#couldn’t fit all the guys from the quiz unfortunately

[whitemenfight]

anyone else think the white men from that quiz should fight to the death

[unfortunatelysirius]

Wicked Charm, What’s Your Patronus? | Remus Lupin, Marauders Era

「 ❁ 」PROMPT 「 ❁ 」

One day in Defense, Professor Boomstick offers whoever can produce a corporeal Patronus an Outstanding on the next essay as well as an out on a test. When Y/N shockingly produces a wolf Patronus, well… you can assume the rest.

「 ❁ 」AUTHOR’S NOTE 「 ❁ 」

Why did I name a guy Boomstick? Because that word is fucking hilarious to me THAT’S WHY (also this sucks ass but tbh I'm just going with the flow nowadays whatever comes out comes the f out whether it’s shit or not) and for anyone who wants to get technical, believe me i already know what u will say

      DEFENSE WAS Y/N L/N’S last class of every Friday and as of late, the only class she fervently dreaded. It was a mix of students from different Houses but dominated by Gryffindors. Three of the infamous sixth-year Gryffindor circle, James Potter, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin, were in there, each of the blokes gifted with a wand. Y/N didn’t pay them much mind at the start of the year but after a few months of mingling and getting to know her classmates, she had developed somewhat of an acquaintanceship with the boys, perhaps even a friendship. She was one of the other few Gryffindors in the room and after she particularly chewed out one of the Ravenclaws feet from the classroom for ruining her perfect attendance record (allegedly, the clumsy arse caused her a three-day sentence in the Hospital Wing) James and Sirius decided she had enough style and substance (“Marauder flair,” they called it) to invite her into their gang.

      It was as unenticing on the inside as it was from a feet-on-the-ground outsider’s perspective. Y/N wasn’t very adventurous. She was miles away from Lily’s singlehanded definition of “studious”, but still a pretty mellow person, preferring to keep to predetermined routes and undetected on radars. She was an extrovert with introverted tendencies, mostly appearing at times with people who differed in lifestyle. Like James and Sirius, two peas in a pod.

      Remus Lupin was much less of a firecracker inches from popping, his voice tampered and quiet, his disposition ripe with premature wisdom. Y/N found him likeable. Almost too likable—a noticeable kind of fancy that only prats would fail to see. Then that fancy became more; she didn’t remember how.

      This was open to judgment from the gods, who could choose to interfere or leave Y/N’s recent change of heart alone.

      Unfortunately for her with this newfound friendship and growing fancy, James and Sirius had enough arrogance to fit the Greek gods from ancient myth…

      Zeus and Poseidon, at least. Maybe even Aphrodite, the bloody matchmakers. 

-

      Professor Boomstick, a stout, ashen man who oftentimes went into tangents about how the Muggle Army was a lousy old group of incompetent twats, liked challenges. He liked challenges for his students, specifically. He also liked favoritism and had yet to liken any students to his old pub buddies. Today Y/N and the Marauders all went to class expecting a test, but Professor Boomstick was already there waiting—and the room was empty of desks. Y/N stopped in her tracks, feeling Remus’s tall, lean frame smack into her backside. He apologized but she ignored him, sweeping her gaze across the floor. A group of students who found themselves there before her were huddling in a corner, nervous as sheep waiting to be sheered.  

      Y/N’s steps held an edge... She couldn’t deny she herself was nervous.

“Damn the test,” Professor Boomstick barked suddenly, catching Y/N’s bewildered eyes and holding them hostage. She swallowed hard. Surprises were not fun to her; she hated them with a passion. This old fart was just an arse to be incorporating one in place of a test on the history of Patronuses and Animagi she spent eons studying for. “We’ll see what you’re made of today without wasting parchment, can’t read your writin’ anyhow.”

      “What exactly are we doing?” a long-faced, petite-nosed girl asked.

      Professor Boomstick raised his wand and closed the door behind Y/N and the Marauders, throwing them further into the room. Y/N felt Remus’s arm brush her side and heat enveloped her from head to stomach.  Glaring at Professor Boomstick, they all walked to stand with the other students, keeping a close eye on the crazy man they all called their teacher. Thank Merlin Defense professors never lasted.  

      “For any of you kids that can produce me a corporeal Patronus, I won’t just give ye bonus,” Professor Boomstick said, smirking at the huddle of students. “Ya got an essay due two weeks time on endangered species of the Wizarding World and that test we had scheduled today’s rescheduled for Monday. I’ll give any of ya who give me what I want a freebie on the quiz—and an automatic Outstanding on the essay. Still gotta turn three pages in though.”

      The huddle of students struck up an excited exchange of whispers before going abruptly silent. Patronuses? That was hard-level shit and sparingly learned outside of class lessons due to its difficulty. Disappointment shuttered down the spines of each student, one at a time, as they all came to the same conclusion: this was a waste of time.

      “What? None of ya have even tried?” Professor Boomstick demanded, bushy white eyebrows furrowing in the middle of his forehead. “May be a charm, but it could save yer life someday. All it takes is one loose Dementor and BOOM! Your soul’s been sucked right outta ya.”

      Everyone flinched, some horrified at the sheer mention of Dementors. Professor Boomstick was right. No one really knew Patronuses and their uses. Advanced magic like that was too extensive, too dueling of a task.

      Professor Boomstick was getting frustrated and impatient, glaring at each student individually. Crazy old man.

Y/N L/N nervously glanced at her classmates, mostly the marauding group of boys she befriended, before she stepped out of the huddle. All eyes automatically went to her.

      James and Sirius were (in their opinion, rightfully) shocked she had this information under her belt the entire time—sitting on it, dwelling on it, never admitting to it where her friends were concerned. The two of them didn’t have any concept of privacy, both too invasive to be capable of secrets; Remus was nowhere near similar. Secrets were a part of his nature, only for the benefit of others and never his. If anyone could understand Y/N’s need to keep something like this close to her chest, it was Remus. Though, this wasn’t much of a secret. They all knew Y/N’s history and domestic life.

      Remus glanced at her, an unreadable expression on his face, but her back was turned to him. She could feel everyone looking at her and picking out a single pair of eyes was too strenuous a task.

      “Get on with it, L/N,” Professor Boomstick demanded.

      “Okay, sir,” Y/N said. She would have never dared do this, but she was drowning in coursework from her other classes—any further work and she’d lose sleep, her grades suffering for it. Her mouth opened, inhaling a deep breath she braced.

      Patronus charms were a complicated, beautiful species of magic. Arduous and dogging, it took someone particularly skilled to produce one—and you had to conjure one of your best memories, one of pure joy and exhilaration. Not just happiness, as one of Y/N’s old mentors incorrectly told her once upon a time. Y/N came from a family always preparing for the worst and through the years as the likelihood of a war reached its peak, her parents grew increasingly paranoid and enrolled her in a summer mentorship program as a precaution. She learned the Patronus charm from an eccentric man named Ellis Hawking.

      Y/N’s happiest memory, the one that gave her pure, unadulterated joy, was when she was twelve and got to see her new baby sister.

      “Expecto Patronum,” Y/N said when an incandescent smile reached her lips. All concentration went into her wand when she pointed. Her wand felt like it thrummed under her fingertips and she targeted the air just north of herself, where no one was in her line of sight.

      Everyone behind her gasped when a shot of pure light emitted from her wand’s end, something growing larger as it left. Tendrils of silver and white swept the floor, coiling to become a translucent shape. The shape growled noiselessly, galloping on the ground like a wolf. It was a wolf. Majestic and sleek, making a turn to come running back at the caster herself—polarizing white eyes staring right into hers. Ears pinned back and slivers of silver hair standing on edge. All until it disappeared into the same device that made it. Creation and destruction, two separate words that meant the same: an inevitable, unavoidable cycle.  

      Y/N’s Patronus was last a dolphin when she first learned how to cast, not a wolf.

      Her Patronus had changed.

      “Bravo, bloody Hell—bravo, girl!” Professor Boomstick clapped enthusiastically. “For sure you’re gettin’ in my good graces rest of this here year. You’ve gotta be one hell of a witch casting a corporeal Patronus at sixteen! Bloody—”

      Y/N stared down at her wand, completely bewildered.

      Why did it change?

-

      James glanced over at Sirius while Y/N was distracted, a grin breaking his shocked composure. Neither he, Sirius, or Remus expected that; while Remus was busy frozen and possibly panicking himself into early gray hairs, James was bursting on the inside from excitement. Sirius shared a similar expression.

      “Looks like little Y/N’s in love with Moony,” he hissed under his breath, failing to lose his grin. “That’s gotta be it. I’ve read on this before.”

      Sirius nodded, a faux solemnness combatting the electric shock darting around like butterflies on his face. “After General Prat’s done,” he said, and the two nodded like soldiers heading to war.

-

      When no one other than Y/N could even produce an incorporeal Patronus, Professor Boomstick disappointedly released them—promising a nervous Y/N not to worry about the test or upcoming essay. James and Sirius automatically attacked at the last nameless student’s retreat, Remus trailing his two mates like a left-behind dog.

      Sirius’s eyes zeroed in on Y/N’s wrist, where a charm bracelet dangled. It was covered in expensive-looking charms, one of engraved letters, a wand, a little wolf.

Whoa, cauldron’s bearings. There was a bloody wolf charm! What were the odds?

      “Wicked charm,” Sirius said through a wink. Y/N’s eyes flickered between the two blokes then at her charm bracelet, not at all soothed in their presence. Still struggling to understand why her Patronus would be different, the two twats harassing her wasn’t desirable—especially since they looked like they did while meddling. Pranking. Causing mischief. Y/N made it clear ages ago she wouldn’t react kindly if they decided to fuck around with her the way they did with the rest of the Hogwarts student body. She liked her comfort bubble how it was, unperforated by buffoons best left six feet away. “Wolves. Did you get it to match your Patronus?”

      Y/N bit her lip. “Well, actually—"

      “Ah, Padfoot, obviously that wouldn’t be the case,” James said, slinging an arm around his mate’s shoulder. “She got it because it makes her think of a certain someone.”

      “Who would I even think of? You guys are such prats,” Y/N said indignantly, narrowing her eyes now. Seriously, what were they getting at? They didn’t know anything, just perfectly well how drive anyone and everyone up the bloody wall. They’d drive a sane man mad!

      “James, Sirius, don’t,” Remus said softly, appearing from behind. His eyes were wide with alarm, meeting Y/N’s at her sharp twist. He gulped at the annoyance in hers; James and Sirius had already done their damage. Idiots, they were.

      “See, Y/N, I don’t think your Patronus has always been a wolf,” Sirius went on, pretending like neither Y/N nor Remus spoke in the first place. “Am I wrong?”

      Y/N warily said, “No…”

      “Did you know Patronuses can change to be complementary of their lovers’?” Sirius grinned obnoxiously. He shrugged his shoulders and nudged Y/N with one of his hands. “Just a thought. Maybe you fancy somebody, love ‘em.”

      Y/N’s eyes widened and involuntarily, they looked at where Remus was standing. Remus froze again.

      “We’ll leave you to it,” James said hastily, still grinning.

      The bespectacled boy quickly lassoed Sirius around the neck and guided him to the door, calling to Remus that they’d be back in their dorm by the time he finished.

      Remus awkwardly glanced over at Professor Boomstick. The man was just standing by his desk, drinking out of a flask, presumably waiting for his next class. Y/N sighed and unconsciously laced her fingers into Remus’s, dragging him away from their crazy-ass professor.

      Once outside, Y/N faced Remus. “Is your Patronus a wolf?” she asked quietly, hurriedly. She didn’t want anyone to overhear, though the only likely soul left in distance was Peeves.

      Remus looked at the ground. “Yes,” he reluctantly told her. He and the Marauders had yet to let her in on his furry little secret.

      “Oh,” Y/N said and went silent. It’s not that she didn’t want to be in love with Remus, she just didn’t understand why she could have been so stupid to cast her Patronus in front of the entire class without contemplating her feelings for Remus first. Especially with prior knowledge that a wolf Patronus implied the chance of the charm caster being a werewolf. Students from the class would be beside themselves with rumors of Y/N being a werewolf herself.

      As long as it wasn’t Remus being investigated.

      “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, peeking up at her.

      Y/N rolled her eyes. “Remus, why are you apologizing? Because of what animal the charm was? I’m not a bloody idiot. I know. Good thing I’m the caster, no one else, right?”

      “Why would you like me, let alone love me?” Remus asked. “I don’t understand. I’m—”

      “No, don’t even say it,” Y/N said, meeting his gaze. She reached forward and held his shoulders. “You’re handsome, funny, and intelligent. The least mad of any bloke I’ve seen. That’s all that matters to me.”

      The heels of her feet lifted off the ground so she could peck his cheek. Remus flushed red and flinched back, not having expected any sort of affection—but Y/N deliberately ignored his confusion. She snorted and turned to leave.

      Remus stood processing the unlikely events.

Y/N didn’t hear corresponding footsteps and stopped walking herself. “I hope you at least somewhat like me,” she said over her shoulder. “Else, that’d be one bloody embarrassing confession.”

Oh.

Remus’s shoes squeaked when he jogged to catch up. With his cheeks still aflame, Y/N hoped that meant he did, in fact, reciprocate.

I might need to do something about everyone seeing my Patronus, Y/N thought. Stupid Hogwarts and its plethora of assholes waiting for worthy gossip.

She was sure James and Sirius wouldn’t mind Obliviating the entire school for her and Remus. The idiots did supposedly do anything for their friends. 

[ichika27]

Mairimashita! Iruma-kun s2 ep9

I just wanna point out that the last scene on the OP changed. It used to be like, a red curtain background but now it’s in front of Royal One with the rest of the class.

Heyo! New episode today.

*record scratch*

*freeze frame*

This is our protagonist, Iruma. You must be wondering why he looks like he’s dying on a pile of schoolwork. Well, we have to go back a bit to see how this came to be.

(Sorry, I can’t resist making this joke when the show kinda started the episode like that.)

After Iruma’s evil cycle event, Azz and Clara decide to cling to him so they’d know if anything is wrong next time. Everyone tried prying them off to no avail.

Sabnock even offered Clara a piggyback! I’m glad that they’re acknowledging that this happens lol. It’s just a little thing on the other episodes (mostly in season 1, I believe) but at least we know Sabnock is okay with it.

Since nothing they did could make the two let go of Iruma, they decided they’d all join in instead! It’s so cute!! Kalego-sensei comes in to tell them some news though:

The Apocalypse, aka Summer Vacation is coming which is awesome and everyone is super excited!

The exams come first before that which causes the class to panic. Failure means remedial classes.

I guess it’s time for the “Demon School” part of the title to be on the spotlight. Time to study!

Iruma is one of those who are worried because he’s never had to study properly before (what with all the jobs he does and his parents being awful). He can also read the demon world’s language due to magic he was given by his grandpa but it doesn’t mean he could understand what he’s reading about.

Clara shows off her own exam results and while they are pretty bad, they at least exceeded the 10 point mark Iruma couldn’t even get to and this shocks Iruma. Clara further rubs it in his face by asking him to call her “Nee-san” or “Sensei”.

Azz-kun’s vision from before!

Asmodeus doesn’t think lowly of Iruma cause of this set back. Instead, he encourages Iruma and tells him that they could just study for it. Asmodeus offers his help in tutoring Iruma. One of the rewards of getting high grades is rank advancement and if they could do it together, all three of them could totally beat this test! (punishment of failing is demotion though which worried Iruma).

Oh and Ameri’s stalker needed to be somewhere where he could be watched over without him bothering the student council so he was dumped in Iruma’s battler. Iruma, being the nice guy that he is, couldn’t refuse and so they’re stuck with this guy.

Moving on! Ali-san is also worried. He was only able to talk and have proper consciousness when Iruma ranked up. Who knows what will happen when he gets demoted! Ali-san asks if Iruma could get high grades but Iruma answers that he could probably do enough to pass and not fail (which I can relate to cause all I could strive for in my school days were passing grades lol).

Iruma has a lot of expectations on his back right now. And so, that’s why he’s been studying his ass off.

The rest of the class is trying very hard to study as well since failure meant they’d have their summer vacation screwed up which is bad.

The main trio does their own studying too with Azz trying to gauge how much Iruma knows so they’d know where to start. The next scenes are Iruma and Clara competing in a little quiz with parodies of different popular game shows being their setting. Iruma gets no point at all while Clara gets 2.

Just when all hope seems lost.

One of the books move on their own and quizzes Iruma on it’s contents (just the first chapter apparently) and all of the questions seem to have to do with the human world or something and Iruma, being human, gets it all correctly.

Everyone praises Iruma for this accomplishment and since this is the first time he’s experiences such a thing, this gives him a little ego boost.

Asmodeus suggest that maybe they should take the Fantastical Animal studies since Iruma is good at it and that they could start focusing on that first. Iruma happily accepts.

Unfortunately, the usual teacher isn’t available and so they have this dangerous seeming guy instead. He’s also the guy who made the book that quizzed Iruma earlier.

--

This episode feels a bit more slice-of-life-ish due to how they’re focusing on studying at the moment. Indeed it’s important and Kalego-sensei points out they have to do well since they’re now using the Royal One classroom.

I was unable to take a screenshot of it but Grandpa Sullivan actually offered to help Iruma by either giving him the test answers or making the test easier (both which he could do since he’s the school principal) but before Iruma could even answer, Opera points out that helping Iruma that way wouldn’t be good for the boy in the long run. And also, Opera believes Iruma could pass it on his own which puts a little extra pressure on Iruma. I do believe that if Opera never said anything, Iruma would have declines on his own.

There’s a new addition to the Magic Tools Battler: Schnare Eligos. He doesn’t seem to have a big role at the moment though. Ameri mentions to Iruma that since the guy could make potions and such on his own that he could fit in the battler anyways. His name is added to the little list on the wall and along with him, there’s five names on there. They haven’t taken off Kiriwo-senpai’s and probably never would since Iruma believes their senpai would come back one day.

Not sure how long this little arc is gonna be but people on the comment section is already talking about a festival arc and a park arc. Hopefully the anime could cover the stuff that are exciting (we’re close to the season’s halfway point!).

Thanks for reading this far!

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, cor321!

For @cor321 Hiiii! I really hope you like this story, I tried to incorporate some tropes you mentioned. I enjoyed writing this for you :) Happy holidays!

Read On AO3

*****

Misery ²

The door opened, and in stumbled Alec Lightwood’s roommate, Magnus Bane, with his date– both giggling and cheeks pink, nuzzling each other’s noses, both smelling of alcohol.

From his desk on the far right side of the room, Alec looked up from the textbook he was reading.  He rolled his eyes and sighed.  What was this, the weekend?

No, it was only Wednesday, with classes tomorrow.

In fact, he was trying to read up for a quiz tomorrow.  Not to be subject to this racket…

No doubt they had just come from one of the bars on the edge of campus.  Maybe Magnus had even picked his date up tonight, as Alec didn’t recognize him.

It was an ongoing pattern with Magnus to hit up the bars nearby, and then either come back alone, slightly giggly from being buzzed, or with his latest hookup – as it was, Alec was starting to lose track of Magnus’s ever shifting schedule.  As a creature of habit, this made Alec’s head spin.

Magnus and his date finally walked into the room and came face to face with Alec.

And of course Magnus was dressed to the nines, even overly so, Alec noted, scrutinizing his outfit from head to toe.  Dark black hair done up in a quiff with dark red highlights, eyes lined with red and black liner, then clad in his form fitting maroon racer leather jacket, white tee, and slim black pants and low ankle boots.

Not to mention the number of silver necklaces adorning his neck and chest.

The longer Alec looked at him, he felt a slight tightness in his chest, a feeling that he wasn’t sure he was ready to reconcile within himself.

He turned away, feeling slightly flustered.

“Oh, you’re home,” Magnus said distractedly.

“Well, I’ve only been sitting here all night, and I was here when you first opened the door,” Alec stated dryly.  “And you only just noticed me over here, now? But, oh I see -- you were otherwise preoccupied…”  

He nodded at Magnus’s date, who now looked like he was attempting to shrink into the background.  He was clearly uncomfortable about the tension between the two roommates.

“By the way, he has a name. Elias,” Magnus stated.  “And he’s a great guy.”

“And…it’s also Wednesday night, and some of us still have classes the next morning,” Alec pointed out.

“Hey, Magnus,” Elias interjected, sounding incredibly uncomfortable, “Maybe he’s got a point. There are classes tomorrow still. How about we go out Friday night instead?”

Magnus whirled around to face his date.  “Wait, you’re leaving?” he huffed.

Elias gestured between them.  “There’s obviously something here that I shouldn’t get in the middle of.  It’s okay,” he said.

Magnus, however, had already turned back toward Alec, and the two roommates were glaring at one another like no one’s business.

“Uh, okay.  I’m leaving,” Elias said to no one as he quickly left.

The silence that followed his departure was jarring, and the temperature in the room had suddenly dropped to subzero with the way the roommates were locked in a glaring contest.  Neither looked away.

Then in the next minute, Alec just rolled his eyes and sighed, sitting back down, and trying again to concentrate on his books.

Magnus huffed in turn, as he went to his side of the room.  He opened up his mini-refrigerator, taking out a beer and taking a swig.

“Hey, shouldn’t you slow down?  You just got back from the bar, didn’t you?”  a snide voice said from the other side of the desk.

If Magnus’s eyes were laser guns, they would have burned a hole through the back of the desk.

Shut up, Magnus thought, crossly, as he tossed back the rest of the beer.

************

It was just Alec’s luck to end up having Magnus as his roommate in his junior year of college.  

Alec had initially planned to move into a double with his brother, Jace.  But then Jace had accepted an offer to another university at the last minute.

When Alec had found that out, he had groaned.

Now he was stuck with a double room, whereas he could have just applied for a single room to begin with!

The idea of having to share a room with a stranger was bad enough, especially with any habits they would bring about them.

Not that Alec was completely anal regarding his habits.

But he certainly had his share of bad experiences in the past.

Was it too much to ask to keep a room clean, no dishes in the sink, and everything in their rightful place?

Or having quiet hours when they should be quiet?

From past history, his roommates tended to fall short of these ideals within a short period of time, and it would always end up in a fight between them.

He was just not a roommate type of person.  Hell, he just wasn’t a people type of person.  He just preferred his own space above all else.

Alec didn’t think that was too much to ask.

As the time grew near, he eventually became more accepting of the idea of having a dormmate, as there was really nothing he could do about it.  So why fight it?

He even got to the point where he had nearly convinced himself that most people were reasonable and able to maintain mutual consideration and respect…

But that was before Magnus Bane, his would-be roommate, barged through the door, his luggage and belongings falling from his arms.  Walking in, he all but collapsed on the common area couch.

“Oh my god,” Magnus complained, bringing one hand to his forehead in dramatic fashion, ”That trek up  four flights of stairs was killer, why couldn’t they have given us an option to select ground floor?”  Then came a whole slew of moans and lamenting.

Alec just stared at this spectacle, his mouth dropping open, as his brain couldn’t even believe that anyone could be this dramatic.

He cleared his throat.  “Uh, where I’m from, most people would say hi to their new roommate and shake hands,” he offered in a sardonic tone of voice.

That made Magnus stop his dramatics, as he turned.

The surprise on his face made it clear that he definitely hadn’t noticed Alec until then.  

Alec wasn’t really surprised by that. Not many noticed him outright. There really wasn’t all that much to notice.  Anyway, it didn’t bother Alec too much, as he preferred not to be in the spotlight anyway.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Magnus said, suddenly affecting a dulcet tone of voice.  It was very musical, low, and sweet. As he looked directly at Alec, his brown eyes with glints of gold dilated as he surveyed Alec.  “I’m Magnus.  Magnus Bane.  I guess I’m your new roommate.”

His whole demeanor – along with his necklaces, crisp form-fitting leather jacket and black pants, and that silver earcuff on his left ear, not to mention his expertly lined black and silver eyelids – was enough to throw Alec off his regular standoffish-whatever type of attitude when acknowledging someone.

Alec, for once, was tongue-tied.  He didn’t know how to act…

“Ah, hello,” he managed, his throat dry.  What was this?  Why was his heart suddenly pounding?

He didn’t like this feeling at all.  But, actually, he had no idea what this feeling was.

Bottom line, he was uncomfortable.

He was … breathless, nervous.  He was…UGH.  HE DISLIKED THIS FEELING.

Yea, that must be it.  There was something off about this.

He decided, right then and there, that he did not like his new roommate for making him feel like this.

“I’m Alec.  Alec Lightwood,” he continued, finding it easier to find his voice, now that he had resolved his inner feelings in the meantime. “You have your space, and I have mine.  As long as we mind ourselves and give consideration to one another, things should be fine.”

Magnus raised an eyebrow upon receiving Alec’s words.  

Oh, is this how it is? he thought.  A smile crept across his face.

“So,” he said, using his lowest purr while looking at Alec under lowered lashes., “Alec, eh?  Is that short for Alexander?”

Wow, even just attempting this line on this guy was making him nauseous.  Funny, how he would be motivated to use this line on others.  But for some reason, he just felt like he wanted to annoy the shit out of this guy…

The guy’s eyebrows shot up, clearly taken aback by his response.

“Uh…” the guy said.  “Yea, actually it is.  But no one calls me that.  It’s just Alec…”

Magnus smirked.  “Alexander, it is,” he said flippantly.  Then bit back a grin as the guy scowled.

“Suit yourself,” Alec said curtly.  “It doesn’t matter to me.  Anyway, I already picked the right side, so the left side’s yours.”  He gestured briefly to the bed, desk and space to the left to him.  And with that, he retreated behind his desk, leaving Magnus just standing there, looking after him with his mouth falling half-open, and indignant.

The nerve!  Boy, that guy’s stiff as hell, he thought, starting to get annoyed.

As far as he was concerned, it was a waste of time to be uptight.  Wasn’t it much easier just to be more open and accepting about things?  Why so angry, dude?

He shook his head in disbelief.  But then he sighed.

This was his room assignment and roommate for this school year.  Unfortunately, there were no other rooms available.  He would just make do with this situation – at least until the next signup, which was in June.

He just prayed that it wouldn’t be too difficult living with Alec Lightwood.

His roommate continued to survey him, his eyes lingering upon his face which registered something akin to confusion – probably due to the duo-colored eyeliner he was wearing.  Then he shook his head, huffed, and turned to walk back into his space.

Magnus was left with mixed feelings, standing there.

Oh well, he thought, so much for the welcome brigade.  Great first day…

Such a shame, Magnus couldn’t help thinking as his thoughts went back to his roommate.  So stuck up.  But attractive.

Definitely attractive.  Such nice hazel eyes, thick dark hair, and great build. Truthfully, he was totally Magnus’s type.

It was just too bad that he was stuck-up and annoying.  And the way Alec had balked at his face, with his makeup and eyeliner, he probably also “didn’t approve of alternative lifestyles.”  But oh well, this was something Magnus was used to, ever since he himself had come out during middle school, and facing those with dissenting opinions.  Yea, they could all go to hell for all he cared.  He was proud of himself and his lifestyle; and determined to have a great year at school.

Neither a crappy person nor a bad situation could take that away from him…

******************

Months later…

Magnus hugged his books to his chest, as he climbed the stairs of his dorm building, huffing and puffing when he finally reached his floor.  Again he cursed inwardly at the three flights of stairs he had to climb, just to get to his room.

Then again, his brain suggested helpfully, you didn’t really need to wear your stiletto boots today, did you?  Just because that guy in lab was cute…

Oh be quiet, Magnus thought, wrinkling his nose.

As he approached his dorm room, another thought popped up in his head.

God, he hoped Alec wasn’t back yet.  Or, maybe he hoped that he was there?  Anyway, he was confused enough about him as it was.  Today had also been his long day, and he was exhausted.

He didn’t know if he had the strength within him to endure something unexpected…

For the life of him, he couldn’t figure Alec out….

And, usually, Magnus was pretty good at those things…

…………………..

Ever since that first day, it had been nothing but snarkiness from Alec.  Even when they were across the room from one another, somehow Magnus could still imagine the snideness being projected toward him by Alec.

Right against his back, like some stinging sixth sense, as if laser beams were shooting straight at him.

This animosity was getting ridiculous.

Magnus’s thoughts briefly went to the last guy he’d been seeing,  Elias, which was actually just under two month ago.

Unlike others, Elias had tolerated Alec being around, even with him being something awful.

After a while, Alec had even grunted a sullen “Hello” or even a small wave whenever Magnus had brought Elias  over to hang out.

That was uncharacteristically responsive for Alec, and Magnus was still weirded out by it.

Anyway, the thing with Elias had ended after maybe two weeks or so.

Since then, Magnus had not brought anyone back to the room.  He hadn’t wanted anyone else to encounter how weird Alec could get at times…

And could someone be more nitpicky about things?  For instance, he left one plate lying around in the sink one night a few weeks ago, and Alec had been ready to tear his head off.

Well, okay, he admitted, perhaps it was more than just one plate.

Maybe a few plates…and maybe even much more than that.

His mind went back to two days ago, when he had inadvertently hosted an impromptu dinner party for his three study buddies that he had brought over to go over notes for his History midterm.

Two of them, who had walked back with Magnus, had casually suggested getting carryout from the local Chinese restaurant since it was getting close to dinnertime.  That had seemed quite reasonable to Magnus.

And so they had.

The third guy, Marcus, who had come about an hour later, carrying two bottles of wine --- well Magnus hadn’t asked him to do so.

Before long, they were all eating, and studying, and having a light glass of wine – and it was actually kinda odd, but it was working.  They were actually getting some studying done, and yet somehow it had become very much a dinner party – in Magnus’s room.

Things were going great.

And then the key turned in the lock. Magnus froze, as his roommate, Alec, walked in.

The glare they all received from Alec, immediately as he walked in the door, was enough to freeze everything in the room.

Beside him, Magnus could feel the study group tense up.

Pretty much how everyone acted around Alec, when he was being Mr. Uptight.

Magnus felt a flare of irritation rise upon within him, as Alec cleared his throat in a very exaggerated way.  He tensed up even further as Alec’s eyes scanned the room.  He saw his gaze fall upon the plates and glasses strewn all over the coffee table.

Feeling an accusatory statement coming on, Magnus decided to beat him to the punch.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you were coming back early from class,” Magnus offered as a way of apology.  “We would have gone elsewhere –”

But instead of accepting the apology, Alec’s face slowly turned red, as his mouth pressed into even firmer of a line.

“Oh?  And why is that?” Alec said, his voice tight. “Because you never think of asking me if you can have people over to our room?  Or that you never tell me about these things at all?”

Then his gaze seemed to freeze as he saw the books all over the couch next to them.  And his face suddenly paled.

“Uh, e-excuse me,” he stammered.  This was followed by an abrupt turn as he half-walked, half-stumbled to his side of the room.

Wait…

Magnus’s annoyance suddenly turned to confusion.  

Had he detected a note of embarrassment in his voice?

Hmm, that was new…

Oh, man, he soo didn’t want to get dragged into whatever Alec was going through right now…

“Uh, Magnus?” One of the guys, Marcus, was talking to  him.  He turned to him, albeit distracted.

“Yes?” he asked absentmindedly.

“You don’t look like you’re in the mindset to study right now.  We can take a break for a bit -- we’ve been at this for awhile now,” Marcus observed.  He nodded in the direction that Alec had stomped off to. “Don’t you think you should take care of that before it gets worse?”

The look on his face indicated that he already thought that it had…

“Hmm, maybe you’re right,” Magnus mused.  “Thanks, Marcus.” He smiled at him gratefully.

Taking a deep breath, Magnus made his way toward Alec’s side of the room.

He found Alec sitting on his bed, huddled in the corner with a book, which was completely obscuring his face.

Ah, he’s busy, probably best to leave him alone….

But something made him stay.

“Uh, Alexander?” he ventured hesitantly.

No response.  Ah well, Magnus thought.  Okay, play it that way, then…

He turned to leave.

“Uh, I didn’t realize you were studying,” a gruff voice emerged from behind the book.  “I didn’t mean to overreact.”

Magnus stopped where he stood and then slowly turned around.  Alec’s tone had been equally hesitant and unsure.

Now, how was he supposed to act?  Magnus ran his fingers through his hair, feeling slightly distressed.  He wasn’t used to feeling so off-balance.  He usually  prided himself in being able to take on any type of situation or confrontation.

And yet, now he was nearly speechless.

“Uh,” he said finally.  “That’s okay. I mean, things did get really disorganized.  Dinner was definitely not on the agenda when we first planned things.  And Marcus, he brought the wine over, not me…”

While Magnus was talking, Alec had emerged from behind the book, his hazel eyes intense and piercing, causing Magnus to nearly choke upon his words.

Oh my, he thought.  If he had thought that his roommate’s eyes were beautiful on that first day…well right now, that had been elevated to another level.

They were…incredible - the way they looked at him, searchingly, as if seeking something that had yet to be found.

“You don’t need to apologize,” Alec continued, his voice softening slightly, now with a nice gravelly texture to his baritone voice.  He seemed to avert his gaze for a moment, seemingly preoccupied.

Magnus resisted the shiver that nearly shot down his spine at the sound of the voice.

“That’s quite alright,” he said, managing to keep his voice even.   He took a deep breath.  “Not to worry though, we will clean up after we are done.”

Alec nodded.

“Thanks,” he said quietly.  He looked up just then and their gazes met.  Magnus inhaled sharply.  

There was an expression in Alec’s eyes that he wasn’t able to recognize.  Regardless, neither of them could look away.

For Magnus, funny things were starting to happen.  Like wind rushing past his ears, and his heart was suddenly pounding madly.

His throat was also, suddenly, incredibly dry.

He attempted to clear his throat.  “Well,” he said, putting on a smile in an effort to quell the tension that had seemingly appeared, “You’re welcome to come out and have some wine with us, as well as the rest of the food if you’d like.  There’s plenty.  I don’t know if you’ve eaten yet…”

Alec’s eyes appeared to widen at that.  “Oh,” he said.  “Are you sure?  I wouldn’t want to impose…”

His eyes again seemed to search Magnus’s face intensely.  Magnus felt his cheeks turn pink upon his gaze.

“No, no trouble at all,” Magnus found himself saying.  “The guys are really cool too.  They won’t mind.  In fact, Marcus was the one who insisted I come in to make sure you were okay.”

“Oh really?” Alec said, surprised.  Something appeared to shift in his facial expression just then, and the beginnings of a smile started to appear.  “Well, that’s nice of him.  Tell him I appreciate it.”

Magnus attempted to keep his expression even, as his brain nearly imploded.

Wait, was Alec Lightwood, grumpy roommate Alec Lightwood, actually…smiling?

He didn’t even know if he remembered him ever smiling, not even on the first day that they met.  

And that was months ago…

“You can come out and tell him yourself.  Seriously, they’re cool,” Magnus insisted, suddenly making it his mission to bring Alec out of his shell.

Alec continued to look at him for another minute.

And then, he slowly nodded.

He got off the bed and stood in front of Magnus, shifting uncomfortably as he didn't seem certain on what to do next.

“C’mon,” Magnus said, in as gentle of a voice as he could muster amidst the awkwardness.  

He started to walk forward, turning back briefly to make sure Alec was following.

“Okay,” Alec said gruffly. He followed him out.

The chorus of “Hellos” directly toward Alec made Magnus smile.

………………….

Yea, that had been an interesting evening, Magnus mused as he paused right outside his own door.

And, a bit odd at the same time.  

That evening had turned out to be full of surprises.

He could have sworn that he caught Alec looking his way once or twice as the night progressed.  But then he would look away immediately with a flush upon his cheeks.  It had made Magnus a bit flustered, a feeling he wasn’t accustomed to having.

And especially not toward Alec Lightwood of all people…

Once the initial introductions had been made, everyone had settled back in their seats with their drinks.  Alec had then cracked a joke, which everyone laughed at.

Including himself, to his surprise.

And then Alec had proceeded to down a glass of white wine, his normally stoic, grouchy looking face softening into a smile with wonderful crinkles to the corner of his eyes.

The whole effect was simply magnetic, causing Magnus to nearly lose his breath as his heart stuttered. Again, he felt the stirrings that he had, upon that first day he had encountered Alec…

Oh god, what was happening to him?? Magnus thought.

Magnus had just stared at Alec in wonder, his mouth slightly agape. Who was this guy, again?  

One minute, Alec was practically lashing out at him over some preconceived notion of what was going on –and the next minute, he had comfortably settled in – a completely different person.

Well, at least it appeared so, in front of company…

……………….

Magnus came back to the present, continuing to stare at the door in front of him.

Where his enigma of a roommate was possibly on the other side.

Was Alec like Jekyll and Hyde, where one wouldn’t know which personality was going to emerge at any given moment?   Ugh, he wouldn’t want that type of situation...

Or even worse, was Alec the type who was absolutely amazing with everyone else, yet was still crappy when it was the two of them, alone –?

Magnus huffed, shaking his head, as he dug into his jacket pocket for his key.  

Alec was definitely beautiful but too much of a wild card for his taste.

Yea, the last thing he needed was to be anywhere alone with this guy, ever --

Not finding his key, Magnus juggled his books as he fished deeper into his pockets, which caused his books to tumble out of his grasp.  In an attempt to hold onto them, Magnus stumbled backward.

And then  -  he must have landed wrong upon his heel, because now he was on the way to the floor.

His books landed on the floor with a loud clatter, followed by him falling onto his butt.

“Damn!” Magnus cursed, his hand flying to his rear.  That was not a soft fall by any means.

Although, Magnus thought ruefully, it was more that his pride was wounded as opposed to any real pain.

He was just glad no one had seen this happen, or he would never live it down.

Just great, he thought, rolling his eyes in annoyance.  

Gingerly, he got up onto on one knee and proceeded to pick up his books.

What else could go wrong today?

“Hello?” came a muffled voice from the other side of the door.

Before Magnus could react or stand up, the door had opened ajar and a curious looking Alec Lightwood had poked his head out.  He looked left and right, before his eyes went downward.

And now he was looking at Magnus, crouched on the floor, his books partially in hand, looking up at him.

Oh god, of all the people to see him like this…

Alec’s eyes widened.  “Oh my god,” he gasped. “Did you trip and fall?  Well, no wonder, those boots look like an accident waiting to happen, with those heels. I mean, they look really nice and all, but functional they totally aren’t…”

Alec’s cheeks had gone full on red as he spoke.

Was Alec…babbling?  Magnus thought, confused.  And…did he just say my boots looked…nice?

He reached out a hand toward Magnus, who just stared dumbly at the hand.

“Here, I’m trying to help you up,” Alec said gently.

“Thanks,” Magnus mumbled.  “I did fall before.  Sorry I’m like this…”

Magnus grasped Alec’s hand, which was fleshy and warm as his fingers closed around his, and allowed him to pull him up.  He shifted his books in his arms so they were more orderly.

“Here, come inside and sit down,” Alec said. “I was just about to have some tea.  Would you like some?”

“S-Sure,” Magnus said, feeling his cheeks burn as he followed Alec into the room.  He was feeling very on edge, just like that other night – certainly not accustomed to this Alec Lightwood.

Someone who graciously helped him up after he had fallen…and who was now offering him tea?

As Magnus sat down on the couch, Alec excused himself to go get the tea.

Magnus set his books down, and suddenly he felt kinda weird, his hands flitting about. Finally, he settled for crossing his legs, and clasping his hands as he rested them on one knee.

Alec came back in the room just then, holding a very familiar mug by the handle.  That was Magnus’s favorite cup.

Magnus just stared at him.

Alec seemed to recoil slightly under Magnus’s scrutiny.

“Ah,” he said in a hesitant tone of voice, his eyes going to the cup, “Don’t you always use this mug? I just assumed it was your go-to mug.”

“Ah, yes, it is.  I just didn’t know you were aware of that,” Magnus said, surprised.

Alec handed the mug to Magnus, who took it in both hands.  

“Thank you,” Magnus said breathily, suddenly feeling shy.  He closed his eyes as he took in the aroma of the tea.  Peppermint.

Then he realized that Alec was watching him closely, the corner of his lips slightly upturned.

“It’s my favorite type of tea to have, especially after a long day,” he said.  “I even added a dollop of raw honey in yours, I’ve seen you use that from time to time in your drinks.  I hope you don’t mind.”

And now…Alec’s cheeks had turned a slight pink.

“No, t-that’s fine,” Magnus said quietly. “I love it.”  He sipped at the tea.  Delicious, and totally hitting the spot.

“Long day, eh?” Alec said in a sympathetic tone of voice.

Magnus snorted, momentarily forgetting the awkwardness he was feeling just a moment ago.  “You don’t know the half of it…”

And before he knew it, he was telling Alec about the crappy day he had had.  Minutes turned into a half-hour.  Then an hour.  Then two…

It was so surreal, how much they were getting along.

**************

Alec was having the most out of body experience he could ever recall having.  And he could barely breathe.

Here he was, sitting across from his roommate, whom he had been at odds with for months, and here they were having tea, with Magnus talking animatedly in that musical voice of his.  Which Alec could have listened to for hours on end.

Just as long as his gorgeous soft brown eyes, and warm smile were completely directed toward him as he threw his head back and laughed.

It was such a beautiful sight, he basked in it.

He no longer remembered why they were at odds with one another.  In fact, perhaps it wasn’t that they were at odds with one another  -- rather, it was more displaced, in terms of how he had reacted upon first seeing Magnus.

Magnus, who had completely upended Alec’s life in every way since he first stepped into the room.

Who had affected Alec like no other.

Alec hadn’t had much experience with these things –  let alone meeting anyone he was ever interested in – to really know what that feeling was.

In fact, it had taken him a few months to figure out exactly why Magnus had affected him so. He had found Magnus attractive from day one – but didn’t know how to admit it to himself.  So he had done the exact opposite thing that he should have done. He’d shut himself off from him, acted all distant, for fear that he would be read like an open book.

Then to see Magnus flirt with others, go out every night, and bring home different people every night – it had sent him into a tailspin.  He had not been prepared for that, and it had wrecked him in all ways imaginable.

Then that had, in turn, caused him to close himself off further – even as he went deeper into despair.  He hated the feeling.  Jealousy was such a useless emotion.  But yet it was there, wrapping its thorny vines around his heart, piercing different parts of his heart and psyche just that bit further with every different person that would pass through that door.

But by the time Alec decided that he wanted to try to turn things around, the animosity between them had already gone too far, and he couldn’t figure out a way around it.

Until that night, when he had mistakenly called out Magnus for throwing a get-together when it was just a study group.

Embarrassed at having made such a colossal error of judgment, he had fled to the security of his corner, determined never to show his face to Magnus again.  But, Magnus, to his credit – had extended an olive branch to him, even though he hadn’t deserved it.  

After that day, he had started to come to terms with his attraction and feelings for Magnus.

Which just seemed to be getting stronger, the more he was sitting here and talking to Magnus.  God was he beautiful.

Then his insecurities started getting hold of him.  What would Magnus ever see in someone like him?  There was nothing special about Alec.  He was the complete opposite of Magnus, who commanded a presence whenever he walked into a room.

It was something that Alec could never even begin to know about….

“Alexander?”  God, it was that voice again…

Then Alec blinked, as he realized he had zoned out slightly, as Magnus was trying to get his attention.

He gulped, his eyes meeting seemingly curious brown eyes.  Which were looking intensely at him.

Were there always gold glints in there?  Or was that a trick of the light?

It unnerved him.  He wasn’t used to having Magnus gaze upon him in that way.

….

Meanwhile, Magnus was definitely experiencing a moment here, upon seeing Alec with the most curious, doe-eyed look, his hazel eyes holding a hopeful yet apprehensive look.

Directed at him.

Magnus inhaled sharply.  Magnus knew that look, from his prior experience with dating and first-meets.

Alec liked him.

Well, at the very least, Alec was attracted to him. Magnus was surprised.   Up until now, he hadn’t picked up on it at all.

It was strangely comforting though, knowing that he wasn’t alone with his feelings….

Magnus laughed softly to himself, as he leaned forward in his seat.

This seemed to evoke a reaction in Alec, who couldn’t seem to take his eyes off him…

Magnus berated himself for being so uncertain about things.  In other situations, he would have already been tossing off flirty one-liners galore, making the object of his attention blush fiercely.

But Magnus already knew – that was different from anything he had ever experienced before.

And thus demanded a different approach.

Magnus hummed as he thought about it for a moment.

Oh to hell with it, he thought.  Totally going for broke.

After all, Magnus could have still read things wrong…and it wasn’t as if he was laying everything down on the line, like he had a huge crush or something.

And perhaps, that was what made his decision so easy in the end – that there wasn’t as much vested in this, just yet.

Still, though, his brain thought, rejection either way would still be less than desirable –

Magnus quickly pushed his pride and ego aside.  Time to focus on the task at hand, before he lost his nerve…

“So, maybe I’m being a bit presumptuous,” Magnus said finally.  “But I’m typically not one to mince words.  Am I wrong to think that there’s something here?”

With a flourish of his hand, he gestured between them both.

……………………

Alec swallowed hard as Magnus’s question registered in his head.

He could only gaze at Magnus’s face – it was beautiful, and everything he’d ever wanted.  And suddenly, there was only one answer he could really give.

The truth.

“No,” Alec said, choking slightly on his words.  “You aren’t wrong in thinking that.” He paused, trying to figure out how to frame his words best.  “I’m sorry I acted so horribly these past few months.  I was going through a lot.  I also never really dated before, or had someone I was interested in so quickly –”

Magnus held up a finger and Alec stopped talking.  “Well,” he said. “There is one thing I want to know from you.”

“Yes?” At that moment, Alec would have agreed to anything Magnus was asking…

“How do you feel about us being roommates? Does that make this whole situation awkward to you?” Magnus asked seriously.  “Because I understand if it does –”

Alec grimaced.  “True, this could have been a less awkward arrangement,” he admitted.  “But then again, perhaps this was probably for the best.”

At that, Magnus’s eyes lit up with interest.  “Oh, really?  How so?” he asked.

“Well,” Alec said, “I was supposed to dorm with my brother Jace, that’s why we signed up for a double.  But then he left me at the last minute to go to school with his girlfriend, so there was a vacancy available.  If I had no one else to room with, I would have probably applied for a single.”  He then looked directly at Magnus.  “This is going to be shocking, but I’m not really all that great with people,” he said to Magnus, with a straight face.

Immediately he saw Magnus’s eyes twinkle as he bit his lip.

“No, you don’t say,” Magnus said, shaking his head in denial, even as he attempted to keep from laughing.

“So,” Alec concluded, “If we hadn’t become roommates, who knows if I would have even met you.  I mean, look at you. And look at me.  You’re so outgoing and gorgeous, and I prefer to be alone with my books –”

“You think I’m gorgeous?” Magnus breathed, his eyes flying wide open as he looked at Alec.

Alec shrugged, as a smile crept upon his face.

“Yea, I do,” he said.  “But you already knew that about yourself…”

Magnus appeared to ponder that statement for a moment, before a big smile appeared upon his face.

“Well, so I’ve been told,” he cracked, making Alec giggle.  

Then his face grew serious. “But actually, it sounds wonderful, coming from you.  Thank you,” he said softly.

Their gazes met and locked.

Feeling brave all of a sudden, Alec slowly reached over with his hand to entwine his fingers with Magnus’s.  Magnus’s eyes sparkled as he beamed at Alec, which made him feel warm all over.

They looked at one another, for what seemed like the longest time.

“What comes next?” Alec wondered..

Magnus hummed.  “How about a date?” he asked. “Would you go out on a date with me, Alexander Lightwood?”

Alec’s heart had never felt so full, ever…

“Yes,” he said.  “I would love to go out on a date with you, Magnus Bane.

Suddenly, Alec realized that Magnus had steadily moved closer to him in the past few minutes.

And now there was a devilish look in his soft brown eyes.  “Should we seal it with a kiss?” he asked softly, his voice nearly a purr.

It sent chills down Alec’s spine, he could barely think. And suddenly his palms were really sweaty.

”Uh, yea,” he gulped.  “T-That sounds like a good idea.  I- I actually never…”

Whatever he was going to say was lost as Magnus closed the distance between them, his soft lips pressing against his.  Alec’s heart started beating wildly with butterflies going crazy at the bottom of his gut. And then he felt his tongue gently sweep over the top of his lip, and it was the most incredible feeling ever.

Magnus moaned slightly as his hands moved to the nape of Alec’s neck, entangling his fingers through his thick hair.  That just felt so amazing, Alec moaned softly in return, as he did similarly with his lips and tongue.

When they disengaged from one another, both were breathing hard.

“Damn, that was awesome,” Alec breathed, laughing softly.  “I  hope that wasn’t too bad, on my part. I certainly don’t mind practicing more… especially if it’s with you.”

Magnus grinned widely.

“You weren’t too bad at all, pretty good, actually.  But you know what the perfect thing is about all of this?” he asked, as he leaned his forehead in toward Alec’s.

Alec looked at him inquisitively, with a smile on his face.

“Since we are roommates, we have all the time and opportunity to practice. I have so much yet to show you,” he whispered.

“I certainly like the sound of that,” Alec said shyly.

Magnus only laughed as he leaned in to kiss him again.

[demigodsanswer]

Hazel Levesque: Into the Prophecy-verse pt. 1

Time for the prologue to an AU I’ve wanted to write for a long time and need to finally get out of my brain. Hazel is a little OOC in this, but that’s because it’s an AU where she grows up in the modern world, not the 1920s. 

Description:

Rome was a three-thousand year old empire, with two capitals - Old Rome in Italy and New Rome in America. New Rome was the powerhouse of the gods and their hero’s.

The children of the Olympian gods lived amongst mortals, the most powerful of them joining the Legion, and some even earning fame status when major prophecies thrusted one or a few of them into the spot light. 

Hazel Levesque is an unclaimed, unimportant demigod, unsuitable for the esteemed legion. And she’s about to find herself at the middle of a major prophecy. 

~*~*~*~

Alright let’s do this one last time

“My name is Jason Grace. I’m the son of Jupiter and for ten years, I’ve the one and only child of the Big Three. I’m pretty sure you know the rest: I saved a bunch of people, fell in love, saved the city, and then I saved the city again and again and again. I also did this [cut to Jason getting hit in the head with a brick]. We don’t talk about that. Look, I’m a comic book, I’m a cereal, did a Christmas album, have an excellent theme song, and a so-so popsicle. I mean, I’ve looked worse. But after everything, I still love being the hero. I mean, who wouldn’t? So no matter how many hits I take, I always find a way to come back, because the only thing standing between this city and oblivion is me. There’s only one child of the Big Three. And you’re looking at him.” 

Hazel was listening to her music too loud to hear Chiron calling her. She had her first day at some prep school for demigods, meaning she was leaving Chiron’s half-way house for unclaimed and untamable demigods. 

New Rome was overflowing with demigods who either hadn’t been claimed or had been rejected from the Legion. Lupa had deemed her and her friend Leo “too insubordinate” for the Legion. He set the wolf on fire (an accident) and she had told the wolf to eat shit (not an accident.) Demigods who didn’t fit in the Legion and couldn’t live at their home with their mortal parents (like Hazel, who’s mom had been deem “unsuitable”) or didn’t have mortal parents (like Leo) lived in one of the half-way houses. There was hundreds of them around the country, all named “Chiron’s Half-Way House,” but only the New Rome branch was actually graced by the old Greek Centaur. 

He did his best to train or rehabilitate problem kids, getting them ready for either the legion or the real world. He was the one who had insisted every demigod apply to some fancy, over-priced prep school. And Hazel was the only one of them dumb enough to be smart enough to get in.  

 “Do I have to go?” She asked Chiron, as he adjusted the collar of her uniform (which she already hated.) 

“This is a step in the right direction for you Hazel.” 

She tugged on one of her curls, pulling it straight in front of her eyes before letting it bounce back into place. Chiron led her out to the car. Leo was waiting out on the front porch. 

“Don’t forget us little people while you’re off becoming some famous hero or some shit, Levesque.” He said, smiling. 

Hazel pulled him into a hug. “Who could forget you?” 

“I’ll bust you out as soon as I can,” he whispered. 

Hazel sat, clearly angry, in the back of Chiron’s car. He couldn’t drive, being a centaur and all, so Argus, the thousand-eyed half-way house driver was behind the wheel, and Chiron lectured her about all of her opportunities. 

“I don’t care,” Hazel protested. “I don’t want to go, I’m only here because I drew some pictures.” Her scholarship was art-based, that was true. She was a good artist. Not a really notable demigod skill, though. Still, someone had to mosaic all of Jason Grace’s accomplishments. They were only one year away from some world-ending prophecy that the tabloids still had yet to leak. So it was only a matter of time before Golden Boy Supreme (as Leo had nicknamed him) added another line on his resume. And if Hazel was lucky, which she rarely was, she’d be there to sculpt the whole thing in marble. 

“You passed the entrance exam just like everyone else,” Chiron told her. “This is your opportunity, Hazel. Do you want to end up like --” 

He cut himself off, but she knew how that sentence ended. Like her mother. Her mom wasn’t perfect, but she wasn’t bad. She was actually pretty cool. The courts were just picky about who was allowed to raise demigod children. Even mega-Hero Grace grew up with a foster mom - Sally Jackson, poster mom for good demigod parenting. Literally, her picture was on the side of buses. She had her own book. She had been on The View with the nine muses. 

Her mom wasn’t Sally Jackson, for sure, but she always made sure Hazel had food, and she taught her how to draw. The court’s problem was her mom’s inability to hold down a job. The only thing she managed consistently was selling her own homemade jewelry. It was all bullshit though. If Hazel wasn’t a demigod, they never would have separated them. 

“Whatever,” Hazel said as they pulled up to the school. She grabbed her backpack and suitcase, and preyed to whatever god her father was that she would be kicked out by the end of the day. 

“Tie your shoes!” Chiron yelled after her. She ignored him. 

Hazel walked into a whirlwind. The school was huge. Most people were in their uniforms, although a few wore ancient Roman style armor over theirs. Some carried stacks of books, and other had spears and swords. Half her day was academic - Latin, literature, history, science, and math. The other half was training - weaponry, climbing, survival skills, and pegasus riding. At least they had Pegasi here. She had been trained well enough at the half way house, but there were unfortunately lacking in magic horses. Well, besides Chiron’s lower half, which Hazel wasn’t too keen on riding. 

“You’re shoe’s untied,” a stranger said, passing Hazel. 

“Yeah, I know it’s a choice.” 

The sneakers probably weren’t uniform, but she didn’t earn the label “insubordinate” for nothing. 

She found her locker, wide and tall enough for armor, weapons, and other demigod provisions, and shoved her suitcase in it. She figured she would move into her dorm later on. 

Someone opened the locker next to hers. “Oh this is so embarrassing,” Hazel said to her locker neighbor, “we are wearing the same jacket.” She laughed awkwardly, but the girl just rolled her eyes before walking away. 

Off to a good start, Hazel though before grabbing her backpack and moving on to her first class. 

Each class seemed to come with its own thousand pound textbook. And the long, winding hallways made it impossible to stop at her locker in between classes. By fifth period - history - she had four new text books and figured she was about to get one more. 

She walked in late. She hoped the darkness of the room helped cover her late arrival, but she cast a shadow in front of the projector. 

“Ah Miss. Levesque,” her history teacher, some old guy named Mr. Quintus, paused the movie, “you’re late.” 

She shrugged, “Maybe y’all are just early.” 

A girl with black spiky hair and dark eye make up let out a stifled chuckle. Quitus and Hazel looked at her. “Sorry, it was just so quiet.” 

“Please take your seat, Miss, Levesque.” He started playing the movie again. Some history documentary. The Romans loved those. This one had some young narrator, who would have been handsome if it wasn’t for the scar down his face. With his blond hair and blue eyes, Hazel could have mistaken him for Jason Grace, if Jason were twenty-five, not fifteen. 

“The Titan Saturn, lord of Time, was overthrown by Jupiter and his other brothers and sisters, and his remains cast away.” 

Hazel was just staring to tune the whole thing out when Quintus paused the video again. “Can anyone tell me the Greek name for the Titan Saturn?” The girl next to Hazel raised her hand. “Yes, Miss. Grace?” 

“Kronos,” she offered. 

“Very good,” Quintus restarted the film. Hazel thought about leaning over and asking her if she was related to Jason, but figured she probably got that all the time. 

A week later, Quintus stopped Hazel on her way out the door. “Miss. Levesque?” 

She walked over to his desk. “What’s up?” 

Quintus showed her the score from their history quiz the day before. A red 0/100 was written across the scantron. 

“A zero?” Hazel tried to look genuinely upset. “A few more of those and you’ll probably have to kick me out of here, huh?”

“If a person wearing a blind fold took a true or false quiz at random, what score would they get?” 

“Fifty percent?” 

Quintus changed her 0 to a 100. “That’s right.” He stood and faced the bored to start erasing that day’s lecture notes. “Are you familiar with the story of Icarus, Miss. Levesque?” 

“Uh yeah, he was escaping the Labyrinth with his father with a pair of bronze wings. But he flew too close to the sun, the wax melted, and he fell into the ocean. it’s about pride, right?” 

“Correct,” he said, turning to face her, “but you left out a crucial element. Yes, Icarus was instructed by his father not to fly too high. But he was also told not too fly too low, as the sea mist could also weaken the wax.”

“Why are you telling me this?” She asked. 

“You’re trying to quit, and I won’t let you. You must remember not to let yourself fly too low, it’s just as dangerous. I’m assigning you a personal essay. Not about history, but about yourself and the kind of person who you want to be.” 

Hazel had spent an hour at her desk, trying to write anything for Quintus or for her literature essay, but her ADHD was going off the rails. She wished Leo would make good on his promise to bust her out of there. 

But she decided not to wait for Leo. 

She hadn’t seen her mom in a while. She grabbed her hoodie before making her way down the fire escape. 

[opinuun]

Do you guys remember when this was a studio Ghibli blog and I’d post gifs? 2017 was a good year lol. Anyway. As a child, I never knew I’d thirst for a 2-D otome man, but sadly I’ve stopped. Yes, after two years of obsession, it’s time I retire from the fandom. I’m keeping the blog though. Ran this shit for years, ain’t gonna give up now that my horny-meter has plummeted to an all time record low. Did you guys know blogs don’t have a character limit??

Oh god. I didn’t know this blog would suddenly receive so much attention. Please, I am begging you to not scroll down. It’s endless MysticMessenger posts from two years ago.

Hey, I'm once again: back, you can't possibly have more time than I do. I mean, after all, I made this blog. You're only browsing it. And most people don't even come here. Not even my friends...*sniffle* The just ignore this poor, pathetic little page. All they do is fill out the TAB form and leave. I think. Maybe they're here right now! HI! HOW ARE YOU DOING? I'M FINE! THANKS FOR COMING! YES, I'M YELLING! Who am I kidding. This page won't get a single hit, unless I bribe people...now that has possibilities. Okay, fill out the TAB form, so I have proof that you bothered to come here and...uh...I'll...uh...send you a sandwich? Please allow 6-8 weeks for delivery. I'm bored. I'm gonna go hug a moose. MOOSE! I love-d you moose! Hey, I'm back again! Yea...*waits for applause* okay! Now I want all you loyal fans...*cricket chirps* to go to the link to see what I'm like. I took a whole bunch of personality quizzes and posted them there. I'm an evil villain, kitty and a freakazoid so far. And I only took the quiz once, too. Spooky how accurate they are...anyway, I command you to go! I'm going. I'm back. I'm gonna start counting how many times I say back. Let's see: 1...2...3...4...5! Wow. I must really be desperate for something to do. I now officially have proof that someone has been here! It was one of my friends. Apparently this page really is getting long, because my friend said something to that effect. Maybe. Anyway, moving on! I'm just basically typing nothing. Just like all those reports people have to do. You know? With a specific number of words. They start out with half that number, and then just fill in words until they have the right amount. I salute those people. You're great tradition is being carried out here, on the second most pointless site ever! Well. Maybe eventually some weird, bored person will wander onto my site on accident and be mildly entertained be my site until they wander onto a live video feed of a coffee maker. Or maybe not. I only know that I'm entertaining me, which was my original goal. So. I've done what I've set out to accomplish. Yea, me! I'm so special. You see, most people, they don't like reading or writing. So if you're not most people, you've made it down this far without skipping, skimming or getting the spark notes version. (Which I think does not exist) My point is, if you've bothered to read this, then, (like me) you probley have also read the ketchup bottle so many times that you have it down verbatim. Look verbatim up. It's a word. But, you should know that, since you like reading. Or maybe you're just skimming. Anyway, there's nothing wrong with reading food labels. You might be asked a question about them on a quiz show. And now, for the million-dollar question: How many calories are there in a single serving of Mustard? I can just see it now...It could be called Know-Your-Food. Or You are What you Eat. It'd probley be as popular as those game shows that no one's ever heard of. Speaking of food, what's up with pie? There's strawberry pie, apple, pumpkin and so many others, but there is no grape pie! I know. I'm just as upset about this unfortunate lack of development in the pie division. Think about it. Grapes are used to make jelly, jam, juice and raisins. What makes them undesirable for pie? Would they dry into raisins? Couldn't you just stick some jelly in a piecrust and bake it? It just doesn't make any sense. Another thing that bothers me is organ grinders. You know, the foreign guys with the bellhop hats and the little music thingy and the cute little monkey with the bellhop hat who collects the money? Okay. They're basically begging on the street. How did they ever afford an organ-thingy? Wouldn't it make more sense to get a kazoo, if you're broke? And if they're so poor, what possessed them to buy a monkey? I mean, I don't think I could afford a monkey, and I'm not exactly on the streets. Obviously I at least have a computer...so, back to the organ grinders. I would have sold the monkey and the organ and been able to eat for at least a year. Or, if I was weirder than I am, I could at least kill the monkey with the organ and eat it. Why on earth did they keep the monkey? It must have cost a fortune to feed...not to mention the mess. That's just one of those many facts of life that are better left mysteries. Especially since no one but me would ask the question. I better go. I think I hear a monkey...Okay...now I'm back. That's the sixth time I've said back! I realize that this longest text ever must be very boring and not worth anyone's time. But I'd like to take this time to thank the 2 and 1/2 people in the entire universe who have bothered to read this entire thing. I'm not exactly sure who they are, but: thanks! Right now, my spacebar is malfunctioning...that's not good...I have to press it two or three times just to insert a freaking space. Maybe the evil little faeries with the sharp little teeth have put their evil faerie dust on my computer. Or maybe not. This is too frustrating. Goodbye for now...Now I'm back. And still frustrated. But for a different reason. Today I had the misfortune of playing a Treasure Planet game on neopets.com It was terrible. Apparently the point of the game was to get your character to shout "Whoo-Hoo!" as many times as possible before you splattered your brains on the rocks, all the while listening to a soundtrack that is similar to a dying ceiling fan. Of course, when I started out I accidentally hit the rocks approximately three million times. Halfway though I used my four remaining brain-cells to decide that the game was dumb. So my goal changed from surviving to laughing evilly while my character died. So the game naturally did everything it could to preserve my life. The stupid game is still going on and I refuse to quit because I want my points. My character is actually dodging the stupid rocks better now then when I controlled him. I hate irony. Seeya. Okay. Now I'm back again. Today I added an update page, which is basically a less chaotic, outlined version of this without all the ranting. It's more like techno talk about arrays and how much I suck and whether or not the Braves will win this year. Okay, the whole braves thing is made up. But everything else I've said so far is true. I think. Maybe I should start on a boring disclaimer...Eh-hem. All contents of this site were designed for entertainment purposes only. Any use thereof that is not stated in the above mentioned statement would make the author, hereby referred to as Patron Saint of Paper Clips, very angry. Should you violate the purpose of this site: i.e. become not entertained, the Patron Saint of Paper Clips will be forced to take drastic measures. This is specified in Code: 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook. Ooooo…that’s a great idea! I’m gonna start quoting from the Flaming Chicken Handbook! Code: 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook states that the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (that’s me) is allowed to cause vague, pain like sensations while the offending person (or alien life form, dog, etc.) isn’t paying attention. Now I have a purpose in life! To make up quotes from the non-existent Flaming Chicken Handbook, which I’m sure you have a copy of. No? Too bad. It’s in the mail, I promise! Now I must take my leave…and remember. Cheese is watching. Okay...I'm back...I think that eventually half of this thing will consist of the word back over and over again...that's just weird. Which fits the motif of the rest of the site. There's even a money back guarantee. Isn’t' that nice? See? Now no one can ever say that I don't take care of my viewers. Especially since I don't have viewers. I have readers. Wait...I really don't even know if anyone bothers to read this. Even if I put it in a less chaotic, more user-friendly format people would still ignore this because it involves: reading. Yes. Sad to admit, but the majority of people would rather read the summary at the back of a book rather than the whole book itself. What has the world come to? It's pathetic. Especially since I'm bothering to write all this. It's not fair! Why can't I have more readers?! All the other internet writers have nothing on me, except they're better at advertising, having a central theme/plot and basically more talented. Whereas I'm more into the whole ranting and raving stage right now. Plus, I am horrible at spelling. Which is bad. Thank the powers that be for spell-check. The single greatest invention of the computer gods. I'm getting bored, so I think I'm done for the day. May your day be shiney! I'm back again! And I feel weird! I found at that yet another one of my friends is reading this. Creepy. Just how much time do they have on their hands. Perhaps their just trying to be nice. I can just see it now...an organization devoted not to feeding the hungry, or peace, or love or whatever, but to giving recognition to all those poor, pathetic, unpopular websites. I wonder what it's name would be. Don't Ignore Sites? Would it be called DIS? Isn't that like a slang term for an insult? Would that be considered poetic justice, or just a nice coincidence? And why do I even care? I'll tell you why. Because I have nothing else to do right now. I could be playing neopets, but ever since my bad experience with Treasure Planet, I don't feel like it. Oh, by the way, I noticed that whenever I use spell-check, my stupid computer turns the word probley into to word problem. To prevent this, I did nothing. So, it is now up to you, the imaginary reader, to decide whether I mean probley or problem...it's almost like a game! But without the bad sound track. And I promise not to force you to live when you would rather die. Moving on, I have nothing else to say, but don't feel like quitting just yet. I'm like the little engine that could. Or maybe the Energizer Bunny. I just keep going, and going and going. Or I could be like that annoying guy on T.V. who keeps asking if you can hear him. If my site manages to last a decade, my readers *snicker* will probley wonder what I'm talking about. My answer is simple. It doesn't matter. I'm just rambling. Which means that it doesn't matter if you understand anything I say. Doesn't that make you feel better? I bet it does. Wow. Look how long this has gotten. I even impress myself. Who would have thought I have this much free time? And I congratulate any reader who has gotten this far. Ooooooo! You must check out the fortunes section of the random stuff page! I've just gotten an idea for some more, original, fortunes...I gotta go!(may the moose be with you) And now I am back. I swear. If iI fill out the fake tab form I'm gonna have to put back as my favorite word...I already have filled it out, though. Would it be cheating to fill it out again? Only if I had multiple personalities. Or would it be cheating if I didn't have multiple personalities? The world may never know. Just like how many licks it takes to get to the bottom of a tootsie pop. Would it vary? The number of licks, I mean. Someone could have super-disolving spit, or watery-spit. Or what if you took big ol' slobbery licks? Does the commercial take that into account? No. It doesn't. And let me tell you, it's an outrage. It deludes all of American's sweet, innocent, candy-loving children into thinking that a cartoon owl is smarter than they are! "Mr. Owl, can you tell us how many licks does it take to get to the bottom of a tootsie pop?" Or whatever. And "Mr. Owl" replies "One...Twoo...Three! Chomp" And he bites it. That teaches our youth that it's okay to agree to help someone, and then ruin their experiment. Well...it's not. I am going to start a protest group. Teens Against Cartoon Owls. We could call ourselves TACO! I love the little tacos, I love them good! That is a direct quote from GIR, co-star and comic-relief on INVADER ZIM. Hmmmm...intersting. I put hyphens in both of his titles...it must be a conspiracy! I gotta go. Those TACO buttons don't make themselves, you know. I'm back again. And not so cheesed off about the whole tootsie roll pop thing. Right now, I have another twenty minutes on the Internet before I'm gonna watch T.V. And I can't think of anything else to do. So, predictably, here I am. It's not like I have anything better to do. Obviously, you know this. After all, look how long this text is. I wonder if I've made the world record? If I did, would I stop this? Why bother asking? I'll will most likely still be adding to this on my death bed. Hmmmmm...has any old, senile person ever written anything? Was it coherent? Did it make more sense that this text? Is it possible to make less sense? Am I enjoying asking retorical questions? Yes. Yes, I am. But I seriously wonder what something written by a senile person would be like. I've heard of poems and stuff written by people who were high, insane or paranoid. But never senile. Can a senile person write? Aren't they regressed to a child-like state? Does it even matter? Is anyone even reading this? Did I resume asking retorical questions? Do you care? Is this eating up time? I feel like I'm playing questions only on whose line is it anway. I probley should have capitalized something, or underlined but I'm feeling lazy...hey, you try to keep your two and a half readers happy! It's really stressfull. Someday, I'm gonna snap and just delete this entire thing. Gee, I hope not! I worked sorta hard on this. It's great for making random topics weave together to form an overall infrastructure of chaos. That made little sense. That's why it's here, and not some critically acclaimed site. Ooooooooooooo! I'm gonna quote from the FLAMING CHICKENS HANDBOOK again! Yep! I bet you were just breathless in anticipation. Okay. Here goes. Code: 472 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that this site in no way aknowledges the existance of other, better sites (hereon reffered to as the Losers) The Losers are a myth. The Patron Saint of Paper Clips (me again!) claims no knowledge as to where that particullary nasty rumor started, but confirms that this is the best site ever. It would be a sin against humanity for a better site to exist. Should you refuse to aknowledge the Patron Saint of Paper Clips as the ruler of the Internet, you will be subjected to punishment as stated in Code 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook (i.e. Experience vague, pain-like sensations when you're not paying attention) This has been a public service announcement. This is a test, I repeat only a test. Had this been an actual emergency, we would have bought up all the can openers and charged 3 cows and a pig for each one. I repeat, lock all you doors and windows, this is it. I repeat, there is nothing to worry about. Everything is fine. The end is not here. I'm going, you're on you're own! Ahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm back!*smiles brightly* And apparantly delusional! Anyway, I just finished rereading my longest text ever. And I became inspired to talk about nothing. You see, I periodically read the longest text ever to check the constant downward spiral of my sanity. Hmmm...I seem to be entertaining myself though, even while reading what I wrote. Which is why I still go to the Really Really Big Button That Doesn't Do Anything website. Because I am easily amused and have lots and lots of time on my hands. Maybe, some day far in the future (like next Thursday) I'll print a copy of this insane text. And then go door to door distributing it. Eventually, this would become a monthly tradition. Whole families would gather around their front door, in breathless anticipation while they attempted to barracade me out. I can just see the whole community rising to thwart my attempts to spread love, joy and insane chaos. I probley wouldn't actually print this out (think how much paper it would take!) but if I do, only friends and enemies will receive copies. Hmmmm...maybe my condition is worsening. Or not. I'm still peeved about the cartoon owl from the Tootsie Roll Pop commercials. He is pure evil. TACO will eventually destroy him. Unless he has already been destroyed by an even more radical Anti-Cartoon-Owl group. I hope not. Or, would that be good? I suppose I could let someone else have the glory. After all, I'm not in this line of buisness for the fame, fortune and power. What line of buisness, do you ask? Why, the assasinating annoying cartoon characters buisness. (Actually I just question them untill they spontaneously combust, I ask lots of questions) So, in conclusion, ladies and gentleman of the jury(that's you) I could not have possibly tortured "Mr. Owl" to death. I love owls. Hmm...I seem to be jumping from one subject to another more frequently. Either I am growing more comfortable with my on-line writing, or I am progressivly getting more insane and chaotic. I also am psyco-analyzing myself a lot today...hmmmm...I'm even saying "hmmmmm..." a lot. Just like a real psychologist. Hmmmmmmm. Time for another boring disclaimer!!!!!!! Code: 742 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that in no part does the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (That's still me!) actually claim to be mentally ill. That's either a) a publicity stunt b) An attempt at humor c) a cry for help or d) none of the above You can e-mail your responses by conducting a scavenger hunt of this site. Some of the pages of this site contain a link encouging the two and a half people to e-mail the Patron Saint of Paper Clips. There may also be evil little links that are designed to confuse you. These links send stuff to someone named johnjones66@hotmail.com Saint of Paper Clips does not know who this individual is, but sincerly wishes that you send all your hate mail to him. Not that the aformentioned individual claims to have received hate mail (or mail of any kind) via a website link. Thank-you for your time. Remember to send your answers to my sanity quiz to the e-mail account, bigppmegashlong@gmail.com Oh, and once I refer to myself in the first person again, the handbook quote is over. I just thought that I might like to mention that. Oh. You're still here. I figured you rush right on over to e-mail me. Perhaps you don't have time to waste e-mailing me. HA! HA! HA! That's funny!!!! If you you don't have time to waste, what are you doing here?!!! Oh, who am I kidding. I figure that even the people I manage to lure onto my site from neopets don't even bother to come to this particular page. Maybe I should make the link come here directly...Hey! What a good idea! That way I can spread my love, joy and insane chaos to more people! I'm a genius. Gotta go, must lure innocent victems to the second most pointless site ever!!!! I'm back. And really angry, and confused. I've always known that I was weird, that's always been a given. But now I realize that I am considerably more normal than the rest of my family. Today we had a "family outing." Now, most families will go bowling, or putt-putt golfing. They may go to a resteraunt with an arcarde, or the movies or to a theme park. Not my family! No, we got the greatest family outing of all. We got to go to a bar and play pool!!!!!*waits for readers to become insanely jealous* Yep, that's right, a bar with a pool table! Not only did we get world class cuisine (under-cooked hotdogs and over-cooked hamburgers), my little sister (age 10) got taught pool by someone I strongly supect is an ex-convict! Naturally when it was announced that we'd be eating dinner in this place, I could hardly contain my excitment(I glared at my mother and asked why we couldn't go to Pizza Hut) When we arrived, we were promptly served (after thirty minutes) In the meantime, we played a family game of pool(my parents played while my brother and sister and I watched) After two rousing rounds, our food came. The food was superb, (our food came the exact opposite of how we ordered it, and half of the onion rings were missing) Then we joyfully returned to our game(my sister and the ex-con played my mom) We spent hours there (from 5p.m.-7:15p.m.) There were many people that were the same age as me and my siblings (no one in the room but us were under 30) Us kids had to be dragged kicking and screaming from the bar ( I almost fell asleep during the last game I watched) As we left, there was a feeling of goodwill and fellowship between all(my sister locked me out of the car and wouldn't let me in untill I started yelling profanity in her general direction) The high point of the entire night was when my mother gave me $21 for my report card. She promptly borrowed $1 to help with the waitresses tip(This part I'm not being sarcastic about) All in all it was a night I'll remember forever (as the lowest point in "family outing"history, except for that time my mom dragged me to a church thing on the concept of truth.) My brother(age 13) even decided upon a new job he wants when he's old enough to work, a busboy at the bar. We had to tell him that he would probley have to wait untill he was 21.(Absolutly nothing about that statement was sarcastic) As you can see, I love my families outings(Not unless you're blind...or stupid) &#!#%&&!!!(*%$ WHAT THE %$#@ WAS MY MOTHER $#$#%$# THINKING!!!!!!!???? BRINGING $#$$# KIDS IN A BAR!? I know it was her idea, 'cause my dad hates it, too. My mom and my stupid little 10-year old sister loves it, though. *sighs* Why does my life have to be so weird? I'm leaving...now I'm back! And not so pissed at my weird family. Now is the time to mourn the loss of one of my most loyal readers (I think she's read the entire thing one time, which is more than anyone else has done so far) She has been banned from accesing any portion of the Internet, do to reasons that must remain confidental due to security reasons. If I told you, I'd have to kill you and all that stuff. So...now I am down to one and a half readers. Untill such time that I have more. I wonder why anyone would read this? You would have to have several characteristics that I possess. First of all, you'd have to have an extrodinary amount of free time. Second of all, you would have to have the patience to read through all of this. And lastly, you'd have to know where the heck this site is. I admit it. I haven't exactly advertised this site. Nor can I find it on any search engines. Some of my pages have stuff written in to make search engines recognize me, but it doesn't seem to be working. What must I do to rise above obscurity? I tell people I know about this site, but they either ignore this page, or don't even bother coming to the site in the first place. I suppose that is the bane of all authors. To pour your heart and soul into a passage, and have everyone ignore it. *sniffle* Why must this be? Maybe I should just give up. After all, no one would really care if I quit updating this site. But I can't help but think of stuff like the evil over lord list and REALLY REALLY BIG BUTTON THAT DOESN'T DO ANYTHING. They are not great neccesarily because of the content, (although that helps some) they are great because of their sheer length. You can read a little each day. And almost never finish. Also, I guess I still am trying to get the world record. I have heard some feedback suggesting that I make someway for people to remember where they stopped reading. It can be very confusing, especially if you weren't paying attention in the first place. Well, I dont want to organize this page, in any manner. This is chaos. And insanity. Not neat little text in classifiable rows, in alphabetical order. If you want neat, go to some other site(though, as mentioned in Flaming Chickens Code:472 there is no such thing as a site better than this one). Otherwise, I guess you're stuck with me. Awwwww...I'm touched! You didn't run screaming to another site, thankfull for the chance to escape this insanity. You're still here, which must mean that you'd rather be here than anywhere else! Hey, where are you going?! I thought you were gonna stay here and keep me company?! *drags reader back* See, I knew you'd stay! *gagged reader glares* What's that? I know this is the best site ever, thanks for the compliment! *reader starts inching towards freedom* I better go...I think that I may have a problem brewing. I'm back. And very concerned about this new, younger generation (all 10 year olds who were born in 1992) They are supposed to be the future. Instead they appear to be a nuclear armagedon in the form of a fifth grader. I chanced to have an interview with an informant from this evil generation (my little sister) who will be called Mrs. X for security reasons (no, she's not married, the "Mrs" makes it good as a disguise) I was quizing Mrs. X on Civil War History for an upcoming test in her classroom (whose location can not be devulged) Mrs. X seemed fluent in the subject. Using prior knowledge, I deduced that Mrs. X was full of crap. Out of sheer curiosity, I asked Mrs. X who participated in the Civil War. She immediatly replied "Clara Barton". I clarified, which countries fought in the Civil War. She answered: England, Russia, and (out of sheer desperation) Iraq. I believe that she was just listing countries she knows America has fought against. Now, correct me if I'm wrong...but Iraq? I don't know if Iraq even existed in the Civil War Era! Why on earth would we go have way across the world to fight them when we didn't even really need oil?!! Moving on, I finaly managed to coax my sister (I'm tired of writing Mrs. X) to tentativly guess that America fought in the Civil War. I mean, who'd a thought? America? Fighting in the American Civil War? In a moment of inspiration, I asked her who America fought. Her first guess was enslaved africans. Well, at least she knows that slaves were involved in the war. Before she could start listing all of America's enemies, I gave her a hint. I said "The Union fought..." With a crack, snaple and pop, some random synapses in her brain connected in the right order and she said "CONFEDERACY!!!" I was very proud of her, just as you would be proud of a two-year-old who has just announced: "I WENT POO-POO ON THE POTTY!!!!!" What I mean is, you wouldn't be very proud if the average person said that they just took a dookey on the toilet, and you wouldn't be very proud if they knew who fought against the Union in the Civil War. I confirmed that the Union was Northern and Free, and that the Confederacy was Southern and Slave. We resumed quizzing and she got every question on the worksheet correct. This is because she memorizes the questions. That way, she can pass the test without actually learning anything. You see, if you memorize stuff, you only have to remember that the answer to number 6 is Clara Barton for a week, rather than having to remember that Clara Barton started the Red Cross for the rest of you life. I sincerely appologize if anyone is offended by my view of memorization. I also would like such persons to immediatly leave my site. You don't belong here. You see...knowledge is good. If my sister...uh...Mrs. X were ever asked a question on the Civil War on a quiz show, she'd come up with nothing. With knowledge you can win money and the opportunity to look like a dork on national television. My sister is a big believer in the memorization system. I previous time when I was studying with her (American Revolution, this time) I was trying to help her remember the difference between the Patriots(Patriotic to America) and the Loyalists (Loyal to Britain) She didn't know what the word patriotic meant. I tried to explain. I asked her how you dress on the forth of july (she said nice) I asked what the colors red, white and blue were (pretty). I gave up in exasperation. More recently, I was trying to instill a sense of empathy and niceness in her. I asked her what the golden rule of christianity was. She didn't know. When I pressed her, she confessed she didn't know what chrisianity was. Completly defeated, I told her that it was the religion she practiced every Sunday when she went with her friends to church. This confirmed my suspicion that she only went so that she could have the use of the church's playground equipment. My family also strongly suspects that she stole $20 from the donation thingy. Anyway, that's my rant on the new generation that contains my little sister. When someone of her generation runs for president, I'm gonna do a complete background check. If they're anything like my sister, I'm movin' to Canada. Gotta go...the Russian-Brittish-Iraqi-enslaved-Africans are coming to defeat the Mexicans. I'm back! *there's that darn cricket again* And I have a genuine question to ask all of my loyal readers *cough-cough* Okay, here it is: Is it normal for a non-gender specific sibling to carry around various dead reptiles (snakes, turtles, lizards etc.) Furthormore, is it considered accepted behavior to talk to these dead reptiles, in a cooey, baby talky kind of voice? Finnaly, is it expected for said sibling's non-gender specific parent to encourage such behavior, citing "I was just like that as a child" as an excuse? It's an honest question as I fear that my non-gender specific sibling is weird. Who am I kidding? My entire family is weird. It's just a matter of degree. Hey, by the way. I'm sorry that my last few entries have been only about my various family antics. Although I can't see why you care, because there is a large probability that you do not exist, because I don't think anyone is reading this anymore. How discouraging. People need to make the time to waste time. It's a time honored tradition. Who'd thought that I could use time that many times in only a few sentences? It's been pretty quiet here lately, which is why I haven't added anything to this text in awhile. I know, you were just crushed that nothing new was happening. It's a sad, cold, cruel world out there and you had nothing to relieve the monotony of it. *sniffle* I feel so sorry for you! Next thing you know, you're internet connection will die. Well, too bad! Do you know I never even had a computer untill just a few months ago (that's why I'm obsessivly writing here) So I won't pity you if you're computer dies for unexpected reasons. Time for another quote from the FLAMING CHICKEN HANDBOOK!!! Code: 843 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook states that in no way is the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (guess who?) responsible for any faulty wiring or lack thereof in your computer. The Patron Saint of Paper Clips in no way wishes harm on your computer. Any derogatory statement is simply an opinion of an individual, not of the flaming order of the flaming chickens. Said order will in no way be held responsible for any damages, injuries, loss of life, limb, head, or organs. Okay, quote is done. Maybe I should put quotation marks around them...nah, too much work. But I probably will eventually get around to having a seperate page just for the FLAMING CHICKEN HANDBOOK. That way all the members (what members) can print out a copy of it for themselves (if they didn't get that copy in the mail) I guess I'm done for the day...I know. You want me to stay. It's okay. Because eventually, I'll be back! Seeya! I'm back. And once again suprised. When I was at a TAB poetry thingy (TAB is good TAB is great We love TAB) I met some new people. One of these people (who shall remain nameless untill such time that I have explicit permission to use her name) turned out to be almost as weird as me. As in...she read the ENTIRE Longest Text Ever. The whole thing. So far two whole people (to my knowledge) have read the entire thing, and a few people have skimmed it. That means I really can justify claiming to have two and a half readers! I'm so happy! That means my pointless obsession has actually entertained someone besides me! Perhaps, one day, far in the future, this will actually be a world record and random people will acutally voluntarily read this text every day. Or maybe not. The point is that it is nice to have readers. Or maybe it's not...I mean...won't the quality *snicker* of my work deteriorate if I am no longer writing for the target audience of me? If that happens, then no one will read this. And then I'll be writing for me again. And then the quality will rise. And then people will start reading. And then the quality will go down and the vicious spiral of good and bad will continue untill I either give up this text, or go crazy...er. In any case...I should probably find a topic. Yeah...a topic would be good. Or...I could just continue to write about finding a topic. Ooooo! I know a topic! Ice cream trucks! This has been bothering me for a while. You see...when it's hot, you want something cold to eat. Conviently, ice cream trucks come around during the hottest part of the year (it must be a conspiracy). As you may or may not know, small children swarm the ice cream trucks. The vendors even play whimsical music which I strongly suspect contains subliminal messages to make you hungry for ice cream. The vendors get oodles of cash, and the kids get ice cream. Now, in today's society of buying groceries on-line and getting them delivered, why hasn't any other food industry marketed this ingenius idea to bring the product to the consumer. I can just see Hot Dog, and Pizza trucks roaming the neighbor hoods, selling treats to hungry children...and adults. Of course, said adults would have to peel their butt-cheeks off the couch...but they'd have to do that for the delivary man anyway. The food trucks could even play music that made you hungry for their food. Then the problem with obesity in America would be blamed on evil food truck drivers as opposed to the harmless, benificient television and computer. We could all breath a sigh of relief as parents kept their children inside, away from the evil truck drivers and near the T.V. Gone would be the days when parents told children to play outside, it's a nice day. Parents would buy their children computers, video games and other television neccesities. This, of course would expand the market for such products. This would lead to a better, more stable economy. Food industires would be buying cars, gas and music. Parents would increase the purchase of entertainment items. In return companies would make a profit, pay their workers better. The workers would then be able to afford more entertainment items and the upward spiral would continue, as opposed to the evil downward spiral of my writing. In conclusion, Ladies and Gentlemen...if you implement my idea, there will be peace and prosperity for all. As long as you don't mind a few more couch potatoes. Gotta go...I think I hear a catchy jingle. I'm back...it's been awhile since I've written here. A lot has happened. Like my EVIL school computer deleting my updates page. But it's all good. Especially since I just saw The Matrix: Reloaded. The following text may spoil the movie for you, so WARNING: do no read this unless you have already seen the movie. Okay. What I liked best was the philosophy on choices. (the mindless fight scenes were really cool, too). It's like this. In the beginning of the movie, Neo is having dreams about Trinity's death. Later, The Oracle tells him that he has already decided her fate. Towards the end of the movie, Neo chooses to tell Trinity to stay out of the Matrix, since he saw her die in it. She agrees, but only after seeing how important it is to him. After a horrific chain of events (is it coincidence, or fate) the people who will deactivate the secondary power source of the building Neo is infiltrating, die. So...the plan is going to fail. Unless someone does something, Neo, Morpheus and many others will die. Trinity, who is of course outside of the Matrix, knows this and chooses to enter the Matrix to save the day. The events of Neo's dream unfold. So...when the oracle said that the choice had already been made, she was completely correct. The moment Neo woke from dreams of Trinity's death, he made a choice. He would do everything in his power to keep his dream from becoming reality. So he kept her out of the Matrix, and she saw the problem, and entered the Matrix to fix it. If she had been in the Matrix, she would have likely been with Morpheus, never would have known about the plan's failure, would therefore not have been in the situation that resulted in her death. And the plan would have failed and Neo might have died, along with a large portion of the city (the building was set to blow if there was any intruders) So...Neo's choice to attempt to save Trinity triggered the sequence of events that led to her death. As Neo realizes all of this, through a nearly omniscient Architect of the Matrix, he makes another choice. This choice is simply an extension of his original choice: he will save Trinity at all costs. Neo is told that he has two choices. He can save mankind, and doom Trinity. Or he can try to save Trinity and doom mankind. No guarantee that he'll succeed in saving Trinity. He goes for Trinity, makes it just in time to catch her body, and starts her heart back up. In return for not taking the easy route, he gains a power in the more or less real world. He can deactivate the machines, (squidies) but at great personal cost. The movie ends with him in a coma. Now, you must realize that I have described only one aspect of this movie of all movies. There are not enough words in the English language to describe the sheer coolness of the fight choreography, special effects and the plot. I highly recommend you see the movie yourself. I'm sorry that today's rant isn't random, insane or completely chaotic, but I must right my experience with The Matrix before I forget. I am so buying this movie when it comes out on DVD. I love it! You have to admit its sheer coolness. I mean, come on! It's the sequel to the movie that revolutionized the standard by which we judge special effects. I better stop typing before I have a heart attack...just remember...The Matrix has you...I'm back. And throughly pissed off at my school system in general. You see...they feel that the only way to reward academic achievement...yada-yada-yada...is to force the smart kids to be ushers for Senior Honor Nite, and Graduation. Where is the logic in this? I for one, didn't know about such dire consequences for not deliberatly failing classes. It was bad enough that I was forced to "volunteer" my precious time (i could have worked on this site)...no...I was forced to wear formal attire. My school system is stuck in the past...and formal attire means...a dress...a white dress...(for those you who never bothered to find out...I am indeed female). So...for the first time in about 5 years...I wore a dress...and something that was complelty white. What cruel fate is this? To compound the EVIL situation...I was forced to wear feminine shoes. In other words...they hurt. And they pushed my toes together. Since I have a rather weird phobia of touching my own skin...this made my evening my own personall torture session. I think that such gender-specific torture should be deemed inhumane and abolished from our great society...of flaming chickens. Henceforth...Code: 666 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that under no circumstance will the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (guess who) be forced to wear anything other than a t-shirt and preferably black jeans. Should you violate this right, you will become destroyed or possibly dizzy. I'm leaving now...I have some destruction to do. i'm back. from graduation. we had to get there one hour and fifteen minutes early because there was traffic. After standing around a lot...the ceremony started. Lots of people spoke. by the time I had to do my part (tell people where to stand before getting their diploma) it was dark. there were bugs. they liked landing on me. then...i got to go stand while people said a lot of stuff. i couldn't hear it because someone had put the speakers facing the audience. we clapped. the whole time, even during the name-calling, seniors were playing with silly string and beachballs. afterwards...they turned off the lights. there were lots of fireworks. i wandered around for 20 minutes looking for a cell phone. i called home, and waited another hour for my ride...traffic to the school was one way. i felt sorry for my dad. i am tired...but cannot go to sleep. i'll copy and paste this to my site. maybe the longest text ever. you will all suffer as i have suffered when and if you graduate. i cannot feel my feet. i hate dress shoes. I'm back. Today, I'm here to salute the Pointless Signs Of America! The PSOA have been whole-heartedly working for you, and what have you done for them? NOTHING! These so-called "pointless" signs are doing just what they were meant to do: entertain you! You cannot judge them simply because they have no apparant function. They expand your mind, making you think about all the things they could do. They could do anything they wanted to, if they just put their minds to it. If you judged everything by what it doesn't acomplish, then the entire world is populated by pointless beings. Noone can do everything, so how can you expect a SIGN, with the I.Q. of toilet paper, to do everything. You people sicken me. You expect far to much of the inanimate world. The inanimate world, on the otherhand, expects nothing of you. Which is exactly what it gets. If you expect nothing, and get nothing, you feel nothing. If you expect nothing and get something, you're happy. But, if you expect something and get something you feel nothing. And if you expect something and get nothing, you feel cheated. If you're following along, and not completly confused, you'll realize that it is better to be a pessimist than an optomist. Yep that's right. This entry went from saluting the PSOA to making a statement about my ideals. This has been a weird day. You can thank my associate "Meg" she came up with the PSOA acronym. Everyone, clap for "Meg".I gotta go...seeya later! I'm finnaly back! Today, I took a long look at this site, which is the acomplishment of almost a year of work. And I asked myself "How could I have better spent my time?" And so, in the interest of wasting even more time, I made a list. Here we go! Number One: I could have cured cancer. Not that I know anything about medicine...or cancer for that matter. But I'm sure that if I just would have put my mind to it, I could have done it. Number Two: I could helped the earth to find eternal and lasting peace. Which would be boring. So I at least have an excuse for not doing that. Number Three: I could have studied and stuff. Uh...don't think so...Number Four: I could have learned to drive. This would have resulted in the deaths of numerous pedistrians...and I would still probably be wondering around in search of a McDonalds. Number Five: I could have read more books, played more video games and watched more mindless television. Gee...I wish I'd thought of that sooner. Number Six: I could have implemented one of several plans for world domination. Or, as an alternative, I could have ruined several plans for world domination that other people made. Number Seven: I could drive people crazy. Wait...aren't I already doing that? Scratch number seven. And on to: Number Eight: I could have...uhhhh...ummmmm...actually thought up these things before hand. Number Nine: Now it's just getting redundant, isn't it? Number Ten: This is the list that never ends. Yes, it goes on and on my friend. One person, started typing it not knowing what it was, and they'll continue typing it forever just because this is the list that never ends, yes it goes on and on my friends, some person started typing it not...etc, etc. Okay...I admit it. I have officialy run out of ways I could have better spent my time. I don't think there actually are any. Except for maybe five and six. Now, those have possibilities. However, I am currently content to just sit here and type. For the benefit of you, the reader...who may or may not exist. Either way, I'm continuing to sort of entertain myself. I feel like I should be outraged about some topic or another. I just can't work up the energy to be outraged. Perhaps a nice, soothing mistrust. Yeah. I can work with mistrust. I definitly mistrust lots of stuff. Like organ grinders, and the evil conspiracies. Did you know, that Kodak was part of the conspiracy to assasinate John F. Kennedy. Now, some of you are probably thinking "Gee, Really?", or "Wow, I never knew that!" while others are thinking "Who's John F. Kennedy?" or possibly "Who or What is Kodak". I fervently hope that you're not thinking the last two...especially about Kodak. Kodak, as you may know, is a film developing company. And John F. Kennedy (JFK) was an alien bent on global domination. Or possibly a really good president who wanted to fly to the moon. Either way, he got assasinated. And ever loony in America decided that it was a conspiracy. Some even go so far as to claim that Kodak "changed" the pictures of the assasination to make an assasination in the bushes become a tree's shadow. I didn't know that they had such good technology back then. I have to wonder...why would Kodak do such a thing. Perhaps Kodak is actually a front organization for a shadowy governmental system that controls the entire world and didn't want mankind to obtain the freedom of the stars and so tried to sabotauge the space program even though it didn't work as well as they planned. Or perhaps not. Either way, Kodak is undeniably evil. How can any company that takes so many "wholesome" pictures not be? You can just bet that they look at every one that get's turned in to them, judging blackmail value, and whether or not you could get arrested. It's just sickening, you can't even take a simple photo nowadays. Unless you have a digital camera, which are a symbol of freedom from the old ways and willing enslavement to the new ways. We can only hope that the digital camera manufacturers are kinder masters than the evil Kodak Lords. I better go...I think Kodak is tracing my site....I'm back now! And, once again, I have proof that someone actually took the time (two hours) to read this entire Longest Text Ever! It's amazing, it's incredible, it's unbelievable. But true. Even more incredible, this time it's someone I don't even know! Wooooooo! I feel inspired and happy and other really good emotions and stuff. And so, I'll take a trip down memory lane, to the dark depths of the past, to when I decided to make this page. It was inspired, in part, by my sheer and utter boredom. In school, back before I even owned a computer, I'd type random words for long periods of time, 'cause I had nothing better to do. Once I got this computer, I decided to do something similar on my beloved site. But, it ended up making more sense than I anticipated (scary thought, huh). Oh, well...I tired of nostalgia. Back to the present. Right now, I'm just typing so that no one can say that I've been slacking off. I don't think I have any conspiracy theories...except pop-ups/pop-unders. Have you ever had the evil pop-up that says that if you click here, it'll get rid off all the annoying pop-ups? Isn't that sort of ironic? Could the pop-up blocker people have chosen a better means to advertise their product? It's like grand-theft auto 3's talk show, you know, the one where there are Citizens Raging Against Phones? Or CRAP, for short. And the lady representing them, calls the radio station...on a phone. It's stupid and ironic and just shouldn't exist in a better world. Pop-Up ad's help you get rid of pop-up ads? Insane, chaotic...hmmmmm...I wonder who thought of it? Was it on purpose, or was it just some mistake? It is now my civic duty to discover this ancient mystery, and reveal it to the uncaring world. Or maybe I'll go make a frozen pizza. Yeah. That sounds good, too. Since I'm not particualarly inspired at the moment, I should leave and let you gather what is left of your sanity. I just can't seem to stop, though. Okay...I can do it. I'm leaving. I'm back...and it's several hours later. I've decided to imortalize the stupidity of my dog, Moose. She is a heavy-set Yorkshire Terrior (12 lbs.) In otherwords, she's a small yappy dog who is big for her breed. Today, I met her arch-enemy. An enemy so terrifying that Moose cannot stop shaking. An enemy so hideous that Moose must destroy it at all costs. An enemy so dangerous that Moose fears it above all others. Now you may be wondering what horrible beast is Moose's arch-enemy. And you probably suspect that it is something pathetic. You would be correct in your suspiciousness...for Mooses arch-enemy is...*dramatic drumroll*...a small, white, feather. Now, Moose has seen many feathers, birds even. But none have struck terror in her little moose heart like this particular feather. So...naturally I put her arch-enemy in my pocket and brought it home with me. This action has made her very suspicious of where my loyalties lie. She tracks the feather smell all over the house, and goes crazy whenever I take it out of my pocket. She even got her sister and mother in the spirt of things. Now her sister sounds an alarm whenever she sees the evil feather. Now, you may be wondering what is so terrifying about a small, white, feather. So am I. It doesn't smell funny, (I asked my brother, since I don't have a sense of smell), it seems perfectly ordinary. So, I've decided that Moose works for some secret government organization, and that the feather is the key to the destruction of the world, and I am just blithely letting it enter our home, so that it may furthur its evil plans to destroy the universe. That is the only possible explanation as to why it upsets her so much. Or...maybe it's the feather off of the cartoon owl from the tootsie-roll pop comercials (one...two...three..*crunch*). Whatever the case, I decided that the whole world, (or three of four random people) deserve to know that if the world and or universe are destroyed, it's the evil, little, white, feather's fault. Now I'd better go and torture my Moose with it...:) I am officially back. And you, the potentially non-existant reader gets a once in a lifetime chance to hear me rant and rave about my Horrible, Horrible Family Vacation. I know. You feel very, very honored. It's like this. My mother is a control freak, and she decided on the spur of the moment that we were going north to visit relatives. Later that day, she decided we were NOT going north, we were going south to a beach resort. Still later that day, she got offended at some trivial thing and decided that we weren't going anywhere at all. The very next day, she decided that we were going north, after all. So, we packed everthing up. Before we knew it, we were on the road. The first part of the trip was fairly easy. As in, I was half-asleep, hoping that we'd arrive while I slept. Then, in an inspired move, my brother talked my mother into letting him sit up front. That meant that my mother would be in the back, with me and my younger, eviler sister. Immediatly, my mother started complaining. It was uncomfortable in the back, it was too hot, it was too cold. Then, she accidently woke our three yappy dogs up, and they relized that they were in a car. That meant only one corse of action for them. They started shaking and barked their little heads off. This annoyed my mother further, untill she asked, no, demanded that my father turn the car around so that we could go home. Unfortuantly, we had already driven 337 miles toward our destination. After much argument, my father was going to turn around, untill he realized that my mother was going to drop the dogs and me off, and then turn around and continue north. This seemed slightly unpracticle, so we ended up not taking that 337 mile detour. We eventually reached our destination after 16 hours of virtually non-stop driving. We got there, we ate. We slept. My mother visited relatives. And so the week went by. I got to go to a huge library, and see Terminator 3 at the local theater. That was the high point of the entire trip. The last day, we were deciding where to eat. My mom said that she didn't care. So my dad picked a steak place. My mother tried to order a mushroom-swiss burger...only to discover that the place had no swiss-cheese. So she decided on a salad, only to discover that they didn't have her favorite salad dressing. After much deliberation, she decided that she wouldn't eat. After complaining how hungry she was, and about the poor quality of the resteraunt, she walked out of the resteraunt, instructing the rest of us to "enjoy our meals". And I wonder where my little sister gets her annoyingness. Not that my mother is annoying...just set in her ways. The whole meal thing was about the only interesting thing to happen during the week. On the way home, we had gotten approximatly 4 hours into the trip when my mother predicatably decided that we had to go back and eat at the 50th aniversary of her favorite ice cream place. Needless to say, we ignored her. Oh, and when my sister had to go to the bathroom very badly during a traffic jam, my mother had the good taste to making hissing/water noises to make my sister's problem worse. She claimed that my little sister always did it to her, and she was getting pay-back. Between her bickering with my sister, and obsessivly playing neopets games, I don't know what to do with her. Anyway...that was my family vacation rant. It sucked. No suprise. At least it's over. Sorry if I complained a lot. If you don't like it, start your own longest text ever. Anyway, I promise to go back to my usual routine the next time I rant here. I thought of a topic on the way home, but forgot it. Seeya. I'm back! I know, I took you completly by suprise. You thought you'd gotten rid of me. *cheesy super-hero voice* Well, fear not, random citizen, for I, PSOPC am here! *normal voice* Today I have a very important to discuss with you in this: PERFECTLY NORMAL PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCMENT. Yes, that's right. It's time to warn you, the viewer...er...reader...about the evils of various stuff. Today's lesson is: subliminal messages . That's right, folks, mass hypnosis via commercials. Now, I'm sure you've at least heard of subliminal messages , right? No? Well...prepare to be enlightened. Subliminal messages are an advertising technique that puts hidden pictures and words into a main image. You don't see them, but your subconsious (dreaming) mind does. Your subconsious mind acts on whatever it is told. What does this mean to you? It means that WAL-MART TV IS EVIL! EVIIIIIIIIIIIIL!!!!!! Why else would they invest all that money to show commercials in their own store? Because they put subliminal messages in them, of course! Subliminal messanging also explains the successes of certain fast-food resteraunts, and brand name items. BEWARE YOUR TOASTER OVEN! Okay. That had nothing to do whatsoever with subliminal messages...it's just cool to say. Anyway, only watch wal-mart if you WANT to be subliminaly entertained into purchasing a new set of TUPERWARE, even though your old set is PERFECTLY fine. This has been a public service announcment. Pretty cool, huh? Uh...you don't have to take the subliminal stuff seriously. It's true, and all, but I have no proof about wal-mart, or certain fast food resteraunts. It makes sense, though. Wal-mart TV is evil. You cannot deny it. Seeya...hmmm..I wonder if there's subliminal stuff in my computer...I'm back. And I feel that it's time for a FAKE commercial break, for the highly informed, obviously brain-dead consumer. And now, a word from our non-existant sponsor. Ketchup: The only food that you'll want to eat after traveling to the 5th Dimension. It's been practically proven that Ketchup transforms into a highly intoxicating (non-addictive) delicious substance upon returning from the 5th Dimension. Stock up now with our Valu-Pak to recieve 3-metric tons of Ketchup, all for the low, low price of your brain, since you're obviously not using it anyway. Then, just wait for technology to "catch-up" (get it, catch-up, Ketchup?)so you can travel to the 5th Dimension like our scientists almost did. (Next Commercial) Get ready fo: Faux's new "reality" TV show, "How Low Can We Go?" It's about six contestants who compete to create the worst, least likely "reality" TV show. The winner not only gets the million-dollar prize, they get the chance to produce the show they created. Remember: if the show sucks, it's their fault, not ours!(Next exciting commercial!)And for all the idiots out there: Try new and improved Dum-B-Gon! Dum-B-Gon stimulates brain activity, making you up to 10 times smarter! Not only that, Dum-B-Gon: stimulates weight loss, cures "any" illness, does simple houshold chores, never leaves the toilet seat up and is the perfect gentle companion for your kids. How can you pass up this revolutionary new product? It's yours for only 3 bi-monthly payments of $3.95 ($3,95,000 on days ending in "y")Don't forget, Dum-B-Gon is practically guaranteed!* (*Not a guarantee) (Next commercial)Have you ever wondered why food sometimes goes bad in your fridge, even if you've only had it a few years? It's because of the "evil little faeries with sharp little teeth." These "faeries" sprinkle your food with highly toxic "age dust" and ruin a perfectly good four-year-old meatloaf. How do you stop them? With our patented "spray". Our "spray" kills over 99.9% of "faeries" (which are much to small to see) Our "spray" also kills most disease causing agents, like rats, or pigeons. WARNING: Leave food sit in an open, well-venilated spot for a week before eating. And now, back to our featured presentation. Wasn't that semi-entertaining? I bet you wanna go eat some Ketchup covered Dum-B Gon right now, while watching "reality" TV. Just make sure you "spray" your food first. Pathetic, wasn't it? Oh, well. I was bored, and a dilligent reader suggested I make fake commercials, so...therer they are. Happy? Good. I'm leavin', for now. I'm back. And I'm willing to enlighten you, the potentially you-know-what reader. Today, I was checking out some weird news. At one point, I read an article that stated that it had been proven, conclusivly, that Kansas was flatter than the standard pancake. The researches even used highly advanced technololgy to map the surface of a pancake and compare it to documented geology of Kansas. Some people disagree, the director of the Kansas Geological Survey said "I think this is part of a vast breakfast food conspiracy to denigrate Kansas. It's a cheap shot." So...doesn't that make you want to take Kansas' side (I sincerly appologize if you are from Kansas). It just seems extremly weird (and worthy of mentioning) that this semi-important guy from Kansas believes in a "vast breakfast food conspiracy". Makes you think that the long held belief that Kodak conspired with the JFK assasin(s) is normal. Another article claims that an anitseptic turned a polar bear purple, drawing large crowds of people. I sure hope other zoos won't copy them. Before you know it, we'll have orange alligators, pink tigers and blue lions. School children won't be able to correctly identify the color of a zebra. Random people will think they've gone crazy, after a seemingly innocent visit to the zoo. It's wrong, I tell you. A complete and total degregation of our societies values. What values, you say? The basic moral belief that Polar bears should be WHITE. Unless we spray-painted the snow purple, too. Then it would be okay. As long as the bear blends in, you know? Speaking of animals, there's a cat in California who is a kleptomaniac (likes to steal stuff). He sneaks into neighboring homes, and takes clothing, wrapped christmas presents, and anything he can find. He then leaves them under his owners car. Okay, better leave. I'm back. And I don't really have a topic today. I'm just bored. Sometimes I just do this, you know? Start typing without any idea about what it is I intend to say. Maybe I subconsiously DO know what I'm doing here, but refuse to admit it to myself. Or maybe I am monumentally bored and don't have anything else to do at the moment. Either way, I'm here. You must be pretty bored, too. Otherwise, why on earth (beta, krpto, zkdjf, Planet X, whatever) would you be here? It would make no sense. If you have something better to do, why wouldn't you be doing it right now? I would be. But, maybe that's just the difference between you and me. Yeah. That must be it. Unless you're bored. Then I completly understand. I need to find a topic. Here, topic, topic, topic! Come on, I won't hurt you, I promise! *hides large ax behind back* Come here, topic! Why are you afraid of little ol' me? *sigh* There are no topics anywhere near me. Kinda like me and "Meg" webcomic we are trying to do. It's called Hit-Or-Miss, any topics, plot, etc. are completly accidental and are not the fault/responsibility of the creators. That was sort of a topic, even though it was sort of random. Which is what I do best. Okay, I'm done with that litte commercial. What now...hmmmmm...should I share with you more of my paranoid/delusional conspiracy theories? Or have I been doing that too much lately? Oooooo! I know, I'll start of list of why it's fun/good to be insane/weird! #1You can say or do anything and normal people will agree with you in the hopes that you'll be satisfied, shut up, and go away. Far away. I will show you an example with this completly true stuff that I experienced several years ago. ME: My vicious, psychotic, flesh-eating bunny-rabbit wants to rule the world. RANDOM PERSON: Uh-huh, that's nice. ME: Yeah, but I told her that she'd be a terible ruler. I mean, she traded Asia for a carrot! And she doesn't even LIKE carrots! RANDOM PERSON: You don't say? ME: Yep. She also is the goddess of red jello. RANDOM PERSON: *head explouding from sheer insanity* As you can see, I was a very weird child (this happened in elementary school...uh...except for that head-explouding part). Okay...on to: #2 You can get out of practically anything by saying: a)It's against my religion b)I'm allergic to that. c)I have an extremly irrational fear of that. d)I already did that in a past life and it sucked. e)My psychotic bunny predicted I'd die doing it. Unfortunalty, several of those reasons LEGITAMITLY apply to a certain activity I do every Tuesday, which WILL NOT BE NAMED HERE LEST I GIVE IT POWER OVER ME! I'm allergic to parts of it, have irrational fears about others and I'm pretty sure it's against my Jenny religion...along with eating mashed potatoes, or potatoes of any kind. I'll add that to the FLAMING CHICKENS HANDBOOK. Thou shalt not eat spuds. Hmmmm...time for #3You can obsessive over ANYTHING, and people will think nothing of it. I, personally, am obsessed with, kitties, bunnies, bats, this website, drawing, making intriate little patterns with strings, doing mildly repetitive activities, being weird, apparantly making lists and cheese...and chickens...and flame. Fire is good. Fire is free. Fire is my friend...until it burns me. Then it must die...painfully. And on to:#4You make your friends look normal in comparison. And #5: You can give each of your pets several weird names such as: Ringling-Raison-Bailey-Suzana-Midnight-Schultz, Squirell, Moose, Moose-Moose, Moosey-Moose, Linzey-Moose, Muffin, Squirell-Muffin, Yabby-Doodle, Abby Normal, Wiggle-Baby, Wiggle-Muffin, Witle-Baby, Cheese-Monkey, Muffin-With-Squirell-Juice, Squirell-With-Muffin Juice, Moosey-Juice, Squirell-Monkey, etc. Now, wasn't that a fun list!? Doesn't that just make you proud to be weird? I should make bumber stickers saying that. Proud to be weird. It'd be cool. Anyway, gotta go! *yawn* I'm back. Last night I was super-charged with lots of sugar and not a lot of sleep. I ended up writing things during the time of night when EVERYTHING is hilarious, including the word sheep. To compound things, I wasn't alone, and things just escalated. The following is everything I wrote during that sugar-coated time period. Some are answers to e-mails, the rest are just stuff I wrote.

Definitly. THen we go to library. Guess what? Me and Josh ate lots and lots of sugar, and it's late at nite and everything is funny but we can't laugh 'cause everybody is sleepin' so it's even funnier but ever since we drank the water we sobered up even though we weren't drunk but we ate sugar...lots and lots of sugar. MOstly donut cake. Okay. JOsh says it was only one piece of cake. WE got it at Wal-mart. Or his mom did. OR something. Goodbye..

[lotustories]

Define: Love

Pairing: Jungkook x F. reader

Type: fluff, angst, possible smut

Warnings: rude behavior, vulgar language, mentions of alcohol use and sexual activity

Chapter Navigation

Chapter 3

“I want everybody to grab a syllabus and a partner and discuss it.” Your music professor shouted. The girl before you passed back a few papers. You grabbed them, passing one to the boy next to you who shyly grabbed them. Too nervous to find a partner you sat there quietly, reading it to yourself before a voice interrupted you. “Do you want to partner?” His voice soft, almost inaudible. You met his eyes, giving a small smile as you nodded. “I’m Yn.” You Introduced yourself, the kid smiling in return. “Yoongi.” He positioned his body toward you. “Sorry for asking, they’ll quiz us on each other to see if we spoke to our partners. I saw you didn’t find a partner and I really didn’t want to get up.” You shook your head. “No, It’s fine. Im just terrible at starting conversations.” You admitted and he smiled bigger. “I understand that. I probably wouldn’t have spoken to you if not for the quiz.” He admitted. “So what made you take this class?” You asked and he perked up. “I love music. I really want to be a producer.” You listened, he went on for a few minutes talking about how music is his real dream, but he was also taking architecture as a fall safe. “I’m more into writing, but music was a passion of mine since I was little. This is more for fun. I really want to learn how to expand my writing and learn backgrounds to music.” You paused. “Producing seems fun, but I’m not sure I’d be any good at it.” You finished and he smiled. “I mean, you won’t know if you don’t try. This class is mainly based around our interest. She usually sections class into three parts. Well learn about lyrical composure first, then we learn about beats or sampling and how to incorporate it into your work, and then producing which mashing it all together.” He beamed. “Well maybe one day we can write a song together. I write, but I also sing.” He bit down on his smile. “I produce, but I also rap.” The professor rang her bell, everyone’s attention turning back to her. The class ended quickly, you exchanged numbers with yoongi and went to your next class. Psychology. Most the seats were filled already, except one in the very back. You didn’t recognize the person next to it until you got closer, but it was too late. Class was starting so you sat down quietly. Trying your best to not bring attention to yourself. The entire class you tried your hardest to not look at him or meet his eyes. you had psychology clas with jungkook. He hated you already and you were seated next to him. All professors went by the You sit in it, it’s your seat until the end of the school year. “I want everyone here to prepare themselves for a partnered project in a few days. You will partner up with someone in here, pull from the hat on a topic. One of you has to agree and the other has to disagree. You’ll discuss why you agree with the topic, why you think that way, and you’ll understand why the other disagrees and why they think that way. I’ll go into more detail when I’ve prepared more topics for you, but just know it’s coming and it should run a month. Yes,” she fake gasped as she stopped explaining. “It’s a month long project.” She mocked. “So i suggest whoever you get partnered with, you take the time with each other to become friends.” You’re dismissed, jungkook rushes out from his seat to leave. Dropping a slip from his folder as he ran off. By the time you reached down to call for him, he was gone. The piece of paper in your hand, your peeked. Jeon Jungkook, please make your payment for camera repairs. Due date: 14 days from notice received. Failure to do so will result in pawn. Amount due: $605.98

The camera you broke. The notice was sent a couple days ago he only had a week or so to claim his camera or else it would be pawned. You looked for a number of any way you could contact jungkook, but it was useless. The slip only contained the information for the shop. Finally leaving the room and with your classes being over for the day. You headed back to your dorm, unfortunately you ran into Jada before you could reach it. “What’s this i hear about you going on dates, with Jimin nonetheless.” She stopped you, her eyes shooting daggers through you. “Uh, who said that.” You played stupid. She only rolled her eyes and swallowed her attitude. “Jimin is off limits. If you’re going to date, date your own grade.” She snarled before walking off. Bitch. When you entered your building Jimin was on his way out, stopping as he noticed you. The biggest smile plastered across his face. “Hey beautiful.” He hugged you. Pulling you into tightly as you squealed. “How were classes?” He sighed, his classes were barely starting. “They were good, are you barely going?” You motioned to his books and he nodded. “I don’t wake up as early as you.” He licked his lips, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek. “I have to go, but maybe we can hang out after?” He ran off before you could answer. Your classes ended so early, you had no extra club, so you decided to explore. So many shops were hiring, they seemed to be on every other door. A shop in particular caught your attention, you opened the door to a old school 50s themed restaurant. It was pretty much empty, but most kids were in class right now. “Good morning, Welcome to Vixens. Take a seat and I’ll be right with you.” Their voice chimed. “Uhm, hi. I was just wondering. Are you still hiring?” You questioned and they immediately looked up. “Oh god yes.” They laughed rushing over to you. “Hi, my name is V. I own the shop.” They clasped your hand in theirs, shaking it slightly aggressively. “We are desperately hiring, are you interested?” They started, speaking quickly not letting you answer. “It’s 14.50 an hour. It would be from noon to 8.” They paused, but before you could speak they continued. “Weekly Pay plus 100% of your tips.” You couldn’t help but smile. “Do I need an application or is it online?” They immediately pulled you into a hug. “Don’t need it, you’re hired.” V pulled you toward the back of the restaurant, sorting through paperwork for you to fill out, handing you a uniform and some name tags. “You can write your name on them, and I hope the uniform fits. If you need a different size, I can order them.” V slid a packet over to you. “Since were a restaurant on campus, I just needed your student ID. The forms auto fill after that. You can start Thursday.” You looked outside to the two customers entering. “Will you be okay today? You seemed kinda relieved when I said I was looking for a job.” You joked. V smiled and pushed you out the door. “The first week of classes we’re usually slow. Next week is when I’ll really really need the help.” Ushering you out the door, you laughed at their energy. 2:50pm. You had no clue what to do now, you finished class, applied and got a job, but now you had the rest of the day ahead of you with no clue as to what to you.

You: when are your classes over?

Jimin: not til 7 princess, what’s up?

You: nothing, just don’t know what to do lol

Jimin: find the courtyard. There is usually activities like dance and music until 9.

You: what would I do without you?

No reply.

You tried your best to find the courtyard with the terrible signs the school offered. The sound of music and cheering ringing in your ears as you edged closer. There was a group of kids surrounding one kid dancing. Popping his body to every beat, not missing one. You instantly became mesmerized by him. Watching him dance effortlessly to every song that came on. The variation of music and his ability to dance to whatever was admirable. The entire time he smiled, if you could tell anything from watching him. It was that dancing was his passion. “Hoseok,” a voice made you jump. “You scared me.” you relaxed when you noticed amber. “You’ve been staring at him non stop since you started standing here.” She laughed. “He noticed.” She whispered, just as she said that he looked over to you. His eyes meeting yours immediately making you shyly look away. “He’s cute, he goes to our parties every now and then. Not much of a hookup guy tho.” She wiggled her brows. The music changed and her eyes widened as she looked up to the figure standing near you now. “Hi, hobi.” She smiled. Your head snapping to the boy in front of you now. His heart shaped smile making your stomach drop. “Amber.” He nodded to her. “And you are?” He smiled down at you. For a moment you forgot how to speak, but amber covered. “Our newest addition. Yn, unfortunately you have to attend Saturday’s party to know more.” She dragged you away. Hoseok smirking at her tactic as he watched you be dragged away. “Party Saturday?” You asked and she nodded. Her arm around your shoulder as she walked you back toward the main campus. “Yes, don’t worry it starts later than our last one.” She stopped in front of a coffee shop. “I have work,” she sighed. “Oh! And try not to get into trouble with Jada. She has liked Jimin for the longest. He won’t give her the time of day, but he seems to really like you already.” She watched your carefully. “She is the petty type.” She waved you off before entering the shop and disappearing. You looked around. Unfamiliar with the area. Where the fuck am I. You spun around a few times, trying to find signs that led you back to your building but all you could see were more restaurants. “You look very much lost.” A voice called out from behind you. Turning your eyes met with the cute barista from your first day. “Joon, right?” He smiled, walking closer to you. “I never got your name.” He stopped in front of you. His work apron in his hand, dressed in his uniform. “Yn, hey.” You started looking at the signs again. “I’ve never been this way. How can I get back to the co-ed building.” You looked around and he snickered. “You can go this way.” He pointed behind you down the pathway. “Think of the school as a giant circle.” He smiled. “If you walk with me to work, it will be just a few more minutes down the way.” He started walking and you followed behind. “So, co-ed huh?” He threw the apron over his shoulder. You hadn’t realized how tall he was until he stood beside you. “Yeah, it was what they gave me.” He nodded. Looking down to you while you spoke to him. “Freshman or sophomore?” He paused. “Freshman, nevermind. You wouldn’t have been lost if a sophomore.” He teased. “I haven’t really had time to explore. I never went on a tour.” You groaned and he laughed. His laugh was somewhat horse yet soft. It was warming. The familiar cafe signs came into view and you knew your walk was coming to an end. “Just keep walking down this pathway and you’ll eventually come back into your building.” He pointed down the campus. “It was nice talking to you, hopefully you’ll visit me at work some day.” He gave a soft wink before leaving you to go to work. Watching him slid his apron on quickly and effortlessly over his head. You made your way down the path he pointed and like he said, you eventually ran into your building.

Your first day of classes has gone unexpectedly well. Aside from getting lost occasionally, school has become a fun place for you to be. You’ve met so many new people. You weren’t even sure you wanted to go to school in the first place. everything was going to well, But was college going to be like this throughout the rest of the year?

[straycatsacademia]

Nerd vs. Jock: Kunikida vs. Chuuya

Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs

Ship: Kunichuu, tiny bit of Dazatsu

Chapters: 1/?

Summary: Kunikida Doppo is just trying to finish high school and pass his college courses when Nakahara Chuuya, the most popular boy in school, starts to sit next to him in class.

Read it on Ao3

It was the first day of senior year, and Kunikida Doppo could not be happier. He was taking half high school half college classes so by the time he entered college he would already be a sophomore.

He had everything planned out and was already ahead of schedule. He walked into class and sat down, immediately taking out his books and setting up his notebooks.

After a few minutes, it seemed everyone had taken their seats, and no one sat next to him. He was used to it. Most of his friends were at the college he went to in the afternoons or had already graduated.

A lot of the kids his age were intimidated by him, which was fine with him as he was usually left alone. Except right before the bell rang, a kid with red hair and bright blue eyes came running in, reluctantly sitting in the only seat next to Kunikida.

Of course Kunikida recognized Nakahara Chuuya, one of the most popular people in school. All of the girls wanted him, and most saw him as a bad boy. Including the teachers.

“Chuuya, if you prepared more you wouldn’t have to run into my class,” the teacher scolded.

“It’s not my fault school starts at the crack of dawn,” Chuuya mumbled.

The teacher rolled her eyes and started taking attendance.

They immediately started going over the syllabus and Chuuya groaned.

Kunikida would never admit it, but he agreed with Chuuya. High schoolers should know common sense by now, and they’ve all heard the syllabus 500 times.

Finally they got through the syllabus and Kunikida could hear Chuuya snoring beside him.

“So Chuuya, how many tests are we going to have this semester?”

Kunikida sighed, arguing internally with himself. On one hand, it’s Chuuya’s fault he fell asleep. On the other hand, even Kunikida was close to closing his eyes.

Nudging him with his elbow, he woke up Chuuya. Kunikida notioned toward the teacher.

“So? Your answer?”

“Uhh….”

“Five,” Kunikida muttered.

“Five?”

The teacher narrowed his eyes at him but returned to the board.

Chuuya coughed into his arm. “Um, thanks,” he whispered.

Kunikida just nodded his head and went back to planning out his schedule.

The bell rang, and Kunikida was surprised when Chuuya turned to him again.

“Weren’t you the guy Dazai Osamu was partnered with for last years project?”

Kunikida’s eye twitched. “Yes, and you can have him back,” he growled.

Chuuya laughed. “Hell no, that bastard is all yours. My condolences though,” he said.

Kunikida snorted. “Thanks, I need it,” he smiled.

Chuuya’s eyes widened, as if he was surprised Kunikida was actually capable of smiling.

All of a sudden, Kunikida heard someone call Chuuya’s name.

“Right, well, we better go. Thanks again for helping me earlier,” Chuuya said as he walked out of class.

“No problem,” Kunikida replied, and he couldn’t help but wonder if he had any other classes with him.

The rest of Kunikida’s morning classes went smoothly, and it was finally lunch-time.

He sat at his usual table with Katai. Yosano and Ranpo usually sat with them but they had graduated.

Not that it really mattered, he and Katai would see them in the afternoon for their college classes anyway.

Kunikida was surprised when Dazai Osamu also joined him at their table, with a seemingly nervous freshman tagging along.

“Hey Kunikidaa!”

Kunikida rolled his eyes. “Why aren’t you sitting at the Mafia’s table?”

The popular kids were called “the Mafia” as no one wanted to mess with them.

“Am I not allowed to join your presence Kunikida? Besides, I don’t think I fit in with them anymore…” For a moment, Dazai’s eyes turned sad.

Everyone knew about Dazai Osamu and Oda Sakunosuke’s friendship, considering it was so unlikely. Dazai was the cocky bad boy, usually Chuuya’s partner in crime. Oda was known as the nicest guy here, and Kunikida had to agree.

Oda graduated last year and moved away, and despite how much Dazai annoyed Kunikida he couldn’t help but feel pity for how lost Dazai seemed to be without him.

“Well, introduce us to your friend then,” Kunikida said, changing the subject.

Dazai’s eyes brightened again “This is Nakajima Atsushi! He used to be home-schooled, so I volunteered to show him around!”

Kunikida nodded at Atsushi. “Hey. Word of advice, do the exact opposite of whatever Dazai tells you,” he smirked.

“Hey!” Dazai whined.

To Kunikida’s surprise, Atsushi laughed. “Yeah, unfortunately I learned that the hard way,” he smiled at Kunikida.

As they ate, they talked to Atsushi about high school and asked him about home-schooling. Kunikida turned around to look at the clock to see how much time they had left when he noticed Chuuya staring at their table.

He immediately looked away when he saw Kunikida’s glance, but Kunikida had to wonder how he felt about Dazai joining their table.

After lunch it was time to head to college, which was personally Kunikida’s favorite part of the day.

After classes he hung out at the lounge with Ranpo, Yosano, and Dazai to study. Well, Kunikida was studying. Dazai was doing nothing.

“So, I heard you helped Chuuya out this morning,” Dazai told him.

Kunikida stopped his writing. “Where did you hear that?”

“Come on Kunikida, you know I have ears everywhere,” Dazai winked.

Kunikida rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I helped him, so what?”

“I’m just surprised you helped a “bad boy” like Chuuya,” he smirked.

“I helped you, didn’t I? Besides, I wanted to get back to learning,” Kunikida defended.

“Get back to learning the same syllabus we’ve heard 100 times?”

Kunikida sighed. “Look, he ended up sitting by me because it was the only empty seat. It’s not like I’m going to have to interact with him again,” he insisted.

However, the next morning, Chuuya was actually as early as Kunikida, and sat right next to him. Even though they were currently the only two in the classroom.

Kunikida was even more surprised when Chuuya brought out his syllabus and started to look it over in preparation for the syllabus quiz.

Chuuya immediately caught Kunikida staring. “What? Aren’t you going to look over it too?”

Flustered, Kunikida nodded and also started studying his.

Soon enough, Chuuya’s friends walked in.

“Yo, Chuuya, why are you sitting next to the nerd?”

Kunikida flinched. He was used to being insulted, sure, but he was hoping to get by this semester with just being left alone.

“That’s a lot of talk for someone who failed basic geography,” Chuuya responded.

Kunikida’s eyes widened, along with Chuuya’s friend.

“Dude, you know that teacher had it out for me!” he whined.

Chuuya snorted. “Sure he did, Tachihara,” he responded.

Tachihara and his other friends sat right next to Chuuya, which meant they were also next to Kunikida. Dazai was going to laugh his ass off when he found out, and Kunikida couldn’t help but wonder how he got himself into this mess.

The second day of class went by smoothly, the syllabus quiz was easy and Chuuya and his friends actually seemed to be paying attention during class. Once it ended, Chuuya looked at Kunikida.

“You know Dazai is a manipulative bastard, right?”

Kunikida looked at Chuuya, confused. “Weren’t you guys close?”

Chuuya snorted. “Not willingly, no. Look, you actually seem like a nice dude, so take my advice. Stay away from Dazai if you don’t want to get hurt,” he added, and with that, he walked out of the classroom.

Kunikida didn’t really trust Chuuya, but he also wondered why Chuuya would warn him about Dazai, what could he possibly get out of it? It didn’t seem like he was trying to get Dazai back, and what did he mean by he wasn’t willingly close to Dazai?

Thankfully, Dazai and Kunikida got to the lunch table before everyone else.

“Dazai?”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you really here? Sitting at our table? And don’t tell me it’s because you don’t fit in at the mafia’s table, I know you didn’t give up that popularity and security just because you felt like it,” Kunikida asked.

Dazai took in a deep breath, looking more serious than Kunikida had ever seen him. “When Odasaku graduated, he told me to try to be a better person. To help others, and to hang out with better people,” he said. Then he looked at Kunikida.

“Once he said to be with better people, I knew that you guys would be the best influence. I know I’m not a good person, but I think I can try a little harder,” he smiled at Kunikida.

Kunikida gaped at him. He couldn’t believe Dazai was being so open with him.

He thought for a moment. “You know, I think Oda would be quite proud of you,” he answered. Dazai’s eyes widened.

“Being a good person isn’t easy. It takes a lot of work to be vulnerable, and I think the fact that you’re trying to be better means that you have the capacity to be a good human being,” he added.

Dazai looked down at his food. “You really think so?”

Kunikida nodded. “I think Atsushi is a good influence on you too,” he teased, and Dazai turned red.

At that moment, the rest of their friends showed up. They all had a nice lunch, talking and laughing like they usually do, and when it ended, Dazai walked by Kunikida to head to the bus.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Kunikida nodded, and when they sat by each other on the bus, it was in a comfortable silence.

[karenninaaa]

Iron Dad Bingo #1

AN: wheew! glad to finally cross out something after staring on that bingo card for days! i love this au so much so i took the liberty to play with this idea. also i love tony stark interacting with kids! there would probably be a lot of plot holes and inconsistencies but whatever.

Unbeta-ed Chapter.

enjoy!

Summary: In which, instead of Mr. Harrington, Mr. Stark was the head of the Decathlon team at Midtown Tech. 

(alternate events of Spider-Man Homecoming and Tony never recruited Spider-Man for Civil war. Though CW still happened (lets just fit everything within the timeline :D)) 

For Irondad Bingo:  Au: Teacher and Student

--

Chalk and Rebel

Peter could feel Mr. Stark’s piercing gaze at him. The science teacher and the head of the school’s Academic Decathlon Team remained quiet when Peter had broken out the news to his teacher that he couldn’t go to Washington for the Decathlon competition. He was sitting adjacent to Peter and arms crossed on his chest.

“Can’t you take one weekend off?” Finally, Mr. Stark asked sitting up straight. This time, he settled his one elbow on the desk. “It’s nationals. We’ve been preparing for this for weeks.”

“I-I’m sorry. I really can’t, Oscorp internship is really strict and-”

“If you were interning for Stark Industries, things like this wouldn’t be a problem.” Mr. Stark said shaking his head.

“W-wait, what’s happening?” Cindy, one of their decathlon teammates, asked. She was sitting behind the desk on the stage.

“Parker is not going to Washington because apparently, the internship was more important to him,” Flash said who was sitting at the far behind with his feet propped on a chair. He was holding their reviewer booklet.

“Flash,” Mr. Stark called in warning not bothering to look at him.

“You can’t really go, Pete?” Abraham asked who was sitting next to Cindy.

“Really? Right before the Nationals?” Liz was standing behind a podium. Dismay was evident in her voice.

“He already quit the marching band and robotics club.” Michelle piped in from the corner of the stage. All heads turned in her direction.

“I’m not obsessed with him, just very observant.” Michelle defended.

“Flash, you’re in for Peter.” Liz glanced back at Flash.

“Oh, I don’t know, I have to check my calendar first. I’ve got a hot date with Black Widow coming up.” Flash answered looking down at his booklet.

Abraham rang his doorbell. “That is false, right Mr. Stark?”

“I’m not quite sure about that, I haven’t seen Widow in a while and why did I tell you about abusing of the bell?” Mr. Stark said then turned to Peter. He relented. “Fine, you may not go but it would be such a shame that you wouldn’t be with us. This kind of competition just happened once in a while you know.”

Peter’s eyes wandered on the stage where his best friend sat. Ned Leeds was looking back at him. Ned was the only one who knew the real reason why Peter couldn’t go to the competition.

Three days ago, Spider-Man discovered a group of robbers stealing in a bank one night. They were using weirdly looking and enhanced weapons. Unfortunately, they got away after Spider-Man chose to save Mr. Delmar’s bodega that had been hit by the said tech. However, they might have gotten away but a piece of tech fell out from that weapon. Ned was holding that tech for safekeeping since his best friend was the only person who knew his gig as Spider-Man. And now, Peter was going to use the weekend to track down those robbers. The whole Oscorp internship was obviously a lie because he quit the internship months ago when he had gotten so busy being Spider-Man.

Peter felt bad for lying to Mr. Stark. After all, Mr. Stark was the coolest teacher he ever had. He remembered freezing in his seat when Mr. Stark casually strolled into the classroom and introduced himself as their new science teacher. He remembered feeling giddy, because the person he had been idolizing his entire life, was standing in front of him and whom he could now see every day.

--

“Can’t you just ask Mr. Stark about the glowy thing? Maybe he can help you out or something?” Ned whispered to Peter as they walked through the hallway full of students milling around.

“I just couldn’t bother him with that,” Peter glanced at Ned. “He’s probably so busy being a teacher, Iron Man, and an Avenger.”

“It’s just that, he’s always feet away from you most of the time. He’s got a lot of resources. You could probably ask him for tips about this whole superhero-ing.”

“But, I got you,” Peter smiled at him. “My guy in the chair?”

“Oh stop that,” Ned waved his hand at him in dismissal, though he was visibly pleased with the title.

“See you later okay? Same time?” Peter said.

“Fine and bring some chips on your way to my house later,” Ned replied.

“You got it.”

--

In all honesty, Peter had a lot of questions.Often times, he would find himself faltering on his way out of the classroom as everybody had dispersed out and he was the only one remaining standing next to the desk. There was one time when Tony Stark was erasing the writings on the whiteboard and Peter was dumbly standing there. He should be leaving but the things that he wanted to ask Mr. Stark left him rooted to his spot, things that he didn’t know how to voice out loud. Tony turned around and paused when he saw Peter was still there.

“Mr. Parker.” Tony put down the eraser on the table. “Is there something wrong? Or do you have questions about our earlier lesson?”

How do you deal with bad guys and still looked cooler?

Where are you getting that huge amount of courage when facing life-threatening situations? Cause I still get scared most of the time.

How do you deal with failure when things had gone wrong in a mission? Have you ever failed? Cause you looked like someone who did things in perfection.

How to be a great superhero like you?

“N-nothing, Mr. Stark, t-the lesson was great, I learned a lot today.”

“Well, that was the goal.” Tony sat on the edge of the table crossing his arms. “And because of that, I expect you to be ready for our quiz tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yes, Mr. Stark.”

Tony nodded. Peter was about to walk away when he paused once again. Instead of asking the questions that had been swimming in his head, he asked a different one.

“Mr. Stark?”

“Hmm?”

“Why did you suddenly become a teacher?”

“I need a change of pace.” That was all his teacher had said. He glanced at the window. Rays of sunlight were seeping through the window making Tony’s brown eyes appeared to be lighter. For one second, Peter could see his teacher’s tired and worn out eyes. There seemed to be more wrinkles on the side of his eyes. He looked sad and resigned. Another question popped in Peter’s head, a question that would probably stay unanswered.

--

“I told you they’re gonna come back!” Spider-Man was swinging through the buildings chasing a gray truck zigzagging on the street.

“Yep, but the cops are moving too slow. Your bad guys are quick and smart. Are you closing in on them?” He heard Ned answered through the Bluetooth earpiece under his mask. His phone was on the pocket of his red hoodie, his improvised costume. Well, not everyone was as reach as Tony Stark to make cool superhero outfit. Meanwhile, Ned had a walkie-talkie that was intercepting the signals of other walkie-talkies used by the cops. That was how they were able to get some news from NYPD.

“I am!” Another web shot out from his webshooter. It hit the wall of a building nearby. Spider-Man made a great swing like a pendulum and landed on the rooftop. He ran and used his web to leap off another building. “And I would never let them get away. They were our only shot on knowing the source of their weapons.”

Spider-Man had been chasing the same robbers who were using enhanced weapons. They successfully robbed another bank. They immediately fled before Spider-Man could even reach the scene. When he was sure that no one got harmed on the scene, he switched to plan B and the chase was on.

As Ned had predicted, the robbers lost the cops. Spider-Man continued to tail them until they reached an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the borough. The truck went into the warehouse as he quietly sneaked in by crawling on the wall. The robbers, seven in total, climbed down the car whooping in joy because of their successful heist.

Spider-Man crawled in closer to them but not close enough that he would be noticed.

“This is awesome!” Robber no.1 guffawed. “I can’t believe those idiot cops fell for our bait.”

“But of course,” Robber no. 2 piped in. “This wouldn’t be possible without our babies.” He patted affectionately the weapon he was holding. It looked like a shotgun but bulkier and instead of bullets, it was shooting off a laser beam that could cut through almost anything. Spider-Man had witnessed how it worked earlier.

Another roar of laughter echoed among them.

“Hey, have you heard that boss is going to Maryland for another heist?” Robber no.3 said to Robber no.4.

“Is that at Crain Highway? I’ve heard some of them talking about it.” Robber no. 4 said. “It would be fun if we could join that heist. It is going to be one of our biggest heists so far!”

“Maryland huh?” Spider-Man mused as he crouched on the steel frame of the ceiling looking down at the robbers.

“That was too far,” Ned said.

“But not too far from Washington,” Peter supplied.

“I think I know what you’re thinking,” Ned replied.

“Yep, we can’t let these bad guys pulled off another heist,” Peter said. “But first off, let’s web these people up.”

And so Spider-Man leaped in action.

Soon, patrol cars surrounded the warehouse. The cops had found the robbers webbed up in different areas of the warehouse. Another cop had found a letter from Spider-Man webbed on the wall, letting them know that they were the robbers from the earlier heist.

--

Peter jogged towards the bus that was parked on the school grounds. Their bus wasn’t your ordinary yellow school bus. It was a private air-conditioned bus owned by Tony Stark. Once Tony had a full look of the bus they’re going to use for their future out of town decathlon competitions, it only took three seconds for him to decide to replace the school’s old and cranky bus with a luxury one, with built-in speakers and fully automated system run by Tony’s very own AI, Friday. His decathlon teammates were lounging next to the bus with their luggage.

Tony Stark climbed down the bus clapping his hands and calling the attention of the students. “Alright guys, it’s time-”

“Hey, it’s Peter!” Abraham cut in and pointed at Peter. Everyone looked in his direction

Tony Stark turned and saw Peter approaching them. He smiled at the teen.

“I-I was hoping I could rejoin to the team. . .” Peter said.

Flash walked up to him. “No way! You can’t just quit on us and strolled up and be welcome back.”

“Actually, he can,” Tony butted in. He patted Peter’s shoulder. “Welcome back, Pete and Flash you’re back on being the first alternate. Come on guys, let’s all get into the bus.”

When they reached their destination, the group walked through the lobby of the hotel where they would stay for the night.

“Wow, this place is huge!” Charles marveled looking around.

“Kids, stick together,” Tony instructed as he talked to the facilitators of the event sitting behind the desk.

Soon, Tony gave them their keys to their designated room. Ned and Peter were roommates and retreated to their room. Later that night, Peter suited up. He wore another hood and jeans to hide his suit.

“Just ring me up if something happens,” Ned said who was sitting on the bed. “Be careful.”

Peter nodded. “Yeah, I’ll do my best to be back before the competition starts.” Then he headed out of the room. “Keep the glowy thing safe. That would be our evidence.”

Ned nodded picking up the purple glowing stone on the table.

Peter closed the door behind. He sneaked through the quiet and dimly lit hallway. He made another turn around the corner. “Shit!” He cursed under his breath. He backtracked immediately and hid behind the wall.

Peter slowly poked his head from his hiding spot. Tony Stark was walking towards his direction. Thankfully, Tony hadn’t seen Peter yet since he was looking down on the phone on his hand. Peter leaned back on the wall and took a deep breath. He looked at the railing on his left. He took a few steps back. Then he ran straight to the railing and jumped off. Web shot out and stuck on the railing. Gravity took over. Peter twisted around and swung towards the floor below. He safely landed on the ground.

Meanwhile, Tony Stark paused and looked up. He blinked on the empty hallway.

--

Peter hitched a ride on a car carrier truck towards his destination. At first, he thought that he had gotten lost along the way. He reached his destination and jumped off the truck a while back and was walking along the darkened road. He stopped at a gas station and crawled towards the roof of an abandoned bodega.

Peter looked around and muttered. “Is this really the place or the Google maps is wrong?”

It was then that three trucks came lined up together. Suddenly out of the sky, something with huge wings came down. Thanks to Peter’s enhanced senses, despite the darkness of the area, he easily figured out that it was a human with mechanical wings harnessed to him.

“Oh, that’s the boss!” Peter straightened up, more alert.

Big Bird anchored himself to the truck that was on the rear. He dropped down and disappeared inside the truck leaving his wings strapped to the roof of it. Peter swung towards the truck to investigate.

He also dropped on the roof and looked closely. The roof had gotten a rectangular hole thanks to the small stones placed on 4 corners.

“Woah cool, this looked like some kind of a matter phase shifter!” Peter said in quiet awe.

When the masked man emerged from the hole, he dropped the bag on the roof to retrieve the stones. That was Peter’s opportunity to web up the bag pulling it towards him.

“Hey, Big bird this doesn’t belong to you!” Spider-Man quipped.

Big bird turned to him with green glowing eyes. He growled at Spider-Man.

“Oh, god,” Spider-Man said, a bit startled by his eyes.

Big bird attached himself to his wings, retracting his strap anchors. He flew towards Spider-Man. Spider-Man ducked down and stepped back. He shot Big Bird with his web but the latter dodged it. He charged at Spider-Man again, taking the bag from him with his feet claws. There was a tug-of-war between them as no one wanted to let go of the bag. Then, Big Bird kicked the bag and letting it go. Spider-Man toppled backward and into the hole. He fell with a thud inside the truck. He immediately stood up and was about to jump off the hole again but ended up banging his head unto the concrete metal roof.

Spider-Man blacked out.

--

Ned Leeds was already dressed and pacing back and forth in his room. It was already morning and Peter was not yet back. He tried calling him but Peter wasn’t answering the phone. He was worried about Peter’s status and also about what alibi he was going to tell the team, especially to Mr. Stark about why Peter was missing.

“Ned? Peter?” Liz knocked on their door. “Come on guys, we’re gonna be late!”

“Y-yeah! Coming,” Ned stuttered. He quickly grabbed his bag and the glowy thing on the bed and headed out.

--

Peter woke up with a dull pain on his head. He guessed that he had a mild concussion from hitting his head earlier.

“Ugh, my head?” He groaned and observed his surroundings. He was surrounded by metal cages containing junk techs. “Wait, where am I?” The gears on his brain started to turn. “Wait, they must have hijacked the truck and had taken it to their evil lair.”

“I must find a way out of this one.” He briefly stared on the wall ahead. He squared his shoulder and ran straight to the wall. With his superhuman strength, the wall broke. Spider-Man rolled on the ground. He stood up in a fighting stance.

Spider-Man blinked. The place didn’t look like an evil lair. It looked like a huge storage warehouse with rows and stacks of huge container boxes in it.

“W-where am I?” He turned around to get some clue as to where he was. He paused. On the wall, there was a huge DODC-VO5 written.

“DODC?” He muttered. Then it dawned on him. “Oh come on, you’ve got to be kidding me. Am I in a Department of Damage Control facility now?”

--

Tony Stark gathered his student in the backstage. Any second from now, his students would be called to be on stage and the competition would start.

“So, guys,” Tony said to them. “No pressure, alright? Just enjoy the competition.”

“Hey, Mr. Stark,” Abraham said. “If we win this one, pizza is on you, yeah?”

“Sure,” Tony said without missing a beat. “We’re gonna have a celebration party if you win.”

That seemed to boost up the team’s morale as they cheered upon hearing the news. He looked at everyone and noticed something.

“Ned,” He called a certain teen. The teen was hiding behind Charles and was quiet the whole time.

“Y-yeah, Mr. Stark?” Ned answered peeking from Charles’ back.

“Where is Peter Parker? You two are roommates.” Tony asked.

All the team’s attention was now on Ned who was fidgeting with his yellow coat.

“I-I don’t know, Mr. Stark. . .” Ned answered.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Tony frowned.

“He sneaked out last night, said that he was going to study in the business center and he didn’t come back.”

“And you’re just telling me this now?!”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark. . .”

“The next team that will participate in this year’s Decathlon competition is from Midtown School of Science and Technology!” They could hear the emcee speaking from the stage.

The team was quiet and seemingly didn’t know what to do about their teammate’s sudden absence.

“Flash, you’re up on Peter’s place.” Tony finally decided.

Flash punched the air in delight.

“Come on guys, Go on stage.” Tony forced an encouraging smile on them. “Go kick some butts!”

He continued to smile at them as the team disappeared on the stage. That was when Tony’s smile slipped off. Peter Parker was many things. He was hella smart for his age that sometimes, Tony couldn’t help but to remember his youth when he was Peter’s age. He was aware that the kid had potentials, potentials that could take him anywhere he wanted. Yet, it was the same potentials that were giving Tony Stark an incoming headache.

--

Peter’s first thought when he reached the 246th sequence trial on overriding the time lock of the storage vault was, he wouldn’t make it to the Decathlon competition. He still didn’t know how he would explain it to Mr. Stark and not get into any trouble. He tried calling Ned earlier but a secured facility like this; he should have known that the signals would be jammed. Though, getting in trouble with his teacher was for later problems to brood over, when there was an even bigger problem before him. He just couldn’t wait for the vault to open up later or for who knows how long, so he took it in his own hands to find a solution.

Somehow, he managed to find a way to navigate through the wirings of the time lock. He used his scientific calculator and wired it to the circuit to control the system. He needed some sort of password to open up the vault so far, he was on 246th combination of the code and probably counting.

“Right, here’s 247th trial. . .” He punched in the codes on the calculator.

To his surprise, the door slid up and opened.

“Oh my god! It worked!”

--

The Midtown tech team cheered as they exited the auditorium hall. They won the national, thanks to their group effort, especially to Michelle Jones who gave the answer on the Sudden Death Round. The group was taking pictures when Ned checked the phone that was given back to him after the competition. There were 5 missed calls from Peter. Then his phone rang. Peter was calling.

“Peter!” Ned hissed walking away from the group. Unknown to him, Tony Stark was looking at him.

“Where were you?” Ned continued when he reached an empty and short hallway. “You completely missed the decathlon, we won! We’re still here at the building.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry, I got locked up at the Damage Control facility-”

“What?”

“Yeah, long story, I’m just gonna tell you afterward. I’m on my way back there. How’s the glowy thing?

“It’s safe, it’s in my pocket-”

“Hey,” A voice came from behind Ned.

Ned turned around putting down his phone. There were two unknown guys standing before him. They were tall and bulkier and had a menacing look on their faces. And when Ned looked down, he could see a gun peeking out underneath the jacket of one of them. Though, Ned was sure that both were armed. How did they get in despite the security, he didn’t know.

“Ned?” Peter was still on the line. Ned dropped the phone on the ground.

“Where’s the gem?” The guy with long hair and cap asked stepping forward.

“W-what gem?” Ned stepped back.

Long hair dude raised a small rectangular machine. There was a red and blue light on it and it was beeping. “This thing is reading high energy signatures from you. You have the gem.”

It must be the glowy thing, they were after. Ned thought. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Ned continued to step back.

“Alright, you die or you’re gonna give us the gem.” The other man, the bald man, fished out his gun and pointed it at Ned.

Ned was frozen in his spot in fear.

“Hey!”

Suddenly, there was a deafening shockwave that momentarily paralyzed the two men, even Ned. Then there was a blinding light. Ned got yanked away by someone, away from the men.

When Ned returned to his senses, he looked up and saw Tony Stark was dragging him away.

“M-Mr. Stark!”

“Who are they and why they were after you?”

Before Ned could answer, gunshots echoed. Tony and Ned ducked down. People around them started to scream in panic and ran away.

“Shit.” Tony pushed Ned into the corner, into the safety. “Stay there!”

Tony stood up and tapped his chest twice. Blue light glowed in his chest as the detachable arc reactor underneath his shirt activated. Nanites seeped through the fabric and spread around his body. His nanite mask covered his face, eyes glowing blue.

“Fuck, that was Iron Man!”

“Hell yes, that was me.” Tony flew towards them, his hand repulsor aimed at them. However, to his surprise, the bad guy whipped up his weapon and shot off a purple laser beam. Tony raised both his arms shooting off a similar laser beam. Two laser beams collided. When the energy of collision was too much, it exploded throwing both parties away. Though, Iron Man immediately regained his stance. There was thick smoke everywhere. The fire alarm was blaring. His students were still there and could be in danger. A lot of civilians could get hurt

So Iron Man flew straight to the smoke, using the smoke as a cover. He knocked down the weapon from the bad guy’s hand. Then he grabbed hold of the two of them and went straight to the nearby window. The glass shattered as Iron Man flew out of the window. He dropped the bad men unto the lawn and aimed his repulsor at them again. The two men remained laying on the ground as Iron Man hovered over them.

“So, why you guys are after a kid?”

Friday was doing a facial scan on them but none of them were on FBI’s wanted list, which confused Tony even more.

They remained quiet even though, fright was evident on their faces.

“Oh, so we’re playing bad cop and good cop here? I don’t have all day.” Iron Man fired his repulsor above their heads.

“W-we’re after the gem! The kid has it!” The bald man replied hastily, shaking in fear. “Please don’t kill us!”

“What gem? What is it for?” Iron Man asked.

Before Iron Man could get anything from them, there was an explosion from the building where they had come from. Iron Man glanced back at the building. There was smoke coming out of it and a huge chunk of wall was starting to collapse from the third floor. There were civilians down below right where the wall could drop and crash them.

“Fri, what the hell happened there?”

“An exposed Chitauri core has detonated,” Friday said. “A section of the wall was about to fall off.”

“I’m not done with you.” That was all Iron Man said as he flew away from them and towards the building.

--

As Spider-Man reached the building where his teammates were, all he could think was, his best friend was in danger, because of the glowy thing he entrusted him with. He webbed up his backpack somewhere as he ran towards the auditorium hall. They must somewhere near there. He used the Fire Exit staircase to reach his destination. He was on the second round of stairs when he heard a gunshot.

He froze. Then he started to imagine the worst. He swung his way up faster.

The Fire Exit door burst opened. People ran for the stairs against Spider-Man’s direction. Spider-Man fought his way against the tide. Then there was a sound of an explosion.

“Excuse me, coming through!” Spider-Man shouted dodging people left and right.

But then when he reached the floor, Smoke was everywhere and Iron-Man zipped past him holding two men towards the window and out of it.

“Holy shit, what the-!” Spider-Man was flabbergasted.

“Spider-Man!”

He turned to see Ned running to him.

“Ned! Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine!” Ned answered which was to Peter’s relief. Then Ned fished out the glowy thing from the pocket of his coat. The glowy thing was brighter. Ned continued hastily. “There were two guys who were after this. I don’t know, they were able to track this thing. Then Tony Stark came and saved me.”

“I know,” Peter said. “I’m sorry, you almost got in danger because of that and because of me. Give me that.”

“It’s alright.” Ned gave him the stone. “Wait, is just me or the glowy thing was hotter than usual?”

Peter accepted the stone and Ned was right. It felt like the stone was burning in his hand. His glove was started to blacken. Ned looked at Peter in panic. It mirrored Peter’s expression.

“Get back!” Spider-Man shouted. “All of you get back!”

“W-what are you going to do?” Ned asked stepping back. Some of the people listened to Spider-Man as well and some were even more confused as to what was really happening.

Spider-Man turned around. He threw the stone to the wall next to the shattered window and webbed it up. He coated it with a lot of webs until it looked like a white cocoon.

“This better works,” Spider-Man muttered.

Soon, the cocoon glowed purple. Spider-Man stared at it and so were the civilians and authorities who were on the scene. As if all of them were anticipating on what was going to happen next.

Then, there was a blinding purple light that they all had to cover their eyes. Afterward, there was another sound of an explosion. People screamed.

The light was gone. And when Spider-Man looked up there were cracks on the wall, quickly spreading out like a web. Moments later a huge chunk of the wall started to fall off outwards. Spider-Man webbed up the wall. With all his might, he pulled it in. He couldn’t let it fall back when there were civilians down below.

He pulled harder, his feet sliding on the floor. Suddenly, the chunk of wall moved inward easily without even Spider-Man’s effort.

“What?” Spider-Man let go of the web as the wall fell on the ground with a thud.

Iron-Man was floating right outside the hole. Everyone cheered.

--

Tony Stark had enough as he watched the news of the earlier incident in Washington on the holographic screen in his lab at Avengers Compound. Fortunately, no one had gotten hurt from the incident. Thanks to Iron Man and Spider-Man’s immediate rescue. The news believed that it was rogue shooters who just wanted to wreak havoc in the place. Their faces were now on the wanted list and the authorities were searching for them.

Then he gazed at another holographic screen where the feats of Spider-Man showed. He should have talked to that young vigilante sooner. He should have come to Peter Parker before he got himself killed in one of his adventures.

He knew for a while that Peter Parker was the one under the mask. After all, he was keeping tabs on people with potentials who could be trained as an Avenger.

Peter Parker was the reason why Tony Stark chose Midtown Tech to teach, so he could keep an eye on him and see for himself what the kid was like when he wasn’t playing hero.

Well, what he had discovered about him exceeded all his expectations.

Peter Parker was the kind of kid who refused to pick up a fight with his bullies. Instead, he avoided it when he could have easily won the fight because of his abilities. He was this bright spirited boy who could easily be awed by simple things. There were so much wonder and curiosity dancing in his eyes and who was so eager to know more about the world. He was this kind of kid who would not hesitate to step forward and help when no one would and could. There were just so many things ahead of him and Tony could see all of that.

That was probably why he hesitated to recruit him for Avengers.

There was a future waiting for him and Tony didn’t want to steal it from the kid. So he remained quiet and watched from the distance instead.

But he couldn’t watch now when he discovered, thanks to Ned’s phone he hacked down earlier when the kid was on stage competing, that the kid was actively chasing criminals that used junks from Chitauri’s as weapons. Peter had disappeared last night to do another chase. Tony was also aware of Peter’s lie about Oscorp’s internship, but he initially didn’t know why the kid couldn’t join. And for whatever reason, he came back and Tony learned the reason why later on.

Tony reached for his mug of black coffee on the table and sipped. He was about to put it down when a hand reached for his mug instead.

He looked up to see Pepper smiling down at him.

“Hey, hon.” Tony smiled back.

“You’re watching him again,” Pepper noted as she sat on the armrest of the chair Tony was sitting on. She sipped on the mug and blanched at the bitter taste of it. His fiancée was the type who put lots of cream on her coffee.

“I swear, that kid is gonna kill himself sooner or later.” Tony leaned back on the chair. Pepper leaned on him as she put her arm on the top of the backrest of the chair. She crossed her legs resting the mug on it.

“I told you, you should mentor him so he would know how not to kill himself with his little adventures,” Pepper said.

Tony looked up. “Do you think I’d be a good mentor?”

“You are a teacher now at his school, do you really need to ask me that?” She raised an eyebrow at him.

“That was different,” Tony argued.

“Oh, how different?”

“Being a teacher was easier because you’ll gonna spout things that came from a book but mentoring someone to be a hero? I don’t think I have the right qualifications for that. You knew I screwed up far more many times that I could actually count on this superhero business.”

“Oh, Tony,” Pepper put down the mug on the table and wrapped her arm around his shoulder. Tony leaned into her as he rested his head on her stomach.

“Yes, you screwed up a lot of times but you are also the type of hero that always fights for what was right and doing your damn best to protect this vulnerable place. And I think that was the most important thing of all. So get your ass up and just mentor the kid, the kid needs someone who could guide him, that job will suit you.”

Tony closed his eyes and smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”

With that Pepper stood up. “I’ll just be in my office.” Then she paused when she had noticed the papers and notes laid haphazardly on the table. “What are those?”

“That, my love, is my lesson plan for next week and test papers that I haven’t checked yet. But first off, I have to be somewhere.” He stood up.

Soon, Iron Man flew into the night sky.

Iron Man set his course to Peter’s apartment. He wasn’t even nearing his destination when Tony saw something he truly didn’t expect nor imagine happening.

Tony didn’t expect to see Peter Parker on the way, falling from the sky, a hundred feet to the ground and falling at a speed that could totally kill him on impact without something that would slow down his descent.

There was a screeching sound from the sky. Tony looked at the source of the sound. His night vision scan could see a man with mechanical wings. Tony had a lot of questions as usual, like how the kid had gotten himself in the air and been thrown down by a mechanical devil out of nowhere. But questions could wait; he had a spiderling to save first. After all, spiders couldn’t fly.

Tony dived down towards Peter’s direction increasing his thrusters. As he neared him, he could hear Peter screaming.

Iron Man zoomed in and grabbed Peter before he could hit the lagoon. The mechanic teacher made a loop in the sky before changing his flight course towards the Avengers Compound instead.

--

“So, uh, you knew the whole time that I was Spider-Man?” Peter asked in a small voice as he played with his mask. He was sitting on the couch of Tony’s lab.

Tony was looking down at him with arms crossed on his chest. “You know that wasn’t the issue right now, you could have gotten died! What-why are you even up in the air?!” He threw his hands in the air.

The kid, again, was a lot of things and one of them was giving Tony a consistent migraine, vertigo, aneurysm and all other kinds of headache. The mentoring wasn’t even starting and Tony’s hair was starting to turn gray quickly.

“The guy with wings threw me down. I was chasing bad guys then he swooped in and dropped me on a hundred feet.” Peter explained.

Tony took a deep breath. “That’s it! I am going to mentor you if you’re so sure about this career path and please remove that onesies, you’re going to have a new suit.”

And all Peter could say was, “W-what?”

Tony rolled his eyes and turned around. “Friday, unlock 16-A.”

At the far end of the lab, the wall shifted and slid open. A big glass transparent cylinder emerged. Inside the cylinder was a new Spider-Man suit. Tony walked to the cylinder. He glanced at Peter who remained frozen in his seat with wide eyes staring at the suit.

“Your new suit.” Tony knocked on the cylinder for emphasis.

Peter finally stood up as he walked in a daze towards the cylinder, still staring at it.

“T-that’s mine?” Peter asked stopping in front of the cylinder.

“I just said that,”

“Thank you, Mr. Stark!”

What surprised Tony, even more, was when Peter hugged him. He froze on the spot while the kid squeezed the oxygen out of him.

“This is so cool!” Peter exclaimed pulling away. “I have a new suit and Mr. Stark is going to mentor me! You’re not just going to be my science teacher. This is the best moment of my life! I have an awesome mentor and dope suit. Oh my god!”

And with that, Tony had a fleeting thought that maybe mentoring this kid wasn’t going to be that bad after all.

[peeterparkr]

thank u, next|patience|t.h.

One taught you patience.

summary: your exes all knew you had a constant in your life: Tom probably was way more than a friend to you, and after unfortunate events, misconceptions and misunderstandings, Tom and you might finally just give up, maybe you weren’t meant to be.

a/n: Hey! Thanks for the support! Seriously thank you! Now, BEFORE YOU READ THIS: I CHANGED THE NAME OF THE EXES but ya know, they don’t matter, it’s Tom who matters. Whatevs I love you all. 

warnings: implied sex, swearwords, a mess, James Corden and Graham Norton

pairing: tom x reader

word count: 3.7k

LOVE | PATIENCE | PAIN

series masterlist

masterlist

You were wondering if you should or not answer the quiz. You didn’t. You stood up finally from the warm blankets and stared at your reflection. Thinking about your past love life wasn’t exactly a dream come true.

Oh gosh, you had made many mistakes. Who was the biggest one?

Shawn? No, you had loved Shawn. He had been the one to push the right buttons to help you make you smile. It was a good start, good, good, good start.

You walked over to the window, it was raining, the day was cold and you were not in the mood to go out. It was just a call away, just a simple call away. You stared at your phone and looked through your contacts, it was easy. But it couldn’t be as simple.

So you decided you needed to clear your mind. You needed to get ready before the night, which, hell, was it going to be awkward.

You were going to go to the Graham Norton Show, and to your luck, your dear ex, Harry was going to be there.

Just thinking about how things had ended made you shiver, it had been a lie that relationship, a way to make you forget. To help you avoid the blue. Harry had been understanding, yet… It didn't feel right.

You went out to the streets of London, alone. Maybe you were better off without him. So many nice words had been said, silly in love.

It was awful being lonely at these kinds of times, because whenever you were lonely you thought about him, the good times, the smiles, the kisses.

You started to remember.

The constant headache you were familiar with wasn’t helping while you were trying to fall in love with Harry. Ah, and that headache had a full name. Tom, that was his name. And it was a name that stuck out in the crowd. Let alone his last name, which for sake of the story will remain unnamed, for now, because honestly, you knew it too well. Ugh, damned Holland. But you got the catch. Yes, your next relationship had been at the expense of the rebound. And it hadn’t been the best. Because, of course: his lips reminded you of Tom’s.

After that night you and Tom had shared you had decided you wanted more than just a game, you wanted to keep tasting the sweet poison of his lips. It took you no time to realize Shawn hadn’t been a match, he was young, stupid and probably not the right man for you, yet he had come in the right time. Oh, but what could you do, you were a sucker for the wrong guys. He had been another one.

Yet, Tom wasn’t. Tom wasn’t just another guy to add to the list. And if it wasn’t the fact that you were keeping him as a secret.

You kept seeing each other, in an innocent way. Completely innocent...Ha, who were you kidding? There was nothing innocent about that. You see, around your breakup, Tom’s breakup had happened. So of course, you both had agreed, or not agreed, but just at the same time decided that you’d use each other to forget the past memories.

You were lonely, you needed someone and having Tom around maybe meant something. But there couldn’t be only sex, because it couldn’t be like that.

If you were honest to yourself, it happened a few other times, maybe twice, or three times? Who’s counting, anyway? You both were helping each other or more like you gave each other company.  It was a friendship, or maybe it wasn’t but, oh well. You never talked about it. It wasn’t planned, no, not planned at all. Or talked at all. Were you supposed to talk about it?

That night that had started it had been stupid, completely stupid. Or was it? Because your head on his shoulder fit and your hands would play with each other because some kisses on foreheads would warm your heart. Nah, it was completely platonic. Or so Tom tried to make it.

Soft talking, playing gently, smiling warmly, and you were floating away. He had you completely wrapped around his finger. And you had been hiding it for so long because no one should fall in love with the close people. You didn’t want him to let you down, and that meant having nothing with him.

Yet, you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering how it would feel to have a statement.

After your breakup with Shawn, you were having way more fun, you were hanging out more with your friends, and especially you were around Tom more.

No, Shawn hadn’t been all that bad, he had been good. Good person, honestly. You had learned a lot from him. For instance, it was a relationship that had made you happy, while it lasted. Shawn had been nervous around Tom, of course, he was right. He had taught you, you could love.

Enough about that, not long enough, already every single gossip magazine, tv show and site was talking about your breakup. People were talking about how devastated you were. You’d laugh about it, sure it had been bad but you definitely weren’t in your room crying. Oh, no, because you had fallen in love.

Something you had to admit was that with Shawn you had realized that you were able to love, no, it wasn't just something of a fairy tale. And Shawn, oh he had loved you. He had fallen with you deeply, but you didn't just let yourself fall completely. Because, of course, you had bad luck. But Shawn had taught you it was okay to fall, it was okay, take the risk, fall in love.

You were the one with the bad reputation, you were the one who kept dating. Being afraid of feeling was just the price life had set you to live. Because it seemed like every time you dared to give your broken pieces to someone, they crushed it and broke your heart even more.

And it took you a while to get used to the attention, and to the paparazzi asking about your breakup. Why did they have to know it? They were just reminding you to keep crying. Tom would make you happy, however.

But Harry, Harry came along.

You had met him, funnily enough, in an interview with one of the night hosts, they made you play this game which basically involved spilling all your secrets, or else eating something disgusting. Corden had had a great time with that, you didn’t of course. One of the questions had involved Tom, and that had been awkward. But you had answered it simply: ‘No, we are friends!’

What a big fat lie. No, that was not a friendship, but hey they didn’t have to know. Besides, you were just a little ball of fear. You were a great actress, though, you were hiding the fact that you couldn’t stop crying.

You had moved on. You were convinced that you were better off without him, you could finally breathe, be yourself, start again, cleanse your soul.

But it was fun, it certainly was fun.

And Harry kept flirting the whole interview, but it didn’t go there, no, it was just the start. As usual, you didn’t flirt back, you’d just smile and nod away the awkwardness. Yes, you knew you had a bad reputation but that didn’t mean it was true.

Yet, you saw him, Harry was at some awards show, and you talked. And after him asking and asking, you gave in. He had asked you out.

Obviously, Tom was the first to know about it. You were having an amazing time with him, you were going out, on dates? Were they dates? You weren’t sure and you were too afraid to ask at that point. Yes, there was kissing, but no there was nothing more than that, just hugging and in some cases, kisses on cheeks. It didn’t go beyond that, or did it? A few times, it did.

The whole relationship was weird, you didn’t know what else would happen.

So, the day Harry had finally asked you out, you decided it was a moment to tell Tom.

The conversation was a satire.

“So,” you had talked after the credits were rolling up, you had been watching a movie, a classic, which you hadn’t actually watched because you had had your head focused on Harry. You had your head on his shoulder and you had a blanket covering both of you. You were wearing one of his hoodies. It had been a quiet time, just watching a movie, keeping company. Was that a relationship?

Tom had just looked over at you and smiled, just before throwing some of the left popcorn. “You didn’t pay any attention to the movie,” he pointed out.

“I was...thinking,” you spoke with your voice soft.

“Dangerous pastime.” Tom frowned as he watched you.

“Nothing has been stated,” you continued as you watched him. He shrugged.

“About?” Tom frowned, and then stood up.

“Harry asked me out,” you blurted it without even thinking. It was easier and quicker. Just get the thing done, y/n, get the thing done.

“Oh.” Such a powerful word when it comes to answers. That ‘Oh’ could mean a lot of things, good and bad.

A part of you wanted him to stop you, you wanted him to say: ‘Oh, but aren’t we a thing?’ ‘Oh, I was going to ask you to be my girlfriend?’ ‘Oh’, ‘Oh’, ‘Oh.’

His answer, however, wasn’t what you expected.

“Oh, are you going out with him, then?” Tom smiled. “You should, he’s handsome.”

That hadn’t been the sentence you had wanted after the Oh. It was OH, so different. Needless to say, you were brokenhearted. He had stepped on your heart.

And that, that was the reason why you hadn’t opened up. You had stopped, to think. You needed to distract yourself from that.

“Uh, well, I probably will,” that had been the official statement.

And you had gone on a date with Harry. Harry, or how you decided to call it, your distraction. Your official way to get Tom out of your head.

And you were trying, and trying not to think about it, because oh boy, it felt wrong. It was wrong, to have someone else while you were thinking about Tom. In each kiss, your soul was a traitor.

You were thinking about Tom.

How could you fight it? You couldn’t if the heart had already made a decision, and if Tom had already decided it, if Tom had decided he wanted nothing with you, then that was it. No, he wasn’t meant to be for you.

And it hurt, it hurt. But if he wasn’t for you then you wanted all the stars to fall of the sky because no, Tom was what you wanted.

How could you resist?

You kissed Harry’s lips and it tasted like Tom’s. You wanted to say Tom’s name, and you had to stop.

You needed to resist. But Tom’s lips hurt because they were poison.

You needed to convince yourself that Tom wasn’t for you.

Soon enough, people were talking about you and Harry, you were the new couple, and you received both hate and love. And time after time, you started to fall for Harry, eventually.

But each time Harry wrapped his arms around you all you could feel was Tom’s warmth. You closed your eyes, and you felt like you were cheating on him because your love wasn’t his. You wanted the ashes to burn already.

Because, oh, his lips didn’t taste like Tom’s. And his name wasn’t Tom, and you couldn’t stop.

You started to resist. Because you knew that Tom was poison, and poison kills you.

You had already convinced yourself that Tom wasn’t for you.

You drifted away from Tom, but he kept pulling you back to him. And Harry noticed it, and he asked about it, and oh could you desist? The heart knows what it wants.

It wasn’t easy. It was dangerous, dangerous, dangerous. But soon, you found yourself in a Sunday Sky. And people liked you with Harry, it was good. People liked it.

But did you?

Who were you trying to fool? You had missed your chance because you had changed your dreams for a few smiles. But you couldn’t forget Tom, because he had been there when you had needed him, he had made you discover so many things about yourself. His form to show you, you could stand up again, he had made you strong. He never left you alone, and you couldn’t forget that your love for him had taught you that you could keep on going.

Yet, it seemed that all you had learned with him, didn’t apply to his case. Because you couldn’t get out of that whole you had to dig yourself in.

It was wrong, it seemed that you hadn’t learned your lesson. Because that which you had learned with Tom after Shawn had gone to trash, because you didn’t love Harry. You felt a lot of things, but none of them was love. Because you were crazy, crazy, crazy in love with Tom.

Thomas Holland. Y/N Holland. Gosh, were you five? Daydreaming about him. Thinking about him at inappropriate times.

What was your guess?

You’d walk, think, and just...You grew into it. Because it took you time, it took you a long time to fall, and you had to be patient. Patience was needed. You needed to understand yourself because you were in love with the person who had broken your heart.

It was merely platonic.

But your gaze and your smile couldn’t hide your feelings, you were thrown back each time Tom was around.

Harry was amazing, yes, incredible, absolutely, breathtaking even. But he wasn’t Tom. He would say he’d love you forever, he said he’d bring you the stars, the moon. Promises, you know?

Oh, the crap the heart makes you say when you’re in love. And you said you loved him back. Ha, as if. You promised you would never hurt him. And you weren’t planning on it. Tom was single and that made your skin burn, not even a cold shower could calm you. His thought would haunt you.

And you would say, ‘you’re the only one, my love’, and Harry was, physically. But you were not emotionally his, your kisses were empty.

Yet soon enough, you were getting used to the idea, your whole purpose was to forget and move on. Start again, and you were getting to it.

Harry wasn’t as happy when you were with Tom, because you continued seeing him. Of course, now it truly was innocent, platonic but that didn’t help you through. You were friends with Tom, Harry knew that. Yet that didn’t stop him from being kind of insecure around him.

Things had gone downhill for a while, but you knew you were starting to fall in love with Harry. It was so simple, you know?

It was simply the day you stopped seeing Tom because he had gone out to film somewhere. And after not being with him around, it finally happened.

It was the day you were helping him out with some things he needed to get around, he was writing something, you were learning your lines to the new movie you’d be in. You were both in his living room. His gaze frowned and you were repeating stuff to yourself.

It was something so conventional, a day-to-day thing. Nothing spectacular, he was letting you play with his hair. You stopped reading to watch him, his eyes were too beautiful, and he licked his lips to concentrate, his frown to get himself focused was too interesting. His fingers were caressing the paper he was reading, his foot was tapping with a beat, and his eyelashes were like ocean waves.

And he just stopped to look up and give you a smile, such a genuine way to show you he loved you.

At that moment, you fell for him.

And it was a sunny sky again. Tom wasn’t in your thoughts anymore. You wanted to give the whole world to Harry then, make up for the time you had made him wait.

And Harry knew, oh he knew well that you needed your time. But Harry, Harry had been patient.

“I love you,” you had whispered after he had smiled at you, and his face had brightened up.

“You mean it,” Harry had mumbled with surprise.

You felt fragile, you felt normal, you felt you again.

Well, that didn’t last. Sure, you were flying like Superman in the sky, again back on writing poetry, singing stupid love songs, looking out at starry nights. You closed the door. Took you long enough, y/n. But you were patient. Most importantly, Harry taught you how to be patient.

Until a night you were with Tom. You were watching him from afar, with Harry holding your hand and kissing your cheek. You were laughing, you were at a premier. You didn’t know Tom had been invited.

Of course, he had been invited, it was a Marvel movie. He needed to be invited. And all your senses had broken, you were sweating, hyperventilating even. Tom was there, in a suit and with his stupid smile that could knock you out. It was incredibly stupid. You had to convince yourself you weren't in love with him, you were in love with Harry. But when Tom hugged you and posed with you at the cameras, you were lost.

Back again in his lies, you stared too long into his eyes, and he took your heart. Pieces of emotions, fear, love, anger, everything. You were being too complicated, and you had to attack the problem.

“y/n! y/n! A picture, please! Can you give a smile to the camera?” The paps were yelling as you were still staring at Tom. You shook your head and stared back at them, smiling.

And you didn’t want to face the truth.

Harry approached you eventually, and he had said hello to Tom. And you had talked and laughed, and you were shivering. And Tom was sometimes too close, whispering to your ears.

The simple game he liked to play. And just one more smile, and he had you. He had you begging for his gaze, those damned chocolate eyes. Those stupid curls. Big angel he was. And you were begging him to break your heart again because your heart was his.

Tom owned you, heart and soul.

He had you hypnotized.

Unfortunately, not only had you noticed it. Harry had too.

That conversation hadn’t been pretty, but it hadn’t gone as bad. It had not taken him a while, just a few days, actually. But he had exploded.

“I’m sorry, y/n, I can’t keep up this lie.” An initial statement that wasn’t going to lead anywhere good. “I can’t continue.”

“Harry?” Was all you could make out aloud.

“I can’t deny I feel a lot for you, but I can’t help it and avoid what’s really going through your heart,” he had continued. “Look, come… come here,” and he had opened his arms, and you had hugged him, letting his scent fill you once more.

“I’m sorry, y/n,” he said again. “I’ve tried, and I’d love to say that I didn’t know what is wrong, but it’s clear, and I...I’ve got to admit, I’m sorry I wasn’t enough.”

“No, Harry…”

“No, no, it’s okay, we are what it was, and we were what isn’t anymore,” he looked down at you as he finally let you go.

And he was right, you were right by each other, but you were miles apart. You, you were miles apart.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I tried, Harry... I just....”

“I know you did.”

You had found yourself crying because you had lost something you had had. Something that was yours, but you were never his. And gosh, it hurt, a lot. After a few days of non-stop crying because you had now been the one with the mistake, you felt guilty, guilty, guilty.

But, life was giving you a second chance. It was your chance to go up to Tom. But it wasn’t right, you couldn’t move on that fast. Oh, and you hadn’t. Because you hadn’t moved on from Tom in the first time. No, you were never over Tom.

And it didn’t take you a long time, because the moment you knew you were both back in London, you had gone to his place. With the little courage, you had left, you had rung his doorbell.

He had opened up the door, his eyes on his phone, he had glanced up, taking in your image and sighed. He realized you had been crying, and he probably guessed it quickly. Without hesitation, he had opened up his arms.

That night, that night had happened nothing. But you had cried on his arms, with him holding you close and kissing your forehead. You made love that night, and no, not in the way everyone thinks, but the innocent way, with him holding you, with him stopping you from crying, with him making you realize you weren’t so wrong for loving him.

No body had been undressed, no lips were kissed, no passion was held. Just Tom, comforting you, without knowing he had been the one to hurt you. Just Tom, without knowing you were falling deeper. Just Tom, thinking you were crying about Harry. Just Tom, making you wait again.

Good thing, though, good thing Harry had taught you patience.  

There was just one more victim, one more victim until you were about to lose it all.

But hey, it’d be oh, so amazing.

wanna be tagged?

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[saintcanardmoved]

Do you guys remember when this was a studio Ghibli blog and I’d post gifs? 2017 was a good year lol. Anyway. As a child, I never knew I’d thirst for a 2-D otome man, but sadly I’ve stopped. Yes, after two years of obsession, it’s time I retire from the fandom. I’m keeping the blog though. Ran this shit for years, ain’t gonna give up now that my horny-meter has plummeted to an all time record low. Did you guys know blogs don’t have a character limit??

Oh god. I didn’t know this blog would suddenly receive so much attention. Please, I am begging you to not scroll down. It’s endless MysticMessenger posts from two years ago.

Hey, I'm once again: back, you can't possibly have more time than I do. I mean, after all, I made this blog. You're only browsing it. And most people don't even come here. Not even my friends...*sniffle* The just ignore this poor, pathetic little page. All they do is fill out the TAB form and leave. I think. Maybe they're here right now! HI! HOW ARE YOU DOING? I'M FINE! THANKS FOR COMING! YES, I'M YELLING! Who am I kidding. This page won't get a single hit, unless I bribe people...now that has possibilities. Okay, fill out the TAB form, so I have proof that you bothered to come here and...uh...I'll...uh...send you a sandwich? Please allow 6-8 weeks for delivery. I'm bored. I'm gonna go hug a moose. MOOSE! I love-d you moose! Hey, I'm back again! Yea...*waits for applause* okay! Now I want all you loyal fans...*cricket chirps* to go to the link to see what I'm like. I took a whole bunch of personality quizzes and posted them there. I'm an evil villain, kitty and a freakazoid so far. And I only took the quiz once, too. Spooky how accurate they are...anyway, I command you to go! I'm going. I'm back. I'm gonna start counting how many times I say back. Let's see: 1...2...3...4...5! Wow. I must really be desperate for something to do. I now officially have proof that someone has been here! It was one of my friends. Apparently this page really is getting long, because my friend said something to that effect. Maybe. Anyway, moving on! I'm just basically typing nothing. Just like all those reports people have to do. You know? With a specific number of words. They start out with half that number, and then just fill in words until they have the right amount. I salute those people. You're great tradition is being carried out here, on the second most pointless site ever! Well. Maybe eventually some weird, bored person will wander onto my site on accident and be mildly entertained be my site until they wander onto a live video feed of a coffee maker. Or maybe not. I only know that I'm entertaining me, which was my original goal. So. I've done what I've set out to accomplish. Yea, me! I'm so special. You see, most people, they don't like reading or writing. So if you're not most people, you've made it down this far without skipping, skimming or getting the spark notes version. (Which I think does not exist) My point is, if you've bothered to read this, then, (like me) you probley have also read the ketchup bottle so many times that you have it down verbatim. Look verbatim up. It's a word. But, you should know that, since you like reading. Or maybe you're just skimming. Anyway, there's nothing wrong with reading food labels. You might be asked a question about them on a quiz show. And now, for the million-dollar question: How many calories are there in a single serving of Mustard? I can just see it now...It could be called Know-Your-Food. Or You are What you Eat. It'd probley be as popular as those game shows that no one's ever heard of. Speaking of food, what's up with pie? There's strawberry pie, apple, pumpkin and so many others, but there is no grape pie! I know. I'm just as upset about this unfortunate lack of development in the pie division. Think about it. Grapes are used to make jelly, jam, juice and raisins. What makes them undesirable for pie? Would they dry into raisins? Couldn't you just stick some jelly in a piecrust and bake it? It just doesn't make any sense. Another thing that bothers me is organ grinders. You know, the foreign guys with the bellhop hats and the little music thingy and the cute little monkey with the bellhop hat who collects the money? Okay. They're basically begging on the street. How did they ever afford an organ-thingy? Wouldn't it make more sense to get a kazoo, if you're broke? And if they're so poor, what possessed them to buy a monkey? I mean, I don't think I could afford a monkey, and I'm not exactly on the streets. Obviously I at least have a computer...so, back to the organ grinders. I would have sold the monkey and the organ and been able to eat for at least a year. Or, if I was weirder than I am, I could at least kill the monkey with the organ and eat it. Why on earth did they keep the monkey? It must have cost a fortune to feed...not to mention the mess. That's just one of those many facts of life that are better left mysteries. Especially since no one but me would ask the question. I better go. I think I hear a monkey...Okay...now I'm back. That's the sixth time I've said back! I realize that this longest text ever must be very boring and not worth anyone's time. But I'd like to take this time to thank the 2 and 1/2 people in the entire universe who have bothered to read this entire thing. I'm not exactly sure who they are, but: thanks! Right now, my spacebar is malfunctioning...that's not good...I have to press it two or three times just to insert a freaking space. Maybe the evil little faeries with the sharp little teeth have put their evil faerie dust on my computer. Or maybe not. This is too frustrating. Goodbye for now...Now I'm back. And still frustrated. But for a different reason. Today I had the misfortune of playing a Treasure Planet game on neopets.com It was terrible. Apparently the point of the game was to get your character to shout "Whoo-Hoo!" as many times as possible before you splattered your brains on the rocks, all the while listening to a soundtrack that is similar to a dying ceiling fan. Of course, when I started out I accidentally hit the rocks approximately three million times. Halfway though I used my four remaining brain-cells to decide that the game was dumb. So my goal changed from surviving to laughing evilly while my character died. So the game naturally did everything it could to preserve my life. The stupid game is still going on and I refuse to quit because I want my points. My character is actually dodging the stupid rocks better now then when I controlled him. I hate irony. Seeya. Okay. Now I'm back again. Today I added an update page, which is basically a less chaotic, outlined version of this without all the ranting. It's more like techno talk about arrays and how much I suck and whether or not the Braves will win this year. Okay, the whole braves thing is made up. But everything else I've said so far is true. I think. Maybe I should start on a boring disclaimer...Eh-hem. All contents of this site were designed for entertainment purposes only. Any use thereof that is not stated in the above mentioned statement would make the author, hereby referred to as Patron Saint of Paper Clips, very angry. Should you violate the purpose of this site: i.e. become not entertained, the Patron Saint of Paper Clips will be forced to take drastic measures. This is specified in Code: 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook. Ooooo…that’s a great idea! I’m gonna start quoting from the Flaming Chicken Handbook! Code: 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook states that the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (that’s me) is allowed to cause vague, pain like sensations while the offending person (or alien life form, dog, etc.) isn’t paying attention. Now I have a purpose in life! To make up quotes from the non-existent Flaming Chicken Handbook, which I’m sure you have a copy of. No? Too bad. It’s in the mail, I promise! Now I must take my leave…and remember. Cheese is watching. Okay...I'm back...I think that eventually half of this thing will consist of the word back over and over again...that's just weird. Which fits the motif of the rest of the site. There's even a money back guarantee. Isn’t' that nice? See? Now no one can ever say that I don't take care of my viewers. Especially since I don't have viewers. I have readers. Wait...I really don't even know if anyone bothers to read this. Even if I put it in a less chaotic, more user-friendly format people would still ignore this because it involves: reading. Yes. Sad to admit, but the majority of people would rather read the summary at the back of a book rather than the whole book itself. What has the world come to? It's pathetic. Especially since I'm bothering to write all this. It's not fair! Why can't I have more readers?! All the other internet writers have nothing on me, except they're better at advertising, having a central theme/plot and basically more talented. Whereas I'm more into the whole ranting and raving stage right now. Plus, I am horrible at spelling. Which is bad. Thank the powers that be for spell-check. The single greatest invention of the computer gods. I'm getting bored, so I think I'm done for the day. May your day be shiney! I'm back again! And I feel weird! I found at that yet another one of my friends is reading this. Creepy. Just how much time do they have on their hands. Perhaps their just trying to be nice. I can just see it now...an organization devoted not to feeding the hungry, or peace, or love or whatever, but to giving recognition to all those poor, pathetic, unpopular websites. I wonder what it's name would be. Don't Ignore Sites? Would it be called DIS? Isn't that like a slang term for an insult? Would that be considered poetic justice, or just a nice coincidence? And why do I even care? I'll tell you why. Because I have nothing else to do right now. I could be playing neopets, but ever since my bad experience with Treasure Planet, I don't feel like it. Oh, by the way, I noticed that whenever I use spell-check, my stupid computer turns the word probley into to word problem. To prevent this, I did nothing. So, it is now up to you, the imaginary reader, to decide whether I mean probley or problem...it's almost like a game! But without the bad sound track. And I promise not to force you to live when you would rather die. Moving on, I have nothing else to say, but don't feel like quitting just yet. I'm like the little engine that could. Or maybe the Energizer Bunny. I just keep going, and going and going. Or I could be like that annoying guy on T.V. who keeps asking if you can hear him. If my site manages to last a decade, my readers *snicker* will probley wonder what I'm talking about. My answer is simple. It doesn't matter. I'm just rambling. Which means that it doesn't matter if you understand anything I say. Doesn't that make you feel better? I bet it does. Wow. Look how long this has gotten. I even impress myself. Who would have thought I have this much free time? And I congratulate any reader who has gotten this far. Ooooooo! You must check out the fortunes section of the random stuff page! I've just gotten an idea for some more, original, fortunes...I gotta go!(may the moose be with you) And now I am back. I swear. If iI fill out the fake tab form I'm gonna have to put back as my favorite word...I already have filled it out, though. Would it be cheating to fill it out again? Only if I had multiple personalities. Or would it be cheating if I didn't have multiple personalities? The world may never know. Just like how many licks it takes to get to the bottom of a tootsie pop. Would it vary? The number of licks, I mean. Someone could have super-disolving spit, or watery-spit. Or what if you took big ol' slobbery licks? Does the commercial take that into account? No. It doesn't. And let me tell you, it's an outrage. It deludes all of American's sweet, innocent, candy-loving children into thinking that a cartoon owl is smarter than they are! "Mr. Owl, can you tell us how many licks does it take to get to the bottom of a tootsie pop?" Or whatever. And "Mr. Owl" replies "One...Twoo...Three! Chomp" And he bites it. That teaches our youth that it's okay to agree to help someone, and then ruin their experiment. Well...it's not. I am going to start a protest group. Teens Against Cartoon Owls. We could call ourselves TACO! I love the little tacos, I love them good! That is a direct quote from GIR, co-star and comic-relief on INVADER ZIM. Hmmmm...intersting. I put hyphens in both of his titles...it must be a conspiracy! I gotta go. Those TACO buttons don't make themselves, you know. I'm back again. And not so cheesed off about the whole tootsie roll pop thing. Right now, I have another twenty minutes on the Internet before I'm gonna watch T.V. And I can't think of anything else to do. So, predictably, here I am. It's not like I have anything better to do. Obviously, you know this. After all, look how long this text is. I wonder if I've made the world record? If I did, would I stop this? Why bother asking? I'll will most likely still be adding to this on my death bed. Hmmmmm...has any old, senile person ever written anything? Was it coherent? Did it make more sense that this text? Is it possible to make less sense? Am I enjoying asking retorical questions? Yes. Yes, I am. But I seriously wonder what something written by a senile person would be like. I've heard of poems and stuff written by people who were high, insane or paranoid. But never senile. Can a senile person write? Aren't they regressed to a child-like state? Does it even matter? Is anyone even reading this? Did I resume asking retorical questions? Do you care? Is this eating up time? I feel like I'm playing questions only on whose line is it anway. I probley should have capitalized something, or underlined but I'm feeling lazy...hey, you try to keep your two and a half readers happy! It's really stressfull. Someday, I'm gonna snap and just delete this entire thing. Gee, I hope not! I worked sorta hard on this. It's great for making random topics weave together to form an overall infrastructure of chaos. That made little sense. That's why it's here, and not some critically acclaimed site. Ooooooooooooo! I'm gonna quote from the FLAMING CHICKENS HANDBOOK again! Yep! I bet you were just breathless in anticipation. Okay. Here goes. Code: 472 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that this site in no way aknowledges the existance of other, better sites (hereon reffered to as the Losers) The Losers are a myth. The Patron Saint of Paper Clips (me again!) claims no knowledge as to where that particullary nasty rumor started, but confirms that this is the best site ever. It would be a sin against humanity for a better site to exist. Should you refuse to aknowledge the Patron Saint of Paper Clips as the ruler of the Internet, you will be subjected to punishment as stated in Code 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook (i.e. Experience vague, pain-like sensations when you're not paying attention) This has been a public service announcement. This is a test, I repeat only a test. Had this been an actual emergency, we would have bought up all the can openers and charged 3 cows and a pig for each one. I repeat, lock all you doors and windows, this is it. I repeat, there is nothing to worry about. Everything is fine. The end is not here. I'm going, you're on you're own! Ahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm back!*smiles brightly* And apparantly delusional! Anyway, I just finished rereading my longest text ever. And I became inspired to talk about nothing. You see, I periodically read the longest text ever to check the constant downward spiral of my sanity. Hmmm...I seem to be entertaining myself though, even while reading what I wrote. Which is why I still go to the Really Really Big Button That Doesn't Do Anything website. Because I am easily amused and have lots and lots of time on my hands. Maybe, some day far in the future (like next Thursday) I'll print a copy of this insane text. And then go door to door distributing it. Eventually, this would become a monthly tradition. Whole families would gather around their front door, in breathless anticipation while they attempted to barracade me out. I can just see the whole community rising to thwart my attempts to spread love, joy and insane chaos. I probley wouldn't actually print this out (think how much paper it would take!) but if I do, only friends and enemies will receive copies. Hmmmm...maybe my condition is worsening. Or not. I'm still peeved about the cartoon owl from the Tootsie Roll Pop commercials. He is pure evil. TACO will eventually destroy him. Unless he has already been destroyed by an even more radical Anti-Cartoon-Owl group. I hope not. Or, would that be good? I suppose I could let someone else have the glory. After all, I'm not in this line of buisness for the fame, fortune and power. What line of buisness, do you ask? Why, the assasinating annoying cartoon characters buisness. (Actually I just question them untill they spontaneously combust, I ask lots of questions) So, in conclusion, ladies and gentleman of the jury(that's you) I could not have possibly tortured "Mr. Owl" to death. I love owls. Hmm...I seem to be jumping from one subject to another more frequently. Either I am growing more comfortable with my on-line writing, or I am progressivly getting more insane and chaotic. I also am psyco-analyzing myself a lot today...hmmmm...I'm even saying "hmmmmm..." a lot. Just like a real psychologist. Hmmmmmmm. Time for another boring disclaimer!!!!!!! Code: 742 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that in no part does the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (That's still me!) actually claim to be mentally ill. That's either a) a publicity stunt b) An attempt at humor c) a cry for help or d) none of the above You can e-mail your responses by conducting a scavenger hunt of this site. Some of the pages of this site contain a link encouging the two and a half people to e-mail the Patron Saint of Paper Clips. There may also be evil little links that are designed to confuse you. These links send stuff to someone named johnjones66@hotmail.com Saint of Paper Clips does not know who this individual is, but sincerly wishes that you send all your hate mail to him. Not that the aformentioned individual claims to have received hate mail (or mail of any kind) via a website link. Thank-you for your time. Remember to send your answers to my sanity quiz to the e-mail account, bigppmegashlong@gmail.com Oh, and once I refer to myself in the first person again, the handbook quote is over. I just thought that I might like to mention that. Oh. You're still here. I figured you rush right on over to e-mail me. Perhaps you don't have time to waste e-mailing me. HA! HA! HA! That's funny!!!! If you you don't have time to waste, what are you doing here?!!! Oh, who am I kidding. I figure that even the people I manage to lure onto my site from neopets don't even bother to come to this particular page. Maybe I should make the link come here directly...Hey! What a good idea! That way I can spread my love, joy and insane chaos to more people! I'm a genius. Gotta go, must lure innocent victems to the second most pointless site ever!!!! I'm back. And really angry, and confused. I've always known that I was weird, that's always been a given. But now I realize that I am considerably more normal than the rest of my family. Today we had a "family outing." Now, most families will go bowling, or putt-putt golfing. They may go to a resteraunt with an arcarde, or the movies or to a theme park. Not my family! No, we got the greatest family outing of all. We got to go to a bar and play pool!!!!!*waits for readers to become insanely jealous* Yep, that's right, a bar with a pool table! Not only did we get world class cuisine (under-cooked hotdogs and over-cooked hamburgers), my little sister (age 10) got taught pool by someone I strongly supect is an ex-convict! Naturally when it was announced that we'd be eating dinner in this place, I could hardly contain my excitment(I glared at my mother and asked why we couldn't go to Pizza Hut) When we arrived, we were promptly served (after thirty minutes) In the meantime, we played a family game of pool(my parents played while my brother and sister and I watched) After two rousing rounds, our food came. The food was superb, (our food came the exact opposite of how we ordered it, and half of the onion rings were missing) Then we joyfully returned to our game(my sister and the ex-con played my mom) We spent hours there (from 5p.m.-7:15p.m.) There were many people that were the same age as me and my siblings (no one in the room but us were under 30) Us kids had to be dragged kicking and screaming from the bar ( I almost fell asleep during the last game I watched) As we left, there was a feeling of goodwill and fellowship between all(my sister locked me out of the car and wouldn't let me in untill I started yelling profanity in her general direction) The high point of the entire night was when my mother gave me $21 for my report card. She promptly borrowed $1 to help with the waitresses tip(This part I'm not being sarcastic about) All in all it was a night I'll remember forever (as the lowest point in "family outing"history, except for that time my mom dragged me to a church thing on the concept of truth.) My brother(age 13) even decided upon a new job he wants when he's old enough to work, a busboy at the bar. We had to tell him that he would probley have to wait untill he was 21.(Absolutly nothing about that statement was sarcastic) As you can see, I love my families outings(Not unless you're blind...or stupid) &#!#%&&!!!(*%$ WHAT THE %$#@ WAS MY MOTHER $#$#%$# THINKING!!!!!!!???? BRINGING $#$$# KIDS IN A BAR!? I know it was her idea, 'cause my dad hates it, too. My mom and my stupid little 10-year old sister loves it, though. *sighs* Why does my life have to be so weird? I'm leaving...now I'm back! And not so pissed at my weird family. Now is the time to mourn the loss of one of my most loyal readers (I think she's read the entire thing one time, which is more than anyone else has done so far) She has been banned from accesing any portion of the Internet, do to reasons that must remain confidental due to security reasons. If I told you, I'd have to kill you and all that stuff. So...now I am down to one and a half readers. Untill such time that I have more. I wonder why anyone would read this? You would have to have several characteristics that I possess. First of all, you'd have to have an extrodinary amount of free time. Second of all, you would have to have the patience to read through all of this. And lastly, you'd have to know where the heck this site is. I admit it. I haven't exactly advertised this site. Nor can I find it on any search engines. Some of my pages have stuff written in to make search engines recognize me, but it doesn't seem to be working. What must I do to rise above obscurity? I tell people I know about this site, but they either ignore this page, or don't even bother coming to the site in the first place. I suppose that is the bane of all authors. To pour your heart and soul into a passage, and have everyone ignore it. *sniffle* Why must this be? Maybe I should just give up. After all, no one would really care if I quit updating this site. But I can't help but think of stuff like the evil over lord list and REALLY REALLY BIG BUTTON THAT DOESN'T DO ANYTHING. They are not great neccesarily because of the content, (although that helps some) they are great because of their sheer length. You can read a little each day. And almost never finish. Also, I guess I still am trying to get the world record. I have heard some feedback suggesting that I make someway for people to remember where they stopped reading. It can be very confusing, especially if you weren't paying attention in the first place. Well, I dont want to organize this page, in any manner. This is chaos. And insanity. Not neat little text in classifiable rows, in alphabetical order. If you want neat, go to some other site(though, as mentioned in Flaming Chickens Code:472 there is no such thing as a site better than this one). Otherwise, I guess you're stuck with me. Awwwww...I'm touched! You didn't run screaming to another site, thankfull for the chance to escape this insanity. You're still here, which must mean that you'd rather be here than anywhere else! Hey, where are you going?! I thought you were gonna stay here and keep me company?! *drags reader back* See, I knew you'd stay! *gagged reader glares* What's that? I know this is the best site ever, thanks for the compliment! *reader starts inching towards freedom* I better go...I think that I may have a problem brewing. I'm back. And very concerned about this new, younger generation (all 10 year olds who were born in 1992) They are supposed to be the future. Instead they appear to be a nuclear armagedon in the form of a fifth grader. I chanced to have an interview with an informant from this evil generation (my little sister) who will be called Mrs. X for security reasons (no, she's not married, the "Mrs" makes it good as a disguise) I was quizing Mrs. X on Civil War History for an upcoming test in her classroom (whose location can not be devulged) Mrs. X seemed fluent in the subject. Using prior knowledge, I deduced that Mrs. X was full of crap. Out of sheer curiosity, I asked Mrs. X who participated in the Civil War. She immediatly replied "Clara Barton". I clarified, which countries fought in the Civil War. She answered: England, Russia, and (out of sheer desperation) Iraq. I believe that she was just listing countries she knows America has fought against. Now, correct me if I'm wrong...but Iraq? I don't know if Iraq even existed in the Civil War Era! Why on earth would we go have way across the world to fight them when we didn't even really need oil?!! Moving on, I finaly managed to coax my sister (I'm tired of writing Mrs. X) to tentativly guess that America fought in the Civil War. I mean, who'd a thought? America? Fighting in the American Civil War? In a moment of inspiration, I asked her who America fought. Her first guess was enslaved africans. Well, at least she knows that slaves were involved in the war. Before she could start listing all of America's enemies, I gave her a hint. I said "The Union fought..." With a crack, snaple and pop, some random synapses in her brain connected in the right order and she said "CONFEDERACY!!!" I was very proud of her, just as you would be proud of a two-year-old who has just announced: "I WENT POO-POO ON THE POTTY!!!!!" What I mean is, you wouldn't be very proud if the average person said that they just took a dookey on the toilet, and you wouldn't be very proud if they knew who fought against the Union in the Civil War. I confirmed that the Union was Northern and Free, and that the Confederacy was Southern and Slave. We resumed quizzing and she got every question on the worksheet correct. This is because she memorizes the questions. That way, she can pass the test without actually learning anything. You see, if you memorize stuff, you only have to remember that the answer to number 6 is Clara Barton for a week, rather than having to remember that Clara Barton started the Red Cross for the rest of you life. I sincerely appologize if anyone is offended by my view of memorization. I also would like such persons to immediatly leave my site. You don't belong here. You see...knowledge is good. If my sister...uh...Mrs. X were ever asked a question on the Civil War on a quiz show, she'd come up with nothing. With knowledge you can win money and the opportunity to look like a dork on national television. My sister is a big believer in the memorization system. I previous time when I was studying with her (American Revolution, this time) I was trying to help her remember the difference between the Patriots(Patriotic to America) and the Loyalists (Loyal to Britain) She didn't know what the word patriotic meant. I tried to explain. I asked her how you dress on the forth of july (she said nice) I asked what the colors red, white and blue were (pretty). I gave up in exasperation. More recently, I was trying to instill a sense of empathy and niceness in her. I asked her what the golden rule of christianity was. She didn't know. When I pressed her, she confessed she didn't know what chrisianity was. Completly defeated, I told her that it was the religion she practiced every Sunday when she went with her friends to church. This confirmed my suspicion that she only went so that she could have the use of the church's playground equipment. My family also strongly suspects that she stole $20 from the donation thingy. Anyway, that's my rant on the new generation that contains my little sister. When someone of her generation runs for president, I'm gonna do a complete background check. If they're anything like my sister, I'm movin' to Canada. Gotta go...the Russian-Brittish-Iraqi-enslaved-Africans are coming to defeat the Mexicans. I'm back! *there's that darn cricket again* And I have a genuine question to ask all of my loyal readers *cough-cough* Okay, here it is: Is it normal for a non-gender specific sibling to carry around various dead reptiles (snakes, turtles, lizards etc.) Furthormore, is it considered accepted behavior to talk to these dead reptiles, in a cooey, baby talky kind of voice? Finnaly, is it expected for said sibling's non-gender specific parent to encourage such behavior, citing "I was just like that as a child" as an excuse? It's an honest question as I fear that my non-gender specific sibling is weird. Who am I kidding? My entire family is weird. It's just a matter of degree. Hey, by the way. I'm sorry that my last few entries have been only about my various family antics. Although I can't see why you care, because there is a large probability that you do not exist, because I don't think anyone is reading this anymore. How discouraging. People need to make the time to waste time. It's a time honored tradition. Who'd thought that I could use time that many times in only a few sentences? It's been pretty quiet here lately, which is why I haven't added anything to this text in awhile. I know, you were just crushed that nothing new was happening. It's a sad, cold, cruel world out there and you had nothing to relieve the monotony of it. *sniffle* I feel so sorry for you! Next thing you know, you're internet connection will die. Well, too bad! Do you know I never even had a computer untill just a few months ago (that's why I'm obsessivly writing here) So I won't pity you if you're computer dies for unexpected reasons. Time for another quote from the FLAMING CHICKEN HANDBOOK!!! Code: 843 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook states that in no way is the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (guess who?) responsible for any faulty wiring or lack thereof in your computer. The Patron Saint of Paper Clips in no way wishes harm on your computer. Any derogatory statement is simply an opinion of an individual, not of the flaming order of the flaming chickens. Said order will in no way be held responsible for any damages, injuries, loss of life, limb, head, or organs. Okay, quote is done. Maybe I should put quotation marks around them...nah, too much work. But I probably will eventually get around to having a seperate page just for the FLAMING CHICKEN HANDBOOK. That way all the members (what members) can print out a copy of it for themselves (if they didn't get that copy in the mail) I guess I'm done for the day...I know. You want me to stay. It's okay. Because eventually, I'll be back! Seeya! I'm back. And once again suprised. When I was at a TAB poetry thingy (TAB is good TAB is great We love TAB) I met some new people. One of these people (who shall remain nameless untill such time that I have explicit permission to use her name) turned out to be almost as weird as me. As in...she read the ENTIRE Longest Text Ever. The whole thing. So far two whole people (to my knowledge) have read the entire thing, and a few people have skimmed it. That means I really can justify claiming to have two and a half readers! I'm so happy! That means my pointless obsession has actually entertained someone besides me! Perhaps, one day, far in the future, this will actually be a world record and random people will acutally voluntarily read this text every day. Or maybe not. The point is that it is nice to have readers. Or maybe it's not...I mean...won't the quality *snicker* of my work deteriorate if I am no longer writing for the target audience of me? If that happens, then no one will read this. And then I'll be writing for me again. And then the quality will rise. And then people will start reading. And then the quality will go down and the vicious spiral of good and bad will continue untill I either give up this text, or go crazy...er. In any case...I should probably find a topic. Yeah...a topic would be good. Or...I could just continue to write about finding a topic. Ooooo! I know a topic! Ice cream trucks! This has been bothering me for a while. You see...when it's hot, you want something cold to eat. Conviently, ice cream trucks come around during the hottest part of the year (it must be a conspiracy). As you may or may not know, small children swarm the ice cream trucks. The vendors even play whimsical music which I strongly suspect contains subliminal messages to make you hungry for ice cream. The vendors get oodles of cash, and the kids get ice cream. Now, in today's society of buying groceries on-line and getting them delivered, why hasn't any other food industry marketed this ingenius idea to bring the product to the consumer. I can just see Hot Dog, and Pizza trucks roaming the neighbor hoods, selling treats to hungry children...and adults. Of course, said adults would have to peel their butt-cheeks off the couch...but they'd have to do that for the delivary man anyway. The food trucks could even play music that made you hungry for their food. Then the problem with obesity in America would be blamed on evil food truck drivers as opposed to the harmless, benificient television and computer. We could all breath a sigh of relief as parents kept their children inside, away from the evil truck drivers and near the T.V. Gone would be the days when parents told children to play outside, it's a nice day. Parents would buy their children computers, video games and other television neccesities. This, of course would expand the market for such products. This would lead to a better, more stable economy. Food industires would be buying cars, gas and music. Parents would increase the purchase of entertainment items. In return companies would make a profit, pay their workers better. The workers would then be able to afford more entertainment items and the upward spiral would continue, as opposed to the evil downward spiral of my writing. In conclusion, Ladies and Gentlemen...if you implement my idea, there will be peace and prosperity for all. As long as you don't mind a few more couch potatoes. Gotta go...I think I hear a catchy jingle. I'm back...it's been awhile since I've written here. A lot has happened. Like my EVIL school computer deleting my updates page. But it's all good. Especially since I just saw The Matrix: Reloaded. The following text may spoil the movie for you, so WARNING: do no read this unless you have already seen the movie. Okay. What I liked best was the philosophy on choices. (the mindless fight scenes were really cool, too). It's like this. In the beginning of the movie, Neo is having dreams about Trinity's death. Later, The Oracle tells him that he has already decided her fate. Towards the end of the movie, Neo chooses to tell Trinity to stay out of the Matrix, since he saw her die in it. She agrees, but only after seeing how important it is to him. After a horrific chain of events (is it coincidence, or fate) the people who will deactivate the secondary power source of the building Neo is infiltrating, die. So...the plan is going to fail. Unless someone does something, Neo, Morpheus and many others will die. Trinity, who is of course outside of the Matrix, knows this and chooses to enter the Matrix to save the day. The events of Neo's dream unfold. So...when the oracle said that the choice had already been made, she was completely correct. The moment Neo woke from dreams of Trinity's death, he made a choice. He would do everything in his power to keep his dream from becoming reality. So he kept her out of the Matrix, and she saw the problem, and entered the Matrix to fix it. If she had been in the Matrix, she would have likely been with Morpheus, never would have known about the plan's failure, would therefore not have been in the situation that resulted in her death. And the plan would have failed and Neo might have died, along with a large portion of the city (the building was set to blow if there was any intruders) So...Neo's choice to attempt to save Trinity triggered the sequence of events that led to her death. As Neo realizes all of this, through a nearly omniscient Architect of the Matrix, he makes another choice. This choice is simply an extension of his original choice: he will save Trinity at all costs. Neo is told that he has two choices. He can save mankind, and doom Trinity. Or he can try to save Trinity and doom mankind. No guarantee that he'll succeed in saving Trinity. He goes for Trinity, makes it just in time to catch her body, and starts her heart back up. In return for not taking the easy route, he gains a power in the more or less real world. He can deactivate the machines, (squidies) but at great personal cost. The movie ends with him in a coma. Now, you must realize that I have described only one aspect of this movie of all movies. There are not enough words in the English language to describe the sheer coolness of the fight choreography, special effects and the plot. I highly recommend you see the movie yourself. I'm sorry that today's rant isn't random, insane or completely chaotic, but I must right my experience with The Matrix before I forget. I am so buying this movie when it comes out on DVD. I love it! You have to admit its sheer coolness. I mean, come on! It's the sequel to the movie that revolutionized the standard by which we judge special effects. I better stop typing before I have a heart attack...just remember...The Matrix has you...I'm back. And throughly pissed off at my school system in general. You see...they feel that the only way to reward academic achievement...yada-yada-yada...is to force the smart kids to be ushers for Senior Honor Nite, and Graduation. Where is the logic in this? I for one, didn't know about such dire consequences for not deliberatly failing classes. It was bad enough that I was forced to "volunteer" my precious time (i could have worked on this site)...no...I was forced to wear formal attire. My school system is stuck in the past...and formal attire means...a dress...a white dress...(for those you who never bothered to find out...I am indeed female). So...for the first time in about 5 years...I wore a dress...and something that was complelty white. What cruel fate is this? To compound the EVIL situation...I was forced to wear feminine shoes. In other words...they hurt. And they pushed my toes together. Since I have a rather weird phobia of touching my own skin...this made my evening my own personall torture session. I think that such gender-specific torture should be deemed inhumane and abolished from our great society...of flaming chickens. Henceforth...Code: 666 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that under no circumstance will the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (guess who) be forced to wear anything other than a t-shirt and preferably black jeans. Should you violate this right, you will become destroyed or possibly dizzy. I'm leaving now...I have some destruction to do. i'm back. from graduation. we had to get there one hour and fifteen minutes early because there was traffic. After standing around a lot...the ceremony started. Lots of people spoke. by the time I had to do my part (tell people where to stand before getting their diploma) it was dark. there were bugs. they liked landing on me. then...i got to go stand while people said a lot of stuff. i couldn't hear it because someone had put the speakers facing the audience. we clapped. the whole time, even during the name-calling, seniors were playing with silly string and beachballs. afterwards...they turned off the lights. there were lots of fireworks. i wandered around for 20 minutes looking for a cell phone. i called home, and waited another hour for my ride...traffic to the school was one way. i felt sorry for my dad. i am tired...but cannot go to sleep. i'll copy and paste this to my site. maybe the longest text ever. you will all suffer as i have suffered when and if you graduate. i cannot feel my feet. i hate dress shoes. I'm back. Today, I'm here to salute the Pointless Signs Of America! The PSOA have been whole-heartedly working for you, and what have you done for them? NOTHING! These so-called "pointless" signs are doing just what they were meant to do: entertain you! You cannot judge them simply because they have no apparant function. They expand your mind, making you think about all the things they could do. They could do anything they wanted to, if they just put their minds to it. If you judged everything by what it doesn't acomplish, then the entire world is populated by pointless beings. Noone can do everything, so how can you expect a SIGN, with the I.Q. of toilet paper, to do everything. You people sicken me. You expect far to much of the inanimate world. The inanimate world, on the otherhand, expects nothing of you. Which is exactly what it gets. If you expect nothing, and get nothing, you feel nothing. If you expect nothing and get something, you're happy. But, if you expect something and get something you feel nothing. And if you expect something and get nothing, you feel cheated. If you're following along, and not completly confused, you'll realize that it is better to be a pessimist than an optomist. Yep that's right. This entry went from saluting the PSOA to making a statement about my ideals. This has been a weird day. You can thank my associate "Meg" she came up with the PSOA acronym. Everyone, clap for "Meg".I gotta go...seeya later! I'm finnaly back! Today, I took a long look at this site, which is the acomplishment of almost a year of work. And I asked myself "How could I have better spent my time?" And so, in the interest of wasting even more time, I made a list. Here we go! Number One: I could have cured cancer. Not that I know anything about medicine...or cancer for that matter. But I'm sure that if I just would have put my mind to it, I could have done it. Number Two: I could helped the earth to find eternal and lasting peace. Which would be boring. So I at least have an excuse for not doing that. Number Three: I could have studied and stuff. Uh...don't think so...Number Four: I could have learned to drive. This would have resulted in the deaths of numerous pedistrians...and I would still probably be wondering around in search of a McDonalds. Number Five: I could have read more books, played more video games and watched more mindless television. Gee...I wish I'd thought of that sooner. Number Six: I could have implemented one of several plans for world domination. Or, as an alternative, I could have ruined several plans for world domination that other people made. Number Seven: I could drive people crazy. Wait...aren't I already doing that? Scratch number seven. And on to: Number Eight: I could have...uhhhh...ummmmm...actually thought up these things before hand. Number Nine: Now it's just getting redundant, isn't it? Number Ten: This is the list that never ends. Yes, it goes on and on my friend. One person, started typing it not knowing what it was, and they'll continue typing it forever just because this is the list that never ends, yes it goes on and on my friends, some person started typing it not...etc, etc. Okay...I admit it. I have officialy run out of ways I could have better spent my time. I don't think there actually are any. Except for maybe five and six. Now, those have possibilities. However, I am currently content to just sit here and type. For the benefit of you, the reader...who may or may not exist. Either way, I'm continuing to sort of entertain myself. I feel like I should be outraged about some topic or another. I just can't work up the energy to be outraged. Perhaps a nice, soothing mistrust. Yeah. I can work with mistrust. I definitly mistrust lots of stuff. Like organ grinders, and the evil conspiracies. Did you know, that Kodak was part of the conspiracy to assasinate John F. Kennedy. Now, some of you are probably thinking "Gee, Really?", or "Wow, I never knew that!" while others are thinking "Who's John F. Kennedy?" or possibly "Who or What is Kodak". I fervently hope that you're not thinking the last two...especially about Kodak. Kodak, as you may know, is a film developing company. And John F. Kennedy (JFK) was an alien bent on global domination. Or possibly a really good president who wanted to fly to the moon. Either way, he got assasinated. And ever loony in America decided that it was a conspiracy. Some even go so far as to claim that Kodak "changed" the pictures of the assasination to make an assasination in the bushes become a tree's shadow. I didn't know that they had such good technology back then. I have to wonder...why would Kodak do such a thing. Perhaps Kodak is actually a front organization for a shadowy governmental system that controls the entire world and didn't want mankind to obtain the freedom of the stars and so tried to sabotauge the space program even though it didn't work as well as they planned. Or perhaps not. Either way, Kodak is undeniably evil. How can any company that takes so many "wholesome" pictures not be? You can just bet that they look at every one that get's turned in to them, judging blackmail value, and whether or not you could get arrested. It's just sickening, you can't even take a simple photo nowadays. Unless you have a digital camera, which are a symbol of freedom from the old ways and willing enslavement to the new ways. We can only hope that the digital camera manufacturers are kinder masters than the evil Kodak Lords. I better go...I think Kodak is tracing my site....I'm back now! And, once again, I have proof that someone actually took the time (two hours) to read this entire Longest Text Ever! It's amazing, it's incredible, it's unbelievable. But true. Even more incredible, this time it's someone I don't even know! Wooooooo! I feel inspired and happy and other really good emotions and stuff. And so, I'll take a trip down memory lane, to the dark depths of the past, to when I decided to make this page. It was inspired, in part, by my sheer and utter boredom. In school, back before I even owned a computer, I'd type random words for long periods of time, 'cause I had nothing better to do. Once I got this computer, I decided to do something similar on my beloved site. But, it ended up making more sense than I anticipated (scary thought, huh). Oh, well...I tired of nostalgia. Back to the present. Right now, I'm just typing so that no one can say that I've been slacking off. I don't think I have any conspiracy theories...except pop-ups/pop-unders. Have you ever had the evil pop-up that says that if you click here, it'll get rid off all the annoying pop-ups? Isn't that sort of ironic? Could the pop-up blocker people have chosen a better means to advertise their product? It's like grand-theft auto 3's talk show, you know, the one where there are Citizens Raging Against Phones? Or CRAP, for short. And the lady representing them, calls the radio station...on a phone. It's stupid and ironic and just shouldn't exist in a better world. Pop-Up ad's help you get rid of pop-up ads? Insane, chaotic...hmmmmm...I wonder who thought of it? Was it on purpose, or was it just some mistake? It is now my civic duty to discover this ancient mystery, and reveal it to the uncaring world. Or maybe I'll go make a frozen pizza. Yeah. That sounds good, too. Since I'm not particualarly inspired at the moment, I should leave and let you gather what is left of your sanity. I just can't seem to stop, though. Okay...I can do it. I'm leaving. I'm back...and it's several hours later. I've decided to imortalize the stupidity of my dog, Moose. She is a heavy-set Yorkshire Terrior (12 lbs.) In otherwords, she's a small yappy dog who is big for her breed. Today, I met her arch-enemy. An enemy so terrifying that Moose cannot stop shaking. An enemy so hideous that Moose must destroy it at all costs. An enemy so dangerous that Moose fears it above all others. Now you may be wondering what horrible beast is Moose's arch-enemy. And you probably suspect that it is something pathetic. You would be correct in your suspiciousness...for Mooses arch-enemy is...*dramatic drumroll*...a small, white, feather. Now, Moose has seen many feathers, birds even. But none have struck terror in her little moose heart like this particular feather. So...naturally I put her arch-enemy in my pocket and brought it home with me. This action has made her very suspicious of where my loyalties lie. She tracks the feather smell all over the house, and goes crazy whenever I take it out of my pocket. She even got her sister and mother in the spirt of things. Now her sister sounds an alarm whenever she sees the evil feather. Now, you may be wondering what is so terrifying about a small, white, feather. So am I. It doesn't smell funny, (I asked my brother, since I don't have a sense of smell), it seems perfectly ordinary. So, I've decided that Moose works for some secret government organization, and that the feather is the key to the destruction of the world, and I am just blithely letting it enter our home, so that it may furthur its evil plans to destroy the universe. That is the only possible explanation as to why it upsets her so much. Or...maybe it's the feather off of the cartoon owl from the tootsie-roll pop comercials (one...two...three..*crunch*). Whatever the case, I decided that the whole world, (or three of four random people) deserve to know that if the world and or universe are destroyed, it's the evil, little, white, feather's fault. Now I'd better go and torture my Moose with it...:) I am officially back. And you, the potentially non-existant reader gets a once in a lifetime chance to hear me rant and rave about my Horrible, Horrible Family Vacation. I know. You feel very, very honored. It's like this. My mother is a control freak, and she decided on the spur of the moment that we were going north to visit relatives. Later that day, she decided we were NOT going north, we were going south to a beach resort. Still later that day, she got offended at some trivial thing and decided that we weren't going anywhere at all. The very next day, she decided that we were going north, after all. So, we packed everthing up. Before we knew it, we were on the road. The first part of the trip was fairly easy. As in, I was half-asleep, hoping that we'd arrive while I slept. Then, in an inspired move, my brother talked my mother into letting him sit up front. That meant that my mother would be in the back, with me and my younger, eviler sister. Immediatly, my mother started complaining. It was uncomfortable in the back, it was too hot, it was too cold. Then, she accidently woke our three yappy dogs up, and they relized that they were in a car. That meant only one corse of action for them. They started shaking and barked their little heads off. This annoyed my mother further, untill she asked, no, demanded that my father turn the car around so that we could go home. Unfortuantly, we had already driven 337 miles toward our destination. After much argument, my father was going to turn around, untill he realized that my mother was going to drop the dogs and me off, and then turn around and continue north. This seemed slightly unpracticle, so we ended up not taking that 337 mile detour. We eventually reached our destination after 16 hours of virtually non-stop driving. We got there, we ate. We slept. My mother visited relatives. And so the week went by. I got to go to a huge library, and see Terminator 3 at the local theater. That was the high point of the entire trip. The last day, we were deciding where to eat. My mom said that she didn't care. So my dad picked a steak place. My mother tried to order a mushroom-swiss burger...only to discover that the place had no swiss-cheese. So she decided on a salad, only to discover that they didn't have her favorite salad dressing. After much deliberation, she decided that she wouldn't eat. After complaining how hungry she was, and about the poor quality of the resteraunt, she walked out of the resteraunt, instructing the rest of us to "enjoy our meals". And I wonder where my little sister gets her annoyingness. Not that my mother is annoying...just set in her ways. The whole meal thing was about the only interesting thing to happen during the week. On the way home, we had gotten approximatly 4 hours into the trip when my mother predicatably decided that we had to go back and eat at the 50th aniversary of her favorite ice cream place. Needless to say, we ignored her. Oh, and when my sister had to go to the bathroom very badly during a traffic jam, my mother had the good taste to making hissing/water noises to make my sister's problem worse. She claimed that my little sister always did it to her, and she was getting pay-back. Between her bickering with my sister, and obsessivly playing neopets games, I don't know what to do with her. Anyway...that was my family vacation rant. It sucked. No suprise. At least it's over. Sorry if I complained a lot. If you don't like it, start your own longest text ever. Anyway, I promise to go back to my usual routine the next time I rant here. I thought of a topic on the way home, but forgot it. Seeya. I'm back! I know, I took you completly by suprise. You thought you'd gotten rid of me. *cheesy super-hero voice* Well, fear not, random citizen, for I, PSOPC am here! *normal voice* Today I have a very important to discuss with you in this: PERFECTLY NORMAL PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCMENT. Yes, that's right. It's time to warn you, the viewer...er...reader...about the evils of various stuff. Today's lesson is: subliminal messages . That's right, folks, mass hypnosis via commercials. Now, I'm sure you've at least heard of subliminal messages , right? No? Well...prepare to be enlightened. Subliminal messages are an advertising technique that puts hidden pictures and words into a main image. You don't see them, but your subconsious (dreaming) mind does. Your subconsious mind acts on whatever it is told. What does this mean to you? It means that WAL-MART TV IS EVIL! EVIIIIIIIIIIIIL!!!!!! Why else would they invest all that money to show commercials in their own store? Because they put subliminal messages in them, of course! Subliminal messanging also explains the successes of certain fast-food resteraunts, and brand name items. BEWARE YOUR TOASTER OVEN! Okay. That had nothing to do whatsoever with subliminal messages...it's just cool to say. Anyway, only watch wal-mart if you WANT to be subliminaly entertained into purchasing a new set of TUPERWARE, even though your old set is PERFECTLY fine. This has been a public service announcment. Pretty cool, huh? Uh...you don't have to take the subliminal stuff seriously. It's true, and all, but I have no proof about wal-mart, or certain fast food resteraunts. It makes sense, though. Wal-mart TV is evil. You cannot deny it. Seeya...hmmm..I wonder if there's subliminal stuff in my computer...I'm back. And I feel that it's time for a FAKE commercial break, for the highly informed, obviously brain-dead consumer. And now, a word from our non-existant sponsor. Ketchup: The only food that you'll want to eat after traveling to the 5th Dimension. It's been practically proven that Ketchup transforms into a highly intoxicating (non-addictive) delicious substance upon returning from the 5th Dimension. Stock up now with our Valu-Pak to recieve 3-metric tons of Ketchup, all for the low, low price of your brain, since you're obviously not using it anyway. Then, just wait for technology to "catch-up" (get it, catch-up, Ketchup?)so you can travel to the 5th Dimension like our scientists almost did. (Next Commercial) Get ready fo: Faux's new "reality" TV show, "How Low Can We Go?" It's about six contestants who compete to create the worst, least likely "reality" TV show. The winner not only gets the million-dollar prize, they get the chance to produce the show they created. Remember: if the show sucks, it's their fault, not ours!(Next exciting commercial!)And for all the idiots out there: Try new and improved Dum-B-Gon! Dum-B-Gon stimulates brain activity, making you up to 10 times smarter! Not only that, Dum-B-Gon: stimulates weight loss, cures "any" illness, does simple houshold chores, never leaves the toilet seat up and is the perfect gentle companion for your kids. How can you pass up this revolutionary new product? It's yours for only 3 bi-monthly payments of $3.95 ($3,95,000 on days ending in "y")Don't forget, Dum-B-Gon is practically guaranteed!* (*Not a guarantee) (Next commercial)Have you ever wondered why food sometimes goes bad in your fridge, even if you've only had it a few years? It's because of the "evil little faeries with sharp little teeth." These "faeries" sprinkle your food with highly toxic "age dust" and ruin a perfectly good four-year-old meatloaf. How do you stop them? With our patented "spray". Our "spray" kills over 99.9% of "faeries" (which are much to small to see) Our "spray" also kills most disease causing agents, like rats, or pigeons. WARNING: Leave food sit in an open, well-venilated spot for a week before eating. And now, back to our featured presentation. Wasn't that semi-entertaining? I bet you wanna go eat some Ketchup covered Dum-B Gon right now, while watching "reality" TV. Just make sure you "spray" your food first. Pathetic, wasn't it? Oh, well. I was bored, and a dilligent reader suggested I make fake commercials, so...therer they are. Happy? Good. I'm leavin', for now. I'm back. And I'm willing to enlighten you, the potentially you-know-what reader. Today, I was checking out some weird news. At one point, I read an article that stated that it had been proven, conclusivly, that Kansas was flatter than the standard pancake. The researches even used highly advanced technololgy to map the surface of a pancake and compare it to documented geology of Kansas. Some people disagree, the director of the Kansas Geological Survey said "I think this is part of a vast breakfast food conspiracy to denigrate Kansas. It's a cheap shot." So...doesn't that make you want to take Kansas' side (I sincerly appologize if you are from Kansas). It just seems extremly weird (and worthy of mentioning) that this semi-important guy from Kansas believes in a "vast breakfast food conspiracy". Makes you think that the long held belief that Kodak conspired with the JFK assasin(s) is normal. Another article claims that an anitseptic turned a polar bear purple, drawing large crowds of people. I sure hope other zoos won't copy them. Before you know it, we'll have orange alligators, pink tigers and blue lions. School children won't be able to correctly identify the color of a zebra. Random people will think they've gone crazy, after a seemingly innocent visit to the zoo. It's wrong, I tell you. A complete and total degregation of our societies values. What values, you say? The basic moral belief that Polar bears should be WHITE. Unless we spray-painted the snow purple, too. Then it would be okay. As long as the bear blends in, you know? Speaking of animals, there's a cat in California who is a kleptomaniac (likes to steal stuff). He sneaks into neighboring homes, and takes clothing, wrapped christmas presents, and anything he can find. He then leaves them under his owners car. Okay, better leave. I'm back. And I don't really have a topic today. I'm just bored. Sometimes I just do this, you know? Start typing without any idea about what it is I intend to say. Maybe I subconsiously DO know what I'm doing here, but refuse to admit it to myself. Or maybe I am monumentally bored and don't have anything else to do at the moment. Either way, I'm here. You must be pretty bored, too. Otherwise, why on earth (beta, krpto, zkdjf, Planet X, whatever) would you be here? It would make no sense. If you have something better to do, why wouldn't you be doing it right now? I would be. But, maybe that's just the difference between you and me. Yeah. That must be it. Unless you're bored. Then I completly understand. I need to find a topic. Here, topic, topic, topic! Come on, I won't hurt you, I promise! *hides large ax behind back* Come here, topic! Why are you afraid of little ol' me? *sigh* There are no topics anywhere near me. Kinda like me and "Meg" webcomic we are trying to do. It's called Hit-Or-Miss, any topics, plot, etc. are completly accidental and are not the fault/responsibility of the creators. That was sort of a topic, even though it was sort of random. Which is what I do best. Okay, I'm done with that litte commercial. What now...hmmmmm...should I share with you more of my paranoid/delusional conspiracy theories? Or have I been doing that too much lately? Oooooo! I know, I'll start of list of why it's fun/good to be insane/weird! #1You can say or do anything and normal people will agree with you in the hopes that you'll be satisfied, shut up, and go away. Far away. I will show you an example with this completly true stuff that I experienced several years ago. ME: My vicious, psychotic, flesh-eating bunny-rabbit wants to rule the world. RANDOM PERSON: Uh-huh, that's nice. ME: Yeah, but I told her that she'd be a terible ruler. I mean, she traded Asia for a carrot! And she doesn't even LIKE carrots! RANDOM PERSON: You don't say? ME: Yep. She also is the goddess of red jello. RANDOM PERSON: *head explouding from sheer insanity* As you can see, I was a very weird child (this happened in elementary school...uh...except for that head-explouding part). Okay...on to: #2 You can get out of practically anything by saying: a)It's against my religion b)I'm allergic to that. c)I have an extremly irrational fear of that. d)I already did that in a past life and it sucked. e)My psychotic bunny predicted I'd die doing it. Unfortunalty, several of those reasons LEGITAMITLY apply to a certain activity I do every Tuesday, which WILL NOT BE NAMED HERE LEST I GIVE IT POWER OVER ME! I'm allergic to parts of it, have irrational fears about others and I'm pretty sure it's against my Jenny religion...along with eating mashed potatoes, or potatoes of any kind. I'll add that to the FLAMING CHICKENS HANDBOOK. Thou shalt not eat spuds. Hmmmm...time for #3You can obsessive over ANYTHING, and people will think nothing of it. I, personally, am obsessed with, kitties, bunnies, bats, this website, drawing, making intriate little patterns with strings, doing mildly repetitive activities, being weird, apparantly making lists and cheese...and chickens...and flame. Fire is good. Fire is free. Fire is my friend...until it burns me. Then it must die...painfully. And on to:#4You make your friends look normal in comparison. And #5: You can give each of your pets several weird names such as: Ringling-Raison-Bailey-Suzana-Midnight-Schultz, Squirell, Moose, Moose-Moose, Moosey-Moose, Linzey-Moose, Muffin, Squirell-Muffin, Yabby-Doodle, Abby Normal, Wiggle-Baby, Wiggle-Muffin, Witle-Baby, Cheese-Monkey, Muffin-With-Squirell-Juice, Squirell-With-Muffin Juice, Moosey-Juice, Squirell-Monkey, etc. Now, wasn't that a fun list!? Doesn't that just make you proud to be weird? I should make bumber stickers saying that. Proud to be weird. It'd be cool. Anyway, gotta go! *yawn* I'm back. Last night I was super-charged with lots of sugar and not a lot of sleep. I ended up writing things during the time of night when EVERYTHING is hilarious, including the word sheep. To compound things, I wasn't alone, and things just escalated. The following is everything I wrote during that sugar-coated time period. Some are answers to e-mails, the rest are just stuff I wrote.

Definitly. THen we go to library. Guess what? Me and Josh ate lots and lots of sugar, and it's late at nite and everything is funny but we can't laugh 'cause everybody is sleepin' so it's even funnier but ever since we drank the water we sobered up even though we weren't drunk but we ate sugar...lots and lots of sugar. MOstly donut cake. Okay. JOsh says it was only one piece of cake. WE got it at Wal-mart. Or his mom did. OR something. Goodbye..

[tsukipara-translations]

Tsukiuta Story Drama - Chapter 1

I’m alive! A very late update but without further ado here’s chapter 1!

Chapter 1 - We will become a game!

Episode 1 - What's the "important announcement" Tsukishiro-san?

In a certain studio, the members of the idol group "Six Gravity", or for short "Gravi", are currently recording for a music program. 

They belong to Tsukino Talent Production and spend lively everyday life at lessons and in school with the handsome, outstanding leader, Mutsuki Hajime, in the centre, all the while cohabitating in the dorm owned by the company. It seems that they’d safely finished recording and have returned to the dressing room.

Kakeru & Koi: Thank you for your hard work! Haru: Yes, thank you Arata: Phew. With that recording today's work finished Aoi: It's been awhile since all the Six Gravity members were gathered for a job so I was happy Koi: I agree! Koi: ...huh? Where's Tsukishiro-san? Haru: Pretty sure Tsukishiro-san was with the producer to discuss about our next recording. Koi: Then is it ok for us to go ahead? Hajime: Yup. A car has already been arranged. Let's head back to the dorms first. Once you've put away your luggage, go meet up with Shun in the common room. Tsukishiro-san said he has an important announcement. Aoi: Important announcement...? What could it be? Hajime: Even I don't know.... Tsukishiro-san was smiling so i doubt it'll be bad news Kakeru: But Tsukishiro-san is always smiling! Haru: Just like a manager. Then, shall we head back? Koi: Ok~!

Kakeru: Hmm, an "Important announcement"… Koi: This is kind of exciting isn’t it Tsukishiro: Sorry for the wait everyone Haru: Tsukishiro-san. Tsukishiro: It seems everyone is here Kakeru: Tsukishiro-saan! What's the "Important Announcement" Koi: Somehow when you say "important", I'm really curious! At this rate I won't be able to sleep at night…. Or maybe not. Anyways, I'm so curious! Aoi: C-Calm down, Koi Arata: Yes Ye~s. I'm curious too. Just what is this announcement? Tsukishiro: Yes. Um. Firstly I'll say one thing. It's not bad news so please relax. Actually… Kakeru: gulp!

Episode 2 - Hurray! I finally have my game debut too!

Tsukishiro: This time, it has been confirmed that all of the Gravi members will appear in an app game. Hajime: ......An app game? Kakeru: Eeeeeeh!? Koi: I-I-Is this for real? Aoi:Uwah...! Haru: I see..! Arata:Since it's an app, it'll be those games you play on a smartphone right? Tsukishiro:Yes. That is correct Koi:Huraaay!! I finally have my game debut too! Kakeru: Tonight we'll have sekihan*! Tsukishiro: Fufufu. I thought you'll definitely be glad but this is beyond my expectations. I'm happy as well. Koi: Ah! So, what's the genre? RPG? Or is it adventure? Or is it something unexpected like FPS? Arata:......What's FPS Haru: It's short for "First Player Shooting Game", an action kind of game where you play from the perspective of the main character. Hajime:Hm... Haru: Oh, even Hajime didn't know? Hajime: It's because I rarely ever play games Kakeru: Then, it's a chance to challenge yourself to play this game! Hajime:Aah, you're right Koi: Hajime-san, Hajime-san! If it's about games, leave it to me, Kisaragi Koi-kun! I've played all the genres of games out there! I can teach you all about them! Haru: Koi is all fired up Koi: That is exactly why I'm curious as to what the game's genre will be… Aoi: Mhmm. We are idols so an action game would be a bit different...> Kakeru: That is true Koi: Hey, you never know. It could be a setting where idols sing, dance fight! Kakeru: Aah! That's great! I want to try fighting using weapons or magic! Haru: So we become high-spec idols in all sorts of ways Hajime: Exactly what are you guys aiming for? Arata: Weapons aside, we do have someone on the floor above that can use magic Aoi: Th-that is true...! Tsukishiro: Fufu. Unfortunately, Koi-kun's explectaitons are off. The genre of the game that eveyrone will be appearing in this time is a "Rhythm Game"

*sekihan - A sweet rice dish with red bean mixed inside. Eating during a celebration like in this case, being in a game

Episode 3 - The game's genre is a "Rhythm Game" Koi: Ah! A "Music Game". I never thought of that! Aoi: N-No, no no! Normally it's the first one everyone would think of…. Hajime: "Music Game"? ……Haru. What's that? Haru: Like the name suggests, it's a game where you play along with the music. Haru: I believe the classic one is where you can tap the buttons to match the rhythm and create your own pseudo music performance. Hajime: I see. You play with the music. It certainly is fitting for idols like us Tsukishiro. Yes. It is exactly that. The game this time will have everyone in "Six Gravity" and "Procellarum" and utilise each of the group's songs such that all the fans can enjoy the game, is what the president had said. Kakeru: Yay, Procella is also appearing with us! Aoi: I'm looking forward to it Tsukishiro: With that in mind, I apologise since it's so sudden but right after this, you have an interview regarding the making of the game Tsukishiro: SO I would like everyone to talk about their enthusiasm in appearing in the game. Arata: Okaaay. I''l do my best Hajime: …. Can I ask something? First of all, what kind of app games are there? Kakeru: We have to start from there? Hajime: I was interested in app games but… I couldn't find the time Haru: Well, you can't afford to fiddle on your smartphone at the work site Aoi: In that case, if it can be done in their free time, then this game would be perfect Aoi: Since it is a rhythm game, it shouldn't take a long time to to play it Hajime: I see. By the way, what kind of games do you guys usually play? Koi: For me… it's this!

Episode 4 Although it is still in the development stage Arata: Woah, how nostalgic. Wasn't this sold e a long time ago? Haru: You're right. I might have seen it before. Koi: Exactly! An app version of it was released recently. They've added some new battle elements to it as well. I recommend this! Haru: Really? I thought smartphones were simple things but they can process a full-scale game. Koi: That's~ right~. Even Kakeru occasionally plays games Kakeru: Yup. I like playing puzzle games or games for killing time. Haru: Ah, I also play a bit of puzzle games. The ones where you join cute, squishy mascots together with your finger and they disappear Aoi: They are popular with girls. Even in my class there are a lot of people who play them. Haru: But since my hands are big, I'm not good at making precise actions, so my score can't really go higher Haru: Lately, I've also been playing quiz games. Here look. This is also fun to play when you have free time Aoi: Ah, I also play this game a little. It's nice to cooperate with your friends and play Arata: Aah~, so the girls that were fighting and saying "I won't give up my spot in Aoi-kun's friend list" was because of this game Aoi: Arata! It wasn't to the extent of fighting…. Probably Koi: A fierce battle for the friend request….! Arata: As expected of Prince Aoi. As the one who's always on the top of this Prince's friend list, amazing right? Kakeru: With who and what are you competing against? Aoi: Uh. Ummm, aside from games, since I like cooking I often use recipe apps Aoi: I sometimes read recipes from all sorts of cuisines, I can find out about the ways to arrange beautiful dishes, just reading about it is fun Hajime: That sounds interesting. …Hm? So you can find all sorts of recipes on here. This is nice Haru: Hajime, I think you should download this app. Look, the cakes on here looks delicious. Kakeru: I think so too! They also have some tasty looking donburi (rice bowls), here look Koi: You two, I'm sure Hajime-san wants to make his favourite dish himself…. Is what I'd like to say but I also like to make a request Hajime: Alright I got it. When I have time ok? Hajime: Arata also has times when he's on his phone. If it's not games then what do you do? Arata: Me? I tweet things, take some pictures and afterwards surf on video sites Aoi: Videos? Ah, like those videos of cute animals? Arata: Why just only animals? Well, I do watch them? Like capybaras, otters,, dogs and cats. Kakeru: You really do like capybaras, don't you? Arata: I keep talking about capybaras all the time that I start to think that sooner or later one will appear as a pet Koi: Stop with the pointless remarks. Anyways, there are a lot of different apps out there! Koi: I can't wait to see what our music game will become. Haru:  Of course, we have to make sure that some of our fans who, like Haijme and Arata,  don't usually play games can also enjoy it Tsukishiro: About that, the president was also worried so I think it will be dealt with properly Tsukishiro: Although this game is still in the development stage…. It is almost complete. Please have a look

Episode 5  For short "TsukiPara"! Koi: Ooooh, so cool! They can move already! Uwah! They really do move! We're moving! Kakeru: We're in the game screen…..somehow it feels moving! Hajime:  It's our songs….. I see, it's this kind of game Haru: Yes, the mechanics seem pretty simple so maybe even I can play this? Haru: The problem is then whether I can tap at the right timing or not. Aoi: Ahaha. That's the interesting part of rhythm games and also the difficult part too Tsukishiro: Fufufu. I'm glad that everyone is enjoying the game Hajime: What's the title of this game? Tsukishiro: It seems like it will be named "Tsukino Paradise" Tsukishiro: Since the other units in Tsukipro will also appear in the app, that's how the name came to be apparently Kakeru: Straightforward as always! Koi: While we're at it, I feel like we'll soon run out of "Tsuki something" names Haru: Hey, hey. Putting the stuff happening behind-the-scenes aside, "Tsukino Paradise" is a good name isn't it. Kakeru: For short "Tsukipara"! Aoi: I hope the app can be loved by the Tsukipro fans as well Hajime: It would be great if it can become the paradise for both the fans and us. Tsukishiro: The president has also talked about that. It would be nice if it can be enjoyed by a lot of people Tsukishiro: To achieve that, it seems like we are considering in holding a special event for everyone to collaborate on Haru: A special …. Event? Tsukishiro: Yes. The details have yet to be decided upon but I'll notify everyone as soon as it has been set. Please look forward to it. Aoi: I wonder exactly what kind of event it will be Arata: Since that President said it is a special event, it seems fun…. And a bit scary as well Koi: But still definitely! Kakeru: Looking forward to it! Hajime: Well, I guess so. Instead of being worried, if we look forward to it, we can overcome anything Hajime: Isn't that right? Haru: Yup, that's right. Alright~, everyone, let's do our best! All: Yes! Koi: At any rate, this game is fun~. I feel like I'll get addicted to it Kakeru: Koi~? If you get too into it and pull an all-nighter again, you might get a horrible test result like the one the other day~ Koi: What!? Kakeru-san! Shh! Shh! Hajime: Hmm? An interesting conversation you're having there, koi? Koi: Uh, ummm ~ It's not a particularly fun topic~ It's not something Hajime-san should be concerned about~ Hajime: You two, it seems like you're studying games more than studying for school? Koi: Ah! This hand move! Haven't felt it in awhile! It's a little, nostalgic! Koi: Or not! Wait! Please wait a sec-… aaaaaah!!!!!! Kakeru: There goes Hajime's steadiness! Haru: Yup. Good grief.

And that's the end of Chapter 1! Thank you for reading and if you see any mistranslations or formatting errors (For some reason tumblr died when formatting episode 2) please message me. I'll start to work on the character profiles so I believe that will be the next post

[remainloved]

Rivalry - Ethan Dolan (Part 3)

Summary: In movies, books and stories, captains fell in. The captain of the soccer team and the head of the cheering team will always make the perfect couple. However, what if these two captains despise each other?

Warning: none?

Word Count: 1.6k+

Y/L/N = Your Last Name

Part 1 Part 2

Have you ever thought that there might be a possibility of you being a psychic?Because you had this feelings that something bad might happen. Like when you’re in a class and the teacher was about to ask someone to answer a question, you would have this unsettling feeling and got chosen. No? Maybe, it was just me.

I walked down the school hall with the unsettling feelings with me. It was even weirder when I stepped on to the hallway. Everyone turned looking at me. I walked in and everyone literally parted like the Red Sea. Some of them was smiling and holding up their phones.

Okay, strange morning. I was a foot away from my locker when a guy wearing a mask in all black attire handed me a note. He didn’t say a word and leave. I looked at the note it was written.

Games on.

Meet me there.

E. x

The thing that came in to my mind was Ethan. Was it pun intended? I looked around the hallways and everyone was still looking at me expectedly. Is Ethan going to humiliate me by not giving a good clue where to meet him?

Unfortunately, I’m Y/n and I’m smart enough to figure it out. It was the field, I mean that’s where the game happened, isn’t it not? Smiling to myself and giving a pat to my shoulder, mentally. I headed to the field reminding myself it’s on.

–

I reached the field and everyone was following behind me. There was another guy in a mask wearing literally the same outfit as the one before. He handed me another note.

Our spot.

Great. Just another nice clue. We have never had a spot together. What do you mean our spot?

We live our high school life literally on this field. We share the same position as captains. Meaning we are always the center of attention. Center.

I walked towards the center smiling and sat down the nearest bench. The other students followed and sat around the bench. I waited and soon my cheer team walked in wearing our school uniforms.

My best friend Michelle led the group. They were giving the whole school a routine. Everyone cheered and clapped. Okay, I felt a bit betrayed yet they did pretty good. Nevertheless, I was proud of them.

They finished the routine by putting their index finger on their lips, signaling the crowd to quiet down. Once the silence settled in, Michelle shouted. “EVERYONE MUST BE WONDERING WHY Y/N HAS BEEN GETTING NOTES THIS MORNING. WELL, PUT YOUR HANDS TOGETHER FOR OUR VERY OWN WILDCATS.”

Everyone clapped and cheered for whatever Michelle just said. Ethan’s teammates came running, even his twin brother Grayson. Yet, Ethan was nowhere in sight.

The boys were getting into formation. They were wearing our school jackets and started opening it them one by one.

It started from my left to the right. The team shouted all the letters together while one opening their jacket. Everyone cheered as they opened the jacket showing a simple white t-shirt with a letter printed on.

B E M I N E

P L E A S E

As soon as it was done. I felt a tap on my shoulder and I turned around. Ethan Dolan was standing there holding a freaking pompom, and said “Please?”

My lips curved inwardly trying so hard not to blush nor smile yet I decided I won’t be easy on him either. He literally made my head burned solving his clues. I raised my one of my eyebrows, “Please what Dolan?”

Ethan nodded his head and bit his inside cheek before he smirked down at me. He cleared his throat and shouted on top of his, “Y/N Y/L/N, WILL YOU MAKE ME THE HAPPIEST MAN ALIVE AND BE MINE?”

I was grinning ear to ear hearing him shouted those lines in front of the whole population of the school. He looked down and his face turned slightly red. He looked kinda anxious with how unresponsive I am. He added “Please.” Softly at the end.

“Of course, if you insist very much.” I stood up and I hugged Ethan. His muscles was tense as he seems surprised. After he relaxed and nuzzled his face in the crook my neck. Everyone was cheering and hollering behind.

He put his hand behind my back and pulled me closer. “Princess, never knew you’re so hard to get.” He chuckled against my neck and I felt his chest rumbling. I hugged him tighter and whispered back, “For your record, you’re quite smooth.” I chuckled back.

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!” Coach’s voice barked through the megaphone. We pulled away and coach shouted, “Dolan? Y/L/N?” He was confused. As we were not bickering and Ethan’s arm was wrapped around my waist.

“Yes, Coach.” Ethan answered.

Coach looked around and shook his head, a smile graced upon his face “I see, finally got past all this weird rivalry?”

Ethan looked down lovingly and I smiled back sweetly, “Yeah, couldn’t let the princess without her prince.” Ethan said as he squeezed my waist and I giggled.

Gosh, this is so cringe worthy.

Coach nodded his head and soon shouted, “Clean this place and everyone out of the field!” With his words everyone scurried inside the building. It was only the two of us.

“See you in Chemistry class, princess.” He leaned in, his warm lips touched against my cheek. He smiled and left. I was left astounded.

–

As I went back to my locker to grab my Chemistry books, people congratulated me along the way. Some girls told me to take good care of him. Some hugged me and said “Finally.”

When I looked over and I saw Michelle, she was already running towards me. She didn’t say congratulations nor did she hug me. She, however slapped my head saying, “Why didn’t you tell me any sooner?”

I looked at her confused, she laughed and said, “Don’t worry, Ethan explained it to the cheer team and his team.”

“What did he say?” I asked, knowing I have to be careful touching this topic.

“Don’t worry, No one judged the both of you. We kinda guessed it by then.” She batted her eyelashes. I looked at her baffled. I don’t get it at all.

“You guys dated behind us and finally decided to go on public, silly.” She slapped my arm this time. “Let’s head to Chem class.” She wiggled her eyebrows and dragged me to the class.

–

To be honest, I enjoy Chemistry class. The only thing I despise was that Ethan’s a part of this class and he’s doing well as well.

We started the class by Mr. Miguel’s normal pop quiz routine. It was during this time that Ethan and I would compete against each other. Who would submit earlier with a higher mark?

“Princess, let’s help each other.” Ethan whispered behind me.

“What? You can’t answer these questions yourself, Dolan?” I turned and teased him.

“Y/L/N! DOLAN! Quit flirting with each other.” Mr. Miguel shouted. I turned around immediately and went back answering the quiz. Ethan stood up, I put my arm out and held him back. I gave my paper to him, asking him to hand it over to Mr. Miguel as well.

He took the paper and rolled his eyes, “Anything, for the princess.” He walked towards the front desk and submitted our work. We waited for everyone else to be done.

After the pop quiz ended, he continued giving lectures about Hydrocarbons and stuffs like that. Ethan and I would constantly being the ones answering his questions. We were both determined to be the one who answered the most.

After, Mr. Miguel ended the discussion the bell rang. Before everyone was out Ethan stood up on the chair shouted, “A PARTY AT MY HOUSE, 7 TODAY!” Upon hearing this news everyone cheered.

Ethan sat down and turned his head towards me and said “Princess, you should come to my party today as my date. I’ll pick you up at 7.” I looked over at Michelle and she was squealing. I knew that I had no choice but to go.

–

No, Michelle did not come over to help me pick a dress. So yeah, I’m freaking out. I mean I should at least try to impress him, right? I should win this game.

I went to my wardrobe and pulled out dozens of clothing. I put on a simple plain red t-shirt and matching it with a black skater skirt. It looked pretty good.

I decided to just put my hair on a sleek ponytail and going with a simple natural look but finishing it off with my red lipstick. The red lipstick was just my icon. I couldn’t go out without it.

My phone vibrated, showing Ethan’s text.

I’m here

E.

Okay, I grabbed my phone and went downstairs. I opened the door revealing Ethan with his orange hoodie. How can someone be so perfect in just a simple hoodie?

I did a little twirl and asked, “How do I look?” feeling a bit uneasy. He stared at me eyes and smiled, a genuine one. “You look beautiful, princess.” He said sincerely.

For the first time, I liked hearing him calling me princess. “You don’t look that bad too, Dolan.” I replied back. He chuckled and guiding me towards his car.

He opened the passenger seat, motioning me to sit down. “Well, I guess chivalry is not yet dead.” I muttered quietly, clearly it wasn’t. He looked up and smirked, “As long as there’s Ethan Dolan, it will never be dead.” I laughed and went inside.

Throughout the whole ride, I was feeling quite anxious. Even if I was the head of the cheer team, I never really liked going to parties. It wasn’t my cup of tea. Ethan was quite nice. I think he knew I was feeling uneasy. He tried making jokes as to ease me. I, on the other was feeling more relaxed with Ethan’s horrible jokes.

“What did the buffalo say to his son, when he left for college?” Ethan asked between his fit of laughter.

“What did it say?” I smiled looking over him.

“Bison.”

Bye-son

I laughed, “That was a good.” I laughed harder as Ethan was struggling to breathe. “I know right.” He pretended to flip his hair. I laughed and he just looked over and laughed even louder.

It wasn’t long till we reached his house. To say that his house was packed was an understatement. “Don’t be nervous. Anything happened tell me. If you need a ride home just ask, okay?” Ethan touched my hand and squeezed them.

ps: okay, i’m so sorry… i think this one is quite messy…i’ll edit it sooner…i apologize for all the errors…i think the next chapter would be better (hopefully)… 

+

you guys are very sweet, thank you :) 

[rosellenjane]

1/10 - Vung Tau to Mui Ne

So I didn’t do a post yesterday, that’s pretty much due to me spending the day doing nothing other than book my bus for today, drink a little with the people at the hostel and do a couple of hours of my TEFL course. It rained mid morning and that was enough excuse to do nothing. I had a nice catch up with my Mez Bez and ate two pots of instant noodles so you’re all upto date for yesterday’s activities.

This morning I had set my alarm for 05:45 to get up and do my last bit of packing for my bus that was arriving at 06:30 for a 4.5hr drive to Mui Ne. Just before my alarm went off I had a knock at my door from the night security guy telling me the bus would be here at 6. Bloody hell, I had 15mins to open my eyes the other 50%, pack my shower stuff I definitely wasn’t about to use and general shite lying around like chargers, pjs and insect repellent.

This time my small rucksack had 1 plimsoll with my deodorant stuffed in it and my make up bag, I’m losing at the big rucksack jenga arrangement.

I ran down at 05:57 to pay my bill and go for one last wee as I wasn’t sure if the bus would be stopping. The little mini bus arrived at 06:20 😐 so I had a nice chat with the security guard and he helped me with my stuff onto the mini bus I’d been told was taking me to Mui Ne. To my surprise we stopped off 10mins later which I thought was to let people off until I saw someone carry my big rucksack onto a coach. The girl I was next to nudged me to get off so I followed my rucksack and pointed at the coach door to the driver and he gave me the thumbs up so I just got on, I couldn’t really do much else and everyone was smiling so I went along with it. I got told off as soon as I boarded for not putting my flip flops in the carrier bag that was thrust upon me, and later on when we had a toilet break told off for wearing them rather than a pair of sliders from a big box of athletes foot that was supplied. It was a sleeper coach so all of the seats were like very reclined aeroplane seats with cubby holes for your feet. I wasn’t sure I’d fit through the very narrow aisle but I followed the guy down and catapulted myself into this little nest and he popped my rucksack alongside my legs and we set off.

I was about 30cm away from an Indian guy on my left who must have been commuting and I’m not sure if his headphones weren’t connected to his iPad or what but I had the pleasure of listening to some of his favourite hits for a long while whilst he napped, also every time we turned left his phone slid off of his little table into the aisle and I had to put it back on his iPad scared that he’d wake up and think I was trying to steal it, I ended up hoping we’d take a sharp right and it would be someone else’s problem.

I fell asleep and when I woke up I checked google maps and saw we were close to Mui Ne and the Indian guy was gone so they were obviously dropping people off. I made eye contact with the bus assistant and showed him my hotel address and he gave me a thumbs up. Unfortunately there are 3 or maybe 4 hotels under the same group in Mui Ne and once he told me to get off I found that I was at a different hotel to the one I’d booked. Again I checked google maps and found I was 20mins walk away and it was midday, it was 29 degrees and I had that toddler equivalent on my back, I checked grab and only motorbike taxis were available so I decided to walk it, for 30 seconds until I saw a taxi driving towards me waving. The hotel is called Mui Ne Hills and that’s for a reason. I’d read reviews about the hill but I thought that 300metres is nothing really, and it isn’t, until you have the weight of a 2 yr old on your back, probably a 1 yr old on your front and a 2 litre bottle of water in your hand. I was sweaty as hell when I got to reception and I was an hour and a half early to check in.

I dropped my bags in the check in area and went for a smoke and a guy who started working at the hostel today asked if he could speak to me and practice his English, no problem, he was nice and invited me to visit his family’s farm where they grow dragonfruit. We chatted for an hour or so and he learned some new English words and I showed him English money that he hadn’t seen before.

Once I checked in I charged my phone etc, sapped up the air con and then headed down to the pool. I was sat alone for a bit until the Vietnamese guy came over again, we chatted for a while and a downpour started. A couple of friends from Holland joined us and we all got to know eachother which was cool, They had met on a travel buddy website a month previous so we did the now usual conversation of ‘how long’, ‘where have you been’ ‘where’s next on your list’ conversation. This took us up until 5ish which is when the hostel activities started. First was a pool pillow fight which was the most entertaining thing I’ve seen in a long time, the guys were especially good as they clung on to the pole for so long!

The winner shared his beer tower with us so I made a few more Dutch friends which was nice. This is the Vietnamese guy and the Dutch guy competing, the Dutch guy won in the end -

Next up was flip cup where you go down the line, drink your beer and then have to flip your cup upright from the edge of the table and it goes down the line in a race.

After this me and the girl from Holland got a pizza from the restaurant and got chatting to a couple who have been honeymooning for 4 months already, they were great and so friendly. I needed to shower so said I’d catch them at beer pong. There was a quiz about to start but I was greasy as hell and needed a freshen up. I did actually only miss about 10mins of the quiz and when I got back down I joined the honeymooners, a new couple from America and a guy from Australia and we came 3rd in the quiz. One of my redeeming answers was to a riddle - what travels the world but stays in one corner???

After the quiz it was time for beer pong, There were teams of 2 and I was with the Australian guy. We were shit, absolutely shit, our game lasted around 45mins and they had to bend the rules for us and our opponents just so the game finished. I had got the winning shot but anyone who plays the redemption rule, well, what a crap rule, so we were out of the tournament. I think I’m so used to playing on whoever’s garden table that’s available that I was not equipped for a full length beer pong table. Especially embarrassing after bigging myself up as a good player.

The beer pong started at 9:30pm and I’m writing this at 3am. We played ring of fire (ring of death as the Dutch call it) so things got a little messy whilst the tournament was still going on. The honeymooners ended up winning which was nice but when they started offering out shots of rum from the bottle they’d won I decided to call it a night, I was supposed to be going on a sand dune tour at 04:30 to watch the sunrise...

I’m looking forward to seeing everyone at the pool tomorrow and seeing how everyone’s feeling, I’ll probably take it easy tomorrow and book that jeep safari for the following morning to get something productive done.

Lots of love,

Rosie

[kpop-shenanigans]

Destiny Isn't Your Friend - Soulmate AU! Johnny

Here’s another thing for Sam’s birthday. I just finished writing this, I’m tired as hell but I hope you enjoy as much as she did when reading this!! -Lyn

Prompt: Soulmate AU in which instead of having tattoo of the 1st thing they were going to say it would be this half heart which blinked faster and faster when you were getting closer and closer to the soulmate?and when you first talked to them, your and the person’s half heart would turn into a whole one WC: 2.1K

Soulmate. A person ideally suited to another. In another words, the one you’re destined to. You didn’t want believe in the concept of a soulmate existing. But, for your dismay, it’s something that does exist. Everyone is born with a white half heart. Its placement is on the wrists, with some exceptions, them being somewhere around the arm. Yours was on the wrist though, so no special snowflake for you. It’s hidden most of the time but starts blinking whenever your soulmate is around. That’s what your parents told you. They also told it becomes a full heart whenever you meet your soulmate. Your parents are soulmates, seen by their full white hearts on their wrists. They’ve told you their parents are also soulmates and their parents too. It’s a tradition running in your family. Everyone getting married to their soulmates for life. You were the only one in the family who didn’t actually want to meet their soulmate and stay with them forever. You wanted to get with someone that wasn’t your soulmate, to break your family’s tradition.  Unfortunately, people try to find their soulmates, which makes it harder for you.  Around your college, some have found their soulmate, others haven’t and a few don’t care about that. Inside your group of friends, a couple have found their soulmates, others haven’t. Your best friend hasn’t but she didn’t care much about it. But she’s focused on getting you your soulmate. You’ve told her plenty of times you didn’t want to be with your soulmate but she kept insisting. “Aw, come on (y/n), it’ll be nice.” she said, eating some fries. “You know I don’t want a soulmate, Chae.” you retorted, glaring at her. “Oh well, it would be nice to see you and your soulmate together. You’d be a perfect pair!” she replied, faking a sad face. You shook your head and continued eating lunch.

“Hey!” said a voice. You and Chaewon looked your side and there was another friend of yours. Before you could greet her, she immediately asked if you wanted to go to a party. “But you know I don’t like to go to parties” you replied. Your friend pouted and asked why. “She’ll end up alone because we’re gonna get wasted” Chaewon answered. “Noo, we won’t get wasted. We’ll be with you” your friend replied. “That’s what you said last time and I had to drag you home, Kimi” you retorted. Kimi gave a nervous laugh and Chae said she’ll stay with you. You sigh, knowing at a point she would leave you alone. But you decide to go with them anyways. Kimi gasps and thanks you. She mentions the party is this weekend, before scurrying off. “Are you sure you’re going to stay with me?” you ask Chaewon again. “As sure as my love for drawing” she says, nodding. You both finish eating and head for your classes. ——————– Weekend arrived and you were seriously regretting accepting the invite to that party. You were watching Stranger Things until the door bell rang. You got up and answered the door. Chae and Kimi were at your door, all dressed up to go to the party. “And you’re still in pjs” Kimi pointed out. “Weren’t feeling up to it?” Chaewon said. You nod and she replies with ‘Same, but Kimi dragged me’, earning a slap to the head from her. You invited them inside, closing the door after they’re inside. You went to your room and changed into something fitting for a party but also comfortable. You were probably going to be there for a while so you didn’t want to wear something uncomfortable. You got out of your room and, as soon as you got to the living room, Kimi groaned. “When are you gonna wear something for a party? You’re never gonna get the attention of someone like that”. “I prefer comfort over sex appeal.” you retorted. “Okay, if you two are done bickering, let’s go” Chaewon said, already at the doorstep waiting for them. You and Kimi headed out the door, locking it. “I call shotgun!” Kimi yelled, heading for the front seat. You got into the driver’s seat while Chaewon stayed in the back. You knew you were the designated driver since you didn’t really like drinking. You started the engine and drove off, following Kimi’s directions. Once you got to the house, Kimi ran off inside. Both you and Chaewon sighed, knowing she’d run away as soon as she got there. You headed inside and you saw a large crowd dancing to the ear-piercing music. Loud music wasn’t the problem, but you didn’t want to stay amongst the pit of bodies, so you pulled Chaewon to a people-free space. Fortunatly, you didn’t have to go through the pile of dancing bodies to get here. There was a corridor between where you were at and the other side. You walked through it and ended up at the house’s backyard. There weren’t many people around, just a few couples kissing like their life depended on it and a few passed out people. There was an empty bench, that looked like it was intact from all the possible drunk people who could’ve thrown up on it. You both sit down and you sigh. Why did you accept to go to this party anyway? You hear Chaewon inhaling, signalling she was about to say something. “Apparently my wrist has its heart blinking” she said, looking at her right wrist. It was barely blinking, but it was blinking in any case. “So your soulmate is in this party then?” you replied, glancing at the house. She nodded and her face lit up, like she suddenly remembered something. “Oh, what about yours! Is yours blinking?” she said excitedly. You pulled your left sleeve down, hoping it wasn’t blinking, but to your dismay, it was blinking like hers. You heard her quietly yelling, probably excited that you were able to meet your soulmate. You groaned, disappointed that you could meet your soulmate right now. “Do you want to go look for your soulmate?” Chaewon asked, tilting her head. You shaked your head. “No, there’s too many people inside. We were lucky to get here without going through the mosh pit”. A frown appeared on her face and her body slumped forward. “Okay then” she said, looking at the ground in defeat. “But I’m still getting a drink or two tonight, okay? I’ll be back” Chaewon said, getting up and walking towards the house. You nodded and looked at her going inside. You looked at your phone, looking at the time. It had been a while since she left, where was she? As soon as you asked yourself where she was, she stepped outside, holding hands with some guy you’ve never seen before. They looked pretty cute in your opinion. “So, you’ve met a friend and decided to leave me here?” you said. She shaked her head, looking worried. “No, no, noo! I didn’t leave you hanging, it’s just..” Chaewon replied, showing her and the guy’s wrist to you. The heart was a complete one, signaling the guy was her soulmate. You must say, he’s very handsome, almost like he’s straight out of a manga. “We met inside and talked a bit until she remembered you were out here alone.” he said, smiling at Chaewon. “I’m sorry, I completely forgot about you, I’m so sorry” she apologized, worry spread out on her face. You said it’s alright. “Well, I’m Taeyong, it’s nice to meet you.” he said, shooshing Chaewon. “(Y/N), it’s nice to meet you too Taeyong” you replied. They sat down next to you and you got a chance to know more about the guy. Apparently, him and a few other friends of his had transfered to the college you were at. While you three were talking, you noticed both Chaewon and Taeyong looked at eachother lovingly, like they were meant to be. Of course they are meant to be, they were soulmates after all. You thought to yourself. If you ever met your soulmate, what would you two act like? ——————– Monday arrived and you were sat down on your desk during your first lecture when you notice your half-heart blinking. You nudged Chaewon, showing her your wrist. She looked at your wrist then at your face a few times, looking like you had done something amazing. “This didn’t happen before in this class” you whispered. “Apparently, there’s someone new in this class” she replied, looking around to see if she could spot them. She nudged you and told you to look near the door. It was someone new as Chaewon said, someone you both haven’t seen before. He looked kind of foreign for the rest of the class. “Maybe it’s one of Taeyong’s friends” you said, focusing your attention back on the lecture. You’d rather pass this class than wonder who this guy is. But there was a thought at the back of your mind that said ‘Will I get a chance to meet him?’. Your morning classes passed by, always with the thought of the guy you saw on your first class. On the second class and third class, both Chaewon and your soulmate weren’t present so you try to pay attention to the lecture. But without Chaewon to talk to or the guy to look to, you’d almost drift into sleep. For your luck, you didn’t fall asleep. You finally got a break for lunch and Chaewon met with you to have lunch together, since your lunch break was aligned with hers. You sat down at the cafeteria and you saw someone walking towards you. With the corner of your eye, you saw Chaewon waving at them. You realized it was Taeyong but, why was he here? He sat down next to Chaewon and you couldn’t help but to ask 'Lunch break?’. He replied with a nod. “Hey Taeyong, do you know who the guy from my second class and your first class is?” Chaewon asked. Taeyong paused for a second, looking like he had been asked a impossible quiz question. “Oh, you mean Johnny, right?”, he finally answered, “He’s one of my friends. Why do you ask?” Chaewon pointed at you, replying “Well, her half heart started blinking during our first class, to which he was in.” Taeyong looked at you, surprised with the notice. You nodded as a confimation to what Chaewon said. “I can ask him to meet us today.” he said, taking out his phone. “No, no, noo, it’s okay. You don’t need to” you quickly said, not meaning to bother both Taeyong and Johnny. “Taeyongie-ah, please ask him to show up” Chaewon pouted, trying to convince Taeyong to call Johnny. She even did a puppy face to convince him. He almost gave in but he shook his head. “She said it was okay, Chae” he said, patting her head. She pouted and replied “At least, one day, it doesn’t have to be today”. He sighed, saying he would call him later for him to show up someday. She hugged him in joy, thanking him for it. ——————– A few days have passed and, one day, you three were having lunch, and your half heart started blinking. Chaewon noticed it, being the one who’s always observant, and pointed it out. Both you and Taeyong widened your eyes at it. “I asked him to come today but I didn’t think he’d actually show up” Taeyong said, breaking the ice. You and Chaewon looked at him, confused about why he said that. “He doesn’t like the whole soulmate thing” he clarified. “Okay, but that’s exactly like (Y/N)” Chaewon said, earning a laugh from Taeyong. “No wonder they’re soulmates.” You glared at them. “Hey Taeyong, how are you?” someone said. You three looked at the direction of the voice, finding someone very tall. “Hey Johnny, I’m fine, how you been holding up?” Taeyong replied. You stare at him in awe. You thought Taeyong was handsome but this guy was tenfold. At least, for you, he was. “So this girl here is my soulmate?” Johnny said, sitting next to you. “Supposedly so. Check your wrist.” Taeyong said. Johnny pulled his right sleeve down, revealing a full heart. You did the same and, low and behold, your half-heart had turned into a full one. “So I guess we’re stuck together forever.” Johnny said, looking at you. “I guess so. I mean, you look like a nice guy, so why would I complain?” you replied. “I don’t know, maybe you’ll find a reason to complain” he said back at you. “Yeesh, just stop complaining about it.” Taeyong interrupted. You and Johnny stared at him, like he had said something wrong. “But you two look cute though!” Chaewon said, trying to relieve the tension in the air. You started blushing and hid your face with your hands. “Well, she has a point.” Johnny replied, chuckling at your reaction. He put an arm around your shoulders and pulled you towards him. “I guess we’ll just have to deal with the fact that we’re soulmates and live together” he said. Chaewon aw'ed at both of you and Taeyong smiled. You thought soulmates were a bad thing but, I guess this one ain’t so bad after all.

[ddaddsprompts]

Okay forgive me, cause idk how to exactly word this, but the (Dad)'s reactibg ro Dadsona and their kids playing around or having genuine fun with each other. (Also love your blog, look forward to seeing you guys post more!)

Craig; ‘So, uh, just a little warning, I’m not the most athletic guy, kids.’ You nervously chucked as Briar and Hazel hopped out of the car, getting ready to jog their hearts out. ‘If you see me panting and looking like I’m about to die, just give me a few minutes. Or hours.’ Craig had decided to bring you, Hazel and Briar along for his (and River’s) weekend run. Of course, the twins jumped up to the chance and practically teleported into the car when he announced this, but you, being the sleepy father that you were, had to be piggybacked all the way to the car. And even then, you were still hesitant about going out for a jog. Your legs weren’t being particularly good to you recently, but you decided to push on for the girls’ and Craig’s sake. Hazel grinned at you as she stretched out. ‘Don’t worry, Y/N. I have 911 on speed dial and Briar knows first aid. If that doesn’t work we can always splash pond water on your face to wake you up.’ ‘Hazel!’ Briar shook her head at her twin and turned to you. ‘She’s joking, Y/N. She wouldn’t throw pond water on anybody-’ Just as she spoke, Hazel had cupped a handful of pond water and splashed it on her twin’s body, making her gasp. ‘Oh my God! You are so in for it now, Hazel!’ Just like that, the twins ran off into the distance, disappearing behind a set of playground equipment. Craig chuckled and said he’d go after them before jogging off with River strapped to his chest. You settled for a bit of jogging yourself, trying to catch up to his pace, but you fell behind and just settled for sitting down on a bench when you felt a presence hiding behind the bench. When you turned around, you spotted Hazel crouching behind the bench, trying to keep in her giggles. ‘Shh, Briar’s on the lookout. Pretend I’m not here!’ Just then, Hazel came out from the woods, looking around in search for her troublesome sister. She found you hanging around and walked over to you. ‘Hey Y/N, have you seen Briar anywhere?’ Well aware that Briar was right behind you, you decided to mask her location. ‘I think I saw her somewhere in the… playground?’ Unfortunately, just as Hazel turned to head off to the playground, Briar was unable to contain her laughter and burst out into a fit of giggles that caught Hazel’s attention, running over to her sister and rubbing the top of her head. ‘There you are, you jerk! You got my clothes soaked!’ The girl scolded as her twin laughed without a care. You slowly stood up, trying not to disturb them when Hazel faced you with a mischievous grin. ‘Oh, don’t think I’m done with you, Y/N! You’re in on this, too!’ She pounced on you as your weak father legs failed to get away quick enough, making you lie on the ground as Hazel sat on your back. ‘Drop and give me 10, soldier!’ She jokingly ordered. Briar joined in too, hopping on your back. You felt their combined weight nearly crush you, but you pushed on for their enjoyment. ‘O-One, two…’ You heaved, feeling your lungs begin to cramp up as the twins laughed from on top of you. ‘T-Three…’ Out of nowhere, Craig jogged up to you three, smiling as he watched you struggling to continue the pushups. You couldn’t tell if he was smiling at you spending time with the kids or at your inability to do pushups with two adolescents on your backside. Either way, he pursued you until you (barely) finished the push-ups and collapsed on the park ground, drained out. The twins hopped off you and helped you up. ‘You did great, Y/N! I’m surprised, considering Hazel weighs like a cow.’ Briar teased, to which Hazel replied by sticking out her tongue playfully. ‘I think Y/N’s a little tired, why don’t you girls get some ice cream over there?’ Craig pointed over to an ice cream truck nearby and handed money to the twins, who sped off at the speed of light. Did these kids ever get tired? He helped you onto the bench, handing you his water bottle. ‘Bro, you and the girls get along really well, and I’m really glad you do. The twins haven’t been the best since the divorce and all, so it’s really cool that they’ve warmed up to you.’ As you fell back on the bench, River burbled on Craig’s chest, smiling at you. You made funny faces resulting in her laughter. Craig put his arm around you. ‘Oh, and River, of course.’Hugo; Being in a relationship with a middle/high school teacher had it’s pros and cons. Mostly cons, one of them being him becoming too busy with checking the students’ quiz papers that he had to postpone his long-awaited night stroll with you that evening.  ‘I’m sorry, honey. I’ll make it up to you soon, alright?’ Hugo meekly apologized, giving you a brief kiss before settling down at his desk. Knowing him, he would hardly leave unless he needed food, water, the toilet, or he was hit by a sudden realization that this was his life and needed moral support from his loving boyfriend. The point was, Hugo sure as hell wouldn’t be leaving his desk until he was finished, which left you to humor yourself for the night. You decided to go the easy route and head downstairs, plopping on the couch with a big bowl of popcorn for a trashy romcom movie fest. Switching through the channels, you settled on a particularly trashy one which had been running for about 5 minutes. Yet, you could already tell this movie was going to be cheesily awful, so you buckled down and let your eyes glaze over the screen. It was around the twenty-minute mark that you heard the door open, hearing Ernest’s familiar groan and the dragging of his backpack across the floor. But instead of going straight to his room, he stopped behind the sofa. You looked up to see the teen squinting at the television. ‘Is that… Two Loves, One Stone?’You raised an eyebrow, caring less about the movie title and more about Ernest being invested into garbage low budget romantic comedies. ‘Uhh, yes?’ Instead of shrugging it off and calling you a weirdo, he motioned you to scoot over so he could sit on the couch. He welcomed his hand into the bowl of popcorn and stared intensely at the screen. Was Ernest really into this stuff? You wanted to ask about this, but the young man looked so invested into the movie that you refused to disturb him and ate your popcorn in peace. Neither of you spoke until Ernest began sobbing. ‘E-Ernest? What’s-’  Ernest pointed at the screen, smiling as he wiped the tears from his eyes. ‘Victor finally woke up from his coma and confessed his love for Sarah, look! Sarah’s waited four years for this, and it’s just so, so, beautiful…’  As he went back to his happy crying, you awkwardly patted his back, even offering a piece of tissue which he silently accepted and blew his nose into. You felt a presence behind both of you and was met by Hugo leaning against a wall, looking as if he was going to cry from joy himself. You giggled from his dopey smile along with his watery eyes before turning back to Ernest. After the movie, Ernest retired to his room, muttering a good night to his father and slamming the door behind him. But Hugo couldn’t care less about his son’s attitude and practically crushed you into a hug, tears rolling down his cheeks as his glasses went askew.  ‘My son! My boyfriend! Bonding over a movie!’ He cried in joy and buried his head into your shoulder. ‘It was beautiful indeed…’Robert; There were three things that Robert loved the most; his boyfriend, his daughter, and whittling. So when he drove you and Val to the hill overlooking the city for some nice bonding time, he couldn’t contain his excitement as he handed Val a knife and a stick. She looked at the two items, a little confused. ‘Pops, it’s either you want me to carve this stick or you’re going to drag us into the woods to stab a cryptid you tied up, harvest its blood and sacrifice it to the Mothman.’ Robert’s face turned dark. ‘I’ve raised you well, Val. C’mon, we only have till daybreak to sacrifice the spider-eyed lamb before it escapes my traps and reaps our souls and the souls of the innocent. The stick must be buried deep into the lamb’s heart, to make sure that it shall never rise to harm anybody again. The Mothman shall be pleased.’  You stared at the father and daughter, staring at each other so seriously before collapsing in a fit of giggles. A true father and daughter pair. ‘Not sure if you remember, but I used to whittle a lot when you were a kid. Made you a little wooden dog around preschool.’ He grinned and started to peel with the grain. ‘You took it everywhere, y’know? You even named it.’ ‘Sheesh, I’m 24 and you still remind me of Maxine The Great Wooden Dog? You’re a true father.’ Val rolled her eyes jokingly. ‘Surprisingly, I do remember you whittling, but I still have no idea how you do it.’ Seeing Robert go into his own whittling world, you decided to explain it to Val yourself. ‘It’s kinda like peeling a potato, but you’re also trying to shape it so I guess it’s like shaping potatoes if that’s a thing. Don’t cut against the grain, it’s gonna splinter and ruin everything. Try cutting with it.’ You demonstrated, slicing the bark of the stick with ease. She tried to mimic you but felt a bit disabled due to her long nails. It wasn’t long until she accidentally cut herself. ‘Ah, shit.’ Val muttered, spotting red blood roll down her thumb. Robert snapped out of his whittling world and approached her, wrapping a bandana around her finger as you ran to the car to get the first aid kit. You returned with the box in hand and had her lean over the fence. ‘This might hurt a bit.’ You warned as you swiped the blood away and dabbed a bit of antibiotic ointment onto the cut. Sealing off the area with a band-aid, you rubbed her back as she pushed herself off the fence. ‘You alright?’ ‘Yeah. Thanks, Y/N.’ ‘Don’t worry, I got cut on the first time I did it, too. Your father was there and he patched me right up, didn’t you, Robert?’ You turned to Robert, who simply nodded and smiled at his stick. What was he so happy about? On the drive home, Robert nudged you after dropping her off at her hotel room. ‘Hey, thanks for looking out for Val.’ ‘Robert, it was just a cut-’ ‘No, no,’ He chuckled. ‘My girl’s a tough one, she can definitely handle a little cut. What I mean is that you were really into teaching her, even going so far as to help her out when she got cut. We should go to the lookout with her again soon.’Joseph; The kids, albeit were a little creepy, they seemed like they wouldn’t murder you in your sleep as your relationship with Joseph progressed. You baked with them, brought them to the park and even drove them to school. Of course, there were times that the twins stared at you in silence with similar grins or Chris’s soft chuckles seemed a bit darker rather than brighter, but Joseph assured you that the kids were all sweethearts.  The six of you decided to spend the afternoon baking sweets for the bake sale the following Saturday. You had to admit, it was nice spending time with the kids. Christie made shapes of the cookie dough, Christian mixed the brownie batter and Chris frosted the cupcakes with his father. Chrish was too young to help out, but he burbled happily in his high chair as if he were commanding you. You looked over Christopher, who’s arm looked sore from mixing the batter. ‘Hey, Christopher. I’ll stir it.’ You offered and he handed the bowl over to you. He looked bored and unwilling to be there, wanting to just finish the brownies and crawl off with his games. As you stirred the mix, he yawned and rested his cheek against his hand, obviously dulled to seemingly no end. Once you finished mixing, Crish had suddenly began sobbing in his high chair. Joseph turned around immediately. ‘Oh, jeez. He might be teething again…’ The man rushed over to see what the baby had been fussing about. Before you could turn back around to continue your business, you saw Christian with a handful of flour gripped into a fist, a mischevious grin on his face as he aimed for his father. You knew what had to be done. You dove in front of Joseph just as the flour flew at him, earning you flour dust all over your shirt. Chrish had stopped sobbing and laughed at your misfortune as Joseph realized what was happening. ‘No! My plan to vanquish the Spider King has been tainted!’ Cristopher cried out and reached for another fistful of flour. ‘Nevermind that. Squire! Help me conquer the evil Spider King and his valiant!’ Christie’s eyes lit up as she got involved in this game, withdrawing the harmless cookie cutter and pointing it at your and Joseph’s direction. ‘Back, ye foul creatures!’ ‘Hark! What shall we do, Y/N The Valiant? The Mage of Brownies and his rogue alchemist of cookies wish to defeat us!’ Joseph gasped. You put on a faux brave face and handed him a mixing spoon while also grabbing a spoon of your own. ‘Nay, Spider King. I shall battle these foes to my deathbed!’ You joked and pointed your spoon at Christie’s cookie cutter. ‘En guarde!’ As you and Christie fake battled with a cookie cutter and a plastic mixing spoon, Joseph shielded himself from the flour dust with a frying pan. Of course, this didn’t cover his entire body and he ended up getting flour everywhere. This resulted in Joseph throwing flour onto Christopher and Chris, who cried out gleefully and got into a flour dust war with their father. You and Christie noticed this and ran to your respective sides, you with Joseph and Christie with her siblings. The kitchen was an all-out war area, each side throwing flour to the other. However, the most dreadful of all situations happened; you and Joseph had run out of flour. You raised your mixing spoon as a surrendering gesture to the children. ‘Turn out! We surrender to your unworldly grasp, Mage of Brownies!’ This only pleased the children more, however, as Chris threw a final blow of flour at you. You gasped and made yourself fall back, collapsing against the counter as you pretended to die and grasped Joseph’s sleeve. ‘Farewell, my friend. I shall always be with you in spirit…’ You whispered in an exaggerated dying tone. The children laughed and walked over to you, helping you up as best as they could. ‘Well, that was fun. Have fun cleaning up!’ Chris exclaimed as the three of them bolted out of the kitchen, grins on their faces.

‘Scramble, foul beasts! Let it be known that the kingdom of Spider King and Y/N the Valiant shall rage on!’ Joseph called out to them, chuckling as he turned to you. ‘Well that was quite interesting, wasn’t it?’

 You attempted to dust the flour dust off of your pants. ‘As much as I love the kids, Joseph, I’d rather not be covered in flour from head to toe, thanks. It was fun, though.’ Joseph laughed and kissed your forehead. ‘Seems like the kids have warmed up to you. It’s so pleasing to see the five people in my life get along together so well.’  You and Joseph sat there in happy silence, Crish burbling contently in the background on his high chair. 

Damien; You knew Lucien was a good kid, underneath his rebellious ways and spikey hair. He seemed nice towards you, not giving you as much attitude as he did when you first met. To be honest, you were alright with him. But as you felt a need to be closer to him, you decided to make a little treat for him.

 While Damien was enjoying some alone time in his study, you let yourself into the kitchen to start with your little treat. Lucien had mentioned to you once that he was a vegetarian, unable to handle the thought of an animal being killed whenever he took a bite of his meal. Therefore, you began making the old pie recipe that Amanda loved so much, replacing the regular butter with vegan butter, of course. You stirred the mixture together and placed it into the oven, wondering if Lucien would enjoy it or if he’d just scoff and throw it onto your face. Once the pie was done, you let it cool for a bit before heading upstairs to Lucien’s bedroom and knocking on the door. The teen pulled the door open as soon as you knocked. ‘What is it?’ You cleared your voice and tried to muster up what little courage you had to speak with the edgy teen. ‘Hey, Lucien. You hungry? I made something that I think you’ll enjoy…’ Lucien raised an eyebrow but followed you downstairs. You knew you got him once he sniffed the air. ‘Is that pie?’ You led him towards the sitting room where the steaming pie awaited both of you, accompanied with finger foods and some almond milk. Lucien excitedly sat down on one of the chairs as you sliced him a piece of the pie. His eyes widened once he took a bite. ‘This is…actually pretty good. Never knew you were into baking, Y/N.’ He mumbled in between bites. You practically glowed with pride. ‘Thanks, Lucien.’ As you both enjoyed your meal, you saw a flash of raven hair disappear behind a corner, then two familiar magenta contact eyes peer out. Lucien finished around three pieces, muttering a thank you and heading back upstairs. You stood up, getting ready to clear out the table when you felt two arms wrapped around your waist. ‘I’ve never seen Lucien so happy with somebody who wasn’t causing trouble.’ Damien smiled and placed his head on your shoulder. ‘Have you cast some sort of spell on him?’ ‘Well, who knows? I might have placed some potion into the pie that makes me inexplicably easy to get along with.’ You joked. He laughed and sat down. ‘In all seriousness, it brings me joy that you’re getting along well with Lucien.’ He sighed. ‘Now, shall we have some more pie?’Mat; Carmensita was relatively nice to you, giving you all the respect you deserved and even joking around with you the same way you joked around with Amanda while she was still around. Your car rides going to school consisted of you and Carmensita singing along to the songs on the radio, Carmensita mostly as you hummed along to the familiar tunes. She was a good kid, really. You were relaxing at home, watching some television when Carmensita and Mat burst through the door, smiles on their faces. ‘Hey, Y/N! Dad’s taking me to the park, you coming?’ She grinned and plopped next to you. You stared skeptically at her. ‘Erghh, I don’t know, Carmen. These dad legs just can’t seem to push themselves off this couch.’ You joked. ‘Perhaps if there was a bit of offering for the creaking dad bones I could consider leaving the couch.’ Carmensita pouted. ‘Aweee, c’mon! This is the first time we’ve gone to the park together in a while!’ She whined, pulling at your arm. Mat crossed his arms and grinned at you. ‘We’re bringing a picnic basket full of food.’In a flash, you jumped up from the couch in record speed. ‘Welp, what are we waiting for, then?’ The young girl sniggered at your antics and dragged you towards the car, Mat staying behind to pack the picnic basket and left you two to wait in the car. Carmensita reached over for the radio, switching it on and letting cheery pop music fill the air. Her face lit up with glee. ‘Oh, wow! I love this song!’ She cheered and began eagerly singing along, occasionally stumbling over the words with a bashful look on her face. Her enthusiasm radiated off you and seeing her so happy made you attempt to join in on her fun, tapping to the rhythm of the song on the steering wheel and trying your best to follow along with the lyrics, though you failed miserably. Carmensita took no notice of this though and enjoyed singing with you in your own still carpool karaoke.  ‘Hey, guys?’ Mat chimed in, climbing into the backseat. ‘As much as I love to see you two singing your hearts out, I think we should get going before the sun sets.’ You nodded in agreement and left Carmensita to have her own solo, starting the car to drive off to the park. Despite the late afternoon setting which is around the time kids came to play, the park was actually quite empty with only a few children playing around and a couple parents relaxing on the benches. You and Mat carried the picnic basket as Carmensita set down the picnic blanket on the soft grass. Settling onto the blanket, she spotted a bunch of flowers and weeds not far from where you were sitting and walked towards them, plucking them off the ground and walking back to where you and Mat were sitting. ‘Y/N, have you ever made a flower crown before?’ She asked, handing you some flowers and a couple weeds. ‘It’s really fun, actually!’ ‘I think I made one in kindergarten for a girl I liked, but the flowers I used turned out to be the ones she were allergic to and she had to get sent home. I’ve tried to avoid making them ever since.’ You shrugged.  Carmensita rolled her eyes jokingly and began weaving. ‘Childhood trauma aside, flower crowns are an art to make and are pleasing to my generation’s odd taste in aesthetics. Here, let me teach you.’She helped you weave through the weeds and flowers, and while the finished product didn’t look the best, it wasn’t bad for a beginner such as yourself. Carmensita expertly created a beautiful matching flower crown and placed in on top of your head, then putting the flower crown you made and putting it on. ‘See? I told you it was an art form.’ She stuck out her tongue at you, then turned to Mat. ‘Don’t we look great, Dad?’ Mat was utterly silent, looking back and forth between you and his daughter before bursting into sudden tears. You immediately patted Mat’s back, nervously asking him what was wrong. ‘N-Nothing, it’s just that you both look so..adorable…’ Mat sniffed. Carmensita’s once concerned face converted back into her joking one. ‘Dad, don’t scare us like that!’ She groaned and hugged her father. You joined in on the family hug, feeling the father and daughter’s warm embrace course through your veins.Brian; When you got into a relationship with Brian, to say Daisy warmed up to you was an understatement. She got relatively close to you once you and Brian stopped competing against each other, helping you with your word jumbles and taking Maxwell out for walks. A sweet and intelligent girl indeed, and you had a satisfactory relationship.  You were cooking up lunch for the three of you, Brian working on the lawn while Daisy sat at the kitchen table, working on her assignments given to her the other day. The house was relatively silent so you could hear the scrapes of her ballpen against the parchment. From your peripheral vision, you could see that she had her tongue stuck out, concentrating on her work.  Since you were well aware of Daisy’s intelligence and willingness to complete her assignments, you went on life autopilot, daydreaming off to who knows where as you cooked your bacon in peace. So it was surprising when you heard a faint voice call out to you from the table. ‘Erm, Y/N?’ You turned to see Daisy sat upright on her seat, massaging her arm. ‘Do you think you could help me with this drawing? My hands are kinda starting to cramp up…’ ‘Oh, sure.’ You finished cooking the bacon and slid it onto a nearby plate before sitting next to the young girl. ‘What are we drawing here?’ The drawing was a sunny scene of two kids playing in a field, half colored with Daisy’s felt tip pens. You assumed she was cramping up from coloring, so you reached for her pens and began coloring in the scene. ‘This is a nice drawing, Daisy. What’s it for?’ You asked, out of pure curiosity. She turned a bright red and avoided your gaze. ‘Well, uh, we’re meant to draw something that we’re looking forward to this year.’ She explained. ‘I was kinda hoping to get a new friend this year, now that Amanda’s off in college.’ She seemed a bit sensitive about the topic, so you dropped it and continued coloring the drawing. Daisy joined you after resting her hand for a bit, coloring by your side in silence. You were a bit too careless with your coloring, getting a smudge of blue ink on your finger. Before you could walk over to the sink to wash it out, you had a sudden flash of an idea and picked up the blue ink, doodling a little face on your finger. The girl looked up at you in confusion. ‘Y/N, what are you-’ Before she could reply, you turned your middle finger with a little smiley face towards her, channeling the silliest voice you could get. ‘Hey, Daisy! I’m Mr. Blue! I heard you wanted a friend this year, and I’d be more than willing to be your friend!’ Daisy looked perplexed at first, before bursting into a fit of giggles. Amanda taught her well in pretending. She reached for a red felt tip pen and handed it to you. ‘I think Mr. Blue is a bit lonely. You should give him a friend!’ You got to work and doodled a similar smiley face on your pointer finger, but with little eyelashes on the end and presented it to her. ‘Hello! I’m Miss Red, and I too want to engage into a friendship with you, young lady!’ You let your voice raise a few octaves, hurting your throat but making Daisy full on laugh. She grabbed your hand and etched a few strokes of clothes onto her new finger friends. As she was applying dots of makeup onto Miss Red’s “face”, Brian walked into the kitchen, a bit confused at the setup. ‘Daisy? I knew you were good at drawing, but I didn’t know you were a tattoo artist.’ He peered down at her work. ‘What have you two been up to?’ She raised your palm to show her father your inked fingers. ‘Y/N says that they’re my friends, Dad! I gave them clothes and everything!’ Brian chortled at her daughter’s silly antics. It wasn’t often that he got to see his daughter so childlike. ‘Well, that’s great, pumpkin. Let’s invite them over for lunch, eh?’ You three (well, five) had a great lunch together, letting Mr. Blue and Miss Red out occasionally to make a silly remark that made Daisy giggle in her seat. Her father looked beyond the goofy personas and stared at you wistfully. It wasn’t until Daisy was up in her room and you were washing away the finger friends that Brian walked up to you with a satisfied look on his face. ‘You’re great with Daisy, you know that? She really needs friends, and I think she feels comfortable with you.’ ‘Don’t forget yourself, Brian. You’re her father for goodness sake.’ You joshed. ‘Do I hear a competition for friendliest with Daisy?’‘Winner gets unlimited cuddles?’‘You’re on, Harding.’ 

-mod coffee cake