ngl it bums me out how fast everyone hopped off masks not just for covid/communicable diseases but just the concept of revisiting personal safety equipment in general.

long post i guess

I've been taking a 5 week pottery workshop on wheel throwing (it's neat!) and we got up to glazing last week. When you glaze pots, the glaze starts as a a thick liquid and then dries really quick into a powdery form (on your clay piece). I was asking my instructor about clean up and she was like "oh you can just rub off the excess carefully, but try not to get dust in the air as it's a little toxic. obviously you're wearing a mask but the rest of us aren't"

(my partner and i wear masks b/c it's inside and that's just what we still do. it sucks but it's better than covid and also now inhaling dust/fumes)

I kinda wanted to respond "maybe we should all be wearing masks??" like if not for covid concerns, at least for the semi-toxic powder we're all just handling/some folks are breathing in O.O

(i didn't b/c tbh i'm still a little on edge with the going out/doing stuff in public thing/esp indoors and people misgender me/mispronounce my name constantly and honestly sometimes you just want to do ceramics and not fight with people. it also just didn't feel winnable)

I feel like there's so many things like that that people just disregard as a risk that don't need to be, but as a society (US at least), we just never wanted to have that conversation (it was at best, begrudging, at the height of government awareness of covid and now it's completely gone by the wayside). At this point people either respond negatively or aggressively to any suggestion of it.

But like we've all had that one art teacher/professor who was a little bit off b/c they'd just been inhaling toxic paint fumes their whole career and it was always written off as just a quirk/part of the job (maybe things are better now? new art students feel free to chime in) and not something that could have been mitigated.

idk, it just makes me sad that we never got to even have the conversation about how so many jobs/hobbies should use more personal safety equipment than they do (either b/c people feel inconvenienced by it or don't know).

(tangent but i remain appalled at how many people i see riding bikes/etc around here that don't wear helmets! it's fucking wild to me, like we had the "wear a helmet or your head will be shattered like an egg" demonstrations as early as elementary school in massachusetts. Like it's just silly not to, and yet so many people in cali are like "a helmet? i don't know her". Also adults will agree that children should, but they shouldnt?!? wear a helmet for biking/skating/etc is the hill i will die on, esp on pavement)

adj.: 1. Modern, unfamiliar, or different

2. Not based on or conforming to what is generally done or believed

pairing: reader x ot7

genre: college au; angst, fluff, smut, poly, ot7

Summary: You begin your first year at a prestigious university, set out on achieving your academic goals when a series of men step into your life that change the way you view the definition of love.

Part Six

Warnings: none

Word count: 2.3k

The next day, you purposely run a little later than you normally would. You don’t know if you could endure another session of Taehyung being an actual menace at 9 o’clock in the morning. So, you take extra time to add some light makeup and pick out a pink checkered dress with a cream cardigan, and step out feeling cute, caffeinated, thanks to your morning coffee, and ready to tackle Calculus.

As you walk into the mostly full classroom, you naturally head to the spot you’ve stayed the last couple classes. This time however, you keep an eye out for Seokjin. Spotting him on the far side of the room, you send him a quick smile. Once he sees, he’s quick to send you one back with a nod.

He seems like a bit of a loner, you notice, with all of the other students engaged in hushed conversations around him, but with him seemingly content to lean on his head on his hand and stare off until class starts. He is strikingly handsome in a classical way that’s impossible to deny, which you suppose is intimidating. Coupled with him also being an older student in the class, it seems he creates a bubble around him that he himself is oblivious to.

You make eye contact with Hoseok as you head to your seat, to which he gives you a large toothy smile and a cute wave. You couldn’t hold the smile off of your own face if you tried, so you gave him a beaming grin with your own wave to accompany it.

Two seats behind Hoseok was the before-mentioned menace. His smile towards you was significantly less innocent. He was leaning back in his chair, legs stretched out far enough to be underneath your own seat, with his arms crossed. He seemed to be saying, “I’m too cool to be here.” After doing a judgmental scan of his posture, you raise an eyebrow and take your seat, and set your back firmly to him in hopes he���d get the message you didn’t want to be messed with today.

By some stroke of luck, your professor walks in almost immediately after your butt hits the seat. Pulling out your notebook, you steel yourself for the next hour of lecture in which you were refusing to let yourself get distracted. Even if Hoseok offered to study with you, you didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of him by being clueless and then being a complete dead weight.

----

After another grueling class, you have to admit your fears about being dead weight feel closer to reality than what you’d want. In hindsight, you were really glad you took Hoseok’s offer to study. Well, if you were being honest with yourself, there was no way you’d turn that down even if you were a complete master at calculus. Hoseok is so bright and charming, and you feel drawn to him in the way flowers face the sun. He had such a happy and kind energy, that you have no doubt makes people from all walks of life love him.

Regardless of the boy’s personality, you are thankful for the fact that you had someone willing to help you with your least favorite subject. You need it.

You stand, and Hoseok soon follows. He turns to both you and Taehyung, “Are you both still good to study tonight? I know I need a review!” He lets out a laugh.

Taehyung answers before you get the chance. “Yeah, me too. Cafe Persona, right?”

You were a little surprised at his serious attitude. You hadn’t seen him act like he cared about anything, including his calculus grade, in the short time you’ve known him.

“Yep! Does that work? Y/n, are you still free tonight?” Hoseok answers, now looking at you expectantly.

“Oh! Uh, yeah, that works!”

“Great! Does seven sound okay?” Hoseok looks between you and Taehyung, causing you to glance at the other boy too. Taehyung was leaning with his hip to the edge of the chair, and ankles crossed with a straight look on his face. He balances relaxed and focused, and you can’t help but be intrigued by his attitude shift. He almost seemed like a different person from yesterday.

“Yep!”

“That works.”

You and Taehyung answer at the same time, causing Hoseok to grin at both of you. “Great! See you guys then!” Hoseok waves at you both before making his way out of the classroom, leaving you and Taehyung alone.

You give him an apprehensive look, waiting for him to say something flirty. Seeing the look, he gives you an understanding smile, seemingly not in the mood to mess with you. Slightly relieved, but honestly a little worried for him, you grab your back and go to leave. You pause, and look over your shoulder.

“Hey, are you okay?” You surprise yourself as you speak. He has managed to worm himself into your heart at least slightly, it appears.

He looks up from his bent over position and gives you a small look of surprise, apparently just as bewildered by your words as you. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just didn’t sleep well after working on a project last night,” he explains.

You tilt your head to the side, now curious. You’ve never really thought about his life --- his major, year, anything. “What is the project for?” you ask.

“A sculpture class. It fulfills a requirement for art history majors.”

You aren’t going to lie, him being artistic and into history made you more attracted to him. That major fit him well, from what you have seen. He dresses in baggy clothes, usually in neutral palettes, and instead of him looking messy, he makes everything he wears look sophisticated in a way that not many people are able to do.

You say with complete honesty, “That’s actually really cool. It makes sense for you.”

Now standing, he gives you a genuine smile. “Thanks, I really enjoy it. What about you, then?”

You divert your eyes, not wanting to admit you hadn’t chosen yet. “I actually am undecided…” you admit.

“Ah, well, life is long. You’ll figure it out. You’re smart.” His eyes hold yours as you speak, shining with sincerity.

You couldn’t help the blood rushing to your cheeks. You could tell that he really meant what he had said, not just saying it to be polite.

“Thank you, Taehyung… I hope you're right.” You glance down to your phone, breaking eye contact. It was a bit too intense for you. When you saw the time, you nearly jumped. You were close to being late for your next class.

“I’m running late, I’ll see you later!” you call over your shoulder, already hustling to leave the room. You hear him call out a bye as you leave, and feel his eyes following you until you get out of sight. He definitely left you with more complicated feelings towards him than what you had anticipated. But, that’s to think about another time --- you need to haul ass to get to Intro to Comp.

You make your way across campus surprisingly fast, dodging dozens of students who seemed to be less rushed than you. Nearly winded, you arrive just as the clock reaches the hour and the professor seems ready to begin. Embarrassed at the eyes on you as you walk in, you make your way to Jimin who you see sitting near the back as fast as you can without looking strange. You knew your face was red from the exertion and the embarrassment.

He laughed at your predicament as soon as you got close, and cleared the stuff of the seat he was saving for you.

“Shut up!” you whisper yell at him, but a smile breaks out on your face at his wide smile that showcased a just slightly crooked tooth. His eyes disappeared into crescent shapes at the force of his full cheeks lifting.

Once he calms down, and the lecture begins in relative peace, he leans over to you to speak without being overheard. “The LA was staring at you when you walked in, you know? His eyes never left you until you sat down.” He gives a conspiratorial grin.

“What? No way.” You give him an incredulous look. The LA seemed broadly disinterested --- disinterested in the class, disinterested in people, disinterested in you.

“I only noticed because I was watching him before you walked in,” Jimin admits with a giggle.

“He probably was just looking at me since I came in late, that’s all,” you justified.

Jimin raises a brow at you. “I guess we’ll see then, won’t we.” His eyes travel down the length of your torso and back up again, before giving you a smirk.

“Oh God. Whatever you are thinking, please don’t,” you whine.

He just widens his grin in response. Between Taehyung and Jimin, you felt that you’ve reached your mischief quota for the year already. You let your eyes slide shut and groan quietly.

----

“Come on y/n, don’t worry. I just have to ask him a question!” Jimin giggles, failing to hide his evil intentions. He wants to drag you up to have a quick chat with your broody LA, currently standing idle at the front of the room, watching the students filter out of the lecture hall.

“Sunbae if you do something embarrassing you owe me a drink,” you groan out. “Please, please be normal.”

“Don’t worry,” he draws out with a smile. A villainous smile, may you add. And with that, he drags you down the rows of chairs to the front of the room, stopping just short of Yoongi.

You hover slightly behind Jimin’s shoulder, wanting to leave but not wanting to abandon your friend. Yoongi looks back and forth between you and Jimin, and settles back on you, making you bristle slightly. It didn’t help that he had a delicate frown marring his features.

Jimin’s cheery voice quickly penetrates the awkward silence. “Hi, Yoongi right? My name’s Jimin! I was wondering if for the first project, we had to have a bridge structure? Or if we could use a double chorus maybe? Doctor Choi didn’t specify in class today.”

Yoongi narrowed his eyes at Jimin. “For the first project, use the traditional structure. Choi will grade you harsher if he thinks you’re a try-hard,” he gruffly answers.

“Hm, I see. I can be a bit overzealous at times, when I’m interested in something,” Jimin replies, this time in a much lower pitch. You watch his eyes roam Yoongi’s figure as he speaks, not bothering to disguise his interest.

“Can’t we all.” Yoongi’s voice is somehow even gruffer than before. And this time, he is staring straight at you as he replies.

Jimin notices, and gives a knowing smirk your direction. “Thanks Yoongi, see you next class!” Jimin sing-songs with a smile. He grabs your wrist, leading you out of the auditorium.

It’s a good thing he does, because your brain was short-circuiting after that interaction. You feel like a deer in the headlights, and nearly stumble as you try to keep pace with Jimin.

As soon as you walk out of the building, Jimin lets out a cackle, bending over from it’s force. “I told you! He definitely thinks you're hot, I mean, did you see the way he was looking at you? He looked like he wanted to eat you right there and then!” He lets out another loud laugh at his words.

You could feel your cheeks flaming. “Ugh, what the hell was that! Why’d you even say that to him! YOU were the one trying to eat HIM!” you yell slightly, waving your arms like a crazy person.

His laughter only gets louder at your response. “I wanted to test a theory! While I wish I was wrong and he wanted a piece of me, he only had eyes for you, darling.” His laughter died down slightly. “You look really pretty today, I don’t blame him,” he adds. His gaze turns slightly wistful, but it only lasts a second before he skips over to you and links your arms.

“That’s no reason to do all of that! You’re so embarrassing, sunbae!” You look up at him, giving him your best pout.

He pulls you closer, forcing your face to rest against his shoulder slightly. “Ah, the hot LA thinks you're cute! This is a win, my dear.” He gives a smirk down at you.

“I don’t know if that’s it. He seems kind of mean… maybe he’s just socially awkward or something,” you guess.

Jimin tilts his head, and says, “Maybe. Either way I know I had fun, your blush is too cute.” He gives you another mischievous grin.

You roll your eyes, and reach in your bag to check your phone. You needed to get some work done before your meeting with Hoseok and Taehyung.

Seeing the time, you quickly unlink your arms from Jimin’s and go to say goodbye. You want to have enough time to run though some practice problems before you go later, and you knew it was going to take you a while. It seems the time was causing you to have to cut all your conversations short today, unfortunately.

“Bye sunbae, I have to go. Oh, and you owe me a drink!” you declare.

He gives you a pout of his own at your leaving, but is quick to transform into a wide grin at your reminder.

“This weekend!” he calls as you start backing up. You roll your eyes in response, and turn around to walk in the direction of your apartment. It was time to grind out some work, and not think of the weird interactions with boys that had happened today.

Amorphous (Bichie) (2/?)

Summary : Modern AU. YouTuber!Richie. YouTuber!Bill. Richie Tozier fucked up big time. After a drunken night of having fun, his name is being slandered this way and that. However, and angel appears to sweep the Trashmouth off his feet. Bill Denbrough loves making speed arts of his favorite people on YouTube, and just so happens to be a huge fan of one Richie Tozier.

Pairings : Eventual Bichie

Warnings : Some cussing, cute shit? Nothing really bad in this one

AN : This fic is meant for those over the age of 18. If you are under the age, please turn back now. I will not be keeping a tag list for this one, because I’m not going to tag anyone underaged. This will be full of smut, so be fair warned. Keep in mind that all of the characters are 21+ at this time. The characters in no way have any relation to the child actors that have portrayed them. IT does not belong to me, however if it had I would’ve changed a lot of things in the book.

Chapter 1 | 2

Chapter 2

Word Count: 1969

Should he message him first? What the hell would he even say? Should he say hi? Should he tell him he loves his music? Should he just wait for Richie to message him?

That seemed like a better idea.

If Richie wanted to message him he would.

Bill nodded to himself, and went back to his speed draw, feeling a bit silly because now he would have to edit that whole blank part out, and who knows how long he had been sitting there. His cheeks were flushing, but it wasn’t like anyone was there to see him.

“Bill, c’mon dude, wake up.”

“R-richie?”

“Not likely.”

The deadpanned voice brought him from his dreams, and Bill sat up from his desk. He stretched his long limbs out as far as they would reach, a soft yawn reaching his lips as he looked up at one of his room mates.

“What’s up?” Bill finally asked, standing from his desk. His back was stiff. He’d fallen asleep while working on a paper for class, and it was obvious he should probably get in bed.

“I’m getting you up for class. It’s time to go, man. Brush your teeth, put on some clothes. Mike is waiting in the car, so hurry.”

Stan’s words jolted through him, and he looked at the clock. A groan crawled up his throat and he moved to the bathroom to make himself presentable for the day. Within fifteen minutes, Bill was dressed, his hair was fixed, and his mouth minty fresh. He slung his bag over his shoulder and grabbed his long board before heading out of the apartment and down the stairs to Stan’s car.

Bill slid in the back and took the offered banana from Mike. “Thanks.” He grinned widely.

“Don’t worry about it Bill. We know you probably had a long night.” Mike snickers.

“Wha’?” Bill asked, through a mouthful of the fruit.

“Your twitter kind of exploded last night. Can’t believe you didn’t notice. That Trashmouth dude tweeted you. Or should I say your future husband?” Stan’s voice came from the driver's seat

“Wha-?” Bill choked this time from shock.

Mike passed a water bottle back to Bill, who accepted it and took a generous drink.

He coughed a few times, and cleared his throat. “Tozier tweeted me?” Bill asked, just to be sure.

“Yes, dude. The guy you’ve been totally in love with since Freshman year tweeted you.” Mike rolled his eyes.

“Lay off, you guys.” Bill scoffed.

He was excited, but to deviate away from the teasing he didn’t pull his phone out of his pocket to check, even though it felt like it was burning a hole in his khakis.

Bill finished his banana, and they made it to the school within minutes. The three of them said their goodbyes and went in separate directions.

Bill barely made it to class on time, but he had a few minutes to spare. He placed his long board near the door and took his seat. He pulled his phone out, his heart in his throat as he read all of the tweets.

@tmtozierecs: if you haven’t checked out @billiamdraws speed art of me yet, do it!

There were a plethora of tweets in response, saying that they loved it, or that they were already fans of Bills, things like that. Of course, there were a select few that weren’t very nice, but a lot of people seemed to have his back.

His DM box had a few messages in it, and he opened it. His eyes almost bulged from his head when he noticed that most of them were from Tozier himself.

tmtozierecs: hey, billy boy!

tmtozierecs: awh, too busy for me? :(

tmtozierecs: oh shit maybe ur asleep

tmtozierecs: no idea time zones n shit

tmtozierecs: well youd better answer me when you get up

tmtozierecs: ill be waiting

Bill snorted to himself. Even over text, the boy seemed to be off the wall. He was obviously a little crazy. All of the messages had been pretty close together, which sort of made him feel bad, but he had been asleep.

billiamdraws: hey dude!

billiamdraws: i was asleep

billiamdraws: not everyone is as successful as you and can live the rockstar life

billiamdraws: some of us have to go to college

He hoped that came off as teasing as he had meant it to be, really. His heart was pounding wildly because he had no fucking idea what he was doing. He was low key flirting because he knew the other had a girlfriend, but he didn’t really know how to flirt in the first place, so it’s not like it mattered much.

He stored his phone away just as the professor walked in to start their lesson. Today they were working on abstract arts.

Richie woke up to his phone buzzing, and he rolled over. The guitar pick around his neck was cold pressed between his bare chest and the mattress. He blindly groped for his phone, and picked it up. He pulled it close to his face, squinting, before answering.

“What’s up, Miss Marsh?” Richie’s voice was thick with sleep as he rubbed his eyes with his free hand.

“Things are looking better already, Rich. You’re doin’ good.” Her bright voice came through the phone.

Richie grinned softly. “Come on over later and we can smoke then, yeah? You guys are supposed to be relaxing, not worrying about PR.” He rolled back over onto his back as the body next to him shifted to curl into his side.

“We’re always worrying about PR when it comes to you, Rich. You just can’t keep your mouth shut. But yeah, I’ll be over in a few hours. Love you, babe!”

“Love you too, baby.” Richie hung up and dropped his phone back on his bedside table, before pressing a soft kiss to his girlfriend's head.

“I told you I don’t like it when you call others baby.” Her voice came muffled from his side, “Especially when it’s Beverly.”

Richie withheld the urge to roll his eyes, and smoothed her hair back, “And I’ve told you it’s innocent. I’ve known Bev since I was like ten. If I wanted to be dating her I would have done so a long time ago.”

Olivia huffed against his skin, and scooted up to be closer to his face, “I know, but she’s just so pretty..I can’t help but worry.” She tells him, pressing her face into his neck.

Richie brushes his fingers down her back. “You have nothing to worry about, baby. You’re gorgeous, okay?” He presses another kiss to her forehead, and reaches over to grab his phone again to look at the time.

“Don’t you have a conference today?” He asks, squinting.

“Yeah, at one.”

Richie chuckled a bit, “Did you bring your stuff to get ready here? Because you’d better start now.”

She smacked his side. “I know you think I take forever to get ready but I totally don't!”

“It’s almost ten. It takes you an hour to do your hair, and two to do your makeup. I know you better than you think I do.” He shifts around to press a kiss to her lips.

She giggled very softly into the kiss. “Okay, let’s go shower then, big boy.” She nips at his bottom lip and moves to get out of the bed.

Richie shakes his head, but moves to get out of bed. He pulls his glasses on so he can see better, only to notice the notifications on his phone. “Go ahead and start it, babe. I’ll be there in a minute.”

He scrolls through his notifications on twitter, grinning at a few posts, before he moves over to his DM’s. The one that caught his eye was Billiams. He opened it. A chuckle left his lips from the boy’s words.

tmtozierecs: are you trying to flatter me, billiam?

tmtozierecs: because its working (;

tmtozierecs: i really just wanted to thank you for the video you posted

tmtozierecs: you sort of saved my ass in a lot of different ways

Richie put his phone down and hopped away to join his girlfriend in his shower.

Bill felt his phone buzz about ten minutes later, but did his best to ignore it. Mostly because he was painting and didn’t want to ruin it, but also because his professor would literally kick you out of class if you had your phone out while doing an assignment...unless you needed it for a reference picture. Which this assignment didn’t need a reference picture, otherwise he could totally get away with it.

It buzzed a few more times in his pocket, and he knew it had to be Richie. Stan and Mike never texted him multiple times, and if there was an emergency they would call him. They were pretty much the only two people he talked too. Once a night, he talked to his little brother Georgie, and few and far between were phone calls with his parents. He didn’t mind it. He missed Georgie more than he did them anyways.

His phone buzzed one last time, and went still in his pocket. He was thankful for that, because he needed to focus on his painting.

After class was over, Bill placed his easel with the others in the corner to dry, and grabbed his long board to head to his next class. He zoomed past people easily, weaving in and out of the crowd as he skated all the way across campus for an advanced English class. Bill was double majoring in visual arts and creative writing. He hoped one day to write his own book and illustrate it. Who knew what kind of book it would be at this point, but that was his dream.

Upon entering his classroom, he left his long board near the door again and found a seat. His fingers dug into his pocket for his phone and he pulled it out, an ear-splitting grin falling onto his features.

billiamdraws: definitely trying to flatter u!

billiamdraws: ive only been a fan forever

billiamdraws: i probably should have kept that to myself…

billiamdraws: anyways, its no problem really

billiamdraws: it was kind of ridiculous the amount of hate you were getting

billiamdraws: i was just trying to soften the blow

His cheeks were a little red from admitting that he was a fan of Richie, but he was sure it was obvious. He shook his head a bit and put his phone down to pull out his supplies for class.

“So, how’s it going?” Stan’s teasing voice came from next to him, as the other male dropped into the chair. “With Richie, I mean.” The smirk was more than evident on his face.

“Why are you in here? This isn’t your class.” Bill huffed, ignoring the questions all together.

“I just thought I’d drop by. I still got ten minutes, and my class is next door...so spill, gay boy.” Stan pushed his arm.

“I’m not gay, Stan. I’m pansexual.” Bill rolled his eyes, thoroughly irritated with the boy.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. So, spill.”

Bill rubbed his forehead and turned to look at his friend. “It’s fine. He’s being nice, I’m being nice. He has a girlfriend, so it’s not like that.” Bill chews on the inside of his cheek. “I don’t want to be seen as the guy who wrecked YouTube’s cutest couple anyways.” He scratched awkwardly at his neck.

Stan scoffed, “As if Richie and Olivia are YouTube’s cutest couple. Everyone knows that’s David and Liza. Don’t fret so much. I’m just teasing you anyways.” Stan reaches up to ruffle Bill’s hair. “I’ll catch you at lunch, lover boy.” He grins and stands, “And play nice, alright?”

“Yeah...alright.”

JENNIE X READER

I’ve written this first chapter almost a month ago. I’ve published it on differents facfictions’ websites. I hope you’ll like it. BTW, I accept requests! Feel free. This is the first of 11 chapters. This is kind of a novel and I’m already working on the second part of it. I’m not a native English speaker, I apologize if there are some mistakes.

Summary: You’re a college student. Jennie is your English professor, the woman about who you’ve been fantasizing the most during your senior college. Sometimes dreams really come true. (BTW, it’s pretty explicit).

Being alone is such a weird experience. You can think of millions of things and, in a certain way, they will make you happy or cry, for no reason because all of you’ve been thinking of were things that has never and will never happen. College is one of the periods in your life in which you think the most about unrealistic things, alone or not, and college’s classes are the best ones to do it. When you’re used to study at home and before every single class it doesn’t really matter if you participate in class or just fall asleep on your cold and rigid textbook.

Yet, there’s one subject that actually you do enjoy: English literature. But you don’t really like it because you love reading, even though you love doing it, the reason behind why you do fancy that 2 hours class it’s because of the teacher, Professor Kim.

Her petite height, pale and soft skin, amazing hair that today is in a ponytail… yup it’s easy to be a creep when it comes to that incredible woman. Right now she’s talking about some writers from New Zealand that you need to read for your next exam… You think that she also mentioned the fact that you need to write an essay about New Zealand writers, but you don’t really know… You’re really not paying attention, you’re just looking the way she articulates words by looking at her lips, imagining how her tongue sometimes slips out between her lips. They must be soft for sure and must taste incredibly well… and then there here is, a smile. Today her outfit it’s pretty provocative. A light blues dress, with some details on and a nice pair of black heels.

Now, you look at the digital clock that is right above the whiteboard “5:25 pm, Thursday” almost time to go home, some people might think. But not you, you’ll go to the library to study as much as you can, go to the college residence in which you’ve been living for the past 3 years, change, go for a run, and then comeback “home” and sleep. You’ve been doing this for the past 3 years, you’re used to it. Friends? Let’s say that classmates is a better word to associate them. But you’re happy, you can do whatever you want to do… Even thought, some company wouldn’t be bad.

5 minutes left of class and yet, everyone is starting to close their books, open their backpacks… While you’re still on your chair with your arms crossed, back  on the back of the chair, paying attention to the class, or that’s what you think you’re doing… You know that Professor Kim might be the only reason that you don’t actually skip class, or leave early. So, that’s why you never get up of your chair until Professor Kim says “Class over guys…” and then add things like “don’t do drugs” or “don’t drink too much unless is water”…  You hate and love to hear that, hate it because it’s going to be another week until you’ll be able to stare at her without being considered a creep, and love it because DAMN! That weird English accent of hers it’s sexy af.

Someone is calling you from behind but you don’t turn your face, Professor Kim is more interesting to look at. That someone starts to kick your seat… After 10 seconds you finally decides to turn around and here it is… Chicken, real name? Jisoo. That girl though… She’s nice and extremely funny but sometimes can be very obnoxious too, like in this case. She whispers “… Y/N take this”, and you as a fool grab the little piece of paper that she throws at you. She starts giggling. You look up to see if Professor Kim is looking at you, but she started to write things on the whiteboard. So, you proceed to open the secret piece of paper… You’re not surprise by what you see.

Of course that you’re not the only one who has that type of thoughts towards Mrs. Kim. You watch your classmates, or some of them, biting their lips while looking at her… Or writing on pieces of papers the things that they would do to her, like in this case… Some of these papers actually appears sometimes on your desk and the only thing that you do is reading them or looking at the drawing that the most “artistic people” in your class can actually do, things that you would actually would do to her but you don’t need to tell anyone, so you just put these pieces of paper inside a page of your book or throw it after the class is over.

This time you find just some words like “bang her”, “kiss her”, “hard”, “taste”, “bite her lips”, “and slap her” and “thongs or nothing?”  Surrounding Professor Kim name written right in the middle. You’re surprise that your classmates can’t even do a graphic but in this case everything is so clear, some have used some kind of colors to highlight the word “bang her” several times, if only they would put more effort on their studies as they do with every “gossip” paper you’ve come through... You’re going to throw this paper for sure.  

You look up again at the clock “5:32 pm”, Professor Kim is looking at her students and she seems to realize that almost no one has their books on their desks… She look at the clock and says the words that are so obnoxious for you to hear “Ok guys, CLASS IS OVER. Go home and don’t forget to give water to your plants at night because if you do it in the morning they’ll burn because of the sun”… Ok, that was the longest “senseless” thing that she has ever add. You think that she’s running out of short ideas or it’s just because she’s an English literature professor and she would say things twice as long for her own pleasure. 

Anyway, you grab your books put them inside you bag the same goes as well for pen, pencils, your phone… don’t even caring about the mess that you’re making inside your own backpack, and you’re ready to leave the classroom. While you’re walking through the row of desk that are on both sides, you’re being part of the queue that you need to respect in order to get out of that class, yet you still keep an eye on Professor Kim. 

She waved at few students and then started to clean the whiteboard, took some markers and put them inside her black Gucci purse. She even let her hair free and gosh, God only knows how gorgeous that woman can be by simply letting her hair laying on her back, shoulder…. and breasts. When you’re passing by Professor Kim desk in which she’s sitting on, you throw the paper inside the little trash can, and you just say “Goodbye Professor Kim” and she with a bright smile says “Goodbye Mrs. L/N” and wink… Yes a wink, you think you’ve never seen her winking…She might have not even winked at you, stupid imagination.

Out of class, it’s time to do some homework. At least the university library is inside the campus, so you just need to walk through the college park that is surrounded by the 5 buildings that form the university and that’s it. At least today didn’t rain and even though it’s almost 6 there’s still light. Walking through that park is an awesome experience, flowers almost everywhere, every kind of tree with flowers or fruits on. Even though the path is cement, it doesn’t ruin the beauty and quality of it.

 Finally you made it into the library, and you sit as far as you can from other students, you always chose the European literature section. The best thing about it is that this area in particular looks like a labyrinth made of old books, probably first editions, and cherry wood. If you didn’t know that well that space, you would probably get lost. You sit on a two seat desk, take your computer out from your backpack and some pens fall from your sack, you try to collect them, it seems that there’s nothing on the floor now, put your computer in front of you, you turn it on and you start doing your research about New Zealand writers. You plug your headphones on your laptop and start that R&B playlist that you keep updating. Listening to music is an activity that you really enjoy doing while studying.

 One hour has passed by. Your essay is almost finished, just the introduction and conclusion are missing… You lay back on your seat, move your head a little bit and close your eyes, letting the song that is right now playing try to heal your heart, your soul. Again, being alone sometimes gives you the right amount of peacefulness that every human being should have. You start thinking about life, homework, parents and how much you love cereal. You don’t know how your thoughts go from serious stuff to how much you love eating cereal.

 Your left shoulder is getting pretty warm now, “they must have turn off the air conditioner” you think. Your eyes still close and now that warm feeling is gone and has been substituted by a gentle tipping. “Okay, that cannot be the air conditioner… You must be sick or yesterday run started to hit you right now… Life” you think, but when you open your eyes and turn your gaze to your shoulder you look at this finger that is actually tipping the area… You get your gaze a little bit higher and a familiar face is the owner of that hand. It’s your classmate Rosé. In three years you don’t know how and why she got so pretty, those eyes that always are expressing happiness, her smile that is really bright and full of sincerity, her cute laugh that in inappropriate moments starts (like during tests) but the best thing is her voice, sweet. Seriously, you think that she might be the only person in this word whose beauty is right. Beautiful inside and outside.

 “Hey Y/N?” she takes off your left earphone, “… that’s why you wouldn’t answer me” she said with a smile. You’re still kind of shocked by how she knew you would have been there, what the heck? -  “Oh.. Yes, sure… Tell me, do you need any help Rosé?”. “Well, actually yes but I’m not sure..” she says. “So you think you need my help? Just tell me and I’ll see if I can help you…”. This conversation is awkward, Rosé has never asked you before to help her with anything. She’s one of the top students in your class. “Okay, Y/N in today class I just fell asleep, being part of the cheerleading team lately has been exhausting! We have a competition next week and sleeping is not involved! I didn’t even had the time to read something before class, well I actually have read something but was about this new Nintendo console and gosh! You have to see it!” and she kept talking and talking…

So you just stop her from saying another word. “Ok, forgetting about cheerleading and that toy for grown up kids…” she immediately interrupts you “A toy for grown up kids?! IT’S A NINTENDO IT NEVER GETS OLD, you just don’t understand, troll”. She just called you troll? What the f... 

“Ok, whatever, you need help with what?”. She takes your backpack that was on the seat next to you, puts it on the floor, sits and looks at you. “I need you to help me with English literature. I don’t like that subject and I don’t even like Professor Kim… I’ve been extremely busy as I’ve just told you and I was wondering if we can study together because reading has never being my thing, I prefer talking you know? Conversing about the subject itself, for me it would be easier to write my essays and study in general.. I don’t know? Would you help me?.” Now she’s holding her hands together like praying but in this case begging for your help… That she love talking is pretty obvious, at least she’s not asking you to do her “homework” and she’s nice to look at “here it comes again the pervert inside you Y/N” you say to yourself laughing a little bit. “Why are you laughing?! Are you laughing at me?!” she said while slapping your arm. “No, I was just thinking... Don’t worry, you can count on me.”

“I knew that you were nice! Also a little company won’t hurt you. Right? You’re always alone” she says with a comforting smile. “I guess so...” you reply. “…Uh. Ok, now I should go, you know cheerleading stuff, bye!” she jumps from the seat and disappears. That was weird how she got here without even getting lost, how she knew you would be there, the things she said. Life. 

You look at your computer clock “7:23pm” “it’s time to go!” you think. You put everything inside you backpack, disorganized as always, go outside the building, come back to your residence, get change and here you are running outside the campus. The city is wonderful at night, and running next to the river is a plus. It has a really movie feeling. The river that acts like a mirror and reflects every single light of the night. After one hour and a half, it’s time to come back home, you buy some instant ramen in a supermarket that is close to the university, run to your residence, get a shower while the water boils, and then it’s time to eat, watch some television and sleep.

To be continued...

@thatgirlnevershutsup​ tagged me so here we go: Rules: List the first five* lines of your last 20 stories (or however many you have altogether. WIPs count). See if there are any patterns. *or so 1. and gravity, scientists say, is weak (Star Wars, Anakin & Obi-Wan [Obi-Wan/Satine]) Before he heads to Padmé's apartment, Anakin stops off at the quarters he still nominally shares with Obi-Wan and Ahsoka to change into clean clothes. Normally, he wouldn't bother, but Padmé doesn't like it when he gets engine grease on her furniture and he's currently covered in the stuff. When he opens the door, he's surprised to find Obi-Wan sitting at the table with a bottle of Tevraki whiskey in front of him and a mostly empty glass in his hand. "I thought you'd be out on the town with your duchess girlfriend," Anakin says, teasing. "She's not my--" Obi-Wan stops and sighs, rubbing his forehead with his free hand. 2. Everything That Rises Must Converge (Star Wars, Obi-Wan, Leia, Luke, Vader) Ben woke from a nightmare, one he hadn't had in years, of Anakin burning on the bank of a river of fire, calling out to him for help. He felt chilled to his bones, cold sweat drying on his skin. It was not yet dawn, but he knew he wouldn't be getting anymore sleep that day. Perhaps not for a few days to come, if he was going to be plagued by old nightmares. The Force was shifting, unsettled, around him, unnerving after his nightmares.

This gets long so the rest goes behind a cut:

3. if you find yourself lost, dig (Star Wars, Rey & Leia) Rey let herself get lulled into a false sense of security. The mission itself had seemed simple enough. "Fly me to these coordinates," the General had said, and so Rey had strapped herself into the pilot's seat of the Millennium Falcon and flown. "Stand there and look intimidating," the General had said. So Rey had stood just behind her with her face set in a blank mask and a hand on the hilt of her lightsaber while the General negotiated for the use of an old Rebellion base on Cardooine with the queen of the planet. 4. No Exit (Star Wars, Darth Vader/Ahsoka Tano) Darth Vader sat in silence as medical droids buzzed around him, repairing his life support system and replacing his damaged helmet. I won't leave you. Not this time. Ahsoka's words rang in his memory, tearing open scars he'd thought long since healed over. She was dead, or she would be soon. It should have been pleasing. 5. If You Wear That Velvet Dress (Push, Nick/Cassie) The shop is packed with uncomfortable-looking furniture and racks of clothing. It smells of steam heat, damp wool coats, and desperation. They fit right in, Nick thinks as he shoves through rack after rack of women's clothes before finding the men's section. "I'm not gonna find a tux at Goodwill," he says.
 Cassie glances over from where she's fondling a leather jacket. "Not at this Goodwill anyway," she agrees, surprising him. 6. The Extraterrestrial Elf Emergency (The Middleman, Wendy & the Middleman) "And there were no signs of any disturbance?" the Middleman asked. "Other than the fact that someone did that to my doghouse?" the witness--a local homeowner named Charles Brown--responded, gesturing towards the garishly decorated and lit doghouse in his backyard. Gold garland glittered in the blink blink blink of hundreds of twinkling red and green lights. A sign wishing everyone a Merry Christmas blinked in counterpoint. "No." 7. belief undoes your disbelief (Star Wars, Baze/Chirrut) It's not a question of belief. Baze knows the Force exists; like gravity, like time, he is subject to its effects on his life whether he believes in it or not. He’s never believed in much-–the accuracy of his aim, his ability to reload on the run, and the accumulation of credits in order to pay for the finer things in life, or at least a bed and a shower and a hot meal when the finer things (and the credits) are in short supply. People disappointed him early–-the family who died or left or failed to keep in touch when he was the one who left. And friends only last as long as the credits and Correllian ale keep flowing. 8. Bait and Switch (DCU, Steph/Jason) Steph's a lot smarter than the dumb blonde most people take her for, so she's clocked the guy tailing her across campus within the first five minutes, on the long walk from Kane Hall to the Burton Auditorium for her Literature and Civilization lecture. She can't get a good look at him, but he's tall and broad-shouldered and wearing a leather jacket, which could mean he's an annoying LAX bro who's seen too many rom-coms and thinks stalking is romantic or a member of a gang who wants to kill her. Some days it's hard to tell the difference. He doesn't follow her into the lecture hall, though, so she spends the next hour taking notes about existentialism and wondering if Sartre had visited Gotham before he formulated the maxim that hell is other people, and what he'd have thought about vigilantism. She doesn't ask the professor though. She tries not to draw attention in her classes. 9. with our way lit only by stars (Earthsea, Ged/Tenar) It was deep winter, a time when the snow came as regularly as the sunrise, and the sunrise finally came earlier each day, when Tenar awoke from dreams of the sea. She had never been one to put too much stock in dreams; life was complicated enough without adding unnecessary prophecy to it. But the dreams returned night after night for a week and then two. She could almost taste the salt on her lips, and feel the swell of the waves even in their bed of sturdy oak. "Divination was never my gift," Ged said when she finally mentioned them to him, after her tossing and turning woke him after yet another week in which the dream bore her across the seas. "But if you feel there's something you must do, you should do it." 10. Celestial Navigation (Star Wars, Finn/Rey, Anakin) "Go, go, go, go," shouts flight control and the next wave of ships launches, the roar of their engines momentarily drowning out the whine and screech of the TIEs and the X-Wings wheeling above and the staccato bursts of blaster and anti-aircraft fire. The Falcon's entry ramp vibrates under the soles of Finn's boots, but they can't take off without Luke and he's not here. Finn reaches out with the Force--Rey's in the cockpit, right where she's supposed to be, but Luke is somewhere else, his brightness accompanied by the banked fire of the General's presence. Finn's comm crackles to life, and through all the static and the noise, he can hear Luke say, "I'm with Leia and Chewie on Command One. Get on the Falcon and get out. I'll catch up with you at the rendezvous point." "Yes, sir," Finn snaps out, and pounds up the gangway. "Rey, let's go!" 11. what spring does with the cherry trees (Star Wars, Anakin/Ahsoka) It's the middle of the night shift on their second day in hyperspace when Anakin realizes he hasn't seen Ahsoka since they boarded the Resolute. It's not unusual for either of them to sleep for a full rotation after a prolonged mission, but they generally check up on each other afterwards--she makes sure he finishes his after action reports and he makes sure she eats and hydrates, and they go over everything that happened and what they could do better next time. He reaches out in the Force but gets nothing back but a vague irritation, like an itch he can't quite scratch in the back of his skull. He finds Rex in the ready room, hunched over a datapad and a mug of caf. They review some intelligence reports that have come in from Coruscant and speculate about their next deployment, and then he asks, "Have you seen Ahsoka?" 12. the dream of flight persists (Star Wars/Firefly; Anakin/Kaylee) It was easier to get work when the twins were babies. In the aftermath of Palpatine's ascension, there was a lot of chaos as the people who understood what was coming fled to the Outer Rim, and many of them needed a pilot or a mechanic (or both) to manage their pre-war freighters or cruisers. People didn't ask as many questions when they saw a grieving young father trying to care for his adorable infants on his own. Now, it's more difficult, because the kids can't just be strapped into the copilot's seat while they nap or carried around on his back when he pushes his way through a cantina or marketplace looking for a berth. They talk too much, ask innocent questions that no one wants to answer, least of all Anakin himself, and while his skills tend to allow a certain type of people to ignore his famous face, he hates having to trust his children's lives to that kind of greed masquerading as kindness. He's tried leaving them with Owen and Beru, but none of them fared well with the separation, though Beru was more than happy to keep them. They've already lost their mother; he's determined they don't lose their father, too. Not after how close they came to losing everything because of his stupidity. 13. I'm crawling on your shore (Six of Crows, Kaz/Inej) The important thing, Kaz thinks after they fish him out of the water, is that no one can tell how irrationally terrified he was. The slight shivers could be attributed to the dunking he'd taken in the harbor, rather than his horror at being submerged and almost drowned. By the time the fight is over and he's on the deck of The Wraith, he has it under control, though the cold night air is colder against wet skin and clothes. The sensation is nauseating, but he swallows it down and grits his teeth until business is handled. It takes more than an unexpected dip in the ocean to throw Kaz Brekker. At least, that's what he needs people to believe. 14. Just a Little Bit of History Repeating (Star Wars, Vader & Leia) Assassination attempts in the Senate decreased sharply after the Emperor came to power, at least the ones that took place in the actual Senate building. As such, over the years, when he was not present while the Senate was in session, security had become lax. Needless to say, it was a bit of a shock to everyone in the massive room the day half a dozen assassin droids spilled out of the vents and began shooting. Darth Vader was, unfortunately, present, and able to make short work of the droids, even though he felt that the Empire would be better off if some of the sybaritic sycophants who served in the Senate were destroyed. He was no politician but he understood that it would look bad if they were murdered on his watch rather than at his command. 15. The Rumor of Rain (Star Wars, Shmi, Anakin, Obi-Wan, Luke, Rey) One of Shmi's earliest memories is of drops of water hitting her face and sliding down her cheeks--not tears, she thinks then--so she doesn't discount the possibility of rain, the way the other slaves do. (It's not until years later that she realizes they were not her tears.) Spacers are full of wild tales, more hyperbole than truth, but the galaxy is vast and Tatooine is one small dusty corner of it. The elders' stories say the desert used to be lush and green before war brought desolation with it, and there's still water out there for those who know how to look, for those the desert takes into its care. Shmi has always found comfort in those stories, in knowing that a thing doesn't need to be seen to be true. 16. There's Still Time to Change the Road You're On (Star Wars, Anakin, Luke, & Leia) Anakin frowns as he brings his starfighter in for a landing next to the circle of standing stones that mark the dead drop. Jakku is not quite as terrible as Tatooine--there's only one sun, thank the Maker--but it's still full of sand and heat. He grumbles about it as he slides down the ladder and his feet hit the ground. He's going to be finding sand in his boots for weeks, and no matter how much he shakes out his clothes, the cockpit of his starfighter will also to be full of sand, and Padmé will scold him for leaving trails of sand in her sheets. He growls low in his throat even though there's no one around to hear him. He's sure this is all Obi-Wan's fault somehow. 17. The Only Way Through (Star Wars, Ahsoka & Obi-Wan) Ahsoka glares at the flashing lights on the steering console and swears loudly when a sharp thump with her fist doesn't fix the problem. The ship reverts to real space and she braces herself, annoyed and rueful. She's survived too much to die like this, in a stolen Imperial ship that is apparently falling apart at the seams, but the Force is with her, because there's nothing nearby--no ships, no moons, no unexpected stars or black holes or gravity wells to swallow her up. She sighs in relief and sinks back into the pilot's seat, letting the tension leach from her shoulders and breathing her fear into the Force. She gives herself a couple of moments to relax and savor the feeling of not being dead yet, and then she gets to work. 18. The Wild Chance of Living (Star Wars, Ahsoka/Aphra, Vader) Whispers have dogged Ahsoka since her unexpected return from Malachor. She's used to it--rumors and gossip have followed her since she was Anakin's padawan, and she learned then not to take it personally. The distrust is also familiar, if more unpleasant. She remembers the taste of it from the war--from civilian populations and unfamiliar clone troopers, and occasionally, from other Jedi who didn't like her master--and from the years after, when she'd had to make her way hidden and alone. It's new among the Rebels, though. 19. The Black Knight (HP, Sirius/Remus) Remus placed the tray on the table with a thump, cutlery and china rattling. Sirius let out a low moan and lifted his head from where it rested against the cool mahogany. "Breakfast, sir," Remus said crisply, and removed the cover to expose runny eggs and bacon congealing in its own grease. "Ugh." "Will that be all, sir?" Sirius turned his head slowly to look at Remus. "Stop looming, Remus. Sit down." Remus's jaw tightened, the only sign of anger on his otherwise blank face, but all he said was, "Is that an order, sir?" "Yes. And dammit, stop calling me sir." 20. The reoccurring kind (MCU, Steve/Bucky) Steve still dreams of this sometimes, the whisper-soft touch of Bucky's lips on his skin, followed by the rough brush of his stubble or the wet velvet of his tongue. He used to wake up hard and aching after those dreams, frustrated and desperate and angry and sad all at once over something he wanted more than anything and knew he would never--could never--have, thanks to society, his health, the war--and once he'd had it, never have again, thanks to the ice, HYDRA, the Accords. He has it now. Bucky is warm and solid in bed with him, acres of bare skin begging for the touch of Steve's hands and mouth. He still has to fight the urge sometimes to break away and pick up a charcoal--has done it occasionally and they've both ended up smudged and gray in places charcoal probably wasn't ever meant to be. Luckily, skin is easy to wash clean, and the serum gave him an eidetic memory, so he can always draw Bucky later.

I don’t really have anything to say about them? Some should have been rewritten and some, no amount of rewriting could help. I feel like I try to shove as much exposition as possible into those first few lines to get it over with so I can get on with the story. But I am not and never have been great at first sentences. I feel lucky people bother to read my stories at all sometimes.

Drabble Race Part C

And here are my final drabble race contributions. Once again below the cut because there’s a lot.

Ultraviolet 1 “I hate Ultraviolet,” Clint groaned. “Why did you put this movie on?”

“It’s not a cinematic masterpiece,” Darcy agreed as she grabbed her bottle of wine with a crazy straw sticking out of it. It had been a gift from Jane when she had been accepted into her PhD program. “But it reminds me of Jane and Thor and London, and I was feeling a bit nostalgic today so I put it on.”

Clint looked at her carefully.

“Is that really it?” he asked, and she wondered what he had seen that made him think it was more.

“Yeah.”

2 “This is the best band in Seattle and you’re just going to have to quietly acquiesce to being wrong if you think otherwise,” her date sniffed.

It might have been cute if there were more established. If they had been together and had time to have little inside jokes or cute little arguments that were really just veiled flirting, but this was a first date, and thus there was no context for her with regards to what appeared to be a pretty shitty attitude.

“So if I were to say Ultraviolet Primrose was better?” she asked feeling him out.

“Then we’d be done here.”

“Cool,” she said, grabbing her purse.

3 “I don’t know if Ultraviolet is the right name for this flavor,” she said with a frown as she scooped the ice cream out of the counter top maker. She and Spencer had been working on making their own experimental flavors and naming each in a cute little lab notebook he had bought just for this purpose.

“Why not?” he asked from behind her as he grabbed bowls and spoons.

“It’s move mauve than anything, and I feel like that color isn’t befitting the name.”

He looked over her shoulder and tilted his head a bit. “You might be right,” he agreed.

4 “I’ve never been to a AAA ball game,” he admitted, “but I’m glad we’re here.”

“I can’t believe you’ve lived here basically all your life and never been!” Darcy said. “This place is the best. I love small stadiums. It’s almost like the mom and pop shop of baseball.”

“Well, I’ve been kinda busy.”

“Too busy to watch baseball”

“Well id does normally last hours and honestly it doesn’t always feel like much happens.”

She gasped. “Blasphemy!” she cried. 

He laughed at her. “You don’t even like baseball. We’re here for the free stickers.”

She smiled. “They were definitely worth the price of admission to the Ultraviolets game.”

5 “So, like, what does it mean if something is ultraviolet anyway?” her niece asked with wide eyes.

“Well, you know how you can see all sorts of different colors? Like with your markers?” she asked as she colored along with the little girl.

“Yeah?”

“Well sometimes there are colors that our eyes can’t even see for a variety of reasons. Ultraviolet is kinda like that. We know it exists because there are special ways to take pictures of light our eyes can’t see.”

“Weird,” the girl said as she reached for another marker without capping the last one.

“Indeed,” Darcy agreed as she snagged the lid to cap it.

6 “It’s like this special ultraviolet paint that you put on the wall and even thought you can’t see it, it has healing properties,” her mom said as she stirred the paint in the can that looked suspiciously like it was just Modge Podge with little flecks of silver glitter in it.

“Riiight,” Darcy said, blowing the word out as she tried to figure out how to tackle this one with her mom. “Errr, where did you buy it? It isn’t a brand I recognize.”

“Oh, this lady at work sells it. She’s working on a patent.”

“Right,” Darcy said again.

7 “I want to name her ultraviolet,” Darcy said as she hugged the kitten to herself.

“That’s a weird name choice,” Jane said as they picked up a cat carrier and other essentials.

“Maybe,” Darcy allowed, “but when I was little there was this neighbor that used to read the dictionary. She was the only kid my age, so we were kinda friends by proxy. Every day she would bring me a new word. Ultraviolet was the last word she ever shared with me.”

“Okay, not so weird then,” Jane said as she picked up a toy with a feather on the end. “Kinda sweet, actually.”

Black hole 1 “It’s like your room is a black hole,” Jane said with tones of both disgust and awe as she looked at the space.

“Like you don’t also have better things to do with your time than clean your room,” Darcy said. “I mean, really. I was with you in New Mexico. If I remember right, you made cleaning up the living quarters part of my intern duties.”

Jane sighed. “Yeah. Fair. I might not have room to talk, but you definitely took this to a level that even I could not compete with.”

“Thank you,” Darcy said with a satisfied smile.

2 “This class is like a black hole that sucks all the fun out of a subject I really love,” Darcy said while trying not to roll her eyes at the professor as he droned on.

“But if it was fun, people might want to take this class, and then he might actually have to put in effort,” the guy sitting next to her said.

“You’re right,” she agreed. “He’s got a good racket going on here. I mean, he’s certainly perfected it. Everyone in here is here because we have to be. You can’t get the minor without this class. No one is just signing up for it.”

“He’s an evil genius.”

3 “They call this one the black hole,” Helen said as she sat down the tray of glasses in the middle of the table. “Everyone take one!”

“Why do they call it that?” Jane asked as she looked at the almost iridescent blue color of the drink.

“Because it leaves a black hole in your memory if you have more than one,” Darcy said. “Which is a real danger because it tastes like a jolly rancher. Not a bit of alcoholic aftertaste at all.”

“Well that’s dangerous,” Maria said as she picked up her own glass. “I’m in.”

4 “I think that there’s definitely a slim chance we can survive if we put up the hypersonic shield when we start to get sucked into the black hole,” Darcy said to the captain.

“How slim?” he asked.

“A solid 20%, sir,” she said.

“More than I thought,” he replied with a considering frown. He looked around the bridge. “Anyone have a better idea?”

Everyone shook their heads in the negative.

“Well then,” he said with a clap of his hands. “Let’s do it. I love defying the odds. Let’s go down in history.”

5 “That’s a black hole,” Clint said as he pointed at the little circle of construction paper left behind by her hole punch.

She looked up at him. “Really Clint?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I was trying to make a space joke now that you’re all special with you fancy new degree in space science.”

“That’s actually kinda something different, but point taken. I appreciate the effort you put forth there.”

He smiled. “That’s me. Always putting forth just enough effort to make you have to acknowledge it.”

She couldn’t help it. She burst out laughing. “Yeah. That’s why we’re friends.”

6 “The color’s called black hole,” Helen said as she reapplied her lipstick. “I’ve found that it’s a lovely deterrent for men and a great draw for the right kind of woman,” she said with a smirk.

“Get it girl,” Darcy said as she touched up her own red lips. “So I guess you’re after some pussy tonight instead of dick?”

Helen drowned a bit as she wiped a bit at the corner of her mouth. “Yeah. The last few dates I’ve had were with men and they all kinda sucked. Time for a change of pace to get me out of my loser streak.”

7 “Is that a black hole?” he asked pointing toward the monitor.

“No,” she said with a sigh. “That’s just a space where the current equipment is not strong enough to read the stars in that area because they’re very far away. 

They had been playing this game for something like ten minutes now, and she wished she could just make the dude leave, but he was the dean’s son, and she had ended up somehow babysitting him. Though why a 25-year old man needed babysitting was beyond her. She looked at the clock. At least she could move onto lunch in another half hour.

“Is that a black hole?” he asked, pointing yet again.

Solar 1 “It’s called a solar sailor,” the kid at the park told her with pride. He had a small little paper airplane in his hands that he had clearly drawn suns all over. Some of them had little smiley faces on them.

“Super cool,” she said with a soft smile as she tried to lead him back toward the information kiosk. She had found him crying by the pond after he had been separated from his family. She had told him that she would walk him to the kiosk for help, and he had immediately latched onto her. “Tell me about making it,” she encouraged.

2 “Total eclipse of the heart,” she belted out as her friends clapped wildly. Investing in the at home karaoke machine was such a good idea.

“Do  you think an eclipse of the heart is more of solar or lunar thing?” Jane mused once the last cords of the song were done and everyone had given her scores for her performance.

“Hmmm, probably lunar,” Helen said. “I always think lunar eclipses are way more romantic, thus a total eclipse of the heart is lunar.”

“Solar,” Maria argued. “Love blots out everything just like the eclipse blots out the sun.”

Darcy just laughed at them as she set up for Pepper’s turn.

3 “I’ve been thinking about putting solar panels out on my little balcony to power a generator,” Spencer said as they cuddled on the couch.

“Oh?” she asked, not sure what exactly he was wanting from her.

“It’s just the power has gone out here twice in the last month, and if you had been here, you wouldn’t have been able to work on your research,” he said.

Oh. Well if that wasn’t the cutest and sweetest thing Darcy had ever heard.

“I think it’s a good idea,” she said. “And thank you for thinking of me.”

“Always,” he murmured into her hair.

4 “You need some solar cream,” Thor said as he rummaged in the beach bag. Darcy shot a look at Jane who mouthed “sunscreen” at her. Well that made more sense than she had been expecting.

“You’re right,” Darcy agreed, snagging the bottle that he had just unearthed from his hands. “I am a delicate beauty and don’t want to burn.”

Jane snorted into her water bottle. “You looked like a lobster for your first week in New Mexico.”

“Wasn’t my fault that TSA confiscated my sunscreen,” she grouched as she lathered up her legs.

5 “Do you think you’ll ever get to travel beyond our solar system?” Fitz asked her. 

“I don’t know,” Darcy said, her eyes still on her screen. “I mean, very few people have done it so far, and those were pretty extraordinary circumstances.”

“But would you want to?”

Darcy considered the idea and her fingers stilled on the keys. “I’m not sure,” she finally said. “I think I might want to, but there’s so much that I’d hate to leave behind here.”

“Like?” he asked. She couldn’t see him, but she could imagine his face scrunched up in consideration.

“You.”

6 “I refuse to get on that monstrosity,” Steven said as he looked up at the Solar Scream roller coaster. “I don’t even know what witchcraft you used to get me here in the first place, but you will not be dragging me onto that.”

“Of really, doctor?” she asked, batting her eyelashes a bit.

“That won’t work on me,” he growled.

“Won’t it?” she asked as she ran her fingers up his arm.

“No,” he said stubbornly.

“That’s too bad,” she said with an exaggerated sigh. “I guess that means I won’t be able to give you a reward when we get home then.”

He turned to look at her. “Maybe I could be convinced,” he said with a smirk.

7 “Was that a solar flare?” she asked with a quiet sigh. “I thought we had weathered the last of them.”

“Shhhh,” Jane said as she looked at the output of the machines they had built from junk they had found in this strange land where they had ended up thanks to something Loki had done.

“You think it might come back?” she asked, her voice little more than a whisper on the wind.

“It might if we keep talking,” Jane said, tension rolling off her. Neither of them wanted those creatures to come back.

Cluster 1 “Peanut clusters are the best, and I will not have you besmirching their good name,” Darcy said with a haughty tone and put upon airs.

“Oh is that so?” Rabbit asked, trying to match her tone but failing miserably. “Well, madam, I think that means we are at an impasse.”

“Undoubtedly,” she agreed, her nose up in the air.

He cracked first, a small chuckle that turned into a full on belly laugh as soon as Darcy lost her composure and snorted when trying to keep herself from breaking.

“But really?” he asked through his laughter.

“Really,” she said. “They’re pretty tasty.”

2 They were standing in a cluster under the awning of the theater as they waited for everyone to arrive so they could purchase their tickets.

“This is weird, right?” Darcy said as she joined the group and they made their way to the ticket window.

“Yeah,” Jane agreed as she continued to look around the area. “I can’t believe this will be the first movie that I’ve seen in a theater in over a year.”

“Right?” Helen said. “I wish that they were requiring proof of vaccination though.” She looked around the other clusters of people. “You just know some of them are anti-vax,” she sniffed.

3 “Did you know you have a cluster of freckles just here?” he asked as he ran his fingers over the back of her shoulder before his lips descended and pressed softly into the skin.

“I didn’t,” she said as she swept her hair out of his way and his lips slipped from her shoulder up her neck and behind her ear.

“You’re so good at that,” she said with a contented sigh.

“I’m glad you think so,” he said with a gentle chuckle. “I’d like to take this moment to show you just what else I’m good at,” he said as his lips returned to their path.

4 “I want a chocolate cluster buster bar,” Jane determined after her nearly ten minute perusal of what was on offer at the small mom and pop ice cream shop.

“Good choice,” Darcy said. “It’s definitely a favorite of mine, but I’m more in a citrus mood, so I’m going to go with the lemon sunshine.” She placed their orders and then led Jane out to the small grouping of benches with large shade umbrellas.

“This was a perfect choice,” Jane said as she took a bite and then stretched her neck. “We’ve been working too hard.”

“No kidding,” Darcy agreed.

5 “Does there seem to be something strange about that star cluster?” Darcy asked as she tried to zoom in a bit on the area she thought felt wrong.

“It does,” Fitz said as he pressed close to her to get a look for himself. She tried not to be too aware of how his warmth seeped into her. Now was not the time to let her crush come roaring back into her life. Now was the time to figure out what the hell was going on in sector AV-37.

“I think that maybe there’s some sort of interference,” he said, pulling away a bit. Darcy let out the breath she had been holding.

6 “If you cluster them like so,” the instructor said, “you can make the whole arrangement take on a more whimsical approach.” She moved over to the next vase and pointed to the same set of flowers. “Look at how the same cluster looks totally different when placed in this more formal arrangement,” she said.

Darcy looked down at her own flowers and considered them. She understood what the teacher was saying, but she just couldn’t decide what she wanted to do with hers.

“This class was such a fun idea,” Helen said next to her as she contemplated her own flowers.

7 “Bunch up some more!” the photographer called. “No, not like that. That looks like some sort of high school prom lines thing. I want more of a natural cluster,” he directed.

“The fuck does that mean?” Darcy asked under her breath. The man kept yelling things like that at them but never giving more specific directions like “Jane move two steps left” or “Helen take one step forward.”

“Who knows,” Helen said, just as irritated. “Pepper is lucky we love her. I would have never agreed to be part of her bridal party if I had any inkling it was going to be like this.”

“Amen,” Darcy agreed.

"All In?" A Case Study In Stand-Up Comedy

Suppose you're in your early thirties or older and want to give stand-up a try... First and foremost, hats off to you. Most people do not have the courage to ever try something like that. It is nerve-wracking at first. If you are naturally introverted, it can be downright brutal. Don't believe me? Cobble together five minutes, find an open-mic in your area, and get on the low-rise stage with the faux-brick backdrop.

It's warmer up there than you'd imagine, and the lights are a LOT brighter you'd imagine. You can kind of make out some faces in the audience, but not really. The rustle of limbs adjusting in their seats and the clink of pint glasses informs you that there are quite a few people in the room, but otherwise, they're quiet as hell because they're waiting for YOU to make them laugh. You hear an awkward, breaking, nervous voice coming out of a cheap PA system, shambling his or her way through a joke, and then you realize it's yours.

Suppose you bomb a couple times, but something masochistic and resilient in you says, "That was scary but fun, I want to try doing this some more and see if I get better!", and indeed, you put in work and keep at it. You find yourself improving  It's bringing out something new in you that you never quite imagined you'd see or experienced.

That fun and newness and electric feeling you're experiencing is gonna slam hard against the hull of a two big questions: "I'm in my thirties. Time is not on my wide like it used to be. How far do I want to go with this, and am I willing or capable of putting in what's needed to get there?"

There's less of an urgency to ask this question in your early or mid-twenties.  Not so in your thirties. Your sense of time and appreciation for time is a lot different. You understand that things have ticking clocks attached to them. Maybe you have other life goals with their own ticking clocks that are incompatible with this new thing. Maybe you have responsibilities in your life that take priority over this new thing.

All of this is pretty self-evident, but they kind of determine your answer to the two questions:

1. How Far Do I Want To Go With This Thing?

There are really two answers...."All In" or "Not All In"

If your answer is "Not All In", then that makes what you do a lot more flexible. Suppose you say to yourself, "Hey, I don't want to go pro, I just want to do an open-mic every once in a while and have fun and see if I get better...". If that is all you want to do and are content with that, then bravo. You have reasonable expectations and can probably adapt that to whatever is going on in your day to day life. The only trade-off is that there is a definite ceiling to how far you can go.

If your answer is "All In...", as in "This is going to be my main thing and I am going to seriously commit to this and go as far as I can!", then you have to ask yourself what is it going to take to get there.

2. Am I capable of putting in what's needed to get there?

There are more questions you'll have to ask yourself. I can't hit 'em all, but these are some big ones.

A. Am I Willing And/Or Able To Work 5 or 6 Nights A Week? Because you're going to have to. For practice, exposure and networking and becoming part of a community. You're probably going to have to zig-zag around to the the different rooms in your city. To do that, you may have to wait until 11:00 PM or later to get your time. And after you're done, hanging out and shooting the shit afterwards with your fellow comedians is par for the course. It's part of how you foster friendships as well as future working relationships. But someone who is twenty-three or twenty-four has different stamina than,say, someone ten years their senior.

Do you have a job that will allow you to keep this kind of schedule? Can you come into work the next day and still be able to do your job well? Do you have a partner or significant other? Do you have children? Do you have a dog? Can your body keep up with it?

B. Am I Willing To Go On The Road? If you're serious about, say making a living at standup, and want to break out of the three or four rooms you work around you're city, you're going to have to get out on the road at hit some farther-flung markets than you imagined. Are you, for instance, ready to have your East Coast metropolitan Jewish voice fall on deaf ears in Lynchburg, VA (seriously, don't go to Lynchburg)? Not only will you not make much money on the road while you pay your dues (which may take a few years), you will be very lucky if you break even and will, more likely than not, lose money out there. There is a documentary out there called "I Am Road Comic" that is worth watching if you have even the faintest aspirations of being a comedian. It's not that good a documentary, but it has a very informative cost breakdown portion of a week on the road. It's not that far off from living like a minor league ballplayer.

The smaller questions in Question A (significant other/job/children/dog) apply here as well. Assuming that the stars align and there's a window where you can take off, can you afford to be away for a week or two at a time and not bring any money home? Do you have pre-existing debt of any sort? By the way, you will take on debt as an aspiring comedian.

C. Am I Willing To Be Broke? Or Have A Roommate? With any serious endeavor comes sacrifice. One of these may be in the form of money lost to a time commitment. If your day job is incompatible with your new ambitions, you may need to find a new gig that can accommodate your comedy schedule. If you have already have a skill set that you can do on your own schedule and make decent money at, that's probably the most ideal. If you don't, you may have to take a service industry job or a temp job that will help you shore things up. If you're leaving behind a more stable lifestyle, you're most likely taking a pay cut.

Taking a pay cut to pursue a larger goal is a hard enough thing to do. The prospect of making just enough to scrape by on (especially if you live in an expensive real estate market, which you'll have to do) is a very, very hard prospect to go back to. Anyone who has been broke knows how terrible it makes you feel. In addition to the constant state of anxiety you live in, you have to deal with feelings of vulnerability and a tremendous amount of dings to your self-esteem. You feel like an utter loser when you have to ask people to borrow things.

I was broke for about four years in my early twenties. I said to myself, "Never again". I still stand by that answer today.

Ditto for having roommates.

D. Can I Deal With Being Around Twenty-Somethings All The Time? When I was a kid, I took karate lessons, and for the adults, they had an arrangement where they could skip a couple of belts provided they proved themselves in testing. The logic was that they can learn at a more advanced rate than a six-year-old, and should therefore have a different range of opportunities. Makes sense, right?

If you get a "late start" with stand-up, there is no skipping green belt through purple belt. There will be no one to come along and say, "Hey, you can come this way to the Thirty-And-Over Open Mic Room, we understand your situation." A comedian scrapping his or her way up is the same, regardless of age. You will be more like the lone "old guy" you may remember from classes in college, if you went to college. Except there may not be a "professor figure" closer to your age there whom you can relate to. So by default, your peers will probably be a lot younger than you. In a sense, you are peers: you are all new to something, you are all learning by trial and error and developing your own voice, you are going through the same highs and lows together and experiencing a sort of rite of passage together. 

In another way, you are not quite peers because you are in different stages of life. For instance, I am thirty-seven years old at the time of this writing. I can have one conversation with a 25-year-old who loves all the same music and books and movies as I do, and a second conversation with a 36-year-old who may not like any of the same movies/music/books, but is sort of in a similar stage of life as me and has the same attendant anxieties. Odds are, I am going to feel more of a kinship with the 36-year-old than I will the 25-year-old. It doesn't mean I can't have fun talking to the 25-year-old, but the truth is, I know there will be a little bit of an "old guy loneliness" on my end. I know I could try and talk about the things I worry about at my age, and they could empathize and maybe understand it in the abstract, but they couldn't truly "get it" because they just haven't been there yet. Are you ready to feel that "old guy loneliness" / out-of-place feeling at a diner at 11:30 PM on a Tuesday?

E. Is This My #1 Thing? As your twenties draw to an end, so will your life as a polymath (or a dilettante, perhaps). It becomes harder to be a musician / writer / filmmaker / comedian / photographer / artisanal dildo craftsman. Some people choose to stay on that road, and that's fine, but it becomes harder to excel at any one thing. Time is not on your side like it used to be. You have to narrow your focus and decide for yourself what Your Number One is. And you have to be okay with those other things taking a backseat to Your Number One. Is stand-up comedy Your Number One? Is it the one craft you're ready and willing to devote most of your energy to? If not, that's okay. 

I toyed around with open mics and had a blast, but chose not to continue with it because in my heart of hearts, I realized comedy was not my "Number One". Who knows, it’s possible that I’m merely just “office funny” and not “stage funny”. I also realized I could not answer many of the above questions in the affirmative. Maybe someday I will give open-mics another go, just to see how I do.

Many serious artistic pursuits besides comedy have a similar array of questions that have to be answered. Some of those answers you come up with may bum you out at first, but knowing which ones to ask early on enough will same you a LOT of unnecessary heartache.

-J