look who’s here again

and also the grey ver for those interested

Hello! can you do a scenario with fem!reader and father's best friend!namjoon? I totally understand if this is a concept you're uncomfortable with. All the armys are going crazy with the dilf!bts concept so I need to have this 😭

Tbh that's a hard concept (like absolutely don't do this irl y'all plss it's not okay if it's not fiction– go in the notes to read my PSA pls) so I had to write a bit of plot at the beginning just because I wanted to make it as less weird as possible lol

Namjoon wasn't the type of family friend you got to see a lot growing up. He was, however, the type of friend you got to hear about a lot. Your dad had spent his high school years being in a band that never really had its break, and Namjoon had apparently been the youngest member and your father's favourite. He kept talking about how he "raised" him, meaning he helped him get his first kiss and taught him about girls. Then your dad got your mum pregnant right after graduating, and they both decided to move to the US to find a job and start their family. Your family. And so your dad lost touch with his best friend.

He talked about him quite often, and you knew he had even visited once when you were still too young to have a memory of it. You had only ever seen a couple of pictures of them together; Namjoon looked like a very cringy 13-year-old with a terrible haircut. Not that your dad as a teenager looked any better. But that's beside the point. It doesn't matter what he looked like back then, today you probably wouldn't be able to even recognize him even if he passed you on the street.

"Did I tell you? My best friend moved here from Korea! The band kids are back together!"

Namjoon came back into your father's life at around the same time as you left it– moved away for college. And you kept getting all these updates on how great it was that they found each other again, how many things they did together and in general how happy your dad was. When you visited home for Christmas, Namjoon was away so you didn't run into him. And almost a year after he had moved there, you would finally meet him during the summer. Your father invited him for dinner one hot evening in July.

You opened the door to find him standing outside, your mother just a step behind to greet him. “Joonie! So glad you could make it. Come on in, come on in... Ah! As you know, this is our daughter.”

The man was tall and handsome, nothing like the pictures you had seen. And familiar. His eyes met yours and he smiled, making your blood run cold— you had seen that man before. Not even a week ago, staring at you at the bar while sipping his whiskey until you decided he was too hot and couldn’t be older than 30, so you walked up to him and gave him a napkin with your number and a lipstick stain of a kiss on it. He never called.

“Wow,” Namjoon said without his tone matching his words. “She has grown up so much.” And he looked you up and down again, checking you out kind of like he had done that night. Your entire face was burning, turning on your heels to get away. What the fuck kind of luck was that? He was your dad's friend? You hoped– you begged that he didn't recognize you. He wasn't saying anything, though his eyes kept on stealing looks, and so you thought you might have had a close escape. Until you run into each other in the kitchen. Alone. "Come here, young lady," he said in a deep voice that sent shivers down your spine. You already felt like you were in trouble. "Does your father know you go around giving your number to men almost twice your age?"

He was so close, eyes travelling lazily down your form with a smirk on his lips. "No," you choked. "I– I don't– You were staring at me, that's why I thought..."

"I was staring at you because I was trying to figure out if you were my best friend's daughter."

Hearing him say the words made your cheeks burn. Defeat. He had a logical excuse and all you had was that he was a little too much your type. And he sounded like he was scolding you, reminding you of your place. You lowered your head, really wanting to get out. "Please don't tell him."

Don't tell him I hit on you. Don't tell him I wanted to fuck you.

Namjoon didn't reply right away, but late that night you got a text from an unknown number. "I won't tell him anything."

He won't tell him anything. Perhaps that could be applied to what had already happened, or what would happen in the future.

You didn't text frequently, but you did nonetheless. And even though you were sure both of you would say they were simple, innocent texts, how innocent could they really be when the man already knew how you felt about him? Maybe you were crazy, but you thought he might like you too. Maybe he liked the fact that you liked him. It wasn't evident in anything he did or say, just the vibes you got from him those days he visited your house, or the way he looked at you when you were left alone for a second. The summer passed by so fast when every other day you met your father's best friend in one way or another.

When it was time for you to move back to the city where you attended college, Namjoon just so happened to be going there for some work too. And your parents were grateful that you had someone to travel with. The car ride was long and mostly silent. You had never been left alone for so long and suddenly you realised how hard it was to keep a conversation going without talking about how horny he made you feel just by being in the same, tight space with you. But the farther away you got from home, the less you cared about keeping your good reputation up.

"Where will you sleep tonight?" you asked him after he helped drop off all your stuff at your apartment late that night and was already at the door, ready to leave.

"I'll find a hotel," he told you, hand still on the door handle.

"You can stay here if you want to."

"Don't–" His plea was soft-spoken, in contrast to the intense way his eyes were piercing yours.

"Don't what?" you acted dumb. "All I'm saying is I'm sure dad would rather you stay instead of paying for a room. You're like family, anyway."

You noticed how he took in a deep breath, grip around the knob getting harder. "Don't bring him into this."

Saying that you two shouldn't mention your father was like admitting what was going on right now was beyond innocent. And even though your stomach clenched at his harsh tone, you bowed your head and whispered. "I'm sorry."

"This is so wrong," you heard him call loudly all of a sudden, making you look back at him. He was chewing on his lip desperately. "I was there when your dad got your mom pregnant. Do you know what I said? Fuck, man, how are you gonna get out of this bullshit? I shouldn’t be…"

You blinked at him, waiting to hear the end of the sentence. "Shouldn't be what?" You weren't gonna let him slip away that easily. You would push him until he had to say what he wanted to say. It was your only chance, anyway.

Namjoon sighed. He pushed the door closed and walked up to you steadily all while he was staring straight into your eyes. "Why did you give me your number that night?"

Your breathing was already getting heavier. You wouldn't back away. What was the point? He knew already. "Because you were hot. And I wanted you to fuck me."

He chewed his lip for a few seconds, watching your face as he contemplated his next words. "Why do you want me to stay over tonight?"

You gulped. He was so close, closer than ever. "Because you're hot," you whispered. Glance down on his lips. "And I want you to fuck me."

He closed his eyes momentarily before he was exhaling loudly. "Fucking– hell!"

And he instantly moved forward, one hand grabbing the back of your head as he brought your face to crush on his, mouths smashing against each other after all the times you had dreamed about it. It was so much better than you could have imagined, lips full and soft parting yours for his tongue to slip in between, making you moan. And you were trying to get closer and closer, almost tripping as you walked blindly further into the apartment. His jacket was discarded on the floor before your shirt joined it, and Namjoon was growling before attacking your neck with his teeth.

"Daddy..." The word truly slipped out of you, and he was pausing for a moment, pulling away to look at you.

"Really? You're really gonna call me daddy?" Your eyes were wide and cheeks burning, squirming away from him before he grabbed your wrist to keep you close. "Shit," he grunted, not sounding mad at all. "Alright, baby. Show daddy where your room is, need to get you in bed right away."

And you mewled at his words. You were there in no time, pulling the rest of your clothes off as Namjoon undressed too. Big and thick, he was even hotter like that, making you press your legs together as you took the sight in. And when he removed his boxers too, you got to found out his dick matched the rest of his body perfectly, long and thick and so hot it made your mouth water.

"Daddy," you whined as he started crawling over you. "You're so big. You're gonna tear me apart."

His large hand grabbed your jaw. "That's what you get for playing with big boys." And he kissed you ruthlessly again. His other hand travelling down your form until he found your pussy, fingers playing with your folds and humming in satisfaction. "So wet. Is that all for me, baby?"

"Yes, daddy," you moaned, hips trying to grind on his hand for some more friction. "I've been wet for you since I first saw you."

"Fuck. I know, baby," he breathed into your ear, two fingers slipping slowly inside you and stretching you out. "I could tell. You weren't hiding it very well, baby. How much you wanted me to ruin you. Which is why daddy's been hard for you all this time, too." Your breath was hitching as he was moving his hands slowly, not even trying to fuck you like that, just trying to get you ready for his cock. And he stopped. "Are you gonna let daddy fuck you raw, baby?"

You almost screamed. "Fuck, yes, daddy, please! Fuck me open with your cock."

Namjoon was growling as he retrieved his fingers from inside you. "What a dirty mouth! Who taught you to speak like that, you dirty, little whore? I thought you were a good girl."

Your nails were scratching his back as you whined and squirmed underneath him. "Oh, daddy, please! I need you! I'll be good for you."

And you felt the tip of his dick press against your entrance as he shushed you. "Alright then. Be a good girl for daddy and take this big cock like the good, little slut you are." And he shoved himself in you.

"O–oh my god!" you yelped. Namjoon didn't go easy on you, didn't go slow or gentle, he started pounding you fast and hard right away, truly fucking you open like you had asked him to. You were squirming underneath him but his body was so big and strong, it was caging you completely. And just to shut you up he kissed you again, tongue so deep in your mouth he was choking you. Namjoon was fucking you so hard he brought tears to your eyes, and you felt euphoric being used by him like that.

"My dirty, little cunt," he rasped after he freed your mouth. "Like taking my cock like that?" You were nodding, mewling, unable to speak. "What a good girl. Letting daddy fuck her as hard as he wants." He leaned back, grabbing your arms until he had your wrists pinned above your head and the new position gave him the ability to piston his hips against yours even faster, diving even deeper.

"Fuck, daddy, I'm gonna cum," you cried, legs shaking as they fought against his abusing thrusts between them.

"So easy," Namjoon panted with a smirk. "So easy to please you. Gonna cum cuz you've never had dick like daddy's before, huh? No one's ever fucked you this good? Those little boys your age, I bet they don't know shit about pleasing a nasty girl like you." He spat on his free hand and brought it right down on your clit, pressing on it hard. And you were moaning even louder. "There you go, baby. You can cum on daddy's dick now."

"Namjoon–" you yelped, and you felt your orgasm pop, gushing all your juices over him as he kept fucking you through it. He slowed down a bit, coming down to kiss you sloppily as you continued to whine with each thrust against your sensitive, tight walls.

"That's my good girl," he whispered, kissing you almost lovingly. "Don't worry, baby. We're not nearly done yet." And his thrusts slowly got deeper and deeper. "You really shouldn't have let me fuck you, baby. Cuz now I don't ever plan on stopping."

Masterlist | Part 2

hellu, can I request how would Delinquents, teachers, and bullies react to female reader pepper-sprayed the twins for self-defense when they try to beat up reader?

Hello, it's been a while, I'm sorry it took so long- I've been dealing with a lot of school assignments and I can't lie that I have frequent breakdowns over this-

I'll try and upload the requests that I already have and see if I should open up for requests again, or leave it be closed until the waves of work I need to do gets less overwhelming.

I hope y'all are doing great, stay safe everyone.

I'll make this a very short scenario boo.

TW: this is basically a civil war at this point- // for each pair, I'll add a different context (since technically the delinquents aren't from the same institution as the bullies) // female reader // bullying // self defense // anxiety // bullying (verbal and physical) // mentions of stalker behavior and brief mentions of distrust and paranoia

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Triple Spice combo [Yandere!Teachers / Yandere!Delinquents / Yandere!Bullies x F!Reader - Scenario]:

🎇Let me set the stage for a quick sec!🎇

So I'll explain what will happen- This is basically a post with three different timelines, each one based on each character type you're more interested in (example: you want some sour delinquents? You can follow the delinquent timeline and see how they react). Each follows almost similar circumstances, but still a bit differently to be able to fit for each individual timeline.

Come with me boo cause this one is long!

🎆: 🍒Bully's Timeline🍭

You have been the target of bullying for some weeks now, ever since you crossed some rich kids while going to your college. Unfortunately for you, they seem to be heading to the same location as you, apparently they also studied there- Although it should have been quite obvious. You're not the type to confront people physically, and you don't really feel like capable of fighting people of on your own, but because with their constant presence in your life you started to feel the need to get yourself prepared for what was going to come- Especially since you didn't feel like you could count on anyone.

You bought pepper spray in hopes of being able to stop your tormentors from continuing with their sick game.

That's when the incident happened, you were minding your own business when they came looking for trouble. You took the opportunity to finally put a stop on this by spraying their eyes with it.

✳️🍒Bullies🍭:

→ Alexandra Coldwell:

It was so fast and so painful that she couldn't even understand what just happened- Like- How dare you?! How fucking dare you?!! You think this is funny? This wasn't supposed to happen at all!

"- AAAAH!- what?- OH MY GOD-" Alexandra wasn't able to even finish her sentence, the pain was too much for her to handle. As she dropped to the ground trying to clean her eyes out, she couldn't help but feel confused as to what had even happened.

How could you do something so cruel to her?? Yes, she followed you, bullied you, made rumours about you, pulled your hair a couple of times and maybe she did throw insults towards you- But she didn't try to blind you!!

The worst part isn't even the humiliation she is going through, it's the fact you thought you would be able to pull a stunt like this and go away without any scars- She is so, absolutely livid by your stupidity.

Alexandra knows you must be liking this- And you know what? Enjoy your last free moments cause she will make sure you'll pay for it. She'll make sure to have a proper revenge under her sleeve, a proper punishment for harming someone like her in public.

Darling, darling, I hope you start looking behind your back from now on, never know what could happen when the person who is obsessed with you is just as insanely pissed off as they're madly in love with you.

→ Adrien Coldwell:

It was so fast and so painful that he couldn't even understand what just happened- Like- How dare you?! How fucking dare you?!! You think this is funny? This wasn't supposed to happen at all!

"- What- Oh my God I'm DYING!-" Adrien would be a lot more dramatic about it, even if he can articulate in great detail how much it hurts. In his panicked state, he started trying to wipe the substance with his sleeves- Which only helped to spread it more.

How fucking dare you not only hurt his precious eyes but also humiliate him on public like this?! What has gotten into you?? Yeah- I guess he did say hurtful stuff, followed you around to torment you, did throw stuff at you- But ya know- He didn't try to take your eyeballs out!?? Now that he thinks about it, he probably should have.

Adrien has a very weird view on your "relationship"- He thinks you're above him and so he must push you down, he loves you but being gentle with you will leave you to pull this kind of shit.

You're probably laughing to yourself now, the man is temporarily blind and you are laughing at him, you're somehow worse than he thought.

Still, he'll make you pay for it, don't worry about it dearest- You're fucked regardless. You tried to stand against him and now sadly he'll have to put you in your place again. Don't worry, it won't be so early- He still needs to prepare his plan.

Darling, darling, I hope you start looking behind your back from now on, never know what could happen when the person who is obsessed with you is just as insanely pissed off as they're madly in love with you.

🎆: 🍎Teacher's Timeline📕

You have been the target of bullying for some weeks now, ever since you crossed some rich kids while going to your college. Unfortunately for you, they seem to be heading to the same location as you, apparently they also studied there- Although it should have been quite obvious. You're not the type to get physical when it comes to defending yourself, but you felt that you still needed to do something about it- You talked with the only person you could trust in this moment, since they were your mentor and you needed some guidance from someone that could potentially help you solve this out.

Their idea was to be able to personally see the harassment happening so they could have visual proof of who is doing what to you, hopefully being able to expel the ones causing you harm.

They personally gave you pepper spray in hopes that if they aren't near you to help you, you can at least defend yourself in some way.

That's when the incident happened, you were minding your own business when they came looking for trouble. You took the opportunity to finally put a stop on this by spraying their eyes with it.

✳️🍎Teachers📕:

→ Matthew Robinson:

Although you thought to be in a situation where no one would be able to help you- Causing you to use your only item of self-defense- That couldn't have been further from the truth, as Matthew has made sure to pay close attention to you after you came by and ask for his guidance. It was a call for help and he would have been a horrible mentor to not make sure you'll follow his instructions, and it seemed like you did perfectly fine.

He got to be present to not only see the ones causing you harm, but also to see how well you're able to take care of yourself. He was going to intervene as soon as he saw them come closer, but you managed to stop them all by yourself- Honestly he is very proud of you for being able to stand your ground.

Since Matthew was able to see them starting the aggression just like many other witness surrounding the scene, he felt like he had an argument strong enough to be able to properly punish your bullies- Of course he is aware that the Coldwells have a reputation for getting staff members fired for trying to reprimanding them, but honestly he has been inside this place long enough already.

Getting fired isn't his problem, his problem is not being able to give them what they deserve for frightening you, and even worse than that: He needed to make sure you would stay safe in and out of college- You came to him saying they were following you outside of your classes, so of course he'll be worried for your safety.

After expelling the Coldwells, Matthew will just need to find a way of keeping you safe and under his surveillance, you may need more guidance after all, and it would be extremely worrying to not have you by his side. He just needs to plan out a better schedule for you two, one where he can be more present in your life after you're done with your classes.

I wonder what plan comes to his mind.

→ Madeline Allen:

Although you thought to be in a situation where no one would be able to help you- Causing you to use your only item of self-defense- That couldn't have been further from the truth, as Madeline has made sure to pay close attention to you after you came by and ask for her guidance. Madeline has been following you while you walked through the school's halls as she recorded every interaction you had with any of the other students. After you called her for help she entered full protection mode, she was set on getting your tormentors expelled.

However, Madeline hasn't been inside the institution to be able to earn the trust of the other teachers, or even the principal themselves- She needed some evidence and better witness testimony than those from students who were terrified of getting in trouble with the bullies around this place. You could say she had a guess as to who could be causing you trouble but she wouldn't be allowed to take action unless she could prove their identity and involvement in bullying you.

She gave you the pepper spray hoping you would feel less worried, to feel calmer in knowing you had not only something that you could use against them but also to symbolize how she would be there for you if you needed. Seeing you using it for the first time as you spray in the eyes of the culprits made her realize that she was in fact correct. Of course it's them, right?

If there is something wrong happening in Amaryllis, you can almost always pin it for being the Coldwell's fault. Bullying it's probably the least surprising thing this little demons have been accused of- Still, their rein over this institution and your worried little mind ends today, she doesn't care if she lost her job or if they try ruining her life by blackmailing her and such-

They can try but she is pretty sure they won't have any luck finding her, what can I say, she is good at burning evidence. What worries her though it's what will happen to you if they ever try to take their frustrations out on you again. She can't allow that to happen, you'll end up getting hurt and she'll feel awful if it was because of her interference in the case.

You need her help after all, right? You did come to her asking for guidance, and clearly you know nothing about physical self-defense- You clearly need someone to take care of you dearest. She needs to plan this out carefully, not only so the twins aren't allowed in school's grounds but to hopefully be able to guide you even if she is not your teacher anymore. But how could she have you near her everyday after classes?

I wonder what plan comes to her mind.

🎆: 🍋Delinquent's Timeline🐍

You have been the target of bullying for some weeks now, ever since you crossed some rich kids while going to your college. Fortunately for you, they didn't seem to go the same college as you did- Yet what you should have known was that nothing in life could have been so simple, you would still see them again over and over again after that incident. You started to feel anxious knowing that they were probably stalking you to know exactly when and where to find you, and since you already have to deal with going to a horrible institution and fearing for your own safety everyday.

You bought pepper spray so you could defend yourself not only from your stalkers but also from any possible classmate that could end up trying something weird with you.

That's when the incident happened, you were minding your own business when they came looking for trouble. You took the opportunity to finally put a stop on this by spraying their eyes with it.

✳️🍋Delinquents🐍:

→ Jackson Macnee:

He doubts you noticed that he was there when that happened, he doubts that you even care if he is staring at you at all- He always thought you were probably too scared of him to even tell him to stop, most people aren't scared of his appearance but are at least aware of his title, so they at least respect the path he walks. He is already used to this.

But let me tell you, to see the Coldwells come so near his territory seemed pretty interesting at first- Until he discovered why they were dumb enough to come here. He didn't know you were being bullied, let alone by these brats- He did notice you had changed your behavior recently, although he didn't pay any attention to it because he thought you were just getting accustomed with the way things work around Saint's Bernard hellhole of a place.

He was hoping that maybe you were just having issues with settling in- It is a rough place after all, and although he wishes deep down to be able to help you feel stronger he still feels like he shouldn't make you do something you don't want to. If you wished to talk to him, you should just go straight to him (even if he is aware of how terrifying that could be).

However, Jack was so far from the truth. His assumptions were confirmed fake after he saw the twins Coldwell treat you like he treated him- It was unbearable to watch, it was like he was seeing his past collide with his present self, you were reminding him of all the things he hated about himself, while also bringing his blood to boil in a desperate need to help you out. Yet he didn't need to do anything about it, you managed to defend yourself on your own.

It wasn't as rewarding to watch as he wanted it to be, but you sure did crack their ego pretty badly- He shouldn't have doubted you, after all he has been stalking you for so long, he should have known what you were capable of doing. Still, he doesn't trust the Coldwells enough to just let them run away like that, they would probably come back soon.

In the meantime, this should be a good excuse to get to talk with you, right? You clearly need some actual training, some flimsy pepper spray bottle isn't going to stop them from coming back. I hope you're ready to be trained by a lovesick delinquent, he won't be soft until he knows you can stand on your own.

→ Jannette Sartorius

She doubts you noticed that she was there when that happened, she doubts that you even care if she is staring at you at all- She always thought you were probably too scared of her to even tell her to stop, most people are scared of her. She is trying to get used to it.

Janette thinks she has every reason to observe you from afar, you're beautiful and you seem too precious to be in a place as horrible as this one, it must suck a lot for you to be somewhere like this-Seeing people like her.

She considered calling you to join her gang, but she is sure that you'll probably deny the offer- Physical confrontation was never your thing right? She can respect that.

Although you don't talk with her, or even interact with the other students at all, she did notice you were acting a bit more- Reclusive these days. Something was wrong, and sadly she would have to find out about it way too late.

Janette didn't know the twins personally, she knew they were rich and famous but- Yeah, she didn't really care about knowing anything about them, they're just some pretty faces amongst the others in the fashion industry. She does envy them a little bit, but tries to avoid anything relating to them since she feels self-conscious looking at their pictures. Now she has a new reason to hate their porcelain faces, they were stalking you.

They were stalking you and taunting you, and if you didn't do anything to stop them she would have already jumped in. They were alone, and honestly she doubts they have any idea of how to go one on one with someone- There is no way these brats have any experience in fighting, right?

Well, she didn't get to know that since they ran away after you sprayed their faces with pepper spray, clever girl.

She knows this is probably not the end of this, they did threaten to come back and hurt you for defending yourself. But you know- She doesn't plan on letting that happen, not again. Consider yourself lucky cause now you just got a new best friend who I set on protecting you.

Is there something wrong with that? Aren't you happy with being her friend? Well, you could just go to "girlfriends" if that's what you want- She wouldn't mind it at all.

Janette prefers to take care of you without you having to watch her beat someone's ass- But she could teach you a few things if you wished to, hey, spending time with someone so cool it's always nice, so of course she'll take every chance she can to spend as much time with you as possible.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Weird Asks That Say A Lot

I said I was going to just answer all of these bc of boredom,, and so here I am

1. Coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans? Teacups are aesthetically pleasing idc what anyone says

2. Chocolate bars or lollipops? Lollipops

3. Bubblegum or cotton candy? Cotton candy supremacy

4. How did your elementary school teachers describe you? I was told that I was a leader a lot, and was told that I was very intelligent. Ah yes, I suffered from gifted kid burn out in high school-

5. Do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups? Look, plastic cups are the best. Specifically the ones with the lids and reusable straws

6. Pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear? It truly depends on the day bc some days I would say goth and other days I’d say grunge, but most days- pastel

7. Earbuds or headphones? Earbuds

8. Movies or TV shows? TV shows bc- idk actually I’m just not a movie person

9. Favorite smell in the summer? I have a weird obsession with the smell of cheap sunscreen and I have no clue why

10. Game you were best at in p.e.? I hated gym in high school and rarely participated despite the teacher being irritated with me (truly she gave up after a few months bc I really did not care at all) HOWEVER- I went to town in volleyball and still enjoy playing volleyball v much

11. What do you have for breakfast on an average day? I don’t eat breakfast often,,, 

12. Name of your favorite playlist? Probably my Navy or Indigo playlist

13. Lanyard or key ring? Key ring 

14. Favorite non-chocolate candy? Anything green apple!!!

15. Favorite book you read as a school assignment? I actually genuinely enjoyed Romeo And Juliet tbh

16. Most comfortable position to sit in? I always curl up in a ball on the couch, but in a chair I manspread ngl

17. Most frequently worn pair of shoes? Nike slides <//3

18. Ideal weather? Between 50-70 degrees, sunny but not warm, being able to wear a hoodie and not be hot or cold

19. Sleeping position? I usually either sleep on my left side or on my stomach (my back once in a while when it’s hurting bc I’m a hag)

20. Preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)? I write on my phone more than anything

21. Obsession from childhood? Hm- I was really obsessed with High School Musical as a kid. My friend and I would put it on and lip sync to the songs and pretend we were the characters

22. Role model? Is it- wrong to say myself? Bc I feel like that sounds arrogant but genuinely it’s bc I’m constantly trying to better myself mentally and learn and grow. Idk I just am proud of who I am and look to myself when I need to find motivation

23. Strange habits? Strange? Idk if it’s strange but I’m constantly twiddling with the hem of my sleeves bc I love the feeling of it

24. Favorite crystal? Citrine 

25. First song you remember hearing? WH- bitch idk tf

26. Favorite activity to do in warm weather? Stay tf inside in the air conditioning

27. Favorite activity to do in cold weather? Stay tf inside in the heat

28. Five songs to describe you? To describe me?? Girl idk I'm all over the place. How about songs that resonate with me instead,,, Alive by Khalid, Paranoid by Lauv, Phobia by Dvwn, Fake Smile by Ariana Grande, and Breathin by Ariana Grande

29. Best way to bond with you? Truly I'm not very difficult to get along with, just don't be an asshole. Talk to me about psychology, current events, say Soobin is the cutest to exist idk it's not that hard

30. Places that you find sacred? I- hm. I'm not like a church person or anything so idk. Maybe just anything really old or places with very detailed and unique architecture

31. What outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names? I don't own many clothes,,, let alone nice clothes. I also don't really dress to impress I'd much rather be comfortable

32. Top five favorite vines? Oh god if I h a d to pick???? The lipstick in the Valentino bag, they were roommates, it's an avocado- thaaanks, jared 19, and uh,,, zach stooppp you're gonna get in trouble

33. Most used phrase in your phone? Tbh it's probably "girl what-" or "no bc"

34. Advertisements you have stuck in your head? That 877-CASH-NOW ONE JFC

35. Average time you fall asleep? Between 11pm-1am

36. What is the first meme you remember ever seeing? Probably the troll face one or smth

37. Suitcase or duffel bag? Suitcase

38. Lemonade or tea? I mix them together!

39. Lemon cake or lemon meringue pie? Lemon meringue pie bc I don't really like cake

40. Weirdest thing to ever happen at your school? Y'all I- went to a hs/college mixed school,, I've seen it all. Weirdest?? Idk but one weird thing I remember was when we were making whistles in art and some dude made a penis whistle 😭

41. Last person you texted? My best friend :))

42. Jacket pockets or pants pockets? Jacket pockets

43. Hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket? Hoodie 100%

44. Favorite scent for soap? I love soaps that smell like soap. Like ok duh I know that sounds dumb but yk what I mean? I don't want lemon or mint or whatever, I like the plain soap smell

45. Which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero? Fantasy

46. Most comfortable outfit to sleep in? Oversized t-shirt, no pants. I question anyone that is comfortable sleeping with pants on-

47. Favorite type of cheese? Feta!

48. If you were a fruit, what kind would you be? I feel like I'd be a pineapple and I have no clue why

49. What saying or quote do you live by? Not necessarily a quote but more of a thought: live for yourself, enjoy each day, do what gives you joy

50. What made you laugh the hardest you ever have? I have had so many instances in which I have laughed so hard I peed and to even attempt to name one is impossible

51. Current stresses? Making sure my family gets their vaccines and stays safe

52. Favorite font? I don't think I have one? Anything except comic sans

53. What is the current state of your hands? What does this even mean 💀 I mean,, they're holding my phone, cold, and my nails are unpolished

54. What did you learn from your first job? That people are assholes but I'm capable of not giving a fuck bc life is not that damn serious

55. Favorite fairy tale? Is The Three Little Pigs considered a fairy tale?

56. Favorite tradition? Putting up the Christmas tree with my mom :( it's always a lot of fun

57. The three biggest struggles you’ve overcome? Depression, grief, and hopefully one day- smth I'm currently dealing with

58. Four talents you’re proud of having? Makeup!! But also: singing, crying on command, and tying cherry stems with my tongue

59. If you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be? Sick of these bitches

60. If you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be? I don't watch anime so idk

61. Favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.? It's this line from Eleanor & Park: "Eleanor was right: She never looked nice. She looked like art, and art wasn't supposed to look nice; it was supposed to make you feel something."

62. Seven characters you relate to? Holy hell, 7?? Probably won't get that many but hm,,, Darlene from Roseanne, Hermione from Harry Potter, Emily from Pretty Little Liars maybe?? Idk I suddenly blanked

63. Five songs that would play in your club? As if it's Your Last by BP, anything from SHINee, anything from Ariana, also anything Rihanna, just a bunch of women tbh

64. Favorite website from your childhood? FUCKING WEBKINZ BRO

65. Any permanent scars? I have a few on my arms idk where they came from tbh, I also have one on my hand from my sister 🧍🏻‍♀

66. Favorite flower(s)? Sunflowers!!! I also really love lilacs 💔

67. Good luck charms? My dog's collar that I wear as a bracelet

68. Worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried? Licorice-

69. A fun fact that you don’t know how you learned? It takes repeating a piece of information 12 times at random to memorize it completely

70. Left or right handed? Right

71. Least favorite pattern? Fucking chevron- and realistic camo, and anything with the American flag

72. Worst subject? Yall im awful at history. American history, world history, all of it-

73. Favorite weird flavor combo? Either pickles and peanut butter or cheese and grapes

74. At what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen? I'm stubborn but also always in pain so I've become numb to a lot of body pains. I have to be at like a 7-8 before I take smth otherwise I'd always be taking it

75. When did you lose your first tooth? I was probably like 5 I was definitely in Kindergarten

76. What’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)? I fw baked potatoes

77. Best plant to grow on a windowsill? I have a love for succulents

78. Coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store? Oh my- I don't drink coffee but coffee from a gas station

79. Which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo? Driver's license for sure

80. Earth tones or jewel tones? Jewel tones

81. Fireflies or lightning bugs? I say both,, but I think I say lightning bugs more

82. PC or console? PC

83. Writing or drawing? Both

84. Podcasts or talk radio? Podcasts definitely

84. Barbie or polly pocket? Barbie

85. Fairy tales or mythology? Fairy tales

86. Cookies or cupcakes? C o o k i e s

87. Your greatest fear? Losing people I love

88. Your greatest wish? To live comfortably and be a great mother

89. Who would you put before everyone else? My family

90. Luckiest mistake? Guessing on 90% of a test and getting an A 💀

91. Boxes or bags? Bags are easier to carry-

92. Lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights? Fairy lights!!

93. Nicknames? Sam, Sammi, my sister calls me Sams, my best friend calls me Bub, and my gf calls me Baby if that counts- 👀

94. Favorite season? Fall omg it's gorgeous and has perfect temperatures

95. Favorite app on your phone? ✨tumblr✨

96. Desktop background? Its literally a pic of Soobin, Taehyun, and Beomgyu

97. How many phone numbers do you have memorized? Like 4-5

98. Favorite historical era? The one where white people learn their fucking place and stop being racist, homophobic, classist, sexist, all the -ists and -phobics,,,, so none. Fuck history :))

Witness : 26

Not Right

new moodboard created by @iheartsebastianstan​ Thanks to them and to anyone who wants to create one of their own or some art, I would be eternally grateful. You all are so amazing!

Character(s): dark!Bucky, dark!Steve, too

Masterlist

Warnings: this is a dark!fic, it contains non/dubious-consent elements. Some violence as well at the beginning. It goes without (and with) that this is 18+.

In this chapter, sex and internal conflict.

Summary: The reader feels her world closing in but it might be too late to save herself.

Notes: Okay, thanks to everyone and their patience with this series. Honestly the response has been overwhelming! I love you all so much and it's really meant a lot considering my recent mental episodes. I hate that I have so many issues and they always pop up at the worst times but this series makes it easier to deal with. I know y'all have come for the story and don't need a whole dump here but I think it's a little obvious that I've poured a lot of myself and my internal struggles into this one and so it just means so much more that it has had such a big response. Again, thank you for listening to me ramble and supporting this series! <3 Now, onto actual business here! This chapter has some juicy little tidbits (and I don't mean sex) just something y'all have been waiting for... I hope you all enjoy :) Tomorrow will be the second chapter of Happy Together so brace for some dark!Steve and Saturday will be another one shot requested for the raffle! (Again dark!Steve) so we have quite the line up. Anyways, as usual, comments mean the world to me. It's nice to have feedback and I just love hearing all your reactions and thoughts. :D You guys are so wonderful.

Please, reblog and or reply with your thoughts!! I’ll see you in the next one. :)

As promised, Bucky and Steve left town at noon. You were relieved to see them go but the looming threat of their presence had distracted you from the dark thoughts which now began to rise in the back of your mind. Vague memories of words exchanged; about you, about others. Gill... you knew nothing about her, only that she used to sit at the very desk you were now behind. And, if you were to guess at it, she had also been involved with the two men who had you caught in their claws, though you couldn’t say how.

 You tapped your fingers on the desk as you scrolled through Pepper’s inbox, weeding out the junk, responding to those which could be generically shrugged off. It was second nature now. Almost fun. You imagined what it would be like to be her. On the arm of one of the most powerful men in the world, protected from others who might wish you harm. You were in almost the complete opposite station in life. You were trapped under the thumb of one who saw you as nothing more than a prop and you had little means of helping yourself.

     “I promise, she won’t be another Gill.” “She’s not another one of your toys…”  

 What had happened to your predecessor? The black text blurred past your vision as you thought, scrolling the wheel as you thought back to your nights spent with both super soldiers. As much as Bucky set your nerves on fire, Steve was utterly terrifying. He was able to flip a switch, turning from the smiling office colleague to sinister masochist. You could feel his hands on your neck then. Had Gill felt the same fingers against her flesh, the same dread mixed with airiness? Is that why she had quit?

 You sat back, looking around the office. There was no one there but you were ever paranoid. You leaned on the chair, glancing just down the hallway as an idea tugged at your mind. You took a deep breath and moved the mouse, hovering over the “sent files” link before clicking. Pepper’s emails, including those written by yourself, appeared before you. You began to scroll down, watching the date revert until well before your first day. And then you found it. An email with a familiar name upon it; ‘Daily Roster’ fwd. Gill Nazar. You stared at the name, another glance around the office.

 You clicked and let the air out of your lungs. Nothing beyond the usual message; a list of names, times, special instructions. It was the same thing you received every morning. You clicked out and opened up the browser, typed in the former secretary’s name and hit enter with a rush of a anxiety. As the little circle reeled beside the cursor, so did your head. The results popped up and your heart dropped. You clicked on the first link; a headline already forgotten.

 ‘MISSING WOMAN: FORMER SECRETARY ON THE RUN?’ It was the most recent story on Gill, declaring that previous reports of her disappearance had been exaggerated and she had in fact merely run away from her boring office life. You explored those which preceded that, every day back in time building the heat along your spine. There were no clues which could have led to her discovery and the last article gave only an account of her wild college days, not far behind her, and a questionable quote from a “friend” to support its thesis. Yet the case had been closed and no one was looking for Gill Nazar any longer.

 It just didn’t add up and you suspected your inevitable disappearance would make even less sense. The thought chilled you to the core and a sudden wave of terror came over you. If you didn’t get out soon, you would be the woman pasted across the articles, but only for a week before you were buried beneath the next week’s headlines. Another would sit in this chair and contend with the super soldiers.

 You were shaking. Your eyes were glued to the screen and you couldn’t stop the panic as it filled your veins like ice. You needed to act soon or be lost forever.

A couple days later, after the revelation that Gill hadn't necessarily quit for a better job or due to a sudden windfall, you were still trying to figure out how to process the information. You couldn't say for sure that she was dead but it wasn't an unlikely conclusion either. The way Steve and Bucky spoke about her as good as confirmed your suspicions. And if her fate was so shrouded in mystery and fatalism, what then would yours be?

 This wasn't just something you could forget but you could try to suppress it, at least distract yourself from it. It all seemed pointless now that your fate was as good as confirmed. Even as you played along you weren't promised any other end but that which you had tried to barter yourself out of.

 Currently you were in the middle of a convenience story, your arms filled with a multi-pack of gummy worms, gummy bears, and sour keys. The endorphins afforded by such an indulgence might be enough to ward off the shadow which loomed over you. A couple chocolate bars were added to your load and you dragged your feet up along the last aisle. Your eyes caught shiny plastic packages, hung on security hooks, and you skidded to a halt. You tapped your toe and looked around.

 You stared at the flip phones. ‘Burners’ they were commonly referred to as by dealers and similar criminals. You chewed your cheek, the wheels slowly beginning to wind on your head. “Excuse me,” You called over to the cashier, bent over the daily crossword in the newspaper. He almost reminded you of yourself and your doldrum work. “Can I get two of these phones please?”

 He pushed himself away from the counter and came out from behind the lottery tickets and gum to shove a round key on the hook. He unlooped two and brought them up to the counter where you met him on the other side. You set the rest of your wares before him and he punched in the items dully. He seemed rather unfazed by your purchase but you gathered a place like this would have shadier types than yourself frequenting the joint.  You accepted a plastic bag and and took your haul out onto the street. Finding your car, you slid inside and started the engine, a plan piecing itself together in your head. Well, nothing substantial but a line of communication. A way to protect yourself and your mom when an escape presented itself.

 Back at your apartment, you took out the twin phones and charged them. You activated them with a set of fake names and typed in a message from one to the other. You left it unread so that the notification still showed.

     Mom, text back when you get this. Y/N.  

 You would buy a parcel tomorrow and send it without a return address. That way Bucky couldn't track it. You felt an odd sense of accomplishment, a fragment of your independence secreted away. Even if you were caught out, you had tried.

 You dumped the packaging down the building's chute and hid the phones beneath your kitchen sink, just behind the trash can. Just in case. You never knew when Bucky would return and he always seemed to drop in at the most inconvenient times.  Your suspicion proved prudent as you slept heavily that night. No longer did the sense of doom hang over you so darkly and you dozed quite comfortably in your own bed. The morning after held a simple task and a rare sliver of hope.

 But you were roused to half-slumber by a distant sound. There was a presence in your room thought your mind refused to retreat from its respite, instead you listened as if through a tunnel. A series of rustling, metal clinking, and muted footsteps. The mattress dipped beside you and a warmth snaked around your waist. At last your eyes snapped open and you grabbed the hand tucking itself under your side.

 “It's just me,” Bucky's whisper was not as comforting as he would have hoped. “Go back to sleep.”

 You tensed against him, not expecting such...gentleness? He wasn't forcing your legs apart or holding you down. In fact, he was giving you a new option. You would take sleep if it saved you from his usual tendencies.  The rest of your night was spent in a shallow sleep, the presence beside you kept you from sinking back too far. In the back of your head you wondered why he was there. After days away on a mission he had decided to show up at your place in the middle of the night and slink into your bed like some long-awaited lover.

 Still you resisted consciousness if only to avoid the answers to those questions. You were woken however against your will. Your mind still shrouded in drowsiness you grumbled as a hand pushed its way between your legs, sliding up your thighs, careful circles drawn along your clit. It was almost relaxing, the warm nestled in your pelvis as the fingers carried on. It was only as the grunt rasped in your ear and you felt the prodding along your back that reality slapped you.

 Bucky was spooning you, his hand squeezed between your legs as he teased your clit, your shorts gone. Your own hand shot down to try to stop him but a soft ‘uh uh’ kept your from doing so. Slowly, he shifted away from you, his fingers still tugging at your core, and rolled you flat onto your back. He pushed your legs apart and you let them splay open, wondering if this was actually some twisted nightmare. A most confusing one indeed.

 His beard tickled across your shoulder and along your neck, his lips laying sweet pecks along your skin. Your heart was hammering in your chest. What was he doing? This had to be some trick. To be so gentle with you he must have been planning something awful. His nose brushed across your cheek, his eyelids hooded over his blue eyes as they closed and he leaned closer. His lips were on yours before you could turn away and your eyes were wide open. He was kissing you. He had never done that before.

 His fingers continued to pluck at you and you moaned despite yourself. The heat was pooling just so and you couldn't resist the flames licking along your thighs. You shuddered against him and he removed his lips at last so that you could turn your head and pant at the sunlit bedroom. He pressed his head once more into the crook of your neck, bringing you to a most disconcerting climax.

 As the after waves took you, Bucky climbed on top of you, replacing his fingers with his cock, running his tip along your folds before slowly entering. You gasped. You wanted him to stop because it felt so unfamiliar, so wrong, and yet you wanted him to keep going. The intimacy of his actions was both long-missed and entirely unsettling. You craved it, just not from him. Not in this circumstance. His breath was hot against your neck as he began to move within you, one hand on your hip, the other tangled in your hair, cradling your head.

 You tried to resist the tingling his touch was sending through you but your mind was too tired and your body weak. You gripped his bicep as he moved against you, your nails digging into his flesh as you fought him and yourself. There wasn’t any real strength put into it as you felt like jelly beneath him, every thrust sending a star across your vision. Your eyes rolled back and you let the haze take you, your name ringing in your ears as you met with yet another orgasm.

 Bucky grunted your name low in your ear, bringing you back to the moment. You felt the warmth spill within you, his cum filling you and seeping around his cock. He collapsed atop you, not moving as he breathed heavily, his head just beside yours on the pillow. The glow of your lust began to fade, the oddity of reality like a bucket of cold water poured over you. You could handle him treating you like a toy, tossing you around, manhandling you, calling you a good girl, but you couldn’t do this. Him touching you so softly as if he actually felt anything but pure spite for you, saying your name…

 “Get off of me,” You whispered, “Please, please.” You began to panic, smacking your hands against his shoulders as you begged him. You couldn't breathe. “Please. Get off!”

 He pulled out of you, sitting back with visible shock on his face. You quickly rolled over the edge of the bed, barely getting your feet under you before you met the floor. You tripped over yourself as you scurried out to the washroom, slamming the door and locking it. You felt his cum dripping down your leg and you cringed. You stepped into the tub, turning on the shower head and detaching it as you frantically tried to wash him away. It was all wrong. He hated you and you hated him. That was how it worked.

 You cranked the faucet off and dropped the hose, falling back against the tub as your body shook. Your top was askew and splashed with water, your bottom half chilly from the cooling drops across your skin. You closed your eyes and swore aloud. Your plan had to been to bide your time but how much longer would you have?

tags: @they-call-me-le @holylulusworld  @petit-funsize @alexakeyloveloki @ladyofmyst @kellyn1604 @thelostallycat @grayxswan @collette04 @butteryoptimisticpeanut @buckycaptspideypool @blackpantherimagines @lilithhellfire @captainfreecandyvan @spaghettyrogers @phoenix21love @sathlens @iheartsebastianstan @lanabanana-86

2020

A lot happens in a year, even when nothing seems to happen at all.

There's nothing new my commentary about a global pandemic (and the particularly frustrating experience of living in America during it, even with all my privileges of continued employment, owning a car, rent stability, and living in the bay area) will bring to the reader, but I will underscore this: my feelings aren't that 2020 is any kind of exceptional year, but the point where, hopefully, we finally realize that economic/climate/racial injustice has been a terrible problem for a long time, and will continue to be unless we enact massive collective change. A vaccine is not going to make any of those issues disappear, and I worry the people in power (including myself) will return to their comfortable life styles as if the next decade won't be even worse.

Anyway, general DOOM aside (RIP man), here's my year in specific!

From looking through my photos: January was off to a great start. I celebrated the new year with dim sum with J/M/M, as per tradition, and went on a foggy hike through SF with my family that involved my dad and J getting hilariously lost. Soon after I went to Sonoma with J/M -- for all my years in the bay, I had never explored north of the Golden Gate that much -- which was a wonderful trip seeing J's hometown. I helped my lab demo research at the Exploratorium, started growing my own microgreens, and went on more (to become semi-regular and my only source of cardio through the pandemic) bike rides with my lab mates. I finally saw Hamilton (though feel a need to justify here how "cringey" I think LMM is). I went to Genesis, my first gaming-related convention, and it was a lot of fun despite seeing no women. I did so many things, was making progress on research (I think? I don't recall any breakdowns) and my mental health was generally good.

The doing of things continued in February. After not going last year, I went to the Tet Festival in SJ (which was kind of sad). I joined a Chinese learning club and a crafts club and had a delicious omakase. N visited again, I went ice skating and tried to rescue a giant rat from string lights, and saw the Sonic movie in theaters (which would have been my last movie in theaters, sigh). After having a drink at Wursthall with T, I felt terrible (to the unaccustomed reader, not only do I Asian glow, my hands/feet itch whenever I drink and I feel like I want to die), and decided that was the last drink I'd ever have -- thanks to the pandemic that's stayed true. I went on a ski retreat with the lab that felt particularly special (and not just because I didn't have to pay). We (I, in convincing my mostly Asian office) wanted to make 元宵 on the eve of E's birthday, but it turns out that a bunch of CS PhD students really love singing karaoke for like 4 hours straight into the night, and at some point I was like, okay y'all, time to go to bed. So I hosted 元宵 making at my apartment the next weekend, and we watched another Bong Joon-Ho movie (The Host) to celebrate his Oscar win. Typing this out, it seems wild that this was even in this year. I also did sh*** for the first time, hallucinated white woman in the edges of my vision like a GAN, ate a lot of shaved parmesan from TJ, and let go of any stress I had about the UIST deadline to the abundance of nature and the world.

I break from the month-per-paragraph format now because we all know what happens next. M and I biked around campus to film a virtual tour for the newly virtual admit weekend. Being in Gates that Friday (three days before the bay area wide shelter-in-place order) was the last time I'd be on campus for a while. The next day I adopted 3 wonderful baby rats (my biggest brain move this whole year) and the day after that I moved home. I was counting down the days until Animal Crossing and then J and I were duplicating royal crowns in ACNH. At some point my hair got really bad. The months blurred together. Adjusting to WFH was extremely challenging for me, someone who had structured their whole life around the "I only do work in the office and I leave the office when I get hungry for dinner" logic. I would stop working at 6pm but spent the entire afternoon mentally prepping myself to do maybe 30 menial minutes of it. I binged AtLA. I gave up submitting to UIST. In May I hung out in the park with J, who came home from Seattle, which was the first time I saw anyone outside my family. Sometime in there I decided to become a Twitch streamer and had a brief revival as DJ Noon before I felt bad for roping my friends into listening to my music and ran out of interesting songs I wanted to play. In June I, like many others, took to the streets. For two weeks I donated $50 a day to a different organization. I couldn't get any work done at all and spent an entire advisor meeting sobbing so intensely that they felt bad and canceled it after 10 minutes. I emailed the university and got my housing back for the summer and I moved back to start my internship.

The internship was the break I needed -- working with W was a godsend compared to the struggle of my advisors. After reaching new lows at the start of the summer, my mental health was sloping positively again -- working on a new research project helped clear the emotional baggage of the last one. I was also getting more outdoor social interaction -- I went to Ocean Beach with M/D, Half Moon Bay with my family, and going on weekly bike rides with M. At the end of June, M, my roommate, her boyfriend M the clown (there are now 3 different Ms) and I waited for negative COVID results before going on a 2 day camping trip to Mt. Lassen, which felt completely surreal, and, at that time, completely necessary.

The summer dragged on and my mental health, at some point, began to slip. If I were to graph it it would probably look like the inverse of COVID cases in the US -- gradually decreasing, but with high variance from the day to day. I got an embroidery machine, I attended a workshop on docu-poetics with CPH that was so ripe with information my brain physically ached, I saw my lab mates again for the first time as we sat in a very, very wide circle to say goodbye to a post-doc who got a faculty job in Israel. Most weekends I drove to my parents' house and would take J on various hikes around East Bay so he could better appreciate his roots before he went off to Boston for college. He was taking the Switch with him, so in August I bought myself a new one and planned out my entire second ACNH town, which kept me busy for a while -- but surprisingly not as long as I thought, as with planning (and money from my old account) the whole project took I think less than 50 hours. The camping itch came back and the day before my birthday, which was also the day before J would leave for Boston, we went camping at a small state park in San Jose where he got heat stroke and we slept on top of fire ants. The entire experience reminded me how much I disliked camping -- but what else was there to do? I had a wonderful (and long, bless the folks who stayed) Zoom birthday party where I wore a mesh shirt I made and covered with worms on a string. The day after my birthday someone backed into my car, which, following the demands of a racist letter from the HOA, was parked in guest parking. (Ultimately this would be a blessing of insurance money, as the damage was mainly cosmetic and the person kindly left their contact information.) At this time I was also unironically watching ASMR videos to fall asleep, so I painted a two Bob Ross style paintings, one in my virtual art club, to pay homage.

Fire season this year was worse than it's ever been. Being trapped inside the house combined with my roommate moving out at the start of fall quarter and now living alone marked the second downward spiral of my mental health. The bad days were more frequent. I TA'd a game design course, my first time teaching at this university, where many students messaged me to complain that their 95s were not 100s. In the end the lowest grade in the class was an A- and 20% of the class got an A+. At some point I submitted a summer-long project I did with J and S to CHI; it is so much easier to produce work when I do not have to wrangle with M. (This paper gets accepted, but my silly grad student excitement is tampered both by general "why are we still trying to publish when society is crumbling" pandemic feelings and the fact that CHI will not be physically in Japan next year.) Maybe once a month I go birding. I feel increasingly as if there is nothing novel in my life; I am tired of it all and my body feels fatigued even though I don't do anything with my days. Some days it feels like if I don't touch someone I will explode. My use of recreational marijuana skyrockets. I start doing exercise videos semi-regularly with A. I briefly consider moving to Seattle with E, who is about to defend, before it's clear we have, as always, different boundaries and expectations. I look for places in Sunset/Richmond with M to little success.

In October I somehow pull it together and organize student volunteers for a 3 day conference that requires waking up before 5am every day. I do nothing the rest of the week. After we get flu shots and I let someone into my apartment for the first time since the pandemic started, I help E move up to Seattle. The trip is comfortable and we get to take care of each other; this fulfills a need in me. On Halloween J and I dance in a soccer field next to a combination anarchist recruitment center and homeless encampment -- now cleared by the cops -- and eat a mud pie that is too sweet. On my last day in WA I ask E if he would like to have sex, as friends, and he politely declines. I am pleased with how easily I emotionally accept this answer, how through time and therapy I've finally come to cherish our friendship without always looking for what could have been. I am extremely nervous on the flight home, and it's the first and only flight I will take during the pandemic, and the N-95 squishes my face so my head looks like a balloon, but I have the privilege of free 5 minute weekly tests through the university and I collect another negative result.

In November I fully embrace the hyperfixation lifestyle. My brain, always looking for novel stimuli, has given up on doing work entirely and instead thinks of Thanzag constantly. There is one day where I play Hades for 8 hours and I feel gross, as if I've completed my regression to my high school self. It takes 90 hours until I achieve all my goals, and with no more runs necessary to roll for RNG-based conversational triggers, I finally feel a sense of freedom. (My Switch tells me I have used it for 580+ hours this year, which is more than double last year.) The second SwSh DLC is a struggle for me to complete as I do not find catching legendaries enticing. J comes back early from university at my urging to avoid the travel surge, a week before Thanksgiving, and starts living with me. This helps a lot. My next hyperfixations come overlapping and staggered: I write 25k words of a second iteration of my 2015 NaNoWriMo with the protagonist I had developed in high school before I get bored with the story and realize I need yet another iteration; I buy a combination air fryer pressure cooker and ask my parents for a functional vacuum and bidet as early Christmas gifts and become obsessed with immaculate inside living spaces. This carries on to re-decorating my room at my parents' house, after installing a shelf in the closet and a curtain to close it off from the living room, and spending roughly 30 hours over December break organizing and cleaning their entire garage--they have not thrown out a single piece of paper or article of clothing since they set foot in this country over 20 years ago. My therapist quits the practice and my relationship with my advisors improve. I watch a few housewife vlogs and make my own. I have the revelation that doing research in a pandemic is basically just like any other creative project -- no one really cares that much if I get it done, it's just harder to do than, say, putting together a vlog in a few hours. This shift in mindset feels life changing to me, having before thought of research more as work, a taboo thing to pursue in a pandemic, and when W compliments me for the progress I've made in both the system and managing our meeting with M I do not know how to respond because no one has ever done that before. In the last two weeks of the year I start tracking my time. In our last session (that I almost sleep through), my therapist tells me that I seem stable to her and she is not worried about me. I believe her.

In 2020 I made a marked point to let everyone know that I didn't have goals. It felt lofty to have personal ambitions in the face of everything at a global scale. With this said I will now revisit the 2020 resolutions I wrote last year: (1) Intentionally seek out love: absolutely not, (2) Do enough work such that I don't feel guilty: also no, (3) sew one thing a month: no, but in the end I sewed 11 things total this year so I was close, (4) improve my Chinese: this was actually the only thing that did happen, and now my mom and I have better conversations because of it and I'm so thankful.

In 2021, however, I feel like I finally have it in me to have goals again. They are simple. (1) Get laid. (2) Submit the two research projects I've been doing forever. (3) Commit to writing down my thoughts that make me think, "Oh, that's interesting, I should write it down." Ideas are unfortunately such currency in what I do.

Last year I wrapped up this post with some candid, but embarrassing, optimism. I will offer no such high hopes for 2021, but I do ask the reader if they have noticed that I switched tenses from past to present halfway through this post. And that's 2021: an incidentally unintentional, but then consciously controllable, shift to the present.

transcript of the speech i gave at Vassar’s black baccalaureate service

Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen, honored guests, and the Vassar class of 2017. Just saying that aloud made me feel old. Class of 2017? Most of y'all were born after dark-skinned Aunt Viv left the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. That’s wild.

I want to first thank you for allowing me to be a part of such a special moment in your lives. I am honored, privileged, and a bit in disbelief that you asked me of all people to give this address. I try not to have feelings, and I’m going to do my best not to cry today, but no promises.

I’m here to stand in the gap between you and your parents and guardians and any other elders in your lives that you stopped listening to because you thought they were wack and out of touch. I remember being in your shoes not TOO long ago, and it is my fervent prayer that something that I say here today will help you avoid some of the mess I went through. To be honest I’m a little nervous, but I figured there was no way could this be worse than when Betsy DeVos went down to Bethune-Cookman, so let’s get started. As you transition to life after Vassar the changes will be both inevitable and swift, so I’d like to begin by giving you some well-intentioned advice and warning you about the continued process of becoming an adult.

It means I frequently feel simultaneously overwhelmed and very bored. It means forcing myself to go to work even when I’m depressed or my anxiety is through the roof because I’m the grown up now, and the bills don’t get paid unless I do it.

It means sometimes sitting in my room alone and feeling like I’ve done nothing significant with myself.

It means going through bouts of just being unhappy and not having any option but deal with it.

So no, adulthood is not the “I can do what I want” paradise that it may have appeared to be when we were young, and I’m sure you can all see that clearly now, but there is even more growth ahead. Sorry if you thought the hard parts were over.

Many of you have likely never worked a full time job or completely supported yourselves before, so as you prepare to enter the professional workforce please understand that as a young person of color your biggest asset will likely not be your intelligence, work ethic, or creativity. It will be your ability to make the white people around you feel at ease. You’ve probably already been honing this skill during your time at Vassar. No shade. Lord knows my years in college in Oklahoma prepared me in the same way to deal with my bosses and coworkers. You will be tested the first time a colleague complains to your supervisor about your “unfriendliness”, when really you were just trying to meet a deadline and didn’t care to hear about Susan’s cat and its vomit. Or the time you collaborate with a group and when the work is presented to your boss, your contributions have been conveniently erased or “mistakenly” attributed to someone else.

There have been many times that I had to sit back at work and bite my tongue while a white male coworker skated by with few responsibilities and even fewer repercussions. This is what it’s like for most of us playing the corporate game. Keep the white people at work comfortable in your presence, and things are magically easier. Force them to see the blackness in your humanity, and watch the complaints to HR pile up.

If you feel like you are being unfairly targeted or punished at work, put those in feelings in writing and back it up with some proof before emailing it to the people who need to know. That’s right - I’m telling you to go full White Woman in the workplace. Learn now to trust your gut. Know that if something FEELS off, it probably IS off.

When things were getting rough at a previous job of mine and I suspected something shady was going on, I started carrying my iPhone all over the office and using the Voice Memo app to record what was being said when I wasn’t in the room.

I kept my own meticulous records of what was going on and those files ended up saving me in a major way. I’m thankful every day that I didn’t ignore my intuition about that job. Sometimes we get those sneaky feelings and think we’re being paranoid when it’s really God (or the universe, or your personal higher power, whatever you believe in) trying to warn us about the dangers ahead. There have also been plenty of times that I didn’t listen to that intuition at all and paid the price dearly. Please learn from my mistakes.

I dated a girl back in 2008 or 2009 (the years all start to run together after a certain point) that we’ll call Ashley. Ashley was fine, played basketball, had a nice car, great job, and most importantly - was taller than me. But there were lots of things about her that didn’t add up. Like how she claimed to be an engineer for Apple, but we lived in Oklahoma City which had only just gotten an Apple retail store at all the year before. Or how she claimed to be my age, but her driver’s license said she was born three years before I was. (She claimed it was a mistake at the DMV that she never got fixed). Or how she constantly gave away fancy things like Louis Vuitton purses and Gucci and bought an SUV back when gas was like $5.32/gallon and not even rich white people were buying SUVs. The list goes on and on.

There was a lot about Ashley that should have been a red flag, but I didn’t care. She was fine! She took me out all the time and seemed head over heels for me and opened doors and held my umbrella so I looked past the sketchy job thing and the fact that she was blatantly lying about her age and everything else. The universe gave me so many chances to walk away from that situation, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. If I am honest with you now, it’s because I never thought someone who looked that good could be attracted to me. If I lost her, I’d never get anybody that fine again. When she got a new job as an “engineer” at a bank, she asked me to come there one day and open an account so she could deposit a check into it. Now don’t get me wrong, I was definitely a fool back then, but that just felt like it should be a no. And so for the first time in our relationship, I told her no.

She let it drop, and I pretended that nothing was wrong and kept dating Ashley despite the millions of warnings the universe was tossing in my direction until I couldn’t ignore them anymore.

A few weeks later, I was home asleep when she pulled up at my house at 3 AM (problem number one) and told me she’d been arrested for embezzlement and her dad had just bailed her out. She claimed that it was all a big misunderstanding, but when I put two and two together I realized that she’d asked me to come to the bank that day so that she could pull off her little stunt and blame me if she ever got caught. To say that I was hurt by that betrayal would be a massive understatement. I couldn’t believe someone I loved and trusted so much could have treated me that way. Had I been even just 2% dumber I’d probably have a record right now because of that girl. I let the idea of loneliness and solitude keep me in a situation that I should have left months earlier, and it almost ruined me in a permanent way.

I tell you that story because my friend Kid Fury and I give out a lot of advice on our podcast, The Read. Most of it is about relationships and I get a lot of feedback from younger women who say things like “Wow, I wish I was as reasonable as you are about relationships” or “I wish I was okay with being single like you guys seem to be”. But I didn’t always make smart decisions when it came to love. I wasn’t always okay with being by myself and I didn’t get to this place overnight.

What I DID do was learn from all the ways that I messed up and spent time alone after every relationship to work on myself. From Ashley in particular I learned to always trust my instincts, and these days I spend a lot more time vetting people before I decide to date them. That’s not foolproof either, because love is always a gamble. You never know how things will turn out. The difference now is that I listen to the warnings the first time I hear them.

Since we’re already on the subject of relationships, I want you to know that sometimes you will have to un-break your own heart. Sometimes what you thought was the perfect relationship ends and you don’t get any real answers or resolution or closure. Sometimes you will have to sit alone in your heartbreak and just feel every bit of that misery. Sometimes you will have to know when it’s over and be brave enough to end things before they can get worse.

I want you to know that because if you decide to not feel those feelings… if you decide to throw yourself into sex or dating or selling laxatives on Instagram instead of processing the entirety of what you are going through… all you are doing is delaying the inevitable. Your future relationships will crumble under the weight of your unresolved emotions. You are not doing yourself a favor by pretending that you aren’t bleeding. It is fine and good to develop hobbies to distract yourself from the pain and loneliness of a relationship ending, but make sure you take the time to really get through your breakup.

Remember that never getting married isn’t the worst thing that could happen to you, but marrying the wrong person could be.

For young women in particular, I want you to learn to put yourselves first. Learn to prioritize your needs. There is so much to be accomplished in your personal life when you are happy with yourself alone. As a wise woman once said, there is an essential part of who you are that only becomes alive in the place where romance ends. Women are so conditioned in this society to take care of others that choosing yourself can feel unnatural. It can be isolating, because believe it or not lots of people don’t think women have the right to see themselves as truly equal to men. Weak partners will not know how to handle a woman who puts her happiness above anyone else’s but choose yourself anyway, and never compromise just for the sake of not being single.

When I was around your age, LiveJournal was a big deal on the internet. If you aren’t familiar, LiveJournal was a site for keeping personal blogs and participating in communities with like-minded people and I loved it. I blogged on LJ for years and made internet friends that I still keep up with on Twitter today, and when I take the time to go back and read what I was going through in my mid-twenties I am always blown away.

An excerpt from September 6, 2004: “I figure, why break up with him for being a liar (and probably a cheater) when everyone I’ve EVER dated has been a liar/cheater. Obviously I am destined to be either alone or with a liar/cheater. No sense in breaking up with this one when all I’ll be doing is waiting for the next one to come around.”

YIKES! I read that now and see a person whose self-esteem was so low that she should’ve been single and in therapy. It’s hard for me to reconcile that girl with who I am today, but I got here. The things that felt fresh and dangerous and new back then are old roads to me now. You will get there too. But you gotta keep going.

Another quote from my journal, this one dated November 5, 2008: “I don’t even try, anymore, even though I want things to be better. I want to do and be better. But I don’t put forth the effort that I know is required of me and I don’t know why. I just let things get worse and worse and worse and one of two things happen: It’ll get so bad that I’m forced to do something to change it or it’ll blow up completely in my face. If I do eventually change, I never manage to keep it up so either way it goes my life is a constant cycle of fail. I wish I knew why I couldn’t be one of those people who learns to make it right.

P.S. What is up with Rihanna having all these good songs lately?”

I remember feeling that way A LOT - sometimes for days and weeks at time. But it’s funny to me now that I remember those feelings but not the daily work it took to get out of it. I just know that I kept moving. I talked to my friends about what was going on and faithfully asked the church to pray for me every Sunday and Wednesday. When that didn’t fix it alone, I broke down and found a psychiatrist. (Which I highly recommend, by the way. Mine have saved my life twice. #NoShame.) If you’ve never been in therapy before, it might surprise you how helpful a stranger can be when you feel stuck dealing with life.  And of course, I kept my journal. I kept writing. When my depression drove me to the point of feeling suicidal, I wrote my way out. But my journal wasn’t all tears and desperation and sadness. I laugh a lot too when I look back at who I used to be and what the world was like then.

Like this post from September 3, 2005: “Kanye West just got on TV and said ‘George Bush doesn’t care about black people’. Kanye West is officially my baby daddy.”

Or this one, from August of that same year: “I bought two fish, one male and one female. I named them Brad and Angelina. And I don’t think it’s any coincidence that they hump constantly.”

I encourage you to keep a journal and write in it as much as possible. I read a story on Humans of New York last year about a woman who has kept a journal every day since she started it as a class assignment in elementary school. Y’all, I would spend Beyoncé ticket money to be able to go back to 1996 and read my thoughts on being in 7th grade and what the Oklahoma City bombing was like for us living 90 miles away. I would spend VIP Beyoncé ticket money to be able to go back to high school and read the daily thoughts of a girl who was struggling with bisexuality and living with a very religious family in the middle of the Bible belt. So yes, please keep a written record of your life. One day it will be invaluable to you.

Take a lot of pictures of yourself and of everything around you, even when you think you look terrible. I don’t mean that you have to post them on Instagram or Tumblr every day, but no one ever grew older and thought “Damn, there’s too many photos of me lying around from when I was young.” The moments you are experiencing now will layer themselves into the person you grow to be. It’s a lot of fun to look back on trips that my best friends and I took in our mid-twenties and cackle together over the memories. When I was your age, camera phones were only just starting to become mainstream and it was a bit of a pain to hold onto lots of photos. So take advantage of the times we are in now. Save all those snaps to your camera roll. Record videos when you and your friends are just hanging out being goofy. Take those selfies, even if you think they’re ugly, and know that one day you’ll look back and touch the pixels of your 23 year old face and wonder where the time went.

One day, if it hasn’t come already, it will really hit you that you’re not one of the kids anymore. One day you will look around at your family and you will now be in the position that was always previously occupied by your parents, aunts, and uncles. Those kids that your siblings and cousins have? They get old fast! It is a cruel trick of life that childhood seems to drag on forever while adulthood flies past. Nothing prepares you for the realization that your parents are whole, complete people who had entire lives that existed before you were ever considered.

You will know in a way that young people are not capable of knowing that time continues to move and the world keeps turning no matter what. Children cannot quite understand that the games and technology and places and people they build their memories out of will all change one day. When I was your age, MySpace and BlackPlanet were more popular than Facebook and George W. Bush was the dumbest president America ever had. So yeah, the world will change in ways you cannot begin to imagine. You will realize that if you are fortunate you will be old one day, but also that growing older means learning different ways to say goodbye. One day it will be you turning up the brightness on your phone and increasing the font size on your MacBook and looking confused at whatever new app or machine the children of the future have invented.

Everyone won’t leave Vassar this weekend with a great job lined up in the career they’ve always dreamed of and go on to live happily ever after. If you’re like most of us, you will spend a significant amount of time being overworked, undervalued, underpaid, stressed, and tired. I want to encourage you today to hold on through the times when life will frustrate you the most. Understand that you WILL mess up, and the way you respond to making mistakes shows your true maturity. Hold on to the friendships you’ve had for years. Take the time to figure out who you are and how that person is different from who you want to be. Learn when to cut people off and how to genuinely apologize.

Ages 22 to 32 were by far the hardest I’ve gone through in my life. Imma just be real with y’all about that. I had a lot of terrible relationships. I had knockdown drag-out fights with roommates and best friends. I had terrible jobs and even worse bosses. My health wasn’t always great and I stopped trying to take care of myself. Depression and anxiety seemed to rule my days more often than not.

But if I hadn’t held on, I never would have worked up the nerve to move from Oklahoma to Harlem. I never would have started doing The Read with Kid Fury, which changed my life completely. I never would have been able to travel the world doing the work I love. I never would have found the real happiness and true peace that come with both loving and liking yourself.

Understand that your next steps into adulthood begin now, and that you cannot get to the rewards life has in store for you without walking the journey. (Unless you were born a cis-straight white man, and then the world is your oyster.) When I look back over the past decade of my life, I see a lot of struggle and heartache and days that I had to collect coins from the bottom of my glove compartment to scrape up enough money to find dinner. And now that I’m on the other side of that mountain I see how every last one of those days I spent hurting and miserable led me to being right here. I had to learn to trust the process laid out for me. I had to learn to let my dreams shift into my destiny. Like Oprah says, I learned to lean in with the universe instead of fighting it. So as you prepare to tackle the changes heading your way, do your best to hold your head high and remain true to yourself. Remember to hold onto your values, your ethics, and your purpose. It is these qualities that will successfully guide you through life.

I’ll leave you with one last excerpt from my journal, dated January 20, 2007: “My ex-boyfriend just moved to Harlem and he gets on my nerves talking about how great the east coast is. I really don’t give a damn about the east coast. I would never move to NYC, but maybe that’s just me.”10 years later, I can tell you that 24 year old me couldn’t have been more wrong about what she would or would not do and how her life was going to turn out. So have your dreams and goals, but don’t be so attached to them that you miss out on your purpose.

Congratulations to you, the Vassar class of 2017, and to the parents, family and friends who have helped you arrive. Good luck to you and thank you for listening.

The Chronicles of M&M... FINALE

So, it's been almost 3 years since my last post of the Chronicles of M&M. After I posted that, a lot of people messaged me with words of encouragement or questions etc. Well, here's an update because I kinda feel obligated to post it. I've read stories where the author doesn't finish them or I can't find the next part and it tears me apart trying to figure out what the hell happened, so here's what happened. Be warned, it's a long one (also, slight trigger warning for self harm and weight issues) So on November 29th, 2014, my high school had its last football game. I'm not sure what information I put in my last posts, but I know I said he was section leader of the sousaphones and I was section leader of the flutes. So, this was our last football game of our senior year, our last marching band show. I had wandered up towards the sousaphones and was talking with them during our free time, pouting about how he was off somewhere else doing God knows what (I found out later that he was looking for me). Finally, in the last couple minutes of our free time, I found him by the side of the bleachers. We huddled together for warmth and he put his arm around me (squee!). I stole some of his fries and we huddled together until free time was over. After the game we went back to the bus and cuddled up under a fleece blanket, trying to get warm. This was the day we had our first date. We went to the movies after the game and saw Big Hero 6. I spent most of the movie either cooing at the adorableness of Baymax or begging him silently to hold my hand (he didn't until we were walking out of the movie theater). Fast forward to December 10th. We have our first kiss in his pick-up truck. I still know exactly what I was wearing. We spent every moment together that we could, either just sitting in the parking lot after school or meeting up at one of our houses. We went to our band's semi-formal (it was my first dance where I had an actual date) and we went to prom together. So finally, it comes to leaving for college. We were both really torn up about this. We were scared that, even though we would only be half an hour away from each other, the distance would hurt our relationship. During this exchange we both cried in each other's arms for a very long time. Eventually I mustered up the ability to give him what I had planned to. I took my special bow ring off of my finger and gave it to him. I told him that, whenever he missed me or was having a particularly difficult time at school, that he would always have me and that no matter what, I'd be close to his heart. He put it on a chain and never took it off. He fiddled with it constantly and I don't know if he ever took it off. Over the next year I fell farther and farther in love with this man. He was my best friend in the entire world. He knew all of my secrets and knew the best ways to make me smile. Like a naive teenager, I started visualizing our future, naming children, talking about how the house was going to look and where it was going to be. He was 100% in on this plan and often helped make them. Usually his were the more fun, outrageous ideas (i.e. a wave pool in the backyard) and they always made me laugh and feel good because he was so passionate about the future and he knew exactly what he wanted out of life. I couldn't imagine my life without him. We bought bus tickets to get from place to place as neither of us had cars. We went to football games and went ice skating. I met all of his friends and he met mine. Over the summer after freshmen year, we both had jobs that worked us hard, but we managed to hang out a lot. My favorite was when we went to a drive in movie at a place close by. We packed up an air mattress, a bunch of blankets and pillows, and watched the movies while snacking on kit-kats and Reese's. We watched the Independence day fireworks together, and I couldn't have asked for a better time. I couldn't imagine my life without him. Sophomore year of college things changed. He was able to have his truck on campus so that would, supposedly make it easier for us to see each other. We were both excited and hopeful that this semester would go better for both of us. However, he was insistent on focusing on grades and school. I could accept this. Around Halloween, we started talking less and less. We grew distant and I was scared. I didn't really have all that many friends in college, and wasn't involved in much. So I felt like all I had was him. And I thought I was losing him. When I came back for Thanksgiving break, he told me we needed to talk, and he met me at my house after I had a doctor's appointment (I'd been having a lot of health problems and I didn't know what the heck it was). When he pulled up he got out and he was crying. He told me he thought we should break up. He said we didn't have anything in common anymore and he wanted somebody who went outside more (I'm addicted to Tumblr, what the hell was I supposed to do). Anyways, we broke up, but kept talking. I couldn't lose my best friend like that. I was really upset that the reason he didn't think we should date anymore was the fact that we didn't​ have anything in common anymore. So I typed up all my reasons for why I didn't think we should break up. He said he'd think about it. And a couple days later (officially the 30th of November, the day after our 2 year anniversary) he asked me to be his girlfriend again. My life was back in order. I had my best friend back. Things went back to the way they were. It was almost like nothing had happened. The second semester started and with it came hell in the form of school and workload. We became very wrapped up in work, and after February, we practically didn't see each other at all. Spring break came and went (we had different times for break, which made things really shitty) and we were back in school. His birthday was in March so I figured I'd go back on birth control and surprise him for his 20th birthday (we are both consenting adults, deep breaths). But we didn't see each other for his birthday. Every time I wanted to see him there was some reason we couldn't. Exams or projects for his dorm council etc. We stopped skyping (it had been our lifeline for the past 2 years). My grades were gradually getting better after the hell my health had put me through, and even though I felt like a piece of me was drifting away, I figured that it would get better in the summer when we could see each other without school stress and homework. Fast forward to the last day of school. He had been out of school for a week at that point and at home for a week off before he started working at the same place he did last year. My parents spring on me that my dad had accepted a job in another state (the state we are originally from) and we were moving at the end of the summer. My heart drops and I realize that moving out of state wasn't going to bring us together. If anything it would do the opposite. So I did what I usually do when I don't know what to do and I'm scared and upset. I called my best friend. I told him what was happening, and I asked if he would just try, try and keep this up and work on it. I would still be going to the same college, so we'd be close during school, but I'd be living in a different state at other times. The silence I got from that was deafening. Finally it got out that he realized he didn't love me the same anymore. That he wasn't willing to put in the effort needed for this relationship to work out. And that maybe it wasn't meant to be. At this point I clarified that this was it, that we were over, and hung up, going to throw up in the bathroom and cry the rest of my guts out. Over the next couple days we continued to talk. I knew that this time it was over for real, and no matter how much effort I poured into it that it wouldn't fix it. But I still needed my best friend. Especially now that my family was moving. I was asking him reasons why and everything. Surprisingly, when I talked to him about things I was okay, but whenever my parents came to talk to me about something or offered that we go out and shop or whatever (looking at new colleges was a very big thing at this point) I would break down and regress back into the depression and slight self-harm tendencies that I'd gone through before we had moved to the state we live in now. But talking with him made it better. I could calm down, he could say something to make it all better. Eventually I got up the courage to ask the question that had been going through my mind, if him not being in love with me the same way had anything to do with my weight. He admitted that, although he didn't want it to, my weight had been a factor. Side-notes about the weight - When we started dating in high school I was just under 140 lbs. I was happy with my body and my weight. Then college. Everybody knows what happens in college. My freshman 15 turned into a freshmen 30, then a sophomore 30. Now I weigh approximately 190 lbs. I had been working hard and have lost 10ish pounds in the past couple months because I wanted to work on it. I wasn't happy with my body and it was getting really frustrating that I didn't have clothing that fit. So I had started to work on my weight. I knew that I didn't look the same as I did in high school. And I wasn't proud of that fact. This was something that I had shared with him frequently. He encouraged me to start working on it. I found a friend and we had started to work out together. Anyways, before y'all get all uppity about how my weight shouldn't have any say in the relationship and it doesn't matter what you look like etc, if he didn't find me attractive anymore, then he shouldn't have to pretend he does, right? He was upset about this himself, saying it made him feel like somebody he didn't want to be, who valued looks more than personality. I understand where he is coming from, and this won't send me on a spiral into eating disorders and such. Currently (it being just over a week since this happened), I am okay. I've started more vigorously adhering to a diet and have plans set in place for exercise. I've been accepted into a nursing program at a satellite campus for the college I have been attending for the past 2 years. I got a 93.3% on the TEAS exam (a nursing entrance exam where the national average is a 64%) which placed me in the 99th percentile of people who have taken it. This post isn't meant to bring in pity or sympathy. I'm not trying to gain attention for what happened to me or anything. I just wanted to finish out something I started almost 3 years ago and talk out what happened because typing all this stuff felt really good. If anybody is still reading at this point, feel free to PM me any questions or anything, I'd be happy to answer them. Anybody needing advice is welcome too, though I can't promise any professional advise or anything, remember, I too am merely a Tumblr addict and you may just get a response with a picture of a cat or a Harry Potter meme… Less than three, Me :)

The customer is king

Word count: 1349

Genre: Fluff

Summary: So you’re a waitress in a café and Pip works with you and then an old lady happens. Tell the world I slayed this summary.

Pairing: Philip x Reader

Au: modern coffee shop

Warnings: Swearing, Kisses,

Note: Reader is clearly female in this one. I really enjoy writing Philip, and I really needed this so. Yup. I also am toying with a part two of this, but. oh well. Maybe, if y'all like it. Also. Asshole philip is something I really need in life, yet fail to write. Sorry for this being so short. idk. Also get it it's called King's café because Philip studied at kings college!!

Being a waitress as the "King's café" was more adventurous than you first thought, as you applied for the job. Your Boss, Mr. Adams, was an arrogant asshole, but the person that kept you here was your colleague, Philip. He was a handsome, young guy and also a huge bitch. But you could live with that fact, because you enjoyed his presence. Now you were working here for almost two years, and you two had already gone through so much trouble, most of them because of overly disrespectful customers. But as Mr. Adams always put it: "The customer is king." Even if they complained about the coffee being two degrees too hot, or the amount of whipping cream on their waffles being too high.

Now was one of those times, where Mr Adams had to rant about your unacceptable behaviour towards said customers. "Damn it, I could fire you in an instant!", he shouted at you, and you scrunched up your nose, interrupting him with the words: " Well, what's holding you back?" You regretted these words almost instantly, but there was no going back now. The words already left your mouth, and there was nothing you could do about it. You didn't get an answer instantly. Instead, all you received was a clearly irritated sigh, and your boss avoided yur questioning gaze. "The customers.", he said, in a questionably reserved tone.  "What?" Your face showed confusion, and you clearly didn't understand what he meant by that. He didn't answer. Instead, Mr Adams dismissed you with a gesture of his hand, and turned away to walk towards his desk. When you left his office, his last words were still on the back of your head and you contemplated what they meant. Engrossed in your thoughts, you didn't noticed that Philip was standing next to you and caught you off-guard, as he tripped you up. But before your face could have an unpleasant meeting with the ground, Philip grabbed your arm and pulled you into his tight embrace. A few moments of silence passed in which you processed the events, before you yanked away from him. "Philip, why did you do that?", you snarled, wiping of imaginary dust from your apron. He loved to play pranks with you, especially if they involved such situations like the one right now. He grinned at you cheekily. "I was only testing your reflexes", he explained and made his way past you towards the counter. Following him, you led out an exasperated snort. "By making me trip?"  Raising his hands, he defended himself:"Hey, at least I caught you." While he was serving a customer, you started to dry a few dishes that you had grabbed from the sink. The café was unusually empty, but you guessed it was because it had just opened from lunch break. Less work for you, so you didn't complain.  You really loved the atmosphere at your workplace. It was a very welcoming, cosy place and had an nostalgic vibe to it. Over time, more and more customers came in, and eventually, you had to give up your position on the counter to wait the tables, but Philip and you both had enough time to jokingly exchange snide comments, whenever you gave him the orders you received. "Pip, get your slow ass over here and give me the damn tray already", you nagged, but he noticed you were only acting, so he took some extra time to slow-motion walk towards you, swinging his hips with every step he made. "My, my. Darling, it takes some time to get from here to you if you're weighed with such a burden like me." "Which burden?", you snickered, as you watched Philip slowly on his way to becoming the next rival of Beyoncé.  With an elegant motion, he passed you the tray and struck a dramatic pose. "The burden of beauty", he then whispered and blew you a kiss, which you happily returned, before taking the tray and bringing it to one of your usual customers, a nice old lady.  As you set down her coffee, she raised her eyebrows in excitement, and smiled, as if she knew something you weren't aware of.  "And, are you two already together?", she asked, and you couldn't help but laugh. It was the most frequent question she posed, but the answer was the same every time. "No, ma'am", you answered, "We are only friends."  You could watch the excitement fading from her face, and because you didn't want to upset her, you added:" Well, we see how it goes", before you left. It would be a lie if you said you hadn't tickled yourself at the thought of the young man being your potential lover. His bold personalty, the handsome freckled face, his bouncy curls. There were a lot of things you more than loved about him. But the two of you had a friendship that was already too deep, and you didn't wanna risk anything. But no risk, no reward. A sigh escaped your lips, as you pushed yourself past Philip. "What's wrong?" he inquired but you put him off. "Let's change tasks, my feet are hurting", you suggested instead. Philip stared at you doubtfully for a few seconds, till he realised that you wouldn't give him an answer, since you didn't even looked at him, but instead toyed with your apron. "Alright, fuck you too", he muttered, an although this was a part of his normal behaviour, you felt like he was a bit hurt. You were probably imagining it, he had no reason to be. The afternoon went on, and soon the room started to empty again, and only a few people remained, which would normally give you the time to talk with Philip, but he was busy talking to the old lady you had served earlier.  You turned away and occupied yourself with making a cup of tea. As you absently stirred a spoon of sugar into the hot drink, you didn't even notice Philip coming at you, a ten-dollar bill in his hand. No, you had completely drifted away in your thoughts, because you had contemplated whether Mr. Adams would have the guts to fire you or not. He had threatened you quite a few times already, but he never actually dared it. As you realised, that Philip was right in front of you, he had already gently placed his lips onto yours. In Shock, you widened your eyes at first before closing them slowly. Flustered, you didn't know what to say when Philip backed away, but he cracked a smile at you. "Cat got your tongue?", he teased and the only reaction you could give was a small nod, feeling the heat rising in you. Chuckling, he nonchalantly waved the dollar bill around and explained:"So there was this old woman, who said that if I kiss you she would give me ten dollars. And who am I to deny money?" "Oh."  You couldn't help but sound disappointed at the thought of him only kissing you because of the money. " So this was only a one ti-" You couldn't finish the sentence before his lips crashed onto yours again, but now you were returning the kiss passionately. You quickly entwined your arms around his neck, when a embarrassed cough interrupted the two of you. You slowly parted from Philip, but not without sharing a longing gaze, before you turned towards your boss, Mr. Adams. "What in the world are you doing?", he growled. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't fire you right now." Struggling to find words, you quickly glimpsed at Philip, but he didn't seem to be stressed at all. In the most relaxed manner you ever saw him in, he placed a hand on your shoulder and answered:" Because your customers mainly come here so they can watch us. Besides, we're only doing what a customer told us to do. And as you always say. The customer is king." Philips outrageous grin was almost unbelievable, but even more unbelievable was the priceless look on Mr. Adams face.

Hey y'all! I did this bit of creative writing for an online workshop and ended up really enjoying it!

---

When Charlie first met Patrick D’Souza in the tenth grade, the first thing he thought was, “No wonder he doesn’t have any friends.” D’Souza was always hesitant; he had this pained look on his face like he was dying to correct you about something but knew a million reasons why he shouldn’t. When he spoke, which wasn’t that often, he was terse. His words were sharp like a knife and he spoke like he knew better than you. Though, knowing D’Souza, this wasn’t exactly inaccurate. He always had his nose in a book, but not some Harry Potter novel or something, it was usually something about economics and it was usually thicker than the school textbooks. D’Souza never ate in the cafeteria, always preferring the company of a teacher over, what he referred to as the “mind-numbingly idiotic conversations of arrogant teenagers- or even worse, the self-deprecating ones.” He wasn’t self-deprecating. In fact, most of his peers would classify him as arrogant. However, no one really picked on him or befriended him, few even spoke to him. At first, teachers thought it was because he was black, despite the diversity of the school, and considered reaching out to his parents. But, after close observation, they realized it was just because he got into a debate with anyone who ever tried to start a conversation with them, and students just got tired of him. Charlie didn’t really care about the hostility, however, and struck up conversation with Patrick on multiple occasions. He didn’t like D’Souza all that much, didn’t pity him either. He was just curious. D’Souza never seemed like he was paying attention in class. He looked like he was focused on something better but still managed to get straight A’s the entire time, though every teacher mentioned something about his lack of social skills in class during parent-teacher conferences and on report cards. Eventually, they realized their efforts were futile. At least, until Charlie Cambell started showing up at lunch in their classrooms.

-

When Charlie thinks of Patrick D’Souza, he thinks of muffled snickers and judgemental snorts of laughter behind his sleeve. He thinks of long rants about how useless their shared physics teacher was while sitting on the empty bleachers at the high school long after dark. He thinks of the crackle of popcorn in the microwave and the soft melodies that Patrick played on the piano for him all those years ago. He thinks of loud delirious laughter derived from a moment that they couldn’t have recalled, but it didn’t stop their sides from aching as they sat together and talked about nothing.

Sometimes, he wonders what life would’ve been like if they had stayed in touch. If it would’ve been different, better. He thinks about graduation. The way that he was blind to how soon it would be until they had to go their separate ways, how fast it all happened. Charlie thinks life would be a hell of a lot worse if he still knew Patrick D’Souza, but that doesn’t stop him from combing through his yearbook to see if he was smart enough to write his phone number down. He wonders if this is how most people feel when they end up back in their childhood bedroom. If they feel this aching nostalgia for the worst years of their life. He hopes to God that they do; he’d hate to be torn up over someone like Patrick goddamn D’Souza.

Charlie closes his eyes and tries to think about anything else. He lets everything wash over him: the shuffles and conversation of family and people downstairs; the creaky floorboard on the staircase that prevented him from ever sneaking out of the house through the front door; the familiar buzz of the boiler that always kept him up at night, and caused him to frequently roll out of his window and bike to Patrick’s house. He thinks if high school was supposed to be the worst years of his life, he did pretty okay. Charlie sighs and looks down at the ten digits screaming up at him in neon green gel pen from the slick, mostly blank pages, of the signature page. He tells himself that he is perfectly calm and puts the new-old contact into his phone.

Five hours and a lot of contemplation later, he shoots off a single text. Hey. Simple, slightly pathetic, but still simple. Stupid, he belatedly realizes, when he gets a response. Who is this? Bracing himself for a whole lot of feelings, he types out: Charlie Cambell, from high school. I’m in town, visiting family. You wanna meet up? He holds his breath for no particular reason, and his heartbeat spikes with every movement those ominous three dots make before he gets a reply.

Sure.

-

When Charlie sat down with Patrick D’Souza eleven years after graduation at a coffee shop in Queens, he thought his once-best friend had been replaced by a clone. For one thing, the guy wasn’t drinking the disgusting ‘black coffee, no sugar, no cream, thank you very much’ that he ordered almost constantly when he was at the ripe age of seventeen. Instead, he had ordered, and this nearly gave Charlie a heart attack, because D’Souza ordered a goddamn pumpkin spice latte. The same drink that he claimed to abhor years before he was enjoying with gusto while sitting right in front of Charlie. But the most astonishing thing about Patrick D’Souza, besides the fact that he’d managed to maintain small talk with Charlie without bringing up politics, was his job.

“I’m a therapist.” Charlie gaped at him. The least empathetic, possibly most arrogant person he had ever met (and Charlie was friends with some absolute jackasses when he was a teen), with his hoity-toity books and his constant corrections of how you’re supposed to live your life, spent his adult years helping other people.

Finally, Charlie replied, “You’re joking, right?” Patrick laughed in response. Charlie listened to the sound; it’s so different from the subdued giggles of high school. This — this was an actual laugh. Loud and boisterous and a little embarrassing, but he looks at Patrick D’Souza and his wide grin and the telling flush barely visible on his dark cheeks but visible nonetheless and wonders why he didn’t stay friends with this guy after high school. Then, he remembers high school and realizes there were many good reasons for that.

“Well, I don’t blame you for saying that. I was kind of awful as a teenager.” Patrick winced.

“Kind of? You were a goddamn fool. I’d know, I was the one who had to deal with you every day for three years straight.”

“And whose fault is that? You could’ve left me alone anytime you wanted. Jesus, I don’t know why you even spoke to me, to begin with.” Patrick sipped his coffee and stared off into space; he looked like he’s pondering the universe, but Charlie would be unsurprised if he was actually thinking about food. He lets the silence stretch on for a few minutes before answering the implied question.

“For the record, I befriended you because I couldn’t dissect you like I could with the rest of the student body, and decided that was awful.” Patrick raised his eyebrows.

“Gee thanks,” Patrick took another gulp of his latte, “I guess I should be glad it wasn’t out of pity? I genuinely don’t know how to respond to this.” He looked a little bitter, but his voice was light enough that Charlie knew he hadn’t pressed any nerves.

“Kind of a dick move, but I was sixteen, and most sixteen-year-old boys make decisions that are made up exclusively of dick moves, so I don’t feel too bad about it.” Patrick snorted mid-drink, splashing a little coffee. Charlie grinned.

“Hmm, nice to know little has changed since I last saw you then.”

“Excuse you, I happen to be a charming young man. My nan told me so herself,” Charlie stated proudly with a playful smirk.

“Oh, Old Lady Cambell? Lord, I hope her dementia hasn’t let her believe her grandson is anyone other than the little shit he truly is. Please, I’ve met your grandmother; the only person who’s more aware of how awful you can be is, well, me,” Patrick replied, an easy smile on his face.

“Yes, I suppose you did have a front-row seat to the shit-show that was my personality in high school. I’d like to think that I wasn’t as bad as my mom says, but something tells me I was worse.”

“It’s me. I’m something. I’m telling you, you were worse.”

“Piss off,” Charlie exclaimed with a smile. “You can’t pretend like you were an angel back then, though. Judgemental idiot with dreams of being on Wall Street. Look at you now, drinking coffee at a Starbucks and reminiscing with old friends from school. Something tells me your younger self would be appalled at what you’ve become. What happened to that, anyway? The business, I mean,” Charlie asked, leaning forward in his seat. Patrick’s wide smile dimmed into a thin line. His eyes grew clouded and far away as he stared down intensely at his cup, brows furrowed and voice quiet.

“Um, sophomore year of college. My dad passed; car crash, drunk driver, you can put the pieces together. I took over for a few months, but years, and I mean years of preparation — ” His voice cracked a little. “I was in love with the idea, but only the idea. I memorized the information, I didn’t understand how hard it would be. I ended up signing it off to my uncle, and going back to an undeclared major my junior year.” Patrick paused with a sigh, and Charlie glanced up at him. 

The noise of their surroundings felt suffocating, too insignificant; Patrick was telling him about the death of his father and questioning his life’s purpose while people all around them were just happy to sit and live their lives in complete ignorance of the conversation. Charlie had the intense urge to stand up and yell at everyone for no real reason but pushed that down as Patrick continued. 

“I don’t think it was pressure from my dad, at least, not entirely. It was all internal. Pressure from me, to be the best and do my best and take over this great company and be the great leader and person I thought I had to be, y’know? It was this desire to reach this destiny that I thought I had to fulfill, this role I thought I had to play because it was the only role I ever knew. It never occurred to me that there were other options, and even when it did, I was too stuck-up to consider them.” Patrick stared up at Charlie, waiting for a response.

“I’m sorry, about your dad. I wouldn’t say he was nice, but he was a good person. How’d Dani and your ma take it?” Charlie said after a long pause. 

“As well as you’d expect. Aunt Teresa, the one who talks to trees, she came to take care of Mom for a bit. Everyone was in shambles, and Dani couldn’t do it on her own. They’re better now, after some gentle coaxing to find someone to talk to; Mom was convinced Father Lewis was enough, but I eventually got her to see someone. I’m seeing a therapist too, so the psychoanalysis of myself isn’t completely amateur.” 

“Better late than never, Lord knows you needed it in high school. So, why therapist? Any specific reason, or did you just throw yourself into the first degree you could think of?” Charlie asked.

“Well, it’s like you said. If I had a therapist when I was a teenager, I probably wouldn’t’ve had that mid-quarter-life-crisis. And, the whole point of being a therapist is helping people understand their emotions and deal with them. It’s a profession completely devoted to helping others. Plus, it’s definitely improved my social skills.” Patrick grinned, looking down at the table, and it seems to light up his face.

“Saying they improved implies you had social skills, to begin with,” Charlie joked, knocking his foot against Patrick’s under the table. They glanced up at one another, savoring the comfortable silence and chasing the last drops of caffeine in their near-empty cups. The conversation rose and dwindled with varying degrees of awkwardness for the rest of the afternoon until they were being kicked out by exasperated baristas and trying to stretch their time together so it was endless. Eventually, they parted ways with a promise for lunch the following Tuesday and a goodbye similar to a sickening couple going, “You hang up!” “No, you hang up!” before finally separating. And if they spared a few lingering gazes, well, it had been eleven years. 

-

Fin.

Solomon Thomas is the 2017 NFL draft’s most frustrating prospect

Retired NFL defensive end Stephen White takes a closer look at the Stanford pass rusher and sees a player who isn’t living up to his potential.

Solomon Thomas is the most frustrating prospect I’ve broken down in four years of doing this for SB Nation. There's not just one thing that is frustrating about him. There are a multitude of things.

Where’s the effort?

First, he runs hot and cold with his effort. Part of that is reflected in how Thomas doesn't always finish plays. Y'all already know how I feel about guys who don't finish.

I swear this guy has some of the most embarrassing lack-of-effort plays that I've ever seen. It would be different if he was getting Aaron Donald-type production, but you can't be walking on the film like this when you only have 4.5 sacks and two pressures in five games, Solomon Christopher Thomas.

Oh hell nawl, that just won't do!

When hand size does matter

Another thing that is irritating about watching Thomas' film is that he actually should have had more than just 4.5 sacks and two pressures in five games. He was damn sure in position to notch more than that.

But, this guy would seemingly find new ways to leave plays on the field in each game that I watched.

He would whiff when trying to tackle the quarterback after cleanly beating the offensive lineman, sometimes more than one, with a good move.

He would have his hands on the quarterback and his hands were either too small or too weak to hang on.

After my first watch of Thomas' tape, about three games in, I texted a friend of mine and said that either Thomas' hands are small or he has a very weak handshake because whether it was missing sacks because the quarterback would break free of his clutches or missing tackles on running backs who did the same.

There were just several times where Thomas got his hands on the guy with the ball but couldn't bring them to the ground.

Some of those missed tackles would have been big plays, sacks, tackles for a loss, or tackles to prevent a third down conversion.

I went back to look at Thomas' hand measurements after watching his tape to see if I was right about them being small. Wouldn't you know it, his hands measured in at 9 and 3/8 inches. For context, that would have placed him in the bottom 10 of the 59 defensive linemen at the combine.

This is one of those times where it actually showed up on tape.

A gifted athlete, but ...

My third issue with watching Thomas' tape is that as I was looking for his hand size I happened to notice the rest of Thomas' measurables from the combine.

He is 6'2.5 tall, 273 pounds — similar measurements to Jonathan Allen, Myles Garrett, and Derrick Barnett. Here's where it gets interesting.

Thomas ran a 4.71 in the 40 at the combine.

He had 30 reps on the bench.

Thomas jumped 35 inches in the air for his vertical.

His broad jump was 10.6 feet.

He turned in a three cone time of 6.98 seconds.

His short shuttle was a smoking 4.28 seconds, a top four time among the defensive line group at the combine.

This dude is physically gifted, and he checks off the boxes in just about every category you could want when it comes to measurables. Maybe you might want him to be just a tad bit taller, but hell, that would be nitpicking.

Thomas' combination of size and athletic ability means that he should have a lot of position versatility as well as scheme versatility. He played anywhere from zero nose to a wide five on the left side in the tape that I watched, and he flashed at damn near every possible spot.

But man, to be so talented and physically gifted, I would expect a lot more than just flashing now and then. Unfortunately, Thomas evidently doesn't give a fuck about my feelings on the subject.

Let me say this, though — some of Thomas’ flashes are fantastic!

I could make you a reel with just his highlights and have you convinced that he should be the top pick overall.

That's just how impressive some of his better plays are.

But his bad plays ...

Plays with the shitty effort ...

Plays when he misses the tackle ...

Plays when he shuts it down while being in position to perhaps still make a play ...

Plays where he gets pancaked ...

Those plays make you wonder if he's going to be a bust or not.

The talent is there! But the effort, man ...

Even Chris Jones last year, who wasn't nearly as athletically gifted, might've been a little lazy, but not this lazy. That's definitely not a compliment.

I write my notes freehand while I watch tape, but I wrote in all caps “BUT WHAT A SHITTY FINISH FFS” at the end of saying he did a good job initially on this play.

Point. To. The. Lie.

He was literally walking while the play was going on. That kinda shit just drives me up a damn wall. Let me say again, Thomas ain't that good to be able to loaf that much, great combine performance or not.

That kind of a lack of effort from anybody is appalling to me and probably to anybody who ever played for Larry Lacewell, Larry Marmie, John Chavis, or Rod Marinelli. But it’s especially galling coming from a guy like Thomas because you can find other plays where he is hauling ass.

That shows Thomas knows what kind of effort he is supposed to give on every play; he just doesn't do it.

Where was this kinda effort consistently?!

When his motor runs hot, Thomas can make plays damn near anywhere on the field. It’s just that he has way too many cold spells. He is gonna have to fix that shit.

The flip side, if you are a GM or front office type, is that the guy is immensely talented. If the light bulb every comes on and stays on.

Man, listen, I watched this dude run slap over guards while stunting inside.

I saw him spin around people.

I saw him knock one m’fer into another m’fer with another m’fer.

If he just learned to escape off a block on the edge, he might've had like four or five more sacks off that alone.

Instead, he frequently stayed stuck to those blocks, and gave up containment far too often

To be an edge player in the NFL, he will have to correct that. But it should be an easy thing to fix/teach. Key word, should. After a guy gets into the league, nothing is for certain.

However, he’s better as an inside player, anyway. If you can get him to be productive on the edge too, that's just the cherry on top.

But there is that word “if” again.

Thomas shows repeatedly that he at least knows how to defeat blockers both inside and out, against the run and against the pass. He ‘s a physical specimen with a decent level of technique. It’s going to come down to whether teams think he will fix his effort issues on the next level, and, since his hands aren't likely to grow any more at this point, if he can get his hands stronger.

If he can do at least one of those things Thomas could be a Pro Bowler three years from now. If he can do both of those things, I wouldn't be surprised at all if he was in the DPOY conversation three years from now.

But if he can't ... that is the question that GMs are going to have to wrestle with. How high is too high for a guy with this level of boom or bust?

I guess we will all find out on April 27th. I hope for his sake that Thomas makes the most of his opportunity. The sky is the limit for him if he does.

Thomas' effort will irritate some defensive line coaches, there will always be others who see the kind of talent Thomas displayed in college and fantasize about the kind of pass rushing monster they can turn him into if they just "fix" his effort issues and they pound the table for the team to take him. That doesn't always work out so well.

I'm just sayin’.

Since I don't have access to all-22 for college football games, I use the next best thing for my draft profiles and go to Draft Breakdown where they the TV copy of a bunch of top prospects' already cut up and ready to go. Also their site is compatible with the new NoHuddle app which turns your cell phone into a "cowboy clicker," which is pretty damn neat. For the purposes of this breakdown, I watched Stanford defensive lineman Solomon Thomas against UCLA, Washington, Arizona, Oregon State, and North Carolina. Those represented the third, fourth, eighth, ninth, and 13th games on Stanford's schedule last season, respectively.