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seavoice · 3 years

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Horse Trading

(link to ao3 on title, or continue reading after the read more)

“Octavian was an asshole,” Reyna said, a contemplative look on her face as she laid on the floor of Hazel’s Praetor Villa, “but sometimes I think, can you really blame him?”

“Yes,” Hazel said, from her position on the floor next to her, where she was trying to sketch Reyna, a task made inordinately difficult by the older girl’s constant moving around. “I really can.”

Reyna sighed. It was a long and contemplative sigh. It wasn’t unusual to see Reyna with a brooding, thinking look on her face, but the relaxed and content expression added a new dimension to it. It was something structural; it somehow made her look younger yet more self-assured at the same time. “Octavian,” Reyna repeated, “was an asshole. But this Villa, Hazel. This Villa. I can see why Octavian was so desperate for praetorship. This house almost makes up for the stress of leading a child army.”

“It does not,” Hazel said. “It really does not, Reyna. Distance has just made your heart grow fonder. And delusional.” She sighed as Reyna shifted her position yet again. Reyna winced as a wordless apology. “Also,” Hazel said, reaching for her eraser, “Octavian didn’t want the praetorship for the house. He wanted it because he was a power hungry and blood thirsty politician.”

“At least you agree the bed is worth it?”

The bed was very nice, Hazel had to admit. Californian King, which seemed excessive, but was appreciated, and the fluffiest pillows Hazel had ever laid her head on. “Maybe. But I’m not agreeing with you when you literally opted for laying on the floor instead of the bed.”

“Fair enough,” Reyna said. She stretched on the floor, some complicated starburst. Hazel decided to give up her endeavour at drawing Reyna and flipped to the previous page in her sketchbook where she had been working on a drawing of Arion. It was half completed, and it was an attempt at drawing purely from memory, but Hazel enjoyed the challenge. “But it’s good for your back, believe me.”

“You’re an immortal Huntress now. Does that really matter?”

“Also fair enough,” Reyna agreed. Reyna rolled over to prop herself up on her elbows and peeked at Hazel’s sketchbook. She raised a single eyebrow. “Oh, that’s certainly more...horse-y than I usually look.”

“I gave up. You move too much.”

Reyna inclined her head in acceptance. Still on her belly, she folded her arms and laid her head down on them.

It was weird to see Reyna so carefree. Weird in an undoubtedly good way, but weird nonetheless. Immortality had, perhaps ironically, taken years off her shoulders.

Hazel hadn’t invited Reyna to New Rome to draw her, but inevitably, that was what the visit had come to. She had written to her asking for advice — advice on running an entire city, advice on leading a quote unquote “child army” in times of peace, advice on not going crazy with stress — and Reyna had accepted so readily that a ventus spirit had brought her letter the very day Hazel had sent hers. Hazel had prepared for the visit with a single minded focus; she had brought a notebook for note taking, three different colours of pens, a highlighter, and her firmest handshake.

But then they had skipped the firm handshake and instead had hugged, tight, and Reyna had snagged a bowl of jelly beans from the Praetor office, and for the next few hours they had done nothing but lay on the floor of Hazel’s newly acquired Praetor Villa, swapping stories after stories, lazing around and sketching. Reyna had told her about the Hunt’s newest undertaking, some mythological boar or the other, and also about Thalia’s new obsession with 80’s rock. Hazel had told her about Lavinia’s latest shenanigans, and Gwen’s new job as a much valued mental health counsellor for the Legion. No notetaking had taken place. No praetor advice had been shared.

“It’s very good,” Reyna said, gesturing to Hazel’s drawing of Arion. “The likeness is stunning.”

Hazel beamed. “Really?”

“Of course!” Reyna scrambled to sit up. “It’s uncanny. This is really, really good, Hazel. It’s like…” Reyna made a hand gesture like she was pulling something; Hazel recognised it as an unconscious tick that Reyna had, one usually employed in Town Hall meetings when she was struggling to find the correct words to use for convincing reluctant denizens. “It’s like make a career out of it good,” she finished.

It was a warming compliment. Hazel’s smile grew wider; this was a pride unlike any other, something simple and easy and painless. Hazel had convinced herself to take pride in the smaller things more often. It made a dreary life just a little bit happier and easier when she could take pride in mastering her mist magic, in baking a sweet cupcake to perfection, in a good sparring session, in making a friend smile. But this pride in her artwork was somehow—brighter. It was something she’d dedicated long hours to.

“Horse artist?” Hazel said. “You think there’s a market out there for that?”

“Are you kidding me? Pet artist! Lucrative as they come.” Reyna laughed, an easy, lovely sound, and this too was unusual, this too was good, this too warmed Hazel. “People go crazy when they get pets. Put them in all cute little kinds of outfits and hire professional photographers, artists...I’m serious, Hazel. Business idea.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Hazel said, with a laugh of her own. Then she sighed and set down her pencil. “I appreciate the business advice, though honestly, what I need more is Praetor advice. I feel I’m going insane.”

“You’re doing wonderfully,” Reyna said. “You don’t need my advice, Hazel. You’re a force of nature.”

This was a sweet sentiment, and Reyna probably meant it, but it didn’t help Hazel’s case. “Thanks,” she said. “Like—genuinely. But I do feel...I do feel like I’m going insane. It’s—it’s a lot.”

Reyna’s eyebrows furrowed. She looked older at once, older in all senses of the word. Like the Reyna of before the Hunt, and the break from her duties—Reyna in charge, Praetor Reyna, sixteen year old Reyna with the world on her shoulders. She sat up straighter. “Is someone giving you trouble?” Reyna asked. “I was joking about Octavian earlier, but gods, if someone’s coming up to take his spot as Asshole of the Year—“

“No,” Hazel said quickly. “It’s nothing like that. That’s nothing. I could deal with someone like that no problem. It’s just—like you said...child army.”

Reyna exhaled softly and closed her eyes. “Yeah.”

Hazel hated bringing the mood down, hated evaporating Reyna’s good cheer, but she set that uncomfortableness aside for the time being. She pulled up her legs to her chest and rested her chin on her knees. And there was solidarity in this too, acknowledgment. “Yeah,” she agreed. “Everything’s—okay, now, for the time being. Doesn’t mean it’s going to stay that way forever.”

“That’s not really ever in your control,” Reyna said with a rueful smile. “But I do...I do get what you mean. I understand.”

“I thought you would,” Hazel said. “That’s why I wrote to you.” She’d thought of going to Frank with these thoughts too, and she was sure he’d give good advice, and be kind about it, but a part of her—a stubborn part, maybe, a conscious part, sure, but a valid part, nonetheless—hadn’t wanted to show a weakness to her co-Praetor, even one as familiar as Frank.

“I don’t know if I can give you any great advice,” Reyna said at last. “I don’t know if I can tell you anything you don’t already know, and you are doing a great job.”

Hazel tried to keep the sadness out of her smile. “Hm.”

“What I needed?” Reyna said. “What I needed when I was a praetor was...gods, just a ear. Just someone to bear it with me. Someone to understand. Jas—he was gone, and it was just me. For the longest time. But then with Frank, it wasn’t as hard again, because we could...we could switch off. We could share. That’s the only thing I can really tell you, Hazel. Only advice I can give you. Share. Share it with me, always. With Frank. Lavinia. Nico. Your friends. Don’t make the mistake of thinking you’re alone. You don’t have to be.”

“I know,” Hazel said. She’d been alone for so long in Asphodel she had thought she could survive loneliness, if she had to. But she didn’t have to. And she didn’t want to. “And you sold yourself short Reyna—you do give great advice.”

“Sounds like I didn’t say anything you didn’t already know.”

“But I think I needed to hear that from you,” Hazel said. “From someone else. You said it yourself—I just needed to know someone else understood. Otherwise it gets...it gets lonely.”

Reyna’s smile was soft. “You’ve got good instincts, Hazel. You’ll be just fine.”

Gods, she hoped. “Thanks for coming out here on such short notice. You probably were busy with the hunt.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Reyna said, and there was that strange new lightness to her again, a relaxed happiness. “Haven’t you heard? I’ve got time now.”

Hazel picked her pencil back up. “You know, if you try sitting still, maybe I can still do a quick sketch. Before you leave.”

“Actually,” Reyna said, and was Hazel imagining things or did she actually look self-conscious? “I have a sketch request, if you’d accept.”

Hazel was intrigued. “Oh. Oh. Sure. Who?”

Reyna smiled a little sheepishly. “Don’t laugh okay? I miss him. Scipio.”

Pet artist...Hazel let out a small giggle. “Oh, so when you said people go crazy when they get pets, you meant—“

“I told you not to laugh!” But Reyna was laughing herself. It wasn’t sad, but it was sort of wistful. “I never dressed him up or whatever, but he’s been on my mind lately; I’ve been wondering when he’ll reform. Pegasi reform slow, apparently. I thought I’d never see him again in this life, but now that I’m a Hunter—holy Pluto, I can. And you drew Arion so well—“

“I think it’s sweet,” Hazel said. It was, exceedingly so. Hazel was trying to recall Skippy in her memories, and she felt a pang of sadness as she remembered him soaring above them during the War Games. It had been a long time since she had seen him, but she thought she remembered enough to manage a sketch for Reyna. “It might not be a perfect likeness—“

“I’ve got a photo.”

Now, Hazel absolutely couldn’t control herself. She smiled wide, a fond laugh bubbling in her chest. “Oh, Reyna—“

“Will it, or will it not make it easier to draw him?” Reyna asked, tips of her ears a faint pink.

“It’ll be perfect,” Hazel promised. “Where have you got it? In the Praetor office?”

Reyna reached into her pocket and brought out a worn out photograph. As much as it was hilarious, it was also heart-warmingly sweet, a touch melancholy. Hazel sympathised with her—she couldn’t imagine losing Arion. She probably would start carrying a picture of him everywhere too; it wasn’t a bad idea.

“Sure,” Hazel said, studying the picture. “I can do a drawing for you no problem. You can carry it everywhere along with the picture. A horse drawing in exchange for solid advice. My first political quid pro quo as Praetor.”

“That’s a terrible deal, Hazel. I can literally commission you, if you want.”

“I’ll settle for a refill of my jelly beans,” Hazel said, gesturing at the now empty bowl of jelly beans. They’d made fast work of it. It hadn’t survived the first hour.

Reyna sighed and stretched out on the floor. “Oh, I forgot,” she said glumly. “One more piece of advice, Praetor to Praetor.”

Hazel looked up. “Yeah?”

“Stock up on those beans,” Reyna said mournfully. “And never let anyone break into your stash. You’ll need them.”

#hazel levesque #reyna avila ramirez arellano #reyna ramirez arellano #pjo #heroes of olympus #voop fic #eh this is kind of choppy but i do really love these two and think they should be friends #also not relevant to this story at all but frank and hazel are very much NOT a couple here. just co praetors and good friends #goodnight I’m going to bed

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oliveiraveiro · 4 years

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find an escape

part 2 of 3 of The Weekend

Open Heart, Rafael x F!MC

series summary: Casey and Rafael try to face their respective feelings and be honest about them to each other. With Sora in the picture, what can happen in short three days? What will happen after?

chapter summary: Casey and Rafael are definitely not dating.

tags/warning: pining, eventual happy ending, fluff, rafael x sora, emotional cheating

word count: 2043 / ao3 link / part 1 / part 3

Saturday night.

“She’s right, you know. Our situation isn’t exactly the prettiest.” Casey glances at Rafael.

They were now seated at a bench outside the hospital, Casey toughing out the cold air because the alternative is taking Rafael’s jacket.

Having his scent that intimately close to her when his girlfriend is already mad at them, she knew that was the last thing they needed. But even at a distance she smells his cologne and aftershave, and it was so familiar that too many memories flood her mind all at once.

“We’re friends. What’s not pretty about that?” Rafael interrupts her thoughts about needing to be strong to not give in and end up embracing him.

“Exes shouldn’t be friends, Rafael.” Casey sighs. “At the end of relationships people should be resenting each other. If not…” she trails off, looking away, embarrassed.

“If not…?” Rafael urges after a moment, only looking at her more intently.

“If not, then they haven’t moved on. Or…doesn’t want to.” She continues, only looking ahead, letting out another breath.

A beat passes, both of them silent. “You- you really think that?” Rafael asks after another moment and he bites on his bottom lip.

“I do, Raf. Because…I haven’t moved on from you. And I don’t want to because I want to keep you in my life.” She finally meets his gaze, smiling a little, but evidently serious. “What’s your excuse?”

“Like I said before, Casey, I still care about you--”

“I know, Raf. But you can’t, not anymore. Even more now that your girlfriend is obviously unhappy about it.” She interrupts.

“Are you saying we shouldn’t be friends anymore?” he asks, frowning and already looking sad.

“I’m just saying… maybe that’s for the best. This whole ordeal tonight, Sora kissing you like that in front of everyone… she means no harm. She did it only because she doesn’t want to make you choose between her and a friend, and with jealousy and alcohol mixed together… Well, it’s probably the only way that made sense to make sure I remember you’re hers.”

“You don’t have to defend her, Casey. It was inappropriate, and I… I’m sorry that she was disrespectful. I- we weren’t… doing anything wrong.”

“Weren’t we?” she looks over at him again. “Because my heart still skips a beat whenever you smile at me. Maybe that’s too obvious than I thought.”

Indeed, there are a plenty of times Rafael catches Casey blushing at something he says. But does that mean anything? Because he knows his eyes light up whenever he sees her beautiful smile or she says something funny, and he smiles too wide his cheeks hurt whenever she talks so passionately about something. Or…basically about anything, really. Do those mean anything?

Slowly, it dawns on him, and he starts to feel a sense of impending danger in his stomach. He used to think confronting Casey is the thing he is scared of the most, but confronting his feelings about Casey? Running into a burning building is easier than this.

“Listen… Sora’s been waiting for you for a while now. And I should get back inside soon.” Casey finally gets up, wrapping her arms around herself. “I still care about you too, Raf, but that includes me not being in the way of your relationship. We don’t-” her voice breaks. “We don’t have to avoid each other, but I don’t think we should be too comfortable spending time together either. It’s… for the best.”

I’d say you’re convincing me and not yourself, but I know better. Rafael takes a long shaky breath, standing up after her. “You’re saying…”

“I’m letting you go.” There is no mistaking Casey’s shining eyes. She does her best to blink back the tears, to no avail.

Rafael quickly moves to pull her into a tight hug, and Casey only tears up more at his warm embrace. She hugs him back as tightly, making the moment last. His scent, the feel of his body against her, the way he absentmindedly rubs her shoulder with his thumb: it all intoxicated her. If only she can stay in his arms like this forever.

“It’s my turn to talk. I’m not letting you, Casey. You’re right about a lot of things, and I have just as plenty to apologize and make up for, but this is not where we’ll end. Not when we broke up a few months ago, and not tonight.” He finally says after a long minute.

She starts to pull away, shaking her head. “Please don’t make this harder--”

“Trust me, Casey.” Rafael meets her eyes with pure determination that she does not dare insist otherwise. They can talk again, someday. Soon, hopefully. Tonight is already a real breakthrough, she doesn’t need to push it more.

“Okay, Raf. I trust you.” Casey need not to lie, and she smiles as Rafael smiles at her, her heart doing the familiar skipping.

He leans in close, pressing a soft, tender kiss to her forehead. Casey can only smile more and close her eyes, letting herself forget everything for a moment and focus on Rafael’s soft lips and his somehow warm hands holding her face. She takes more than a moment in his arms again, but it still feels too short as she starts to pull away.

She puts up a brave face. “Go get your girl.”

He takes her hand, affectionately kissing her knuckles. I will, Rafael thinks only to himself.

Sunday morning.

Casey is usually high-spirited during Sundays. At this day of the week she already had fun, and she will only spend the day to get more rest and relaxation. It is the perfect day to get her mind back to work so she is ready to face new cases and patients.

This particular Sunday, however, all her thoughts as she drank her coffee are about Rafael. This somehow feels worse than their breakup, because there is no staying friends anymore. No more spending time with him, no more stealing glances at his beautiful face, no more giggling to herself at something he says that is not even that funny.

Halfway through her drink Casey hears the doorbell. She peeks at the living room, but her roommates are not there anymore. She could swear she already saw Jackie and Aurora reading on the couch. She gets up from the dining chair, heading to the door.

She expected to see Bryce behind it. It might also be Phoebe, or Danny, or maybe even Farley. But it was someone she did not expect at all: the subject of her woes, none other than Rafael.

“Raf? What are you doing here?” Casey asks, noting the bouquet of flowers he was holding.

“Getting my girl.” Rafael gives her a smile. “Uh- trying, at least. I know we still have plenty to talk about.”

Casey can only let out a soft laugh with all the thoughts she was just having. She knows it can only mean that he and Sora broke up, and while he is very welcome right now she also knows nothing about this will be easy. But she’ll be damned if she lets him go one more time.

“Come in, Raf.”

Sunday evening.

Dinner.

They both agreed that they were going to take things slow. So this is not a date, just a simple dinner, Casey reminds herself despite their holding hands.

She is looking down at her hand intertwined with Rafael’s, while he is not letting his eyes leave her face. At the moment he is just staring at her forehead, but he does not want to stop looking at her beauty, as if she will disappear if he does.

“It’s a little funny, isn’t it? You took me here on our first date but we’re also here on our first not-date.” Casey finally meets Rafael’s eyes again, and the excitement in them as their gazes meet is now hard to miss now that she is not just stealing a glance. She almost giggles at how attentive he is being, cheeks flushing yet again at his intense stare.

“Hold on… wasn’t our first date in a helicopter?” Rafael asks after a few seconds of being lost in Casey’s eyes.

“Well…no. Not the official one. You were on the job, and I was too, technically.” Casey reasons.

“Not the official--” He trails off and gapes in dramatic disbelief. “You think I bring just any doctor with me for a helicopter ride around town?”

Casey laughs softly. “That’s- okay, that’s a good point. I really appreciated knowing about your uncle and your love for the community in that quote-unquote date. But…I’ve always thought that our first dinner is much more special. You really went out of your way to cheer me up.”

“From the moment we met I’ve had this voice in my head telling me I had to do what I could to make you happy. I’m glad I listened and continued to.” Rafael smiles. “Until- well, you know.” He sighs softly, frowning a little.

“Hey,” she gives his hand a squeeze. “Sora was your first love; I understand that now. And it’s normal for everyone to have baggage from their exes, you know? What is weird, actually, is if you didn’t.” She grins, trying to keep it light, but his face still expressed guilt.

“It’s no excuse. Look at us now, I’ve only hurt you both.” He frowns deeper, but also takes her other hand in his. “I promise you, Casey, I’ll do everything to make it up to you. I know we still have to figure a lot of things out, but--” he swallows, taking a few moments to himself, gathering courage. “I love you, Casey. I know and I’m sorry it’s a little too late to realize that, but I do. I assure you I’ll do better by you.”

Casey can feel her chest tightening. This got very intense very quickly, and her feelings are getting the best of her. Just how often did she fantasize this exact moment? She worried for a second that maybe this is one of the many scenarios her brain came up with, but the warmth of Rafael’s hands around hers is all too real. His scent, his cologne, his shampoo. He’s here.

She cannot speak a word, nor think a thought; her mind overwhelmed because the man she thought she would never get to hold like this again is right in front of her, telling her that he loves her too. Not wasting any more time, she grabs his face and kisses him.

When Rafael broke up with Casey, she was not able to give him a final kiss. She barely remembers the last time they shared a passionate kiss, but she is absolutely certain right now that this kiss puts all their other kisses to shame. Yes, this second first kiss is even better and more exciting than the one they shared in a free fall from a thousand feet up in the air.

Their feelings poured into the kiss are obviously pained but there is also excitement and it is completely full of love. In short, perfectly intense. It feels…right, and Rafael is sure he will never again doubt staying by Casey’s side.

He pulls away, also holding her face with a hand, grinning as he caressed her cheek with his thumb. He has never felt this way about anyone in his life ever, even with Sora then and now. His mind keeps on repeating how absolutely sure he is about Casey.

Not knowing what his too-happy smile meant, Casey makes a small face. “I’m sorry, I know we said this wasn’t a date--”

Their mouths meet again in a kiss, this time Rafael initiates, and it is her turn to grin as they pulled away. “Okay, I’m still not sure if that means this was totally a date, but for the record, I love you, too.”

He smiles despite his heart skipping a beat. God, how crazy is he about her? It was almost embarrassing, but she loves him back. Despite everything, she loves him, and he loves her. That is the only thing that matters.

“I love you, Casey.” he repeats.

“And I love you, Rafael. So much.”

#sorry this took forever #the epilogue probably will too sdksd #choices open heart #open heart #open heart fanfiction #rafael aveiro #rafael aveiro x mc #rafael x mc #playchoices #choices stories you play #choices

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dakotacrisis · 4 years

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Deal’s End (12)

One final wish.

(Read on AO3)

---

Months rolled by as Marinette moved on with her life without Felix. It took some getting used to waking up and not having him around. She had even avoided saying his name as much as she could. Everyone at school figured that he moved away but didn’t give it much thought beyond that. The only other people that seemed to note his absence outside of Marinette were Adrien, Alya, and her parents.

Alya was Marinette’s rock during the beginning when she was most broken up about it. A number of sleepovers that ended in cartons of ice cream and a box of used tissues.

And then there was Adrien. Marinette’s now official boyfriend. She insisted on taking things slow when they started. She was in no proper headspace to be a normal girlfriend and wanted to distance herself from the new relationship for some time before she was back to normal. Adrien didn’t question her and said that he didn’t want to rush her into anything she was uncomfortable with. So a lot of their quote unquote dates were casual lunches and hand holding in the park.

After the first month Marinette was as normal as she thought she was gonna get. Her dates with Adrien branching out to more traditionally romantic and a few kisses exchanged. The first time they kissed there was a small fluttering in her stomach but not much beyond that. It wasn’t the spark that Marinette had heard Alya talk about when she had her first kiss with Nino.

Summer had come and gone and autumn had officially began. The trees burning in colors of orange and yellow and red. It was chill enough to break out the fluffy sweaters and warm drinks but not enough that it was uncomfortable to be out. It was a picture perfect backdrop to a romantic season.

After school one day Adrien invited Marinette over to his house for a study date. There wasn’t a lot to work on but she was happy to spend some time with him outside of school. When it came to go Adrien walked her out to the front door.

“Do you need to get home anytime soon?” Adrien asked after they stepped out of the house.

“No. Why? What’s up?” She asked.

Adrien came up to her, his wide green eyes tenderly watching her. “Marinette, I wanted to talk to you about something that may not be the easiest thing to talk about. But I care about you and if one of us isn’t happy then it should be addressed. Don’t you think so?”

“What are you getting at?”

He held her hands, “Do you love me?”

“What kind of a question is that? Of course I love you. You’re my boyfriend.” She tried to laugh it off.

“I believe that you love me as much as say you love Alya.” He continued, “You love me as a friend. But not more than that.”

“What makes you think that?” Marinette backed up an inch.

“Marinette, I do love you.” Adrien held her hands tighter, “You’re an amazing person and I am so happy spending time with you. But we both know that whatever this is between us isn’t working and it is because we’re trying to force romance into what is meant to be a friendship.”

“Are you breaking up with me?” Her voice broke a touch.

“Are you happy with me?” Adrien asked, “When you look into the future is it me you’re seeing? Cause I don’t think it is.”

“I am happy with you. I love hanging out with you and if I were to look into the future I would hope that you were there with me.”

“I may be there and you may be happy with me but are you happy with me as a romantic partner?”

“Adrien…”

“We both know who it is you really want.” He stared down at their interlaced hands, “I thought that maybe I could be what you wanted. But with how sad you were when he moved away and how distant you’ve been since we started dating I couldn’t keep going on. Not when I knew that whatever this is between us was only hurting you more.”

Marinette started to break down completely. There was no use pretending now. “I never meant to hurt you or use you.” She whispered, “I thought you were what I wanted. What I needed. But in the end I was using you. You were the kind and handsome placeholder for all the emotions and love I wanted to give to someone. Then he showed up and little by little everything changed. I told myself that it was just a phase. A passing fancy. That I was your girlfriend and my feelings for him would drift away as a pleasant memory. I squashed them down and left them to wither and die in my gut. But they just wouldn’t.” Marinette sat down on the steps. “I led you on because being with you was better than being alone.”

Adrien sat down next to her. He held her close and rubbed her back gingerly. “It’s alright, Marinette. I’m not upset if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“How can you not be? I--I--”

“You’re hurting and if being your boyfriend helped you not to hurt then I’m okay. But you are still hurting. All I want is for you to be happy. You’re my friend and I love you and I want to help you however I can. But I think what is best for the both of us is if we stop pretending and go back to what works best for us.”

“You still want to be my friend?”

“Do I still want to be friends with the kindest, smartest, funniest, most talented, and bravest girl I have ever met? I think I’m gonna have to say, duh!” he said. Marinette laughed a bit.

“I love you. I really do.” Marinette leaned her head on his shoulder, “As my friend.”

“I love you too, friend.” They sat on the steps watching cars and people go by. Their relationship as a couple officially at an end. What had she done to deserve someone as great as Adrien in her life?

Upon returning home she collapsed onto her chaise and let herself have a good cry. She had put herself through all this pain and for what? Breaking up with Adrien wouldn’t bring Felix back. She had given up years of her life for a relationship she ended up not really wanting. Now all she had to show for it was a heart more broken than before.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out the note Felix had left. The last thing he had ever given her. She held it close, a stray tear hitting the paper. “I wish you were here.” she whispered.

All of the sudden she felt a hand on her back. She turned around and saw her mom kneeling next to her. “Oh sweetie, what’s wrong?”

“Mom.” Marinette hugged her tightly. “It hurts so much.”

“What does? What happened?” She asked.

“Adrien and I broke up.” Marinette muttered.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Her mom held her closer, “I’m so sorry. It’s gonna be okay.”

Her sobs grew louder and her dad came up to check on her as well. Both her parents held her in their arms as she let out all the pain she had been bottling in for months. They thought it was all for Adrien and she was fine to let them believe that. The reality hurt much worse.

Marinette went to bed early that night. She was too exhausted to see the note on her desk until she woke up in the morning. Picking it up her heart leapt into her throat. It was the paper from her sketchbook. The one with Felix’s sigil on it. She hadn’t seen this since she signed it.

Quickly turning it over she saw the contract was there with large black letters that read: VOID, stamped across it. One hundred percent satisfaction or your years of life back guarantee. Just as soon as she read it the paper caught fire and burned up in her hands leaving nothing but a puff of smoke in its wake.

Her five years had been returned. She called it a small victory.

Getting ready for school was a chore. But she felt lighter somehow. Like a weight had been taken off her shoulders and she could finally move forward. Walking into class she said hi to her friends. They were all sympathetic about her break up with Adrien but she assured them it was fine. Maybe under different circumstances they could have made it work but she was happy to have him in her life as just a friend.

In all honesty not being a couple helped a lot since they could just hang out without any expectations. She’d tag along to some of his photoshoots and make funny faces at him to break his concentration. He’d come over to play video games at her house after school. They’d study together and cracked jokes and made dumb puns. It was nice.

There was still that aching feeling in her chest when she thought of Felix. She missed him and often times found herself doodling his sigil in the margins of her notes. And she would be lying if she said she wasn’t tempted to try and summon him again. In the end she talked herself out of it. It was too big of a risk.

One day Adrien was over at her house studying what with exams on the way they could use all the study time they could get.

“UGH!” Marinette snapped her textbook closed. “I can’t focus.”

“Video game break?” Adrien suggested.

“No. I think I just need some fresh air and some snacks. You wanna come?”

“You go on. I’m still copying down the notes I missed.” Adrien gestured to the notebook Marinette had lent him.

“Alright, I won’t be long.” Marinette headed downstairs and stepped outside. The cold wind snapped her senses back into focus. She took a few minutes to breathe and people watch before she went back in and grabbed a couple snacks before heading back up to her room.

“I have macarons and juice.” Marinette announced. A small shiver went down her spine upon entering the room. “Adrien? What are you doing buddy?”

Adrien was half off the chaise and his eyes were wide. He looked like he had just seen a ghost. “Oh uh hi there.” He waved at her.

“Hey yourself.” she tossed him a juice bottle. “Why are you so squirrely?”

“There was a um...a spider. It’s gone now.”

“Freaking spiders.” Marinette sighed, “Remind me I need to vacuum up the cobwebs in here this weekend.”

“Will do.” Adrien was kinda restless the rest of the afternoon they were working and Marinette decided to call it off early. He wasn’t focused and her brain was going to melt if she kept trying to cram information in it.

“We still on for group study in the library tomorrow?” she asked before he left, “Alya and Max are bringing flashcards.”

“Yeah. Sounds good. See you then.” Adrien said before turning around to his car muttering to himself.

“Weirdo.” Marinette chuckled as she went back inside and got ready for bed.

The next day at school Marinette shuffled inside and placed her things in her locker. She had trouble falling asleep last night and was still sleepy when her alarm went off in the morning. What she would have given for another hour of blessed sleep.

Upon walking into the classroom she received a jolt that woke her up instantly. A figure in black jeans and a red hoodie was sitting in her seat with their feet propped up on her desk and their hood up. She rubbed her eyes but the figure remained.

She felt her feet moving beneath her without any sort of command from her brain as she neared her desk. “You’re in my seat.” Her voice was quiet.

They looked up, pushing the hood back off their head, revealing grey eyes that sparkled like silver and mussed blonde hair. “Surprised to see me?”

“Yes I am.” She took in a shaky breath. “Felix...what…”

“Come here, love,” he stood up and took her out of the classroom. They passed Adrien in the doorway who gave them a knowing smile.

Felix dragged her down to the now empty library. They stood apart from each other as Marinette tried to settle all the emotions in her head. Felix was here. Why was he here? How was he here? Was it because her wish had been voided?

“Marinette,” Felix spoke first, “I--”

She rushed him in a hug. His arms closed around her molding her to him. She was shaking and crying but god help her if she could stop. “There, there, love,” Felix whispered as he tried to soothe her, “Cry it out. It’s alright.”

“I’m okay.” Marinette broke out of the embrace abruptly. “Sorry. I got overwhelmed.”

“Don’t apologize.” He smoothed out her hair. “I can imagine that this is a bit of a shock.”

“A bit of a shock?” Marinette stepped further away from him. “A bit of a shock!”

“Oh boy here we go.” Felix braced himself, “I’m ready let’s have it.”

“I haven’t seen you in months!” Marinette shrieked, her whole body filling with anger and sadness, “I was left alone on a dance floor trying not to cry my eyes out the last time I saw you. I entered into a relationship I ended up not even wanting because pretending to be in love was better than being alone. All I had left was this note in my fridge to remember you by cause all the pictures you were in mysteriously vanished. I was finally starting to accept that you were a strange and heartbreaking moment in my life and was moving on from it.”

She rushed up to him jabbing a finger into his chest. “Now you’re here and I don’t know what to think or what to feel. I’m angry and upset and happy and confused and worried and hopeful and about a billion other things. So yes, seeing you in my seat like nothing has happened was ‘a bit of a shock!’”

She turned away taking several deep breaths to calm herself. This was too much to deal with this early.

“Marinette,” Felix touched her shoulder but just as quickly withdrew it when he saw her glare, “What do you want me to say? You want me to apologize for leaving? You want me to say that I should have stayed and damn the consequences? Cause we both know it wouldn’t have helped. It would have just made everything worse.”

“Then why are you back?” Marinette rounded on him, “Why are you back? Is it because my contract was void? Do we have to strike a new deal or something? I am not in the mood for games, Felix. I don’t want any roundabout answers or riddles. I just want a straightforward answer.”

“It has nothing to do with your contract. We don’t need to make any new deal. Your years of life were returned. That was the end of it.” Felix explained calmly.

“So what is it then?”

“I was summoned.”

“Not by me.”

“No, love, not by you.” Felix reached into his notebook and took out a piece of paper before handing it to her.

“My chemistry notes?” She scanned over the paper. “How did you get this?”

“Because of this.” He pointed to a doodle in the margin. A smear of dried blood on it. “Funny what a little paper cut can do.”

“But if it wasn’t me then…” the realization started to dawn on her. “I gave Adrien my notes to copy. I went downstairs for snacks and…”

“When you came back up he was acting weird?” Felix nodded with a crooked smile. “Yes.”

“He…” Marinette’s hands flew to her mouth. “Adrien! Oh god, what did he wish for? What was the price? I swear if you took his soul--”

“Hey, hey, calm down.” Felix eased her, “He’s fine. No soul reaping here. I promise. I understand your worry but there is nothing to be worried about. Everything is fine.”

“Has he made a deal with you yet?”

“Yes.”

“No!” Marinette was pacing again, “Oh god this is so bad!”

“Marinette, love, will you get ahold of yourself for five minutes and let me explain?” Felix grasped her by the shoulders to stop her movement. “Can you give me that? Can you give me five minutes?”

Marinette nodded. “Okay,” he let her go, “Let me start from the beginning when Adrien first summoned me.”

“A good a place as any to start.” Marinette took a seat at one of the tables. “I’m listening.”

“When I first showed up in your room I was panicked because I thought you had gotten incredibly stupid and conjured me again. When I looked around though the only one there was Adrien. He was startled and confused as to why I was there and how I had appeared. I knew you would be back any second so I quickly explained that I had never been a transfer student and was actually a demon that you had accidentally summoned that one day you got hit in the face with a dodgeball. I begged him not to let you know I was there and that I would explain everything once we were away from your house.”

“Why didn’t you reveal yourself to me when you were in my room? If anything I think I could have helped explain to Adrien what you are.”

“Given your reaction to seeing me just now I am gonna say that you would have not been any help at all. If you knew I was there it would have been extra gas on the fire and that was not going to be good for anyone.”

“That’s fair.” Marinette relented. “Go on.”

“So after we left and went back to Adrien’s house I explained the situation more and I had to tell him about our deal and how he had factored into it. He was good about it. I swear that he is one of the most understanding people I have ever met. He really does take everything in stride. He didn’t even get mad when I told him it was I that cut the air conditioning in your house that one day.”

“Felix, you’re drifting.” She said.

“Sorry. Back to it.” Felix cleared his throat, “After we got all of that out of the way I told him that since he summoned me, accident or not, we had to make a deal or else I could never leave. So we made a deal.”

“And this is where my worries come in.” Marinette said, “I fought you for a week before striking a deal. You’re alone with Adrien for one night and he’s quite literally made a deal with the devil. So just tell me what it was he did wish for.”

He reached out a hand and gently stroked her cheek. “He wished for the brute to be a gentleman,” His voice broke a touch, “or in my case, human.”

Marinette shot to her feet so fast the chair clattered to the ground behind her. Human? Her throat felt dry. “He can wish for that?”

“Apparently so.” Felix chuckled.

“But why?”

“Because he loves you. And he’d do anything to make you happy.”

“And he thought that was you?” Marinette joked.

Felix scoffed, pretending to be wounded. “Was he mistaken, love?”

“How much did that cost if not his soul?”

“Turning a demon into a human is seen as a punishment where I was from. My bosses were already pissed at me for how much time I spent up here, complaining about me going soft. They were going to punish me somehow but in their eyes Adrien did that for them. So they may have let the price slide just this once.”

“How is being human a punishment?”

“Loss of immortality and you are now under the sway of god again which you had fallen from before. It’s basically seen as a betrayal to your fallen peers.”

“I have so many more questions about the logistics of this. I mean, do you have a soul now? What happens when you die? What is your DNA? Do you even have a place to live?”

“In order: yes, I don’t know, I don’t know, and no. That being said, can I stay your house for a couple weeks? I have literally nowhere to go and no money.”

“I’ll talk to my parents. Maybe you can take the photographer’s advice and become a model. He said he knew an agency.”

“A model? I can see it. I may be mortal but I am still hot as hell and devilishly handsome.” Felix laughed. The sound filled Marinette with warmth.

“On second thought I don’t think you need your ego fed anymore.”

“Too late, I’m already imaging.” He started making ridiculous poses.

“Okay cool it, Jojo.” Marinette rolled her eyes. She approached him, resting a hand on his chest. “Are you really human?”

“Yes.”

“Are you here to stay?”

“Yes.”

“Do you…do you…” The question was stuck in her throat.

“I do.” Felix cradled her face in his hands. “It isn’t much and I’ve a lot to learn still but that’s half the fun of love isn’t it?”

“Yes.” She was crying now. Felix gently wiped away her tears and waited patiently for her to calm down.

“So, are you happy?” He asked.

“I am. I thought I’d lost you forever.” She hiccuped.

“You think you could drive me off that easily?” He pressed his forehead to hers, “You couldn’t shake me when I was a demon and now that you’re my girlfriend you’re never getting rid of me.”

“Girlfriend? Jumping ahead of ourselves don’t you think?” She laughed, “Shouldn’t you take me on a date first?”

“Was extinguishing every light in Paris so we could watch the shooting stars not a good enough first date for you? Cause I hate to tell you but I’m not gonna be able to top that now without any powers.”

“How about dinner?” Marinette suggested, “Then dessert at Andre’s.”

“Sounds perfect.” he leaned in closer. “But first I am going to drag us back into the far stacks of the library to make out because that is all I have been thinking about since that night we watched the stars.”

Marinette stood on her toes and pressed her mouth against his. Her hands balled in the fabric of his hoodie. His hands wove into her hair pulling her closer still. Butterflies, fireworks, bouncy balls, everything was going off inside her as he kissed her deeply. This was what it was supposed to feel like.

He wasn’t letting her go any time soon either. One kiss followed another more desperate and hungry and loving than the last until they were both out of breath. “I love you,” She whispered against his lips. “I love you, Felix.”

“I love you too, Marinette.” he kissed her again. “I do have one little condition though?”

“And what would that be? More eclairs?” She giggled punctuating her words with small darting kisses.

“Well yes, obviously, but more than that I want to make one last deal. An official end to my demon dealing ways.” He looked at her with so much love and adoration it threatened to strangle her. “I’ll trade you the rest of my life for the rest of yours. Sound fair, my love?”

Marinette laced her hand with his, “It’s a deal.”

THE END

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(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11)

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(tagged)

@sannsibarr @miss-mysterys-blog @maribug-adrienoir @mermaidreject @corabeth11 @goblinwhoships @symwinter @dreaming-being @yourgeekysister

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #felix #felinette #demon au #writing

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writeouswriter · 4 years

Note

How would you write a love triangle?

I’ve been shirking answering my asks for months, I still have some in my inbox from July (which I deeply apologize for, I am working on them, I swear), but I wanted to answer this one because it got me thinking, how would I?

I personally don’t enjoy love triangles, and one of the only ones I’ve read that was done marginally well wasn’t a major part of the plot, it just sort of happened. Her relationship built gradually with each guy, but there was never that pressure that she had to choose between them, no painful back and forth, no torment, no “I love character A! But ooh character B! Maybe in another life!” She wasn’t looking for romance, she wasn’t thinking about having to make that choice, but one day she had that moment of realization that she already did. Sure it crossed her mind once or twice over the course of the series what it might be like to have more of a relationship with either, but it was just a passing thought, you know? And in the end, there was no major heartbreak, just a simple let down and mutual understanding. The audience of course knows this was a love triangle from the start, picking teams, rooting for one or the other, but the thing is, the main character didn’t. To us, it’s a choice. To them, it just is. (Also in this setup, usually Protagonist isn’t thinking about romance until it hits them in the face that this slow burn was building up this whole time, Character A is usually openly thinking about romance, and character B (the one they end up with) has been secretly thinking about romance, but not always.) I’m kind of a fan of this if it’s done right. Always slow burn though! Insta-love, and it’s more evil, more powerful twin, insta-love triangle will kill me instantly on the spot if I have to read it one more time.

What I find often goes wrong with this trope, and this may sound ridiculous, is that the author is trying to write a love triangle. Often the two “love interests” are polar opposites. (Golden Boy who has done no wrong VS. Bad Boy who may’ve committed murder or multiple crimes is the common go to on that front). The choice between the two of them is constantly, and I do mean constantly, on the protagonist’s mind and they’re painfully aware of that choice with each passing page. Or worse, the protagonist has already started a romantic relationship with one of them and has been all lovey-dovey half the book when they start catching feelings for the other and are all like noooo I can’t break Character A’s heart, I love them! But hubba hubba Character B, (which is just a painfully obvious setup for heartbreak for the person they’re currently with) and it’s just tiring because for one thing? The reader is almost NEVER torn. Chances are they have a type (secretly nice bastard for the win over here!) and they’ve made their choice pretty early on, so while the protagonist is getting all cozy with character A, or doing their whole dramatic go between, the reader is rolling their eyes and going “ugh” until they eventually end up with character B. It’s mainly a frustrating concept to me.

But anyway, the question was how would I write a love triangle? The answer? I usually wouldn’t. But for the few times I was drawn to include one in my WIP, here is how it goes:

1. I don’t start off writing a love triangle, I never go into a story with the intention of writing one. I have my main character, I have my secondary main character, but then if a third they happen to have chemistry with just happens to appear, I let it run its course. I don’t really think about it, I just write, and pretty much want to see how it turns out just as much as the audience.

2. My two quote unquote “love interests” are not on opposite sides of the spectrum personality wise, they share traits, they share flaws, and they can both play into a certain “type” so the choice is not as plain and simple to the reader as bad boy, golden boy. (Because you know 90% of the time, it’s going to be bad boy)

3. The two quote unquote “love interests” are never touted as such. The audience knows protagonist will eventually choose one or the other because that’s just the formula here, but the protagonist does not know that. The protagonist is not thinking of either of them in any kind of romantic way except maybe in passing, you know like “he’s cute,”or “hey, that’s a sweet gesture”, their focus being on the main plot, (unless your main plot is the romance), but slowly through little things with both of them (maybe one more than the other), small interactions, defining moments, big events/conflict they go through during the course of the plot, no romance yet! Just a huh what if kind of vibe with the two, like a slow burn, bam, she’ll wake up one day and realize maybe there’s something more there, and she’ll look at both of them, maybe be a little internally torn for a moment, but there will be that one defining moment, you just know it, when she realizes she’s fallen for one of them and she can’t change that, maybe it’ll culminate with a sudden kiss or a simple look or something else, maybe the other character is a little sore, but it’s not a choice she has to make, not consciously anyway, it’s just something that happened, and she didn’t even realize it was happening until now. And the audience still has that built up tension of who will she choose? There’s still the suspense. But for the protagonist it’s just a natural progression.

And I don’t start by building a romance, I start by building basic relationships. If any of that makes sense I don’t know, but there is my answer. Also, everyone go read Kelley Armstrong’s City of the Lost, I am in love with Eric Dalton, but no one knows who that is, I want to gush. FYI, Kelley Armstrong’s Darkest Powers Trilogy is the well done love triangle I’m referring to in the first part of my answer. Loved that so much, top 3 favourite series, first love triangle I could appreciate.

#writing #writeblr #love triangles #romance #asks #disclaimer: i have nothing against people who like the dramatic love triangles though!

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idiot-cheesehead-archenemy · 4 years

Text

Resistance

My truce gift for @kinglazrus! They asked for Electric Core AU and Clockwork Teaching/Training Danny, which seemed to go together pretty well so I used both. (They also asked for Danny in College but I have no idea what being in an American college is like so … he’s in high school.) Hope you enjoy!

CW for transphobic bullying

Summary:

Danny struggles to control his new electricity powers, among other things.

Word count: 9069

Also on AO3

Danny took a deep breath and raised his hand. Slowly, he reached forward, his entire body tense. He knew what was going to happen, but he tried nevertheless to hold on. Inch by inch his hand grew closer to the object in front of him. He wasn’t breathing now. Finally, he made contact, a single fingertip touching the cold metal. All at once he felt the rush of energy leaving his body, and he swore loudly.

“This isn’t working,” Danny said, turning back to Clockwork.

“You knew this would take time, Danny. Don’t give up yet.”

“I’m not giving up, I’m just being realistic. Whatever I’m doing, it’s not working. We’re just wasting …” Danny remembered where he was and shook his head. “Whatever, you know what I mean.”

“I know this is frustrating for you, but if you keep practicing, I’m sure you’ll -”

“Stop saying that!” For a second, Danny’s entire body was alive with energy. The brightness of the glow and the loudness of the buzzing, whining tone were unpleasant, but those sensations paled in comparison to the fire that raced through his veins and over his skin. As soon as he realized what was happening, Danny’s eyes widened, and he placed his hand on the metal pole beside him to discharge the energy. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, “I didn’t mean -”

“It’s alright.” Clockwork hadn’t reacted in the slightest, of course. It would take a lot to phase someone who could see the whole of time. Danny sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“It’s just that I don’t think the problem is that I’m not trying hard enough. I think I’m just trying to do the impossible by changing the way electricity behaves. I’m fighting against the laws of physics, here.” Clockwork raised an eyebrow but made no comment. Danny rolled his eyes. “Ok, yes, I know ghosts have a … looser relationship with physics in general, but, evidently, electrons still flow from negatively charged substances -” he gestured at himself “- to positively charged ones -” he gestured to the metal pole. “And I can’t change that. It’s not like my ecto-energy where I can control what it does.”

“No, the electricity isn’t like your ecto-energy,” Clockwork said, “it is your ecto-energy. It is one of the forms your energy can take.”

“But it’s not ecto-energy, right? It’s electricity. As in, moving electrons. I can’t control electrons.”

“No? Why not?”

“Because … I don’t know. I just can’t.”

“You have an electricity core, Danny. Controlling electrons is precisely what your core allows you to do.”

“If that’s true, then why doesn’t the electricity do what I want?”

“It does.” Clockwork saw that Danny was about to object and raised a hand. “Or, at least, it does what you expect it to do. It’s following instructions that you’ve subconsciously given it. You need to acknowledge that you have control so that you can consciously issue different commands.” Danny huffed.

“Listen, Clockwork, it’s not that I don’t believe you. You are, by all accounts, the expert here. But, I don’t know, maybe there’s something wrong with me. I’ve been trying, and I’m telling you that I can’t control this.”

“You already do.” Clockwork gestured toward Danny, who looked down at himself and saw that his hairs were standing on end. Of course they were, because he was getting upset again, which meant his body was building up a charge again. He wondered idly whether he took on a negative charge with negative emotions and a positive charge with positive emotions. Probably not, he decided. Somehow he suspected that it was always negative.

“Ok, so I can, what, summon electricity? Or turn my ecto-energy into electricity? I don’t know what this proves.”

Clockwork sighed. “No, I suppose you don’t. I think we can call it for today. Please think about what I’ve said. Once you accept that you are in control, everything will be so much easier. But you have to truly believe it.”

“You sound like a fortune cookie. Are you still talking about my powers or is this just general life advice?” Danny was being sarcastic, but Clockwork just smiled warmly and said,

“Perhaps it’s both.”

***

Danny wasn’t listening to the teacher. He had been earlier, he was pretty sure. She’d been talking about Ulysses S. Grant, but then he’d tried to remember where he’d heard the name Ulysses before. He thought it was someone in Greek mythology, but, no, that was Odysseus. Was Ulysses short for Odysseus? Did ancient Greek people even have nicknames? Then he’d realized that he wasn’t paying attention so he tried to pay attention again, but now he was just thinking about how he hadn’t been paying attention and he’d probably missed something important and this kept happening and he wasn’t sure why because he’d been getting more sleep lately because the local ghost activity was way down and he didn’t feel like he needed to be out patrolling every night and he kind of wondered whether Clockwork had anything to do with that but he didn’t dare say anything because if Clockwork was somehow responsible then he was definitely breaking some rules and it was probably best to keep quiet about it just in case and if he wasn’t responsible then he would probably be offended by the implication so it was best not to say anything regardless and Danny still wasn’t paying attention so he tried to focus on what the teacher was saying but for some reason the words just slid past him and it almost seemed like the harder he tried to focus the less it worked because he was just thinking about whether or not he was paying attention and noticing that he wasn’t and then thinking about how important it was that he pay attention because he knew he wasn’t going to go over this again outside of class and even if he did it would be more difficult to learn from a book than from the teacher so this was the best time to learn the material which he could only do if he stopped tuning out and thinking about other things which really shouldn’t be that hard.

Science was easier. They all went to a computer lab and spent the period playing what could generously be called a game. It involved breaking apart molecules and building new ones to mimic what happened during chemical reactions. It wasn’t the most interesting stuff, but it didn’t demand too much mental exertion, and when he made a mistake he just got a message telling him to try again. Plus, the teacher couldn’t watch the whole class at once, which gave him the opportunity to check the local news for potential ghost activity. He didn’t expect any, and there wasn’t any, as far as he could tell, but it never hurt to be too aware. Well, it probably did, but he wasn’t worried about it, anyway. While Danny was looking at the news, another student got sent to the principal’s office for going to a website that should really have been blocked on the school internet. Danny went back to building molecules until the bell rang for lunch.

Danny bought some quote-meatloaf-unquote and a soda and went to his usual spot. Sam was already there, eating a vegetarian dish she’d brought from home with her own biodegradable cutlery. He smiled when he sat down and asked Sam how she was. Pretty good, apparently; she was getting a think piece published in an online paper about local environmental issues. Danny told Sam that he was happy for her, and so did Tucker when he joined them. Then Tucker turned to Danny and asked,

“How’s your training going? Can you shoot lightning bolts out of your eyes yet?” Danny’s smile dropped a bit. Sam tutted.

“Dude, could you lay on the pressure a little thicker? I think Danny is feeling too good about himself.” Tucker seemed to notice Danny’s expression, then, and he smiled sheepishly.

“Oh, uh, I meant, ‘how’s your training going? It’s totally ok if you haven’t gotten the hang of your electricity powers yet.’” Danny laughed weakly.

“Don’t worry about it, man. Yeah, no gains yet, but it’s …” Mentally and emotionally draining? “It’s just a slow process, I guess. Right now it seems like all I can do is build up a really strong static charge and then discharge it as soon as I’m grounded. If I could hold on to the energy and release it on-command that could be useful, so that’s kind of what I’m working on.” Sam was nodding.

“That’s definitely something, Danny. Even if you can only use it in close-combat, a strong enough jolt could knock a lot of people out in one shot.”

“Not that we know exactly how a ghost will respond to it,” Tucker added. “Ghosts might not be that susceptible to electricity, and even if they are, some ghosts are probably resistant, especially if they have an electric core, too, so …” Danny and Sam were both looking at him with slightly confused expressions. “What? I’m just saying, there’s no pressure. Whatever happens with your powers, we all need to make sure we stay sharp. Always have a backup plan and such.”

“Yeah,” Danny said, “that’s true.” You probably shouldn’t rely on me. “I probably shouldn’t put so much pressure on myself.” He started cutting up the ambiguous-meat-based loaf on his plate with a plastic fork. “It would be nice to shoot lightning bolts, though,” he said wistfully. There was a slightly awkward silence before Sam said,

“Did you guys hear they’re remaking The Bride of Death?” Danny and Tucker both groaned.

“Of all of Karlos Harstin’s classic horror movies,” Tucker said, “that’s the one that needs a remake? Really?” Danny shook his head.

“Why are they remaking all these sixties flicks, anyway? Who is asking for these?”

“I don’t know,” Sam said with a shrug. “I think they could do it well. Give the bride more agency, for one thing. I mean, the movie is named after her and what does she do in the original? Nothing; she’s a sexy lamp. I, for one, am looking forward to a more modern take.”

“But why not just make a modern movie?” Danny asked. “Why not have a new character and a new story and actually do something inventive?”

“Because they need to sell tickets.” Tucker nodded.

“It’s always about money.”

“Capitalism ruins everything,” Danny said with a scowl. Sam smirked.

“Are you just figuring that out now?”

Tucker started to ask, “So, who’s directing -” but then he apparently noticed something behind Danny’s head and frowned. Danny followed Tucker’s gaze and realized what he was looking at just as Tucker was saying, “Ugh, Dash alert.” Danny quickly turned around, hoping Dash hadn’t noticed him, but it was clear he and Kwan were already walking toward them.

“Don’t engage,” Sam whispered. Danny nodded slightly, focusing on his food as he heard two sets of footsteps approach and then stop right behind him.

“Aww, Kwan, look - it always warms my heart to see the losers huddling together for warmth in this cold uncaring world. It’s so sweet that you guys think that being friends with each other will make it any less likely that you’ll all die alone in a ditch.”

“Well, probably not Sam, because her family has a lot of money,” Kwan said.

“I guess that’s true. Is that why you guys hang out with this goth freak? Is she paying you to be her friends?” Danny saw Sam rolling her eyes, and he smiled. “I bet she pays you to do all sorts of things. Tell me, do you guys both fuck her at once or do you take turns?” The trio all kept their eyes down. “That embarrassing, huh? She must be into the really weird shit.”

Danny felt the weight of a hand on his shoulder, but he kept still. “Come on, Fenton, give us the deets.” After another few seconds of silence, Dash knocked on the top of Danny’s head. “Hey, we’re talking to you, Fentina.”

Danny tensed. Immediately, Tucker was saying,

“Whoa! Not cool, dude,” while Sam said,

“Uh, transphobic much?”

Danny was glad his friends were there to defend him, but in this exact moment he wished they had just stayed quiet. He really didn’t want to make a scene. He tried to subtly shake his head, but they were both focused on Dash.

“What did you just call me?” Dash’s voice was quiet, and it sounded like he was giving them a chance to back down. Danny shook his head more insistently. Sam opened her mouth to answer, but then looked at Danny, who was silently pleading with her to drop it. She huffed and then looked back at Dash.

“I said, just leave us alone, Dash. Go eat your lunch.” Danny held his breath during the silence that followed. Finally, Dash scoffed.

“Fine, but not because you told me to.” Danny rolled his eyes even as he let out a sigh of relief. Dash and Kwan both walked past the table. Kwan stopped for a second and let Dash get ahead before turning and quietly saying,

“Sorry, Danny.” Then he caught up with Dash as they made their way to the cool kid’s table. The trio all watched them go, and once they were out of earshot, Sam started angrily stabbing at her salad with her fork.

“Ugh, I wish I could just … ugh!” Her knuckles were white. “He shouldn’t be able to get away with saying whatever he wants.” Tucker was looking at Danny.

“You ok, man?” Danny took an unsteady breath instead of answering. Now that Dash wasn’t breathing down his neck, the cold fear that had filled him a few seconds ago was quickly being replaced with a hot anger that had his skin tingling and his hair standing on end. He was gripping his fork at least as tightly as Sam was gripping hers, which he realized when the thin plastic snapped in his fist. He reflexively turned his hand intangible before the sharp edges could cut him. Sam was looking at him, too, now, with a concerned expression that matched Tucker’s. With some effort, Danny smiled.

“Yeah, I’m good. I mean, who cares what Dash says? He’s Dash. Fuck that guy, right?” Danny idly picked up half of the broken fork and turned it over in his hands. “He’s gonna peak when he’s twenty-four and I’m gonna … go to space or something. Change the face of astrophysics. I don’t know. I’ll have a good half a century when I’m living my best life and he’s desperately trying to fill the void with food and sex. So he can have his fun now.”

Danny realized that Sam and Tucker were staring at his hands. He looked down and saw that the plastic fork was blackened and partially melted. He looked back at Sam and Tucker, who’s expressions were both now somewhere between concern and fear. Sam was the first to speak.

“I appreciate destructive post-modern art as much as the next girl, but maybe there’s a better time and place?”

“Yeah, dude,” Tucker added. “I get it, but what if someone saw?” He punctuated this by looking around to the other tables, none of whom were apparently interested in the trio.

“Right, yeah, I’m …” Danny felt like he should apologize, but he wasn’t sure what to apologize for. He sighed and picked up the other half of the broken fork before standing up. “I’m gonna get a new fork.” Sam and Tucker glanced at one another, but said nothing as Danny walked away.

***

Danny was staring out his bedroom window and trying not to think about anything when heard a quiet knock.

“Yeah?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Danny saw Jazz open the door and poke her head in. He was sitting in the middle of his bed with his arms wrapped around his knees. Jazz stepped slowly into the room.

“How are you doing, little brother?” Danny continued staring out his window for a moment before looking at her.

“Well, I’m afraid to touch my phone, my computer, or my playstation, so, uh. Bored.” She made a face that Danny recognized as a combination of disappointment and concern. Everybody seemed to be concerned lately. Danny didn’t like that, but he had to admit, even if only to himself, that they had good reasons.

“Have you tried reading a book? Maybe doing some homework?”

“I …” He had, in fact, but he couldn’t really focus on it. He kept getting up to do other things, or he would just stare at the page and not do anything. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to do it - he didn’t, but that wasn’t the issue. He just couldn’t get into the right frame of mind to sit down and work. Normally, he did his homework either late at night or in the morning before school, since he spent most of his time ghost hunting. As a result, he was usually too tired to get distracted. With the recent lack of ghost activity, he actually had time to do homework after school, but he couldn’t take advantage of the time because he apparently was incapable of doing any work during the day.

He wondered, not for the first time, whether Jazz’s psychology obsession might actually be able to help him. He certainly felt messed up enough. Not that he would ever tell her as much; it wouldn’t be fair to put that on her. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’ll get started on my homework.”

“That’s good. And don’t get too worried about your powers, ok? You dealt with all of your ghost powers coming in at once somehow, so I’m sure you can handle all this new electricity stuff.” Danny nodded and didn’t say that he was well aware of that and it made him feel like an idiot that he was struggling so much with something he would have been able to handle easily a year and a half ago. “Actually,” Jazz said, “about your powers …” Danny tilted his head to the side as Jazz averted her gaze. “Uhm, it’s not a big deal, but I found scorch marks around the outlet by the kitchen table. I’m guessing that was you?” It was Danny’s turn to look away sheepishly. He nodded.

He’d been planning to do homework in the kitchen, so he’d brought his computer and charger down. When he plugged the charger into the wall, it started sparking and burning. Thank goodness the other end hadn’t been plugged into his computer. With his hands carefully covered by a dish towel, Danny had removed the charger - now probably ruined - and quickly brought it and his computer back into his room. He hadn’t even thought about the damage to the wall.

“Ok, like I said, not a big deal, I get it, but, if it happens again, can you clean the scorch marks off? If mom and dad see that, they’ll want to know what happened, and, you know. There’s no easy explanation.” Danny nodded again.

“Yeah, sorry, will do.”

“Ok, thanks. The outlet still works, by the way, so we’re good there.” She stepped back into the hall. Before closing the door she added, “And good luck with your homework. Let me know if I can help.” Danny smiled.

“Yeah, thanks.” Jazz smiled back as she closed the door. Danny sighed and looked over at his desk where his math textbook was still sitting open.

***

“No, I haven’t made any progress,” Danny said as he crossed his arms. “I don’t even know what progress would look like. Apparently all I need to do to control my powers is believe harder, and that doesn’t seem like something I can practice. What do you want me to do? Believe six impossible things before breakfast?”

“It was merely a question.” Danny scoffed.

“A question you already knew the answer to, because you know everything.”

“Yes.” Danny rolled his eyes. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t …” Danny glared at the floor. “I mean, it’s a lot of things, I don’t know. I feel like you’re putting a lot on me, but also, like, these powers are ruining my life because I basically can’t touch things anymore. I keep melting things or setting them on fire when I’m not careful. So that’s kind of a lot. And I’m definitely freaking out my friends and Jazz but I have no idea what to do to make them think I’m ok because, you know, I’m really not, but it’s not something they can help with. And I’m stressed about school. And I still have to deal with any ghosts that try to start shit in Amity. And Dash all but misgendered me at lunch the other day and I really want to just kick his teeth in which I know is bad but it doesn’t even matter because I can’t because if I tried anything I’d probably end up electrocuting him.” Danny looked back up at Clockwork, who’s expression had softened.

“I’m sorry. Of course you’re going through a lot right now. You know I can’t interfere, but I do care, and I am here for you. If you want to talk …” Danny shook his head.

“I don’t really think talking helps.” Clockwork hesitated for a few moments, but at last he nodded.

“Very well. Let’s focus on getting control of your electricity powers, then. The last thing anyone wants is for you to hurt somebody.” Danny chuckled.

“Can’t have me turning evil, right? The Observants would probably dock your pay for that.” Clockwork smiled.

“I find your consistent misunderstanding of my relationship with the Observants endlessly entertaining.”

“That’s good, because I have no intention of learning.” Danny was very aware of the fact that Clockwork hadn’t dismissed his comment about turning evil. He tried not to read into that. Clockwork gestured forward.

“Shall we?”

They flew to the ‘training room’ Clockwork had put together two weeks ago when Danny had first asked him to help with his new electricity powers. It was basically just an empty stone room with a few objects strewn about as targets or obstacles, some conductive and some not. The arrangement of the room suggested that Clockwork had intended for Danny to stand in the centre of the room and try to hit the targets at range, but it had become clear very quickly that ranged attacks were well outside of his ability. Danny had spent pretty much the entirety of their first session just getting to a point where he could consistently produce a charge, and their second session simply trying to hold on to his charge while he was grounded. The latter hadn’t exactly been successful.

Clockwork stopped in the middle of the room and turned back to Danny. “I want to do something different today.” Danny was relieved to hear that, but he tried not to show it. “Before you can control how your electricity behaves, you need to feel that it is your electricity. You need to believe that it is something you do, rather than something that happens to you. To that end, I want you to try summoning electricity intentionally without relying on your emotions. You should be able to remain perfectly calm while creating a charge.”

Danny took a deep breath. That sounded good, if difficult. He’d more or less gotten the hang of working himself up until he could feel the electricity, but he’d suspected that wasn’t the best way to do this. He still wasn’t sure about this ‘believing he was in control’ business, but surely, if he could remain calm while using his powers, then he’d have an easier time controlling them. It made sense that his emotions would get in the way and keep him from focusing the way he needed to.

Of course, it was easy to say that, but he still had to figure out how to draw on his electricity powers. They didn’t feel the same as his regular ghost powers. The electricity, if Clockwork was right, ultimately came from his core, but it wasn’t as simple as drawing energy from his core as he usually did. There was an extra step that needed to happen to turn that core energy into electricity, a step which had only ever happened unconsciously before. He closed his eyes and tried to remember what it felt like when he got angry or frustrated and recreate that feeling without actually becoming angry or frustrated. It was about as impossible as he expected.

“It’s alright. Do what you need to do to summon the electricity, and, as you do, focus on what’s happening in your body.” Danny nodded and took another breath as he thought about Dash. It was an easy go-to to get himself angry. He remembered various taunts and insults that Dash had thrown his way in the past year. He had become less physical lately, probably because Danny had handed him his ass one too many times with the help of his ghost powers, but the words had only gotten worse since then. Danny felt the familiar buzzing, and he tried to focus on that.

He felt the prickling heat throughout his body, but he had no idea where it was coming from. The buzzing, tingling sensation seemed to mostly be on the surface of his skin, and especially in his hands. Did that mean it was coming from his hands? He took a few deep breaths to calm himself. The tingling disappeared first, while the heat remained. So, then, the electricity must come from deeper in his body. But as he relaxed, he found that the feeling simply faded away. When he started thinking about Dash again, the heat returned, but it didn’t seem to come from anywhere in particular. He opened his eyes and shook his head.

“I don’t know. It’s just … It all just happens at once. It definitely doesn’t feel like I’m doing anything.”

“And is that different from all of your other powers?” Danny considered. Certainly, some of his powers did happen reflexively on occasion, and they had done so much more when he first got them.

“I used to go intangible a lot without meaning to. I don’t think it was ever tied to my emotions, but it definitely wasn’t intentional.”

“And how did you learn to control that?”

“I’m not … really sure? It was kind of trial and error. Now I just do it, same as flying or, I don’t know, breathing. It’s like a muscle I can flex. But early on … I remember trying to - and don’t laugh - to just think intangible thoughts. Like, I would try to picture myself being intangible.” Clockwork didn’t laugh, but then, he so rarely did.

“And what happens when you picture yourself using your electricity powers?” Danny shrugged. “Why don’t we try that?” Danny dutifully closed his eyes and pictured himself summoning electricity, his body glowing and crackling with energy.

They spent an hour or two like that, alternating between Danny summoning electricity with his emotions and trying to do so with his mind. By the end of it, he was feeling as frustrated and disappointed as ever, but Clockwork reminded him that it had taken over a month of practice to get his other powers under control.

“Yeah,” Danny sighed, “I guess. But I feel like it should be easier now than it was then. I should be better at this because I’ve done it before.”

“Don’t put so much pressure on yourself. This is new, and there’s no reason for you to be especially good at it or to improve especially quickly.”

“But I could, right? If I just believed that I could?” Clockwork inclined his head slightly.

“More easily said than done, I gather. But yes.” Danny gritted his teeth as he smiled.

“Cool.”

“I think we can put this particular exercise on hold for now. Was there anything else you wanted to do or discuss?” Danny shook his head. “Are you certain? I know you don’t want to talk about everything, but if there’s anything I can do to support you, all you need do is ask.”

“I know, and that’s really cool of you, but …” But I don’t even know what to ask for. But I feel like you’d just be wasting your time on a lost cause. But I’m afraid of what would happen if I did ask for help. “But I’ll be okay.”

Clockwork was silent for a long time, and Danny imagined that he was scanning possible futures to see whether there would be any horrible consequences if he let Danny just walk out. Clockwork had explained once that timelines involving beings who existed outside of time, including himself, were much harder to see and much less certain than most. Considering how much Clockwork interacted with him, Danny wondered whether his timeline was still visible at all. When the silence started to get uncomfortable, Danny said,

“Really, I’ll be okay. And I promise to let you know if that changes.” After another moment, Clockwork finally nodded.

“Then I will see you in a week.”

“Well, I’ll see you in a week. You’ll see me right now, because time doesn’t exist here.”

“No, that’s still not how that works.” Danny rolled his eyes. “But, if it makes you happy, then yes, I’ll see you right now.” Danny smiled again, more genuinely this time.

“See you then.”

***

Danny had a math test on Wednesday, which meant that he couldn’t think about anything on Tuesday. For the past two weeks, he’d been telling himself that he still had time, but now he didn’t and he wasn’t prepared. History and science passed in a blur. At the end of each class he had about a page of notes and absolutely no memory of writing them. Tucker tried to help him study during lunch, the two of them sitting alone in a stairwell. Unfortunately, Tucker was a lot better at math than he was at teaching. By the third step of an explanation, Danny had already lost the thread. When he got the wrong answers on practice questions, Tucker couldn’t understand where he had gone wrong or why. At one point, a small group of people walked past them, and one of them made a comment about Danny and Tucker’s sexualities, and then another made a comment about Danny’s genitals and wondered aloud whether that made a difference, and the group continued discussing it as they walked away. Tucker yelped at the electric shock he received through the floor. Danny thanked Tucker for trying to help but said he’d rather keep studying alone.

After lunch was math, which thankfully was a review period. Danny was somewhat comforted by the fact that a lot of people in class had a lot of questions, many of them the same questions that he had. The answers the teacher gave made sense, but then it always made sense in class. He had his pages of practice open in front of him and he wrote on them in pen explaining what he had done wrong and what he should have done. He wrote a lot of exact quotes of what the teacher said. He wasn’t sure it would be enough. When they did practice questions in class he was still getting wrong answers. He didn’t understand why. The teacher would say something and Danny would write it down and then ten minutes later he would be looking at the question and not remember what they’d just talked about. He did get some right, though. He wasn’t sure whether it was luck or skill, but he got some questions right and he had to hold on to that. The test would be worth fifteen percent and that seemed like a lot all at once. Danny knew that being stressed wouldn’t help and he would hate himself if he failed because he was too stressed to focus on that one day. So he tried to figure out how to do the questions he didn’t understand and to remind himself that he did know some of this and based on the questions other people were asking he probably was doing better than some people and that was a good thing and he just had to relax and trust that he was smart enough to pass because if he didn’t relax then it wouldn’t even matter how smart he was and he wasn’t exactly sure how to relax so he just tried to breathe deeply and hoped that was close enough.

Gym wasn’t great, but gym was never great. Danny was a lot stronger and more coordinated in ghost form than human. They had recently started their football unit, which was a blessing in disguise as the coach was almost entirely focused on the students who were on the football team, leaving the rest of the class to devote as much or as little effort as they wanted to the class. Danny was barely aware of what he was doing as he practiced throwing and catching with a partner. He overextended his arm a lot and every time he felt a pang in his elbow, but he wasn’t too worried about it because his ghost powers made him an impossibly fast healer. By this time tomorrow his arm would be perfectly fine and ready for him to wreck it again. He knew that if he just threw the ball properly then he wouldn’t have to deal with the pain. He didn’t want to hurt his arm. So he should probably just stop overextending it. He knew how to; the coach had gone over it at the beginning of class. Danny threw the ball back to his partner and winced.

***

“We’re only bringing this up because we’re worried about you.”

“Yeah, I know.” Danny didn’t make eye contact with his parents, who were sitting on the couch across from him. He was sat cross-legged on a chair, staring at the blank TV screen. He’d been watching some mindless made-for-TV drama flick until a few minutes ago when his parents had turned it off and said they wanted to talk.

“Can you tell us anything about what’s going on?” his father asked, his voice and eyes pleading. Danny understood their concern, of course, but what could he tell them? That he was frustrated because he couldn’t control his new ghost powers? He didn’t imagine that going over well. He shook his head.

“It’s really nothing. I’m sorry if I worried you, but I’m fine.” His father shook his head.

“Danny, it’s obvious you aren’t fine. Please. Is something happening at school? Are you being bullied?”

“No, of course not. I would tell you. That’s what you do, right? ‘Always tell an adult,’ or whatever?”

“Is it drugs?” his mother asked. Danny rolled his eyes.

“No, mom, I can absolutely promise you that I am not now doing nor will I ever do drugs. I’m not an idiot.”

“Sometimes smart people make mistakes, Danny. We want you to feel comfortable enough to come to us if you do make a mistake.” Yeah, actually there was this pretty big mistake involving the ghost portal … He sighed.

“Of course I do, mom. You guys have always been supportive, and I know you’ll love me no matter what.” As long as you still believe that I’m me, and not some ghost pretending to be your son. “Please believe that I would tell you if something was going on.” His parents looked at each other for what felt like a very long time. Then his mother looked back at him and smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Ok, Danny. But just … just talk to us, ok? Whatever’s going on, good or bad, we want to hear about it.”

“We want to be a part of your life,” his father added. Danny did feel guilty for shutting them out, but he knew it had to be done. He wanted to believe that they would accept him as a half-ghost, but … well, but he didn’t.

“You are a part of my life,” he said, chuckling slightly. “I mean, family, friends, school, that’s pretty much all I’ve got going on. By my math, you guys and Jazz are like, an entire third of my life. I’m not sure I can give you much more than that.”

“Speaking of which,” his mother began, her tone still serious. Danny sighed again. “How is school going? Your grades dropped a lot when you started high school. Are you getting the help you need? Are things getting any easier?” Danny shrugged as he looked at the carpet.

“Yeah, I guess? It was just the workload, you know? I wasn’t prepared for it.” Somehow he hadn’t anticipated that he would have to deal with dying and then becoming a superhero at the same time as he was adjusting to high school. “I think this year will be better. I’m starting to … find my rhythm, or something.”

“You’re getting your homework done every night?” Danny cringed, but he covered it with another shrug.

“Yeah, I mean, most of it is optional, anyway. Like, we usually go over everything in class, and the homework is just if you need more practice.” Admittedly, that was true for his math and science classes, so he was only half-lying. He also conveniently left out the detail that he absolutely could use the extra practice. His father smiled brightly.

“Ha! So you’re too smart to need their dumb homework. That’s my boy!” His mother frowned.

“I would feel better if you did the homework, even if you don’t think you need to. Practice never hurt anyone.” Danny almost laughed as he recalled how often he and his friends had gotten hurt when he practiced using his powers in the months after he got them. It wasn’t really funny, though.

“Yeah, I’ll try. Are we done here? Not to be rude, but I was kind of watching TV.” His mother sighed and his father nodded.

“I think we’re done, right Madds? Just remember that you can talk to us about anything that’s bothering you. Especially if it’s ghosts.” He suddenly squinted his eyes. “You aren’t being bothered by ghosts, are you son?” If only you knew. “Because you know your old man could take care of that problem, no … problem.”

“No, dad, I don’t have a ghost problem.” Danny reached for the remote, but hesitated for a moment, partially to decide whether he should say something else and partially to let the tingling in his fingertips subside. The remote was covered in plastic, but he’d learned the hard way that that wasn’t always enough. After a second, he added, “And thanks for reaching out. I know you guys just want what’s best for me. I love you.” His parents both smiled. His father said,

“Anytime, son.” His mother nodded and said,

“We love you, too, sweetie.” Danny smiled back at them for a moment, but he found that he had to look away. After a year and a half, he would have thought lying to them would come naturally, but it still made his stomach twist and his eyes sting.

***

Danny thought that the math test went alright, which possibly meant that his last-minute studying had paid off and possibly meant that he was so unprepared that he couldn’t even tell when he didn’t know the answers. He wanted to believe he was just being pessimistic, but considering how often he’d gotten wrong answers on the practice questions when he thought he was doing them correctly, it seemed at least as likely as not that he had bombed the test. Or maybe he’d performed completely middlingly. He wouldn’t know for at least a few days. That wasn’t going to stop him from worrying about it. Luckily, he also had a history paper due in less than two weeks, so he figured he could switch things up and worry about that when he got tired of worrying about his math grade.

Gym class managed to distract him pretty well as they were now learning plays, which meant a lot of moving around and paying attention to where other people were and hand-eye coordination. He was pretty bad at it, and he got some comments to that effect from other students, but he was used to that.

The football team had practice on the field right after school, and several of the team members arrived a few minutes before the bell. The coach was already completely distracted, so Danny decided he didn’t need to stick around. He changed as quickly as he could in a bathroom stall and sprayed himself with too much body spray because he had long since learned not to shower at school when other students might walk in. He was walking out of the changeroom just as the bell rang, and he saw Dash walking toward him. He put his head down, but there was no way to avoid walking past him. Danny hoped that Dash would ignore him and just go into the changeroom, but when Danny turned down a side hallway, he heard footsteps behind him.

“Leave me alone, Dash. Don’t you have to get to practice?”

“Oh, I’ve always got time to make your life harder, Fenton.” Danny rolled his eyes and kept walking. “Hey, how is gym going for you, anyway? You look like such a scrawny piece of shit, I can’t imagine you’re acing the class. Which is funny, because you want to be an astronaut, don’t you? You know that astronauts have to be in shape, right? As in, a shape other than a stick.”

“‘Stick’ isn’t really a shape.”

“Yeah, that’s what I just said, isn’t it? Jesus, are you deaf, too?”

“Whatever.” Danny was at his locker, now. He turned his body to hide the fact that he opened the door by briefly making the lock intangible.

“Kind of makes me wonder what you’ll actually end up doing for money once you realize your dreams are stupid. Maybe you’ll join the freak family business with your useless dad and weirdly hot mom.” That one got Danny to look up.

“What was that about my mom?” Dash laughed as he leaned casually against the lockers.

“Oh, does that bother you?” Danny shrugged.

“Eh, not really. You’re not the first creep to have a thing for my mom.”

“Well, it’s no wonder. The poor woman doesn’t have real man in the house to look after her. Your dad’s a fucking joke, and you’re, well.” He looked Danny up and down in a way that made him deeply uncomfortable. “Huh. You know, you’ve kind of got her figure. If you hadn’t decided to be a dude, you probably would have looked just like her.” Danny was packing his bag, now, as quickly as he could. He hated everything about how this conversation was going and he could already feel the heat rising in his veins. “You’ve still got a pussy, though, don’t you? You know, I’ve got a couple ideas for how you could make money, if you want.”

What happened next seemed like the kind of thing that should happen in slow-motion, but, instead, it was all terrifyingly fast.

Danny shoved the last book in his bag and slammed his locker shut. As soon as his hand touched the metal door, electricity was flowing out of him, through the wall of lockers, and into Dash’s back. Dash made no sound as he fell to the floor, his body completely limp. There was a slight whisp of smoke rising from his burned shirt.

Danny was frozen in place for several seconds, staring at Dash’s body, praying that he would move, or make some noise, or something. Nothing happened. Soon enough, somebody would come looking for Dash, and Danny felt very strongly that he needed to not be here when they arrived. He locked his locker; somewhere in the back of his mind he thought that leaving it open would tie him to the scene, and closing it would give him plausible deniability. Then, without another look at Dash, he grabbed his backpack and ran.

***

Danny was sitting outside of Clockwork’s castle and thinking. He might have killed someone. He couldn’t control his powers and now he might have killed someone. Dash was an awful person, but did he deserve to die? Actually, Danny didn’t have a good answer to that question. He wondered whether the world would be better without Dash. Then he felt guilty because even if that was the case, it wasn’t Danny’s place to decide who lived and who died. He had lost so much sleep worrying about becoming the kind of person who thought that they could decide who lived and who died simply because they had the power to do so, and now that Dash might be dead he found himself trying to justify his actions and he wondered whether it was already happening and he was already the person he had feared becoming and that terrified him but the idea that he might have just killed an innocent person for no reason simply because his powers were out of his control wasn’t much easier to palette because firstly that meant that he had killed an innocent person which was exactly the kind of thing that the kind of person he didn’t want to be would do and did it really matter why he killed them or whether or not he felt guilty about it when at the end of the day the person was still dead and all of the consequences of that would happen regardless of why he had done it or how he felt about it like all of Dash’s family and friends would be destroyed and all of them were innocent victims too so it wasn’t even just one person that he hurt but countless people in countless ways that he would never even know not that knowing would make it any better and secondly that meant that his powers were out of control and he thought he already knew that but he’d still been careless and acted like he could control them and he didn’t take any precautions and now it was too late and even if it wasn’t too late for Dash Danny still couldn’t avoid the fact that he could have killed someone because he couldn’t control his powers but he had no idea how to control his powers and he wasn’t sure that it was possible and that was really the worst part of all of this because it meant that this could happen again and Danny didn’t want it to happen again of course he didn’t but he remembered what Clockwork had told him that he really was in control but he was just controlling the power subconsciously and all he needed to do was believe that and he could bring that control to his conscious mind and Danny had wanted to believe that before but he couldn’t because it didn’t feel like he was in control but now it was worse because if he accepted that he was in control all along that he would have to accept that he had chosen to electrocute Dash and what really terrified him was that he couldn’t dismiss that possibility out of hand because of course he had wanted to electrocute Dash even if he would never ordinarily have done it and honestly even if he was right and Clockwork was wrong about his powers it was still true that Danny had felt the electricity inside himself and he had seen that Dash was leaning on the lockers and he had touched the metal door so he couldn’t even really say that what had happened had happened because he couldn’t control his power because he could certainly control what he touched and when and he had chosen to touch the locker at that moment which meant that he had chosen to electrocute Dash which meant that he was turning evil and he wanted to say that he didn’t want to be evil but of course he did because if he didn’t then he wouldn’t have done what he did and Danny could swear all day that he hadn’t wanted that to happen but if he really hadn’t wanted to kill Dash then he wouldn’t have but he did or at least he tried to so then Danny must really be evil even though he felt like he didn’t want to be evil and he had no idea what that meant and all he could think was that sooner or later he would probably just accept it and stop feeling guilty and when that happened he had no idea what he might do so he had to make sure that didn’t happen or Clockwork had to because wasn’t that the whole point of their arrangement that Clockwork was supposed to stop Danny from being evil or kill him if he did turn evil but he hadn’t done anything yet which might mean that there was still a chance for Danny or it might mean that Clockwork was just giving him time to process and make peace with what had happened before killing him or maybe Danny was just going to be stuck here in Clockwork’s castle forever where he couldn’t hurt anyone which wasn’t exactly a pleasant idea but he supposed it was better than him hurting people but then if he really believed that then maybe that meant that he really wasn’t evil at all because how could an evil person be willing to sacrifice themselves to save others but then how could a good person have electrocuted someone just because they were being a dick because that was exactly what Danny had done and actions spoke louder than words even the words in someone’s head.

Danny went through the same circular thoughts for what felt like hours, though of course in reality no time was passing. He wondered several times why Clockwork hadn’t come to see him yet - it wasn’t like he didn’t have the time - but he eventually realized that he wasn’t in any state of mind to talk. Gradually, he managed to become … not calm, exactly, but much less agitated.

When Clockwork did appear, he didn’t speak, and Danny didn’t either. He had a lot of questions, but he wasn’t sure he wanted the answers to any of them. For a long time, they both just stared out into the ghost zone, watching the colours in the sky flow and swirl.

“Did I kill him?” Danny asked when he couldn’t bear the silence any longer. Clockwork hesitated a moment before responding.

“You know I can’t tell you what’s going to -” Danny shook his head.

“Yeah, I know. But can you tell me if he was dead when I left?”

“He wasn’t.”

“Ok.” Danny nodded. “Ok.” He didn’t know what else to say.

“You know that you have to go back.” It wasn’t a question, but Danny shook his head.

“I’m not sure I should.”

“I know you’re not, but that doesn’t change anything. You can’t stay here forever. Sooner or later you need to face the consequences of your actions.” Danny closed his eyes.

“I’m not ready.”

“I know.”

Danny tried to take a deep breath, but it caught in his throat. It was only then that he noticed the prickling in his eyes, and within moments the tears were flowing freely. He was dimly surprised to realize that this was the first time he’d cried all day. He’d been thinking so much about what happened, running it over and over and analyzing everything, but he hadn’t really felt it. Now that he was experiencing those emotions, they overwhelmed him. He was scared and sad and frustrated and disappointed and angry and shocked and he had no idea what to do with all of that so he just wrapped his arms around his chest and sobbed. He barely even noticed the other set of arms that encircled him.

The two of them sat, unmoving, for a long time while Danny cried. He felt like he could stay here crying into his mentor’s shoulder forever. Indeed, they were in the one place where that might be possible. But Danny could still feel the passage of time, and, slowly, his tears started to subside, though his emotions were still a mess.

“I can’t do it,” Danny whispered, his voice choked. “My powers, I can’t -”

“You can.”

“I can’t. I can’t even do my homework. I can’t pay attention in class. I can’t throw a goddamn football properly.” Danny sobbed again, and it took him a few tries to get his breath back. “I should be able to, but if I could then why would I be doing this? Why would I make my life harder on purpose? Why would I fucking elecrocute someone? If I could control it then this wouldn’t have happened. Or if I can, then I’m a psychopath.”

“I’m sorry,” Clockwork said gently. “I know this is difficult, but I promise to help you in any way I can.”

“You can’t help me. If I’m the only one who can control what I do, then you can’t help. I’m the only one who could theoretically help me, and apparently I either can’t or won’t.” Danny’s tears had completely stopped now, and he wasn’t sure that was a good thing.

“We’ll keep working on this together. I won’t give up on you, Danny, and I won’t let you give up on yourself.”

“You’re going to be disappointed.”

“Are you implying that the Master of Time doesn’t know what’s going to happen in the future?” He said it like a joke, but Danny couldn’t bring himself to smile.

“Not when you interfere with events.”

“True enough. Even so, I know that you could never disappoint me. And I know that, sooner or later, you will figure out your powers and whatever else you need to figure out. And I know that, impossible though it may sound, you will be happy.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“You don’t have to just yet. For now, I will believe it for both of us.”

#danny phantom #Danny Fenton #clockwork #holiday truce 2019 #fanfic #my writing #transphobia cw #idk how to phrase it but also cw for like negative self talk and general bad mental health

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webcricket · 6 years

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Looking Glass

Chapter 2 - Welcome to Bunkerland

Pairing: CastielXAU!Reader

Word Count: 1643

Summary: A summer hiatus series. The reader is a refugee from the apocalypse AU where angels pursue humans with righteous wrath under the rule of the archangel Michael. Against all odds, the reader awakens in a world where the apocalypse never happened and not everyone is who they seem to be. Does her heart truly long to save her world, or does it belong now to the last person she ever expected to give it to?

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Humming contentment, inhabiting the sluggish middle-ground between sleep and sentience, you loll to one side of the bed. Knees curling to your chest, you nuzzle your chin deeper into the pillow and slide a hand beneath the cushion to cuddle it closer. The cotton fabric is cool and crisp to the touch. The clean floral hint of the dryer sheet with which it tumbled – and recently, judging by the fresh fragrance – tickles your nose. Poised at the brim of awareness, consciousness gently cascading over your somnolent senses, untroubled comfort blankets you for another blissful moment before wakeful alarm courses through your languid frame.

Fighting the reflex to flail off the sheets and flee, balling the pillow in your fists, you force yourself to freeze and formulate a plan. You still the dissenting shudder of your body as your heart sprints and adrenaline floods your veins and urges you contrariwise – every double beat a deafening drum to rise and run in your ears. You drink in a deep calming breath through your nose, reciting the mantra to stop and think over the wail of your pulse. Reaching into your memory to try to figure out what happened, you contort bodily and choke back a scream. Thinking hurts.

Mind a dense haze of smoke, brain a smoldering black coal that flares in a painful fiery burst when you try to recall any detail of the who, what, where, when, why, or how of being here, you default, instead, to basic survival instinct. You have an indistinct sense that wherever this place is, it’s very unlike the last place. You feel that you’re safe; some piece of you, however – a bit of coding programmed into your DNA – knows it’s not safe to trust safe anymore because nowhere is really safe from . . . You gasp at the galvanizing flash of lighting striking down the attempt at thought. Not thinking is hard.

Enough. Your eyelids separate into the slimmest of slits necessary to admit light in order to inventory the immediate surroundings: Bedside lamp, bulb illuminated and radiating a warm glow. Digital red numbers on an alarm clock indicating a time of 5:37PM. Glass of perfectly clear water, three-quarters full. Sheet of paper, thick enough to stand on the folded edge, a message scribbled across in bold black ink.

You clamp your lashes shut and take a slow and measured inhalation. Holding the air in your lungs until they begin to burn, you listen. You perceive only the rapid tinny race of your bounding heart. Identifying no imminent peril, you pop open both eyes and blow out the hot torrent of checked breath, panting afterward in relief. Swinging your legs over the side of the mattress, attention sweeping the bare walls, single wooden door, and beige-brown color palette of the windowless utilitarian room, your focus settles once more on the piece of paper on the nightstand.

You pluck it up to examine the note evidently intended for you as there doesn’t seem to be anyone else here. It reads: Back soon – make yourself at home. It’s a concise welcome, but does nothing whatsoever to clear up the confusion of where you are or how you came to be here. Your temples throb as you tread dangerously near a rising recollection. Rubbing at the ache, you notice ink bleeding through from the other side and flip the sheet: Stay put – don’t break anything. The handwriting is as different as the vaguely threatening sentiment and equally meaningless to you.

Tossing aside the paper, you hop to the floor. You suck in a quick shot of air to shallowly expand your ribcage and peer down at the external state of matters stretching from your neck to toes. It isn’t the oversized fleece-lined sweatshirt hanging off one shoulder, extending well beyond your fingertips and shrouding you to your thighs that shocks you. Nor is it the wide-legged plaid pajama pants rolled up to your ankles that come as a surprise.

You tentatively shift your weight from one leg to the other and jump again. Your bare feet land with a quiet and painless thud on the tile. The pleased smile – small as it is – has no time to brush its subtle curve onto your mouth before a cinch of blazing embers ensnares your skull. Knees buckling, you sink shrieking to the floor as you realize your left leg isn’t the shattered limb you remember. You badly broke the leg when you lost your footing on a rugged mountain pass leading to a camp in Dayton, Ohio and the rumored promise of safety there. Safety. Through the crippling agony, specifics of the incident of failing to outrun a band of angels and your subsequent capture return to you.

When you recover your faculties, tears puddle on the porcelain where your forehead presses to the cold tile. Tongue swiping your lips, you taste the salt streaking your cheeks. Rocking onto your heels, you clasp your fingers around your wrists in turn and run the pads of them over the smooth skin. Like your fractured limb they, too, are unmarked by the tight binds that secured you to the chair in the cabin where . . . You flatten your palms to the floor in front of you to keep from crumpling at the emergent memory of him.

Castiel – the other angels called him Castiel, a seraphim sadist, strangely sentimental. He’s the one who set your brain ablaze. He wanted information about where the refugees were gathering and why. And he especially wanted to know the whereabouts of someone named Jack. He lit brush fires in your mind as if to smoke the information out. You don’t know jack, about any Jack, but you were willing to die before divulging anything to that divine douchebag.

You dare to think, perhaps, you are dead. Sitting upright, you glance around the room with that viewpoint. Imagining yourself in Heaven instills no solace. Heaven is chock full of angels and you’d rather be in Hell. You’ve heard it’s pretty decent digs since the apocalypse went down and all the demons went topside. You don’t expect anyone in power much cares where human souls end up nowadays.

From this vantage point, headache abating, you spot a square of pink in the center of the door you missed before. Standing up, you cross the room and squint at the writing: Kitchen is to the right if you want something to eat. It’s the same friendly scroll as the note bidding you to make yourself at home. Your stomach rumbles with enthusiasm. There’s a second square tucked below the first with a warning: Don’t drink all the beer.

“Seriously?” you snicker aloud. “Somebody’s in a bitchy mood.” You imagine it was quite the row these chuckleheads with warring memos had before they deigned to leave you here alone, wherever the heck here actually is.

Turning the doorknob, you step into the hall to make your way to the kitchen. Your eyes dart to each steady bulb of light illuminating the way. You find it curious there is no loud whirring roar of a generator providing the electricity. Until now, you believed electricity of this sort, available at the whim of a finger flicking a switch, was an extinct species – mere magical fodder for children’s bedtime stories.

You pause before a gaping door and peer into what must be the kitchen based on the stainless steel storage stretching along the walls. This room, you note, like the one you awoke in, is also windowless and tidy in efficiency. Throat itchy with thirst and thinking of the untouched glass of water you left bedside, you swallow dryly and cross over to the sink. Purely for your own amusement, since it also doesn’t exist anymore in a convenient manner, you twist on the hot water tap and cup your hands beneath the spout. Steamy liquid warmth instantly flows over and fills your upturned palms. Snorting a laugh, you dip your head to the basin to splash your skin with the soothing spray.

It’s with your face ducked under the faucet, letting the warmth pour across your foolishly grinning features, fully submerged in this fantasy come to life, fingers clasped to the sink edge to keep from falling in, that you fail to hear the gravelly voice resounding on approach in the hall over the rush of the water.

“Sam! Dean? I’m back. I have good news and bad news. The good news is, I was able to enter Heaven and the other angels didn’t murder me as we anticipated they would. The bad news is, they didn’t murder me because there are only a handful of us left and-” Cas swallows the remainder of his report as he leans over the kitchen threshold to study the peculiar scene.

Although he healed your physical injuries after Dean dragged you through the rift, he hadn’t expected you to wake given the sustained suffering of your mind. Even an angel cannot always undo the work of angels. He’s glad to see he was wrong. Determining his silent stare could be considered rude, he clears his throat, steps into the room, and announces his presence. “Hello?”

Through the blear of water wetting your lashes, you see a figure – a man, judging from the broadness of his shoulders – drifting toward you from the doorway. “Sorry, I-” You recoil from the sink, apologizing out of awkwardness. Slick fingers scrambling to turn off the faucet, you simultaneously grope along the counter for something to wipe your eyes.

“Here.” The raspy word is followed by a cloth laid against your arm.

“Thanks.” You dab the cotton to your face. “I-” When you look up from the towel, the man’s eyes lock on yours, both of them blue. The hue – an unmistakable shade seared into your memory – instills you with horror.

Next: Ch. 3 - The Quote Unquote Situation

#castiel x reader #castiel x you #castiel series #castiel x y/n #castiel reader insert #spn x reader #spn reader insert #castielxreader #castielxyou #reader x castiel #you x castiel #cas x reader #cas x you #castiel fanfiction #spn fanfiction #castiel angst #castiel fluff #cricket writes cas

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dailyaudiobible · 3 years

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08/13/2021 DAB Transcript

Nehemiah 5:14-7:73, 1 Corinthians 8:1-13, Psalm 33:1-11, Proverbs 21:8-10

Today is the 13th day of August, welcome to the Daily Audio Bible, I’m Brian, it is wonderful as it always is to be here with you today as we take the next step forward together through the Scriptures and we find ourselves sitting in the book of Nehemiah at the moment, in the Old Testament. And, we will continue our journey today by reading chapter 5 verse 14 through 7 verse 73.

Commentary:

Alright so, as we continue our journey through the book of Nehemiah, we are getting a first, like a front row seat to an excellent picture of leadership and calling and mission and so and we’ve been working through that over the last couple of days which we continue to do today by simply observing the events that happened and Nehemiah's responses to them. And so, we did see how Nehemiah planned the whole thing out and how things moved along really, really quickly, until they didn't. And then all the obstacles of intimidation and taunting and discrediting and the threat of actual violence against the people, the inside job of the nobles taking advantage of the commoners right…right within the Israelite community. All these things we’ve watched Nehemiah deal with over the last couple of days. Today, we see a couple of things. One, we…we see an account of Nehemiah saying that he as the governor did not impose the needs of the governor, the resources that the governor needed upon the people because they were already stretched as thin as they could be. And so, essentially out of his own pocket, he cared for the needs, well his own needs as the governor which included feeding 150 people a day and so quite a few animals and cooking and resources were needed and wine and oil and all of this. And he paid for it so as not to put the burden on the people, so as not to slow down the work. So, we see that this calling, that this mission that Nehemiah is on to complete this objective of giving a wall, a secure wall around Jerusalem, nothing is making him deviate. It is such a burning thing that he's doing it for free. It's that kind of a thing, I would do this for free, I love this. This is what I'm supposed to do, well that's exactly what he's doing, only it's more than that, he's doing it for free but he’s also paying for it to happen. And so, that gives us a sense of the single minded, purposeful commitment that Nehemiah had to what he was called to do. And, he also mentions how there weren’t a bunch of houses in Jerusalem, it’s a pretty empty place and man, like he's the governor, this is the time to pick the prime real estate in the forming city. Like this, this is the time to build the legacy for generation after generation after generation in your family because you have this ground-floor opportunity, but that wasn't his calling and that wasn't his mission and so that’s not what he did and then he faced some really, really dirty politics. So, a conspiracy theory was hatched against Nehemiah and he was invited to come talk about what was going on to have a meeting in the Ono Valley and Nehemiah's response was I'm up on this wall doing good work, I’m not coming down off this wall. Like, I’m not abandoning my mission to come talk with you guys, who have only threatened and taunted us. And so, four times he does the same rejection, I’m not coming down off this wall. This is my mission. I am not coming down off this wall, to commune with you and hear garbage that is coming out of your mouth. And so, they send him an open letter so that he can become, well he’s supposed to be terribly intimidated and incredibly threatened by…by the rumor because the rumor, if it gets back to the king and the king believes it, Nehemiah is dead because the rumor that's being hatched is that Nehemiah wanted to rebuild this wall and have the temple in place and the prophets in place so that he could be declared the king and that he would be the king of Jerusalem, there was no truth in that. Nehemiah wanted to finish the wall. It wasn't trying to be the king. There was no truth in that. And he said as much, and then he redoubled his efforts to continue the work so that the people would not be discouraged or intimidated. And, then there's this prophetic utterance that Nehemiah should go into the temple because people are coming to kill him, and these prophets quote, unquote prophets had been hired by the very people doing the taunting, so that Nehemiah would flee to the temple and this would discredit him like he needed to flee there to escape some sin, some kind of thing that he had done wrong, so that he would be discredited and so that this story could start to take root and discourage the people away from Nehemiah. Nehemiah is like somebody like me, the governor doing this specific job should I…should I be on the run. And so, we see again as with every other situation that Nehemiah faces, he turns to God and actually that's how this narrative works, is it Nehemiah's explaining a lot of the situation in prayer form. That's how we find out what's going on is that he's pouring this out to God. This is where he's taking his complaint or is discouragements. He turns to God because this is his mission and he is doing this mission on behalf for God believing this is what he supposed to do and so he turns to God in these circumstances, because only God can rescue them. This is an act of service to God for God. And so, we see Nehemiah doesn't deviate. When opportunity arises, he doesn't deviate. When challenge arises, he doesn't deviate. When the progress has to be slowed down, he doesn't deviate he just moves forward slower. When they can redouble their efforts, they move faster but they don't deviate from the mission. This is where it becomes so helpful for us to consider, because all the things that Nehemiah and the people are facing as they try to rebuild the wall are the kinds of things that we face in one way or another, and they have every reason to quit. I mean, they have plenty coming against them to say that this…we just can't get this done but they don't stop and that's usually how success materializes. We don't stop we keep going until we get there because we have a burning passion inside to see the completion of whatever it is, no matter what happens.

Prayer:

And so, Father we've all felt pulled toward something in some direction. And our culture really, really pulls, even our Christian subculture pulls us toward how big and how much influence and how many people and how spread out can this be, when that's not really the normal way of things. We each have assignments. We each have missions and we each face challenges as we work toward those objectives and goals and so often, we might keep trying to endure and have stamina but this picture in Nehemiah of continually turning toward You is beautiful and necessary and so often is the missing piece in our own story. We get discouraged. We think You're not in it, we think You've abandoned us so we abandoned it. When it was just challenge, we just needed to endure. We just needed to keep moving forward. And so, come Holy Spirit into this. Reignite the things within us that have gone by the wayside that we have not completed because we gave up, but they’re still there. Come, Holy Spirit, we pray in Jesus name we ask. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com is home base, that’s the websites. It’s where you find out what is afoot, what is happening around here and so be sure to check that out. If you’re using the Daily Audio Bible app, just push the drawer icon in the upper left-hand corner, that’ll open up a drawer and you can check everything out from there. Check out the Community section. In the community section, you'll find different links that can connect you to other listeners on social media. It can keep you informed on the things that we post and any announcements that need to be made so check that out. But also in the Community section is the Prayer Wall and that is…that is something that is always available, always there, day or night. No matter where you are in the world, no matter what is going on, you can always reach out for prayer. And, if you find yourself, I don’t know, just kind of swirling in a fog of things that keep you focused on yourself because you're in pain or because just the circumstances of life, bringing a lot of anxiety or maybe keeping you awake at night. It's profound what happens when we force ourselves to turn outward and may be away from just focusing on ourselves. We begin to focus on others realizing that we’re not the only one going through something. Maybe what we’re going through is unique, maybe nobody else in the whole world is experiencing it, but everybody, everybody is enduring something at some point. If we ever get to experience absolute perfection, it's…it's brief. We have challenges and we have to cling to the Lord, of course, but clinging to one another, knowing that we are one body, and when one part of the body hurts, we all hurt. The prayer wall is just a place to know, like, I can, yeah, I can reach out for prayer but this anxiety that I’m feeling, I can focus this energy into good by praying for my brothers and sisters who are also enduring something. And so, the Prayer Wall is always there, so check that out.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, you can do that at dailyaudiobible.com. There's a link on the homepage. If you’re using the app you can press the Give button in the upper right hand corner. Or the mailing address is P.O. Box 1996 Springhill, Tennessee 37174.

And as always if you have a prayer request or encouragement, you can hit the Hotline button in the app which is the little red button up at the top and that works no matter where you are in the world as long as you have internet. Or you can dial 877-942-4253.

And that's it for today, I’m Brian, I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Prayers and Encouragements:

Hello DAB, it feels nice to just be kind of more constantly in this prayer wall/prayer call, it’s just nice. This is People on the Water from Indiana and I’m calling just because I’m happy. I’m calling because I just heard Zach's message on, gosh, the 22nd of July and he just, it just, it was just nice to hear it. He was saying Psalm 42 caste your cares upon Him for He cares for you. Considering another ladies ship wrecked situation and he himself is going through a rough patch in marriage and just the way he explained that I wanted thank you Zach that was encouraging and eye-opening and just your faith to see beyond your own struggle calling in for a prayer but then also calling in to pray for someone, that's cool. So, thanks for that. Love you DAB. Bye.

Good morning DABers, John O’Conner here calling in from South Sudan, it’s been quite a while since I called in but anyway. I’m calling in to speak to a young man, 24 years old, who said his father recently passed away and he's found himself growing closer to the Lord. But then, that his struggle with loneliness which, because of some physical deformity, he found it difficult to be around people. Lord I pray for this young man. He could have easily been one of my Shawns. I speak to his heart even right now. May Your peace that passeth all understanding undergird his heart and mind. Open his eyes, spiritual eyes, that he will see that his identity is in Jesus Christ, not in some physical deformity. Father help him to understand that regardless of whatever deformities we have in this world you have brought us out in this world for a purpose. May he develop that sense of purpose and maybe pursue that purpose. Thank you for answering this prayer. Thank you for touching him, and Father, thank You for healing him in all areas of his life and elevating him so that he will understand that he is the righteousness of God in Christ. In Jesus matchless name. Amen.

Hello, DAB family this is the Disciple that He Loved in Ohio. I am calling with an update and a praise. Thank you so much for all of you who prayed for my daughter. I have a 15-year-old whose been suicidal for years. I have noticed such a change in her heart and behavior since I called and asked everyone to pray. She did make a really bad decision last week but she was repentant when I corrected her and didn’t threaten to commit suicide, which is a big step in the right direction for us. We have an appointment with a psychologist on Thursday, we really hope that he will be able to get to the root of what’s causing all these behaviors and mental health problems. I just really covet your prayers family. I just, my daughter is so lost right now. I spent my whole life teaching her about Jesus and she’s committed her life to him once as a very young child and once in a public confirmation ceremony at church when she was 12. But now she says she doesn’t even think He exists. So just pray that she would turn back to Him, that she would know who He is. I just pray for everyone out there who has kids that have wondered away from God or have mental health issues. I thank you for all of your prayers. They are working. Please keep praying for my daughter Alexis.

Greetings Brian and DAB family this is Viv. My encouragement to everyone today is that you are not here by chance. Whether you stumbled on the app or found it through a friend or got handed a DAB card, with God nothing is by chance. He wastes nothing. And we use even the worse days of our lives to His glory and to give us a testimony of His love and redemption. Susan, God’s Yellow Flower, I am rejoicing with you what an amazing answer to prayers. I’m overjoyed to hear that Keith’s tumors are gone and you’re being able to breath a little and enjoy your grandchildren. Thank you for the update. Well and how wonderful to hear James’ encouragement just after Susan’s call, to God be the glory. Father God, Lord Almighty, we thank you for these two praise reports and the countless others that are being celebrated in this community. We acknowledge that you are the giver and sustainer of life and there’s nothing to hard for you. So, as we celebrate the victories and continue to submit the needs to you, I just ask Father for Your grace over all of us. I think of Eugene and his social challenges and pray that You will encourage and surround him with love wherever he goes. Thank You for his faith in You and may You continue to strengthen him in this regard. Thank You for this community and for Brian and his faithfulness and thank You for Your grace and mercies that are new everyday. In Jesus’ name I pray. Amen. This is Viv, peace to all and by for now.

Hey Daily Audio Bible family it is Doctor John with a praise report. All you prayer warriors, you know, I’m calling and I say I’m a huge fan of miracles, I love miracles but mostly they’re experienced by other people, I experienced a miracle on Friday. I called you guys, I could not, literally could not see out of my right eye. It was dark and light if I looked at something really bright, I saw visuals of light coming through. I was blind in my right eye, when I called as a complication of my glaucoma surgery last Tuesday. And, I called you guys, my wife prayed over me and she had another one from our church put me on the prayer team. I laid down, two hours later I got up and my vision was back. And, I’m a medical person, I’m a doctor and I’m like, yeah that’s just a miracle. So, all of you Daily Audio Bible prayer warriors, thank you so much for those of you who called, for those of you who don’t call. It’s the majority of us that don’t call in but are still praying for everybody on the prayer line. And it makes a difference. So, if you ever feel like your prayers don’t make a difference just, I’ll tell you, they do. This is the second, absolute miracle that I have seen through prayers for me and my family. So, I was prepared to be blind. My wife was really upset and she’s like why and I said I don’t care because we are so blessed and if I lose my vision, it will be for God’s glory. You know, naked I came into the world and naked I will leave. The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord. And so, God is glorified through your prayers. Thank you everybody.

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imaginarybird · 7 years

Text

Because Reasons

@frankchurchillsaysrelax requested Emmett and Elle from Legally Blonde+enemies to friends to lovers+girl/boy next door+High School/College/Teacher AU... And this was born.

It’s not that Emmett hates his new co-chair of the history department on principle (although the position was supposed to be his and his alone this year). It’s not even that he hates her for constantly parking her car in his unofficial parking spot, or for always playing the most ridiculously upbeat pop music in her office that shares a wall with his, or even that she doesn’t believe in written exams and only uses glittery feather topped pens that write in pink ink.

No, the real problem is that her proposal for a student-run news magazine garners at least five times the student interest as his debate team proposal. And when she gets voted the head of the senior send-off committee--a position he’s held with pride for years as the de facto young staff member. And when all of his students start trying to transfer from his classes in favor of hers, and when that doesn’t work, they start attending her after school study sessions instead of his.

All of this coming together, along with her renting the house next door to his so there’s literally no getting away from her… that’s what makes it impossible to stand Elle Woods.

“Emmett, so glad you can join us.” Elle says from the front of the classroom where the senior send-off committee meeting is taking place before school starts, where she’s writing some bullet points on the whiteboard with one of her signature pink markers. “Don’t worry, you’re only ten minutes late so all you’ve really missed is the summary of the last meeting.”

Reason #24 Emmett tries to avoid dealing with Elle at all costs: she’s always so… perky. Even when she’s being passive aggressive, or downright cutthroat when they’re arguing, Elle is smiling. She’s sweet and smiling and powerful and beautiful and it’s just not normal.

He clenches his jaw as he answers. “The staff parking lot was full.” Because she had pulled into it about fifteen seconds before him and taken his spot. “I had to go to the public lot on the other side of campus.”

“Oh, you should plan ahead next time.” She offers. “It must take about...ten minutes or so to drive over there and walk back.”

“You don’t say.”

The meeting progresses as they always do--everyone presents their ideas, he and Elle snark at each other, everyone likes Elle’s ideas best, he tries to point out the implausibility or the impropriety of doing something like throwing a casino night for a bunch of graduating high schoolers and gets ignored, they snark some more, and somehow he ends up getting volunteered to cover Elle’s detention duty for the month so she can focus her energy on planning the entire venture, starting this afternoon.

Reason # 25: Somehow she can convince anyone to do what she wants. Even when it’s inconvenient for them and they don’t want to do it at all.

He’s in an awful mood for the rest of the day, and because he has to supervise detention, he gets on the road late to head back upstate for his mom’s birthday dinner. Most of the drive is spent mentally cursing Elle’s name because it was her detention duty to begin with and it’s his fault that he ended up taking it and getting stuck in rush hour, and getting to his mom’s nearly an hour later than he had promised.

Even after the dinner, after a nice night with his mom, he’s stuck driving back in the driving rain so it’s dark and miserable and tense and slow again and Emmett can’t help but think somehow that that’s Elle’s fault too.

It would be just like her to be able to control the weather.

Reason # 26.

He finally gets home and all he wants to do is crawl into bed but he can’t. The neighborhood is lit up like the Fourth of July with the flashing blue and red lights of several police cars. And they’re all gathered in the driveway and on the lawn next to his.

Emmett’s heart jumps up into his mouth in the moments between figuring out where all the cops are and spotting Elle’s blonde hair and pink trench coat amongst the crowd and realizing that whatever had happened, she was all right. He feels sick anyways as he gets out of his car and takes in the whole scene.There are broken windows, the front door is barely on its hinges...he can only imagine what the inside of the house must look like… How scared Elle must be if she were inside.

Reason # 27: She’s not despicable enough. He can’t stand her and yet he’s worried about her anyway. How is any of this fair?

With a slight sigh he gets out of his car, upturning the collar of his jacket against the rain and crosses over to Elle’s lawn, just to ask the police what exactly had happened.

Elle spots him before he can even get a word out and rushes over; she pulls him into a hug that lasts far too long considering they’ve only ever shaken hands before and he thinks maybe, possibly, that she might be crying onto his shoulder.

Completely unsure of what to do, Emmett uses one hand to pat Elle on the back. Once, then twice, and she pulls away before he can go for a third tap.

“Oh my god, Emmett it’s awful. I got home and someone had broken in! The house is a disaster, my things are all over the place or missing…”

“So you weren’t inside when it happened? You’re OK?”

“I’m fine.” Elle nods, crossing her arms over her chest. “Whoever it was broke in while I was at the grocery store. They were gone by the time I got back. Which is too bad because I took four years of krav maga in college and I would have been more than happy to dust off my skills if I had found the skeezy jerk who painted such a disgusting message in my room.”

It takes a second for Emmett to parse out the most important information there. “Wait, you went in the house? Before the police got here?”

“Of course! I had to see if they had taken anything.”

Reason # 28: She has positively no sense of self-preservation.

But Emmett can barely contemplate it before one of the police officers comes over, provides Elle with a rundown of what they’ve found thus far, and tells her she’ll need to find a place to stay for the night. Elle looks suddenly small again, soaked from the rain and more than a little nervous about the whole affair. His mouth and brain refuse to communicate on the matter.

“She can stay with me.”

Gaining a roommate in Elle Woods is an experience unto itself.

She critiques the contents of his shower (“Emmett, grown men do not only have a bar of soap and a bottle of Head and Shoulders to bathe themselves with”). She borrows clothes. She makes breakfast.

She makes good breakfast.

Reason # 29: She’s good at everything she tries. Who does that?

It’s actually kind of frustrating to share a living space with Elle. Because the longer Emmett is around her, the more time they spend in the same room doing their respective grading, the more conversations she drags out of him, the more cleanly scented products that seem to find their way into his bathroom, the more he realizes she’s kind of… nice. And caring. And if she does control the weather she’s probably only doing it better the world of the people around her.

Reason # 30 Elle Woods is the actual worst: She’s not the worst at all and Emmett’s going to have to admit (if only to himself) that he was, in at least a few different ways, wrong about her.

Before too long--maybe three or four days into what was going to be a one night stay--Emmett and Elle are actually sharing stories about themselves and laughing together in more than a ‘I can’t tolerate you but we’re colleagues so I’ll pretend that you’re super funny’ kind of way.

And then they start eating lunch together. Sharing a living space and being a friend to the environment (“I’ll have you know that one of my first acts when I was put in charge of my Delta Nu chapter was to get our house put on solar power. We have a responsibility to care for our planet, Emmett.”) means that they start commuting so he gets his parking space back, sort of.

“I’m glad to see you and Ms. Woods are finally working past your differences.” The headmaster says one day as he and Emmett walk out of a staff meeting where Emmett and Elle had found themselves in agreement on every issue and teaming up on more than one occasion to argue their points. “The history department, and indeed the school will be a finer place for your friendship.”

Emmett’s not entirely sure that he and Elle are friends or if they’ve finally just realized that the things they were finding annoying about each other are a little more endearing when they got to know each other, but he does know that when the repairs on Elle’s house are finished and she officially has no more excuses to stick around at his place, the morning he wakes up and there’s not a blonde doing tae bo in his living room while bacon fries in the kitchen, the house feels like something is missing.

The school year continues and at a certain point Emmett knows for certain that he and Elle are definitely friends. He would never in a million years let someone who wasn’t his friend go through his wardrobe and replace all the clothes that make him look like a quote-unquote ‘scruffy fuddy-duddy’(“Emmett, you’re a history teacher at a prep school in his thirties, the kids will take you more seriously if you don’t dress like an ivy league philosophy professor from 1973”).

This doesn’t mean he stops hating her--reason # 33: she signs every text message with a heart emoji and he’s pretty sure she actually means it--but his feelings of hate stop being that jaw-clenching, boiling sensation in his gut and start feeling a lot more… fluttery. Like someone shakes up a warm bottle of champagne and lets it explode all over him, leaving him comfortable and tingly and on edge all at the same time.

That’s what hating Elle Woods feels like now that they’re friends.

It’s a feeling that seems to grow every time she throws her head back in laughter or settles down to do some serious work, throwing on reading glasses and chewing on the end of a pen cap.

He’s not sure that he likes being friends with Elle--his inner grump doesn’t know what to do with himself now that everything she does is kind of endearing rather than being the most annoying thing on the planet--but they keep getting closer regardless. Elle has a way of doing that. Of knowing the right things to say and being adorable and actually being really helpful when he needs it. They’re constantly spending time together and as much as he hates her, he doesn’t really hate it at all.

Maybe that’s why it stings so much when Elle announces that she’ll be spending her summer break back in her home of Malibu. Because he’s gotten used to spending time with her and they’ve built a good working relationship and he had just assumed that she’d be working with him at the school’s summer program too. It’s definitely not because he’s going to miss her.

Except the more he thinks about it, the closer they get to the end of the year and the more she talks about her trip, the more Emmett starts to consider that it might be.

Reason #34: He’s going to miss her.

Well, that’s just not going to work.

Emmett’s used to having people in his life not stick around so this shouldn’t be a big deal, particularly since she’ll come back in the fall but for some reason it feels like it is. Only he can’t say anything because that definitely won’t work so he can do nothing but go back to clenching his jaw and biting his tongue whenever he’s around her. He just needs to put a little distance back between them; after all you can’t miss someone that you’re not close with so if he stops sharing with her, stops finding her jokes so funny, stops wanting to be her friend...a summer without her won’t be so bad.

“Would you stop being weird?”

Of course...Elle notices and she’s not one to keep quiet about what she notices and when they’re chaperoning prom a couple of weeks before graduation she gives him an exasperated look while they count the King and Queen Ballots.

“What?”

“Stop being so weird.” She repeats abandoning her work. “It’s been a couple of weeks and I can’t think of a single thing that I’ve done to bug you lately, and we only have a couple weeks left before I leave for the summer, so either tell me what I did so I can apologize and we can go back to the way things were or...stop acting like a butthead!”

“A butthead?” Emmett sputters over the insult, unable to believe that it’s what Elle landed on. Not even his students use such...silly benign put-downs. He’s oddly offended that she didn’t pick something better. “You think I’m a butthead?”

“I think you’ve got a lot of butthead tendencies.” She huffs. “Your stubbornness and inability to say what you’re actually thinking being two of them.”

“How do you know I don’t say what I’m thinking?”

“Because if you did, you’d tell me why you’re mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at you Elle, I’m gonna miss you!”

Oh.

Oh, she’s good. She’s really good.

Emmett doesn’t even realize what he’s said until a second or two afterwards when Elle is staring at him with her mouth hanging open.

“You’re gonna miss me?”

Angry with himself for letting the feelings he’s been trying to bury out so easily, and more than a little embarrassed because this is not the sort of thing he does or the kind of conversation he has ever but if he refers back to reason #25...it’s somehow impossible to not give in to her, Emmett feels his cheeks heat up and looks to the side at the start of his answer. “Of course I’m going to miss you. It’s actually infuriating how much I’m going to miss you. Everything you do is annoying and yet somehow adorable at the same time and it’s not fair because we were not friends and we were never going to be but you wormed your way into my life anyways and now it’s impossible to think about what my summer’s going to be like without you force-feeding me quinoa salads and buying me ties that cost more than my car payment because you think they’ll bring out my eyes and not getting to see you crinkle your nose when you get frustrated because I’m fighting you on all of that and--,”

Elle leans across the table, cupping his face in her hands. She presses her lips to his, smiling as she pulls away. “I’m gonna miss you too.”

Oh.

Reason # 35 Emmett Forrest hates Elle Woods: He doesn’t hate her at all.

#legally blonde #fanfiction #elle woods #emmett forrest #this got away from me #a ficlet can be 2500 or so words right?#anyway #this is more based on the characterization in the musical than in the movie #because I like that emmett so much better #punintended #writing games #ficlet #?

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sylvaniaschoolofmagic · 7 years

Text

The Trials: The Hallway

[Another trial done, Sonic and Knuckles must face the next room. It looks safe enough, but looks can be deceiving...]

Once Sonic’s paralysis wore off, they left Angus in a pile of sodafruit. The little blitzhound was snoozing amongst his snacks, probably worn out from the quote-unquote “battle” (which was soundly a butt-kicking from Sonic’s point-of-view—Angus: 1, Sonic: 0), and he didn’t move and only snuffled deeper into his nap as they found the door, shook the light out of their wands with a simple Nox, and departed.

“Man, that was great exercise. We should spend more time with Angus,” Sonic said as Knuckles heaved the giant door open. A sharp burst of light greeted them. “Oh cool, a room with decent electricity. What a change of pace.”

Sonic’s sarcasm—the direct result of having his butt handed to him twice on two separate occasions—sailed right over Knuckles’s head and the echidna simply shrugged as he stepped over the threshold into the next room. “Don’t trust something just because you can see it. You never know what’s lurking behind these stones.”

“Wow, archaic and sagely. Where’d they pick you up, Mister Echidna-man?” Sonic shot back. It was rude and insensitive, but his knees were scraped and felt a bit like two balls of flame turning in their sockets and he couldn’t quite feel his toes, so he wasn’t exactly in the best mood.

Knuckles ignored him and stopped as the door slammed behind them. Sonic was forced to swerve to avoid running into him. “This is new,” Knuckles muttered, hands curling into tight fists.

The room was more of a hallway than a room, a long, narrow passageway that shot straight down to the next door. In front of the door there was some kind of pedestal with an angled table pointed toward them, like a drafting table. The walls on either side of the room were made of stones, irregular and shoved together as if the builders were in a hurry to get it done and get out. Sonic craned upward and the ceiling was nothing more than the Room’s typical mist, lit from behind with a soft glow.

Knuckles took a step toward the front and Sonic’s hand snapped out and grabbed his sleeve. “Don’t,” the hedgehog hissed, eyes tracking down to the floor. “Have you ever seen a treasure hunting adventure movie?”

“Huh?” Knuckles stopped only because he was stumped, immediately, by Sonic’s question—just what Sonic wanted.

“You know, Indiana Jones? The Mummy? Where they go into a crypt or dungeon and you can just tell it’s a trap? What if we move forward and arrows shoot out of the walls or something?”

“Sonic,” Knuckles’s voice sounded pained, “this isn’t a dungeon. It’s a room in a school. Do you really think they’d do something that could hurt someone?”

He had a point, but Sonic wasn’t convinced. “You might be right, but I think we need to be careful.”

Knuckles threw his hands up. “What do you want us to do? Stand here? We have to do something! I thought you wanted to get to the Philosopher’s Stone!”

“Whoa, whoa.” Sonic grabbed Knuckles by the shoulder and tried to tug him back, but Knuckles was too strong. “Since when are you the impatient one?”

“Since when are you the one that thinks things through? You’re always jumping into danger, and now, when you’ve nearly gotten me killed twice by the way, you decide to hesitate! Well, I’m the Guardian of the Master Emerald, and I’m done waiting around!”

Knuckles shrugged Sonic off, took a step forward, and then another, looked smugly back at his friend, and continued forward. Sonic stayed where he was, shocked and boggled at Knuckles’s behavior, surprised at his own, wondered for half a second if maybe the mist had somehow magically swapped their personalities or if their stress reactions were really this on the nose—

And then the walls started moving.

Knuckles froze, stopped all his locomotion like he was flash frozen in place, and slowly, with deliberate movements, looked at the walls. They were reshaping themselves, stones moving like snakes as they dislodged from each other and crept forward, toward the middle of the room, toward Knuckles, like some magical, creeping version of the walls from every adventure story ever. The type of thing that made the main character yell—

“The walls are closing in!” Sonic practically screeched as he realized. The walls were moving toward them in a ripple, stones moving both independent of each other and in a unit, creating a solid block that crept inward at a slow, terrifying pace. Sonic jerked and rushed for the door, swung past Knuckles as his friend tried to get his bearings, tried to understand what was going on, and jumped over the pedestal. He ripped at the door handle, hand grappling and lurching the handle, but—

“It’s locked!” Sonic cried. The sound of the walls almost washed him out. He craned to look over his shoulder and Knuckles seemed to finally be getting his feet back under him, his brain back under control, “Knuckles! We gotta do something!”

The walls were moving at a good clip now, but they had enough space to maneuver in. Knuckles quickly jogged over, paused as he came to the pedestal, was jerked out of his musing by Sonic’s jerks and groans as he fought the door, pushed Sonic aside without a word, wrapped both his hands around the handle, and heaved with all his might.

“Yep,” he said with all the calm and peace of mind of a man going to the gallows, “it’s stuck. Probably magic.”

Sonic wasn’t very keen on the idea of being squashed to death, so he was maybe beginning to hyperventilate. He couldn’t really tell because the only sound he could hear was the walls, creeping ever closer. “I thought you said they wouldn’t kill us!”

Knuckles gestured quietly, coolly, to the pedestal, as if he had all the time in the world. Some small part of Sonic’s brain said, Knuckles has lost it. He’s okay with dying; that’s why he’s so calm, and that just jacked his panic up higher. He didn’t wanna be stuck here with someone resigned to death. He needed someone that would fight with him.

He was about to grab Knuckles by the shoulders and shake him, but his friend simply gestured at the pedestal again. “Look, Sonic, calm down and look.”

“What? What am I looking at?!” Sonic whipped around and practically teleported to the pedestal in his agitation. Speed out of control? Not good.

“The walls’re narrowing more up here.” Knuckles’s voice was even, grim, as if the danger of all this had just occurred to him. He pointed at the door, where the walls seemed to be forming into a sort of point, a triangle-like edge that would seal the door off before the rest of the room. “But, I think this thing,” he indicated the pedestal, “will stop them from crushing us completely.”

Sonic tried to take it all in, but he was still too panicked. “So, what? The door will be blocked off but we’ll be fine?”

Knuckles nodded. “If we wanna get the door open, I think this thing has something to do with it.”

“Why aren’t you panicking right now, man?!” Sonic demanded. “We could get stuck here!”

“I am panicking!” Knuckles roared as he slammed his fist on the pedestal. “I’m just trying to stay a little calm because you’re—”

Something shifted on the pedestal, agitated by Knuckles’s anger, and they both went silent as they watched as a few pieces of wood slid down from some hidden compartment, snapped into place in a small square inlaid on the angled part of the table, and they had some sort of pattern on them, almost like... Sonic gasped.

“It’s a slide puzzle!” he cried as he reached toward it. The pieces slid easily under his hands, stuck to the board by some kind of magic. He looked up and his eyes landed right on the door. “It must open the room!”

Knuckles peered over his shoulder. “But what is it? It looks like a bunch of lines and dots.”

He was right. The pieces were nonsense, just a bunch of straight lines connected to bright white spots on a black background. Sonic hummed as he moved them around, trying to get a feel for it. His hands moved quickly, slotting pieces around with the speed that he was known for, and eventually, after about thirty seconds and a few inches from the walls, two pieces lined up and it all made sense.

“It’s the sky!” Sonic cried as his eyes finally made sense of the lines. “Look! It’s constellations!”

“Cool,” Knuckles deadpanned, “hurry up and do it because even if we won’t die if these walls close, it’ll probably be uncomfortable.”

Sonic barely heard him, because he was zeroed in on the puzzle. The pieces were starting to line up in his mind and his eyes hovered over them, trying to create a plan on how to move them without wasting too much time. “Uh huh,” he muttered when Knuckles started to shift and cough nervously.

“Sonic,” Knuckles pressed, “are you listening?”

“Yeah, yeah, let me focus. You figure out how to slow the walls down.”

Knuckles groaned, already exhausted from their little run-in with Angus, and pulled his wand out. “I don’t know if I can do that with magic,” he muttered down at it.

“Well figure it out!” Sonic snapped as he began to move the pieces. “This is gonna take me a while.”

Knuckles didn’t respond, just nodded and looked up, brow furrowed as he zeroed in on the walls. His hands curled into fists. “I got it.”

#1st year #sonic #knuckles #writing #ashe #trials #queue the trumpets

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todordoki · 5 years

Text

kiribaku fic recommendations

favorites

communicate with your body by xX_KUUHAKU_Xx

fluff, heavy angst

warnings: rape/non-con

important tags: merman!kirishima AU, slow burn

"Hey! Wake up you piece of shit! Are you alive?!"

The man winces and scrunches his face in pain but Bakugou continued to hold him in place.

Good, he's alive-

Piercing red eyes flutter open and gaze lazily straight at Bakugou's face and Bakugou feels his heart skip a beat.

Oh, Fuck-

tonight, we’re the sea by idratherhaveyou

fluff, angst

important tags: no quirks!AU, pining, hurt/comfort

Kirishima goes to a quiet seaside town to take care of his grandmother after she has a bad fall. There he meets Bakugou Katsuki and falls in love.

quote love unquote by newamsterdamn

fluff, angst

important tags: celebrity!au, fake/pretend relationship, mutual pining, slow burn

When Kirishima Eijirou's band hits the big time, he's not prepared for his newfound fame. He's even less prepared to meet the actor he's been crushing on for years, or to start dating him as a publicity stunt. The closer Kirishima gets to Bakugou Katsuki, the more he realizes he's in over his head. But it's hard to stop, once his heart is in it.

leaves are falling by Mournful_heart

angst, fluff

important tags: pining, bakugou katsuki swears a lot, future fic, living together

Kirishima loves fall, everything about the season is simply perfect. Working as a hero is hard and dealing with Bakugou as roommate proves to be just as difficult as it is exhilarating. Kirishima likes things the way they are, he doesn't want to ruin anything. Bakugou's parents are coming to visit and suddenly it's not just the leaves that are changing.

heart stains on the carpet by cityboys

angst angst angst angst this made me cry so hard ANGST and fluff

important tags: bodyguard!au, fake/pretend relationship

Summer that year brings Kirishima Eijirou to Katsuki's front door.

heart strings by starofjems

HEAVY ANGSTTT, fluff

important tags: red string of fate, soulmate!au

Red. Red was all Bakugou could see sometimes. His father called this ability to see strings of fate a gift. Bakugou called it curse. He never wanted to be fate's pawn, never wanted to willingly play its games. More than anything, Bakugou had never wanted to know who was at the end of his string.

There was no turning back.

heartworm by clairesail (orphan_account)

warnings: mild sexual content

fluff, angst

important tags: slow burn, pining, manga spoilers

"And Bakugou realizes with jarring discomfort, what this means for him. He's going to be seeing Kirishima a whole lot more. He could walk into his favorite cafe, his favorite curry shop, and see a head of bright red hair. He could be out on patrol and have to compete for dibs on capturing a villain. He could be fighting and have to cooperate with him. And most disconcerting of all he'd have to acknowledge his feelings. Bakugou never really got over him."

Kirishima re-enters Bakugou's life, and he realizes the feelings he had for him in high school are still there.

do sexbots dream... by clairesail

warnings: major character death

fluff, heavy angst, smut

“What do you think?” Bakugou asks, interrupting his thoughts. Kiri looks at him again.

“My eyes are red like yours.”

When roboticist Bakugou Katsuki "accidentally" creates the most advanced AI the world has yet to know, what does he do with it?

Sticks it inside a sexbot, that's what.

of ghosts and other inaccurate things by chezka

angst

important tags: emotional hurt/comfort, ghost!kiri

A week before the sports festival found Bakugou walking back home in the late afternoon, sunset light making his scowl even more menacing and drawing a long shadow right in front of him.

Someone was walking by his side.

There was no second shadow on the floor beside his own to confirm this, but if he kept his focus on the street ahead and carefully avoided trying to look to his left, he could consistently make out black hair swishing in the wind and strong arms leading to hands sunk in pants’ pockets. The edges were blurry, but there was definitely someone at his side.

worst of me by kueb

angst

important tags: college/university!au, implied/referenced underage drinking

When a mistake at a party brings about topics that were never supposed to be discussed.

don’t count on me to let you know when by newamsterdam

angst, smut

important tags: friends with benefits, future fic, canon-typical violence

Kirishima has always made things easy for Bakugou. But that doesn't mean that Bakugou's gotten any better at these things, even after all of these years.

if you love something let it go by Obsessed_As_A_Coping_Mechanism

angst, smut

important tags: alpha/beta/omega dynamics, pining, knotting, aged up

Kirishima is an Omega. Bakugou is Alpha. They have an agreement- No Heat Sex.

Can Kirishima push Katsuki into forgetting the rule?

when we fell by tegan_is_done

heavy angst, smut

warnings: major character death, graphic depictions of violence

important tags: fantasy!au, angels and demons!au, hurt no comfort. unhappy ending

To earn your place as a proper demon and avoid getting thrown into the Empty, you have to lop off an angel's wings and hang them on your wall. It is a way of showing everyone how strong you are, how respected you should be. But what happens when Bakugou Katsuki, who has a month left on his grace period, can't bring himself to cut off an angel's wings?

to hell and back by tegan_is_done

(SEQUEL TO WHEN WE FELL)

heavy angst, smut

warnings: major character death, graphic depictions of violence

important tags: soulmates!au, fantasy!au, angels and demons!au, hurt/comfort, reincarnation

After the death of his lover, Bakugou, Kirishima (AKA the Archangel Gabriel) must learn how to cope with the loss. Back in heaven, things are getting more difficult. Michael will not change his opinion, but even he has to admit that they need to go to war. The second Great War has come to a beginning, but nothing is set in stone, and it is unclear whether or not all of them are going to make it out of this.

smut

you can look but you can’t touch

meet me in the pit

downpour by pandadawg be

pretty boy by babyboykiri

kirishima eijirou’s gym lewds by grimmseye

you can rip out my teeth, but not my heart

can you dirty talk?

just helping

watch the teeth

up in arms

heavy petting by immaeaturyaoi

cooldown by Kenjiandco

hold me til’ i scream for air to breathe callngforheaven

trussed by happythots

showing off by missplacemat

love me, harder kiribaku

mid night snack by anoneesan

how to be a good bro

breaking bad habits by gangstadeku

meet me in the pit by shizuumi151

ask me get anything you want by moment_of_tangency

time shenanigans quirk... again by protectkirishima

needy

trussed

mid night snack

change my mind

if you want it

showing off

showing up

never steal from a king

of studios and school gyms

jackin’ off

time shenanigans quirk... again

assassinate

you look like sin incarnate, baby

angst

neon season

bouquet kupokro

loving him was red red pink_hair_revolution

You’re a beautiful and violent word, the only proper noun I need by Claus_Lucas

Unrequited by ChevaIier

when love is gone by bryan

last christmas by bryan

heartworm

betrayal pictureperfectwatermelon

angst angst angst

i dont know how to apologise by CHER_UBIC

slow it down (go easy on me)

seasons

bleeding petals

unbreakable

out of sight, within reach poteto

and he might yell (they’re in love)

nothing but fucking red

a heart swelled to bursting

but i’ve got an angry heart

2 am knows all secrets (if u dont know this r u even a kiribaku fan???)

ghost beneath ink wash stars

the fool’s rush

will i ever be more than i’ve always been? aloneintherain

fight me rvonello

fluff

(un)tangled

your hand to hold, your heart to keep

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myyeslifeofficial · 4 years

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Imposter Syndrome [Podcast Episode 8]

Episode 8: Imposter Syndrome

If you’ve ever felt like a fraud, like you don’t belong, or aren’t enough…This episode is for you.

I know this pattern well, and I’m sharing what helped me finally kick this awful feeling.

Learn the 4 main reasons it happens and how to ditch it in 3 quick steps.

Full Episode Transcript

Hello, friends, how are you today?

I have missed you, I’ve had some craziness happening for me.

My grandma passed away about a month ago, it’s birthday season around here, my birthday, my husband’s birthday.

So lots of highs and lots of lows.

And I just needed some time to do what I teach my clients to do, to allow and accept all of the big feelings that I was experiencing and to hold space for them and just allow myself to process those.

And I just needed to take some time for myself and, you know, walk in my talk. That how we treat ourselves should be our number one priority.

And emotional wellness, emotional health, feeling our feelings is really the secret to creating massive results and a joyful life. And so I took some time to do that. And I feel all the stronger, more ready, more capable and getting back to it.

So I’m glad to be here to hang out with you today and talk about imposter syndrome.

Maybe you’ve heard of it.

Maybe this is a new concept, a new term… And you’re like “Dee! What the crap is that?!?”

We’re going to get into it.

I think that this is something that most high achievers have experienced.

At least that’s what the research and the data shows.

This is a very common experience that high achieving, successful people have.

And before I found out that it was a thing, I really thought I was broken, that there was something wrong with me, that I was the only one who felt like this.

And so when I learned about imposter syndrome and that it had a name, I actually experienced some relief.

I mean, it didn’t get rid of it, just learning that it was a thing.

But just knowing that I wasn’t the only one who felt this way was so comforting for me. I felt just a little less neurotic in that moment and that I wasn’t broken, you know, as broken as my big, beautiful brain was trying to convince me otherwise.

So what is it? What is imposter syndrome?

The definition is “a collection of feelings of inadequacy that persist despite evident success, impostors suffer from chronic self-doubt and a sense of intellectual fraudulence that override any feelings of success or external proof of their competence.”

I don’t know about you, but does that sound familiar at all?

So it really is this space where our external circumstances do not match our internal space.

I think that we’re pretty aware that there is a disconnect there, but it’s really hard to to get out of that pattern.

And the thoughts are so loud. The inner critic, the itty bitty shitty committee in our brain offers up all these crappy thoughts. For me, they were very, very loud.

So some of the thoughts that you experience with imposter syndrome are:

“I don’t belong here.”

“I’m not blank enough.” So maybe smart enough, talented enough, experienced enough, whatever that blank is for you.

“They’ll realize I’m in over my head.”

“It’s all going to fall apart or be taken away from me.”

“I don’t deserve this.”

“Who am I to think I deserve this?”

“It’s not enough. I need to do more.” Always chasing more.

“I can’t fail.”

“What if I make a mistake?”

“Oh my God. They’re going to find out I made a mistake.”

“What about those mistakes that I made all the way back in third grade? What if they find out?”

“I feel like a fake.”

“I was just lucky right place at the right time.”

“Anyone can do this. It’s not special.”

Have you ever heard that big, beautiful brain of yours offer up any of those garbage thoughts?

Those thoughts create a big mess for us.

They create so much mental chaos, it becomes loud and deafening. And this creates a lot of discomfort and pain.

Some of the effects of imposter syndrome include:

A lack of belief in ourselves or our abilities.

We start to distrust our own knowledge, expertise or authority.

We’ll downplay ourself in current roles and what we put ourselves out there for. You know, we play it safe and try to hide under the radar.

Maybe we don’t ask for more or seek new or bigger challenges.

Often, we spend a lot of time and excessive focus ruminating on our quote unquote failures in the past. As if running those through our heads over and over and over again is going to allow us to change that.

And man, our inner critic, is so very loud and highly judgmental when we are in the throes of impostor syndrome.

It feels a lot like and includes, you know, perfectionistic tendencies.

We fall into perfectionism often when we feel like we’re not good enough or we don’t belong, when we think that we’re going to make a mistake and that everything’s going to fall down around us.

And most people also are experiencing high levels of anxiety, monkey mind, and obsessiveness when this pattern is in effect.

And this is something that I spent, I don’t know, probably all of my 20s experiencing a better part of my early 30s until I really figured it out.

Like I said in the beginning, I didn’t know that it was a thing. I didn’t know it was something that other people struggled with. I didn’t know that there was a name or a label for it. I just thought that there was something wrong with me.

The underlying root of the problem that causes imposter syndrome is a feeling of unworthiness, and it’s really deeply rooted in feelings of inadequacy.

That we’re not good enough, that there’s something wrong with us, that there’s something that needs to be corrected, something that needs to be improved.

And heaven forbid, people find out that we’re not perfect. And that hey might find out just how crazy we are on the inside. Right.

And this is it’s like such a huge, massive craziness because this syndrome – imposter syndrome – is primarily experienced among very high achieving individuals who have created massive amounts of success.

The worst part of imposter syndrome is the cognitive dissonance that we experience between the knowing intellectually that on paper we’re more than qualified, that we’re accomplished, that we’re successful.

But yet we feel completely to the contrary, that it’s never good enough, that it was an accident, it was a fluke, that we just have to do more.

So the problem is not who you are, what you’ve accomplished or what you’re capable of.

The real problem here is how you see yourself. It’s an ownership problem.

It’s an identity and a self concept problem.

Who we think we are – how we see ourselves – has not caught up to the massive results and success and achievement that we have created.

And like I said, every time I started a new degree, I didn’t feel like I was smart enough to be there.

Every time I earned a new degree, even my doctorate, I thought that they’ll find out that I’m not that smart or that I don’t know what I’m talking about, that I’m not really an expert.

You know, when I was hired as a COO of my organization, sitting in the boardroom in my late 20s, I looked around and thought like I didn’t belong. They all think I’m too young, that I don’t know what I’m talking about. I wasn’t going to last.

Even when I started my coaching practice, even though I had worked as a coach, for an organization for five and a half years and had nearly 10000 hours of one on one coaching experience under my belt, I still felt like an imposter going out there and selling my services.

It’s crazy, right? Like it doesn’t make sense.

The internal experience doesn’t match the external achievements and skills and abilities and capabilities that you bring to the table.

So here are the four main reasons that imposter syndrome happens.

Number one is seeing success as ordinary, that it’s not a big deal. Everyone does this.

A really good example is earning a college degree. For an undergraduate degree. Only about 30 percent of Americans have one. But the belief that everyone has one makes it so that we feel like it’s not a big deal and it takes away from the significance of the achievement. But really, only a third of Americans, eligible Americans, hold an undergraduate degree and even less when you’ve got a master’s and a doctorate.

What success have you created in your life that you’re seeing as not a big deal, that you’re not celebrating, that you’re thinking is ordinary? That’s something that everyone does.

This second reason this happens is because of lack of celebration.

You haven’t slowed down long enough to celebrate each achievement that you have created, each success that you’ve had.

Often, you know, we’re working on these long term goals for so long that by the time it happens, we’re already on to the next conquest.

Our brain is already thinking about the next thing that we want to achieve. And we haven’t taken ownership of the success that we created right there in that moment.

The third reason is because we see success as an event. It’s something that happens rather than evidence of who you have become in the process to achieve that thing.

It’s this belief that “success happened to me” rather than “I am a successful person.”

And the fourth reason it happens is because we see our identity as static or fixed. That our personality, who we are, what we’re capable of, is unchanging.

Rather than it being something that is dynamic and that evolves with us as we grow, as we do new things, as we stretch ourselves to become a stronger, more capable version of ourselves.

So real quick, again, the four reasons that we experience imposter syndrome the most is: (1) seeing our success as ordinary or not a big deal; (2) not celebrating our success; (3) seeing success as an event rather than evidence of who we are; (4) and believing that our identity is fixed, not updating our self concept as we have created more success in our life, in our career.

So you’re probably wondering how to stop feeling like a fraud.

How do we ditch this imposter syndrome?

The first thing is to update your identity or your self concept.

You probably still see yourself as the person you were before you achieved all of the great things that you have achieved.

Do this exercise my coach had me do this, and it blew me away. And it was really uncomfortable when I did it. I’m not going to lie – like I felt actually pretty sick to my stomach putting all of this on paper.

But it really helped me to see myself differently and to stop feeling like such an imposter, such a fraud.

And so the exercise is: “I am the woman who…”

Put that on the top of a paper.

And then under that, I want you to list all of your previous accomplishments and successes and own them.

I am the woman who created this result. And celebrate each one.

List, all of your strengths that you’ve gained from the journey. It’s not just the achievement, but it’s who you have become along the way.

Is it your perseverance? Is it your tenacity? Is it your grit? Is it your intelligence?

All of these things we develop as we are on the journey to the accomplishment.

List, who you’ve become from your successes and to reflect on who you’ve become and take ownership of this new identity.

You are this person.

You have created all of this good. It didn’t happen to you.

It happened because you showed up and created that result.

So own it, my friend. Own it, celebrate it.

Give yourself a big, huge high five, pat on the back. Do a happy dance.

Own that shit.

All right.

The next thing that you can do to stop feeling like a fraud, moving forward – to make sure that this isn’t a pattern that continues to repeat itself – is to slow down and celebrate each new success that you have, to wire it into being, before moving on to the next thing.

Each time something good happens to you, no matter how small it is, celebrate it, own it, own how you’ve grown into a stronger, more capable version of yourself.

Own how you created that result that it didn’t just happen to you.

And then the third step to stop feeling like such a fraud is to change your story about failure.

I’ve talked about failure here before and it’s something I want to talk about a lot, because when we’re aiming for big, huge results and massive success, we’re going to fail a lot.

Failure is the currency for success.

We just need to tell different stories about quote unquote failure.

You are not a failure and you can never be a failure.

Failure is not a personal characteristic.

Failure. It’s failed attempts.

And so your success is built upon the failed attempts that you experience along the way.

Failed attempts are how we learn and grow. So you could never be a failure.

And the things that happened in the past, the lack of the result, the mistakes that you’ve made, the things that you ruminate over and lose sleep about, and that big, beautiful brain wakes you up at three o’clock in the morning to remind you the thing that you did in third grade.

Been there, done that. I see you.

Like that shit doesn’t matter.

It’s not a failure. It’s part of who you are.

It helped you become who you are now and it’s helped shape you into the person that you’ve become.

And that’s the same thing with failed attempt.

Like they’re opportunities to learn, to grow, to become stronger versions of ourself.

You know, just make sure that you are taking the failed attempt as an opportunity to learn the lesson.

And that’s how it has value and how we move forward from that.

Don’t have a failed attempt and just quit or throw in the towel, then it really is holding you back and keeping you stuck.

Imposter syndrome is just a collection of thought errors.

It’s not who you are.

You are not broken. You are not inadequate. You are not unworthy.

Your worthiness is inherent.

You are one hundred percent worthy exactly as you are right now in this moment without changing anything.

And you never have to change anything about yourself to be worthy. Because you just are.

Because you are a child of God, you are here on this planet, you are of maximum worth.

Start owning how damn fabulous you are, start owning the greatness that you have created, your list of achievements.

All of the amazing things that you have created.

All of the personality characteristics, the strengths that you have developed along the way.

And celebrate it.

You deserve to be celebrated.

Doesn’t matter how big or small.

Everything that you create, everything that you’re able to live through, everything you’re able to survive deserves a celebration.

So that, my friends, is a little bit about imposter syndrome and how to change those thoughts in your big, beautiful brain so that the achievements that you have on the outside start to match how you think and feel about yourself on the inside.

You do not need to go achieve more on the outside to fix this problem.

You never do.

You never had to.

I know I kept chasing achievements, trying to fix the inside problem, but it was once I finally slowed down and did this work to change my self concept, to see myself differently, to think different thoughts about who I am and what I’ve accomplished, then I stopped feeling like a fraud.

So you’ll never solve an internal problem with an external solution.

And this one is worth slowing down and doing the work over.

Because I know how crappy it feels to show up in life, feeling like you don’t belong, that you’re not good enough and someone’s going to figure that out.

It’s a really crappy way to exist.

And so please, please, please, like sit down with a journal and do that work.

Own your accomplishments and how amazing you are.

I hope that this helps.

Leave me a comment, a review.

If you want some more help with this, join me in my Facebook group.

We are diving deep next week and there will be a free live coaching session on Thursday.

So if you would like some more help with imposter syndrome, I would love to help you with that and give you a little bit of free coaching on it.

If you are listening to this episode much in the future after this has already happened, these live coaching sessions will be in the archives.

So you can get those to go to www.myyeslife.com/live for information on the live coaching session, and the archive, and how to join the group.

That is it.

That’s all I got for you, my friends.

Have a beautiful day.

Ciao ciao.

The post Imposter Syndrome [Podcast Episode 8] appeared first on results based life coaching for mindset, accountability, habit upgrades.

from results based life coaching for mindset, accountability, habit upgrades https://myyeslife.com/imposter-syndrome-podcast8/

#results based life coaching for mindset #accountability #habit upgrades

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