#any time i have the opportunity to barf out art talk i will do it

[spacecolonie]

Hello! Do you have any advice with painting? Every time I start I end up just doing lineart with colours underneath, and when I do kindles art it looks kind of like plastic. Am I supposed to merge the two layers and then start shading? What would you recommend?

Hey anon!! I actually do have some advice for that!! I'll shove it under a cut because it got way longer than I thought it would, sorry for the infodump everyone _(:3 」∠)_

quick tl;dr: painting process should consider both personal taste & the desired aesthetic of a painting, & to avoid plastic-y colours, make sure your hues vary within your values (and layer modes are ur friend) ♥

there's a million ways to start paintings & its all down to personal preference -- the end goal for the illustration can often influence the approach you take; a crisp digital painting might call for meticulous layering & sharp edged flats, but if you want something to look like an oil painting, you should try and mimic that process as close as you can! here's some examples:

this is the sketch for my FYR zine piece from last year; i intentionally approached it in a way that looks like traditional underpaintings so that when I worked directly on top, those orange tones would peek through like this:

after doing that undersketch, i manually painted everything -- no fancy layer modes, just me, one layer, and screaming ಥ_ಥ it was hard but it worked for the vibe i wanted!!

now v.s something like this:

simple shapes, roughly blocked in shading that just gets merged and painted over, as well as lots of layer modes on top for those colour changes! this is by far the easier one & the one i'd probably recommend, solely because it lets you keep more control. i go more in depth here on that -- but to quickly answer, i personally block everything (including shading) in before I merge & render!

for the other thing you mentioned, a lot of the times that 'plastic' feeling can come from either a lack of transitional shades or only using white/black for your value tones. this tweet thread (direct image links 1, 2 & 3) by frozensoba demonstrates it incredibly well -- by adding certain colour shifts in your values, it can create extra depth which is what makes stuff look more alive!! don't be afraid to really push it and get wacky

an easy way to add it while you're learning is using gradient maps to add richness in your midtones. It's not perfect since different surfaces & materials diffuse light differently, but adding one at the end of a drawing can help tie everything together. If you can do both at once though it always looks best; here's some very quick 2 minute orbs as an example:

ok I'm almost done (and im so sorry for how long this got... special interest moment TM) -- one last thing is to try varying your brush strokes & adding textures if you want. using only an airbrush or heavily relying on blurring brushes can make things look plastic too; sometimes you want that, but for the times you don't, adding some texture & leaving brush marks in can do a lot!!

lastly, since this is just me rambling, here are some artists that are incredibly talented & i highly recommend looking at for their advice & processes because it will be much more coherent than this:

Marco Bucci -- amazing educational content. if you check out any of these artists, he's the one to look at first imo. his 10 minutes to better painting series is a great place to start

Sinix Design has some amazing tutorials on anatomy & the mechanics of painting! This video & the intermediate part 2 are super

Dao Trong Le -- a veritable goldmine of speedpaints

Bo Chen & any of the riot splash artists. If that's the vibe you're after, you can't go wrong with the LoL splashes as reference

i hope that helps!!!

[wherearemyglassesbro]

Hi, law student anon here! (And no lmao I'm not british but I do live in England) I was wondering, do you have any headcanons for how the characters survived law school? Like what their uni was, their favourite modules, their experience, random trivia, anything really 😂

Hello arse anon!! I can try!! 😅😅

I won’t be mentioning real universities or businesses cause this is an ace attorney au at heart so...nothing is real lmao :) and I also don’t know what is taught at law school so sorry if this is vague...I am just a newbie college student...Wanting to go into secondary education *dies*

Francis: Francis started out college in an arts program! He was going to major in painting and interior design. He also planned on flipping houses with Jeanne. But when she was murdered during his sophomore year in college, he dropped out to grieve and regain his composure. Jeanne’s case made a huge impact on his life and he changed his career course to become a prosecutor. While he did party a little and was social, he was focused on his education. Jeanne’s parents and his own supported him all the way!! There were times where he struggled because of his Art Brain getting distracted but he pushed through!! As hard as he could!!! He did not enjoy learning about banking law or anything having to do with math. Poor Fran nearly flunked math lmao

Arthur: Arthur wanted to be a lawyer in order to break the cycle of dirtbag criminals in his family. But in the beginning, he intended on going into elder law. He made friends with multiple professors who told him he’d do great working with old people and Art really loved the idea of representing old people when they didn’t have anyone else on their side. As he worked through the law program, he decided on being a defense attorney instead! He wasn’t very social in college and seeing him in full punk attire for law lectures was truly a sight to see lmao. He did very well!! He was in the top 7 of his class! When he graduated, only Griffin came to see him. His parents didn’t enjoy the idea of him being a lawyer cause...they’re criminals lmaoooo

Alfred: Alfred switched majors like three times. He originally wanted to be a sports team manager!! He fell out of love with that very fast. Then he wanted to be a mechanic! He also ended up hating that. He’s always wanted to help people though as when he saw Arthur in court, he was like ‘wowie I could do that!!!’ So he did! He played football and basketball, juggled a frat life and law school all at once. It’s kinda impressive now he managed such a broad social life as well as his schooling. He struggled with writing because he tended to just barf words on a page. He knew what laws were and all the info he needed in order to win a fake case but he needed help learning to speak and write eloquently. Arthur tutored him :) and Matt picked on him “You can’t say ‘bro’ in court, Al” “Shut up!!!! >:(“

Yao: Back in his day, being a lawyer wasnt glorfied the way it is now. With the 3 day trial system being brand new, he had a lot to adjust to. He did his best and met his wife in college!! Yao was not only a teachers pet, he quickly worked his way up to be the head of the tennis team lol. His college experience wasn’t anything spectacular but once he graduated, he shadowed a bunch of defense attorneys who now have their own reality tv show lmao. Working in LA was hard and he came close to quitting many times but he got a big break when he got to work a murder case!! He won (even though the client was guilty oops) and people flocked to him! Without taking on that case, he would have totally quit working with the law and worked in real estate with his wife (now ex wife)

Roderich: Roddy went to a super expensive law school on the East coast before moving to California. His family is rich so they just threw money at him and let him do whatever he wanted. His childhood was great cause he got whatever he wanted but he didn’t have like...the opportunity to help others cause it wasn’t something rich people did. So as he grew up he wanted to help others and seeing prosecutors on tv or reading about them in books??? He decided that he wanted to do that. He did not make any friends in college. He went to class, grinded through work and slept when he could. He was on a constant grind, going out of his way to prove himself as the best and I mean...He was. Roderich ended up being in the top 3 of his class. He was scooped uo almost immediately by the city prosecutors office when he made it to LA and has been working with them ever since! He really wants to be the chief prosecutor but he isn’t gonna push his luck

Eliza: Eliza is a first generation college goer in her family! She busted her ASS to get scholarships for academics and soccer and took out a sizable loan in order to get herself through school. Literally a self made woman and she’s just awesome for it. She knew she wanted to be a lawyer from the start so figuring out a career path wasn’t very hard. She and her college soccer team were super close, they went out a lot and had grouo study sessions all the time. She still keeps in contact with a couple of them!! She sucked up a lot to her professors to get on their good sides so they’d curve her grade at the end of the semester and hey! She got most of them to do that so good for her

Ivan: Ivan was pushed into going to a school that he didn’t want to go to poor guy. His mother paid for everything but he wasn’t allowed to participate in clubs cause it would ‘distract him’. He managed to convince her to let him join the damn chess club during his second year of college but she made him quit when he started getting close to his teammates. He graduated early because he took so many credit hours but his college experience was shit overall. He made like two friends but spent almost all of his time studying or shadowing his mom’s friends in court or just sitting in on trials, writing reports on them as he watched. Then he’d hand them in to his mother later. She was stricter with him than she was with Natalya but still just...awful lol. He went to the lawschool his mother went to so they recognized his name and would be like “Oh! Hey we got a Braginsky here! How’s you’s mom?” He hated how everyone talked about her. Sometimes he thought that those professors would just pass him cause he was a Braginsky...ugh...

Natalya: Her mother put her through the same law school as Ivan. She worked herself to the bone to graduate early in order to catch up to him. She wants to be the best. She wants their mother to be proud of her. She shadowed multiple prosecutors who used to work with her mom and attended as many public trials as possible in order to take notes. Throughout her college years she has super dark eye bags cause she just....Didnt sleep. Ivan would take her in and make her rest at his place where it was quiet. She was allowed to be in the choir and her mom would actually come to their concerts which was something she would usually say no to. Nat was also allowed to have more friends than Ivan which kinda made her feel bad cause her brother is so isolated all the time. Oh well. She’s still his friend :’)

Kiku: Kiku survived law school through spite alone. His mom insisted that he was not cut out to be a lawyer and every time she said that, he wanted to be a lawyer even more!! He took out loans and got himself through school. He had a lot of professors that he ended up liking and bonded with his ‘criminal psychology’ professor!! He didn’t have many friends but he felt comfortable going to that professor for advice. Kiku was very interested In bankruptcy law from the beginning but he thought that being a defense attorney would be more rewarding as well as more impressive to his family

[anywhozits]

All I Really Want Chapter 4

Rating: M

Pairing: Kristanna (at some point lol)

Verse: 90s High School AU / frozen retelling

Chapter Summary: Hans and Anna go on a their first date.

Notes: This chapter has some extra warnings—there are references to and conversations about underage sex. Nothing graphic, nothing explicit. None of that will be in any chapter of this fic. However, while reading this chapter specifically, it is important to note that this is a fictional account of one character’s experience. This is definitely not meant to be a universal depiction of how adolescence is “supposed to go” or anything to that effect. Everybody has their own timelines for things like this, which is perfectly valid, and in fact, exactly how it should be—individualized.

Read on Ao3

Anna took a deep breath, sighing contentedly while smoothing out her pink silk dress. She knew Hans didn’t mean to be late or keep her waiting or whatever, but she sat here, ready, for the last twenty minutes and he said he was going to arrive ten minutes ago. But Anna didn’t even know whether to trust his word at this point.

She didn’t even know him, really. She didn’t even know what he was like…

Yeah. True. Ugh—shit. Kristoff was right. She didn’t know that much about him.

Well. Okay—his last name was Westergaard. He had 13 brothers.

Um.

He had red hair and green eyes and this really pointy nose that looked really hot and cute at the same time. Like hotute or umm maybe hute. Nah. Hotute was much better.

So, yeah. He had red hair, green eyes, and a hotute nose.

What else…

He lived in Newport Beach.

And… she also knew that…

They had a lot of fun together! They had the most fun together she’d ever had with anybody in her whole life.

And this fun, well—she moved a little quickly with him. It was her decision to take things past kissing on their second night together. And duh—kissing him brought out some kind of really nice jolt of electricity, and it felt so absolutely amazing to actually share that electricity with someone else. So, she couldn’t help it. She was happy to move… quickly. She was more than happy to. They hadn’t done everything yet, but...

Well, it meant they didn’t do much… talking, exactly.

Of course, Anna still found the words somehow in between kisses and um—other things—to monologue about whatever consumed her mind.

But Hans didn’t say much at all. About himself, at least. He still asked a lot of personal questions about her life.

Maybe she should ask him some for a change. Besides, they couldn’t make out throughout the whole dinner, either. That felt like a big no-no in such a super ritzy establishment as Five Crowns anyway. So, they had to talk.

Her stomach suddenly sank.

It was like… she was nervous?

About spending the night with her… friend… with? benefits?

But that seemed so wrong? Why would she be nervous about spending a couple hours gnawing on steak and delicious soufflé and talking with the guy she loved most?

Why did the entire concept of conversation make her want to barf on the spot?

Her stomach fell to her knees.

Maybe Kristoff was right. Maybe love at first sight didn’t exist and she was just lying to herself because she wanted it so badly and…

No. No. Kristoff was getting in her head. It didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t mean anything.

She and Hans would make wonderful conversation at their friends-with-benefits-dinner-date and it would be all fine and dandy and wonderful.

She’d ask him some questions. She’d get to know him. And then she’d show Kristoff! She’d show the shit out of him and that grumpy BFF of hers would be totally wrong!

Except Hans still wasn’t here. So, Anna nervously fidgeted with her dress again. She tried to smooth it out. She clipped and unclipped the two hot pink sparkly snap clips that were on either side of her middle-parted red hair.

After her seventh time fiddling with the clips, she heard the intimidating chime of the doorbell.

Thank God.

She counted to twenty-five before she allowed herself to open the door, needing him to think she had better things to do than twiddle her thumbs and wait for him.

The second she saw his handsome face, her entire bundle of nerves completely disappeared. “Hans!” She ran up to him and wrapped her arms around his neck to give him a passionate kiss on the lips. He stumbled back a little bit, not quite ready for this show of affection, probably, but he caught himself easily, finally relaxing into the kiss and bringing his hands to the small of her back.

“You ready, babe?”

She kissed him again. “Mmhmm,” she mumbled into his mouth.

“Let’s do it.”

And all of a sudden, the nerves were back. Now that she had to contemplate how they would make it through dinner before getting back to this whole smooching business.

But she gave him no inkling of any of these likely-Kristoff-induced-second-thoughts and smiled brightly. She followed him to his black Mercedes and bit her lip for the entirety of the car ride. His hand rested on her thigh, squeezing it ever so slightly.

Only letting up when they pulled off Pacific Coast Highway and into the Five Crowns Parking lot and Anna caught herself shaking.

Nervous, still.

Thankfully Hans took her hand, guiding her into the restaurant in a way that felt more… relationship-y than she was expected. This wasn’t friends. It certainly didn’t seem like friends.

Oh, crap. Maybe she needed to have this conversation with Hans tonight, too. Crap. Crapity crap crap crap. That was not at all what she wanted.

But the fact that there were about five hundred million butterflies eating away at absolutely everything in her stomach right before she was about to chow down on some delicious and expensive food that she actually really wanted to enjoy…

She should do it. Yup. She should do it. All she had to do was wait for the perfect window of opportunity and then she’d just—bam get it all out there out in the open and then they’d say I love yous for days and then go back to his car for some making out and it would be glorious and perfect and probably the best date she’d ever been on.

Wait.

Date. This was a date.

She and Hans hadn’t really… been on a date since they met in February. Not a real date, at least. They went to the movie Vegas Vacation but classically sat in the back and made out the whole time, like, so much so that she didn’t even know exactly what the plot was besides the Griswolds going to Las Vegas and oh yeah—Wayne Newton was also there at some point?

She didn’t count that as a date, exactly. Because of the lack of… talking.

And all the other times they only hung out at each other’s houses.

Which meant… this was her first date. What better time to figure out if they were hopefully something more than just friends? Because friends with benefits wasn’t really what she wanted out of any of this. She knew she should be thankful that she had love. They loved each other. That was great. But… she wanted a relationship, too.

Okay. So that was the game plan. All systems very much go.

When she looked around at the restaurant, taking in the English Tudor / nautical hybrid décor, she began to feel a little out of her element. Her silk dress suddenly became itchy. Everybody else in the restaurant had to be at least 40 years old at a minimum and she thought she must seem like a child. Her pink dress and her pink glitter snap clips and her pink eyeshadow only further proved this point.  

This made her even more nervous. Uncomfortable. It made her worry she’d never find the right opportunity to have this mature and important conversation when she felt like she was eight years old and at her father’s birthday dinner again.

But she’d try…

When they sat down next to each other at their corner booth, Anna’s stomach lurched. Still very worried. Still very young and out of place. Now was definitely not the right opportunity.

The right opportunity didn’t arise when they ordered their French Onion Soups and Filet Mignons.

The right opportunity didn’t arise when they received their French Onion Soups, when they slurped them up, when Anna realized her breath probably reeked more than she cared to admit.

But once the French Onion Soups were cleared, once Hans placed his right arm comfortably over Anna’s shoulders, so she could lean in close… she thought maybe now was the time.

But Hans wanted to talk, too.

“What classes are you in this year?”

This question jarred her. She hadn’t realized they somehow hadn’t covered any of this basic information in the last month. “Oh. Um. I’m taking Geometry Honors, Spanish II, World History, Conceptual Physics or whatever the freshman science is. Oh! And also, studio art because that sounded fun!” She had to take a break for a bit to catch her breath. “English I, too. But I’m not that happy about it because I really wanted Honors English but apparently that doesn’t exist for freshmen? Which seems really dumb because obviously there’s a lot of us who can handle it. I’ve already read like all of the books on our English I reading list. Like, Sense and Sensibility? Jane Eyre? Catcher in the Rye? Honestly? That feels like middle school to me but whatever.” Anna didn’t usually let that many people in on her secret middle school classic literature obsession, but once she got going she couldn’t stop herself. “Um. Sorry. I got all rambly again. I just really like English. It’s my favorite subject. If you couldn’t already tell…”

“Yeah. English is solid.”

“Mmhmm! And what are you taking?” Anna asked. “Let me guess. You look like an … AP US History guy. French III? Regular English. Ummm.. I don’t know what math. And probably um chemistry honors?”

“Close.”

“So, what is it?”

“I’m in Latin. And yep. APUSH, regular English, Chem Honors. I’m in AP Stats this year. I was so over calculus. Such a bullshit class. Tried it for a day but that bitch Ms. Maloney fucking hated me for no reason.”

“Oh. Okay.” Anna bit her lip. This was stagnating. And he was way too oddly aggressive about that calc class. Her stomach dropped again. She wanted to make sure they had the best conversation of their entire lives at Five Crowns on her first real date. “So, then what’s your favorite subject?”

“History.”

“What do you like about it?” Anna asked.

“Wars are hella dope. Cool to learn about.”

“Ah,” Anna said. “Any one in particular?” She tried her best.

“I dunno. I’ve always been into The Great War.”

“That’s World War I, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Sounds like that’d be a good one.” Anna cringed. Her whole body tensed. She hoped he didn’t notice. This conversation felt awkward. She needed to change the subject. “And you play baseball? Any other sports?”

“Nah,” he said as he squeezed her shoulder. “You had that track meet last weekend, right?”

“Yeah. I did. All day Saturday,” she explained, leaning in closer to him. “I did the pole vault, triple jump, and a relay.”

“That sounds pretty fly.”

“Mmhmm. I guess. But…” Anna sighed. “I kinda wish I hadn’t gone. It was, like, the whole day and I came home to a message from Elsa, so. I don’t know. Maybe I’m not meant for track.”

“What’d Elsa have to say?”

“Not too much, really. It was a short message…” Anna’s voice got a little lower. “But she said she’s pretty nervous because she’s meant to hear from colleges soon.”

“Ah,” Hans said. “Well, I wish her luck.”

“Me, too.”

Anna sighed. Sustained silence fell between them for a short while. And Anna couldn’t help but realize… maybe this was her window of opportunity.

“Um… Hans?

“Wazup?”

“What… are we?”

“What do you mean what are we?”

“Oh, duh. Yeah. Well, it’s not—I don’t mean like—what are we—like humans or whatever. It’s not… deep like that,” Anna winced at her futile attempts to explain her nervous thoughts. “I just mean… what are we? You know—in our… relationship or friendship or whatever it is.”

“Oh.”

“You get it? Does that make sense? I can try explaining it again if it doesn’t…”

“I get it.”

“Okay,” she exhaled. Then inhaled. She bit her lip again. For probably the 50th time that night. “So then… what are we?”

“We’re us.”

“Right. And what is us?”

“We’re having fun. Aren’t we? Didn’t you have hella fun watching Vegas Vacation?

Anna’s cheeks flushed red. “We didn’t watch—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. But didn’t you have a blast, anyway? Aren’t you having fun right now?”

“Of course I am, I just meant—”

“That’s all we’re doing, babe. We’re having fun.”

“So we’re… so you’re not my—we’re not boyfriend and girlfriend is what you’re saying?”

“We’re having fun.”

Anna could feel her heartbeat quickening. Her stomach couldn’t drop any lower than it already had.

Now they were confirmed just friends. Even though she wanted this date at Five Crowns to mark the start of something a bit more serious…

But maybe…

Maybe they didn’t need labels to be serious. Maybe they were already serious.

Thinking of this, Anna stared into his green eyes, catching some swirls of what she hoped was sincerity hidden within. “You love me though, don’t you?”

“Of course I love you, babe. I’ve loved you since the day I met you.”

She smiled now, snuggling into him further, content. It didn’t matter what they were, it didn’t matter what they called themselves. They had each other. They had snuggles and smooches and smiles and now a real, legit, super-fun date and they loved each other since the very second they laid eyes on each other.

Take that, Kristoff. Mr. Grumpy-Doesn’t-Believe-in-Love-At-First-Sight man. You lost today, sucker.

She planted a gentle kiss on his lips, a kiss that deepened, continuing until their orders of Filet Mignon were placed gingerly in front of them.

Without the constant pressure of the impending scary and mature conversation, Anna gobbled up her food with ease, quickly, in fact—because she was starting to look more and more forward to the after-date than the date itself.

So much so that she considered skipping out on the chocolate soufflé entirely. And chocolate was her favorite thing in the world. Period.

Once the chocolate soufflés arrived, though, she realized that would’ve been a grave error. No way no how.

Naturally she inhaled the chocolate soufflé. In a way that left Hans laughing and laughing, trying as hard as he could to wipe the chocolate off of her mouth and her shoulders and her dress… and also the walls and some areas of the booth… safe to say, Anna had made quite the mess.

And with him touching her and laughing with her, Anna became giddy. When Hans paid with his Visa platinum and signed the check, taking Anna’s hand again and helping her out of the booth, Anna’s giddiness turned ecstatic.

He thought she was funny. He laughed at her jokes. He laughed at her antics. He helped clean up her mess.

And they had a good conversation about school and a really informative conversation about their relationship. And they loved each other, of course. That was important, too.

Still overjoyed, Anna sat again in Hans’s black Mercedes. Hans drove to one of the Crystal Cove beach parking lots. They parked the car.

The entire area was dark. Nobody was there. Not a car. Not a soul. Not even a seagull.

Anna knew where this was going.

Her heart beat quickly for a new and exciting reason.

Their lips touched with sparks of electricity; a fervent move that sent them shimmying into the backseat of the car.

Anna was no stranger to the black leather seats. She was no stranger to this position.

She’d moved quickly with him. She recognized that. But hearing a chorus of Hans’s delectable I love yous made fireworks ignite within her soul. And so, it didn’t seem quick at all. It seemed just about right. Perfect. If they loved each other on the first night, then everything naturally had to follow at lightning speed to match.

Right?

“Hey, babe?” Hans whispered in her ear, so close that it tickled her a bit and she giggled.

“Yeah?”

“Can we do it?”

She giggled again. “I mean—sure. Yeah. When were you—”

“Tonight,” he said. “Now.”

“Oh.” Anna was out of her element again. Yes, she liked moving quickly. Yes, she liked everything else they’d done, but… this? Tonight?

She didn’t think she was ready. She didn’t feel ready. Did anybody ever feel ready? Did it matter?

It was then that she realized Arendelle Academy had failed her. The school had failed them, more like. She had the period talk in the fifth grade. But since then… all she had to do was some dumb assignment about chlamydia in the Human Development class she took last semester.

That wasn’t enough. Clearly.

And here she was—terrified.

Because, sure, she knew what it meant to do it. But only because of a healthy mix of Sex and the City (Anna knew she was a Carrie), Friends, and Anna Karenina. As a curious middle schooler, Anna learned more than she’d like to admit from Anna Karenina’s spicy affair with Vronksy.

But that suddenly felt all… abstract.

It was like she knew nothing. Nothing at all. In the backseat of Hans’s car, she was about to flunk out of doing it class.

The only shred of information that remained in her brain was her vision. Her perfect, wonderful vision of how she both imagined and desired it to happen.

She pictured herself sixteen or seventeen… on her birthday. One of her favorite days of the year. After some kind of wonderful birthday surprise party all planned perfectly by her boyfriend, the two of them would dash off to a swanky hotel, and when they would get to their wonderful suite, there would be rose petals scattered around the bed. They’d have bottles of some fancy champagne… oh—and some chocolate covered strawberries, of course.

But most importantly—boyfriend. She’d said boyfriend. Obviously. Because she imagined it happening with the boyfriend she loved with all of her heart.

That was just for it, though. The Big It.

For any of the other stuff—stuff they’d already done—she never had the same kind of perfect vision. So, it was easy enough to just… full steam ahead do all of it.

But not this it. Not the Big It.

So many parts of her vision were missing. She needed it to be special. She needed it to feel like the most intimate expression of love for another person possible.

Because…well—that’s exactly what it was to her.

So she couldn’t do it tonight. Not like this. But at the same time, she didn’t want to let him down.

She didn’t want to lose him…

“I don’t know,” was all she said.

“Well, why not? We’ve done everything else. What’s the difference?”

“I want it… to be special. And I’m only—I’m, like, young. Isn’t that bad?”

“No.”

But this didn’t comfort her very much. Because she was young.

Elsa would say that she was too young.

“You don’t think it’s bad? That I’m…” Anna gulped. She worried saying the word fourteen out loud would make him see her as immature and naïve. “You don’t think I’m gonna be bad?”

“No.” He kissed her, then, romantically. Anna relaxed a bit into the kiss. “You’re gonna be great.”

“Have you ever… um—have you done it before?”

“A couple times.”

She’d figured as much, and it made her nervous. Really, really nervous. In her vision of how this should play out, it was her first time and it was her loving, doting, wonderful boyfriend’s first time, too. There were no expectations. There were no comparisons.

Her mind flashed to Kristoff, eyes crinkled and mouth wide in that wonderful smile of his.

No. Don’t do that. Don’t do that, Anna.

She needed to shake herself clear of those thoughts. Of that visual…of that desire, maybe. If that’s what it was.

No. No. It was about Hans tonight. HansHansHans. His hotute nose and his beautiful green eyes.

She loved Hans. She wanted Hans in this way, yes. She did.

It was just…

“I think I want it to be special,” Anna said, her voice small.

“This is special, babe. Just you and me here in my car… loving each other.”

“No, no, no. I mean special special. Like… really romantic special. On a really big event or a really big milestone or something. I want it to mean a lot. And I’m not saying that I don’t want to do it with you because I really, really do want to—like…I want to, and my body wants to and… I just think I need to wait um… a little bit.”

“Okay,” Hans said, sighing. “We can wait.”

Anna’s heart soared. Now she just needed a new vision of how she wanted it to go down. She figured he wouldn’t want to wait that long and really neither did she. If she really wanted him to be her boyfriend and not her friend-with-benefits then she needed to double down. She couldn’t keep him waiting for too long.

But if she were worried about being too young… and if she were worried about what Elsa would say, and she wanted it to happen on her birthday, ideally. Then… she should just say it.

“My birthday.”

“What about it?”

“My birthday. We can do it on my birthday, okay? That’s… three months away,” Anna explained. In three months, she’d be fifteen. And fifteen seemed old enough.

Right?

Right. Fifteen felt right. Her birthday felt right. Elsa had to understand. And maybe Elsa would even be proud that she waited those three months instead of diving right in.

Shit did Anna want her sister to be proud of her.

She continued, “I know it’s awhile, but. It’s an important day and we can be together, and I think… I think that’s perfect. I think then it’ll be really special.”

And then… when it happened, she just knew he’d decide he wanted to be her boyfriend for real.  

Hans nodded. “Okay. Deal. June 21st, right?”

And her heart leapt at the sheer fact that he remembered.

They made out some more. They got close, really close, to doing what he wanted, but they didn’t. He respected her wishes.

He respected her.

And when Hans dropped her off at home that night, Anna knew what she needed to do. It was late. Again. She always called Elsa so late. It was self-sabotage, really. Elsa’s world operated three hours later than Anna’s…

But she picked up the phone and dialed her sister’s number anyway.

Nothing but ring ring ring ring times infinity and then that condescending beep. Another beep… another message destined to be unanswered but not unheard.

Anna still couldn’t believe that stupid track meet had kept her away from Elsa’s once-in-a-blue-moon phone call.

“Um—Els. Hey. It’s me again. Your sister. Anna…” Anna shook her head. Elsa would recognize her voice. Duh. Anna always had to make everything so awkward. No wonder Elsa hardly ever called her back. “Um, anyway. I, uh—I’m so sorry I keep calling and I’m so sorry I keep leaving all these messages and I’m, like, the most sorry I missed your call Saturday—I wish I’d been home. I…I can’t even tell you how much I wish I’d been home…” She balled up her hands into tight fists and squeezed, hard, trying to keep a lid on all of her emotions. “It’s just—I really, really miss you and I have…” Anna knew what she wanted to tell Elsa, but she didn’t know quite how to frame it. She tried to squeeze her fists harder. “I, um—I did something. And I think…” But she couldn’t help it—her emotions had no lid. Tears spilled down her cheeks and she took a deep breath in a futile attempt to hide the trembling within her voice. “I think you’ll be really proud of me.”

[gaymortagokat]

Sleepover at Camp Jupiter

Read the whole collection here

Reyna's place was quiet. Aurum and Argentum laid in front of the couch curled up together. While their owner sat on the couch reading The Great Gatsby while her girlfriend sat on her lap. A pastel blanket laid over them. It was an addition from Drew. Since her and Reyna began dating Drew would add or recommend things to make Reyna's place more homey. 

They've been together for a little over a year now. Drew graduated  from high school a week ago and will be attending UC Berkeley to study psychology and art. Reyna noticed how great Drew is at helping people believe in themselves and suggested she do something with that. And Drew ran with that idea deciding to become an art therapist, though she isn't sure if she wants to specialize in child psychology and development yet. 

Drew pointed at a line of text. "Remember this, Reyna."

"Why? It's just a billboard?"

Drew turned to look at her girlfriend. "It's important if it was written in here. And it's a symbol of something mortals can't see. The eyes are judgmental like Hera."

Reyna nodded. "Juno isn't all that bad. What do you mean it's a symbol of something mortals can't see?"

"It's kind of like love. You can't physically see it. You can see it in things but you can't see it in things."

"Unless you've met Venus."

"Hmm. I guess so. But speaking of Venus she's a god. We can't see her true form just like mortals can't see the person in the billboard."

"So the billboard is a god judging American's."

"Capital 'g', Reyna. Fitzgerald is probably talking about the Christian god."

"And this Christian god doesn't like what Americans are doing."

"Yes that's what many readers believe."

"Does everything in this book have dual meanings?"

"No. I've found that only things that show up throughout or are highly detailed compared to others are symbols. Like if a detail is emphasized."

"So is the car a symbol?"

"Not sure. I know the billboard is because a teacher told me it was. Let's continue reading." 

Reyna nodded and looked back at the book. 

They continued reading occasionally pausing for discussion. Drew was the one who began these reading sessions. Reyna loved reading. It was how she grasped a better understanding of English. She has a high reading level despite reading mostly comic books. Because of this Drew decided to introduce Reyna to some classics and had created at least a page long list of literature she added to every few weeks. 

They started with names Reyna knew like Plato and Homer. They read The Allegory of the Cave and pieces of The Odyssey where Reyna told her Circe no longer turns men into pigs but animals occasionally less smelly and easier to manage, Guinea pigs. She Also told her that Percy made a very cute Guinea pig. Drew wished Reyna had the opportunity to take a picture.

A knock on the door interrupted their quiet weekend. Reyna's dogs ears perked up and their ruby eyes turned towards the door watching to see if the person behind the door was a threat.

A key slipped into the lock and Reyna groaned. "I should have never given her a key."

"Who?"

"Your sister."

"Pretend we didn't notice?"

"Of course." 

They returned to their book as the door opened. College aged Piper, Jason, Leo, Percy, and Annabeth walked in carrying bags for an impromptu sleepover (even though Percy and Annabeth live in New Rome and see Reyna nearly every day) with Nico.

"Why does Nick always describe Gatsby that way?"

"Cuz he's gay."

"Isn't the author straight?"

"Was anyone straight in the roaring 20's? When swing music existed and women wore more revealing clothing, smoked in public, cut their hair, and everyone lived in excess?"

Piper coughed.

Reyna looked up at her friends (except Leo he was still on thin ice). Percy looked like he just rolled out of bed sporting a five o' clock shadow while his girlfriend looked like she had been up for hours. Piper was as gorgeous as always wearing skinny jeans, a loose shirt, light sweater and vans. Jason looked like Annabeth, but he had done a better job at brushing his hair (his straight hair is easier to manage than Annabeth's curls), and much to Reyna's annoyance, Jason still had the rivet in his hair from the bullet Percy's brother fired at him. Jason had kept his hair trimmed like that for two years now. Reyna, Piper, Drew, and Nico were tempted to shave his hair while he slept. Nico wore the jacket Will gave him on their first Christmas together, and his mirrored sunglasses hung from the pocket. He had gotten a haircut. The sides of his hair did not touch his ears, but the top that he left long would in a few weeks. Leo looked exactly the same as he did two years ago with scorch marks on his fingers and arms and small bandages one a few of his fingers.

"Hey, what's up?"

"I wanna say that they made me come."

Reyna smiled at her little brother. 

"Oh come on Nico. It's not like we had to force you." Jason said putting his arm around the fifteen year old who now reached his eyes. 

"Friday night sleepover." Piper said. "We always have them."

"One, no we don't. It's more like twice a month. Two shouldn't most of you be at some college party? Three it's Wednesday."

"So we're a little early." She answered sitting on the only empty spot on the couch. 

"Percy and I did all our homework that's due tomorrow early." Annabeth added taking a seat at Piper's feet with Percy close behind. She petted Aurum behind the ear muttering something about them being a good dog.

Nico sat on the other side of Reyna's dogs while Jason and Leo sat in front of him. Well, Leo sat closer to Percy than Nico. Reyna's dogs weren't his biggest fans and had no problems making it obvious to him.

"What piece of literature do you have Reyna reading this time, Drew?" Jason asked, adjusting his glasses like they would help him see the page better.

"Gatsby. We're almost done with this page. Do you mind being quiet for a few more minutes." Drew didn't wait for an answer; she turned all her attention to the small book.

Leo struggled to stay quiet. He kept opening his mouth to say something then quickly close it. He distracted himself the best he could by planning out the most fun night ever. First some of the greatest movies ever paired with the best snacks and drinks. Did Reyna even have the best snacks?

Leo didn't stay on that thought long. As soon as he heard the book close he spoke. "Okay! What movie does everyone want to watch." He dug through his bag. "I've got 50 First Dates, The Nanny Diaries, Love Actually-"

"Leo, I love you. But I don't think anyone wants to watch romcoms."

"What do you have in mind, Pipes?"

"Horror, action, thriller."

"Horror sounds fun." Nico stated.

"As long as no one throws their popcorn on me I'm good." Drew added. 

"Reyna, got any horror movies?"

"The Sixth Sense, maybe Friday the 13th."

After a bit of arguing they settled on The Sixth Sense. The boys minus Nico prepared snacks. Nico and Annabeth made the hardwood floor more comfortable by adding a quilt Reyna had buried in a closet and laying out the blankets everyone brought. 

Snacks were finished and everyone ended up with their own container. Nico with popcorn and chocolate chips, Jason with popcorn and m&m's, Annabeth with popcorn and butter fingers, Percy with blue m&m's, Piper with sour gummy bears, and Reyna and Drew sharing Jelly Beans and sour straws. Drew had made Piper make sure Aurum and Argentum had a plate with a few dog treats and marshmallows, and Nico had tossed a blanket over them.

As the movie played Leo Jason Percy and occasionally Annabeth yelled at the characters on screen. Piper occasionally stated behind the scenes facts. 

During a particularly tense moment, Piper, realizing her hands were cold, poked her sister's foot that was barely out of the blanket making her yelp and Piper roar with laughter.

"Gods-damn it Piper!"

Piper waited a few minutes then did it again. Then a third time. 

"Piper." Reyna warned.

"Alright, alright." She scooted closer to the arm of the couch and waited. 

She looked over at Reyna and Drew. Drew was watching the movie one hand on the bowl of candy and the other on Reyna's, but Reyna on the other hand was watching Piper. She shook her head slowly with a slight glare. Drew, feeling Reyna move, looked up at Reyna then at Piper mimicking the Puerto Rican's glare.

Piper glared back then looked away pretending to barf. They were almost disgustingly cute.

A few minutes later she scared Drew again this time receiving a harsh kick.

"Ow! What was that for?" Piper yelped, rubbing her arm. 

"I didn't kick you that hard." 

"You totally did, Reyna."

Not even Reyna kicking her was enough to stop her. She tried one more time to scare Drew. This time she was unsuccessful.

"Hermanito." Reyna said. 

And suddenly Piper was freezing then she found herself on the floor. She looked at the couch where she was once sitting and found Nico curled up with the darkness partially swirling around him. Actually, the dark in the entire room seemed to be moving as if Nico was making the room appear as dark as it did when she was afraid of it.

Piper settled in her new spot petting the nearest dog. 

It was towards the end of the second movie when Drew tried scaring Piper. It worked only once. Piper nearly jumped out of her seat surprising Jason and Percy who were way more afraid of the movie than they let on.

Beginning of the third movie was when Reyna began to mess with Piper. She used a bit of magic she picked up from Circe and tried to make it feel like a spider was walking on her. It worked for a few moments then Piper figured it out and began ignoring the sensation. 

Reyna switched tactics. She poked Aurum with her foot who pressed their cold nose into Piper's side hitting her ticklish spot. 

Piper pressed her palm against the dog's nose and turned it's head away. "I know that was you, Reyna."

"I don't control their every move."

"Oh please. They would do whatever you asked."

Reyna opened her mouth to respond when Drew silenced her. "Ssshhhh. We're at the good part."

Reyna kissed her head and returned to watching the comedy. The older boys insisted on one happy movie to negate the scary before bed.

By the time the movie watching session ended Reyna was sitting between her girlfriend and her best friend/little brother. And both of them were nearly asleep on her shoulders.

"Nico, it's time for bed."

Nico nodded, sitting up and gathering his blanket. A second later he disappeared into the shadows and probably into Reyna's guest room / home office. 

"Nico gone?"

"Sí, Amor. It's time for bed." Reyna told her standing up. She offered Drew her hand.

Her girlfriend shook her head. "Too tired. Carry me?"

Reyna smiled while rolling her eyes. "Alright." She picked up Drew with ease (something that made Jason and especially Percy jealous) and walked to her room. Aurum and Argentum followed, nudging the door open as they got closer. 

Reyna set Drew down carefully. It wasn't the right moment to drop her on the bed. They were both too tired for the game that would begin if she did.

Reyna moved to the door and locked it. 

"What kind of pajamas do you want today?" She asked, grabbing her own.

"I'm good."

Reyna turned around and saw her gorgeous girlfriend sitting on her bed shirtless. Today had been a stay at home no bra necessary day. Reyna looked down briefly and felt her cheeks grow warm. She put her pajamas away and joined Drew on the bed. 

Drew kissed Reyna tugging on the edges of her shirt. “You don’t need this.”

Reyna let her pull her band tee (courtesy of Thalia) over her head. “What do you want to do?”

Drew ignored her and tugged at her shorts. “You don’t need these.”

Reyna slipped them off and tossed them aside. “What do you want to do?”

Drew rested against Reyna. “I’m too tired to want to do anything, but I’m too awake to sleep.”

Reyna turned off the lamp and rested her hand on Drew’s stomach. The pair laid down, and Reyna kissed Drew’s shoulder. “Thank you, for reading with me today.”

“No problem, Amore. I love reading. Especially with you.”

“What would you like to do tomorrow?”

“Walk on the beach?”

“Alright.” Reyna kissed Drew’s shoulder once more. “Want to go swimming?”

“Sounds nice.” Drew said quietly. “Hey, why did Annabeth say she and Percy had finished their homework early? Isn’t it summer?”

“It is. Annabeth convinced Percy to take a few summer classes so their schedule can be lighter during the year and they can graduate a bit early.”

“What is Percy studying again?”

“He started with Marine biology, but he realized it was going to be a lot of science. I think he’s doing physical therapy now and keeping Marine Biology as a minor.”

“Physical therapy?”

“Yeah. Annabeth showed him a video of a pool being used as part of someone’s therapy. He’s been interested ever since. That and he can heal using water.”

“I guess pool is not a bad thing to smell like.”

"Neither is the beach."

"Think we can leave everyone else out?"

"Maybe every one but Nico and Will."

"Will isn't here."

"For now. Nico will probably go get him to avoid being a third wheel."

"Double dates are fun."

"Glad you think so."

Reyna kissed Drew's shoulder blade and pulled her closer. She breathed in her scent noticing Drew's perfume and sweat. Reyna settled down more and closed her eyes and fell asleep. 

As soon as Drew trusted Reyna wouldn't wake up at the slightest movement she changed positions to face her gorgeous girlfriend. She also moved Reyna's arm so she wouldn't be laying on it. Reyna often let her sleep on her arm only to later wake up because the limb had become painfully asleep. Then she settled down draping an arm across Reyna's ribs. Her fingers traced an old injury. She didn't know the story behind the scar but trusted one day Reyna would tell her.

She spent the next few minutes trying to relax enough to fall asleep. She loved snuggling with her girlfriend, but said girl was always a furnace. Don't get her wrong, she felt incredibly lucky to have someone as amazing as Reyna. She would have never expected to be this happy a year ago, and yet here she was laying with the hottest girl ever. 

She adjusted the blanket so her feet would stick out and settled back down.

She was nearly asleep when a whimper startled her awake. She lifted her head and spotted the source. Two sets of glowing ruby eyes were watching her. "Come on." She whispered.

Given permission the two fully grown greyhounds jumped on the queen bed. The siblings spun around a several times (accidently hitting each other a few times) and plopped down laying on the teens' feet.

The cold metal was too cold for comfort; Drew pulled her feet out from under the dog and instead lowered the blanket uncovering her shoulders. Drew relaxed once more and fell asleep.

[shemakesmusic-uk]

Simpson is a Richmond-based singer and rapper who you may also know as Babe Simpson, one-fourth of the Tumblr-born rap collective Barf Troop. They dazed the internet back in the early 2010s with their uncensored, forward-thinking rhymes and aesthetics, and even got the attention of Drake. Though the collective has gone silent in recent years, Simpson has since cultivated her own steady following around her soft, and ruminative tunes. Her latest is 'Cherry Ice Cream Sundae,' a song about "treating ourselves with as much tenderness as we treat everyone else," she says, and is backed by a lush landscape of jazzy guitars and drums — a sound that could be considered a close sibling to the rap lullabies of Noname. Simpson's now sharing the song's peculiar video, which features a charming but eerie cast of marionette puppets. Over email, Simpson explains that she wrote the song after experiencing "a feeling that I’ve always been trying to put into words but I don’t think I was mature enough to be able to sing. I reached my breaking point where I was like, f*ck it, whatever happens, happens, and I’m gonna look on the bright side everywhere I can. I’m going to 'smile because I can.' I actually changed the original opening lyrics from 'The world is in the shitter' to 'Life is kind to who’s kind to it back.' The world has always been in the shitter, but that hasn’t made it any less special or sweet. I think that’s made me much more of a realist. I recorded it tipsy, upside down, hanging off my bed as a freestyle, and it felt so natural saying and listening to it back made me feel so proud." [via NYLON]

Earlier this week, Lana Del Rey revealed the artwork and tracklist for her new album Chemtrails Over The Country Club. Back in October, Del Rey shared the album’s lead single 'Let Me Love You Like A Woman.' It was the first song she shared from the album after postponing its planned September release. Now, she’s sharing the album’s second single and title track. She’s also announced that Chemtrails Over The Country Club will be out March 19. In a lengthy interview with BBC Radio 1 — during which she talked about the Trump insurrection and her album cover controversy — she mentioned that Jack Antonoff produced much of the album, minus 'Yosemite,' which was produced with Rick Nowels. Watch a music video for the album’s title track, directed by BRTHR, above. In a different kind of statement, prior to the release of the 'Chemtrails Over The Country Club' music video, Del Rey explained why she is wearing a cast in it: "When you see my second video for this album, don’t think that the fact I’m wearing a cast is symbolic for anything other than thinking I was still a pro figure skater. I wiped out on my beautiful skates before the video even began after a long day of figure eights and jumps in the twilight of the dezert. Anyways my fracture isn’t that bad kind of goes with my new bucket hat. Thanks to my beautiful family for my gifts." [via Stereogum]

Joining forces for the new uplifting track, G Flip and mxmtoon are sharing new empowerment anthem ‘Queen’, produced by Rostam Batmanglij. "'Queen' was written about the strong women around me, the queens that raised me and the queens I’ve met through my years,” G Flip explains. “My idea of a queen is not necessarily linked to gender; queens come in all forms and walks of life. To me a queen embodies power and strength; they embrace all they are fiercely yet gracefully. The song was written one sunny day in LA, I was chillin on Rostam’s lovely white couch and he turned around to me and said ‘how about we write a song about Queens’ and I replied with ‘F@!K yeah!’. I’m also super stoked to have mxmtoon on the track with me, she is an absolute queen. I first was introduced to her when I was trying to find ukulele chords to a Khalid song and found her cover on YouTube years ago. She makes awesome music and her voice has such a cruisy timbre to it so I was thrilled to have her jump on 'Queen' with me. She is also an avid croc lover and part of the LGBTQIA+ community, so obviously it just made sense!” mxmtoon adds, “So happy to be a part of ‘Queen’ with G! she and Rostam were such a joy to work with and so so much fun to collaborate with on creative as well. I’m so glad that it’s still possible to make art and music with someone even when they’re on the other side of the world, and I’m lucky that I got the opportunity to feature on G’s song. ‘Queen’ is a power anthem for any person, and I’m so excited for people to love it as much as we do!” [via DIY]

With her hotly-anticipated new album Magic Mirror out now, Pearl Charles gave us our latest teaser of what to expect earlier this week, sharing new glitzy bop ‘Only For Tonight’. “‘Only for Tonight’ tells the story of a currently bygone era of wild nights out on the town - the highs and lows of one night stands and the crashes of the morning after,” she explains. “The music video, directed by Bobbi Rich, leans into those excesses, paying a sparkly homage to the late-night musical television shows of the 70’s, from Soul Train to The Midnight Special, as well as the gauzy, Vaseline’d lens of ABBA’s music videos. With an added sprinkling of VHS special effects, you’re likely to feel like you’re watching a home-taped recording of a lost episode of Top of the Pops.” [via DIY]

Alt-pop trailblazer dodie has shared her new single 'Hate Myself' in full. Everything the songwriter touches seems to turn into melodic gold, with her debut album Build A Problem landing this Spring. Out on March 5, it's led by new single 'Hate Myself', which made its bow as Annie Mac's Hottest Record In The World. It's an apt title, with this instantly-viral moment offering an "inner monologue" that touches on some of dodie's inner-most feelings. The song depicts "someone who seems to find themselves in relationships of any kind with people who deal with their feelings internally - unfortunately resulting in assuming the issue is with them." dodie co-directed the video alongside Sammy Paul, shooting at the Cornish seaside village Polperro. The pair "excitedly landed on the silly idea of the training leading up to becoming a post-lady, and thoroughly enjoyed planning the many bizarre exercises she would have to perfect. Our excellent Art Director, Louis Grant, worked on bringing her home and training station to life. Though jogging on cliff tops in the rain, carrying a large sack and slipping in the mud was certainly cold and exhausting, I think I preferred it to slowly feeling sicker, licking stamps on a swaying boat by the Excel." [via Clash]

Berlin-based indie five-piece People Club are back with new single and video 'Francine', following on from their last release 'Lay Down Your Weapons', which focused on police brutality.  The new single 'Francine' tackles the topics of addiction and lovelessness. In the words of the band: "The song speaks from the voice of a lamenting partner whose lover (Francine) is helplessly addicted to drugs. Francine lost interest in her relationship with the narrator a long time ago. It's a song about commitment and how love can fade away leaving only wickedness behind."  Regarding the visuals, the band said "The 'Francine' video is a play on the old idiom of 'being your own worst enemy'. A phrase which quite beautifully captures the inner critic which we know so well, especially during the course of the pandemic - we've had to learn to each give ourselves a break. The video was shot in the depth of the harsh Berlin winter, in the depth of the pandemic." Director Felix Spitta added "I love the band and I love the different personalities. It is always heaps of fun working on creative output together. Riding through Berlin only with bikes and all the film equipment in the freezing cold almost felt like a masochistic idea from Saxon. It's inspiring to be surrounded by so many creative minds.”

Pale Waves are back with 'Easy', the third single to be shared from their highly-anticipated second album Who Am I?. Lead vocalist Heather Baron-Gracie describes the new track as "a song about how love can change your whole entire perspective on life itself. It’s saying ‘being in love with you is so easy, you finally make sense in my life because nothing did before'." The new single is accompanied by a James Slater-directed video that shows Baron-Gracie performing at a Tim Burton/medieval-style wedding in an abandoned church. Baron-Gracie adds, "I wore a wedding dress throughout and we shot the video in an old abandoned church. I’m really inspired by the gothic medieval aesthetic and at the time I was thinking of the video I was watching a lot of Tim Burton films whose creativity really inspires me." Pale Waves' second album will follow their 2018 debut LP My Mind Makes Noises. Baron-Gracie says of their upcoming album, "For me, music and art is for people not to feel so alone and isolated. I want to be that person my fans look up to and find comfort in." [via the Line Of Best Fit]

The official video for Zoe Wees’ new single, 'Girls Like Us,' is online now. Like the song, the clip sends a message of togetherness and solidarity to girls around the world who are feeling the pressures of society. Zoe Wees says, “It’s not always good to think about how you look to the rest of the world. It’s much more important to think about how you feel inside. It is not easy to call yourself beautiful but being confident helps you to accept and love yourself.” The 18-year-old Hamburg, Germany-based artist adds, “We’re walking through a world with blinded eyes. At the end of the day, we all go to bed without make-up with the ugliest clothes and wake up with the messiest hair on earth.”

Julien Baker has shared a new taste of her forthcoming album Little Oblivions by way of a new single ‘Hardline’. Julien says, “A few years ago I started collecting travel ephemera again with a loose idea of making a piece of art with it. I had been touring pretty consistently since 2015 and had been traveling so much that items like plane tickets and hotel keycards didn't have much novelty anymore. So I saved all my travel stuff and made a little collage of a house and a van out of it. I wanted to incorporate it into the record and when we were brainstorming ideas for videos we came across Joe Baughman and really liked his work so we reached out with the idea of making a stop-motion video that had similar aesthetic qualities as the house I built did. I don't know why I have the impulse to write songs or make tiny sculptures out of plane tickets. But here it is anyway: a bunch of things I've collected and carried with me that I've re-organized into a new shape.” The video for ‘Hardline’ was directed by Joe Baughman, who notes: “Man, even after having spent 600 hours immersed in ‘Hardline’ and having listened to it thousands of times, I am still moved by it. It was a fun and ambitious challenge creating something that could accompany such a compelling song. The style of the set design, inspired by a sculpture that Julien created, was especially fun to work in. I loved sifting through magazines, maps, and newspapers from the 60s and 70s and finding the right colors, shapes, and quotes to cover almost every surface in the video.”

Teenage Joans are staying true to their world and unveiling 'Something About Being Sixteen', a new single that's sure to cement their 2021 as victorious. It's the perfect successor to 'Three Leaf Clover' and a track that makes it two-for-two for Teenage Joans, further capturing the excitement and energy within Cahli and Tahlia as they trade catchy riffs and thriving choruses with the combo of light-heartedness and intimateness that seems to define Teenage Joans' work, and how they're able to look in at themselves (and out at the world around them) through a lens that keeps it fun and digestable. "'Something About Being Sixteen' is undoubtedly Teenage Joans' great take on the classic coming of age rock tune, generally closing our live sets with audiences singing along every time without fail," the duo say on the single. [via Pilerats]

Kate Hollowell took a risk going by the moniker Number One Popstar when she released her debut single 'Psycho.' However, Hollowell didn’t mind if that choice set her up for failure or not. She goes with the flow. Luckily, that mentality has advanced her even farther. Now, Number One Popstar releases her second single, 'I Hate Running.' New Year’s resolutions are, most of the times, created for the wrong reasons. It’s also no surprise that majority of people’s goals center around exercising and weight loss. 'I Hate Running', however, challenges that mindset, satirizing the toxic nature of exercise industry and diet culture. Hollowell said herself, “The song explores facing the hard, emotional work instead of the physical.  I really don’t enjoy running, and I wanted to troll the exercise industry and write an anti-motivational song.” In terms of sound, 'I Hate Running' shares similar vibes to her first single with its classic 80s pop of saturated synths. But, this time, there’s a hint of disco with the zealous psychedelic guitar and electric drums and keys. The interludes consist of a symbolic, robotic, and almost sinister snippet from a workout instructor. It all complements well with Hollowell’s escapist lyrics. Even though the lyrics say otherwise, the track’s sound might just spark that motivation to workout or dance, doing mindful movement that makes us feel good. Exercise should never feel like a punishment, and Number One Popstar is here to remind us. She makes us want to stick it to the exercise industry, proving to it that we will only work out for the right reasons. [via Earmilk]

Alt-pop riser Chloe Rodgers has shared her new video 'The Algea' in full. The Nottingham based talent sparkled in 2020 in spite of the pervasive gloom, releasing two startling singles. Her third release could be her best yet, with 'The Algea' hitting streaming services just before Christmas. The video captures those mid-winter chills, while providing a platform for Chloe to express herself. Constructed alongside creative director Kate Lomas, it was shot at Newstead Abbey in Nottingham. Chloe comments... "I wanted to use a music box in the video to represent being objectified and getting stuck in the same cycles, as that’s largely what the song is about. I wrote the song when I was 18, but didn’t add the verse at the end about claiming my power back until a couple of years later when I felt a bit stronger. We tried to reflect this in the video too with the Chloe in white sort of protecting the other Chloe of the past." Kate Lomas adds: "This was such a joy to watch come together, the video concept is based around the idea that Chloe is the character in a music box, she’s the performer that’s spinning round on an endless cycle for other people’s entertainment. The video tells the tale of Chloe definitely breaking this cycle and no longer playing this role." [via Clash]

Jaguar Jonze has announced her ANTIHERO EP will be released on April 16 via Nettwerk Records. With the EP announcement, Deena shares the official music video for her latest single, 'ASTRONAUT,' the follow-up to two previously released videos for 'DEADALIVE' and 'MURDER'. Each of the five music videos for the forthcoming ANTIHERO EP will come together through bold-palette videos that transform into an antihero character “in a cyberpunk, anime, futuristic, graphic, almost sci-fi world,” says Deena. Deena adds, “as ‘ASTRONAUT’ delves into my anxiety, I wanted the film to reflect that in a simple way that helped portray how my anxiety can sometimes manifest - a contradiction between feeling lost in vast spaces and trapped in claustrophobic spaces. I had a specific idea in mind, which meant that I had to undergo stunt training with professionals and learn how to maneuver in a wire harness. Most of the video had to be shot in a single take because of the stunts' nature in safety preparation, time consumption, and impact on the body. I'm still recovering from the bruises, but it was all worth it, and the team was amazing in pulling it all together. I'm proud of this one as it is 3 minutes of my rawest vulnerability, visually interpreted. I'm also finally ready to share it.” 'ASTRONAUT' is the sound of Deena liberating herself from a lifelong battle with anxiety.  “It is a human trait. It’s how we survive in the wild,” she says. “We’re all wired as humans to be quite anxious.  As females more so, because we’re more susceptible to danger.”

Rising star Mulay shares the smoking visuals for her new single, ‘Antracyte’. It’s the culminating release in a three-part video series from the Berlin-based alternative R&B singer-songwriter/producer/artist, ahead of her highly anticipated EP, which comes out at the end of the month via Groenland Records. Mulay explains about the single, “'ANTRACYTE' is the intro and title track to my debut EP. It’s the soundtrack to the birth of a villain and captures the moment of complete honesty to yourself about the awareness of doing wrong by the ones you love while feeling the inability to turn around. It’s about the desire to taste forbidden fruits, to cross and explore what lies beyond the line and the self-empowering feeling of playing by your own rules defeating the fear of consequences and the power of moral concepts. 'ANTRACYTE' tells a story of contradicting emotions, a story of love, lust, pain and a longing for more. It’s about facing your own darkness and sins, about self-revelation, emancipation and about paying its price, resigning to your fate.”

Only a band like shallow pools could make a blast of 'ice water' sound refreshing and necessary in the dead of New England winter. But the Massachusetts indie-pop group is usually pushing against the current of what we’d normally expect, and now the quartet hits us with a dose of cold reality through their new single and video. 'ice water' is a vivid new single that confronts the mental health struggles brought on by quarantine and isolation, and even the shallow pools aesthetic has reflected this by shifting from bright glowing neons to a more subdued color palette of beiges and browns. Call it a sign of the times, and call 'ice water' the sound of now; upbeat and jovial on the surface, a comet of pop smarts and hooks, but with the darker shine that resides in our lives when we’re positioned away from the screens and digital scenes. As Glynnis Brennan sings “Every day’s the same and / There’s no breaking out / Like I’m stuck here / Going through the motions now” well, we feel that. shallow pools describe “ice water” as “a departure from the music we’ve made in the past, but it’s the perfect bridge between our old and new sound.” That is certainly the case, and 'ice water' continues to showcase the group as one of New England’s sharpest, following a string of 2020 singles that included pop standouts like 'Haunted' and 'Afterlight'. “We wrote the song with our friend and producer, Chris Curran, and learned a lot about the type of music we want to be making in the process,” the band adds. “The song is about the impact that the state of the world has had on our mental health, specifically in the last year. We’re excited to share it and hope that anyone who has had similar experiences will find some comfort in knowing that there are others who can relate.” [via Vanyaland]

[kairi-chan]

I Got You (XXXIII) - BoruSara

Title: Tickled Pink

Genre: Fluffy fluff fluff! 

Rating: T 

Beta-read and art by: @sandpancakecat ! 

A/N: This chapter is 6,049 words! It took me days to finish, and I feel so accomplished for finishing it. I hope you enjoy. ❤️

“It doesn’t work that way, you idiot!” 

“Oh, come on, Sarada!” Boruto leaned back in his chair and huffed. “How can you be so sure?” 

She lifted her textbook from the table and pointed at it. “It says so right here.” 

The blond rolled his eyes and continued to argue.

Mitsuki and Wasabi watched on. Mitsuki was happily sipping on his juice box, while Wasabi scribbled away on her notebook. 

“Are they going to give it a rest?” She muttered. 

He sipped some more, eyes shining. “I’ll give it a few more minutes. This is so much fun.” 

She looked up from her notes and raised a brow. “You’re enjoying all this sexual tension, aren’t you?"

He nodded enthusiastically. “Just like old times.” And really, it was. The two were back to arguing at any opportunity they got, hanging out with everyone again, but there was also something… different. Inojin once commented over lunch that all the sexual tension coming from the two of them was enough to make him barf. To which, Boruto and Sarada hastily denied that there was any, of course. 

Just like old times but… with sexual tension, apparently. 

Mitsuki would have shrugged all of these off, as he felt like things have finally regressed to the mean, however, things have gotten awkward as Sarada would avoid Kagura like the plague, and Boruto would walk the other way if he saw the Senior anywhere close. Mitsuki thought it strange, as Kagura would greet him like he always did, and he would return the greeting. Neither Boruto nor Sarada wanted to speak up about their… peculiar behavior. 

Other than that, everything was normal. That is until Boruto came to campus after one weekend wearing a new article of clothing. 

“Dude!” Iwabe gaped. “Why are you in pink?” His face twisted. Boruto only lifted a brow and placed the drink carrier on the table. “What are you talking about? I always wear pink.” He pulled one cup out and placed it in front of Sarada, who took it, and said her thanks, but did not look up at him. 

Inojin and Chocho walked over, both of them had a finger on their chin and inspected the long-sleeved sweater. The latter lightly stroked the fabric. “Not cashmere this time?” 

Boruto shrugged. “Hima-chan got it for me. And I think the color and fit suits, don’t you?” 

The two agreed, and Shikadai complimented the color in his own dry way. “Makes you look like a Barbie doll.”

“I like this hot pink color,” Chocho snapped a shot of it on her phone. 

Inojin snorted. “It’s magenta, Chubbs. Get your color right.” 

The two began to argue and Iwabe muttered, “Isn’t it just… pink?” 

Finally, Sarada looked up, curious what all the fuss was about and her heart stopped. Boruto was holding on to his cup of coffee, taking occasional sips as he watched his friends argue about what color his sweater was. He wore a white collared shirt underneath and held his books in his other hand. Once his blue eyes met Sarada’s, he placed the cup down and grinned. Her heart dropped to her stomach and she looked away, trying to hide the rosy blush on her cheeks.  

Boruto toed around the still arguing artists and sat next to her. She immediately picked up her coffee and drank, avoiding eye contact yet again. But he sat so close… close enough for his arm to brush against hers and she felt the fabric of his sweater on her skin and she nearly spat her coffee out. 

It was soft… and warm. And that smell… he was wearing cologne today. 

“Not feeling cold yet, Sarada?” Boruto grinned. “Fall is really kicking in, don’t ya think? I expected to see you in a turtleneck already.” 

She rolled her eyes and placed her cup down. “Very funny. I brought a jacket today.” 

Boruto peered at the red coat that hung at the back of her chair and blinked. She snuck a peek at him and that obscenely adorable sweater. Trust Himawari to choose the cutest ones she could find. The color went well with Boruto’s slight tan, and Shikadai was right. Paired with his blue eyes and blond hair, it did make him look like a Barbie doll… in the best possible way. Because fuck he looked so attractive. Illegal. It has to be illegal to look this good. 

Pink was always his color, and he carried it confidently. 

Iwabe teased Boruto, pulling Sarada out of her daze and subtly wiping the drool off her lips. “Nice sweater, boo.”  

Boruto put his coffee down and grinned at Iwabe, who was wearing a colorful-bomber-jacket thing. “I like your outfit, too. Except when I dress up like a douchebag, I try not to make it look like I’m trying too hard.” 

Shikadai snickered, and Sarada chuckled. 

Iwabe grunted and muttered unintelligible things about their blond friend. Boruto took a sip of his coffee. Sarada sneaked a look at him. He looked at her. She hastily looked away, and then pretended to be absorbed in her reading. Boruto grinned and rested his cheek on his hand as he watched her pretend to study. Heat rose to her cheeks. 

“Having trouble with that, Sarada?” He asked cheekily. 

“No,” Sarada replied harshly. 

He was unfazed. His grin only grew. “Oh really? Then you wouldn’t mind explaining the chapter to me, right? Inheritance laws are always pretty tricky, ya know?” 

She pursed her lips and looked at him, her eyes instantly drawn to the pink sweater, making her look at his neck and shoulders. 

“Like my sweater?” Boruto teased. 

“No.” Wow, real harsh, Sarada. 

“You sure?” He lifted his brow and sang out, “It’s reallyyyy comfyyyy.” 

Keep it together. She had to keep it together. Sarada ground her teeth and seethed, “Go away, Boruto.” 

He placed a hand on his heart, pretending to be struck by an arrow. “You’re killing me here!” He sighed dramatically before bursting out into laughter. 

Sarada grumbled and packed her things, making a hasty escape from the table. Boruto tried calling out for her, but the bell rang and it was time for class. Saying that she sped walked is an understatement. As soon as she reached her classroom, she placed her belongings down on the desk and sat down, taking a deep breath to steady herself.

That sweater… did look comfy. It also made Boruto look… attractive. 

The last thought made her jump. It’s not that it was surprising. She always found him attractive in his own idiotic yet charming way. That smile and his golden hair and those blue, blue eyes. 

Students starting filling in the seats and she wiped the corner of her lip. No drool. Good job. Shouldn’t be wiping for drool in the first place but why did he have to look so good? In pink, no less. Ever since they patched things up, things went back to normal for them but there really was something different between the two. The smallest of things could send her heart racing. Like whenever he would get her coffee, or whenever their fingers would brush. 

There was no more denying it. Since she became aware of her feelings for him, things were a little brighter, flowers smelled better, even fall felt a little fresher. Heat rose to her face. 

“Sarada!” 

Her blush deepened. 

“Sarada, hey!” Boruto stopped at her desk and took a big gulp of air. Did he run all the way here? “I’m—I’m sorry!” He gasped between words, still catching his breath. “You stormed off, I didn’t mean to upset you. I was just playing around, ya know?” 

Her lips parted. “Boruto…” 

“Mr. Uzumaki,” the professor chided him. “Sit down. You’re sticking out like a sore thumb!” 

Boruto looked around, the entire class was already seated. The only vacant one left was the one in front of Sarada. “Oh, shit,” he muttered. “Sorry, sir.” He took the empty seat and opened up his notebook. 

Sarada released the breath she didn’t realize she was holding. The professor started droning on about labor laws and Sarada opened her notebook to begin taking notes. A folded piece of paper landed on the open page and she looked ahead. Boruto was looking at her but hastily faced forward as soon as their eyes met. She pouted and opened the note. 

I’m sorry if I upset you :( 

Dinner later so I can grovel more? 

She snickered, making him slightly turn around to peek at her. Her eyes softened and nodded. A bright grin spread across his face and he gave her a thumbs-up before facing forward again. Once again, she could only see pink. 

...

Dinner with Boruto was always a lively affair. To her surprise, they were far away from Thunder Burger. He kept chatting during the drive about how good the fusion sushi rolls were in this chic little restaurant, pumping her up for the truffle steak that they offered, as well. 

He was still wearing the pink sweater, but he had changed the shirt he wore under it. The sun was starting to set by the time they got to the restaurant and Sarada opted to leave her coat in the car. 

“You sure about that?” Boruto eyed the red frock that she tossed in his backseat. “Heard it was going to get cold later.” 

She shrugged a shoulder up. “We’ll be indoors, it’s fine.” Sure she would. The fact that she knew Boruto would offer his sweater to her if she got cold has absolutely nothing to do with it. Sarada eyed him, and her gaze drifted all over his sweater, hugging his well-toned body. She took a deep breath and bit her lip. Why did he have to look so attractive in pink? 

The two of them walked into the restaurant side by side, Boruto exchanged a few words with the lady upfront to confirm his reservation before she ushered them to their seats. Trust Boruto to always choose a booth table. The whole place could probably only accommodate up to fifteen tables. It was small, but it did have character. There were fishnets hanging on the ceiling, and fake salmon and tuna on crates around the walls, along with graffiti prices for the daily catch. Sarada’s eyes looked around, appreciating the decor. 

Boruto rested his elbows on the table and leaned into one of his hands. “Like the place?” A small smile on his face. 

She grinned. “Yeah, it’s cute. I haven't even heard about this place.” 

His smile widened. “I hope you like the food as much as the ambiance.” 

A server came by and handed each of them a menu, recommending their best sellers, as well as the newly added dishes. Boruto already had a few rolls and others to order, all of which sounded good to her. She ordered an iced tea, and so did Boruto. It was the first to arrive, and she drank nearly half without even thinking about it, as she was too absorbed with looking at Boruto as he told her about his family’s upcoming Christmas plans. 

“Christmas?” She straightened up, and a cold shiver ran down her spine. Whoops. Maybe she shouldn’t have drunk something cold on an empty stomach. “It isn’t even Halloween yet!” 

Boruto snickered. “Yeah but come on, it’s Christmas!” His blue eyes glittered and Sarada couldn’t help but grin. It was Boruto’s favorite time of the year, after all. “But yeah, Halloween is coming up. The weather is really starting to change and it’s been getting a lot cooler lately.” 

Another shiver down her spine, this time, Boruto noticed. “You cold?” 

“No, I’m fine.” She bit her tongue. It was just iced tea. With the food coming, she’ll warm up in no time. 

He raised a brow and pulled on his sweater. “Wanna borrow my sweater?” 

Yes! “No.” 

Before he could retort, the food was placed before them. Her eyes widened at the selection. There were rolls with various toppings, tuna and salmon sashimi, and the familiar smell of… “Is this truffle?” She pointed at the steak. 

A smug smile painted itself on his lips. “You bet.” 

Her eyes sparkled with excitement. She loved truffle anything, and anyone who has spent enough time eating with her would know. She took a pair of chopsticks and held it up, looking for her first morsel to taste. 

There was a click of a camera and she looked up. Boruto took a photo of her, a wide grin on his face and showed her the photo. It was a boomerang of her moving her chopsticks around as she looked at the food before her. She rolled her eyes but smiled. “Really? What is it with everyone taking photos of me?” 

Boruto grinned. “Can’t blame us for wanting to have a photo of the prettiest girl on earth.” 

Suddenly, it wasn’t so cold anymore and her tummy did a backflip. She was sure that wasn’t a telltale sign of hunger but rather… something else. Gosh, everything Boruto did just made her fall for him even more. 

“I mean, right after Auntie Sakura, that is.”

Nevermind. She took it back. She pointed her chopsticks at him. “You don’t stand a chance with my mama! Get over it!” She puffed her cheeks, picked up a tuna roll and opened her mouth. 

He laughed and held on to his own chopsticks, and picked up a salmon roll. “Yeah, I know. But I sure hope I do with you.” 

She dropped her roll. “What?” 

Boruto placed the roll in his mouth and shrugged a shoulder up, pretending he didn’t say a thing, leaving her to gape like a fish until he swallowed his roll and wiped his mouth. “You should really start eating, Sarada.” 

Well played. 

Everything was delicious. The sashimi was fresh, the rolls were unique, and that steak was to die for. However, she still couldn’t stop looking at Boruto and that obscenely pink and comfortable looking sweater. The meal warmed her up, but she still wanted to try it on. Once all the food was gone, she went back to sipping on her iced tea. Freshly refilled, and this time, had more ice. She shivered. 

“I swear, Sarada,” Boruto placed his chopsticks down and removed his sweater.

Her eyes widened as the white shirt underneath rode up, exposing part of his stomach. She quickly recovered once his face was in full view again, making it look like she was totally not staring at his abs. Absolutely not! 

He handed her the pink sweater over the table. “Just put it on already. I don’t like seeing you be cold.” 

Finally! She pursed her lips. “I said I’m fine!” Oh for fuck’s sake. 

Boruto rolled his eyes and shoved it closer to her. “Come on, it’s clean, I swear. I just wore it yesterday and today.” 

That means it’ll smell like you, and I want that scent on me. But no, Sarada didn’t take it. Boruto stopped insisting when his phone started ringing. He pulled his phone out to check and stood up. “Oh, shit. It’s mom. Hold on for a bit, will ya?” Boruto placed the sweater on the side of the table and stood up to go someplace quiet. 

Hence, a staring contest with the sweater ensued. 

Pros and cons, Sarada. Think of the pros and cons. Pros are, it looked comfortable, it would smell like Boruto, and that color would make her look even cuter. Cons? Nothing. Absolutely nothing except maybe swallowing her pride that she did like the sweater and did want to try it on, but she would ultimately be admitting that she liked Boruto because it was his and she wanted it. 

She chewed on her lower lip and looked around. She found Boruto near the washroom, still in the call. Her eyes drifted back to the sweater. 

Don’t. Have some self respe—too late. Sarada was already holding on to the sweater, feeling it in her hands. The material was so soft, and there was a light fuzzy texture to it, too. It was still warm… Pulling it closer to her face, she took a quick breath in and found herself smiling. It was clean, it smelled of fabric softener, his cologne, and that smell that was so unmistakably Boruto.

She pulled it over her head and slipped it on. The fabric was soft and caressed her skin. It had only been on for a few seconds but she already felt so much warmer. The collar wasn’t close to her nose, yet she could still smell him. Oh my god. Why didn’t she do this sooner? 

“Hey, I’m back, sorry about that,” Boruto slipped into his side of the booth and blinked. She was wearing his sweater, and she had the biggest smile on her face. He smirked. “Happy you like my sweater.” His blue eyes roamed around her figure, a smile on his face. “You look even cuter in it. I’d say pink is your color.” 

She was too happy to say anything. She felt so warm and comfortable, and now he was saying she looked cute. This sweater already felt like cloud 9 but now that he was back, she felt even better. 

Boruto snapped another photo of her, and posted it with a caption, “She wears it better.” despite her hands being hidden under the sleeves. The color made her cheeks look rosier, and that smile she wore… she looked so happy. Boruto’s eyes softened. 

Finally. He was seeing her be happy with him. 

...

Boruto drove slowly on the way back to their dorms. He enjoyed her company and wanted it to last a little longer. The radio played soft music, and she was chattier than usual, too. Whenever he wasn’t looking at the road, he was looking at her. 

“Boruto, eyes on the road!” She admonished, but she was still smiling, a giggle escaping her lips. She was still wearing his sweater and he made a mental note to thank his little sister. It looked good on Sarada. The sleeves were too long and loose on her shoulders, reiterating to him how small and lithe she is. They had both grown a great deal, and he was finally taller than her. 

He grinned. “Scared we’ll crash?” 

Her eyes widened. “Don’t you dare!” 

Boruto smirked. “I won’t crash the car and make us fall into a ditch, don’t worry. But I would gladly fall for you.” 

She rolled her eyes. “You’ve been hitting on me all night.” 

“Is it working?” He asked, cheekily. 

Sarada bit her lip and looked at the road ahead. “Maybe a bit.” 

He picked up her hand and held it to his chest. “Good. I’ve been rehearsing my lines for years.” His eyes were on the road, one hand on the wheel and the other gave her hand a squeeze. It felt nice to be able to talk to her like this again, but this time, be able to fully mean it. He hadn’t confessed yet, but it was only about time.

Even if he was sincere, she didn’t seem to think so. Sarada snickered but didn’t pull her hand away. “Sure, Boruto. The very same lines you use on every other girl isn’t going to work on me.” Even if her voice was light, she looked away, hiding the pink that rose to her cheeks. 

"If I up my game," he grinned, “do you think I’d stand a chance?” 

“Hn. Maybe.” Yes.

The rest of the ride was full of laughs, spontaneous singing, and comfortable silences. The kind that made Boruto wish it would stretch on a little longer. As he parked his car, Sarada removed his sweater and shrugged on her coat. He was a little disappointed that she did, but he was looking forward to having it back. The walk to her dorm, and then to his, was quite a distance and judging from the temperature displayed on his dashboard, he would need it. 

As they reached her door, she fumbled for her keys, thanking him for dinner and how he really didn’t need to foot the bill. 

“You kidding? Mom would kill me if she found out I didn’t pay for it.” 

She rolled her eyes and held on to her keys. Sarada looked at him and smiled. “Thank you for dinner. I really had fun. It’s nice to get to catch up with you again.” 

Boruto flushed. “I had fun too. Thank you for coming with me.” 

Silence. 

He shifted his weight on the balls of his feet and stuffed his hands in his pockets. It was cold, and the distance between them felt a lot closer but also farther at the same time. Boruto looked at her, noticing her gaze was averted from his. Maybe he should— 

“Well,” She gave him a tight smile. “I won’t hold you further.” 

Oh no, please do. 

“Yeah!” Boruto scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, I got a test to review for.” 

“Oh right. Yeah, I gotta review, too.” She stuck the key into the doorknob but suddenly gave him a hug. “Good luck. Text me if you have a question or something.” 

Can I stay and study with you? I want to be with you longer. 

He pulled on a grin and hugged her back but released her when she pulled away, instantly missing her warmth. “Thanks.” 

Sarada grinned at him and unlocked her door, opening it by a crack. “Good luck to us!” 

I really wish it were us.

He waved and she locked the door behind her, leaving him out in the hallway. 

Boruto arrived in his dorm. He took a deep breath and sighed. He was glad to be back but really wished Sarada had stayed with him a little longer. He removed his sweater, put it to his face and inhaled. It smelled like her, and it made him smile. 

“Had fun on your date?” 

He jumped. Mitsuki was inches away from him. “Dude!” He held on to his heart, fearing it would jump out of his chest. “Don’t scare me like that!” 

Mitsuki only gave him his signature smile. “Well?” 

Boruto gave him the stink eye. “It wasn’t a date. I didn’t ask for it to be one, so it wasn’t.” 

Mitsuki kept smiling. “Really? So you need to make it clear it is a date before it is one?” 

“Yes!” Boruto sat on his bed, placing his sweater on his pillow. 

“Then why didn’t you clarify it?” 

He went silent. Why didn’t he? He knew he wanted to go out with her, and it’s not like he didn’t pay the bill when they ate out often. His mom always told him it was fine to treat friends, but he fought her for the bill and insisted because… he wanted it to be one. “I don’t know,” he muttered. 

“Then clarify next time,” Mitsuki stood from the bed and went to his own. “Ask her out for lunch.” 

“We have a test at three.” 

“Then even better. You two can study. But tell her it’s a date.” 

“A study date?” Boruto looked at Mitsuki. 

“A real date,” Mitsuki deadpanned. 

Boruto’S eyes widened. “But—what if she—“ 

“She isn’t busy, or will reject you.” Mitsuki smiled. “I’m sure she would want the company.” 

Boruto pursed his lips. “Yeah but I got gym in the morning and I don’t want to—“ 

“Then bring spare clothes and take a shower. It isn’t so hard, Boruto.” 

Touché. Since when did Mitsuki become so… practical? 

Boruto changed out of his clothes and pulled out his notebook. “Yeah, okay fine.” He took out his phone and saw a text from Sarada. 

“Thank you again for dinner. Don’t sleep too late.” 

He smiled and texted back, “you’re welcome. I won’t. I’ll just skim my notes. It’s not like I need to study so hard to ace it, ya know?” 

She replied almost instantly, “I wouldn’t be so sure. I’m going to study again before the test. I’m getting sleepy.” 

His eyes widened. This was it. An opening! “Wanna grab lunch and then study together?” He hit send and mentally punched himself. Idiot! Make it a date! Three dots appeared and he panicked. “Like a date!” Once he hit send and the three dots instantly disappeared, he screamed into his pillow. Boruto peeked at his screen and saw the three dots go on for fucking ever. 

And finally, she responded. “Alright. It’s a date :)” 

Mitsuki jumped when Boruto suddenly yelled in victory. She said yes. Sarada said yes to go out on a date with him. 

...

Sarada fidgeted as she stared at the clock that hung above the blackboard. She was nervous all morning. And now, in five agonizing minutes, she would be meeting with Boruto. Most likely, she would find him outside. Waiting. She drummed her fingers on the desk. Tapped her pen on her notebook. Chewed on her lower lip. She shook her head and tried to focus on the lecture, but to no avail. 

He asked her out on a date. A date. 

During her morning break with the boys, she told them about it due to their incessant questioning of why she was restless. 

“Boruto asked me out on a date,” she spoke quickly and clarified. “I mean, like, we’re getting lunch and then studying together for a test…” 

Iwabe, Metal, and Denki looked at each other and then back at her. 

Denki spoke and scratched the back of his neck. “Really? It sounds like what you two normally do.” 

Sarada’s has slackened. “I mean, he said it was… a date.” 

Iwabe nodded and sipped on his soda. “Yeah, like a… lunch date?” 

“Or a study date!” Metal added, nervously.  

She blinked. Why were they… watering this down? She pulled out her phone and showed them his text. Their eyes widened and they gasped. 

“It’s true!” Denki screeched. 

Iwabe lifted his hands to the sky. “He finally did it!” 

Metal has tears running down his eyes. “The bravery of youth!” 

Sarada sweatdropped, picked up her belongings, and hurried to class, trying to make sense of what had just happened. 

This was a date. He said it was a date. Chocho was screaming when she read the text and shook her violently, telling her this was it! All the stupid decisions, cowardice, and sexual tension was going to be worth it! 

The bell rang and she zoned back into reality, packing her belongings. 

Sexual tension. 

This wasn’t the first time she heard someone mention there was a lot of this between them. Or have any at all, to begin with. She swallowed. It’s not that she’s never thought about it, or considered it, but Sarada always pushed it back and shrugged it off. Sexual tension… her thoughts drifted to how good he looked in that pink sweater last night, and his abs that showed when he pulled it off. Her trail of thought then moved lower to the waistband of his pants and then to his— 

“Sarada!” 

She blinked and heat rose to her cheeks. Boruto was waving at her from the other side of the hall, his phone in his hand. He was not wearing that pink sweater anymore, but he was looking fresh in a white sweater, and dark jeans. Her heart sank… no pink anywhere. But she smiled nonetheless, Boruto looked like… he was glowing. 

“Hello,” she smiled. “You’re looking… good.” 

Boruto grinned. “Thanks, worked out this morning.” He took her bag from her but struggled a bit as his other hand was holding on to his phone. 

“Here, let me hold that for you.” She took his phone and saw the screen, he was in the middle of texting Mitsuki. 

Left my sweater in the lib where we sat can u g hjhsjd

She frowned. “Why do you keep leaving your things?” She pointed at him. “I told you to always look back before you leave a table.” As she rolled her eyes, she corrected the text, removing the keyboard smash that happened when he took her bag. 

He scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry. I was in a rush. I had to go to the gym, and make sure I took a shower before I meet up with you, ya know? This is our first date, after all.” 

Her heart skipped a beat. Date. It really was a date. This was huge, right? Even if they’ve known each other for years, taking a step like this was… monumental. Well, for Sarada, at least. But was it the same for Boruto? She walked next to him and looked a little more than she normally would. Other than that after-work-out-glow, and smelling even better than his regular cologne, his clothes were pressed, a nice change from the straight-out-of-the-wash look he usually had when laundry day had just finished. 

Her lips curled up as she peeked at his face. This rosy glow on his cheeks looked adorable, and he had been smiling a lot more lately, his aura was significantly lighter, too. In turn, it made her smile more, and her heartfelt lighter. But the guilt and shame still lingered and resurfaced every once in a while. She spent a good ten minutes the previous night whining to her best friend if it was too soon to date, to which her best friend assured her it wasn’t. She and Kagura were still friends… or so they said. 

“Hey,” Boruto waved his hand in front of her face. “You okay? Is something on my face?” 

Sarada shook her head and laughed nervously. “No, you look great.” 

Boruto smirked. “Keep telling me I look great and I might just think you’re in love with me.” 

She snickered. “You wish!” 

“Oh, I definitely do.” He winked at her. “Every night, to all the gods in the skies!” He threw his hands up for dramatic flare, which made her laugh, forgetting all her troubling thoughts. 

This was starting to look like a good first date. 

...

The next morning was a nightmare. Chocho decided not to come home to the dorm “just in case” and when she found out nothing happened, she was furious. Screaming all over the place that when she received a text that Boruto asked her immediately for another date after the exam, Chocho packed an overnight bag and camped out on Namida’s couch. 

“I set everything up for you!” She cried as she munched on a bag of chips. “Why couldn’t you?” Her mouth was full, but she didn’t care. 

Sarada put her belongings down on the table and gave Wasabi and Namida an apologetic smile. The two didn’t seem to mind, but there was also a certain tension between the two. She looked around and found that there were two seats empty, but one of them had a certain pink sweater draped on it. Her eyes widened. Was that… Boruto’s sweater? 

Shit. This was her chance. She could casually, innocently, take it, tell him she found it and kept it for him but in truth, she would never give it back. That sweater was far too comfortable to return. She made a move to take it, but before her hand could grab on to the soft, fuzzy fabric, it was snatched right away. 

“Here it is!” Mitsuki smiled. Sarada had half a mind to hit him, but when he noticed she was reaching for it, he was surprised. “Oh, Sarada… did Boruto ask you to get his sweater? I received the text and he asked if I could go back for it…” 

“What?” Sarada panicked. “No, of course not. I wasn’t trying to take it or anything!” 

He blinked. “You were reaching for it, were you not?” 

“Ridiculous!” She sat back down on her chair and crossed her arms. "I was… trying to get a better look. I thought, Inojin was there and I was going to wave.” What the hell, think of a better excuse next time. Idiot. 

Mitsuki raised both his eyebrows and a smug smile came to his face. “Okay, then. So you won’t mind I take the sweater?” 

“Of course not,” Sarada stuck her nose up in the air and adjusted her glasses. “Tell Boruto to be more responsible and pick up his things himself!” She sniffed. 

Mitsuki nodded slowly and that signature smile of his was back on his face. “Surely.” 

“The hell was that?” Wasabi muttered. 

Namida only shrugged. Chocho was still busy whining and eating her chips. 

Sarada slumped down on the chair. She had to get that sweater. It was a mighty need that needed to be fulfilled. 

...

It’s foolproof. Boruto had class, and so did Mitsuki. She felt the keys in her pockets and sneaked her way up to their dorm. Easy. No one will even know she went in. All those times Boruto had lost his keys were finally reaping their benefits. Boruto gave her the spare key to their dorm, and in turn, she handed him a key to hers. For safety and emergency reasons, of course. 

Making sure no one saw her, Sarada hurried down the hall and stuck the key inside the doorknob, trying not to make a sound. Once the lock opened, she twisted the doorknob and pushed it open. A sly smile crept up her face. See? Easy. 

She didn’t look around, as she only had one item she went here for and she found it right away, on his bed. She chuckled and held on to the sweater. Holding it to her face and rubbing the soft fabric on her face. It smelled like him, too. What a bonus. Sarada removed her glasses and slipped on the sweater over her head. Before her face was through, someone called out to her and she froze. 

“Sarada? What are you doing?” 

Shit! Shit shit shit! 

She pulled the sweater down and patted it on her body with one hand as the other groped around for her glasses. “M-Mitsuki? Don’t you have class?” It was blurry, but it looked like there was someone else in the room. She couldn’t quite tell who. 

Mitsuki stood up and approached her, her view going HD again once she placed her glasses on. Sarada felt all the blood fall to her feet. Sumire was there, too. Sitting at the table, having lunch with Mitsuki. 

Oh my god. Never mind breaking and entering, and stealing, but she was intruding on a date! 

“Oh my god. I am so so sorry!” Her face was red and she wanted to disappear. This was a bad idea. A very, very bad idea. “I’ll just—“ 

“Hey, the door is open!” Boruto entered, a scowl on his face. “What the hell is—“ 

He stopped mid-step and blinked, blue eyes then slowly taking in the whole scene but ultimately landed on Sarada. If she wanted to disappear before, she just wished the ground would open up and swallow her whole already. 

No one dared to talk, except for Mitsuki who slowly smiled his signature smile and placed a hand on Sarada’s shoulder, relief washing over her. Yes! Mitsuki, you are such a good friend. Please cover it up! 

“She just came by to steal your sweater,” Mitsuki explained. 

Perhaps death would be kinder than Mitsuki. Scratch that, it totally would be. Why did she even think he would help her? 

"My sweater?" Boruto walked over to her, and Sarada started sputtering for an excuse. He only laughed and gave her a shy smile. “If you wanted to borrow it, you just had to say so, ya know?” 

Her eyes widened, and the prettiest shade of pink dusted her cheeks. “R-really?” 

“Yeah, I’d do anything for you…” Boruto looked at the ground, trying to hide the flush on his own cheeks. 

Mitsuki smiled at them and looked at Sumire, “See? They make a good couple.” 

Sumire giggled. “They do.” 

Boruto jumped and started stammering when he noticed Sumire in their dorm, his eyes also noticing the food laid out on the table. “Shit! Sorry! We’re bothering, and I—I didn’t see… Shit, yeah. We’ll go.” He held on to Sarada’s hand and pulled her out of the dorm, leaving Mitsuki and Sumire inside, laughing their heads off. 

A/N: Phew. This took me way longer to write and is the longest chapter I have ever written. IGY chapters are usually only at 1000 words, after all. And this was full of fluffy fluff fluff! While writing it, I was subtly looking for the hurt and the angst. It feels so unreal to have an IGY chapter be this fluffy but the next coming ones will also be fluffy and shocking.

I would really like to hear what you have to say about this chapter! Do leave me a review. ^^ 

If you like what I write, and want to read more, please do check out my #fanfiction tag. I also have links to my Master Post, ff.net, Ao3, Twitter, and Ko-Fi.

[uraniumwriting]

Hey Look at What I’ve Been Doing

This is a scene (totally unedited whoops) from Between the Lines, in which a demonstration just got interrupted by the asshole himself, and a few new assassin friends (because they were getting paid)

taglist: @soul-write @horsepowerred (i don’t think there was anyone else, sorry if I forgot!)

The anger the crowd had soon turned to fear as the flames soared above their heads. Some pushed past Roopal and into the alleyway, seeing me, but ignoring me.

 I couldn’t help but let out a laugh as I watched them all run past me. It was funny, watching how quickly they turned from the predators to the prey. I slipped through them, trying to get to Roopal.

 It’s not like this guy is actually scary or anything, I thought, pushing my earlier fears aside. He’s just a joke.

 That’s what I told myself, until I looked up at the apartment roofs, and saw the devil incarnate himself. Agnidev.

 Even though he may look ridiculous on television, I had to admit, he was terrifying, despite being many yards away from me.

 “What are you doing here?” I looked at Roopal as he finally noticed me, giving him as small shrug.

 “I wanted to stop the demonstrators from hurting people,’ I said, before looking bak at Agnidev. “Do you think he’s going to try anything?”

 “He’s an entitled whit—I mean, he knows we’re here, so he likely will.” Roopal looked up at Angidev with me. Agnidev wasn’t moving for that second, and I couldn’t really see his face, but I knew he was staring down at the two of us. Like he was better than us.

 Then, a wall of flame shot at us.

 I moved before I could even think, pressing myself against the wall of the alleyway and shutting my eyes. The hot flames stabbed at me like knives, making the air around me feel oppressive as it rushed past me. It left almost as soon as it came, but the heat stuck by me as I slowly opened my eyes, forcing my body to relax. My heart was beating too hard and too fast for my liking, and my lungs just wouldn’t work right. But, I wasn’t immediately incinerated, which was probably a good thing.

 “Kid, you should probably go inside.” Roopal stepped in front of me, keeping an eye on Angidev the whole time.

 “You sound like my dad. I’m fine, and I want to help.”

 “It’s almost like your dad came to me, the guy with three kids older than you, for parenting advice.” Roopal pushed me back more, looking at me for just a second before focusing on Agnidev again. “And, it’s not your job to help. It’s your job to feel safe.”

 “Well, I’d feel safer if I could help get this guy in jail!” I wondered if Agnidev had any clue what our conversation was like at that moment, or if he just though we were insane. Don’t know which one of those options I would prefer.

 Then, someone across the street caught my eye. More specifically, two people. There was the one person that I saw before, which I could recognize because of their outfit, but there was now someone else, dressed in obnoxious neon colors. And the two of them were fighting in hand to hand combat, which I soon recognized as some form of martial arts. It was very similar to the one my dad taught at his studio, it seemed.

 “I don’t think he’s alone,” I said to Roopal, right before another person in bright neon jumped in front of us.

 The police sirens were still there, but they didn’t seem to get any closer. Or any farther.

 “Great, the Konda triplets. Keep an eye out for the third one,” Roopal answered, though the question I had never posed had already been answered for me. I turned around towards the other side of the alley, staying close to Roopal as he pulled out his plants.

 I had never met the Konda triplets, but I had heard a lot about them from my dad. Two of them, Heidi and Angie, were identical twins, and they both were born with the ability to produce an extremely deadly venom. The third one, Emily, didn’t have that ability, but she was really, really good at chemistry. And exactly how to kill people in the most painful ways. If they had lived normal lives, the three would be in college now, but their parents died at some point, and they decided to basically become assassins.

 I heard Roopal grunt behind me, and I just hoped he didn’t get hit.

 “Hello, sweetie.” I jumped as I saw a figure walk out from behind the dumpster, clad in all black. That was Emily. She walked up to me slowly, as if she wasn’t trying to startle me. Well, it was too late for that, as I felt my arms tingling. “I don’t think you remember me. I used to watch you all the time when you were little.”

 “Uh, that’s cool, but your sister’s trying to kill the guy that’s basically my adopted uncle so, uh, that’s a problem.” So, so graceful.

 “Don’t worry, it’s not you’d have much time to mourn him, anyway,” Emily said in a calm tone, taking something out of her pocket. I didn’t wait at that point, and neither did my reflexes. I felt the aura around my arms, but it didn’t make me panic like at school. Probably because I was panicking about something else at the moment.

 “No you don’t!” I yelled in a totally cool fashion, before running to close the gap between Emily and I, my fist ready for a punch, which I didn’t even know how to do properly. I pushed my weight forward as I got to her, ignoring the fact she could stab something in my arm and immediately kill me. For some odd reason, I aimed for her shoulder, instead of her nose, which I could’ve broke. The punch connected, though, and I looked away as I saw the aura grow sharp, piercing through her skin.

I pulled away quickly, taking a few steps back as I watched Emily recoil from the pain. I almost felt a bit bad, but then I felt proud, because I just landed a hit on a trained assassin. Then, I felt bad again, because there was no reason why she should’ve had to become a trained assassin in order to survive.

 Giovanna, please stop feeling bad for people that are literally trying to kill you, I thought. After all, it’s kind of important to your well-being that you’re alive.

 “Well, that’s rude. And here I was, going to give you something not so painful, because you’re just a kid.” Emily stood up as straight as she could, despite the pain. “And then you just go ahead and stab me.”

 “Well, I’d appreciate it more if that first part was just not killing me.” I kept my fists up, though the sight of blood make me want to barf all over the ground. It was, odd, to say the least. After all, I’ve seen blood plenty of times, once a month at the very least. Why would I get nauseous because I hurt somebody that was literally trying to kill me?

 “Sorry, sweetie, but in this economy, we need the money that we’ll get from killing you.” Emily dropped the thing she had taken out of her pocket onto the ground, taking something else out of her pocket instead. “How would some Ethylene glycol feel for you?”

 “I’m guessing uh, painful?”

 “Very painful. You’ll die in around seventy-two hours, with your organs slowly shutting down, one by one. At least you’d have time to say goodbye to your loved ones first.” Emily started to advance towards me again, though this time, the gap was much smaller.

 “Uh, well, would me being alive even change anything? Like, you know, it’s not like I’ve done anything. My head probably doesn’t fetch that too high of a price.” I took as many steps back as I could, now being back to back with Roopal. Emily stopped, squinting at me.

 “You are too humble. Almost a shame,” she said, before lunging at me. All my body told me to do was duck, which was what I did, not thinking about the fact that there was someone behind me that was also a potential target for Emily.

 The sirens started to get closer.

 Emily stayed above me, aiming her syringe for Roopal now. I opened my mouth to yell something, something to warn him, but even if something came out, it was immediately drowned out by a different siren. Fire department. He somehow knew, though, sending a dense vine up right where Emily was aiming, as if he actually practiced this kind of stuff. Oh yeah, he did. I was like, the only Superhuman that didn’t.

 Emily hit the vine with her syringe, getting stuck for just a moment. I took that opportunity, doing something actually smart, and tackled her legs while she was off balance. She fell backwards, hitting the shoulder that I had already injured onto the floor.  

 “Giovanna, kid, get back inside now. If anyone finds you, they’ll start questioning.” I scrambled back up as Roopal spoke, still parrying the attacks from whichever Konda triplet was there. The sirens from the firetruck were loud, and they weren’t moving.

 “But—“

 “No buts this time. Just go back.” I wanted to explain my reasoning as to why I’d be fine, but it seemed like I wasn’t going to be allowed to talk. So, I simply kicked Emily the ribs one time, for good measure, before sprinting back over the fire escape and climbing up.

I hopped into my father’s room, walked back into the living room, and didn’t say a word to Mrs. Greenstein.

 Maybe Nadia was right. Maybe I did need to train.

[iamgonesoseeya]

Connor asks Nines about his new “faulty system” around Hank, because he knows about Nines and Gavin’s more romantic relationship.

(when Hank is pregnant, before they're a couple)

Gavin and Nines come over for dinner one night - to the humans it's an ordinary evening, but to Connor and Nines it's "celebratory Gavin finally asked Nines to be his boyfriend so now to commence operation bag Lieutenant Anderson" night. While Gavin mocks Hank by drinking a beer, all the while feeling the baby kick, Connor listens as Nines discusses his first official date with the detective.

"We went to a bowling alley with a bar. Gavin got angry I won and then asked me to have sex with him in the bathroom." Nines explained, oh so matter-of-fact like. Connor's eyes widened as he glanced over at the man in question, and nodded.

"Did you?"

"No. I said traditionally we should wait until the third date to have sex."

"But you've had sex before, multiple times?"

"They were never dates. Although I was upset, I rather enjoy pleasuring Gavin with my newly upgraded penis, but human culture defines it so."

Connor frowns, then hums thoughtfully. Despite not having any sexual or romantic relationships since deviancy, he had had the same upgrade as Nines, and was eager to use it for the very nature of sex. However, Connor only had eyes for one person, and that one person had much more pressing issues to deal with rather than Connor's technological virginity.

He feels like he's in hell with how madly infatuated he is with Hank, and let alone his handy dandy new upgrade, he wants a romantic relationship with him more than anything. He and Hank's relationship is so close to the finishing line, Connor could practically reach out and grab his dreams, but it wasn't happening. The closest he got was almost catching Hank masturbate in his bedroom, and endure the following scene of Hank lose his words over his own lust, eyes draping down Connor seductively. He didn't know what, but there had to be something that could help him get that next step.

Nines and Connor walk through into the living room, still discussing the date, which catches Gavin's attention.

"You're not talking bout the damn fucking date still, are you?" He pretends to barf under his breath. "You're like a dumb love struck teenager!"

Hank mindlessly rubs his midsection, barely even listening to Gavin as he berates Nines for seemingly nothing. Connor takes the opportunity to just admire him, so caught in the basking glow he exudes now, constantly. Hank really loves his little girl, and the passion he has, the glow that halos him so perfectly just makes Connor's thiruim pump relapse a moment.

"If you're so uninterested, Detective, why did you ask me to have sexual intercourse with you in the bar bathroom?"

Hank and Connor stare at him in disbelief, followed by Hank cackling to Gavin's horror.

"You're such a fucking slut, Reed, oh fuck-" Hank shakes with laughter, hands holding his middle as he loses his breath. "Jeeze, I thought it was a date too, not a fuck and chuck! Poor Richard...with state of the art equipment like Cyberlife probably give you, you could do a lot better than Gav here."

Nines snickers despite Gavin's toxic tongue, trying to interject into the conversation. "Having the highest model currently conceived is fairly good, and serves it's function to it's very best, so no complaints from me."

Hank smirks, then with a cheeky smirk, turns to Connor. "You jealous, kid? I don't understand how you're not getting these upgrades from the sounds of them."

Connor doesn't read Hank's joke, and continues normally.

"I have actually had built in the same state of the art add on as Nines. I feel all the sensations a human's genitalia can, and more, and I have decided to try and find someone who matters. When I have sex for the first time, I want it to be the most special thing ever." He holds a hand up, turning to Nines. "I do wonder if I'm experiencing a fault in my systems though, due to the increase in libido."

Nines shakes his head. "It's just the coding in your chipping rewriting crucial data. It will settle after you've engaged in intercourse."

"Do you feel as if your emotional sector has been hightened since the upgrades too?"

"Very mildly, but you are more prone to emotions than I am. Perhaps it best you discuss emotional attachment and sexual desires with Lieutenant Anderson." Nines turns to Hank, but stops suddenly, raising a brow.

Hank's entire face is red, and it seems he's holding his breath.

Connor worries, his LED flickering like a traffic light. "Hank are you-"

"You're talking about fucking in front of someone who hasn't been laid in months, maybe dial down the smut." Gavin rolls his eyes and takes a swig of his beer. Connor goes to speak but decides against it, shuffling out the kitchen when Hank's face falls in his hands. When he and Nines are out the room, they hear a loud thump, followed by Gavin shouting in pain.

[ecotone99]

[MS] Cothrom

The studio apartment, where Jeffrey McHahan found himself sitting, was filled with post-modern pieces of art. Some of which looked like it had been through a giant blender, then pasted back together with melted crayons and bubblegum. He did not bother trying to see any significance or symbolism in the piece. He had seen cold bowls of oatmeal that have had more charm. The man who lived here had an expensive taste, but not much reason to stay longer than a night at a time. The artwork did little more than fill the room, and that was about it. Sketches of barfed out figures but no pictures of family or friends. Sculptures that resemble busted machinery glued together in a macramé hammock, but no big screen TV or stools at the kitchenette.

Jeffery was not a smoker, at least not since his time in Eastern Europe. The room was dark, but the orange glow from a burning cigarette was not going to be accompanying the foreboding of his task. The task he appointed to himself, and was obligated to take on from several parties of grief-stricken parents, was not going to be an uncalculated robbery. It was going to have a purpose. It was going to provide cothrom. The room already smelled like toxic glue and cleaner, from the art pieces, and Heaven only knew what the smell of second-hand smoke would have added.

"Why?" Jeffery muttered to himself looking through the glass table at his light brown work boots. Above sat a manila folder, a black pen, and a suppressed CZ-75 Automatic which he understandably almost always had set on "semi-automatic". He could not quite understand why people insisted on eating at glass tables, and the thought became the most apparent with the unsettling "clang" from placing his gun there earlier. “...why have one this flimsy?” He stayed cool, but perplexed, with no reason to be fidgety or paranoid. The alarm was deactivated, his spandex gloves were on, and the place was swept for weapons. In the hour he had been there, waiting for Mark Laughlin to come home, he had only been sitting for ten minutes. Waiting is not the hardest part when you know the social patterns and routines. It's everything that comes after they walk through the door that makes the difference between zen and bedlam.

Mark Laughlin, a Caucasian man in his early 20s, strolled into his apartment whistling an indistinct tune and tossing his keys into a porcelain bowl by the front door. His attitude was casual, in a good mood from beating some of his drinking buddies in a game of racquetball. When he tossed his keys, over-head into the bowl, he noticed his alarm panel was off. He grunted quizzically as he opened a small cabinet to retrieve a Glock 19, he kept in a lockbox. To his dismay the box had already been opened and the gun was missing. Keeping his bravado, he cautiously walked into his apartment dialing "911" on his cell phone.

"Good afternoon Mr. Laughlin..." Jeffery said holding up his CZ-75, elbow resting on the table. Mark panicked and put up his hands. "Hey man easy..." "Put down the phone." "I didn’t push 'Send'..." "Unplug from your tech ways Mr. Laughlin. I won't ask again." Jeffery’s tone stayed calm and official; but he did pull back the hammer to let Mark know he would be shot if there was no compliance. Mark tossed the phone onto the kitchenette counter. "Listen I have money, there's..." "$6,435 American, 800 Euros, and a big diamond ring in your bedroom safe. I know, I helped myself to it, you can keep the passport.” He pointed, with the gun, at a nearby seat of the table. “Now sit down please Mr. Laughlin." "Can I get you a drink?" It was the only other thing he could offer his intruder, perhaps picking up on the Irish accent, and assuming he could bribe him with the age-old cliché. He made his way toward the mini-bar, motioning toward the bay windows, with an appealing raise of the eyebrows. "No thank you. I don't drink on Thursdays. By the way I cut the wire on that panic button of yours." Jeffery’s Irish accent went gruff, with his tone at the end of his sentences being absolute rather than ending with a stereotypical high pitch. Mark stopped in his tracks and lowered his head defeated. "Can I get some ice?" "If by 'ice' you mean the unregistered .38 snub in your mini-fridge..." Jeffery pulled the gun in question out of his satchel, and gently placed it on the table. "...then no... you may not. Sit down Mark, I'm getting tired of askin'." Though annoyed his tone was still calm, but more demanding.

Mark frowned, he opened his mouth to say something, but refrained and settled for a shrug of the shoulders instead. He walked over to the table and sat down; his situation was bleak but his body language was reinforcing his false sense of confidence. Jeffery de-cocked the hammer on his pistol sitting it down gently.

“Are you familiar with the name Linda Velicia?” Jeffery opened the folder like a lawyer beginning a line of questioning. Mark looked up surprised, like the name DID bring up a tragic memory. “No…” “’No’? Ok, what about Brandon Welsh?” Mark’s eyes grew wide. “No…” “Rebecca Zenburg, Dillon Roacheque?” Mark rolled his hands, through his dark blonde hair. He grew anxious. "Are you sure Mr. Laughlin? I'm getting the impression I’m hittin’ a wall here..." "I... What the fuck do you want!?" "I'm trying to be civil and give you the opportunity of being honest with me." Jeffery stayed calm, but his tone was getting louder as he placed a photograph in front of Mark. "Linda Velacia?"

Mark glanced at the picture and quickly looked away; he was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. The picture was a printout photo, most likely from a social media page, of a young blonde-haired Caucasian woman, smiling at a college party, with a red disposable cup in her hand.

Jeffery raised his eyebrows quizzically looking at Mark's reaction. "The name match the face?" “I don’t recall…” Mark replied with an ounce of shame in his tone trying, but upspeaking in the form of a question. “How about this one?” Jeffery laid out a Poloroid of Linda in a hospital bed. The left side of her face badly cut and bruised. Her mouth covered in medical tape with a breathing tube. “Christ…” Mark whispered shaking his head. Jeffery put out another picture; one of a young Caucasian man, with brown hair, by a pond, smiling with a pair of black Labrador retrievers. “Brandon Welsh?” Mark looked at the picture, then looked up at Jeffery with tears starting to form. Jeffery squinted menacingly putting out an eight-by-ten forensic photo of Brandon crushed by his steering wheel, face covered in windshield glass. “Don’t look at me boy! Look at the picture!” He was slowly getting angry. Mark looked down, covered his eyes, and began to sob. “Fuck you...” “This is Rebecca Zenburg before…” He presented a slightly grainy print out of a light skinned black girl smiling, with her parents, at her high school graduation. “…this one here is her after she met you. I don’t know how pertinent it may be for your recollection.” He slid another forensic eight-by-ten across the table. “As you can see her head’s a bit obscured in this one.” Mark leaped up from the table. “Look, I need a drink ok!?” Jeffery leaped up and grabbed him by the left shoulder, pushing him back down into the chair. “Drinking put you in me crosshairs, taking another sip will cause a pull of the trigger…” He grabbed the back of Mark’s head, forcing a tilt toward the table. “Easier for you to remember when you’re sober? She’s a bit hard to make out in that one!? Steel beams tend to do that...”

Mark looked at the CZ-75, “business end” pointed toward him despite it resting on the table. He wiped his tears, took a deep breath, and considered trying to get to the root of what Jeffery wanted.

“How much money do you want?” Mark said getting right to business, silver spoon providing whatever pay could get himself out of his present situation. Jeffery let go of Mark’s head and sat back down with a smirk. “First maybe you can tell me what the hell is the matter with you.” “I like to party sometimes. I’m really a good driver....” “Obviously not...” Jeffery interrupted him swiftly already knowing what kind of man he was, motioning at the pictures on the table. “...but you know that’s what taxis are for. Judging by your design choices I’d say you have the money for them.” He looked around the room and sighed. “No... I know you’re an irresponsible drunk. Take this glass table as sort of an example.” “What?” “Why do people buy glass tables? You can’t put a hot pot on it, you can’t stand on it to fix your ceiling fan, and you can’t exactly bang a cute girl from the bar on it… That is if they made it here alive... So, what’s the point of it? Is it cheaper than wood? Is it a ‘fengsuai’ thing maybe?” Mark sat in his chair with a quizzical look on his face, trying to follow the line of questioning. He never expected to be held at gunpoint for his decorating decision. “Well... would you rather we talked about the lives you ruined while driving drunk?” Jeffery shrugged his eyebrows and sat back in his chair, trying to mess with Mark’s head. “I was acquitted of those accidents!” Mark sat forward and said with a stern voice. Jeffery slapped Mark across the face. “You got off! There’s a difference boy! Insanity, or after a botched 28 days in rehab, or your daddy being the honorable Judge Laughlin!? The ‘honorable’ part being questionable. There ain’t a court in the world that would have acquitted you otherwise! No jury would have let you just walk away from this!” “Just tell me what you want! I can get you money!” Mark blocked his face from another strike. Jeffery smacked him anyway hitting his left forearm. “The problem with you is your daddy didn’t do that enough.” He grabbed a legal document from the file and slid it in front of Mark. “You don’t have to pay me a dime, I already helped myself to your safe, but you didn’t give your victims one penny.”

Jeffery sat back in his chair and waited for the young man to read the document in full. He had no empathy for Mark, or what he had done. Reading his face, he could tell that being forced to finally pay damages wasn’t going to be an issue, but was he going to learn from his mistakes? Some people don’t have the sense to stay from behind the wheel after getting wasted, but most learn from their first accident. Mark Laughlin was a man who was made abandoned yet cuddled by his rich parents. While his sister Kelly went off to be a future starving artist, Mark got lucky investing in his college friends’ real estate and freemium mobile apps. His problems could be solved with a checkbook, and a written note from his Judge father, but Jeffery clenched his fist knowing none of it could bring back the victims.

Thinking of their families he breathed deeply and placed a pen on the table. “I don’t really care what YOU think of the terms. Sign the paper Mr. Laughlin. You owe much more than what it states.” His shoulders sank and tone grew dim. The clack of the plastic pen, on the glass table, sounded like a boulder crashing into a deep chasm. Mark started to shake, his eyes grew buggy, looking at the pictures of his former friends.

“How did it go?” A burly bald man with a Boston accent and grey beard, asked looking in a manila folder. “Not the way I would have expected, but I’m not saddened by the results.” Jeffery replied exhaustingly leaning against a tree in Palmer Park. “Was he sick with anything?” “Give them a different folder for appearances sake.” Jeffery hadn’t noticed the small blood smear on the corner. “You’ll be fine though. The only thing he was sick with was poor decision makin’.” “Is it all on the up?” The burly man, Ray Starks, shook the folder giving Jeffery a look of concern. “Just give the document to the attorney, she’ll see it through.” He walked toward his car, a 2008 Dodge Charger. “I already got me pay, so tell them to save my cut.” “How much he have?” Not considering it a shakedown Jeffery gave the man a sly look. “Anniversary coming up?” “Yeah...” Jeffery tossed the diamond ring. “Give your old lady that.” Ray caught it with one hand and looked at his palm, eyes lighting up. “You beautiful son-of-a-bitch. You know Christmas ain’t for another seven months?” “You’re welcome asshole.” Jeffery got into his car. “Hey...” Ray tapped on the driver-side window. “...seriously. You’re a wicked pissahJeffy.” He continued after the power window went down. “Thanks, is what I’m tryin’ to say. Not just cause of the ring. Fuck that Laughlin guy, the families will appreciate what you did for them.”

Jeffery nodded approvingly, with a stern look and a half smile, before driving off. What he did most wouldn’t consider “right”, but he was a professional. He was someone that provided cothrom, to those who don’t have time to inform or trust the police. Or in Mark Laughlin’s case those who slip past “Lady Justice”. No matter which side of the law his results went he didn’t do it for the money or the glory. He had his reasons, a long history of why’s and when's. Ray, like a lot of his friends, was someone who could be trusted with this knowledge. A former member of an outlaw biker gang, he spent most of his time as a courier up and down the east coast. Transporting discrete documents for Jeffery and others who needed his services.

As Jeffery drove up North Front Street his cell phone rang to life.

“Hey Jeffy can you get over to The Arch Apartments? Kidnapping took place this morning, it’s the usual M.O., but something’s hanky about it. I’ll give you the details when you arrive.” A man with a Dominican accent said quickly but quietly over the phone, not giving Jeffery a second to say “Hello?” “I’ll be there in 15. What’s the apartment number?” “Apartment 12D. The front desk will buzz you up, I told them to expect you. This place is classy, make sure you dress appropriately. They might not let you in.”

A kidnap and ransom case? How Victor got word wasn’t important to him, he being in the Philadelphia Police Department had its perks with information gathering. In the trunk of his car he kept a dark blue blazer, among other things, that he swapped with his brown leather jacket. He sprayed on some deodorant and rushed into the lobby of the old apartment complex. The outside of the building was of a 1920s design and the lobby had been renovated to make it reflect that. The front desk, not saying a word, waved Jeffery up. In the corridor on the twelfth floor the door for apartment D swung open after a swift knock. Victor Guzman, stood in the doorway wearing a dark grey pants suit. He stood with a look of subdued shock at the sight before him.

"It's the first sign of the apocalypse!" Victor said with a chuckle at Jeffery's outfit. “You said dress properly so I threw on me best jacket.” He replied with a grin. He looked down at his faded jeans and brown boots. “It’s a nice effort but I said wear a suit.” “No, you didn’t you said ‘dress appropriately’.” “No, I sent you a text message after you hung up saying ‘that means wear a suit.’” Jeffery pulled out his cell phone, from his jeans pocket, and browsed through his texts. “Ah… had me phone on vibrate so I wouldn’t crash and die.” He put away the phone and reached into his left inner jacket pocket. “Don’t worry I figured this wouldn’t be enough.” He produced a black clip-on tie which he proceeded to put on the collar of his t-shirt. “God help me…” Victor replied in his native Spanish. “Come on get in here.” Jeffery tugged at Victor’s shirt color. “If I knew we were going to a GQ photoshoot I would have made a better effort.” “Hey! I got this at Men’s Warehouse, not that fruity shit. The guy was right, I like the way I look, but my wallet thinks I’m an asshole.”

Jeffery laughed and made his way into the apartment; the suite had a gloomy atmosphere to it. A pale and dark foreboding was in the air and it was reflected by the lighting. It could either be a sign of the case to come, or it was just the way it shined through the beige curtains, it was not a pleasant setting. The apartment had a long corridor that lead to several other rooms, all of which about the size of a whole cheaper apartment in New York City. This was most certainly a high-end complex, “you could fit six families in here” he thought to himself “what a waste of space”. “What’s going on Vic?” He said with a sense of uneasiness in his voice. Victor frowned and turned to face Jeffery. “Kidnapping, six years old, name’s Tyler Bloom.” Jeffery hung his head in regret and yanked his tie off, the moment for humor had passed. “How long ago?” “This morning, 7:32AM, somewhere near the corner of Westmoreland and 17th.” “Where are the parents?” “The mother is crying her eyes out in his bedroom and his step father is watching the game in the living room.”

Jeffery made his way down the corridor trying not to look at the pictures that covered the wall on the right. Birthdays, summer vacations, Christmases, Halloweens, trips to the mall, even a few pictures of Tyler as a baby in the maternity ward, every angle and crack of his smile documented. Holding back tears wasn’t a hard thing to do at this point in his life. “Never distant, but never involved.” He knew better than to look at the wall of family photos but he couldn’t help it. They told him time and time again in the Philly P.D. not to look at photos of happier times, not to get involved emotionally with a case. Just as soon as you look at the smile of such a child’s face the grim reality of finding their lifeless body suddenly makes the meeting disappointing. Having to tell the parents, having to describe how you found them in the sincerest way possible, while clutching onto a professional tone and not letting your emotions show, although on many occasions Jeffery wanted to cry right along with them.

He made a left into the living room; the décor was postmodern with industrial style settings. Light gray walls with bright colored furniture that matched the modern paintings. The furniture helped brighten up the gloomy mood of the apartment’s atmosphere, but Martin Swanson looked like a black hole of hope in the middle of the couch. On the 65” HDTV was a St. Lois Cardinals and Washington Nationals baseball game. Martin was very subdued, not even paying attention, or rooting for either side.

Lauren Bloom sat in Tyler’s bedroom, staring off into space, tears in her eyes, clutching a stuffed cheetah toy. She was a young black woman with a frizzy natural afro. She looked as if she had got dressed in a hurry but was wearing expensive tight legged jeans, boots, and a Kashmir sweater. She had on no makeup but was a young attractive woman, this was a blessing he thought “she probably would have cried it all off by now.”

“Miss. Bloom this is my associate Jeffrey McHahan.” Victor said with an era of sympathy and professionalism. Lauren glanced up and looked down quickly. “Hello.” She said her voice cracking through her tears. “Ma’am.” Jeffery replied remorsefully with a nod toward her, and then retreated with Victor back into the corridor. “Is he the father?” Jeffery asked referring to Martin. “He died last year from heart complications. He ain’t mine.” Martin spoke up bluntly replying with his eyes fixated on the baseball game. “Lauren is currently engaged to... Mr. Swanson. This is his place.” Victor said with a sigh. “And what is it you do for a living Mr. Swanson?” Jeffery asked aggressively walking into the middle of the living room. Martin got up from his chair, uncomfortable by the advancement, and made his way to the kitchenette. “I’m a stock broker.” “So, I imagine you have a long list of enemies?” “Yeah! You know sometimes I imagine unicorns and Santa Clause too!” He walked toward the kitchenette to grab a beer from the refrigerator. “I imagine if I didn’t put a ring on that woman’s finger I wouldn’t be in this fucking mess!” He shouted in the direction of Tyler’s bedroom.

Lauren slammed the bedroom door causing Victor to roll his eyes. Jeffery grabbed him by the arm and motioned for them to head back into the corridor.

“Thanks... I’ve had me fill of dealing with spoiled yuppies today Vic.” “Yeah and about that, the Laughlin thing came over the radio while you were on your way here.” Jeffery looked shocked. “Let me guess. cleaning lady found him?” “Yeah... Nice mess you left behind.” “I didn’t mean for it to go down like that. I swear I was just gonna scare him, you know? Beat him up a bit?” “What the hell happened then?” “I’ll tell you later! Did the kidnappers make any demands yet? Contact the family?” Jeffery was trying to get the case back on track. He knew Victor didn’t like hearing about his “messes” since it went against a long-standing agreement, they set years ago. “The old cliché'; ‘don’t call the cops or we’ll kill the boy’ you know? Lauren called the district, L.T. got wind, made it confidential, and I thought of you.” Victor shrugged his shoulders giving Jeffery the short version. “You like ‘Quicksilver’ for this?” “I’m getting a bad vibe from him, yeah.” “Me too...” Jeffery walked back toward the kitchenette. “Who was the last person to see the boy, I mean apart from the kidnappers?” “The fam…” Jeffery interrupted Martin to clarify what he meant. “Were there any witnesses?” “Yes! Jamie Williamson, I hired that hood rat to be Tyler’s driver.” He took a long swig of his beer. Jeffery rolled his eyes over to Victor. “Was there any blood at the scene?” It was a question that he didn’t want to ask, but was an important detail that had to be clarified regardless. The question wasn’t for Martin, but he stopped drinking and grew a guilty look on his face. As if he suddenly gave a damn about Tyler’s life. “No, thank God, it seemed like a simple ‘crash and grab’.” Victor replied sighing with relief. “L.T. reported the crime scene to the traffic division, as of now they’re treating it like a simple fender bender.” “But that won’t last for long.” Jeffery shook his head.

Knowing that wasn’t the case in reality, he figured the kidnappers were amateurs. He wasn’t certain if that was a blessing or a curse for Tyler.

“Why does Jamie Williamson sound familiar?” Victor said with a quizzical expression. “He couldn’t be related to Cyrus, could he?” “The drug dealer? No, the world can’t be that small.” “Drug dealers!? Oh, that’s cute!” Martin quipped heading back to the couch. Victor pulled out his police issued smart phone and began searching for the name Jamie Williamson. “So, what was it Mr. Swanson took too big of a laundering fee?” Jeffery asked flippantly knowing guys like Martin could get involved with the wrong clientele.

Victor looked up for a second, from his case searching, waiting for Martin’s reply. He had a feeling of a confrontation about to begin. Martin, a man of smaller stature compared to Jeffery’s nearly six-foot frame, tossed his nearly empty bottle at Jeffery. In his eyes it seemed like a smart offensive move. Jeffery, in turn, smacked the bottle to the side of the room without a shatter. Victor rolled his eyes and got between Martin and Jeffery.

“Martin sit down!” Victor pushed him back, knocking him off his feet into the couch. “We’re here to help you, but you need to tell us everything!” Jeffery shouted backing away from Victor’s intervention. ”Who the fuck is this any way!? I’m gonna sue you AND the city!” Martin shouted, leaping up, pointing at Jeffery. “I want my lawyer present!” “I’m the man who’s gonna save your fiancé’s boy.” Jeffery replied sternly. “IF you let me.” Martin took a deep breath. “I want my lawyer.” “You only need a lawyer if you talk to a cop.” Victor smiled passing Jeffery his phone. “I’ll be outside until you’re done. Don’t kill this one ok?” He walked down the corridor nonchalantly. Martin looked at Victor, then looked at Jeffery confused. “I’m not a cop Mr. Swanson, I’m a K&R specialist.” Jeffery pulled the right side of his jacket, showing his HK USP, in a three-o'clock position inside the waistband holster, but no badge. “Everything you tell ME is confidential, and will NOT be used against you in a court of law, but if you’ve messed up, you’ll need to come clean. Every detail helps my investigation and the more you impede it, the less likely we’ll find Tyler alive.”

Jeffery clenched his fists. Lauren walked out of the bedroom, staring at Martin infuriated. Martin’s shoulders dropped, face frowned, and overall demeanor changed. No longer was he looking to fight, he now was using every ounce of strength just to keep from dropping to his knees with guilt. Jeffery looked down at Victor’s phone, Jaime Williamson’s police record in blue and white colors with a mugshot from when he was a teenager back in the early 2000s. He browsed the page, occasionally looking up at the domestic stare down between Martin and Lauren. He sarcastically wanted to speak up with a “well?” to move things along but instead he’d rather have a proverbial “knife” to cut the tension. Jaimie didn’t have much of a record; little misdemeanors here and there. Under “known associates” was his more criminally-hardened brother Cyrus Williamson, a.k.a. T-Bone, a.k.a. Muhammad Abdul Hamar, a.k.a. Charles Williamson III. His aliases changed about as often as an egotistical hip hop artist’s title; though his creativity was violence and drug smuggling rather than rhythm and lyrics. “It’s a small world after all.” He already knew his usual location, his mother’s tavern in Germantown.

He looked over at Lauren, approaching her slowly, blocking her line of sight from Martin. He frowned, raised his eyebrows, and took a deep breath. “Miss. Bloom I swear to you that you’ll see Tyler again.” He reached into his right jacket pocket, gently grabbed her right hand with his left, and placed a clean folded handkerchief in the palm with his right hand. She looked down smiling gratefully at the gesture, the daggers in her eyes subsided as she gave a short laugh. “I didn’t know anyone still carried these.” He glanced back at Martin then guided her away into the kitchenette. “I didn’t know I had it either, it must have come with the jacket.” Jeffery replied jokingly patting around the pockets for other trinkets. It was just part of shtick to alleviate anxiety. He lifted her chin up and looked into her wet green eyes. “You WILL see Tyler again, and I swear to God if anyone...” Jeffery looked over at Martin. “ANYONE. Gets in the way of that...” He looked back in Laura’s eyes. “They will feel pain, I promise, but certainly nothing like what you’re feeling now.” There was not an ounce of flare or falsity in his eyes, with small tears developing in both of his ducts as well. “No weapon has that kind of power.” Lauren slowly nodded in agreement; she knew what he meant. “Get back to your game Mr. Swanson and sit down!” He said aggressively to Martin, bulging his eyes and facing away from Lauren, to let him know there would be physical violence if he didn’t. “Could you show me Tyler’s room please?” He faced Lauren, now with a calmer tone and a smile.

Over the next twenty minutes Lauren showed Jeffery various toys and interests Tyler had. He had an entire shelf filled with animal books and magazines. Almost all of them marked with a page of information on African species. She continued to clutch the stuffed animal cheetah that was apparently his favorite. It reminded Jeffery of a time when he himself had a stuffed animal as well as the “battles” he and his siblings would have with their respective toys. It alarmed him to find out Tyler would sometimes punch his stuffed animals muttering Martin’s name, but not the cheetah. The reminiscing was bitter sweet. Every time Lauren would bring up a favorite past time of Tyler’s she would stutter then hold back crying.

“I’m sorry I have to ask you this, and you don’t need to hold back, but has Martin been abusing Tyler?” Jeffery asked while Lauren cried into her shoulder. “No. Thank God. This is the most he’s been home in weeks. He’s never here...” She looked toward the door with anger. “He doesn’t love him like his father did.” He nodded understandingly and sighed. He sucked in the emotion with a clearing of the throat and left her be. “You’ll see your son by tonight Miss. Bloom. I just need you to stay strong.”

Jeffery knew there was no time to lose, taking the time to get to know what kind of kid Tyler was may have seemed like a waste of time to most people, but it for him it was motivation. He wasn’t just trying to save someone’s child; his mission was now to save a friend. He glanced at Martin disapprovingly as he stormed up the hallway. For his sake it was best that he never laid a finger on Tyler, or else Martin would never walk again. Not that Jeffery had the time to dish out that level of retribution under the current circumstances. Victor stopped him in the hall.

“Just got off the horn with the L.T, they couldn’t stall Jamie any longer. He ain’t saying anything helpful anyway.” Victor sounded more defeated at knowing Jeffery would have to head down to Germantown, wasting precious time, rather than weary of the fact no one likes to corporate with the police. “That doesn’t surprise me, the only ‘legal advice’ he gets is from his hood rat brother. I know he’ll run to momma. They always do when the law’s involved.” Jeffery said with a confident tone, smiling with glee as he exited the apartment. He was for certain he would go to her tavern to “lay low.”

TO BE CONTINUED

This isn’t the whole story because I didn’t know there was a 40,000 character limit on Reddit. Would like to get this published but not sure where to go. If there’s any interest I’ll post the rest here in a comment.

submitted by /u/Wilmore99 [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/2RNi7La

[trainingbrahs-blog]

Patched In: The Artistic Brah

The Bro Series honours a variety of bros and gives us the opportunity to get to know some of our favourite little buddies a bit better. Knowledge is power sisters and brothers!  Our fifth interview in the Bro Series is with Zoe, the stand-up-bro-turned-jits-bro, also known as the Artistic Brah.

We should probably mention that apart from being a tough blue belt that loves judo, Zoe makes amazing jiu jitsu inspired art, which we obviously asked her exactly zero questions about because we were too busy talking about gross things and Gucci Mane.  You can see Zoe’s excellent art here and here.

Vicky - Ok.  Why do you think ringworm is called ringworm?  It’s not a worm.  So why make it any grosser than athlete’s foot?

Zoe  - You know what?  I’ve thought a lot about this for the last ten days.  I’ve read every single… My first 2 pages of google, all the titles are purple because I’ve clicked on them and I really think they should change the name.  I think the history is that they used to think it was a worm because it makes that circle.  Do worms even make a circle?

V - There’s the snake that eats its tail, but that’s symbolic.

Z - So yeah, my symbolic worm disease. I honestly think if it had a different name, people would be chill about it.  I would be chill about it.

V - Right?  Athlete’s foot.  Or athlete’s circle?

Mike - That sounds like a store.

Darcie - I would shop there.

V - It’s something that happens to someone who’s fit and active.

Z - I dunno make it sound like at least not terrible.  Can you please not?  Can this please not happen to me right now?  Everything is terrible.  Why am I having ringworm too?

V - How much hair do you think you’ve lost in jiu jitsu?

Z - Not enough.  My hair’s still really puffy and big.

V - Do you lose it from the back, the front, or the side?

Z - I think it gets torn out from deep within the clump.  My hair has no back front or side.  Especially once I’ve been rolling for a bit. It’s very sweet when guys crossface me then go “oh oh oh your hair!”  But you’re already crossfacing me.  Why are you concerned about my hair?

D - That’s why I just got an undercut.  It solved all of my problems.

V - Don’t you think it’s weird when they sort of gently brush it out of the way?  They lift your head up then smooth your hair.

M - I do that to guys with long hair too.  It’s like come on, man.

V - But sometimes it’s oddly intimate, like you’re being cradled?

M - From now on, never again.  Oddly intimate with other men?  No.

V - It touches me!

M - Does it touch them too?  I’m not staring at your tender hair.

D -- Everyone should just get an undercut.

V - Yeah, we’ll talk to you again when you’re growing that thing out.

D - How do you feel about competition?

Z -  I enjoy it when I grab their lapels, but everything up to that point including the two weeks prior pretending that I’m not doing it is just very uncomfortable.  I never regret it, even if I lose miserably.  I do enjoy the excitement, even if I’m losing tremendously.  I like to be in it, I just don’t like to get there.  My mind is my problem.  I like it and I’m going to challenge myself and do no gi for my next competition.

M - ooh.

D - Does Mike know about the challenge?

M - What challenge?

Z - haha yes.  Chad told me that I should challenge Mike to no gi because I could probably take him..

M - Probably.  Challenge accepted.

D - We should market this

V - Like a superfight?

D - Yeah.  But you should get some sort of… you know.  Mike has weight and more years of jiu jitsu.

V - So like a handicap.

D - I didn’t want to use the word handicap, but yes.

M - A seven point lead?  Is that what you want?

D - I dunno a hammer or something.

V - Or like Zoe gets to do slap jiu jitsu and Mike doesn’t

M - If it’s a gun, I’m ok.  I just did firearm self defence this week.  I’ll take you on with a gun.

D - So we’ve written a lot of posts on cutting weight and not cutting weight because it’s for suckers, but tell us about the last time you made weight.

Z - Alright.  I was cocky.  Because the previous competition I was underweight because the scale at our gym was six pounds over.

D - Still is.

V - Is it really?

D - It’s over by quite a bit.

V - Thank god.

Z - So I was super cocky and was like, “I’m not gonna be careful at all.  I’m just gonna have a hamburger and onion rings the night before and I’m gonna drink coffee in the morning with four bananas.” Then I was in the car with Shannon and I was getting this feeling of “Ahh I gotta compete.”  I dunno I have a feeling.  The go to to calm my nerves is to vomit.  It works like a charm.  It relaxes me.  Honestly I’ve been vomiting to relax myself since I was like 4.  Whenever too much stress was happening I’d vomit.  Almost without warning, especially on playgrounds and stuff.  Someone would upset me or something and that was my go to.  So  I know this about myself.  So I knew.  I was like, “Shannon, I don’t know if you have to pull over when we’re driving but I’m gonna have to throw up soon.”  She was like, “no problem.” Anyway we found parking and I knew it.  Shannon had walked off to put money in the meter and I knew it.  I felt it.  But the vomit doesn’t just come out.  I have to like force it out.  It’s just that sick feeling in my stomach so it’s just like “blech.”  It’s really, really hoarse and forced but I have to expel something.

M - Oh my god, your face.

Z - I only had like 4 bananas and two cups of coffee.

V - That’s a lot of bananas.

Z - So I was in the parking lot and I was kind of embarrassed because there were a bunch of construction guys having lunch so I was trying to hide, retching behind a tree at BCIT and my stomach wasn’t full enough so it was just like that gooey stomach acid bile. But, I managed to throw up my coffee.  Then Shannon told me I didn’t look so great, but I was good to go.  So then I’m waiting for my fight and I thought “oh I might as well weigh myself” and then I step on the scale and I was just so confident.  Like you know, I’ve done this before.  TWICE already.  So I got on the scale and then I looked at the guy’s face and he was like, “ohhhhh you’re at the limit” and I was 141.5.  I was at the cut off.  And I was like “oh no, thank god I threw up in the parking lot, otherwise I would’ve missed weight!” So I scraped by and I learned a hard lesson that I shouldn’t eat junk food 12 hours before I fight.  And to keep my retching vomit to a minimum.

V - Zoe, I will never forget you at the in-house competition.

Z - What the one I did after two weeks?

D - Yeah, that’s why we decided we were going to adopt you.  Well that and because you came out dancing after.

V - Yeah, you showed up for two weeks, we barely even knew who you were and you had the most laser focused insane maniac look on your face and you just destroyed everybody.  It was terrifying.  And kind of amazing.

Z - Well thank you, also I really don’t remember it.  I remember Rodrigo had said “Zoe, it’s ok.  Two weeks.  Whatever just do it.” and I said “well you know what, ok.”  My mindset like that works for me sometimes, when I’m almost naive to what is actually happening or if I don’t really understand the situation, I just usually say yes and I usually have a really good experience from it.  I remember when I woke up that morning, it was about 10:30 and I said “oh yeah, I’m about to do this competition at 11:30” and I didn’t even know what that meant.  So the sense of relaxation and chill that I had was the best that I ever felt in terms of thinking about going to compete.  I didn’t know what I was doing and now when I watch white belts I’m like, “Is that what I was doing?”

V - Yeah, you had no chill.  It was amazing though.  Really.  You just came out of nowhere and just destroyed.  So you’ve been working at the gym for a while now.  What’s the grossest thing that you’ve found there?

Z -  Well today I found a bandaid on the wall.

V - That’s nothing.

Z - I know that’s nothing.  Mike handed me a bag of vomit once.  I said, “I’m not touching that without gloves” and he’s like, “Oh that’s a good idea.”

M - It really stunk too.  It’s like thick foamy.  A guy was like, “My daughter threw up.” It was me and Zoe only.  We were way overwhelmed with kids and one kid barfed.  It was just a little girl. She was 3 or 4, but the amount of throw up that came out of her was like the size of her.  I was looking at her and looking at it… and looking at her.  It didn’t match up.  That’s an adult barf.  So I brought the garbage can and I was like, “How are we gonna navigate this?” So I swept it all up and it was all over the edge of the bag and my hands and Zoe was just like, “No fucking way.  GLOVES.”

Z - Mike, you know that’s a biohazard.  You need to not pick vomit up with your hands.  That’s the one that comes to mind but honest to god, I’m disgusted by people everyday.  

V - If you had to tattoo something on your face what would it be?

Z - uhhh my… That’s a good question

V - Is it?

Z - I would have to research more.  Actually it would probably be something… I was going to say decorative.  I dunno I couldn’t go full ice cream cone.

M - Gucci Mane?  It’s Gucci that has that right?

V - That’s a thing?  He has an ice cream?

M - It’s the whole side of his head.

V - Shut up.

D - I’m so glad we get to put a picture of Gucci Mane on the blog.

V - I don’t understand.  Are these spikes coming out of the ice cream cone as well?  Seriously.  Can somebody look up why?  There’s gotta be some meaning behind that.

Z - It’s because he always says ice cold.

V - Ok but you could do like an ice cube.

Z - Ice Cube is taken.

M - He’s the ice cream man.  It’s because he chooses to live his life cool as ice.

V - That’s stupid.  It’s an ice cream cone on his face.

D - Ok let’s go straight to Interview Sharktank.  It’s one minute.  I think Brancao still holds the title.  He answered like 35 questions or something ridiculous.

V - I still think we stopped timing him.

D - We’ll have to look it up.  Anyway, we’re not going to ask you what your walkout song is because we already know from Manuel’s birthday party.

V - for the record it is…

Z - Oh for the record, it’s Kate Bush, Running Up That Hill

D - So if you were practicing for sharktank, we’re not going to ask that.

V - Practice?  That’s how Brancao beat everybody.  And go…

D - Favorite sub?

Z - What?... Favorite?  I was gonna say turkey!  

M - Go!  Next question!

D - Favorite Subway sub!

Z - I said!  It’s turkey!

D - What’s Chad’s walk out song

Z - Oh no.  A Handsome Man?

D - Gi or no gi?

Z - No gi

V - REALLY.

D - Best thing about jiu jitsu?

Z - Everything

D - Worst thing about jiu jitsu?

Z - Everything!

D - Broken nose or broken toe?

Z - Both.

D - Name a country that starts with A.

Z - America

D - Staph or ringworm?

Z - Ringworm

D - Cher or Dolly Parton?

Z - Cher

D - Best take down.

Z - Osoto gari

D - Give us your favorite Louis quote

Z - Oh my god.

V - done!

D - Oh I wanted to hear it.

V - Does Louis have quotes?

D - “You can’t arm drag me!  I’m already sitting down!”

M - “You should’ve cut that big toenail, that’s gross” [for the full story, see Patched in- the Original bro]

11 questions.  Aaaaaaaaaaaand stilllllllll Brancao remains the Interview Sharktank champion.  Thanks for sitting down with us, Zoe.