#I also want to be a teacher so my affinity for kids extends to that

[forwomenbiwomen]

please excuse me 😭🙏

[snootlestheangel]

Oh my gosh can I get more about Woody?!

I love him so much!

I love all of your ocs so much! They’re so much fun!

I love them too!! They're just *squishes their faces*

He's a phenomenal guitar player, and he loves to play whatever Flash wants to sing during little Shadow Company events or something.

Absolute Pepsi fan. Doesn't drink a lot of it, it's more of a guilty pleasure for him.

Doesn't mind a sweet here and there, but sticks to more hearty things like brownies when he does. Man loves himself a good brownie.

Can actually bake pretty decently, especially when he's doing outdoor stuff. Uses a dutch oven to make the most phenomenal apple cobblers anyone has ever eaten.

Appearance wise, he's pretty simplistic. Just a total cowboy that has an affinity for wearing Hawaiian shirts. It's not clear why he likes wearing those so much, but he does and he looks good in them so no one is willing to question. Not quite dark eyes, but still brown, and some messy black hair. Covered in barely visible freckles from all the summers he spent in the sun all day. Just a little bit of a beard, which is more like the Dad Scruff, ya know? He's got a slim Dad Bod. Dad Bod but like Sleek Mode. He's still a lot like his younger self, but just bulked since joining and having kids.

His kids! He's like the Best Dad! Always bringing them home little gifts and just being such a cool dad. Constantly bragging about his kids' achievements. Even though they're only 5 and 3, he's still bragging. "Look at this picture my boy drew!" *shows a very toddler-like rendition of a triceratops* "He's so talented!"

Yes he is absolutely aware that he's exaggerating and being a total DadTM but he doesn't care! That boy needs his father's support in life! And he definitely takes his daughter on Daddy-Daughter dates when he's home. Just spoils the hell out of her when he can, and does everything in his power to let her be a little girl. Sometimes that means dressing up and playing tea party.

Woody was definitely valedictorian in high school. He's incredibly smart, but he's never held it over/against others. For anything, he used to tutor other kids and was constantly being praised for being a really good teacher cause he helped others realize their intelligence isn't defined by tests and academic stuff, and that they're intelligent in other ways. (Truck would have loved for Woody to be in his life during school, but he would never tell the other that)

Doesn't have too bad of a childhood, definitely just kind of went through it and then decided he didn't know what to do with his adult life, leading to him joining. Has a good relationship with his parents and his older and younger brothers (one older, one younger). Has a lot of extended family and so things get crazy around the holidays and birthdays/other big family events.

A good ole Southern boy, if you will. Is an incredible sharp shooter, especially with handguns and smaller rifles not designed for sniping. This skill sometimes scares people that don't realize he grew up out in the middle of farm country Southern USA. Grew up on a cattle farm and he loves visiting his parents, especially with his kids. Sometimes, "his kids" also means an additional adult person (Ness, having like no childhood, loves when Woody takes him out to the Fallwood farm. He gets to experience all the fun things Woody did as a kid with his brothers, and it's a good healing experience for him. Besides, Woody's family is so Southern sometimes that he doesn't feel weird for not being able to form words correctly, cause half the time he just ends up sounding like Woody's uncle and that's good enough for everyone)

Likes to keep things lighthearted cause he knows how horrible life in the military can get and he doesn't want to lose any more Shadows, especially the young ones. He had an old buddy from basic that went through some really serious shit and ending up taking his own life. That fucked Woody up, so he's constantly doing check-ins with everyone, even though it's not his job. He's just so worried in his own way.

Will give the softest looks as he asks if you're okay, and you respond with something like "hanging in there". Always opens his arms for a hug, but will give what he refers to as the "Fist bump for morale". Because of all the worry he has for other Shadows, he's greying early and it's especially noticeable in his scruff. Has so many worry lines and smile lines. Just looks older than he actually is cause he wears his stress on his face/body.

[sanababes]

The more, the merrier

Pairings: fem!reader x poly!SaYeon (Minatozaki Sana/Cho Miyeon)

Warnings: smut (hair pulling, daddy kink, thigh riding, bondage, a bit of overstimulation???) 

-----------

The sun sets over the horizon of Seoul's sky as you stare mindlessly outside the wide windows of your classroom. The faint sound of your teacher discussing something about the origin of a certain Korean literature is barely audible. You sighed gently before shifting your gaze back to your desk, it was all good and your day went well until Miyeon decided to extend her class for an extra hour.

You looked towards the older woman in front as she passionately covered the topic with its major details. The bright gleam coming from the recessed light on the ceiling hits her smooth and porcelain skin. Miyeon's eyes are sharp but vibrant which you liked a lot as she continued with the lesson, but seeing her laid beneath you while her body trembled in pleasure was more of your taste.

"Miss L/n, are you still with us?"

You flinched at the sudden call of your name. Your classmates started to holler around in a teasing manner, much to your dismay.

"Yes, ma'am…" you muttered, embarrassed that Miyeon caught you gaping at her shamelessly.

The latter gives you an innocent smile before getting the attention of the other students back to her discussion once again. 

'Tsk, the nerve of this woman.'

---

Miyeon's class has finally ended and you immediately took a breather while dashing out of the lecture room. You were too preoccupied with your thoughts that you didn't notice your phone vibrate, indicating someone is calling you. You finally grabbed it after a whole minute and answered the call which seemed to be a little urgent.

"Hey, Y/n/n. Are you done with your classes?" 

A distinct voice speaks up from the other line. You unconsciously let out a silent laugh before replying to the latter, "Sana unnie? You called, and yeah, I just finished them. What's up?"

"Hmm, nothing much. I'm done with my schedule for the week so…" you hummed, waiting for her to continue.

"Would you like to come over?" 

Your eyebrow raised in interest, but you already predicted what the woman was up to. Nevertheless, you still agreed.

"Uh yeah, sure. I'll be there in a few." Sana lets out a few giggles before hanging up with her usual farewell.

You chuckled at her cute demeanor, at the same time, Miyeon had a glimpse of you walking towards the school's exit. She had a mischievous smile written on her lips as her legs strutted swiftly to catch up on you. The students around began to murmur endlessly while a certain brunette triumphantly clings to your arm. Your eyebrows furrowed and almost pushed whoever the person is when a playful whisper sends goosebumps down your spine.

"Hi baby," you promptly tensed up but the way Miyeon's hand rubs gentle circles on your back helped to calm you down. 

"Can't you keep your hands to yourself? They'll probably start some nonsense rumors again." you groaned out. She had the nerve to laugh in the spur of the moment before purposely making her voice a lot louder, "Aigoo~ My dear, sister. You shouldn't act like that when unnie is babying you."

You swear to your life that the cringe you've felt after she said that was uncomparable. All you wanted to do was to dig a hole in the ground and yeet yourself in it. Your face contorted in a grimace of pain. A kind of pain that you'll never have the ability to look into any of these students nearby straight into their eyes.

"Fuck…" you dropped your head down, not wanting to see any of their reactions.

Meanwhile, Miyeon is having a fun time from teasing you. She loved how you would react and began to feel the need of doing it quite often. But, there was a specific reason. Miyeon loved getting you riled up. The way you get rougher and the inflamed gaze on your eyes just hits the right spot in her. 

"Let go," you said through gritted teeth. The latter had yet to realize that you've already walked a block away from the school premises.

"What? But why? My car is just parked a few streets away." she mutters. You rolled your eyes and tried to loosen her grip on you, "I told you, let go."

"I won't, but maybe, until you give me a kiss." 

You let out a harsh scoff before looking at her, her eyes reflecting an enchanting aura you knew very well, "You've got to be kidding me… I think that sister and shit roleplay had gotten inside your head now." 

She chuckled slyly before brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear, "Then why are you getting bothered so much? I thought it was just some 'nonsense' as what you call it. And it was a made-up rumor so they wouldn't be skeptical of our relationship, I'm sure you're aware of that since none of them are true. Am I right?"

You tried to keep your expression neutral as possible, knowing that Miyeon could make something a big deal so quickly. But she was indeed correct, all of the people in school believed your wonderful-sister relationship. You can't even recall how and when it happened, nevertheless, you were the type who wouldn't care too much so you just shrugged it off and played along.

When it comes to your bond with the brunette, you don't even know what kind of relationship it is. The two of you just started fucking each other at some point within the past few years and kind of became an affinity you couldn't let go easily.

"Fine," you looked around your surroundings, feeling a bit wary that someone might see the two of you. It would surely cause a lot of trouble if they saw you. And you weren't worried for yourself, you're mostly concerned at what it might result in Miyeon's future in teaching and you never once thought of disrupting her long time dream carelessly.

You guided her into a hidden alley nearby and she already brought your lips together before you did. You unconsciously pinned her against the wall, one of your hands cradled the back of Miyeon's head so she wouldn't feel too uncomfortable. Her tongue runs swiftly against your lip as she takes it between her teeth simultaneously. You groaned eagerly before hiking the pencil skirt she was wearing higher, caressing the soft flesh near Miyeon's throbbing heat. A hushed whimper came out from her as you took it as an initiative to pull away, but not completely, just letting your lips hover against hers.

"Getting a little greedy, aren't you, Y/n/n." she cooed.

You just smirked and fixed her skirt back to its knee-length position, "I'll accompany you to your car and then I'll get going." 

"Do you want me to drive you home?" Miyeon asked while running her hands through her hair.

"No need," the two of you proceeded to walk to the next street until you spotted Miyeon's car parked in front of a bakery. 

Your phone dinged and you immediately fished it out of your pocket, Sana's name was flashed on the screen and her text read, "What's taking you so long?"

"Who's tha-" 

Miyeon scoffs as soon as she had a glimpse of the name shown on your phone. "Excuse me?! So now you prefer going over to that girl's house instead of mine, huh?" 

You chuckled at her statement before dismissing it quickly, "I'm just going to hang out with her for an hour or two."

The latter glares at you, suspicious and having an idea of your possible motives.

"Bring me with you."

"What? But I-"

"No buts, bring me with you or I'll drive you back home."

You huffed frustratingly before giving in to Miyeon's request, "Fine, don't cause any ruckus when we get there."

---

The tension in the air was getting too much suffocating for you, Miyeon and Sana were literally cursing each other through their own eyes as they seated with distance on the bed of Sana's tiny apartment. You couldn't help but laugh silently at their looks, and if looks do kill, they're both probably dead right now.

You stood up from your seat on the couch nearby the girls' place and grabbed a glass of water. Your throat just dried up from the silence resonating throughout the small unit, also, your boredom was getting the best of you. Glancing at your phone, 30 minutes have passed by just like that and Miyeon and Sana are still in a silent battle with each other. Deciding that their childishness is simply just some funny business, you jogged towards the bed then jumped on top of the soft mattress. Sana just uttered a confused 'Eh?' while Miyeon just stared at you, puzzled at your sudden change of demeanor.

"Are you guys done at mentally killing each other?" 

You alternate your gaze between the two of them as they sheepishly avoid any eye contact. 

That was until Sana spoke up, clearly sulking as she went through her words, "Why did you bring this bitch here? I said we would spend time together, alone." she mumbled while emphasizing the last word. Miyeon visibly frowned at what the latter said.

"Well, the more, the merrier," you smiled teasingly before closing your eyes and leaning against the headboard.

Not even a few seconds have passed, you felt a weight settled on your lap, meaning one of them is now on top of you. 

"Y/n… You're not letting her join us, aren't you?"

You opened your eyes, but there's no more signs of mischief on them. Sana gulped audibly which made a smirk plaster on your lips.

"Why are you such a brat today, hmm?" your hand slowly nudged the strands of hair which covered her gorgeous face from your view. Without any warning, you joined her locks together and pulled them from behind. It drew a filthy moan from Sana as her lips part in slight agony.

"I-I'm sorry," her breath hitched, feeling your hand toying with the waistband of her laced thong.

"I'm sorry, what?" you raised an eyebrow as you pulled on her hair roughly than before.

"Daddy… I'm sorry, daddy." 

You moved your hand down to swipe the tip of your finger against her damped core. Miyeon just sat on the edge of the bed like a tamed puppy wanting the attention of its owner, her jaw was clenched as she watched you and Sana with jealousy. You continued to tease the woman in your lap while a series of gentle cries came out from her mouth.

Deciding that Sana still haven't had enough, you ushered Miyeon to sit beside you which she immediately obliged. You released your other hand from Sana's hair before using it to hold Miyeon's chin as you leaned closer to her, "Can you do something for me, babygirl?"

The latter nods, melting further into your warm touch.

"Bring out your rope and vibrator for me."

Beads of sweat started to form around Sana's forehead as you continued to assault her swollen clit. Her thong was no longer on her, the piece of clothing had been resting on the floor for a while now. The latter is only wearing her baggy white tee that made her perky nipples noticeable under the thin piece of clothing. 

Miyeon obediently followed your orders as she brought two of the toys you requested in no time. You motioned for her to stay put, grabbing the rope from her hands first.

"Let me know if it's too tight," you said while grabbing Sana's waist from behind.

You hooked your chin on her shoulder as you pressed your lips against the back of her neck. You gently tied the rope around her chest before speaking up, "Hands on your back." Sana immediately followed your command, her wrists also being binded by the rope. You let her wear her shirt on since the thick thread could leave marks on her precious skin.

After a few checks and securing the final knot, you pushed her harshly onto the bed while reaching for the vibrator. The Japanese had her face tucked in her pillow as you pulled her hips and turned her body around. 

"You're always the prettiest when you're tied up like this, Sana-yah." you smiled, the woman underneath you squirms needily as you propped your arms between her.

Well, she was indeed gorgeous in her vulnerable state right now. Her eyes soften as you capture her lips slowly, unaware of the toy that's nearing her dripping core. 

Once you slipped the vibrator between her wet folds, Sana's back arches in shock as the pleasure suddenly overwhelmed her body. Strangled whines and moans began to erupt from her while you kept on kissing her roughly. Miyeon couldn't help but to get entranced at how you handled the latter. She never experienced being fucked hard by you as she usually only lasted for a round or two. But seeing how good Sana must be feeling, she suddenly had the nerve to stop being so obedient, even just for a while. 

You pulled away from Sana when a tug on your blouse disturbed you from continuing to keep your lips locked from the woman beneath you. You gave Sana a last glance before leaving the toy clenched inside her dripping cunt, "Enjoy your little punishment, my pretty slut." you breathed huskily. "And if you cum without my permission, you'll need to last longer through the night, darling." 

The latter tried to tug on the rope as she started to mutter a few complaints, her hips grinding against the toy inserted in her at the same time. You let her blabber apologies while proceeding to tend on Miyeon who's sitting on her knees with her eyes locked onto her lap.

You sighed empathetically before reaching your hand out for her to take. She looks at you reluctantly before succumbing to your embrace. You leaned in to kiss the girl as her arms naturally wrapped around your neck. Your hands traveled down to her skirt as you unzipped the hindering material, tugging on it repeatedly until Miyeon got your intention. 

After stripping all of her clothes, you pulled the latter to let her settle between your legs, the two of you facing Sana who's been uttering whines for a while now. Miyeon looks at you, conflicted at exposing herself in front of the Japanese who's trying to keep her eyes on you, silently begging for permission so she can finally have her awaited release. 

"Be thankful that I'm still giving my attention to you, baby. Why don't you be a good girl and ride daddy's thigh, hmm?" you gave her a warning gaze, she didn't have any choice but to obey your command.

Miyeon proceeded to straddle your left thigh as she starts to grind herself against the rough texture of your black jeans. Her ragged pants made you grin from ear to ear, your hands snaked up to her mounds as you grazed your thumb to her hardening buds. The latter whines at the contact while you latched your mouth into the sensitive part of her back.

"That's it, Miyeon-ah. You're doing so well right now, babygirl." she felt you smirking against her skin.

You couldn't have any less effect on her as the wetness spreading on your thigh proves you right. You let Miyeon do her best to reach her high, your gaze then lands onto the other woman who's starting moan louder than before. Sana's eyes started to flutter close while she tried her best to hold her orgasm. You also noticed her body shaking uncontrollably, meaning she's trying her best to keep up with your demand.

"Y-Y/n, I can't…" she rasped out shakily. "Huh? You can't what, Sana-yah?"

You glanced at the arousal leaking from her cunt, she couldn't reply well but a frantic nod answers your question. Meanwhile, Miyeon is starting to reach her limit too. Her grinds are getting sloppy and her hips stutters nearly every thrust.

"Nghh, daddy, I'm gonna- fuck!" you hummed soothingly as Miyeon leans her head back in ecstasy. She releases a prolonged moan while avoiding eye contact with the suffering Japanese in front of her. 

"You can cum too, Sana." you looked at her half-lidded eyes while rubbing Miyeon's tummy in a comforting manner.

The older lets out a loud mewl as her body washes through intense shockwaves. You let Miyeon lay down onto the mattress before assisting Sana by removing the vibrator from her worn out core and aligning it to her mouth instead. She looks at you with teary eyes before languidly licking her own juices.

You threw the toy away and gave Sana a gentle peck on the forehead. Your hands then went on to untie the knot on her wrists as you helped her to get the rope off her body, kissing the leftover marks on her chest, arms, and wrists.

You laid them beside each other, the two are still clearly averting their gazes from each other. Hopping off the bed, you grabbed some warm water and towels to clean their mess. They even tried to help you out as you gently wiped their bodies but you sternly told them to just rest.

After placing the used towels away, you joined the girls in the bed before giving each of them a kiss.

"You did well, unnies."

(a/n: ya'll how was it??? PFFFPFFFPFF i would appreciate some feedback 😊)

[goindownshipping]

‘ this is your favorite, right? ' - frostiron, if you please :D

A few of my favorite things

Pairing: Tony Stark/Loki (Frostiron)

Rating: Gen (G)

Notes: Some snarky frostiron fluff for your consideration! Thanks for the prompt @ohwereusingourmadeupnames​!

Warnings: Quasi teacher/student (Tony is a student teacher, Loki is his cooperating teacher), but everyone is of age and nothing happens until it would be deemed appropriate :)

Word count: 2k

Summary:

The last day of school was always bittersweet for Loki, but this year brought a whole new meaning to the word ... Anthony Stark, his student teacher for the semester, was causing more trouble for him than he ever expected. The trouble had nothing to do with his knowledge of science or his teaching ability. As a student teacher, Mr. Stark excelled and had a bright future wherever he chose to go next. No, the challenges came in Loki’s personal attachment to the man.

Or, Loki and Tony connect when Tony is assigned as Loki’s student teacher for a semester. Some lack of communication can’t get in the way of their witty infatuation and eventual love for each other.

The last day of school was always bittersweet for Loki, but this year brought a whole new meaning to the word. He had some of the brightest students he’d ever taught in his classes that semester; the AP students were bright and up for the challenge, the ninth graders were eager to learn, and his research students asked all the right questions. He knew all those students were going on to bigger and brighter things, many of them would be back the following year, though. 

However, the students weren’t the challenging ones to say goodbye to. Anthony Stark, his student teacher for the semester, was causing more trouble for him than he ever expected. The trouble had nothing to do with his knowledge of science or his teaching ability. As a student teacher, Mr. Stark excelled and had a bright future wherever he chose to go next. No, the challenges came in Loki’s personal attachment to the man. 

Five months ago, Anthony Stark walked into Loki’s classroom with a natural affinity for science and education that Loki had never seen or experienced. Sure, he was a young teacher himself, but he knew that what Mr. Stark possessed was special. He was proven correct when he observed Tony build real relationships with students, reimagine teaching styles to meet their needs, and take on responsibilities that neither Loki nor his professors expected of him.

Tony’s knack for high school chemistry and physics only scratched the surface of who he was. Loki couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t struck by Tony’s beauty from the very beginning, but he knew that wasn’t a subject that he could broach while Tony was under his mentorship. Tony never pushed it, but he knew the lingering glances and accidental touches were mutual between him and his cooperating teacher. There was one particular interaction between the two men that neither of them seemed to be able to shake.

About halfway through the semester, right around spring break, Loki and Tony were sitting around Loki’s desk grading exams and going over Tony’s progress. Loki had his daily English Breakfast tea in hand and Tony had to physically force himself to keep his eyes on the stack of tests in front of him rather than the gorgeous man across the desk.

“You know, these kids are only doing so well this year because you’re such a great teacher,” Loki said.

Tony blushed slightly. “I don’t know about that. You designed the curriculum.”

“Sure, but you’ve been taking the lead for the past few weeks. You figured out the best way to teach the concepts, not me.”

“Well, thank you. But I really am learning from the best.”

Loki blushed this time, but couldn’t bring himself to meet Tony’s gaze. “Have you thought about your plans for after graduation? You could get a job teaching physics or chemistry anywhere, Anthony. You’ve done really well here.”

Tony shrugged. “I’m not sure. My family really doesn’t want me to go into teaching at the high school level. I’ve been accepted to a Ph.D. program with a research emphasis…” Tony trailed off.

Loki looked up at the hesitation in Tony’s voice. “Is that what you want Anthony?”

Tony held his gaze. “It doesn’t really matter what I want, does it?”

Loki paused. He knew Tony’s family life was complicated. Being a Stark certainly wasn’t easy. He also knew that Tony wasn’t only referring to that particular situation with his comment.

“Anthony,” Loki started. 

“No, don’t,” Tony said firmly. “Please.” His shoulders sagged, all the fight going out of him with that final plea.

“For what it’s worth, I know what you mean,” Loki conceded.

Tony snorted, “Thanks, Mr. L.”

“Really, Tony? Mr. L?” Loki’s face morphed into a combination of hurt and confused. Over the past few months he and Tony had grown close; closer than he could’ve expected to grow with a student teacher. He knew it wasn’t breaking any rules, but he made sure that their relationship, if you could even call it that, never crossed any lines.

Loki cherished their daily chats over coffee and tea, countless inside jokes, and private smiles more than almost anything. He would give anything to explore a relationship with Tony outside the classroom, but he couldn’t do that - not yet. Tony just had a few more months under his guidance, then they could figure it out. He only hoped Tony would still be interested that far down the road.

“Sorry, Loki. It’s just- you know.”

“I know, Tony. Let’s get just get through this,” he gestured to the tests between them, “and go from there. Then once the semester is over, we’ll figure that out too,” he said hopefully.

The rest of the semester passed smoothly. Their students continued succeeding and Loki and Tony moved around each other seamlessly in the classroom, creating a positive learning environment for everyone. After school hours, Tony and Loki chatted over their hot beverage of choice and continued to build a connection neither man saw coming.

That was why Loki was so surprised when the last day of school came and went without so much as a goodbye from his student teacher. Tony’s semester had ended a few weeks prior, so his final evaluations and observations were already completed. When the high school semester came to an end, there weren’t any loose ends for him to tie up. As soon as that final bell rang, he was out the door without so much as a backward glance.

At first, Loki was hurt and confused. He thought they would’ve at least talked about whatever they could be once the school year ended. Tony’s disappearance made it abundantly clear that he wasn’t interested in figuring anything out. 

A few weeks into summer, Loki’s confusion turned into acceptance. He knew how much pressure Tony was under, both self-inflicted and from his family. Loki resigned himself to thinking wishful thoughts that Tony found a way to pursue his own dreams, not the ones he was pressured to explore.

--

3 months later

The start of the school year was always chaotic. No matter how much planning and preparation Loki did, the first day of high school chemistry never seemed to go smoothly. From the fear in the eyes of his advanced placement students to the sheer boredom of his last class of the day, it was always the longest day of the year. At the same time, he never seemed to have enough time to actually get the ball rolling. When the last 16 year old sluggishly exited his classroom at 2:30pm, Loki was ready to collapse.

And he would have if there wasn’t an immediate knock at his classroom door. So much for catching his breath. He glanced through the narrow rectangular window and was surprised by the familiar dark eyes he found peering back at him. He nodded at the visitor, indicating for them to come in. His breath caught at the sight of Anthony Stark standing on the threshold of his classroom. It was a familiar sight and yet everything was different from that day nearly nine months prior.

“Anthony?”

“Figured I should make the rounds finally,” Tony shrugged. “Being the new kid on the block can be pretty tough.”

“The new- what?”

“Didn’t Fury tell you there was a new Physics teacher in the department?”

“Well, yes, I knew we were hiring, but just last week it was still vacant.”

“Well just last week I decided research was overrated,” Tony said with a smile.

“It’s lovely to see you, Anthony.” Loki’s face stretched into a grin without his permission and suddenly he was grinning like an idiot at the man in front of him. He took a few steps toward the door as Tony pulled the door shut behind him. 

Tony smiled that crooked grin and Loki’s resolve nearly broke. “Oh,” Tony closed the distance between them and reached a hand forward, extending a large reusable mug into Loki’s hand. “This is your favorite, right?”

Loki looked down in disbelief then back up at Tony as the scent of English Breakfast filled his nose as the steam billowed up from the mug. “Depends on what you’re referring to. You or the tea? Because it’s a hard decision right now.”

“I’ll leave that up to you,” Tony smirked. With that, he spun on his heel and headed for the door.

“Wait!” Loki called, desperate to stop Tony before he opened the door to the chaotic after school hallway.

Tony turned around, his hand loosely gripping the doorknob. “Yes?”

“Don’t just leave again,” Loki whispered, a hopeful smile on his face.

“I couldn’t have gone far, Loki. My classroom is just down the hall.”

“Still. Let’s get out of here. There’s never any real work to be done on the first day, right?”

Tony’s face broke into a grin again. “You tell me, Mr. L.”

“Oh god, no. None of that,” Loki groaned.

“I’ll meet you in the parking lot in 15 minutes.” Tony waved and before Loki could reply, he was disappearing down the hall.

Loki smiled as he sipped his tea, not quite sure what he was doing, but he couldn’t be mad about it. He quickly straightened up his classroom and locked the cabinets before laying out his plans for the following day. Before he knew it he was packing up his briefcase and locking his classroom. The halls were gratefully quiet by then, and when he made it to the parking lot he couldn’t help the pleasant butterflies in his chest at the sight of Anthony leaning against his car.

By the time he was directly in front of the slightly younger man, he had to physically stop himself from reaching out.

“So, where to Mr. Stark?”

“You’re not too far from here, yeah? Is it too forward to invite myself to your house?”

“Certainly not,” Loki smiled. “I’m just over there,” Loki gestured to his car across the lot. “Follow me out?”

“Sure thing!”

Loki stood still for a moment too long, and Tony didn’t miss the opportunity to let his eyes sweep up and down Loki’s tall figure. Loki felt a blush rise to his cheeks at the attention Tony was giving him. After just a few months away, he couldn’t seem to get his fill.

“You want a ride or something?” Tony asked with a smirk.

“Excuse me?!” Loki spluttered.

“To your car, Bambi. You look like a deer in the headlights.”

Loki cleared his throat and took a small step backward when he heard a group of students on the field behind the parking lot. “I’ll be just fine, Anthony. I’ll see you shortly.”

Loki could hear Tony laughing softly as he took long strides across the concrete, desperate to stop embarrassing himself for just a moment. He knew it would continue at his house, but a short break was better than nothing. As soon as he was behind the wheel he glanced at his reflection in the mirror. His cheeks and the tops of his ears were bright red, no doubt due to Tony’s flirting and teasing. Loki shook his head with a smile. He was in for an interesting afternoon.

--

3 years later

“Hey, Lokes!” Tony called down the hall. “We’ve gotta go if we don’t want to be late!”

Loki scurried down the hall from their bedroom into the kitchen, looking nowhere near ready for the day. His hair was barely pulled back and the buttons on his shirt were off by one, creating an unintentional asymmetric look.

“Fix your shirt, I’ll get your tea,” Tony said fondly.

Loki pressed a quick kiss to Tony’s cheek, continuing his tornado-like movement throughout the kitchen. “Thank you, Anthony. You’re the best.”

Tony just nodded and smiled to himself, watching his fiance bustle around the kitchen and grab random papers and books that had been strewn across the counters for weeks. As soon as Tony placed a lid on Loki’s tea and his own coffee, he turned to find Loki smiling right back at him.

“Ready, love?”

“After you, Mr. L.”

“Hey, that’ll be Mr. S soon enough,” Loki retorted as he headed for the front door.

Tony shook his head, “You still sure about that?”

Loki squeezed Tony’s hand, “More than. After all, you are my favorite.”

[tomasorban]

THE ZODIAC: CAPRICORN THE GOAT

Date of Rulership: 21st December-19th January; Polarity: Negative, female; Quality: Cardinal; Ruling planet: Saturn; Element: Earth; Body part: Knees, Joints, Bones; Colour: Black, dark grey, and brown; Gemstone: Turquoise, Amethyst; Metal: Lead.

Following on from Sagittarius, Capricorn is a sign that is immensely focused on how developments made in various disciplines like science, economy, law, and psychology can be used to improve living standards, raise collective consciousness, and foster a powerful society that runs as quickly and efficiently as a Japanese bullet train or a Swiss Rado watch. The Goat possesses the memory of a Tibetan monk, or rather an Indian elephant and its intuition extends far, far back before the conscious will crawled its way out of the primordial sludge. Interestingly, everything about this primitive state of chaos unsettles and scares the Goat. In fact lack of structure and organization, whether on a personal level or a collective level, induces psychological complexes within the Capricornian psyche that may drive it over the edge. In light of this, one can begin to understand this star sign’s compulsion and obsession with developing systems that tabulate and organise information into coherent hierarchies, raising and enforcing social standards and laws, and encouraging individuals to turn their passions and interests into full-time careers. According to the Goat, compartmentalization is a must; how will contemporary society function effectively, grow, and prosper without specialists to put forth broad-based models and inspired leaders to assess their levels of practicality and decide whether or not they should be implemented. Capricorns are innately good at taking on the comprehensive responsibilities of such collective ventures for they are naturally born leaders and committed ones at that.    

People born under the stars of this constellation are usually of an intellectual adroitness beyond their actual years. A personalized form of the Capricornian formative energy might be a three year to four year-old toddler with a very high IQ. Have you ever watched one in action in a kindergarten playground? These little mischievous angels are masters of manipulation. They loiter about sizing other kids up, figuring out what makes them tick, and subsequently flicking on the mental switches that will elicit complete acceptance, veneration, respect, and affinity on their part. Moreover, they also love the power that comes with positions of elevated status and authority and will always pick roles where they are able to order everyone around and be the centre of attention. The wisdom and insight pervading these little beings carry is extraordinary; they learn and identify what behaviours are encouraged and rewarded by parents, teachers, and other adults and will cunningly adopt them for the sake of obtaining what they want. Mature Capricorns very much like mischievous children with very high IQs. They are creatures of atypical restraint and a calculated, cautious temperament that can use their charm, wit and infective cheerfulness to ascend the wrungs of the social ladder and miraculously leave the people they mingled with to get there feeling cherished and esteemed. This talent serves them especially well in professional endeavours whereby expertise, skill level, and personality provide the requisite ammunition in catapulting an employee to the top of the pecking order. The Goat wants to please and to be pleased; a mutually satisfying situation it hopes will assist in its plans to achieve widescale success.    

If we were to attach a Jungian archetype to this star sign it would definitely be The Perfectionist. Mediocrity, poor performance, procrastination, and indolence are non-existent in the Capricornian language and dictionary. The Goat expects much of others and even more of itself, a characteristic which sometimes proves beneficial and sometimes detrimental. It gravitates towards and gels well with those who are equally ambitious, driven, conscientious, and tunnel-visioned but can intimidate meeker and more submissive character types that lack focus, aspirations, and long-term goals. Generating a vision that will contribute something valuable to the society in which it lives and slowly lighting the hermetic fires that will bring it to fruition is big on its lifelong list of things-to-do. Lamentably, a motivated Capricorn can become so fixated on achieving success in all areas of his or her life–finance, love, and professional career–that he or she becomes merciless, indifferent, and as unyielding as a piece of sandalwood trapped between two giant boulders. Unlike a great many that capitulate to the ideals of political correctness, Capricorn is not afraid to employ disciplinary action against inferiors that persistently transgress.

Being a cardinal sign Capricorn is no stranger to activity, fast-paced rhythms, and spirited involvement.  The Goat prefers to circumnavigate the world over and over and over until its limbs drop off rather than remain motionless and caged up in some suburban neighbourhood. It likes to be in constant motion physically, mentally, and intellectually; it wants to be creative and innovative in adding to its chosen field of inquiry but at the same time it yearns for recognition, honour and vindication as validation of these valuable contributions. Just as the sure-footed mountain goat can persevere in traversing precipitous terrain that other animals wouldn’t go anywhere near for fear of plunging to their deaths, so too does the Capricorn soul exude inner strength and resilience in the face of adversity. Unlike some of the other members of the zodiac which give up prematurely or won’t even try for fear of failure, Capricorn will keep chipping away at a foot of a megalithic problem until so much of it is underrun that it collapses in on itself. Of course there are times when the Goat’s unrelenting efforts don’t pay off and this can create psychological torture that leads to bitterness, depression, neurosis, and even psychosis if the condition remains unaddressed. An afflicted Goat can become so riddled by insecurities, self-doubts, and psychological hindrances that it will invert its own social nature and seek solace in escapist activities like daydreaming, reading romance fiction, playing computer games, and watching movies.

“What doesn’t hurt you will only make you stronger!” the resilient Capricorn shouts. “You must endure pain, suffering, and symbolic death during the course of your life in order to become the person you were meant to be. Life is all about improving the world in which we live and adding to it in a constructive manner. Hence there is no room for laziness, lawlessness, or immoralities. The world is our only home. What good would it be to us if it were an asymmetrical place of anarchy, confusion, and absurdity? Everybody needs to have a meaningful role in society that contributes to the harmonious functioning of the whole. Look at bees, for instance. Their society is a sort of autonomous monarchy comprised of drones, female workers, and the queen herself. All these little beings are intensely aware of their position and function in the hierarchy and adhere to it like the universe adheres to the laws of physics. They are all as assiduous as each other and we would do well to borrow and implement the same approach. Success in life comes through industry, focus, and hard yakka (hard work) folks; nothing more, nothing less.

Some people say that I resemble the winter solstice in that I’m sometimes cold and chilly, reserved, and rather impersonal in my dealings with others. This is not my true self, but rather an iron armour or shell which the contingencies of life have forced upon me. I’m a realist so I’d be the first to admit that the world can be a cruel and nasty place. Even though most wouldn’t admit to such, self-interest happens to be a primary urge amongst human beings and their tireless search for validation usually entails a confrontation with the less flattering attributes of the collective temperament. Hence it’s important to put up psychic defences that will guard your soft, squishy, and sensitive interior at all times. The human soul, my friends, is an abyss of human sentiments, and mine is no different. I will sing, dance, cry, laugh, and share intimate details of my life with individuals who manage to gain my love and complete trust, namely those that are going places and doing exciting things with themselves.  As you know, I’m a sucker for security, attention, and status and the best way to get it is to be around those VIPs best able to open doors and facilitate it. I’m not an elitist in any way, but relationships built on synthetically constructed dependencies are an outgrowth of the Western culture in which we are born and raised. We need to work with that rather than against it for the sake of acquiring what we want!”

Capricorn the Goat is connected to two symbols that link the constellation with the reascention of the sun from its seasonal slumber. The first of these is a terrestrial goat or goat-fish crossbreed that has its iconographical origins in the ancient civilization of Mesopotamia. This is depicted morphologically as a sea monster; sometimes as a hybrid goat-fish with the four limbs of a goat and a fish tail and at other times as a sea goat with the posterior of a serpent. Most early cultures perceived that their collective histories were woven into the heavenly constellations and the Sumerians were no different.  Foremost of the symbols belonging to the Sumerian god Enki were a goat and a fish, both of which had amalgamated into the astrological totem we recognise today by the second millennium bce. Originally, Capricorn probably descried an early matriarchal situation of the Middle East in which the earliest monolithic structures of Babylon rose vertically out of a semi-arid breadth of shallow lagoons, reed banks, mud flats, and marshes. The horns of the goat were celestial markers for Mesopotamia’s two principle cities, Babylon and Nineveh; the first was built along the river Euphrates and the second along the Tigris, respectively.

Constructed during the Ptolemaic Period (323-30bce) of Egypt’s illustrious history, the circular and rectangular zodiacs in the Temple of Hathor at Denderah bequeath to us the ancient zodiacal pictograms for the twelve signs. A fleeting glace will show that the vast majority of these have remained largely unchanged. With respect to the Capricorn constellation, the zodiacal band on the circular Denderah zodiac shows the figure of a goat with two legs adjoined to the rear end and tail of a fish. Though the signs and figures of the sky represented on these chronometers express a markedly Chaldean and Hellenistic influence, we can be sure that the autochthonous Egyptians explicitly understood the celestial zone and functional image of the sign as a marker of astronomical rebirth and solar reascent because demotic representations show an ankh, the symbol of life, and an aquatic tadpole with its hindquarters on solid ground (the inverse of the sea-goat image). Hence the Egyptians may have been aware of the twelvefold division of the zodiacal band way before Babylonian cosmogony merged with that of their own under a Hellenistic patina.

The Greeks themselves, who borrowed leisurely from Chaldean astrology, forged an association with their god Pan and with Zeus’s foster mother Amalthea. According to a cycle of Hellenistic myths that chronicle the Titanomachy, a ten-year war between the fearsome Titans and the renowned Olympians, the horned goat-god Pan fought the monster Typhon. In order to evade detection and escape unscathed, he dove into the tepid waters of the Nile. The section of the river into which Pan jumped encompassed magical properties and instigated a physiological transformation upon anything it came into contact with. Thus the parts that were submerged in water, namely his lower body and legs, morphed into a fish whilst his head and upper torso remained unchanged. On the other hand Amalthea was the she-goat that suckled the infant Zeus in a grotto of Mount Aigaion on the Mediterranean island of Crete. In order to save him from being cannibalised by his own father Cronus, Amalthea gathered the Kouretes, the armed and crested dancers of the earth, and prompted them to create an aural bedlam as to mask the cries of the infant.

The second symbol, an astrological shorthand used by astrologers in the casting of horoscopes, is a squiggle comprised of curves, a loop, and sometimes a straight line that could be interpreted as the goat’s horns. Looking at the variant forms of the Capricorn sigil, it is easy to see how the zodiacal imagery was appropriated to create a much simpler and rudimentary illustration recalling the Capricorn’s dualistic nature and primary ambition. With half of its being in the watery chaos of other worlds and dimensions and the other half trotting on three-dimensional and material notions of solid ground, Capricorn wishes to find a balance between the ethereal and material and the sigil no doubt demonstrates this. There are many sayings associated with Capricorn, the best known being that time itself would end when its cluster of stars huddled above the horizon. This sentiment probably has its origins in the fact that the sun transits this section of the zodiacal band at a time when the formative forces of Mother Nature are at the weakest, as well as in the perception that Saturn, the deity intimately connected with cosmic law and the mediation of time, was exalted in this sign.

In the northern hemisphere the constellation of Capricorn appears in the night sky at the time when the solar orb has descended to the nethermost regions of its celestial journey, also known as the winter solstice. Many cultures of the world such as those of the Far East have interpreted this time as the astronomical resurrection of the annual cycle, and therefore a marker for the New Year. This was usually a just and prosperous period which might be equated with a Golden Age when the earth gave back to its mortal children abundance by sending down the rains and offering up a good harvest. It’s probably no surprise that the ruler of this sign, Saturn or the Greek Cronus, holds a sheaf of corn in one hand and a sickle in the other. Together these symbols denote an earned condition of fecundity, justice, and strength which so often comes when one is patient, diligent and perseveres in their chosen field of physical or intellectual inquiry. Taking into consideration the time of the year in which the sun traverses its domain, its earthly, cardinal nature along with its planetary ruler, it would not be unjustified to claim that the Capricorn psyche is honourable, self-disciplined, ambitious, and grounded with partial participation in mystical and speculative philosophy. Just as the astrological pictogram suggests, Capricorn is a very versatile sign once it has completely evolved and can switch from a worldly and ambitious extroversion to a spiritual and contemplative introversion in the manner that nymphs, the larvae of dragonflies, will desert their aquatic environment and transition to an avian mode of existence upon reaching adulthood. Consequently Capricorn’s formative energies reconcile the conscious and sure-footed will with its intuitive and psychic origins, the somnolent unconscious.

[throughthedirt]

Season 1: Chapter Nine

Previous Chapter — First Chapter

Miles

It didn't matter that I was just shy of turning 44 years old. The University of Oregon campus was nearly 300 acres of property housing nearly 23,000 students from around the world. Sure, the majority were teens and young adults, but there was no shortage of older individuals seeking education. More so, I didn't have to be a student. I could be a teacher, a maintenance worker, the IT guy, even a fuckin' janitor. For all anyone knew, I belonged here. And the way I walked through those grand, window-framed doors - people knew. I had a purpose. Showing no signs of hesitation, fear, or confusion, I waltzed my way throughout the campus. For nearly an hour, I roamed the campus freely and without even batting an eyelash to any other person. I was mostly ignored by those who did notice me. But for most, it was like I didn't even exist - just like the rest of them. I was just another body in a mass of humans. But I was here for a reason, and that was to fulfill a job and keep a promise; an agreement that got me freedom in 6. Kyle Turner. Kyle fucking Turner. "Fuckin' football prick raped my niece and got off scot-free," as Correctional Lieutenant Dave Ward would say. The very first words of his that changed the course of my history at Oregon State Pen. And I had read the reports, the articles, the media frenzy - all in prison. I knew what he had done, and he was guilty. But a fully-paid scholarship and a hell of a lot of "hush-money" got him nothing. Not even a smack on the wrist. He walked. Went free. And Ward's niece? Well, things didn't go so great for her. Fearing him, she refused her admittance into UofO, afraid she would see him again. So the fucker had to die. And now it was finally time. 

Approaching the glass doors of the Performance Center, I made a fatal mistake. Reaching my hand out to pull on the handle, the door stayed shut. It creaked as I tried to open it - but it was locked. "Uh, hello?" A large football player called to me in his confusion, his mouth agape and his eyes squinted as he made his approach. He was as heavy as he was tall; his long, afro-style hair alone adding inches to his height. "This building is for authorized personnel only..." He said to me, pulling a plastic card from behind him and slipping it through the swipe-pad beside the door. The pad flashed green and the door clicked. Unlocked. This place was advanced, way more security than I could have ever imagined. University of Oregon had changed in the last 6 years. Turning to him, I gave a toothy grin and begin to chuckle. "Boy do I feel old, huh." He looked at me, cautiously as he stood before the door. But I didn't let him disappear into the building before I extracted needed information. "I'm actually lookin' for someone - maybe you can help me..." I iterated, "One of your football mates, Kyle Turner." The player gave me a saucy eye glare. "What about him?" Pausing, I conjured the biggest load of shit I could muster up in 0.2 seconds. "My niece, you know-" I started to chuckle, so much so that it interrupted my speech. "Ah man, this is embarrasing on her part, but she's... she's a HUGE fan of his. And I mean HUGE. She has posters of him all over her room, you know?" "Uh-huh..." Little interest from him. Only suspicion. But I didn't let him get another word in. "I mean she's just nuts for college football. Strange for a girl, no? I guess the world is changin' and I'm far behind. Heh, heh, heh." I chuckled again, trying to fluster the boy with too much information for him to process. "But ANYWAYS -" I continued, "Her birthday's comin' up and I was hopin' to get maybe a... you know... surprise appearance from him?" There was a look of confusion on the poor boy's face. "WITH COMPENSATION, of course." Another smile. "Uhhhhhhhmm, righttttt." He replied. "Let me..." He struggled to respond. Possibly the weirdest request he'd ever received, surely. "Let me go see if he's here. I'll be right back." "Sure thing, but ah-!" I held my hand up, a signal for him to stop as he reached for the handle. "Allow me," Taking the door by the giant O shape in its handle, I pulled the steel frame open to allow for the jock to head in. In respect to him, I closed it behind him, locking me out of the building once more. I stood there waiting. Waiting patiently. With my hands stuffed in my pockets, I casually swayed my body and whistled a chirpy hymn. To my surprise, it took only minutes for the door to open again. And out came Kyle fuckin' Turner in the flesh. And he wasn't a teenager anymore. No... He was a man, now. "Uh, hi-?" Kyle would greet me, without so much as a formal introduction. Fuckin' millennials. It took me a moment to sink in his appearance. Tall, 6'1, still shorter than me. A big guy, no doubt. But size didn't matter when it came to murder. Only intent, motive, and calculation. "Yes! Kyle Turner." Pulling my hand from my coat pocket, I extended it to him. "My name is Angelo Rossi. It's great to meet you!" Turner took my hand, shaking it as firmly as I was squeezing. But as he had taken my hand in his, I had also raised my other free hand to firmly grip his bicep. A sort of gesture of greeting, but it secretly to scope his muscular size. "Yeah, thanks." The fucker would respond. Yeah, thanks? Really? Really. Releasing his hand, I returned my superior 6 foot 3 stance to it's upright position and gave a fake, cheery smile. "My niece, she's a crazy fan." Pulling for my wallet, I slipped out a photograph of a teenage girl. "Her name is Nakoma. She's... half native half Italian, like me. Heh." Kyle took the photo in his hand, his eyebrows raising at the beautiful young lady he saw in the picture. Perfect, interest. "A looker, I know. Causes me more problems, ya know?" I chuckled, taking the photo back. "So listen, I came here hopin' I could hire you. For a job, of sorts." Kyle crossed his arms before him and looked at me curiously. "Oh yeah?" "Yeah, man. I'm organizing Nakoma's 16th birthday and I really want to make it special. She has posters of ya' all around her room and I thought, pffftttt, what better to surprise her with her favorite football player? Every teenage girl's dream, right?" I laughed again, thinking the idea is silly, but might actually work. "Nothin' major. There's be about 30 of her girlfriends there hangin' around the pool-" Realizing it was January, I instantly corrected myself. "Indoor pool, at her father's place. Big place, you know?" Kyle's head was nodding - Still interested. "Figured you can drop by for an hour or so, or even less if you're in a crunch. Sign some autographs, take some pictures. Grab a bite to eat, whatever you want. There'll be plenty of food, cuz, well, Italians, am I right?" Laughing again, Kyle's interest seemed to only be piquing the more bizarre and outlandish the story got. "Sounds fun." He smiled, bringing his fingers to his lips as he pondered the thought of 30 hot teenage girls in their bikinis. "But uh-" He started to sway. "I don't know-" "I'll pay you $5,0000. Cash." I confessed. His eyes widened. "$2,500 for showing up. $1,500 for autographs and another $1,000 if you take some selfies. You know' - the girls thing. Selfies, heh." I paused, my eyes growing darker as they remained hidden behind Aviator shades. "What do ya' say? We got a deal?" Swiftly changing tunes, "You know what, don't sweat the decision now. There's a lot of politics in sports, I'm old. I know it." I waved my hand in typical Italian fashion. "You gotta' business card or somethin'?" "Uh, nah but I can give you my number-" Perfect. A rich white kid, hot-shot jock, AND a moron. This was too easy. Handing him the photo, he retrieved a pen from his pocket and jotted down his digits. "Wow, thanks man. I appreciate you considering this." I waved the photograph of "Nakoma" and slipped it back into my wallet. "I'll give you a call something this week. Talk it over with your coach or manager or whoever you kids report to, heh." I put my hand out for him to shake again, "And nice meeting you again."

—   —   —  

I found myself roaming the halls of University of Oregon on my attempt to exit the campus. My curious mind sent me further and further into the campus maze - a prestigious multitude of buildings and intricate floor plans; each with its own purpose, meaning, and unique design. Deep in UofO, I stumbled upon the Department of Fine Arts. The halls were brimming from floor-to-ceiling with murals and artwork. Slowing my pace, I stopped to appreciate the work. I had always had an affinity to for paintings. My eye had always found itself drawn to the color red. Red. My dark irises wandered the walls, finally pulling towards a large, 5 foot canvas. It soared above me - dazzling in its ocean of red. The painting was of a woman, presumably dripping in blood. A sort of, Queen of the Damned. Intrigued, my eyes shifted to the small plaque stuck to the wall by the corner of the artwork. Nicola Strom. My stomach sunk as my heart skipped a beat. "Crucifixion." The words rolled off of my lips. My head retracted slowly as my eyes closed. "Mmmm."

—   —   —  

January 20th, 2018 - Five days after release. Eugene, Oregon had been unusually warm for January. For the most part, it was sunny and rainy on-and-off, with an average high temperature of 45 degrees F. Too warm for snow. At least, not enough sub-zero temperatures to keep it for more than a couple days, anyways. Luckily for this lovely Saturday evening, the rain had stopped early morning and the skies were greeted by a brightening sun. Kyle parked his Trail-Rated Jeep cruiser in front of the colonial-century home, red-bricked mansion. He ducked his head, looking over the place with his pale eyes as he took in the sheer size of the place. Although Eugene was home to old money - big money - it was also commonly inhabited by the middle class. Whoever owned this place... wasn't a white-collar, middle class citizen. Exiting his truck, he approached the front door, which was lavishly decorated with a Sweet-Sixteen balloon bundle. A clear indication he was at the right house. As he rang the doorbell, it only took a few seconds before he was greeted by a familiar face. "Mr. Turner." I said, standing tall with my hand cemented firmly on the back of the door. It was the first time he was seeing my hazel-speckled brown eyes. It was also the last. "Cute." I blurted, subliminally mocking his uniformed self as my eyes gazed over his full-football get-up. Shredded sleeves to show his pectoral muscles. How sleazy. Helmet and all. How sweet. "Come join the fun." I smirked, guiding him through the front door. "But maybe take off the helmet." Chuckling, Turner cracked a smile as he took a step into the house - which was, unsuspectingly, filled with the sound of laughing girls. "Too much, huh?" Kyle joked, unclasping the helmet and slipping his head free. His back was to me as I closed the door. "I thought mayb-" The moment he turned to face me, my hand - hidden behind the door the entire time - swung straight for his head. A thin medical syringe pierced into the side of his neck - administered by my right hand - Gloved. Protected. Injecting the cocktail of muscle relaxants, Kyle quickly deteriorated in a matter of seconds. His initial reaction to grab for my hand, but by the time he could react - it was already too late. He was losing almost all of his muscle ability. One. Two. Three. He hit the ground, unable to move, unable to moan, unable to call for help. With his body curled in the middle of the hallway, his eyes remained open - panicked. Looking down at his 6'1, 200 pound physique - which had been reduced to nothing in just seconds - I shook my head. Pathetic. His eyes followed my every move. He was conscious. Awake. Aware. I stepped over him and walked past him like he didn't even exist. Stepping into my living room, I smiled at the sound of giggling teenage girls filled the open-concept space. Walking over to the stereo system, I grabbed the remote and clicked - Off. Silence. Girls? What girls. There were no girls. Returning to his paralyzed figure, I crouched down to brood over him. I tilted my head to the side and grabbed his face between my gloved thumb and fingers. Squeezing his limp cheeks between them as I leaned his head to look at me. "Oh, Kyle." I made clicking noises with the back of my tongue. "Remember her?" Pulling a photograph from my back pocket - Sarah Ward. "Yeahhhhh." I flicked the photo in his face, nearly submitting to my urge to spit on him. "You're gonna die tonight." There was a dark, unforgiving grimace that crept my cheeks. "And it's gonna fuckin' hurt." Two, single-drop tears fell from the corners of his eyes. Hours had passed. Daylight turned to dark as night loomed over the city. Darkness was here. And it didn't come from the sky, nor the sun. Using Kyle's keys, I exited the mansion on the quiet, quaint street. E 22nd Avenue - a large strip of homes graciously spread apart; separated by the comfort of many, decades-old trees. I pulled the vehicle into the long driveway, reversing it rear-forward all the way to the side of the house. Two garage doors welcomed the Jeep, closing behind the front of it. It remained utterly hidden, safe within the confines of the home's garage. It would remain there until 3:45 in the morning, and a storm was brewing. The sound of the garage door sliding gurgled as it swayed open. Keeping the lights of the Jeep off, I placed it into drive and pulled it out of my driveway. The garage door closed behind me automatically, dismissing any evidence it had ever harbored a crime scene. My heart remained regular - beating as it would driving any other vehicle, on any other day, under any other circumstances. Humming, I drove the few blocks between the mansion and the University Campus. The Jeep came to the vehicle entrance of the Oregon Autzen Football Stadium. Like everything within the Performance Center, it required a swipe card to be unlocked and accessed. Holding out Kyle Tuner's card, I flicked it between the pad and waited. Flashing green, the gates to the field slid open. Although forbidden to bring any vehicles directly on to the terrain, it was 3:50 in the morning, on a Saturday. Too late for any players to be hangin' around during off-season, and too early for any maintenance workers or cleaners to begin their services. It was pitch-black, and between the sticky snow and the blowing winds - visibility was poor. Reversing the trail-rated wrangler, I slowly backed it up on to the field, parking the trunk of the vehicle directly in front of the brightly-yellow painted goal-post. Exiting the vehicle, I was dressed from head-to-toe in Kyle's football uniform, with the addition of a black long-sleeved T-shirt underneath. No tattoos were visible. Virtually nothing about me was recognizable. For all intensive purposes, I could very well be Kyle Turner. Unlatching the trunk, it swooshed open. There lay the true Kyle Turner. The flesh and blood. And there was a lot of blood. Taking the thick, twisted rope in my hand, I ran it from the back of the truck to the goalpost. Tossing it over the post's T-center, I caught it back in my hand and ran it back to the truck. The end of the rope was supported by a curled grappling hook. Kneeling behind the trunk, I fastened the hook to the hitch on the Jeep and found my way back to the driver's seat. Pushing the gears into drive, I slowly began to inch the vehicle forward until the rope strained - pulling viciously with the weight. Metal to the floor, I forced the truck into overdrive, suddenly gunning it forward and sending the object in the trunk to veer out of the vehicle. Decelerating the tracks, I watched in my review mirror as the item - two strong planks of crossed wood - reeled up against the T in the yellow goalpost. As it mounted to perfect height, I slammed the Jeep in park, and swiftly - excitedly- hopped out of the truck. It started slow at first, my heavy, rumbling laughter. But it evolved, soon developing into a magnified, thrill-infused maniacal cackle. Victory.

—   —   —   January 21st, 2018 - The Discovery. The lights to the stadium flickered on - lighting the dark early-morning. The sun would not rise for another hour. And for a group of football jocks mucking their way to football practice, it would be a morning they would never forget. Wailing. Loud, incessant, uncontrollable wailing. The sound of screaming echoed throughout the stadium; hair-raising in its velocity, and intensity. The scene brought a grown, 21-year old man to his knees. Vomit projected from his chapped lips as he puked vehemently on the immaculate, freshly-snowed grass - staining it flaxen. It brought a wave of nausea to the entire team. Some cried, some collapsed, some gagged, heaved, hurled. But most... most stood in shock. Hailed before them was the body of Christ - a crucifixion of their most valued team member. There lay the body of Kyle Turner, naked and colorless, with only the stain of bleeding red that covered his postmortem flesh. His genitals were mutilated. His penis split in three different directions. He had been completely castrated; his balls were absent entirely from his groin. An indescribable amount of blood has been loss at its expense, leaving a blood-pour of red human serous to cascade down his legs. Cause of death? Blood loss. Slow, agonizing, harrowing blood loss. The cross hung from the center of the goalpost, the snow beneath his purple-faded feet red with blood. His hands were staked on either side; his ankles crossed and tied. His neck - the same color as his bruised toes - was mounted by barbed wire. His head bore the same fate - crowned like that of Christ with blood trickling from his scalp. RAPIST - Carved with a knife in to his forehead. SINNER - The words dripped from his abdomen in crusting blood, beginning to harden... but still moist. Fresh. —   —   —   "Shocking news this morning on KVAL-13." Smitha George - Live News Reporter, would announce on national television. "A tragedy has occurred at University of Oregon. Senior Football Quarterback Kyle Turner, Star of the Oregon Ducks, was found brutally murdered at the campus stadium." She would go on, standing unshaken in the parking lot of the Performance Center. "Police have ruled the case a homicide after teammates found Tuner's mutilated body crucified on the goal-post of the end field." Spilling too much information for her own good - reporters classically interfered with investigations; often jeopardizing their efforts. "His hands and feet were reportedly pinned to a wooden cross, and his head wrapped in barb wire. Teammates report that the words "Rapist" and "Sinner" were carved on his body..." "... And that his eyes and lips were painted red, with blood." "Turner's vehicle, a Black 2017 Jeep Wrangler - was found abandoned at the scene. Police are looking for any information that may aid their efforts in solving this terrible case." She paused, staring into the camera as her words fed into the lives of millions of Oregon residents. "I'm Smitha George, reporting LIVE for KVAL-13 News." The clip ended.

[vsplusonline]

India's changed media consumption habits may remain post lockdown

New Post has been published on https://apzweb.com/indias-changed-media-consumption-habits-may-remain-post-lockdown/

India's changed media consumption habits may remain post lockdown

Initially, it took a nudge. Ramayan was airing on Doordarshan (DD). In Mumbai, the seniors in the Singh family had a plan. “We had grown up with Ramayan. We had emotions and nostalgia attached to it. We wanted our kids to know the story, too,” says Ajit Kumar Singh, a banking sector executive. The family of five comprises Singh, his wife, son, 17, daughter, 26, and his 77-year-old mother-in-law.

“In the beginning, we had to push our daughter a bit to watch the serial,” he says. Many episodes and weeks later, things have fallen into place. During the lockdown, breakfast is about the family watching Ramayan together. “Initially, I was just curious. What was this serial that held people so much in thrall in the 1980s? Slowly, it has grown on me,” says the daughter, Parul Singh.

But it’s the granny, Mandvi Singh, who is the happiest. Life in the big city is a constant chase. “Everybody was busy. We rarely sat down together,” she says. Even when people had the time, they would watch their favourite programmes — news, cooking shows or one of the many soaps — in their own spaces. “Watching Ramayan together in these difficult times is a refreshing change,” says Ajit.

The Singh family has a lot of company in these locked-down days in India. On the back of reruns of old serials like Ramayan, Mahabharat and Buniyaad, for the first time since 2015 (when BARC was launched), the state-run DD has become the topviewed channel in the country (see box).

TV

TV

Note: % change refers to change in numbers between Jan 11-31 (weekly average) and Apr 4-10 Source: All data, unless otherwise specified, are from BARC and Nielsen, which are tracking weekly shifts in consumer behaviour before and during lockdown.

And its audience engagement has only grown week after week. Who would have thought that amid the plethora of slickly produced sitcoms, movies and originals, mythological shows produced in the 1980s would keep a nation spellbound in these difficult times? “Retreating into the world of Ramayan and Mahabharat is not just about viewing and entertainment. It is a combination of therapy, nostalgia and remembering god amid an unprecedented crisis,” says Santosh Desai, CEO, Future Brands.

A national lockdown that has gone on for five weeks has seen Indians embracing a quieter life. The cacophonous physical world outside has fallen silent, only to be replaced by a vibrant virtual life — experiences streaming via cable, broadband and 4G. News, fantasy, crime, comedy, mythology and pornography all jostle for attention, offering homebound Indians, the more fortunate of them anyway, endless possibilities to stay informed and escape the harsh realities and uncertainties of one of the most tumultuous times in memory.

We have been equipping ourselves with necessary gear for a while. This is a country where buying TVs for homes has historically taken precedence over building toilets. Our affinity for media has only been amplified by a surging smartphone usage (50 crore-plus handsets) and internet connections (72 crore plus), thanks to low-cost Chinese phones and the world’s cheapest data plans.

Viewership

DD

A life where the virtual takes precedence is a delight for marketers and sociologists. Flows of terabytes of data, relatively easy to measure, can offer an unparalleled peek into human behaviour, the shifting patterns and emerging trends.

Not surprisingly, multiple outfits — from research consultancies such as Nielsen, BARC and Similar-Web to search giants such as Google to platforms such as Razorpay in fintech and dating app Truly-Madly — are watching closely. Nielsen (for smartphone data) and BARC (for TV data) have been releasing in-depth weekly reports since the lockdown began, slicing the data to understand the shifts. ET Magazine mined a slew of data sets to bring you insights on India’s digital life in the time of lockdown.

PM’s Speech

Going Retro Time spent on both TVs and smartphones has gone up, with TV getting the largest share. In both variety and time, viewers are seeking more. Average weekly viewing minutes on TV rose by 38%, even as average number of channels being watched rose from 16 to 22. Some are obvious, like the sharp growth (76%) in non prime time as against prime time (which saw only a 5% uptick) viewing, even as weekly advertising time dipped by 26% to 20 million seconds. With people staying at home, TV viewing time is now spread out through the day. “Content satiates emotional and mental needs as anxiety and panic have risen. We have seen a huge growth of DD and non-prime time viewing,” says Sunil Lulla, CEO, BARC India. Unlike popular perception, DD’s growth has come from across income classes, with upper income households leading the surge.

LOCKDOWN SWITCH

Intergenerational Co-viewing Sees a Boost Mandvi Singh, 77 Retired PSU executive, Mumbai LOCKDOWN SWITCH: For the first time, three generations have their breakfast together, watching Ramayan on TV “Earlier, we rarely sat together for anything. It is good to see even today’s kids liking Ramayan”

“Appeal of DD’s shows cuts across segments with very sticky viewers,” he says. Not only has Ramayan’s viewership grown week after week, it is also marked by co-viewing (22% of children are watching with their grandparents) where families get together to watch. Prasar Bharti CEO Shashi Vempati says, “The viewership growth for DD is across segments. What we are witnessing here is the calculus of segmentation being turned on its head, with wholesome family viewing returning. Many decades back, TV was the glue that brought families together.

That is happening again with the epics.” For DD, the lockdown strategy was simple. “We wanted to engage families so that they could stay home to stay safe,” he says. Encouraged, it has launched DD Retro on a pilot basis as a channel to recreate the nostalgia. Meanwhile, consumption of news has grown sharply (219%), followed by movies (73%). “We have seen a viewership surge. Morning viewing time is getting extended into the afternoon. It is also about fresh content. Unlike general entertainment channels (GEC) and sports, news is the only category that can generate fresh content under lockdown,” says MK Anand, MD, Times Network. (It is owned by Times Group, which publishes this newspaper.) GEC saw only a marginal growth of 7%.

There are two possible reasons for this. One is obvious — little availability of fresh content in a lockdown. The second reason is interesting and could offer some clues into how the battle for remote control is shaping up within homes, says Desai. Women, who are a dominant chunk of GEC viewers, may have had to re-prioritise their access to TV amid household chores and stiff competition from kids and men. Interestingly, sports channels that saw a sharp dip, with the cancellation of live sporting events, have witnessed a spike with the live-streaming of WrestleMania and reruns of Indo-Pak cricket classics.

classroom

Online Sessions Keep Classrooms Going Ashwini Kumar, 16 Student, Sitamarhi, Bihar LOCKDOWN SWITCH: He’s in Class 10; his tuition teacher now conducts virtual sessions & tests “My studies had stopped totally. My tuition teacher now sends notes & tests via WhatsApp. It helps”

Smartphone View Multiple sources offer insights into smartphone usage in India. “The biggest thing that struck me is how both men and women have taken to digital news at every level of socio-economic strata in metros and non-metros,” says Dolly Jha, country head, Nielsen India. It has been tough for family oriented Indians to practise social distancing. Forced to cut off physical connections, they are making up in the virtual world. “The share of time Indians spent on calling and chatting is 29% as against 12% in the US,” says Jha.

Covid-19 is on everyone’s mind. More than 1 in every 10 respondents used the government’s Aarogya Setu app in the first week of its launch. Also, 40% of Google’s top 100 searches are related to Covid-19, says Nielsen. Time spent on chat and VoIP (19% on average, with women hitting higher at 22%) leads smartphone usage, followed by social networking (15%), video-streaming (14%) and gaming (9% on average, while 15-21-year-olds spend 11% of their time). Santanu Basu, founder, Let’s Game Now, an esports platform, has seen the user base of gamers surge from 17,000 pre-lockdown to 50,000 now. Based on data from SimilarWeb, WhatsApp, Instagram, TikTok, Facebook and You-Tube are the most popular apps in India. During the lockdown, downloads of almost all these apps have remained stable or dipped, except for TikTok, which saw a big rise. “The sweaty energy that TikTok exudes is a good representative of what is happening in the society at large,” says Desai. He says the depth and breadth of content in TikTok around Covid-19 is far richer than that in other platforms.

World of Smartphones

YouTube search trends echo some of these shifts. News, gaming, at-home workouts and recipe searches for dishes like panipuri saw a big spurt, says Kaushik Das Gupta, group head, insights and partnerships, Google India. OTT player MX Player (owned by Times Group, which publishes this newspaper), which launched seven shows in March, has seen time spent on its platform jump 2.5 times as compared with pre-lockdown days. “Our offering of Hollywood films like Baywatch and Transformers, dubbed in Hindi, is doing well,” says Karan Bedi, CEO, MX Player. Snehil Khanor, cofounder of dating platform TrulyMadly, has seen the number of active users, their engagement and time spent rise even as peak activity time has got extended.

Apps

Love

Beyond the Lockdown Whenever the world resets to normalcy, many of these shifts might prove to have been transient. But some could stick or accelerate trends that were already afoot. OTT viewing is one of them. Virtually, all major streaming platforms have witnessed a jump in user base. Some of those users may not log out after the lockdown.

Similarly, digital transactions have witnessed interesting shifts. A recent report by Razorpay, a fintech company, based on pre-lockdown and lockdown transactions, shows that payments for utilities, IT & software, and media & entertainment saw a growth of 73%, 32% and 25%, respectively, even as sectors such as travel dipped by 87%. “Demonetisation was a short-term event. Lockdown will lead to long-term shifts. Behavioural change will be a lot stickier,” says Razorpay cofounder Harshil Mathur.

Indians are also waking up to the convenience of virtual workout coaches. Universal Music MD Devraj Sanyal has used the lockdown period to focus on his physical and mental well-being, spending two hours daily shuffling between fitness regimens. “Those two hours, I think of nothing else. It’s a great way to de-stress in these difficult times. I am 100% sure some of it will stay post-lockdown,” he says.

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Ask Lisa Advice for the Multiracial Community #4: Ambiguous Looks and Identity Concerns

Ask Lisa Advice Question 1: Ambiguous Looks Could Be a Safety Concern

Ambiguous Looks

Dear Lisa,

I am white, but my husband and children are mixed ethnicity and have ambiguous looks and could be mistaken as middle eastern. Any tips on how to talk to our 12, 14, and 16 year olds about how to respond if they get hassled based on how they look?

P.K.

Dear P.K.,

As infuriating as it is to be victimized for your race or ethnicity, it’s even more frustrating to be attacked for a mistaken identity. Either way, the best thing to do for kids this age is to help them be aware of and prepared for the kind of harassment their appearance may invite. When you say they “have ambiguous looks and could be mistaken as Middle Eastern,” it sounds like you fear that they may face anti-Muslim xenophobia.

Talk to your kids about where prejudice comes from: fear and ignorance of the unknown. Especially in today’s climate, this fear leads to assumptions which lead to bullying. Each time an Islamic name appears in the paper or on the news associated with a terrorist act, this reinforces the false assumption that all Muslims are terrorists.

There are two ways of handling xenophobic bullies: avoid or confront. Which method you choose depends on the bully and nature of the bullying.

Confronting:

We all want our children to be strong, confident and to stand up for themselves, but safety must come first. To tell your twelve-year-old to confront an aggressive adult would be foolhardy. I would only recommend confronting a bully if—and only if—an individual peer verbally hassles your child. In this case, your child can verbally stand her ground, calmly counter the stereotype and, if she chooses, correct the mistake.

e.g.

Peer: You’re a Muslim aren’t you? I bet your dad is a terrorist.

Child: Actually, I’m Italian, Filipina and Catholic. And Muslims aren’t terrorists.

Avoiding:

As noted, safety comes first. Some tips to teach your kids:

Keep a “third eye” open for strangers who might be staring at them in a hostile way.

Keep a distance from that person or group of people.

Size up a given tormentor and note whether he/she seems truly hostile or not.

Find a safe adult, possibly a known teacher or another parent and say, “can I walk with you?”

Avoid walking alone in places where you may be at risk.

For more ideas on helping your child handle prejudice, try this link from Bernardos Northern Ireland.  See Page 14 especially.

Ask Lisa Advice Question 2: Ambiguous Looks Playing a Part in Identity Crisis

Dear Lisa

I was raised to identify Black. Mom was Black and Japanese and dad was White. Despite my very light complexion and ambiguous looks,  I know more about being Black than I do about being White and Japanese. That’s the background, here’s the question:

I was born in the 1960s. In those days offspring of an interracial couple weren’t raised to identify as biracial or multiracial. Oft times multiracial kids were raised to identify with the marginalized parent. At least this was my experience. We are Black, White and Asian. 

My brothers have never owned one race more than another. One looks like something between Asian and ambiguous looks, the other looks Black and I am usually assumed to be White and Puerto Rican and depending on how I style my hair or dress, I too have an ambiguous look to me. We know nothing about our Asian side. While we were raised to identify as Black, we were exposed to many, many cultures and raised to be intellectually curious. For this reason, it’s hard to put us in a box.

Two years ago I came out as multiracial. It’s been an interesting journey for me: both the process of coming out and since I came out. Frankly I’m having a bit of an identity crisis. I am starting to question what I am. I don’t feel White, I definitely don’t feel Asian but when I tell people I’m Black, I get why they react with either confusion or even laughter.  

I recently took a DNA test and discovered that I wasn’t one-quarter Asian, one-quarter Black and half White. I’m one-quarter Asian, 57% White and only 18% Black. My question is this, I’m not comfortable really identifying as multiracial because I feel it’s disingenuous but I’m also aware I don’t look, act and talk the way most people think Black people should be. At 18%, am I pulling a Rachel Dolezal? 

Thank you, 

Identity crisis

Dear Identity Crisis,

Thank you for sharing your story. I think many of us in the multiracial community can relate to your description of “coming out” as multiracial—standing up for yourself when your appearance doesn’t match who you are.

I have a similar issue. Many people see me as black only, though I identify with both parents—my black father and white, Jewish mother—equally. I’m not either-or; I’m both-and. I cannot be half of who I am and ignore the rest, regardless of how I look.

I believe that we are all of who we are, period. And 18% black is pretty close to a quarter if you ask me. You were raised to identify black because black is part of your heritage and a very important part of your identity. For the record, Rachel Dolezal has an affinity for blackness and has made the choice based on her own personal desires, to identify as black. This choice has nothing to do with her heritage or genetic makeup. As many critics have noted: Dolezal can opt out of being black any time she likes. Thus: a world of difference between her situation and yours.

Ask Lisa Advice Question 3: Concerned About Children’s Identity

Dear Lisa

I am black and my now ex-husband is white. We share custody of our two children 11 (boy) and 13 (girl). Since we all live near my ex’s (white) parents in the Northeastern town where he grew up, the kids have grown up knowing their white extended family better than mine—who live far from us, down South. Both kids identify more white than black (though neither can “pass” if you get me). Part of that may be my fault. My parents did not get along with my ex, so while we were married, I did not make enough effort to travel south to visit.

When I announced that I was making arrangements for the three of us to spend a large part of the summer down south with my large extended family, I was disappointed to get pushback from both children. The older one in particular says she does not feel comfortable spending so much time in a “segregated” place. I read this to mean she does not want to spend so much time with black folks, which hurts me deeply.

Not only are my children removed from their black roots, they also hold negative stereotypes of the south, where half their heritage comes from. How do I correct this and make my children proud of and connected to their black side?

Concerned Black Mother

Dear Concerned,

You didn’t mention the demographics of the town you live in, but if your kids identify more white than black, I am wondering if you are their only link to the black community. If your town is mostly white, your kids may have adapted their identities out of survival. The risk here is that internalized racism can lead to long-term dysphoria.

In any case, single-handedly giving your children a sense of their black heritage at this age will be a challenge. You can expose them to black culture, e.g. read books by great black authors together, but if the kids are resistant, don’t push it or it could backfire. You can gently ask them about their feelings about their black heritage, but since you are already feeling hurt, it may be hard not to personalize their responses.

The good news is you have a large, extended black family to embrace them. So do just what you are planning to do. Take a trip down south so your children can get to know your family and experience the South first hand. What to do about the pushback? Don’t make it a fight. Instead, calmly explain that you are all going. The decision is final and they may as well enjoy the trip.

Next, haul out the family album and share photographs of the people and places you will be visiting this summer. Tell them stories about the relatives they will meet. Then skype with family members who are eager for their visit—show the kids that there are real people welcoming them—not stereotypes.

When you go, don’t worry if your kids seem shy and standoffish at first. But encourage them to participate in family life. Let them help prepare meals and learn about Southern cooking. Bear with your kids and trust that the experience will mean something important to each of them. You will be planting seeds that you can continue nurturing when you get home.

  Ask Lisa Advice for the Multiracial Community #4: Ambiguous Looks and Identity Concerns if you want to check out other voices of the Multiracial Community click here Multiracial Media