#lol half pint art

[dojunie]

i miss misdial jeno and y/n i feel like its been decades. but i hope ure doing well <3<3 btw i love ur writing style and i wish i could be as good as you or even just a half heh…

misdial is currently at 37k and i open that blasted fic almost every day <3 i promise you she is baking, thank you so so much for sticking around through this genuinely debaucherous hiatus i am putting you all through LOL

for your patience i will insert a blurb under the readmore of a scene in the upcoming ch, and its still in jen pov btw!!!

Back in highschool, when you were a junior and he was a senior, you’d had a short lived obsession with dying your hair. Mark had mentioned it to him in passing, recalling the half a dozen conversations he’d witnessed of you trying to convince your parents to let you bleach it, but he hadn’t really thought about it too seriously until he was over at Mark’s house to work on a project a few weeks later. Your brother, who’s brain stopped working properly when he was hungry, tapped out after about fifteen minutes to hit the convenience store a few blocks away for a pint of ice cream and a few energy drinks. 

It was only after the front door slammed shut that Jeno even realized you were home; he was slouched in Mark’s desk chair scrolling listlessly through his phone when he heard the bedroom door creak open, and turned around expecting your brother. It was not your brother.

It was you. Standing in the doorway like a deer caught in headlights as your eyes met, dressed in a pair of pajama shorts and a tank top, hair slicked down to your head with cherry red dye— it was all over your hands, splattered down your neck, an artful blob on the tip of your nose.

The two of you stared at each other for what felt like minutes. He hadn’t seen you this close for a few weeks now, since this was around the time that you’d started hanging out with your friends more and were rarely ever home. That was what he blamed for the way his brain seemed to start buffering at the sight of you.

“Are you okay?” he finally asked.

You stood up straight and hid your hands behind your back like he hadn’t already seen them in all their bloody glory, and said, “I thought you… Left. Just now. With Mark.”

“I didn’t,” he replied. You stared at each other some more. Then, because he wasn’t quite sure what else to do and he’s never really been good at reading a room, he said,“You missed a bit, there. On the top.”

You stiffened, and then your whole body slumped like he’d cut your strings with those ten words alone. “I know. Mark has a little mirror in here somewhere that I was going to steal while he was gone, because I didn’t realize until it was too late that I couldn't see the back of my own head.”

And somehow this ended up with Jeno standing behind you in your bathroom, dutifully brushing red goo into your scalp as you fidgeted and twitched and tried to pretend you weren’t staring at him in the mirror, even though it was very obvious that you were. Jeno pretended, like he’d been doing for the last three years, that he didn’t notice— even if he was finding it a little harder than normal to not stare right back.

Back then, he chalked up his jitters to all of the physical things that were happening in that moment. He credited his desire to stand a little closer to you than necessary to the pleasant scent of cherry coming from the dye in your hair, and blamed the uneven straps on your tank top for the reason his eyes kept drifting to the curve of your shoulders. He was hyper-focusing on the tiny beauty mark below your ear not because he found it fascinating, but because it was easier to keep his eyes trained on that than to risk forgetting what he was doing and finding your eyes in the mirror.

When the dye ran out and your head was sufficiently gooped, he’d been gearing up to ask if you needed help washing it out or something, not quite ready to go back to being strangers just yet, when the sound of the garage door opening whispered through the house and you stiffened. In an instant you were plucking the empty dye bowl from his hands and then herding him out of your bathroom— startled, he turned around to mention his sweater only to find it flying at his chest with enough force to knock him back against the hallway wall. Your eyes were huge as you stood in the bathroom doorway, hand already on the door as if already positioning to slam it shut.

“Don’t tell Mark you helped me,” you said quickly, before blinking very hard a few times, “And— Thank you? This probably would have turned out like shit if you didn’t offer to help me. Thanks.”

Downstairs, the front door opened. Jeno stood there with his balled up sweatshirt in his hands suddenly feeling very odd. Only later did he realize that feeling was hesitance. He didn’t want to go yet. “Why can’t I tell him?” he asked.

“Because Mark’s going to freak out when he sees me, and I don’t want him to get mad at you too for being an accessory to my crime.”

“An accessory to your what?”

“Oh,” you said belatedly. Then you raised your eyebrows at him, lip quirking into an innocent smile that felt like anything but, and his stomach twisted. “Might’ve said too much.”

Your brother's voice rang up the stairs and Jeno made the mistake of turning towards the landing. By the time he turned back to you, mouth opening to speak— even though he wasn’t even sure what he was planning to say— he only caught the last glimpse of your red stained hand through the shutting the door.

Mark returned a few moments later to find Jeno sitting back in the desk chair, back to peering into his phone, but what he probably didn’t notice was that Jeno was really staring at the little, cherry colored splotch on his palm.

I'M IN LOVE WITH HIM!!!!! but for real, thank you for keeping up with these two dumbos........... i will open up my misdial doc in your honor tonight!!!!

#dojun talks #dojun answers #beloved anon #fic: misdial

[chibirisa20]

Post info dumping about my Solastas OCs cause I'm in a big DnD mood.

Alvin: Slyvain Elf, Fighter. Mainly use fire magic and fire resistance. Lost family to orcs. His family has done business with the Moltenforge smithing family. Alvin on rare occasions will ask Ealdhelm for favors, feeling indebted to him during a difficult time in his life. Former assistant to him until turned 19 to become a freelance mercenary. He and Malia have been friends since they were kids.

Malia Irisheart: Tiefling Bard (College of Hope), Alvin's childhood friend, music is a special interest of hers often worked minor jobs in order to pay for a lute with her hard-earned gold. Took to the College of Hope to bring strength to the grieving after witnessing the horrid aftermath of Alvin's loss.

Bipity Bopity: Marsh Halfling, Wizard Spy. Foul-mouthed, yet studious halfling, that was abandoned at a young age never knowing what her birth name was or if she was given one. She was taken in by a scholar of magic that taught to read and write the the spells she had come to learn over the years. Her current name is an alias that comes from an old rhyme she once heard from her teacher use to sing to her. She rarely gives out her real legally given name to others for secrecy purposes(which some might find baffling given she talks a teenager with zero filter lol).

Bjork Veilmarsh: Black Dragonborn, Barbarian Spy. Bipity's long-time colleague, equally as foul-mouthed to match his half-pint partner. Took to spy work for a decent living while still remaining out of the public eye. Mainly prefers fighting for the thrill of battle as apposed to the potential fame.

Ealdhelm Moltenforge: Hill Dwarf, Mana-Painter Sorcerer. Member of a well-established smithing family that uses their magical specialties as mana painters to offer enchanted weapons to the common folk rising from desperate times during the cataclysm. Offered Alvin a place to stay and a job after the death of Alvin’s parents before the elf took to mercenary work. Bit of an egoistic business man with a hidden soft side.

Kiana Nimblebranch: High-elf, Hive Cultist Warlock. Noble elf child who was kidnapped at a young age, groomed and brainwashed into the art of manipulation and trickery to cause as much paranoia and distrust in her wake. Is often accompanied by a swarm of bees(think of an ominous version of Annoying Bees purely for the aesthetics lol)

#solasta crown of the magister #dungeons and dragons #dnd 5e #my ocs #dnd oc #there are more but these are the ones I fleshed out a bit

[exitwound]

Hey, I can definitely relate to post-submission regret & the subsequent anxiety spiral. but also want to remind you that none of it’s true & you should absolutely keep putting your art out there!! even on a whim & even for things you feel somehow under-qualified/inadequate for. Imposter syndrome is a biiiitch.

And honestly I’m completely hooked by the surreal imagery of “peeled cucumber in a glass of half and half.” I’d love to read a poem abt that.

thank u<3 it got rejected lol but here it is

FECUND METH ADDICT

there is an unopened pint

of cream white

half and half in

the fridge the peeled

cucumbers are soaking

inside of it bobbing

gently in the dark nobody

sees as the soaked meat

comes apart its seeds

collecting at the surface

like floating teeth

it’s about my grandma and the differently shaped spaces and densities and viscosities of the liquids filling those spaces between her and my mom and me and my great grandma . except none of that is at all evident whatsoever but yea

[D0 N0T RB]

#i wrote this in like one minute it’s supposed to be part of a bigger poem but i couldnt get it to fit in it so #anon #inbox #replies #zw

[lovemybluebully]

Relaxation Interrupted

I recently just started drawing and writing again after a long hiatus so nice to be posting again! Hope to hear from some of you guys! :)

X-men Evolution-verse

*/M, F/M, Very slight M/F Tickling Pure family bonding FLUFF!! Summary: Logan is dragged to the beach and Kitty convinces him to allow her to bury him in the sand. Some cute fatherly Logan bonding with his girls. ^_^ Word Count: 5,035 (Way longer than I planned! lol)

Based on this picture I drew on my DeviantArt. ( https://www.deviantart.com/lovemybluebully/art/Relaxation-Interrupted-876785777 )

"Please?"

"Absolutely not."

"Pleeeeeeeaaaaasse?"

"Still no." "C'mon Mr. Logan! It'll be fun!"

"Ya may be surprised to hear that I have a lot o' doubts about that." Wolverine was sitting on a towel on the sand of the local beach and was currently being pestered by his reason for being there in the first place; Kitty Pryde.

Professor Xavier thought it would be beneficial for Logan to start accompanying the students on a one-on-one basis for some bonding activities to improve student and teacher relations. Kitty had chosen the beach as their destination despite Logan's minor detest for sand, but he agreed with her promising just how relaxing it would be for him. He really could stand some relaxation. Especially after his day with Ororo's nephew Evan, who had naturally picked the skate park for them to go to. Not even Logan's natural reflexes and balance could keep him from ending up on his ass several times that day. He had to hold himself back from smashing every skateboard there to pieces. At least there was really nothing he could think of that might go wrong at the beach. The worst for most people was getting a sunburn, but he had no reason to worry about that with his healing factor. Kitty had brought along her young pit bull puppy that Logan had thoughtfully renamed to Runt, and after hiking the trail down the cliff-side they got settled in. The beach she had chosen was more secluded than the other tourist beaches in the area and currently there was no one around them for half a mile. Their time there wasn't bad so far. The weather was in their favor and the sun was out, keeping the air at a comfortable 70F degrees. All Logan had been doing was just sitting there throwing a small piece of driftwood for the puppy to fetch as he kept a watchful eye on Kitty splashing around in the ocean water. Eventually though she had emerged, and after drying off with a towel her next big idea was for him to let her bury him in the sand. Of course Logan was quick to reject the idea. "But, like, you don't even have to do anything! You can just sit there and-!" "Fer the last time Half-pint, ya ain't coverin' me with a buncha sand!" He growled with slight annoyance at her persistence as Runt came running back to deposit the retrieved stick in his hand. Kitty frowned with a pout of her lips as she turned and hugged her knees to her chest, looking genuinely disappointed. Logan instantly felt regret. He cursed his inability to resist feeling bad for the teenage girl, not wanting her to be unhappy because of him. Being one of the younger students at the school inherently made him more protective of her; not to mention how she had helped him come to his senses back when he had that mind-control chip that was implanted in his head. He supposed he could humor her for just a little while. What's the worst that could happen? With a loud sigh he softened his voice before throwing the stick for Runt once more. "Alright fine. If it means that much to ya then go ahead."

"Really?! You mean it?!" Kitty instantly perked up with a big smile and threw her arms around him, "Thanks Mr. Logan! You won't regret it!"

Logan smirked at how easy it was for her to change her mood and gave her a gentle hug back with one arm. "We'll see about that. Hopefully it ain't that hard to get off me after. Now if ya don't mind," he pulled his shirt off over his head, leaving him in just his swim trunks as he laid back on the towel, "I'm just gonna shut my eyes fer a few minutes an' catch some sun while yer doin' that." "Go right ahead! Like I said, you don't have to do anything. Just relax." "Sounds good to me." With the warmth of the sun penetrating all his exposed skin Logan found it easy to doze off rather quickly. Runt returned with the stick, but after finding Logan not responsive to him trying to thrust the stick into his hand the pup decided to just lay down beside him and start gnawing on the piece of wood. Meanwhile, Kitty got to work with the sand and began with his lower body, figuring that she'd be less likely to disturb his nap. It was about fifteen minutes later when Logan began to wake up, taking him a second to remember where he was. He opened his eyes and slowly sat up to find a large mound of sand covering his legs as Kitty continued to add more and more. "How's it goin' kid?"

She smiled when she heard his voice and saw he was awake again. "Pretty good. I actually had to start off with a lot of wet sand to get it going since the dry stuff was just sliding down and wouldn't stay in place. It doesn't feel too heavy on you I hope?"

Logan tried to move his legs a bit to test it, but found he couldn't budge them at all aside from his feet which the teen had left unburied and sticking out of the mound.

"Nah, it's fine. But if yer goal was to keep me from escapin' then I'd say ya succeeded," he wiggled his feet around, not too crazy about being restrained in any way, but he felt no threat from Kitty, and that little nap had relaxed him more than he thought it would. "It's only temporary. I'll dig you out when you're ready." Logan nodded as he discovered Runt asleep on the towel beside him, rubbing the dog's small body and waking him almost immediately. The puppy yipped excitedly as he licked at Logan's hand and then jumped to his paws to run down to the water to chase after the seagulls.

Kitty just smiled, knowing Logan had become very attached to the dog no matter how much he tried to appear otherwise. He was looking after Runt fondly before noticing he'd been caught by the pony-tailed girl as he tried to play it off. "Dumb mutt," he snorted and shook his head, breaking their eye contact to keep up his stoic demeanor. She tilted her head as it was her turn to look at him fondly. Others might find him to be hostile or unsociable or even just plain intimidating, which he was a lot of the time, but despite that she felt differently towards him. She knew firsthand of his dangerous animalistic side that he had trouble controlling, yet she still felt incredibly comfortable around him. She'd get homesick at times and found Logan always putting in the effort to be there for her in any way big or small. When she would feel like no one cared about any problems she was having he was the only one who was never too busy to listen and give her honest advice, even if sometimes it wasn't what she wanted to hear. He would never lie to her just for her sake and she appreciated that more than he knew.

She had grown pretty close to him and had taken the time to learn more about the side of him that he didn't show to many people. It took some digging as he was still pretty reserved when it came to showing emotions other than anger, but there were some things she had picked up. He may not show it in the traditional way, but he really did care about all of them. He was the crabby uncle and they were all his family. Logan finally looked back and found her staring at him strangely as he raised a brow.

"Uhhh...ya ok there Half-pint?"

She quickly snapped out of it and shook her head. "Sorry, I was just thinking. About how good you are to me. You'd really make a great dad," she smiled warmly as she thought she noticed a slight tinge of blush on Logan's cheeks as he just muttered and shrugged his shoulders. "Ah it ain't nothin' special. Don't even mention it," he tried to change the subject, "So uh, how's school goin'?" "It's not bad. I'm passing all my classes, and I've been cramming for my finals that are next week. It's nice to get a break from all that studying so thanks for coming here with me." "Any time kiddo. Sounds like ya needed a lil' getaway." "Yeah, I've had a lot on my mind lately," she looked to the side and fidgeted with her hands for a moment, "Hey Mr. Logan? You think I could talk to you about something?"

"Course ya can. Somethin' I can help ya with darlin'?"

"It's just...well Mr. Logan what I wanna know is-"

Logan cut her off. "How many times I gotta tell ya, ya don't gotta keep callin' me 'Mr', y'know? Think we're way past all the formalities. Just Logan'll do," he gave her a small smile for reassurance as she nodded. "Ok Logan. Anyways I was, like, just wondering, it might be stupid but...," she paused, biting her lip momentarily before the words just came tumbling out, "How do you know when a boy likes you?" She looked a little embarrassed for blurting it out like she did, but she was relieved to see no look of judgement on Wolverine's calm face. There never was no matter what she might say to him. "Boys, huh. Ya ain't old enough fer boys yet," his mouth quirked up slightly as Kitty just giggled. "In your mind I'd never be old enough," she shook her head, "But I'm 15 Logan, and boys are starting to notice me and well, I'm noticing them too. So like, what do I do? Should I start dressing different? Talking different? How do I know if I'm doing the right thing?" "Well first things first any boyfriend ya get is gonna need to have a private meetin' with me so I can beat...I mean, have a talk with 'em," he teased her as she laughed and playfully swatted his shoulder. "Stop it, I'm serious! Really though!" "Alright fine. Well I can't speak fer them, but you'd be surprised how much confidence can overcome any kinda physical attraction. It may sound corny, but just stay true to yerself an' those boys won't be able to resist. Any boy that likes ya purely fer yer physical attributes ain't worth yer time anyhow." "Well I don't think I'll have that problem anyways. I mean, I'm not as pretty as someone like Jean-"

"What're ya talkin' about darlin'? Yer beautiful. An' don't let no one ever tell ya otherwise. If they do then they'll have to answer to me," he unsheathed his claws momentarily with a smirk as Kitty just blushed, not one to take compliments that well. "You really mean that?" Logan opened his mouth to answer, but instead came out a snort that just as quickly developed into a goofy looking grin as the burly man surprisingly started to chuckle.

"Heh..Hehehe...Ehehehehee!" Kitty blushed with a frown this time, feeling self-conscious that Logan was now laughing at her as she regret opening up to him about this.

"Well you don't have to laugh at me. If this is all a joke to you then you can just-"

"No I-eheeheehehee! It's not-aahahah! Get away!"

"Get away? You want me to leave?" She was seriously confused by what he was trying to say, though he was struggling to speak clearly through his giggles. "No! N-Not you! Hehehahaa! My feet! Get 'im off! Ahahahahaahaa!" Logan leaned over the sand pile and tried to swat at something on the other side as Kitty finally realized that something else was going on. The teen peeked over the sand and her mind was eased when she found the source of Logan's sudden outburst. Runt had returned from playing down by the water and was now excitedly licking away at the soles of Logan's bare feet while his tail wagged with vigor. It was always a pleasant surprise to see that even with his normally tough exterior Wolverine had his soft side too. Even more surprising was the fact that he was actually a very ticklish guy. Kitty herself had gotten into a few tussles with him when he was in the right mood, usually getting Rogue to help her team up against the gruff mutant until they had him in tears. Currently the playful pup was tickling him greatly as his feet flailed around and his toes curled and flexed, unsuccessfully trying to evade the little tongue. "C'mon! Get that muhuhutt! Baahaahaha! He's ticklin' me!" Logan was laughing harder now as he tried to free his legs by leaning back on his hands and pulling with all his might to no avail. "Aww, he's just playing with you. Lets give him another minute," Kitty smiled, making no move to stop the happy puppy. She loved seeing Logan laugh like this. It was rare for him to do it on his own, but tickling him was always a guarantee. It was just one of the few natural reactions she got to see from him, and it was nice to see him not be so wound up tight all the time. He'd never admit it, but he was always in a much better mood after laughing his guts out. "Whahahat?! No! I caahaan't taahaake-heeheeheehahahah! Stoppit!" Logan howled as he again leaned over the sand mound and tried to shoo the puppy away, but Runt saw his laughter and the flailing of his hands as a positive reaction. In his mind Logan was enjoying this and encouraging him to continue as he'd jump back momentarily to playfully bark before leaping forward to attack his toes with more licks. "OK! OK! Seriously! Aahahahahah! No mohohore! Maahaahake 'im stahahahaap!" Logan fell back onto his elbows as he clawed at the sand in his attempts to pull himself loose, though starting to lose some of his strength from laughing so much. Kitty made some unenthusiastic calls to the puppy to try to get his attention. "Runt? Runt! Come here boy! Oh shoot Logan, he's just not listening to me," she giggled, showing that she really wasn't trying that hard. "Grab 'im!! Just graahahaab 'im!! Eeheeheeheehehe!! Pleeheeheeaase!!"

Kitty pretended to think it over as she listened to his laughter and hysterical giggles for another minute before finally deciding he'd had enough. "Alright, come here you," she smiled and scooped the puppy up as he stretched his tongue to take a few last laps at Logan's toes. She snuggled him close as he licked her chin before placing him back onto the sand and patting his backside. "Go on now. Go play," she shooed him off as he barked and ran back down towards the ocean. She then turned to check on her mentor who was now sitting back up and still a little out of breath, though luckily with his natural abilities he was able to recover fairly quick.

"I didn't...sign up fer this." "You didn't have to! It's all included! Told you this place would be relaxing!" "Yeah....Bein' tickled outta my mind is reeeeaal relaxin'," he grunted sarcastically with a roll of his eyes as she continued to smile brightly at him. "But how do you feel now?"

Logan paused as he realized what she meant. He didn't want to prove her right, but he really did feel relaxed. However he decided he wouldn't oblige her and would just deny it like he normally would. "Feel like I need a long vacation from the lot o' ya," he mustered up a frown as Kitty just smiled knowingly. He didn't have to admit it. She could tell by his body posture and how his muscles weren't tensed up that this was about as relaxed as he could get. "Was that your plan all along? Buryin' me like this so ya could tickle me to death an' "relax" me?" He growled a little, but the way he did it indicated no hint of being angry with her as she just laughed. "Ok yeah, you got me," she rolled her eyes playfully, "Pffft! No, of course not! But I will say it is an added bonus." To add to her tease she promptly reached over and tickled his exposed stomach as he started to squirm and giggle again, but she was close enough that he was then able to give her a few well-placed squeezes on her side causing her to squeal and jump away from him.

He smirked, looking pleased with himself as she glared dangerously back at him. When it was just Kitty by herself trying to launch a tickle attack on him she could get in a few good shots, but he usually was able to turn the tables rather quickly with having his size and strength on his side. The silly girl was always wearing flip flops or some other flimsy shoes that were easily removed and his rough fingers could go to town on her soft soles, while she would screech and pound her small fists on his back. It was only when she was able to get reinforcements like Rogue and/or Boom Boom that he turned it down a little bit, not wanting to get too rough with them. The problem was that they knew that and with that weakness exposed it just enabled them to more easily get him subdued where they'd all pile on top of him and viciously tickle his ribs and his unbearably ticklish underarms until he cried "Uncle".

Logan always liked to gloat about the times he would best her though. "That'll teach ya to mess with me Pryde. Guess I win afterall." "Oh do you?" Her eyes darted mischievously to the side as she immediately rushed for his feet. Logan's own eyes widened, forgetting that he was still prisoner as he grabbed a hold of her arm briefly, but she easily phased out of his grip.

His next move was to rapidly start trying to unbury his legs from the sand trap, but the moment he felt her fingers digging into his soles he lost his momentum and fell back in a fit of hysterical laughter. "Naaaahahahahohohoo! K-Kihihihitty!! I was....j-just johohokin'!!" "Oh yeah? Well I'm not the one who's laughing!" She grinned, spidering her fingers all over his tender arches as his feet wiggled frantically to get away, "How's it feel Logan, hmm? Does this tickle?" She enjoyed taunting him from this side for it was usually him saying similar things to her while he'd tickle her feet. It wasn't often that she really got the chance to get him there because of how strong he was, not to mention his feet were his worst spot so he guarded them well. She was going to enjoy this as long as she could get away with. "Ye-Yehehehes!! Ohahahahaha!! Staahaap!!" He laid on his back and pounded his fist against the sand as Runt ran around them, barking excitedly and occasionally diving in to lick Logan's face, which in turn was making him laugh even more as he tried to shove the little dog away.

"Aww the big bad Wolverine has ticklish feet huh? Coochie coochie coo!" Her fingers wriggled their way right under his toes, knowing he'd hit the roof. "AHAHAhaha!! No!! C'mon!! Quihihit playin'!! Nohohot the tohohohoes!!" Logan reflexively thrashed like crazy with his arms wrapped around his stomach, laughing so hard he thought he was going to bust his gut open. "Declare me the winner and I may show mercy," she was enjoying her power trip as she continued tickling his toes while her other hand performed a devastating scribbling attack on his meaty soles. "Ahahahalright!! I sur-surrender!! Hahahhaaha!! Ya win!! Ya wiiiiin!!" Tears had began to creep out of his eyes, but Kitty had one last thing in mind. "Admit you like Runt! Tell him you love him!" She barely got the words out as he began yelling them at the top of his lungs. "I LOVE YA!! I LOVE YA RUNT!! BAAHAHAHAHAAH!!"

Kitty smiled big and finally stopped, knowing that once Logan started obeying demands that he really couldn't take anymore. Wolverine panted for breath and remained fairly motionless while Runt climbed all over him and covered his face with wet kisses.

He finally regained some sense as he grabbed a hold of the small dog and cradled him in his arm, slowly sitting back up. "Aww I knew you loved him!" Kitty laughed as Logan raised a brow at her, but then couldn't help smiling as Runt squirmed up from his hold and licked at his stubbled chin.

"Yeah fine, ya got me. Guess I do," he set the pup down and wiped the slobber off of his face with his hand, "Geez, well ya definitely ain't buryin' me all the way now like ya wanted. In fact I'm never lettin' anyone bury me again. I've been tortured a lot o' ways in my lifetime an' bein' tickled like that is by far the worst."

Thinking of the extremely painful tortures Logan had experienced with him even comparing it on the same level as tickling made Kitty giggle at how overdramatic he could be. "Heehee, not my fault you're so ticklish. But that's a good thing! Because it's always a great day when I get to see you smile." Before he knew it she had jumped on him to hug her arms around his neck; his heart softening a little from her words as he gently patted her back. There weren't many that could look past his prickly exterior and genuinely cared about his well-being. "Yeah yeah, don't rub it in," he couldn't help smiling at just how much affection she showed towards him, even if he did resist at times. It was his turn to make her smile now. "By the way what I was tryin' to tell ya darlin' before I got interrupted earlier, yeah I meant what I said."

"Meant what?" She pulled back to curiously look him in the eyes. "That yer beautiful. One o' the most beautiful girls I know inside an' out. I'd never lie to ya 'bout that."

The smile that came over her face was worth everything that had happened to him that day. "Thanks Logan. I won't forget that. Thank you for trusting me and always letting me see the sweet side of you," she squeezed him tighter for a few moments before finally letting him out of her embrace, "Well how about we get you out of this sand now, hm?" With his help she then got started working on unburying his legs from the sand. As they neared exposing his legs Kitty couldn't resist giving his foot a little tickle, laughing as Logan yelped and yanked his legs completely free. He glared playfully at the giggling girl. "So funny I forgot to laugh." "Well I can fix that. Give it here and I'll try again," she teased, reaching for his foot again as he hastily scrambled to stand up. "In yer dreams. Well I think I'm a little over this beach. Whaddya say we go do somethin' else?" Logan grunted as he bent down to pick up his tshirt and pulled it back on over his head, then dusting the sand off of his legs with the towel. "Sure," Kitty nodded as she got up and collected her things, including having to pick up Runt out of the hole he was digging in the sand, "I know Professor said it's the student's choice, but maybe we could, like, go do something that you want to do?"

Logan looked back at her surprised as they started walking across the sand, not expecting that he was going to get to choose for once.

"Somethin' I wanna do? Well I really could use a drink after all that torture ya put me through. I say we hit the bar. Yer 21 right?"

"I'm 15 you dork!" She grinned, knowing he knew damn well as she poked his ribs to make him chuckle. "Heh, yeah I know I know. Alright well how 'bout I take ya to the gun range? Ya ever shot a gun before? It's somethin' ya definitely should know how to do in case yer ever in that situation. I mean, I don't use 'em much myself, but I gotta practice my shot anyways fer once those boys start comin' to the school callin' on ya," he flinched with a wide smile and managed to brush her hand away as she tried to tickle him again. "Oooh you keep this up and later I'm going to get the girls together and we're just gonna destroy you," she was half-serious and that pushed Logan's cocky side back out. "Ya think I'm scared? Bring it on bub. I can take on an army o' ninjas single-handed, pretty sure a few teenage girls would be nothin'," he grinned proudly, flexing his muscles as she just laughed and shook her head. "You remember that. Remember you said that when we have you pinned down and you're begging for your life." "Ya got a wild imagination Pryde," Logan smirked with a roll of his eyes, trying not to show a hint of just how much that thought made him shiver. "Just picture it. And we're not just going to stick to the usual spots, oh no," she succeeded in pinching his side this time to make him squirm, "I mean it'd be a crime to not let the other girls experience the joy of seeing how you react to having your feet tickled. I'm sure Jean would be more than happy to help us out and hold you down for us. Oooh then we could all get your other bad spots too at the same time; your armpits, your belly, that one spot on your lower ribs. I'll bet it would almost kill you if we-" "Alright, cut that out! I get it. I won't kill yer boyfriends. Well....long as they don't give me a reason to," he cursed himself for breaking under the mental torture she was inflicting, but imagining all that was making his skin crawl.

"That's all I can ask of you," she laughed and patted his large bicep, "Can't promise we still won't go through with that idea, but we'll see how it goes." "Great," Logan groaned with a face-palm, but then let out a guffaw as Kitty reached into his armpit with wiggling fingers, "HAAH! Will ya stop ticklin' me?!" "Ok ok, I'll stop. Oh hey, before we go to that shooting place do you think we could get something to eat first? I'm starving!" She hugged her waist as Logan felt his own stomach growl and nodded. "Yeah, me too. You an' that mutt made me burn a lot o' calories by makin' me laugh so much. I'll let ya pick this one."

"Groovy! Because I know of this great vegan place that you'll just...," she peeked a glance up at the disgusted look that had spread over Logan's face as she just started to laugh, "I'm kidding! I'm kidding! There's actually a really good steak house around here that's to die for! And they have a nice big outdoor patio so Runt can join us!"

She held the pup up in her arms who blissfully barked at hearing his name as Logan grinned and put his arm around her shoulders. "That's my girl. Now yer talkin' my language. Get on up now," he nudged her towards the steps leading up the cliffside to leave the beach. "Pretty sure they serve alcohol too so you can still get that drink you wanted!"

"Perfect. I might need to get some to-go also," he chuckled as he envisioned Kitty making good on her threats later that evening of getting her girlfriends after him. Having a good buzz would make that experience a lot easier to stand. But that would have to wait until later for he needed to be completely sober for their next activity. A firearm was serious business, and he would need his full mental capacity to thoroughly explain and show his student how to safely load, handle and shoot a hand gun.

His report back to the Professor later would be one of success in forging a stronger bond with young Kitty Pryde. He'd leave the part out where he was repeatedly tickled mercilessly, though seeing how tranquil Logan seemed would trigger Xavier's curiosity into how he got in that state. Wolverine was pretty resistant to keeping the Professor out of his head when he didn't want him in there so the telepath was forced to snoop around inside Kitty's mind later to unveil the truth. He of course knew that Logan was ticklish with it being hard for things to stay a secret in the school, but he was unaware of just how much the laughter he produced would greatly ease his mindset. There weren't many things that could get Logan to just shut off and forget about anything that was troubling him so Charles was pleased to see that something so simple could achieve that for him. He was also happy that people like Kitty, someone that Logan trusted, were more than willing to help him with that. It might be a stretch, but Charles looked at it as being the best therapy he'd ever seen for Logan's mental health. He'd known the man for many, many years and seen him try so many methods to bring him out of his brooding nature when all along he just needed to have a good laugh every now and then.

He hoped Logan wouldn't resist it too much and would realize what a positive thing it was for him. He could really stand a break from the tortured thoughts that constantly plagued his mind all these years. Though Charles had a good feeling that Kitty and the others wouldn't give him much choice in the matter either way. EPILOGUE: (Just a little more! XD) Word Count: 1,391 Charles was getting ready to turn in for the night when he decided to take one last scan of any conscious minds in the mansion grounds to make sure there were no impending threats nearby. He quickly picked up on a conversation downstairs. Kitty was among Rogue, Tabitha and Jean and she was going over some kind of strategy, though hearing the words "attack" and "Logan" made Xavier curious and tune in a little more precise. As all the details of their plot emerged Charles couldn't help the smile that came over him, but he still felt a sense of duty to at least try to warn his old friend. He quickly tracked Logan's current whereabouts, finding the man in the kitchen grabbing a beer from his stash and oblivious to what was about to befall him.

"Logan? Logan can you hear me?"

Logan wasn't even startled, used to having Xavier telepathically contact him on a frequent basis. "Hey Chuck. What's goin' on? Ya want a beer too?" Logan smirked and raised his beer can as he took a big swig, "This here's a double IPA I picked up from the-" "They're coming Logan. Get out of there. Get out before it's too late."

Logan frowned, having detected no unfamiliar scents within miles of the school as he rolled his eyes while chugging the rest of his beer. "What're ya talkin' about? No one's comin', ya crazy old fool. Maybe ya should try gettin' some sleep an' then you'll quit bein' so damn paranoid." Charles could now only listen and watch through all the involved eyes of Logan's doom as the first of them walked into the kitchen. "Oh, Jean. Ya should be in yer room. It's kinda late an' I got a doozy of a combat trainin' session for y'all tomorrow so ya might wanna rest up an'-Woah! Hey! Hey Jean what is this?! Put me down right now!" "Sorry Logan, it's nothing personal." "Thanks Jean! We'll take it from here."

"He's all yours ladies." "Kitty?! Rogue?! T-Tabitha?! Now wait a minute girls holdin' me down like this ain't fair! It's bad enough without- Oh nonono, don't! Don't take my boots off! At least let me keep my- No, not the socks too! Look! I'll take it easy on ya on the trainin' tomorrow! I'll cancel it even! Just don't- Heeheheehee!"

"Oooh the tough old badger is sensitive there."

"Told you!"

"Well Ah'm definitely gonna go first!"

"Do the honors Rogue! And then Runt wants a turn again!"

"No wait! We can make a deal! Aw hell, yer not gonna get me there too, are ya?! But-But not all at the same time, right? Right?!?!" "Don't worry Logan. It won't be that bad. We're just gonna give yah your daily dose of giggles!" "But I already got it today! Ask Kitty!" "She meant from ALL of us ya dummy!" "Ok, now on my command ladies. One..."

"No no no wait! Hear me out!" "Two..."

"Please! Ya can't do this! This is inhumane!" "Three!"

"BWAAHAHAHAHAAHAH!! NONOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA! STOOOOHAHAHAHOP IHIHIHIHIT!! AHAHAHAHAHAHACH-CHUHUHUHUHUCK!! HEHEHEHEHELLLLLLPPPP!!"

"I tried to warn you Logan. I'm afraid you're on your own." Charles simply smiled with a sympathetic shake of his head as he continued to observe. Logan's mental defenses had been disabled with him being too preoccupied with dealing with the extreme tickling that Charles was able to sneak in and see just what was going on in his mind.

Yes, Logan had begged like crazy not to be tickled, but it really didn't bother him as much as he made out. His thoughts revealed that he was enjoying the bonding aspect of this with the girls; not minding having to suffer as long as they were having fun. This was a little more intense tickling than he was used to so his sensitive nerves were a bit overwhelmed trying to process it all, but his brain was still flooded with the feel good hormones, pushing all signs of any stress to the back of his mind. In a way Logan was glad that Jean was holding him down as he didn't have to combat the urge to fight against it on his own. He didn't have to concentrate on not lashing out and accidentally hurting one of the girls, which was always a fear he had. All he had to do was laugh. The pleading for them to stop was involuntary and he didn't really try to keep it in, knowing the girls loved hearing it as much as they did hearing him laugh so freely. Charles realized that Logan did indeed see the benefit in this for him, but also he saw the joy and amusement that it brought to the girls and that's what really pushed him to grin and bear it.

He watched as they finally let him go about six minutes later, which was about four minutes after Logan was already in tears from laughing. Jean lifted the exhausted man off the floor and gently placed him onto the nearby couch recliner to recover before bidding the others goodnight and heading up to her room.

Kitty, Rogue and Tabitha scrambled to get on the couch as they all piled on top to hug and cuddle him, still playfully teasing him. "Man, you're just too ticklish Wolvie."

"Yeah Ah think we almost killed 'im." "No way! He can take it, right Logan?"

"Piece o' cake. Barely felt a thing."

The three girls just laughed and snuggled against the older mutant as he put his arms around them and pulled them closer. "Love you Logan!" "Yeah, thanks for pulling that stick out of your butt for a little while, you pushover."

"Well that stick is goin' right back in first thing tomorrow. I'm still holdin' that trainin' session in the mornin' an' I expect all o' ya to show up ready to be serious an' pay attention. No foolin' around, alright?" "Are you suggesting we wouldn't be on our best behavior? You know we're your best students."

"Sure, I'll let ya think that if it helps ya sleep at night."

"Hey!"

"Hehehehe, alright knohahahock it off! I know I'm lucky to have all o' ya!" "Don't you forget it." "Believe me, that's somethin' I ain't ever gonna forget."

The way he smiled at them showed pure devotion, which was something Charles hadn't seen from him in a long time. He loved those girls and they loved him back. He'd make sure nothing ever happened to them and would protect them with his life. Sleep was overtaking Logan now as he yawned and allowed his eyes to shut; his mind still swimming in the flood of endorphins and ensuring he would not be having any nightmares. Kitty and Rogue leaned in closer to his sides and Tabitha lay across his lap as they all closed their eyes as well; Logan unable to hold back his smile.

A small yip from the floor made Logan crack open one eye as he spied Runt trying to get up onto the couch with them, but was too small to reach the top. Being carefully not to move too much and disrupt the girls Logan slowly lowered his foot for the little puppy to climb onto and used it to lift him up. Runt gave his foot a soft lick in appreciation as Logan winced and had to try his hardest to not make any sudden movements. The pup then spun a few circles and made himself comfortable nestled between Logan's feet on the recliner as the man gave one last smile of satisfaction and began to drift back off to sleep. Those three girls and their dog were in the safest place they could ever be; in the loving embrace of one of the deadliest mutants alive. God forbid anyone who tried to disturb them. "Ya can get outta my head now Chuck. Show's over."

Charles was shocked and instantly released all the mind connections he had made, but he couldn't help letting out a relieved chuckle. It wasn't that he had been able to sneak into Logan's mind, he had been let in. Seeing this whole night play out had Xavier remember something he had seen in Kitty's mind from her beach outing with Logan earlier. "You'd really make a great dad," she had told him. Charles couldn't agree more.

#ticklefic #wolverine #logan #kittypryde #shadowcat #fluff #familybonding #tickle #tickling #ticklish!wolverine #ticklish!logan #xmenevolution #boomboom #tabithasmith #rogue #annamarie #jeangrey

[portela-diez]

Draft Ratings - Fantasy EPL 2021

Yes, spent way too much time on this. But it had to be done.

Draft Rating: C+

-        Overview: Big Greenery. The name says it all. Bradley AKA “Ted Lasso” went for power with this year’s draft. Mr. Lasso may have found a loophole in the current fantasy format and will surely look to win his key battles in the air. With the likes of Van Dijk, Wan B, Tyrone Mings, Declan, Bissouma, Jannik, and the monstrous Benteke, you know that racking the 0.5’s Aerial Duels will occur week in and week out. The towering prowess of the squad may nod a couple baggers, but will certainly score a few own goals. However, it must be said, do not underestimate the man that may consider “football” his 5th favorite sport to watch and made the 2015 playoffs final.

-        Threat: Benteke

-        Sleeper: Mbuemo (hate saying that word)

-        Last remark: Healthy status of the entire squad is the only reason there is (+) tailing the C rating.

Draft Rating: B-

-        Overview: You would think being an Arsenal fan, Chasqui would hedge his bets, learn from past mistakes, and keep Arsenal picks to a minimum. But it seems like the true gunner spirit can never be suppressed. Nor relied on. Despite having the best defender in the league, this squad seems to lack depth and the almighty 90-minute studs. What IS going for him, though, is his new team name. With an updated name like Chasqui, and a fresh tattoo to match, this manager will never let a shitty draft ruin his year!

-        Threat: Emi Martinez

-        Sleeper: Ivan Toney

-        Last remark: Chasqui, the Peruvian messenger will surely have a message for me after this gets published.

Draft Rating: A

-        Overview: This team may have it all. His Kinko’s cheat sheet print out may have proven to be a wise move. Unlike Chasqui, Jon Fryer wants to improve on previous historical mishaps. Did he choose Man City players? Most definitely. But, did he pick the seemingly obvious Cityzen starters this year? Absolutely, mate. On top of that, the dark tabloid freaks still say HurriKANE has a chance at wearing his colors this year. Either way, his #1 pick guarantees goals. With a sneaker Shaw #2 pick, a late Auba #5 pick, and even a #9 Wilson pick, Jon Fryer may have decent season. However, wildcard Jonnie may need to be wary of the new FAAB spending budget. He has the tendencies to go all in, so let’s hope City doesn’t sign anyone else during the transfer window close, for his own sake.

-        Threat: Harry Kane

-        Sleeper: Milot Rashica

-        Last remark: Please get a new team name. Barn!

Draft Rating: B+

-        Overview: jvdV has 2 laws in managerial handbook: (1) Being the staunch defender that he is in REAL life, he will always draft 6 defenders. And there will always be a Ben Mee type player somewhere in there focalizing his back line. (2) Allan Saint Maximin and Richarlison belong to him. This man does not care if he picks them up in 2nd and 3rd round. They are his, do not even attempt to trade. The day that jvdV does not get to manage this pair, the world may slowly stop spinning, and begin spinning backwards.

-        Threat: Romelu Lukaku

-        Sleeper: None (lol)

-        Last remark: The Vardy Party is always on, it never stops.

Draft Rating: B-

-        Overview: Welcome to the league Phil! Now let’s talk about Cesc. The “Brentford” of the league, this wiz have may have a novato stamp on his forehead, but he surely has the tendency to turn his analytical art into a full blown legendary Leeds squad, capable of knocking down the top dawgs. With his Bundesliga 2 turtleneck, his never-before-seen data spreadsheet, and his Mount/Coufal/Harrison picks, this manager does not seem like he is here to mess about. Upon squad review, gaps exist. So much so, that at the time of this notation, he has already dropped 4 players. Best of luck to the Welsh gentleman!

-        Threat: Mason Mount

-        Sleeper: Leon Bailey

-        Last remark: No one tell him that he has to actually wake up sometimes early on weekends, cuz that boy can sleep!

Draft Rating: A+

-        Overview: Ellis got the Poodle Magic that every manager desires on draft day. Despite drafting a potentially injury-ridden Eze (that he was completely blind to), the team takes the cake from the sheer looks of it. The best pundits will tell you to snatch a premier defender in the 1st couple rounds, but the lad from Shrewsbury selfishly robbed all with 2, followed by a Werner and Rashford 5th / 6th round out. On top of all that, he commendably offered Jimenez a spot on his team. Not only a great manager, but charitable. Hats off.

-        Threat: Thomas Soucek

-        Sleeper: Patson Daka

-        Last remark: Hopefully the Wolves’ wingbacks don’t whip in too many crosses to the Mexi talisman. Feet only.

Draft Rating: C

-        Overview: Little did we know but looks like Evan may have some long-lost family in Leeds! That, or, he has a lot of trust in Bielsa. With 4 players from Leeds, and interestingly so, this team may have a similar level of volatility. A quick peek at the crystal ball will tell you that this team’s future has lots of massive point hauls with demanding victories, surely, but the hangovers could be worse, just like mine from yesterday’s draft. With a couple depth tweaks, the team may take him out from beneath the bottom of the barrel.

-        Threat: Jack Grealish (or Chris Wood, actually)

-        Sleeper: Kalvin Philips

-        Last remark: If you don’t get a couple quick victories and bounce from last season, then you may always walk alone.

Draft Rating: A-

-        Overview: Sonless is no longer sonless. Last season proved to be difficult without his star man, so he’s gone the extra mile this year to snatch him quick and change his luck. The question is… how will his #1 pick perform if his lethal strike partner vanishes off to another club? Time will tell. Until then, his defensive moves were that of an astute gaffer. His midfield will demand set plays and minutes. And his attack is good enough to pop him into the upper half off the table.

-        Threat: Son

-        Sleeper: Ibrahima Konate

-        Last remark: Lewis Dunk is a world class defender. Anyone that disagrees is an imposter.

Draft Rating: A-

-        Overview: Some may say he has the advantage living 10 hours ahead in Tel Aviv, where he gets to drink pints during matches without remorse under the shadows of the moon, compared to the rest of us that have to feel the wrath of our girlfriends hearing our 6AM Saturday alarm clocks, but either way, he is the reigning champ with the #1 pick.  Anyone with Bruno Fernandes is destined for greatness. It’s just the way it is. Throw in the likes of the Tarkowski commander, the rough diamond of Benrama, and a triggering Leicester midfield, and this gaffa may be super gluing his hands to the imaginary cup.

-        Threat: Bruno Fernandes

-        Sleeper: Adam Armstrong

-        Last remark: Will the Zern ever give up on Hudson Odoi to make his big splash? Don’t stay awake for this one!

Draft Rating: A+

-        Overview: The fact of the matter is gold talks. Even though he is undoubtedly the best fantasy manager, he has yet to get 1st place. EVER. Call it the commissioner’s curse. But this year, things are different. You know why? Because Messi left Barcelona. This will crack the plates, shift the fault lines, and force his misfortunes to flip over into luck. Somehow, with 4th pick, he landed last years PFA player of the year, KDB. Likewise with a 11th Ziyech pick. That already has to mean something. The only reason this rating did not get A++, is because his team may be heavily relying on some unknown sleepers. That, and he never picks a solid backline, which directly translates to his lack of defending in REAL life. But that’s just his game!  

-        Threat: KDB

-        Sleeper: Cucho Hernandez

-        Last remark: If he were to rely less on players that speak Latin-rooted languages, then he may actually have a chance.  

[mythgirlimagines]

Tuesday is here! And it is time for the moment you’ve been waiting for! In the pink corner, we have Myth, the Former SHSL Martial Artist! —————————————————————– Raised by a Japanese MMA champion and a Ukrainian Krav Maga master, Myth grew up learning about all sorts of martial arts practiced by her ancestors. And she definitely has the skills to back that knowledge up! Her parents have taught her a whole cavalcade of martial arts that she managed to combine and polish to perfection. Defeating opponents up to one and a half feet taller than her, many people have nicknamed her ”The Pink and Pint-sized Powerhouse”! Despite what most people might think, she doesn’t have a complex regarding her height. She views her small size as a method of deception towards her opponents and an improvement to her speed and limberness! —————————————————————– Her times as a student at Hope’s Peak wasn’t that complicated. She spent most of her time training in her dojo with the other athletes in Hope’s Peak and even people who wish to learn her ways. When asked to return to Hope’s Peak to chaperone the SHSL and SJHSL students, she viewed it as an opportunity to educate the inexperienced youth on her ways. She managed to form a teacher-student relationship with the following athletic students: One of her former classmates and famed spouter of graphic images, Egg Anon, the Former SHSL Soldier! The cheery optimist who’s knowledge of marine life is as big as her heart, Iris Anon, the SJHSL Swimmer! The lethargic athletic prodigy who hates practice and loves his bed and has a secret soft spot for his kohais, Just Anon, the SHSL Baseball Player! The kind and courteous (which is odd, given their talent), yet forever dense to Janon’s affections, Curious Anon, the SJHSL Biker Gang Leader! The odd girl out, the athletic, yet cheery and childish, crime fighter, Dream Anon, the SHSL Detective! —————————————————————– As for Fighter!Myth’s color scheme, she wears a pink hoodie with purple details and her family’s emblem on the back, over some white bandages binding her chest. She wears matching pink pants with purple stripes on each end, kept up by a black belt. She has white sports tape wrapped around her arms, shoulder-length undyed hair and a scar from defending someone against a mugger. —————————————————————– For her personality compared to Romantic!Myth, Fighter!Myth is far more cool-headed and stoic, never raising her voice or losing her temper. Her family has taught her the importance of self-control and discipline, and it really shows in her current day behavior. But no one can deny that she is a wise and helpful soul, always willing to give some well-placed advice and a helping hand. Just don’t ask her for help with modern technology. She was raised in a dojo for all of her life and is like an old man when it comes to technology. She is usually found either meditating or training for the upcoming tournament, but she knows the importance of not over-working yourself. —————————————————————– So, what do you think of Fighter!Myth? Can you picture yourself training or meditating with her in the Mythoverse? I can just imagine it: ”Myth Anon: Into the Mythoverse”! You just hanging out with a bunch alternate Myths! —————————————————————–

“Into the Mythoverse” lol, I really like Fighter!Me, she seems awesome!!

#submission #anon #fusion anon #art #not my art #anon kg #i speak #talentswap tuesday

[deniigi]

What happens when Frank Castle meets Sam? Is there going to be an adoption war?

oh I have a scrap for this. hold on.

----------

It was his own fault.

He’d been lax. He’d come in after a night out for drinks with the gals and had been maybe a touch drunker than intended—but like. It was his solemn duty in the group to finish people’s drinks. That was his job. He was assigned it and everything since some of his friends were very good at buying drinks and even better at getting others bought for them that they could not finish.

So Sam was just lookin’ out for folks, you know?

Being chivalrous or something.

Or maybe the girls had just figured out that the drunker he was, the more likely he was to dance was them.

Actually, probably that.

He was certainly uncoordinated when he got home at what felt like 3am but what his phone seemed to think was 2.

He might have run into everything in the downstairs kitchen. Might have dropped his room keys twice. Might have started giggling when Tuesday came downstairs to try to help but just made him drop them again.

Only then did he realize that there was absence of noise upstairs and the lights were on.

Only then did he realize that people were judging him.

Whuh-oh.

“E’erything’s good,” he promised the staircase. “E’eryone got home. I’m home. Hiiiii.”

Upstairs did not resume making noise despite the light.

“Red, what the fuck?” Mr. Castle’s husky voice asked. “You just lettin’ randos live with you now?”

Sam didn’t need superhearing to hear Matt’s groan.

“He’s not—listen, tell Karen—”

“No, you tell Karen,” Mr. Castle snapped.

“Fine. I’ll tell Karen that I told her not to fuck with the Russians and so now her only option is Hawkeye,” Matt huffed. “In the meantime, you will get the fuck out of my house.”

Oh no, Karen. She was always doing something weird and wild. Dangerous was a box that had to be ticked for her to take a case, Sam was pretty sure.

“Teach, is Karen okay?” he slurred up the stairs.

Sudden silence.

“I thought you said he was a roommate,” Mr. Castle said dangerously.

“He is. Karen is our family; we are allowed to discuss our family, Francis,” Matt said.

“Who is he, Red?”

“A roommate, Guns-and-Roses. Get out.”

“Who you are close enough to to chat happy families? I don’t think so. Who is he?”

And just like that, Sam’s New York brain lit the fuck back up and he realized who was upstairs chattin’ with the old man.

He didn’t drop his keys this time.

He did, however, hush Tuesday when she tried to follow him in.

“Your damn dog ain’t that friendly Red, who is he?” Mr. Castle’s voice rumbled threateningly even though softly now, through the wall.

Sam flopped down onto the bed and decided that everything was fine. Everything was chill. No problems here, nope.

“WHAT.”

None, none, none.

No problems. He was going to sleep.

“Are you out of your mind, Red? Are you actually out of your—where is he—”

On the way to unconsciousness if Sam had anything to say about it.

“Frank, leave it,” Matt’s voice said dangerously over a commotion on the stairs.

“Hell no. You’re gonna get him killed. Does he even know what he’s signed up for? He’s like fourteen.”

Wow.

Rude.

Sam knew everything about his baby face, thanks, and fourteen was lowballing it by far.

He looked at least fifteen. Come on now.

He heard a weird noise outside his door and decided to bury himself under the comforters to pretend it wasn’t there.

“Frank,” Matt warned, only feet away now. “Drop this.”

“This is Spidey all over again,” Mr. Castle said. “All over again. That kid is permanently damaged, Red. He ain’t never coming back from the shit he’s seen. It’s a goddamn miracle he’s half as functional as he is. And you’re doing it again? You’re letting another one go through this?”

“Peter had every opportunity to leave,” Matt said. “I never—we never told him that he couldn’t leave.”

“You just don’t get it,” Mr. Castle said. “All these years and you don’t fuckin’ get it—you makin’ these kids feel special just makes ‘em cling harder to this shit. The harder the cling, the sooner they die. None of them are special, Red. You know it. Your teacher knew it. They’re made into something special.”

“Sam’s different.”

Sam’s heart turned all the way over in his chest. All the way. A full rotation that dropped his stomach while it was at it.

Mr. Castle said nothing for a long time.

“He’s not,” he said finally. “Don’t do this. You know better than this. Let him go. Scare him away. Do what you have to—I’m serious. It’s just gonna hurt you both in the—”

“Get. Out,” Matt said.

“You’re so fuckin’ stub—”

“Get the fuck out. Now. I’ll deal with Karen. Get the fuck out.”

Sam held his breath, listening hard for the sound of feet moving away from the door.

They didn’t come.

Oh, shit.

Things were about to get real.

“Where’s he from, Red?” Mr. Castle asked lowly.

“Leave,” Matt said.

“I’ll take him back. Where’d you find him? Won’t let nothin’ happen to him on the way, alright? Let’s be easy about this for once.”

“I’m going to say it one last time,” Matt said. “Get. Out. Now.”

Sam heard the step forward and the sound of Matt stepping back against the door. He threw off the covers.

 --

Mr. Castle clearly didn’t expect some half-pint Chinese brat with glowing eyes to slam out of the room and land a good one on his undefended solar plexus.

He stumbled back and Matt lunged forward to grab Sam before he could do any more damage. Sam hated when he did that. He always ended up tossed over a shoulder.

This time was no different.

First tossed over a shoulder, then dropped in bed. And then the door closed again in a flash.

“Upstairs,” Matt’s baritone ordered in the hall.

The room was pitch black.

“You want to talk? Fine. We’ll talk. Upstairs,” Matt repeated.

Tuesday whimpered.

“Fuckin’ same, girl,” Sam grumbled to her in the dark. “Can’t even defend my own honor apparently.”

“What the actual fuck was that?” Mr. Castle’s voice rasped.

Sam found that the sound made him proud.

“Someone different,” Matt said. “Your choice. Either upstairs or out.”

Sam was surprised when the footfalls turned around and sounded back up the stairs instead of to the door. He couldn’t hear Matt’s, but catching Matt’s footsteps was an art and not one that Sam was in the headspace to practice.

And he didn’t have to.

The door opened after a moment.

----------

(I also have a little snippet of a de-aged, baby Inimitable Sam with Frank which is very cute, but a little less relevant to this question lol)

Frank kind of misinterprets the relationship between Matt and Sam and thinks Matt is being selfish and reckless; he doesn’t really understand what Sam gets out of this relationship too.

Idk if Sam and Frank would get on very well honestly, anon. They are very different people with very different perspectives. I feel like Frank would spend a lot of time trying to save Sam from shit he doesn’t want to be saved from and there would be a lot of kicking and screaming and adamant refusals (on Sam’s part) to play the victim, which I’m not sure Frank would know how to deal with in the same way that Matt, who has had to play the victim his whole life and so really knows that frustration, does.

#fic #inimitable verse #ficlet

[quidfree]

Hi! I saw that you wrote some prompts, I’m hope I’m not too late... could you do a James/Sirius prompt 11? Hope you’re not tired of writing about them I saw you got a lot of requests for that pairing

i never tire of these two x

11: i almost lost you (heavy stuff lol)

in many ways it is the first time they face him. 

sure, there had been the recruitment offer, midway through seventh year, like that was going to go anywhere; sirius' mocking laughter and the both of them staunchly unafraid, the handful of them (the year’s best and brightest, as it were) all comparing notes to lessen the slightly hysterical awareness that their last year of high school had included job offers from the dark lord himself. ignoring the fact that some of them had accepted.

that had been hogwarts, however, and though in age they are not far from that time this is markedly different. james has been in duels before, obviously; james has been in nasty ones at that, mainly with various members of slytherin house. the irony of the situation does not elude him as he ducks a sectumsempra curse. fights with the order are not the same. there is an unshakeable urgency to them, and the knowledge that all around you people are afraid, or dying, afraid of dying.

this fight is worse, too. there is a feeling of grim awareness coursing through him before he even knows why, and when he knows why it feels obvious. 

“the bastard is here!” moody had shouted, two, five, ten minutes ago, vanishing in a flurry of spells. james has lost track of him since, though he thinks he saw him crack someone’s jaw open with his wooden leg at some point. but the bastard is here, indeed, in flesh and blood, if tom riddle still has those. 

now, as he stands stock-still, wand raised, nerves singing, all of those ridiculous rumours they’d invented in school seem less implausible. 

“james potter,” lord voldemort says, coolly, advancing a little. they’re not close, but there’s an open space between them, largely unobstructed by the fights taking place around them. james spares half a look for the death eater he’d just knocked out, verifies he’s unconscious, then meets the man’s cruel, removed gaze. 

tom riddle had been handsome, in that uncanny aristocratic way that a vein of slytherin purebloods are, dark and charismatic and not all-together unfamiliar, though not the type of bloke james’d like a pint with. voldemort’s eyes are an eerie red, and his skin is reptilian, stretched tight; he looks like the sort of thing james had firmly pretended not to have nightmares about when he convinced his parents he was old enough to be read the warlock’s hairy heart. 

“tom,” james echoes, with a genial smile. “small world.”

the faint smile flickers; the man’s snake-like eyes don’t blink. “what a waste of a fine wizard. would you not be spared, potter?”

“spared a lecture, sure,” james retorts. they’re circling each other now, slowly; his pulse is thundering in his ears, throat tight. “otherwise, i’ll pass.”

“no? not even if it would spare your mudblood girl? it seems such a shame for you to lose her and your dear parents in such rapid succession.”

“she can handle herself just fine,” james says, through the throb of how dare he making him see red. his parents’ funeral was barely a month ago. “and my parents clearly raised me better than yours did.”

he just about manages to stop the killing curse very casually flung his way, quidditch reflexes rebounding it harmlessly skywards, then blocks three hexes in rapid succession, twisting sideways to launch two of his own back. voldemort stops them with ease, of course, but it gives james the time to move, pull away from the fray where anyone behind them might get hit, draw the man towards a hallway instead.

he’s a good dueller. near top of his year, even. but he’s eighteen, and six months into the order, and way out of his fucking league for an extended one on one with the dark lord himself.

it doesn’t matter. adrenaline carries him forwards, courage in his veins. he side-steps two crucios, throws out a hex voldemort has to twist to knock away, ignores the lightning-speed of his opponent for his own reflexive reactions. this is a fight like any other, at its core, wand against wand, wizard against wizard; he will kick as much ass as his magic permits, despite the sick thudding in his gut.

“very good,” voldemort calls, mocking, over the explosive sparks between them, robes flapping as he turns. “i expect you excelled at defence against the dark arts in your n.e.w.t.s.”

“i expect you failed,” james shoots back, faux-curious, then has to trip over himself to miss a curse; it gets him in the shoulder, burning like flames, and he swallows a yell to fire a quick block against the next volley, using the spare seconds to finish the curse before he has to duck and roll ahead of the next flash of green light, which catches his robes as he goes. 

from the floor he slams out several curses of his own, one particularly annoying binding spell managing to require voldemort’s full attention as he jumps to his feet. his arm is no longer on fire, but the whole shoulder area has gone fully numb, and the smug look on his opponent’s face says he knows this. 

he’s seen the same thing on too many’s people faces not to theorise. no doubt it’ll spread down his arm, loosen his grip at the worst time. 

well, fuck it. he wasn’t an excellent team captain for three years for a lack of ability. 

he tosses his wand from one hand to the other, and enjoys the momentary surprise on the dark lord’s face as he volleys a massive incendio his way. delightfully, it actually ignites the bottom of his robes. 

in the seconds where he can afford to, he listens to the sounds of the room drift in through the ringing in his ears: screams, and crying, and spells being thrown dizzyingly from all sides. mad-eye, somewhere, hollering strategies. the tell-tale cracks of apparition. 

someone is retreating. if he had the time- if he was someone else, he might have disapparated the moment he saw lord fucking voldemort had his sights set on him. for better or for worse he isn’t, though, and he might as well see this shit through until either camp leaves.

he’s not sure how long the next batch lasts. it feels like quidditch at its worst, like time is suspended and drawn out at once, a million manoeuvres going nowhere, not hoping to win so much as not to lose. he forgets everything of the outside world except the two of them, red against green, so closely knit amongst the chaos that they’re almost locked in a weird dance, pacing each other like animals.

he gets in two good hits. voldemort gets in three. 

the third comes as a direct response to his second, and really he ought to have expected that the man’s ego would respond so violently to successful mockery, but the moment his hex lands on his skin, bubbling comically if painfully under it, voldemort’s eyes flash viciously and james can tell, with the inevitability of watching the quaffle slip through the keeper’s fingers, that he’ll be seconds too slow with his next block, shifts course as best he can so he’ll be ready to heal himself-

he barrels to the floor instead, and sirius yells “motherfucker!” as his body explodes into cuts, blood bursting from him with almost comedic timing.

james manages to shield them on instinct alone, his heart pounding with misplaced adrenaline and pure visceral shock, vision locked on the red seeping from sirius’ body where they’re still half-crumpled in a heap on the floor.

he’s still seeing nothing but red when he twist, half-raises himself, and fires off three curses in such rapid succession that he is almost knocked back over by the intensity of his spells. one of them hits, maybe, based on the lack of response; he whips back around, says “sirius” with extreme conviction and no idea what he’s saying exactly, only that- shit, that-

“vulnera sanentur”, sirius grits out, finally audible, though he must have been saying it before; his voice got lost in the buzzing in james’ ears, or else he was practicing non-verbal magic. he is still bleeding. 

james pulls them both up to their feet mechanistically, shields with one arm, supports with the other, and feels the killing curse ripple through his protective spell as he looks towards voldemort, close now and smiling broadly. his heart is in his throat; for a moment he could kill. 

“enjoying the show?” sirius demands, caustic, unafraid always, even now, and james believes it wholly, because sirius is never afraid of things that could kill him, not like this. “purer blood than yours, tom.”

they are close, and it’s too late to disapparate, james registers distantly; if the fight has turned against them there’s no way out now. but does it matter, really? it’s him, and sirius, against some bully who thinks he’s all that. they have no choice but to give him hell.

voldemort spins two curses their way, and james doesn’t block; james weaves, dragging sirius after him, and sends two right back, grins violently in his direction, ignores the heavy weight of his best friend against him. voldemort doesn’t quite deflect the second in time, and he staggers back, grimacing in distaste, but then sirius is twisting urgently and throwing up a shield and there’s a second mask-less death eater nearby with a recognisably unhinged grin.

“resorting to dirty tricks, bella?” sirius snarls, which explains where he’s been all fight, really, and james just- fucking hell, he hates family reunions with the blacks.

“you’re one to talk about dirty, little sullied cousin,” bellatrix leers, and skips closer to her master, expression going exaggeratedly bashful as she twirls her wand. “my lord, i’m afraid i’ve come to curtail the fun somewhat. many of our ranks have fled before the paltry forces of the order; we are wasting time here.”

“very well,” voldemort says, unruffled, glancing towards the back of the room, where shouting is loudest. “say goodbye to your sweet cousin.”

james knows no small satisfaction in that the end of his sentence is cut short by his having to quickly deflect two hexes, but they get no further; bellatrix is spinning curses in their direction with a manic laugh before he can so much as blink, and it is only sirius’ jerky upwards motion that sends them through the ceiling instead, james following the motion with a blow of his own as he watches voldemort smile, dead eyes taunting.

"look at the state of you,” bellatrix scorns, “and not a scrape on the dark lord.” she too is unafraid, eyes wild and arrogant as their spells collide mid-way. 

“his robes look pretty stupid, though,” james retorts, watches her scowl as sirius snorts into his shoulder, itself devoid of feeling. her responding spell is more convoluted, nearly outpaces his twice before he gets a feel for it and rebounds it elsewhere. not far behind them he can hear voices again, and this time he recognises moody, back-up, safety. he is finding it hard to process through the haze, but he knows they are close to survival, so long as he stays alert.

he knows before he moves that it’ll be too much to fend off. voldemort spins green, bellatrix red, and the brute impact burns through his fading shield; the cruciatus curse skims along his leg as he shoves sirius out of the way, and it buckles, searing pain spasming through his muscles as he automatically barrels a hit back. it hurts so much he can’t think, but he throws his weight onto his functioning leg and yanks sirius behind him, watches bellatrix laugh and spin as their bodies begin to blur into nothingness, watches another two spells course through the air that reflex alone won’t be able to stop, and grits his teeth to shield jerkily even as he sinks downwards.

sirius’ free hand knocks into his, wands in perfect parallel, and the shield burns a brilliant white, parting blows collapsing harmlessly into nothingness. 

a spell hits his leg and he jolts, but the curse has stopped ravaging him; he pauses, turns.

“are you out of your fucking minds?” mad-eye roars, and james blinks, registers the quiet, registers the smoke fading, the handful of prone bodies and the exhausted disbelief on the faces around them. the many faces, he thinks. “have you ever paid attention to a word i tell you? it’s a bloody miracle you’re not both dead!”

“t’be fair, moody, was james’ fault,” sirius slurs, and that more than anything snaps james out of fight-induced focus, makes him twist to his knees to where sirius is now half-sprawled on the floor, pale and still blood-drenched and wildly, dangerously irresponsible. 

“merlin all-mighty, you fucking wanker,” james chokes out, ripping his shirt open to have at his torso, ignoring the convulsions of his leg. sirius shivers, flinches, smirks. his spell sealed many of his cuts, but there’s one jagged wound through his stomach still sputtering wetly, making james’ head spin.

“have some decency, prongs, really-”

“you absolute maniac,” james continues, conjuring dittany from frank longbottom’s bag and smearing it on with a vengeance, his hands shaking like the curse got his arms instead. “you could have just- fucking hell, you could have just shouted, or shielded, you-”

”all right, god,” sirius mutters, grimacing at the sting. “wasn’t fucking- thinking ahead, was i, would a little gratitude be too much to-”

“shut up, the both of you,” moody growls, fury in his hawkish eyes. “the order is moving out of this building. now! if you can’t walk, crawl, and if you can’t crawl, we leave you to die. ‘s what you bloody well deserve, for your antics.”

“could just say you were worried like a normal person,” sirius manages, lost in the irate clanging of wood on tile; he swats james off to drag himself upright, clicks his tongue at his leg. “idiot, what’d you go and get crucio’d for?”

“you,” james begins, suddenly impossibly overwhelmed, and thinks he might kill him, or laugh hysterically, or cry, the latter alarmingly probable, which must show on his face because sirius’ expression registers something like panic.

“prongs?”

“just-” james starts, stops, adrenaline crashing, his hands still fucking shaking. “don’t- don’t do that, don’t throw yourself into the line of fire for me, it-”

“oh, please, like you didn’t stand there and do the same for five minutes after i got a couple of paper-cuts,” sirius retorts, eyes flashing dazedly. “’s what we do, moron, ‘s what i’m here for.”

“no, it’s not,” james says. dumbly, he knows, numbly, and he knows why, actually, understands now that he’s shaking from the aftermath of shock, that when sirius went down he had the brief and violent thought that he’d died, that after his parents nothing seems invulnerable anymore, not even sirius, and he’d not known that until now, no matter how stupid that is. “you’re here to be here, you’re not...”

“oh,” sirius says, noticing his hands, maybe noticing his tone. 

he hasn’t cried once for james’ parents. not at the news, not at the funeral, not in the months since, and james knows it’s because he’s a complicated bastard who somehow thinks he can take the pain unflinchingly for his sake, even though james never asked him to, never wanted him to.

“bastard,” he says, out loud, and tries not to cry, drags himself to his feet, pulls sirius up after him, both of them shaky on their legs. they need to leave the building, and then mad eye’ll see them off, and once they’re home there will be time to heal wounds, wait for the next round.

he is so very tired, all of a sudden.

sirius stills him when they’re both standing, oddly serious now, chews on his lip and then lets go of his hand. james has barely refocused on his face through smudged lenses when he leans to kiss him on the forehead, like james does to him sometimes, like his father did, when they were younger. 

james inhales, sharp, and then starts crying. predictable, really. he’s done a lot of it the last while.

it’s all right, though, probably. they’ll be out of the building soon enough. he can walk and cry at the same time.

sirius ignores it, generously, or maybe just cautiously. when james starts walking he walks so close to him that james can smell him through the blood and dust, which makes him cry harder.

he can’t ask anything of him, is the thing. he can’t ask any of them what he wants, which is that they let him go first. parents aren’t meant to outlive their children; sirius will always die for james as long as there is a james left to die for. all he can do is protect him as best he can, in return, hope that between the two of them they cover all their bases.

he thinks of the shield, bright and powerful and effortless, and smiles wetly, rubs at his glasses. still smudged. his hands haven’t stopped shaking. if they were different he might’ve grabbed sirius’ hand.

they stop outside the doors, near last, and james gets a glimpse of the others- tired, appreciative, sympathetic- until sirius snatches his glasses off him, visibly surrenders some of his pride to lean heavily against him as he cleans them, shoves them back on with unnecessary roughness, just to be annoying. 

moody is saying something, gruffly, and the longbottoms are counting heads, and sirius says: “he’s an ugly fucker, isn’t he?” and james laughs, not shaky at all, ignores the glare moody shoots them and laces their hands together after all, pays no mind to the brief outrage on sirius’ face.

“godric, yeah. d’you reckon he took a bludger to the nose, at some point, or was i imagining the family resemblance with goyle?”

“oh, i think it’s innate,” sirius says, scoffing with unshakeable haughtiness. “looks sort of lizard-like, doesn't he, and we’ve all heard about his dubious parentage..”

“what, mrs riddle fucked a dragon?”

“dragon is generous, prongs, maybe a newt or something.”

“that feels unfair to newts,” james says, seriously, and hums. “limax, maybe. ohh, d’you think that would explain-”

“the robes?” sirius completes, eyes sparkling despite his feverish pallor. “body of a slug underneath. makes sense.”

“potter, black,” moody barks, “if you could spare us the speculation...”

they’ve lifted the mood, at least; he sees alice struggling to restrain a laugh near him as she wipes her brow, smiles winningly at their grumpy commander. 

“sir yes sir.”

tomorrow, if the urge strikes him, he’ll kick sirius in the shin to lower him. today, his leg is shaky, and sirius is the sort of steely he only gets when he’s about to collapse, so he just tugs on his hand, and sirius comes, obedient, brow furrowed in light curiosity. james kisses the side of his face, self-indulgent, squeezes his fingers unforgivingly.

“takeout tonight?”

“as long as it’s not indian again,” sirius replies, easy, and james nods feelingly and doesn’t let go of his hand for long enough that it stops being a lifeline and starts being funny.

#lmv #prompt #anon #qui ecrit #this got long as fuck lol #james #sirius #prongsfoot #feelings! #james' parents.... choices.

[kivaember]

God looking over that ask meme I kinda wanna know them all about Aza

Ask and ye shall receive!

Σ(ﾟДﾟ；): Have they ever sprained or broken their leg before? How about their arm? What was the story behind it?

Aza has, like, broken almost every bone in his body at this point. It’s mostly due to his reckless attitude when it comes to fighting or from dumb shenanigans when he was drunk. 

╰(*´︶`*)╯: Do they appreciate hugs? Would they prefer to give hugs or receive hugs? What kind of hugs do they like to receive and/or give?

Aza is VERY against people intruding on his personal space - especially to give hugs. The only people he tolerates them from can be counted on one hand, and for him to enjoy them, most of the time it has to be something he instigates or clearly wants. He just isn’t a huggy person in general :\

ಠಿ_ಠ: Do they look up or down when they are trying to recollect something?

Down! He tends to scowl and glare at the ground, which always makes people think he’s pissed off about something (he isn’t, he’s just thinking really hard…)

ヽ( ´O｀): What is their body language like when sleepy?

Droopy ears, half-closed eyes, moves very slowly and stretches a lot. Sometimes rubs his eyes a lot. 

(Дﾟ≡ﾟДﾟ): When they are surprised by somebody do they physically jump? Scream?

Aza squeaks or yelps, and his tail fluffs right up as he physically jumps away from what startled him. Sometimes he goes straight for his sword, or he’ll throw his hands up like he’s gonna start getting into a fistfight lol Aza’s first instinct is always to fight whatever scares him

(⸝⸝⸝ ̑ ̑⸝⸝⸝):  Does their face get red after they drink?

He does get a bit flushed yup! 

(„ᵕᴗᵕ„): Does their face turn red when embarrassed? If so, how else do they react when embarrassed? (I.E. Shifting of weight upon foot, etc.)

Aza turns bright red when embarrassed, and he tends to look down at his feet and fidget. Sometimes he’ll pinch or rub behind his ear in a self-soothing gesture, or cover his mouth. 

( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ»: Do they have a sensitive spot/s?

YES. Behind his ears and at the base of his tail are his very sensitive spots - he tends to melt or get really horny if they’re stimulated. Otherwise he’s kind of ticklish on the bottom of his feet?

(〇o〇；): What is their body language like when they are stressed? Do they try and hide the fact that they are stressed? How do they recover from said stress?

It goes two ways, depending on what exactly is stressing him. If he’s anxious!stressed, he’ll always try to keep himself curled in and tucked close. His ears will be flat, his tail will be tucked between his legs, and he will avoid contact with people. Sometimes he might pick at his wrists and accidentally leave scratches on his skin. In this state he tends to go hide up in a tree or lie amongst a flock of sheep or something to chill out. 

If he’s angry stressed, then he bristles. His fur will be fluffed out and his tail will lash about. He will growl or snarl a lot, baring his sharp canines and he will make sharp, cutting gestures with his hand. He’ll look like he’s a split second away from punching someone and in this state he tends to go and hunt monsters or whatever to cool down. 

ಠ-ಠ: Do they like it when people touch their hair?

Only people he trusts. He’s twitchy if people tend to have their hands anywhere near his face or neck in general due to… past experiences. 

(ﾉ≧ڡ≦): Do they like to show affection by physically teasing? (I.E: Shoulder punches, etc.)

Yes! While he’s not a huggy person, he did adopt Bluebird’s style of affection showing, which tends to involve shoulder punches, hip bumping, friendly elbows to the ribs, etc. Quick, physical touches that don’t involve trapping someone between your arms, lol

♪⁽⁽٩( ᐖ )۶⁾⁾ ₍₍٩( ᐛ )۶₎₎♪: How are they like when they dance? Are they stiff? Fluid? A good dancer? Do they prefer to dance with a lot of others, with one other person, or alone?

He’s… horrible. He’s an awful dancer. He’s too ‘stompy’ and he moves far too stiffly. Good footwork when sword fighting, not so much with dancing (he’ll step on your feet).

ง ( ⌓̈ )ง: Are they physically strong when it comes to fights?

He is ridiculously strong! Despite his small size he’s dense with muscle and a pint-sized powerhouse, and it’s easy enough for him to throw even a Roegadyn over his shoulder with little to no issues. 

(´∀｀): Do they laugh when they get nervous?

Depends on what he’s nervous about. If it’s with friends or about a minor/mundane thing, he does get giggly. If it’s with something serious or something that also causes him anxiety, he gets faintly nauseous and quiet.

ಥoಥ: How are they like when they cry? Do they just stream tears nonstop? Does their nose get clogged to the point that it’s hard to breathe? Is it easy for them to speak when they are sobbing? Do they hiccup when they cry?

He has two ways that he cries! His most common is what Bluebird dubs his ‘pretty crying’. It’s silent, he doesn’t smudge his eyeliner, and the only sign that he is crying are tear-tracks on his cheeks and slightly unsteady breathing. This is mostly because growing up he had to master the art of crying unseen and unheard, so it’s an automatic response for him to force it down as much as possible and to hide it as much as possible. Bluebird absolutely hates it. 

When he’s not forcing himself to be quiet, he fucking bawls, like he sounds like he’s gonna hyperventilate levels of sobbing. He has to be pretty fucking upset for this though, where he can’t force himself to be quiet and it all just explodes out of him like a big volcanic explosion of sadness. These massive crying fits always make him feel better though, even if physically he gets a headache, sore eyes and stuffy nose from it. 

 ಸヮಸ: Do they lean back or forward when they laugh hard? Do they snort? Slap their knee? Do that seal-esque clap? Do they often laugh to the point that you can’t hear their laugh anymore?

Aza just fucking cackles. Like straight up howls until he gives himself the hiccups, which end up sounding like kitten-like squeaks :3

「(°ヘ°): How does one calm them down when they are freaking out? Do they prefer physical comfort, or would they rather be left alone?

When Aza freaks out, it’s best he’s given space until he indicates he wants physical contact. Normally he’ll cram himself into a corner, or under something, something that gives him some kind of comfort, and it’s best for a person he trusts just to kind of… not leave him alone, but linger just out of arm’s reach. Ready and waiting to help him when he finally asks for it. He definitely does not want people touching him when he freaks out, because it makes him panic and lash out without thinking. 

⊙.☉: Does their voice get an octave higher when they lie? Does it crack?

Aza put in a lot of ‘ums’ and ‘uhs’ when he’s lying, and he shuffles his feet and scratches at his neck. This is if he’s lying through his teeth, but lying through omission he can do without batting an eyelash. 

( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡): Does having somebody stroke their head make them feel relaxed?

Again, only with people he trusts. If it is someone he trusts, he just purrs at having his head stroked. 

(ꈍᴗꈍ)ε｀*): Do they prefer kisses on the cheek? Forehead? What about neck kisses?

If it’s Aymeric kissing him, he prefers all three! Neck kisses if they’re going to be doing sexy stuff are his favourite, though. 

(-.-): How should one wake them up? Do they get out of bed easily?

Aza tends to try and stay in bed if someone tries waking him up. His sleeping schedule is so fucked up, that most of the time he’s awake by dawn anyways, but if it’s the rare time where he’s still sleeping by dawn? Yeah, no, he’s staying in bed, thank you very much. 

#aza lynel

[lolpri]

i either transfer to another school or i drop out i can't stand this particular school anymore and the education system is so unforgiving. there is no room for shitty mental health and this is probably universal but especially so here ... its unbearable and sometimes im like you know what i just need to push through another year (another 2 years now since im repeating the year) but i cry every morning dragging myself to school and by the time im back i have no more energy left in me and i go straight to bed and its the same thing 5 times in a row and then friday night im like "finally i can fucking breathe" and then sat im mostly ok until i realise the day after tmr would be back to school again and then sunday im an utter mess and its just the same old painful routine and my absenteeism is ridiculous and every time i try accounting for it my teacher questions it in the most accusatory tone like i already dont feel shit enough. and the worst part is i dont have a proper official diagnosis for whatever tf brain slump im in and im too terrified of a confirmation or like having to face the stigma but like fuck it really sucks to be me dont it. like im an optimist which i dont believe myself lol and i have so much gratitude in me like i am thankful for being a part of this universe and being part of the human experience and for the sudden moments of peace and clarity (like on sat my best friend and i just lay down outside the mall for like 3 hours like wow we really be going through shit and for once i felt so invincible and determined) its just for once i wish i got it together. like i wish i mustered the courage to do something drastic and find myself and find something that excites me that makes me feel good about myself and this life that ive been blessed with. i wish i just stopped giving a fuck about people and learn to run my own damn race i wish i could just make art 24/7. my dumb ass doodles my stupid ass art blog keeps me fucking THRIVING thats how im coping and i turn to the notes and the asks and the compliments to feel valid which is okay but not the most secure sense of gratification i guess. all i do is try to escape and dissociate through dumb youtube videos and in my head i have fantasies of a life where im a functioning human with goals and people i trust and a pretty face (which also doesnt matter). sometimes im afraid i daydream too much i might 1 day lose touch of reality and become deranged. this is so fucking long and tumblr presents as the most perfect Vent Space its just perfect which is probably unhealthy bc i need to deal w shit instead of complaining but its the concept of putting your deep seated feelings N thoughts out there on a public platform (even tho no ones gonna read all this shit) while at the same time being fully anonymous or at least disconnected from your real-time self and its so comforing and it feels like im actually getting it out and self reflecting probably not the best coping mechanism but at least im coping. i hope. been in bed all day ate half a pint of ben N jerrys feel like crap but im gonna eat something again blast some sappy lofi tunes clean my room make some art force myself to finish my project and do the best i fucking can every moment from now on

#this is like a new low to me in a while #sorry #long post #p

[hoaryoldbitch]

Unintended (4)

AO3

You can find the other parts by searching the tag #unintended on my page.

This chapter explores the further development of Jon and Sansa's relationship, so it has a bit of everything: Sam, Ghost, feelings!!! and some jealous!Sansa

Jon

"Gilly will be fine," Jon assures Sam. "She knew what she signed up for when she married you."

Sam nods. "She did, I just worry sometimes I'm asking too much of her."

He barks out a laugh. "I'm sure you'd know if she felt that way, Sam. I mean, Gilly's sweet, but..."

He tilts his head, giving his friend a knowing look. Sam grins back in agreement. "She loves you and she's happy for you, and so am I," he adds, raising his pint before finishing it.

He understands Sam's concerns about having his pregnant wife move from Oldtown to King's Landing now he's accepted the position at King's Landing University, but this is what Sam has always dreamed of. And it might be a bit selfish of him, but he's looking forward to having his friend close again. Lately there have been too many days when the only living creature he talked to was Ghost. He hopes that might change though, if he could spend more time with Sansa.

It's as if Sam is reading his thoughts. "So, how are things going with your lady friend?"

He arches an eyebrow. "My lady friend?"

"Your text was very vague," Sam shrugs. "You saw her on Sunday? How did it go?"

His face pulls into a frown. "Well, I think... At least, until... She asked me why I moved to King's Landing and I sort of just blurted out the truth. I don't know what I was thinking. That's definitely not something you tell a girl on a first date, right?"

Sam hesitates. "I guess honesty is good. How did she take it?"

He recalls the way Sansa's eyes teared up and how sincere her voice sounded. "She was sweet and she didn't give me that look. You know the one... But I don't think Sansa's actually able of not being kind? I don't know if that makes sense. She's- She's-"

Jon's eyes fall on his own hands, which are trying to emphasize words he cannot find. Sam is grinning, sipping his wine. "She hasn't had it easy. I think she was ill or something, but she's better now and she's- she's fucking gorgeous."

"What colour hair?"

"Red," he says and Sam's smile falters. Jon holds out his palms. "No! No, no, no! I know what you're thinking, but she's nothing like..."

His voice trails off as he takes in the skeptical look on Sam's face. Good thing I didn't tell him about that first day. Eventually his friend shrugs. "Fine, if you say so. Are you seeing her again?"

"I'm supposed to take her out Saturday afternoon. She told me to surprise her, but I have no idea what to do."

"You're overthinking this," Sam sighs, shaking his head. "If she fancies you, she'll be happy to be spending time with you. Keep it simple."

***

It's Friday and it looks like the weather's going to be lovely tomorrow. Jon decides to text Sansa.

- How's ur day going? Do u like dogs? :-)

She replies within two minutes.

- Fab! :D Yours? I love dogs? :p

Definitely better now, he thinks, before shaking his head, a grin on his face.

- Great! Just checking ;-) Pick u up around 2? Wear comfy shoes...

- Okay, I'm curious... Lol! See you tomorrow :D

Jon taps his fingers on the desk. He hopes Sansa's expectations aren't too high. He's planning to take her to Dragon Gate Park. There are flowers and a pond. There's a market square where all kinds of trinkets are sold and a dog meadow for Ghost. It's a Saturday in the middle of summer, so there will be foodtrucks and street musicians. He thinks she'll like it, but he can't be sure.

***

Jon's ten feet away from the door to Sansa's buiding when his phone buzzes.

- I'll be down in 5. Stay there if you want to avoid the inquisition.

His face twists, half-smirk, half-frown, but he decides to heed her advice. When she emerges from the double doors three minutes later in a lilac sundress, she looks around hesitantly, until her eyes find him, but they quickly settle on Ghost. "Ooooh," she coos, "who's this?"

"His name is Ghost," he tells her, "but I'm warning you, he's a stuck-up bastard. He'll probably ignore you for the first two hours."

She holds out a tentative hand so Ghost can sniff it and to Jon's surprise he does. He presses his muzzle into her hand and lets a grinning Sansa scratch his ear. She giggles when she glances up to see Jon's dumbfounded expression. "Traitor," he mutters, as Sansa loops her arm through his, making his heart stutter. "So, where are we going?"

He offers her a nervous half-smile. "You'll see," he promises and hesitates for a moment. "Who are the inquisition?"

"Oh, my brother and his girlfriend, who is also my best friend", she says, slightly shaking her head. She blinks at his questioning frown. "Trust me, I couldn't let you go in there completely unprepared. I was doing you a favour."

Sansa

Sansa gives Ghost one last firm rub to his upturned belly, before looking up to find Jon staring at her in awe. He shakes his head. "You have him wrapped around your little finger, don't you?"

She ducks her head, chin touching her shoulder, and bites her lip with a cheeky grin, catching herself before she can ask: 'You or the dog?' She closes her eyes and puts her palms flat against the grassy slope they've settled down on. She tilts her head back, enjoying the feeling of the sun's warmth and Jon's eyes on her. She has no idea where this confidence comes from, can't allow herself to believe it's all Jon's doing, but it probably is. It could be the way he looks at her when she's talking and how his smiles light up his solemn face.

Perhaps it's because he seems so determined to ensure she's having a great time, without giving her the impression he's just doing it because he wants to get under her skirt. It might be the fact that he doesn't talk down to her and never ridicules her opinions, even when his expression tells her he disagrees.

He was disappointed she 'forgot' to bring the bucket list. He quipped that she'd given him the perfect excuse to demand a third date, but she couldn't tell him imagining him reading some of the things on that list had embarassed her to the point where her face had resembled an overripe tomato.

She risks a sideway glance, discovering he's inched a little closer, his fingers playing with a daisy not too far from her knee, his eyes on the pond and the people around it. A sudden ghust of wind blows her hair into her face, momentarily blinding and almost gagging her. Spluttering and shaking her head she pushes herself up to pull the strands from her mouth and feels Jon's hand on her collarbone. Her arm moves up of its own accord and her palm makes contact with his cheek.

She gasps as she takes in the splatch of red appearing on his stunned face. "There was a leaf in your... ," he attempts in an incredulous voice. "Jon!" she exclaims. "I'm so, so sorry! You- startled me! I-"

Jon is still staring at her in disbelief and Sansa is lost for words, so she does the most absurd thing she could do. She leans in and presses her lips to his. They are incredibly soft. She pulls back before he's had enough time to recover and respond. A cautious smile flashes across his face, before it shifts back to a confounded expression. He rubs his cheek. "Wow, err, Sansa. You- You're giving me an emotional whiplash."

She hides her face in her hands, peeking at him through her fingers. "I'm sorry, I- it's just..." Suck it up, San. You're going to have to tell him sooner or later. "I had a heart- I had a heart..."

She lets go of her face, taking in Jon's encouraging nods, but at the last moment she chickens out. "I had a heartwarming dream about you!"

He blinks. "A dream? Or a nightmare?"

She shakes her head. "No! No! You were very..."

"Scary?" he suggests. "No, um, sexy!"

His eyes widen and his throat bobs up and down. "You... had a sex dream about me?"

"No!" Well, yes, maybe. Her face must be as red as Jon's ears by now.

She decides to kiss him again, planting her hands on his shoulder, fisting the fabric of his blue shirt. He responds eagerly this time, moving his lips against hers and gently cupping her face in his hands. She parts her lips, flicking her tongue out to demand entry. Softly he sucks her bottom lip into his mouth, before allowing her to lick into it, then mimicking her actions. He tastes of the beer and tortilla crisps he had earlier. Before releasing her, he nips at her lips, then covering them again with his own to soothe the sting.

They part, slightly panting, and Jon caresses her hair as her hands slide down and back up his chest. Ghost chooses that moment to nudge Sansa's shoulder, sending her crashing into Jon, toppling him over and tumbling on top of him. They laugh together when their noses bump.

Jon

Sansa amazes Jon with her quiet strength and relentless optimism. The way she wavers between boldness and shyness confuses him, but he's totally entranced by it. She knows exactly what she wants out of life; it's all on her list. He listens to her explaining how she's planning to get it and he's easily convinced she could take on the entire world without as much as breaking a nail. The very next moment however she glances up at him with those innocent blue eyes before laying her head on his shoulder and he's taken aback by the sweet vulnerability of her gesture.

Jon takes her bowling and she's horrible at it. When he points out she should keep her eyes on the little arrows on the lane instead of the pins and helps her adjust a weird, unnecessary flick of her wrist, she improves quickly though. After she throws her first strike, she jumps into his arms and presses a hard peck to his lips, blushing at her own elatedness.

Sansa takes him to an art gallery and treats him to a passionate lecture about the composition, technique and meaning of the paintings in the exposition. When she realizes she's lost him, she patiently explains it again. He grins and pulls her into his arms to kiss her temple.

***

Jon is leaving his office on a dreary Thursday afternoon and falters when he sees Val leaning against her car, hair in a high ponytail, white leather jacket hanging open and a smirk on her face. This can't be good. If she wanted to discuss a case she could have called or come during office hours. "Snow," she calls out, "care to go for a drink? There's something I'd like to talk about."

He fumbles for his keys, ignoring her while she's making her way over to him. When she's only inches away from him, too close, he pretends to be startled. "Oh, Val! I didn't see you there."

She huffs. "So, how about that drink?"

He grunts absentmindedtly. "Maybe some other time. I have to run now."

She starts talking about some case she's working on. Her sister Dalla reported the possible neglect last winter, when the twins came to school without a coat during the snow storms, but now it seems there's more to it. He's aware that's just a pretext though.

It has been almost a year, but they fucked a couple of times and that's probably what she's after again now. Jon ended it because every time left him feeling more empty afterwards. He simply stopped returning her calls, not even feeling guilty about it, because he knew it meant nothing to her. She's tried to renew their arrangement occasionally though and this is clearly another attempt.

He sighs, searching for a good excuse to get rid of her, not missing the way she keeps touching his arm. He opens his mouth to refuse her suggestion to discuss matters somewhere more comfortable, when he sees Sansa coming around the corner of the street. Fuck, he curses mentally as an uninvited image of Ygritte holding a pluck of brown hair in her hand and with blood under her fingernails flashes through his mind.

He shakes it off and turns his full body to Sansa, smiling and holding his arms open as he calls out her name. She steps into his embrace a bit stiffly, accepting a kiss on her cheek and nodding to Val. "Sansa, this is Inspector Mikaelson."

To his relief the two women are perfectly polite to one another as they exchange a few comments on subjects he fails to pay attention to, but there is an odd twinkle in Val's eyes and Sansa's smile may be a little too bright. After a couple of minutes, he clears his throat. "We should really go now, right San?"

Sansa nods and Val strides back to her car. Sansa disentangles herself from his arms as soon as she's out of sight and starts walking back in the direction she came from. Jon hurries after her. "I wasn't expecting you."

"That was obvious," she answers in a clipped voice. You should keep your fucking mouth shut, Snow. "I wanted to surprise you," she informs him. A couple of minutes pass in silence. She comes to a sudden stop and faces him, eyes squinted into blue slits. "Inspector Mikaelson?"

He blinks and nods. "Aye."

"Please, Jon," she objects, rolling her eyes, "a blind man could see she was all over you."

Honesty is good, Sam's voice echoes inside his head. "It was a long time ago. It meant nothing."

She crosses her arms over her chest, pouting. "It clearly meant something to her!"

He waits for her anger to explode, for her to start screeching or lunge herself at him, but it doesn't happen. She just presses her lips into a thin line, chin quivering. His shoulders relax and he lifts his hands to frame her face and kisses her. She pulls back in surprise. "What was that for?"

He grins at her. "You're adorable when you're jealous."

"I'm not jea-" she starts objecting, but he silences her with another kiss. He sighs and retreats to look her in the eyes. "I don't give a fuck what she wants, Sansa. She can bugger off and go and find it somewhere else. I only want you, sweet girl."

For a minute she refuses to meet his eyes, but then a watery smile graces her lips and she leans into his touch. He wraps his arms around her and holds her close.

#Jon x Sansa #jonsa fic #jon x sansa fanfiction #unintended

[pywooowar]

break down for the magazine

i made a detailed break down of the magazine to send to my illustrator friends as an idea of what i am looking for. although i would like to do a few of the illustrations, i know that i would like a different look and feel for different features so it makes a lot of sense not to limit this to my own style of illustration.

1. The first few pages are an introduction to the community issue, it’ll be an explanation as to how the issue managed to work throughout the virus and having to stay indoors and how communities can thrive despite this, so looking to have a page of illustrations that show how a community can thrive throughout these times 

 2. Bi annual update of what’s happened in the world, the sections are UK news, politics, sports, education, science, business, showbiz  etc haha so like little illustrations maybe i’m not sure for this one?

 3. Cafe in gamlingay for the isolated and lonely, Haven’t got any images of the lady who set this up / the cafe yet but would love a really nice cafe scene with all the little bits in the cafe somehow but doesn’t have to be realistic at all (none of them do) 

 4. an all female over 65 darts group in brixton who meet regularly in either brixton pub or loughborough junction pub and believe the darts community is dying out and they meet and in the break get a box of chips from the chicken shop next door and some have half pints shandy and some have full pints and i have a picture of becky playing the fruit machines and someone else playing so i can send them to you! and what the pub looks like haha 

 5. Community Bridges the group in peckham who run workshops and exercise classes and loads of community activities which are largely free (they’re great) and run a magazine that’s free and really helps people in the local area, it was an interview on the magazine but as it can’t be circulated now they are doing a youtube video so i’m gonna be interviewing them on that lol but they are gonna send me photos too of what they’ve been doing and from their events etc, that’s happening tomorrow! so i can send that after 

 6. Lark Hill retirement village (if you googled it so much would come up!) but it’s a retirement village and the interview would be around community life in this type of living and whether they feel isolated at all and why it’s important to them to be living in this type of community 

 7. Yazmeen and Eleanor (this is irrelevant but thought i’d send anyway, they are at camberwell college and do a lot of lgbtq work for the community so they are gonna submit their own work for this) 

 8. Golden Girls, a group of older ladies i spent time with last year for a different project, they are a knitting group at a daycare centre in bethnal green and are the sweetest and most charismatic women ever i adore them, they do arts and crafts on mondays, bingo on tuesdays and darts on wednesdays and go to the beach often, literally loads of stuff but they knit and donate their earnings or work to maternity wards (all round heroes, would love a few pages of illustrations for this to try and put across how much i love them haha) 

 9. recipes!!! my boyfriends Nan is sending recipes for those who can’t leave the house due to physical or mental drawbacks or worried about doing so alone (eg those who cannot walk on their own or who are scared) which is very relevant now haha, but when these come through would love some work for this! 

 10. books to read!!! quite self explanatory 

 11. my friend liv wrote a beautiful poem about her grandmother i’ll send it over!

 12. Things to do / see 

 13. Old stars and what they are up to now (gonna try find ones who do good work for communities or charities) 

 14. a big thank you to people who helped in the magazine this would be lovely to just have a double page spread of a scene or something i really don’t know though it’s so free range sorry if this is v vague i haven’t done some of the interviews yet and i don’t really know fully myself what i’d like it to look like - id just love people to do their own thing with it! and for space i have however much space people would want so just go wild haha

#FMP

[crypticchanglings]

from london [03.10.19]

i'm currently obsessed with these youtubers: 

j lou - hong konger who posts videos in cantonese/english 

it's fantastic since i'm currently learning cantonese/improving my mandarin and she's so hilarious 

https://www.youtube.com/channel/uc530gkg2oj26figqzayqqow

slice n rice - hilarious (and musically talented!) interracial couple with content different from most vloggers i've seen 

https://www.youtube.com/channel/ucormlwayqudm-ieq49audna

---

i've also been obsessing over some poc artists lately:

jess x snow - been following their account since high school and the quality of animation/murals/music/poetry/everything is so so good

https://www.instagram.com/jessxsnow/

hannah che - i really want to be more plant-based for carbon neutrality and sustainability, and she's super inspirational. she posts a ton of chinese recipes made vegan including adorable vegan mooncakes for 中秋節!!

https://www.instagram.com/hannah__chia/

---

also, it's so hard to consistently write travel logs, so i have immense respect for friends who do keep up regular updates. london is fun (classes start tomorrow wish me luck rippp) and there's so many cool clubs/pubs/bars everywhere. the people here are so friendly and i'm unfortunately a ridiculous lightweight (i'm usually done after half a glass of wine lol) and have to sleep more hours than i've been giving myself. there's also an obsession with halloumi, which i discovered in the heathrow airport on my first day in the city.

i've been sort of keeping up a travel log on instagram, but even that's starting to feel disingenuous and like i need to be constantly posting content. i want to find some happy medium that's not too difficult to keep up to date and that doesn't make me feel like i'm trying too hard to please someone. i'm also thinking of making an ig that's more of an artistic portfolio/journal of some sort anyway. 

---

i visited cork the week before school started and it made me realize just how much of eastern us/nyc culture comes from early irish immigrants. from food staples (corn and peas and potatoes) to pub culture to irish monuments and cathedrals i didn't really notice before to surnames (williams, allen, brown, campbell, etc.) - basically most of the things i used to just associate with being "american". it was mind blowing to see plants i thought only grew inside flower pots out in the wild, rock formations that aren't faked and inside malls, pubs that have genuinely been around for hundreds of years. talk about cultural appropriation. 

i love seeing the different species of birds - the ravens in western cork, the javan mynah in singapore, the nyc pigeon. they all act about the same way you'd expect birds to act, but come from such different backgrounds. 

i also met a model turned dominatrix and a recreational dominatrix at a fantastic pub while drowning in half a pint of beer (literally rip). they had somehow not known this about each other, only previously being work friends, so i'm glad i've now united them on a different front. we talked for a long while about open relationships and what makes people click. 

---

i started pole dancing, and it's really fun! hopefully by the time i return to mit i'll be good enough to practice some routines on the pika pole. it's a shame that boston doesn't have a vibrant pole culture - every london uni has a pole fitness club, there's tons of pole meetups around the city, and so many pole performances and competitions year round. plus there's something addicting about sore arms.

while london isn't super expensive, there's a lot of things that i took for granted at mit that aren't at imperial. laundry is a whopping £3-4, the gym costs £30 for membership, most clubs aren't free (£5-10 for membership), the doors in my hall lock automatically (??), the mail delivery service is a bit of a pain since they're manually recorded, timetables for classes aren't automatically available online nor are classes rated in any way, there are no frats or house parties so students go clubbing instead (and clubs cost £8-15 for big parties), and since parties aren't subsidized, drinks cost £££ too. 

it's kind of hilarious that i'm specifically studying engineering in a place so ripe with poetry, theater, art, film, exhibitions, sculpture, etc. imperial has free lunchtime concerts and art galleries throughout the school, but humanities classes cost £200 a piece. 

also, the assassins guild, caving club, hiking club, and hackerspaces remind me of mit. the other mit exchange student told me they seemed less in-your-face than at mit. i suppose ec/tetazoo is fairly in-your-face about caving/climbing and ec/putz with building stuff so that's a reasonable comparison to make. 

i've always had a contrarian bent against things i saw were mainstream. unfortunately, mainstream was always defined by the people closest to me, so that meant wanting to not be in cs at mit and instead to be part of a smaller major. somehow, the distance has taken away this discomfort and i feel better about my interests. also, i've been able to discover an interest for exploring/climbing outside of the mob mentality, which is refreshing. 

---

i got my first internship offer for the summer (!!), so summer interviews don't feel as stressful. i am still lowkey stressed about iap, since i don't have anything lined up yet rip so winter interviewing must still go on. i feel myself getting a lot better at technical and non-technical interviews, though, so hmu if you have any questions about tech interviewing. 

---

travel plans

amsterdam: 10/4-6

oxford: 10/12

wales (with the caving club!): 10/25-27

edinburgh: 10/15-17

istanbul: 10/22-24

iceland: 10/5-8

athens: 10/8-10

marrakesh: 10/13-16

i so so recommend rome2rio, skyscanner, hostelsworld/booking.com, and student universe for finding dirt cheap flights. all of these flights were about $100 or less (mostly less) although being geographically near so many vastly different cultures is convenient. 

i also now understand douglas adams' obsession with towels - one of the most useful things ever (and prevents you from having to wipe your naked body with old clothes or a bed sheet after being too cheap/forgetting to rent a towel).

---

i've been writing for hackaday since the summer and while most of my writing has been fulfilling assignments, it's humbling to read the readers' comments. i think i've always taken the maker community for granted and i haven't realized the work that people put in to ensure that open source has the integrity that it has today. 

there's constantly talk about whether something feels like an advertisement. i've always been in support of ads on social media and sponsorship since it helps all parties, but i have felt like intentions are faked when there are too many sponsors at a hackathon - or when it feels like sweet talking the sponsors are more important than making a great experience for users. 

i'm not sure if anyone's taking the class by the poetic justice group at the media lab, but i worked with them on the green book project this summer and it completely changed the way i look at race inside and outside of america. i also know there's some complicated feelings about malcolm gladwell, but i appreciate the nuance he uses when discussing the sandra bland case in his latest book - i think it puts to perspective the systemic reasons for police brutality, rather than focusing on individual reasons (which is the reason why juries decide the way they do and why attorneys are able to win cases in favor of police officers in the court. see radiolab mr. graham and the reasonable man for more info.) 

i'm really grateful for garnette - my writing professor last term - for introducing me to gladwell's masterclass. he really understands how to craft writing to be accessible to people and has a really great approach towards being a writer - having a regular low-stress/low-hours job to pay the bills and writing on the side (until you can make a living as a writer or just perpetually writing on the side). ted chiang (author of the book inspiring arrival) did the same thing - studied computer science in college, became a technical writer to free up time and finances to write, eventually freelanced and is now quite good at his craft, so he's also a minor idol career-wise. 

---

that's all for now. just wanted to do a quick update, hope you're all doing well! remember that work isn't the most important thing in the world - drink water, eat vegetables (they feel really good), don't eat too much sugar, take a break, and get sleep! 

[ma-hao-huh]

last post ended with a bit of optimism and excitement, ready to experience Taipei’s night markets for the first time. well, that didn’t go according to plan, because me and the two guys I met all fell asleep at about 6pm. jet lag is real, and it’s a slow burning, creepy-crawly feeling that you don’t have any concept of until you just start sleeping 12-14 hours a day trying to catch up, even if you aren’t sure what you’re trying to catch up to. i do think I'm making progress though.

so that was two nights ago. yesterday was way more successful...me, TJ and Tim got some good Taiwanese breakfast (dumplings, egg scallion pancakes, etc) and checked out the museum of contemporary art (mainly just one exhibit about the interaction of sound with the environment....not unlike what I saw at the hirschorn in January). we found what was definitely the neighborhood noodle spot but it was 12:30 so the line was so, so long and the blazing heat decided for us that no noodles could be so good. at least, they did — I have the rest of the summer to sweat it out for the good stuff. we ended up eating at a curry place which I honestly thought was gross. it was shit brown, not much flavor... not like any curry I've had in the states, so it made me wonder if I've been having real Indian curry, and about the different types of curry there must be throughout SEA. definitely something to look into.

after that we were in desperate need of a cold treat and TJ had an ice cream recommendation that did NOT disappoint. the 3 flavors we chose were taro, plum, and passionfruit (my choice), and they were all excellent, passionfruit definitely being the winner. honestly, the best ice cream I've ever had in my life. if that’s what I eat all summer, American ice cream is just going to be disgusting when I come back. which will probably be a good thing. also, the lady running the store was so sharp as a tack, great English, so nice. she kind of gave me the feeling she would have something great to say if the humans of ny guy wanted to take her picture. ever thought what you would say?

we decided to go back to the hostel after, and then came the first truly sobering moment of the trip for me. Tim wanted to take a taxi, so it fell upon me to ride up front and tell the cabbie where we needed to go. I quickly learned my navigational Chinese is limited. I could tell him which way to turn, how many intersections to keep going straight, but, crucially, not the address we needed to get to. I was kind of getting it done with google map navigation, but I don’t think the poor guy trusted me enough and called someone up to get the address for him. once he knew, he was quite jovial, patted me on the shoulder, appreciating, I guess, my ability to say “turn left” and “yes” and “I don't know.” lol. I'm glad he was nice about it.

I feel like I'm only about halfway done writing which would make this post monstrously long. I'm torn between making these posts digestible or making them a full account of my days. I think in the beginning when everything is so new, i’lll want to know everything I did, so, screw it.

when we did make it back, everyone broke off for a bit. I read for a while, and when I got back to the room, one of the other guys staying there was seemingly coming back to life from a long night (he had shushed for talking at 9am that morning). I greeted him and we got to talking. he’s a character, for sure... I've never met anyone with such a measured way of speaking. if you’ve heard Obama deliver speeches, it’s sort of like that.... slow, deliberate, intentioned, stirring, smooth, powerful. I learned that he dropped out of college in Santa Clara to go to culinary school in Philly and then wound up at a Michelin star restaurant. he retained his privacy on what restaurant and why he isn’t there anymore...that’s his right though. he speaks Chinese and had planned (and packed) for a one-week trip to Taiwan, but now he thinks he’s gonna be here for a couple of months. he told us we were welcome to join him for drinks at a rooftop bar with a gaggle of Swedish girls he had met (through “his ways”) and then to get some BBQ and check out a techno club. if I had been alone, I would have definitely just gone for it. but Tim and TJ and I had planned to go to a night market, so I got Drew’s LINE and told him maybe we’d see him later.

friends told us the most popular night markets would be absolutely bonkers on a Friday night and to try out one of the smaller ones. our hostel is actually a 10 minute walk from one of them, so that worked out. I’m not sure what I expected from the market, but in my opinion it was a straight up country fair, Chinese style. there were little games for the kids to play, including catching your own little fish to take home!!! so cute, and then a straight half-mile of carts with every kind of meat treat roasting on a spit or under a blowtorch. between the three of us, here’s what we ate:

-beef cubes (I didn’t taste)

-seashell filled with caramelized scallop, crab and shrimp meat (this was the most sketchy thing I ate, and I think I felt a little rumble because of it, but nothing too bad. it was pretty good)

-roasted mushrooms (the spices were kind of weird and the texture was soooo rubbery)

-chicken cubes (so tender and delicious)

-sweet potato balls (unlike the insanely sweet and amazing shakori doughnuts, these actually tasted like they came from a sweet potato, but kind of bland)

-oyster pancakes. this was what the fuss was about, there was line of 20 people at all times. NOT worth the hype. I talked to drew about them today and he absolutely agreed, saying they're totally under salted). it’s like oyster meat, eggs, scallions all cooked up together. there wasn’t much flavor and I wasn’t exactly sure if I was supposed to be eating the whole thing or not because there were oyster parts in there that I did NOT like.

overall it was cool to see but all of our choices definitely didn’t knock it out of the park. I'm excited to go to the bigger ones, hopefully with better guidance, and see if I have more luck.

afterwards we grabbed some beers from this tiny little craft brew place with one tap and it was actually a delicious IPA that was half off your second pint. hell yes. there was a Sierra Nevada sticker on the wall too...I guess they’re global?

I wanted to find live music after, but TJ and Tim are lightweights. they were well and truly buzzed after a beer or two. that’s all good... after fading at 6pm the night before, we made it to 9pm that night and I didn’t mind heading to bed.

as far as today...I viewed the apartment I'm gonna be living in. it’s literally 30 seconds from one of the main mrt stations that two of the mrt lines go through. I thought I was gonna be vetted by the people who live there, but i learned today it’s more of a sign up and move in kind of thing. when I walked in, all the girls were looking very sad, about to take one of the people leaving to the airport, so it really couldn’t have been worse timing. I tried to say “hey everyone, I’m grant” and literally just got stares back. that was fun. I haven’t started filling out the final forms to move in because it made me unexcited about the prospect. but I know that it was just bad timing and it will be a lot better for me to live with people who are happy and excited to help me adjust, so I'll deal with it and fill them out tomorrow.

Drew and I made very tenuous plans to go out tonight, but it’s past 9 and he isn’t back from getting dinner a couple of hours ago. hmmm..... see if tonight’s the night for a night on the town....