like...unnatural

i can only use this site on mobile now, being on a desktop feels so unnatural like what do i do? type, with a physical keyboard? my hooves are too big to do such a thing

totheowls  asked:

Hi there, I was wondering if you could give some tips on how to draw character body expressions because I can't seem to get it right, they always look like robots or unnatural abominations pretending to be humans. Also, your art is fantastic, on both of your blogs and I love it :)

Hi there! :D Ahh! Thank you so much! Usually when I go about approaching drawing a pose or expression, I start off with sketching in the gesture of the pose to make sure the pose or expression “flows” together. I try to make sure that the lines have a “rhythm” to them to help lead the eye around the pose, and give the pose life. In addition, keeping your drawings loose will also help to make the poses have more life, and maintain the energy of the pose. Here is a tutorial on how I tend to approach sketching :D I hope this helps!

My favorite thing is when a White Woman loses to a Black Woman in any sport or physical activity and instead of just admitting and realizing that she’s not as good as she thought she was or that you can’t win everything…

She’ll go “Well… y'know… it’s not fair because she’s a Black Girl”. Then you ask her what she means and she goes “Black girls are like unnaturally strong so it’s like not fair uwu. Science says”.

And it’s just like, no Becky you just suck. Plain and simple keep it moving with them White Woman tears.

Assuming that the small waist was not simply fashionable because of an inherent, essential beauty, the larger question remains as to why the waist signified femininity and gentility for the Victorians. In part, as allusions to ‘delicacy’ and 'sickliness’ indicate, the small waist draws resonance from the larger nineteenth-century fashion for invalidism. Bram Dijkstra writes that: 'More and more the mythology of the day began to associate even normal health–let alone 'unusual’ physical vigor in women–with dangerous, masculinizing attitudes. A healthy woman, it was often thought, was likely to be an 'unnatural’ woman. Proper human angels were weak, helpless, ill.’ The waist, in particular, could signify a woman’s light weight and demonstrate her literal and metaphorical bodilessness. The physiognomist Alexander Walker (1840) describes a woman’s body as 'precise, striking, and often brilliant. –From its proportions, it sometimes seems almost aerial; and we would imagine, that, if our hands were placed under the lateral parts of the tapering waist of a woman thus characterized, the slightest pressure would suffice to throw her into the air.’ Walker’s violent image of masculine prowess suggests that the erotic appeal of a woman’s small waist derives from her physical weakness and vulnerability, especially when juxtaposed with man’s strength. Symbolically, the waist signifies woman’s ethereal nature, the 'aerial’ qualities that separate her from man; a woman’s light weight suggests her spiritual, rather than carnal, nature. Her 'angelic’ nature is thus reflected in her weak, slight body.
—  Anna Krugovoy Silver, Victorian Literature and the Anorexic Body

(Context, we use Wild Magic pretty heavily in our game, making the odds a bit higher than normal)
Warlock: Ok, I roll to intimidate the ‘Mysterious Creature’ in the corner. *rolls Nat 1*
DM: Ok, that’s looking like a wild magic roll if I’ve seen one. Roll a d100… Well it looks like your age has unnaturally regressed by 10 years, let’s see if that intimidated the creature. *rolls a Nat 1* Ok, so apparently the creature is absolutely terrified of age regression and cowers in fear, immediately letting you pass.

is your best friend a reincarnated dragon? it’s more likely than you think!

since @honeybunchesofjokes​ decided call out posts were in again, here’s mine for her:

SHE’S A LITERAL FIVE HEADED DRAGON!

…..

okay, she’s not a literal five headed dragon, but she IS a dragon, likely one who’s sass pissed off a wizard, which is why she’s been cursed to into a tiny, frail mortal form

“but shana!” you’re saying, “that’s a serious accusation! you can’t accuse people of being dragons without any evidence! this is america! we’re human until proven a giant fire breathing lizard in a court of law!”

BITCH you think I don’t got EVIDENCE???

please consider:

runs hot. runs so hot. call the police and the fireman (make a draGON WANNA RETIRE MAN!!!!)

  • she’s so warm everyone in the friend group has used her as a space heater at various points
  • has put her hot hot hands on various people and there’s just this slow outrage of realization that small bunsen burners have been placed on them
  • she laid next to me in bed and was literally giving off such a large amount of heat from her tiny body that i had to TURN ON THE AIR CONDITIONING

she likes Things not in the way people like things, but in the ways of museum curators and DRAGONS have HOARDS of Things!

  • collects postcards, curates postcards and Small Art, and sometimes puts them up but most of the time they are just There and she Has Them because they are part of her Things
  • things that are blue are Good and things that are teal are Very Good!! she has so many things in teal!!! she hoards teal!! is a small art or postcard teal? EVEN BETTER!
  • ‘but shana’ you say ‘those aren’t very traditional dragon hoards. that just sounds like things she likes’
  • IF! THIS! BITCH! COULD! ROB! A! BANK! SHE WOULD!! AND SHE WOULD SLEEP ON A PILE OF SOLID GOLD BARS!! BUT SHE CAN’T BREATH FIRE ANYMORE SO SHE MUST MAKE DO WITH PRETTY ART AND TEAL COLORED THINGS!!!

she made herself a cave to live in

  • i’m not fucking joking she made a CAVE!!!
  • she bought a queen canopy bed and got some dark BLUE sheets and THREE (3!) BLUE blankets and dark BLUE curtains to surround herself in!! it’s all blue and dark!
  • bitch missed her native environment and just!! built a motherfucking cave!!

her fashion aesthetic is Adventurer and Hero

  • how is this relevant, you ask?
  • i can only assume she dresses like all the mortals who tried to slay her in her past life and FAILED

consumes things that are TOO HOT!!

  • normal people should not be consuming things that are that hot!
  • drinks soup and other liquids that are boiling!!! yells at ME for not drinking boiling liquids! ‘it’s too hot!’ i tell her, and she scoffs and says 'it’s lukewarm!’
  • you???? are consuming??? a boiling liquid???? YOU DON’T GET TO TELL ME ANYTHING ON TEMPERATURE
  • 'microwave this for me’ she says. i do it. 'this is cold!’ she complains. honey. honey bunch. honey bunches of oats. its FUCKING STEAMING.

grew up in the icy tundra of minnesota and hates the warm mild so cal!

  • it is because she runs so hot!
  • loves snow! loves cold! who loves being cold?? NO ONE LOVES BEING COLD
  • therefore she is Not As Cold as everyone else because she’s a MOTHERFUCKING DRAGON
  • NO WONDER she doesn’t like living in a desert! dragons don’t live in deserts! they live on the tops of icy snowy mountains!
  • 'it’s too hot’ she says, for once in her goddamn life. 'IT’S A PLEASANT FUCKING DAY’ i say. 'we should move. someplace north.’ she says, because she yearns to RETURN FROM WHENCE SHE CAME

every time she comes out of the shower she looks like she just got fucking murdered by gordon ramsay

  • let me explain
  • she scratches herself in the shower and BIG RED WELTS APPEAR.
  • 'oh,’ you say, 'she has sensitive skin!’
  • DOES SHE???? or are her NAILS much like her UNNATURAL BODY HEAT remnants of her former dragon body, and therefore so much stronger than a normal human’s??
  • I THINK WE ALL KNOW THE ANSWER HERE

she’s always ready to Fight

  • her new years resolution last year was to get in a bar fight. this year it was to be pettiest person she knows.
  • she is a FIRM believer that violence solves ALL YOUR PROBLEMS if you do it right
  • why is so much vigilante justice rage contained inside of her? why is she so Ready To Go, Mate?
  • what else do you expect!! when you curse a big fearsome dragon!! to reside in a mortal form!! this is what you get!!!

in conclusion:

My Roommate Is A Giant Fire-breathing Lizard

thank you and goodnight

anonymous asked:

release the accidentally selling your souls to a demon story

So my birthday is only two days before Halloween. 

The day after I turned 13, I had my birthday party, which just consisted of my two friends sleeping over. It was a pretty average night, we just ate pizza, made some weird videos and watched movies. Everything was fine. 

Morning time comes- and we’re all pretty Buzzed. It’s Halloween, I was officially a teenager, we had some cool costumes planned, we were all very hyper and giggly that morning. We didn’t want our party to end yet so with some calls home, the girls were set to hang out at my place for pretty much the rest of the day- but we then realized we didn’t have anything to do. My mom had to go to Target for some reason or another, and told us if we went with her, she’d buy ‘any movie you want’ for us to watch. So we went. 

Now, firstly- anyone who’s ever been inside a Target knows it’s Not A Real Place. Secondly, the veil is always thinner on Halloween (facts) so this Target had suddenly become…Super Weird. Like, brighter and hazier than normal, and it’s like 9 in the morning and we’re roaming the empty and seemingly abandoned aisles in our pajamas. It just felt like one wrong step and you’d find yourself in another dimension, really intensely. 

We get to the movie aisle and start looking around. Now, at the time, I was the only one of my friends who actually liked horror movies- Raychel loves them now but she was the BIGGEST WIMP when we were kids, and Angie was just Very Quiet And Easy To Startle- but, like, Halloween. Teenager. The girls were surprisingly down for getting a horror movie, which in itself might have been a Warning Sign, but hey, I was stoked about it. We were going through some classic titles but nothing was really jumping out at us- until we see a dvd case, not even on the shelves, it was lying on the floor half shoved under a discarded shirt. The cover was pure white with a clown face laughing out at us. The title card read “Stephen King’s IT”. 

None of us had seen it before- but we had heard about it. It was one of those movies that the adults™ always got weird about, like Chuckie the Killer Doll or the Exorcist. Like it was something that actually scared them. So, like, we knew we totally had to get it. 

My mom tried to put up a small fight with “you’re only supposed to be getting into PG13 not R” (lmao as if this woman has ever given a flying fuck with restrictions I watched so much age inappropriate stuff starting at like age 4) but she quit pretty quickly. The entire ride home was met with “Okay I never watched the full version but it is a Very Scary Story so you’ve been warned!! Don’t start complaining when you’re scared!!!” stuff like that, you know. So we get home, pop some corn, get some hot chocolate, and jump in front of the tv and turn it on. 

So like…firstly, I think we all know by now that the original movie (or miniseries, whatever) isn’t actually That Scary. Secondly, I’m a fucking gem to watch movies with because I make a lot of jokes and laugh at the characters actions. And thirdly, it’s like thirty hours long. So we were all having the time of our damn lives here. Like, there were definitely parts that did scare us (Raychel had trouble with Bev’s bathroom scene. Angie hated the part at the sewers with Ben. Personally, I got freaked out by Eddie’s shower scene and sometimes I still find myself covering the drain with my feet just in case lol. And the blood balloons and the restaurant scene got to us too), but we were still all having a total blast. Watching this movie for the first time is still like a prime happy memory! But, you know, things come to an end. The movie was over, Raychel got picked up and Angie had to head home too (we were meeting up after dinner for trick or treating). I decided to walk Angie home since it wasn’t that far. 

The Veil Still Felt Thin. 

On the walk we kept talking about the movie, and made a point to not walk close to any sewer grates. Our small PA town bore enough of a resemblance to Derry for Angie’s comfort. But it was a nice day, you know? It was late afternoon, birds were chirping, sun was shinning, leaves were blowing everywhere, cars are honking hello at us, front doors were open and little kids could be heard excitedly yelling about their costumes. It was a day that struck me as very picturesque. We eventually got to the place where she could just shortcut through someone’s backyard, so we said ‘see you later’ and suddenly I found myself all alone. 

As quick as a snap, it’s suddenly dead silent

And I don’t mean “oh, someone closed their door and we can’t hear the kids any more” like seriously. It was unnaturally silent. No talk, no birds, no wind, no cars. The street was deserted. I couldn’t even hear myself breathing. I thought I had gone deaf at first! It was getting darker, only it was like an hour before that was supposed to happen and there weren’t any clouds near the sun. The air felt burning hot and freezing cold at the same time. I felt like a million eyes were watching me, except I was alone on a dark empty street, all the doors closed, all the curtains pulled shut. There wasn’t even so much as a squirrel or bunny running bye. I thought about calling out to Angie to see if she was still in the back yard, to see if she noticed anything, but the bushes weren’t rustling or moving at all. She wasn’t there. I was 100% alone. 

I start hearing a quiet, deep, throaty chuckling. 

I had been standing still in the same spot from where I watched my friend disappear through the bushes. At the sound, I slowly turned around. 

I was standing directly across from a fucking sewer.

It was too dark to see into it, and yes, I was 100% expecting that fucking clown face. But it was too dark. I couldn’t see anything. I still couldn’t hear myself breathing. All I could hear was this terrifying chuckle going on and on. I felt like if I moved something would pounce on me, like I was a rabbit playing statue. 

Now, I’ve mentioned on here before that I was That Asshole Kid who kept having weird paranormal experiences, and this was a lot more intense than I was used to. Like, shit, I’d had panic attacks over way less than this. I literally thought I was about to die.

And then…something in me kind of snapped. 

I don’t know what, exactly- if I was just tired of always being scared by this crap, or if it was some newfound teenage attitude, or just a primal urge of ‘hey I don’t wanna die’, or if the laughter just ignited something in me, but I just…snapped. 

I looked directly into the pitch dark in that sewer, and I said, loudly, over the still ongoing laughter, and more confident than I’ve ever felt in my life, “No. I am absolutely not doing this right now. You don’t actually need to screw with me, you’re doing this for what, fun? Attention? Find it somewhere else. I am not dying right after my thirteenth birthday.” The laughter got louder at that, more obnoxious. It just pissed me off even more. I made myself step off the sidewalk, and got to the middle of the street, still staring into the pitch black sewer and hoped I was making some intimidating eye contact. “What do I need to do for you to leave me the hell alone? You want my soul, or something? You want me to just pledge alliance to you or some bullshit? I will! All Hail This Creep, or whatever you go by! I’ll do what you want if you leave me alone!” 

And…the creepy laughter trailed off for a moment at that. Back to full, unnatural silence for a minute or so, before the disembodied voice let out an intrigued sounding, “Hmm.”

Next thing I know, the sky’s back a full, bright light that’s making me blink back stars from the sudden change, the wind’s blowing all over the place, and I jumped out of the middle of the street to narrowly avoid getting hit by a car that hadn’t been there a literal second ago. I still felt a little watched, but not as intensely as before. Everything seemed to be completely back to normal. I went back home (constantly glancing over my shoulder) and went on with the rest of the day. Went on with the rest of my life.

But, uh…sometimes this whole scene just comes back to me, and I can’t help but wonder about it. 

Siniy (Chap. 1)

A/N: yaaay! I finally posted part 2! :D The time line will be slightly different than the original CACW, but only by a bit, especially in the next chapter! I hope you guys like it! ENJOY! - Delilah  ❤️

P.S. How do you think alien sex would go with Bucky? ;) 

Siniy: Reader is an Avenger with her good friends, but unlike them, she’s not a demi god, millionaire, super soldier, or a science experiment. She’s got a whole other dilemma: she’s not of this world. Things happen, and she finds herself on the run with Team Cap in Bucharest, along with catching the eye of Bucky Barnes.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Alien Reader

Warnings: Swearing. Slight angst. Slight suicidal thoughts. Teasing. Emo Steve lol. Sassy Sam. 


Do you know who I am?” 

You’re Steve,” Bucky replied with a small, nostalgic smile. “Your mom’s name was Sarah. You used to wear newspapers in your shoes.”

You gently ran your tongue over your busted lip, tasting the saltiness of the blood that formed there each time you did so. You could feel the bruise forming underneath your eye and you were positive it was swelling now. You didn’t mind it, though, you would heal soon. You always did.

Today, you had found out that Bucky Barnes was strong; really fucking strong. Strong enough to catch you in mid-teleportation and slam you into various objects, including T’challa. Somehow, he’d managed to go into full Winter Soldier mode after speaking to a therapist, which resulted in numerous casualties. You were the first one in his way, which meant you got the full package.

You were able to stun him though; you didn’t even have to touch him. Your appearance alone was enough to throw him off. You let out a snort as you realized he’d probably never knew about the modern hair styles, only, yours wasn’t from a dye job. You were an actual alien.

But your appearance wasn’t enough apparently, as he drove his flesh fist into your face, amongst other things. You weren’t going to hold that against him or anything and you would get over it soon.  

“What did I do?” Bucky asked as he avoided everyone’s eyes.

“A lot.” Sam sassed, crossing his arms in disappointment. He hadn’t seen the man for more than three hours, and he hated him already.

He’s a lunatic. 

You heard his thoughts as if they were being spoken aloud.

Perhaps he was right, but that wasn’t what concerned you at the moment. Usually, you could hear any person’s thoughts, no matter how big or small they were. You could hear every single word clearly, but for some reason- you had no idea why -you couldn’t read Bucky Barnes’ thoughts even if your life depended on it. And that scared the living shit out of you.

All you could gather was single words, but the one he was thinking of was extremely eerie.

The only thing you could pick up was: kill 

And he was talking about himself.

You found yourself staring at him shamelessly. you had no idea who this man really was, but if Steve was willing to flat out trust him after what had just happened, then you were putting this all on him. You had no intentions of involving any other people, but the way this was going, and the way Sam whispered to Steve that he “knew a guy”, you weren’t so sure about keeping a low profile. 

“We should get a car at some point.” You chimed in, causing everyone to look over at you. Immediately, as soon as Bucky’s eyes landed on you, his jaw nearly hit the floor. His eyes focused on your face, his brows furrowing. You had no idea why he was staring, but it was making you so self conscious. 

Steve nodded, grabbing his leather jacket and slipping it over his shoulders. 

“Alright guys,” he spoke, his voice echoing along the walls of the warehouse. 

“Let’s get moving.”



The gentle rumbling of the small car you were in was the only audible thing. Along with Sam’s game of Tetris on his phone. 

You specifically asked Steve to find a low profile car, but one with leg room so that you could breathe without feeling like you were being suffocated. But nope, as soon as he returned in the little navy blue beetle, you made a mental note to never trust him with cars again. 

You let out a sigh as you heard the same lousy word over and over again, clouding your mind and breaking your train of thought: blue.

And it was coming from one person. 

It was being repeated over and over to the point where you were growing highly agitated. You peered over the seat at Steve, who was focused on the road ahead of him. Sam was playing Tetris on his phone silently, his face set in a concentrated frown. Bucky was staring out the window, but occasionally, he’d send you side glances before looking away quickly. If you weren’t annoyed, you’d find his actions a bit cute, just like him.

It was so wrong, you knew that. However, it was pretty much a scientific fact. Bucky Barnes was really handsome for someone who’s an ex brainwashed hydra assassin of seventy years and you were just looking. That’s all. The way he looked at you in the warehouse confirmed that he didn’t find you attractive one bit. 

But you didn’t blame him. Who would like some girl with unnatural blue hair and matching eyebrows. You were a giant target for bullying. 

But now, the word was growing louder and his looks were becoming less cautious and more frequent, which was pushing all the wrong buttons. Why couldn’t he think about the weather like Steve or chicken nuggets like Sam?

You felt the last of your restraint leave you as you heard another word from his mind.

Weird.

You ripped off the little navy blue cap from your head and turned so that you were staring directly at Bucky. The man jumped slightly and turned to you, his face in a small frown.

Yes, my hair is blue!” you snapped, your brows furrowing with annoyance. “Just fucking look at it and get it over with, okay?” You took a strand of hair and placed it in his face dramatically and flailed it around. Bucky let out a grunt and craned his head in the opposite direction.

His metal hand reached out and grabbed a hold of your hand with a little too much force.

“What’s going on back there?” Steve eyed the both of you in the rear view mirror, his eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“Tell your friend to stop staring at me!” you exclaimed.

“I wasn’t staring, I was admiring. There’s a difference!” He responded with the same amount of malice as he pushed you away from him. You grabbed another piece of hair and jammed it in his face, forcing him to look at it. You were so fed up with everything. This entire week had been extremely tiring for you and you were at your breaking point.

“Oh my god,” Sam groaned as he ran his hands over his face. You could hear his thoughts, which consisted of nothing but insults and complaints that were aimed towards you and Bucky, also Steve for not driving fast enough. He hastily reached over to the small radio and cranked up the volume button as high as it could go, much to you and Bucky’s annoyance. You squeaked, covering your ears with your hands as the loud rock music blared through the speakers and vibrated throughout the car.

“What is wrong with you three?” Steve exclaimed, before turning the radio down until it was at a normal frequency. “You’re acting like children right now!” When you realized that you were still leaned up on Bucky, you blushed and scooted as far as you could. He, on the other hand, seemed slightly bothered.

From then on, the three of you were completely silent, with the exceptional complaint from Sam and the occasional sigh from yourself. You were aching all over, but Steve made it clear at the beginning of the drive that there would be no stops unless it was an absolute emergency.

As you leaned against the window, watching the scenery pass you by, you perked up once you heard the familiar sounds of a weather broadcast. Unfortunately, it was only in German, which you had absolutely no idea how to speak, much less understand.

“What’s going on?” you asked as you peered over and rested your chin on the leather shoulder of Steve’s seat. He shrugged before turning the radio louder. Once again, you had no idea what was happening. What if there was a tornado or something?

“I have no clue. I can’t speak German.” Steve confessed with a small sheepish smile.

“I can only speak profanity,” Sam chimed as he gave you a small thumbs up.

You frowned as you sat back into your seat. You were staring up at the sky as you listened to the German forecast. You couldn’t help but notice how dark the sky was getting and it was bothering you quite a bit. What if there was an actual emergency? You didn’t want to get sucked into a tornado or get caught in a hurricane. You couldn’t swim to save your life.

“They’re saying that there’s a thunderstorm coming.” Bucky chimed, causing the three of you to turn and look at him in surprise. “There’s a high chance of softball sized hail and thirty mile per hour winds as well. Also, we should get to safety. It’s not a good idea to drive during something like that.” He included with a small nod.  


After arguing with Sam about the German directions on the map, you plucked it from his hands and set it in Bucky’s lap, asking him to show you all to the nearest motel. 

And to your luck, there was a small, run down little motel just a mile away. 

But to your dismay, it was practically filled. 

“All the other rooms were filled,” Bucky explained as he handed Steve a motel key. A single hotel key, might you add. “All they had was this one, but there’s only two beds.”

The four of you were standing outside the motel room. You managed to grab some snacks and sodas from the vending machine, which you may or may not have picked the lock to get. Desperate times called for desperate measures. 

You raised your eyebrow as you stared at the man. You weren’t shy, not at all, but you didn’t know him at all. From what you experienced earlier, he wasn’t as crazy as everyone made him out to be, but still, you were cautious. You’ll admit now, you liked how he was staring at you, but this was a mission, not one of those bachelorette series from TV.

“That’s fine,” Steve said with a tired smile. “Let’s just get some rest. We’ll leave in the morning.”

What Bucky failed to mention, was that the room was the smoking room, which would’ve been nice if he had given you guys a heads up. You hated how cigarettes smelled, it made you nauseous.

The two king sized beds were covered with stiff sheets and comforters, but you didn’t care. You just wanted to shower and get whatever rest you could before tomorrow. That is, if Tony didn’t come busting in here in the middle of the night and arrest all of you.

Steve unlocked the hotel door and opened it, immediately you were bombarded with the stench of cigarette smoke. You felt a wave of nausea hit you at full force. You covered your mouth, trying to block out the smell, but it was practically everywhere now and you couldn’t stop the bile that slowly began rising up your throat.

You felt Sam’s hand on your shoulder and gently shake you.

“Y/N?” he asked, the wariness was evident in his voice. “Are you alright?”

You felt yourself heaving as you headed straight for the bathroom. You slammed the door shut with a loud boom and fell to your knees, emptying your stomach into the porcelain bowl. 

“On second thought,” Sam called from the other side of the door. “You can have the first shower. Just please don’t puke in there either, kiddo.” 

You let out a small groan, placing your elbows onto the toilet bowl and running your hands through your hair. How you were going to sleep in this mess was beyond you. Maybe if you slept with the window open, that would help? But given the two highly paranoid super soldiers, that was probably unlikely.

With a small, defeated sigh, you gathered enough strength to stand and began stripping off all of your clothes. 

You pulled back the plastic shower curtain and turned the knob, filling the room with the sounds of water cascading down the tiles. 

This was going to be a long night. 


“I am not sharing a bed with him!” Sam spoke, crossing his arms as he stood at the edge of the bed.

You and Steve both let out matching groans, only yours was full of rage instead of annoyance. It was a bed, for Christ’s sake! Bucky wasn’t going to fondle him in his sleep, if that’s what he was afraid of. And Sam, bless his soul, the worst he could do was fart in his sleep, because there had been many times where the team had both witnessed and heard it happen. 

You agrily kicked off the covers, sending them flying off of Steve in the process. You had no kind of sleeping shorts, which meant you were left only in litlte white cotton panties and one of Steve’s oversized shirts, which seemed to only cause more of a hassle. Your clothes were currently in the small washing machine down the hall, which meant you were having to borrow Steve’s, which practically went down to your thighs.

Bucky and Steve practically had heart attacks when they came back room from their gas station run and saw you sprawled out on the bed, watching the the news channel. Steve immediately shielded his eyes, while Bucky avoided yours with any means. 

You hastily shoved past Sam as you ripped the covers back from the second bed and plopped down with an angry sigh. You were so done with his shit. How was he allowed to be an Avenger even though he acted like a pre-teen girl? You had no clue.

“Thank you, Y/N.” Sam sung as he settled into bed with Steve, sending you a shit eating grin and batting those eyelashes of his. You responded with a silent middle finger, one that you wished you could poke him in the eye with.

Slowly, as time inched on, everyone began falling asleep. 

Except for you, you were wide awake. 

You stared up at the ceiling, watching as the ceiling fan whizzed in rapid circles. The only light was coming from the giant neon motel sign, which just so happened to be positioned right by your room. It filled the entire room with eerie purple streaks of light. 

With a sigh, you rolled onto your side. You expected to see Bucky asleep like the others, but to your surprise, he was wide awake. And staring directly at you. 

“Why are you awake?” you whispered to him. Your eyes were focused on his as he stared back with an unreadable expression. The way he stared at you, made you feel so vulnerable and it brought out all your insecurities.

“I can’t sleep.” He confessed with a low voice. You felt yourself growing hot and bothered by the way his voice sounded; deep and full of sleepiness. You felt a wave of arousal grow between your legs as you watched his eyes shift to your lips.

“We’re probably going to prison tomorrow,” you whispered, along with a bitter laugh. “You should enjoy being comfortable while you can.” His brows furrowed as he watched your reaction. You would give anything to know what he was thinking right now. Was he interested in you? Did he think you were pretty? Most men didn’t unless they were into some fetish-y type of stuff.

“If that happens,” he said, his voice growing deeper. His eyes burning into yours. You fought your inner instincts to lean in closer to him. “I’ll take the blame for everything. This has nothing to do with you.”

Just like that, that’s when you heard it.

Beautiful.

You blinked, feeling your cheeks heat up. You had never been called beautiful before, much less through someones thoughts and it scared you a bit. Here was a strange man you’ve only known for a a few hours, yet he was calling you beautiful. He was pressing all the right buttons.

You let out a small, but obviously fake yawn. “We should try and get some sleep now,” you whispered, turning onto your opposite side. “Night, Bucky.” You were far from sleepy now, in fact, you’ve never been more awake. You felt as though every cell in your body was humming with some foreign feeling you had no idea how to express.    

But just as you swore you were going to pull an all nighter, you felt your mind becoming fuzzy, your eyes drooping with tiredness. 

The last thing on your mind as you felt yourself being taken away by slumber, was the word repeating one last time in your brain. 

Beautiful. 


- Fin!

Tag list of super awesome people! ❤️

@sebbylover24 @softwintersoldier @ballerinafairyprincess @harrisbn @ifoundlove-x0vanessa0x @abigailredgrave @loricameback @amrita31199 @jezzula @jenna-luke @gerardwayisapotato @lovably17 @universal-glitch @megandrawsspace @meganlane84 @captainfbffangirl99 @firebendergirl33 @netflixa @abovethesmokestacks @addictivewriter @amillionfandoms-onlyoneme @chamongangae @fab-notfat @gingerbatchwife @fvckthesystem83 @sebbyismyking @the-lazy-leprechaun @4theluvofall @monsis-world @38leticia @themistsofmyavalon @topthis808 @gabbyrogers094 @ihavetwobuckystomyname @moonbaby38 @jamesbarnesblog @sebbeanstan @bellaballanda @livforthegames @twinklingstarlight @callmeoncette @tatortot2701 @i-write-tragedies-and-sins @nottheopera @melconnor2007 @marveloussssworld @lostinspace33 @beebossinner @shadowpriestess6 @buckyshattergirl @chou-maitresse @lovelynemesis @kaykayvoltage53 @marvelatthepeople @adrianabribiescacortes @permanent-lines @dracu-ma-bucky @shieldagentofthemonth @witheringblooddemon @diana-daydreamer @fandomlover2001 @netflixa @imgettingmarriedtobuckybarnes @sheriwallace123 @the-winter-avengerrrrr @lokid-by-winters-child @hillrich @peachbucky @do-you-mind-if-i-slytherin1 @kianya-loves @eireannhwb @the-witching-hours12-3 @watergirl1996 @screamlikealunatic @hopelessgarbage @thatpunkrockfandomchick @glitterbras @imsecretlyromanburki @sammnipple @barnescrazy @winterboobaer @kaitskennedyy @astralbarnes @queen–valeskaxx @supersoldier-buckybarnes @crazinessgraveyardsandcartoons

If I accidentally forgot to tag you, or your tags don’t work, pls let me know guys! (I promise you’re not a bother!) 

Tags are open for this series babez ;)

I hate it when guys like you call women like us ‘complicated.’ It disturbs parts of my soul that I didn’t even know existed, because we’re not. All we want is for the person that we’re with to go as hard for us as we go for them. Balance. What’s so complicated about that? Nothing. What’s so wrong with that? Fucking nothing. But you’ll make it seem like it’s the most unnatural and worst thing in this world, and for what? Oh, because you got lazy. Because you got selfish. Because somewhere along the line you decided that you didn’t want to do your part anymore, but wanted us to continue doing ours think about that. Are we really complicated, or are you the one making things complicated with your fucking bullshit? Know yourself.
—  Cici B.

I did a quick drabble for @krusca who shares wonderful art with us and deserves nice things.  

“We should get married,” Steve said, wearing a wide, goofy grin as he leaned his elbows on the table and wiped his hands with the napkin Tony had thrown his way.

“Because I make a mean manicotti?” Tony asked.  The espresso machine was brewing, making a low, whistling sound that made Clint cough something that sounded an awful lot like Pavlov whenever he heard it.  

“Because we’d be good together,” Steve replied, still beaming at Tony, who couldn’t help but return the smile, shaking his head as he did.  “We are good together.”

“What with all of our shared life experiences?” Tony retorted with a low huff of disbelief, then made a happy, humming noise when the espresso machine clicked off.  “Come on, old man.  The park thing with the flowers?  That was Lang’s idea, wasn’t it?”

“He wasn’t supposed to actually be on the flowers,” Steve muttered.

“That whole post-battle thing with the fire hydrant going off and it was all wet and very Notebook-y and, don’t get me wrong, I was this close to offering to build you the house of your dreams, but, you know, one of these days, some tabloid or gossip rag’s going to hear you, take you seriously and then you’ll have to make an honest man out of me,” Tony warned with what he meant as a leer, though his face felt tight, unnatural, like it didn’t quite want to follow through on what his brain was telling it to do and ended up caught halfway to something else entirely.

“I’m trying,” Steve told him, the grin dropping off his face.  It was theoretically possible he was actually listening to what Tony was saying, Tony figured, in the flash of seconds before the beatific smile was back, this time more practiced, though, the kind of smile that held a giant you-can-all-kiss-my-ass behind it.  Tony thought it might be his favorite.  Not that he…cataloged Steve’s smiles. Which would be weird.  And was something he was definitely not doing. “Maybe they will hear. I wouldn’t care.”

“Flattered as I am,” Tony began, taking a sip of his espresso and letting it roll around his tongue before swallowing.  Something flickered across Steve’s face, and he dropped his eyes down to his empty plate for a moment before raising them back to Tony.  “We can’t have your reputation suffering by association, Cap. Besides, I did defiling an American icon when I was sixteen and got to third base with Sandra Boswell on top of Dad’s roadster.  Please don’t look for deeper meaning in that.  It was close and wipeable.”

“Why would my reputation suffer?” Steve asked.  “You’re a great catch.  Smart. Funny.  Handsome.  Look at all you’ve done, not just for us, but with the Maria Stark Foundation. That thing at MIT.  The clean energy, intellicrops, the—“

“Pepper send you the PR brochure?” Tony snorted.  

“You’re a good man, Tony. Sorry.  I don’t mean to…make you uncomfortable,” Steve replied, a bit haltingly, frowning around the words.  

“Ah, Cap, don’t do that. With the…the kicked puppy face thing. You’re killing me,” Tony said as lightly as he could manage.  His chest was tight and his stomach was doing that swooping thing it did whenever Steve complimented him, which, come to think of it, was a lot lately.  Guy probably had it on one of his to-do lists. Say Something Nice About Tony. Check. “Wanna watch a movie?  Nothing romantic.  You might get ideas,” Tony laughed, coughing and wiping a hand over his mouth as he did because it sounded wrong.  Less like a laugh and more like…something that wasn’t a laugh at all.  “Something really disturbing and deeply unsettling, like, I don’t know, Alien or the one where the woman wants to screw the animated bee.”

“Okay, Tony,” Steve said, the smile back, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes, Tony noticed.

Y‘know a mixed race Harry Potter is something I’d never once considered before tumblr. But it would make a lot of sense - jet black hair that won’t lie flat, and Rowling very rarely describes the skin colour of her characters. I mean Dean, Kingsley, Angelina, Zabini; all canonly black, Cho is canonly chinese, but good luck finding any indication of that in the books description of them. In fact the only times I can recall her describing skin colour at all are in instances where someone is unnaturally pale, like Voldemort.

It could add layers to the books too; like Harry’s half blood status. Except in the Wizarding World it isn’t his black father thats ‘shameful’; James was from an old wizarding family, the Potter name carries respect. The ‘shameful’ side of his heritage comes from his muggleborn mother.

Being Damian’s Only Girlfriend

- Damian Wayne, despite being his fathers son, only had one girlfriend for his entire life.

- If anyone thinks he’d go into a relationship thinking it would end, they are wrong.

- You two met at Gotham Academy and you accused him of being Robin on the second day of term

- You made sure no one was around, but to you it was was just too obvious.

- The fact you figured it out and ended up catching him on a roof that same night, after he’d denied everything, made him respect you.

- It also meant he had to keep a close eye on you, make sure you didn’t tell anyone.

- Since he was hanging around you, you decided to actually befriend him.

- “Hey bestie.” you’d say loudly whenever you saw him.

- It had taken him a while to understand what you were doing.

- “She’s saying your her best friend.” Jon explained to him on one of their missions. Damian had been talking about you non stop. It seemed like he was both infuriated and in awe of you. Ranting with emotion instead of complaining and being cold.

- “But we barely know each other and it’s so annoying. The way she smiles when she see’s me. People shouldn’t smile at me, they should fear me.”

- “You are the night!” Jon mocked and Damian punched him. “She’s probably just saying it because she’s going to be your best friend, and because she knows it confuses you. Fight fire with fire.”

- So that’s what Damian did.

- “Hello, best friend.” he tried. It sounded so formal when he said.

- You had laughed “Knew you’d come around.”

- Soon you both started sitting together and actually talking. Actually becoming really close friends.

- You always partnered up and would often study together.

- Whenever you went to Wayne Manor, Damian always tried to plan it when he thought nobody else would be home.

- Somehow, someone was always there. Almost like Tim hacked Damian’s phone after seeing him smiling.

- Damian Wayne didn’t smile.

- You two had been sitting in the garden when Tim sat down with you.

- “You youngins need any help.” Tim had had the most contact with you, and you knew Damian didn’t like him.

- “'Cos you didn’t sound a thousand there.” you joked

- “Get lost, Drake.”

- “That’s no way to speak to your wonderful older brother.”

- “Wonderful is the last word I’d use to describe someone whose more coffee than human.”

- “Oh! I know why you’re so grouchy. I’m crashing a date, aren’t I! I’ll leave you two love birds to it.” he tried to run away but Damian flung a knife at his ear.

- Tim managed to just duck in time.

- “Damian!” Bruce yelled from the house.

- “My hand slipped!” he shouted back.

- You both knew his entire clan where spying on you.

- That spot in the garden became your guys spot. Whenever it was nice enough to be outside, you guys would be there.

- Damian attempted to teach you how to use a sword, it didn’t go very well.

- He’d liked spending time with you though.

- Instead, it turned out you were really good a throwing knives.

- Like unnaturally good at it.

- Whenever there was someone extremely dangerous on the loose, Damian would come by your house in his Robin gear and drop off a set of throwing knives.

- Knowing he was Robin from the begin was extremely useful for your relationship.

- You often helped cover for him when he had to disappear, or if he was gone for a long time without warning.

- He realised he was falling in love with you, you had been sitting in the sun and day dreaming.

- You guys were supposed to be doing homework, but you’d become bored.

- He had looked over to see you smiling and half asleep.

- Someone just clicked in his head. He wanted to see you like that forever. He wanted to be the reason you looked so at peace.

- When you realised you were falling in love with him was during an accident as Robin.

- You two had been at a school disco together, older kids were using to raise money.

- He was upset about leaving, he’d wanted to test the idea of a relationship with you.

- He’d been acting strange, so you swung by Wayne Manor to wait for him to get back.

- Alfred seemed overly concerned about something but didn’t tell you.

- After it was nearly early morning, you were pacing the kitchen and making cookies.

- “I really advise that you go to sleep.” Alfred tried

- “No, I’m stressed. Too stressed for sleep. When I’m stressed and cook.” you pulled the tray out of the oven.

- “I’m sure Master Damian is fine.”

- “Then why aren’t they back yet? Damian said it would be a relatively easy job.”

- That was when Bruce had come crashing in with Damian in his arms.

- You had waited with the rest of the family, feeling completely numb.

- What if Damian died? What would you do then?

- Thinking about how you might loose him every night suddenly came to smack you in the head. You cared to much about him to loose him.

- You needed to let him know that you liked him.

- “Aren’t you a bit over dressed for three in the morning?” Dick commented.

- “We had been at a school thing…” your voice was quiet and you had made another load of cookies. “I came here because he’d been acting weird and I wanted…I…wanted to talk to him about it.”

- “He’ll be fine.” Dick assured you. Despite being in their lives for years, this was the first time you were fully aware of how dangerous being Robin was.

- Guess you’d been a bit naïve before.

- “Keep making cookies, these are really good.” Tim nodded, stuffing another one into his mouth. Steph smacked him on the back of the head.

- Damian was banned from patrolling for two weeks.

- Instead the two of you spent almost all of your time together. Both awkwardly skirting around the fact you liked each other.

- When Damian found out how worried you’d been, curtesy of Dick, he decided to tell you about his feelings.

- You two sat in a room for an hour and a half, talking through the relationship

- You talked from dealing with Robin stress to life goal and how a relationship would fit with that. Maybe that wasn’t what most seventeen years did when they got together but you didn’t care.

- The family had been eavesdropping the entire time, only stopping when Tim laughed a bit to loud and a knife just missed the top of his head - through the door.

- “You know that’s not how most relationships start right?” Tim said once you left.

- “I don’t plan on having to start another one, so that doesn’t matter.” he had a stupid smile on his face for the next week..

-  He meant it too. He didn’t plan on dating anyone but you.

- Even when you both went to different universities, your relationship plan covered when dates would happen.

- He was doing business and you were studying forensics science and decided to get a degree in art history too.

- Suddenly your schedule seemed busier than his.

- You were still both happy and very much in love with each other.

- Since you were both studying in Gotham, the obvious solution was to move in together.

- You found it hilarious, watching Damian attempt to live without a butler.

- He was a fast learner though.

- The only time there was a hitch in your guys plan, was when you got the chance to study in Paris for a year.

- You both thought long distance wouldn’t be that hard for you, but it was.

- Both of you thought you might end up breaking up, neither of you wanted to though.

- “If it doesn’t work with Y/N, then it’s never going to work.” Damian sulked to Jon.

- “That’s what everyone says about there first long term love.” Jon rolled his eyes.

- “She’s more than that.” Damian scowled

- Damian ended up getting himself extremely injured since he was thinking about you.

- Alfred phoned you and when you found out, you were on the first flight back to Gotham.

- “Y/N.” Damian said, he was on bed rest. “You need to be in Paris,”

- “I need to be here with you.”

- You did go back to Paris, but Damian took a small break to go with you, helping cleaning up the streets of Paris.

- The next hick in your guys plan wasn’t as bad.

- “Damian!” you yelled from the bathroom after throwing up. You had been late and now you were throwing up.

- “Are you okay?” he rushed to your side on the bathroom floor.

- “I think I’m pregnant.”

- “What?” he was panicking. You guys were supposed to get married first.

- “Pregnant.” you said a it slower.

- “As in baby?”

- “As in baby.”

- He was silent for a while.

- “That’s great.”

- “Really?” you asked, unsure on whether he was telling the truth.

- “It just means we’re going to organising a wedding with less time than I thought. The rings hidden in my shoe is you want me to go get it.” he said it so casually that you almost missed the fact he was proposing.

- “Ring?”

- “I was going to propose anyway.”

- “I thought marriage was a little bit later on the timeline?” you teased.

- “So you don’t want to get married?” he frowned.

- “Of course I want to get married, you idiot.”

Happy Birthday to me 🎉🎉Thought I’d share this little mess in celebration. Also, happy birthday to my birthday twin @a-fallen-little-pine-cone 🎉🎉
Rachel Amber

is exactly how I thought she would be.

LiS built her up to be this goddess, a “muse,” the life-of-the-party that everyone loved. People wanted to be her and be with her. You never see her in person, but people have tons of photos and drawings and stories that make her out to be some sort of Greek diety, like she was so larger-than-life that it was hard to believe she ever existed. Over the course of the game, Max finds the cracks in that facade and finds Rachel to be a bit of a pushover and a liar, but those who were closest to her never stop adoring her (specifically Chloe and Frank).

We finally see her in all her glory, the height of her popularity and from the perspective of someone who loved her unconditionally. From her voice to her aesthetic, her attitude and her hobbies, she’s exactly how I envisioned her.

She’s a cocky teenager with lofty ideals. She speaks her mind and isn’t about to let someone walk over her. Her actions show that she puts on a good show, looking the part of a total badass in public, but is selfish and direct in private, thought the transition doesn’t feel unnatural, like it was always there. She’s a fire that needs to be stoked or it’ll go out.

Chloe in LiS is very much like Rachel in BtS. Now, we see where she got it from.

The cereal debate

So this kind of ended up being 2,4k words long… I’m sorry it took me so long but at 3am my brain just wanted to sleep. So I continued writing in the morning while eating my cereal. With cereal first. Even though I’m normally on the milk team but you guys made me curious to try it out. (Can I be bicereal?)Anyways thanks to @hyyunjinn @belazygirl @seungminies @strayskid and @felixsfreckles (I hope I didn’t forget anyone, if so just tell me) for the support and inspiration. Hope you guys like it! (By the way, I’m also going to post this on ao3 as soon as I find the time).



“What. Are. You. Doing?” Minho turns around, looking at a offended seeming Changbin in confusion.

“What does it look like? I’m making cereal.”

“No but how?!”

“Uh, by pouring milk into a bowl? Do you need me to teach you how to do that? As soon as the cap is open it’s pretty easy.”

“No. I mean you can’t put the milk in first!”

Still not grasping the problem, Minho looks for help, getting his hopes up when Jisung pokes his head through the kitchen door. Only for that hope to immediately get crushed again.

“WHO PUTS MILK IN FIRST?!”

“MINHO-HYUNG!”

Suddenly the room is filled with a mess of Jisung’s and Changbin’s voices talking over each other. It’s confusing really, Minho can’t understand a word between their quick talking and wild gesturing. His brain is still halfway asleep. There’s only one thing that can save him now.

“Chan, help!”

“Huh?”

Thank god he heard it.

“Chan-hyung won’t be able to help you out of this!” Jisung shouts just as their leader, still tired, rubbing his eyes and wearing nothing but boxer shorts and a huge hoodie, enters the room.

“Hyung! Please teach Minho how to make cereal.” A somewhat relieved expression takes over Changbin’s face while he crosses his arms in front of his chest.

“What? Minho, please tell me you do know how to make cereal.”

“Of course I do! But for whatever reason those two are freaking out over it.”

“Because he puts the milk in first!”

“What?” Chan raises his brow at the two shocked boys in front of him. “Seriously, that’s why your shouting like this?”

“Because it’s unnatural!” Jisung shots back, Changbin only shakes his head at Chan’s ignorance.

“Unnatural? Because he puts the milk in first? That’s how I’ve been eating my cereal for the past 20 years.”

Both Changbin and Jisung gasp, looking at him with wide eyes. Jisung almost looks hurt, Changbin’s expression seems more like that of disappointed and betrayal.

“I should have known things would be crazy in down-under.”

“I trusted you.” Jisung says with a shake of his head before stepping closer to Changbin and letting himself get pulled into a quick hug by the elder.

“What the fuck…” Minho, who watched the entire discussion with the pack of milk still in his hand, whispers in still ongoing confusion. He  exchanges a look with Chan and is about to speak up again when he is interrupted by a deep, raspy voice coming from the door.

“What’s wrong? Why does Jisung looks like he’s about to cry?”

“I’d like to tell you, but I still don’t get what just happened.”

“Milk or cereal first?” Chan explains, looking at Felix expectantly.

“Why would anyone put the cereal in first?”

“Not you too!”

“Fucking Aussies.”

“EXCUSE ME?!” If it wasn’t for Chan holding him back by the arms Felix would have surely jumped at Changbin and scratch his eyes out for the last comment. Luckily, Chan is stronger than the younger so holding him in place isn’t too difficult, even though he’s still tired as hell and has no idea how they got into this mess.

“Come on, everyone. Don’t get personal.”

“This got personal the second the second he touched the milk!” Jisung exclaims, pointing at Minho behind him.

“He did what?” Everyone turns around, finding their youngest band member walking into the already cramped kitchen. “What’s the sense of putting the milk in first?”

“So the cereal doesn’t get all soaked and sludgy?”

“Fuck yeah, Hyunjin!” Felix screams, pressing through the crowd of people inside the small room and dabbing after successfully getting his high five from Hyunjin at the doorway.

“I can’t believe we’re about to loose in numbers.” Jisung whispers, resulting in Changbin pulling him closer again.

“Don’t worry, I got this. Woojin-hyung!”

“What? Oh, are we having a group meeting in the kitchen?”

“Something like that. Milk or cereal first?”

“Cereal of course.”

“Yay!”

“Not. So. Fast.” Felix intervenes, a little smirk on his face as he steps closer until he’s right in front of Jisung and Changbin. Everyone’s gaze is directed at him as he speaks up again, barely loud enough for the rest of the band to hear. “Seungmin is still missing.”

A moment of silence passes before everyone (mostly Jisung and Felix (but also the rest (even if not 100% voluntarily in Minho’s case))) make a run for it, dashing into the room Felix shares with Seungmin. Later is still asleep. Well he was. Half a dozen people flooding the room, accompanied by lots of voices wake him up immediately.

“What’s happening? Why is everyone here?” Drowsy and bed-haired Seungmin slowly sits up in his bed. Takes a look around. And closes his eyes again. Awestruck silence fills the room at all the cuteness displayed by one of their youngest members.

“Aww. I mean. Uh. Seungmin. Really important question.” In that moment Changbin thanks every god in existence that Seungmin is still way too far in dreamland to notice the low chuckles coming from the others. “Milk or cereal first?”

“What?” Very far in dreamland.

“Come on everyone, let’s give him time to wake up properly first.” With that Chan chases everyone out the door and into the living room.

~

The time afterwards is filled with tense silence. Really, the dorms has never been this quiet before. It’s kind of ridiculous how they all divided into two groups, even sitting down on the couch as far away from the other group as possible. Minute after minute passes until eventually Jisung is the one to speak up again.

“I still can’t believe it. All this time we’ve lived together you two have been eating your cereal the wrong way. Good thing you didn’t infect Jeonginnie.” Team cereal simultaneously gathers into a group hug around the maknae as if they had to shield him from the bad influence of pouring the milk before the cereal.

“Guys, it’s still just cereal.” Chan tries to reason but is immediately cut off by Felix next to him.

“It’s not just cereal, hyung. This is a matter of upbringing.”

“Like a religion.” Hyunjin agrees, giving Felix another high five. And letting him dab.

“Don’t tell me you guys still haven’t solved the cereal discussion.” Everybody turns to Minho who is by now eating his bowl of cereal in the quiet before the storm aura filling the dorm.

“Quiet, milk-pourer!” Team cereal instantly tightens his hold around each other. At the same time Hyunjin and Felix cuddle up to either side of Chan, forming a pile of team milk.

“Unbelievable.” Minho mutters before shoving another spoon full of cereal into his mouth.

“What’s going on in here?”

“Seungmin!” Half the band suddenly jumps up  and crowds the newly awake band member. Being the reasonable leader, and feeling like the only sane person left together with Minho, Chan tries to at least hold his time back. Though Hyunjin is out of his grasp in the blink of an eye, he somehow manages to keep Felix on the couch. That’s how Seungmin ends up with “only” five of his band mates cornering him.

“Seungmini, milk or cereal first? You know cereal is the only way don’t you?”

“Stop trying to influence him, Woojin-hyung!” Again, Chan has to hold Felix back to prevent the situation from escalating.

“He’s not influencing, he’s saying the truth. Come on, Seungmin. How do you pour your cereal?”

“I… I usually put the milk in first.” Immediately, team cereal jumps away from him as though they just burned their hands on him, leaving Seungmin really confused at the extreme reaction. The confusion only grows when half of team milk, not even Chan being able to hold Felix back this time, throws itself at Seungmin.

“There’s actually more of them?” Disbelieve resounds in Jeongin’s voice, resulting in his time forming a hug around him as well.

“What do you mean ‘more’? Isn’t it 4:4?” Everyone stares at Minho, and his second bowl of cereal, in shock. Even Chan.

“What do you mean 4:4? What about you?”

“I’m neutral.” He continues eating his cereal as though he didn’t just shatter all his dongsaeng’s view of the world.

“How can you be neutral?! You’re the one who started this!”

“Actually, Changbin, you’re the one who started it. I only wanted to eat my cereal.”

“But you poured the milk in first, right? That means your in our team.” Hyunjin concludes but is met with a small chuckle from the elder.

“I pour whatever gets into my hand first into the bowl. Why is the order so important?”

“That’s crazy!”

“You monster!”

“Insane!”

Before Minho can comprehend what is happening he’s surrounded by people throwing complaints  at him. He tries to take a few steps back but his back soon hits the wall. Meanwhile the shouting only increases, getting louder with every passing second. “Guys, you’re going to spill my cereal!” They don’t seem to care. In fact, the sheer mention of cereal only urges them further until there’s only option left for Minho: making use of his agility and small build by squeezing through the crowd, making a run for the bathroom before the others notice him lock it. Everyone blinks in confusion when they realize he escaped. Then follows him to the bathroom. They’re about to start a knock concert at the door when Chan stops them.

“This has to stop! Come on let me through.” It takes a moment but eventually everyone steps aside, letting their leader step in front of the locked door. “Minho, please get out of there.”

“I’m not leaving this room until you guys sort your shit out and calm down for good.”

“What if someone has to use the bathroom.”

“We have plenty windows.”

“What?!”

“Hyung we can’t do that! We’ll have to use the bathroom sooner or later!”

“That’s because you milk-pourers end up with too much milk for your cereal.” Changbin throws at Hyunjin with a triumphant look.

“Enough of this! We’re solving this like adults now.”

“Not to be that person, Chan-hyung. But aren’t most of us underage?”

“Well, I’m not. Everyone sit down in the living room. I’ll be right back.”

~

The teams go back to their separate places on the couch, waiting for Chan to return. When he does, it’s with a flip chart. Jeongin is about to ask since when they’ve been hiding a flip chart in their dorm but is shushed by their band leader.
“Silence. Nobody speaks until I say their name.”

“Do we also have to raise our hand?”

“Yes, Felix you have to raise your hand. Now quiet please.”

With that Chan turns around, fetches a marker from his pocket and starts to make a chart – cereal on the right and milk on the left, the two sides divided by a thick line in the middle.

“We will make a list and then see which side wins. Woojin.”

“Does the loser team have to convert at the end?”

“No. Maybe. We’ll see. Team cereal, your first argument please.” They stick their heads together, then  Changbin raises his hand. “Yes?”

“Obviously, the cereal gets covered in milk and doesn’t just float at the surface.”
Chan nods and writes down “cereal covered in milk” down at the right side. When he turns around, team milk is already prepared for their turn.

“Felix.”

“The cereal stays crispy.”

“Why would y-”

“Ah! Wait until it’s your turn!” He writes down the argument before turning to the right side of the room again. “Now.”

“Where’s the point in using milk if you want the cereal to stay hard?”

“That’s not an argument, Jisung. It’s a question.”

“Fine. Cereal is supposed to become softer from the milk.”

Like that their professional goes back and forth. Cereal, milk, cereal, milk. It surprises all of them how many arguments they are able to come up with. The list grows longer and longer until all of them run out of things to say.

“Guys, I think we’re at a standoff.”

“No! That can’t be!”

“Jisung, one more team and your team will lose a point.”

“Just find a compromise already!”

“Minho?”

“I had to listen to everything. This is ridiculous. Please, just find a compromise already so I can leave this room in safety.”

“Okay, how about this:” Chan waits until he all the attention is concentrated on him before continuing. “Everyone switches today. We use the other option and try to understand the other team.” There are a few grunts and mumbled complaints but eventually everyone agrees to the plan. “Minho, the coast is clear.”

“Finally. I can’t believe this took us over entire hour.”

~

That day, team cereal eats their cereal with milk first for the first time. Woojin is even brave enough to try Seungmin’s way of warming the milk in the microwave before pouring  the cereal into the bowl. Team milk on the other hand tries out starting with the cereal. Everyone watches in fascination, enjoying the strangely satisfying view of milk raising from underneath the cereal. In the end everyone has to admit that both side have their advantages. On Minho’s request they even group hug and promise to never let a fight escalate like that.

“I have to say though, I’m relieved this was our first fight.” Everyone throws confused looks at Chan, urging him to explain. “Well imagine if our first fight would have been over something serious. It would have been bad of we had gotten into a fight about the choreography or something like that. I’m glad we’re fighting over something like the order of pouring milk and cereal. If we can have a fight purely about a topic like that, doesn’t that show how well we get along? That we don’t have anything more grave to fight over?” Everyone agrees with a smile before finally starting their breakfast for real.

The human psyche naturally rebels against the idea of its end. Likewise, civilizations have throughout history marched blindly toward disaster, because humans are wired to believe that tomorrow will be much like today—it is unnatural for us to think that this way of life, this present moment, this order of things is not stable and permanent. Across the world today, our actions testify to our belief that we can go on like this forever, burning oil, poisoning the sea, killing off other species, pumping carbon into the air, ignoring the ominous silence of our coal mine canaries in favor of the unending robotic tweets of our new digital imaginarium. Yet the reality of global climate change is going to keep intruding on our fantasies of perpetual growth, permanent innovation and endless energy, just as the reality of mortality shocks our casual faith in permanence.
—  Roy Scranton, ‘Learning How to Die in the Anthropocene’