished by five?" before you give them the cash.' He says  'Yeah, I'll try and get something out of them.' So he phones the builder and says, 'So you want some money? I'll put the cheque in the kitchen drawer.' He couldn't do it!

You’re in a room full of smart, beautiful women.  Who do they gravitate towards?

Vic: Neither of us, I'm convinced. They'd probably turn their backs us. Maybe they'd gather around Bob first because they'd want to mother him and I think that's the first urge of a group of beautiful women in a room.

Bob.  Jim.  He's sassy.  He's a single man and there's an air about him. You wouldn't notice me walking into a room.

Could you order for each other in restaurant?

Vic: Definitely.  He'd have what you consider old person's food  - tongue, potatoes and cabbage, and a steamed pudding with custard, with tea or a lager.  If he chose for me, he'd go for something more obscure. If there was something odd on the menu, I'd try it.

Bob: Jim always has the most bizarre thing on the menu.  He likes to try things.  He'd order me potatoes.

If you were invisible for a day, where would you hang out?

Vic: Can I breathe underwater or be ethereal?  I'd float over the capital and blow down chimneys and through windows at quite high speed.  I wouldn't be that interested in spying on anyone.  I might like to creep into a tiger's cage or maybe get inside an apple.  I wouldn't find anything interesting in being a peeping Tom.  I'd rather spy on a cat than a person.

Bob: I'm tempted to say at Grant and Anthea's again, but the truth, of course, is that I'd hang around wherever in 24 hours you'd see the most nude women.

How far would you go for friendship?  Would you: a) lend him your underpants; b) give him your kidney; c) help him on the toilet?

Vic:  a) I wouldn't want to wear his underpants.  Have you seen the state of them? b) I'd give him my kidney, depending on how many I had spare on my plate.  He'd enjoy it. c) I would help him on the toilet, yes, if I had to.

Bob:   a) Yes, I'm sure I would. b) Can you survive with only one?  I'd think about it. c) Yes, definitely.

What is the other's most irritating habit?

Vic:  He would probably say blowing his nose on his clothing.  But he quite often leaves some marmalade or something on the front seat of his car, so, when you get in, you really need to put a towel down first.

Bob: Not buying drinks.

What's the most endearing thing he's ever done?

Vic: Just being him really.  He always makes me laugh.  We're not present givers.  We ignore Christmases and birthdays.

Bob: There's lots. He bought me a very rare record, which surprised me. It was an original copy of Free Live! He always looks after me. With the odd lives we have, we do have to look out for each other. It's one of the stabilising things about being in a double act. You can't start being poncey because you've got the other person with you. You can help each other out.

What scares you?

Vic: I've got a terrible fear of heights.  Before I pass out, the sky comes in and I start ducking.

Bob: The thought of my children getting hurt.  You see something on the telly and think, 'God, if that were them, I couldn't bear it.'

Do you go on holiday together?

Vic: We do.  We've been off on our own a few times - we've been on motorcycling holidays, we've been camping.  We're probably quite insular.  We act like children.

Bob: On holiday, he's a bit too busy for me.  He can't sit down.  We're in a cafe and I just like watching people.  He'll be saying, 'Have you finished your fag?  Come on!'

If the partnership ended tomorrow, what would you both be good at?

Vic: I'd probably just paint pictures.  I think he'd like being a gardener or maybe do up houses.

Bob: I'd like to be a gardener, if I was financially able to just garden.  I can't act, so I wouldn't go down that line.  Jim does it already, but I suppose he'd like to paint.

What sort of old people will you be?

Vic: I will sit in an old people's home, staring out of the window, listening to a distant Alsatian.  I've often imagined myself sitting on a park bench with a dusty novel.  And a bottle of milk. If they stop putting milk in bottles, I'll be cantankerous and lead the march to Trafalgar Square to reinstate bottles of milk. I'd imagine Bob would be very much the same, but he'd be sitting on a dusty chair with a bottle of milk watching the TV - anything that's on.  He's a channel hopper.

Bob: Quite traditional, really: nice tweed suits, brogues, lonely. Together would be nice. We would probably be... [sighs at the inevitability] in a pub.

Former solicitor Bob Mortimer (42) was born only a few months and a few miles apart from Vic Reeves in Middlesbrough .  They didn't meet until 1986 when Vic was performing at the Goldsmith's Tavern in London.  Vic thought Bob was 'quite quiet' but it transpired he was eating a macaroon and didn't want to talk with his mouth full. Bob lives with his girlfriend Lisa Matthews and their children Harry (4) and Tom (3) in Kent .

Vic Reeves (42, James Roderick Moir to the Inland Revenue] lives in Kent with his wife Sarah (though they are separated) and their children, Alice (8), and Louis (4). It’s just down the road from Bob, at whose house they write every day. The two have had many series on TV including Shooting Stars, Families At War and Bang Bang It’s Reeves & Mortimer. Vic has also published a book of his paintings, sunboiledonions (Michael Joseph, £12.99).

Eve

Nov 2001

[a-marlene-s]

Futuristic Miraculous: Part 1

Couple: TerRI, Terry Mcginnis x Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug/Batman Beyond

Genre: Salt, hurt/comfort, friendship, and possibly more.

Summary: With her childhood friends close by, Marinette knew she could take on the world, even when dealing with a certain lair. It all first started with taking a job for being Jagged Stone’s personal designer and that resulted with her being in Neo-Gotham. All the while Terry is facing the fact he is the new Batman and dealing with all the past Robins wondering what Bruce was thinking in taking in a new kid into the cruel world that is of Superheroes.

Terry McGinnis x Marinette Dupain-Cheng: Futuristic            

Tag List: @battysorciere��

TerRi Sever: https://discord.gg/2qCNdjs

Age List: 

Bruce: 60

Dick: 43

Barbara: 42

Jason 39

Tim: 37

Damian: 34

Terry: 16

Marinette: 16

Penny R.: 32

Marinette refused to cry or look away as her classmates waiting to be picked up to go to the local airport. She could see many of them sneering, glaring or just giving her looks of pity. Then there was Lila… just giving a look that reminded Marinette of a cat that caught the canary.

At her right, Nino held back a snarl that threatened to escape his lips at the sight of Liar mocking his friend. At Marinette’s left, Kim is trying his hardest to hold back his own anger at what was happening. It’s completely unfair how things had turned out for Marinette. She had done everything she could for this trip to happen Neo-Gotham and for it to blow up in her face has become the last straw for her.

Marinette tried so hard to take the high road that the only thing she got out of it is broken friendships. Along with just seeing how depressing the world could be. It has been well over a year since Lila came to Paris and destroyed her life to the best of her abilities. Unfortunately for the Liar, Marinette has two best friends that managed to see through the lies and are now stand by her side through it all. Even going as far too foregoing Neo-Gotham for her.

With everyone’s back turn, Lila took the chance to send a menacing smirk to Marinette before boarding the bus with the rest of the class. Marinette’s eyes narrowed as everyone ignored them as the bus drove off, leaving them in its dust. This hurts.

Not as much as seeing the hurt in their faces when Lila’s reign over them comes tumbling down.

“Kim, Marinette, Nino, I have your work packets for the year.”  Ms. Mendeleiev approached the three students with three large packets of work. “I stapled my contact information in each packet. I will have the rest of your work on my website by the end of the month. The packets should be more than enough until then.”

“Thank you, Ms. Mendeleiev for your help.” Marinette thanked her instructor as she and her friends took their respective packets.

“If it means undermining, Miss Bustier, they by all means.” Ms. Mendeleiev snorted, she looked at her students, seeing the determination in their eyes. “If I was your homeroom instructor… things would have never gotten this far, I hope the three of you know this.”

“We know, Ms. Mendeleiev.” Marinette smiled sadly before she started to smirk. “I suppose we should be heading to the airport too if we want to catch our flight.”

“Penny said that a limo will be picking us up as soon as we give her a call.” Nino mentioned.

“Yeah, let’s call her! I want to see the looks on their faces when they see us flying first class!!!” Kim laughed.

Ms. Mendeleiev could only shake her head before she turned on her heal to leave. “Keep up with your work and keep me posted on your work.”

“Thank you, Ms. Mendeleiev.”  

-.-

Tim drank what feels like his hundredth cup of coffee in the past hour, it might as well be his hundredth cup of coffee at this point. He was supposed to be in Paris for just a simple and much needed vacation. But of course work has to come first before anything. This resulted with him waiting in the airport with a bunch of high school students that are to go back to Neo-Gotham with him as part of an exchange program set up by his associates and his old Alma mater.

Now… this wouldn’t be an issue. The actual issue being the fact that the one that did most of the work to make this program possible isn’t even here. Tim doesn’t buy that whole, ‘disciplinary actions’ and all that other crap the teacher tries to shove down his throat.  He ignored the rest of it and had emailed the associate that had put this together to send him the report from the missing student.

What Tim read made him wonder what the hell is going on in Paris. It makes it appear that they made the poor girl do all the dirty work and pushed her out of her own project at the last minute. As much he wants to forgo this trip, he has to keep up appearances as a CEO. Plus, who knows… maybe the kid will finally get a break from them.

Win-Win? No… it’s a lost for the girl that did everything she could to get her class to go on this trip. For nothing on her end.

“I happen to know Dick Grayson’s daughter, Mar’i Grayson! We are the closes of friends you know~”

Tim’s neck nearly snapped when he turned his attention to one of the French students. Once look over, and he could tell right off the bat she’s lying. First off… he knows all of Mar’i’s friends, safety precautions and to weed of anyone that wants to use her for connections. Second… this brat never spends a single day in the Manor and knew his own kids!!!! Tim guesses that the fact no one recognize him and assumed he’s some random employee that was supposed to be their guide or something.

Otherwise, the liar wouldn’t be spinning her tales otherwise.

“Why the hell are you here!!!”

Tim turned around to see three teens talking animated to a pink haired adult that is showing them a pamphlet. Considering they were all in the waiting terminal to catch the next plane, the four were blissfully unaware of their surroundings. That was until Miss Bustier approached the group but the woman that was holding the pamphlet pushed the teens behind her. Whatever was said by both adults, clearly made the teacher go on edge and the pink haired woman to smirk smugly at her.

With a heavy sigh, Tim drowned down his hundredth cup of coffee and headed towards what he suspects to be trouble.

“Marinette, Nino and Kim are under my supervision.” Penny stated, her expression neutral to hide her contempt. “I have their parents’ permission, the school is notified and that is all you need to know.”

Bustier’s mouth went agape at the woman’s words, even more so at the sight of her student’s smirks that were directed her way. Those three were supposed to be back at the school, not here in the airport. Not being here, waiting for the same plane as they are. She shook her head and tried to say something when it was announced that their flight is about ready to board, informing everyone to get to their spots.

“We must get going.” Penny said, pushing past Bustier and the rest of the students that decided to surround them. “We to get in line.”

Kim and Nino took hold of Marinette and pushed through the crowd as it appeared their fellow classmates were not planning on letting them through. The last thing they needed is more fuel to the fire by having Marinette being singled out for something she didn’t do. Again. Marinette for her own part, ignored the glares and everyone’s attempt to get her attention. As of now, they are not worth her time.

Marinette did however stick out her tongue out at Lila when she caught the other teen glaring at her. Might as well have some fun for now.

Tim, who had been watching, watched as the Marinette Dupain-Cheng be pulled away by her friends by her… friends? Classmates? Whatever she considers them, considering how majority of them were not comforting the now crying Liar. The Liar kept crying on and on how Marinette supposedly had stepped on her foot on purpose.

“Miss Bustier, is there a problem?” Tim asked, causing the French teacher to suck in a deep breath. Ah, she forgot about him. Figures. “Well?”

“Just a miscommunication is all.” Bustier tried to say.

“I assume that was Miss Dupain-Cheng?” Tim asked, raising an eyebrow at Bustier. “The one that is supposed to be dealing with disciplinary problems?”

“She chopped off Lila’s hair!” One of the teens seethed out as she tried to sooth the Lair’s tears away. “And she just stepped on her foot.”

Tim looked at Lila to see that her shoes were scruff free, her hair… well, it’s in a bob. He could only shake his head. Oh, how much he wants to cancel this trip. He’s close to doing it too. Taking in a deep breath, he looked back at Bustier. “Far as I am concerned, she is not part of this trip. You have no control over them. You, however, have control over the rest of your students. Now go get in line, we are about to board.”

-.-

Tim sat in his first class seat, asking the stewardess for a large cup of coffee. When he gets back home, he’s going to apologize to Bruce for all the shit he ever pulled on him throughout the years. This doesn’t include his own kids, but that is beside the point of it all. He had to deal with a bunch of whiny teens that are going on and on how the evil Marinette getting first class seats while they all have coach. Evil this, evil that, and here he was talking with said evil person, chatting away on her dream of becoming a fashion designer and how the Jagged Stone has hired her personally to design his clothes while he’s on tour.

It also helps that the woman from earlier, Penny Rolling is Jagged’s agent and confirmed her story. From what Tim could summarize what had happened was that Lila Rossi had cut her own hair to the point it was unsalvageable and blamed it on Marinette, claiming the designer did it. No one took Marinette’s side except for her two friends, Kim and Nino.

Despite the fact that Marinette was with Kim and Nino when this… accident had occurred, no one bothered to listen to reason. This caused Tim really regret not canceling the trip for the other Parisians. That was until Penny made mention that there was no point in going up against the girl… at that instant. If the girl wants a to be the center of attention, oh, she will get it.

Tim couldn’t help but laugh at the agent’s words before he quickly sobered up. Despite the fact Marinette and her friends are still going to Neo-Gotham, but they won’t have the same experience as the others… although, thinking further into it, it wouldn’t be all that great of a trip for them if Rossi keeps trying to sabotage them at every step.

At least they found a way to enjoy their time in the city…

“Excuse me, Mr. Drake…?”

Tim looked up at one of the stewardess to see her holding a note. “Is something the matter?”

“You have a message from one… Dick Grayson” The stewardess replied uncertainty, handing over the note to Tim.

Tim took the note and a raised eye brow. He watched as the stewardess scurry of before looking down at the note. Unfolding it to see what was written on it only caused both eyebrows to shot up.

Check the Neo-Gotham news!

Tim pulled out his cellphone and turned it back on. By the time his phone had booted up, he was bombarded by many missed texts, lost calls, and many news notifications all stemming from his home city. When he went to check on the latest text, he got another notification from a news station he follows.

Tapping on the notification and the headline of the article has him quickly making a group call with all the former batboys.

Tomorrow is Here, The Return of Batman!

“Okay, which one of you did it. Which one of you is the new Batman… What did you expect, Jason! I haven’t been in the same country, let alone continent… I don’t know, Damian! Bruce prefers to be alone and hardly bothers to talk to anyone outside of the family… Thanks Dick…  Let’s get this straight, whoever this new Batman is, is none of us… That’s what I thought.” Tim pulled his phone away from his ear as Dick, Jason and Damian started to argue among themselves on whatever is going on in Neo-Gotham. Apparently, there’s a new Batman and they have no clue who took on the old mantle of the Dark Night. Or as the Tomorrow Knight as people are taking to call him as now. Taking in a deep breath, Tim put the phone back by his ear. “I’m on a plan heading back home. I’ll talk to Bruce about this… What do you guys mean you won’t be here until then?… Just get here as soon as possible.”

-.-

Terry double checked that he has all of Bruce’s medications counted before placing them all in a small plant along with a sandwich and a steaming cup of tea. If he’s going to be dubbed Bruce Wayne’s part-time assistant, he might as well play the part. He has nothing against it, the old man is giving him the opportunity in becoming the new Batman. Plus, but the looks of it, there was really no one there to help Bruce as often as needed. Mainly making sure the guy doesn’t have a heart attack by doing the simplest of tasks… like saving him.

Terry shook his head as he picked up the tray and headed towards the room where Bruce is with Ace. Taking in a deep breath, he made his way to his new mentor.

Pushing the door open, Terry caught Bruce putting something away in his coat. He raised an eyebrow but made no comment. For all he knew it was other medication Bruce doesn’t want him to know about. “Remind me to go grocery shopping later. For a rich guy, your pantry is pretty bare.”

“Alfred used to keep the place stock…” Bruce briefly mentioned, reaching over to Ace to scratch his head. “Tim mainly just whatever he thinks is best for me…which isn’t much.”

“Tim?”

“One of my sons. You will be seeing him often as he pops by to make sure I’m properly taking care of myself.” Terry could hear the eye roll Bruce did at the mention of taking care of himself. “If you see a thirty something year old male that looks like he’s on the verge of collapsing… it’s him.”

“Is… is this the same man that took over Wayne Enterprises?” Terry enquired, placing the tray on a small table next to Bruce’s chair.

“He is. Out of my four sons, he took the most interest in taking over the company.”

“Got it.” Terry grumbled, taking a seat opposite of Bruce. He watched as the older male take his sandwich and eat it uninterestingly. A thought popped through his head suddenly, causing him to tense. “All your sons were past Robins and the occasional Batman… right?”

Bruce eyed Terry suspiciously before nodding, taking another bite from his food. “Your point?”

“Did you tell any of them about me?” Terry asked.

“I did not. I wouldn’t be surprised if one of them barges through that door… right about now.”

Slam!

The doors of the room slammed open to reveal a very sleep deprived male, frantically looking around for who knows what. When his eyes landed on Terry, his slowly blinked over to Bruce and back at Terry before leaving the room. An awkward silence filled the air when the sound of the front door being slammed open and shut.

Terry looked over at Bruce just to see the man still munching on his sandwich. “Who was that?”

“That would be Tim.” Bruce said without missing a beat.

Terry looked taken aback at that statement. The same guy that’s supposed to look after Bruce, the same guy that looks like he’s going to keel over? Yeah, no. Tim looks like he hasn’t slept in months and is need of a proper meal. “…And he now the head of Wayne Enterprise?”

“I’m one of the chairmen.” Bruce stated.

The sound of the front door being slammed open reverberated throughout the seemingly quiet manor. Stomping all the way to the room Terry and Bruce are in. Tim came back, staring at Terry with a wide variety of emotions. “Who are you? Did Bruce adopt you? What’s your backstory? What’s your name…?”

Terry looked taken aback, he looked over at Bruce, hoping for some sort of help. Nope. The old man just took his medication and used his tea to drink it down. “…”

“Well?” Tim questioned, storming into the room. He now stood in between Bruce and Terry, waiting for the teen to answer his questions. “Who are you?”

“His father used to work for Wayne Enterprises.” Bruce butted in, emphasizing on a particular word.  

This only caused Tim to raise his hands into the air in defeat as he caught drift on Bruce’s meaning of the words, used to. “Great…. He did take in another one… If you’ll excuse me, I need to talk to my brothers.”

With that, Tim one again left the room leaving being a very perplexed Terry and annoyed Bruce.

“What the hell was that?” Terry questioned.

“…He gets like that whenever he’s off his coffee.”

-.-

Marinette, Nino and Kim did their best to ignore how Neo-Gotham gave them the creeps. It was clear the city needed massive cleaning up when it comes to crime. From what they had gathered, things had deteriorated since Batman had hung his cape for good. Shortly being followed by his former sidekicks. Since then, crime has risen to the point it makes them wonder if the city will ever be crime-free.

Maybe they’ll help while they are in the city for the time being.

“Spots On!”

“Shell On!”

“Show Time!”

-.-

Tim sat in front of the computer mainframe inside the Batcave, on a multi-line video chat with Dick, Barbara, Jason and Damian. “You know him, Barbs?”

“Terrence ‘Terry’ McGinnis has multiple run ins with the GCPD. Even serving a three-month stint in juvie for running with a street gang.” Commissioner Barbara Gordon said, her expression stern and not at all liking the fact that Bruce had managed to find someone to take over the mantle of Batman.

Jason whistled at that. “Damn. What this kids’ home life like?”

“His father was murdered the other night… in order to keep him quiet.” Barbara said, her eyes narrowed down onto Tim. For his own part, Tim wanted to earth to swallow him up. “Something about one of your business partners, by the name of Derek Powers, was creating a formula and one Warren McGinnis was a part of the research division of it.”

Once more, Tim slumped further into his chair as he thought over the business deal he had with Derek Powers. It was nothing out of the ordinary really. They both had something the other needed, and Powers just wanted to use the Wayne’s Labs for further research on a formula. Nothing out of the norm really! This has been done multiple times with different companies in the past. But it appears this time around… it was anything but the norm.

“Powers had Warren killed. Terry found out, and wanted payback. What’s new?” Damian rolled his eyes not at all amused by the entire situation. “I just want to know how he managed to get the suit.”

“Bruce is refusing to tell me anything and all of you know how he is.” Tim said, fixing himself back into the seat before he had the chance to fall off it.

“Does he gave a family?” Dick asked quietly, almost being talked over by Jason demanding Tim to demand for more answers.

Once again, Barbara answered. “He’s now living with his mother and had a younger brother.”

“Do they get along?” Jason asked.

“They do. More so after Terry’s return from juvie.”

“You know something…” Jason mused, he wasn’t facing the screen anymore, paying more attention to whatever was on his phone. “If I didn’t know any better…”

“Which you don’t.” Damian butted in.

“Shut it squirt!” Jason shot back.

“I’m not a child anymore, Todd!”

“That’s enough!” Dick said, breaking up a possible fight. “No more fighting. We’re not children anymore.”

Jason tsk’ed but continued with his train of thought. “The kid looks a lot like Damian when he was around that age.”

At this, everyone turned their attention to Damian who’s eyes nearly popped out of his head, nearly choking on a beverage he was drinking. “Let me assure you, I am not like father who sleeps with random women.”

“…You got to admit… Terry has Bruce’s chin…” Dick pointed out.

Silence…

“Who wants to bet Bruce didn’t wear a condom?”

A sharp ring interrupted any possible bets, Tim reached up and started to figure out what set off the alarm. Pulling up a screen that showed something… really, really… really odd. “So… a ladybug, a turtle and a monkey walked into a movie theater that’s being held up in gun point…”

TBC.

If anyone wants to be part of the tag list, don’t hesitate to ask

[auburnfamilynews]

Chuck Cook-USA TODAY Sports

Time to Barn Hard

Here we go... With under 24 hours until the kickoff of Auburn’s 2020 season, the luminaries here at College & Magnolia offer their sage opinions on what Tiger fans will see tomorrow afternoon. Most of us see a close contest destined to give us that all too familiar fall Saturday heartburn but there are a few brave souls who are prepared to barn hard no matter what.

Auburn (-7.5) vs Kentucky (O/U 49.5)

2019 Auburn fans won’t recognize 2020 Auburn. Bo Nix is going to take a huge leap forward. His receivers are healthy for game one. Our fearless leader has finally found someone he trusts enough to manage playcalling duties. The defense will reload with All-Conference (and maybe All-American) talent. A talented (and deep!) group of hard-hitting running backs. Pre-season optimism has overwhelmed pre-game jitters for me. Look for Chad Morris to show off all his weapons Saturday. He has a tendency to put up a lot of points in his first game at a new school. Brace yourselves, Wildcats. Let’s barn hard, yall.

Auburn 48

Kentucky 14

-Josh Dub

I was talking with a friend of my wife’s the other day and she asked how I thought Auburn would do. I was raised by an old school Auburn fan who taught me to sandbag and say that we were just hoping that everyone buckled their chin straps correctly and that they just had fun out there. That was met with my wife telling her, I always do this. I responded by saying that I just lower the bar so that, when they win by 40 in a game I don’t expect, I get the rush of being a kid again and genuinely happy when Auburn wins.

That said! HERE WE GO!

Auburn has got stars everywhere on the outside and in the backfield but a bunch of green horns on the starting line on offense, so IF Chad Morris (or Gus if he is still calling the plays) can use quick screens and....this route called a slant...to hide the fact that the Auburn offensive line will look a lot like the French army circa 1938, then they might buy a few chances for Anders to kick some field goals.

On defense, you don’t lose D Brown and Marlon and get better. You probably don’t maintain the production you had last year on the D-Line. You can get back there, but that takes time and experience. That said, I am a bit more bullish on the defense as a whole. There is a ton of talent to go around on the line and the secondary and the Linebackers may be the best in the conference. Once again, the defense will keep Auburn in every game for the most part. And that new line will be tested against a really well coached, running offense that Kentucky brings to the Plains.

I love what Mark Stoops has been able to build in Lexington, and sort of done what Matt Campbell has done at Iowa State, that team you just don’t want to see cause they are scrappy and will take advantage of your mistakes. On the betting lines, I am staying away from this one with spendy cashy monies but with fakey non-existant moneies, I love the Cats getting a touchdown and a hook because I see this one being in the 3-4 range with Auburn probably winning, just based on history and going with my heart, but I could totally see Kentucky pulling this off as well.

Gimme Auburn over Kentucky 27-24 and the defense had to get a late stop to seal this one away. Nothing like a late missed FG to start that stomach ulcer.

(betting pick: UK and the points, Over at 51)

-Drew Mac

Auburn *should* win this game. Auburn *should* have the talent advantage. But hey, this is 2020. Who knows what havoc Covid will have wrought on install for any given team.

That being said, I trust Bo Nix’s development as a true sophomore. I think this Auburn team, while still going through some growing pains, will finally start to hit on explosive plays with a veteran WR corps. This Kentucky defense is not the one that one 10 games two years ago.

The only way things go sideways is if the retooled defensive line can’t stop the Kentucky ground game, which is an extremely valid concern. The Wildcats have three returning backs who combined for 1,900 yards and 18 TDs while sharing the spotlight with Lynn Bowden Jr last year, and Terry Wilson is no slouch. I think the Auburn linebackers are going to have to earn their keep as best LB group in the SEC here in week 1.

Auburn takes this one with some big plays through the air and a defense that bucks up in the second half. 27-13 Auburn.

-Ryan Sterritt

I’m a huge proponent of playing a patsy in week 1. In a normal season fall camp doesn’t really give a complete picture of how an offensive line communicates in real time, how well the quarterback has his timing down with his receivers, if the tailback has fumbling problems, mike linebacker being able to switch the defensive alignment based on tendencies, etc. etc. But if you can’t play a patsy I’m a huge proponent of playing a top 10 team who will keep you engaged without distractions leading up to kickoff and will tell you so much about where you can go from here. What you don’t want is a trap game in week 1.

Folks what we have here is a trap game in week 1.

We’re 14 points better than Kentucky. I genuinely believe that. Talent wise and coaching we’re at least 2 scores better than this football team at home. And it does not matter one bit thanks to COVID.

I am so concerned over what we’re going to look like out there considering how many guys were held out at various points of our extended fall camp thanks to COVID. Which wouldn’t be as big of a deal in a normal year, even though it would still be a big deal, but OH YEAH WE HAD NO SPRING PRACTICE. So in keeping with my tradition of being absolutely God awful at Barnin’ Hard, this tiger ain’t changing his stripes for this one.

Keys to victory:

- Stop a Kentucky ground attack with a defensive line that is fully capable of plugging the gaps and have your linebackers make plays in space. This will only work if our corners, who will be in a lot of one on one situations, make plays. Jaylin Simpson is the guy that will get picked on, and this is a fine opportunity for the redshirt freshman to get thrown into the deep end to see if he’ll sink or swim in his first meaningful snaps. If he can hold his own, we’re in good shape.

- Establish an intermediate passing attack early in this game. Keep their defense off balance early on the offensive script and allow Bo Nix and an offensive line that will struggle but has a higher ceiling than that of the last 2 seasons gain some confidence early.

- Get the fastest player in all of college football 10 touches/targets for the day. This one may appear in all 10 entries of “Keys to Victory” for our schedule this year. Scheme to get Anthony Schwartz the ball in multiple ways. And then scheme off of it to get other players in positions to be in favorable coverages.

- Rotate your running backs in a way that makes sense instead of giving the “guy with the hot hand” 25 carries. This running back room is deeper and more talented than it has been since the healthy parts of 2016/2017 for Pettway and KJ. Give these guys a chance to punish Kentucky’s defense with fresh legs for 4 quarters. Make them hate playing us.

- Oh, and finally, get some sound sleep and show up alert for an 11 AM kickoff. I don’t need to explain to any of you why this is obviously something we should all worry over.

All in all I think being at home does matter, despite 20,000 people in the stands. Traveling in these uncertain times has to account for something, right?

Auburn 27 Kentucky 21

-Josh Black

If the first few weeks of football are any indication, I’m expecting some low scoring sloppy games on Saturday. And while Auburn’s rivals have essentially “warmup games” to start their season, Auburn will play another ranked opponent in Week 1. That’s JABA right?

Anyways, I’m really excited to see this group of Running Backs led by Captain Shaun Shivers this season. I’m really excited to see Shaun get the opportunity to start and it’ll be interesting to see how many carries he and the rest of the RBs get on Saturday. This is an experienced receiving corps too led by Seth Williams, “Flash” Anthony Schwartz and veteran Eli Stove.

The biggest question to me (other than the offensive line) will be the defensive line as it’s hard replacing Derrick Brown and Marlon Davidson. And we can all hope for better O-Line play this season and a more mature Bo Nix as he enters Year 2 as the starting QB.

As I said earlier, I’m thinking this is a low-scoring game and I’m a bit concerned about this one, with the 11AM kick and all but I’ll take Auburn in a close one.

Auburn 17 Kentucky 14

-Will McLaughlin

I firmly believe Auburn has a significant talent advantage at the skill positions in this matchup. Yes the Cats have an athletic QB, a strong stable of backs, intriguing WRs and a surprisingly good secondary but across the board I’ll take Auburn. However, it won’t matter if the Tigers lose the line of scrimmage battle which is way more likely than any of us wanna imagine.

As you have probably read, heard, seen by now, Kentucky has one of the best offensive lines in the country. This isn’t a group made up of 3-star kids with heart. Left tackle Landon Young was a 5-star recruit. Center Drake Jackson was a 4-star ranked as a top 150 player. Future NFLer Darian Kinnard was a 4-star recruit as well. This is both an experienced AND talented front who enjoy physically beating the hell out of their opponents. Everyone in the world knew that a run play was likely coming last fall and it rarely mattered. While I trust Rodney Garner & Kevin Steele to rebuild this front 4 for the Tigers, I am concerned about them being ready to go week 1. Even with Derrick Brown and Marlon Davidson last year, Oregon pushed around the Tigers for one half. This UK OL is of the same calibre and it wouldn’t shock me if they came out the gate with similar success.

Then there’s the other side of the ball where the UK return plenty of experience of a solid front 7. However, they were actually pretty porous against the run last fall allowing over 5 yards a carry against SEC competition. The problem is I am not sure if Auburn is ready to take advantage. In most years, when I see a defense susceptible to the run, I expect an AU victory that borders on dominant. I just don’t know if the Tigers though will be ready to go on Saturday.

That’s why Anders Carlson will be the x-factor. I think Auburn’s offense will look disjointed but generate enough explosive plays to get into UK territory consistently. They don’t put the ball in the end zone as much as we would like but Anders knocks through 4 big kicks. The defense rebounds from a rough first quarter to limit the UK offense to only 2 touchdowns on the day. Auburn recovers a late onside kick to escape with a hard won victory.

Auburn 26 Kentucky 20

-AU Nerd

Auburn at 11am.

Auburn in season openers.

Auburn as favorites vs hungry teams.

Yuck. I am finding it hard to Barn as hard...——record scratch—-

(The boys are back in town starts playing)

Just kidding!

The Boys are back!

Guys we are gonna kill em.

Auburn 34- Kats 24

-Son of Crow

Most of the time I have some idea of what to expect. There’s a gut feeling, an inkling, an intuition. Even days when I publicly avow a big win, and we end up losing, I realize that I knew it deep in my soul. This time, I have nothing. I guess that’s what 2020 will do to a man. I can’t pick this game with my heart or my gut, so I have to go with the limited knowledge that we’ve been able to glean from the practice fields. Somehow, Gus has kept it tighter than usual this season. He’s keeping spies, leaks, and COVID out of the fold.

It’s not a big secret that Auburn’s level of talent is superior across the board, but Kentucky might have the mix of experience to go along with its skill to make this a very scary opening contest. We’ve heard that the Wildcats’ lines are both going to be solid, and that gives us a flashback of what the Oregon offense was able to do for about a half last year in Arlington. Auburn can’t afford a slow start on Saturday, because we’ll be breaking in a new offensive line. Now, that might not be the worst thing in the world — our line last year was nothing much to write home about — but they started to get better down the stretch. That said, this year’s group might be more maulers than linemen. Sometimes you just need some dudes being guys up front to push people around. We might have that, thus the run game could come to life with a much more talented group in the backfield. Not to mention, Bo Nix’s sophomore development with a true quarterback coach could be something unparalleled.

Kentucky will give us a fight, but there’s no way I’m picking us to lose this game. It’ll probably be close, and uncomfortably so for a while I’d wager. Still, the home “crowd” and the overall talent win out in the end. I think someone else mentioned Anders Carlson being a weapon in this one, and I agree. I think he hits 3 kicks and Auburn scores 3 touchdowns. Tigers 30-21.

-Jack Condon

In our preseason predictions I pegged this as one of the three games that Auburn could lose, and had it at the top of my list as the one I’m most worried about. That may seem weird, but we really just have no clue how any team, including our own is going to look on Saturday. We’ve all seen how bad some of these other teams already playing have looked, and I guess people think that there’s no way their own team could look that bad, but I’m not so sure. That said, I believe this Auburn team has all the components necessary to be better than last season and thus easily handle a Kentucky team that is, well they’re Kentucky. The new look offense should give an older, more seasoned Bo Nix a chance to throw some higher percentage passes, we have an SEC caliber stable of running backs for the first time in a couple of seasons, and presumably a fully healthy group of receivers. The new-look offensive line doesn’t concern me at all, because, well, I’ve lived through the last two seasons. At this point Kevin Steele and co. have earned my utmost confidence that the defense will pick up right where they left off.

Tigers 37 - Cats 12

-AU Chief

Man alive I wish I wasn’t so worried about this. Kentucky is well coached. They know what they are, and they don’t try to do things outside their comfort zone. Their strengths could cause problems for us. And yet, Auburn has more talent. 2020 is going to be a weird year, but I think having better athletes is going to win out more often than not, because teams are going to have to keep things simple. I like everything I’m hearing out of fall camp. I still don’t know about that line though. I could see a backdoor cover for UK where Auburn has to recover an onside kick to clinch things. I could see a front door cover for Auburn putting the game away late. I’ll stay on the safe side.

Auburn 24

Kentucky 17

(Auburn wins, UK covers; under)

-James Jones

from College and Magnolia - All Posts https://www.collegeandmagnolia.com/2020/9/25/21456468/staff-picks-8-auburn-vs-23-kentucky

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Daughter of Freddie Mercury; Freddie Mercury x pre-teen/teen reader pt.1

*Author’s note*

Hello all! Okay now this fic had taken me literally FOREVER TO DO. This was a request that a Wattpad user had asked me to do for a friend of theirs and this fic specifically revolves around Freddie Mercury (can be read as either the real man himself or Rami Malek!Freddie). Now keep in mind this is ALL FICTION. So what I’ve written in regard to Freddie, please DON’T GIVE ME ANY HATE, THIS WAS SPECIFICALLY REQUIRED FOR THE REQUEST. Anyways this is only just the first part and I will have the 2nd part up in just a bit. I hope you all enjoy this fic you lovely darlings :)

Warnings: family abandonment, fluff, angst, SOB P**l P**nt**, hints of family neglect (previous parents, but it will be heavily induced in the 2nd part), mentions of drugs (again in 2nd part). 

Taglist:

@psychosupernatural

@geek-and-proud

___________________________________________________________

*December 1978*

It all began with a conversation between Freddie and Mary. Freddie had just come back from yet another world tour and he was sitting with Mary in their living room on their couch. She was resting on his chest while he stroked her hair with one hand while the other hand was stroking his cat Romeo who was napping just on the other side of him.

"You know what would make this moment even more perfect my love?" Freddie suddenly spoke up.

"What is that?" Mary asked as she nuzzled herself closer to Freddie's chest.

"A child." Mary looked at Freddie in shock. Freddie looked at her and asked, "What?"

"Freddie.....it's just that....we've never really talked about having children yet. Plus you're always touring, how will we ever find time to even try for a baby."

"There is another option we can try for." He fully turned to face Mary and explained to her, "The last concert we did, the stadium was raising money for charity benefits for the foster children programs of Seattle. Apparently one of their foster care houses was falling to pieces, barely able to keep their kids safe and warm at night. I myself asked Terry to let me see the housing itself and oh Mary it was truly horrible. The windows were cracked, the bricks were almost crumbling. It looked more like a prison than a foster care housing. There wasn't even a playground for the children to play in. But thanks to our concert in Seattle, that foster housing will be able to get the full makeover it deserves. Mary, I think we can make a difference and give a misfitted child a second chance at love. Just like what the band stands for as a band."

"Freddie, you have to be sure. A child is a huge responsibility. They're not like an instrument that you can just put aside till you're ready to play with them again."

"I understand my love. And I won't. We won't. I believe we can do this. Let's make a child happy and show them that someone is ready to take them home to a beautiful mother that will give them all the love in the world, and a father who is ready to spoil them to oblivion."

Mary looked at Freddie with soft eyes and she told him as she cupped his face with her right hand.

"If you're sure, I'll....I'll look around and find the nearest foster care home and see if any children are available for adopting. Do you have a preference?"

"A girl, I've always imagined having a little girl that I could spoil and give her all the riches of the world. But also protect her from the nasty little boys that try to tempt her." Mary smiled and shook her head playfully at him. And it was then they officially agreed together.

They were going to foster and hopefully soon adopt a little girl.

Due to the rise of Queen, Freddie couldn't really be as a part of the adoption process of finding a little girl that he and Mary can love together. He would try his best but scheduling would come up and Mary would insist that Queen needed him and that she can handle it.

During one rehearsal Freddie had been off in his own world when Roger tried to get his attention.

"Freddie? Oi Freddie!" Roger then tossed on of his drumsticks at him which made Freddie exclaim out in pain.

"What was that for you arsehole?"

"How else was I supposed to get your attention?" snapped Roger.

"You've been more distracted than usual Fred, is there something going on that we don't know about?" asked Brian. At first Freddie wanted to keep the fact that he and Mary were in the process of fostering their future child a secret, but he felt like the band needed to know.

I mean after all, they would be his future daughter's uncles so he finally decided to tell them.

"Alright my darlings, there is something that Mary and I are planning."

"Oh Christ you didn't elope did you?" said John.

"Don't be ridiculous Deacy darling, if we did elope I'd never forgive myself for not informing you lot first of all to bear witness to it. But no it's.....something a bit more.....drastic."

"Knowing you, how much more drastic can it be?" joked Roger.

"We're in the process of fostering a child." At that proclamation, Roger, Brian and John all stared at Freddie in shock. Silence rang through the air and it was then Brian finally spoke up.

"You're joking right?"

"I most certainly am not Brian." Freddie stated.

"Look Freddie no offense but.....do you know the first thing about raising a child?" asked John.

"Not a damn clue, but that's the beauty of it. Mary and I will learn together as we go."

"Freddie.....a child isn't something that you can just pick up like clothing at the shop. They're a big responsibility. And with Queen rising as fast as we're going, when will you help Mary out to raise it?" Deacy said speaking from experience since he himself was a father of a son.

"If you lads think that I will just flat out abandon Mary and my future daughter you're sadly mistaken. I will give my future daughter the love she was probably denied for so long. I want to help her find a second chance and show her that she was never meant to be alone. That someone out there beyond the reaches of the foster home, that someone is waiting to love her."

The rest of the band were surprised to hear this sudden dedication that Freddie had, like he was sure that he was ready to become a father to a child that had no father, plus god knows what else the child might've gone through.

Suddenly the phone rang.

Freddie walked towards the phone and picked it up and said.

"Freddie Mercury speaking darling,"

'Freddie.' Mary's voice was soon heard on the other end.

"Hello my love."

'Freddie......we've been accepted.' Freddie's body tensed and he straightened himself up and he choked out.

"Y—you sure?"

'Yes, The Central London's Foster care for children just got back with me and they've told me we've been approved to come and meet our future daughter.'

Finally, after months and months of being on the waiting list, going to countless interviews and housing inspections to make sure they were choosing the right parents, Mary Austin and Freddie Mercury were approved to finally foster the child of their dreams.

"That's....what's wonderful! Oh my love it's finally going to happen. You're going to be a mum!"

'And you're gonna be a dad.' Mary sobbed happily.

"When...when can we meet our little angel?"

'They asked to meet them in the next hour and a half. I told them that I had to talk to you first to see if you could make it.'

"Of course my love! Call them right back and tell them that I'll be there in 20 minutes. I can't believe this is happening."

'Me neither, I'll see you there Freddie.'

"See you soon love of my life." With that Freddie hung up the phone and he couldn't help with wide smile that spread across his face and the tears that secretly spilled down his eyes. He wiped them away and composed himself before turning to his bandmates and said to them. "Well my darlings, Mary and I are going to pick up your future niece, and I will introduce you all tomorrow at my place, be there at 10am sharp." And with that Freddie left right in the middle of their rehearsal time and drove towards the foster home.

And like he said, within 20 minutes, he arrived after having or having not disobey traffic laws and he soon saw his lovely wife Mary standing outside the building with the Foster home's leading director Miss. Boynton.

Freddie parked his car and raced up towards Mary and picked her up in a strong hug and spun her around. Mary laughed as she held onto Freddie tightly and once he set her down they both turned to Mrs. Boynton and Freddie said.

"We can't thank you enough Mrs. Boynton, for making our dreams come true."

"It was no trouble. At first I was skeptical that the leading man of Queen was looking to foster one of our children, but you've proven me wrong. That even with your busy schedule, you're willing to drop everything to help support your future child." She stated.

"Of course, I would do anything for my girls." Freddie said as he pulled Mary close in a one armed hug and kissed her temple which made Mary softly giggle. "So when can we meet her?"

"If you will just follow me to my office we can discuss that matter right away." Mary and Freddie soon followed Mrs. Boynton inside and she guided them to her office.

Once they got there, Freddie and Mary sat at the two chairs in front of a large desk while Mrs. Boynton came around and sat in her leather chair.

"Now you've already expressed that you both are interested in a daughter, correct?"

"Yes, that is correct." Answered Mary.

"Now what I have to ask is what age range were you thinking? Are you both set on the younger children or the toddlers, or are you looking for someone older?"

"We honestly don't have a preference. We just want to give our future little girl all the love that she has been denied." Answered Freddie. Mrs. Boynton hummed and nodded at Freddie's statement.

"Well, there is one girl here that might fit that description. But I must warn you she's.....been through a lot." She then sat up and went to a filing cabinet and took out a file and handed it to Mary. She opened it up and both her and Freddie read it as Mrs. Boynton explained, "Her name is (y/n) (l/n). She's....been our longest foster child in all my years of working here. Came to us as a baby around 5-6months old when she was found outside our doorstep. I was actually the one to find her when I was still an assistant here before I was promoted to the head of the foster home. She's had multiple interviews and been in multiple homes but for some reason within a couple months, she's back at our step. Soon no one would look at her file the older she got. As you can see based on her birthday she's 11 now, and I'm afraid if she isn't adopted or at least in a stable foster home by 13, then I fear no one will want her. Most people never want a teenager, they always prefer the younger kids."

Hearing her story just shattered and broke Freddie's heart.

"Where is the little dear at right now?" he asked.

"Where she usually is, in her room listening to her Walkman. I can try to bring her here if you want."

"Please do, I wish to meet her."

"Okay, but don't get offended if she doesn't answer right away. She's extremely shy when it comes to these things." And with that, she left her office to go fetch (y/n). As they continued to read through her file, Mary shook her head and said.

"How can people just be so awful to a little girl?"

"People can be bastards I'm afraid my love, but that won't be us. We'll always be there to look after her." Freddie said as he took her free hand in his. They both looked at each other and Freddie then said, "Who knows, within three days we'll probably be begging for the legal adoption papers." Mary smiled and softly laughed and it was then they heard the door open and peeked in was Mrs. Boynton.

"Ms. Austin, Mr. Mercury, I'd like you both to meet (y/n) (l/n)." She then fully opened the door and standing shyly behind her was a young girl of 11 years old with (h/l) (h/c), (s/c) skin, and the brightest (e/c) you had ever seen. "Go on, it's alright." The young girl slowly stepped out from behind Mrs. Boynton and shyly looked up at both Freddie and Mary.

Both Freddie and Mary looked at each other before turning to look at (y/n) with soft eyes. They both fully stood up and they knelt down in front of her and Mary did the introductions.

"Hello (y/n), we're so glad to finally meet you in person. I'm Mary and this is my love Freddie." When (y/n) turned to Freddie, there was a sudden realization of who exactly was standing in front of her. And it made her three times embarrassed because of the shirt she was wearing.

"Hello (y/n), we're so honored to meet you. I was almost expecting to see a normal little girl but you my darling are an angel sent straight out of heaven. Who also has good taste in music," he had to tease her as he pointed out the black Queen shirt of the boys in the Bohemian Rhapsody silhouette.

"So you're a fan of Queen?" asked Mary. (Y/n) played with her fingers and looked down shyly before surprisingly nodding to answer Mary's question.

"How would you like to see where all the magic that Queen makes happen?" asked Freddie. That got (y/n) to look up at him in surprise. "But you have to agree to at least come home with Mary and I and stay with us for a while, do we have a deal?" He held out his hand and stuck his pinkie up. (Y/n) looked between him and his hand before finally reaching up and wrapping her pinkie with his as a pinkie promise sealing the deal.

After getting the forms filled out that she would be legally fostered under Mary Austin and Freddie Mercury's care, (y/n) once again left the foster home and rode with Mary back to their house with Freddie following right behind them. Along the way, Mary thought it would be best to have some girl-to-girl time on the car ride home.

So she asked (y/n) some small questions like what her favorite foods were, what she liked to drink, what type of clothing she preferred, just small little questions to make her feel comfortable. Slowly (y/n) started opening up and she even began to ask Mary some questions like how she met Freddie and Mary went on to tell her, her story of how she met the man of her life.

Once they reached their flat, Freddie and Mary helped (y/n) get settled into her room and Freddie promised her that over the weekend the two of them would go out shopping to help make the room more hers than just a guest room. Freddie introduced her to all his cats who all wanted attention from the new girl that had entered the house.

The three of them got together for dinner and they all continued to just talk with each other and get to know one another better. Little by little, (y/n) found herself speaking out more than she ever did at her previous foster homes. Maybe it was Freddie's energy or Mary's warmness, she didn't know but she felt like she could really trust these two and hopefully one day call them mum and dad.

By nightfall, both Mary and Freddie were helping (y/n) get comfortable for the night. As Mary tucked her in she asked,

"How's that? You comfortable enough?"

"Yeah, thanks Mary."

"Now if you need anything, don't hesitate to wake either of us okay dear?" Freddie said.

"Okay Freddie." Soon already feeling the motherly instinct taking over and hoping she wasn't crossing any boundaries already, Mary leaned down and kissed the top of (y/n)'s head. (Y/n) soon felt a sudden warmth come over her as for the first time she had been given a motherly kiss. The two of them walked towards the room and (y/n) spoke up. "Goodnight Freddie, night Mary."

"Good night darling." Freddie said lovingly as both he and Mary stood by the door and looked at their newest addition to the Mercury-Austin household.

"Goodnight love," Mary said with a soft smile. She then reached over and turned off the lights and soon everyone had turned in for the night.

The next morning, (y/n) woke up to find an orange tabby cat sleeping on her stomach purring like a motorboat. Along with that she heard voices just outside, and it sounded more than just Freddie and Mary's voices. Soon lightly knocking at her door, Mary peeked in and she said.

"Oh good you're awake. How did you sleep (y/n)?"

"Good." She answered. It was then she asked shyly, "Is....is someone else here?"

"Oh I'm sorry dear, I tried to get Freddie to call them off telling them it was too soon but, he insisted on introducing you to the rest of the band today. Now there's no pressure in forcing you to do this, I'll just tell Freddie and the boys that you're still trying to adjust and that a visit isn't the best time, but if you do then I'll help introduce you to the boys."

"I—I wouldn't mind meeting the guys. I mean, they've came all this way just to see me. But....."

"What is it (y/n)?"

"But.....what if they don't like me? It's happened before and then I'm sent back there again." She spoke not another word and Mary didn't force her to explain, already coming up in her head with what she meant by that. So for some of the foster families she's been in, just because either guests or extended family didn't like her, they just brought her back to the foster home.

"That will never happen here. I promise, you will never get sent back to the foster home again. Do you understand love?" She looked at Mary and saw nothing but strong eyes staring back at her assuring her that that would never happen to her again, and for the first time she believed it.  "Now, do you wish to meet the rest of the lads? Or should I tell them now's not a good time?"

"I—I want to meet them." Mary softly smiled and held out her hand and she guided her out of the room and into the living room.

As they turned the corner, (y/n) was star-struck to see the rest of Queen now sitting in her new foster home. Never would she ever imagine that she would ever see Queen in a concert, let alone actually get to see them in person, hell having Freddie Mercury come into her life and choose to foster her. She kept close to Mary's side clinging onto her shirt as Mary got closer to the boys.

"Ahh there she is. My darlings, Mary and I would like to introduce the newest member of our family, this is (y/n). Our little princess. (Y/n) this is Brian, Roger and Deacy." Freddie introduced the guys to (y/n).

There was silence throughout the room until finally John took the first dive and came up to (y/n) and extended out his hand.

"It's great to finally meet you (y/n)." A soft smile soon appeared on her lips as she took John's hand and they both softly shook hands and she said shyly.

"It's an honor to meet you guys."

"Come my darling sit with me." Freddie said as he guided his new foster daughter to the couch and they both sat close to each other while Mary took the opposite side of (y/n).

"So (y/n), Fred here tells us that you're a fan of ours." Brian said. Embarrassed by that fact, (y/n) shyly hide herself in Mary's shoulder while Freddie only cooed and brought her out and held her close to him and said as he stroked down her arm soothingly.

"There's no need to be ashamed love. Like I said, it just means you have good taste in music, and that you recognize talent when you see it, for one your age."

"So (y/n), do you have a favorite song of ours?" asked Roger. That was a hard one. To (y/n), all the Queen songs were her favorite. There just wasn't one that could be on top of the other. But she knew she had to answer otherwise she feared they'd get mad at her for taking too long to answer. She only just hoped she would say the right one without offending anyone.

"I'm in love with my car." At that the boys groaned all except for Roger who was stunned.

"Guess I was mistaken." Teased Freddie. (Y/n) turned towards Mary and she asked her quietly.

"Did I say something wrong?"

"No, they're only joking love, they just don't like being reminded of the drama Roger gave them to get the song recorded in the first place." She whispered down to her.

"Tell me (y/n), what do you like about the song?" asked Roger dying to know why his future niece loved that song in particular.

"It.....it's the song where the drums truly shine for a song. I've always found the drums to be my favorite instrument."

"You know if you ever come by the studio, I'll be willing to give you a drum lesson. Free of charge for my favorite niece." Roger winked at her as he playfully ruffled the top of her head which made her softly laugh.

As the day went on, Brian, Roger and John soon came to see (y/n) as their niece and seeing Freddie already step into the role of fatherhood, made them realize that maybe he could be a good father to (y/n). And together with Mary by their side, it was like they were looking at the picture perfect family.

*August 1979. My POV*

For the rest of the year, living with Freddie Mercury and Mary Austin was like a dream come true. The two of them have given me all the love in the world that I was denied by my own parents. I was so afraid that I was never going to get adopted, because I only had two more years before I became a teenager, and no one wants to adopt a teenager.

But when they found me and chose to foster me, I thought that my life was going to change forever. And not only did I gain a mother and father figures, I also got three uncles who also treated me like a member of their family.

Uncle Brian, Uncle Roger and Uncle Deacy each warmed up to me and like when my dad taught me how to play the piano, they each taught me how to play the instruments that they specialized in. They taught me the best tricks of the trade when it came to playing either the guitar, the bass and even the drums.

Some days when dad would allow me, once school was over mum would drop me off at the studio and I got to actually sit in the recording studio to see just how the magic of making an album. Sometimes I was even allowed play the tambourine if the song required it so if you hear a song that has a tambourine in it that was recorded in 1979, there's a good chance that that's me playing it.

Currently it was around 9pm, dad had been back from his world tour and we were about to watch the concert that they did in Rio de Janerio, Brazil. I had gotten my homework done just in time but before the concert could begin, my mom just had to say.

"It's time for you to go to bed (y/n) darling."

"Aww Mary, can't I stay up and watch the concert with you guys?"

"Sorry love but you've got that math exam tomorrow. And you need plenty of rest for it." She stated. I quickly turned to dad hoping he'd let me stay up since it was his concert.

"Freddie can't I?" I gave him my best puppy dog eyes. He smiled and cupped my face in his hands and said.

"Better do as your mother says my darling." I pouted at him and he kissed my forehead and said, "Don't worry, there's always next time. You're on winter holiday after your exams, the next concert that comes on I promise you can stay up."

"Okay." I whined out.

"That's my girl." He kissed my forehead. I stood up from the floor and bid them both a goodnight and they did the same thing.

I got changed into my pajamas and Jerry was curled up at the foot of my bed. Ever since my first night when I came to live with Freddie and Mary, one of the cats the orange tabby had actually came into my room and curled up right on my stomach and purred happily. I had been told the name the next morning from Freddie and for the past six months, Jerry was always ready to come with me to bed whenever it was my bedtime.

It was then my brain hatched an idea. Who says I couldn't watch the concert, if they can't see me? I stroked Jerry and heard him purr and then I quietly tiptoed around the corner of the hallways that would soon lead into the living room of the flat. I angled myself far enough to where I could see the TV but not so far that mum and dad had to see me.

But as I rounded the corner I heard my mum say.

"I've known there's something up Freddie. Just tell me what is it?" her voice sounded fearful almost as if she was scared to know the truth. There was silence in the room until dad finally spoke.

"I think I'm bisexual." My eyes widened. Now I'm not daft nor stupid to know the different kinds of sexuality. Back at the foster home, there were a couple of boys who got picked on because they had posters hanging in their room of actors instead of actresses, and due to that the other foster kids bullied them.

Calling them fags or freaks and of course none of the assistant caretakers really did much about it. In fact some of them didn't even talk to those kids anymore and would point out to some of the potential parents that those boys weren't 'right in the head' because of their sexual preference.

"Freddie, you gay." my mother asked. He remained silent.

I saw my mum walk towards the window seeming to be upset while my dad stayed on the couch.

"I've known for a while now I just never wanted to admit it. It's funny really this is what I always settled for. I love you but. I love you Mary but I need space. I love you Mary but I've met someone else.....And now I love you but I'm.....and this is the hardest because it's not even your fault." She turned towards my dad before turning away from him. It was then I saw her reach out and touch her wedding finger to take off the ring.

"No. No you promised me you wouldn't take it off!" I heard my dad's voice quiver with pure sorrow as he stood before mum.

"What do you want from me Freddie?" she asked. My dad just kept his eyes on my mum before he finally choked out.

"Almost everything." My mum cupped his cheek and I heard her whisper.

"Your life is going to be very difficult." And with that she walked out of the flat without another word. He stood there in utter despair and he looked so broken. I slowly stood up and as I rounded the corner, the floor squeaked under my foot. Freddie turned to see me standing there with the same sad eyes as he had.

As he now stared at me, I knew we didn't have to speak to each other to ask how much I had heard, because I heard enough. He slowly walked towards me with tears ready to spill out of his eyes and I walked up to him before he sunk to his knees and I wrapped my arms around him while he did the same.

And for the first time ever, I had seen the great Freddie Mercury be brought to the ultimate low point.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry my darling....I'm sorry you heard that....please forgive me." He sobbed out praying that I would forgive him. I just held onto him tighter burying my fingers in his hair as for the first time I had called him.

"Daddy, are you okay?" He sniffled and sobbed out.

"Yeah. I'm okay. I'm okay darling we're gonna be okay. We're okay." I kissed his head and held onto him for the remainder of the night.

*1981*

It was now the summer of 1981 and things were certainly changing. Ever since they split up, dad had taken full custody over me but he still wanted Mary to be a part of my life and allow visitation rights, so that way I would still have a mother figure in my life.

With the help of Uncle Roger, dad has us move out of the flat and into a bigger house that felt more like a mansion than anything else. My new room was like fitting three master bedrooms in one. Even the cats had their own rooms in the new house. With the changes of the new house there was also changes in lifestyle too.

My dad's physical appearance changed as he now sported a tache and his hair was more sleeked back and shorter than usual. There was also some signs of him and Paul getting closer together. Hell they were practically starting to look like each other, wherever my dad was, you can bet all the money in the world that Paul was right there hanging over my dad like a shadow. And I feared for the worse, because anytime I would try to even talk to my dad, Paul would always take him away from me.

Like one time when I needed help with an astronomy project for science class, I needed dad to help me with the hot glue gun but the second I approached him, Paul came right up and had said and I quote.

"Freddie, the caterers need to go over again on what to serve for the party next week. There's also the matters of the performers coming and we need to check the guest list again." With that dad had said that he would get back with me shortly and help me out.

But shortly went on for almost half the day. In the end I called up the one person who I knew would be interested and be willing to help out with a project like this. And within ten minutes, Uncle Brian arrived at the house and he helped me build my astronomy project of Sally's comet. All the while telling me all that he knew of the cosmos since he was studying astrophysics.

Once the project was done and dad still didn't come back home with Paul, uncle Brian worried for my safety being left home alone so he told me to get my overnight bag and that I would be staying the night over with him. He phoned Mary to tell her where I would be in case dad ever did decide to come back, lord knows when though, and tell him that I was being kept safe.

The sad thing is, I always had my overnight bag packed and stored away ready to go. Because ever since Paul came into the picture and taking my dad god knows where, and with all the parties they would host, I'd always stay over at either Uncle Brian's, Uncle Roger's or Uncle Deacy's place, depending on who was available.

I'd always feel guilty going over because I feel like I was a burden to not only them, but their family as well. Of course each of my uncles would tell me that it was no trouble and that their house was my house, that I was welcome anytime day or night.

Now back to the present; the current big costume party was tomorrow and I was currently getting the mail. Of course most of it contained confirmation of the invitations sent out, some bills, letters from Miami but then a manila envelope caught my attention. I turned it over and it read out.

LEAGAL ADOPTION PAPERS FROM CENTRAL LONDON'S FOSTER HOME.

For weeks now whenever Paul wasn't in the picture, I had asked dad when the official agreement to adopt me would happen. Because legally I'm still a foster child being fostered by Freddie Mercury. He had told and reassured me that it would happen soon, it's just with work and all he's been busy.

But I guess finally he managed to squeeze some time and ask for the official documents for him to sign.

"(Y/n) darling come up here won't you?" I could hear his voice echo from upstairs.

"Coming dad!" I said as I quickly set the mail aside and raced up the slight-spiral stairway and met my dad in his personal dressing room where he kept all his concert and party clothes. All the extravagant and over-the-top stuff like his kingly robe and crown, his military uniform, things like that.

"Ahh there's my girl. Come in, come in it just finally arrived today and I want to see you in it." He said as he handed me a neatly tied box. I took it from him and untied the pink lace knot and opened it up and pushed away the packing paper inside to reveal the top bust portion of a dress.

"Dad I—I don't know about this. You know how I feel about parties." I tried to tell him but he told me.

"Oh come off it darling, you will have fun tomorrow night I just know it. Now please I had this dress specifically made for you, please at least just try it on for me." He gave me his best puppy dog face and I agreed to at least try it on. "That's my best girl." He said as he pecked my cheek and gestured for me to go behind the Japanese screen doors.

Once I was behind the changing screen, I fully took the dress out of the box. It was a beautiful light blue ballgown with a sweetheart outline and exposed from the back, a darker shade of light blue sash was tied around the hips of the dress. Inside the box there was also very long light blue gloves that looked like they would go up to my mid-bicep.

I placed the gloves aside and started to get out of my daily clothes and put on the dress. Once I had it on, I took the gloves and put them on trying my best to have it rolled up past my elbows till they went to the halfway point of my bicep just like I thought they would.

When I was finally dressed and had adjusted the dress, I slowly came out from behind the screen doors and the second my dad saw me in the dress, I could see tears in his eyes.

"Oh.....my darling. Look at you, you're as pretty as a magnolia in May. But something's still missing...wait I know." He soon took something out from his back pocket, a small jewelry box and opened it up to reveal a beautiful silver necklace with a diamond shaped, blue gem at the center. He came up to me and placed it around my neck and said as we now stood before his full length mirror. "There, now you look complete. For behind every good king, is an even greater Princess at his side, and my little darling is going to be the fairest of them all." He said as he now placed on top of my head a silver princess tiara.

"Freddie! Freddie mail's come in and....." Paul soon stood before us and the minute he saw me, his body tensed up and he said. "(Y/n)."

"Paul dear doesn't my little darling look absolutely beautiful?" Freddie proclaimed as he wrapped his arms around me, for that move I smirked at Paul telepathically telling him that my dad was praising me for once and not him.

"Indeed she does." I could tell he was pissed as he strained out to even agree with my dad. He then straightened himself out and handed my dad the mail but I noticed that the folder that held the adoption papers wasn't among the pile.

"Excuse me Paul, where is the manila envelope?" I asked.

"Whatever do you mean?" he asked as he glared down at me but making sure not to let my dad see the annoyance clearly written on his face.

"There was a manila folder in the mail today. I would know because I got the mail just a moment ago before dad called me up here. So where is it you prick!?!"

"(Y/n)! There's no need to be crude to Paul. It probably slipped out of his hand or is still lying on the counter where you left them. Now I want you to apologize to Paul right now."

"But—"

"Now!" my dad ordered me. I turned to Paul who wore a smug grin on his face. I turned to dad and he only just looked at me, ordering for me to apologize.

"I'm sorry Paul, you're not a prick". Says sarcastically.

"There, now that that's done. Paul and I need to go over some last minute plans for the party. And I expect to see you in that dress tomorrow my darling." And with that dad guided Paul down the hallways leaving me in my dad's dressing room alone.

From that afternoon into the next day I looked high and low for those papers but it was like they had disappeared out of thin air. Finally it was an hour till party time. I was now all dressed up and my dad was doing my hair and makeup. As we sat down before my white vanity makeup set, I had barely recognized myself all dolled up like this. Dad continued to give my hair some waves with the curling iron, and then once he was satisfied he said.

"Oh my beautiful darling, while I've always said no one could be more beautiful than I, you truly outshine me right now. Everyone is going to love you." I didn't respond verbally back but only gave him a soft smile and a slight nod. "Well we best get going darling, the guests are waiting for us." My dad soon left my room leaving me alone once again.

"I look like a frilled up American Barbie doll, why did I agree to this?" I took a deep breath in before exhaling out. There was no turning back now, and I'd hate to be pestered by my dad about ditching the party tomorrow morning, or have Paul come in and putting words into my dad's head like he's always done and make me look like the bad guy.

I left my room and slowly walked towards the staircase. Already the party had been in full swing for about an hour and a half. Lord knows how many people were here already, not to mention my anxiety was through the roof. I took a few more deep breaths and tried to calm myself down.

Slowly step by step as I gripped onto the railing with my gloved hand, I walked down the steps to hear 'Crazy little thing called love' was now blasting through the speakers. Already hundreds of people were lining up along the halls in either party suits or costumes of various things or types of people.

I tried to weave my way through the crowd but I kept getting shoved or pushed around. I would hop up and down hoping to spot my dad or at least someone that I knew so that way I wouldn't feel alone in my own house. Suddenly fire shot out in front of me and I jumped back fearfully as people applauded for the fire eaters that just performed.

"Dad? Excuse...excuse me dad? Dad where are you?" I called out but due to my anxiety, it only came out as faint which was easily drowned out by the music. Soon the music suddenly changed and the people around me cheered loudly as they began to frantically dance and jump around.

Due to the dancing now, it made going through the house even more difficult. Suddenly I felt someone slam into me and I was knocked into the snack table which sent some of the food and drinks spilling out everywhere. Champagne now stained my dress and around my face and hair was hummus and god knows what other dips there were.

"Ahh my new spring dress! Why don't you watch where you're going you little brat!" a strange woman yelled at me as I saw that some of the marinara sauce for the shrimp on her dress. She glared down at me with hateful eyes before walking away hearing her calling me names, just like the names some of my other foster parents in the past used to call me.

Tears filled my eyes and I could barely pull myself up from the ground as I felt like huddling up and cry my eyes out. Where was dad at? Why didn't he wait for me at the foot of the steps? Why.....

"(Y/n)?" my head shot up and I must have a Guardian angel watching over me or something for coming up to me were my uncles.

"What happened? Are you okay?" asked Uncle Roger. Since Uncle Deacy was the closest to me, I spoke not a word but just embraced him as tight as I could as I wept hysterically. I cried and cried and cried until I felt like my heart was going to sink and my voice would crack. I felt him wrap his arms around me and he tried to comfort me as best he could by rubbing my back, stroking my wet hair, and whispering in my ear.

"Shhh, shh. It's alright love, it's alright. I'm here. I'm right here." I felt him place a kiss at the top of my head as well as my temple but soon everything just tuned out, all I wanted was to just disappear inside my Uncle's embrace.

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

S.T REWRITE - S1:E6; Chapter Six, The Monster - [Pt. 3 - FINAL PART]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

With Eleven gone, Y/n struggles to keep the party together. Elsewhere, Hopper and Joyce uncover the truth about the lab’s many experiments.

Managed to pause it at the right time 

||3rd Person POV|| "She was part of some study in college." Becky, who had now properly introduced herself to the duo, was sitting at the kitchen table with Joyce and Hopper with her sister Terry still in the adjoining room. "MK Ultra?" Hopper had remembered the name popping up several times on the many newspaper clippings and articles they had at their disposal. "Yeah, that's the one." Becky said bleakly, taking a puff of her cigarette and then quickly exhaled. "Was, uh, started in the '50s. By the time Terry got involved, it was supposed to be ramping down, but the drugs just got crazier. Messed her up good." Hopper remained leaning back in his chair, a concentrated frown stuck in his features. "This was the CIA that ran this?" Becky smiled and softly chucked, motion to the man slightly. "You and Terry would've gotten along. 'The Man,' with a big capital 'M'. They'd pay... you know, a couple hundred bucks to people like my sister, give 'em drugs, psychedelics. LSD, mostly." As Becky spoke, Hopper and Joyce shared an equally concerned look. "And then they'd strip her naked and put her in these isolation tanks." Joyce frowned. "Isolation tanks?" "Yeah. These big bathtubs, basically, filled with salt water, so you can float around in there." She made subtle swaying motions with her hand as she spoke. "You lose any sense of, uh... sense and feel nothing, see nothing. They wanted to expand the boundaries of the mind. Real hippie crap." Joyce was still hanging onto every word with a genuine look of concern. "I... I mean, it's not like they were forcing her to do any of this stuff. The thing is, though, is that she didn't know she was pregnant at the time." "Jane." Joyce said in immediate understanding. Becky nodded and took another puff of her cigarette. Joyce sighed in amazement, before asking. "Do you have any pictures of her?" Becky gave the two an odd look. "I don't think you guys understand. Terry miscarried in the third trimester." +++ "She keeps all of this up. Been doing it for 12 years." Becky had just led the two into the untouched baby room at the end of the hallway. She took a seat on the arm of the chair in the corner of the room as Joyce and Hopper came in and examined the room in curiosity. "Terry, uh, pretends like Jane is real," Hopper approaches the hanging mobile and gives it a light touch sending it spinning slowly and triggering the mechanics so now it plays a haunting lullaby. "like she's gonna come home someday." The mobile continues playing the lullaby as Becky speaks, giving the atmosphere a chilling tone. "Says she special. Born with 'abilities'" 《•••》 Eleven stood to her feet and before they could close the steel door, she threw the door open along with one of the men straight into the tile wall. He fell to the floor, leaving a large hole in the tile 《•••》 "Abilities?" Joyce contorted her face in confusion and surprise. Becky looked to Joyce as she exhaled the smoke that previously resided in her lungs. 《•••》 The second man spared a second to look before turning to her to try and restrain her. Before he could even step foot in the room, he was dead on floor, his neck snapped. All with the flick of her head. 《•••》 "You read any Stephen King?" Becky quipped. 《•••》 The cat began snarling, and it quickly turned to whimpers of pain. Eleven was freely crying now as she looked between the frightened cat and Papa. She gave one final look at the cat before yanking the wires off her head in defeat. 《•••》 Hopper shifted uncomfortably and looked to Joyce who looked equally unsettled. Becky chuckles. "You guys look scared, actually." She laughed once more before shaking her head slightly. "I mean, it's all make-believe" Joyce clears her throat uncomfortably, trying to regain her composure. "What... what kind of abilities?" Becky stares off into space as she recalls the claims made by her sister and begins listing them off casually. "Telepathy, telekinesis..." 《•••》 A shrill shriek erupts from Eleven's throat and Lucas Sinclair is thrown back several feet in the air. His body slides a few feet on the ground until it crashes into a nearby piece scrap metal knocking him unconscious. 《•••》 "You know, shit you can do with your mind. That's why the big, bad Man stole Jane away." 《•••》 "Papa!" She screamed her throat raw as the men dragged her away, yet as always Papa did nothing. 《•••》 "Her baby's a weapon, off fighting the commies. You know, the doctor's all day it's a coping mechanism. You know, to deal with the guilt. Hell, she even believes that she still could have done something. Shortly before she got, you know pretty bad, she started muttering about, uh, something about how there was more she could have done." Becky frowned as she recalled the memory and seeing her sister so frantic. Hopper frowned at this, silently encouraging her to continue. Becky shrugged. "According to Terry, there was another woman like her. You know, who was pregnant during all the experiments. I don't know what happened, or if it was even true, but she seemed pretty convinced. Said this woman had her baby and even got her out somehow." Hopper perked up at this, recalling the many mentions of the "missing experiment" and wondered if there was any connection. "Are you saying there was another kid?" "According to Terry. You couldn't convince her otherwise if you had tried." A sympathetic smile crossed Becky's face as she recalled the memory. "She would go on about all the whispers she'd claimed to have heard. Apparently, the woman had her baby but got away before they could take 'em, and only the child supposedly survived. This baby by the way, who was supposed to have some sorta" Becky's face scrunched up in distaste as she told the made up stories of her sister, clearly uncomfortable with the idea and she made big gestures with her hands. "'untapped potential for the greater good'. Some real messed up pseudoscience shit and when she supposedly 'got away' the big, bad Man did not like it and killed the woman and they were comin' for Jane next. And the rest, well" she shrugged her shoulders. "Well, do you think there is any chance she could have been telling the truth?" Becky only gave her a look. "About having had Jane, at least. Or even the other woman?" Joyce stammered. "Well, as for the possibility of another woman being pregnant during all that isn't exactly impossible given it happened to Terry so I never really ruled that possibility out I guess, but as far as Jane? There is no birth certificate, nothing from the hospital. Doctors and nurses all confirm that she miscarried." Hopper who had very seriously been contemplating all this finely spoke up. "Yeah, but that could've been covered up. Right?" Becky smiled and shook her head. "Like I said, you and Terry would've gotten along." ||Reader's POV|| "El!" "Eleven!" "Eleven!" "El!" "El!" The boys and I had been wandering around the woods by Mirkwood for almost a half an hour now. My fingers were beginning to hurt from the brisk icy air. I was clutching the handles of my bike as I walked it through the woods. "El?" I called desperately. No answer, of course. I stiffen when I hear a twig snap in the distance. Thankfully, I wasn't the only one who heard it. "Hey, stop. Do you hear that?" Mike said lowering his voice. "What?" Dustin asked quietly. We were all standing still until Mike began turning around, attempting to protect his voice as far as he could. "El!" Nothing. "El?" "Shit." I began backing away on instinct when I see the all too familiar pair of bullies quickly approaching us. They looked mad. Troy, specifically. He had his hood over his head as he charged up the small hill into view. "Hey, there, Frogface. Toothless. And who could forget little miss bitch." Troy hissed, whipping out his pocket knife. "Shit! Run, guys, run!" Dustin shouted, throwing his bike to the ground. "Run! Come on!" I quickly followed suit and the three of us dashed off into the woods. I was going as fast as my legs could possibly carry me. Never stopping, I spared a glance behind me only to lock eyes with Troy. The look in his eyes terrified me. "You're dead Henderson!" I whipped my head forward and I put everything I had into going faster. "Run, [Y/N], come on!" Dustin yelled. Soon enough, I felt my legs turn to led and my lungs were bone dry. Mike was now in lead. We made it to the quarry when Dustin began slowing down and let out a gasp of pain. "Cramp!" He exclaimed, clutching his side. "Just keep going!" Mike called over his shoulder. He continued running but he let out a groan. "Keep going!" Troy was right on our heels, just when we thought we might lose him we saw his goon around the corner in front us. This is it. We're trapped. We all shared the same thought and picked up the closest thing to ourselves and held them up as weapons. Dustin grabbed a rather sharp stick and Mike grabbed a large stone. With little to no options left I decided to take a page out of Dustin's book. Only there were no more sticks so I grabbed a nearby tree branch. It was thin and relatively small for a tree branch but it would have to work none the less. Instinctively, I grab it by both hands and snap it half using my leg. Casting aside the weaker piece, left me with a now very sharp make shift spear. I grasped the "spear" with both hands and held it out in front of myself protectively, blowing a few strands of loose hair from my face. "Stay back." Troy didn't listen and stepped closer. "I SAID STAY BACK!" I roar. I saw him flinch. I smiled very slightly to myself, proud that I had intimated him for once. They began circling us like vultures. "Don't come any closer!" Mike yelled. I had an eye on Troy who was just as focused on me. I didn't trust him enough to look away. Yet, upon hearing a grunt and the clatter of the stone, I was worried Mike or Dustin got hurt and out of instinct I looked. "Nice throw, numbnuts." Mike had thrown the stone but mis- I felt a sharp pain in the back of my head and I collapsed to the ground. "[Y/N]!?" I groaned and I tried sitting up but my vision was blurry and moving seemed like an impossible feat. I groan in pained and I seemed to drift in and out of consciousness, unable to do anything. I thought I heard my name called a few times and I could have sworn that I felt a pair of hands trying to shake me awake. I only groaned and put all my energy into opening my eyes but then I saw it. The rock that hit me. It was slightly larger than my fist and it was it had a few splatters of blood. The sight weakened me and I groaned and rolled over on my side. My left arm became a pillow for my bleeding head. The next thing I heard was yelling. I could tell it was from Dustin. "YOU SON OF BITCH!" He then let out and a fierce scream and then I heard the sound of scuffling. I wanted to do something, but I was still too dizzy. "Get off! Get off me! Don't hurt her!" I gathered all the strength I could muster and look up to my brother. That bastard. He had my brother. He was holding my brother hostage with his knife to my brother. "G-Get away from-!" I began to stand up only for my knees to buckle and I tripped over my own two feet and stumbled to the ground once more. This time I could feel the sting of the gravel digging into my palms and all the blood rush to my head. It was too much for me and I couldn't stop myself from slipping into unconsciousness. +++ "Dentist's office opens in five!" 'What?' My limbs felt like they were made of less once more, even my eyelids were heavy, they felt impossible to open. I made out distorted shouts. "Four!" 'Whatever is happening I know it's bad.' "Three!" 'Come on, wake up!' "Two!" My eyes began to go flutter open. "Mike!" I made out Mike's figuring standing on a ledge. Why was he looking like he was gonna- Shit. 'What the hell? No! No, you idiot, no!' Putting everything I had I sat up, my vision slowly but surely returning as well as my strength. "Mike-" I said weakly. "One!" But it was too late. In one swift motion he stepped off the ledge and disappeared. "Mike!" I cried out. Three boys looked shocked and ran to the ledge. 'No. No! No, he- No! What the hell happened?! How did everything go so wrong so quickly?' I choked on a sob, which made my head throb. But I didn't care. Now I really felt nauseous. I placed both my hands over my mouth and silent tears fell down my cheeks. "Holy shit." Dustin said. I sniffled and looked to the boys. Why weren't they freaking out more? That's when I heard it. It was Mike. It was distant, but it was Mike. I wanted to say something but I was still in shock. I didn't know where to begin. 'Is it Mike? Is he okay? Why did he jump? Why aren't you guys freaking out?' I wanted to say all those things but nothing came out. My heart leaped when I heard him shriek and for a second I thought he might be falling again but then... "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!" I couldn't believe what happened next. But sure enough there he was. Floating upside down, up over the cliff and landed safely on the ground behind me. I stared in shock. We all did. "Am I still unconscious?" Thought out loud. Naturally, Mike was just as confused as we were, he wore the same expression as I did when he made eye contact with me. But then all my questions were answered when Mike's gaze shifting behind me. There she was in all her glory. El. She had abandoned the wig but remained in the same old dress and jacket Mike had given her. Only now they were covered in dirt, as was her face. Her head was tilted down and she stormed up the group. A huge grin found it's a way onto my face and an excited and relieved laugh left my mouth as she approached us. James and Troy began stomping towards her when suddenly, without warning James was knocked back with incredible force. I looked to El knowing it was her doing, then suddenly she flicked her head to the side and I heard a rather disgusting snap followed by Troy crying out in pain. He clutched his right arm and dropped his knife in the process. I felt an arm extend itself to me, it was Dustin, who was helping me stand up. I gladly took his arm and wobbled to my feet. "She broke my arm! My arm!" "Serves you right asshole." I spit. Quite literally in fact. I spit in his direction making sure he caught the gesture. He was too busy being afraid to retaliate and he looked to El, cowering. "Go." She stated threateningly. "Let's get out of here! Let's go!" Troy screamed. James was quick to follow. "Go!" Dustin left my side and chased after them, taking the opportunity to taunt them which I rather enjoyed seeing. "Yeah, that's right! You better run!" Me and Mike look gleefully at one another. "She's our friend and she's crazy! You come back here and she'll kill you! You hear me? She'll kill you, you sons of bitches! She'll kill you, you hear me?" I looked to El happily when I noticed she looked rather pale. Suddenly she collapsed. We all surrounded her, worriedly. "El, you alright?" I asked. "El?" She made eye contact with Mike and began sobbing. "Mike... I'm sorry." "Sorry? What are you sorry for?" She choked back another sob. I frowned and hissed in pain slightly. My hand went to the back of my head, silently inspecting the wound as I listening to El. "The gate... I opened it. I'm the monster." My hand left my wound, and I felt another wave of dizziness wash over me and I knelt down on the ground. Not wanting to interrupt her but also avoiding the possibility of falling over. "No. No, El, you're not the monster. You saved me. Do you understand? You saved me." Mike pulled her up and into a hug. I smiled at the sight and leaned in joining hug. Normally I would let them have their moment but given that Mike was almost just killed and things could have been a lot worse, I didn't care and went in for it. Dustin apparently had the same idea and I felt his arms wrap around me and Mike and El. And we stayed like that for as long as we could. At that moment we were just four friends who were lucky enough to have found each other. And thank God we did. +++ Eventually, of course, we got up and decided to grab our bikes and to the gate. Hopefully, find Lucas and convince him to help. I feel awful for letting him go alone. Once again, Dustin helped me to my feet to which I thanked him for. I gave a reassuring smile to my brother. But his face contorted in shock and worry as he looked at me. "What?" "[Y/N], your face. You've got... you're- Dude your face is covered in- veins? What the hell? [Y/N], are you sure you're okay? You got hit pretty hard and you were pretty out of it." I frowned, tracing my fingers around my cheeks in confusion. "I'll be fine. I'll have to be, finding Will and getting Lucas back is more important. Which is why we need to get moving. Come on, we better hurry if we want to get s head start. We still have to get our bikes back." I said, leading the way back from where we were chased. I didn't want to show them how uncomfortable I was. I didn't want to show weakness so I trek on. Despite the tingling sensation I felt throughout my entire body and the sense of dizziness that had made its return once more. 'I'm not and an idiot. I know that weird, unexplainable things have been happening to me but I honestly have no idea how to process all this so for now, all I can afford to worry about is Will.’ That's all that matters now. +++ We eventually found out bikes and were currently returning from the woods through one of the park fences. We were all walking our bikes across the patch of grass, save for El of course, when I the familiar sense of being watched returned for the second time today. Only this time, it put me on edge and left me paranoid. At the risk of worrying the group, I kept this to myself. Oh, what a mistake that was.

+++

Tag List: @fuckwaad @aimee-lucass

DM me if you want to be added!

[tsgaspencolorado]

Scouted December Events // Aspen and the Roaring Fork Valley

A busy month calls for a full and festive calendar. Read on for a round-up of holiday happenings around town and in the valley.

Friday, December 13 // Aspen History Fireside Chat at The Little Nell Join AHS at The Little Nell for stories from Aspen’s past! Cozy up by the fireplace to hear about the neighborhood’s mining and skiing history, the hotel’s origins and legendary moments, and more. As part of The Little Nell’s 30th-anniversary celebration, this special program is presented for this ski season only. $15 adult / $12 senior / children 18 and under free / free for hotel guests

Friday, December 13 // History Ski Tour on Aspen Mountain On select Fridays at 11 AM and 1 PM you can learn about the amazing mining and ski history lying literally beneath your feet as you tour Aspen Mountain with a long-time local historian

Friday, December 13 // 4 - 6 PM // Holiday Tree Lighting in Downtown Basalt Merry on Midland takes place from 4 to 6 PM with the tree lighting and holiday festivities for the whole family.

Friday, December 13 // 5 - 9 PM // Kelly Peters Art Studio Opening TSG Aspen artist Kelly Peters opens Straight Line Studio with fellow artist Teal Wilson. Join them in Snowmass Base Village for art and a bit of bubbly to celebrate.

Friday, December 13 - Sunday, December 15 // Passapalooza Passapalooza grants access to all four Aspen Snowmass mountains for only $59 per day for skiers and riders who have a valid 2019-2020 pass from any ski resort in the world. Enjoy food and drink specials as well as interactive art and light installations in Snowmass Base Village and the Snowmass Mall. Head over to Aspen on December 14th for The Little Nell’s “Party Like It’s 1989” 30th Anniversary extravaganza including live music, ski films and more great deals on food and drinks.

Saturday, December 14 // Party Like It’s 1989 Party (like the year The Little Nell opened) from 3 – 9 pm for an après ski extravaganza. The party kicks off at Chair 9 with a DJ spinning from 3:30 – 7:30 pm. Starting at 6 pm, head Downstairs at The Nell where an ‘80s cover band will play hits from The Nell’s early years and the costume contest takes place with a chance to win a deluxe winter stay at the hotel. Enjoy complimentary appetizers and a cash bar serving drinks including '80s themed cocktails. Suggested attire: vintage ski apparel.

Monday, December 16 // History Ski Tour at Aspen Highlands On select Mondays at 11 AM and 1 PM, ski with a volunteer historian to learn about Aspen Highlands' "maverick," innovative, and unique past. 

Tuesday, December 17 // The Scout Guide Aspen Volume 7 Launches Keep an eye on your inbox! We sent out details on our pop-up party happening from 4 - 6 PM on the 17th in Aspen!

Wednesday, December 18 // World Snow Polo Championship Starts The glitz, glamour, and excitement take center stage at one of the world's top snow polo tournaments and only snow polo event in North America. In front of an expected sellout crowd and worldwide ChukkerTV audience, five days of events will be held during the final stop on the World Polo Tour. 

Wednesday, December 18 // 5 - 7 PM // Ice Bumper Cars at The Collective 16 ice bumper cars arrive in Snowmass Village and will be available on a first-come, first-served basis from 5 to 7 PM daily until January 2. $20 for 10 minutes per rider.

Friday, December 20 // 5 - 8 PM // Action in Africa 5th Annual Fundraiser Join Action In Africa for an inspirational evening at their 5th Annual Winter Fundraiser! This organization started at Aspen High School and has since grown into a national non-profit serving to educate and serve people in Uganda.

Friday, December 20 // 3 - 5 PM // Game of Stones at The Collective Curling comes to Snowmass with the Game of Stones curling series at The Rink in Snowmass Base Village! Teams of two will compete in a head-to-head elimination competition. The first team that reaches 10 points wins! Game of Stones will take place from 3 to 5 p.m., registration will occur at the ice skating rink prior to the event.

Friday, December 20 // Aspen History Fireside Chat at The Little Nell Join AHS at The Little Nell for stories from Aspen’s past! Cozy up by the fireplace to hear about the neighborhood’s mining and skiing history, the hotel’s origins and legendary moments, and more. As part of The Little Nell’s 30th-anniversary celebration, this special program is presented for this ski season only. $15 adult / $12 senior / children 18 and under free / free for hotel guests

Friday, December 20 // 12 Days of Aspen Begins The annual Aspen Chamber Resort Association event kicks off on Friday, December 20 with Santa and his reindeer on the mall from 2:30 - 5:30 PM and a free showing of The Polar Express at the Wheeler. With something for everyone leading up to New Year’s Eve (including fireworks!), this annual event is one not to miss. Get the complete calendar of events.

Saturday, December 21 - Tuesday, December 24 // All day // Holiday Market at Here House Stop by Here House, next to Local Coffee Aspen, and check out their holiday market featuring skincare, accessories, jewelry, photos, and home goods. There will be mulled wine and hot apple cider (plus, you can always grab a cup of coffee next door) and kids are welcome. Gift wrapping is available (score!), and members of Here House and guests of the St. Regis receive discounts.

Saturday, December 21 - Tuesday, December 24 // 2 - 4 PM // Santa’s Village at The Collective The North Pole comes to The Collective where Santa himself is available to hear the last-minute requests from girls and boys. Complimentary photos with Santa are offered daily regardless of which of his lists you may find yourself on.

Sunday, December 22 // 3 - 4 PM // Sake Tastings at Sake Try something new every week, presented by the in house expert at Sake.

Sunday, December 22 // 4:30 - 5 PM // Menorah Lighting at The Collective Celebrated the beginning of Hanukkah with a menorah-lighting ceremony and traditional prayer led by local, Alyssa Genshaft.  Stick around for some delicious food from mix6 while playing a few games of dreidel.

Tuesday, December 24 and Wednesday, December 25 // Christmas Eve and Christmas Day Dinners at The Little Nell Element 47 and Ajax Tavern are open with Christmas Eve and Christmas Day Dinners serving up holiday favorites. 

Thursday, December 26 // 3 - 4 PM // Wine Tasting at Slice Free wine tasting every Thursday through the ski season.

Friday, December 27 // 3 - 5 PM // Game of Stones at The Collective Curling comes to Snowmass with the Game of Stones curling series at The Rink in Snowmass Base Village! Teams of two will compete in a head-to-head elimination competition. The first team that reaches 10 points wins! Game of Stones will take place from 3 to 5 p.m., registration will occur at the ice skating rink prior to the event.

December 28 // 4 - 7 PM // Live Music with Chris Bank, Mark Johnson & Terry Bannon at The Collective The trio of Chris Bank (guitar/vocals) Mark Johnson (sax /percussion) and Terry Bannon (keyboards/vocals) have been performing together in the Aspen area for over 25 years dating back to the Little Nell, Syzygy, and more recently Casa Tua. They have also performed for many corporate events and weddings playing a variety of genres including rhythm & blues, jazz, funk, and pop. Whether you’re into sitting back and grooving or getting down on the dance floor this group is guaranteed to satisfy.

Monday, December 30 // Audi Ajax Cup Benefiting the Aspen Valley Ski and Snowboard Club’s 2,300-plus athletes, as well as its scholarships and programs, the Audi Ajax Cup features head-to-head slalom races on the storied run of Little Nell at Aspen Mountain. Cheer on the racers as they navigate the challenging course, and then stick around for an après ski party at the base of the mountain.

Tuesday, December 31 // 10 PM - 2 AM // The Dom Pérignon Party For their Pearl Anniversary celebration, the world’s your oyster at The Little Nell on New Year’s Eve with endless entertainment and bottomless Dom Pérignon. The all-inclusive ticket provides access to top-shelf liquor, sweet and savory bites, oysters on the half-shell, a gourmet cheese bar and more. The hotel’s transformation into a chic circus scene translates to entertainment flowing throughout the outlets with musical acts and acrobats. Count down to midnight as dancers light up the courtyard with a fire show leading up to the fireworks display over Aspen Mountain. Tickets are $650++ per person.

Tuesday, December 31 // 7 PM and 11 PM // Clicquot Cats The ultimate slopeside experience combines The Little Nell’s five-star service and Veuve Clicquot’s La Grande Dame champagne with coveted access to Aspen Mountain. Just three snowcats for up to 12 guests each are available for a choice of the 8 pm or midnight fireworks shows. First, arrive to a private Veuve Clicquot lounge in the Silver Queen Gondola Building replete with a DJ and drinks. Next, board your private snowcat to be driven to an exclusive seating area overlooking Aspen with chairs, plush blankets, and a glowing fire pit. Here, you’ll be greeted with front row seating to the fireworks show over Aspen Mountain, A dedicated server will be your host, serving champagne, caviar, blinis, and other savory delights. $12,000++ to reserve a snowcat, includes all 12 guest spots, plus food & beverage.

live. love. local.

[urfavblackbimbo]

Hey sistawives✨✨

So I saw this on insta today and let’s talk about this nigga here LAWDDD HELP ME JESUSSSSS I didn’t even realize that was him in the beginning but look at him being a MANNN A GOOD MAN SAVANNA, BITCHHHH he’s a protector AHHHHH he can fights niggas AHHHHHHHH I CANTTTTT he can put me in a armbar and put me in soo many submissions 🤤💦💦🤪 and now that I’m thinking about it MMA Trainer! Terry x Newbie! Reader and he trains her and ends up fucking her on the mat 👀👀 💢⭕️💢⭕️💢⭕️ sista’s I need to stop I can’t stop thinking about him I need help (not really)

[replicarters]

i was at northeast trek con this weekend, if you couldn’t deduce it from my posts that must have sounded like they were coming from some sort of hallucinatory trip. to say i had fun would be a wild understatement. if you slot this con on an alignment chart, it would be wall-to-wall chaotic good. the theme advertised was celebrating the 25th anniversary of ds9... and boy did we celebrate.

what follows is everything i feverishly tweeted about the wildest 72 hours of my life.

the only reason i went to this con at all was @thylekshran, who wanted to see one mr. jeffwey combs very badly. @jadziadax happened to say to me one night, “hey you should go to this con happening where you live to see nicole,” and i said, “wait a minute, isn’t this the con dylan wants to go to? what if i actually Did go to this?”

friday: i grabbed dylan, somehow, from the bus stop that i think didn’t quite exist on this plane. we get to the con and we walk into the exhibit hall. nicole is right by the door and i cannot look at her, so we beeline for vendor tables, and suddenly before me is an extremely familiar spread of colorful images. it takes me a minute to process it, and then i’m pointing to this table and rushing toward it going, “OH MY GOD. IT’S HER! FROM TUMBLR! OH MY GOD WHAT.” it was none other than @abravenoise selling prints!!!! i had no idea she would be there since i didn’t look at anything before i left the house. just fyi she is irl just about the nicest person i’ve ever met!!!!!! and i’m so glad we got to hang out as much as we did!

we spent the day mostly going to panels and being big baby chickens regarding jeff’s and nicole’s tables, respectively. we did end up at jg hertzler’s table A Lot, because dylan, like, is recognized?? by him and his wife??? idk dylan’s just out here charming the pants off everybody, so i was like, okay cool, this is the first thing that is Totally Fine, just chilling with martok. we also met two cool dudes through jg who really enjoyed hanging out with us, and that was great! making friends all over the place! not the first and not the last!

one thing dylan and i were bummed about was that the klingon meet & greet party that night (where jg and robert o’reilly would get in costume as martok and gowron and duel to the death) was sold out. we really really really wanted to go... so dylan just... straight up asks jg if he can get us in dhfklshdfd. and you know what? he fucking does. just... put our names right on that list! O K A Y!

the friday panels were a sign of what would be to come, every one we went to was crazy. this was my first real trek con, so of course i have never seen hertzler and o’reilly in a room together, but now i have and my third eye is open and all that. not to mention: learning that garrett wang plays pokemon go, nicole cracking up at poop jokes like i said, hertzler doodling a little shran with glasses on jeff’s sign, the con’s power point file just being named DRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR. everything that was happening was so good.

chase masterson had a panel about her pop culture hero coalition, and currently working for a non-profit myself, i was really curious about what kinds of programming they do, so i went to her table to talk to her about it. chase ended up talking some about the why’s of starting the coalition, what it meant to her, her own struggles with depression, and i’m thinking to myself, “uhhhhhh well if chase is gonna share about her mental health struggles, then... i... will also do this.” the nanosecond i said something about experiencing difficulty with self-love, she was zeroed in on me like a cruise missile. i spilled everything to her about my job and how my old boss was basically the meanest, most miserable person alive, and how much she got into my head and how now that i was out of that department, i had to pick up the pieces and it was proving to be much harder than it has been in the past. well, god almighty, chase just had the nicest things to say in return, and we commiserated over being your own worst critic, and how ridiculously hard it is to have this fight against yourself over and over again, but that we deserve so much and going forward is worth it. jesus christ! i got a big hug and said to myself, “holy shit i can’t wait to tell my therapist that a star trek actor talked to me about mindfulness and now i want to learn the hell out of it.”

oh but then it was time for the klingon party that we were now going to thanks to jg hertzler. this thing was off the chain immediately, martok and gowron had their duel, first with sparkling bat’leths that fell apart, and then with whole baguettes, and i can’t believe i got to watch this with my eye parts. and that was the beginning; the party would go for another 3 hours, almost all of which i spent dancing with the most generous people i’ve ever met, who went out of their way to welcome everyone they could onto the dance floor, regardless of physical ability or skill level. there was one woman in particular who, if she saw even the slightest twinkle in your eye and you weren’t already dancing with her, she’d be like, “you, get over here!” i don’t know how my body did that for all that time without falling apart.

our esteemed guests began showing up, and garrett wang leapt into the middle of our jump around circle and gave each one of us a vulcan high five. jeffrey combs showed up which of course sent dylan over the moon, and he said, “you go, girl!” to her dancing. max grodenchik gave dylan one of his drink tickets and then asked us whether or not we thought the existence of god could be proven. chase found us and reached out her hand over a couple people’s heads to give me a supportive hand squeeze (!!!???). aron eisenberg, i don’t know what the hell he was doing, but i feel like maybe somebody asked him about terry, because all of a sudden i hear something like, “terry left because she was in love with nog and couldn’t take it anymore.” garrett has three pokemon go accounts, which he showed off at my urging, and let me tell you, don’t encounter him at a gym because he has three dragonites, two tyranitars, a monster blissey, and god knows what else. dancing, dancing, more dancing. then it was time for it to be done, and time to go home. we watched reanimator. i was wired as hell and barely slept.

and THAT. was only friday.

saturday: i had kept my eyes open for a copy of the lives of dax the day before, but didn’t see anybody selling one. this morning, i walk by a booth we went to the previous day and all of sudden, on top of a bunch of other books in a big tub, there it was!!! couldn’t have forked my money over faster if i tried.

then i had this bright idea. hey... here’s a copy of lives of dax... and nicole is here... and she should sign it... and then in the future i can get terry to sign it... boom, bang, let’s do it, right? i had dylan drag me to nicole’s table because i was like, “i am never going to make even eye contact with her if you do not physically take me there,” and one of us brought up that we missed her at the klingon party. it’s cool, we all gotta sleep, right? well, it turns out nicole had gone out with the gaaays in spaaace people to the bar where they were going to have their party later. so she says garrett texts her, “uhhh hey you know you’re kinda supposed to be making an appearance at this thing, right?” nope! no clue. so she texts him back, “hmmm uhhh well,” takes another sip of her drink, “i think i’m doing good work here.”

the thing about nicole that i somehow missed in my drinking in of all ds9 actor content is that she embodies pure shitposter energy, but if the shitposts were coming from a wine mom. she’s hysterical, 50% intentionally and 50% unintentionally. an extremely excellent human. she signed lives of dax, i had my tribble photo op with her later (that i almost missed due to getting into a conversation with larry nemecek!) and she said she was going to the gays in space party later. helllll yes. i hope somebody puts up her q&a because she told a RIDICULOUS story about auditioning for ezri and creeping on jeri ryan on a plane. i can’t do it justice, there are movements that have to be seen.

we went to combsland finally, and i grilled him about whether or not herbert killed the cat, and we learned jeff has two cats! show them off, man! where are the vids! then, and i had never planned to do this, i bought an autograph from him, and the shran i bought it on ended up selling out! crazy.

hertzler had doodled a martok above his table, and so this combined with the little shran from yesterday led me to these words coming out of my mouth: “can i pay you for a drawing? can i pay you for a drawing of jadzia and martok brofisting?” he gave it very serious thought, said he was gonna have to look at a lot of pictures of terry (relatable), and told me to give him my e-mail. between him and his wife, i hope to god one of them remembers my e-mail is in his wallet. let me give you money!!!

my next tweets jump right to gays in space - again, dylan knows a lot of the gis folks, so i didn’t feel like i was going into this totally unawares. we’re chilling at the bar, i’m drinking my cranberry juice, and then o’reilly, aron, and nicole arrive, telling everybody that jg’s probably going to be late because a bouncer pushed his wife and he might go to jail. like, kidding, but also... it’s jg hertzler and he could legitimately fuck you up. so he was gonna be late, regardless.

nicole sees dylan and me and comes to say hello (????!!!!!) and somebody ends up saying, “get this lady a drink!” yeah, dylan and i were on that. in fact, i pulled my credit card out like i cared not one bit about identity theft, fico scores, my own personal finances; i would purchase this alcohol in an alley from a guy using a card skimmer. few minutes tick by and then i’ve officially bought a drink for nicole de boer (?????????!!!!!!!!) and i’m giving it to her (????????????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) and we’re clinking our glasses together (?????????????????????????????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) i’m clinking glasses with nicole fucking de boer and somehow managing to be normal about it. i’m not altogether convinced i didn’t exit the universe entirely by this point and end up in another one.

the gays in space party was AMAZING, it was just as fun as the klingon party! if you have a chance to go to one, please do, there’s like no way you could ever regret it. you get treated to star trek-themed drag shows, get to mingle, there was a raffle, the people were just as friendly as the previous day, it was so great. we were out very late for my old lady body clock but it was worth every bit of exhaustion we felt the next morning, after the saga of actually getting home past a blocked off road and dylan slicing herself open on the bottom of my passenger seat.

sunday: nicole sees me, mid-yawn, and gives me one of those, “eyyy you and me went through some shit last night huh?” looks and tells me good morning. ( ? ? ? ? ? ! !  ! you know this drill.) combs ended up on the escalator behind us after his panel and i turned around and i said to him, “hey jeff, you got any pictures of your cats with you?” (no, but he has a black cat and a very vocal calico.) i went to chase’s table again and got another hug right out of the gate, we took a pic together, and she told me i was powerful! yo! or rather yooooooooooooooooooo!

the con was winding down at this point, but there was one more thing left: jeopardy. the jeopardy game was done at the first northeast trek con and was so popular they did it again, and i really, really hope someone uploads it to youtube because it is beyond description. first of all, the whole draw were the contestants: you could enter a raffle to end up on either hertzler’s, aron’s, or garrett’s team. the champion from the last game ended up buying half the tickets, so he was on it again, and not on aron’s team, much to aron’s annoyance because god almighty did he want to win. he was about to commit murder in there. someone said nicole was upset that she wasn’t in the game because she really wanted to play, lmfao. so the guys running it were like, “well, go get her, she can be on garrett’s team!” which sent aron into a fucking tailspin. now we got a team with two people on it?! they got nicole and drew the other winners, and the game began. 

one of the rules was “this isn’t going to be fair. at all.” actually, it was two of the rules. despite this, you’d have thought aron was bitten by a rabid raccoon. every lost question almost got him flipping the table over. nicole belatedly, i’m talking like 5 minutes into it, realizes she doesn’t understand the rules of jeopardy and can’t figure out why “their” question was answered by someone else. she can’t believe someone knew what voyager’s registry number was. one of the questions was, “a young kid called ensign kim this name instead of ‘ensign’,” and with no hesitation, she answers, “asshole,” and wasn’t even joking, that was her actual guess.    R E A L    W I N E    M O M    H O U R S

the winner was hertzler and the previous champ. aron wants to ban the guy from buying tickets ever again. we head to the closing ceremony but it doesn’t happen? lmfao. well, guess the con’s over!

@abravenoise, one of our other con pals, and dylan were all taking the same bus that night, so we all went to grab dinner with two other guys, one who was a con pal and one i hadn’t encountered at all, and halfway through our dinner larry nemecek strolls in and sits down with us. things just keep happening, huh? the guy i hadn’t encountered at all was really impressed with me unhinging my jaw to consume my burger, and halfway through doing this i have to stop because he says, “hey, why the HECK did jadzia die?!” ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh here go hell come. my time to shine.

larry like looooves asking people what brought them to star trek, and this time he was asking us the -whys- of what brings us to star trek. i said the characters, for sure. he asked us about our favorites. i told him mine had changed throughout my life, but that when i was a kid, dr. crusher was my first favorite. he said, “in high school?” i said, “no, i mean, when i was REALLY little. like 4 or 5.” he asked me, “wow, have you ever met gates at a con and told her that?” pfft well, no, but first of all, now you got me wanting that, second of all i said what i really wanted was to swap cat pictures with her.

that was the end. i took everybody to their bus, went home, snuggled up in bed, and just asked myself, “what the fuck happened?” i still don’t know! but it was fun as hell, and amazingly impactful, if i’m being honest with you. i was surrounded by so many people brimming with enthusiasm, so many people who were happy. then there’s me, a curmudgeon who’s done everything in her power to stamp down her happiness all in the name of being ~cool or whatever. and it hasn’t made me very happy. i mean, i am also clinically depressed, there is that. but i’ve stopped sharing the things i enjoy with others, especially in recent years. i’ve closed myself off, mostly out of fear and attempting to survive my old job, but even here, i tend to keep myself at a distance, and i thought it was just because i’ve run the whole gamut of loving something before and just want to hang out with my friends. i think it’s more than that, though. i think it’s more of a defensive posture, and it’s that same posture which is running my life right now. it’s exhausting. this weekend wasn’t exhausting. it was in the sense that the human body needs rest and sleep and food and i wasn’t getting nearly enough of any of it, but emotionally, i was unburdened.

it would be nice to be that way all the time. i don’t know if it’ll be possible to be happy again like the people i met this weekend, but i do know that i want to experience this over and over and over again.

now, next time, maybe @rootmacklin and @jadziadax will be with me and we’ll be showing off our friendship necklaces to a very tall lady. that would be a good step toward unlocking my happiness...

[fairyshuuu]

Bleached Lilac

Pairing: Winwin x Reader Genre: Fluff, angst Length: 16.3k Warnings: mental abuse, physical abuse, addiction, attempt of suicide, abusive parents, alcoholism, extreme bullying, suicide mentions, substance use (it’s not all bad, i’m just being thorough) I love everyone in nct the most, I just needed a bad guy. Forgive me.

You sigh, rolling your eyes back into your skull. You hate Literature. Nothing against the subject itself, just… the people in your lecture hall are annoying, and loud. And having to spend 2 hours with them, two days a week, is too much. You tug your hood up more, hiding your bleach blonde hair from sight. You wanted to color it something cool, but got stuck mid-bleaching with fried hair that doesn’t want to pick up any color.

Somehow, you’ve grown to like it. It fits you. You chew your gum mindlessly, trying to distract yourself from the noises in the back, and look back down at your notes. You’re lucky to be keeping up quite well. You really can’t afford not to be though, this is the only shot you have at improvement. It’s one you’re not planning on slipping through your fingers.

The professor beams up the powerpoint, and claps his hands. “Right.” You look around the hall quickly. A lot of people skip Literature. The class that was overspilling with students the first two lessons now barely has a half of their population on most lessons. “Guys! Quiet down now.” Your prof droans, walking to his desk.

“Before we begin today, let me just quickly take the time to address that we have a new student in our class. Dong Sicheng is a Chinese transfer student. I expect you all to behave like adults and help him if he needs help, since his English isn’t the best.” At the mention, everyone in the room turns around, looking for said person.

You can’t hold yourself, and turn back. All the way at the back of the hall, sits a young man with his black hoodie tucked over his head, looking down at his notes with a flush. Murmurs break out. He doesn’t look up from his notes though, hiding more into himself. You turn back to the front. That wouldn’t be you. You have enough on your plate already. Tutoring wouldn’t become another one of your worries.

You tug your hood forward again a bit when it slides back, and brush your hair behind your ear. Good that you’re sitting all alone, and not between the mess of people that congregate in the middle seats, and talk through the entire lesson. Class starts, and the professor starts catching up with last week’s lesson. At the one familiar voice, you just sigh. Too bad that you’re still in class with some people who know you from high school. High school sucked.

Walking out of class goes quickly, since you were sitting pretty much next to the door. You don’t have classes anymore for today, and would like to get home as soon as you can. You carefully squeeze past two girls who walk in front of you, and speed your steps a little more, rushing through the hall. You still have to go to the store for your mom, and-

“Hey!” You freeze for a second at the loud shout, keeping your eyes to the floor, before pulling your bag up more and speeding up the pace. Not for you, please, not for you. Not today, not right now. “Hey.” It sounds again, closer this time, with multiple sets of speeded footsteps. An arm slams down in the wall in front of you, blocking your path. You just pause your steps, and wrap your hands tighter around the straps of your bag.

“Hi there. So nice to run into you again.” The deep voice chuckles, earning more than a few laughs. You take a deep breath, before turning to the young man standing in your way. Johnny Seo. You look at the people gathered around you, like a pack of vultures. Do they really have to hold you up in the middle of the hall? People who pass look over at you with wide eyes, before whispering to each other while they walk out.

You lower your eyes to the floor again after taking a quick glance at the leading faces. Lee Taeyong. Jung Yoonoh. The Neo Oasis kids. Another horde of students pass, going to get lunch at this hour, probably. They all look at you, the person who is surrounded by guys from the most popular frat house, but no one dares to find out why you pissed them off. Johnny is the one to start, though you don’t look up at him at all. “Don’t have anything to say? Cat got your tongue?” He janks your chin up so he can look you in the face. “Or is it still glued to some old guy’s cock?”

“Fucking disgusting.” Taeyong grunts, earning some approval from the guys behind him. They are all NOC guys. Of course.

Yoonoh’s face pulls into one of disgust. “Wait, I guess I missed half of the conversation earlier, when I was talking to that chick in Literature. What the fuck is going on?”

“The slut that sucked off my uncle Terry.” Johnny lifts his one brow. “This is her.” You try to pull your face from his grip but it only results in Johnny grabbing your arm as well. It stings really bad, and you need to clench your teeth to keep tears from welling up. You didn’t ever do anything to these guys, you really didn’t.

“Oh,” Yoonoh responds, pulling his fingers through his honey colored hair, before swallowing, “I think I’m gonna puke.” He turns to you then, looking you up and down two times, before looking away with a frown. “Why would anyone want to touch that drunk fuck?”

Johnny shrugs. “You’re asking something there, bro. But I guess she’s used to it. Her dad and mom are alcoholics too, so it must come natural to her. Doyoung saw her go into his home just last week.”

“How old is that dude?” Taeyong cuts in. “Isn’t he like 56 or something? Everything must have sagged down to his knees at that point. How can she even- uh, fuck mate, I get sick just thinking about it.”

Rumours are dirty things.

You swallow, pulling your hair loose from your ponytail, and pull your old bag on your back. You hate working as a waitress, but it’s the only thing people want you in, and your parents need the money. So you work hard three days a week, to make sure you all don’t starve. The evening is cold, it makes your breath into little clouds.

You quicky pull the door of the restaurant closed behind you, and walk down the road home. You rush down the littered sidewalk quickly, body tired and aching to get into bed, glancing to your right for just a second. An older man sits on the sidewalk, sweating like he has a fever, surrounded by a few empty bottles. He murmurs to himself, in his drunken stupor. Your legs slow automatically.

You look left and right for anyone who might know this man, but you already know that it won’t be the case. Biting your lip, you blink, and walk over. You can’t just leave him in the cold, he’ll freeze. You’ve had to bring your parents home in a near hypothermic state more times than you can count. “Sir?”

“Wha-? I’m not hurting anyone, sir. I swear!” He mumbles, waving his bottle left to right. “I’m just- restin’ for a bit.”

You sigh, and nod. “Okay. I know. Come on, I’ll bring you home. Do you have your wallet with you? Anything that says your address?”

“I don’t have no money no more. You can’t take nothing from me.”

You help the man up, letting him rest into your frame, as you wrap his one arm around your shoulder. He reeks of a multitude of heavy alcohol. “I’m going to take your wallet out, to find your address, okay?” You sigh, and pull him up a little more, holding onto him with one arm, while the other fishes out his wallet. He mumbles some disagreements, but you have his clinic card out in a second. It says his address in clear letters on the front, along with the name of the kick-off clinic he goes to.

“Okay,” you sigh again, before starting to walk, “lets get you home, Mr. Seo.” You’ll be home late today, it’s quite the detour.

You swallow, before looking up at the guy. “Can you please let go of me? I just want to go home. My parents will worry.”

That calls for bursts of laughter. “Sure they will.” Johnny’s lips curl into a nasty grin. “And then they will grab for the nearest bottle, and forget they even have a child.” He lets go of your face. “Tell me. How bad do you have it? Do you need a bottle before bed too? Or do you just drink ‘casually’, like all of them?”

“I don’t drink. Now please,” you murmur, twisting your arm against his grip painfully, wincing at the skin that gets pinched, “let go of me. I never did anything like that. Just leave me alone.” You keep pulling, but really, Johnny is two heads taller than you, there’s nothing you can do. He uses his weight to keep you in place against the wall.

“Oohh, she’s feisty.” Taeyong giggles. He walks over, and grabs a handful of your hair, causing Johnny to chuckle. The pink haired man yanks your head back painfully, as you grab at his hands painfully. “I like that.” His other hand grabs at your shirt, pushing it up to reveal your waist, while you try desperately to get away.

Everything Taeyong does is followed by laughs of the others though. “Get off of me!” You yelp.

“She’s not bad, too. Look at that ass.” Taeyong grunts, holding you still. Again, people laugh.

“Turn her around, dude, we can’t see!” Someone yells, to which Taeyong gladly obliges. He turns you the other way, wrapping his one arm around your hips.

“Just too fucking bad that she’s probably filled with diseases, Tae. I mean, can’t be any different if she fucks a dude that sleeps on the street. But you have some yourself, so you don’t mind that, right?” Yoonoh grins, squeezing his friend’s shoulder.

“Oh, fuck off.” Taeyong huffs, before finally letting go off you, and pushing you to the floor. People giggle at the interaction between the two friends, and all walk away, you already forgotten on the floor by most. Johnny stays looking back for a while though. He walks over, pulls your bag open, and yanks out your books.

“Good riddance picking me, of all people, to piss off. Have fun the rest of your school run, whore.” He tosses your papers against the wall then, watching them spread all over the hall, and walks away, tossing his arm around one of the guys at the end of the pack.

Only when they all disappear down the hall completely, that you turn to lie on your back, and stare up at the ceiling. Your eyes sting, and soon tears are rolling down your cheeks, as you tug your shirt down as far as it can go. With shaky arms, you push yourself up, and wipe the tracks on your face away. Normally, you’d be embarrassed, but everyone has already left to go get food, so you guess there’s no one to be embarrassed to.

As quickly and silently as you can, you bend down to collect all your papers, and stuff them into your bag. Half of the papers crinkle in the process. You don’t care, you want to get out of here. When you look at the floor, you see some drops reflecting on the ground. You swipe them away with your foot, and straighten up, turning the opposite way the guys left.

You eyes flutter for a second. In the middle of the hall, there’s someone looking at you with wide eyes. You recognize him. It’s the new transfer student, that sat all the way in the back of the lecture. His hair is wild and fluffy, tucked into his black hood which is pulled up all the way. It’s a soft shade of faded purple, standing out against his warm skin color perfectly.

His eyes are wide and soft, as he focusses straight on you, from where you’re staring back at him, a slight blush on his face. You don’t know if he saw. You hope not. He blinks a couple of times, before finally closing his mouth. You just take a deep breath, lower your eyes to the floor, and walk past as quickly as your legs let you. Your footsteps echo the hall too loud, drumming through your frame. You hurry past, and take the quickest way home.

--

You pause when getting at the door. Shouts sound from inside, both male and female. Only when they die down and the hall is left in silence, do you move again. You bite your lip and fumble for the keys in your pocket. The door to your apartment is painted a gross green color, though the paint is chipped off in multiple places. You jam in the keys quickly, and keep your head low. You know what you’re walking into, and the best way not to get hit is to not look.

You push open the door, and quickly shut it again behind you. You floor is littered with papers, empty bottles and candy wrappers, like always. You walk past the table, and over to the back room. When you push it open, you’re met with a strong smell of whiskey. You sigh, and drop your bag by the door, walking over to the bed.

Your mom is lying in the bed, empty glass on the bedside table, and deep streaks of purple under her eyes. Her eyes flutter when you put your hand on her forehead, and brush away some of her hair. “Wh- Ah- little-”

“It’s me, mom.” You mumble, taking her hand as she reaches it out for your cheek. Every time she drinks, she thinks that you are your little sister, which means she thinks that a lot. You’re not little Sophie. Sophie is dead, has been for years. You don’t tell that her right now though. You stand up and walk into the kitchen.

With a small hop, you climb onto the counter, and reach up to get a glass out of the cabinet, hopping down with more care, so that you don’t accidentally smash it. You quickly fill it up with some cold tap water, and look around for a second. You don’t see your dad, but you know that he’s most likely home. He had work in the morning, which means that he went to a bar after, and must be home for a while now.

With soft steps you walk back into the room. Your mom has been addicted for 23 years now, falling back in and out of it so many times you’ve lost track. You dad has been addicted for even longer. Both of them have been drinking too much as long as you can recall, though the last 7 years have been much worse.

You sit back down next to her on the edge of the bed. “Here you go.”

She shakes her head though, reaching her trembling fingers over to the empty bottle of whiskey. “I want this.” She says, frowning at you. The water gets pushed aside, almost spilling everything on the floor.

“You can’t have any more, mom.” You murmur, reaching over to pry the bottle out of her hands, but she doesn’t let go. “Mom. You can’t have anymore, let go!”

“I want this!” She suddenly screams, pushing you off the bed in anger, and sending you to your knees on the beige carpet.

You just close your eyes, and hold the tremble of your lip, standing up again. When you reach for the bottle, she screams like a child throwing a tantrum, before swinging the thing back and forward to keep you away.

You just look at her for a while, tears welling up to rest at the sides of your lashes, and take a shaky breath. You can’t do this today. “Where is dad? Do I need to put him to bed too?”

“I want more, right now!” Your mom seethes in anger, angrily fisting her hand into her hair.

“You can’t have any more! You drank the whole bottle! You drank everything! It’s gone!” You yell. Your voice rings through the apartment for a second. You really, really don’t want to do this today. You sink down the floor next to the bed, and hide your face in your knees. If you would only be strong, so that you could help your parents through this like a good child would. You don’t want to right now, though. You’re disgusting, and selfish.

Loud stomps sound from the bathroom then, and in two seconds you’re wrapping your arms around your neck and face. Your dad pulls open the bedroom door. “What is all the noise in here?! What are you doing!” His voice sounds double too, tongue thick from the alcohol, just like how you predicted.

“Nothing. I’m not doing anything.” You whisper, chest pulling into itself. You don’t want to have to cover up another bruise for the next two weeks.

“What?! Speak up.” He barks, looking over your mother and then at you. His height towers over you even now when you’re an adult. “And this is what I come home to! I work the entire day, and for what! You two are home the entire day, you can’t even make sure the house is clean and the food is ready!”

“I was at school.” You say, making sure you’re not talking into your clothes this time.

He walks around the bed, and glares down at you, hands hanging next to his body limply. “I said speak up! Don’t say anything if you don’t want me to hear it!”

“I was speaking up!” You say, clenching your teeth. You recognize your mistake as soon as his hand connects with the underside of your jaw. His smack is sloppy, knocking you over.

“Don’t talk back to me, young lady! Do you have any idea who you are talking to?! I have to take it from your mother, I’m not taking it from you.” He towers over you, and points an angry finger, clenching his teeth. “Understood?”

You just swallow, and hold your hand against your chin, pulling up your nose when it starts running. Your eyes skim over the grains of the wooden bedframe. “Yes, dad.” You’ll probably have to go find him in the early morning, hanging at the bar. Another detour before school.

--

You keep your face down when walking into the lecture hall. This class is Linguistics, one you don’t share with most of the NOC guys, but you’d rather not catch anyone’s eyes at all, today. Your bruise didn’t show up too much, so a layer of concealer was able to hide it pretty well. Your grey sweater is to warm, but you don’t dare wear short sleeves, for multiple reasons.

Your hands shake a little when you take a seat more at the top of the chairs, and put your bag down. You haven’t had money to buy new contacts, which is why you sit at the front, but you don’t want to be in the direct view of anyone. As silently as possible, you take out your book and some empty papers, before sitting down.

Further along the row, all the way against the wall, sit a couple, but they are too lost in their own world to even spare you a glance. The other seats next to you are empty. You sigh deeply, and pull the hood down from your face. It’s really hot here. You quickly flick to the correct page in your textbook, and read over it again quickly.

Only when feet appear in your line of vision, you pause. You don’t dare to look at the person. Surely, they wouldn’t start something in the middle of class. The feet pause a little when passing by your row, that’s all that you can see out of the corner of your vision. For a moment you think they’ll just walk past to sit in the very last row, but the person turns around.

He, judging by the black sneakers, you guess it’s a he, walks into your row, and sits down two seats away. When he bends down to get his stuff out, you glance over. The transfer student. Oh, that’s right, you’re probably sitting in his seat. Immediately, your anxiety ebbs away, and you let your head lull back in defeat. Your body hurts from being stressed all day.

You look back at the front, but glance over at the taller boy once again. He has a backpack with pikachu on there, along with a bunch of other pokémon, and a bright red pencil case. Strange contrast between the all black he’s wearing. You look down at your own clothes. You’re also dressed in all back, apart from your sweater, which has a giant oker and blue school logo on the front.

You tutt your lips. You just want the class to pass quickly. Suddenly, a soft voice breaks your little bubble. “I’m- Winwin.” You look over, while the young guy peers at you from under his hair. His voice is deep, a silvery roll of words, even though he has only spoken so little.

You bite your lip, and give him a shy nod, hesitating for a split second. “Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N.” You don’t look him in the eyes as you say it, though. It’s just a habit you picked up. You don’t like making eye contact when talking. The little exchange you had quiets down after that, both of you seemingly unsure what to say.

Winwin swallows, and looks to the front, picking at his papers mindlessly. Your mouth goes into a tight line, as you look to the front too. “You- you know… China?” The soft spoken boy suddenly says, turning back over to you. His words sound quite foreign, and very unsure. You can’t help the little smile that crosses your lips at that. It’s cute.

“Yes.”

Winwin nods, and looks around the hall again, before looking back once more. “You go… to China?”

You blink at him softly, before a giggle erupts. You’re not laughing at him, not at all, it’s just that he looks so boy-ish and shy when he speaks, that you can’t help but find it terribly adorable. “I’ve never gone to China, no. But if I had the chance, I would love to go.”

“I’m from China.” He smiles, nodding happily.

“I’m from here. I have lived 10 minutes away my entire life.” You counter, leaning over your desk a little. Not that you’ve never had friends, you had some in high school, but in college you never got brave enough to introduce yourself to anyone. So now you didn’t really have anyone to talk to anymore, let alone call a friend.

“Are you English major?”

“Yeah, I am. What about you? ”

Winwin juts out his bottom lip, and gestures with his hand. “Uhm- in- international…” He doesn’t seem to remember the second word, so just says it in Chinese. “International-”

“Oh, international relations!” You cut in, glad to see Winwin nod.

“International relations.” He repeats, clicking his pen a few times. “My English is … not good.” He seems apologetic saying it, while you raise your eyebrows.

“No, it’s good! I can’t even speak English properly, let alone another language.” At that Winwin blanks for a second, before smiling. You guess he needs some time mentally translating the sentences.

“You new-”

Winwin gets interrupted by the professor that speaks up suddenly. “We have a lot to go over, everyone. Please pay attention from now on, we’re starting.” She calls, pushing her glasses further up her nose.

You give Winwin an apologetic smile, and look at the front. The boy looks a little shocked by the sudden interruption. He looks around truly lost, before bending over his book and starting to flick in it. You look over twice, before leaning over the empty seat, and whispering under your breath.

“Page 36, at the bottom.”

Winwin gives you a big eyed stare, before relaxing a little, and smiling. “Thank you.” You slide back in your seat then, and give him a thumbs up, which he copies.

--

You and Winwin have a load of classes together, it turns out. You don’t know why he needs a lot of the courses an English major needs, but you guess it’s to get more accustomed to English, and how it sounds in a natural habitat. You can’t even imagine having lectures in another language though. Every lesson you two both have, you and Winwin end up sitting together in the back of the room.

He doesn’t know a lot of English, but tries his very best to keep conversation going, something you appreciate immensely. Though you don’t have a lot of conversations, you think he starts feeling more comfortable very quickly. You help him with lessons, or try your best to, since you don’t know Chinese. The week passes quite quickly, and Thursday afternoon, you and Winwin walk the same way out of the building.

“Mrs. Toblone is not very nice though, I think you’ll have her on Monday. If you need any help, just ask me and I’ll-” Loud, high pitched giggling sounds from the side of the hall. You look over. Sat on the windowsill sit two girls, looking up from their phones to stare in your direction. Winwin’s shoulders immediately tense.

“Hey, Winko!” One of the girls calls. Her long brown hair is pulled up in a ponytail, as she takes out one of her headphones. You don’t recognize either of them. She flutters her long lashes for a second. “How has the dorm life been so far? Do you enjoy your little side of campus?” You frown at the tone she uses to talk to him. It sounds extremely condescending. What the hell is her problem?

Her friend smiles, before talking too. “There’s another ching chong there, right? Have you two been getting along well?” Your mood takes a flip for the worst very quickly, but you don’t dare cut in. Most of the time that doesn’t help against pretentious people like that. “Still not gonna talk?” She giggles.

“Suit yourself.” The other rolls her eyes, and pushes her headphones back in. You just take a deep breath and keep walking, grabbing a hold on Winwin’s hand. He doesn’t say anything when you do, though he flinches a little at the sudden move. You keep a hold on his hand until you are outside the halls, and breathe in deeply. You know what it feels like to be bullied, and it sucks.

Winwin seems like a genuinely good person though, he doesn’t deserve that. You deserve the torment, he doesn’t. Winwin smiles softly when you let go of his hand and cross your arms over your chest. “They don’t like me.” He mumbles.

You instantly frown. “Don’t worry about stupid girls like that. What do they know, anyway? I don’t see them learning a new language from scratch. They’re just stupid, pretentious bimbos.” Winwin looks at you a little blankly, like he doesn’t understand a word of what you just said, but he seems to appreciate the sentiment. You sigh, and give him a little push in his arm, smiling. “I like you. And other people will like you too.”

After that you and Winwin get close really quickly. He doesn’t say much, but there seems to be some sort of mutual understanding between you both. You hang out on Sunday, to run over your notes, as you read them out loud for him, rolling around on his bed. His dorm is very clean, surprisingly. Monday, you sit together before class starts, and watch as he draws little smiley faces as a border on his paper.

Winwin is a genuinely bright person, you notice. He loves taking time while walking to look around and stare at the sky, or thanking people multiple times when buying food. You start really anticipating seeing him again, since it gives you a sense of normality, to hang out with him. One thing you don’t look up to though, is Tuesday. Winwin smiles when walking into Literature, and gives you a little shove when you tug up your hood more.

Normally, you’d play back, but one glance at the group of loud guys in the middle of the room, and your entire mood is spoiled. Winwin notices pretty quickly, and looks up at the rest of the room. You take a deep breath and stick to the wall when ascending the stairs, hoping that some of the other people that walk up too hide you from the view.

Winwin takes hold of your hand when you get to the middle of the stairs, and pulls you back. “Y/N?” He catches your eyes, and then points at the board. “Eyes hurt.”

You told Winwin about your contacts over the weekend, and that sitting in the back made you have to squint the entire lesson, so on Monday you both took a seat more to the middle of the room. Now though, you want to get as far away from the middle of the room as possible. You bite your lip, and shake your head intently, pulling your friend past the middle rows.

“Not in the middle, Win.” You whisper, and keep your face to the ground, in hopes that they didn’t see you. Winwin looks confused, but follows behind you to where you take a seat all the way at the back. When you sit down and slump into your seat, the boy frowns.

“Why?” He runs a hand through his floof of hair, and blinks his big, dark brown eyes at you, pouting a little.

You just blink blankly, and look at your table. In your peripherals, you can see Yoonoh turn back in his seat though, glancing in your direction quickly. “Fuck.” You bite your cheek and lean down to get your stuff out, slamming it down on the table way more aggressive then normal.

Yoonoh whispers something to Johnny, before they both start laughing. It catches Winwin’s attention too. You really didn’t want to deal with them today. Luckily class starts soon, and you are glad to sink back all the way in your seat, to hide from anyone’s view. You can practically see the talk about you spread through the room, eyes and faces turning back and looking back to the front, before giggling or talking is hushed tones to their friend.

The entire lecture hall seems to know about the rumors that the NOC kids started. Rumors backed by zero actual evidence, but they don’t care. They just want a reason to hate you. Johnny already hated you way back in high school, when he discovered, along with a lot of your class, that your parents were drunk most of the time. Why it bothered him on a personal level, you don’t know.

You take notes to the best of your ability, but it’s hard when you keep feeling eyes on the side of your face, both from other students and Winwin. The class crawls past painstakingly slow. When you finally watch the clock tick on the last minute and the professor announces the end of class, you sigh deeply, closing your eyes.

“Y/N?” Winwin stands up from the seat, and starts packing his stuff into his backpack, as he glances over to you. “Go to my house and study?” You rub your hands over your eyes for a second, before looking up at him. His pout is obvious.

You swallow, and see movement from the corner of your eye, before pushing your nails into your arm. “No, not today. You can go on!” You smile at him, and stand up from your chair. You know Johnny and his posse is coming, but you’d rather have Winwin out of the mix. Your smile slips off as you help him stuff his textbook into his bag.

Before you know it though, a group of people appear at your side. Most students are leaving the room, and you can hear a girl laugh as she walks out. “Whore.” You just keep your eyes on the floor, and then look back over at Winwin. He’s not looking at you though.

“Hey, Y/N.” Johnny trails his finger over the edge of the desk, and grins down at you. “We haven’t seen you in a while.” His dark eyes slide over to Winwin then, who looks quite lost. “Who’s this?” He most likely knows who Winwin is, he just feels the need to drag him into the conversation.

You fist your hands into your papers, grabbing them tight to keep your hands from shaking. “I’d just like to go to my next class, if it’s the same for you.” You mumble, and put your stuff into your black backpack. When you look back over though, Johnny has his eyes fixed on Winwin, who doesn’t look away. “Johnny.”

“I wasn’t talking to you, bitch, I asked him a question.” Johnny puts his hands on the desk, leaning forward a bit with a cock of his eyebrow. Winwin stares with a small pout, before looking back at you. When he does, Johnny grins, cocking his head in disbelief. “Taeyong,” he calls, making the pink haired man look up from his bored scrolling on his phone from his spot against another desk, “did I fucking stutter?”

Taeyong looks between you and the taller man next to you twice, before frowning. “The guy must be a mute. You didn’t stutter to me.” He straightens up when you zip up your bag and look at the floor. “Honestly, bro, I’d rather go back to Taeil and the guys, than spend time having to look at these freaks.” He puts a hand on his taller friend’s shoulder. “Besides, nothing we could say could can make her look like more of a fucking loser than she is, just look at the girl. The freak gang doesn’t need our help.”

Johnny laughs at that, and straightens up, his height towering above you. “You’re right.” He stuffs his hands in his pants, and frowns at you. “We’re holding a party at the frat tonight. If you or your dumb lapdog even so much as come anywhere near the house, I’ll make you wish I’d do something as nice as beat your face in.” He gives you a mean smile, before pushing your hood off, and ruffling your hair. “Have a good day~”

His footsteps, along with those of the set of guys waiting for him, ring through the otherwise practically empty lecture hall, as you blink at the floor blankly. Without being able to help it, tears line your waterline, but you blink them away before they can fall. You swallow, and pull your bag up your shoulder, before looking over at Winwin. He’s staring the side of your face, but doesn’t say anything. You’re not sure how much of the conversation made sense to him, but most of it must have been pretty clear by the tone used.

You feel sorry towards him. This is all your fault. If you wouldn’t have been friends with Winwin, he wouldn’t be in this situation. You are so stupid. You grab his backpack from the floor, and hand it to him. “Why didn’t you go, like I asked you to?” You breathe, and take a step to the side, walking past. His hand wraps around your wrist as you do.

“Who is that?” His voice is heavy, deep, and if you didn’t know better, you’d swear he looks angry.

You just give him an empty smile. “Someone who doesn’t like me a whole lot.”

“Why?”

You look away, and pull your arm from his reach. You don’t want to talk about it, not to him. Not to the first person who seems to be able to stand you on most days, you won’t ruin that. “Go home, Win. Can you do me a favor and try to work out the exercise for Calc on your own tonight? You’re good at that. I’ll try to figure out the lab, and explain it to you tomorrow then.”

Winwin’s eyebrows pull together, but his face stays soft. His eyes glide over your face when you look away, before he sighs. “Meet tomorrow?”

“Yup.” You give him another empty smile, one you’re sure doesn’t reach your eyes, before patting his arm. “I’ll come to your dorm tomorrow, after my class. See ya.”

--

The days fly past way quicker than you imagined they would. School starts becoming your primary focus, Winwin, your second. He doesn’t question you, or your silence, and you’re eternally grateful for that. Along with the days picking up, so does the talking. People laugh when you walk past, whispering things to their friends. You don’t know what they say, but you don’t really feel like hearing it.

Johnny’s words get more mean with every interaction, but luckily those are rare. He doesn’t seem to want to spend his time on you. The damage is done though, people know. Winwin hangs out with you a lot though, which makes NOC despise him almost as much as they do you. And even though you don’t want him to suffer because of you, you’re glad to have him.

On a weekend where your parents are out, you invite him to your house, after a gigantic cleaning. He studies hard, along with making some shy jokes, the more comfortable he becomes in his speaking. Months go by in a flash, time in which you rely too much on the soft spoken boy, but he relies on you too. It’s scary, because you’re around him all the time. Every free moment you have is spent with Winwin, and somewhere along the road you started to think about him as your best friend.

You don’t want to think about what will happen if he leaves. So you don’t. That doesn’t stop your thoughts from drowning you at night. Every time he leaves, the words swarm your mind. You cry at night, until your eyes are so swollen you can’t even feel the tears anymore. Your parents don’t notice, of course they don’t.

Every time you wake up though, that one beam of light still stays. Winwin, with a cup of coffee, waiting at the end of your street. He’s gotten more buff since coming here first, since hitting the gym before class. You don’t know how he does it. The only thing different about you is your roots that have been steadily growing out. You should really get that done again. Through the months, you also hear people talking about the parties. All the parties you never got invited to.

You wonder sometimes if Winwin regrets talking to you that first day, because now he misses out too. You can’t help but think he must, deep down. He never mentions it though, and you guess he likes hanging out with you whenever you get the chance. Whenever you two go to his dorm, you get to stay over, something you love about Winwin more than anything, because you hate being left alone with your thoughts.

You’ve broken into your parents alcohol cupboard a lot in the last few months. It’s something you’re not proud of in the slightest, but it numbs the pain that nights alone bring, and it’s really the only way that you can fall asleep. You feel safe when you’re tucked in next to Winwin, who doesn’t mind sharing a bed. It’s nice this way, you feel like a normal person for some moments throughout the day.

--

You’re about to walk out of class when suddenly one of the girls you recognize from seeing around class stands up on her desk and turns around with a giggle, some of her friends cheering her on. She smiles widely and flicks her long brown hair off her shoulder, before clearing her throat. “It’s my birthday today!” She beams. You resist the urge to roll your eyes because that’s a little over the top in your opinion, but go along when everyone wishes her happy birthday.

When you look over at Winwin, he’s cheering enthusiastically, shaking his little sweater paws. You chuckle at the young man’s antics, and go to put your stuff in your bag.

“Thank you!” The girl smiles, before making another round on her desk. “So because it is my birthday, I’m having a party at my house tonight! And I expect you all to come!”

Her friend chimes in too, grinning proudly. “Heorin on Blackwood Avenue 6!”

Then they leave, under loud chattering from the others in the room. You look around for a second, and pause. ‘All’ as in, you all? ‘All’ as in, also you and your friend who people talk bad about all the time? That seems unlikely. When you turn to face Winwin though, he has this look on his face, arms crossed over his chest easily.

He stares for a moment, and then nods. “You want to go.” He says it just like that, which makes you frown. Sure, you want to go. But you’re not willing to get embarrassed by trying to get into a party and then have people toss you out after two minutes.

You lift your eyebrows at him, and stuff away your pencil case. “Is that a question or a statement, Win?”

“A fact.” He reaches over at takes your backpack out of your hands so you can’t hide your face in there, and ruffles your hair with a smile. “If you want to go, we’ll go.”

You just smile and try to take your backpack out of his hold. “I don’t think so. They don’t want me there.”

“They do. So that’s decided then. We’re going. So go home and get dressed. Text me when you’re ready.” Winwin uncrosses his arms and leans in to pinch your cheek. He smiles happily when you swat away his hand, but doesn’t give you room for discussion. “Want me to walk you home?”

You sigh but decide to give in. “No, I’ll be fine. You get home safely, please.” You pat him on the butt to usher him out of your way. Maybe it would actually be a fun night. Your parents are out of town too, so you don’t have to worry about them for a while.

“You too. I’ll come by later, okay?”

“Okay.” You nod, and give your best friend a quick goodbye hug.

--

You hadn’t expected to get inside like how you did. A slightly intoxicated Heorin had welcomed you with a friendly smile, and pushed open the door for you, motioning you inside. You aren’t sure if she just doesn’t recognize you because you aren’t wearing one of your signature dark hoodies, but she doesn’t say anything. The long sleeved top and shorts you are sporting right now are a little exposing, but you are glad because the house is so warm.

You had expected this too, but not to the extent that even walking into a room made you sweat. Tons and tons of people are packed into the spacious living and dining room of the house, dancing along to some music with a bass that vibrates through your bones. You reach behind you to hold onto Winwin’s hand tightly, and try to push through some people. With a little luck, no one would recognize you.

You also checked, and to your knowledge, Johnny or the NOC pack have another party to waste their evening at, so they won’t be here to ruin your fun. When you finally get to a space where you can stand without having to be pressed up against multiple others, you turn to Winwin and smile up at him. “Why don’t you go check out the dance floor while I go find the bathroom? I’ll be back in a second, okay?”

The next half hour goes by in a flash, being filled with a mini search for the purple haired man, and a two sets of drinks. Your eyes slide over the crowd again and to your relief, you still see no sign of any of those horrendous bullies, which brings a true smile to your lips.

You quickly poor two solo cups, one for you, one for the lanky man awkwardly dancing with a girl that seems so drunk she might topple over any second. You giggle as you catch his eyes, the look of ‘help me’ he gives you growing with the second, and you walk over rapidly.

“If you take anyone home, she better not be even a 10th as drunk as Mrs. Floppy Noodle over here.” You grin, taking his hand to pull him out of the mess of people. You don’t think Winwin is one to just take a random girl home, though he definitely had the looks to do so.

At your words, his eyes widen about twice the size, and he gives you a shove. “I’m not taking someone home.” He pauses, and looks at the red solo cup you push into his hands. “Except you.”

Maybe you’re being too into the teasing, but that sounded like he’d take you home. You, to his home, his bed, and not for any innocent reasons like in the past. You know that that’s not what he means though, and smile. “You better get me home safe, big guy.” Winwin rolls his eyes, before holding up his drink to you. “Cheers, Winko.” You two tap cups, and throw back whatever you just poured into the cups.

It’s a mixture of vodka and some red drink you don’t know what it is, but tastes like something peach, and it burns in the back of your throat. You cough after downing the whole thing. “Ew, I think that wasn’t a good idea.”

Winwin still has a sour face too. “What is that?”

You grin. “I have no clue. It’s horrible.” You agree, and put the cups away. You smile at your friend, and take his hands. “Okay, now we’re going to dance. I don’t care if you want to or not.” Winwin sputters behind when you drag him away from the kitchen and through the mess of people, holding onto your hand tightly. You get to a spot where people are sitting in the couches a few feet away, but there’s still enough space to move around, and turn to him.

When you just start moving, Winwin stares for a second. You close your eyes, feeling the rush of alcohol spread slowly through your skin. You feel warm, a little hazy. And right now you really don’t care if you look stupid or not, because you feel nice. You feel confident, if that’s a word you’ve ever used to describe yourself.

Your eyes flutter open to see the purple haired man raking his eyes over you, from top to bottom. You tilt your head. “Winwin. You do have to move, you know.” He swallows, and starts swaying to the music. You know Winwin can dance, and really good at that, but this isn’t really the place to break out into a gorgeous and elegant Chinese dance, like you’ve seen him do twice while waiting for him to finish practice.

This is more of a awkwardly-side-step kind of situation, so you can’t blame him for looking uncomfortable. That, and you’re kind of standing two feet apart, which doesn’t give him much space. Instead of watching as he bounces on his feet, you reach for his hands and turn around, gently guiding him to hold onto your waist.

When you look back and smile, he breathes in deeply. His hands glide a bit higher, but he doesn’t look away. You take that as a go ahead, and start dancing again. It’s not even been five minutes but whatever you tossed back is already tingling in your system and making you feel ten times more confident than you are. You enjoy the way his warm hands rest on your sides, even if you know that he means absolutely nothing with that. When you close your eyes again and lean into him a little more, everything seems to blur and slow. Winwin’s fingers that press little ovals into the soft skin that just peeks from under your crop top. The vibrating of the loud music that bounces off the walls. The swaying of your hips, and in turn, Winwin’s along with you.

His hands move more down, to hold onto your upper thigh, chest pressing against your back. You reach up your hand and tangle it in the base of his hair, pulling gently. A soft hum is pressed into your hair when he brushes his lips along your head, pulling back quickly but long enough to make you flutter. Like a hot fever that rushes over you all of a sudden, you feel this incredible weight on your chest.

Gratefulness and love for your best friend, the only person who has ever taken you in fully, accepted and cherished all of your sides, even the ones you know are not worth to be seen in broad daylight. You stop moving, suddenly feeling too aware of what you’re doing, and turn around slowly. Your heart beats loudly in your chest.

Winwin’s eyes stay closed for a second longer, long lashes spread out beautifully and perfectly. His hands hover in mid-air, as if holding onto your ghost, before he opens his lids slowly, eyes finding yours. His dark orbs don’t move for a second, though you have to look away again. You feel his gaze on your face though. You swallow then and scan the room once, before smiling softly as you take one of his hands, and look over at his soft expression. “Do you want another drink?”

Two more drinks in, you start to feel full. Full of alcohol, full of emotions and full of sudden doubt. Some people glare at you when you walk past. Strangers, judging you on sight. You put your cup down on the counter and walk back to where you left Winwin, who had assured that he didn’t want another drink, and look at him where he’s resting against the wall for a second.

He hasn’t noticed you yet, and is looking around with the most adorable blank slate expression. You’re so glad to have him. You breathe deeply, and pinch yourself once. It’s hard to know how you’re feeling, and what that means, when you’re in this state. Maybe the line between friendship and true romantic love has blurred because you’re so close, or maybe you are just standing on the line separating the two, you really aren’t sure anymore.

You’ve been in love only once though, so you can’t even really tell. You hope with all your heart though, that it’s just a deep rooted care for your friend. From what you remember, love is like a thick layer of fog at the break of dawn. It’s thick and there for a little while, shrouding everything, and then, as soon as it came, it burns away with the harshness of reality.

You don’t want to experience that with him. You want it to feel like this forever. You take another deep breath, and walk back over to him, smiling softly. Winwin looks up a little surprised when you suddenly come to stand in front of him. He doesn’t say anything, but opens his arms, to allow you to walk into his embrace. Right when you walk forward though, his breathing hitches. “Oh no.”

You look at his frown, and turn around. Johnny and Taeyong are standing at the far of the room, looking around casually. You hear tons of whispers from the girls around, and probably some boys too. Suddenly, you feel so small you might sink into the floor.

The infamous NOC frat commands attention as they walk around, greeting people and laughing. Johnny frowns though at something a friend of him whispers, and turns around in your direction. Since he towers out above most people, he spots you easily, definitely now that you don’t have a hood to hide your face in. As out of necessity, he walks over, face stone.

“I’ll give you two seconds to get the fuck out of my face.” He sighs, not even looking at you. He smiles at a girl behind you instead, winking at her. When you don’t move right away though, he looks at Winwin, and then at the ground where you’re stood. “What are you waiting for? A permit?”

You bite your lip harshly, and ball your fists. “We were here first. If you don’t want to be near me, then maybe go visit a party elsewhere.” You’re as surprised by your own courage as Johnny is.

The surprise melts into anger quickly though. Lucky for you Heorin comes to grab at your arm right at that moment. “Woah, what’s with the hostility, Johnny? We’re all trying to have a good time, right.”

He sighs, but tuts his lips at her. “If she’s staying, none of us are going to have a good time. I want her to fuck off out of my face. That’s all. No fights needed.”

Heorin opens her mouth to respond but you take that as your clue to leave. Really, your evening was ruined the moment he came through the door anyway, it’s not worth being tormented over even more later on. You grab your best friend’s hand, and walk out of the circle.

“Wha- Where are you going?” Heorin stumbles, “you don’t have to go! Don’t listen to Johnny here.”

You shake your head, looking at the floor instead of the gazes of the curious people around you. “We’ll be on our way. Thank you though.” The birthday girl sighs deeply, but waves it off when she sees you’ve made up your mind. You want out of here.

“Let me at least walk you out then.” You and Winwin keep close while Heorin leads you to the door, to keep the warmth between you two. You smile at the host of the party. The pretty girl sighs, and gives you two an apologetic look. “You’re welcome to come next time, really. I just-” She rubs her hand across her forehead, smoothing out the frown wrinkles. “Those guys are normally really fun to be around. Johnny most of all. I don’t know why he’s so rude and annoyed today.”

You shrug, and give her back her red solo cup. “They don’t like Winwin because he keeps me company. They don’t like me because…” You look at the floor and blink slowly. “Well, I’m sure the entire school knows the rumors by now.”

Heorin suddenly puts a hand on your shoulder, making you glance up in shock. “Not all of us believe everything that comes out of another’s mouth. I never believed the rumors in the first place.” With a small smile, you thank her soundlessly, before waving her back inside.

You give her a shy nod. “Go have fun. Thank you for letting us come out tonight.”

“Any time, sweetheart.” She nods, before waving again and closing the door. Winwin doesn’t say anything, though he suddenly pulls you into a tight hug. You blink blankly at the open stretch of road in your view, feeling his breathing on your collarbone. When he pulls back, he gives a tight lipped smile, before tugging you with to walk towards the sidewalk.

The road home would be pretty long. Your arms and belly get goosebumps almost right away, the difference of the night air stark with the inside walm of heat that comes from all people moving and rubbing up against each other. Strange to say that you enjoyed the night, when you don’t like either. You did though, you wish you and Winwin could come out more.

“I’m cold.” You sigh, pulling your top to cover more of your naked shoulders. The haze you felt inside somehow seems multiplied outside, blurring the houses on both sides. The street lights feel really bright, too. You swallow the thick feeling on your tongue, but it stays stuck in your mouth like glue. You might puke. “I’m really cold.” You say again, pouting at no one in particular.

Your taller friend nods, before looking down at your arms. He wraps his hands around yours, and pulls you into the side of his body, tucked safely under his arm. This way his shirt tickles your face, but you won’t complain. Winwin looks down at you after a second of silence, but you’re looking at the dents in the pavement, doing the best you can not to break your ankles on them.

“We can’t go to parties anymore.” His face is void when he says it, voice serious and jaw set.

Your lips curl up at that. There’s something humorous about being told the exact same thing so many times. “You sound like-” a giggle, “Johnny if you say that.” You look up at him, jutting out your bottom lip. Winwin looks down with his big brown orbs, face morphing into a frown. You just frown back, and blow out your cheeks. “You and your alcoholic friend aren’t welcome in the frat,” you mumble, lowering your voice to imitate said man, “take your mess somewhere else, freaks.”

Winwin shakes his head and looks back to the front, unable to help the small grin creeping up. It stays quiet for a while, as he mentally translates his words, and then he speaks up, deep voice sounding more playful than normal. “I hear some of druggies were ‘drugging’ under the bridge, go join them.”

You look up at him with wide eyes, giggling too much. “He definitely didn’t say that.”

“He said it to me.” He nods, pulling you aside a little to avoid a deep crack in the floor.

“No one says drugging~” you smile with a shake of your head, dragging out the word teasingly. “Who said that? Johnny?”

Winwin looks back at you again, before tutting his lips. “No, the other one.”

You smile at that. “The other one? Who? Taeyong?” At Winwin’s confirmation, you laugh again, letting your head fall back into his chest. You close your eyes for a second, listening to the blasting music from down the street, and sigh. You really hate those guys. Like, so much. They have no reason to torture you two as much as they do. You never did them anything.

“Oy!” A rough voice sounds, one that sounds echo-y because of the alcohol in your veins. You look up, seeing someone across the street. Yuta. Another one of the frat brothers. You have never talked to him personally, only seen him hanging around with Taeyong and Yoonoh in class, or sitting together in the grass.  Judging by his reaction though, he knows enough about you.

His dark hair parted two sides of his face, with dark smoked out eyeliner, and a wide grin on his face. He’s wearing a black tank top, and a grey jacket on top, with some dark bleached jeans. Of course he’s wearing a tank top. “Are you two fucking each other now?” His voice is too loud, almost shouting the entire street into a bunch.

Sober you would probably say something back, a denial, something, but right now your tongue is clumsy and you don’t feel like interacting with him. Winwin doesn’t say anything. His gaze just stays to the front. “What?! You couldn’t find any desperate middle aged dads to blow on a friday night?” He grins for a second, the look mean on him, and you look away to the floor instead. “Come on~~ It must be easy with your reputation. Like mother, like daughter, right?”

Your throat feels too heavy, alcohol burning in the back. You really don’t want to be sick right now. Yuta doesn’t give up though, even walking back the way he came a bit, just to follow you two across the street. “Right?! Answer me, dumb bitch.” You look at the floor near his feet.

Your answer comes almost immediately. Lucky that you’re not talking to your dad, a big mouth like this would have gotten you nothing but a smack to your cheek right away. “No.” Your tongue sounds double when the words falls from your lips.

“No?” He smirks, though the empty gesture slips of soon, transforming his face into an angry grin. “No? I think yes. I think you’ll end up just the same as your dumb ass whore of a mother. And that mute next to you will sell drugs on street corners like all the stupid cunts who don’t want to learn.” You look at your feet again, just following Winwin in his steps, and pull your lips into a tight line.

Probably noting that you won’t answer again, Yuta shrugs. “Cool.” He chuckles, looking around the street. Suddenly, he throws his empty vodka bottle. You both can’t move out of the way quick enough, so the hard glass smacks into Winwin’s shoulder, before clattering to the floor. “Fuck you guys!” He beams, voice thick. He holds up his two middle fingers when you look back, before walking towards the party with a giggle, and leaving you and Winwin on the side of the street.

Both of you stay frozen in place for a second, feet away from the next street light. It buzzes loudly. You stare out over the grass for a second, tears lining your waterline. When Winwin huffs, you reach up and brush at your eyes harshly. “I’m sorry.” You say, unable to keep your your lip from shaking. You look at his sharp face for a second, that is pulled together in a belated wince.

With a sniffle, you step from under his arm to push the jacket off his shoulder. Winwin protests in Chinese, but you don’t let him pull back. Carefully, you lift his shirt enough to reveal the nasty bruise that’s already forming. Vodka bottles can really make ugly marks, you know from experience. It’s right on his shoulder blade too. It’ll hurt for a while. You pull his shirt back down with a pull of your nose, and pull over the jacket again. This is your fault.

Your voice shakes the more times passes, unable to help it because of the drinks you downed. “I’m sorry.” Winwin pauses for a second, before shaking off the expression. You try to walk on, but he grabs your hand.

“What does it mean? What was he talking about?” Winwin bends down a bit to get into your vision. You don’t answer. Blinking away the tears, you just grab his hand, and pull him on more. You want to get out of this street, get home. “Y/N. What does it mean?” He repeats, trying to get you to stand still. You burst out crying when he pulls your shoulders, turning you to him.

“Nothing, Winwin!” You look at your feet, nose running. “It means nothing! Everything they say, means nothing to you! They are talking about me, talking to me! Don’t- Don’t try to un- understand. Just s-stop!” Your voice breaks at the end of the sentence. “Stop trying to change anything, because it won’t. They won’t stop. Ever!”

With a deep breath, you close your eyes, trying to stop your chest from closing in on itself. It’s not like you to lash out like this, and you immediately feel bad. Winwin is the only person you have. How dare you even speak up to him like this. How dare you. You really are an ungrateful child. Your lips shake. “I- I- I’m- s-s-” Pulls of air interrupt your apology, but Winwin seems to get the jist.

He pulls you into him. Your face pressed into his chest, while you probably wipe your mascara and snot on his clothes, he gently puts a hand on your head. You don’t care about getting his shirt dirty now though, and fist your hands into the fabric, keeping him close. “Come on home.” Winwin nods, and looks down at you for confirmation.

“Yeah,” you sniffle, pulling the back of your hand under your nose, “home, please.”

--

The walk through the city goes slowly, because you keep twisting your ankles. It doesn’t hurt a lot, but doesn’t show of much sobering up. You’re glad Winwin didn’t drink a lot. The more you walk on, the more of the alcohol seems to filter through, in fact. By the last stretch, your body is slumped into Winwin’s almost completely, and he has one arm under yours, the other around your stomach.

You don’t know if he doesn’t say anything because he doesn’t have the vocabulary to do so, or if he just doesn’t want to speak, but at least he is helping you. You swallow thickly, and stare as he puts his hand in your back pocket to get out your keys. “Hey! Tha’s not for you, Winko.” You smile, grinning as he rolls his eyes at you.

He searches around for a second, while you rest your arms around his waist. Winwin pulls back empty handed though, frowning. “Where are your keys?”

“Keys?” You mumble, looking around with unfocused eyes. Didn’t you take it? “I don’t know. I didn’t have them earlier.”

Winwin pauses, and turns you around to check all your pockets. Nothing. He sighs, before frowning in thought. “Do you have spare keys at my place?”

You blink up at him, while sinking down against the hall, and tutt your lips. “Yeah, I think so. I think I left ‘em last time, right?”

Winwin nods. “Okay. Come, we need to get them.”

You shake your head though, jamming your fingers into your shoe. “No.” You pout, and try to pull of the thing, though it doesn’t really work. “My feet hurt,” you mumble, voice trembling sadly, “I don’t wanna walk anymore.” When you give him another sad look, Winwin just blinks for a second. He’s clearly torn.

But taking you with would have it take twice as long, and you don’t want to move anymore. He runs a hand through his hair, and nods. “Stay here.” You nod limply, but Winwin bends down in front of you. “Really. Don’t move.” You just nod again, and let your head cock back against the wall. Not that you’d have anywhere else to go. “I’ll be back soon.” He nods, and takes off his jacket to drape it over your exposed legs.

Then he’s off, with quick footsteps. The walk to his dorm is quite a while, but at least he doesn’t have to drag you around. You frown, and let your eyes flutter closed. Your worry spikes up when you hear the door downstairs open and fall back shut though, indicating he’s really gone. What if he runs into the Oasis dudes again. You let your head fall to your shoulder, and think back at Johnny, earlier.

He’d really like for you do disappear. You would like that too. Time ticks by slowly, and after a good five minutes your eyes flutter closed.“I’m tired.” You whine into the air, opening your heavy eyes again. “I wanna go… i’side.” You frown, and jam your clumsy fingers in your pockets again. The key is really gone. You sigh, and look up at the door you are sat next. Your vision sways a little because of the brisk movement. When you focus though, you see the flower pot at the end of the hall, and a light goes on.

You hid some extra keys behind there, for safety. You huff and drop the jacket next to you, pushing yourself up from the floor and keeping yourself from toppling over by holding onto the wall. You lift the flowerpot, and smile at the single key that lays on the floor. You quickly pick it up, and rush over to the door, looking around the hall proudly. Winwin would be proud of you. You pick up the jacket and push in the key door, letting your weight lean into the door while unlocking it.

With heavy steps you enter the tiny apartment, stumbling against the wall for a second, and close the door behind you. Winwin is going to run all the way back for nothing now, but he’s probably already halfway home, so it’s no use trying to call him back. You huff and try to kick off one of your shoes, failing a few times at first. Sitting down in defeat, you pry your fingers into the boots to pull them off. Why are these shoes so difficult?! When you look around, you notice that the apartment is uncomfortably warm. You should have left the window open a little. You’re too hot right away, your skin feels sticky in this top.

With fluttering eyes, you push yourself up from the floor after kicking your shoes off, and turn on the button to the speakers that sit next to the door. Some soft background music fills the room. You run a hand through your hair to brush it out of your face, and frown at the mess on the floor. It’s not the first time Winwin has been here though, so you don’t care too much. He knows that you’re a disaster. You toss his jacket on the old couch, and slump against the wall for a second. Your head is really spinning badly now.

You’re still thirsty, mouth sticky from the last drink you smoothly tossed down. Maybe drinking something will help your head from buzzing. You walk over to the fridge, and take out a bottle, quickly taking one of the many spoons on the counter, and crack open the drink. That’s one thing you’re good at, at least. You take two quick gulps, but the drink feels painful and raspy in the back of your throat. You don’t want this. With a frown, you put it on the counter. Maybe Winwin would want it later.

Your feet drag when you walk over to the window, and lean your forehead against it quickly. The coolness of the glass feels immediately better, bringing your headache down a bit. At least, that’s the plan. You feel really drunk, more than most days. Yet your head is heavy, while your body feels joyful. Standing with your head down, makes your stomach twist though. When you close you eyes, images of Taeyong and Yuta come to mind, their hands on your neck and hips, and Johnny towering over you. You pause.

You never did them anything. Never bothered them, yet still they torture you and your friend. Maybe it’ll be your legacy for the rest of your life, being the fucked up daughter of two alcoholics. You probably deserve all the shit they give you. Tears prick at your eyes, and you wipe them angrily. Why are you crying this time?! You shouldn’t cry, you don’t have anything to cry about. Johnny’s voice rings through your ears.

Whore. Dumb bitch. Freak.

You loll your head, letting it cock back away from the window, and let your gaze travel the room. On the counter that cuts up the kitchen and living room, there’s a pack of beers. You’re drunk, but clearly not drunk enough, if you can still remember those guys’ faces. You walk over to the lowered wall and pull the pack against you, trying very hard not to drop them. Clumsily, you let the pack rest on your lifted thigh, and pull out a can after some trying, cracking it open and downing it too quickly. It’s bitter. You don’t mind.

Again you look around, realizing again you’re really too hot. Your first thought is ice, but instead of looking for it in the freezer, you walk over to the bathroom, and flick on the light. You try to pull your sweater over your head a couple of times, but it doesn’t work. So instead, you walk over to the shower, and turn it on cold. It rains down into the white bathtub.

You hold out your hand to feel the water drip through your fingers. It’s is freezing, and it cools you down. Good. You dunk your head in first, getting your hair all wet, and next your entire body follows, when you lift your legs to clumsily tumble into the tub. The cold shower feels good. Another drink is opened, and downed. Your head hurts, just like your chest. After a while, you look around, and see that your socks are getting drenched too. The bathtub is filling up. You slide down into it, letting the cold drops hit your face.

With your empty hand, you twist open the tap too, making the bath fill up slowly. Maybe you’ll disappear finally, if you let it fill up high enough. You toss the empty can to the floor and reach for another. Someone would tell you to stop if you weren’t alone, but you don’t care. You want more to drink. A long while passes, just resting in the cold water, before it starts reaching your neck.

You look over at the tap, and at the mess you’ve made. There’s two cans left from the pack of eight, one of which you grab for again. The tap stays on, water pouring into the bathtub, while the shower head drums drops on your face. You lift the beer to your lips again, not caring if half of it spills into the bathwater. It’s only when rushed feet sound from the hall, that you pause.

The water now reaches your cheeks, and you have to tilt your head to breathe. A shout sounds from somewhere, but it sounds too distant, your face is dunked under the water. “Y/N!” It sounds again, more clear now. A person comes into the bathroom right as you close your mouth and eyes from the raising water, and let the water swallow you. His hands are on you before you can realize, and are pulling your head up. Your vision sways along with the movement.

Winwin falls to his knees, wrapping his arm around your back, and pulls you out of the water so that your top half is resting against him. The showerhead rains down on him too, but he doesn’t seem to care. He doesn’t lessen his hold on you as he looks around. His eyes slide over the dirty floor, the crumpled drinks, and back to the water where you’re laying in. He swears something in Chinese, before reaching his hand into the water. His hand searches around, pushing your thighs apart to pull the plug from the bath.

The water gurgles as it drowns out of the bathtub quickly. Winwin breathes deeply as he puts you down to turn off both taps, and then falls back on his butt. You should say something, but instead you just start laughing softly, looking at him over the edge of the bath. “I’m done, Winwin. D’chu ... d’chu know what that means? I give up ... I really want everything to stop now.”

Your tongue doesn’t want to work with you, causing your words to come out messily. You rest your head against the cold stone as your fingers shake. You hadn’t noticed that you were too cold, until just now. “I want a drink.” You sigh, pushing your limp body up from the slippery bathtub as not-drunk as you can, and hold on desperately to the edge, only to trip while trying to get out and tumbling on the floor. “Aw.” You pout. Add another bruise to your skin.

Winwin frowns, and moves over to help you up. “You are cold. Where are the towels?” He asks, brushing your wet hair out of your face.

You take a deep breath, and cock your head in the direction. “In the closet of my parents’ room.” Winwin helps you up and nods, letting go of you when you stand stable to go look for a towel. You follow behind a bit, pausing in the kitchen against the counter. There’s an opened bottle standing at the corner, that you vaguely remember opening. Most of what happened about a half hour ago seems to blur out though.

You pick it up and press the cold glass against your lips, tossing back your head. You’re sloppy, messy, but in a way that seems strangely amusing, and when some of the drink slips down your face and neck instead of down your throat, you giggle. You can’t help it, it’s so funny. And it tickles.

Winwin comes around the corner with a towel in hand, only to stop halfway through the door when he sees you giggling to yourself in the middle of the room. He frowns, sighing deeply. You notice that he looks upset, so your smile slips off quickly. If something upset him, you don’t want to be the reason.

You lift your nose again, messily tilting back the bottle again, and feeling the cold drink slip down your throat, leaving a bitter taste on your lips. You don’t feel that drunk anymore, but your body seems desperate to prove otherwise. Winwin moves from his spot, and grabs your wrist to pull the bottle away from you. “Stop.” He mumbles, eyes flicking over your face in muted worry.

You pout up at him. His hand is warm on your skin, holding it in the air, away from you, like you’re trying to hurt the bottle. If anyone is hurting anyone, it’s the bottle you, not the other way around. When he doesn’t move, you breathe, focussing on his face for a second.

His hair falls in wet tresses over his face, covering his forehead and brows, a drop of water dangling from the single strand that falls into his eyes. You focus on his eyes, big and wide and beautifully slanted just that little bit, with long lashes that spread out over his cheeks. The same lashes that blink down at you dumbly. He’s so pretty. He really is.

A strange urge comes over you. One where you want nothing more than to hold him in your arms, and tell him how pretty he is. You pull your hand away, trying to put the bottle away, but Winwin doesn’t let you. He still has that worried look on his face, not wanting to let go of your wrist. You frown, and pull back again. “No.” He says, voice stronger than before, shaking his head in denial.

You know why he doesn’t want to let go, but it stings. Does he have that little trust in you? Of course he does, how could he not. You mess up all of the time, it’s only logical for him to anticipate and stop you before you do. You look away from him, looking instead at the obnoxious patterned carpet on the floor. You hate that carpet, the stains on it. You want to pick it up and throw it out, but your dad wouldn’t like that. “I won’t drink more.” You whisper, eyes not moving from the stitches making up the patterns.

You’re lying. You will drink more, maybe just not now.

Your friend breathes deeply for a second, before clasping his big hand around your smaller one, holding onto the brown bottle more steadily than you are. When he feels your grip slipping, he takes the bottle out of your hands all together. “No more.” He repeats, putting the drink on the counter, safely out of your reach. You watch his movements, getting a little dizzy when he moves around the small kitchen too fast to jank open the cabinets that you are too short to reach comfortably.

He takes out a glass, while you take a step to the side to lean against the fridge. With a small glance back at your movement, he fills the glass with tap water, and walks back over to you. “Drink all of that.” He says, tilting his head back in a motion that shows you how. It’s so sweet, you start laughing. Winwin seems confused at your sudden laughter burst, but doesn’t say anything. You don’t want water right now though.

“I don’t want water, Winko.” You mumble, pouting like a child. Winwin won’t give up though, pressing the glass into your hands. At the motion, you take a step back, staring blankly at the crystal in your hands. Your eyes get tired looking down like this, so you look up at the kitchen cabinets instead. You don’t want water, you don’t want the pleasant buzz in your head to die down. Really, you want it stronger.

You want it filling you up to the edge, until you can’t feel anything anymore and you end up passed out without having to cry before sleeping. You want the buzz to overtake everything. Who is Winwin to stop you? “I don’t want water.” You say, suddenly sad. Winwin, your own best friend, doesn’t even want you to be happy. You just want to be happy.

Tears well up in your eyes, ones that roll down your cheeks when you close your eyes to get away from his burning gaze. You hear a sharp intake of air, before his footsteps sound, coming closer. Your eyes flutter open again when you feel his warm hands on your arms. Winwin looks up with huge eyes, confused beyond knowledge, crouched down in front of you to watch your face. “Wh- You’re crying?” He just questions, reaching up to brush the tracks away.

Your lip wobbles, but you don’t respond. You’re pathetic. Winwin must think you’re pathetic. Instead of leaning into his comfort, you walk around him and back to the counter. You put the glass down next to the bottle, looking at it sadly. For a moment, your fingers twitch to glide around the brown glass, but you hold yourself. You want something stronger. When you turn around, you smile at your friend.

“You’ll like this, Winko.” You walk over to one of the farthest cabinets, and pull it open, bending down on your knees to rest them on the tiles. With some clumsy fidgeting, you grab hold of one of the unopened bottles of vodka, and get back up. You leaned forward more than you expect though, and smack your head into the frame. “Ow.” With a giggle, you back up more, and sit down on your butt.

You crack open the bottle way easier than you should, in your drunk state, and down a few good gulps before Winwin has scrambled up and is back over your hands. “No, no, no more. Really.” You don’t let him though, pushing him away with your shoulder. “Give it.” He grunts, reaching his obviously longer arms around you to grab at the bottle. You hold it away, spilling everywhere as you lie down on the floor, holding it as far away from his as possible.

Winwin’s one arm is squeezed under your back, the other reaching for the bottle, which means that his body lies on top of yours, his breathing heavy. When you realize how close his face is to yours, you still, suddenly not that courageous anymore. Winwin looks pissed. He is still so pretty though. You let him grab the bottle from your hand and put it aside, let him push himself up from the dirty floor to sit on his legs. His one arm is still stuck around you, so you quickly lift your back from the floor to release him, scared of angering him.

It says quiet between you two for a whole while, your back awkwardly lifted from the floor so he can move his hand, but the entire moment of silence, he just looks. From your eyes, to your neck, your hands that are littered with bruises, and then at the bottle. He sighs. Suddenly, you feel the hand wrap around your waist, to pull you up.

Winwin doesn’t say anything, he just takes a breath, and pulls you closer. This way you’re sat in between his thighs, as his hands rub up and down your arms softly. He doesn’t look at you as he warms you up, not that you need it because you’re burning from the alcohol swimming in your belly and spreading over your chest. You don’t find the strength to look away from him though. So you don’t.

“Winwin?” You whisper, only now catching his eyes as he looks up in surprise at the added closeness. You gently lift your hands to his face, resting them on both sides of his face. You don’t know what you’re doing, but it feels nice. He feels nice, under your fingertips. You take a sharp breath.  God, you’re so fucked. The only sound in the room for a moment is the blurred background noise from the music from the speakers. Then you lift your hands to brush over his cheekbones. His brows. The soft slope of his nose, bottom lip and jawline, and then his lips again. All the while, Winwin doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything.

When every dent and curve has been followed, you drop your hands in your lap, and rest your forehead on his shoulder. “Do you hate me, Win?” He doesn’t respond. You don’t expect an answer, you’ve already made one up for yourself. He hates you, and you hate yourself. One day he’ll get fed up, and leave you. And you’ll kick and scream, but when they leave, they don’t come back. People don’t stick around for messes like yourself. You’ve brought yourself here.

He’ll leave.

“Are you tired?” He asks, pulling back to look at you, face close to yours again. You just rub your eyes a second, before shaking your head. “No?”

“Not yet.” You mouth, running your hands through your wet hair to push it away your face. You scoot back a little, and push yourself up from the floor. Winwin’s eyes don’t leave your shape as you walk past the kitchen to turn around the living room. You pout a little, and look over your shoulder to catch eyes with your best friend. He pushes up from the floor slowly as well, right when you open your arms. “Dance with me.” You beg, cocking your head to the side cutely.

Winwin frowns a little skeptically, but comes to a halt in front of you like asked. He’s even taller than normal, because you’re on socks and he on shoes. You smile a little at Winwin’s confused expression, and come to stand between his feet, wrapping your arms around his chest. You’re normally nowhere near this cuddly, but you’re drunk and hazy and in awe of how much you care about your best friend. “I never got to dance with anyone I care about.” You whisper, breathing softly into his shirt, and lean into him more.

Winwin hesitates for a second, but then brings up his hand to brush your hair carefully, the other wrapping back around you and holding you close. You two sway back and forward softly to the music that comes from the bathroom. You have no clue how long you stand like that, pressed safely into his hold, listening to his heartbeat.

After a while, you sigh. “Win.” Your friend doesn’t respond, only hold you tighter and keeps swaying. With a little shove, you start giggling against his clothes, unable to break away. “Winwin.” You call again, cocking your head back. “Let go, I need to pee.”

Winwin blinks blankly and lets you step out of his arms, and over to the bathroom. After washing your hands, you also brush some water over your cheeks, which are a bright red against your paler than usual skin. You sigh at your reflection. Your mascara is smudged, the skin under your eyes purple and irritated, your clothes still pretty drenched and your blonde hair like a mop on top of your head. You would regret all of this in the morning, if you can even remember any of it. You brush your hands underneath your eyes quickly to get rid of most of the mess.

When you walk out of the bathroom, Winwin is just taking off his shoes, sat in the big couch and almost disappearing in it. He looks up with his big eyes when he spots you, taking you in too intently like usual, and then smiles. You smile back. He pushes himself up from the floor and walks over to you to back hug your smaller body, taking both hands to interlace your fingers with his. “Lets get you sleep.” He mumbles into your hair.

You don’t respond and let him lead you about the place, like he owns it. Though he’s been here many times, you doubt he’s ever seen it quite this way, this messy. And you as the biggest mess of all right in the middle of it. Your friend deposits you in front of the bed, helping you under the blankets. When he tries to walk out though, you’ve already pulled him down with you, determined to keep him close.

Winwin seems like he wants to protest, but eventually gives in, and with that comes to lay close to you, so that you can be tucked under his chin and bury your face into him. Winwin lets out a deep sigh when melting into the hold. “I’m sorry about the vodka bottle,” you suddenly say, remembering Yuta as you brush your fingertips over his clothed shoulder blade very carefully, “and about the bruise.”

“I’m happy you didn’t get hurt.”

You fall asleep soon after Winwin’s closing sentence, dreaming solidly for once of something happy. You can’t get hurt when you’re already broken, but for tonight you’ll believe that you’re healing.

<< 6 months later >>

You brush your hair behind your ear and smile, giggling softly as Winwin bumps into your side and motions you over to the table mid in front of the windows. The tall young man smiles back, and looks down at you. “It’s weird to be back for another year after three months of doing nothing. I missed it, weirdly enough. I missed you.”

You frown at that, and laugh, while plopping down on the bench and tossing your backpack next to you. “Winko, you saw me legit every day of those three months. Without fail.”

“Yeah,” he nods, settling into the seat opposite you and taking out his lunch, “but you’re a lot less annoying in public.” Your jaw drops open at that, and you kick his shin softly under the table. Winwin winces but when you try to pull back, he catches your foot between his legs and doesn’t let go, smile pulling at his cheeks.

School has been up and running for a good two weeks now, but the cafeteria has been closed under renovations, so now everything finally feels normal again. Well.

“Yo~” A voice calls, as you look back and grin, catching the two approaching figures while other people fill in around the room. A brown haired boy with gold rimmed glasses on his nose and a slightly shorter figure walking next to him with fiery red hair come to join you at the table. Mark and Donghyuck. Both first years smile brightly. Mark settles next to you, the redhead making Winwin slide over instead. Winwin lets go of your foot with a frown but does so, while Hyuck smiles proudly. The boy knows how much power he holds with his adorable face.

Mark takes the word, smiley as always. “I’m so done with school already, and we’ve barely just started.”

You giggle at that. “Mark Lee. You are one of the smartest people on this campus. I’m not letting you fail any classes, you hear? Besides, you’ve been in class for two weeks.”

Donghyuck smiles too. “Yes, mom. We’ll do our very best.”

“I know that you will, Hyuckie.” You wink, returning quickly to your food, because you’re starving. “But don’t call me mom, you punk. I will not stand for this slander.”

“Why do I have a feeling that Hyuck could call you every bad word in the book and he’d still get away with it?” A bubbly voice calls then, from beside the table, and you look over. Doyoung is walking with his backpack in one hand, two books in the other, and balances a tray on top of that all. He comes to take a seat next to Mark.

You smile at that, looking between both boys twice. “I’m not saying that he could, but that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Donghyuck giggles at that, and reaches over the table to grab a candy from Doyoung’s tray, who fusses loudly. “Hey, hey- That’s mine, you little-” Mark clasps his hand over the older’s mouth, and smiles a little guiltily.

It’s strange that you get along with Doyoung now, definitely since he’s the one who basically started everything that ruined your days all throughout first year. Somehow though, he left the frat towards the end of the year, and apologised to you. He was ‘childish and insecure’, his words, and rather made someone else feel horrible than feeling it yourself. You forgave him quite quickly, even though he didn’t ask for it. Now, he’s someone who you’ve spend the last month and a half with any time you’re not spending it with Winwin or Markhyuck.

You quickly stuff some more food into your mouth, and look up to catch eyes with the purple haired man across the table. Winwin’s hair is a darker purple now, more blue than when you first met him, already more than a year ago. You grin when he looks up, eyes narrowing. “Winwin~” You beam.

He swallows his piece of mango, and hums in response. “What’s up?”

You smile, unable to help it when a wide grin pulls on your cheeks. “I love you.” Winwin’s eyes widen, though a shy smile comes on his lips. The three others around the table start loudly groaning though.

“Ayy, don’t be like that~” Donghyuck whines, putting on a face of disgust and stuffing some food in his mouth.

Doyoung just sighs, while Mark looks between you two and squeezes the air in cringe. “Oi, oi, oi~ That’s not okay.”

Right at that moment, another person comes to join the table. Kun looks around a little confused. “What did I miss?” Kun is another exchange student, who transferred just last month.

“Winwin and Y/N are being greasy.” Hyuck sighs, crossing his hands over his chest. You can’t help but laugh brightly at that.

“I can’t help that you like me so much, Hyuckie.” You smile at your younger friend, and then reach over the table to take your boyfriend’s hand, squeezing it softly. “But Winwin owns my heart, and I have to express that every now and then.” There’s a soft glint in his dark eyes when you say that.

You pull back after another squeeze, and take a mochi to stuff it in your face. Mark hums softly, and pokes a hole in his Caprisun. “It’s weird to think you guys are dating, to be honest. You are never close like that, like others are.”

Winwin’s mouth twitches, and you have to hold your laugh at that too. You don’t know what he’s imagining, but have a clue. He giggles softly, shoulders shaking, but takes a deep breath. “We just don’t twirl around each other when you guys are around.”

“Yeah,” Doyoung takes some of your mochi’s too, “otherwise Donghyuckie’s little heart would be crushed with one kiss.”

The redhead glares at the older, and tosses something at his head. “Will you stop that?! I never said I liked Y/N, you guys are just being bullies!”

Doyoung looks almost offended at that. “You did!”

Mark nods, pointing a chopstick at his younger friend as well. “Right. First second we step foot inside school, and I quote: ‘Wow- this is so cool and big and- Oh my God, look- at- her. Let’s follow her. Mark- Mark please.’”

Hyuck’s cheeks burn bright when everyone giggles at Mark’s accurate copy. “Whatever.”

Right when Doyoung wants to dig in again, his eyes flick to the side, and he sighs. “Oh no.” You look over your shoulder, looking at a familiar dark haired man walking in your direction. He’s not dressed dark like how you remember him to for the last year of your life, which is still a little strange.

He’s about to walk past to get to a table a bit further along, but comes to a sudden halt in front of your table when he spots you. Johnny, hair now a softer brown color than his usual raven, nods with a clenched jaw. “Hey, Doyoung.”

The younger nods with a little smile. “Johnny.” That’s all he says though, before looking back at his food.

The tallest seems torn between his body which is ready to leave, and his mind. He looks down at you for a second, before looking at his feet. “Hello, Y/N.” You nod, and give him a small smile as well, before he walks away to his friends along the wall, a tiny girl jumping up around his neck and pulling him into a kiss quickly.

You breathe out deeply, and look around the table. Maybe one day you can forgive him for what has happened. For now though, you’re happy to just distract yourself by losing yourself into the people who surround you. You smile at Winwin when he catches your eyes, and wink.

[jkl-fff]

5 The Hierophant, 8 Strength, 9 The Hermit, 10 Wheel of Fortune, 12 The Hanged Man and 14 Temperance.

5 The Hierophant– I suppose the traditions with which I have the deepest connection are therather silly but fun ones that seem to be quite specific to my family. 

For example, even though “International Talk like a Pirate Day” (Sept 19th)is allegedly something celebrated around the world (it isn’t; it’s totallyparodic, but go big with your ambitions or go home, right?), I’ve never knownany group other than my family to actually dedicate a day to talking likepirates. Also, apropos of pirates, whenever someone achieves some sort ofvictory (say, when my lawyer family members win a trial, or when someone nailsa public speaking event, or when my sister-in-law sells a painting, etc.), wehoist a Jolly Roger on our flagpole.

Likewise for “Black Cat Appreciation Day” (Aug 17th), when we feedour 5 cats (all black) special wet food, make them wear little hats, and havethem dance.

And, in particular, there’s “Black and White Days” (the week of May 15th)which serves as a kind of family reunion on my mom’s side of the family (Iswear, it’s not racist! It’s a festival for Holstein cows, because she comesfrom Cache Valley in Utah, where dairy is the basis of the local economy! It’sbeen going on for literally over 100 years.). We do a barbecue and watch the town’sparade.

8 Strength – Youmean I only get *one* subject to go on about for hours?! But I could blatheraway about *so many* different things! 

Critical Literary Theories (especially those related to gender and sexuality)and how they’re based off of and apply to real life—they ain’t some “IvoryTower Academic” bullshit, but real and meaningful methods through which toexamine and freakin’ improve the world!

Story-telling and writing, including the hows and whys of various techniques toimprove a person’s competences in both! Complete with examples both classic andcontemporary, esoteric and popular, of instances where it fell flat or shoneforth!

Animation and Video Games and Graphic Storytelling, and how rich and valuablethey are as individual artforms in their own right (they’re not specific*genres*, for all 79 hells’ sake! do we consider “film” to be a specific genre?no, it’s a mean to convey different stories in different genres!)! I swear, Icould RANT FOR A SOLID WEEK about how ludicrously unfair it is that they’redisdained and belittled as “kids’ stuff” when, quite frankly, in many waysthey’re way more advanced than standard “live action” cinematography orconventional novels!

9 The Hermit – Asof right this moment, what I like best about myself is how my reflexive habitof analyzing most everything critically is making me both a smarter and a morecompassionate person. 

Like, of course, I don’t see *everything*; I miss a heckof a ton and still have more ingrained prejudices than I’d like, sometimes evenstuff that seems surprisingly obvious once pointed out to me … But what I dosee has made me more aware of the suffering of others, and more driven to begentle with them because of it. Also to dismantle the societal structures thatperpetuate needless suffering.

And when something new is brought to my attention, I try to ponder over it andbecome more educated about it. I like this trait about myself, and wish it wasmore common than it seems to be.

Also, my hair. It’s freakin’ FAAAAAB-U-LOUS!

10 Wheel of Fortune– No matter how much changes in my life, I find I can always count on myimmediate family. I’m extremely lucky in that regard.

And I can always come back to some really engaging stories, too. Final Fantasy9, 10, and Tactics, for example; Gravity Falls and Steven Universe, The LastUnicorn and ParaNorman; Terry Pratchett’s novels, Balzac, Alexandre Dumas …Those will always be there for me.

12 The Hanged Man– This one is a bit trickier to answer, because it feels like all the majorparadigm shifts in my perspective (regarding philosophy, religion, politics,social justice, and all big similar issues) happened a few years ago. Anythingsubsequent to those—anything more recent than those—feel like simply anexpansion and application of those ideas, in a way.

However, one thing that tumblr in general has helped me to learn is that fanficand fanart and fandom in general … really do exist only for the fun of thefans. Kind of an obvious realization when said out loud, right? Yet my attitudeto crossovers and self-inserts was dramatically different when I first got ontumblr several years back.

It also has helped me to nuance my understanding of queer identities andsexualities, to broaden my appreciation and acceptance of them.

14 Temperance – If we’re talkingabout me personally (meaning what *I* cannot indulge in safely), then theanswer is alcohol and other drugs, whether they be stimulants or depressants. 

Because of my Depression and my Anxiety, I’m constantly trapped in my own headand fighting not to spiral down. As a result, the idea of something that couldremove me from myself is … intriguing. Downright tempting, in fact. Like, *not*feel the heaviness or the emptiness that I do feel all too often? Or *do* feela rush of energy and elation (ecstasy, anyone? ba-dum-chee!), or a long anddreamy haze of felicity? Who wouldn’t want that?

But all of those substances are wretchedly addictive, and I’d lose myself tothem far too easily. So I can’t risk indulging in them, not even once.

In addition, I can’t really safely indulge in existentially depressing storiesfor too long at a time, or I start getting all … what’s-the-point-of-it-all angsty.Even when the stories are ones I enjoy full of comedy, albeit dark comedy, like“Bojack Horseman” or “Rick and Morty”. 

Thanks for the asks!

[albaxsutton]

I Hate Tuesdays || A Self Para

*TW: Mentions of abuse, mentions of violence

Alba decided she hated Tuesdays.

She tipped the wine bottle upside down, emptying the last few drops into her already full glass. To say that her day had gone badly was an understatement. Her day had to have been constructed specially by the universe to completely f her over. She had woken up that morning optimistic; she had a nice, long shower, her train came on time and she even managed to get a free coffee from the barista she frequently flirted with at the coffee shop a block up from the Rail.

But then she saw the dismayed looks on most of her colleagues faces. The same colleagues she had been competing with for the head writers position for the past few months. It was all friendly, of course. She only truly hated one or two people on staff and that was only because they were privileged idiots and constantly lorded it over the rest of them. The others she tolerated enough to smile and greet as she walked to her desk. Her desk, like most on their floor, was a tornado of organized chaos. Anyone would look at it once and wonder how she ever managed to get any work done. For her, she knew where everything was. She could navigate with her eyes closed and most of the time, was able to grab whatever she needed without looking away from her computer.

So, when she saw the bright, yellow sticky note taped to her computer, she frowned. ‘Come see me in my office, thanks, Xavier”. Simple and ominous. She plucked from her blank monitor and glanced around to the others, who all seemed to be trying too hard to avoid looking at her. Alba rolled her eyes and set down her coffee, purse and shrugged off her jacket before traveling the sea of desks to get to the editor’s office- which she hoped would be hers one day. It was situated on the corner of the building with windows on all sides looking out at the city. The only downside was that it had a pretty open view to the entire floor, meaning no one could pull any  while he was sitting pretty at his big, modern desk with a cup of coffee and a perpetually dissatisfied expression.

She knocked on his door and entered when she heard the gruff, “come in” from the other side. Xavier was pacing behind his desk, his blue tooth on his ear. He gestured for her to sit at one of the leather chairs in front of his desk, which she did without hesitation, watching as he ushered whomever was on the other line off the phone.

“Yeah, I got it Janine… Yep… No, we can’t do that piece next month, we had to move it to December… Look, at this point, I don’t care. Let him know we have a circulation of 500,000 issues and about a million plays to review in New York. He wants an interview? Tell him to get available.” With that, he tugged the headset from his ear and tossed it on his desk. “Swear to god, these new age playwrights get a sold out opening night and suddenly they think they’re the god damned Shakespeare of their generation. Didn’t you deal with that wannabe last year, Sutton? The Italian guy, what was his name?”

“Phil Columbo?” Alba answered, obviously amused. “Yeah, I reviewed his one-man musical about the gentrification of Brooklyn Heights. Not subpar, but not the next Jonathan Larson of Alphabet City.”

Xavier shook his head and plopped down in his large, comfortable looking chair. “Yeah, you’re gettin’ him in December. I can’t deal with divas and you seem to like em’.”

“I like talent.”

“That’s what I said, didn’t I?” he shot back offhandedly before clearing his throat and settling into his desk properly. “You do good work, Sutton.”

Alba’s brows shot up in surprise. Getting a compliment from Xavier was like getting a blessing from the Pope at the Brooklyn Rail. His word was bible. “Thank you.”

“And you’re talented. I don’t say that a lot.” Yeah, no shit. “You’re the youngest writer on my staff, you outwork most of the people who’ve been here for years and you consistently give this magazine great content.”

She should have been basking in the praise, smiling like some idiots who got a gold star in Kindergarten. But something felt off. Something about the way he said the words set up an expectation for something bad to come. “I feel a “but” coming on…”

“That’s because there is.” Xavier said, his face both remorseful and disappointed. “If it were up to me, you’d be getting that head writers position. But unfortunately, it’s not just up to me.”

It took a few moments for her to grasp the words completely. There was always a good chance that she wouldn’t get the position, she knew that. But hearing it and expecting it were two completely different things. She felt like cold water had been splashed over her body, igniting every nerve in her body and making her fully aware of just how much that single sentence hurt. “Oh…”

Xavier sighed and sat back in his seat. “I could dance around with numbers and give you some sugarcoated excuse as to why you’re not changing your title, but I know you’re too smart for that. The fact of the matter is that you’re young and you’re not as tenured. Mikey, he’s been with us 11 years. It’s a matter of who is going to get the most respect and right now, that’s not you, kid.”

She wanted to yell at him and tell him that Mikey hadn’t written a good article since the West End run of “Cats”, but she knew that would leave her without a job and possibly blackballed in the New York journalism circuit. She wanted to tell him that she could get respect from anybody she talked to because that was just the kind of person she was. Instead, she sat and listened, her eyes not really focusing on Xavier or anything for that matter.

“I don’t have these conversations often because I don’t feel like I need to explain myself, but you’re different.” He said, his lips pursed in a thin line. “You wanted it. You worked for it and I saw that. I appreciate it. It’s just…”

“Nobody respects me.” She finished for him, her tone a tad bitter.

“Nobody respects you as supervisor material.” Xavier admitted. “Not now anyway. We respect the hell out you, you know that. Now’s just… not the time for you.”

The conversation had ended after that and she dragged herself through the rest of the day with as much grace as she had mustered. But of course, life hit her. Hard. Her interview with a rising, prominent artist had been cancelled, she spilled coffee all over her new shirt and just when her incredibly shitty day had come to an end, she missed her train and had to wait an hour for the next one. By the time she got home, she was a walking ball of nerves and irritation.

She drank from her wine glass and started to settle into her couch for a night of tipsy Netflix watching and trying to forget about the incredibly terrible day she had when a knock suddenly sounded at her door. She frowned. She hadn’t texted Mari, Terry or Siobhan about not getting the promotion yet, so it wouldn’t be them and Raul would never come over without texting first. With a heavy and irritated sigh, she stood up and crossed to her door to look through the peep hole. She froze as a face she hadn’t seen in a very, very long time appeared on the other side. Without another thought she reached forward and yanked her door open to glare at her mother on the other side.

Yelena smiled at her as if they hadn’t not been in contact in over ten years. She was exactly as Alba had remembered. Beautiful, long dark hair and big brown eyes. There were a few wrinkles on her face that weren’t there before, but she looked as if she had stepped out of a page of Alba’s memory. Or a nightmare of hers.

“Alba…” She started, looking her over. “It’s been a long time.”

She wasn’t sure what to say to the woman before her. She could feel the angry glare burning on her face, a distinct feeling of rage creeping up within her that she wasn’t sure she was going to be able to hold in. “12 years.”

Yelena nodded. “Yeah… how have you been?”

Alba stared at her in disbelief. “How have I been? That’s it?” She rolled her eyes and then squeezed them shut, a headache forming at the stress of her day. “What the f- How did you find me?”

“…I hired a private investigator.” She admitted, her smile turning sheepish. “You changed your last name, so-“

“Yeah, so that you wouldn’t find me.” Alba snapped at her. 

Yelena sighed, adjusting her purse on her arm and Alba realized, suddenly, that it was designer. In fact, everything she wore was expensive, from her shoes to her coat and even her hair cut. Alba blinked at her, wondering how her mother -the woman who couldn’t hold a job to save her life- could afford those kind of things. “Alba, sweetie, I don’t want this to be antagonistic-”

“Oh wow, “antagonistic”, that’s a big word, Yelena.” She said sarcastically, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s good to see that the drinking didn’t completely destroy your brain cells.”

“I didn’t come here so that you could insult me, Alba.”

“Then why are you here?”

Yelena sighed and looked down at her hands, perfectly manicured and weathered at the same time. “I... just wanted to see you. See how you were doing.”

Alba raised an eyebrow at her, completely skeptical. “You wanted... to see me?” She scoffed and cast her eyes to the ceiling in exasperation. “Ten years and you’re still a terrible liar. You wanted to see me? Where were you when I was in the hospital for a month after you set our apartment on fire?”

Yelena cringed at the words, at least having the decency to look ashamed. “Alba...”

“Where the hell were you when I was put into foster care? Where were you at my high school graduation, or my college graduation for that matter? You know I worked three jobs to put myself through school because I had nobody and ten years later, you want to see me?” Alba didn’t realize that half way through her rant, tears had started to pool in her eyes. Not because she was sad, she would never give the woman in front of her the satisfaction, but because she was angry. “Pick another lie because I don’t buy that shit.”

Her mother sighed. “I deserve that... Believe what you want, it’s true. I’ve.. done a lot  of growing up and I just want to make amends.”

Alba, with a bored and disbelieving expression, scoffed at her words. “Cry me a river.”

“Why are you acting like I don’t know I made mistakes?” Yelena said, the words coming out quickly and with an emotion that made them waiver ever so slightly. She looked close to crying too, her eyes red and her lips forced into a thin line. “I did, Alba. I made a lot of them, most of them with you. I don’t know what you want me to say!”

“An apology would be nice.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Fuck you.”

To Alba’s surprise, Yelena gave her a sad smile in return. “Crazy thing is, you sound a lot like me.”

“No, I sound a lot like Alba.” She shot out, shaking her head. “You don’t get to take credit for anything but a strong liver, great hair and childhood trauma.” She leaned against her door and shrugged. “So last chance. You tell me why you’re really here or I slam the door in your face. Your pick.”

Yelena stared at her for a moment, looking unsure of what to say. Alba couldn’t really blame her. If she had been a bad mother, she wouldn’t be sure what to say to her kid either. The fact that she even had the gall to knock on her door would have been impressive if Alba hadn’t hated her so god damn much. She reached in her expensive purse them and pulled out a small, rectangular piece of paper and held it out for her. Alba glanced at the paper and then back at her, slowly taking it and looking it over. It was a check, one with her name and “$25,000″ in the amount line. Alba’s eyes widened as she stared at hit and she looked up at her mother in shock.

“Why the hell are you giving this to me?” She said, hastily putting it back into the woman’s hand. 

The older woman took the check back looked at it, smoothing it over with her fingers as she spoke. “I got married five years ago. He’s... a really good man. He helped me get sober, get back on my feet. He paid for the private investigator to find you. He’s... going to be running for political office soon.”

Alba raised a brow at her. “And... what the hell does that have to do with you handing me a check for $25,000?”

“...He had a lot of my criminal record sealed, including the neglect and arson charge from... that day.” Yelena explained to her, clearing her throat uncomfortably. Alba didn’t know what pissed her off more. That she wasn’t exactly the woman she was from all that time ago, or that she was trying to act like that person was long gone. “I’m his wife, we can’t have any... scandals, affecting his campaign. If anybody found out that I had a daughter that I left behind... it wouldn’t be good for him.”

It slowly pieced together. And when the puzzle was complete, Alba was filled with an anger she hadn’t felt in a very long time. The anger that only came from a frustrated kid who just wanted somebody to come and whisk her away from her horrible life. Yet no one ever came. It was an anger with her mother as the singular focus. “You’ve... got to be out of your god damned mind.”

Yelena clenched her eyes shot and cringed. “Alba, just think about-”

“Oh, I don’t have to think about anything!” She yelled, not caring if her neighbors heard her rage filled words. Yelena had the good sense to take a step back as her daughter unleashed her anger. “Do you even remember all the shit you did to me? Do you remember all the times I had to defend myself when you went on some drunken episode? I had to lie to my teachers and tell them I fell. There were times I had to stay home from school because sometimes I couldn’t hide the bruises.”

Yelena listened to her with tears in her eyes and shame on her expression, but it wasn’t enough for Alba to feel satisfied. She wanted the woman in front of her to hurt just like she did. “I think we should take this inside-”

“You’re out of your fucking mind if you think you’re stepping foot in my house.” She snapped, her words low and vicious. She scoffed lightly and shook her head. “Years of court ordered therapy by CPS and I still can’t function properly.” She sounded hysterical at this point, letting her words move out of her without thought of consequence. It was like a dam had been broken and there was no way to stop the rushing waters from flowing free. “I spent a lot of time wondering what I had done wrong. Because what kind of child couldn’t be loved by their mother?”

Yelena tried to reach forward, her hand open in a caring manner that Alba wasn’t used to. “None of that was your fault!”

Alba ripped way from her. “How the hell was I supposed to know that? I was a kid trying to raise myself. You know, because of you I’m just some hyper sexual, asshole whose walking around angry all the god damned time with absolutely no decent moral compass and a deep embedded distrust of men. Because you had guys coming in and out of our apartment and more times than not, I had to lock my bedroom door because some of them would try to get in. You took everything that was good and decent about my life and you crushed it with your bare hands.” 

They were both crying now. Yelena stood silently, tears running down her face while Alba had to catch her breath. “The only thing I hate more than you is the fact that deep, deep, deep down, I still wish we could have been different.” Yelena started to open her mouth but Alba cut her off. “And don’t you dare say that things can be different now, because I know you’re not that naive so... just go. We don’t have anything else to talk about.”

Her mother pressed the check forward again. “Alba, I know you have student loans and bills-”

“Which I will take care of, I don’t want your money and I don’t give a fuck about you or your husband, so just fucking go.” She sounded exhausted by the end of the sentence, emotionally and physically done with the small conversation. 

Yelena, stubborn as stubborn was, leaned down and placed the check on her doormat between them, putting a business card along with it. “That’s one of two. I can give you the other half when you agree not to say anything about... that.”

“Woman up and say it.” Alba spat out with a shrug. “Your incredibly shitty and abusive attempt at being a mom.”

“...If I could take back everything I did, I would.” Yelena admitted, her tone close to a whisper. “I want you to know that.”

Alba didn’t respond, just stared at her dead in the eye and glared. “Go, before I call the cops and have them wheel your unconscious body out of my hallway.”

The threat was sharp and enough to make Yelena jump slightly. She gave her one final look and turned on her heel to leave. Alba wasted no time in slamming her door shut, her vision blurred with angry tears. She managed to stomp back over to her wine, not realizing how badly her hands were shaking until she brought the glass to her lips. Everything that she had repressed and forgotten about in the ten years since she had last seen that woman rushed forward to the forefront of her mind. She was suddenly a little girl again, scared and curled up in her bed. She was that little that she thought she had grown up from. But here she was.

With an angry cry, she threw the wine glass across the room and watched it shatter against the wall, red wine splattering across her furniture and floor. Her chest heaved up and down, trying to take in air that just wouldn’t come. After awhile, her legs were unable to hold her up and she crumpled to the ground, crying and feeling sorry for herself and the girl that she was.

She really fucking hated Tuesdays.

[thoughtslikeocean]

New Orleans

June 23

-This was Rhyann’s last day with me. His flight left Phoenix at 1 PM. We spent the morning together and then I brought him to the airport. I came back home, packed, cleaned up a bit and then head out to catch my flight. Traveling was long. My flight was delayed and also I had a lay over in Las Vegas. Which feel very senseless when you’re traveling to New Orleans. Anyway, I arrive in New Orleans around midnight. Britt picks me up from the airport. Traveling is smooth because I decided I didn’t need to check a bag. I packed two and a half outfits and went on about my way.

June 24

-Britt woke up this morning to go to brunch with her friends. She invited me but I was way to exhausted to go so she let me sleep in for a little while longer. Our plan was to hangout and then meet Jarvis later which is pretty much what happened. Brittany had to bring her friend’s dog to the boarding place which was an entire event honestly. Anyway , we picked up some crawfish and po boys and then head to Jarvis new apartment. It’s super cute and in a great location. He’s spending hella money for it but its a cute little bachelor pad though. It’s nice for the season he’s in. Later on Jarvis’s friend Chad comes to join us. I’ve heard about Chad numerous and times and has talked to him over the phone but this is my first time meeting him. This dude is 45 and looks 25. Legit get like Pharell. It was astonishing to see. We all drank wine and chat for a bit before deciding to head to the roof top. There is when I noticed there was a full moon. I immediately sat down and started to pray and manifest that I have a weekend filled with divine meetings and appointments. I didn’t necessarily have a frame work of what thats supposed to look like but I knew I wanted everything to be intentional this weekend. After that, we all attempted to find a spot to eat but that fell through so Britt Jarvis and I ended up picking up insomnia and then Britt and I headed back to her place.

June 25

-For this morning the plan was to meet Jarvis, Chad and Shay for brunch. We got a bit of a late start but we ended up making it happen. We ate a spot in the French quarter called Stanley’s. Their food was pretty good and it was a cute atmosphere. Shay and the kids dipped once they were done eating and Britt needed to make it back home os she could hang out with her friends later. Me, Chad and Jarvis were left so we went somewhere else to grab a drink This is when Chad and I start hitting it off and I realize this is someone who is going to be very helpful in making sure than I am successful if I decide to set up a practice in New Orleans. It literally felt like a divine appointment. It was solicited when he asked me if I knew Dr. Turshá! I was like uhhhh yeaaaaa duhhhh!!! Apparently they went to high school together! All in all, it was an unspoken agreement that we were meant to meet at exactly this moment in time for a reason. Chad had to leave for work so I asked Jarvis to bring me by my grandparents house so I can spend a little time with them. Jarvis had a therapy appointment so I he did that while I was on Belfast and came back when it was over. Grandpa really just wanted to talk about Lazarus and all the BS but I wasn’t about to do that. I had a little liquor courage of course and I was able to just speak candidly on how I felt about the situation. I wasn’t disrespectful at all but I was really tired of him stressing over this Lazarus situation when this boy is gone be just fine. He just wants other people to stress out with him. Anyway so we leave there and head over to this place called “The Wrong Iron” to meet Greg and his friends. We get there and its such a cute backyard ducked off spot. Nice drinks and cool people. I met Kevin, Gabriel and Justin. All seemingly good people. I order a drink called Strawberry Frozé not realizing that it’s made with Rosé. I Got halfway though the glass and my stomach was hurting so bad. So we all made the move to get wings from a place that I cant figure out the name. But the wings were really good. While we were in there waiting for our food, I caught a timely video of Greg falling through a door but picking himself back up mid air. It was classic. Literally just happened to be recording at exactly the right time. We left there and Jarvis drops me off at Greg’s place. Me, Greg and Justin chill for a minute, take shots, listen to music, smoke a bit before heading back out. Arial worked today but said she would come to NO so we can hang out. So by this time she’s here and I figured I would run into her at some point. Of course once we parked and walked not even two blocks, we happen to be right around the corner from where she was already sitting down having drinks. She came with her girlfriend Payton and friend John (JT). We ate another cute outdoor place called The Yard. Took a few shots, danced and ate fried pickles. We then walk over to a place called Dragon’s Den. It was cool but it was still early in the night os still a bit slow. We left after about 10 minutes and drive to this place that we saw on the way there. It was also outside but a little more (lot more) hood. It looked like it was jumping though. So we get out and somehow just walk in without standing in the line. This tends to happen very often when I’m out with Arial lol So we waltz on in. Music is BLASTING. They playing good stuff though. We head to the bar to grab shots. Arial decides she’s gonna find some weed. Greg goes “no way you’ll be able to do that in here”. Of course she comes back within 10 minutes with weed lol Again, not surprised…it’s Arial. They smoke a bit and I dance a lot. Having a great time! We leave there after maybe an hour and decide to drive back to Dragon’s Den. A parking spot opened up for us in the strangest way. Which you know tryna park in the streets of New Orleans can be real difficult. But we didnt have any problems tonight. Everything worked out just fine. Side Note: We were freestyling in the car which is something I only ever do when im at camp with kids. I forgot how much joy

that brings hahah

So anyway we make out way back into Dragon’s Den, which is popping at this point. Good music, got some drinks in our system. Its all well. I even see Terri and a couple other people form XU in there. Arial and Payton end up dipping out at some point during that time. Eventually Greg, JT, Justin and I dip as well. We bring JT to his car and then the three off us decide we’re hungry again! We hit a place that has good fish, shrimp and grits. We were the only ones in there. It was freakin delicious. Two funny moments happened in there. 1. We were so thirsty so we asked if we could all get water. We’d been drinking all night so thats definitely what we needed. I guess the man was trying to be nice ad gave us all free sprites. You want to be grateful but at the same time we def dont need sprites. We laughed about that for like 30 minutes. Cause of course we never went back and asked for the water. 2. Three young white boys walk in. By young, I mean no more then 14 years old trying so hard to act cool. Young dude walk up to our table to tell her, unprovoked, that hes been smoking since he was 12 and some other BS that none us cared about. All three of those kids were weird. Also it was like 4 AM so who’s idea it was to take mom’s car and head out in the middle of the night I have no clue.

At any rate, we leave there and head home. It was 5 am by the time I showered and laid down. WHAT A NIGHT!

June 26

-At some point throughout the night we’d decided to do brunch this morning. I knew Justin wasn’t going to be able to make it because he said he had a funeral to attend. We woke up, sat on the porch and smoked a bit before getting dressed. It was a beautiful morning. We got dressed to a little praise through the speakers and decided on Ruby Slipper. Arial made it there first and called to let us know that the wait was 3 hours so of course thats a no. She then tells us to head to a place called Bear Cat. We didnt realize that there were two different Bear Cats so we ended up at two opposite ones. We decided that it wasn’t going to work. We missed the window of opportunity. So Greg and I put our names on the waiting list for the Bear cat we’re at and there’s a 90 minute wait. While we’re waiting we decide to kill time at this near by restaurant and get some drinks. Once we sit down there and look at the menu, we decided to order food. I ordered shrimp and grits and he chicken and waffles. Before we got our food, out waiter comes to tell us that its restaurant week and that our food is going to be 20 dollars. LIKE WHATTTTT?!?!? We ate, drank, vibes to the music and then stopped by my grandfather afterwards to say hello. Then we back to the house to chill for a minute. Jarvis came back cause I left my card with him and Justin cam back as well. We started nerding out on space/history/physics before heading out to get snowballs and zoom to the airport. I got a cotton candle snowball from plum st. Made it to the airport 30 minutes before the plan was to take off and still got a great seat. I sat next to two women who were on their way to Vegas for a girls trip. One of them had never flown before. She actually did pretty well. A few jumps and yelps but for the most part she did okay. The last sitting right next to me was very nice and passed on some words of wisdom on staying prayerful and focused. Alex picked me up from the airport and I came home only to be craving crab legs. I picked those up, came home and talk to bae while I ate them. He went to bed and I went soon after him.

[wp-yahoo-style-1042-yahoopa-blog]

Kamala Harris takes on superheroes: All the deets on her new book plus 10 more great reads for kids right now

  The best new children’s books. (Photo: Amazon)

One of the best New Year’s resolutions you can make is to read more with your children — and to encourage the ones who can read alone. Featuring ideas for babies through elementary schoolers, here are our favorite new children’s books, organized by age. All were published in the past year, and all deserve a permanent place in your family library.

Big Kid Bed by Leslie Patricelli

Big Kid Bed by Leslie Patricelli (Photo: Amazon)

Author Leslie Patricelli’s extensive series of board books for babes stars a rosy-cheeked, diaper-clad protagonist as he explores the main themes of toddler-hood—from going to the potty, to taking a tub, to snuggling with a blankie. Her latest, Big Kid Bed, has the beloved little guy making the familiar transition from a crib to a big bed. He faces the ritual with excitement, followed by a bit of trepidation, before finally settling down for a solid night’s sleep.

Shop it: Big Kid Bed by Leslie Patricelli, $8, amazon.com

Best for ages 1 to 3

My Art Book of Love by Shana Gozansky

My Art Book of Love by Shana Gozansky (Photo: Walmart)

My Art Book of Love combines two essential and mysterious concepts — art and love — into a beautiful tome that speaks to art lovers of all ages. A “gorgeous, luxurious-feeling board book ” (New York Times), it features 35 impeccably reproduced, full-page art works by the likes of Mary Cassatt,  Marc Chagall, Keith Haring and Robert Indiana that explore love in all its forms. A fantastic introduction to fine art for the next generation of art lovers.

Best for ages 2 to 5

Shop it: My Art Book of Love by Shana Gozansky, $17, walmart.com

Juno Valentine and the Magical Shoes by Eva Chen & Derek Desierto

Juno Valentine and the Magical Shoes by Eva Chen (Photo: Walmart)

Eva Chen— magazine editor, style maven, and head of fashion partnerships at Instagram— is a buzz machine. With a million Instagram followers, she had plenty of folks waiting with bated breath for her latest project, a children’s book called Juno Valentine and the Magical Shoes. Out now, this delightful  book follows a little girl as she (literally) steps into the shoes of strong, powerful icons, both historic and contemporary, from Cleopatra and Frida Kahlo to Lady Gaga and Serena Williams. Who knew the multi-talented Chen is also a natural as a kid-lit author? Well, if the shoe fits…

Best for ages 3 to 6

Shop it: Juno Valentine and the Magical Shoes by Eva Chen (author) and Derek Desierto (illustrator), $12, walmart.com 

Superheroes are Everywhere by Kamala Harris (author) and Mechal Renee Roe (illustrator)

Superheroes are Everywhere by Kamala Harris and Mechal Renee Roe (Photo: Amazon)

Kamala Harris has two books coming out this week: her memoir and a children’s book to accompany it. The Truths We Hold: An American Journey is the story of the formidable California Senator’s upbringing and an overview of her governing principles. Superheroes Are Everywhere is a colorful and lovingly illustrated picture book that teaches little ones that superheroes don’t always wear a mask and a cape. In fact, they are all around us—in the form of the friends we play with and the grown-ups who care for us and our communities. Lest anyone misses the powerful message, there is a version of Harris’s story aimed at middle readers, which is coming out later this year.

Best for ages 3-7

Shop it: Superheroes are Everywhere by Kamala Harris (author) and Mechal Renee Roe (illustrator), $13, amazon.com 

Mixed by Arree Chung

Mixed by Arree Chung (Photo: Barnes & Noble)

Once upon a time, colors lived separately: reds with reds, yellows with yellows, and blues with blues. Until one day, a yellow and a blue fell in love and decided to mix. While at first they shocked their friends and neighbors, the beautiful green they created together served as an inspiration to others. As more colors mixed and mixed and mixed, they upended the old ways of living and made a rainbow of beautiful new shades in the process. This thoroughly modern tale is beautifully illustrated, charming to read and full of deeper meaning.

Best for ages 4 to 8

Shop it: Mixed by Arree Chung, $17, barnesandnoble.com

There Are No Bears in This Bakery by Julia Sarcone-Roach

There Are No Bears in This Bakery by Julia Sarcone-Roach (Photo: Walmart)

When it comes to children’s books, stories featuring bears and baked goods are practically guaranteed to appeal to young readers. This one is no exception. Released just a few days ago, There are No Bears in This Bakery is told from the point of view of Muffin, a strong-minded — but ultimately sympathetic — cat charged with keeping bears out of the bakery. But when a sweet, hungry, big-eyed bear comes along with his tummy rumbling, she shows him some sweetness — in the form of a boxful of donuts and a shower of sprinkles.

Best for ages 4 to 8

Shop it: There Are No Bears in This Bakery by Julia Sarcone-Roach, $13, walmart.com

Ocean Meets Sky by Terry Fan & Eric Fan

Ocean Meets Sky by Terry Fan & Eric Fan (Photo: Walmart)

Thanks to its mesmerizing illustrations, this new book by brothers Terry Fan and Eric Fan would be as at home on your coffee table as on the shelves of your children’s library. Ocean Meets Sky is the story of a young boy who honors his late grandfather by building a ship to sail to the place they had always talked about — the place where the ocean meets the sky. The boy’s poignant journey sends him to magical, mythical places, while teaching him that no matter where he goes, his grandfather will always be with him.

Best for ages 4 to 8

Shop it: Ocean Meets Sky by Terry Fan & Eric Fan, $15, walmart.com 

Dog Man: Brawl of the Wild by Dav Pilkey

Dog Man: Brawl of the Wild by Dav Pilkey (Photo: Walmart)

Dog Man author Dav Pilkey, also the creator of the Captain Underpants series, always manages to embrace elementary-school humor while maintaining a smart and savvy undertone that grownups will appreciate. This highly anticipated sixth book in the ultra-popular Dog Man series has the canine hero in prison for a crime he didn’t commit. Will the pup’s pals successfully prove his innocence? Expect appearances by classic Dog Man characters, including Philly (the cheesesteak who everyone thinks is a gyro), Petey the Cat and his mini-clone (and moral conscience) Little Petey, and the F.L.E.A.S. (Fuzzy Little Evil Animal Squad), in a book that is as hilarious as the five before it.

Best for ages 7 and up

Shop it: Dog Man: Brawl of the Wild by Dav Pilkey, $10, walmart.com 

Delish: Eat Like Every Day’s the Weekend by Joanna Saltz & the editors of Delish

Delish: Eat Like Every Day’s The Weekend, by Joanna Saltz & the Editors of Delish (Photo: Walmart)

We love to see kids in the kitchen. And if there’s any book that can get them there, it’s this one. From the editors of Delish, a food lovers’ website known for its enticing imagery and viral overhead cooking videos, comes a cookbook with equally high entertainment value. The 416-page cookbook features beautiful photos and recipes with easy-to-follow instructions for dishes like Unicorn Bark, Grilled Cheese Dippers, Cheeseburger Cups, Chicken Park Soup, and other recipes kids are guaranteed to gobble up. What the recipes lack in serious foodie appeal (S’mores bake, anyone?) they make up for in calories—and fun!

Best for ages 7 and up

Shop it: Delish: Eat Like Every Day’s The Weekend by the Editors of Delish & Joanna Saltz, $18, walmart.com 

Dog Diaries by James Patterson and Steven Butler

Dog Diaries by James Patterson and Steven Butler (Photo: Walmart)

 Best for ages 7 to 10

James Patterson, already one of the bestselling authors of all time, continues to reach younger and younger audiences. With Dog Diaries, written in collaboration with children’s author Steven Butler, he introduces elementary schoolers to his popular Middle School series through the eyes of Junior, the precocious pup adopted by Middle School protagonist Rafe Khatchadorian. Kids will howl with laughter over the trials and tribulations of Junior, who, after failing obedience school, must prove his worth by winning the Best Trained Dog award at a local dog show — or face getting sent back to Hills Village Dog Shelter (also known as Pooch Prison). It’s a world where a toilets are known as Emergency Water Bowls, pooches sniff the posteriors of their counterparts for the latest news, and evil comes in the form of vacuum cleaners.

Shop it: Dog Diaries by James Patterson & Steven Butler, $12, walmart.com

Louisiana’s Way Home by Kate DiCamillo

Louisiana’s Way Home by Kate DiCamillo (Photo: Walmart)

Kate DiCamillo is one of those authors whose books librarians love to recommend — and children can’t put down. This latest novel by the Newbery Medalist is the story of 12-year-old Louisiana, an orphaned girl in the care of her grandmother. At 3 a.m. one night, Louisiana’s grandmother declares that “the day of reckoning has arrived” and they must leave immediately. They flee their home in Florida and end up in rural Georgia, where Louisiana meets and befriends a host of kind and one-of-a-kind locals. This bittersweet story has been lauded for the depth of its characters and for the way DiCamillo understands and communicates the feelings and emotions of children. 

Best for ages 10 and up

Shop it: Louisiana’s Way Home by Kate DiCamillo, $12, walmart.com 

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