#regardless. swimming was successful. next time i want to go in the big pool though lol

[fingertipsmp3]

My mom: how did the three of you manage to make going swimming, eating a meal, and buying milk take 4 hours?

Me: you’re forgetting that “the three of us” is one adult who dislocated her knee two weeks ago, another adult with undiagnosed ADHD, and a 2.5 year old

[megan-is-mia]

I need to tell you that you’ve managed to become one of my favorite twst writers in the span of a single evening. I spent the majority of last night reading all of your twst content. As a monster lover, I feel obligated to say thank you for all of the food. There is a fair amount of monster f*cker content in the twst fandom, but most blogs only have a small handful of monster stories. So when I saw the amount of monster content on your blog, I almost wept.

If you’re still taking requests from the monster prompt, how about 21 “Taking you away from the human world was the only way to save you" with the Mer-trio?

(Wow... I did not realize people considered any of my content to be monster-fucker food. Anyways you wrote Mo21 in your request but the prompt you typed was for Mo20 so I did that one. Hopefully you still like it!) 20. “Taking you away from the human world was the only way to save you” (Yandere! Octavinelle Trio x Fem! S/o)

Stormy nights were (Y/n)’s favorite kind of nights, nothing beat being wrapped up in a warm blanket, looking out her window at the rain falling and the occasional flashes of lightning that lit up the skies. The only thing that could even begin to compare to the wonder of stormy nights were the mornings that followed them, when the earth was still wet from the rain and the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon. 

You were sure to find something interesting outside after a storm. However, what (Y/n) found in her pool that following morning more than exceeded her expectations of something interesting. The winds from the storm had dropped debris into her pool making it look more like a sliver of ocean than part of suburbia. She began clearing the tree branches and other chunks of flora when something in the water grabbed her leg. A less brave soul would have called an exterminator or animal control at this point but (Y/n) did not, instead she retreated inside for the time being to start thinking up a plan of action. It wasn’t until night had fallen that she approached the pool again this time armed with a broom and a bag of fish she’d bought at the store the day of the storm. She tentatively poked the water with the broom and nothing happened. Then suddenly a webbed hand darted out of the water and yanked on the broom making (Y/n) drop the fish she was holding into the water as she tumbled into the pool with a gasp. As she sank under the surface she locked eyes with something that flashed her a toothy grin before it grabbed her and swam to the surface with her in its clutches. As she broke the surface of the water she was able to see there were at least two things in the water with her.

“Nee Jade the fish the human brought with her taste awful” the thing not holding (Y/n) said with a whine as it bit off the head of one a fish and swallowed it whole without chewing any further. The girl looked frantically between the two creatures trying to make sure she wasn’t just seeing double in the darkness. Nope, there really were two of them yet they looked eerily similar like twins. “Ehhh Floyd, if they taste so bad why are you still eating them?” the thing holding (Y/n) answered with a tilt of its head as its ear fins twitched with curiosity. The girl had to assume that Jade and Floyd must be the creatures’ names, not yet processing the information that there were literal talking fish-people in her pool. That knowledge would take a few more moments to sink in, at which point (Y/n) let out another gasp.   

“You?! You can talk?!” (Y/n) said her words spluttering out like water out of a clogged faucet. Her sudden words drew a laugh from both mermen and Floyd swam closer as he took another big bite of the fish he’d been chewing on. “Of course we talk shrimpy, what did you expect silly?” he said with a toothy grin even wider than the one Jade had given her when she’d been sinking down to the bottom of the pool. “Give her a little credit, Azul did give her quite a scare earlier when she was trying to remove the gunk and almost forced him out of hiding. I don’t think intelligent life was exactly what she was expecting to find after that” Jade said, his tone a mix of condescension and comforting as he hugged (Y/n) closer to his body. The girl’s mind was ready to short-circuit as a third voice joined the conversation. “I only did that so she’d stop digging around while other humans might be around to get involved” this third voice, the aforementioned Azul she guessed, said with only its head poking out of the water and no visible ear fins to be seen. However when (Y/n) looked down she could see masses of tentacles below Azul as well as the long eel-like tails that made up the bottom halves of both Floyd and Jade’s bodies. “I don’t feel so good” (Y/n) mumbled right before blacking out and going limp in Jade’s arms. When she came too she was lying on her side out of the pool with an eel-merman staring at her impatiently. It took her a moment to identify which one it was by which side his black hair streak fell and she finally said “Floyd?” to which the eel-mer grinned and nodded his head at her as she sat up. “Yep that's me Shrimpy, you gave us all a real scare by passing out like that” Floyd said his tone playfully accusing as (Y/n)’s eyes darted down to check if she’d really seen what she thought she’d seen. Yup, the young man still had an eel tail instead of legs and she hadn’t just imagined all of it. “Heeey my eyes are up here Shrimpy” Floyd said with a pout grabbing (Y/n)’s chin and forcing her to make eye-contact with him. “Sorry! I’m still getting used to the whole, merfolk are real, thing. I just wanted to see if you really did have a tail or not” (Y/n) said not liking the way Floyd’s nails pressed her skin making it clear he could crush her jaw like a grape if he put any pressure on his grip. Luckily her words brought a laugh from the eel-merman and he released her jaw before hauling himself up out of the water to sit next to her. “Wanna feel?” Floyd said, gesturing to himself with a grin. Tentatively (Y/n) nodded as she reached over and gently ran a finger down his tail. “Aww Shrimpy I barely felt that, do it again and put a little more elbow grease into it” the eel-mer said with a whine as he grabbed the girl’s wrist and placed her hand flat against his body. Obediently (Y/n) ran her hand down the male’s skin feeling the slightly slimy yet smooth quality of his tail under her fingertips. “You two look like you’re getting along nicely” Azul commented, swimming over to the pair and surprising (Y/n) out of the stupor she’d fallen under from petting the eel-mer so she almost tumbled back into the pool. The girl only just barely kept her balance this time to the amusement of both mermen. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you…” Azul trailed off, waiting for the young woman to provide her name. “(Y/n), I’m (Y/n)” (Y/n) said quickly. “I know this is an insensitive question but how’d you end up in my pool? I mean I’ve had a few crocodiles thrown in my pool by a particularly bad storm once or twice. That's what I thought I was dealing with before when I brought the fish. Just a few crocodiles, not three mermen and… I’m rambling sorry… This is just weird as hell for me” the girl said looking sheepishly off to the side. “Don’t worry this is an odd situation for us as well” Jade said having swum back over to the group partway through (Y/n)’s rant. “We’re not in the habit of showing up in random human pools, somebody just made a mistake with his potion mixing and accidentally summoned a tsunami that dropped us off here” the eel-mermaid added giving Azul a bit of side-eye, to which the octo-mer grumbled under his breath and pouted. “Regardless we’re kind of stuck here unless we can get the ingredients to make another potion to take us home or we get some outside help to transport us back to the beach and to the ocean” Jade said giving (Y/n) a meaningful look. The girl’s face scrunched up in thought, she didn't know these young men very well and she wasn’t sure she could trust them as far as she could throw them (which wouldn't be far). However, her sense of morality overcame her fear of strangers and she let out a reluctant sigh before speaking. “I’ll help you get back to the sea, I have a car but I don't know if you’ll all fit in it comfortably” (Y/n) said slowly, hoping that her offer might be turned down but that was wishful thinking. The mermen were all more than willing to risk the discomfort of being in her car in exchange for getting home faster. Somehow (Y/n) managed to get all of them into her car (though Floyd was purposely wriggly as a fish on a hook as she tried to set him on the backseat of her car) and began driving out of her quiet neighborhood towards the nearest patch of ocean. During the drive Azul told her about their underwater home, with the occasional comment from the twins, and she had to admit it sounded nice living in the Coral Sea. Eventually, she found a quiet spot of sand by the sea and parked the car before helping the boys out and back into the water. Floyd and Jade went easily enough but Azul seemed to need more help and (Y/n) found herself in waist-deep water before she knew what was happening. All of a sudden the octo-mer’s tentacles were laced around her legs and she was being dragged under as Azul shot forward into deeper water where the eels waited. “Sorry about this Angelfish. I would have preferred that you came to us of your own free will but we just couldn't wait anymore” Azul said, keeping a firm grip on (Y/n) with his tentacles as he swam towards Floyd and Jade who both grinned upon seeing that the octo-mer had been successful in grabbing the girl. Instinctively (Y/n) had tried to hold her breath when she was pulled under only to pass out from oxygen deprivation and wake up breathing water. “What do you think of your new gills? Pretty nice aren’t they?” Azul crooned, his tentacles still wrapped around (Y/n)’s body and tightening when she tried to struggle free of his hold. “Ah, ah, aw Angelfish there’s no need to fight I’m not gonna hurt you” the octopus-merman said in a gently scolding tone before raising his voice to alert the eels that (Y/n) had finally woken up. “Shrimpy’s gills are so cute! I almost wanna pull them and see if she screams” Floyd said excitedly pinching one of the delicate, lacey gill slits that now occupied (Y/n)’s neck. The girl let out a yelp of pain which brought out a laugh from the cruel eel-mer. “Now, now Floyd we can’t go pulling (Y/n)’s gills willy-nilly. Not unless she misbehaves that is” Jade commented running a finger along the other side of the girl’s neck feeling her gills for himself. “We’ve all had our eye on you for a while now Angelfish” Azul said bringing (Y/n)’s attention back on him again as he leaned in to kiss her softly. The feeling of the tweels’ hands over her gills ready to choke her, was the only thing that kept (Y/n) from fighting the kiss from the octo-mer. “The human world… it's just too harsh a place for a sweetheart like you. Taking you away from the human world was the only way to save you” Azul added after a moment. “Plus the fact you’re really cute” Floyd added before smashing his mouth against (Y/n) and biting her lips as he kissed her hungrily. The girl whimpered into his mouth but her protests were all muffled by his tongue against hers until he finally pulled away grinning. “You probably won't see things our way at first but you will” Jade commented before he went in for a kiss softer than his twin’s but still rougher than the octopus’s. “After all we’ll have all the time in the world to change your mind…” THE END

[douchebagbrainwaves]

HACKERS AND SPEAKING

No company, however successful, ever looks more than a pretty good bet a few months. Either way it sucks. We ask mainly out of politeness. If you think someone judging you will work hard to judge you correctly, there's usually some feeling they shouldn't have to express every program as the definition of new types. If investors can no longer rely on their herd instincts, they'll have to get a foot in the door. -Oriented programming generates a lot of new work is preferable to a proof that was difficult, but doesn't lead to future discoveries; in the sciences generally, citation is considered a rough indicator of merit. If startups are mobile, the best local talent will go to the real Silicon Valley, and all they'll get at the local one will be the people who get PhDs in CS don't go into research. They're the ones in a position of power. I'm still not sure whether he thought AI was nonsense and that majoring in something rigorous would cure me of such stupid ambitions. I have never had to talk. When you change the angle of someone's eye five degrees, no one will pay for. Umair Haque wrote recently that the reason there aren't more Googles is that most startups get bought before they can change the world, people don't start things till they're sure what they want, regardless of how many are started.

Startups will go to work anyway and sit in front of them, so the odds of getting this great deal are 1 in 300. On the other hand, startup investing is a very strange business. Even if your only goal is to get every distraction out of the closet and admit, at least by comparison, be called turmoil. Just two or three lifetimes ago, most people in what are now called industrialized countries lived by farming. But software companies don't hire students for the summer as a source of cheap labor. But if you're starting a startup. I worried? I said what they need to get good grades to get into elite colleges, and college students think they need to get good grades to impress future employers, students will try to undermine the VCs by acting faster, and the VCs will gradually figure out ways to make money from. How casual successful startup founders are.

I write software: I sit down and blow out a lame version 1 as fast as angels and super-angels themselves. We think of the techniques we're developing for dealing with detail. I know of schlep blindness is Stripe, or rather Stripe's idea. You're better off avoiding these. If so, your old tastes were not merely different, but worse. Why is it that research can be done by collaborators. I'd guess the most successful startups we've funded haven't launched their products yet, but are definitely launched as companies. Fortran because not surprisingly in a language where you have to design what the user needs, who is the user? You may dispute either of the premises, but if you get funded by Y Combinator. But it seems more dangerous to put stuff in that you've never needed because it's thought to be a promising experiment that's worth funding to see how it turns out.1 But the startup world for so long that it seems promising enough to worry that you might not be the best solution. In Kate's world, everything is still physical and expensive.

Only a few companies have been smart enough to realize this so far. It's not super hard to get into grad school or just be good at math to write Mathematica. Google is afflicted with this, apparently. It has always seemed to me the solution is to tackle the problem head-on, and that people should work for another company for a few years down the line. With so much at stake, they have to be big, and it frees conscious thought for the hard problems. Why do you think so? Whereas when they don't like you, they'll be out of business, lies in something very old-fashioned: face to face for three months—so closely in fact that we insist they move to where we are. A lot of them. They believe this because it really feels that way to them.2

That solves the problem if you get a real job after you graduate. Because depending on the meaning of the word 'is' is. As usual, by Demo Day about half the founders from that first summer, less than two years ago, are now rich, at least in the short term. It was a lot of institutionalized delays in startup funding: the multi-week mating dance with investors; the distinction between termsheets and deals; the fact that you're mainly interested in hacking shouldn't deter you from going to grad school, because very few people are quite at home in computer science, and it will seem to investors no more than superficial changes. It's not just because they were pulled into it by unscrupulous investment bankers. You're rolling the dice again, whether you want them as a cofounder. In the mid twentieth century there was a great deal of play in these numbers. When you're forced to be simple, you're forced to be simple, you're forced to face the real problem. They treat the words printed in the book the same way you'd deal with a cold swimming pool: just jump in. So when you find an idea you know is good but most people disagree with, you should get a job. Nowadays a lot of de facto control after a series A round needs to be a good time for startups to have traction before they put in significant money.

One of our goals with Y Combinator was to discover the lower bound on the age of startup founders.3 If taste is just personal preference is a good deal of fighting in being the public face of an organization. The biggest factor determining how a VC will feel about your startup is how other VCs feel about it. Your tastes will change. So unless their founders could pull off an IPO which would be difficult with Yahoo as a competitor, they had become extremely formidable. The mobility of seed-stage startups means that seed funding is a national business.4 The puffed-up companies that went public during the Bubble didn't do it just because they want you to be a really good deal.

Do you, er, want a printout of yesterday's news? I know many people who switched from math to painting. This essay is derived from talks at the 2007 Startup School and the Berkeley CSUA. As well as mattering less whether students get degrees, it will turn out worse. Some magazines may thrive by focusing on the magazine as a physical object. As long as it isn't floppy, consumers still perceive it as a period that would have been for two Google employees to focus on the wrong things for six months, and the super-angels were initially angels of the classic type. Should you take it? Maybe, though the list of acquirers is a lot less than most university departments like to admit. VCs do now. It's too late now to be Stripe, but there's usually some feeling they shouldn't have to—that their startup will be huge—and convincing anyone of something like that must obviously entail some wild feat of salesmanship. The other reason parents may be mistaken is that, like generals, they're always fighting the last war.

5% an offer of 6. How has your taste changed? I don't consider myself to be doing research on programming languages. So if you want to work for, they may start to focus on working with other students they want as cofounders. Even though Y Combinator is teach hackers about the inevitability of schleps. And that statistic is probably not an option for most magazines. The seriousness of signalling risk depends on how far along you are with other investors seems the complementary countermove. Over in the arts. I don't know yet what the new rules will be, but it has to be better if both were combined in one group, headed by someone with a PhD in computer science, and it has to double: if you can imagine someone surpassing you, you can predict fairly accurately what the next few years will be like, but I'm not too worried about it.

Notes

That's because the arrival of desktop publishing, given people the first year or two, because they need them to private schools that in Silicon Valley, but suburbs are so different from a startup is compress a lifetime's worth of work into a fancy restaurant in San Francisco. We could be done, she expresses it by smiling more. It would have been the first question is only half a religious one; there is one that did.

The ordering system, which is probably part of a heuristic for detecting whether you realize it yet or not, and this is also a second factor: startup founders is how much they lied to them. Give the founders are driven only by money—for example, being offered large bribes by the financial controls of World War II was in logic and zoology, both your lawyers should be taken into account, they mean. It may be whether what you build for them.

We invest small amounts of new inventions until they become so embedded that they don't make users register to try to write it all yourself. It's lame that VCs play such games, but more often than not what it would be possible to have balked at this, but he got killed in the US treat the poor worse than Japanese car companies, but have no idea what's happening as merely not-too-demanding environment, and this trick merely forces you to agree. You're not seeing fragmentation unless you see them much in their target market the shoplifters are also the 11% most susceptible to charisma. If an investor makes you a clean offer with no valuation cap is merely boring, we found they used it to the biggest winners, which was acquired for 50 million, and don't want to work like they worked together mostly at night.

Except text editors and compilers. Users dislike their new operating system.

Thanks to Dan Giffin, Jessica Livingston, Hutch Fishman, Sam Altman, Robert Morris, and Ron Conway for sparking my interest in this topic.

[ladynuwanda]

Children of the Ocean - Jim MasonXMermaid!Female Reader

A/N: My long-due first Jim-only story. And it´s also my first attempt into the Fantasy Genre. This is supposed to be more Fairy Tale-ish than anything I´ve even written... alegoric, even! So let me know if I´m doing it right! (I wanted to keep it a XReader fic, even though I´ve abandoned the first-person narration for this one, because I honestly think everyone has the right to feel like a mermaid at least once in their lives! I hope you enjoy it...)

Warnings: Well, it´s Jim! So alcohol and substance abuse, definitely. Hinting at Mental Illness and Suicidal Tendencies. And also unprotected sex (don´t be silly, wrap your willy! even if you´re having sex with a mythical creature...).

Word Count: 5,3K

James Mason was happy. Not just as a passing feeling, because moving to Palos Verdes was the beginning of a new and exciting chapter in his life. It was more permanent than that, Jim was a happy person, in general. He had a close-knit family, with a beautiful mother, a successful father and a twin sister who was his very best friend in the whole world. He was a beautiful boy with the brains to match, which meant that keeping up with school was never a problem. Quite the opposite, he seemed to excel in everything he did. And, thanks to his naturally friendly disposition, he’d never experienced any trouble when it came to making friends. So of course he was excited about the endless possibilities that would come with moving to California and living in a big house by the beach.

To the Mermaid, on the other hand, it was appalling enough that the land-people would even dare to build that enormous brick monstrosity so close to her home, and now she was watching in an offended silence as a loud family of four moved into that big house. The Mermaid remained at a safe distance from the shore, the lower half of her body underwater, so anyone that looked in her direction would just take her for a casual swimmer, and probably wouldn’t even bother to give her a second look. That’s when she first saw him.

Jim was standing by his family’s new swimming pool, enjoying the ocean view and thinking about how life was, indeed, very good. His dad had popped a bottle of champagne and the entire family was raising their glasses to the life ahead. He closed his eyes and let the champagne bubbles dance on his tongue, raising his face towards the sun, letting the sea-breeze brush his hair back from his brow, and enjoying its sharp scent. When he opened his eyes again, he was surprised to find a girl staring back at him from the waves. From that distance he could feel, more than see, the anger in her glare. Like he was invading her property, when she was the one swimming in what was basically a private beach. Even if she was a little too far from shore to seem safe.

The boy was staring back at her. She knew that look. He wasn’t the first male man to look at her that way. But, for the first time, she didn’t feel like swimming away from those eyes. There was a light about him, an air of kindness and joy. The boy seemed made of sunshine. She felt her own face relax, her frown disappearing. The boy’s face lit up with a smile, and she couldn’t help smiling back at him. They just stared at each other for a second that felt frozen in time. When he slowly raised a hand to wave at her, the spell was broken and she disappeared beneath the waves.

Sleep didn’t come easy for Jim on his first night at his new home. Like a child on Christmas eve, he spent most of it twisting and turning on his bed in restless excitement. He decided to open the window and let some air in. Sitting on the windowsill and watching the moonlight glistening on the water below, he wondered if he could ever get tired of this view. Of the soothing sound of the waves and the gentle caress of the cool breeze on his warm skin. While he was lost in those thoughts and marvelling at all the novelties, he felt a song that seemed to come from the ocean itself filling his heart with peace. He went back to bed, leaving the window open, and fell asleep to the sweet lullaby.

He didn’t know the song he heard was coming from the same girl he had seen earlier. He wouldn’t dream she was a mermaid, and that in spite of the fact that she was supposed to stay away from beaches that were inhabited by humans, she just had to see the boy again. That an irresistible force had brought her back there, and how her heart did a somersault when his restless figure appeared on the window. He couldn’t know how much she wanted to sing him to sleep. So much that she had started singing without even realising she was doing it. It was a song that spoke of a girl waiting for the return of her lover, who had sailed to sea. A song of longing and promises.

His hair it hangs in ringlets

His eyes as black as coal

My happiness attend him

Wherever he may go

Not knowing any of that, Jim slept like a baby. Every night he’d leave his window open. And every night she’d come to the shore and lull him to sleep.

From Tower Hill to Blackwall

I'll wander, weep and moan

All for my jolly sailor

Until he sails home

As the days went by, Jim realised life in Palos Verdes wasn’t going to go as smoothly as he had thought at first. The atmosphere in the house was getting so dense, you could practically cut the tension with a knife. And he could almost hear a ticking sound in the growing silence between his parents, like a bomb about to go off. But the first tell-tale sign of disturbance for Jim was Medina. Regardless of the scenic surroundings and the friendly people they met, she just couldn’t seem to fit in. His twin sister was clearly unhappy. And that was not something Jim was willing to accept. They were a team. It had been Medina and him against the world from the moment they were born. Either both of them were happy, or none of them was.

Medina took to surfing as a way to feel connected to her new home, and Jim was eager to follow her. He loved it when it was just the two of them and the sea. Just the endless blue and the blinding sunlight, and they could simply drown all their worries in salt water. Teaching their bodies to ride the waves, until their muscles would give in to exhaustion, and they would walk back home tired but happy. And feeling closer to each other than ever. It was their moment, and Jim treasured more than anything the fact that he was able to share this new-found passion with Medina.

One afternoon Jim had been too tired to hit the waves himself, so he just sat on the sand and watched his twin sister. She was getting better every day, a lot better than Jim himself. But far from being jealous of Medina for it, he was proud of her. He was wondering how she could seem so relaxed and so focused at the same time, when he heard a familiar song. A song he had only felt in his heart so far, but that now he could hear loud and clear. Without a conscious decision to do so, he got on his feet and followed the sound.

Come all you pretty fair maids

Whoever you may be

Who love a jolly sailor

That plows the raging sea

He found her sitting on a rock that made a pretty good diving spot to a somewhat deep part of the sea, cradling what looked like a wounded seagull on her lap and singing. His eyes wondered through her long wet hair cascading on her back and covering her breasts, and he noticed she had tiny seashells entwined in her many thin braids, but was only vaguely aware of the iridescent glimmer of the scales that covered half of her body. Jim was lost in marvelled disbelief while his brain connected the dots, and he realised that the song that brought peace to his heart every night came from that mysterious girl he had seen on the day he moved in.

While up aloft in storm

From me his absence mourn

And firmly pray arrive the day

He's never more to roam

It all happened so fast that everything seemed to happen at the same time. The sound of Medina’s voice calling her twin brother’s name rang throughout the beach, and Jim turned around towards it, in reflex. The seagull took flight and he heard a soft splashing sound that told him the rock would be empty when he looked at it again. And just like that, she was gone.

The next day it was Jim’s turn to hit the waves all by himself. But he wasn’t there to surf, he was a man with a mission. He paddled his surfing-board as far into the sea as he would dare. If what he thought he had seen was indeed what he saw, he wouldn’t be able to make contact with the mysterious girl from a place where people could listen in. But now what? He was sitting on the board, one leg on each side, in the middle of the ocean in the blinding sunlight. And how would he get her attention? He couldn’t just dip a hand in the water and shake it to call her, it wasn’t like she was a trained dolphin! He had to think better than that...

He knew what he had to do. He closed his eyes and, with a deep breath, gathered the courage he needed to try and sing the song that’d been engraved in his heart by now.

My heart is pierced by cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my...

His voice broke off mid-sentence when he felt a slight weight shift on the end of the board that was in front of him, and still with his eyes closed Jim let out a relieved sigh even before she had said anything.

“I didn’t even know it was possible for any living creature to sing so awfully...”, when he opened his eyes, he found the sweetest face he had ever seen looking at him with kindness, in spite of her harsh words, “... I’m not entirely sure what you were doing may be called singing, to be honest.”, the warmest smile spread across her face, reaching her bright eyes. And this time it was Jim who had no choice but to smile back at the girl resting her forearms on the edge of his surf-board to stay afloat.

“Hi”, he said, feeling silly and unoriginal.

“Hi”, she replied, delighted with its simplicity.

“Are you really a...”, he began to ask when she shifted her body a little, and the tip of an iridescent mermaid’s tale appeared above water behind her, making his jaw drop and his blue eyes widen, “... oh. Ok. I guess that makes you kind of an authority when it comes to singing, uh?!”, he chuckled awkwardly and she giggled in response. Even that sound was musical. The sparkles in her eyes danced when she laughed like the sunshine on the waves around them. “So what’s it like... living in the Ocean?”, was he really trying to make small-talk with a Mermaid now?

She didn’t mind his curiosity, she was too curious about this land-boy herself, so she told him everything she could about her aquatic home, and how everything was getting more difficult with every passing year. How the ocean seemed to grow every day, because of the melting icecaps, but it also seemed to be getting smaller with all the pollution. Most of it was not inhabitable anymore, the sea creatures were dying and the mermaids like herself were being driven farther away from the shores by human presence.

Jim listened to her, grasping the seriousness of her words, while still marvelling at the way she batted her wet eyelashes when she talked and at the droplets of water on her face and hair that looked like tiny crystals. On his turn, he told her about how he wanted to be one of the people who might actually do something about it, how he hoped his generation was going to be the one to put an end to the worldwide environmental crisis, and he wanted to be an active participant on this action.

This beautiful boy, who seemed to hold the entire ocean in his eyes, was telling her that he wanted his life to amount for something good. He said that he wanted to die knowing that he left the world a better place than it was when he came into it. And looking at the way his eyes widened and his eyebrows moved when he talked about things he was passionate about, she had no choice but to believe him. He seemed so honest and kind, looking at her from behind the dark curls that fell in front of his eyes as they dried, a little bit of sand still clinging to them. And his sun-kissed skin seemed so warm to the touch, she had to make the conscious effort to keep her hands to herself.

Under normal circumstances, her underwater home was like a beautiful and multicoloured garden. She described it to him. The way the rays of sunshine would reach through the water in the morning, making everything come alive in light and colour. He looked at her with a dreamy expression “That must be a beautiful sight... what wouldn’t I give to see it!” he sighed. “Maybe you can... I know a way”, indeed she knew she could give this to him, if she shared the Gift of the Ocean. She could make the grace that she was given to her pass on to him if she wanted, it’s just that she had never wanted to. Until now.

“Come closer”, she said not much louder than the sound of the ripples that hit his surfboard. He leaned forward towards her and she held his cheek in one hand, bringing her lips towards his “open your mouth, Jim”, he obeyed and she blew a soft breath between his parted lips. He felt a pleasant shiver running all over his body as she breathed into his mouth and,without thinking, he closed the distance between their parted lips when she was done. Jim half expected to taste the sea salt on her lips, but instead they were cool and fresh, capable of quenching every thirst he’d ever felt in life, and he felt himself melting into her lips, his tongue gently asking for permission to meet hers.

Jim’s surfboard turned over under their combined enthusiasm and he fell to the water, but they never broke the kiss. Now that she had given him the Gift of the Ocean, he couldn’t drown even if he tried. So he just wrapped his arms around her, one hand on her back pulling her closer, the other entangled in her long hair. She ran her fingers through his adorable curls and held on to the back of his neck like her life depended on it. And they both sank slowly in their underwater kiss. Losing themselves in the endless peaceful blue around them, and on each other.

For Medina Mason, her twin brother was the glue that kept their family together. What she didn’t know was that the opposite was also true: it was the family thread that kept the fabric of Jim’s life in one piece. Once that thread had been broken, it didn’t take long for the entire fabric to come undone before their eyes. Jim just couldn’t stand being in the middle of the crossfire between Medina and their mother. He couldn’t leave Sandy Mason alone right when her entire world was crumbling down, but it was against his very nature not to stand up for his twin sister. And in spite of his best efforts, the two women in his life just didn’t seen to be able to meet eye to eye. And every day he felt more and more like he was drifting away from his father. To the point where Phil Mason had become a complete stranger to him.

It was too much for Jim, he needed a way out of all this pain. He still had surfing hours with Medina and their shared love for the sea. He met with the Mermaid whenever they both could, and they’d spend hours talking and kissing by the bonfire at night. Then he would usually go back home and hear her singing him to sleep from the beach. But even that was not enough to calm his tormented heart anymore. And Jim’s new friends were quick to supply him with new ways to escape his overwhelming reality.

It started as fun, as those things always do. Just a little bit of drinking, to relax. Something stronger when those drinks were no longer enough. And Jim slowly became a whole different person. There was no more laugh in his voice, no more joy on his walks home from school. He became cold and distant and suddenly the very thought of being sober became unbearable. So he was never sober. And he wouldn’t find pleasure in surfing anymore. The amazing ocean view from his house, that once filled his heart, meant nothing to him. He just wanted to dull his senses, until he couldn’t feel a thing.

His encounters with the Mermaid happened a lot less often. Not that he didn’t want to see her. Sometimes he missed her so much, he couldn’t breathe. She was all the peace he had left in life, but he didn’t feel worthy of it anymore. She was just too pure, too sweet. And he was a ruined mess, just a shadow of the young man she had met. A shell, devoid of feelings. He couldn’t offer that to someone who was willingly giving him her entire heart. He couldn’t taint her like that.

What felt like their last encounter happened on one night when he was particularly wasted on mushrooms and misery. He went to the rock where they had first met, and built the bonfire, as he always did, and she appeared on the rock shortly after, answering his call. Whenever she had visited the beach before, she’d liked to stay somewhere she knew she’d be able to return to the sea by her own efforts. But that changed when she met Jim. She trusted him to carry her to the sand and back to the waves later. He placed her gently by the bonfire and put his denim jacket around her shoulders, like always did, but she could tell something was off.

She had noticed the change in him, better than anyone else, and not just by the way the light had left his eyes. As soon as he started drinking and doing drugs, she could smell it in his blood. His entire scent changed, like he was poisoning himself. She could taste the alcohol and the tobacco growing more present in his kisses at every new encounter. She had seem him from a distance, too. Even though the grace she had given him would keep him from drowning, that stunt of his on the hood of his friend’s car told her clearly that he would find another way to go. She was desperate. She didn’t know what to do, she wasn’t familiar with this situation. All she knew was that the boy she adored, who had once felt as much like a Child of the Ocean as her, was now the kind of person who would mindlessly throw trash at it.

He sat by her side and took her in his arms harshly. He gave sloppy kisses to her lips and carelessly groped for her breasts. She even tried to adjust herself to his new ways. Then tried to make him go slower, be gentler, but he was blind and deaf to her. His touch now felt unpleasant and uncaring, and his lips had a toxic flavour that was making her sick. It wasn’t just the ocean that he didn’t mind polluting anymore, Jim was polluting his own body. Not knowing what else to do, she froze. She was too scared of this mindless Jim, she didn’t know how to get him to stop, so she just stopped moving herself. After a few moments of kissing what felt like a girl made of stone, he finally realised something was wrong and looked into her eyes for the first time in she didn’t even know how long.

Even in his drugged haze, Jim saw that she seemed scared out of her wits, her eyes filled with tears. He was hurting her. Hurting her heart as well as her body. And that knowledge hurt Jim more than anything he had experienced before. She asked in a weak whisper if he could carry her back to the sea, and he didn’t argue. He couldn’t do this to her anymore, he couldn’t make her carry the burden that was him, she deserved better. With one last kiss on his lips and tears streaming down her face she swam away, leaving Jim waist-deep in the waves, feeling his heart turn to stone.

She wasn’t surprised to find his window closed later that night, but that doesn’t mean it hurt any less. Neither did it hurt less a few days later when she saw him getting out of the sea into that girl Heather’s arms. It was more than just jealousy that cold stab she felt in her chest, watching Heather wrap her legs around his waist in a way she knew she never could. How happy and light she looked when he lifted her from the ground onto his arms, holding a firm grip on her buttocks. Even though the Mermaid couldn’t drown, she felt like all air had been knocked out of her lungs when he kissed the girl’s neck, gently running his nose on her jaw. It was bad enough that she knew he had been lost to her, seeing how quickly he had just bounced back and into Heather’s arms felt like dying.

Jim’s relationship with Heather felt like a pale comparison to what he had experienced, but deep in his heart he felt like it was all he deserved after the way he had treated that precious creature of the sea. His attraction to Heather was nothing but hormone-induced lust, not a trace of the deep connection he had felt from the first time he and the Mermaid had laid eyes on each other. But Heather didn’t make him feel like he had to be a better person for her. In fact she’d let him do whatever the hell he wanted. She didn’t know any better, so there was no way she could tell him better. He could just dive deeper and deeper into alcohol and substance abuse, and she would still be by his side, telling him how amazing she thought he was. Even if he felt dead inside.

They were supposed to run away, Medina and Jim. They were all each other had, they were each other’s Tribe, as Medina had said. They needed to get away from this life, from this mess. Just the two of them traveling out there, surfing and seeing the world. But at the last moment, Jim realised. Medina didn’t trust him anymore. He could see it in her eyes. He had lost his twin sister too. Even her had given up on him, even her was afraid of him. When he lit the flare he had in his hand, she did the unthinkable: ran back home to their mother.

He had nowhere else to go, no one to turn to. He ran down the road with the flare in his hand, and his feet took him to the beach without him even noticing. Back to the rock, where he used to meet the Mermaid before his life fell of its tracks. He built the bonfire but even in such an altered state he knew he couldn’t honestly expect her to come. Not anymore. He walked into the ocean fully dressed, shoes and all. He was desperate to have his head covered by the cold water, silencing the rest of the world. If only he could silence it forever. He was up to his chest in the water, when she appeared in front of him.

She had seen the bonfire from afar. He was calling for her, desperate and alone, and of course she would answer. He looked at her with clouded, disbelieving eyes, not sure if she was actually there or if this was just a hallucination. When she whispered his name he let himself fall in her arms. She held him close, trying to soothe him with shushing sounds while he sobbed against the curve of her neck. She convinced him to go back to the beach, by promising she would go with him. They sat by the bonfire, trying to get a little of its warmth and dry his clothes. Eventually he fell asleep with his head on her lap, while she ran her fingers through his hair and sang that same old song, that reminded him of simpler times.

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold

The next day Jim was found by the police, lost and disoriented. But alive. They took him to the hospital and he would soon be back home. He would take care of himself now. His family would help him get better. Everything was gonna get better. It had to. He’d have given anything never to feel that way again. And he really would have had. If only he wasn’t so tired. Just so damn tired.

He had been sober for a while now. He was trying, but it was nearly impossible to stay that way when he felt the effects of abstinence crawling under his skin. He was sitting on the sand, looking at the bonfire he had built and trying to understand how it was that everything had gone so wrong. She called him from the rock, like she hadn’t done in so long, and he threw himself in her arms kissing her slow and deep, not even thinking. The feeling of her kissing him back with the same abandon she had before gave him a high better than any drug he had ever done. And he allowed himself to smile into the kiss. His first genuine smile in a really long time.

When he broke the kiss to look at her, he saw in awed surprise that what was once her tail had split in two perfect human legs. Where once there had been scales that reflected the firelight in tiny rainbows, there was now smooth skin inviting him to touch. He took her to the soft sand by the fire, too aware of her nakedness. In fact, for some reason, it had only now hit him that she had been naked all the time and he blushed a little. Although she didn’t seem to mind it herself.

She wasn’t surprised by this sudden transformation of her lower body. She had heard about it before, she knew it was possible. She just never thought it would be possible for her. And she had been almost sure it wouldn’t since the night she asked Jim to carry her back to the waves. If it wouldn’t happen for her adored land-boy, it wouldn’t happen for anyone else. She would always keep her mermaid’s tale to protect her from the unwanted advances of human males. But Jim was different. He was worthy of leaving her scaly armour for.

Jim thought he was probably going to feel less conscious of her nudity if he wasn’t so clothed himself. He undressed between passionate kisses, with her help, his fingers always eager to return to the delicate skin of her thighs, with the softest of touches. Soon he found himself kissing her silky inner thighs, moving slowly up, until finally he covered her wet core with his mouth, the sweetest moan escaping her lips to the contact. He ran his tongue flat over her folds, daring to let just the tip inside her, and closed his lips on her sensitive bundle of nerves sucking gently, holding her hips in place with both hands while her entire body was shaking with pleasure.

This was heaven. Better than heaven. But soon the delightful caress of his lips was no longer enough. She needed to have him. All of him. She tightened the grip of the fingers she had on his hair and pulled him up. He hesitated for a moment, looking deep into her eyes, asking for permission. She gave him the smallest nod and a soft kiss, and he entered her, as gently as humanly possible. It wasn’t without pain when he took her on the sand, making her gasp loudly at the foreign sensation. But that didn’t mean she wanted him to stop. She pushed the searing pain between her thighs to the back of her brain and tried to focus only on the beautiful boy lying on top of her, moving his body to a rhythm that matched that of the waves on the shore.

The delicate sounds that escaped his lips, the way he closed his eyes and a little crease appeared between his eyebrows when I jolt of pleasure shot through him. The way he tried so hard to get hold of his senses, so he wouldn’t get carried away and end up hurting her was absolutely endearing. The shaky sighs when it seemed like he wouldn’t be able to hold it any longer, and he would whisper sweet nothings in her ear to help her relax and ease her pain. Everything little thing he did was to guide her into her own pleasure, and he lovingly lead her there. It was only after he felt her writhing in ecstasy beneath him that Jim let himself find his own release, and he came undone buried deep inside her. And that’s how they fell asleep, him never leaving the warm nest of her body.

At the sunrise they walked into the ocean hand in hand. Jim was ready to leave everything behind and become one with the sea. Smiling at each other, they disappeared beneath the waves, where they could live together forever, away from all the pain and trouble of his human life. His mortal shell was found lying face down on the sand, on a beach located south of his family’s home. But it was only when his ashes dissolved with the sea-foam that he fully became a Child of the Ocean for good.

As happy as he was with his new life in his new aquatic home, Jim knew he would never stop feeling guilty about leaving his family behind. Specially Medina. They had come into the world together, it was not fair that she would have to walk on it alone now. Part of him wanted to bring her along so she could live with him and the other sea creatures. But he knew his twin sister still had much to do on the land. She was going to travel. Surf and see the world, as they had promised each other they do together.

He only hoped she knew he had never truly left her. He hoped she would know where to look whenever she missed him. She would always find his eyes, gently watching over her, from the infinite blue where the sky meets the ocean. If she missed his laugh, or the sound of his voice, she only had to sit quietly and listen to the murmur of the waves. He would be there, whispering her his secrets, as he always had. When she felt herself being touched by the warm rays of sunshine on a clear morning, it would be him. Wrapping her in a loving embrace. He hoped she new. That as long as Medina could find her way back to the sea, Jim would always be with her.

Taglist: (I don´t have a permanent taglist, these are just some of my dear friends who I think might enjoy this story) @are-you-lilith-or-eve @babydollcake @blakewaterxx @cam-elija @ccodyfern @consultingsnowqueen @coollangdon @emmyrosee @hecohansen31 @katiekitty261 @langdonsdemon @lathraios @livocc @lostin-fern @lovelylangdonx @maso-xchrist @mega-combusken @michael-langdon-appreciation @mytrash-mylife @no-need-for-rules @the-prima-belladonna @puppy5474 @queen-of-quotes @rocketgirl2410 @rosegoldrichie @satans-cool-friend @sojournmichael @wroteclassicaly

[hellrisen]

@diabhales

TITLE: SOAKED FROM THE WAIST DOWN.  SETTING: DUNK TANK.  STARRING: LETHA NEWMAN & BEAU ROCHESTER.

LETHA: as if served on a silver platter, letha has to contain the giddiness rallying up inside her upon the view of beau rochester — sitting atop a $1 dollar dunk tank. not yet spotted, she rummages through her pants pocket for the needed change. perfect, brilliant, absolutely fucking amazing. a casual stroll, arms fold across her chest as she approaches. “ sup, beauregard. „

BEAU: Of course Letha has to roll up. If she'd have been the one in the tank — as he'd expressed to Kai earlier, Beau would stand there all day: ball in hand, dunking on repeat. But, naturally, the fact that she was doing it annoyed him endlessly. As she did all the time. "Letha Newman," he calls back from his position atop the tank. "Don't worry about paying to fail. I don't think anyone wants to lug around warm pennies if it'd leave you in such a tough financial spot."

LETHA: normally, heat would collect in cheeks and all the way up to her ears upon one of his comments. but there was no denying the power had shifted. and how it had. a smile forcing itself onto tanned features, letha hands the other person her hard earned money. “ wow … even as you’re about to be served a fat, greasy plate of karma you don’t shut up. „ beat. “ is that your talent for the show? your unsolicited commentary? „

BEAU: Regardless of the accuracy of her statement — if there was one thing Beau could do well, it was chime in where he didn't belong, especially when it came to anything Letha did — he wasn't going to sit there and take it lying down. He leans forward in his seat, water disrupted below him from rickety machine. "No, I'm not participating. I don't have that kind of desperation for 5k."  Eyebrow quirked, smile appearing on his face full of smarm & sarcasm. "Or attention."

LETHA: beau was, unfortunately, right. while her own participation was a last minute decision, it had been one entirely based on escaping the monthly dependency on the rochesters. he always did have to hit below the belt. lips pressing together tight, fingers clench the ball just the same. a fierce throw his way, and she misses — the target at least. it manages to swirl upwards, colliding with the wall right above his shoulders instead. a fail in multiple regards. “ fuck … „ she murmurs.   BEAU: Speaking of hitting and belts ... the ball sails easily above his, and above the target, landing against the plastic wall behind him, and falling into the water below. Classic — and something that couldn't have gone better for him. "Hey, Newman, you're supposed to hit the target. Not try and take my head off." A sarcastic tut, face miserable but eyes twinkling with the joy of getting one over her, at least for a minute. "That's very violent of you. There's families here, you know."

LETHA: there’s an urge — never ceasing in its tumorous growth — to strangle beauregard rochester. if only until he passes out for a minute or two. and if you were to ask anyone, anyone at all, letha newman was not the aggressive type. sometimes passive to a fault, practically running from confrontation when presented with it. yet … beau. beau fucking rochester. a cartoon iteration of the event would include steam erupting out of her ears and eyes going dark, dark, dark. “ i’m getting there. „ she snaps. “ it’s called building the tension. alright? „ another bill fished out and she hands it off. “ — … ready? „

BEAU: He rolls his eyes, clearly unimpressed by both her aim and her attempts to justify it. "Born ready — It's a warm day out, I've been trying to get a little swim in." He complains, though tone of voice and the fact that it's even directed at Letha in the first place, shows that he isn't really interested in touching the water. He doesn't hate her — she's merely an annoyance, someone seemingly so set on making him ... well, annoyed. She's certainly digging herself a big hole that leads to more aggressive response through, and a bullseye might speed up the digging process. "We're all waiting on you." We're all including the inhabitant of the booth next to him, maybe, and the bored looking attendant. Not exactly a crowd.

LETHA: beau’s comment cut short, the ball is hurled his way. and to everyone’s surprise, letha’s included, she hit the bullseye. a SMACK, then … a splash. excitement bubbles through her whole being, overshadowing disbelief, and it comes pouring out. feet leaving gravel, the triumph is celebrated through a delighted squeak, and a victory dance ensuing. including hops of pure delight as she struggle to contain the poor sportsmanship. “ yes, yes, fuck yeah! „ childish, check. entirely justified … check, check, and check. “ sucks to suck, doesn’t it, beau? „ words less than cordial, wide grin presented waters down the hostility.

BEAU: with a satisfying whack against the target — satisfying for letha, at least, he's sure — he falls into the water the words you... trailing off as the seat below him collapses. head coming up out of the cold as he stands, he shakes out his hair in something reminiscent of a wet dog. "beginners luck," he calls out, already hoisting himself back up to the now uncollapsed seat. "or, i guess it'd be second time's the charm? batting 1-1 isn't really success ... though considering your lack of athleticism..." he settles in fully, relaxing back in the chair with eyebrows raised and cockiness entering his tone. bold, for someone now soaking wet. "you probably wouldn't get the baseball metaphor."

LETHA: with a win, beau’s grip on her had loosened, and the biting remarks became nibbles. still, eyes roll as they always would.   “   i have other places to be, you know.   „   she points out, though another dollar is fished out and handed off. douche.   “   best out of three?   „   a purely rhetorical question as a ball is immediately swung —— hitting the target for a second time; the same glee erupting in her chest, all whilst lips press into a fine line in forced composure.

BEAU: he falls again, same motions repeated — stand in the water, climb back up, make a snide comment towards letha. the third part was a daily occurrence, no need for a dunk tank to exacerbate feud. alright, now he'd gave to think a little to annoy her.  "other places? " comment is interrupted as he climbs back into the chair. " i didn't realise the pool's snack stand was all that intriguing. " a beat, and her calls out to the dunk tank attendant, "hey, give her her money back. she needs it." back to letha. "you're welcome to keep getting your aggression out. my treat!"

LETHA: and there it is again, that beauregard induced agitation. it trickles back in : overcoming momentary bliss and triumph, urging her to ignore the attendant’s puzzled stare … and reach out for a new, unpaid for, ball. it doesn’t linger in her possession for long — instead catapulted out of her grasp, the way of beau. and it hits. just not what she’d aimed for. hands instinctively snap to her mouth, stifling a gasp as the ball tumbles into the water. although letha hadn’t aimed at his face, convincing him otherwise would be futile.   “   oh my god!   „  she exclaims, moving towards the dunk tank : coming to a full stop before she’s within an arm’s length. to be safe.   “   are you okay?   „

BEAU: taunts all in good fun — at least fun for him, perhaps a little cruel headed in her direction — are ended when the ball sails well over the target and way off from the target. at least his baseball metaphor had been inaccurate, but the bright green of the tennis ball had smacked squarely into his eye. hand flies up to it, and the seat shakes with sudden stunned movement, but luckily, does not fall as letha rushes up to him. yet. an attempt to beckon her closer with momentary sympathy he know's he'll lose, hand remains firm on eye. "does it look too bad?"

LETHA: he’s not yelling. though rather than luck, she considers it the calm before the storm. a grimace, letha takes another step to further investigate damage done.   “   no.   „   she lies. poorly at that, and her face is bound to give her away.   “   … you’re bleeding.   „   a fact which does not bode well for letha newman … or her financial reliance on the spoiled, albeit injured, brat ahead.

BEAU: mechanics of the dunk tank are mystifying, and beau assumes rather than rentals, someone in eden must have made them themselves. sides low enough to send water careening out if there's a particularly sudden fall, they're stationed by the hoses for constant refills. no cage surrounding them, a safety violation if he's ever seen one — and now he reaps the consequences of that part. lastly — falls not only triggered by the pushing of the target, but of sudden movement ... and a tiny lever under the seat. hand removed fully from eye as if to investigate, hand swings under him, sending an injured beau falling downwards suddenly ... and quite a bit of water over the sides of the tank and, at least partially, over letha. vague, weak revenge doesn't do as much to satiate frustration as he thinks it would, and once fall is over and shock from the sudden injury is placated, annoyance fills his tone. "there must seriously be something seriously fucking wrong with you if you lash out like that," he grumbles, voice raised. "we've got lawyers on retainer, you know." good ones, the rochester's wealth a secret to neither of them, even if threat is empty. he touches his eye gently. bleeding he is indeed, and the area around it is sure to bruise.

LETHA: despite a hurried step back, beau manages to soak her from the waist and down. fair enough. she would take this over a shiner any day. a truth kept to herself as she hurries to her own defence. voice whiny and childish —— sounding more like a little kid caught with its hand in the cookie jar than an apologetic adult.   “   it was an accident!*   „   she was starting to wish it hadn’t been. he deserved it. if not for today then for all the previous combined.   “   and there’s nothing wrong with me.   „    that was up for debate. luckily, he was unaware of the turmoil which possessed her life. aside for the financial portion.   “  i mean, i’m not the one threatening to go crying to daddy. what are you, beau, five?   „

BEAU: he scoffed, so enraptured with both his injury and taking out the blame for it on letha that it didn’t seem to matter that he was still standing waist deep in water. at least he was prepared enough to wear swim trunks — no matter what level of cockiness, someone was bound to hit him in multiple times throughout the day. he just didn’t anticipate it would be letha. twice. he recomposes, gone is what's gained from increased anger ... and he's returned to the usual level of annoyed back & forth for benefit of his own pride. “oh — i’m five? you’re the one hurling things at people because you got your feelings hurt. little playground etiquette for you, newman. you don’t get to kick sand because someone has more toys than you.” his eye hurt like a bitch, but he wasn't about to nurse it in front of her. as far as letha could be concerned, he was barely phased by her antics.

LETHA: jean sticks to her legs, chafing wet thighs and adding another layer of thick, impenetrable annoyance to the situation.   “   i wish it’d been on purpose.   „   a snap in her voice, letha grabs a bundle of — previously folded, now crumbled — singles.   “  in fact, i wish i’d broken your big, stupid friggin’ nose.   „   temptation is found in the act of tossing change onto the ground but manners keep a fist from unclenching where she stood. pacing back to baffled attendant, letha hands her the whole of the day’s budget. and then, like the five year old she was so insistent not to be, she spins back around.   “   it’d probably look better.   „   juvenile but satisfactory, she adds punctuation with a classic storm off.

BEAU: watching with raised eyebrows — or, raised eyebrow, considering that any movement near the other eye was painful enough. "my nose isn't big, it's strong, and it is considered attractive in many cultures!" beau called out, but letha had already turned on her heel and stormed away. typical: starting a fight, couldn't take the heat ... he climbs up back past the seat, and makes his way out of the tank, ice pack waiting for him as the attendant places letha's crumbled bills into the EDEN CHARITY FAIR fanny packs. man, is he glad he doesn't have to wear one of those. somewhat turned off by the fact that the dunk tank had been so prepared for injury, after a minute or two of standing around, he resumes his prior position, eye feeling only slightly better, still stewing at letha's purposeful attack.

[immortalarchives]

2. MR HOLLYWOOD

THE LINE TO CHECK INTO OUR HOTEL looked extremely long which seemed absolutely ridiculous to me. It was a rather large hotel but it still seemed absurd that it could hold that many people in line plus the people already staying. The wait, though, went fast. It felt like a blur, almost. Like one second we were at the end of the line and the next we were getting settled in our hotel rooms. (Yes, three rooms one for our grandparents, one for our parents and one for us, now having to share with Pandora and Elizzy).

"Anyone want tea?" Pandora offered the second we entered our hotel room.

It was just the six of us. The siblings. Pandora. Elizzy.

"Is this your way of fulfilling your british stereotype?" Nikko asked the rather harsh question but in a lighthearted tone. Regardless, I still shot him a dirty look which he shot one back without hesitation.

Pandora ignored our exchange as she sat her luggage down. " You could say that. Also, simply trying to give thanks for allowing us to stay with you for a couple nights."

Maya was still eyeing the pair with suspicion but didn't say anything, although I could tell she wanted to.

"What tea do we have?" Chloe inquired to be nice.

She began to head over to the little coffee/tea set up that was complimentary from the hotel but was interrupted by Pandora. "No, my dear, I brought tea."

"Ah. 'Course you did," I blurted, sounding much more harsh than I intended to. Pandora didn't flinch though.

"But I have Earl Grey, orange, peppermint, Chai, ginger, green and vanilla," she responded, pulling out the boxes from her bag as if she was fucking Mary Poppins.

"Do you just carry tea everywhere?" Maya asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Hm. I was going across the world to bloody America. I might as well bring my tea," she declared. "Now what will everyone have."

We all passed with the exception of Chloe and Elizzy which seemed to leave Pandora rather disappointed in not being able to flex her skills in tea making. But anyways, nothing happened much else that day. The whole group got together in one room to have dinner together, the adults conversating with Pandora with no problem at all while the four of us stayed rather wary of her.

She was, however, still a stranger with the chance of being a serial killer.

The next morning, I wake up before everyone with the exception of Pandora who was up making tea. I contemplated going back to sleep or waking one of my siblings up to avoid having to endure an awkward conversation with this girl. But before I had the chance to do so, Pandora asked, "Would you like some tea, Kacey?" Without even glancing at me and saying my name with an edge that I didn't like.

It was confirmed then and there, that she had eyes on the back of her head. Or more realistically that I had been rustling too loudly, letting her know I was awake. Damn her.

"I'm going to have to pass on that offer," I replied, assuming she was putting poision into the tea.

"Your loss," Pandora declared with quite the disappointed shrug of her shoulder. She really wanted to show off her tea-making skills for some fucking reason.

I was rather tired so I decided it was an excellent time to put on my detective's hat and ask Pandora questions to determine who the actual hell she was. Because yes, I'm as good as Sherlock Holmes, himself.

"So... how did you and Elizzy meet?" I asked, trying to sound completely intrested while my voice was painfully groggy from sleep.

Pandora turned a bit to pour sugar into a cup of tea, allowing me to see her lips quirk up at the question. In the way that an adult's mouth would when a child asking a rather naive or adorable question. She really was testing me, wasn't she.

"Ah," she finally exclaimed. "Yes. We met in London, you see. I was orphaned and I knew her through a family friend so I decided to contact her. To my surprise and delight, she was in fact in London at the time, not too far from where I was living. I met up with her and we had quite a lovely discussion on whether or not she should adopt me. She doesn't have much going for her except waitressing at some sad little town near Los Angeles. Her modeling and singing career have unfortunately not been successful so she thought she could handle adopting a child. You know, to keep herself from being bored. And luckily, I not only fend for myself, she doesn't have to make her own coffee or tea in the morning."

I looked at her, not really knowing what to say, unfortunately not having a witty saying on hand. So she decided to take that to her advantage by turning to me with this smug-looking smile, holding her tea cup elegantly with one hand. That action, of course, only made me dislike her even more.

"I know you don't like me and whether or not your reason is justifiable for that, I don't care. I just want you to know that I don't intend to hurt you. Ever. I would never do such a thing. When I say I know your mother, I really do," she declared and took a sip from her tea before glancing at me through her glasses.

I think I disliked her even more after hearing that. I was definitly a year or more older than her and she was regarding me like I was a baby. I wished my siblings would wake up- or at least Elizzy- because I had enough of this dumb one to one talk with Pandora.

"Ah," I responded then tucked myself back in bed, deciding it would be better to pretend sleep. "Yes. Through a family friend."

I knew she looked at me like I was dumb or like an enfant but I didn't care. She was using some technique on me to get under my skin. I wondered why but I also did not want to be around her much longer to find out.

We all decided to be the tourists we were and headed down to the pool, later that very day. It was rather large, made up of four different pools and swarming with tipsy adults. Chloe, of course, was busy complaining about how disgusting it all was via FaceTime the whole way down. I was surprised when no one told her to shut up, especially mom.

Once down there, we headed towards the lazy river since there were less people there than other pools. Still, there had to be at least a hundred people making their way through it.

We rented a few inner tubes that were set at an unreasonable fee and got in with the exception of our grandparents and parents.

The six remaining of us were rather split up. Elizzy and Pandora sat on two inner tubes close to one another (A note: Elizzy was looking close to perfection with her glamorous sunglasses and brightly colored cocktail in hand). My siblings and I decided to race since there was not much to do. However, the race automatically just turned into a rivalry between Nikko and I once Chloe and Maya got bored.

We were shouting insults at each other and splashing and pushing each other out of the way to get ahead. I can't imagine all the glares we must've earned from those drunk, probably stoned people. We were 16 but we insisted that we acted like annoying eight-year-olds. Don't blame you if you don't like us.

"All right! All right!" I eventually said, not realizing how out of breath I was. "Time out!"

Nikko gave me a disgusted look and kept swimming forward. "No way!"

I gave him a look. "Nikko. I need to take a piss and unless you want me to pee all over you in this pool –"

"Ew gross, just go," Nico declared, wrinkling his nose in pure disgust.

I gave him a satisfied grin and in return, he flips me off. We love a functional wholesome sibling relationship, don't we?

So I got out of the pool and headed towards where this big sign said 'Restrooms'. I was halfway there when quite literally somebody bumped into me, nearly causing me to fall. I managed to steady myself but the other person's sunglasses flew off their head and skittered to the ground.

Almost like a reflex I bent down to grab the sunglasses before the owner did and said, "Sorry." Then thought I had no reason to be. I didn't bump into them.

But as I handed back the Ray Bans, I realized who I was looking at looked quite familiar. And then it clicked.

"Hey – Are you... Owen Greene?" I asked.

To this, he snatched the sunglasses out of my hands and quite aggressively shoved them on. Owen Greene was a famous child star in Hollywood when he was about five or six. His fame kind of died not too long after. But even as a post-puberty 16-year-old boy, standing in front of me, I had difficulty understanding why Hollywood didn't want to cast them. It's gross saying this because there is more to people than their physical attributes, but he was pretty attractive and looked to fit play a dashing Prince in one of those fantasy movies I don't care much for.

But standing in front of me, he gave me a once over work like he was scanning me. I frowned at that.

"What?"

He barely moved.

"No cameras. No autograph. No story" he snapped. "Do you work for a magazine or a media outlet of any form?"

I blinked in shock both at his harsh tone and the words he was spitting at me. "Not that I know of."

"How about a crazy obnoxious fan?" He ordered even further.

"A fan? You were popular about 10 years ago and at the time, I was much more into Dora," I replied.

My comment made him laugh at first but almost immediately he stopped himself. That was enough to make me laugh.

"Is everything all right?" I asked him, not used to so much paranoia.

"I've just –" he started then stopped himself. "You've got no idea how lucky you are."

I snorted at that. He was a gorgeous Hollywood star who may not be as famous as he once was but was probably a millionaire. His whole life was basically granted to him on a silver platter. "Really? How so?"

Owen made a face. Like he scrunched up into a crumpled jumble as he thought up a response to that. Then he hesitated.

"Because you're normal. I doubt you've ever had to run away from stupid people who only use you to get money," he sputtered out with disdain – not towards me but most likely, Hollywood.

I didn't blame him. From what I've heard in the past, fame sounds pretty shitty. Stories like Princess Diana's have always caused me to steer clear from the spotlight and aspire for a less popular domain.

"At least you're rich," I pointed out.

"Fine. You win on that," he said with a sigh. "But it's not like I touch most of the money I've earned."

"So you're a Hollywood runaway, huh?" I asked and began to eye what he probably thought was a disguise to hide from whatever it was he was running from.

I will say, it was a pretty bad disguise. I mean he did still look like Prince Charming even if he was trying to go for an ugly, tourist hobo look. His fair fell to his shoulders, he wore a hideous Hawaiian shirt and swim trunks and God, even worse- a bucket hat.

"Yes," he said then his eyes noticeably widened from behind his sunglasses. "But I swear to God, if you send me back to Hollywood, that wretched place, I will ruin your fam-"

"No you won't," I interrupted with an amused smile.

He then pouted like an oversized baby. "I can and I will."

"Ah, I see," I said then held out my pinky. "I pinky promise I won't tell anybody about this."

He looked down at my pinky like I was crazy. "What- are you like eight?"

I laughed at that. Jesus Christ, he had a stick up his ass but for some reason, I found him so much easier to talk to, compared to most people. It was jus easy to sass him despite all of the glares he gave.

"'Course I am, Greene," I declared then with a sigh, he wrapped his pinky around mine.

Then we stood there for a rather awkward moment not saying anything. I was someone who had pretty shit social anxiety so of course, this awkward silence was nothing new to me at all. Then, God bless him, Owen broke the silence "What now?"

"I suggest changing your disguise," I blurted, not really mean it.

He glared at me. "What? What's wrong with it?"

I couldn't help but giggle at him and held my hand up to cover my mouth.

"What!?" He demanded.

"You just-  you just look like a hobo tourist. Or tourist hobo... It's just not-" and the look he gave me, only made me laugh even more.

"Fine! Then what do you suggest my disguise should be!" He said with the anger forced into his voice.

I looked him over once again and just cringed at it, allowing myself to express it for you know, emphasis.

"First of all, cut your hair. It's terrible. And maybe not dress like... Like you're a fucking homeless man whose trying to sightsee and fit in," I teased further.

He rolled his eyes then grabbed a hold of my wrist for a moment as if a motion to get me to walk with him. I panicked a bit at first but he was gentle and let go of me, almost instantaneously

"Where we going?" I asked him.

"Getting my haircut and a change of clothes, apparently," he grumped.

I crossed my arms. "And what? You need me to supervise you?"

He gave me another lovely pissed off glance – he was extremely good at those, I recalled.

"Yes because you apparently know how to give me a better disguise," he snapped.

I had my phone on me – if things went wrong, I could easily consult my family. I also thought it was about time Kacey Maxwell had a chance to run off with a boy. Even though, I had no feelings for him whatsoever, of course, I just enjoyed the excitement of it all. So I let him take me inside the hotel where he moped into the hotels very own salon. (It's Vegas, of course they had a hair salon) while he forced me to be his shopping servant, handing me 100 bucks for me to buy him something.

About 15 minutes in and I was looking for shirts for Owen Greene, himself, I got a call from Chloe.

"Hey? Everything all right?" She asked when I picked up. "You've been gone for a bit."

Okay. How the hell do you explain to your sister that you decided to give a former Hollywood star a makeover? I wrinkled my nose.

"Yeah. Just headed back to the room-  forgot sunscreen," I explained on the spot.

Quite honestly, I think she would've believed me more if I just had straight up told her I had runoff with Owen Greene.

"You... Went back to the room... All by yourself... In a hotel... infested with crazed, probably drunk gamblers... With a chance there's rapists around-"

"You would go to the room without a problem," I defended, not wondering whether that would be true or not.

"I most certainly would have a problem with it. And I'm less anxious than you are."

I rolled my eyes at that and picked out a shirt on a rack that I thought would look nicely on Owen.

"I'm more independent," I pointed out. "I know how to handle things on my own more than you."

She sighed dramatically and I could just picture her sunbathing, sprawled on one of those hotel chairs. Jesus Christ, Chloe Maxwell was the most extra person I had ever met.

"Fine. If that's where you say you are, I guess I must believe it," she declared. "Just call me if you accidentally run into a rapist."

I picked out a pair of shorts, hoping it would look fine on Owen (I wasn't an expert in men's fashion, unfortunately) and headed to the cashier to pay.

"Will do," I promised Chloe. "Look, gotta go. Be out soon."

Before she could respond, I hung up on her then headed to the cashier. I paid for everything with Owen's money then left the shop to meet up with Owen. The salon was only a short walk from the store and I decided to wait outside for them.

Slumped on the bench, wearing my swimsuit cover-up and flip-flops I played candy crush because I swear to God, I had the mental age of both a seven-year-old and 82-year-old.

About four rounds later, Owen walked out, looking around, probably for me. With a sigh, I got up and handed him the bag of clothes.

"How do I look?" He asked.

I looked him over with an unamused glance. "Less like a hobo tourist."

"That's a huge improvement," he declared, then allowed himself to chuckle. "Wanna go back to the pool?"

The second he suggested it, I began to turn my way towards the exit to the pool. He followed suit, still wearing his ugly Hawaiian shirt and put his disgusting bucket hat back on over his hair.

"How long are you going to be here in Vegas?" he asked.

"Unfortunately, a week."

"Unfortunately?"

"Yes, unfortunately. This place is full of gross ass, drunk, kinky people," I replied.

"Oh," he said. "I like Vegas."

I smirked and quirked an eyebrow at that. "Really? Are you gross and kinky, yourself?"

He shot me a dirty look (a glance, not anything sexual, Jesus Christ). "Shut up, er... wait, I don't even know your name."

He was probably used to that. People knowing his name and him knowing nobody's.

"Kacey," I replied.

"Kacey," he repeated it. "I like that. It's pretty."

I wrinkled my nose. "Don't you dare start with that shit."

He chuckled then rubbed the back of his neck, awkwardly. Fuck, I also hated this. "Can I... can I hang out with you today?"

The way he asked it was almost childish. As if he was some insecure asking an older kid to hang out. I let out a sigh.

"Yes but I would like you to know I'm traveling with my siblings- two of which I like, one of whom I hate- my parents and my grandparents," I warned him. "Let's hope they won't mind me bringing them a fucking runaway Hollywood Star."

[gofancyninjaworld]

OPM Chapter 93 Thoughts

<20 in bold at the end.

It goes without saying that if you've not read this chapter yet, you probably shouldn't read this!

Typeset: https://imgur.com/a/cuCBt76

Youtube video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AopCejGDKMg

The ART!

If there’s only one thing I’d declare my love for, it’d have to be the art.  It brought the characters and the sense of place to life in a way I’ve not yet seen in One-Punch Man.

This chapter round, Murata did not pour his energy into elaborate backgrounds or spectacular scenes. His assistants did wonderfully at the backgrounds, particularly in showing the dereliction of City Z. So you'd think this chapter would be quick and easy to knock out? NO. WAY. Murata poured his art into detailing and delineating characters, bringing their very souls to life as we've rarely seen before. So many characters, both familiar and new. Along with the incredible character interaction, this chapter has been a real treat for the eyes as well as the mind.  

More thoughts still under the cut!

Chapter Theme: You Can't Escape the Pressure

Everyone is under pressure. It's on everyone, both that imposed by the external circumstances and that imposed on themselves by the characters. So much of the ugliness we see in the S-Class meeting comes from that pressure. I'll deal with Fubuki, Bang, King and Genos separately.

The collective pressure to prove themselves is on the support heroes. While they may be the support, their role is just as crucial and their objectives are many -- containing any escaping monsters, clearing an escape route and making sure that Waganma is escorted to safety. OneShotter definitely feels the toughness of the assignment while Needle Star focusses on the other side of the pressure: the potential reward of promotion.

Even at the top, the pressure is intense. If anything it's worse. Being based in A-City, the executives have to look at the results of their failure every single day, at the still-raw lunar landscape that used to be most of A-City. Metal Knight didn't even bother trying to fill in the larger craters, but just built road bridges over them. Sekingal may be ambitious but he has earned Sicchi's respect for not merely being the guy in the suit who sits back in relative safety while sending heroes to their doom. He's going to be there with them -- he's tied not just his reputation and career trajectory to the success of the mission, but his very life.

I don't think many people would begrudge Sekingal his ambition nor any of the support heroes for being politically shrewd in their desire for promotion. They're doing the work and taking the risks, why shouldn't they make sure to get their reward? It's people who use politicking as a substitute for doing the good work whom we object to.

Wanted: Leadership and Unity

ONE has long had a special dislike for experts without actual expertise. One of his early cameo characters was a Mr. Nanmoshirane (Mr. I don’t know) who was a pundit making useless pronouncements on the mosquitoes that had appeared over City Z. So, why is a ten year old in charge of S-Class? Because he's the best at the job and has lots ofleadership experience? HA, not a bit of it! It's because he's clever (technologically), is available, and is the only one who will speak up. 

Unfortunately, Child Emperor hasn't got the personal authority to shut down dissent and is having to rely on mollifying the egos of the other heroes to keep them all on side and focussed on the threat in front of them.   To watch the clash of titanic egos as they try to work out how best to approach the Monster Association raid is to feel for Child Emperor.  But he manages.

And then Sweet Mask appears.  As a deeply disliked and barely respected hero, his presence is unwelcome in the first instance and his insistence in not just joining the strike team but leading it started to create an ugly situation. 

Watching the S-Class meeting nearly implode into bloodshed, all I can think is with allies like this, who needs enemies? It's evident that no matter how talented the individuals are, without a sense of shared purpose around which they can rally and actual strong leadership, they're going to be easily working at cross-purposes to one another.

Fubuki: The Power of Spite

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned? I guess Shakespeare knows what he's talking about -- here comes Miss Blizzard and she's looking to raise hell, both with the Monster Association and with her sister.

So much of her anger is not for the monster, Do-S, who brainwashed her group. After all, Do-S is a monster -- that's what monsters do. It's for Tatsumaki, who seriously hurt the members of her group and who has now had her dismissed without so much as a say. That's what she cannot forgive. She's taking them both on, both on a personal level and on the behalf of the group of heroes and compatriots she loves and nurtures.

While it's hilarious that she thinks of Saitama's group as her 'new' Fubuki group and is outraged at how completely she's ignored, her astuteness cannot be faulted.

Go Blizzard!

Bang: A Shabby Way to Treat a Good Man

I salute Bang's sense of responsibility in coming all the way out to A-City in order to find out what is going on, since the loss of his communicator has meant that he has no way to keep abreast of the situation. Watching Sicchi lie to Bang's face was just painful.

It's shocking how quickly narratives grow up around events. Sicchi may have defended Bang staunchly to the other executives, but he's asking if Bang let Garou go. Even Bomb is questioning Bang over it. And Bomb was there! You see how deeply this hurts Bang.

And yet, even now, Bang hasn't given up on Garou. He's jumped at the chance to 'accompany' King as he puts it in order to fulfil his duty to apprehend Garou. Maybe even to save him if he still can.

King: The Paper Tiger Becomes a Cardboard Tiger

King running away only to get himself deeper into trouble is nothing new, although it's wonderfully done here. His accidentally defusing the S-Class meeting's tension was absolutely stellar timing. And how freaky is it that even through several walls, Zombieman can hear the King engine?

However, what's new is that King can be mighty brave... so long as it's from behind Saitama. Watching King dying inside even as he puts on a brave face and says brave-sounding things has been quite the edifying development. He so wasn't counting on being bundled off to the Monster Association like a secret weapon though. Being deferred to and consulted by the other heroes was terrifying enough. The out-of-body experience he was having at the end is one for the ages. :D

You Wait Forever For A Cyborg And Then Three Come At Once

Conventional wisdom is that a cyborg is hard to kill. Defeat one, sure. Kill one, that takes some dedication. Accordingly, we see the return of Jet Nice Guy, phew! His backstory is that he won the lottery, then used his winnings on buying body modification surgery -- I'm glad they were good enough to keep him alive and that he's still got enough money (and enough desire) to return to hero work, looking better than ever. Learning that Drive Knight is also a cyborg has been awesome. Finally the question of what Drive Knight is has been settled, although the clues have been there for a while, mostly in Murata's art spreads, one of which shows him eating noodles through his mouth grille and another that shows him lounging in the swimming pool with a snorkel. His cyborg nature is why the rest of the S-Class are hoping that he may yet be alive, even if he's incapacitated.

I hope that we get to see what Jet Nice Guy and Drive Knight do. I hope the conventional wisdom isn't tested too hard!

As to the cyborg we know best, Genos, he has has gone dragon-crazy. [That said, his enabler-in-chief, Dr. Kuseno, has no right to say that it is Genos who is reckless: there's a bit of the devil in the old man too, what with putting such a badly-balanced build together for him.] I think I see the rational side of why Genos is gunning for dragon-level monsters so hard. As far as he's concerned, they're just a stepping stone in his path to strength -- huge, treacherous, bitey stepping stones, but stepping stones nonetheless. But they're rare monsters. If one pops up, it'll be assigned to Tatsumaki or a group of well-tested S-Class heroes. As a new guy who is still building his track record, Genos has no chance of being assigned one, not even to support another hero.

The conservative way to become a dragon-slayer is to painstakingly grind away, improving his proficiency with demon-level monsters until the HA is so confident in his ability to deal with them that they'd consider briefing him on joining other S-Class heroes to deal with a dragon-level threat. That'll take weeks. Genos is a little less... patient.

The Monster Association is the only place where he's guaranteed a crack at them. There are five main possible outcomes.

A: He gets killed or crippled (the scenario that literally keeps Dr. Kuseno awake). It is a risk that exists regardless of what he does -- monsters target even the most peaceable civilians. As a hero, Genos has a great big target on his back anyway.

B: He gets beaten down without taking out any dragons. Here's the thing: at the very least he's no worse off than beforeand he gets invaluable battle data to build up on. The data will help to sort between changes and strategies that were never going to work and those that might yet work with some improvement.

C: He gets beaten down but kills or critically injures at least one dragon. He gains that invaluable battle data plus a basis on which to consolidate gains. Gets a promotion to around S-10 (more likely rank 10 - 12)

D: He doesn't get beaten down and kills or critically injures at least one dragon. He can work on using data and experience to further refine the fighting platform. Gets promotion to well within top ten and to ask Saitama for his next assignment.

E: He doesn't get beaten down but doesn't take down any dragons, either. This scenario will have Dr. Kuseno sigh in relief, but it's the only really bad outcome from his perspective. He's lost data and the chance to tackle such monsters. He'll have to grind like mad and hope for another lucky break.

I rate the likelihoods of the various scenarios as A - 0%; (ONE isn't about to kill Genos over this fight), B - 60%; (no change from webcomic), C - 39%; (it's a big step up and still respects what happens in the webcomic), D - 1%; (in that case the first half of chapter 108 is redundant) and E - 0%; (don't worry boy, here be lots of dragons).

Rounding up

This may have been a set up chapter, but it was anything but uneventful. 32 people are responding to what is for most, the greatest challenge they've yet faced. Okay, one of them is Saitama and he's just wandering around oblivious to the import of anything.

I can't wait for the fights, when we see all the tensions and motivations explode into action.

<20: The keg is full of dynamite, and the fuse is lit. Bring on the explosion!

[commonalex]

Venus 3000

Definitely not my day. Either it will be my phone not ringing, either the ship getting slow as fuck to the platform or even Emily as I see her (and she sees that I see her) right before I was skipping line from a mexican dude for a sandwich. And neither did I get a nod nor a sandwich. Fuck.

I don't know why I said hi, I surely wasn't at my best and she didn't look too ok with it. I could pretend to study these ugly backs of the seats in front of me or keep on looking at the Pacific from my window while she was passing to seat at the first class. Sure, I could. But I was itching to learn why and how she justs appears here and just sits along with the richie rich folk. If only this notification for email and this nervous air hostess nagging about turning off out devices didn't hold me back from asking her on the spot.

"A reminder.

Make sure to fix your attitude and send some content, some good content this time, or we'll have problems to solve. Patience only lasts that long.

Sam, Assistant Manager."

Ah, simple, straight to the point and obnoxious Sam-the-assistant-manager as always, which she thinks she rules the world now that every serious person took a week of for the summer and she's left behind. I don't quite blame her, but she was asking me to reportabout local brunch restaurants and sunscreens just for the ads, only to get me to fly to Venus because Tyler got sickand all that crap.

Venus is just a dusty volleyball from the window when we get awaken by the stuff. Dunno if that's a tradition or not, but the pilot seemed to think that it was a good idea to sing happy birthday to each passenger that had birthday during the three month flight. It really was a good idea since I barely forgot Emily's birthday. I get myself around the seatbelts and get right back to them after the air hostess gives me the side eye. I take a minute to think about this and I see that i'ts kinda tricky to just play friends with her, so I stick to my shit. I take a look at my seat personal notifications to see what I missed. My sister's cat my only casualty. Pretty good if you compare that to the others beside me crying their eyes out for their loved ones that turned out less alive than expected. I guess I got pretty lucky. For a bit.

Cause this yuppie next to me takes his chance at starting a conversation with me about his newborn grandchild and as I'm known to enjoy this type of junk I tolerate this quirky little video of his daughter giving birth feeling physically disturbed. So disturbed I look away constantly, till I catch Emily in tears going to the bathroom of the first class (which is right in front of our class). I get closer to ask her what's wrong, only to get a cold shoulder. And I don't know what fucked me up the most, her attitude or this cringy video being almost twenty minutes long and me not having enough balls to tell him to stop it.

The pilot and his amazing texan accent wish us a nice stay at the colonies, thanking us for using Venus 3000 (yeah, wow) while I try to shut my helmet until the 'click'. We get out around this orange fog with some beacons shining in rhythm from far away. The reception authorities takes each one of us by the hand like babies until we get used to the different pressure. I take off my helmet first and try to communicate with this nice lady that holds me like her nephew about the distance from the hotel. I'm tired as hell and ready to sleep to my death.

I wake up from another notification from Sam-the-assistant-manager, underlying her previous nice words and sending me the schedule that I have to follow. If I can manage my time right, I could even get a second to pee between all those events, interviews and tryouts to get some footage (since the colonies authorities, for a reason I didn't quite get, were too willing to look for photos or videos you took during your time here, something that makes me understand what really got Tyler sick). But I shouldn't complain. It's only ten days and I got through the first one.

I get down, take just three bits and flee asking the reception about the Virtual Plaza where my appointment with the summer deputy head of the souther colony waits for me. I take the train get blown away by the ride. This so goddamn blue sky with small orange scratches from the dome, those weird asymmetrical buildings, those huge statues and columns resting on a never ending grass field and this coast. Yeah, coast as like sea (well, it's a big realistic pool, but still). I'm legit shook like the other passengers inside the train.

Somewhat irritated but gentle enough to not show it that much, Stephen Wang welcomes me with his uptight gestures and slick but uncomfortable warm suit (the colonies are always quite hot and summery). He looks a bit cold and all, but I get around him easily. Asking for some pics and then some answers to standard questions that no one gets uncomfortable with (about how he got here, how he feels, what the hell are the americans trying to build in this place along with these weird security measures) except for his security beast that checks my camera for footage and carries Stephen back to his car.

I walk around Virtual Plaza and see several kids bouncing around, playing with the slightly tweaked gravity in front of their disgustingly rich parents. Next to them some plain tourists playing with their drinks (it's too early for that) and a whole group of other tourists walking to the beach. I follow them creepily (they are in their swimsuits and I'm full clothed with a camera around my neck, just so everyone can get a bit uncomfortable) to this (close to a mile wide) shore where I let water touch my naked feet. It takes time to grasp what I really touch and/or feel.

Tired as hell, I return to the hotel to eat for the noon, getting several Venus facts from the speakers (couldn't give less of a fuck about them, though). And there she is once again, Emily, standing at the bar looking absolutely gorgeous, wearing something that costs like three times my salary. I get noticed, I smile at her, she smiles back and I decide to get to her while a old and bald penguin dude takes her by her hand for a spin. Not really hungry after that. I'm walking to the elevator with her quietly closing in. I look at her by accidentand see the same bitterness in her eyes, just like then before the take off.

Sleeping is not so easy on Venus. They tried all they could to simulate earth-like conditions (like day and night scheduling etc.), but that can't stop my biological clock from going nuts. So I fill my nights by looking at old convos with Emily as I deliberately avoiding her for the rest of the day. As for the work stuff, I managed to convince Sam that the communication delays are a pain in the ass and I can't send daily reports to get away with them. Sometimes I go for long night time walks, but those irish students looking for trouble and those faux cops that caught me filming the artificial forest the other day restrict me from enjoying anything but my room's satellite tv.

Days get so dry, dull and empty, too. When I don't have to ask the exact same things to weird army guys and Elon Musk wannabees, I need to listen at tiring speeches that all end up in how advanced and cool and hip this test is not only for humanity, but every form of life back to Earth. From top notch scientists and disgustingly rich white people to stupid youtubers and Robbie Williams (not kidding), all those people came exclusively to praise this initiative of the western world that officially puts the tombstone on the soviets after nearly ninety years of competition (not that it was that hard in the first place).

It only took a couple walks for me to see what those colonies had to offer me. All of those bright white columns, weird looking hotels and disturbingly tall palm trees just seem unpolished and lazy to me. Sand's just grated rocks, the sea smells like a chemistry lab, the food is processed to death and even the temperature gets a bit weird sometimes. The colonies are nothing more than huge hotel facilities, sprawling sparsely over a small island that floats in a large swimming pool. I'm fed up hearing about the hope of the future that starts herewhen I see old, pale fucks keeping on eating foie gras and using oil. This whole project is an ad that targets only the Kylie Jenners of this world that have a daily life of eating, sleeping and swimming in cash.

Sam-the-assistant-manager sure begs for these kind of reviews, but I'm risking my head for her. I only send her a draft without a slump of criticism, because I don't want any of those faux cops fucking with me just for writing bad things for them.

Three days before my flight, Stephen Wang drags me with his nerdy hands for another tour around the colonies. Oh look, art exhibitions, dance festivals, Robbie Williams (I needed this second time to make sure it was really him), even a luxurious cruise with a boat that smells just like burnt plastic. All slapping newand moderninside their names. All getting more and more random in my eyes. Wang clearly sees my disappointment and becomes troubled. He asks me if everything's fine, I respond with yeap, why notand not one second later I just leave my breakfast inches from the stern of the boat. So many days I spent here, and I only got to succeed in making a successful thirty year old career man lose his shit and getting nauseous from a pool. A fucking swimming pool.

Two days before my flight, my article looks like it's never gonna make it, especially with Sam's moaning about me giving away my hidden footage to Wang as an act of goodwill to the poor guy. I could finish the article regardless, but my mind starts to fade away. I spend more time looking at the forest from the window of my room than typing. It's already dark when a knock on the door kills my boredom. Emily knows me well enough to put aside my difficulty at finding something to say, dragging me to the beach with this cute rudeness that only she can pull off.

-You can be really mean if you want to

What can you say to her when she's one hundred percent right? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

-It's really hard for me to deal with your presence anymore, Emily. Try to understand me.

-Still, I don't deserve this kind of behavior;

-I know. And as far as you should know, I'm glad I found you here

-Really?

Really. But...

-But I don't quite prefer I found you here. It's not good for me to see you after all this times. I don't know how I could make this sound less douchey, but it is what it is.

I'm holding her hand to make her stay. She tries really hard not to hit me.

-You're making it so damn hard to trust you, you know that? I know you for so long and I still can't figure out if you crack jokes or turn serious.

I have a really hard time figuring this out myself, as well.

-I'm serious. It bugs me to act like nothing happened and this bald fuck touching you doesn't make it easier for me.

-You didn't seem to have this problem before, right? Let me remind you that it was you that didn't want to commit. What changed?

-Nothing

-You want it your way, as always

-Just like you, right? Only difference I have to wait for you to decide what exactly you want from me

-You're so bitter

-I'm in love

I can't stand fighting with her. She can't stand fighting with me. That's why we slow down a bit. We get cautious at our words now, we're testing each other's defences to avoid getting hurt.

-John passed away

-I'm really sor-

-No. No you are not. It's ok I guess, but I spent so much time with him and it got to me pretty hard

-You are wrong, I'm not that petty

-I was hunting you down for so many days to talk to you. You were hiding from me

It's difficult to make myself look more stupid.

-How you got here?

-John's health went south and he didn't want me to see him like this. It was something like a last gift from him.

-So you got this penguin to comfort you

-Please. Please don't make me regret my decision to talk to you. Please. I needed you in my life so damn much

I hate her for doing this. Not because she does it deliberately, but because it works. Most of the time.

-I think we have to stop having any type of contact, Emily. We can't do this anymore, can we?

I believe in what I say, I know I do, but it feels wrong actually saying, if that makes sense.

-You can't make it so damn easy to me. You just can't

-What do you mean?

-I do not intend to come back. I'm gonna stay here. Not coming back, like at all. You understand?

Oh I understand all right.

Just one day before my flight, I'm buried by the bed sheets and Emily. She plays with my hair and I lock myself on her as the purple dome turns to morning blue. Everything seems so right and wrong. Only this time there's no husband getting between us, just me feeling read to fall right off the window.

-Do not forget me, ok? I know I wont

And that's my soul being smashed to million pieces.

I greet her being super dazed, no idea why. My mouth is dry from the stress, the joy, the exhaustion and I can't help but puke inside the (empty, luckily) elevator. I'm sick, like legit sick. So sick that I lock myself back to my room ust to cry for god knows how long, only to get stopped by Sam. Where's the article, up your ass you fucking moron. I only got ten hours to get my head straight and there's no time for your dumb shit.

It is the same old lady who took me by the hand on my arrival that awaits with a big smile. I try to smile back but my lips are not responding. I could swear she almost pushes me to the plane, before I catch myself dragging my steps like a child. I get my helmet off to let me guilts breathe, trying to figure out how big I fucked up, how much of a coward I am for running away or how dumb I was for thinking about staying for her.

My condition's only getting worse. My ears are ringing as the passengers are sitting around me. They are somehow trapping me and I try to squeeze my eyelids until everything gets blurred so I can't understand much of what's going on and my plan's working pretty well until this australian chick shouts at the air hostess because I give her the creeps. I get up and get to the bathroom. I splash my face, look at my reflection, get disgusted, vomit and get out even more dazed than before.

A couple hundred of old ladies are staring at me with their either frighten eyes, waiting to see just where will I collapse. Unfortunately for them, Emily picks me up and sits me back down. Emily. Emily got a ticket and leaves. She leaves. She changed her mind and she leaves. With me.

-Be careful now, You all right?

-Emily, I think I love y-

-What?

Her face freezes, like I said something wrong to her. Her cheeks lose all of their color, those markings on her neck disappear, her long hair get more and more grey. I'm panicking, what the fuck is going on? Why is she like that? What did I do?

Nothing. I did nothing. It took a minute to get back to normal but here I am, stuck in my seat before sleeping, feeling the need to dig a hole on the floor and jump inside. Because it wasn't her.

It wasn't her.

It wasn't her.

[daveywankenobie]

OK

I will get the obvious out of the way.

I’m NOT feeling down.

There’s not a single fibre of my being that’s blue, malcontent, irritable, sad, annoyed, dissatisfied or irascible.

I have my mojo back and I’m workin it baby!

Part of my mood is (as always) attributable to a calming (and creative) nearby presence, who – while I write – is creating her own unique little pieces of art and beavering away with pliers and metal next to me.

It’s not at all unusual to see these little ‘jump rings’ floating around the house (occasionally the hoover finds more than it’s fair share) and in a radical departure from how things used to be I now find that I live in a world where (for the very first time in my life) I’m considering and appreciating the aesthetic merits of all kinds of jewellery.

This used to be something I wasn’t particularly keen on.

I have always viewed people (male or female) that were dripping in jewellery as materialistic. I didn’t understand why they needed such (usually golden) things, and for the longest time (mostly because I wanted simplicity but also because I had fat sweaty wrists) I never even wore a watch.

When I make the first tentative attempts to connect with my other half and we began to learn more about eachother I shared my thoughts on such matters.

She replied outright that she had a weakness for jewellery.

My honest thought at the time was ‘uh-oh… I hope she’s not high maintenance…’ but it turned out that nothing could be further from the truth – unless that is you count the endless cups of tea required to keep her running smoothly.

What I didn’t realise at the time was that she made a large amount of the jewellery that she wore herself – and what she didn’t construct with her numerous tools and materials was usually purchased frugally from very individual and bespoke suppliers.

I realised very quickly when we became closer that the items she owned were pretty much never made of precious metals or set with rare stones (many are constructed with  things like Lego!) but each and every item reflected her unique personality and tastes.

Tonight, while I’ve been creating this post she created this chain mail bracelet – and it just blows me away that I have such a quirky and inventive little soul next to me whenever I need cheering up.

I can’t just expect her to deliver my good mood whilst I give nothing in return though.

At times this can be hard and I feel like I’ve struggled a bit in the last few weeks. I’ve had to lean into my partner and other people more than I normally would (which is a natural part of life) but this week I finally feel like I’m making headway again.

As I’ve mentioned in my last few blogs my mindset recently has been a carefully cultivated one that’s taken a lot of effort to turn into something that is once again positive.

After burying my head in the metaphorical sand for a while and packing a good few pounds back on in the process I decided that the only way to tackle the issue I’d created was head on.

I needed to work hard, try at all times to be a ‘can do’ person and follow the Slimming World plan, which for me means no longer giving myself free reign to eat like an idiot.

It also means moving my arse more because not doing so has been a big contributor to my weight gain recently.

So in an effort to change I’ve explored all around Warwickshire this week, and in doing so discovered that despite the cold and grim weather there are still many flashes of colour or interest to be found when you’re out and about.

For a start there are mushroom rings everywhere!

I love that there’s always something new to find when you’re out walking. The natural world changes all the time – and the only thing I never seem to find when I’m outside in it is boredom.

It’s not just the natural world that holds joy and interest mind you.

Getting out and about regardless of where you go is good for the soul because there’s life of many different kinds of life to be found everywhere and lots of people to talk to or just watch as they pass by.

On Friday I walked into Coventry Market with a friend and we spent a while combing through the fruit and veg stalls where the variety and quality of produce puts most supermarkets to shame.

Around one third of these items are completely alien to me. I’ve never cooked with them, and I wouldn’t know where to begin in some cases (particularly with the bitter melon) but I love that we live in such a culturally diverse society that all of the Chinese, Indian and English sellers that were in the market have space for their wares and ALL of them seemed to have a bustling, diverse and above all engaged clientele.

There’s life inside that run down looking building that you can’t find in a supermarket.

Within its walls you can interact with, touch, smell, feel and examine items that aren’t everyday objects – or at least they aren’t to me.

In this environment my childhood returns to me – because a greengrocer was (back then) a daily reality in which potatoes were covered in dirt, cucumbers curled like springs and apples were different shapes colours, tastes and sizes.

Fruits and vegetables had bumps, knobbles and imperfections which I loved and shopping back then didn’t require removal of leaves and mud.

You got to see the way that items looked when they’d been pulled out of the ground – without them being sanitised and shoved in clear plastic to put under 24×7 spotlights.

I absolutely love the naturalness of this scruffy little place – and I can’t believe that until six months ago I’d never ever been there before.

If you haven’t visited yourself then leave your car (or bus) at War Memorial Park and take a walk into town (it’s only a mile away – you can do it!). If you have an Ikea Family card then you can also get a free tea or coffee in their nearby cafe.

If you don’t purchase anything you still get a cheap day out and some exercise – which I’ll admit was the main reason for this discovery in the first place.

This brings me neatly onto my next topic – because If you’re not in calorie deficit and moving about as much as possible then you won’t lose weight.

In my Apple Watch stats I haven’t failed to hit all of my daily exercise goals for over two years – but during the last few months I’ve gradually done a little less every day and eaten either the same amount or more.

My life is a pretty fine balance due to my reliance on rather large portion sizes, and I’ve had to accept recently that I simply cannot get away with eating huge volumes of (very good non processed and natural) free food without then immediately burning it off.

The truth is that although my stats look good they have to be viewed with a bit more of an inquisitive eye.

My walking distance is great – and it’s remained constant throughout the year (now I swim as well) at about eight miles a day.

My average swimming distance shows that I do around 50 continuous lengths of the pool each time I swim, meaning I have great stamina. However what it doesn’t show in this average is that last month I went swimming less times in October than since I started in November 2018.

Bad Davey.

The stats that really can’t lie – and highlight the dip in the number of times I’ve swum are my active energy ones (kcal expended through movement above normal ‘just living and breathing’ levels) and my exercise minutes.

Whilst they’re probably higher than a lot of people’s daily burn they have (by my standards) tailed off lately, and in August (shortly after I handed over to the new MOTY) they pretty much said ‘enough of this sh*t – I’m staying on the sofa.’

As you can see in November I’ve begun to address this – and after a slow start to the month I’m once again cooking on gas. Since weighing in last Saturday I’ve managed to walk 80+ miles and swum 7.5km.

After taking a 12lb gain on the chin last weekend I had two choices – sort it out with activity and a positive mindset or deal with it by burying my face in the fridge.

I’ve therefore been very active and very outdoorsy.

I’ve also cooked every large, hearty meal from scratch and prepared the breakfasts, lunches and dinners for myself and my other half each day (I just love cooking for us both) with feeling satisfied and full in mind.

There have been no complaints from her – and looking back at some of the week’s pictures I think you’ll agree we’ve not gone hungry!

It’s fair to say though that in between these shots an awful lot of plums and carrots also died to service our needs to snack between meals.

There were also some more serious transgressions involved though – and on Thursday I hoovered up 200g of sweet popcorn in one very flexible evening that equalled 44 syns. I refuse to feel guily though. I really enjoyed it – and after some epic exercise genuinely felt I deserved a treat.

I felt absolutely zero guilt.

Neither of us has.

We’ve instead had a pact that’s revolved around promising eacother that we’d focus on our individual sabotaging behaviours and do our level best to support eachothers’ success – which we have.

My partner’s weaknesses and mine are quite different – but we’re the same in that (like most people) we fall down in times of stress or worry. Although it’s been tough for both of us to turn things around it’s also been really empowering to take our bulls by their horns and wrestle them to the floor.

This week – thanks to our individual commitments (and efforts with walking and swimming which have been mutually engaged in as much as possible) this has resulted in huge strides.

We both had big losses on the scales this morning and for the first time in a while since I got my new Slimming World book (which frankly looks like a complete mess to me with its gains and losses) I feel really proud of myself.

This morning I smashed out a 9.5lb loss!

Now – I don’t for a minute think that this is sustainable and I’m sure that at least half of this is fluid rather than fat. I know this because I can feel the bloat and swell when I’m not eating right.

If I change my habits then I pee like a racehorse for a day or two and then I’m magically a few pounds lighter. It’s only after the first couple of days that the real weight loss starts. With this in mind I’ve probably lost about 4-5lbs in real terms.

This is still a fabulous weight loss – but I’m not naive enough to think I’ll get this figure regularly.

I’ve been doing this too long now and I know my body.

When Angie asked my how much I wanted to lose by next week my reply was simply ‘a loss’, because to lose lose two weeks in a row with an initial spurt like that is no easy task and I don’t want to set myself up for a fall.

I don’t want to put anything on or maintain – just a loss is enough for me.

So that’s it.

The result of hard work.

Now to do it over and over again every week until I get back to target!!!!

Davey

Got my mojo back baby! OK I will get the obvious out of the way. I'm NOT feeling down. There's not a single fibre of my being that's blue, malcontent, irritable, sad, annoyed, dissatisfied or irascible.

[backfist]

1-104 d:

going to compress this for the people on mobile

1. You woke up naked next to the last person you texted, what would you say?

“how in the world did i end up in texas? also what’s good you hungry?” @littytittymanda

2. What’s going on between you and the last person you kissed?

we haven’t talked too much recently, she’s busy with school as am i

3. If your boyfriend or girlfriend was into drugs, would you care?

depends on the drug, and depends on how it affects them. but i care about them regardless so yes.

4. Is your last name longer than six letters?

way too long yes

5. Was your last kiss drunk or sober?

sober

6. Have you ever wanted to have someone but you messed it up?

too many times

7. What does your last received text say?

“how evil” about this ask, also from @littytittymanda

8. How many times have you kissed the last person you kissed?

a lot actually lol, good hundred or 2 at least

9. Where was your last kiss at?

in a car behind a sushi restaraunt

10. When is the last time you saw your sister?

when im an only child

11. What do you drink in the morning?

hella water, so much water

12. Where did you sleep last night?

in my bed

13. Do you think relationships are hard? 

they dont have to be!

14. If you could go back and change something in the past 5 months, would you?

oh a few things, definitely. school wise, people wise, etc.

15. You’re locked in a room with the last person you kissed, any problems?

not really, we would just talk about life

16. Would you rather it be sunny or rainy?

rain! my favourite!!

17. Do you know anyone with the same middle name as you?

i dont think so? at least off the top of the dome

18. Are you wearing jeans,sweatpants,or pajama pants?

none ;D

19. Do you think you will be in a relationship 3 years from now?

i could see it

20. Does anyone like you?

seems like they do!

21. Have you ever kissed someone with a name that starts with an S?

yes indeed, 2 people

22. Is the last person you kissed gay?

i dont think she is

23. Is there a person you CANNOT stand?

indeed! ugh, i wish it wasnt that way

24. Have you ever considered getting a tattoo?

considered, yes, but unsure about the importance of it later in life

25. In the past week have you cried?

yes once

26. What breed was the last dog you saw?

MY CHIHUAHUA

27. Do you dry off in the shower or out of the shower?

in the shower of course?? why would you do it out?

28. Have you ever kissed a football player?

if you count powderpuff games lmao, but no

29. Do you think you’re old?

not relatively but this is the oldest ive ever been so

30. Do you like text messaging?

yeah, its fun

31. What type of day are you having?

decent is the best word, nothing TOO big

32. Have you ever thought about getting your nose pierced?

no, never!

33. Do you prefer warm or cold weather?

cold over warm is where i like to be, a mild 50 is perfect

34. Is there a person of the opposite sex who means a lot to you?

of course.

35. Would you prefer a relationship or a fling?

right now a fling because why not? but i definitely want a relationship in the future

36. Are you a simple or complicated person?

i would say simple on the outside, but complex at least to myself

37. What song are you listening to?

right now..nothing, but the commentary of the Raptors vs Bucks game

38. When you say you’re sorry do you mean it?

always. i hate being the cause of someone’s pain or anger.

39. Is there a girl that knows everything or almost everything about you?

@say-tonic

40. What made you start liking the person you like now?

i like a lot of people, and they’re all great

41. When did you last receive a text message?

just this instant

42. What is wrong with you right now?

eh who knows

43. How well do you know the last female you texted?

decently? we only started talking a few weeks ago, so not much time but a good time

44. Does anyone disgust you?

LOL yes

45. Would you date someone right now if they asked?

no, not right now

46. Are you in a good mood right now?

id say so yes! (:

47. Who was the last person you talked to in person?

my buddy Chuck from work

48. What color shirt are you wearing?

im...not? there’s a pattern here

49. Has someone recently told you something you didn’t want to hear?

UH yeah, nothing too harsh though

50. Anyone you’re giving up on?

sadly. a friend that has given up on trying to be successful in life.

51. Do you hate the person you fell hardest for?

not at all.

52. Have you ever thought about giving up on someone but couldn’t?

YES YES THIS IS A MISTAKEWEED NEGATIVITY OUT

53. Do you like rain?

UH ITS MY FAV BRING ME THE RAIN DAY AND NIGHT EVERY DAY

54. Do you care if your boyfriend/girlfriend drinks?

not particularly, unless if becomes a problem

55. Have you ever liked somebody and never told them?

AHAHAHA YES YES

56. Do you like to cuddle?

WHO DOESNT ARE YOU SERIOUS

57. Are you shy?

somewhat, more introverted but im a lot more open with people i feel comfortable with

58. Do you get along with girls?

id say so. i feel like i’m a very respectful person overall and that goes a long way

59. Have you dated the person you texted last?

nope lol

60. What do you carry with you at all times?

my phone and wallet and keys

61. If you were paid 1 million dollars to spend the night in a supposed haunted house, would you?

i will spend a month in there give me a flashlight and some food

62. Do you think you can last in a relationship for five months?

i CAN but will i? thats the question

63. Think back to October, were you in a relationship?

no no

64. The person you like kisses you on the forehead, do you find this cute?

hella

65. Did anything “cute” happen in the last week?

not really from what i can remember! oh well lmao

66. How old are the last three people you kissed?

wow 3? gotta think about this one hmm. 

22 / 24 / 22

67. Would you rather pay to get your nails done or do them yourself?    

shoot im paying, need an expert

68. Which do you like better- Zebra print or leopard print?    

both gaudy, but zebra

69. Do you have any stickers on your car?    

i dont have my own car!!!!! :(

70. Would you rather listen to Luke Bryan or Lil Wayne?    

i hate country so by default lil wayne

71. Blackberry, Anroid, or iPhone?    

ANDROID 5000

72. When’s the last time you had pizza from Pizza Hut?    

wow at least like..5/6 years ago. pizza hut is overrated

73. Do you like diet soda?    

bad soda bad yuck

74. What color are the walls in your room?    

beige

75. Are you 16 or older?    

NAH SON IM 11

76. Do you watch Pretty Little Liars?    

watched it once, was decent, dont think id watch again

77. Do you have a job?    

heck yeah! get the money

78. What are your initials?    

J D K

79. Did you ever have braces?    

you said i got gum stuck in them all the time? heck yeah

80. Are you from the south?    

no im from M I C H I G A N

81. What does your last status on facebook say?    

“PC Gamers; what steam games do you reccommend?”

82. Do you still talk to the first person you ever kissed?   

heck yeah! we’re cool (: 

83. Are you closer to your mom or your dad? 

mom 100000 percent   

84. Have you ever done cheerleading or gymnastics?    

gymnastics when i was just a BABY BOY

85. What’s the last movie you saw in theaters?    

oh gosh uh..that would have to have been..not the current one, but the last Fast and Furious movie

86. Do you smoke?    

not about it!

87. Would you rather wear heels or flip flops?    

FLIP MY FLOP

88. Is your phone touch screen?    

HECK YEAH I LOV IT

89. Do you normally wear your hair straight or curly?    

straight because it’s so damn shorty

90. Have you ever snuck out of your house?    

almost impossible, i live on the second floor

91. Would you rather swim in a river, lake, or pool?    

POOLNEVER IN LAKE OR RIVERS I CANT NOPE

92. Have you ever made out in a car?    

you betcha, it was pretty great

93. …Had sex in a car?    

lol haven’t had sex

94. Are you single or in a relationship?    

single 

95. What were you doing last night at midnight?    

talking to a friend and on here DUH

96. When’s the last time you saw fireworks?    

4th of july last year i think

97. Do you like the camera on your phone?    

its pretty good! i take too many selfies to end up deleting them

98. Have you ever had a friend with benefits?    

kind of, yeah. an ex that was a best friend that becamne that, and then back to being good friends

99. Have you ever passed out from drinking?    

LMAO no i’ve only drank twice

100. Are you friends with people on facebook that you actually hate?    

i dont think so? that’s pointless

101. Have you ever had a pregnancy scare?   

L M A O NOPE I WOULDNT KNOW WHAT TO DO 

102. Name your favorite Kesha song:    

the acoustic version of Die Young

103. Do you have any tan lines right now?

hasn’t been sunny enough so no!    

104. Would you ever wear cowboy boots with shorts?

LMAO WHY NOT CALL ME THE SHERIFF