i would say this pertains to me

Interview With Eric’s Friend

In the 18 years since Columbine, there has been a fair amount of new information about Dylan Klebold released mostly by his family. This gives us more insight into his mindset and what type of person he was. However, hardly anything new has been released by Eric’s family or friends. He remains largely a mystery, as his family and friends have kept silent about him. Now, I realize that the transition from child to teenager changes people drastically, but any insight into the mind of Eric Harris at any point in his life can provide a more complete view of who he was as a person.


 Can you tell me a little about your childhood up to the point you met Eric?
-How old were you when you met Eric Harris?
-Can you recall the first time you met him?

I met Eric when I was about 9 or 10 years old.  The first time I met him was during my first baseball practice.  I’ve already told you the story of that day, so I won’t re-tell it unless you’d like me to.

How close would you say your friendship was with him? Were there any defining moments in your friendship?

I won’t lie and pretend that we were best friends or anything.  He was a grade above me in school, so he had more friends that were in his own grade, so we only would hang out or talk during recess or outside of school hours.  We did stay over at each other’s house once or twice maybe.  In hindsight, the biggest thing that stands out is how he reacted when he accidentally hit me with a baseball at my first practice. It’s quite a thing to think that he was so upset and sorry that he had hurt me at practice, then fast forward to seeing him on the news during high school.

In a few sentences, how would you describe Eric’s personality during the time you knew him? Was he a nice person, or mean?
-Do you recall any of his interests? What sort of things did you two bond over?


He was a really normal kid from what I knew of him growing up.  He wasn’t some obnoxious kid, nor was he overly shy.  He was very vanilla, in a good way. Around that age, most kids liked playing outside since there were always so many kids living on the air base, and video games.

Where did Eric rank on the social totem of the elementary school you two attended? Was he considered popular? Unpopular? Somewhere in between?

My recollection of Eric was as a very middle of the road kid.  I never recalled him getting picked on during recess or by other kids in the neighborhood.  He wasn’t mean to other people, at least as far as I can remember.

Did you ever meet Wayne and Kathy Harris or any other members of Eric’s family? If so, what did you think of the family dynamic/atmosphere of the household?
-What was his relationship with his father like? His mother?
-Have you ever met Kevin Harris? If so, what did you think of him?
-Do you have any memories that stand out of the Harris family?


I couldn’t say what his relationship was like with his parents behind closed doors, but I remember his dad or mom being at little league practices and games, which wasn’t the case for all of the kids growing up.  I don’t recall his dad being “that guy” who would yell at his kid from the stands or anything like that (my dad was “that guy”).
I was never really around Kevin, so nothing stands out about him to me.
Our dads worked together in the military, so they already knew each other before Eric and I ever met.

Did he ever give you any indication that he was violent or unstable? If so, could you elaborate?
-Did he bully anyone in school, or was he bullied?


No, there was nothing I saw that would have ever indicated that he was violent or unstable, which is why it was so shocking to me when I saw him on the news.  I don’t recall him ever bullying someone or being on the receiving end of it.

Do you have any specific memories that stand out of Eric? We’ve heard about the little league story, I’m wondering, are there any other memories that come to mind?

I just remember him being a nice kid, overall. The little league story only stands out now in light of what happened with Columbine.  If not for that, I wouldn’t really have any story that stands out about him.


Did Eric ever speak about wanting to do anything violent, or said anything weird along those lines?

No, he was not an angry kid when I knew him.  I definitely would have remembered him saying something outlandish, even if Columbine hadn’t happened. 

Did you keep in contact with Eric after he moved away?

We ran into each other on occasion at Plattsburgh, since both of our families moved there, but again, he was at a different school and we didn’t see each other much.  No internet back then, so I completely lost track of him after Plattsburgh.

Are there any inaccuracies you have noticed in the media/culture surrounding the persona of Eric Harris?

I’ve only seen the part of Bowling for Columbine that pertains to the kids from Oscoda that were interviewed. I was off at college during that time, so I wasn’t aware of the interviews after the fact.  I wouldn’t have agreed to be on camera talking about it, because that’s just not who I am.  I will say that at least one of the kids interviewed seems a little “iffy” to me.  I know it’s bad to say, but Eric’s father was a high-ranking officer, so I have a difficult time believing that he would have been in the same social circle as some of the kids interviewed.   Not to say that Eric would have thought himself better than them, it’s just that he wouldn’t have been in the same circles by virtue of his circumstance as the child of a military officer.  I can’t say with 100% certainty that the people interviewed in the documentary were lying, but i’m skeptical.

What are your personal thoughts/opinions of Eric Harris and the Columbine massacre? What do you personally believe led to Eric and Dylan killing their schoolmates and then themselves?

Growing up in the air force, you move frequently.  After the base in Wurtsmith, we moved 2 more times.  At Wurtsmith and then Plattsburgh, I was a relatively popular kid and did not have any real social issues with people.  At the very last base we moved to, I was instantly a social pariah and picked on incessantly. It’s a weird thing to go from one end of the social spectrum to the other, just based on the air base you’re at, but it can definitely happen.  The last move completely scarred me socially and I still have issues based on the experience.  I think it’s completely possible that Eric experienced this when he moved to Colorado, possibly even before that, when he moved to Plattsburgh.  I rarely saw him there since we were in different schools.  It would not surprise me if he didn’t start getting bullied until after he moved to a new base.  It can be that simple that someone is a regular kid who gets along with people at one air base and then moves to another where you get bullied constantly and completely change your mentality.

Thank you all so much for your interest in this interview! Hope you enjoyed the read!

sirenja-and-the-stag  asked:

Please Hannigram and "Ssh. Stop fussing. I’m just braiding your hair.” ? : )

These are all coming out vageuly smutty tonight. Some post-season 3 hannigram.


Will sat behind the tub, sleeves rolled up around his elbows to keep them from getting wet as he rinsed conditioner from Hannibal’s hair.

When they’d first met, Hannibal’s hair had been ash brown shot through with strands of grey. He’d kept it so tidy. Slicked back hair, crisp suits, the picture of professionalism.

Now it was shaggy, curling around the tops of his ears and the back of his neck like the morning glory vines curled around their house. It shone in the warm afternoon light. Will felt as though he held liquid silver in his hands.

He separated out a few strands and began to weave them together.

“I’m not complaining about the attention, but I believe if you continue to rinse my hair my scalp may come off with it,” Hannibal said.

“Shh, stop fussing,” Will said. “I’m braiding your hair.”

Hannibal gave a long-suffering sigh, but Will could see the way the corners of his eyes were crinkled in a smile. He tucked the finished braid to the side and started another.

“If you keep growing your hair out it’s going to be long enough to put into a bun.”

“Would you like that?”

“Are you saying I get to have input on your personal style now?”

Hannibal tilted his head back to rest it against the edge of the tub. Will swept his fringe back for him, wondering if he could figure out how to french braid before the water in the tub went cold.

Hannibal shrugged, water rippling with the motion. “Whenever possible one must take into consideration their partner’s preferences, including those that pertain to personal grooming.”

“That’s a whole lot of words just to say you’re so whipped you’re letting me tell you how to do your hair.”

“I never said you get complete control. I only asked your preferences.”

Will rolled his eyes.

He combed his fingers through Hannibal’s hair, undoing one of the braids. Hannibal leaned into his touch. His eyes were closed, a small, satisfied smile on his face. Will half expected him to purr.

Unable to resist the temptation, he took a fistful of hair and tugged, yanking Hannibal’s head back so that he could kiss him, slow and deep.

His hair was just long enough for Will to begin to wind around his fingers and use to guide him to tilt his head this way and that. There was a special sort of pleasure that came with having Hannibal so completely at his whims with such a small point of contact.

Will had the brief image of winding a silver ponytail around his fist. Of using it to guide Hannibal to his knees. He groaned softly against Hannibal’s mouth.

“I think my preference,” Will said, lips brushing Hannibal’s mouth with every word, “is that you grow it out.”

Hannibal stared up at him with pupils blown wide; a mix of curiosity and arousal on his face. “Of course. Anything you like.”

 


Send me a prompt and a pairing and I’ll write you a little something!

Alien abduction experiencer, Suzy Hansen, recalls an episode as a child known to her as “the Grandfather,” a Grey alien mentor that she continually interacted with while on alien craft. She says, “The Grandfather told me he was about to transfer a “book” (a large amount of information) into my head. I could not access the “pages” of this book yet, but he assured me it would open up one day all by itself and I would be able to “read” the pages (the information would emerge into the conscious mind). However he assisted me to understand the information pertained to specific people I would meet in the future, and tasks I might complete with them.“ Part of the information conveyed to Suzy related to her unborn son, whom she was allowed to meet before his incarnation into a body-as a vibrant blue orb of light.

Source: ‘The Dual Soul Connection: The Alien Agenda for Human Advancement,’ by Suzy Hansen. p. 101-103

I was headed to work today, looked at the date, and realized today is the day, two years ago, that I full immersed myself in all that is CrissColfer and began to tip toe my way into this fandom. And what a crazy, fun, interesting, frustrating, sometimes sad trip it has been.  I think you all know, I consider myself, prior to finding this world, a naïve New Yorker. I was a fan of Glee, Klaine, and Chris and Darren for the entire duration of the show. But I never thought to look closer. It simply did not make sense to me that Hollywood would force an actor into the closet who was playing an openly gay character on TV.  

And so I accepted the narratives that were sold. Chris was dating a guy named Will that I really did not know much about aside from a few pictures and that Darren was very straight and had a girlfriend named Mia. While I was a fan of Glee and Klaine, I had no idea what fandom was. Sure, I was often reading the message boards on the Glee Forum, quick to read any spoilers as they pertained to our favorite couple. I will say, I would sometimes fall upon appreciation post of miarren and I could never really understand what there was to admire. Despite the fact that I believed it was real, and again, didn’t give it more than a passing glance, it always seemed off.  Something seemed wrong.  It started with a pic from Joey Richter’s Easter celebration at his parents.  There was a possessiveness to the photo that made me feel extremely uncomfortable and from that day forward, whenever a picture was posted of the PR duo, I really questioned the chemistry and the intimacy. But again, I didn’t look any further.

 Then on March 24, 2015, the infamous twitter hack occurred.  Being a curious person, when I read the tweet, I was instantly curious. After all, not too long before, it appeared that both Lea and Chris had been hacked and it led me to wonder what Darren had tweeted.  And upon googling I discovered what all the fuss was about:


Now my interest was piqued. Why would one bother to tweet, “twitter hacked trying to resolve” about something as innocent as a favorite. I cannot tell you how many times I have accidently touched that icon. It seemed silly and ridiculous and not worth the mention and so, I started to slowly explore.

 March is traditionally my busiest season at work.  For those who practice employment based immigration, this is our tax season or what I “lovingly” refer to as my version of March Madness.  Its long days, stressful, and at least 6 days a week. So I put my research aside until Sunday, March 29. A day where I was utterly exhausted and decided a lazy day of research was exactly what I needed. And well, I never turned back.

 I spent hours that day discovering this crazy world called tumblr. Reading master posts. Discovering the main CC blogs.  And by the end of the day, I had read enough and seen enough to know that all was not as it appears.  

 And I entered the world of fandom.  Something I was not prepared for and had no idea what it was all about. Sure, I have always been a fan. As a child it started with Duran Duran and moved to my complete obsession with all things INXS.  Since that it has taken many turns, sometimes more music, British actors, sports, theater, and of course Glee. But never did I experience anything like this. And so I started my own blog. With the sole intention of reblogging things that were interesting and following the people that seemed to have insightful and interesting things to say, with the intention of remaining quiet. Just observing.

 I have no idea how I started with that and ended up here, someone who is a pretty strong and vocal voice in this community. It happened gradually, starting with a post about the TLOS and the acknowledgments to where I stand today.  And it has been such an insane and crazy ride. And I wouldn’t change making the choice to be here.

Over the past two years, I have personally talked to so many of you. I have had the pleasure of meeting a few of you at events like Elsie and Broadway Con. I have even had the pleasure of traveling to LA and San Fran with some of you.  Just last night there was dinner and a little singing to celebrate the birthday of one of the very first people I ever spoke to in this fandom. I am so very grateful for all of you, whether  we agree or disagree.  Whether we talk a lot or on occasion. It has taught me a lot. And has often shaped my opinion.  

And of course, the reason we are all here- Chris and Darren.  Two men I have my complete admiration. I may not always agree with their actions, but I think considering what they have been handed, they have handled this burden incredibly and bravely.

I think you all know that I am one of those that firmly believes in CC. That they have been a couple for years and I have seen enough that I do not waiver in my beliefs. I think a large part of why I decided to write so much more is because I think it is so important that people learn about the reality of Hollywood.  And how the constraints that are placed on actors have a profound impact on their lives.  

I often field like I want to take them and shield them under my wing. And if I feel that way, I can only imagine how their families feel. I often wonder if Cerena cries at night and the nightmare that her son in particular has endured.  And it has touched me in a way I cannot explain. And that is why I continue to be here and support them regardless of whether I agree or disagree.

Anyway, I was just feeling a little nostalgic today and I felt the need to write it down.  Here’s to hoping that the journey ahead becomes smoother and a little less tortured and that these men start their journey towards the light.  As I have said, I have no idea what their plan is for the future or how long it will be until we ultimately get to the truth, if we ever completely get it, but I will continue to be a supportive voice through it all. And if I can convince one person to see the truth and start to support the real Darren and Chris than I will feel that I have accomplished something small.

 And if perchance my words ever reach them, I will smile knowing that perhaps my support meant something to them personally.

Parachutes 7a - The Mission

This AU sees Claire working for the Special Operations Executive (SOE) during World War II.  She is on her way to France for a special assignment with two Scottish paratroopers in tow…

Previous posts

My thanks to @bonnie-wee-swordsman for the mammoth edit and @suhailauniverse for the beta reading.  There is a 7b, coming very soon… Hopefully not as long as the last one…


A long, languid sigh of contentment came out as Juliane opened her eyes. Gaston’s head was coming up to meet her neck, lightly kissing her hollow.  

‘He’s happy with me?  Are you sure?  Karla knows who I am?’ he asked between kisses.

‘But of course my dear!  You are a vital part of the French cause!  I have made sure he has heard everything of your exploits and how you are the most committed agent he could hope to have in his ranks.’   He chuckled and she could feel his chest expand in a peacock fashion.  He moved down to her breast, lightly nipping and kissing which brought a sharp intake of breath from her.

‘The British have instructed me to head out on another, longer mission.  I’ll be away for at least a week.  We have a series of drop offs and reconnaissance to undertake.’

She sat bolt upright, eyes flared and glowing with anger.  ‘We? Who is we?’  Hearing the pique in her voice, Gaston looked up sheepishly at Julianne.  Moving back up towards her, he rested his head on her shoulder, slightly pouting.  

‘Don’t be like that, my little ‘witch’.  It’s only orders and they’ve said someone needs to be with La Dame Blanche for as long as she needs; and as commanding officer, I thought it only appropriate for it to be me’.

Her head snapped towards him, her eyes gleaming.  ‘La Dame Blanche is here?  Do you have a name?  Who is she, then?’

‘You know I can’t tell you that and compromise another agent.’  He started stroking her long auburn hair, moving it away from her ears, nibbling her lobe.  ‘What’s so special about her anyway?’ he whispered.

Julianne, hoisted herself up on her elbows, hair falling down around her and hiding her breasts.  Gaston gently moved it away.

‘Special?  My dear, La Dame Blanche is the British Army’s medical botany specialist!  I heard they’d sent her out into the field but didn’t believe they would be so stupid to do it.  They must be desperate.  Or she’s working on something big.’

—-

I sighed and looked around again waiting for Gaston to appear.  He had been due thirty-five minutes ago and we had already missed the train to our destination.  The longer we waited, the more nervous I became.  My general antipathy for Gaston was a large part of that.  The relish with which he had delivered the news that London wanted me to go ‘with a commander’ on this mission filled me with dread.  I highly doubted that he was named in the dispatch itself, but he wouldn’t let me see all of it, just the aspect pertaining to my set instructions.  Of course, it made no sense to the other members of the resistance group.

‘Sources say Culloden almost prepared, the bitter cascara might be the only option’

I had groaned at the thought.  The Nazis were close to preparing the lethal botanical weapon and I had to sabotage the production.  The cover was that Gaston would be my husband, an executive for a beauty company and we were visiting the town and factory for product.  We had been told that the beauty factory was only a cover and that a separate factory was adjacent and where Culloden was being manufactured.  We had secured a meeting and now journeyed for a week long mission.  Anyone else I wished.  Anyone.

A cough stopped my train of thought.

‘Madame? Claire?’  I recognised the soft voice with the hint of Scots lying underneath.  For some reason, I caught my breath and felt the valves in my heart quicken.I looked up to see a riot of ginger curls, the sun beaming through, blinding me.

‘Jamie? Where is Gaston?  I’ve been waiting for nearly an hour and the next train is due in ten minutes’

He scooted next to me, the warmth radiating so violently that my cold body was fighting to not sit up against him.

‘Taken ill, weird sickness.  Raymond said it’s almost like M. Robichoux, so God knows how he caught that.’  His feet tapped on the platform and he glanced down at them. ‘So, I’m your husband’ He coughed again and looked towards my bags and before I could respond to his statement, stood up and collected everything and strode towards the platform, leaving me to rush behind him.

‘What do you mean you’re my husband? Are you saying you’re taking his place?’  

Jamie stopped so abruptly, I almost crashed straight into his tall frame, panting with the quick exertion.  

‘Well, er. Yes. What kind of a friend would I be to leave you in the arms of <Rupert>?’ I smiled and was returned by a glint in his blue eyes. ‘I don’t know what we’re doing, but I figured at least one of us does, I am at your service, madame’.

By some luck, we had it all to ourselves, which seemed to be both a blessing and a curse.  There was a lingering tension in the air, from what I could not say, but it was palpable.  Maybe Jamie was nervous about the mission, seeing as he didn’t really know the full extent of it.  It was musty and dishevelled through wartime neglect.  I smiled.  Not unlike us all, I mused.  I settled myself into the corner, by the window.  Jamie, after placing our luggage in the overhead shelves, sat opposite me.  The French countryside looked calm and reassuring, green fields suggesting fertile crops seeming to mock the shortages being felt by the population.  I looked away to find him staring at me.  I looked at him quizzically, and raised an eyebrow, he responded by reading a copy of the local newspaper, but his constant glances up at me, at the door, put me on edge.

Mission nerves.  We all got them from time to time. Luckily, I had other things related to the expedition on my mind; how we were to find the cascara substitute, and how on earth we would be able to get into the factory in the first place to disrupt the process.  I opened up my book and begun to study the composition of the plants the Nazis were using.  Seemed simple, if yet very clever stuff.  The fact that the British hadn’t even thought of it when the French surrendered was mind-blowing.  Well, in truth, they had.  Or rather I had.

My inability to get the team I was working with to consider the possibility that the plants could or would be synthesised was part of the reason I transferred into the SOE.  Very firmly one evening, I was pulled aside by the section leader, the cigarette smell stale and worn on his motheaten jacket.  It was ‘explained’ to me rather idiotically, that my idea would not get far, that I should give it up.  Three weeks later, he came back again and warned me to drop my theory and protests to the head of command.  But I persisted and found it so frustrating, that they moved me to another team.  The boredom of that work was the reason, despite Frank’s displeasure, I ended up in the SOE.  

But I was right.  I was bloody right, the bastards.

The jostling of the train relaxed me and I looked up out of my window, closing my eyes to envisage the structures of the plants and how they were fusing together in the most deadly way. Clarity and sense of purpose flowed and I began to see how much cascara we may wish to use.

‘What have you got in that wee book there?’ I was thrown out of my meditation by Jamie’s soft Scottish burr.  I glanced around and seeing that we were still alone looked at him ‘Your lack of security is quite something. En français, s’il te plaît’.

A lopsided smile came across his face. ‘Well, what is in your book that has you tapping and muttering so?  Can I take a look?’

My large companion moved, to sit next to me.  I moved closer to the window, the seat barely registering my presence, yet Jamie seemed to completely disrupt the wadding inside and,  much to my amusement, bounced me in the air as he settled into place, dust moving everywhere like tiny wisps.  In all the commotion, and in his eagerness to see the book, he practically sat on top of me, so close that our legs touched in a familiar, yet strange way.  

‘It’s nothing really, just a little book on plants that I like to read from time to time.’

‘On plants you say?  I’ve noticed you picking up little bits here and there.  Is it a hobby of yours?’

I glanced up at him, meeting those earnest blue eyes.  I breathed slowly, not knowing how much to give away in this area.  I’d talked freely to Jamie, as open as one could be in the circumstances.  I found him easy company.  He was a born storyteller,  like most Scots I’d come across, we had shared many stories and had reached a friendly intimacy and I felt awkward telling him the truth.  I wanted to tell him more, yet I was torn.  Any more information could certainly put him in jeopardy and I didn’t want his death on my head.

‘You could say that’.

I saw him eyeing me up, wondering what to say.  ‘You could say that…’ he trailed off.  ‘Something tells me you’re not telling me the whole story with that Claire.  It’s more than just a hobby isn’t it?’  I could feel the perspiration begin to form on my neck, the clamminess uncomfortable and I moved my hand to my neck to try wipe it away.  Jamie continued, low.  Like a horse tamer trying not to startle a newborn foal.  

‘I think there is room for secrets in the world we live in.  God knows, you have to have them.  But not lies.  Not between us.  Know that you don’t need to tell me anything that isn’t classified, anything that would compromise the mission and’ he paused and looked at me ‘more importantly you’.

I gulped.  It was now or never.

‘Medicine isn’t my specialty.  I am a trained nurse, but botany was my first love.  The two together are rather fascinating to me, how nature itself can heal.’  And that was it.  I found myself explaining my background, mindful to not tell him everything.  I couldn’t tell him about Frank.  Something always stopped me.  

Silence.  Jamie just looked at me.  His face impassive and hard to read.  I felt anxious but resolved.  He wanted the truth, and I gave it to him.  He knew some measure of the type of woman, the type of person I was.

He smiled that lopsided smile that gave me reassurance, a dusting of stubble lightly flecking his face and a twinkle lept to his eyes.

‘Now! I almost forgot, time to make it official!’ And with that he jumped up off of the banquette and grabbed at his case.  ‘Can’t have my wife going about without a ring now, can I?’  I rolled my eyes.  He chuckled, his shoulders raising.

‘Heaven forbid! What did Gaston give you, some old dusty gold ring?’

His eyes shifted to his case.  The mood in the carriage suddenly went very serious.  

‘Ah well, no. I brought my own.’  And with that he ceremoniously got down on one knee, I couldn’t help but smile at the sweetness of it all. ‘Claire Beauchamp, will you do me the honour of being my wife? My mission wife that is’.

I nodded, and he slipped the ring on, muttering something I couldn’t quite make out.  

‘What was that?’

‘Nothing, just a bit of the Gaelic. Seemed wrong to put it on and not say it. Traditional like.’

‘Have I sold you my soul?’ I teased, laughing ‘and more importantly, did you give me your soul to so with as I like?’

anonymous asked:

idk about the transphobic stuff other than shit he said years ago but im afraid to come off anon for this: please believe me when i say he drew nsfw art of me when i was a minor and asked to use nudes of me as references. i would PM you proof of this if you had that activated rn but i do not feel comfortable sharing this publicly. i have more than one example of this pertaining to myself and one for my friend. we were under 18 when he did this.

submits are activated for you now anon

anonymous asked:

Are You working on a valentine fanfic? Do You plan on doing one? Its been so long Since i read something from You... i also plan doing a valentine fanfic!

Oooh anon that’s exciting!! I have a feeling there will be quite a few romantic fics happening over the next 24 hours…

As for me….. hmmmm writing a Valentine’s Day fic…… …  .  .    . 

Nope, can’t say that I am – had not even thought about it, and really, I don’t think anyone would want to read a KageHina V-Day fic by me anyway…! Right???

But, hey, @someone-stole-my-shoes 

Originally posted by kuronekofacu1000

are you writing anything for Valentine’s Day?

On a totally unrelated note, in no way at all pertaining to tomorrow, February 14th, Valentine’s D A Y – huh, no, never thought about it. Could be fun. 

But yeah no real reason to brush up on either my Whole Milk or Laura’s Cam Boy (Routine) verse, currently. Nahhhh. Unless you want to, of course~

Coffee Break

Words: 695
Bruce Wayne X Reader (Male or Female)
Prompt:  “
We work really late together and you’ve memorized how I take my coffee AU” Prompt Credit goes to @dances-with-snowflakes & @dailyau

[Is it just me or is does Batfleck look totally confused in every screencap from Batman V Superman?? Don’t get me wrong he is one of my favorite Batmen.]


You cracked your neck to the left and then to the right. You stifled a yawn and stretched your hands high above your head. You rolled your shoulders. It felt like every part of your body had gone stiff. Not that you blamed your muscles and joints. You’d been sitting in your office chair for hours. It was well past ten o’clock at night and you still had a lot of work to do.

You looked around the empty conference room. Almost everyone else had gone home when the office officially closed. Only you and your boss, Bruce Wayne, had stayed to finish the project. You rubbed your eyes which had grown sore from staring at your computer screen for so long. You blinked a few times and waited for your eyes to adjust.

“Coffee?” You looked up to see your boss holding a mug out to you. “I have a machine in my office. French Vanilla with a dash of cream, right?”

“Uh yeah.” You reached out and accepted the mug. “How did you know?”

“You get stuck working late with me three times a week minimum. I was bound to learn something about you, [Y/N].” He smirked at you as he placed his own mug down on the conference table. You watched him slide into the seat next to you from over the brim of your mug. He moved smoothly, everything he did was done deliberately and with no mistake.  

“Thank you, Mr. Wayne. It’s delicious.” You held the warm mug in one hand and turned your attention back to your work.

“You know, you’re the only the only person around here who calls me Mr. Wayne. Why is that?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “You’re my boss. It doesn’t seem right going around calling you Br-ews.” It felt awkward and uncomfortable saying his first name out loud. Instead of mocking you, he just smirked.

“But I call you, [Y/N]. Would you prefer I use, [Ms./Mr.] [Y/L/N]?” He waited for your answer.

“No. My first name is fine. Uh, better even.” You blinked, taken back by his sudden interest in you. Most of the time your conversations strictly pertained to work. The offers of fresh coffee and socializing were new territory.

“Then I insist you call me Bruce. It’s only fair.” He offered you a smile before checking his phone. “I didn’t realize it was so late. You must have somewhere else you else you need to be, home to a boyfriend or girlfriend perhaps?” He scratched the back of his neck not-so-subtlety.

“Mr. Wayne…”

“Bruce,” he corrected.

“Bruce,” You rolled your eyes. “I appreciated the effort you’re making, really I do. You don’t have to. I didn’t get a job at Wayne Enterprises because it’s employees are well known for their social graces. I wanted a job here because the people who work here are the best at what they do. You don’t get to be the best by worrying if you’re home in time for your boyfriend.”

“That’s a valid point. My apologies, I was not trying to insult you or in any way insinuate that you needed a relationship. You know, the more I talk, the further I jam my foot in my mouth. Let me start over. [Y/N], you are a valued employee here at Wayne Enterprises and I would be honored if these two of us could work together on a first name basis.” He smiled and offered you his hand. You smirked.

“It would be my pleasure, Bruce.” You gave his hand a brief shake, before looking down at your watch. “It’s getting pretty late. What do you say we call it a night and try and find a fast food place that’s still open?” Bruce leaned back in his chair and looked at you with uncertainty. He was clearly trying to keep the moment from turning awkward again.

“I’d ask you out to a real dinner, but I doubt anywhere respectable is open this late at night.” You clarified.

“If things go well, we could always have a respectable breakfast to look forward to.” He winked at you and closed his laptop with a flirtatious smile.

“so where exactly are we going?” rin states as the sun starts to rise from its hollow below the skyline

“it would be wise to start heading toward a nearby village” aisheek suggests with his usual tone 

before replying sam nods her head “could go for something to drink, its been a while since I had one” she looks of in every direction “but… were gonna need a map to know where a village is…”

the group seemed to look around for answers before meridian flops onto the ground “anywhere we go ill probably be disclosed to i guess this doesn’t pertain to me” she says a little moping noise

rin shuffles over to poke her nose “hey, well make sure your not gonna be attacked or hurt. your not the only big pokemon around that would be going around right?” he attempts to comfort her

“are you sure? cause I kinda want some more puffs…” she looks off as if imagining the puffs

“where did you find puffs?” sam asks as she walks over

“some people came by last night and we talked for quite a while… it was a pretty good time… I got puffs” she still ponders the thought

“if we dont know where a town is… walk east? rin suggests looking at the others

everyone looks for a bit before agreeing. a few minutes later they set off east toward any nearby town

[all the group is available for asks again]

anonymous asked:

Hello Doctor! I am here with the Ula'ula Local Newspaper. We were wondering if you could answer a few questions for our 'Poké Trending' column! What is your favorite baby Pokemon? Also, what sort of items do you recommend new trainers to pack when starting their Island Challenge? Finally, how do you feel about the current shiny Pokemon craze?

        A legitimate set of questions that actually pertain to his expertise? This is a wonderful experience for him already.

    {} — “Hands down, my favorite infant Pokemon would be a Goomy or an Abra… Though I must say that Wimpod are beginning to rise up there on my list of favorites…”

        Ah yes, an important question. Items.

    “I am so glad you asked me that. Many trainers seem to forget that food and water are an important part of traveling. While you move from city to city, I have had many cases of trainers coming into my care due to dehydration or malnutrition. Alolan summers are incredibly unforgiving to younger individuals and their teams. The same goes for their Pokemon. Always have plenty of food and water for your Pokemon. They need to eat and drink as well! Pokeballs are a form of carrying them, not a form of idling their needs in life. They are living creatures, not tools.”

        Branden huffs under his breath, taking a moment to ponder. What else would be important for a trainer?

    “Potions, Antidotes, berries that help rid of poison and other conditions. Oh, do not forget Revives as well. Those are very important. Of course a Pokemon Center is always best, but the less time that your Pokemon is knocked out, the better. Do not risk damage to their bodies or minds. One other thing to remember is money. This is incredibly important. You never know when you are going to need to make an emergency visit to a Pokemon Mart or want to sleep in a bed. While most trainers sleep out in the wilderness and use their sleeping bag, it is important to remember that towns and cities have discounts and deals for trainers on their trials. Do not pass up well defined shelter. Alola is incredibly beautiful, but can be vicious and unforgiving.”

    “As for the shiny craze. I feel it has been around since Shinies were first discovered. When scientists discovered it was merely a genetic mutation in their physical appearance and very rarely caused any sort of health condition besides standing out of their natural environment, individuals, myself included, have been fascinated with Shiny Pokemon.”

        The doctor shrugged his shoulders, offering a smile.

    “As long as people treat their Pokemon with respect and equality, I see no issue in the craze of individuals wanting to seek out Shiny Pokemon. I have befriended many of them. In truth, a trainer taking care of a Shiny Pokemon offers them a better chance at life. Shinies have difficulty blending in with their enviornment, given that their color patterns are altered. It can make hunting for food and living in the wild rather hard. Shiny Pokemon are known for being tenacious and strong-willed. I can relate to standing out from my own species… It is never easy.”

anonymous asked:

Reactions are open wow!! I'm so excited~ umm can I request jungkook seeing his girlfriend wearing his hoodie/tee shirt for the first time? And it's HUGE on her because 1) jungkook likes over sized clothing and 2) she's small

haha Kookie does love those huge white shirts. :P\

Jungkook was calmly watching anime in the living room when you, his girlfriend, suddenly walks out from the bedroom. He’d look up, then look back at the TV–only to do a double take on you as he recognizes what you’re wearing. Jungkook wasn’t sure when you had commandeered his closet, but the sight of you practically swimming in one of his white shirts had his heart racing and he couldn’t bring himself to ask questions and just opted to appreciate the view…

What a great view it is, he thinks as his eyes traveled over you–

“What’s got you smiling?” you ask as you tie your hair up in a ponytail. Jungkook blushes deeply because he’s totally loving your look right now: so casual and pretty without even trying. And the fact that you’re wearing one of his shirts stirs a sense of possessiveness in him. 

“Nothing.” he shakes his head with a smile on his face. “I was just wondering where you got that shirt.”

“Oh.” You frown, remembering how Jungkook hated sharing clothes with his members and you thought maybe you crossed a line. “I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t even realize I wore–” you huff. “I’ll go change–”

“No!” Jungkook yells out which makes you jump. “I mean,” he coughs, his cheeks tinted red. “It’s fine. Keep–keep it on.”

You look at him and your surprise was soon replaced by a smirk when you recognize the shy look in your boyfriend’s face. You walked towards him slowly, his eyes never leaving your form the whole time. Sitting on his right,  you leant heavily on him with a grin. Jungkook chuckled at your clingy-ness and his arms instinctively went around you–pulling you close till you were practically on his lap.

“Your shirts are so comfy.” you said as you laid your head on his chest. “I like it.”

“Me too.” he smiles at you and kisses the crown of your head, though he was really pertaining to you not his shirts. Jungkook loves his white shirts (why on earth would he own so many if he didn’t?) but he thinks he loves them even more now that it’s on you. 

“Can I borrow them more often?” you ask and Jungkook laughs softly; feeling his chest vibrating against your head. 

“So long as I get to cuddle you every time you wear it.”

“Deal.” you say, kissing his chest playfully. Jungkook shakes his head in amusement and the two of you watch the show together. As you do, Jungkook tightens his grip around you and wonders how easily he breaks his rules for you. 

As he nuzzles against your neck, you giggle (because he knows your ticklish :P) and thinks maybe he just might be a little in love. 

Originally posted by theking-or-thekid

aawww :”>

- Kaye Allen

i have SO many hunter-related memories almost all pertaining to taming pets. i remember a long time ago when i found out there was a suggestion button in the game menu the very first thing i did was submit a very politely worded suggestion saying it would be cool if we could tame hydras. guess what!!!! now we can and you can all thank me for that

considering-myself-tagged by @mintchocolateleaves while procrastinating on my homework

Bold the statements that are true for you:

APPEARANCE:

  • I am 5′7″ or taller (h a h a h a)
  • I wear glasses
  • I have at least one tattoo
  • I have at least one piercing
  • I have blonde hair
  • I have brown eyes
  • I have short hair
  • My abs are at least somewhat defined
  • I have or have had braces
  • There is something I would change about the way I look

Keep reading

Before I met you,
I was a person.
Believe it or not,
I had thoughts and complexities
Beyond your existence.
As we spoke,
I shocked you with my openness,
An openness I tried to transmit
Across all my relationships and interactions,
Because I hate keeping track
Of who I told what.



But you thought you were special,
That you’d given me this gift
Of light in darkness,
A single companion to embark on my journey.
You thought you were my answer,
That I needed you,
But haven’t you realized by now
I’m more than the questions I possess?
My questions do not need an answer,
Don’t you ever ask just to hear your words released into the atmosphere,
Setting your mind free from the confines of their binary?
Don’t you ever speak just to see what might happen?
My words don’t have as much weight as you think.


But I’m too serious,
Holding onto something that you claim just isn’t there,
Where you’re just casual,
Never struck by casualties in this warfare.
You say you’re here for my convenience,
Because surely without you I would wilt like an ill-nurtured flower,
And you’re obligated to care for me.


I’m not looking for answers, don’t you see?
Of all the questions I’ve thrown out into the universe,
The least relevant pertain to you and me.
My body is deteriorating and no one can tell me why
And you think my greatest tragedy would be in your goodbye.

—  “Holding on for Me,” by Grazia Curcuru
A Little Story About Gillovny

So I wanted to share a little story with you guys about a moment I witnessed while at the Chicago Comic Con (aka Gillovnycon).  As of this moment the only people who know about this are my girls @crossedbeams, @xfiles9316, and @bird3000.  I’ve gone back and forth about telling this story, but ultimately I realized that it could bring a bit of joy to your day and doesn’t compromise any privacy.

So I should start be saying that @crossedbeams was my right hand through the entire con experience.  She was the best platonic date ever.  And so she held my place in the Platinum Experience Photo (now with more William B Davis!) while I went to the bathroom (and got us some more adult beverages).  I see her waving at me frantically and talking to the gal in charge of the line. Evidently it had moved along a whole lot faster than we thought it would and so Rose was telling the lady that I was a diabetic and had to take my medication.  Of course I am NOT diabetic, but she was working on the fly.  Anyways, there was a little lull before I arrived and there wasn’t anyone in there before me.  The only people in the room where David, Gillian, Mitch and WBD and some of the con staff.  As I opened the curtain to get in the makeshift room I didn’t see Gillian at first.  A second later I saw her move.  She was standing behind David and had her forehead resting on the middle of his back and her arms were around his waist.  It was this intimate little moment and for a second I wasn’t sure what I was seeing.  But then I realized that she was almost taking comfort from him. Her eyes were closed and she looked…relaxed.  He appeared unfazed by his adult friend leaning her head on him and having her arms around him. Like, it didn’t seem that it was any big deal.

After the panel I was a little unsure about the state of Gillovny.  Gillian just seemed a little off and annoyed with the whole thing and the energy in the room was just odd.  This has all been discussed here ad nauseum, so I’m not looking to rehash that.  The important thing was after seeing this little moment between them I was absolutely convinced that a) there’s something going on with those two, b) they were closer than they’ve ever been and c) all is well with the world. I have waffled quite a bit in regards to Gillovny because there’s never been any first hand proof of their involvement.  I can now attest to witnessing a moment that I believe to be confirmatory of an intimate relationship between them.  And I know some will say that is no big deal and doesn’t really indicate all that much. Maybe they’re right.  But for me, seeing this and feeling the energy in the room was enough to have me convinced that Gillovny Is Real (to what degree is still uncertain).

I’d also like to make the comment that I now completely eschew the idea that David and Gillian would ever be involved in a “showmance”.  It was clear to me that Gillian has no fucks to give as it pertains to the X Files.  There’s absolutely no way that she would compromise or profit off her relationship with David in any form or fashion.  And it also seems likely that the only reason she signed on for season 10 was the opportunity it afforded her to spend time with David.  It sure as fuck wasn’t the promise of CC’s excellent writing.  I think that spending time with him (given their relationship is one of “logistics”) has become a priority of hers, hence her spending the last six to seven of the last fourteen months in the same place as him. 

So that’s the story.  These two dummies are in love:

OKKKK TOG FANDOM

IS MANON GOING TO DIE?!?!?! BECAUSE THIS SOUNDS AWFULLY LIKE SOMETHING YOU WOULD SAY TO SOMEONE WHO IS ABOUT TO DIE, AND SINCE MANON WAS DESCRIBED TO BE AS BEAUTIFUL AS THE DARKNESS BETWEEN THE STARS, THIS WOULD PERTAIN T OHER CHARACTER PRETTY CLOSELY.

WOULD DORIAN SAY THIS?? LIKE AS SHE’S DYING IN HIS ARMS, IT WOULD BE LIKE “EVEN WHEN THIS WORLD IS A FORGOTTEN WHISPER OF DUST BETWEEN THE STARS, I WILL LOVE YOU” AND THEN SHE DIES WITH LIKE A SMALL SMILE ON HER FACE, CONTENT THAT SHE COULD DIE THE WAY SHE BELIEVED WAS RIGHT AND NOT THE WAY SHE WAS “CREATED” (WHICH IS A MONSTER) LIKE THIS IS SCREWING ME OVER BIG TIME SGIUFDHLNKMVRFEBASXVCIKBJNWgds

socially-awkward-french-fry-dea  asked:

I'm sorry if I've been bugging you, but I have another question. How would u know if you're an intuitive type or a sensing type?

Right. You caught me in a good mood, congratulations. I’ll answer you. ;)

I was a bit stumped on how to answer this in clear terms, so I asked an INTJ friend. Here’s what she had to say, which pertains to high Ni (I’ll add Ne below):

The question I would ask is this: how well do you deal with second-hand and/or indirect information? A lot of people claim to be intuitives and use their people-reading skills as an example of their intuitive preference, but really - how you do it is more important than anything. A sensor is going to be more reliant on environmental clues of any kind (mimicry, body language, posture, inflection) and generally have a more difficult time interpreting clues that aren’t directly observable or are relayed to them by a third party. Everyone uses a mixture of both sensory information and “gut feeling” to interpret a situation, but the tendency to stick with a gut feeling that seemingly has no basis in reality and come out on top is usually a sign of high Ni.

I think it’s also important to mention that a high Ni user can’t usually explain how they came to their conclusion. Ni isn’t a function that uses rationality and deduction as a basis for its knowledge - that would be Ti. Ni itself isn’t very systematic or logical at all. I would say that using Ni is very much a process of thinking without thinking. Or perhaps knowing without thinking. Modern neuroscience has equated this process with above-average synapses between the two brain hemispheres.

Okay. I will jump in with Ne and add: getting a sense of what isn’t obvious.

Intuition is seeing what is not there, and reading between the lines. It’s not really rooted in the present so much as in vibes. Hence why secondhand information is just as useful as in person observation.

Let’s say this girl named Jane seems on the level. Taken at face value, she’s cool. Maybe a little needy but most people are.

Intuitive, however, is not reading her on a surface level. It’s reading the gray spaces in between the lines. It’s interpreting what is not obvious. Something is up with Jane. She’s lying about stuff. Even though no one ever catches her at it, something is not adding up in her appeals for attention. So, Ne starts probing her a bit, pushing her to see what happens. She doesn’t like it. She doesn’t say as much, but shuts Ne out by imposing “mass censorship” on her friends (just in case Ne says something to taint them against her). Others aren’t sure what’s going on, but Ne knows Jane has figured out that Ne’s button-pushing has Suspicion behind it.

Nothing Jane said was obvious. None of it was visible. Ne still picked up on it. And eventually, the truth comes out about Jane. The lies all unravel. Ne is not at all surprised, because it had a vague sense that Something Was Up.

Furthermore, let’s say none of this happened in person. All online. No visible cues. It’s only later when Ne looks at the one or two in person interactions it had with Jane and sees little indicators of a sensory nature. It was all Ne instinct, none of it was built on any physical indicators, because Ne was oblivious to them until the larger pattern emerged and added them in as an unconscious afterthought.

Sensors and intuitives may reach the exact same conclusion about someone or something, but how they got there is very different. Sensors are better able to explain just how they reached their conclusion because they have direct sensory evidence whereas intuitives do not have evidence; they find it later, because their instinct got ahead of the sensory environment.