#Urban dictionary everyone

[mybodyfails]

L-O-V-E

[dudeshusband]

someone tried to call what dean had (in the 60s iirc) a dad bod. and uh, while it's true he was certainly a dad, that's not a dad bod. he never really had what i'd call a dad bod. he was a bit chunky for a period of time in the 70s but that's it.

but like...to me...this isn't a dad bod. he's still pretty well built. he was just never really defined or anything (which i like a lot).

[anonbinaryweirdo]

Mika said my made up word is superior because it's MY word

[k8-says-------hi]

urban dictionary is so funny because like 40% of the entire website is like one guy trying to gaslight everyone into thinking the inside joke between him and his 2 or 3 friends is like an actual thing people say

[shesoutofhere]

Meet Me in the Corner pt.2

Ignore all typos or I will cry.

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Peter is starting to grow on you but the Parker persona is not.

Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4

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

“So he totally blue-balled you.” your roommate says from her desk where she's painting her nails. 

“Mar that totally isn’t how you use that phrase.”

Mar has made you tell her what happened with Peter about 10 times now. Every time you re-tell it, she's come to the conclusion that Peter Parker is an asshole. 

“Okay well you get what I mean. Maybe you should request a new partner.”

Maybe not, Peter may have been an ass but you’d be lying if you said his work wasn’t good.

“Look Mar, maybe I just caught him on a bad day, I don’t know.” 

Marlene whips her head around, nail polish still in hand. “Oh don’t you start with that benefit of the doubt bullshit.”

You sigh, “Requesting a new partner is out of the question okay, I don’t want to seem like a difficult priss, especially since professor Cal already doesn’t like me.”

Mar gives you an obviously fake smile, “that is not true.” 

You give her a look and she grimaces, she’s started something.

“Professor Cal despises me and I don’t know why but  he does.” 

You feel your anger bubble up. You know you’re about to go on a rant and Mar, being a saint, listens. 

“He is constantly nitpicking everything I do and never fails to ridicule my projects in front of everyone. Nothing I do impresses him and I just-” you pause, “I think Peter might help.”

Mar shrugs her shoulders, “I’m still iffy since the blue-balling and all but whatever you think love.”

You giggle as Mar turns back towards her desk, “Hey Mar?”

“Yeah” she answers.

“Next time we're at the bookstore, remind me to buy you an urban dictionary.”

Mar just gives you a thumbs up.

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

You’re five minutes into your walk and realized a little too late that you need a scarf. You could turn back around and go get one but then you’d have to hear Mar say she told you so and that just won't do.

You decide to tough it out.

After a brisk walk, you make it to the library. Once you’re inside you decide that you’re going to treat yourself to a nice warm tea. You enter the library cafe and order your tea. Once it’s in hand you go to look for a spot to hunker down in.

You make your way through the floors and find yourself heading to the spot you found in the corner. When you turn the bookshelf you are surprised to see the spot empty. 

You immediately sit down and start taking your things out. 

You’re taking your laptop out of the case when you hear someone's shoes scuff to a quick stop. You look to see a surprised Peter Parker. Not very pleased with how he left you hanging yesterday, you just eye him up and down until your eyes reach his again. Peter is just standing there and you can’t help but ask, “ Can I help you?”

Peter walks a bit closer towards the table before he answers. “No, I was just checking to see if the spot was empty but it’s not so.” He says dragging the O.

Peter stands there expectantly, like he’s waiting for you to ask him to sit. You don’t, so he cracks first. “Do you mind if I sit with you, all the other floors are too loud and I really need some peace and quiet.” 

Surprised that  he actually asked you, in a nice manner at that, you just nod yes.

He moves to sit in the chair across from you. The tables are big enough to where both of you can spread out your work comfortably but you still can’t help but feel on edge. You didn’t come to the library expecting to see Peter, let alone have him sitting with you. 

You try your best to chill out, reminding yourself that you were here first and if anyone should feel mildly unwelcomed, it should be him. With that you decide to start typing up an article for a paper. 

You’re both quietly working when Peter speaks up. “What’cha working on?”

Trying not to lose your spot, you continue typing away and give a simple response. “An article”

“For?” 

You sigh, whatever groove you had originally found, is all gone now.

“A paper.”

“Which one?”

“An art paper.”

“Oh cool, what do you write?”

You look up from your computer to look at him. “What happened to peace and quiet?”

Peter seems a bit taken aback. You feel bad so you quickly follow up, “I write about up and coming artists. Whether that be new exhibits they have or just sit down interviews about their lives.” 

Peter stays quiet so you continue, “I also do in-depth reviews over specific expo’s and the fundraiser’s some of them work for.”

Peter crosses his arms and nods, “Cool cool.”

You give him a quiet ‘yup’ and go back to typing. You get about a sentence in before Peter interrupts you again. 

“Is that how you knew about the donors gala?”

You nod, “Sort of, but I really learned more about it through Austin.” 

“Art museum friend?”

You give him another nod, “art museum friend.” 

Peter just nods some more and leans back into his chair.

“Since we're on the topic, what exactly is the gala for anyways?”

Abandoning all hope for your article, you push your laptop away to fully engage with Peter.

“A bunch of the school's donors get together for a night and do a dinner and an auction. A lot of the art auctioned off is work that students have put together. Those students get invited and get to mingle with some pretty important people. Some even come out with internships or commissions.”

Peter can’t hide his surprise, “that's actually….really cool.”

You can’t help but agree, “yeah, even cooler that we get to go.” 

Peter sits up, “speaking of, how about we knock out that outline?”

You would be lying if you said you weren’t thrown off. Last time you saw Peter he was a bit of an asshole. Now, he’s tolerable and dare you say, easy to talk to. Whatever it is, you aren’t complaining.

“Yeah, let me pull up the sheet.”

You and Peter brainstorm for a while. Deciding on different angles and how to approach the assignment. After a while you guys decide on a solid plan and you begin to type it up on the outline. 

“So, you’re pretty lucky to have Cal as a professor, considering you write articles and all.”

You wince but continue to type, Peter notices. “What’s the face for?”

You let out a puff of air “I have this running theory that Cal is not very fond of me.” 

Peter looks intrigued. “Whaaat, Cal doesn’t like you? That can’t be true. What makes you say that?”

You shrug your shoulders, “he’s pretty, um, critical of my work. He also loves to pick on me and my ideas.” you double down, “like I said, theory.” 

Peter gives you a smile. “Uh oh, should I be worried about our project?” you know he’s joking, or you hope he’s joking, but you can’t help but genuinely worry.

Before you can really get into your head, Peter taps the table to get your attention. “Hey, I'm sure it’s gonna be fine. Plus I'm on the team now and I don’t mean to brag but my work is brilliant.”

Successfully making you feel better, you roll your eyes jokingly. “Yeah yeah I get it, Peter the almighty photographer.” 

Peter smirks, “so you’ve heard of my work?” 

You scoff, “oh come off it Peter.” 

All he does is laugh and starts to gather his things.

You can’t help but feel a bit sad?

“Well I’ve got to head out but let me know if you need any help on the outline.”

You nod, “Yeah, I think I should be good. I’ll finish it up and send it to you to look over.” 

Peter stands up and swings his bag over his shoulder, “if you want to, but I have full faith in you. You’re the writer after all.” 

You can’t help but smile at the compliment. “Look at us, the dream team.” 

Peter laughs and starts to walk away. “Oh yeah, Cal’s got nothing on us.” 

You let out a laugh at his comment. Peter turns to give a wave goodbye and turns the corner out of your eyesight. 

After a bit, you finish the outline, look it over a couple of times and once you’ve decided it’s perfect, you go ahead and submit it.

You send the file to Peter so he can go ahead and submit it for his class. Feeling pleased with the work you’ve done today, you decide to head out.

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

It’s Wednesday and you’ve just finished up with Cal’s class. You linger a little bit behind, finishing up the notes left on the board. Once you are done you begin to gather up your things and head for the door. Before you can make it out Cal calls out your name to stay behind for a sec. 

You halt in your steps and turn around to walk back to his podium. A fellow classmate gives you a sympathetic smile as she walks by you. You can’t help but dread what's to come.

Call talks to every other student before he gets to you. You can’t help but feel like he’s left you for last on purpose. You get up to his podium. He’s flipping through his stack of papers, when he pulls out a sheet of paper. You read the top and see that it’s your outline paper. 

Cal speaks first. “So, you and mister Parker are doing the donors gala?”

You nod, “yes sir.”

He just hums and looks down at the outline. He rubs his chin while he reads over the paper. 

“How will that work out?”

Here he goes. “Well Peter will take photos and I’ll write up the article.” 

Cal sighs, “yes I understand that but how are you guys attending? Will you be a guest? Workers? Volunteers?”

You pull your hands behind your back and try your best not to seem nervous. “We’ll be guests, sir. I know someone working the event and-” 

 Cal cuts you off, “So you’ll be loitering?” 

You dig your nails into your palms, trying to remain calm. “No sir, I know someone working who has offered guest passes and I’ve received invitations from an exhibit I write for.” 

“Ah” is all Cal says.

There's a bit of silence when Cal finally looks up from your paper. “ This is a very important event for the school and students involved.” Cal pauses, “you understand that you’ll be mingling with very important people?”

You nod, “of course professor.”

Cal grabs the paper and goes to hand it to you. Before you can grab it he pulls it back. “It’s an honor to be able to attend this gala. You will represent not only me but our school as well. I believe you’re one of the only students to have offered this idea up for the project. I’ll approve it but please note that I am expecting a lot considering how important of an event this is.”

You give another nod, beyond ready for this to be over. “Of course.”

Cal gives a curt nod, “very well then.” he hands over your paper, “I'm looking forwards to seeing you both there.”

You say goodbye and head out the door, paper gripped in your hand. 

When you make it far enough you look down at your outline. You sigh as you see all the markings on it. There's minimal notes on Peter’s ideas for the photos but your angle portions are all scribbled on. 

At the very top it reads ‘revise and turn in again by Friday.’

You think if you look at paper any longer you’ll cry. You shove it in your backpack and begin your walk to your next class. 

With your morning ruined, you can only hope that the rest of the day will be better.

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

Evil Cal has placed a curse on your day. You should’ve known his class would be an indication for how the rest of your day would go. 

You’d completely forgotten to finish your pre-lab for your lab, which led you to have to stay behind an extra thirty minutes to finish it. Those extra thirty minutes made you extremely late for your next class. You had run across campus in hopes of catching some part of the lesson. When you finally make it, dripping in sweat and out of breath, you walk up to the door and read the sign that your class has been canceled for the day. Just to top it all off, it started raining and you’ve got no umbrella with you so you had to go to the student store and spend an absurd amount of money on the smallest umbrella you’ve ever seen. 

You’re now walking towards your dorm, in no real rush. You’ve accepted that you’re going to be soaked by the rain, thanks to your ridiculously small umbrella. Your shoes make a squish sound with every step you take and you’ve got your backpack on your front side, hoping to protect what's inside. 

All is well until a gust of wind has the umbrella flying out of hand, poking you in the head on the way out. Your eyes drift to where it landed. You are extremely surprised when you catch sight of Peter holding the umbrella. You wave at him and get a small smile back. You think nothing of it as you walk over to him. When you get close you realize that he isn’t alone.

Peter is standing with a group of people under an awning of one of the classroom buildings. One guy looks familiar and you realize it’s the guy that interrupted you and Peter the first day you guys met. 

He gives you a wave and hello.

“Hey, we met the other day right?” 

You nod, “yeah” 

He extends his hand, “I didn’t properly introduce myself, I’m Nolan.”

You shake his hand and introduce yourself as well.

Peter is still holding your umbrella but hasn’t said a word to you yet.

You’re about to ask Peter for your umbrella when one of the girls from the group speak’s up. 

“How do we know you exactly?”  Okay wow, she’s a bit blunt. 

Nolan replies for you, “this is Parker's partner for that class he was talking about.”

She nods “Oh yeahh,  I remember. The project he’s worried about.”

Peter gives her a look and cuts in, “Charlotte.”  She just shrugs her shoulders. “What, were you not saying that you were worried.” 

Everyone but Nolan and Peter snicker. It’s like they know something that you don’t and you feel a pit form in your stomach. 

You can’t hold your tongue and look Peter right in the eyes. “What are you so worried about Peter?” 

He stutters, “well after what you told me I-” Charlotte clearly is having too much fun and decides to answer for him. “Parker here is worried about you guys failing the project, considering your track record and all.” 

Your stunned silent. You can’t remember the last time someone has been so blatantly rude to you. It reminds you too much of highschool and it’s upsetting you. What upsets you the most is the lack of Peters defense.

Your new found friend Nolan even says something, “Oh Charlotte don’t be like that.”

Charlotte just can’t seem to let it go, “I'm sorry, did he not say she hasn’t been able to ace a project.”  she looks at you with mock sympathy. “Don’t worry, I’m sure this project will exceed expectations.”

You feel your eyes begin to sting. You berate yourself in your head for tearing up. You blame the draining day you’ve had for the lack of self restraint.

You clear your throat. “Well Charlotte.” you turn to Peter who’s still not said a word. “Thanks for enlightening me on Parker's worries.�� you snatch your umbrella out of his hand and walk away, offering no goodbyes. You faintly hear Nolan scold Charlotte but the giggle that follows tells that she doesn’t take it seriously. 

You speed walk as fast as you can, when you hear Peter call out your name. You don’t stop. You walk faster hoping that he’ll get the memo. You halt to stop when Peter steps in front of you. 

“Hey don’t listen to Charlotte. She’s kind of a-” you cut him off, “a bitch?” 

Peter winces, “I mean for lack of better words, yeah.”

Peter can tell you’re still upset and tries to lighten the mood. “Hey so I got this lens for the assignment, it's supposed to be really nice for night shots.” 

You are in awe. Is he really trying to completely disregard what just happened?

You deadpan, “real neat Parker, I gotta go.” you try to walk past him, but he manages to step right in the direction you're heading. “Hey, look, I’m really sorry but-”

You scoff, “but what?” you’re pissed off now. “I tell you something in confidence and you go and blab about it to all your friends.” you’re not done yet. “Speaking of your friends, that Charlotte one has a real shit-attitude. I am no one to judge who you can be friends with, especially since we aren't.” Peter frowns at that. “But it’s really telling about your character if that’s who you choose to hang with.” 

The rain begins to pick up again and you grip your umbrella harder, Peter still stands in front of you, now getting rained on. You believe you’ve had enough and step aside to go around Peter. Somehow he’s managed to line himself in front of you once again.

“Hey come on, it doesn’t have to be like that.” your eyes widen, genuinely shocked by his audacity. “You’ve got to be joking right? Peter you just let Regina George 2.0 make fun of me based off of whatever information you blabbed about.” 

Peter opens and closes his mouth, like he’s at a loss of what to say. You shake your head. “Whatever, you don’t owe me anything.” This time you’re set on getting away. Peter sticks his hand out. “Wait can I just-” you put your hand on his shoulder and shove him to the side. Peter is thrown off by this and it gives you a chance to get ahead of him. You think he’s gotten the message because he doesn’t call after you again. 

You make it to the crosswalk and wait for the light. You can’t help but look back at the group. Peters made it back and is laughing away with the rest of them. You can only assume he’s blowing off what just happened. 

You pull out your phone and immediately text Mar.

Peter Parker IS an asshole.

 Cal can kiss my ass.

ALSO, we need a bigger a umbrella. 

You see the dots and receive her response.

Oh honey, I'm ready and waiting. 

Doors unlocked 

Xoxo

You see the light turn green and give one final once over at the group. Seeing the group reignites your anger and you stomp your way across the street. 

Mar is about to have the biggest I told you so moment ever.

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

Peter is so #fake and i kinda love it.

Also, sorry to all the Charlottes out there, you're my villain of choice :)

[stopthatfool]

thinking about twink maverick and wondering how people think he’s a twink. genuinely. I look at these images and see, while yes a short man, a man who is also muscular and probably weighs a ton in pure muscle

If he’s a twink then everyone in that movie is a twink. and i dont think that’s correct.

According to wikipedia, this is what they say twinks are:

So let’s break this down.

1. Late teens to twenties

Sure. Maverick is in his twenties. But only looking at age would technically make me a twink so whatever. Let’s move on.

2. Slim to average physique

Maverick does not have an average physique. That man is built. He is in peak physical condition. He doesnt just sometimes work out, he is actively working out. Look at his arms! His trapezius! Those muscles are clearly developed and strong! In certain uniforms, his waist appears smaller, but that’s what the flight suit does to all silhouettes. Maverick is built like a brick, yes with hips, but he’s not little. He’s short of course, but he’s not small. He’s not lithe, he is muscular, he is BUILT! Look at the left bottom picture. Look at how rectangular. Look at how NOT lithe he is. Look at how not skinny he is. Like come on now.

3. Youthful/feminine appearance

While he is extremely youthful looking as Tom Cruise always appears, i disagree that tom cruise/maverick in Top Gun looks feminine. But that’s not to say that tom cruise has never appeared feminine or twink-like in any way. Legend (1985) is an example of his twink and feminine abilities. But for maverick i would argue that he looks very masculine. Boyish, which some argue is another visual feature for twinks, but not feminine (in my humble opinion).

4. Little to no body hair

To think that maverick has no body hair is just maverick unibrow erasure and i wont stand for it. But seriously. While tom cruise was waxed and oiled up for top gun, this is also happy trail erasure. I will now provide proof.

One of them is from mission impossible but um idc. It’s proof that Maverick HAS body hair, both around his chest and in … lower areas… but Maverick is not hairless enough to be a twink, especially because he doesnt fall into the other necessary categories to excuse/ignore his body hair.

5. (Kind of a half point because not all definitions and understandings of the word twink align with this) but it seems a lot of modern connotations of the word twink are parallel to exclusively bottoming

See here the most popular definition of the word twink on urban dictionary. I dont think that Maverick exclusively bottoms. Maverick FUCKS too. Like it’s not just Ice doing the fucking. Like Mav fucks. He fucks, guys you dont understand he fucks.

Therefore, Maverick, in my opinion, is not a twink. He is Maverick. The end.

[odessa-2]

How can Sam be okay with everyone thinking he pays for sex?!!! I can’t believe he paraded her around showing that off! WTH?!!

Maybe he isn't okay with it. I'd say he isn't exactly jumping with joy atm. Tags turned off, a delay in sharing the OL trailer, point towards some unrest in the background.

It is one of the stranger things this narrative has given us. I think there is something going on in the background we may not be aware of. I don't believe that Sam didn't vet the hooker. He knew he was pap walking with a prostitute. So it was deliberate. I personally am inclined to think he did it to shit on the JAMMF fantasy man. A sort of fuck you to tptb but hurt his image in the process. All the decisions that Sam and Cait make regarding the narrative are 100 percent self-destructive.

The very odd Jungle/monkey themed trailer IG posts that Sam made prior to this gobsmacker of a maneuvre wasn't in isolation to the papwalk imo. Sam likes to speak in code. He sends us messages. He was telling us something. What was he telling us though? That he's nothing but a monkey in a jungle?

See urban dictionary definition of Jungle

Food for thought. Will he keep posting Jungle themed nonsense with inflatable monkeys now that he showed us that he's a performing monkey lost in the wilderness?

[otherkinnews]

Republicans introduce a 7th anti-furry bill and work to undermine student freedoms on a wider scale

(This blog post was written by Orion Scribner and N. Noel Sol, originally posted on February 18, 2024 to the Otherkin News Dreamwidth, at this link.)

Content warnings: Rated G. An urban legend that describes an unsanitary situation. Sexism against transgender people, including attempts to prevent them from participating in sports and using facilities like everyone else, and attempts to stop them from transitioning.

Summary: In 2023, Republicans began to propose laws (bills) in the US that would be against people who identify as animals. They base these on an urban legend that says schools provide litter boxes for students who identify as animals. Republicans made up that legend in parody of transgender students asking to use school restrooms (Scribner and Sol, 2024). The newest of these bills is Missouri House Bill 3678 (MO HB 2678). It’s the third such bill in 2024, bringing the historic total of these bills up to seven. This bill was written as part of a Republican effort to undermine public schools (which can’t ban transgender students from using the right restrooms, and students have First Amendment rights) in favor of religious charter schools (where students aren’t protected in those ways). The following blog post is a seven minute read.

What the Missouri bill says

Missouri House Bill 3678 (MO HB 2678) has the title “Prohibits students from engaging in ‘furry’ behavior while at school.” You can read this bill and see the latest actions on its official site, the Missouri House of Representatives, or on a third-party legislation tracking site, LegiScan. This bill was introduced this week, on February 13th, and read a second time on the 14th. It would add a law into the Revised Statutes of Missouri (RSMo). It would go in the part of the state laws about education, in Chapter 167, titled “Pupils and Special Services.” It would say:

“A student who purports to be an imaginary animal or animal species or who engages in anthropomorphic behavior consistent with the common designation of a ‘furry’ while at school shall not be allowed to participate in school curriculum or activities. The parent or guardian of a student in violation of this section shall remove the student from the school for the remainder of the school day.”

The same as the other bills like it, this bill is based on an urban legend, not on anything that was done in real life by students, furries, and/or people who identify as animals (McKinney, 2022a). This bill's wording looks like it was based on a bill from another state, Oklahoma House Bill 3084 (OK HB 3084), or its predecessor last year, Oklahoma Senate Bill 943 (OK SB 943). It shares their inaccuracies: though there are real people who identify as animals, surveys show that most furries don’t, and the dictionary definition of the word “anthropomorphic” means resembling a human, not resembling an animal (Scribner and Sol, 2024).

Who wrote the bill, and what is its context with that author’s other motivations?

The Missouri bill’s only sponsor (writer) is Cheri Toalson Reisch (she/her). She is a Missouri Republican who has supported anti-transgender bills in the past. One of those is MO SB 39, which would ban transgender students from participating in their gender’s sports division (both in private and public schools, up to and including in colleges and universities). Another one is MO SB 49. It would bar minors from accessing gender transition related surgeries or medications, removes adult coverage of hormone replacement therapy and any gender-affirming or transitioning surgeries from the Missouri Medicaid program, and denies prisoners and inmates access to any surgeries related to gender transitioning. She described both these bills as a “great move in the right direction,” and has been vocally critical that they were not harsher (Central MO Info, 2023).

Reisch is familiar with the urban legend started by conservatives of students using litter boxes in school bathrooms. She has posted about it on Facebook, telling her constituents that it is actively happening in Missouri and accusing the Columbia school district of taking part in it, stating “This is happening in Columbia Public Schools also. Yes, the janitor has to clean the litter box” (McKinney, 2022a). That's never happened. Schools say they have not been providing litter boxes to students in this way, and even deny that they have had any students identifying or behaving as animals, according to reliable fact checking resources (Reuters, 2022; Palma, Snopes, 2023).

Reisch has a history of being especially critical of the Columbia school district, which is one of the largest and most successful school districts in the state (McKinney, 2022b). She’s used this urban legend to attack the district’s legitimacy. This may be because Reisch prioritizes independently-run charter schools over standard public schools. Earlier this year, she sponsored MO HB 1941, which would allow for charter schools to operate within the Columbia school district without the district’s sponsorship.

Why are Republicans criticizing public schools and favoring charter schools?

In the US, the normal types of schools for children up to about age 18 are called public schools. Families don’t have to pay for their children to attend them. They represent the ideal that everyone growing up in the country should have equal access to school, regardless of income, class, race, religion, or ability. Because public schools are government establishments, the US Constitution protects the students’ rights there. The First Amendment of the Constitution protects the freedom of speech and religion of everyone, and that’s for students in public schools, too. In the landmark 1969 case Tinker v. Des Moines Independent Community School District, students sued because they had gotten suspended for wearing black armbands to protest the Vietnam War. The Supreme Court decided that it would be as tyrannical to prevent students from expressing political opinions within public schools as it would be in any other government establishments. The Court said students don’t “shed their constitutional rights to freedom of speech or expression at the schoolhouse gate.” In 1948, McCollum v. Board of Education had decided that public schools can’t give religious instruction during the school day. In 1962, Engel v. Vitale decided they can’t make students pray (Pew Research Center, 2019). Public school dress codes often aren’t as fair as they should be, but for the most part, their students can wear what they want and what their parents allow.

In contrast, what are known as charter schools in the US are privately owned, so they’re allowed to have requirements or education goals which would be considered a violation of the First Amendment. Some of them have religious affiliations and may be owned or operated by religious organizations. This can affect the way the school is run. For example, Oklahoma charter St. Isidore of Seville Catholic Virtual School has planned Catholic religious instruction classes, and the school’s active and intentional participation in what it refers to as “the evangelizing mission of the Church” (Fitzpatrick, 2023). Charter school dress codes can be much more strict. They are often segregated by gender stereotypes, forcing girls to wear skirts and boys trousers, no exceptions. This has been challenged in some places against specific schools, such as in North Carolina earlier this year in a lawsuit against the Charter Day School Inc (Chung, 2023). These challenges are the outlier and not the norm, however; gender-segregated dress codes are still a very common practice for charter schools overall. Charter schools also require applications and choose students based on random lottery systems. However, studies find that charter schools are more likely to ignore parents inquiring about the enrollment process if the student has a disability or other special needs (Darville, 2018). Unlike public schools, they don’t welcome everyone.

The freedom of expression in public schools is important for transgender students. In 2020, the case ​​G.G. v. Gloucester County School Board decided in favor of transgender-friendly restroom policies in high schools. This precedent helps protect transgender students’ rights in public schools, but doesn’t apply to charter schools. During the course of the case, the Conservative Legal Defense and Education Fund told the Court why to decide against transgender rights. In an effort to invalidate transgender people, the Fund compared transgender people to otherkin. The Fund used the word “otherkin,” and described them at length, mostly accurately but derisively (Brief Amicus Curiae, 2017, G.G. v. Gloucester Cty Sch Bd). This case was part of what inspired the Republicans to later make up the litter box urban legend. We don’t know if that particular brief inspired the legend too.

Republicans may be promoting charter schools because this would give them greater control over impressing their views about gender, religion, and politics on young generations. They may be undermining public schools because the separation of church and state limits their power to do so there. The urban legend and these bills are part of that.

Background about all of the furry bills and the urban legend that inspired them

To learn about this year’s first two anti-furry bills, read our post about them from last week (Scribner and Sol, 2024). That post also summarizes the four anti-furry bills last year, and the litter box urban legend. For further information about those aspects, you can watch our lecture about last year’s bills and what you do about bad bills (Chimeras, Scribner, and Shepard, 2023), and watch Chimeras’s lecture about the litter box urban legend (Chimeras, 2022).

What happens next with Reisch’s anti-furry bill?

The bill is at 25% progression toward becoming a law. The House heard the bill twice, but it hasn’t been voted on. At the time that we write this blog post, they haven’t scheduled the bill’s next hearing.

About the writers of this blog post

We are Orion Scribner (they/them) and N. Noel Sol (she/they), a couple of dragons. We never write articles with the assistance of procedural generation or so-called artificial intelligence (AI), and that type of content isn’t allowed on Otherkin News.

References

“Brief Amicus Curiae of Public Advocate of the United States, U.S. Justice Foundation, and Conservative Legal Defense and Education Fund in Support of Petitioner.” Gloucester County School Bd. v. G. G. ex rel. Grimm, No. 16-273, 2017 WL 192454 (Jan. 10, 2017). http://files.eqcf.org/cases/16-273-amicus-brief-public-advocate-et-al/

Central MO Info (May 19, 2023). “Representative Toalson Reisch Disappointed in Senate’s Version of Trans Bills.” Central MO Info. https://www.centralmoinfo.com/representative-toalson-reisch-disappointed-in-senates-version-of-trans-bills/

Chung, Andrew (June 26, 2024). “US Supreme Court turns away case on charter school's mandatory skirts for girls.” Reuters. https://www.reuters.com/legal/us-supreme-court-turns-away-case-charter-schools-mandatory-skirts-girls-2023-06-26

Darville, Sarah (Dec. 21, 2018). “Want a charter school application? If your child has a disability, your questions more likely to be ignored, study finds.” Chalkbeat. https://www.chalkbeat.org/2018/12/21/21106398/want-a-charter-school-application-if-your-child-has-a-disability-your-questions-more-likely-to-be-ig/

Engel v. Vitale, 370 U.S. 421 (1962). https://caselaw.findlaw.com/court/us-supreme-court/370/421.html

Fitzpatrick, Cara (Sept. 9, 2023). “The Charter-School Movement’s New Divide.” The Atlantic. https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2023/09/charter-schools-religion-public-secular/675293/

G.G. v. Gloucester County School Board. 972 F.3d 586 (4th Cir. 2020). https://casetext.com/case/grimm-v-gloucester-cnty-sch-bd-8

House of Chimeras (Aug. 12, 2022). "Litter Boxes in School Bathrooms: Dissecting the Alt-Right’s Current Moral Panic." OtherCon. https://youtu.be/WVjXOmN2IlU

House of Chimeras, Orion Scribner, and Page Shepard (2023). “Litter Box Hoax 2: Legislature Boogaloo.” OtherCon 2023. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lsXy_ctC4Jc&t=1425s

Legiscan. MO HB 2678. https://legiscan.com/MO/bill/HB2678/2024

Legiscan. MO HB 1941. https://legiscan.com/MO/bill/HB1941/2024

Mccollum v. Board Of Education, 333 U.S. 203 (1948). https://caselaw.findlaw.com/court/us-supreme-court/333/203.html

McKinney, Rodger (Aug. 25, 2022). “State Rep. Cheri Reisch criticized for 'unwarranted' claim that CPS students use litterboxes.” Columbia Daily Tribune. https://www.columbiatribune.com/story/news/politics/elections/local/2022/08/25/state-rep-cheri-reisch-criticized-for-unwarranted-claim-that-cps-columbia-students-use-litterboxes/7895082001/

McKinney, Rodger (Feb. 6, 2022). “State Rep. Cheri Reisch states 'Columbia sucks' when referring to public schools in education hearing” Columbia Daily Tribune. https://www.columbiatribune.com/story/news/education/2022/02/06/cheri-reisch-states-columbia-sucks-when-referring-to-cps-in-education-hearing-mo-leg-basye/6662719001/

Missouri House of Representatives. MO HB 2678. https://house.mo.gov/Bill.aspx?bill=HB2678&year=2024&code=R

Missouri Senate. MO SB 49. https://www.senate.mo.gov/23info/BTS_Web/Bill.aspx?SessionType=R&BillID=44407

Missouri Senate. MO SB 39. https://senate.mo.gov/23info/BTS_Web/Bill.aspx?SessionType=R&BillID=44496

Palma, Bethania. (January 30, 2023). “How Furries Got Swept Up in Anti-Trans 'Litter Box' Rumors.” Snopes. https://www.snopes.com/news/2023/01/30/how-furries-got-swept-up-in-anti-trans-litter-box-rumors/ Archived on March 30, 2023. https://web.archive.org/web/20230330232007/https://www.snopes.com/news/2023/01/30/how-furries-got-swept-up-in-anti-trans-litter-box-rumors/

Pew Research Center (Oct. 3, 2019). “Religion in the Public Schools.” https://www.pewresearch.org/religion/2019/10/03/religion-in-the-public-schools-2019-update/

Reuters Fact Check (October 18, 2022). “Fact Check-No evidence of schools accommodating ‘furries’ with litter boxes.” https://www.reuters.com/article/factcheck-furries-rogan-litterbox-idUSL1N31J1KT Archived February 13, 2023. https://web.archive.org/web/20230213110524/https://www.reuters.com/article/factcheck-furries-rogan-litterbox-idUSL1N31J1KT

Scribner, Orion, and N. Noel Sol (Feb. 9, 2024). “Will Oklahoma Call Animal Control on Students?” Otherkin News. https://otherkinnews.dreamwidth.org/92680.html Tinker v. Des Moines Independent Community School District, 393 U.S. 503 (1969). https://openjurist.org/393/us/503

[starless-planet]

Being terminally online but only on tumblr and youtube just makes it so you’re forced to go through accidental humiliation rituals irl. Absolute lose-lose situations.

Several months back I started my first ever big person job out of college. My coworkers’ (despite most of them being my peers) exposure to the internet largely stops at Tiktok and Facebook.

It was about one month in when I looked over at my coworker’s computer and see she’s looking at pictures of the onceler on google images.

Obviously my blood freezes in my veins but I go “Hey whatcha looking at over there?” And she explains to me she is planning on putting a photo of “The guy from The Lorax” in our coworker’s locker because he looks like him.

But as she keeps scrolling she’s… discovering. She’s having an experience I wish I could have shared with her instead of looking on like I’m seeing corpses strewn about a battlefield. She’s seeing the art. She’s baffled. “Why would people draw that? What’s going on?” she wonders. She is 24 years old. “People are weird.” I say. It’s all I can say. I’m new here and we are at what is essentially a help desk where guests can come up and talk to us at any time. I leave it be. She finally chooses a normal photo to print.

Later I’m having a conversation about it with another coworker and she goes “oh yeah. Well, apparently on Reddit it was a thing to like… you know… want that guy and the Lorax to kiss.”

I almost lost it, guys. I was screaming in my head. There was an entire 2 hour youtuber essay being held back because I was unwilling to expose myself. I had to just look her in the eye and go “yeah that’s crazy lol.” There was no discussion about the self-ship art. That went right over their heads I think.

A few months later and I’m making jokes to my other coworkers about which president they would marry and my friend pipes up “we should make a tumblr about really hot presidents, guys.” Now this time I only had a moment to suffer the weight of Hamilton Tumblr before she said “It’s too bad none of us have a tumblr and it’s dead.”

(Now before you go and think she’s just doing a bit I later confided in her I have multiple tumblr accounts and she was like “Oh. Good for you!” and promised me she didn’t have one. I believe her.)

Then we come to Columbo Night. Columbo Night is when we all get together and watch Columbo. I was doing a bit where I didn’t know what drugs were (well half of a bit, because I don’t actually know too much about them).

I mentioned learning about angel dust in DARE, but when everyone asked what that was I had to admit I didn’t know which specific drug it was slang for. So they looked it up on urban dictionary. They find this:

They lose their minds trying to figure out what was going on with this definition.

I kept my mouth glued shut.

They learn it’s from Hazbin Hotel. “I think Hazbin Hotel is a web comic?” someone pipes up.

I’m staring at the floor in front of me. The handful of youtube video essays I’ve watched on the show are playing out in front of me. I’m counting my blessings I’ve never actually watched it.

They’re having conflicting opinions about the art style. I’m gripping the edge of my seat.

And then, it’s time for Columbo, and it’s all over. Just as quickly as it started, it ended. Thank you Columbo.

[thatbloodymuggle]

READY TO RUN (viii)

EIGHT - AFFETTUOSO

SUMMARY: in a world where everyone has a predetermined match, JJ Maybank and Y/N Montgomery want nothing to do with theirs. it has to be a cruel joke; the universe forcing two people to love each other when they don’t know how.

PAIRING: jj maybank x reader / soulmate au

WORD COUNT: 8.4k

SERIES MASTERLIST

WARNINGS: none this time :)

✰✰✰

According to Urban Dictionary, Sunday Scaries are the phenomenon by which you question your entire existence after a Saturday full of binge drinking. In your 18 years of existence, you had experienced a number of Sunday Scaries. But none could rival the torrent of dread, regret, and everything else in between that swept over you when you stirred awake on Kate’s couch the morning after your unfortunate blunder in the ocean.

You usually woke up foggy-minded after drinking. But today, the vivid memories flooded you before you even opened your eyes. You could see the vein protruding from Topper’s neck as he yelled at the Pogues. You could smell the stale beer spilled down your chest. You could feel the water dripping from JJ’s hair onto your face as he carried your limp body to shore. 

Suddenly, and all at once, you forced your eyes open, letting the harsh light of Kate’s living room drown out the onslaught of memories.

Your head lulled to the side as you assessed your surroundings. Topper’s zip-up was discarded on the chair across from you, but there was no sign of either of your friends. You lazily glanced at the ticking grandfather clock. 8:03 A.M.

You sucked in a deep breath as you reached for your phone, preparing yourself for the missing calls and texts from your family. Your brows cinched as you were instead met with an empty home screen. Much to your displeasure, your gut twisted when you didn’t find a certain blond-haired Pogue’s name flash across the screen. Against your better judgment, you sunk your nails into your thigh, just hard enough to wince. You waited a beat, and couldn’t help but feel disappointed when the action wasn’t returned.

You sighed and tossed your phone aside. You stared up at the ornate chandelier dangling above you. You gnawed your bottom lip as you mulled over your options. You could wait for Kate and Topper to wake up. But then you’d inevitably be badgered with questions you didn’t have the energy to answer yet. Alternatively, you could walk home, back to the place and people who had sent you spiraling yesterday. 

Both options sounded equally treacherous. Maybe you could sneak into your house, just long enough to freshen up. You could figure out the rest from there, you decided. You shut out any anxiety-inducing thoughts, and instead focused on your footsteps as you gathered your belongings and crept out of Kate’s house.

The beating sun was a welcome distraction as you stepped out into the Carolina heat. You moved mechanically along the side of the road, counting your steps in twos. You focused on the crunching gravel beneath your feet, the beading sweat kissing your forehead. Anything to keep the whirlwind of thoughts at bay.

Your calculated steps faltered as the Montgomery Mansion came into view. Still, you proceeded toward the ghastly Antebellum home, your head held high by a facade of confidence. You fought to keep your breathing steady as you approached the entrance. Your eyes flicked towards the side of the house, and you frowned upon noticing that your bike was missing from the rack. Strange, you thought to yourself.

You sucked in a deep breath before pushing the front door open as quietly as possible. Your shoulders slumped as you found no one in the entranceway.

However, your stint of relief was short-lived. A dreadful sinking feeling gripped you as you passed by the ballroom. The center of the marbled floor once occupied by an elegant Steinway grand piano was notably empty. Your knees buckled at the sight. Still, you propelled yourself towards the kitchen where you heard the unmistakable sound of your father’s bellowing cough. 

You could almost feel your cortisol levels spike as you turned into the entryway of the kitchen. Clyde and Margaret sat at the table, unbothered by your presence, as they indulged in their morning coffees and newspapers. 

"Where's my bike?"

Margaret paused momentarily before continuing to sip on her coffee.

"I sold it."

Her icy tone made your heart plummet to the pit of your stomach.

"And the piano?" your voice trembled as you spoke.

Margaret cleared her throat before taking another sip, "Sold that too."

You clenched your fists as you stood with your mouth agape. A cascade of anger and despair simultaneously engulfed you.

"You're fucking kidding me," you seethed. 

"Don't speak to your mother like that," Clyde snapped. You jumped as he slammed his mug down on the table, black coffee sloshing over the edges. "Seeing as empty threats mean nothing to you, your mother and I decided to take direct action."

You spoke through gritted teeth, "And how exactly do you expect me to practice for the showcase?"

"Not my problem," Clyde muttered as he mindlessly flipped through the newspaper on the counter.

"You can't," you blubbered, "You can't do this to me. This isn't fair!"

Margaret laughed dryly, "You want to talk about fair? Your father and I work tirelessly everyday to provide for you, and you have the nerve to drag us through the mud," she spoke sharply, "So long as you embarrass the Montgomery family name, you will not reap its benefits. If you're so determined to be independent of us, then have at it, Y/N. Be independent."

You fought back the tears welling up in your eyes, but couldn't stop your jaw from falling slack as Clyde shoved the pieces of your cut up credit card on the counter towards you.

You swallowed down the lump in your throat. You fumbled for your phone, and nearly dropped the device at your father's next words.

"Your removal from the Verizon plan will be effective at midnight."

Your hands trembled and your knuckles turned white with rage. 

"Fine," you spit, "Have it your way. See if I care."

They did not, in fact, care. Neither Margaret nor Clyde so much as twitched an eyebrow when you stomped out of the room and slammed the door shut behind you, shaking its hinges on the wall. Your previous plan of getting in and out as quietly as possible was long forgotten.

You sprinted up the spiral staircase and your chest heaved as you swung open the door to your bedroom. The smaller piano in your room was gone as well. Your heart dropped at the sight of the empty wall and carpet littered with pieces of sheet music. You fought back tears as you sank to your knees and gathered the discarded music pieces into a neat pile. You hastily shoved the pile of sheet music into your piano bag, and hauled a large suitcase from underneath your bed. You were frantic as you yanked clothes from your closet and threw them inside the open bag. Hangers clattered against the wooden floor, but you couldn’t care less.

The sheer shock of the situation allowed you to move on autopilot as you headed towards your bathroom. You shoved your bare necessities into another bag and tossed it inside the suitcase. You haphazardly zipped the bag shut and clambered out of the suffocating room. You didn’t care how much noise you made as you dragged the large suitcase down the staircase. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Dixie’s disgruntled voice sounded from the top of the staircase.

You didn’t spare your older sister a glance and instead opted to blindly flip her off.

You ignored the profanities spilling from Dixie’s mouth. You sucked in a deep breath as you finally exited the house. The wet heat was a welcome escape from the prison you were unfortunate enough to call ‘home’. 

You could feel your heartbeat in your ears as you fumbled for your phone. You quickly found Kate’s contact card and pressed the call button. You waited with bated breath as the phone rang, and your shoulders slumped with relief when Kate’s disgruntled voice finally replaced the tone.

“Y/N, what–”

“Can you come pick me up from my house?”

You gnawed on your bottom lip as you heard Kate shuffling around.

“When did you even leave? I didn’t hear you,” Kate spoke through a yawn, her raspy voice indicating that she had just woken up.

“I didn’t wanna wake you,” you spoke hastily, “Can you please just come get me? I promise I’ll explain everything.”

You released a breath you didn’t realize you were holding as Kate finally responded, “Yeah, yeah. I can be there in 10.”

“Thank you,” you sighed, “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Kate swiftly replied before ending the call.

You sighed as you put your phone away and began hauling your luggage down the driveway. This wasn’t the first time you’d packed a bag and left the Montgomery mansion; but the last time you ‘ran away’ was when you were eight years old, and you lasted a whole 10 minutes on the curb before begrudgingly returning. This time was different. This time, there was a sense of cruel finality to it all.

You paused as your phone buzzed. You halted abruptly and dug it out of your pocket. Your lips turned downward slightly at the picture of Sarah Cameron on your screen. With your mind elsewhere, you swiftly rejected the call and continued your walk down the driveway. But before you could take another step, it rang again. Your thumb hovered over the ‘decline’ button, but your guilty conscience was too strong. With a sigh, you accepted the call before you could talk yourself out of it.

“Y/N?” Sarah’s voice rang through the device.

“Yeah, what’s up?” you spoke coolly.

“Thank God you picked up. I was so worried about you and I’m so so fucking sorry about last night, I never should have left you out there like that. It was so dumb and I–”

“It’s okay, Sarah,” you cut off her rambling, “Seriously, you don’t need to apologize.”

Sarah let out a sigh of relief, “Of course I do. But the most important thing is that you feel okay.”

You hesitated before replying, as you were reminded of the throbbing pain in your head the previous night, “Yeah, I’m feeling better. I’ve just got other things on my mind right now.”

“Oh, um, yeah. You know if you need anyone to talk to–”

“Not that,” you were quick to cut Sarah off. 

You knew the metaphorical cat was out of the bag, but the last thing you wanted to talk about in that moment was JJ. You had a feeling that if you even let yourself think about him, you’d spiral all over again.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, “It’s just, um, I might not be reachable for the next few days.”

“What do you mean ‘not reachable’?” Sarah replied.

You sighed and sat on top of her suitcase, “My phone plan’s getting cut off at midnight.”

“Okay,” Sarah dragged out the word, “Well I can just swing by your place until you get it fixed.”

“No, don’t,” you quickly interjected. 

“You know, if you don’t wanna see me you can just say that,” the hurt in Sarah’s tone was evident, and it made your stomach twist. 

“It’s not that, Sarah, I promise,” you sighed before continuing, “I just got into a fight with my parents and they’re cutting me off for the time being.”

You pulled your phone away from your ear with a grimace as Sarah’s shriek sounded through.

“The fuck do you mean ‘cutting you off’? They can’t do that! And I can’t possibly imagine anything you could’ve done or said to warrant that. This is insane, Y/N, you’ve gotta–”

“Gotta what, Sarah? What the fuck am I supposed to do?” your voice wavered as you shut your eyes to force back the tears threatening to escape, “I brought this onto myself, and now I have to face the consequences.”

Sarah spoke with a pained sigh, “Y/N…”

“Kate’s picking me up. I’ll be at her house for the time being, in case you need me,” you paused as you watched an unmistakable Range Rover pull into the driveway, “I’ve gotta go.”

“Wait–” Sarah’s voice abruptly cut out as you ended the call. 

The disgustingly large vehicle halted in front of you, and you didn’t hesitate to lug your belongings over to the trunk. A very messy-haired Topper was quick to jump from the driver’s seat, wordlessly helping you load the bags into the car. You all but ran into the car, swiftly shutting the backseat door behind you. You avoided Kate’s worried eyes in the rearview mirror, and instead opted to fiddle with your seatbelt. Topper coughed awkwardly as he returned to his seat behind the wheel and drove the car from the driveway back onto the street.

The car ride was filled with a suffocating silence that left you gasping for breath when you finally arrived back at Kate’s home. The crisp air gave you little reprieve as you swung open the car door. Kate and Topper silently helped you gather your things and bring them inside. You could feel their burning gaze, but you ignored them. As soon as they’d set down your bags in the living room, Kate softly grabbed your hand. You let her lead you down the hallway, up the stairs, and into the safety of her bedroom. Topper trailed behind, but upon Kate’s warning glance, he opted to occupy himself elsewhere in the house, leaving the two of you alone.

You crawled into Kate’s unmade bed, ignoring the lingering smell of Topper as you wrapped yourself underneath the covers. You waited until you heard the click of Kate’s door shutting behind her before finally breaking the awkward silence.

“I know you have a lot of questions. Just ask them,” you spoke slowly in an attempt to keep your voice steady.

Kate sighed as she crawled under the covers beside you, “I honestly don’t even know where to start, Y/N. I’m so worried about you.”

You swallowed down the lump in your throat as you turned your body to face Kate’s and met her wide-eyed gaze.

“I don’t know where to start either. I just feel so…so–” you paused as the quiver in your voice betrayed you, “Lost.”

The soft touch of Kate’s hand brushing back your hair was the straw that broke the camel’s back. You shut your eyes tight as you felt the first tear trail down your face, quickly followed by another. You allowed yourself to be engulfed in Kate’s soothing touch as you buried your face into your friend’s shoulder. The two of you remained entangled in one another as you silently sobbed, your tears soaking right through Kate’s sweatshirt.

She rubbed soothing circles into your back until your breathing steadied, and your tear ducts had emptied.

“You can start wherever you want,” Kate whispered once she’d sensed you had calmed down.

You gulped in an attempt to moisten your dry throat.

“I guess I’ll start from the beginning,” you rasped.

Kate listened intently as you detailed the events from the past few weeks, from the first night at the Kegger to your fight with Anna. Once you started speaking, you couldn’t stop. All of your pent up frustrations, your unwelcome thoughts, came tumbling out, all at once. By the time you had detailed the interaction with your parents that morning, you felt the weight of the world lift off your shoulders. For the first time in weeks, you could breathe a bit easier, see a bit clearer.

“I’m so sorry for keeping you in the dark through all this, Kate,” you whispered.

You studied the cinch between Kate’s brows and tried to decipher the emotion swimming in her big, brown eyes.

“Please, don’t apologize. You told me when you were ready and that’s what counts,” Kate paused before continuing, “You know you can stay with me for as long as you need. Betsy is in Europe for the summer so you can even have the whole guest house to yourself, if you want.”

You nodded appreciatively. You pulled Kate into a tight hug which was instantly returned. You allowed the scent of her lavender shampoo to flood your senses, providing you with some semblance of comfort.

“As for JJ…”

Kate paused as she felt you tense in her arms.

“I know. I know it’s not right. We’ll never work together and we’re no good for each other. I just need some time to navigate the soulmate bond, find a way for us to go on with our separate lives without–”

“Y/N, shut up.”

Your lips parted in shock as Kate shoved you away and held you firmly by your shoulders. You felt like shrinking under her resolute stare.

“That’s not how soulmate bonds work. You can’t ignore it or fight it until it goes away. It’ll only become stronger and more painful if you keep going like this–if you keep going like this, it’ll tear you apart,” Kate spoke with conviction.

You gnawed your bottom lip in thought, “So, what then? I just give myself completely to the biggest douchebag on the island? If I run off with a Pogue, I might as well kiss my family, my life here, everything I’ve worked so hard for goodbye.”

Kate sighed and ran a manicured hand over her face, “I can’t tell you what to do, Y/N. But I can tell you that what you’re doing now is not a solution.”

You groaned in frustration. You ran your hands through your hair, tugging harshly at the roots as if doing so would pull the right answer from your mind. 

“It has to be a mistake,” you cried, “Aren’t soulmates supposed to be the ‘perfect fit’? We’re anything but. We live different lifestyles, we have different values, we like different things–we have absolutely nothing in common.”

“Maybe you haven’t found anything in common with him because you haven’t allowed yourself to try,” Kate’s words crashed over you like the wave from the night before.

You opened your mouth to protest, but nothing came out. 

“You know, I couldn’t imagine resisting my bond with Topper. I know it’s different, but still. I can’t even begin to picture the agony that would cause,” Kate’s harsh tone had shifted into something softer, gentler, “I can’t tell you what to do, Y/N. You’ve gone through life for so long with other people making your decisions for you. And as agonizing as this whole situation has been, it’s something that you, and only you, have complete control over. This is one decision that no one else can make for you.”

You flinched as Kate’s words struck a chord deep within you. As much as you hated to admit it, Kate was right.

“I know you know I’m right,” Kate cracked a small smile at your awe-struck face, “You don’t have to say anything–just think about it.”

You simply nodded in response. Your shoulders slumped in exhaustion as you leaned back against the headboard of Kate’s bed.

You jumped slightly at the sound of a sharp knock on the bedroom door.

“Kate? You in there?” Mrs. Moore’s muffled voice sounded through the door.

“Yeah,” Kate called as she scrambled from her bed.

“You have some visitors.”

You subconsciously shrunk under the covers as Kate opened the door to follow after her mom. You chewed on the inside of your cheek as you mulled over Kate’s words, which seemed to echo ceaselessly in the chasms of your mind.

“Mind if we crash the party?”

The lilted tone of Sarah Cameron’s voice shook you from your thoughts.

Your eyes widened slightly at the sight of Sarah and Kie at the doorway, with a visibly tense Kate lingering behind them.

“We come bearing gifts,” Kie’s soft tone eased some of the tension in Kate’s shoulders.

You cracked a small smile at the basket of chocolate and Cheez-Itz in Kie’s arms.

“How’d you know Cheez-Itz are my kryptonite?” you teased.

Sarah and Kie grinned, taking your smile as an invitation to stay. You gratefully took the basket from Kie and gestured for the two girls to join you on the bed. Kate hesitated before joining as well so the four girls sat in a circle.

“Well you were practically on your knees begging for them last night so I took a gander,” Sarah giggled as you ripped open the box and greedily scooped out a handful of the orange pieces.

“We just wanted to check in, see how you’re doing,” Kie added. She shifted slightly under Kate’s warning gaze. You gathered that Kate must have told the two girls not to ask about JJ before entering.

You forced a tight lipped smile through your mouthful of Cheez Itz, “I’m doing okay.”

Sarah nodded and ran her hands nervously over her thighs. You could tell she was itching to say something.

“Spit it out, Sarah,” you rolled your eyes.

“I really hope you don’t mind, but I filled Kie in on your, um, situation with your parents,” Sarah spoke quickly, “And she had a really great idea to help you out.”

You frowned, “I don’t need charity, guys. Seriously. I appreciate the snacks and all, but I’m not taking anything from–”

“No, no, nothing like that,” Kie interrupted you, “When Sarah told me your parents sold your piano,” you shifted uncomfortably and Kate inched closer in a protective manner, “I thought about the piano we have at my dad’s restaurant. I asked him about it since no one really uses it, and although he said we can’t just give it away, he did say that he’s been trying to get a live music gig going at The Wreck for some time now. I told him how good you are at piano and that you’re looking for a place to practice. He said he’d love to have you play there a few nights a week, and in exchange you can use it whenever you want after hours to practice. And you’ll be paid, of course.”

Your eyes widened and your mouth fell agape. 

“I know it’s not perfect, but I thought maybe–”

“It is perfect,” you cut her off. You let out a breathy laugh, “It’s totally perfect! When can I start?”

Kie grinned and clapped her hands together in excitement, “Whenever you want. We have all the equipment set up, but if you need to take a few days to sort out what you’ll play–”

“Can I start tonight?” you cut her off again with an eager grin.

Sarah laughed, and Kate couldn’t help but crack a smile at the drastic improvement in your mood.

“Well, yeah, I just figured you might want some time to prepare.”

“She’s our little musical virtuoso. She doesn’t need time to prepare,” Kate chimed in with a soft smile.

You rolled your eyes, “Virtuoso is a stretch. But I’ve definitely got some tricks up my sleeve.”

“Don’t be modest. We all know you’re a shoe in for Julliard, and in five years time you’ll be performing in Carnegie Hall,” Sarah scoffed.

You flushed and shook your head with a laugh, “Only if you’re there watching.”

“Are you kidding? We’ll be sitting in the front row!” Sarah nudged you as she stole a handful of Cheez Itz from the box in your lap.

The group of girls continued chattering until their stomachs hurt from the combination of non-stop laughter and influx of chocolate and crackers. You were grateful for their company. Your heart fluttered as you watched Kate slowly, but surely, warm up to the two Kooks dressed in Pogue’s clothing. For a few hours, you were able to take your mind off your soulmate, your family, and your academic future. For a few hours, you were shielded from the dark cloud that seemed to follow you everywhere you went. 

And you embraced the fleeting escape with open arms.

✰✰✰

“So this is the musical protegé you two have been singing praises of?” Mike Carrera’s booming voice enveloped you like a warm blanket.

Sarah and Kie nodded enthusiastically behind you as you smoothed the front of your dress. You sent him a nervous smile and extended your hand, “Yes, Sir. Y/N Montgomery.”

The older man gripped your smaller hand in a firm shake and sent you a dazzling smile, “Mike Carrera. I’ve heard so much about you–it’s a pleasure to finally put a face to the name.”

You grinned, your nerves slowly settling at his welcome.

“Follow me, I’ll show you the set up,” he gestured a hand towards the opposite end of the restaurant where a lone, upright piano stood proudly in the center of a small stage. 

You trailed behind him. You had to stifle a giggle as you caught Sarah and Kie helping themselves to the tap beer at the bar while Mike’s back was turned.

“Got it tuned just last week, so should be in tip-top shape,” Mike rested an arm over the top of the Yamaha.

You nodded and ran your right hand lightly across the keys. You couldn’t fight the grin tugging at your lips as you played a few chords in succession. 

“Dinner opens at 5 and we start closing up at 9. 10 on Saturdays and Fridays,” Mike drummed his fingers along the oak wood, “We’d love to have you come in on Fridays since they’re the busiest, and two other days of your choosing.”

You nodded as you set your tote bag full of sheet music to the side, “That sounds perfect.”

“I was thinking $200 per night,” Mike added.

Your eyes bulged and your lips parted in surprise. 200? You had been expecting $20 per hour, at best. 

Mike’s brows furrowed, “If 200 seems too little, we could discuss–”

“No, no, 200 is perfect. Amazing,” you rushed out, “I can’t thank you enough for this.”

Mike flashed a toothy grin, “Thank you. We’ve been looking to get some live music back up in the joint for a while now. You’re just what we need to get this place really running again.”

You flushed and shook your head as you felt a rush of warmth creeping up your neck, “Well I sure hope I can help with that.”

Mike pushed off the piano, “Kie also mentioned that you need a place to practice. You’re welcome to come in anytime in between lunch and dinner hours, or before and after closing. Whatever floats your boat–the Wreck is your oyster.”

You giggled at his fatherly mannerisms, “Thank you so much, Mr. Carrera. Do you mind if I practice for a bit now before you open up for dinner?”

He raised his arms in surrender and took a dramatic step back from the instrument, “Don’t let me stop you. Have at it.”

You sat on the bench and fiddled with the knob on the side, adjusting the height so your arms fell at a precise 90 degree angle on the keys. You glanced over your shoulder and giggled at the sight of Sarah and Kie leaning across the bar with their heads in their hands, eagerly awaiting the sound of your playing.

You turned back towards the piano and dug out a few pieces of music from your bag, arranging them in the order you’d need. You took a deep breath to steady yourself before letting your fingers fall gracefully over the white keys. You breezed through a few warm up exercises to get accustomed to the unfamiliar instrument. The keys were a bit stickier than the ones you’d grown accustomed to on your Steinway at home, and the pedal a bit more finicky than the one at Madame’s house. Still, this instrument was marvelous in its own way.

You ran through a few pieces you planned on playing before pulling out the dreaded piece you’d neglected to practice the past few days. Your whole body trembled at the mere sight of Chopin’s Fantaisie Impromptu Op. 66. There was no chance in hell you’d be playing the piece that night. But as the events of the past 48 hours had kept you distracted from your duties, you knew you had to get at least a good 30 minutes of practice in.

You twisted your neck, rolled your ankles, and shook out your hands in a poor attempt to keep your Chopin-induced anxiety at bay. 

Unsure where to start with the monstrous piece of music, you decided a quick run through would help identify the problem areas that needed the most attention.

The issue? The whole damn thing was a problem area.

You drilled each measure, each line, over and over. You flicked on a metronome to help keep you on beat. You ignored the growing ache in your hands and kept on.

Minutes away from giving up, you flipped back to the first page of the music. You craned your neck behind you and called out, “Hey, Sarah?”

The Cameron girl nearly fell out of her stool in surprise, and you suppressed a laugh at the sight.

“What’s up?”

“Do you think you could come help me out for a minute?”

Sarah hopped from the barstool and skipped over to the piano with a grin, “I know I’m good at a lot of things, but music is not one of them.”

You rolled your eyes with a laugh, “I just need you to turn the pages for me. You don’t need to read the music or anything–I’ll nod at you when I want you to turn the page.”

Sarah shrugged, “Sounds easy enough.”

She set her beer down on the top of the piano, but quickly removed it at your razor sharp glare. Instead, Sarah opted to set it down beside her feet.

You inhaled deeply through your nose, and exhaled through your parted lips. 

You rested your fingers on the keyboard and counted off in your head before playing the opening set of notes.

Sarah watched you intently, careful not to miss your subtle cues to turn the page. 

Six torturous minutes later, you finally played the last chord. Sarah immediately erupted into manic applause and cheering.

“That was fucking incredible!”

Simultaneously, you released a guttural groan and slammed your hands down on the keyboard in frustration.

Sarah’s cheering halted abruptly and her brows cinched together in confusion, “What’s wrong? That was perfect!”

You shook your head and snatched the music book from the stand, snapping it closed.

“Far from it.”

“What do you mean? That was the first time you made it all the way through! I mean, I don’t know music but I didn’t hear you make any mistakes or–”

“I didn’t make any mistakes,” you sighed, “But it’s all wrong.”

Sarah cocked her head in confusion.

Your tired eyes met hers. You chewed on your bottom lip as you tried to find a way to explain your frustration, “It’s choppy–all cold and mechanical. Everything is right, but there’s no feeling. I have the technique down, but it’s just not flowing through me like I need it to.”

Sarah’s doe eyes swam with bewilderment. She nodded, although you knew she hadn’t understood. 

“Opening in 5!” Mike’s booming voice sliced through the air.

You sighed as you stood from the bench and cracked your back. 

“Don’t worry about it,” you smiled softly at Sarah, “I’m not planning on playing that one tonight anyways.”

Sarah smiled back and returned to her seat at the bar which she and Kie were soon to be booted from as customers came in.

You took a sip of water from the bottle you’d set beside the bench as you prepared yourself for a lengthy performance. Your gut churned as the minutes ticked by. You rarely experienced stage fright, as 16 years of playing had almost entirely numbed you to it. But you’d never been on stage for more than 30 minutes at a time, and 4 hours was a far cry from it.

As the clock struck 5, you settled yourself back onto the bench and prepared your first piece of the night: Chopin’s Waltz No. 7 in C-Sharp Minor, Op. 64 No. 2

The clinking of glasses and cutlery, and soft chatter of customers provided an ambiance you had never experienced while playing before–but one you enjoyed, nonetheless. 

As the closing chords sounded through the restaurant, you were met with a bit of scattered applause. You smiled and couldn't help but sneak a glance behind you. The restaurant was slowly, but surely, starting to fill up. A young boy, no older than eight, sheepishly approached you with a dollar bill in hand. He stood on his tiptoes and dropped the bill inside the tip jar Kie had placed atop the piano while you weren’t looking.

You grinned down at the boy and mouthed a ‘thank you’. A pink blush swept over his chubby cheeks, and he scampered back to his parents.

You returned your attention to the instrument before you. You moved on autopilot as you breezed through the first few pieces in your set for the night. You had carefully picked out a selection of classical, jazz, and contemporary pieces to ensure a variety of genres. You had even thrown in some modern classics everyone would know, from A Thousand Miles to Bohemian Rhapsody. You fought to contain your laughter as Sarah and Kie obnoxiously sang along to the famous Queen anthem.

Completely immersed in the music, you hadn’t even noticed the arrival of a familiar band of Pogues.

“So this is the surprise you two were going on about?” Pope grinned as he and John B approached Sarah and Kie’s table. 

“Isn’t she incredible?” Kie beamed.

Kie’s smile dropped as she noticed JJ lingering behind the two boys. His face was white as a sheet as he stared in shock at the stage.

“What’s wrong with him?” she asked Pope and John B.

A cloud of tension brewed over them as JJ’s eyes snapped to Kie’s.

“You didn’t think to mention she was gonna be here?” he snapped.

Sarah frowned as her eyes set into a menacing glare, “We know if we said something you’d pussy out. Can you get over yourself, just for one night? There’s no point denying it, it’s so obvious you two are soul–”

Sarah yelped as John B elbowed her sharply, effectively cutting her off.

She narrowed her eyes further as a snarl accompanied JJ’s fury-filled glare, “Fuck this. I’m out of here.”

He swiveled on his heels, but Kie grabbed his elbow and yanked him back towards the table.

“Cool it, dude. We’re just gonna grab some dinner. You don’t need to talk to her.”

JJ opened his mouth to protest, but Kie cut him off, “And John B’s your ride, so you’re stuck with him.”

JJ glared at his group of friends. Pope and John B studied the menu as if they had never seen it before to avoid his menacing stare.

“Fine,” he spit. JJ made sure to take the seat furthest from the stage. “But you’re buying me a beer.”

Kie’s shoulders slumped with relief as she’d effectively deterred his impending explosion, “Deal.”

The Pogues immediately began chatting in an effort to brush past the awkwardness. But JJ couldn’t bring himself to focus on Sarah’s complaining about her brother, or Pope’s in-depth review of the most recent season of Survivor. Despite his best efforts to ignore the display behind him, the only thing he could hear was the ethereal melody of Liszt’s Liebestraume No.3. Although he couldn’t see you, his mind was flooded with pictures of you; memories of you at the piano in your room. He could see the curvature of your elbows, the grace of your fingers gliding across the keys, the crinkles of concentration between your brows, the–

“What the fuck is this?” JJ spluttered at the acrid taste of beer he had subconsciously sipped.

Kie stifled a laugh, “It’s a new IPA my dad’s testing out. This local brewery has been pushing to get on the menu.”

JJ fought back a gag and pushed the pint far away from him, “Well you should tell Mike this shit fucking sucks.”

“Ay, don’t be soft now, J. I thought you could handle your alcohol better than that,” John B teased his childhood friend with a grin.

“Piss off,” JJ grumbled.

He pushed himself out of his seat, and wandered over to the bar to replace the disgusting beer Kie had served him. JJ caught the attention of one of the bartenders he knew well, and waited patiently as the worker subtly slipped him his favorite Pale Ale. As he sipped on the pint, JJ couldn’t help but sneak a glance towards the stage. His lips pursed as he watched Pope approach the piano with a dollar bill in his hand.

“You take song requests?”

Pope’s deep voice made you jump in your seat as you rearranged the sheet music before you. You grinned widely at the Pogue towering above you.

“Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not playing the Star Wars intro for you,” you teased with a subtle smirk.

He clutched a hand against his heart and stumbled back dramatically, “You wound me, Montgomery.” Pope dropped the crumpled up dollar bill inside your now nearly full tip jar, “How about Piano Man?

You laughed, “Didn’t take you for a Billy Joel fan, Pope.”

He shrugged with a smug grin, “What can I say? I’m a fan of the classics.”

Your joyful gaze lingered as he sauntered back over to his table. However, your gut wrenched as you noticed the absence of ruffled blond hair at his table. Still, you shot the rest of the Pogues a timid smile before turning your attention back to the instrument in front of you.

Piano Man. You weren't sure when the last time you’d played the Billy Joel classic was–it must have been years ago. Nevertheless, you straightened your slumped posture, shut your eyes, and let your hands fall along the keys. You could feel the crowd behind you perk up as you played the familiar opening melody. You were forced to stifle your laughter as you heard the Pogues singing along behind you. The onlookers in the busy restaurant broke into applause as the song ended. No one cheered louder than Pope, who had recruited the bartenders into a kick line by the end of the song.

“That’s my little virtuoso!” Sarah shrieked.

You turned back with a toothy grin to wink at your friend. But the curve of your lips faltered as you caught sight of the tousled blond hair you’d been searching for all night. You sucked in a breath as his head turned and his eyes met yours.

Something deep within you churned at the sight of his ocean blues–a sweltering desire only he could pull out of you. Although his eyes were trained directly on you, his gaze was elsewhere; somewhere far beyond the confines of the restaurant, or the island for that matter. Your brows furrowed as you surveyed him, trying to decipher the emotion hidden behind his glassy eyes. But the mask of indifference he’d adorned for the night was impenetrable.

Before you could locate any cracks in his hard exterior, JJ swiveled back towards the table. 

Your hands trembled with a swirl of anxiety, frustration, and longing. It had only been 24 hours since you’d last seen him. But his absence had felt striking. For years, you’d prayed to all things good and holy to be rid of his bond. You’d wished for just one day void of his every feeling. For the first time in your life, you realized, you hadn’t felt him all day. No punches, no stubbing toes, not not even the swift slap against your thigh when you cracked your knuckles. You’d finally gotten your wish. 

But you’d take the sickening crunch of bones underneath your knuckles a hundred times over not feeling anything at all.

A switch flipped within you. You forced your eyes away from the back of JJ’s head, and instead looked at Sarah. You cocked your head, gesturing for the Kook princess to come over. Sarah swiftly set down the beer she’d been sipping on and approached you.

“What’s up? Are you okay? I can tell him to leave–”

“No, don’t,” you cut her off, “You mind turning the pages for me again?”

Sarah’s eyes widened as you pulled out the piece you’d been pouring over earlier before the restaurant opened.

“I thought you said you weren’t ready to play that one yet?”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever feel ready,” you mumbled as you placed the book on the stand, “But now’s as good a time as any to try.”

Sarah nodded and positioned herself to the side, staring intently at you to ensure she didn’t miss your head nodding cues.

Your eyes fluttered shut. But this time, you didn’t count down in your head. You didn’t visualize the opening phrase, or the notes on the page. Instead, you let yourself think back to the night before. The feeling of JJ’s strong arms wrapped around your sobbing body. The fear in his eyes as he carried you to shore. The snarl on his lips as he yelled at you in the country club bathroom. You lowered the carefully constructed levee in your mind, and let all your memories of him come flooding in. 

Your eyes flicked open, and you began without a second thought.

This time, the notes symbolized each word you’d exchanged with JJ. Your right hand played your biting tone, and your left played his gruff voice. They spoke to each other. They fought, and they cried. But they sang together in perfect unison. 

Sarah watched in awe as you moved with a fervor she had never seen before. She swiftly flipped the page at each subtle nod. Sarah wasn’t the only one captivated by your performance–the previously uninterested customers had diverted their attention to the piano player on stage, and every conversation seemed to hush. 

As you played the ending phrase of the piece, you released a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. Your eyes remained shut as you let the final notes ring through the restaurant until they naturally concluded.

You were brought back to reality when the remaining customers erupted into applause. 

“That was perfect,” Sarah gleamed down at you.

You let out a breathy laugh, “Yeah. It was.”

You craned her neck back towards the table of Pogues. While the smiling faces of Kie, John B, and Pope warmed your heart, JJ’s empty seat chilled your veins.

“What’s the time?” you asked Sarah.

The Kook fumbled for her phone, “8:40. You’re here ‘till 9?”

You nodded and put away the book of Chopin pieces, “You guys can head out, if you want. There’s no need to wait for me.”

Sarah shook her head, “No way we’re leaving early on your opening night! Besides, John B can give you a ride home in the Twinkie.”

“Don’t worry about me, Kate and Top are coming to get me at 9:15,” you smiled appreciatively.

Sarah conceded and walked backwards to her table, “As you wish. But we’re here for the whole show!”

You let out a half-hearted giggle and sighed as you turned back to the piano. Exhaustion seemed to finally set in as you became acutely aware of the ache in your lower back and the cramping of your fingers. But you still had a job to do. So, you relied on muscle memory to get through the last few pieces of your set. You deliberately chose songs you knew like the back of your hand, as you had a feeling you’d be drained of energy by this point. As you continued playing, the crowd slowly filtered out until just the Pogues remained.

“That was pretty incredible, Miss Montgomery,” Mike Carrera gleamed as he approached you. 

You sent him a tired smile as you gathered your sheet music back into your bag, “Thanks, Mr. Carrera.”

“You’ve outdone yourself. Why don’t you head home and get some rest?” he handed you a white envelope as he spoke.

You nodded and stuffed the payment at the bottom of your bag.

As soon as he’d retreated, you were instantly bombarded by the chattering group of Pogues. You weakly returned their hugs and tried your best to match their high energy, but to no avail. You were completely and utterly drained. Instead, you found yourself looking around the restaurant, hoping to catch a glimpse of blue eyes and blond hair.

“He went out back,” John B mumbled into your ear.

You jumped, startled by his voice. You fought the blush creeping up your neck as you’d just been caught red-handed looking for JJ. Still, you sent John B a soft smile, and slipped away from the group while they were distracted by something Pope said.

Your heart thumped in your chest as you snuck towards the door leading to the back porch. The salty breeze engulfed you instantly as you pushed it open, and you greedily breathed in the soothing sensation.

You spotted JJ leaning on the railing, staring out at the rolling waves of the ocean. His untamed hair billowed in the breeze, and the full moon above seemed to kiss his nose. You wiped your sweaty palms on your dress as you approached him quietly. You mimicked his stance leaning against the railing, making sure to keep a comfortable distance between you two.

“Avoiding me now?” you spoke gently, as if approaching a wild animal.

He simply grunted, his eyes unmoving from the ocean before him.

You sighed, and diverted your gaze to the crashing waves as well. Your mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. But nothing came out. There were so many things you wanted to say–but your brain seemed to be short circuiting.

You snuck a glance at him. You observed the bump on the top of his nose, and the strain of his biceps against his white t-shirt.

“I like that shirt on you,” you lamely stated.

You cringed, and kicked yourself internally.

JJ snorted, but the frown etched on his lips remained.

“Please, don’t try to make nice with me,” his scratchy voice tickled something in your brain.

You huffed, “What? You’d rather I curse you out?”

His silence made your blood boil, but you forced yourself to remain level-headed.

You sighed before making another effort to engage him, “Look, I think we should at least talk about last night. I’m sorry for–”

“Talk about what?” he snapped, turning to face you. You shrunk underneath his menacing glare. “I sent you spiraling, you tried to drown yourself in the ocean. I saved you, and then you tried to drown yourself in alcohol instead. You see the running theme?”

You flinched at his razor sharp tone, “That’s not–”

“The truth? It is. Don’t be fucking dumb, Montgomery. Don’t delude yourself into thinking anything good has come from me coming into your life.”

Your stomach lurched. You opened your mouth to respond, but JJ cut you off again.

“You were right. We’re no good for each other. And I don’t wanna be the one responsible for ruining your life, crushing your hopes and dreams. So let’s just leave it at that.”

For the first time that night, his facade slipped. And the glint of agony in his troubled eyes was unmistakable.

“What about what I want?” your voice trembled.

JJ’s eyes narrowed as he tried to maintain his mask of indifference, “What do you want?”

“I…” you paused. That was the question you’d been trying, and failing, to find an answer for all day. 

“I don’t know,” you whispered.

JJ scoffed. He pushed himself off the railing, and turned to go back inside.

Panic seized you as you watched him walk away. 

Maybe you haven’t found anything in common with him because you haven’t allowed yourself to try, Kate’s words from earlier rang through you.

With a sudden surge of courage, you lurched forward and wrapped your fingers around JJ’s wrist.

The feeling of his skin against yours was as electrifying as your first touch.

“Take me out,” you blurted before you could talk yourself out of it.

JJ’s hard glare softened slightly, and his brows furrowed. Anxiety gripped you as you watched his chapped lips part in surprise.

“We can’t possibly decide this won’t work when we don’t really know anything about each other,” you spoke with conviction despite the fear twisting your insides, “If by the end of it we still feel the same way, then at least we have the peace of mind that we tried.”

You could practically see the gears turning in JJ’s head as he mulled over your words.

“So let’s start over. Take me out on a proper date,” you concluded your long-winded speech.

You were certain he could feel the heavy thump of your heart in his own chest. His silence made your knees buckle, and you wanted nothing more than to bury yourself in the fine sand below. Just as you let your fingers slip from his wrist, his hand shot out to catch yours.

“Okay,” JJ whispered.

Your shoulders slumped with relief. Okay. He said ‘okay’.

“Okay,” you breathed out, “Tuesday?”

“Can’t. I have work,” he replied.

“Wednesday?” you countered.

“6:00?”

“I have piano until 7:00.”

“Then 7:00.”

“Okay.”

The blaring sound of a car horn cut the awkward exchange short. You whipped around to the source of the sound, and caught sight of Topper’s unmistakable Range Rover waiting in the parking lot. Reluctantly, you released your hand from JJ’s.

“That’s my ride,” you whispered.

JJ nodded and took an awkward step back. You hiked your bag on your shoulder and turned to leave.

“You were incredible tonight, by the way,” JJ rasped as you walked away.

You paused as your heart skipped a beat. You craned your neck and sent your soulmate a sincere smile over your shoulder. You wanted nothing more than to turn back and give yourself completely to the bond. But you let the rational part of your brain take over, and beat on towards the waiting car. 

And as you strolled towards the black SUV, the ethereal melody of Fantaisie Impromptu played in your mind. It echoed through you like never before. Affettuoso. With feeling. 

What was once created by Chopin was now yours, forever branded by JJ Maybank.

[the-ninja-legacy-whip]

What type of books does everyone read?

Kai: Doesn't really read due to how much he struggles with it, but does enjoy a good adventure story

Jay: A bizarre combination of comic books, poetry compilations, graphic novels, and instruction manuals

Cole: Also not much of a reader, but can be gripped by a good mystery story if he gets his hands on one, and the occasional cheesy romance

Zane: Huge reader, will literally read any kind of stories but has a particular fascination with non-fiction. Also reads cookbooks for fun, and has been seen studying a dictionary.

Nya: Also a huge reader, but uh...mostly history books, and anything she can get concrete information from. Hardly ever reads for "fun"

Lloyd: Known comic book reader, but also begrudgingly has read many history books (although most of them were written by his mom lmao)

Jesse: Allegedly has a stash of trashy romance novels (source: Miranda) and has a ton of magic books

Olivia: Allegedly a horror and fantasy-story junkie (source: Bridget)

Antonia: Looooves a good thriller tale and reading up on old urban legends

Harumi: Becomes much more of a reader post-moving in with Hutchins, but has some...eccentric tastes (hey where did you get that book on resurrection–?!)

[writers-potion]

hi!! im working on a story that takes place at a 2012 public high school - the issue with that is that i was not in high school in 2012 lmao. do you have any tips on how to keep it feeling realistic?

Well, neither was I!! But here are some tips:

Define Your General Setting

Sure, high school has a different feel compared to an average town/city setting. However, it is still a part of the bigger community, and will be impacted by external factors.

What part of the world are your writing about? What's the general economy like? What's the most common occupation of the kid's parents? What's the prevailing fashion/art/music style?

Your teens will be impacted by the popular culture and trends of the time, so start by outlining the general setting!

Fashion

I think this is where schools have changed the most. There are going to be some overlaps between early 2010s and late 2000s, so if you think in the direction of Y2K fashion, it should fit.

On a general note, I think 2010s fashion was vibrant, with lots of colors and flashy items...

Side fringes and backcombed/straightened hair were still very popular

most girls had huge messy sock buns on top of their heads

boys had the Justin Bieber cut.

Jack Wills and Hollister were pretty popular, and a lot of girls had a Paul's Boutique jacket and a Jane Norman bag for their PE kit (or one of the Hollister bags with a topless guy on).

Converse were universally cool, and there were lots of imitation brands.

Open flannel shirt over a t-shirt was a pretty popular outfit.

Skinny jeans and band t-shirts

bright chunky rubber band bracelets.

Vans were cool among the alternative kids.

Getting different colours on your braces was cool.

Most of the boys had at least one of those t-shirts with the buttons and the mismatched cuffs.

School-uniform-wise, short ties with big fat knots were cool, and hard kids would pluck a stripe or two out of their tie.

Tucking in shirts was initially not cool, then it became cool to tuck at the front but not the back.

Lots of boys wore black trainers, and lots of girls wore those ballet pumps.

Girls doing their lips with their foundation, with a thick ring of black eyeliner and spidery clumpy mascara - and having a visible orange line where your foundation met your neck was common.

Multiple ear piercings were popular with the alternative crowd

Belly button piercings were big for girls

Just search up some pictures on Google, you should get plenty of "Early 2010s teen fashion starter pack"

Social Media

Smartphones were already popular, and with the introduction of Snapchat(2011) and Instagram(2010), the social media hype was just starting to boom

Facebook and Twitter were popular - basically everyone was on it

TikTok(2016) and Discord(2015) didn't exist yet

Pictochat

Phones were allowed in the classroom, but phones/laptops weren't an important part of school work like it is now.

Digital Devices

Phones-wise, most people had pretty basic dumbphones (although they were just called mobiles back then), and not everyone carried them all the time

Blackberry (BBM), Nokia, LG Cholate, iPhone if you're rich enough

Most kids were on PAYG phones, so you'd run out of credit sometimes (i.e. no more calls or texts) and have to go to a physical shop to top up. Nobody really had data, and there was always a moment of panic if you accidentally opened the web browser on your phone because it was so expensive. Wifi became a thing around 2012.

Nintendo DSes: Mario Kart, Animal Crossing, Nintendogs

iPods or another MP3 Player

Slag

Slang-wise, Urban Dictionary is a good resource.

Fleek, peng and YOLO were popular with some crowds. Leetspeak was a thing online, especially in nerdy communities. Emoji were starting to take off 

rawr" (or "rawr means I love you in dinosaur") and "xD" as a laughing face 

Music

One Direction, Jedward, Katy Perry, Carly Rae Jepson, Justin Bieber, JLS, Little Mix, Beyonce, Paramour, My Chemical Romance, Bring Me The Horizon, Black Veil Brides, Ke$ha, Eminem, The Killers, OMI, Gotye, Bruno Mars, Macklemore, Skrillex, deadmau5, blink-182, Green Day, Taylor Swift, Lady Gaga, Nicki Minaj, Rihanna, Lana Del Rey.

Fandom Stuff

Twilight was huge, then Hunger Games.

Harry Potter was everywhere all the time, people would go to midnight releases for the books and movies.

High School Musical was popular, then that crowd migrated to Glee and Mean Girls.

The Olympics were in London in 2012

Other Stuff

Reese's peanut butter cups, Marshmallow Fluff, Nerds, etc. 

Veganism wasn't well-known, but still there were a few

Lots of casual homophbia, kids jsut genuinely not knowing rather than truly hateful towards it

Here are some movie suggestions, that shows school like in early-mid 2010s quite well:

Easy A

The Duff

LOL

For YA Novels - Be Timeless

Before you start doing any of the things above, remember this if you're writing a YA novel: The key of this genre is to feel somewhat timless, taking readers back to their high school years no matter when and where they've gone through it.

High school is the phase where many people feel awkward, unsure of themselves, feeling special in their own head but knowing that they're not really.

And it's not like the problems just disappear when we hit adult life. A major reason why YA novels are so popular is that they address themes that are repeatedly felt by the general human being, often in a such a direct, straightforward way that provides vicarious satisfaction.

[andy-wm]

3D by JK (feat. JH) - my take.

Ok, unpopular opinion maybe, and I might get my ass beaten for this (not in a good way 🤣)

Feel free to disagree RESPECTFULLY.

Disclaimer: If anyone comes at me with that cancel bullshit I will block you, because we all get to have an opinion.

If my post enrages you, scroll past until you can be civil, then come back and talk. Or block me. I dont mind.

And don't tell me that because I don't love this song I have to hand in my ARMY card... I'm not going to.

🙂💜🙂

I'll start by saying I love JK so, so much. Adore him. Will always support him.

But for me, 3D is a misstep.

My feeling is Hybe should have reconsidered releasing it as it is.

JK's lyrics are fun and sexy. The innuendo is on point. The melody is great and the chorus has excellent sing-along value. Even though I'm not a huge pop music fan, I like the vibe.

The MV dancers are awesome, and I got a kick out of the fire hydrant metaphor.

And in that jacket with nothing under it, JK looks hot enough to melt asphalt.

However....

Including Jack Harlow's rap IMO is a mistake. It sucks, frankly. Not in a good way.

It not only misses the mark on the tone of the rest of the song but his lyrics are really just offensive. Misogynistic. And racial refrences are just... not cricket. It's 2023 not 1995, regardless of what his hairstyle tells you.

His lyrics sound like an incel bragging about their sex life when all they've ever done is watch porn. From his words, I doubt he knows how to please any person but himself.

His message is gross, but its still just... generic. Like he went to urban dictionary for spicy language and then googled how to treat women like shit. There's nothing original about what he's saying. He's not even being gross in an intersting way. It's gross AND boring.

(Jack, if you're reading this, sorry my guy you gotta do better.)

I've been army since 2018 and this is the first BTS song I have tried to find merit in and given up.

I honestly tried to be into it and i just... can't. It doesn't sit well with me.

This is a new experience for me because even when BTS release something i don't immediately love, i still stream and watch and let it sink in, or I work on figuring out what I am missing and why it's ACTUALLY good even if i can't grasp it.

This... it's just... not good, in my opinion.

I have to clarify here...

It isn't about explicit content, i am totally down for that. If anyone read my post on Seven, they will know my response to that song. In a nutshell, I believe all adults who want to, should happily and shamelessly be doing ALL the horizontal tango. Every type, every day, in every way. With anyone and everyone they fancy as long as all parties are informed and consenting adults who are equally enjoying the experience.

Yes. I am all about getting down.

That doesn't mean treating your partners like a body count or using and abusing them with no consideration. That's not cool.

**PSA: please be safe and use protection. Get tested regularly if you have multiple partners. Don't do anything you don't feel good about and dont stay with partners who harm or manipulate you 💜**

Now, back to the smut.

Some criticisms i saw of Seven were about how dirty it was. A few people were upset because JK said fuck, and because he sang about how and when he liked to fuck. But more criticism was levelled at Letto. Why?

It seemed like it was because she's a woman, singing about sex.

Letto totally owns her sexuality and she knows what she wants. I snorted with delight at how deliciously filthy her lyrics were. Some very clever wordplay made her verse so visceral, and pretty shocking to the pearl-clutchers, without her ever saying anything directly. I really enjoyed it.

She was telling us straight up how good she is in bed. Good for her. She totally rocks. And she wasn't disrespecting anyone. She didn't need to do that to make herself cool AF.

The difference between Letto's rap and jack harlow's is that jack sounds like he's just looking at the women he's singing about as a hole to stick his dick in. Women have fought for long enough for equality and respect. They don't need this bullshit. You can sing about getting down, and you can be absolutely filthy and nasty and wild, and you can do it without degrading your partners.

I did read a theory about this song being social commentary on toxic masculinity. You can find it here and you can read it below:

Its not bad as a theory. At least it wouldn't be if Namjoon or Yoongi or Hobi - or Jungkook himself - had written the song. If that were the situation we'd see some inkling of self awareness in the rap, and maybe a hint of character development. But there's none.

Sorry ARMY, this is not the class of lyricism we have come to expect.

If jack is trying to make a social statement^*, or play a character, he is not succeeding in showing any growth or humanity at all. He's really just that stereotype.

In the last few lines, after he offers to fly his victim from Korea to Kentucky, he says "and you ain’t gotta guarantee me nothing I just wanna see if I get lucky."

How considerate...

All I see is zero care factor about the actual person he's trying to get with. Which is quite different from JK's lyrics, which show awareness that he's interacting with a conscious, living human being, not a piece of furniture.

jack follows with "I just wanna meet you in the physical and see if you would touch me"

Ugh. Not with a ten foot pole, douchebag.

And how about, in his first verse "All my ABGs get cute for me"

Good god, really? Is he seriously saying this?

So its a no for me.

The ONLY saving grace is that there's an alternative version which is pretty fun. It's almost as if Hybe knew we would hate the version with jack harlow. Wow, such insight!

Now, i know that's not the only reason they made an alternative. They needed a clean version for US radio play (let's be real, what possible other purpose can this song serve? *°)

But they could have censored jack's... actually they couldn't. The rap verses can't be salvaged. They genuinely have no merit, the only hope for the song is totally removing them.

What does that tell you?

ARMY will no doubt still chart the main track but personally, I would feel morally compromised if i supported that version. So I'll stick to the alternative and hope for better things to come.

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

^* Stylecaster doesnt think so either. I visited their website to check thr lyrics. They said, of D3, "Meanwhile, Jack Harlow brings the cool with his two verses as he raps about all the women he could pull"

Uh, really? I hope that's intended to be ironic.

*° The MV had only 4.5million views after 12 hours. And we know what brilliant strategists Hybe employs. I am travelling in Korea right now. There was no promo visible here. And it was no accident that it was released at lunchtime on Chuseok - the biggest famiily holiday of the year - when relatively few people in Korea would be available to engage with it. THEY KNEW IT WAS A STINKER.

[aemiron-main]

mike having food issues isn’t a stretch, begging people to quit acting like it is

i just think it’s funny that people treat the idea of “there’s subtext that points to mike having issues with food” as some sort of ridiculous stretch and claim that it’s all just based on finn’s body when the show literally gave us Mike being mocked by other characters because of his weight, when Angela’s friend calls him a twig:

Like. I’m sorry to everyone who’s pointing out the urban dictionary of twig referring to a gay man, but even if that’s also the case, even if the duffers were consulting urban dictionary, the reality is that it’s far more commonly used to refer to someone skinny in a rude way.

Mike’s also the character who mocks Hopper’s weight in s3, calling his face a “fat tomato,” and then interestingly enough, we see tomato imagery again when Chrissy’s mom is tormenting her about her weight and directly contributing to her ED:

El is the one who makes the tomato comment, but Mike is the one who brings weight into it.

And then the next time we see tomato imagery is when Chrissy’s mom is tormenting her about her weight and we get the tomato pin cushion, and with the way the scene is setup, out attention is drawn to that cushion when you actually watch the shot in motion.

I feel like a lot of people on here have a very narrow definition of disordered eating and are basing all of their criticism on that narrow definition and are acting like everyone is saying that Mike is a Typical Anorexic Who Is Constantly Aware Of His Problems With Food. Instead, what I’m saying, at least, is that there’s strong subtext that points to Mike having anxiety and avoidance related food issues that stem from the frequent conflict at the Wheeler dinner table (something we see again in S4 when there’s conflict at the Byers’ dinner table and they go out of their way to show that Mike isn’t eating and also show Will noticing the fact that Mike isn’t eating), which still very much constitutes an eating disorder.

Will stares at Mike’s plate repeatedly, even when the scene cuts away and back to him. This isn’t a one time glance, Will literally cannot keep his eyes on his own plate:

It happens throughout the whole scene. Not only is the audience noticing that Mike isn’t eating, but other characters are noticing too.

And we also see Nancy calling Mike “disgusting,” for his food choices in S1, which is an offhand, relatively mild comment on its own, but when combined with the constant conflict at the Wheeler dinner table, especially conflict at criticism directed at Mike specifically, it becomes a setup for Mike’s anxiety and avoidance related food issues.

The setup is there for Mike to have avoidance/anxiety-related issues with food. It’s in the show, whether you’re comfortable with it or not.

I genuinely think that a lot of people on here (even those who have struggled with disordered eating themselves, because one person’s experience does NOT mean they understand everyone’s experience) could benefit from a deeper and wider understanding of what constitutes an eating disorder/disordered eating and various types of eating disorders, including ARFID. Disordered eating is far more common than people think it is, and it isn’t limited to “person who knowingly starves themselves because they hate their body,” it frequently has nothing to do with a person’s body at all, and just because you’ve had a different experience or a lack of knowledge of other experiences and research about eating disorders doesn’t negate the existence of knowledge and experiences that are different from yours.

Hopper very much deals with a disordered mentality around weight and food, and I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that the same applies to Mike (albeit in a different way) considering how often the two of them are paralleled and how often those parallels are scenes that specifically relate to size/weight (see: Mike calling Hopper fat in S3, and the S4 hug scene where mike comments on Hopper’s weight/him shrinking).

I’ve repeatedly seen people say things about how there’s a “million other reasons,” for all of these scenes involving Mike and his food issues, and yet, they conveniently, never actually provide those magical alternate reasons, and would rather try and make people out as being weird for pointing out obvious subtext in the show. The evidence I’ve provided here is barely scraping the surface of all of the evidence that points towards Mike having food issues, and yet, people act like it’s some ridiculous stretch but also never actually provide an alternate explanation because apparently “the guy who’s frequently shown signs of anxiety and avoidance issues and self esteem issues and whose family dinner table is full of conflict and criticism directed at him has some anxiety and avoidance and self esteem issues that are tied to the conflict directed at him at his family dinner table,” is simply a far-off, insane stretch.

Begging people to put their thinking hats on and be willing to accept that their knowledge on a topic might be missing pieces and that they may be looking at a topic such as disordered eating through a narrow lens.

[uniiiquehecrt]

The definition of a himbo (according to urban dictionary) is as follows:

"Himbo - A dumb or naive man, who, despite looking like an asshole Chad, is actually sweet, respectful, and kind. Typically large, beefy, and relatively handsome, but friendly. Gentle giants, if you will. Perhaps the best example of a himbo is Kronk, from The Emperor;s New Groove. He is large, strong, and stupid, but extremely kind and respectful to everyone. He is also incredibly innocent and unaware of many events happening around him, as most himbos are."

The key words here being the following:

dumb or naive; stupid.

Other definitions also include:

An attractive man, often very buff or fit, that is not particularly smart or bright but often tries to be respectful, particularly to women.

A man who generally is stupid, but tries hard to be a respectful man.

Thor

is

NOT

A

HIMBO

and

has never been.

by any definition EXCEPT when approved by Taika Waititi.

But, thank you for seeing that he is, in fact, respectful, kind, and very hot.

We can at least agree on that much.

[my-autism-adhd-blog]

Hi everyone,

I found a fascinating article about ADHD and being a DOOM piker. Here are some excerpts from the article:

DOOM piles are a cleaning tactic and a way of reducing visual clutter. Essentially, it’s stashing random items that need to be organized in one place, to be dealt with later. We all have DOOM piles — a junk drawer or a place where we put piles of clutter before guests visit. There can be DOOM piles, DOOM bags, DOOM boxes, or one of my son’s favorites, a DOOM desk.

DOOM piles and ADHD have been a focus on TikTok and other social media sites. The Urban Dictionary describes DOOM piles as “the one and only” way someone with ADHD organizes.

The struggle with organization for children and adults with ADHD stems from their executive function deficits. Executive functioning is a neurological process that is important for planning and initiating tasks, time management, organization, and emotional control.

I will leave the full article below so anyone can read it if you’d like. I hope many of you found this interesting.

ADHD

DOOM Piling