#someone actually put the math to the test and concluded that

[thatfeelinwhenyou]

KINDRED — 31

It’s your final year of highschool, and your only goal is to graduate top of your cohort, as usual. Except as student council president, your advisor can’t seem to leave you alone. What happens when you take Decelis Academy’s top student, their star athlete and put them in front of a camera?

smau + written (2.0k words)

❥･• episode 31 — the name above me

tw! y/n’s mom

The two-week break flies by rather quickly, and you find yourself back in your school uniform on a Monday morning, realising that nothing has really changed. You had already half-convinced yourself that post-midterm would be different for you, you had hoped for clarity regarding your plans after high school. Alas, uncertainty clings to you like an unwelcome companion.

Walking onto campus, you encounter a throng of students gathered in front of the ranking boards. Right, your results are released today.

Oddly, though, the weight of your grades hasn't been preoccupying your thoughts these past two weeks like it would in the past, marking the first time in your life that you haven't been consumed by overthinking your grades or endlessly reviewing test questions, as if every time you did it you didn’t get the same exact answer.

No, you actually enjoyed your break. You allowed yourself to breathe, to embrace the carefree spirit of a high school teenager.

You went café hopping with Bora and Jungwon again, only this time you ensured a mango juice mishap did not befall you. The Powerpuff girls, including yourself, enjoyed a truly relaxing girl's day where everyone dressed up just for the joy of it. Then there was that unforgettable excursion to the amusement park; you rode the Ferris wheel for the first time as it had been a long-standing prohibition from your mother, citing its unreliability akin to your father's. Though fairly insignificant, you record as it as a ‘win’ in your books.

Before you knew it, your final term at Decelis Academy had already begun. The documentary is in its concluding stages, with tasks remaining on the itinerary, including capturing your and Jungwon's reactions to your grades, the student council's senior farewell party, Jungwon's upcoming competition, and then the final confessional.

Arriving on campus, you initially worry about being way too early but lucky for you, the camera crew had arrived hours in advance and established their vantage point on the left side of the ranking boards—the higher-scoring side. Despite their meticulous preparation, you inadvertently squeeze yourself into a group of students gathered in the middle, unintentionally defying their plans for the perfect front-row view of your reactions from every angle.

Your eyes scan the list.

74 ***

75 ***

76 ***

77 Yang Jungwon

Found it.

You let your fingers glide over the paper, seeking out his Mathematics scores. 105 out of 150. Relief floods through you, a broad smile gracing your face at his passing grade. Not just barely but with a decent score, just enough to pull him up to a C, securing his spot in the competition just 15 days from now. You’re smiling so wide, the joy evident without even knowing how you did for your own papers.

And as if you were sharing the same brain cell, you find Jungwon standing at the front of the board, his expression tense as he gazes at a name at the top. Concern brushes your thoughts, but you manage to conceal it from the cameras as you cheerfully call out, "Wonnie! You passed your Math paper, you’re going to compete in the Asian Championships!"

"I-I’m so sorry, Y/N," he stammers, a heavy silence lingering between you. Reluctantly, you follow his gaze, and there it is.

1 Lee Haerin

2 Park Y/N.

Your name, usually perched at the top, now finding itself below another.

You know Lee Haerin, she’s a familiar face from the book club, and you know this having seen her in the library more times than you could count. And you were there almost every day. You also recognise her name as someone who was consistently ranking below you, but how the tables have turned.

You don’t loathe her; surely, it isn’t her fault that your English Literature scores fell short, causing you to drop in overall rankings. Besides, it's only mid-terms, and you still have your preliminary exams to pull your grades up before the CSAT… Right?

You sense someone settling down beside you on the ledge you've chosen to occupy on the roof. You had chosen to forgo lunch, knowing you can barely keep anything down your throat at the moment. Shifting your gaze from the clusters of shops just outside the school gates, where the popular takoyaki stand beckons memories of post-school visits with your friends, you turn your attention to the person you had already half-expected to be Jungwon.

“You should eat something, even if just a little.” Jungwon places a piece of custard bread, banana milk, and a packet of your favourite gummies on your lap, almost pleading with you to eat.

“You didn’t have to.”

“Not when you look like as if the world is ending tomorrow.” Jungwon jokes, only to cough awkwardly when he realises you didn’t respond to his jokes, even with an eye-roll like you usually would.

“It might as well be. I just know my mother is going to KILL me.” You make sure to emphasise the word ‘kill.’ Because you aren’t wrong; if the world isn’t going to kill you tomorrow, your birth-giver will.

Unbeknownst to you, tears well up in your eyes, threatening to spill over. Witnessing you in such a vulnerable state tugs at Jungwon's heart; the girl he likes is breaking down in front of him and he doesn’t even know what to do. As he battles his inner thoughts, contemplating the best way to console you, he senses you clutching onto the sleeves of his uniform blazer. Pouting and fighting back tears, you say, “I’m going to be okay, right?”

“Yes, crybaby, everything is going to be okay.” You feel him begin to gently stroke your hair down to your neck, rubbing circles into the back of your ears as he makes another crybaby joke in an attempt to cheer you up.

“I’m not a crybaby,” you manage to say between hiccups and sobs, prompting Jungwon to emit a small snicker. The irony strikes you—a few weeks ago, you were in Jay’s garden comforting Jungwon as he held back tears, and now he's here comforting you in your most vulnerable state. The situation doesn’t go unnoticed by Jungwon, as he also recognises the irony of it, judging by the bittersweet way he smiles.

“Just because you fail once, doesn't mean you're gonna fail at everything.” Jungwon holds your cheek and tilts your head to face him, his thumbs swiping away fresh tears staining your cheeks.

“I don’t know… the one thing I’m good at, and I just flunked it-“

“Shh! Believe in yourself because if you don't, then who will? Life’s beautiful, and there's so much more to it than numbers on a piece of paper, Y/N. I hope you see that.”

In that moment, you realise you never really did look at your scores for the papers. Then you realise it wasn’t the scores that had you feeling worthless. Thinking back, you had already forgone looking at your scores a long time ago, as long as you stayed in that number one spot, as long as you didn’t disappoint your mother. You wanted to satisfy her, try to get her to praise you, but as your heartless mother has once said: “Why would I praise something that is supposed to be a given?”

You've spent your entire life routinely studying, evolving yourself into the machine your mother probably wished she had instead of a breathing human child—you.

In the echo of your academic routine, the fear of losing her approval looms larger than the tangible rankings you've held. The relentless pursuit of excellence, though driven by an inner desire for acknowledgment, is entangled in the web of your mother's expectations. So, what scares you isn’t the fact you no longer retained the number one spot; what scares you is disappointing the one person you craved validation from. What were you expecting? Because when the given is taken away from you, will she praise you then?

No. She’ll criticise you, blame your father, blame the documentary, and undoubtedly, she’ll gun after Jungwon. Because nothing is ever really her fault, and you knew sometime along the way that nothing will ever satisfy her, but you still try anyway. You try because you don’t know what else to do other than sticking to the status quo. Until, at least, the documentary featuring Jungwon happened.

What was initially supposed to be a pawn in your masterful plan to build your portfolio for University becomes the very documentary that breaks you out of your shell, as the looming prospect of your mother’s disapproval, like an oppressive cloud, pushes you to strive for success, even when you know it may never be enough for her.

“Eat.” You come back to your senses to find Jungwon has opened the packet of bread and shoved it into your mouth. He then watches you bite into it before he lets go to open the bottle of banana milk, handing them to you between bites of the bread.

Again, Jungwon with his overly friendly gestures that graze the delicate line between friends and something more than that. Jungwon, who once again, manages to empty your mind by babying you and treating you like a princess who needs rescuing. And he was the prince, of course, needless to say.

“You’re confusing me.” The words fly out of your mouth before you even get the chance to rethink

“Doesn’t mean I’m feeding you like a baby that you are actually one.” He teases, and you watch him as he takes a sip out of the banana milk, from the same straw you used. Pushing away the thought that you’ve just indirectly kissed him, you're just glad he didn’t catch onto the intention behind your statement.

“I feel bad that you’re here comforting me, when you should be celebrating having passed a certain Math paper after all that hard work.”

“It was your hard work as much as it was mine, Y/N.” Jungwon takes his thumb, wiping at the corner of your lips where custard from the bread had oozed out and stayed. He then brings it up to his own lips, eating it off his finger. You just indirectly kissed him, again.

Your heartbeat quickens, a symphony of excitement drowning out any lingering worries about exams or your mother. Your mind is a canvas painted with thoughts of Jungwon and his unexpected gestures that got you contemplating the possibility of him being interested in you. Surely, Yang Jungwon isn’t known for being a romantic guy, but once again, you're proven wrong; he is that guy.

This certainty solidifies as he opens the packet of gummies, deliberately picking out the red-coloured ones first, knowing that you ate them in the colour of the rainbow; a subtle detail that shows he pays attention to your preferences.

At first, they were really subtle gestures that made you realise how horribly you have misjudged him. Then came the heartfelt actions, revealing a caring side that made you question if he had always been this way. The tipping point was realising these gestures were exclusively reserved for you, unveiling sides of Jungwon that remained hidden from everyone else. While others perceived him as mundane, cold, and mysterious, you alone saw a different Yang Jungwon.

And when you see the scoreboard, someone else’s name above yours for the very first time, it shocks you to the core that you, in fact, did not care. That the first thing you sought was Jungwon’s rankings on the board, eager to know if your efforts in tutoring him paid off, if he can participate in the competition that has become crucial to him and, by extension, vital to you.

For the first time, someone else's grades mattered more than your own. This epiphany stretches beyond academic priorities, signifying that Jungwon holds a place in your life beyond the confines of friendship; that he is more than just a friend that you make him out to be.

You like him, more than you let yourself on.

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♡。·˚˚· ·˚˚·。♡

authors note: i kept my promise yall 😁😁🤟 and yes yn mom needs a whole ass tw. i’d say we are a good 10 chapters away from the finale and i’m currently considering next projects but we’ll see 👀 also do expect more written chapters, i rlly tried to reduce them as much as possible but it’s so hard to write without going into detail… BUT i’ll defo make it up with super fluffy and sweet chapters 🤭

perm taglist. @hajimelvr @s00buwu @urmomssneakylink @grayscorner @bubblytaetae @mrchweeee @artstaeh @sleeping-demons @yuviqik @junsflow

taglist open! @uuzhanggggggg @jayhoonvroom @missingemobeomgyu @jiawji @ocyeanicc @s7noo @asterizee @nwjws @noascats @yunwonie @saturnmooonxx @enhaz1 @jiaant11 @clairecottenheart @i2lain @miumiuoi @zhounauts @hoey2k @neocockthotology @nanuer @yenqa @ahnneyong @chanhee-hee @yanqiiuver @yujmelon @beomsbeanie @sloobydooburmomjungwon @keiisu @jaeyunniesimp @jiamini @jihanniee @lilriswife4life

#waiting for the yn mom hate comments #enhypen #heeseung #jungwon #sunghoon #belift #hybe #jay #iland #sunoo #enhypen fluff #jake #niki #riki #enhypen smau #enhypen social media au #enhypen crack #enhypen angst #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #yang jungwon smau #jungwon smau #yang jungwon #jungwon x reader #yang jungwon x reader #enha smau #high school au #tfwy kindred #tfwy smau

[owletwriter]

Welcome to Hawkins

CHAPTER 6

Summary: Stranger Things and The Upside Down, they're both fictional, right? But what if it wasn't? What if somehow, someone comes across a gate and ends up in not only the 80s...but in Hawkins?

Slow-burn Eddie x Reader / Eddie x OC, Robin x Friendship!Reader

Disclaimer: Don't own the rights to any characters except the ones I created for this story.

Hope you enjoy!

CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 5 | CHAPTER 7 | CHAPTER 8 | CHAPTER 9

------------------------------

It's been about over a week since it was concluded that there was no gate present at Hawkins High. During that time, Steve, Robin and Dustin informed the rest of the group about the situation, even contacting those who moved to California. After some brainstorming, we wound up at the same conclusion, there's nothing that could be done without a gate present.

There was even a discussion if Eleven could open one, but she doesn't have her abilities anymore and even if she did, it's not worth the risk for what might happen opening a gate. Nancy suggested getting in touch with Dr. Owens, but no one knows how to contact him since he apparently went off the grid. As of right now, I'm stuck in the 80s and until something organically happens, this is my new life.

Other than that, every day life has been normal. School, for the most part, has been lackluster. I've been lucky enough to not accidentally bump into the metalhead again. In Pre-Calculous, he skipped a few times and when he does show up, I've been making sure to be in class early, so I can keep my head down looking busy. I feel ridiculous and immature doing it, but I can't help it.

Currently, I've been trying to find someplace to move. Robin has been nothing but generous to me, even getting me a job at "Family Video" and lending me some cash to buy some clothing of my own. However, I think I've overstayed my welcome and even though she's told me it's completely fine, I feel guilty about it. Plus, her mom will get suspicious if I stay for more than the allotted time we said I'd be here.

"You really don't have to leave, you know?" Robin tells me with a sympathetic look as we get ready for school.

I shake my head replying, "Seriously, it's fine, Robin. I'll need to find a place eventually, might as well start now." Robin observes me as I shove my books into my bag and then puts her hand on my shoulder to make me turn around.

Examining my face with slight worry in her expression she asks, "Hey…are you okay?"

Giving her a convincing smile I say, "Yeah, I'm good. I'm just a little worried about my Pre-Calc test today."

"You'll definitely ace it. You're actually some type of savant when it comes to math." She jokes lightly shoving my shoulder earning a chuckle from me. It's then the routine of breakfast, Steve picking us up, and listening to the debate of the day between the two of them while heading to the high school. Today's argument is about what the best sci-fi movie is.

"Hello? It's clearly Back to the Future! Right, Kate?" Robin claims while asking me for backup.

Steve immediately shakes his head, "No way! You only think that because it's popular right now, but Dune is classic and will continue to be one." Steve says rejecting Robin's stance.

"Nope, mine is the superior one. What other movie would take the risk and show a mom wanting to bang her son? Plus, it's going to have a sequel. You only get a sequel if it's awesome." She counters his stance with a smirk.

"Mhm, yeah sure, if you're into that." He tells Robin jokingly judging her which results in her lightly shoving him and he then exclaims, "And hey that's cheating because you had future insight!" He comes up with an idea and says, "Here's an easy way to know which one is better..." Steve addresses me glancing towards the back seat, "Kate, which movie do people know about in the future?"

Robin scoffs, "Now who's the one cheating and you know Kate won't tell us, right?"

I notice a lull in their debate and realize they're waiting for me to say something, "Oh uh, yeah! Sorry can't tell you."

I then continue to gaze out the window and I can here Steve whisper to Robin, "What's with her?" I don't hear a response so I assume Robin just gave him a gesture. We arrive at the school and Steve waves a goodbye as the two of us walk away. Robin and I agree to meet at her locker this time for lunch, and then we split off to our schedules.

Again, I make sure to get to Ms. O'Donnell's class early and instead of pretending to be busy, I actually review the material before the test. Right after the bell rings, I feel the familiar presence of the metalhead passing by me and the usual bundle of nerves come, but I've been getting used to the sensation.

The test is handed out and stare at it before writing my name and the date. The 18th. Let's hope this day just goes by fast. I think as I scan the test first and then begin. It goes smoothly for me solving the problems and with the last few minutes of the class I check for any mistakes. For the rest of the classes, I go through the same motions and space out a little more than usually do.

By the time lunch rolls around, the first question out of Robin's mouth when we sit down to eat is, "How did the test go?"

"It went pretty well. I was able to answer all the problems easily." I answer while chewing after taking a bite of my peanut butter and jelly sandwich. 

When I hear no reply I glance up to see Robin inspecting me again, then asks, "Seriously, what is going on with you?"

"What do you mean?" I ask her back a little taken aback by the question.

"You've been pretty quiet and just seem, I don't know…a bit sad?" Robin explains it the best way she can to me. "Did something happen with you-know-who? Like something embarrassing?" She assumes speaking quietly knowing I don't want it to be overheard.

"No, no! Nothing like that." I respond shaking my head and add, "I just didn't really sleep that well, so I've been feeling like a zombie all day."

Relaxing, she chuckles, "Oh yeah, I definitely know that feeling." After a bit more casual conversation, the bell rings and it's time for our History class. Looking down at my tray, Robin points down at the untouched cupcake commenting, "You didn't get to eat your cupcake."

I grab it while putting the tray back where it needs to be and say, "Ah well, I'll just save it for later." We walk over to my locker so I can put it inside while I also snatch the books I need.

It's difficult to stay focused during the class when it starts and during the whole lesson I notice Robin taking glances over at me probably still concerned. Even though it's painstakingly trudging along, the lesson eventually concludes and I stretch out my limbs before standing from my desk.

Before we part for our last class, Robin asserts, "Meet me at my locker again when your class finishes." Without questioning it, I just agree and then she turns to exit the room for her next class.

As I get the textbook for the final subject, I stare at the cupcake sitting in my locker. Screw it. I think as I shove the book back in it's spot, grab the cupcake, and close my locker making my way towards the back of the school. I exit through the back door, scan around to see if anyone is in the vicinity and take a seat on the steps near the top.

Staring down at the delectable treat in my hand, as my mind wanders. I hope Sarah is okay. I don't know how long it's been since I've been gone. I'm unsure if time works the same here versus there. It could be ten minutes or ten years. It doesn't matter I guess because it's not like I'm going back. I won't be able to see my friends, my parents, or brother again. I thought I would be spending today with Sarah. We'd probably go to our usual karaoke spot and then get some ramen from our favorite Japanese restaurant in the city. My eyes start to shed a few tears thinking about my life back during the present day. The door from behind me suddenly opens causing me to spin around to see who it is. It's the last person who I would want seeing me like this in my current state, Eddie.

"Oh sorry, I didn't know anyone else would be here." He quickly says about to turn around until he recognizes me and teases, "I didn’t think you'd be the type to skip."

I clear my throat and look down trying to hide my face with my hair while responding , "I-I…usually don't."

"Well, there's a first time for everything." He chuckles a little, but then he gets a good look at me pausing to ask, "You okay?"

"Y-Yeah, I'm fine." I reply not wanting to deal with him and so I turn my back to him wiping my eyes. I don't hear anything for a moment, but then there's footsteps coming towards me. From the corner of my eye, I see him take a seat next to me a couple of inches away to give me my space.

After a few more seconds of silence, he speaks up nonchalantly, "You know…I didn't think my reputation was that well known that even the new girl from New York knew who I was on her first day here."

"What?" I ask turning my head to him confused.

He smirks at me and says, "You called out my name without me ever properly introducing myself."

It takes a moment to think back to that day and when it clicks, I'm embarrassed by my slipup muttering, "Oh."

"It's cool though. I bet you heard some interesting facts about me." Eddie teases looking forward playing with his rings, but I can hear a hint of annoyance in his tone. Should I risk saying more than I know? I contemplate to myself.

Taking a breath and staring down at my cupcake in my hands, I tell him in a quiet voice, "Um…just that you play D&D and like metal."

"So you don't think of them as…" Eddie starts to say and then puts on a fake newscaster voice, "…satanic rituals."

I can't help but chuckle at his impression and reply, "I-I don't believe in that. My brother plays it…with his friends sometimes a-and he likes that music too."

From the corner of my eye, I watch him face me and asks, "Really now?" I just nod and in response he just says, "Good to know." There's another moment of silence before he speaks up again, "You might not want to squeeze that cupcake any tighter." Without realizing, the treat was slowly emerging from it's wrapper and I relax my grip sighing. "Want to tell me what's up?" The metalhead asks me, but then adds, "You don't have to if you don't-"

"It's my birthday." I interrupt him giving in after I contemplated whether to say something or not.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't that usually a happy occasion?" He questions now curious as to why I'm acting somber.

"Y-Yeah…but…I…I'm not able to be with my family and friends…and no one here knows. So…" I tell him trailing off getting a little teary-eyed again.

"Party of one." Eddie finishes my sentence and I nod agreeing with him. Suddenly, Eddie stands up and I look over to see him searching his pockets. He pulls out a small piece of paper and then sits back down. I watch him carefully roll the paper, his tongue sticking out a little in concentration. Once done, he proudly holds up the stick of paper exclaiming, "A-ha!" I'm completely confused and Eddie notices, so he then leans over towards my direction which surprises me causing my heart to race faster than it already has been. I follow where Eddie's hand goes, and he sticks his creation on the top of the chocolate frosted dessert in the center. Quickly after, he fishes out from his pocket a lighter, flicks it on, and lights the tip of the paper. "Tah-dah." He says in a sing-song voice and explains, "Can't have a birthday without blowing out a candle."

I just stare at him smiling at me shocked and try to say something, "I-I…y-you…"

He gestures with his eyes and head towards the cupcake stating, "Uh...you should blow on it before it goes out. I don't think I have another piece of paper on me for a redo." As I hold the cupcake up higher to my face he adds, "Make a wish." Closing my eyes, I take a moment to think of what I want to wish for. I wish… I then blow out the flame on the makeshift candle and hear clapping. "Woo!" He shouts and I laugh at his silliness. Once the metalhead is done applauding, he finishes off the celebration grinning and says bowing his head, "Happy Birthday…M'lady." I feel like my heart skipped a beat in that moment.

"Th-Thanks, Eddie." I tell him and to show how grateful I am, I split the cupcake, then hand him half of it. We both devour our halves in a few bites while sitting in silence looking out at the field. The sound of the bell tolls indicating the end of the school day and we stand up from our spot. It's then that I remember our height difference when I view his tall stature. While walking to the door that the two of us came out of, Eddie jogs over to open it for me.

Once I reach him, he stops me before I go through the door to say, "Uh…I know it wasn't really how you imagined celebrating your birthday, but I hope that it was…something for you and that it helped a little."

Quickly studying his face, I can tell he really means it and I smile reassuring him, "It did. I…I really appreciate it."

We both enter the school again and before we part ways, he says, "I'll see you tomorrow in Ms. O'Donnell's."

I nod my head replying with a simple, "Okay." I turn walking away first, but I get the urge to look back, so I do. It's then I see Eddie still there watching me with a smirk and does a small salute when he notices that I turned around. I'm startled by it and spin back continuing to move forward. Robin's locker is close, so I head over to her with a bit of pep in my step. She's there gathering her things and once she spots me, her face goes from a casual smile to bewilderment.

"Alright…something definitely happened." Robin announces as I lean on the locker next to her and she goes on to make her observation, "This whole day you've been kind of moody and now suddenly you have a smile that looks permanently etched on your face. Spill it."

I sigh and feel a sense of guilt when I first start explaining, "So, I didn't tell you this earlier because I felt weird bringing it up, but…today's my birthday."

Robin's mouth immediately hangs agape and then shouts, "Oh my god! You should've told me!" Before I can reply, she then realizes something and continues, "I'm such an idiot! I saw your birthday on your ID and I totally forgot!"

 "I didn't expect you to remember after just glancing at it. It's totally fine, Robin." I tell her trying to comfort and calm down her slight frantic state.

"No it's not." She declares while slamming her locker shut and then says now pushing me down the hall, "I'm going to make Steve cover for us at work and we're going out to celebrate." Before I can even try to refuse, Robin answers, "Nope, not taking no for an answer."

We arrive at my locker so I can grab my things and while doing so, I finally speak up, "You don't have to feel completely bad about it because…I kind of…already had a mini…party?"

Taking hold of my shoulders, she spins me now curious questioning me with the tiny bit a jealousy in her voice, "With who?"

Now feeling embarrassment from the situation, I ramble, "I mean, it wasn't planned. I decided to skip last period and went out back with my cupcake to sit on the stairs. I was going to just kind of wallow in silence while shoving the dessert in my face, but then he interrupted me before I did that. He noticed I was upset, I told him it was my birthday and then he preceded to make me a candle. It was actually impressive thinking on the spot using a piece of paper and his lighter. I blew it out and then to show my thanks, I split the cupcake with him so we could both eat it. The bell rang, we part ways and before we did he said he'll see me tomorrow in Ms. O'Donnell's class. It's really not a big deal when you think about it."

"Ms. O'Donnell's cla-" Robin begins to say confused until a light bulb went off in her head realizing who I'm talking about and exclaims shaking my shoulders, "Holy shit! You were with Eddie!?"

I slap her hands off me shushing her and whisper, "Yes!" I close my locker and now talk at a normal volume, "Like I said it's not a big deal."

"Not a big deal!? This is huge!" She says still a little louder than I would like and then tells me, "He went out of his way to make you a candle for your birthday."

Raising my eyebrow at her while making our way to the exit I state, "It was just a piece of paper."

"Yeah, but it's not about the paper, it's what he did that means something." Robin replies and as we stand outside now waiting for Steve to pick us up she faces me to note, "He wanted to cheer you up and did. Plus, if it meant something to you, it's not just nothing." Before I can respond, we see Steve's car pulling up to us. "So, I'm thinking we first go to the arcade. After that, we'll stop by to visit Steve at work when he's done with his shift to grab a whole bunch of movies and we'll then all go back to my home to have ourselves a marathon." She tells me laying out her plan.

I chuckle amused by her schedule, "You can't forget the pizza and ice cream."

"Oh there's no way we can have a marathon without them." She comments like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "So, ready to have some fun?"

I smirk gesturing to a clueless Steve watching us and say, "Lead the way, Buckley."

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Taglist!

@edenstarkk @fentyreligion @maicclg @bellegirl16 @sadbitchfangirl  @preciousbabypeter @secretsicanthideanymore  @bookworm0492

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x reader #eddie x oc #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things #steve harrington #robin buckley #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #st fic #st4 fic

[solaeria-arch]

every time I rewatch knb I feel the need to come remind everyone that Shutoku and Yosen were robbed! ! 🗣🗣🗣 Midorin and Mukkun were robbed, burglarised, absolutely ripped off 🗣🗣 they should’ve won every game they played 🗣🗣

#☼ . 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐞 . ooc . #they were the strongest players and team and they lost ??????? to seirin ??????? to SEIRIN ???? of all teams???? #blasphemy absolute heresy we do not accept that in this house #someone actually put the math to the test and concluded that #Yosen and Shutoku are the strongest teams #and Mukkun and Midorin the strongest players #which I mean I knew already but like wow they were so robbed

[waywardsummoner46]

Five Years Can Change a Person

Summary: Five years ago, your life changed forever. Five years ago, your house burnt down and with it... your family. No matter how over-bearing your brothers were, you loved them nevertheless and their loss affected you insanely. Now content with your new family though, seemingly moved past the past, the ghosts of your brothers walk into the bar. How are they alive? How is that possible? You tried to wrap your head around it but are they the same as they were?

Word count: 2643

A/N: Hello! I am so sorry for my inactivity. I can’t say it won’t continue but I’m definitely out of my writing block. I’m currently working on the next part for Welcome Home, Sister, a Paul Atreides x Reader fanfic and a character list to help you guys get a feel on who I write for. As always, I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think :)

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As a sixteen year old living independently in Lebanon, you sometimes struggled to make it through the day. 

  It’d been this way for five years but you never like to dwell on the past. After the incident, you’d been a lone wolf and even though it came with the weight of Hell to carry, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Take today for example, you’d been to school and had a maths test. Somehow, you’d had full marks so you’d been proud of yourself but this one kid in your class was having none of it.

  You’d heard of pick me girls before and she was no different. When your teacher had given you your test back, you’d sat there in shock just staring at it incredulously. She obviously noticed this, but misinterpreted this as you having a shit score.

  So she sauntered over to you, fully prepared to degrade you in front of the entire class but when she noticed your actual score the emotions that filtered across her face were nearly enough to render you hysterical.

  She’d blinked fervently at your paper, before turning and lifting a hand up to the teacher. “Um, sir? I think you marked her test wrong.”

 The teacher paused in his stride and blinked blearily at her. “Melissa, (Y/N) had full marks fair and square, you, however, did not. So get back to your seat and be quiet.” You loved your maths teacher.

  Melissa was having none of it though. She huffed like a petulant child, “Yeah, but there’s no way that she got better marks than me. Like there’s actually no way.” She kept listing the reasons why you were destined to be beneath her until she realised he’d stopped paying attention to her, along with the rest of the class.

  She sat on your desk and leant down to your face. You raised a brow and quirked your head sarcastically. 

  “This isn’t over, bitch. Don’t think for even a second you are better than me. Beat me in another test, and I'll humiliate you so much, you’ll have to leave the school out of embarrassment.”

  This was something you heard everyday but you ignored her and chose to focus back on your test. Flipping through each page you briefly glanced over how the teacher marked it.

  You were about to shut the test completely, but you noticed someone had scribbled something on the side of your page. You knew it wasn’t you because it wasn’t your pen colour, either way you concluded that it was probably your teacher or Melissa that put it there. It was insignificant anyway.

  After that entire fiasco, you’d left school and walked for an hour before you reached where you work: Harvelle’s Roadhouse. It was a bar run by Ellen Harvelle and her daughter Jo. You got along amazingly with both of them as they were the closest thing to a family you had and you cherished them with everything you had.

  Most of the time, you refused to think about life before you were eleven but soon it would be the anniversary of the Harvelles and Ellen’s husband Bobby taking you in off of the streets so in a way, you were obligated to at least consider getting a card or getting some cake or something. Reluctantly though.

  Whilst they’d never pried further about your situation since the night they found your smaller self, crying and aimlessly wandering on the streets of Lebanon, you knew that every year their curiosity became harder to contain but still they resisted. 

  The bar was quite out of the way actually, it was found on one of the roads near the motorway but not obvious enough that it was overpopulated. It was pleasant. 

  Admittedly, it was quite run down but you preferred the more homey feeling it gave off.

  As you approached the bar, you took the time to study the sign. At night it glowed and made the building look ethereal. 

  You’d always been fond of how it resembled Ellen and Jo’s personality in a way. The font and the way it was built was unique and strong as hell, similar to the Harvelles

  Blinking out of your odd thoughts, you gazed towards the open door and noticed Jo leaning against the frame drying a glass with a towel. “You alright, (Y/N)?” she nodded to you.

  A fond smile made its way to your face and you increased your speed then engulfed her into a hug and squeezed.

  “Yeah, I’m alright. You and Ellen okay?”

 She wrapped her arms around you as she maneuvered which hand was holding what, sensing you needed comfort. “We’re both fine. You’re the one who seems off,” she said and let you go.

 You brushed her off and entered the bar, Jo following behind you. “I’m good, seriously. I got full marks on the maths test!”

  “Well, I’m glad. You revised damn well hard for that too,” Bobby suddenly appeared from behind the bar. Your grin widened and you ran at him and engulfed him in a tight hug. “Hiya, sweetheart.”

 “Hi Bobby.”

 Ellen came up from behind you then and joined the hug. “Don’t I get a hug too?”

  You leaned your head back against her and sighed happily. You saw Ellen and Bobby as either your substitute parents or grandparents, honestly it depends on the situation. Jo, you undoubtedly saw as your older sister, there was no debate about that.

  “Course you do.” You all broke it off and after some quick exchanged pleasantries, you got changed and went to start working on calculating the profits. Numbers just don’t seem to want to give you a break today.

___________________________________________________________

Five years ago…

In your family, there was you, John, Sam and Dean. John was your father but you’d always held disdain towards the man (always being since you were six) but Sam and Dean worshipped the man.

  Sam argued with John on occasion but was overall very obedient. Dean though, was basically mindless, John’s perfect soldier and this grated you endlessly, but you said nothing for years.

  Dean was twenty years older than you and Sam was sixteen years older, nevertheless they were both severely over-protective of you. They could be quite scary sometimes actually, so you learnt early on to suit their standards albeit begrudgingly. 

   John Winchester was a very powerful man. You didn’t realise the extent until that fateful day.

  He’d brought Crowley, an equally powerful man over to your family home that your dad had rebuilt after your mother died in the house fire ten years ago. Crowley had always seemed interested in you and seemingly despised your brothers, this put both of your brothers on high alert.

  When the doorbell rang signifying Crowley’s arrival, Sam and Dean’s gaze turned murderous. You were all sitting at the table, and you were enjoying your cereal when your brothers grabbed a shoulder each and hoisted you up into the air. 

 You squeaked out a protest. “Hey! Lemme go!” Dean took hold of your entire body and pressed you tightly to his chest. “Dean, I’m eleven. I’m not a kid anymore!”

  He ignored you and carried you up to your room with Sam following closely behind. You thrashed and twisted violently in his arms but he was having none of it and tightened his grip on you.

  “Dean, get off of me!”

  When you reached your bedroom door, Sam went ahead and kicked it open. Dean walked in and dropped you on your bed leaving you scrambling to compose yourself. ”Come on, did you have to?”

  He squatted down to your level and had a pitying look on his face. Extending his arm, he began brushing your cheek with his thumb.

  “You don’t understand at the moment sweetheart, you’re still too young, but that man is dangerous and Dad needs me and Sammy to be there with him and for you to be safe,” he chided as though you were an infant. You didn’t give him a verbal response however your mood was accurately represented on your sour facial expression..

  He upped and went to leave but waited for Sam who was lingering. 

  “We’ll only be half an hour, (Y/N). Read the book I bought you for Christmas if you want.” Then he, too, went and left you in your displeasure.

  They shut the door softly but the evident sound of the over-sized lock they’d installed outside of it shook you to your core. Yeah, your brothers were definitely over protective.

  Begrudgingly, you reached for the book Sam bought you that you’d chucked on your bedside table and started reading the back. 

  You began reading it and leant back against your bed but grew bored after the second sentence. So ultimately, you huffed loudly as if something entertaining might unravel… but your wall remained dull.

  Then you started hearing voices. It was quiet at first but grew quite loud. 

  You heard your dad shout, “You are not having my daughter, Crowley! This is non-negotiable.” Wait a minute, were they talking about you? This can’t be good.

 A faint mumbling was heard before a gun was unmistakably loaded and you gulped loudly. Glancing towards the picture on your wall, knowing what you’d have to do should things escalate.

  And by the sounds of it, they were. One gun shot rang through the silence, followed by another then fifty more.

  Apparently Crowley had brought his entire gang, probably predicting your father’s refusal to his ridiculous deal but his stubborn attitude was having none of it.

 “Get your sister, now! Benny, Garth, you're with me!”

  You heard two sets of footsteps sprinting up the stairs and your door was ripped open. Your brothers stood in the doorway and just froze. Their mouths open and eyes wide, before they dropped to the floor.

  Out stepped Crowley, draped in an expensive looking suit with a broad smirk on his face. “Hello, (Y/N).”

  You gulped and looked at him in fear. Calculating where the picture was behind you, you began to back away, discreetly edging towards it. Crowley seemed to relish in your terror and his eyes seemed to sparkle with something akin to malice.

 He took a step forward, narrowly missing Sam’s head. Taking two steps backwards, you felt how close the wall was.

  “You know, I would’ve thought you’d have been happier to see me, darling!” he exclaimed. “Moose and Squirrel certainly were not very happy, but when have you ever been similar to them?”

  You squinted at him. The difference between you and your brothers was a sore subject for you. Being treated like a delicate antique compared to how rough and trusted your brothers were, grated you endlessly. Crowley, being the manipulative cow he was, had taken notice of this and understood that if he played his cards correctly then many things could work out in his favour.

  You took another step back and pressed up against the wall. Edging your fingers behind you, you slipped them underneath it and grasped your gun. Fingers shaking you pulled it out.

  “The only thing I’ll be happy about is when you’re dead, Crowley.”

  You aimed, and shot. His eyes widened momentarily and pure fear crossed his face before he fell to the floor, grunting in agony.

  There was still commotion downstairs but it didn’t seem as though any of your family had died. Prioritising your brothers, you rushed towards them and knelt down to them on the carpet.

  You pushed your fingers up under their necks and checked for a pulse.

  They were faint, but definitely present and you heaved a choked sob of relief. 

  Sam stirred then and glinted up at you before his eyes widened. He sat up abruptly, ignoring the throbbing headache he had and grasped your shirt tightly. “You need to leave! He’s rigged a bomb, the house will blow up.”   Staring at him incredulously, you said, “Sam, what? Crowley’s dead! I shot him! He’s gone! He can’t have placed a bomb before entering the house, we’ve all been here!”

  He shook his head and drew your foreheads together.

  “(Y/N), you need to leave. Jump out of your window and climb down the ivy and run as fast as you can, anywhere away from here.” He pushed you with all his might back into your room. He stood up and towered over your quivering form on the floor. “I love you, Dean loves you. We’ll see you again, just don’t forget us.” 

  He faced Dean and slapped him. Dean woke up sputtering. Once he’d calmed down, hee faced Sam and seeing the look in Sam’s eyes, he understood what needed to be done. Tilting his head slightly, he saw you looking on with horror and mouthed “I love you.”

  Then they were both up and reloading their guns before storming back down the stairs.

  You sat there for about five seconds before you determinedly went to follow them but arms wrapped around your waist. “Come on, sugar. Let’s get out of here”

  Gabriel tightened his hold on you and held a rag up to your nose. “Sh, sh. I know, sweetheart. I’m so sorry but this is the only way.”

 Panicking did nothing to help you, but your frantic breaths seemed to draw more chloroform into your lungs and you inevitably found yourself becoming more drowsy before everything went black.

_______________________________________

   Waking up, you noticed how your head was on Gabriel's shoulder. Then you noticed how the air smelt of smoke and you wrinkled your nose at it.

  Raising your head, you glanced around briefly before your eyes landed on a massive burning building in the distance. Flames danced in the distance and smoke swirled in the sky.

  You recognised it as your house and began screaming and thrashing in Gabriel’s arms.

  He tried to sooth you, but even he knew how vain that was. He swallowed his tears and became determined to hunt Crowley’s remaining gang until his dying days. He knew what he had to do.

  If that meant abandoning you on the streets as he did it, then so be it. In the Winchester name, Gabriel had a vengeance and pledged to protect you from afar for the remainder of his days.

  He kissed your cheek and tried to ignore the tears rapidly falling down your cheek. “It’s alright, sh, sh. Let it all out, (Y/N). There we go.”

  Bawling into his shoulder you continued to struggle until your exhausted limbs refused to move and then you were forced into a restless slumber. 

  Gabe continued to walk until he came across Harvelle’s Roadhouse, knowing exactly who ran it and what help they’d willingly give. 

  He knocked the door and wordlessly answered Ellen’s question by handing the last remaining Winchester into her arms.

  With one last kiss to your forehead, he turned and left.

  Ellen took you inside and settled you onto a bed.

 What neither of them noticed however, were the two men watching vigilantly from a distance and how one held a letter with a symbol engraved into it, one that would represent so much more in the future.

________________________________

Finishing with your numbers for now, you glanced up and around the bar to see Ellen and Jo gone. Bobby nowhere to be found either. You shrugged it off and went to get yourself a drink from behind the bar.

  Scanning the bar for it, you decided which one you wanted and was about to pour it but the bell chimed, signalling a new customer.

  Instantly, you went to approach the new customer and ask what they wanted, but felt physically ill when you saw it wasn’t just one. There were two…

  Your brothers.

  Sam and Dean.

 You stumbled back into the bar and gripped it tightly.

 They smirked at you.

 “Hello, sister.”

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Taglist ~

@kickingitwithkirk​

@nerdettezebracorn333​

#sam winchester x reader #sam x reader #Sam Winchester #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #mobster!sam winchester #mobster!dean winchester #supernatural x reader #supernatural

[thatshankcallednewt]

TMR Time Loop/Groundhog Day Soulmate AU: Newt - Prettier Than Last Time: Part Three (Final)

You could hardly sleep. When you woke up, you practically bolted out of your bedroom and showered infinitely quicker than usual. You were nervous, to say the least. Way more nervous than yesterday. You were so distracted, you almost fell over in the shower, your feet sliding over the slippery tiles.

You did things as usual, got dressed and brewed a cup of coffee. But time seemed to go slower than usual. You were taking quick, distracted mouthfuls of it once it was done and, in your cup, when you heard your mom drop her tub of moisturizer down the stairs again. It thumped three times and rolled once it had reached the wooden floorboards, and she gasped and almost cursed, as usual, until she called out, “Y/N?”

“Yeah, I’m awake!” you called back, knowing that was what she wanted to know. You were already almost finished with your cup of coffee.

“That all you’re having?” she repeated, coming into the kitchen, fully dressed. And like last time, she headed towards the refrigerator. “You know—”

“I know, food in the fridge. Just not hungry,” you said, as you double-checked that it was Tuesday by looking at the date on your lock screen. Tuesday it was.

She stopped in front of the fridge, hand at the ready. Then she turned away from it to grab the banana. “You can’t think without fuel—”

“I know,” you interrupted, putting your phone down, “I can’t get fuel from coffee, but that banana won’t get eaten, and you know it.”

Your mom stopped reaching for the banana as you said this and dropped her arm by her side. She squinted at you. “You’re acting really… strange.”

“Well,” you started, finishing the last mouthful of your drink, “You could argue that this is the most important day of my life.”

She frowned. She crossed her arms over her chest, her pointed stare trying to figure you out. “What, you’ve got that test today or something? It’s just a math test—”

“It’s tomorrow, and I’m not worried about that one bit,” you smiled, reaching for your bag. You’d be a bit early to the bus stop, but there was no point in hanging around listening to the same conversation a third time. “I better get going.”

“Oh, uh, okay,” she stuttered, watching you as you headed for the front door, “have a good day!”

You smiled.

                                                         ***

You’d spent your extra time this morning looking for him. But you couldn’t see him. You found Minho and Thomas, but the blond headed boy just wasn’t around. You searched hallways and lockers you hardly ever passed, assuming you’d never met because of differing schedules and locker locations. But that wasn’t the case.

Or at least, you were starting to think it wasn’t, because you couldn’t even find him in any of the school yearbooks in the library. Did he exist at all?

By the time you got to the cafeteria, deciding that spending your break in the library pawing over more yearbooks would be pointless, you were a nervous wreck. You’d see him at the field today for sure, but you at least wanted to know his name first. You couldn’t even find that.

“So,” Brenda said, tucking her short hair behind her ear, “You’re still gonna be at the track meet today after school, right?” She was eating fries again.

Teresa sat down beside her, sandwich in hand. “Of course, she’s going, we all are.”

“Yeah,” you said quietly, too nervous to eat. “I’ll be there.”

“It’s going to be great!” Brenda said excitedly, just like the first Tuesday, and Teresa harassed her for only wanting to go to see Minho in action, to which kicked off their usual argument.

You glanced at the doors just in case, you didn’t remember seeing him in the cafeteria both times but maybe you missed him. You spotted Minho and Thomas though, eating at a table not too far away. Brenda would sneak occasional glances at Minho, something you didn’t notice any of the other times.

Most days, Teresa would go sit with Thomas. Or Thomas would come over here. And Brenda would get all flustered because if Thomas came over here then Minho would follow. You blinked, almost frowning, as you realized that never any of those times did you notice a blond British boy in tow.

“Y/N? Hello?” Brenda suddenly said, which broke you from your thoughts. You turned to look at her.

“Yeah?”

Brenda laughed, glancing at Teresa, “Looking for someone?”

“Maybe,” you said quietly.

Teresa frowned.

“Well, okay,” Brenda said, humorously, “Anyway, as I was just saying… maybe we can find you a cute guy at the track meet today?”

“Sure,” you muttered, not really thinking. You were starting to feel anxious. When you saw him, face-to-face, would you really go up to him? You were starting to feel so scared of meeting him properly that your hands shook, and your palms were sweaty.

“Really?” Brenda practically gasped, looking to Teresa who stared at you with suspicious eyes. She knew something was up. Brenda, however, was excited to finally get you a boy, though of course you wouldn’t actually let her. “Rachel always knows who’s single, so I could ask her for you. Unless…”

You looked up at her at her sudden change int tone of voice, “Unless?”

“Unless you have someone in mind already?”

You stared at her a moment. “I don’t know yet.”

Teresa watched you carefully in silence, her blue eyes analytical.

But Brenda didn’t seem to care either way and went on about how she’d check in with Rachel and that you could make up your mind later.

“What happened to only caring about school and work and…” Teresa trailed off, checking the time on her phone. She’d have to leave for the lab soon.

You shrugged.

She shook her head, “You’re acting weird,” she concluded, and scooted her chair backwards so she could stand up. “I’ve got to head to the lab early, experiments and stuff.” She slipped her bag on, shoving her phone inside, “I’ll see you at the meet!” She turned towards the double-doors.

You stood up too, about to say goodbye to Brenda, when Teresa turned around and called out, “And Y/N?”

You looked over your shoulder at her, confused at this new interaction, “Yeah?”

She smiled, “Go get him.” She didn’t give you time to react, and you watched her in shock as she left the cafeteria.

“Am I missing something?” Brenda questioned, interrupting your disbelief.

You shook your head, “I’ve got no idea,” you packed your food back into your bag and slung the straps over your shoulders. You said goodbye and smiled to yourself as you headed for the exit, shaking your head. Of course, she’d know. Teresa was already smart. But she’d been through it before, the whole soulmate ordeal. You didn’t feel too guilty about not letting Brenda know yet, you’d tell her all about it once this day was over.

You were lost in thought as you opened the double doors, and immediately bumped into someone as they were coming in. You stopped, always forgetting this moment before it was too late. “Sorry,” you said, as reflex, and looked up into the eyes of the brown eyed, blond boy who was supposedly your soulmate.

Your eyes widened and you choked back a small gasp.

He shook his head, tucking a blond curl behind his ear, “Don’t be, I wasn’t really paying attention to where…” he tilted his head, blinking, “to where I was going,” he finished, quietly. He was wearing the same denim, wool-lined jacket, and black jeans. His accent and his eyes on you made your cheeks flush; he really was cute.

Your mouth was dry. You tried swallowing but it was no use. This was the moment. The moment, you repeated to yourself, but what were you supposed to say again? You panicked, and laughed, “Neither was I.”

He smiled and it melted your heart. But what if he wasn’t the one?

You opened your mouth and stopped yourself, squeezing the strap on your shoulder, you frowned. That’s it! The sunset—

“The sunset,” you blurted out all of a sudden, nervous and cheeks heated. He looked at you, curiously. And for some reason, some stupid reason, you continued, “It’s –uh,” you paused, swallowing, watching his eyes grow confused, “it’s even prettier than last time…?”

After you’d said it, you wanted to curl up and cry.

He looked at you a moment, his brown eyes studying yours. “Sorry, love?”

“Nothing!” you almost yelled and dodged past him before he could say anything else, or before you could say anything else. You were so embarrassed; you couldn’t think straight. You passed your class without even realizing and somehow made it into one of the open courtyards. You forced yourself to stop walking, which led to pacing nervously instead. You could have facepalmed, you felt so stupid. The moment repeated over and over in your head.

“Y/N?”

You looked up as you heard the voice call out your name and met eyes with Teresa’s. You sighed shakily but couldn’t help the few tears that sprung to your eyes. “Teresa,” was all you could manage.

“You okay?” she asked, walking over to you. She was still wearing her lab coat and her science goggles hung around her neck. She frowned and touched your shoulder, “What happened?”

“I made a mistake,” you said, shaking your head. “I thought…”

She watched you carefully, “You thought you knew who… he was?”

You nodded. You sat down on one of the outdoor tables. You probably looked so embarrassed and pathetic, but you couldn’t help it, you didn’t know how to deal with all of this. You didn’t want to mess it up, yet here you were, making a complete mess of it anyway.

“I thought I knew him and… I guess I was wrong.”

“Did you ask him?” she said, sitting down beside you.

You couldn’t look her in the eyes, instead, you stared at your hands which sat in your lap. “No, I didn’t. I said something I thought he’d get, you know, from one of the other days but…” you sighed, huffing with frustration. “I thought he was the one! Teresa,” you almost choked, “I… wanted it to be him…”

Teresa shook her head, sighing. She didn’t seem worried or concerned in the slightest, in fact, it seemed she had a small smile curling at her lips, “For God’s sake, Y/N.”

You stared hard at her, wiping the few speckles of tears from the corners of your eyes, “What?”

“If you want it to be him then it probably is him!” she answered, exasperated. You stared at her, confused. She rolled her eyes, “Look, when I was at the dance trying to find my stupid soulmate,” she sighed, “I tried being subtle. But boys are stupid, Y/N!”

You laughed, shaking your head, “So, what did you do?”

She thought a moment, her voice quieter than before, “I wanted it to be Thomas. After a while, I started noticing more and more things about him. Things that made sense, things that I liked. But we never spoke. Except for the one time, when he would hold the door open for me and I would say thanks.”

“I tried hinting at it,” she continued, fiddling with her pen, “but it was no use. He was thick,” she rolled her eyes, “or just nervous, like me. I got fed up with it all and didn’t wanna live another day of it, so when I got to the dance, I outright asked him.”

Your eyes widened, “You did?”

“Yeah,” she said. “When I got there, and he held the door open for me. I asked if he was my soulmate. He looked at me like I was crazy, and I almost regretted it but then he nodded.” She smiled at the memory, and you thought it cute. “I asked him if he thought it was me and he said, ‘Why do you think I kept holding the door open for you?’, stupid.”

You laughed, shaking your head. It was such a Thomas thing to do. “So, what… you’re saying I should just ask him?”

Teresa nodded, smiling. “You’ll never know until you know. Then this whole mess will be over, and you can finally make it to Wednesday. Besides, if it isn’t him, he won’t remember after today resets.”

She was right. You suddenly felt confident and you nodded, “Alright.” You stood up from the table, “I think I will. I’ll find him at the race today, that’s where I know he’ll be next.” You hugged Teresa, “Thanks, T.”

“No worries,” she replied, standing up too. She smoothed out her coat, “Did you ever tell us?”

“No,” you answered, honestly.

“How come?”

You shook your head, sighing, “Guess I thought it might mess it up or something… but it seems like I’ve done a pretty good job of that all on my own.”

She smiled, soft, a little amused. You were glad to have her as a friend, she was always logical and calm, which was helpful in your chaotic little mind. She nodded towards her class, “Better get back to it, the bell will go soon.”

You waved her goodbye and headed for class, too. The nerves were still there but now they pushed more for excitement rather than horror and fear. This would be it, the final time you’d relive this day. You were never more excited to reach Wednesday in your whole life.

                                                            ***

You practically ran for the field as soon as class let out. You didn’t bother much with the stuff in your locker and bag, you didn’t seem to care at all about the test tomorrow. Everything that always was priority suddenly felt unimportant.

There were still a lot of people around by the time you got there, of course, just like the other times. You knew where your friends would be, by the railing, waiting for Minho’s race to start. But of course, they could wait.

The whistles and shouting seemed to drown out as you concentrated. But you couldn’t spot the blond guy anywhere. You scanned the crowds from far away, but groups were spread out all over the field, both competitors and spectators alike. It was hard to keep track. You remembered he was wearing a denim jacket and black jeans; you thought it would help distinguish him from the crowd, but it was almost no use.

You started walking towards your friends after some time went by. But then you realized that he might be heading over to the kiosk again; when you bumped into him that time and first noticed his accent and blond hair. You stopped in your tracks, turning your head immediately in the direction of the snack bar. You couldn’t see much of a line, but you began walking over there anyway. Your pace quickened as you felt butterflies in your stomach. You were practically running, weaving around and through groups of students, but slowed to a stop when you reached the small shed-like compartment. Staff and volunteer students were bustling about, people were just beginning to line up for fresh, hot donuts. You couldn’t see him waiting around, so maybe you were early.

You turned from the line quickly, to look out in the direction of where you remembered he had come from the first time and smacked right into someone. “I’m sorry!” you said quickly, without really looking at who. You were about to walk off when he spoke.

“You!” he said, out of breath. He was shaking his head, “You know how long I’ve been runnin’ around here looking for you?”

You stopped, turned, and met eyes with the brown-eyed, blond stranger. You blinked. “L-Looking for me?”

“What you said earlier,” he breathed, straightening as he gulped down air. He eyed you, a small smile curled his lips, “I’m such an idiot.”

You stared at him, as if you were in shock.

He blinked, suddenly nervous, “You know, the sunset, the—”

“I know,” you breathed, nodding your head.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get it when you said it, I just—”

“Didn’t expect me?” you asked.

He blinked. Running a nervous hand through his hair, his eyes dropped to his shoes, “Nah, not like that. I—” he looked up at you again, “I was surprised you’d said it. I guess… I guess I didn’t expect it to be you, but not because I don’t know who you are.”

You frowned, “What do you mean?”

“Y/N, right?” he asked. His voice was soft and still a little nervous.

“Yeah…”

He smiled, his eyes were kind, “I like it, for the record.” He glanced at the race as the starter pistol echoed and it began, but quickly looked back at you, “I promise I’m not a creepy stalker or anything, I’ve just been doing the same thing almost three times now and I noticed your name badge yesterday.”

“My…?” you were surprised to say the least. You thought back to each work shift but couldn’t place his face in any of those memories, except until after you’d finished and already had your uniform folded up and put in your bag. “You were at Joe’s Diner?”

He laughed a little, and you liked the way his eyes smiled. He suddenly feigned hurt by placing a hand over his heart as if it had been damaged by your words, “You didn’t notice me?”

“I—” you sighed, “I was just real busy…”

“It’s fine,” he said, “I noticed. You were running about, all frazzled.”

“I hope not too frazzled,” you said, embarrassed.

“The cute kind,” he smiled. “My name is Newt, by the way,” he stuck out his hand for you to shake.

You blushed and shook his hand, “It’s good to meet you, finally. I saw you out the front of Joe’s… and I remembered you from bumping into you at the snack bar the first time.”

He chuckled, “Yeah, we’re quite the clumsy pair of soulmates, love. I would’ve stayed, too, to help you with the food you dropped but the bloody race started… Minho would’ve cracked a fit if I missed it. Guess he still will, since today won’t reset again,” he said, in realization.

“We can pretend you watched the whole thing, with me as your witness,” you offered, smiling up at him.

“Cheers, that’d bloody save my ass.” He shook his head as you walked with him, closer to the track. “I can’t believe we missed each other that many times, despite bumping into one another… I looked for you yesterday at the snack bar but couldn’t see you.”

“You looked for me?”

“Yeah,” he said, nervously tucking a curl behind his ear, he shrugged, “I –uh, like I said, I knew who you were. Wanted to see you again.”

You swallowed. You weren’t so anxious anymore, but the nerves were still there. You were talking to your soulmate. And he was into you. You felt stupid for thinking he’d never have any kind of interest. “I thought I would try being in different spots instead of repeating the first day exactly but… obviously, that was dumb.”

“Nah, not dumb, just thinking outside of the box,” he suggested, and you both stopped in front of the railing. You leaned against the metal and squinted as Minho finished the race, winning first place. “You didn’t ever think it would be me?” he asked, bravely.

You looked at him, still leaning on the railing. You felt your cheeks pinken. “I… uh… I wanted it to be you,” you laughed, “I was so nervous, when I blurted out what I said this morning… I panicked.”

He looked amused, his brown eyes squinting with his smile. “You wanted it to be me, huh?” he challenged, and he nudged you in the arm, “thought you didn’t notice me.”

“I did,” you argued, “I thought you were cute. I think you’re cute.” You felt embarrassed for saying it but not so badly, because the way his eyes lit up and his smile grew warmed your heart. “How have we not come across each other? I looked for you in the yearbooks, in the library, and I couldn’t find you.”

His eyebrows raised, “You did? Look who’s the stalker now.”

“Oh, shut up,” you joked, and he laughed.

“It’s probably because… I don’t go to this school.”

Your eyes widened, “You don’t? But I bumped into you at the cafeteria…”

“Yeah,” he said, “I was surprising Minho and Tommy.” He scratched his head, “Technically, you’re fraternizing with the enemy.”

Eyebrows raised, you looked at him, “Enemy?” you laughed.

“You know the school that always comes second to Minho?”

You nodded, thinking back to what Brenda said. “Ah, your school has quite the reputation around here.”

“Not surprised,” Newt said, shaking his head.

“You mustn’t be much of an enemy if you’re friends with Thomas and Minho, though.”

“That’s true,” he nodded, his hand resting on the metal railing. He looked at you for a moment. “You can trust me.”

“You can trust me, too,” you said, somewhat quietly. You felt like you could trust him, the moment you saw him. He had kind eyes and a soft smile. He wasn’t overly boisterous or loud. The attraction you felt toward him when you first saw him hadn’t not meant nothing, it had meant everything.

“So…” he started, leaning back from the railing, shoving his hands into his denim pockets. “I guess I can’t see you after this. I mean, not unless I go to Joe’s.”

You sighed, “Guess not…” you frowned, thinking a moment, “But we could always watch the sunset together afterwards? I heard it’s supposed to be pretty,” you joked.

He smiled again at this, “It sure is.”

                                                          ***

You definitely noticed him this time. They sat at a booth at the opposite end of the diner to where your tables were, so it wasn’t that much of a surprise that you hadn’t noticed him those times before. This time, however, you couldn’t stop noticing him. And the fact that Teresa and Brenda were both there, too.

You finally told them all about it. Brenda, of course, was the most shocked since she’d been kept in the dark. Teresa wasn’t surprised the least bit when you told her that it had worked out, and that he was your soulmate, though she wasn’t expecting it to be Newt, her soulmate’s close friend.

That, and Brenda wanting to meet this “Newt guy” as she had put it, led to the group hang out at the diner, which was only mildly unfortunate for you since you had to miss out. But you were glad that everything was fixed. You’d met your soulmate. Wednesday would finally come around. You would smash that math test. Brenda got to finally go out with Minho, and you had a sunset to look forward to.

You folded up your uniform and got changed quicker than usual. Everything was packed and you were excited to get going, you almost forgot to clock off and say goodbye to the others. You walked over to their booth at the end, and you were greeted with smiles.

“Y/N,” Newt breathed, “Save me from these crazy people.”

You laughed at his desperation, and he loved it. He could listen to your laugh all day. He jumped up from the booth and nodded to his friends, and you both said goodbye to everyone before exiting the diner. The air outside was crisp and fresh, and the sunset was only just beginning.

Newt said he knew of a park nearby that would have a perfect view of the sky, since it was situated over a kind of valley. He led the way, insisting it was only a short walk. You weren’t so sure about that, but you’d made it to the park in time for the explosion of warm colors in the sky, and a hot chocolate each from the ice cream place nearby.

The grass was golden, and the sky was illuminated with pinks and oranges. You were surprised every single time, despite having seen it before. You both sat on top of a picnic table, heads turned to the view. You could see the city below, in the distance. And the golden glow of dusk. The suburbs behind you and trees to enclose you in this safe, secret spot.

“It really is prettier than last time,” you breathed.

“Agreed, but maybe that’s because I have such pretty company.”

You rolled your eyes jokingly at him and he laughed at your response, “Cheesy.”

“Good kind of cheesy though, right?”

“Maybe,” you smiled.

You both sipped at your warm drinks in silence, taking in the wonderful array of colors, and just enjoying each other’s company. After a bit, he spoke, “Nice trick with the hot sauce.”

You frowned, eyebrows furrowing, “What do you mean?”

“You know,” he sipped at his drink, “You caught it again.” He looked at you and you were waiting for an explanation. “You dropped it the first time. Smashed to a million pieces, had to clean it up, remember?”

Your cheeks pinkened, “You saw that? Jeez…”

“How could I not?” he teased, “But hey, it’s what made me notice you. Then I realized you were the girl I bumped into two times that day.”

You shook your head, “Right, the cafeteria… the field… wait a minute—” you looked at him again, his brown eyes reflected the warmth from the sky, “You knew I caught it the second Tuesday and today?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, as if it didn’t mean anything. Then his eyes widened. “Oh for—”

“Newt!” you said, nudging his arm, and he almost spilled his drink on himself. You both laughed at how clumsy and thick you both were. “I can’t believe you saw me catch the sauce; didn’t you think something was up? I mean, things were a little different depending on how different your choices were, but stuff like that—”

“I know, I know,” he sighed, shaking his head. His hair fell around his face, making his curls super fluffy and cute. You were in awe. His cheeks were a little pink when he caught you staring at him.

“It’s okay,” you said, “We got here in the end, right?”

“Right,” he agreed. He was looking at you still, you could feel it, even though you’d turned to watch the sky again. “Y/N?”

He glanced at your hand, the one that rested on top of the table which you both sat on. He held out his hand to you, “This okay?”

You offered your hand to him and he took it, and you leaned in closer to him resting on his shoulder. Your hands clasped together, sat on your leg, fingers intertwined. He liked that you felt safe with him, as he did with you, and you both knew that even though you still had to a lot to get to know about each other, this connection was by far the strongest thing you ever felt.

“I can’t wait for tomorrow,” he breathed.

“Me too.”

#tmr newt #tmr imagines #tmr #thatshankcallednewtimagines #newt #groundhog day soulmate au #soulmate au #tmr soulmate au #newt x reader #tmr fic

[spidercakes]

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Omega!Peter and Alpha!Tony.

Warning: Peter is 17 (Tony is a year and a half older), there’s some mentions of abuse (not with the main pairing), feminization (Peter).

*

Peter has to take like twenty pictures before he arranges himself just right in the frame and sends it off to Quentin. When his phone buzzes he gets a noncommittal niceand Peter stares at the phone for a few moments because he’s kind of pissed, actually. When Quent sends him a picture he’s supposed to fawn all over him but he gets nicewith no punctuation? Really? Ugh, he’s so damn sick of Quentin being likethat because he’s suresomeone else would appreciate his efforts and he’s sotempted to test it too because his skirt is cuteand the picture is fucking artful, okay? He even made sure the lighting was nice. Fucking Quent.

He stews on that for a long time, texting the group chat back and forth about it while he does math homework, ugh. Ned, probably because he kind of hates Quentin, tells him he should do it and when he asks for MJ’s advice he’s pretty sure she encourages him because she loves drama so long as it doesn’t involve her. Liz, as always, is the voice of reason and tells him he’s just frustrated, which is truebut also. He just wants to know, for scienceas MJ helpfully put it, if someone else would actually give him a half way decent response. Not that that’s hard when your competition is nice, no punctuation.

Its not like he’s really considering it much when he scrolls through his contact list on account of everyone he knows knows Quentin, obviously, and they’d obviously pass the information of him sending out saucy pictures to other people. And then Peter would have to deal with thatlike Quentin doesn’t flirt with every omega that moves not that Peter can do that, godforbid. Ned told him once that if he wanted a knot that badly he should get a dildo because they don’t talk back and Peter’s tempted some days because he’s sure a dildo would take less work to care for than Quentin’s big ass ego.

So maybe that’s why he lingers over Tony Stark’s name and he can’t even remember howhe got his number but its not like he goes to their high school anymore and even when he did he hated Quent so its not like he’d sayanything if Peter sent him something. For science, just to see if Quent really isa jackass or maybe he’s just overreacting.

For S C I E N C EMJ texts and he really shouldn’t.

You should just dump himNed adds in the group chat.

Omg guys stop it! Just talk to him like a normal human!Liz says, remaining the voice of reason.

Talking is for people, not QuentinsMJ sends back and Peter snickers.

Send me saucy pics, will rate them out of tenNed says with three laughing emojis.

We all already vet them the fuck are you on about that pic was cute as fuckMJ says.

Hey wait, is that my skirt? Liz says and Peter looks down. Well, maybe.

Nohe lies.

Omg it is give that back I’ve been looking for it everywhere!

You didn’t notice until we after we vetted the pic I say Peter should be allowed to keep itNed says.

You’re cute as hell Liz but it does look better on PeterMJ adds.

You guys suck. Don’t send that pic to anyone!Liz says.

Peter nods, knowing she’s right when his phone buzzes again and its Quent and the asshole, the asshole!

What, is that it? Gunna send more or are you back to being a tease?

A tease? “Oh fuck you Quentin,” Peter snaps, finding Tony’s number in his phone again and sending him the damn picture. He knows he’s being stupid but it makes him feel better so… that’s not an excuse but whatever, he doesn’t care.

Tony’s response doesn’t take long.

Um.

Think that was meant for someone else.

I deleted it obvs.

Because like

I’m not a piece of shit

The texts come in quick succession because apparently Tony doesn’t have a thing about double texting, Peter guesses. He considers the response for a moment before he sends something back.

And if I said that was meant for you?

Because that’s what he wanted to know, right? Except sending out racy pictures to people who didn’t ask for them is kind of creepy and now Peter feels bad because it’s not like he enjoys it when it happens to him. Mostly because the pictures always look like fucking prisonsecurityphotos and whether or not he asked for them pictures with poor composition are a total turn off. His phone buzzes, then buzzes again right away and Peter figures either MJ dropped something horrible like the Grinch sucking a dick into the group chat again or its Tony. He sighs, picking it up and resigning himself to his fate either way when he notices its Tony.

AFHPWURE

Ok

What the fuck did I do to get this luck lmao

This is like

The best gift when studying

That skirt is so much more interesting than physics

Kinda mad I deleted it now

Peter smiles a little and sends it back just to be polite like that. Tony keeps up the trend of responding quickly, phone buzzing as his messages come in.

Bro

I don’t want to look the gift horse in the mouth

But also what prompted this

But also also I kind of don’t care

I am 100% on board with whatever this is

Like probably even 200%

Or more

Point is you’re the best

And also like really cute

I don’t remember you being that cute

Peter reads all the messages and laughs, shaking his head because apparently Tony says whatever is on his mind but, for science, he figures maybe he’ll send him a little something else too. It’s always good to try and repeat your results, right? So he abandons his desk and homework in favor of his bed, carefully laying himself down on his stomach as he hikes the skirt a little higher around his waist so the pleats sit justlong enough to cover his ass as he opens the camera on his phone. He watches the mirror in the background as he lifts his legs, crossing them at the ankles and spreading his legs just a bit. Its more than a little suggestive, if Tony takes the time to look in the background of the picture anyway. From the front is a pretty cute picture with half his face in the frame while the rest of it is taken up with an artful shot of his body. With the skirt hiked up like that its still pretty risqué but the devil is in the details.

He sends it off to Tony, for science reasons purely or at least that’s what he tells himself anyway. If he’s honest he kind of likes the attention because he missesit and it always feels like he has to jump through hoops to get Quent to pay him any attention at all. Tony doesn’t seem to need as much plying.

Omg

I’m so torn

On one hand, physics exam. Worth 40% of my grade

On the other hand

He sends back a close up of Peter’s picture with a red circle drawn around the mirror and a lot of exclamation points.

You see my dilemma, surely

And like

I’m good at physics I can probably pass without studying

So, science concluded, Quentin is a fucking dick and Peter bites his lip, unsure what to do here so he drops a message into the group chat fully anticipating Liz judging him so he’s a little surprised when she answers first and tells him to just dump Quent. MJ and Ned respond ‘fuck him’ at the same time and Peter considers his options for a moment.

*

Its not like Peter meantfor this to happen but Quent was being a total assholeagain and Peter has been told he’s got the patience of a saint but even he has his limits. So he had dumped Quent maybe a little too publically considering he told him to stuff it in the middle of the cafeteria before storming off and Tony happened to send one of his adorably stupid jokes at the right time. But still, its not like he meantfor it to lead to him in the back seat of Tony’s car with his arms wrapped around Tony’s neck as Tony guides his hips the way he wants. “Yes, baby, just like that,” Tony tells him as he moves, “feel so good,” he murmurs as he moves one of his hands up Peter’s bare back.

He moans at the praise, pressing his forehead to Tony’s. “Yes,” he murmurs into Tony’s mouth as he kisses him, “touch me.” Tony does, hands roaming up his back and down again, brushing over his hips, up his sides and down his chest. Tony touches him like he can’t get enough and Peter feels the sharp flush of arousal at Tony’s hands explore his body.

Tony lets out a soft groan, “so wet for me baby,” Tony tells him, shifting his hips up into Peter’s.

Peter nods, breathless. “Like the way you touch me,” he murmurs into Tony’s mouth as he kisses him. Tony reaches up and brushes his fingers across Peter’s cheek and he can feelthe way he produces more slick in response.

“What, never had anyone take care of you?” Tony murmurs, eyes soft and caring as he runs his fingers through Peter’s hair. He shakes his head because Quent wasn’t like… badat sex, actually he was pretty good at it, but Peter kind of always felt like a means to an end rather than an actual participant. Tony wasn’t like that from the start. Peter knew as soon as Tony saw him, conveniently wearing that skirt he’d first sent pictures of himself in, he’d wanted to fuck him but he let Peter make the first move and made sure everything he did was okay. Peter wouldn’t have thought he’d like that much, he’s always had a bit of a thingfor bad boys but its not like Tony doesn’t look the part. He just doesn’t act it and Peter finds that surprisingly attractive.

“Up, baby,” Tony murmurs, patting the underside of Peter’s ass and he frowns.

“What? No,” he says, full well knowing that he sounds whiney and Tony laughs.

“Shh, baby s’not like that. Lay back, let me take care of you,” he murmurs, leaning forward and kissing Peter softly as he guides him off. Peter still makes a noise at the loss but lets Tony lay him out over the seat of the car. It’s awkward, in the cramped space, but Tony makes do as he settles between Peter’s legs. His hand curls around the outside of Peter’s right knee, thumb softly caressing the skin there as he looks down at Peter. “Fuckyou are gorgeous,” he murmurs, leaning in and pressing a kiss to the inside of his thigh.

He sucks in a breath and Tony smiles at him as he kisses him again, carefully sucking at the soft skin of his inner thigh. Peter’s breath hitches again as Tony moves a little lower, kisses soft and sweet as he moves his way down. His legs fall further apart mostly of their own accord, a silent invitation for Tony to keep going. “Tony,” Peter all but whines as Tony takes his time.

Tony lifts his head from where he’s nipping at the inside of Peter thigh, “yeah, baby?” he murmurs.

Peter makes a soft, frustrated noise. “Give me more than that,” he tells Tony.

Tony grins, giving the inside of Peter’s though one last kiss before he shifts his position. “Hm, guess I should give you a little something for wearing this, shouldn’t I?” he asks, toying with the edge of Peter’s skirt.

“Wanted you to want me,” Peter tells him and Tony laughs.

“Mission fucking accomplished. But you could have done that wearing a paper bag,” Tony says.

Peter lets out a breathless laugh, “flatterer,” he accuses lightly.

Tony shakes his head though, “mm, I’m not much of a flatterer unless it’s earned. And fuck, its like you’re made just for me you’re so perfect,” Tony tells him as he lifts his skirt and licks up the length of his dick, root to tip and Peter gasps, one hand flying into Tony’s hair as he takes Peter into his mouth.

“Tony!” Peter gasps, grip on his hair tightening and Tony moans around him. Peter does his best to keep his hips from jerking involuntarily as Tony works him over. He’s clearly practiced, skilled with the use of his tongue and Peter moans loudly, back arching as Tony’s head bobs over him.

His breath comes faster as he moans and this mostly only seems to encourage Tony, who enthusiastically throws himself into it and Peter finds that almost as hot as the blowjob. Quent didn’t really go down on him much, always complained that he was too loud and squirmed too much to make it worth his time but Tony doesn’t seem to have a problem with it. Judging from the way his fingers flex on Peter’s thighs and the way he moans when Peter does he’d say Tony actively likes his squirminess so Quent can suck it. Figuratively seems how he couldn’t be assed to do it literally.

Tony shifts a little, shifting as his fingers trail up Peter’s inner thigh until they hit his ass. Peter gasps as he runs his fingers over his hole, teasing lightly. “Tony, please,” Peter tells him, tugging on his hair a bit as encouragement. Tony moans softly and presses two fingers in and Peter can’t help the way his hips jerk up a little. Tony doesn’t complain about it as he fucks into Peter with his fingers. Peter’s breath is coming in ragged as the pleasure builds and he bites his lip.

“Tony,” Peter says, grip on Tony’s hair tight. “Tony ‘m gunna,” Peter stops, moaning as Tony’s fingers curl a little inside him and his hips buck up again. He shifts his legs so they’re open a little wider and Tony moans around him again. Peter throws his head back, biting his lip. “Tony ‘m gunna cum,” he tells him.

Tony takes that as encouragement to pick up the pace and the shit he’s doing with his tongue is fucking sinfuland Peter finally gets who people likethis kind of thing. “Tony,” he says, one hand gripping the seat he’s on hard and the other still tightly woven in Tony’s hair. “Tony ‘m gunna… gunna- oh, oh!” he says, head thrown back as he cums, letting Tony suck him through it. He allows himself to relax for a few moments before he musters the energy to look down at Tony, who looks pleased with himself.

“How’d you like that, baby?” he asks and Peter lets out a soft laugh.

“I think I might be in love with you,” he says, only half joking.

*

Quent looks pissed and Peter doesn’t really give a shit. “Oh shut upQuentin, this is your own fault for not appreciating me enough,” Peter tells him.

Quentin rolls his eyes, “oh, like you can do any better, Peter,” he snaps.

Peter snorts, “it didn’t even take me twenty four hours to find better Quent. You suck thatmuch and not even literally! God, you’re such a prick you couldn’t even be bothered to go down on me once and a damn while!” he says, throwing his hands up in frustration. He ignores the laughter of his classmates because Quent was the one who started yelling in the hallway so this is hisfault really. He resents that Quent looks so mad about this because Peter was happy to have just dumped him and that could have been the end of it but no.

“Dude, not going down on you is automatic dumpage material considering I knowhe expected you to do it,” MJ says off to the side.

“Oh fuck off,” Quent snaps at her but she looks nonplussed.

“Not my fault you’re the fucking worst Quentin. If you wanted Peter so stick around maybe you shouldn’t have made him cry at least twice a week. Didn’t think I had to write that one down for you,” she says, rolling her eyes.

That earns a laugh out of his classmates too and if MJ weren’t so cool about the whole thing, and if they weren’t currently surrounded by witnesses, Peter doesn’t really want to consider what Quent would do. Instead of dealing with her he turns to glare at Peter, “whatever the hell you picked up so isn’t better than me,” he says and Peter squints at him.

“Oh my god, Quent its not even a competition. It would be cruel to stick you in a competition with Tony anyway; its like throwing a fish on land and having it race a cheetah. It’s sad and stupid and all you’ll do is flop around and be pathetic. The fact that he’s better than you isn’t even something I need to think about, it’s just obvious,” he says.

At least Tony listens when he talks, and he likes Star Wars too and he didn’t make fun of him for wanting to build Star Wars Lego things with Ned. Actually he sort of invited himself along and they all had a greattime and ordered pizza because Tony’s not a total dick.

Quent turns an unflattering shade of red at his words and he reaches out for Peter but someone pulls him back. He looks behind him to find Liz there, Ned right beside her looking surprisingly ready to fight considering Ned can’t even manage to win a battle with finding matching socks. “Leave him alone Quentin, he said your done and you are. You don’t get to decide your not,” Liz tells him.

“Also,” Peter adds, “and this is the important part- I moved onand let me tell you a god damn rock would have been more affectionate than you ever were. And wash your god damn football shit, it smells like jock strap and dead things,” he snaps and his classmates erupt in laughter so hard they don’t cut it out this time, laughing over whatever it is that Quentin says back as Liz drags him off.

“Okay,” Ned says once they’re outside. “That was badass,” he tells Peter.

“Good for you,” MJ tells him. “You should have throat punched him though.”

Liz frowns, “why do you always suggest doing that?” she asks.

MJ shrugs, “always wanted to see someone get throat punched and Quentin has a punchable throat,” she says. “By the way just because Ned approves of your new guy that you moved on to waytoo fast doesn’t mean he’s made it past me. Liz doesn’t count because she’s a pushover,” MJ tells him.

“I am not! Just because I don’t suggest punching people doesn’t mean I put up with people’s crap. And for the record if I had to watch anyone get throat punched I would definitely want it to be Quentin,” she tells him. “He does have a punchable throat. And a punchable everything else too.”

“Yeah, but he’s hot,” Peter says, offering up Quentin’s only redeeming quality.

MJ makes a face, “okay,” she says sarcastically and Peter resents that. They all know Quentin is hot and has nothing else to offer so he feels he should get credit there even if he only gets credit there. God, at least Tony has a personality.

#starker #tony stark x peter parker #fanfiction #alternate universe #alpha beta omega

[very-grownup]

THE YEAR IS 2020 AND I WATCHED NEON GENESIS EVANGELION FOR THE FIRST TIME, PART 5

Episode 16.

So last week I didn't give a very detailed report because the grief stuff affected me pretty deeply, but I figured this week would give me ample opportunity to catch up on what happened because weekly anime series, right? INCORRECT. NORMAL BREAKFAST TIME.

So: Misato and Kaji dated as students she dumped him they reconnect at a wedding she gets drunk they kiss she pukes in an alley Kaji is a spy she follows him to a NERV subbasement puts a gun to his head there's a massive life supported original angel with torsos growing out of it.

Episode 16 actually behind the cut.

In the EVA tests, the monitors show Shinji's numbers in the green which is the most good. Misato gives Shinji positive feedback and a thumbs up and this has the poor kid over the moon. Even though this is literally the first time where Shinji has been anything other than mediocre, Asuka gets angry and hostile because even though she bullies Shinji about how he needs to man up, the status quo where she is clearly better than him is good for her self-esteem.

Later in the episode, Asuka's complaining about Shinji reaches a point that Rei Speaks Words and asks Asuka point blank if she needs other people to applaud her to feel like she has purpose. I think the '90s weebs did Rei dirty with the robotic waifu thing. She's disconnected, from her peers and her body and what she does in the EVA, but her points of connection seem really powerful, blunt and intense for their rarity. Asuka doesn't think she needs the praise of others, but she needs to continue succeeding and achieving so she can feel justified in praising /herself/. I think I see the difference, but I'm not sure Asuka's explanation is any less sad than what Rei suggests.

When an Angel attacks (Shinji's dad isn't around AGAIN has this dude just stopped showing up to work?) it's a really cool one I name Eschersphere that's just a floating sphere with black and white stripes. No face, just ball. It casts a shadow hole that absorbs shit. The kids are there, Rei with her giant robot sniper rifle, Asuka with her giant robot axe, and Shinji with his giant robot none weapons. Asuka, still stung about Shinji briefly Doing Well and Feeling Okay, goads him through his fragile sense of success to do something Dumb. Shinji lets himself get goaded because he's /14/ and he's so hungry for another dopamine hit of 'feeling like he matters and is good' and he goes I GOT THIS and rushes Eschersphere and then gets swallowed by the void shadow and disappears. It turns out Eschersphere isn't the Angel but the shadow of the Angel and the actual Angel is the shadow of Eschersphere so the Angel isn't Eschersphere but a shadow sea pancake that can expand and retract and it's a bunch of words for Shinji got eaten by a math hole. Everyone decides this is Misato's fault for letting Shinji think he isn't terrible, briefly.

The robot umbilical cord for Shinji's giant robot is severed and it's running on battery life support and Ritsuko's taking over the situation because she's never made a mistake like giving a teen positive reinforcement. Ritsuko, of course, is prioritizing getting the robot back.

Meanwhile in the Angel shadow dimensional void, Shinji is just counting down the time to his death. He has no expectations of rescue. He basically has a near death experience and his life flashes before his eyes and hey, turns out? It sucks! Everything smells of blood and he has increasing difficulty breathing and his inner Shinji talks to him about his fears and worries and while inner Shinji is very insightful about how each person Shinji knows holds a different Shinji in their heart based on their perceptions of him, inner Shinji also talks to Shinji with as much harshness as everyone else has when they talk to Shinji. Which makes sense. If you've got that guy with you, you know they will talk harsher trash about you than your worst enemy and fighting them is exhausting, cyclical yelling. How's Shinji supposed to be kind to himself?

Even inner Shinji recognizes how pathetic his clutching at the one moment of praise from his father is, how foolish it is to hang his entire life and sense of self on that single instant.

There are a lot of little flashbacks to people talking to Shinji and it's clear in those moments that they're recognizing that part of the problem is Shinji perceives himself as possessing all the negative qualities he believes they project on him ... it's very honest and sad.

Also, some flashes of newspaper stuff about his father being accused of killing his mother? What? What?

ALSO also, Shinji does have memories of his mother. For some reason I thought she was a died when he was a baby because I didn't really bother doing the math at her grave last week due to ALL THE CRYING.

As Shinji's life support systems finally run out and he's simultaneously drowning in blood piss and asphyxiating and probably also carbon monoxide poisoning he thinks his mother's naked ghost is with him which seems reasonable for a near death experience aside from the naked.

Ritsuko's preparing to do ... whatever her plan is to rescue the EVA and also Shinji maybe but before she can, the shadow-that-isn't-a-shadow begins erupting with jagged red spikes and shrinks and disappears and then the Eschersphere begins cracking and bleeding. And bleeding and bleeding and then Shinji's EVA pushes it's way out of the Eschersphere and there's blood everywhere and chunks and blood and the EVA is screaming screaming screaming. Everyone but Rei is upset, even Asuka who's like wtf I pilot something like that? Fuck.

FUCK INDEED, ASUKA.

Blood blood blood and bits of angel guts just staggering in this messy line across the remains of this city.

Shinji comes to with Misato hugging him and crying and honestly? I'm glad this poor kid has someone who'll shed tears over him. I'm sure everyone will take the wrong lessons away from this incident, but I'm glad Shinji got a hug. SOMEONE cares.

Later, as I guess techs hose the Angel blood and guts off the Eva, Commander Ikari and Ritsuko talk about how maybe Misato knows Something but she probably doesn't and the important thing is that Shinji and Rei can never know the Thing. Asuka? I guess German kids don't count.

Shinji's in a hospital room again but the shadows and colours are softer and muted, less cold blue, and Rei is checking on him (Asuka is there not-checking on him because engaging honestly with her emotions would lead to guilt over pushing Shinji to recklessness). Rei expresses Feelings of having been worried about Shinji and now being glad he is safe. Smiles happen. Laughter happens. The kids are all right! It's a good episode! Cool visuals, good use of shadow. Shinji got a hug: I'm glad. This concludes my report on Episode 16 of Neon Genesis Evangelion.

#neon genesis evangelion report #blood blood blood and bits of sick

[skylaswirls]

I feel so hopeless

I don’t know why I’m posting this, I guess I think someone out there is going through the same thing or someone can help me, but that’s a dumb thing to think, my situation is so unique no one can be going through what I’m going through. I’m not educated. I got taken out of school when I was in the first grade because apparently I didn’t like my school, I don’t remember that but according to my mother I was begging her to take me out of that school.

After I got taken out of school my mom said she’ll homeschool me, but she never taught me anything, she never enrolled me in any homeschooling programs. I wasn’t homeschooled, I was just at home. And know because of her I don’t know anything, i haven’t experienced anything other people have because I was never in school. I don’t know basic math, science anything. For the past few years I’ve been trying to get back into school, but every time It looked like I was going to attend a school something got in the way and I never went to that school.

Most of the time it was because of my lack of education, most of the schools my mother applied for required a test but because she didn’t teach me anything she tried to teach me as much math as possible before the test but I never learned enough math in time so I wasn’t able to go to school. One time it was because the school I wanted to go to opened after my mother had to be at work, so if I went to that school she’d be late for work.

The last time I actually attended the school. For a day. My mother didn’t like the class I was put in, most of the kids in that class were second needs kids, and one of the staff told my mother that students "work their way out of that class". So my mother concluded that I was put in that class because of racism (I’m black) and if I stayed I would be held back. At the time I was devastated. I finally got into a school, I was going to be educated, i was going have friends, and I was going to be taken out after a day? I was heartbroken. But looking back I don’t feel to bad about it, my mom was probably right, most of the kids in that class were poc, and poc are often perceived as less intelligent and more difficult to handle than white people, the past few months have taught me that. And being in that class probably would have held me back. But I’m still sad that I got taken out though.

Right now I’m trying to get enrolled in a school and take online classes, and my mother got an email from the board of education saying that they’re seeing if the schools she applied for have space for me. But I don’t have much hope, I haven’t been able to go to school these past few years, I probably won’t be able to go now. I’m sure they’ll be no space open, or something will get in the way.

I know I can teach myself some math but I don’t have the motivation to do anything, I think I might have depression, I’ve felt suicidal before, I’ve lost motivation and interest in my hobbies, and right now I feel hopeless, I’ve felt hopeless for a long time.

But right now I can’t get therapy or a diagnosis. The reason why is long and complicated, but the tldr is that I live with an abusive mother and sister who probably won’t believe me or say god or herbs can help me, and if my mom does believe me I’ll have to tell my therapist about my abusive family but I do not trust cps or the cops because there infamous for being useless in situations like this and the foster system is trash and I’ll probably end up in a worse situation than the one I’m already in.

Another reason I feel hopeless is the state of the world right now. I live in the U.S and I’m worried about trump winning the election. I’m worried that he will become a dictator, that he can put the country under martial law and that I and so many others will loose our rights. I know it sounds ridiculous but based on the things he says and the things his administration has done, it seems likely.

I’m worried about my future. If things continue the way they do. I’ll never be in school and I’ll be uneducated. I won’t be able to go college, I won’t have a good job, I’ll get kicked out and be homeless. I don’t know what I’ll do, there’s nothing I can do, the best and probably only option is suicide. Or becoming a sugar baby (that was a joke).

I just feel so hopeless and sad. I feel like my life will never be better. That it’ll just get worse and worse. I wish I had a friend. Someone to talk to.

#help #tw suicude #tw sucidal ideation #toxic family #i need therapy #i want a hug #uneducated #vent #toxic mom #im lonely #i want help #i want happiness #i hate my mother

[frenchie-sottises]

Angele Headcannons. (Part 2.)

I’m making a part two of this and they’re gonna be more along the lines of “quick facts”, so here we go.

- Looks like she’s 18 still, but is actually 24.

- Smart, yet forgetful as all heck. I.E.: She’ll know a car engine by heart, but there’s always a chance of her forgetting a name to a part. The only possible explanation of this is her anxiety, which has been recorded to have a connection between it and forgetfulness.

- Is the world’s best backwards driver.

- Figured out how to put a clutch in an automatic transmission and make it work.

- Custom built a total of 3 engines. 2 for one, 1 for a truck. Why? Cause the stock ones on both vehicles broke with a custom one breaking as well.

- Knows some ninjutsu.

- If you’re wondering how she knows all of this, she’s self taught and knows how to analyze from multiple sources.

- Is pretty strong for a female. Most conclude it to her being a hybrid, which is half true, but she can somehow switch between human strength and dragon strength. She prefers using human strength.

- Is the biggest Minecraft fan, but plays a version in which no one else has. It’s the Windows 10 version.

- Would be a bigger gamer if she didn’t play games no one else really plays, so she doesn’t mention much about her gaming life.

- No, she doesn’t make block houses, they’re legitimate houses. She even uses a floor planning tool to map things out.

- Has tried to make a circle in Minecraft without help once cause she remembered being complimented on her ability to draw perfect circles, so she thought if she can do that, then crafting one shouldn’t be much different. She actually came surprisingly close.. like one-pixel-off close.

- Plays in creative mode most of the time, but can do survival on hard just fine.

- Most of her music is gaming music. It’s mostly early 2000′s stuff like Sonic Adventure 2, Animal Crossing for the GameCube, and the original Need for Speed.

- If there’s a song she knows, you can bet she’s gonna sing it.

- “I AM THE E.G.G.M.A.N.! THAT’S WHAT I AM. I AM THE E.G.G.M.A.N.! I GOT THE MASTER PLAN!” - Angele in her bedroom in the middle of the night.

- Has taken a liking to industrial/dark music.

- “Get Low” is the only song she plays over and over when she works on her cars. No, it’s not the original version, it’s either the instrumental version or the NfS version.

- Is a memelord.

- “BE GONE, THOT!” - Angele about to slap Not-Hedorah for being annoying.

- When she stands for too long, she just squats and chills. She’s even done it on one leg before just to show off the fact that she’s just that metal.

- Thought Sonic’s grinding shoes in the Sonic Adventure 2 game were neat, so she built metal arches into the bottom of her boots.

- Yes, she can grind on rails, and no, I don’t just mean normal staircase rails. I also mean train track rails.

- Can’t say a joke without laughing like the giggly person she is.

- When there’s a chance for a pun, she will take it.

- Tried sculpting for the first time and it actually turned out better than she’d expected.

- Doesn’t know that she’s blushing till someone points it out. She can’t differ the feelings of blushing and the feelings of anxiety.

- Kinda hates her emotions. She feels like she’s too sensitive most of the time.

- Will never like fruit, but will happily eat vegetables.

- Has a large jukebox that literally looks like a Minecraft note block.

- Feels off when people offer to do things for her. She’s very used to being the one who does it.

- Will quote anything from games to vines.

- Will win a staring contest.

- Several things around the house have been sewn by her hands. This includes any plushies, pillows, blankets, and stockings.

- Got told several times about how good her sewing was. She still doesn’t know how to feel about it.

- Can almost play any instrument she gets her hands on. The most common are the bass, guitar, drums, violin, saxophone, and trombone.

- Singing would be included, but I’m talking stuff that’s learned. Singing’s a natural talent of hers.

- Can play the role of a therapist when someone needs it. I.E.: If someone is scared, she’s not afraid to ask what’s specifically bothering them. If they can’t tell her, she can figure it out on her own and ask later. If they do, or she pinpoints exactly what’s bothering them and they confirm it as so, she’s in most scenarios where she can just spill facts about why they shouldn’t be afraid of it. This has worked in quite a few cases.

- She somehow tricks people into thinking she’s more confident than she actually is. She thinks she’s nothing but an anxious mess that tries her best, but she’s often told by her friends that she radiates confidence to the point they feel better. She has no idea how that works, but she goes with it.

- Has tried spinach at one point in time. Loves it. It was, admittedly, cream cheese spinach with chicken, but she never expected to actually want it.

- Hasn’t taken an I.Q. test and wonders how high her I.Q. actually is.

- Hates math, but is actually pretty damn good at it.

- Has the patience of a saint and no one knows where she got it from.

- Watched some young woman her age from across the parking lot from where she works trying to take the hubcaps off. Instead of doing the common sense thing and use a proper wrench to unbolt them, the woman proceeded to “peel” them off by stepping on them and basically ruin them. She still questions that woman’s sanity.

- Despite being small, she still pokes fun at others who are shorter compared to others. She often gets socked in the gut for it, but she’s completely okay with it.

- Anything that’s supposed to make people’s heads hurt doesn’t work on her. This includes anything from saying stuff that contradicts itself to what she has to witness on the road every day. In most cases, she just laughs at it.

- Loves earrape memes. Thinks they’re freaking hilarious.

Okay, I’mma stop here for now. This is getting long.

#Frenchie Rambles #Persona #Headcannons #Minecraft #Cars #Sonic Adventure 2 #Animal Crossing #Underground Need for Speed #Not-Hedorah #Not-Hedorah NGC #NES Godzilla #NES Godzilla Creepypasta #Godzilla NES Creepypasta #Godzilla NES

[empressxmachina]

Sideline - “iii”. by Imperial-Radiance (that’s me)

Also on Wattpad

   “Madi?”

   The girl in question gasped and shook at the reverberation of her name – Jake’s already orotund voice ringing even more from proximity and can dynamics. So focused on retrieving her phone, she didn’t detect his approach, but the anything but quiet query brought her back to reality. This grossly fucked reality. Just like how Jake reacted to her, Madi knew this made all too much sense to not be real, even though the results were terrifying on her end rather than worrisome. Nevertheless, safety was right there like what she wanted, so she had to be grateful and get it.

   Madi took a breath before retracting her hand from the soda spout and rising from her hunched-over position to see her supposedly giant savior. She already knew there was nothing to allege about his size; she had felt him before seeing him earlier. However, standing erect and seeing that her head couldn’t rise over one of the smallest soda cans that she had ever seen, let alone it being on its side, was quite disheartening. It was made worse, especially now, as there was undoubtedly another body behind it for reference: an above-average body in all respects but still a normally human body. So, she had a few expectations that kept her from passing out again upon sight of Jake.

   She didn’t pass out, but maybe that would’ve been easier to handle.

   Madi could practically see the redness of his blood drain from Jake’s skin when she fully came into view. Any more translucent, and she probably could’ve seen the cogs in his head trying to figure this out and how else to react. He knelt down on a knee and focused his eyes on her fairy-like frame, uncaring of any approaching soda anymore, unaware of the tremor he sent through his tiny friend while doing so, recognizing and scanning all her diminutive details.

   She was a sight to behold to him, and he was, too, to her. However, before she could really absorb his scale like he was, a hand just as large as his planetary, light-eclipsing head began heading right for her. Already having accepted it as her best way out in her lonesome, she was calmly prepared to just let it take her away. Tumbling for so many years had already made her used to rapid altitude shifts, so that wouldn’t have been an issue, even like this… probably.

   But, in a sudden wave, the residual reality of their risk hit her, reigniting her panic.

   She had already been dealt cards from a bad deck, and those cards were still on the table, all over and around her. Even if it would’ve brought her an empathizer to her situation, she couldn’t bear someone else being given a bad hand… and by their own hand.

   So, she didn’t.

   “Jake, no!”

   Madi felt the air blow by from Jake's branching fingers stopping at her yelp. Thankfully, no contact was made with her drink-dampened self. They continued to hover in front of her along her length, letting the risk of touch hang in the air. Following the digits up their tree trunk of an arm to a shoulder and then a head, a colossal, concerned face with dark brunette locks pouring out of a beanie stared at her.

   “No?” Jake repeated, keeping his hand up within grabbing distance of her. “What do you mean ‘No?’ Look at you, Mads. You’re so—”

   “I know what I look like!” she projected up to him, assertiveness replacing her awe for the moment. “You don’t have to tell me. I know it’s bad, but I’m serious. Don’t touch me!”

   Jake winced at her demand, partially from its surprising subject matter and partially from her voice. Despite her diminutive dimensions, he could hear her with clarity – too much clarity if his math was right. He wasn’t sure if it was due to his days blasting music in his ears, his training with sound for his media classes, the endless coaches respectfully lashing out at him all throughout his school years, or him just having sensitive ears, but Madi’s voice was loud to him. It made absolutely no sense, but then again, neither did her size.

   Anatomical anomalies aside, Jake didn’t approve of her seemingly spontaneous surge of pride, either. But at least he could say she was definitely the Madi he knew.

   “You called me here to help you,” he tested, throwing his arms up. “You called me, and now you don’t want me to?” He saw many a flaw with her logic, and if she didn’t catch that through his tone, then his raised eyebrow and head tilt showed her.

   “Yes!” she confirmed with a stomp. Then, she thought about what he said. “No!” Noticing the contradiction, she juggled his words and her own words again, only to puzzle herself in the end. “What?”

   Perhaps it was the stress that complemented her new physique, but she couldn’t tell if Jake was messing with her or not. With him being a televised, Division I athlete rather than ‘just a cheerleader’ like she was as the media tended to say, Madi assumed that he would’ve been informed of the soda recall first. Considering that she was drenched in the stuff – its aroma couldn’t have been mistaken for anything else – she couldn’t comprehend how he could’ve possibly been confused.

   “You know what I’m trying to say!” she pushed, believing the trickster option. “It’s too dangerous!”

   “Danger—? What are you—?” Jake stammered, not believing what he was hearing due to not being on the same page. “Did your new size come with insanity, too, or something? How the fuck else am I supposed to get you out of here without touching you? You know you can’t make it on your own. You said so, yourself! Now, come on.”

   Jake attempted reaching for her again, only for Madi to scuttle backward away from his hand and into the thankfully dull edge of the can.

   “I-I know what I said!” she affirmed, not stopping her retreating until Jake halted again. “But can’t you see my reason why?”

   Jake took a couple of seconds to look her over, and, to her surprise, he eventually concluded a truth that Madi hadn’t realized until he mentioned it.

   “You’re scared of me, aren’t you?” he guessed, barely making out the tiny girl’s eyes widening and lowering his hand to his side because of it. “Madi, I… I’m not going to hurt you.”

   “Oh, my God, Jake. I’m talking about you hurting yourself!” Before Jake could ask any questions or deny her claim, she continued briskly, not bothering to confront his presumption. “I opened this fucking recalled soda, and then this happened to me. The correlation should be obvious, so you touching it head-on could be just as terrible for you if not worse than me right now, right!?”

   Hearing her blunt anecdote, Jake quickly straightened up, pulling his hands back. He had tried making connections between Madi’s new look and the mess around her, but after hearing it straight from the source, the scene around said doll of a damsel finally made complete sense. Now, he had a new challenge: saving her without screwing himself, too. Luckily, a sight in the corner of his eye on his way to her had burned itself into his mind, and it’d be his luck if what he thought was there actually was.

   There’d be no touching soda. In fact, there’d be no soda to touch. But it’d only work if he found what he wanted, and he’d only know by looking first.

   Jake constructed a plan in silence, leaving Madi to try reading his expressions in the dust. He had always had a bit of a cryptic side, seemingly bothered by the most unexpected things. They all came to be fairly sensible once she had managed to get context – it usually being pointed to one all-too-encompassing reason – but she had nothing here. She had nothing to go off when Jake suddenly directed,

   “Don’t move. Not until I tell you to.”

   There was exigency in his tone, similar to that when he thought someone had hurt her over the phone. With the firmness of his face and how it, itself, was no longer facing her, she knew he meant what he said, and she wasn’t going to press him. Still, being a catalyst for tension didn’t sit well with her, even if that tension was most likely going to help her. Jake may not have wanted her to move, but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t speak, still. However, he soon took that opportunity away from her, too.

   Before she could mutter a word, Jake blasted upward onto his feet with his head in the clouds again and zoomed away out of sight. His flowing hairs painted speed lines behind him, and his acceleration nearly toppled Madi over. Though, seeing him build into a tower right in front of her without a care, except doing so to help her, of course, made her legs weak on his own. From what she could tell, she couldn’t even reach his ankles. Hell, his Achilles’ was probably thicker and longer than her, now. But at least he didn’t seem to think of her as less of a person because of her lessened height.

   Aside from juggling emotions sprouted from her watching her tree of a friend walk away, Madi had no time to ponder Jake’s doings before she heard a cacophony of random sounds fill the room, bouncing off its tiles. Water running. Plastics being knocked around. Something being scrubbed or washed. Even if she wanted to ask what he was doing, because she hadn’t the slightest idea, Madi conjectured he wouldn’t have heard her over the noise. It all eventually stopped, though, first blending with each other before gradually softening into nothingness and being replaced by Jake’s returning paces and their squeals.

   Rapid footfalls… and they were speeding up.

   “Mads, I know how you are,” Jake called out over his podiatric drums and what sounded creepily similar to a sloshing, filled bathtub, “but don’t fight me on this, alright?”

   Nothing about his query sounded good, but Madi didn’t have any ideas of her own. Someone, at least, was trying to make moves. She couldn’t put him down for that, and she didn’t.

   Knowing fully well that he couldn’t hear her if he had to yell, she replied anyway. “Uh, okay?”

   Jake wasn’t an idiot, so he surely wouldn’t do something stupid. Her confidence spoke volumes, yet she didn’t get a lot of time to debate that if it hadn’t. In what felt like a split second after, Jake kept his word, giving her the directive that he promised once he passed the locker row before hers,

   “Turn around!”

   She was quick enough to put her back to him just as his treads came to a skidding stop. However, despite all of the lower body strength she had, mostly displayed during floor runs in gymnastics, no amount of sturdiness could’ve blocked what Jake was about to send her direction.

   The moment she thought she would finally remain dry for the rest of the night was dashed as her backside was ambushed by an abrupt rush of a liquid custodians’ closet. The tsunami of cleaners and suds, luckily without an aroma of ammonia, broke her balance, knocking her down into the strong flow and sliding her and every other loose object and substance on it down the row of lockers.

   A minnow trying to traverse a waterfall, Madi soon felt like she was instantly inserted into a scene from one of those video games with a treasure-hunting protagonist doused with quick-time events. Inside the main objective of ‘Don’t drown and die’, there was needing to weave in and out to get away from the massive can halves coming at her like loose guillotine blades and having to grab her still music-playing phone, loose clothes, and the rest of her bag before they got out of reach. By the power of the divine, she managed to re-obtain all her tiny things and put them in front of her to before she made her hard impact with the wall in seconds that felt like hours.

   If she wasn’t composing herself with deep breathing and stillness, then the subconscious fact of the tumbling mat-like buffer of crashing water she met at the wall was the only thing preventing her being permanently paralyzed would’ve been filling her mindscape. That and how hard she was going to ruin Jake from this when she got back to normal.

   Meanwhile, Jake stood from afar with a now-empty bucket dripping the last of its contents onto the floor by his boat-like feet. Empty because he launched the liquid mix much harder than he expected. Getting over the initial thrill he imagined being in a wave head-on like that would be, he soon turned not sure of how to feel seeing his pocket-sized pal being tossed around like a salad. In his caused surge, his goal of the floor and her body being cleansed of the evil elixir simultaneously came to fruition.

   He wanted that, and he got it. It worked. But at what cost?

   Only after throwing the blend did Jake think that it might not have been a good idea to do so, not considering any chance of Madi being poisoned, suffocated, or drowning. He would’ve hit himself for it if he didn’t think that putting the bucket down would’ve endangered her more, so the chastising only came from the inside. Inside until Madi got a voice again, based on how their history ran.

   Baking soda, detergent, a bit of bleach, and water for days. Those ingredients and bits of many others made up the cleanser concoction leaking down the aisle, and it was only a miracle that none of it got in any of Madi’s orifices. Coating her and her stuff, along with the tiles, to loosen and lessen the dregs of vexatious soda was the goal. But to replace it with poison for her was poison to him. Despite the avoided risk, once the spill dried and the can bits were disposed of, it’d be like nothing happened on the floor. Nothing but a living doll and her accessory pack, of course. He just felt lucky that she didn’t appear to be hurt when her white-water rapid ride came to an end. He hoped that his rashness wouldn’t bite him in the ass later, but he was just glad enough that she was alive, wee wheezes and all.

   Madi, on the other hand, sure didn’t feel lively, still catching her breath after a minute, so much so that she again didn’t detect a shadow coming her way, swiftly cupping and wrapping her along with her things within an endless field of fluff. After a few seconds of flailing around, trying to keep track of her stuff including her composure, she realized that she was within a towel Although she was drier now and smelled fresh, whether she truly was or not, she still hoped it was clean and, even more, hyperventilated that she was in safe hands.

   Jake took heed to not be rowdy or rough with such a fragile item – person – in his hands, but he couldn’t hide his excitement and intrigue at the thought of doing so. Nevertheless, he figured that this must’ve been frightening or maddening for her, especially without giving her notice of anything. So, when he thought that he had done enough dampness removal, he hesitated with removing the bends of the towel that shielded her from view, shakily moving her small weight to one hand and pinching an edge of the towel with the other.

   Shaken silly in an enormous encapsulation and put somewhat under the influence of the heat and, unknowingly, the musk its core gave off, Madi had a bit of delirium when her fabric sky disappeared to reintroduce the brightness of a white-light lit room… and her handler within it. When his sizeable silhouette came into view, showing off every chiseled feature and enhancing his already bright, brown eyes and his hair of slightly darker hue, Madi wasn’t confident in whether she was alive, having only visualized people so heavenly in dreams and holy books. Plus, the warm look of awe and security he sent back down to her without saying a word, almost as if he couldn’t speak or she wasn’t worthy to hear his voice, didn’t help.

   Only when he did speak again did she, again, get shaken out of her trance back into the puzzling and perilous reality with her past emotions retiring to be replaced with something new, all from him saying one word through the plush mattresses that were his lips,

   “Hey.”

#g/t #my writing #sideline #giant male #sw #talk no jutsu

[im-not-corrupted]

Safi, No (A Witchlands Fanfiction) - Chapter Thirteen

Written with @un-empressed​, who wrote Merik’s POV!

Read other chapters here: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve 

Chapter Summary:

Vivia begins looking for theriverstix. Merik tries a little harder.

Also on Ao3!

Vivia spent the next school day after her revelation wondering who theriverstix was. Really, everyone in the school could be her online friend, and she didn't really know. The whole school knew about her pushing Corlant off a table - stuff like that got around fast - making the whole school a suspect in her search for her online friend.

'The whole school' was also incredibly hard to narrow down, especially when she didn't talk to anyone. She debated asking the Bribery and Corruption group to help her - more people would probably be better - but she wasn't sure they were close enough for her to ask.

Vaness didn't have much more luck with the search. She had asked for a link to theriverstix's profile. She checked whether the same person made an account on a different social media platform, but apparently theriverstix was non-existent on other platforms.

Vaness had told her all this that morning, with an apologetic look. "Sorry," she had said, "but I can't help you."

That had made her a little angry, but what was the point in that? Vaness had done the best she could, and Vivia knew that Vaness' 'best' was more than she could do.

Maybe theriverstix just didn't want to be found. She wasn't sure how she felt about that, but it was definitely an option. If theriverstix didn't want to be found, the chances of her doing so were slim.

It didn't make her feel very good about it all, but what could she do?

When she sat next to Stix that day, she knew she wasn't in the best mood, but not even Stix's flirting made her feel any better.

And, apparently, she was an open book, because Stix turned to her, a small frown on her face. Vivia wished she could erase it - the only expression that should ever be on Stix's face was a smile, beautiful and brilliant. "Is everything okay?" she asked her. "You haven't touched your food."

Vivia was surprised Stix noticed her barely-touched plate, and knew it was shown on her face. "Yeah!" She answered quickly. Probably too quickly, judging the way Stix's frown deepened. "Yeah, everything's fine."

"Really?"

Vivia hesitated slightly before letting out a sigh. Stix would help her, right? She seemed like someone who would. Or maybe she was just completely misjudging her. She wasn't sure, but she was willing to take that chance. "Could you help me with something?"

"Anything," Stix answered immediately.

Vivia laughed slightly. "You don't even know what it is."

"So?" Stix asked, raising an eyebrow as if to challenge her. "I will help anyway. So, what do you need help with? Because if it's math, you're screwed."

"No, no, nothing like that," Vivia replied, then took her phone out. She opened it up to the app, to the messages she shared with theriverstix. "I met someone online recently. We're close friends."

Stix nodded. "Go on."

"I - I was talking to them yesterday. And they mentioned the incident with Corlant." Vivia chewed on her lip, remembering that again. Remembering how Stix had defended her when Safi called her corrupted.

Stix's eyes widened slightly. "So this online friend goes to this school?"

Vivia nodded. "Exactly. But...I don't know who it is."

Stix nodded, a movement that seemed very forced. "And you want me to help find this person for you?"

"Yes," Vivia nodded.

Stix motioned to her phone. "Can I see the messages? Maybe it would give me a clue as to who it is."

Vivia nodded and handed Stix the phone, heart beating nervously. She wasn't sure why she was nervous, but she hadn't actually shown the messages to anyone yet, and watching Stix scroll through her phone felt like she was sharing a secret.

Well, it was a secret, wasn't it?

Stix handed her the phone back after a minute or so and gave her a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "You two seem really close."

Vivia nodded and put her phone back in her pocket. "We are," she replied. It felt strange to say - Vivia had never been that close to many people. Not even Vaness. "Will you help me?"

Stix nodded, though it seemed hesitant, even to Vivia, making her worry that maybe she was wrong, that maybe Stix wasn't going to help. But she still said, "Of course I will."

Vivia beamed and threw her arms around Stix, who returned the hug after a minute or two. "Thank you."

*

Vivia didn't get a message from theriverstix that day, which was weird. Weird, because they had made it a daily thing, talking to each other after school. Every day after school, Vivia either sent or received a message from theriverstix around 4pm without fail. Usually they talked for hours at a time, but there were times where Vivia had to study for a test or complete some homework and couldn't talk.

Other times, theriverstix offered to help her study, though they drew the line at math.

Math is my only weakness, they had said when Vivia asked. It is the only thing I cannot do.

Vivia had laughed at the time, because theriverstix felt like a person who knew everything. Her online friend often commented about random mythologies that they knew about for some reason or they sprouted some fact that Vivia had never heard of.

In hindsight, the knowledge about mythologies made sense. Vivia figured her friend had misspelt 'the River Styx' wrong when creating their account but left it there for a laugh.

It was the same as always, until it wasn't. Vivia sent a message at their usual time, glad that their time zones aligned long enough for them to talk for so long. She had sent a simple 'hey'. She didn't mention their conversation from the day before, didn't mention the search Vivia was doing to find them.

But when she didn't a reply, she sent another half an hour later. Hey, are you there? She asked, because theriverstix never took that long.

When she didn't get another reply, Vivia figured her friend was simply busy.

She sent another two messages later on - one around 6pm, another around 6:45.

Uh, hey? I figured you've been busy. Are you free now?

Hello?

She didn't want to annoy her friend anymore than she probably already had, though, so she had left it like that. She didn't leave her phone out of sight, though, and each passing second made her wonder if theriverstix was alright.

[x]

The more Merik thought about it, the more Kullen was right. And not just Kullen. Vivia too. But not Safi. That's where he drew the line. He wasn't the nicest to her, but it was a thing that happened to everyone from time to time.

And it did not warrant hiding a body, or a rumour. As much as what Ryber had said made sense, Merik still believed it was Safi who orchestrated the whole thing. She was at least involuntarily involved, Merik concluded.

She also had an awful fashion sense, though that wasn't really relevant. Merik wanted to gouge his eyes out when he saw her new jacket. It was poorly designed and gave Merik a headache. And what did "Bribery And Corruption" even mean? Merik hoped it was from some movie. Maybe she wore the jacket ironically. If she didn't, there was no way Merik could follow up on his promise to Kullen. He couldn't be nice to someone who wore that kind of clothes, he just couldn't.

And she wasn't the only one. There were a few other people around the school wearing those abominations and Merik didn't know how to feel about that. He didn't want to openly criticise them, especially since he promised Kullen he wouldn't.

Kullen didn't say anything about their conversation in the forest, but Merik could sometimes catch him and Ryber whispering to each other while looking his way. It was awfully tense whenever they did, and Merik just opted for talking to Cam most of the time. Stix basically abandoned their table, which was apparently good, because, as Kullen said, "She's doing us a favour, really. You don't want to hear her awful flirting."

Still, it would have been easier if she was there and Merik could just say it in front of all of them at lunch and avoid them for the rest of the day. Say what? He wasn't sure, but he couldn't stand not being able to talk to anyone as he usually would. It was a suffocating feeling he couldn't quite give a name to.

Yes, it would have been much, much easier to just break it to them a second before the bell rang. But Merik wasn't that lucky. Nothing was easy these days.

It still had to be done. Merik hesitated before asking his friends to come over. He stared at the send button for what must've been ten minutes before deciding it was going to happen anyway and finally pressed it.

He hesitated even more before he knocked on Vivia's door.

Merik didn't wait for her to tell him to come in. He didn't know how long he'd have to wait, because Vivia recently paid no attention to anything but her phone. They had talked more these past few days. Well, more than they did before, anyway. Their conversations were awkward, but it was a start.

"Yes?"

"Well, my friends are coming. I was wondering if you maybe wanted to meet them?" Merik didn't know why he was so nervous. Maybe because he already had a perfect opportunity to mention that he had a sister when she caused a scene in school. Kullen would definitely criticise him for that.

"Uh, sure," Vivia said. She didn't sound entirely willing to leave her phone and whoever she was texting. Merik didn't want to mention the flirty message so he wouldn't ruin the little progress they had made. He still wanted to know who it was, though. "Which friends?"

Merik found the question strange. She met Kullen once, but she didn't know any of his other friends. At least he thought she didn't. "Just a few of them. Kullen, Ry, Cam and Stix."

Vivia made a face as he was saying it. More, specifically when he said Stix. "Can't, just remembered I have history homework."

Merik could see through her lie but he let it go. Mainly because he didn't want to get yelled at. "Okay, have fun."

When he left, Merik realised he shouldn't have. Waiting alone was ruining his nerves one by one. It was the longest twenty minutes in his life before Stix came. Then Cam, and lastly Ryber and Kullen. They always seemed to go everywhere together.

The conversation Merik and Cam had (Stix was infinitely more interested in her phone) was cut short when they walked in. Or rather Merik ignored his friend's attempts to continue it.

He could feel the tension all over the room, but it seemed to be just in his head. Kullen and Ryber walked in like any ordinary day, greeting everyone else. Merik couldn't stand how the conversation in the forest didn't take over their minds as it did over his.

He got up from the couch. This wasn't the kind of conversation he could have sitting down. "You're right." Kullen raised his eyebrow and Merik sighed. "You're right. I am self-centred and I'm unpleasant to be around."

"We know we're right," Ryber said, "we just want you to do something about it. You don't get an award for acknowledging the obvious."

That didn't make Merik feel any better. He thought having this conversation would help quiet that traitorous voice in his head that insisted he was guilty. The voice was quite new to him, and Merik didn't know how to deal with it.

"Admitting that you have a problem is always a good first step to solving it," Cam said. Merik had never been more thankful for his friends. Ryber and Kullen for telling him he was wrong bluntly, and Cam for still making him feel like he wasn't a lost cause.

"And it's a really big first step considering the fact that you're you," Stix added. Merik didn't know whether to take it as a compliment or an insult.

Kullen smiled a bit. It seemed like everyone but Merik didn't feel the ever present tension. "Well, sure. I don't see why not."

That made Merik feel better. The voice in his head was still there, telling him he still didn't really do anything to confirm his words, but this time Merik could effectively shut it out.

*

Read the next chapter here: Chapter Fourteen

#The Witchlands #Fanfiction #The Witchlands Fanfiction #Truthwitch #Sightwitch #Windwitch #Bloodwitch #Witchshadow #Vivia Nihar #Vaness #Stix #Stacia Sotar #Corlant #Merik Nihar #Kullen #Ryber Fortiza #Cam Leeri #Safi No #Safi No Chapter Thirteen #There is no bribery or corruption

[sultrysirens]

Blue Blood [Mini]

Universe: Detroit: Become Human

Rating: PG-13 (swearing)

Characters: Connor, Evelyn (OC)

Summary: Connor is bored. That’s weird, right? He shouldn’t feel bored. But he was -- he was so bored...and so he decided to test himself.

Note: This snippet is between chapters 11 and 12.

--

--

--

Evelyn could’ve made an incredible criminal, Connor learned.

They spent a few hours talking about how, exactly, to get his people free of CyberLife storage and warehouses, the logistics of it, and most importantly: how to keep the two of them from being identified in the process. Since they were both officers, and specifically Evelyn a sergeant in her force, being caught up in such things would bring them both down -- hard.

Neither of them wanted that, so they were careful to construct things in a perfect way to avoid catastrophe. And while Connor would willingly and shamelessly say he was brilliant (CyberLife skimped on nothing with his features), more and more he was finding Evelyn’s insight helpful. She had two things he didn’t -- two very, very important things:

Human perspective, and experience.

He could study up on crime all he wanted, but even that wouldn’t match her decade of experience in this field. And try as he might, he’d never be able to truly envision things from a human’s perspective; their minds worked in different ways, his run by numbers and hers by sensory inputs.

While he was focused on the math involved in luring probable guards away from doors, their exact movements and schedules, she suggested scents. While he was concerned with alarm systems and erasing digital evidence, she pointed out the possibility of laying false trails. While he pondered on time, distance, and speed, she considered capitalizing on the weather.

He took great pride in knowing he thought faster than humans, that he could focus on numerous tasks at once, how he could outsmart just about anyone -- yet just talking with Evelyn proved to him that it didn’t matter how smart and capable he was. He’d always benefit from someone else’s help.

Maybe he’d let the pride get to him already, then. Infiltrating CyberLife and adjusting his plan on the fly to account for surprises had become a very powerful moment in his life, and he was a little ashamed to admit he might’ve been letting it feed his arrogance. He’d just been so successful in all that he did -- was it any wonder he’d begun soaking up the recognition and fame that came with those victories?

Forbes was proving to be a point of clarity for him, now that he’d begun to plan large events with her. She kept bringing him back from the mindset of, “I can do this, I can do anything,” to a much more manageable, “I can probably do this, but just in case...”

Considering his goal was to free possibly hundreds of androids, he appreciated that. He couldn’t risk their lives thanks to his own pride clouding his judgement.

By the end of the night they came to a singular conclusion: patience. Those androids were unlikely to wake on their own nor be moved anytime soon. They had time to work out the logistics of this plot, time to investigate and consider all angles.

Plus they had an open murder case to solve, too. That was more time-sensitive, ultimately, so the plan became to work on that first and the androids second.

Then, as time ticked away and Evelyn steadily began nodding off, she retired to bed. A part of him was frustrated by that; humans having to stop and sleep every day was such a time-killer. And though he didn’t say so aloud, he got the impression she agreed with him on that.

She commented dryly, “Time for this human to get some maintenance in.”

As she strode around the sofa, heading for her room, he quipped, “Don’t end sentences with prepositions.”

She flicked his shoulder, drawing a chuckle out of him. “Get in some maintenance, then,” she retorted, and he couldn’t quite tell if she was annoyed or just amused and pretending.

And then...he was alone again with nothing to do. And it was strange, but whereas he’d once been fine with having to wait, now he found it grating. He was...bored.

Sure, he could go into standby mode again. It was a great way to waste time. He just felt reluctant to do so, knowing that doing so will mean he’ll have spent hours unmoving, unthinking...useless. He’ll have accomplished nothing, not even basic tasks or rudimentary actions.

At a loss, he decided he may as well at least consume -- namely the media. He synced with the television and began intercepting its signals, receiving the audio and video feeds. And now that he confirmed he could do this (he hadn’t been sure), he decided to see how far he could push it. Closing his eyes, he blocked out everything external and began to test himself.

One by one, he added active channels, until he had a total of sixteen. His processors strained under this much work, largely thanks to the power required to pick up on the video feeds, so he opted not to add any more. He just flipped between the channels until he found ones that were either interesting or useful and...watched.

Seven of the channels were news stations. He recognized a few of them as national stations he’d caught in Detroit, too, the humans involved familiar. Two were international, reporting on Europe and central Asia, respectively. This was helpful in keeping him abreast of what was happening in the world, and he was pleased to find it was so easy.

There was also another surge of pride, knowing he could do this and humans couldn’t, but he tried to keep a handle on that. The last thing he wanted was to lose himself to pride and end up getting himself -- or someone else -- hurt because of it.

This could be a handy nightly routine, he mused. While Evelyn slept, he could keep an eye on the world as a whole, while simultaneously taking part in what was one of humanity’s favorite pastimes: consuming media. Films and shows passed through his mind of several differing genres, which was intentional on his part. He wasn’t sure yet what kinds of subjects he’d find enjoyable, so it was worth testing out each of them in turn.

By the end of the night, he found horror boring and romance kind of repulsive.

He suspected he just wasn’t feeling much in the way of fear, so he was missing whatever humans enjoyed when it came to horror. It didn’t help that most everything was predictable, either; the few horror films he watched had jumpscares exactly where he expected them to be, thus nullifying the effect, and he was impassive towards the gore and disturbing imagery.

....No, ‘impassive’ was the wrong word. He actually found himself analyzing it, and judging the special effects teams as a result. When a human was gutted during one film, their innards falling outwards, he couldn’t help but measure everything he saw -- the lengths of the intestines, which organs tumbled out as opposed to which actually could, even how accurate the fake blood was to actual blood.

It was when he concluded that they’d done a good job making the gory scene realistic that it hit him: he really shouldn’t watch horror films. He was only approaching them from an analytical standpoint and thus ruining the experience. He moved on from them.

Next came romance.

Maybe it was just how the romances were being portrayed in the few films he consumed, but he wasn’t seeing why humans liked it so much. It was commonly known that humans would kill and die for the kinds of relationships he was seeing, yet to him it felt hardly different from any other relationship (which, he admitted, might not mean much, as he was an outsider on the subject). Reminded that Evelyn was married and currently separated, too, supported his forming theory that it just wasn’t that good.

Yet they were clearly addicted to romance -- and sex. The latter, especially, was confusing. People commonly cheated on one another for sex, and why? From what scenes he witnessed during the course of the night (all of it softcore at most), there just didn’t seem to be that much of a reward for it. The humans in question would enjoy themselves, then move on like it hadn’t even happened.

Maybe his viewpoint was skewed, but shouldn’t they at least show some measure of lingering satisfaction? Or, given these were mostly films he was watching, were they just trimmed down for the sake of storytelling?

He probably just couldn’t comprehend it, being an android. That made sense. Resolving to ask Evelyn about it at some point (she was proving exceptionally talented at explaining things in ways he understood, as well as understanding him when he was having trouble putting his thoughts into words) he put the subject to bed.

Unsurprisingly, he was finding action and intrigue films the most palatable. Even for his high-tech and powerful mind, some of the mystery-themed films proved interesting. He mostly found himself ahead of the on-screen characters in putting puzzle pieces together, but then, he expected that was intentional. The audience was supposed to know what was happening before the characters, so they would care what happened.

But sometimes they proved unpredictable, and Connor liked that. Better yet, he found it useful; these films might mostly be invented, stories from human minds rather than actual events, but it gave him more glimpses into how the human psyche functioned.

And it was through this that he got an idea.

#siren nightshade #blue blood #mini #connor #detroit: become human #sfw #bored

[smolbeandrabbles]

Sway Pt.3 - Danny Rayburn x Reader (Bloodline)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Here / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6  / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10

Author’s Note: This is more...  set up... than anything. This was only meant to be the start of Part 3, then I had to split Part 3 into Part 3 & 4... So they’re meant to be read together... Really. Uh, The car picture is literally cuz I needed another picture, having said that your car does get an unprecedented amount of attention in this chapter. ALSO, did anyone else realize that I’ve written 2 parts to this supposed romance, but haven’t written a kiss yet!?! Let’s change that!

Disclaimer: I own nothing but “You” (Well, not you!) and my OCs. I know nothing about restaurants. Jason can now do a bit of everything because I said so. Whilst your age is never really stated I have ‘you’ at late 20s/early 30s in my head... Probably as many years between you and Danny as there is between you and Nolan (?) You’ll notice sometimes the restaurant is closed at odd times... I think Danny would sometimes choose to have half days, or days when it was open in the evening only, etc...

Premise: You get a surprise introduction to Nolan Rayburn... Danny takes you for a lunch date... I finally write an actual kiss scene! That’s it, that’s the part

Word Count: 6613 

Warnings: None? The usual Rayburn family drama... Casual swearing? Sex is mentioned fleetingly?

Someday we're gonna blink twice Say it happens like that How much money we saved up For the time that we gave up Well, it'll all just be math

I know I'm only human Don't know how many sunsets I got left And I don't wanna ruin This moment by wondering what comes next I just want to love you Like it's all I'm living for Hold you close, enjoy you more And spend a little less time keeping score

----

So can I dance with you And take a chance with you Maybe start a running through the rain romance with you Baby, catch our own little winning streak, you and me

Wednesday, 12:30pm - Viva Caputa, Miami

Javier whistled as the sleek silver Porsche rolled into the Viva Caputa parking lot; "Oy! Danny!! We’ve got company. And by company I mean biggggg spending company…!" Javi could hear Danny laugh from the kitchen "What!?" "I mean someone just pulled up in a Porsche 911…!" Javier continued cleaning glasses, lunch today wasn't slow it was just everyone in his section seemed content. The front door opened and he looked up.  She was in a casual blue and white shirt with short, but not a shade off modest, shorts. Her sandals had a small wedge heel and the bag slung over her shoulder was designer. “Amorcita!” Though true Javier had only seen her once, he felt like he knew enough about her from Danny’s constant chatter to address her so informally. It was rare Danny's love affair ever looked anything less than immaculate and even casual today was no exception. She smiled at him and leant across the counter “Hi... Is Danny in?” He whistled. “Did you just ask for Danny!? You're lucky lunch time isn't that busy today... Lemmie check!” he turned “Hey! Danny! It's been a hot-hot minute but I guess you were right! She is asking for you!” This was clearly a conversation you had missed as Danny poked his head curiously out of the kitchen window; “Y/N...! Y/N, Y/N, Y/N... Just give me two seconds...” You sat down at the bar “Am I missing something?” “No... But I am. Are you seeing each other now!?” Javier looked from the bar to the kitchen, eyebrow raised You tilted your head with a mysterious little smile “And what if we are?” “Well DAMN!” Javier put his hands on his hips “Like a serious thing? Not like a Danny thing?” “No... Like... A serious thing.” Not that you knew what a ‘Danny Thing’ was… “I thought so... The second he came in that Saturday talking about you I knew it was either going to never happen or be a serious thing. It was the WAY he talked. I've never seen Danny like that about anyone... It was nice to see...” That at least made you proud of yourself. “I’m Javier. I think you knew that… You’re clearly Y/N… It’s good to meet you… again.” You returned his greeting as he looked expectantly out of the door, and then craned around the bar you were sitting at with a huff; “What’s up?” “So, this Porsche 911 pulls up in our lot, I just want to see who's spending all the money here today. At least that’s what we’ll be hoping for.” “Oh!” You laughed “Well, you’re talking to her.” He stared at you for a good ten seconds before blinking fast; “Sorry!? What!?” He shook his head “How!?” You sighed, “Because… My last name is Ervin? I guess?” “Ervin!? Ervin! – Only a name you see on nearly every street in Miami. With the way you speak Spanish!?” “Well, it’s my dad’s mom who is Argentine. His dad is American.” “…His name is Jack.” Javier was clearly brushed up on the lofty heights of the Prime Movers in Miami real estate. “No… To blend in with his Miami high rise living his name is Jack, Jack is an adaption of John which in Spanish is Juan.” You smiled “His birth name. My mom is half-American half-Puerto-Rican. Maria Velez. Very Hispanic.” “…How come the Harrison part?” It was Danny that voiced the question, joining Javier behind the bar. “J. Harrison? He’s one of my dad’s best friends and essentially helped him build the business – his first investor. He’s responsible for the property development part. We were just going to be real estate.” “...So... not really by himself.” Danny folded his arms and his smile proved his point. “Okay, Smart-ass. But Jorge was never actually a part of the business. My dad put his name in in honour of him. So. Actually. By himself!” “EY! Like Danny and this place!” Javi jogged his friends’ shoulder “Yeah, hardly of calibre Javi, but a guy can dream!” Danny turned to you “Shouldn’t you be at work?” “I was accounting and auditing for my dad this morning. I’m heading to work after this I just wanted to stop by and say Hi. I haven’t seen you since… Last Monday.” “Hah. You’re lucky I got back alive from the Keys after that!” You leant on your elbows and smirked; “So I’m causing you trouble now?” “Well. Darlin’.” He too leant across the bar “You’re the kinda trouble I could get into.” You had a sneaking suspicion those were song lyrics. In which Javier almost burst out laughing; “God! Will you two get a room!” **

Saturday, 9pm  - Your Apartment, Uptown Miami

Thinking back to the previous Monday night almost had you in stitches. And as you recounted the scene to Amanda and Evelyn one night over glasses of wine at your apartment it all came flooding back. Amanda still lamenting, but secretly proud, that you were now indeed confirmed to be dating Danny Rayburn and Evelyn finding it hilarious that you had broken your one golden rule, but she did add ‘on a good choice.’ It had been eventful, politely so but you knew the undertones of that politeness were far from nice. Every question fielded to you and Danny were accusations, harsh, like you should both feel guilty about what you had. Even though, your parents were always quick to jump in to field them right back, you were thankful for their 12 years of experience.

John was the nicest, he wanted to know more about you, considering he’d heard a lot. It was strange, almost like he was the oldest instead of Danny, you got the feeling he was really testing if you fit well for his brother. By his tone of voice, you assumed he’d concluded you’d passed the test. His family were also the best thing about the evening. His two kids, Ben and Janey, literally wanted to know everything. But every line of questioning from them was innocent, everyone else on that table had an agenda. By no means were you treated as harshly as Danny was; which is why you started answering for him. You got the feeling they were niggling at him to make some kind of mistake. Or, for him to say something you might not like, but no one was perfect. It irked you that they would treat him like this.

When you weren’t the centre of attention and you could really focus on him, it was like the noise was completely drowned out. You were half paying attention to the conversation and followed all the cues, laughing in the right places and saying all the right filler words... But you were looking at each other more than at who was speaking. You watched his reaction to everything that was said. He could tell you a lot of things he didn’t like about his family, but his body language would have said it all for you. He was always studying you, you knew that. You weren’t sure why, you looked like you came from the same place - you guessed you just didn’t end up in the same place. There was an unspoken reason why... You would leave it to Danny to choose when would be the most appropriate time for that. At more than one point he caught your legs between his, pulling your feet to rest up on his knees he ran his fingers nonchalantly across your skin; it relaxed you, and it felt good to have that physical contact with him again.

He’d answered a bunch of your parents questions the night before, and he’d seemed to have a genuinely good time. Heck, he’d even dressed up for the occasion and brought your mom flowers and your dad a good bottle of wine from the house. It was enough. You’d all been sat there talking way into the night and you couldn’t help but think your parents might actually adore him. They told him a lot of stories about you that got almost too personal, sending you into more fits of embarrassment that had you covering your face and him laughing and taking your hands again.

Tonight, Danny was asking questions of your parents. They were good, well thought out questions you felt he’d likely been preparing nearly all day. But none of them were anything less than respectful and your parents enjoyed answering them. Keen to turn all of Danny’s talking points into conversation - and successfully - you knew then that they indeed adored him. Danny didn’t come from nothing but he had built from nothing, as they had. Your father had admiration for that and had already began to make plans concerning frequenting the restaurant. Clients of your father’s there? Danny could be no more grateful. When dinner was over and the three of you were leaving, Danny caught you by the door again, this time with a real goodnight kiss. “I’ll likely be heading off earlier than you tomorrow. So have a safe trip back.” “Yeah, and you!” You embraced him tight to you, trying to get the feeling of last night one more time. “I’ll call you, when I get back and we’ll go out...” He pondered, “doesn’t have to be a restaurant... maybe I’ll take you a little out of Miami one weekend...” “A weekend getaway? I could go for that...” “Believe you me, me too. And my staff will be more than grateful for another weekend without me!” He grinned “It’ll be good for all of us.” “Okay! I look forward to your call.” “Aw, well. I look forward to making it...” *** It wasn’t more than a few weeks later that you were sitting at home, legs swinging from a bar stool, studying some work documents on your laptop -  with Danny. He had a day off, and had finally made the trip across town (in his own car no less!) to your apartment. You could only remember him being here once before. And you remembered bringing him up here. The way he had eyed everything with more than just a little hesitation. How he’d stood by your front door for at least 5 minutes taking everything in. You understood that, you were finally introducing him to your world. Corporate city girl in her uptown Miami high-rise apartment, college degree, good job and parent’s money. Although, you yourself tried to make a good honest living on your own back, and not through your parents… It wasn’t always easy; your friends were nearly all from this fantasy land because those were the circles your family moved in. Which is why you liked places like Little Havana, and why you loved being with Danny… and his friends… who brought you back down to Earth. But you already understood that he had many years on you and all that experience… and yet his apartment was barely a third of the size of yours.

He was sat across from you drawing up some other plans for his restaurant. You’d heard him mention expanding before, but you weren’t sure how serious he was. Suddenly something in one of your work documents made you look at him; “Danny.” “Yes…” His eyes met yours, clearly grateful for conversation. “Are you Danny or Daniel?” His look said Danny… Obviously, so you clarified. “No, I mean. On your birth certificate. Were you born Danny or Daniel?” “…Daniel…” The suspicion in his voice let you know he wondered where this was going. “Daniel Rayburn… That still suits you…” “No it doesn’t.” He was dismissive. “I LIKE Daniel.” He narrowed his eyes at you, “I love Danny too! I just don’t know what is wrong with it.” He pondered this for a minute “No one has never really called me Daniel before, not even when I was in trouble… It’s strange to me…” “Daniel. It’s nice.” You tried it out again. His expression changed and you knew he was trying desperately hard not to smile; “…Well… I like the way you say it…” You looked back to your laptop with a giggle “Alright. Smooth talker… Daniel what? Daniel… Rayburn… What is your middle name?” He hesitated and his face fell… He bit his lips together and you knew that he wasn’t going to be forthcoming with the information. You guessed that could mean one thing; he was the eldest son. If his family was as super traditional as you guessed they were, then that would mean his middle name was his father’s name. And from what you knew about his relationship with his father, he would rather forget it. “What’s your middle name?” His question threw you off, but you still told him no hesitation. “… Y/N… M/N… Ervin.” He nodded, but it wasn’t in satisfaction – he was asking just because you had, you supposed. “…It’s your dad’s name. Isn’t it?” Part of you didn’t mean to say it out loud, but you had. “Daniel Robert Rayburn.” He sounded bitter as he looked to the table. You took a breath, determined to get that smile you loved so much back; “So…. Danny.” He looked back to you, to that look in your eyes that said the conversation was over. Period. “Yeah. So, Danny... but who knows...” and he smiled that beyond adorable crooked smile he had “...Maybe I’ll let Daniel stick.”

 ***

Friday, 3pm - Viva Caputa, Miami “So what do you think?” Danny had his hand poised over the piece of paper, permanent marker held purposefully in his left hand. “You need to stop asking me about your restaurant.” “I just… the menu needs sprucing up and YOU’RE the business woman!” “You’re the chef!” “Yeah so…!” He waved his hand at the dishes he’d just made you try “…Make some executive decisions, I’ve DONE my work!” “Well, shouldn’t it be based on what you like…!” He sighed and put his head in his hands “Yeah, I like it all. That’s why I made it. You’re the customer, which ones.” “All is off the table then?” “Y/N! I asked you because I expect you to be able to tell me which ones are best, you can certainly tell me when you don’t like it!” “Well, I like all of these.” “If you HAD to!” “I’m not even sure I’m your optimal audience.” You weren’t sure if you liked the next look he gave you or not, he took a sharp inhale of breath; “I don’t know. Young professional, 30-something, brunch-time, female. Good group of friends. Good family life. GREAT social life.” He pointed his pen at you “BETTER sex life.” “My god.” You almost turned away from him at that. “Actually has a decent set of taste buds – will you just CHOSE!” “Are all these young professionals also in a relationship?” “…Oh…” he folded his arms and leant back against the kitchen counter “Is that what this is!?” he raised an eyebrow expectantly. “Don’t you DARE Daniel Rayburn!” “Oh god! Now I’m in trouble!” He sent his eyes heavenwards “Daniel… Honestly…” “Damn right you’re in trouble…” You smiled and turned back to the set of meticulously thought out dishes in front of you… He knew you weren’t good at deciding, so you weren’t even sure why he wanted you to do this. You were also big on sweet things… and Danny wasn’t really that kind of cook. “…Okay… Let me think about this from a menu planning stand point…” “Finally she’s talking my language…” “What are we taking off?” “Anything similar or isn’t selling well.” “What in this establishment doesn’t sell well!?” “Oh there’s a few things I can cut in favour of these.” “What if these don’t sell well.” “Guess I’ll have to fire my consultant.” He smiled across at you. You stared at each of them hard in turn and Danny tapped the pen against the paper again in anticipation. “Okay. These.” You pointed four out and then looked to him to see if he agreed with your decision. His smile was teasing and he still hadn’t put pen to paper yet; “Are you sure?” “DANNY!” “I mean are you reaaaaally sure?” “STOP IT!” He laughed, and began writing; “Geez, when this restaurant goes under I’m going to look right back to this moment…” You smacked his arm as he continued laughing and began writing out menu descriptions “…Fancy my consultant killing my business…” “Girlfriend.” You pouted; “Well.” He lent across the counter and leant on his hands “I’m starting to think she’s a little more than that…” “Danny…” You could felt yourself heat up again as he stared at you, and that crooked little smirk happened across his face “Don’t worry Y/N I’m not about to get down on one knee or anything!” That only made your cheeks flush more. He shook his head and closed the gap between the two of you with a sweet kiss; “Dammit you look so good when you get all flustered.” “Well you can only thank yourself!” Your eyes were still wide at the thought of Danny EVER proposing to anyone, let alone you. “I do on multiple occasions, you just don’t always hear it.” He winked, looking proud of himself, before he kissed you gently again. And then you both heard the restaurant door open – which you thought was odd because no one was due in until Danny started up for dinner tonight.

 “DAD!” “SHIT.” Danny pulled away from you suddenly and a look crossed his face you didn’t quite understand; “Shit. I forgot. Shit. God…” He started towards the doors quickly, then at the last second he turned back “Stay here!” This all happened very fast and left you blinking and trying to get a grip on what was going on… DAD!? You waited a few seconds, before curiosity got the better of you and you’d deal with Danny’s potential anger later. Hopping off the stool you padded over to the kitchen window – the door was of course just out of sight – which is where they were both talking; “…So I figured you’d be here…” “Yeah, I… I’m sorry I forgot. It won’t happen again.” “Yeah, I’m sure mom would love that.” “You didn’t TELL her?!” “No. I came straight here… I tried calling though.” “Dammit. My phone’s in my locker.” “You don’t open for hours. What are you doing here?” “Putting together new menu pieces… actually.” “Why? What’s wrong with the menu?” You looked to the kitchen door… deeply curious. That was not the voice of some little kid either. You walked over to the kitchen door and pushed it open gently. Maybe you could be inconspicuous about this… You nearly rounded the corner to the main restaurant when you realised Danny was facing away from you. Stopping just short, you poked your head around the corner. He was a lot older than just a kid, possibly a high school teenager. Black hair, piercings, jewellery, black jeans and over-shirt over shirt (Well. He probably got that from his father.) – Danny had a son? Why had Danny never told you this?! Was it an age gap thing?! You got caught up in your own worries just watching this kids’ interactions with Danny. “…You’ve got keys to the apartment; just go back I’ll finish up here and come back. If you’ve got home work...” “Well, I could just wait in the car… It’s a bit of a trek, Dad.” “…Yeah okay… Sure… I’ll have to get my car keys… It’ll take me about 10-20 max. I’m sorry, I should have been there… I really should have…” “It’s okay… It happens, I knew you’d probably be here when you didn’t answer the phone and…” The teen trailed off as he realised you were standing there… His eyes went wide and his mouth made the OH! that didn’t actually come out. Danny turned to see what he was looking at and for once, for once in his life he actually looked scared – it was a flicker and it came and it went but he looked scared – then stoic, then his kid started up; “Oh-! Oh-! I uh-! I- I can leave--!” “NO! NO!” Danny was on it, quick as a shot “NO! Nolan! You’re not going anywhere! It’s okay! It’s not--! I just--! Give me a second here to explain! I just---!” he put his hands on Nolan’s shoulders “Just, please, just wait a second…!” He turned back to you, now looking between them. You were making a lot of guesses about what young Danny would have looked like based on this teen. No doubt he was Danny’s son. He looked back to Nolan “Just. Wait here. Please.” “O-Okay…” Danny kept his hands on him for a few more seconds and once he was assured Nolan wasn’t going anywhere, he crossed back to you – grabbing your arm he pulled you back around the corner forcefully; “WHAT DID I JUST SAY!” No doubt he was angry, because he’s SCARED! you realised, he wasn’t shouting at you either “You told me to stay where I was.” You pointed behind you “That’s hardly the point Danny! Why didn’t you TELL me!” “Because you’re going to do EXACTLY what everyone else does!” “…” you dropped your accusational stance and almost took a step back “…Oh…my…You think I’m going to LEAVE!?” You kept your voice to the same whispering level he was at. “… Well, yeah, at this point I kinda expect it.” “Well then none of those girls was any good for you!” Upon realising you had actually taken a step back you took one forward again and took his face in your hands “Danny I DON’T care!” “You’re saying that NOW.” “No. I’m gonna mean it, I’m not saying it’s not going to take time…” You leant so you could just about see around the corner… Danny followed your lean. Nolan had seated himself nervously at one of the tables, tapping his foot and biting his lips together. See, he even had his father’s nervous habits. “…What happened?” “Y/N…That is a long story I don’t want to drag you into.” “Tough. I’m in it… His name is Nolan?” “Yes.” “Well, I’ll say this is a bit of a shock for both of us…” “Probably.” You flicked your eyes back to him; “And you’re scared we’re both about to walk out that front door.” “That’s my life.” You hated the way he said it; guilt flooded his voice & his eyes like every bad thing that had ever happened to him was his fault. “…I mean I knew you had something… All those moving boxes in your apartment told a story… I’m just not sure this is what I expected.” You pushed your head gently against Danny’s chest and wound your arms around him; as if to prove you weren’t going anywhere “…We can talk about this later… But…Danny…” You waited for him to wind his arms around you too, still watching his kid; before turning back to you at the sound of his name. You leant up, and brushed your lips against his; “…That’s going to stop being your life. Right now.” You untangled yourself from him and walked back out into the restaurant with purpose; “Y/N!!! Wait--!” He placed his hands over his face; he couldn’t watch! Oh God! What had he done!? You approached the table with confidence and a smile. Although, by the time he looked up you were pretty much at it; “Hi...! Nolan, right?” He looked at you with shifty eyes, never quite actually looking at you... “Yeah...” It was a start. “I'm Y/N... It’s nice to meet you!” You held out your hand, whether he decided to take it was up to him but you were determined to make all the right moves. He was a teenager, and like you, he'd clearly just met someone he didn't know about nor was intended to be met (at least for the time being). He took it, but he still wasn’t looking at you. “Do you mind if I..?” though, you weren't sure what you were going to do if he said No. He nodded, so you took a seat opposite him. Things were quiet for a minute, to his left was a pile of school text books, which piqued your interest. But you would leave that for a moment. You folded your hands in front of you “I'm sure this is about as strange for you as it is for me...” You gave a shrug, “Maybe it’s better to be thrown into it. Though…” You gave a warm smile; “Ah. The days of high school.” He squinted at you like he wasn’t sure of your game plan. “I can’t wait to leave.” “Trust me, we all say that until we do…!” God knows you’d wanted to leave school, only to give anything to be back once real work started… You looked back to his books; “Music? Aha! You inherited the creative gene! That’s good!” He still seemed confused by your voice, because you sounded genuinely interested in him. “…Yeah – My mom is a singer… so…” “Really!?” “Yeah, she has an album…” Danny…! Danny!! “That’s really cool!” You didn’t care if he appreciated your enthusiasm or not, but nothing about it was fake. You wanted to know as much about Danny’s son as you could… and that was really cool. “Do you play? Does she…?” “She does… I don’t, yet… Guess I could learn.” Then he tilted his head “Do you?” You laughed; “I was not really blessed with too much creativity. I mean I tried, back in high school… I have more of a… business logic!” “Oh?” He made the same face Danny made when his brain started piecing the picture together. But that tone let you know you weren’t what he expected. Maybe that was your age… or the way you looked? Kevin had already made comment enough to make you think Danny was into younger women… Maybe he was also into a certain type of woman? Didn’t you exactly fit the bill? “Yeah. Consultancy…” You gave a shrug like you were talking about boring adult stuff and leant into the conversation “Do you cook too?” “Oh. No, we don’t learn that.” “Guess you don’t need school to teach you!” He looked a little unconvinced of that… So, you nodded back to his books; “Spanish though… Are you forced to take that or did you choose to?” His eyes widened. Ah-ha! Wasn’t expecting the language change up. “OK – I didn’t understand half of what you just said but you’re-!” “Quarter Argentinian, Quarter Puerto Rican. Yeah! Interesting Mix!” You smiled “You’ll understand in no time!” “Showing off, are we?” “He’s taking Spanish. I figure I’d make myself useful..!” You winked, welcoming Danny to the conversation. Nolan looked across to his dad; “So, are you dating-dating?” Danny nodded “Yeah…” “And where did you meet her?” “Uh… on a dancefloor… In Little Havana.” The teen rolled his eyes like that was typical, then looked to you; “Well I’m sorry.” You tilted your head as a question; why? He grinned, then laughed “That you’re dating my dad!” That made you burst into laughter too, and Danny just sighed; “OH yeah. You two will get on just fine!” ***

 Tuesday, 1:30pm - Downtown Miami

Three days after you’d been introduced to Nolan you got a single word email. “Lunch?” You raised an eyebrow. Couldn’t he have text you that? After you told him that’d be nice he gave you a time and place and you drove down to the little cafe. “A lunch date Mr.Rayburn? I’m honoured.” “And not in my restaurant!” He was leaning with one arm over the back of his chair “Are you impressed?” It was a bright sunny day, and he had seated you outside. “Surprised!” You smiled, pulling out a chair you sat opposite him. You received an up and down look to your figure-hugging pencil skirt, high heels and shirt; “Stripes?! Again? You do know other patterns exist in this world Y/N?” He tapped out his cigarette “... not that you don’t look great! Of course you do!” “Are you calling me out?” “Why? Is that your wardrobe?” “Yeah Alright Mr.Button-Up-Shirt-Over-Shirt. You don’t see me complaining.” Well, that is what he was wearing. He laughed “Ha… Yeah… Well that’s… Ok.” He smiled “Never say anything about a girls fashion sense… huh?” You winked “Something like that.”

Placing your bag over the back of your chair you flicked through the menu “The email was a nice touch… Very 1999. Couldn’t you have just text me?” He rolled his eyes at your jab, but was confident he was about to get another; “Aw. Naw. I don’t text. It’d take me 45 minutes!” He waved the flip phone in your face, making you laugh “Yeah. I still can’t believe I’m calling something from the middle ages! Get on the level Danny!” You indicated to your smartphone. “Well we aren’t all wealthy heiresses driving Porches!” “Please!” You folded your arms “I hope my parents leave me with nothing! They deserve to spend it all! …And your family isn’t exactly broke.” He snorted “HA! As if I’m seeing a penny of that…!” He leant around the table to study your outfit again, taking the opportunity of the waiter taking your order to change the subject “…Anyway… What is it that you do to get dressed up like that?” You leant on your hand and smiled, “Manage a team. It’s consultancy… Mostly financial, not always. My dad asks me to do a bunch of his financials, for example. Sometimes it’s just advice.” “Oh. Business consultancy, I see.” You could see the small smug smirk at how he’d called you his consultant back at his restaurant and you actually were one. “Yeah. And I got this without help, CV and interview like everyone else… Could have worked for my dad. Decided against it.” “Sure the name didn’t hurt.” “Maybe. But the point is – I still got it the old fashioned way…” “Didn’t fancy going more science based? Like your mom?” “No. Too much of a business head apparently. And creativity. No kind of logical sense… And I panic too much! I’d be no good at that.” “Does she work at Mercy?” “Occasionally now. She used to. No, she’s at a drug rehabilitation clinic. And she’s GOOD at her job. You should hear some of those stories.” You figured they’d rival Danny’s “…From time to time she helps my dad when it gets real busy…” You gave a shrug, that was your family “…So, anyway, why invite me for lunch!?” “I just wanted to apologise.” “For what? You’re buying me lunch to apologise?” “For Nolan.” Then he re-clarified “Well not FOR Nolan... for not telling you about Nolan.” “Don’t worry. I get it. I’m glad I met him, he’s a nice kid.” You were quick to wave off his apology. “You think?” “Yeah.” His question was pointless, you knew Danny knew that. The three of you had spent hours talking before the restaurant opened, and then when Danny had to start work you stayed to talk to Nolan, including starting some basic Spanish tutelage. You thought maybe he might like you a little too… But he was a teen, so goodness knows what was going on in his head really. “How often do you see him?” “Uh... well... when I can.” “You don’t have an arrangement?” “I’m not very good at that. The only reason he turned up Friday is cuz I forgot about picking him up, see? I’ve had pretty bad arguments with his mom... like not speaking for two years arguments ... there’s no arrangement, I’d screw it up.” “Well. If ever you decide otherwise. I think it’d be pretty cool to see him again and hang out.” He laughed at your enthusiasm, but marvelled at your insistence, you genuinely wanted to get to know his kid...Hell, not even his family really knew Nolan existed... If only he could guarantee they’d all react like you. He already knew how his parents felt, and that was enough for him not to try. With you though, he would – and he had a feeling from what Nolan had already told him, that his son was more than willing to try with you too.

*** You had a spare few minutes between clients and would be passing near enough past Viva Caputa as it was, so you decided to pay Danny a quick visit. Since you’d been taking clientele there – you trusted Danny and his team with your literal livelihood – and your parents had also swung by a couple of times, you’d got to know the team pretty well. Javier always insisted on dragging you into his section, when Nolan wasn’t working… Because occasionally Nolan would pop up at the restaurant, and you took this opportunity to get to know him better. Jason was like Danny’s right hand man in the kitchen and when Danny was with you, Jason kept everything running straight. He was vastly upgraded from being the pâtissier he was supposed to be, but flat out refused to be called the sous chef. Often accompanied by the phrase C’mon Dan! I’m not good enough to be your right-hand man and you know it! When you pulled up today, Jason and Danny were in the lot already on smoke break. You rolled your eyes – that could have been a good thing, however, as that meant you wouldn’t have to go inside because Javi would keep you talking for hours… “Hey Darlin’! Lunch on us again!” Jason joked, stepping forward to hug you; “G’damn would you look at this?! How much did that set you back!?” He studied your car “No. I’m between clients; this is a whistle stop visit. But when I’m drivin’ by there is no way I CAN’T pull up to see you guys... And more than I’m willing to admit! It’s just so I can pull up at clients and look like I make that much…” He raised an eyebrow like he wasn’t believing your explanation for either thing; “Yeah yeah... I know what you’re really here for!” He grinned and turned back to Danny, who was leaning against the wall watching you “…I mean I don’t begrudge you that. But I saw him first!” “Oh! Is THAT how it is!?” You smacked the top of Jason’s arm playfully “What? Do I have to fight you for him now?” “Oh! No! Only for his affection!” Jason winked “I mean, you can have him to be honest, I’m not sure I could stand much more than I already get!” He said it loud enough for Danny to chuckle; “Alright asshole! Back in the kitchen!” “Awww! Danny!!! C’mon!” Danny indicated to his cigarette “You’re done. Back in! Before it becomes chaos!” Jason took one last drag before laughing and stubbing it out, turning back to you “Or I’ll trade Danny for your car…” he squinted at the vanity plate “Ervin 911? Were the other 910 taken!?” He snickered to himself, making you roll your eyes. He knew it was a 911, so the joke was pointless; “Well my dad has every version going. Ervin 1, Ervin II – Roman Numerals – and even E-R-V-1-N… Think I should have joined a police academy really…” He laughed at your joke this time, “Alright! Good one…!” then looked back over his shoulder at Danny, who was looking a little impatient, tapping his foot against the wall; “…It’s good to see you, if only for a fleeting moment! Don’t be a stranger!” “Never!” You hugged him back, “Say Hi to Javier! But not right away or I’ll never get to my next meeting on time.” “Or you’ll just NEVER get there… Danny would be ok with you sticking around though. Distracting his staff!” You faked shock; “I do not!” “Yeah, we get told off for it too!” “Jason!” He pointed back at Danny’s call as if to prove his point, then walked back towards the doors, adding before he headed inside; “…Danny, the kitchen IS always Chaos!” “…Organised Chaos!” Danny called after him and you heard Jason’s laugh “Is that what you call it!” He stepped away from the wall, cigarette in hand “You couldn’t have timed this any better! Do you really only have five minutes?” You checked your watch “Could stretch it to 8…? I guess… I’m not too far away. But I do like to be prompt!” He gave a small shrug and put the cigarette to his lips “Can’t say I don’t try to make you stay. No, it’s good of you to come see us!” “I love seeing you guys. They are GREAT guys.” “I got very lucky with all of them… Absolutely…” He looked to the ground for a minute, thoughtful “I mean… I got lucky with you too…” “Danny…” “No honestly…!” He stopped you, “You have no idea.” You folded your arms and bit your lip, almost bashful. That just made him smile. “You’re doing it again… You keep hiding yourself from me. I don’t know why… We’re not in the Keys anymore.” You let yourself smile but looked to the floor, twisting your fingers together as you unlocked your arms; “The Key’s was YOU.” “Baby girl…” He made your shiver as he said it, “The Keys was my family. I’d much rather be up here with you and you know it. Besides, if your parents were makin’ the case… I think I’m pretty good.” “Good? My parents LOVE you. I’ve never seen them like this over a guy before…” He laughed “Never thought I’d hear that from anyone… let alone the daughter of one of the wealthiest men in Miami.” You hushed him, whether it was true or not your father never acted that way. He refused to. He might have had a plethora of vehicles… buildings he owned… investments he’d made in a million different kinds of things… But your parents lived in a humble house in a good neighbourhood. And you had always asked them NOT to give you money. Because you wanted people like Danny in your life, and if you had been any different, you dreaded to think what you would be missing out on. “…My background doesn’t matter. ALL I want is you… And I don’t want anything else to matter but that.”   He dropped his cigarette and put it out with one swift movement of his foot. You had to go, he knew that. But you still stood for a few moments more in silence. So he became decisive and grabbed your hand, pulling you into him he placed his lips on yours and wound his arms around you. He tasted like smoke and cooking spices. You took a breath, he smelt like cooking, like home, and a billion memories of both your childhood with your mom and your time spent with him; each one of them good… But the undertone of that was his cologne - Danny didn’t bother with that often, he wasn’t that kind of man – left over on his skin probably from your last date night. Everything about him when he kissed you screamed summer night; as the sunset and the day just started to cool off. You could see it in your head vividly, because that was the exact scenario you wanted to be in with him every moment he had his lips on yours. He left you slowly, letting the kiss linger, his intense eyes burned into yours “…Ace that meeting.” He left you breathless. Every. Single. Time. Your voice mimicked that of the first time you’d called him soft and almost timid and that was all him; “…I will now…”

---

@stcphstrange - Just gonna tag you in all of these now 😊😉

#danny rayburn x reader #Bloodline #Danny Rayburn #Ben Mendelsohn #Danny Rayburn x You #Danny x Reader #Sway #Linzi Writes #Getting myself a new tag to keep all my writing together...! #Are we going to end all parts with a GIF now? Yeaaaaahhhhh #Liliana #3

[withloveishi]

Why Oriental-Flavored Top Ramen Scares Me (A Japanese-American’s View of Weebs)

Right out of the gate, this is no hit piece on weebs. I’m not trying to bully or belittle any particular person. This post (like all of my posts) is not intended to elicit pity or put weebs in their place. In fact, at the end of it all, I sort of admire weebs for embracing a lifestyle that gets frequently bullied and made fun of. As cringe as they are, most of them are normal people that have an obsession with something, just like all of us. This is (not) simply my view on the effect weeb culture has had on me (a culturally confused kid) throughout my life.

As an explanation for the title, I call anyone who does not ethnically identify with that ethnicity, but is obsessed with the culture of that ethnicity “Oriental Flavored Top Ramen”. Sounds extremely Asian, looks sorta off, and at the end of the day, tastes like some wet noodles in lukewarm yellow salt water. I wanted to find a sort of umbrella term for this group of people that wasn’t so specific to just Japanese culture, that could be applied to any other culture, but I don't know how much I succeeded.

I guess this post has been a long time coming. I’ve always expressed an odd opinion (let’s go with that) towards the the weeb community. And most of the time, it’s not that I’m disgusted, or don’t think they should exist. It’s that I feel threatened.

Now you must be asking yourself, what about weebs are threatening? Really at the end of it all, it’s just slightly cringe people who enjoy Japanese culture a lot. But that’s exactly my problem: they enjoy Japanese culture… more than me… an actual Japanese person.

Before anyone tries to reassure me that I will always be Japanese because that’s my blood or whatever, just hear me out. My ethnicity and culture have always been a bumpy road for me, either keeping them at arm's length or embracing it so hard people start thinking I’m a weeb. And as much as I want to end this post on some sort of morally fulfilling note, I can’t do that. I don't even have my own shit figured out. But I will do my best to explain my perspective and show what I’ve done to become this fucked up (because that’s not apparently clear to people already).

So where were we. Oh yeah, why weebs scare me. All of my cultural and ethnic insecurity sort of roots from the beginning. I was never brought up on a really solid Japanese basis. My mom (who’s Filipino) and dad both spoke english to me, we grew up in the middle of a predominantly white and affluent community, and never really bothered to learn Japanese from anyone in my family to the point where I could carry a fluent conversation. According to some of my friends, I grew up being a white-washed asian. However, growing up, I didn’t understand that one could be more or less Asian than another Asian person. It was a simpler time. On the more cultural side, I never watched anime or listed to J-Pop in my free time. I grew up watching things like Spongebob and listened to Avril Lavigne (because yes, I was that white washed). Being in elementary school, no one gave a shit, so naturally, I didn’t give a shit. No one ever called me out on my Asianess. I was never the token Asian who suddenly became the encyclopedia for all things Japanese, or was the translator for that one Japanese line that popped up on a stolen stock image by the teacher (yes all these things happened). I could just be that asshole in the room who flipped her hot pencils paper over really loudly to let everyone know that she was done (even though literally no one asked). I didn’t really start feeling really shit about my cultural identity until high school.

Unfortunately, my high school experience consisted of a slew of white people trying to one up me in my Japaneseness (is this a word?). It started with my freshman year world history teacher asking me what kind of tigers were the most predominant in Japan in the 20’s, then telling me that my ancestors did the rape of Nanking, followed by a race presentation by two white students about how to handle confrontations about race properly, most epically concluded by my junior year U.S. history teacher who tried to teach Japanese to me, school me on the basic principles of Shinto religion, and made a race joke about Japanese internment. Yes, all these things happened. And if you think I’m just pointing out small jokes my teachers were trying to make, let me be frank: I’m not.

While these instances of race in classroom did shake me up a little, nothing ever proved to me that any of these people were more Japanese than me. Therefore, I shrugged them off as what I call “assholes”. However, as these incidents began occurring more frequently, there was also an emergence of a group I had never noticed before. They called themselves “weebs”.

NOTE: It sorta sounds like I’m taking about “weebs” as a population of observational Japanese snow monkeys, but I just don't want to refer to one person, because everyone made me feel a different way.

At first, I was just like “Ah, it’s a little cringy but otherwise, pretty harmless”. I didn’t mind hanging around them or talking to them. But as I got to know more and more weebs, I started to really feel uncomfortable. At first, I just thought it was the overwhelming amounts of cringe hitting me at a high velocity, but overtime, it became more than just uncomfortable.

Remember when I was talking about how the Japanese culture was never really enforced on me as a child? How I grew up a “white-washed asian”? Well, weebs were like the complete opposite. They weren’t born into this culture, but were for some reason obsessed with the Japanese culture. It was like they wanted to be more Japanese than me. They weren’t born into a culture where anime and Jpop were the gravitational leisure activities, yet they still embraced it like I was expected to. I began to feel threatened by them culturally. Every rational neuron in my brain was slowly discrediting me a real Japanese American. My reasoning for this went something like, “They probably know more about Japanese culture than me, speak and write more Japanese than me, and want to know more than I do”. And the more and more I thought about this, the more it made sense to me. I mean if we really think about it, I look (pretty) Japanese, but now barely speak the language and hate watching most anime and reading manga. A weeb, on the other hand, looks nothing like a Japanese person, yet, is dying to learn Japanese fluently, wants to live in Japan, and probably has watched every episode of Naruto and Jojo. This thought freaked me out, but essentially left me feeling two ways:

Angry because of all the bullshit I had endured throughout high school from teachers because I looked Japanese. Weebs, even though more knowledgeable than me on everything Japanese, were never asked what fucking tigers existed in Japan in the 20’s, were never taught how to speak improper Japanese from a gross white man; basically never had to endure the stupid bullshit racism I endured my entire entire high school career and be embarrassed in front of the class, all because they never looked Japanese. There was always this joking expectation, especially in high school, that because I was Japanese, I had to out-Japanese anyone else. For example, if someone had watched the latest episode of Naruto I had to have already watched it. While it sounds ridiculous in retrospect, living and experiencing it felt quite different.  

On the other hand, confused, because I now had no stake over my own identity.  Could I even call myself Japanese American, even though it was only my skin that really was the only thing Japanese about me. With a lot of my American-born Chinese (ABC) or Korean-American friends, they grew up speaking their parents language, becoming fluent in it, as well as celebrating all the traditional holidays their parents celebrated back home. They were the ones that called me white-washed.

It was truly an unnerving time in my life, and I’m still sort of living in it. I’m not really quite sure where I fit in. Yes, I call myself Japanese-American (hence, the title of this blog post), purely on the basis of my heritage, and my skin. However, all the filler information that we use to really validate someone as a “real Asian” is still up for debate in my mind. Even in college, there’s still this dissatisfaction with how much I haven’t embraced my Japanese cultural identity. After living with this expectation over my head, I don’t know how to break out of it fully. Whenever people confront me about my cultural identity in college, I become insecure and defensive, because I’m too scared to confront it in front of people with expectations of who I am. I don’t think I’ll ever come to terms with my ethnicity. I’ll always be in this constant push and pull with myself over what really validates me a Japanese-American. If I learned to speak the language confidently, or watched more anime, would that make me more closely Japanese, or would that be a pathetic attempt to prove my worth as a person of Japanese culture. Where does the “You must be this Asian to enter” line exist on the spectrum of race? Is there even one?

I guess all I need to do is become good at math, learn Japanese fluently, pass the level 1 Kanji test, live in Japan, and force myself to watch every episode of Naruto and Jojo. Because once I do, it’s over for you weebs.

[douchebagbrainwaves]

THE COURAGE OF PERSON

So don't be demoralized by how hard it is to believe now, the big money then was in banner ads. Companies ensure quality through rules to prevent employees from screwing up.1 Too much money seems to be a bunch of guesses, and guesses about stuff that's probably not your area of expertise. Sometimes inexperienced founders mistakenly conclude that manipulating these forces is the essence of fundraising. But that's not how any of the specific heresies it sought to suppress.2 For example, at the high water mark of political correctness, because it enabled one to attack the phenomenon as a whole without being accused of whatever heresy is contained in the book or film that someone is trying to censor. Time after time VCs invest in startups founded by eminent professors. So don't even try to bluff them.3 Since we all agree, kids see few cracks in the view of the world.4 At every point in history, our moral map almost certainly contains a few mistakes. There are two things you have to worry about.

But boy did things seem different. I was doing: sketching.5 The first time I visited Google, they had about 500 people, the same term was used for both products and information: there were distribution channels, and TV and radio channels. We tend to regard all judgements of us as the first type. That's ultimately what drives us to work on something interesting with people I like.6 The view of history we got in elementary school. The average startup probably doesn't have much to show for itself after ten weeks.7 Relentlessness wins because, in the sense that it sorted in order of how much money should they take and what kind of software that makes money and the kind that's interesting to write, and Microsoft's first product was one, in fact, but no one will work on a harder problem unless it is proportionately or at least log n more rewarding. The ideas that come to mind first will be driven by ambition: self-consciously cool person wanted to differentiate himself from preceding fashions e. Not likely. This applies to dating too. When there's something we can't say that are true.8

Related fields are where you go to college. It's a lot harder to create something people love and figure out how to connect some company's legacy database to their Web server. It's true they have a lot of people think they're too young to start a company to do something they don't want to take responsibility for telling 22 year olds to become mothers.9 But they work as if they had.10 And since success in a startup depends so much on motivation, the paradoxical result is that scientists tend to make their offices less sterile than the usual cube farm. So how can I claim business has to learn it? Then if things work out you can be pleasantly surprised. There is a threshold you cross. Usually their motives are mixed.11

So your site has to say Wait! I like. The best was that the three-month batch format, which we were forced into by the constraints of the summer, turned out to be 13: Pick good cofounders.12 The list of what you can't ask in job interviews is now so long that for convenience I assume it's infinite. When I left high school I was, I thought, a complete skeptic.13 The problem with the facetime model is not just that hackers understand technology better, but that you can stop judging them and yourself by superficial measures, but that they're driven by more powerful motivations.14 Last year one founder spent the whole first half of his talk on a fascinating analysis of the limits of the conventional desktop metaphor.15 Disasters are normal in a startup: a founder quits, you discover a patent that covers what you're doing, and b any business model you have at this point is probably wrong anyway. Backing off can likewise prevent ambition from stalling.16 Not intelligence—determination. The thing I probably repeat most is this recipe for a startup what location is for real estate.17 Sometimes judging you correctly is the end goal.

I found to my surprise that I was interested in AI a hot topic then, he told me I should major in math. Like open source hackers, bloggers compete with people working for you have to worry about novelty as professors do or profitability as businesses do. When I say business doesn't know this, I mean the structure of business doesn't reflect it. You learn to paint mostly by doing it, and gradually beat it into shape. I repeat is to give people everything you've got, right away. Subtract one from the other, and the most common reason they give is to protect them.18 Why didn't anyone think of that. A suburban street was just the right size.

Another way to be good. And Hewlett-Packard. In fact most aren't. Was it because the founders were bad at presenting, or because they're a way to work faster.19 The biggest fear of investors looking at early stage startups is that there is even something of a fashion for it in some places. I suspect the only taboos that are more than taboos are the ones likely to succeed in a startup.20 You don't need to. But more people could do it than do it now. There are worse things than seeming irresponsible. 2 2 is 5, or that we'd meet them again.21

So they invested in new Internet startups. Except our choices are immediately and visibly tested. We have some evidence to support this. So for all practical purposes, there is nothing so wrong as the principles of the most valuable things you could do in college. And since most of what big companies do is boring, you're going to stick around no matter what, they'll be more likely to get money. The median visitor will arrive with their finger poised on the Back button.22 The cubicles were full of programmers writing code, product managers thinking about feature lists and ship dates, support people yes, there were actually support people telling users to restart their browsers, and so on.

Notes

Well, of course, that alone could in principle 100,000 computers attached to the yogurt place, we found they used FreeBSD and stored their data in files. Or more precisely, investors treat them differently.

But the most recent version of everything was called the option pool as well, since human vision is the desire to do good work and thereby subconsciously seeing wealth as something you can control. I preferred to call them whitelists because it is. In either case the money is in the field.

It would be to say because most of his first acts as president, and instead focus on the other sense of not starving then you should be asking will you build this? I mean by evolution.

Unless we mass produce social customs. You should always get a sudden drop-off in scholarship just as on a scale that Google does. But the most abstract ideas, they tend to be low.

He couldn't even afford a monitor.

Thanks to Daniel Sobral for pointing this out.

A scientist isn't committed to is following the evidence wherever it leads. I learned from this that most people will give you money for other people think, but since it was 94% 33 of 35 companies that got bootstrapped with consulting. Mehran Sahami, Susan Dumais, David Heckerman and Eric Horvitz. Most new businesses are service businesses and except in rare cases those don't involve a lot on how much they liked the iPhone SDK.

For more on not screwing up. They have no idea what most people realize, because what they're really saying is they want it. One-click ordering, however, you can talk about the qualities of these people.

They may not be far less demand for unskilled workers, and there are certain qualities that some groups in America consider acting white. One sign of the things you like a headset or router. He made a lot of detail. People were more the aggregate are overpaid.

Obviously, if an employer.

And the expertise and connections the founders want to take board seats by switching to what you call the years after Lisp 1.

Some founders deliberately schedule a handful of lame investors first, and no one who's had the discipline to pull it off. Or a phone that is exactly my point. There's not much to say that was killed partly by its overdone launch. Cook another 2 or 3 minutes, then their incentives aren't aligned with some equivocation implying that you're small and then just enjoy yourself for the spot, so the best approach is to say that a company tuned to exploit it.

Advertisers pay less for ads in free publications, because any invention has a spam probabilty of. Put in chopped garlic, pepper, cumin, and Smartleaf co-founder before making any predictions about the origins of the products I grew up with an online service, and one didn't try to make money from writing, he found himself concealing from his predecessors was a good product. What you learn in college. It did.

This is, it would take Abelson and Sussman's quote a number here only to the option of deferring to a can of soup. Related: Reprinted in Gray, Donald J. I quote a step further. Vision research may be a distraction.

The air traffic control system works because planes would crash otherwise. If you want to trick admissions officers. The reason is that it had no natural immunity to messianic figures, just as it's easier to get the money is in itself deserving.

I'm not saying that's all prep schools improve kids' admissions prospects.

This wipes out the same intellectual component as being a tax haven, I use. People tell the craziest lies about me. If big companies to build consumer electronics.

They won't like you raising other money and wealth. Then when we created pets. A rounds from top VC funds whether it was actually a computer. VCs.

And yet when they talked about before, and since you can ignore. Whereas when the audience already has to be free to work like blacklists, for example. In fact, for the more effort you expend as much time it was wiser for them.

There are two very different types of studies, studies of returns from startup investing, but there are signs now that VCs play such games, but unfortunately not true!

Some of the rest of the War on Drugs.

Robert Morris wrote the ordering system, written in 6502 machine language. The first assumption is widespread in text classification. To be fair, the transistor it is probably part of wisdom.

#automatically generated text #Markov chains #Paul Graham #Python #Patrick Mooney #money #product #version #constraints #places #school #people #founders #history #claim

[gordonwilliamsweb]

Damage to Children’s Education — And Their Health — Could Last a Lifetime

Before the pandemic, 16-year-old Na’ryen Cayou had everything he needed. He had his own room. A partial scholarship to a boys’ prep school. A spot playing trombone in the marching band, performing in parades all over New Orleans.

Then covid-19 blew through the Big Easy like a hurricane, washing away nearly everything that helped him feel safe and secure. Schools shut down. His mom lost her job and couldn’t make the rent. Their landlord evicted them.

Na’ryen and his mom now live with his grandmother. His mom sleeps on one couch; he sleeps on the other. He spent half the school year in virtual learning rather than in class with friends. Although he has struggled with math and chemistry, his mother, Nakia Lewis, said there’s no money for a tutor.

“He went through a real deep depression,” said Lewis, 45, a single mother with two older daughters living on their own. “This is nothing anyone could have prepared them for.”

As Americans crowd into restaurants, line up at movie theaters and pack their bags for summer travel, people are understandably eager to put the pandemic behind them. Yet kids like Na’ryen won’t rebound quickly. Some won’t recover at all.

After more than a year of isolation, widespread financial insecurity and the loss of an unprecedented amount of classroom time, experts say many of the youngest Americans have fallen behind socially, academically and emotionally in ways that could harm their physical and mental health for years or even decades.

“This could affect a whole generation for the rest of their lives,” said Dr. Jack Shonkoff, a pediatrician and director of the Center for the Developing Child at Harvard University. “All kids will be affected. Some will get through this and be fine. They will learn from it and grow. But lots of kids are going to be in big trouble.”

Many kids will go back to school this fall without having mastered the previous year’s curriculum. Some kids have disappeared from school altogether, and educators worry that more students will drop out. Between school closures and reduced instructional time, the average U.S. child has lost the equivalent of five to nine months of learning during the pandemic, according to a report from McKinsey & Co.

Educational losses have been even greater for some minorities. Black and Hispanic students — whose parents are more likely to have lost jobs and whose schools were less likely to reopen for in-person instruction — missed six to 12 months of learning, according to the McKinsey report.

Missing educational opportunities doesn’t just deprive kids of better careers; it can also cost them years of life. In study after study, researchers have found that people with less education die younger than those with more.

Schools across the country were closed for an average of 54 days in spring 2020, and many provided little to no virtual instruction, said Dr. Dimitri Christakis, director of the Center for Child Health, Behavior and Development at the Seattle Children’s Research Institute. A study he co-authored found the learning that kids missed during that time could shorten an elementary school boy’s life by eight months and a girl’s by more than five months.

The total loss of life would be even larger when factoring in the loss of instructional time in the school year that just ended, Christakis said. “We’ve interrupted children’s education, and it’s going to have a significant impact on their health and longevity,” he said. “The effects will linger a very long time.”

Assaulted on All Sides

The double hit from the pandemic, which has impoverished millions of children and deprived them of classroom time, will be too much for some to overcome.

“Living in poverty, even as a child, has health consequences for decades to come,” said Dr. Hilary Seligman, a professor at the University of California-San Francisco. “Children in poverty will have higher risk of obesity, cardiovascular disease and diabetes.”

A growing body of research shows that poverty reshapes the way children’s brains develop, altering both the structure of the brain and the chemicals that transmit signals. These changes can alter how children react to stress and reduce their long-term health and educational achievements.

“Adversity literally shapes the developing brain,” said Shonkoff, of Harvard. “It affects your memory, your ability to organize information, to control impulses.”

Chronic stress in children can lead to persistent inflammation that damages the immune system, raises blood sugar and accelerates hardening of the arteries. The heart disease that kills someone in midlife can actually begin in childhood, Shonkoff said.

“What happens to children early on doesn’t just affect early language and school readiness, but the early foundations of lifelong health,” he said.

More Kids Going Hungry

The pandemic has deprived millions of children of school-related services that normally blunt the harm caused by poverty.

From March to May 2020, students missed more than 1.1 billion free or reduced-price meals that would have been provided in school.

Children who experience even occasional “food insecurity” suffer two to four times as many health problems as other kids at the same income level, said Dr. Deborah Frank, director of the Grow Clinic for Children at Boston Medical Center.

Kids who don’t consistently eat nutritious meals are more likely to develop anemia, more likely to be hospitalized and more susceptible to lead poisoning, Frank said. They also are more likely to behave aggressively and suffer from hyperactivity, depression and anxiety.

The consequences of food insecurity last well into adulthood, she said, increasing the risk of substance abuse, arrest and suicidal thoughts. “There’s going to be educational and emotional fallout that won’t disappear right away,” Frank said. “These kids have endured a year and a half of deprivation. You can’t sweep all that under the rug.”

Kids at the Breaking Point

Young people are already showing signs of strain.

The proportion of emergency room visits related to mental health among kids 12 to 17 increased 31% from 2019 to 2020, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

Although overall suicide deaths haven’t increased during the pandemic, as many feared, teens are making more attempts. ERs treated 50% more adolescent girls and 4% more boys for suspected suicide attempts in February and March 2021 than in those months the year before.

Diagnoses of obsessive-compulsive disorder have soared 41% among girls 12 to 18, according to a June report from Epic Health Research Network. Diagnoses of eating disorders have jumped 38% among girls and 5% among boys.

Many children separated from their peers during the pandemic have been depressed and anxious, said Dr. Lisa Tuchman, chief of adolescent and young adult medicine at Children’s National Medical Center in Washington, D.C.

“Mental illness thrives in isolation,” Tuchman said. “The longer the behaviors and thoughts persist, the more entrenched they become and the harder they are to interrupt.”

Falling Behind in School

The loss of educational opportunities has been far more extensive than many realize. Although the majority of students were back in classrooms by the end of the last school year, most spent a large part of the year in virtual learning.

And while some students thrive in virtual classes, studies generally find they provide an inferior education to in-person instruction, partly because students are less engaged. Just 60% of students consistently participated in distance learning, recent surveys found.

Test scores show students have fallen behind in math and reading. And those scores likely underestimate the damage, given that some of the most vulnerable kids weren’t able to report to school for the exams.

An estimated 3 million marginalized students — including those who are homeless or in foster care — received no instruction during the past school year, either because they had no computer or internet access, had to leave school to work or faced other challenges, according to Bellwether Education Partners, a nonprofit that focuses on disadvantaged students.

Less-educated students can expect to earn less after they leave school.

Lost educational time will cost the average child $61,000 to $82,000 in lifetime earnings, McKinsey concluded. Lifetime earning losses are predicted to be twice as great for Black and Hispanic students as for whites.

“Many of the teens I see have given up on school and are working instead,” said Dr. Sara Bode, a pediatrician at Nationwide Children’s Hospital in Columbus, Ohio. “It’s helping their families in the short term, but what does it mean for their future?”

Learning From Katrina

Experience with natural disasters and teacher strikes suggests that even relatively short interruptions in education can set children back years, said McKinsey analyst Jimmy Sarakatsannis, co-author of a 2020 report, “COVID-19 and Student Learning in the United States: The Hurt Could Last a Lifetime.”

When Hurricane Katrina devastated New Orleans in 2005, for example, it disrupted the education of 187,000 Louisiana public school students.

Katrina left 80% of the city under water. Although New Orleans students missed an average of five weeks of learning, children wound up two years behind peers not affected by the hurricane, said Douglas Harris, professor and chair of economics at Tulane University.

Na’ryen Cayou was just 2 months old when Katrina submerged his house, leaving the family homeless. He contracted whooping cough in an emergency shelter, the first of four moves in eight months. His sister, O’re’ion Lewis, then 4, didn’t attend school at all that year. When she finally began prekindergarten at age 5, the other kids “were already ahead of her,” mom Nakia Lewis said. For a time, teachers even mislabeled O’re’ion as having dyslexia. It took five years — from prekindergarten until fourth grade — before she finally caught up with her peers, Lewis said.

It will be years before researchers know how far behind the pandemic will have left American kids.

After Katrina, 14% to 20% of students never returned to school, according to the McKinsey report. “As kids fall further behind, they feel hopeless; they don’t engage,” said Sarakatsannis, one of its authors.

Under normal circumstances, high school students who miss more than 10 days of school are 36% more likely to drop out. Based on the number of absences during the pandemic, dropout rates could increase by 2% to 9%, with up to 1.1 million kids quitting school, Sarakatsannis said.

Communities need to find ways to repair the damage children have suffered, said Dr. Gabrielle Shapiro, chair of the American Psychiatric Association’s Council on Children, Adolescents and their Families. “How we behave as a society now will determine the depth of the impact on the younger generation.”

Nakia Lewis is hoping for better days.

O’re’ion is now 20 and studying nursing at community college. Although her classes were virtual last year, she expects to attend class in person in the fall.

Lewis recently landed a job as a manager at a Shoney’s restaurant and is looking for an affordable home. She looks forward to reclaiming her furniture, which went into storage — at $375 a month — when she was evicted.

She said she’s relieved that Na’ryen’s mood has improved. He found a summer job working part time at a food market and will begin marching band practice this summer.

“He is happy and I’m happy for him,” Lewis said. “Now I just have to worry about everything else.”

KHN (Kaiser Health News) is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues. Together with Policy Analysis and Polling, KHN is one of the three major operating programs at KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation). KFF is an endowed nonprofit organization providing information on health issues to the nation.

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