#i can’t do yogurt but i know that’s a popular one too

[marypsue]

Sneak Peek Sunday, and this one's original fiction! Have a chunk of the ominous homoerotic makeover scene from Fearleading Squad.

...

Tiffany, unsurprisingly, turned out to be stubbornly persistent in evading Avery’s questions. When Avery asked how long Tiffany’d been cheerleading, while Tiffany was stirring together some kind of concoction of yogurt and oatmeal, Tiffany made Avery let her smear the goo all over her face instead of answering. When Avery asked whether any of the boys in town had caught Tiffany’s eye and why, despite being maybe the most desired person in the high school’s history, she hadn’t been on a million dates already, Tiffany’d just said she didn’t like being told what to do, and then asked Avery to pick out a movie. As Molly Ringwald handed over a pair of her panties on the huge TV screen (Tiffany hadn’t had Friday the 13th or Sleepaway Camp, and she’d never even heard of The Stuff), Avery had awkwardly tried a new tactic.

“God, I don’t even get why you like this movie,” she said, trying to watch Tiffany’s face without looking like she was watching Tiffany’s face. It was already hard enough to tell what Tiffany was thinking, the layer of quickly-hardening oatmeal-yogurt goop only made her expressions all the more inscrutable. “You must think Sam’s just pathetic. I bet nobody’s ever forgotten your birthday.”

It took Tiffany a long moment to answer. Avery was just starting to think she wouldn’t when she said, “You might be surprised. Hey, I think these masks might be ready to come off. Mine’s cracking.”

Avery dutifully paused the movie and followed her back upstairs to wash off the oatmeal masks. But she wasn’t going to be dissuaded so easily, this time. “Seriously? But you’re so pretty, so popular, so involved with everything. Everybody likes you.” She couldn’t stop herself from adding, “Or at least they pretend they do.”

Tiffany laughed, at that. It wasn’t her usual mocking, bell-like, I-don’t-even-have-to-care laughter. It sounded closer to unhappy. “That’s true.”

She beamed at Avery, and then grabbed the glass she’d filled with ice cubes from the fridge’s icemaker before they’d come up to her bedroom. “But that’s why I’m glad you’re here. Why I’m so happy you’re finally coming around. I think you and I could be real friends.”

It was all part of the act, and Avery knew it. Still, she found it hard to swallow around a sudden, prickly ball of guilt.

She reminded herself, again, of what she was doing this for. Who she was doing this for. Her real friends.

Still, the words tasted bitter on her tongue. “It’s shocked me to my core, but…you know, I think maybe we could, too. If we can expand your taste in music out into movies. I can’t believe you’ve never seen the Rocky Horror Picture Show. What do people even do for fun out in L.A.?”

Tiffany’s smile went a little thin. But she hid whatever had just flashed through her mind well.

“My parents used to be…pretty strict,” she said, and delicately selected one of the ice cubes from the glass. “You know. Religious. Hold still and shut your eyes, this is going to be cold.”

“Not surprised they wanted to keep you out of trouble. Isn’t Los Angeles the gang violence capital of the USA?” Avery couldn’t resist prodding. And then, as Tiffany reached forward with the ice cube, “Wait, what the hell are you planning to do with that?”

“Everybody knows that violence begins at home,” Tiffany said, smarmily putting on a breathlessly earnest, sincere tone, like some kind of moral crusader eager to get Avery to open her heart and her wallet to the cause. She even opened those blue eyes as wide as they’d go and gave her impossible lashes an innocent bat, before grabbing Avery’s shoulder to stop her from shifting backwards into the vanity. “The ice works as a toner. It helps close up your pores so you don’t get shit in them. Do it before you moisturise and it keeps you from breaking out.”

Avery shut her eyes and braced herself against the shock of cold as Tiffany rubbed the ice cube all over her freshly-washed face. Another shiver ran through her. If all beauty treatments felt this weirdly good, maybe she could start to understand why other girls bothered.

“I can’t believe you know the Rocky Horror Picture Show and not this,” Tiffany said. “What did you and that other cheerleader even talk about?”

“Courtney was the one who introduced me to Rocky Horror,” Avery said. The shock of cold she was feeling was suddenly not just from the ice cube. “Hey, do you still talk to her much? She’s been really cagey with me since she left the cheer squad. Do you have any idea why?”

Tiffany didn’t answer. She just finished rubbing the ice cube over Avery’s face, dragging it up along her cheekbones and smoothing it across her forehead towards her temples. There was a clink as she dropped it back into the glass, and then something soft battered gently against Avery’s face. “Pat that dry, and then we moisturise.”

Avery dutifully patted her face dry with the thing Tiffany’d thrown in her face, which she realised when she opened her eyes was a red terry facecloth. “Do you two not like each other or something?”

The look Tiffany gave her said, loud and clear, that she knew Avery was trying to give her a taste of her own medicine. And she thought it tasted pretty foul.

But she didn’t call Avery’s bluff. Just dabbed a little cold cream onto Avery’s freshly-toned nose with two fingers.

“You wanted to know why I don’t date,” she said, as she massaged the cream into Avery’s cheeks with the very tips of her slim fingers. Avery didn’t have to be told, this time, to shut her eyes. “And honestly, it’s partly because, I mean, have you seen the dating pool around here? Because I think every last one of these boys is swimming in the shallow end.”

Avery couldn’t resist a snort. Tiffany smacked her shoulder with the flat of one hand. “Hold still.”

Avery sat up a little straighter on the plush-topped vanity stool, tilting her face up to follow Tiffany’s gentle guiding hand under her chin. “Yeah. The water’s a little stagnant.”

She couldn’t be sure, with her eyes closed, but Avery thought that one had got her a hastily-suppressed snort in return.

“Maybe this is going to sound a little selfish,” Tiffany said, putting the cold cream back on the vanity with a little click and picking up a plastic powder case shaped like a seashell and a satin-bow-topped powder puff. Avery braced herself for something that was going to sound a lot selfish. “But right now, people are interested in me. They want my attention. They want to know my beauty secrets. They want to get invited to one of my parties. They care about what I think, what I wear, what I say, what I like – and who I don’t like.”

“Bet that feels powerful,” Avery said, more to herself than anything. But Tiffany obviously heard her. And smiled beatifically.

“More than you could imagine.” She reached out and patted Avery’s cheek. Avery tried to recoil, suddenly disgusted, but Tiffany just rubbed the fingers she’d patted Avery’s cheek with against her thumb. “Hm. Think that’s absorbed enough now to start with makeup. Shut your eyes again. And quit wriggling.”

Avery dutifully froze in place. She shut her eyes only reluctantly.

The featherlight touch of the powder puff against her forehead nearly made her jump off the stool. She took a deep breath, and gripped the stool’s underside with both hands.

Tiffany didn’t seem to notice. Or pretended she didn’t notice. “But if I picked one of these duds and let him take me out on a date, then – that’s it. Nobody cares about me anymore. It’s all about him. And, even if I dump his loser ass, then it just becomes all about who comes after him. It’s all ‘who gets the girl’. I’m nothing but some – some trophy that some boy gets to brag about winning, that they all get to pass around. And all that power? It just goes straight to him.”

She patted powder over Avery’s cheeks and chin. “Just like with Sam and the panties. Give them an inch, decide that just because they’re being nice, you can trust them, let your guard down for a second, and they’ll ruin your whole life. Just to prove they can.”

Avery didn’t know what to say to that. She’d been expecting – something shallower. Stupider. More ‘I’m better than all of you and nobody here is good enough for me’. And oh, boy, was that ever something she could hear in Tiffany’s little diatribe. But…

She couldn’t help remembering the glitter of broken glass on concrete, the rage and disgust on Tiffany’s face. I’m supposed to be in control.

[yukidragon]

I was curious about whether the bad yogurt combo could possibly shed some more specific light on Joseph’s traumatic past.

Like maybe coffee was constantly used to keep him alert for long hours while being overworked on learning lines, maybe the rum sauce reminded him of using alcohol to cope (potentially even past alcoholism? He had to remind himself he was ‘clean now’ and could be whoever he wanted to be).

Maybe the cashews reminded him of snacking on packets of nuts when he didn’t get enough time for a proper meal break. (Though art shows it was donuts being held in his mouth while busy reading lines.) Nuts are also served at bars alongside alcohol.

Also Ian apparently liked cashews on pizza… I have no idea how Jackseph could possibly even know that but perhaps it briefly crossed Sunshine’s mind while making Jack his yogurt. I can’t imagine he would have liked that.

Ps. I love your in-depth interpretations and discussions on Jack. I like digging into interactions and lore.

Aww, thank you so much! Reading that made me very happy.

I think your thoughts are very insightful. Nuts are a pretty popular pairing to alcohol, which is often used as a drug of choice for coping with stressful situations, much like Joseph's cigarettes. Coffee could be argued as another drug due to the effects of caffeine, though a more benign one. With the bags he had under his eyes and how tired he was in some of the teaser art, it does seem like he would need that pick-me-up to make it through the day.

While I find the reference to Ian with the cashews to be very interesting, especially when they're part of the worst yogurt combination... I don't think that's related to the trauma response. Really, it might just be another deliberate parallel between Ian and Joseph that's being drawn in the story.

When you get down to it, Ian and Joseph have a lot of similarities. They're both actors, they both want love, they both want MC specifically, they're both friends with MC, and they both have been given the role of Sunny Day Jack. I suspect that there's going to be deliberate echoes in Ian's story that relates to Joseph's and how badly that ended. The cashews might be another hint at that.

Interestingly enough, combining caffeine and alcohol is actually really bad for you. As I recall from an episode of Food Theory, caffeine dilates the arteries to increase blood flow and makes the alcohol concentration in the blood increase to dangerous levels. This combination has led to people being hospitalized or even dying. It's not exactly the best combination for one's health, but some people do it anyway despite the risks.

Sadly, sometimes people get addicted to things that are dangerous and unhealthy due to stress or other factors. The entertainment industry is absolutely rife with stories of substance abuse, and I suspect, sadly, Joseph was among those who dabbled in various kinds of drugs.

It's entirely possible that Joseph could've even been pressured to partake in addictive drugs like alcohol, smoking, or even illegal drugs because of social pressure. It's sadly an all too common problem, especially when in a situation where a person feels they must conform to the group or risk being outed from it.

Joseph was homeless and struggling to get by before he joined the SunnyTime Crew Show. He apparently had no love as a kid and rebelled, maybe even falling in with a group that smoked and did awful things just to fit in. It's entirely possible that he is especially susceptible to peer pressure just on the off chance of being loved.

Sadly... this is even reflected in the present. Jack will be whatever MC wants him to be. He makes that clear. He'll give them whatever they want. If they asked him to do something... he'll probably do it, even if reluctantly, if it means they'll love him, need him, and won't forget him...

Jack might be clean now, and he might want to stay that way, but he's desperate enough to get his hands dirty with blood in order to keep his sunshine... so who knows how far he'll go just to be loved?

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur

[nickmaghighlights]

Nick Mag Highlights - #20 April 1996

Greetings and various apropos felicitations. Once again it’s time for another issue of Nick Mag Highlights! Today we’ll be heading back to the 90’s and taking a trip through issue #20. Ready to see if this “Mega Movie Issue'' is really as mega as it says? Then let’s get on with the show!

Man, that cover is a blast from the past for me, and it might just be the same for some of you. I haven't seen the film adaptation of James and The Giant Peach ever since I was a kid. I forget how I even first experienced it, since I couldn’t have seen it in theaters and I never owned a physical copy. I think a babysitter put it on for me once. 

Whatever the case, despite the time it's been I can still envision a smattering of visuals and emotions from the experience. So it must’ve been good if it’s managed to still stick with me positively all these years later. I guess a grade-a art style and memorable visuals will do that for a film. So as shallow as these behind-the-scenes “previews” tend to be when it comes to Nick Magazine, I’m still excited to go down memory lane and hopefully gleam one or two cool bits of trivia. 

Beyond my nostalgia bias though I’ve gotta say I’m surprised by the lack of promises this cover is making. A preview of James and The Giant Peach and a “Special Flip Book” is all you’ve got to wow the proverbial audience here, Nick? Even issue #1 promised more content on its cover to grab your attention if Ren & Stimpy weren’t enough for you. Let’s hope 20 issues in they weren’t starting to struggle for content.

You can read along too, if that’s what you wanna do. The issue’s right here.

Alright, go ahead and roll your eyes, but I’ve got a thing or two to say about this Cheetos ad. Or rather, “Chee●tos”, as it's called here and would be titled as such until Frito-Lays dropped the hyphen from the name in 1998. Not the worst name change, if I’m being honest.

First off, let’s just bask in the moment for a second. This is a wacky snack from the 90’s, even a “spinoff snack”, if you will, of a still very popular snack brand… that hasn’t been brought back to capitalize on nostalgia! 

Yes, Cheesy Checkers have yet to return to shelves since their discontinuation in ‘98. Suffice to say, I’m stunned. In a world where Ecto-Cooler returned from the grave, Trix Yogurt is still readily available, Boo Berry, Count Chocula and all those other monster-themed cereals manifest themselves every Halloween, and the McRib seems to come back whenever the heck it feels like, Cheetos Cheesy Checkers of all things is barred from re-entry into the mainstream to take advantage of your sorely missed childhood. 

Guess they really just weren’t popular enough? You can’t capitalize on nostalgia if there’s no nostalgia to capitalize on, after all. And yet it seems like a foolproof idea for a snack if you ask me. Waffles and waffle fries have already proven that checkerboard patterns are naturally delicious. And on top of that it even had a rad commercial featuring an awesome Chester Cheetah puppet. What’s not to like? I guess 33% more cheese is crossing the line of “Dangerously Cheesy” into something more like… “Hazardously Cheesy”.

Oh, and by the way. I may have never had a bag of Cheesy Checkers, but I sincerely doubt the snack pieces were that big. You really want me to believe one checker is nearly 1/3rd the size of this magazine page? They don’t even look that big in the commercial.

Just like the cover said, this is indeed a movie-themed issue. And I’ve got good news regarding this: I actually know about movies! Well, I like movies, anyway. Okay, I know more about movies than I do about music, which should mean my dissection of the content at hand will be a little more thoughtful than my retrospective of the music-based issue from last time. Hopefully, anyway.

Can’t help but feel these jokes are trying a little too hard. I guess when you’ve got to come up with twenty and base them all off of movies and TV shows, it can’t be easy. It probably doesn’t help either that there’s only like, three or four good puns in the whole world to begin with.

Anyway, look. Bugs Bunny in Nickelodeon Magazine. Woah.

Well, it’s a little less surprising for those, ahem, in the know. 

Nickelodeon actually aired Looney Tunes shorts for more than ten years, from 1988 to 1999. Once Warner Bros. established their new kids’ entertainment channel, Cartoon Network, they were pretty quick to take back their old school cartoons to bolster their numbers a bit. Although even following the departure of the classic Looney Tunes, Nickelodeon would go on to license other Warner Bros. content for their channel in the following years, airing shows such as Animaniacs and Tiny Toon Adventures in the early 2000s.

Oh, how convenient! Now I can prove my film expertise by trouncing this quiz and- 

Hey! Some kid already answered two of the questions. Well now there’s no point in doing the quiz now. Its sanctity has been compromised.

But yeah, this book’s been written in just a bit. Sorry if that bothers you, but it’s not like I can clean the pages off. I do kinda wish the scan was totally clean just for the sake of archival purposes, but as long as the marks stay minor I’m not too picky. If anything I guess it helps make things a little more interesting. Kinda adds to the whole “time capsule” aspect of it, doesn’t it?

Shouldn’t be an issue so long as it’s not-

Ah, criminy! The kid got me again! Now this is stepping over the line. Answering a quiz question or two is one thing, but completely solving the hidden pictures puzzle promoting the home video release of Babe? That sours my mood. I don’t even feel like watching Babe now.

This a neat activity: a screenplay for two kids to act out and potentially film like a home movie. It actually caught me off guard with its originality, and in hindsight it seems like a no-brainer. Kids love to play pretend after all, and I know I certainly loved shooting little movies with my family’s cheap digital camera. Well, here kids, we came up with the story for you. Go nuts. Not to mention it's a good excuse to whip up a plate of grilled cheese sandwiches.

Here’s a nifty fun fact for you: The writer of this screenplay activity, David Lewman, has basically been on Nickelodeon’s speed dial since the 90’s. He’s written tons of Nickelodeon tie-in books, spanning a bunch of different franchises including SpongeBob SquarePants, Jimmy Neutron, Rugrats, among many others. If you’ve read a SpongeBob book before, I say look him up. There’s a good chance you were reading something of his. 

Kind of nice of them to make a whole game out of their adspace, eh? I mean, I’m guessing the amount of people who played isn’t particularly high, but… uh… The art is cool!

Speaking of the art, you never see these mascots in 2D anymore. Which I find unfortunate because I think they look a lot cuter and tolerable here.  

Also wow, you can see the orange and brown candies before their designs were finalized. Or before their transitions, either or. Very proud of them regardless!

Pretty awesome article here about some of the gimmicks that filmmakers tried out during the black-and-white days of cinema. Love a bit of history alongside my Nickelodeon.

While we’re here, I’d like to contribute my own similar black-and-white movie gimmick factoid that I find amusing:

In 1961, a film called Mr. Sardonicus featured a gimmick called the “Punishment Poll”, where each audience member was given a card to decide the fate of the titular villain, Mr. Sardonicus, by either showing the side of their card with a thumbs-up or thumbs-down on it right before the end of the film. Once the total was tallied, the theater was supposed to show the ending with the most votes.

The funny part is that the movie only has one ending. The gimmick was just a total lie and the only ending filmed was the one with the negative outcome for Mr. Sardonicus, so I guess the director was pretty confident that potential audiences would mostly be comprised of sadists that want to see a bad guy get his comeuppance. 

Speaking of the director, Mr. Sardonicus just so happened to be directed by a mister William Castle, who also directed four out of the six films listed in the magazine article here. Guess those gimmicks really were good for profits.

Imagine watching a whole movie while sitting in a pool. Now stop imagining! I don’t like that very much. Your eyelids would prune shut before you could even see the ending. 

Man, all these movie gimmicks and funky types of theaters is making me wish I was around when movies were more of an event. Y’know? The movie theater experience has pretty much been ironed out at this point, so the idea of watching the big screen outside or with the looming possibility of a big plastic skeleton popping out and waving around is particularly alluring. Take note, modern movie theaters, this may be your way of competing with streaming!

What? No, it doesn’t bother me at all that whoever owned this magazine already filled out this Sanrio quiz advertisement. Why would I be ENRAGED and UPSET about that!?!? IT'S NOT EVEN A BIG DEAL!!

… Anyway this ad is weird. I guess they didn't know how to market Sanrio in the west yet*. Cause I'm not exactly the most familiar but I'm pretty confident blaring red and yellow colors and funky multicolor Wow! text isn't exactly befitting of the Sanrio spirit. Also there's not really any point to the quiz. It's not like you can mail in your answers and get a free Hello Kitty lunchbox or something. I guess they just figured that kids love quizzes and will always jump at the opportunity to do them, circling the correct responses in permanent pen ink, and causing them to not consider the possibility that someoNE MIGHT WANT TO READ THE MAGAZINE AD AFTER THEM AND WOULD WANT IT MAINTAINED IN PEAK CLEANLINESS FOR THE SAKE OF THE SANCTITY OF THEIR ONLINE BLOG i must calm myself.

*Which is weird to me, because Hello Kitty feels like one of those characters who’s always been popular. Like Mickey Mouse or Steven Spielburg.

Don’t mind me, just gonna insert this contest page here so that if I ever do the issue that contains the actual responses, I can link back to here and go full circle. Pretty excited to someday see the responses! I wonder what they could be. I also wonder why you had to include a phone number with your response. Maybe Tommy Pickles congratulated you on the phone? 

Okay, so I think this issue might be missing pages. I can’t prove that exactly, considering I don’t have the real thing sitting in front of me, but the way this ad has text that’s oddly cut off on the right side leads me to believe this was a two page spread originally. Maybe not, maybe the magazine was really like this and it's a printing error, maybe they spilled juice on the design document for page two and couldn’t fix it in time for publishing. 

Whatever the case, I really wish I had that Aaahh!!! Real Monsters hat.

A rather understated cover for this edition of The Comic Book, and I can appreciate it. Simple and effective bit of zaniness with a spin on the old “fake-can-with-a-scary-thing-that-pops-out-when-you-open-it” gag. This comes to us from award-winning illustrator Jim Woodring, who’s got probably one of the nicest websites of any artist I’ve mentioned on this blog so far, so kudos. I took a look through his gallery, and it’s a lovely trip, so go take a look if you want some eye candy.

Been a while since we’ve last seen the Southern Fried Fugitives on this blog, one of Nick Magazine’s earliest recurring comic series. Unfortunately they’re not exactly in top form here, I’d say, even as someone who’s not the biggest fan of the comic to begin with. This is essentially a bit of filler so they could make their deadline and finish up the next “all new real adventure” that this episode tells you of at the end. I mean, I get it, this comic usually spanned a full three or four pages, I’m sure they took quite a bit of time. I just don’t really appreciate being shown a gross naked stitched up chicken. 

A great hidden picture puzzle here, I could see kids having a lot of fun with this one and just looking through all the art. I guess my only issue would be that none of the answers are exactly hidden, since almost every figure in the page is related to one of the film titles below. But that’s a small nitpick considering that for just one activity of a much larger publication, it’s still pretty entertaining and eye-catching.

And here we’ve got ourselves what the powers at be call Smudgy and Scribbly. A comic about two inventive robots that I thought were supposed to be pencil erasers at first considering their names. I’m not sure if these abstract little guys ever had more than one or a couple of comics, but I know they didn’t stick around forever, since this is the first time I’m hearing of them. They’re cute! They’re fun! They don’t have a lot of personality per se, but that’s okay, because they eat fruit cocktails. And that’s a lesson for the kids.

I’ve been really impressed with this issue so far! They’ve really been making the most of the movie theme, what with aforementioned stuff like the quality movie gimmick article and the nice hidden picture puzzle. And to top it all off now we’ve even got an interview with Siskel & Ebert, two of the most famous film critics of all time. I’m not even sure how many kids at the time would appreciate this sort of thing, but whoever did must’ve been pretty happy. Said interview was conducted about three years before Siskel’s incredibly unfortunate passing, and three years after being parodied in an episode of Doug.

Anyway, yeah the interview questions are really silly, but that’s pretty par for the course by now. I just think it’s just cool they’re even in an issue of Nickelodeon Magazine at all.

Talking about the calendar included with each issue has become a bit of a tradition for this blog by now, hasn’t it? Although I’m sure I probably forgot to mention it one time. Overall this one’s not bad, it’s chock-full of facts and the little set-up & punchline at the Charlie Chaplin section is a ‘lil funny. And I think it’s sort of themed around artisans, maybe? Well worth being pinned on your bedroom door if you ask me, the only problem is that you’d also be ripping out a page of the Siskel & Ebert interview that’s printed on the back of this. At least the kid who wrote all over the magazine showed some restraint there.

Oh come on… I spoke too soon about showing restraint. The kid ripped out the flip book! What a trick… now I’ll never know what it looks like. At least we have the instructions here, which also could be doubly used for instructions on how to make your own flipbook by following the format, which is cool. Sorry for anyone who clicked on this post because you wanted to see the flipbook specifically. Sorry to you.

Moving past a five page article about the history of movies and movie effects (which is solid but doesn’t have much for me to say about), we now come across the cover story: James and the Giant Peach. And this is an alright interview, but it’s especially good  for Nickelodeon Magazine! The questions for the film’s director, Henry Selick (director of The Nightmare Before Christmas and Coraline, among others), actually allow for some pretty nice informative detail regarding the process of stop-motion animation and how aspects of it work. For an interview intended for kids, this is great, especially for ones with an interest in the medium.

Interviews, interviews, and more interviews! If you’ve ever wanted to learn all that you could ever want to know Kenan & Kel, these are the pages for you. It’s nice to hear that apparently these guys were good friends off set, I guess. But y’know it’s never really bothered me finding out that seemingly inseparable co-stars actually aren’t best friends in real life like it does for a lot of people, I can still watch MythBusters perfectly fine even if I know Adam and Jamie aren’t going to go get drinks together after they finish dropping a car off a mountain for science. Acting’s still a job and I’m not expecting people to become friends just because they both stand in front of the same camera. 

But hey, if K&K really were as good of friends as this magazine says, that’s really cool for them. Pretty lucky too, since this was just mere months away from the premiere of their own All That spinoff show, Kenan & Kel, which ran for four years, and less than a year before the premiere of their own movie, Good Burger*, so being friendly must’ve helped when they were spending that much time together. Not to mention they’re getting back together for Good Burger 2, so I guess when your legacies are so intrinsically tied together, I guess you’re bound to find some things to like about each other.

*One of my favorite comedies by the way, and no I’m not sorry. There’s very few films that match its vibes.

Feels like I should mention the 9th annual Kids’ Choice Awards was just around the corner, which featured such notable moments like Jim Carrey taking home two awards for Ace Ventura and his performance in Batman Forever, alongside Free Willy winning “Favorite Animal Star” for his(?) performance (?) in Free Willy 2: Willy Goes to Chile*. That category in particular got pretty heated, considering he was up against fierce competition in the form of Babe from… Babe. “Gangsta’s Paradise” by Coolio won best song. Although Brandy would beat out both Coolio and Michael Jackson for winner of “Favorite Singer”, so it wasn’t exactly a Coolio sweep, per se.

But of course, the real big winner of that night was Tim Allen, for winning “Favorite TV Actor” and being enacted into the Nickelodeon Hall of Fame (yes, for real). All while Home Improvement won ”Favorite TV Show”, which I find is an outright snubbing of the also nominated Fresh Prince of Bel Air. Again, just my opinion.

*(Okay, it was actually called Free Willy 2: The Adventure Home, but I like my idea more).

Before we go, I’d just like to draw attention to this winner of a parade float idea contest held in a previous issue, finally presented in all its glory here. No offense to the kid who designed it but I can only imagine the type of child nightmares that could spawn from a giant Elvis making its way down the street, pulled along by his Elvis impersonating minions. Just a thought.

This was a really good issue, I’m actually pretty shocked with how much of it I found interesting and entertaining, even now as an adult. They really put their all into this one and I think the movie theme really paid off.

Some parts I didn’t get to were the aforementioned article on the history of film and film effects, which isn’t a bad read, especially if you’re into the good old days of practical effects. 

There was an interview with at-the-time child star Michelle Trachtenberg, to promote the upcoming release of the Nickelodeon film Harriet the Spy, which featured her in the starring role. I partly didn’t talk about it because I didn’t think there was much to say, and partly out of spite because that movie was pretty bad. Also because I’m running out of available image slots on this post. But mainly the first two reasons! Sort of.

Oh, yeah, and that alien mongrel QZ made another appearance, answering kids’ questions and just looking gross as usual. Avoid page 52 at all costs!

So yeah, that’ll do it! I’m glad I got to tackle another 90’s issue. I’ve also been thinking about branching out a bit, maybe talking about other Nickelodeon books, or heck, maybe even doing retrospectives of some of their shows! If anybody’s interested or has any requests (Nickelodeon Magazine related or otherwise), feel free to let me know. Otherwise I’ll just keep using my little spinner board that I use to make all decisions related to this blog. 

Until next time, have a good one, and keep on reading!

[bisluthq]

https://www.tumblr.com/bisluthq/761259745165361152/when-you-were-eating-vegetarian-what-would-you-do?source=share

You actually gave some good advice Nat! I have been an lacto egg vegetarian for idk like 8 years now? Maybe more. In case someone doesn't know what it means, this is kind of most standard version of being a vegetarian. You still eat eggs and dairy, you don't eat meat, fish and seafood which seems to be what anon is going for too.

Tbh if I were just starting to be vegetarian now I would probably be able to eliminate dairy too. When I started, atleast in my country, you had like 2-3 brands of vegetarian food and even abroad it was a lot harder than it is now to find veggie options in supermarkets and restaurants. So I tried the only brand I could find of soy milk to eliminate milk but I kinda hated it. Now you have soo many alternatives. Soy iogurts to me taste just as good as dairy ones. You have tons of options to put on bread if you don't want to eat cheese.

The other reason why I haven't tried to eliminate more is because I sometimes have phases where I struggle to eat. Nothing to do with being vegetarian, but more to my anxiety. I'm not someone who eats a lot too. So trying to cut down sources of protein, in this case, could actually be irresponsible of me because I probably wouldn't compensate in other ways

All of this to say, if you are just cutting down meat and fish and eating dairy and eggs normally you are consuming protein. If you want something to substitute the meat, tofu and soy are very versatile. Tofu doesn't have any taste by itself, but it absorbs flavors so take that any mind and use condimentos. There's a bunch of recipes online you can find with both of these. Soy bologne is great. Lasagne too. You can do kind of a shepperd's pie using soy. There's certains dishes popular in my country I simply turn them vegetarian by using soy or tofu. Tofu works great for salads. I like eating mixed with scrambled eggs too (that's kind of one of my lazy meals) . Another thing I use for lazy meals are tortillas, because they are so versatile. You know when you're in the mood for a pizza but you don't have it? Just use a tortilla to make one, spread ketchup if you don't have tomato and use whatever toppings you have at home (great to get rid of leftovers)

And if you want something premade, there's tons and tons of brands now that do veggie versions of popular food like burguers, nuggets, meatballs etc. It's a bit of a matter of trial and error, because different brands do different types of the same thing and just because you don't like one doesn't mean you don't like none. Let me tell you that as more brands began to emerge I actually became more picky. I'm much more aware of textures and strong condiments, which usually don't go well with my stomach

yea I think all the new products available make it much easier!! I’m not vegetarian rn and certainly not vegan but I actually love milk alternatives (I use almond for coffee and tea and I also love coconut and oat milk) and yogurt alternatives. I don’t have oats often at all but when I do I like it with those too (and muesli but I can’t think when I last ate muesli). I cook with “real” milk mostly because I find the alternatives add funny flavors but I prefer coffee and tea with the alternatives.

also good point on trying all the different brands of the meat alternatives. Some are super fucking weird but some are reaaaally good.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

LMAOAO plot armor saving Otoya’s ass I can’t wait

Man I’m about to go into a Nagi spiral at this rate because his backstory is so deceiving…like he’s got a lot to unpack too shdhsjsjs

SHEHSHS ONE SLAP FROM BAROU AND YOURE DONE Imagine it’s like when they spread their arms (Karasu style) and block people or pressure them and stuff but instead you just go flying because you got smacked by Barou or Shidou….actually I think this would make for a really funny like blooper scene LMAOOOO

If you ever made that story I would be your first reader fr because playing off the reverse harem cliche to throw people off only to reveal the true love interest would be so cool (esp if you kept who it was a secret LOL) I believe you have quite a bit on your to-write list though so maybe in the future sometime

And YEAH LITERALLY Agi spelling it out and I think recently someone else said it too (I can’t remember exactly who it might’ve been Rin or Barou..?? Not sure they mention Reo by name though er) but also I think it’s really funny how after they get back together and start dropping Chigiri becomes the MC poster boy like yes you go Chigiri (I’ll never get over his exchange with Barou in MC vs Ubers where he’s like meowing LMAOOO)

I feel you it’s really the facial hair for me like I KNOW it’s that stubble like….the thing is it’s not even a full clean beard it’s STUBBLE like boy please trim or clean it up a little…also doesn’t help that it truly makes him look like an uncle kinda but I digress…what’s funny is I have a friend who loves Aiku and I think it’s THE STUBBLE that she likes because she also likes Aizawa from MHA so I’m like…it must be the stubble…

Fr the f-boyification has to be the worst it’s everywhere too…I also agree he’s also probably and asshole off field most of the time I can really only see him softening up slightly if he really found someone…and also maybe went to therapy a couple times LMAO

Also that post you reblogged about Kurona so real first poor kurona omg LMAOA getting bulldozed by someone almost a full foot taller than him but also they’re so right that reminds me of when Barou called Hiori Isagi’s dog it’s so funny like

Also…drop that yogurt strawberry bite thing…that lowk sounds good right about now….

-Karasu anon

i think part of it is just because otoya is kinda of a figure instead of a character atm?? like he’s “the ninja” and he’s driving the plot forward but we don’t actually know who he is yet. whereas y/n and karasu’s meeting is lowkey giving meet-cute 😭 like in any other story with a more typical and shy fmc he would be the love interest but unfortunately he’s stuck w hollyhock y/n who’s not either of those things 💔

NAGI SPIRAL YESSS LET’S GO 🤩 i’m always thinking abt…my baby fr 🥹 i think at a surface level he can seem like a boring character but to me he’s just v subtly written which almost makes him more fun than characters that are in your face abt what they’ve gone through

THAT’S WHAT I’M SAYING like a typical foul for the boys is straight up murking you 😭 that one scene in season 1 where barou tackles tokimitsu and chigiri slides in front of him…a female character would be cooked in that situation if i’m being honest 😰 there’s def ways around it but like it’s smth to consider which i don’t think a lot of people do

YES i think it would be so fun especially because i would NOT make one of the itoshi bros the main love interest as is typical (although they would def be “reverse harem” participators) so it would be a surprise for sure. i think a lot of stories that start off as reverse harem but end up focusing on one character tend to go for rin or occasionally sae just because of how popular they are but yk me…i’d never let an itoshi bro win 🙂‍↔️ hehe atm i have my two hiori requests, your requests, another karasu request, hollyhock, and kind of peregrine to work on!! so def a bit busy but one day for sure i’ll try to get to it

i do feel like barou might’ve implied smth like that when nagi asked him why played soccer but my memory is a bit fuzzy (i want to reread the manga at some point but then i also don’t want to know everything that happens going into s2 yk)!! and yes hehe honestly chigiri is slaying i think he’s scored in like every match or smth!! it’s so cool how far he’s come…i’m scared for his leg though i feel like they’ve mentioned how he could re-injure it a few too many times for it to not be brought up again yk?? i’m hoping he at least makes it to the world cup before anything happens though 😩

the stubble is truly such a dividing factor…i can stand it on some characters but smth abt it on aiku truly does not work for me!! i agree it gives heavy uncle vibes 😕 although tbf it is peak teenage boy behavior to try and grow out his facial hair and lowkey fail miserably at it so ig at least it’s in character 😓

THE FBOYIFICATION RUNS RAMPANT IN FANDOM i rlly think it’s almost a wish fulfillment thing/those kinds of characters are easier to write?? in p much every fandom i’ve been in they’ve characterized the guys like that it’s rlly interesting almost because half of the time it doesn’t even make sense?? idk like i won’t hate on anyone for what they choose to write but yk…it’s certainly a choice…a lot of the time it takes away most of what makes the character interesting to me as well so it’s def not my fav thing to see ALL of the time (every once in a while is def ok though!!)

HAHAHA RIGHT IT HAD ME GIGGLING 😭 one of the reblogs said it’s because none of the other strikers have friends and like lowkey yeah 😟 because yk isagi kurona and hiori are just chilling off field there’s not whatever weird ass dynamic rin and nanase have going on 🫣 they truly are just buddies who also understand that there’s more than one way to play soccer?? poor kurona though he did not deserve that 😒 like at least hiori is sassy back and also 6ft tall himself so he can handle his own but kurona is tiny and a sweetheart…side note but his character facts are so cute and him cheering up depressed reo in the epinagi extra scene was adorable 🥹 he seems like such a chill guy

AHH THEY’RE CALLED YOGGIES I THINK?? we get them from costco let me see if i can find a pic. i actually love snacking on them hehe just not putting them in my yogurt. but they’re super delicious!!

^ they look like that!! rlly yummy snack…also personally i care a lot abt food textures and these are nice and chewy without being sticky which i rlly like

[spiderwcd]

sour | b. barnes

pairing: bucky barnes x avenger! reader

summary: you and bucky met on unforgettable terms and have hated each other ever since. of course this doesn’t stop tony putting you together on a mission. will this break the frozen later in each other’s hearts for each other?

word count: 2.6k

warnings: murder, violence, some cursing, mentions of sex, cursing, steamy makeouts,

gif not mine !

you awoke as the same as yesterday, full of hatred towards the world. yet you try to save it everyday with your team. you woke up of course especially hating james buchanan barnes.

ever since we discovered him, you weren’t so fond of his presence. everything and anything he had to do was irritating like a bug bite that won’t to stop needing to be itched. you wanted to strangle him every time he spoke, slap him every time he worked out in front of you, you could of course go on.

you hopped out of the bed in the minimalistic room. you wandered from the mattress towards the attached bathroom. you felt heavy that day, almost sluggish. you huffed out some air from your chest and stared hard in the mirror as you rubbed you sore head. you quickly did your morning routine before becoming any more sick of yourself.

you escaped your small and empty room after changing as soon as you could into the bot so empty one outside. you ended up in the kitchen where natasha and steve were talking. you ignored their presence as you grabbed a cup of coffee and some yogurt from the fridge.

“so, y/n,” natasha began. you perked up your head towards her. “i heard tony might have new missions for us today.” she explained. you shrugged slightly.

“what now?,” you scoffed slightly. “he need us to clean the park?” you rolled your eyes softly as steve chuckled slightly.

“no actually, i heard it was more serious this time,” steve added to our conversation. “heard it was something about spies this time.” your ears perked up and you shot your head up.

“seriously? i bet you tony is gonna bench me again,” you theorized. “he always has it out for me i swear to god.” you grumble.

you take a long sip from your freshly brewed coffee and felt your spirit uplift shortly as you awoke. you felt happier to be awake this time and talking to your friends. that was until bucky entered. you were angry that he walked in without a shirt and dared to wear only a pair of black joggers. you rolled your eyes as you placed your cup of coffee before walking away.

“i’m gonna work out.” you sassed as you quickly left the kitchen before any words could be spoken back.

bucky returned the favor by rolling his eyes back. he knew your hatred towards him. he remembered the day clearly, you were fighting him and he knocked you out and nearly killed you. but steve and natasha saved the day. of course you tried to forget that and become close to him as she was close to her other team members. instead bucky gave her an icy glare and ignored her. so instead of becoming friends, they found it easy to hate each other.

as you disappeared away, bucky scoffed and looked back at the two other people in the kitchen. “i cant believe her, she barely gave me chance and already hating my presence!” bucky ranted as he grabbed a cup of coffee himself.

“well to be fair bucky,” natasha began. “you did give her the cold shoulder when she tried to give you a chance.” she commented.

“yeah but still,” he replied. “that was when i was still brainwashed by hydra. she should know better.”

steve hissed slightly as he reminded him the first date ordeal. it was odd because tony invited everyone to go to his favorite club and y/n found herself a dance partner and as he placed a hand on her waist, bucky showed up and nearly broke the guy’s hand. y/n hated him for ruining her night and she left to get drunk and grumble about how much she hated him.

“oh come on,” bucky blurted. “that guy was making her uncomfortable!” natasha gave him a raised brow before bucky sighed.

“okay maybe i just didn’t want him touching her.”

he couldn’t deny in the end of the day, he had developed a not so small crush on you. he dreamed to even become close to her. he was supposed to be hard and tough and somehow let himself fall for someone who hates him.

before the conversation could go on any longer, tony’s voice came over the intercom as he mentioned the meeting. everyone stopped what they were doing and went to the meeting before tony could argue with them.

everyone grumbled their way to the meeting room and sat in their usual spots next to everyone they usually talked to. you sat next to natasha and wanda per usual wearing your work out clothes.

“i know everyone doesn’t want to be here,” tony began. “but deal with it.” he finished.

he began to explain how the spies in a popular celebrity restaurant and how they were beginning to build nuclear weapons in the basement of this hotel/ restaurant.

“now here’s the kicker,” he sighed. “we can’t really get in, we’re all to recognizable to the public. we need someone new out there.”

everyone began to look around before landing their eyes on you and bucky. you realized what was going on and your eyes widened.

“uhm i’m down to do this,” you raised your hand. “only not with him.” you motioned towards bucky.

“it’s not up to discussion,” tony stopped. “you do this with him and that’s it.”

before any of you could argue with the billionaire, he walked away ending the meeting. you huffed out in frustration as you stood up and walked away.

later that day, you received an invitation to the restaurant. wow thanks tony. you knew it was your time to shine. you had to pull out some emerald green party dress from the back of your closet for this one. you never were the type to party. even before becoming an avenger.

you decided to clean your looks for the night, you did your hair and makeup and felt clean and almost human again. but you snapped out of it and marched towards the meeting room. there you were met with bucky in a all black suit. a blush crept in as it was suited for him, but bucky was also shocked at your appearance, you wore a opened back silky emerald green party dress that hugged your curves amazingly.

he cleared his throat as you were met next to him. “you clean up nice.” bucky grumbled.

“you too, barnes.” you smirked slightly as you both made your way to the limousine with tony inside. he explained the plan simply to both of you.

get away from the party and once done, one goes upstairs to where the terrorists have the launch codes and panels. other goes to the basement and disarms all the guards and somehow eliminates the launch from succeeding. then tony ends explaining with,

“then at the end, both of you get a room and squash this beef you guys have going on by simply sleeping together.” you both stare at tony with disgust and horror as you pull up to the front of the building.

“good god kill me.” you whispered as you got out, tony yelled, ‘use protection!’ causing you guys to become flustered and quickly walk away from the limousine.

both pair of eyes wandered around the room and noticed the fancy party going on. everyone was too focused on their own thing as both you and bucky nodded and split into different directions. you wandered to the elevator towards the upstairs to a specific room.

tony explained how a signal was being traced from the 5th floor and you’d have to use some electromagnetic machine to find them. or whatever tony and bruce explained to you. you discreetly pulled out the small machine from the clutch you held and your hand wandered through the hall, still keeping an eye out for any guests and possible intruders.

your eye caught the door next to the wide balcony opening at the end of the hall. it glowed a dark blue underneath the crack of the white door, illuminating through the hall.

you cautiously pointed the machine and it went crazy. this has to be it. you pulled out your gun from the clutch and you threw it to the side as you pushed the door slightly open. you noticed at least 5 people in the suite. some guy was typing at the large computer and talking in a foreign language towards the guards, clearly not doing their job.

you scoffed softly. these were simply just idiots. you knocked out the first guard easily. it wasn’t too hard to knock out the other big guy too. you decided to tie up the guy way the computer. you needed some answers.

“why nuke the place huh?” you asked as you plugged in the flash drive given to you. you began decoding some firewalls as the terrorist began talking.

“small talk doesn’t suit you,” he smirked. “where’s your boyfriend?” he asked you back.

“i ask the questions here,” you raised a brow. “and he’s not my boyfriend.” you continued typing vigorously as you disarmed the codes.

“good so you won’t mind when we put a bullet between his eyes?” he smirked. you sighed and stopped typing. you turned around and squatted in front of him.

“i may hate the guy,” you began as you grabbed his hair to reveal his beaten face. “but he’s still my teammate. i’m a team player.” you spat as you let go of his face and it hung low as he chuckled dryly.

“you know you’re pretty tough for a who-.” before he could finish the sentence, bucky came in with a gun and silencer. he shot the guy straight and point blank before he could even finish the sentence.

“we have to kill the bad guy you know, y/n.” bucky snarky comment didn’t make you flinch.

“yeah but it was quite fun hearing him talk non stop,” you sighed as you sat back down and began typing yet again. “almost like you.” you smirked. bucky rolled his eyes and watched you breakthrough the firewall.

“why do you hate me?” bucky asked as he examined your beautiful features. you scoffed.

“you should know this.” you replied coldly.

bucky shifted his stance and raised a brow. “yeah but you should know that was just my mind being all freshly blended.” he sighed.

you stopped typing and sat up and turned to face the brunette. “bucky, and i mean this from the bottom of my heart to the bottom of my ass,” you stood up and towered over him. “you are the most stupid and naive man i’ve ever met. you hate where people despise you and yet you never bothered to get to know me. therefore bucky barnes, i hate you.” you put on a fake smile before you sat back down.

“wow...,” bucky blinked completely dumbfounded. “i didn’t know you felt... so strongly about me.” he blinked rapidly.

you slightly scoffed at his comment instead of replying and there was a silence between you two as typing echoes the room.

“got it,” you finally said as you stood up. “finally disabled all the weapons and it should be ready to be removed from basement and just in time for tony and the gang to gather these.” you finally said as you removed the flash drive.

bucky looked at you in awe. how could you gather all your emotions and just focus so easily. you quickly got out of the room and began walking down to the elevator with bucky. the floor began moving downwards as it stopped at the next floor.

some clearly bad guys, loaded the lift and you notice the guns. they were suspecting you two were involved.

“kiss me.” you whispered into his ear. his hairs stood up on the back of his neck at the comment and made his throat go dry.

“w-what?” he whispered back.

“just do it!” bucky grabbed your face and pulled towards him as he began slowly kissing you. you hated to admit that your stomach gave you butterflies. your bodies slowly melted. the bad guys became uncomfortable and just waiting for the lift to finally stop at the next floor.

as they exited and the doors shut, you let go and heaved for air. you let out a sigh as you wiped your face. you looked over at bucky and he had lipstick smeared on his lips. you chuckled a bit as you noticed this and he looked confused.

“you have lipstick smeared everywhere.” you noted as you guys finally made it to the first floor.

bucky blushed as he rubbed off the lipstick on his face and cleared his throat. he didn’t know what that was about but he wanted for more.

you guys finally made it to the parking lot as the car tint delivered stood. tony and the crew should be here any minute, but you two needed to get out before any one shows up. your job was considered done.

you threw the keys at bucky as he swiftly caught them in his natural hand. you waited for him to unlock the door. you began to get into the car and both of you zoomed out of the parking lot.

both of you made it back to the compound and you two finally let loose of the disguise and sat at the bar.

bucky cradled a scotch in his metal hand as you held some vodka and cranberry in your own hand.

crickets could could be heard of how quiet the compound was. it never got this silent. usually someone would start something and it would be a comfort thing after a while. bucky finally broke the silence.

“why did you kiss me?,” he asked sheepishly.

“i mean mostly to get the guards uncomfortable.” you raised a brow.

“yeah but why would you kiss me?,” he questioned. “i mean you could’ve started arguing with me or crying to make them uncomfortable, but instead you kissed me.” you finally noticed it and a blush crept onto your face.

“well uhm.” you started as you were lost for words. “i really don’t know bucky.” you chuckled dryly. you placed your glass onto the marble table as bucky did the same with his.

he strutted to you with any confidence he had from the crazy night or the scotch gave him. he was now next to you.

“admit it,” he suddenly said. “you don’t completely hate me.” he smirked.

your breath hitched in your throat at this. “are you crazy bucky?”

“only for you, doll.” he softly replied as he leaned closer to you.

fuck it.

you gave in and kissing him the second time that night. all the excitement gathered and you let out any hatred you had for him all those years.

“i don’t hate you,” you breathed out. “i wanted you, but i knew i couldn’t.” you finally let out. it was like a weight lifted with these words.

bucky slightly moaned into the kiss as you jumped up into his arms and wrapped your legs around him. he felt electrified and trapped under your spell.

“i called it.” tony let out. you both quickly pull away and you noticed the gang all standing at the door. you blushed and let go of bucky standing on your feet quickly.

“shut up stark.” steve told him as everyone walked in exhausted as they sat down on the couch.

bucky quickly cleared his throat as he leaned into your ear. “you tasted so sweet.” you coughed at your own saliva (and a bit of his) at this comment.

“you’re so dead barnes.” you whispered towards him.

[frenchtipacrylics]

mainting your glow up while mentally ill💓

it’s been a while! i know in this community it seems like everyone always has their life together, but i’ve been in a rough spot lately and i thought it would help if i made a post about how i try to keep myself on track when my mental health isn’t at its peak. i have major depressive disorder, anxiety, and possibly bipolar 2, and while i value getting dolled up a lot of the time, it’s often really hard to actually do during a mental health episode. 

before i get into the tips, i want to let everyone dealing with mental health issues know that it’s okay to not be “on” and put together all the time. most people can’t imagine what we go through, and absolutely wouldn’t be able to go about life as normal if they had to deal with our issues. it’s normal to not be able to function properly everyday when you’re in the middle of an episode. that’s what “disorder” literally means–you aren’t able to function normally because your mental illness causes disorder in your life. don’t beat yourself up for not being able to function as well as people who don’t have disorders. 

that being said, here are my tips for trying to stay on track as much as possible when i’m going through it.

habit tracker apps or simply utilizing your calendar and reminder apps. this is such an easy way to get back on track when you have a bit more energy. a lot of these apps break down days into morning, afternoon, and night so it’s easier to start a routine that won’t overwhelm you but still make sure you’re doing what you need to. if you start using these everyday you will definitely see a change. a few popular ones are productive, nozerodays, habitica, fabulous, and do.list.

find foods that you can tolerate that are high in nutrients but take little to no effort to make/eat. mine are frozen fruit, canned fish, baby carrots, premade salads, yogurt, and eggs with spinach. all of these foods can be dressed up to make them taste better, but they’re absolutely fine to eat on their own, which is perfect when i’m in the middle of an episode. it’s important to make sure some of the low effort foods you eat are good for you. for example, canned fish is super high in omega 3 fatty acids, which help depression and anxiety; baby carrots are high in fiber, vitamin A, antioxidants, the latter two of which help with your skin. 

silk pillow cases and silk hair wraps. everyone knows how good these are for your hair and skin. black girls especially know how important protecting your hair with silk or satin is. but sometimes, i can get too depressed to wrap my hair or put my bonnet on, or i keep it on for a week and it eventually loosens up and falls off in my sleep. i also rarely get out of bed when it gets too bad. so, silk pillowcases are absolutely necessary when experiencing an episode. 

a quick skincare routine and hand sanitizer that i keep next to my bed is a MUST.

a few simple cleansers that would really help are micellar water, cleansing wipes/cleansing cloths (the koh gen do cleansing spa water cloths are especially nice but they’re pretty expensive; the burts bees ones are only $6). i usually just keep multiple water bottles in my room and use those with my traditional cleanser; that’s still a significant amount of work, but it also helps ensure that i drink plenty of water.

i have oily skin, so i still make sure to exfoliate regularly (and only at night). i use my tretinoin prescription.

moisturizer is very important. even if you’re depressed, you still need to make sure your skin is being hydrated. in the mornings, it’s best to use a moisturizer and sunscreen combo in order to lessen your steps. at night, a simple moisturizer works. also at night, i “slug” my face by using an occlusive such as vaseline, aquaphor, or the cerave healing ointment. this especially helps lessen the steps you have to take in the morning. since i usually wake up with hydrated skin after using an occlusive at night, i don’t have to have a real morning skincare routine outside of sunscreen.

this is absolutely not needed, but i’ve learned that adding fun stuff to my skincare routine helps me look forward to doing it more. i have a hello kitty spa headband to keep my hair out of my face, facial mists, resurfacing masks, sheet masks, etc. obviously, this isn’t going to work for everyone, but it has helped me personally.

bed workouts!!! things like planks, marching hip raises, scissor legs, and other things are very easy to do in the bed. exercise helps with depression and it makes sure your muscles are still getting used so they don’t get extremely weak.

supplements. chances are, you’re not getting an adequate amount of your daily vitamins if you’re in the middle of an episode. this can not only affect how you look, but they greatly affect how your body works. i’m anemic, and the chronic fatigue that comes from it often prevents me from getting out of bed even if my depression isn’t. vitamin B12, vitamin D, iron supplements, multivitamins, omega 3, biotin, a probiotic, etc. are all common supplements for women that help keep our bodies in order depending on what you need. i would recommend getting blood work done to really determine if you’re deficient and in what, but a lot of deficiencies can be self-diagnosed. it’s important to note that many supplements in the united states aren’t fda regulated, so checking independent testing companies to make sure your supplements aren’t contaminated with toxins or that they actually contain the advertised ingredients at the strength indicated is key. labdoor.com and consumerlab.com are great, and checking to see if there’s a usp label helps, too. 

when therapy is not accessible, try online mental health resources that are recommended by real therapists. therapy in a nutshell is a youtube channel that is dedicated to providing accessible advice to people who cannot see a therapist for whatever reason. she has quick, bite-sized videos on many different topics related to mental health and bettering oneself, as well as videos where she has psychologists come onto her channel and give advice or explanations for certain mental health issues. 

keep wisp disposable toothbrushes and floss sticks in your bed or on your dresser. tooth health is so extremely important; once you mess up your teeth, there’s no coming back from that. keeping a disposable toothbrush helps because you don’t have to get out of bed to use them since they come with toothpaste built in. they may not give as deep of a clean as actually brushing your teeth, but they get rid of food particles and give you fresh breath. use floss sticks afterwards for more freshness. another tip is to keep hydrogen peroxide near you; pour some into your mouth, swish it around for a few minutes, and spit it into a cup or the trash can for whiter teeth. it also helps destroy bacteria. 

and finally, try to incorporate something light into your daily routine. whether that’s waking up and watching a comedy show, listening to music that is light and upbeat, watching your favorite comfort movies, funny tiktoks, reading part of a good book from your childhood—it can be anything. these things can temporarily distract you from your situation and cause you to laugh or smile. scientifically, laughter and smiling causes minor stress relief. making a habit of this can genuinely improve your mood over time.

[atths--twice]

Covert Relationship

Two teachers carry a secret, unbeknownst to well intentioned students trying to get them together. ❤️ 

A tweet created an idea that HAD to be written down. Hope you enjoy! 

“Why do you always stare at her, but you don’t do anything about it?”

“Hey…”

“Mr. Mulder, it’s the truth.”

“I don’t… stare at her. That would be rude.”

“Fine then, which word would be better. Heather, go get the thesaurus.”

“No, no, no. You all need to get outside for lunch and recess. Put the book down and go get some fresh air.”

“You admit it’s true and we’ll go.”

“No. You’ll go because I said so, smarty pants. Scoot, scoot.” He gestured for them to go and they grumbled as they went, casting knowing glances back at him as he shook his head, trying not to smile.

Waiting until they had walked down the hall and around the corner, his hands in his jeans pockets, he saw when she came out of her classroom and his heart skipped a beat. She was leading her class of kindergartners out in a line, two by two, singing as they walked toward the playground.

She caught his eye and he smiled slowly, watching her blush and tuck back a piece of her long red hair. She shook her head and reached for the hand of the line leader, continuing to sing as they walked, her eyes landing on his once more before she left his sight.

He let out a breath, shaking his head as he went back into his classroom. He was not on lunch duty this week and chose to stay in the classroom where he could eat his lunch in silence, before the kids came back from their much needed break.

Also, if he sat in just the right spot, he could stare… no not stare… watch Miss Scully as the little ones crowded around and demanded her help.

“Is watch a better word?” he mumbled to himself, taking out his lunch and sitting down to… surveil her.

Christ, no. That was even worse. He glanced at the thesaurus, but left it there, Miss Scully appearing in his view.

_____________

“Miss Scully, can you help me with my juice box?”

“One opened juice box coming right up,” she said with a grin.

“I can’t get my yogurt open.”

“Be there in a sec, Joshey!”

“Miss Scully, I can’t open my water. My mom closes it too tight.”

“Miss Superhero Scully, to the rescue!”

They all laughed as she buzzed from table to table, helping each child until near silence fell as they all began to eat. She smiled as she watched them, her little faux children. She loved them all and knew when the school year was over she would be incredibly sad.

Glancing up, she saw Mr. Mulder, the most popular fifth grade teacher watching her. She placed a hand on her hip and raised an eyebrow at him, letting him know she had caught him in the act. He paused, his sandwich close to his mouth and rolled away quickly on his office chair.

She chuckled slightly and shook her head, turning her back on him, not wanting to encourage him in any way. Her focus would remain on the children, not the man with gorgeous eyes who gave her butterflies every time he spoke or looked her way.

No, she needed to keep all thoughts of Fox Mulder from her mind.

Until she was home anyway, where those thoughts could linger and bloom…

__________________

Five hours later, a parent meeting and then one with the principal, he got into his car and sighed. His class had come back from lunch with an obvious plan, whispered notes passed throughout the afternoon. He knew they were in cahoots to get him and Miss Scully together, no matter how he tried to stop them.

Focusing instead on letting it run its course, he had ignored them, keeping the teasing and giggling to a minimum. At the end of the day, watching them leave, he hoped the large red construction paper envelope that Marie Sinclair held in her hands was for someone else and not Miss Scully. Knowing he was probably wrong, he had wished them goodbye, happy it was Friday, with the whole weekend ahead of him.

Leaving the parking lot, he turned left, a purchase needing to be made before he could go home.

__________________

She was tired, the week feeling longer than five days. Two meetings after school and sitting behind a slow moving truck for a mile, she was ready to relax.

Taking off her shoes, her mouth watered at the scent coming from the kitchen. The meal and bread had finished at precisely the same time, just as she had planned. Dinner was ready, and all she had to do was open the wine and let it breathe.

She quickly showered, washing off the day and slipping into something more comfortable. Her hair down and slightly damp, she made her way downstairs and into the kitchen, dropping an opened construction paper envelope onto the counter.

Lifting the lid of the bread maker, she took out the holder releasing the bread and placed it on the cutting board, cutting it into large thick slices. Two plates were taken out of the cupboard and the chicken and potatoes were dished from the crockpot, allowing them time to cool, as her mouth continued to water.

The front door opened and closed and with a grin, she reached for the bottle of wine and filled the glasses. Turning around, she was greeted by the sight of a bouquet of gerbera daisies in many colors, and the man who made her stomach flutter.

“Hello wife,” he said, setting the flowers on the counter.

“Husband,” she replied with a smile.

“Thought the flowers would be a nice surprise.”

“Indeed. And perhaps they are an apology for spending your entire lunch break staring at me?” she teased, handing him a glass of wine.

“Is ‘staring’ the word we would use?” he asked, looming over her, causing her head to tip back, a smile playing at her lips.

“I would definitely classify it as such, yes.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, bending his head to kiss her softly before she pulled him back for another.

“So, what did they say today?” she asked after another kiss, opening the cupboard and pointing to the vase she wanted, which he lifted down with ease, a smirk on his face.

“That I stare at you and never do anything about it.”

“Hmm,” she hummed, filling the vase with a smile. “And what did you tell them?”

“More of the same. ‘You’re out of my league. Would never look at me twice.’ You know, the usual.”

She nodded, reaching for the flowers and opening the plastic and paper. Taking them out, she arranged them in the vase, watching him out of the corner of her eye as he picked up her mess and tossed it into the trash.

“They’re wrong though. Or you are.”

“How’s that?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her, and nuzzling her neck.

“I’m nowhere near out of your league. And it only took one look.”

“Oh, Miss Scully…” he breathed and she laughed, turning around to face him, the flowers perfectly arranged.

“Mr. Mulder,” she whispered, reaching into his inside jacket pocket and taking out the small pouch inside. Opening it, she took out the gold band she had placed on his finger four years ago in a wedding chapel in Vegas.

Placing it back now, he kissed her, her hands moving to his face, the ring he had given her already replaced after she had showered. Pulling apart, they grinned at one another, their secret still safe.

“Dinner smells delicious. You timed it perfectly.”

“Of course I did. Did you expect anything less?”

“From my intelligent wife? Never.”

“Thank you, my husband. Grab the napkins and silverware would you?” she asked as she carried their plates to the table, coming back for the wine and bread with butter.

He kissed the top of her head as they sat down the red envelope placed beside her and she grinned. Raising her eyebrows, she waited for him to look at the contents once everything was set upon the table.

“Well, let’s see what we have here. Where was it?”

“My desk. I found it after I came back from dismissal duty.”

“Hmm. Well let’s give it a read.” He took his glasses from his inside pocket and put them on, and cleared his throat. “‘Miss Scully, perhaps you may have noticed how Mr. Mulder gazes at you.’ Oh, they used the thesaurus and found a better word than stares, as it makes me sound like a pervert. Perhaps you haven’t, but WE have and we feel that without help, OUR help, he will never speak up, thus-’ wow, ‘thus…’ I am impressed- ‘thus we have taken it upon ourselves to ask for him. Would you go out to dinner with him?’” He looked at her with a grin, his adorable face in glasses causing that familiar flutter in her stomach, as he turned the paper around. “You didn’t give them an answer.”

“Only because I didn’t have a pen,” she said with a smile. He handed her the paper and got up to grab a pen. Sitting back down, he gave it to her, and took a sip of his wine.

Turning slightly so he could not see what she was writing, she smiled as she penned her answer. Folding the paper, she tried to put it back without him reading it, but he grabbed it, holding it above his head when she laughingly tried to take it back.

“Too fast for you. So what did Miss Scully have to say in response?” She smiled, threading her fingers together, and resting her chin on top of them. ‘I have noticed the way Mr. Mulder gazes at me and I think you’re right… without help he may never speak up. So, thank you for stepping in and please tell him my answer is: yes. (Also, please let him know I love Italian food).’” He smiled and folded the letter, put it in the envelope and placed it on the other side of his plate.

“Do you know how much I love you, Miss Scully?”

“I have some idea, Mr. Mulder,” she said, leaning forward to kiss him, her hand on his arm. Opening her eyes slowly, she smiled. “I love you too. Now let’s eat, I’m starving.” He laughed and took a bite, telling her more about his day.

As she listened to him, she thought for the millionth time how lucky it was that she had been forced to attend a ridiculous teachers team building seminar five years ago and had been partnered with the awkward handsome man who had felt just as silly as she when they had to make an abstract art project out of random school supplies.

[jungshookz]

ok so like y/n hanging out with her friends at an ice cream shop and super cute employee kook so happens to make y/n very nervous

➺ pairing; jeon jungkook (birthday boy!!!) x reader

➺ genre; marshmallow fluff level fluffy!!!! if u have a sweet tooth then this drabble is for you, jimin and taehyung are nightmare friends and i don’t know why u insist on hanging out with them all the time, *clown nose honk* 

➺ wordcount: 3.5k

➺ what to expect;  “i’ve been giving you free ice cream for the past four months, y/n. you really didn’t think, at any point, that i liked you like that?”

                                      »»————-　♡　————-««

“oh, god. i think you’re going to have to roll me into the car.” you groan as you place a hand over your bloated stomach, “also, i’m… pretty sure i’m nine months pregnant.”  

whoever came up with the whole ‘all you can eat buffet!’ concept must’ve been a psychopath because you feel like if you take another step you’re going to projectile vomit all the way across town

you let out a huff as you bend down and place your hands on your knees

jesus

you’re going to be siCK

“no one asked you to eat like seven servings of mac n’ cheese balls.” jimin raises a brow before rubbing your back in comforting circles

“i’m sorry, do you not hear yourself?” you twist your head before looking at him as if he just sprouted two heads on each shoulder, “mac n’ cheese balls. deep-fried balls of macaroni and cheese. all you can eat deep-fried balls of macaroni and cheese. with a tangy chipotle-ranch dip on the side!”  

“alright, i get it.” he snorts before rolling his eyes, “i’m guessing this means you’re not in the mood for dessert anymore?”

you immediately stand up straight before giving your stomach a couple of pats, “where are we going for dessert??”

you’re ALWAYS in the mood for dessert

your first stomach might be full of food but your second stomach is completely empty

the monster inside your second stomach demands something sweet!

“well, scoops is right across the street. i heard the ice cream there is pretty good!” taehyung chirps before pointing at the ice cream place

you immediately feel your heart fall out of your ass

you usually never say no to ice cream but uh

there’s one reason why you’d prefer to go someplace else

jimin glances back when he notices you’re not following them to cross the street

he raises a brow before tilting his head, “if you actually need to puke, the garbage bin is right the-“

“i’m fine, i just-“ your voice cracks and you clear your throat quickly, “why do we have to go for ice cream?? there’s a frozen yogurt place a couple blocks away… and frozen yogurt is just as good!”

jimin and taehyung exchange glances before the two of them look back at you

“weren’t you the one who said that frozen yogurt was just a sad, watered-down version of ice cream and that the day you asked to go for frozen yogurt was the day we should execute you via cruel, unusual punishment?”

“yeah, and the cruel, unusual punishment was to force you to eat frozen yogurt?”

you poke your tongue against the inside of your cheek

damnit

they’re right

you friggin’ hate frozen yogurt

“ooh, check it out!” jimin gasps, his eyes lighting up, “strawberry-rhubarb pie. i wonder how they turned a pie into an ice cream flavour!”

“uh-huh, yeah…” you mutter absentmindedly, eyes flitting around behind the large counter

okay

okay!

this is fine

everything is fine

maybe today is his day off something!  

hopEfully today is his day off because you are literally about to pop a button on your jeans and the last person who you’d want to have witness that would be-

“good evening, folks!” you practically jump out of your skin and you instinctively duck behind taehyung when he seems to pop out of thin air

he smiles brightly as he props his arms up on the top of the display case, “just give me a holler whenever you’re ready.”

okay

we should probably rewind a little bit

‘he’ would be… well, the person you’re currently hiding from.  

you don’t know much about him besides the fact that his name is jungkook (the name tags here are comically large, by the way. it’s actually a little ridiculous. it’s like the employees think all the customers are blind and that’s why they made their name tags the size of a baby’s head.) and every time you come here he gives you extra hot fudge on your ice cream and also he’s very veRY cute

you usually come here after you finish submitting an essay or doing a live presentation as a way to reward yourself

because why live life if you’re not going to treat yourself every now and again??

you started this tradition at the beginning of the year and originaLLy you went to the only ice cream place on campus

unfortunately, the ice cream place on campus isn’t super great

their waffle cones are always stale and the ice cream pretty much melts as soon as you take a step outside of the store

and you werE going to give up and just find another place (your second option was the ice cream at mcdonald’s but that’s actually kind of sad now that you think about it) but!!!!

you felt like you deserved to have good ice cream!!!

so you googled the best ice cream parlours in the city and scoops was one of the only ones that was the closest to campus

only a ten minute bus ride away and you didn’t even have to transfer to another bus or anything

it was pretty much a dream come true!!

and you still remember the first time you wandered in here because you were greeted veRy enthusiastically by jungkook

you were pretty much the only person in the store on that day because it was like 2pm on a tuesday which made it hard to believe that this place was as popular as it sounded

to be fair, 2pm on a tuesday isn’t really the normal time to grab a cone of ice cream so there’s that

“you’re not striking me as the cookies ’n cream type. that seems a little too basic for you…” jungkook mutters as he stroked at his chin thoughtfully, “and i’m not getting a rocky road vibe from you, either…”

“is that so?” the corner of your mouth twitches in a smile and you cross your arms as you begin to make your way down the counter, jungkook slowly following you from where he’s standing, “what kind of vibe are you getting from me?”

“red velvet cake!” jungkook stops in his tracks to point at the tub of red velvet ice cream sitting in the display case, “in a brownie waffle cone… with hot fudge on top.”

your brows perk up in interest

red velvet cake ice cream

in a brownie waffle cone

with hot fudge on top?

…that sounds like something you’d devour in three seconds flat.  

you obviously ended up enjoying the ice cream, and from that moment on, you promised yourself that this would be your place to celebrate your little victories

so, yeah!

the ice cream was good and the cute boy was just a bonus

of course… there is one tiny detail that has to be addressed

if it wasn’t already painfully obvious by now - jungkook makes you extremely nervous.

you’re not sure how it started, because you were literally fine when you first met him

the nerves appeared without warning of any kind!!

it was very strange

one day jungkook’s smile suddenly made your heart skip a beat and you had nO idea why because it had never done that before

and another time, when he told you that you were his favourite customer, your stomach started doing somersaults which was also something that your stomach had nevER done before

ooh, AND that one time when he said that he’d make a fresh batch of brownie waffle cones just for you… well, you were pretty much ready to marry him right then and there.

sure, when you saw the occasional attractive person on the street, you’d have the usual ‘oh, they’re pretty cute!’ thought, but that’d be it and then you’d never think about them again

but it was different with jungkook

it was more intense with jungkook

this wasn’t just a little schoolgirl crush.,,. this was,.., this was a schoolwoMAN crush

you initially thought that all these brand new feelings combined with the tingly feeling of chocolate syrup pumping through your veins should’ve been enough to scare you away from scoops forever, but…

the only reason why you keep swallowing your nerves and coming back is because the ice cream is really good here (five gold stars on google reviews!!) aND you can’t say no to extra hot fudge on the house!!!

sometimes jungkook surprises you with a couple brownie chunks or marshmallows or even cheesecake chunks on top without ever charging you which is also really nice of him

not to mention, on the days that you end class a little earlier, you like to come here to get some studying done

you have your own little table in the corner and jungkook always brings you a little treat to enjoy during your study session

nothing huGe like your usual red velvet brownie waffle hot fudge combo because you told him that you were only allowed to eat that if you were celebrating something, so he usually brings you a little cup with a random flavour of ice cream in it

strawberry shortcake

cinnamon toast crunch

banana milk is a really good one

and you can’t noT mention the chocolate-covered strawberries ice cream

the ice cream is a tangy strawberry base with swirls of dark chocolate in it and it is truly.,,. truly one of the best things you’ve ever put in your mouth

you just don’t understand why your knees get so wobbly and your palms get sO sweaty every time he flashes that handsome smile of his in your direction

you see plenty of attractive people every day on campus!

you see plenty of attractive people every day in your lectures!

your two friends are a couple of attractive people as well!!

at one point you even had crushes on boTh jimin and taehyung!! 

(you will be taking that information to your grave because if they find out.,,. you’ll never live it down)

so why is this any different??

“so, i’m gonna go with the strawberry-rhubarb pie in a cup… and-“ jimin turns to look at taehyung (and you, currently peeking at jimin over taehyung’s shoulder), “what are you guys getting?”

your eyes widen and you duck down again when jungkook leans over to look at you and taehyung

“i’m gonna go with… the dark chocolate and caramel swirl… in a plain waffle cone.” taehyung nods affirmatively, “yeah. take the order now before i overthink it.”

“one strawberry-rhubarb pie in a cup… one dark chocolate and caramel swirl in a plain waffle cone…” jungkook mumbles to himself as he rinses the ice cream scooper in the little bucket of water before tapping it off on the side, “-and one red velvet cake in a brownie waffle cone with hot fudge on top, right, y/n?”

boTh taehyung and jimin’s heads nearly snap off when they turn to look at you

taehyung steps out of the way and you freeze like a deer in headlights

maybe if you just… stay very still… jungkook won’t see you…

a good two seconds ticks by before you figure that you probably look like an idiot right now

“um-“ you straighten up a little before smoothing your sweater down, “i… yep! that… yep. sounds good.”

jungkook smiles brightly before nodding, “alright! just give me a couple of minutes to get that ready for you guys.”

your heart starts to drum away in your chest as you watch the back of jungkook’s head

even the back of his damn head is attractive

it’s not fair!!!!

“…i feel like there’s something we’re missing here.” taehyung is the first one to speak up and you force out a chuckle before shaking your head

time to do what you do best

D E N Y

“there’s nothing you’re missing here!” you snort, “he just- i’ve been here like, once or twice, so-“

“red velvet cake in a brownie waffle cone with hot fudge on top sounds a little too specific for you to have only been here once or tw-“ jimin pauses and his eyes widen to the size of saucers, “oh my god.”

your brows knit together in concern, “wh- what?”

a smile begins to creep onto jimin’s face and your mind begins to race with what he could possibLy be thinking when suddenly- “you slept with him!” jimin gasps before whacking tae’s arm multiple times, “she slept with him!!!”

“wha- NO- no, i did not sleep with jungk-!” you lower your voice when you realise that there are children in here and you lean in, “i didn’t sleep with him. i just- i come here a lot, and- i don’t know. he’s nice! a-and he’s cute. he’s- he’s nice and he’s cute. and he gives me free things, sometimes.”

“…yeah, i think she’s telling the truth. she definitely didn’t sleep with him.“ taehyung shakes his head and you let out a sigh of relief

at least someone’s on your side here

you jolt when taehyung suddenly gives you a hearty sLAp on the back, “she’s just in love with him and doesn’t know how to tell him-“

OH my go-

“hey, your ice creams are ready for you!” jungkook, once again, seemingly pops out of thin air and the thrEE of you immediately split up the mini football huddle, “i have them for you at the cash register if you wanna come over and get them! y/n, i tried something new with your cone - i wrapped marshmallow fluff around the top and then caramelised it so it’d turn into, like, a s’mores situation-”

“y-yep! i’ll be right there-“ you hold a finger out and jungkook nods before heading over to the cash register

you turn to look at jimin and taehyung and scowl when the two of them begin to make kissy noises at each other

“oh, y/n, come to the back so i can show you my cone-“

“you can fluff my marshmallows any day of the week, jungkook-“

oh, god

see????

this was exaCTLY why you didn’t want to come here!!!!

in case this happened!!!!!

“oh my god, lemme drizzle my syrup all over your face, baby-“

“okay, c’mon, that’s enough-“

“roll me up like how you roll those waffle cones with your big, strong arms-“

jesus christ

children!!!!!!!

they are both chiLdren!!!!

boys are so GROSS

jungkook waits patiently by the cash register as his fingers drum against the marble countertop

he leans over to peek at you and your friends and smiles lightly when he sees you whaCk at one of them

to be honest, he liked you the moment you stepped into the shop for the first time

he still remembers how excited you were when you were looking at all the different flavours

according to the company policy, customers are only allowed to try four samples but jungkook’s pretty sure he let you try twenty samples on that day

after the first time you came here, he was actually pretty worried that he’d never see you again??

he was pretty bummed about it for a while because he wished that he would’ve asked for your number or something while you were here but he was too busy trying to be the charming ice-cream boy anD he was also pretty busy admiring your cute face

so he was very much pleasantly surprised when you came back a week later and was fully ready to let you go ham on the samples again

>:-)

but, again, he didn’t ask for your number that time around either because he couldn’t figure out a smooth way to ask you

and he wasn’t worried about you noT coming back because you seemed like a pretty big ice cream person

the point is: jungkook’s had plenty of opportunities (practically handed to him on a silver platter) to ask for your number so that he can finally ask you OUT and… he hasn’t.

but today!!!!

today will be different!!!!

today he’ll finally make his move!!!

he’s not giving himself an option!!!

he actually wasn’t expecting you in today because you usually pop up every two weeks or so and you came in last week

at first he thought that maybe you were dating one of the boys that you came in with but from the looks of it, the vibes are very much platonic and not at all romantic

so he thinks he’s in the clear here

jungkook straightens his posture and puffs his chest out a little bit when he sees you walking over

okay

operation: finally ask y/n for her number, you pussy is undERWAY

“well, i’m going to go and pay for your guys’ ice creams and you can just continue to make fools of yourselves-!”

by the time you make your way over to the cash register, jimin and taehyung are stiLL going at it but you’re hoping that jungkook won’t pay it any mind

“alright, how much do i owe you?” you ask as you pull your debit card out of your wallet, “this ice cream is the only thing i’m willing to break my wallet over-“

“actually, all of this is on the house today.” jungkook bounces on the balls of his feet for a second, “it’s the special birthday discount!”

?

you tilt your head

what special birthday discount?

“birthday discount?” you ask dumbly, “it’s not my birthday, though.”

“no, it’s not your birthday… but it’s my birthday.” jungkook clears his throat, “and… you know, i wanted to do something nice for you!”

“okay, well, first of all- happy birthday!” you smile brightly before that smile immediately drops from your face, “and, second of all- i can’t take this for free, jungkook- you even sprinkled those fancy toasted pecans on top of taehyung’s ice cream! i have to give you something-“

jungkook swallows his nerves

it’s now or never!

“there is… one thing you could give me…” he trails off, his voice starting to grow a little quiet

okay

the confidence is beginning to dwindle a little so he should probably get to the point 

“yeah, i can think of one thing- like money??” you stick your debit card out again and jungkook rolls his eyes playfully before whacking your hand away

okay

just say it

just say it!!!!!!

“no, not money…” jungkook swallows thickly before shaking his head, “i was thinking more along the lines of… you know, your number.”

you drop your debit card on the countertop with a clatter

“my-“ you cut yourself off mid-sentence and you feel your cheeks immediately turn bright red, “you- you want my number?”

jungkook… jungkook wants your number?

you feel like money would be better than your number, but that’s just your humble opinion

“i mean- you obviously don’t have to give it to me if you don’t want to! i-i’m not trying to imply that you owe me anything, i just-“ jungkook pauses for a second and his tongue pokes out to swipe over his bottom lip nervously, “i just, um, i don’t know! i… i really… enjoy your company, whenever you come in for a visit, you know? and i think you’re really pretty, so there’s that. i dunno.”

well, he can safely say that his self-proclaimed boyish charm flew out of the window as soon as he opened his mouth

why’s he so nervous all of a sudden??

he’s practiced this in front of the mirror a doZEN times

and every time he hits on himself in the mirror he’s tempted to give himself his number

that’s how good he is at flirting!!

but here he is!!! 

fumbling over his words!!! 

shoving his clammy hands into his pockets!!! 

diverting his gaze from the pretty girl who he’s been dreaming about ever since the first time he laid his undeserving eyes on her!!!

“no, no-! i just-“ you smile shyly as you slide your debit card back into your wallet with clumsy hands, “i would absolutely love to give you my number! it’s just that i- i didn’t- i didn’t think that you… liked me like that.”

jungkook looks up at you before scoffing playfully, “i’ve been giving you free ice cream for the past four months, y/n. you really didn’t think, at any point, that i liked you like that?”

you press your lips together before flashing a sheepish smile at him, “i mean… i was probably paying more attention to the ice cream than to you.”  

jungkook snorts

he should’ve seen that coming. 

(p.s. he heard every single word of what your friends said earlier and this is just his dumb icky sleazy boy brain speaking but he’d be down to drizzle his syrup on ur face if you allowed him to) 

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

requested drabbles masterlist

[k-llama-llama]

All Too Much

SuperM/WayV AU: 8th member (YinYin)

Before SuperM promotions begin, YinYin deals with her stress.

Word Count: 1100

A/N: Thank you all for your lovely messages as I’ve taken this month off. I’m still not committing to a regular schedule, but I’ll be active again! (Patreon will be back to normal in February)

Requests are Open…and your feedback is still super important to me.

Masterlist and other Follow Me links in bio!

YinYin ripped the page out of her notebook and crumpled it up, throwing it against the wall. She’d been trying to write her journal page to submit to her Korean tutor for two hours, but she wasn’t having any luck. She just knew that every single draft she’d done was riddled with mistakes, and no amount of consulting her workbooks or googling was helping her.

She was weeks away from her first Korean promotions for SuperM and she couldn’t even write a full paragraph in Korean without messing it up.

It wasn’t that she couldn’t speak Korean, she could hold a conversation with any of the boys without any trouble. The issue was, when she was with WayV or NCT they were almost all coming from the same boat, where they had to juggle different languages depending on who they were talking to. If she forgot a word, she could switch and someone would fill in the blanks.

But she couldn’t do that with SuperM, and she definitely couldn’t do that in interviews.

It didn’t matter how good she was at dancing or singing if she couldn’t even form a coherent sentence when it counted.

She threw her pen against the door, growling in frustration. She collapsed back on her bed, staring at the bunk above her. She’d affixed a pronunciation guide for the lyrics to one of their songs there, hoping that she would learn it in her sleep.

She groaned. It was literally impossible to escape her failure.

“You done?”

YinYin turned her head, watching as Lucas leaned his head over the side of the bunk bed and peered down at her. “What do you mean?”

“You’re throwing your failures all over our room.” He gestured to the growing piles of crumpled paper littering their floor. “So are you done?”

“Am I giving up, do you mean?” YinYin sighed. “Because the answer is yes. I’m a failure.”

“What exactly are you failing at?” His head disappeared, and she heard noises as he scrambled to climb down the bed.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” In an attempt to distract herself, she pulled one leg up to her head, stretching it out.

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?” Lucas was standing next to her bed.

“Stop being a human pretzel and move over.” He shoved her, and she rolled closer to the wall to make room for him.

He flopped down beside her, staring up at the notes taped to the top of her bed. “You never stop, do you?”

“Nope.” She frowned. “We start filming for promotions in nine days and I’m nowhere near good enough.”

“At what? I thought you said you had all of the choreography down.”

“Of course I do.” She glared at him. “I mean Korean. And English, too.” She pointed at a sheet of English vocab words with her toe.

“You’re stressing about Korean?” He looked confused. “Why?”

“Because we have interviews to do, dumbass. And I can barely speak the language.”

“That’s not true. You’re good at Korean.”

“I’m good at Korean the way a tourist is good at Korean.” She sighed. “I can’t order food without planning out what I’m going to say.”

“So? Neither can I.” Lucas laughed. “No one cares, YinYin.”

“Sure, you don’t care. Your Korean and English is a lot better than mine. Besides you’re…urgh, nevermind.”

“I’m what?” He elbowed her.

“Nothing.”

“No, now you have to tell me.” He poked her side. “I’m what?”

YinYin rolled her eyes. “Not sure if you’re aware, but people treat tall, funny, handsome men a lot different than they treat tiny, awkward Chinese girls who are only good at bending.”

“You think I’m handsome?”

“I’m just conveying popular opinion, you’re not my style.”

“Still, you said I was handsome.” He smirked. “And seriously, Yin, I don’t think you need to worry about it. Any place where you get confused or stressed Ten or I can cover for you. Or Taeyong and Mark, they’ve both worked with you before too.”

“But what about the others.” She insisted. “I can’t expect them to be worrying about whether I can understand stuff.”

“They’re in your group now, of course it’s their job to worry about you.” Lucas argued. “And besides, I really don’t think it’s going to be that big of a problem.”

“You don’t get it.” She covered her eyes with her arm, trying to block out the stress.

“And I’m not going to get it unless you tell me.” He nudged her again. “Come on, best friend, spill.”

“Just…” She searched for the right words. “Thinking about getting on stage in front of all those people and not…not being able to speak and them all staring…it’s just…”

“Hey, hey.” Lucas pulled her arm away from her face. “Stop freaking out.”

“Thanks, Lucas, that’s a huge help. Why didn’t I think of that before?” She glared at him, fully aware that her eyes were welling up with tears.

“Yin, it’s not worth your stress.” He promised, rubbing her shoulder.

“I’m going to embarrass the whole group.” She said quietly.

“No, you’re not.” Lucas sighed, before pulling her into a hug. She pressed her face into his shoulder, trying to hide the fact that she was obviously close to crying. “If everyone is staring, it’s going to be because they can’t believe you’re out-dancing Taemin.”

“I can’t outdance Taemin.” She said quietly.

“You can outdance anyone.” He promised, patting her hair. “And I promise that no one is going to stare or laugh or care if you mispronounce something. You speak more languages than anyone in the audience anyways.”

YinYin let out a shuddering breath, and didn’t say anything.

Lucas just squeezed her a bit tighter. “You’re really stressed, aren’t you?”

“I feel like crying.” She said, answering his question.

“Go ahead. I won’t tell anyone.”

“You won’t?”

“Of course not.” She could practically feel him smile as he considered his next words. “I mean…I’ll make fun of you for the rest of our lives, but it’ll be our little secret.”

YinYin let out a little laugh. “You’re the worst.”

“But you love me.” He grinned as she pulled her face away from his shoulder to look up at him. “Better?”

“Slightly.” She leaned into his shoulder. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.” He looked up at her study notes again. “So this is actually depressing. Do you want to go get ice cream or something?”

She gave him a knowing look.

“Fine.” He relented. “We can get frozen yogurt.”

YinYin smiled. “If I can’t speak Korean, at least I’ll have nice abs.”

“But will you ever truly be happy without eating ice cream?

[waitimcomingtoo]

Where We Start Again - 1

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: how do you fake date someone you have real feelings for?

Series Masterlist and regular Masterlist

Playlist by the amazing @tiny-friggin-human

“Did Y/n get a new skirt?” Ned mumbled as he rested his head on his hand. He and Peter watched you as you hung a banner for the school dance, a common lunchtime activity for them. You laughed loud enough for Peters heightened senses to pick up and he smiled to himself.

“No. She’s worn that skirt before. She just usually wears it with tights.” Peter answered as he matched Ned’s position of leaning on his hand.

“Another reason why I love spring.” Ned sighed as you reached towards the other end of the banner.

“You guys are losers.” MJ stated as she glanced up from her book. Peter jumped out of the daze you put him in and looked at her.

“Hey.” He said in defense before returning his attention to you. Even after four years of pining, he never got tired of looking at you.

“I wasn’t being mean. I’m just telling it like it is. In case you forgot, you guys are losers.” She said matter of factly. “Y/n is the most popular girl in school and I’ve watched you drool over her for the better part of four years. While you may think staring at her with a lovestruck expression will magically will her into falling in love with you like the plot of a bad Katherine Heigle movie, you’re only going to give her the feeling that she’s being watched. And girls like that hate being watched.”

“How would you know?” Ned came to his friends defense.

“I’m very observant. She’s also my bio partner and told me she hates being watched.” MJ shrugged and shifted her eyes back to her book.

“Did you hear that, Peter? She hates being watched. That’s so adorable of her.” Ned gushed and let out a sigh.

“Do you talk to her a lot in bio? Is she nice?” Peter asked, curious to know something personal about you.

“She brings me a granola bar every day because she noticed that I forget to eat during lunch if I’m reading. Do you know what that means?” MJ cocked her head.

“She’s charitable.” Peter smiled dreamily and sunk back into his hands.

“I heard she gave a dollar to a homeless person once and he used it to found a company that like, cured eczema or something.” Ned nodded in excitement and Peter hung on to every fabricated word.

“It means you don’t have a chance.” MJ deadpanned. “She’s basically the most perfect human being I’ve ever met. She’s not gonna fall in love with you. You guys are at the bottom of the food chain.”

“I know.” Peter said softly, trying to mask the hurt in his voice. “I just like looking at her.”

“Well quit staring. You look like a stalker.” MJ smirked as she turned her page.

“Dudes, is she coming closer or am I hallucinating again?” Ned patted Peters arm repeatedly until he looked your way. His mouth went dry as you approached his table with a clipboard in your hand.

“She’s coming closer.” MJ confirmed. “Try not to embarrass yourself too much, his royal shyness.”

“Hey, guys. How’s your lunch going?” You asked once you got to the table. Peter and Ned’s jaws dropped as their shared brain cell struggled to find words to say.

“Food good.” Ned grunted out and you let out a laugh.

“Yeah, food is good.” You nodded and looked over at Peter. “Is that a gogurt, Peter?”

“Uh, my aunt packed it. I usually eat big boy yogurt. I mean” he cleared his throat and deepened his voice, “man yogurt.”

“Man yogurt?” MJ grimaced.

“I remember seeing gogurt commercials as a kid and wishing I could dye my hair to look like the pink and blue one.” You smiled softly and touched the end of your hair. “That’s sweet that your aunt still packs your lunch.”

“Well I - - she, sometimes, um - and then she, yeah.” Peter stuttered and shook his head to collect himself. He took a second gogurt out of his lunch box and held it out to you. “Here. She packed me an extra today.”

Your eyes widened like a child as you took the tube from him. He smiled softly at the sight of your excitement and wondered why a random nerd giving you gogurt made you so happy.

“Thank you.” You smiled widely and checked the flavor. “And it’s my favorite kind.”

You and Peter looked at each other for a moment and he felt himself relax. It wasn’t often he got to look at you up close. A lot of his staring was done from afar when you couldn’t see him. Now you were close enough for him to smell your perfume and he didn’t know how to act. He just gazed at you until he heard a chuckled from MJ.

“Hey Michelle. Are you eating or reading over there?” You teased her as you lightly smacked the back of her head.

“I was reading but now I’m watching two dorks struggle to talk to a pretty girl.” She said as she nodded towards Peter and Ned.

“Well I just wanted to ask if you guys were coming to the dance next Friday. I’m head of the planning committee so it’s kinda like my baby. All the details are on that banner over there.” You said as you pointed to the banner behind you.

“Banner good.” Ned nodded eagerly and you laughed again.

“Thank you! I painted it myself.” You told him. “I wasn’t sure about the red and blue but I think it looks all right.”

“I like red and blue, too.” Peter spoke up and you shot him a wink.

“Peter knows his colors!” MJ said in a baby voice. “Do you like trucks and chu chu trains too?”

“Leave him alone, Michelle.” You emphasized her name to taunt her and she stuck her tongue out at you. “Ignore her. She’s not her when she’s hungry.”

Not knowing what to say, Peter nodded and softened his eyes. This was the most he had ever spoken to you, and it was better than all of the conversations with you he had made up in his head. He opened his mouth a few times, but nothing came out. He was finally talking to his long time crush and all he had given you was a gogurt.

“I know Michelle isn’t much of a dancer, but what about you guys? Do you think you’ll come?” You brought the conversation back to the dance when you saw Peter struggling.

“Me like dance. Skirt look good today.” Ned gave you a thumbs up and you looked down at your skirt in amusement.

“Dude, you’re talking like a caveman.” Peter whispered harshly.

“Is he okay?” You asked Peter. You pointed to Ned, who was locked in a trance as he stared at you. Drool was begging to form on his lip.

“I think he’s having a stroke.” Peter said honestly.

“I think he might be dead.” MJ added. “Guess he can’t go to the dance either.

“Okay, um, well I hope you can come then, Peter. It should be a lot of fun.” You smiled at him and tapped the gogurt tube against your head. “See you around.”

“Bye.” Peter squeaked as you walked away, keeping his eyes on you until you were out of view.

“Did you hear that Peter?” Ned shook his arm. “She hopes you come! Wait…”

“That was painful to watch. That, that made me itchy.” MJ concluded.

“Did she just ask me out?” Peter whispered to himself.

“Not at all.” MJ tilted her head in confusion.

“But she said she hopes to see me there. She wants me at her dance. And by correlation, she wants me.” Peters eyes widened as he connected the dots.

“This is like watching the scene where the misunderstood character becomes the villain.” MJ feared for Peters sanity.

“I have to go to that dance. I have to see her.” Peter realized as he turned towards Ned. Ned was already staring off in your direction, watching you give your clipboard out for people to sign.

“Look at her. She looks so cute when she’s asking people to come to the dance she planned.” Ned gushed.

“I bet she planned it better than any dance has ever been planned.” Peter fell back into his trance upon seeing your smile as you passed around the clipboard.

“My original statement stands.” MJ sighed and went back to her book. “You guys are losers.”

~

Peter kept a smile on his face as he carried his science fair project to his locker, the warm feeling inside still lingering from your conversation. It only faltered when he sensed Flash coming up behind him, cocky smirk already prevalent on his face. He smacked the books out of Peters hands and let out a snarky laugh.

“What’s up, Penis Parker? Is this your nerd-vention for the science fair? I heard you have a real shot this year since they’re giving extra points to virgins. Let me see how it works.” Flash poker at the lego lamp Peter was holding and tried to press the on button.

“Leave me alone, Flash. Get your raccoon hands away from it.” Peter sharply moved his project away from Flash, shielding it with his hands as he went.

“Come on. I just want to see how your little project works. Don’t I get a sneak peak?” Flash whined as he reached for the lamp again, managed to knock a few bricks off.

“No. You don’t.” Peter snapped, regretting his words when Flash got an amused look in his eyes.

“Did Penis Parker just tell me no? I don’t know how I feel about that. I think I should do something about it.” Flash said through gritted teeth as he took a step closer to Peter.

“Peter!” You came from behind and wrapped your arms around Peters shoulders, making his and Flash’s eyes widen. “I’ve missed you all day. Why haven’t you been texting me back?”

“What?” Peter asked in exasperation as he turned around. You let your hand slide down his arm and took his hand, all while giving him a sweet smile.

“I sent you like a million texts, baby. Did you not get them?” You tilted your head and silently told Peter to go along with it.

“No way. Not possible.” Flash laughed abruptly. “You’re dating Penis Parker?”

“After I practically had to beg him to give me a chance, yeah.” You nodded and rested your head on Peters shoulder. “I still can’t believe we’re together. I can totally see why you guys call him Penis Parker.” You winked at Flash and he started to gag. It took Peter a minute to get the joke but when he did, it made the situation that much better.

“There is no way a girl as hot as Y/n is dating a loser like Freddie Benson over here.” Flash folded his arms and shook his head. “Am I being pranked? Is there a camera around here? Holy shit, am I gonna be on TV?”

“It’s not a prank, Flash. Peter and I really together. Right, baby?” You turned to Peter and brushed some hair off his forehead, something you’d been wanting to do all day.

“Right.” Peter said confidently and you smiled at him for taking the hint. He adjusted his grip on your hand to be more natural, taking notice of the way it fit in his like it was made just for him.

“So you guys are going to the dance together, I assume?” Flash tested. Peter looked to you in a panic but you were unfazed.

“Yep. Peter asked me last night after surprising me with a bouquet of daisies.” You gushed and rubbed Peters arm, pulling away a little in surprise when you felt his incredibly firm bicep. “Isn’t that cute? It’s because he calls me his daisy.”

“Then I guess I’ll see you guys there. Together.” Flash tried to test you but you didn’t back down.

“Yes you will. Bye Flash.” You waved goodbye to him and he scoffed before leaving. As soon as he was out of earshot, you turned to Peter and assessed the damage on his LEGO lamp.

“Did he break it?” You asked as you put your hands over Peters shaking ones to help him steady the board he was carrying the lamp on.

“I’m Peter.” He blurted and you laughed softly.

“We had a conversation an hour ago where I used your name several times. I know your name is Peter.” You told him as you picked up the books Flash had knocked down.

“My last name is Parker.” He nodded, knowing he was blowing it with you but not knowing how to stop it.

“I know that too.” You assured him. “This is really cool, by the way. Did you make this all by yourself?”

“Well, I, yeah.” Peter kept his eyes on his project, finding it easier to talk when he wasn’t looking at you.

“Looks like he knocked this part off. He’s such an idiot some- all of the time.” You corrected yourself. “Is it gonna be hard to fix? I know the science fair is this Friday.”

“No. It’s just legos, see?” Peter put a few red bricks back in their place. “I just have to get Ned to help me glue the pieces down.”

“I never had legos as a kid. My mom thought it would make me a tomboy.” You laughed shortly and Peter noticed a sadness in your eyes. “I uh, I heard you and Ned talking about the Death Star the other day. It sounded pretty cool. Do you have a lot of sets?”

“Not that many. Only 12.” He told you, wondering why you were interested in something like that. He always assumed a girl of your popularity and status would find a LEGO Death Star completely lame.

“12?” You were impressed. “Which ones your favorite?”

“The Ferris wheel.” He answered without thinking. “It has a motor so it really turns.”

“Can I see it?” You asked and he laughed nervously.

“It’s at my house, so…” He trailed off when you nodded like you already understood where it was.

“Do you want to come over?” He asked as more of a question than an offer. He couldn’t think of a single reason that you would want to go to his apartment.

“Would that be all right? I’ve always wanted to play with legos.” You said sheepishly and he opened his mouth in pleasant surprise.

“People are gonna talk if they see us walking home together.” He reminded you and you furrowed your eyebrows.

“Who cares?” You handed him his back back and took his hand. “You’re my boyfriend now, aren’t you?”

“I-“ Peter tensed and felt every word he knew leave his brain as he struggled to string together a sentence.

“Hey, relax. I’m only kidding.” You squeezed his hand and he calmed down. “Fake boyfriend, remember? I do want to play with legos, though.”

“I can help you out with that.” He said stiffly and you tugged him towards the doors.

“Come on, then.” You pulled him outside and the warm air hit his face, reminding him that he wasn’t sleeping.

“Okay.” He smiled to himself as he lead you towards his apartment as he held your hand. If you clocked the stunned looks from other students as you passed by, you didn’t show it. Peter was living out his greatest fantasy and you were acting like nothing was out of the ordinary. Determined not to blow this once in a lifetime chance with you, he kept his pace up and fell into an easy stride beside you. You did most of the talking as you walked towards his apartment, which Peter was grateful for. He was able to sneak you past May and braced himself for what could possibly happen next as he opened the door to his bedroom.

Tag List 🏷

@a-villain-vying-for-attention @wendaiii @dorbiksbitch @t-monosapiens-h @badhollandfluff @silteplaittais-toi @thisisthebiplace​ @seasidecrowbar​

[friendofhayley]

I’m back after my hiatus from fanfiction, to give y’all the best multifandom recs of the fics I read this month. Shoutout to all content creators who helped us live to see the close of this year. This fic includes 15 fics for Sterek, Larry, Winteriron, and Geraskier. The starred ones put me through heaven and hell *chef’s kiss*.

Sterek (Teen Wolf)

1. Six Letter Word for Romance by @troubleiwant | domestic kink - omg there’s only one bed - soft Derek - oblivious idiots in love - 6k

Stiles definitely starts off thinking it’s fucking hilarious that Derek-sourwolf-Hale does crosswords and cares about scuffs on his furniture.

But at a certain point, and he can’t pinpoint exactly when, “fully functional adult couple” somehow becomes a massive fetish of his. Derek in sweats and bare feet, nudging his glasses up his nose while he does the Sunday crossword? Unff. Derek filling out forms to get some renovations on his property approved? Oh God, yes. Derek putting away groceries and bitching that the corner store was out of the right type of Greek yogurt? Take me now, Stiles thinks, worrying at his lower lip with his teeth.

This can’t be normal.

2. *Dirty Little Secret* by @isthatbloodonhisshirt | Cora & Stiles bffs - no one can resist the Stilinski charm - celebrity Derek - human au - 91k

“Holy shit, this is a date!” he blurted out, turning back to Derek wide-eyed. “This is a date! You intended for this to be a date, this was supposed to be a date!” He figured if he said it enough times, maybe he would believe it, but so far, no dice.

Derek was scowling again—seriously, did he want wrinkles?—but he just reached into one of the bags and pulled out a burger, checking what was written on the foil in sharpie before handing it over to Stiles.

“Of course it’s a date, what did you think this was?”

3. Can You Feel A Whole New Part of Your World? by @isthatbloodonhisshirt | i genuinely don’t look at authors names i just click i am sorry for spamming you but you write too good - neighbors Sterek - emotionally mature Stiles - the ideal fluffy world you’d want to live in - 53k

Can you hear me singing in the shower?” Stiles blurted out, because he had to know, now. If one of his neighbours had slid that note under his door, then it meant Parrish as another neighbour could hear him, too! He had to know if this was all a huge joke and one person had walked by and overheard him and decided to fuck with him.

Parrish gave him a weird look at the question, but answered anyway, making Stiles’ plans to leave the country speed up in his mind.

“Of course I can. You’re actually not bad. Though you have been singing a lot of Frozen lately, getting kind of tired of the soundtrack.”

4. Theory of Overprotective Canines by @petals42 | derek can turn into wolf - oblivious Stiles - future fic - mutual pining - 11k

Stiles is totally looking forward to living alone in his super cool apartment off-campus. He is. He is also very excited to bike to school every day, ready to set up an awesome game room, and definitely over his crush on Derek Hale. Completely over it.

Or at least he is until Derek decides he's moving in with him. And then turns out to be the perfect roommate. And then starts attending all his classes. As a wolf.

This is not going according to plan.

Larry (One Direction)

5. **The Changer and the Changed** by @homosociallyyours | literally the best fic of all time i want to live in there - girl direction - NYC ‘70s au - trans Zayn - the girls are so lovely - 59k

It’s the spring of 1977 and Harry Styles has just moved to New York City after graduating college. She knows she’s a lesbian. She just needs to figure out how to meet other lesbians.

Louis Tomlinson works at a popular women’s bookstore in the Lower East Side, Womon’s Direction, where she spends her days reading feminist literature, writing poetry, exchanging friendly barbs with her boss Niall, and dreaming of finding someone to love.

When Harry and Louis meet, their connection is instantaneous. Slowly but surely, Louis welcomes Harry into her community of women. Stonewall veteran and old school butch Niall; Liam, a land dyke who’s moved to the city for love; and Zayn, a lesbian musician who’s been ostracized by a vocal part of women’s community for being trans, welcome Harry with open arms, ready to help her find her place in New York City’s bustling lesbian scene.

6. others i’ve seen might never be mean (but they would never do) by @cherrylouvol6 | aaaaaaaa it’s lesbian When Harry Met Sally !!! - rom com - girl direction - coming out and first times - really great sex - 20k

Louis sighs.

“Do you remember what I said to you the first time we met?”

“That I’m naive and neurotic and would be hard pressed to ever find someone who could put up with me?” Harry snaps.

7. some things fade (some never do) by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed | aaaaaa this story took me apart and back together again just like Louis and Harry - urban fantasy au - second chances - exes to friends to lovers - hurt/comfort - 25k

Matching tattoos. He’d never thought he’d be the type for tattoos to begin with, let alone matching or magical ones, but once Harry had put the idea in his mind it had never quite managed to disappear. And it had made sense. With their relationship a long distance one, this was simply another way of feeling close to one another. Of knowing where the other was, how they felt. It had made so much sense.

Back then.

8. we can take the long way home by @eleadore | i usually don’t rec my porn but there’s so much feels in this one - canon-divergent - kink discovery - friends to lovers - this was written in 2015 as a future fic but it felt like it was taking place now so good job - 27k

“Fertile,” Louis says, and then laughs because it sounds stupid to say out loud. He hasn’t ever really thought of himself in those terms. Baby-making terms. It’s just one of those things his body can do, like exercise, or go without tea. Doesn’t mean he will.

Winteriron (MCU)

9. **Dig No Graves** by @missaphelion | Tony finds out about his parents right after winter soldier au - Tony Stark has a heart - Bucky heals with bots and lots of sugar - slow burn - 142k

"I'm here to kill you, Terminator," Tony said slowly, "does that compute?"

The soldier looked up at him with wide blue eyes and no expression. "Okay."

Tony froze. "Okay," he echoed. "I tell you I came here to kill you and your response is 'okay'?"

10. A Rifling Matter by Penndragon27 | Winter Soldier has such a big crush on Tony’s weapons, he escapes Hydra au - identity porn - pining Bucky - fluff and angst - Winter Soldier is a fanboy and it’s cute - 37k

All the Asset knows is fighting, killing.

He also knows a good weapon when he sees one and Stark Industries... they make some great weapons.

11. *Winter is Coming (aka Fifty First Avengers Dates)* by @tisfan & @everyworldneedslove | enemies to friends to lovers to 50 first dates - pining Bucky - Tony gets amnesia - no Steve bashing but he’s a little bit of an ass - mental health issues - 109k

Bucky Barnes is still mostly The Asset, and he's pretty sure Hydra is going to come back for him soon, so in the meantime he's just going to keep an eye on the Avengers for them. But then Clint spotted him hiding in the shadows, so Tony came out and dragged Bucky back to the Tower, threw him in the shower, and fed him cheeseburgers.

Now The Asset is having anomalous feelings. In his pants.

Geraskier (The Witcher)

12. *no reason to run* by @yoursummerfrost | different meeting au - only one bed but camping - cursed Jaskier - soft Geralt!!!! - poly negotiations - 61k

"You'll change your mind one day," says the innkeep. "The road can't love you back."

What a strange way to flatten something so beautiful, Jaskier thinks. What a small way to love.

13. *He Fell into a Faerie Ring* by @geraltnoises | Jaskier gets bardnapped after the fight au - non-human Jaskier - soft Geralt - Jaskier encourages people to be kind and becomes a god - emotionally mature Geralt - 57k

Traders are a gossiping sort. If there was a scandal within the noble houses of Posada, you’d hear about it in Cretegor by the end of the week. So, the quick spread of a rumor about a little village in the Kestrel Mountain range was not at all surprising. What was surprising was the story that the traders wove. They said that Luibhtorrach, a sad, ghost of a farming town, had miraculously become a hub for trade, as if overnight. Their lands unbelievably fertile and brimming with crop. Even stranger, each and every one of Luibhtorrach’s people professed that their good fortune was the work of a mysterious beast they’d claimed as their personal deity. Most recent news foretold of their plans to throw a midsummer festival celebrating this newfound god. In preparation, silken blue banners were erected in every corner of the town, each bearing the symbol of their new patron: A delicate dandelion wrapping around a golden sun.

14. Barking Up the Wrong Tree by KHansen | 5+1 things - I’m worried about Geralt’s skills - non-human Jaskier - monsterfucker Geralt - crack treated seriously - 11k

Geralt is 100% certain that Jaskier is a vampire.

He's 100% proven wrong.

15. Bardic Idyll by Lisztful | fake relationship - Geralt is soft and oblivious - pining - fluff and angst - Jaskier you can’t show your emotions mainly through song! - 13k

Jaskier is certain he can win the Continent's annual bardic competition, but he needs to be accompanied by a dashing romantic companion in order to enter. Enter Geralt, who is definitely, for sure, only interested in the free food, and not at all in staring lovingly into Jaskier's eyes.

[parvuls]

fic: at certain times

word count: 12k

tags: year 2 canon-divergence, getting together, first kiss

summary: The Swallow's Samwell Awards issue of '15 crowns Jack and Bitty as Samwell's cutest couple. It is somewhat unfortunate, then, that they're not actually a couple at all.

read on ao3

.

.

The kitchen smells like something burnt, a smoky tang that clings to the walls and floors, stings inside Bitty’s nose. April should smell like hot cross buns and zucchini bread, he thinks wistfully, but it turns out that some Aprils poor ovens are pushed to their last legs prematurely, leaving his kitchen smelling like Ransom forgot his frozen pizza in the microwave again.

Dex has been tending to Betsy on her deathbed all month, spending most of his free hours at the Haus. Bitty called him again after class, while he was standing in Superberry with Jack, and promised to pay for his services with froyo. Said froyo -- which Jack insisted on paying for, bless him -- is still on the table, untouched, yogurt melting over the rim of the paper cup and dripping onto the wood. Dex has been kneeling in the same strip of sunlight on the floor since he arrived with his toolbox. Bitty isn’t sure what exactly he’s been doing, but he seems to be too busy waving a screwdriver in the air and ranting to remember his abandoned bribe.

“So we finally got over the fucking Samwell Republican sticker thing,” Dex says, his face red and his brow furrowed. He’s been disgruntled all day because of an email he’d received, which he claims Nursey will never let him live down. "And Bitty, I know this is Massachusetts, okay? But I haven’t even actually voted yet! Fucking Swallow. How can I be Best Republican?"

Bitty hunches over in his chair, palms clasped together on his knees like a prayer. He’s anxiously following the motions of Dex’s screwdriver with his eyes while listening with only half an ear, deeply confused by the conversation subject. “The Swallow does pieces on politics? I can’t even imagine what an article like that’d look like, honestly.”

Dex grumbles quietly, shoving a hand under his backwards snapback to scratch at his hair. “No, it’s like -- their Samwell Awards thing? I don’t know, I just got an email about it this morning. I guess it’s like that 50 Most Beautiful shit they do.”

Bitty’s never heard of it, but then again, Bitty carefully sidesteps most articles of The Swallow whenever he comes across them. Those guys write about their team an uncomfortable amount for a university with almost ten thousand students. As long as Holster or Ransom aren’t reading it aloud at team breakfast, Bitty’s not eager to find out what The Swallow has to say.

He asks, though, because Dex seems to be upset about this and his frogs need to be handled with care. “Like in high school yearbooks?” Heather Barron was his class’ Best Laugh back home, and she made everyone who signed her yearbook tell her a joke so she could laugh for them.

“I guess,” Dex says distractedly. He bends down low to reach something close to the floor. “This girl from my Intro to CompSci class got the same email about it -- she won Best Dressed. I mean, who even judges these things? That’s a matter of taste.”

Dex wipes a dusty hand across his forehead and Bitty momentarily forgets to care about The Swallow in favor of looking on worriedly. Betsy is unplugged from the wall with her back side facing the room, surrounded by loose cables and scattered bolts. She looks old and frail. Bitty kind of feels like he’s watching an open-heart surgery occurring right in front of him.

“Can you save her?” Bitty presses a hand over his heart, dreading the reply. Dex wrinkles his forehead even further and doesn’t meet Bitty’s eyes.

It is then that their ordinary afternoon is interrupted by three emphatic knocks on the front door of the Haus.

"Did someone just knock on our door?" Shitty yells from somewhere down the hall. Bitty assumes he’s still curled up on the couch of sins in a t-shirt and flimsy underwear, mourning his grandparents’ affirmative RSVP response to graduation.

His tone sounds downright shocked at the sound, but that’s probably reasonable. Bitty’s been living in the Haus for over nine months now and he’s never once heard anyone knock on that door. It’s always unlocked, anyway; it’s actually nothing short of a miracle that they’ve never been burglarized. Not that there’d be anything to steal, of course, other than Holster’s collector's edition Simpsons DVD box set, or maybe one of Jack’s used jerseys to be sold to the highest bidder on ebay.

"Well, whaddaya know,” Ransom appears in the hallway outside the kitchen doorframe, likely summoned downstairs by the abnormal noise. His eyebrows are high on his forehead as he stares down the hall at the door. “It didn't collapse. I told you it’s sturdier than it looks."

Neither of the boys makes a move to actually open the door. There’s a second set of knocks, this one slightly louder than the first, and Bitty huffs as he gets off his chair. He casts one last hopeful look over his shoulder. Maybe, he wishes silently, Betsy has performance issues and would be magically fixed once she’s not under his constant scrutiny. Or maybe Dex does, and would magically fix her. “Y’all, when someone knocks on a door, they generally expect you to open it for them.”

He shoulder-checks Ransom on the way to yanking the door open, and is presented with some guy Bitty’s never seen before standing on their front steps. He’s wearing an atrociously ugly plaid vest and an awfully wide smile, which only grows wider when he sees that it’s Bitty who’s opening the door.

“Eric Bittle!”

“Yes?” Bitty agrees, eyebrows drawing together. He’s usually pretty good with faces, but he doesn’t think he’s seen this guy in any of his classes. Maybe a hockey fan. Still -- Bitty’s mother brought him up right, and he’s resolved to stick to his manners even if he now lives in a frat house. Someone with malicious intentions, he rationalizes to himself, wouldn't knock before entering. “Hi. Wouldya like to come in? I’m afraid our oven’s down, so I don’t have much to offer in terms of baked goods --”

“Oh, no, that won’t be necessary!” The man dismisses quickly, his smile not waning any; it’s hard not to eye it suspiciously. Absently, Bitty can make out the sound of feet shuffling, which presumably means the boys are crowding together behind him to peer curiously at the stranger on their doorstep. “I’m from The Swallow, I’m here to deliver a message for you. And Jack Zimmermann, but I’m sure you can pass it on. Our annual Samwell Awards issue is coming out early next month, as you know --”

“Sure,” Bitty confirms politely, although he’s never heard of the thing until about two minutes ago. There’s no sense in getting the man down.

“-- and we wanted your response on the win. We do that for the real popular categories. If you want to draft a short statement, you can reply to the email we sent you two --”

“I’m sorry,” Bitty cuts him off, maintaining a carefully polite tone. He hasn’t checked his email since the previous night, too preoccupied with avoiding his American Publics essay and fretting over Betsy. Somewhere behind him there are more heavy footsteps coming down the stairs and one of the boys whispers excitedly, Bitty won a Samwell Award!, though he’s not sure which. “What win? Who’s you two?”

“Oh,” the Swallow guy blinks, obviously taken aback. His smile doesn’t completely disappear but thankfully thins a little bit, at last stretching over less than two thirds of his face. He looks marginally less maniacal like this, Bitty thinks uncharitably. “You and Jack Zimmermann?”

There’s another shuffle of feet. Bitty turns his head to catch Jack pushing Shitty aside, coming to stand a step behind Bitty’s right shoulder. Bitty hasn’t seen him since they got back from Superberry and Jack headed upstairs to study, chirping Bitty for not doing the same all the while. He’s taken his thin fleece jacket off since, and the soft V-neck he’s had underneath clings to his biceps, to the shape of his pecs. His hair is messy, the smell of his aftershave hasn’t faded yet, and his palm rests lightly between Bitty’s shoulder blades to keep his balance in the narrow, crammed doorway. Bitty’s stomach jumps at the sight of him and he can feel a reflexive smile tugging at his lips. It’s an uncontrollable reaction to Jack’s presence, no matter how many times Bitty’s seen him that day. Good gracious, but it’s plumb pathetic.

Jack is oblivious to Bitty’s eyes on him, too busy frowning at the Swallow guy from above Bitty’s head. “What is this about?”

The guy’s expression is clearly confused, despite the upturned mouth in his creasing face. His eyes survey the huddled group in front of him searchingly, as if waiting for them to catch up. When no one adds anything his smile drops entirely and he says: “You guys won Cutest Couple!”

Time seems to slow down while Bitty’s mind stomps on an emergency break and short-circuits completely. He knows things are happening in the backdrop, can hear someone behind him, probably Holster, choking really loudly on their spit, but none of it truly registers.

The Swallow guy is frowning now, looking completely baffled as to why they’re not enthused at the news. “Seriously, did you not get the email?”

“We. What?” is the only thing Bitty manages weakly. Whatever smile was on his face is thoroughly wiped off now. His heartbeat begins pounding in his ears, drowning out any further background noise under its heavy thrumming. From the brief glance he braves, Jack is not coping much better. His mouth is opening and closing silently.

"Yeah!” The guy recovers, apparently blind to the catastrophe he’s inadvertently causing. “I mean, I’ll be honest, some of the staff was like, ‘enough with the fucking hockey team’, and Khalil and Sara who did that awesome Halloween costume, they came really close -- but I was totally on your side. Anyway, the draft should be in your inboxes. We’d like to have your response in the next couple of days so we can start running it. The more romantic and gooey the better, of course. Thank you!"

He smiles and then skips down the stairs before Bitty’s brain fully catches up with what has just occurred on his front porch. He can barely grasp at tail ends of thoughts before they slip away from him, disappearing in a cloudy daze of absolute horror. His pulse is still racing and his fingers, wrapped around the door handle, are trembling.

Behind him, Ransom makes a slow wheezy sound and then descends into hysterical laughter. Bitty’s feeling rather hysterical himself, actually, but he’s not in the mood for laughing at all.

.

.

.

“Can’t believe it’s another year we didn’t win Best Party,” Holster mopes back in the kitchen, sprawled out spread-legged in a chair with his arms crossed over his chest. “It’s because of Alpha Sigma Phi and their fucking tropical Christmas party, I know it, Rans, I can feel it in my booze bones. Like, okay, they served drinks in real coconuts while bare-ass naked in twenty degrees, so what."

Ransom reaches out to give him a consolatory clap on the back. "We've always got next year, bro. Our names will appear on the holy Swallow pages, I promise."

“You’re right,” Holster sighs rather dramatically, sagging down a few extra inches in the chair. “We mustn’t despair. I’ve already bookmarked some ideas -- think we can keep live parrots in the Haus? Only for a few hours!”

“What I would like to know,” Shitty muses, stroking his mustache between two fingers while looking from Jack to Bitty’s flaming face and back again, “is who the fuck is their source. I mean, no offence, Bits, but if anybody is going to be Jackie’s fake-ass boytoy I call double fucking dibs and I’m willing to fight you on it.” He then considers it for a split second longer and says, “Or negotiate with food, honestly, I’m amendable.”

“Cooking is a touchy subject right now,” Dex mumbles from his perch by the counter, away from the cluster of boys that’s spread out at the table.

Dex looks like Bitty feels, actually: like he’s seriously regretting being present in this instance, and is looking for any excuse to make a quick escape. Or -- maybe only partially how Bitty feels, anyway. There’s another whole side of Bitty that’s feeling like there’s a vacuum in his chest, a ringing in his ears, a voice in his mind whispering, they know, they all know, Jack knows and he hates you for it.

Bitty has been studiously avoiding Jack’s face since they all withdrew from the door. He’s convinced that his feelings are written all over his face, pining daydreams altering his features and sappy midnight fantasies painting his cheeks bright red. He’s sure that one look in his eyes would give away every guilty thought he’s had since November, so he determinedly keeps his head down. Only, then Jack clears his throat and Bitty can’t help but spring his eyes up to look at him -- like a moth drawn to the flame that’d inevitably scorch it.

"Well, whatever is the misunderstanding, obviously they can't actually run that, Bittle. I mean, because. Hockey, and." His eyebrows do something complicated that Bitty cannot bring himself to study too closely.

The words hit like a two-hundred pound flour bag dropped on Bitty’s chest, weighing him down into the floor. Bitty tries to swallow, fails, tries again. His throat still grates like it’s made of raw sandpaper when he speaks.

"Right, no, of course," there’s this horrible sinking in his gut, a phantom sensation of freefalling that tastes like acid when it reaches the back of his tongue. "Of course, Jack. I know that. The last thing you need right now is --" he finally swallows past the lump in his throat, drops his eyes to watch his toes curl inside his shoes and dent the fabric upwards. “-- rumors about the gay kid on your team.”

Shitty says, “Bitty,” with a sharp edge in his tone, and when Bitty looks up Jack looks like he’s been struck.

"Hold on, Bittle, that's --"

“It’s okay, Jack!” Bitty makes a valiant effort to smile reassuringly. His chest is growing tighter and tighter, and he really can’t handle hearing Jack’s explanation right now. He feels like he’s shaking all over, like more and more words are being rattled out of his mouth without his permission. “I mean, it’s utterly ridiculous, but that’s The Swallow for you, I ‘spose. We’ll tell them it’s nonsense before anyone in the league catches wind of it. I’m sorry I even put your career at risk like that, honestly.”

“Bittle,” Jack says again, more firmly. He looks almost angry.

Holster’s stunned look is flickering between the two of them, and Bitty can feel the humiliation crawling up the back of his neck. He thinks that if he stays sitting in the kitchen any longer the boys might actually hear the splintering sounds his heart is making in his chest. Or he might start crying, whichever comes first.

“Don’t worry about it, really,” Bitty forces himself out of his chair, squeezes Jack’s elbow in passing for good measure, even though bringing his hands anywhere near Jack feels like torture. He doesn’t want Jack to feel guilty about this -- it’s not his fault. “It’s fine. I gotta go, I’m meeting Prof. Atley, but we’ll talk about it later, okay?”

He bolts out of the kitchen and rushes down the hall. The last thing he hears is Ransom saying, “Dude, I’m pretty sure his meeting with her was like, four hours ago,” before the Haus door slams shut behind him.

.

.

.

The worst part is, Bitty knows Jack is straight.

Jack dates 50 Most girls from the tennis team, he takes ladies in tall heels to Screw, he brings puck bunnies to his room during kegsters. Or -- that turned out, actually, to be not all that true after all -- but.

Jack is straight. Bitty knew this all along. Bitty knew this and still let his foolish, stubborn heart say, maybe. Bitty saw Jack laughing at his weak chirps, and looking at him sometimes when Bitty was turned away, and there was that party, with Parse, and Bitty’s blood was rushing in his ears and he tried so hard not to listen, but they almost looked like they -- and Bitty thought, maybe --

But Jack wasn’t. Of course not. And Bitty knows it’s so unfair and so unjustified that he’s allowing himself to be mad about Jack’s words. Because these boys accept Bitty for who he is, have never shied away from him, have always been comfortable with his presence in their lives and their house and their locker room, and that’s not something to be taken for granted. It’s not their fault that they’re straight and that’s easier, not their fault that Jack’s straight and Bitty can’t bring himself to let go. Besides, something like this, it could wreck Jack's career even if it were true, and it isn't, so of course Jack would want it gone. It's not personal, Bitty knows. He has no reason to be so hurt.

Except maybe it stings a little, how untrue it really is. Maybe it burns a little inside to know that other people see what he sees, what he wishes were true, and still know that he can never have that for real. And maybe it hurts, that Jack can so easily make the article go away and never deal with those rumors again, because it's simply not true about him, but it will always be true about Bitty. Maybe he’s tired of how he will always have to fight for his place while people like Jack Zimmermann can walk right in.

Maybe.

But none of it is Jack's fault. Because Jack is straight, and Bitty isn’t, and he’s gone and fallen in love with him anyway.

.

.

.

Breakfast with only Lardo and Jack is a quiet affair the next morning. Habit has them settled down at the team’s usual long table, but they take up significantly less space just the three of them. Bitty is surprised by the two empty seats remaining to each side of them despite the crowded dining hall, but considers that maybe the Samwell population knows whose seats are available and aren't willing to risk it.

Lardo is chewing her toast silently by Bitty's side, oversized hoodie draped over most of her face. Jack is sitting across from them, peeling the shells off a pile of hard-boiled eggs. His body is curved in a stiff line over his plate and his elbows are tucked in close to his sides. He keeps sneaking glances at Bitty every few minutes, looking torn; Bitty busies himself with spooning exactly three banana slices in every dip into his oatmeal bowl, keeps hurriedly shoving them into his mouth every time Jack looks like maybe he’s going to actually say something.

Bitty spent the majority of the previous night hiding out in a quiet corner of Norris library, binging episodes of The Great British Bake Off on his phone. When he ultimately found the courage to come back to the Haus, he power-walked straight into his room and didn’t venture out for anything more than brushing his teeth. The walls in the Haus are thin, however, and he could still hear Jack in his own room through the closed doors, speaking on the phone with his father in brisk French. They didn't exactly sound angry, but Bitty had unintentionally overheard enough of Jack’s phone conversations to recognize Jack’s business tone easily.

Jack’s lawyer had sent The Swallow a sternly phrased email first thing that morning -- for formality, Jack informed Bitty when the two of them left the Haus for breakfast with Lardo. His hands were tucked deep in his pockets and his eyes were hidden beneath the bill of his Habs cap. He kept his body angled away from Bitty, maintaining a careful six feet between them, and Bitty’s whole body ached like he’d spent the night playing consecutive shifts instead of tossing and turning in his bed. It was the only time they’ve acknowledged the Swallow article since the previous afternoon. Bitty changed the subject immediately after, and prattled meaninglessly the whole way to Commons.

The three of them separate after breakfast, Lardo heading for the studio and Jack and Bitty for their respective classes. Bitty spends most of his spare noon hours trying to do work in the kitchen, but he steals longing glimpses at Betsy more often than he does the reading for US Intellectual HIST or the darn American Publics essay he still hasn’t started.

This day needs an assist, he justifies when he eventually deserts his open notes on the table in favor of hunting down a clean towel. Polishing dishes is a more effective way to escape his blues. Maybe he’ll make some jam -- that doesn’t require a working oven, and it’d be a longer-term distraction from the mess he’s landed in.

Jack’s lawyer's actions in mind, the knock on the Haus door doesn’t really surprise Bitty. He can’t help the way his body tenses at the sound, though; the blood rushing through his body is too much like the terrible lightheadedness he experiences when checked.

Jack comes down the stairs, taking them two at a time, and grinds to a halt when he sees Bitty leaning against the wall at the entrance to the kitchen and staring at the door.

“It’s probably the Swallow rep,” Jack states the obvious, voice completely monotonous and face blank.

Bitty's gut lurches. He tries his very best, but he’s certain that his smile looks even more put-on than it was the day before.

“We should probably go get it, then,” he says. He keeps his hands wrapped in the dish towel as they move to open the door, to have something to do with them and to cover up the way they’re shaking.

The guy standing on the bottom of their stairs is the same one from yesterday. His loose printed shirt is somehow even uglier than the plaid vest, but this time no smile is taking up the majority of his face. In fact, he isn’t smiling at all; he kind of looks like he’s been sent to the gallows and couldn't beg out of his sentence.

“We've been informed that a mistake was made,” the guy says promptly, glancing between the two of them. Everything about his face and his body language appears cautious.

“Yes,” Jack confirms firmly. The guy blinks in sync with Bitty, both of them waiting to see if Jack has any intention to follow that statement with an explanation, but none seems imminent.

“We understand that it’s an honest mistake and we just want it scrapped," Bitty says instead, trying to keep his voice from betraying any emotion, even when his vocal cords are wound tight. "We can't be the cutest couple if we're not -- if we're not."

“You talked to your lawyer,” the guy says faintly. Bitty's not sure that he actually heard a word of what was said. He keeps eyeing Jack’s rigid posture and bulging muscles like he’s afraid that he’s going to be dragged into a fist fight right there on the lawn.

“It’s a legal matter,” Jack replies curtly, frowning.

“No one ever sent his lawyer after us,” the guy says, fainter still. “It’s just The Swallow, man.”

Jack's frown deepens. He’s wearing his hockey face, mouth pinched and eye narrowed, every angle of his face turning sharper. He looks serious, assertive, like he’s getting ready to step out on the ice for the puck drop. Bitty’s heart hurts so badly looking at him that he has to turn away. His eyes, mid-movement, catch on three faces eavesdropping from behind the living room’s doorway. He just barely suppresses a heavy sigh.

"-- you’d be spreading misinformation with unwelcome consequences,” Jack is talking, apparently, and Bitty tuned out most of it. “So you understand why we need you to retract that immediately and delete all further copies."

"Yes," the guy nods tentatively, eyes jerking in Bitty’s direction and then immediately back to Jack. "I'm -- sorry? We really thought you were --"

"Well we ain't," Bitty says, wringing the towel in his hands to hinder an uncommon urge to break something with them.

"Yes, I -- I understand," the guy seems as spooked by Bitty now, contemplating him and the towel as warily as he did Jack. "But we --"

"And I've got a date!" Bitty blurts, before he can hold his tongue from making his situation worse. Shitty whispers, the fuck, brah?, loud enough to carry all the way to the front door. "A date! With. Someone else, obviously, who is very much not Jack Zimmermann, so if you could -- make it go away -- good heavens this could be embarrassing for my date --"

"Of course,” the guy is nodding more vigorously now, head bouncing much like a dashboard bobblehead. He takes a cautious step back. “We're, uh, sorry. We’ll take care of it."

The guy retreats from the porch, glancing back every few steps as he hastens down the sidewalk.

Jack shuts the door behind them when they step back inside, and has to move closer to Bitty to allow the door to close. It brings his arm flush with Bitty’s back, solid and warm through the thin fabric of his shirt.

Bitty’s breath catches. His look flits sideways to watch Jack’s face twist into something Bitty hasn’t seen since the playoffs last year. He really felt like Jack and him were getting steadily closer throughout the year, considers Jack one of his closest friends, but he doesn’t think he’s imagining the distance between them in the last twenty-four hours. It’s more painful than the verbal confirmation that Jack will never like him back was. It’s painful that Bitty’s been shoving his feelings so far down to avoid this very outcome, only to have it blow up in his face through no fault of his own.

"What's that now!” Holster’s booming voice snaps Bitty out of his brooding, and he jerks his eyes up to see that Ransom, Shitty and Holster have crawled out of their eavesdropping spot and are blocking the hallway. “You've got a what and didn't tell us!"

“It’s not a big deal, y’all,” Bitty mumbles, mortified at how much he’s really not lying at all. He slinks away from Jack’s touch, tries to at least be subtle about it. Jack's expression is shuttering further with every moment that passes and Bitty is feeling irrationally miserable about it.

“Is too, Bits!” Ransom claps him on the shoulder excitedly, shaking his entire frame. "You know you gotta tell us all about it, we get veto rights! Is he hot? What's his name? Is he going to be your shoulders for Spring C?"

Bitty’s lousy day has only been getting progressively worse, which he thinks validates the way he bristles and knocks Ransom's hand off his shoulder. "I am average height, Justin Oluransi!"

.

.

.

So it's not -- really a date.

Anthony from his Eating Practices Since the 19th Century course, who sits two seats away from Bitty and always forgets to bring a pen, caught up with him after class and offered to study together. Bitty’s doing alright in that course, but Anthony is smart and friendly and it’s a good incentive to actually get some work done before finals, so Bitty smiled and said yes. He didn’t think a few days later he’d be lying about it to his friends.

They meet outside Annie’s because Anthony preferred it to Founder’s, which Bitty didn’t mind. He was a little embarrassed about how the librarians might react to the sight of his face. They, unlike some others, don’t have a problem believing he’s a member of the Men’s Hockey Team, and the treatment earned by his teammates’ behavior extends to him.

Ransom wouldn’t let him leave the Haus until his outfit has been appraised, which means he’s maybe a little overdressed for a platonic study date -- but Anthony is in nice jeans and wearing neither a team logo shirt nor a marijuana crop top, so he’s already setting the bar higher than Bitty’s usual company.

"After you," Anthony beams, opening the door for Bitty. It’s awfully nice of him. Maybe Bitty should consider running cotillion classes for his boys before graduation.

It’s easier to revert to his sunny nature in the company of someone new. Anthony keeps up chatter about the last subjects they covered in class, relates to Bitty’s chronic procrastination tendencies, and even insists on paying for both of their drinks. Bitty tries to refuse, instantly dejected by the stark reminder of coffee runs with Jack, but Anthony argues that they’d probably refill several times and Bitty can get the next one. His winning smile is so convincing that Bitty can’t find it in himself to say no.

It happens again when Bitty begins leading them to a larger table in the middle of the café where they’ll have more room to spread out. Anthony points at a table by the windows instead, says, “There, it’ll be quieter,” and Bitty instinctively thinks, those are the windows Jack and I always sit by. He then thinks, good Lord, ERB, get a hold of yourself, and agrees. There’s not much point in attending a study date if he’ll be constantly thinking about Jack Zimmermann.

They spread out all their notes and laptops and books, settling on both sides of the small, round table. Anthony drinks his coffee extra hot and the steam fogs up his glasses, which causes Bitty to laugh and Anthony to grin sheepishly. It sets a good mood for their joint studying.

They work decently well together. Anthony's been more diligent with his schoolwork but Bitty is a faster reader than him, so they catch up with each other fairly quickly and proceed from there. Bitty finds it fun, partnering with someone who doesn’t consider violent food breaks an essential part of studying, and enjoys having somebody to complain about the professor with. The two of them are just starting on technological advances at the end of the century when Bitty’s shoulders fully loosen for the first time in three days and he thinks: this is going well, this is nice, maybe we can do this more often.

This is also the exact point he looks up to tell Anthony about Louis Pasteur and catches Holster and Ransom spying on him from outside Annie’s front window.

His knee-jerk response is uncontainable: he groans out loud. Anthony seems alarmed, twisting in his chair to look over his shoulder and detect what Bitty’s glaring at. Ransom, who clearly knows they’ve been caught, looks directly at Anthony with a deliberately threatening face, pointing two fingers at his eyes, then at Anthony, and back at his eyes.

Anthony makes a confused face into his mug and says, "Um."

"Gosh, I am so sorry," Bitty drops his face into his palms, trying to smother the waves of heat rushing to his cheeks. "It's my teammates -- they have no boundaries and they -- gracious, they think this is a date --"

Anthony swallows a mouthful of coffee too quickly before he sets his mug on the table. "Oh, uh. Do you… not think this is a date?"

Bitty lets his hands fall into his lap. His eyes dart to where Holster and Ransom are waving their thumbs up in the air as they mercifully walk away from the window and then back to Anthony, whose face is unmoving. "...What?"

The top of Anthony's cheeks pink, and he adjusts the glasses on his nose with a knuckle. "I... totally asked you meaning this to be a date."

"Oh," Bitty exhales numbly. Oh, butter my butt and call me a biscuit, he thinks, and then opens his mouth to say something to Anthony -- anything at all, because the poor boy is starting to squirm in his chair -- but all his words seem to get stubbornly stuck behind his teeth.

Because Anthony is perfectly nice. He’s mild-mannered, has a pleasant smile, and he's made Bitty laugh in class a few times when the professor wasn't looking. He's sitting across from Bitty with his hands twitching on top of the table, like Bitty's answer on the matter of their date is important to him. Like he would actually really like it to be one, so he found the courage to ask.

"Oh boy, I really didn't realize," Bitty confesses, finally, clutching his coffee tightly between his fingers. He's never thought he'd be this bad at this, but apparently he's just completely and entirely blind to anyone's affections as long as anyone isn't Jack Zimmermann. And now he made this difficult for both Anthony and himself.

"That's okay," Anthony says, clearing his throat. His lips quirk up in some intimation of a smile, which is, while still very pleasant to look at, much less genuine than his usual smile. "No, really, it's cool. My fault for not being clearer. We can -- I can go and order a refill for this coffee, and when I'm back we'll forget about it? We still have work left to do." He drags his legs out from beneath the table, turning sideways in his seat, before he risks another look at Bitty. "Unless you --? I mean, now that you -- realize -- would you want it to be…?"

The answer to that, Bitty thinks regretfully, is too complex for an acquaintance. Because how does one say, you're very nice and I imagine liking you could be very easy, but I've never dated in my life and right as I thought maybe I'd give it a try, I went and fell head over heels for a grumpy, kind-hearted, heterosexual Canadian?

One doesn't, Bitty reckons, but one also cannot keep waiting forever for something that will never, ever come. So he straightens his back and says, with his best Georgia smile, "Well, how about we carry on studyin’, and maybe we'll see how things go?"

It's a little more strained after that, but that's more Bitty's fault than anything. Anthony is still as perfectly polite as he was before, as focused on the reading. It's just that now every time Anthony smiles at him Bitty freezes, and then feels guilty for freezing, and gets mad at himself for not giving this a fighting chance, and by then he's not smiling back for so long that Anthony's smile shrinks, and Bitty feels even guiltier --

"Look," Anthony tells him after they packed everything back into their bags and walked companionably outside. "This hasn't been ideal, but I still had a good time. I'd like to maybe -- do it again?" Anthony smiles genuinely this time, and his smile is so pleasant, and he tilts his head the slightest bit closer to say, "As an official date this time?", and --

This is the second time Bitty freaks out about a very nice boy leaning in to possibly kiss him at Annie's, and it's exactly as mortifying as the first.

Bitty jumps back painfully obviously, as startled himself by his physical reaction as Anthony clearly is. He's blushing fiercely when he stammers, "Oh -- I -- I don't think it'll work out, I'm so -- I'm so sorry --" turns around, almost breaking into a run, and calls out, "I'll bake you a pie!"

The corners of Bitty’s eyes begin to burn, indicating the impending shameful tears. He’s terribly upset with himself for his reaction, but he’d be even more upset if he allowed himself to cry over it, so he makes the effort to blink furiously the entire way home.

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.

.

The team gathers to eat dinner together that night. Bitty’s still a little vulnerable in the aftermath of his failed study date, but he does his best to hide it, pushing himself to be cheerful and revel in quality time with his boys. It’s easier when Ransom spends most of the walk to the dining hall engaging him in a conversation about wild alien conspiracies. It’s harder when Shitty and Holster join forces to cajole him into giving deets, and don’t take his, “Oh good Lord, there’s nothing to talk about!” as an acceptable answer. Telling them the truth is not an option -- they’re his best friends, but they would absolutely, no question about it, chirp him to death, and he’s really not in the right mood to take it good-naturedly.

Bitty’s surprised when it’s Jack who eventually tells them to knock it off, shoving Holster’s shoulder to force his way into sitting between him and Bitty at the table. Holster topples sideways into Nursey, and Jack seizes the vacated space and grants Bitty a miniature triumphant smile.

Jack’s dour mood had persisted through yesterday and during their walk over, but Bitty’s been watching him gradually thaw ever since they arrived at Commons; this smile is the first true, earnest one in days, and it melts Bitty on the inside. He’s immensely relieved that at least their friendship isn’t ruined, that the past few days have only been an unfortunate bump in an otherwise smooth road. Bitty tries to cling on to that, use it to move forward from the raincloud lingering over him since his afternoon with Anthony.

A baby-faced freshman approaches their table while Chowder is telling them about a text conversation with his sister. Bitty has his phone out before anyone else even reacts -- the nervous look in the kid’s face is enough warning, and he’s not disappointed; the kid zeroes in on Jack and asks for a signature on his Samwell jersey. There is absolute silence at the table while Jack surrenders to his inescapable fate and pulls out a pen. He then ducks his head and hangs on to that pen once the kid is out of earshot and the boys begin chirping him ruthlessly, yelling loudly enough to rattle the cutlery.

Bitty’s hiccupping laughter comes as a surprise to himself, but it’s the welcome sort. He directs his smile at his phone while he tweets -- true friends don't care that you're a professional hockey player; true friends ask you to sign their mashed potatoes during dinner -- and when he raises his head Jack is peeking at his screen and grinning at him.

“Not a professional player yet, eh? You can’t go lying to the Twitter.”

Jack is so obviously pleased with himself, white teeth gleaming in his mischievous grin. Bitty's heart soars and then swiftly sinks to the bottom of his stomach. He tries to hang on to the gratitude for what he has, but something in Jack’s voice triggers the memory of it stating, obviously they can't actually run that, and then, consecutively, the memory of Anthony's dumbfounded look when Bitty fled away from him.

Not even Jack's benign chirps or his concerned glances can restore Bitty's uplifted mood after that.

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Can’t make it to Founder’s tonight. Sorry! :( :( Raincheck?

The reading room is quieter than the rest of the Haus at night. It's dark out, gray shingles lit only by the lamp inside Bitty's bedroom and the faint glow of the streetlights down the road. Bitty lets his legs dangle from the edge of the roof, cradling a can of Twisted Tea and watching his shoes swing twelve feet above the shadowy green of the lawn.

There's the sound of a creaky window sash sliding up behind him. “Hey, Bittle.”

Bitty turns around. Jack is sitting on the ledge of his windowsill, holding a folded blanket in his lap. It takes a few seconds to blink away the disorientation caused by rumination and beer. “Jack! What’re you doing?”

Jack shrugs. “You said you’re not coming with me to Founder’s, and then you didn’t answer your phone. I wanted to check in.” He holds out the blanket with a modest smile. “Here -- so you won't get cold. Spring is pretty rough on you Southerners, eh?”

Bitty snorts inelegantly at the chirp, but stretches his arm to accept the blanket. He twists back to watch the twinkling Christmas lights on the LAX frat house across the road. They never take those down, and never add any new ones during the holidays. It’s as good a reason as any to hate the lacrosse team.

Jack clears his throat, an obtrusive sound in the relative silence. “Can I -- do you want me to stay? I mean, I can leave if you need some quiet.”

Bitty looks at him from over his shoulder, chin digging into his collarbone. Jack’s face is gentler than Bitty’s seen it in a while, mellowed out by the orange tint of the streetlights, and it’s so unfair. Even when Bitty’s upset about Jack he wants Jack near him, wants to hear Jack’s opinion, wants his straightforward, pragmatic type of advice. He wonders what Jack’s face would look like if Bitty was brave enough to tell him the truth about what’s bothering him. A sardonic laugh almost escapes him at that visual.

“No, you can stay,” Bitty says instead, and then makes a herculean effort to brighten up. “As long as you promise not to prattle on, you chatterbox, you know I like silences.”

The chirp falls flat when Bitty’s cheery façade cracks. Jack swings both legs out the window and slides down to sit by Bitty while Bitty takes another swig out of the can. There’s a lot of space on the roof, two empty lawn chairs on Bitty’s end, but Jack sits right next to him. Bitty’s shoulder knocks into Jack’s bicep and Jack’s thick thigh brushes against his, but Jack doesn’t take any action to inch away.

Bitty collects his knees close to his chest, leans his chin on top of them and continues watching the span of street visible from their roof. Beneath their feet, some couple probably returning from the bars by the river stumble together on the sidewalk, the echo of their giggles drifting up to the reading room. Bitty can’t quite cover his grimace in time to hide it from Jack.

"You're upset," Jack jabs Bitty’s elbow with his own, brow furrowing.

"No!" Bitty objects quickly, hoping his voice is only a lick squeaky. He's not drunk by any means, but the Twisted Tea makes everything a bit fuzzy, softens the world at its fringes. "I'm not upset. It's -- finals are coming up in two weeks, and I've got this essay I haven’t started, and -- you know, Betsy hasn’t been well and what am I gonna do, if I can’t bake to distract myself before the tests --"

"Bittle," Jack cuts him off quietly. Bitty lifts his head off his knees just enough to enable a quick glance; Jack is looking at him, those intense eyes trained on Bitty’s face, making his cheeks flush self-consciously. Jack’s expression is his distinct blend of uncomfortable but determined. "You're upset. Are you -- is it -- your date was this afternoon…?"

Bitty’s blush deepens, and he lays his cheek down to avoid eye contact. "So?"

"So," Jack begins, clumsily, and then shifts his arm so it nudges Bitty’s, fingers curled loosely into his palm. "Did he -- I mean."

It takes Bitty a moment to decipher Jack’s faltering sentence, but -- "Gosh, no," Bitty denies with profound embarrassment once he follows Jack's train of thought. Jack, unable to shake off the role of captain, is assuming some boy hurt him. Bitty doesn’t know how to tell him that he couldn't even get through the date to get hurt how normal people do. "He was a gentleman. If anything, it was me who was on my worst behavior."

Jack doesn’t look convinced. He bumps the back of his curled fingers against Bitty’s thigh. "But you're upset."

Bitty loosens his grip on his knees, keeps the hand not holding the can busy by fiddling with the hem of Jack’s blanket. Jack is both the last and the only person he wants to talk to about this. Bitty’s original plan was to get tipsy enough to fall asleep without thinking his emotions through, and then spend the next day compartmentalizing it away -- but Jack’s presence brings everything to the forefront of his mind, plucks at the tangle in his chest until it unravels.

"Well, because --” he sighs, and the expansion of his lungs must fracture some dam, because the words begin spilling out in long strings of nonsense. “I just -- I came here from Georgia because I thought it’d be different, y’know? I couldn't fit in there, and I know -- you said yourself -- I know it’s not any different here, not really, not in hockey, but outside of hockey it’s Samwell, so at least I could be me, right? But apparently I can't even be that, because I can't manage a simple thing like a date with a cute boy," he stops to take a deep breath, buries his face in the nook between his knees. "And, goodness, I can't believe I'm -- none of this is on you, I'm sorry --"

"Bittle," Jack touches his knee, inches away from his cheek, causing Bitty to look up. Jack doesn’t move his fingers from Bitty’s bare leg after Bitty lifts his head. "Don’t be sorry. It's okay."

Bitty searches Jack’s face. He doesn’t know how to read it, what the tiny microexpressions currently mean, but Jack’s fingers are splayed in the valleys of his joints and there’s something grounding in it. He takes another big breath in an attempt to calm himself down.

"I guess," Bitty whispers, but the turmoil in his chest doesn’t settle, not after he started letting it all out. He can almost picture it surging in him, clawing its way up to his mouth. "But -- is it? Okay? I'm just." He runs a hand through his hair, frustrated with himself, both for feeling so much and for being unable to articulate feelings with the proper words. "I feel like I can't just be me. Because who I am isn't good enough at home, and isn't good enough for hockey, and who I am likes boys but apparently I'm no good at liking them right, or -- the right ones --"

He restrains himself from saying anything incriminating, biting his lip hard enough to taste the metallic flavor of blood.

"You are good enough for hockey," Jack says, stilted. His hand tightens on Bitty’s knee and belatedly pulls away. "You're a strong player, and you did a great job this season. I know we lost, but you still did good. You'll be even better next year."

Bitty exhales sharply, rubs his eyes. He knows Jack; he knows he chose to latch onto hockey because that's something he’s capable of expressing. Telling Bitty he's a good player is something Jack can find words for. Bitty didn’t expect Jack to be the right person to talk through an identity crisis, but it’d be an easier evasion to accept if he wasn’t wrong.

"Jack, no offense, but that's a load of horseshit." Jack is clearly caught off guard, seems to be gearing himself up for retaliation, but Bitty talks right over him. "It is! It is, because I might do alright now -- here -- but if I wanted to go into real hockey, into the league, you think they'd be alright with who I am? You've heard what some guys’ve got to say on the ice, and this isn’t even professional hockey."

"You want to play professionally?" The familiar glint in Jack’s eyes indicates that he’s losing track of the grand scheme of the conversation.

"No! But that's not the point!" Bitty swallows, because it isn't, but getting to the point might as well be impossible with Jack. He can't exactly tell him that he's heartbroken and disappointed in himself and everything looks more bleak from this perspective. He's no better than Jack right now; they’re both afraid to dip their toes into the murky waters of everything Bitty said that isn’t about the game. "I couldn't if I wanted to because of who I am."

"You could," Jack says, looking away, his shoulders tight. The conviction in his voice gets Bitty's attention. Jack really isn’t the most emotive of guys, and it takes a lot to get his voice to change pitch. "The league isn't a very welcoming place, but it's hockey. The whole point is hockey. And if you're good at hockey, they'll just have to accept that -- at some point. It might be hard, but if hockey is what you want, then --" he looks up, catches Bitty's eyes. Jack’s are unfocused, like somehow he forgot Bitty was even there. "I mean -- you said it isn't, but if it was -- all I'm saying is --"

"Sure," Bitty brings the can up to his mouth for another swig, skeptical even in the face of Jack’s unanticipated speech. "I get it. You can play, and all."

"Yes,” Jack insists, turning his upper body towards Bitty. Their knees press together and Jack’s face is suddenly a lot closer than it was before. Bitty has to blink a few times until he can get his pulse under control. “You can. Because you are good enough, Bittle."

They stare at each other, time stretching between them, caught up in the unforeseen gravity of the situation. Bitty can’t really wrap his head around hearing Jack defending him with such vigor, but he knows there’s nothing he can say to argue. That’s Jack’s opinion. He’s never been guilty of handing out compliments he doesn’t believe in.

"Thanks, Jack." Bitty whispers. "'m sorry. It's been a rough day. Sometimes --” He sighs again, bows his head, and musters the last shreds of his courage to be at least a little honest. “I guess sometimes it can get lonely. And it sucked to realize that it's my own fault I'm alone in the first place."

Jack subdues gradually, his shoulders folding inward and the fire in his eyes dying out, leaving room for something much more empathetic than Bitty expected.

"I'm sorry, Bittle." He reaches out to grasp the ball of Bity’s shoulder in his large palm, squeezing it tightly. It’s a friendly gesture of comfort, one the boys in the team offer each other all the time, but Jack’s thumb is absently rubbing small circles on the base of Bitty’s neck and it spreads tingles through his skin.

“It’s alright,” Bitty moves away, smiling, but the words are like dust in his mouth and it isn’t really alright at all. They settle back into sitting side by side, and Bitty notices Jack's fixed eyes on the side of his face, but he doesn’t turn to look.

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Friday evening finds Bitty scrambling to complete last-minute assignments before Spring C the next day. He shuts himself away in his room and turns off his phone, tries to make his eyes focus on long lines of text instead of on any creaking noises in the Haus that might provide a distraction. This tactic has failed him more often than not, but for once the Haus is completely empty and any creaking Bitty might hear could only be chalked up to Ransom’s ghosts. Lardo and Shitty are out buying booze for Spring C, Holster is with the frogs, Ransom is at his weekend study group, and Jack has been in Providence with his mother all day, looking at potential apartments, and will be returning later to have dinner with her and her former Department Chair.

Studying is easier when Bitty’s using it to avoid thinking about other things. Lately, since his oven has been acting up, it’s been easy using studying as a distraction from thinking about Jack -- about Jack moving to Providence, about Jack taking the first steps in his adult life away from Bitty and the team. It isn’t a better distraction than watching Say Yes To The Dress with Holster or listening to music with Lardo, but in the absence of all other options, it’s good enough to push Bitty to make his deadlines, even if it’s at the last minute.

Bitty’s laptop emits a sharp ping that alerts him to a new incoming email, and Bitty scrambles up from the floor, almost tripping over two piles of reading material on his way. His room is an absolute mess; papers covering the bedspread and the desk, textbooks spilling from inside his bag onto the floor, pens scattered haphazardly. He’s been reviewing for the HIST test while emailing back and forth with the TA for his American Publics course -- the last three lectures of which he honestly cannot remember, but is somehow expected to write two thousand words for anyway.

The new email in his inbox isn’t from his TA, however. It reads, RE: RE: Your Nomination in the 2015 Samwell Awards, and only contains one line of text, visible in the thread’s preview without Bitty clicking it open. Attached is a confirmation for the removal and termination of the aforementioned article.

Bitty pauses, his essay forgotten, and goes over the subject lines four more times.

Bitty hasn’t read the article. Bitty didn't want to read the article, had convinced himself that he was indifferent and was more interested in putting the whole ludicrous affair behind them. But now he’s incapable of dragging his cursor away from the email’s subject line. He can’t help but want to know what they have to say -- want to know why anyone would mirror his misguided feelings for a close friend.

It can lead to nothing but trouble. Bitty still opens the article file for the first time since the whole mess began on Monday, because he won't have the guts otherwise, but for some masochistic reason he just has to know.

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The Samwell Swallow

Vol. 26, Issue 31 | May 2015 | Special Edition | The Samwell Awards

CUTEST COUPLE AWARD: ICE HOCKEY AS A LOVE LANGUAGE

Our most dedicated readers will know that the title of Samwell’s Cutest Couple is highly coveted. Perhaps only second to Dream Date or Biggest Gossip in prestige, this award is one of the greatest honors young Wellie lovebirds can strive for. This year, we’re proud to elect JACK ZIMMERMANN ‘15 and ERIC BITTLE ‘17. We know: enough with the fucking hockey bros. But hear us out.

These unlikely candidates were initially nominated by Zimmermann’s fellow photography class students with an exclusive scoop. Bittle was the subject of Zimmermann’s midterm project! (Awe.) Such a grand romantic gesture could not go overlooked, and we set out to investigate. Copies of Zimmermann’s photos are brought to you here, courtesy of the Department of Visual Art.

[Images: a collage containing a dozen semi-professional photographs, all depicting BITTLE. His character is consistently linked to themes of warmth and light, and is obviously portrayed with great affection.]

We were delighted by what we learned. Observant Wellies report that the two are often seen taking long romantic walks around campus, with Zimmermann’s lens sometimes pointed at the scenery, but more often at his boyfriend. Sources at Annie’s, the local café, tell The Swallow that, “Yeah, they’ve been like, coming here at least two or three times a week this year? There’s their table [points at a secluded window table in the corner]. The tall guy always pays -- what? No, they’re almost always alone. Except this one time that they were here with this other couple? I don’t know, man, I see lots of people on dates, but these guys kinda stand out. They’re always giggling with each other, it’s ridiculous. And loud.”

Our research yielded clear results: service staff at Samwell’s Jerry’s, Superberry and Stop&Shop have gone on record with similar statements; students who shared a class with the two disclose that their constant whispering and flirting have been impossible to ignore; even the janitor at Faber Memorial Rink reports that current team captain and fellow liney spend every weekend skating alone as they watch the sun rise, while no practice is scheduled! It’s official - Bittle and Zimmermann are, indeed, 2015’s Cutest Couple.

[Image: BITTLE and ZIMMERMANN at the Samwell Men’s Hockey Team’s #Epickegster this winter. The two are standing very close in the midst of what appears to be an intimate conversation, leaning towards each other under a bag of free condoms. Text under image reads: Our staffers report that the two then disappeared upstairs while the party was still in full swing. Get it, boys!]

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Bitty spends a long, breathless moment staring at the screen with unseeing eyes.

It’s like an out of body experience. Bitty can’t feel the tips of his fingers, can’t feel his toes. He can’t lift his hand to ram the laptop lid shut so his eyes are still glued to the block of text, words blurring together into a solid sheet of gray. His mind keeps losing footing, coherent thoughts cutting off before they can run their course, parts of sentences jamming into one long sequence -- grand romantic gesture, long walks, whispering and flirting -- that plays over and over. Distantly, he’s aware that there are stray tears in the corner of his eyes, but he’s too disconnected from his limbs to do something about it.

People look, he thinks, brain stuttering over the realization, pushing itself out of its shock, people look and see -- people look at the two of us and what they see is --

A loud noise behind his back scares the living daylight out of him, enough to send him spinning on the chair. The door to his bedroom swings open, nearly banging against the wall with the strength of its motion. Behind it is Jack, standing in the doorway with his eyes blown wide and his face pale, looking like he's seen a ghost; panting for breath like he ran a marathon to get there.

Bitty nearly collapses out of his chair, stumbling over the papers on the floor to step closer, arms reaching out automatically. “Jack -- what --? Is everything alright? Aren’t you supposed to be with your mom --?”

“Bitty,” Jack breathes out, unsteady, and then tumbles further into the room. His hair is disheveled and his buttoned shirt is smeared with stains of sweat, and Bitty’s brain is still coming back online but he’s suddenly overcome with how handsome Jack still is, even like this.

And then Jack takes a lengthy step forward right into Bitty’s space, his body enveloping Bitty’s and his broad palms cupping Bitty’s burning cheeks, and tips Bitty’s mouth into his.

Bitty’s eyes remain wide open for one paralyzed split second, taking in the sight of Jack’s dark eyelashes and sculpted brow bone from extreme up close, and then Jack’s lips move and Bitty’s eyelids flutter closed, melting into the unfamiliar action.

Jack's mouth is as soft as Bitty imagined, as hot, velvety lips sliding against Bitty's and catching on the dip of his cupid’s bow. Bitty’s mind keeps up a remote chant of oh my god, Jack is kissing me, oh god, what is happening, before that too is silenced by the thrill of Jack’s mouth parting against his, deepening the kiss, and then everything goes blessedly silent.

An undetermined amount of time later, Jack’s phone begins buzzing insistently; Bitty can feel the vibrations from where his hip is aligned with Jack’s. Jack ignores it, separating their lips to angle his head in the other direction and suck Bitty’s bottom lip into his mouth, tongue wet and tentative. His phone buzzes again, though, and subsequently two times more, and then Jack finally sighs into Bitty’s mouth.

“That’s my mom,” he says quietly, breaking their mouths barely far enough apart to speak. His lower lip is shining with spit and Bitty feels faint, needs to sit down before he falls over, needs to step back before he sinks his teeth into it impulsively. “She’s waiting for me...”

“Oh,” Bitty says. His voice sounds like it’s coming from very far away. He has so many things he wants to say -- what the hell, and what does this mean, and but aren’t you, and stay, stay, don’t go -- yet the only sounds his mouth can apparently make are, “Uh. Okay.”

“We have this… dinner…” Jack continues, and his eyes are so blue and his lips are so red and his cheeks are so pink, and Bitty thinks that maybe this is a very vivid stress-induced hallucination, and also thinks that he wouldn’t mind hallucinating a little longer. “I gotta go, but I’ll -- I’ll be back.”

“Okay,” Bitty says again, even though he’s not sure it is. He’s pretty sure, actually, that once Jack exits the door of his bedroom this spell will break like at Cinderella’s midnight clock strike, and Jack will return from dinner with his mother still painfully perfect, and still painfully straight, and still so, so far out of Bitty’s reach.

Jack backs up towards the door, eyes lingering on Bitty as his hands drift down Bitty’s arms. “I’ll be back,” he repeats, although Bitty’s not any more convinced, and then he takes his hands away and fumbles blindly for the doorknob, slips out into the hallway from whence he came.

Bitty hears his breaths shallow into nothing more than gasps of air, and promptly crumples backwards onto his chair.

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.

Bitty spends the entire time Jack is absent slowly going out of his mind.

Once the shock passes and the fogginess clouding his thoughts clears, all he can do is think: think about Jack kissing him, and the lovely shape of his mouth, and the bewitched look on his face; wonder how the hell it happened, and why, and what it even means. He conjures a dozen, a hundred versions of what transpired to bring Jack to his door, and even more of what would happen if he does indeed come back.

Bitty paces back and forth across his room, unable to focus or hold onto any one scenario for more than a few seconds. His heart beats so fast for so long that it develops into nausea; he continues pacing while clutching his stomach and praying that he won’t throw up, because he doesn’t think he’d survive that kind of embarrassing memory.

Shitty and Lardo come back at some point, stoned and bearing three bags of sour worms. They squint at his messy room but don't comment on the condition of his hair or his shaky limbs, kindly offer him some sour worms and the opportunity for contact-high in Shitty’s room. They back off and close the door as soon as they see the look on his face. Bitty runs his hand through his hair one more time when he tries to imagine what his face must look like to successfully scare them away.

A long while later there are footsteps in the hallway outside his door. Bitty braces himself to tell Holster or Ransom or, god, Chowder that he’s busy right now. He tries to remind himself that he loves them even when he's in a state, and sits down on the bed to tell them that he isn’t feeling well -- except then the door opens, and it’s Jack standing in the doorway.

Bitty’s heart jumps, somersaults, and plummets all in the space of one millisecond, as he stands up abruptly from the bed and stares, openmouthed.

Jack doesn’t look as rumpled as he did earlier. His collar is adjusted neatly and the tails of his shirt are tucked and smoothed into his pants, but his face is a rich shade of pink and he’s clenching and unclenching his fists by his side. He seems so awkward, standing there, that Bitty’s continuous state of panic morphs into a different chaotic mess of confusion and affection, all while Jack does nothing but stare at him.

“How was dinner?” Bitty squeaks out, eventually, when it’s clear that Jack’s not going to speak anytime soon.

Jack looks like Bitty has veered off script unexpectedly. His eyes widen and he clenches his fists and then releases them again, compulsively. “Eh -- good, good.” Bitty nods. There’s a long stretch of silence neither of them fills. Jack inhales and says, right when Bitty is sure that his heart is sincerely going to beat out of his darn chest, “I. Bittle. About earlier.”

The color in his face deepens further but Bitty can’t tell what that means, if he’s already regretting what he’s done or if he’s just tripping over his own emotions like Bitty is. “You should -- the door,” he stutters, because whether he’s going to be kissed again or be let down gently, he’d rather do it without an audience. Jack looks at him like he spoke in a cryptic foreign language, so Bitty forces out, blushing to the roots of his hair, “Come in and shut the door, Zimmermann.”

“Oh -- shit, ouais,” Jack jostles into action, stepping away from the threshold and kicking the door shut after him. It’s the first time Bitty has seen him move with anything other than practiced poise.

Bitty’s room isn’t very large, and with the door closed the atmosphere in it quickly shifts. There’s an inherent intimacy in the short gap between their bodies that heightens in a small, enclosed space, and Bitty can feel his body heat rise and spread to his palms and his face as a result of it.

It’s unsettling, and Bitty suspects that he could grow to crave it, but not as long as he has no idea what is going on. “Jack --”

Jack interrupts him, keeping his eyes on the floor. “Wait, Bittle, listen. I -- it’s really important that you know that you shouldn't feel obligated.”

There are maybe a hundred thousand things that could’ve come out of Jack’s mouth after Bittle, listen, and Bitty spent two and a half hours imagining a good deal of them. Telling Bitty that he shouldn’t feel obligated is so perplexing that Bitty’s too wrongfooted to protest, and Jack carries on speaking. “I know as team captain I have a certain amount of authority and I didn’t even -- think about that, before, which is really wrong --”

Bitty squints, slowly gaining a renewed grasp on this bizarre situation. The only thing he manages to think with clarity, through the storm brewing in his chest, is, You doofus, what on earth are you talking about. “Jack. The season is over."

"Right," Jack shoves his hands in his pockets, squares his shoulders. "But -- still. Technically we kept up with a.m. practices even after the playoffs, so."

Because you are an insane person, Bitty thinks to himself, coming to terms with the fact that the tone of his thoughts is on a scale ranging between neurotic and cloyingly smitten. He opens his mouth, not sure what’s going to come out of it, but Jack keeps talking without pause.

"Anyway, the NCAA allows intra-team dating but doesn't say anything about involvement with captains. I checked."

This bowls Bitty over, a new wave of warmth rushing to his cheeks. "You checked?"

There's a sheen of what can only be nervous sweat above Jack's upper lip that shines under the glaring ceiling light. “It’s only thirty pages.”

Bitty feels lightheaded again, as he allows himself to consider for the first time that evening, with some measure of possibility, that Jack Zimmermann in fact came into his room and kissed the right sense out of him with the intention to date him. It’s almost too much to consider, making him weak at the knees. He grabs the edge of his desk to be on the safe side.

“You -- I -- dear god, what is even happening? What brought this on?” Because they’ve been spending -- well, they’ve spent almost every waking moment together this semester, excluding this odd week since the damned Swallow article. Jack had plenty of opportunity to confess his feelings had he possessed any, and the best time certainly wasn’t while his mother was waiting for him downstairs to go to a formal dinner.

“Well, I,” Jack stammers, dropping his chin to his chest. His ears are bright red, dark enough to be seen from a few feet away, and Bitty is enchanted by it. “I didn’t know, but. I read the stupid thing in the car because I couldn’t -- my mom said -- I kept thinking about you in every kitchen that we looked at, and I…”

Bitty can feel his eyes widen, his organs flipping over inside him. "You… did?"

Jack lifts his head, and when the two of them finally make eye contact it zings through Bitty’s body. "Yes. I mean, I guess it’s hard not to. If you're not on ice, you're baking, Bittle. Or tweeting. Or baking and tweeting."

He winces as soon the words are out of his mouth, and Bitty can’t help it: he bursts out in laughter, high-pitched and giddy. This boy, Bitty marvels, and euphoria spreads like thick cotton candy in his chest, making it hard to speak; to breathe.

Jack’s face still looks vaguely horrified, like he’s regretting ever opening his mouth. "Crisse, sorry, it's not -- I wasn't trying to --" he blows out air, starting over. "It's fine that you do. I mean, more than fine. I thought about you in the kitchens because I like it. I like you."

His voice is unmistakably uncomfortable, and beads of sweat are glinting on his temples. Bitty’s so overwhelmed by hearing Jack speak candidly about his feelings that he blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind. "You like me? But you're -- I mean, I thought you --"

Jack’s eyebrows draw down and his mouth thins. He looks irritated, but Bitty knows it’s the shape his face takes when he’s distressed. "I know last year it didn't seem like -- but I thought this year you knew things changed --"

"-- were straight," Bitty exhales, chest heaving. God. This is real. "I thought… you were straight."

Jack squints, stopping himself in the middle of his sentence. He seems honestly, genuinely confused, the big lug. With a more functioning part of his mind Bitty recognizes that this is probably the most facial expressions he’s seen Jack make since meeting him.

"But I kissed you."

"Yeah," Bitty swallows, cheeks probably glowing bright red. Somehow it’s so much more jarring hearing the words out loud than it was to have Jack’s mouth on his. Like something that’s not supposed to be discussed out in the open. A secret lifted right out of Bitty's subconscious, manifested by sheer will. "Uh. Sure did. Thus my confusion."

"Your -- confusion…?" Jack trails off. His flushed face begins shifting by degrees, a smile spreading slowly but steadily and creating the smallest, sweetest crinkle at his eyes. He wipes his shiny brow with the back of one forearm and then crosses the distance between them in a few short strides, sweeping in to kiss Bitty.

It’s not any less mind-blowing the second time around. Jack's fingers slot under Bitty's jaw, titling his head up, his other palm sliding from Bitty’s neck to his shoulder and down his back in a tantalizing stroke. Bitty grows hot all over, bending his body into Jack's to press their chests together, his hands hesitatingly finding their way to Jack's hips. He hooks them over the sharp curves of Jack's hip bones, feels the strength in Jack’s obliques through his clothes.

Their mouths create a soft slick sound when they glide against one another, lips meeting and parting smoothly. Bitty gathers the confidence to attempt parting his own lips, applies the slightest pressure of tongue to Jack's bottom lip, and is rewarded by Jack's shudder and the tightening of his hand on the small of Bitty's back.

Jack pulls his face back slowly enough for Bitty to blink his eyelashes open and catch Jack licking his lips, exhaling shakily.

"I like you, Bitty," Jack leans their foreheads together. His eyes are staring right into Bitty’s, drooping and soft and so clearly fond that Bitty feels the tremor flow in his body all the way to his toes.

"Me too," Bitty whispers. His heart is still beating irregularly, vainly trying to catch up with the emotional upheaval of the last few minutes. “Jack --. I like you, too.”

Jack smiles at him, and it’s more honest, more tender than Bitty's ever seen it. It makes Bitty so happy that he wants to burst into giggles, wants to hide his beam in Jack's chest until butterflies stop fluttering in his ribcage.

Jack runs his fingers into Bitty's hair, gently brushes through it. He's bashful, both of them avoiding prolonged eye contact, and it's so absurd that they're shy after kissing like that, but Bitty can't help it. Jack tips his head to kiss Bitty's chin, his temple, makes Bitty actually giggle when he kisses his ear and then settles his lips in Bitty's hair, tugging him closer into the crooks of Jack's body.

"Hey, Jack?" Bitty says quietly, leaning his cheek on the curve of Jack's shoulder and wrapping his arms around Jack's waist, hands linking at the arch of his spine.

"Yeah?" Jack mumbles into Bitty's hair, mouth moving against the crown of his head.

Bitty presses his lips briefly to the closest patch of Jack's skin he can reach, which is the dip in his clavicle. It's barely a kiss, but his entire body shivers with the knowledge that he’s allowed. "Wanna be my date to Spring C tomorrow?"

Jack draws back far enough to be able to look down, tilting his chin into his neck and catching Bitty's eyes with his. His face is pink and his lips are swollen and Bitty's so unbelievably in love with him, but it's the furthest thing from pathetic now. It seems funny that it was ever something shameful at all.

"It'd be my pleasure," Jack smiles, and leans in for another kiss.

[bosspigeon]

maybe they’ll leave you alone, but not me

Pairing: Gen, with Tina Poname & Male Detective Friendship Word Count: 2187 Summary: Tina Poname’s the new kid in a sleepy little town in the middle of nowhere, and is learning the hard way that making new friends in a place like Wayhaven is easier said than done. Luckily, she’s got a can-do attitude and a forceful personality to help her befriend even the surliest of loners.

I just think Tina’s such a good character, and I loved trying to write from her point of view, and I love thinking about her friendship with the Detective. Especially with my boy, Arlo. I also read a bunch of articles trying to put together his infodump on the Satanic Panic fhdasjhgjskahg. Title, of course, taken from “Teenagers” by My Chemical Romance. (I like to think I’m Funny)

Tina takes her lunch in the courtyard.

It’s overcast outside, looking like it might rain later, but the courtyard is nice enough, landscaped with flowering plants and rustic stone pathways, though it is kind of small. She’d rather sit inside, just in case it does start pouring, but every table in the cafeteria was full, and the ones that weren’t very quickly became full when she walked past with her lunch bag. She’s learned quickly that small towns like Wayhaven tend to be pretty… insular.

She’s trying not to let it get her down. She’s the new kid, and with time other students will warm up to her, but for now she feels like she’s the ugly duckling set adrift in a little pond, and all the other ducklings think she has the plague or something. The metaphor gets away from her a bit, but her head’s been a bit of a jumble since the last move. But that’s leading towards things she’d rather not think about, so she doesn’t. Simple as that.

Instead she looks around her, taking in the very pretty little courtyard, even if it’s washed in the moody tones of the grey sky overhead, made more moody still by the shade of a tall, gnarled old ash tree in the center. There are a few wooden picnic tables scattered about, all of them empty.

All of them but one.

Tina almost doesn’t see him at first. He’s hunched over at a table directly under the ash tree, his back to her. His long black hair hangs almost to the bottom of his shoulder blades in loose waves, and all she can think is that he’s never seen a boy with hair so pretty before. Every time she sees a boy with long hair, it’s always a frizzy mess, and whenever she brings up that they really shouldn’t use all-in-one shampoo, they get all annoyed with her.

She makes the decision to flounce right over, rounds the table, and wiggles into the bench across from him. “Your hair’s so pretty!” she chirps by way of greeting, unzipping her lunch bag and beaming at him. He looks up at her, and she’s a bit stricken when she sees his face properly. His dark brows are bold slashes scrunching over pale grey eyes lined in smeary black makeup that streaks down his freckled cheeks. He’s got a square jaw and a strong nose, but he still leans more into pretty territory than handsome, and she’s beginning to figure out that the uniform guidelines in the student handbook are taken as more suggestions than law, given that his lip, nose, and ears are pierced.

He doesn’t respond, squinting at her, his mouth twisting into a frown.

“I’m Tina!” she offers cheerily. “I like your makeup!”

He frowns harder, almost snarling, with a bit of teeth showing, like he’s hoping to scare her away. Well, Tina Poname isn’t so easy to scare, and she’s determined not to spend lunch alone. She just smiles right back and starts rooting through her lunch bag, pulling out the neatly packed containers of healthy fruit and veggies and hard boiled eggs to find the yogurt-covered pretzels hidden at the bottom. She crunches on one while she eyes her new tablemate, who seems to have resigned himself to her delightful company and has turned his attention back to a notebook he’s doodling in while absently eating something she thinks is a kind of pretty little spring roll. It looks really good, and she’s a bit jealous.

He staunchly ignores her eyes on him, shifting a bit and tossing the hair hanging in his face over one shoulder, so she can properly see the black enamel inverted cross dangling from his ear. Without thinking, she leans across the table and flicks it.

He flinches away from her and glowers with such ire she’s surprised her clothes aren’t smouldering. She smiles sheepishly, but brushes off the surprise and barrels on. “I can’t imagine you’re too popular wearing those in a quiet little town like this,” she chimes in a teasing sing-song. “Wonder how many old die-hard religious types burst into flames at the sight of you?”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes so hard it gives Tina a headache. But she’s also more than a little pleased she’s gotten a reaction out of him.

She leans into it, figuring she’s found her in. “So, are you a Satanist or what? It’s cool if you are! Just think it must be hell in this place.” She can’t help but cackle at her own joke, slapping the tabletop and wheezing. When she recovers enough to notice, she catches him eyeballing her like he can’t quite figure out exactly what’s wrong with her. It’s a look she knows pretty well at this point.

“I’m not an anything,” he sighs, tapping his fingers on the wooden tabletop. His nails are painted black, but they’re chipping at the tips, and he’s wearing a few really cool rings, a couple of which looks like they might be antiques. “Besides that, the whole inverted cross being a symbol of Satanism is bullshit.” His voice is pretty deep, but not nearly as deep as she expected it to be, and softer besides, with a light, lilting burr to it. Regardless, Tina’s delighted to have gotten anything more than grunts and glares from him at all. She leans forward, crunching another pretzel. “Wait, really? What’s it mean, then?”

“It’s the cross of Saint Peter,” he almost bursts out, and then pinches his lips shut, like even he’s surprised he said anything. He looks at her warily, but she just waves at him to go on. He hesitates for another moment, before he continues haltingly, “When Peter the Apostle was supposedly executed under Nero, he’s said to have requested he be crucified upside-down, because he felt he wasn’t worthy to die the way Jesus did.” His broad, tight shoulders are loosening bit by bit the more he talks. “It’s a symbol of humility. It’s even used in the design for the papal cross, because the Pope is supposed to be the successor of Peter. And because of its mistaken associations with Satanism, now people like to claim the Pope is the antichrist.”

He rolls his eyes again and picks up another spring roll, gesturing at her with it before taking a bite and continuing while he chews. “I’m not sure exactly when people decided turning the cross upside-down suddenly makes it evil, but it can probably be traced back to the whole Satanic Panic debacle that kicked up in the 70s through the 90s. Anton LaVey—fuck that guy, by the way—published The Satanic Bible in ‘69, but most of it was pretty much plagiarized from a lot of other authors who philosophized about self-actualization and whatnot, including Ayn Rand—fuck her too—and then The Exorcist movie came out, and those things combined with the whole Manson cult thing earlier in the 60s and kicked off this sort of pop culture fascination with the occult and macabre. A lot of metal bands and other counter-culture music artists started using them in album art along with other bastardized religious imagery, and it turned into a whole thing with religious pearl-clutchers.”

Tina is astounded. Not just by the subject of the conversation (which is really cool, in kind of a weird way?) but with the way the boy  turns into a completely different person in the blink of an eye. Just a few minutes ago, he was all dour and moody and mean, looking as if he was a second away from biting her head off, and in the space of a few seconds, he’s morphed into someone totally different. His eyes are brighter and more expressive, he’s talking with his hands, and even the kind of monotone voice she’d heard from him before has changed. “Wow,” she says with no small amount of awe.

He seems to regain himself when she speaks, as if he’d forgotten he was talking to another person entirely. She watches him shrink, hunching his shoulders and looking down at the table, scooping up his pen and viciously scribbling a little spiral into the top corner of his notebook.

“No, seriously!” she blurts, standing up and bracing both hands on the table so she can lean into his space. “That’s really cool! How do you know all that?”

He gives her that same wary, hunted look from earlier, and she can’t help but pout. She wants to see what she saw just a second ago, when he looked like he was excited to talk about something. “Just stuff I picked up a while ago, and thought it was cool, I guess.” He shrugs and looks away, tugging at the spiked chain around his neck partially hidden under the crooked collar of his uniform shirt. “There’s this bookstore a couple towns over that kind of specializes in this stuff.” He lifts his hands and wiggles his fingers, mouth cocking in a wry almost-smile. “Plus, there’s always the magic of the internet.”

She laughs brightly, and it takes every ounce of her meager self-restraint not to reach out and try to physically drag that other boy out of him. “Oh, that sounds fun! We should go together sometime!”

He blinks at her, like she’s hit him over the head with her lunch bag. “Wh… what?”

She leans forward harder, until she’s essentially standing on her tip-toes and bouncing. “We should hang out! I’m sure if I ask really nice, my stepmom will drive us out there. It’ll be great!”

He keeps staring at her. She bounces a bit faster, hoping he doesn’t notice the pimple she couldn’t quite cover with foundation before she had to leave this morning. And if he does, she hopes he doesn’t say anything about it, because she doesn’t think trying to fight him will ingratiate her to him overmuch.

“I’ll buy lunch and everything,” she wheedles.

“I…” He looks away, eyebrows all scrunched again, but she can see him wavering. She wants to punch the air. Never doubt Tina Poname! “I guess? But why?”

Her smile falls a little at the genuine confusion in his voice, the way he’s not looking at her anymore, even to glare, the way he’s twisting one of his rings around his finger and almost hiding behind his thick, dark hair. She tilts her head and blinks at him. “Because I think you’re cool? Besides that, this town is kinda weird about new people? And you’re the only person who didn’t put a bag or book on every available seat when I walked by.”

“Mostly because I didn’t see you coming,” he mutters under his breath, and she barks out a laugh.

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve ambushed potential friends,” she giggles. “Hasn’t failed me yet. Except when it has, but I don’t count those.”

He finally looks at her again, still kind of hidden behind a curtain of hair, but she thinks he’s actually smiling at her. He starts to open his mouth to say something, but flinches instead when the shrill ring of the bell indicating the end of lunch interrupts him. He swears under his breath and starts to gather up his things, and Tina starts shoveling pretzels into her mouth while pushing her untouched plastic containers back into her bag. She’s going to regret eating nothing but pretzels later, but at least they’re more filling than melon or carrot sticks.

“Hey wait!” she exclaims through a mouthful of pretzels as he begins to stand, almost tripping over the bench to block him in before he can leave. She’s staggered, suddenly, when he rises up to his full height and she’s looking very up at him. She’s been taller than most boys all her life, so this is a bit bizarre. He looks down at her with his brows raised, tucking his notebook into a satchel covered in patches and pins. “Wow, you’re tall,” she says astutely, swallowing her pretzels.

“Uh… yeah, I am,” he responds.

She shakes off her shock and backs up enough to let him out of his side of the table, but she blocks his path to the door still. Though she’s not sure she could stop him from going anywhere if he really wanted to get past her, with those long legs of his. “I forgot to ask! What’s your name?”

He hesitates again before he quietly says, “Arlo.”

She shoves a hand out at him, “Tina Poname, at your service!”

He grants her a shake with his big, ring-laden hand, obviously bemused, but he’s doing that maybe-smile again, so she thinks she’s done pretty well here. “Yeah. Nice to meet you.” He turns and walks a few long steps away, then pauses and turns back towards her, waiting for her scamper to his side.

“Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way,” she says a little breathlessly, swinging her bag and turning to him with a sly little smile “since you’re the local here, what teachers will let me get away with eating in class?”

[easyrevenge]

shinkami drabble

word count : 1.6k

ship: shinsou hitoshi / kaminari denki 

rated: t

summary: denki has a crush on shinsou who works across the street at the second-hand music shop.

(ive never written shinkami before & i’ve been having writers block so i wrote this based on true events for warm-up.)

Kaminari is pretty sure he might die. 

“You’re being so dramatic,” Mina tells him. And yeah, he is, but that hardly changes the fact that he’s starving. Not to death but it’s significant. He forgot to eat breakfast and wasn’t even on the schedule to work today. He’s just a good employee, and friend, or whatever. Denki thinks Mina could at least be a little more--”But, someone did leave their Café Luna bag behind about an hour ago. See what’s in it.”

Denki loves her. “Café Luna? That place is expensive!” And delicious, so he’s heard. The restaurant opened a few weeks ago down the block and since then the line has been wrapped around the corner. 

He hurries to the back of their shop and rummages through the mini-refrigerator that definitely should have been cleaned out at least three weeks ago. Past some questionable yogurt cups, he finds what he’s looking for.

Denki only spends a solid five seconds debating the morality of the situation--is it rude to eat someone’s untouched food? What if they come back for it? But it’s a short-lived consideration, especially once he sees what’s inside; a small clear container with what a fancy as fuck sandwich—“It’s been an hour, surely they would have come back by now…” he reasons. Most importantly, as well as the deciding factor, “Oh hell yes!” A huge, insanely thick double chocolate chip cookie. “Sorry not sorry, loser.” Who the hell could leave any of this behind?

The sandwich is obliterated within minutes. Then Denki, because he is a good friend and model employee, brings the cookie back out to the front and offers some to Mina. 

“You’re sweet, Denks,” she says, patting his shoulder. Then she laughs, “But it looks like you might cry if I say yes and you're forced to actually share.”

Denki really, really loves her. 

He’s half-way through the cookie, propped up on the counter and munching away while Mina does all the clean up tasks that he’s excused from today for coming in. This is their usual slow hour anyway, not a customer in sight. Easy money. 

“So, I forgot to tell you that your walking wet-dream came by earlier.” 

Denki almost chokes on his cookie. “What! When? What was he wearing?” 

Mina smiles as she wipes the counters down. “I was swamped so I didn’t get a good look. He was in and out pretty quick.”

Denki leans back against the wall, closing his eyes for a moment to revel in a quick day dream. One where he’s smooth and clever, manages to get his number, then maybe a date, a blow job, a boyfriend, a decent, regularly scheduled lay. He’d take that in any order, really. 

Denki’s never actually talked to the guy but he does know his name is Shinsou thanks to a very tactful phone call by Mina. He works at the secondhand music store across the street and one morning while opening shop they made eye contact across the asphalt. Denki had been sweeping while the other was writing a music lesson schedule on a chalkboard menu. It was anticlimactic, lasting no more than three seconds, but Denki never stops thinking about it. 

Shinsou is intimidating in the way that most pretty people are. He looks mean, disinterested. It pulls Denki in unquestionably, especially because he always smiles (full teeth) whenever he spots Shinsou through the window and rarely gets anything back except the highly coveted lifted eyebrow. Denki’s favorite thing about him is his eyes, dark and liquidy.

Denki also cares a lot about fashion and Shinsou’s clothes are the brand of cool that is obviously effortless, all black. His messy purple hair is usually pushed back with one of those cheap, zigzag plastic hair combs that were popular in the 90s.

Shinsou is aggressively hot, it’s almost offensive. Denki isn’t sure if he has a league but Shinsou is out of everyone’s.

“I can’t believe he actually came in. What did he order?”

Mina shrugs, “He just bought bottled water but he did spend a minute staring at your freaky art.”

“Oh my god,” Denki flushes pink with excitement and disbelief. He doesn’t exactly call himself an artist but he does fuck around a lot in his small studio and paint weird, neon colored, warped looking Pokémon-monster hybrids. Mina let’s him display them around her fruit shop because she’s a good friend. 

A customer comes in and Denki continues to lounge on the counter, still daydreaming of purple hues and picking at the cookie while Mina makes a smoothie that has far too many vegetables. 

“Hey Denks,” Mina says after the customer has left with their inevitable bowel movement in a cup. She sounds weird. He looks over and she’s smiling like the Cheshire Cat. He knows he’s fucked. “We’re best friends and I’m your boss, so you’re obligated to forgive me.”

Denki’s heart is squeezing tight and he stares wide eyed. “What did you do?”

Mina turns to look out through the front windows where Shinsou is currently looking left, then right, before doing a half-jog across the street. She hurriedly looks back at Denki, “I forgot to tell you the Café Luna bag was Shinsou’s and now it looks like he’s coming back for it and I’m going to go on my break now, bye.” She says the last part in one breath while the door opens and the little bell on top rings. 

Shinsou walks in and all the air is pulled from Denki’s lungs.

Denki doesn’t have time to think, just react. He practically throws himself off the counter and—again, not thinking because who has time for that when someone that good-looking is walking your way—does the only thing he can think of to dispose of the evidence. 

He shoves the rest of the cookie into his mouth. It’s a big fucking cookie, even with only half of it left. 

He never should have come into work today. 

The chime of the door tinkers again when it closes and Denki knows he has about 3.5 seconds before Shinsou reaches the front counter. He chews vigorously, practically suffocating on cookie crumbs and chocolate chips, but it’s all just turned to paste in his mouth and there’s no hope. 

Then, he starts to choke. 

“Should I call emergency services or just let you die.” It hardly sounds like a question and if it is, Shinsou is asking himself.

Denki sputters, standing up from his half-crouch in an attempt to hold on to an ounce of his dignity. But it’s all lost when they make eye contact and Denki knows there’s nothing he can do, so he just holds up a finger to say hold on before spinning around and grabbing the small trash bin under the sink. 

He spits the cookie mush into the bin, eyes watering while he coughs the dust out of his lungs, and prays that death comes swiftly in the next few seconds. 

Denki hates Mina. So, so much. 

Catching his breath, Denki leans forward over the sink and runs the water. He wonders if he should fill it up and drown himself but opts for rinsing his face instead. The eyes boring holes into his back are unrelenting and vicious. He turns around and regrets being born. 

Shinsou is way too goddamn pretty. His eyes drink Denki in, full of judgement and unabashed intensity before blinking back into nonchalance. “He lives.”

Denki can’t help it, he laughs. It’s loud and a bit wet because he hasn’t wiped off his face. What a mess. “Unfortunately.”

Shinsou doesn’t allow for any awkward silences though, just moves the conversation forward with ease. Denki barely has time to feel embarrassed but he knows he’s blushing deeper with every millisecond that ticks by. 

“I left my lunch here earlier, I think. A bag from Café Luna.” 

Denki considers lying because surely that would be the easiest route. He attempts to wipe his face off with the inner elbow of his sweater, nervous. “Oh—uh, I don’t…”

Shinsou holds up a long, slender finger.  Denki wonders what instruments he plays. Maybe he should sign up for one of his lessons, give himself a second-chance to make a good impression. Erase this one from existence. 

He shakes his head, explaining, “You have chocolate smeared on your chin.” An obvious accusation. Denki is so fucked. 

He sighs. “The cookie looked way too good, dude.” It feels good to confess, at least. “I’m sorry,” Denki apologizes, eyes downcast as he pulls at the hem of his sweater. 

“Are you,” Shinsou replies and Denki wants to run out the door but then something happens. Shinsou laughs. It’s a quiet sound, breathy and warm and deep. Denki looks up and smiles brightly because wow, that sounds like music. “I don’t think you are.”

Denki catches something like a smile on the corner of Shinsou’s mouth and it gives him some of his confidence back. Just enough. “Yeaaaah,” he breathes, grinning sheepishly. “It was really tasty so maybe not that sorry.”

“Sorry you got caught.”

“Definitely.”

“A true criminal.” Shinsou nods, something like approval. Then he pulls out his phone to check the time. Denki is already disappointed this interaction is ever going to end, despite his embarrassment. 

“I’ll have the sandwich back at least, I only have ten minutes left of my lunch break. I’m starving.”

No, yeah, Denki is going to fucking murder Mina. He’ll be an actual criminal. 

Denki knows his silence is telling but there’s no cool way to talk himself out of this. Instead he puts on his best pouty smile and apologetic eyes. Shinsou looks so unimpressed until he doesn’t, just annoyed.

He clicks his tongue, sucking air through his teeth like a disappointed parent. “I’m off in three hours.”

Denki pulls a face.  “Oh-kay.” 

Shinsou looks like he wants to roll his eyes. Denki feels hot all over, degraded even though he hasn’t been called any names or chastised. 

The silence makes Denki itchy so he breaks it with a fountain of apologies and offers to pay him back. “Do you have Venmo? Just charge me the cost! My username is 69Pika—”

“Please, stop.”

“Okay.”

Shinsou knocks his knuckles on the counter, looking him over once more before taking a few steps back. Another customer comes in and the bell tinkers twice, open, then close. 

They watch each other for a moment.

“If you’re off in time, you’re buying dinner after my shift. I’ll meet you outside the shop.” Then Shinsou turns and leaves and Denki just smiles because what the fuck else was he supposed to do. 

God, he loves Mina. 

[blueboltkatana]

I'm gonna make tmnt 2003 headcanons for the turtles because this fandom must be kept alive at all cost! Here i go beware of longpost, cuteness, angst and gay:

Part #1-> Leo:

- the day he stops making dad puns is the day Shredder resigns and becomes a farmer

- whenever he makes a really corny one Mikey just drops everything and acts like he's having a stroke

- Cannot cook to save his poor life but it will not stop him from trying, he just wants to help Mike! "Hell no out of my kitchen Donnie just fixed the microwave!"

- Loves gardening so much, he's not the best with animals but he kills it with plants. He's got a green thumb if you know what i mean...

- He can only cook well when he's drunk. How'd they find that out you ask? They all got hammered when they turned 21 and blue boy got up and cooked breakfast at 3am and it was delicious how the fuck?!

- they have pics (thanks April and Casey) of him looking extremely concentrated while cracking an egg. April framed it.

- he was a pretty picky eater as a kid but outgrew it

- doesn't partecipate in prank wars because he's too op and outpranks everyone (except master splinter) so he's been banned

- is the only one who studied japanese well and has lengthy conversations with master splinter.

- walks into Donnie's lab when it's time to eat and just looks at him, doesn't speak a word, just stares deadeye for a few seconds and then leaves. It scares Donnie shitless every time but it gets him out of the lab so...

- calls Mikey *Raph* by mistake all the time, only does this with Mikey, still can't understand why he does that

- is a clean freak and very minimalistic. Which means he avoids Mikey's and Donnie's rooms like the plague.

- watches anime with Mikey (who forced them all to watch at least one) and comments on the fight scenes all the damn time. Raph does that too, and they fight about it constantly

- his favorite thing to do is to pick up on popular trends once they've died and do them around Mikey to drive him crazy "noo someone ate my yogurt!" "Ah that's so sad Alexa play Take on me" "Leonardo i am begging you to stop"

- Donnie is skinnier than his brothers since he doesn't eat much, being in his lab working all the time and all, so Leo walks in every hour to make sure he stays hydrated and has a snack. And smacks him in the head once in a while to "get the engine working"

- Being the oldest, he used to lie to his brothers about things to make them seem cooler than they are or just to sound like he knew his shit, Donnie caught on quickly unfortunately

- he still keeps his old teddy bear to sleep with, then again that's better than Mikey's 5 feet long Sasuke body pillow

- Raph used to make a bit fun of him for not showing any interest in girls as in "are you too honorable for hormones as well?" Until they figure out he's gay and it's a very "Ooohhh" moment for the whole family

- he has trouble sleeping sometimes and when it gets bad you notice cause he knocks into things

- he does the very unhealthy thing of "instead of dealing with this i will exhaust myself then pass out" and that usually results in a braindead turtle wandering around the lair eating cereal at 6 pm and not responding to his own name until the third call then passing out on the couch

- he still keeps some of Mikey's earliest comic drawing attempts, the first thing Raph knitted him (a cute beanie) as well as this toy car Donnie fixed all on his own for his birthday, because he's a sentimental slut