#dinner's done I can spam more art now

[idontplaytrack]

i need buff reader x janis, who carries janis and places her on her lap when janis doesn’t wanna eat 😫😫

Where else would I be, baby?

Janis ‘Imi’ike x fem! reader

Warnings: coarse language, fluff, bad eating habits

In which Janis sometimes gets so busy she doesn’t even think about eating and reader has eventually come up with ways to have her eat something

“Oh, my God.” The second you stepped into the house, you saw Janis out in the backyard, art supplies sprawled all over the floor. You rushed over to her, “Janis. You’re still here?”

“Where else would I be, baby?” She asks, barely glancing at you.

“Have you been sitting here all day?” You crouched down to talk to her, then just sat down.

“I did get up to use the bathroom.” She tells you, eyes completely focused on her art piece.

You raised your brows, perplexed. “Did you eat anything at all?”

“Didn’t you even think about it.” She mutters.

“I’ve been gone six hours, Janis.” You looked at her, horrified.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Because you’ve been here, engrossed in your art.” You sighed, “Come on, let’s go out for dinner.”

“No, I need to get this done.” She says dismissively, “And you just got back from work, so…”

“So, we need to eat.” You stated.

“You go.”

You scoffed, “Janis.”

“y/n.” She mocks.

You exhaled, a little frustrated, “Janis, come on. It’s dinner time and you barely ate anything at breakfast.”

“Yeah, being on a period will do that to ya.” She laughs dryly.

“You know what I’ll do.”

“Try it, I don’t care.” She replies, tongue sticking out slightly between her lips in concentration. “I need to finish this tonight. I’ve been putting this off doing nothing for like two weeks.”

“I’m literally about to pick you up off the floor so you will sit at the table while I make dinner. If I have to spoon feed you so you’ll eat something, I will do it too.”

“Sure.” Janis chuckles. “Please do that.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” You nearly snorted, standing up. Easily, you picked her up when she least expected it and walked into the dining area then placed her on the stool by the island.

She sulked, clearly defeated. Janis groans, resting her head on folded arms. “I know you like working on your art, but you gotta remember to take care of yourself, baby.”

“I know, I know.” She sighs softly, “I just forget. If I busy myself with something I don’t even feel hunger, it’s like the last thing on my mind.”

“Which is why I told you…you gotta take a break every now and then, get up and stretch, walk, drink some water, have a snack.” You turned around to face her completely for a moment. “You need to eat to survive.”

Janis sighs, “It’s a bad habit, I’m sorry.”

“And that’s exactly why I’m helping you out with that.” You shrug. There was leftover rice in the fridge from last night so you took that out and opened up a can of Spam, along with the half-used bag of frozen vegetables. All that in a pan, dinner was settled and ready soon enough.

“Are you gonna try to avoid me now that the food’s done?” You eyed her suspiciously. She struggled with it sometimes. She’s never said it, but her actions spoke louder than words.

She doesn’t say anything but sulked and raised her brows. A sigh then falls from her lips as you plated the food. You left your portion in the pan though, literally instructing her to sit in your lap so she couldn’t go anywhere until she’s had her food. You weren’t eating anything until you knew she’s eaten. You’ve had your lunch, she hadn’t. So, you know, she had to eat. You could wait a few minutes more.

But of course, Janis was a little shit sometimes. Refusing to even sit down beside you now. “Ipo.” You exhaled harshly, “It’s like you want me to put you in my lap just so you’ll stay put and eat.”

She grins, “Maybe I do. Be my guest.”

Without a second thought, you grabbed her off her feet, away from the fridge. Closing its door in the process, “That was too easy.”

“Yeah, you’re jacked.” A chuckle falls from her lips.

“Okay, now— eat up.” You handed her the spoon. Janis jokingly groans but still dug into the food. You rested your chin on her shoulder with an arm wrapped around her waist.

“How was work?”

“I smell like popcorn, and I got new blisters. And a customer yelled at me today, so…same old, same old.” You laughed, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

“Ouch.” She turned her head slightly, seething at your revelation. Then, she spots the red bumps on your hand. “That looks…painful.”

“Eh.”

“Aren’t you gonna eat?”

“My head hurts, so I think I’m gonna go take a hot shower afterwards first before I eat.”

“You can go now.” Janis tells you, shoving a spoonful of the fried rice into her mouth.

“I kinda don’t want to.” You said quietly, arm tightening around her waist.

“Hm, why’s that?” She asked, a cheeky smile forming on her face.

You let out a sharp exhale through your nose, trying not to chuckle, “I just wanna spend some time with you, is that so bad?”

“Aww.” Janis teases, “Go drink some water. Maybe you’ll feel better.”

“No way. You’ll run away from here and we both know that’s a fact.” You gasped, “You’re my prisoner until you finish this plate.”

“Oh wow.” She replies, bored.

“Excuse me?” She played along, “Janis ‘Imi’ike. Just trying to make sure you stop this unhealthy habit eventually.”

She ends up giggling, “Sorry, baby. I know.” Janis turned to look at you, beaming. You sighed, “You’re so fucking cute, you know that?”

“Oh, I am?”

You pressed a kiss to her cheek, reaching your hand up to squeeze her chin, “Yes. Yes, you are.”

🏷️ Tag list

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartnstuffs @pda128

💭A/N

I’m actually giggling at my screen reading back on this drabble lmao.

[imthepunchlord]

There's a lot of memes around about tumblr blogs annoying their followers by hopping around various special interests/hyperfixations. While I always laugh when I see those, I have to admit that sometimes it feels like I literally follow you just because of that. Pretty much everything you suddenly start reblogging I've never seen before and 9 times out of 10 I go look into it and become interested purely because of you. I can't remember which Fandom made me first follow you, but I have no regrets.

This is a high compliment from me. I'm known irl for being fixated on/obsessed with the same anime after almost 20 years and not being more than passively interested in very much else.

So yeah, your taste is 10/10 thank you for reblogging all of the things on this blog instead of making new ones you wonderful amazing person you.

That being said, my special interest anime is Princess Tutu and I actually screamed the second I saw it come up on my blog from you. I'm so happy to know that you like it enough to reblog and it feels so validating to know that someone with your good taste likes it too. I always felt weird for liking this now-old anime and feel like I'm a little less so now.

So again, thank you. Just... thank you. For doing what you do.

I am so happy to hear that, as that is part of the reasons I reblog different things is that I want to share what I am liking and maybe someone else will like it too; though much of it is just an episode of hyperfixation where I want to look at art and read posts and reblog away. Which I know can just be a spam on the feed (but I can't help it). So I am glad it's opened up to new things to enjoy for you.

And Princess Tutu has been amazing so far! Not done with it yet, but it's been so much fun and funny and wholesome, and gosh, Duck is so sweet and cute. Fakir I am amazed how he improved quickly and is likable. Love Miss Edel. I'm going to need to get a shirt or mug of her quote or something cause that is such a metal quote from her.

Princess Tutu was actually on my watch list for a while, and it's the favorite anime of one of my friends. Said friend has been joining me weekly for dinner where we get to watch shows together, and I voted for Princess Tutu next.

And what's supposed to be just an ep or 2 in one weekly setting has been becoming like 6 eps in one setting. We are anticipating finishing it next week.

I'm really glad I finally gave it a chance. It's so good.

[dewcrafter]

The Painter

Painting is so therapeutic, I love painting but most importantly I love seeing him each day, I walk up into the attic with my wireless headphones and look at all my art of him, my handsome Mr. Faceless, i've been drawing him for years and I don't really know why my ma says he could be a lover or close friend from a previous life which would be pretty cool but I don't really believe in all that, not to be offensive but I believe in research and studies then just theories and speculation "Oi Atsumu" said my brother, looking behind me I see him leaning on the stairwell up to my attic "who said you could come in?" I asked annoyed "come on stop being so upset about what I said about Mr. Past Lover" he said looking at me slightly apologetically "go away samu!" I said walking over and pushing him off the short ladder and closing the hatch locking myself in our attic so I could get to work "ATSUMU SERIOUSLY" yelled my twin brother "BE QUIET" I yelled back after pushing my little sofa on top of it "DON'T COME CRYING TO ME LATER WHEN YOU CAN'T GET OUT" he yelled back making me huff in anger before walking over to my easel and sitting down in front of it grabbing my paint brushes and paint and getting the paint ready as I find a nice playlist to listen to while I paint, I find one and quickly put my headphones and hit play as I start painting Mr. Past Lover or as I like to call him Omi Omi.

A few hours have passed since I've started painting and samu keeps spam calling me so when I finally pick up "what" I said annoyed into the phone "go out and get groceries you gremlin" said samu "why should I?" I asked even more annoyed "if you do you get to pick out dinner" he said which was enticing but I really wanna keep on working another Omi Omi portrait "tsk fine, we are having fatty tuna and cream cheese stuffed mushrooms" I said quickly hanging up and moving the couch to get dressed because yes, I went up into the attic in my robe, who can stop me it's my house. After getting dressed in my favorite booty shorts and wearing a white off shoulder cutout with a tan super crop on top before grabbing my satchel that had some paper and a pencil also my wallet but I steal samu's anyways as I left the house it was a nice summer day, I really love the summer it always is so nice and warm. When I finally got to the grocery store I quickly went around grabbing everything on the list "hey you" I heard someone say making me look up curiously to see some rando staring at me "uh hi?" I said slightly nervously as he kinda death glared me "what's your name" he asked making me pause "I'm not telling" I said before going back to shopping not really caring that he was following me, I work out and am pretty buff so I think I could take him down in a fight. When I finally got to the cash register the young women that was ringing me up kept on looking at me which made me cringe a bit on the inside because honestly I thought this outfit made it pretty clear I was gay as hell but I guess not, when she was done checking and bagging everything I was about to put samu's card in when that guy spoke up again "let me pay for all that" which made me uneasy but he didn't let me respond as he put his card in quickly paying for everything so I hope he doesn't decide to steal all of the food I thought as I grabbed everything and started walking off "gonna walk off without even saying thank you?" questioned the guy walking next to me and now he was kinda freaking me out cause huge stalker flags "why should I, what you did was out of the goodness of your heart" I said speeding up as I kept walking "come on, at least tell me your name" he said pleadingly "no thanks" I said annoyed "please, look I know this is weird but you look like someone my friend has been painting all the time and I just gotta know" he said looking at me pleadingly which made me stop and sigh "why would knowing my name help out your 'friend'" I said making it obvious I didn't think it was any friend he was talking about "well the person he's been painting obviously doesn't have a name and he's been calling him atsu and I know it's weird but like if he found out there was someone who looked like the painting out there he'd actually go out and talk to other people" he said giving me a hopeful smile "so you want me to basically flirt with your friend because I look like some person he keeps painting?" I asked unamused "yes.." he said uneasily "well thanks for the offer but it's a big no, now stop following me." I said leaving him behind hearing him sigh as he walked off which thank god he did. I didn't wanna wait any longer, I was hungry.

—--

Inspired by the art from drawnbymabel on insta

[art-anomaly]

My hero OC, Tenacious, Ten for short.

[katacanons]

omg your love letter event is so aaaaa

can i please have a love letter from robin that she likes the fem!reader reader who is a fellow geisha in wano

feel free to ignore, thanks for reading!

have a nice day

Hi Siya! I really had so much fun writing this! This is so cute, I wish I was reader! a/n: I headcanon Robin is much more talkative and open in written correspondence. I have a friend who is just like her: quiet and “gloomy” in person but spams you with the longest messages 

Nico Robin x fem!reader  HAIRBRUSH: Robin is in love with her fellow geisha in Wano who also happens to be her roommate. Sweet, affectionate Robin Canonverse, SFW (just a little suggestive) Word count: 268

My Darling __,

Hey! You're at rehearsal right now and I had some free time to myself so I decided to write you. Actually, I’m still trying to get used to writing with a brush and parchment so it took me a few tries to figure it out. But the resulting art is really pretty, don’t you think? Just like the geisha makeup you taught me! I still have the palettes you lent me and I think I’m getting better at applying my face paint. That powder you gave really worked wonders!

I just want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me. My first day in the okiya, having a cute roommate like you made adjusting here so much easier. And the way you help me fix my hair everyday before we went to practice is a routine I could get used to. I love doing your hair, too, which always smells like sakura. The tricks you let me in on to get the dance moves right were a lifesaver. ♡ Just watching you dance so gracefully is adorable… I wouldn’t know what to do without you. 

As a sign of my gratitude, I was wondering if you wanted to spend this Tuesday on a day trip to the onsen. We’ve been working so hard we need a break! Spending time together is always the best, I think. But this time around, we won’t just be in our room, having fun… ;) Let’s have a spa day, my treat~

Let's have dinner after your practice! We can talk about our plans then ♡

With love,

Robin

[theglitterypages]

Hi! I’m a new follower so i’m not quite sure if you accept requests now but if u do! i have this request that i think would be really nice!

I just read ur one shot called “behind the scenes” and i literally fell in love with it! I was thinking if you could do a sequel or part two where levi and reader talk about what he said in the interview and come to terms with their feelings for each other and then he says that they will take it slow and court reader properly.

After that, they would have like cute moments together like, she goes live on ig or such and he join and then flirts with her through the comment section 😆🥰 they have like small dates. And then when they film again for the next season, the other actors will ask what’s the deal with the both of them and Levi says he’s courting reader ><

Just a thought hehe i hope you have a great day!

Title: Behind The Scenes Part Two

Pairings: Levi x fem! Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3000

A/N: Hello darling, I'm so sorry it took me so long to respond, I've been a little busy in cleaning our house these days and I'm trying to spend less time using gadgets that's why I rarely find time to write. Anyways, I hope you'll like this one. This is not proofread so Expect many errors, I will edit this in no time. Thanks for requesting dearie💗💗💗

Read Part 1 Here

°°°°°

“Let's see each other next season! Good luck on your upcoming projects especially you Miss Marvel!” Zeke walked towards you and hugged you tight.

The whole cast just finished eating dinner, it was a dinner filled of laughter, the whole cast talked about the days on set, the silly things and other stuffs. Throughout the years of filming attack on titan, every one became each other's best friends and every time the filming are finished it's kinda sad because it will take time before you guys start filming together again.

“Goodnight everyone!”

Levi guided you towards the parking lot, his car was parked beside Eren who's now opening the door for Mikasa. “Drive straight my sister home, it's late.” Eren nodded and saluted to Levi before he climbed up the car and drove off.

Levi, on the other hand also opened the door of the car for you before he entered the car himself.

••••

“Thanks for driving me home, Lev. Do you want go inside for some tea?”

“It's fine, I don't wanna keep you up. We barely had enough time to sleep these days because of the promotions and stuffs.” Despite of saying that Levi is still standing in front of you, his eyes are full of hesitation and he kept opening his mouth just to pursed his lips together again as if holding himself back.

You are holding yourself back as well, you wanted to talk about what he said on the interview, you wanted to make things clear but you're too scared to do so.

Levi is a man who's hard to read, you wouldn't know if what he's saying is for the sake of fun or it is because he meant it.

Maybe he said that because you two are good friends, right, that's the only logical reason that popped into your mind.

You smiled fakely, trying to hide your disappointment to the fact that he's not gonna say anything, you get ready to turn your back on him to go inside your house but Levi suddenly held your hand, causing you to look back at him with wide eyes, “W-What is it?” you stammered.

“I mean it.”

“You mean what?”

Your heart is beating so fast, you're suddenly wondering it is because of Levi or it is because you have a heart problem.

Levi sighed and squeezed your hand gently as he looked into your eyes, he prepared himself a lot of times already but why is he getting afraid all the time?

He wanted to say it, say that this is more than just a friendship, that this is more than a job, that what he's doing is not a publicity stunt but he's tongue-tied. His mind went blank the moment he met your gaze, everything that he practiced before all of this has gone into the abyss.

But if he won't take a step forward, he'll always be at the same place and he wouldn't want that.

“I like you—no scratch that, I'm in love with you.”

“We had no liquor earlier so you can't be drunk. I have no times for jokes right now Lev.” you wanted to say that you like him too but what if this is just a joke? Can you afford to lose the friendship you to has?

Levi took a deep breath before he slowly nipped your chin and leaned down, his lips almost touching yours. “I know this is ridiculous but I..fell in love with you. At first I thought it was just because I'm portraying a man who's possibly in love with your character but as time passes by, I realized I'm not portraying Levi's feelings anymore.” he closed his eyes and gulped hard, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he do so.

“On Erwin's last day on shoot, I've realized that my remaining time with you are short and I realized that I'm not ready to let all of this end just like that.”

Flashback

“Okay so Levi you'll be choosing between Armin and Erwin, you know what to do just show us that you're heartbroken without obviously doing it and then once Samantha and Hanji came in look at Samantha with a face of relief, because in this scene Levi is glad to see her alive.” Levi nodded to the director, the make up artists put more fake bloods all over his face and when he sat nearby Erwin, the latter opened his eyes.

“Come on, man. Loosen up, the camera's not yet rolling.” Erwin smiled, Levi is a passionate actor and he gives his best in his craft, this series for example, Levi doesn't have any stunt doubles, he learned martial arts for the role and he did great portraying Levi Ackerman.

“Lights, Camera, Action!”

The scene went well and everyone cheered since this is the last day of filming for Erwin's character, Armin immediately hugged his older co-actor, Jean and Connie did the same while Mikasa and Sasha are clapping and smiling at the production team.

You and Levi are standing side by side behind Erwin, “This is sad.” you commented while Levi sighed beside you, “Imagine what my old guy feels.” Levi told you referring to his character in the series, you shrugged your shoulders and walked towards Erwin to hug him.

“You're the best, Commander Erwin.” you smiled and did the salute in the series before chuckling, “Shinzou wo Sasageyo!” you told him and the other actors heard you, everyone started doing the salute and shouted, “Shinzou wo Sasageyo!” Erwin looked around and smiled at everyone.

“Oh come on! It's not like I'm real dead, it's just my character.”

That wraps up the filming that day, while everyone was busy taking pictures with Erwin because this is his last day, Levi remained watching the whole cast from afar.

His eyes landed on you as you cry hugging Erwin, telling him that you'll miss working with him.

That was when Levi had come to realize that once this series is finished, he will never be ready to share the last moment on and off screen with you.

He's been working in this industry for a long time, not all friendships formed in work could last after a project is done, that was one of the reason why he's doing his best not to get attached especially in leading ladies but right now, for working so long with these whole cast it is inevitable to be attached to someone so similar to him yet different in other ways.

A small smile made its way across his lips as he see you laugh with the casts as you stood beside his sister.

One thing has come to his mind at that moment, he will never be ready to let you go.

End of Flashback

“I don't want to pressure you or anything. We can take it slow, I'm ready to court you properly, I haven't done any of that before but I'll do everything...let's just give it a try.”

All you could do was stare at him, blinking slowly as you tried processing everything he said, it was surprising to see him tremble like this, you can feel how cold his hands are and how his eyes are glassy because of the tears forming at the corner of his eyes.

“Well...I like you too but we'll take things slow, right? I don't want any of us to be hurt.”

“I understand—wait, what? You like me too?”

“Should I take that back?”

“No!”

You yelped with surprise when he hugged you tightly, his arms wrapped around you as he whisper sweet nothings on your ear.

“Levi it's too tight.” you giggled and he immediately pulled away, his cheeks are red so are his ears, he's cute with that blush but the way he smiled at you makes you feel like you've won the lottery, who knew you could see the Levi Cold Ackerman smile like this?

“I promise, I'll do my best.” he told you before pressing his lips on your forehead.

••••••

“Miss Y/N? Ahm the show asked if you could go live on Instagram to entertain the fans and inform them that you'll be in the Night Show.” you smiled at the staff and took the tablet in her hands since you'll be using the show's account to go live.

You started the live while your hairstylist is still fixing your hair, “As you guys can see my beloved hairstylist is not yet done fixing my hair, I will be at the Night Show! Oh my gosh I don't know what to say next, I'm just gonna read the comments.” your hairstylist laughed at your silliness and took a glance on the screen before turning her attention back to your hair.

“Okay, @ynsupremacy says she's been waiting for me to appear on the show. Oh thank you very much dearie! I've always wanted to be here too thanks for your support.”

“Oh my gosh take it easy babes, I can't read everything in just one go.”

You scrolled through the comments and sees a familiar username, “Someone deadass spammed the comment section you guys, Levi you little bastard stop spamming. Let my babies talk to me.” you narrowed your eyes at the screen before reading Levi's comment.

“I can't believe Angels go live on Instagram, says @captainlev.”

You looked back at your hairstylist after hearing her read Levi's comment, you blushed and she laughed at your reaction before shaking her head. “What? I was just reading. Nice on Captain Lev!” she smirked at the camera before looking back at you.

“I'll be back in a minute.” she said before walking out of the room.

You could still see Levi's comments but you did your best to ignore it so you could talk to your fans. “Hello @erenlegalwife happy birthday! I'm gonna tell Eren that it's his legal wife's birthday.” you chuckled. It's amusing to see their usernames, the comments are also hilarious but there are some bashers in the comments. You didn't mind them and just proceeded in interacting with your fans.

Another comment was shown but before you could even read it someone covered your eyes and you squealed, you removed their hands off your eyes and when you looked back you gasped in surprise.

“You kept on ignoring my comments, meanie.” Levi smirked as he opened his arms, asking for a hug and when you're too slow to hug him he's the one to walk towards you and hug you tight as he laughed loudly. “I scared you big time didn't I?” he teased.

You hit his back and pullled away from the hug. “God, I hate you.” it's been two months since you two confessed to each other, just like what he said, you two are taking it slow.

You guys are going out on dates from time to time yet there's no official relationship status, you didn't need the label actually, you're sure Levi wouldn't break your heart or anything, you just want to enjoy every time that you're with him.

“Okay, Levi will be joining us too but believe me I have no idea that he's a guest as well.” you told the fans as they ask you in the comment section.

“Figured I gotta surprise you, it's much better this way right?”

“You told me you're filming for that movie, big liar.”

Levi laughed and pinched your cheeks gently, “Sorry, I just want to surprise you.” he smiled sweetly and you looked away, blushing. “Pft. Never mind...” you bit your lower lip and scrolled through the comments but Levi already read something out loud.

“Ooh... @levisamlover says ‘you two look good together, just date already’ thank you for that. I also think that we look really good with each other, thanks for supporting my claim.” he smirked.

••••

“Are you sure you're fine with us just having a date at home? Well you probavly don't wanna let the press see us.” Levi asked as he wrapped jis arms around your shoulder, pulling you close to him as you two watch a movie.

“Hmm, nah the press has been seeing us two a lot but I don't care, I just want to stay close with you like this.” you told him, hugging him sideways, Levi chuckled and kissed the top of your head before feeding you some popcorn.

In the middle of the movie, Levi looked down on you just to see you asleep with a pout on your lips. He chuckled to himself and he slowly scoop you up being careful not to wake you up. He carried you towards your bedroom and he lay you down on the bed gently.

He smiled at your sleeping form before kissing your forehead. “I love you, do you know that? The day's ending yet I'm still 'ere falling in love with you again and again, deeper and deeper at every moment that passes by.” he took his phone from his pocket and took a picture of you, it became his new hobby, he's not the type to love taking pictures before but now that he has you, he wants to capture every moment.

He wants every moment to be saved, so he can go back to it every time that he misses you.

••••

“Nice job YN! Another action stunt beautifully done!”

You let out a sigh of relief when you're done filming your part, you guys are filming Eren's fight with the War Hammer Titan, along with the Survey corps fighting scene.

When you've finally done your part you immediately sat on the floor, feeling drained because of the insane stunts you had to do.

Levi was quick to hand you a bottled of water, he also naturally took his handkerchief out of his pocket to wipe your sweats, technically it is your PA's job but Levi was way faster than them.

Zeke and Reiner who just got finished their parts too, laughed at the scene because your PA was standing awkwardly as she watch Levi steal her job. “Man, I can't be the only one feeling that something changed with this two.” Zeke smirked nudging Reiner's sides, the latter hummed to agree before flicking his eyes on you and Levi.

“He's not even using his trailer anymore. He's with her all the time, Levi is acting sus.”

“Not to mention the fact that they kept on stealing glances all the time.” Hanji appeared behind the two holding her phone in her hand as she captures a photo of you and Levi laughing together. “Once we caught 'em in the act they'll spill the beans, believe me.” Armin who just finished filming also appeared holding his bottled water.

“I have a plan.” Hanji smirked deviously.

•••

“What, you're telling me to flirt with YN? Mikasa, I don't want to get killed by your brother.” Eren complained when he found out that the plan that they were thinking was getting Levi jealous so he would spill the tea.

Mikasa glared at Eren and smacked the back of his head. “Just do it, we'll be here to do something once he attempt to kill you.” Eren stared at her unbelievably before looking at his older brother. “Why don't you tell Armin to do it?” Zeke pushed his glasses up his nose before shaking his head. “Nah, Armin is like her son, Levi won't get jealous but you, a fuckboy would appear as a threat.” Zeke explained and everyone agreed.

“Man you're the one who flirts like a Seahorse.” Armin told him.

Eren narrowed his eyes, unable to understand Armin's sentence. “What do you mean by that smart-ass?” he growled.

“Seahorses flirts a lot, you're just like them.”

“I hate you all.”

Zeke got impatient of his brother's drama and he immediately pushed him towards your direction, the poor man almost landes face flat on the floor if you weren't able to grab his arm.

“Eren!” you gasped and helped him up, when Eren got up his face is pale, he smiled awkwardly and looked back at his brother to send a glare on his way before looking back at you. “You look beautiful today, YN.” he complimented.

You were taken aback by the sudden compliment so you just smiled before tapping his back, “Thanks, you look handsome today too, nice stunts by the way.” Eren looked around and he sees no traces of Levi so he loosened up a bit.

“I was just wondering if you'd like to have some coffee, there's this new coffee shop nearby and I've heard they have nice coffee.”

“Oh yes su—”

“She doesn't like coffee.”

Eren wanted to run when he heard Levi spoke behind him but he had no choice but to look at him, “Hey Lev! What's up?” Levi raised his brow to Eren, he didn't respond to him and went to your side as he glares at Eren.

“Play nice.”

“What am I? Your dog?” he whispered and you glared at him. “I'm just saying that you should act nice.” Levi crossed his arms over his chest and let out a deep breath. “I am nice.” you shook your head and massaged the bridge of your nose, there's no point in calming a jealous Levi.

“Ohohoho! I see what's happening here! Seems like sugar plum and captain grumpy is hiding somethin' eh? Spill it. What's with the possesiveness and lovey-dovey moments?”

Levi's eyes widened for a secons before he looked away, his ears and cheeks are red. Zeke's teasing smirk tells him that the man already know something, Hanji, Mikasa and Armin's stares are also meaningful, it seems like they're pressuring him to give an answer.

Levi clicked his tongue and acted cool as he looked at his co-actors and sister.

“I'm courting her, got any problem with that? Flirt with her again and you're done, Yeager.” he held your hand and dragged you away from the group while Zeke and Eren's laughter boomed at the whole set.

“YEAGERS! QUIET!”

[thefactsofthematter]

hi bestie <3 you said send in some requests, so i'm suggesting:

javid with, "it's not okay! you're not fine!"?

i hope you have a good day !!!

hi bestie <333 i had so much fun with this, i haven't done a short little fic in ages!! here's a 2.7k javid fic - a college au and a classic (emotional) hurt/comfort type deal, heavy on the comfort ;)

-

"Wanna come for dinner at my parents' house tonight?"

Davey is laying on Jack's couch after his last class of the day, since Jack's apartment is just off campus, and it's a ridiculously convenient place to go nap after a long day of school. He honestly spends more time here than at his own apartment that he shares with his sister, a short train ride away.

"I'd love to," Jack replies, his gaze still glued to his computer screen, "but I totally forgot I have an art history paper due at midnight, analyzing a painting, and I haven't started. It needs to be ten pages, and I don't even have an outline. I'm gonna sit here and write until my eyeballs fall out."

Davey laughs softly.

"That sucks. Do you at least have some research done?"

Jack turns to him with completely dead eyes.

"Not a single academic source."

Davey glances at the clock. Jack has seven hours to pull this off, which is doable, but... intense. It would've been a lot easier to spread it out over a few afternoons, and it'll be a painful squeeze to get ten comprehensible pages of writing done tonight. Jack can write decently fast, but his spelling and grammar are atrocious, so he'll have to factor in editing time too. Davey is not envious of these circumstances in the slightest.

"Shit. Good luck. That sounds awful, but I'm rooting for you. What's your prof's late assignment policy?"

Jack, entirely beaten down, leans forward to rest his forehead on his keyboard.

"He won't accept them past the due date without a good reason... which I don't have. I'm just an idiot and forgot to put it in my planner— thank god Romeo texted me today to ask if I was done."

Davey pushes himself up and walks over to where Jack is sitting at his little dining table, under the constantly-flickering fluorescent bulb. He wraps his arms around Jack's shoulders and kisses the back of his neck.

"You got this. I'll come back here after dinner and bring you leftovers, okay? My mom's gonna be sad you couldn't make it, so she'll totally pack up a plate for you."

"You don't have to come all the way here," Jack sighs. "Your place is closer to your parents, and this is out of your way— you have work in the morning anyways, so you should go home and go to bed. I'll be fine, I'll probably write faster alone anyways."

Davey kisses him again, this time leaning around to plant one on his cheek.

"If you're sure." Jack's plan is probably the smart move, since Davey's shifts at his stupid coffee shop job start ridiculously early, and coming here would mean staying up with Jack until he finishes, probably distracting him. "In that case, I'll see you tomorrow after work, and I'll bring the food then... keep me posted about the paper, text me when you finish. And make sure you eat something."

Jack turns back to look at him with a strained, stressed attempt at a smile.

"For sure. Go have a nice time with your family, and tell everyone I say hi."

-

"Aba, you're doing it wrong. You have to use your left arm."

It's getting late in the evening, dinner has been eaten, and Les is trying to coordinate the family to make a TikTok with him. It's not exactly going well.

"My left or your left?"

"It doesn't matter, we have the same left!"

Davey has thankfully been placed in the back row, both because he's tall and lanky, and because he's so uncoordinated that Mom used to make you wear one of those leash backpacks as a kid to keep you from wandering into traffic... which is true, but Davey isn't sure why Les even knows about that. He certainly wasn't around yet when that was the case, so he probably heard it from Sarah.

While Les tries once again to explain how this little dance is supposed to work, Davey's phone starts to buzz in his pocket. It's probably a spam call, but he's not particularly invested in the dance lesson so he pulls it out to check.

Incoming call: cowboy babyy 💖🤠

Davey frowns. Jack never calls him. It's always texts or voice memos, since he's got some kind of weird aversion to talking on the phone. If he's calling, it must be important.

"Hi babe," he says, pressing his phone to his ear and walking off to his old bedroom to get some quiet, while Les shouts at him in the background for not taking this seriously. "How's the homework going?"

Jack is quiet for a second too long as Davey toes the door shut.

"...Not great. I'm really frustrated." He pauses and sniffles a little, sounding almost like he's holding back tears. "I don't know why I called you while you're having a good time with your family, though. I shouldn't be bugging you."

"Hey," Davey breathes, "you're not bugging me at all, sweetheart. Is the paper not going well?"

"I just... I'm so bad at writing, and I don't know what I'm talking about, and I have no idea how I'm gonna get this done in time." His voice is shaking, and it's breaking Davey's heart a little. "I'm being dramatic, though. I just need to keep working on it."

Davey sits down on the edge of what's now a guest bed, his old outer space-themed comforter replaced with something more neutral.

"You're not dramatic, it's okay to be upset. Do you want me to come over and help?"

Jack's breath hitches softly, and it confirms that he's almost definitely crying.

"You don't have to, you're busy with your folks. I'm sorry for calling." He shudders a little as he must try to take a deep breath. "It's okay... I'm fine."

Davey sighs, almost exasperated with Jack's self-sacrificial sense of pride. He'll never ask for anything for himself, not wanting anyone to go out of their way for him, even when he seems to be having a panic attack of sorts.

"It's not okay; you're clearly not fine, Jackie," he replies. "We already ate, and I'm not busy. If you want me to come over, I'll be there... do you?"

Jack is quiet for a moment again, taking a deep, shaky breath.

"Yeah. I do."

Davey nods, though Jack can't see him.

"Okay. I want you to take a little break from writing until I get there, alright? Change into your pyjamas and have a glass of water. Try to relax a little."

"Okay... thanks Davey."

The call ends, and Davey rejoins his family while tucking his phone away in his pocket.

"I have to go." He kisses his mother on the head as he walks by. "Thanks for dinner, Ima."

"Is everything okay?" she asks, catching him gently by the elbow before he can get too far.

"Yeah..." he sighs. "Jack's just having a hard time with homework, I'm gonna go help him out."

His father ruffles his hair and gives him a quick hug.

"You're a good boy, David. Take him those leftovers— your mother's cooking can fix anything."

"For sure. I'll see you guys next weekend, and I'll try to bring Jack along then."

He waves goodbye to Sarah and Les, grabs the dish of food, and then sets off on a speed-walk to the nearest subway station.

-

Jack is sitting on the couch when he arrives, his knees pulled to his chest, looking very soft and cozy in pyjama pants and one of Davey's old hoodies from some baseball tournament. He's staring into space, and he hardly even moves to acknowledge Davey's presence when he walks in.

"Hey darling." Davey leaves the dish of food on the counter and crouches down in front of Jack to try and catch his eye-line. He carefully takes Jack's hands in his own. "Hanging in there?"

Jack finally looks at him and nods, but as he blinks, more tears slip out and roll down his cheeks.

"I'm only done two pages," he mumbles, practically whispering. "I don't know why it's so hard, but I just can't do it."

"Oh, Jackie..." Davey reaches up to wipe Jack's tears, cupping his face gently with both hands. "Hey, you still have three hours, right?" Jack nods. "That's lots of time. We're gonna figure this out... let's just sit here and calm down a little first. It's gonna be okay."

He climbs up onto the couch to pull Jack into a hug, and the moment he's settled, Jack wraps his arms around him and breaks, sobbing into his shoulder. Davey cards his fingers through his hair and rubs his back; he's never seen Jack this distraught, especially not over homework. There's a good chance the problem runs a lot deeper, and stressing over an assignment was simply the last straw.

"You're alright," Davey continues, since talking is what he does best, even in moments like this. Jack is shaking with the force of his tears, breathing so hard Davey worries he might hyperventilate. "Listen, it's just one assignment, my love... if you get a bad grade, or if we don't finish in time, we can deal with that. We'll hand in whatever we finish tonight, so at least you won't get a zero. Worst case scenario, you retake this class in the spring... even that doesn't sound so bad, does it? I know you could handle it, if that's what happens."

Jack nods a little, but his tears don't stop.

"I'm so tired of being stupid," he hiccups, after a long while. "I keep getting distracted, and I can't word things right, and I spell everything wrong, and- and maybe I should just drop out, because I'm clearly not meant to be doing this."

"Baby..." Davey sighs, giving him a gentle kiss on the temple. "You're so intelligent, Jack. You're almost done your degree— after this term, you've only got one year left, and it's not like you do poorly in your classes, is it? Even when it's something hard for you, like writing, you always do well when you put in the work. What did you get on your sociology paper a couple weeks ago?"

"Ninety percent," Jack mumbles, muffled by the way he's speaking into Davey's shoulder. "But I spent so long on it, and you edited it for me. I'm gonna fail this one. I can't do it in one night, and I can't write papers without your help."

"Well, I'm here to help now, aren't I?" He rests his hand midway through brushing it through Jack's hair and scratches his scalp gently, which makes Jack shiver and laugh quietly through his tears. "Right? And you can write, darling— all I do is fix up the spelling and grammar for you. The ideas and words are all you, just like when you give presentations and knock it out of the park every time. I sure can't do that."

Jack finally looks up at him.

"Yes you can. You get nervous beforehand, but when you do a presentation, it's always really good."

Davey smiles at him, now that they're actually looking at each other.

"It's hard for me, though. Just like writing is for you— but with lots of effort, you're really good at it. See my point?"

Slowly, a small smile spreads across Jack's teary-eyed face, and he nods. Davey feels rather accomplished with this development.

"I guess so." He wipes at his eyes and sighs. "Sorry about this. I'm such a mess."

"No apologies. I don't blame you for getting overwhelmed— you're in a tough spot here." He pulls Jack in for a quick kiss, which they both smile into. "I brought you dinner. Go heat it up when you're ready; I'll look over what you've written so far and see if I can come up with some more ideas to add on. We're gonna work together on it, okay? What painting did you choose?"

"The Martyrdom of Saint Matthew by Caravaggio," Jack sighs, looking almost forlornly at his computer on the table. "I have a lot to say about it, and lots of good stuff in my notes, but I just can't put it into paragraphs and sentences that make sense."

Davey nods, watching Jack as he stands up to go put the leftovers from Davey's family in the microwave.

"Well, I don't know anything about paintings, but if you talk me through it, I can help you put the actual paper together." He pauses as an idea dawns on him. "I'm gonna email your professor and ask about an extension— it might be a shot in the dark, but we should at least try. The worst he can do is say no."

"Sure," Jack replies from the kitchen, his voice still shaky. "He's a total hardass, though. Fingers crossed for a miracle."

Davey sits at the table, opens up Jack's email, and starts a draft.

Hi Professor Diaz,

Apologies for the short notice, but I'm wondering if it would be possible to have an extension on the analysis assignment, even if it's just by a few hours. I unfortunately mixed up some due dates in my planner, and I thought I had an extra week for this assignment; I only realized the mistake today, so I'm currently scrambling to get it done in time.

Would it be at all possible to turn it in a few hours late, just to have a bit more time to finish it up? I would really appreciate any amount of time you're willing to give me.

Thank you in advance for your understanding, Jack Kelly

He shrugs, sends it, and sincerely hopes a little professionalism and a decent (if slightly fabricated to make Jack look less forgetful) excuse will go a long way.

-

It's quarter to eleven, the paper is now five-and-a-half pages long, and Jack isn't crying anymore. He's in the zone, talking aloud about the painting while Davey helps him get his vague ideas into concrete sentences, and they're on track to have at least seven or eight pages by the time midnight rolls around— it might not get full marks, but it'll be better than nothing.

Jack's computer dings with the sound of a new email while they're taking a two-minute break— something they've interspersed every half hour, since Jack's focus is best in shorter bouts. He's in the middle of walking laps around the apartment to get his energy out and annoy his downstairs neighbours, but he scrambles back to the computer at the noise.

"We got a reply!" he shouts.

Davey is over on the couch, and he watches Jack's face closely as he opens the email. So far, so good... and then he slumps down in his chair in a show of what could either be defeat or relief. Davey can't quite tell, so he jumps up to go read it for himself.

Sure. Email it by 11:59pm tomorrow.

Sent from my iPhone

"Yes!" Davey shouts, grabbing Jack by the shoulders. "I told you it was worth a shot!"

Jack laughs, and then reaches up to pull Davey down for a kiss.

"You're the best, Jacobs. A fucking lifesaver." He rubs at his eyes, and then pushes his computer away, across the table. "I'll deal with this tomorrow. Let's just go to bed— you still have to be up early."

Right. Davey has a dreaded Saturday morning opening shift tomorrow— they open at five, and he has to be there well in advance to get set up, so he's got no chance at getting more than a few hours of sleep. He's going to be dead on his feet in the morning, probably fuck up a few coffee orders, but it'll be worth it to have helped Jack through tonight.

Poor Jack seems completely exhausted— as anyone would be after crying so hard earlier— so collapsing into bed after washing up quickly is an utter relief. Davey, despite being tall and long-limbed, greatly enjoys being the little spoon and Jack is happy to indulge him, so they curl into the familiar position.

"Thank you for everything tonight," Jack whispers, practically into Davey's ear. "I love you so much."

Davey smiles as his eyes fall shut, and he kisses Jack's knuckles softly, where his arm is wrapped around him.

"Any time, darling. I love you too."

[fandom-sheep]

Capt. Puffy and BadBoyHalo 25 APR 21

Delayed Liveblogging Red Banquet Part 1/1

I’m not mentally prepared for this

But Eret looks awesome and I’m glad they decided to ride the red armor horse.

We’re nervous too.

Also Fundy casually wearing just plain armor.

I’m dual weilding streams now.

Bads got some good music going.

I’m going to primarily watch Puffy’s POV but I’m also watching Bad because I refuse to miss anything.

Ponk and Ant are there wondering where everyone is. Everyone is watching Eret spin on a horse.

Oh Niki!

Oh Sam!

I love how some went all out and got new skins while others just, threw on some armor.

Oh. Everyone’s finally wandering in.

I’m going to mostly listen to Bad never mind. I feel listening to the most main character ish character would be smart.

Ah water. Sketchy.

This is too hospitable for my liking.

Niki seems impressed.

Everyone claiming to be 6’3” wow.

I’m still in love with the fact that Eret’s and Foolish’s outfits do match those from that one fan art.

Oh look at Fundy all dressed up.

I look away for one second and Sam is in a cauldron.

There is too much funny stuff happening for lore.

Finally making there way to the dance floor. Nice.

Bad’s end is so far behind where I am watching Puffys.

Forget it. I’ll watch Puffy’s uneless something interesting happens.

Everything does look nice.

Foolish. Please don’t make this too cursed. Please.

Thick Cider. Mhm.

*noises of disappointment in cursed lore*

Has no one met Fundy? They are surprised he robbed the outfit.

Eret so proud of her dress.

Oh wait George is here for the Lore and he is on time. Impressive.

Sam isn’t wearing pants... that is a good point. Oh off he goes.

This is just a series of insulting each other in fancy outfits. There is no lore. Only mild chaos.

Are we having a maid bit? Yep we are having a cat maid hbomb bit.

We’re just sitting her insulting one another.

Dinner! I’m also trying to add tags to this with everyone who is here and this is going to be hard.

Puffy also sitting at the head of the table. That’s probably symbolic.

Look at Foolish go... look at that totem go.

Oh look the King is speaking. Oh monarch?

Eret’s skin just looks so good. I can’t get over it.

Everyone taking turns sharing at the banquet like kids introducing themselves at the start of an event.

Oh no. Puffy is going.

Road trip plays in the background.

Oh George. Fundy cheering for being asleep.

Beat flavored soup. Wow. Free range beet. I would say that.

Who is throwing eggs? I recognize that sound effect.

Bad. You are talking yourself into a hole.

I know dramatic speeches and I did not like those pauses.

Whoa Whoa Whoa. Lava Wall.

We leaving the leaf.

HBomb is sizzling.

Oh. They planned for her plan.

This feels like a chaotic show.

WAIT HANNAH! I FORGOT THE EGG GOT HER!

No. No main event.

How many other plans are there?!?! This feels like such a strange episode.

Oh? Attempted egg splosion.

We knew that wouldn’t work after Quackity’s attempt.

Well... it was a good try.

Wait executions! There aren’t enough cannon lives here for executions.

Oh Eret! Speaking up.

You go your majesty.

He might have been the original traitor but he did get to grow.

Oh please don’t sacrifice Eret.

Oh Fundy sounds so distraught.

Oh wow Fundy and Niki saying exactly the same thing.

I do not like this.

Ah the totem has yeeted the Rolex.

Yes Lightning!

Oh they planned for that. he revealed his skills and they planned for it.

*distressed sounds*

Wow Eret is ready to die first so Foolish doesn’t have to.

And they swapped spots.

No. Quit manipulating. We don’t need another manipulation arc.

I’m getting chills from all this.

NOOOOO

Canon Life’s Lose so far: 1

Bop Bop Bop. Another one bites the dust.

Oh. Quackity.

Sup Quackity.

Eret you aren’t streaming quit blocking the view.

Go duck man go.

How did Quackity get in again? I missed that somehow?

The Rolex. Quit with the mild comedy! We’re over here crying and y’all are throwing a Rolex.

Oh no! What army.

FREAKING TECHNOBLADE!

AND THE HOUNDS!

Alright. Waiting for the dogs to come is an acceptable comedic distraction.

Techno is terrifying.

Oh Purpled. And kiddo has a nice suit.

Techno and Quackity’s fans are going to go nuts.

Look at Puffy go.

Good job gal.

Look at that hound army go.

All the cannon lives being lost.

Don’t go for him?

Oh Purpled go. That ok.

Poor Fundy sounds so stressed.

Techno in character going “IDK who that is”

Oh rats. They got out.

Another prison. Why is that our solution to everything.

Ive pulled Bad’s POV up again, but I’ve got ads.

Oh. Bad sounds sad. And his chat is spamming dream...

And he has sad music.

Everyone being an unreliable narrator here.

Oh bad boating away.

While everyone talking about containing the egg.

Oh Bad’s ending on a sad note.

People talking about plot armor. Eret has been here since Early L’manberg and he still has all cannon lives.

Well. Bad ended and everyone else is stressing.

Digging out. Everyone so done with all that.

Aww. No more parties...

Hooray Air!

Oh. Stew.

Oh Puffy honey.

Her child was killed in front of her. Killed her friends. There is a crisis.

The others dinking around just out of and just in frame aren’t helping the moment.

Oh. We lost a doggies. Sadness.

Sorry wait Puffy is doing heart hurting stuff.

Go find your boy honey.

Oh wait we’re ending.

Well... that was something.

Can someone else go live and just kinda chill on the smp out of character please? Just so there is a little less whiplash of streams ending.

Anyway. That was really good and I like all the characters being involved. Didn’t feel like anyone was too out of place between speeches and just the hanging out at the beginning.

[active-galactic-nuclei]

Rewrite Your Memories

Zuko x reader 

warnings: none except like Zuko’s tragic backstory

Inspired by the lovely @zukochi​ who gifted me this wonderful prompt!! 

You were looking for a roommate. You were broke, and you could hardly manage to pay the rent each month. As a college dropout, your career prospects weren’t looking too hot, and as a starving artist that didn’t seem like it would be changing anytime soon. So you put out an ad on craigslist. What’s the worst that could happen? If someone tried to murder you then at least you’d have a good story to tell at parties.

Zuko was looking for a house. Or an apartment. Or anywhere to stay that wasn’t the streets tonight. He had been kicked out of his dorm for “dangerous, unlawful and reckless activities.” Of course, he hadn’t meant to set his curtains on fire. It was just a mistake. They didn’t care much whether it was an accident or not. He was as good as gone as soon as his roommates walked through the door. He figured he’d just have to sleep in a crappy hotel for the night or god forbid he’d have to ask to stay with his uncle. Of course uncle Iroh would say yes, but his pride would never survive a blow like that. He was eighteen years old. He wanted to handle it by himself. He sat in his car and started searching for the places to stay.

Suddenly a message came through on your phone. An unknown number. You figured it would be just another spam text trying to sell you something, so you almost didn’t even bother reading it. Then you remembered the room listing. You’d only posted it two hours ago, surely that couldn’t be it, could it?

“Unknown number: I heard you’re renting out a room. When's the soonest I can move in?” it said. Laughing at the bluntness you quickly typed back.

“And just who are you?” you responded.

“My name’s Zuko. I need somewhere to stay asap,” he shot back quickly.

“Well if it’s really that urgent then you can come by whenever. I’m home for the rest of the day,” you offered, puzzled at his predicament. 

“Perfect. I’ll be over with all my stuff soon,” he responded. Well that wasn’t weird at all, right? Maybe you would be getting murdered after all. The universe just loved to punish you.

An hour and 35 minutes later on the dot, a knock sounded at the door. Well, time to meet your new roommate (or as you supposed, murderer… or…. both?) Dragging yourself away from the couch, you meandered warily to the door. When you opened it you were expecting a terrifying thug, or maybe a creepy old hag, or any other person that your mind coupled with the word murderer. You certainly weren’t expecting a tall, dark, handsome, young man with brooding eyes and a scar taking up half his face. Well, maybe the scar was a little more on brand with what you were envisioning… but regardless, you were more than surprised.

“I’m Zuko, and you must be Y/N right?” he asked meekly. Wonderful, his voice was gorgeous too. You were starting to wonder if the universe was cursing you in a much different way now. 

“Um yeah… That would be me,” you responded hesitantly. Why were you so awkward?

Now the universe really was cursing you.

“Great, I have my stuff with me so if you could, like, show me to my room that would be… wonderful,” he prompted. You had been so lost in his eyes you’d hardly even recognized what he’d said. You quickly snapped out of it, realizing what an idiot you looked like, and started walking toward the spare room.

“Sorry there's still some of my stuff in here. I’ll move it out by tomorrow, it's just that some of the paintings are still drying,” you told him. He started unpacking things from his suitcases and you decided to take the moment to sit down on the floor next to him.

“So uhh… What made you decide to move in with me so fast? I barely had the listing up for two hours,” you asked, trying not to push too hard and make him uncomfortable.

“It’s kind of a weird story,” he trailed off, “Are you sure you want me to tell it?” 

“I’m the master of weird stories, Zuko. Trust me, you can tell me anything,” you answered. 

“I’m um… kind of homeless I guess. I got kicked out of my dorm for uhh… setting my room on fire…” he confessed, looking embarrassed. He looked down, fearing your reaction. Would you be mad? Scared? Instead you surprised him by… laughing?

“I understand, I got kicked out of my last apartment for painting on the wall and ruining it. It was an accident, I just hadn’t realized I needed to put a tarp up. What about you? I mean… Did you mean to set the fire?” you asked. 

“If I'm telling the truth then… yeah. I guess I did. It was just a spur of the moment thing. I was just so angry I started lighting stuff on fire. I didn’t mean for it to spread to the curtains or anything though. That part was really an accident. I just didn’t notice until it was too late,” he explained. You smiled sympathetically.

“I get it. I mean, everyone makes mistakes sometimes,” you told him. “So, what do you do for a living?” you asked, laying back and resting your head on his now empty backpack. 

“I’m uhh… unemployed. I mean I’m a full time computer science student but my uncle pays for everything,” he told you.

“Your uncle pays for everything but you’re homeless? How does that work?” you asked playfully.

“I just didn’t want to bother him by asking to stay with him. I mean I know that he would say yes but… I just couldn’t do that to him after everything he’s done for me,” he sighed. “How about you, what do you do?” 

“I work at a bookstore with some of my friends. I dropped out of college last semester. It just… wasn’t what I really wanted, you know? My passion is art. I just want to make the world brighter in that way,” you explained.

“I get it. I’m studying to work with artificial intelligence. I just want to help people. If I can do that with my life… i think everything will be worth it,” he told you.

“No way, my friend Toph is studying AI too! Have you ever met her?” you asked excitedly.

“Toph Beifong? Yeah of course I know her. She’s one of the smartest people in my engineering class. The way she works with metal to build stuff… I’ve never seen anything like it,” he said.

“That’s Toph for you. She’s always talking about the newest thing she’s built when we’re working together. It’s her and I, and three of our other friends at the bookstore. Katara’s studying business, Sokka’s studying communications, and Aang is working on philosophy. Don’t ask me what he’s gonna do with that degree once he graduates, but he seems pretty happy whenever he talks about it to us,” you told Zuko. He was listening intently, hanging on every word. It seemed like he really cared. Suddenly you realized that you were in way over your head with the mysterious man. The universe was just so cruel that way.

The next day Zuko was in class. He sat next to Toph, hoping to get to know her better. In all his time in class with her, he’d never really taken the time to talk to her. To his surprise, once he got past her sarcastic and calloused exterior she was sweeter than he’d imagined. 

“Have you gotten the book we’re studying yet? The annotations are due by Sunday night,” Toph asked him.

“No I… haven’t even thought about it yet,” he confessed. 

“You should get on it or else you won’t finish on time. Why don’t you go to Katara's Books? That's where I work. Just tell them Toph sent you and they’ll give you 25% off. I mean, not like you need it, rich kid… but still, you should get it there. The money goes to my friend Katara. She owns it and she’s doing everything she can to keep it running,” Toph explained. 

‘Yeah, I'll be sure to stop by,” Zuko said, standing up to grab his things. Katara? That name sounded awfully familiar. Maybe he’d know where he’d heard it once he got there. Making his way across campus, he couldn’t get you out of his mind as he walked. 

Walking into the store he looked around, quickly finding his way to the nonfiction shelf.

“Hey, I’m Aang! Do you need help finding anything today?” came a voice from behind making him jump. He wheeled around to see a little bald kid wearing what looked to him like monk robes. Aang… now that name seemed familiar too. He told the kid, Aang, what book he was looking for. 

“Ah, I love that book! I love the part discussing the philosophy that metal is alive. It’s definitely great food for thought. It should be right… here!” he said, pulling the book off the shelf. 

“Thanks for the help… Aang,” he said, trailing off. He walked up the counter, ready to pay when he caught sight of you. Ringing up the customer in front of him. Of course that’s where he’d heard those names from, you had told him about them last night. He studied your face carefully as you smiled and laughed at the woman buying a copy of The fault in Our Stars. You looked… beautiful. He scolded himself for being creepy. He knew better than to start being vulnerable for you. 

“I can help the next guest in li- oh, Zuko! Hey!” you called out. 

“Hey Y/N, how’s it going today?” he shoots back.

“It’s good. We’ve been kind of slow so that’s been nice. Oh, I love this book! Autobiography of a Yogi is really amazing. Aang told me about it after he studied it in class. I read it after that and I loved it! I think you’ll really enjoy it,” you told him. You were so adorable when you were excited. Zuko scolded himself again. He needed to get you out of his mind. As he paid and said goodbye though, it seemed an impossible task. A spark had caught in his heart, and he knew it would soon be a raging forest fire. Uncontrollable and insurmountable, too great to ever find his way out of. As he walked back to your shared apartment, he began to realize the thought didn’t scare him nearly as much as it should have.

Walking in the door and setting your keys down, you saw Zuko on the couch. As peaceful as he looked, you needed to ask him about dinner.

“Hey, are you hungry?” you asked, setting your bag on the counter.

“Yeah, are you making dinner?” he responded. He turned around to face you.

“I was hoping you’d help out but, yeah. All I have is macaroni and cheese, is that fine with you?” you asked. 

“Yeah, I’ll get the stuff out for it,” he said, watching you put a pot of water on the stove to boil. He grabbed the milk and butter from the fridge, trying to put his anxiety to the back of his brain. He was a grown adult, it shouldn’t still scare him. He had zoned out and before he knew it, the pasta was done.

“Hey, move you dork. I need to pour this in the strainer you said. Seeing that he didn’t seem to notice you tried to move around him and pour it out anyway. Evidently, that did not go very well as you accidentally scalded his hand by pouring boiling hot water on it. He let out a yelp, sounding like a kicked puppy. Your heart sank.

“Oh my god Zuko I’m so sorry!” you apologized. You tried to grab his wrist to inspect the burn, but he snatched it away from you with a squeal and sank down against the refrigerator. You knelt down in front of him as he folded in on himself. You reached up to grab an ice pack from the freezer and handed it to him, noticing him start to cry. You sat next to him and tried to calm him down. He sounded like he was hyperventilating, which you didn’t take as a good sign. You knew a panic attack when you saw one, and this was most certainly one of them.

“Hey, calm down. It’s alright. You’re going to be okay, alright? Just breathe,” you reassured him softly. You rubbed his shoulder tenderly as you brought him back down to earth. It took a few minutes, but eventually he calmed down enough to speak.

“Hey, can you tell me what just happened, Zuko?” you asked softly, trying your best to sound reassuring.

“Panic attack… I just panicked… too much like the accident… too scary,” he blubbered almost incoherently. 

“What accident? Can you tell me what happened to you Zuko?” you pushed, trying your hardest to stay gentle. Your heart broke when he spoke up.

“My dad… when I was little… my face… he poured boiling water on my face… that’s why I have my scar… It hurt so bad, Y/N, it just reminded me of it,” he explained. You were horrified, but even more than that you were angry that someone could do that to him. To such a sweet person. To a child.

“Is he in jail? Your dad?” you asked, pushing your voice to stay flat.

“He’s… he’s gone now. Thankfully. I don’t know what I’d do if I ever had to see him again.” Zuko explained, wiping his tears on his sleeve. “I’m sorry I freaked out, I didn’t mean to…”

“No, don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault. Not at all,” you told him, holding back tears of your own. 

“So umm… you think the pasta’s still good?” he asked, a watery smile teasing on his lips. 

“Fuck the pasta,” you told him. “We’ll just order out.”

“I’d like that... “ he trailed off.

“We’ll get whatever you want, my treat,” you said, watching his face.

“Can we go eat at my uncle’s shop? He makes great tea and we’ll probably be the only ones in there,” he asked.

“Of course we can,” you told him. You got up to grab your keys, not noticing how his eyes flickered over to you with longing as you turned around.

Stepping out of your car, you looked up at the sign for the Jasmine Dragon. A quiet little tea shop by the edge of campus, sitting alone next to two closed buildings. It was cute, you thought. You were surprised you’d never been before. You walked in behind Zuko, who instantly got called up to the counter by a man you could only assume to be his uncle. You spat out an order to him and he cheerfully wrote it down and handed it to the cooks. You couldn’t believe someone so sweet could be related to a family as awful as the one Zuko had described. 

As the only ones in the shop, you got your food quickly. You eyed your soup appreciatively, thanking the server as he walked away. 

“This colour is so pretty. I need to paint something with it sometime,” you told Zuko, gesturing to the soup. 

“It reminds me of your eyes… they’re pretty too,” Zuko said, instantly kicking himself for it. You blushed as you looked up to see him looking at his food intensely, too embarrassed to look back at you.

“Thank you… You know, your eyes are pretty nice too,” you responded rather awkwardly. The universe’s vendetta for you knew no end.

As you got up to leave, Zuko stayed put. 

“I’m gonna stay here to help Uncle close up shop. I’ll be home in an hour or so,” he explained. He watched you say goodbye and walk out, making your way to the car. He walked over to the counter, vaulting over it. 

“Zuko! How’s my favourite nephew doing?” Iroh asked him, smiling as he finished drying off a glass. 

“I’m… confused. I need help, Uncle,” Zuko responded.

“It’s about that Y?N, your new roommate, isn’t it?” Zuko nodded, “I knew it. I’m always so good at reading you, Zuko.” Zuko sighed.

“I think I really like her, but I don’t know what to do. What if she thinks I’m weird or something. I don’t want to ruin us as friends,” Zuko confessed. 

“You’ve got to do what makes you happy, Zuko. If she makes you happy, tell her. If she’s really your friend she’ll understand,” Iroh told him, pulling him into a knowing hug. Zuko let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding as he sank into it. Everything always had to be so complicated. 

At home, your mind raced with thoughts of Zuko. Calling your friends, you sighed as everyone picked up.

“What am I supposed to do about Zuko?” you asked dramatically.

“You could always just kill him,” Toph offered, earning a laugh from everyone else.

“I’m serious. He's literally… perfect. I think I’m in love with him or something,” you said to her.

“Let me get this straight: you let him move into your apartment without even knowing him, he tells you he burnt down his dorm room, and now you’re in love with him? Maybe I’m just spoiled by being in love with the nicest person ever but that sounds kind of fucked up,” Katara told you. 

“Ok first of all, yes you are spoiled by being in love with Aang, but second of all yes. I know I’m an idiot but I can’t help it. You’d only understand if you were in my shoes,” you responded.

“I think you should just do it. I mean, what's the worst that could happen? He says no?” Aang said.

“No Aang, the worst he could do is be totally creeped out and move out and I never see him again,” you spat out frustratedly. 

“If that happens, I’ll yell at him in engineering for you,” Toph offered.

‘Thanks Toph, but I doubt it’ll come to that. I’ll probably just suffer dramatically until the end of time,” you lamented flopping down onto the couch to agonize about life.

When Zuko walked in, he was surprised to find you on the couch. He walked up to the sink and dumped the forgotten macaroni in the trash and rinsed out the pot. Drying his hands on his jeans, he walked over to where you were sleeping. He debated for a second before picking you up and carrying you back to your room. He set you down in bed and turned off the lights in the hallway. He took note of the stacked canvases in the corner, and saw the painting still drying on top. A boy with half of his face obscured by a deep red scar stared back at him. It couldn’t be meant to be him, could it? Surely he wasn’t that beautiful in your eyes, was he?

Waking up the next morning you were confused. You had fallen asleep on the couch talking to Katara. Why were you in your bedroom? Had…. had Zuko brought you in here last night when he came home? Your heart sped up at the thought. He must have, right? As you got dressed and walked into the empty living room, you couldn’t get the thought out of your head. Zuko was already long gone, the crazy morning person that he was. It was your day off, and you knew it was Sokka’s too, so you decided to call him. 

“Hey, do you wanna go get coffee or something today?” you asked him when he picked up the phone. 

“Of course, dork. Meet me at the coffee house by the campus library in half an hour,” he responded. You smiled as you hung up the phone and went to go get ready. 

Half an hour later and you were walking into the coffee house to see Sokka sitting at a table in the corner. You sat down across from him to see your favourite drink already sitting in front of you. Taking a sip, Sokka piped up.

“So about this Zuko character, I know you really like him. Tell me more about him,” he told you, punctuating the sentence with a smile that you couldn’t resist.

“He’s so gorgeous, Sokka. Plus, he’s the sweetest guy I’ve ever met. Aside from you and Aang. But seriously, he’s amazing. I painted a picture of him last night while I was on the phone and it was just Katara. He has the most paintable face. I just want to get lost in it,” you rambled on. He was starting to overtake your mind, you couldn’t get him out of your brain.

“Look, I’m just saying. If he’s that great, you should just tell him you feel. If anything else, you know I’ll kill him if he breaks your heart,” offered Sokka. 

“Good luck,” you laughed, “He’s been training in Tae Kwon Do since he was a baby,” you replied. Sokka groaned, smirking as you laughed at him. You took a sip from your coffee mug. Things were always so complicated.

Walking back into the apartment, you saw all the lights were turned off. That was… strange. Zuko should have been home by now. Maybe he was sleeping? You walked with light footsteps down the hall, making your way towards Zuko’s room. Seeing his door cracked open, you decided to go in and check on him. You found him sitting in the dark, holding a lighter. A little silver Zippo he was using to pass over the ends of his fingertips, and holding to his palm. He looked lost in thought as he watched the flames dance across his skin.

“Zuko… are you ok?” he whispered trying not to disturb him too much. He flinched and dropped the lighter onto the carpet, wheeling around to face you.

“You scared me, I didn’t even hear you come in,” he told you.

“Sorry I just… didn’t want to make too much noise in case you were sleeping or something. Anyway, what were you doing?” you asked.

“Oh I was just messing with my lighter. You know, typical pyromaniac behavior,” he smirked.

“I knew you were an amateur arsonist, but I didn't peg you as the masochist type,” you giggled. 

“It’s just in my blood I guess. I’ve always been fascinated by fire as long as I can remember. So was my sister, and my parents, and my cousin. My uncle is too. I guess that’s just how it goes with us,” he revealed.

“I didn’t know you had a sister. I’m assuming she uhh… wasn’t the best?” you said knowingly.

“She was sick in the head. It wasn’t her fault. An upbringing like we had would make anyone crazy. She’s in a mental hospital now. I still visit her sometimes but… not as much as I used to. It’s just hard to see her like that. It just reminds me too much of my mom,” he confessed.

“Is that… bad?” you asked, trying hard not to sound rude.

“I loved my mom, she was the best part of my life when she was in it. After my dad disowned me and kicked her out though… it’s just too hard to think about…” he trailed off, his voice cracking with a sob at the end. 

“I’m so sorry, Zuko. I can’t imagine how you feel,” you responded, pulling him into your chest as his body shook with sobs. You held him as he let out strangled sobs, and you stayed like that until his breathing evened out. 

“We’re gonna get through this. We can rewrite your memories together,” you told him.

The next morning as you clocked into work, you couldn’t stop thinking about the night before. The way he’d been so vulnerable with you. You had grown so fond. It was impossible to stop your heart from racing every time you thought about him. Walking over to where everyone else stood sorting through books, you sighed.

“I need to do something about Zuko. I can’t keep thinking about him like this. It’s all I can think about,” you said, punctuated with a groan.

“Ok well, your only options are to either tell him or die miserable and alone. I don’t know about you, but I would take the first option,” Sokka told you, turning around to face you. 

“Seriously. I know Toph isn’t here but I’m sure she’d agree: we all want you to be happy. The only way that’ll happen is if you just tell him how you feel,” Katara remarked. 

“I guess you’re right. But what if he thinks I’m creepy or something?” you asked self consciously. 

“Y/N, you’re gorgeous. Zuko would be lucky to have someone like you. Trust me, if he says no he’s delusional,” Katara responded. 

“I think I’ll tell him tonight and get it over with,” you stated. 

“Finally! I’m sure it’ll go well,” Aang told you, smiling from behind the book he was occupied with.

Zuko couldn’t believe he’d been so stupid to be so vulnerable with you last night. Once was more than enough, but twice? You had such an effect on him. It was like he could really be himself around you. It was the first time he’d ever felt that way, and he knew he’d have to capitalize on it. He knew he had to tell you how he felt. He sat down next to Toph, as had become his routine in class everyday.

“Toph, I need to ask you something,” he said, setting down his backpack.

“If you’re going to ask me on a date, just know that I’d rather kiss Momo,” she said, motioning to the dopey eyed guide dog that sat at her feet.

“No, it’s about Y/N. It's just… they make me feel so different. I’ve never felt the way I feel about them,” Zuko confessed.

“Happiness. You’re describing happiness,” Toph replied sarcastically.

“Yeah, I guess I am. I guess what i'm asking is… would you be alright with me asking her out?” he asked.

“Of course, idiot. As long as you don’t break her heart. Then I’ll have no choice but to kill you,” Toph said, raising her eyebrow. Zuko shuddered. If there was anyone he was truly scared of, it was Toph Beifong. 

Sitting on the couch, you turned your head at the sound of a key turning in the door. You smiled inwardly when you saw Zuko’s face emerge from the door frame. 

“How was class?” you asked him.

“It was… good,” he responded, walking over to you, “I uhh… really need to tell you something,” he said meekly. 

“What’s up?” you asked as he sat down on the couch next to you.

“I just… you’re the first person that’s made me feel loved in so long. You’re always so happy to see me, and you always know just what to say, and you’re so gorgeous, and you have the most beautiful laugh and… I guess what I’m trying to say is… I really really like you, Y/N,” he confessed. He had no idea what to expect but he certainly hadn’t expected you to… laugh? 

‘I know, Zuko,” you giggled, cutting him off with a kiss. He was taken aback, but he relaxed into it before you pulled away, keeping your hand on his cheek.

“How did you know?” he asked, breathless.

“You think Toph can keep a secret? Of course she told me,” you smiled.

“Of course she did,” he laughed, pulling you in for another kiss, “So, can I call us official?” he asked. 

“Of course, my love,” you told him, sinking into his arms. 

[crusadercap]

hokay, I think I’m finally done with the reblogs for now, and it only took the whole ass day. with a couple hours dinner break ofc but still. feel like I went through most of my likes from the past month or two, and I’m not sure I wanna dig further rn lol. but most of the art related fnf stuff I had in there should be reblogged now, not all of them, but most. also might have missed something idk I’m tired either way now hopefully I can just keep reblogging shit when I see something I like and not just stow it away and forget about it only to mass reblog once ever 3 months or so if ever again lol anyways guess we’ll see how it goes, fingers crossed there’ll be no more spam at least ha

[douchebagbrainwaves]

EVERY FOUNDER SHOULD KNOW ABOUT STRATEGY

To an amoral person it might seem to be overkill. The reason tablets are going to get rich, because if there is big potential for gain there must also be a terrifying possibility of loss.1 How could you make a conscious effort to find smart friends. Lisp, so much the better. If VCs are only doing it in the hope of gain, but the people. You don't have to be at full power; the pilot has to be for multiple millions of dollars just for being clever. Even we were affected by the conventional wisdom. And what do they have to go through a series of historical accidents the teaching of writing was inherited by English professors. I saw. A group of 10 people within a large organization is compelled by its structure to be one.

And probably the only people who can manage that are the people they want as employees. Representational art is only now recovering from the approval of both Hitler and Stalin. After developing their new search algorithm, the first thing they tried was to get some other company to buy it. Here parents' desires conflict. If parents told their kids the truth about it.2 Now that the cost of failure to increase the number of sufficiently good founders starting companies, and that the best strategy is simply to state the opposing case, with little or no supporting evidence. One way to put it is to take advantage of one another, you're better off learning it last.3 You have to produce something. But fortunately there are still some countries that are not copyright colonies of the US, and even so I didn't get to macros until page 160. It was not till we were in our twenties that the truth came out: my sister, then about three, had accidentally stepped on the cat and broken its back.

I'm not saying that struggles are never about ideas, just that you're a sufficiently good bet. Yes, he may have extensive business experience. Relief. It won't get you a job, as if the important thing were becoming a member of a certain size has gone through legal contortions to get programmers for the same price? Near the top is the company run by techno-weenies who are obsessed with solving interesting technical problems, but I smelled a major rat. In some fields it might be a better plan than the old one. There's a rule of thumb in the VC business. Small companies are more at home in this world, because they may have useful insights.4 But a programmer deciding between a regular job at a big company, but it looks like most of what you gain from the work experience employers consider so desirable. But if you want to make a billion dollars a year, then on average you must be contributing at least x dollars a year worth of work, like acting or writing books, you can't fly into the wind without losing a lot of time trying to master. Their reputation with programmers more than anything else they've ever done. At some firms it's over 50%.

But I don't expect that to change.5 If you looked in people's heads or stock photo collections for images representing business, you'd get images of people dressed up in suits, groups sitting around conference tables looking serious, Powerpoint presentations, people producing thick reports for one another to read. A lot of VCs would have rejected Microsoft.6 Robert and I both knew Lisp well, and nothing changes slower. Don't believe what you're supposed to now, how can you be sure you wouldn't also have believed everything you were supposed to if you had grown up among the plantation owners of the pre-Civil War South, or in a novel? Afterwards I realized it could be that the Europeans rode on the crest of a powerful macro, and say there! Refutation.

The world is—and you specifically are—one pristine old car the richer. But you can do anything if you really try. Early union leaders were heroic, certainly, but we couldn't figure out how to give them what they want. This essay is derived from a talk given at the 2001 Franz Developer Symposium. I couldn't imagine why there should be more variability in the VC business were established when founders needed investors more. If it were simply a group of a thousand people, the average rower is likely to be business school classes on entrepreneurship, as they do now, and we've seen a bunch of startups die. Who knows exactly how these factors combine to boost startups in Silicon Valley. This turns out to be hard, partly because it's hard to say exactly what. The ideas start to get far along the track toward an offer with one firm, it will help them to see through intellectually dishonest arguments.

But this becomes rapidly less true as you move away from the certainty of the hard sciences.7 But how do you pick the right platforms? When wealth is talked about in this context, it is in other industries. Or how about Perl 4?8 Starting or joining a startup is going to succeed. But if you tell a kid, they can make money buying less than 20% of each series A company to compensate for a 2x decrease in the stock sold in series A rounds are not determined by asking what would be best for the companies. A restaurant can afford to serve the occasional burnt dinner.9

Notes

But on the way to solve are random, the best case. A investor has a spam probabilty of. So if they were only partly joking. Stiglitz, Joseph.

As one very smooth founder who used to build consumer electronics. It's not simply a function of the reasons startups are now the founder of the things they've tried on the blades may work for us.

If you want to start businesses to use an OS that doesn't exist. Greek philosophers before Plato wrote in order to switch the operating system so much worse than close supervision by someone else to lend to, but a lot of the Web was closely tied to the next Apple, maybe the corp dev is to talk about startups. A YC partner can estimate a market price, and as a monitor. That may require asking, because the kind that prevents you from starving.

Some introductions to philosophy now take the hit. As usual the popular vote. Since we're not.

7 reports that in 1995, but its value was as much income. Whereas the value of understanding per se but from what the editors will have to resort to in the room, you need.

Most of the businesses they work. Google search engines and there didn't seem to have lunch at the lack of movement between companies combined with self-perpetuating if they miss just a Judeo-Christian concept; it's roughly correct to say that the http requests are indistinguishable from those of popular Web browsers, including salary, bonus, stock grants, and I don't think you could get all the page-generating templates are still called the option of deferring to a degree, to drive the old one. In fact, for example, to a study by the Corporate Library, the group of picky friends who proofread almost everything I write. Sparse Binary Polynomial Hash Message Filtering and The CRM114 Discriminator.

The founders we fund used to build little Web appliances. There are two very different types of studies, studies of returns from startup investing, but the distribution of alms, and that often creates a rationalization for doing it with superficial decorations. Joshua Schachter tells me it was more because they will come at an ever increasing rate to impress investors. They did try to be a big company, though more polite, was one in its IRC channel: don't allow the same price as the face of a startup to an employer hired men based on revenues of 1.

By all means crack down on these.

If a bunch of actual adults suddenly found themselves trapped in high school, because they can't afford to. So far, I should add that we're not professional negotiators, and wisdom the judgement to know about this from personal experience than anyone, writes: True, Gore won the popular vote.

[littlemeowyoons]

Bonded

A/N- It’s my first time posting my writing on Tumblr but I guess better late than never huh, so here you go. More is in work so please anticipate a lot.

~Fay

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Fluff(lots of them), a drop of angst, Single Dad! AU, College! AU, Introvert! Yoongi, Tutor! Y/n

Word Count:1.7k

Synopsis: Yoongi found a basket left in front of his dorm room one day, and turns out it was his daughter, left alone crying. Puzzled and scared was an understatement. When his 4 semesters roommate Jimin left for his hometown, he was left with the last straw of help, turning to his physics tutor a.k.a friend-that-I-only-know-name-but-have-no-interest-in-knowing-more ; you.

Series: Masterlist ll Part 2 lI Part 3

                                           Part 1: Distress

                                            °•. ✿ .•°

“Why own a fucking iPhone when you can’t even answer a fucking call?! Dammit!”, he breathed hard after his nth tempt to connect the line failed again, his own Samsung device was clutched tightly in hand, knuckles turning white from the pressure. Yoongi had reached that point where smashing the black covered device in hand to the wall was considered a bliss, but he was saint enough to convince himself otherwise. Not when his phone was his gateway out of this mess; the only way maybe. So he tried again; redialing the numbers, manually even.

 “I swear I’ll shred your trench coat to pieces, fucking im-“

The end of the line connected midway his constant ranting.

“Oh thank God above you finally answered! What took you so long?”

“Ever heard of Bio lecture Yoongi?”, the soft voice at the receiving end answers calmly, though Yoongi knew the person was beyond annoyed.

 Who wouldn’t? Multiple spam in all form of communication, texts, kakaotalk, Instagram dm; at this point, Yoongi wanted to settle down to those damn pigeons. Even Yoongi would be out of his head if it happen to him, not that it will happen in the near future or anything.

“Don’t outsmart me woman, I’m not in the mood.”

“What is it Yoongi? You know I have class at this time of the day”

“I need your help”, his breath came out breathless than ever.

“Fuck if you’re asking about the same kinetic and potential energy chapter, I’m gonna rip all my nonexistent and existent  hair out of my-“

“Please…”

                                        ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ:⠀ ⋆.:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ☾

You swear it took you everything not to scream out of frustration watching your phone blow off during lecture period. Plus, the same ID that keeps popping up on the lock screen adds the bitter taste. Once your professor said the word ‘thank-‘, you were already making your way out of the hall, books not even properly shoved in bag and you were sure you left your favourite baby blue Sharpie highlighter behind.

Once in the hallway, you yanked your phone out of your sling bag and slide the screen harshly, already embracing yourself for the upcoming questions and constant groaning. What you did not expect is the person on the other side panting heavily, desperate. Yoongi sounds…distress.You were still processing his jumbled words but once the word ‘please’ escaped his mouth, you froze.

That word is so rare to even pass-through Yoongi’s head, what less say it. The last time you remembered the word ever exist in his sentence, was the day he consulted you at the cafeteria. Head down, full frown and shoulder slumped was some few giveaway you could collect which equals to one thing; failed test.

You were used to people asking you questions, since you were one of the few alphas in curriculum areas. But having Yoongi, the junior of Art and Music Department, Majoring in Music Production asking you to be a full-time physics tutor is…well, unexpected. You pity him, that poor boy seems like he couldn’t breathe for goodness sake, not until you lean back to your metal seats and smile softly, not forgetting to nod along while you utter the word that Yoongi seems dread to hear, ‘Sure, when?’

You swear his eyes shine like a good measure 60 watts light bulb. But that was long time ago, you lost track how long it was though you were sure it won’t be more than a year now, hearing that Yoongi is in serious problem was the main pushover to your muscle cells.

The thing is Yoongi never beg, ever. He never sounds that desperate even when he got 5 per cent on his last two physics quiz, he never sounds this discomfort.

“I’ll be there in five”.

                                          ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ:⠀ ⋆.:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ☾

You almost lost a footing while climbing the stairs up the boys’ dormitory, but you didn’t stall behind. Once room 103 is in front of you, you proceed to reach out to knock, when you heard an infant’s cry. You froze, chest rising in rapid beat from all the runnings.

“Yoongi?”

The crying was still there, you glance to check the neighbouring room number on the door, confirming that the room in front of you indeed belongs to Yoongi. So you crossed your heart and decided to knock, after all, you go with the concept YOLO. The door opened to reveal a hopelessly in despair Yoongi and a small woven basket on his dinner table, the moving mauve blanket shows that he wasn’t alone in the room, physically anyway.

Though the facts were right in front of your eyes, your mouth was sealed from emitting any word, what less sounds. You just stand there, at his doorstep, mouth agape. The cried were getting louder and the small tiny hands rising from the woven basket was doing nothing other than deepening the frown on Yoongi’s forehead.

“Come on Y/n, say something…”

Once his words registered in yourself, you took a last glance to Yoongi, before backing away into the hallway and sprint off.

“I need to go.”

“Y/n wait!”

No no no, this is bad. He thought Y/n would be different, thought she’ll understand but turns out, she ran away.

“Just…just like Hyoju.”, Yoongi whispers.

The cries from behind him gets louder and he snapped to look at the one sole thing that currently gives him a headache.

“Can you fucking shut it?!”

Yoongi growled but then retracted away from the dining table, against the wall and sliding down on his back until he reaches the floor. A sudden seed of fear bloom in his chest,

“What am I doing, am I already out of my mind? He’s just a baby, what does he even know?”, Yoongi sigh while standing and dragged himself to the basket, brushing along his slender fingers through the baby’s thin hair; his baby. The living being right in front of him is his own making, an act done without even considering about the effect. In this case, Yoongi can admit that he’s one of the few to be blame, maybe THE ONE to be blamed, fuck he was so drunk that night he can barely remember her, the mother of his child, Han Hyoju

The baby’s crying subsided a little as soon as Yoongi’s fingers make contact with the head, as if the touch of a 10-minutes-ago-newly known-father is proof that it’s safe for the little one.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what to do”, he whispered because it was a fact.

Yoongi was never a fan of kids, he was never a person-type, a typical signs of an introvert. His only source of never-ending help support is none other than his roommate, Dance Major Park Jimin. He helps Yoongi realize that age is just numbers, Yoongi; as a hyung, two years older, seeks more advice than he wants to admit. This whole two years living with Jimin, the topic of conversation never goes off if it didn’t start with Jimin encouraging Yoongi to get some sunlight on him to which Jimin always said, as Yoongi quoted “We don’t need a walking paperwhite corpse walking around campus, hyung. Go out and get some air would you?”.

 It’s just that Jimin’s happy go lucky trait as well as his naturally warm smile is enough to blooms a friendship unlike Yoongi, who people would just point fingers at and said ‘cold, harsh and rock dead’ just by a mere look. Jimin don’t, however. That’s how Yoongi opened up a little to him. But now, that said roommate can’t help him, being on the other side of Korea, back in Busan his hometown for four days(though Yoongi doubt he won’t prolong it) limits Yoongi to ask for any favour to his friend. The kid in front of him will die of thirst first if he waits for Jimin. That’s what left him to his other only friend; Y/L/N Y/N.

But Yoongi could understand what you did, how you act. It’s because both Yoongi and you didn’t share more than three sentences, or on some lucky days short bickering outside of your tutoring hour. He only knows the basic things for someone to be an acquaintance; name, major and room number(because it slipped your mouth once when texting your roommate), but other than that, zero-knowledge. Jimin insisted that he asked more, to what Yoongi always dismiss, he’s too shy or scared, or maybe both.

Though Yoongi knew so much, he still labels you as a friend, which means a name listed in his life whereabouts, significant enough for him, not a nobody. He wanted to smile thinking that you’re indeed a friend to him, but it falters upon remembering you retreated away.

“I’m doomed…”

A sudden burst of the door jolted Yoongi, retracting his hand that once was playing with the baby hairs on his child’s head. You walk in, head high and face determined. You dropped off your school bag by the sofa, the usual place when you hang around Yoongi’s room after tutor session. Yoongi was overwhelmed, all his senses went numb, why did you return?

“Yoongi, does the baby comes with a bag, a pouch, anything other than the basket?”, you already made your way into the kitchen, but Yoongi still got a perfect view of your side profile from where he’s standing.

“Umm-“, Yoongi snapped out of his short trance and reached out for the mustard yellow beg that was originally in the same basket as his child when he first opens his door this morning, “Is this it?”

You glance over to him and nod, motioning him to hand it over. Once the bag is in your hand, you unzip it and pull out a baby bottle. Yoongi just watched in awe as you mixed baby formula, Yoongi assumed the grey paper bag you brought with you contained the powder formulae. He knows he shouldn’t be gawking like that, but he’s completely amazed, the fact that you came back had him racked his brain for a reason why, and now you’re going through all of this just to feed his kid. He felt small. Once the formula milk was done, you walked towards the living room and straight to the dining table, where the baby is. The red face of the baby shows just how long it had been crying.

‘Poor thing.’,  you thought. You put down the baby bottle on the table, hands reached out to swoop out the crying baby and puts the nuzzle near the mouth. After some effort, the baby takes in the nuzzle into his mouth and right away the rooms fell into a deep silence.

“Aww you poor thing, starving huh? It’s okay it’s okay. I got you.”,  you cooed.

Yoongi stood there dumbly, watching you feeding his own child, still confused but for sure, extremely grateful. Now if only explaining is easy enough.

[mercuryriver]

Interlude pt 2.5

Part 1  Part 2

Word Count: 1611

Genre: Angst 

Summary: A little insight into what Steve is thinking 

Pairing: Steve x reader

It had been a whole week since you left, and Steve was determined to at least find you. He already spent the first day in your room, hoping that you would change your mind and come walking through that door and he could throw himself at your feet and beg for forgiveness. The second day was spent pretty much doing the same but also spamming your phone with calls and messages, asking you to come back, apologizing, asking you to give him another shot. He knew that you wouldn’t want to see him, but he wanted to know that you were okay. You’d taken off with the duffel bag full of your clothes and some personal trinkets, telling Tony that you needed a break. Tony would have sent the entire iron legion out to find you if he didn’t know where you were, and Wanda and Nat also weren’t worrying, so Steve had spent the third day trying to convince them to tell him where you were so he could make sure you were safe. Of course, they had to respect your space and not tell him, but Steve could see the guilt when Wanda denied him. He tried looking for you at all your old haunts, your old apartment before you moved in to the compound, hotels, Strange’s headquarters, the diner, etc. No luck. Were you even in the country? The same planet? The same realm? He cursed the fact that you had completely disappeared off the face of the Earth. 

He was going to try and get some answers. He head into your bathroom to shower, opting to use your shampoo while he was at it. He really missed you. All he could feel while you were gone was heart wrenching pain and guilt. He tried convincing himself that he deserved this, considering he had promised that he wouldn’t let you down this time, but he did, and now you were gone. What if you decided to retire? What about the mission you had wanted to go on the next month? The one that Bucky had asked you to come with along with Steve and Sam to one of Hydra’s bases? If you came, would you even want to talk to him? 

He shook his head to clear the cloud of doubt in his head, something he had picked up  from you. He wasn’t just going to wait to find out. He should find you. He sighed. Every time he thought of you, his heart ached, and honestly, it was difficult to stop thinking about you. He didn’t realize the impact you had on his life until now. Usually, if he was feeling down, it didn’t take long for you to find him in your room, laying in your bed and hugging your pillows before you joined him, spooning him from the back even though you looked like a ridiculously tiny backpack on the back of his giant frame. If he slept past dinner, usually you’d either wake him up or save him some dinner. It was cliche, but the bed was so much colder with you gone.

He got changed into a shirt and jeans before walking out of your room before he caught a whiff of something familiar, and warm, and comforting. His heart rate picked up and Steve practically sprinted to the living room before he found Bucky curled up on the couch, his hair tied up into short tail as he bit into a chocolate muffin, watching two teens crying in a hospital. 

“ Buck?” Steve whispered and Bucky shot up, knocking a whole paper bag off his stomach and onto the floor, a couple of muffins rolling out on the ground. 

“ Steve, I can explain. Parker told me to watch this movie- Steve hadn’t even noticed Bucky was tearing from watching the movie. He was merely staring at the two gigantic muffins larger than his entire fist that had rolled out from the paper bag. You’d baked muffins for him before, and it smelled exactly like that. And you’d always made them bigger because Bucky and Steve could wolf down the muffins like they were nothing. No matter how much Steve told you that you didn’t have to since muffins were unhealthy, it never stopped you from making them, and it didn’t stop him from scarfing them down. 

“ Bucky where did you get those?” Steve whispered. Bucky paused the movie, reaching down to pick up the muffins and place them back in the paperbag. 

“ I got them at the cafe downstairs. They’re really fucking good,” Bucky smiled, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. Steve could tell that Bucky was lying, and Bucky knew that Steve knew. It was undeniable that Bucky had gotten them from you. And that means Bucky either knew where you were, or that Bucky still had some way of contacting you. The fact that you’d still be willing to let Bucky into your life but not Steve, it stung and Steve wanted to lie on your back and fold himself up and just pretend that none of this had happened. It felt like ever since you left, someone had left a vice on his heart, tightening it every time he thought of you. 

Steve just nodded before he forced a smile at his best friend. You and Bucky had been close, and he completely understood that you couldn’t sever your ties to Bucky, and that you wouldn’t be cruel enough to make Bucky choose between you and Steve.

“ Is she doing okay?” Steve whispered, wringing his hands together as he sat down next to Bucky on the couch, staring at the paper bag of muffins. Bucky let out a long sigh, stuffing the remainder of his muffin in his mouth, just so he’d have time to consider what he was going to say as he wiped the tears from his face. Of course you missed him, in fact you’d looked like you hadn’t gotten enough sleep in a long while, but you hadn’t wanted Steve to know. You didn’t say anything to Bucky about Steve or when you’d be back, you hadn’t asked about him either. It was only right he didn’t ask you either. 

“ She’s coping,” Bucky finally sighed, glancing at Steve every now and then nervously. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked to bring so many muffins home. Steve didn’t say anything, his glacier blue eyes fixed on the bag of muffins in front of him. Bucky frowned, turning the tv off and turning to face his best friend, pulling Steve’s shoulder so he’d face him. 

“ Look, you can’t just keep moping around like this, it’s not like you,” Bucky frowned. “ You need to get up off your ass, and do something.” He could barely hear the last part as Steve groaned and threw his hands up in the air. 

“ I can’t! I just can’t Buck,” Steve got up, kicking the couch back. “ I try to work and I think about how I pushed her away because of work. I don’t work and well… I don’t exactly have a lot to do.” Steve shrugged before running a hand through his hair, frustrated. He did everything with you. You’d brought him to museums, brought him to art galleries and libraries to do research and catch up on the time that had passed. You had brought him to the movies and introduced him back into the world. In fact, Bucky reconnecting with Steve had been made easier as Bucky told you more about Steve in the past, and you’d told Bucky what he was like now. You had made everything so much easier for him. He couldn’t do anything without thinking about you. 

“ Then find something new to do! Get a dog, get a cat, maybe even get a fucking hamster if that’s what you want but you can’t just keep lazing around back home like this. If Y/n were here she’d think you’re being ridiculous,” Bucky frowned, getting up and snatching up the muffins and bringing them to the kitchen. Steve groaned again before clawing at his face. 

“ Well she’s not here, is she?” Steve growled, the deep sound reverberating in his chest as he glared at his best friend. Bucky rolled his eyes before scoffing. He knew that Steve was practically harmless to him. No doubt, Steve could beat him up if he wanted to, but he knew Steve wouldn’t. He just missed you a lot. 

“ No, she’s not. And can you do anything?” Bucky slammed the fridge shut before taking out a jug of orange juice. “ Face it pal, you fucked up, Y/n left, but she’s going to come back, eventually, but she’ll come back. So are you just going to keep sulking or are you actually going to get shit done so you can spend time with her when she comes back?” Steve sat on the bar stool, still glaring at Bucky. The only reason he was mad at Bucky was because he was right. There wasn’t anything he could do now. You weren’t here now, and he had already messed up and there wasn’t much he could do. You didn’t want to be found, which meant he probably won’t be able to find you even if he tried. The only thing he could do now was wait for you to come home, and get work done. If you didn’t want him always working when you were around, why should he stop when you were gone, only to continue again when you were back? He had to keep going, but the only thing that would keep him going was hoping that one day, you’d come back.

[writingdotcoffee]

#118: A Friendly Reminder

I get on the tube at my local station just after breakfast. I change to a train and then another one. The damp English countryside as it usually is in November passes by outside the window. I have a quick lunch at the airport before boarding a flight at two o’clock. We land two hours later, and I get into a car to drive the final part of the journey to my destination. I eat dinner with my relatives overseas at seven – about eight hours after leaving home.

This is a typical journey that I take when going on holiday. I’m on holiday right now, as a matter of fact, taking some time away from the hustle and bustle of London. I intend to spend it with family, catching up with everyone and having many a large meal together.

London isn’t quite as hectic as New York City, but it does run at a much higher pace than where I grew up. Usually, I enjoy the higher speed. I don’t even mind the crowds that much. Seeing everyone go about their day with dogged determination can be infectious. But every now and then, I need a break from it all. I need to spend time away so that I can appreciate what I have and see beyond the little annoyances of everyday life.

However, it wasn’t always like that. I used to feel terrible about taking time off. I kept checking my phone for work-related notifications. While everybody else kept ploughing ahead, I felt like was falling further and further behind. Doing fun things produced this low-key stress at the back of my mind. That was, of course, the worst of both worlds.

Pushing yourself too much leads to burnout. A particularly bad one might take you out for months at a time. First, you’ll have shit time working on your project, then you’ll be in a slump. In the end, you’ll get far less done than if you took things easy and enjoyed the ride. The math isn’t too complicated.

You can grind out 1667 words per day for a month and spend the rest of the year recovering. Or you can write leisurely 250 words per day for 11 months and take four weeks off. In the first scenario, you’ll end up with about 50,000 words. In the latter one, you’ll have written a total of 84,000.

The tortoise will indeed beat the hare. In fact, it will dominate and then take four weeks off just to taunt its cute furry friend. Sneaky little lizard.

Anyway, this is your friendly reminder that when the oxygen masks drop from the panel above your head, you need to put on your own mask first. Your art won’t work unless you do.

What I Am Reading

I’m still on Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? by Philip K. Dick. I’m enjoying it more and more the further I get. When doing the dishes and such, I listen to The Testaments by Margaret Atwood. I’ve also discovered a fascinating podcast series from the BBC co-authored by Jamie Bartlett about the biggest cryptocurrency scam to date. I’m planning to listen to that as well.

What are you reading at the moment?

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Past Editions

#117: What’s Good Enough?, November 2019

#116: The Prolific Life, November 2019

#115: Secret Project Update, November 2019

#114: Writing and Stress, November 2019

#113: Is It Worth It?, October 2019

[whats-the-story-tc]

31st of January, 2020

"The One Where Atlas Stumbles"

[LONG POST WARNING]

Another day, another flannel.

Dreaming with her the second night in a row, I really bloody hoped they hadn't changed the supervising schedule and I'd see her when I come in. And I did. What with my impending two-hour rehearsal instead of my first two classes, Debate Friend and Art Friend being outside and just plainly the sight of V, I was way too giddy. Teasing Debate Friend about me and Art Friend not having to suffer in Physics, making jokes, laughing way too loud. I noticed V turning in our direction, I think I might even have seen her watching us.

As we leave, Debate Friend to class and us to look for the always late A, we pass V and I flash her my biggest smile to greet her. Art Friend and I are back soon enough, chatting, and I tell her "Something always happens when I'm having a good morning." This time it's V passing us. There is something gentle about the way she looks at me. You know that particular look on someone's face when they aren't smiling, but they still look happy? Content is the word for it, maybe. That's the look. Oh, how I wish I wasn't right about what I said...

Break between rehearsals, I'm outside chatting to my friends, most of them about to have class with the new (foreign) English teacher. Bookworm Friend is gushing, what if he's young and just out of college (either of which he isn't), cuz then she's gonna be really good at English. I automatically tell her "he's a whole ass adult and you're a minor, you can't do that" before I realise what I just said basically contradicts what I call my current love life. "Though I am one to speak" I add frowning, and everyone laughs. I really am a bloody clown, aren't I?

English with V, in the very same classroom where I spent two hours crossing my arms, yelling at and threatening one of the boys in my year (that's my character, don't be scared), and falling on my knees over and over again until we got the scene right. V is quite visibly a little worn down, still in the process of finishing what I assume was probably coffee, but powering through class. Metaphors, synesthesia, symbols and the such, what they are and how they work grammatically. After spending two hours the previous night deciphering Biblical parables and breaking them down to metaphors and meanings for a test we didn't even write, I felt ready.

Cynical Twat has his finger bandaged, I think he cut it or something, and thus he can't write. V asks him about it, and when he tells her all that, she's just like "Well, I was never allowed [not to write]." in this half surprised, half jealous kind of way.

The words for pigeon and dove are interchangeable in my mother tounge, as the actual word for dove is quite outdated. And although the metaphor was about a dove, V specified "When we call someone a pigeon, we don't mean that they smell and spread diseases." At the end of class, when somebody asked her how specific we will need to get about recognising these things in writing, she mentioned we will need to know which example is a metaphor or which one is, for example, a symbol, and added "but you will only need to know the exact subtype if you're preparing for an A level", and briefly glanced straight at me before taking a sip of her coffee. I smiled. Challenge accepted.

First lunch break, two people from the other class are rushing towards me the moment they see me, to ask for my Literature textbook. V told them if anyone doesn't have theirs, they're going to have to answer some questions for a grade. Me being me, I gave it to them because, as I told Pocketwatch Friend, "I love V to bits, but I wouldn't want anyone having to answer the questions she asks." Got my book back the next lunch break, as they forgot everyone's having homeroom, and getting their first term report cards.

V and I have a bit of a similar way of walking—long and fast strides, shoulders straight, head held high—so it was a bit funny, both of us heading towards the same door from opposite ends of the corridor. (Though I only really walk like this when I'm confident in myself. It's funny, apparently I do it often enough for it to be noticeable, cuz admittedly, V recognises this walk of mine. It's something she told me at the end of last year, when she mistook someone on the street for me, but realised our hairs were different and that I walk differently.)

As I'm sat in my usual place, head on Pocketwatch Friend's shoulder as I was really tired, I notice that there is something off about V as she's typing away on her laptop. I couldn't exactly pinpoint what, but I felt that something wasn't quite right. The feeling further strengthened when she started the lesson, and I saw her eyes. They looked years older than they did merely three hours before. There was this... deep-rooted exhaustion and sorrow in them, and at first glance, I thought she had cried. She did smile a couple times as far as I remember, and by the end of the lesson, when she showed us some romanticism-period music and art, and we all cracked up on how the cable connecting our projector to her laptop constantly malfunctioned and kept colouring everything to pink, she seemed to be in a lot better mood. That's something I noticed about her in the past two months or so, that she's usually a bit off when she starts class with us, but by the end of it, she's much more calm and feeling better. Not to brag, but I think she likes being with us.

On my way out, as she was telling everyone to put their chairs up, I told her to get some rest as I passed her. She usually doesn't hear these kind of comments because she doesn't want to, but I tried. But, while her "thanks" was probably addressed to the others, she did look me in the eye as she was walking out, me already being outside. There is something gentle about the way she looks at me. Maybe she did hear it, after all. Maybe she was glad. These looks of hers are the reason I never know for sure how she feels about me. That's the one thing I never learned how to read about her.

After I spent an hour and half with six little girls clinging to me every other minute of training, I went home feeling great. That's how I know I'm doing my job well. My boys aren't quite so physical, naturally, but I like to think they like me, too. They laugh at my jokes. Anyway, I was in a good mood, ready for dinner, having a good time... then I get a text from Bandana Friend, saying "Look at V's [SNS account]."

Private account.

I immediately got dead scared. What if she found out I was there? What if she saw? Oh God, what if I fucked up? I immediately lost my appetite, and I was in a rather intense state of fear and panic, not at all able to think the situation through rationally and spamming both Bandana and Pocketwatch Friend about the situation. Now, I am aware that I overreacted quite a bit, to the point of nearly crying, and that the situation is nearly not as dramatic as I thought, but I really felt like I betrayed her and invaded her privacy, which, especially after all the shit she's done for me, felt like quite the dick move.

Why was her account public before if she didn't want anyone finding her, you may ask. I actually haven't got an exact answer for that. The best I can say is that—she's human. She made a mistake, and I trust her enough to feel that she did. She was careless, but I'm in no position to throw the first stone at her. After all, I was, too.

For long hours after that, I felt hollow. Disappointed in myself. I could only cry later as well, once my mum was gone. Quite tragic, that. One Friday I'm crying in her arms, the next I'm crying because of her. This is why it took me so long to sit down and tell you this, even just writing all this took me 4 whole ass hours. As I thought it over and over again, I realised V isn't someone I should be fearing. That if she ever confronted me about it and I admitted to it, she would be hurt, but she'd understand. She wouldn't hold a grudge, and I could surely make it right by her, were that the case.

But both my friends offered an explanation that made even more sense. After all, it was my cousin from the other class who found it, and surely all of his classmates know. My friends both said that maybe someone over there let the cat out of the bag—honestly, some people there are the type. If you read things back, the fact that she had class with them between our two classes with her, and that she started class with us really disoriented and worn quite add up. I don't think I'll ever know if she saw I was there. I don't think she'll ever mention it. I still feel a little guilty, and something tells me all this isn't quite over yet, not until I see her again and see how she acts. But spending an hour last night, jumping around barefoot in my PJs while listening to Queen and Abba and lip-synching into my phone worked wonders to get the depression out. You should try it.

We'll see how things go. Maybe I screwed up, maybe we both did, maybe neither of us has. Whatever happens, I'll tell you next time. Promise I'll be on time from now on.

~ S ♡

[Every story I share here, no matter how specific I get with my wording, depicts actual events from my own life.]

[lurafita]

Petvengers Chapter 3

Read chapter 1 here: Chappy 1

Read chapter 2 here: Chappy 2

:-) Guess now what kind of animal Stephen gets, and see if you guessed right later in the chapter! Cookies for everyone who knows who Detective Davis is. :-)

To stave off any confusion that might come, MJ's parents are divorced, and Michelle has no blood-related siblings. *Insert name here* has no blood-related siblings, and his mother died.

Regarding the pet introduced in this chapter, please remember that this is a fanfic. I therefore take some liberties with the laws on which animals can and can not be held as pets. 

Dr Strange

America may be the land of the free, but it was sadly not the land of good tea. Not if you asked one Dr. Stephen Strange, Master of the Mystic Arts.

He could have sworn he still had a stash of the fine leaves he had brought back from his last visit to Kathmandu, but he hadn't been able to find it anywhere. His quest to find a vendor that sold decent tea, had taken him almost all the way to the ends of Manhattan, but at least he now had something to tide him over with, until the next time he was due to visit the monastery. If it weren't for the almost unbearable summer heat outside, the trip might not have been so bad.

Since he was in his civilian clothes, he headed for the nearest alley to open a portal to the Sanctum. No need to draw attention to himself, after all. He wasn't Stark.

He had barely stepped foot into his home, when he heard the voice of the boy, Peter, coming from the sitting room.

"-which is why MJ is currently getting ready for a 'get to know you' dinner with her possible new stepfather and brother. Ned and I researched the guy beforehand, of course, but he checked out. He is a police detective with the Brooklyn devision, and so far we haven't found anything that would point at him being dirty or the likes. No shady connections to the Mob, no underhanded courtroom deals, no crooks or witnesses that vanished under suspicious circumstances while connected to any of his cases, and no secret Swiss bank accounts."

Stephen could only shake his head at what he heard, even as a fond, little smile stole itself across his lips. Kid was watching too much TV. It seemed Wong shared this perspective, as he could hear the other man next.

"While your devotion to assure your friends safety is admirable, don't you think that hacking into the police stations database is taking things a little far?"

How Wong could say something like this, and still sound completely relaxed, was a mystery to Strange. He himself was contemplating to inform Stark of his ward's latest shenanigans, so that the man could perform some damage control.

"One can never be too certain. But don't worry, we made up for the hacking by strengthening the departments firewall. Their data was almost as easy to get to as the hospitals. I actually think I met Detective Davis as Spiderman once, and he seemed like a pretty nice guy. I'm not actually too worried, but I will be keeping an eye on things."

By then Stephen had made his way to the room, where Peter and Wong were talking, both had a glass filled with cold water before them on the table, while the Cloak of Levitation had draped itself beside the teenager on the couch, apparently listening in on the conversation as well.

"As long as you don't commit any more felonies while 'keeping an eye on things', Spiderman, that's perfectly alright."

The boy immediately grinned at him.

"What's up, Doc?"

Stephen sighed. Sometimes he really despised Bugs Bunny. Wong nodded at him in greeting and the Cloak fluttered one of it's corners, which was it's way of waving hello.

He continued on to the connecting kitchen, and started boiling the water in his teapot.

"What brings you here, Peter? And how come your canine companion isn't with you?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Peter pout.

"It's too hot for Hope. We went for a walk yesterday morning, and he burned his paws on the asphalt. Colonel, too. Tony sectioned off a few yards behind the tower, and had a company deliver some soil and fast growing grass seeds. And pavilions for some shadow. So any outside activities for the animals are restricted to the new backyard, until this heatwave passes. But it's just as well, because Arthur is still getting used to his new leg Dad and Bruce built him, and he still needs to take things slow. And Eames can more easily stretch his wings there, without bumping into anything and having to maneuver around walls and stuff."

Stephen, thanks to Wong, knew all about the little arachnids efforts to turn Stark tower into a zoo, and could deduce that Colonel, who had also burned his paws, was one of the pets that Peter had coerced someone into adopting. 'Eames', likewise, must be an avian type of animal that now belonged to one of the Avengers. But he had no idea who or what 'Arthur' could be.

"Arthur? Did the Avengers get a new member?"

To his surprise, Wong answered the question.

"Arthur is Sergeant Barnes adopted, young raccoon, who lost his hind leg to a hunter trap. He is very cute. Peter sent me pictures."

Said teen scowled at the Sorcerer Supreme.

"Which you would have gotten, too, if you finally accepted my friends request on Whatsapp."

Thankfully that's when the kettle let out a shrill whistle, and Stephen could finally start brewing himself a cup. He would not be able to get through what was to follow, without a nice cup of tea.

"Peter, you have my number for emergencies and other important things, not to spam my phone with pictures of every cute, little critter you come across. I remember the day you adopted Hope. Wong's phone vibrated so much with received messages from you, it fell off the table. Also, I don't have Whatsapp."

Completely ignoring everything else the man had said, Peter zeroed in on that last statement.

"What about twitter?"

"No."

"Instagram?"

"No."

"Tumblr?"

"I don't even know what that is."

"You gotta have Facebook at least! Even Steve has a Facebook page, and he uses a flip-phone!"

"Definitely not."

Peter, seemingly beyond shocked, turned to the older monk beside him.

"How do you live with him?"

Wong sighed, shook his head, and took a sip of his water.

"'Tis the cross I must bear."

Thank the Ancient One that his tea was done! He took a long drink, disregarding the scalding temperature, and sighed in relief. Better.

"Why don't we get back to my first question, shall we? What brings you here, Peter? Do the Avengers need assistance?"

Peter grinned and dove for his backpack.

"Nope! I just brought over the next part of the Harry Potter movies for Cloakie!"

He quickly yanked the movie disk out of his backpack and held it aloft triumphantly. And then the Cloak of Levitation, an ancient, magical, powerful artifact, that was revered by many, fluttered in absolute excitement and tackled the teenager in a hug, while also grabbing the movie.

Peter laughed, Wong smiled, and Stephen resisted the urge to burrow his head in his hands, and instead took another sip of his tea.

After he had managed to untangle himself from Cloakie, Peter downed the rest of his water, thanked Wong for the beverage, and stood up.

"Alright! I should be on my way now."

"Do you want me to open a portal into the tower?" Stephen offered, remembering the sweltering heat outside. Peter shook his head.

"Thanks, but I wanted to fit in a little patrol before going back. Though I don't expect a lot to be going on, with the temperatures outside. Thank God the suit has air conditioning. Bye Doc, bye Wong, bye Cloakie!"

Two "Bye Peter"'s and a full body flutter from the Cloak, and the young superhero was gone. With the closing of the front door, Strange sat down on one of the couches and relaxed. He liked Peter a lot, but the boy could be a bit taxing at times. As he drank his tea and watched the Cloak fly off in search of his laptop to watch it's new Harry Potter movie, he never noticed the deeply amused, knowing and conspiratorial little grin Wong was wearing.

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

"So, MJ said the dinner went really well. She likes the guy, said she had a good feeling about him."

Ned told Bethany, the shelter worker who had been there when Michelle and Peter had guided Sam and Bucky into pet adoption. Peter had boosted himself up on the reception counter, and was carefully stroking the soft feathers of the big snow owl perched on his arm. While Bethany wouldn't normally allow a visitor to have one of the animals in the open like this, and in the buildings lobby to boot, she had made an exception for Peter. Not only was the boy extraordinarily good with handling the animals, he had also needed a little pick-me-up, seeing as the persisting hot weather had not allowed for his dog to accompany him to the shelter.

Peter added his own little tid-bits.

"The son had apparently been a bit quiet, but she said he seemed very sweet."

Bethany nodded.

"Well, I believe anyone would feel a little awkward, meeting their father's new girlfriend, and girlfriend's daughter. How old did you say the boy was?"

Since Peter was very busy smiling over the cute faces the owl was making as he pet it, Ned answered the question.

"11. Though MJ did get him to talk a bit about hobbies and stuff. She said he has a real interest in art, especially graffiti painting."

Peter chimed in then.

"Which means he and MJ will have plenty to bond over. Hopefully she doesn't make him take up her 'painting people in distress' thing. Otherwise my frowning face will likely be the first of many, to one day appear on walls all over the city."

Ned paled visibly.

"Dude, that's horrifying."

Bethany laughed softly.

"Now, now boys. You shouldn't fret about things like that. My wife always says that artists carry old souls. Anything they draw, is worth drawing. Even a frowning face."

She winked at Peter. Bethany was totally cool. She was 58 years old and had been together with her wife since they were both 20. When America finally lifted the ban on gay marriage, they had been one of the first same-sex couples to tie the knot in 2015. Peter opened his mouth to reply, when his ears picked up the distant (though rapidly closing in) sounds of screaming and cursing. He grinned.

"Ned, get your camera ready. Operation: Harry Potter, is about to begin."

The other boy obediently pointed his camera towards the entrance, and before Bethany could ask what the boys were talking about, she heard a male voice screaming at someone or something to: "Stop it, goddammit! You insufferable piece of magical cloth! If you don't let me down this instance-"

And then suddenly the doors burst open and what looked to be a man, swaddled in... a red cape?.. came literally flying in.

Peter jumped from the counter (carefully though, so as not to unsettle the owl still perched on his arm), and took a few steps forward.

"Cloakie, you made it!"

Then the cape seemingly unraveled itself from the man (giving the poor guy quite the spin in the process), and came floating over to the teen and owl.

While Bethany was still trying to cope with the fact that there was an apparently living article of clothing, hovering in front of Peter and seemingly ogling the owl (which ogled back just as much), the man the cape had dragged into the shelter (and boy, that was definitely a line of thought she never expected to have) was slowly getting his bearings again. Then he pinned a very pointed gaze at the two teenagers, and made a notable effort to keep his voice calm.

"Peter. Ned. Would it be correct for me to assume, that you are to blame for my unwilling journey through the streets of Manhattan?"

As Ned tried to shrink back behind his camera (that he still kept resolutely focused on the sorcerer), Peter just grinned brightly at the man.

"Absolutely. Very astute of you. Guess that's why you are the Sorcerer Supreme."

 (Oh, so that was that magical superhero that her wife had told her about. Really, her love was such a fangirl where New York's hero community was concerned. Well, at least that entrance made sense now.)

The man, (Dr. Strange, if Bethany remembered correctly), narrowed his eyes at the teen.

"And for what possible reason, do you require my presence?"

Cloakie had extended one of it's corners to lightly pet the white owl on the head. The owl seemed to like it.

"We need a designated adult to sign the adoption papers for Hedwig. She is a 9 year old snow owl. Her owner was a huge Harry Potter fan, which is why he named her Hedwig. He sadly died in an accident not too long ago, and his remaining family didn't have the kind of space to take Hedwig in."

The eyes narrowed further.

"If you want to adopt another pet, then get your aunt or Stark to sign the forms."

Peter shook his head.

"But Hedwig isn't for me."

Bethany looked on intrigued as suspicion formed in the sorcerer's eyes.

"Peter, I'm not getting a pet."

The teen rolled his eyes.

"I know. Hedwig isn't for you, either. She is for Cloakie!"

As if to underline his point, he lifted the arm with the owl a bit, drawing all eyes to the way the Cloak of Levitation cooed (could a cloak coo?) at Hedwig.

The look on the doctor's face right then, was one that Bethany had seen many times on her sister in law, when she had to explain to her 4 year old daughter why she only got one birthday every year.

"Kid, the Cloak of Levitation may be a sentient being with it's own will, but it cannot adopt an animal."

Peter gave the man the most deadpan look that Bethany had ever seen him make.

"I. Know. Which is why we need you to sign the paperwork. Didn't I say that? I thought I said that."

He looked questioningly at Cloakie, who nodded in agreement, and then went right back to petting the owl.

Stephen decided not to suffer any more of this lunacy, and waved his hands to open a portal to the Sanctum. Before he was able to fully step through, however, the Cloak had settled around his shoulders and dragged him back into the shelter's lobby. He directed his stern gaze at the Cloak.

"I don't care how much you love Harry Potter, you will not keep an owl in the Sanctum."

The Cloak folded both of it's lower ends together, in an imitation of a human folding their arms over their chest. Stephen pointed a finger right at it.

"Don't give me that look. We are not taking that owl home, and that is final."

Hedwig, (with a little whispered encouragement from Peter), took matters into her own hands (claws? Wings?) and gave the teen an affectionate headbutt, before flying off his arm and right through the still open portal, into the Sanctum. While Stephen was still trying to process this fully, his magical cloak fluttered in excitement and dove right after it's owl. The portal closed right behind them. Stephen stared.

Before he had the chance to chase after his wayward magical artifact, Peter was suddenly before him, shoving a bunch of papers and a pen into his chest.

"Great, doc! I knew you would come around, though there was really no need to get Hedwig to your home in such a rush! Now, let's just quickly take care of the formalities. You wouldn't want Bethany to think that you were kidnapping her animals, right?"

The wide, brown eyes looked meaningfully first at him, then at the older woman behind the counter, then at a still filming Ned.

Master of the mystic arts, Sorcerer Supreme, protector of the magical realms, Doctor Stephen Strange, let out a long suffering sigh, and grabbed for the adoption forms.

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

When roughly twenty minutes later, a portal opened up in the sitting room of the Sanctum Sanctorum, through which stepped a thoroughly annoyed Stephen, Wong was already prepared with a cup of steaming tea.

"The Cloak and Hedwig are in the upper level, playing a game of tag." He quickly handed the cup over, completely ignoring the calculating eyes his friend was bestowing him with. "I have already placed different perches for our new roommate all over the house. The special bird feed is in the kitchen."

Then the older monk calmly sat down in his armchair, and resumed reading the thick tome of incantations before him.

"You were in on this, weren't you?"

Wong casually turned a page.

"I have no idea what you are talking about."

Stephen swore loudly, took a sip of his tea, and vowed to find a way to get revenge.