#goofy ass art supplies

[sisigull]

Me when I finally use my copics 🤯

Copics and colour pencils (both of which I don’t really use)

[eijirousbestie]

I love love love your bakugou x artist reader trope please we need more of it it’s so wholesome i have read it on repeat since you upload it 💗💗💗

Aahh thank you so much!! Kinda grew attached to it myself so I’m glad to hear y’all love it sm<33 This is definitely a series I plan on continuing🤟🏽 this part is kinda more goofy than anything else but I promise there’s fluff near the end<33

“Fuck around and find out”

he loses his drumsticks

missing rug

using an art supply as a weapon?

nonverbal apology

can’t admit he’s wrong for SHIT

Clay is never easy to work with and you’d be foolish to think it is. It’s messy, dries relatively quickly and dirties up every surface it graces. You swear your sculpting professor is out to get you with these ridiculous projects. From cardboard cutouts to detailed portraits to clay. It’s a madhouse in the art department.

Using your modeling tool, you try to carve into the block of raku clay that cost an arm and a leg to buy from the university’s private art supply store. It was a blessing and a curse to have it so conveniently placed right across the hall from your sculpting class. The clay and tool alone cost you $27 that you’ll never see again. This degree better be worth it. You look at your desk partner and see that she’s going to town on her clay block. She cuts, carves and scoops at it like she’s done it a thousand times over. Clay sculpting is a completely different wheelhouse you’re not used to but you’re always willing to learn. Hopefully fast.

You quickly check your phone, residual dried clay sprinkling onto the screen as you click on it. 7:50 PM. It’s time to wrap it up for the day. Almost in sync, your professor calls time and you all begin to clean up. You clean off your work station diligently and swing your bag over your shoulder, wishing everyone a good night as you leave. The walk to your car is peaceful. The night is quiet and the air is cool and clear. Truth be told, you were opposed to taking a night class at the start, probably afraid you’d get jumped at night or something irrational like that. But now it’s what you look forward to during the week. Being left alone with your own thoughts and decompressing from the day in the evening is just so therapeutic. Finally making it to your car, you get in, closing and locking the door after. Now that your hands are free from dried clay, you go through your missed messages for the evening. As soon as you turn off do not disturb your screen is flooded with missed calls and text notifications. Your eyes widen and confusion floods your mind as you scroll to the very first message.

#1 Hater🏆: yo, lost my drumsticks. you seen em?

delivered 6:15 PM

#1 Hater🏆 missed call

#1 Hater🏆: yeah you totally took em u little shit

delivered 6:30 PM

#1 Hater🏆 missed call (2)

#1 Hater🏆 missed call (4)

#1 Hater🏆: ik damn well you’re not ignoring me rn

#1 Hater🏆: i’ll go in your room rn and throw out that shitty rug. keep playin

delivered 7:05 PM

You laugh at his empty threat of a message and roll your eyes. What he had against your rug, you didn’t know. Buying a rep was cheaper than the real thing. KAWS is not a brand that’s in your tax bracket. And of course you didn’t know where his drumsticks were. He usually keeps all his music equipment locked away somewhere so it’s most likely his fault for losing them. You’re about to turn off your phone when a ping sounds from your device, a new message shining brightly on your screen.

#1 Hater🏆: forgot you were at your night class. probably got me on dnd anyways

#1 Hater🏆: still gonna give you hell for stealing my shit tho

delivered 8:03 PM

You type back a quick reply.

You: don’t have ur sticks. touch my rug and u die. I’ll be back in 5 to kick ur ass for blaming me

You shut your phone off and start your car, pulling out of the parking lot and driving back to the dorms.

Once you’re back you walk through the living room and make a beeline to your room. You open your door and what you see inside is enough to fuel nightmares. A rather deranged looking Bakugou has his hip leaned up against your windowsill, arms crossed over his chest as a single lamppost from outside your window illuminates one side of his face. He looks at you. Stares even and doesn’t say a single word.

“Is there a reason you’re just sitting in the dark like a weird-ass Disney villain or?” You flick on the light switch next to the door, drenching your room with light. It’s only then that you notice your floor is rather bare. This motherfucker.

He must have seen your reaction judging by the way his eyes follow your gaze to your now exposed wood flooring. A shit eating grin spreads across his face, damn near splitting it in two. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You’d hate to beat his ass over something so trivial but it’s getting harder to restrain yourself. You force yourself to look him in the eyes as you speak very very carefully.

“Kats… you wouldn’t happen to know where my rug is would you?”

He straightens up and walks towards you, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his sweats, a cocky bounce in his stride.

“Dunno. My shit’s missing too. Must be a ghost or somethin’.” Not a lick of remorse escapes his mouth. He’s smug. He’s proud of himself and he even came back to the scene of the crime just to taunt you. Your left eye twitches, patience wearing thin.

“I’ll ask you one more time for the sake of being generous. Where. Is my. Rug.” He shrugs and feigns innocence.

“Fuck around and find out.”

The hell did he just say? Is he really trying to pick a fight right now? Usually you’re the one keeping the peace but this man has now dragged your innocent rug into his thick headed nonsense. You chuckle in disbelief and look at the ground, shaking your head slightly.

“‘Fuck around and find out?’ Huh… aight then.” Bag still slung over your shoulder, you unzip the smallest pocket and pull out the modeling tool you used earlier for your sculpting class. You grip it tightly in your palm, the pointed edge facing outwards. Bakugou’s cocky façade waivers a bit but he doesn’t show it. His left eyebrow quirks up in interest.

“Tryna stab me with an art supply?” You’re not really gonna stab him. Just scare him into giving you your stuff back. Maybe…

“You said fuck around and find out right? So imma fuck you up til I find out where my shit is.” You drop your bag on the ground and rush at him all at once. His once calm demeanor switches to sudden shock and he moves to dodge your swing.

“Dude what the fuck!? Will you chill?” He doesn’t know whether he’s shouting in annoyance or fear, though he’ll never admit the latter. You turn around to where he’s standing behind you, modeling tool still tightly clutched in hand.

“Give me my shit back then!”

“Cmon it’s a shitty knock off. You really gonna stab me over a $30 rug?”

“And you really stole a $30 rug over a $15 pair of drumsticks?”

“Cuz you stole em!”

“I didn’t steal anything. I don’t even know where you keep them Kats! Plus I haven’t been in the dorms since 8 this morning.” His face stills and his brain sorts through what you’d just said. It made sense really. Today was your long day this week. You’d been gone from 8 AM to 8 PM.

He straightens up from his defensive stance and looks away, rubbing the back of his nape. “Okay well even if you didn’t take em, still don’t know where they are. Everyone’s a suspect right now.”

“Then why aren’t everyone else’s things missing?”

He shakes his head and corrects you. “Nah, I took a piece of everyone’s shit too not just you. It’s all stashed til someone fesses up.” You stare at him like he’s grown two heads, face turned up in disapproval and disbelief.

“Aight Kats whatever. You know it’s not me, so can I please have my rug back?” At this point you where drained from classes and just wanted to rest. Not to mention using the last of your energy to attack this idiot.

He walks to your door and opens it, the creak of the door signaling his great escape. “Ask me nicely.” He’s closing the door behind himself now, but you’re quick to yell out.

“Dude are you seriou-”

“Under the bed.” With that, he closes the door and you’re left in silence. You kneel on the ground and look under your bed and just as he said, your rug is there safe and sound. You pull it out from its hiding spot and place it back in its respective spot on the floor. You let out a deep sigh of relief which can be heard by the eavesdropping figure just outside your door. He chuckles to himself and walks to his room. Truth be told he found his drumsticks minutes before you came back to the dorms. He was just too embarrassed to tell you he found them after misplacing them himself and blaming you for it. Plus, it was more fun this way. Minus the potential stabbing part.

[thelemoncoffee]

everybody has a hc about some kind of car DICE owns right? like we all think about these clowns piling into some sorts of vehicle together right?

What's y'all dicemobile hcs? what kind of vehical is it? how did they obtain it? what kind of paint job does it have? what the hell did they do to the inside? is it in good contion or does has it seen better days? i love thinking about this kind of junk because it like- pure inviromental story telling

personally mine is an old white van they bought cheap from a junkyard cause it still ran and have been slowly fixing. they did some spraycan art of a king card on the sides and completly stripped the inside and put new benches in it (they aren't super comfy but they're better than the mold monsters it came with). it use to have a metal devider between the back and the cabin but they took a saw to the middle so someone can hop over the front bench to get between the two. the back has plenty of space under the seats and a couple of wall and ceiling racks/hooks for supplies. it looks alot better than it did when they first bought it, but it's still in need of alot of TLC and also sometimes they end up damaging it more on missions

they also have fuzzy dice ans bead necklaces on their mirror and a few goofy ass dashboard bobble heads :)

[catchyhuh]

hey. did you guys know there's a shockingly sizable amount of lupin golf supplies with appropriate goofy ass art to match because

[twiixr4kidz]

NAMELESS GHOUL HEADCANONS

i cannot get them out of my brain.

dew's hair is like super long and it's his pride and joy

since his element is fire, he's almost always like piping hot so whenever it's cold out, the ghouls huddle around him for extra warmth

cumulus makes tea bags for each of the ghouls, along with a piece of paper explaining why she added what she did

sunshine does nail art

DEW MEOWS

the ghoulettes have girl's nights every saturday where they sit in cirrus's room and do a bunch of cute little self care routines and it usually ends in the three of them passed out, surrounded by snacks with a movie in the background that none of them are watching

they also all cuddle up together, and there have been times where their tails got tied into knots and mountain had to help them

aether is the sleepiest ghoul

swiss insists on keeping the fridge stocked with dr pepper

whenever rain sees a puddle, he literally needs to jump in it

cirrus and mountain teach each other how to play their corresponding instruments, and sometimes they switch during practice

whenever he's sleepy, dew curls up on aether or rain's laps. and forces asks them politely to play with his hair

mountain kicks ass at google snake

swiss likes to stand behind doors waiting for the other ghouls, and then he pops out and scares the shit out of them with that goofy smile on his face

cumulus sleeps WEIRDLY

she'll go to bed laying on her back like a stick and when she wakes up, she's folded in half in the middle of the bed with the corner of a blanket in her mouth

mountain loves the snow, and him and rain have snowball fights during the winter

there was this one time swiss bought weed brownies and he forgot to tell aether, who ate the entire container and ended up high off his ass

sunshine smells like blood and fresh roses and she's really really soft

cirrus is the only ghoul who can juggle with her tail; it's like her party trick

papa once brought the ghouls to a trampoline park and you can only imagine the chaos that unfolded

in short, dew got stuck IN THE CEILING, aether and mountain went to play games at the arcade and won like 12 giant plushies just by playing skee ball, cumulus and swiss started throwing the ball pit balls at each other and they got rain to supply them with more balls whenever they got lost, and cirrus and sunshine were launching themselves at the trampolines on the walls trying to see how far they could throw themselves

the ghouls in public is literally the funniest thing ever

[butmakeitgayblog]

When did midwestern au Clarke realise she’s in love with Lexa?

When she had the flu 🥺

It'd been coming on for awhile - the realization, not the virus.

For months it'd been like 'Ah man. Ah jeez... I think I might be actually really legit falling for this sexy little weirdo. What the hell is in the water in this town?'

Because, ya know, she'd really been getting to see Lexa as person beyond just the woman who liked to flirt and take her out for the evening. She got to see the way Lexa reached out and had a hand in how her community thrived. She saw that Lexa did things like check in on elderly neighbors who had no one else to look after them, and how she helped do little fundraiser events that went to the little town school for things like new books and free lunches. She saw that when first big snowfall happened, Lexa was right out there with her shovel, directing all the boys with their pickup plows to clear the streets while she wrangled up a few others to hell her clear out the sidewalks and driveways. (Seeing those rosy red cheeks and that stupid beanie hat. Feeling the chill of Lexa's frosty-tipped nose when she kissed her after she was done digging Clarke's car out. All of thag certainly didn't help her cause for keeping this whole thing relatively casual either.)

She was just Lexa. And after awhile Clarke realized that being Lexa meant being so many different things to so many people. She was peacekeeper among rivals and heavy-fisted diplomat among hot heads, teacher and advisor to the younger ones looking toward a future outside of the town limits. She was friend and confidant to the lonely, and caregiver to the all but forgotten. She was all that on top of being a goofy ass drunk who liked to get handsy while dancing to the sappiest gd country songs Clarke's ever heard in her life. And somehow none of that really seemed at odds with the fact that she liked to stay up late in the quiet after sex just to talk and listen and share ideas with Clarke about books and art and philosophy.

Falling in love with Lexa wasn't a revelation or any one singular aha moment. It was a million moments that stacked together. It was a process of falling for all the different pieces of her.

So to be honest Clarke was already pretty damn far gone on this girl by the time she got walloped with one of the worst flus she'd had in her entire adult life. But then Lexa showed up on her doorstep a little past noon, face tight with worry and hands filled with supplies.

And for as much as Clarke hates to be coddled- doubly so when she's sick - it's an entirely losing battle trying to assure Lexa's that she's fine when she's pale enough to give Casper a run for his money and so congested that just the trip from the couch to the door has left her winded. Besides, she's got a Tupperware container of homemade soup in one hand, and a full case of pedialyte that Clarke knows she must've driven at least 35 minutes just to get in the other.

So she lets her girlfriend do all her girlfriend-things without much of an argument. But it... it really does change everything, without actually changing anything. There's nothing earth shattering about Lexa bringing over the sweater Clarke always likes to steal from her whenever she spends the night. There's nothing particularly exceptional about her girlfriend adjusting the thermostat to the perfect temp and gathering up every blanket and pillow she owns and creating a nest next her little fan so Clarke can adjust at any moment if she feels too hot or too cold.

But there is something about the little pinch between Lexa's brows while she stubbornly checks Clarke's temperature every now and then. And there's the something about how, despite Clarke's dry and chapped lips and the probable dried snot under nose, Lexa still giving her little kisses. There is definitely something about remembering on day three that Lexa was supposed to have been out of town that entire weekend. Finding out that she had left work a day early with a note for no one to bother her, and then canceled her plans to go ice fishing with her friends just to stay laid up with Clarke instead.

"They'll be fine without me," was all she said when Clarke emerged from her disease ridden haze long enough to ask what happened to her trip. "I wanted to be here if you needed me... I like taking care of you, Clarke."

She'd said it so casually. Like it really was just that simple. As though it was no big deal that she'd blown off people she'd known her entire life just to be a certified Kleenex wrangler and back rubbing aficionado whenever Clarke got wracked with a particularly nasty cough.

That was kind of it. After that Clarke stopped thinking about them in terms of 'for now's and maybes and what-ifs down the line, and actually started thinking about what kind of life they were going to build together. Cuz if that girl could kiss her and still look at her like she was the sun, moon, and stars all while having dried up snot on her nose? It was lost cause. Clarke was done for. She was keepin her.

[rotten-games]

How would the ROs feel if they noticed the MC drawing them?

I'm sure I've answered a question like this a looooong time ago for the rott ROs. I'll dig that up in a bit and reblog it after this one so, for now I'll just be doing the CoI love interests.

Carol: Oddly, her main concern would be with how you got those supplies and whether you're starting to run out. Not because she's the fun police but so you don't run out before she can find more. Somehow.

Lowrie: They'd be... well, they'd be surprised. In secret, probably only with Carol and Harley, they'd gush about your talents.

Harley: Every time they catch you drawing them, they'd give you a goofy pose and try to fluster you. For Funsies.

Ridley: They would simply perish from embarrassment. After they die, they would conjure up new ideas to try and make you better or at least more art materials (you're probably running low on them, and paper, really).

Doc: She's the type where she would silently take note of your talents and then give you every art supply she manages to come across in her travels. No mention of your skills or abilities made unless you actually pushed for her opinion. (She loves your art)

Allard: They're that ass that will tease you about it because they don't know how to properly compliment someone without sounding condescending. They'd get you more paper and whatnot, but you won't ever be sure they aren't somehow playing the long con just to get you for something.

Mordred: To be fair, he's probably well-versed in your hobbies by this point, so whether he sees you're drawing him or not means little. A part of him would feel a little flattered but that is never an emotion he ever feels particularly comfortable expressing because, well, he's a bit of an arse who's allergic to sincerity.

Arthur: He would simply pretend he didn't notice it. Not because he feels any negative way about the prospect, but because he'd be concerned that if you caught him watching you might stop and forbid him from ever looking again.

Adrastea: They would make an entire song and dance about how you have good taste, and that if you wanted to draw them you should have just asked. Quietly, if you allow it, they'd frame your portraits in their bedroom.

Deimos: He wouldn't mention it, he's about as emotionally constipated as Arthur is if not more, but there would be signs he's seen you drawing. Maybe an offhanded comment here, a gift of fancy art supplies there. Just because he can. And because he kind of likes it. But don't mention it. Please.

Dagda: They... would get mad at first; they've seen so many images of themselves that they always feel... objectified by any kind of attention, even such simple attention as a portrait. Eventually, they'd rethink the stance--they know how they feel about you, and they're sure they know how you feel about them, so surely your intent wouldn't be to hurt. At some point, they would apologise, and quietly ask if they can frame the picture in their office somewhere.

And hope it makes them feel anything but loathing for themself eventually.

Saga: They're the type that would see you drawing them once, not mention it, but think long and hard about a great gift to get you that would nourish your talents... Then proceed to hire out an entire art studio to exhibit your works. You will know none of this, until they tell you five months down the line.

Perci: She would IMMEDIATELY point it out with a compliment and then never let you forget how much she loves your art. Ever.

[hellohoshihokori]

Well,i got this idea from that one Tiktok so... Hope you enjoy! Might be out of character but yeah- you'll have to deal with it... i made this before my exam day so... yeah-

If you're from that one Tiktok then Hey! Welcome to my fanfic... hope you enjoy the stay. Please give me feedback and some tips to improve on my writing skills.

Sounds of brush stroke and humming of a song can be heard all across the prison cell. Nikolai kept on painting a beautiful portrait of a beautiful woman? Man? Who knows? It's been a while since Fyodor's death and Nikolai started to forget everything about his dear love... Fyodor Dostoevsky... his friend? His love? His crush? Nikolai didn't know what he was feeling for Fyodor anymore.

He thought it was love... but,is it love that people always kept telling him or what he kept telling himself? He didn't care anymore he can't feel anything... he only felt emptiness and numbness after Fyodor's death. He knew he wouldn't be the same Nikolai Gogol everyone known him as... the happy,goofy,and troublemaking Nikolai Gogol... the jester of the DOA and Fyodor's friend,Sigma's biggest nightmare maybe also his pain in the ass. Who knows what happened? He lost all feeling he doesn't even remember feeling anything at all... he is starting to forget about everything and everyone...

Especially himself...

He is starting to forget about himself and how he was before Fyodor's death. He adores Fyodor a lot even if he doesn't seem like it,he does adore him a lot maybe he loves him? He still doesn't understand what he was feeling for Fyodor... the only thing he remembers and knows is that... Fyodor is the only friend that understands and tolerates him...

He wanted to remember Fyodor he wanted to remember his dearest friend or more? He even started to forget what he looked like... so,he resorted into painting Fyodor face and his whole feature so he will remember him until his last breath. He will keep on painting Fyodor until he forgets him completely or takes his last breath. He knew he sucked at painting so he practiced by carving Fyodor's features on the prison wall using his nails.

He doesn't care if it hurts,he needs to do it... he NEEDS to remember Fyodor. He knows he needs it or he will never forgive himself for forgetting him completely because he knows that no one else would care and remember him... he knows Fyodor was a bad person and always been a cold and insensitive person he doesn't care if he hurts their feelings. He only cares about the goal and the benefit of doing what he's doing.

Nikolai knows how cold Fyodor is... he still remembers those sweet sweet smirk and smug look of his... even though the memories are starting to be blurry...

He carved the walls of his cell with his nails that hurt so bad but he couldn't careless. He couldn't careless how his blood is staining the carvings he made. He doesn't care about the guards who were yelling at him to stop. He doesn't care... he needs to do it. He knows he needs to do it.

The guard grabs his hands and stops him. His vision was getting blurry and passed out due to the lack of water and food maybe even loss of blood. And yes,Nikolai carve Fyodor nonstop not even bothering to eat,sleep,and even drink(we don't talk about him going to the bathroom it's anime logic.) The guards and people around him say he is mentally unstable and crazy or something wrong with him.

Nikolai already knew that. He doesn't need someone to tell him about it,but now that he thinks about it... wouldn't it be perfect for him to ask for a canvas and some supplies to paint and use an excuse for it?

Yes,that would be Nikolai's goal starting from now on. His hands were wrapped in bandages and the doctor suggested that someone watch him 24/7 in case he does something "crazy" again. Nikolai didn't care what the doctor said, he demanded that the doctor give him art supplies in his cell so he can paint. He didn't care if the doctor denied the request he kept on insisting to do it even threatening to end his life or use his ability to kill every single person in this prison or even make a massive prison outbreak.

The doctor after some more threats and demands they agree with one condition. Nikolai wouldn't do anything crazy and use his ability to escape or let other prisoner escape heck he also needed to cooperate with the police on answering some questions about the DOA. Nikolai agrees to the terms,he doesn't care if he needs to expose the DOA. Besides he doesn't remember much anyway they probably wouldn't get so much useful information from him.

Nikolai got back to his cell and some guards came a few moments later brought the supplies and canvas to paint. Nikolai could never be so happy- wait happy? Is he happy? He doesn't know... i guess he felt relieved?

Who knows! The only thing he wants to do now is start painting and learn how to paint. He tries every single day to make a perfect art of Fyodor. His dearest,he paints every day and finally gets the result he wanted...

A perfect piece of art of Fyodor Dostoevsky his dearest...

Every day in prison is the same for Nikolai. Painting Fyodor,eating, drinking,sleeping,and trying to remember the memories of him and Fyodor together.

He remembers how he and Fyodor used to have nicknames for each other but he couldn't put his finger on it...

Oh well,one day he will remember it,he'll try... at least.

Everyday is always been the same... the guards start to notice how Nikolai seem calm and at ease every time he draw this person... a straight black hair reaching his shoulder, beautiful purple eyes that seem to gleam in the dark,a slim and pale figure,and a smug expression on the person's face. The guards don't know who this person is... but,what they know is that they are a very important person for Nikolai and might be a weakness they needed to get information out of him.

But,it will be too cruel they thought so they never use it when they interrogate him for information about the DOA.

One day,when they interrogate Nikolai and check his cell they start to notice something about the new paintings Nikolai made. The back of the canvas always has a romantic poem to them and always ends with "Fedya" or "Kolya". Is this the name of the person that Nikolai paints every day? They didn't know and decided to shrug it off and leave his cell.

One day...

When the guards check on Nikolai,they find him lifeless on the ground with an unfinished painting. When,they investigate further... Nikolai commit suicide and they found something very interesting... the back of the unfinish painting of both the mysterious person and Nikolai himself... the back of the painting have a small writing. It reads...

"You wanted to kill him didn't you?"

"Yes,i certainly did...no,i didn't. No, you're right."

"I never exchange many words with Fedya."

"But my life ever since i met him felt nothing like it did prior."

"Fedya was right,i fought so i could lose myself "

"Now,i... felt nothing but emptiness and hopelessness with him gone..."

One of the guard widen their eyes as they read the text while the other one notice a text in russian. It reads

"Когда-нибудь, может быть, в другой вселенной... мы будем вместе и, наконец, вместе переживем наш счастливый конец." (I hope it translate it correctly since idk how to speak or write russian. So,i use google translate it was supposed to translate "Someday maybe in another universe... we will be together and finally have our happy ending together.")

And the end of that sentence was sign by Kolya himself which the guard find out it's Nikolai's nickname. The only thing they knew about the person in the painting is that... Nikolai calls them "Fedya" and this "Fedya" person is a dearest person for him...

I guess they will meet in the after life or another life...

All i can say is "if you're suffering, you're gonna suffer with me"

[bluepeachstudios]

Mystic Forest Update

Read "Chapter 40: Sneaky Feet" here!

“Splinter patrol commenced, sir!” Mikey gave a goofy salute.

Raph rolled his eyes. “Oyaji’s head out for a supply run, and with the list Mikey gave him, he should be gone for a while. It’s now or never.”

Leo gave the two a nod and turned to Donnie. “Don?”

“On it!” Donnie chirped. “I actually just found what we need. It seems Saki runs an investment firm, and their headquarters is the Hudson Block building in NYC.” 

He turned his laptop to show a fancy skyscraper in the city, at least a hundred stories tall and a logo that looked more like an abstract art piece than something readable. 

“Of course he has a big ass tower,” Raph snarked. “You think he’s compensating for something?” 

“Woah! I’ve never been in a building that tall before,” Mikey said in awe. “That’s bigger than my tree climbing record! And is that a penthouse at the top?!”

“It could be,” Donnie said. “I managed to download a schematic of the building's construction, including a map of each floor, elevator location and detailed layout of the ductwork.”

“Great!” Raph cracked his knuckles. “So where’s the book?”

“That part I don’t know,” Donnie admitted. “That’s where the hard part will be. We’re going to have to sneak in and look around, or worse… Ask people.”

---------

@wondrous-art wrote most of this chapter, I just helped out with some parts. Enjoy you guys! :D

[writer59january13]

Black

Font Din

so u real???

Warning! The following choppy, batty, dopey: elegy = flaky, goofy, history: iffy, jumpy, kooky: loopy, matty, nappy, nippy, sketchy material prone to find the reader dazed and bewildered, yet comfortably numb.

Modern Roam Min Times – mesh

THERE IS NO RELATION WITH THE EPIC OF GILGAMESH (abridged from brook land) AND THIS VIGNETTE – in ma Englesh.

thank a u faux sis this married sexagenarian encloses his poetic opus

the smooching this celibate

(sleep as a cellar dweller) chap doth miss

shaw wish i could give hew a kiss

though ye might rip ply with a hiss

that would usher inxs of x2c Noah obliging bliss.

while perched within mine

Schwenksville, Pennsylvania aerie

this totally mishmash, succotash, n trash -

hoopfully finds ya cheery

so...hallo n greetings ma dearie

just faw bean help ming this fool

i.e. myself who haint no fairy,

boot possibly the missing humankind link

cuz o be yin - head to feet - completely as hairy

Siamese twins with names Tom n Jerry

'though ye might disbelieve moi n feel leery

n doubt every word written -

but try 2 feign b ying merry

while i pose the following philosophical query...

to make sense = deciphering billy shakes perry

now take a mooch needed break cuz,

the following gibberish might beak comb quite weary.

Is society a better world to live in with less or more?

boy! those Everclear caveman days were brutish,

nasty, short and rough. that aside, though no Culture Club, Fancyfeast, nor Iggy Pop the Flintstone era a bit raucous, riotous, and yabba dabba with Doobie Brothers rubble ye us.

Def Jam, ear splitting cacophony felt like listening to partying beastie boys on a vampire weekend competing with Def Leopards roar n rush shin version of hells bells, Inxs of pulp fiction sung backwards by cold play, or a brutally nasty, yet thankfully short version per youtube video drowning out beach boys straight out ta Compton winking in the hood while loud Quiet Riot !@#$ growls shook B52 sized bats overhead, when this grizzled papa bear disturbed (like twittering angry birds), and forced to wake prematurely from hibernation set his seething animal anger to boil, and smoke to issue from jack rabbit ass nine looking Don Quixote ears.

argh! go. whar art thou Cello Yo Yo Ma?

the gumption from this then profoundly gap toothed, high browed, red necked ursine, viperous spouse getting one swiftly tailored kick in the bony arse sent me flying like a twisted sister careening forward out of summer time sadness air back to the future. right then n tha hair, earth, wind and fire convinced this Homo sapiens he became another Grateful Dead Foo Fighter.

upon immediate and most unwelcome exposure therapy to the Avast arctic blast (complete with Arctic Monkey), this Mama’s and Papa’s Boy (by George) was in no mood to neither tangle nor play footsie with Mother Nature.

Analogous to The Idler Wheel Is Wiser than the Driver of the Screw and Whipping Cords Will Serve You More than Ropes Will Ever Do, I wanted to whip the hide, when needles of miniature aeroplane shaped snow white slippery buckshot elements of style kissed, pierced and smashed against his face from those shoddily made flimsy animal clothes that barely kept him warm. Lucky for vat of midnight oil, which shrouded me in n wispy pearl jam pelt.

Tears for Fears spilled in One Direction (like 10,000 Maniacs bursting from a Soundgarden or highly revved Motorhead emulating a Quiet Riot).

Wah. Stop crying bellowed the Queen Scorpion (Poison ing the Air Supply).

Without - dark shadows of a doubt slunk N’Sync with the twilight zone along the edge of night, these beatle browed Monkeys (strewn by denim dog gone hooligans), who cawed like sum Cajun gumbo baboons as proto Partridge Family for a banana split Sunday closing out Vampire Weeknd packing a full house at the Tokyo Hotel.

Anyway, I practically froze off mine scrawny tush.

Dang! Ooh, how purty, a cute deer. Out came the bow and arrow. the feathered lancet described a Nike arc with Nike like swoosh bulls’ eye.

Upon uttering "hey Lucy i am home", the little beasts tore their sharp nine-inch long nails into soft raw doe.

Bathe? The (Puddle Of Mud battled crippled creek), when a dry riverbed doubles up as a mud bed or washbasin after the springtime flood.

How in the name of judas priest could our ancestors enjoy feeling like a beast of burden? who says you cannot always get what you want? Alice coop er in chains? Beastie boy George Cinderella? Eddie money? Freddie Mercury? Iron Maiden? Lana del rey? Jane’s addiction? Pink Floyd? Yes! the entire Motley Crue?

[spencersawkward]

I love your ff first of all, I'm obsessed and second of all I would ask you a suggestion, idk if maybe is that too much and you're totally free to not do that but you ever thought to do something in the line of the knive kink? I think it will be awesome

i'm so sorry this took so long! big thanks to my guardian angel @voidsfilm for giving me inspiration bc i literally struggled with this one more than i should have. never written a knife kink but i’m glad i tried lol.

summary: reader finds an antique knife that Matthew's kept in a drawer.

content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, fingering, oral (male receiving), knife play (no blood drawn), Soft!Dom MGG, degradation and praise.

word count: 3.6k

masterlist

if there is one thing I absolutely despise, it's working out. getting sweaty, running until my legs hurt and my lungs are burning for air... not really my thing.

but when Matthew brought up the idea a couple months into our relationship, I couldn't say no to him: he had a goofy smile on his face and the kind of look in his eyes that made me relent and ask what kind of stuff he wanted to do.

I think that I've found the one thing that Matthew can't make fun.

"I'm gonna pass out." I bend over and set my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath. Matthew slows to a stop a few feet ahead, turning around and making a strained expression.

"oh, come on." but his voice is pretty breathless, too. he gently guides me off the path so that we don't get in the way of the other people out enjoying the day. a couple walks by us with their dog, strolling calmly, and I feel a rush of envy. if our workout routine had consisted of a few pleasant ambles around the city, I would have been totally willing.

"Matthew, I wanna go home." I whine impatiently. the only nice thing about this is that he's got one of those stupid sweatbands on his head to keep his hair out of his face, and it makes him look like a 1980's housewife.

"we can go home in fifteen minutes." he smiles, puts his hands on his hips, stretching in an exaggerated way.

"do you promise?" I brush a piece of hair out of my face.

"promise," he's lucky he looks so cute in his workout outfit. "we can even get one of those fancy juices for you on the way back."

"seriously?" I light up. this might actually be worth it; they have this amazing mango and lime combination that I can't ever manage to recreate with our own blender.

"if you beat me to the rock, then sure." he references the enormous boulder in Central Park that we both gawked at on our first date-- ever since then, it's been the end point for our runs. my lips curl into a grin.

"you're on." I take off, making sure to push him out of the way in order to gain a head start. he lets out something of a protestation but is quick to follow. I can feel his feet pounding behind me, trying to catch up.

I may not be good at running long distances, but I'm sure as hell faster than he is.

...

it's quiet when I step out of the bedroom, drying my hair with the towel and wandering into the living room. Matthew is sitting at the table with his sketchbook, drawing god knows what while he waits for me to finish up.

"what are you up to?" I ask softly as I plop down across from him. my head is slightly tilted while the towel rubs my scalp.

"I'm not really sure." he shrugs, frowning and holding up the notebook from a distance as if that'll help him figure out what to do.

"can I see when you're done?"

"of course," he sets it on the table again, then runs a fingertip across his chin. "actually, can you do me a favor?"

"sure."

"I have a set of colored pencils in the desk over there," he points to an old piece of furniture under the window. "would you mind getting them for me?"

"yep," I reply, getting up and leaving the towel on the table. "least I can do after kicking your ass."

on the walk past him, Matthew grabs my waist and pulls me into him, attacks me with tickles. I squeal and hit his shoulder.

"stop!" I laugh.

"you barely beat me!" he gives a dazzling smile and finally lets me go. I lightly smack him upside the head and head over to the desk, rifling through the drawers for the colored pencils he wanted.

as I push around various art supplies, glue sticks and random paintbrushes that look to be on the brink of falling apart, my fingers pass something cool and metallic. I grab the thing and pull it out.

it's a knife; like, a fancy one with an intricately decorated handle and what seems to be a pretty dulled edge. before he can notice what I've found, I start to move the thing between my hands curiously. there's a nice weight to it, but it's definitely old.

"hey, Matthew?" I ask warily.

"yeah?" so unassuming and sweet.

"why do you have a knife?"

there's a scratching as he gets up from the table to walk over to me. I lean against the desk. Matthew doesn't seem too bothered by what I'm saying at all, only gently taking the weapon out of my hands and examining it himself.

"oh, yeah!" he lets out something like a laugh. I raise an eyebrow and wait for him to continue. "do you remember when we went antiquing in Cape Cod, like, a month ago?"

"yeah." I nod at the memory. he'd been lucky enough to get some vacation days and we'd spent them sitting by the water with glasses of wine and nothing but time to talk. it really was a great trip, now that I think about it.

"I found it there." he still hasn't looked up and I realize that there's something he's not telling me. I don't know what I'm missing, but I start to get nervous.

"...why?"

"I was gonna ask then, but I guess I just forgot." his tongue darts out across his bottom lip as he lifts his face to meet my gaze. my heart thuds when he opens his mouth again. "I kinda wanted to try something."

"like?"

"I've been thinking about maybe using knives... in a sexual way."

"what?" I frown, confused by his wording. Matthew seems to realize that he's phrased it awkwardly and shifts his stance. he keeps glancing between the object and my face like he's worried about scaring me away.

"I don't mean I'm gonna stab you or anything," he laughs. "I just mean I think it sounds fun."

my hand finds his, brushing my palm over the steel to touch it myself again. there's a curiosity that burns through me now, something I'm a little unsure about but not enough so to deny the possibility of trying it.

"what do you wanna do with it?" I peek up at him. he bites his lip. we're speaking in gentle tones and I notice that our bodies have gotten closer within the last few moments. a warmth, a tension.

"like, pressing the blade flat against your skin while I fuck you." he takes the thing and demonstrates. the cool silver rests on my neck, too dull to really threaten a serious cut if he were to move too quickly. a shiver runs down my spine at the sensation of the metal.

I gulp, feel the curve of my throat push against it when I swallow. it's nice.

"oh." is all I say. Matthew is watching me intently, but he doesn't make any motion away from it. like he's entranced by the sight of me with a knife to my throat.

"are you interested?" he asks.

I mull it over. on the one hand, weapon play is something I've never considered in my sex life before. Matthew and I aren't vanilla, but this hasn't crossed my mind. that said, now that I can really feel it, there is a desire forming in my stomach. it would be a strange, new sensation.

"yes." the confirmation makes him smile a little. he lowers the thing and instead wraps me in his arms, kisses me passionately until our tongues are dancing over each other. I love how he holds me, our torsos against each other while my body leans slightly back to accept the weight of his touch.

he goes to my head like alcohol. and it's even more surreal when I feel the blade move under the hem of my shirt to rest against my back. I smile into his mouth. he doesn't do anything with it, just leaves it to remind me.

he starts to rut his hips against my lower stomach, getting aroused at the proximity of our bodies and the heated nature of our kiss. there's an urgency to all of it, like he's holding back. I don't want him to hold back; I want him to give me everything he has, everything beneath the surface.

my fingers twine in his hair and tug on the ends, causing him to groan into our embrace. there's no way we're going to make it all the way to the bedroom with the way he's grabbing at my body, so I stumble backwards towards the couch until the backs of my thighs hit the arm of it.

"you're horny." I giggle slightly when he pushes the hem of my shirt up my body, his nails dragging over my ribcage and trailing the object along with it. I feel the excitement growing.

"I'm just glad you're willing to try this." he murmurs the words, holds our foreheads together before his lips eagerly seek mine out, again. somehow, even with a weapon leveled against me, I can sense the love in every single action. I wouldn't have said yes if I didn't trust him to treat me with the utmost care.

I work at the buttons of his shirt, pushing it over his lovely shoulders and arms as he unclasps my bra. we're fervent, greedy in our movements, trying to kiss despite the attention needed to remove our clothes. mostly we just tangle up in each other until there's nothing left but my shorts for him to shove down my legs. he keeps his pants on.

"c'mon, beautiful." he mutters, pushing my legs open so that I'm sitting on the arm of the couch. he tilts my head and leans closer to suck on my bottom lip, and then starts to massage my tits. I can feel the handle of the weapon against my nipple.

when he reaches to slide his finger between my folds, I hiss out a breath at the cold sensation of his skin.

"is this because of me or the knife, baby?" he asks, corners of his mouth twitching up while I moan into his mouth. he starts to rub my clit with the collected wetness, teasing me too much. I want to fall back, but I can't. I won't let myself.

"both." I find myself turned on by the way the blade sits against my ribs again. the edge is just sharp enough to elicit a reaction from my body.

"feel that?" he angles the thing the slightest bit. I exhale and nod.

that isn't the response he's looking for, however, because he moves it so that it's under my chin. goosebumps on my skin while I pant uselessly against the weapon. I can feel it press harder with every breath out of my lungs, and I love it. I love the risk it brings out of me.

while Matthew dips his index inside my pussy, I writhe against it and tilt my head even more so he has better access.

"look at you," he lets out a dark chuckle, thrusts into me to the last digit. "you want more of this, don't you?"

"yes, sir." I breathe. my neck is actively moving against the metal. I glance down at his body and see his erection straining against his pants, craving release but finding none as he plunges his fingers in and out of me. I can hardly breathe from sheer focus on the sensations he's giving me right now.

"what are you looking at, sweetheart?" he quickens the pace of his movements and uses the object to make me focus on his face.

"you're hard." the words nearly die on my lips. he stares darkly at me, lifting his brows just enough to make me question whether I should have spoken at all. I bite my lip in anticipation.

"and what are you gonna do about it?" his voice is raspy as he stands back, removes his fingers from my pussy, and lets me drop to my knees. I'm weak both from the stimulation and from the loss of it, but I make quick work of undoing his belt, pulling the pants down his legs until I'm face-to-face with his cock. it sits against his stomach, throbbing impatiently while he watches. he uses the metallic point under my jaw to angle my face up to his.

"are you gonna suck me off, baby?" he smirks. I nod rigorously with wide eyes and an open mouth, dragging my tongue along the underside. Matthew's nose scrunches up for a moment at the shock of contact when I tease the head. all his concentration is on watching me wrap my hand around the shaft and pumping him gently. "spit on it."

I obey and spit right onto the tip before rubbing my thumb over the top to gather the precum. as I start to swirl my tongue and move my lips onto him, he throws his head back, lets out a wanton noise. it urges me on. I take every moment with a deliberate attention to the veins and sensitive spot he has.

"that's it, that's it." he rasps while knotting his hand in my hair. the other keeps the knife pressed to my throat. he lets me move on my own for a bit, gauging my desires from the way my eyes attempt to memorize the sight of his face above me, that jaw dropped in licentious craving. I can tell that he wants to fuck my face, but I go slow just to draw it out a little. it makes the soreness of my jaw worth it when he gets all impatient and flustered.

I hollow my cheeks and bob on his dick, bat my lashes, pull myself off him for a second just to kiss the tip.

"can I use your mouth?" he asks through a restrained groan. I open it and nod, sighing at the feeling of his fingers twining through my hair again before he pushes back into the opening. now that he's got full control, he starts to develop his own movements, sometimes meeting his thrusts by pressing my face against him.

he gets deep in it, never losing his grip on the knife, until my nose is pressed to his stomach. my throat closes instinctively around him even more tightly, and he lets out a guttural moan.

"such a cute mouth when I'm using it." he thrusts until I gag and then he's smiling. "get up."

he removes himself so fast, my eyes water at the sudden lack of blockage in my throat. I gulp air while he hooks his hands under my arms and hoists me up. I'm about to turn around so I can lift my leg and give him better access, but he sits me on the arm of the couch and parts my thighs.

"I wanna see your pretty face." he leans down and pecks my cheek. I smile at the surprising tenderness-- although it doesn't last long. steel sits against the space between my neck and collarbone. it's only a moment before he positions himself between my legs and slides his cock into me.

my back arches and I look him in the eyes, gasping.

"fuck, baby." he drags out the first word as he inches inside. I mewl helplessly at the way he stretches me out, my pussy clenching every few seconds. he keeps one hand on my lower back to support me and bring me closer to his pelvis, and then we're staring into each other's eyes as he finally settles in it.

his hips start to thrust into me, hopeful for any kind of contact while I accustom myself to the shape of him. it happens every time, despite the amount of times we've done this. and I'm bad at patience, but he's worse. his body stutters against mine.

"is it good enough, sir?" I ask quietly. he tightens his grip on my back and on the blade, the edge threatening my skin the perfect amount. I suck in a breath at the way it stings a little.

"you're doing perfectly." he recognizes what I want to hear as he finds my sweet spot and begins to hit it repeatedly, smoothly works my body. I swear there are planets in my eyes when I stare at the expressions on his face, both of us so wrapped up in each other that every other thought becomes obsolete.

he moves the knife to under my chin to rest on my throat.

"feel that?"

I nod so the edge bites more. he smirks.

"just to show you who you belong to."

my hips push up to meet his thrusts, needing more stimulation, more friction. what I want is for him to be relentless, to slam into my body with the kind of hunger I know he has. there are sounds, movements, that he's made before that make me want him to use them. but he's withholding, probably hesitant about the dangerous object on my pulse point.

"I belong to you, sir." I egg him on. he likes the sound of that, grunting and starting to pound into me.

"yeah? you're my dirty little whore." he speaks through gritted teeth. I shiver.

"mhmm."

"I use you how I want, when I want." his fingertips dig into my skin and he yanks me closer so that he can hit a new angle. I let out a surprised noise when he brushes my g-spot. it's otherworldly and I expose more of my neck to him.

"my little slut likes pain, huh?" he nudges the weapon harder into my skin. it doesn't draw blood, but I can sense the mark it'll leave. I love it.

"yes, sir." we're both getting needy, but we can't hold each other the way that we want to in our given positions. my palms are occupied on the arm of the couch to hold myself up and one of his hands is too busy holding the object for us to fuck as deeply as we need.

"are you gonna take it like a good girl when I cum in it?" he mutters. he runs his tongue over my jawline and the weapon nicks my skin. I moan at the mingling of sensations that's building all across my body.

"yes, sir." I plead. it's nearly unbearable, how much I want him. we're chasing our orgasms and I know what will finish me off. he knows, too.

Matthew drops the knife. it clatters to the ground, but there's no time for me to register it with the way he grabs my hips and lifts me into the air, my legs wrapping around his waist while he keeps fucking into me. he maneuvers us with shocking ease, laying me on the couch and positioning himself at the right moment so that I can drag my nails over his back and keep my thighs locked around him.

"mmm... baby, I'm gonna cum." he drives into me recklessly, both of us finally able to cling to each other. the angle is just enough to stimulate my clit and I nod, using the leverage of my legs to pull myself to him and roll my hips for friction.

Matthew slams my body into the couch, grunting in my ear as he finds his climax inside me. it's so deep, I have to work to keep the yell inside, but he's not done. he rides it out and plows into me while I reach the edge.

"tell me how it feels." he orders in my ear. I sigh.

"so-- so good, sir." my voice is thin. "I'm close."

"show me." he leaves bruises on my hips with his hands. I feel the knot finally snap, every muscle in my stomach spasming chaotically. I finish with a loud moan, begging him to drag it out further. my vision nearly goes black at the tide that threatens to overtake my body.

"Matthew--" I gasp. he moans quietly at the way I say his name, still rocking his body into mine while I come down from the shocks of orgasm. it's nearly overwhelming, the pleasure running through my body.

slowly, we come to a stillness and he drops his head into my shoulder, panting. he doesn't let go at first, but then he withdraws from my pussy and lets me take a rest. I lay there on the couch while he kneels between my legs, pressing gentle kisses to my neck.

"I love you." he repeats it over and over.

"I love you, too," I hope he can feel the meaning, despite the sheer exhaustion in my tone. he runs his fingertips across the red marks where the thing went a little too deeply, but I'm not worried about it. "we should try that again, sometime."

"you liked it?" he smiles brightly. I love the lines by his eyes.

"definitely."

he lets out a cheerful noise and buries his face back into my throat because he knows how much it tickles. I screech and giggle, my legs kicking wildly around me. more contented than ever before.

[comicnerd557]

Stray Kids as Teachers!!

Bang Chan

Definitely the music teacher

Type of teacher that is super caring

Anyone can talk to him about anything

Offers life advice

Mostly good, sometimes joking

“Pay your taxes and don’t drink and drive.”

Finger guns

Tries to use young people slang

Fails even though he himself is super young

Keeps pictures of his dog on his desk at all times

“Mr.Bang, who’s that?” Points at picture of Barry

He then goes into Barry’s life story, slowly gaining an audience of other students

Every kid has a crush on him

It’s a rite of passage at this point

“Have you seen his ass?” “Duh, who hasn’t?”

Lee Know

The tired art teacher

Has sass battles with his students

Winner gets some candy

He almost always gets the candy

Plays movies once a week

Thinks everyone deserves to relax

Super chill with what students want to create

After all, art is personal

Not at all harsh with grading

Sneaks his cats into the school sometimes

Gets caught, claims they’re there to be models

Almost always has music playing

Students go to him when they need someone to vent to

Gives somewhat violent advice so.... Don’t take it

Everyone wonders when he’ll get with Mr.Han

There’s bets going

Even staff are in on it

Mr.Bang started the bets

Seo Changbin

Everyone’s favorite gym teacher

Specializes his class for students' needs

For example, the asthmatic doesn’t have to run laps, instead, they do some weight lifting

Stresses the importance of warmups and cool downs

Thursdays are pool days

Everyone worships Thursday, as shirtless Mr.Seo is quite the sight

Fridays are fun days

Students pick whatever they want to do that day

Even group nap time has been approved once or twice

He is the best spotter

Have you seen his arms?

Can be frequently found bothering Mr.Kim

Always wearing a tank top. Always

If students aren’t feeling well, he lets them take a nap in his office

Has a special cot with soft blankets and pillows he bought himself

Does not tolerate students making fun of their peers

Has the record for the most detentions given in one day

The class ganged up one on kid who wasn’t good at the sport, so they all got detention

The kid got a free soda of their choice

Hwang Hyunjin

Drama instructor

Specializes in helping students put emotion into their lines

Musicals are his favorite

He makes the Choreo himself

Kind of strict about it ngl

Still understanding somewhat

Just... Not as much as he could be

Basically a mom to his drama kids

Gets told all the tea

The Gretchen Weiners of the staff

He knows whats happening with literally every student

Has shown up hungover a few times, just lets the student directors take charge

Will fight for the theatre department to get more funding

Makes some of the costumes himself

Talented boi

Tries to modernize everything

“Listen, I know Hamilton takes place in the boring times, but Jefferson needs some shades.”

KING of improve

Actually an amazing actor

Blows everyone's minds

Like, yeah, he’s goofy and hot, and he LOVES spilling the tea, but holy shit can he do Shakespeare

Leaves the school at exactly 3:30 PM, unless there’s practice

Has stayed till 11:30 PM once

His students worship him, trust me

Han Jisung

The cheery Kindergarten teacher whos energy rivals the kids

His classroom is an explosion of color

Loves his kiddos

Is great at calming upset little ones

Works incredibly hard

Every other teacher thinks his classroom is a total mess

Blocks everywhere, paints on every table, and nap time mats still out

If you look closely, he does have a system

Only pink paint on this table

The mats are in a specific corner

The blocks are for the kids to make words whenever they understand how to spell something

Big fan of the reward system

Has had many kids call him Dad before

Parents love him so much

Their kids come home rambling about their teacher who taught them the alphabet and they can count to five now!

His kids are pretty much little geniuses

Gets sick so often since he works with little kids

Makes sure his sub is fun

Also make sure the sub isn’t as fun as him so the kids still like him best

Found in Mr.Lee’s art room… way too much

Lee Felix

The school’s therapist

His room is the definition of Happy Yet Zen

Light yellows, pinks, and blues fill the room

Basically a pillow fort

Has a scent diffuser and let’s the student pick the essential oil 

Walks around school with a happy smile always

We know he’s Stay’s sunshine, but he’s now the students

Has a wall of cheesy jokes for students who just need something to make them laugh

Let’s students show him their special interests with no complaints

Gets into almost all of them himself, just to bond with the kids

If the kids just need somewhere to calm down, his room is almost always open

Need a twenty minute nap? He’ll put on some calming sounds and supply the pillows and blankets

The type of teacher who gives gifts to his senior students when they graduate

Always ready to show students music he thinks will help them

The other teachers love him because he brings baked goods once a week

Doesn’t care if students swear in front of him

Kim Seungmin

Middle school English teacher

Students are lowkey scared of him

But they still enjoy him alot

He frequently roasts students and other teachers alike

“Mr.Bang said he’s the best producer? Next person to have his class, tell him to check his ego.”

His favorite time is independent reading time

Mainly cause the kids know to be quite

Heaven forbid someone interrupt his reading

Every time they finish a book, the movie is played

It’s a nice break for everyone

It’s also a break for him

It’s tiring being that sassy all the time

Pretty strict grader when it comes to essays

Only because he goes over what to do super thoroughly and even a baby could do it truly

You think he wants to grade a 7 page paper? No

4 Pages maximum

Definitely has favorites

Tries his best not to show it

Everyone knows

Loves the quiet kids in the back who love reading

Reminds him of himself at that age

Ya know, a whole 5 years ago

Mr.Seo shows up in his classroom all the time, just to mess with him

The kids love it

Yang Jeongin

 The other kindergarten teacher

The admins of the school put the quieter, more nervous kids into his room

Jeongin has a very gentle personality when it comes to kids

The shy ones tend to flock to him

His classroom closely resembles a herd of sheep

Just a bunch of baby sheep hiding behind protective mama sheep

Super calm, but someone messes with his kids?

He’ll fuck you up homie

While Mr.Han’s classroom is an explosion of bright colors, Mr.Yang’s is more pastels

Parents are amazed as their kids slowly open up

Seriously, sudden their super shy kiddo has like, five other super shy friends and won’t stop rambling about  their cool teacher

Prefers a quieter way of teaching, unlike Jisung

Gentle nursery rhymes, soft blankets, no dance parties

Even though him and Mr.Han are polar opposites, they’re best friends

He calms the excitable teacher, and Han brings out his energy

It’s always funny watching the two classes interact

It’s like watching a sheep and fucking golden retriever interact

When the two classes go to gym?

Mr.Seo is in for a treat

One side of the class is screaming like madmen while running around, their teacher joining them

The other is calmly waiting for instructions on the line

Not that Mr.Han’s class is badly behaved, just… energetic

Mr.Yang just chills in the back of the gym, working on some lesson plans while his kids get their limited energy out

Nap times are the best

He sometimes joins in, but shhh, don’t tell the other teachers

Only Chris knows, and has a million photos of Mr.Yang napping at his desk while his students sleep soundly

[wildwomanbluess]

Dean retiring and picking up his sketchbooks again. Cas notices the graphite marks on his hands and the doodles left behind on napkins when they go out for breakfast. He starts to pick up art supplies in town, leaves them on their dresser so dean can’t refuse them if they don’t make a big deal about it. It’s a gift, is silently unspoken between them as Dean hands Castiel a small pencil portrait one quiet morning spent in bed, you keep those. It’s a hobby born of tender practice, support, devotion— something Dean has been starved of.

Hobby turns to passion, with encouragement from his family, Dean signs himself up to apprentice with a tattoo artist in town. He works his ass off for hours hunched over fake skin, cursing at tattoo guns and ink of varying shades. He shows Cas his growing flash book. Sigils and wards, etched into the lineart of american traditional pieces. He wants to open up shop, the first hunter-owned tattoo parlor in the Midwest.

They save, for a while. Cutting corners. Dean works part time at an auto shop, part time at the tattoo place where he apprenticed. Cas gets a job at the local garden centre. He propagates plants in his spare time, too, sells the cuttings online for their florida fund.

They find a shoddy little place with high windows and hardwood floors. Dean gets his tattoo license. Together, they ward the walls carefully in colour matched paint, soft sage greens and blues, pressing matte finish hand prints into each other’s sides when they step back to admire their handy work. His bold art work covers the back wall, as do endless photos of not just his family but his found family, too. A goofy polaroid of Cas, Eileen and Charlie drunk off boxed wine in the bunker. Donna, Jody and The Waywards teaching Jack how to wield a flamethrower. Sam says the makeshift mural/collage suits the name of the place, ‘The Family Business’. Castiel fills what empty spaces are left in the shop with greenery, until they’re near enough bursting at the seams with life. Dean lets him sell a few of his cuttings in an old painted wooden crate on the counter. Says it attracts the hipsters, but really he wouldn’t want a place without a part of Cas in the heart of it all.

The first tattoo he gives out is not to Cas, strangely (Dean gave him too many before he was licensed) but to one of sam’s new network hunters. She’s a werewolf, turned two years ago. Barely in her twenties. There’s a softened sadness, but an edge of empowerment in her voice as she talks to them both about it. Inspired, Dean gives her a lunar design from his flash book to protect her from evil spell work. Castiel doesn’t let her leave without a succulent sapling (on the house, he adds).

Sam’s rehabilitation network kicks up a storm of success, meaning he and Eileen send truckloads of supernatural creatures down each week from the bunker. Sometimes, it’s a kid who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Others, just looking for purpose in a new free world. All of them are welcomed with open arms and mugs of herbal tea from Castiel behind the reception desk. To cope with the influx, he takes Claire on as an apprentice. Her and Kaia move into the empty space above the parlor, after deciding they couldn’t take one more week of Dean and Castiel’s pda (‘it’s not really pda if it’s our goddamn house, blondie’). Her designs, whilst more lucid, have Dean’s influence sewn into their essence.

Dean’s creations, his legacy, idle hands seeking purpose, born of filling empty hours and lack of mortal doom, grown careful with subtle encouragement and love— now roam America on the arms of protectors, guardians, warriors. Dean Winchester did right by this world, he knows this as their Florida fund jar spills over the top from tips and he holds Cas close at night. The money, it doesn’t make him feel unclean. He didn’t steal it, hustle it— he goddamn earned it with his art, his love, his unbridled passion.

‘Happiness’, someone told him a long time ago, ‘it’s just in the being.’ Dean finally understands that, now.

[doctorcollege]

ok i said i might post some witchdoctor headcanons a lil bit earlier so here's These:

they both have dorky petnames for each other- henrik's being more sweet, with marvin's being more goofy. marv does have some sweet petnames for henrik though, mainly "henny" and "angel"

marvin is 6'4, which is four inches taller than henrik. they like to pick him up while hugging n then watching him get Flustered

henrik is the little spoon but you will absolutely Never get him to admit to that.

marvin figures out that henrik really likes art and immediately buys him a bunch of art supplies. they like to watch him Draw :]

i feel like marvin was the one to catch feelings first and they Hated themself for it. before that they literally had no experience with romance n then this fuckin Nerdy Ass Doctor comes in and starts makin them feel all warm n fuzzy inside. Fuck Him And His Dumb Glasses

henrik is usually Mean and Serious but for marvin he is Soff. like yeah they might get on his nerves a bit but he still loves them more than anything and is willing to do literally whatever they ask

i've mentioned this before on my old blog but henrik once wrote marvin a poem..... it was really lovey-dovey n marvin almost Cried while reading it. they like to read it over when they're sad, makes them feel a lil better

both of them have a lot of physical scarring on their bodies from some Not So Great events and are kinda insecure about it (and by "kinda" i mean "a lot"). they both make sure to give each other lots of love and reassurance, though

in a happy ending 4 these two i feel like they'd both just live on a beach somewhere...... henrik loves beaches and marvin loves seeing him happy and doesn't really care where they live so it's a win-win situation. it's cute i liie thinkin about it

marvin makes henrik a lil crystal necklace to help ward off spirits n other Bad Things at some point. henrik doesn't care much for necklaces but he wears it everywhere anyway because marvin made it for him and he loves them

i'm tired and i can't think of any more currently hep me

[maybedefinitely404]

When the Darkness Feels Like Home - Chapter 1

Warning: Future chapters of this fic include sexual assault and domestic abuse.

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

World: Human AU

Content (ch1 only): panic attack, injury, implications of past self harm, Prinxiety fluffiness. 

Pairing: Romantic Prinxiety, background romantic logicality.

Word count: 1.5k

AO3

Roman woke up to the sound of glass shattering in the kitchen and jumped up before his mind had even processed it. A glance at the empty bed he had just leapt from gave him pause though, realizing it was probably just Virgil dropping a plate or something by accident. He took a deep breath to calm his racing heart and checked the phone on the bedside table. 6:47. Odd. Virgil should have been driving to work already, why would he still be in the kitchen? 

With a stretch to pop his aching back, Roman opened the bedroom door and walked downstairs, nose wrinkling at the change from carpet to cold hardwood under his bare feet. It kind of bothered him that he was up at the ass-crack of dawn on his day off, but at least he got to say goodbye to his boyfriend before he left. As he rounded the corner however, he slowed. Virgil was kneeling in the dining room holding the splintered remains of a large picture frame, struggling to pick the pieces up with shaking hands. Roman sighed quietly and dropped to his knees, gently stopping Virgil from grabbing the tiniest shards.

“Hey, Virge, look at me.” He whispered. The boy in front of him didn’t move, instead focusing on the thin glass pieces in his clenched fists. “Viiiirge,” Roman tried again in a singsong voice, letting one of Virgil’s hands go to gently lift the other’s chin so their eyes met. His lip quivered and his face was flushed pink due to his panicked, short breaths.

“Keys,” he whispered, and the glass cracked as he unknowingly squeezed his fists tighter. Roman barely needed a second to understand the situation; the shelf where the frame had sat previously was a mess, the drawers all pulled out and all their contents, mainly Roman’s old art supplies, were dumped onto the dining room table. Virgil must have bumped one of the open drawers and knocked the frame down looking for his car keys.

“Can’t find your keys? Did you check in your hoodie from last night?” 

Virgil nodded shakily.

“Bathroom?”

Nod.

“Kitchen counter?”

Nod.

“Couch cushions?”

Nod.

“Key hanger by the door?”

“Yes Roman, I checked everywhere! Why would I be looking in your goddamn pencil drawers if I hadn’t looked everywhere else first?!” He finally snapped, throat thick with tears. Roman took a deep breath, almost like an example, but said nothing. 

“Alright, I’m sorry love. You’re right. What time do you have to be at work?”

“Seven,” Virgil choked out, suddenly becoming aware of the glass chunks in his hands and the blood dripping down the sides of his palms.

“That’s in ten minutes-”

“No shit, Sherlock,”

“I was going to say, ‘that’s in ten minutes, let me give you a ride,’” Roman said gently, helping Virgil to his feet and walking him to the kitchen, a supporting arm around his waist. 

“No, you don’t have to,”

“I’m going to though. And then after, I’ll come pick you up and we can look for your keys together. When we find them we can watch a movie and just chill, okay?” Virgil’s eyes continued to flit back and forth; the floor, the ceiling, anywhere but Roman’s eyes.  

“I really don’t want to make you-”

“Hup bup-”

“It’s a twenty minute-”

“Hup bupbup-”

“Roman I don’t even know-”

“Hup bupbupbupbup!” Roman smiled and leaned down, silencing Virgil’s complaining with a kiss. “I’m driving you, and that’s final.”

Virgil pouted for a second before leaning onto the sink heavily, his shaking frame still unsteady. He turned the faucet on with his elbow. “Fine. Just promise never to “hup bup bup” me again. And put clothes on, you’re not driving me in just your pajama pants,” With that, he plunged his glass covered hands into the sink and gritted his teeth.

Roman hummed an affirmation, knowing Virgil wouldn’t let him baby his bloody hands, before grabbing his boyfriend’s phone from his pocket and walking upstairs to change. After tapping in the passcode (it was the same as his, 0315) he scrolled through the contacts until he found the one he needed. The phone rang as he shuffled out of his pajama pants and pulled on a pair of jeans.

“Hello?”

“Hey there, is this Virgil’s boss?”

“His supervisor. Who is this?”

“Name’s Roman, I’m his-” he faltered, not remembering if Virgil was ‘out’ to his coworkers or not, “-roommate. Virgil’s roommate.” He didn’t know if Virgil being gay was a secret to the people his boyfriend worked with, but he’d rather not ‘out’ him without his consent.

“Is everything alright?” The man finally put a bit of concern into his otherwise drab tone.

“Mostly, Virgil was just picking up some broken glass and cut his hands pretty badly. He’s just cleaning himself up, so he’s gonna be a few minutes late to work. He’s on his way, though.”

“Alright. As long as he gets here.” With that, the man on the other line hung up and Roman tossed the phone onto his bed, pulling on a red shirt with his free hand. Asshole, he thought, grabbing the phone again and taking the stairs down two at a time. The sun was just peaking into the kitchen window when he walked in on Virgil trying and failing to wrap his bloodied hands. 

“Need a hand?”

“Ha. Ha.” He handed the thin bandage to Roman anyways and let his boyfriend patch him up. He concentrated with smolder-like intensity, determined to wrap it properly.                                                                                           

“How’s the anxiety?”

“Settling but still there.”

“Okay. Your supervisor sounds like a swell guy,” 

“He’s a piece of work. He’s not all that bad though, at least he does his job,”

Roman remembered all the times Virgil had come home ranting about some of his useless coworkers who couldn’t seem to get anything right, and chuckled slightly. A minute and a couple of pained hisses from Virgil later, his palms were thinly wrapped and good to go.

“Are you sure you should be working like this?”

“They’ll stop bleeding in like ten minutes, I just needed a way to keep the blood from getting on my work clothes. They weren’t deep, and they’ll be totally good in a couple days. Don’t worry,”

“Ten minutes? That’s oddly specific,” Roman laughed teasingly before meeting Virgil’s saddened smile, remembering with a sigh how Virgil knew the time cuts took to heal. “Right… sorry,” 

“It’s okay,” Virgil said, taking his turn to give Roman a gentle peck on the cheek, “Can we go?”

“Mmhm,” Roman grabbed his keys from the hook in the entryway and locked the door behind him, taking Virgil’s hand in his delicately as they made their way to his car. It was a used white Civic, nothing fancy, but Roman called it his Noble Steed any chance he got. He opened the passenger door for his boyfriend like the sappy romantic he was. Virgil laid his head back against the seat and closed his eyes, still trying to get the heavy knot in his stomach to dissipate. He could feel his hands begin to shake again as his phone alarm went off, signalling on a normal day that it was time to finish sulking in his car in the hotel parking lot and clock in. Only now, Roman was just backing out of the driveway. 

Roman seemed to notice the mood shift in his passenger and reached over to take his boyfriend’s bandaged hand again, rubbing his thumb over the knuckle gently. 

“It’s okay, Stormcloud. I talked to your supervisor, remember? He’s not mad that you’re late.”

The nickname seeped through Virgil like a wave of ice water over his flushed skin, making a smile pull at the edges of his lips. Still, it wasn’t doing much to soothe the nausea in his gut. The half an hour drive to work was quiet, broken only by the gentle radio and Roman humming along to the songs. By the time they got to the hotel that Virgil worked at as a breakfast attendant, Virgil felt considerably calmer. They parked near the door and Virgil groaned.

“I don’t wanna go to work,”

Roman entangled his fingers in Virgil’s hair and tugged him closer, pressing their lips together. He pulled away quickly and scratched the back of his boyfriend’s scalp lightly, making him blush. 

“I’ll see you later. Done at noon, right?”

“Mmhm,”

“I’ll be here. Love you,”

“Love you too,”

“Love you more,”

“Love you most,” Virgil slammed the door before Roman could get a word in, and he watched with a goofy smile on his face as the love of his life straightened his black button up and pushed his purple bangs out of his face. The slow sliding doors opened for him and he gave Roman a final wave before disappearing into the building.

The rest of this fic is on AO3 - Link here

[jessethorn]

Some Los Angeles Tips

People are always asking me what they should do when they visit LA. I am by no means the greatest LA expert on earth, but I’ve lived here more than a decade now, and I have some ideas for you. Note that I live in the far Northeast corner of LA, and really rarely travel to the western half of town. So if you are looking for advice on Beverly Hills stuff or Malibu stuff or whatever, I am not that helpful. Also this is very subjective and really non-comprehensive in general. Just some stuff I like!

In General

Rent a car if you drive, but don't be afraid to take the bus or subway. There are some very long distances to traverse, and not everything is convenient to transit, but the transit is reasonably comfortable and efficient for a lot of purposes (going downtown, for example), particularly when combined with some judicious ride-sharing. There's plenty of parking everywhere, despite what Angelenos would have you think. Don't try to do too many things in one day, or cross town on the 10, 101 or 405 at anything even resembling rush hour (ie between like seven and ten thirty or three and seven on weekdays). Stick to one area for the day, maybe two.

The Museum of Jurassic Technology This is the best thing in Los Angeles and one of the best things in the world. It is part museum, part art project. To explain it much further might ruin the experience of visiting it, but please take my word that it is one of the most amazing places in the world.

The Watts Towers As the name suggests, they're in Watts, a bit out of the way for some trips, but absolutely without a doubt worth the travel. They're an incredible artwork/building built in a backyard out of rebar, concrete, glass and tile by an illiterate Italian immigrant in the mid-20th century. Worth signing up for a tour, they are cheap (it's a city park) and not all that long. There's also a little gallery on the site. One of the great works of American outsider art and a deeply beloved city treasure.

Other, More Regular Museums LACMA is a world-class art museum. The collection is a bit scattered (and as of this writing a wing is closed for renovation and replacement), but it's really good. It's in Mid-City on the Miracle Mile, and surrounded by other museums. The Petersen Automotive Museum is pretty cool if you're into cars. La Brea Tar Pits are more park than museum, but the museum is fun in a kitschy way, if you're into prehistoric creatures. It's also a nice place to eat lunch. In Exposition Park are a few major museums - the Natural History Museum is pretty good, though not better than others in other major cities (the Field Museum or whatever). The science museum is OK but significantly outclassed by the competition (it's no Exploratorium), though it does have a real space shuttle, which is pretty sweet. The Annenberg Space for Photography does what it says on the label. A good mid-size museum of photographs, check what show is up. The Broad is a nice contemporary art museum in a beautiful building that's right near Walt Disney Concert Hall, also an incredible building. They have a second campus in Little Tokyo that's very nice but smaller.

Architectural Stuff The LA Conservancy runs affordable walking tours that take you into some of the most fascinating built environments in LA. The subject matter ranges from Art Deco in downtown to the modern skyscrapers of the 50s through 90s. They're mostly Saturdays, but a few also run on weekdays. Can't recommend them enough if you're up for a couple hours of walking. You can go inside the Bradbury Building and up into the upper floors! It's cool. (The Conservancy also runs screenings in the big movie palaces downtown, which are mostly otherwise closed to the public. Definitely recommend those.) A couple of other architectural highlights: the Hollyhock House is in Barnsdall Park in Los Feliz. It's a restored Frank Lloyd Wright estate willed to the city many years ago that as of relatively recently runs regular tours. Also in the park is the city art museum of LA, which sometimes has some cool shows. Cal Poly Pomona students run tours on Saturdays of the Neutra VDL studio and residences in Silver Lake, which can be combined with a nice walk around the lake and some middle-aged-hipster watching. The Gamble House in Pasadena is an absolutely breathtaking craftsman mansion with a lot of

Griffith Park Griffith Park is one of the largest urban parks in the United States. It has all kinds of stuff within it - the LA Zoo, the Griffith Observatory, some great hiking. It's a great place to spend some time. If you have little kids, they will love Travel Town, a train graveyard/museum that's inside the park (and free!). The zoo is good if you like zoos, though not incredibly great or anything. The Autry Museum of the American West is worth a visit if you're into that kind of thing.

The Grove I know that we talk about The Grove a lot on Jordan, Jesse, Go. Please do not waste your vacation time at the Grove. It's a mall. It's fine. This also applies to the Americana at Brand, which we sometimes talk about because we have talked about the Grove too much. Also a mall. A little nicer than some? I went there when I needed a new power cable for my Surface.

Dodger Stadium Look, I am a Giants fan and hate the Dodgers, but if you are a baseball fan, Dodger Stadium is a great place to watch a baseball game. Even I can admit that. Angel Stadium is about as generic as it gets, but if you go on a weekday you can take a train from Union Station in LA.

The Getty Center The Getty Center is a beautiful building on a breathtaking piece of real estate. It's pretty cool to visit, but be aware that most of the art is pretty early, so if you don't like busts or paintings of feasts and stuff from the bible, then it might not be your jam art-wise. And getting up there is a whole thing. That said: it really is a beautiful building and an incredible view, so you probably won't feel like it's a waste. And if you like busts, then get your ass over there.

Downtown Stuff I will again recommend the LA Conservancy's walking tours to get a flavor of downtown LA, which is very walkable and full of incredible stuff. The main library is a beautiful edifice, the history of which is detailed in Susan Orlean's The Library Book. Worth wandering around in. Grand Central Market is a great place to get a bite, though pretty bougie at this point. Right next to Grand Central Market is Angel's Flight, a block-long funicular that is a lot of fun and costs next to nothing. Besides this, there are still functional specialized commercial districts in downtown LA. The flower district is particularly fun - the big flower market opens early for wholesale sales but is open to the public and there are tons of stores selling silk and artificial flowers which are very fun to wander through. There are also areas with stores specializing in selling imported toys, store fixtures (a favorite of mine), jewelry and fabric. Most of the fabric is kinda garbage honestly but there is a good tailor supply store called B. Black and Sons and a great hat making store (worth visiting even if you don't make hats) called California Millinery Supply. FIDM also has a thrift store with cheap fabric leftover from LA-based factories.

Movies The Arclight is a fancy movie chain, and the Hollywood location (near Amoeba Records) is also the home of the Cinerama Dome, which is pretty fun. The Vista is a great single-screen theater on the east side. There are some great rep houses on the west side - check your local listings.

Comedy Stuff The UCB has a few great shows every night at both locations. It's hard to go wrong, though you should be aware you will be seeing things that are a little rougher than whatever makes it to your town as a road show. The signature improv show is Asssscat, which is absolutely as good as it gets. Dynasty Typewriter (right by our office) has a lot of great shows these days. A great standup show is Hot Tub at the Virgil. The big comedy clubs have pretty comedy-club-y comedy in them, not necessarily what I'd recommend, though you will certainly see a lot of relatively big names doing sets. The Improv Lab sometimes has MaxFun-adjacent headliners who've put together their own lineups, as does Flappers in Burbank. Largo has bigger-name shows of this variety as well, and if you go see a show there headlined by a Sarah Silverman or Patton Oswalt, the lineup will likely be packed with their pals, even if they aren't advertised.

Some Places To Eat This is NOT a comprehensive list. First: Jonathan Gold died a few years ago, but he is still the king of LA food. Anything he recommended in the Weekly or Times is still the gold standard (no pun intended). He was also a wonderful writer and a champion of foodways that are unfamiliar to many in LA, much less outside LA. If you are a food nerd, KCRW's Good Food is a superb local food show (and podcast) produced by Nick Liao, who used to work at MaxFun.

Philipe's The French Dip A restaurant that's been around for literally a century, with sawdust on the floor, big jars of pickled eggs, ladies in hairnets and really tasty French Dips. They have competing claims to having invented them but the other competitor turned into one of those goofy sleeve-garter-barman subway tile exposed lightbulb places about ten years ago. Philipe's is totally for real and great.

Pie N Burger This is just a burger place in Pasadena that sells classic SoCal-style burgers and is really great. Cash only, though.

Langer's The only one of the Jewish delis in LA that's really worth a special trip. The #19 (pastrami, cole slaw and swiss on rye) is truly one of the world's greatest foods. Pastrami here is better than anywhere else I've ever eaten, including those famous delis in New York.

Park's BBQ 

One of many great Korean BBQ restaurants in LA, but the only one recommended to me personally by Jonathan Gold. (I also like Soot Bull Jeep, which barbeques over charcoal and will leave you smelling like smoke, and Hae Jang Chong for all-you-can-eat.) (There are LOTS of different kinds of Korean food, but I am not an expert on the soups and blood sausages and bibimbaps and etc., but if you're adventurous, you could eat a different Korean food at a different spot every month in LA and make out well.)

Guelagetza Oaxacan food is one of the best kinds of food in the world, and Guelagetza is an LA institution that serves good-quality Oaxacan food. Moles, tlayudas, queso fundido. If you've never eaten any of this stuff, a couple of chicken moles are a great place to start (as is Guelagetza).

Dim Sum You can drive all the way to the San Gabriel Valley and eat at one of the many wonderful dim sum places there. That's where the best stuff is. If it's not worth a special trip to you, I like a place called Lunasia in Pasadena, and they also serve dim sum for dinner. Not a HUGE menu but good food.

Mozza This pizzeria, now a sort of group of restaurants, is an unimpeachably excellent Fancy Meal in LA. So (per my producer Kevin) are the other restaurants run by the same chef, Nancy Silverton.

The Dal Rae This is an old-timey fancy restaurant in Pico Rivera, a semi-industrial part of LA. It's just a great place to wear a suit to and eat Clams Casino. Famous for their table-made Caesar salad (legit great) and pepper steak (too peppery for me). Generally the food is excellent in a 1955 sort of way.

Bludsoe's Best Texas-style barbeque I've had outside of Texas. Used to be a window down by the airport, now a fancier place on La Brea, but I'm told the food is just as good at the fancy place.

Pupusas I love to eat pupusas. Maybe my favorite food. I really like to eat pupusas at Los Molcajetes on Hoover in Westlake (near Koreatown). Note they are weirdly big here (a regional variation of some kind) and they only take cash. (Note also this is one of 10,000 restaurants in LA named Los Molcajetes.)  I also sometimes eat at a nice sit-down Salvadoran place called Las Cazuelas on Figueroa in Highland Park.

In N Out In N Out is good! It will not change your life! But it is very tasty, especially for a $4 food! Some people complain about the fries, which are fresh-cut and fried only once and thus are less crispy on the outside and fluffy on the inside than some others! I think they are fine! Try In N Out, why not! But maybe don't make a whole special trip to do so!

Tacos and Other SoCal Mexican Food Stuff Everyone has their own favorite taco places, and none of my favorites are so special they should be destinations. They are mostly my favorites because they are close to my home and work. But I can tell you that I like to get sit-down Mexican-American food at La Abeja on Figueroa in LA, where I eat a lot of carne adovada and enchiladas and sometimes albondigas or breakfast. I also really like to eat carne en su jugo at Carnes Asadas Pancho Lopez on Pasadena in Lincoln Heights. I eat tacos from Tacos La Estrella on York in Highland Park or the truck (with no name) across from the Mexican consulate on Park View at sixth in Westlake. At night I sometimes get cheap tacos (I like buche) from the place that opens up on Pasadena at Avenue 37. I like the shrimp and fish tacos at Via-Mar on Figueroa. I like Huaraches from Huaraches Azteca on York. The burritos at Yuca’s in Los Feliz (or Pasadena) are great, though they are totally different from the SF-style burritos that I grew up eating. I sometimes get nachos at Carnitas Michoacan on Broadway in Lincoln Heights, which feature meat and cheese sauce and are gross but also really, really good.  I have also eaten at the very fancy Mexican restaurant Border Grill and to be honest it is really good even though the interior feels a little like a cross between a fancy restaurant in 1989 and a Chili's.

El Coyote This is a famous Mexican-American restaurant from the early part of the 20th century, but you shouldn't go there because the food sucks.

Stores I Like This is going to be REAL subjective, but a few stores I like which sell the kinda stuff you'd expect me to want. &etc - A great (small) antique store at 1913 Fremont in Pasadena. The Last Bookstore - A downtown bookstore that is the closest thing to a "destination" book store in LA. Good selection and reasonable prices on used books, and a nice art book room. (Records as well, but they're not very good.) Gimme Gimme Records - I like this record store in Highland Park. You'll pay retail here, but reasonable retail, and the selection (while not immense) is really excellent. Good stuff in all genres.

Secret Headquarters - One time at this small comics store in Silver Lake the lady at the counter asked if I was Jesse from Jordan Jesse Go and they won my business forever in that moment. Don Ville - My friend Raul makes and sells shoes (and repairs them!) in the northern part of Koreatown. If you have the dough, get him to make you some shoes! The Bloke - A really great little menswear store in Pasadena. Sells cool (expensive) trad-ish brands like Drake's and Hilditch & Key and Alden. The Good Liver - A beautiful shop in Little Tokyo specializing in perfect home goods. The perfect scissors, the perfect dish towel and so forth. Some things are expensive, some aren't. H Lorenzo Archive - The "outlet" shop of a designer clothing store on the west side. Discounts aren't huge, but the selection is really interesting, and they have a good collection of one of my favorite brands, Kapital. Sid Mashburn - Excellent classic clothing shop on the west side. Suit Supply & Uniqlo - if you haven't got these where you live, they're the places I usually send people for reasonably-priced tailored clothes (Suit Supply) and cheap basics (Uniqlo). Olvera Street - This is an old-timey tourist attraction, a street of folks selling Mexican handcrafts (and their Chinese-made analogs). Right near Union Station and Philipe's, and a great place to buy factory-made huaraches (the shoes, not the food). They even have sizes big enough for me, which is pretty much impossible to find in Mexico or most Mexican-American shoe stores. Thrift Stores - I go to a lot of thrift stores but if I told you which ones you might buy something I would have bought so I'm not going to tell you which thrift stores.

Flea Markets You may know I am at the flea market every weekend. The good fleas are on Sundays, and there's one every week. First Sunday of the month is Pasadena City College, a big (and free) market with pretty reasonable pricing. PCC has a pretty big record section in addition to the regular flea market stuff. Second weekend is the famous Rose Bowl flea, which is HUGE and has a big new goods section (blech) and vintage clothing area (good!). Third weekend is Long Beach Airport, which is a great overall show. Fourth is Santa Monica airport, which is smaller and a little fancier but very nice. The Valley flea is also fourth Sundays, at Pierce College, and that's not huge but sometimes surprises me. With all of these, the earlier you can arrive, the better you'll do (not least for weather reasons). I usually try to get there around 7:30 or 8:00. The Rose Bowl in particularl is a 4-6 hour operation if you do most of it. There are also a lot of swap meets - I don't know enought to recommend any in particular, but these are much more about tube socks and batteries and bootleg movies than antiques and collectibles. Still can be fun, though, and are certainly a proud SoCal tradition. (The Silverlake Flea and the Melrose Trading Post are garbage, don't go there.)

Going to the Beach I'm not a huge beach goer, but by all means go to the beach if that's your thing. The Annenberg Community Beach House in Santa Monica is a great place to base your operation, though you have to arrive in the morning on busy days to get a parking spot.

Kid Stuff I mentioned Travel Town, that's pretty great. Kidspace in Pasadena is a very good children's museum. The Bob Baker Marionette Theater is a great place to see a marionette show straight out of 1966. There's a good aquarium in Long Beach though it's a bit nutty there on weekends, and the zoo in Griffith Park is a good zoo. I really like Descanso Gardens, a big botanical garden northeast of LA. Huntington Gardens is also very nice, though it's much more expensive and hotter.

Geography Los Angeles is BIG. I'd say try to spend each of your days within about a sixth of it, geographically. It's entirely possible to do west side and east side stuff on the same trip, but don't try to do them on the same day. Look at a map and look at driving times when you're planning. Neighborhoods in LA are BIG, geographically speaking, don't assume two things in the same neighborhood are an easy walk. There aren't a ton of urban neighborhoods suitable for wandering in the way there are in some places. A few manageable general areas for stuff you might like: Silverlake/Los Feliz/Echo Park, Koreatown, Highland Park, downtown, Little Tokyo and the Arts District. (I live in the northeast part of town, and don't spend much time on the west side, which is one reason why this list focuses more on east side stuff. Some folks like West Hollywood and Venice on the west side. Long Beach and Pasadena are both neat towns with their own thing going on that might be worth a visit, too.)

Books & Media The Great Los Angeles Book is probably City of Quartz, a socialist-leaning history of LA. I really loved Susan Orlean's The Library Book, which is about the library as an institution, but also specifically the LA central library and the mysterious fire that nearly destroyed it. And a wild guy named Charles Lummis who was one of the founding fathers of LA culture and was really something else. (You can visit his house - it's right off the 110 near Highland Park.) An LA movie I love is The Long Goodbye, which is sort of a predecessor/inspiration for The Big Lebowski. A shaggy mystery directed by Altman where Elliott Gould just sort of wanders around LA. Another really cool one is Los Angeles Plays Itself, a long (long!) film essay about the ways the real Los Angeles has been used to create fictional worlds in film over the decades.

TV Tapings I'm not an expert in TV tapings. I can say that I've been to a few Conan tapings, and while it takes a LOOOOONG time to get in there, the show is fun to watch live. This is generally true of talk shows and most game shows, which tape more or less as-live. Sitcoms take WAY longer than you were expecting them to. Make sure to try to book tickets early if you have something you want to see. No matter what it's a most-of-the-day thing.

Nightlife Is a word that describes evening activities - especially dance clubs. I am old and don't know about these things.

The Magic Castle I can't get you in, please don't ask me to. I went a couple times. It's fine. If you're not into magic you're not missing too much. If you are, then obviously, it's a priority.

The Walk of Fame and Hollywood Not recommended, not worth it, don't bother.

Disneyland Why would you want my opinion about Disneyland? It's Disneyland. You're in or you're out.

San Diego If you happen to plan a side trip to San Diego, you can take the Amtrak there, and it is a breathtakingly beautiful and exceedingly pleasant trip. I have no San Diego expertise to impart beyond that, however.