well be a quiet man

anonymous asked:

Fluffy baekhyun cuddles??

There is a light tickle against your cheek at five in the morning and the stubble is accompanied by a quiet –well not so quite– chuckle and a tousled man who smells of leftover cologne from the night before and has dry saliva at the corners of his mouth. 

“Wake up!” Baekhyun commands, kissing your cheek three times in a row in the same spot until you groan, your head buried in the crook of his neck as you breathe in the scent of his skin.

“It’s too early,” you whine. “Go back to sleep, crazy kiddo.”

You feel him shake his head against your chest. The sun is creeping under the curtains annoyingly ~almost, as annoying as Kyungsoo thinks Chanyeol to be in the mornings, and you ponder if the man has ever spend AM hours in the company of Mr Byun. He’s always loud, energetic, bright and joyful, and even if he’s had a week filled by schedules, he always manages to rise and shine within the sun. 


“Maybe because he is the sun”, you muse.

Either way, you’re too tired, eyelids heavy and body restless (Baekhyun to blame), so you attempt your escape from your boyfriend burrowing yourself farther underneath the covers. But he isn’t having it, he wants you and that’s the end of it. He wraps a strong arm around your shoulders and covers your neck with soft, playful kisses you imagine taste of sunlight.

“Nope,” he mocks, faintly brushing his lips against your forehead in such a gentle way you’re not even sure if it happened in the first place. “Was going to until I realized,” —he presses the tip of his nose against yours in an eskimo kiss — “…there was someone very pretty next to me.”

“Don’t even try, Byun Baekhyun,” you warn, or would have, if his tricks wouldn’t be working so damn well that you have to tug the blankets away from his hand to hoist them a little farther up your face so he won’t be aware of the heat that’s flooding across your cheeks, rushing towards your entire face.

The demon dares to laugh, his lips pressed right against your ear, and he kisses below it and behind it and even the spaces on your cheekbones he hadn’t gotten to quit just yet. He giggles, “Go brush your teeth so I can kiss you properly.”

“Go to hell.”

3

*** Well are you dead? Let’s hope not 😂😂🍻***

Part 1   Part 2    Part 3

“I honestly don’t know what to tell you Alex. Really. I mean, the kid covered all her bases. Doesn’t use credit cards, shut her phone off and must’ve put another one in some other name, she hasn’t bought a house or anything. Her name isn’t down for any leases or rent for any apartments. I can’t track her man. I’m sorry.” Tig sighed deeply and rubbed the bridge of his nose in between his fingers, feeling a headache come on. The man on the other end sighed as well and was quiet for a couple seconds. “Listen man, let me see what I can do. I’ve got a friend over in New York, he’s the best with stuff like this. I’ll talk to him. It’s gonna cost you though." 

Tig immediately perked up, nodding quickly. "That’s ok. That’s fine, I’ll pay whatever. We just really need to find her. Just get me a price and I’ll get the cash.” “Alright man, I’ll get you a number and call you later. Good luck.” Tig hung up and set his burner down, taking a deep breath. He knew it might’ve been foolish but he felt this little bit of hope swell up inside him. He’d been making calls with people for 9 days now, to no avail. You’d covered your tracks perfectly and none of the people he had contacted had been able to track you down. His last resort was Bill, an old friend from the Marines that he had. He didn’t know what the guy did now but he knew he was good at finding people that wanted to stay hidden and he’d known that he was his last hope. After a long and grueling 4 days, Bill had given the news that he’d had no such luck and couldn’t find anything. Now this friend of a friend of his was the clubs last hope for finding you and bringing you home. 

It was going on 5 months now that you’d been gone but it hadn’t gotten any easier. Gemma still wasn’t herself and neither was Jax. She was quiet, more reserved and drank everyday. Jax was becoming more heartless by the day. He showed no mercy and barely ever smiled. Clay was closed off and barely ever spoke to anyone. The club was broken in your absence and from what he’d from his brothers in Tacoma, Happy wasn’t doing any better. Drinking whenever he wasn’t doing anything for the club and buried in croweaters. Donut had let it slip that he was worried about him and thought he wasn’t going doing too well. He didn’t laugh or joke around. Didn’t crack jokes. The minimal smiles he used to have had disappeared entirely and he was just the shell of the man he used to be. 

Tig had called him a couple of times to catch up but Hap had been very standoffish and cold, hanging up immediately whenever Tig would mention you or bring you up. He wanted to forget you, forget the feelings that he had for you. The trust and faith he had in you. He wanted to forget you ever existed but that was proving to be easier said than done. 

He still missed you as much as the day you left. It hadn’t gotten any easier and he still hadn’t moved on. He’d made a step once in finally getting with a croweater that reminded him of you. She has the same hair color, same length, same texture, same skin tone. She was a little taller but it was barely noticeable. He’d stayed away from her as much as possible, hating the way seeing her brought back all the memories of you. Finally, in a drunken stupor, he’d made the decision to finally sleep with her. He brought her back to his dorm and removed her clothing more gently than he did with the others. He took them off the way he used to take yours off. He laid her back the way he used to do with you. In his head, he tried to pretend she was you, to soothe the ache in his heart of not having you anymore. 

He’d been slower, gentler than usual, taking the care to make sure she felt pleasure as well. He even kissed her, but it wasn’t the same. Her lips didn’t fit his the way yours did. When he bit her lip, she didn’t giggle the way you did. She didn’t moan and gasp the way you did. She didn’t cling to him and grip his biceps the way you did. She didn’t run her hand over his head and kiss his shoulder the way you did. She didn’t do anything the way you did, because she wasn’t you. She wasn’t you and she never would be and for the first time in Happy’s life as a Son, he kicked her out before he could even get off. He didn’t care anymore, he just wanted her out of his sight. He yelled at her and roughly shoved her out of the room, running off to the bathroom to scrub himself raw in the shower the way he always did. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“So he’s got a guy that he thinks can do it?” Tig nodded at Chibs and his eyes widened a bit, elated to hear the news. He knew not to get too excited because the chances of this working were slim but it was impossible for him not be feel hopeful when there was the possibility of getting the SAMCRO princess back. It had been a painful 5 months without you but there were still a couple of people that had hope. Him, Gemma, Tig, Juice and Bobby still had hope but the others had fallen off. 

Jax hadn’t spoken about you in weeks and would leave whenever you were brought up, unable to stomach the guilt of sitting back and not going after you that day. Piney and Opie never mentioned you either, the wound still too fresh. Clay never said your name, unless it was to soothe Gemma. To be honest though, he wasn’t too sure you were even alive. It had been too long. No traces of you in 5 months of some of the best trackers the club knew. All the charters were on the lookout and any allies the club had knew too. He wanted to see his little girl again but the truth was that things weren’t looking too good. Too many enemies, too many dangers. He still hoped to see you again though and he’d caught himself a couple times praying to whoever could hear him to bring you back home safe. 

Tig never gave up though. He came close more times than he could count but he never lost hope. He made call after call, met person after person, did anything and everything he could to ensure that he’d bring you home. You were his goddaughter and he’d be damned if he just gave up on you. With the added support from Chibs though, he felt himself becoming more and more hopeful. 

“So this guy that Bill knows has access to records of legal name changes. He’s going to try and go through those and see if anything links up. He thinks maybe she changed her name and that’s why we can’t find anything. If we’re looking for a name she’s not using anymore then of course nothing’s gonna come up. Also he’s checking any hospital records in case…” Tig stopped himself and swallowed around a dry throat, the thought putting him off. “Anyways, Bill thinks he’s the best guy for the job. Said its gonna be expensive but money don’t mean shit if we can get our girl back.” Chibs nodded firmly, chewing his bottom lip. “Aye Tiggy. Aye.” The men nodded to each other, a silent conversation taking place before Tig picked back up. “He’s in New York, so I don’t know if we’re gonna have to go over there or if we can stay separate and just do phone calls. Either way, Bill’s vouched for this guy, says this the best so-” “Guys?! Guys!" 

Tig and Chibs snapped their heads over towards the table where Juice was sitting with his laptop, eyes wide and staring at something on the screen. Jax looked over from his spot at the bar as well, alert at the sound of Juice’s loud voice booming through the clubhouse. "I think I found her!” The sound of chairs scraping against the floor be heard loudly as everyone shot up out of their seats. Jax, Tig, Chibs, and Bobby hurried over to Juice, looking at the screen where Juice was pointing. “I ran a scan to find her name anywhere that they would’ve had to take her information and it came up in this place so I hacked their system. Right there. That’s her. That’s her full name, her birthday. That’s gotta be her.” They all read the screen and looked over at Jax who nodded. “That’s her. Where is it?” “Texas. El Paso specifically.” “And where is the information from? Where did she go?” “Uh, that I don’t know. Let me check." 

He squinted at the screen, searching for anything specific. An address, a facility, a zip code, anything. Towards the end there was a website link and he copied in, pasting it into the address bar. After a couple of seconds, the page loaded and showed the home screen of the website, Jax reading it out loud. "Genesis Women’s Center, the preferred place for general Obstetrics in the El Paso area.” His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as did Juice’s but Tig, Chibs and Bobby’s eyes all widened as they looked at each other. “What? What is that? What does that mean?” Tig and Chibs both blew out a heavy breath and turned away from the laptop, their eyes closed and their hands coming to rest on top of their heads while Bobby looked at Jax. “It’s an OBGYN, specifically the OB part. She’s pregnant.”

Mr Norrell inquired with a frown where Mr Strange was going, for, as was well known in London, the elder magician - a quiet, dry little man - did not like to be without the younger for even so much as a day, or half a day. He did not even like to spare Mr Strange to speak to other people.
— 

The Ladies of Grace Adieu, Susanna Clarke

oh my god Gilbert

Give Me a Sign

Junkrat loved to talk.

Anyone who spent more than a moment with the excitable Australian knew this. He would mutter and giggle to himself if no one was interested in conversation or spend the better part of an hour discussing whatever he deemed important should anyone make eye contact. Some of the younger members, Lucio mostly, found this endearing. A real show of passion. Most just avoided looking in the Junker’s direction for too long for fear of catching his attention.

Roadhog was quiet.

Well, not really quiet. The man could often be heard laughing or grunting in response to something someone else said, but it was rare to get actual words out of him. When he started attempting to befriend Junkrat, Lucio had done everything he could think of to try getting words out of the big man. No such luck so far. He figured that was okay, though. He had his hands full keeping up with the quick pace that conversations with the skinnier man went through.

One moment they’d be chatting about the new chemical compound that made his bombs have smaller, but more potent explosions. The it would switch over to Lucio’s Sonic tech and how that could be used as propulsion for a new type of grenade launcher, something he’d been shot down on three times already. Junkrat was adamant about keeping his eyes on Lucio’s face when they spoke, judging his reactions as far as the smaller man could tell. There was never a dull moment and the DJ had come to enjoy their long talks. So, he couldn’t help his surprise the first time he saw Junkrat speechless.

It hadn’t been a long mission. Get in. Set a few charges. Get out. He had been sent to accompany the Junkers mainly due to his speed and their comfort with him. Mercy had already complained once that it was difficult to heal people who didn’t want to be near her and Lucio didn’t want to put either group through that if he could help it. Once they arrived, Roadhog’s silent request, a heavy hand on the healer’s shoulder, kept him back while Junkrat ran up ahead to start laying down his charges. The echo of his giggles in the building carried across the still air. The sound was just distracting enough that Lucio didn’t notice the Talon agents touching down around them until Roadhog was shoving him behind his back.

What followed could hardly be called a firefight. Between the scrap gun and well-timed hook, the agents were outskilled and went down without much effort. Lucio tried to keep count, making sure each one of them was dealt with. 6…7 …and 8. He let out a heavy sigh as the last one went down to the hook. No matter what any of the others members tried to say about the large Junker, he was efficient and that deep laughter was a lot more soothing than the DJ thought it should be.

Then it stopped. Roadhog turned away from the mess of bodies on the ground and faced towards their target instead. The giggling had stopped, but nothing was taking it’s place. Lucio frowned. He’d never heard Junkrat completely silent, especially when there was a fight taking place just outside of where he was being encouraged to use his explosives. What if one of the agents had gotten past them? What if they’d touched down behind the building and gone directly inside. What if Junkrat wasn’t paying attention? The large Junker seemed to have the same thought as they both set forward, wanting to put eyes on the reason for the sudden quiet. Down the plain and sterile hallways, the sound of his skates and Roadhog’s breathing remained the only noise. Wires lining the walls were easy enough to follow, finally leading them to the main room they’d come to deal with.

It was an armory of sorts, dealing mainly in melee and close combat weaponry, whose owners were striking a deal with Talon. Getting access to such a large supply would’ve made them an even more dangerous foe, which was why Junkrat was currently on his knees in front of the door wiring up one of his largest bombs. Or, he was supposed to be anyway. Instead, his hands were in his hair, fingers clenching and unclenching as he stared at the bundle of wires. Another agent lay dead on the floor, most of the face missing almost as if they’d had a grenade shoved down their throat. Lucio decided not to dwell on that thought.

Roadhog was already at his boss’s side, kneeling down so he was closer to eye level. His large hand touched Junkrat’s shoulder, gripping it tightly in preparation for the sudden startled jump the other made. From where he stood, Lucio could see that his eyes were wide and red with lines of soot missing from where he’d been… . crying? Concern overtook him and he slowly slid forward, trying to keep the sound of his skates to a minimum. He didn’t know what was wrong, but he wanted to help. Hog started to shake his head at the movement, only to be stopped by Junkrat’s flesh hand on the side of his mask. The mechanical one was moving erratically, making various motions Lucio didn’t recognize, but the two of them obviously did.

The sound of Roadhog’s sigh was unmistakable. He looked up towards the idling medic again before reaching behind his head to undo the clasp on his mask. Unsure how to react, Lucio looked away. He’d never seen the large Junker’s face before and whatever reason he was removing it now had to do with Junkrat, not him. Still…a few minutes of silence passed and he couldn’t help his curiosity. Neither man even acknowledged him as he turned around.

Still kneeling on the floor, Rat was moving his hands quickly, teeth worrying his bottom lip as he did so. Hog was watching his motions carefully as his own hands moved, mouth forming words without sound. Lucio wasn’t the best at reading lips, but he could make out a few choice bits. ‘Yellow wire’, ‘don’t worry’, ‘stop’. Hog’s brow furrowed at the last word, hand moving to rest on the smaller Junker’s cheek. There was a moment of direct eye contact, a level of communication Lucio knew he couldn’t begin to understand, then Junkrat was back in the bundle of wires. His hands moved just as quickly as they had before, pulling pieces and cutting what needed to be cut. Within a minute he was on his feet and grinning at the small man behind him as if nothing had happened.

Lucio started to look at Hog for an explanation, but the large man already had his mask back on and was pushing past him to leave the room. Rat’s arm sheepishly linked with the healer’s, tugging on him so they could start back towards the designated retrieval point. He was still being unusually quiet, but it was more calm and controlled now. Lucio quietly asked if they could talk about this later and received a hesitant nod. He didn’t want to push. He just wanted to understand.

It was almost a week before they had a chance to talk. Between the debriefing taking forever and the amount of work Lucio was dealing with around the base, he couldn’t find a good span of time to just sit down with the Junkers, which is what he needed. This wasn’t something he wanted to try squeezing into an hour or two. Thankfully, Mercy was selected to go out on the newest mission with mostly senior members of the organization, so Lucio had an entire night without any responsibilities. Perfect.

Despite spending hours in the Junkers’ room before, he was nervous as he raised a hand and knocked. He felt like there was tension between them now, something he wanted to alleviate as soon as possible. They were his friends. Their trust meant a lot and right now he wasn’t sure he had that. As Junkrat answered the door, eyes brightening at the sight of him and excited words spilling out without a filter, the worry started to ebb. He was getting all worked up over nothing. They still liked him, still trusted him. Or, at least one of them did.

When he was pulled into their room, the first thing Lucio noticed was Roadhog reclining in their bed without his mask on. It was in his hand, but Junkrat had called back who was at the door and it seemed he didn’t feel the need to put it back on. After all, the healer had already seen his face one time. A shy hand was raised in greeting and Hog nodded at it before going back to his book. At least that was normal. Lucio allowed himself a soft sigh of relief and turned his attention back to Junkrat. The taller man was flopped down in the room’s torn up sofa, something they’d saved from being thrown out months ago, and was patting the spot next to him. As soon as Lucio sat down, Junkrat wasted no time in starting his explanation.

Shut down. That’s what they called it. If he got too stressed out, his mouth forgot how to make words properly. He knew what he wanted to say, he just couldn’t make himself say it. Not out loud anyway. So, he talked with his hands. Lucio mentally berated himself for not recognizing signing when he saw it. The skill wasn’t something he could see either of the Junkers needing, so it hadn’t even occurred to him that Junkrat’s hand gestures had any actual meaning. When he voiced this in an attempt to apologize, the blonde laughed and wrapped his partially metal arm around Lucio’s shoulders.

Oh. Everything seemed to click together now. The focus on his face whenever the two of them were talking. His frequent fluctuations between whispering and shouting. The constant critique of ‘needs more bass’ for all of his new songs. Junkrat telling him that he couldn’t hear out of one ear and the other was mostly muffled just completed the puzzle. The DJ felt like a fool. He’d gotten so close to them, considered himself their friend, and yet he hadn’t managed to figure that out by now?

No. That was the wrong way to see this. Instead, he turned to Junkrat and smiled as sincerely as he could. He’d been trusted with this information, something that he was quickly told was sort of kind of a secret. Not like he was hiding it, but he didn’t want the other’s pity. Lucio could understand that and swore to keep it between them. He heard Roadhog give an approving grunt as he let his book drop onto the nightstand, grabbing Rat’s attention. A moment of those silent words between them, something spoken with only their eyes and the man beside Lucio was pressing his skinny frame up against him. A sleepover. Junkrat wanted him to sleep in their room. In their bed. While the DJ quickly mulled it over, Rat hopped off the sofa and got to work removing his arm and leg, something Lucio knew he only did to sleep.

The bed did look pretty comfortable. He felt closer to the two Junkers than ever and, well, he could think of worse places to sleep then curled up with Junkrat and Roadhog. A barrage of new giggles hit the air as Lucio stood up and crossed the room, taking a seat next to their source. He didn’t even have to accept the proposal. His fingers just started working on the attachment point for his own prosthetics and Rat was already asking if he cared what they slept in. He didn’t. He did, however, expect to be sleeping on the edge of the bed. So it caught him off guard when a large arm reached across the mattress and wrapped around his waist, pulling him into the middle. The skinnier man quickly settled on his other side, arms wrapping around him just below Roadhog’s and face nuzzling against his hair.

If this was what it meant to be trusted by the Junkers, Lucio knew he’d made the right choice.

A friend of mine asked me to post the first part of their story for them, anonymously. So here it is! (P.S. I am not doing this for everyone.)


Evan

“Fireball!” Everyone shouted and gulped their shots. This is the part of my night where I question why I’m with a rejected photographer.

There are girls everywhere: in the pool, on the roof and in the bedrooms. What more can a man ask for? Well, some goddamn peace and quiet would be nice. I have never been a man of parties- I’m an introvert and I want to keep it that way. That was until this walking stick for a model came into my life. News flash Jamie: taking pictures of yourself half naked for Instagram then applying a filter isn’t being a photographer. She has lipstick for a brain, but I couldn’t care less. The sex is great.

Keep reading

Tonight as well, it's lively again
  • Tonight as well, it's lively again
Play

Zuikaku: Sendai, shut up!

Shigure: It’s time for night battles… It has become noisy.

Amagi: It’s quiet at night… Well, looks like it’s not…

Yuubari: Ah, man, that 5500-ton level is noisy.

Shoukaku: There are some noisy light cruisers.

Ooi: Tsk, That one light cruiser is making such a noise A―GAIN… 

Akitsushima: Oh, somehow it’s noisy from the direction of the torpedo squadron even though it’s nighttime, maybe.

Kinu: Honestly, that Sendai is just so noisy!

Asagumo: Huh…its completely nighttime now. The naval base is…not very quiet though.

Takanami: That Light Cruiser sister… Eh? Maybe I should just… leave her be…?

Katori: Aah… That girl is being noisy again, today!

Naganami: Someone’s getting restless… Oh, it’s Sendai. Looks like she’s just doing her thing.

before yoi vs. after yoi
  • (before)
  • someone: why are you always so quiet? tell me smth. anything
  • me: *wondering why THEY won't just start the conversation*
  • me: well, idk, man...
  • (after)
  • someone: hey, why are you always so quiet–
  • me: so figure skating. there are 6 main jumps. they are: toe-loop, salchow, loop – or Rittberger, i guess, if we were in Russia, bc interestingly enough russian commentators never really call it loop–
  • someone: nvm

please actively speak out against “being diagnosed in childhood is an advantage/a sign of privilege/etc!” type views if you’re able to. and just generally consider traumatised autistic people :)

i find it hard to engage in the autism community so i don’t know how common this is, but i’ve seen it on my dash now and again

as a kid my autism diagnosis was used heavily by my parents to abuse me. i know all autistic people face ableism, but it’s slightly different when your identity as autistic is entangled in ptsd-like hurt.

from my (albeit very irregular, n I know no community is a monolith) engagement w/ the autistic community, i find it’s easy to get scared off in it.

so yea. please speak out against “childhood/teenage/etc diagnosis is an advantage” views if you’re able to. things like that directly hurt abuse survivors whose identity as autistic was used in their abuse.

it’s also a reason i need person-first language to describe myself. i understand why “autistic” is better for a tonne of people, but posts implying i’m ableist for needing person-first language for myself makes me flinch. by all means continue advocating yr right to be called autistic and rallying against NTs who insist on person first langage without asking you, but please don’t throw people like me under the bus in the process

a wider range of positivity is also good (from my dash, aggressive celebratory positivity is done well, but also gentle quiet “man, it’s been a journey” type positivity is something i can engage with more). but like, that’s unfair to ask of anyone

just yeah. please consider traumatised autistic ppl in the community :)

Ever seen the movie The Quiet Man? Well, here’s an idea for a hollstein AU based off of it.

–Carmilla Karnstein, a former boxer who quit the sport after tragically killing someone in the ring

–Born in Austria but raised in America, Carmilla decides to return to the village of her birth to reclaim the land that is her family’s after the death of a relative. It’s a chance to start over after what happened

–She gets there and meets Laura Hollis, one of the villagers, and they fall in love. 

–Only one problem: Mr. Hollis does not approve of some outsider swooping in and stealing her daughter away. 

–The rest of the townspeople (who are totally rooting for hollstein at this point) pressure Mr. Hollis into agreeing to the marriage

–But Mr. Hollis refuses to pay Laura’s dowry. 

–Carmilla doesn’t care, she and Laura marry, she tells Laura that she doesn’t care

–Laura is FURIOUS

–Carmilla doesn’t get it. She’s not familiar with the local customs. It’s not that Laura cares about the money and furniture–it’s the principle of the thing. A dowry represents Laura’s independence. Papa Hollis keeping it is basically saying he still owns her. 

–Laura wants Carmilla to confront Papa Hollis, but after what happened while boxing, Carmilla is super afraid of letting her anger get the best of her and accidentally hurting anyone. Papa Hollis just thinks she’s a coward

–Their marriage is super tense for a few days and Laura finall decides she’s going to leave. Carmilla is like ‘THAT’S IT’ 

–Catches Laura, dragging her back to town, with all of the townspeople following because they know shit about to go down

–Stuff happens, but more importantly, as soon as they get the dowry Laura and Carmilla throw it in a furnace, because it was never about the money. 

–And that’s The Quiet Man AU

Compilation of Qualities in Changmin’s Ideal Type Over the Years

1. Pretty

2. Adorable and bright

3. Intelligent

4. Focuses hard on whatever she works on

5. Dresses to suit her body rather than trends

6. Diligent about exercise

7. Good at cooking or learns to cook from him

8. Mannered and doesn’t use vulgarities

9. Over 165 cm

10. Good at English

11. Good at singing

12. Good at musicals

13. Likes jogging early in the morning 

14. Has her own job and interests

15. Returns his calls

16. Well spoken

17. Looks good in a man’s white shirt

18. Quiet and strong mind

19. Understanding

20. Flirts in a cute way

21. Mature and thoughtful 

22. A little clumsy so he can protect her

23. Suits various hairstyles

24. Shows skin in the summer

25. Humble

26. Reliable

27. Composed 

28. Not too skinny, has curves

29. Unique sense of humor

30. Wakes him up with food 

31. Feminine

32. Girls with natural aegyo rather than forcing it

33. Kind

34. Pretty arm-line

35. Doesn’t rely on a man

36. Girl who approaches him first because he is shy

37. Understands his work and lifestyle

38. Enjoys wine

39. Pure

40. Shares his interests

41. Introverted and gentle

42. Attractive legs

43. Lets him read her diary as a gift

44. Enjoys nature on dates

45. Active and always busy

It had been quiet until a very well dressed man, a wealthy merchant perhaps, had come around shouting for Arno to show himself, which the Assassin did, if only to shut him up. The man was in fact the very same that had challenged the younger man to a duel for turning his wife into a freedom fighter when Arno had done no such thing. The event was supposed to take place months ago, but Arno hadn’t shown up, finding it to be a waste of time, but the man was now screaming that he was coward. The shouting he could ignore, even with his bad mood, but the slap to the face the merchant gave to challenge Arno further? Not so much.

As the man continued to shout ‘Duel me, coward!’ Arno looked relatively unfazed, a flat expression crossed his features, but piercing eyes betrayed the calm façade. In the blink of an eye Arno reeled back and punched the man in the face, effectively knocking him unconscious and breaking his nose. Standing over him the Assassin simply replied. “I win.”

This morning my Uber driver and I got into a political discussion after seeing a Ted Cruz bumper sticker. As with all elections talk, the conversation quickly turned to Trump. My driver, an immigrant, told me about how his daughter was watching a Trump speech and began to panic, asking if he was really going to kick out all the immigrants and if she would be separated from her dad. He assured her he wasn’t going anywhere and then went to the garage to collect himself so she wouldn’t see him cry. He was tearing up again recounting it to me. Trump is such a joke that I never think of the reality he presents to others. A very scary reality.

Days before, my driver had given a ride to a well-to-do middle-aged man who was quiet the whole ride and upon leaving told him to “go back to [his] fucking home.” He caught it on dash cam, but didn’t want to put it online and draw any attention to himself or this guy’s ignorance. I imagine this asshole is a Trump supporter given his views on immigration, despite the fact that the driver is here completely legally.

🙏🏻 that our generation goes out and breaks some voting records since we now outnumber the baby boomers. Let’s silence this xenophobic rhetoric before it gains any more traction.

  • Gajeel: So Natsu, I hope this secret one time technique of you isn't gonna be an asspull like you gaining a 2nd element or using Dragon Force spontaneously.
  • Natsu: Wha... no, no, of course not. It's gonna be something totally logical and foreshadowed since like chapter 20.
  • Gray: Like you have the right to criticize him after you got a 2nd element too.
  • Gajeel: Well excuse me mister "I inexplicably got my slayer powers from my dad". I'll have you know that after Natsu got his 2nd element me getting one became totally possible.
  • Gray: Well if Cana got a power tattoo from a fake grave then I can can certainly get one from my old man.
  • Cana: Well...
  • Erza: Quiet!
  • Everyone: Yes ma'am!