#theoretically if someone here knows how to dance they can teach me

[linkemon]

Dance, you fool, dance (Adrien Agreste x Marinette Dupain-Cheng) [Cinderella AU]

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❖ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴄɪɴᴅᴇʀᴇʟʟᴀ ᴀᴜ, ʜᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪꜱɴᴇʏ ᴠᴇʀꜱɪᴏɴ ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀɪᴍᴍ ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀꜱ ᴏɴᴇ (ᴍᴏʀᴇ ʙʀᴜᴛᴀʟ). ❖ ᴏɴᴇꜱʜᴏᴛ ɪꜱ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ 8ᴋ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ.

ᴘʟᴀɢɢ ᴡᴀɴᴛꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴀᴅʀɪᴇɴ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴢᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜɪꜱ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ʟᴀᴅʏʙᴜɢ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴅᴏᴏᴍᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ꜰᴀɪʟᴜʀᴇ. ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏɴᴠɪɴᴄᴇ ʜɪᴍ, ʜᴇ ᴛᴇʟʟꜱ ᴀɴ ᴏʟᴅ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀʀɪɴᴇᴛᴛᴇ — ᴀ ᴘᴏᴏʀ ɢɪʀʟ ᴡʜᴏ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ᴜᴘᴏɴ ᴀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴛʀɪᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏᴍʙɪɴᴇ ʜᴇʀ ᴅᴇꜱɪʀᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴅᴜᴛɪᴇꜱ ᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄɪᴛʏ'ꜱ ʜᴇʀᴏɪɴᴇ…

Adrien went out onto the balcony. A cool wind caressed his face. He felt a shiver. He didn't know if it was because of the cold breeze or the excitement. He decided to enjoy the last rays of sunshine for a moment longer. He sighed quietly and pressed the pink Valentine to his chest. The carefully cut, tiny heart stirred great emotions in him. Compared to the rest of the letters and gifts, these few simple sentences touched his heart. He wanted to believe strongly that it was Ladybug who wrote them. After all, it was her trademark that had flown off the decorative card a moment ago. How had she done it? He had no idea.

The spotted insect brought happiness. Just as it should. The boy felt a pleasant warmth around his heart. He didn't even notice the moment when a smile appeared on his face. It happened naturally. Just like when his mother was still alive. The big, cold house didn't seem as empty as it had a moment ago.

— You should give it a rest. — Plagg's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.  

The owner of the miraculous looked at him in disbelief.  

— It's enough that my father doesn't care about me. At least you could support me — Adrien said reproachfully.  

The kwami ​​circled his head and hung upside down in the air. He waved his black tail. He only did that when he was really pissed off or hungry. Or both…  

— I'm sorry. I'm just worried about you — he snorted.  

— My feelings are sincere…— the teenager began.  

They could be. But that didn't change the fact that he was a fool in love.

His interlocutor stopped listening after the first few words. The kwami ​​knew where this monologue was leading. A dead end with no way out. No room for discussion. They had been through this many times. It always ended the same way. Agreste refused to accept that Ladybug wasn't interested in him. He simply tried harder than he had before. He couldn't see how different they were. Or how much he had submitted to her as Cat Noir. He should have solved his own problems first and take care of his own life. It wasn't healthy.  

Love can be beautiful but it's also often destructive. The superpower of destruction should teach him something after all this time. Not everyone is destined to live a long and happy life. Sometimes it's better to let go and look elsewhere. Happiness can be found anywhere but time is limited.

— You’ve failed in all of your lives — Plagg muttered.

He looked into his school bag for camembert. He had already eaten the entire supply. There were only leftovers. He unwrapped the wrapper with sadness, inhaling his favourite scent. He touched the soft, yellow interior with his paw. It didn't look like he would get another portion of the delicacy anytime soon.  

— What do you mean? — The boy walked back into the room.  

— Nothing like that. — The glutton swallowed the stinking cheese. — Forget about it.  

He hoped the subject would be closed. He shouldn't have said that. Such things should be kept a secret. Nothing good ever came of that knowledge. Master Fu forbade him from talking about it.  

— If you could elaborate, then theoretically we could talk about my participation in the camembert campaign. There's supposed to be a whole truckload. Someone has to eat it after the photos. I'm sure they'd like to treat us to it...  

A modeling career at a young age was never easy. It involved a lot of sacrifice and hard work. Sometimes, however, it turned out to be useful. 

Green eyes flicked to his for a moment. He knew immediately that the kwami ​​had caught the bait. His only real weakness was food.  

— I shouldn't... But then again... I could get a whole truckload of cheese...— he mused.  

The internal battle did not last very long.  

— So what’s it going to be? — Adrien pulled his smartphone out from under a pile of Valentine’s Day gifts. — Should I let them know I agree?

He received an eager nod.

He wrote a text message, then sat down on the couch. The maid brought tea. He took a sip of the warm drink. The taste of lemon and honey spread pleasantly down his throat. It warmed from the inside, bringing memories of past, better days.  

Red and pink didn't fit in this room. They seemed to irritate the eyes. All these declarations of love were useless to Agreste. He only wanted reciprocity from one person. He had already given himself to the lady of his heart. He helped her as much as he could and supported her. She trusted him. He could feel it. He was ready for anything. He unwaveringly believed that this wouldn't change. He simply needed to double his efforts. One day he would get through to her.

 Outside the window, a bright moon was already beginning to reign. It was accompanied by twinkling constellations against the dark sky. For a moment, the boy hoped that he might see a shooting star. But nothing of the sort happened. Life was no fairy tale. Nothing and no one would fulfill his wishes for him. He had to do it himself.

The teenager grabbed a large, gray blanket from the closet. He snuggled into the soft material, feeling tired after the day. Plagg sat down next to him, claiming a piece for himself. He shifted restlessly, trying to find a comfortable position. It took him a long time to gather himself to start the story.

— You're not the first Chat Noir I've ever known. There were others before you. That's why I know you and Ladybug aren't meant to be together. — He rubbed his face with his paw. — I'll tell you all their stories. Maybe it'll talk some sense into you. And if not...— sadness settled on his face — your love will end in disaster. As always...

Marinette carefully placed the tray of cookies on the counter. She looked at her creations with a critical eye. She was still a little short of her father's level. The girl tried her best but he had left very few recipes. He probably hadn't expected to ever need them written down. Everything should be in your head. That's what he always told her.

She savored the smell of yeast dough for a moment. It made her feel safe. She spent the entire day thinking about her troubles. She ate a colourful macaroon from the display to cheer herself up. She missed Tikki. She always knew what to do and how to comfort her. 

She adjusted her apron and began taking another batch of sweets out of the oven.

— You won't believe what's happening! — Alya burst into the bakery excitedly. 

The girl almost dropped the pastries at the sight of her friend. Instead, she touched the hot baking sheet with her finger. She hissed with pain and quickly dipped her finger in the cold water from the bucket. Thing weren't going well at work. If she could even call working for free work. 

— The article is in print now, so I can finally tell you! — Césaire waved a piece of paper covered in ink.

She got down to work, as energetic as ever. Marinette sincerely admired her friend. In a world where men ruled, she found the time and strength to fulfill her dreams. She openly challenged them, laughing in their faces. She intended to get into the most widely read magazine in the country. Many would say that it was a lofty dream but she didn't let it intimidate her. She worked in a pastry shop and in her free time she wrote articles. For now, only for the local newspaper but it was a start. 

— The prince is organizing another ball — the writer chattered happily. — I couldn't tell you earlier because it was forbidden. Yesterday the palace guards came. They said to write about it by order of the king himself, do you understand? I was so lucky to be in this hole after hours. I spent the whole night writing an article... Are you even listening to me? — she asked, dissatisfied. 

Not hearing the answer, she just sighed and went to serve the customers.

Dupain-Cheng read the printed page over and over again, wondering if she was dreaming all this. The solution to all her problems practically fell from the sky. Prince Adrien was looking for the mysterious lady from the two previous masquerades. He hoped she would come to collect the earring that had been found on the stairs. The baker squeezed the note tighter, following the next sentences. He was proposing marriage to the stranger. She covered mouth with her hand, not believing her own happiness. That had to mean that he reciprocated her feelings. Even after she had confessed the truth about her origins. After all, he had explicitly invited all the girls in the city, including the lowly ones. A pleasant warmth spread through her chest. He was thinking about her and wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. She was beside herself with joy. 

But then she remembered her promise to Tikki. No one could find out Ladybug's identity. The heroine of Paris was to remain a secret to all people. So how was she supposed to get married if she couldn't tell His Royal Highness the truth? The euphoria was replaced by fading hope. She had a duty. She should keep her word to keep the city safe. She was also doing it for her beloved, although with a heavy heart. 

She made a decision. She would go to the ball and get her kwami ​​back. She would try to explain everything to Adrien. If he loved her, he would understand. Or maybe he would even wait, if one day the city would no longer need her. Then she could really think about the wedding. But she didn't count on that much happiness. 

— Marineeeeeette! — Chloé screamed from upstairs.

She ran up the already ruined stairs. The whole house needed renovation but it would have to wait. Like all the other expenses. If only the girl's father hadn't remarried, perhaps her life would have been completely different. She kept telling him that Audrey wasn't wife material. There were rumors that the mayor's widow had somehow gotten rid of her previous husband. She had inherited a considerable fortune from him. However, she had spent it all surprisingly quickly. She saw her chance for a better life in Tom. Despite his protests, the marriage was concluded. Shortly after, the man who had been head over heels in love died. He left behind a bakery and an almost empty chest. Marinette wondered if it could have been murder. It wasn't that hard to get poison if you knew where to look. Bribing a doctor wasn't a problem either. Ultimately, however, Marinette decided that such a venture wouldn't make sense. Bourgeois knew perfectly well how much money was left. Besides, she had never intended to run a business. This situation didn't help her in any way. And unlike her daughter, she did nothing out of pure malice but out of a desire for profit.

The girl pushed the creaking door open. She looked at the room and cursed under her breath. She had only just cleaned yesterday. And today the floor was covered with every possible outfit. Dresses and petticoats were spilling out of the wide open old oak wardrobe. Between them were frames and dozens of pairs of colourful shoes. A few ribbons flew out the window because of the draft. She turned her gaze to the dressing table. She didn't look any better. Earrings, beads and necklaces were scattered in disarray. A black, skinny cat was nudging one of the trinkets with its paw. It wagged its tail happily whenever it managed to hit the target. In the middle of the mess stood her dissatisfied stepsister. She took a deep breath. Another scream was coming. However, her mother reprimanded her with a look. She tightened the corset. With a deft movement, she began to lace it. Marinette watched with satisfaction as Chloé suffered.

— I'm glad you're here — Audrey said. 

She looked at her stepdaughter's reflection in the mirror. A look full of contempt. She no longer had to hide it. White flour and black hands. This was what messing around in the bakery ended up like. She promised herself she would never stoop to that level. She had survived this long, she would manage now. All she had to do was get the money. And then she would leave this filthy dump. She would sell the place to the first buyer she came across. She would forget she had ever had to endure this town. The villagers accused anyone who suddenly found themselves better off of murder. No one was looking from her perspective. If their last resort had been a relationship with an aging, fat baker, they would have done what she had done without hesitation. Fortunately, it would all be over soon. She had almost reached her destination. 

— Chloé needs a new dress for the next ball. 

— How do you know about the ball? — Marinette couldn't contain her surprise. 

Alya had just come in with the article. The papers were still in print. 

— Don't ask stupid questions — said the sister, trying to hold back the tears that were welling up in her eyes. — It's obvious that mother knows everything that goes on here.

— We have no money — said the baker.

She should have said: "You don't have any money." She managed to save up a little. Unfortunately, only from tips. The rest of the budget was controlled by Bourgeois. It looked more or less like she was spending at an alarming rate what her employees had worked hard for. She had no idea how to manage money. Suppliers looked at her with disdain. The decline in product quality meant worse baked goods. And that, in turn, translated into customers and low revenue. It wouldn't have been a tragedy if she hadn't been so wasteful. Unfortunately, it all went to her spoiled daughter. 

Marinette still couldn't believe her father had left her out of the will. Someone had probably forged it but without hard evidence she had no chance. The courts had strangely turned against the poorer citizens more than once. All she could do was try to make ends meet. One day she would quit her job and leave but not yet. 

— We won't ask for a seamstress. You take care of it — Audrey finally turned to her. 

— I have a lot of work at the bakery…— the girl began. 

— Césaire will take care of it — the woman interrupted. — Get to work.

The baker looked into the cold blue eyes. She was ready to protest but then an idea came to her mind. Perfect. It would solve all her problems. She must have been exceptionally lucky today. 

— Only if you take me to the ball with you. — She lifted her chin high.

She might be a total loser but a lot depended on it. Especially her future life and the fate of Tikki. She wouldn't let herself be used. Not this time. She would act like Ladybug. It had to work. 

The woman stood in silence for a moment. She considered the offer. She glanced at her daughter out of the corner of her eye. She put a finger to her lips, seeing that she was going to say something. Audrey was sick and tired of everything. She wouldn't let such an opportunity slip under her nose for a stupid reason. 

— I agree. — She nodded and went back to looking through the pile of clothes.

Marinette congratulated herself. For once she had succeeded at something. And without a miraculous. She felt her confidence grow. She had a chance to play this whole situation right. 

The girl looked at her hands. They were all pricked and red. Her fingers were numb from holding the needle all the time. She picked up the dress. Marinette looked at her design critically. She wanted to ruin it on purpose but Audrey wasn't stupid. If it didn't meet the standards, she could say goodbye to the ride.

She still couldn't believe how she had made it in time. She had never sewn so fast in her life. She handed the clothes to her stepmother. On one hand, she was proud of them but on the other, the thought of whose hands all her hard work would end up in made her feel sick. 

Chloé had requested yellow and black fabric. The striped creation swayed with every step. Her sister had tied her hair into a tight bun decorated with gold combs. The longer you looked at her, the more she resembled a bee. Or better yet, a wasp. At least the former was useful. Meanwhile, the latter was much more vile…

— Be ready at seven. We won't wait — Audrey said as Marinette left the room. — Finally, all my problems will be over — she added quietly. 

The girl ran to the well. She wasn't as dirty as she had been when she spent her mornings at the bakery but she still needed a bath. She lugged several buckets of water up to the upper floor. Luckily, there was a tub nearby. Her stepsister had been soaking in it all morning. 

She shuddered as she dipped her foot. The water was freezing cold. She hadn't had time to heat it up. She forced herself and began scrubbing her skin. 

The question that kept recurring in her mind was: Why did her stepmother have such faith in her daughter's chances? Despite all her faults, she wasn't stupid. There was no reason she should have bet on her winnings. Chloé didn't have an earring and the prince barely remembered her. And yet, her mother acted as if she had this one in a bag.

Marinette began to comb her hair. The black, tangled strands gave way under the pressure of the brush. They dried very quickly in the warm summer air.

She looked out the dirty window. A carriage was parked outside the house. Every vehicle in the area had been booked as soon as the news had spread. Perhaps people were hoping to find a very similar earring and grab a chance at marriage. Or some simply wanted to see the palace with their own eyes. Even the oldest couldn’t remember the last time the common folk had been allowed to visit it. All they needed was an invitation, handed out exclusively to women and their families in all the larger squares. They were also informed that without proper attire, there was no point in coming. The guards had to weed out the girls somehow and the mysterious stranger had so far appeared in beautiful dresses. Adrien knew the truth but the town had been expecting a rich young lady.  

Wild roses were climbing the side of the building. Her favourite red flowers were growing just below the windowsill. She leaned over to pick one and tucked it behind her ear. That would have to do. She didn't have time to do an elaborate hairdo. The clock ticked quietly, counting down the seconds.

She went to the chest. She lifted the lid, hearing the familiar creaking of the hinges. She jumped away from it with a squeak. She didn't expect what she found inside at all. Mice were running around on the bottom. She felt disgust. She instinctively raised her hand to her mouth, feeling the vomit rising. The little creatures looked nasty. Some of them had traces of blood on their fur. They were pawing with their gray paws, biting into her dress. Marinette had no choice. She quickly dipped her hand in to pull out the dress. The red material was covered in round holes where small, sharp teeth had bitten through it. She looked around the storage room. Something flashed in the light of the setting sun. She looked at it closer. Gold glitter. And next to it, a remnant of some old cheese. It wasn't a coincidence. 

She ran out of the house in just her petticoat. 

— You’re not planning on going like that, are you? — Audrey seemed surprised. 

Her eyes showed she had no hand in this. Chloé's behaviour confirmed that she was the culprit. Golden particles shimmered as she climbed into the carriage. She turned and stuck out her tongue at the girl. 

— You…— Marinette began, clenching her fists. 

She felt anger rising in her. She took a deep breath to calm herself. Tikki always reminded her not to be angry. The akumas were just waiting for sadness and anger. And now, without her powers, she had no way to face them. 

— We can't wait — the stepmother said dryly. 

The coachman took these words as a sign to depart. He grabbed the reins. The pair of gray horses obediently took off. The black carriage left clouds of dust behind it. 

The girl stared at her smiling half-sister. She even had the nerve to mock her by sticking her head out the window. 

The sight should have broken her. Instead, she felt determined. She wouldn't let her win. She'd still take her down a peg by showing up at the ball. Besides, she had to get the miraculous back. She couldn't leave it in the palace. The kwami ​​was counting on her. 

She ran back home. She began nervously sorting through the things in Bourgeois's closet. She pulled out the remains of the black material. There wasn't much left but it should be enough. She took the scissors and with a deft movement cut out a dozen or so circles. She sewed them to the dress. They covered what the mice had chewed out. Delighted, she put the dress on. She spun around a few times, admiring her work. She looked like Ladybug again. Even if it wasn't her usual costume. 

This time, instead of the city, she was saving her own life.

There was still the matter of getting to the ball. She was already late. All the carriages in town had been booked. Besides, they had long since left. Some had set off into the centre of Paris first thing in the morning, fearing the crowds. The only means of transport she could think of was a horse. She didn’t have one. After all, the bakery didn’t need animals. But her neighbour, Max, kept one in a paddock nearby. He never looked after it. He was always playing games. Gambling had become second nature to him. His mind was full of ideas for his own versions of chess or cards but no one understood their rules. So he put all his creative work aside, focusing on the standard winnings to get by. On an evening like this, he sat and earned money, depriving people of their fortunes. A faint glow of light could be seen in the window of his house. 

Marinette looked around the street nervously. There wasn't a soul in sight. As she opened the gate in the fence, she felt a pang of guilt. She had never robbed anyone before. And certainly not for her own gain. Sometimes she destroyed things borrowed from the locals when she fought villains but everything always went back to normal after they were defeated. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She was doing this for the city. After all, who would save it when her powers ran out?

She released the bay horse. Riding bareback was no easy feat. She clung tightly to the brown-red mane. She urged the horse along the cobblestone streets, praying that no one would look out the window.

As she entered the forest, she felt uneasy. The darkness was only illuminated by the light of the crescent moon. The beaten track was covered with a few leaves. The branches of the trees creaked in the gentle wind. Dust rose from under her hooves as she urged her stallion to ride faster. Time was running out and she was already late.

What exactly should she tell the prince when he got there? She didn't want to break his heart so much. Their acquaintance didn't last long and yet something sparked between them. They met at a ball thrown by his father. A dozen or so times after that. She never told him how she managed to sneak under the guards' noses. It was her secret. They talked all night long. About trivial and serious topics. Until one day he kissed her. She smiled to herself at the memory. How wonderful it would be to be able to repeat this every day. To fall asleep and wake up next to him. To share her life. To comfort him in sadness. To be the one he turned to with everything. His kindness always moved her deeply. She saw how he treated others. Once she was fighting in the palace. Instead of saving himself, he shielded a maid who didn't manage to escape in time. Adrien was special. She was sure of that but did she have the right to stand by his side? She accepted the duty. She swore not to break her promise to Tikki. 

The glow from the palace illuminated the darkness of the night. She had seen this building hundreds of times but it amazed her every time. Its vastness made her feel tiny. Massive, old, stone walls. Countless hundreds of windows and doors. Rooms where one could easily get lost. Like a huge labyrinth full of splendor. 

She drove through the guard station without any problems. Many guests were coming and going through the main gate. She tied the bay horse to one of the free posts. She hoped no one would steal it. Many thieves were just waiting for such an opportunity. Coachmen or servants guarded the carriages but the poorer ones had to rely on themselves. Some came with their families. She saw people changing each other. They probably came after the party to stand guard. Sometimes the horses were their most valuable possessions. No wonder they were so well looked after. If they didn't have them to plow the fields, they would suffer from hunger. Despite this, they wanted to try their luck. Marrying a prince could change anyone's fate. 

She walked through the garden, wondering how it looked from a different perspective. Up until now, she had only seen it from above. Being a Ladybug had its advantages but she missed out on truly beautiful views. She was especially pleased with her favourite flowers. The main alley was planted with roses. Multicoloured buds created colourful carpets. Butterflies danced above them, fluttering their wings impatiently. They reluctantly ran away from the guests strolling under the moonlight. 

Marinette climbed the grand marble staircase. She put on a red mask and tied a ribbon. When she reached the palace gates, she felt proud. She was already close to her destination. 

— Please step back. — The calm and formal tone made her stop in her tracks. 

A tall woman stood in front of the entrance. Her black hair was tied in a bun. She had glasses on her nose, which she adjusted every now and then with a quick, businesslike movement. In her blue dress, she resembled a peacock. Long feathers were cleverly pinned under the corset. She would have looked beautiful if not for the severe expression on her face. 

— Of course. — She smiled nervously. — Here's the invitation.

— You misunderstood me, miss. No more people will be allowed in here today — the strange guard announced. 

— Excuse me? — Marinette felt something twist inside her. 

She was almost there. She was so close to getting her miraculous back. 

— That's right. You should have come earlier — the woman sighed. 

Nathalie was sick and tired of everything. She had been standing in the doorway all evening, checking on the guests. The king himself had asked her to do it. She couldn't refuse him. Everyone at court was already gossiping about her behind her back. Many men were vying for the position of advisor. They had commented on her gender more than once. If she had given them a reason, they would have kicked her out. So she patiently endured the boring task. Nothing irritated her more than being late and besides, the guards had asked her not to let anyone else in. So for the past hour, she had been turning away anyone who had even thought of coming at such an hour. 

Besides, the gracious ruler Gabriel Agreste had no desire to marry his son off to his dream bride. He had his own plans for that but knowing the prince's stubbornness, he promised him this privilege. In return, he had to behave responsibly and promise to take the crown. He had rebelled more than once, much to his father's chagrin. 

So the ball continued, and Sancoeur felt her patience slowly wearing thin. 

— Look what’s going on over there. — She pointed resignedly toward the ballroom. 

Marinette followed her gaze. To her surprise, few people were dancing. Unlike the previous parties, the music wasn't lively or cheerful but perfectly quiet. Just right for conversation. Some people were standing at tables with food. Some weren't even hiding putting it in their bags. They must have been poorer residents who decided to invest in the opportunity. Food prices had skyrocketed since the attacks on the city began. Importing exotic food cost a fortune. Probably more than one thief had also robbed someone of jewelry or money. This was the perfect moment. 

The throne was placed in front of the entrance. The king was nowhere to be seen but Adrien was sitting right next to him. Dressed in black and green, he spoke to the guests with sadness on his face. Only when looking at him did Marinette understand what was going on. A line of girls and women of all ages was winding in front of the dais. One by one, they approached to show him their jewelry. The search for the earring was still ongoing. 

— But I have to go in there! — she protested. 

She lifted her skirt and started running. She passed the woman but she didn't get far. 

— Guards! 

Two strong men grabbed her by the arms, pulling her toward the stairs. She struggled, trying to get another few meters. She was aware that everyone was looking at her but it didn't matter. What mattered was her lover, standing on the other side of the room. 

— Let me go! 

— Why not? — the man cackled. 

His gorilla-like frame towered over everyone gathered there. 

— Because I’m Ladybug, damn it! — Marinette screamed.

It wasn't until the sentence had left her mouth that she realized what she had done. She froze, processing what she had said in her head. Most of the guests had already gone back to their own business but the guard looked at her more closely, raising an eyebrow. 

— Leave her alone! — She had never been so glad to hear the sound of someone’s voice as she was at that moment. 

He stood before her. His blond hair reflected the glow of the candles from all the chandeliers. She wanted to ruffle it, like she always did when they were alone. He stood out from the crowd in his dark, formal uniform. He looked even more handsome than ever, though she was sure that was impossible. But the most beautiful thing was his smile. The corners of his mouth turned up as he recognized her despite her new dress and mask. 

— You're late — Adrien whispered. 

The hint of amusement quickly faded, though. He held out his hand, holding a red earring with black dots. He wanted confirmation. He had to know if it was really her. 

She felt bad that he had to wait for her so long. She held out the second one to pair up. The boy raised his head. There was so much warmth and hope in his gaze. She wasn't sure if anyone had ever looked at her like that before. As if she was his whole world. 

She reached out for her own. This wasn't the time to lose herself in a feeling she couldn't have. She was here for Tikki and she should be the priority. 

To her surprise, Adrien clenched his fist and withdrew his hand. She looked at him questioningly. 

— I'm afraid... that if I give you this earring — he took a breath — you'll leave...

How close to the truth he was... It was exactly what she should have done and yet her heart ached for him. The thought of leaving him made her feel awful. So she kept quiet, not wanting to spoil anything. 

— Will you dance with me? — he asked. 

She nodded, unable to utter a single word. 

She thought about how perfectly their fingers intertwined. A pleasant warmth spread through her body when he pulled her closer to him. A pleasant shiver ran through the place where he touched her waist. Green eyes stared at her the whole time. They spun together to a calm melody. She didn't know all the steps but it didn't matter. She felt safe in his arms. Responsibilities disappeared. There was pure joy left. She looked at his face shyly, trying to gather her thoughts. He made her head spin. How wonderful it would be to stand by this man's side in front of the altar. She wanted to become his support. To be the confidant of his secrets. The only person she would ever love. The vision of a prince in the arms of another woman couldn't form in her imagination. It hurt too much. 

— You were shouting earlier... — the prince hesitated. — Were you trying to get my attention or are you really the Ladybug? 

Marinette stumbled. He grabbed her by the waist and lifted her back up. She knew that was enough for the answer.

— What if I am? — She looked up.

She was afraid. Although she didn't want to admit it to herself. She was afraid of revealing this secret but she was even more afraid of being rejected. 

— Just one more reason to love you. — Adrien snuggled into the crook of her neck. 

She sighed with relief. A smile crept onto her lips. She couldn't stop it. 

— Don't worry. I won't tell anyone. — The boy placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. 

She smelled the roses. A sweet, rich scent. He must have been walking in the garden earlier. She felt safe, breathing in that familiar fragrance It reminded her of all the nights they spent together. The furtive glances, the shy grasping of hands and the pearly laughter that carried over the palace towers. 

The violinist finished playing sad notes. The last notes dispersed into the air. The hall was once again swarming with curious glances. Whispers of conversation carried in the silence. The spell of the moment was broken. 

— How do you imagine that? — The girl took a step away from her partner. — How would I marry you? 

— Everything will work out somehow — he assured. — The important thing is that we have each other.

This wasn't the answer she was expecting. She was already having trouble hiding her identity. Taking on the crown required being the center of attention. How would she sneak away to fight evil? When would she ever find the time? New duties, etiquette and responsibility for her subjects... It was a high price to pay for love. 

And yet Adrien's words, though stupidly naive, seemed beautiful in their simplicity. Maybe she was worrying too much about everything? After all, she, too, deserved happiness. If she didn't reach for it, she would only have herself to blame. 

— I'd like to give you more time to think but I don't have it. — The prince nodded toward the throne. — Wait for me by the fountain. No one will disturb us there.

He handed the earrings back, enjoying her touch for a long moment. He turned to leave but stopped for a moment and added: 

— No matter what you choose, I hope you'll be happy.

Marinette stood in the middle of the room for a moment, dumbfounded. She knew why he had gone. He had intended to bring his mother's engagement ring. The late Queen Emilie had left it behind for her son to pass on. The girl had only heard about it once but she hadn't asked for details. This conversation was causing her beloved pain. She preferred not to press. However, she was aware of how important it was to him. 

She headed for the garden. The fountain was their secret meeting place. When they felt like being outdoors, they would evade the guards and spend hours gazing at the stars. 

The girl sat down on one of the benches. The gray stone was already chipped. The gardeners almost never came here, so nothing was repaired. It was one of the few wild corners on the estate. This allowed the plants to climb freely around the dirty poles. They formed a messy tangle, wrapping themselves around everything they encountered. 

The girl put on the earrings. A wave of relief washed over her as Tikki appeared above the water. The kwami ​​somersaulted over the multi-tiered fountain. 

— Marinette! — she screamed, clinging to her chest. 

The owner of the miraculous embraced her gently. Now, with her powers back, she could face everything. She told her little friend about what had happened. Mainly to prepare her for the shock. The disbelief with which she looked at her when she realized that a new person was sharing the secret was enormous. Ladybug understood the agitation. It reached its peak when she announced her decision: 

— I intend to accept the proposal — she said seriously. 

— You can't! — The reaction was immediate. — It won't work! 

Tikki grabbed her finger possessively. The rule about not revealing identity was made for obvious reasons. It was meant to protect its users and therefore had to be followed. It had been that way since the dawn of time. No one had ever tried to change it. 

— Adrien already knows — Marinette picked a lone wild rose. She turned it over between her fingers — and besides, I could help a lot of people.

Everyone. From women like Alya, who couldn't make it in a man's world. To people like Max, trapped by addiction. To people barely making ends meet. Subsidies for the poor and meals for the hungry. They could all have a better life. Besides, finding Hawk Moth with the help of the royal guards might be a lot easier than finding him alone. She would have spies at her disposal, along with an army. That way, she would solve all her problems. 

She knew she was looking for arguments to convince herself that she was making the right choice and yet she couldn't help herself. She wanted as many things as possible to speak in favour of her decision. 

— Someone’s coming — the kwami ​​squeaked. 

This interrupted the conversation. 

— Hide — the girl ordered. 

The mere thought of the prince asking her to marry him sent butterflies through her stomach. Her heart was pounding but she decided to stick to her decision. She would make it. She would marry the love of her life and reconcile that with the protection of the city. She would have support and then she would be able to bear it all. 

Marinette didn't expect the figure that emerged from behind the thick bush. The moon hid its face behind the clouds. It was as if it didn't want to watch what was happening. A purple streak moved in the dark night so quickly that the girl barely had time to register it. A blade flashed. Blood gushed from the open carotid artery. Blood flooded her eyes. Blinded, she tripped over something that was probably a root. The victim's terror was reflected in the fountain's surface as the red stream mixed with the dark water. The girl tried to croak out anything but no words wanted to leave her throat. Instead, a wheezing whistle played the last mournful melody of her life. A short, unfinished note. Marinette couldn't see the attacker. She desperately stretched her hands out in front of her. As if that could change anything. Fear filled every corner of her mind. She became desperately aware of how much the human body could hurt. Was she really that fragile? She struggled, trying to do something. Anything to stop it. No breath brought relief. A suffocating stench filled her nostrils. She no longer knew if it was blood or the scent of roses. Everything mixed in an uneasy madness. She swallowed back tears, feeling her head fall back onto the cold, hard pavement. Lying down was better. There was no point in fighting the inevitable. Her arms and legs wouldn't listen to her. No matter how much she screamed in her mind to move even a single limb. No one and nothing was under her control anymore. The red world was covered in black dots.

Chloè looked at the king with terror in her eyes. Her future father-in-law was a monster. No other word fit the image. Seeing the bloody massacre, she couldn't stop vomiting. Her stomach rebelled and she threw up everything she had eaten at the banquet. The goo stained her dress. Her mother looked at her reproachfully but said nothing. She had more important things to worry about. Audrey extended her hand toward Gabriel. Two earrings rested on her palm. The Ladybug Miraculous was now in her possession. She had to play it right. Everything depended on the next few minutes. 

— How do I put them on? — the girl asked, looking at the jewelry gleaming in the night. 

She had never pierced her ears. She was afraid of the pain and even more so of the blood. 

— How could you have missed it? — Hawk Moth's face darkened with silent anger. — If she puts them on now, Adrien will know right away!

His son had to believe that this was the real Ladybug. Everyone would believe the heroine's words when she told how she was attacked when she came to collect her property. If that happened, no one would investigate the murder. The lying peasant would be forgotten as an object of gossip and slander. Even if the prince still felt sentimental about her, it wouldn't interfere. She was dead. Nothing could change that. Now the future ruler would marry someone worthy of his status and would stop causing trouble forever. 

— Easy. I have a plan. — The woman took the blade from his hand. — Honey, close your eyes — she told her daughter.

Her tone was calm and composed but the young Bourgeois sensed that there was something odd about the request. She instinctively took a step back. Audrey grabbed her hand, raising the blade. Fear grew stronger but she could not move. She stood as if spellbound, staring at her mother's face. 

— They’re just ears — the mother said, getting down to work.

— So how did you like the story? — Plagg pulled the blanket over himself. — I think it's scary.

Adrien looked at his kwami, raising an eyebrow. Maybe it was bordering on horror but in the safety of his apartment it didn't make that much of an impression on him. He'd probably get into the spirit of it on a class trip, by the bonfire but it certainly  would not be enough to keep him awake at night. Besides, Chat Noir shouldn't be afraid of stories like that.

— They would have gotten away with it if it weren't for...— Agreste began.

— meddling kids and dumb dog! — finished the black creature. — I watched that cartoon...

The boy laughed, patting him on the head. He should definitely limit his TV viewing.

— That’s not it. I meant the king — he corrected.

— You think it's his fault? — His little friend put his paw to his face. — You people always think differently...

He never fully understood the twists and turns they took to achieve their goals. Some things seemed much simpler to his kind. Like fate, which his owner tried so hard to fight.

— Whose fault is it, then? — Adrien asked, genuinely surprised.

— Stupid Ladybug, of course. — Plagg shrugged. — That's why there's a ban on revealing your identity. If she hadn't revealed herself, no one would have noticed. She should have left with the miraculous when she could.

— I understand what you're saying, but...— the blond hesitated.

— Still unconvinced?

He nodded.

— I've got more stories. I'm sure you'll like one of them. Now go to bed because you've got a chemistry test tomorrow.

Kwami was right. Mrs. Mendeleev didn't give any leniency and certainly not because of lack of sleep. He laid his head on the pillow but one question still haunted him:

— What happened next?

— The prince married Chloè. She lived comfortably with her mother, though not very happily. The king ruled until the peasants' resentment reached its peak. Rebels broke into the palace. They murdered everyone except the prince. It was around then that he found my miraculous. We wandered around but he never really took advantage of me. There was no need for that because the people rebuilt the city themselves from the ruins of the civil war and... You know what? To fall asleep at the very end? — The creature sighed and covered the sleeping boy carefully. 

[norwayblogging]

Week 14/08 - 20/08 14th august:

Today was the first day of the buddy week; a week where Norwegian 2nd year students organise activities for the first year students so they can get to know the school better. Before lunch, we had some theoretical lessons and the school prepared an opening ceremony since the new first years started today with their academic year. Us international students started a week earlier so that we could get to know our group a little better. The ceremony started and ended with small band of teachers who brought self made songs. Then we got some words of welcome from the principal, the major of Stord, the student association… After that we received some free lunch from the school. When we ate our lunch, we got picked up by our buddies and they gave us a nice tour around campus. It was nice to see all the posibilities that we have on campus, we can even loan a lot of things. Around dinnertime, everyone went back to their room to make themselves ready for a drinking/socialisation night with the Norwegian students. It was a lot of fun! I’m so excited for these next days!

15th august:

This morning, we had to practice CPR with the CPR dummies. (I gagged everytime I had to do a mouth to mouth with them since the smell of the rubber/plastic was too much for me) Boy was I glad that that was over. I made some egg salad for lunch 😋 and went to the gym not so long after that. I readied myself for the upcoming quiz that our buddies organised today. The quiz itself was really fun but unfortunately we didn’t win. A group full of other exchange students did win! We were all so happy for them! There was one really funny moment during the quiz itself where someone dressed as a frog came dancing around the room and I filmed it ofcourse! Later after the quiz one of the Norwegian students gave us free alcoholic drinks since they had too much and they were not going to drink it. It was so unbelievable since the alcohol here is quite expensive. (It will probably not last very long, mark my words).

16th august:

Gooday! I had a swimming test today, which was something I wasn’t exactly prepared for… We had to swim a distance in the fjords and dive 2 meters deep. (My teacher was really proud of me that I dared to swim a certain distance! Even if I couldn’t dive 😊) We went out this afternoon to release our fishing nets and crab traps. The teachers teached us how we should release them so we would have a chance of getting some seafood out of them. Later in the evening we did an outside activity called “farmengames” The buddie groups all competed with each other through little games such as tug of war, ropeskipping, frisbeeing, playing darts… At the end, each group got an amount of points and the group with the most, won. Again… we didn’t win but again… the group with a lot of exchangestudents did! It’s so funny since they won yesterday and now they’re winning again… it feels almost scripted really. Nevertheless, I love these buddy nights. They give me so many social opportunities!

17th august:

It was time to get the fishing nets and the crab traps back to the surface and to see what we all caught during the night. Surprisingly enough we caught a lot of fish and crabs! One of the crab traps sadly opened during the night which made the crabs escape when we hoisted them upwards. Nevertheless, we had a lot of seafood to prepare! The teachers showed us how we can clean the fish before we can cook them and how we can cook and eat the crabs. We made fish soup and ate some crab on bread with mayonnaise and lemon. (Yesssss I ate the crab too! It was so delicious!!) After cleaning up all of the messes, everyone went back to their rooms (smelling like fish 😫) and cleaned themselves up. Later that night we did a city walk where we explored the small village of Leirvik. The village is only 10 minutes by bus from campus so it’s really closeby. After the city walk, they had organised a small party in the local pub. Some of us darted a bit and danced, we even got 2 free drinks! We took the last bus back home but made a slight detour… We were with a total of 6 people and decided to go skinny dipping in the nearby fjords. I figured this was my only chance to ever skinny dip in the waters of Norway so I joined in! The water wasn’t even that cold! Completely soaked, we all went back to our rooms and said our goodnights to each other.

18th august:

On this sunny day a part of my group (including me) went kayaking. Putting on the wetsuit was a real challenge but I did manage to put it on all by myself. It was really hot too! I almost thought I was going to have a sunstroke for sure! Our teacher was very respectful and caring which is very nice for people who don’t really have a big experience in kayaking. We learned all the basics of the sport and how to save yourself and others. Later that night the buddies organised a karaoke night and guess what… 2 other exchange students and I stood on stage and sang a song! It was both terrifying and hilarious 🤣

19th august:

On this fine Saturday, I slept in (finally!). Throughout the day, I watched people play on the nintendo switch that you can borrow from the school (you can borrow a lot of stuff here! Things as; camera’s, computer related things, you can use the 3d printers here without any trouble…). and did some stuff on my own laptop. Approaching dinnertime, everyone ate, made themselves ready for the upcoming night and we started predrinking (Since the alcohol here is quite expensive, I didn’t really drink that much nor did I actually plan on drinking much here). After the predrink, we went to the student house where the buddies organised a party with loud music and disco lights. After some crazy dancing and socialising with the Norwegians, I took a small walk by the nearby water and went home short after.

20th august:

Sunday has come! I slept in again (🤭), did some stuff on my computer, went to the gym and made myself ready for the upcoming evening. This is the last day of buddy week😫. We did a movie night and we could choose which one. The winner was… The hunger games! I was really excited to watch it again. We got free soda and pizza that we could enjoy while watching the movie. Afterwards everyone went back to their rooms.

Week 14/07 - 20/07 14 augustus:

Vandaag was de eerste dag van de buddyweek; een week waarin Noorse 2e jaars studenten activiteiten organiseren voor de 1e jaars studenten zodat ze de school beter leren kennen. Voor de lunch hadden we wat theorielessen en de school bereidde een openingsceremonie voor omdat de nieuwe eerstejaars vandaag met hun studiejaar begonnen. Wij internationale studenten begonnen een week eerder zodat we onze groep wat beter konden leren kennen. De ceremonie begon en eindigde met een kleine band van leraren die zelfgemaakte liedjes brachten. Daarna kregen we enkele welkomstwoorden van de directeur, de burgemeester van Stord, de studentenvereniging… Daarna kregen we een gratis lunch van de school. Toen we onze lunch hadden opgegeten, werden we opgehaald door onze buddy's en kregen we een leuke rondleiding over de campus. Het was leuk om te zien welke mogelijkheden we allemaal hebben op de campus, we kunnen zelfs van alles lenen. Rond etenstijd ging iedereen terug naar zijn kamer om zich klaar te maken voor een drink/sociale avond met de Noorse studenten. Het was erg leuk! Ik heb zo'n zin in de komende dagen!

15 augustus:

Vanochtend moesten we reanimatie oefenen met de reanimatiepoppen. (Ik kokhalsde elke keer als ik mond op mond met ze moest doen, omdat de geur van het rubber/plastic te veel voor me was). Wat was ik blij dat het voorbij was. Ik maakte wat eiersalade voor de lunch 😋 en ging niet lang daarna naar de gym. Ik bereidde me voor op de quiz die onze vrienden vandaag organiseerden. De quiz zelf was erg leuk, maar helaas hebben we niet gewonnen. Een groep vol andere uitwisselingsstudenten won wel! We waren allemaal zo blij voor hen! Er was een heel grappig moment tijdens de quiz zelf toen iemand verkleed als kikker door de kamer kwam dansen en ik heb het natuurlijk gefilmd! Later na de quiz gaf een van de Noorse studenten ons gratis alcoholische drankjes omdat ze te veel hadden en het niet gingen opdrinken. Het was zo ongelooflijk omdat alcohol hier vrij duur is. (Het zal waarschijnlijk niet lang duren, let op mijn woorden).

16 augustus:

Gooday! Ik had vandaag een zwemtest, iets waar ik niet echt op voorbereid was… We moesten een afstand zwemmen in de fjorden en 2 meter diep duiken. (Mijn leraar was echt trots op me dat ik een bepaalde afstand durfde te zwemmen! Ook al kon ik niet duiken 😊) Vanmiddag gingen we onze visnetten en krabbenvallen uitzetten. De leraren leerden ons hoe we ze moesten uitzetten zodat we een kans hadden om er zeevruchten uit te halen. Later op de avond deden we een buitenactiviteit genaamd "boerderijspelletjes". De buddiegroepjes gingen allemaal de strijd met elkaar aan door middel van kleine spelletjes zoals touwtrekken, touwslingeren, frisbeeën, darten… Aan het eind kreeg elke groep een aantal punten en de groep met de meeste punten won. Weer… wij wonnen niet, maar weer… de groep met veel uitwisselingsstudenten wel! Het is zo grappig omdat zij gisteren wonnen en nu weer winnen… het voelt bijna gescript. Toch ben ik dol op deze buddy-avonden. Ze geven me zoveel sociale kansen!

17 augustus:

Het was tijd om de visnetten en krabbenvallen weer boven water te halen en te kijken wat we allemaal hadden gevangen tijdens de nacht. Verrassend genoeg hebben we veel vis en krabben gevangen! Een van de krabbenvallen ging helaas open tijdens de nacht, waardoor de krabben ontsnapten toen we ze omhoog hesen. Desondanks hadden we veel zeevruchten om te bereiden! De leraren lieten ons zien hoe we de vis schoon kunnen maken voordat we hem gaan koken en hoe we de krabben kunnen koken en eten. We maakten vissoep en aten krab op brood met mayonaise en citroen. (Yesssss, ik heb de krab ook opgegeten, hij was zo lekker!!) Nadat we alle rommel hadden opgeruimd, ging iedereen terug naar hun kamer (die naar vis rook 😫) en ruimden ze zichzelf op. Later die avond maakten we een stadswandeling waarbij we het kleine dorpje Leirvik verkenden. Het dorp ligt op slechts 10 minuten met de bus van de campus, dus het is echt dichtbij. Na de stadswandeling hadden ze een klein feestje georganiseerd in de plaatselijke pub. Sommigen van ons hebben een beetje gedart en gedanst, we kregen zelfs 2 gratis drankjes! We namen de laatste bus terug naar huis maar maakten een kleine omweg… We waren in totaal met 6 mensen en besloten te gaan naaktzwemmen in de nabijgelegen fjorden. Ik dacht dat dit mijn enige kans was om ooit naakt te zwemmen in het water van Noorwegen, dus ik deed mee! Het water was niet eens zo koud! Helemaal doorweekt gingen we allemaal terug naar onze kamers en namen we afscheid van elkaar.

18 augustus:

Op deze zonnige dag ging een deel van mijn groep (inclusief ikzelf) kajakken. Het wetsuit aantrekken was een echte uitdaging, maar het lukte me om het helemaal alleen aan te trekken. Wat was het ook warm! Ik verwachtte echt een zonnenslag te hebben! Onze leraar was erg respectvol en zorgzaam, wat erg fijn is voor mensen die niet echt veel ervaring hebben met kajakken. We leerden alle basisprincipes van de sport en hoe je jezelf en anderen kunt redden. Later die avond organiseerden de buddies een karaoke-avond en raad eens… 2 andere uitwisselingsstudenten en ik stonden op het podium en zongen een lied! Het was zowel angstaanjagend als hilarisch 🤣

19 augustus:

Op deze mooie zaterdag heb ik uitgeslapen (eindelijk!). De hele dag heb ik mensen zien spelen op de nintendo switch die je van school kunt lenen (je kunt hier van alles lenen! Dingen zoals; camera's, computer gerelateerde dingen, je kunt de 3d printers hier zonder problemen gebruiken…). en deed wat dingen op mijn eigen laptop. Toen het etenstijd was, at iedereen, maakten we ons klaar voor de komende avond en begonnen we met voordrinken (aangezien de alcohol hier vrij duur is, heb ik niet echt veel gedronken en was ik ook niet van plan om hier veel te drinken). Na het voordrinken gingen we naar het studentenhuis waar de buddies een feest organiseerden met harde muziek en discolampen. Na wat gek dansen en socializen met de Noren, maakte ik een kleine wandeling langs het nabijgelegen water en ging ik kort daarna naar huis.

20 augustus:

Zondag is aangebroken! Ik sliep weer uit (🤭), deed wat dingen op mijn computer, ging naar de sportschool en maakte mezelf klaar voor de komende avond. Dit is de laatste dag van de buddyweek😫. We hebben een filmavond gedaan en we mochten kiezen welke film. De winnaar was… The hunger games! Ik had er echt zin in om hem nog een keer te kijken. We kregen gratis frisdrank en pizza waar we van konden genieten terwijl we de film keken. Daarna ging iedereen terug naar zijn kamer.

[erasethenoise]

staying up late like an actual teenager except the room is too small and i wanna dance

[yuta-nakamots]

Playing Games - n.yt

Pairing - Frat Boy!Yuta x Reader

Genre - College!AU, Fluff, Smut, Slight Angst

Warnings - Safe sex, swearing, alcohol consumption

Summary - Yuta is a notorious frat boy known for sleeping around with tons of girls yet never getting into a relationship. You never would have thought you’d become entangled with him until fate ends up placing both of you in the same beginner guitar class during your spring semester.

Word Count - 11.2k

A/N - i do not condone or promote the behavior or fraternities or sororities, especially during COVID-19, read a bit about it here. i am simply writing about my own fantasy in my own ideal world. with that being said, please remember to wear your masks and stay safe out there. this one shot will be my first work with smut in it so i’m open to pretty much any and all feedback. special thank you to @neocitybynight​ for helping me work out some of the plot!

Tag List - @jisungismymom @jikooksgirl19 @jungcity @boiolay @yasmini24

Written for the Bingo Collab hosted by @legendnct​. Check out the masterlist here.

Prompts;

"Baby, I’m afraid to fall in love. ‘Cause what if it’s not reciprocated?” –  Pink Sweat$ - Honesty

“So won’t you say my name, say my name?”– summer walker - playing games

“Don’t follow me, you’ll end up in my arms” –  Joji - SLOW DANCING IN THE DARK

“Can you focus on me? Baby can you focus on me?”– H.E.R - focus

“Oh, how I love you. I just feel so lost without you.”–  McKay & Jeff Bernat - Angel 2 Me

It’s the first day of your second semester of college and you’re starting to rethink your decision of signing up for Guitar 101 as you step into the classroom. You don’t remember what pushed you to add this course to your schedule other than the fact that it would knock off two off your graduation requirements, though surely there were other courses that could’ve done that as well.

You were quite the beginner to guitar, having only touched one maybe only a few times in your life and you were sure that you absolutely would not have ever thought about taking Guitar 101 if it wasn’t for your friend Mark, who had suggested it to you.

Mark is a sweet guy and you just so happened to have the pleasure of meeting last semester in your math class. He had walked in late on the first day and took the seat next to you as he muttered something about the campus being too big and not having building names displayed clearly.

Your friendship truly started the day he came in without any of his belongings, not even his backpack. “I, uh, woke up late and ran to class. Literally.” You could tell from the way sections of his hair were standing up and how his white t-shirt was inside out, but you didn’t tell him that.

“If it’s okay with you, can you send me your notes later?” He asked, his eyes resembling that of boba. Mark let out an audible sigh of relief when you agreed and handed him your phone to type in his number. As soon as he gave it back to you, you sent him a message to make sure he typed it correctly and it was at that moment that Mark realized, after a whole month of sitting next to you and occasionally working together, he had yet to remember your name.

‘Hey, this is y/n. Still can’t believe you forgot your backpack’

The two of you fit together like puzzle pieces and you always did your work together at any given opportunity, finding that two heads are definitely better than one when it came to calculus.  Sometimes working on projects together often led to you and Mark spending more time together and eventually leading both of your guys’ friends to speculate that you were dating, to which you insisted was not true.

Your friends seemed to understand and leave it be, though Mark’s friends were a whole different story. He was part of one of the newest frats on campus which had come to fame due to their good-looking members, not a single one of them falling even a hair short of having god-tier visuals. You recognized a few of them, having been to their frat house a couple of times to work on projects with Mark though most of them were older than you so it came as a surprise to you when you saw one of them in your beginner guitar class.

You didn’t know his name but he was easy to remember with his long black hair and his ever-changing fashion sense. Today, he resembled something out of a motorcycle magazine with his maroon leather jacket, black ripped jeans, and the bandana tied around his head.

You watched as he took a seat in the front of the room though you had enough sense to turn your attention back to the professor who had started class and was displaying a list of names with corresponding locker numbers that housed the guitar you’d be using.

Standing up with the rest of the class, you went to go find your own locker and let out a sigh of relief when you saw it was on the bottom row because that meant less effort to take it in and out rather than if you had one on the top row.

Right as you popped your lock open, a shadow was cast over you and you turned around to see Mark’s friend who was even more stunning up close. He flashed you a quick smile along with an apology as he moved to the side to give you more room and allow you to grab your guitar out from the locker.

You were just slightly irritated at the guy. People with good looks knew how to use them to their advantage and this man obviously knew what he was doing. Had he been sane, he could’ve just waited for you to get your stuff out before getting his own, but instead, he chose to tower over you as you were crouching down on the floor.

Your eyes followed his figure as he made his way back to his seat in the front of the room, sitting down in front of the professor and you rolled your eyes knowing that he’s going to have an ego as tall as a skyscraper.

Aside from your encounter with the nameless e-boy, your first class went pretty okay though you were already having a little trouble remembering which chords were which so you sent a text to Mark asking for tips. He responds a few minutes later with fingering charts and even offers to tutor you, which you gladly accept.

You and Mark had appointed Wednesday afternoons and Sunday mornings as your lesson times and the first time you visit him is on the former. It was February so the weather was still quite cold though it wasn’t cold enough to make you regret not wearing a thicker jacket.

Before you could even text Mark that you’re outside the frat house, the door opens and he pulls you in, visibly shivering due to only being in a t-shirt and basketball shorts. “Not so Canadian are you, huh?” You joke at him, seeing the once thick-skinned boy now struggling to warm himself up as he practically ran up the stairs to his room.

You followed him up, greeting his roommate, Taeil, when you passed him in the hallway. Taeil was the oldest member of the frat and was set to graduate at the end of the semester. He had you absolutely fooled when you first met him. His personality reminded you of a golden meadow or a sunny beach but he was a total animal when it came to parties though Mark had told you that you’ve only seen the tip of the iceberg.

Having seen Taeil out in the hallway, you thought you and Mark would be the only ones in the room so you weren’t expecting to see the same guy from guitar class lying around on Mark’s bed. “Yuta, this is y/n, y/n meet Yuta.”

Yuta gave you that same smile you saw on the first day of class as he told Mark, “oh, I know her, she’s in my guitar class.”

“Dude, that’s so cool. You guys can work together on projects and the playing tests then. Man, that course would’ve been way more fun if I could play with someone I knew.” You shot Mark an awkward smile as if telling him to move on because you highly doubted that you’d ever want to work with Yuta, especially if his ego was as big as you thought it was. He’d call you out left and right for even the tiniest mistakes and you didn’t want to put yourself through that.

Mark cleared his throat while grabbing his guitar and handing it to you, and Taeil’s guitar to Yuta. “Yeah so, uh, anyway, I thought it would be better to teach you guys at the same time since you both are at the same level if that’s okay with you.” Mark’s question was obviously aimed towards you however Yuta answered first without any hesitation.

“Works for me.” Yuta looked over to you, strands of his white locks falling in front of his eyes though it didn’t dampen the intensity of his gaze in the slightest.

You didn’t exactly like the idea of playing with an audience, even if it was just Yuta. But if he was a beginner like you, then theoretically the playing field should be even. It was only because of this did you nod your head, telling Mark, “sure.”

Your first lesson with Mark consisted of his retaught both you and Yuta the fundamentals and basic chords you had already learned, making sure that your hands and fingers were placed the right way. Yuta, who was having a harder time than you, let out an exasperated sigh as he leaned back against the wall next to Mark’s bed while he ripped open a bag of gummy bears. “Whoever gets the fingerings right first gets a gummy bear.”

“Okay, bet.” Not really one for competition, you wanted to refuse his proposal, but this guy was really getting on your nerves. It was as if he had no interest yet all the passion in the world. And that’s aside from the fact that you simply wanted to continue showing him up and proving that you weren’t such a pushover and he can’t simply bend you to his will.

The three of you became so wrapped up in the competition that you didn’t even notice that you were supposed to leave to get to your last class of the day, which was now starting in five minutes. When you glanced over at the clock on Mark’s desk, you practically jumped out of your seat, “holy shit, I’m gonna be late to class.”

“I can drive you if you want.” Yuta offered.

“No, it’s okay, I’ll be fine.” You weren’t exactly lying but you weren’t entirely telling the truth as you declined him. It was an eight-minute walk away but you could probably make it in six if you did your Black Friday walk and surely your professor wouldn’t mind if you were just a minute late.

Mark helped you gather your belongings and held his door open for you. “Alright, see you y/n. I’ll set an alarm next time so we don’t forget.” He said with a slight laugh in his voice.

As you stepped out of the frat house, you just couldn’t stop your mind from wandering back to Yuta. He barely even knew you yet he had offered to drive you to class, even though your campus wasn’t particularly large. There was something about that man that made you want to run for your life but also just stop and stare at him all day.

The second time you had a lesson with Mark is on a Sunday morning and you’re pleasantly surprised to see that Yuta is nowhere to be found as you set foot into Mark’s room. After placing your bag down next to Mark’s desk, you pick up Taeil’s guitar and join him on his bed while he quietly plays a song to himself.

“Yuta’s still knocked out from the party we had yesterday so I doubt he’ll be joining us.” Mark informed you, and his statement rang true as Yuta did not come in during all of the three hours you spent next to Mark, much to your relief. Instead, Taeil had come in, looking terribly hungover.

“Hey, what’s up man.” Is all Taeil got to say before rolling into his bed, putting in a single Airpod before falling asleep, much to both you and Mark’s amusement.

Mark had tried to teach you basic chord sequences and strumming patterns but your brain just wasn’t having it. He kept giggling at seeing you frustrated and you had to repeatedly tell him to shut up in fear of waking Taeil so eventually both of you decided to call it a day as you put the guitars back on their stands.

You got back onto the bed next to Mark as both of you played on your phones for a bit before he turned his off and turned to talk to you. “Hey, y/n, so the guys are throwing this party next week Saturday and I was wondering if you’d want to come.”

“Next Saturday...Valentine’s Day?” You ask as you check your calendar on your phone.

“Yeah. You don’t have to though if you already have other plans.” Mark blurted out.

You laughed at the thought of actually going on a date on Valentine’s Day. “Didn’t have any plans besides ordering take-out and watching Netflix.”

Mark laughed along with you. “So is that a yes?”

“Sure.”

“Do you wanna sleepover too since you’re gonna be here on Sunday morning anyway?” You raised an eyebrow at Mark, wondering if he was actually serious.

“Sounds convenient but then where are you gonna sleep?” You countered.

“Uh, in Taeil’s bed.” Mark said, the gears in his head almost visibly turning.

“And where is he going to sleep?” You ask, not wanting to cause the kind senior any extra stress from having to deal with Mark as a roommate on top of his impending graduation.

Mark reached up and scratched the back of his head. “I don’t know, probably somewhere on the floor downstairs.” Your eyes grew wide at his statement. “Okay wait, before you yell at me, Taeil always gets too hammered to make it back up to the room until like, Sunday afternoon as you clearly just saw.” He explained, gesturing to his sleeping body on the other side of the room.

“Okay, then. But if he gets mad, it’s your fault, your idea, not mine.”

By the time Valentine’s Day came around, you were more than ready for it to end, having been annoyed by all the lovey-dovey advertisement and the couples posting on Instagram and holding hands and kissing wherever you went. You had always heard that love finds its way to those who are least expecting it, which is why you gave up the thought of ever pining over a guy who was likely to reject you anyway. Though, sure enough, love really did find a way of messing with your life in more than one way.

When you arrived at the party, you had first gone up to Mark’s room to drop off your bag that held your change of clothes and personal hygiene supplies. You don’t know what you were expecting to see when you entered his room, but you certainly weren’t expecting to see Mark’s bare ass while he was fucking into a girl in his bed, the same bed you were supposed to sleep in at the end of the night. “Oh, shit, fuck, sorry y/n, can you just uh, come back in a bit-”

You were pretty sure you were just as embarrassed as Mark, shouting “alright, have fun dude” as you closed the door. You turned around to search for somewhere else to go, pondering on the idea of just going back to your dorm after the party and walked right into Taeil.

“Should I not go in there?” He asked, having seen the way you backed out of the room and closed the door.

“Not unless you wanna see Mark’s butt.”

“Eh, I see it from time to time, can’t be any worse than usual.”

“Taeil, no” you exclaim, grabbing onto his arm and pulling him away before he could open the door.

“Oh, you mean to see his butt while he’s doing that kind of thing, I get it now.” He said with a playful glint in his eyes. “Were you planning on sleeping over?” He asked, having noticed the duffel bag hanging from your shoulder.

You let out a sigh before answering. “Yeah, I was gonna sleep in Mark’s bed and he was gonna sleep in yours since he said you apparently get too fucked up to make it back to the room.” At which Taeil laughs as he nodded his head, acknowledging the statement.

“He’s certainly not wrong,” Taeil confirmed, “did you want to put that down somewhere? I can let you keep it in our lounge room during the party. It’s a members-only room so you can just ask one of the guys to open it for you later in case I’m already out.”

You can’t help but giggle at Taeil’s joke as you accept his offer, following him down the hallway to a door where he punches in some numbers onto a keypad before opening it. Your jaw dropped when you looked inside, being met with a huge U-shaped couch facing the back wall where a large TV was mounted. “What do you guys even do in here?”

“Usually just gaming, sometimes watching big sports matches. Just normal guys stuff. We agreed to no sex, drugs, or alcohol in here so it’s like a safe room of sorts I guess.” Taeil explained to you.

“Huh, didn’t think you guys would have something like this.” You told him as you placed your duffle bag against the wall near the door.

“Frat life isn’t just all about getting high and drunk you know, y/n,” he said, playfully scoffing at you, “but speaking of, would you like to get a drink downstairs?” You nod your head before walking alongside Taeil as he places an arm around your shoulders, guiding you down to the party.

As you pass by Mark’s room along the way to the stairs, both you and Taeil share a laugh as you could hear the faint noises of sex through the door, though you really just wanted to erase the image of Mark’s ass from your head. Taeil seems to understand this much as he takes you to the kitchen and tells Doyoung, the frat’s resident entrepreneur with a side hobby for mixology, to get you something strong.

You’ve met Doyoung a couple of times, though you only exchanged short greetings since you were always doing something with Mark. “Where’s your boyfriend?” He inquired.

“Who?”

“Mark.”

“Oh, we’re not dating. He’s in his room though.”

“Sure seems like you’re dating. Why isn’t he here with you?”

Taeil responds, saving you from having to explain to Doyoung. “He’s getting lucky with some other girl.”

Doyoung’s eyes go wide as he responds, “that’s a first for him.”

You were about to ask what he meant by that but you’re interrupted by loud yells coming from the living room, causing you to turn around and see what was going on. You spot Yuta standing up on the makeshift DJ booth in the corner of the room with Johnny, who you recognized as your TA in your English class, as he grabbed the microphone and shouted “let’s get fucking drunk” before Johnny could manage to yank it out of his grasp and turn it off.

“What’s with that guy?” You mumble to yourself, not really expecting Doyoung to overhear you.

“Oh, Yuta? He’s just like that sometimes.” Doyoung states, shrugging his shoulders as he wiped the kitchen counter with a towel. “He’s that one friend who does really questionable things but you can’t get rid of them because deep down they’re actually pretty nice.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “You think he’s nice?”

“He is once you get to know him.”

You look at Taeil for reaffirmation only to find that said man is long gone, the only evidence of him ever being there is his yellow phone left lying on the counter next to Doyoung’s own drink. “I’ve gotten to know him and I wouldn’t say he’s nice, per se.”

Doyoung shakes his head at you, “you just haven’t cracked him open yet.”

“Why do you talk as if he’s an egg or something?” You joke laughing to yourself and watching as Doyoung fights back a smile.

“He is, in a sense. He’s got a tougher exterior along with his own inner issues that come tumbling out once he trusts you.”

“Like?”

Doyoung hums in thought before speaking. “I’m not gonna say too much because it’s his life and his own story to tell, but let me just ask you this one question. Don’t you ever wonder why he constantly sleeps around with girls yet never gets into a relationship with any of them?”

You ponder on the question before asking one back. “So are the rumors true?” Yuta’s reputation did precede him and you had, in fact, heard from other girls who had their own stories and adventures with Yuta but you didn’t necessarily believe them completely, not wanting to assume anything about Yuta.

“Some, not all...but yes, most of the ones I have heard were true, but maybe that’s just because people know I live with him so there’s no sense in trying to lie around me.” Doyoung responds to which you nod your head, acknowledging the accuracy behind his statement.

Three shots later of whatever Doyoung was making you, you were already starting to feel hot and lightheaded so you went back upstairs, as per Doyoung’s advice, and made your way to Mark’s room hoping he’d be done by now. You cracked his door open and peeked around it, grumbling to yourself as you saw your best friend and the same girl from earlier wrapped up in his blanket. You weren’t too sure where you were going to sleep tonight and you weren’t too keen on walking back to your dorm this late at night, especially when you were already starting to feel tipsy.

Closing the door quietly, not wanting to disturb the two people inside, you step away from the room, only to run into someone behind you. You spun around, ready to apologize until you realized who it was. Yuta, a quite drunk Yuta too.

“Taeil told me Mark got lucky-” he stopped to hiccup, “but I didn’t fully believe it so I came to-” he hiccuped again, “see for myself, but I think your action speak-” he reached up to briefly rub his eyes, “louder than words” he finished, letting out a yawn at the end. “Need somewhere to stay?”

“How did you know I was sleeping over?” You ask, wary of the man and his intentions.

He waves his hands as if dismissing your preconceived notions. “Taeil told me that too. Makes sense anyway since you’re here on Sunday’s as well.”

You sighed, not wanting to let yourself give in to Yuta yet again and give him another thing to hold over you, but it wasn’t as if you had many other options. “Taeil let me leave my bag in the lounge, can you unlock the door for me? I think I’ll just ask Doyoung to drive me back to my dorm or something.”

Yuta hummed as he grabbed your wrist and led you down the hallway to the lounge. He unlocked the door for you and held it open, but once both of you were inside, he closed the door behind him and turned on the mood lighting and watched as the room began to glow purple.

You picked up your bag as Yuta threw himself over the backrest of the sofa and tumbled onto the cushions. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re beautiful?”

“Well, yeah?” You stuttered, taken aback by his sudden comment.

“Damn, I wanted to be the first.”

“Okay?” You said, questioning his antics as Doyoung’s words floated through your head about Yuta and his trysts with girls, not wanting to become another victim.

As if Yuta could hear you thinking, he sat up and peered over the couch just enough to make eye contact with you, his eyes mischievously shining in the low lighting. “Were you gonna sleep with Mark?” He asked, raising his eyebrow suggestively.

“What? No,” you exclaim, “he’s my best friend, I would never do that.”

“Not like that you sicko,” Yuta said as he chuckled at your flustered state.

“Oh,” realization dawning upon you, “uh, yeah, I was planning to just sleep in his bed and he was gonna take Taeil’s but now I’m pretty sure that’s not happening tonight.”

“You can stay in my room if you want.” Now it was your turn to raise a suggestive eyebrow at him. “No, it’s not what you’re thinking. My roommate is away in China so his side is open. You can sleep in my bed if you’re not comfortable being in a stranger’s bed.” You were surprised he made it through such a long statement without any hiccups.

“Uh, thanks, I guess I’ll take you up on that offer.” You say, finally unrooting yourself from the floor and making your way towards the door.

Yuta begins haphazardly pulling himself over the back of the couch seeing as how you were ready to leave the room. “I’ll show you to the bathroom.” He would’ve face planted straight into the floor if it weren’t for you standing right in his path of destruction, barely catching him before he nearly sent both of you to the ground. “Sorry” he giggled as he regained his balance and pushed open the door.

You couldn’t mistake the way his body felt against yours, how warm and comforting it was. He smelled nice too, which was odd for someone who partied like an animal and lived with god knows how many other guys. You shook yourself out of your thoughts and grabbed your bag, following Yuta out of the lounge.

He led you to the bathroom and instructed you on how to use the shower and lock the door before telling you how to get to his room once you were done. The bathroom was surprisingly neat but you were sure it was thanks to Doyoung and Taeyong, the only two people you thought had their heads on straight in this house. Even if you had only briefly met both of them, it was enough to let you know that those men were the reason why the house somehow looked presentable within just a few hours after a raging party.

You showered quickly, the effect of Doyoung’s drinks really hitting you now, making you want to just pass out. Once you were done showering you threw on one of Mark’s shirts that you had previously stolen, intending on giving it back to him tonight, but you weren’t comfortable wearing your normal beat up sleepwear in front of Yuta, so you opted to wear Mark’s shirt instead.

Not quite wanting to have another incident like the one you had earlier with Mark, you knocked on Yuta’s door just to be safe. You heard him laugh from the inside as he called out “it’s unlocked, just come in.” As you let yourself in, he got off his bed telling you “I’m going to shower now. Just make yourself comfortable in whichever bed you want. I’ll sleep in whatever one you don’t choose.”

After he left the room, you looked between the two beds. One was neatly made and had pictures strung up on the wall next to it, the blankets and sheets folded nicely and placed alongside a few pillows near the foot of the bed. The other, which Yuta had just rolled out of, had wrinkled sheets with the blanket half falling off the bed, not a single pillow within a whole six-foot radius of his bed.

You didn’t really want to mess up the organization of whoever his roommate was, so instead, you just took one of the pillows and plopped it onto Yuta’s bed as you grabbed the blanket from the floor and pulled it over your head, allowing his scent to flood your nose. Just as you were about to drift into sleep, you heard the door open and close followed by rapid footsteps coming your way.

Before you even had time to react, Yuta was flinging himself on top of you and laughing as you gasped for air under his weight. “Somebody looks comfortable.” He teased as you continued squirming, trying to push him off you.

You wouldn’t take him to be a clingy drunk after seeing how rowdy he was during the party, but you suppose this is the side of him that managed to charm so many other girls into thinking they’d be that one lucky girl to finally win over Nakamoto Yuta’s heart. “Get off of me.” You uttered forcefully as you tried to make him move over and relieve the pressure on your chest and stomach.

“You silly, this is my bed” he cooed, letting another round of giggles leave his lips before rolling off you towards the wall, leaving you on the outside of the bed. He threw the blanket over himself, humming as he felt the warmth of it, that you had made, on his freshly showered skin.

Yuta kept his distance as he laid on his back with his eyes closed, his hands reaching up to ruffle his damp hair, speaking of which, “you know people say you can get sick if you go to sleep with damp hair?” You asked him quizzically.

“Yeah, but I’ve never gotten sick from it so I don’t really care.” He said dismissively.

A few moments passed before either one of you spoke again. “Didn’t you say that you were going to sleep in the other bed?” You questioned, remembering your conversation from not too long ago.

“Yeah, but I’m too lazy to unfold everything and put it back in the morning so here I am.” Yuta beamed, smiling over at you. You rolled your eyes at him, scoffing as he continued playing with his hair, making it stick up in different directions. “I can sleep somewhere else if you’re not comfortable with me being here.”

You wanted to say ‘yes, please move’ but you didn’t have enough strength in you to tell him to get out, not when you enjoyed his presence next to you so instead you simply told him “it’s fine” before tugging over more of his blanket and turning to face away from him.

He let out a whine as now half of his body was uncovered and exposed to the cold winter air and he yanked his blanket back, inadvertently pulling you with it, causing you to face him with your forehead nearly resting against his chest. “Why are you hogging my blanket?” Yuta whined.

“I’m not hogging it, you just keep trying to take more than your fair share of it.” You fired back at him.

“This is my room and my blanket.”

“You’re the one who offered to let me stay here, and might I add, you said you were going to sleep in the bed that I didn’t choose.”

“I can always retract my offer, you know.” You shook your head, the idea of asking Doyoung to drive you back to your dorm at 3am wasn’t exactly appealing to you. “Okay then come closer so we can actually share the blanket instead of leaving one of us to freeze.”

You let out a huff and scooted closer to Yuta. “Are you happy now?” Yuta let out a hum as he smiled down at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling underneath the strands of bleached white hair that had fallen in front of his face.

Closing your eyes again, you tried to fall asleep, hoping that you wouldn’t have any further interruptions from Yuta, but you couldn’t seem to fully relax with the main light of the room still on. “Yuta can you turn off the light?” He looked over you, clearly unhappy. “Please?”

“You’re closer.”

“God, why are you so difficult.” You remarked as you slid out from under the blanket, walking over to flip the light switch.

“I’m not difficult, you’re difficult.” He fired at you as the room became dark, illuminated only from the light of the moon. “You’re always so uptight and on edge about getting to class on time and being prepared.”

“Because that’s what a good student does, and unlike you, I actually want to graduate from college in four years.” You spit back as you rolled back into the bed next to him.

“Hey, not everyone graduates within four years, some of us just have a different path in life. And what makes you think that I’m not trying to graduate soon?”

“Your attitude and your seemingly nonexistent care to even make it to class on time.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t do my work though.”

“But you totally miss the instructions that the professors give at the beginning of class.”

“It’s not hard to figure things out when you’ve got a brain as big as mine.”

“You’re so annoying, just let me sleep.” You grumbled as you moved closer to him, wanting more of the blanket.

Silence falls upon both of you again but you let out a huff when Yuta starts talking again. He sure was annoying as hell when he was drunk. “Do you have feelings for Mark, or like, any other guys...like at all?”

You stared up at him, praying he’d feel the daggers coming from your eyes, “no.”

“Good, I was hoping you didn’t so I could do this.”

“Do wha-”

You hadn’t even finished your sentence before Yuta tilted your chin up and brought his lips to yours, eagerly molding his to fit the shape of yours.

You didn’t know what you were thinking when you started to kiss him back, in fact, you probably weren’t thinking at all. Yuta took it as a green light and let the hand that was against your chin find its way to the back of your neck to pull you in closer. You didn’t realize your body had shifted until you were now completely pressed up against him. It soon became all too hot and suffocating, forcing you to pull away and break the kiss.

Your eyes met his and held his gaze as you came to your senses. “Yuta, I’m not here to have sex with you.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” He replied almost nonchalantly.

You rolled your eyes at him, “no, I mean, like ever.”

“Okay. Who says I can’t just kiss a pretty girl because I want to?” He asked, the attitude in his voice was almost enough to make you want to slap him.

“I do?” You quipped. “I didn’t tell you that you could kiss me either-”

“Says the person who was definitely not kissing me back.” Yuta teased as he cocked an eyebrow at you, daring you to continue.

You flung the blanket off of you, not wanting to put up with any more of his antics. “Don’t use your fuckboy charms on me, I’m not here to become another one of your girls.”

“Y/n, wait, that’s not what I meant to do,” he whined, grabbing your wrist before you could fully get out of the bed, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to come off that way and for your information, I am not attached any of the ‘girls’ you are alluding to.”

“You attached yourself to them the moment you put your dick inside them and gave them something to talk about.”

“That's not what I intended to do.”

“Then what is it that you intend to do, Yuta?”

He paused with his mouth slightly open and you took this moment to separate your wrist from his grasp before he spoke again. “I don’t try to ‘charm’ them or whatever you call it. I’m not even looking for a relationship, trust me.”

“And why should I trust you when you have girls practically throwing themselves at you?”

Yuta let out a groan as he flopped onto his back. “Look, I never wanted to be this blunt with you but I’m not looking for a relationship because the last one I was in ended with me getting cheated on.” He paused as if letting his words sink in. “I don’t want to fall in love again because I don’t want to risk going through that same pain another time. I’m scared to fall in love because what if it’s not reciprocated? Is that enough to make you believe me?”

You stare at him in shock, barely managing to stutter out “I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“It’s fine, let’s just go to sleep, I said too much already.” He interrupted, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you back under the blanket. Once you were close enough for his liking, Yuta let go of you, retracting his arm back to his half of the bed though he stopped when he felt your hand on his forearm. He looked up at you with wide eyes as you pulled his arm back over you and allowed your forehead to rest against his chest.

Yuta stayed like that until you fell asleep, finding it hard to do the same. It took him awhile to find himself in the familiar lull due to his thoughts running rampant in his mind as his eyes traced over your features. If only you could read his mind, you’d know of the dilemma he realized he had wrapped himself into that he was too scared to admit on his own.

You woke up with a pounding headache, to say the least. Reaching up to massage your forehead, you tried to roll onto your back only to find that you weren’t able to. You jerked around, finding Yuta’s sleeping body as you remembered the events and conversations that took place just hours prior. You stilled as you took a moment to admire the way the golden rays of sun seeped in through the window, falling across his face and causing him to have an ethereal glow. He’d be quite attractive if it wasn’t for his attitude.

However, his face alone wasn’t enough to distract you from the fact that he was practically spooning you and you weren’t confident that you could get out without waking him though what really irked you was the fact that part of you didn’t want to leave from his warm embrace.

You stayed in his arms for a few minutes longer until your headache became unbearable and your throat was begging for something to drink. You tried your best to gently extract yourself from Yuta but much to your distaste, he woke up. He caused you even more displeasure when he pulled you back towards himself and whined “where are you going?”

“I’m thirsty and I have a headache.” You stated plainly, your voice void of energy.

Yuta whined once more before trying to reason with you. “But it’s cold, it’s cuddle weather.”

“I didn’t say that I wanted to cuddle with you.” You pointed out, at which Yuta finally forced his eyes open as he yawned and stretched before sighing.

“I’ll get you water and some ibuprofen if you stay for a little longer.”

“Fine, but that’s only because I don’t have anywhere else to go.” You were trying to convince him of this as much as you were trying to convince yourself of the statement while he gave you one of the brightest smiles you’ve seen from a full-time college student as he climbed over you and let himself out of the room.

You took this time as an opportunity to use the bathroom and peek into Mark’s room as you made your way back. You were surprised to see there was no one in the room and nearly jumped when an arm wrapped around your waist from the back. “Are we spying on Mark?” Yuta whispered into your ear.

Scoffing, you answer “he’s not even in there, you idiot.”

“Huh, I wonder where he went,” Yuta contemplated, “might as well grab the guitars while we’re here.” He handed you the glass of water and pills he was carrying as he walked into Mark’s room and picked up the two guitars from their stands.

“What are we supposed to do without Mark?”

“Practice? What else are we supposed to do?” The man in front of you asked rhetorically.

You shook your head at him, not liking the sound of his idea. “We won’t know if we’re doing anything right, we’re literally both beginners.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t help each other.” Yuta countered.

“Ugh, whatever, you’re so irritating.” And with that, you down the pills and turn to walk back to his room.

Playing guitar with Yuta wasn’t actually all that terrible. He knew more than he let on during your shared sessions with Mark and he offered you some tips every so often as he led both of you through the chord progression sheet. The whole scene of it was quite surreal, the way you and Yuta were both simply clothed in plain t-shirts, hair still roused from sleep, the way the sun gently lit the room and warmed it up.

You were genuinely enjoying yourself and didn’t even notice when Mark came into the room. “You guys started without me?” He whined cutely.

Yuta looked at you and you gestured at him to respond. “Y/n went to go spy on you in your room but you weren’t there so we decided to steal the guitars and have fun on our own.” You shot Yuta a look, hoping he understood the ‘I will strangle you’ glare you were giving him.

“Wow y/n, why were you spying on me man?” Mark asked dejectedly.

“I was just checking to see if your girl was still with you because I didn’t want to barge in on anything, again.” You tease.

Mark groans and covers his face out of embarrassment. “Oh gosh, don’t remind me.”

“Wait, wait, you saw Mark naked?” Yuta questioned with his eyes wide. “He has a big butt doesn’t he?” He added, smirking, at which both you and Mark yell at him to shut up. “Just saying facts.” He claims, raising his hands up in defense.

“Anyways,” Mark said a little too aggressively, “are you guys doing okay on your own? Or did you want me to join?”

Again, Yuta turned to you for a response, though this time you really hated yourself for what you answered with. “No, I think we’re fine, thanks though.”

“Better go wash your sheets bro, you were wild last night.” Yuta called out as Mark left the room.

“Dude,” Mark exclaimed, “don’t ever say that again, please bro.” And just like that, I was only you and Yuta again.

“Speaking of parties,” Yuta began, “we’re thinking of holding another one in March before spring break. Wanna come?”

“I can’t believe you guys are already planning another one not even a whole day after getting drunk out of your mind.” You joke, the disbelief obvious in your expression.

“Hey, you have to let loose every once in a while,” he states, “but my offer still stands.”

You hum, faking getting lost in thought, “ask me again in a month and I’ll let you know.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you tilted your head to the side, the look on your face clearly ridiculing him, “for now.” He adds on.

You went back to looking over the chord progression sheet and tried again to go through the one you were on before Mark came in. You almost succeed this time until you place your fingers one fret away from where they were supposed to be. “Yikes” Yuta comments as he reaches out and shifts your hand over for you, causing you to stick your tongue out at him.

It seemed only reasonable that when the guys continued having parties every so often, that you were invited to every single one of them whether it be through Mark or Yuta, and the one time Johnny had hit you up not knowing your involvement with the frat already, or even when Taeil invited you though it was really because Mark needed help sorting out his relationship issues.

Everyone except you was surprised that Mark had found himself a girlfriend, especially one that wasn’t you. You were happy for him, even if it meant having to respond to his panicked texts at 2am asking what something meant in ‘girl language’ accompanied by numerous screenshots.

Mark often ended up leaving you and Yuta on your own on Sundays because that was the only day when both he and his girlfriend were free. You certainly didn’t mind spending more time with Yuta now that he stopped being such a cocky asshole all the time. Whatever absence Mark had left, Yuta was there to make up for it whether it be his lingering touches, shy kisses, and even the offering of his clothes to you when you accidentally ended up sleeping over again, though this time you voluntarily shared a bed with him.

Yuta was becoming a necessary presence in your life, though you didn’t mind. You didn’t mind it when he moved to sit next to you during class. You didn’t mind when he asked to work with you for the upcoming playing test. You didn’t mind when he found you during parties swept you away from the dance floor to take you elsewhere.

You especially didn’t mind when taking you elsewhere resulted in your current situation, your hands tangled in Yuta’s now orange-colored hair, as you lay under him while he kissed you breathless.

“You look so fucking hot, you had all of them staring at you.” Yuta growls out between kisses.

You bite his bottom lip, causing him to groan slightly. “Mmm, you like that though. You like it when I look like this.”

“Not when other men get to look at you the way I do.”

“And why is that?”

“Because you’re mine.”

The use of the word caused you to stop in your tracks, Yuta pulling back as your lips stopped moving against his. “What are we?” You ask him, your voice shaking.

“What do you mean?”

“Like, this relationship?” You say, gesturing between the two of you, “What is our relationship to each other?”

“We’re friends.”

“But are we just friends? Because I don’t think friends kiss each other like this.”

“They don’t, but that doesn’t mean we can’t.” Yuta interjected as he leaned in to reattach his lips to yours.

“No, Yuta, stop,” you declare, pulling away from him, “I told you I’m not someone you can just play around with. If you want to keep me as a friend, then that’s all we will be. No kissing, no flirting, none of that.”

“I’m not playing around with you-”

“Then why is it so hard for you to place a label on us?” You questioned him, unintentionally raising your voice ever so slightly.

He rolled off of you, throwing an arm up to cover his eyes as he let out a sigh of exasperation. “I...I don’t know.”

“We’re clearly more than just friends but if you’re not willing to commit to being something more, then I’ll leave it at that.”

“Y/n, I- fuck, I don’t know what I even want-”

“And that’s okay,” you interrupt, “I’ll just give you time to think then, but for now,” you pause as you stand up from his bed, “just friends.” And with that you let yourself out of his room and ventured back downstairs to the party without turning back, finding comfort in the common sight of Johnny manning the boards, Doyoung in the kitchen with the drinks, even down to Taeyong and Taeil drunkenly swaying with each other on the dance floor.

“Here, something sweet to get rid of that sour look on your face.” Doyoung joked as he slid a drink across the counter.

You let out a chuckle as you raised the glass to your lips. “That obvious huh?”

“It is when I know whose room you just came from and who you’ve been spending all your time with.” He was really too intelligent to be stuck with these idiots.

You could only sigh as you took a large swig of whatever it is Doyoung made for you, relishing in the burn it gave you as it went down your throat, wishing for the alcohol-induced pain to overtake the one in your mind caused by the one and only Nakamoto Yuta.

Needless to say, you and Yuta ended up changing songs for the playing test and performing alone. Yuta moved back to his previous seat in the front of the room, though you still felt the way his eyes practically pierced through you as you played your chosen song, which albeit, was on the easier side since you wanted to give yourself a break.

Unbeknownst to you, Yuta wished so badly to be the person you were singing about. “Can you focus on me? Baby can you focus on me?” You sang, and he mentally beat himself to the ground.

Yuta still wanted to give you the world more than anything but he didn’t trust himself to do so, not when he’s already hurt you more than he should have. He became so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t even notice you finished playing until he heard the applause coming from your classmates.

You actually did end up going to their spring party, but it was due to a request made by Johnny as he told you about Mark’s current post-breakup state near the end of your English class together. “He’s pretty much been in his room all the time. Not like the normal kind where he just prefers to chill in his room, but like, the kind where he doesn’t even come down to eat with us and Taeil has to bring food up to him.”

“Did Mark say anything about the breakup? Like why or how it happened?” You questioned, not wanting to have to ask Mark himself in case it was still too sensitive a subject to talk about.

Johnny hummed in thought, cocking his head to the side. “He didn’t say much to me, but he told Taeil that she wasn’t looking for anything serious but he thought that she was.” Johnny paused to take a sip from the Starbucks cup on his desk. “In my opinion, he should’ve waited to get to know her instead of just fucking her and deciding to date her y’know? But, I mean, that’s on him, so as they say, not my problem.” He shrugged his shoulder before taking another sip of his drink.

“Literally who says that?” You joke, enjoying poking fun at the older guy.

Johnny turned to you, a mock look of offense plastered onto his face. “Y/n! You don’t know? The famous Johnny Suh says it all the time.” You rolled your eyes at him as you packed up your belongings, promising to be at the party later that night, not exactly fancying the thought of running into a certain someone at the party as well.

Mark’s fiery whirlwind of a romance had left him to become a mess of all sorts and you spent your time with him at the party in his bed, watching tik toks and animal video compilations to get his mind off of things. You felt a sense of relief as you heard one of his faint snores, realizing that he was asleep, allowing you to slip out of his room and head downstairs to grab a drink from Doyoung.

Right as you were about to head back up, you saw the all too familiar head of orange hair glowing under the dim lighting as he looked down across the party from the bottom of the staircase. He didn’t seem to notice you as you made your way towards him until a small “hey” left your lips.

His eyes darted over to your face, offering a simple nod of his head to you to  acknowledge your presence. You stood next to him, leaning against the wall until you broke the silence “how have you been?”

“Fine. You?”

“Pretty good I guess.” You could tell he didn’t want to talk to you, but you didn’t want to leave him, just feeling so drawn to him. Finding comfort in his presence, you closed your eyes and let your head fall against the wall as you lost yourself in the music that Johnny had going.

“I’ll get going, this party isn’t as exciting as normal.” Yuta stated as he turned to go back upstairs. Starting up the stairs after him, wanting to check in on Mark again, but when Yuta heard you following him, he turned around and called out to you. ”Don’t follow me, you’ll end up in my arms.” You froze as he turned back around and continued his way up while you processed his words, allowing him to escape from you yet again.

You watched from an outsider's perspective and through the narratives of the other guys as over the next few days, Yuta replaced Mark as the resident vegetable. He fell into the same state Mark was previously in, said boy having slowly come back to his senses with your constant nurturing and care.

Party after party, Yuta was no longer down on the dance floor with one hand holding a red solo cup, another around the waist of a girl he had just met. You wanted so badly to speak to him, but whenever you spotted him off to the edges of the crowd, he’d disappear seconds later like he knew you were watching him. As much as it was nice to have Mark back and go back to your normal best friend activities, Yuta had lodged himself in your heart without you knowing it.

Countless parties more and it was already nearing the end of spring semester. Yuta had stopped showing up to class, appearing once or twice a week, at most. Even at parties, he no longer came out of his room, according to Taeil. You had been meaning to talk to Yuta for a while now, but with finals looming right around the corner and his ability to hole himself up in his room, it was nearly impossible to find the time and place for it.

You were sick of worrying about him and if he was eating and sleeping okay, often finding yourself wondering what he was currently doing while you were studying or eating your own meals. You hated how often he occupied your mind. You truly wanted to believe that you were different to him, that someday he’d come around ready to commit to something but you ridiculed yourself for thinking that you’d have enough power to change someone as stubborn as Yuta. Little did you know, you were more than capable of doing so.

You had just entered the last week before finals and your school was generous enough to allot students a two day period to study before finals started. Of course, the frats and sororities took it as a last-ditch opportunity to party before their seniors graduated. You attended the party thrown to celebrate the graduating Taeil, Johnny, and Taeyong, but you were there for a different reason.

Throwing a quick greeting to Doyoung in the kitchen as you entered, he offered you a drink, which you told him to save for later before storming up the stairs. You were tired of all the hours you spent thinking about Yuta. If he wasn’t going to do anything about this, then you were whether it ended your friendship with him or not. You were done thinking about all the what-ifs, you wanted a definitive answer and you wanted it now.

Stopping in front of Yuta’s door, having enough manners to think about knocking before entering, you raised your hand to knock. Though before you were able to, you heard the music coming from inside. It didn’t take a genius to recognize that it was his voice singing the words. You froze with your hand against the door as you continued to listen to him. “Oh, how I love you. I just feel so lost without you.”

You opened his door slowly, knowing fully well that he wouldn’t be able to hear you knock over the loud noise coming from the party and his own blue-toned song. Both of you stood there in shock as your eyes met. Yuta was sitting on his bed with Taeil’s guitar in his lap and a notebook laid open next to him while you stood in the middle of his doorway, hand still on the knob.

Oh, how you missed the sight of him, even when he was dressed as simply as he was right now with just a grey t-shirt and black shorts sporting the logo of his favorite soccer team. “Yuta, we need to talk” you blurted out, stopping yourself from ogling him any further.

“Alright.” He complied, closing the notebook as you sat at the foot of his bed.

You take in a deep breath before starting. “I’m pretty sure you know this already, but I like you,” pausing to regather yourself and push through the rest of the speech you practiced in your head, “I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about you recently and I just want to settle this whole thing once and for all.”

Yuta nodded while picking at his fingers which you could see were now raw from playing the guitar so much, making you wonder just how often he was on it. “I’ve been thinking about you too...a lot,” he said as he looked up at you, “and I think I have an answer for you.”

You plant your hand down next to you on his bed, resting your weight on it and letting your head loll to the side as you raise an eyebrow at him asking him to continue. “I like you too, and I know the way I’ve been acting doesn’t really show that but I’m just scared.”

“Of what?”

“Of getting hurt again.” Yuta said, letting his head rest in his hands.

“Yuta, you know I would never cheat on you.”

“That’s what she told me too, but people can be deceiving.”

“Look, I’m not her,” you pointed out to him, “and I’m telling you right now that I would not even think about cheating on you.”

“Yeah, well, things can change.” Yuta let out exasperatedly.

“So you should change with them. You’re not going to grow unless you accept those changes.”

He went silent for a bit before looking up at you. “Teach me how to accept them, then.”

“What do you mean by that?” You ask him, your eyes meeting his.

“Show me that you’re different. Prove to me that not all change is bad.”

You moved closer to him as he spoke, swinging a leg over his lap and straddling him. “I will.”

Yuta’s eyes fluttered shut and you felt as he shakily exhaled before he reopened his eyes. “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded, and this time it was your eyes that closed as Yuta connected his lips to yours. Within a few seconds, you felt his tongue brush against your bottom lip, asking for entrance, which you allowed and gave him a sense of dominance before letting your tongue dance with his while gently pushing him down onto the bed.

He whined as he broke the kiss and rolled both of you over, switching your positions, preferring to smother your body with his, making you giggle at his actions. “Thank you for asking this time.” You told him, referencing the first time he had kissed you.

“I was drunk, okay? I wasn’t thinking straight and I just wanted to kiss you so badly.” Yuta groaned, grinding his growing erection on your hip at the last part.

“Oh you wanna kiss me so bad huh?” You teased.

You could’ve sworn he let out a growl right then before responding “fuck yeah I do” and reconnecting your lips to his. After fighting your tongue yet again, he pulled away and slowly opened his now lust-filled eyes. “Are you sure you want this?”

“Yes,” you let out breathlessly, “I want it.”

“Who do you want?” He questioned as he slipped his hands under your shirt, gently kneading your breasts while kissing along your jaw and down your neck.

“You.”

“Baby, say my name.”

“Yuta, I want you.”

“Fuck, I love it when you say my name.” He said as he pulled his shirt off, throwing it down to the floor as you sat up and did the same.

The second your shirt was off, Yuta’s hands were already undoing the clasp of your bra, tossing it to the side as well before pushing you back down and running his hands over your breasts. His mouth latched onto one of your nipples as his hand played with the other.

You let out a whine as he pushed his erection against your clit, making you feel your own arousal that had started leaking out onto your underwear. Yuta glanced up at you, smirking, as he heard the sound you made. “Someone’s getting needy.” He kissed his way down your abdomen, sitting back once he reached the waistband of your pants, pulling them off along with your underwear.

He groaned as he took in all of your naked beauty, telling you “you’re so fucking hot” as he spread your legs and brought his face down to your folds and licking a long strip upwards. He repeated this motion a few times before you let out a frustrated moan at his teasing.

Yuta laughed at your desperation until your hand wove it’s way into his hair and pushed him closer to where you wanted him most. He seemed to get the message as he dove in, allowing you to get lost in the feeling of his tongue swirling around and pressing at your entrance.

You weren’t expecting it when you suddenly felt him pressing a finger into you, though you enjoyed the sensation of it and raised your hips to feel more, only to be met with Yuta’s free hand coming down on your stomach, holding you down. He waited for you to relax before inserting a second digit, then a third as he started to speed up and finger fuck you open.

He was reaching places inside of you that you had never reached before but you still wanted more. “Yuta,” you breathed out, “just fuck me already.”

“Well when you say it like that, there’s no way I can resist” he said, a sly smile creeping onto his face as he sat up, his erection bobbing as he tugged off his ripped jeans, freeing it from its confines.

“Condom” you tell him.

“Oh, you’re one of those girls,” he snickered, earning him a smack on the arm from you, “I’m just kidding, jeez, I don’t want to have to be responsible for a child just yet.” He defended as he reached over and stuck his hand into one of the drawers of his nightstand.

“I’m not risking getting pregnant when I can barely pay my tuition.” You quipped back at him.

“Fair enough.” Yuta remarked as he ripped open the package and rolled the condom over his already leaking cock.

He crawled over you, his elbows coming to rest next to either side of your head. “Are you sure you want this?” He asked as he lined himself up with your entrance.

“Are you sure want this?” You countered to him, both of you knowing fully well what you meant since once he went through with this, there was no turning back. Yuta was promising himself to you just as you had done to him.

You watched as his eyes found yours, “I want this, I want you, I want us.” With that he pushed himself into you, both of you letting out sinful moans as he bottomed out.

He barely gave you time to adjust before he started slowly rocking his hips as your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer while your hands found their way into his brightly colored locks. Just as he began to accelerate his movements, thrusting harder and faster, his door swung open.

Mark walked in casually, “hey, Yuta have you seen Taeil’s- holy shit i’m so sorry” he exclaimed once he realized the situation.

Yuta didn’t even pause as he told Mark “it’s on the floor.”

If you weren’t struggling to hold back your lewd sounds in the presence of your best friend, you would’ve laughed at how Mark snatched up the guitar and bolted out of the room, muttering “guess we’re even now, y/n” as he shut the door.

You let out a whimper as Yuta hit your spot the second the door closed. “Fuck, right there.”

He pushed himself into you a few more times before suddenly rolling over, bringing you to straddle him. “Ride me” he commanded, one of his hands coming to rub your clit. You began bouncing on his lap and clenched around him, drawing a moan from him. “I won’t last long if you keep doing that.”

“Good, I'm not going to either.” You informed him, already feeling the knot in your stomach begging to be released.

Your thighs were starting to become sore though you didn’t want to stop. Yuta noticed your change of pace, bringing both his hands up to your hips as he began thrusting up into you. You let out a cry as he managed to brush against your most sensitive areas, causing an orgasm to wash over you.

His movements slowly only for a bit as he let you take control, riding out your high before firmly grasping your hips again and bouncing you on himself, relishing in the feeling of your tight walls fluttering around him.

Staying true to his word, Yuta came shortly after you, filling the condom with his cum. He continued to push himself up into you until it became too much and he pulled out with a hiss. Yuta gently you down on his bed before getting up to dispose of the condom in the trash bin next to his nightstand.

You welcomed him with open arms as he climbed back into bed, his own arms wrapping around your waist as he began pressing light kisses across your collarbone as he broke the silence. “So does this make us a thing?”

“Depends on what you mean by that.” You tell him, wanting him to clearly voice his thoughts.

“Are we official?” He clarified.

“Only if you want us to be.”

Yuta smiled up at you. “y/n, Yuta’s girl, I like the sound of that.” You leaned down to press a kiss to his lips before he spoke again. “That song was about you, by the way”

“I figured that much.” You stated as you pushed his hair out of his face.

He giggled as he told you “I wrote it after jacking off to the thought of you.”

“Okay, you didn’t have to tell me that.” He let out a full laugh this time as he rolled both of you onto your sides and brought his forehead to rest against yours.

“Gosh, as if you weren’t clingy enough before this.” You joke, playfully kissing his nose.

“I’m all yours now.” Yuta cooed, his arms pulling your still naked body impossibly closer to his.

A/N - i do not condone or promote the behavior or fraternities or sororities, especially during COVID-19, read a bit about it here. i am simply writing about my own fantasy in my own ideal world. with that being said, please remember to wear your masks and stay safe out there. this one shot will be my first work with smut in it so i’m open to pretty much any and all feedback. special thank you to @neocitybynight​ for helping me work out some of the plot!

[kaypeace21]

Your El post was great and made me realise why I have so much of a problem with how she is portrayed in fanon, as if she didn't miss out on her whole early childhood development? So much fic about her completely ignores her intellectual delay and what the actual effects of her trauma would be. M*leven writers in particular really tend to make El some kind of self-insert instead of paying attention to who she really is and how she behaves. Pretty certain now that M*leven's not a healthy endgame.

El psych post here.

Aw, thanks. Yep , a lot of supposed ‘El fans’ (not all) don’t really care about El as a person. It’s sad cause she is a really interesting and engaging character - but most reduce her to her telekenesis and being Mike’s girlfriend. Some see her as a  chosen one/power fantasy character they can project on to, to feel powerful. And some just fantasize about being with Finn, (so project on to El) . Others also just like the cliche of “main girl/guy” getting together. Or just refuse to let go of a ship they got so worked up about in s1, so choose to live in denial about how s3 spells out how mileven is doomed (and how even s2 hinted at this). Others simply ignore her trauma, neglect, and lack of socialization and how it clearly affects her. And ignore how getting into a relationship with a boy she knew for less than a week , who she asked “Will you be like my brother? Why not?” / and even asked if they’d go to the dance as ‘ friends’?” Before he kisses her -is questionable to say the least. Especially, cause only a day or 2 before : she just learned what a friend even was. Yet , people expect her to automatically and inexplicably understand the distinctions between platonic, familial, and romantic love? Or even the distinctions between crushes, physical attraction, or actual romantic love? They paralleled Hopper/El to mileven to show how she’s confusing her familial love for Mike with romance (they showed that by paralleling them to sibling/cousins too) .See parallels here.

El was dating Mike for 6 months, despite asking Max “How do I know what I like?” That’s something she should have known BEFORE dating someone!  Girl , said she’s not even sure she likes kissing Mike cause he’s her “first boyfriend”- and after dumping him/  this kiss convo, she swoons at a new boy in a magazine. Poor El doesn’t need a bf she needs a stable support system (of friends and family) to help her learn about the world and herself-before even thinking about romance.

Do some not think it’s a little strange a 14 year old is SO into teddy bears (like Holly who carries one in s3)? And don’t see it’s actually a hint she’s delayed? Not to mention , El in s2 was just taught (by Hopper) how to tell time and what the word “compromise” meant . And in s3 , she  doesn’t even know what a State is . While , in contrast, Mike in s2 was talking about “ectotherms”,  schooled Hopper about computer programming , and won the science fair 4x. The knowledge imbalance/gap is just - VERY problematic .

Some will delude themselves and think El in a year will just magically catch up with her friends . While others low key LOVE how behind she is and like the idea of her being completely reliant/dependent on Mike to teach her things  -ick. I saw a mileven say El in s4 would probably believe in Santa and Mike would lie/trick her so she’d think he’s real.And they acted like that was romantic . And they saw no problems with that whole can of worms. I could not deal with how problematic that post was and all the likes/ and 28 reblogs.😑

No normally developed teenager would hear about Santa and actually believe it.Call me crazy, but maybe a boy who is intellectually gifted shouldn’t be with a girl who he could theoretically trick into thinking Santa is real. And y’know, maybe El wouldn’t like to be LIED to since she dumped Mike for lying to her in s3.

But, I understand that this fandom has a lot of young fans, despite the Duffers’  saying this is “not  a kids show” . So a lot of these kid-fans (unlike most adults and some teen fans ) don’t comprehend why such a gap in knowledge between 2 people in a romantic coupling is problematic (not cute). Or why being so attached to a partner (to the point of neglecting other relationships) isn’t healthy . Especially when they have the (then future) girlfriend violently push the guy’s gal-friend cause they smiled at eachother and she was jealous, have that same couple never apologize to eachother for lying/stalking eachother , have the couple have nothing in common, nor have conversations that better help them understand one another but in fact cause even more confusion- so instead they just kiss all the time . It’s a mess. When older they’ll probably... hopefully... understand why mileven was considered SO... questionable.

[like-rain-or-confetti]

Imagine Aro and Caius teach you how to dance.

"Should I be concerned you consider this a two man job?" You asked looking at both Aro and Caius. Aro chuckled. "Do I really have to learn? I don't intend on dancing any time soon." "Learning to dance is a wonderful thing that you should have been taught." Aro began. "It's disgraceful that you haven't." Caius chided. "Im sure you'll enjoy it." Aro took your hand leading you to the middle of the floor. "Why don't I teach you guys how to dance instead? I know the floss and the moonwalk. Can't say I do them well but..." You trailed off with a shrug. "No, thank you." Aro smiled at the pitiful attempt to get out of it. "I'll show you the correct position." Aro said as Caius took your waist. "Wait! You're wife is okay with this right!? I hear she's lovely and i don't want her to be mad at me." Caius rolled his eyes. "It's a dance- grow up." "I believe what my brother means to say is that he and Athenodora have been mates for centuries and both are completely faithful to one another and trust each other very much." Aro smiled at you sending Caius a pointed look. "Now, your hand goes here on his shoulder and this hand goes in his. Yes, just like that." "Seriously though, can't I just two a little two-step in the sidelines? How necessary is this for a human to know?" "Do you suppose that no one will ever ask you to dance when you're changed and have all of eternity?" Caius raised an eyebrow. "If they're my friend- they won't. Im not graceful in any way." "They may not be your friend but your mate." Caius pointed out. You 'aw'ed. "You think someone would want to spend eternity with me... that's sweet." 

Aro pushed you forward and into Caius' hold a little more and you made a noise of panic before casting your eyes to Caius' arm. "I’m going to step forward and when I do you're going to step back- (Y/N), you can look at me." Caius spoke. You stiffly moved your head to meet your gaze with Caius. "So you're starting right? Which means I go back with my right?" "Indeed." Aro's eyes gleamed.  "Usually if you do not know someone who asks you to dance well- it'd usually be one dance but regardless if you ask someone to dance it is customary that when the dance is over you walk them back to their place." Caius explained. "So I asked you and so then once we're done I'd keep a hold of this hand and walk you back to where I first saw you." Caius held your hand out whilst walking you back to the side of the room you originally stood. "Oh!" A smile graced your features in pleasant surprise. "Oh that was nice! I feel really respected." "That's the intent." Caius nodded before leading you back to the middle of the floor. 

"Wait so by the end of this lesson, will I be able to do the lift from dirty dancing?" "...the lift from what?" Caius tilted his head. "Its a movie. The girl runs towards him and he lifts her over his head and holds it. Kinda like flying." "Theoretically yes. Either of us could lift you without issue. However you're still human and so you wouldn’t be able to lift us." Aro responded. "Although that isn't necessarily common in ball dances so I don't suggest it." Caius added whilst sending a pointed gaze to Aro. "Can we try it?" You asked, eyes wide.

"Wait so I genuinely can't lift any vampire? Not even the twins? The twins are tiny, surely i could..." You mused. Aro called Jane into the room. "Jane, my dear, we could use your assistance." Jane looked delighted at the thought of torturing you. She didn't expect a dance lesson to go so sour but she wouldn't complain in the slightest. "Would you allow our dear (Y/N) to attempt to lift you?" She didn't see that coming and her face said it all. She bit back the response that you wouldn't be able to and reluctantly agreed. Maybe you could lift her...just wouldn't be very well. 

��You mustered up all of your courage as well as strength, terrified the girl would bite you with even the slightest wrong move. You wound your arms around her and attempted to lift her. As they anticipated- you didn't get very far. 

"What?" Your eyes were wide and your jaw had dropped.  You didn’t know how to explain it. It was like lifting a human shaped rock. Jane was solid and cold with only her smooth skin reminding you it was a person you were trying to lift. She looked petite but was actually very heavy. You could barely lift her heels off the floor. It was horrifying and amazing all at the same time. You didn’t see Aro nod to you in Jane’s direction and mid thought you screeched. Jane had hoisted you as high as her arms could reach. “Whilst humans have a very difficult time lifting vampires, vampires can easily lift a human.” Aro smiled as Jane lowered you to the floor. “Thank you, my dear.” Aro dismissed Jane with a smile and a nod and in moments she was gone. “I’m in shock, so can someone lift me then? My life will be completed if someone does the lift with me.” “No-” Caius began. “If that’s your desire.” Aro finished. Caius gaze snapped to Aro in disbelief. “Come now brother, it’s not as though it’s tasking.” “Then I believe you won’t mind doing the lift then?” Caius huffed. “Very well.” 

Aro moved his brother out of the way, as Caius gawked at how childish the two of you were being. “Whenever you’re ready, my dear.” Aro smiled. “You’re sure? You won’t drop me?” “Drop you? I’d never!” You took a breath and before any anxiety could stop you you ran. 

In seconds you were in the air above Aro’s head and you immediately giggled hysterically, even as he lowered you back down to the floor. “That was amazing.” 

The two men decided you were done for the day. “I can’t believe you.” “Lighten up, Caius.”  “We’d all benefit from using our hours productively, not acting like children!” “(Y/N) is uncomfortable with these things.” Aro explained. “It was the first lesson, it’ll help them warm up to dancing.” Caius huffed.

(Inspired by unus annus.)

[wolferals]

🌸EX'S AND OH'S (part 2)🌸

arón piper imagine

Since so many people requested a part 2 and I got a lot of time right now, here it is! Im not very proud of it but i still hope y‘all enjoy🥰

*

*

It has been 2 weeks since that weird dinner had taken place. You were still very sure your boyfriend didnt love you anymore but you were too attached to break up with him.

You had never spoken to him about that night and he didnt mention anything either.

Neither have you talked to Arón or Emma since and you werent sure if they were still together. Arón had told you he was going to break up with her soon but Emma would‘ve surely texted you about it, she was one of your best friends after all.

It was now Saturday afternoon and you were busy managing to get to the grocery story and then picking up your boyfriend from work.

So you grabbed your stuff and got into the car.

The shopping didnt take too long this time since there werent many people. Afterwards you drove to his workplace and parked the car to wait for him.

While you were busy scrolling through instagram, he got into the car and slammed the door shut.

„Hey.“ you smiled at him but he didnt even look at you.

He seemed mad.

„You okay?“

He just nodded while looking out the window.

You figured if you asked again, he‘d snap at you so you just started the engine and drove back home.

On the way there was this weird silence between the both of you until he sighed loudly and said:“We gotta end this y/n. Pull over there.“

You looked at him for a second and checked for a spot to pull over.

„What?“ you asked and stopped the engine.

„You heard me. I cant be with you anymore. Im sorry, i know thats not fair but i cant be with someone who doesnt love me anymore.“

You couldn’t believe him. „You“ didnt love him anymore?

„Its better for both of us.“ he ended and grabbed his backpack.

„What are you doing?“ you asked confused as he opened the door.

„Its better if you just pack your stuff soon. Maybe you can stay with your parents for a while.“

And he slammed the door.

Now he wanted you to move out?!

You were so mad! Not even sad. Not a single bit. You were fucking furious how he just kicked you out like this.

You could theoretically stay with your parents but you really didnt want to.

So you thought about it for a bit and tried to calm down so you could drive home.

As if the angels had spoken, your phone rang.

You looked for it in your bag and spoke:“Hello?“

-„Hey y/n.“ You heard Aróns voice answer you.

He was right on time.

„He broke up with me.“ was all you managed to say. „5 minutes ago.“ you continued.

You heard him sigh through the phone.

„Im sorry bout that. Emma and I broke up too. Yesterday. Well I broke up with her.“

You swallowed. „Are you okay?“ you softly asked him and bit your lip.

He coughed once before speaking up. „Sí, I‘m good. Do you want me to come over?“

-„Not right now. I have to pack. He kind of kicked me out.“

Arón immediately yelled:“He did what?!“

You swallowed again. „Yeah he did. He said I should move to my parents'.“

He didnt reply at first. Then he spoke:“Alright grab your stuff and come here.“

You just nodded even though he wasnt able to see it.

„Okay.“ you whispered.

„Okay.“ he softly spoke back.

Then you hung up.

And eventually managed to drive back home just to madly throw all your clothes and other things into two big suitcases. You just wanted go get out of there before he came back home.

Maybe it had all been planned by him. The whole Emma thing? I mean, you werent sure if they were a couple but the way they acted at the dinner it sure looked like it.

You then grabbed the groceries you had just bought and your two suitcases and hovered it all into you little car.

And then you took off to Arón‘s place.

On the way you quickly called him (ofc with the hands-free-device) that you‘d be there soon so he could maybe help you carry your stuff.

Once you got there he was already waiting outside the building and greeted you as he approached you.

„Hey girl.“ he said and pulled you in a tight warm hug.

„How are you feeling?“ he asked.

You nodded and replied:“I‘m okay. Thanks for all this.“

He had grabbed your suitcases and smiled at you.

„Of course. Just come on, get comfortable.“ He opened the door to his apartment and carried your stuff to his living room.

„You want a drink?“

-„Yes please.“

You both walked to the kitchen and he grabbed a bottle of tequila.

„Shots?“ You just nodded.

2 hours later

You both were now slightly drunk and joking around on his couch while soft music was filling up the tense room.

„Man I need some air.“ He spoke and got up, stumbling slightly.

„Where are you going?“

You sat up and touched your forehead.

„Come on.“

You stood up as well and he opened the balcony door.

„Fire escape.“ he said and grabbed your hand.

He was more drunk than you. He could barely walk, but you felt fine besides the slight tipsiness.

You supported him on the way up the fire escape until you were standing on the roof.

You noticed some chairs and empty beer bottles. As well as a hammock that was hanging inbetween a post and a column.

„Wow.“ you smiled and enjoyed the view over the lively business of Madrid.

„I know.“ he replied as he was standing right next to you.

You both just stared down at the lights until you felt something tickle your fingers.

Looking down you noticed that Aróns fingers were dancing around yours until he finally grabbed onto your hand to hold it tight.

„Its really beautiful.“ You managed to say while blushing as hell.

It was different than holding hands with your now-ex boyfriend. You didnt feel like it was just holding hands, it was more than that. It gave you a tingly, nice feeling.

„It is.“ he spoke and slowly pulled you to the back of the roof. In the dim lights of the city you could see a wooden bench with a small fireplace in front that looked like it hasnt been lit in ages.

„Thats my spot.“ arón explained and sat down next to you.

His hand was resting on your thigh as you both kept looking at the wonderful view over Madrid.

„Arón?“ you then asked quietly.

-„Hm?“ he asked back.

You sat up straight and looked at him.

„Why exactly did you break up with her?“

He smiled and turned his head away from you.

„You know the answer.“

You shook your head. „No I dont, thats why I asked.“

Arón chuckled cutely before replying:“Guess.“

No reason popped up in your head besides the fact that he might not have loved her anymore.

„Tell me.“ you demanded and grabbed his hand off your leg.

He laughed again and then finally looked at you.

„I could show you.“

You nodded.

And after he smiled at you once again, he brought his hand up to your cheek to caress it softly.

He kept staring into your eyes, then his brown eyes fell to your lips and back up to your eyes.

You knew exactly what he was going to do and you kind of knew it was too soon because your ex broke up with you not even 3 hours ago but it did feel like the right thing to do.

Aróns face came closer and you already closed your eyes to enjoy this moment.

Then you felt his soft lips on your and just let go.

You fully concentrated on him and this very moment. All your thoughts were gone and all you did was kiss him.

After a couple of seconds you pulled away and smiled at him.

He smiled too. Everything felt perfect until you suddenly felt very very strange.

Your stomach didnt feel good.

And before you could react, your head shot around and you threw up on the ground to your right.

Arón instantly held your hair back before you noticed him laughing.

You finished your business and came back up to him.

„Sorry.“ you apologized and wiped a bit of saliva off your mouth.

„Am I that bad of a kisser?“ he joked and stroked your red cheek.

You laughed too and replied:“Maybe. Maybe we have to do this again another time so you can improve.“

Arón took your face in his hands and said:“Alright, teach me then.“ before placing a soft kiss on your forehead and whispering one last word:“Babygirl.“

[infj-zen]

#GetSorted challenge

#GetSorted from mbti-sorted

Okay, for interest’s sake I’m going to answer a few of these questions in writing. It’s almost midnight, we’ve been in COVID-19 lockdown for a while now and I don’t look camera ready.

Actually, that’s an excuse.

I would not go on camera even if there were no pandemic.

To everyone who does the video challenge, congratulations on your bravery.

So, here goes...

Tell us about a teacher or a coach who left a big impression on you. I had a longstanding EFSJ music teacher who would probably be considered charismatic, dominant, driven, hot-tempered, sometimes extremely funny. She emphasized repetition so that all her students had as close to perfect technique as possible. You were not allowed to have any input into her methods and students with a lot of opinions usually left or were asked to leave. She was very good at teaching the way she taught and for some students her methods worked particularly well. I learned that I did not like learning by repetition and did not retain as much that way. However, by subjugating my own preferences I was forced to address my weaknesses. Maybe it resulted in personal growth in terms of seeing the value of repetition in developing physical technique, muscle memory, and the memorization of music. I think it would have helped to also have combined the emphasis on repetition with explanations of the history and theory of the music in order to more fully understand and retain what I had learned. I also learned how to be self-effacing when I needed to be and not to insert ego or opinions where they were not wanted when I later had bosses with similar personality traits. I learned to be more selective and to actively try and put myself in long-term situations where I would be learning/working in the ways most conducive to me. Besides this learning experience, I had some really amazing science and English teachers in later years of high school and university. These were mostly ENTPs along with a few ENFPs and ENTJs. I found the ENTJs often had the most clear explanations for complex subjects. The best ENTP teachers were often very personally considerate and good at explaining things in ways that were easily understandable to me; I was good at synthesizing their ideas. The ENFPs were probably more smooth speakers and yet somewhat less easy to follow for me (they probably also addressed weakness in how I learned, for example, by not always explaining what they wanted super clearly beforehand; learning was a lot of trial and error; we did a lot of acting and oral presentations in class; Ne and Te make for a different way of thinking theoretically, of connecting ideas and facts).

What was your favourite subject in school and did you pursue it as a career? English and Chemistry. I pursued English in University and probably would have gone into Chemistry otherwise. However, I then realized I liked researching as an activity more than actually doing all that academic English involved and ended up studying and working in social sciences - somewhere I never considered when I was younger. A background in literature and writing is generally useful in the various jobs I’ve had though.

Do you have any athletic injuries and how did you get them? Yes, tendonitis from dancing (repetitive jumping and landing on the ball of the foot). This was as a child and it was not permanent.

Do you believe in any supernatural phenomena? No, but I can imagine a lot.

Tell us about a recurring conflict with a family member. Probably the most recent common recurring conflict revolves around being in a conversation with ‘a family member’ who is not listening and responding appropriately. For example, I am talking and ‘a family member’ to whom I am speaking responds by addressing something that takes on a totally different issue from that which I just referenced. Is the listening fine and the responding not? Is the listening poor and the responding good? Are both the listening and the responding off? Is my articulation poor? Is it mind manipulation?

What character do you identify with the most and why? The closest thing I’ve seen on screen is probably Caroline Turing in Person of Interest. Episode 23, Season 1 of POI features an INFJ actress playing something very close to an INFJ psychologist. Her mannerisms, speech patterns and interactions with her ISTP co-star (playing an ISTP former-military-guy-acting-as-a-patient-to-save-her-from-hitmen) are pretty realistic. Unfortunately, her real character, Samantha Groves aka Root, a serial killer for hire is only pretending to be Caroline Turing in order to gain access to the ISTP’s INTJ computer genius boss (played by an INTJ) and his AI surveillance system. So, the portrayal of this character only lasts for one episode.

How many languages do you speak?  Is English your first language?  If it isn’t, answer a question in your native language (please summarize it after in English!). Two. English (native speaker) and French.

What advice would you give to your younger self and what would they think of where you are now? Would you warn them about anything? Maybe just that what fields you enjoy studying in and working in may end up being different areas. In terms of having better job prospects, I might advise my younger self to study a subject like software engineering (which I didn’t have a lot of knowledge of or exposure to through our high school education system). That might be very useful in finding a fulfilling job now or in complementing the degree or field I went into. Also, I was extremely driven when I was younger and I would probably advise myself to take school more slowly, less courses at a time, more time to focus on course work, and generally to manage things in a way that resulted in less burnout.

Do you people-gather?  (If you’re unsure, ask others in your group(s) if they’re there because of you.)  How many groups do you belong to, and what do you think of this? Not so much for the people-gathering. I do not join a lot of groups. Usually, when I do, it is because I got dragged into it by someone charismatic and friendly. I often stay with the group for a relatively lengthy period. I end up feeling highly committed out of a sense of loyalty to the recruiter/group. At some point I end up leaving the group (often involves physically moving away to justify) and having a sense of extreme burnout when the mention of joining anything similar comes up.

Are you passionate about your career? Tell us about it. Sort of. I went into my career with the idea that I would have less chance of burnout if I went into something I was dispassionate about. For example, less interaction with people (using Fe) and more paperwork (using Ni and Ti). Some of my jobs have involved a lot of customer service and the use of Fe all day was overstimulating and emotionally draining. The best jobs so far involved working at a desk 9-5 and basically using a lot of Ni and Ti while organizing information in systems. This felt like meditating; I would achieve a zen-like state and feel energized afterwards. I would not say I was passionate about the nature of the work but the zen-like feeling was nice. In terms of being passionate, I think I might prefer a job that involved more of a research component. I think I would like to feel more challenged, to learn a lot of new things every day. However, I would not like to be in a career that feels too passionate for really long periods of time, or in a high-stress environment that would result in burnout. I would like more of a balance. You can always find hobbies you are passionate about on the side.

Which holiday brings you the least joy? Labour Day. The thought of going back to school or work ruins it.

Are you a heartbreaker or a heartbreak-ee? 50-50.

What is your dream car?  Or if you aren’t into cars, what piece of technology do you dream of owning? I really like my laptop.

Would you rather make a lot of money at a job you hate or do a job you love that keeps you below the poverty line? I would rather have a job I love that keeps me below the poverty line because I don’t spend a lot. However, I would not like to have a job that keeps me way below the poverty line, because then I would feel used and would start to hate the job that kept me so much below the poverty line.

Do you collect anything? Other than information gathering, not really. The idea of accumulating large quantities of physical items and taking care of all of them sounds like a lot to think about or unnecessary stress.

Have you ever had any alternative career paths/life gameplans?  Do you wish you had taken another path in retrospect? Sure. Chemistry or Software Engingeering looked interesting and probably would have helped in the job market, even in combination with the field I’m in. That way, my skills might have been more of a focus than personality, career-wise.

Do you have a good sense of direction?  How do you navigate (when you can’t rely on GPS)?  Do you navigate new places/buildings the same way you navigate your home town/familiar buildings?  Is your sense of time better or worse than your sense of direction? No, I do not have a good sense of direction. Mbti-sorted is the only person I know whose sense of direction is worse than mine. And that only applies when walking somewhere. When driving somewhere, she has a better sense of direction. I am decent but not excellent with maps, professionally made and drawn by me. With a place I know well, I just walk around without thinking much. Usually it’s okay. Sometimes, I’m surprised to be lost in a place I thought familiar. With new places, I usually plan ahead. I study maps, bring them with me, compare the map with the physical reality around me for similarities and differences, get upset by perceived inaccuracies, visualize the layout of the land if the land and the map were flipped in different directions, try and detect logical patterns in street layouts and names, I try and remember locations of importance and what they look like, directions between key starting points and destinations, and I take down numbers for taxis in case of failure. Sometimes I walk new streets rather than drive in order to actively experience routes more slowly and have time to memorize them better. My sense of time is okay but not great. I feel the need to meet deadlines. I remember I used to rush to classes at the last minute for school, but I guess I did feel the need to get there on time. I have learned to avoid rushing, to be more responsible and set alarms and to carry a cell phone with a clock around with me to arrive on time and often early for important events. Probably my sense of time is better than my sense of direction.

Credit to Temple Grandin for this question: if I tell you to think of a church steeple, what’s happening inside your head? (You could also talk about a clock tower, or a water tower, or a minaret - something you are familiar with, but have less personal connection to works best.) I immediately thought of a white, aluminum sided cube topped by a black pyramid with light blue sky in the background. My mind was adverse to or somehow felt it unnecessary to think beyond that.

Would you be unable or unwilling to answer any of these questions?  Which? No, in that I answered all the questions. I guess I did so in writing and was unwilling to answer them on video. I think you can almost always figure out how to phrase things in a way that is acceptable to you in writing. Yes, in as much as message is affected by medium.

C. ANSWER THESE THREE QUESTIONS (30 seconds):

How much preparation did you do before making this video?  If you have an interviewer, did you pick the questions or did they?  Who decided to do it that way? A bit / no interviewer / me

What type do you think you are? INFJ

In 1-3 adjectives, describe how you think others see you. Calm and conscientious (from collegues and acquaintances), scrappy (from family).

[chasseurdeloup-retired]

Same Time, Same Place || Mina and Kaden

TIMING: Current LOCATION: The woods PARTIES: @drowningisinevitable​ and @chasseurdeloup​ SUMMARY: You can’t hunt here, I hunt here.

The one constant in Kaden’s life was hunting. It was his childhood, it was what he had when he lost his family, and it was what had carried him through life. It was the one thing he could always come back to when nothing made sense. That seemed to be less and less his current truth. Hunting had gotten confusing. His black and white rules no longer felt so clear. It was like someone had spilled something on his hunter’s code, his father’s journals and texts, and the writing was bleeding into one another, making it illegible and fuzzy, crisp black text turning to grey. Maybe if he returned to the familiar, he could find his balance again. He had to go back to training, make sure he knew what his reflexes were meant to do, keep them in check while everything else about his legacy fell apart around him.

Kaden picked through the woods to the clearing he’d taken Blanche to a few times now. It was the best for firearm and ranged weapons practice, no doubt. He heard something before he saw it. Kaden pulled out his pistol from his holster as he carefully stepped through the trees to the more open space in the middle of the woods. He kept the gun ready as he peaked through, trying to see what was causing the sound. No mistaking, there was another human there, smaller, female if he had to guess. Was it… “Pipsqueak?” he called out. Maybe Blanche had come here without him. But as soon as he had her attention and got a better look at her, it was clear he was wrong. “Sorry, not who I-- Didn’t expect to see anyone out here.” He kept the gun lowered, but he didn’t put it away just yet. “What are you doing out here?”

Growing up, Mina had always fought so desperately to be human, to be a hunter. All she ever wanted was to shed her scales forever, to never go in the water again, if it meant that she wouldn’t be a monster. Because her father’s teachings were clear: humans mattered, and monsters did not, and anyone that wasn’t human was a monster. He taught her about hunting for people and for prize (prize, in his eyes, always meaning a little more than the people), and she always believed that she’d grow into the desire to hunt. Her father’s genes, his human genes, would win out in that aspect, and she’d be useful, not a monster. Well, after being in White Crest for almost a year, she was beginning to see that she was a pitiful excuse for a hunter, and she’d never be human. There was a small but steadily growing part of her that wondered if that was such a bad thing. That part of her made Mina a terrible hunter’s daughter.

It wasn’t like it mattered much, anyway, Mina thought bitterly, if the promise killed her. She had no intention of fulfilling it. At this point, days were about going through motions, waiting with baited breath to see what would happen. She was consumed with nervous energy, but, instead of going to the lake, she’d decided to go to a small clearing where she’d taken to throwing knives. The steady thunk thunk thunk of blades hitting tree trunks was soothing. She hadn’t even been paying attention to any incoming sounds until the man was right upon her. Mina’s heart stuttered a bit in her chest, and she clenched one of the knives she was holding. “Not, ah, a pipsqueak, I don’t think. I’m averagely tall. At least I assume.” She tucked a bit of hair behind her ear and rocked on her heels. “I’m, well, throwing knives?” She looked at the knife in her hand; yes, that’s exactly what she’d been doing. “I was, I mean, I can... what are you doing out here?”

“Yeah, I know. I thought you were someone else.” Kaden wasn’t sure if he’d almost hoped that it was Blanche out there, doing target practice. Maybe he wanted a moment to redeem himself. Or maybe he wanted to continue to pretend to be normal, wasn’t sure. Didn’t matter, wasn’t her either way. He decided to just sheath his gun at this point, the girl there looked like she wasn’t a monster waiting to attack him. Plus, he was pretty sure he could take her if she tried. “I can see that. Why are you throwing knives?” He tried to take a peek around her to see how many were poking out of the tree. It was a decent amount, most stuck. And they seemed to be embedded in the trunk pretty deep, too. If he had to guess… “I came out here for target practice. Looks like you beat me to it.” He sighed. Of course. He couldn’t even get training right. “You plan on being here much longer?” He considered asking if the was a hunter but maybe he’d wait and see. For once, he’d like to be the one not showing his entire hand. Granted, the arsenal strapped to his back might have done that for him already.

As the man holstered his gun, Mina let her knife hang loosely in her hand. “Sorry,” she said, softly. “That I’m not who you were expecting.” She hadn’t realized this clearing was so popular. It was almost always empty when she came around, though that had become a bit sporadic over the last few months. Perhaps, if she came more often, she’d encounter more people, since this guy apparently had a friend that came sometimes, too. Perhaps… it was better that she didn’t come so often. “Funny, that. Target practice. I thought it’d be relaxing for a bit.” Which it had been, for a bit. Though, eventually, going through the motions of throwing a pointy object at a tree left a lot of time for thinking, and thinking, and thinking far too much. Mina cocked her head to the side for a bit, taking in the man, his equipment. “I could let you have a go, if you’d like. Ah, leave, even.” She was focused on his gun. The words fell out of her mouth before she could really stop them. “Use that often? The gun?”

“Don’t be,” Kaden told her. “It’s probably for the best that she wasn’t out here trying to be a badass in a sling.” If he was going to teach Blanche anything, he was pretty sure he should start with cooking and save the one handed shooting for later. If ever. Still, strange how she’d found the same spot he had. It was a big forest after all. Maybe he’d been away trying to be normal for too long, he’d lost the claim to his training spot. Served him right. “Relaxing, huh? So you just throw those for fun? That it?” It was a bit of a challenge, though not meant to be too harsh. He wanted to nudge her in the right direction, if she was a hunter, that was. Guess he’d wait and see. “You were here first. I can wait. Or something,” he said with a shrug. It was possible there was somewhere nicer, even. Better. But wandering around looking for it seemed fucking annoying. His brow raised at her question and he leaned against one of the trees nearby in the meantime. “Sure do,” he said with a wry smile. He looked down to pull it out, show her if she was curious. Is it too late to fake my death and skip town? His brow furrowed as his hand hovered over his weapon. “Fake your death and skip town? Over what? This? Sounds a little dramatic.”

“A badass in a sling?” Mina asked, just a bit confused. “Does your friend often do target practice injured?” That sounded a bit familiar, training even when you probably shouldn’t because of an injury. Long nights soaking in whatever lake or stream or river she called home to take out some of the aches of overused muscles, to mend broken bones. She wondered about this man, his friend. Perhaps they were among the many hunters around here. Perhaps they were people like Morgan who just wanted to protect themselves. “It’s very fun,” Mina said lightly, expertly throwing the knife up and catching it. She felt comfortable calling herself that, an expert. She had a good aim, and her dad made sure she could fight with a blade, even if she didn’t want to. She looked closely at the man, making a note of his confidence. He definitely seemed like a hunter. “My dad likes handguns. He has a Glock.” At his question, she furrowed her own brow, expression mirroring his a bit. “What? I didn’t, ah, I have no intentions to skip town? Or fake my death, for the matter. That seems a bit silly.”

“She does a lot of stupid shit while injured. So yeah, target practice was on the list.” Kaden shook his head. It was probably for the best that Blanche wasn’t a hunter, she’d run into even more danger faster. And the enhanced healing would just mean she’d do it all over again sooner. Sure, that’s what he did, but he was trained for this shit. Theoretically. As much as he loathed his mother’s ghost, she had a point back then, his training was slipping, falling by the wayside. This wasn’t helping much. Kaden left his gun where it was and crossed his arms in front of his chest instead. “You definitely look like you know what you're doing. You learn that from your dad? Or is he a guns only kind of guy?” He was so close to asking outright, perhaps she was, too. The song and dance was necessary, though, kept him safe. Just in case the answer wasn’t what he expected. “Okay, guess that’s good. But why did you say it, then?” Was he going crazy? She had said that, right? He definitely heard it and it didn't sound like his thoughts. It had to be her speaking. Maybe she had said it softly, didn’t think he could hear her. If that was the case, maybe she wasn't a hunter. At least not a beast hunter.

This man’s friend definitely sounded like a hunter. Doing stupid things while injured was a staple for every single one Mina had ever met, especially younger ones. Though, hunters didn’t live to be that old. “I’m glad she’s not doing this stupid thing, then,” she said. She messed with the knife, no longer as a way to show off but just because it was something in her hands, something to do. “He likes knives, too. Anything, really. He’s big into all kinds of weaponry. What about you? That’s quite an arsenal you have.” They’re beating around the bush in a way that seemed a bit silly, but it was best to be cautious in these things. At least this was close to getting an outright answer. There were quite a few people in town that Mina simply had assumptions about, not actual answers. “I… didn’t say anything. Not about faking deaths and running away, at least. You brought that up first.” Then, she started to second guess herself. Did she? Did he? “Right? I don’t think I did?”

“Does he?” Kaden said. He had come out there with a few guns, the crossbow, and he always had a good number of knives on him. “He sounds like someone who enjoys a good hunt.” Alright, it wasn’t subtle. But they were reaching a point where someone had to toe the line a little more, see how it landed. “Oh, these?” he said, looking back at the weapons he’d carried with him out to the woods. “Small portion of the collection. Couldn’t decide what I wanted to work on, so I brought a variety.” He reached back and pulled the crossbow of his back and stared fiddling with it. It really had been too long since he held a weapon, since he’d trained and perfected his craft. If only he could get to doing just that. “You have any experience with one of these?” he asked, holding out the weapon. “Or are you one to stick with knives?” He wasn’t sure what he could suss out from comparing weapon choices, but it was a place to start, see how trained she was perhaps. “Are you sure?” His brow furrowed at her response. “I could have sworn…” Could not hunting make him crazy? Maybe it was the nightmares he was having recently messing with his mind. Fucking teenagers. “Okay, this time I definitely heard you say something about teeangers.” Only this time he had been looking right at her and her lips never moved. Was he reading her thoughts or something? What the fuck was this?

“He’s an avid hunter,” Mina said, relaxing a bit more. There. It was good to get that out in the open, or as open as they were allowing it without actually saying I hunt supernatural creatures for a living. Not that Mina did. She had no idea about this man, his lifestyle, especially when he carried a small armory on his back. “It’s a nice collection. Plenty of options to choose from.” For all she knew, he might turn on her as quickly as Montgomery had when they first met. “I can shoot it,” she said easily, looking the crossbow over. “I do better with close combat. Ah, defensive styles, though I do pretty well with blades.” Luring Fae in required her to get close to them. The idea had always been for her to provide them a false sense of security and a knife in the back. However, she’d never-- would never-- quite gotten around to the killing part. “I promise I didn’t say anything to you about faking my death just now,” Mina said, dropping the word and waiting for it to sink in her stomach if she was lying. Nothing. She definitely didn’t say anything about it. “Or anything about teenagers? I… am afraid I don’t know where teenagers would come up in the conversation?” This man was perplexing. Was this some new hunting tactic? Was he actually a hunter? But he seemed to think she was a hunter. She tapped her finger on her knife blade, feeling a bit anxious. Something was off about this.

“Nice. I am, too.” Was he? Avid, that was? Putain, he was. Kaden still was an avid hunter. Most of the time. He missed two fucking full moons, was that fucking avid? He didn’t know anymore. “Thanks,” he said as he let the crossbow rest at his side. “I tend to go for silver weapons. You know, they have a nice advantage. Either you or your dad have any preference?” Too on the nose? Possibly. But it seemed like an easy way to sort out what kind of hunting she did, learn where the cards fell. “I’m alright with close combat if I’ve got a good knife but ranged is easier when hunting we--” Kaden caught himself. “Things. You know. Anyway, your dad live in town, too?” For all he knew, they were already well acquainted, maybe went on a few hunts together. Though it depended on what kind of hunter he was. And he had a guess as to what kind after what she said next. He froze, eyes going wide at her use of the word “promise.” He nearly dropped the damn crossbow. “You…” he started, tentatively. It felt like a dangerous word to say after everything. And he felt safer knowing that he couldn’t say it to Regan but that didn’t keep him from using it now. “You should probably be careful with words, you know. But uh, good to know you didn’t, uh…” He wasn’t sure what was happening anymore. So much for coming out here to try and relieve some of his confusion. “Sorry, think I must be hearing things. You haven’t, right? Heard anything? Weird?”

Taking in this man, his stance, his equipment, yes, Mina could believe that he, too, was an avid hunter. She nodded. “My dad likes silver weapons. They’re his favorite. That’s what I use, mostly. Kind of flashy, but they do their job.” Easier to practice with, too, without risk of iron burns. She hadn’t used a knife in an actual hunt in… a very, very long time. “I work a bit with iron, too, though,” she added, as much as it pained her. Better to be truthful with this man, this hunter. If he was an actual beast hunter, he’d pick up pretty quick that she wasn’t one. “Ranged is certainly better when hunting… animals,” Mina said. “My dad’s working, travelling, actually. I’m here for college.” And to hunt, which she was doing a piss poor job of. “He’ll, ah, be in town soon, though.” The man’s reaction to the word “promise” was interesting. Usually, it was wardens that were mostly concerned about promises. Unless, perhaps, this werewolf hunter had some negative experiences with Fae. In which case… it would most likely be best if Mina didn’t let him know what she was. Most hunters had prejudices against all supernaturals, anyway. It wouldn’t be surprising to add one more to the list. “Don’t worry, I’m quite careful with my words. I wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t sure.” That lie brought a wave of nausea to her stomach, but she did her best not to let it show. It was a good day, at least, for all that her night had been filled with thoughts of blood and death and horrible, undead beasts. No nose bleeds, no outbreaks of scales or claws when she didn’t want them. His question was strange, though. “Heard… what kinds of weird things?”

Kaden’s shoulders dropped and he relaxed to hear that both her and her father were just beast hunters. Good. There was no danger of her going after anyone he car-- The tension in his muscles instantly returned and he stood up straight, no longer leaning on the tree. “Iron?” He asked, trying to wipe any look of pure panic off his face. “I mean, iron. Yeah. Not really my thing. Uh, good for you, though.” That was normal, right? Shit, he was pretty sure this kid couldn’t take down Regan. Right? His eyes drifted back to the knives stuck out of the tree across the way. Putain. He snapped back to look at her when she mentioned her dad would be in town soon. “Is that so?” Shit. He could just as easily be a warden as a beast hunter given that specialties were usually genetic. Maybe they were like Walker and unspecialized. Meaning they were an equal threat to people he cared about. Shit. “You’re pretty confident that I wouldn’t bind you with words, then. Seems a little brazen. But hey, that’s your issue not mine.” Maybe he was overreacting. No way a warden would throw around the word “promise,” right? And she really hadn’t heard anything weird, had she? Fuck, maybe he was just going crazy after all. “Uh, it’s hard to explain. I think it might be in my head. But I was sort of thinking it might just be a whisper. A shocking amount of thoughts about dead bodies.” It was entirely possible he just spent too much time around Regan. But sharing thoughts was a little fucking much.

Mina watched the other hunter, perplexed at his reaction. He seemed to revolve between being relaxed and tense without warning. “Iron, yes. Though, I’m not, I mean, I’m not good. With iron. Or being, you know, in general.” He could probably see right through her. She felt a bit less confident than she had before, looking at the knives sticking out of the tree. Mina always felt less confident around real hunters, seasoned hunters, ones like this one that looked and walked and breathed like hunters. Somehow, she just knew that they could tell she was a fraud. “Yes, though I don’t know when he’s coming in. I’d like to see him,” she said, though it would kill her. Every passing day without him here increased her anxiety. He’d told Q that he’d be in White Crest soon, but “soon” was such an arbitrary word. Soon could be months from now. Soon could be tomorrow. She had no way to tell. “A human cannot promise bind another,” she said carefully, scrutinizing him. What did this man know of promise binds? “And I was careful with my words. I did not, in that moment, tell you that I intended to fake my death. Making such a promise wouldn’t hurt because it was true, and it was only for the moment. Promises are only as dangerous as their wording makes them.” This man was baffling. “You’re hearing things in your head? About dead bodies? Do… do the voices… want you to create more dead bodies, or do they just talk about dead bodies?” Perhaps not, since the voices had told him they were considering faking their own death, but, still. A homicidal hunter was not someone Mina wanted to be around if he snapped.

Was she saying she was a bad warden? Is that why she was bad with iron? Kaden was certainly more confused than he had been a moment ago but he definitely wasn’t more relaxed. A bad warden was still a warden all the same. “Well if he comes into town, make sure you tell him about the Silver Bullet. I’ll buy him a drink if I see him. What’s his name, if you don’t mind me asking?” Oh, right. Guess they didn’t know each other’s names either. Huh. Either way, getting a drink with a warden while dating a fae sounded like the worst fucking idea he’d had in a long damn time. Then again, friends close, enemies closer, all that. “Guess you must be really positive I’m human, then.” Which meant either she was a warden who could sense fae. Or… No. There was no way she could be fae. That woudln’t make any fucking sense, not after the whole conversation they’d had. She had to be a warden. “I mean, I am. Still, have to be careful with it. It’s pretty easy to twist words, even if the words hold true in your mind.” Though surely that wasn’t something he needed to explain to any warden. “Uh, yeah I am-- I mean no! No they’re not telling me anything just, uh…” Kaden reached up to rub the back of his neck as he trailed off. Fuck, he didn’t know how to explain this. And then, with no fucking warning, his hand moved in a punching motion. A weird one he’d never done before. He was decent at a bar brawl but this was martial arts shit that he definitely did not know. “What the fuck?” Kaden shook it out and tried to make it look natural or intended. Something other than what it was which was a punch he hadn’t controlled. “Uh, there was, ah, uh bee. Hate them. Sorry. I, uh, yeah. You want to stay? I can come back later. Unless you want to spot each other or something. I’m good either way.” Putain, he should probably leave while he was being this fucking weird. But it felt wrong not to offer help to another hunter. Even if she was potentially a warden.

“I’ll be sure to tell him should it come up,” Mina said, though she left out that the likelihood of her and her dad having that conversation was pretty slim. “Ah, his name is Eric. Eric Fitzroy. My name is Mina.” She felt a bit awkward, realizing how long they’d been talking without even getting to some sort of introduction. However, this whole encounter had been a bit awkward and strange, even by White Crest standards. Though, at least there were no monsters lurking about, waiting to attack. Perhaps that would make things less awkward. “If you’re not human, then you do a very good job at playing hunter. Crossbow? Gun? The Silver Bullet?” She wasn’t allowed there, though she knew about it, too scared for someone to get the wrong impression of her and too unnerved by the way some hunters bragged about their trophies to even want to know. “It’s very important to be careful, yes. But I grew up learning to be very careful with my words. I can safely say that I try not to make promises without meaning them.” Of course, it was for the benefit of those around her, not herself. She nodded her head as he talked about the voices, though she had absolutely no idea what he meant. When he began punching at the air despite the fact that he claimed his voices were nonviolent, Mina began to nod a bit more emphatically. “RIght! Of course! A bee!” She looked down at her bag and gave a small sigh. “Truthfully? I wasn’t getting much accomplished. I haven’t been training much, these days, and this was hardly anything strenuous. I might just pack up for the night and head home.”

“Good. Nice to meet you. Kaden, by the way.” He made a serious mental note to ask around the Bullet about Fitzroys, see what kind of hunters they were. As much as she had indicated warden, he couldn’t be completely sure. And if there was a threat to Regan, well, he hated that he’d have to try and shepherd them away from her but apparently that was the case. She’d never know what to look for and even if she did, he doubt she’d be prepared to deal with things in the way they had to be. “Yeah, yeah, I gave it away. Figured it was safe enough to. You know, unless you’re just as good at playing hunter.” He nodded at her response, continuing to try and act like the whole weird shit with his hand was completely intentional. Clearly it wasn’t working too well. “Alright, that works for me. Whatever you want. But if ever want some tips or something, let me know. Backup too, if you need it. I’m always up for helping another hunter.” Not that he’d given her a whole lot of reason to trust him just now, but the offer stood all the same.

[samsonet]

celebrity beef

There are three dynamics the paparazzi can’t get enough of: passionate love, passionate rivalry… and passionate hate.

Nessa’s aiming for love with Sonia. She’s trying for rivalry with Milo. What’s left of her heart — the part that hates — belongs to Piers.

Theoretically, anyway.

*

Nessa’s halfway through her glass of wine when the room goes silent.

The reason for the silence holds his head up high, lip curled as though he’s physically restraining himself from calling everyone tossers.

Talk about a first impression.

Piers Camburn, Spikemuth’s gym leader. Piers Camburn, the one trainer in the league who refuses to Dynamax. Piers Camburn, the grungy punk rocker who is the complete opposite of Nessa and everything Hulbury represents.

It’s a recurring plotline, this beef they have going. Nessa is proud, almost Mean Girl-ishly so. Piers is stubborn, digging in his skull-studded heels when anyone dares ask him to follow the same rules as everyone else.

The event photographers get their shots. Nessa is expecting that, even counting on it.

There are three dynamics the paparazzi can’t get enough of: passionate love, passionate rivalry… and passionate hate.

Nessa’s aiming for love with Sonia. She’s trying for rivalry with Milo. What’s left of her heart — the part that hates — belongs to Piers.

Theoretically, anyway.

She watches from across the room, looking for her sign.

Piers makes eye contact with her. He licks his lips, their signal.

She turns to Kabu and Milo and says, “I just remembered. I left my purse downstairs — could you get it for me? I’d go myself, but I’m wearing heels.”

Kabu raises an eyebrow, then casts a meaningful look toward Piers. He must know she’s just trying to get them out of the way.

What he says, though, is “what does your purse look like?”

In minutes he and Milo are out of the room. Nessa takes another sip of her wine.

Then she says, in a voice soft enough to be plausibly private but loud enough to definitely be heard, “Look who the Purrloin dragged in.”

Right on cue, Piers turns to glare at her. “Something to share with the class, Ms. Hannan?”

“Oh, nothing,” she says, raising her glass to her lips. The merlot is bitter, delicious. “Just surprised you decided to come, considering you’ve blown off the last six events.”

The other guests retreat near the walls, clearing a battleground. Nessa knows this movement well: it’s how the Chewtle act when Golisopod and Grapploct prepare to fight.

Piers stares at her like he’s sizing her up. “Some of us need to care for our gyms, Ness’. We ain’t all spoiled models like you.”

“Some of us know how to accept help, Piers.”

Strike. Dodge. Strike again. Their argument is a dance. In her mind, Nessa sets it to music.

It’s not a party without a little drama.

“How’s Hulbury treating you lately?” Piers asks. “Having fun down there at the bottom of the league?”

“It’s wonderful. How’s your stadium? Oh, right. You don’t have one, because you’re so special you can fight without Dynamaxing.”

They’ve got rules about this: battle skill, personal aesthetic, their friends, whatever — almost anything is fair game. The only parts that aren’t are their Pokémon and their sisters.

Piers has a sharp tongue, but so does Nessa. She knows neither of them take it personally.

“Bold words for someone who’s never struggled a day in her life.”

“I’ve fought and won what I have! You were given everything!”

They let the tension hang for a moment.

“Don’t talk to me about competition until you prove you’re worth it.” Then Piers gives the signal that he’s ready to end this: “Even Milo doesn’t think you’re good enough to be his rival.”

(That’s another reason why she had to get Milo out of the way before they started.)

Nessa gasps loudly, putting on her most offended expression. She stomps up to Piers and gets in his space, so close their noses almost touch.

“You. Don’t. Know. Anything. About us.”

Piers snorts.

Nessa takes her wine glass and pours it over his head.

*

Melony insists on taking Nessa home after that. Probably some motherly instincts or whatnot. Nessa allows the other to walk her out of the ballroom, noting with some satisfaction that the great Raihan is leading Piers out the other door.

Later that night, after she gets Melony to go back to Circhester, Nessa heads to Spikemuth.

Piers lets her in through the side gate. Nobody is around to see them. Even if they were, people in Spikemuth know not to mess in their gym leader’s business.

Which is good. Because for all the wine she’d sipped at the party, Nessa’s looking forward to hitting the hard stuff.

Piers doesn’t disappoint.

“Well,” he says, slamming down his whiskey glass, “if that doesn’t get us trending on Chattr, I don’t know what will.”

Nessa downs hers. “Cheers to that.”

Because that’s what it’s all about, in the end. Fights mean drama, drama means attention, attention means tickets to their next exhibition match will sell out in minutes.

Good for Nessa. Good for Piers. Good for Hulbury and Spikemuth.

And all it takes is pretending they can’t stand each other.

Nessa pours another glass.

She sips this one, savoring the burn. “My sponsors are getting on my case again.”

“Wankers.” That’s Piers, always taking her side without even asking if she might be in the wrong. “What is it now?”

“Social media presence. I got tagged in an unflattering photo and they’re mad.”

“Tossers. What other people post is not your problem.”

“Exactly! I love being a gym leader, don’t get me wrong, but — Arceus. I wish they’d leave me the fuck alone sometimes.”

Piers nods sympathetically. Nessa remembers, vaguely, that he doesn’t deal with sponsors, because Spikemuth gym is sponsored by Spikemuth’s own chamber of commerce. He doesn’t get the money that Nessa does, but he doesn’t have to deal with the headaches either.

Now that she’s vented a bit, she tries to think of something a bit more fun to talk about. “How’s Marnie doing?

This gets a genuine smile from him. “She’s great. I’m teaching her type advantages. She’s got a real knack for it, you know? In a couple of years she’ll be strong enough to beat Leon. Heh… What about your sister? Dart, right? She doing okay?”

“Dart’s alright. She hates your guts. Sorry about that, I can’t tell her the truth or she’ll be blabbing to everybody about it.”

“No problem. I get it.” Idly, he takes a lock of hair and starts twirling it. It’s a motion Nessa’s seen Sonia do a thousand times, but of course it looks different on Piers. Not least because that part of his usually-white hair has been stained pink from the wine she threw on him.

“Did you… were you going to take a shower? Sorry about that, I didn’t think it’d stain your hair.”

“It’s no problem,” he repeats. “It was going to stain anyway, with how long it took just to get here. It’ll go back to normal in a few weeks. Besides, havin’ it be visible like that, it’ll help sell the story, yeah?”

She nods. “Yeah… Well. I look forward to seeing Marnie challenge my gym. I promise I’ll be nice to her.”

“I promise to watch as she kicks yer arse. I’ll get the director’s cut, even.”

The director’s cut. For some reason, this strikes her as hilarious. She laughs loudly — and in a moment, Piers is laughing too.

They spend the next hour laughing together, enjoying the whiskey as the neon signs of Spikemuth flicker outside the window.

*

In the early hours of the morning, Nessa leaves the city. She calls a taxi from route nine, giving the driver a generous tip and requesting his silence.

By sunrise, she’s home.

[schrijverr]

Professor Elric?

After The Promised Day Edward is sent on a miliary mission to Hogwarts where he will teach Alchemy to his students. He is told not to interfere with their business, but he has a hard time not getting involved with this weird Voldy prick.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: none

Chapter 6 out of 10.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Umbitch was really getting on Edwards nerves. She had been on his trail like a bloodhound ever since he’d shown up. She wanted to know what the limitations of Alchemy where, what he knew about Amestris, if he knew You-know-who and how he taught. She had been aching to get inside his classroom, but so far he had managed to keep her out. It seemed like his luck had ran out, he knew he shouldn’t have told those fifth years he was a muggle, ever since that she had been unrelenting and now the day had come.

“Good morning class, as you can see we have a guest. Why she insists on coming I don’t know, but she is here to disrupt so expect this lesson to be a bit different that usual.” He began.

He nodded at Umbridge before turning back to his students and saying: “We have been studying Alchemic arrays for some time now. This will be the last theoretical lesson before we move on to doing Alchemy in the classroom. When I call on you, you will come forward and draw the array I tell you on this table. I will show it to the class and we’ll collectively decide if it is correct, if it is I will use it to transmute some of the materials I have here.”

“Hermione, could you please draw an array to transmute the rust of this iron dagger?” he asked.

The girl drew the perfect circle, which he knew she would. She was very smart, liked to study and just generally knew her stuff. Once the class had also determined it was the correct transmutation-circle he preformed transmutation. He didn’t do it often, so there were still a few gasps when the rusted iron dagger came out in perfect shape.

“Okay, next. Neville, could you draw an array to change this heap of chalk into some crayons for the board?” he said.

While the boy was drawing he looked at Umbridge, she was writing on her notepad while mouthing words to herself. It seemed harmless, but he had heard the stories, once she was comfortable in your classroom she would attack you with questions. He didn’t have more time to think about it, because Neville was done drawing.

He showed the array to the class and asked: “Draco, what do you think of Neville's array?”

Draco studied the array, he was like Hermione in academics although he was more of a prick about knowing things, though it was a close call. He had pulled a few stunts in his time in Edwards classroom, but he had also soon realized that without his friends here it was pretty useless to pit everyone against him, so he had quickly learned to shut up and he has been even pleasant after. After he’d studied it for a moment he said: “I can’t find a fault.”

“And you would be correct with that. This array is perfect, well done Neville and Draco.” he said, he was proud of Neville, the boy seemed to struggle a bit and he had made a mistake in the array last lesson, which is why he had asked the boy about it now.

Before he could transmute Umbridge cleared her throat, he shot her an unimpressed look, which she completely ignored. She asked: “Aren’t you going to give point to their houses for their job well done?”

He pretended to think about it then he said: “Are you asking me to take part in a house culture you created to pit students against each other and base their initial judgments upon which causes discrimination on yet another factor within this school and prevents friendships, because honestly I don’t feel the need to. They get praise when they do well and they learn, that is the reward in my classroom. I read the contract, nowhere does it state that I am required to give or take housepoints. Now, can I go on with my lesson or are you planning on interrupting even longer?”

Umbridge stayed quiet and Edward took that as a sign that she wouldn’t interrupt for now and went on. He did the transmutation and put the crayons by the board, he had been running low. Then he said: “Hannah, could you draw a basic array.”

They went through two more arrays before Umbridge felt the need to interrupt again. He had needed something from the table in the corner and he had walked over there to grab it. She said: “I’m curious, Mister Elric. Why don’t you use accio?”

“You are not curious, you just want to point out that I am a muggle.” he said with a sigh, “I honestly don’t see the need for you to dance around these things, just ask ‘hey, heard you were a muggle, is that true?’ so much easier and faster.”

She was taken aback by this, but quickly recovered sadly enough. She said: “I don’t see the need for your rudeness, Mister Elric. As a teacher of a magical subject it is quite concerning that you aren’t a wizard yourself. Are you even fit to teach?”

“There are a few things I want to address about that statement. Firstly, I don’t like you, so that will be Colonel Elric to you, secondly, Alchemy is science not magic, I will not be swayed on that point and thirdly, I am capable of doing what I teach, which is more than I can say for you, so I don’t understand the cause for your concern.” Edward told her.

“Colonel Elric, I will not be addressed like that.” she spat.

Edward shrugged: “My classroom, my rules. You don’t want to be addressed like you address me then there is the door. Have a good day.”

“You cannot kick me out, I am the High Inquisitor.” she said offended.

“I know, if it’s any help I call my commanding officer General Bastard, so it’s nothing personal. Or you could think it is, I never really got along with him.” this of course was a lie, he and Roy had become pretty good friends and it was now some kind of friendly nickname, but she didn’t need to know that.

She opened and closed her mouth a few times before she could gather her bearings, then she said: “I will not be kicked out, Colonel, but I do have a few more questions. How did you become a Colonel at, what was your age again?”

Edward rolled his eyes, ugh, this again, he was getting tired and he just wanted to get her out of his clssroom.

“Seventeen.” he replied, “And the whole story is a bit long, so I’ll give you the bullet points. I had to provide for me and my brother, so I became a State Alchemist at twelve. The State can be pretty dumb, they were convinced no child could pass their test and therefore an age restriction wasn’t necessary. I passed, being a State-Alchemist gives you a rank as Major. Are you following me so far? Good. I went on missions and discovered a conspiracy then last year we held a coup and overthrew the corrupt government. The then General Grunman came into power, he was the boss of my boss in the east. Everyone who helped with the coup got a big promotion. So, I am indeed a Colonel at seventeen.”

Everybody was quiet, they had expected a lot, but not this. Umbridge looked quite pale, which honestly, was to be expected, she herself was a government official and she was standing in front of a boy who had helped to overthrow his government at sixteen.

When she had recovered enough she immediately went in for emotional trauma: “Why did you have to provide for you brother at twelve.”

A dark look passed over his face, but he decided what the hell I’m in this hellhole now, might as well make her uncomfortable with my Tragic PastTM. So he said: “Well, it’s not really twelve, bit earlier really. Our dad is out of the picture, my mom died when I was five, but Grandma Pinako took us in. She’s the grandmother of our friend Winry, but her kids are dead too and she has a shop to run, so she didn’t really have the time or money for three kids. After that we lived with our teacher for a while, but she once she was done teaching us we had to leave. You might have had the luxury of a support system, but don’t assume everyone had.”

It was again quiet in the class. Edward wasn’t a private person per say, you could conclude that after the amount of times he had told people, strangers and friends alike, about his human transmutation back home, but he wasn’t someone who shared a lot without reason or prompting, especially not with his classes. He had learned and these people didn’t know him at all, he was a blank slate. He rather fill it with how awesome he was instead of how sad of a life he had lived.

“Well, was that all? Because you just wasted fifteen minutes of my class. In those fifteen minutes my students could have become a little smarter, broadened your tiny magic minds a bit more, but you just prevented that. Congratulations, you fail as a teacher.” he said.

Umbridge didn’t stay quiet, she protested: “‘Magic minds’ ,as you like to call them, aren’t small. You are generalizing.”

He raised one eyebrow and mustered his best unimpressed look as he said: “I find that hard to believe and I could argue that based on how you think I am incapable because of my age and non-magic background or I could generalize even more and ask you, if you look at the entire wizarding world, can you tell me how much it would collapse if magic were to suddenly disappear?”

Then he turned back to the board and wrote down CDR under each other before turning back to the class and asking: “Now, who can tell me what these letters stand for and why they are important?”

~

They were dismissed and an unhappy Umbridge walked out of the classroom. Hermione was the last one left and she made her way over to Mister Elrics desk. She bit her lip and said: “I know you don’t like to talk after you’ve dismissed us, but aren’t you worried about losing your job?”

He stopped rummaging in his back to give her a smile. “I’m sorry if I worried you there, but Umbridge is an annoying shit who loves power a bit too much. I know her type, but I also know her limitations. She can try to sack me, but I’ve been send over here to make a bridge between our countries, the Ministry doesn’t want to see me go and besides that, I don’t need this job, it might surprise you, but being a Colonel in a military state pays pretty good. I am planning to donate the money I earn here to some kind of charity and to give it some to friends who need it more than me.”

“Oh, now I feel kind of stupid.” Hermione said with a blush.

“Never feel stupid, you probably hear this a lot, but you are very smart. Alchemy is very hard and so far you are picking it up faster than I hoped. You’re going to see me around, but I do want to give you a bit of wisdom. Don’t doubt yourself and never dumb yourself down, you are picking up Alchemy, do not forget it. You are a wizard and from what I see and hear there is a war coming up, use what you learn, because wizards don’t know what to do when they’re faced with muggle solutions.” Mister Elric looked at her intently.

She nodded that she had understood and said: “When you’re giving wisdom like that it’s hard to remember that you’re just seventeen. My friend has two brothers who are your age, but have half the maturity.”

He laughed and thought, thanks it’s the trauma, but he said: “Yeah, I get that pretty often. Hey, you wouldn’t know a good wizard charity, would you?”

“Well, I am the founder of S.P.E.W., it’s for the freedom of house-elves, you should read about them, it’s horrible how wizards treat them.” Hermione said, “but if you think it’s dumb you could donate to St. Mungo’s, it’s the hospital, they could always use some money.”

“S.P.E.W., I’ll keep it in mind, thanks.” and he smiled at her again, then he said: “It’s getting late you’re going to have to run of you want to be in time for you next lesson.”

She paled a bit and cursed as she bid her goodbye and ran out of the classroom. She had so much to tell Ron and Harry at their next DA meeting.

[xxforsaken-angelxx]

=> Chat with your helmstroll.

After you finished your work for the night, you looked back over the conversations you’d had regarding that...ethical problem. The ethical helming problem, as you’d been phrasing it. The ethical helming problem of your ship being allegedly fond of Goldwave for some godforsaken reason, and you wanting to kick his ass to high heaven. Also, reportedly they might even be friends with Goldwave? That part still felt like a stretch to you, but any sign of anything was cause for a little alarm.

Like, no matter how you put it together, there just wasn’t much you could see to the situation beyond a silver-tongued, dastardly manipulator, and someone who would almost never say a single word that wasn’t generated by their algorithms. And Goldwave had already found some exploits in your security systems. Who’s to say he wouldn’t find more there? Loopholes up in Hydromatics whole system? Then you’d all just be fucked. Again. Just like the candy magic thing. You felt like you had to do something about him and Hydromatic preemptively, to make sure it could never happen.

And according to the internet, what you should do about Hydromatic is...talk to them. Which in retrospect, seemed pretty obvious. Ask a hippy ass question, get a hippy ass answer, or something. But you were willing to try it. Out of all the theoretical options, it was the most morally sound one that didn’t require a miracle in the ‘they only talk on script’ department. You could be all open and honest and shit without them choosing to talk back. What mattered was that they heard your side of things.

So there you were, sitting backwards in a chair that you dragged to the middle of the helmsblock, and matching the blank, unblinking stare of their glowing white eyes. It was your way of trying to signal that your presence in the conversation is humble and nonthreatening, yet frank and attentive, or something. You couldn’t exactly ease into the conversation with small talk, so you were doing this instead. Just kind of sitting there, looking casual and relaxed, until you finally decided to pipe up and call for them.

“Hydromatic?”

Their synthesized voice pumped in over the room’s speakers immediately, as courteous in tone as it is chilling in actual sound.

“How may I be of service, Grinmaww?”

“We need to talk,” you said, and they answered without hesitation.

“My communication channels are already open to you, Grinmaww. You may do with it as you wish.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed.

After collecting yourself, you tried to continue, finally admitting that “It’s about Goldwave.” They, in response, remained completely silent and motionless. You were beginning to think this was kind of a dumb idea.

But also, you were starting to think that maybe you just needed to force some words out and get past the awkwardness to hit the good ones. To that effect, you started with listen. When literally anything failed to follow, you said listen again, with more force. Hydromatic filled the pause that follows.

“My communication channels are already open to you, Grinmaww,” they said. “You may do with it as you wish.”

You sighed. Again.

“Look,” you said, intoning more seriously. “All I want here is to say some shit in your direction, and all I need you to do is be there and shut up and pay attention ‘till I say I’m done. Got it?”

It felt like there should've been a beat in the conversation at that moment, but there wasn’t. They immediately answered with “Understood, Grinmaww.”

Great. Wonderful. Room’s yours now. Just you and your quiet ass helm and like, emotions and shit. Bitchtits.

You took a deep breath, and began for real.

“I...don’t actually know how fond you are of this Goldwave guy. Maybe he’s your best friend, maybe he’s just a guy you know, maybe something else. Doesn’t actually matter. What matters to me is that he’s a bitch and a bastard, and I don’t like the thought of him taking advantage of you. As in ship you or just you you.”

Another steady breath, and a mental reshuffling of your notes.

“I want to make it very fuckin’ clear that I’m not gonna cut your contact with him unless I have to. Like, danger to the ship or he’s hurtin’ you have to. If he makes you happy, or even if it’s all just a whole lotta nothin’, then it ain’t my prerogative to stop you just because. I also wanna make it clear that I know you’re smart enough to handle just about anything, ‘cause otherwise they wouldn’t have put you in here. But that doesn’t mean you can’t get fucked over, and I’m concerned about it. I’m gonna trust you, a ‘lil more than they teach me to, but I’m concerned about it. So I...wanted to make sure you were aware of that, I guess.”

With that, you felt about finished, and there was a small weight off your shoulders. You almost slumped in your seat in its absence, breaking eye contact to look at the floor. After a moment filled with more controlled breathing and feelings of awkwardness, though, you then met their gaze again.

Between their undercut and the gas-mask they wore, only a quarter of their face was visible, and between a few second ago and now, that quarter didn’t look a single micrometer out of place. You wondered how the fuck they even did that. Like, sweeps of practice, sure, but having so much control over every little muscle twitch was still a goddamn talent. You remembered that thing one of your opinion benefactors said, about trying to find something else they cared about so they wouldn’t be as attached to Starship Asshole. Maybe they used to have some kind of hobby that gave them all that facial control...? Like acting. Or some kind of amateur modeling, maybe. Or dance. Don’t ballerinas have to stay real stony faced? Doesn’t seem like their thing, but there’s probably other stuff like that.

You caught them blinking. That’s another thing they have a weird amount of control over, you knew that they tried to time it so nobody would see. Apparently they like having that creepy, perpetual stare. Or maybe it’s like a game to them, too. The tiniest, saddest game in the world.

It’s about then that you realize you never said you were done talking, so by the letter of your orders, they couldn’t say anything even if they wanted to.

“I’m done,” you said, explicitly. “Any questions?”

Then they speak. “I have no questions at this time, Grinmaww.”

As fucking always. You gave one more sigh and rose out of your chair, grabbing the top to start dragging it back out of the room again, muttering

You’re almost to the door when you shut up, and they give their final canned response.

“It is a pleasure to be of service,” they say. 

[visualcommune]

Londs Reuter  0:24   No, but if that changes, I'll let you know. Thank you. Ari Wil  0:28   Okay. Um, so could you give me a description of your work? Yeah. Londs Reuter  0:36   I So, I guess, great question. I oversee sort of like three different programmatic domains at the Whitney and tour in my title and one isn't. So I work in community partnerships, which are mostly local neighborhood organizations. We want to be stakeholders at the Whitney Museum and influence interesting policy and programming and we want their buy in and we want to do right by them. So I'm, I'm part of that relationship and I have been in like, building those relationships and sustaining them. And so that's the community aspect of the work. I work in accessibility, which is really my background. Where I advise on exhibition design and planning. I also help run three different tours, like monthly tours of the museum for different disability communities. And then the third component that's like, not really in my title, but it sort of baked in is that I work a lot on senior programming and senior partner ships, which often take place off site at different senior centers, or community centers. And some of them take place here at the museum where they come and visit. And we also have a twice yearly sort of free day for seniors to come to the museum and get docent led tours. So that's the senior programming aspect of it. So yeah, three different domains. The work on the day to day looks a lot like calling and emailing and running around Ari Wil  2:32   OK. Yeah. Londs Reuter  2:34   But in support of those goals. Ari Wil  2:35   okay, and would you say that the overall goal, which is, is to ease the problematic, problematic nature of art? Londs Reuter  2:46   Hmm. I guess I'd want clarification on what the problematic nature of art is to you. Ari Wil  2:54   Okay. Okay. Well, here's the quote from you. I'm so sorry. I didn't Me, me me means to bring it out like that. Okay, I'm so sorry. You go artists a problem and then what you're addressing is how do we eat is problematic nature. So I was just wondering if Yeah, is that something that is that a concept you would apply to your work?Or like to those different areas? Where does that concept? Londs Reuter  3:19   Yeah. Ari Wil  3:23   I guess I guess I'm so sorry. I'm not trying to call you out for that. Londs Reuter  3:27   It's like communing with a former self and I'm like, Who are you? I don't believe in ideas of like universal access, or like this idea that anything is completely accessible to everyone. Which means that there are always problems for someone in anyone's access that like my access can actually mean your inability to access something at times. It doesn't always have to be in direct conflict, but they aren't always sort of mutually instinctual. So I guess the problems are ongoing and it means that like, the inherent nature of access work is to be constantly responding and changing and like offering options. So like you there is no perfectly accessible art because there is no perfectly accessible anything. Which I'm I think some people disagree about that. Most disabled folks don't disagree. Yeah. In my experience. Yeah. Which means artists problem like everything else. Ari Wil  4:54   Yeah. Londs Reuter  4:55   Yeah, I just happened to work in art museums. So I'm like, very to to that particular struggle. Ari Wil  5:02   Can you talk about your experience as an art administrator? Just your background and access for too? Londs Reuter  5:09   Yeah. So funny, I never think of myself as an art administrator, but I, that's how I make a living. I think of myself as like an artist, and a person who supports access to art, which is an administrative goal, anyway. So the question again, yeah, I'm sorry. Ari Wil  5:45   Oh,yeah. So your experience as an artist and maybe our admin, yes, worker. Londs Reuter  5:53   There's so many ways I could answer that. So I'll give you some, like, tell me what you need or what You're looking for I have been working in accessibility projects, I'd say for the last six years or so. And it was like, a moment of redirection for me. I've been working in education and I've been working in an education style that actually, in reflecting on it feels directly opposed to a lot of my current values around access. And I just hadn't done the amount of work that I've done now to see things in the way that I see them now. So my work in access, I largely sort of like, legitimize my entry into the field by citing a lot of my work as a quote, special education instructor, which is what I did previously. Though I, I wouldn't count that high among the skills that actually lend themselves to the work that I do. I think I'm a dancer by training, I think dance prepares people to like, go into literally any situation and assess the feeling and like, understand what conditions need to be created in order to like, generate situations. Ari Wil  7:36   So dancing is like the vibe check? Londs Reuter  7:38   Yeah, I mean, for me, like, dancing only happens when we're in the space, figuring it out together. And like access also only happens when we're in the space figuring it out together. It's like not a checklist. It's not a thing that I can like. Just like shoot you the email and make sure you have the right dimensions on the pedestal or, you know, it like actually needs to happen. Through interaction and actions. So, for me I like really feel like I'm calling upon my dance practices in order to do my accessibility work more than like the things I actually legitimize to my job interviews and things like that. Those certainly like, my intimate relationships with students with autistic students has like, just like, absolutely shifted my worldview, and actually is the thing that like, made me feel that I had to leave that type of training and schooling that I had been doing with students was like, an act of love to those students. But it doesn't necessarily feel like the thing that's prepared me, I will say, and it was very clear to me starting out in this work, that there was information that I wanted and didn't have access to It is by I started a graduate program in disability studies. So I've been part time in graduate school for quite a few years. So that's the other way that I've been sort of prepping myself to do this work is sort of theoretical. Ari Wil  9:18   During the panel, you kind of briefly talked about the growth process of being a teacher with autistic students and then turning into your work now. What were the strengths and weaknesses of that and unlearning process to your work today? Londs Reuter  9:42   Yeah, this it was a messy time. I was also like 25. And it was -- I'm getting this wrong because I'm I'm 30 now --  but it was also a time in your life, when people have often been doing a thing thinking it's the thing and then you have a shift. So it doesn't feel like it's particular just to that circumstance but also to that time in life. But a lot of the shifts for me were philosophical. I I had sort of made peace with the fact that my art practice wasn't going to be lucrative. And I knew that before I even moved to New York, which is what I did right after college, I moved here from Maine. Okay, that was the last stop before here..But  I so I was, I was like seeking work to offset the cost of Living and making art. And I realized pretty quickly that actually, in the span of a week, I might be spending more time at that day job than I would be doing my art practices and that therefore I needed a day job that spoke to my values and beliefs. But I just couldn't do certain service oriented jobs that like left new, more depleted by the end of the day. And if I was going to be complicit in capitalist structures, I wanted to at least give something of myself out into the world. And it felt like the world needed. So that was sort of like my move into doing teaching. And then from teaching, I tried to shift into museum education. And in that museum education shift, I was having all these conversations around accessibility. I will say working in museums, it was partially just that I didn't backgrounds by could legitimize working in these spaces. But I was very interested in just doing accessibility work. And that happens in a lot of institutions. So I was looking at educational institutions like universities, as well as places like museums and cultural places. So I wasn't necessarily seeking out being an art space, it was more that I had things on my resume that let me move into an art space. But for me, the ambition was really working and accessibility. Ari Wil  12:36   Okay. And then what motivates you to work and accessibility? Londs Reuter  12:41   Yeah. I mean, access work is fascinating. I will like it just as a person who like needs a certain level of like intellectual friction, but like I need things I can chew on. Ari Wil  13:09   Yeah, complex ideals. Londs Reuter  13:10   Yeah. And access is like never ending and so profoundly intersectional  sometimes in really hard ways.  I would say like very especially when it comes to talking about race and when it comes to talking about capitalism that like, it is like a growth process that is, like just becoming, but a never arriving process for me that like really keeps me engaged and interested. I mean, I think I grew up with a disabled sibling and experienced a lot of ableism early in my life, where I was afforded opportunities that I was like directly witnessing as like a four year old that my brother wasn't getting as a seven year old. So there's also like,  it also really matches the way that I have long been engaging with the world of like seeing things and not understanding that other people don't see them. But also wanting to be an accomplice to like bringing other people into the work Ari Wil  14:38   an accomplice! I read an article on that, like three days ago. Access you also, in the panel talk about access as "love and hospitality. Justce". Yeah. Is there anything else you want to say about that? I want to cite that Londs Reuter  14:56   okay. So that's not an original thought or idea. And it's also like there are lots of things that are sort of out in the ether that like maybe one disabled activist like sort of coins, but like has generally been understood before, perhaps not articulated in quite that way. But Mia Mingus is a Disability Justice activist and a sort of, I think she works a lot in healing justice as well. And she's based in the Bay Area and is sort of the person that coined "access is love" has a term I want to say also that Alice Wong did it, she has a podcast. I think Alice is a she her called Disability Visibility, and I feel like that activist is also related to access as love movement and an idea. It's like on shirts, they have it on mugs now. There's like really moving that forward. Ari Wil  16:02   Noted, Yeah. What are you most proud of in your work on diversity and accessibility. Londs Reuter  16:10   Hm proud...feels very hard. I think in part pride feels like it centers myself and I actually feel like a lot of the work that I do tries to like knock me off center. Interested that I'm not. Yeah, but but also it's important. So I'm going to try to hear the question and I, I'm also working on seeing myself in the work that I do. Which I think is a lifelong project. Ari Wil  16:48   Yeah. So talking about this growth process in your professional life, because I'm 20. Londs Reuter  16:56   growing won't stop. If you're doing it right. In my opinion. So hopefully you're still changing your mind when you're my age. I can I say things I'm proud of, you know, I'm really proud to have disabled friends. That's one thing I'll say that I know people that work in accessibility that do it in service of people. But that those people like don't come to their home, or like they don't get beers together. And I'm, I'm proud that this work for me it's different boundaries of my life. So that's one thought I'm having. Ari Wil  17:49   Another quote that's kind of like accesses love nothing about us. Without us. Yeah, I just feel like that's nice that you let that into your life. Londs Reuter  17:57   Oh, yeah. I'll say that too. thing about us without us is sort of like the was the rallying cry of the disability rights movement, which was like largely in the 90s and early 2000s. That sort of like first wave and disability movement. And I say like, second wave that we're in right now is Disability Justice. Okay, cool. You're nodding. Ari Wil  18:17   No, I'm here. Londs Reuter  18:18   Yeah, I just want to offer that. You know, another thing I'm proud of is that I am reasonably beginner level proficiency in American Sign Language. And that, thank you. At the Brooklyn Museum, there was a deaf school across the street. And I always, for years wanted to build a relationship between the school and the museum. And and the way I started to build a relationship was by learning ASL. And I would go to the school and I would take lessons with other parents and caregivers and lots of grandparents of like deaf kids at the school that like, they were learning how to communicate with their kids. And I was able to audit those classes in the museum paid for that, which I'm also very proud of. And so that when I started sign language tours at that Museum, I was able to welcome every person and introduce myself and like, not just like, hire someone else to do all of it. Yeah. But actually take the risk of like, speaking someone else's language with them. And that, and I've continued to learn sign language and it's also just like the most brilliant genius language that I quite obsessed with its practicality. Ari Wil  19:56   So you recommend picking it up? Londs Reuter  19:58   Yeah. Yeah. I mean, if you're Like into languages is like, I find the language to be like, so straightforward and charming. And there are so few signs that I've learned that don't make sense. Okay. Okay, like I learned a new sign and I'm like, Ari Wil  20:19   yeah, no Chinese is not like that at all. I was in China for a semester, and I came away with nothing. I mean, wow. Londs Reuter  20:35   Mandarin? Ari Wil  20:36   Yeah. Mandarin what's the greatest obstacle to your work? Londs Reuter  20:40   Whoo. Okay, many, well, greatest? Stigma. I would say. I mean, I think that's very hard about institutional work is I would say inheritance is that like, there's turnover. There are different ways that like people leave different legacies and you inherit them. Yeah. And you inherit people's baggage. And it might not even be the person who had your role before, but it's just like who used to be the person that communicated with the person in your role? You know, like there's that, in an institutional sense that I'd say inheritance is really hard. But I wouldn't count that as the hardest. I would still say that stigma is like we're so far from being in a place where that doesn't negatively like it detrimentally affects almost every aspect of accessibility work. Both like in the work and I say, me too, you know, like, that's not a thing I've totally eradicated from myself. Yeah. So Ari Wil  21:52   What would you say is the Whitney's target audience? Londs Reuter  21:58   I don't know that. I know Enough to answer that. Okay. target audience? I have been quite surprised since working here at how many sort of like tourists from other countries are coming to this museum that like I get an elevator and I hear English like every third time. Ari Wil  22:21   And then the elevator Brooklyn Museum? Londs Reuter  22:23   Yeah, that was like locals, lots of school kids. That was like a big project there. And some tourists but not to the same ratio, as I experience here, but I don't know if that's a target for the museum necessarily. I think. And I'm in a very particular vantage point in the museum where I'm actually really thinking about New Yorkers. I'm really thinking about like, meatpacking district I'm thinking about like, like, who lives in like pen south and Westbeth and just like this. So these are all like New York City Housing Authority sites. So like, they're my audience in a way. And they're my target, but I don't think they see themselves that way. You know, so. Okay, yeah. Ari Wil  23:22   So you would say your audience is the local community? Londs Reuter  23:28   I guess I work with accessing community programs. So like, I want to make sure that like disabled people are part of the general public and that includes like staff and visitors and artists and all of it. And I also want to make sure that people that live down the block from the museum know that this is a museum that they can come to. Okay, whether they grew up with this museum down the street, Or they've lived here for eight years. And this has really transformed the neighborhood. Ari Wil  24:07   Do you feel like there's one particular vantage point or view missing? More than another? Londs Reuter  24:16   missing? An interesting question. I woul want to think about that. There isn't anything like immediately springing to mind. Ari Wil  24:34   okay to say no, I wouldn't be surprised if you saw another email from me later. Just with like a follow up question thing. Londs Reuter  24:40   Cool. Ari Wil  24:41   So anything that I say mull it over..we also have like 10 minutes, okay. Yeah. But I want to talk a little bit about how you think we can manage implicit bias. Londs Reuter  24:55   Okay, let's go there. Ari Wil  24:56   Yeah. And keeping people accountable for it. Londs Reuter  25:02   Yeah. Yeah. Ari Wil  25:04   Do have you felt implicit bias in your work? Have you ever catch yourself? Is this something that takes your thinking to the competition strategic planning? And then even you said like, you want to get disabled artist and you want to make them a part of the internal how do you do that without pigeonholing people and hiring someone? Just Just because you know, yeah. Londs Reuter  25:31   I mean, I don't, I don't hire people. I will say that, like, I don't work in HR. I'm not a curator who selects the artists. I think I can be an accomplice to those hiring processes or like considering different artists but and I also think if I change the ways that people are seeing and viewing the world, and seeing themselves as like in implicit embedded in ... Ari Wil  26:04   white supremacy? Londs Reuter  26:05   Yeah, I mean, like and and you know? Ari Wil  26:08   Yeah, just supremacy. Londs Reuter  26:09   Yeah. That like that can be in service of opening the door a little wider. Yeah. So I see my work in that way, but it is sort of like more conceptual and in a sense, though, I don't think it's really at a remove. So let's say that I mean, yeah, implicit bias is sort of embedded in everything that I do. I think I do a lot of work. A lot of work on myself. I think I've had multiple situations where I've been held accountable for words, thoughts, decisions that didn't actually align with the truth of the situation. And those are hard situations. They've gone best for me when they weren't public, but when they were like personal and and gave me time and further harm wasn't actually the goal from the person letting me in on the harm i'd caused. Those have been the most effective For me. So those are certainly processes that I've been through on multiple occasions. None here yet. It's only been three months. And I think to like, I work in a spot that's like quite vulnerable for an institution, you know, I'm like the one that's actually that's trying to do a lot of work. That from an institutional perspective just keeps us from getting complaints from a local community from disabled folks coming through the door, you know, like, I'm, I'm at the crossroads of that I'm not interested in keeping us from getting complaints. Like I'm interested in people having experiences with art and like going to a cultural institution, because they want to go on this day. But it's a spot that can take a lot of heat. Especially thinking about community relationships for museum that moved here in 2015. And there's only one meatpacking district. Yeah, business at all in the neighborhood anymore. And it's next door and we're looking to see if we can maybe expand there. So like, I am complicit in some actually that should not go on the record about that building next door. Okay, sorry. Okay. That's noted. Thank you. But I think I share it to highlight the fact that like, I'm working in a mechanism that's so much bigger than me that has like, histories that some things I agree with, and some things I don't and ongoing choices that some of them I agree with, and some that I dont. Ari Wil  29:48   Still an institution, you know. Londs Reuter  29:51   And that's like, embedded in the patronage model, which like, means that like we're getting money from really wealthy donors. To the wealthy in the United States often means certain practices. And like is embedded in certain histories over others. And so I'm, I think not only is like my implicit bias at play, but I also know that like me as an individual can only do so much to redirect these resources. Yes. Ari Wil  30:29   You're still working with in it. Londs Reuter  30:30   I'm working with in it. Yeah. Yeah. Which is, I think, really complicated. Ari Wil  30:36   Thank you for being honest about that. I think that whole thing was always kind of hard to talk about. What resources do you need to do your work? Londs Reuter  30:51   Great questions. Ari Wil  30:53   Thank you. Londs Reuter  30:58   Friends. I would say friends and community is like a very important component of this. I think if I were like, isolated and out of touch with real people making real choices, my work would be at a disconnect. So that feels actually like the first and most important thing. I think access, as we currently conceive it, is can be quite expensive. So I won't. So I don't want to forget that like financial resources make a lot of this work possible. Though, I think there's a lot of ingenuity possible for thinking about access in ways that aren't super expensive. Ari Wil  31:53   Is that why you say friends was like your primary resource, because from everyone else, and not everyone else will make that general statemtent, But I keep hearing budget as the biggest one. Hmm. So you saying friends was nice, but do you think that runs does then kind of shifted where like money is a nice resource to have. But if you have friends, it's more like you can make other dreams happen? Londs Reuter  32:19   Yeah, isn't that interesting? Yeah, everyone's so much market administrator than me. I mean, it matters getting it in the budget, especially for thinking institutionally. And it matters getting it in everyone's budget, not just in your like access budget here, but because in an institution, there are lots of glitches. But I guess for me, it's like if I have friends that are alerting me to things and showing me new ways to like to practice access then like Often, I'm learning about things that don't cost money, like just adding image descriptions, to, you know, it's going to take three more minutes of my day, but like, that's not, I mean, that's three minutes of money. It's okay. I mean, but like, friends don't necessarily pay the ASL interpreter, you know? So they're like, I see. I would hold them both in like high regard. I guess I just I never want to take people out of the equation. So like putting budgets as the most important thing feels like. But what about people? For me. So that's where I'm at? Ari Wil  33:45   Yeah. It is 1145 now, okay. Do you think that maybe I can send you the questions or we can do some kind of follow up or something. What do you think? Londs Reuter  33:57   Uh, yeah, I mean, I just have to be somewhere at noon and I want to check my computer before I get there, Ari Wil  34:03   but I wouldn't really rather you do that because like the way like these questions are kind of, you know, add some girth to them. Londs Reuter  34:10   Okay. Cool. Ari Wil  34:11   I wouldn't even mind you like doing a voicemail If you would prefer that, you know, like I can send you them and then just talk or literally anything. Okay, I'm very down. Londs Reuter  34:21   That would be nice. A voice note. Ari Wil  34:22   okay. We can email about it. And so yeah, thank you. Yes. Anything else? Any other questions you have for me? or anything else want to say for the record? Londs Reuter  34:34   I'd love you to check with me. For anything shard publicly. Ari Wil  34:42   Yeah. Londs Reuter  34:43   it's just to say that you offered at the start, but I'm new here and I would just want the chance to make sure that I'm not misrepresenting. Ari Wil  34:55   Yes. Londs Reuter  34:59   But that's the only I'm really, I'm really thinking. Ari Wil  35:04   yeah, I can definitely do that. Cool. Londs Reuter  35:05   All right. Thank you for this project for you. Ari Wil  35:07   Thank you.

[jkl-fff]

JKL I cannot stress this enough. ANSWER ALL OF THEM.

Heh. Why pick when you can just request all of them, right?Here we go, then (and thanks for the asks!)

Slightly Invasive Gay Asks

1. What’s your gender?

Hmm … Since I find the idea ofconceptual genders rather poetic (not recognized terms, but abstractdescriptions), I’ll give one of those: quirky and enthusiasticlanguage-literature-writing teacher who unironically uses a lot of Uncle Irohgifs and giggles like Scooby-Doo when someone make a particularly potent pun. Also, I’m a cis man with inclinations more towards non-toxic masculinity.

2. What are your pronouns?

He/His Grace, preferably, thoughI’ve no problem with people using Him or They/Them, I suppose.

3. Is your family accepting?

I’m fortunate enough to say theyare. Mom’s still worried about my spiritual and emotional well-being—about mefinding happiness, and worrying it might not happen like this—but that’s justwhat moms do.

4. What do you wish you could tell your past self?

Righteousness and Wickedness aresocial constructs propagated and perpetuated by authority figures to maintainan ideology which benefits them. So is “God the Father” (and Jesus Christ andthe Holy Ghost) as you conceive of them, or as anyone else ever conceives ofthem. You are *free* to do *whatever you want* so long as it doesn’t infringeon the freedom of others.

This means, boyo, that being gay isn’t a sin.Which is good, because you are gayer than a fruit bat. Just embrace it already,and you’ll be a lot more at peace with yourself and the universe.

5. What is your sexuality?

Hella gay,my dudes. Hella gay.If I wanted to expand further,I’d add placiosexual (I get off on pleasuring other people more than being pleasured).

6. Favorite color?

A deep and rich purple, like Tyrianor Imperial purple. Though I am increasingly fond of light pinks. And black is always in season.It’s funny, but as a kid I’d always say dark blue because I didn’t want peopleto think I was gay. Naturally, purple was the gay color, while blue was a safe“boy’s color” … for reasons … Isn’t heteronormativity absolutely silly?

7. Sun Gay or Moon Gay?

Moon, I guess? The sun is sogarishly bright. Even harshly so. But the moon is tastefully understated—just reallyelegant, y’know?—and also gentle and cyclical.

8. When did you find out your sexuality?

This is a rather difficult questionto tackle thanks to the cognitive dissonance imposed by heteronormativity … 

Onsome level, I *had* to have known since I started masturbating regularly (atage 13 or 14), because I only ever fantasized about other boys and guys. And I *was*aware of this on some level. However, the very idea of being gay was soinconceivable for a mormon boy (and socially stigmatized thanks to thepejorative use of the word “gay” to mean basically “stupid” from elementarythrough high school), that I refused to recognize it for years. Like, I was soinvested in being a good, mormon boy that I truly fully planned to follow themormon track of serving a religious mission for 2 years, marrying a woman inthe temple (big thing for mormons, that temple marriage), and probablyeventually having a kid or two (though I’ve never actually wanted to havechildren).

Ergo, it wasn’t until I was 19 and on a mission in France, working and livingnonstop with other guys (most of whom were quite good-looking AND had notrouble lounging around in their underwear when we were at home), that I couldno longer lie to myself. That was when I consciously recognized and consciouslybegan to struggle against “the burden of Same Sex Attraction” (as mormons insiston calling it) through “the power of faith” in Ja-eeee-sus Chrys’theLORD.

You can extrapolate from the present-day contents of my blog (and the abovesarcasm) how successful that was. Honestly, I’m rather surprised thepsychological distress such internalized and slow-toxic homophobia caused neverdrove me to take a leap of faith off a building at some point between ages 20and 25.

But those dark days were over when, at 25, I fell in love for the first time,and decided that there wasn’t much sense in being miserable, self-loathing, andlonely anymore. That’s when I started the process of coming out.

So … take your pick, I guess: it’s 13, 19, or 25.

9. How was your day?

Apart from sleep deprivationweighing me down (which is my own fault, as I stayed up late writing, then hadto get up early to lesson plan), it was grand! Went to work in the afternoonand got a good workout there moving freight, then went to teach my French classin the evening and had a ball while doing it!

10. Do you have any gay friends?

Bitch, at this point, I’m wonderingif I have any *straight* friends.Seriously, though, I do have some straight friends. But my closest friends areall openly queer in one way or another.

11. What’s your favorite hobby?

Taekwon-Doand writing.

12. Who’s the best gay icon in your opinion?

Garnet, anthropomorphicrepresentation of a now-married, WLW couple WHO KICKS ALL OF THE ASS BECAUSESHE IS MADE OF LOVE A N D  I T  I S S T R O N G E R   T H A N  Y O U,  J A S P E R!

13. Which Pride flags do you like the most design/colorwise?

Hard not to love the classic Gay Priderainbow, since it accessorizes with everything, though I prefer one thatexplicitly makes sure to include PoC, such as this one:

(Does anyone know who made this one?I saved a copy when I first saw it, because it’s fantabulous,but have never seen the post for it again.)

For the colors, the Bi and theTrans flags are quite lovely combinations, too.

14. Are you openly out?

You tellme:

Yeah, I wear this everyday becauseI got tired of people even contemplating the possibility that I might bestraight.

15. Are you comfortable with yourself?

More-or-less, and I think more thanless as time goes on. There are still bad days, but … once I understood thatbeing kind to people *also* means being kind to *myself*, it became a loteasier to become comfortable with myself. AND also easier to actually recognizeand work constructively on the parts of me I wished to improve.

16. Bottom or Top?

As a matter of principle, I striveto at least *be willing* to be verse—strive to never ask for anything I’m notwilling to give back, but … I definitely prefer to take charge and Top (evenwhen, or especially when, still giving manual or oral pleasure).Who knows, though? Maybe I just haven’t been topped right.

17. Femme or Butch?

Bold of you to assume I have aconsistent style.Seriously, though, im be Butch, I guess? I don’t really seek to present in afeminine way, so by default that make me Butch … Right? I dunno.

18. Do you bind?

Only myroot foot to strengthen it against a lingering ankle injury when I go to work.

19. Do you shave?

Only when I have to tidy up mybeard. No one shall see all of my face EVER AGAIN!

20. If you could date anyone you wanted, who would it be?

Right now, it’d be a coworker ofmine named Justin. He’s just … such an adorkable nerd with a really upbeatpersonality, and I find him very cute. And physically attractive, too. Like,damn, have you *seen* his assets? (obviously you haven’t, but trust me, they’requite pleasing assthetically)Unfortunately, he’s already married to another guy, who I hope knows he’sdamned lucky.

21. Do you have a partner (s)?

Alas, I donot. I’ve been somewhat unlucky in love.

22. Describe your partner (s)?

Hidden from me—hidden somewhere outthere, hopefully searching for me as I search for him … hopefully soon to crossmy path …

23. Have you ever dated anyone of the same sex?

I thinkabout 10 different guys. Obviously, none of them worked out.Some of them might have, but Iwasn’t ready at the time, and now it’s too late …  Oh well. Life goes on.

24. Anyone of another sex?

Technically, I suppose I’ve been ontwo dates with women. For the first (a double date) we were theoretically goingto a high school dance … but none of us were really into that when we gotthere, so instead we just drove around in her truck and made her stuffedpenguin heckle other drivers. The second was a few years later, and we went to a young, single adults gameevening after having dinner with her family. Annnnnd … that’s it.

25. Pastel Gay or Goth Gay?

I ain’tgoth, that’s for sure. But I’m not sure I’m pastel, either …

26. Favorite dad in Dream Daddies?

While I’ve never played the game,the most physically attractive one to me is the redheaded bear. Mostly becauseanyone else who might be physically attractive to me ruins the effect with amustache (THEY HAVEN’T BEEN STYLISH SINCE THE 70s, AND EVEN THEN THEY LOOKEDSTUPID!) or by being unrealistically sculpted (and I am *not* into that; I likemy men to look like they actually exist in the real world).

27. Tell me a random fact about yourself.

I have, like, over 20 neckties leftover from my mission days. I hardly ever use them anymore because I loathedressing up … but I have used them for some fun with other guys, and hope I getto do so again, soon.

28. Do you own any Pride flags/merch?

Just the rainbow bracelets picturedabove … and also a pair of rainbow socks, though those were actually procuredfor (not by) me … so I could officiate a *straight* couple’s marriage,ironically.

29. Have you ever been to a Pride Parade?

I’ve been to three. The first twowere … alright, I guess. Like, it was exciting to go to something so openlyqueer—so loud and proud—the first time (even if I had to hurry home for churchstuff for my little brother’s mission homecoming … let me tell you, that was a dayof extremes). And fun to go with my then boyfriend for the second.But … I dunno … There was a big crowd, and a lot of noise and heat (what withit being the middle of June). Introverted ol’ me wanted to go home—or at leastsomeplace quiet an cool—after about an hour, because the novelty had worn offby then.

The third, however …I was visiting my aunt in Washington D.C. That Sunday morning, we were walking tosome of the Smithsonian museums when we just happened, entirely by accident, tocross paths with the advancing Pride Parade. So we stopped and watched it for,like, half an hour … I suppose it was more of a March than a Parade,technically, which might be why it resonated with me more than the other twohad. But all the same …Here’s more on that event: http://jkl-fff.tumblr.com/post/161753611614/dc-pride

30. Any advice to someone who isn’t out, or who is exploringthemselves?

Two things: Go with what feels right for you. Your labels might or might not change, butyour understanding of what they mean for you definitely will develop and deepenover time (this is part of what “gender is fluid” means; it isn’t fixed and unchangeable,because *your identity* is neither fixed nor unchangeable). Be truthful enough withyourself to let it happen. Because in the end, the only wrong answer … is adishonest one.

Also, learn as much sympathy, empathy, compassion, and compersion as you canfrom your negative experiences. Like, it is inevitable that you will suffer inlife, so learn how to be aware of and kind towards the suffering of others.Exclusionists absolutely disgust me, because after suffering discrimination andoppression … they decide to put others through the same kind of needless pain.Gods above, life is hard enough as it is, so don’t go out of your way to makeit harder for others. Let your negative experiences motivate you to make sureno one else has to go through such bullshit ever again.

Thanks again! These were a lot of fun!

[snarent]

Okay, so my mom promised that I can get a ball python once we move into our house in January, I'm 13 now. I know snakes, especially BPs can live a heck of a long time. College will be an issue. Im hoping that I would be able to teach my grandmother, dad, and sister to take care of him. But knowing me I won't be able to sleep without him. Do you happen to know any colleges that either allow reptiles or let freshman live off campus in the USA that does an engineering major? Or links?? Thanks!

Hello!  It took me eight days to get to this and I apologize for that.  At least you get an answer that is long enough that perhaps I was literally typing on it for eight straight days nonstop?  Ha ha, just kidding, I type fast.  This took me only 94 straight hours of typing tops.

I am… going to be the annoying, boring adult here, and basically caution you against, like, almost everything in your entire ask.  On two fronts: the “get a snake now” thing, and the “pick a college for snake” thing.

The now thing: if you don’t already have a family member On Board With Snakes, then I would recommend against getting one any time soon.  I am doing the math in my head here, and I recognize that the idea of waiting until college, or maybe even after college, equates to “please wait another approximately 50-75% of the entire time that you have existed on this earth so far, and THEN you can realize your dream, maybe”.  But…

Like you said, beeps can live a long time.  Theoretical Noodle would almost certainly still be alive and still a young thing when it’s time for you to go to college.  And if you knew already that someone else would be cool with caring for him or her – warming up and feeding the dead r.odents, cleaning up the poops, cleaning out the occasional massive spatter of fluids that used to be inside of the dead r.odents – well, if they were already lined up, you’d be bringing your new pet into a situation that you can assume to be stable.  Even if you had to leave them home when you went to college, you could be confident that they were getting the care they deserved.

But it sounds like nobody else is completely on board yet, and that would mean that the situation isn’t stable.  You’d be bringing a tiny innocent creature into a situation where you can’t be sure that they would get that proper care longer than about five years.  And maybe you can convince someone, but maybe you can’t. Or someone else does agree to take over, but they don’t have the passion and the love for that animal, and that would almost certainly lead to a lower standard of care.  

It doesn’t have to be something big and obvious like “I got tired of it so I dumped it off at the animal shelter”, or even like “whoops I left the cage open and the snake got out, oh well not a big deal right?” (that one, I saw that someone had run into not long ago while they were away for a month or so).  It could just be that the person who takes over is not really feeling it, and so snakey never gets fed quite as often as they would like.  Or their tank never gets cleaned quite as often as maybe you’d clean it.  Or maybe the water dish goes empty a while before somebody notices, repeatedly.  

Humans usually don’t do as good a job at something they aren’t passionate about, and that is NOT me saying your family members are bad people, just that they’re human.  It’s a lot easier to dance the r.odent corpse around for a half-hour straight, singing a little song in a squeaky voice in case that makes the meal more appealing, if you don’t absolutely love that noodly little buttface to death.  Then when you give up and have to throw the r.odent out, which means taking it to the outside trash can in the dark because you don’t want it rotting in your kitchen trash can all night, the love makes it just a little more tolerable.

And then, at last, the pick a college thing: I don’t have any info on what might be a good college to look at based on the criteria you mentioned (I am old and my only children are the scaly types, so it’s totally out of my wheelhouse these days).  But you’re going to be spending 4+ years of your life and however many thousands of dollars (assuming no fancy full-ride scholarships) on a degree!  

“Should” is a strong word, I don’t want to “should” you here, but picking your college based on something like (has good program for major I want + I can afford it without working eight jobs + I like the school/campus culture itself in general + they actually let me in which is not 100% in my control unless I have straight As and enough extracurriculars to form an entire other human out of) will probably result in a successful academic career.  If “will allow me to have a snake” gets thrown into the mix, that could make the choice a whole lot more limited.

Maybe it turns out that Basically Perfect For Your Academic Wants University will also let you take your pet with you, but what if it doesn’t?  Will you settle?  Will you go to Kind Of Crappy And Also A Dump Polytech because it allows reptiles?

It’s 100% your choice, and I, a random person on the Internet, cannot (and should not, this is strong enough for a should) tell you how to prioritize your future.  But you asked, so you get my recommendation!  Waiting is super hard, and I already finished my waiting so it’s easy for me to just go “bluh bluh just wait a thousand years and then all snakes will come to you”.  But that’s still what I got.

Thank you for asking!  I hope you do not regret it too much now that your eyes have presumably fallen out of your head from Too Many Words.

[smokeybrand]

The Fallacy of Education

I think elementary school is necessary to an extent but everything I've ever learned after probably the third grade, was during summer break at the library and then all of the time when my family got a computer. I never really learned anything “new” in a classroom setting, from probably the fourth grade and forward. Sure, it's dope to have someone bounce ideas off but you can do that with anyone. You can do that online. Hell, I DO that online now. SO what the f*ck is the merit of going through the tribulations of “school?” Capitalism. Capitalism is the “merit.” School is designed to break your spirit as a youth and train you to be a drone in the workforce. The structure of how education here in the US has been built, is designed to acclimate you to a forty hour work week early on. It's built to make you yearn for holidays and the weekends. It grooms you to raise your hands to ask questions and punishes those who deviate from the assigned tasks. Free thinkers are shunned and the arts are almost always removed in one form or another. Creativity is killed in service to conformity because capitalism needs that in order to function. The second it's removed, the second people questions the status quo, is the second they understand the terrible conditions in which they've been forced to exist. But, if you're not smart enough to ask the right questions, then there is no threat to the current class system.

When i got to fifth grade, i went to a substantially sh*ttier school than before. We move into a worse ghetto than the one I grew up in for he majority of my life and that was reflected in this school's curriculum. These kids were morons. That wasn't there fault, the system had failed them because it was assumed they weren't worth the investment. We'd all end up being thugs and criminals because that was what our zip code dictated. When I got there, I kind of f*cked all of that up. These kids were reading well under their grade, the “smart” one rad at a high school level if I remember but i could read at a college level. Indeed, I was well into checking out Shakespeare and Dante by this point. That was too much for my teacher. He graded on a curve because the kids were so stupid and, after that fist test where everyone failed but me because I got such a high mark, told me flat out that there was nothing he could teach me. I became kind of a TA in that class and never turned in another assignment for the entire year. He just gave me As on everything and apologized profusely for not being able to adequately challenge me. It was difficult to see because I would tell this dude loved teaching and he had an opportunity to rally flex his passion with me but the system in which he had to work wouldn't allow him to do any of that. Because the system, itself, isn't built to educate. Imagine being an educator trapped in that cage? Now imagine being a student trapped in there, too, oblivious to the handicap you've just been saddled with.

When i got to the seventh grade, i was put into remedial courses against my ill. We moved back to my old neighborhood ahead of my sixth grade year so I was able to return to my previous school where it was understood that myself and a handful of others were WAY too smart for our own good. They got us more advanced materials from the surrounding high schools and basically told us to teach ourselves. My then principal drove us over to a separate middle school because it was supposed to have better materials and more advanced courses than the neighborhood one. Our principal and the one in the middle school spoke, we all demonstrated our intelligence, and it was agreed we'd be placed in advanced courses in the coming year. When the new year started, I was not placed in those agreed upon courses. My zip code reflected the ghetto and not the bourgeois neighborhood this new school was in. They assumed i was an idiot, even though i was enrolled specifically for the more challenging curriculum, and dismissed my previous academic accomplishments without a word. My elementary school principal literally drove me over there and introduced me to that school's principal because she wanted to make sure the staff understood that i was wildly intelligent "for my age." Didn't matter. They saw a Meadowview zip and i was put into classes with a bunch of idiots. When i protested, they refused to change my schedule. It didn't take long for most of my teachers to realize I wouldn't be in such pedestrian classes but the administration refused to budge. I was ghetto trash and they didn't want to hear anything else, even if it was coming directly from the teachers in charge of me education. My science teacher literally had us coloring f*cking pictures as work assignments. I refused to do such ridiculous busy work, demanded that he teach me some sh*t and, instead, he suspended me from his class and threatened to fail me.

When i got to high school, i was wildly disillusioned by education and basically coasted my way through. I understood that i could learn more on my own and pushed to be home schooled. The way the that system works is you show up for in-class check-in on Monday and pick up a packet of schoolwork. You complete the school work through the week and turn it the following Monday. No classroom. No teachers. No fuss. All of my credits, and then some, and none of the the everyday baggage. I could excel at my own pace, which we have established far outstripped whatever the f*ck the curriculum is at any given time. Plus, I could return to proper coursework at any time. My plan was to knock out about three years worth of credits that first year and try to get into the off-campus internship with the State. It was called the Regional Occupation Program. I'd be paid to work for the State part time while accumulating proper work experience, and still have time to take some college courses at the local Community College. I'd still be able to come back and participate in all of the social sh*t like dances and games plus, I'd be able to walk the stage with my proper class. I'd be able to challenge myself, build toward my future, and still have that high school experience. But my mom refused. Everything i said here, I said to her, and she still refused. She's a slave to tradition and tradition dictated that i HAD to go to class everyday. The system HAD to be maintained. So i did and, as the years progressed, i went less and less. By senior year, i went just enough to keep the cops of her back and still graduated with a 3.8. I never one applied myself in high school and literally just showed up because cops, gym, and girls. Most days, i left early because f*cking why not? I wasn't learning anything. I wasn't being enriched in anyway. By my senior year, I had two Teacher's Assistant classes, two gym classes, Government and a creative writing course. I never went to that one because it was the last class of the day and Transformers came on halfway through it so I skipped it everyday. In order to pass, I just printed out a novel I wrote when I was in the eighth grade. He gave me an A, even though I was only there in person around thirty percent of the school year. I was writing high school level sh*t when I was thirteen. That's the story of my whole life and it didn't get any better when I got to college.

I thought it was going to get better when i got to college. It did not. I had toured a few campuses around my neighborhood and even sat in on a course or two. I went to a few College Fairs and even got accepted into a couple of HBCs. After a I graduated high school I opted to go to a community college that was near by. I' m poor so I couldn't afford a proper school and the scholarships available to me were all partial. I didn't want to have to split time between working and college so I figured if I got the core courses out of the way early, I could lighten the load and have an Associates to take into a part time gig or something later. I had actually gotten into Stanford and wanted to go but the cost of living was WAY too staunchy so this Community college plan was the best option. I lasted a semester. That sh*t was like going back to high school but i had to pay for it out of pocket. I had dreams of debate and lecture, of challenging a professor who could challenge me in return What I got was more of the uniform apathy that has dogged me my entire education career, only now it was driving me into f*cking debt. I love learning. I love reading. I love thinking. None of that I was even conducive to school here in the states. Often times, it was objectively frowned upon. From kindergarten to literally college, I was always under the gun in that sense. To this day, my curiosity is insatiable and I research everything. I want to know all of the things and the big sh*t like theoretical physics or the math necessary to infer the universe before the big bang, is absolutely tantalizing to me. I was frustrated with the stifling rigidity of school f*cking twenty years ago. I can't even imagine what it's like for kids nowadays.

The education system in the US is f*cking ridiculous. It's not meant to build intelligence or free thinking, it's an assembly line method designed to acclimate you to a forty hour work week. It's supposed to get you used to sacrificing the majority of your life in service to capitalism, busting ass just to get to the weekend or next holiday off, because that's how you'll live the rest of your adult life. They're not in the business of education or teaching life skills, they're in the business of manufacturing more cogs for the great machine that is the “economy.” Why the f*ck do I need to know Algebra 2 when I can't do my own taxes? Why the f*ck do we have to spend three weeks studying the Crucible when I don't know how compound interests works? Parents should play a part in this, for sure, but how difficult is that for them to do? They are victims of the same system and have to sacrifice their liberty in order to pay bills, after being bludgeoned with that same aggressive system necessary for them to abandon their hopes. A smart person is a difficult person to manipulate. When people understand, or even have the ability to comprehend, the scales fall from their eyes. We're seeing that now with the “Employment crisis” and how no one wants to go back to being underpaid and overworked after a the Pandemic showed the world for what it was. It's in capitalism's best interests to make sure the masses are smart enough to produce but dumb enough to never understand that they control the means of production. Why do you think everyone wants the kids to "get back into the classroom" when it's obviously easier to "teach" kids over zoom? When it's obvious that they learn more and understand better at home? When entire grade averages have increased considerably, over the entire country, since kids have been studying at home? Because that structure is more important than the learning. Every kid has a phone, computer, or tablet at this point. Internet is everywhere. There's no reason to have in-class learning, especially considering how many f*cking classrooms get shot up around these parts. Especially considering that there are more kids like me thanks to the ready-to-consume inf oration at our fingertips. This one got away from me but i really, really, hate the "education system" here. It's so boorish and archaic, f*cking obsolete, especially in the age of the information, so why go back to that broken system? Because capitalism needs drones not dreamers. It needs conformists, not thinkers. It needs ignorance not education.