#the host gave him a change to explained and corrected himself but he chosen not to

[hyohaehyuk]

gruntsandpoetry and pixielayer: Sam: "(trying to give the most PR-ish answear as possible about chemistry) "it's a team effort" Rolin: "JACOB AND SAM GO BOWLING TOGETHER" Assad: "And ice cream" Sam: "We eat a lot of ice cream and… we do a lot of sticker play…" Host: “care to elaborate on sticker play?” 🤯 Sam: "make it up" 💀

Source: Den of Geek - Will Claudia Have to Claw Her Way Back into 'Interview with the Vampire'? | SDCC

where are they sticking those stickers?

[aconstantstateofbladerunner]

Blade’s MHA Fanfiction Masterlist

Greetings friends!  This is the post listing all my past, present, and future My Hero Academia fanfictions.  Links are provided to what has been published so far.  Titles, summaries, and chapter counts are not final and will be updated as they change.  Please feel free to ask me about any and all the stories described here, not just the ones that have been published.  Thanks for reading!

(This currently version 14 of the masterlist, updated 9/9/2020)

Link to my Ao3 if you want to browse there: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aconstantstateofbladerunner/works

The Butterfly Continuity

- Butterfly - (Complete) The first over-night trip off campus since the training camp was supposed to be a fun break from more intense work back home.  But between a bleak introduction to chaos theory, a chilly reception from the locals, and the looming threat of a villain attack, Izuku has too much on his mind to properly enjoy the fresh air.  But those worries are a light breeze compared to the hurricane that accompanies what he finds on the outskirts of town.

Or rather, what finds him.

Izuku is stalked by a powerful creature who only seems to be interested in him.

32 chapters.  It’s done.  Beware major character death.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17165612/chapters/40360787

- Moth - So how does Hisashi fit into this aftermath?

11 chapters.  Outline complete.  There will be angst.

- Exit Light [hiatus] - A young Toshinori is just starting to feel truly at ease with his master and his role as her apprentice.  But uncomfortable truths come to light once a villain threatens the lives of their entire town with all-consuming darkness.  “Consuming” in this case is literal.

A prequel story that is referenced in Butterfly, but neither are required to understand the other.

4/9 chapters.  Major events outlined.  Warning for heavy violence in ch. 2.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19233598/chapters/45733516

For Izuku (Bio Dad Might AU)

- For Kurou - For their own safety, Toshinori must remove himself from the lives of his long-time partner and newborn son.  But they’re never far from his mind.  For years, not a day goes by where he doesn’t write a letter or set aside a gift for their eventual reunion.  It isn’t until he’s spent some time with his chosen successor, a young quirkless boy named Midoriya Izuku, that Toshinori’s consistent dedication to his family is interrupted.

Canon divergence fic.  Streamlined to the important stuff because there are already an abundance of fics like this and I want to focus on my original stuff.   Toshinko.  Family angst with a happy ending.

3/30 chapters.  Strap in.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22882870/chapters/54692104

- For a Wider World - Izuku hasn’t decided yet if he wants to go public with his heritage.   On the one hand, he want to make a name for himself, not just as the son of All Might.  On the other, he hates to lie and lying about One for All is hard enough.  Most of the people who know the truth will support whatever decision he makes.  Sir Nighteye isn’t one of them.

10+ chapters.  Basic outline complete.  Internship arc.

- For an End to the Pain - UA is under investigation by the Hero Commission, the world knows about the son of All Might, and the fight with Overhaul has left Izuku severe wounds both physical and mental.  As the weight of all these drastic life changes bare down on him, for the first time ever, he starts to question if he really wants to be a hero.

8-10 chapters.  Basic outline complete.  A whole new level of angst.

- Son Rise - Rumors have been circling of a secret All Might lovechild for a while now.  A new rumor says that All Might will reveal the child as his successor at the next International Heroes’ Summit in Hawaii.  The rest of the hero community has mixed feelings.  

Or, “Izuku goes to another country with his dad and has a bad time.”  Shameless excuse for me to gush about how cool Hawaii was while also hurting my boy.  Some Toshinko on the side.  Family angst with a happy ending.  

11 chapters.  Major events outlined.

Single Fic Dad Might

- Angel’s Egg - Orphaned babies showing up on the stoop of hero agencies is unfortunately not all that rare.  And egg the size of a baby is entirely unheard of. Is the child within just the result of an unusual quirk, or something of far greater, supernatural origins?

Kinda out there au where Izuku hatches from an egg and is raised by All Might.  That question is posed to me, because I’m not yet sure if I want to go down the mundane or supernatural path; I have potential endings for both. 

4/20 chapters.  Structure similar to Full Metal Jacket in that the story will shift gears completely in the second half.  Heavy violence and potential character death

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21009755/chapters/49966448

- The Wails in the Walls - Toshinori was convinced his cottage was haunted from the day he moved in.  He could easily blame the missing objects and little bites in his food on pests, but that wouldn’t explain the faint sound of crying some nights.  

Izuku is a tiny child living in Toshi’s walls who survives by ‘borrowing’ little things.  Gonna jump between angst and fluffy like a seesaw.  Idea originally by @abyssal-glory who graciously gave me permission to use it.

5/21 chapters.  Violence, reference to death, and bugs.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20392885/chapters/48368857

- Hanakotoba - Toshinori always wanted a family, but he wanted to be a hero even more.  He figured the family thing would happen naturally, but as the years go by and it doesn’t, he finds himself sinking further and further into longing.  And then he finds the end of his sorrows in his own garden.

Princess Kaguya au prompted by @agent-jaselin.  This one is for sure supernatural.

18 chapters.  Outline complete.  One scene of attempted sexual assault.

- Son of the Sun - Of all the gods, the Sun is the most generous with its gifts

Fantasy au where Izuku is the only child of the legendary son god Toshinori, and gets swept up in the apocalyptic destruction caused by a few other gods’ petty disagreements.

Outline incomplete, no chapter estimate.  This is the new roadtrip au.

Miscellaneous Multi-Chapter

- All but One - Toshinori is given the opportunity to undo over two decades of suffering by going back in time and ending All For One.  And that’s just the beginning.  He goes on to use his knowledge of the future to correct errors of the past, and makes his new reality infinitely better than the one he came from.  Better in every way but one.

Used to be a oneshot, now multi-chapter.  Open to making it an au but not sure yet.  Based on a bittersweet post by @skygemspeaks

10/18 chapters.  This was supposed to be short.  Warning for some violence.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18796387/chapters/44597800

- The Necromancer - An unseen villain sets hoards of undead upon Japan.  As a designated disaster-relief shelter and a small fortress in its own right, UA becomes host to both the heroes working to stop the onslaught, and several hundred terrified civilians.  Supplies and space shrink with each passing day, and it seems like the end to the nightmare is nowhere in sight.  Someone is bound to take matters into their own hands.

Zombie Apocalypse AU.  Most of the kids stay within the walls to care for panicking civilians, while the heroes take the fight to the outside.  At first.

10+ chapters.  Some events planned. 

- Habitus - Tragedy forces Izuku back into the custody of his father, who he hasn’t seen in years and has a new family of his own.  They uproot him from UA, separate him from his friends, and, worst of all, expect him to be happy about it.

Formerly called Where the Heart is.  Izuku’s step family from America claims custody of him after Inko passes away, and are less than sympathetic to his situation.  He rebels in every way he can, meanwhile All Might and the other teachers comb for any legal loopholes to get him back.

Less than 10 chapters.  Outlined.

Oneshots

- Spiked - There’s no such thing as a free meal.

Gore headcanon request that got out of hand.  Please read the tags.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20062174

- The Road that went Forever - Izuku’s Papa picked him up from kindergarten that day.  He hadn’t done that in a while.

Usually, I write Hisashi as a normal, emotionally distant father.  This is not one of those stories.  A very sad two-shot.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21754498/chapters/51902485

And that’s all for now!  Again, please feel free to ask me about any of these ideas! 

[cilldaracailin]

A Kind Of Magic

Here is the next part :) 

9

“Encourage, lift and strengthen one another. For the positive energy spread to one will be felt by us all. For we are connected, one and all.”

Taron woke up cosy, the duvet pulled right up to his chin as he lay on his right side.

“Ugh ow.” He groaned. Sleeping on his right side was uncomfortable and painful on his sore arm and ribs and he had been avoiding it, mostly choosing to lay on his back, or left side. He slowly rolled to his back, cringing as he did so, feeling an unpleasant sensation of prickling torment for a few seconds, until his body settled. He looked to his left to see it was just him in the bed, Robyn’s chosen side empty, the duvet neatly pulled up to the pillow. He figured she was the reason he felt so warm and snug under the duvet but he was bothered by the fact that she wasn’t there sleeping. Taron knew without a doubt that Robyn was running on fumes and although she had willingly allowed him in emotionally, he wished he could help her rest and actually sleep.

He reached over to the bedside locker and picked up his phone. Blinking at the bright light as he unlocked the screen checking the time and the day more importantly. He didn’t want to see that he had slept another full day.

“Saturday.” He sighed a relief and even more so when he saw it was actually early morning. Just before ten but frowned when he saw another missed call from Richard. He had completely forgotten to call him back yesterday but he knew Richard would understand when he phoned him and explained why.

As tempting at it was to roll over and snuggle back into the pillow, Taron drew back the duvet cover enjoying the fresh air that the air conditioning circulated around the room and eased himself out of the bed. He didn’t feel as stiff as he did yesterday but was quite tender and sensitive from laying on his hurt side during the night.

He stood up carefully and wandered out in search of Robyn and found her standing at the island in her kitchen, cutting some fruit on a chopping board.

“Good morning.” She said brightly as he sleepily walked in to kitchen.

Robyn was quickly adding a new Taron to her mind as this half awake, messy haired Taron was definitely her favourite yet and she was trying very hard to use this new image of Taron to replace the ones that plagued her dreams last night. His mam had made an appearance too, throwing picture after picture of her son at her, telling her she had killed her child. Robyn had woken up startled at one am, after four hours sleep and just lay in the bed, again watching Taron as he slept. She got up from the bed around four and cleaned her apartment from top to bottom, including the bathroom. At nine she had a quick shower, plaited her hair in two French braids and threw on another pair of demin shorts, a Hawaiian patterned string top along with her blue converse. She opened the doors of the apartment letting the beautiful morning air and sunshine in and had set the garden up for the day pulling out two sun loungers from the garden shed, putting the cushions on the chair swing and plugging in the small water fountain too. She then started her usual weekend morning breakfast routine of making waffles, while listening to music. She was in the middle of cutting up the fruit to go with the waffles when Taron walked into the kitchen.

“Mornin’.” He replied as he stopped and gave her a hug from behind, placing a kiss on her cheek, before moving to lean against the sink.

“Sleep well?” She asked him, hoping he didn’t see the easy blush that rose to her cheeks from his little kiss. She adored how easy Taron was with his affection.

“Yeah. That bed is magnificent. Don’t think I beat my record though.”

“No but close to it. Eleven hours.”

“And how many did you get?” He asked

“A few.” She replied.

“A few?” He probed as he moved to stand beside her. “How many qualifies as a few?”

“Four?” She answered honestly.

“Nightmares?”

“Staring your lovely mam this time.” Robyn knew she couldn’t lie to Taron. He would see through her in an instant.

“Jesus Robyn. My mam?”

She stopped cutting the strawberries and turned to him. “I know your mam would never do what she did in my dream and if it makes it any better, it was four hours uninterrupted. That hasn’t happened for me in a while.”

Taron sighed. He felt guilty for sleeping so soundly when his host struggled so much. “What did you do once you woke?”

Robyn put the strawberries she had cut in a bowl and moved onto the mango beside her. “I cleaned the apartment.”

“Not for my benefit I hope.” He said quickly.

“No, just my usual Saturday clean. I want to get back into some sort a routine like I had before I moved to Florida even with you here and you are not in my way and you are not imposing on me Taron.” She said knowing he was going to apologise for turning up unannounced. “I enjoy having the company and you know I am very glad you are here.”

Taron stole a piece of strawberry from the bowl and skipped around the island as she went to tap his hand away. “I need to take my pain killers with food. What are you making?” He asked picking up his bottles of pain killers, knowing he had to take them twice a day, morning and evening.

“Waffles.” Answered Robyn as she cut around the stone in the mango.

“Waffles?” He stopped and looked at her. “Seriously?”

“It actually is my normal Saturday breakfast. It is not because you are here. I mix it up between waffles and pancakes every weekend. I just fancied waffles this morning.”

“Let me guess, you have a waffle maker.” Taron left his tablets on the counter and walked around to get a glass from the press he knew they were in and filled it with water from the fridge.

“It was actually a present from my friend Claire. I didn’t buy it myself. It is not something I would ever buy for myself but seeing as how I have it, I make use of it, only on the weekends though.”

“Waffles for breakfast and key lime pie for tea last night.” Grinned Taron as he took his painkillers, but Robyn saw his face change once he drank the rest of the water. “My trainer is going to have some job to get me back in shape when I am back filming but not because of you Robyn. I don’t mean it like that.” Taron quickly corrected himself. “I mean because I can’t train or move much. I am going to be such a pudding by the time I am back ready to film.”

“Don’t even Taron.” Said Robyn and Taron was taken back by the annoyance in her voice and looked at her to see a serious look of irritation on her face. “Don’t talk about yourself like that.” She stopped slicing the mango and put down the knife. “No one should talk about themselves like that. This is why I like working with children. They don’t judge. They just see you for who you are and don’t care about what you look like. I wish the world could be seen through the eyes of a child.” Robyn walked around to stand beside Taron. “I thought you didn’t care about that Hollywood shit.”

“Well I don’t but…”

“Exactly but it gets to you and I know it gets to you but it shouldn’t. Want my honest truth?” Taron nodded. He very much valued Robyn’s opinion and words. “As a woman, if I had a choice between Eggsy and Eddie, I would choose Eddie.”

“Really?” He questioned.

“Yes really. I, as a fan of your work, watched interviews of your time of promoting Eddie the Eagle.” Robyn pointed to herself. “Huge Hugh Jackman fan. Anyway, I could easily see how uncomfortable you were every time someone mentioned your physical transformation and it shouldn’t even have been a question asked or commented on. Same for your portrayal as Elton too. It shouldn’t matter and as someone who has struggled with their own body confidence, I know how it feels. Nobody should be judged by how they look but because the world we live in, is one of a shallow photoshop society where magazines and television decide and depict how a man or woman should look, it makes those of us who don’t fit that certain look feel worthless and unattractive. I would choose Eddie over Eggsy any day because that is what is real. I don’t want you thinking that you can’t have something sweet because it will turn you into a so-called pudding. I happen to like pudding and thinking about shit like that fucks with your mind and brings you spiralling down a horrible rabbit hole. You are perfect, whether you are a pudding or a rice cake.”

“A rice cake?” Taron looked at Robyn titling his head.

“It’s the first thing that came to my mind that could compare to pudding but seriously Taron. Don’t starve yourself from something you want because of what is going to happen two months or so down the line. Shouldn’t what happened to us last week, make us even more aware that life is short and we should eat the God damn pudding. This is why I hate the pressure of having to look a certain way, or being judged for how you look because it…”

“Is what inside that counts.” Finished Taron.

“Yes it bloody is and it makes me angry to hear you talk like that. You are beautiful Taron inside and out.”

“Just like you.” Confirmed Taron. “Yes you.” He repeated when he saw that same doubt in Robyn’s eyes that he had felt in his less than two minutes ago. “I wouldn’t have said it in your office if I didn’t believe it and you cannot lecture me on my body confidence and not let me return the favour.”

“Thank you. It has taken me a long time to be comfortable in my own skin but I won’t listen to you bring yourself down like that. Nothing wrong with a little bit of pudding Taron. I told you I preferred Eddie and you are in an Irish house and Irish people feed their guests so I won’t hear you say it again and you will eat everything that is put in front of you and there is nothing stopping us from taking small walks every day and it will help to build your strength back up and the baking has really only been happening because I can’t sleep. I am actually really good during the week. I would go for an hour walk every day after work and I rarely get take out and normally cook nice healthy things and…”

Taron threw his arms around Robyn, stopping her mid-sentence pulling her close for another one of their hugs that said so much without using any words. “Thank you.” He said simply. Taron felt a sudden surge of self-confidence and assurance that he hadn’t felt in a long time and he was completely touched by Robyn’s words and the fact the she noticed how uncomfortable he was when others hadn’t. It was so refreshing to hear Robyn speak so positive about what he considered his faults and he very much appreciated her encouraging words.  “And thanks for putting the knife down before you scolded me. I thought you were going to stab me there for a minute.”

“Well I might still do if you talk about yourself like that again.”

“Luckily you can patch me back up too afterwards.”

Laughter filled the kitchen as they broke the hug. “So, waffles?” Asked Robyn.

“Waffles.” Agreed Taron.

“They come with fruit too.” She said as she walked back around to where she had been chopping the fruit.

“I am just going to have a quick shower and change. Looks like another beautiful day out there.”

“Yeah it’s going to be a scorcher. Figured we could just sit in the garden and listen to music and not do much else.”

“Yes please.”

“Go shower. I shall continue waffling.”

Taron headed back to the bedroom and pulled the duvet up the bed up so it was fully made. He went into the closet and carefully lifted his bag into the bed, straining with the effort and routed through for his wash bag. Grabbing it, he walked into the bathroom and after he had closed the door, saw that Robyn had replaced the towels he had used the day before with fresh red ones. He was actually surprised with the colour of the towels considering Robyn’s apartment was filled with cool blue tones but when he felt the softness of the towel, he knew why she had bought the red ones.

He enjoyed the rainfall shower just as much the second time but didn’t take as long as his muscles weren’t as tense as before. Looking in the mirror he saw something in his face he hadn’t seen for a long time and it was a brightness in his eyes and an almost need to constantly smile and he enjoyed feeling like that again. Routing through his wash bag, he pulled out his razor and made quick work of shaving off his seven-day beard, feeling fresher afterwards. He had to take extra care on the right side of his face but managed to get a clean shave that he was happy with. Running his hands through his damp hair, he walked back into Robyn’s room and changed into a pair of white shorts and a blue flower print t-shirt, just buttoning the bottom two buttons. Not bothering with shoes again, Taron walked back into the kitchen to see Robyn whisking some batter in a bowl with a whisk by hand.

“Need any help?” He asked.

“I am all good.” Replied Robyn and she turned to look at him. “Hey you shaved and you stole my outfit choice.”

Robyn stood with her right hand on her hip and stared at Taron. He looked like he had gotten a new lease of life after his time in the bathroom. His eyes shone with happiness that she had never seen in person before and although his clean-shaven profile highlighted the bruising on his face more, he looked so much more content in himself.

“I stole your outfit choice?” He asked puzzled.

“Yeah, I was dressed before you so I get to rock the Hawaiian vibe.”

Taron then realised what she meant, looking to her patterned top, then to his and grinned. “The print is different though.”

“I like print on you.” Robyn tuned back to whisking the batter in her glass bowl. “It really suits you but you still stole my style for the day.”

Taron laughed. He loved it when Robyn was in this wonderful giddy mood and it made her whole face light up when she laughed with him. “I am sure I can do something to help you.” He insisted.

“In the press to your left, under the hob is the waffle maker. You can take it out for me and plug it on the hob.”

Taron set up the red waffle maker as Robyn had asked. “Does it annoy you that this is red and does not match any of the décor of your home?”

“Dear God yes and that is why Claire bought it for me because she knew it would bug the hell out of me.” Robyn moved the bowl of batter over to where Taron was standing. “But it makes good waffles.” She pulled a ladle from the jar behind the hob and waited for the light to turn green.

“How many piercings do you have?”

“What?”

“I never noticed all the earrings that you had before.”

Robyn turned to him as he leant against the sink. “Yeah I went through a phase in my twenties where I got one new piercing a year. I have ten, waiting to get my eleventh and because my hair is tied back, they are more obvious plus I wear the tiniest studs.”

“Can you have that many working with children? Wouldn’t they pull them out?”

“Actually no. It’s not something that is an issue, not where I work anyway and mine are quite reserved and small studs. The kids like to count them and four are stars so I mean, I am teaching them shapes through my earrings.”

“Which one is your favourite and which one hurt the most.” He asked taking a closer look at her right ear which had the most, small crystal studs in unusual places on her ear.

“My third lobes hurt the most and my favourite is a toss up between the tragus and rook.” Robyn pointed at the piercings as she named them. “They just stay in all the time. I never take them out and I rarely change the actual jewellery. Once they are in, they are in.”

“I have one.” Taron touched his right ear where his empty piercing was. “Just one but it was for my role as Elton. I only put it back in when I was going to Florida. I haven’t been wearing it because of Kingsman. Actually, Doctor Hart had to get the nurse to take it out before the CT scan. She gave it to Richard to mind for me and I just haven’t put it back in yet. I don’t even know where it is.”

“Well if you want a replacement, I have plenty of spares.” The light on the waffle machine turned green and beeped. Robyn turned around and lifted the lid. She poured a ladle of batter into each section and closed the lid. “I have already set the table up outside for us if that’s ok.”

“Yep sounds good.”

“Do you want some tea again or I have some juice in the fridge or I could pull out the coffee maker. I have one, just don’t use it very often.”

“I am going to stick with juice I think.” Taron walked to the fridge and pulled the door open. “Ok so pineapple, orange or tropical?” He asked.

“I like to mix orange and pineapple together.”

“Excellent.” Taron grabbed the two cartons of juice and took them from the door and placed them on the island behind him. He then got two glasses and filled both with half pineapple and half orange, while Robyn pulled two plates out and dished two waffles onto each, making sure she plugged out the waffle maker when she was done.

Taron carried the glasses and Robyn the plates and together they walked out to the garden to the table where they had their eggs the previous night.  Robyn had remembered the cutlery this time and she had a large bowl filled with fruit and some American pancake syrup on the table. “Breakfast of champions.” Smiled Taron as he sat down on the same chair he had been in the night before, Robyn sitting next to him. “You really do this every weekend?” He asked as Robyn handed him the bowl of fruit, a mix of strawberries, mango, raspberries and blueberries that looked very inviting and colourful.

“Yep. Sometimes Claire comes over too but it’s more like a brunch with her rather than a breakfast and we add eggs, sausages and rashers too and if I have any potatoes left over from Fridays dinner, we would chop them up and toss them in as well.”

Taron could hear his stomach rumbling as he spooned some fruit onto his plate. “Sounds like my kind of brunch.”

“There is this little restaurant here that does this amazing breakfast. I will bring you just so can you taste this dish they make called hash – poaches eggs, potatoes, caramelised onion, rashers and hollandaise.”

“Stop it.” Taron paused mid pour of some syrup on the waffles.

“It’s so good.”

“This is so good. Thanks Robyn.” He handed her the bottle of syrup.

“I was making it anyway so it’s just as easy to make for two.”

“Robyn I know I have said it before but you just make me feel so relaxed and calm and I don’t think you actually understand apart from being at home, how hard it is for me to find a place that does that, especially after what happened in the 7/11.”

“You are always welcome here Taron. When you need a break, just call me. Remember how you said I was kind of stuck in your world?” Taron nodded as he chewed. “Well you are very quickly sticking to mine too.”

“Hey, if your world always comes with waffles for breakfast, I am there.”

A natural comfortable silence found the two as they ate their breakfast, the music filtering out to the garden from the sitting room, both enjoying the peace of the morning around them.

“When we are finished breakfast, would you mind putting the small dressing on my shoulder?” Asked Robyn as she sat back in her chair with her glass. “I didn’t do it myself this morning because I knew you had offered to help me.”

“Of course I will.” Taron was about to ask Robyn if she would help him when another voice interrupted him.

“Robyn? Robyn are you up? I can hear the music from the front door.”

Robyn almost dropped her glass, coughing as her drink went down the wrong way, wiping her mouth as juice dribbled down her chin, Taron taking her glass from her hand before it fell onto the deck.

“Robyn, you ok?” He asked as he gentled patted her back.

“Ugh shit. Yes I am but shit. I am just going to say sorry now ok?”

Taron frowned. “Sorry for what?”

“Ahh Robyn! There you are. I figured you would be up but I am surprised you are not sunning yourself already. It’s such a beautiful… Oh who is this?”

Taron watched as Robyn’s hands went to her face, a look of pure embarrassment filling her pretty features.

“Hi mam.”

Robyn got up from her chair to stand, Taron’s hand falling from her back as she moved to greet the lady who had just walked into her back garden. She was slightly shorter than Robyn, with short dark blonde hair, wearing shorts and a white pattern t-shirt with palm leaves on it.

“Hey Robyn.” Robyn’s mam walked over to the table where Taron and her were enjoying their breakfast. “I didn’t realise you had a visitor, a male visitor.” She added, Robyn immediately rolling her eyes to her mother.

“Mam, this is Taron.” Robyn turned to look him, giving him what he hoped was a very apologetic look. “Taron, this is Lizzie, my mother.”

Taron got to his feet to greet Robyn’s mam wincing as he stood, his right side still feeing raw after laying on it all night, his left hand going to his ribs. Robyn noticed the expression of pain on his face and moved closer to him, her hand on his shoulder “Go slow. You’re still hurt.”

He nodded to her and then moved the few steps to greet their visitor. “It is so lovely to meet you Lizzie.” Taron could see the shock on Lizzie’s face as she realised who he was, her blue eyes staring at him, the same shape and colour as Robyn’s.

“Taron as in Robyn’s Taron from the store in Florida?”

He smirked “Yeah I guess you could call me Robyn’s Taron.”

Robyn nearly fell to wooden deck with embarrassment as her mam finally put two and two together and grasped who Taron was.

“I usually just go by Taron though.” He added, taking a look to Robyn who was sitting on the arm rest of the chair looking absolutely mortified, finally shaking Lizzie’s hand.

“Ah wow, hi. It’s nice to meet you too.” Lizzie shook Taron’s hand, taking a look to her daughter. “You didn’t tell me Taron came to see you.”

“Guess it slipped my mind.” Replied Robyn.

“Slipped your mind?”

“Yeah, just slipped.”

Lizzie gave her daughter a very disapproving look, one that Taron saw clearly. “Well I am very glad to meet you Taron, especially after what you and Robyn have been through. Such a frightening experience for you both.”

Taron moved back so he stood beside Robyn on her left and took her hand in his. “Yes, it was but having Robyn there made it much easier for me.” He gave her hand a gently pat. “I kind of turned up unexpected and Robyn has been nothing but a gracious host.” Taron looked to Lizzie. “It’s thanks to your daughter that I am standing here. She is a truly remarkable woman and I am very blessed that she was willing to help a complete stranger.”

“She has her moments.” Smiled Lizzie, watching he held tightly onto Robyn’s hand. She thought her daughter looked tired until she took in the appearance of the man who stood beside her. Painful looking bruises and grazes spoilt his handsome face, stitches were visible on his right arm and with the few buttons open at the top of his shirt, Lizzie could clearly see where her daughter had performed the lifesaving actions that meant he was standing in front of her but more than that, she could see the connection the two had, how they were turned to each other probably without even knowing they were doing so.

Lizzie was extremely proud of her daughter if not a little angry at her for leaving Florida so quickly. She had told Robyn she should have stayed until Taron woke up, that what had happened between the two of them was so much more important than her job but Robyn being Robyn, ignored her emotions and went head first back into work.

She was stunned to see the man whose Robyn spoke so fondly of now sitting in her daughters back garden, eating breakfast with her. However, she was also glad in a way as she saw how distant Robyn had been since she got home and was very worried about how she was reacting to what had happened to her, in that she wasn’t at all, keeping her feelings to herself. It concerned Lizzie knowing that even as her mother she couldn’t help her daughter and she had no idea of the trauma that she had been through, so seeing Taron in front her gave her some hope that he might be able to break through the thick barriers that her daughter had built. She could see that maybe already he had done so as he held Robyn’s hand in hers. “My Robyn tends to get stuck in when she needs to. Gets in her trouble sometimes too but she always has everyone’s best interest at heart.”

Taron agreed. “Yes she does and I know I am very grateful for it.”

“So how long have you come to stay for?” Asked Lizzie but seeing the look exchanged between Robyn and Taron, knew that conversation hadn’t happened yet.

“Taron knows he is welcome to stay for as long as he would like.” Robyn gave his hand a little squeeze.

“I haven’t actually thought that far to be honest.” Answered Taron. “But if Robyn is happy to let me stay for as long as I like and keeps feeding me waffles for breakfast, I might not leave.”

“Right it’s porridge and water from now on!” Laughed Robyn, enjoying how Taron chuckled along with her.

“What is your shift next week Robyn?” Asked Lizzie.

“I am opening again. The new girl is on the early shift so Emma wants me there to help train her in and get used to opening the creche.”

“Great. You and Taron must come over for dinner then next week then.”

“Wait what?” Robyn looked to her mam.

“Yes yes. I want both of you over for dinner next week. The weather is supposed to stay like this until the middle of next week so let’s say Tuesday? Your dad will be thrilled to start up the BBQ.”

“Mam I think Taron would like to use this time to rest and relax after what happened and not sit through an interrogation of questions.”

“Actually…” Started Taron looking to Robyn. “I would love to have dinner with your family. I know how much your family means to you and you know how much mine means to me, so if we could, I would very much like to get to know yours.”

Robyn could see the genuine look of interest in his eyes and turned back to her mam. “What time?”

“Say seven? It will give you time to get home and ready to come over and we won’t ask too many questions Robyn. We will limit it to ten each.”

“Oh dear God.” Sighed Robyn, Taron and Lizzie both laughing at her reaction.

“Ok great. Your dad will be delighted. Now I shall leave you to your breakfast. It was lovely meeting you Taron.”

“You too Lizzie.”

“Robyn come and hug your mother.”

Robyn let go of Taron’s hand and gave her mam a hug. “He’s cute.” She whispered into her daughters’ ear. “And you’re doing a very wonderful thing looking after him. He looks like he needs it.” Robyn gave her a mam an extra squeeze.

“Taron, you too love.” Robyn moved back and let Taron take her place, Lizzie being extra careful as she hugged him. “Look after my daughter for me.” She felt Taron give the slightest of nods before she let him go. “Right well, if you need anything you know where I am Robyn.”

“Thanks mam.”

Lizzie left the way she came with a wave, Robyn sitting on the arm of her chair again, while Taron stood in front of her.

“I like your mam. She’s very like you and parents were made to embarrass their children. I think it’s just natural law.”

“I am so sorry she just invited us to dinner like that. You did not have to feel obliged to go.”

“I don’t feel obliged. I want to go. I would really like to get to know your family better Robyn and also, thank you for saying I can stay for as long as I would like.”

“I just hope you know what you have walked yourself into and don’t look to me for help when the questions get awkward and you are welcome.” Robyn stood up. “Let’s get this cleaned up and then I am claiming a sun lounger for the rest of the day.”

[alarawriting]

Inktober #8: Frail

This was delayed a day because it’s longer than any of the others. Relates to my WIP “No Drama”, aka “Q is an investigative journalist researching whether God is a corrupt politician of his people”. 

So the first thing I need to explain before I tell you about meeting Heph is his name.

Humans call me John Deer (it’s a joke. Their name for a man who has no name is John Doe, but a doe is a female deer. I don’t technically have one of their genders, strictly speaking, and if you go by the body I’m in, it’s not female, so I thought I’d go by John Deer. Turns out the joke’s on me; add a silent e to the name and it’s a company that makes tractors. Go figure.)  However, as I hope would be obvious, that’s not my real name. The Aleph don’t have physical bodies and aren’t made of matter and the pure information we are made of doesn’t translate to syllables you or anything that makes sound can pronounce. If I were to translate my name, it would be impossibly long to convey in words; an Aleph’s name is, essentially, a hash function of our personality, the defining nature of our being. I’m not going to stand here and recite my entire personality to you, or anyone else’s entire personality, either, and don’t expect any other Aleph to do so.

So when we walk among pre-eschatonic species, we generally go by the names of gods in their language, or animals of symbolic value (which on most planets, for many groups on that planet, are indistinguishable from gods), or Virtue Names like “Patience” (that one is definitely not mine). And then, when we speak to one another with our meat mouths because we’re in meat bodies, we use those names, the use-names specific for that planet, that culture, that language. On Earth, in English-speaking languages (as well as a significant number of the other ones), I’m known to other Aleph as Fox, Ferret or Weasel, depending on their current opinion of me. My opponent goes by the Lion, or the Ape. But Heph doesn’t use animal names; for the past several hundred years, when he walked on this planet, he called himself Hephaestus. The Greek God of engineering, smithing and invention – technology, in other words – who also happened to be crippled. I think it would be hard to find a myth better suited to be Heph’s use-name.

You see, Heph was born damaged. (We aren’t “born” like you’re born, messy screaming infants coming out of a parent’s orifices. A seed is woven by an entire team of Aleph who’ve chosen to procreate and gotten permission to do so, and then that seed grows fractally. So we are a little less random than spinning the Wheel of Sperm and Ova like you guys do… but not much less random.) By the time he was grown enough that anyone was able to notice the damage, it was too late to correct him without making major changes to his essence, and most Aleph would have to be dying before they’d consent to that (if then. Personally I’d rather die.) It’s hard to explain what the problem is to a non-Aleph, so I need to draw an analogy. In essence… his bandwidth is too low. He cannot quickly upload anything to the Host, and he doesn’t have the storage capacity for the energy we draw down to do our reality-altering things. Where the rest of us are gods, Heph is barely a guardian spirit.

Back when we were both living in the Host most of the time, I am… ashamed to admit that I overlooked Heph, the way almost all the Aleph do. He can’t join with one of us – well, he can, but it’s shallow because of his low bandwidth. Not to be crude about it but it’s as if one of your males was trying to make love to a woman with the vaginal depth of a tea saucer. It… doesn’t do a lot for most Aleph. He can’t participate in most of the things we do because he can’t store enough energy to do it. So he isolates himself from us, and we let him do it because we’re all kind of at a loss as to how you include a guy who can’t do 90% of what you take for granted.

Heph, however, is very smart. All Aleph are by human standards, but Heph is by our standards. So he found a way around the problem.

When I met him on Earth, I was dying in a gutter. I’d been sentenced to a decade of being locked down to a single mortal body, and since I’d been on Earth when they grabbed me and put me on trial, it was Earth they sent me back to. Specifically, Victorian England. Naked, and with no money. Or antibodies. I ended up in a workhouse, where as you can imagine I did fantastically well since I’ve always been so eager to do pointless busywork and follow orders. The main punishment for disobedience was not being fed, followed by being held in a cell for a day and then given clothes that were supposed to shame you. I had no sense of shame, but I got a lot less food than the body I was in needed, and I was surrounded by people who were not in the best health. When I couldn’t work anymore and I was delirious with fever, they threw me out to be picked up with the rest of the refuse, assuming I’d be dead by morning.

Heph was on Earth too. He tracked me down, using technology he’d created. That’s Heph’s thing. He creates technology to compensate for his weaknesses. We have safeguards against anyone or anything but a recognized member of the Host drawing on power, so his tech can’t do all the shiny things a full-powered Aleph can, but we have plenty of access protocols to reach the database of knowledge. So he was able to find me. No Aleph was supposed to render me aid, but Heph was not afraid of pulling the cripple card to get away with doing anything he’d been forbidden to do that he nonetheless decided was the right thing to do. He may be one of the smartest of us, but most Aleph treat him as if he’s not particularly bright, just because he can’t output his thoughts as fast as the rest of us, or fork himself and multi-process. And he made sure not to give me any aid that only an Aleph would be capable of. He fed me bread mold, a powerful antibiotic – you know it as penicillin – that humans happened to not have discovered yet, and pumped sugar, water and saline solution directly into my veins with a sterile glass tube ending in a needle, which humans would later refer to as an IV once they’d invented it. It was all with materials that could be found on Earth, that humans could have discovered (and in fact did, later on.)

I didn’t know my sentence was for a decade. Nobody had told me there was a time limit. I thought they’d left me on Earth to die. Heph restored meaning to my life. The Host as a whole may have abandoned me, but one specific Aleph still cared, and went well out of his way to take care of me. Heph’s not known for being a fluffy, love and compassion kind of guy; he’s cold, aloof, introverted, with difficulty outputting his emotions in a format most Aleph can read, and his shallow bandwidth means that if an Aleph tried to probe him directly, it would cause him a lot of pain. Which, since we are a compassionate species, meant no one was allowed to probe him without his permission. Which he never gave.

In those days, Heph had been tall and broad-shouldered, still going with the whole blacksmith motif. He was never ripped like a bodybuilder, but his upper body had some substantial muscle to it. He’d affected black curly hair and bronze skin like the Greeks he’d named himself for. And he’d worn thick spectacles and walked with a cane. I’m not sure whether he does it on purpose or whether it’s a subconscious compulsion, but every body Heph creates for himself in matter has damage to mobility and damage to perception, representing what he suffers in his true form. I tend to think Heph identifies so strongly with being disabled, he can’t imagine having a form that isn’t.

Ten years before I’d even learned the sentence was finite. Heph had known, but hadn’t been allowed to tell me – and while obviously he thought he could get away with saving my life and being my companion and showing me how to survive as a human, equally obviously he didn’t want to disobey the Host in the matter of telling me my sentence. Their logic was that it was hardly an aspect of being mortal to know for a fact that if you just survive long enough you’ll get your immortality back. The truth was, of course, the Lion had had the judges in his pocket. We hated each other even then; that’s why I started investigating him. He had them do it to be pointlessly cruel, and they came up with a rationalization to the rest of the Host. Well, in those ten years, Heph became my best friend. Raven and Cat and Monkey, my other close friends, hadn’t come to visit. Even Isis, who treated me like I was her little brother and used to watch out for me when we were millions of years younger, left me there. Heph was the only Aleph willing to risk the displeasure of the Host to be my friend.

So as soon as I came back to Earth, I looked him up, of course.

I’m kind of in the same boat he’s always been in; I have my powers, but the moment I draw down energy to do anything major, or even upload any complex hand-rolled query, my memories upload to the Host. And I’m absolutely sure that the Lion is going to honor the law and not seek to obtain illicit access to privacy-locked memories. Yup. Positive. So the moment I use my powers, my enemy gets to see exactly what I’ve been thinking and planning up to that point. Which means I can’t use my powers for anything short of “my physical body has just been killed and I need to upload or I’ll actually die.” But locating a fellow Aleph is such a common query, we have a wizard for it, which can be triggered without uploading – and while my privacy lock keeps that particular simple query from finding me, Heph’s never felt the need to hide.

But I gotta admit I was kind of shocked when I saw his new body.

He recognized me, of course. “Fox. Come on in.”

Heph was living in a farmhouse that he’d converted to his brand of tech wonderland, probably because he wanted to have enough land between him and his human neighbors that no one called the cops for strange noises or mysterious lights. I stepped over several gadgets of unknown function, following Heph to the kitchen. “You still drink tea?” he asked me.

“Uh, yeah, what have you got?”

“Oolong, chai, green with ginger, peach chamomile, Earl Grey, and hibiscus.”

“Gimme the chai.” The last time we’d met, chai had been something you’d only get if you were actually in India.

I made my way to his kitchen table, which was covered with papers and had what looked like two laptops sitting on it. I happened to know they were laptops the way desktop computers are abacuses, but humans probably wouldn’t have been easily able to tell the difference, unless they knew the Unix operating system well enough to know that Heph was not running a variant of it. Heph pushed the papers out of the way on one of the chairs, giving me a clear spot to sit down, as he remote-activated a teakettle with his mind.

“What brings you back to Earth?” he asked.

“Before we get into that, I need to address the elephant in the room, Heph.”

“No one here goes by Elephant.”

If I hadn’t known Heph as well as I did, I might not have guessed he was telling a joke; he was completely deadpan. “Yeah yeah. What have you done to your use-form?”

Like I said, the last time I’d seen Heph, he’d been built, matching the crippled blacksmith stereotype. Now… he was still tall. That was about the only point of resemblance. He’d gone for a pasty white, skinny form with long blond hair in a ponytail, thick glasses with a tint to them so I couldn’t really see his eyes well, and his body looked like it would blow away in a strong wind. There was a visible brace on his left leg, and he dragged it very slightly when he walked. Heph had always made his use-forms disabled, but there’s disabled and then there’s “looks completely helpless.”

“This is the new look for the 21st century technologist,” Heph said.

“It looks like the consumption chic that was going around in Byron’s day. Do you eat? At all?”

“Sure. Chips, pizza, burgers. All of the fatty, unhealthy stuff that modern technology gurus poison themselves with when they’re crunching on a project, which is all the time.”

“Great, so you’re not just incredibly skinny, you also probably have a dozen vitamin deficiencies. Heph. You gotta keep that body running! With your upload time—”

“Thanks, I’m aware of my upload time. And I’m pretty sure you didn’t drop in on me just to tell me I’m too thin.”

“I’m worried about you. You look like one high fever could do you in.”

“They’ve invented a lot more antibiotics than they had around when you got sick. Listen, Fox, I get that you’re worried, but I’m not trapped like you were. If something goes wrong with this body because it’s too fragile to survive, which is highly unlikely anyway, I’ll have enough time to upload. I’ve got plenty of equipment to scan it for health.” He got to his feet with some difficulty and limped over toward the singing teakettle.

“What was wrong with the old one?”

“Firstly, too many photographs got taken of it. I had to fake my death so I didn’t have uncomfortable questions about why I looked exactly like my great-grandfather.”

“Maybe you should have thought of that before posing for photographs right after they were invented.”

“It’s not the Victoriana I was concerned with, it was more the World War II era stuff. And secondly, it’s the aesthetic. Today people don’t think of blacksmiths when they think of technology. They think of autistic white men with bad vision.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Did you actually give yourself autism or is that just a metaphor?”

“Look the definitions up, I am actually the closest thing to autistic the Aleph have ever produced.” He came over to the table with my tea. I didn’t try to help him or intercept him. Quite aside from the fact that he’d find it insulting, he had so much junk on the floor that his knowledge of what to step over and when made him more mobile than I’d be. “But stop trying to sidetrack me. What are you doing on Earth?”

If another Aleph had asked that question, there might have been all kinds of subtext in there. Are you in exile again? Have you gone native after spending ten years as a mortal here? Don’t you have anything better to do? From Heph, it more or less meant exactly what he’d asked. “Can’t tell you unless you’ve run a backup,” I said, taking a sip of the tea.

Heph rolled his eyes. “You’re so dramatic,” he said. “Look at this.” He got up again and dodged some more junk on the floor, making his way toward what the people who’d built this place probably thought of as a family room or maybe sitting room. I followed, feeling like a drunk guy in a china shop. My personal aesthetic has never been tiny, delicate motions, so getting anywhere across Heph’s floor without breaking his stuff was like a minefield, except with fewer actual explosions, I hoped.

It was a metal box. “Very impressive,” I said. “I especially like the craft in the solder lines.”

“Don’t be an ass. Here.” He unlatched a latch I hadn’t recognized and lifted the lid. Inside was a crystalline array of the kind the Aleph used to use before we shifted to encoding our data in neutron stars. “Local backup device.”

I tried not to look impressed. Of course Heph had a local backup device. I was kicking myself for not assuming he’d have created such a thing. “Does it work?”

“I changed my use-form. How do you think I did that without it being a major pain in the rear?”

That was a good point. Heph’s bandwidth was low enough that it would take him a couple of days to upload to the Host. Changing bodies would have involved creating a new form, uploading out of it, and then downloading into the new one… which was a problem if it took you two days to upload or download, because your physical body might very well die on you or suffer brain damage while you were imperfectly socketed in it. I felt a lot better about Heph’s frailty now. “How long does it take to transfer to that?”

“I’m running delta backups every time I sleep, so if the body were to die unexpectedly, I’d only need to transfer at most a day’s worth of memories and experiences. Probably 20 minutes at a maximum. Also, if it wasn’t obvious to you, I’m not doing regular backups to the Host and I can tag data to keep it out of the upload when I do, and there’s no way any other Aleph is getting into my local backup server. It’s not even connected to the Host except when I run uploads from it.”

Okay. His memories weren’t accessible to the Lion either. That meant it was safe to tell him the details of what I was up to. I made my way back to the table with my teacup. “So, this is going to be a long story…”

[hecohansen31]

Just Ride (Chapter 2).

(JIm Mason+Reader, MOTO GP AU).

A/N: Hello there, lovelies!

I just wanted to thank you, first of all, for all the love for this fic, I am glad you loved it, almost as much as I loved writing it and I hope this second chapter won’t disappoint you (also it is a bit far away from the MOTO GP world… sorry guys, I just needed to let that fluff go!).

Second of all, I am not going to disappear, but it might take me some time for me to upload the third chapter (yeah there is going to be a third chapter, with smut!) because I have been feeling straight up destroyed and I pulled all-nighters to write this chapter (I don’t regret it, but guys… I AM TIRED!) and i neglected both reading (which calms me down, mostly because I am anxious for an exam) and my own original writing (I am almost finished with my book, so I need to focus on that). Sorry!

I am not going to drop out of here (i am pretty addicted), but I will try to post two fic I just need to read and correct (about Outpost! Michael *wink face*).

As always: ANY FEEDBACK IS WELCOME (Also just “you suck, this suck, stop writing”) just let me know what you think, I love you!

And after all this talk: ENJOY!

(Also the photo of Jim kissing is honestly so cute… and I want a kiss from Jimmy right now! 🙈😉)

SUMMARY: Suddendly you are not only his mechanic, but apparently feelings are also involved and although he keeps on seeing you as a friend, you might want something more…

WORDS: 3 K.

WARNING: Drug Talking (there is no drug consumption or abuse, but there is talking about it, so just wanted to put this all out), just fluffy thoughts and some mentions about what happened in “The Tribes of Palos Verdes”, mentions of sex and mommy kink (but no actual smut, be ready for it in the next chapter). Just fluff!

She checked out her appearance in the mirror of the elevator, meanwhile her girlfriends chatted, giggling about the party they were going to attend, a party hosted by Jim in his New York loft, paid with the first and last win of the season, because although he had started learning the ways of the bike, the other riders were now extremely careful with him, not letting, what had happened on the first race, again.

And although Jimmy was a true champ in learning from his mistakes (he still was too reckless for her) he had only managed another podium in the three latest races, and one time he had fallen from the bike (which got her a little heart attack) (for the moto, obviously…).

And although everybody was proud of him, he seemed unhappy of the place he kept on being and going back to, even going as far as avoiding the press that time he had fallen down, letting her handle the questions.

“He is in a bad period, just trying his best to fit in with the other riders, who are clearly trying him out and he is having a difficult time not seeing them as just rivals” she had tried to justify him, before moving back to his destroyed bike, finding Jim, already there, still in his race suit.

“You can take off for the rest of the day” she had given him the permission, but he had shaken his head and instead he had asked for an iron tire and instructions on how to fix the moto, and himself.

And slowly in those weeks, they spent together, she had learned a bit about him, so she couldn’t help but participate to his latest party, although they weren’t her place; she had brought a few girlfriends with her; some even had crushes on Jim so she hoped that a good flirt might help him settle down the uneasiness he felt, lately.

Although it pained it a bit to see her tall and beautiful friends talk about Jim as a piece of meat.

He was an annoying biker, but he was a beautiful person, much more than a piece of meat (although she knew he was a good piece of meat, having seen him without the race suit dozen of times, walking in his trailer to talk with him or call him out for try-outs).

-Don’t overwhelm him, girls- she just suggested, before moving out of the elevator, with a last check on the dress she had chosen; she never wore them, again the “they are too feminine for you” warning sounding angrily in her head, but the previous days she had seen the dress and her friends had insisted that she tried it on, since it matched perfectly her physique and she found them to be correct, feeling the sexiest thing ever in the bodycon and lacey dress.

She, outside of the shop, and in a very crowded room, found herself to be at unease.

She still felt the sexiest, a little self-conscious about how much skin she was showing, and how she was presenting herself to everyone.

She knew it was silly, but, also, she spent all of her life in training clothes or mechanic gear, which covered each piece of skin she might show, and it all made her feel protected.

Russel walked in when he caught her on threshold of the door, meanwhile her girlfriends scattered everywhere, looking for either a partner or a drink or both.

-Hello, there, boss! – he smirked at her, hugging her, meanwhile he moved his full plastic glass to the nearest shelf -… didn’t know you were coming-.

-I honestly wanted to see how Jimmy was holding everything up- she couldn’t lie to Russel, mostly when working on the same bike or bikers together -… did you see him? -.

-Sadly, just for a swift minute at the start of the party, then I lost him- he shook his head, a sad smile on his face, which prompted her to bite down worriedly her bottom lip.

She just patted him on the shoulder, before moving away, smiling at the people she recognized and at those she didn’t, getting a swift arm grab by Jack, the manager, who dived in for a quick kiss on her cheek, before complimenting her outfit, shouting over the sudden loud music.

-Have you seen Jim? – she just asked him, without reciprocating the kiss and the compliments, just smiling tightly at him, in search of answers, meanwhile his mouth opened in a radiant smirk; he was clearly happy that she didn’t think about killing Jim and make it seem like an accident.

-He went in his room, he needed to change after he got beer spilled on him, second door on the left- he instructed her, before sending her off, as soon as a blonde woman moved in front of her with another red plastic glass for him, sending her an harsh glare, as if she was worried she might take Jake away from her.

She actually almost got lost in the massive loft, ended up opening the wrong door, surprising two very “busy” people and then she finally managed to get the one with a huge warning sign with the writing “Don’t walk in without knocking, I might be playing play-station”.

And knock she did, not getting any answer.

So, she opened the door, finding it unlocked, not even hearing any noise and Jim wasn’t there, which meant either he wasn’t there or he was …

A little noise prompted her to discover a little bathroom inside the room, and there she found Jim…

With a little bag of something white in his hand, his pinky dipped in it, but she moved fast enough to catch him by surprise and avoid him going on with his project.

Quickly she stole the little bag straight from his hand and using the surprise effect to obtain no resistance from him, and also perfectly hitting the toilette seat and flushing the little bag down before Jim could reach it, and when he kneeled on the toilette and just watched as the bag ended up in the sewers.

It happened all so fast, that meanwhile she tried to keep her breathe up, regaining it with careful and measured breathes, Jim pinned her to the wall and whereas she was far stronger than people gave her credit, his grip was not giving out after she tried to push against it, which scared her a bit more than she would admit.

-You do realize that you flushed a lot of money down the toilette? – he tried to sound threatening but something in his was just not convincing, his tone cracking up badly and she wondered if she hadn’t been a little too late, if he had already assumed other drugs.

-And you do realize that you were just flushing your entire future, with the consumption of that dose? – she retorted back, gaining back control and pushing her chest against his.

His weak grip broke and she was the one who backed him up on the opposite part of the bathroom, and now it was her who had the upper hand, pining him, with a leg between his and her hands grasping his -What were you thinking? -.

She didn’t want to sound disappointed, knowing perfectly it wouldn’t help.

Jim hadn’t opened up with her about the real reason between his drug consumption, but he spent a lot of time talking about his twin Medina, even showing her the pictures he took on his surfing holidays with his twin, being as proud as not so many people.

But when those things happened, he somehow disappeared in himself as if something about Palos Verdes disturbed him, bringing back sad memories.

“Why didn’t you become a surfer?” she had asked, after getting in great details the reason why he wanted, right in that moment, to be out of a circuit and on a Cali beach, surfing.

“I wanted to get away” he had mumbled, looking down at the iron tire in his hands “Why did you become a mechanic?”.

-They help with dealing with all the anxiety I get from races… I don’t know if you have realized it or not, but I suck- and he looked at his shoes, which made her to release a hand and make him raise his face to meet her eyes.

-You don’t suck, you are just inexperienced- she explained calmly, moving her hand to his hair, caressing it, before flicking an ear, hearing a distinctive “ouch” -… and you are learning swiftly, I am impressed by the fact that you manage to only fall once-.

He just looked at her unimpressed, moving to exit her grip, but she stopped him.

-You don’t need them, Jimmy- she chanted, again her hand moving to his hair, this time pulling lightly to get his head to raise and their eyes to meet -… if they found out you started again you would have to quit and this would be worse than you falling down each race, because if you fall down you get back and better, but with drugs…-

-…I fall and I stay down- he completed for her, releasing a long breath, before moving his hands down in surrender, with hers on them, and moving to slump on her, which got her to almost fall, at the sudden weight, letting out an annoyed “umph” -… my therapist used to say that all the time-.

-I am the therapist of your bike so that actually makes sense- she adjusted the weight, moving an hand to the wall to keep herself stable -… now can we go out and enjoy the party, without me worrying of you finding some coke to snort? - .

He giggled at her, as if he hadn’t given her a heart attack a few minutes before and she honestly loved when he was like that, and she loved it all even more when he brought her in a hug.

-It wasn’t coke, but ok, I will stay away from drugs, but I don’t want to go back to the party, momma- he seemed as a petulant child, mumbling on her shoulder and she rolled her eyes, but went back to caressing his head.

-I brought very cute friends for you- she attempted, but he wasn’t clearly interested, just pushing himself outside of the bath and to the bed, where slumped down, before inviting her to do the same, in her expensive and sexy dress, retrieving two play-station controllers.

-… let’s see how you handle being on the virtual circuit-.

She honestly knew that once you cut out one addiction, another took the place of the original one.

And whereas Jim had been voracious of something that numbed his senses, he now seemed interested into feeling everything.

And she heard each moment of “everything” before opening the trailer, where he stayed, and caught him with a different girl each time, annoyedly shouting at them to get it over quickly because he was needed for try-outs.

“The boy just needs a way to release stress” had commented Russel, after he had seen the glare, she had sent Jim’s way as he accompanied a girl out of the trailer, quickly dismissing her.

“I go to the gym to release the tension” she had replied, instead, meanwhile she settled her look on the race.

“Well that is some kind of gym…” which got him a slap on his shoulder, before the girl moved to test the circuit and analyze the proper tire to use for that day.

So, she tried he best to ignore it, but to be there for him.

Slowly he was learning and she had been extremely surprised when he had managed to do a good job with a broken tire, on his own, for which she had been so surprised that he had managed to sneak around her and kiss her cheeks, happy he had been again on the podium, for that race.

This time when she called him to tell him that he only had an hour before the race he found him alone, in his plastic chair, with his hoodie over his head, shielding his eyes, completely motionless In the his sat position, which got her worried, thinking of the worst but he immediately raised his head when he heard her at the door, almost as a puppy who just recognized his master coming home for him.

(And sometimes she found herself comparing him to a big Labrador puppy, mostly whenever he hug-attacked her after a race, drenched in sweet and smoking of gasoline, which, at first, prompted a disgusted protest from her, but swiftly she just cuddled just closer to his chest, holding him as he held her).

-Hello, there- he mumbled, showing how reactive he was, clearly sensing her presence and worry -Is it already time for the race to start? -.

Although Jim didn’t usually take notice of the time, he wasn’t that lost, which prompted her to understand he wasn’t clearly in a good mood.

-You still have an hour, but I thought to call you, in case you had… company- she mumbled, trying to make it appear a teasing tone, smiling sarcastically at him, before she shot a look at the little bath in the trailer -… I hope no one will come out of the bathroom, because that would be awkward-.

He just smiled tiredly at her, and she moved closer to him, kneeling behind him, which finally got a raise from him.

-Jimmy, what is troubling you? – and she gripped his face so they could be at eye level, in order for her to understand if she could do something for him, holding a hand, rubbing circles into it, because it might calm him.

She called him Jimmy only when she was worried or to tease him and most of the time it happened in her mind, not out loud at him so he looked shocked at her, before moving his eyes down to their joined hands.

-You must seriously think I am more trouble than what I am worth- he mumbled, and she griped his hand tighter.

-Jimmy, if I thought it like that, I would have seriously unscrewed some nails on your first day- this got him a bewildered expressions as if to say “YOU WOULDN’T DARE” -… you are just a bit more frail, and that isn’t a flaw, not when it makes you so nice to everyone, the team loves you, the others bikers love you, when you don’t make them fall…- “and I might have developed a slight crush on you, but not only it would be highly unprofessional, because I am your mechanic, but also I am also not your type…”.

-… you know what would help? Telling me how cool I am! – he replied, getting in the mood, although he still hid what made him feel bad, and if she didn’t confront it now, it might bite him in the ass when he was riding, which was worse.

-You got the wrong person, Jim, you should have gotten one of those pretty model … I mean I am prettier…-

-You are- he commented, immediately after, which got her to almost stagger backward, worried about what she might have heard, but she managed to keep her balance -… you are beautiful-.

-I am covered in grease half of the time- she couldn’t believe that Jim found her beautiful, she didn’t think she was ugly or anything else, she thought herself to be pretty, but the ordinary “I don’t care to appear feminine” pretty, which didn’t interest Jim, but she was wrong, apparently.

-It brings out your natural glow- he replied, smirking meanwhile she bushed and fumed like a crazy lady, before collecting herself, and looking at him.

-Don’t try to change the subject- although she straight up was doing the same -… what was bothering you? And how can I help you? -.

-You know it’s nice you think you can fix me as a bike of yours- he muttered, his eyes shooting to the ground, his tone bitter, which made her truly sad for whatever the hell was going in his mind right now, and she passed an hand between his hair, gripping them tightly, this time he wouldn’t escape her probing eyes.

-I am pretty aware that you are not a bike to fix those things are easier…- and she moved closer to him, enough for their forehead to meet -… you are very much alive, and this makes it all much better-.

And before he could ask her to specify she kissed him, throwing out of the door every thought she had about how improper she was being and the imminent rejection, she just wanted Jimmy to feel her and feel that she could be a human, before a mechanic and that she cared for him.

She didn’t let the kiss last too long, worried it wasn’t going to be reciprocated ad that she overstepped her boundaries, but if she hadn’t used the surprised effect Jim might have closed in himself again and is she wanted him to be open with her, she had to be firstly open with him.

And he saw it.

And he leaned again towards her, towards her lips, clearly in search of another kiss, which was negated by a quick duck to the left of the girl, a little freeing giggle free from her lips.

Did Jim feel the same thing for her?

-… no no, no more kisses till you tell me what is wrong- she mumbled, right in front of his lips, teasing him, which prompted a pout from the other.

-I need something better than kisses for that and he eyed her body, explicitly, which prompted a glare from her and a slap on his thigh -… ouch! You are stronger than I thought! -.

-That’s what happens when you work with bikes and annoying riders, now tell me and I might go out with you, and if everything will be ok, I will even let you hold my hand again-.

-Can I sneak my hand in your jeans pockets like in that Netflix movie you made me see, “To all the assholes I have loved before”? – he smirked, clearly a bit gaining back his confidence, although blushing like she had been a few moments before.

-After you tell me what bothered you, I will even let you grope a little my ass, because I have seen you staring at it, meanwhile I pick things around…- actually it had been Russell catching him, and elbowing him meanwhile cackling, just to refer everything to (Y/N), saying:

“That’s why you shouldn’t be afraid of all those pretty blonde models; he has eyes only for you…” and he had smirked “…. your backside”.

This made him blush, and to prompt him with further bribing of her body, she moved onto his lap, sitting so they could face each other, keeping her balance wrapping her hands behind his neck.

-You realize that with that kiss, I made a jump into something I wasn’t expecting, but I did it because I trust you, and I am not asking for you to trust me…-.

-I do- he mumbled, which was surprising after she had straight up threatened at least five times to get his bike not working in the middle of the race -… it’s just that it is a thing I am scared will make you run away-.

He moved his hand on her back to help her keep the position, caressing lightly, much more to his comfort than hers.

-… Jimmy, it isn’t going to happen, ok… I like you a little bit too much and I have seen you throw a tantrum after you fell down the first time… I get that there are hard times and you are allowed to have them, but if I can help, I am here, with a tire iron to beat whoever hurt you-.

Although she said she was joking, she seriously would fight for that boy so so badly.

He looked at her for a bit, as if searching confirmation, but he saw only iron sweetness, and after he got a deep breath he spoke up:

-My mother called me…-

When they got out of the trailer, five minutes before the race started, she was wearing her sunglasses, meanwhile her jacket was raised on her neck and she promptly moved next to Russell, meanwhile checking the preparations of the bike.

Swiftly Jimmy jumped on it, shooting her a smile before wearing the helmet, getting a playful smack on it by the manager.

Russel smiled at her, meanwhile she settled down next to him, in her place, looking out at the still-clean race, getting ready in the same moment Jim exited the stables.

-Nice hickey- Russel commented, smirking cheekily.

-It’s a mosquito bite- she replied, swiftly, without moving her eyes from Jimmy’s bike.

-Oh, of course- whistled Russel, who knew perfectly what was going on -… I am glad you ended up together, I have actually won fifty dollars from Robert-.

She was glad she had won a date with the prettiest of the bikers.

As always I really hope that you liked it and will be here waiting for more (I hope it won’t take too much time! Also keep your eyes out for maybe another thing about my favorite sufer boy!) (Also in the previous piece there were actually real bikers’ name, just as a personal easter egg!).

Also I am tagging a few people who actually showed some love to this fic, hoping it won’t bother them! (if you want to be tagged, in the next piece, just let me know!).

@sojournmichael @duranie100theunionofthesnake @desertsunflower00

Any feedback is welcome: you loved it? You hated it? You have some suggestions?

I am all ears! 

[radiantanor]

A long time ago at Cuiviénen, before he had seen so many friends taken by the Enemy-In-The-Dark, Elwë would not have noticed anything out of the ordinary. Even now, there must be some less observant Elves who in his place would have decided that all of it - the glimpses of light, seemingly coming from nowhere, the echo of some song, disappearing when you focused on it - was just a mistake of the mind. Fortunately, Elwë knows better than to ignore something like that.

They were supposed to be safe now, he thinks. For now, there is nothing around him but the forest and the singing of a myriad nightingales. No sign of imminent danger, but also no backup nearby, seeing as he had been returning alone from his visit to the Tatyar and trying to enjoy a bit of solitude.

Oromë the Hunter is somewhere with Ingwë's host, too far away to be any help now... and too far away to be summoned quickly if whatever occupied this forest were to approach their camp.

Whatever it is, at least it does not seem evil. In fact, something about it reminds him of Valinor. He even notices some plants from there, which should not be growing in a constantly dark Star Forest such as this. But that is no guarantee, considering the reports about people having disappeared when trying to approach strangers who had looked like fellow Quendi, or even responding to cries for help. Some servants of Melkor, as the Valar call him, could be around still. Yet Elwë needs to have some idea of what this is, or risk having it come to the camp with no forewarning. It would only be a brief scouting mission. And in the worst case scenario, Olwë could take on the leadership of their people. He moves onward.

He does not notice as his conviction to only have a quick look disappears, dispelled by the first notes of song. No, a Song, he corrects himself, and yet that does not seem like a reason to turn back at this point, either.

Its source is a Maia, of course - he has seen many before, but never as interesting as this one. Unlike the Maiar in Valinor, who had been doing their best to keep the three Elves comfortable, she has not taken an entirely Elvish shape. Her black hair flows down her back and spreads across the meadow, becoming an actual shadow when it touches the ground, and yet young plants spring up where it falls. The lady is wearing an approximation of a dress, plain white and almost transparent, though there appears to be no visible body beneath it but rather the forest behind her. And on the trees above, a choir of countless nightingales is joining their voices with hers to create that Song. At last, she turns around, and her face -

He stumbles forward, stretching out a hand. A moment passes, then another hand, perfect and very recently shaped, grasps his.

                                                             ~~~

The Elf who calls himself Elwë is fascinating, and she does not think that her lack of meetings with the Creator's Children is the sole reason for that. Melian likes how the corners of his lips move upwards when she lets him know that thought, too. The movements of his physical body are reflecting his mood much more accurately than she is used to with her fellow Ainur.

'Show me more of yourself', she thinks, doing her best to mimic his expression. She can not be sure if it has worked as intended - he seems slightly bemused - but he does open his mind to her.

Melian is intrigued by the patterns of his thought, the strange depth of the connection between mind and body, the ever-so-slightly different way the Treelight is reflected in his eyes. She does not abuse the trust he has put in her and merely looks at the thoughts he is willing to show her, of course. A starlit sky, its reflection upon a magnificent lake surrounded by Star Forests and a rising number of people filled with amazement at everything they see, the first friendships and loves, singing, laughing, exploring. In return, she shows him images of the world as she first beheld it, the delight she felt when the Ainur began to shape it.

He trusts her with the unhappy memories as well; the shadows and terrors in the Dark, hunting monsters and being hunted in turn, his friends being captured or slain.

She responds with a memory of the War, the victory of the Valar and the imprisonment of Melkor. Elwë shudders slightly, but before she can wonder which part of it may have been too much for him and try to take it back, he gives her a thought full of gratitude and respect. His mind is a startling mix of old fear and rapidly fading discomfort, awe and thankfulness and joy. There is also a little bit of something else yet unnamed but familiar, perhaps similar to what she feels for her kin and for the Creation, but directed at her. She could stand in that meadow with him for many more years to come. After all, what reason is there to hurry?

Elwë had not seemed in a hurry either, yet now she sees more and more memories of his family, his friends, his people. A new question appears. 'Tell me, what were you doing before you met me?'

"We are trying to reach Valinor. I have been there once before, with Finwë and Ingwë, and - well, you know what it's like better than I could describe, the Light and everything. My people will be safe and happy there. Some of them were not convinced though, and sometimes I got quite annoyed with the constant arguments and the wandering off, but I still want them to have that."

He says it out loud, still smiling in a slightly dazed way. Melian does not feel like smiling back anymore. Elwë loves his Teleri, she has known that for a while now, and yet has failed to draw any connections to the fact that he has not been among them for a while now. She does not actually know how the other Quendi would perceive that stretch of time, but she doubts it constitutes a normal absence. Has she actually kept him from everything else that gave his life meaning, stopped him from continuing upon his chosen path? Inadvertently put her will over his, the way one of Melkor's minions might have?

She does not feel fear, exactly, yet there is some trepidation about what he might have to say about that in the future. There is nothing else to be done, though. Melian takes a deep breath in a rather Elvish way. Then she gathers up everything of herself, withdraws her Song from their surroundings and finally from his mind as best she can.

Elwë looks around for a moment and then back at her. "So, erm, how long were we standing here?"

Of course, he couldn't have missed how much taller the trees have grown. Just as she is about to respond, he starts talking again, strangely quickly: "And also how? I mean, I didn't eat or drink anything, so were you keeping me alive with your Maia magic? Or whatever you call it, my lady, I hope the term is not offensive. And, um, I can't help but notice you look different, and I wanted to say you don't have to change anything about yourself on my behalf, in case that's why you did it..."

Her shape is indeed closer to an Elvish body than ever before; she had thought once that it might feel like a constraint, but it is no issue at all when it is meant to help him. However, she is not sure how to explain her reasons best, so she decides to focus on the important thing.

"Do not worry - what you said was not offensive, for I am now aware of the true meaning behind any of your words. I have chosen this appearance for the eyes of your people, to whom you must return. With your permission, I would like to accompany you."

Elwë smiles.

[realityisiron]

IT WAS DEFINITELY SHIRO

IT WAS, WASN’T IT?!

(stares off into the middle distance) I knew it.

And wow I just wanted to write you something funny and short in response but then this happened.

Coran twirled the left end of his mustache, a sharp glint in his eyes as he overlooked the tiny makeshift set-up before him. It wasn’t quite the same as the highly detailed turquoise holograms and the carefully carved figurines, but the random bits and pieces they found on the planet Verkos was more than enough for an exhausted band of heroes looking for a distraction from the several weeks voyage still left before reaching Earth. After the three-varga-long session Coran had hosted a few quintants before, Krolia had now settled down in a corner with one of the tablets, carefully constructing a character to fit the slim gray and brown rock she had selected to represent her. When any of them offered to help her, she had simply waved them off. Hunk swore he heard her muttering about feats and exotic races and prestige classes he had never even heard of, which did little to ease the group as they glanced over to watch her work.

Alternatively Keith, upon hearing Shiro had already died several times in this game, had simply grabbed a large rock and planted it on the playing mat next to Shiro’s rubbery leaf figurine and said: “Make me big. And strong.”

Keith’s character became the biggest, mightiest, beefiest, and still somehow the fastest among them - much to Lance’s outrage - mostly made of mismatched muscles and a collection of hands wielding a horrifying array of sharp things. Mostly Keith’s time playing was spent rolling often and unnecessarily, shouting out results to checks Coran hadn’t required and rolling an impossibly high amount of the Altean equivalent of a nat-twenty. His character, Gorg, spoke very little, the longest sentence being “I am Gorg. I have come to protect Jiro.” His other sentences usually consisted of him changing that name as Shiro’s many characters fell to Coran’s malicious intent. 

Coran seemed about to enact it once again. “So, just to make this clear, Number One,” Coran started, his tone light and gleeful, “you would like Viro-”

“No, no, we’re on Niro now.”

“What? We’re not on Tiro? When did Tiro die?”

“Pretty quick, actually. Xiro failed his saving throw on the poison and died, Tiro ran in half a second too late to save his brother, and then the guards shot him full of arrows because this random dude just sort of appeared out of nowhere. So. Yeah. Shot him dead.”

“Paladins. You are all wrong. It’s Yiro, now.”

To Romelle, it sounded as if the group had been playing this game - a game she found quite boring if she was being totally honest - for decaphebes. She was quickly corrected.

Twenty-two vargas in total.

Shiro sighed, weariness settled deep in his bones as he sat propped between Keith and Allura. He understood that by now the high mortality rate of his characters was an ongoing joke, but the new body ached and his head still pounded with months of rest he could never dream of catching up on and Yiro had had really nice stats. He straightened himself, aiming to put the debate to rest on which reincarnation this was when Keith abruptly spoke up.

“I am sworn to protect Kiro. First of his name. Sixteenth son, to inherit the quest of Shiro should his other brothers perish.”

There was a long silence as everyone stared wide-eyed at Keith, who had now broken the record for how many words Gorg had ever spoken in one go. Shiro laughed, soft and weak somewhere in his chest, but Keith smiled all the same at the small display of enjoyment.”

Coran glanced over at Romelle, who had created a list of all the Shiros, and she gave him a nod of approval. “… Right. Well, just to be clear, now that Pike has unlocked it, Kiro is opening the door?”

Shiro nodded. “Yes.”

Coran proceeded to do a series of frantic rolls, snatched Shiro’s tablet at some point - an easy feat nowadays - and then cackled. “Kiro bursts into flames!” A dramatic pause. “And perishes.”

Keith sat up, leaving Shiro to fall onto Allura. “Gorg dumps his water barrel on Kiro before he burns.”

“Ah, but it is magical fi-”

“I rolled this symbol. Is this like a nineteen?” Keith was aggressively holding the d20 up in the air for Coran to see, eyes narrowed but voice horrifyingly even.

“The trap is set to-”

“I also rolled this number. In case you need to check my reflexes.”

Shiro reclaimed his tablet as the two began to shoot back numbers and checks, acquiescence clear in his gaze. “Ahem,” he started off, clearing his throat for good measure. “I am…” A quick glance at Romelle’s list showed he was running out of letters to use. “Ziro… And I have come to continue my brother’s quest.” He began to tap the update into his character’s family tree, but the tablet merely buzzed at him and refused his request. Shiro frowned, retyping the name and pressing once more.

Nothing.

“Coran. What is happening?”

Coran’s entire face went dark, a low maniacal laugh ripping out of his chest. “You have hit… the maximum number of siblings the program can handle!” Coran announced with delight. “You will be forced to craft a new character from scratch! A new character, a new class. And it will be glorious!”

The entire group erupted into laughter and cheers as Shiro pouted in disbelief at his character sheet. Lance looked like he might cry from joy.

And then Shiro hummed thoughtfully.

“I can’t have anymore siblings?” he asked. “You’re sure.”

Coran was still grinning, eyes alight with victory and hellfire. “Yes!”

Shiro smiled, typing something into his tablet before picking up a small purple rock near his knee and placing it beside Gorg. “I am Shiro Jr. I am a ten year old training to be a powerful Paladin like my father. I have come to avenge him and all my uncles, and to complete my father’s quest!”

Silence.

Romelle was the first to start laughing, so hard she fell over.

Coran had gone pale. “Wait,” he started, voice wavering. “Shiro never mentioned a significant other! Or a child! You can’t be here without an adult!”

“Gorg has come to-”

“You do not count!” Coran snapped, a vein throbbing on his forehead. “How do you plan to explain this child just showing up out of nowhere? Who is the other parent? Why was this boy never mentioned before???”

“The answer to all your questions is simple.” The group in unison turned to Krolia, who now sat beside Keith with her tablet and the slim rock she had chosen. “I am Avaris, a Silvaran druid with a celestial wolf familar. I met Shiro many years ago on a mission of my own, but he was summoned away at the news of someone sighting the beast that had slain his master, and I never saw him again. He never knew I would later give birth to his one and only heir. With Gorg’s assistance, I seek to ensure the completion of my former lover’s quest.” Krolia’s eyes flashed a blinding yellow. “And the unquestionable survival of my son.”

Romelle suddenly loved this game.

[itslulu42]

Evening Surprises

Part Nine of Ninja Dorks Flailing at Interpersonal Relations!

Surprises!  Surprises all around!  They keep coming because I can’t help myself. I feel like there’s an omake here too.  I’m might get that up in a couple of days.

Story under the cut!

One | Five | Previous

“Sasuke-kun!”  

Sakura drank the sight of him in. Sasuke had grown out his hair, the fringe covering his left eye where the Rinnegan lay.  It was almost unfair how pretty he was.

“Hello, Sakura.” Sasuke stepped towards her, the barest hint of a smile on his face.  

So pretty.

“What are you doing here?”

“He came just to see us! Isn’t that great, Sakura?”  Naruto flopped on a nearby chair, frowned, and then reached underneath him to pull out a copy of Black Cat Boyfriend.  “Eh, what’s this?”  He squawked when he opened the book and saw the illustrations.

Mortified, Sakura leapt over the side table between them to snatch the offending book out of Naruto’s hands.  “That’s Ino’s!” she explained, even as she opened a nearby drawer and shoved it inside.

“That might be true,” replied Sasuke, “but it doesn’t explain the similar books you have in your room.”  

“I… um... well…” Sakura stuttered his direction.  Sasuke was smirking in her direction, his head tilted to the side in inquiry.

Naruto howled with laughter. “I can’t believe it!  All those times you yelled at me and it turns out you’re a pervert too.”

“I am not!”  Sakura felt her cheeks heat up.  Sasuke was never going to look at her the same way again. “Would you like a cup of tea?” She asked as she headed towards the kitchen, anxious to hide her blushing face. Sasuke hummed in affirmation.

Sakura set the tea kettle to boil, and then opened up the upper cabinet, pulling out her favorite mug along with Naruto’s designated cup.  Pushing aside the mug with paw prints, she found a plain black one that was rarely used in the back.  She took the tea back out to the living room.

“What were you doing in my room?” Sakura asked Sasuke now that she was able to shake her embarrassment away.  She handed him the black mug from the tray in her hands.  

“I slept there,” Sasuke replied in a nonchalant tone.   He plucked at the old uniform shirt he was wearing.  “I doing laundry right now and I found this in your room, so I borrowed it.”

“He made himself right at home,” Naruto said as he placed his empty mug back on the tray and flung his leg over the arm of the chair.  

“I knew you wouldn’t mind,” Sasuke explained.  He leaned against the wall, looking like a work of art propped next to Sakura’s bookcase. “You’ve always been very…. kind.”

Sakura’s stomach erupted in a flurry of butterflies.  Their short time apart had made Sakura more aware of their height difference; she noted Sasuke had grown to be nearly as tall as Kakashi. There was something about Sasuke that seemed different than when she last saw him four months ago.  That air of nonchalance that made him so cool in the academy had returned.  Perhaps it was the borrowed shirt; he looked good in navy blue.  In another life, he would have grown up in Konoha to wear that uniform.  She was struck once more with the unfairness of it all.  

“Sakura!  We were planning on having dinner later on today? I know you’re usually pretty busy, but Hinata said you usually have your evenings off on Saturdays.”

“ I would love to. Are we inviting Yamato-sensei?  I know he’s in the village.  He just returned from a mission two days ago.”

There was an uncomfortable silence as Naruto looked in Sasuke’s direction.  “I need to check on my laundry,” Sasuke said, before disappearing down the hall into Sakura’s bedroom.

Sakura frowned at his swift departure while Naruto snickered.  “Sasuke was really confused when he found the uniform in your room.  I had to explain that sometimes people stop over here for medical treatment.”

“Oh!  Um… right.”  Sakura replied, not correcting him.  A few months ago, a chunin had waited at Sakura’s doorstep rather than going to the hospital.  The man nearly died when she while she was delivering a baby.  He had only survived because of another shinobi had brought him in, but the man still lost one his kidneys as a result.  Once Kakashi had found out about her occasional midnight visitors, he put an immediate ban on the practice.  

Sasuke emerged from her bedroom wearing the same outfit he had worn when he left the village a few months ago.  Sakura was tempted to tell him to change back.  It was terribly unflattering.

“Ready to go, Sasuke? We better leave before Sakura gets mad at us for wasting her day.”  Naruto tugged at Sasuke’s arm to pull him towards the door.  “We’ll see you later tonight!”

Sakura blinked at their abrupt departure, the half-drunk tea still in her hands.  It was a strange visit.  Conversations with Sasuke were never easy, but there was something this time that seemed… off.  Shrugging to herself, she carried the mugs back to the kitchen, and went to her room. Taking a look around, everything was in place as she had left the day before.  The only sign that Sasuke had been in at all was the old uniform he had borrowed.  It was folded neatly on a table, next to some spare bandages and a pair of Akino’s sunglasses.  

The rest of the afternoon passed in a flurry of errands.  Laundry, groceries, and Tsunade's visit had left Sakura in desperate want of a manicure.  She also returned a few flower vases she had borrowed from Ino for Kakashi when had hosted a delegation from Ame the previous week.  

Sakura had only ten minutes of time to relax when there was a knock on the door.  Sasuke was there waiting for her, nodding as he greeted her.

Sakura gave him a nervous smile when she saw he was alone.  She couldn’t remember when was the last time Sasuke had chosen to see her by himself, even after the war Sakura was accompanied by Naruto, Yamato-sensei, or Tsunade.   She exited her apartment, tucking her key into her weapons pouch on her thigh.  Sasuke guided Sakura left toward the restaurant district.

“Where are we going for dinner?”

“It’s a surprise,” he replied, raising his hand to run his hands through the fringe on his face.

Sakura chewed the top of her lip as she looked up at Sasuke.  He was definitely acting strangely, even for him.  He had left his travelling cloak off, still wearing a high collar that he favored so much.  Sasuke was simultaneously a familiar presence and a stranger.  Sakura found herself at a loss on what to say.  Knowing his taciturn personality, she followed his directions in silence, waving her greetings rather than speaking when she crossed familiar faces.

Sasuke finally stopped at a restaurant off of the main street, one with a small garden in front.

Sakura’s jaw dropped. “Here?”

Sasuke placed his hand gently on her shoulder to guide her inside.  “Hinata chose the restaurant.”  

Of course Hinata did. Sakura had never been inside the restaurant before; she didn’t even know the name.  It was out of her family’s price range growing up, and now that Sakura was making enough income to eat there, she was too busy to bother with the effort.  Hinata would have eaten here regularly, and wouldn’t think anything of it.

Entering the restaurant, Sakura spotted Hinata and Naruto waiting at a table.  Even from a distance, she could see that Hinata looked gorgeous, forgoing her usual attire and had her hair pulled up.  Sakura noticed Naruto had followed Hinata’s example, his outfit a little more reserved than usual.

Sakura felt horribly underdressed, underprepared and unbalanced.  She would have appreciated a warning earlier in the day from Naruto, but that was perhaps to much too expect from him still.  She took a seat, gave a greeting to her friends and stared at the menu, trying to decide what to eat.  

“I’m so happy for us right now,” Hinata stated, her low voice perfect in the quiet ambiance.  “Are you, Sakura?”

“Umm... yes?” Sakura replied, as she eyed a server who was carrying another customer’s plate.  The servings were tiny.  She wondered how many orders would be socially acceptable in a restaurant like this. If she finished dinner early enough, she would still have time to make it to Kakashi’s to eat his leftovers.  He usually made his best food on Saturday evenings, usually cooking some sort of fish he had caught earlier in the day. Maybe she could—

Oh.

Sakura’s mind blanked as Sasuke’s hand reached underneath the table to rest gently on her hand. She turned to him in surprise, before averting her gaze to stare at her menu once more.  Hinata’s presence, Sasuke’s strange behavior, and Naruto’s pointed looks made sense now.

Sasuke’s thumb grazed her wrist.

This was a double date.

Omakes | Part Ten

[thetrumpdebacle]

Donald Trump has talked for over 12 years about throwing his hat in the ring for president. Many probably did not believe that he would give up his hit reality TV show, The Apprentice. Even more people, most likely, did not believe he would reveal his net worth. There has been word that the 15th season of The Apprentice has been cancelled, he has said his paperwork will be in on time proving his net worth, and he has officially thrown his hat into the ring as a candidate for president. Consultants have warned all serious GOP presidential candidates to “steer clear of the stupid zone” referring directly to Trump and his need to draw people into confrontational debates.

Trump talks a lot about his negotiating skills and other great negotiators that he knows personally. He says that he can make our military stronger, take care of Isis, make America great again and has even promised to give people jobs…these are all “I” statements from his speech. Has Trump forgotten that his toughest negotiations will be with Congress?

A Republican consultant has told the GOPs to “Steer clear of the stupid zone” after Trump announced his run for the presidency Tuesday, June 16. Consultants have also warned serious presidential hopefuls to be aware of Trump’s ‘constantly swirling media vortex.’ Candidates of his own party will be sucked in and made a fool of, thus making the entire Republican Party look like his own private 3-ring circus, complete with the dancing bears.

Even Florida’s former Governor Jeb Bush knew to “steer clear from the stupid zone” when he was questioned about Trump’s plan to build a wall between the U.S. and Mexican borders, in order to keep out Mexican “rapists,” “drug smugglers,” and “criminals.” Bush just smiled, put his head down and mumbled a “no” while shaking his head.

Trump does not agree that his candidacy will damage the Republican Party. According to him, he will be a help to the Republicans because they currently have no idea what they are doing and that is why the U.S. is in such rough shape, as he informed CNN after a rally in Manchester, NH. It is most definitely a case of the Republican GOPs, Donald, and the Democrats. This is what is called a 3-ring circus and this part of the show is just beginning.

How long will the Republican GOP presidential candidates be able to stave off Trump’s provocations? After all, he blatantly insults the people in his own political party. The answer to that question will certainly dictate how much Trump will affect the primary election.

Rick Wilson, a GOP strategist, who is not working with a particular candidate, has said that Trump is a dangerous and disruptive addition to the Republican hopefuls. He believes that Trump will make an attempt to lure his rivals into confrontational debates that could harm the entire Republican Party’s image.

Trump’s announcement for candidacy started with insults to Jeb Bush’s intelligence and sense of fashion, which was just the first of many insulting comments. Then he proceeded to attack Mexico. After he was done mocking the other GOP candidates, he gave warnings to ISIS and Iran. He made a vow to beat China, as he claims to do in every negotiation he has with China, even though he has professed his “love” for China’s free-wheeling economy, and he also bragged about his wealth frequently.

Trump is just another bully on the playground. He is not running for president because he wants to, he is running because he can. Insulting people in his own political party, as well as, our trade partnership with Mexico, is just his way of alienating himself and feeling like the big man on campus, by walking on other people.

Wilson has been telling the GOP candidates to walk past it, ignore it, and dismiss it all. Trying to explain how the 11 other GOP candidates can stay out of Trump’s “stupid zone.” However, Ford O’Connell, a GOP strategist who is also not working with a candidate, does not believe it will be as simple to just turn the other cheek. It will be difficult to ignore this in your face bully, but it is the best bet for the other GOP candidates.

No one is sure how to treat Trump, not politicians nor the media. Is he boosting ratings for his reality shows? Is he seeking a personal boost and immense publicity by running? Or is he seriously looking to win the nomination or draw the outlines of the GOP race?

O’Connell says that tangoing with Donald will become such a great temptation to the GOP hopefuls that it is going to require a team effort to ignore him. It will only take just one of the candidates to be duped into Trump’s scheme and the backlash will come back on all of them, making the entire Republican Party look like a joke.

Wilson has warned Republican candidates that being in or trying to take Trump’s spotlight will not benefit them. There is no political upside to getting into a contest with Trump that would be at all relevant. Candidates who feel they can elevate themselves off a celebrity candidate do not understand that those people operate in a whole different airspace than regular people.

In order to be a part of the top-tier debates this summer, candidates must be in one of the top-10 spots in the national polls. It is believed that Trump’s celebrity status, money, and his ability to gain media as well as, public attention, will no doubt put him in one of those top-10 spots. A senior official with the GOP, Ray Tweedie, in New Hampshire, believes that Trump’s entertaining announcement for candidacy may cause the independent voters to consider the Republican Party. There are people who are not politically-minded, but they are discussing his politics. If he can get people to understand that several things in the U.S. are not going well, then he may just get people involved in the process of politics and plant the seeds of Republican ideas, according to Tweedie.

Stephen Stepanek, a New Hampshire State Representative, has given Trump his endorsement. He said he decided to change his thinking and that it was necessary to cease from appeasing the political establishment. Americans are done with being and behaving in a politically correct manner. Things have got to be shaken up and leaders need to do what is actually best for the American people, according to Stepanek. Trump has a tendency to be blunt with a charm that might appeal to disappointed voters who are tired of conventional political leaders.

Carly Fiorina, the former Hewlett-Packard CEO and GOP hopeful, told CNN that Donald is targeting issues people care about and he should not be so easily dismissed. Rush Limbaugh agreed stating that his comments on the American decline will stay with some voters.

Trump would have to put his lucrative media career on hold in order to be able to seriously make a run for the White House. NBC is already re-evaluating his role on The Apprentice. According to the rules and conventions that have been put into place to prevent political bias, he would not be allowed to continue with The Apprentice and be a political candidate. An announcement has already been made that Season 15 of The Apprentice has been cancelled. He also has 120 days from the launch of his campaign to file a disclosure on his finances, which he says will be done in plenty of time. However, does Donald truly have what it takes to run a country? There is no doubt that he knows how to negotiate and run a great business. He certainly knows how to strongarm his foe to gain what he wants, but does he know that running a business is a far cry from running a country? Does he realize that working with a team is necessary? And that negotiations have to be handled with more care than what he has planned to bring Ford back to America?

The only current GOP candidate with more name recognition is Jeb Bush, according to the director of the University of New Hampshire Survey Center, Andrew E. Smith. He also has the highest of unfavorable ratings of all candidates running in New Hampshire. However, it would be good to note that Jeb Bush does have a pretty strong lock on the Latino votes, at least over Donald if not altogether.

The Mexican government and a number of Latino leaders immediately expressed their anger and disdain toward Donald Trump’s accusations that Mexico has been sending criminals, drugs, and rapists to the U.S. as well as his idea to build a great wall on the border of Mexico and the U.S. After Trump’s 45-minute presidential candidacy announcement, Miguel Άngel Osorio Chong, Mexico’s Minister of Government, called the candidate’s criticism against Mexico “biased and absurd.”

Osorio Chong, who is the head of Mexico’s internal security, said the real estate mogul has chosen to ignore the contributions immigrants have brought to the U.S. The Mexican people who are living in the U.S. have helped the development of the nation, according to Osorio Chong. He believes that Trump is looking for media attention and is himself refraining from the “stupid zone.”

The Executive Director of the National Association of Latino Elected and Appointed Officials (NALEO), Arturo Vargas, says that Trump seems to be unable to separate fact from fiction. The need to develop a solid plan for foreign policy with the U.S’s most “important trade partner and neighbor is not a reality TV show.” Trump often openly expresses his prejudice against Latinos. He chastised the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences for awarding several Oscars to the director, Alejandro Iñάrritu, who is a Mexican citizen that Trump accused of “walking away with all the gold.” In March, he sent a tweet promising that Mexico will never host the Miss Universe pageant because he co-owns it with NBC.

What are Trump’s qualifications to be the President of the United States? He is rich. He has 7 million followers on Facebook, a platform from which he points out the failures of the current president, as well as, discusses the causes for which he advocates. He is on television every Monday morning discussing the importance of Free Market, strong families, a strong military and the obligation to take care of our veterans and their families.

Trump was a Grand Marshall in a parade honoring WWII, so people would show up. People did not come out to honor our WWII veterans, they came out to see him! Trump throws money in the form of donations, everywhere, and makes it well known. A true donator would keep those donations personal, looking for nothing in return. Trump has been nominated for an Emmy for his reality series, which has also raised millions for charity. Trump pretty much defines the “stupid zone.”

This author cannot be bought at any price, with any promise. Paying homage to United States war veterans is an honor and a privilege not to be taken for granted. The people who fought in wars lost friends, limbs, sanity and lives so this author could write this article.

via The Trump Debacle

[hst368-blog]

Zhou Enlai’s legendary life

Introduction

For the final project, I want to talk about one person. Zhou Enlai, the first premier of People’s Republic of China. Most of Chinese respect Zhou. Zhou spent his whole life for the revolution of New China. Zhou’s life is also the Modern China history. No Zhou Enlai, No communist party of China. 

Early learning

Zhou spent most of his learning time in Tian Jing. I learned a story about Zhou when I was in middle school.

 On that day, the headmaster asked the students a question: "why do you read books?"

The students answered enthusiastically. Some said, "to read for the sake of reason." Some said: "to be an official and read."Others said, "read for money." "Read books for meals"...

Zhou Enlai sat quietly, without taking the speech. The principal noticed, the gesture made everyone calm down, and asked him to answer. Zhou Enlai stood up and replied with a clear and determined answer:

"Reading for the rise of China!"

The President of wei gave a lift! He never thought that a boy of twelve or three was so ambitious and ambitious! He opened his eyes wide and asked, "why do you say that again?"

"Reading for the rise of China!"

The young Zhou Enlai realized then that the Chinese should not be bullied by imperialists to revitalize China. Read books, and that is the goal.

In the summer of 1913, zhou Enlai came to tianjin for the first time. He was only 15 years old. This summer, he failed because of the oral English examination unqualified first choice - Beijing tsinghua school entrance exam, his second volunteer in tianjin nankai school accepted him. Tianjin nankai high school is a private school founded by famous scholar yan xiu in late qing dynasty. When zhou Enlai came into the south, the actual head of the school was zhang boling. With experience abroad, he is not advocating a simple from test scores to assess students, more emphasis on art and so on various aspects of morality, intelligence and physique of students all-around development, which makes the air of freedom, democracy fills in the modern school garden is famous for not hidebound. The lively atmosphere of nankai infected him, which gradually changed him. By taking part in group activities and making friends, he is less shy; By joining the Chinese association, he practiced eloquence and writing skills. Not only that, he was chosen by the school's drama troupe, which starred in "the family of dolls", "one dollar", "one man's head" and "xin cun zheng".In his later political career, he was trained to use stage skills to shout for the future of the nation. Students are supposed to be academically heavy, but who can concentrate on books at the threshold of national destruction? This is especially true of zhou Enlai, who is full of patriotic blood. In fact, in 1915, after the signing of "twenty one", he showed great patriotism. In August of that year, hot summer, zhou Enlai twice as representatives of nankai middle school students in tianjin hebei park in tianjin groups to protest against "article 21" rally speech activity, pressure on the authorities. When he spoke of the excitement, he was so indignant that he was in tears.

  In late 1920, zhou Enlai left tianjin shortly after his release from prison and went to work in France. At this time, his connection with tianjin was not interrupted. He worked as an overseas reporter of the yishi newspaper to convey the situation of foreign countries to tianjin. Stay in touch with his lover, deng yingchao.

Revolutionary Road

Zhou Enlai is not a good general; however, he used his pen and his mind as his warrior to fight. At the time, zhou Enlai and Yang hansheng proposed the establishment of "the national association for the arts and arts of China" (hereinafter referred to as the national civil society). Zhou Enlai immediately thought of Lao she, he was also full of patriotism, he was about to devote himself to the work of the anti-japanese national salvation. At that time, Lao she lived in the home of general feng yuxiang, and zhou Enlai went to visit Lao she in person to establish the national association for the Anti-Japanese War. This is a fully private organization, led by the chief executive in the name of the general. No provision was made at the beginning of the preparatory process, donated by general feng yuxiang. It was proclaimed in March 1938.Zhou Enlai and feng yuxiang were elected honorary presidents at the inaugural meeting.At that time, kong luo sun, leaf, hu feng and other active participation in the work. Wuhan will always move to chongqing after being lost.Later, MAO dun, bing xin, ba jin all participated in the various activities of the national association. Nie a crossbow, ge a rainbow and other works in the association. The editors published the literature of Anti-Japanese War and literature, including the kuomintang literati wang pingling and cui wanqiu. At the same time, local chapters are set up. In yan 'an, the "literary and art world anti-enemy association" was also established in yan 'an, led by ding ling. During the eight years of resistance, the national association of cultural and cultural associations and the people of all parts of the country have united the power of the arts and the world and played an important role under the banner of patriotism.

Cultural Revolution

In my point of view, Zhou Enlai did a very important role in Cultural Revolution. Many important workers would die at that time without Zhou Enlai. The "cultural revolution" campaign for the last 10 years, there are all kinds of sports interwoven, such as: red guards movement, the number of "upstream" in February, corrects the bucket movement, batch rectification, paying, the right-leaning resurgence, Chen back right FanAnFeng, and so on. These movements, under MAO's call and under the great banner of the "cultural revolution", affected all aspects of the country, making the society long and volatile.1967 years later, after zhou Enlai, the large amount of work in MAO zedong, under the approval of the central launches to maintain social order, to ensure that national supplies equipment, the command of people's life and property safety, adopt measures to protect foreign embassies and consulates, and foreign nationals, and decided to some of the most of provinces, municipalities and the party and government departments under military control. All of this has poured into the heart of zhou Enlai, which in the end caused a serious mess to be contained in early 1968.But because MAO zedong insisted that a "continuing revolution under the dictatorship of the proletariat" to Lin biao, jiang qing and the destruction of the two groups, the movement may not like MAO zedong thought over two or three years, but dragged on for 10 years. Because of the existence of zhou Enlai and hard-working, patient, and to a certain extent, slow down the historic disaster strike, and maintain the normal operation of the party and state machine.

Zhou Enlai’s Great wisdom

During the cultural revolution, a group of red guards in the city of sheyang, jiangsu province, visited Beijing and premier zhou received them. The red guards asked for the name of the county to be changed, citing the word "shooting Yang". After listening to them, premier zhou laughed. They did not understand why the prime minister was laughing and a few eyes on the prime minister's face. The premier said: "the two words are very good, I see not to change." You guys are going to look at the question, why don't you look at the positive side and the negative side? I say "shoot Yang" two words very good, because my opinion, is not an arrow shot red sun, but the red sun is radiant. Premier zhou was so afraid that they could not hear clearly, and repeated a word of explanation to the sun. The sun was shining in the red sun." And he laughed again. The red guards also laughed because they were convinced by the prime minister's speech that it was better known as the county.

Premier zhou hosted a banquet for foreign guests. A soup dish, the winter bamboo shoots are carved according to the national pattern, and a turn in the soup turns into a symbol of fascism. When the visitor saw this, he was shocked. Premier zhou also felt suddenly, but he calmly explained, "this is not a symbol of fascism! This is a pattern in our Chinese tradition, the meaning of 'wan', symbolizing 'longevity and longevity', is a good wish for the guests! Then he quipped, "it's not even a fascist symbol! Let us all come together to destroy the fascists and eat it!" The speaker laughed, and the atmosphere was more intense, and the soup was polished by the guests.

"Chinese people like to walk with their heads down, while we americans always walk with our heads up," a former official said in front of premier zhou during his delegation's visit to China. The words surprised four people. Premier zhou was not in a hurry, and said with a smile, "this is not surprising. Because we Chinese like to go uphill, and you americans like to go downhill." A foreign reporter once asked zhou Enlai, "why do you call the road when you are in China?" Premier zhou replied without hesitation: "we are going on a marxist road, short for roads."