#double Big posting today<- had to make this in 8 hours for a class . <- realized it was not due in 8 hours upon completion

[ferretrix]

Knight I

#the 2 people i showed this to asked if it was a self portrait...i wish #double Big posting today<- had to make this in 8 hours for a class . <- realized it was not due in 8 hours upon completion #good news im less nauseous now :-)

[xeulousluv]

Almost

AN: Hello everyone, I am fairly new to posting on this app, so therefore I am still learning how to use it. Hehe :) Anyways, I hope you are having a great day!

Warning: Nothing really, maybe a little bit of angst? 

Zayn and Y/n broke up and all he’s left with are the videos she took during their senior year of high school.

September 1st, 2010: 

The camera was set up in her hand as she was slightly fixing her hair, a huge smile plastered on her makeup covered face. He always thought she looked better without makeup, but sometimes you couldn’t beat the insecurities. 

“Here we are, the first day of senior year! How are we feeling, Zayn?” 

Next to her stood himself, a much younger version of himself. Two years to be exact. He was almost unrecognizabel, with his usual high school attire adoring his body. A white tee-shirt, black skinny jeans, and not to mention his varsity football jacket hanging off of his shoulders. She looked lovingly at her boyfriend, her eyelashes beating against the softness of her rounded cheeks. 

“I’m ready to get out of here, the last three years were the upmost worst years of my life.” Zayn spoke truthfully, he hadn’t expected to make it past the ninth grade, but with the help of Y/n, he managed to make it all the way to his graduating year. Y/n gave him an offended look before responding, “Hey! If it weren’t for these last three years, you would’ve never met me, let alone had the courage to talk to me. Am I really that bad?” 

She laughed out while speaking, all so he knows that she is joking and would never accuse him of thinking such things. Though, he was already two steps ahead of her and was laughing along at her sad attempt of looking offended. “Of course not, baby. You are what kept me going.” With that, Zayn kissed her temple and she let out a small giggle before stopping the camera. 

September 5th, 2010:

Random small talk was heard on the computer sitting in front of Zayn, before her face showed with a bright glow. She was so beautiful it almost hurt. She was laughing at something her friend Emery said, though it was completely inaudible, he just let the smile take over his face hearing her laugh again. 

“I don’t exactly know why I turned this on, but hello! We successfully made it through the first week of school, and let me just say, it was not fun. The teachers still hate me.” Again, Y/n laughed towards the camera. 

“I remember this one time last year when Mr. Lambert threw me out of class because I wouldn’t stop laughing. In my defence, he was talking about the safety of condoms and Zayn kept mocking him. That was a detention worth going to.” Zayn remembered that day clearly. He sat to the left of Y/n, Mr. Lambert’s first mistake, and would whisper in her ear how he would show her the proper way to wear a condom when they got to her house that night. To say he did end up showing her was an understatement. 

The camera then turned to her friend before she continued on with what she was saying, “Anyways, Emery here, has informed me about this back to school party for seniors at Anthony Stilettos house. So, we are heading to the mall so we can get a nice looking outfit for tonight. I’ll see you guys later!”  And with that the camera switched off.

He thought that was the end of the video, but when she popped back on his screen, he was pleasantly surprised. She wore a black dress that just reached her knees, the end of it rippled and flew each time she took a step. Her hair and makeup was done, and her shoes matched her dress, she really was the most beautiful person he has ever met. 

Without saying anything, Y/n moved the camera to where the view was now on Emery. She wore a simple tight red dress that fit her like a glove, she was placing bobby pins in her hair before realising a camera was watching her every move. Emery turned away from the mirror Y/n had in her room, and started making random poses into the camera. The video finally ended with Y/n facing the camera back to herself while laughing at it. 

October 7th, 2010: 

It was homecoming. Their final homecoming, and of course, Zayn asked her to be his date. He didn’t go all out like the previous years, this particular year was asked right after they finished giving each other their all. They were bunched up together, all sweaty and breathless, and that is when Zayn asked her to go to homecoming with him. He thought it was gross because of their previous activities, but Y/n thought it was sweet, endearing even. It was personal and intimate, she wouldn’t have had it any other way. Plus, she was tired of all the attention that comes with getting asked to homecoming. 

Her dress was a beautiful shade of baby yellow, Zayn wore his usual black suit but with a yellow tie and a yellow rose pinned to his coat pocket. The night couldn’t have been anymore magical. 

“Z, are you ready to go? Emmy and Dallas are waiting in the car.” Her soft voice echoed through the speakers, she was worried about being late. But more so, excited about what the night had planned for the couple. Zayn was fixing his hair, like he does any other day, however today, he wanted to look his absolute best. “Just one more second, love. Gotta look perfect before leaving these four secured walls.” 

Y/n rolled her eyes into the camera before another smile took over her face. It only got wider as he finally announced that he was ready. 

“Baby, you look handsome! You don’t need all that hair gel, make one wrong move and we’re calling you Uncle Jesse.” Zayn scoffed, his hands finding their place on her hips, him being pressed up against her back. His chin resting on her shoulder, they looked so in love. They were so in love. 

October 31st, 2010: 

Fall was Y/n’s favorite season, meaning Halloween was by far her favorite holiday. She squealed into the camera when Zayn walked out in his Peter Pan costume. “Baby, you look so fucking adorable!” She cooed, though Zayn was having none of it. “Do we have to go to this party? Can’t we just stay in and watch scary movies, I promise I will protect you if you get too scared!”

He knew it was no use, Y/n had been going on and on about Anthony’s costume party for the past week, so when she started laughing, Zayn internally groaned. “Brave of you to assume I will get scared during a horror movie. How about we go for just an hour, then you and I can come back here and watch whatever movie you want?” 

At that, his ears perked, he could go for an hour. That gives him all the more time alone with his love. “Hocus Pocus? That’s my favorite.” 

“Yes baby, we can watch Hocus Pocus, do this for me, and I’m all yours for the rest of the night.” A grin was stretched across his face as she leaned up and gave a peck to his lips. Adoration shining brightly in her eyes as she looked up at him. “You are so lucky I love you, Y/n.” 

“I love you, Zayn. More than you will ever know.” 

December 31st, 2010:

“Hola, my favorite people! Happy New Years Eve, I hope you guys are having a good day. My family is having a little party to bring in the new year, even though you won’t be watching this until later when I decide to post it, I hope you guys have an amazing holiday. Be safe now. Bye!”

Christmas and New Year’s was hard for Y/n. She had major separation anxiety for everyone she grows close to, so not being able to see the people she loves for a whole two weeks was taking a toll on her. Not to mention, Zayn went back to Bradford for the holidays, so he wasn’t there to keep her calm. All she had was the emails and messages he would send her.  

However, that night was different. She didn’t know what it was, but the air felt more intoxicating. There was something she was missing and the young girl couldn’t put her finger on it. 

Emery got ahold of Y/n’s camera without her noticing, pressing the ‘record’ button and smiling.

“Hi, as many of you may know, my name is Emery White. Before questions start racing through your head about where Y/n is, she is currently in the kitchen talking to one of her neighbors, and she knows nothing about this so, shhh!” Emery held her index finger up to her mouth, even though she is talking to a camera. 

“So, the time is now 11:58, meaning it is almost New Year’s and I got a message from a good friend of mine to get her camera and start recording. Oh wait, she’s coming over! Act normal!” 

“Emmy? Why do you have my camera, wait no, when did you get my camera?” Emery turned her neck to look at Y/n, and smiled while looking at her friends confused face. “It’s almost midnight, I figured we could record the big moment for your journal thing.” 

Y/n looked at her watch and sure enough, it was 12:59, and the people around her were counting down. By the time Y/n looked back at her friend, Emery had switched her position to behind the camera, her smile now stretching to her eyes. She gave a confused smile towards the camera before shaking her head. 

10..

9..

8..

A tap was felt on Y/n’s shoulder making her turn around, not believing her eyes, she had to do a double take. There he was in all of his glory. Zayn stood in front of her with a bouquet of random flowers, her eyes widening in complete shock. 

3..

2..

1!

Before she could fully process his presence, Zayn had planted his lips against hers in what he would call, one of their best kisses. His arms went around her waist while hers were around his neck, keeping him as close as humanly possible. She was the first to pull away from the kiss, tears forming at the bottom of her eyes but never fell. Zayn pulled her back, this time her face went into his neck as he whispered out a small, “Happy New Years, baby.” 

May 22nd, 2011: 

Senior prom, a day Y/n has waited her entire life for. Getting all dolled up for one night of perfection sounded glorious. Unlike most people, her dress doesn’t reach the floor but goes a little ways past her knees. It was a light shade of green, she wasn’t usually one for the cliche pink and blue, and her stomach was laced over showing her belly button peircing. She felt on top of the world, the most gorgeous she has ever felt in her entire life. 

Zayn was in a nude tuxedo, a lightish green tie tucked into the blazer. “It’s prom day, baby, how do you feel?” The now well-known camera placed in front of his face, though he paid no attention to it, but really the girl behind it. “Like I have the most beautiful girlfriend in the world. How did I get so lucky, hm?” 

The blush was evident on her face, he could see it perfectly now even with the camera facing him and not herself. He could still see the light in her eyes. Looking back on it, he couldn’t imagine living his life without her, how could he let her go? 

It wasn’t like they got in a fight or anything, Zayn and Y/n were going to different colleges and he didn’t want to do the whole long distance thing. He felt she deserved better than that. So even though the breakup was absolutely not a mutual agreement, Y/n somewhat understood and let him walk away. 

“You’re such the charmer, Zayn. Always got me blushing for no good reason.” 

“I would be a bad boyfriend if I didn’t.” 

Now turning the camera to face both of them, Zayn placed a kiss on her lips before turning off the camera and letting their night go on as best as it could, for it would be one of the last good memories they have. Except at the time, neither of them knew the last time would actually be the last time. 

June 4th, 2011: 

“Hey everyone, I just want to start off by saying congratulations, we made it. Graduating today was the most amazing feelings, and I’m sure you all can agree with me. The past four years have really taught me a lot, I know I sound like the Mallory Barnes, our valedictorian that gave the speech today, but I’m serious, you all have been amazing. Teachers included.” 

Y/n wasn’t in her usual attire. She was in a comfortable baggy hoodie, and that’s all you could see as her camera was propped on the desk in the corner of the room. Her hair was in a messy bun, no makeup, and her glasses were sat perfectly on her nose. What no one could notice was the slight puffiness to her eyes, the way they were red and tired. But Zayn noticed, however. When Y/n first uploaded this to her instagram, Zayn couldn’t bare to watch it, so seeing it now definitely brought back a feeling he tried too hard to push away. 

“In the past four years I have learned about friendships, I learned about love, and I learned about heartbreak. I have got to say, high school brought me some really great friendships that I will cherish forever. I am finding it very difficult to say goodbye, but we are bound to go off and do bigger and better things. The future awaits for us.” 

“I just want to thank you guys for the amazing memories, and I hope you guys make your dreams come true.” Y/n sighed into the camera, she was really bad at saying goodbye, though you would think it would be easier considering no one likes high school. However, Y/n loved every single second of it, maybe not the learning but the memories made.

“Now, I am going to get really sappy for a minute and say a massive thank you to the man who has loved me for the past four years. Zayn, I know we haven’t talked in a few weeks, and you’re probably not even watching this, but just know that I am so proud of you.  I don’t know how I could not be. I really hope you make something wonderful of yourself. You were by far my favorite part of this journey. Thank you for sticking with me and for loving me. And even though we aren’t together anymore, I love you.”

“We almost had it all, didn’t we?” 

AN: Yeah, I don't think I like this babahahah. Love the concept but someone out there could definitely write it better. 

#zayn mailk #zayn x reader #zayn malik fanfic #zayn malik angst #angst fanfic

[hargrove-mayfields]

Memories Are Golden

The prom of ‘85 was just one week away. If you asked Steve how much involvement he would’ve have in the event, not even a month ago he would’ve guessed it to be nothing more than maybe taking a flyer home and immediately throwing it in the trash.

Because he wouldn’t be able to go anyways, him and his date didn’t exactly abide by the administration's rules, or society’s, for that matter, so he didn’t care about the whole thing, until last minute, when Nancy had successfully convinced him to be a part of the prom committee with her.

The conversation had basically been a very lengthy guilt trip, he’s well aware of that, and her whole, ‘best moments of our lives’ speech hadn’t really done much to change his mind either.

In the end, Steve had only decided he was going to do it for three reasons: he’d get extra credit in the teacher in charge of prom, the math teachers, class, he wouldn’t have to go to any of his morning classes, and Robin joined in on Nancy’s bullying him because her and Heather would be apart of the committee too.

So now for the next week leading up to the big day, Steve has to spend his mornings in the gym putting up the decorations for the grand march.

But it isn’t all bad, because their small little task force made up of the other poor souls Nancy had rallied to do this with her is all of his friends, Nancy and Barb and Robin and Heather, with the addition of one very begrudging Billy Hargrove.

The girls were all the type you’d expect to be into this thing, the crafty ones mixed in with popularity, and everyone knew Steve would do anything to show school spirit, especially if Nancy bullied him into it, but nobody actually expected Billy of all people to even show up.

He certainly looked more likely to be the one crashing the prom than hanging up little foil stars on the walls, and anyways, rumor had it he only was on the committee as an alternative to detention for smoking weed under the bleachers.

But Steve knew that had absolutely not happened, for one thing, Billy’s weed stayed tightly locked up in his bedroom, thank you very much, and for another, he was there completely willingly. Steve knew that, because he’d been the one to tell Billy to sign up.

Which, when it really got right down to it, Billy honestly was the only reason Steve was even doing this whole thing. They were used to working in a couple of very limited interactions on the court or in the few classes they shared, but with the prom committee they’d be required to spend at least four hours together every day. It was the golden opportunity, even if that wasn’t the way Nancy intended it.

So maybe Billy does show up a little late every morning on purpose, just to keep up appearances, but he’s got a smile on his face, hidden behind the styrofoam coffee cup he gets from the cafeteria as he seeks out Steve and sits beside him in the bleachers to wait for that days instruction.

“Mornin’ Bill.” Steve mumbles tiredly, used to coming in late every day and getting at least an extra hour of sleep most days.

Billy nods and hums in his throat as his only response, so Steve asks him, “You wake up on the wrong side of the bed this mornin’?”

And of course, in true Billy fashion, he flashes Steve his most shit eating grin, and says all nonchalant, “Always do when I wake up alone.”

It’s so cheesy, and very obviously meant to get to him, but Steve can’t help the blush that creeps up his neck. He’s still trying to think up an equally as flustering comeback, when the teacher in charge finally shows up.

She announces that this year’s theme was ‘under the stars’, which Steve thought sounded incredibly tacky, but there was still no way it would be any worse than the godawful ‘hollywood’ theme from the year before. Hawkins High had a reputation for a lot of things, but creativity was not one of them.

They get split up into groups, Nancy and Barb in charge of the promo, the writing up, designing, and printing of the announcements and tickets, and Robin and Heather got the delicate detail work, blowing up balloons, laying down the artificial grass squares and hanging or putting in place whatever the other groups made them.

Billy and Steve, on the other hand, were stuck with all the dirty work, the manly jobs. They’re the ones who have to paint the banner that’s going to go over the door, and carry anything that’s considered too heavy and hang anything too high (even though Barb really isn’t that much shorter than them), and set up the tents and string the electricity to the lights in the fake lamp posts.

Quite frankly, Steve doesn’t think it’s fair that they have double the workload as the girls, most of the week had been dedicated to their work, but he just can’t bring himself to complain about getting to watch Billy working every morning, still barely awake yet, his hair pulled up so it didn’t get paint or that much glitter in it.

~~~~~~~~

On their last day in the gym, all that’s left is to sort out a few last minute details, the final squares of fake grass are laid out, lights are tested and glitter is spread out on everything. It doesn’t take too awful long, so they end up with just under three hours leftover to kill.

What they’re supposed to do is report back to their morning classes and try to catch up on all the work they’ve been missing out on for the entire week, but Billy isn’t looking to worry about a bunch of school work, so he tries to convince the rest to skip those last few hours with him.

From Barb and Nancy he gets an instant no, which, he was honestly expecting that. They’re responsible girls, and he can’t blame them for giving two shits about their education. The fact of the matter is though, that he doesn’t.

What he isn’t expecting as much is for his best friend to tell him no, but Heather’s too excited about her senior prom to get in trouble the day before it, and he can respect that.

He already knows that if Heather’s not going, Robin’s not either, so he waves her off before she even bothers trying to explain herself.

That just leaves Steve, and lord knows Billy’s been a bad enough influence on him that he doesn’t even have to ask if he’s ditching, so when Mrs Mitchell and the girls leave, they follow behind until they’re out in the hallway, then duck out of the back entrance of the gym.

Most of the time when people skip they just go home considering the lack of literally anything at all to do around Hawkins, but with Steve’s house too far away for it to be worth leaving, and Billy’s stepmom still at home, that sort of wasn’t an option for them.

Usually they don’t skip for those very reasons, but today they have a handwritten excuse to be out of their classes until exactly 12:15, so in a way, it isn’t so much like skipping as it is just using their free time wisely. Or at least, that’s how Steve rationalizes it, earning from Billy, who thought it was sweet that his former bad boy felt it necessary to make excuses for skipping, a chuckle and a warm smile.

They decide to just hang out on the school grounds, nowhere in town to go but the diner and the stores downtown, and they weren’t in the mood for food nor did they have enough money to blow buying stupid shit they didn’t need, so smoking and sneaking kisses by the tree line on the practice field it was.

It’s nice, but Billy doesn’t like the quiet, furrowed brow as he plucks blades of just growing grass trying to think of something to say that would break the silence. Steve just waits patiently with a lit cigarette burning out between his fingers for Billy to speak, listening intently when he finally says, “You know, s’a shame that I can’t take you to the prom after all that work we did for it.”

“Nah, prom’s way overrated.” Steve blows him off, not wanting him to feel bad about it, personally viewing the dance as stupid anyways, in a way sort of glad he doesn’t have to go, “It’s just a way to pay for new football uniforms and make kids who piqued in highschool feel good about themselves.”

But Billy doesn’t even laugh at that, flicking the head off a dandelion to keep his hands busy as he basically mumbles, “Guess you had time to think ‘bout it already.”

“Yeah. I guess I just always thought dances were kind of dumb. Now that I’m not King Steve anymore I just don’t really see a reason to bother with ‘em.” Steve explains, sliding his hand over to Billy’s across the tips of cool blades of grass, linking their pinkies together and leaning his head against his shoulder, soft touches like these the only way Billy could tell the difference between an open conversation and an argument.

“Still, think it’d be nice to be able to show you off. Let ‘em know what they’ve been missing.” Billy admits, a shy crack of a smile, like he was afraid to bring it up, and it makes Steve smile back, looking straight into the vulnerability behind his blue eyes and saying so softly it’s almost a whisper, “S’not necessary, B. I’m all yours.”

Billy pulls his hand away, a flush on his cheeks that wasn’t just from the warmth of the sun, overwhelmed by the affection just a bit, not uncomfortable with it, just not used to it, and bumps his shoulder into Steve’s, telling him, “God, you’re such a sap.”

“Hey, you’re the one that wanted to take me to the prom.” Steve says, barely even defensive, making Billy smile again.

There’s a break in the conversation, both of them flustered and thinking about the other, until Steve interrupts the quiet this time, leaning back on his hands in the grass and suggesting, “We could do our own prom though, you know.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“Well, we can’t do the real thing, obviously, but I don’t have any other plans tomorrow. You should drop by.”

“You’re really askin’ me to be your prom date?” Billy smirks, but the vulnerable hope in his eyes gives him away, and makes Steve’s heart flutter, though he replies nonchalant, “Who else? Be there at 8:30?”

“It’s a date. See you then, pretty boy.” Billy says with a smile, leaning in to kiss Steve, but getting interrupted by his watch beeping, their break time almost up already.

Steve chuckles and kisses his nose, and says, “Guess we better get back then.” waiting for Billy to leave first so his boyfriend had a head start to get into the school before him.

Billy throws a wink over his shoulder as he retreats towards the gym doors, and suddenly the weight of what they’d just agreed to settles with Steve.

Maybe this prom thing wasn’t as overrated as he thought, because did he ever feel over the moon right now, blushing like an idiot and just standing there dazedly until he hears the bell ring inside the building.

Apparently it showed too, that butterflies in his stomach feeling he had for the rest of the day, if the fact that Robin pulled him aside in the cafeteria for an emergency meeting about why he couldn’t wipe the goofy grin off his face was any indication.

He told her some lie, something about one of the teachers he got his makeup work off of cutting him some slack, and Robin doesn’t believe that, but she knows it’s none of her business, so she lets him keep smiling.

Still, as much as Steve was looking forward to this, at the end of the day when he waved at Billy from across the parking lot, he got nervous. Like, speeding back home to Loch Nora in under ten minutes on a normally fifteen minute drive nervous.

Because he still has a lot of shit to get done between now and tomorrow night when Billy is supposed to show up.

For one thing, his house is a disaster. He almost never cleans it until it’s too late, half-assing the dishes and overloading the washing machine and hiding things in closets usually the day before his parents were supposed to get back.

Another thing is how should he dress? He had a few fancy suits of his own from outings with his parents and past dances, but he knew Billy wouldn’t. Still, wouldn’t it be rude to underdress just because he assumed Billy would be too poor to clean up?

And what did people even do at prom? Get drunk and have sex? If Billy wanted to do that he would’ve just said so. How was Steve supposed to figure out what else they were going to do? The rest of prom is just bad dancing and even worse food, was that something he was supposed to include?

What if he’d sent the wrong signal in the first place and it wasn’t just going to be them? What if Billy showed up at his door with a bunch of other losers skipping out on prom night and this wasn’t really special at all?

The thing is, he knows he’s being irrational. Billy’s not the type to care about this stuff, and even if he did he wasn’t gonna like, break things off just because their little fake prom in Steve’s living room wasn’t perfect. That’s just ridiculous.

So he tries to redirect that initial panic into productivity. Get at least something planned out and put together before he freaks all the way out and loses his motivation.

He decides to do it in small parts, tonight he’d start with the cleaning and getting everything he already had together, and tomorrow would be for shopping and decorating.

Because he’s got such a scatterbrain, he makes a list of all the things he needed to get done before 8:30 tomorrow night, and already he feels the stress start to dissipate with each thing he gets to check off, the living room cleaned until Ruthie would approve, picking out a nice sweater he’d never worn before, fancy but not too much, and tracking down all the things he already had, a record player, the fancy wine Billy said he liked, and a couple of strings of fairy lights and tinsel.

~~~~~~~~~

The next morning he goes straight to Melvald’s, with the rest of his checklist to but candles, more decorations, a boutonnière, just to do it, and maybe something other than takeout to eat for once.

He must look as nervous as he feels, dumping his purchases on the counter, because Joyce smiles that understanding smile of hers, and asks him, “Last minute jitters before prom?”

“You could say that.” He responds breathily, trying to return the smile.

“Jonathan and Nancy decided not to go, but it sounds like it’ll be fun.” Joyce says with a nod, and Steve realizes he’s given her the wrong impression, explaining, “Oh, I’m not going to the real thing either, just hanging out with a friend tonight.”

“Well that sounds nice anyways.” She says, as she rings up his stuff remarking, “You must really like this friend to go all out like this.”

“Yeah he’s-“ Steve physically shakes his head, a reminder to stop talking before he gets himself caught, backpedaling with a shaky excuse, “I-I mean, it’s not like it’s a prom date , it’s just, you know, two guys hanging out.“

Joyce puts her hand on his, that same warm smile still on her face, and tells him, looking him right in the eye as if to say, ‘I know, but it’s okay’, “I’m happy for you, Steve. Have fun tonight.”

Steve nods, a flush to his cheeks as he leaves the store with not another word than, “I… Thank you Mrs. Byers.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Billy knew absolutely jack and shit about school dances.

The first and only he’d ever been bothered to go to was way back in elementary school, and that didn’t exactly hold a candle to the fucking prom.

It helped some that it wasn’t the real thing, but Steve was talking like it might as well be, and quite frankly, he wanted it to be. This was going to be special goddamnit.

But before he can even think too much about it, he realizes none of that will matter if it turns out he can’t show, so he brings it up with his dad at dinner.

At the table is where he’s least likely to get beat if Neil said no, so that was always the time he chose to ask for things. “I know it’s, uh, kind of last minute ‘cause it’s tomorrow night, but could I go to the prom?”

Neil quirks an eyebrow, seeming mostly uninterested, “With who?”

“Nobody as a date.” Billy explains, using the cover story he’d been coming up with since the minute Steve asked him, or rather in anticipation of, “Heather has a spare ticket ‘cause her actual date ditched her last minute and she asked me if I would go with her.”

Neil nods, seemingly believing him, and asks, “When’s it start?”

“Uh, about 8, I think, so I’ll probably leave at like, 6:30 or so.” Billy throws it out nervously, tapping his fingers against the underside of the table, and freezing when Neil speaks.

But he doesn’t get yelled at, it’s just a simple, calm, “Susan, do we have anything planned that time tomorrow?”

“No, dear. Max is going with her friends at six, but other than that...” Comes her timid response without a hitch, and Billy already knows he’s in the clear before Neil gives his response, still not looking up from the table.

He agrees, but with a few conditions that Billy wouldn’t dare disobey, “If you drop your sister off first, you’ve got yourself a deal. Just don’t come home if you’re drunk, and don’t waste all my damned money on pictures.”

Billy nods, his heart racing in anticipation of something he was pretty sure at this point wasn’t going to happen, though some part of him was still waiting for the slap across the face and a never your mind as he says dutifully, “Yessir. Thank you.”

~~~~~~~~~

Billy starts getting ready six hours early for two reasons: for one thing, the sooner he’s ready, the more time he had away from Neil and to psyche himself up to knock on Steve’s door, and for another, his hair on a normal day takes at least an hour if he doesn’t want it frizzing out or losing it’s curl or getting heavy, and this was his prom, he was willing to spend a whole day on his hair for the sake of looking nice, even if there were no pictures of it.

Of course Max, being the little nuisance she is, follows him to his bedroom when he goes to get ready, holding the door open with her foot so he couldn’t slam it in her face, and earning herself a grumbly, “What do you want, Maxine?”

“I thought you told me you weren’t going to the prom.” She says it like she caught him doing something wrong, as if plans couldn’t change, and it pisses Billy off a little bit.

“I’m not-“ He starts to explain, cutting himself off when somewhere in the house Neil pops the tab on a beer can, a tiny sound Max probably hadn’t even picked up on, but if his father was out and about in the house Billy doesn’t want to admit what he’s going to in front of him. He opens his door wider and ushers his step sister in, immediately shutting it behind her and finishing what he was saying,  “I’m not going to the prom.”

She quirks an eyebrow, through Billy’s eyes maybe looking a bit too much like her step-dad when she does it, “Why’d you tell Neil you were?”

“Crashing the after party. Thought it’d look better if I said I went.” He just shrugs, half assing the lie, and, picking up on that, Max fires back smugly, “You’re lying.”

Billy snaps, no longer looking at her while he starts lining his shit up on his makeshift vanity, getting ready to get ready, “Yeah, I am. But it’s really none of your business, shitbird.”

“Are you going on a date or something?” She looks at him knowingly, if not a little surprised, and asks as it dawns on her, “Oh my god, do you have a boyfriend?”

“Maxine Nicole!” He hisses through his teeth, turning to glare at her and seeing that she’s holding his hair spray that he literally just put out, probably planning on stealing it, “Jesus, give me that.”

She lets him snatch it out of her hands and puts it back in its spot on the vanity she told him didn’t count as a vanity multiple times, rolling her eyes, “Yeesh. I’ll take that as a yes then.”

“If you’re going to tell on me Max, I swear to god-“ He starts, defensive, more vulnerability in his voice than intended, but Max insists honestly, the most not bratty she’s been since she stepped into his room, “I’m not, I wouldn’t.”

Though it doesn’t last very long, her not being a brat, because she immediately cracks a big smile and asks Billy, “Who is he though?”

“Mind your own, Max, Christ.” Billy blows her off, catching glimpse of himself in the mirror and taking note of the barely there flush to his cheeks, pointing to the door and telling his meddling step sister, “Out.”

“Awww, Billy-“ She tries to whine, but he cuts her off, “ No. Out. Of. My. Room.”

But Max offers quickly, like it’ll change his mind, “I’ll do your hair if you let me stay.”

And maybe it doesn’t immediately change his mind, but it does successfully stump him, because he’s asking her, equal parts genuine curiosity and sarcasm, “Why would I let you touch my hair?”

“No reason.” Max says, looking down at his carpet, definitely overplaying the bashfulness in bringing up her answer to appeal to Billy’s emotions, “I just thought, and maybe it’s stupid but like, most guys have their moms to fuss over them for prom, but, you know, you don’t, so I wanted to, I don’t know, be a good sister and do that for you or, whatever.“

Billy sighs, that had been exactly what he was thinking about all night last night, how his momma would be proud of him for finding a way to do this with the person, the boy he loved, and how she could’ve been there to do exactly what Max said, so he agrees, “Alright shitbird, guilt trip successful. You’re not kicked out.”

Max claps her hands together and sits on her brother's bed, getting all of Billy’s wrinkled button ups tossed at her from where they had been previously shoved, unfolded into a dresser drawer, and a command to, “Help me pick a shirt.”

She asks him while she’s unfolding all of his shirts he’d thrown at her and spreading them all out over Billy’s bed, “Are you going to button it.”

“What do you think?”

“Billy. It’s your prom.”

“Fine. One more button.”

“Two?” She tries to bargain, but he shuts it down again, making her giggle when he jokes, his tone level like it's a real threat, “One or I‘m going shirtless.”

“Then I pick.. this blue one.” Max says and puts her hand on a navy blue, quarter sleeve shirt after careful consideration of holding each button up up to Billy and thinking hard about it, but one more once over and she changes her mind, handing Billy a white shirt with snap buttons instead, “No, no, no, wait, this one with full sleeves is better. Yeah, that one for sure.”

“Sleeves it is.” Billy says taking the shirt and hanging it on the door so he’d remember to iron it, crudely shoving the rest of the button ups back into the drawer, and asking Max, “Will I need to wear like, a coat or something?”

She shrugs asking him smugly, “That depends on who it is.”

“Sensitive information.” Billy says immediately, when she looks like she’s going to argue shutting her down before she can say anything, “Which means I’m not tellin’ you.”

“Can I guess?” Max asks, making her case by reasoning with him sweetly, “Please? You wouldn’t be telling me that way.”

He genuinely considers it for a minute, and decides it’s whatever, in his head assuming there was no way Max would be able to figure it out, so he waves his hand with an eye roll, giving her the go ahead to start guessing.

Her first question is, “Okay, okay. Is it.. someone I know?”

“Yep.”

Max furrows her brow, and asks, “Do I like him?” To which Billy shrugs and responds, “Probably.”

“Um, is it…” Max snaps her fingers, an idea coming to her, “Is it Tommy?”

But again she’s shut down, because for somebody she’s supposed to probably like, she sure does a lot of complaining about Tommy, and he calls her on it, “Do you like Tommy?”

Max hums thoughtfully, taking a second guess, “I guess not. Is it Keith?”

Billy shakes his head, giving her the most confused look she’d ever seen on his face as he asks, or basically exclaims, “Who the fuck is Keith ?”

“Well excuuse me for not knowing a lot of guys around here!” Max says, defensive, making Billy roll his eyes again and turn back to digging through his drawers for a decent pair of jeans to wear with a button up, most of them stained and worn.

“Not Tommy, not Keith, who’s left?” She thinks hard then gasps, connecting something in her mind, a devious, knowing little smile on her face, “Is it Steve?”

Billy doesn’t answer her, quite frankly doesn’t know what he should say. It’s his fault, letting her guess between the only three boys his age in town she apparently knew, but now that Max knew who his mystery boyfriend was he wasn’t feeling so hot.

Honestly, some part of him is expecting Neil to come busting through the door any second, like this was some sort of run around way of finding him out, but after a few minutes of her squealing like teenage girls do, he realizes all he has to face is an excited little sister.

He flushes, and asks her over his shoulder, his forcing his tone to sound bored, “Are you done?”

“Yes.” Max says, nodding, but she smiles wide and dissolves into a fit of giggles again, covering her mouth with her hands when Billy crosses his arms, and insists, “Okay, okay, I’m done!”

“Good.” Billy says, but he can’t help cracking a smile. He angles his mirror down towards the floor and sits in front of it, telling his sister lightly to, “Help me with my hair then, shitbird.”

Max sits behind him, and runs her fingers through his hair, “You should’ve put curlers in it or something last night.”

Billy rolls his eyes, realizing as he does so for the dozen things time since Max barged in that she maybe learned that from him, deciding that doesn’t even warrant a response, and hands Max the comb and one of the many cans of hairspray off of his vanity.

She sits up on her knees, and brushes back the hairs just behind his ears that always frizz out and lose their curl, holding them at the back of his hair with a bobby pin, one of the blond ones she bought specifically for him so he could use them without immediately getting caught using ‘girly’ things, but had so far been too scared to anyways.

It looks strange on him, looks more like something Max would wear than him, but honestly he doesn’t hate it, so he lets her keep going, only frowning a little when she adds a pearl adorned hair clip, big enough it looks more like a fancy brooch, to the back of his hair.

She sprays it with so much hairspray it’s tacky, scrunching it up so his curls are tighter, and smoothing the sides so they won’t come unclipped.

When every curl is in its place and approved by Billy, who insists he’s not in the least bit emotional about what Max had said early, that thing about having nobody but her to fuss over him, she hops up, telling him to, “Wait one minute.” while she runs to her room.

She returns with her bulky pink Caboodles box, the one that has all of her mostly unused makeup in it, tapping him on the shoulder and telling him, “Alright, turn towards me.”

Her plan didn’t work though, at least he’s almost positive it was her plan to break down his defenses just so she could use him as her dress up doll anyways, but he isn’t having it, telling her quickly to “Put that shit away, Max.”

“Why? You wear makeup everyday.” Max observes simply, making Billy hiss and tell her to lower her voice, “Yeah, but never the extra strength shit that makes your eyelashes curly and your face pretty. Neil will sniff this out the second I step out of this room.”

Max just shrugs, “Then I’ll make sure he doesn’t see your face. It’s not a big deal.”

“He’ll make it into one.”

“I think your senior prom is an even bigger deal, though.”

Billy sighs, once again losing to her arguing skill, and turning to face her like she told him, “You owe me if I get caught like this.”

Max rolls her eyes and does her magic, each second that passes Billy regretting agreeing to turning the control of his appearance over to his little sister, expecting to come out of this looking like her Diva doll, fidgeting more and more the longer it takes her.

Just before he’s about to panic, Max tells him, “All done.” and lets him look in the mirror.

He blinks repeatedly at his own reflection, surprised to see he didn’t have sparkly eyeshadow up to his eyebrows or rouge on his cheeks, just a tasteful amount of lip gloss and a copper tint to his eyelids, framed by darker than usual eyelashes and the smallest bit of eyeliner.

She gets impatient after a few minutes of Billy not saying anything, and pushes his shoulders to turn him around again to look at her, staring at him until she decides what she thinks is missing.

She hurries to the upright jewelry box in her mother’s room, and brings him back a clip on pearl earring for his right ear, opposite the chain of silver stars she already picked for his left.

“Here, it’ll look better if you have earrings in both ears.” She reaches up, pushing his hair out of the way and clipping the earring on, letting him do the screw on the back himself so she didn’t make it too tight.

Billy lowers his hand and scrunches his nose, leaning in slightly towards the mirror, “They don’t match.”

“It looks nice though. You look really pretty.” She tells him honestly, not realizing the impact the simple compliment, though not so simple for somebody like him, has on her brother until he’s trying to subtly blink away tears behind mascara coated lashes, pretending like that wasn’t the case and telling her, “Whatever, it’s too late to change it now if you want to be on time.”

He does one last once over himself in the mirror, though he knows he’s going to be using his car windows for the same purpose at the last minute, and shoos Max out of his bedroom door, trying to hurry out of the house before Neil can stop him and see him all dolled up.

He’s got one hand around the door knob and his keys through his belt loop when his dad does stop him, his heart just about stopping as Neil calls from the other room, “Do you have flowers for the girl?”

“I have a corsage in the car.” Billy lies, hoping his tone is sure enough for Neil to buy it.

“Good. Just remember what I said, boy.” Neil says, still from the living room, so Billy lets his posture relax a bit and breathes out a quiet sight, saying casually, “Get Max to her friends, don’t spend any money, and don’t come home drunk, I got it, dad.”

“Watch the attitude, William.” Neil says low, the air going still for a minute until he adds, “And have fun tonight.”

“Yessir.” Billy says, ushering Max quickly out the front door, sighing when it closes behind them.

~~~~~~~

Billy drops Max off at the Wheeler’s, just driving around Hawkins until it’s time to show up at Steve’s, making sure to stop past the Holloway’s place just in case Neil went asking around wanting to know if anybody saw his car in the neighborhood.

At 8, he decides he doesn’t want to show up empty handed, buying Steve some flowers like he’d lied and said he had for Heather from Melvald’s, not understanding the knowing look the cashier lady has in her eye when he brings a dinky bouquet of flowers to the checkout counter.

He rings the doorbell at 8:30 on the dot, checking himself out one last time in Steve’s window while he waits, fifty cent roses held behind his back.

On the other side of the door, Steve stands in the dining room, now adorned with cheap party decorations that would’ve made his mother pitch a fit, waiting a whole thirty seconds before he goes to answer it, trying to collect himself first.

Billy smiles wide, and, as cheesy as it was, seeing him standing there all dressed up taking Steve’s breath away and stealing the words right off his tongue, Billy having to invite himself in because Steve was busy catching flies.

He hands him the flowers, nodding towards the silver tinsel wrapped around the banister, the stars hanging in the archway that lead into the living room that were almost identical to the ones they hung from the basketball hoops at school and saying, “Place looks nice.”

“Oh, uh, thanks.” Steve says, quickly adding, “You know, you look nice too.”

Billy smiles softly, looking at him with that ‘you’re an idiot Steve Harrington’ look he was so used to by now, “C’mon, Stevie, we’ve been dating for four months now, you don’t gotta be all awkward with me still.”

“I’m not, I mean it, you look really good, Billy.” Steve says, smiling now that it’s his turn to fluster Billy.

“Oh by the way, I almost forgot. Got you this just because.” He remembers, handing Billy a box with a floral pin inside, pink roses with lace, and telling him expectantly, “It’s a boutonnière.”

But Billy doesn't open it, just raises an eyebrow and says, “I thought you did corsages for prom?”

“Corsages are for the girls.”

“Ah. Got it.” He says it like he already knew that, like he was hoping maybe Steve didn’t, so Steve offers, not really understanding it, but knowing what he means all the same, “It came as a set, I still have the corsage upstairs, if you want it.”

Billy nods and pins the boutonnière to Steve’s shirt instead, explaining simply, “Just so we match.”

Steve runs upstairs and gets the corsage, giving Billy a minute to actually appreciate just how much went into decorating this place, snickering to himself when he imagines Steve having to stand on a step ladder to put the string lights so high up on the wall.

Steve tosses Billy the box from the top of the steps, letting him open it while he comes back down and ties it around his wrist, having to tie it twice because he put it on the wrong way the first time.

Billy asks him, shaking his wrist to make sure the bow is tight enough, “So what’s our official plan for tonight, Stevie?”

“Honestly I don’t really know. I’m sort of just winging it here, I don’t know what you even do at prom.”

“You never went at all?” Billy asks, surprised miss priss hadn’t dragged him along to their junior prom last year.

“Nope. Like I said, overrated.” Steve confirms, and Billy smiles wide, saying, “I’m sure I got a few ideas in mind then.”

~~~~~~~~

Billy’s idea basically consisted mainly of drinking all that fancy wine Steve had gotten out of the cellar specifically for this, shoving his tongue down Steve’s throat, and complaining about the real prom happening up at the school.

Honestly, Steve suspects things wouldn’t have been so different had they actually gone, but he can tell the fact that they weren’t able to go was still bothering Billy, judging by the sheer number of times he brings it up.

After what must be the tenth time that night Billy brought up Heather and Robin getting to go, Steve asks him, “Do you wish we were there?”

“No, that’s the thing. I couldn’t give a damn less about the whole dance, a thousand times over I’d rather just be here with you.”

“But?”

“But I wish we had the choice to go, you know? It’s just, bugging me that if we had genuinely wanted to go, we couldn’t’ve.” Billy rants, very obviously having been holding this in, “And I keep thinking about all the other gay kids who don’t have a big empty house or a safe place to do what we’re doin’.”

“Yeah, but it’s really not a big deal. Prom is pretty much all for the parents anyways, and the way I see it we, and all the other people like us, we’re so used to disappointing them, what’s it matter if we don’t go?”

“Just, I don’t care about the event or whatever, but it feels like we’re missing out on something. Like maybe we should’ve just swallowed our pride and went with Hetty and Robin anyways.”

Steve stands up abruptly, picking up their wine glasses and kicking the coffee table all the way over to the far wall to clear the floor, offering Billy his hand, “I know you feel like you’re robbing me of something by us not going, but we don’t need all of that for this to be good. I meant it when I said that’s superficial to me anyways. We can make it mean something to us.”

Billy looks up at him, still bothered deep down, but out of ways to argue about it, and accepts Steve’s hand, wrapping his arms around the back of his neck when he pulls him close by his waist.

It’s not really a slow dance as much as it is an excuse to just be close to one another, to breathe each other in and sneak kisses and be sappy, but that’s was this whole thing was about. They could’ve just hung out tonight if they wanted, and honestly they probably would’ve anyways, but they called it a prom, put that title to it that made both of their hearts pitapat.

Steve had always heard, even felt it a few times before, that when you were with the person you loved, everyone and everything else would melt away around you until it was just you, but somehow, this was different than that.

Because that would mean there were times when his world didn’t revolve around Billy, and that there was ever a moment when he could focus on anything but the boy he loved, and that just wasn’t true.

This wasn’t performative, wasn’t a relationship formed on the status of being able to show off that they were better for being in love either, this was simply Billy and Steve, dancing in their tennis shoes on Ruthie's carpet, snickering when a particularly sappy song came on the radio, barely able to be separated long enough to turn to side B, falling in love all over again under the stars.

~~~~~~~

When the wine bottles are all empty and the stack of records has been spun through, Steve’s schnockered, and insisting they get a picture, searching the house for an old Polaroid camera and making Billy stand with him in front of the fairy lights strung

They only had three chances to get a good picture, no new packs of film and only a few left in the camera, so Steve took all three.

The first one was upside down and so off center he was hardly in it, Steve being maybe a little more drunk than he thought, and the second Billy closed his eyes because the flash was too bright, but it didn’t matter too much anyways because the film didn’t develop properly and the picture was nothing but reddish-yellow tinted blackness anyways.

The third one by some chance turns out fine, maybe a little blurred because he moved and still not quite centered right, but it’s a picture, something to hold onto the memory of this night forever when the hangover wore off and things got a little blurry, and that was important to the both of them, for different reasons.

As soon as it develops, a little 8 by 10 of Billy kissing his cheek, Steve runs upstairs to hang it on the cork board above his desk before it gets misplaced, dating it and doodling a little heart with a S+B inside it, hiding the picture behind a ribbon for a middle school art contest and a picture of him and his parents.

Billy hooks his chin over his shoulder, his hands traveling a bit lower than Steve’s waist this time as he watches what he’s doing. He hums and asks, when Steve stands up straighter and turns in his arms to face him, “So? What have you got planned for the after prom, Stevie?”

#stranger things fanfiction #harringrove #billy x steve #billy & max #steve harrington #billy hargrove #max mayfield #ej writer #story by ej! #slipped in the teensiest bit of billy w/ ocd because i can #also gnc billy #there’s a lot more characters but they don’t have major enough roles to tag #posted to ao3 yesterday

[flyawayrachel]

Sometimes when I'm having a particularly hard day excepting my lot I go back and read this little thing I wrote a few months after leaving my family to remind me that I made the right decision. Idk why I am choosing to post this today but I've never posted it anywhere before. I've never been quiet about who I am and what I came from and sometimes it's nice to just get the feelings put there.

My whole life I had never been allowed to make decisions for myself, so why now, was it up to me to make the biggest decision of my life?

What school I could attend, what major I could study, what clothes I could wear, what teachers I could take, what jobs I could have, who I could speak to, who I could be friends with, what bank I used, what hair style I had, what nickname I could go by, what music I could listen to...all these things were policed since I was born, and the first decision I got to make solo was the most world defining decision I'll ever make.

Since then I've made a lot of decisions about myself, some little and some huge, but each one comes with a hill to climb. Through this series of decisions I've come to discover a little more about myself and who I am, a long painful process of deciding for myself.

The first decision.

It was a Sunday. I was expected to attend three morning protests and church at 11:30am, my father would be giving the weekly sermon. This Sunday, however, was different. For the first time in my life, I had a separate obligation. I chose, or tried to choose, to skip church that week.

This was not my first decision as it was reviewed by my parents and shut down.

It was 7am that Sunday morning, and I jumped out of bed, got dressed, and headed to work. I had discussed the days events with my parents two nights prior, today we had a fundraiser. A local family had just lost their daughter to brain cancer, and for once in my life I felt I had the power to do good, instead of spread hate. This was a huge deal to everyone there, and the community surrounding us. I was excited. As a new business, this would be great for us. We'd learn how to handle big crowds of people, we'd all bond over the stress of the situation, we'd have a great time, and we'd be doing good. I got to the restaurant around 7:45, and jumped into work. We had a LOT to do. I was anxious, I knew I was doing something I shouldn't...or at least something my parents don't approve of. It wasn't until 9:21 I heard from them

"Are you planning to miss church today?" My father text me.

"I'm planning to make it back, but if we get people in at 11, I probably won't be able to." I replied

"OK this doesn't really work for me. You aren't at a spot in life where this should be getting asked of you and this was supposedly made clear when you joined. If they cannot respect your need to be in the Lords house you need to find other employment. We need to talk about this"

Fear. Fear was all I could feel. I cried. Knowing exactly what "We need to talk about this meant" it wouldn't be a conversation with just me and him. Or me him and my mother, it would be everyone. Every adult member of our church would sit me down, accuse me of all manner of wrong doing, scream, yell, and refuse to acknowledge anything I said and brush it off as if I was a liar. A decision they had made for me when I was not even a teenager yet. At 11 years old I had been pegged as a liar and forced into seclusion by the church all because my mother, forgetful as ever, had forgotten a conversation I had with her a few weeks prior to it all coming to light. "If they're too scared to talk to me(referring to my older brother as I) then they can't speak to anyone" an aunt of mine had said, and her word was regarded as law at that point. Months of silence on my part followed. I became solemn and bitter after that. My social skills had been destroyed and I would never get over what they'd done to me. The happy little girl was gone, and in their eyes, she never existed. I was ridiculed for years because of this change in demeanor.

I received several phone calls from my parents that morning. I answered none of them. So my mother chimed in...it was 9:57:

"It is not ok for you to miss Church today. We need to have a serious discussion today about what's going on with you."

Again the threat of intervention.

I had to go home. My boss rolled his eyes, dispite his knowledge of my situation he couldn't help but be annoyed that his second hand was leaving, right before open, on what would be our busiest day ever. When I left, there was already a line at the door. I later learned they filled the restaurant within seven minutes of opening the doors. It didn't stop until we closed that night.

My dad gave the sermon that day. It was long. Nearly double the normal length of our weekly meeting. I couldn't tell you if it was purposefully, knowing him it probably wasn't, but that didn't help my view of the situation. Once church was over, I spead down the highway back to work, it was nearly 2pm by the time I got back. It was chaos. People everywhere, we were running out of things, and the dishwashers they'd pulled to prep just couldn't keep up. I was put in charge of running prep and we prepped and prepped and prepped. Ticket times were awful and I don't think we ever got out of the weeds, even now I feel the effects of that day on our staff. I remember at one point I was apologizing to one of our cooks, who we affectionately refer to as "Mom".

"I don't know if I can stay there any more" I'd said. For the first time in my life, I'd admitted to someone that I didn't see a future for me in the church. I'd been toiling with the feeling for years, but it wasn't until early February that I'd realized that I couldn't stay. "Get through school" I'd tell myself. With two years of school left, and my whole life crumbling, I knew I wouldn't last.

"If you need a place to go, I have a spare bedroom. You're welcome there" she replied.

I was floored. Being told your whole like that the world is against you, you learn to accept that, but this woman, this mother of three, had just offered to open her door to me, no questions asked.

We closed at 8.

Once it died down I sat at the bar with my chef. The foh manager behind the bar, pouring them both drinks. I can't tell you the exact words that were spoken, what, if any, words of encouragement were given to me, but while sitting there, I made my first decision. It was time to go. I remember thinking that I needed permission from someone, anyone, to do this, but it never came. My chef never told me I should, our foh manager never told me I should, no one told me to do it. I had to decide, and decide I did.

Once I got home late that night I told my sister. I didn't tell her I would leave immediately. I just told her I couldn't stay and she was always welcome to join me when she got older. I remember telling her there are other ways and places that we can serve the Lord without being subjected to the cruel glares and sneers of those around us. We had discussed often the wrong doings of the "Elders" of our church. I thought she'd understand and maybe she did, but she was hesitant. She was only a child after all, 13 years old, but had already been through hell and back with these people.

The next day I packed. I used the pretence that I was cleaning out my room and giving a bunch of my clothes to Goodwill, an instruction my father had given me a few days prior. This came only months after my mom had my siblings strip my room of much of my belongings and furniture while I was in class one evening. Many garbage bags full of clothes with other items hidden within made their way to the car. It was hard. Making the decision on what to keep and what to leave behind. I had collected many things from many different fan bases I considered myself a part of, while much had been taken from me I still had decisions to make. A lot got left behind. It was now Monday. I didn't work Mondays so I had all day to work. At 8pm we all sat down for our evening reading. I remember choking back tears realizing this would be the last time I sat in a room along side all six of my siblings and my parents in an amicable manner, still, the looming threat of these "talks" overtook me with fear. Once we were done and we'd said our evening prayer I went up to my room. I cried. I cried for the hurt I would do my dad, it was a common joke in the house that I was his favorite. His first little girl. The years I'd miss watching my baby brother grow up. The betrayal my sister would feel when she woke up the next morning. Knowing that in the following weeks every inkling of my existence would be stripped from the house, I still wonder what became of my old bedroom. Did my sister take it like she'd joked about when I would tell her I was dying from a migraine or dealing with a particularly hard day at work? Would my mom take it and use it as an office or spare bedroom for when my dad snored too loud as she often did when I would sleep over at my cousin Vicky's house?

My mom left the house at 4:30am. I was awake before she left. Silently selecting the last few items I would take with me. I wrote two notes. One of apology to my sister for leaving her here in a cave full of wolves. One to my dad, asking to be left alone and explaining that there had been irreparable damage done by other members of the church and that I did not believe their doctrine. I wrap my house key, pink and bedazzled with fake diamonds because my dad picked it out and never really got who I was back then, and copy of their credit card in it and stuck it in his cubby before walking out the door, tears still wet on the paper from when I wrote it. I only had one chance, as all windows and doors on our house sent chimes throughout the 10 bedroom, 6 bathroom, three kitchen home when opened. I got in my car, contemplated my decision one last time, and I left.

I sat at my job for hours alone, drinking ginger ale and eating sourdough bread. Wishing the nausea would go away. Not long after getting there I received a message from my dad. He would not ask me to come home, but extended the invitation to talk if I thought it would solve the problem and I could continue living under their rule. Reiterating the fact that they would not be changing for me. If I left I was going to be on my own. I spent the morning crying as I went about directing prep work for the week, we had a lot to recover from and my personal turmoil couldn't distract me from my work. Hours later my mom showed up. It was on the way home from the early morning yoga class she had taught, which is why she left the house so early. I couldn't recount the exact words said because I was to distracted by the way she was speaking to me. I was a stranger now. She's a lawyer and treated me like a client, taking notes as we spoke with no regard to my emotions or well being. She'd always counted the days to my 18th birthday, the only hope she'd rid me from her life forever. This was her chance.

The months following were hard. I had a lot of decisions to make and no one to guide me. The people who swore to make it easier only made it harder, but I bonded with the least expected people, some of which continue to be my greatest friends even to today. It was a decision that I don't regret, not even on the hardest days, the days I mourn the time lost with my loved ones and the very real possibility they'll never come back to me. The nights I sit up scrounging the internet for any glimpse into their current lives, or when I read people's"hot takes" about who they think they are, often getting it wrong and seeing my family as a one dimensional group of haters. I've made the decision to me myself and it's a decision I'll stand by until the day I die, eternity be damned.

#My life #wbc #westboro baptist church #please be respectful

[kookiebunnii]

d4u || a-tier healthcare

aug. 2018. finally moved back in today. i needed to get something for classes this year, but jungkook’s gone and hurt himself again. i swear the boy barely functions when he stays up all night playing overwatch. if he keeps this up, well, he better like hello kitty band-aids. 

pairing: best friend!jungkook x reader

genre: slice of life

word count: 1.4k

warnings: brief mentions of blood (like .2 seconds worth)

Most people you knew absolutely dreaded when school started. As soon as August and September roll around like a couple of snickering troublemakers, your fellow collegians would weep knowing that classes and exams were about to insert themselves into their schedules. It meant that summer, and all the freedom and laughter associated with it, was coming to an end. Instead of enjoying the bright sunshine and baby blue skies every day, the scenery was being replaced with drab grey walls and chairs that felt uncomfortable no matter how you sat.

Surprisingly enough, it didn’t really bother you all that much. You had spent summer working full-time at a relative’s restaurant as a waitress, meaning that you never got the chance to really take a vacation. The three months you were blessed with passed by like a blur. They were filled with placating tipsy adults or bawling infants, carrying as many plates as you could in your arms without spilling mystery sauce all over yourself, and bringing yourself to smile consistently on an 8-hour shift. It was far from an ideal summer, to say the least. In fact, you were relieved that classes were starting. Now, you could work and learn about concepts you were actually interested in. Besides, it also meant that you would get to move back into your apartment near university, which you shared with Jungkook. The boy loved traveling and spent most of his time jumping from one destination to another, filming small videos for G.C.F. You could count on one hand the amount of times you spent physically with him over the break, and as much as it pained you to admit—you missed watching him embarrass himself on the daily.

Late August was still warm, teetering curiously between summer and the beginning of autumn. You had just finished moving back into your place, feeling refreshed with a shower after the long trip. Deciding to head out and do some stationary shopping before preparing dinner, you pulled on your favorite shoes. It wasn’t like you needed anything in particular, since you’d keep the same 3-subject notebook from last year-- but the store you loved always had the cutest animal-shaped post-its. Surely it couldn’t hurt to find some (FaveAnimal) ones for this quarter, just to start off on the right foot.

Humming to yourself, you bounded down the stairs of your complex while double-checking your pockets for all your personal items. As you walked at a leisurely pace, you began wondering what Jungkook could be doing at this hour. You saw that his things were already back in his room, meaning that he was back for school as well. Maybe you’d make some pasta for the two of you when you get back, since he always liked when you cooked for him.

“Y/N!”

Hearing your name causes you to look up, realizing that the familiar saying really was true: speak (or in this case ‘think’) of the Devil and he shall appear.

“Guk?” you ask, observing the way he’s slightly favoring his left side as he walks towards you, “You good?”

You can see him wince as he approaches, but still trying hard to brush the pain off with a silly grin, “Not exactly.”

Pulling at his wrist, you realize that the skin on the side of his hand is broken and bloody. There’s dirt and bits of granite adhering to his skin, streaks of dried blood all over. You stay silent as you look down to observe his knee, seeing that his jeans are ripped with red stains that definitely weren’t part of any fashion statement. He had hurt his knee as well.

“Did you fall?” you guess, letting go of his arm to look him in the eyes questioningly.

“I bought a penny board over the summer since my classes are sorta far from each other this quarter. Guess I need more practice,” he shrugs nonchalantly before walking in the direction of your apartment, waving you away.

Frowning as you watch his back retreat where you came, you realize that by being the stupid worrywart you are, you only had one real choice in this scenario.

Sorry cute stationary, mommy’s gonna have to reschedule.

Sprinting to catch up with him, you silently walk beside him as the two of you head back inside the apartment. Even though he struggles up the stairs a little, you don’t hold him up or anything like that. You know that he hates when people treat him like a kid, so you’ve grown accustomed to accepting his stubbornness. Unless he’s literally on death’s door or asks for your help, you let him be responsible for himself.

Leaning his new penny board against the doorway, he enters the apartment with a sigh before heading to the bathroom to clean his wounds. Clicking your tongue like a disapproving mother, you head to the kitchen to look for the first-aid kit. After a couple of mishaps involving the kitchen knife and your clumsy fingers, you learned that that was the best place to keep it.

Pulling out some bandages, rubbing alcohol wipes, and anti-scarring cream, you follow him into the bathroom.

From the faucet, water runs over his hand as he gently brushes blood and dirt away from the injury. You can tell it hurts by the way his jaw is tight, and a small part of you feels bad to see him in any sort of pain…even if that pain is probably due to him trying out a trick he saw on Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater or something.

“Give me.”

You grab his hand and turn off the faucet. Patting his hand dry with his towel hanging from the side, you look at it closely to make sure the opening in his skin is relatively clean. Satisfied, you open up an alcohol swab and smile widely, “This is gonna hurt a lot!”

“Why am I not surprised that you seem to be happy saying that? Whatever…just hurry up” he looks at you blankly, but you can still feel his arm tense at your words.

You start with a quick and heavy swipe, and to his credit, he doesn’t even flinch. You follow up with more gentle administrations before tossing the wipe into the trash. The anti-scarring scream is cooling, so he’ll probably enjoy it a bit more.

After finishing up his hand, you let it go and catch his round, brown eyes staring at you. You stare back for two seconds before sticking your tongue out and causing him to laugh.

“Alright string bean, show me those kneecaps,” you roll up your sleeves to show that you mean business.

“On the first date? Damn,” he whistles before starting to unbutton his jeans.

“Alright I guess you’ll be handling your knee yourself.”

Closing the door behind you, you can literally feel the amusement radiating from him in waves through the wood. It was a wonder to you that he could be so casual and teasing with you, but once he sees a pretty female within a 10-mile radius, he’d act like a frightened rabbit. After all these years with him, he probably didn’t even see you as a woman. It didn’t particularly bother you, since you were just as friendly with him as he was with you. He’s seen you walk around the house with bed hair and dark circles, so you never felt the need to be cautious or nervous around him. The two of you cared for each other in a comfortable, relaxed way.

As you pull out tomatoes and fresh herbs from the fridge, you hear Jungkook leaving the bathroom. He fills up his favorite Overwatch mug with some water and takes loud gulps as you begin cutting your ingredients and boiling a large pot of water over the stove for the spaghetti.

“Pasta?”

You make a noise of affirmation. He gives the top of your head a few gentle pats which you understood as him thanking you for everything. You stop in mid-chop to pat his hand atop your head in response to let him know that it wasn’t a big deal at all. The beginnings of his special bunny smile start creeping in, and you resist the urge to tickle him to hide your own embarrassment. Just as you open your mouth to say something, he messes up your hair and runs into his room before you can get a punch in.

You wonder if he’s actually 21 this year or 11.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

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[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #51: Sakata Kintoki

Today on Fate and Phantasms, we’re building Mama Raikou’s golden boy and lover of all things golden, Sakata Kintoki! Kintoki is a Sorcerer/Barbarian with a level of druid(we had to get Speak with Animals from somewhere), with flashy attacks and a golden personality.

Check out the level-by-level breakdown below the cut, or the golden summary over here.

Race and Backround

Sakata Kintoki is half-youkai half-dragon, so definitely not a human for once. We’ll make him the most golden of playable races, the Gold Dragonborn. This gives him +2 Strength, +1 Charisma, Fire Resistance, and a Breath Weapon that deals 2d6 fire damage in a 15′ cone, with a dexterity save to take half damage. You can use it once per day, and it has a save DC of 8+your constitution modifier + your proficiency. That number’s going to come up a lot, so write it down.

Kintoki was raised by a witch out in the mountains, so he’s an Outlander, getting proficiency in Athletics and Survival. Turns out having a cannibal for a mother seriously stunts your social growth as a kid.

Stats:

Your highest stat is going to be your Strength. You saw that pic at the top of this post, right? He’s clearly pretty beefy. Second to your strength is your Constitution, your golden body is doing you many favors here. Your eyes are beautiful enough to distract oni, and you’re also a really nice guy overall, so your Charisma is third. Dexterity is fourth; it’s not bad, but we need other stuff more. Your Wisdom is fifth: animals tend to like you, but you also have a habit of killing them. Finally, dump Intelligence. This isn’t because of your Madness Enhancement; you just never had a proper education, bar one from Raikou who is another berserker.

Class Levels:

1. Barbarian 1: Kintoki is (surprise surprise) a barbarian! Your golden muscles give you an Unarmored Defense based on your dexterity can constitution, and you can Rage to resist physical damage, gain advantage on strength checks, and deal extra damage with strength based attacks.

First level barbarians are proficient in Strength and Constitution saves, and two barbarian skills. You can literally talk to animals, so Animal Handling is a shoe-in. You also hunt them, which is pretty intimidating, so Intimidation is also a good pick.

For weapons, grab a Battleaxe. Your weapon might not be as big as herc’s, but you can charge it up with the golden power of lightning! Later.

2. Sorcerer 1: Your dad was a dragon, and your race only gave fire powers, so you had to know this was coming. In your story he was a red dragon, but we’ll have to change things around to get lightning powers. Your dad wasn’t that golden, both in the sense that he’s Bronze here, and in the sense that the only time he shows up in your story is when you’re conceived.

Having a bronze Dragon Ancestor doubles your proficiency (where applicable) for charisma checks involving dragons. Your Draconic Resilience gives you an extra HP when you take a sorcerer level, and gives you an unarmored AC of 13+your dexterity modifier. That doesn’t stack with your barbarian defense, but it is better than it right now.

You also get Spells at this level, cast with your charisma. At first level, you get four cantrips, and two first level spells. Booming Blade lets you charge up your ax to force enemies to stay where you can see them, dealing thunder damage if they move the turn after you hit. Friends is your first application of your special eyes, letting you charm others. Light lets you wrap an item in golden lightning to help your dumb lizard eyes see in the dark, and Shocking Grasp lets you apply a nasty surprise to those dorks who fight with a shirt on, and gets rid of their reactions.

For first level spells, Witch Bolt lets you arc your lightning at a distance, using your action to continue the attack. Expeditious Retreat lets you dash as a bonus action while concentrating, giving you a golden opportunity to blast into the thick of combat.

3. Barbarian 2: Second level barbarians can make Reckless Attacks, letting you make a golden strike this turn, but puts you in a distinctly ungolden position until your next turn. You also get a Danger Sense, giving you advantage on dexterity saving throws that you can see the cause of, like spells and traps. Seeing them might be tricky with those sunglasses though.

4. Sorcerer 2: Second level sorcerers are a Font of Magic, gaining sorcery points equal to their level that they can use to regain spell slots without rests. Speaking of spells, Charm Person lets you charm a person with those special eyes of yours. Just be careful where you point them.

5. Barbarian 3: Third level barbarians set down a primal path. Storm Herald barbarians get one of three Storm Auras, which extend out from them by 10′ and cause effects with a DC that is the same as your breath weapon (8+constitution modifier + proficiency). When you start your rage, and as a bonus action while raging, you can call down lightning on one enemy within range, forcing a dexterity save to prevent half of 1d6 Lightning damage.

6. Barbarian 4: Use your first ASI to round out your Strength for bigger hits and bump up your Wisdom by one. I promise we’re going somewhere with this.

7. Barbarian 5: Fifth level barbarians get an Extra Attack, letting you make two weapon attacks per attack action. Buster cards are great, but you have to switch it up every once in a while. Multiple attacks are good for you. You also get Fast Movement, adding 10′ to your movement speed while wearing less than heavy armor.

8. Sorcerer 3: Third level sorcerers get Metamagic, the golden feature of sorcery that lets you customize your spells. Empowered Spell lets you reroll a number of damage dice from a spell, up to your charisma modifier. Rolling a bunch of ones isn’t golden, so just don’t do it. Elemental Spell from the Class Feature Variants UA lets you swap out the acid, cold, fire, or thunder damage from a spell and replace it with lightning for only 1 sorcery point. There’s more you can do with it, but that’s what we’re using it for. Your golden soul causes all your magic to be just as golden.

For your spell, Enhance Ability makes one of your or a creature you target’s ability checks golden for up to a minute with concentration. If you choose strength, the target’s carrying capacity is doubled, dexterity lets them fall up to 20 feet without taking damage, and constitution gives them some temporary HP.

9. Barbarian 6: Sixth level storm heralds get a Storm Soul. Your golden soul lets you resist lightning damage, breathe underwater, and gives you a 30′ swimming speed. I don’t think those last two come up in FGO, but your Wikipedia article does show baby you hanging out on the back of a fish, so you’re at least good at holding your breath.

10. Sorcerer 4: Use your next ASI to bring your Wisdom up to multiclassing standards. For spells, grab the cantrip Acid Splash. All your attacks so far only target one person, so being able to lob a couple golden bombs around thanks to Elemental spell could come in handy. If you continue to insist on wearing your sunglasses indoors, you’ll also need to have Darkvision on hand if you want to see anything.

11. Druid 1: Kintoki was kind of a wild child, so why not have a bit of magic from the wilds? First level druids know Druidic, a written language indecipherable to non-druids. You also get a couple spells that are cast with wisdom. Thunderclap to make even more noise, and Resistance to make yourself just a bit tougher. You can also prepare first level spells now, but we’re just here for Speak With Animals.

12. Barbarian 7: Seventh level barbarians have a Feral Instinct, ensuring all your initiative rolls stay golden. Being surprised isn’t golden, so you can also ignore that if you rage immediately on your first turn.

13. Barbarian 8: Use your next ASI for more Constitution for better lightning, fire, and HP. Constitution’s just a really good stat for you, huh?

14. Barbarian 9: Ninth level barbarians get a Brutal Critical, letting you add 1 extra die to an attack when you roll a natural 20. You were always golden, but now you shine just a bit brighter.

15. Barbarian 10: Tenth level storm heralds have a Shielding Storm, letting you extend your lightning resistance to other creatures of your choice within your Storm Aura. Look at your party, now back to me. Now back to your party. Now your party is golden too.

16. Barbarian 11: Eleventh level barbarians go into a Relentless Rage, meaning if you drop to 0 hp while raging you can make a constitution save to not do that. A success leaves you at 1 hp, and the DC of the save goes up until your next rest.

17. Barbarian 12: Use your last ASI to bump up your Charisma for a stronger force of personality and better sorcerer saves.

18. Sorcerer 5: Fifth level dragon sorcerers have an Elemental Affinity, letting you add your charisma modifier to the damage of spells that deal Lightning damage. When casting such a spell, you can also spend 1 sorcery point to resist lightning damage for an hour, but you already do that for free.

Speaking of spells that deal lightning damage, Lightning Bolt deals a lot of lightning damage, and reaches up to 100 feet away from you, while also setting everything it hits on fire.

19. Barbarian 13: We’re almost done here, but your Brutal Critical adds another die to your golden crits. 

20. Barbarian 14: With your final level, you become a Raging Storm. Sea-based storm heralds force creatures within their aura to make a strength save when hit. On a failure, they’re knocked prone. The book says it’s “as if [they were] struck by a wave”, but let’s be real for a golden moment. You’re a golden guy swinging around a big, golden ax. Of course people are gonna be falling over you.

Pros: 

You have pretty good range for a berserker, with your lightning blasts covering way more ground in a turn than you could. 

You resist a lot of common damage types: bludgeoning, piercing, and slashing while in a rage, and fire and lightning naturally. That’ll make your generous health pool go a long way. 

Unlike most builds that focus on using one type of damage, you have a lot of regular strength to back it up. Even if you run into something with immunity to lightning damage you’ve still got a big ax to stick in its face.

Cons: 

Like with Spartacus, rages and magic don’t blend together well. 

Your AC is really low since it didn’t get any improvements while leveling up. Even worse, we can’t just put on better armor to deal with it thanks to that one level of druid. It’s a good thing you resist most of the damage you’ll be taking, because you’ll be taking a lot. 

Your spells/spell-like abilities split up your casting abilities, so you’re not as golden as you could be at either. The saves on both your rage lightning and spell lightning aren’t bad, but they could’ve been higher if you’d have focused on just one.

Still, you don’t have to be the best, just be your best. Now go out there and make your mama proud.

Next up: We’re doing the monster mash!

#fgo #Fate Grand Order #Fate and Phantasms #dnd 5e #sakata kintoki

[soobiniebaby]

Angels & Devils Part XI : I’m Yours, You’re Mine

A n g e l s   &   D e v i l s || Tomorrow x Together Fanfiction

~ p a r t s : main post || prologue || part 1 || part 2 || part 3 || part 4 || part 5 || part 6 || part 7 || part 8 || part 9 || part 10 || part 11 || part 12 || part 13 || part 14 || part 15 || part 16 || part 17 ~ p a i r i n g : love triangle involving choi soobin and choi yeonjun  ~ g e n r e : high school au | some social media au | some fluff & angst | childhood friends | love triangle  ~ l a n g u a g e : English  ~ w a r n i n g : contains swearing, alcohol, kissing (?) and may contain mature themes (angst, etc.)  ~ a / n : This will be my first fanfic (go easy on me pls) and i’m just writing this as I go along, so bear with me juseyo The setting (place/country) of the story is up to the reader’s interpretation ~ s u m m a r y : What should she choose? Han Baby: the new girl with a troubled past MO Academy: her new high school Choi Soobin: student council president, member of the Ecosave club, volunteer at the Humane Treatment of Animals, member of the Honor Society, a vocalist in the Jazzed club, the school’s all around golden boy Choi Yeonjun: leader of the Dance club, star of the Jazzed club, the school’s it boy with a bad rep 5 best friends, 1 new girl, 1 childhood friendship, 1 epic love triangle? What will this school year bring?

Over the weekend, B and Kai had spent most of their time lounging around the living room, finishing the entire season of It’s Okay to Not Be Okay on Netflix on Saturday and having a movie marathon on Sunday. They ordered all their meals and had all the food they wanted delivered to the apartment, their food cravings ranging from donuts and milk tea to egg tarts and mint chocolate ice cream. It felt like one of the many sleepovers they used to have when they were kids, only now it was just the 2 of them in a place of their own, without nosy siblings or strict parents to bother them or tell them what they could or couldn’t do.

Other than stuffing their faces with food and drowning their emotions in Netflix, they finally had all the time in the world to do all the catching up that they hadn’t been able to, asking questions and telling stories about what they had missed out on each other’s lives through the years.

“First kiss?” B asks.

“Oh, I think I was in the 7th grade, and it was with Im Yeojin. You?”

“Lucas Wong. A couple of years ago.” B responds.

Kai shakes his head. “That guy was your first kiss ever? Lucas? Your ex?”

B nods. “The one and only. Next question please?”

“Alright, worst ex?” Kai asks intentionally.

“Ningning, you know I’ve only had 1 boyfriend.”

“Yes, and he was the worst! He had the audacity to cheat on you! And all because you wouldn’t ‘put out?’ He's lucky I lived 3 hours away or else I would’ve kicked his ass.” Kai says, huffing.

B laughs, trying to swallow down the lump in her throat that formed whenever she talked about her horrible ex boyfriend. There was so much more to their relationship than him cheating on her cause she wouldn’t put out, but she wasn’t ready to let her best friend know all about it just yet. “Thanks, but judging by the size of his biceps, I don’t think that could’ve ever happened anyway.”

Kai pouts. “Are you saying I should start going to the gym?”

B laughs at him dismissively before changing the subject.

Also, sharing a living space with another person was also a bit of an adjustment for B since she had already gotten used to living alone. Her apartment only had one bathroom which she now shared with Kai, and now she had to keep all her personal toiletries set aside and her feminine hygiene products kept away, not wanting a repeat of the horrifying moment when her best friend walked out of the bathroom with his face all red.

“What happened to you?” she had asked, noticing how flushed he looked after being in the bathroom for 20 minutes.

“You know that when I’m, um, taking a shit I like to read the back of labels of whatever I see in the bathroom, right?” Kai starts slowly.

“Okay, weird, but go on.”

He takes a big gulp before continuing. “Well, let’s just say I now know how to properly put on a tampon. And let me just say, I’m glad I wasn’t born a woman.”

After that incident, B made sure to keep all feminine hygiene products hidden away in the bathroom cabinets. She ensured to leave a stack of random books and magazines on the bathroom counters so Kai would have something to read when doing his business. Other than that, B also had to remind herself that it was no longer socially acceptable to walk around her apartment in nothing but a tshirt and underwear on, since she had gotten used to roaming the space without worrying about other people seeing what she looked like. She usually went to bed in just a shirt and underwear and roll out of bed and straight into the kitchen for breakfast without a care in the world. Now, she had to double check and make sure that she was wearing bottoms and a bra before stepping out of her bedroom.

Even though there were many things she hadn’t considered before inviting a guy to stay in her apartment, she had to admit that it was nice to have company around. She hadn’t realized how lonely it was to live alone until Kai had come along, and now she was already sort of dreading the day when he’d get better and move out. She was starting to consider finding a room mate before then, knowing that she’d feel lonely once her company had to leave.

Come Monday morning, B woke up feeling excited. She rolled out of bed, put on a pair of shorts, and made her way to the kitchen, only to be surprised by the sight of breakfast already prepared on the table. A plate full of bacon and sunny side up eggs, a bowl full of fresh fruit and cereal, and a glass of blue lemonade were all neatly laid out on the table, and Kai was sitting there with an apron still tied around his waist. When he saw B step out from her room, he immediately greeted her “Wakey wakey Baba, time to go back to school!”

B rubs the sleep from her eyes, making sure she wasn’t just dreaming that Kai had prepared breakfast for her. Once the smell of freshly cooked bacon filled wafted in the air, she immediately brightens up and walks on over to give her best friend a hug.

“Ningning, you did all this for me? Thank you so much!” she says in awe.

“Yup, I wanted to make it special since it’ll be your first day back at MOA today.” Kai says. “Now hurry up before it gets cold. You have to be ready in 40 minutes.”

B all but gobbles up all the food that Kai had prepared for her before jumping into the shower, drying her hair, putting on some make up and changing into her school uniform, making sure she had everything she needed before letting Kai walk her to the front door.

“Have fun, Baba!” Kai says.

“Sure thing. Make sure to keep the door locked and call me if you need anything.” she says, waving goodbye before making her way downstairs to meet Taehyun.

As soon as Taehyun sees her, his eyes visibly light up.

“B! Finally, I’ve missed you so much.” he says, waving hello before stretching his arms out towards her. “Come here!”

B excitedly runs up, preparing to hug Taehyun, until at the last minute he folds his hands across his chest and takes a step back, which stops her in her tracks.

“On second thought, don’t touch me. You may be medically cleared already, but since Hyuka’s staying with you, you might still be carrying the pox.” he says. It’s only then when she notices that he was wearing a face mask and had a small spray bottle of alcohol hanging from his school ID lace.

She smiles at him sheepishly. “I missed you too, you know.” she says, opting to wrap her arms around her own torso instead.

He laughs at her silly antics before following suit, wrapping his arms around himself. “Let’s just pretend that we’re hugging right now.”

B nods. “Alrighty. Thanks, Tyun.”

“Don’t mention it. Now come on, put on your face mask and make sure you have hand sanitizer before we go.” he says, adjusting the mask on his face.

She puts on a mask and puts a small bottle of hand sanitizer in her pocket before they start making their way to school.

“I’ve missed these walks of ours.” B says happily, breathing in the morning air.

“I’ve missed them too. And I’ve missed you. School was a bit boring without you, and walking to school alone just didn’t feel the same.”

“How have things at MOA been, apart from the health protocols? And how are the guys?” B asks.

“Apart from the implementation of health protocols, school has pretty much been the same. The guys miss you. I think they’re excited to see you.” Taehyun responds.

“I miss them too.” B says, sighing. She and Yeonjun had FaceTimed every night through the weekend, but she missed him, and she felt a bit sad that they had to cancel their supposed last date. She had to admit that she missed the other guys too. “What makes you think they’re excited to see me, though?”

“They told me to ask you if you could meet them by the front gate of MOA before classes start this morning.” Taehyun says.

“Oh? They did? Weird, but okay. I wonder why.” B says, trying to think of why they might want to meet up. “How have you been? Has anything in your life changed in the past week?” she asks.

Taehyun shrugs. “Not really, same old same old. Just the usual studying at school and working at the café.” he says. “What about you? How have you been doing?”

B shrugs too, mimicking his response. “I’ve been good, nothing much going on.” she says casually, which was a lie. She wanted to tell him about Yeonjun and about how he asked her out and all the dates he put together, but a part of her was scared about how he’d react, so she thought it would be better to tell him when the time was right.

As she and Taehyun approach the campus, her eyes catch sight of 3 familiar figures standing right outside of the gates, particularly to the head of blue hair.

B feels her heart jump out of her chest, speeding up her walking, and Taehyun runs to catch up to her as she starts waving her arms in the air the closer they got until the 3 boys look up in her direction and they all wave back.

“Seriously, you 3, why aren’t you wearing face masks?” Taehyun says as they meet the 3 boys outside the gate.

“Well good morning to you too, Tyun.” Beomgyu says playfully. “Relax, we’re not within campus grounds so we don’t have to wear masks yet.”

B laughs at their banter. “I think Tyun’s just worried that you’ll catch Kai’s chicken pox germs if you stand too close to me without a mask on.” she jokes. “So, why are we meeting up here outside the gates instead of at the front steps like we usually do?”

“Hey, B! Good to see you again.” Beomgyu says.

“Well, you see, there are new health protocols set in place on campus right now, and as members of the student council, we can never be caught violating any rules set within the school.” Yeonjun begins, smiling at her brightly, like there was a secret that only the 2 of them shared.

“Alright, and…?” B asks, not sure where they were going with this.

“And before we go in and start off another week of school, there’s just this 1 health protocol we’d like to violate.” Beomgyu continues.

“Okay, which one? Is it the face mask thing? Why are we standing outside the school gates?” B asks, still confused.

“So we can do this.” Soobin says, before taking a step towards B with arms outstretched and pulling her into him, his whole body engulfing her in a hug.

He feels time stop the moment his arms wrap themselves around her body, her face buried in his chest, the top of her head inches away from his chin, the smell of her lavender-scented shampoo tickling his nose, his hands resting on the curves in her waist.

When Soobin woke up feeling excited that day, he told himself it was just because he was excited to start a new week of school, but deep down he knew that wasn’t the case.

When the guys suggested that they wait for B outside the school gates so that they could greet her a proper ‘welcome back,’ he felt a flutter in his chest, and he told himself that it was just because he was happy that their group would be complete again (minus Kai), but deep down, he knew he was only fooling himself.

When he and the guys stood outside the school gates waiting for B and Taehyun to arrive, he could feel his heart start to beat even faster in anticipation, and he told himself it was just because he was looking forward to see their friend again after a whole week, but he knew there was more to it than that.

When he saw her waving her arms in the air and walking towards them, he felt his breath catch in his throat, and he told himself it was just because he was surprised to see her looking so radiant and healthy knowing how badly sick she was, but he knew it was because of how he was just now realizing how beautiful she really was.

When he took a step towards her and engulfed her delicate figure in his arms, feeling the warmth of her body against his, a feeling washed over him unlike anything he’s experienced before, as if by having her in his arms everything in the world was finally falling into place and the pounding in his chest and the flutter of butterfly wings in his stomach finally made sense, and it was at that moment he knew with absolute certainty just what it was.

It was her. It was B.

He didn’t know how it came to be, or why exactly it happened, but all he knew was that it was her.

It was him realizing that he was falling in love with her.

And the feeling hit him so suddenly with such clarity that for a moment, it felt like the whole world stood still, as his breath seemed to catch in his throat and time seemed to stop as he held her in his arms, savoring the moment and all the emotions that were hitting him all at once.

She lets out a surprised squeal as Soobin pulls her in, only to be muffled by her face being buried in his chest as they embrace.

“Soobinie!” she says, laughing in surprise. “I missed you too.”

Soobin smiles to himself, tempted to rest his chin on her head, but he was aware of the presence of their friends, so he slowly lets her go, his eyes meeting Taehyun’s as he does, and Taehyun’s expression quickly changes as he realizes what was happening.

Taehyun raises his brows in question, and Soobin gives him a quick and discreet nod in response, to which Taehyun shakes his head.

Soobin keeps his head down to conceal the blush creeping into his face as B steps away and Beomgyu tackles her into a hug.

“We missed you so much! I wish I could’ve gotten an excuse to skip school for a week too, though.” Beomgyu says slyly.

“Hey, I did not skip school! I called you everyday to listen in on lectures, remember?” B says defensively, hitting Beomgyu’s chest. “If you wanna stay at home so bad, maybe you should come over to my place. I’m sure Hyuka would gladly give you a big hug, along with the chicken pox of course.”

Beomgyu steps away and holds his hands up in the air in front of him. “No way, I don’t want chicken pox. I’d rather endure school than have hideous spots all over my body.”

B looks at him offended. “You think I have hideous spots all over my body?” she says through gritted teeth.

“Oh, now you’ve done it, Gyu.” Taehyun says, watching as Beomgyu runs away from B to hide behind him. “Don’t worry B, I’ll help you kidnap him after school. I think Hyuka would like to have an extra playmate.”

“I never said that!” Beomgyu cries, running from Taehyun to Yeonjun now, hiding behind the blue haired boy. “B, you look beautiful as always. If anything, the spots just accentuate your beauty.” he says desperately.

B scoffs. “Oh shut up. You’re lucky I like you, or else I would’ve slapped you so hard that the spots would transfer from my skin to yours.”

Yeonjun laughs, shielding Beomgyu behind him. “Wow, I never pegged you to be violent.” he says.

B shrugs. “I’m not. I’m just saying, I could slap someone if I wanted to.”

Yeonjun shakes his head, pulling her into his arms. “Welcome back, Baby.” he whispers in her ear, giving her a quick peck on the cheek and slowly stroking the small of her back, making sure that the other boys don’t see, before letting her go.

Once she pulls away, her face is noticeably red, and Yeonjun can’t help but laugh. God, she looked adorable. He gives her a quick wink before saying “And now that that’s settled, shall we head to class?”

The 3 boys put on their facemasks and let B lead the way into the school gates, each of them having their body temperatures checked and their hands disinfected before walking through the gates.

As B walks ahead of the boys, the 4 boys pair off.

Beomgyu slings an arm around Yeonjun’s shoulders, keeping his voice low as he says “So now that’s she’s back, will you guys have the talk now?”

“What talk?” Yeonjun asks.

“The talk? The relationship talk. You know, the talk about your feelings and where you guys stand and what your label is and stuff like that.” Beomgyu says knowingly. “If the 2 of you don’t want to put a label on whatever it is you 2 are, then you should at least let the other guys know that you’re dating.”

Yeonjun shrugs. “Don’t worry, Gyu. I’ve got it all planned out, you’ll see. I’ve been planning this for days now, but considering that we’re at school, I’ll have to make do. At the end of the day, we might even let you guys know about us.” he responds, his eyes glued to the girl in front of them, which automatically puts a smile on his face. “I’m gonna make that girl mine.”

Meanwhile, Taehyun attempts to sling his arm around Soobin’s shoulders, but with the other boy being much taller and walking a bit faster, he settled for interlocking his arm around Soobin’s instead.

“Oh, hey Tyun.” Soobin says, surprised by the sudden lock on his arm. “What’s up?”

“’What’s up?’” Taehyun says, mimicking him. “You tell me. All your questions about falling in love and stuff…were they about B? Is it her? Are you in love with—”

Soobin cuts him off. “Shhh, the other guys might hear you!” he says, hurriedly looking around and seeing that no one was within ear shot. “Yes, it’s about her. Let’s talk about this later, okay? Alone.”

Taehyun sighs. “Fine, but wow, I should’ve known. I had a feeling it was her. You 2 would make a great couple.” he says teasingly.

“Oh shut up, you know-it-all.” Soobin says, flustered. “I’m sure you would’ve figured it out sooner or later anyway, you’re too damn smart, you know?”

Taehyun laughs. “It doesn’t take a genius to see that you’ve got it bad, Binnie.” he says. “Let’s talk about it soon, okay? Just hang in there.”

Soobin sighs, his eyes focus on the girl walking in front of them. “Trust me, I’m trying.”

•°•

B had to admit that Yeonjun’s sudden request had her heart fluttering, but more than anything it got her head buzzing with curiosity. Within 5 minutes she had excused herself from class, 3rd period biology which she didn’t share with any of the guys, and she was on her way to the student council room, which she had only been to once before with Soobin and Yeonjun. Technically, she was cutting class, but a few minutes probably wouldn’t hurt.

B takes a deep breath, not knowing what quite to expect, before turning the knob on the double doors to the student council room, taking a step inside.

The room was dark, the blackout curtains doing their job, and was only illuminated by the light spilling in from the door and a set of candles in the middle of the conference table, which also highlighted the fact that the conference table seemed to be overflowing with blue rose petals.

And there was Yeonjun, leaning against the table, a single blue rose in his hand. It’s only then when B looks down and notices that the carpeted floor all the way from the entrance of the room to the spot where Yeonjun was standing by the conference table was littered with blue rose petals.

“Yeonjun? What is this?” B asks, stepping inside and closing the door behind her, the only source of light in the room now coming from the candles. She removes her face mask, noticing that he wasn’t currently wearing one, and pockets it in her blazer.

“Baby. Come here.” he says, patting the spot on the table beside him. B walks over to the table, stepping on countless blue petals as she did so, and once she reaches him, Yeonjun takes her by surprise and carries her, lifting her up and setting her down on the table.

“Yeonjun!” she squeals in surprise, clinging on to him for dear life. As her bottom hits the table, she lets go and whacks his arm. “You surprised me!” she huffs, surprised by his sudden maneuver. “And you’re breaking the health protocols! What’s all this for anyway?”

He stands in front of her, simply staring at her, admiring how she looked in the candlelight. A few blue petals had fallen over the edge when he set her down on the table, but that didn’t bother him. He had skipped the entirety of 3rd period to prepare for this moment, so he wouldn’t let anything distract him now.

“All this?” he simply says. Upon seeing the confused look on her face, he takes a step towards her, situating himself in between her dangling legs, and he rests his hands on either side of her, his palms laid flat on the table just centimeters away from her thighs. The whole mood in the room shifted from playful to something different with just that simple action. “All this is for you.”

B could feel her heart start to pound in her chest again. She tried to keep a level head but Yeonjun was standing so close that she could smell him, the scent of his cologne now very familiar to her, and she could feel parts of his uniform lightly tickling at her inner thighs where he stood, sending shivers down her spine. “For me? Why?”

“Because, Baby, you deserve it. You deserve all of it.” he begins carefully, slowly, his gaze locking her in place. “I told you I want to give you all the good things you deserve, and during the past week I tried. Those dates meant a lot to me and I can only hope that you enjoyed them half as much as I did. My plans were cut short because of your unexpected temporary roommate,” he says, fondly referring to Kai, “and maybe I should’ve waited a little bit longer to do this, but I don’t think I can keep this to myself any longer.”

B looks down then, her cheeks starting to heat up. She sees how close his hands are to her thighs and her mouth goes dry. He was standing so close. “What are you talking about?” she says, her eyes transfixed on his hands.

Her eyes follow as he raises one hand to cup her face, lifting it up slightly to meet his gaze. “I want you, Baby.” he says, looking right into her eyes. “I want you to be mine.”

B takes a deep breath, finding herself unable to look away, before she says “I want you, too.”

And with those words, Yeonjun couldn’t resist any longer. He leaned forward, closing what little distance was left between them, and pulled her face up to his, their lips crashing together.

~ w a r n i n g : makeout scene  ~

Praying that he couldn’t hear her pounding heartbeat, B returns the kiss with equal fervor, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him even closer. Her fingers entwine themselves in the hair at the nape of his neck, effectively disheveling his blue hair.

Yeonjun’s hands inch away from the table and come in direct contact with her thighs, the sudden warmth of his palms on her bare skin causing B’s mouth to open a little to let out a breath of surprise. She feels him smile against her lips, amused by her reaction, before taking the opportunity to trace her lower lip with his tongue, seeking entrance, which she allows.

His hands start to move slowly up her body then, he slides them up from her thighs to her waist, her skirt hiking up a few inches higher in the process. He breaks the kiss, allowing a moment for them to catch their breaths, before bowing his head down, his lips coming in contact with the sensitive skin on her neck.

“Oh god.” B breathes out, surprised by the contact, and again she feels his lips form a smile against her skin. She tilts her head backwards, his lips trailing kisses along her exposed skin, her heavy breaths starting to make her feel lightheaded.

Just as he’s about to pull away, his lips brush against the dip in her collarbone, causing her to wrap her legs around his waist and her fingers in his hair to dig in deeper, her body reacting to him before her mind could grasp what was happening.

“Fuck.” he breathes against her skin, feeling himself start to lose control.

B’s grip loosens then, her hands dropping from his hair to rest on his shoulders, her breathing heavy as she lets her head fall forward to rest on the top of his head, his face still buried in her neck. “Sorry.” she whispers, trying to control the rise and fall of her chest.

His grip on her waist remains tight, her blouse bunched up in his fists, his head buried in her neck as he tries to calm himself down, his breath coming out through clenched teeth. For a moment, they stay like that, until Yeonjun’s grip gradually starts to loosen, letting go of the fabric of her blouse as his hands go from clenching her waist to gently tracing circles on the now exposed skin on her hips.

~ end of makeout scene  ~

“You…” he begins slowly, lifting his head and letting it rest against her forehead, their breaths mingling. “You drive me crazy, you know?”

She lets out a small laugh, shaking her head lightly against his. “Not really, no.”

He laughs too, reaching a hand up to caress her hair, his eyes on hers once again. “Baby.” he simply says.

“Yes?” she responds, unable to stop a smile from creeping on her face. He smiles too, his heart fluttering, and he takes a deep breath before saying the next few words.

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

She nods her head eagerly, their foreheads rubbing together. “Choi Yeonjun, I’m all yours.” she says, laughing upon seeing his bright smile. She kisses his nose, then his forehead and each of his cheeks. He starts laughing as she showers his face with light kisses. “I’m yours, you’re mine, Baby.” he says, the feeling washing over him.

“You think it’s safe to let everyone know now?” Yeonjun asks her, remembering how he promised Beomgyu they’d tell the rest of the boys about it soon.

B nods, biting her lip as she thinks of how people would react to the news. Yeonjun was her boyfriend. “Yes.”

He uses his thumb to free her lower lip from her teeth, gently tracing it before kissing her softly again. “Let’s tell the guys later. At lunch.” he says, referring to their daily lunchbreaks spent at the gazebo.

“Sure.” she says. Then she pulls away and pushes herself off the table, straightening out her uniform as she does so. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a Biology class to get back to.”

Yeonjun smirks, watching her pull her skirt down and tuck the hem of her blouse back in, straightening her blazer and running her fingers through her hair. It gave him some sort of satisfaction, knowing that he had gotten her so disheveled. He leans back against the table, running a hand through his hair and straightening out his necktie as well, keeping his hands in the front pockets of his trousers.

“Aren’t you coming back to class?” B asks, pulling the face mask out of her blazer pocket and putting securing it over her nose and mouth. “There’s only a few more minutes, and then it’ll be our lunch break.”

Yeonjun shakes his head. “I never went to third period.” he admits. “You better get back to class and surrender your hall pass though. I’ll meet you at the gazebo for lunch.” he says.

B’s mouth drops open. “You skipped third period?” she exclaims. “Please promise me you won’t skip classes again, please?” she pouts.

He laughs, taking her hand and pulling her closer. ��I promise. Except for when my father requests it, though. But this is the last non-business related time I skip class.” he says, kissing the back of her hand. “You better hurry back, the bell rings in about 10 minutes.”

“Oh my god, I am so dead!” she squeals, her eyes widen as starts to pull away, but Yeonjun’s grip on her wrist keeps her in place.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” he says pointedly, his brow raised.

“Oh.” she simply says, before standing on her tiptoes and using a finger to pull her mask down, giving him a quick peck on the lips before pulling the mask back up. “That?”

He laughs, shaking his head. “You are adorable. I meant this,” he says, planting the single blue rose in her free hand. “but thanks, Baby.”

She blushes beet red then, straightening out her blazer one last time and quickly saying “See you at lunch, Yeonjun!” before dashing out the door.

He uses the remaining 10 minutes of 3rd period to distract himself from his thoughts by cleaning up all the rose petals he had set up. He wasn’t expecting things to get so heated, he only wanted to ask her to be his girlfriend, but he had to admit that he was pleasantly surprised by the turn of events. Just thinking about how she had reacted to his touches and how adorably flustered she got made him smile to himself, but the memory of her wrapping her legs around his waist and tilting her head back sent his mind wandering into the very place he was trying to distract himself from in the first place.

He sighs, shaking his head as he forced his thoughts to go focus into another mindset instead. He checks his watch, the petals all put away in a garbage bag. As the lunch bell rings, he grabs his things and locks the student council room behind him, putting on a face mask before making his way to the gazebo where he would meet his friends and his girlfriend for lunch.

Now he just had to tell his friends about his girlfriend.

•°•

When B got back to her Biology class, the teacher fortunately didn’t seem to notice that she was gone for well over 5 minutes, but her friends definitely did. When she sat back down beside Ryujin and Yuna, they definitely noticed how long her absence was, and they took note of how flushed she looked, and of the blue rose that he had haphazardly tucked under her blazer.

“Spill it. Now.” the 2 girls eagerly say, eyeing her like a hawk.

“Yeonjun asked me to meet up with him at the student council room.” B whispers to them, making sure that they were the only ones within earshot.

“Ooh, a steamy secret rendezvous in the middle of class?” Ryujin says teasingly.

“No, it wasn’t like that.” B aggressively whispers back, well-aware of how her cheeks were heating up as she tries to push away thoughts of Yeonjun’s lips on her neck.

“So what was it like then?” Yuna asks innocently.

Unable to contain her smile, B says “He asked me to be his girlfriend. And I said yes.”

The 2 girls quietly squeal at the good news. “Wow! Congrats!” Ryujin says.

Yuna nods. “Wow, and just like that for the first time in 2 years, Choi Yeonjun has a girlfriend.”

“2 years? He hasn’t had a girlfriend in 2 years?” B asks, surprised. Since everyone kept mentioning Yeonjun having a record for being one of the biggest flirts on campus, she was expecting him to have a long list of complicated past relationships.

“Well, real serious girlfriends, yeah. He’s been on a few dates with some girls since then, but it never really went beyond that so I wouldn’t call them girlfriends. And if I’m not mistaken, she was his first girlfriend. His first love, actually.” Yuna says thoughtfully. “I don’t really know her since she was never a student here.”

“I did, sort of.” Ryujin pipes up. “Gyu told me all about the guys’ past relationships. He mentioned Yeonjun and Rose’s relationship a lot. He said she was…” she starts, trying to choose her words carefully. “well, a complete bitch.”

“Rose?” B says, the name completely foreign to her. “His first girlfriend? So he’s only had 1 other girlfriend before me? And she was a complete bitch?” she asks, her head spinning with information.

Ryuji nods. “Yeah, despite his track record and dating history, he’s only ever had 1 serious relationship, and that was with Rose.” she says. “Gyu said they were intense. It was one of those relationships that were just so, um, loud I guess?”

“Loud? What do you mean?” B asks, genuinely curious yet a bit afraid to find out the answer.

“Gyu said they were one of those couples who were always so in-your-face about their relationship. Yeonjun wasn’t active on social media back then, but she was, and she was flaunting her relationship all over, showing off all the stuff he’d spoil her with and everything. Not only that, but they were one of those couples that, when going through a fight, the whole world would know about. According to Gyu, their relationship was dramatic and fiery and intense and so damn toxic, but Yeonjun was head over heels for her, which annoyed the guys to no end.”

“That sounds kind of awful.” B says, unable to imagine Yeonjun in such a relationship. “Kind of weird that the guys didn’t seem so supportive, either?”

Ryujin shakes her head. “That’s not even the worst of it. Apparently, she cheated on him with another rich kid she met while she was on vacation or something. Gyu says he hasn’t hated anyone as much as he hated Rose.”

“Now that sounds really awful.” B said, the information overload swirling around in her head. She couldn’t even imagine how awful this girl must’ve been for even Beomgyu and his friends to hate her so much. Why had Yeonjun fallen in love with such an awful person? And how could he have stayed in such a toxic relationship? And how could anyone cheat on him?

“I can’t say for sure since I personally don’t know her, Gyu just showed me a few of her pictures before, but he made her sound like the devil incarnate.” Ryujin says.

“Well, devil incarnate or not, Yeonjun’s definitely taken his standards to a different level with you.” Yuna says a bit comfortingly, squeezing B’s arm, trying to move away from the unpleasant topic. “And the best part is, I’m pretty sure all his friends love you already, so you won’t have to worry about that either. You and Yeonjun are solid.”

“Thanks, Yuna.” B says, smiling in relief. Then, remembering what Kai had told her about wanting to ask Yuna out, B giggles to herself.

“What was that for?” Yuna asks, noticing the sudden giggle.

Just then, the lunch bell rings, and B stands up instantly, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Nothing. Just excited about my new relationship, I guess.” And about your soon-to-be relationship with my best friend. she thinks to herself, before greeting the girls goodbye and leaving the room.

Due to Kai’s absence, she had to walk to the gazebo alone, growing accustomed to having him pick her up outside her classroom so they could walk to the gazebo together. Now that she was left alone with her thoughts, she was starting to feel overwhelmed about everything that had happened that morning, from being back in school to her meet up with Yeonjun to officially being his girlfriend to learning about his ex. Even though she had learned a lot from Ryujin, she had to admit that her curiosity was still taking over her thoughts, which she knew would probably do no good for her new relationship.

Still, she couldn’t help but wonder about Yeonjun’s past relationship, and worry about how similar it had sounded to her relationship with her one and only ex boyfriend.

As she approaches the gazebo, she sees that Yeonjun and the rest of the guys were already there, sitting at their usual places. Without Kai, she wasn’t sure where she should sit. She usually sat beside Soobin cause that’s where Kai would usually sit before welcoming her into the group, but now she wasn’t sure.

Before she started to worry too much about where to sit, the boys spotted her approaching the gazebo and started waving at her. She smiles and waves back, stepping into the gazebo.

“There you are! Ah, it feels good to see your face around here again.” Beomgyu says, welcoming her in. “And just in time, too. Yeonjun says he has an important announcement that he’d like to make.”

“That we’d like to make, actually.” Yeonjun says, offering B a hand as she steps in, and she takes his hand shyly, letting him guide her into the small space.

“Oh?” Taehyun says, eyeing the 2 with a bad feeling in his gut. “What announcement?”

B takes a deep breath suddenly feeling shy and nervous, her eyes on the ground. She was starting to feel worried about how their friends might react, and guilty about not telling them about the whole thing in the first place. She had grown very fond of the boys and felt very comfortable around them, their closeness making her feel safe, as if she belonged. She was afraid that being Yeonjun’s girlfriend would change the way they see her or the way they treat her.

Sensing her nerves, Yeonjun squeezes her hand, urging her to look at him instead. He offers her a small smile, which she nervously returns. He nods at her before turning his attention to the 3 boys seated. “First thing’s first, I just wanna say that I’m sorry we didn’t tell you guys about this sooner. We just agreed that it would be best to keep it between us until we were sure about how things would go.”

“Whatever it is, we understand.” Soobin says with a smile on his face yet with a sinking feeling in his stomach, his mind buzzing at Yeonjun’s choice of words.

We.

Taehyun looks at his president with worry, a part of him dreading whatever Yeonjun would say next yet already sensing what was coming.

Yeonjun smiles brightly, his heart fluttering as he looks at the girl by his side before slinging an arm over her shoulders and pulling her to his side. “Baby and I are together.”

As the words leave Yeonjun’s mouth, Soobin’s gaze instantly falls on B, wanting to see if it was true or if it was some sort of weird prank that Yeonjun was pulling. When he sees her smile shyly, attempting to bury her face in the blue haired boy’s chest, his heart sinks.

“We’re officially a couple.” she confirms, her face getting redder by the second as she looks up at Yeonjun, who he could tell was grinning behind his face mask.

Soobin didn’t know what felt worse, the fact that his best friend and the girl he just realized he was falling for were now a couple, or the fact that now he was falling in love with his best friend’s girlfriend. Seeing them together now—her with her flushed cheeks and her tight grip on Yeonjun’s necktie and him with his arm dropping down from her shoulders to her waist, securing her by his side—made Soobin feel a bit sick. But what made him feel even sicker was the fact that seeing them together was making him feel sick in the first place. His best friend had finally found an amazing girl 2 years after his horrendous break up and was now dating said amazing girl. He wanted nothing more than to feel happy, but the fact that he didn’t made him feel terrible.

Before Soobin’s guilt starts to consume him, Beomgyu suddenly claps, sending a jolt through everyone in the gazebo. “Wow, congratulations B and YJ!” he says, approaching the couple and happily slapping the older boy on his back. “You 2 look great together.”

“Thanks, Gyu.” B says shyly, her blush visible even through her face mask, one hand fisting Yeonjun’s necktie as he kept her close to him.

“Don’t mention it, I’m happy that this guy has finally moved on.” Beomgyu says teasingly. “And that he was able to score someone way out of his league.” he says, wiggling his brows at the pair.

“Shut up, BG.” Yeonjun says, playfully shoving Beomgyu away before they share a quick high five “You’re right though, I don’t know how I got so lucky.” he says, using his free hand to caress her hair.

“Shut up, both of you.” she says, flustered. She looks at Taehyun and Soobin anxiously, holding her breath as she waited for their reactions. So far, the two boys had either been staring at her and Yeonjun or at each other.

Finally, Taehyun stands up, approaching the couple. “B.” he simply says, which causes her heart to sink a little.

“Tyunie?” she asks, nervously waiting to know his verdict. She and Taehyun had formed a sort of special bond over their walks together, and his opinion was the one that she worried about the most. She wanted to apologize on the spot for not telling him about it sooner, and explain everything about the past couple of weeks to him to make him understand why she had chosen to keep her relationship with Yeonjun a secret. She didn’t know why, but she wanted Taehyun’s approval.

He smiles at her then, and she feels the weight lifted off her chest. “Congratulations.” he finally says, stepping towards her and hugging her, which she wholeheartedly returned. She lets out a sigh as he rubs her back, her chin tucked into his shoulder, before he pulls away. “I just broke a health protocol for you.” he suddenly says, horrified. He instantly steps away then and starts to vigorously spray his hands, arms and neck with alcohol, which causes B to burst out laughing.

“You did it cause you looove me.” she says teasingly. “And thanks, Tyun.” she says, glad that he approved, though she made a mental note to tell him about all the details later on. She felt like she owed him that much.

It’s quiet for a moment as Yeonjun’s gaze lands on Soobin, the only one in the group who hadn’t shown any reaction towards the news as he had just been staring back and forth between him and B the whole time.

For Yeonjun, it was Soobin’s opinion he valued the most. Soobin was one of the few people in the world that Yeonjun would trust with his life. He was the only one among his friends who supported his relationship with Rose, valuing Yeonjun’s happiness above his own when he was clearly unhappy about the whole incident.

He was the one who was there for Yeonjun when everything came crashing down, the one who helped Yeonjun pick himself back up after being cheated on by his first love, the one who helped save Yeonjun from the nights when he would drown himself in alcohol in the hopes of numbing the heartache, the one who would sneak into Yeonjun’s house in the middle of the night to make sure he was asleep safe and sound in his bed rather than hooking up with random girls and picking fights with random guys at the bar, the one who would talk Yeonjun into giving his father a chance and reason with him that his father only wanted what was best for his son, the one who encouraged Yeonjun to join the dance club and the jazzed club and the student council, the one who begged the faculty and advisers to give Yeonjun a second chance at finishing school at MOA promising that he would keep his friend in check, the one who would do anything to make Yeonjun smile, and the one who would always tell Yeonjun the truth.

He stares at Soobin until Soobin’s eyes finally meet his and he stands up, making his way towards the blue haired boy. Once they stood face to face, there’s a moment of silence before Soobin’s face melts into a warm smile, his dimples peeking out from under his mask, his eyes crinkling at the corners, which instantly puts a smile on Yeonjun’s face as well.

Yeonjun pulls him into a hug, relieved. “Congratulations, Yeonjun.” the taller boy says, patting his back a couple of times before pulling away. “I’m so happy for you.” he says.

“Thanks, Binnie.” Yeonjun says, patting him on the back as well. “This means a lot to me.”

Soobin nods at him before turning to B, and before he can say or do anything, she throws her arms out to him and pulls him in for a hug, her tiny body feeling especially fragile as her arms squeezed around his waist.

He looks down at B then, finding her in his arms for the second time that day, in almost the exact same way. Again, he feels time stop the moment his arms wrap themselves around her body, only this time she had her arms around his waist as well. Her face was buried in his chest, the top of her head inches away from his chin, the smell of her lavender-scented shampoo taking over his senses, his hands resting on the curves of her waist.

Only now it felt completely different.

When he hugged her this morning, it felt like everything in the world was falling into place, the feeling hitting him so suddenly with such clarity, as if time seemed to stop as he was hit with the realization that he was falling in love.

As he hugged her now, it felt like everything in the world was falling apart, the horrible feeling hitting him as he felt his heart sink deeper and deeper, as if time seemed to stop as he was hit with the reality that she was Yeonjun’s, that what he felt for her was wrong, that he could never let his feelings for her go past what they were now, that he probably shouldn’t even be hugging her anymore.

“Thanks, Soobinie.” she says in response to how he had congratulated Yeonjun.

“No problem, B.” he says, lifting a hand up to gently stroke her hair, taking a deep breath and taking in her lavender scent, savoring the warmth of her body against his one last time, telling himself he’d never hug her like this for as long as he could handle it. As he lays his chin gently at the top of her head, his eyes meet Taehyun’s, who was standing behind her, staring at him with a sad look in his eyes.

Soobin squeezes his eyes shut, prolonging the hug for a moment longer, before finally pulling away, looking directly at her eyes. She was glowing, her face flushed yet radiant, her smile so big that it was visible under her mask, she looked so so happy that it made his heart ache, knowing that the next few words he’d speak out loud would kill him yet knowing that he meant every bit of it.

“I’m happy for you.”

•°•   

Author’s note:

Hello, thank you for reading! I’m trying to get more familiar with Tumblr, so if you have any suggestions or comments don’t be afraid to drop them! (PS I’m not even sure how to reply to comments, that’s how bad I am at using Tumblr lol but I promise that all replies are highly appreciated!!) PS: Happy 1 year anniversary/birthday, MOA! <3 Also: STREAM DRAMA MV!

#tomorrow x together #txt #choi yeonjun #yeonjun #yeonjun fic #yeonjun fanfic #yeonjun au #choi soobin #soobin #soobin fic #soobin fanfic #soobin au #choi beomgyu #beomgyu #kang taehyun #taehyun #hueningkai #huening kai #txt fic #txt au #txt fanfic #tomorrow x together fic #tomorrow x together fanfic #bighit fic #bighit au #tomorrow x together au #oh my god its 4 am #i should probably sleep lol #stream drama mv #everlasting shine soty

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

March 5, 2021

Heather Cox Richardson

In coronavirus news today, there were a record 2.4 million vaccines administered.

Florida governor Ron DeSantis (R) is denying any involvement in a vaccine drive in a private, gated community after which a resident of the community, former Illinois governor Bruce Rauner (R), made a donation of $250,000 to the Friends of Ron DeSantis Political Action Committee. This appears to be part of a pattern in Florida, where vaccine administration seems to track with wealthy communities whose members donate to the governor’s campaign funds.

News about the January 6 insurrection continues to mount, with a mid-level Trump appointee from the State Department, Federico Klein, arrested yesterday on several felony charges, including assaulting police officers, stemming from the riot. Tonight the New York Times revealed that a member of the far-right Proud Boys organization was in contact with someone at the White House in the days before the insurrection.

Representative Zoe Lofgren (D-CA) has catalogued almost 2000 pages of public social media posts from those representatives who voted to overturn the election. The material reveals that a few representatives were active indeed in pushing the idea that the election was stolen and Trump supporters must fight. Especially active were Paul Gosar (R-AZ), Mo Brooks (R-AL), Matt Gaetz (R-FL), Billy Long (R-MO) and Marjorie Taylor Greene (R-GA).

Senator Tom Cotton (R-AR) is slow-walking the confirmation of Merrick Garland as attorney general, an odd stance at a time when one would think we would want all hands on deck to investigate the insurrection and ongoing domestic terrorism.

The Senate continues to hash out the American Rescue Plan. After last night’s 10 hour and 44 minute reading of the bill by Senate clerks, demanded by Senator Ron Johnson (R-WI), there was a surprise when Senator Chris Van Hollen (D-MD) requested that the debate on the bill resume at 9:00 this morning and be limited to three hours, rather than the 20 hours that had been planned. Since no Republicans were there to object, the presiding officer agreed, and voting on amendments started at noon.  

The big deal today was that Senator Joe Manchin (D-WV) balked at what observers thought was a done deal, withdrawing his support from the measure’s $400 weekly unemployment. Shortly before 8:00 p.m., Manchin and Majority Leader Chuck Schumer (D-NY) reached a deal to extend $300 payments through September 6, making the first $10,200 of unemployment benefits nontaxable for those households whose income is less than $150,000.

Manchin’s position has raised fury on the part of Democrats who are already mad at the loss of the $15 minimum wage in the bill, and there are grumblings that Manchin should not have the power to water the measure down.

But Manchin is as powerful as he is only because the Senate is split 50-50, and the Republicans-- who represent 41.5 million fewer Americans than Democrats do-- are refusing to vote for the measure at all, despite the fact that 77% of Americans want it. We have a structural problem both with the Senate and with the Republican Party.

The Democrats continue to believe they will pass the American Rescue Plan.

The popularity of that bill spells trouble for Republicans. President Biden is making a pitch for Americans who feel that the government has not responded to the needs of a falling middle class. The bill expands the earned income tax credit for all Americans, and almost doubles the child tax credit. These provisions will disproportionately help poor families, especially families of color. The measure is expected to cut child poverty in half, while also helping parents to work by helping them pay for childcare.

Meanwhile, there is another big event on the horizon in Alabama that suggests a seismic shift in the contours of our political parties.

Workers at an Amazon plant in Bessemer, Alabama, are voting on whether to unionize. Amazon opposes the move, which, since Amazon employs more than 400,000 warehouse and delivery workers, is shaping up to be the biggest fight over unionization in American history. The company warns that unionization might increase costs and slow growth, and it has flooded its workers with mandatory anti-union meetings and anti-union literature—even posting signs in bathroom stalls. While workers have complained about working conditions and mandatory overtime, the company points out that it offers Bessemer workers benefits and a starting pay of $15.30 an hour, while the federal minimum wage remains pegged at $7.25.

The reason this unionization effort jumps off the page for politics is that President Biden recorded a video on February 28 taking a strong pro-union stance. He reminded viewers that “America wasn’t built by Wall Street, it was built by the middle class, and unions built the middle class. Unions put power in the hands of workers. They level the playing field. They give you a stronger voice for your health, your safety, higher wages, protections from racial discrimination and sexual harassment. Unions lift up workers, both union and non-union, and especially Black and Brown workers.“

Biden made it clear that the choice to unionize should be made by workers, without pressure from employers. “The choice to join a union is up to the workers—full stop.” Biden has also nominated Boston mayor Marty Walsh, the former president of the Laborers’ International Union of North America, as secretary of labor. If confirmed, Walsh will be the first union member to serve as secretary of labor in nearly 50 years. Biden’s vocal defense of working Americans has the potential to rally struggling workers to the Democrats more firmly than they have rallied for decades.

—-

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

#quotes #political #Heather Cox Richardson #Letters From An American #COVID-19 #Coronavirus Relief #minimum wage #corrupt GOP #criminal GOP

[k-pop-imagines]

Aurora || Chapter 2

> Aurora Masterlist <

Pairing: Park Seonghwa x OC

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: none

A/N: This is probably the longest chapter of anything I have ever written, wow. Seonghwa makes his first appearance in this chapter, that’s all I’m going to say.  I hope you enjoy! - Admin Soomi

° AUFREGUNG °

-> excitement, anxiety, commotion

When she woke up the next morning and took a look in the mirror, she could only sigh at her appearance. Her mother was only joking at dinner but after a night of restless sleep, the circles under Yeseul’s eyes seemed a lot more prominent than usual. She put on a light layer of casual makeup to hide the fatigue on her face. 

Her mother had already left for work and even though it was very early in the morning, she had left her a reassuring note, a lunch box, and a small plate of fresh pancakes on the kitchen table. She hadn’t eaten those in ages! Her father used to make them every Sunday but after moving to Seoul, eating pancakes became nothing more than a pleasant memory. Yeseul dug in and despite her stomach demonstrating a little because of her nervousness, she tried to enjoy her special breakfast as much as she could. They were different than the ones they ate in Germany, but she appreciated that her mother had taken the time to prepare them for her. 

After finishing her meal and once more making sure that she looked presentable, she went on her way to the agency. Lucky for her, the building was only a few subway stops away from her home so it took her about 20 minutes to reach her destination. The first thing she noticed, was the 7/11 on the ground floor next to the agency’s entrance. That would surely prove to be convenient.

Yeseul hesitated at the door that would lead her to KQ Entertainment. First, her excitement and anxiety were fairly well balanced, but within a few seconds, the latter doubled and overpowered her. This was her dream but all the doubts and worries she had managed to push away last night, came crashing down on her again. She closed her eyes for a second and took a deep breath. Before she could let her thoughts get the better of her, she pressed the doorbell. No turning back now. 

“Hello?” “Uhh, hello. I’m Hwang Yeseul and I have an appointment for 8 am.” God, why did that sound she was here to see a doctor? Stop overthinking, she quickly reprimanded herself. “Ah, yes! Come up please.” 

The door buzzed and she hesitantly entered the building. The stairway she found herself in was bright, mostly white and grey but a few potted plants made sure it didn’t look too sterile. She walked up to the 3rd floor where she was greeted by a man who introduced himself as Kang Haejun, the same person she had talked to on the phone last night. He was a head taller than her, a bit chubby and addressed her with a warm smile that reached his eyes. “Welcome, I’m glad to see you! Please follow me, the CEO is ready to talk to you.” 

Yeseul followed him through the office. She politely greeted a few people but didn’t have a lot of time to look around. The place wasn’t very big but she assumed they occupied more than this one floor as she hadn’t seen any practice rooms or studios yet. At the far end of a corridor, Mr. Kang knocked on a door and sent her inside after getting a short “Come in.” from the other side. 

She carefully entered what she realized to be the CEO’s office and closed the door behind her. 

A man behind the desk stood up and motioned for her to sit down. As soon as she took her seat opposite him, she suddenly felt very vulnerable. The CEO seemed like a friendly man but he was still the person who would be in charge of her future, whose hands she’d be putting her career in. 

“I’m Kim Gyuwook and as you’ve already heard, we want you to train under our agency. I’ve got the contract prepared but I’d like to discuss the conditions and rules with you beforehand. It’s also very important to me that I get to know my trainees a little before I allow them to start training. So, I have a few questions.” Yeseul nodded shyly and he continued. “Don’t be nervous, though, I won’t interrogate you.” 

He pulled out a piece of paper which she recognized to be the profile she had sent in with her application. 

“Your profile says you speak English, German, and Korean fluently.” “Yes. I grew up bilingual, my mother is Korean and my father German. I also started learning English at a very young age.” "Do you speak any other languages?” “I learned French in school but I don’t speak it too well anymore. I forgot everything except for the basics after graduating, to be honest.” 

The CEO let out a small laugh. “I feel like that’s a common theme for French learners somehow.” 

He took a few notes before going on.

“Are you working right now or studying at university?”

“I currently work part-time at a convenience store. I already talked to the owner and I can schedule my shifts in a way that they wouldn’t coincide with practice hours.” 

“That’s good. Now, why exactly do you want to become a trainee, or rather, an idol?”

She knew that question would be asked eventually and she had thought about how she would answer countless times before. “Back when I lived in Germany, I discovered K-Pop when I was going through kind of a rough patch. The music helped me become a happier person again and inspired me to become a singer. I want to stand on stage and give the same kind of encouragement and motivation to other people.” 

“I’m sure you’re aware that this won’t be easy. You might not actually debut anytime soon. In fact, there’s a chance you might never debut. It all depends on you and your determination.”

“I’m willing to go through it and take the risks if it means I get to do what I love and dream of.”

“Very well.” He gave her a satisfied smile and moved on. 

“It’s not a secret that all entertainment companies have a variety of rules for their trainees to follow and we are of course no exception. They are all mentioned in the contract but I would like to go over them with you so that there won’t be any misunderstandings.” Mr. Kim handed her a list of regulations and explained each of them thoroughly. 

Yeseul was allowed to have a cellphone but usage during classes and schedules was not permitted. She was also not allowed to post on social media from now on. 

Trainees were not allowed to date at all and artists had a dating ban until two years after their debut.

However, they didn’t care too much about keeping their male and female trainees apart, unlike other companies she heard of that wouldn’t even let them be in the same room together. “You know, how it works. If you forbid them, they will try to meet in secret all the more. There’s nothing wrong with making friends but if we do notice anyone getting too distracted though, we will take appropriate measures”, he explained. 

No smoking, drinking, or taking drugs. That one was fairly obvious. 

The part she was wondering about the most was the weight regulations. “There will be weekly weigh-ins. There is a weight range stated in your contract that you should stay in. We expect our trainees to be able to take care of appropriate calorie intake and healthy workout on their own. Unless you exceed that range or fall below it, we won’t be regulating your diet or putting you on a work-out routine.” 

She considered that a fair amount of freedom. 

Yeseul also had the choice to move into a dorm with some of the other female trainees but she decided not to as she didn’t live too far away from the company anyway. 

“Now, let’s talk about your training schedule. I don’t think I need to tell you that your vocals are great. There’s always room for improvement but you already have a good technique and stability.” Yeseul had taken singing lessons for a few years and actually felt fairly confident when it came to that. She dreaded what she knew was coming next, though. 

“However, your dancing is lacking.” She looked away in embarrassment. She had made sure to practice and learn a few basics before auditioning but she was well aware that she was definitely not very talented. 

“There’s potential, don’t worry. It’s nothing our dance teachers can’t fix. Some of our trainees started out way worse and managed to become decent dancers. You’ll just have to practice a lot more than others. Which is why you will also be taking more dance classes than singing classes to get you on one level with the others.” 

That made sense. “In addition to that, you will also be taking Japanese, acting, and modeling classes. Evaluations are once a week, every Saturday, and you will be recording demos in the studio every second week. Lessons in general start at 2pm every day as most of the trainees still go to school in the morning but you can practice on your own at every time of the day. Sundays are off.” 

He slid her a piece of paper with her schedule. Today, she would have vocal lessons at 2pm and dance lessons from 4pm to 8pm but as there were evaluations, she would only be watching and starting the real training on Monday.

“Be aware that if you don’t meet our expectations during evaluations or break any of the rules, the contract will be terminated.”

She voiced her understanding and after a few more questions from the CEO, he handed her the contract and showed her where to sign. She read through everything twice as he watched patiently, then signed, ready to start this new part of her life. 

It was almost 10am when Kim Gyuwook dismissed her from his office with a handshake and wished her good luck. She still had a few hours until vocal lessons were supposed to start so she contemplated going home and taking a nap when Kang Haejun walked up to her offered her a tour around the agency. She gratefully agreed. 

He showed her around the office first, introducing her to a few people she would regularly be working with personally. Everyone was busy but still found the time to give her at least a friendly smile or wave. Just like she expected, KQ Entertainment occupied multiple levels of the building. The 3rd consisted of the office and various meeting rooms. He then led her down to the 2nd floor where the practice rooms and studios were located. She couldn’t take a look inside any of the rooms yet as almost all of the trainees were busy practicing for the evaluations but she made a mental note on where she would find the rooms later. There was also a small kitchen and break rooms with sofas on both of the floors. While showing her around, Mr. Kang also answered any other questions she had. 

He told her that they were currently training a total of 7 trainees including her. They had about 12 male trainees but apparently, eight of them were already training separately as they would be debuting as a group sometime in the second half of the year. He also let her know that she was actually one of the oldest trainees, being born in August of 1998. It made her worry a little. She knew that most trainees started their training at a way younger age. She was 19 years old now, could that be considered too old already? Would it lower her chances of debuting? She decided not to worry too much. If she was too old they wouldn’t have accepted her in the first place.

After the tour, more detailed explanations and an extensive Q&A session it was almost 12pm. She felt a little bad for taking up Mr. Kang’s time but he reassured her that it was actually his job to introduce the new trainees to everything and make sure they felt comfortable. He also gave her his number and told her to contact her if she had any more questions or worries before returning to his office. 

It didn’t make sense for Yeseul to go home before practice anymore. She remembered the lunch box her mother had packed her but decided to save it for later as she didn’t really feel like eating because of her nervousness. Still, she should eat at least something small, so she decided to head down to the convenience store to get a snack, something to reward herself taking this important step and to maybe even calm her nerves a little. 

The young woman headed downstairs into the 7/11, where was greeted by a friendly, elderly man. She bowed with a smile before she started browsing. 

As she walked through the narrow aisle, looking for an appropriate snack to celebrate today’s events, a group of boys entered the store. “We should get some chips for later!” “Aren’t you on a diet?” “Hyung, don’t be like that! I’ll just work out extra hard next week.” 

She scanned the shelves and couldn’t help but quietly snicker at their bickering. She looked over at them for a second, counting three young men. Yeseul didn’t pay them too much attention, even though they were hard to ignore, and instead continued her search. Just as she was about to grab a chocolate bar, her eyes landed on the freezer. It was February, still cold outside, and she had just been told about the weight regulations. Was it really appropriate to buy ice cream now? Yes, it is, Yeseul decided. It was one of her comfort foods so she shrugged, opened the door of the freezer and reached up. Whoever had put her favorite ice cream on the highest shelf surely must hold a personal vendetta against her. She wasn’t tiny, only a few centimeters under average height but this was troublesome. Just as her fingertips brushed against the plastic packaging, a figure next to her reached out and handed the sweet treat to her. Yeseul’s face lit up in excitement and she quickly bowed to the kind stranger. “Thank you so much!” When she looked up, she was met with the shyly smiling face of a man around her age, part of the group who had caused the commotion. He seemed quieter than the other two though, who she could still hear arguing over which snacks to get. 

“It’s not a problem. Is Melona your favorite?” His was voice soothing and hinting curiosity even though he was nervously rubbing his neck. She nodded eagerly in response. “Yes! It’s the best thing to eat when you want to celebrate, even when it’s cold outside…” She mentally scolded herself for rambling. She couldn’t help it, the sudden inquiry surprised her. Not that she minded, he seemed friendly and wasn’t overbearing at all. Yeseul could see he was about to ask what exactly she was celebrating but his two friends interrupted him.

“Seonghwa-hyung, I will buy these chips now and you can’t stop me.” One of them said as he headed to the counter to pay. The other one motioned for your savior to come over as they were getting ready to head out. The stranger, apparently named Seonghwa, gave you an apologetic smile, you bowed and wished each other a good day before he left with his friends. 

Could it be that they were trainees as well? All three of them looked awfully handsome, they talked about dieting and working out, and went shopping right at this store. The fact that they were also dressed in sports clothes led her to make that assumption. At the same time, it could have just been a coincidence. At the latest, she’d find out if she ran into them at the agency. 

#seonghwa imagine #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa scenario #seonghwa fanfiction #ateez x reader #ateez imagine #ateez scenario #ateez fanfiction #seonghwa #park seonghwa #ateez #aurora #kpop #k-pop #kpop imagine #k-pop imagine

[kaffeinic]

Caffeinic | Bang Chan

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | Epilogue

Pairing: Reader x Barista!Bang Chan

Genre: Neutral // Angst Maybe? // Romance

Warnings: None

Preamble: You’ve been going to the same coffee shop for the past four years. You’ve ordered the same thing almost every single day, and you never, ever skip on that part of your morning. So, when Mrs. Park hired a new barista and the once serene café was suddenly flooded with people every second of the day, you were less than thrilled.

You stood outside of the cafe’s entrance, debating whether or not to enter. It has been two days since the date, and you had been actively avoiding the building. Unfortunately, you just ran out of coffee and really, really wanted the coffee that’s made here. You crossed your fingers, hoping that Mrs. Park was manning the floor this evening.

You flinched when the bell above the door trilled as you entered, hoping it didn’t draw any unwanted attention. You peeked at the work station, checking for any signs that Chan was in today. You cursed yourself for never having asked what his schedule was. You only saw Mrs. Park, who frowned when she saw you.

“Y/n, it’s been a while. Are you alright?” She asked, placing a mug on the counter. You nodded and smiled.

“Yeah, of course.” You replied. She cocked an eyebrow, scoffing.

“You are most definitely not fine, and I don’t appreciate being lied to.” She said, wagging a finger in your direction. Your eyes widened as you stopped in your tracks. “You haven’t been in for days and Chan has never looked more depressed.” Mrs. Park said. You looked down.

“It’s fine, I just didn’t want to come in.” You said. You weren’t lying.

“Then tell me why.” She said. You placed your bag on the bar counter, sliding into a seat.

“I really don’t think it’s my place to say.” You said. She looked down and laughed a little.

“That’s exactly what Chan told me.” She explained. “Tell me what happened.” You hung your head low.

“We just fought.” You finally said. She squinted at you, trying to find any indication whether what you said was true or not.

“Ah, I see.” She said, turning. She had grabbed the mug and hung it up behind her. “I was afraid this would happen.” She mumbled.

“Afraid what would happen?”

“That girl would do something to you two.” She said. “She seemed like trouble.” You let out a sigh.

“It wasn’t her. Chan lied to me.” You said. “Or, at least he broke a promise, which is kind of like lying.” You corrected yourself. Mrs. Park frowned.

“What did he promise you?” She asked.

“I really shouldn’t get into it.” You said. “It’s not fair for me to tell everyone about something like this.” You explained. She hummed and nodded, looking down.

“I had such high hopes for you two.” She said. “What would you like to order today, dear?” She asked. You told her your order, pulling out your textbook. You flipped through the pages, not really paying much attention to what they said. You heard the bell ring, signaling you that there was a new customer. You looked up to see Junseok.

“Hey, Y/n~!” He said, waving. He made his way over to you, smiling. “How’ve you been feeling?”

“So-so. What about you?” You said. He frowned, but understood.

“I’m doing alright, thanks. Can I sit here?” He pointed to the stool next to you. You hummed and smiled.

“Of course.”

He took his seat, placing his book bag on the counter next to yours. “I have a lot of studying to do.” He said. You could see three textbooks protruding from the open end of his bag. He wasn’t exaggerating.

“I felt that.” You said, laughing a little. “Which classes?” You asked.

“Anatomy, calculus, and biology.” He said. You raised a brow.

“Are you a medical major?” You asked. He nodded.

“Yeah. It’s always been a passion for me. What about you?” He asked.

“I haven’t decided yet.” You explained, sighing. “I really should, though.” Junseok chuckled at your exasperation.

“Take your time.” He said. You smiled at his kindness, nodding.

“Alright.” You heard footsteps coming from the employee room, looking up to see a very tired-looking Chan. He ran a hand through his locks, frowning.

“I’m ready to take over. You can go now, Mrs. Par-” He stopped in his tracks when he saw you.

“Thank you, Chan. I’ll see you in a few hours.” Mrs. Park briskly walked past all of you and to the stairs, smiling devilishly. Chan slowly walked over to the both of you, looking at Junseok.

“Would you like something to drink?” He asked. You could faintly see his teeth grit while he spoke. Junseok shook his head.

“I think I’m good for now, thanks bro.” He said.

“You can’t be here if you don’t order anything.” Chan’s voice had become lower, as if he was warning Junseok about something. It took a moment, but then the situation hit you; He was jealous. You rolled your eyes.

“I’ve been here a lot without ordering anything, and the café is pretty much empty. I think he’s fine, Chan.” You said, looking back down at your textbook. You scribbled a note and looked over to Junseok, smiling. He returned the gesture.

“I can order something if you want. It’s not a big deal.” He said. Chan huffed, whipping out a notepad.

“What can I get you?” He asked.

“I think I’ll get a macchiato.” Junseok said. “It’s been a while.” Chan nodded and scribbled the order down, turning away to brew Junseok’s coffee. You glanced between the two boys and sighed softly. It was going to be a long day.

The next few minutes passed peacefully, you and Junseok reading your textbooks and discussing, while Chan prepared the macchiato. The café received no new customers in that time, which you were thankful for. You sighed softly and closed your book.

“I think I need a break.” You admitted. Junseok looked up at you from his textbook, which had a large picture of what you could only imagine was some part of the human body. He nodded.

“I could use one, too.” He said. “Do you want me to take you home?” He asked. You shook your head.

“I’m fine. I think I can get there myself. It’s nice out.” You said. “I might want some more coffee before I leave. You can go if you want.” He hummed.

“Alright. Shoot me a text if you change your mind about that ride.” He said, gathering his things. You nodded and watched him exit the café.

“He didn’t even drink his coffee...” Chan muttered to himself as he took the half-full mug. You pursed your lips.

“I don’t always drink my coffee.” You said. “Just because he’s my friend doesn’t mean he can’t be yours.” Chan scoffed.

“He’s made it very clear he wants to be more than friends with you.” He said.

“I’ve made it clear that I don’t.” You retorted. Chan’s gaze never found yours throughout the entire conversation. “You-” You stuttered. “You don’t get to be mad at me.” You said. This time, he looked at you.

“I’m not mad at you.”

“You also don’t get to dictate who I spend my time with. Treating Junseok like crap isn’t going to help you.”

“I’m-” He said. “I’m not trying to.” He let out an exasperated sigh. “Is now a good time for you to let me explain?” He asked. You shook your head.

“You admitted to kissing someone after you told me you wouldn’t do anything like that with other people. I don’t want to hear it. No explanation is going to help you.” You said. He frowned and nodded.

“I’ll try again later.”

Most of the next twenty minutes were spent with the occasional customer coming in, the sound of the coffee grinder going off every few minutes, and the smell of mixed colognes and perfumes irritating your senses. You began get up after your umpteenth cup of coffee, but stopped.

“Chan?” You said. He perked up and looked in your direction. “I’ll let you try to explain.” You couldn’t leave what both of you had without at least letting him try to explain the situation. He smiled weakly and nodded.

“I had gone back to the party after bringing you home, mostly to hang out with Junseok.” He began. “We were messing around, watching all of the drunk people being idiots. One of them came up to me - I don’t even know her name - and just laid one on me. Apparently, they were playing some hybrid of spin the bottle and truth or dare, and she was dared to kiss someone in the room.” He looked at you and frowned. “That person was me. I pushed her away the second it happened, I swear.” He said. You looked at him, contemplating how to feel.

If he was telling the truth, then it’s more than likely that Seoyeon used the incident to split you two up. If he’s lying, which people aren’t unknown to do, then you’d just be falling into the arms of a playboy. You hummed, and nodded.

“Thanks for telling me, but I need to just think about it for a while.” You said. Chan nodded in understanding.

“Take all the time you need.” He said. “In the meantime, I’ll try to find a way to prove it.” He paused. “Why didn’t Junseok tell you?” He asked.

“I never told him about it.” You admitted. Chan raised a brow.

“I thought for sure that you would have told him.”

“It’s not my place to tell everyone about things that happen between us.” You explained. “Even if I’m hurting.” Chan’s gaze softened.

“I get it.” He said. “Will I see you tomorrow?” He asked.

“I don’t know.” You told him. He looked at his hands and grabbed a wet mug.

“Alright.” He said.

~

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I’ve been getting lots of positive feedback for Caffeinic and it truly makes me so happy to see how much you all enjoy this! Also, wow, we just hit double digits for the chapter count! Let’s have a party! 😂 Let me know if you would like to be put on my Taglist. As always, if you enjoyed, please drop a like and reblog for your friends to read! Have a nice day~~

* DISCLAIMER: I do not own any gifs/photos used in this post. I do own the written content. Do NOT repost/edit. *

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#kpop #fanfictions #headcannons #reactions #stray kids #stray kids bang chan #bang chan #imagines #chan #ships #skz #stray kids chan #christopher bang #skz bang chan #skz chan #caffeinic #barista #au #boyfriend

[xnovamore]

Storming the Castle

@femslashfairies2020 Day 7 Prompt: Royalty. This is apart of my Home is Where They Are Erzajane series but can be read as a stand alone. All you need to know is that its set in a peaceful post-canon world where Erza is guildmaster and Mirajane is the unofficial co-guildmaster who runs also runs magic school out of the guild hall and they have 2 adopted non-magical children.

Read on Ao3

In a world where two esteemed S-class wizards, one the infamous Queen of Fairies and current leader of the Fairy Tail Guild and the other the beautiful but dangerous she-devil and unofficial co-guild leader, with a relationship history of rivalry and one-upping each other like there's, it’s no surprise that they’ve run into some arguments from time to time. Comprising was by far the biggest lesson the two had needed to learn in their 8 years together as a couple. Pride and the need to have the last word were left behind to make room for late night heart-to-hearts and early morning make-up sex. Over the years they learned to be patient with each other, to listen to the other’s point and find a way to meet in the middle without resulting to a screaming match or sparring in the middle of their living room.

But that all changed now that they’re parents to an 11-year old and a 4-year-old. Because instead of two strong willed women butting heads every once in a while, it’s now an entire household of stubbornness colliding with each other at the worst of times. Erza and Mira prided themselves on raising two strong independent children but there were moments like these that reminded them how hard parenting could be.

Today was Sunday and both Mirajane and Erza tried to make sure they could spend most of the day with their family, given that there were no world ending threats or fires at the guild that need to be put out. Sundays were a day for just the two of them and their little loves to go out on exploring together or stay in and cuddle up near the fire trading stories of their week over board games and coco. Taking a look at the strong wind and heavy rain outside, both women had agreed that staying in today was best and went about their morning routine. They would freshen up and shower together flirting in the bathroom and lingering in the shower until the water ran cold. Then Mirajane would head down the stairs of their little two-story cottage to gather breakfast in the kitchen while Erza walked down the hallway to wake their slumbering loves. Andre’s room was right next to their bedroom and waking him always took the most effort. But once he heard the promise of breakfast a day with his mothers and sister’s undivided attention he usually took off to the bathroom to get ready. Erza would then go knock on Rhea’s door to make sure she was awake, which she usually was, before helping Andre get pick clothes that at least semi-matched. Then the family of four would eat breakfast together chatting idly about what the plan of the day was.

This is where they ran into a problem. It’s been about two hours since they finished breakfast and yet they still haven’t reached an agreement on what they were going to do today.

Rhea wanted to play with the mega dollhouse Gajeel and Levy had gotten her for her last birthday and insisted it was big enough that the four of them could all play with the dolls together like they used too when she was younger

Andre wanted to go play wizard and ignored all talk of ‘bunny it’s raining outside’. He had the play sword Natsu gifted him perched on his side and waited impatiently by the door for them to join him on his world-saving quest

And Erza couldn’t say she disagreed with him. If not for the fear of the rainstorm turning into a thunderstorm (they all knew of Andre’s bad reaction to thunderstorms and it was their job as parents to protect him from these things) she would be pacing by the door with him. Erza loved running through the hills near the house with her children and wife pretending to search for treasure and fight invisible monsters. She was not able to have this kind of play where there were no actual stakes or real harm involved when she was younger. She felt extremely lucky to be able to do it now

Mirajane wasn’t sure what she wanted to do today. She just knew that neither of those suggestions sounded best. She sat thinking things over as the frustration in the room grew higher and higher.

Finally, Andre snapped.

He raised his play sword into the air and swung it around for good measure. “I gonna go sway drawons on my own then!” He crossed his arms in a huff glaring obviously trying to hide his hurt that they wouldn’t come on his quest with him.

Before his mothers could intervene Rhea moved towards him with her hand on her hips and a stern glare. “No, you’re not! You’re not allowed to leave this house Andre!”. This would be the time that two would intervene and calm things down but everything about Rhea’s posture and disapproving aura reminded Erza so much of a tiny upset Mirajane that she was momentary silenced. All Rhea was missing was that patronizing finger-wag and Erza could swear that she was seeing double. She glanced over at her wife wondering if she saw the mirroring as well, but it was clear that Mirajane was lost in thought. Her wife’s eyes were transfixed on Andre’s sword until she shouted, “Aha!” making the three around her jump.

Mirajane’s smile was wide as she ushered them upstairs. “Come on, I know how were going to spend the day.”

It took hours to make all the costumes, but they came out amazing. Rhea’s dress was sky-blue with Mirajane’s white pearls around her neck and a golden toy crown on top of her head. Mirajane had a dark blue dress with the shining sliver bracelet Erza had gotten her on their anniversary one year and a matching gold crown. Both of their hair were curled and flowed downward in waves. They looked amazing and Mirajane’s heart felt full as watched Rhea twirl around in her dress. Outside of the pillow fort they were hidden inside of they could hear Andre and Erza’s loud whispering of their plan to down the walls and get inside. The two were wearing matching armor that Erza was able to summon for them. Mirajane had her concerns about letting the four-year-old into a full body suit of armor but the twinkle in Andre’s eyes when he tried it on made it hard to say no. It took some getting used too but within a short time Andre was moving around in the heavy suit like second skin to him. With his sword poised and ready he listened to Commander Erza’s calls as they fought through armies of stuffed animals and dodged pillow land mines to reach the pillow fort hiding his mother and sister. They had fought their way from the top floor to the living room to rescue his mommy and sister and then it was going to be his and mama’s turn to dress up prettily and be rescued. Mama lifted her hand in forward motion and they both charged at the stuff animals in their path as mommy and Rhea called for them behind the pillow castle.

All in all, it was a good day.

#femslashfairies2020 #femslash fairies #erzajane #erza x mirajane #ftlgbtales #ftlgbtfics #this was meant to be up days ago but i got some bad news and didn't handle it too well #what better way to cheer up them domestic fluff

[blankdblank]

Anaticula Pt 13

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4 - Pt 5 - Pt 6 - Pt 7 - Pt 8 - Pt 9 - Pt 10 - Pt 11 - Pt 12 -

Back at the Puff table again you sat focusing on your food catching glimpses of Snape and Barty around Quirrell taking turns distracting him from focusing on you at all to help on top of the Occlumency tricks you were trying to hold for the hour long meal. The attention of the Professors and your decided undeserved punishment from Snape on top of the mood of the surly Professor had Ron and Harry already plotting some mischief of their own in repayment. No matter what Hermione, Draco and Neville had told them about the well mannered yet standoffish Professor they had made their minds up and couldn’t be decided otherwise. Through the stolen glances at the teachers’ table you kept spotting Barty’s exasperated expressions towards you at his inability to say something to you.

For his own relaxing he didn’t have to wait long as he managed to slip out along with you feigning a need to ready for his fist lesson. Rubbing his hands over his face and into his hair now upright entirely, pocketing his glasses he waited for you to slip out of the sea of students to his side. “One question. What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

Your brows furrowed and you answered, “Well, you’re either saying your regrets follow me to the grave, or you’re pulling a Juliet.”

His brow inched up and the twins clarified, “The Draught of Living Death. Alive but seeming dead, like in-,”

He nodded, “Romeo and Juliet, yes-.” He wet his lips, “Your cousin, Harry,” he shook his head absolutely lost for words.

You chuckled answering, “He’s the boy who lived, not the boy who studied.”

Barty nodded with brows raised and lips pursed for a moment, “Just like James then.” He paused again and added, “He didn’t even know where a bezoar comes from! If we don’t get him to focus on his studies-!”

Twins, “He’s doomed.”

Barty nodded and you giggled again, “I will do my best, but outside bribing him with Quidditch practice and tips it’s been a bit hard to hold him down long enough. If anything he just got chosen as Seeker, you could have Madame Hooch impose some sort of academic restrictions for teams.” That offer gaining an approving tick of his head to the side.

George, “Even Draco enjoys a good read every now and then, and you can’t pry Neville’s books away, same with Hermi.”

Barty nodded and rubbed his hand over his chin and you smirked up at him drawing his eyes back to you twitching them wider at your expression, “Big plans for class?”

His grin split across his face, “Yes! You are in for a treat!” his eyes narrowed playfully, “No surprises though. Off you pop, you need your rest.” Nodding his head to the side in his turn away for his office you three grinned continuing on to trot to join up with Cedric.

Giggling at his expression George split from your side allowing Cedric against yours while you said, “My cousin Harry is not so impressive in his studies as my other cousins.”

Cedric chuckled, “Yes, I did hear some mentions of him being given a supposed hard time by Snape. But then again Snape isn’t easy on any of us, even you three even more so demanding of you.”

“Either way, we’ll see how this plays out, if he picks it up or not.”

.

Sleep went remarkably well for you, a dull dream about sorting jellybeans by color and perfection in shape ended with your alarm. Dully you groaned stroking Idris’ beak in his low drowsy hum after a late night flying with Fawkes. Rolling over to get out of bed you ducked under the hammock holding Opal and you were on to dressing and heading down for a simple breakfast after. Though between an odd so called robbery in which nothing was taken and the morning bunch of letters containing a bundle of replies to all you had sent as well as to share all they had been told so far by the Professors.

Across the front page of the Daily Prophet you read the words, ‘Break-in at Gringotts!’ With parted lips you read the vague story about a break in to the empty vault 713. Supposedly it had been cleared out beforehand, and the owner refused to share the contents of the vault to aid in tracking down the culprits.

A tap on your shoulder turned your head and Cedric, who was reading over your shoulder claimed the paper as you turned to find Draco, who sat between you and George, who moved instantly, taking the three first years on his right to scoot away from their plates with forks in their mouths. A simple scoop of their arms brought their food back to them as you accepted the letter Draco passed you.

A seething letter from Lucius filled three pages of family expectations before he final sentence that by weeks end Draco would be in Durmstrang. A brief wave of the letter copied it and sent it to appear floating in front of Minerva. A dab of her lips with her napkin later she set aside her egg sandwich to claim the letter Albus joined her in reading at her hushed comments.

The pen on her breast pocket was drawn and on the back of the last page was a simple note, “To avoid this Draco could become a ward of the school. Refusing under his own rights for his education where he feels protected. I will start the paperwork, though your father will have to fill out some forms to assure he has a place to return to for breaks.”

The deal was accepted and the forms for your father appeared before you bound in twine. Adding a simple note you raised your fingers to your lips letting out a trilling whistle drawing a giddy screech from your owl waiting up in the rafters for any sign of a post from you. A drastic swoop and the bundle in your raised hand was claimed and raced off towards the ministry for your father.

Turning your head your arm looped around Draco’s shoulders to lowly say by his ear, “No matter what you’ll have a home with us. Lucius’ll come around. Don’t you worry about that judgmental old goat”

Draco chuckled leaning into your side hug grinning at your peck on his forehead before turning around on the bench, “I should get back to breakfast or Ron will come after me to finish our match.”

You nodded, “And no worries, I’ll have K fetch your things just in case.” Draco nodded and at the appearance of the house elf at his feet he eased around to walk back to his table pocketing the letter, feeling the weight of the agonizing change and tear from his family and friends at Hogwarts fall away.

K, “Mistress?”

“Morning, sorry it’s so early. Could you please head to Malfoy Manor and gather all Draco’s things and take them to his room at our home please?”

He nodded his head with a grin, “Of course. I would be honored to. Young Draco shall return on break to a pristine room.”

Your soft giggle filled your turn back to the table as Cedric mumbled over his mouthful of food, “They’re bartering for another dragon. Says it wouldn’t have happened if their escaped one wasn’t missing.”

“As if they’ll ever give them another one. 713 isn’t even close to the lowest keep either way.”

Twins, “They won’t get one.”

One by one as they continued to pour through the paper you read through the replies from your father, uncle and Remus. All of whom supporting your extra lessons and reminded you they were there for you when and if needed. Lastly you read through Ginny’s letter just dripping with boredom at being the last kid home alone. That letter similar to those she wrote to all her brothers around the room in silent agreement to start sending her a flurry of letters as often as they could while Hermione had started making small activity packets with all she learned so Ginny would feel at least in some way to be part of the lessons until the first break.

.

Magical creatures 8

Professor Kettleburn grinned widely in this greatly anticipated lesson on Hippogriffs. All of you set your bags aside and formed a ring around the clearing the tan and white speckled Hippogriff stood proudly with his side to you all chirping at a crow that kept hopping closer to him on top of a fence post fluffing up his wings baiting him on. Clearing his throat Kettleburn drew the attention of the creature who turned to you all curiously looking at all of you.

A simple introduction of the creature was followed up by a fill in on how to tend to it. Simple instructions were given on how to greet him properly and the first of you were welcomed to approach him to stroke him if allowed to. Eagerly you stepped forward only to have the Hippogriff squawk and move closer to you excitedly as he had for the twins, openly pressing his head into your palm after your years of sneaking into the forest and bumping into him. The end of the class came with the girls in your class squealing in disgust at the ferrets being tossed to the hungry beast leaping and bounding around to catch the ones tossed to him.

.

DADA 9

A gentle drizzle brought your wands out for air umbrella charms for the trot inside to head up to the greatly dreaded double DA class. Up to the final hall you reminded yourself to calm your mind and outside the door you focused on your mental wall to aid in defending yourself. Instantly you felt Quirrell’s eyes on you as you saw the empty class leading you to move to the row of cupboards along the wall you left your bag in front of by the twins’ and Cedric’s. In a group you watched the Professor move closer to you all saying, “Today we are covering the Seize and Pull Charm.”

Hushed whispers rippled through the students around you died as he continued, “This charm is usually used to either draw an item towards you or to draw yourself closer to an immovable object.”

Turning to his side a selections of items were set across a table and he stated, “First up, Miss Black.” Your brow inched up and he added, “You have been tasked for tutoring younger students, no doubt this should come easily to you then.” His head nodded to the side and you moved closer eyeing the table saying, “Carpe Retractum, simple and easy. First a movable object then tug yourself to an immovable object.”

In the selection you eyed each of them noting the random hexes on each of them, all miniscule yet troublesome to reverse leaving you to choose the least of them. A simple wave of your wand through the silent charm parted his lips seeing the tiny train car flying towards you at the end of an orange beam of light. Barely an inch from the tip of your wand your lips pursed feeling your ears shift on their own as a pair of rabbit ears in dark black fur popped out of the top of your head as an overpowering taste of carrot filled your mouth. A deep sigh left you and you sent the item back again to the table through Quirrell saying, “If you are to defend yourselves you must be ready to anticipate each and every possible hex hidden in every day items.”

Looking you over after having moved the train aside he replaced with another from a basket behind the table, he said, “Now, pull yourself to an immovable object.”

At the glint of proud arrogance in his eyes you raised your wand and his lips parted at your floating up to the rafters one handed before you dropped again to your feet to head back to the group. Sheathing your wand again you turned to watch the others with arms crossed focusing on anything but the taste in your mouth nearly making you gag until you found one of your palette cleansing candies easing the taste for you. The casual slip of the candy between your lips brought the glint of gold on the band of Morfin’s ring to Quirrell’s attention.

Around each student’s turn he took circles around the room, and to steal a closer look at your ring. Tucked under the sleeve of your flannel reaching out from under your Puff jacket he caught a glimpse of it up close brushing your hair behind your shoulder. To aid in the screaming teen from the boils appearing across his skin he brushed past you only to pause at the searing pain under his sleeve for a moment. Mentally he issued a numbing spell to hold his pain off until he could inspect the source of the sudden pain and continued to aid the screaming student.

A glint of silver passed over your eyes and you saw a young teen with pitch black hair and familiar blue eyes. Slytherin green flashed on a scarf under his heavy coat, in a long path over freshly fallen snow to the wafting echoes of Christmas carols you were again at Godric’s Hollow. Just past the old cemetery you were following the teen clamping your eyes shut in his murdering Morfin Gaunt, who told him where to find Tom Riddle Sr. The entire Riddle family was there, and after casting him out as another freak signaling him to kill them.

On the end of that memory you shifted to another. Deep under a hazy fog you heard “Quirinus!” A woman called out his name and a cry of a young boy followed by crunching footsteps. A manticore broke through the mist following after the boy until his trip and blow to the head on a set of upturned roots fading the memory as your eyes flashed back to normal again. The second memory confirming for you that Quirrell was still in there somewhere.

.

History of magic 10

Eventually the class came to an end and you were among the first to leave, still sporting your bunny ears with the fox and bear eared twins beside Cedric and koala ears after choosing the least harmful items you pointed them towards. All between the burned, boil coated and variously disfigured students ignoring your subtle hints for what to choose. Through the back path you guided the others through easily you arrived at Professor Binns’ classroom. The open doorway revealed the open mouthed Professor staring at you all dumbfounded for a moment until he all but growled aloud and snarled out, “Come now. We can easily move our class to the Hospital Wing.” His eyes shifted to you, “Evans, could you three manage the blackboard?”

You nodded, “No problem.”

Floating ahead of the bashful and pained students the snarling Professor grumbled to himself about the uselessness of the new Defense teacher who disregarded your safety and didn’t bother to teach you the counter spells at all.

Fully set up across the spread of beds you all eyed the board at each item added across it to add to your notes through your struggle not to pay too much attention to Madame Pomfrey in her own private instruction to each of you on the hexes you had been dealt and the easiest ways to break them. Halfway through however word from her had found Dumbledore and in he strode with a stunned expression hearing what hexes he had unleashed on you without aid to counter them. Each of you were checked to ensure he had apologized to each of you, assuring that he would speak to Quirrell. At you, however, he paused spotting the familiar ring on your finger as you brushed your hair from your face in taking notes.

A grin from you silenced his concern and you assured him you did not require an apology, a sentiment most of the others had shared. “Oh, my ring, yes. My uncle took us to meet Professor Slughorn few years back, found it near Mum’s grave.”

Fred and George nodded, “Glint in the brush round the back of a cottage.”

A weak grin eased across his lips and he replied, “It seems you were meant to find it then.”

 .

Muggle Studies Sun, Tue, Sat 11

A small group of you continued on when the class had ended, the others off to free periods helped to take the blackboard back up again as you and the twins were off to Muggle Studies and Cedric was off to join in on the Puff Paper he had joined the year prior to add small comics  from time to time. Now he was trying his hand at short stories and researching books to review for his own column.

“Morning Class!” Looking over the few of you seated in his cramped classroom Professor Tennant’s grin doubles, “Now for today, I thought we could start off with some Physics.”

Smoothing his hands, the sound of aww’s and Oh’s filled the room and he scoffed, “No Aww’s! Now, the closest Muggles get to magic is science. Wondrous thing and I am going to show you why.” The glint in his eye flashed brightly and even the most skeptical in the room was in awe at the tricks he showed you, but freedom called and most of your classmates rushed out to their own whims in the free period. A wide grin spread across Barty’s face as he neared you asking, “Well?”

Softly giggling you replied, “Not bad.”

Fred and George nodded as Cedric commented, “Nowhere near how Quirrell’s class went.”

The Professor’s brow ticked upwards, “What happened?”

Fred, “Nothing new,”

George, “Just a Professor forcing his students to touch hexed objects.”

His mouth fell open and you shouldered your bags grinning at him, “Dumbledore said he’d talk to him. We’ll leave you to your next class.” Subtly winking at him, “We have a garlic bomb to set off.”

Stealing a glance at his entering next class he grinned at you saying, “Let me know how that fares.”

George, “We’ve got a few more on the list already timed out to go off each day.”

Fred, “Quirrell won’t know what hit him.”

.

An hour long break was all you had, and timing it just perfectly you set off a garlic bomb in Quirrell’s class right as his leg bumped the basket his hexed items were held in. With that completed and no sign of any boils spreading across his skin you ticked it off the list and flew away from your hidden perch in the high window back to the open breezeway on your way to head back to your dorm. A sudden screech however halted your path to reach up and form a perch for a large reddish owl that gave you an awkward tick of its head. Chuckling to yourself you said, “It’s Newt’s owl.”

In a steady shuffle the owl moved to your shoulder and you turned over the letter in your fingers. A flick of your fingers the seal broke and you joined Cedric who asked, “Any luck?”

Fred, “No boils.”

Cedric huffed and scribbled it out of the journal you had made for the task as your bags floated off the ground back to your shoulders. George took a peek over your shoulder asking, “What’s new with Newt?”

Wetting your lips you said, “He says Hemlock & Hippogriff are still deliberating on my admission.”

Cedric, “Does it usually take this long?”

You shrugged, “Not a clue. Even Charlie hasn’t heard back yet.”

George, “We did hear him mention even Newt’s took nearly three years to hear an answer himself and he wrote a whole book on mystical creatures.”

Flipping the page over you kept reading in your trot down the steps, “Hmm, a lot of questions about Tulip’s shedding.”

Fred, “No doubt he misses her.”

Cedric, “Or he could be trying to code something to you.”

“Code?”

Cedric nodded, “Like a hint of something.”

Fred, “Maybe he thinks the judges might want to see her?”

George grinned as you said, “Or just proof of her.”

A chuckle left you in your trot down the last few steps leading to the first of the maze of halls to your dorm where you got started on your assignment from History after sending off an offer to send off her skin once she was done shedding it, if he so wished, as coyly as you could possibly muster.

.

Lunch followed and muddled in the wave of garlic coming from Quirrell you caught the scent of a burn cream. Unknowingly to you in privacy once his course with the first years after yours was through at receiving a similar pain from accepting a paper from Harry he slipped into his office to find a pair of third degree burns on his arm that had come into contact with you. A subtle slip of another herb into the mashed potatoes on the wizard was missed between Snape and Barty’s turns at distracting him with another in his boiled and seasoned veggies as well. Both useless and crossed off their own lists. Focusing on your meal you wondered what would face in the rest of the day.

Break at 2 freed you into the homey class of Professor Snape. The tall man eyed you three with a hint of a grin on his face seeing a note for you on your desk at another hidden spice he had passed to Quirrell to be crossed off the list as well in breakfast.

A complicated slew of potions were set in front of you with a grand prize of seventy points for the house the first two to complete the most potions properly. After that the majority of those completing the most properly in a single house gain twenty points for their house. Behind his desk he stood saying, “Kindly do not let the record three correct for Gryffindor beat either of your houses. My own house barely got four and I am expecting five from the both of you if usual grades from past years hold true.”

Each list was different and all at varied levels of skills and with a supply of three cauldrons for each station granted you a greater chance of winning. For you at least you chose the most technical, one that you could make in your sleep with two of the simplest. One by one the entire room breezed through a good chunk of the list, proving Snape right that your houses would focus on the competition without actually trying to sabotage or distract one another. Each completed cauldron would be collected by Snape to be traded with another for testing at his desk blindly as he kept his own tally at his desk.

The final marks had you and the part Veela girl at the top two earning a round of cheers at your mutual boots in points and another at the win by one potion in favor of Ravenclaw for the second boost of twenty points. The homework to add more points would be to come up with as many uses for each of the ones you had brewed up along with another point each for re-brewing those that you failed on.

.

Charms brought on another challenge with the Puff’s winning and a tie for both houses in Transfigurations after. Between your classes it was a clear show of which houses would be heading academically, first years didn’t really care for the academic House Cup, same as the seventh years. Their main interest was the Quidditch cup, of which Ravenclaw had just barely stolen it away from you the year prior with your house taking the House Cup on academics, this year you had hoped to steal both away for your own.

The first task in passing over your assignment early in Ancient Runes they were added to the stack from your fellow classmates. Again another testing translation packet was passed out while your efforts were monitored and just barely you had discovered the final language for the final word in the jumble of runes filling the seven pages you were given. A hasty scribble of the word later and you added it to the pile and exhaled through filling your bag again for Professor Babbling to eagerly trot over saying, “I reread The Three Brothers!”

You all grinned back and Fred replied, “We did too.”

Cedric, “Quite a tale.”

She nodded, “Yes. I know some like to imagine it based off real trio of brothers, however, I simply treasure the symbolism of the tale in itself.”

In depth she delved into each element for a good half hour until her eyes shifted to the clock and she said, “Oh dear me, I should let you drop off your things before dinner.” Smiling widely at you as she named the next tale in the book she wished to discuss the following day. Finally free you three left Cedric to rush off to the dorm as you found Myrtle’s bathroom again, through the doorway you caught her cocky giggling self and she cackled out, “The other boy came and went long ago. Run, run and catch him.”

With a brow raised you asked, “Were you this outgoing when you attended here?”

She shook her head, “Not in the least. My life was perfectly dreadful.”

Your head tilted and you replied, “Whose isn’t these days.” Parting her lips in confusion as Fred flicked the time turner sending you back with just barely enough time to head back to Divination at six pm once again.

.

With a knot in your stomach you hurried your way over to the North Tower, climbing the Divination stairwell to do so until you found classroom eleven. Through a narrow hall that fed into the stacked seating in a half circle across from Professor Trelawney’s desk with a crystal ball on the top of it beside a stack of sticks and what looked to be dominoes. Right in your path Trelawney herself grinned at you in her step into your path shifting her palms against one another in front of her chest. “I was so pleased to hear you had signed up for my class Miss Black. Out of the students entering these halls these past years I do believe I might have the most to offer you.”

As she stepped aside you saw the final open table right up front spreading her grin even wider as she took her place in front of you all, blinking through the heavy wall of incense you made your way to the open cushions around the last table settling your bags beside you. “So you have chosen to study Divination, the most difficult of all magical arts. I must warn you at the outset that if you do not have the Sight, there is very little I will be able to teach you. Books can take you only so far in this field...”

In a sweep over the class she stated, “Firstly we should start simple, Chinese fortune sticks.” A wave of her hand had a bundle of sticks float out to each of your tables before she said, “Now, one of you clutch the sticks and then simply hold the bundle over the table and release them. I will guide you in interpretations.

George chuckled taking hold of the bundle he lowered and released as the tables of two all silently voted for the first volunteer. Table by table she did explain the sticks leaving yours for last, sighing already at the skeptical gazes of the other students until she eyed the fixed gaze you were holding on the stack seeing a flying pie flash into your mind. Blinking at her soft, “What do you see?”

The other students shifted in their seats noticing your glance at George before saying, “Something about a flying pie.”

Fred, “Booby trap perhaps?”

You shrugged, “Looked like it was in a closet.”

Trelawney eyed you and then the sticks, tilting her head through a grin cracking onto her face again, “Yes, I see it now. Peeves will anger the Bloody Baron again. Mind the East Wing.”

George nodded and through the chatter of students she rose and then started at the first table again, “Another staple of Divination is Astrology. Under each of your placemats is a sheet I would like for you to fill out and I will again guide you in deciphering them.”

For the remainder of the class she did exactly as she said giving people their assumed week ahead off what information they had placed on the page. It was seven by the time she got to you three and the others didn’t hesitate to hurry out of the room leaving you alone with Trelawney, who really couldn’t care at that point for how little they all seemed to care compared to her and you three, who seemed to be the only ones to give the course a chance.

A basic list of your Aries traits were listed off before a muddled set of weeks ahead. Fred’s left him the target of an attack meant for another, confusing you as George was the one you saw needing to avoid the pie. George’s left him supposedly trapped under a pile of books. Lastly you drew her eyes to your curious gaze that twisted in confusion as she said you would be sleeplessly chasing an empty mirror.

Your brows furrowed as you questioned it only for her to send you off to lunch, “I will meditate on the meaning of this and get back to you.” With a nod you made your way down to the dorms to drop off your bag, running into Percy along the way.

Percy, “How’s your jumping schedule going?”

The three of you groaned replying, “Ugh, I am starving!”

Percy chuckled replying, “It helps to stash some treats to snack on along the way. For Divinations especially.”

Curiously you eyed Snape in his path ahead of you exiting a hall with your eyes narrowed feeling a familiarity. Softly you gasped and dropped your bag lunging forward tackling Snape with the twins after wondering what you had seen. Percy, seeing a closet fly open he wrapped his arms around the twins, trying to tug them free of the line of fire only for a pie to soar out of it that exploded into snow at a flick of your newly drawn wand. At your side Snape had rolled over and eyed the closet and the boys blinking in confusion at the empty door for Fred and George to say, “Huh. Guess she was right.”

Carefully you helped Snape up, apologizing softly as you brushed off a strip of dust from his sleeve at his asking, “Who was right?”

Twins, “Professor Trelawney.”

Snape nodded, “Ah.” Turning to face you he asked, “What was your future?”

“Apparently I will be sleeplessly chasing an empty mirror.” Making his brow inch up, you shrugged, “I don’t get it either, but she said she’d meditate on it.”

Tilting his head he said, “We should hurry or all the best will be snapped up.” Giving you a glint of mischief in his eyes cluing you into the trio of herbs tonight snuck into Quirrell’s meal all proving to be a dud along with the two other subtle tests that had gone off with failed results of signaling a possession. At least you had made it through a decent portion of the list so far and at this rate it shouldn’t take very long for you to get through it at all.

@obsessionsofmynerdheart

Pt 14

#Fred and George Weasley #Cedric Diggory #Barty Crouch Jr #Snape #minerva mcgonagall #Quirrell #Draco #Professor Binns #Madame Pomfrey #Moaning Myrtle #Professor Trelawney

[pinkevilbobdoesthings]

Guess who forgot to post the second chapter of ‘The Mess’ on tumblr? Me ... it was me...

____________________________

Caleb held Frumpkin carefully in his arms. Nott had told him that she, Yeza, and Luc had to leave for a wedding, but that didn’t mean that he felt anymore comfortable being alone in the apartment. Part of him debating just sleeping outside, but he couldn’t do that to Frumpkin.

The Brenattos had left in the morning, and it didn’t really hit Caleb how gone they were until that evening. And then all at once the feeling of being alone hit him. He locked all the doors and double checked them over and over and over and over and over again. Focusing on his homework was just not an option.

A knock came from the front door, and Caleb nearly jumped a foot in the air. Frumpkin mreoowed in annoyance at Caleb. “Sorry,” Caleb mumbled. He checked the peephole at the door and Jester was standing there. “What is she doing here?” he asked Frumpkin. Caleb liked Jester, but other than the time with the buttons, she only came over while Nott was there.

Caleb’s phone jingled that it had a text from Nott. -cleb o nvited jester ovr for movie night and frgot bout weding. Keeep her conpany ples- After deciphering that Nott had invited Jester to come over to watch movies and forgot that she was going to be out of town, Caleb sighed and opened the door. “Nott’s not here.”

“She’s not? But she said that we were going to watch Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries tonight,” Jester said with a hint of the pout.

“She forgot that she had to go to a wedding today. Nott will be back tomorrow though,” Caleb said.

Jester’s phone buzzed. “Oh, it’s Nott.” She carefully read the text. “Can I watch a movie with you?”

“I’m not really one for murder mysteries,” Caleb said. “They make Frumpkin uncomfortable.”

“We could watch something else since mysteries make Frumpkin uncomfortable.” Jester scratched Frumpkin behind his ear.

“Frumpkin likes documentaries,” Caleb said.

Jester looked up with a smile. “Has he seen the one on cat shows yet? I think he’d like it.”

Caleb shook his head. “No. Frumpkin doesn’t have a lot of time to watch tv.”

“Oh? Why’s he so busy?”

“He’s helping me with my studies,” Caleb said.

Jester scratched Frumpkin under the chin. “You do, Frumpkin? You’re such a smart boy.”

“He is,” Caleb agreed. “Frumpkin makes sure that I’m focused and not interrupted.”

“Frumpkin, you’re amazing you know that right?”

Caleb smiled down at his cat. “I hope he does.” Frumpkin let out a loud low purr.

“See, he totally knows.” Jester continued scratching Frumpkin’s chin. “So can Frumpkin make room in his busy schedule to watch a movie with me?”

Caleb frowned. He didn’t like the idea of giving up Frumpkin even for just a few hoursm and he was a little disappointed that Jester hadn’t invited him to watch a movie with her. But he didn’t want to disappoint Jester. “Oh, um, I suppose you two can watch a movie together. I’ll just work on my homework in my room.”

“Caleb? Don’t you want to watch it with us?” Jester asked.

“I’m invited?”

Jester giggled. “Of course you are. It wouldn’t be fun without you.”

“Ja. Okay then,” Caleb said. He could feel a blush start to creep over his cheeks, but he ignored it. It wasn’t in him to feel like that anymore, Caleb reminded himself. “Is it okay if I bring out my homework to work on?”

“Sure.” But Jester looked almost disappointed.

Caleb frowned. “Are you sure? I can leave it in my room.” He was falling behind schedule, but seeing Jester look even slightly sad was hard for him to bear.

“No. Really, Caleb it’s fine. I get that your studies are important,” Jester said.

“Danke,” Caleb said. “I’ve got an essay due in organic chemistry next week.”

“What’s it on?”

Caleb made a face. “The use of alkane derivatives of steroids as biomarkers.”

“I understood maybe three words of that sentence. You don’t like it much I’m guessing?” Jester asked leaning in closer.

“Not really. Despite majoring in chemistry, I’ve never really had much of a talent for organic chemistry,” Caleb said.

“Can you just pretend it’s a subject you like, then? That’s what I do on papers for classes I don’t like,” Jester said.

Caleb frowned at this. “I don’t think that would work.”

“Just pretend that it’s just normal chemistry.”

“It really doesn’t work like that,” Caleb said. “There are major fundamental differences.”

“Could you write it like you’re explaining it to a normal chemistry person?” Jester asked.

Caleb rubbed his chin. “I guess that could work.”

“It’s that or make up a bunch of junk,” Jester said. “That’s what I do.”

“I’m pretty sure I’ve done that too many times to get away with that with his professor,” Caleb said.

“That sucks. Still want to watch the cat show doc with me?” Jester asked. The smile on her face was just pleading enough to make Caleb melt a little.

Caleb nodded. “Ja. I think Frumpkin will enjoy it very much.”

******

Jester fell asleep halfway through the documentary. Caleb was very aware of this fact as she had fallen asleep pressed up against him. He tried to ignore her, but he was finding it considerably difficult. And he couldn’t just move or push her away. That would be like moving Frumpkin off of his lap, and Caleb didn’t have it in him.

The documentary ended and Netflix automatically started playing a show about dogs. Caleb couldn’t help but feel a little bit betrayed. “Jester” he whispered. “Jester, the movie’s over.”

Jester mumbled, stretched and then settled back into Caleb.

“Frumpkin,” Caleb whispered, “help me.”

Frumpkin sauntered over to Jester and licked her nose.

“Frumpkin,” Jester said just barely awake. “Frumpkin, you’re so nice and cute. You’re nearly as nice and cute as your owner.”

Caleb turned beet red. She couldn’t have meant it. There was no way she actually meant it.

“It’s a good thing that you smell better than him though.” Okay, that she meant. “You take good care of Caleb.” Jester snuggled into Caleb more and fell back asleep.

Caleb stared down at her. He had no clue what any of this could mean. If he took it at face value, it meant that Jester liked him, but Caleb knew himself too well to think that anyone would actually like him. So Jester must’ve been confusing him for someone else.

Ever so gently and carefully, Caleb set a pillow under Jester’s head and slipped away. It was better this way.

********

Jester woke up to being shaken roughly. Groggily, she opened an eye to see Caleb over her still shaking her shoulder. A look of panic covered his face. “Caleb? What’s the matter?”

“Frumpkin’s sick,” Caleb said. He paced the floor. “I don’t know what happened. He’s sick.”

Jester rested a hand on Caleb’s arm.”What’s going on?”

“He’s puking. Twice in an hour. That’s not normal. I don’t know what to do.” Caleb shook as he looked at Jester and she’d rarely seen a more pathetic sight.

“Is your vet open?”

“In 27 minutes,” Caleb said. “They’re not open yet.”

Jester got up from the couch with a stretch. It hadn’t even entered her mind until then to wonder where she was, but she must have fallen asleep while watching the documentary. “We’ll call anyways. See if they’ll answer to take appointments. Beau’s got a car. We can beg her for a ride.”

“Beau?” Caleb said as he picked up Frumpkin. The cat mewed weakly.

“My roommate. She’s super cool.” Jester grabbed her bag. “Do you need me to call the vet?”

Caleb looked at her like she had given him the moon. “Would you?”

Jester smiled gently at him. “Sure.” She called the number Caleb gave her, but it went straight to voicemail. “There’s an emergency care vet on the northside of town. We can take Frumpkin there.”

Caleb nodded numbly.

“Frumpkin’s going to be okay, Caleb,” Jester said.

“I can’t lose him,” Caleb said. “I can’t.”

Jester put a hand on Caleb’s shoulder. “I know. We’ll get him to the vet.”

Caleb hung back as Jester managed to bribe Beau into getting out of bed before 8 AM on a Saturday. “You owe me. Big time,” Beau said as she pulled on a cleanish shirt.

“I know,” Jester said. “I wouldn’t asked if it wasn’t an emergency. Besides you said you wanted to meet the mysterious Caleb.”

“Yeah, but I wanted it to be during daytime hours and just because the sun’s up doesn’t make it day,” Beau grumbled. She stared at Caleb once she got to the hall.

“This is Caleb,” Jester said. “He’s super shy, but nice.”

Beau pulled Jester back and whispered in her ear. “You didn’t tell me he was the library hobo.”

“Library hobo?” This was the first time she had ever heard anyone call Caleb that.

“Yeah. He used to hide out in the library all the time and would take books without checking them out properly, but the university refused to do anything about him,” Beau said.

“Why would they do that?” Jester asked.

Beau shrugged. “No clue. But he must be the Brenatto’s problem now.”

“He’s not a problem,” Jester hissed.

Beau just pointed at Caleb who was nearly in tears as he held onto Frumpkin.

“He’s … just a little sensitive,” Jester said. “Caleb’s not a bad guy.”

“He’s just a whole lot of weird then. Alright Caleb!” Beau called out making Caleb jump. He was very jumpy, so Jester couldn’t entirely get annoyed with Beau for that. “Let’s roll out.”

Caleb was silent the whole ride to the emergency vet. Beau turned up her radio to drown out the quiet. Jester kept turning back to look at Caleb. He kept his head down close to Frumpkin’s.

Finally they got to the vet. “You two are on your own. I don’t do hospitals even if they’re for animals,” Beau said as she dropped them off.

Caleb shook like a leaf in front of the emergency vet. Jester squeezed his shoulder. “It’s going to be okay. They’ll take good care of Frumpkin.”

Jester ended up having to fill out the paperwork for Caleb. He was so nervous he couldn’t hold his pen steady. And then all they could do was wait.

“Sooooo,” Jester said filling in the silence, “how long have you had Frumpkin?”

“Close to six months,” Caleb said. “5 months and 27 days. He was so tiny when I found him I had to feed him with a bottle. I can’t lose him.”

Jester nodded. “I know. I think he knows that too. I’m sure he knows how much you love him.”

Frumpkin licked Caleb’s hand. “I, I was in a bad place before I found him.”

“Where did you find him?”

“Outside. It was raining,” Caleb said. “There was a meowing and I found him. Kinda like how Nott found me.”

“Like Nott found you?” Jester had just figured that there was just some kind of placement program at the university or something.

Caleb looked away. “I started college when I was much younger. And then I got sick. … in the head ... and I had to stay in the hospital for a long time. When I was released, I went back to school and then Nott found me.”

“She’s very nice,” Jester said feeling like she had to say something, but nothing else felt right to say at the moment.

“Ja, she is. So is Yeza. They’re more than I deserve.”

“I don’t think it works like that,” Jester said. “Like I don’t think we get to have friends and stuff just because we deserve them. I think it’s more because we need them than anything else.”

Caleb stared at her for a moment, but she couldn’t read his expression but she felt a sorrow from it. “It’s more a need? Well, I hope you have all the friends you need and more.”

“I have a ton of friends, but there’s always room for more you know,” Jester said. “And I hope you get all the friends you need too.”

Just then a nurse called for Frumpkin. “Come with me?” Caleb asked. There was a pained sound in his voice.

“Of course,” Jester said.

**********************

“See,” Jester said, “there was nothing to worry about.”

The vet had declared that Frumpkin just had an upset stomach from eating too rich of table scraps, but that it was a good thing that Caleb brought Frumpkin in just in case. She did prescribe some pepto-bismol for Frumpkin and to keep an eye on him while eating.

Relief filled Caleb as they left the vet’s office. “Ja. Thank you, Jester. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“No problem, Caleb. That’s what friends are for,” Jester said.

He froze. She couldn’t really think that they were friends. Jester deserved better than to put up with him. Caleb looked down at Frumpkin and then relaxed. It wasn’t Caleb she was friends with but Frumpkin. That made sense. Everyone should be friends with Frumpkin. No one in their right mind would be friends with Caleb. But he had to make sure that Jester knew better than to be his friend. “When she gets back, you should talk to Nott and ask her how she met me.”

Jester seemed confused but she nodded anyways. “Ok. Is it a story she tells better than you?”

“I believe so.” Caleb didn’t have it in him to tell her just how terrible he was.

________________________________________

Notes:

Right, so, I probably owe you guys an apology for how angsty this chapter got. The plot is picking up now so it's probably not going to get much fluffier from here.

I hope you guys liked it.

#widojest #critical role fan fiction #pinkevilbob writes #sorry about that guys

[sataniccapitalist]

FEBRUARY 18, 2019

31 Actual National Emergencies

 by PAUL STREET

A Wannabe Strongman’s Brown Menace Straw Man

Everyone with five functioning gray cells knows that the aspiring fascist strongman Donald Trump’s Declaration of a National Emergency on the U.S.-Mexico border is absurd.

There is no “national security crisis” of illegal immigration on the southern United States border.

Illegal crossings are not at “emergency” levels; they are at a fifty-year low.

Undocumented immigrants are not a crime and violence threat.  They are less likely to commit crimes, violent ones included, than naturalized U.S. citizens.

Drugs come into the U.S. not through gaps in border fencing but primarily through legal ports of entry.

There is no big call for a completed U.S.-Mexico wall on the part of U.S. citizens on the southern border.

The United States military has not been “breaking up” and blocking “monstrous caravans” of illegal immigrants trying to harm the U.S.

The only crisis at the border is the humanitarian one created by Trump’s war on asylum-seekers and legal as well as technically illegal immigrants. The wannabe strongman has set up a ridiculous brown menace strawman in an effort to take an unprecedented step. He wants to use the National Emergencies Act to fulfill a ridiculous campaign promises to his white-nationalist base.  He wants to make an end run around Congress to spend federal taxpayer on a project that lawmakers chose not to fund – a political vanity scheme that is opposed by 60 percent of the U.S. populace.

Actual National Emergencies

An irony here is that the United States today is in fact haunted by many actual and interrelated national emergencies.  Here below are the top thirty-one that came to the present writer’s mind this last weekend:

1. Class Inequality. America is mired in a New Gilded Age where economic disparity is so extreme now that the top thousandth (the 0.1 percent, not just the 1 Percent) possesses more wealth than the bottom U.S. 90 percent and three absurdly rich U.S.-Americans – Jeff Bezos, Bill Gates, and Warren Buffett – possess more wealth between them than the bottom half of the country.

2. Poverty. The nation’s 540 billionaires (Trump is one of them) enjoy lives of unimaginable opulence (Trump flew off to one of his resorts to play golf after declaring his “national emergency” – an “emergency” he foolishly said he didn’t actually have to declare) while 15 million children – 21% of all U.S. children – live in families with incomes below the federal poverty threshold, a measurement that has been shown to be drastically below the minimally adequate family budgets families require to meet basic expenses.

3. Plutocracy. “We must make our choice,” onetime Supreme Court Justice Louis Brandies wrote in 1941. “We may have democracy, or we may have wealth concentrated in the hands of a few, but we can’t have both.” Consistent with Brandeis’s warning, the leading mainstream political scientists Benjamin Page and Martin Gilens find through exhaustive research that “the best evidence indicates that the wishes of ordinary Americans actually have had little or no impact on the making of federal government policy.  Wealthy individuals and organized interest groups – especially business corporations – have had much more political clout.  When they are taken into account, it becomes apparent that the general public has been virtually powerless…Government policy,” Page and Gilens determined, “reflects the wishes of those with money, not the wishes of the millions of ordinary citizens who turn out every two years to choose among the preapproved, money-vetted candidates for federal office.” Economic power is so concentrated in the US today you can count on one hand and one finger the multi-trillion-dollar financial institutions that control the nation’s economic and political life: Citigroup, Goldman Sachs, JP Morgan Chase, Wells Fargo, Bank of America, and Morgan Stanley. “You have no choice,” George Carlin used to tell his audiences earlier this century, “You have owners. They own you. They own everything. They own all the important land. They own and control the corporations. They’ve long since bought and paid for the Senate, the Congress, the state houses, the city halls. They got the judges in their back pockets and they own all the big media companies, so they control just about all of the news and information you get to hear.”

4. Bad Jobs. Trump boasts of American job creation and low official unemployment rate (real joblessness is a different story) while deleting the fact that tens of millions of the nation’s workers struggle with jobs whose pay lags far behind employment growth thanks to declining unionization (down to 6.5% of the private-sector workforce due to decades of relentless employer hostility), inadequate minimum wages, globalization, automation, and outsourcing. A third of the nation’s workers make less than $12 an hour ($24,960 a year assuming full-time work) and 42% get less than $15 ($31,200 a year). Good luck meeting a family’s food, rent, childcare, medical, and car payment (car ownership is often required in a nation that lacks adequate public transportation) costs on those kinds of returns on labor power. The Federal Reserve Bank of New York recently reported that a record 7 million U.S.-Americans are three months or more behind on their par payments. As the Washington Post reports: “Economists warn this is a red flag. Despite the strong economy and low unemployment rate, many Americans are struggling to pay their bills. ‘The substantial and growing number of distressed borrowers suggests that not all Americans have benefited from the strong labor market,’ economists at the New York Fed wrote in a blog post. A car loan is typically the first payment people make because a vehicle is critical to getting to work, and someone can live in a car if all else fails. When car loan delinquencies rise, it is a sign of significant duress among low-income and working-class Americans.”

5. Corporate Media Consolidation is so extreme in the U.S. now that just six corporations – Comcast, FOX, Disney, Viacom, CBS, and AT&T – together own more than half of traditional U.S. media content print, film and electronic. The Internet giants Google, Facebook, and Amazon rule online communication and shopping. (It is isn’t just about “news and information” [Carlin], by the way. The corporate-owned mass media probably spreads capitalist, racist, sexist, authoritarian, and military-imperialist propaganda more effectively through its entertainment wing than it does through its new and public/political affairs wing. A movie like “American Sniper” beats CNN reporting bias when it comes to advancing the U.S. imperial project [see #s 28 and 29 below]. A film like Clint Eastwood’s “Gran Torino” beats the evening news when it comes to advancing racist mass incarceration and racial segregation [see #s 6 and 9 below]).

6. Racial Disparity and Apartheid. The U.S. Black-white wealth gap is stark: 8 Black median household cents on the white median household dollar. Equally glaring is the nation’s level of racial segregation.  In the Chicago, New York, Detroit, and Milwaukee metropolitan areas, for example more than three in every four Black people would have to (be allowed to) move from their nearly all-black Census tracts into whiter ones in order to live in a place whose racial composition matched that of the broader region in which they reside. These two statistical measures are intimately interrelated since housing markets distribute so much more than just housing.  They also distribute access to jobs, good schools, green spaces, full-service groceries, safety, medical services and more that matters for “equal opportunity” and advancement.

7. Gender Inequality. Among full-time U.S. workers, women make 81 cents for every dollar a man is paid. The gap is worse in part-time employment since women more commonly work reduced schedules to handle domestic labor. Women ‘s median retirement savings are roughly one third of those of men. Households headed by single women with children have a poverty rate of 35.6 percent, more than double the 17.3 percent rate for households headed by single men with children. Women comprise just 27 percent of the nation’s top 10 income percent, 17 percent of the upper 1 percent, and 11 percent of the top 0.1 percent. By contrast, women make up nearly two-thirds (63 percent) of U.S. workers paid the federal minimum wage.

8. Native American Poverty. Thanks to the savage white-“settler” ethnic-cleansing of most of North America from the 16th century through 1900, Indigenous people make up just 1 percent of the U.S. population. The Native American poverty rate (28%) is double that of the nation as a whole and is particularly high in most of the commonly isolated and high-unemployment reservations where just more than a fifth of the nation’s Indigenous population lives. Native American life expectancy is 6 years short of the national average. In some states, Native American life expectancy is 20 years less than the national average. In Montana, Native American men live on average just 56 years.

9. Racist Mass Arrest, Incarceration, and Criminal Marking. The U.S. has the highest incarceration rate in the world, fueled by the racially disparate waging of the so-called War on Drugs. The racial disparities are so extreme that 1 in very 10 U.S. Black men is in prison or jail on any given day. One in 3 Black adult males are saddled with the permanent crippling mark of a felony record – what law professor Michelle Alexander has famously called “the New Jim Crow.” Blacks make up 12% of the U.S. population but 38% of the nation’s state prison population.

10. Trumpism/Fascism. The U.S. mass media focuses so heavily on the seemingly interminable awfulness of the creeping fascist Donald Trump (whose hideous nature is a ratings bonanza at CNN and MSNBC) that it is easy to lose sight of the fascistic horror of his authoritarian and white-nationalist supporters – roughly a third of the nation. The best social and political science research on Trump’s base reveals a fascist-like movementseeking a “strong” authoritarian “leader” who will rollback civil liberties and the gains won by women and racial and ethnic minorities since the 1960s. Trumpism wants to Make America more fully white-supremacist, patriarchal, and authoritarian (“great”) Again. Herr Donald’s disproportionately armed throng of die-hard devotees backs their Dear Leader no matter how terribly he behaves. It is a grave, creeping fascist threat to democracy.

11. The War on Truth. The aspiring fascist leader Trump made on average 15 false statements per day in 2018. He had stated more than 7,600 untruths as president by the end of last year. Trump lies constantly about matters big and small. He is a practitioner of what Chris Hedges calls “the permanent lie.” It is no small matter. In his description of this as “the most ominous threat” posed by Trump, Hedges quotes the philosopher Hannah Arendt. “The result of a consistent and total substitution of lies for factual truth,” Arendt wrote in her classic volume The Origins of Totalitarianism, “is not that the lie will now be accepted as truth and truth be defamed as a lie, but that the sense by which we take our bearings in the real world—and the category of truth versus falsehood is among the mental means to this end—is being destroyed.” Trump is only the most extreme and egregious wave of fabrication in a vast sea of national deception. U.S.-Americans, once accurately described by Alex Carey as “the most propagandized people in the world,” are surrounded by duplicitous and misleading information and imagery. This constant barrage of falsehood – examples include the thoroughly untrue notion that the U.S. possessed  a “great democracy” for the Trump campaign and Russia to (supposedly) “undermine” in 2016 – threatens to exhaust our capacity to distinguish fact from fiction.

12. Gun Violence. Fully 40,000 people died from shootings in the American “armed madhouse” in 2017 (we are still waiting for the grisly statistic for 2018). The U.S. was home to 322 mass shootings that killed 387 people and injured 1,227 in 2018. Twenty-eight mass shootings, killing 36 and wounding 92, took place in January of this year. A mass shooting killed five workers in Aurora, Illinois, on the very day (last Friday) that Trump declared his fake national emergency.

13. Sexual Violence. One in 5 women and 1 in 71 men will be raped at some point in their lives in the U.S.

14. Illiteracy and Innumeracy. More than 30 million adults in the United States cannot read, write, or do basic math above a third-grade level.

15. Manufactured Mass Ignorance and Amnesia. Thanks to corporate control of the nation’s media and schools, U.S.-Americans are shockingly ignorant of basic facts relating to their own history and society. White U.S.-Americans are mired in extraordinary denial about the level of Black-white inequality and the depth and degree of discrimination faced by Black Americans today. U.S.-Americans in general know next to nothing about the criminal and mass-murderous havoc U.S. foreign policy wreaks around the world.  This renders them incapable of understanding world politics and woefully vulnerable to nationalistic propaganda and militarism. Eleven years historian Rick Shenkman wrote a book titled “Just How Stupid Are We? Facing the Truth About the American Voter.” Shenkman found that a majority of Americans: didn’t know which party was in control of Congress; couldn’t name the chief justice of the Supreme Court; didn’t know the U.S. had three branches of government; believed George W. Bush’s argument the United States should invade Iraq because Saddam Hussein had attacked America on 9/11. Ask an average U.S.-American when the American War of Independence or the Civil War or WWII were fought and why, what the Bill of Rights was, what fascism is past and present, or what the Civil Rights Movement was about, and you will get blank stares and preposterously wrong answers. A people that doesn’t know its history wanders without a clue through the present and stumbles aimlessly into the future. Real historical knowledge is a great democratic people’s weapon and it is in perilously short supply in the U.S. today.

16. The Israel and Saudi Lobbies. Israel’s power in U.S. politics and political culture is so absurdly exaggerated that a freshman Muslim U.S. Congressional Representative (Ilhan Omar) was recently subjected to a massive and bipartisan political assault absurdly charging her with “anti-Semitism” for daring to Tweet seven words suggesting the elementarily true fact that the American Israel Public Affairs Committee (AIPAC) – a deep-powerful, deep-pockets public relations and lobbying organization committed to the advance of Israeli state interests – exercises money-lubricated influence on U.S. politics and policy. To visibly raise the question of Palestinian rights and Israel’s horrendous treatment of Arab peoples is to invite an onslaught from the Israel Lobby’s vicious and powerful attack-dogs. They’ve even been known to strip professors of tenure. Meanwhile, the despotic Saudi regime, possibly the most reactionary government on Earth, continues through money and other means to exercise huge influence on U.S. politics even as it senselessly crucifies the people of Yemen (with direct U.S. military assistance), cultivates terrorism across the Muslim world, and vivisects dissident journalists in its foreign embassies.

17. Neo-McCarthyism. The original Orwellian-American and Russia-mad McCarthyism of the late 1940s and 1950s has been resurrected in the post-Soviet era with a curious partisan twist. Anti-Russian hysteria has been picked up by the Democratic Party, which has been eager to blame its pathetic failure to defeat Trump on Russia’s supposedly powerful “interference in our [unmentionably non-existent] democracy” in 2016 – and to deny its politicos’ role in provoking any such relevant Russian interference as may have occurred. On the Republican side, Trump (who was mentored by Senator Joe McCarthy’s onetime chief counsel Roy Cohn!) and other GOP leaders now routinely follow in the footsteps of Joe McCarthy by calling even cringingly centrist corporate-neoliberal Democrats and everything they propose “socialist.” One of the most horrific moments in Herr Donald’s sickening State of the Union Address came when the Orange Mother of all Malignant Assholes (OMoAMA) told the assembled federal officials to “renew” the nation’s “pledge” that “America will never be a socialist country.”  Numerous Democrats, including House Speaker Nancy “We’re Capitalist and That’s Just the Way it is” Pelosi (net worth $71 million) and “progressive” U.S. Senator and presidential candidate Elizabeth Warren ($11 million) joined the GOPers in attendance in applauding that “pledge.”  McCarthyism was always and remains a richly bipartisan disease.

18. Health Care and Health. The United States’ corporate-owned/-managed for-profit health care system is the most expensive in the world but ranks just 12th in life expectancy among the 12 wealthiest industrialized countries. The U.S. spends almost three times more on healthcare as do other countries with comparable incomes. Reflecting poor, commercialized and corporate-imposed food systems and lethally sedentary life styles, 58 percent of the U.S. population is overweight, a major health risk factor.

19. Bad Schools. The nation’s expensive but very unequally funded schools deliver terrible outcomes. Among the world’s 34 ranking OECD nations, U.S. schools are the fifth most expensive, but the U.S. ranks scores far below average in math.  It ranks 17th among in reading and 21st in science.

20. Child Abuse. Childhelp reports that “Every year more than 3.6 million referrals are made to child protection agencies involving more than 6.6 million children. The United States has one of the worst records among industrialized nations – losing on average between four and seven children every day to child abuse and neglect…A report of child abuse is made very ten seconds.”

21. Depression and Substance Abuse. The United States, once described by onetime U.S. Senator Kay Bailey Hutchinson as “the beacon to the world of the way life should be” (in a speech supporting the Congressional authorization of George W. Bush to invade Iraq) has the third highest rates of depression and anxiety and the second highest rate of drug use in the world. “One in five adults in the U.S. experiences some form of mental illness each year,” according to the National Alliance on Mental Illness. That estimate is certainly absurdly low.

22. Immigrant Workers Without Rights. Undocumented immigrants make up 55% of hired labor on farms, 15% of laborers in construction, and 9% in both industry and the service sector. “These workers,” CBS reported earlier this year, “play vital roles in the U.S. economy, erecting American buildings, picking American apples and grapes, and taking care of American babies. Oh, and paying American taxes.”  Their technically illegal status makes them easily exploited by employers and undermines their ability to organize and fight for decent conditions both for themselves for other workers.

23. The Dreamer Nightmare. Eight hundred thousand people living in the U.S. were brought to the country as children by parents without U.S. citizenship.  These “Dreamers’” legal status is stuck in limbo.  They are not allowed to vote. They live in the shadow of possible future deportation, with their legal status treated as a partisan political football.

24. Vote Suppression. State-level racist voter suppression and de facto disenfranchisement is rife across the United States. Among other things, this has contributed significantly to the Republicans winning the presidency in 2000, 2004, and 2016. A “gentleman’s agreement” between the two reigning political parties pushes this critical problem to the margins of public discussion. (The Democrats have widely ignored the matter while they have obsessed for two years plus about Russia’s real or alleged role in the last election.  Moscow’s influence was likely small compared to American-as-Apple Pie racist voter suppression in electing Trump.) “The United States,” political scientist David Schutlz noted on Counterpunch last year, “is the only country in the world that still does not have in its Constitution an explicit clause  affirmatively granting a right to vote for all or some of its citizens.”

25. The Absurdly Archaic U.S. Constitution. Popular sovereignty, also known as democracy was the late 18thcentury U.S. Founders’ ultimate nightmare.  They crafted an aristo-republican national charter brilliantly crafted to keep it at bay – in the darkly ironic name of “We the People.”  Two and a third centuries later, their handiwork continues to do its explicitly un- and anti-democratic work through such openly authoritarian mechanisms as the Electoral College, the apportionment of two Senators to every U.S. state regardless of population, the distant time-staggering of elections, the lifetime presidential appointment and Senate approval of Supreme Court justices.  The preposterously venerated U.S. Constitution is an ongoing 232-year old authoritarian calamity in dire need of a radical and democratic overhaul. It is long past time for the populace to declare a national emergency and call for a Constituent Assembly to draft a new national governing structure dedicated to meaning popular self-rule.

26. Trump and the Imperial Presidency. The OMoAMA (Trump) is by all indications a demented and malignant narcissist, a pure sociopath, and a creeping fascist. But the fact that someone as twisted, venal, sexist, and racist as Trump can pose dire threats to humanity in the first place is in no small part a function of the extreme powers that have accrued to the United States constitutionally super-empowered executive branch over the many decades in which the U.S. has reigned as the world’s most powerful state.  The absurdly vast and authoritarian powers of the imperial presidency are an on ongoing national and global emergency.

27. Election Madness/Electoralism. In the early spring of 2008, the late radical American historian Howard Zinn wrote powerfully against the “Election Madness” he saw “engulfing the entire society including the left” in the year of Obama’s ascendancy. “An election frenzy seizes the country every four years,” Zinn worried, “because we have all been brought up to believe that voting is crucial in determining our destiny, that the most important act a citizen can engage in is to go to the polls. …” Zinn said he would support one major-party candidate over another but only “for two minutes—the amount of time it takes to pull the lever down in the voting booth.” Then he offered sage counsel, reminding us that time-staggered candidate-centered major party electoralism is a very weak surrogate for real popular sovereignty, which requires regular grassroots organization and militancy beneath and beyond what his good friend Noam Chomsky has called“the quadrennial electoral extravaganza”: “Before and after those two minutes, our time, our energy, should be spent in educating, agitating, organizing our fellow citizens in the workplace, in the neighborhood, in the schools. Our objective should be to build, painstakingly, patiently but energetically, a movement that, when it reaches a certain critical mass, would shake whoever is in the White House, in Congress, into changing national policy on matters of war and social justice. … We should not expect that a victory at the ballot box in November will even begin to budge the nation from its twin fundamental illnesses: capitalist greed and militarism. … Before [elections] … and after … we should be taking direct action against the obstacles to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. … Historically, government, whether in the hands of Republicans or Democrats, conservatives or liberals, has failed its responsibilities, until forced to by direct action: sit-ins and Freedom Rides for the rights of black people, strikes and boycotts for the rights of workers, mutinies and desertions of soldiers in order to stop a war. Voting is easy and marginally useful, but it is a poor substitute for democracy, which requires direct action by concerned citizens.” The reigning “mainstream” US media and politics culture is fiercely dedicated to advancing the hegemony of the major party candidate-centered election cycle, advancing the deadly totalitarian notion that those two minutes in a ballot box  once every four years – generally choosing among politics vetted in advance for us by the nation’s unelected and interrelated dictatorships of money and empire – is the sum total of “politics” – the only politics that really matters.  Since the hidden corporate control of the US electoral politics on behalf of the center-right ruling class rules out victory for candidates who accurately reflect majority left-progressive public opinion, these ritual exercises in fake democracy deeply reinforce the fatalistic and false belief that most Americans are centrist and right-wing. The 2020 Democratic Party presidential candidate Iowa-New Hampshire circus is already sucking up vast swaths of cable news coverage and commentary while numerous pressing matters (like most of what is listed in the present essay) is largely ignored. It’s pathetic.

28. Guns Over Butter. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. rightly preached that the U.S. could not end poverty or escape “spiritual death” as long as it diverted vast swaths of its tax revenue to a giant war machine that “draw [s] men and skills and money like some demonic destructive suction tube.” Just over half a century after King said this, the United States gives 54 percent of its federal discretionary to the Pentagon System, a giant subsidy to high-tech “defense” (war and empire) corporations like Raytheon and Boeing. Six million U.S, children live in “deep poverty,” at less than half (!) the federal government’s obscenely inadequate poverty level, while the U.S, government maintains 800 military bases in more than 70 countries and territoriesaround the world (Britain, France, and Russia together have a combined 30 foreign bases) and accounts for nearly 40 percent of all global military spending. It is deeply offensive that the progressive-populist (fake-“democratic socialist”) U.S. Senator and presidential candidate Bernie Sanders has repeatedly cited Scandinavian nations as his social-democratic policy role models without having the elementary Dr. Kingian decency to note that those countries dedicate relatively tiny portions of their national budgets to the military. It is disturbing but predictable that most Congressional Democrats voted for Trump’s record-setting $700 billion Pentagon budget last year. U.S. Americans must choose: we can have democracy, social justice, guaranteed free health care, well-funded public schools, and livable ecology or we can have a giant global war machine.  We can’t have both.

29. Doctrinal Denial of U.S. Imperialism. Across the U.S. “mainstream” political and media spectrum, it is beyond the pale of acceptable discussion to acknowledge that the United States is a deeply criminal and imperialist power. The examples are endless. It is normative for U.S. cable talking heads, pundits, and politicians to discuss Eastern Europe or East Asia as if the Washington has as much right to influence developments there as Moscow and Beijing, respectively. Terrible developments in the Middle East and North Africa are routinely discussed by “mainstream “U.S. politicos, talking heads, and pundits as if the United States had not wreaked nearly indescribable havoc on Iraq and Libya and the broader Muslim world. Migrants seeking asylum from Central America are regularly reported and discussed with zero reference to the fact that the United States has inflicted massive and bloody devastation on that region for decades – and without mentioning the Obama administration’s support of a vicious right-wing coup in Honduras in the spring of 2009.  Reporting on the current political crisis in Venezuela comes with complete Orwellian deletion of the United States’ role in crippling the nation’s democratically elected socialist government on the model of the Nixon administration’s campaign to undermine Chile’s democratically elected socialist government in the late 1960s and early 1970s.  No serious discussion is permitted of the historical context of Washington’s longstanding intervention and regime-change operations across Latin America. The reigning Empire-denial is absurd.

30. Amazon. Google (lol) up its mind-boggling and many-sided monopolistic reach and then thank the New York City Left for stopping this public-subsidy-sucking, zero tax-paying corporate monstrosity from setting up its headquarters in the nation’s largest city.

31. Last but not at all least, Ecocide. The climate catastrophe poses grave existential threats to livable ecology and all prospects for a decent human future. It is a national and global emergency of epic proportions. It is the single biggest issue of our or any time. If this environmental calamity is not averted soon, nothing else that progressives and decent citizens everywhere care about is going to matter all that much. The United Nations Panel on Climate Change has recently warned that we have a dozen years to keep global warming to a maximum of 1.5C, beyond which true cataclysm will fall upon hundreds of millions of people. Under the command of capital, we are currently on a pace to melt Antarctica by 2100. The unfolding climate disaster’s leading political and economic headquarters is the United State, home to a super-powerful fossil fuel industry with a vast, deeply funded lobbying and public relations apparatus dedicated to turning the planet into a giant Greenhouse Gas Chamber.

Towards a Green New Deal

If a vicious and moronic creeping fascist like Donald Trump can declare a fake national emergency over a non-existent crisis in order to build a political vanity wall rejected by Congress and 60 percent of the population, perhaps a future decent and democratic government sincerely committed to the common good could declare a national emergency to address the all-too real climate crisis by moving the nation off fossil fuels and on to renewable energy sources while advancing environmentally sustainable practices and standards across economy and society.  A properly crafted Green New Deal would also and necessarily address other and related national emergencies including the crises of financial oligarchy, bad jobs, inequality, poverty, plutocracy, racial inequality, mass incarceration, untruth, inadequate health care, fascism, poor schooling, mental illness, substance abuse, gun violence, militarism-imperialism, gender disparity, spiritual death, and much more.  I plan in a future essay to elaborate on what it is meant by a “properly crafted Green New Deal.”

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PAUL STREET

Paul Street’s latest book is They Rule: The 1% v. Democracy (Paradigm, 2014)

[catsprobably]

New Fan

Request: can you write for James where his wife is giving birth to their second child, a baby boy this time, and Salomé's reaction meeting the baby?

AN: Wow this was very cute and I loved writing it. I’m very sorry for not posting anything for such a long time :/ I have an Emotional™️ fic planned for the future based off some of the requests you guys sent in, so watch out for that soon. Thanks for your support!

Warnings: EXTREME FLUFF, mentions of a miscarriage

Word Count: 1729

Your husband began to cook dinner, stirring the pot on the stove in the kitchen. You and James had been married just over a year before the two of you decided to try for a baby and after only a few months you found out you were expecting. But then there was the miscarriage. It broke your heart. And it took you and James a long time to heal from that. You had taken a break from trying. You weren’t ready to go through anything like that again. But it seems as though life had different plans.

Now you were almost 4 months pregnant. The doctor said you and the baby were in excellent health. You were terrified but the excitement you felt was beginning to overpower that. Both of you were excited, although James was overly excited after finding out it was a boy. The two of you still hadn’t picked out a name for the baby, however, but you weren’t stressed about it. You had plenty of time.

You were worried about telling Salomé. The two of you had bonded quickly when you started dating James and now she was like your own daughter. You loved her so much and you felt guilty for not telling her yet, but to be fair only James actually knew you were expecting. But now you decided it was time to tell her. You couldn’t hide your bump with oversized t-shirts anymore.

James and you had gotten her a shirt that said “Best Big Sister” and wrapped it for her to open. It was blue, her favorite color, with white, cursive lettering and cute little daisies.

“(Y/N)!” Salomé ran through the front door and straight over to you.

“Hi, sweetheart. Did you have fun at school today?”

She nodded excitedly and looked up at you with big brown eyes. James came through the kitchen opening with Salo’s present.

“Hello, Princesa,” he said and she ran over to him, jumping into his open arms. He picked her up and spun her around before depositing her on a chair in the dining room. “Salo, (Y/N) and I wanted to give you something,” he handed her the box with the shiny green and white striped paper.

She tore into the paper and pulled the top off the box. She pulled out the shirt and furrowed her brows, reading the writing on the shirt.

“What does it say, Salo?”

“Best Big Sister? But I’m not a big sister,” she said in confusion. She looked at the two of you for clarification, and then noticed your hand on your swollen belly. Her eyes widened, “you’re going to have a baby?”

You nodded and she jumped up, wrapping her arms around you in a hug. “ So you’re excited to be a big sister?” You asked, pulling back to look at her face and smooth the curls away from her eyes. You felt James move to stand behind you and you gently lean back against him

“Yes!!! Is it a boy or a girl?”

“A boy.”

“Yay! Ohmygosh! I’m so excited!”

You felt James laugh behind you, and Salo pulled back and untangled herself from your arms. “He’ll be here in a few months. Do you want to see his room?” You had put his room across the hall from her room, hoping she wouldn’t protest. Salo nodded and you led her to the nursery.

The rest of the evening was spent answering her many questions (“where do babies come from?” utterly terrified James and you thought he was going to have an aneurism when she asked that). Eventually she calmed down and the two of you managed to convince her to go to sleep for the night.

And the next couple months passed in a blur, everything moving much quicker than you had anticipated. Everyday you felt more and more like a whale and you ankles and feet began to swell from the baby. Your back and breasts and feet and basically everything ached all. The. Time. After 8 and a half months, you were more than ready for this pregnancy to be done. You and James spent every minute of your free time preparing for the baby, painting the nursery, building the crib (Ikea was currently on your bad list) and reading every baby book you got your hands on.

Salo also helped prepare for the baby. She insisted on painting your toenails to cheer you up, because you definitely couldn’t reach your feet. She helped paint the nursery and she helped you back your overnight bag for in the hospital.

You particularly appreciated James and his extra attention. He was always mindful of what might be ailing you, he rubbed your feet when he knew you had been standing a lot during the day, and he massaged your shoulders when he saw you grimace and reach for them. He also cooked most of the meals, and catered to all the weird cravings you had. The two of you had been going to lamaze classes and you felt well prepared for this baby.

Until your water broke.

It was late, about 10 at night, when you felt the liquid running down your legs. You gasped at the feeling and James rushed into the kitchen where you had gone to get a snack for the two of you.

“Well, I guess we’re not watching a movie tonight.” He laughed at the annoyed expression on your face as you said that and pulled you into a hug.

“Hey, we don’t have to leave yet. Have you had any contractions? We don’t have to leave until they’re 7 minutes apart.”

You were about to tell him you hadn’t felt anything yet when your first contraction ripped through you, making you double over and clench your eyes shut for a moment before the pain faded and you straightened.

“Alright I guess I’ll start the stop watching to see how far apart they are.”

You nodded and began to waddle away to change out of your wet clothes.

You came back downstairs a few minutes later, in a loose maternity dress, just as another contraction began. After the pain faded you turned to James, “how long was that?”

“8 and a half minutes. We could leave now if you want. We do have to drop Salo off with Thiago.”

You nodded, “I’ll go get my bag and call him. Do you want to get Salo? I’ll meet you at the car.”

In 10 minutes you hobbled back down the steps with your bag in tow, having called Thiago to tell him you were coming. James’ Bayern teammate was more than excited to finally meet the newest FC Bayern fan.

You met James at the car and he took your bag and tossed it in the back, along with Salo’s. He started the car and drove the 15 minutes to Thiago’s house, who met you at the door and cradled a sleepy Salomé in one arm and her bag in the other and wished you luck before heading back inside.

James pulled back out onto the highway and another contraction, your sixth (you thought, although you had kind of lost count) started to tear through you. James saw your pained expression and grasped your hand tight in his, keeping you grounded and letting you know you weren’t alone in this.

When you got to the hospital they rushed you to delivery where you met your OB/GYN. After several long hours of labor, (you were cursing James half the time for putting you in this situation) you finally got hold your baby boy.

The nurse placed him into your arms and James came to stand next to you, placing an arm around your shoulders.

“He so… perfect,” you whispered as the baby cooed.

James was silent for a moment, taking in his son. “We still have to pick a name for him.”

“How about (B/N)?”

“I love it,” James said, kissing your forehead and resting his head next to yours.

It was early morning, about 8, so James figured Thiago and Salo would be awake by now, and he left you alone with (B/N), who was looking up at you with James’ big brown eyes. You held his tiny pink hand and made baby noises to your bundle of joy. After almost half an hour, James returned to your room and peaked his head in.

“Are you up for some visitors?”

You were tired but you didn’t think you could sleep anyway so you nodded and he opened the door and Thiago stepped in with Salo.

You gave them a tired smile. “Salo, do you want to meet your new brother (B/N)?”

She tentatively stepped towards you and you leaned towards her so she could see the baby.

“Do you want to hold him with Daddy’s help?” She nodded, not taking her eyes off her little brother. You handed your son to James, who sat on the chair near the bed. Salomé climbed up into his lap and he wrapped his arms around her and help the baby in front of her. You watched the two of them for a little, a small smile coming across your face.

“You’re exhausted, huh?” Thiago stood next to your bed, his arms crossed as he watched the others.

“Oh my god you have no idea,” you said with a small laugh.

“I can imagine,” he said with the hint of a smile, “hey, guys, why don’t we take this party outside so Mommy can get some rest?”

James and Salo looked up from the baby and James’ eyes fell on you, a look of guilt and sympathy crossing his face. “That’s a great idea, uncle Thiago. Can you take the baby for a second?” He handed (B/N) over to Thiago and Thiago and Salo made their way to the door. James leaned down next to you and kissed you on the forehead. “We’ll be back in a bit. Get some rest. I love you.”

You smiled and pulled him down for a quick kiss on the lips, the taste of coffee lingered on your tongue from his lips. “Thank you. I love you too.” James turned and joined Thiago and Salomé and you collapsed back onto the pillows, closing your eyes and falling into an exhausted but peaceful sleep.

#james rodriguez fic #james rodriguez x reader #james rodriguez imagine #x reader #football imagine

[hypnotic-harmonies]

Day 22 - 2.8.19

7,770 long days of living later, and somehow I have managed to survive another day. 

Today was actually a good day in the grand scheme of things. I woke up before my alarm this morning, which kinda sucked, but made getting up and going easier in general. Classes as usual were a bit of a waste of time, but were slightly better than normal. In Engineering Fundamentals & Ethics, we built bridges out of K’NEX which I had never worked with before. Apparently they were a pretty popular toy there for awhile. Anyways, that was a fun little task. Then, in speech we just talked about our speech maps and went over how Monday was going to go since we are going to begin giving our first speech. Half the class is going Monday and the other half will go on Wednesday. 

After class, I started making my way back into town.This is where my day got a little rocky for a bit. Traffic wasn’t bad on the way home since it was 1030 am and I was headed out of a big city instead of in, but about halfway home, myself and another car who had hung pretty close behind me came up on these 2 cars doing approximately 60 in the left lane and coming up on a tractor trailer rather quickly. Well all 4 of us clear the tractor trailer and these 2 are still sitting in the left lane. The car behind me and I simultaneously speed up, it seems, and slide into the right lane so that we can get around them and go about our days. Well as I settle into the right lane and begin to speed up to approximately 85, the second of the 2 slow-pokes in the left lane decided to finally slam on the gas, along with jerking into my lane, forcing me onto the shoulder, and riding the middle line for at least 8 to 10 seconds. I actually thought I was going to crash and die. 

*** While I am not against dying at this point, I would prefer not to take my brand new car with me. Mom could use a new (and paid off) car as a going away present. ***

Anyways, once they finally chilled tf out and settled back into their lane, I jumped in front of them and carried on my way back into town. I then went to my physical therapy appointment, put 2 gallons of gas in my car, and came home. Since, for the first time in ages, I had this afternoon off work, I decided to lay in bed and take a brief nap instead of eat lunch. I slept on and off for an hour or so, then went with mom to get our nails done. It has been a LONG time since we have been, so it was due, but since they were understaffed, we essentially spent the rest of today in there. We then picked up Snow White for dinner, brought it home, and ate. It wasn’t the best and dad had already started bitching about anything and everything irrelevant to real life, so I ate half of it, grabbed my laptop, and came on back to my room.

Once back here, I had intended to start working on this entry and maybe work on my ATTN: Ex-boyfriends post a little bit but that didn’t happen - go figure. Instead, I Facetimed Jack for about an hour and 20 minutes. It was nice to actually talk to him again since up until about a week ago, we had been fighting a lot more than usual but it made me happy to see that he decided to actually act like a grown up, listen to what I was saying, and see that some of his actions are what was causing his own pain and suffering. I love being able to watch my friends grow and thrive. It gives me more reason to keep working on myself. 

Anyways, I hung up with him just before 2200 and finally started on this post. It is only about a quarter after now, but given that I have to work a double tomorrow and possible Sunday, I feel like I should just go ahead and call it a night.

#depression #growth #personal growth #friends #fight #love #self love #happiness #driving #journal #diary #blog