#where they measured how far we could throw a tennis ball | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

witchymarvelspacecase · 4 years ago

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Firebug and Freezer Burn

My entry for @tilltheendwilliwrite ‘s 7.7k follower (covid sucks) writing challenge.

Clearly my time management (and mental health management) is lacking, but I figured I would post this anyway.

Sorry.

The pic on the right was my prompt, I added the one on the left.

PLEASE FORGIVE THIS SHITASS TITLE

WC: 3276

Warnings: Fire, cursing, panic, being ill, fluff who the fuck knows

The small suburban neighborhood evening was shattered by the fire engine sirens screaming toward the pillar of fire that had once been a family home. Neighbors who had called 911 huddled outside, speaking to responders as they arrived. The three person family living in the burning house hadn't been seen since the fire started, but as far as anyone knew, they had been at home earlier. The parents had picked up the little girl after school, and returned home like usual. On a normal night, they would have all been in bed by now, if not for the noisy terrier up the street, the fire may have spread farther. Tears burned in throats, and sobs were barely contained as smoke and ash stung sleepy eyes. Lucky. The neighbors were lucky, and they all felt it, the feeling increasing in strength as the minutes ticked by with no sign of the family.

There was practically nothing left of the house now. The supporting structural pieces were still standing, but drywall had been all but disintegrated, leaving an empty shell, filled with smoldering ash. Nothing could have survived a blaze that hot.

An impossible shout came from a firefighter in the house. Firefighters converged on their brother and all blinked in surprise at what they saw. A small body, unconscious but unharmed, wrapped in an equally small blanket. The little girl, she was untouched by fire, though it was clear it had burned through the room around her. Her bed was ash beneath her, and nothing of her room remained standing. She seemed asleep, snoring softly as her dreams went undisturbed by the chaos around her.

The only thing odder still was her skin. It was tinged gray. That could have just been the smoke, if not for the cracks. Like lava creating fissures in soft volcanic stone, lines glowed red-orange all across her skin, visible even underneath her nightgown. The stunned firemen didn’t seem to know how to react, but one of the EMTs on sight already had their phone up to their ear,

“Phil, you need to get here. There’s someone you’re gonna want to see.”

...Years Later

Having been raised by Phil Coulson, your life was fairly heavily impacted by SHIELD (and the tales of Captain America), it wasn’t a surprise that you became an agent. Though Phil actually wasn’t too happy about his little girl being put into dangerous situations, you gained his approval after pointing out that you would probably involve yourself in dangerous situations whether or not you had the training or backup that SHIELD provided. Working with the Avengers probably shouldn’t have surprised you either, but all you knew you had was your immunity to fire. Turned out that ability, in combination with your martial arts and weapons training from SHIELD, was actually incredibly useful to the Avengers. One mission became several more, and before you knew it, you were living with them.

Phil was a pretty constant visitor, he wasn’t “checking on you”, he was “touching base with the team”, or fanboy-ing over Cap. Mmmmhmm, sure thing. You knew better, but you generally didn’t call him on it, though it got you a lot of shit from Tony Stark. Honestly, Tony would have found something to tease you about either way. Being called “kid” was probably pretty tame, especially considering Tony’s other name for you: “Glow-Stick”. Clint called you “kid” all the time anyway.

The two members of the team who could have called everyone “kid” were usually the most respectful. Steve never called you anything other than your name, Bucky had called you a few different names, but none of them pejorative. Natasha tended to refer to everyone but Clint by their last name, and Sam, well Sam just called you an idiot, but that was for a different reason.

“Well you are an idiot. Seriously, you oughtta man-up and tell him already.” You and Sam were in the lounge area, having reached a commercial break during the game you were watching. He was leaning back against the arm of the sofa opposite you, rolling his eyes.

“First of all, ‘man-up’? Really? You wanna have that discussion again?” you gave him a significant look, eyebrow raised in indignation. He scoffed and waved you off, you continued, “second of all, mind your own business.”

“He’s gonna die in his sleep before you say anything at this point,” Sam’s voice was mocking.

“Stay in your own lane Wilson,” you growled.

“I’m just saying-”

“Nothing. You’re just saying nothing. The game’s back on.”

“C’mon , you gotta -”

“No, Sam.”

“What’s he up to now?” Natasha asked as she walked into the room, dropping into a seat with a bowl of popcorn.

“Nuh-uh, I’m not saying shit to you.” You knew better than to even give a kernel of information to a master spy.

“Pft, I probably know whatever it is already,” she shrugged. She wasn’t wrong, but as long as she didn’t realize Sam was pushing you to admit it, Natasha wouldn’t interfere.

You turned to watch the game, missing the glint in Sam’s eye as he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

You weren’t going to say shit. The only reason Sam knew about your adolescent crush was that he had hung out with Phil for too damn long one night, and Phil had been a little too open with your story. Years of hearing about Captain America’s exploits had been a basis of your childhood, but Steve wasn’t the character who fascinated you. That was James Buchanan Barnes. Unlike your father figure, your interest lay in the Commando’s sniper, not its leader. Originally, you had wanted to specialize in long-range shooting, but now, having more intimate knowledge of just how involved sniping was, you were even more impressed with Bucky. There were way too many calculations involved in what he did, and he did it so well.

He had been the yardstick you’d used to measure every romantic partner you’d had, and most of them fell short. That was before you knew he was alive. What was funny was that the Bucky you knew now beat the yardstick you’d made of his past self.

He was sweet, and mindful of everyone around him, and when he wasn’t too deep in his own head, he was really funny. From the first night you had accidentally stumbled upon him on the roof after a nightmare, you’d been fast friends. Though he was the member of the team you worked with the least, he was the one you spent the most downtime with. Hence, why you put up with all his nicknames. Doll, Sugar, Sweetheart, Darlin’.

When a tennis ball bounced off your head, startling you out of the unintentional mental tangent, you realized that not only had more of the team entered the room, they had clearly been talking to you.

A blush rapidly heated your face. “Sorry. What?”

“Where’s your head at, kid?” Tony asked. He was sprawled across the loveseat, looking more at you than at the TV.

“Nowhere important; zoned out a little. Guess I’m just tired.”

“Suuuuure you are,” Sam drawled, exchanging looks with Natasha. Your brow furrowed, but you said nothing.

The topic changed back to the game, as Bucky came into the room. Steve was already seated in the armchair next to Natasha, but instead of crossing to his best friend, Bucky settled on the arm of the sofa, right beside you. Sam cleared his throat, and you shot him a threatening look.

“Jesus Sam, what did you do to get her looking at you like that?” Steve asked. He sounded almost worried. You would have laughed at his concerned look, but you had to keep an eye on Sam. You let the silence stretch out, not answering Steve and not looking away from Sam, until you were reasonably sure he would keep his mouth shut.

“It’s nothing Steve. Sam just needs to mind his own business.”

“He is nosy as hell,” Bucky grumbled behind you, his arm going to the back of the couch and essentially around your shoulders.

“Aw, you’re just mad cause he’s bugging you about your secrets.”

“Natasha, I don’t care how hard it’ll be, I will kill you.” There was no inflection in your voice, nothing to give away how angry and scared you were. Maybe you should have given a little emotion for the team to read. Maybe then they would have let it go.

As it was, they collectively ganged up on you, grilling you, and refusing to be redirected until you snapped.

“Just fucking drop it!” you shouted, throwing the tennis ball that was still in your hands at the last team member to pry, Tony.

Everyone was staring. And it took you a moment to process exactly why.

The tennis ball had been on fire.

It hadn’t been on fire before you threw it, and yet it was flaming when it almost hit Tony in the head.

Silence, and slow blinks all around.

“Holy shit.” Sam was staring open mouthed.

“FRIDAY, when was the last time we checked the fire protocols?” Tony asked, his face still showing surprise, but his voice calm.

“I- I-... That-” you couldn’t seem to form a sentence. Your body seemed frozen to the spot.

“Well that’s interesting,” Natasha mused.

“Is this- is this new?” Clint asked from his seat on the floor in front of Natasha’s chair.

You didn’t know what to say. Was this new? You’d never done it before. You would have known if you had… right?

The only fire you’d ever been in was… oh god.

And just like that, your body was no longer frozen. You shot up out of your seat and sprinted down the hall. You ran into your room and passed through to the attached bathroom without checking if the door was closed, too intent on reaching your destination. Your knees hit the floor in front of the toilet just in time.

Tears poured from your eyes as you retched. Panic had your chest and gut constricting, making you struggle to breathe. The room would have spun if your head weren’t resting on the cool porcelain of the toilet. As it was, your ears were ringing so much that you couldn't hear your own panting breaths, let alone someone entering the room behind you. You wouldn’t have known Bucky was there if he hadn’t slid his cool metal hand to the back of your neck.

“Shh, doll. It’s okay. It’s just me,” he soothed when you jumped.

You hiccuped in response, taking several minutes to calm to the point that he was able to usher you out of the bathroom.

Sitting you on the edge of your bed, Bucky stepped back into your bathroom, flushing the toilet and wetting a soft washcloth before coming back to you. He held out the cloth, but when you failed to take it, he began to gently wipe at your face.

“You know none of the team is upset or freaked out, so what made you run outta there?” Bucky asked quietly.

“What if I did it?” you asked in response, your voice so low Bucky almost missed it.

“Did what, doll?”

“The fire, my parents-” you cut off, unable to say anything more, as fresh tears filled your eyes.

Phil Coulson had been a fantastic foster dad, no doubt about it, but your child’s brain took a long time to adjust to his parenting style. You had missed your parents. Phil had done his best not to erase your parents from your memories. He didn’t know much about them, but your old neighbors had been happy to share stories with you, and you’d created an idealistic version of them in your head. You couldn’t understand why you had survived and they hadn’t, and the nightmares that had followed you into adulthood were still traumatic. What if you had been the cause of the mysterious fire that had killed them.

“Doll. Hey. Hey Sugar, look at me okay?” Bucky’s hands were on either side of your face. When you met his eyes you got the feeling he had been trying to get your attention for a while. His thumbs softly rubbed your cheekbones as he spoke. “It wasn’t you, doll. It wasn’t your fault.”

“How- how can you possibly know,” you asked in a whisper, trying to pull your face out of his grip, but his fingers tightened slightly.

“You’ve never done that before. And you’ve only been in one mystery fire.”

“Yeah but-” you started, but Bucky talked right over you.

“If you had been able to start fires as a kid, you would have had it happen around you frequently. When you were angry, when you were scared; it would have happened all the time when you were little, but it didn’t.” He brushed a tear from the corner of your eye and his voice softened. “It wasn’t you honey. I’m sure of it.”

That was a sentiment that he repeated with a few minor variations for several minutes until you calmed down. Once you did, you realized that the position you were in was a little close for comfort. At some point, Bucky had moved from kneeling in front of you, to sitting on the bed beside you, to holding you in his lap. He had his arms around you and your head tucked under his chin.

However, when you squirmed slightly, embarrassed by your behavior and more than ready to put some space between you and the super soldier you had a giant crush on, Bucky did not let you go.

“Buck,” you said, your voice was a little gravely from crying, “I’m okay.”

“Yeah?” He replied, not sounding convinced.

“Yeah, you can let me go now.” You were fairly certain he could feel the heat in your face through his shirt.

“I can, but I don’t want to.”

“I- what?” you stuttered.

“I happen to like holding you, never got to do it before, but I’ve decided I like it and I’m not ready to let you go yet.” Bucky said it in such a matter of fact tone, it sounded reasonable.

The fuck? Did you hear that right? Uh….

Before you could formulate any kind of response, Bucky’s phone started to ring. He managed to get it from his pocket and answer it without releasing you.

“Hello Agent Coulson, thank you for calling me back. Yes, she’s right here, hold on,” he held the phone out to you.

Still in a sort of shock, you took the phone without question. “Papa?” You used the name you called him when you were little. He was never “Dad” or “Daddy” you could remember calling your father that. No, Phil Coulson was “Papa”.

“Hey sweetie. I heard you had a little scare.” You almost burst into fresh tears, but Phil continued. “You never really asked me about the fire, so I never made it a point to tell you about it. It wasn’t you sweetheart.” As Bucky continued to hold you, occasionally rubbing your back, or rocking you slightly, Phil told you about your father’s business, and the intense and hostile relationship he had with his rival. A rival who had decided that killing your father and your family was the best way to enable a hostile takeover of your father’s much more successful business.

An entire amusement park’s worth of emotions rolled through you as you listened to the tale. Anger so intense you could feel smoke all but coming out your ears.

“Doll,” Bucky softly drew your attention, his fingers ever so lightly grazing your arm. When you looked down, you almost jerked out of his hold.

“Holy fuck!” The lava fissures were glowing across your skin. You knew you let off heat when you were like that. You’d burned plenty of bad guys, guards, and assholes as soon as they made skin contact. “Bucky, let me up.” He did, but he didn’t leave the room as you finished your call with Phil.

Phil felt guilty for not telling you all this earlier, but you shook your head, forgetting he couldn’t see you. “It’s not your fault, Papa. I didn’t know this was even a possibility for me to do, I never questioned the fire before. There’s no reason for you to tell me, I didn't ask.” After reassuring him a few more times, and promising to visit him soon and showing him what you’d done, assuming you could repeat the stunt, you said your goodbyes. “Love you, Papa.”

“Love you too sweetheart. See you soon.”

You handed Bucky his phone back, not getting too close to him. But he took his phone and then quickly grabbed your wrist, pulling you close to him again.

“Bucky, you're gonna get burnt!” “No I won’t. You haven’t burned me before, and I’ve been near you like this before. It’s okay.”

“You’ve what?! Why would you do that?!”

“Why would you let me get anywhere near you?”

“Huh?” Well that was a topic change.

“I’m just as dangerous as you. More so actually, I’ve hurt and killed way more people than you probably ever will. You never hesitated to get near me.” Bucky held up his metal arm, drawing attention to it.

“That’s different Bucky, I don’t have control of this. You have control, you would never choose to hurt me.”

“It’s not different to me. I’m not afraid of you. You wouldn’t intentionally hurt me, and I trust you to keep me safe.” You shook your head, incredulous. “You’ve never burned your clothes. You have burned the shit out of people before, but you’ve never burned your clothes.” When you didn’t respond, Bucky said, “you’re in control, Sugar, and I trust you.”

Too many revelations in one day. That was your explanation. A second after Bucky stopped speaking, you registered what he was saying, and dropped your forehead to his, all the fight leaving your body, as your eyes closed. He settled you more comfortably on his lap but kept your foreheads together.

You sighed. “It’s been a hell of a day,” you said with a laugh.

“You’ve had a few shocks alright,” Bucky agreed. After a short pause, he spoke again. “Think you can handle one more?”

You hummed, “probably,” and soft lips pressed against yours.

A quick intake of breath and your eyes shot open, but you didn’t pull away. “Bucky?”

It was his turn to hum. A small smile slowly spreading across lips that had just pulled back from yours.

“What- why?”

“Been wanting to do that for a while. And if you don’t want to tell me to fuck off, I’m gonna want to do it again. You gonna tell me to fuck off?”

Hesitantly, you shook your head and the smile on his lips stretched. When he pulled back from your second kiss, you could feel a matching smile on your own lips.

Hours later, the two of you emerged from your room, a plan in place to test your new ability. Another plan for how to explore your relationship with both of you being Avengers and having very little privacy. And most importantly, a plan in place to fuck with your nosy, annoying teammates.

“Hey there, Matches,” Tony called as he spotted you from down the hall.

“Seems I’ve got a new name,” you grumbled.

“At least you’re not ‘Manchurian Candidate’,” Bucky grouched, pressing a kiss to your temple. A kiss Tony did not miss.

“OH MY GOD! Firebug and Freezer Burn are kissy-face!” Tony Stark, a 12 year old. You rolled your eyes and prepared yourself for handling your teammates.

#tpromptsachallenge #bucky x reader #bucky x inhuman!reader #its late cause i fail

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ebullientbun · 5 years ago

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Don’t Be A Deuce Bag

Starring: tennis!Jin x Reader Genre: mildest angst if any, fluff, friends-to-lovers!au Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: someone gets hit in the balls, slight swearing, lots of tennis jargon A/N: this is originally for the Sports!AU August prompt by @btsboulangerie, but I had a feeling that I won’t be able to finish it in time yeet

Summary: You and Jin are doubles partners, though you dream of being more than that. But doubles partners communicate, and Jin has been giving you the silent treatment. You need to get to the bottom of it.

The general public would always see tennis as some sort of elite sport, a hobby that rich people enjoy in their free time if they weren’t on a golf course. But they never consider the level of strategy, technique, and effort that goes into playing a match in competitive tennis, thinking that it’s just for players needlessly grunting as they hit the ball or dramatically falling into a split running towards a fast ball. But you found it to be more than that.

You found a home with the people with you on the tennis court. You’ve made your first friends in high school with these people, driving to and fro from away matches to all day tournaments. You’ve spent countless hours at dawn or late at night practicing drills with each other.

And you’ve discovered your love to be on the court. You first joined the team not expecting much, already knowing that you’ll be accepted onto the team since they were in constant need of female members, but you genuinely created a unique bond with each and every single one of them.

Not too long after your singles match, you plop down on the bleachers next to your best friend, Sooyoung. Snatching your fourth fruit snack packet from your tennis bag, you begin fueling yourself with sugar as you watch the other ongoing matches. You brighten, nudging Sooyoung on the shoulder. “Oh my god, look at Taehyung over there, third court”.

She turns, squealing excitedly. “He’s wearing a headband! Ugh, he’s so hot.” She leans forward to read the scoreboard, squinting. “He’s losing against Jimin, though.”

You hum. “Somehow, being frustrated is low-key making him hotter.” You watch as he wipes his forehead with a towel before tossing it on the bench; you sigh longingly. “I’d let him eat my ass like a cupcake anytime.” Sooyoung giggles at your comment, playfully shoving you in embarrassment.

“Can you not talk about our opponent like that? You’re rooting for the wrong team,” a voice sounds from behind you.

Kim Seokjin. Your doubles partner since you’ve joined the team and made you fall in love with the game. Instead of going through the motions, you felt a combination of excitement and anxiety during every match with him because he’s made it something to build yourself for.

You whip your head around, glaring at doubles partner. “Mind your own business, Jin. It’s legal to thirst.”

He rolls his eyes, before paying his attention back to the match on the first court.

Your relationship with Seokjin was nothing short of incessant bickering. You first got to know each other when you were filling up the team’s water jug as a newbie, and upon struggling to hold it up as it got heavier, he had come to the rescue to help out. Your coach saw the both of you as an opportunity for a mixed doubles team, since none of the other members wanted to be part of it and you both were getting along well. You both gave it a shot - having a position from the coach is better than being benched.

He easily gets on your nerves. He’s a gentleman, yet has a hankering of complaining. When you aim a ball too far and it lands out, suddenly he’s a know it all and tries to correct you for it. But when he makes a mistake, suddenly it’s the wind’s fault! You have to admit, he did help you with your form when you struggled with your backhand stroke back then.

All of that is tolerable when you consider the amount of synergy the both of you have on the court together. While you’re known for dominating at the net, Seokjin was known for keeping long rallies at the baseline. Was he garbage at the net? Sure. But you’ve been mixed doubles partners for the past couple years and have figured out a routine that worked. Playing with a different partner never interested you when you both knew each other’s playing styles so well.

That, and you had a small crush on him. Only a teeny one.

You offer him one of your fruit snacks, and he happily plucks one from the pouch. “Which court are we playing on soon?”

Seokjin nods towards the other section of courts, “Court 7, after Jeon’s finished playing.”

“We have a good advantage then, he’ll be too tired after the singles match to have enough energy for our match right after,” you comment.

Seokjin scoffs, “As if. He’s a powerhouse; he’ll just chug a Gatorade and go back at it again.”

“Who’s his partner again?”

“Yerim, I think.”

You groan. “No way, I hate that bitch! I just played her in singles and she slices every other ball.”

Seokjin hums pensively, “At least we have that advantage of how she plays.”

You nod, crumpling up your now empty fruit snack pouch and tossing it into the trash can. “Yeah, we’ll be fine.”

Things were not fine.

As Seokjin predicted, Jungkook was a monster and did not resist holding back slamming the ball towards you every time. It’s a dirty tactic to aim solely for the female opponent, but luckily for you and your partner, you were more fearless to his fastballs.

What you did not expect was cheating.

Your match is on the third set, both sides tiring out with a close score. Seokjin and you are in the lead 4-3. Currently, Jungkook is serving to Seokjin, while you are positioned near the net. Seokjin had been rallying cross-court with Jungkook for a while, but the angles were too wide for either of you or Yerim to poach from the net. With quick strategy, Seokjin abruptly rallies the ball straight, into a wide open area that Yerim, expecting another diagonal rally, fails to block. You figure it’s a clean win on the point, but Yerim holds up her pointer finger in the air.

“Out.”

...What?

Both you and Seokjin freeze. Mid high five too. You snap your head towards her.

“...That was in the line.” You walk closer to her at the net.

“No,” she argues, “it was close but it landed outside the double lines.” She crosses her arms and walks over to the area near where the ball landed and points with her racket at a spot out of bounds.

Oh, hell no. She didn’t even see where the ball landed, she isn’t even facing towards it.

You gape in disbelief, turning towards Jungkook. “Are you sure?”

Jungkook bites his lip, looking from you and Seokjin to his partner, before replying, “Yes.”

The audacity. You could feel the steam coming out of your ears. You are this close to childishly throwing a tantrum and asking for a referee, but you stop upon feeling a firm grasp on your shoulder.

“Whatever you’re thinking, don’t,” Seokjin mutters, glaring at them for good measure. “We are not going to stoop to their level if this is how they want to play.”

“This is the third time she’s called one of our ‘in’ balls ‘out’, and we’re just gonna sit here and let that happen? Your ball was obviously within the line,” you hiss. You want to smack that snooty look off her face.

Seokjin furrows his eyebrows, frustrated as well - most of the balls Yerim called were his. “Play fair and stay calm. We don’t want to make rash mistakes and slam the next few points into the net.”

You take in a deep inhale, before huffing. Offering your doubles partner a stiff high five, you get back into position for the next point.

Jungkook serves the ball to you, noticing how you rally back but don’t approach the net immediately as you usually would. He subtly starts closing towards the net, but you internally smirk - he was going to drop a short ball on your side.

As expected, he slices the next rally directly down the middle of the court, Seokjin frantically trying to poach the ball but missing. But you’re ready.

“Mine!” You rush towards the net, and with all of the pent up anger inside of you, you slam a forehand ball straight at Jeon Jungkook’s crotch.

Without enough time to react, Jungkook fails to block the fast ball and crumples to the ground. “Oh fuck!”

Yerim gasps, running to him and hollering for a time out. Jungkook, in all of his beautiful and wincing glory, lays in a fetal position in the middle of the court.

You turn your body away from them so they don’t see, but more importantly so Seokjin can see you. “For you, Jin,” you wink at him with a smug smile on your face.

Seokjin, who had mild concern for the poor boy, stares at you in bewilderment. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” Then, he bursts into a chuckle and offers you a low fist bump. “That's my girl.”

If you had known any better, you would think that his eyes were twinkling in the slightest bit. Your heart, in addition to the adrenaline, flip flops excitedly at the endearment.

In the end, you both still lost.

It wasn’t too surprising, but you both still had hope that by hurting Jungkook to his friend downstairs, you would have an advantage by winning only two more games. But, no. It appears that it just fueled the rage monster that unleashed within Jeon Jungkook and you lost three games in a row. Nonetheless, you and Seokjin took it in stride, already accepting upon walking onto the court that a loss wouldn’t be too bad as long as both of you did your best. Seokjin seemed just fine when you both walked off the court after the match to report to your coach.

However, now, Seokjin is a brat to you.

It’s a regular practice day, and instead of doing warm up laps around the courts with you like he normally does, he elects to chat next to Irene instead.

Ok, sure. Whatever. Not like you were obligated to warm up together, you suppose. You slow the pace of your lunges until Sooyoung catches up with you, falling into pace with her.

Sooyoung, despite heaving from trying to pick up the pace with the rest of the team, cocks her head in your direction. “Oh? Why aren’t you with Seokjin?”

You shrug, sparing a glance in his direction before sighing. “I don’t know, maybe he had something to talk about with Irene.”

Sooyoung frowns, nudging you on the shoulder with her elbow. “Then don’t pout, it’s probably nothing.”

You’re about to respond when your coach blows his whistle, indicating to everyone to warm up with a partner for half court rallies. You turn and begin to walk towards Seokjin, but you pause once you see him completely ignore you and beeline straight for your team captain, Jung Hoseok.

Hoseok’s eyes widen in surprise when Seokjin approaches him, nodding carefully while briefly holding eye contact with you as Seokjin speaks with him.

“Uh,” You turn back around, grabbing Sooyoung by the wrist, “can you practice with me today?”

Sooyoung furrows her eyebrows, frowning further upon seeing your doubles partner head towards a court with Hoseok to practice. “Sure.”

As if that wasn’t weird enough, he was in a mood during the practice games as well. He didn’t even acknowledge you when you sought him out, only following you on the court as you played against your teammates. You tsk when he brushes past you to place his water bottle on the benches.

If he wasn’t going to talk to you, you’re just going to act like nothing is happening.

But that was becoming increasingly difficult. He wouldn’t talk strategy with you, much less offer you a high five between points, and it was messing up your flow in the game. You missed more of your serves than usual, even your second serves. Seokjin would look increasingly annoyed whenever you miss a ball, and you’re already hanging on a tight leash.

Seokjin is getting ready to serve for the next game, and he calls your name before passing you an extra ball to hold. You try to decline, but he’s already thrown it your way.

“Jin, can you just roll this ball to the corner?”

“Just keep it in your pockets like earlier?”

“In my pock- I don’t have pockets, Jin!” You yell back, throwing the ball back at him. “Female uniforms don’t have pockets.”

Seokjin squinted. “If you don’t have pockets, how are you holding the extra ball?”

You scoff, “We are not as blessed to have long pockets like you guys, so we stick it in our underwear!” You gleam upon seeing his face go from irritable to mortified. “That’s right, the tennis balls you’re touching? Probably has female sweat from being lodged between our hip and our underwear all the time. But guess what!” You don’t even give him time to respond. “I forgot to wear decent underwear, and unfortunately, a g-string does not hold the ball in place, so I’m having a bit of a hard time running around with a ball sliding down my shorts!”

Your teammate across the court clears his throat. “Uh… can we continue the game?”

You hold a finger in the air, “Yeah, one sec.” You turn back to Seokjin, feeling more angry as you look at him. “And if we did have pockets, they wouldn’t even hold the ball properly. So don’t you dare complain to me about not wanting to hold the extra ball for you while you serve, you privileged asshole! I don’t know why you’re cranky today, but either talk to me about it or don’t take it out on me!”

You huff, turning back around and standing in position at the net, swallowing in awkwardness at your argument with your doubles partner. Regardless, your other teammates also slowly get back into position and the game continues with a tense atmosphere.

You catch Hoseok at the end of practice trying to lock the courts while juggling the box of tennis balls in his other arm. “Hey, Cap! Let me help.” You jog up to him, grabbing the box from him as he finishes locking up.

He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, “Thanks. I could’ve set it down but for some reason I was making it harder on myself.”

“All good, see you tomorrow at practice!” You hand him back the box and prepare to head for the girls’ locker room when you feel a tug on your shoulder.

“Actually,” Hoseok starts, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about Seokjin.”

You bristle, “And what about him?”

Hoseok looks at you pointedly, “don’t give me that look. You know as my duty as team captain I have to keep you all in check, but I’ve been getting a couple of comments from some teammates that you’ve both been fighting a lot lately.” You want to interrupt but Hoseok stops you with a glare. “I know it’s none of my business to enter into people’s affairs, but this is making some of the members uncomfortable, hell, I’m uncomfortable because I don’t like practicing with Jin. That lobbying bastard.”

You chuckle, knowing how much people aren’t used to rallying with him like you’ve been for the past few years.

Hoseok smiles, “Just talk it out with him. Please. You can probably catch him since he’s just gone to the locker room. I don’t want to have to seek you out again, but I will if I have to.”

You jokingly salute at him, making your way to the locker room again. This time in a bit of a hurry. “Aye aye, captain.”

You pace quickly up the stairs to the locker room, hoping that Seokjin hadn’t gone home already. Just as you reach the top, you catch him leaving the boys’ locker room at the end of the hall. “Jin! Wait up!” You perk up once he stops in his tracks, jogging faster towards him. “Hey,” you pant slightly, “can we talk?”

Seokjin quirks his mouth to the side, thinking pensively for a moment before nodding.

You fall into step with Seokjin, trailing beside him as the both of you walk towards the exit. It was silent for the first few minutes, but those minutes were killing you. “Okay, I’m not gonna beat around the bush, why were you ignoring me today?”

Seokjin scoffs, unsurprised by your frankness. “I’m not ignoring you.”

“You’re not-oh don’t be a fucking liar now,” you hiss. “You didn’t do the warm-ups with me and you were being especially crabby during practice.”

“If anything, you’re the one that’s being crabby.”

You gasp, “you have the nerve. You know what I’m talking about.”

Seokjin groans, readjusting the tennis bag strap on his shoulder. “Look, I can make buddies with other people on the team, too, y’know?”

“This was different,” you whine. “What did I do wrong?”

Seokjin stops in place, forcing you to halt and stare at him. “Do you consider me as a friend?”

“Of course,” you reply immediately.

“But… only as a friend?”

Your heartbeat stops briefly. “Wh… what do you mean?”

Seokjin stands there, un-answering but intensely holding your gaze. You want to avert your eyes elsewhere, feeling too overwhelmed by his stare and the possible meanings behind his words. You nearly combust on the spot when he slowly raises his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

You sputter, “D-Do you…?”

Seokjin smiles sadly, placing his hand back in his pocket. “I guess you could say I was jealous earlier.” Upon seeing you frown in confusion, he continues, “Before the other school left the other day, I saw Taehyung exchange numbers with you. And you… you seemed pretty into him. It was a bit frustrating to see.”

Your mouth was left gaping, opening and closing like a fish. He was jealous? So that meant, he likes you? Or does he not like your fraternizing with the enemy?

Seokjin sighs at your silence, turning to begin walking again.

You’re stuck in place, trying to absorb this new information. But wait, he’s gone out the door. You haul ass to chase after him.

“Wait!” You holler at him, even though he didn’t gain that much distance from him. “Stop!”

Seokjin groans loudly, “What do you want from me?”

You catch up to him once again, tugging on the sleeve of his shirt. “You like me?”

Seokjin shakes his head, and you think you might cry on the spot for somehow misunderstanding him. “I can’t believe I have to confirm with you when it is so obvious.” He leans forward to flick you on the forehead. You whine, clasping sadly at your unnoticeable wound. “Yes, dummy. I like you, and I was so sure you felt the same way, but I guess I’m wrong.”

“EH??” You’re feeling a lot of emotions all over again, but on the bright side, you’re glad that the main one is happiness.

Seokjin scratches the back of his head, unsure if your reaction to this new revelation is good or bad. “Well, Hoseok told me that maybe you just exchanged numbers as friends, so I chilled out.” He starts to fiddle with the zipper on his shirt. “But then I overheard you talking to Irene about him outside the locker rooms. I asked her earlier if you were like, serious with him or something. And she just laughed in my face.” He pouts at that.

You almost laugh, almost. “I do, though. Like you, I mean. I exchanged numbers just to do it, but I didn’t have any real feelings towards Taehyung. At least not like the ones I have for you…” It feels weird to say out loud, and you feel like your heart is pounding way too hard in your chest. You aren’t even looking at Seokjin at this point, but aimlessly staring at trees.

You yelp as you’re harshly tugged forward, darting your eyes to the hands that grasped yours and then to the owner, who has a beaming smile on his face.

“Come on,” Seokjin chuckles, pulling you to the direction of his car in the parking lot.

“Where are we going?”

“Our first date. I know you have nothing better to do.”

You almost kick him in the shin for that. Almost means you attempted, but his long legs maneuver too fast for you to keep up. Seokjin laughs boisterously, dodging your attacks.

Although fake-upset at him, you smile along with him, intertwining your fingers together.

#btsboulangerie #btsbookclub #bts fanfic #bts fluff #seokjin fluff #seokjin fanfic #seokjin scenarios #bts x reader #jin x reader #bts scenarios #seokjin fanfiction #bts fanfiction #bts

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purplesurveys · 5 years ago

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776

What's the grossest thing you've encountered in/at a fast food joint? Other than the food itself I’ve honestly been pretty lucky with my experiences in fast food restaurants. No cockroaches or rats on the floor, insects in my drink, or mold in my food. The next grossest thing would probably be the tables and utensils, which never feel clean enough. Do you swallow chewing gum? Only accidentally but that’s super rare. Do you ever get goosebumps while listening to songs? Sure, if that song is supposed to mean a lot to me, has a powerful part, or if I haven’t heard it in a while. It doesn’t just happen to any song I like. Have you ever seen monkeys with underwear on at the zoo? No, I’ve never been to a zoo. Are there any amusement park rides you refuse to go on? Why? Yeah, all of them. My stomach is very weak and can’t handle rides. But it’s also kind of an advantage for my friends, because it means someone’ll be able to hold their bags and other belongings when they go on rides haha. I like being the mom in my friend groups, so it works out for me.

What is the best roller coaster you've ever been on? ...aaaaand it also just so happens that the roller coaster is my least favorite ride. Don't you think black jellybeans are icky? Idk, it depends on what flavor they’re supposed to be. I don’t eat jellybeans a lot though and I’m on neutral ground on most of them. Were you into the Beanie Baby craze? I was never into stuffed toys. Would you ever wish to ride a dolphin? No. I’d rather they stay undisturbed. We went dolphin-watching in Bohol a couple of years ago and our boats were very very far away, so much so the dolphins looked quite small, and that was enough for me. I always put my foot down when it comes to my parents booking vacation activities that might involve animals. Do you ever watch the news just for the weather forecast? No... I watch the news because I want to know what’s going on. The weather forecast is just another necessary segment, but honestly I can just check the weather out on my phone if I wanted to. What was the last thing you measured with a ruler? Our newspaper layout professor is super old-school and taught us the old way of layouting – pencil, ruler, and physical dummy sheets – so the last thing I measured was probably the dimensions of a photo in my sample dummy. What textbook will you be happiest to give up when school is over? When I graduated high school, I was more than happy to throw out my physics textbook. I also hated and never cared for trig and calculus, but I don’t even remember if we had a book for them. If they did, I probably got rid of those ASAP too. If your remote was missing, where is the most likely place you'd find it? Squished somewhere in the couch. What's the most beautiful place you've ever seen? Sagada, Batanes, Vigan were my favorite places to just look at. Would you rather have a Playstation or Xbox made console? Always been a Playstation kid. We never bought any XBox consoles. Enlighten me on your legalization feelings: Legalization of...? Do you think taxes on tobacco and gasoline are getting out of hand? I’m honestly not aware about taxes on gas, but I’m mostly okay with taxing tobacco products. If it’ll hinder some people from smoking and slowly destroying their health, all the better; and I say this as someone who smokes occasionally lmao I need a reason to do it less, and this works as one. If you could go to a rummage sale RIGHT NOW, what would you look for? Old wrestling memorabilia. Wrestling has always been a thing that people grow out of, and I know a lot of people have found old merch like toy rings and action figures in those kinds of sales. Honestly, have you ever had an irresponsible babysitter? I’ve never had a babysitter. Ever considered the thought that kangaroos technically have fanny packs? Uh I don’t really think about that. Have YOU ever worn a fanny pack? (Don't lie.) No, but the way you worded this question sounds like they’re something to be ashamed of which is def not the case today because they’re back in style haha. Would you rather have chow mein or lo mein? Eghh not a fan of noodles. What if you were watching COPS and saw your significant other on there? I don’t know what that show is. Have you ever tried to write to any celebrities? Not really, no.

When was the last time you blew bubbles? 11-12 years ago. Have you ever stumbled across a beehive? Nope. Did the last doctor's office you were in have a crappy magazine selection? It didn’t have a magazine selection at all. We were stuck there waiting for my turn for three hours, but fortunately I charged my phone before heading out and I was kept busy for that whole time. Were your school's lunch ladies scary? In my high school? No, they were all nice. Are some of them really scary in America or is that all just in the movies lol?? What food(s) make you cringe? It will take a lot for me to feel disgusted over food, unless they’re rotting already. I dislike certain foods, but they don’t make me cringe. Have you ever played an automated 20 Questions game and beat it? No. Have you been to a restaurant where they cook the food in front of you? Not that I can recall. But I’ve been to a restaurant where we had to cook the food on our own hahaha we have Korean barbecue a lot, so yeah. If you had a robot, what would you make it do for you? Make me iced coffee everyday. The last ball you threw was a...(baseball, basketball, etc.) Table tennis ball, probably. Do you think Twitter will outdo MySpace & Facebook, or is it just a fad? It outdid Myspace but as far as I know Facebook is still on top. Twitter has gotten very influential and dominant in the last decade though. Do you feel that presidential campaigns make people too competitive? For sure. Have you seen how much candidates are willing to spend for their campaign??? It’s stupid. Have you ever caught a friend snooping in your room? Nope. Do you find Family Guy hilarious or offensive? It can be both. Which is more exciting: an underwater city or a colony in space? I’d go with the more unfamiliar colony in space. Quick! Name the longest word starting with the letter 'J' you can think of: Jackhammer? Journalism? Jalapeño? Juggernaut? I’m out. Do you still write letters to people, even though there's e-mail now? Yes, if they’re important to me and if there’s a special occasion, like if I won’t be seeing them for a while or if it’s for Christmas. Have you ever had an accident involving a microwave? Nope.

#survey #surveys

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mseoparrot · 2 years ago

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Top 10 Dogs Ball Launchers in 2022

Dogs ball launchers are great tools we use to keep our little ones entertained. Having a good one is quite important. Now in case you have no idea what that is, a dog ball launcher is a tool designed to shoot a ball, preferably a tennis ball, into an open air or space where your pet is able to chase it and bring it back to you. Some launchers do not need your pet to bring as they come with a rope system attached to the ball, that rolls it back into the launcher. Ball launchers help keep your pet active and entertained even as they run around trying to catch the ball. Depending on the space being used, these gadgets can be programmed as to how far the ball goes.

Ball Launcher for large dogs:

1. iFetch Too

The iFetch Too, a slightly larger version of the company’s flagship automatic ball launcher, shoots tennis balls of standard size (2.5 inches). We were thrilled when iFetch announced this model because we have larger dogs and the original iFetch balls probably could not be eaten.

The adjustable distance is now 10 feet, 25 feet, 40 feet, or random, in addition to throwing a larger tennis ball. Your dog will have a lot of fun playing outside because of the added “random” feature, which keeps him guessing.

2. iDogmate

There are two sizes of iDogmate.S can shoot 1.5-inch mini tennis balls, whereas L can shoot standard 2.5-inch tennis balls. In addition to iFetch, iDogmate is the only ball launcher on the market that offers a variety of products to suit the requirements of every dog.

Additionally, the iDogmate Ball Toss comes in four different distances:10, 20, 40, and 50 feet. In addition to having the ability to launch the ball further, this automatic ball launcher also includes a remote control for controlling it from a distance. The iDogmate is your dog ball launcher for fetching over long distances. To get the full picture, check out our hands-on review of the iDogmate.

Ball Launcher For Small Dogs:

3. iFetch

One of the first companies to make interactive ball launchers available to the public was iFetch. The iFetch Ball Launcher, the company’s flagship product, is made for small to medium sized dogs and can launch mini tennis balls measuring 1.5 inches at distances of 10, 20, or 30 feet.

iFetch is usable both inside and outside due to its adjustable distance. The iFetch line of products has a great selection of dog-loving, one-of-a-kind toys.

4. Pulse Smart

One of the most original and cutting-edge ball launchers currently available is the SmartPost. This smart ball launcher with an app lets your dog play fetch and get a mental workout while giving them treats.

You can throw balls, serve snacks, and set distances from anywhere in the world using the app. The launcher can be used indoors or outdoors, and the SmartPult can run on batteries or the AC charger that comes with it.

5. Frenzy of iFetch

For small and medium-sized dogs, iFetch Frenzy is a novel and innovative mind-expanding game. Even though it isn’t an official ball launcher, we think this interactive game belongs in this category.

Neither batteries nor power is needed by iFetch Frenzy. Instead, your dog can roll a small tennis ball out of one of the three chutes at the bottom of the Frenzy. iFetch Frenzy is a great game for keeping your dog entertained and preventing boredom from repetition due to its lack of predictability.

6. GoDogGo

The first dog ball launcher, GoDogGo, was released in 1999. The “G4” is the fourth iteration of the GoDogGo Fetch Machine that they are currently working on. Additionally, there is a “Jr” model that fires a smaller dodgeball. The G4 can be used with tennis balls of any size.

There are some special features of the G4. For one thing, the cube design lets you load a lot of balls at once and launch them at predetermined intervals or with the remote control that comes with it.

The “Safety Arc” design, which shoots the dog ball into the air rather than directly at your dog, is another unique feature. It is not suitable for indoor use due to its high arc and lacks of a rechargeable battery. Either six AA batteries or an AC adapter can power the Fetch Machine.

7. Automatic PetSafe Ball Launcher

For a very long time, PetSafe has been a leading manufacturer of products for pets, such as interactive ball launchers and other “pet tech” gadgets. The PetSafe Automatic Ball Launcher has six distinct angle settings and a highly adjustable setting that ranges from 8′ to 30’. Additionally, a safety sensor prevents the ball from being thrown when a person or pet is in front of it.

8. Hyperpet K-9 Canon

The Hyperpet K-9 Cannon is a ball launcher with a patented cannon shape. The K-9 Kannon can be picked up without using your hands, holds one more ball, and comes with two standard-size tennis balls.

The Launcher works by putting a ball in front of Kannon. You can do this by pushing the muzzle of the ball and putting it directly on the ground. Pull the back handle to load the ball and fire it with the trigger from there.

9. OxGord Bazouk-9

A very cool ball launcher with a shoulder strap for easy portability is the OxGord Bazooka-9. This launcher can hold three tennis balls at once and comes with two squeaky tennis balls.

10. Hyper Pet Launcher

The Hyper Dog Ball Launcher has a novel, patented design that makes it possible to launch a tennis ball in any direction for more than 200 feet. The Hyper Launcher, like the Chuckit, has a hands-free pickup, which reduces shoulder strain when launching the ball. Be that as it may, the actual item is a lot bulkier than the first Chuckit and costs a touch more.

#my doggo #puppy #dog #pet

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lilyvandersteen · 7 years ago

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Puppy Eyes Chapter 8

This is again from Blaine's point of view. A bit of a filler chapter, this one. The next one will be juicier :-)

Warning for a brief mention of Finn dying.

This chapter is unbetaed, because once again, I procrastinated writing it and my lovely beta @hkvoyage hasn't read it yet, seeing as I've only just finished writing the last sentence... Updating weekly is proving quite a challenge!

Thank you so much to everyone who sends me feedback - you're wonderful and you spur me on to keep writing :-)

This story is also on AO3 and on Fanfiction.net.

The other parts can be found here: Prologue - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7

Chapter 8: Thanksgiving

Blaine had been so scared of Kurt finding out his secret, but now that it was out in the open, he felt lighter and freer than he had in years.

There was no judgment from Kurt’s end whatsoever, and he knew about magic, and even about people who could break a curse, apparently. Well, that was interesting, and worth looking into. But Blaine forgot about it quickly when Kurt told him how his mother had been cursed.

As Blaine listened, it struck him how small and vulnerable Kurt looked, every inch that little boy again who missed his mom. Blaine scooted a little closer and took Kurt’s hand in his to provide some comfort. The pain in Kurt’s eyes didn’t recede, but his spine straightened, and his words came out more readily, and a bit louder.

The story ended with Kurt’s mother dying, and Kurt crumpled again. There was more than pain in his eyes now, and when he refused to look Blaine straight in the eye, it was pretty clear what the matter was. Kurt felt guilty. Guilty because a homophobic woman had cursed his mom.

Blaine took a tissue from the box on the coffee table, and dried Kurt’s tears while he reasoned with him, trying to make him see that the fault wasn’t his. Kurt nodded, but kept sobbing soundlessly. It broke Blaine’s heart to see him that way. Kurt was usually such a positive presence in his life, vibrant and unique, such a sharp contrast to the broken boy now crying his heart out next to Blaine.

What could Blaine do to make Kurt feel better? In the end, he moved in for a hug. It did not have the comforting effect he’d intended, since he was still naked, and the reminder of that shocked Kurt, but it did make Kurt stop crying, so Blaine counted it as a win.

Kurt made Blaine go put on some clothes, and after that, they went outside to walk the dogs Blaine usually joined for play time at the park. It was weird, suddenly being a human alongside Kurt, and holding one of the dogs’ leashes instead of trotting next to them and challenging Snowball to a race. Blaine liked it, though. He liked the family feel of it, as if the dogs were theirs, and they went for an evening stroll together every day.

Blaine found himself wishing this could be his reality. If things had been different, if he’d never been cursed, this was what Blaine would have liked to have. A family. Just thinking about it hit Blaine with a fierce stab of longing. He wanted this. He wanted more than a lonely existence, always worrying about when the curse would strike next. He wanted Kurt next to him, capable and comforting and so compatible with Blaine, in spite of their age difference. What was it about Kurt that made Blaine feel so at home with him?

And then it came to Blaine. Kurt was a dog-sitter now. Would he consider becoming Blaine’s dog-sitter full-time? It would be pricey, but Blaine had more money than he could spend in a lifetime anyway. But perhaps Kurt was like Trent and would shy away from Blaine in his dog form now that he knew there was a human trapped inside. Would he?

He broached the subject with Kurt, and after some deliberation, Kurt agreed to move in with him and look after him any time he turned into a dog, on the condition that he’d still get to walk other dogs. Well, that was no problem.

Happy as a clam now, Blaine threw a tennis ball for the dogs to catch and did a silly dance waiting for them to return.

Kurt snorted. “Dork!”

Blaine beamed at him. “No take-backs! You promised to stay, so you’re stuck with me now.”

Kurt’s eyes softened. “I wasn’t going to take it back. I like you being dorky. You’re never afraid to be yourself.”

Blaine nodded, crouching down to take the tennis ball from Snowball, pet the dog and throw it again. “There’s nothing more bad-ass than being yourself.”

Kurt snorted again, cuddling Titus, who made no move to chase the tennis ball but stayed close to Kurt. “You sound like this guy I know from high school. Called himself Puck.”

“You should tell me about him sometime,” Blaine said, grinning ear to ear at the thought of having Kurt to talk to every morning and every evening. “And what was that about Rachel and a curse breaking her heart?”

As soon as he’d asked, he wished he could take it back and duct-tape his mouth shut for good measure, because his question sniffed out the amused glimmer in Kurt’s eyes, and left them haunted again.

Kurt absent-mindedly stroked Titus’s fur, looking blankly ahead. “Rachel… We were in high school together, I told you. And we crushed on the same guy, have I ever told you that?”

“No. You only told me about Karofsky.”

Kurt nodded and let out a sigh that seemed to come straight from his toes. “Well… Rachel and I… We weren’t friends back then. Not really. And we both crushed on Finn.”

Blaine frowned. “As in… your stepbrother? Who died?”

“Yeah,” Kurt confirmed, accepting a tennis ball from Snowball with a murmur of praise and offering him a dog treat. “Only he wasn’t my brother yet at that point. Anyway, Rachel and Finn ended up dating, but they had this on and off kind of relationship. And during one of the off moments, she met Jesse. And fell for him. But she still had feelings for Finn, too. And she made this music video, oh God, it was bad, where the both of them sang with her. Plus Puck, but that doesn’t really matter now. And Jesse felt hurt. Like… Like Rachel had cheated on him by singing with other guys. So he broke up with her, and he shouted, ‘We’re over. There. Now you can be with Finn, like you wanted. I hope you know that you and Finn will NEVER be happy together. NEVER!’ And then he stormed out. They were quite the dramatic pair, Rachel and Jesse. Never a dull moment with them.”

“Wow,” said Blaine. That was more drama than the Warblers had ever been through, to his knowledge.

“And then about a year ago, Finn died,” Kurt continued. “And we were all devastated. We still are. But I remember Rachel, during one of our crying sessions at the loft, sitting up straight all of a sudden and going, ‘It’s Jesse! It’s all his fault! He told me we’d never be happy together! He cursed Finn!’ And I gaped at her, ‘cause it hadn’t felt like magic at all, that day in the choir room. But Rachel kept insisting it had been a curse, and even went to a curse breaker to verify it, but there were no traces of magic on her. So she said the curse must only have hit Finn. I don’t know. She could be right.”

“Wow,” Blaine repeated. A wet nose nudged him, and he looked down to see that Snowball was offering the tennis ball to him this time around. He petted the dog and then threw the ball as far as he could.

“I know, right?” Kurt sighed. “Elliott thinks magic is heaps of fun, but in my experience, it’s only ever caused bad stuff to happen.”

“My… furry problem is the only brush I’ve had with magic.”

Kurt snorted. “Furry problem? A Harry Potter nerd, are we?”

“Hey, you recognised it, so who’s the nerd here?” Blaine countered.

Bickering companionably, they called the dogs to them and went home.

K&B

Living with Kurt was easy. They both had a full schedule, but it worked out so that on days that Blaine was home late, Kurt had the time to cook in the evening, and when Kurt was at R/GA until six and had to walk dogs straight after, Blaine made sure he had dinner ready by the time Kurt came home.

On weekends, they walked the dogs together, while sharing more about their lives and family and friends. There were never any awkward silences with Kurt. They never seemed to run out of topics to talk about, and every facet of Kurt that Blaine discovered made him like Kurt more.

Still, he couldn’t help but compare this situation to living with Trent, sometimes, and it always made him feel awful that Trent had left in high dudgeon and hadn’t contacted him since. Was he still mad at Blaine?

He brought it up with Kurt, who rolled his eyes and said, “If he won’t call you, why don’t you take the initiative? It’s a two-way street. If you miss him so much, call him, go on.”

But Blaine, however often he scrolled to Trent’s name in his list of phone contacts, and however many texts he composed, always chickened out on calling or texting his friend. What if Trent didn’t want anything more to do with him? He didn’t think he could bear that.

K&B

Kurt was very close to his dad, and would call him twice a week without fail. When Kurt had moved in with Blaine, Burt had insisted on “meeting” Blaine through FaceTime, and had questioned him thoroughly.

“You’re not… taking advantage of Kurt, are you?” Burt asked.

Blaine was quick to say no. “I would never!”

“Cause the kid has a crush on you the size of Texas,” Burt explained, while Kurt, behind Blaine, hissed out an affronted “Dad!!”

“What? It’s true, kiddo, and your guy should know it, if you’re living with him.”

Kurt sighed. “Blaine does know. I told him. And he doesn’t mind, do you, Blaine?”

Blaine smiled and confirmed that it made no difference to him whatsoever, but that didn’t make Burt lighten up in the slightest. If anything, his scowl deepened.

“So why do you wanna live with my kid anyway?” Burt wanted to know, and Blaine felt like he had no other option than to tell the truth, and explained haltingly about the curse.

“So basically he’s going to be looking after you as long as he’s at Parsons?” Burt asked.

Blaine hadn’t thought so far ahead, but nodded. “I’ll be paying him!”

“You’d better,” Burt growled. “And don’t you dare lead him on and break his heart.”

Kurt had interjected here with another “Dad!!” and had taken his laptop to his bedroom, telling Burt off for scaring Blaine.

After that first FaceTime call, Burt hadn’t asked to talk to Blaine again, until in early November, Kurt came into the living room and sat down next to Blaine on the sofa, shoving his laptop half onto Blaine’s lap so that he could see Burt and his wife Carole on the screen.

“So, uhm, Blaine,” Burt said, “I wanted to ask what your plans are for Thanksgiving. Are you coming to Ohio? Kurt mentioned you’re from these parts.”

Blaine was a bit taken aback. He hadn’t discussed the holidays yet with Pam. Usually, Pam split the holidays, spending Thanksgiving with Cooper and then Christmas with Blaine, or vice versa. Cooper didn’t know about the curse, and Blaine didn’t want him to find out ever, since Coop couldn’t keep a secret to save his life. So Blaine hadn’t seen Cooper in over a decade, and he only rarely went to Ohio, his mother usually choosing to come to NYC and shop.

“I don’t know yet, sir, I need to ask my mom.”

“Well, we’d love to have you here for Thanksgiving. And you can bring your mom, if you like. The more the merrier.”

Carole nodded enthusiastically. “I’m looking forward to meeting you for real. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Blaine promised to discuss it with his mother, and Kurt went to his bedroom again for the rest of his conversation with his parents.

When Kurt came back to the living room, he sank down on the sofa with a sigh.

“What’s wrong?” Blaine asked.

Kurt shrugged. “My dad wants me home for both Thanksgiving and Christmas, like the previous years. The thing is, I already splurged to fly to Ohio this summer, and I’m taking all these extra classes now, so I don’t have any money to spare for plane tickets. So either I’m going to have to take on extra dog walking assignments, and then I’ll fall behind with my schoolwork, or I’m going to have to drive to Ohio instead of flying, which is exhausting and leaves me less time with my family.”

“I’ll pay for the plane tickets,” Blaine said. “It’s the least I can do now that your dad has invited me over for the holidays. No, no, don’t protest. Let me do this for you, please, in return for you looking after me whenever I turn into a dog.”

“You’re paying me for that already!” Kurt protested.

“Well, consider it your holiday bonus, then,” Blaine suggested.

Kurt shook his head, but made no more objections, a small smile playing on his lips. “It will be nice to go home. You can stay in Finn’s room. And help me and Carole make Thanksgiving dinner.”

Blaine beamed at Kurt. “That sounds great.”

When Blaine called his mother about her holiday plans, she was very interested to hear Kurt’s family had invited him for Thanksgiving. “Are you dating this Kurt now? I thought he was a student of yours? That you payed to dog-sit?”

Blaine rolled his eyes at his mom and said there was nothing going on between him and Kurt. He had a feeling he’d be telling her that often.

Pam had no objection to Blaine coming to Ohio. “I’m in LA with Cooper for Thanksgiving, but I’ll be back by Saturday. If you stay the whole weekend, you and Kurt could come over for dinner on Sunday, before you fly back to New York.”

So that was Thanksgiving sorted out. Blaine booked their plane tickets and consulted Kurt about the perfect hostess gift for Carole. “Belgian chocolates, maybe? There’s this shop that sells not just Neuhaus, but also The Chocolate Line and even Sweertvaegher. Or maybe an assortment of delicacies? Or, you said Carole loves to cook, so maybe a kitchen accessory she doesn’t already have?”

Kurt just shrugged and told Blaine not to sweat it. “Carole’s not expecting anything. So whatever you bring will be a lovely surprise for her.”

Kurt was quite right about that. When they arrived at Kurt’s childhood home and Blaine offered his hostess gift to Carole, her eyes went wide, and she took out each item he’d bought her at the delicatessen with so much reverence and awe that he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Blaine, you shouldn’t have,” she whispered. “This is too much.”

“Seeing as I’ll be staying here for the entire weekend, I’d say it’s not enough,” Blaine countered. “Thank you so much for inviting me.”

“Oh, you’re very welcome, honey. Any friend of Kurt’s is always welcome here, and you’re more than just a friend, aren’t you?”

Blaine didn’t quite know how to answer that question, but Kurt swooped in to hug Carole and told her to stop fishing. “We’re not together, I told you that. Treat Blaine like he’s… Sam. Or Mike.”

“Haven’t you had crushes on the both of them, too?” Burt asked slyly, and Kurt groaned.

“My point is that they’re friends of mine,” Kurt explained. “Just friends, and never going to be more than friends, ‘cause they’re straight.”

“But Blaine is gay, isn’t he?” Burt pressed on.

Blaine nodded. “I’m gay.”

“See?” Burt crowed.

Kurt rolled his eyes and hissed at Blaine, “Not. Helping!”

To his dad, he said, “Yes, he’s gay. That doesn’t mean he’s into me. Gay men can be just friends.”

Blaine smiled at him.

Burt fixed the both of them with a piercing look. “Hmmpf. We’ll see.”

Kurt moaned about his dad embarrassing him a million more times that weekend, but Pam proved to be just as bad on Sunday, showing Kurt Blaine’s baby pictures and telling him all sorts of anecdotes about Blaine as a child.

“And I was pouring Mrs Islington more tea when Blaine came storming in, dressed only in a cape he’d made from his comforter, and screaming at the top of his lungs that our house was on fire and that we all had to get out. And all the ladies panicked and hurried out of the dining room before I could tell them that my son was only playing Superman. Well, you can imagine I wasn’t too pleased with our little streaker here. So he had to do without television and without dessert for two weeks.”

“Moooom…”

But one look at Kurt, giggling his head off, his grin wide enough to show all his teeth, shut Blaine up and made him smile right back at Kurt.

Pam brought them to the airport that afternoon, and they were having coffee at Starbucks waiting for the boarding to start when Blaine felt a tell-tale skin prickle. “Oh, no! It’s starting again! I need to get to the restroom!”

Minutes later, he heard a knock on the cubicle he was hiding in. “Blaine? I’m here.”

Blaine stopped blocking the door and trotted out. Kurt picked up Blaine’s clothes and shoes and put them in a canvas bag.

“Come here, sweetie, I need to put your collar on,” Kurt whispered, and quick as a flash, he fastened the collar around Blaine’s neck and then attached a leash to it, leading Blaine out of the restroom.

“We’re not going to be able to fly home,” Kurt continued, louder now. “I’m going to rent a car instead.”

Blaine stopped short. Driving to New York City? That would take eight hours at the very least! And Blaine couldn’t take over halfway!

Kurt crouched down and hugged Blaine. “Don’t panic, sweetheart. I’ve done this before. I don’t really like driving that far, but I can do it. No worries. I’m just glad you didn’t transform on the plane. That would have been hard to explain. Has that ever happened before?”

Blaine shook his head. He’d never even thought of that, travelling by plane without a care in the world. But in hindsight, yes, transforming mid-flight had always been a distinct possibility. And he wasn’t a tiny dog that could be hidden in Kurt’s backpack. He shuddered to think of how the flight attendants might react to a stowaway dog in the cabin, and felt Kurt’s embrace tighten in response.

“We really need to break this curse,” Kurt sighed. “I asked my dad to make appointments with the curse breakers he took my mom to, so that we can go see them during our Christmas break.”

Blaine looked up at Kurt in surprise. In all the years that Trent had looked after him, he’d only ever devised ways of dealing with the consequences of the curse. Trent seemed resigned to the curse. Kurt clearly wasn’t. He seemed determined to break it. Would he succeed? Was there hope for a normal life for Blaine?

Kurt rubbed Blaine behind the ears. “We’ll sort this out. I promise you. Come, let’s go rent a car and go home. We both have class tomorrow.”

Blaine felt his tail wag like mad as he followed Kurt, new hope blooming in his heart and new nerves fluttering in his belly. Would Alexei have left a loophole in the curse? Or would he crack down hard on Blaine and anyone helping him to break it?

#puppy eyes #my fic #chapter 8 #klaine fanfiction

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liliannorman · 4 years ago

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A robot referee can really keep its ‘eye’ on the ball

Thwack! Taylor Townsend’s serve sends the tennis ball hurtling over the net. Her opponent returns it, but the ball lands just past the line. “Out,” says a voice. Townsend, a professional tennis player from Chicago, Ill., wins a point.

This may seem like an ordinary tennis match. But who yelled “out”? It wasn’t a real umpire, at least not a living one. It was a computer system. Called Hawk-Eye Live, it tracks each ball in World TeamTennis matches. Its mission: Figure out exactly where a ball lands, then make the call.

In sports, things move quickly. In the summer Olympics, you see tennis serves that propel balls at more than 190 kilometers (120 miles) per hour. Baseball pitches can zoom over the plate at 150 kph (90 mph) or more. A gymnast launching off the vault will flip and twist multiple times within a single second.

Even at these speeds, accuracy matters. A tennis ball must land inside the lines of the court for play to continue. A baseball must pass through an invisible box near the hitter to count as a strike. And gymnasts will be graded based on how many flips and twists they do — and how well they do them.

To make these calls, human referees, umpires and judges train for years. But “the human eye is flawed,” says Bryan Hicks. He’s a tennis umpire and director of officiating for World TeamTennis in Carlsbad, Calif. Human eyes can’t always catch high-speed action. Even the most experienced officials make mistakes. In an Olympic event, an official’s mistake could send the wrong player or team home with the gold medal.

Can technology like Hawk-Eye do a better job at keeping an eye on the ball? Yes, say many coaches, players — and even umpires.

Hicks says that Hawk-Eye Live has made tennis “more accurate.” Similar systems could make many sports fairer. Already, some organizations are experimenting with systems that take over part of the job of a human umpire or judge. You may not see these systems in action yet in professional competitions and Olympic qualifying events. But in coming years, they will likely become common, if not the norm.

A virtual tennis court

In most professional tennis matches, the main umpire — called the chair umpire — sits right beside the net. At the same time, up to nine more umpires watch the lines all around the court. These line umpires decide whether a ball lands in or out of the court. If the ball is in, the player on the receiving side must return it or lose the point. If the ball is out, the other player loses the point.

The Hawk-Eye computer system watches the ball, too. If a player disagrees with the umpire’s call, she can challenge it. Then, the umpires look at Hawk-Eye’s result.

In World TeamTennis, things are different.

This organization runs a series of team-based matches every summer. In 2018, they replaced all human line umpires with a new version of Hawk-Eye that makes live calls. The chair umpire is still responsible for running the game. But the computer system makes all calls at the lines.

“In tennis, it’s a very thin line between in and out [of bounds],” says Townsend. Robots now make most of the calls in her games and she’s glad: “I thought it was great to take human error out.”World TeamTennis

Taylor Townsend says that the system gives her peace of mind. “In tennis, it’s a very thin line between in and out,” she says. “I thought it was great to take human error out.”

Human umps may feel hot or tired. They may have the sun in their eyes or become distracted by a mosquito. They may even unintentionally favor players of certain nationalities, races, ages or backgrounds. A machine will not experience any of these problems.

So how does the machine do it? Engineers must first spend several days setting up each stadium that will use the system. They measure the precise position of all the lines and “create a virtual-reality world to mirror what is in the stadium,” explains Hicks. They also set up 12 cameras. These will watch every part of the area where the game takes place. Then the engineers run tests — lots of them — to make sure everything works as it should.

During a match, those cameras capture a ball’s flight. Software finds the tennis ball in the video. It can do this in bright, overcast or shadowy conditions. A video camera doesn’t capture every single moment of the ball’s flight, however. It actually takes many still photos very quickly. The number of photos it can take in one second is called the frame rate. In each frame, the ball will be in a new position. The system uses math to calculate a smooth path between all these positions. It also takes wind conditions into account.

The Hawk-Eye Live computer system contains a virtual version of an actual tennis court. As a tennis ball flies across the court in real life, its path gets mapped on the screen.World TeamTennis

The system now places this ball’s path into the virtual court. When the ball touches the ground in the real world, it also touches the ground in the virtual one. The system instantly knows which side of the virtual line the ball is on. And it can play back a video of the ball landing in the virtual court.

But is that where it landed in reality? Tests by Hawk-Eye Innovations show the system is accurate to within 2.6 millimeters (a tenth of an inch).

Radar to the rescue

A tennis court’s lines are painted on the ground. In that sense, they are fixed. In baseball, the pitcher aims to throw the ball through something called the strike zone. “It’s an imaginary floating box,” explains Brian deBrauwere of Hershey, Penn. He’s an umpire with Atlantic League baseball, now in its 23rd year. (So far, Major League Baseball teams have signed contracts with more than 100 Atlantic League players.)

The strike zone is as wide as home plate. Its height extends from a batter’s knees to the middle of his chest. So its size varies with the stance and build of a player. This gives each batter a fair chance to hit the ball. If a baseball travels through this imaginary box on its way from the pitcher to the catcher, or if the batter swings and misses, the umpire calls a strike. If the batter doesn’t swing and the baseball doesn’t pass through the strike zone, the umpire calls a ball. (If the pitcher gets three strikes, the batter’s out. A batter who gets four balls gets a free walk to first base.)

Human umpires tend to see this imaginary strike zone somewhat differently. Fred DeJesus, an umpire with Atlantic League baseball, says the strike zone used to “change day to day, umpire to umpire.” In his league today, the zone is much more consistent. That’s because a computer system named TrackMan now calls all balls and strikes.

On July 25, 2019, Fred DeJesus, here, became the first umpire to use the TrackMan “robot” system to call pitches during a regular-season professional baseball game. “Once the pitch comes in and hits the glove,” he notes, “you’ve got a voice in your head saying ‘ball’ or ‘strike.’” Somerset Patriots

TrackMan doesn’t use any cameras. Instead, a box-shaped radar dish located above home plate sends pulses of radio waves toward the pitcher. When these waves hit the moving baseball, they bounce back. The system measures these returning waves to figure out the ball’s position and to figure out how quickly it’s moving. This is called Doppler radar tracking.

TrackMan and similar systems were originally developed to give golfers and baseball players detailed information about how fast they hit or threw the ball and how its arc curved. This can help them improve their skills. But the same system also can act as a robot umpire. All it needs to know is where the strike zone is.

Once again, engineers have to carefully set up the system for each ballpark. They measure the precise position of home plate. They also collect all the players’ heights. The system then maps a strike zone for each successive batter based on his height in its database. The system does not look for the player’s knees or chest. No matter how the player stands, his strike zone will not vary. It will remain in the same place.

As each pitch comes in, the system calculates its path and decides whether the ball goes through that player’s strike zone. The home plate umpire then hears a voice through an earpiece. It says “ball” or “strike.” If the system makes an obvious mistake or fails to track the pitch, the human umpire must make the call.

Here’s the earpiece that Fred DeJesus wore in the first use of the TrackMan system to call balls and strikes in professional baseball. This device is now part of a collection in the National Baseball Hall of Fame. Milo Stewart Jr./National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum

DeBrauwere used this system during the 2019 Atlantic League season. At first, “it was very odd and disconcerting,” he says. He didn’t really like having a computer tell him what to call. Though the experience soon began to feel normal, he thinks the system is not quite good enough. It’s pretty accurate for balls that move in a straight path, he says. But it doesn’t work as well for sliders and curveball pitches, or in windy conditions. In these cases, there’s a greater chance that the computer’s calculations won’t match reality.

Other factors can mess with TrackMan’s results, too. For one thing, players haven’t always been honest about their height. DeJesus says they tended to add a few inches. When they realized how TrackMan worked, though, they had to come clean. Another time, when a player slid into home, the plate moved slightly. The system had no way of knowing that home plate had moved. So it calculated the strike zone where home plate used to be.

“We had to realign home plate,” recalls Rick White, president of the Atlantic League in New York City.

With each such situation, the league has been working out the kinks of its new system. Overall, White says, the goal is for the strike zone to be “a little more consistent and predictable.” Major League Baseball (MLB) sponsored the setup of TrackMan systems in Atlantic League ballparks. Minor League Baseball plans to soon begin using TrackMan to call balls and strikes for its games. If all goes well, within five years MLB parks could start using this technology or something similar.

Flips and twists

If tracking a fast-moving ball’s precise position seems tricky, imagine trying to track how well an entire person spins or flips. This is what gymnastics judges do. In the Olympics and other major competitions, gymnasts are scored on the difficulty and execution of certain moves. Difficulty measures the number and types of flips or twists. But the movements often are so fast that they’re hard for the naked eye to register, explains Brett McClure. A former Olympic athlete, he now coaches the USA Gymnastics men’s team. Judges often guess the number of flips or spins based on how long the athlete stayed in the air and what position he or she landed in.

Gymnasts also get an execution score based on the angle of their joints. For example, in a handstand, the athlete’s arms should be perfectly straight. A judge will deduct points based on the degree of any bending. Once again, human eyes can only guess what the actual angle had been.

Explainer: What are lidar, radar and sonar?

A new computer system doesn’t have to guess. Shoichi Masui and other engineers at Fujitsu Laboratories Ltd. in Kanagawa, Japan, developed the system. It uses 3D laser-sensor technology, also known as lidar, to capture the contours of a gymnast’s body. It can count twists and flips and measure body angles.

“This project started from a joke,” says Masui. The International Gymnastics Federation is the group that governs the sport of gymnastics. In 2015, its president joked that by 2020 robots would score gymnastics. Now, Masui says, it is no joke. It’s reality.

Movie makers and video-game developers regularly use motion-capture technology to record human actors. Then they map the actor’s motions onto digital characters. Usually, the people being tracked have to wear bright white markers all over their bodies. The markers show the system exactly what to track. But “it is impossible for gymnasts to wear markers in actual competitions,” says Masui. Those markers would get in the way.

youtube

Judges and fans weren’t the only ones watching the 2019 Gymnastics World Championships in Stuttgart, Germany. Lidar equipment watched, too. And an artificial intelligence system turned data on the performances into models of the moving athletes.

Instead, Masui’s team used artificial intelligence. The Fujitsu team built an artificial-intelligence program that could learn to recognize and outline a human skeleton within these motion data.

During the 2019 Artistic Gymnastics World Championships in Stuttgart, Germany, judges could use the system during the pommel horse, still rings and men’s and women’s vault events. They only turned to the system for difficulty scores, and then only if they disagreed with each other or if a coach questioned a gymnast’s score.

McClure and his team were there. Since everyone’s skeleton is different, the gymnasts each had to get measured. They stood on a platform and lifted an arm. Then they lifted a leg. All the while, lidar measured the exact dimensions of their bodies. Once the system had these data, it could track that person’s skeleton. The display looks like “a stick figure flying through the air,” says McClure. “It’s pretty cool.”

This computer system can find and follow an athlete’s arms, legs and torso, no matter how they move. It also measures precise angles. Gymnasts can use the information for training. Judges can use it in competition to grade a performance.Fujitsu Limited

Robots vs. humans

McClure is glad to have a system that can take the guessing out of difficulty scores in gymnastics. Eventually, the system may be tapped to help judge execution scores, too. Still, he notes, there will always be a place for human judges.

In some gymnastics routines, artistry matters. In the women’s floor routine, for instance, the athlete dances to music. “How does a machine tell who is a good dancer and who is a bad dancer?” McClure asks. That’s not something you can figure out with math.

Human umpires in baseball and tennis still have important jobs, too. Hicks points out that a tennis umpire is always paying attention to the players’ moods and how they act on court. Part of his job is to keep things under control — and a computer can’t calm down an upset or angry player. Thanks to Hawk-Eye Live, “the umpire has more attention to give to things that are better for humans to do,” he says. Baseball umpires often similarly attempt to keep the peace.

Technology could certainly make all these sports and many others more consistent and fairer. But is that what fans really want?

“Many people care about sports in the same way they care about music or art,” says Karen Levy. She’s a lawyer and sociologist at Cornell University in Ithaca, NY. You would probably rather watch a person sing your favorite song than see a robot do it. In the same way, you’d probably prefer to watch people play and referee sports.

Sometimes, she points out, human error actually makes the sport more exciting. A bad call or a mistake riles up and energizes the fans.

“People root for sports teams like heroes,” says Levy. And when heroes face difficulty or injustice, it sometimes makes us like them even more.

A robot referee can really keep its ‘eye’ on the ball published first on https://triviaqaweb.tumblr.com/

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kpopreactionstoruinyourlife · 7 years ago

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Song Girl - Part 14B - Sungjin Fan Fiction

Song Girl Masterlist

Part 14B - May 2014

Summary: There’s a new girl at JYPE

“God damn it,” Jae muttered as they walked toward the table. “Hey bro,” Jae said sliding into the booth opposite Sungjin, Ella following him to sit opposite Seayeon. Brian pulled up a chair and studied them with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension.

“Hey Ella, I didn’t know you’d be done this early!” Sungjin said after smiling at Jae, before he noticed Ella. He beamed for a moment until he saw how utterly unhappy she looked. He'd never seen her look so furious but it was only in her eyes; a smile was plastered on her face.

He did not notice how Seayeon was staring daggers at Ella while she leaned closer to him; Ella was only returning the death glare in equal measure.

He did notice how his girlfriend leaned closer to Jae. Closer than he'd ever seen her with him. His mind spun, desperately working to make sure nothing was going on between them. He was blissfully unaware of the girl pushing against his own arm.

“Hey, I hope you don’t mind if we join you.” El said with a glance at Sungjin with another sugary smile. The she returned to glaring at Seayeon, addressing her statement to the interloping girl.

“I haven’t seen you around before, who are you?” Seayeon asked sweetly, leaning toward Ella. She purposefully pushed her chest into Sungjin’s arm. He was unaware - too busy staring at Ella trying to figure what the hell was going on with her.

“She’s my-” Sungjin started but El finished before he could.

“I’m Ella, and I’m not a trainee.” I’m your worst nightmare.

Sungjin stared at her, opening his mouth to clarify that she was in fact his girlfriend when he saw her lean into Jae closer than she ever had before and he clamped his mouth shut, clenching his teeth. What the fuck?

It was bad enough that he already knew Jae could understand things about Ella much better than he could. It was bad enough knowing that her parents would like Jae better since he’d at least been to college. It was bad enough knowing that she’d known Jae first. It was too much to see her with him like that together. He couldn’t even hear their words over the sound of his heartbeat and his rushing, boiling blood.

“I met Ella almost a year ago.” Jae said, filling the silence as the two girls stared each other down. His words were careful, nervous, but measured. He didn't want to do anything to set them off; their fingers were already on the trigger.

“You really should hear Sungjin sing, he’s incredible.” Seayeon said, running a hand down Sungjin’s arm. Her touch made him jump. He dropped his chopsticks and tried to edge away from Seayeon. But he had nowhere to go, he was trapped between her and the wall. Seayeon didn’t notice his bid for escape but Ella did, and she used it as justification to direct all her attention and fury to Seayeon. The part of her that was placated by his resistance to Seayeon was far too quiet to quell her territorial fury.

Jae braced himself for the fury of a woman scorned, ready to dive in front of his food to protect it. Brian was half tempted to record this to show Junhyeok later but that part of him was outgunned by his wanting to be out of the range of fire; recording a cat fight would probably get him into it, unwillingly.

“I have heard him sing.” Ella said lightly. He’s sung me to sleep before. “They’re all really good.” She added, running her hand over Jae’s arm, albeit less suggestively than Seayeon had done to Sungjin.

Jae jumped out of his skin and snapped to look at her with a look that conveyed why the hell are you bringing me into this? He only wanted to prevent them doing something they would regret and roping him into as an accessory to this blow out would probably be something they regret.

Go with it Ella’s eyes replied back; she was not to be trifled with at a five foot two ball of territorial fury. She pushed closer to him, letting her chest press against his arm like Seayeon had done. Jae ran a blue streak in his head.

She definitely does not need to be pushing her breasts into his arm, Sungjin thought, staring at the point where their two bodies met, the rest of his field of sight fading into obscurity. He didn’t think anything had actually happened between them. Brian would have definitely told him of that development. So why was El giving Jae that kind of attention when she was his girlfriend? He clenched his jaw tighter, fisting his hands.

Seayeon had started to realize maybe El just did know how to play this little game.

Brian was starting to wonder if they had just introduced Ella as Sungjins girlfriend, this progression of bad decisions on everyone’s part could have been prevented.

Just then Wonpil and Junhyeok arrived, the latter looking by far the most amused at the situation. He was probably the most sadistic out of all of them; he liked watching people make big mistakes if only because watching them try to fix them was hilarious.

Wonpil just looked uncomfortable. He didn't like the dark look in Sungjin’s eyes. He knew he'd been hurt enough in relationships; he didn't deserve to watch his girlfriend sidle up to another guy. But he also knew nothing was happening with Jae. He felt for Ella too; she didn’t deserve to watch a stranger throw herself all over Sungjin.

“Oh here, one of you can sit here.” Ella said moving to sit on Jae’s knee ignoring how his bony joint dug into her butt.

Sungjin made a strangled sound.

Ella didn't look over at him, knowing that'd make her feel incredibly guilty. Besides, Seayeon had been the one to start it, and Ella was going to finish it.

She didn't think that she probably could have finished it just by saying that Sungjin was her boyfriend. But he'd been letting Seayeon be all over him. Seeing that had drowned her rationality in a flood of territoriality. The worst part of her wanted to hurt him too, because he'd allowed this to happen, let her get hurt despite saying that he wouldn't hurt her.

But she also knew that people always hurt those they loved. And that what she was doing was probably hurting him...So she didn't look him in the eye. She didn’t need to be confronted with the knowledge that she was doing something stupid, something she’d regret, something that was hurting him.

“Oh thank you,” Junhyeok said taking the spot. Jae exchanged looks with Sungjin, or tried to, tried to tell him that he was not a willing party to this and that Ella was just being a little crazy. Sungjin wouldn't look at him, too busy staring at Ella, so Jae directed his attention to Brian, and he nodded, a silent understanding between them.

It was time to bring this shit show to an end; it wasn't funny anymore.

Ella looked over at Seayeon. I dare you to try sitting on my boyfriend’s lap. But she also noticed Seayeon had longer and sharper nails, so she was hedging her bets.

“Wonpil, you can sit here!” Seayeon said loudly, making sure to flip her hair to surround everyone in that jasmine scent she worked so hard to have, before she moved to sit on Sungjin’s lap.

Wonpil wanted nothing more than the chance to run far away. Watching Sungjin and Ella have this level of a misunderstanding felt like he was watching his own parents have one. He didn’t want to be a witness in any capacity to this.

The second her butt left the seat, Sungjin dived out of the booth.

Seayeon landed hard on the booth and looked put out, which made Ella satisfied for a moment until she saw Sungjin’s big eyed face of fury.

Fuck, she thought. That guilt surged in her with the strength of a tsunami. I’ve really fucked this up. Congratulations idiot.

“Ella, can we go somewhere and talk?” Sungjin said, his voice shaking with his efforts to keep from yelling. His hands were still fisted at his side but he knew something more had to be going on. Ella was rational to a fault; this wasn't like her. In a strange way it was a relief to see her acting on the basis of emotionality rather than rationality but this wasn’t the way he would have prefered that.

“Why do you want to talk to her?” Seayeon protested while El made Junhyeok get out of the booth so she could go with Sungjin. Her fury had been washed away in that tsunami of guilt.

“She’s my girlfriend.” Sungjin snapped, his voice too loud for the cafe. He had come close to screaming that if only to confirm she was still his girlfriend.

“You never mentioned you had a girlfriend.” Seayeon said and Ella gave a raised eyebrow look to Sungjin. He'd practically made her announce to every male in her life that she had a boyfriend but he hadn't told a girl who was all over him that he had a girlfriend. She debated calling him a hypocrite but thought better of it. She'd made mistakes, too, arguably bigger ones. .

“Isn’t that interesting?” Ella said looking at him. His eyes grew and his lip pouted out further than before.

Jae gulped; he’d never seen Sungjin that mad before.

“She doesn’t act like your girlfriend.” Seayeon continued, seemingly oblivious to the scene in front of her, speaking plainly. Brian and Junhyeok looked from Seayeon to Ella, like they were watching a tennis game. Wonpil, standing next to Sungjin, shifted uncomfortably, fearing he was dangerously close to getting dragged into this mess. He was already an unwilling witness.

“Funny,” Sungjin said crossing his arms and looking at Ella. “I was thinking the same thing.” She had finally stood up out of the booth and faced him, several inches shorter and increasingly indignant. She didn’t appreciate him talking to her like a child.

“Can you leave now?” Wonpil asked Seayeon; he just wanted everything to go back to the way it was before, and Seayeon had been the catalyst to the change. It’d be easier to put it all back together if she left and if he could do something to speed that up, that was something he was reluctantly willing to do.

Ella had never seen someone look more affronted than Seayeon did just then. She wanted to give him a high-five but, judging Sungjin’s face, she doubted he’d react well.

“You are so not one to talk.” Ella replied scathingly while Seayeon left. Junhyeok tried to contain a delighted grin while Brian glared him. Junhyeok was the only one getting any amusement out of the situation at that point.

“We’re not talking about this here.” Sungjin said firmly, like a father scolding a child. She raised an eyebrow. That had made her want to lay it out right in the middle of the cafe but thankfully that rational part of her brain was finally strong enough to hold her back.

“Oh yes, but let’s just imagine what it’s like to innocently walk into a cafe to see my boyfriend with a girl I don’t know and her boobs in his face.” She said, managing to keep from yelling but her voice shook, nearly breaking, with the effort.

“I was talking to her about being a trainee!” Sungjin said defensively, his face going red. “Nothing was happening!” Ella rolled her eyes. Wonpil wrung his hands together. Junhyeok and Brian continued watching Sungjin and Ella, entranced by the new set up.

“You might have just been talking, but she was certainly trying to do a lot more than that. We both saw it.” Jae said thrusting himself out of the booth, purposefully standing between them. He felt partially responsible; he’d help get them together and had chosen the cafe and had not mentioned Seayeon to Ella. Then he rounded on Ella. “And do not rope me into your shit, at least not without a warning. I feel covered in drama, literally!” He finished with dramatically wiping off his clothes.

“I didn’t know that’s what she was doing!” Sungjin cried defensively while Ella turned to to Jae, her mouth open to apologize. Thankfully she didn’t; it would have pissed Sungjin off for her to apologize to Jae first.

“Ok kids let’s take this outside.” Brian said standing and working to herd them to the door. He had long stopped being amused by the drama.

“How thick can you get?” Ella said staring at Sungjin while he started out the door, brooding.

“Really? You’re going to call me stupid now?” Sungjin cut back.

“No, oblivious maybe!” Ella snapped.

“Well which is it? Oblivious or stupid?” The worst part of him wanted her to confirm that she knew he was stupid. “I already know I’m not half as intelligent as you are.”

“Oblivious about girls. And you are brilliant! Stop saying you aren’t!” She said hotly. She doubted she ever called someone brilliant that angrily before.By then they were out on the street, the others following at a distance.

Jae was trying to mentally plan a course of action to stop Ella before she said something she’d regret. He figured Brian or Wonpil could cover Sungjin.

“If I’m so oblivious, how did I actually end up with you?” He retorted, his face still a aflame with the evidence of his fury.

“Because Jae is less oblivious about girls.” Ella fired back.

“Don’t get me involved!” Jae yelled.

“You’re already involved!” Both of them yelled back.

“Honestly, how do you think I felt when I walked in and saw a girl all over my boyfriend?” She said in a quieter voice while he continued silently fuming.

He wanted to calm down, be rational, but he could still Ella pushing into Jae suggestively.

“How do you think I felt watching my girlfriend be all over my friend?” He replied hotly. “I think that’s worse. Because I was an unwilling participant to her being all over me, but you were being all over someone else, actively.”

After arguing with her on a few points he knew rationality was an effective weapon; she was used to it being a tool exclusively in her arsenal, if someone used it against her, it tripped her up.

“Fair point, so I didn’t react well. That’s on me but how could you not realize she was about to make out with you in front of me?” Ella said; her voice breaking on the last word.

She couldn’t help it. She’d flashed back to seeing her ex in middle of having sex with another girl. Losing him was no great loss but Sungjin would be.

Everyone stopped.

“I wasn’t trying to be all over Jae, I just sat on his knee and it hurt my butt. I will accept the boobs arm thing as my doing but throughout my life I probably did that to at least a dozen guys, unintentionally. But those are excuses.” She paused, reigning in her desperate need to be right; this wasn’t the time. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you, I was trying to hurt or destroy what’s her face.” She said in a whisper so only Sungjin could hear. “I’m sorry.” She’d managed to look him in the eye for those crucial words but for the first time in months, his were unreadable and she looked away again.

“Nothing more was going to happen with her.” He said, traces of a desperate assertion. She nodded. “I would have gotten the hint if she was going to kiss me.” He added, earning a wan smile, one he could barely see save the slight plumping of one of her cheeks. Their heart rates decreased, slightly. Slowly, the end of this was coming into sight.

“I know, just… The last time I saw my boyfriend with another girl they were having sex...I just...I’m sorry… I know I reacted badly.” She continued, wringing her hands. She didn’t look him in the eye. She knew she was in the wrong and that was something she hated knowing since she so enjoyed being right.

“Why don’t we just go home…” He said glancing at the others over her shoulder. Jae nodded. It was time for the two of them to work it out, without the others; they all knew that. They didn't need to unload their shit into the street anymore than they already had.

She nodded, and turned back to the others. “I'm sorry Jae,” She said patting his arm, betting that Sungjin was in a state to be thrilled if she hugged Jae goodbye. She simply bid goodbye to the rest and went back to Sungjin, still not looking him in the eye. Everyone let out a collective breath.

Now that the fury had long stopped rushing through her veins, the hurt settled into her chest. Even though she knew he wouldn't hurt her, it was still a slap in the face to see another girl all over her boyfriend. Doubly so when he wasn't doing anything to stop her even if he certainly wasn't encouraging the behavior, either.

They walked in silence.

Next to her, Sungjin’s mind was busy, racing with a hundred rationalizations and assurances that nothing was happening with Jae and Ella. He knew there was nothing happening with them. They were just friends. Close friends. Friends that had shared experiences he didn't share with her.

A dark part of him wanted all her parts, her everything, for himself, only him. And he hated that possessiveness.

Finally they got back inside her apartment. He opened his mouth to speak but she stopped him.

“I don't want to talk frankly with you like this...Just give me a minute.” She said moving to her vanity. She stripped off most of her jewelry, leaving her opal studs and a ring. She let her hair out her styled updo, shaking out the kinks. She moved into the bathroom and washed off her makeup before she returned to him.

It felt wrong to be completely honest with him when she was a made up, stylized version of herself rather than just herself. And that time had given her a moment to process and think, let her rational side move back into control and purposefully working to disarm it of its harmful weapons.

“I should have realized what Seayeon was doing. I'm used to trainees asking me for advice, and i just that was happening again...I know I'm oblivious about girls.” He said in a low voice. He didn't say that he also knew he was probably too stupid to be with her.

“Usually it's endearing when you're a bit oblivious, granted, it also drove me crazy when you didn't get the hint until Jae flat out told you that I liked you.” She said with a small smile.

“I'm sorry El, I won't see her again if you want.” He said and she frowned.

“No, I do trust you; maybe not her so much but that jealousy isn’t something that should affect your behavior just like I don’t want yours to affect mine. Besides, you might have to see her for training or something. I was more mad at her for being all over my boyfriend than I was at you for letting it happen. But I think I must have gone into a blind rage of territoriality and hurt you in the process. I know I crossed a line, and I can’t take it back, but I would like to apologize for it. I really am sorry.”

“Yeah if you could not put your boobs in Jae's face anymore, I'd really appreciate it.”

“I did not do that!” She said immediately but Sungjin was smiling.

“Is it too soon to tease you?” He asked and she stared at him, agape.

“Maybe but I really am sorry.”

“I know, sorry to put you in that situation.” He just wanted to have her back in his arms again, to know they were ok, to feel that into her. It was easier to know that when his hands could find her skin and her warmth soaked into him.

“And can we back track? Why do you keep insisting that I'm too smart for you?” She asked him.

It was his turn to start avoiding her gaze.

“That's not it, I just think I'm not smart enough for you.” He mumbled, a flush spreading into his cheeks and neck. He had never wanted to confess his weaknesses to her.

“I don't think that.” She said simply, automatically, without a trace of hesitation. Assuredness laced her voice and he heard it. She had no doubt that Sungjin was smart.

“But there is such a difference! You're in graduate school at twenty years old and teaching people older than you. You read more books than me, several times more, and you have a bigger ratio of books in this space than most libraries. Meanwhile, I struggled in school and didn't even go to college at all. I'm not as articulate or rational. I am sometimes oblivious.” He could have kept going but she stopped him.

“I can do those things and be like that because all I did in school was school work, Korean studies, choir, and reading. I am very book smart because that’s what I’ve spent the majority of my time working on. You’re very musical because that’s what you’ve done. Another perspective it is a bit of pop psychology I don't entirely agree with but it fits for us, so will you let me explain that?” She asked and he nodded.

“Do you think we could…” He gestured to the couch. She nodded and they fell together, sitting on either end of the small sofa cross legged and facing each other.

“So it’s a premise called the right left brain hypothesis or theory, I forget which. Either way, I’m very “left brain smart,” highly analytical, articulate, good with patterns and academics. It relates to language too, because most people believe language is localized in the left hemisphere, right about here…” She reached forward and put her fingers in his hair, right above his left ear. “Studies have shown that its correlated to talking on the phone by putting it on your left ear. Bilingual people tend to have more cross lateralization, with parts of language in both hemispheres but I’m getting off track.”

“And you’re proving my point, I didn’t know half that stuff.” He sighed and she laughed, smiling gently. Her fingers gently ran through his hair as she worked to relax him.

“Most people don’t know that stuff. That’s what I’m studying. It’s analogous to me not knowing any chords on a guitar, I don’t play guitar. You don’t know psychology because you haven’t studied it.” She said stroking his cheek.

“So that’s you. What about me?” He said praying whatever she said next would reassure him and she smiled.

“You are “right brain smart;” the right brain is believed to be associated with creativity, talent, music, emotionality, being able to read people, understanding people, empathy, so creative and emotional intelligence.” She explained.

He didn’t say anything so she continued.

“There’s many types of intelligence, one theorist listed seven or twelve, another two or three, but the conventional understanding, and most cultural definitions of intelligence fit to “book smart” and “street smart.” But street smart isn’t always seen as “intelligence” and I’m being too rational aren’t I?” She said frowning and furrowing her brow.

“No, I understand…” He said slowly, still processing what she was saying. If there were true forms of intelligence and she possessed one and he possessed the other, that wasn’t so bad...

“The reason I know you’re intelligent is because you’re smarter than me in areas I want to be smarter in. Emotions and empathy are hard for me, and to get there, I have to take an almost clinical or rational approach to get there, and that emotional part is functionally missing for me most of the time. It’s almost sociopathic.” She said moving to put her hands in his.

He didn’t say anything so she continued talking. He wasn’t convinced she was a sociopathic robot; she would cry at commercials, about her family and friends, for them even.

“And then there’s music. Listening to you play, or talk about music makes me feel simultaneously proud and inadequate because I don’t have those skills at all and can hardly begin to understand what you’re saying, like you’re speaking a language my brain refuses to understand. And you can understand people on deeper levels than I can, which grates on me because it’s my job to understand people…And I really probably am talking too much. But this relates to reason that I try so hard to articulate how I’m feeling and why I think I’m feeling that way; because I don’t know and struggle to guess what other people are feeling unless I really know them or they tell me. So I try to articulate it to you so you know but half the time you already know because you can sense and perceive it better than I can.”

“Simultaneously proud and inadequate is a pretty good description…” He finally said with a wan smile. He’d had to resist telling everyone that she’d been credited on a published paper because they wouldn’t get it but he’d been so proud.

“I don’t feel you are inadequate. I think you are better than I could hope for. But because I feel inadequate too, I know it’s not an easy feeling and it’s hard to get rid of.” She said with a smile while her fingers traced lines on his hands.

“I just hope you can keep seeing me that way.” He sighed before he looked up and smiled a bit bigger than he had before.

“And I hope you don’t come see me as a hyper rational sociopath.” She said with her own smile. “Amanda said we complement each other well because between my stronger left brain and your stronger right brain, we are two halves of a whole, and together we raise each other up.”

“I like that.” He said slipping his fingers through the ends of her hair.

“Me too, I know I’m better with you in my life.”

“And don’t try to make me jealous again.” He said with a sickened expression.

“I swear.” She said holding up her right hand. He gave her a look. “I really won’t. I hate myself a little for that incredibly immature reaction.”

“And, just double checking, you’re not into Jae?”

“No, he’s really like a brother to me, a really annoying brother.” She said with a grossed out expression.

“I just wanted to check.” He said as he pulled her to him. Feeling her against him further calmed him.

“So is there anything that you feel we have not resolved, or started to resolve, is there something still grating on you?” She asked as she settled into his lap. Her arms wrapped around his neck and nestling her face into his neck.

But as she said those words, guilt and shame ballooned in her chest. If he did feel any of those things, they would be wholly her fault. She had hurt the person she least wanted to hurt. She had fractured their relationship, his trust, in a moment of territoriality and stupidity. Stupid was something she abhorred being.

He had slipped into his own thoughts. He liked that she felt that their different skills together made them better. The praise didn’t hurt, either. And looking back, she hadn’t been sexual or flirty with Jae, just more touchy than usual.

It certainly had been an interesting afternoon.

It didn’t escape his notice that he felt a little bit better after sharing his worries with her; she hadn’t even taken the bait to call him stupid in the middle of the fight.

Then he felt tears drop onto his neck.

“Hey, it’s ok.” He cooed, rubbing her back. She shook her head.

“How can you put up with me when I’m so neurotic, immature and crazy?” She sniffled and held him tighter.

It’d happened before. Her mild anxiety usually made her clingy and needy, especially if she was PMSing or stressed, which of course had to be happening right then. Guys labeled her crazy and dropped her and she was left thinking maybe she really was better on her own, not unloading her problems onto anyone else.

Only she didn’t want to be alone.

“What do you mean?” He asked in a gentle voice.

“I just...am emotional and stressed and I don’t my shit together half as much as I would like to, and I’m needy and a little crazy.” She said and he chuckled.

“Everyone is a little crazy.” He said and she tightened her hold on him.

“I don’t want to lose you.” She whispered so low he barely heard her.

“You won’t.” He said threading his fingers through her hair.

“I’m sorry...I really am.”

“I know.”

“I love you.”

“And part of this is probably my hormones.”

“Ahh, it is the second week of the month, huh?” He said and she laughed.

“Yeah, hopefully the endorphins will calm the emotional roller coaster.” She said as she sat up to give him a wobbly smile. He reached up and brushed away her tears.

“I heard sex can help with period symptoms.” He said unable to keep a smile off his face.

“You might be willing but I am not.” She said with a hollow laugh.

“So hot water bottle? Chocolate? What do you need?” He asked pressing his nose into hers.

“Painkillers, food, and a nap.” She said with a sigh. “And a shower. And you, definitely you.” She said brushing her fingers through his bangs.

“You’ve been working hard, huh?” He asked, pressing a finger into the skin under her eye. She hard darker circles than he’d seen on her before.

“Six weeks and I get a whole week off!” She said trying to be cheerful, but it only lasted so long until she slouched into his chest. “Yeah, I’m beat.”

“Well do you want me to hang around or would you rather be on your own?” He asked and she sighed pausing.

“You wanted to go to the night market, didn’t you?” She said and he smiled, cupping her cheek.

“If you don’t feel up it, we can go next week.” He said and she frowned.

“No, I want to go, just give me a bit to get ready. It won’t hurt to go out.” She said climbing off of him. She figured she’d done enough to frustrate him so she’d be happy to go to the night market since she knew he really wanted to go and it’d make him happy.

“You’re putting your make up back on aren’t you?” He said when she headed for her vanity. He was well aware she was doing it for him.

“Not all of it.” She said, just putting on a BB Cream and concealer for her eyebags and the period breakout on her cheek followed by winged eyeliner. Then she headed to her closet.

“Are you changing too?” He asked as she pulled clothes from the closet.

“What do you say about being one of those couples?” She asked, poking her head out. She knew he had wanted to be more of the couples they often passed with the matching clothes.

“What do you mean?” He asked and she smiled.

“I have a flannel that matches that.” She said pointing to his shirt.

“Now you’ll actually match clothes?” He said and she shrugged. In that moment, she was willing to do a lot to make him happy.

“Weird in the US, expected here.” She said as she took off her top and leaving the skinny jeans, pulling on a white tank top, and the blue flannel, which she left open. After rolling up her sleeve, she put her hair up into a loose bun atop her head and turned back to him.

“So I think this is the most rock and roll I’m ever going to look.” She said striking a pose.

“Very rocker,” He laughed as he emerged from her kitchen with her favorite snack food and the painkillers.

She regretted hurting him again; he was such a good boyfriend. “Thanks,” She said chowing down on the food; she was starving after she hadn’t touched her dinner at the cafe. When she was done, she grabbed a black leather purse, tossing her wallet and phone and keys into it before turning back to him. She figured she could get more food at the market, too. “Ok I’m ready what time is it?” She asked since she didn’t wear a watch.

“Seven, and the one I wanted to go to closes at eleven.”

“Oh good, it won’t be a late night.” She said with a small smile. He studied her face for a moment, measuring how tired and stressed she looked; she wasn’t as bright or energetic as she usually was but her eyes were bright, only slightly red from her tears. And he knew she’d insist on going to make him happy; he was done with battles for the night. Instead he’d just insist they had a early night.

“If you really don’t feel up to it, or would rather just stay home, I totally understand if you want to have a more relaxed night.” He said, measuring her reaction, just to double check.

“I think if we don’t run around or anything, I’ll be fine and I want to sleep in tomorrow.” She added and he chuckled.

“You always kick me out on Sundays, you know.” He said while they walked to the elevator.

“I know but I always have viewed Sundays as my day. I spend it cleaning, getting groceries, doing my laundry and wrapping up all my work for the week so I’m ready for Monday, and I give myself a manicure and do a sheet mask and just...I’m used to spending those days alone doing my stuff.” She said and he nodded.

“I understand but do you think I’m going to get in the way of all that?” She looked at him, leaning over to kiss his cheek.

“You are a bit of a distraction, usually a welcome one.” She said and he shook his head, smiling while his fingers interlocked with hers.

“You definitely know your habits.” He said and she laughed.

“Habits are beautiful things, free up your decision making power, which is finite. Habits allow you to avoid spending it on mundane things so it’s there to be tapped for bigger things.”

“Is there anything you don’t know?”

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

“Where did that come from?” He laughed, a warmth spreading in his chest. It wasn’t in her nature to be misleading, unless she was being manipulative but that was easy to tell. She was usually manipulative to get him to do some kind of physical labor, kill a bug, or reach something. Her preferred strategy was to suddenly get very cutesy.

“It’s true, I really don’t know that.” She said with a smile kissing the back of his hand.

“Neither do I,” He said squeezing her hand in his.

“Next week is our two hundred day anniversary, right?” She asked and he nodded. They moved through the city, toward the market along the river.

“What do you think about couple rings?” He asked and she looked at him with furrowed brows.

“They’re not engagement rings, they’re more to show off you’re in a couple, right?”

“Uh huh, but many of them look like Western engagement rings.”

“I wouldn’t want one like that; if I wear a ring on that finger most people will already think I’m engaged, so if it didn’t look so much like an engagement ring, I’d be able to wear it without having to constantly explain things.”

“Take it you don’t want to be engaged?” He said with a raised brow.

“Not at twenty, not until I’m getting my PhD. Besides, you’re going to debut so I doubt you’ll be allowed to be engaged or married.”

“Fair but if I didn’t...If I don’t debut next year, I think I’m just going to quit and go back to school, complete my service.”

“You’re going to debut.”

“But if I didn’t, we could get married.”

“Would you follow me back to the US?” She asked quietly.

“I’d go to the North Pole to follow you.”

“I think I’d want to marry you, just not anytime soon.”

“So couple rings yay or nay?” He asked as they entered into the market, surrounded by people and the smell of food.

“Sure, but you don’t wear rings.” She said, holding up his hand for proof.

“You do.”

“That’s not my point.”

“I was going to wear mine around my neck. Playing guitar with rings hurts.”

“I know, and that’s fine. Maybe then the female trainees will know you’re taken then.”

“Am I really that oblivious with girls?”

“Sometimes. Not with me anymore though.” She said and he knew she was right. He could read her better than anyone else. He didn’t even want to bother learning how to read anyone else.

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inawickedlittletown · 6 years ago

Text

Walking The Wire (163/167)

Summary: Tony Stark always knew about Peter Parker. He didn’t know that Peter was going to get superpowers and become Spider-Man, but he always knew about Peter because Peter was his son.

This will span from pre-Iron Man up through the rest of the MCU (eventually including Infinity War) and will be for the most part canon compliant except where I’ve taken some liberties and interpreted canon a certain way.

Pairings: Pepper/Tony, Tony/Steve (endgame), Tony/Mary (past)

A/N: If you want me to tag you when I post new chapters let me know. This fic is also on AO3

I used Collider’s MCU timeline to stay canon and the title of this fic is an Imagine Dragons song that is just so fitting for Peter and Tony

@findmeinthestarss

Masterpost

Chapter One Hundred Sixty Two

Peter: Hey, you guys want to hang out tomorrow?

Peter sent the text on the drive back to the tower from filming the video at the Avengers Compound. He’d been talking to Ned and Michelle over text and video calls -- well Ned on the calls, anyway -- but he had yet to see them. He’d wanted to give them some time with their families. MJ’s entire family had been dusted and she’d been staying with Ned ever since. Ned on the other hand had had his mom get dusted.

Peter hadn’t really explained anything to either of them. They would probably see the video that his dad, Steve, and Carol made before Peter got to talk to them, but he could tell that Ned was holding back questions.

Guy in the chair: Yes. yes. Definitely. We have to catch up -- I have so many questions. You can’t just tell me you’ve been to space and--

MJ: Chill, Ned.

MJ: But yeah, I’m free tomorrow. Want to meet up somewhere or…

Peter: You guys mind coming by the tower? I have a lot to tell you. I could send Happy to get you if you need a ride.

He was starting to feel nervous about the whole thing especially since back in the stone he’d had some time to think and he’d thought about Michelle a lot. The kind of a lot like back when he was obsessing over Liz. But he was still a bit conflicted and he was sure that seeing her in person would clear things up for him a little.

MJ: And miss riding the subway? Yeah, send your driver, Stark.

Peter: It’s still Parker, you know.

Guy in the chair: I don’t think Happy really likes me still, but if MJ doesn’t mind then sure.

Peter: Cool. See you both tomorrow, then.

For good measure and before he could forget, Peter sent a text to Happy to make sure that he could actually go and pick up his friends the next day. Getting an affirmative made him grin. He really had missed Ned and MJ.

---

“It couldn’t be this week because it’s all too short notice,” Tony said, “but it’ll be next week which is fine. Gives us some time.”

Steve nodded. He was painting and Tony had finally gotten off the phone with Pepper who was amazing and dealing with everything that Tony was throwing at her because his future husband really had no patience to speak of. Steve had decided that his best course of action was to just let him do whatever he wanted and intervene only when it became truly necessary. So far it was working and it had even worked earlier when they were shooting that video for Fury. It had already gone live on YouTube and then of course all the news stations were airing it too and discussing it in detail.

The whole thing was kind of annoying. Also annoying was how some websites online were taking the whole thing apart. Steve had had to stop looking at the internet and Friday had been more than happy to keep him away.

“And where is it taking place?” Steve asked. K-9 nudged his foot and dropped the tennis ball next to him for him to throw.

Steve didn’t know if it was his imagination or just how long they’d spent away from the robot dog, but he seemed a bit more attached to all of them in a way he hadn’t been before. It was especially apparent with Peter. He picked up the ball and threw it in a direction where there was plenty of clear floor space.

“The compound,” Tony said. “But this is good because everyone’s is sort of already there and there aren’t a lot of people that we need to invite outside of them.”

Steve hummed and he picked up the ball when K-9 brought it back again.

“And I sent the stuff to the adoption agency,” Tony said next and Steve had to look at him then because that was big. They had no guarantee that they would be adopting immediately or even within the next year or two or five or seven or nine, but whenever it became possible it was going to happen. Steve was excited and nervous all at once.

“Did you tell Peter about that yet?” Steve asked.

“He sort of knew before,” Tony said. “Not officially, but as a possibility. I figure we should probably tell him again though. ”

Steve nodded and Tony moved towards him, leaving behind whatever he’d been looking at. He was beautiful this way -- happy and excited and lacking the stress that had followed him before. His hair was a bit messy and as always his hands were a little dirty with the fresh paint that he’d touched and whatever else had gotten on him in the workshop. Most importantly, he was happy. It was a Tony that he hadn’t seen since before he left on that mission and before Tony ended up in space. It was the Tony that he’d been missing for too long and that Steve was glad to have back.

“I love you,” he whispered.

Tony’s hands cupped his face and he stared into his eyes for a drawn out moment until their lips were pressed together, barely moving like a whisper of a kiss that ended slowly. The next one was quicker and pushier and one that stole all his breath away. Tony’s effect on him would always be palpable.

---

Peter had had Ned over to the tower only a handful of times and Michelle only that time when they’d talked about Spider-Man on the roof. He waited for them down in the parking area and Happy just kind of shook his head at him and muttered something that sounded like “teenagers”. Peter had meant to go with Happy, but he’d gotten pulled into some of the wedding planning. Namely guest lists. He’d happily added both Ned and Michelle to the list and his dad hadn’t minded.

“Hey, guys,” Peter said.

“I still don’t think Happy likes me,” Ned said before they did their handshake. Michelle rolled her eyes but then moved to give him a hug too and she sort of ducked her head afterwards. Peter mostly just felt warm and a little nervous, but he shook it off.

“Uh, he’s grumpy sometimes.”

“Ned wouldn’t shut up,” MJ said with a roll of her eyes.

“Anyway, come on,” Peter said.

“You know, this sort of beats that trip we never ended up going on,” Michelle said.

That trip seemed like a lifetime away. Peter had almost entirely forgotten about it. He’d left the bus when they were headed to the tower. From what Karen had told him when he asked, the bus had been stopped and turned around once everything started happening with the aliens going after Strange and the Time Stone.

“Yeah, kinda,” Ned said with a shrug.

The elevator took them up to the penthouse and when it opened, Michelle looked around with some interest. He could sort of tell that she was impressed and yet she was trying to hide it. Michelle really was pretty and Peter often thought that she probably didn’t know it or give attractiveness any real thought.

“So, this is where Tony Stark lives,” she said.

“Did I hear my name?”

Peter sighed. He’d told his dad to stay in the workshop, but he shouldn’t have expected him to listen. Ned despite having met Tony a few times looked a bit startled and surprised. Michelle took it in stride, sticking her hand out first.

“It’s nice to meet you, Peter’s dad,” she said with an eyebrow raised.

His dad chuckled as he shook her hand. “You must be Michelle. No, MJ,” Tony said and then looked towards Peter after he left her hand go. “Hmm, yes, you do know how to pick your friends.”

“Tony, stop bothering Peter and come back here. Caterer needs all of this an hour from now,” Steve called from the kitchen.

Ned was still definitely star struck by Steve and even though Steve was in the kitchen and not visible, his eyes widened. Michelle nudged him and Peter just sort of shrugged.

“He acts like we don’t see him all the time in those PSAs,” MJ said.

“What else do you expect from Ned?” Peter asked. He had yet to extend the invitation to the wedding to them and he wondered just how much Ned would freak out seeing the whole team and more there.

He and MJ shared a smile and that was when K-9 came running with a ball in his mouth.

“Oh my god,” MJ said and took a step behind Peter, one of her hands landing on his forearm.

K-9 stopped in front of Peter and barked once. Ned dropped to the ground at once. “That is a robot dog,” he said with awe and K-9 turned to him.

Peter felt MJ lean around him and her hand relaxed before she let him go entirely. “Oh,” she said.

“You were scared,” Peter said.

MJ shook her head at once. “I was not. I just -- I was startled.” She looked indignant and like she was going to keep on arguing.

“His name is K-9. My dad made him. Anyway, come on, probably better if we go to my room. My dad won’t bother us too much in there.”

K-9 went with them and Peter could tell that Ned was fascinated by the robot dog and Peter’s room was big enough that he could play fetch with him. That kept Ned distracted.

For a while, they just hung out in his room and Peter got to hear about how things had been while he was gone.

“It was chaos,” Ned said. “I’m sure you know.”

“Yeah, I do. Sort of.”

“We saw that video,” Michelle said. She was sat on a beanbag chair that his dad had insisted on getting for him. “Did that all really happen?”

“And more. I was in space,” Peter said and began telling them everything.

Ned interrupted from time to time to ask questions while Michelle kept hitting Ned on the arm to shut him up. At times, Peter thought that she might hit him too for everything that happened, but instead by the end she just threw her arms around him.

“That’s -- oh, my god, Peter. That’s just...I can’t believe that happened,” MJ said into his shoulder and Peter felt warmth wash over him as he held her back. It didn’t last long and MJ was pulling away.

“Did you see anyone from school in there?”

“I did see Flash at one point,” Peter said. “ I wasn’t really looking. But anyway, everything turned out alright in the end.”

MJ nodded. “I’m glad it did.”

They stayed a while longer and as expected, his dad did interrupt to ask him questions about the preference for one thing or another with the wedding. MJ seemed to find it funny, but Ned was still a bit intimidated and he looked like he was going to pass out when Steve appeared.

“Not a wedding question,” he said, “but I’m making food. Are your friends staying?”

Peter looked to Ned who couldn’t answer and MJ who just shrugged her shoulders.

“I think that’s a yes,” Peter said.

“Is he alright?” Steve asked, looking towards Ned.

Peter rolled his eyes. “He will be. He’s just a big fan.”

“Oh,” Steve said, and extended a hand out to MJ. “We haven’t met yet. I’m Steve.”

“MJ,” MJ said.

Steve nodded. He looked to Peter once before he left the room and Peter hoped he wasn’t blushing, but either way, MJ was distracted with pinching Ned.

“He’s just a person, Ned. Come on,” she said.

Peter was happy to see Ned relax when they sat down to eat with his dad and Steve. Steve had a way of calming people and his dad seemed to be trying to not scare his friends, but even then MJ wasn’t holding back from questioning him and not letting him laugh things off. Peter could tell that she was impressing him.

When it was time for them to go, it was his dad that invited them to the wedding and they both agreed to be there. Ned a bit shaky but doing a bit better than before.

Peter went with them down to where Happy was waiting with the car.

“I like them,” MJ said, “your parents. You’re a lot like them, you know.”

The way she smiled at him and how her fingers touched her hair made him nervous and excited and it was a strange feeling in his gut and Peter knew that he definitely for sure had a crush on her.

---

Tony spent the next few days running around and finalizing everything because apparently weddings took effort especially rushed ones. He’d even spent a good portion of time sitting in Pepper’s office convincing her that she had to be the one to officiate the whole thing when he and Steve realized last minute that they didn’t have anyone to marry them.

“Why don’t you ask Bruce? He’d be good. Or better yet Thor?” Pepper had asked.

“What and stress Bruce out until we have a Hulk in the middle of my wedding. And I don’t think we want to give Thor that kind of power. Natasha is kinda scary, you have to admit and Scott would make a giant joke of it and then the rest of them are aliens and I doubt that Fury would agree to do it.”

Pepper rolled her eyes. “Rhodey, then.”

“He’s the best man.”

“I thought that was Peter,” Pepper said. “Shouldn’t it be Peter?”

Tony shook his head. “Peter has the honor or giving me away. He didn’t want to be the flower girl.”

“Because he’s a boy,” Pepper said.

“And because he wanted to let Rhodey be the best man. Also, he’s underage so he can’t officiate,” Tony said.

He wore her down eventually, especially after he had Steve ask her. His next step would have been to have Peter ask. As it was, it wasn’t until Tony told her that if she didn’t do it then the talking racoon and Groot would that she relented and Tony was glad because he wanted to give her an important role in the wedding and for her to marry them felt perfect. Poetic in some way that Tony couldn’t necessarily distinguish.

Chapter One Hundred Sixty Four

#peter and tony #peter and tony fic #mcuwriting #mcu fic #iron dad #iron dad and spider son #stony #stony fic #marvel

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ecotone99 · 5 years ago

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[NF] The Kila Track Meet

The Kila Track Meet

A true story. Names have been changed for identity purposes

It was one of my favorite days of the year, which was saying something considering the litany of activities my school provided us.

There were, of course, about a dozen field trips a year, ranging from museums to overnight stays deep in the wilderness. Notably we had the Elizabethan festival, a hilariously overproduced set of plays my school put on every year that were almost always Shakespeare plays, with one year The Sound of Music making its debut (I, unsurprisingly, was cast as a Nazi general). Looking back, it was a hilarious concept to try and herd 30 elementary school kids onto a stage, yet alone try to get them to say their lines with any sort of idea what they were saying.

There was even a track and field-esque day at my school, an event we called the Montessori Olympics. At the Montessori Olympics, the oldest class, the vaunted Sixth Graders, would split up into four nations, and those nations would then draft students onto their teams in a schoolyard pick style (it was at a school, after all). One of the most dramatic days of the year would always be when the draft order got “leaked” (meaning Kelvin Tate told everyone), and seeing hurt feelings fly like doves.

But even the Montessori Olympics pales in comparison to the Kila Track Meet, the most heralded spectacle of them all.

Montessori, being a tiny, progressive, private elementary school, didn’t have a lot of schools it interacted with regularly. I suspect the other schools hated us for our success and constant theatrical productions, and therefore refused to mingle their children with ours. Whatever the slight may have been, it resulted in an isolation that left us Montessorians to our small group.

Except at the Kila Track Meet.

The Kila Track Meet was an annual event put on by Kila Elementary School, a small, farm-based subset of our town that is indistinguishable from a 1930’s ranching town. They didn’t have a lot of students, but being on the outskirts of podunk Kalispell, they had a massive amount of space to house 400 screaming kids once a year.

Now the Kila Track Meet was essentially a gathering of all the schools in our district that were too small/poor to hold their own field day. The vast majority of these schools were remote farm schools, with farm kids enrolled. Like North Dakota State offensive linemen and Brock Lesnar would show you, farm strong is a real thing. A lot of these kids, even as early as the fourth grade, already had to start contributing to the family operations, and were generally ripped compared to your average fifth grade dweeb.

One would think the school that puts on an annual Shakespeare festival, has teachers that walk around in sandals, and students that sit in a big circle to talk about their feelings daily would be the underdog at an event like this, but Montessori was always well represented. The secret, I suspect, being the stretching and running routine the school had adopted since its foundation, with every morning starting with a series of Japanese like stretches and ending with a 1/3 mile around a track. (Kids could run more if they wanted, essentially putting off classwork and school time. One kid ran for like two hours straight. It really was a nuthouse).

It wasn’t much, but it guaranteed a baseline athleticism for every Montessori student, and I believe this was for the sole purpose of competing at Kila every year. Yes the health benefits were numerous, but our Soviet-era strength and conditioning program churned our champion after champion in the field events.

Going into the meet in my sixth grade year, I knew I was relishing perhaps my final showing as a track athlete. My personal history at the Kila meet was checkered, with some strong showings in certain categories and pedestrian showings in others. First up on the day: the Softball Throw.

As a baseball player since I was a toddler, I was usually pretty successful at the Softball Throw, one of the higher-prestige competitions. This one was usually less about brute strength and more about form, and my experience of hurling balls back into the infield after they had sailed over my head in baseball games was appreciated, as I routinely “medaled” in the event.

(Side note: first place was awarded a blue ribbon, second a white, and third red ribbon. Everyone also got a purple participation ribbon, which by itself was the mark of a true loser).

This time, in my final year at the meet, I was already planning on where to put my third place ribbon. My friends Sam and Kelvin, two pretty great collegiate athletes down the line, had launched their softballs into unaissable distances. Sam, a high school state champion Quarterback and Kelvin, a Big-10 tennis phenom, both had rockets for an arm (or as close as you can get to a rocket for a sixth grader), and were a good twenty feet past the next closest.

I sauntered up, grabbed the softball, did my best crow-hop and rifled it down the field. It wasn’t close to Sam and Kelvin’s, but it was good enough for third place out of the fifty-ish competitors. Good enough for me, and a 1-2-3 Montessori finish is the best result we can ask for anyways. I think I’ll put this one on my shorts leg.

And then, a tall, muscle-adorned kid stepped up to the line. Jesus, I thought he was one of the supervisors. He was wearing a cut-off tee to reveal his bulging biceps. What sixth-grader has arms like these? His arms seemed to glisten, as if he had oiled them up before he ripped off the sleeves, showcasing his arms to the world.

Before I even had time to gulp in nervousness, the boy bombed the softball down the field, past my ball, past Sam’s ball, past Kelvin’s ball, and past the electricity box that was twenty feet beyond any ball. My jaw, like every other one of my peers, was on the floor. I didn’t even think Randy Johnson could throw that far. The judge went through the pathetic motions of trying to determine a winner, like we didn’t all know the result. When he came back, he told us what we had already known. Josh Becker had won, and had arrived on the scene like a meteor arriving to earth.

The next event was the high jump, although not of the Fosbury flop variety. This, much like any vertical leap measurement, was conducted by measuring the athlete at the top of his reach, and then having a judge spot and point on the board how high the athlete jumped. This job was routinely done by old women on the school board at Kila, which led to some often-questionable decisions

However this year, Stevie Wonder could’ve had the judging position and it wouldn’t have made a difference. Even he could see that Josh Becker out-jumped every other kid by at least a foot. I sucked at this event, so I was nonplussed at getting demolished here, but I do remember thinking that Josh, a sixth-grade boy, still a child, could easily dunk.

Naturally following the high jump was the long jump, which, almost paradoxically opposed to my skill in the high jump, I was excellent at. A good chunk of all of my ribbons in my Kila career had come at the long jump. I attribute my success to an early misunderstanding from my father’s advice, who told me to “land forward”. I took this to mean launch yourself forward without respect for your landing, so long as you tumbled forward. My technique of jumping face first and sort of somersaulting/crash-landing had proven to yield results.

The event, which was probably the closest to resembling the actual event it was named after, featured a grass runway that lead into a large sand pit, which would soon be teeming with children. On a couple of occasions, spectators had wandered into the line of fire to be clotheslined by a flying schoolchild.

Though in marvel of Josh’s supersonic performance in the first two events, I was still relatively confident going into the long jump. The first few competitors didn’t have any jumps that looked threatening, so I was ready to perform.

I got a good run going, arms flailing behind, and launched magnificently into the sun before falling out of the sky and into the sharp sand. I could tell it was a good jump, and was ready to..

“Scratch”.

I couldn’t believe it.

I had (so far) been able to stomach Josh Becker trouncing me. I could deal with being an inferior athlete, this was something I dealt with all the time. I could not take being screwed out of success by some judge, or even worse myself.

I tried my best to force a smile, but inside I was beginning to crumble. There was only one attempt left, if I scratched again, my day would be ruined. Could I even count on my automatic three-legged ribbon at the end of the day at this rate? What an embarrassment I would be if I didn’t get a real ribbon on what could be the end of my athletic peak?

I worked my way back to the end of the line, shoulders slumped. If I had a tail, it would’ve been between my legs. Before I could even take flight for my second attempt, I was in my own head. And anyone whose ever watched sports knew what was going to happen next.

“Scratch”

Bedlam.

The thin veil of composure I had on evaporated, replaced by hot, angry tears. This time it wasn’t even close, with my shoe print visible well into the sand pit. There were still competitors who needed to jump, but i was already tornadoing out of sight. A double scratch, are you kidding me. I left the group, needing a few minutes to myself to cry and curse (some things never change).

After my tantrum, another blue-ribbon ceremony for Becker, and some quick lunch (a ham sandwich in a ziplock bag that someone stepped on), the final four events were primed for action. Like any good track and field meet, the day would be capped off via sprints, a team relay, the mile run, and of course the three-legged race.

The sprint, or the dash, was by far the quickest of all the events, but it was also the most dangerous. The thirty or so competitors would all line up in a field, cramped in as tight as they can so that everyone had a spot on the starting line. By the sixth grade, nobody was putting their hand in the dirt to get a good jump off the blocks. Rather, your hands needed to be alive and alert, ready to yank down your neighbor or to fend off an incoming tackle.

There were no false starts, there were no penalties, and there were no rules. Or at least, they existed, but were hilariously not enforced. As soon as the whistle would sound, about a third of the sprinters would fall, crumpling from tangled feet or a well-placed shove.

The other thing that made the sprint so dangerous compared to the other events was the field itself. There was a large dip in the middle of field, right in the path of the sprinters needing to finish. So for the lucky few that made it out of the starting gates, an unexpected drop in the field is the next problem to deal with. If you’re not aware of it, and hit the dip going full speed (and going full speed is the entire point of the sprint), there’s a very good chance that your knee will buckle, your ankle will roll, or worse. Watching this event, one would think a team of snipers was employed to take out half the remaining children when they crossed a certain point in the race.

This year, my final in the hell sprint, I had already punted. I was fast, but I wasn’t as fast as Sam or Kelvin, and it was clear this looked like another event that Becker would waltz away a champion. Adding on to this the fact that I double scratched, and someone stepped on my sandwich, I was in no place to mount a serious effort.

When the whistle blew, I went through the motions of fighting off my neighbors and running up to the dip. I took my time, made sure not to blow my knee out, and finished well in the middle of the pack. There was only one or two teachers rushing in to provide medical attention as well, so it was overall one of the cleaner sprints that Kila had ran.

Next up was the relay, and it was becoming apparent to everyone that this event was the Josh Becker show. This was a Jesse Owens-like performance, with kids and parents alike now following around the sixth graders, hoping to see the athletic marvel in action. It was starting to look like a clean sweep, with Josh having won all 5 of the previous events. It looked that the relay, an event where he only controlled 25% of the outcome, was going to be everyone’s best shot to get a blue ribbon today.

Lucky for us, the Montessori elite athletes, Josh came from one of the smallest farm schools in the area, and the three classmates they scraped up to run with Josh were definitely not up to snuff. One was even wearing glasses, and everyone knew back then that wearing glasses and being an athlete were mutually exclusive.

Our team also had a distinct advantage, because we were the only team to ever practice the relay handoff. It seems like a small detail, and one that seems tough to mess up, but the practice was invaluable. You wouldn’t believe how many elementary school kids mess up the handoff in a relay race (or maybe you would believe that). A clean handoff was almost like a guaranteed ten second boost, considering that every other team would accidentally kick the baton at least once.

I, running second, was really only concerned with Karl, our lead runner. Unlike Kelvin, Sam, and myself, Karl was not a willing participant in the sports program. He would much rather spend his time playing the recorder, or writing stories (or doing acid, in his later years). But, our school was also quite small, and Karl the boy artist was forced to run lead off.

He was slow out the gate, but this was to be expected. I was just mostly relieved he kept his feet in front of eachother instead of tangled between themselves, as they often did with Karl in charge of them. We made the handoff clean, and I took off, having to make up the ground Michelangelo had lost us.

Fortunately, the group of second runners in the relay was even slower than the first (not a great sign for me that this was where I was racing, looking back at it). I gained quickly, and another clean handoff between me and Sam all but assured victory, seeing as the racer from Josh’s school was currently on the ground, trying to grab a baton that rolled away from him.

At last, I had a ribbon to wear that wasn’t the god forsaken participation ribbon. Even if I only made up a quarter of the win, it was a win nonetheless, and my mood had brightened considerably. So much so, that I was looking forward to the mile race, something I deeply dreaded back in civilian life.

I had never been a good distance runner, at least not compared to my classmates. Like I said earlier, the mandatory daily runs at school has helped with a base level of athleticism and conditioning, but it also allowed me to see just how fast some of my classmates were. I would always lose in running to Kelvin and Sam, sure. But it was also the rare fifth or fourth grader who would trounce me, and if I couldn’t outrun kids who didn’t even know what boobs looked like, I had little shot at Kila.

Knowing my limitations, expecting a dominant Becker performance, and feeling high from the relay race, I went in with a clear plan in mind. I knew I wasn’t going to win, and that I didn’t really have a shot to even compete. I, instead, was going to sprint out early and at least feel what it was like to be leading the race. It was the opposite of the advice I had been given by my teachers and my parents, but damnit I wanted to feel that glory, to ride that same high as winning the relay.

The race started, a much more safer and spread-out beginning compared to the sprint, but you wouldn’t have known it by looking at me. I took off like I was being chased by a bear. I immediately was in the lead, with every other competitor clearly having some sort of plan in place. Not me, I thought, as I continued to push my body into its top gear, sprinting away from the pack into a considerable lead.

Now, this is the point where everything started to change. I looked back over my shoulder, with the pack far behind. I’m winning. This was my goal, but actually being in first place was a jarring thought. I wanted to be in first for a little bit, knowing I would lose anyways, but actually being here was blowing my mind up.

I thought about taking my foot off the gas and trying to save something for the finish, but I knew as soon as I started to slow down there would be no way to speed it back up again. I continued at my torrid pace, now just desperately hoping I could build up a big enough lead before I crashed. One of my teachers later told me that they were sure I was confused about which race we were running.

I was halfway done with the race, with my considerable lead still intact, when a younger boy, probably a fourth grader, came running up to me from the field. This was not uncommon, as the younger kids would typically run around the track as the older kids did, trying to keep up and steal attention somehow. However this boy had a look of determination, and was holding in his outstretched hand a bottle of water.

“Here!”, he said, trying his best to hand me the bottle before I outran him too. Instinctively, I grabbed it, only now realizing my throat felt like it was on fire. Inexplicably, and still in the middle of a dead sprint, I brought the water bottle up to my mouth and tried to drink as much as I could.

While still running.

I immediately began coughing, any water I tried to drink spilling all over myself. I couldn’t catch my breath, as a good amount of water was trapped in my esophaguses. Still running, I wretched, blowing snot out my nose and water everywhere. My throat was still on fire, but now I was out of breath and doused in spit and Dasani.

The whole debacle had cost me a good portion of my lead, but it hadn’t evaporated completely. I, as best as I could, regained my breath and composure and continued on, digging deep to maintain my rapid pace.

As I rounded the final corner, heading down into the final stretch, I’m sure I was a sight to see. At this point, my energy was nearly out, with the second-effort of sprinting leaving me running on E. My mouth was wide open, desperately heaving for any air I could get. My legs, as much as I wanted them to keep firing like pistons, were cement blocks. I was seriously regretting my entire approach to this mile race.

Simultaneously, the finish line was coming into view right as I could hear footsteps thumping behind me. I didn’t exactly know who was behind me, but based off all the evidence from earlier in the day, I had a pretty good idea. My lungs were screaming, my legs were dead, and I looked like I had just projectile vomited, but I wasn’t going to let Josh beat me. Not when I worked this hard, and this stupidly, on getting the lead.

Some might call it a miracle, but I had just enough of a lead, and just enough left in the tank, to win the race, only mere steps ahead of Becker. I might’ve been going at a snail’s pace when I crossed the line, but I crossed it first.

I wanted badly to throw my arms in the air, to celebrate like an Olympic champion, but every gram of strength I possessed had gone into crossing the finish line, and my body was not prepared for a life after this race. Josh patted me on the back and congratulated me, but I was so far out of breath that I couldn’t even look up, let alone be a gracious winner.

I could do nothing but put my hands on my knees and pant. Still recovering from the mid-race drowning I nearly inflicted on myself, I was coughing like a lifelong smoker. Saliva was building in my mouth, mucus gathering in my throat. I spit, an honest reaction. Unfortunately..

I spit directly onto the judge’s shoe, the judge who had only just appeared to hand me my blue ribbon. Or, more accurately, I spit into the judge’s shoe, seeing as she was wearing open-toed sandals. Or, even more accurate yet, I spit directly onto this woman's toes. It was a gross, mucus-filled discharge that was the result of pushing my body to the absolute limits, and it was now swimming around on this lady’s bare foot.

With my blue ribbon still in her hand, the judge screamed like her leg had been ripped off by a landmine. To this day, I’ve never heard someone yell so loudly and so painfully as this woman who had just been spit on. You would’ve thought someone told her that her child had died at war, she was so distraught.

Realizing what I had done, I suddenly found my second wind. I ran off. I didn’t have a direction or a plan per se, but anything would do just to get away from my crime scene. The woman’s wailing continued as I ran, reminding me of my cowardice and leaving me to wonder just how dangerous my spit was if it was injuring this woman so badly.

I didn’t make it far to whatever destination I was planning on making my new life, as one of my teachers, David, plucked me out of a group of students like a stuffed animal in a claw game.

“We’re going to clean this, right now”, with“this” referring to the woman’s foot. He led me back with the same energy of a mother pulling her child by the ear.

The judge was waiting for me, having traded her murder-screams for an expression of homicide in my direction. David pushed a cup of water in my hand, and nodded to the woman, as if to say “well, let’s get going here”.

I swallowed my pride, and walked over to her. I also swallowed the spit in my mouth, making sure to keep all my bodily fluids to myself this time. Without ever making eye contact (I would have probably died on the spot), I flushed the spit out of her shoe with the water cup, once complaining that I needed more water only to have another cup silently shoved into my grip. I finished the job, gagging just twice, and sheepishly apologized to the judge’s feet. I received no response, and worse yet I received no ribbon, as the mad hysteria caused by my spit made us both forget that I was it’s rightful owner.

The three-legged race was an anticlimactic affair, with me and Kelvin, complete with our weeks of practice, dominating the rest of the field. There were only a couple of other pairs that even finished, with the majority of the teams having crashed as soon as the race began. It was my sixth straight year of winning the three-legged race, the most prestigious of all track events, but I couldn’t even enjoy the celebration.

Despite the fact that I was a champion, and had technically won the last three events of the day, my legacy was now forever marred by “spitgate”. The pinnacle of my athletic achievement, the peak of my competitive powers, had been erased within seconds, replaced with shame and dishonor. Not only had I lost my ribbon, but my reputation too.

Instead of being known as the boy who won, I became known as the boy who spit.

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northpolenotes · 6 years ago

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Bonding Activities for Kids and Aunts

Need to break the ice after a long time apart? Try these fun activities to bond with kids!

This post contains affiliate links. Please read our Disclaimer for more information.

An important part of any child’s upbringing is to have outside influences to help shape their little minds. But bonding and playing with children doesn’t always come to so easy to people.

Maybe you live far away and don’t see the kids regularly. Or maybe children are like aliens to you. They’re “interesting” but you’re scared of them at the same time.

If you find yourself in either one of the scenarios on a regular basis, you can form a strong bond with kids, but it might take a little time. Every kid is different and it could take anywhere from a few minutes, to hours, or even days for them to warm up to you. The most important thing for you to do is to stay consistent and keep trying different things.

Here are some activities to try when trying to form that initial bond with children.

It’s always a good idea buy something for them and bring it with you when you haven’t seen them in a long time. A small gesture goes a long way with kids.

1. Complete a Puzzle.

Kids love to put puzzles together. Sit down with them in their play area is a great way Aunts can bond with kids. It’s a good way to start the introductory process because you can ask simple questions like “Where you do think this piece goes?” or “Do you like this picture?”

Asking simple little questions to kids lets them know that you’re interested in them and gives them a reason to speak to you. Don’t get upset if they don’t answer you right away, sometimes it takes a few questions before you find the one they’ll respond to.

For younger kids OMGOD Kids Puzzles make gender neutral wooden puzzles. I love wooden puzzles because they last longer and are more sturdy for kids. Having a variety of a few puzzles is better because it means more time spent together.

For older children, stick to a puzzle that’s around 48 pieces. It’s not too easy that they’ll be done with it in 5 minutes. It’s also not too hard so they won’t get frustrated and walk away within 5 minutes. It’s just right.

Check them out on Amazon:

OMGOD Kids Puzzles

Solar Puzzle

Rainbow Horse

2. Play a Game.

Whether it’s a board game, card game, or video game, kids are gonna want to play!

Card games like go-fish, old maid, and war are pretty easy for kids to play. If you have a standard deck of cards in the house, try breaking them out and playing with them.

If they don’t know how to play, it’s a excuse for them to get you know better – cause you an teach them! The more time you spent together, the more time you have to bond together. Playing games together is a great way for Aunts to bond with kids.

For additional card games for kids, check out this post, 6 Kid Friendly Card Games.

Here are my favorite board games to play with kids:

Check them out on Amazon:

Hedbanz

Sorry!

Perfection

3. Make a Craft

Crafting is just another excuse for kids to make a mess. Therefore, they love it!

There’s always time in the day to make a project together. I suggest doing your own and allowing them to explore their creativity by doing theirs.

When you sit and work on a project side by side a bond forms because you’re on the same playing field. The kids will get interested in what their Aunts are creating, and you can compliment their works of art. Crafting a is great way for Aunts to bond with kids.

Here are some craft projects I’ve done with my nieces and nephews:

Check them out on Amazon:

Rock Painting Kit

Window Art Kit

Busy Box

4. Bake Together

Kids love to “bake.” If you have a favorite recipe, make it with them! It’s really up to the adult to take the reins on measuring, but kids love to dump ingredients into a bowl. They make great helpers that way.

It doesn’t mater if you’re not a real baker at heart. Anyone can grab a box of Rice Krispies and follow the instructions on the back to make Rice Krispie treats. Or even grab instant pudding or jello and plop that into a bowl. The kids can do the mixing part.

The idea is that you have something to do together and nearly all kids love their sweets. It’s a win win situation. Food brings people together, so it’s a great way Aunts can bond with kids.

5. Play a sport

Sports in nearly all forms is a great way for Aunts to bond with kids. Whether you’re throwing a ball around, or shooting hoops together, you’ll be working on the same goal together. The fact that you’re participating in a physical activity together will bring you closer.

In our family, we were always doing something active, so it’s second nature for my nieces and nephews to play a sport with me. It gives me a chance to teach them about form and encourage them to try new things.

I taught sports to children for many years. Here are some of activities that I found worked the best for engaging with kids and keeping their attention.

Check them out on Amazon:

Self Stick Paddles and Balls

Squish Football

Indoor/Outdoor Tennis

6. Read To Them

Reading never gets old. It doesn’t matter how old your niece or nephew is, they need to hear someone speaking to them. Hearing others talk is how they’ll learn to talk and improve their vocabulary. Reading together is a great way for Aunts and kids to bond.

Children’s books don’t take up much space. And you might not always have time to head to the library. Buying a few will not only encourage them to eventually read on their own, but there are also a number of other bonding benefits.

Here’s a list of books that have always been a big hit with younger children.

Check them out on Amazon:

Your Aunt Loves You

Chicka Chicka ABC

Rhyming Dust Bunnies

Here Comes the Big Mean Dust Bunny

Don’t The Pigeon Drive the Bus!

Goodnight Moon

7. Play Make Believe Together.

Children’s minds are limitless, open, and creative. Think about Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny – completely believable and fascinating to a child.

They also learn the best through play and when their imaginations are activated. If you think about any children’s book or shows, life lessons, morals, and good behavior tactics are always presented through a story because that’s what holds their attention.

I’ve noticed that a lot of kids need help to start imagination play, so adults might need to play director and/or storyteller in the beginning.

Most kids have a treasure chest of costumes and accessories, but you might want to add a few items to their collection:

Check them out on Amazon:

Dress up props

If you enjoyed this post you might also like:

10 Reasons Why Having An Aunt Is So Important In Your Life

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ironzombes · 7 years ago

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Prairie dogs 4.

Niamh stood, under the burning hot sky, in the middle of a construction site. There was some talk around town about a delegation, so the workers pulled back and let the land rest for a bit. That was precisely why the younger ones decided to take over what was rightfully theirs with a friendly game of Hopt Loops.

The playing area was either as small as a tennis court or twice as big, the rules were muddy when it was played amongst friends. They played in the dirt, it was all battered and straight and it made tackling easier and so much more enjoyable when you knew your opponent wasn’t going to land on the lush green grass.

He had a bat in his hand, and he eyed his buddies with a wicked grin as he swung it around. There was also a circle around his feet, around the size of a hoola hoop. He watched as everyone got ready and picked teams. On the other side of the court they had a collection of balls waiting for them, already covered in dust. Most looked old, one of them was brand new and still shiny. One of the girls, Shela, picked it up and gave it a few squeezes. It was close in size to a handball ball so it fit perfectly in her hands.

There L shaped posts too, all of them different sizes and the taller boys stood in line so they could measure them up compared to their heights. They should have picked Niamh to stand next to them but he wasn’t playing in their positions so it really didn’t matter to him. The point was to pick four of insanely different heights. Before all of this Niamh had help dig out small holes where they’d be temporarily planted.

Simple. There were six people in total. Niamh would play Center or more commonly known as Bully. Someone else would play Outer which had too many nicknames to list but they ranged from Idiot to Fool to Sandwich Person (where that last came from nobody remembered, but it was still fun to say). The other four would pick four corners to stand in next to the respective poles. For that particular game they made it so one L reached around their knees, the other around their chests, one above their heads and one much, much longer one about twice as tall as Niamh (they had made that one by tying together two old broomsticks).

There were many, many aims to the game and one could say they also played in teams of some sort. First, each player in the corner was meant to throw a ball towards any other player in the field except for the Bully. They could throw them diagonally over him, if they wanted to, but it was best not to let him intercept any because it was the Bully’s job to hit the balls back with his bat in order to hit them back. The purpose of the L shaped oles was for them to try and throw the balls under them without hitting the ground. All of that didn’t sound too difficult if it weren’t for the fact that the corner players were encouraged to tackle each other out of their positions in order to get the better spots. There were also benefits to each position. If one wanted to make sure others didn’t score points (by hitting the ground with the balls) then one had to pick the lower pole to stand next to.

And then there was the Sandwich Person who would occasionally take orders or favors. They had an extra ball they could throw anywhere in the game just to make things confusing, unless anyone had something good to offer up.

“C’mon! Y’all gon’ play?” Niamh pointed at Mihekal, Skrit, Shela and the other two, his eyes daring. It wasn’t often he was allowed to play center, mainly because everyone was afraid of his hits.

“Hush or I’m taking that bat right off of ya!” Shela teased right back and kicked up some of the dust.

“Come right on and get it.” he winked at her.

She made a face while the boys whistled. Idiots. She’d show them!

Frerik was chosen as Sandwich man, which meant Skrit, Shela, Mihekal and Prins all go to play the corners. They each stood in their respective positions and held their balls close to their chests, teasing and howling like a bunch of hooligans.

Three, two, one, go…

Balls were flying everywhere. There was cursing, there was a lot of trial and error at first. Both Frerik and Niamh let the others play peacefully for the first few throws as they tried to gauge how far and fast they had to throw, but after a few minutes of warmup, all hell broke loose.

Skrit was the first to make a run for it. He wanted to get to Shela’s spot because since he had the tallest pole everyone threw towards him way more often than he got to throw. It wasn’t scoring him any points, so he threw one last time before going for a run. The girl saw him coming last moment and leaped forward, causing her diagonal throw to go lower than expected. Niamh took the opportunity and swung his bat hard. The recoil hit his friend Mihekal in the stomach and he held himself for one second too long, causing him to mi another ball thrown by Frerik right on top of his head.

Prins laughed out loud. “Frerik, I’ll get you one of my momma’s apple pies after this if you hit Mihe again!”

“I’ll give you a store credit if you hit Prins!” Mihe countered.

“Your momma’s apple pies are weird, man!” Frerik didn’t like the offer, it was beneath him. So he chuckled his ball towards Prins while he was busy trying to catch another from Shela.

Defeated by the fact that he hadn’t tackled her, Skrit returned to his spot. He threw a ball almost at random, but Niamh caught it without stepping outside of his circle, so he flung his bat but sadly missed his friend.

Mihe saw an opportunity there. He ran out after the stray ball but really, he was just using the momentum and the fact that nobody else was paying attention to him to get to the spot he wanted. His best games were when he got to throw as many of them as fast as possible, so he went for Skrit’s advantageous position.

The boys fell to the ground to the delight of everyone else, and Niamh didn’t let them miss a beat. He swung his bat again, throwing a powerful ball on Prins’ shoulder. The boy frowned and shook his head, but held his tongue and continued the game.

It was a mess of sweat, dust and laughter. The sun was pushing hard on them but it was rare for the group to come together in a trespassing adventure, so they took advantage of it and played. Niamh especially enjoyed watching the fear in everyone’s eyes whenever they missed a throw, and it wasn’t because he was evil but he almost never got to play center and this was his chance at revenge.

Close to thirty minutes in they were already panting and trying to shake off bruises. Mihekal and Shela both ripped their jeans, showing off dusty scratches on their knees. Prins was the only one that survived the longest without any bad hits, but everyone knew the reason behind it. Nobody really wanted to bring it up, and they really didn’t care as long as everyone was having fun.

They swore and shouted, acting as if the property was theirs. The construction site was deep, they were in what they guessed was going to be a basement of some facility. Whenever Niamh’s hits flew off to one machinery or the other they cheered him on. There was some alcohol involved, of course, but just enough for a light buzz so the adults in town wouldn’t be complaining too hard.

A group of men approached the perimeter. Two out of the five hurried up ahead and looked down into the massive hole in the ground, paling at the sight of the teenagers playing.

“What in the… who are you? Get away from there!” one short, fat man shouted at them, already breaking into a sweat. “Go and get them!” he shoved the one closest to him and turned around, looking all meek.

Niamh and the gang looked up at the display, laughing as hard as ever. It was never fun to trespass without being caught. And it didn’t look like the group was going to jump down to get them either. If they wanted to catch them they needed to go the long way around.

“Give me them balls.” Niamh snickered.

“You’re in big trouble!” the man shouted down again, then turned around. Three other individuals showed up behind him.

“Oh shit!” Skrit laughed again, but tugged on Niamh’s shirt. “We should go, they look important!”

“Them balls, gimme!” Niamh wasn’t going to back off. One of the men started running around trying to get to the dirt ramp to climb down.

Drunk and happy with their game, the teens brought Niamh their balls, cheering him on. Mihekal took a few steps in front of him and positioned himself for a good throw.

“Don’t you dare! We’ll get your names, you’ll be in big trouble!” the rotund man shouted again, then turned around at the other three to apologise profusely. They simply watched on, both embarrassed and unphased by the incident. Kids…

Mihekal threw the ball and Niamh caught the perfect angle in one powerful swoop. The group watched the shot in all its glory, nearly falling to their knees in pure ecstasy over how cool they were or how brave or how they had stuck it to the big man. Nobody really cared that one of the man from behind stepped forward to stop the blla, none of the kids cared how he did it. A second later they were running away, leaving one ball behind as well as all the poles- ot to good, new ball though. God forbid.

The group made it up the ramp and managed to escape the clutches of the one that had run all the way towards them. He cursed, they cursed right back and the chase continued. They came into the woods where they were shielded by the sun and split up. As far as they could tell they only had one chaser anyway and they could have stopped at any time but the adrenaline was something they thrived on.

Skrit, Shela and Niamh split off towards the hills, where the terrain was rockier and unsteady, but they helped each other up over thick roots that popped out of the ground. After a while they slowed down, trying to catch their breath between all the laughing and running and before they knew it they heard a voice not far behind them.

“When I get my hands on you!”

“He’s still at it!” Skrit snorted and pushed Shela away so she could run off in a different direction. Niamh didn’t need the same gesture, he simply turned and went West, then North West.

He knew he’d come up to the river soon and if the man was tracking him- which he doubted, but still, he could lose him there. There was a great tree by the river, a powerful storm had made the water crash into it for too long, causing most of the roots to stand out. It was one of those places the teachers told them not to visit because it was dangerous, they never really knew when the thing was going to fall over, or if for that matter, but nobody really took an axe to it anyway. That was a good hiding place, so with a wicked grin on his face he kept running until his boots hit the water and his legs were soaking wet. It wasn’t long before he reached the spot.

First he looked around to make sure the man wasn't watching him. He could hear so many sounds in the forest over the thudding of his heart and he couldn’t tell if it was the wind of the guy trying to push away branches and leaves. When Niamh was sure the coast was clear he dipped down and squeezed between the thickest root and the ground. Sunlight still beamed in through that straight line in the little opening but it wasn’t until he was halfway in that he noticed…

He felt hands all over his arms, pulling him inside.

“Come on! Did he follow you?” Prins asked.

Niamh could barely contain himself. Once he settled down on his spot he had to push the back of his hand against his mouth to stop himself from laughing. If Prins was here then maybe others would think to hide under the tree too but that just made it funnier because there was spot for maybe one more and they’d have to chase everyone else away.

“Shush it, he’s gonna hear us.” Prins nudged him.

“We don’ even know if he’s out there.” Niamh pushed right back and got up from his spot, crawling on his knees to the opening to look outside. He could hear the water, but not much else. “Don’t seem like it.” h sighed, leaning back so he could catch his breath.

At least they were able to calm down a little bit. Of course both of them hoped nobody would get caught but they also didn’t think they’d get in serious trouble because of it. Trespassing, really? There weren’t any state secrets hidden under the mud anyway, so who cared?

“Hey,” Prins said, tapping his shoulder.

Niamh waited a while to stop breathing so deeply and frantically, then turned towards his friend and wasn’t so surprised when their lips met. It wasn’t the first time and it hopefully wouldn’t be the last time they kissed. They chuckled quietly against each other and kept close, looking at each other through young lashes.

It had been Niamh that had expressed his liking to Prins a few weeks ago and word spread out but they had kept their kissing and hugging and hand holding to private settings and right then? Under a tree in an area they could barely move around? It felt very private. They decided to stay there for a little while longer. It felt magical to be kissing like that, especially with only the one beam of light warming up their cheeks. It was almost as if it was secret, and it was their secret.

“You were flirting with Shela today.”

“No I wasn’t.” Niamh could tell there was a bit of fun in Prins’ voice. He was just teasing.

“Yeah… you were! You liar!”

“Promise, I wasn’t.” Niamh pulled him into a hug and kissed him again.

“Good. Cause I’ve already decided that I like you a lot. So you’re not allowed to flirt with anyone else ever again.”

“Oh? A’ight… And you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you allowed to flirt?”

“Only when you need to be reminded.” Prins bit his lower lip, essentially locking Niamh in that position.

“I’m not followin’” the future commander admitted with a chuckle.

“That you could lose me if you ain’t too careful.”

They both laughed hard then. Prins had a way of being mean, mysterious and entitled a lot of the times, but maybe that was why Niamh liked him in the first place. He was still young, but he was definitely in love. And around their community it wasn’t unheard of for young love to evolve into so, so much more. He was looking forward to that.

#ironwill #niamh

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seanmeverett · 7 years ago

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14 Billionaires & Celebrities Get Coached

Helping you get to where you want to go in life, faster.

I. The Feeling That Just Won’t Go Away

The world is screaming at you, like a monstrous wave, coming faster, a million miles per second. Your teeth are sweating. You’re in a place you’ve never been before in your life. Impossible decisions. Immovable objects. Unstoppable forces. Problems abound, financial, career, health, relationships, life.

How are you supposed to perform at the world-class caliber level you’ve worked your ass off to achieve, in spite of this seemingly never-ending stress?

That knot in your stomach isn’t in your stomach any longer. The cords have wrapped themselves around your bones, up your neck, into your head, down your arms and legs, and into your toes. Someone is on the other end of that rope, both feet propped up on your back, and they’re pulling as hard as they possibly can to tighten that invisible chain, attempting to collapse you into an immovable ball.

How did we get here?

The people in this world who achieve incredible things, and people who just want to live a happy carefree life, have to go through this wretched pain. A hero’s journey.

If any of this sounds familiar, you might just need to find yourself a life, wellness, or executive coach.

You could call it a teacher, a therapist, a mentor, or a coach, but in the end we all need a little help getting to the next level. That could be that hyper-competitive class with the bomb teacher who helps get you into the League of Ivy. Or maybe someone who teaches you how to be empathetic to your colleagues, removing the roadblock to the promotion you’ve been passed over a few times. Or, dealing with some deep-rooted pain that’s existed since childhood. Of course, it could be as simple as getting the confidence you need to go out and tackle something that seems just slightly out of reach.

If your arm is broken, you go to the hospital and get a “coach” to fix it. But in all other areas of life, there really isn’t much of that. Isn’t that sad?

We can do better.

So we put together a list of big name people who’ve gone an alternative route, and used it to great effect. Lets just all stop adulting and live like kids again. Life would be so much more fun.

Enter: The Coach.

II. Billionaires & Celebrities Get Coached

It’s not a coincidence that these people are where they are. Achieving incredible results isn’t just luck. It’s suffering. Suffering for years, for decades, until all that work compounds, adds up, and finally pays off. But they don’t rest on their laurels. They keep going. Keep pushing. They…get coached.

Running A Huge Tech Company. Chairman of Alphabet (formerly CEO of Google), Eric Schmidt, says the best advice he ever got was to hire an executive coach. A famous Venture Capitalist and Board member, John Doerr, was the one who suggested it. But Eric was a longtime executive that was already running a successful global business that was growing like a weed. He didn’t need a coach. And so he resisted. But eventually turned the corner, gave it a shot and in a later interview with Fortune Magazine, he said “everyone needs a coach.”

Building A Massive Media Brand. Oprah is such a household name that you don’t even need to include her last one. She built her brand from a local news station into one of the most trusted advisors of consciousness in America and maybe, the world. She’s attributed part of that success to her life coach, Martha Beck, and has been a major advocate of it. Oprah’s even gone so far as showcasing various life coaches to her audience over the years and recommending one for everybody.

Recovering From Childhood Stardom. Sometimes it’s not about achieving success that’s the problem. Sometimes it’s dealing with what happens afterwards that is. If you remember Danny Bonaduce from The Partridge Family days, you’ll remember a precocious red-headed kid bound for success. But after struggling with drug abuse, legal issues, and homelessness, it wasn’t until a life coach entered the picture that things got better. He’s now a life coach on air, helping others just like they helped him.

Achieving Super Bowl Champion Status. The Denver Broncos star linebacker, Von Miller, has had issues with the law in the past. And we all know where that will lead if left unchecked. There’s no Superbowl rings in jail. He got a coach to help turn his life around and since those low points, he’s now a Super Bowl champion and, wouldn’t you know it, MVP.

Becoming a Famous Actress. Nia Long has been a successful actress for two decades. She’s come out and said living a happy and fulfilling life is a result of working with her own coach.

Rock Star Status. Famous rock bands are no stranger to family fueds. When you spend that much time together, add in a mix of fame, fortune, and social power, the mix can be downright disastrous. In Metallica’s case, this rang all too true. In fact, there was even a documentary made about it. So they got themselves a life coach named Phil Towle who helped them work through the issues, resulting in their subsequent album reslease. Now that’s what I call success if I’ve ever heard it.

Oscar-Winning Actor. There’s famous, and then there’s really famous. Leonardo DiCaprio is the latter. And he spared no expense with his life coach, going all the way to the top to, you guessed it, Mr. Tony Robbins. Leo keeps tight-lipped about his experiences, but it’s hard to argue with the results. If the struggle found within the plotline of The Revenant is analogous to the struggle of becoming one of the greatest actors ever, then it stands to reason that the DiCaprio-Robbins dynamic duo is going to be one for the history books. Wouldn’t it be nice if you could get your own?

Leader of the Free World. You know what’s a hard job? Being a leader. You know what’s even harder? Being responsible for 300 million people. Bill Clinton, the former President of the United States is also a proud customer of Tony Robbin’s coaching. And I’d say it paid off. That job is pretty darn hard to get. In the entire history of the country, he was only the 42nd person to have been promoted into the role.

Tennis Goddess Overcoming Injury. Let’s throw in one more Tony Robbins customer for good measure. In this case, we’re moving from acting to leadership to sports. Serena Williams to be exact. Her big struggle was one of a steady stream of injuries. When you play such a hard-hitting sport like tennis for your entire life, it’s bound to add up. Tony helped her work through the pain, get her mind right, and get back on top. Not just any top. Grand Slam top. Nice volley, you.

Tennis Star Overcoming Addiction. Let’s shift gears to another tennis star on the other side of the gender divide. He was so great at his sport that even decades later, he’s still a household name. But did you know that Andre Agassi was once ranked 126th in the world? He eventually became #1 in the world, but that came with different issues, like drug abuse, which he’s been open about. We happen to be family friends with the coach who helped him through it. Both incredible people with incredible stories. Everyone struggles, but it’s the people who lend a helping hand that become your family, whether by blood or otherwise.

Musical Prodigy Grows Up. We’re all familiar with the musical prodigy, Justin Bieber. He’s had his ups and downs transitioning to adulthood. But when Hillsong’s Carl Lentz stepped in, things started moving in the right direction. He now appears happier, more motivated, and driven with a purpose he didn’t quite have before. Coaches can be called many names. In this case, Justin called him Pastor first, and friend, second.

Wolverine’s Personal Improvement Plan. Sometimes you’re not struggling as much as you are focused on getting a little bit better every day. And so you go out looking for novel ways to achieve that. For two decades, Hugh Jackman had been wanting to work with Tony Robbins (another one!) based on all the positive feedback from his peers. When he finally had the chance, Tony’s first words to him were, “I have a gift for you.” I don’t know about you, but I really want to know what that gift was. Of course, it’s so personalized that it wouldn’t much matter to you, but that’s the whole point of coaching, no? The personalized tactics?

MMA Mental Fights. By now most of us have heard of the MMA. It’s a brutal sport that requires both physical and mental stamina. And one of the best to ever do it was Chuck “The Iceman” Liddell. He also spent time working with Tony Robbins (noticing a pattern?) to get his mind right. The body is a tool, and can only be driven by the mind. So if the mind’s off, your body will be too. Chuck gets it. You should too.

III. Secret Bonus: The Star Wars Hero’s Journey

In all of the cases above, you’ll see a similar story. The mechanics are the same:

Struggle + Coach = Achievement

If you remove the struggle, there’s no need for a coach because it means you’re not working towards anything great. If you remove the coach it means you might just fail emotionally, intellectually, physically, or spiritually and never achieve what you want either. What’s required then is both, working together as one, to get to where you want to go.

You might be surprised to learn that Star Wars may never have happened if it weren’t for one man’s dedication during The Great Depression. It was his work that directly influenced George Lucas’s success. Read on to discover his secret sauce:

How to Find Your Mission and Success

IV. Just Launched: ‘Find Your Mission’

Find Your Mission is a training, coaching, and accountability service unlike any other. Find Your Mission focuses on leveling up your:

Health, by improving your fitness and diet.

Wealth, through upgrading your career, or finding a better job, or helping you make more money.

Wisdom, by creating a personalized learning and self-education plan.

Each of our coaches have achieved results in the real world that put them in the top 1% of their respective fields. They have traveled the paths you must to achieve your goals and can offer real, substantive strategies and tactics. Their expertise will help you save months, if not years, in the achievement of your goals. Each of these coaches are doers, and not just talkers or writers.

Top 10: Get a Free 30 Minute Strategy Session

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For those that apply, we have a contest running until the end of Sept. Check it out!

— Sean Everett

If you enjoyed this story, please click the 👏 button and share to help others find it! Feel free to leave a comment below.

The Mission publishes stories, videos, and podcasts that make smart people smarter. You can subscribe to get them here. By subscribing and sharing, you will be entered to win three (super awesome) prizes!

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