#and then the WHOLE FUCKING COMMUNITY it seemed like all said “nah game’s trash”

[kayzero]

“Need another reason why Marluxia fits in perfectly [in Kingdom of Corona]? How about the fact that he kept Naminé locked away in a single room in order to abuse her powers, the same exact way Mother Gothel did to Rapunzel?

And now the sort of protection that Marluxia suggests for Rapunzel aligns exactly with Mother Gothel’s goals.”

—“Kingdom Hearts 3 Is Great and I Will Die On That Hill” (https://youtu.be/pytjUj-ciJw)

[m1ckeyb3rry]

AHAHA WAIT yuki stealing the show again with a badass entrance i love it

DARK ON DARK TYPE HATE CRIMES /j LMAO I think it’s pretty common for deino to have relatively volatile personalities too so that’ll be really interesting but LMAOO reader catching deino out of necessity so it doesn’t trash their campsite is so funny Karasu comes back to like half their things a mess and a bunch of used quick balls on the floor like “what the fuck just happened” and readers like “I had to use ur quick balls to save the world teehee” I’m laughing so hard otoya would so do that nurse joy asks him to uncover and entire underground abuse black market scene and hes like “anything for you babygirl” meanwhile reader who stepped away to stock on potions comes back and is like “you agreed to WHAT”

The one thing yk I won’t forget is that gorgeous graphic it’s burned in my mind dw but swapping out houndoom for each main pokemon mmmm yes imagine lining them all up side by side after they’re done that would look so clean

NAH FR I’m pretty sure I read that shortly before we started talking I’m ngl that’s probably one of the bigger influences of me requesting fwtkac

SHSHSHS wait yeah I forgot that a good amount of people don’t know the concept of familial/platonic love dw we manifest pursuit will be THE piece to enlighten the community then they’ll all understand the wonders of non-romantic love

LMFAOAOA I forgot that’s one of the starter picking scenarios he would so be that professor (Niko saving his ass would be SO funny Niko coming in clutch in oaeu and pursuit)

Wait also kinda unrelated but pursuit got me thinking…so it’s set in kalos right…do you remember that one plot involving the zygarde zygotes (idr what they’re actually called) but iirc in the show too the gang carries around one of the zygotes only later it’s revealed that they come together to form zygarde imagine otoya picks one up eventually and hes like great another weird looking small cute useless thing until one day it turns into a zygarde and he finally gets his badass pokemon moment (idk if we’re keeping this game or show consistent so even if he doesn’t catch zygarde he’ll still get to battle alongside it maybe or sth)

LMAO wait you writing on your iPad is insane for some reason I imagined it being a computer…actually now that I think about it if you have one of those cases that flips into a keyboard that makes sense but whenever I type on the iPad screen keyboard my typos increase like tenfold and my speed drops to like zero idk why I just HATE the feel of it LMAOOO

Yeah I’m also very confused (as usual with jjk) so yeah seems like last chapter is a mission?? Wait I didn’t even register that in three days all the pain and suffering will come to an end guys what!!!! I did hear some people talking that there’s hints pointing to some form of a sequel and I’m just like HUHH but ig we’ll find out in like three days

I bet when aiku offered only to split the dessert Niko was like “I’m not getting paid enough for this shit”

HAHAHA Karasu the only home wrecker I’ll accept I’m gonna miss the aikulations /hj but VERY EXCITED LMAOO Reo said “no I don’t want otoya cooties” or imagine alternatively we get evil team v Reo with “I don’t take advice from anyone shorter than me” LMFAOOOO

IM FR EATING JT ALL UP like what’ll Mira put out next/whats gonna happen next week I’ve said this a bunch before but your world building/development skills>>>>> makes the whole story a lot more fun to read and a lot more immerse esp for me personally I end up visualizing everything fr like an episode of a show in my mind so I love all the little details and Easter egg like things too!! You might think I’m kinda insane but I think esp because I’ve been slowly watching the bllk dub version whenever Barou was like “you fucking donkey” I read it in his dub voice LMFAOO

SHDSHSHA no it’s ok this way people get to marinate with their thoughts of s2 and then once you open them back up you’ll get the best of the best ideas that have been brewing in peoples minds and have been given time to age and develop!!!! Idk how you keep track of so many if it were me I’d probably end up replying to the wrong one LMAO

- Karasu anon

YUKI ALWAYS COMING IN W THE BADASS ENTRANCES omg wait imagine karasu’s inspired to get a ground type after seeing steelix in action against electric types and that’s why he’s so quick to grab gible

if you think about it the entirety of pursuit is just dark on dark hate crimes LMAOOO between the houndoom v houndoom battle, houndoom and deino disagreements, and literally all of barou’s team it’s fr just dark types going insane FJDJDHSJ okay wait it would be funny if he got mad at her but lowkey in my mind he’s like really worried at first maybe because she lowkey had to chase the deino?? so he gets back and the campsite is trashed and she’s nowhere to be found and he’s like uhh wtf and freaks out until she comes like “look at my new pokémon karasu 😄” AHAHAH that’s his first experience with reader just randomly going missing/dying…wait because the way i just went on an entire rant about how they’re strictly platonic/familial but now i kind of need him ☹️ i need to get back to thinking of more nagi scenes or else i’m going to swerve JFDJDJJS

HELP THAT’S EXACTLY THE VIBE TOO since in kalos the pokémart and pokémon center are in one building it’s even funnier because she’s literally at the checkout line and she overhears him and she’s like HELLO ⁉️ AT LEAST GET TULLIA AND KARASU TO COME THEY’RE THE ONES WITH SOMEWHAT FULL TEAMS 😰 but tullia and karasu are up to smth (ZERO idea what) so it’s truly reader otoya froakie and houndour against the world…the craziest part is that they’re actually successful LMAOOO I LOVE THEM truly a dumbass x dumbass chemical reaction (this scenario is def also a plus one to the karasu freak out tally JFDJDJSJ he and tullia get back to the pokémon center and are like “where are y/n and otoya???” and nurse joy’s like “busting a pokémon abuse ring for me 🥰” insert many expletives from our fave baby crow who immediately freaks out and goes to collect them only to find them just chilling because by that point they’ve already managed to bust the ring so it’s like nbd)

AHAHA I DO LOVE THE PURSUIT GRAPHIC IT’S SO PRETTY i think it would be fun to have the diff pokémon there for the side stories esp because they all have pretty sprites for their art since most of them are from the earlier gens when the art was still really good 🥹 omg i’ll def make a compilation of all of the headers too that would def be top ten most aesthetic m1ckeyb3rry posts LMAOO

FRRR like yes we’ve got this dramatic amazing slowburn going on with nagi but at the same time our friendships with tullia karasu and even otoya are so important to the story?? as well as the barou x reader cousin bond…considering how many people loved the gojo and reader bond in pomegranate ink i think barou and reader are def safe it’s just people mighttttt swerve to karasu especially because i like him as a character so i’ll definitely glaze him when i write him vs otoya won’t get quite the same treatment HAHAHAAH (love him too but he’s very bullyable so he gets to be menaced by tullia instead)

IMAGINE AIKU GETTING CHASED INTO A TREE BY A ZIGZAGOON LIKE PROFESSOR BIRCH 😭😭😭 and then niko has to save him…actually aiku lowkey gives professor birch hold on

wait this is too good I’M CRYINGGG old age did my man aiku dirty (this is def making it into its own post i’m sobbing at this)

i’ve considered adding legendaries into pursuit especially because xerneas is one of my fav legendaries but for some reason i feel like it takes away from the feel of the verse?? it’s meant to be a bit of a different look at the pokémon world while not getting too crazily violent like some au’s do and since the legendaries are meant to be gods i think that IF they appear it’ll be very awe inspiring and terrifying…lowkey otoya does kinda look like zygarde if i was assigning legendaries he’d def have zygarde, nagi would have mew, karasu would have zekrom, reo would have suicune, chigiri would have zapdos, tullia would have cresselia, reader would have rayquaza (just based on her team’s vibes…going off of hers alone she’d probably have like diancie or shaymin or smth)

FJFJSJSJ YES I HAVE A KEYBOARD CASE i do have a laptop as well but it’s windows since most programs run better on windows and i write on apple pages so i can also write on my phone in a pinch which is why i have to use my ipad!! i used to use my laptop and google docs but in 2021ish i got my ipad w the keyboard case because it’s easier to carry around and fit into bags than a whole laptop…google docs is kinda glitchy and crashes a lot (there’s also a lot of ai rumors w them but idk how true those are so they didn’t impact my decision) especially once documents get longer and you know how much i write (i had to split pomegranate ink into three separate google docs) so i switched to pages in 2023!! i actually really like it much more than google docs i’d say…the customization options are much more fun and accessible and it runs way nicer without freaking out. but it does mean i can’t use my laptop to write sadly 😓💔 for a month my laptop was getting repaired so i had to borrow my uncle’s which is a macbook and it was SO NICE being able to write on my phone, laptop, or ipad as i chose but sadly all good things come to an end and now i’m back to my ipad and phone alone (i love my ipad though it’s super fun and functional that’s also where all of my silly diagrams are sketched out and notes are scribbled before outlines get upgraded to notion so it is nice having everything on one device for sure!!)

i feel like there must be a sequel there’s so many weird things that have been introduced in the last few chapters??? like that random ass old lady idk 😭 can’t believe we might have jjk boruto…tbh idek if i’ll read it if so because i’m very much not into the story arm 😓 ig i’ll probably learn what’s happening in it by osmosis/tik tok but anyways…we’ll see what happens ig

HAHAHA we still get aikulations in the nagi version, the yukimiya version, and ofc aiku’s own version 🤩 otoya reo and karasu do not have any aiku povs though sadly ☹️ but he’s still there still goofy and still keeping things silly so it’s all good

STOPP I’M BLUSHING for me i can clearly envision the scenes i’m writing in my mind like SUPER SUPER clearly as if i’m watching it happen in a show so i’m not writing or coming up with something new i’m just describing what i’m seeing in my head?? maybe that’s where the immersive feel comes from either way i’m glad it’s coming through!! and i’m actually thinking about dropping something very special tonight hehehe you might go crazy when you see it (no promises though so if you see this and are like “what is she talking about” i either fell asleep or chickened out)

HAHA it’s def a lot but i do love hearing everyone’s ideas!! depending on my mindset once everything’s cleared i might keep things shut for a bit so i can get back to working on my long fics…bllk fandom cannot think my max capacity is 41k words w bfb LMAOOO LET ME REACH THAT DELICIOUS 200K WORD RANGE AGAIN PLEASEEEE LFJSKDKSK anyways we will see how things go ig!! taking it day by day…i have a really good mix of characters in my inbox so i’m excited to write literally whatever strikes my fancy at the moment 😈

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

a kiss from the moon | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: All these years, all these summers, Jeon Jungkook has loved you. His problem? You have no idea. Mostly because he has always said it far too platonically and thrown up in your lap after saying it. Drunk. Fuck. Oh, yeah, and you're also Park Jimin's best friend since preschool. Shit.

warnings: language; alcohol consumption; pining; JK gets distracted by (your) tits during his quest, typical; non-idol!BTS - purple-haired!Jungkook x sleepy af, noona!reader, ft Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung radiating big soulmate energy; childhood friends-to-lovers

yes, it's JK from the 'Butter' beach photos

--

“I love you!”

You lifted your head out of the mountain of pillows, groggy and hazy, squinting at the moonlight filtering through the floating curtains. The night breeze was warm, drifting in softly with the low hum of cicadas. But what was that other sound? That other sound was familiar, wasn’t it?

You heard your name being shouted, followed by, “Wake up!”

You made a face and stumbled out of the bed, sticking your head out of your bedroom window, your own hair flying back and smacking you in the face.

“Yah! Jeon Jungkook, are you trying to wake up the whole damn neighborhood?!”

“Get down here!”

You put on your best disgruntled expression and peered down at the form on your front lawn, shoving your own hair aside.

“What are you going on about?” you muttered, seeing Jeon Jungkook looking up at you, puffing his cheeks, long wet purple hair fading to gray because of the chlorine from swimming all night at that party Park Jimin had invited you to earlier today, to which you had responded, no thanks, I’m going to sleep all day, I worked three double shifts in a row and I have zero desire to be flung into your family’s swimming pool at this time, but I will acknowledge that your offer is very generous, and then promptly passing out for a good – you glanced at your phone with the pink bunny case Jungkook had given you two summers ago – ten hours and it was still not enough for you to comprehend why your best friend’s best friend was standing on your front lawn yelling at your parents’ house that you were watching for a month while they were in Italy getting drunk on far too expensive wine and eating cheese they probably couldn’t pronounce.

Jungkook was shirtless, clad only in orange swim shorts and sandals like a fucking hooligan. He was clutching a plastic red Solo cup and he threw it at the house, yelling your name again.

“Oh my fucking God, don’t litter, you idiot!” you bellowed back, throwing yourself away from the windowsill and crawling on the floor to your bedroom door like the evolution of mankind, making it from all fours to two legs by the time you got to the stairs – good thing too, you might have broken your neck if you were still disoriented – and you dragged yourself downstairs, yanking your white slip dress straight. Not your choice of pajamas. Your mom’s, who told you to be more ladylike, whatever the fuck that meant, and who also informed you in the same breath that it was your only choice of pajamas since they donated all your clothes from high school.

Awesome.

You go to university and your parents yeet all evidence that they had a child and go vacationing.

Good for them.

You wrenched your front door open and shoved your feet into your dad’s giant brown sandals and clapped your way over to the pink-faced, mildly drunk, shirtless man in swimming trunks on your front lawn.

“It’s two in the morning. Why are you standing here drunk and professing your love like some kind of deranged Romeo?” you sighed, rubbing your eyes. “Why aren’t you at Jimin’s?” You spied the red Solo cup and picked it up, whipping your head back to Jeon Jungkook.

He was staring at you with his mouth open.

Charming.

He didn’t say anything for a good ten seconds.

“Alright, fine, let me call my loser of a best friend and tell him to pick up his loser of a best friend, so I can go back to sleep,” you muttered, about to turn around.

Jungkook seemed to sputter back to life. “Wait, um, noona–”

“He speaks! He’s not dead.”

“A… Ah… Um…”

You squinted at him and reached up to knock the side of his head. “Hello? Anyone in there?”

Jungkook blurted out, “I love you.”

His breath smelled a lot like alcohol.

“Yeah, I got that. You also said that when I got you through your Chemistry and World History exams. Both times. You also say that to like, what, six of your guy friends? Don’t get me started on the amount of times you’ve said it and thrown up in my lap right after. Don’t do that this time,” you added sternly, prodding at his chest. “I’ve got one set of pajamas because my mom forgets that human beings change clothes, so throw up on the grass.”

“Uh… that’s pajamas…?”

“Lady pajamas,” you grumbled sarcastically, lifting the lid and chucking the crumpled Solo cup into your parents’ trash can. “Since I’m not lady enough apparently according to my mom, even though I’m ninety-nine percent sure giant band t-shirts are completely unisex but, whatever, it’s just a dress, not a big deal.”

“Um.”

You looked at Jungkook, who looked back at you, who put your hands up and gestured him to say something, who in response rose his hands and flapped them in confusion, giving you absolutely zero helpful communication. The movement reminded you he had gotten his right arm and hand tattooed in the last couple years, the black ink standing out against tan skin. You hadn’t seen him too many times during your university years, too busy completing research papers and staying late nights in laboratories, only to now end up working on hospital software and sitting on your ass all day. Life, eh? These past three days were spent on working through bugs for the next software update and you had maybe lost all social skills as you attempted to unravel lines of code that you stared at for forty-eight out of the past seventy-two hours.

Fun!

“Do you need a cookie? A shower? The Bible?” you offered, waving your hands. “Maybe tell me why you’re here, yes?”

He was staring and you realized you were slightly bent over in your gesture, your breasts firmly pressed into the cups of the slip dress. You straightened and Jungkook’s wide dark brown eyes went back to your face.

“I… I didn’t realize you had come back, noona.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about? I told Jimin last week. He said he was hanging out with you and Taehyung. I figured he’d just tell you guys then.”

Jungkook shook his head quickly, gray-purple hair flying about. He pointed to the left, where Jimin’s house was several blocks over. “He only mentioned it just now, when he was throwing up in the bathroom from doing eight shots in a row because Taehyungie dared him.”

“…. Maybe he needs the Bible…” you muttered, shaking your head.

Then the realization hit you.

“Did you walk here from Jimin’s and straight up abandon the party?”

Jungkook tilted his head and thought about it. “Yeah.”

You looked around to find the camera and see if you were being pranked, but there was no camera because this life wasn’t purely for entertainment, right? Nah, this wasn’t The Matrix.

Mhm.

“Hah, well, what’s wrong? Are you upset I didn’t go to the party or something? I had three double-shifts this week, I wasn’t going to be any fun passed out before actually drinking–”

“Yoongi-hyung was passed out before drinking.”

“In some ways, I swear that guy and I are the same person,” you laughed, shaking your head. “Anyway, I’m sorry I didn’t go and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I really banked on Jimin not being an airhead, but once again he is, so maybe I should reconsider him as my best friend…”

“Noona, I…”

You looked up from your mental consideration of Park Jimin’s pros and cons, the first pro being he punched that ex of yours that cheated on you with some Tinder hookup and that was already enough to stop contemplating, so you blinked at Jungkook curiously, looking into wide brown eyes, long strands of ash-purple floating around his handsome face from the night breeze, brushing against his parted lips, highlighting the mole underneath them, placed perfectly in the center like a kiss from the moon itself.

“Can I take a shower and sleep it off here?”

You tilted your head. “Yeah, sure. You can borrow my dad’s clothes. You should call Jimin though. You don’t want him to panic that he lost you.”

“Y… Yeah, okay…”

-

Jeon Jungkook really thought he could say it this time.

Collected all his courage and ran, ran as fast as he could, couldn’t believe Jimin had neglected to say she was coming home over the summer for more than a day, days without her reminding Jungkook that he was a coward for not saying it when he could have, having lost his most important person in the world because he was too afraid of telling Park Jimin that he was in love with his best friend.

He remembered that smile wearing nothing but a large t-shirt, sitting on Jimin’s bedroom floor, crushing all of them at UNO and cackling as Jimin blew up for ending up in last place for the third time in a row, yelling that the game was rigged, and Jungkook remembered thinking, I should tell her tonight.

And he didn’t.

He remembered her saying to Taehyung that she just wasn’t into girly things. They were having this argument over pizza and Taehyung was waving his around saying she should at least try a dress on every once in a while, never know, might actually like it, and her rolling her eyes as she shot back that she didn’t have to do anything just because it was stereotypical for her gender. Taehyung told her to stop using big words and waved his hands, accidentally flinging his pizza slice into her lap, and Jungkook remembered thinking, I should tell her after we clean up.

And he didn’t.

He remembered seeing her prepare to leave for university once again, holding a small package from the internet and handing it to her, a small but practical belated birthday gift, both of them surprised when she opened it, not the matte black phone case he had ordered, but somehow mixed up with a pink bunny phone case that had no business being owned by someone who didn’t like girly things.

“Oh, shit, I’m so sorry, I didn’t order this–”

And she laughed, shaking her head. “That’s okay, I gotta go, thanks anyway, Jungkook!”

The years went by and every year Jungkook told himself, this is the one, and every year he just couldn’t say it.

He thought he could say it now, drunk and furious at Jimin for not preparing him for this moment, but on his way here Jungkook figured that perhaps this was preferred, that maybe it was better that he couldn’t sit around nervously overthinking what to say.

But, of course, the problem was…

He had already said it in a platonic way.

Shit.

He really fucked himself throughout the years.

Jungkook sighed, now wearing borrowed clothes, holding the note of her handwriting as he rubbed his hair with the towel.

I washed your shorts and they’re hang-drying now. You can sleep in the guest room. I left a glass of water and some hangover meds. If you need anything, I’ll be asleep but you can attempt to wake the dead if you want.

He walked down the hall, towel around his shoulders. Her bedroom door was open. He stood outside the entrance, sighing, seeing her sleeping form and her bedside table, her phone sitting on the charger.

His breath caught in his throat as he recognized that pink bunny phone case.

-

“Where’s Jungkook?”

“Probably at her parents’ place, confessing his love,” Kim Taehyung snickered, picking up the beer bottles left behind next to the pool.

“Hah, of course he would leave without cleaning up,” Park Jimin grumbled, pushing the recycling bin along as Taehyung tossed each bottle inside.

“You think he’s gonna tell her?”

“He didn’t even tell me,” Jimin muttered, shoving used napkins into the bag hanging off the side of the recycling bin that he was going to toss into the trash later. “I had to find out from you. I think he’s hopeless. Why does he like her anyway? She’s fun to be around, yeah, she’s good at school, yeah, knows a lot of random facts, yeah, if you get into philosophy with her like Namjoon-hyung does, you begin to question humanity and reality, yeah, but other than that…”

“You hitting on your best friend, dude?”

“I mean, she’s kinda hot, she wouldn’t say no to me.”

Taehyung snorted.

Jimin smacked him in the ass with the recycling bin.

“Anyway, he’s probably just standing in her bedroom creepily watching her sleeping.”

-

Jungkook stared down at her sleeping form.

He looked up, looking out the window into the late, late night. He was tired, and yet he couldn’t sleep, too busy wondering.

I don’t deserve her if I’m not brave enough to say it.

“Jungkook?”

-

You squinted at the large form in your bedroom.

“Why are you just staring moodily out the window?” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes. “Is something wrong? Are you hungry? I can make you a snack…”

“Noona, do you know what the worst feeling in the world is?” he asked softly, still looking out into the warm night.

You grunted and scrunched up your face. “Stepping on a Lego?”

You heard Jungkook laugh and you smiled a little despite your groggy state, hearing a little bit of his old self, the younger Jungkook hanging out with you, Jimin, and, later, Taehyung, the four of you getting up to no good. Somehow, in the past few years, he had gotten quieter and quieter, at least around you, but then again you only came home to visit for a day or two before going back to university.

“Have you ever been in love, noona?”

“Yeah, with the red bean popsicles they used to sell at the ice cream trucks, but then they stopped, those assholes, I’ve never been so heartbroken in my life,” you grumbled, remembering the day where the ice cream man told you they were sold out and your young teenage heart shattering.

“I love you, you know.”

Was this a fever dream? Why did he keep repeating himself? You looked over to his back, still looking outside onto the street, the street where you all used to run and laugh every summer, pretending you were surviving in the wild and not in the middle of a suburban neighborhood, sitting around sipping lemonade and complaining about the heat even though you all could have gone inside, lighting sparklers at night and seeing whose would last the longest even though such a thing was only based on chance anyway.

“Is that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?” he added quietly.

“The worst thing I’ve ever heard was accidentally hearing Jimin jacking off. Twice.”

Jungkook finally turned around, giving you a disgusted look. “What?”

You placed a hand on your face and sighed heavily, trying not to remember. “For some reason he thinks the bathroom isn’t echoey or something, like, at least do it in the shower, so the water masks the sound…” You chuckled, shaking your head. “Anyway, I would much rather hear you say you have love for me than listening to Jimin getting off.”

“I don’t have love for you.”

You raised your hand from your face and shifted your gaze to him, half-smile lingering on your lips from remembering Jimin’s carelessness. You made eye contact the second the words left his mouth, those brown eyes shrouded in shadows, but still so clear, a little helpless, a little sad.

“I’m in love with you,” Jungkook whispered softly.

Your eyes widened.

A soft breeze swept through the window, lifting the purple-gray strands from Jungkook’s face, revealing his lost, desolate expression.

The cicadas hummed.

A car alarm honked loudly, screeching through the night.

Both you and Jungkook jerked to face the window. You bolted out of bed and you both threw your hands onto the edge of the window, yanking it shut, wincing at the loud noise.

“Ah, jeez… what the hell…?” you groaned, slumping to the ground.

“What’s with people…?” Jungkook muttered, falling to the floor beside you, yanking the towel off his shoulders.

-

“Fuck, I pressed the wrong button!”

“Taehyung, what the hell, turn it off!”

“I was just trying to put the tangerines your parents gave me in my car!”

“I don’t care what you were doing, turn it off!”

-

“Anyway, sorry, you were saying something important and you got interrupted by some dumbass,” you sighed, nudging Jungkook with your shoulder.

“Uh… well, that was it…”

You blinked at him, tilting your head. “What, that you’re in love with me?”

“Y… Yeah?”

You blinked some more.

“Not the, want to go to the arcade and see who can get the highest score in PAC-MAN or go watch shitty action movies and rate the unrealistic plot lines or dare each other to eat whatever expired delicacy is in Taehyung’s fridge, kind of love?”

Jungkook made a repulsed face. “I regret eating that tofu. Don’t think I can ever look at uncooked tofu without gagging a little now…”

You leaned over and caught his eye.

“Do you mean the… want to date and get married and make babies, kind of love?”

His lips parted and the moonlight lit the small mole placed perfectly underneath his lower lip.

A delicate kiss from the moon itself.

Then you realized he was staring at your tits.

You yanked the neckline up a little and Jungkook started, looking back up at you with wide eyes.

“Sorry, I’m just not used to you in a dress, sorry, I’m being really rude–”

“It assures me that you’re at least interested in the making babies part,” you chuckled.

His ears turned red and he reached up to cover them, trying not to look down. “S… Sorry…”

“So…?”

He chewed on his lip, messing with his earrings with his fingertips. “Um… yeah, that kind of love. The latter kind.”

You lowered your hand. “You’re not messing with me, right? I swear, if this is one of Taehyung’s elaborate ideas to mess with me, I’m going to ki–”

Jungkook shook his head quickly, purple hair flying about. “I’m not joking around. I wanted to tell you for a long, long time, but…” His eyes darted about, panicking a little, before looking back to you helplessly. “You’re Jimin’s best friend, besides Taehyung, and what if… what if you thought I was gross or something and then I don’t think I could hang out with you guys anymore, but then you went to that prestigious university far away and I thought, I’m so stupid, I should have said something, anything, but every time I could even think about it, I didn’t know what to say, nothing seemed right…”

He let out a big sigh and tapped his head against the windowsill, closing his eyes.

“Also, I said it before and threw up in your lap right after, so that kinda fucked me up.”

“Can’t say I was really feeling the romance, yeah.”

He groaned and covered his face with his hands.

“I’d date you though. For real.”

Jungkook removed his hands and blinked at you. “What?”

You chuckled. “Why are you acting so surprised? I’m not going to date Jimin, blergh, I’ve known that guy since I was in preschool. I’m not dating Taehyung, I’m pretty sure he’s on a different brainwave than other human beings.”

You smiled at him and turned around to pick up your phone, holding it up.

“I don’t like girly things or cute things very much, but I kept your gift because it was from you and, funnily enough, I think it made me realize that I was rejecting femininity because society puts such a negative connotation on things young women like and because my friends growing up were primarily male, thus I wanted to seem cool or relatable so I rejected stereotypically feminine concepts…”

“… What?”

Now it was a confused what.

“Uh, never mind,” you laughed awkwardly, putting your phone back on your nightstand. “Anyway, Jungkook, you made me realize things about myself, and I love being around you, but I thought a handsome guy like you would want to date a pretty girl, and I’m not really that.”

Jungkook furrowed his brows. “What are you talking about? You’re the prettiest girl in the world. No one could ever be prettier than you.”

You felt your neck heat. “Yo, don’t inflate my ego when it’s not the truth,” you chuckled sheepishly, waving a hand. “You’ve been drinking anyway. Alcohol makes everyone prettier.”

“It’s the truth.”

Was he drunk or were you drunk? Why was Jeon Jungkook getting closer?

“Would you really date me?”

You stared into those chocolate eyes and smiled.

“Yes, I would.”

And you leaned forward and kissed him.

His eyes widened, staring at you and you closed your eyes, pressing your lips to his, inhaling his scent, memories of hot summers and mirthful laughter filling your head, standing beside Jungkook and kicking Jimin and Taehyung’s ass at table tennis even though Jungkook was doing most of the work, finishing a movie together after Jimin and Taehyung had passed out on the couch on top of each other and talking excitedly about it until you both fall asleep, getting lamb skewers after Jimin and Taehyung went off to eat ramen in a huff, unable to agree on the same meal as a foursome, but it was fine, no, better than fine, perfect even.

Because you were with Jungkook.

You broke the kiss and opened your eyes, smiling at him.

He blinked slowly, looking down at you.

“Noona…”

His hand raised, fingers spreading out longingly. You quickly reached up and pushed it back down.

“Jungkook, I swear, I do want to touch you in a less than holy way, but maybe not when you’re wearing my dad’s clothes, including his underwear, because that’s really fucking weird.”

Jungkook looked down at the brown t-shirt and beige shorts. “Oh. Yeah. Right.”

“You know, come to think of it, I feel like Taehyung has slowly stolen Jimin from me over the years, so maybe this was fated…” you mumbled, remembering at the moments you had shared with Jungkook were because your other two friends had abandoned you.

“I feel you, sometimes I feel like a third wheel…”

-

“I’m so sleepy.”

“I’ll tuck you in first, but I’m going to get us some water so we don’t die tomorrow morning.”

“Ugh, Jimin, bring another pillow please.”

“Hah, fine, but you’re buying breakfast tomorrow…”

--

masterpost

[dyaz-stories]

Secret Santa 2019 — In A Hopeless Place (We Found Love)

Aaaand I’m finally here to publish my @inusecretsanta​ story! @witchygirl99​, I am your Secret Santa! I hope I didn’t make you wait for too long, and I hope you will enjoy it!

Also available on ff.net and Ao3.

The first sticky note the Office Lady leaves him is green. Inuyasha doesn’t pay much attention to it. He rips it off, reads the “Hey, would really appreciate it if you could make sure not to leave crumbs on the desk :) Have a nice day, K.”, written in calligraphy that he can’t help but identify as cute, scoffs, crumples it, and throws it in the bin.

The Office Lady is the woman who uses the same office as him half of the week. He gets Monday, Friday, and Wednesday morning; she has Tuesday, Thursday and Wednesday afternoon. Yes, it’s fucking stupid. He’s aware. Not to mention, he got the short end of the stick. She gets the longer week-end and he has to get up on Wednesdays. He blames it on Sesshomaru. Yeah, the guy only owns the company and probably didn’t meddle in his personal schedule, but he’s more than happy to blame absolutely everything he possibly can on Sesshomaru.

The K. signature kinda bothers him, though. So far, he hasn’t given much thought to the other person who occupies the office. He’s noticed the cactus she brought, and by her smell he can tell that she’s a human woman who, frankly, has no business smelling that fucking good, but he doesn’t even know her name.

K, huh? Certainly couldn’t be Kikyo. Last he heard — by a friend of a friend of a friend, ‘cause he most definitely ain’t checking on her — she had moved and was getting married. To a doctor. A human one, at that, so her family most likely hadn’t complained this time. Good for her. Probably. They were water under the bridge at this point. Maybe they wouldn’t have fucked each other up so bad, if they had been just a couple years older. If they’d been more experienced, more willing to compromise, more…

Why the fuck is he thinking about Kikyo? There’s a fucking reason why he keeps the memories buried as deep as possible.

Ah. Right. He glares furiously at the bin, at the bottom of which the notes lays. Crumbs, she said. Yeah, yeah, he’ll try. He was late on Monday, he ate in the office, and he definitely doesn’t remember cleaning up afterwards. Politeness would probably require him to write a note back, apologizing and promising it wouldn’t happen again.

He doesn’t.

Inuyasha hears from her again a couple of weeks later. If she was offended by his absence of response, she doesn’t show it. The note is still green. Again, he doesn’t pay attention to it. This time, he rolls his eyes and takes it off while he goes to open the window. He focuses better when the room doesn’t smell like her. He’s not sure why he’s so affected by it, quite frankly. It’s definitely very new. People who stink, sure, but people who are just so damn tantalizing? New. Some might even say a first.

Anyway, what does she want this time?

“It really isn’t a problem if you want to borrow a pen or something, but please make sure to leave everything the way you found it :) Have a nice day, K. PS: thanks for taking care of the crumbs, hope I didn’t come off too annoying last time!”

Ugh. He just has to roll his eyes at it, because how the fuck can she be so ridiculously sugary? God. If there’s one thing he hates, it’s people who act fake. He would know, he’s faced his fair share of them, being a half-demon, and he considers it a fact that they’re worse than people who openly hate you.

There’s no way she means that. There’s no way she’s that accepting and nice and not frustrated at him, even though this time, he didn’t even do anything wrong. Must be Miroku, the guy has a habit of dropping in to borrow stuff from him. He’s told him off multiple times, but it doesn’t seem to change a thing. He probably got the wrong side of the desk this time.

Also, who even notices that kind of stuff? He wouldn’t know if Miroku took half of his fucking supplies. Out of curiosity, he opens one of her drawer, and fucking hell. Pencils are organized by colors and sizes. Everything has its place. He lets out a disgusted noise. He’s not going to bother and try to rectify the misunderstanding, ‘cause that sounds like a stupid waste of time. If it had only been up to him, they would have never interacted in the first place.

He doesn’t need any more people in his life. The few ones in it are more than enough for him to handle, thank you very much. He doesn’t see why he’d need to be friendly with each other, either. They’ve never met, and he can’t think of any reason why it would change in the future. So, without thinking much more about it, he puts the note right where it belongs.

In the trash.

This time, it doesn’t take as long for him to hear about her again. The note is yellow, and Inuyasha vaguely pauses at the new color. How many does she have? Does she change them depending on her mood, or on the importance of the message? What kind of psychopath does that?

“You left the window open and it was really cold by the time I got there. Please don’t let that happen again. Have a nice day, K.”

Aw, no smiley face? The mask is starting to slip, then.

He does have some responsibility in this one, though. He has probably opened the window Wednesday morning as he always did, and then left it open. He can handle the cold pretty well, being a half-demon and all, but it is October already, and the Office Lady is human. Still, it had only been a few hours. No way it was that bad. Yet another thing he would make sure wouldn’t happen again, only this time, he may be feeling the tiniest twinge of guilt.

He hesitates longer before throwing out the piece of paper, and actually considers replying “Sorry”. Maybe it would deescalate things, get him back on her good side, where she writes on green paper.

He looks out the window, at the grey, cold sky. It’s generally cloudy, but Wednesday it was clear and blue. He remembers enjoying it.

Ah, fuck it. It’s her fault in the first place if he opens the damn window, even if she doesn’t know it and there’s no way she can do anything about it because he’s not communicating with her. He’s not going to write back on a colored sticky note. Plus, it’s Friday, so even if he did, he would probably rip it off when he would come back Monday.

His hand hovers above the bin, then with an annoyed growl he puts the note in one of his drawers. He doesn’t know why. He didn’t even keep the nice ones. He tells himself it’s because that way, he’ll keep track of the things she asks him and it’ll be easier. He tells himself it has nothing to do with the fact that he’s starting to enjoy this contact with this unknown woman who smells strangely nice.

Nothing at all.

Then, the Office Lady leaves a furious pink note on the desk, and Inuyasha realizes that yes, they are color-coded, and apparently she bases said color on the severity of the offense. She’s fucking weird. Who does she think he is, a five-year old? (Miroku does tell him he acts like one, but he refuses to take it into consideration right now)

“Listen. The crumbs, the pen, that’s okay. The window, it’s annoying because I have to keep my jacket on and it makes squeaky sounds whenever I move, but I can survive it. You not answering me, I think it’s rude and you probably have some deeply seeded issues about communication, but again, I’ll manage. The fact that you emptied my stapler and didn’t put any staples back in? That’s unacceptable. I want new ones. K.”

What did he say? A psychopath. She’s a fucking psychopath. Still, he grimaces at the note. Him not replacing the staples is breaking the main rule of an old code between office workers. There’s only one thing that’s worse, and that’s not putting paper back in the printer once it’s empty.

Not that it justifies her tone. Who does she think she is, exactly? Think she’s perfect, huh? Well, he doesn’t have dirt on her right now, but there’s no way she didn’t annoy him since they started sharing the space. She, erm, she left the computer on that one time and he certainly didn’t write her a green note to complain about it. And she left her key on the locked drawers on her side of the office and did he scold her for it? Nah, he didn’t even touch the thing — that would have deserved some yellow note, at least.

Again, he could, and maybe he should, apologize. He could reply on her note. He definitely doesn’t. He’s not playing her weird game. At this point, frankly, he thinks it must be a kink of hers. There’s no other way around it.

He knows he kept the yellow note for whatever reason, but this one, certainly, should go straight into the trash. He crumples it in his hand. Then he hesitates. Maybe she’ll try to murder him one day and this will be evidence that she was insane from the very beginning.

He keeps the note.

When Inuyasha arrives on Monday, he has a little stack of staples refills, which he puts on her side of the desk. He could write her a note about it.

He doesn’t.

The Office Lady replies with a yellow note, and Inuyasha feels strangely satisfied when he sees the color. Not that he feels guilty about the whole thing, ahah, certainly not, or that he wants the Office Lady to at least think of him in friendly ways, but, well, since most people out there hate him for no valid reason, maybe he can do with one less person disliking him.

“Thanks. K.”

He’s not disappointed by the one-word reply, and even if he was, it would not be childish. Miroku would say something about how he can’t expect people to congratulate him for basic decency, and he would retort that this was not basic human decency, that if she wanted him not to empty the stapler, she shouldn’t have left it out, and that he had no obligation to buy her refills.

Thank God he doesn’t talk to Miroku about that shit. Miroku does most of the talking for them both.

He moves the notes into his locked drawer. He doesn’t want her to know he’s keeping them, or anyone, at this point. Weirdly enough, this is the most he’s interacted with someone he didn’t already in quite some time.

“Thanks”, she said.

Well. It’s some sort of improvement, isn’t it?

November starts without any new notes having been sent, and Inuyasha finds himself getting bored at work a lot. He tries to tell himself he’s not expecting anything, but well, he’s lying to himself and he knows it, and he also can’t stop himself from thinking about how fucking stupid it is.

The Office Lady could be anyone. She probably doesn’t think about him half as often as he thinks about her, but hey, she doesn’t have to handle his smell. They’re not fucking lovers, they’re certainly not friends, and they’re not even acquaintances. They’ve never met, never seen each other. She doesn’t owe him anything, and their only interactions were one-sided, from her point of view at least.

He hates himself.

But on Friday morning, he walks in the office, and is almost knocked out by the overpowering smell of flower. His vision blurs, and he can only press a hand against his nose to try to lessen the smell. It’s not exactly working. A reasonable person would probably call for help, but ‘reasonable’ was never a word one could apply to Inuyasha. He manages to stagger to the window and to open it. There, he takes long, calming breath of air, before turning furious eyes to the offender.

Lavender. With the smell so strong that he can barely breathe, even now. He takes off his jacket and uses it to protect his mouth while he grabs the pot and puts it on the window ledge. Thankfully, the wind blows the smell away, and he sighs in relief.

Inuyasha walks to the desk in what can only be qualified as a blind rage. He has to move slowly so he won’t rip off the handle for the top drawer, and once he’s there, he has to try several time before he stops tearing to shreds the notes with his claws. Finally, he manages to get a pink one.

Yeah, he’s aware, he said he wouldn’t write back to her, and certainly not use her color-code, but fucking hell, she’s done it now.

“Don’t. Bring. Flowers. Again.”

His writing somehow manages to be agressive, but he cannot care less. As far as he is concerned, this means war.

Pink.

“You killed my lavender! If you don’t like flowers, couldn’t you just wait a day? K.”

Pink. (He can’t believe he is using her code. Maybe he should change it just to mess with her. They’re her notes, after all.)

“No.”

Pink. So this is a war.

“Wow, amazing, so glad you’re communicating with me.”

Pink. What a fucking bitch.

“Printer is empty.”

Pink.

“Oops, didn’t notice. You should fill it.”

Pink.

“You emptied it, you fill it.”

Pink.

“Why’d you kill my lavender?”

Pink.

“Who cares? Fill the printer.”

Pink.

“No.”

Pink.

“Are you a fucking child?”

Pink.

“How can you call me a child?”

Pink.

“The smell was too strong. Fill the fucking printer.”

Pink.

“The smell was too strong?? What are you, a dog?”

Pink.

“Half dog-demon, yeah. Took you long enough for the printer.”

Yellow. Shit. He wants to stay mad at her.

“Oh. I’m so sorry, I had no idea. I should have thought about it. I deeply apologize.”

Yellow. Inuyasha really, really wants to reply with pink, but he holds back somehow.

“You couldn’t know. Forget it.”

Green.

“No, seriously. I’m sorry. Can I get you something? Are chocolates off the table because of the dog thing?”

He wishes he could say it doesn’t make him laugh.

Green.

“Ramen.”

Next time, there’s a green note on a small pack of ramen, saying “Enjoy! :)” Inuyasha answers with a green note that says “Thanks”.

It’s probably the nicest exchange they’ve had since this began.

The Office Lady puts out a family picture. It features an old man, a middle-aged woman and a young boy who’s probably in high-school. Inuyasha doesn’t really want to comment on it, but he wants to know if she’s the woman.

He picks a green note, and for once, he starts the conversation. “Who are they?”

Green note.

“Mom, grandpa and little brother! You can put your pictures up if you want to, I don’t mind :)”

He would be lying if he said he didn’t miss the smileys.

Green.

“No pictures. We didn’t get enough time.”

Green.

“Shoot, sorry again :( Me and my big mouth…”

Green.

“’s okay. Been a long time.”

Inuyasha laughs when she gets him another pack of ramen as a way of saying sorry, and then he realizes that she got him his own set of notes. There’s green, yellow and pink, obviously, but there’s also blue, and he’s never seen her use blue.

He gets a green one. “What’s blue for?”

Green.

“Work. Boring >:(”

She’s fucking adorable.

Mid-November, the Office Lady starts decorating the office for Christmas, and once more, Inuyasha thinks about how much of a psychopath she is. Can’t she wait for December like everyone else?

After a few days, though, the tinsels grow on him, and he leaves a note, almost despite himself. Almost.

“The decorations are cute.”

Green.

“Aw, thanks! I’m so happy you like them :) I was afraid you’d be a bit of a Grinch.”

He’s a bit offended by how right she is.

Green.

“How about we meet for lunch on Wednesday?”

That’s stupid. He knows it’s stupid. And she will probably find it weird. But he writes quickly and then practically runs out of the office so he won’t change his mind.

On Wednesday morning, Inuyasha finds out she replied “I’d love to!! :)))”, and it has him grinning for the entirety of his work hours. Miroku drops in and acts shocked at seeing him smiling. Inuyasha throws something at him — his stapler. Miroku’s lucky, because the Office Lady’s cactus was right next to it, and it was really tempting to throw that, but he doesn’t want to start another pink-note war.

At noon, he waits in the office.

And waits.

And waits.

After an hour, he wonders what the fuck he’s still doing there. She ain’t coming. He’s not even sure why he stayed there for so long. It’s not like it’s the first time someone stands him up, and he barely even knows the girl.

He throws his jacket on, grabs his suitcase and walks out. Everything looks and feels cold, deserted. It’s noon, so there’s almost no one in. It doesn’t improve his mood, but it does make him feel a little better. At least he doesn’t have to watch them try to stay away from him in the elevator today. No such thing as a small victory.

As he walks out, he notices a woman running towards him. Wind is blowing in her black hair, and she’s wearing a green dress which only reminds him of the notes. He considers dropping the door and letting it hit her in the face, because he’s in a bad mood, but he’s also feeling sentimental today.

She shoots him a bright smile that makes her blue eyes shine when she realizes he’s holding the door for her.

“Thank you!” she breathes out as she runs in, moving past him pretty fast, for a human.

He only recognizes the smell after she’s gone.

She was late. He considers running after her, catching up with her, telling her. He doesn’t move. Sure, she’s early for her work hours, but she’s still late, so it must mean she didn’t want to see it that much, right?

The next morning, there’s a green note that says “I couldn’t make it I’m so sorry :(”

He doesn’t reply.

He is very surprised when he runs into her again, because it’s not one of her days. She’s running through the building, trying to keep up with someone who Inuyasha recognizes as Miroku’s Office Lady — Sango. Yeah, Miroku knows who his Office Lady is, because, like the weirdo he is, he communicated with her. Then asked her out on a date. Then she said no. Then he asked again. Repeat that for a dozen times, and then she showed up at his office and threatened to kill him.

Needless to say, Miroku’s in love.

Anyway, Inuyasha’s Office Lady is running after Sango, but they’re also both carrying big boxes of stuff that might very well belong to Miroku. If he was a good friend, he’d stop them.

He doesn’t even think about it.

However, when his Office Lady trips, he barely thinks before stepping in and grabbing her arm, steadying her.

“Oof, damn, thank you so— Oh, it’s you again.”

She smiles brightly, and his heart drops to his stomach.

“You held the door for me!”

“…’cause you were running.”

Not to be nice. He’s not nice. Why did he just catch her? He has no fucking idea.

“Yeah, I was… late,” she grimaces. “I’m Kagome, by the way.”

Kagome. So that’s what the K is for.

“Inuyasha.”

Her eyes widen, and then her gaze moves up to his ears, like she just suddenly noticed them, along with the white hair and golden eyes. He rises an eyebrow. Does she know his name? But how? She opens her mouth, but then Sango reappears.

“Kagome, hurry! We don’t have that long before he comes back!”

He should stop them right? He probably should stop them.

Miroku deserves it though, so he doesn’t move.

“I really need to help my friend,” she breathes out, “but you… We—We’ll talk again!”

Then she runs away, and he vaguely wonders if the whole thing actually happened as he stays there, standing with his hands in his pocket, looking at the corner at which she disappeared.

She smells even better from up close.

The only thing on the next note, green, is her phone number.

What the fuck is he supposed to do with that?

He waits for a little while. It’s definitely not the right move, and Miroku would kill him if he knew, but thankfully Inuyasha hasn’t updated him since the beginning of the note-war. Also, Miroku’s entire office was moved on the roof and he has been in a bit of a bad mood recently.

Tough.

One day, though, Inuyasha realizes that there are two golden plaques on the door. With his name — Inuyasha Taisho —, but more importantly, with her name.

Kagome Higurashi.

How did he never notice that?

He texts her that evening. Keeps it short and simple. Place and time.

She replies “It’s a date! :)”, and he kinda misses her writing, but it’s all set now. No backing away, and if she doesn’t show up this time, well, at least she’ll be able to let him know? He’s not sure about himself this time. He’s not quite the type to give people second chances.

Only, it might actually be worth it this time.

Of fucking course, she has to be late. It only makes sense, that she would torture him a little more. Inuyasha seriously considers running away the second the time is passed. But he waits.

Not for an hour, this time. Just a reasonable fifteen minutes, before she runs past the corner. She’s in good shape, he thinks when she gets by his side and is only barely panting, but he supposes if she’s often late, it would make sense.

“Hey, I’m so sorry, I had—”

“You’re always late, aren’t ya?”

She blushes, not in an embarrassed way but in an angry one.

Still just as adorable.

“No, no, not always, just… Just often.” She pushes some hair out of her mouth. “I’m Kagome Higurashi, by the way.”

“I know. ’s written on the office door. I had totally noticed.”

She laughs at that.

“I felt so stupid. You’re literally called Inuyasha. I can’t believe I made that dog joke, I’m so sorry by the way I—”

“That was a month ago. I’m over it.”

She frowns.

“You’re not really good at conversation, are you? Funny, I certainly couldn’t have told that from your notes.”

Is she making fun of him?

“So, wanna… Walk around? Grab coffee?”

Truth is, he didn’t plan the date, because part of him was worried she would bail on him, and he didn’t want to look stupid having to cancel a reservation at a restaurant.

“Actually, I need to go grab something at the office, if you don’t mind?”

“On a week-end?”

A psychopath. He knew it from the beginning. He can’t believe he didn’t pay attention to the signs.

“Oh come on. I went on week-ends when Sango wanted to get revenge on her Office Guy. It’s for myself this time. And kinda for you.”

Sango calls Miroku Office Guy. That’s hilarious. Did she miss the plaque on the door as well?

“’kay. I’ll follow you.”

Like he can say no to her. And they’re not even dating. Yet.

“Okay, just— wait a second, okay?”

Inuyasha shrugs. He hesitates a little before following her inside. He can’t say he’s really fond of the place, but mostly, he’s getting ideas now. Ideas that feature her sitting on the desk with her legs spread and him—

“Got it!”

Thank God. He needs to cool the fuck down.

“It’s for you.”

She hands him a carefully wrapped present, and he can only stare at it.

“It’s not Christmas.”

December has barely started. Seriously, what’s wrong with her?

“I’m late most of the time, but I like planning. Aren’t you going to open it?”

He wants to, but he also doesn’t want her to realize he wants to. So he scoffs and rolls his eyes. She leans against the desk, watching him with amusement dancing in her eyes and, yup, not looking at her, it’s giving him way too many ideas.

He rips the paper open, and ignores her sudden fascination for his claws. She seems almost disappointed at how quick he is at opening it.

It hits him like a punch in the chest.

It’s a picture of his parents. He hasn’t seen many of them, and he definitely doesn’t own any.

“I asked your brother,” Kagome says softly. “He isn’t an easy man to get a hold of, but Sango helped. She… has her ways.”

So Miroku’s Office Lady is a force to be reckoned with. He’ll remember that.

He clears his throat awkwardly, and carefully puts the picture back in the envelope. Doesn’t want to rip it by accident, and he is trembling a little.

“I don’t have a present for you,” he mumbles.

“I mean, you can think of something else you could give me, right?”

He squints at her. Surely, she can’t mean… Is she pulling fucking mistletoe out of her drawers? How many decorations for holidays is she hiding in there? How in advance is she planning? Again, what’s wrong with her? Now she’s holding the mistletoe over her head.

“Not that you have to,” she frowns when he doesn’t move. “I mean, I don’t want you to feel pressured into anything, I thought we had a good vibe and—”

It takes one wide step and his mouth is on her, his body pressing itself against hers between her legs. He kisses her hungrily. He’s been imagining the way she tasted since he first smelled her.

He’s not disappointed.

When she wraps her arms around him and brings him closer, he decides that she’s not disappointed either.

Good. Cause he has no intention of letting go of her any time soon.

Tagging list: @shinidamachu​ @sailorbabydoll92​ @sweetchcolate @clearwillow​ @zelink-inukag​ @cstorm86​ @digital-art-monster​ @danycontreras90​ @redflamesofpassion​ @lost-amidst-the-stars​ @eternalnight8806-3​ @desiree239​ @keichanz​ @ashleys-canvas​ @mustardyellowsunshine​ @meggz0rz​ @contacting-u​ @ramen---boi​

[stonerbughead]

maria watches friday night lights (#4)

season 2, pt 2!! (2x08-2x15)

ugh Matt is really having his Being A Stupid Teenage Boy season huh?

-lol love a good naked dude being chased scene — in this case, Smash on his recruiting trip being chased around by a potential future teammate. Classic.

(it’s kinda cute that Matt came to pick him up tho)

- the latest in season 2 being off the fucking rails: really? Riggins’ new digs include a meth lab on wheels??

-Landry confessing to murdering someone and then having his sheriff dad drag him out of the station to go home is the whitest shit EVER. Like, Landry is literally *trying* to be punished and they just won’t punish his white, cop-kid ass. ‘Murica. (I mean don’t get me wrong: it WAS self defense against someone literally stalking and trying to rape Tyra, but the point still stands that if Landry was a black kid he’d have been tried as an adult and convicted no doubt)

-YESSSSS a MySpace shoutout! we love to see it

“I hate you” - Santiago (and also me) @ Buddy Garrity

-omg Coach Taylor noticing that things aren’t good at home for Riggins and taking him in, my heart!

-Wow in just one scene Riggins charmed baby Grace, warned Tami’s sister not to shame women for eating a lot (“it can lead to anorexia, especially in girls”) and then offered to go out to the store to get baby formula in the pouring rain. What a man.

-and yes, Shelly, you fully grown woman, it IS a bad idea to lust after a TEENAGE BOY

-wow Riggins protecting Julie from the SUPER DRAMATIC TORNADO that made me laugh. Do we get to have a Riggins-Julie friendship??? bc I’d be down. We need more friendships.

-Thank you, Tami, saying “EW” to her sister watching Riggins work out! Someone has sense to know a fully grown woman shouldn’t be lusting after a teenager! Julie can lust if she wants tho, that’s age appropriate.

-DYING at Landry being aghast that Tyra’s never heard of West Side Story.

-oh god, Lyla — it is totally fair to assume your mom would tell your dad she’s getting remarried, especially if she knew you’d be seeing him — so I’m sorry you’re the one who accidentally set off whatever nonsense Buddy is gonna pull now that he knows his ex wife is “marrying that treehugger.”

“Who’s that?” “Some douchebag named Chip. who names their kid Chip anyway?” Same, Tyra, same.

-Landry, one of my biggest pet peeves is asking someone out while they’re on the clock. Like, come on! let Tyra work, boy.

-Jesus Christ it’s like everywhere Julie looks, she has to see Matt making out with someone. That’s rough.

-and oop Matt you busted bc Julie actually knows who Carlotta is!

-once a cheater, always a cheater, Buddy. And yes to Pam for being like “nah bye I’m happy now, it is over.” You treated her like garbage so here we are, sir!

-hilarious that Landry is the one who ends up throwing the first punch that gets the post-tornado, school-crossover tensions to finally boil over

-I like that they show both the fall formal and the party where everyone who didn’t go to the formal is. Nice.

-Aw poor Julie got drunk af to deal with all her feelings. This really is the season where they have Julie and Matt being sixteen year olds in the most painful ways. So maybe it’s good they’re not together during this tho I’m still looking forward to when the tide turns their way again.

-anyway, Tim is a good friend for getting the creep who thought he was “one beer away from getting laid” off of Julie.

-And....in true Texas dad fashion, Eric Taylor misinterprets everything! Noooo. We can’t have nice things.

-This Noelle-Smash partnership is definitely an interesting pairing. Two very ambitious football people courting all these recruiters while Smash’s mom side eyes them in the corner? Hilarious.

-omg not this Oklahoma tech recruiter harassing smash’s mom in the grocery store! GTFO here! Give her some fucking personal space. They really do such a good job of showing as much of the toxic shit about football culture as the inspiring, big moments.

-Aw and I love that Tami tried to help Mama Smash get the guy to go away. It’s such a familiar scene, women helping each other get a dude harassing them away. And then they have a heart to heart in the parking lot? Love that.

-omg what a throwback that Shelly TAPED OVER Eric’s football game to tape a NEW EPISODE of The Office! Love it. “Y’all should get a TiVo.”

-omg watching Tami and Eric work out arguments is so beautiful, they communicate very well! We stan a good marriage.

-wow seeing the other coach from tornado school lose his shit publicly after he knocked down Riggins was uh....wild???? This is the second time he put his hands on Riggins!

-awww Eric actually coming to apologize to riggins for overreacting about Julie when he hears the real story??? Love it.

-Weevil from Veronica Mars shows up as a friend of Santiago’s? Of course.

-WOW and Logan from Gilmore girls as a Christian radio host...tracks.

“Is that your way of telling her you like her?” Jason making a surprisingly astute observation about Tim. (And Lyla.)

-yo why would you invite your daughter’s boyfriend’s family over for dinner just to say they shouldn’t date? (And bc it’s an interracial relationship.) Southern culture is wild to me lol

-wow the racist coach from last season is now off spouting his mouth about how “no wife of mine would be working with a kid at home.” I love that Eric calls him out as sounding stupid and ignorant — you better!

-hearing that Lyla burned her cheerleading uniform is one of the most badass things she’s done so far tbh along with that dealership destruction

-off the rails update: 2x12 was toooo much!! Like, Jesus between Smash’s sister getting harassed at the movie theater by the racists who hate on smash and Noelle...and this plotline with Santiago and his old friends trashing Buddy’s place...it’s like, can we breathe.

-I could not be more excited for Carlotta to leave and another teenage boy with adult woman relationship to end.

-wow can’t believe the plotline where Riggins stole $3000 from a drug dealer isn’t ending well for him. And now Smash is getting arrested bc of those racist guys from the movie theater episode? One recap I read said that too many of this season’s plots feel contrived and I think that sums it up.

-is there any character who HASN’T worked at Buddy Garrity’s dealership at this point?!

-and yikes at all the other salespeople being mad that a salesperson in a wheelchair was hired...y’all mad ugly and ableist for that

-Tyra and Landry are....confusing

-Wait Logan from GG is an actual preacher and not just a Christian radio host? CREEPY. And he kissed Lyla? A lot to unpack there.

-lol Tim trying to woo Lyla is kinda funny to watch simply bc Tim is clearly so confounded by rejection

-I love how much space they give for Smash’s sister’s pain in the Noelle-Smash theater incident. A lesser show wouldn’t have centered her as much.

-is it mean of me to say Jason is boring AF most of the time

-yeah this dreads girl is seemingly way more compatible with Landry than Tyra yikes! Like she made him a power metal mix cd???

-wow this Smash storyline where mouthing off to the press is what gets him suspended....really checks out bc teenage boys are dumb

-I love Tami as a volleyball coach and getting to see another sport! Also as someone who’s been on a losing team I know that feeling of finally winning a game!!! Go Dillon volleyball!!! (Am I maybe currently writing a Bughead fic based on my underdog field hockey experiences? ;) yes yes I am)

-Oh shit now Saracen’s at the nihilistic Nothing Matters phase of teenage angst. Right on schedule!

-lol these two short haired blondes (white dreads Jean and Tyra) being in a love triangle with Landry is wild

-Omg jean just said, “are you a friend or are you competition?” She is not playing!

-I love Riggins dragging Saracen to practice

“I don’t want you to become at an at-risk youth” -Landry teasing Saracen while also sincerely caring about him is some of the best friendship banter on this show. The accuracy 😂

-It seems like Julie gets a lot of hate? But I think I have such a soft spot for Julie bc I was a bitchy teenager with undiagnosed mental health disorders and I just wish so much #growth for her! Also I really do miss her and Saracen’s relationship, I’m so excited I’m almost at S3 where it seems like it’s happening again?

-LOL this guy at the dmv is the first person in Dillon to be like, “no I hate football.” That tracks.

-wow Saracen is getting driven to the hospital to make sure his grandma is okay by the sex worker who was just giving him a lap dance. Amazing.

-also I hope grandma is okay!

-okay Tyra throwing her hat in the ring for Landry at the last minute? Idk I think Jean deserves the win but there’s no way it’ll happen bc she’s a guest actor?!

-awww Saracen’s abandonment issues coming out whiles he in the tub after being sobered up by Eric Taylor. “There’s nothing wrong with you.” 😭 and “your daughter left me for a better guy” - will take that crumb — first mention of Julie out of Saracen’s mouth in a minute

-hey, Landry, my friend: flirting with a girl (Jean) to get her outside then dumping her immediately is kind of a wild bait and switch. But I get it, he’s been in love with Tyra for a long time and Tyra IS right — they had a very fucked up start to their relationship so it makes sense she needed a minute to process her ~feelings~. however I definitely identified closer to a jean in my high school experience L O L (minus the unacceptable white dreads)

-these Julie and Tami driving scenes are painfully accurate, btw. Love them.

-wow the scene of Smash hyping everyone up, the adrenaline/energy of the team cheering with helmets and a classic “clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose” - then the whole team running out onto the field and leaving an empty locker room with just Smash breaking down into tears....#art

-alright y’all I’m gearing up for the last episode of S2! Thanks to @lockitin for reminding me this is the writers’ strike season — I was in eighth grade then and remember being pissedddd about the shortened fourth season of “the office” — so I’m fully prepared for the abruptness to come.

-I love when they parallel showing the white church and the black church

-and Tim going to church just to see Lyla makes me laugh

-ooooof Jason you cannot put on this waitress you had a one night stand with the fact that this could be your only chance to have a baby!!! Omg this poor woman who just pointed out she, too, is NINETEEN.

-wait so is Riggins doing a sports show on a Christian radio station? What?

“I think you’re really hot. Your long hair reminds me of Jesus” -Christian girls being horny for Riggins LOL

-awww Saracen being like “okay Landry you’re gonna impress Tyra right now” before that football play was a cute friendship moment for those two

-aww I love how this Smash storyline is turning out with Coach Deeks whose had his eye on him for six years my heart 😭

-also unclear to me whether Logan Huntzberger the Preacher is a fully grown adult dating a high school senior?? Biggest teen drama pet peeve once again! Stop this!

-Tami is my heroine for just leaving Eric at the restaurant fighting with her ex. “see you at home, honey!”

-I’m sorry, is Jason gonna like actually convince this girl to have a baby with her one night stand at 19??? Oh lol wait THAT ended up being the cliffhanger of the whole season? Fucking hilarious.

well I made it through season 2!!! Super psyched for Season 3, Jay has been hyping me up for it. See y’all next time! (I’ll try to post more for season 3 bc this accidentally got long af.)

[hostiias]

NOW HOLD IT RIGHT THERE SWEET PEA!! I SAW THAT FROWN! 

           I know life can be rough and gets you down but don’t let it keep ya there ok? You are a precious being that the universe spent thousands of years planning for. You are here and if you remain you will find your starlight again, even if it all seems dark right now. 

               Point is you don’t gotta do it alone so here’s Nims abc’s of self-care, self-love, and respect !!

A: Attend. Attend those events you wanted; the ones you’ve been looking forward to. You might be nervous but if you don’t go and give it a try you’ll never know! We’ll all be here for you whether you go off to do something or not; trust that your writing partners don’t mind the wait at all !!

B: Believe. Believe that it’s ok to have hope in things; have faith that it’s alright to be vulnerable. The right people will accept you as you are--but you won’t find them if you aren’t willing to try. Shutting down and mistrusting everyone won’t get you anywhere darlin; the bravest thing you can do is keep going. 

C: Cuddle. Cuddle your blankets, your pet, your stuffies, your friends, your partners--have a cuddle buddy. Human touch might not be a full option for you right now but hold something close to your chest and enjoy the feeling of something you value being pressed into your treasured form. 

D: Drink. Drink water! I know it might not be the most interesting or fun but your body really needs it. If you find that water by itself doesn’t work, mix it 50/50 with a thick juice. Staying hydrated is the best way to keep yourself feeling up to snuff! 

E: Empathize. Empathize with yourself. Yes everyone else is important too; it’s ok to try and put yourself in other peoples shoes but look at yourself with the same understanding. You’ve had your own share of troubles and challenges that tested your well--everything. You’re doing amazing with the tools you’ve been given--don’t forget that. Have a little grace for yourself yeah?

F: Food. Food also will help empower your brain and your body to be the best it can be. You might not always be able to handle a lot, if anything, but try. If you need eat something light like toast or keep snacks around that you can munch on; just keep a little something in your stomach when you can! 

G: Garbage. Garbage isn’t really very hygienic and sometimes when you’re depressed you have a hard time picking up after yourself. I get it! But if you leave your space full of trash you’ll feel like trash...and that’s just no good! Take some time to gather it all up and throw it away so your environment can feel cleaner !!

H: Hear. Hear what others say because you are only human and it is alright to make mistakes; you are hardly expected to be perfect. It’s alright to have slipped up--let them speak, apologize, grow. There’s no need to bring yourself down for it, others only speak up to help you learn. Not only that but hear their opinions and their stories; keep an open mind to things you learn in case it is wrong. 

I: Inspiration. Inspiration is your best friend. It doesn’t matter what that is...if something helps bring out your creative side, let it shine! You don’t need to hide the things that feed into your hobbies and your plans; they are wonderful and you should treasure them. 

J: Justified. Justified to be unapologetically you. Justified to have feelings and want to feel them. You are not less for not always being able to react or behave in the way the world expects you to; you are unique after all and it’s ok to be that way. You don’t owe anyone anything. 

K: Karma. Karma is your ally and your friend. You do not need to seek vengeance, justice, or retribution for those who wronged you--their time will come. Focus on being better; focus on being the person they said you couldn’t be. Prove them wrong and let karma worry about the punishments for their bullshit--you just focus on being the royalty you are. 

L: Laundry. Laundry is rough because you have to wash it, dry it, then fold and put it away. how can you make it fun? Can you put on music and jam out? Maybe there’s a game you can play while waiting between loads. Watch a movie and/or tv show while you do it (especially folding)! No one said it had to be boring, you can and should make it enjoyable! Maybe start with clothes you think you’ll need for the week (underwear, work clothes, etc) so what you need gets done first; take the rest a little at a time. Sometimes if you’re behind just doing one load a day helps wittle it down without it being overwhelming. 

M: Memory. Memories are invaluable and you shouldn’t fear or be ashamed of any of them. If your memory is embarrassing, learn from it--or maybe it’s the other people in it that should feel embarrassed !! Your memories are who make you you and it would be a shame to not be yourself. Hold onto your past, keep it like a photobook in your life so when you need them most--you can look back on them and hold your head high. 

N: Notice. Notice the actions of others. Compare how people treat you to how the people you encourage in others lives treat each other. If someone did the things they do to you to one of your friends, would you encourage them to stay in contact? Or would you tell your friend to get the hell out? Sometimes we accept less than we deserve and tell others to expect more--but you deserve just as much respect as they do. You are not less for being you. 

O: Open. Open up about your past when you feel you can trust someone; to your counselor or the parent figure in your life. Open your heart to the possibility of change. I know it’s scary and you feel like a burden but the more open you are, the stronger your lasting relationships will be. Communication is key!

P: Plan. Planning is no ones favorite thing and yeah you know sometimes they change, but it’s ok to have a course charted out. Sure life might tell you that your plans need to change and throw you in a way you didn’t expect--but no one said plans had to be set in stone! Just like the outline for your paper--a plan is an outline for your life, not the whole thing. You’ll get where your going one way or another--just set yourself on the right course and the rest of it will work out. 

Q: Quiet. Quiet is so demonized because as humans we are used to being surrounded by noise and sometimes your depression makes you afraid of silence. But then while being left alone with your own thoughts is hard it’s not bad if the quiet is by choice. Choose to go out for a walk, get out of town for a few days, expose yourself to the quiet of nature; a gentle white noise. Maybe a good book would be a nice change of pace; just the rustle of the world and pages. It’s ok to revel in the silence--however you do it. Quiet is not always bad, it’s ok to seek it out. 

R: Respect. Respect is earned not given--bullshit! Respect is given but can be taken away. You should always respect others as they should respect you! But if they abuse that respect? Oh hell nah honey you yank that shit away. Respect is given, but they have to keep earning it every day. You’ve earned that shit already, but that doesn’t mean other people have earned it from you. Don’t forget that !!

S: Shower. Shower because you need it. I hate them as much as the next person but a clean you feels a lot better inside, trust me. Have a clean set of clothes waiting for you so not only your skin--but your clothes feel clean. Or you know, just revel in the feeling of your own skin; I’m not here to judge. Plus you know hot water feels really good on sore muscles !!

T: Tea. Tea is my favorite thing in the world! Do you like it too? There’s so many options both herbal and non-herbal! I really like black tea with a spoonful of honey and some milk--but I really like my stress-reliever herbal tea. There’s nothing more soothing than holding a warm cup in your hands and just letting that heat soak into your bones--speaking of you probably have a cup waiting for you !! (could be coffee or cocoa too, we don’t bring that debate here!)

U: Undefined. Undefined is you, my dear. It doesn’t matter how old you are, how long you’ve been around--it’s never too late to figure things out; to change how you see yourself. My mother is 65 and going back to school--learning she is non-binary. You don’t need to figure it all out now; you don’t need to have all the answers or labels. You can keep changing, keep growing, keep redefining yourself--because the only person who gets to say who you are or who you aren’t--is you. 

V: Victory. Victories are hard fought, no matter how small...and you should celebrate them !! Even if it’s just a little dance--celebrate it !! You wanna gush about this seemingly insignifigant thing? Hell yeah, do it !! Did you get out of bed this morning? Victory !! Did you brush your teeth? Victory !! Did you say something positive about yourself instead of using self-degrading language? VICTORY !!

W: Wish. Wishing on stars was something you heard about a lot as kids--well it’s ok to still do it !! Who said you had to stop wishing on stars? Who said you were too old? It’s ok to have dreams !! It’s ok to have child-like wonder and ideas. You don’t have to be bored and cynical about the world just cause others say you do. If a kids hobby/show/book/etc makes you happy? Fuck how old you are, you can still enjoy the thing !!

X: x-pect. Expect that you should be treated well; that being with someone makes you feel at ease and at peace (yes I know I’m cheating with this one shhh). Who said that all the cheesy things you see about friendship and romances in movies can’t be true? Like yeah ok it isn’t always like that and there’s hard work that goes into it...but that doesn’t mean it can’t be true !! You don’t need to doubt someones sincerity just because it reminds you of fiction. Reality is what inspires fiction after all, is it not? It’s ok to have a life sound track and it’s ok for your relationships (platonic or otherwise) to feel larger than life !!

Y: Yell. Yell for joy, yell out of anger, yell just cause you want to. I don’t know who made you feel like you needed to be quiet all the time but that’s just not true !! I mean there are times to keep your voice low and times to be mindful of your volume, but it doesn’t have to be all the time. You can be loud !! It’s ok to be !! Sometimes it’s the only way you feel heard and sometimes you’re just so PUMPED that you gotta let the whole world know--so do it !! Be loud and be proud !!

Z: Zen. Be at peace with yourself, darling. I know that things are hard and sometimes you have to fight like hell to stay--but it’s gonna be ok. It doesn’t have to be ok yesterday, today, or even tomorrow. It can sting and you can let it weigh on you. You can take up space--you can ask for a shoulder to lean on--because there is so much space out there and that means there’s more than enough for you in the world, and here in my heart. 

Remember that you are loved, that I love you and we’ll get through this together--one letter at a time !!

[junker-town]

The day Chris Long gave a season of NFL checks to charity

The Eagles defensive end’s career is football, but he won't let it be his legacy.

Chris Long looks up from his phone in time to see the stoplight change from yellow to red. He slams on the brakes of his Toyota FJ Cruiser and apologizes; he’s trying to follow his GPS while looking for an Instagram video he filmed with a drone at his farm in Virginia. It’s a bird’s eye view of him and a few childhood friends blowing up a Darth Vader doll stuffed with colored powder and Tannerite, an explosive target used in rifle practice.

Long, a defensive end for the Philadelphia Eagles, is driving to the Mariana Bracetti Academy Charter School in North Philly to speak to high schoolers. Earlier this morning, he announced that he and his wife Megan are donating his last 10 game checks to three different organizations devoted to educational equality in the three cities in which he’s played football. He’s calling his new initiative “Pledge 10 for Tomorrow,” encouraging fans to give what they can, and he’ll donate an extra $50,000 to the city with the most donations.

“Ah, here it is!” he says, finding the video. “I know Tannerite isn’t good, but how cool does this look?”

He hands me his phone. It looks very cool, mesmerizing even. Long has set the video to a song by My Morning Jacket, and the soaring chords match the brilliant bursts of teals, greens, and pinks that billow out against a white blanket of snow.

“One of my buddies from high school who I do this stuff with just had a kid,” Long says, taking his phone back. “I hope it doesn’t mean he’ll stop doing dumb shit like this with me.”

I remind Long, who is 32, that he has a kid, and that having children hasn’t stopped him, nor generations of men before him, from doing dumb shit.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he says, and smiles.

Long starts telling me about the other dumb shit he does. He regularly runs out of gas. He's had the car we’re in for two years and hasn't registered it. He lost his birth certificate a while ago. He was so obsessed with the movie Drive that he bought himself a ‘96 Chevy Impala, then totaled it listening to the soundtrack a day later. (He owned a replica of the scorpion jacket Gosling wore, too, but gave it to Goodwill after the crash because “the dream had died.”) Last year, he listed his former Patriots teammate Danny Amendola’s number on a fake Craigslist ad for a Suzuki Spider, then watched a bewildered Amendola field calls from people looking to buy his nonexistent motorcycle. He and William Hayes, who’s on the Dolphins now but played with Long on the Rams, once filled a teammates’ car with packing peanuts and crickets. The crickets died and it smelled terrible.

“I am incapable of not being a regular fucking moron,” Long says, laughing.

He misses the turn for the high school. He whips the car around, finds the entrance, parks, and walks by a few vans belonging to local news crews and NFL Films. The league is filming the event for some series about Players Doing Good Stuff.

This fall is the first time Long has so overtly publicized his charitable work. He founded WaterBoys in 2014 after he climbed Kilimanjaro with his then-teammate James Hall. So far the organization has funded 26 wells — 22 of which have been built in East Africa — that serve 7,000 people each. With former NFL player and Green Beret Nate Boyer, Long also leads trips of veterans up Kilimanjaro. He then founded the Chris Long Foundation in 2015.

Following the Unite the Right rally in his hometown of Charlottesville, Va., he was moved to put his arm around his teammate Malcolm Jenkins when Jenkins raised his fist during the national anthem before a preseason game. Long has continued to do so through the season, and yesterday, he and Jenkins were two of 12 players at the NFL owners fall meetings to discuss the protests. In a week, they will spend their day off after the Eagles’ Monday Night Football game against Washington at the Pennsylvania State Capitol advocating for criminal justice reform.

After his symbolic gesture, Long felt he had to publicly do something concrete. In September, he gave his first six checks to fund two scholarships at St. Anne’s-Belfield, the private high school he went to in Charlottesville (even though he and Megan had quietly funded two already, and those kids are about to head off to college). But he wanted do something “more macro,” so now he’s giving away his last 10 checks, too, forgoing an entire season’s salary. He also created the matching campaign on social media because he thinks a lot of people truly do want to help, they just don't know how. Give them a link and a pre-vetted charity, turn it into a competition, and boom: you’re raising hundreds of thousands of dollars. (As of publication, Long has raised over $205,000.)

Inside the high school, Sylvia Watts McKinney, the director of Summer Search, one of the programs Long is supporting, introduces him to the group of kids he’ll be speaking to. She reads a passage from Ralph Ellison’s essay What These Children Are Like.

“If you can show me how I can cling to that which is real to me, while teaching me a way into the larger society, then I will not only drop my defenses and my hostility, but I will sing your praises and help you to make the desert bear fruit.”

“A little bit about me,” Long says, after he thanks McKinney and takes the mic. “I’m a football player. I spent eight years in St. Louis, and we never won more than seven games in a season, which is really bad, for anyone who follows football. It was a rough time.”

He’s not using any notes, and sounds far more natural than he did recording a Pledge 10 PSA from a teleprompter this morning at the Eagles facility. The students, very few of whom are white, seem skeptical at first, but they warm up as Long tells them how the Rams never made the playoffs, how he was injured in 2014, how he was released in 2015, how he went to New England and won a Super Bowl. He thinks he can do that here with the Eagles. A few kids whoop.

Long, back row, with students from North Philly’s Mariana Bracetti Academy Charter School.

“For me as a student growing up,” Long says, switching gears, “I had everything I could ask for. Every resource was at my disposal. I went to a private school, I had tutoring, all those mentoring opportunities I needed, but I still struggled in school. I wasn’t a great student, but I also think I took it for granted. And that is something I really regret.”

Long did, and does, have everything. He’s the son of Diane and Howie Long. Howie was a famous NFL player, actor, and is now an analyst. Football is the reason Long — and his brother Kyle, who plays for the Bears, and Howie Jr., who works in player personnel for the Raiders — grew up rich and is the thing that has made him richer. It’s afforded him over 311,000 Twitter followers, given him a platform. Which, right now, he’s using to tell kids that they should value people the way people value retweets or likes on Instagram. This makes them laugh.

Then he lets it rip.

“Life is short,” he says. “Live it with joy. I really think that the biggest thing I could leave you with today is to take pleasure in the work that you do, whether in classroom or community, and enjoy it. Be that contagious light that spreads energy to other people. Great people make other people feel they can be great, too. We talk about this in the locker room as football players and leaders, how you want everyone around you to feel like they can be great for having played with you, sat in a classroom with you, been a friend of yours. Through your loyalty, your excitement, and for who you are. Be contagious in your energy.”

It’s Wednesday around noon, five hours before the event at the high school, and Long is walking into the Whole Foods next to the apartment he and Megan are renting in Philly. It’s 75 degrees out, but he’s decided it’s fall, so he’s wearing socks with Birkenstocks, thick sweatpants, a long sleeve wool shirt, and a Carhart vest.

“I call his style, ‘rich hobo,’” Green Bay Packers tight end Martellus Bennett will tell me on the phone a few days later. He played with Long in New England and the two became very close. Bennett describes their connection as “cerebral.”

“He’d walk into the locker room and I’d be like, ‘Nice jacket, but those sweats are trash, and those Birks gotta go,’” Bennett says. “But he has to wear socks because his toes are gross. I love his style, he always makes me feel okay to dress the way I dress. We both just didn’t care. He’s like a rich bum. Just look at him.”

The rich bum is currently looking at a wall of healthy-looking drinks. He picks up a Maple Water and puts it in his basket. I ask what Maple Water is. He’s not totally sure, but it’s probably just water with maple in it, and he says it’s good. I ask if he worries about getting recognized when he goes out in public.

“Nah,” he says. “I haven’t been in Philly long enough. And the great thing about being a football player is you don’t get a ton of facetime. You always have a helmet on.”

Long also grew up around fame. It’s not something new he’s had to adjust to.

“It’s too hot for the hot bar,” he says, waving his hand in the direction of the steam trays of chicken and tofu.

He then proceeds to wander up and down each aisle. I lose him at one point, which is hard to do, because he’s 6’3” and weighs 276 pounds. His arms are the size of a normal human’s neck. He has wide eyes, a square jaw, and broad, decisive shoulders. He could pass for a Viking, if Vikings had tattoos that said VIRGINIA; he has a full sleeve on one arm and a half on the other that will soon become full. Tattoos, he says, are addicting.

“He shows us as black players in the NFL that he gets it. He’s not turning a blind eye.” — Martellus Bennett

Long scoops some peanuts and raisins out of a bulk bin. If he occasionally acts like a teenager, he consistently eats like one (or at least a somewhat health conscious one). Over the next three hours, I’ll watch him eat a bowl of cereal, a protein bar, a piece of Ezekiel bread with peanut butter, a chicken breast, an entire bag of trail mix, a grapefruit, more trail mix, all of these peanuts and raisins, and another protein bar.

“He’s a total meat,” Diane will say about her son when I call her tomorrow. Long credits his parents — who’ve been involved with the Boys and Girls Club of Charlottesville for a long time — for teaching him and his brothers the importance of giving back.

“Did he clean his truck when you were there?” Diane asks.

I tell her I don’t know if he cleaned it, but that it was very neat.

“I'll tell you what,” she says. “That’s probably the one inauthentic thing you saw about him. Because usually, when you get in that truck, there’s piles of clothing and paperwork. He looks like he lives out of his car. He probably cleaned it for you.”

About an hour after the Whole Foods excursion, Long is sitting in a plush room off of the lobby of his apartment. He just called in to Ryan Russillo’s radio show, and we can’t go back upstairs because Megan doesn’t want us to wake their 18-month-old son, Waylon. We have to get out of this room, though, because the sun is beating directly in and Long is sweating through his wool shirt.

“You wanna play pool?” Long asks.

I say sure, so we head to the lobby, where there’s a pool table that no one ever uses. We’re playing best of five. Long breaks, then sinks the eight ball a few turns later. I win. I somehow manage to win the next game, too, on my own merit, which shocks both of us.

Suddenly, he realizes there's a chance he could actually lose this thing. His eyes narrow and he starts enforcing obscure rules. He wants to raise the stakes, so we bet that I have to publicize who loses in this article.

Long was the No. 2 draft pick out of UVA and a fierce competitor during his six “miserable” seasons with the Rams. He was, at one point, one of the best defensive ends in the league, but the team consistently sucked, and he suffered back-to-back, season-ending injuries in 2014 and 2015. When then-Rams coach Jeff Fisher released him, Long reached out to Bill Belichick and the Patriots. New England wasn’t the perfect schematic fit for Long in terms of defense, but he just wanted to win, so Belichick said he’d find something for him to do.

Photo by Patrick Smith/Getty Images

Chris Long won a Super Bowl during his one season with the New England Patriots.

Last season wasn’t ideal from an individual standpoint — he was only on the field for 65 percent of the snaps — but it culminated in a remarkable Super Bowl win. And it gave him some of his closest friends; he still talks often to Bennett, Devin McCourty, Julian Edelman, and Rob Ninkovich often. That team had something special.

Still, he can’t get rid of the devil on his shoulder whispering that he wasted his prime with St. Louis, a team that was once a single fake punt away from going 0-16. He decided not to resign with the Pats because, while a championship was nice, he’s still acutely aware that he won as a role player. He loved team success, but his individual ambition was still unfulfilled.

“My career’s been all over the map, and I think players struggle with what’s their legacy,” Long says. “I haven’t been a superstar, but you can still think about your average-ass legacy. What’s kept me in the game is trying to leave on my terms. This has probably happened to so many players, and I probably won’t be able to accomplish it. But I want to leave playing at a high level. And using the game. I don’t want to let the game use me.”

Long felt that the Eagle’s defense was a better fit for him, and his intuition that they’d exceed expectations has turned out to be correct. With only one loss, Philadelphia has the best record in the league as of Week 7. And while he isn’t on the field more than he was in New England — he’s playing just 45% of snaps this year — he has two sacks so far and seems happy with his role. He also knows that as an active player, he has a bigger platform to raise money and speak out than he would if he retired.

Long sinks a shot, rubs his arm. He’s still sore from the Thursday game against the Panthers, which was almost a week ago. When he was recovering from surgery in 2014, he’d sit on the sidelines and watch huge guys crash into each other, thinking, I do this? He hasn’t been diagnosed with any concussions, but he worries about how CTE manifests itself. He also knows it’s too late to reverse any damage.

“And what’s me taking a knee in response to Trump? That’s not what this is about. He can’t make me kneel or stand.” — Chris Long

“Something I worry about more than that is the void that football will leave when I’m done playing,” he says. “You’ve been doing something your whole life, and then it’s over. You’re approaching your middle age. My friends back home have settled in. When I stop playing, I’m going to be the one who’s like, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”

Long wins the fourth game to tie us up, 2-2. He keeps getting interrupted by the phone calls, FaceTimes, and texts from other players (including one from Edelman that just says “so tight”) as Pledge 10 gains traction.

“I think he’s one of the most genuine guys you could be around, especially off the field,” Hayes tells me. “Ninety percent of the guys you play football with, you don’t talk to after that. Chris and I haven’t played together the last couple years, but we’ve never left each other. He was my partner in crime when it came to pranks, and we both love competition. I tried to push him every day, and he did the same for me. He’s more of a brother than even a friend.”

Long breaks to start the fifth game, then goes on a roll, putting away most of his stripes for an early lead. He eyes up the cue ball, aiming for the striped No. 10, but he judges the angle wrong and sinks the eight ball again. I win.

We go back up to Long’s apartment after playing pool. Waylon has woken up, and is very busy putting wooden pieces of mail into his wooden toy mailbox. He’s a spunky kid with a mullet, which Long thinks is hilarious (he called him a young Mike Gundy on Instagram, in reference to the mulleted head coach of Oklahoma State). Megan gives Long a hard time for losing to me while she gets ready to take Waylon to the park.

Nicole Woodie, who used to run community outreach for the Rams until Long hired her to run his foundation, showed up at the apartment a few minutes ago. She sits on the couch replying to emails. Media requests have been pouring in since Pledge 10 went live.

“Someone from The Ellen Show just emailed me,” Long says, sprawled out on the coach and overflowing onto the ottoman. “They want me to come on. I’m gonna tell them no.”

“Chris, are you crazy?!” Woodie says. “You can’t turn down Ellen! Think of the moms!”

“Hmm,” Long says. “I don’t know. Would we reach people we wouldn’t reach through the sports media stuff we’re already doing?”

“Yes!” Woodie practically cries. “It's a totally different demographic! And Ellen usually does something like gives a big check. Come on, you have to do this.”

Long reluctantly agrees.

“His thing is that he’s not trying to bring attention to himself,” Bennett tells me. “He's trying to bring attention to the cause. That's noble, because a lot of people try to make it about themselves. He's trying to spread a message. He’s like, ‘Nah, I’m a part of this fight, but these [black players] are the generals. He wants to put the generals out there, guys who are more adept to talking publicly about it instead of himself."

I’ve watched Long try to do this all day. The Eagles’ PR guy asked Long this morning if he’d do SportsCenter before the upcoming Monday Night Football game against Washington.

“Nope. Put Malcolm on,” Long told him. “Put Malc up there. He’s doing great stuff in Philly.”

On Monday night, SportsCenter will run a short segment on Long anyway. But they will have to use old footage, random photos they dug up, and quotes from one of Long’s statements.

“How do you support guys like Malcolm without hijacking the situation?” Long wonders. “And then how do you interject your opinion without making it seem like you know these issues better than the people dealing with them? That’s a thin line you gotta walk.”

Bennett thinks Long is managing to walk it.

"You go through the league,” Bennett says, “and not many white players are actually saying things like Chris does. When he does, it goes bigger than just a black player saying it. He shows us as black players in the NFL that he gets it. He’s not turning a blind eye. When white players stay quiet, I’m like, I know you see the struggle, I know you see what’s going on. You play with me. We're examples of how people can get along and come from different backgrounds to work toward the same common goal. But when I speak on things that matter like this, and you turn your head, it’s like you think you can wash it away.

“Chris has always been real about it,” Bennett continues. “We'll have a conversation if he doesn’t understand something. That’s a powerful thing. And now he’s donating all of his salary to equality education? It's just like, what?!?"

Hayes appreciates Long’s involvement, too.

“When he put his hand on Malcolm’s shoulder, it showed a lot,” he says. “That one little thing he did. He knew that it could possibly cause a rift or cause a lot of conversation, but Chris, he knows what’s right, and what feels right. And he’s gotta stand up for it.”

Photo by Rich Schultz/Getty Images

Eagles defensive end Chris Long embraces teammate Malcolm Jenkins on October 8, 2017, during the National Anthem.

Long hates that Trump has made the method of protest the point of contention. He thinks the national anthem is the most effective way players can draw attention to social injustice in their communities, but he’s never felt comfortable taking a knee because of the work he’s done with veterans. After Trump said that team owners should fire any player who kneels, a lot of people tweeted at Long telling him it was now his duty to do so.

“A lot of people use the knee as though it were some barometer for how much you care about these issues,” Long says. “I could take a knee and not do a thing off the field — and I’m not alluding to anybody doing this, I’m just saying — and it would be worthless. And what’s me taking a knee in response to Trump? That’s not what this is about. He can’t make me kneel or stand.”

Long picks up Waylon and gives him a raspberry on his stomach, then goes to find a shirt that doesn’t have a picture of the band The Highwaymen on it. He comes back out wearing a corduroy button-down that Megan bought him yesterday. He almost walks out the door with the tag still on.

On Wednesday night, after his speech, Long spends time with the Summer Search kids in the cafeteria. He takes pictures, posts a video to his Instagram story, and then does the requisite press conference before thanking McKinney, the director of the program. On the drive home, he talks about how jazzed he is that he got to meet some kids his donations will benefit.

“Before somebody’s president, or a hero in society, or somebody who invents something, they were sitting in a classroom,” he says. “You have no fucking clue who that person’s gonna be, who sets that whole thing in motion that alters the path of a city. Programs like this tell kids, ‘You matter. You fuckin’ matter, man.’”

I ask Long if he liked high school, and instead of answering, he asks me if I liked high school. He keeps flipping the script like this — who would I profile if I could pick five people to write about? What’s been my biggest mistake in an article? What’s been my most disastrous tweet? (All of them, I tell him.) He might be testing the waters; he’s mentioned that he might want to have a podcast, or try writing, once he retires.

He’d be good at getting people to talk; I’m five minutes into a story about the time I almost got suspended before I remember he's supposed to be telling me things like this. I ask him the question again.

No, he says after a beat, he didn’t especially like high school. He thinks he squandered it. He loves his friends from Charlottesville, but he wonders what his life would’ve been like if he hadn't gone to college in the same town he grew up in. He’s grateful for football, but wonders what it would’ve been like to find a passion off the field, something that didn't require Toradol shots to the ankle. That wouldn’t be over before he’s 35. That he’d be sure could fill the void. He never graduated from UVA and still wants to get his degree. He wishes he could've lived two different lives at once.

“I don’t know if you were like this,” he says quietly, staring ahead. “But when I turned 18, I got so sad. I was like, man, I just want it all to slow down. I kept thinking how I’d be 30 soon, how we're running out of time. I’m always thinking 12 years ahead.”

Long is motivated by an adolescent invincibility and stubbornness, but guided by an old soul’s understanding that life is short. He’s at once the teenager still doing “dumb shit,” and a grown man looking 12, 20, 50 years into the future.

It’s this duality that allows him to believe two things can be true at once. He's convinced he can still have his best season yet, but knows time is working against him. He knows about the risks of CTE and the fragility of bones and tendons, but puts his brain and joints on the line each week. He’s squirmy in the spotlight, but knows he needs it to make the biggest difference he can.

“You’re looking to catch him in the lie. And you won’t. It’s just like, why bother?” — Scott Van Pelt

The path of least resistance for Long would’ve been to retire after winning a Super Bowl and shut the hell up. Instead, he signed with a new team and dove into the thorniest political issues facing the league. And now he's doing it for free, at potentially huge physical cost.

“Charity is one of the coolest parts of being a football player,” Long had said on night before the launch of Pledge 10. “I’m really not bullshitting you, I really do care about what we do. I would totally resent the idea that I just do this shit for no reason.”

He sounded desperate to make me believe him; I could almost see his brain spinning. I asked him if he’s ever anxious.

“Yeah,” he said. “I am. And I’m trying to control the narrative in a positive way. I want to make sure I’m not misunderstood. I hate being misunderstood.”

Long has this recurring dream where he’s going to jail for life. Because no matter how hard he tries, the narrative is out of his control. Thanks to social media, he hears people who accuse him of having a white savior complex, or of being an entitled millionaire trying to stay relevant. He can see when people call him a libtard, a snowflake, unpatriotic, tell him to stick to sports. It drives him nuts when people insult his intelligence, and it’s the reason he fires back — the way he did when people criticized him for not going to the White House after the Super Bowl. Or the way he will in a few days when a conservative columnist (whose recent columns include “Hollywood has too little masculinity, not too much”) for the Bucks County Courier Times writes that Long “is a good example of the odious trend of virtue signaling.”

There will always be naysayers, so what can he do? Find a place — both on and off the field — where he can be useful, try his hardest to do what he believes is the right thing, and hope to cement a legacy he’s proud of.

“You can’t believe this guy is as good as he is,” ESPN’s Scott Van Pelt says. He’s admires Long and gave $10,000 to Pledge 10. “You’re looking for reasons for him not to be great, or good, or with his heart in the right place. You’re looking to catch him in the lie. And you won’t. It’s just like, why bother? Why not just accept that this is someone whose heart really is where it appears to be, and just be happy that exists? As opposed to trying to figure out how, or being an accountant for ways he could better. What a waste of time.”

Long’s mother says something similar.

“It almost sounds like a Disney movie,” Diane tells me. “It’s like he’s a weird, dark Disney movie. Dark because the subjects are more serious, but really, he’s just a good soul trying to do good.”

Having successfully navigated back from the high school, Long pulls up to the parking garage of his building and turns his car off in the middle of the road. I’m confused at first, but then realize the fob that opens the gate is attached to his keys. Which means he has to take them out of the ignition. He does, then waves them in front of the security pad to open the door.

“Chris,” I say, “There’s gotta be an easier way to do this.”

“Yeah,” he says grinning. “I know.”

Then he puts the key in the ignition, turns the car back on, and floors it up the ramp.