#i am sorry not sorry that this is the garbage whirlwind with which i am introducing myself | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bluejay-writes · 4 months

Text

Heaven is a Misnomer - Chapter 6

Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me! Rating: Teen Chapter 6 Wordcount: 3115 Characters/Relationships: Jake (Exchange student OC) / Raphael Summary: Jake comes into conflict with an angel. Gets help from an unexpected source, but the conflict continues when he gets 'home'. Chapter Warnings: Bullying, Abuse of Authority, Panic Attacks

You can also read this on AO3, if that's your jam!

First Chapter || Prev Chapter || Next Chapter

Chapter 6 - Conflict

At the end of his first class, Jake stretched, glancing back at the pages and pages of notes he took. He was going to need multiple notebooks for this class, he just knew it. Which was fine, honestly. He’d rather be learning a lot about a topic he was ignorant in, even if disinterested, than be bored to tears in a standard high school class. Honestly, he thought this was probably what college would be like, so he was taking it seriously.

Looking back at his things, he checked the schedule that he’d taped to the front cover of his planner. His next class is in this same room, but he needs to choose a seat that’s closer to the front. He couldn’t always read the board, and he was damned if he was going to need glasses just to exist in the Celestial Realm.

As he moved past the crowds of students who were leaving the classroom to head elsewhere, he bumped into one of them. Or they bumped into him. He would never be sure which. The angel in question looked angry, and turned on their heel to pin him with a glare.

“Watch where you’re going, mortal.”

Jake blinked. He knew immediately that this was a garbage bullying situation. He’d been a bystander to all of Nia’s issues at school, and he could practically smell a bully from a mile away. “Oh, I am so sorry! I thought I was being careful, but I clearly wasn’t careful enough. It won’t happen again.”

“Are you mocking me?” The angel said, and between one blink and the next Jake went from looking at a generally average looking guy to looking at a very tall, very winged, four-faced being. Maybe there was some merit to be not afraid and he should stop making fun of it.

“Absolutely not.” Jake said, seriously, taking a deep breath to try and calm himself down. “I simply wasn’t watching where I was going. It’s my first time here, and I’m very distracted.”

“You’re going to be very something if you don’t start treating me with the proper respect.” The angel said, his voice even louder in this form.

Jake winced, and looked away. This was not how he expected his first day to go.

“That’s absolutely enough, Ophaniel.” A voice said from behind Jake, and he turned to see Azrael, still in her ‘normal’ guise, but looking so angry she was just as frightening to Jake as the angel in front of him, apparently named Ophaniel.

The angel in question suddenly popped back into their standard form, eyes wide, but lips sneering.

“Oh, I see. Poor mortal. Caught Azrael’s attention? Your days are already numbered, I don’t need to waste my time on you.”

They turned to leave, and then called out one final remark; “Thanks for the assist, Azrael.”

Jake turned to Azrael who didn’t look any less angry. Was she mad at him? Was he the actual problem here?

Azrael took hold of the hem of his shirt like he was an errant toddler in need of handling, and hauled him and his armload of things over to a seat, and settled him into it.

“Clearly you’re not capable of keeping yourself out of trouble, so let me do you a favor and have you sit with me.” She settled him and then snagged his planner off the top of his stack, looking over his schedule with a close eye. “We have all but one class together, so you should be covered from here out.”

Jake just blinked at the whirlwind that was Azrael. “Uh. Thank you? And I’m sorry.”

Her sharp eyes turned on him, and then suddenly softened. “Why are you sorry?”

“Well, I mean, you had to protect me, and you don’t like humans, and now you’re putting me next to you in class, and… you’re mad at me.”

“Mad at you? What would give you that idea?”

“You’re mad. And the angel who got all big thought I was in trouble with you, so…”

Azrael sighed, and shook her head. “Mortals. I forget you look grown long before you are. Jake, I’m not angry with you. I’m angry with that idiot for letting his bias show and making the Celestial Realm look bad on your very first day.”

“Oh.” Jake said quietly, feeling his throat tighten. No, Jake. No crying. Admonishing himself was unlikely to help. He wasn’t very good at dealing with people yelling around him. Nia was good at dealing with the angry ones. Even his mom was better at dealing with them than he was. He just curled up into a little ball and let it pass. If it passed.

Azrael sat back in her chair and didn’t say anything. Whatever her intent, it gave Jake some time to get ahold of what was going on in his head. When he managed to shake off the stillness that had overtaken him, he turned to look at Azrael again.

“Thank you for having my back.” He said quietly. “Sorry about all this.”

“No need to apologize. You’re a good kid. I don’t mind playing babysitter.”

Jake laughed ruefully. “You look like you’re my age. It’s weird to think about you being old enough to casually call me ‘kid’.”

Azrael smirked. “I’m old enough to call your great grandparents ‘kid’.”

Jake nodded. “That tracks. The angel of Death has been around a bit.”

Azrael chuckled. “Yeah, a bit.”

“Hopefully I don’t need a babysitter too long.”

“Well, you’ve got one anytime we’re in class. Except Gym class. You’ve got that one with Raphael though, so I’m not worried.”

“Yeah I was going to ask about that. Gym Class… seems…”

“All angels are expected to be a certain level of physically active and fit. For those of us with wings it is often used as flying practice, but as you’re a wingless type, it’ll probably be running.”

“Ew.”

“Agreed. I got an exemption so I don’t need to take it.”

“I wonder if they’d waive it if I told them I already completed my P.E. credits back in high school.”

Azrael paused as if in thought, and Jake waited while she found the words for what she wanted to say.

“Unlikely.” She said, “But you could always ask Michael. I’d normally say it couldn’t hurt to ask, but I never know what’s likely to set him off these days.”

Jake huffed out a breath. Michael seemed like a problem. Before he could respond to Azrael again, class started, and his mind was lost to taking notes once again.

Lunch came, and Azrael showed him the way to the lunchroom. Shiny, Aya, and Bunny were all waiting for him at the doorway, and after a bit they all settled at a table with their lunches, to chatter and eat food during their break.

Jake didn’t even consider the fact that Azrael was still stuck to him like glue until Shiny raised an eyebrow as she settled into the chair next to him at their table.

“Jake, who’s your shadow?”

Azrael scoffed, but let him answer the question on his own, which he appreciated.

“Oh! Shiny, Aya, Bunny, this is Az! Erm, Azrael. Sorry.”

Azrael just smirked.

“Oh. Azrael. I. Uh.” Shiny looked awkward, and Jake remembered Azrael’s comment about her the first time they met.

“Shiny, Azrael’s cool. She won’t bite, I swear.”

Shiny blushed bright red and muttered something under her breath, and suddenly Jake was sure that Shiny’s avoidance of the angel wasn’t about what Azrael knew or didn’t know about life and death but instead was more about the angel herself.

“Aw!” Aya said with a smirk and a wink. “But biting’s the fun part!”

Trust a demon to break the tension, Jake thought as he laughed.

“Anyway,” Jake said between bites of his sandwich, “Azrael and I have almost all of our classes together, so we’re hanging out. She’s promised not to let me fail any tests.”

“No, I promised you wouldn’t fail any. It’s not up to me, it’s up to your brain.”

That made everyone laugh, and Shiny finally seemed to get over whatever weird blushing mess she’d turned herself into. Jake couldn’t wait to ask her more about that later. Lunch devolved into chatter about classes and angels, and the same normal kind of gossip and shenanigans that Jake had loved from his usual school life. It was admittedly weird to be having a lunchroom lunch instead of having his half-hour of therapy every day. He wasn’t sure he wouldn’t rather have had the therapy still. Not that lunch was bad, but his new school was an entire time.

“Azrael.” Shiny said, “Why did you ask Jake if he had signed a covenant with Michael yet?”

“Not signed with. Made with.” Azrael said sharply.

“Jake can’t. He’s completely normal.”

“I know that now.” Azrael muttered.

“Wait, what’s the difference?” Jake asked, confused.

“The wording implies who is bound by the covenant, and who benefits from that binding.” Azrael said. “In this case, you are incapable of making a covenant because you have no magic to bind you to your word.”

“Oh.” Jake said, suddenly wondering even more about why Michael would want to make a covenant with him.

“Yep.” Azrael said, just as forthcoming with her words as usual.

As though summoned, the bell rang, shrill and irritating, sending the lot of them scrambling to get back to class.

Jake is still on cooking duty for dinner that night, but to his great joy, it just amounts to the same kinds and amounts of work as breakfast; Gabriel gave him vegetables and fruits and the like to chop up, and had him set the table.

As usual, Michael was joining their dorm for dinner, and Jake found it hard to eat the food on his plate, even though he’d helped prepare it. He knew it was good for him. He even knew it was delicious, because Gabriel had convinced him to taste things as they went and give opinions. But something about having Michael staring down the table made eating food seem like the worst idea. His stomach was in knots.

“Tonight is the first of our evening seminars that we’ll be holding. The topic will be a high-level overview of Celestial Realm History, etiquette, and other important topics for those of you who are new.”

Jake winced. Evening seminar. This implied it would take up his entire evening. At least he didn’t have a lot of homework yet?

As if he’d been waiting for some kind of complaint, Michael speared him with a glance. “These seminars are of course optional, and a lack of attendance will not directly hurt your grades here, however you will likely miss important information that will make your time here harder than it needs to be. I can’t recommend strongly enough that you all attend. It would be a good refresher for the rest of the dorm as well.”

Oh. Okay. Optional. Like Mrs. Frank’s extra credit. Sure, it wouldn’t directly affect your grade if you didn’t do it, but if everyone else did it and you didn’t, the curve would make it affect your grade regardless. He had a feeling that while it wouldn’t have a direct effect on his marks to miss the evening seminar, Michael would make it affect him in some way or another. Great. Great. The more he learned about this Head Angel in Charge the more he disliked the man with every fiber of his being.

“Ah, and Jacob.” Michael said, pinning him with a look. “I’d like to see you in my office after dinner, please.”

Jake started to open his mouth to once again correct Michael about his name. Again. He was interrupted by Feniel across the table.

“Excuse me, Michael. Weren’t we supposed to talk about…”

Jake didn’t get to hear the rest of Feniel’s sentence, as next to him Azrael hissed in his ear. “Stop fighting him in public, Jake. Don’t give him reason to find a way into binding you.”

Jake wanted to argue. He hated when people used his full name more than almost anything, because the only one who did was his dad. But the look in Azrael’s eyes, that slight panic she was trying desperately to hide, convinced him otherwise. Before he could respond, of course, Michael had already turned his attention back to him.

“Alright, Jacob, fifteen minutes after dinner?”

Jake just nodded. “See you then.” He could practically feel Azrael relax next to him. What in the world did Michael do to engender that kind of panic in the angel of death of all people? He was worried.

Even though dishes weren’t his chore of the day, Jake helped get the table cleared after dinner so that he wouldn’t have to just go back to his room for a couple minutes before going to talk to Michael. And because it was his only chance to try and get some more information out of Azrael about what she’d said at dinner.

“Azrael.” he said, catching her attention before she got to the actual washing of the dishes. “Got a minute?”

“Just one.” She said tersely. She clearly knew what he wanted to ask and didn’t really want to talk about it.

“What did you mean about binding?”

“That’s what the covenants do. Bind you to someone.”

“But I don’t have any magic. He can’t.”

“If you keep pushing, he’ll find a way.”

Jake blinked, a cold chill creeping down his spine. “Oh.”

“So please. Do us both a favor and just… fly under his radar a bit, okay?”

Jake nodded, needing no further push in that direction. His dad already had a vice grip on his life, he didn’t need a garbage celestial dad with a magical vice grip, thanks.

Jake passed Feniel in the hallway, and they shared an awkward smile. He knew full well the Angel had probably gotten a talking to for interrupting Michael at dinner, but he seemed pretty okay, all told. He did have something he needed to talk to Michael about, so it was probably fine. Jake couldn’t just go assuming that Michael was going to be garbage just because the angel reminded him of his dad.

Of course, the minute he saw Michael’s ‘office’, all charitable thought went out the window. It was creepy. It was a small room, separated from the basement lecture hall by a cutout wood panel wall. Not a true wall at all, just a pretend wall. It wouldn’t keep light or sound in or out, so only gave the thinnest veneer of privacy. Add to that the presence of a bed in the corner, and Jake was more than a little creeped out.

Michael looked up as he entered, giving him a moment to take in the space completely before speaking.

“So, Jacob. I heard you had an altercation with an angel during passing time today.”

Jake nodded. This was true.

“Tell me what happened.”

“It was between classes, I was moving up closer to the front of the classroom, since I had an issue hearing my first teacher and didn’t want the same problem for my second class. I was distracted thinking about what we covered in my first class, and ran into him. I apologized, but he was—”

“That’s absolutely enough. Ophaniel came to me this afternoon in tears. Clearly your apology wasn’t sincere.”

“Wait, in tears? That’s not right.” Jake said, immediately feeling the need to defend himself. “He got very angry with me and got so much bigger than he was before. Azrael—”

“Oh, I know this part.” Michael said, with a bitterness to his tone. “It’s not right that you should be relying on your status as an exchange student to get you out of situations where words would suit. He told me that Azrael set you straight, so I’ll forego any punishment, this time.”

Jake just blinked at him. What? That angry so-and-so in tears? He’d been about to be paste on the classroom floor until Azrael stepped in. And Azrael was the one that set him straight, and not Ophaniel?

“Punishment. For being attacked? I never once said anything but an apology to the angel in question, Michael.”

“You’re kidding, right Jacob? This whole thing is a joke, haha, joke’s on Michael. ‘I didn’t harass the angel, he harassed me!’ As though I’m meant to take your word over someone with whom I have a covenant?”

Jake felt himself freeze, fear running through his veins like ice. Azrael’s words came back to him then, and he definitely regretted talking back to Michael even the tiniest bit. He knew that his mother wasn’t here to get him out of this confrontation, and it was going to take everything he had to get out of this in one piece.

“I will be more careful in the future.” he said, keeping his eyes on the desk in front of the angel. Maybe looking passive was the way through this. His mother always admonished him to pick his battles. Maybe it was time he learned that lesson. This wasn’t one she could fight for him, after all. He really hoped she was alright.

“I don’t believe you.” Michael said sharply. “Look me in the eye and swear that from this point on you’ll behave while you’re here, Jacob.”

Jake swallowed his retort, and nodded, looking up to meet Michael’s eye. He knew he was probably even paler than usual, and he could feel the soft tremors starting in his fingers. He needed to end this conversation and get out of here before it got out of hand.

“I will be on my best behavior while I am here in the Celestial Realm.” He said, and if he was proud that his voice didn’t shake, he was also relieved that pride didn’t bleed into his tone. “I promised my mother, and I make the same promise to you.”

Michael nodded, and dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “See that you do.”

Jake took the dismissal and all but bolted out of the office. He needed to get back to his room, and fast. As he left he passed Raphael standing near Michael’s door, and wondered how much the Angel of Discipline had heard. Had he been there in case Jake made a scene? In case Michael decided he required some discipline? Did he require discipline? He certainly hoped not. Raphael nodded to him, though, and didn’t move. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Jake knew he should be proud that Raphael even acknowledged him, but mostly he was terrified.

#omswd #obey me!#obey me raphael #obey me michael #raphael x oc #longfic #fic update #OM Raphael #OM Celestial Realm #Bullying #abuse of authority #panic attack

5 notes · View notes

five-rivers · 3 years

Text

While You Still Can

For Ectober Day 2: Scream

Warnings: Accidental self-injury, repeated injury, minor blood, muteness.

The first time Danny got laryngitis was the day after returning from the bad future. He’d been a bit of a baby about it, too, because not being able to communicate effectively while already feeling like garbage and being depressed wasn’t great. Jazz had been very understanding about it all.

He got it again the next time he used the Ghostly Wail, and resigned himself to the inconvenient side effect. The Wail was sort of a last resort power to begin with, since it drained so much of his energy and left him vulnerable. He hoped that with time and practice it would get better.

He hoped in vain.

The day after Tucker's resignation from the student body presidential race, Danny, Sam, and Tucker splayed, exhausted and still slightly sandy, in Sam's basement. They'd settled on watching a nature documentary at some point, although none of them were really paying attention to it.

Tucker sighed heavily and readjusted himself so that his legs hung over the arm of the loveseat he’d commandeered. “So, I’m tied with Danny for most frequently possessed,” said Tucker.

“Seems like it,” said Sam, lazily twitching her foot to kick Tucker’s. “Unless mind control doesn’t count as being possessed.”

“Ugh. I hate this. Do you think we should try to practice throwing off overshadowing again? I hate that, too.”

“Dunno. Danny, do you think that would do any good?”

Danny, because he had the attention span of a caffeinated squirrel, tried to answer verbally. This was painful and did not work well.

The sound from the documentary briefly dissolved into something that wasn’t quite static. All three teens sat up, straight and wary of any ghostly intruders.

Danny’s ghost sense did not go off. Danny, who hadn’t been looking forward to how his ghost sense would feel against his abused throat, sighed in relief.

“Wait,” said Sam, “the static- Danny, was that you?”

Danny shrugged. If it was, it wasn’t on purpose.

“Maybe… Can you try to talk again?”

That would hurt. He made a face.

“I know,” said Sam. “But if it was you, don’t you want to know?”

“Could be the start of a new ghost power,” said Tucker, lying back down.

Danny rolled his eyes, but once again tried to speak. Once again, the sound of the documentary cut out, replaced by something else. Something that wasn’t words, but also wasn’t just random noise.

“Weird,” said Tucker. “So. New power, I guess. Do you think you’ll be able to do that without your voice gone?”

Danny shrugged. It wasn’t like these things came with a guidebook. Also, this didn’t seem particularly useful for anything except getting his friends’ attention when he was temporarily mute.

“I wonder if it works on recordings,” mused Tucker. “It’d be useful for making sure no one catches you transforming on film.”

Ah. That was true.

“We’d have to test it,” said Sam.

Danny dropped back onto the floor. He didn’t want to do anything today.

“Later?” suggested Sam. “Maybe once your voice is back?”

Danny gave her a thumbs up.

Danny’s voice came back the next day, as usual. Trying to mess with audio electronics had no effect, so they sort of forgot about it and ignored it. It wasn’t important.

They didn’t think it was important.

Danny kept using his Ghostly Wail as a trump card. His voice always took a vacation afterwards, but never for too long. Never long enough for Danny to worry. His parents were making noises about bringing Danny to the doctor, maybe a throat specialist. But they were ridiculously easy to distract.

Everything was normal. Everything was fine.

Until Technus came by with a massive upgrade, courtesy of Vlad, Danny suspected, and Danny had to use his wail twice in a row.

He managed to cap the thermos before he doubled over, coughing. Blood speckled the asphalt below him. Which was disturbing for a number of reasons, not least of which being that he was in ghost form, and shouldn’t be bleeding red at all.

He heard a gasp, and twisted in a way that probably would have broken a normal, human spine.

Sam and Tucker were looking at him with a great deal of consternation and worry.

“Dude…” said Tucker, softly.

Danny winced, and his rings flickered.

“Don’t do that now,” said Sam, scoldingly. “Shoot. We need to get you to Frostbite or something. That’s- Oh my gosh. Frick.”

Danny grimaced. They’d seen him more beaten up, but this amount of blood from the mouth probably was a more disturbing image than bruises and random cuts.

His rings flickered again.

Tucker swallowed hard. “We’ve gotta… Um. Somewhere to transform. Yeah.”

“Alley,” said Sam, pushing.

Danny let go of his transformation as soon as he was out of sight, and leaned against Tucker. He was so incredibly tired. He coughed, lightly, and more blood dribbled from his mouth.

“Oh, gross,” complained Tucker. “Are you, ah, jeeze, you’re not okay.”

No joke.

“Frostbite,” said Sam. “Danny, you up to- What am I saying, of course you’re not. Tucker, you’re going to have to drive.”

“Uh,” started Tucker.

“Since I’m going to be dealing with first aid stuff.”

“Oh. Okay, yeah, I can drive.”

Danny wheezed as Tucker made another wrong turn and almost plowed them into a half-melted wall. Sure, the Speeder could phase through just about anything here, but that ‘just about’ was a significant concern.

Plus, going too far that way would put a lot of extra time on their journey. Like. A lot. Some kind of fourth spacial dimension nonsense.

“Sorry!” said Tucker. “Did your parents update the controls or something?”

They had, but Danny couldn’t exactly explain how at the moment. He shrugged.

Eventually, they did arrive at the Far Frozen. The yetis took one look at Danny’s pale face and the blood dripping down his chin and rushed him away to their hospital. Frostbite arrived, and the next hour or so was a whirlwind of tests and scans, particularly of his neck and throat.

They… looked worried. Which made Danny worried.

They gave him good painkillers, though, and lying on the ice bed did wonders for his tension.

Frostbite came back. “Great One,” said Frostbite. He settled himself, fur shifting. “Your Wail is an amazing power. From our scans of your core, it looks like you are also going to develop other vocal powers.” He paused. The silence stretched long and deep. Normally, Danny would have tried to fill it. “But,” said Frostbite, finally, “those powers are not compatible with your human vocal cords. Using them damages your human vocal cords.”

Danny nodded.

“Your ghost half will replace them,” said Frostbite, “but they… they would not be at all the same.”

Danny tilted his head.

“You are probably confused, because you speak in your ghost form, but the structures are very different. You… You would be unlikely to be able to communicate in a way humans would understand, without significant practice. Not while you were in your human form.”

That… didn’t make sense. He communicated with people now. Frostbite and the other ghosts communicated just fine.

“It’s just the type of ghost you are,” said Frostbite. “You are… powerful, Great One, bound to a powerful and painful path. I am sorry for that.”

There was something so pained and apologetic in Frostbite’s tone that Danny started shaking his head. He hardly knew what he was saying, and he still couldn’t help but reject it.

“I am sorry, Great One,” said Frostbite, “but if you keep using your Ghostly Wail, your human half will become mute.”

Frostbite knew, then, just like Danny knew. Danny wouldn’t be able to stop using his wail. Not while people were in danger. He couldn’t abandon people he could save.

Tears collected in the corners of his eyes.

It made him want to scream.

(While he still could.)

#danny phantom #ectoberhaunt trick #ectoberhaunt 2021 #ectober 2021 #ectober #fic #fanfic #ectober day 2: scream

369 notes · View notes

bizarre-alien · 3 years

Text

Saturday Morning

I made a short Erasermic fic on Saturday, and I just wanted to post this here because why not! It takes place when they were in their 20s, and Shota is gonna do something bold after a night of clubbing with Hizashi which, apparently, didn't turn out so well!

Saturday mornings were hard sometimes. Waking up hungover while my brain tries to recollect memories of last night only makes me numb with this dull melancholic ache in my chest. I stretched out my limbs across my bed to find that I was all alone. “Shocker.” I thought to myself sarcastically. I slowly turned my body over to get my phone that was on my nightstand. To my surprise, it was hooked up and charged. “No, I was too drunk to do something this responsible.” I mumbled as I unplugged it. There were some unread messages from Yamada, and it brought this warm feeling inside that my heart seemed to crave.

“Last night was WILD! Please text me when you wake up. I need to know you lived! 😭”

“I did lay you on your side with a bucket, pukey! 🤣”

“OMG ARE YOU ALIVE?? I MISS MY BEST FRIEND!”

“I should’ve just crashed on your couch instead of taking the cab back to my place… Could’ve saved myself from stress and money… LMAOOO”

“SHOOOOOOTAAAAAAAA”

I couldn’t help but to laugh at his sweet attentiveness. He never failed to put a smile on my face even if he wasn’t around. I took a selfie and sent it to him. “I lived, bitch. 😤”

I felt my stomach shock from anticipation as I saw the ellipsis pop up. “YOU LOOK GOOD FOR A DEAD BITCH!!” The ellipsis came up again. “Also, you looked cuter than me in the shirt I let you wear. If you wanna keep it, you deserve it! I have your shirt, and it’s nice and clean! I think I’ll wear it today!”

I couldn’t help but to blush at his remark. “It’s mine now. I’ll take good care of it.” I looked down to see which shirt it was, and I gasped. It was an exclusive shirt from one of his favorite bands that he got at a live show. The exact one that he said he wanted to be buried in. “WAIT ARE YOU SURE BC I JUST SAW WHICH ONE IT WAS”

“It’s okay!! I’d rather see you wear it instead. 💖”

“... That’s very sweet…”

“How do I look? I’m going for that Shota Aizawa look. Don’t mind my lack of pants, please. 🥰🤣” His selfie nearly made me drown in affection. He looks so good in my shirt… And his legs...

“*Chef’s kiss* You rn…” Were we flirting, right now?? No. He has someone, right? “Wait… Are you flirting with me to make your so jealous? What did he do wrong, now? 🥴” The ellipsis came up, but went away… Then again… Then nothing. I began to worry. “Zashi, I’m playing. You know that, right?” The other end was radio silent, and I felt anxiety surge through me. Was it a sore topic and I didn’t know? Did I just ruin our friendship? I mean, how would that screw everything up? After all we’ve been through for the past 7 years, that couldn’t have been the final straw… right? I was pulled from my overthinking by my phone vibrating. It was Zashi calling, and I picked it up immediately. “Was that a bad thing to say? Because I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt-!”

“It’s okay, Sho!” He chuckled reassuringly to me, but I could hear the pain in his voice. “I forgot that you black out when you’re drunk… No, me and him are done. You broke his nose when I came to you crying about it. We had to leave the club because of all the drama, but no one knew who we were… Thank God, right?”

“Yeah…” I was silent for a moment as I tried to remember what happened.

“Sho! We’re leaving. Come on!” Hizashi roared as he made his way to me.

“Hold, hold, hold. What happened?” I stopped him in his tracks and grabbed his arms. “Zashi, are you okay? Where’s-?”

“Who cares? I hate him! Let’s go!”

“But you left me to blow him in the bathroom! What do you mean you hate him, now-?”

“I wish I didn’t, and I’m so sorry! He’s a monster in disguise, but I was too stupid to notice AGAIN!!” Zashi burst into tears as he held onto me tightly. We stumbled a bit, but I held him back with all I had. I feared that this was gonna happen.

“I knew there was a reason why I couldn’t stand him.”

“Baby, you got it all wrong! I love you, Hizashi! I wanna marry you!” I heard the voice of Zashi’s former lover, and the alcohol in me decided to take control of my body.

“You take another step, and you’ll regret it! Don’t think I won’t have you on the ground, you piece of garbage!”

“Sho, let’s just get out of here! I gotta go!” Hizashi pushed me towards the exit. “It’s not worth it!”

“Hizashi!” The moment he grabbed Hizashi’s arm, I went feral.

I dug my nails into his wrist to get him to let go of my best friend. “Piss off!” I roared as I got Hizashi behind me. Before I could register anything, I felt my right fist connect with his nose hard enough that it sent a shock up to my shoulder. “I knew you were trash the moment I laid eyes on you! You don’t deserve Zashi!” I wanted to go for more, but I felt a multitude of hands grasp at me and pull me towards the exit. I managed to spit on Zashi’s ex before we were escorted out of the club.

“Oh my God, Shota! That was intense!” Hizashi grabbed my shoulders and shook me. His makeup was smeared from his tears, but it made him look like an ethereal being. “You good?”

“Mmh.”

“I can’t believe you did that for me! You’re so sweet! Oh my gosh, like you- Oh, God!” He backed up as he looked at me again. “Alleyway. Alleyway!” He guided us to the alleyway and held my hair the moment I let everything out. “Oh, God. It’s on your shirt. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!” When I spat out the remains, he gently took off my soiled shirt. “You are so lucky that I have on something sexy underneath this tee! I guess this may be a sign to dress sexy for myself instead of waiting for someone to see it in private, huh?” He pulled off his band tee and handed it to me with a smile. He had on a fishnet long sleeve bodysuit with nipple coverings, and he looked like the biggest rockstar in that moment… but, that was my best friend… My best friend is the biggest rockstar and he’s holding my gross shirt.

“You’re so freaking nice, Zashi!” I began to tear up as I put on the shirt. “I’m so sorry!”

“I should be sorry! I didn’t listen to you. I just listened to his dick!” We laughed like a couple of hyenas as we took our drunken selves to our favorite place to eat when we drank our weight in booze.

“Zashi." I sighed and shook my head. "I’m so sorry."

“Thanks. It hurts, you know? He wasn’t who I thought he was. I guess… I don’t know how to pick ‘em, huh?” He tried to laugh, but he went quiet.

Never in my life did I want to reach out to him through the phone and hug him as much as I do now, but all I could do was hug him with my words. “You have a big heart and a warm presence that deserves to be honored and cherished, and he just didn’t get it. If I had the chance, I’d punch him again. You deserve so much better, and you will get that.”

“When, Shota?” There was a pause.

“When the time and place is right.” I wanted to say right now and with me, but I chickened out. “That person will love you and nurture your heart, and that person will be the most lucky human in all existence and memory.”

“I wish it were-” He paused and sighed. “I wish it happened now.”

I felt my heart jump and my mind started to race. Did he want me? Should I risk it all? Were we both too afraid of screwing up our friendship? “Hizashi…”

“Hey, do you mind if we meet up somewhere? Your place, my place, a restaurant… Anywhere, honestly! I just need to see you. Sorry if that sounds clingy. I just-”

“Of course! I would love to meet up. You’re going through a tough situation, and I’m more than happy to be there for you.” I smiled. “You can come over to my place and we can decide if we wanna go out or not.”

“That sounds good. I’ll get coffee on the way, okay? I know you need it.” He chuckled.

“You’re the best.” I sighed in relief. “I think coffee would solve a lot of problems, right now.”

“Hey, Shota?”

“Yeah?”

“I want you to know how much I value our friendship. We had rocky moments, but there isn’t a day that I’m not grateful that we smoothed things out. I can freely be myself around you, and that’s really rare nowadays because all these fakes are roaming the streets.”

“It doesn’t help that you’re well known, huh?” I joked.

“Exactly! You keep me from losing my mind… You inspire me, you encourage me, and I know I can be vulnerable with you and you wouldn't judge me for it! I just really love- Ugh... No, I should stop. I’m getting sappy.” He burst into laughter.

“Funny enough, I needed to hear that.” I blushed and rubbed that back of my neck. “Hizashi, I actually wanna talk to you about something when you get here. It’s important to me, so that’s why I wanna wait.”

“Oh, for real? I’m not in trouble, am I?”

He was so cute. “No, not at all!” I snorted.

“Good! Give me a few minutes, okay? I’ll be there in a bit.”

“In Hizashi minutes, right? I'm guessing that it'll be an hour before you get here.”

“Shut up, man! I can’t help the fact that I’m a high maintenance scatterbrain!” He whined on the other line.

“Whatever. Just get here when you get here. You know where the spare key is, so I’m gonna take a shower and clean up the place a bit.”

“Sounds good!”

“Okay, cool. See you then.”

“See you!” He sang then hung up.

I looked at my phone with a whirlwind of emotions. The comfort of his voice still in my heart, but it wrestled with the anxiety that I felt in my chest as I knew what I set myself up for. The timing seems wrong, but I was so caught up that I could care less. What if he hates me for even confessing now? Yet again, it seemed that he was dying for me to confess… I just know that this is the last Saturday morning I wanted to spend hungover by myself. I wanted to wake up to messy blond hair in my mouth, limbs entangled, and the sweet smell of his natural scent mixed with the ghost of his perfume of choice from the night before.

The feeling was so strong that I clutched my pillow for dear life, and I couldn’t tell what kind of tears were falling from my eyes. All I could do is lay there and imagine what could possibly become a reality while also fear that I could make this imagery impossible if I said the wrong things. Funny enough, this hurricane of emotion is something that I’m just observing. Somewhere deep in my core, I felt a sense of relief and peace. And it was that very peace that gave me the strength to get up and get ready for a life changing discussion with my best friend.

Thank you! Bye!

#erasermic #aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa #yamada hizashi #hizashi yamada #hizashi x shouta #maizawa

8 notes · View notes

fanfic-corner · 3 years

Text

Darling, So It Goes

Happy holidays, @slothbaby424! I may not have had as much time as I would like to have had to work on your @destielsecretsanta2020 fic, but I hope you enjoy it anyway (so sorry but it has not been proofread. At all). And a big thank you to @exmintha for the idea when I was struggling!

Again, here’s the playlist. It’s not necessary, but I like listening to music while writing and it’s got a load of Christmas bops on as well!

And, here’s the fic! It is 4639 words, and here’s the link on AO3 if you prefer.

{o0o}

“Pretty please?”

Dean huffed in annoyance, shifting from foot to foot. He really didn’t want to spend a day being pestered by demanding young children and their parents, but when Donna asked like that… well, he wasn’t a monster. “Fine. But if anyone gets any kind of bodily fluid on me, I am out.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine, sweetheart,” she replied, grinning wildly, and Dean had to smile back. And so, that was how Dean Winchester found himself decked out in the full Santa outfit - beard and hat included - for the Wayward Sister’s Christmas party.

Ever since they had set up the girl’s home, Jody and Donna had insisted on a big Christmas party. The first year, it was just a way to entertain the kids for the day, but since then it had evolved into an affair of epic standards. Practically the whole of Sioux Falls would show up at one point or another, usually with presents in tow. One year, Jody had confessed to Dean that they probably wouldn’t have been able to keep going without the support they got at Christmas.

To start with, Dean was not a good Santa. There were so many children that he had to keep track of, and who all wanted something and asked awkward questions that he didn’t have the answer to, and the hat was itchy and he could hardly see past the beard. By the time lunch rolled around, however, he had gotten into the swing of things, and was actually starting to enjoy himself.

That was when a stranger dumped a litre of chocolate milk over a guest’s head.

{o0o}

Castiel had been very grateful to get an invitation to a Christmas party, especially one from the people who had helped him adopt his son. He had learnt the hard way that society really doesn’t like gay people adopting kids, even if they were single.

Two hours after arriving, however, he was starting to have second thoughts. There were way more people than he expected and he had never been what someone might call a ‘social butterfly’. More like an ‘anti-social slug’, as Gabriel had once called him. The food was nice, but as it turned out, not all the people were.

“So, where’s your wife? Leave you with the kids, did she?” a man - Zachariah, Castiel thought his name was - said, punching him in the arm slightly harder than necessary.

“Oh, no, I enjoy doing things with Jack. And I’m not married.”

Zachariah looked Castiel up and down, and let out an interesting noise. He supposed it was probably meant to resemble disbelief, but to him, it sounded like an elephant stomping on a whoopee cushion. “Divorced, are you?”

Castiel raised his eyebrows. Did this man realise he was asking wildly inappropriate questions? He had half a mind to say ‘widowed’ just to see his reaction, but he didn’t dare. “No, I’m not.”

Zachariah seemed mildly uneasy at that, as if he wasn’t sure what other options there were left. “Well, I’m sure a nice lady will come along soon.”

“Actually, I’m gay,” Castiel corrected. So what if it wasn’t 100% true? In his opinion, this idiot deserved to be made as uncomfortable as possible.

Zachariah’s reaction was a little more… extreme than he was expecting. And, by extreme, what Castiel meant was that the man seemed to go through several stages - disbelief, at first, then confusion, and then his posture turned rigid and his face started turning a deeper and deeper shade of tomato red - before completely exploding into some kind of homophobic rage.

Castiel wasn’t even listening to the man ranting, just picking up words like ‘Jesus’ and ‘disgusting’ and more slurs than he could count. He was more concerned by all the children nearby who could hear the garbage this man was spouting, and he needed a way to quickly shut him up.

So, he took the obvious route, and poured the entire carton of chocolate milk that he had got for Jack over his bald head.

{o0o}

Dean felt, as Santa, he should probably go and sort out whatever argument the two morons were having that led to the waste of a perfectly good drink. He had been concerned about kids getting some kind of gunk on him, but apparently adults were equally messy.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on?” Dean asked, standing slightly in between them even though he couldn’t imagine either of them starting a fist fight. The guy covered in milk looked furious, but he was the kind of jerk who wouldn’t want his suit to get any messier than it already was, and the other dude looked like he was in some kind of shock.

“This- This queer just assaulted me!” Suit Man shouted, and Dean suddenly and rather desperately hoped that that chocolate milk was never coming out.

“Excuse me?” he asked, not entirely sure how to respond to that.

“It’s disgusting. They shouldn’t be able to raise a child in that lifestyle. It’s appal-”

“Shut up,” Dean said, rather forcefully and uncomfortably aware of the entire room’s eyes on him.

“What did you just say to me?”

“I said, shut up. What is really disgusting here is your behaviour. You think it is okay to be horrible to another human being just because of who he loves? Now that is bad parenting.”

If anyone asked him later, Dean would say that he was fuming. That his anger was clouding his judgement. That this dude was being an asshole at Christmas in front of kids. Maybe that’s why his brain spotted the teachable moment - no one argued with fucking Father Christmas - and leaned down, slowly pulling the other man towards him and kissing him gently.

To be honest, Dean was sure that he would pull away. In fact, he gave the stranger plenty of time to do so. But instead, he kissed back. Maybe he was in shock. Maybe he also saw what Dean was doing. But they kissed, and Dean knew, somehow, that it was the beginning.

{o0o}

Castiel went to that stupid party because he thought it would be a good way to entertain Jack for the afternoon, and instead left feeling simultaneously embarrassed, with the bonus of a random man’s number. Who he had kissed. In front of a room full of people.

To his continued surprise (although Castiel thought that perhaps there was a limit on how many surprises he could process in one day), the man - Dean, he said his name was, seemed genuinely interested in going on a date with him.

The Roadhouse didn’t look like a particularly romantic spot, but he was not backing out now.

“You must be Castiel.” A stern-looking woman looks him up and down before nodding in approval. “I’m Ellen. You better not hurt my boy,” she warned with a threatening smile, gesturing towards where Dean was sitting in a booth in the corner. He was clearly not reading the menu, his eyes glassy and unfocused, but he fiddled with it anyway, his leg restlessly bouncing under the table.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel greeted as he sat down, hoping he was hiding his nerves as well as he thought he was. Remember, fake it ‘til you make it, Meg’s voice reminded him. She had been so excited when he called her about his date, threatening him with unspeakable violence if he didn’t show up. Although, Meg could threaten unspeakable violence about anything. She once left the entirety of his cutlery drawer under Castiel’s duvet just because he forgot to feed her cat once.

“Hiya, Cas,” Dean replied, grinning at him. Even though he was clearly nervous, he still seemed sincerely glad to see him, and it warmed his heart. “You don’t mind if I call ya that, right? Oh - before I forget, you should totally get the Elvis burger. It’s absolutely amazing.”

The meal went remarkably well, considering that Cas usually avoided dates like the plague. First dates were the worst - the annoyance of getting to know each other, and the inevitable awkwardness at the end - and he rarely saw anyone more than once. After a particularly bad night, which had ended with Meg having to come and pick him up from a park during a thunderstorm, Cas had sworn off dating. Yet, here he was, and he couldn’t deny he was enjoying himself.

Just as they had finished eating, two girls bounded up to the table. They clearly knew Dean somehow; one was skinny and blonde and Cas could swear that he could see a knife peeking out from her apron, and the other had flaming red hair and a t-shirt which proclaimed ‘the internet is broken, so I’m outside today’.

“Wanna decorate cookies with us?” they exclaimed at the same time, and before he could process what was happening, Cas had been dragged over to the kitchen where there was already a tray of perfect biscuits cooling on the counter.

The next half an hour was spent in a whirlwind of icing and sprinkles and sugar, and Cas loved every minute, although he really hoped that none of the cookies ended up being given to customers, because he had seen Jack make mud cakes more hygienic than this. Charlie sat in a corner on her phone, blasting Christmas music while focused on texting and taking pictures, whereas Jo was thoroughly entertaining herself by drawing inappropriate designs on her biscuits. Dean and Cas’ actually ended up looking okay, but neither of them were artists, so the cookies still looked like they had been decorated by a toddler.

When they were finished, they left Charlie and Jo to clean up and went back into the main area of the now empty restaurant. A new song came over the speakers, slow and enchanting, and Dean offered Cas a hand. “A dance before you go?”

Dancing with Dean, Cas decided, was magical. They swayed together, gradually getting closer and closer until their chests were pressed together and Cas’ head was resting on Dean’s shoulder. For a minute, Cas could forget everything but this moment. He allowed himself to simply be lost in the music and the warmth of Dean’s body, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat and feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

As the song ended, Dean carefully pulled apart just enough to lean down and join their lips in a tender kiss, and Cas thought that he could be in heaven.

But the kiss only got deeper and suddenly Cas’ mind flickered back online just in time to remind him what a ridiculous idea this was. Red flashing lights screamed and wailed and reminded him of what always happened, and the sudden warning jolted his body into action, pulling away from Dean in a panic.

Dean looked down at him with a lazy smile, only frowning when he realised something was wrong. “Cas? Wha- did I do something wrong?”

Cas was shaking his head and reversing all at once, all higher functioning processes having been thrown out of the window. He was babbling, apologising and saying it wasn’t Dean and all the while he knew he was on the edge of some kind of embarrassing meltdown, so in the end, he let his feet do the talking, and fled.

{o0o}

Dean didn’t think the fact he hadn’t left his house in two days had anything to do with the best date he had ever been on ending with the other dude running out on him, but apparently Charlie did. She had been pestering him all day, asking if he wanted to help her decorate for Christmas or go and get milkshakes or watch a film. No matter what she suggested, Dean always declined. He wasn’t feeling it, and if it had anything to do with the trenchcoat staring at him from across the room, he wasn’t going to admit it to anyone.

It wasn’t the first time someone had run out on him, of course, but usually that was on a particularly awkward date or if something bad had happened. He just couldn’t understand what had sent Cas running out of the Roadhouse like that, so panicstricken that he forgot his coat which he came with. Dean didn’t think he had read the situation that badly; in fact, he had been sure that the other man had been enjoying their date.

He sighed and pulled the pillow over his head, trying to ignore his phone as it pinged constantly. Yeah, it was probably Charlie spamming him, but there was always the chance it could be Cas…

Charlie: What about we just go on a really long drive?

Charlie: You can pick the music

Charlie: You shouldn’t be cooped up on Christmas eve eve!

Charlie: Dean Winchester, you better not be ignoring me

Charlie: Dean???

Ellen: You still coming to the party tomorrow?

Oh, shit. Dean had totally forgotten about the Annual Roadhouse Christmas Bash. It was the perfect opportunity to distribute the presents and cards he bought, there was plenty of delicious (and free!) food, and it was generally the highlight of his Christmas. Everyone would be there - Ellen and Jo, Bobby, Charlie, and practically everyone else who lived within a hundred mile radius.

No matter how down Dean was feeling, he wouldn’t miss it for the world. In his opinion, family came before everything.

Dean: course i am

{o0o}

“Come on Clarence, it’s Christmas!” Meg encouraged, nudging Castiel’s shoulder. “I’ll go with you, and Claire can watch Jack. She already agreed.”

Castiel looked down at the napping toddler, one thumb in his mouth and a teddy clutched tight in his tiny hands. It felt like he had barely spent any time with his son in forever, even though he knew it wasn’t true. He knew that if he really didn’t want to go, Meg would let him weasel his way out of this particular social gathering, but he couldn’t help but think that it might be good for him.

“An hour’s all I’m asking,” Meg begged. He was surprised she hadn’t threatened him with Nair or something yet.

“Fine.” Just one hour, and then a quiet Christmas. What could possibly go wrong?

{o0o}

Dean had busted out his favourite leather jacket, and (at Charlie’s desperate begging) was even wearing just a bit of eyeliner. He was determined to not let his failed date ruin his favourite thing about Christmas, and he would be damned if he spent another minute thinking about Cas.

(So, maybe he had brought the forgotten coat along with him, but that was just so he could give it to Ellen in case Cas came in the Roadhouse again! She was much more likely to see the dude again than him, anyways. It wasn’t Dean’s fault that - because of Charlie’s enthusiasm to get inside - he had left the thing in the Impala's trunk.)

For the first hour, his plan entirely succeeded. He was distracted by the gift exchanging and the procuring of food and catching up with old friends and avoiding people he didn’t like (namely that one girl who delivered food for Ellen sometimes who he could swear was a demon). It was only after the hour mark when he swore he saw a familiar mop of dark hair, but he immediately dismissed the thought. No way.

He went into the kitchen and chatted to Benny for a while, enjoying catching up on his old friend’s life. Perhaps he got a bit distracted when he heard a familiar gruff voice in the hallway, but other than that, he was sure that his mind was playing tricks on him. Besides, Jo was always up to something. Just because she had a glint in her eye when she came into the kitchen, it didn’t mean anything special. Probably just that some poor fool had a whoopee cushion on their chair somewhere.

It was about halfway through the party when Dean’s plan really started to fail. The music suddenly seemed too loud and the once friendly crowd suddenly made him feel claustrophobic. The smell of burgers and chocolate - no matter how delicious Dean knew they were - was making his stomach roll. The best course of action, he decided, was to step outside for a few minutes, to get some fresh air.

He didn’t expect to find Castiel already out there.

{o0o}

Meg - being Meg - had absolutely insisted, upon their arrival at the Roadhouse, that she didn’t know that it was the location of Castiel’s failed date. Apparently she had been invited (with a plus one) because she occasionally delivered food for them or something, but Castiel smelt a lie in there somewhere.

It would be fine. One hour, free punch and food, and he could go home. He could avoid Dean for one hour. He might not even be there.

An hour in, and Castiel was sure he wasn’t there, in fact. He politely greeted Ellen (who glared daggers at him, which he felt he deserved) and Charlie (who apparently knew Meg). He had a conversation with Jo outside the kitchen (which mostly consisted of him asking where the toilets were and Jo asking if he had called Dean). In fact, he was actually having a fairly pleasant time when he realised that they probably wouldn’t make it home in time to relieve Claire of her babysitting duties, so he quickly rushed outside to call her, but she didn’t pick up.

God only knew where Meg was, but she was - as she put it - a ‘big girl who could handle herself’, so Castiel didn’t bother waiting up. He simply called a taxi, hoping it would get there before he froze to death. He still hadn’t managed to find his favourite coat, and he had deeply mourned his loss.

He was so caught up in hopping from foot to foot and thinking about how much of a tip he was going to give Claire that he nearly didn’t hear the voice coming from the doorway.

“Cas?” Dean Winchester asked.

Fuck, he thought, slowly turning around to be met with the sight of the gorgeous man with a handsome jacket and eyes like a forest. Oh, he was so fucked.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas replied instead, not sure what else to say.

The younger man walked up to him tentatively, as if any quick movement he made might scare Cas off. “Uh… what are you doing here?”

“Meg convinced me to come,” Cas answered, his eyes never quite meeting Dean’s.

“Meg? She- Is she your girlfriend?” Dean looked hurt, but Cas couldn’t help but laugh.

“God, no. She’s my neighbour,” he chuckled.

“Oh, sorry,” Dean mumbled.

It was a lot quieter outside, but even with the background noise - wispy notes of music and the occasional growl of a car’s engine in the distance - their silence seemed deafening. Neither of them was quite sure what to say, and even though Cas knew that it was him who owed Dean the explanation, he did not have the energy to explain himself. In all the twenty two years in which he had understood his sexuality, he had never once been able to describe his experience succinctly, or even in a way that wasn’t babbling nonsense.

Of course the taxi was taking its sweet time to show up.

“I’m sorry,” Cas blurted out, at the same time Dean stammered, “why did you leave?”

They are silent for another moment. “It’s hard to explain,” Cas hesitated.

“Well, I’d kinda like to know,” Dean snapped, wincing as the words came out of his mouth. “Sorry, ignore me. I’m being a dick. You don’t have to explain if you don’t want-”

“I’m asexual,” Cas declared abruptly, cutting Dean off.

Dean opened and closed his mouth for a few seconds, trying to process this. Cas knew, he just knew from the look on his face that this conversation was going to be as horrific as it is every. Single. Time.

“I’ve not heard of that before,” Dean eventually stated.

Cas sighed. He liked Dean, he genuinely did, but it was usually The Talk that scared people off. “I’m not sexually attracted to anyone.”

“Oh,” Dean mumbles, sounding disappointed. “So, the other night…?”

“Romantic and sexual attraction are two different things. I enjoyed our date, but I… panicked, at the end. People tend to, uh… expect things, and I didn’t want to lead you on. Sorry, again. I should have handled it better.”

“S’okay. So you don’t have sex at all?” Dean asked, deadpan. Suddenly, he realised what he said, and he clapped his hands over his mouth. “I am so sorry. That is such a weird question. Don’t answer that.”

Cas huffed out a laugh, watching his breath disappear into the night. Looking up, he watched as the stars winked at him against the inky backdrop, and he took a deep breath. “Would you like to go on another date?”

Cas finally allowed himself to look at Dean, and he was greeted with a warm, sincere smile. “I would love that.”

The moment was broken when Cas’ phone rang, and he fumbled to pick it up with his frozen fingers. “Claire! Sorry I’m late, I’m on my- what’s wrong? Claire, slow down. The hospital? Shit, I’m on my way.”

Cas glanced up at Dean, barely registering his concern, only managing to choke out, “Jack is in the hospital.”

{o0o}

Dean didn’t even hesitate. There was no way in Hell he was gonna let Cas wait for a cab when his son was hurt, and he was bundling the distressed man towards his car before he could even protest. “Which hospital?”

Cas stood by the passenger door completely rigid, his brows furrowed in confusion. “Dean, what are you doing?”

Dean looked at him incredulously, one eyebrow raised. “Giving you a lift, dumbass. Baby is way faster than any taxi.”

“Baby?” Cas asked, but he got in the car anyway.

Luckily, the Roadhouse was only a twenty minute drive away (if you went by the speed limit, and Dean most certainly did not) but even that seemed like an age when he was trying to simultaneously not crash the car and comfort the man in the passenger seat. Dean didn’t have any kids of his own, but he could imagine that this was the worst possible thing that could happen to Cas; to have your own child in danger and not being able to be with them must be torture.

Cas was opening the car door before they had even come to a full stop, and by the time Dean had parked, he was already inside. By the time Dean caught up, he was already deep in conversation with Jody’s daughter, who was distraught. It was almost scary; Dean remembered her as the girl who had thrown a full grown man out of a second story window because he groped her, and every interaction he had ever had with her had made her seem like a badass.

“What’s going on?” he asked, gently shepherding them towards a seat in the waiting room.

Cas wasn’t listening. He had already stormed off and was in a heated discussion with the receptionist, who kept shaking her head more and more forcefully.

“A dog attacked him,” Claire hiccuped. “Just came out of nowhere and started tearing at him.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Dean assured her, bringing in a hug. He didn’t even care that she was probably getting snot all over his favourite jacket.

Cas stormed back over, looking like he was ready to level a city. “They won’t let me see him until they’ve operated.”

“Shit,” Dean replied, a plan forming. “Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do. Claire, you go outside and call Jody and ask her to pick you up, ‘kay? I’m gonna call someone at the Roadhouse to bring some supplies so we can camp here overnight if we need to… Cas, do you have a spare key or something? I can get someone to pick up some stuff from your house that you might need?”

“Meg has a key,” he sniffled.

Fifteen minutes later, everything is as sorted out as it can be. Bobby - the only person left who is safe to drive - was giving Meg a lift to Cas’ place to pick up their things and to bring some food, and Jody was there to pick up Claire.

“It’s not your fault, kiddo. Go home and get some rest, we’ll keep you updated,” Dean reassured her.

An hour later, the doctors agreed to let Cas in to see Jack, assuring them that he will be absolutely fine. When Cas finally untangled himself from Dean’s side, he seemed reluctant to leave him, but Dean just smiled gently at him and squeezed his hand. “I’ll wait right here,”

In the end, Jack gets discharged the very same night, coincidentally right as Bobby and apparently an entire ensemble from the Roadhouse show up. Jo is there with enough leftovers to feed an army, and Charlie and Meg had enough blankets and bags of clothes with them that Dean winced when he spared a thought for the state Cas’ house was going to be in.

It was a little awkward when Cas walked out of the hospital with a sleeping Jack in his arms, bundled in one of the many blankets, but Bobby just huffed and offered to give them a lift back home. Charlie clambered into the Impala without a second word - it would not be the first time she had slept over at Dean’s while drunk - leaving Dean to say goodbye.

“Night, Cas. And Merry Christmas,” he said, squeezing his shoulder reassuringly.

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas replied, and they both knew he wasn’t talking about the holiday wishes.

{o0o}

The next time they actually managed to see each other was New Year’s Eve. Dean had shown up on Cas’ doorstep with chocolate, an armful of fireworks, and his usual lopsided smile. Obviously, he was not going to be refused.

They set the fireworks off as soon as it went dark, Cas holding Jack a safe distance away while Dean lit them, his silhouette dancing in the darkness of the garden. The bangs elicited excited squeaks from Jack, his eyes open wide in awe. He had never seen fireworks up close before.

After Jack had been tucked into sleep, Cas returned downstairs to find Dean lounging on the porch, two glasses of champagne poured. They sat outside for hours, watching the explosions of colour mix with the stars until it was impossible to tell them apart.

Cas couldn’t help but think that Dean was beautiful in this light; mellow and golden, his eyes sparkling underneath a halo of sparks.

Before long, it was a minute to midnight. “I… can I kiss you again?” Dean mumbled, his eyes flicking over to Cas nervously.

He smiled reassuringly. “I think I would like that.”

“Oh, uh, awesome.” It was hard to tell, but he was sure that Dean was blushing furiously. “I just wasn’t sure if you were, like, aromantic or something.”

Cas’ eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You know what that is?”

“I googled it all after you told me. Figured I should probably learn all the terms, y’know?”

All of a sudden, Castiel realised that he might be falling in love. No one had ever bothered doing anything like that for him before.

A chant started up in the distance, a thousand voices all counting down at the same time.

Ten

Nine

Eight

Dean gently cupped the back of Cas’ neck, pulling him closer until he could feel the warmth of his face.

Seven

Six

Five

Cas smiled up at him, lost in the forests that he called eyes.

Four

Three

Two

“Happy New Year, Cas,” Dean whispered, and their lips collided, better than any firework.

#i hope you enjoy #destiel #my writing #fanfic #destiel secret santa #christmas

20 notes · View notes

banashee · 3 years

Link

i"I have way too many stories already planned" I said. “I can’t write in multiple fandoms at once, it will throw me off” I said. “OK so I’ll just get this out of my system real quick” I said. “Well shit, I’ve gotten more ideas now that I’ve started…” I said, determinded to face it - I have a problem. Just a small one… Who am I kidding. Send help.

Also, this is the first time I’ve written for this fandom. I’ve loved and enjoyed TMA for a while now, not just the pod but also fanworks. And now I’m joining in on the fun and you folks will have to deal with it :D ♥

This story got inspired by a conversation on Reddit with Swiftysmoon. Thank you very much for the inspo! This one is for you :)

edit. sorry about the missing ReadMore cut, Tumblr is programmed like a pile of garbage and removed it after I edited a typo...I’ve added it back in now.

please mind the tags and warnings

Into the Void

Truth be told, Jon never planned on this to happen. Of course not - it is ridiculous and more than a little embarrassing, but he can’t help himself.

See, the thing is, Jon is a restless, anxious person in general. He’ll hide away in his office for hours, typing away or recording statements in solitude, only interrupted when someone actually wants something from him. That, or when Martin brings him yet another cup of tea, checking if he’s still alive or starved to death on his desk.

No kidding - Martin had told him this, once, and although he’d been half-joking at the time, the underlying message had been very clear.

‘Please take care of yourself, you worry me.’ - it had been oddly sweet, and Jon still has no idea how to even react to this kindness.

But the thing is - Jon has nervous habits. While his mind is wandering and he is buried neck-deep in his work, he tends to fiddle. Mostly with pens, or anything else he can reach on his desk. That would be fine - no one notices it, unless they stand right next to him. But Jon had almost choked on the pen he’d been chewing on, lost in thoughts while reading his notes, omn more than one occasion. Mostly thanks to Tim bursting into the room like the whirlwind he is.

For one, Tim Stoker just doesn’t knock. Ever. He enters a room as loud and cheerful as he does anything else, and it can be a bit unnerving. Still, he somehow manages to be a professional and be really good at his job. That and the fact that there is ‘Chaos’ written all over him makes for an odd combination sometimes, but they’re all somewhat used to this.

So, when Tim suddenly sticks his head into the room with a cheerfully casual

“Hey, Boss!”

Jon startles and nearly stabs himself in the throat with a pen while he scrambles to make it look like he didn’t chew on it the entire time. He needs to preserve some sort of professionalism around here, even though he feels a little bit lost sometimes.

He glares halfheartedly, trying to keep whatever is left of his composure in place. Tim shoots him a bright smile with finger guns, then he rattles off the information that Jon had asked him for not long ago.

Thankful that he doesn’t have to explain himself, Jon launches onto it.

As time goes on, things around the institute get more and more weird. One thing adds to the other, and suddenly, they’re at war against worms all over the place. They spend their days at the institute armed with fire extinguishers and in Martin’s case, a corkscrew. Martin even lives there now, which adds a whole different level to it all.

Really, it is not surprising that they rarely ever get any outside visitors down in the archives. They have a bit of a reputation for being weird, and truth be told, Jon can’t find any fault in the people who assume that. If he wasn’t involved - if he didn’t know what lurks out there, in the shadows, he’d have thought the same.

Pushing his own dismissive, sceptic act is getting harder and harder these days, but it doesn’t stop Jon from trying.

Even after Jane Prentiss’ attack, Jon tries to keep up that act. It’s clearly faltering now, though, which may or may not be partially due to the fact that he confessed to Martin that yes, he does believe and he is terrified. It’s been an awkward conversation, to say the least, and not just because Jon pretty much asked if Martin was a ghost and despite Martin stabbing him with the corkscrew. To be fair, he’d apologized profusely for that, and while Jon is not happy about it, he is thankful for his attempt to get the damn worms out of him. Just thinking about it still makes him shudder, makes him lay awake at night.

On the plus side, their team in the archives has grown much closer to one another - it eases the anxiety and paranoia, just a bit.

Jon finds himself busy, not to say, utterly distracted. Time flies, and he takes even less care of himself than he did before. He practically lives off tea, and whatever food is offered where Martin, Tim and Sasha drag him along to.

Jon acts prickly and annoyed as always, but in reality, he appreciates their efforts. Lord knows, he isn’t sure he deserves this kindness, but he still makes an effort. These three people are all he’s got, after all. They’re the only group of allies who have any sort of idea what is really going on in the archives, and that alone is enough to have him lower his walls just a bit.

One day, Jon keeps blowing an annoying, grey-streaked strand of his otherwise dark hair out of his face. He didn’t have the time or energy to get a haircut lately - there are much more pressing matters to take care of. But his hair is currently at the awkward in-between length that he hated years ago, when he decided to grow it out. He’d kept it long, up until shortly before his promotion to head archivist. Only then he parted with the shoulder length ponytail in an attempt to be perceived as more professional.

It doesn’t feel right - never did. And as much as he hates the annoying strands falling in his face, it makes him feel like he is back on the way to himself. Or at least as much as he can these days.

Especially in the face of, well, everything else, it is a small comfort. Right now though, Jon is annoyed - he takes a pen from his desk, and sticks it behind his ear to hold back the constantly falling piece of hair - it works.

Jon only notices the pen again when he is about to go to bed that night - he huffs, places it onto the small desk in his bedroom and then crawls under the covers. Once he is in bed, Jon is waiting for the insomnia and the nightmares to keep him awake, despite his best attempts to fall asleep.

He is long used to both, but the last few months have been significantly more stressful.

The next day, Jon is exhausted. He barely makes it into the kitchen for some coffee, then he drives to the institute, the pen forgotten back home. Oh well - he’ll bring it back in another day - no big deal.

Except, it becomes a Thing, with a capital T.

Jon is chewing on and fumbling with his pens as usual, recording statement after statement and doesn’t exactly realize what he is doing. He hides away, until one of the others drags him away from the desk for inconvenient human needs like food and company, but really, he goes willingly now. All he needs is a small reminder.

The bit of human warmth and company means a lot to Jon, and he soaks it up as much as he allows himself to. Trusting people is a struggle for him. His relationship with each and every coworker is definitely a work in progress, but he is willing to try, anyway.

One night, Martin points to the side of Jon’s neck in quiet amusement.

“Oh, you’ve got ink on you - yes, right there.” he touches the spot behind his own ear. Jon blinks, and when he tries to wipe it away, his hand comes away with yet another goddamn pen.

It joins a small pile of accidentally stolen pens on Jon’s desk back home - he’s been meaning to bring them back ages ago, but he keeps forgetting. At this point, he refuses to drop them all off at once, because that would definitely catch someone’s attention - and attention is the last thing he wants right now. Add in the fact that this is, well, ridiculous and embarrassing… No. Just no.

Jon looks around the room, heat creeping up his face even though there is no one around to look at and judge him - then he opens an empty drawer in his desk. The pens disappear with one swift movement of his arm before Jon slams the drawer shut. There - done.

And this is how, what Jon secretly calls his “Desk Drawer of Shame”, comes into existence.

Occasionally, a small handful of pens will make its way back into the archives. But at this point, they’re way, way too many to bring back at once, at least not without pissing off Elias. That is, if he isn’t chuckling at the ridiculous and mysteriously high cost of office supplies in the last few months.

At the very least, Jon would be at the receiving end of some good natured ribbing from his coworkers in the foreseeable future.

Jon is reading the last few lines of a statement, when the door to his office opens up after a quick knock. He looks up with a frown, which is more habit than anything at this point, and quickly drops his feet back on the ground. At least, he isn’t chewing on a pen this time.

Standing in the doorway, shooting him a small smile, is Martin and he is waiting for Jon to finish recording the last few lines. Only when the familiar

“Statement ends.” marks the end of the recording session, he starts talking.

“Hi! Uh, did you have lunch yet?”

Jon didn’t, and Martin knows it, but he is trying to go the polite route before his motherhen-mode is activated and he physically drags the man away from the desk in an attempt to make him take a break.

So, Jon smiles back, which still feels a bit foreign in a work context, but he secretly enjoys the spark of happiness on Martin’s face when he does. Not like he focuses on that or anything…

“No, I- I didn’t. Did you have something in mind?” he asks as he gets up and pulls his jacket from the back of his chair. It’s a welcome distraction from his work.

Jon didn’t sleep, again, and he can tell that he is getting sloppy and way more irritable than usual. Chances are, getting a bite to eat and spending some time out of the institute with a friend will do him some good.

On the way out, Jon falls comfortably into step with Martin. Plenty of thoughts cross his mind, and he chooses to ignore all of them. In fact, he’d been so busy staring up at a cluster of freckles on Martin’s cheek that he doesn’t even notice what he tells him about the little café that he was planning to visit. Only when he stops talking, obviously waiting for an answer, Jon nods, hoping that Martin actually asked him a yes-or-no question.

For now, it seems to be enough, and they enjoy their lunch break. Jon is still lost in thoughts though.

That night, he is unable to sleep once again, as his mind keeps him wide awake and Jon is shaking apart under the blanket. There are two new pens on his desk, and it feels like they’re glaring at him. It’s ridiculous - they really are the least of his worries. Jon is just distracted, that’s all.

There is ink on his neck. Again. Jon swipes at it in mild annoyance, inwardly cursing himself for being so careless. His movement catches Tim’s attention, and then his eyes wander to the pen that is stuck halfway to Jon’s ponytail - it’s for convenience, really - but it’s clearly the cause for the ink scribbles on his skin.

Tim puts the pieces together and grins. He is way too easily amused about this, but to be fair, they get their laughs whenever they can these days. And this is still much better than the silent, angry version of Tim that tends to come out more and more and the last few months. At least, when he’s laughing, he isn’t that.

Small favors.

The more distracted Jon grows, and the longer his hair gets, the more pens he keeps losing - or more like, forgetting - in it.

He doesn’t realize that he is doing it, really, until someone - mostly Martin or Tim these days, because Sasha is (gone) (different ) absent - walks up and plucks one of the pens right out of his hair in order to use it. Jon should be annoyed, but he can’t bring himself to be. It’s oddly comforting that the two of them are still willing to seek him out. Because that’s what this is - there are plenty of pens around, of course.

There is no need to come into his office, to come close to him just to get office supplies. They’re here because they want to, and that honestly means the world to Jon.

As much as he’d tried to keep them at arm’s length, he’s failed miserably. Thankfully so - things would be much, much worse if they had to deal with everything on their own.

“Hang on - how many bloody pens are in there?” Martin asks one day, calling over from the other room. He looks up in utter confusion while already cracking up with laughter.

“Wait, are those-?”

Oh goddammit.

Apparently, that’s what happens when Jon answers absentmindedly when asked for the location of a pen in his apartment.

He needs to renovate his kitchen, because the landlord just won’t do it in any reasonable amount of time, so Jon is in old jeans and an even older T-shirt, packing dishes and kitchenware into boxes with Martin and Tim. The two of them had been kind enough to offer help, so that’s why they’re all piled in Jon’s small apartment on a Saturday morning.

Partway through, they realize that they should probably label the boxes, and soon after, Martin stands in the bedroom, opening not the stationary drawer, but The Secret Drawer of Shame With Accidentally Stolen Pens From The Institute.

“Oh, good lord.” With an audible ‘thump’, Jons forehead collides with the kitchen table. His glasses sit crooked now, and he doesn’t lift his head up while he tries to explain, and despite being flustered, he manages to keep that certain tone of voice that’s usually reserved for work hours.

“I, yes. I may have accidentally taken a pen or two with me and only realized it here. Coming back into work with all of them at once seemed… well. Not ideal at the time.”

“No wonder when you keep storing them in your hair.” Martin comes back, with a handful of pens and a bright smile.

While walking past, he pulls another pen out of Jon’s bun, just to prove his point. A long strand of hair slips forward and falls back into Jon’s face. Meanwhile, Tim has snuck off to peek into the other room out of pure curiosity, then he proceeds to laugh his arse off for the next few minutes.

“You know, we should make it a sport at this point. How much stationary supplies can we steal until Elias catches wind of it?” Tim offers, because of course he does.

It is ridiculous and childish, so naturally, it quickly becomes A Thing.

Anything to get a tiny bit of satisfaction is a valid option at this point, and besides, it’s not like Jon is trying to be sneaky or anything. It just happens , like so many things these days.

As it turns out, Elias doesn’t care. None of them is stupid enough to assume he doesn’t know - the bastard knows everything, that’s part of their problem. He just never calls any of them out on it - if it is because it’s too unimportant or if he is getting a chuckle out of it as well, they never find out.

At some point, late at night when all three of them had a few drinks, they’re brave enough to joke about what fear entity would be responsible for a never ending void filled with pens (“A.K.A you desk drawer of shame, Jon. Have another drink, you’re annoyingly sober for this conversation.”)

It’s a half-serious debate, and one which they continue every once in a while. Most notably so at the institute’s christmas party, huddled in a corner where they’re mostly being left alone. And if that is mostly due to Jon glaring holes through anyone daring to come close, just a hair away from actually hissing and snarling, well. He didn’t get his reputation of being rude and prickly for nothing.

All of this turns into fond memories, once everything has gone to hell.

Jon is freshly awake from six months of coma, and the world around him has changed. Martin is barely around and Tim is dead . So is Sasha, even though they never knew, for the longest time.

All of this hurts badly enough to stop him from breathing every once in a while, and after a series of even more tangled and unfortunate events, Jon finds himself huddled close to Martin on a train.

They’re on their way to Scotland and neither of them talks much, but they’re unwilling to let go of the other’s hand. The air is chilly, even inside the wagon, and Martin is still shivering under layers of jumpers and jackets.

The Lonely has settled deep into his bones, and sometimes, it’s like he is fading away again. Every time this happens, the steady warmth of Jon keeps pulling him back.

Jons hand is smaller and bonier in Martin’s own large, soft hand, but it’s grip is steady and warm. His thumb keeps stroking gently over the back of his hand while he is holding it, and it is the most loved Martin has felt in a long time.

Eventually, he manages to relax enough to doze off for a bit. While his head find’s it’s way down and onto Jon’s shoulder, he can feel the slight poke of a plastic pen that is sticking out of his hair.

Martin almost smiles, and squeezes back when Jon tightens the grip around his hand and settles against him.

They keep finding the damn things around the safehouse, because frankly, they’re everywhere. And that’s just whatever Jon had on his person out of sheer habit. Lord knows, his hair has grown way past his shoulders by now, and more often than not, he keeps it up and out of the way with whatever is around him at the time.

Mostly, it’s pens.

At first, they’re just there , and both Jon and Martin have about a million other things to think of and to deal with than a few too many office supplies laying around.

The exhaustion, both physically and emotionally, leaves them absolutely drained and dead to the world.

It is bad enough so that they crawl into bed almost as soon as they have arrived and inspected the small cabin. The question of whether or not they’re going to share the bed isn’t even raised - neither of them is willing to let go of the other. All the way from London to up here, they’d held hands to reassure themselves that they wouldn’t lose each other, and they’re not about to stop now.

It is a lot easier to remind each other that they’re not alone when all they need to do is focus on the breath and heartbeat of one another. Focusing on the heat radiating under the blankets, where they are embracing throughout the night to keep the nightmares and the ever growing anxiety at bay.

They have plenty of bad days when everything just creeps up at them and even talking is too much. Those days, they spend curled up in front of the fire or in bed, holding on tight for as long as they need to in order to feel more alive again.

After a while, they’re able to relax more. Martin is much warmer and solid now, doesn’t fade away into the fog without noticing. It’s happening less and less now - whether or not he will be able to shake off The Lonely entirely, neither of them knows, but he is happy about every step in the other direction.

Jon is just as happy to see him doing better, and he tells him as much over breakfast, smiling as he tangles their legs under the table.

There are two pens already stuck in his hair, holding it up in two buns. It’s probably from when he read a statement from the stack of files and tapes that Basira sent over the other day.

The statement has definitely taken the edge off of things for Jon. Now he can sit at the kitchen table with his boyfriend and enjoy a cup of tea instead of growing weaker and weaker with hunger for statements. As ironic as it is, it makes him feel more human, even though he is no longer fully human. He’s pretty sure of it.

“I love you.” Martin tells him, because it is true and he likes saying it as often as possible, now that he can. It sends a spark of warm happiness through his chest, and it is bright enough to chase away the cold fog that’s still lingering sometimes - just for a bit.

“I love you, too.”

He’ll never get tired of hearing this.

“I love you” they say, as they drink tea in the morning and eat freshly baked bread, still warm from the oven.

“I love you” they say, as they walk hand in hand through the cobblestone streets down in the village, on their way to buy groceries and look at the little local shops.

“I love you” they say, as they step around each other in the tiny kitchen while cooking dinner, distracting one another with kisses until one of them remembers the food or notices the charred smell of something burning. It’s only then that they break apart, cursing and laughing all at once.

“I love you” they say, as they spend nights wide awake, holding on tightly through their grief and fear. They say it out loud or whisper it into the darkness, comforting one another as best as they can.

“I love you”, they whisper through silence and tears, but they say it just as much through smiles and laughter.

“I love you” they say, after every single argument. Their love for each other is strong, so much so that they’re certain they will be able to figure out the rest. Whether that’s the end of the world as they know it or anything else doesn’t matter.

“I love you” Martin says, after he walks up behind Jon and plucks one of the pens out of his hair. There are at least two more, and besides, Martin woke up this morning with a few lines of poetry in the back of his mind. He wants to write them down before he forgets - maybe, just maybe, he can turn them into something beautiful.

“I love you.” Jon says, and he pulls Martin closer by the front of his pyjama shirt, turning around just enough to be able to press a quick kiss to his lips. The movement leaves them both in an awkward position, hanging over the back of the sofa with their glasses askew.

Martin has one of his arms wrapped around Jon, who is holding on tight, happily leaning into him with a quiet, happy satisfaction on his face. Clearly, he is enjoying this an awful lot.

No doubt, if it wasn’t for the hold onto the sofa Martin has with his other, he’d have toppled over and fallen right into the smaller man’s lap. And maybe that’s exactly what Jon is trying to do - who knows. He is way more affectionate than either of them would have thought possible, really.

They remain wrapped up in the tight hug, and neither of them wants to let go yet.

Notes:

Warnings: - Off-screen canon character death mentioned - insecurity - Loneliness - Trust issues - if you want me to add anything please let me know

#banashee writes #tma fanfic #the magnus archives #the magnus archives fanfic #JonMartin #mentioned character death

5 notes · View notes

k-writer1998 · 3 years

Text

Who Said Love Was Easy? (7/12)

There are many different kinds of people who come and go from your life. Some will stay constant and sturdy like a river, growing alongside you, others will come like a whirlwind who wreaks havoc and leaves just as quickly, then there is everything in between. In this twisted maze of connections, that is where our story begins. A steadfast boy, a girl with a past, a little bit of alcohol, mistakes, and some love. Where can you go wrong with that?

angsty fluff

w.c: 1.6k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The moment the door closed the air immediately changed as if a blizzard suddenly blew through. I pursed my lips and threw a glance at Jeongin but he was already looking at me in concern. He needs to leave. Step-mother will act out as she wishes regardless of who is here, unless it’s dad’s family, and I don’t want him to see. Dinner was enough. Before I was able to open my mouth to speak, step-mother was one step ahead.

“How is it you only had one simple job but even then you can’t even do that right?”

“Well it’s my birthday, of course she would want to talk about m-”

“It’s not that hard to throw your brother’s achievements into a conversation,” she snapped with a scoff, “still as incompetent as when you left.”

Don’t lash out y/n… not now in front of Jeongin. This woman won’t hesitate to use physical means and you have nothing to prove to her. What she says has no effect anymore so keep the trembling in check and don’t start reliving the past now.

“Since I… left the family, I hadn’t really paid much attention to what goes on in the company so I don’t really know many of your son's achievements.”

“Don’t get smart with me. You knew why you were here tonight, you should’ve prepared,” she hissed, taking a step closer to me.

I saw Jeongin’s body step to make a move but I slyly moved to block his path and held my hand out behind me to stop him. Thank god my body thought that stopping Jeongin was more important than flinching back. Of course of all the people to catch it though, it was Youngho.

“Aww does your little boyfriend want to protect you? Is that why you brought him? Does he think we’re this big bad family?” he mocked in a babying tone.

“Can you just shut up with the-”

“Don’t you speak to my son like that!”

I grit my teeth at her response and turned to Jeongin, nudging his arm, before dropping my voice and asking, “Can you wait for me outside?”

“Y/n the whole reason I came was because-” he responded in the same hushed tone.

“I know… just please?”

I gently grabbed his sleeve and pleaded. This was more than enough. Anymore than this and the signs might start showing, him being here is only provoking her more. She can't stand the sight of “the cause of her misery” getting generosity I supposedly didn’t deserve. Couldn’t you throw me at least one bone after all of the shit I’ve gone through God? Please let me have this one at least.

“No.”

“Excuse me, I’m talking to you here.”

That woman growled as she grabbed my shoulder and forced me to face her. I winced as I felt her nails dig into the skin on my arm. The grip on Jeongin’s sleeve tightened as I felt him try to move once more at the sound of my pain. Why does he have to choose to be stubborn at the worst times? If my mind wasn’t dealing with several things at once I would’ve acknowledged the flutter of my heart at Jeongin trying to stand up for me. Instead I have to deal with my crazy family.

“Of course sticking to a man just like your-”

“I’m sorry for wasting your time and food on me when I wasn’t able to do it so I’ll talk to grandma on my own and do it properly, okay?” I cut off before she started on her tirade about my mother.

“I expect results this time, not like last year where all you gave us were lies. I don’t think you want a repeat of that now do we? Or will you run to one of those boys you keep around? This one, the neighbor… or will it be that boy you went to after you were thrown away?”

“Don’t bring up unrelated parties just because I didn’t do what you want.”

“Watch your tone brat. Everything you have now was built off of my late husband’s money, don’t forget that. If it wasn’t for that witch liking you so much you would’ve stayed as the garbage you are.”

“I understand, may I take my leave now?” I caught myself falling back into my formal speech pattern and internally scolded myself getting scared back into old habits.

She turned on her heel and waved her hand in dismissal. Once we were outside it felt like the elephant on my back finally decided to leave and my legs nearly gave out on me. The only reason I was still standing was because Jeongin had a cautious hold on me. After a moment I straightened up as I tried to center myself again but Jeongin’s watchful eyes stayed trained on me to catch a falter which pushed me to hide it deeper.

“You okay?”

“For the most part,” I smile weakly before trying to joke it off. “Well that could’ve gone worse.”

“Worse than that? That family really is something isn’t it?”

“You don’t even know the half of it.”

Once the cab came we were submerged in silence as I closed my eyes and rested my head against the window, listening to the sound of cars driving by. Jeongin asked if I wanted to grab food or something since he noticed I didn’t eat much at the manor but I just shook my head. Most of his attempts to check my condition were answered with a movement of my head, my mind too tired to function. I know there was a lot he wanted to ask, the questions bubbled behind his eyes, but I was glad he refrained. Too much had already happened, I didn’t really feel up to reliving my dark past with someone on top of that. There was a long pause before he tried to speak again but what he chose to speak about made me wide awake.

“My parents got divorced and shortly after both of them found new families. As proof of their broken marriage, neither of them knew what to do with me so they let me do what I wanted without much of a care. On the other hand my new siblings were policed and catered to.”

I looked at him but his eyes were trained out the window but that only gave him an even lonelier glow every time light streaked across his face from the streetlights. I don’t know what came over me, but the question slipped out without much thought.

“Do they love you?”

“Yeah… I guess. Now whether it’s out of obligation or genuine love, who knows? I’ve been left alone for far too long to figure it out.”

“Is that how Gahyeon comes in?”

“She brought color back to my life. I am who I am today because of her.”

“You said that last time too,” I smiled softly.

This time it was his turn to look at me in surprise. Well this is the first time I’ve hinted at what was said that night, I had no energy to play games right now so it is what it is. With the direction this conversation was going there was one more thing I wanted to ask.

“There’s no way to convince you not to leave the pub, is there?”

“Not really… What happened to your big talk about fate? Won’t I still be seeing you?”

Even though his tone was light hearted there was a finality to his words. Even though I hated pity and the look on people’s faces as they give it to you I couldn’t help but look at Jeongin like that. That girl’s feelings are already so strong for Jaehyung and knowing who he is, there won’t be any red flags that would deter her affection. This was like fighting a one-man battle with only a sword while everyone else had guns. Before he could notice, I turned away and looked out the window.

“Of course you’ll still see me, even if fate didn’t allow it,” I mumbled the second half to myself as we fell back into silence.

Over the next few weeks a lot of things changed. Jeongin resigned from the pub and helpfully offered his close friend Seungmin to fill his place. Through Changbin I heard that Jeongin had secured a place in his dad’s company although he’ll have to build his way up. These were the times I was glad I was best friends with the son of a big advertising firm that represents various companies. I also did as told and talked up Youngho to grandma a few times when we met for tea but she knew what was going on. Luckily she said she’d handle it and I’ve been left alone so far. Although that was only a small plus with all this work this semester is bringing since it’s filled with my major courses. Thus my life became work, when I had the chance, and studying.

Like tonight. I should be at the welcoming party they’re finally holding for Seungmin but instead I’m stuck in a café working on a group project. I was either doing their work for them or proofreading every little thing and my stress level was at maximum. After having to practically rewrite another paragraph from one of my groupmates, I excused myself for some air and went to hide beside the stairs that were next to the café. I stuck close to the wall hidden by the base of the stairs to pretend I didn’t exist for a bit and regain my sanity. The white noise of my surroundings gave me a sense of peace that I hadn’t felt in a while. Taking in the sound around me with my eyes closed, I caught heavy steps coming down the stairs close to me before they abruptly stopped and I heard a voice I would recognize anywhere.

“I can’t believe I did that…”

#stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids au #skz #skz imagines #skz au #yang jeongin #jeongin imagines #jeongin au #server! jeongin x regular! y/n #my writing #wslwe?

5 notes · View notes

anonymoustalks · 4 years

Text

They also didn't want me to speak Korean outside of the house because "in America you speak only English."

(6-17-20) You both like Politics.

You: hi

Stranger: Hello

You: What is something important to you?

Stranger: My job.

You: Mhm how so?

Stranger: Because otherwise I wouldn't have been able to buy a house, save money, and have dinner every night.

You: Very reasonable

You: and grounded

Stranger: Considering that I grew up low-income, it only makes sense that I skimp and save.

You: ah yeah, that helps gives perspective for sure

Stranger: All I can really say is not having food every day isn't fun.

You: Mhm did you grow up not being able to eat every day?

Stranger: Yes.

You: What was that like?

Stranger: Hell.

You: Yeah I can imagine

Stranger: The savior was USDA subsidized cheese.

You: are you us-based?

Stranger: I was. I relocated to South Korea in 2007.

You: mhm was the food insecurity in the SU or south korea?

Stranger: The US.

You: where were you specifically, if you don't mind me asking?

Stranger: Detroit until I was 8, Denver from 8-22.

You: mhm

Stranger: You couldn't pay me to move back to the US, in spite of the fact that my parents always insisted that it was better than Korea.

You: Mhm I'd love to hear anything that you're willing to share

Stranger: Well, what do you want to hear?

You: well, everything lol

You: but I guess we don't have time lol

Stranger: What parts do you want to hear?

You: I never personally experienced food insecurity

You: or the circumstances around that

You: and what your family did

You: and I guess why you moved

Stranger: Food insecurity is hell. My parents simply lived with it and ignored it.

You: as context, I'm guessing your family were immigrants?

Stranger: I moved for job security and so I wouldn't face discrimination in the US. Yes, they immigrated from Korea.

You: mhm

You: I'm not really that familiar with detroit and things, but I feel like the naive question I'm sure you get is what about food banks?

You: or other stuff

Stranger: Not a thing back in 1980s/90s Detroit outside of churches, which my parents stayed away from.

You: ahh I didn't know

You: so I'm guessing subsidized school lunches probably also weren't a thing?

Stranger: Those were, but my parents didn't apply for those until we moved to Denver.

You: sounds really rough

Stranger: They didn't apply mostly for fear of deportation

You: undocumented?

Stranger: They were documented, the documentation wasn't always fully valid.

You: ah..

You: student visa?

Stranger: Green cards.

You: mhm I guess it's just so different it's hard for me to imagine

Stranger: Needless to say, people who work on private railyards don't make much.

You: my goodness

Stranger: About 50 cents an hour back in the 80s and 90s.

You: yeah... I just can't imagine

You: how did your family end up moving to denver?

Stranger: My father's job at the railyard was replaced by a sensor and they were concerned that Detroit was becoming too unsafe.

You: mhm this was the big crime era too?

Stranger: Yes. And we lived in a housing project that was effectively where you went to buy drugs or die.

You: buy drugs or die?

Stranger: Lot of dealers, criminals, and bait apartments in there.

You: okay, was just slightly confused about the wording if they made you buy or something

Stranger: The people in the apartment next to us were dealers.

You: mhm

Stranger: The Detroit PD raided the wrong unit, not theirs.

You: .......

Stranger: And that's why I don't respect the Detroit PD.

You: yeah that's terrible

Stranger: We did get money from them after it was found that they broke the most expensive thing in the apartment.

You: it's just so hard for me to imagine what your parents went through

You: coming to the US

You: and all of this

Stranger: I can provide some more insight if you'd like.

You: anything you want to share is good

Stranger: They had this twisted perspective on American customs and holidays.

You: meaning?

Stranger: They didn't get any of them per-se "right."

You: huh

Stranger: Xmas? Get up at 5 AM and eat a pack of Twinkies. "We're going to work."

Stranger: New year's? Get up at 5 AM and eat nothing. "We're going to work"

Stranger: They also told me to not get good grades, because "Americans don't"

You: huh that's unexpected to me...

Stranger: I got all A+s on the report cards, and even skipped a lot of grades after moving to Denver.

You: mhm good for you!

Stranger: They also didn't want me to speak Korean outside of the house because "in America you speak only English."

You: I'm trying to imagine things through their eyes

Stranger: What are you effectively seeing?

You: uhh very poor, desperate, scared

Stranger: That about summed them up.

You: yeah.

Stranger: Even now, they refuse help from me.

You: mhm... that sounds kinda vaguely asian

You: are they still in the us?

Stranger: Yes.

Stranger: Still living in Denver, too.

You: what did they do in denver?

Stranger: My mother is a cashier at a Wal-Mart, and my father is a gun salesman, since he became a citizen in 2012.

You: mhm

Stranger: They did let me pay off their mortgage in 2011, though.

You: oh that's good

You: I can imagine your parents being very proud of you

You: are you an only child or with siblings?

Stranger: I'm an only child.

Stranger: I doubt they could ever afford a second.

You: right

Stranger: Hell, they were still paying down the bill from my birth until I was 10.

You: yeah asian-american poverty is just something I'm so removed from it's just I don't even know what to say

Stranger: That was back when Koreans were below Hispanics on the social ladder

You: right... I didn't realize detroit or denver had any kind of korean population

Stranger: Not really, they just ended up in those places because there were jobs.

You: mhm

You: so you went through school in denver, graduated, did college, and then moved to korea?

Stranger: I went through high school in Denver, graduated, college fast-tracked from age 14, medical school from 16-22. Then got the hell out of the US.

You: oh my goodness that's incredible

Stranger: I started high school at age 8 due to the district insisting on testing me.

You: yeah um I didn't even realize that kind of thing was possible

Stranger: It is, and its just not common

Stranger: I learned a lot from the books my parents had around the apartment.

You: yeah

Stranger: Since all that they had were my father's textbooks from college and a few legal help books.

Stranger: And operating manuals, and legal documentation.

You: mhm it just sounds like such a whirlwind of stuff to go through

You: anyhow what brings you to the politics tag?

Stranger: I like politics, always have.

You: on omegle? haha ^^

Stranger: I like most politics.

You: ^^ I guess I would have imagined that most ordinary ppl who like politics would be on reddit I guess or something

You: unless they have something strange going for them lol

Stranger: I have nothing going for me politics-wise.

You: hm, but other things?

You: sorry if I'm prying

Stranger: In the medical field, yes.

You: huh?

Stranger: I'm a general practitioner, and a tenured one at that, so I'm among the ~150 important people at the KCDC.

You: oh what I meant is that I'm just surprised someone like you would be on omegle that's all haha ^^

You: since we're pretty trashy here haha

Stranger: Nowhere near as trashy as other people I've encountered

You: mhm maybe

Stranger: Namely the Detroit police department SWAT team

You: >.<

You: so do you have a list of political issues you care about the most?

Stranger: Yeah, mostly not defunding the KCDC.

You: do you get a lot of koreans on omegle?

Stranger: No, I've never encountered another Korean.

You: oh okay

You: yeah I don't think I've ever run into anyone from east asia

You: many from india though

Stranger: In case you're wondering, the KCDC is basically Korea's healthcare provider, and disease/drug regulator.

You: yeah I googled it

You: I thought korea did very well with coronavirus testing

Stranger: We did.

You: why are they trying to defund you?

Stranger: Because they want to stop covering things that many Koreans rely on, such as vision coverage (I benefit from it), as well as coverage of OTC drugs in hospitals.

You: hmm how is there not popular backlash?

You: I thought there was a general political adage that it's easy to give benefits, but hard to repeal them

Stranger: They've kept it under wraps by putting funding changes in fine print.

You: funding charges as in...?

Stranger: Funneling the money into reserves.

You: oh okay, it might be a bit over my head ^^

Stranger: Basically, the KCDC is funded in USD, so we can buy equipment without exchange rate issues, and they view the USD as a finite recourse. Its not, since saving it depreciates the value for us long-term.

You: huuh I didn't know that at all

Stranger: Meanwhile, I have to fight with a government-paid vision provider to get my new glasses.

You: btw why did your parents dislike korea so much?

Stranger: Korea was different in the 70s and 80s. The leaders were totalitarians mostly installed by the US. The economy was garbage, and it was impossible to get a stable job outside of manufacturing or the armed forces.

You: ah okay, thanks for the summary

Stranger: They were middle class in Korea, too. And they left that all for the US.

You: yeah... I didn't realize the exchange rate was so steep back then too

Stranger: Most of the reason they were poor in the US was because of their limited English.

You: Ah okay

You: What kind of conversations do you normally get into here on omegle?

Stranger: Usually something that ends with "the US owns Korea."

You: what?

Stranger: The Republicans in the US have this twisted idea that America owns Korea.

You: huh

You: and you enjoy talking to people like that?

Stranger: No, but I like trying to talk sense into them.

You: ^^;; it sounds like quite an argument

Stranger: And its hilarious to me.

You: ah yeah, I guess people do like the amusement

Stranger: I have spat out coffee laughing at their stupidity.

You: I think people come from very different places ^^

Stranger: To some of them its a foreign concept that people can make more money in countries other than the US.

You: I think it depends in part on people's skill sets

Stranger: They also don't understand how foreign currency works, since, sometimes if they ask about my pay, I give it to them in KRW.

You: lol

Stranger: They think I'm lying because the number in KRW exceeds 350 billion

Stranger: KRW is counted in a strange manner.

You: hm? how so?

Stranger: 1,000 KRW= 1 USD (one cheap meal). 100 KRW= 10 cents (which is the same cost as a burger here), 10 KRW= 1 cent (half a bottle of cola).

Stranger: You have to know it to recognize it on site.

You: huh...

Stranger: We make western money but don't pay western prices.

You: I'm just slightly confused basically

Stranger: McDonald's is expensive here, with a meal being $8.

Stranger: The only things that really cost western prices are, well... western things.

You: mhm right

You: I feel like cost-of-living in different places is always a little hard for me to grasp

Stranger: I find it amazing that Coke is considered the cheap beverage here and in the US

You: I have a suspicion that in many circumstances people are just buying the bottle

Stranger: Still, I have always viewed it as expensive.

You: I mean if you look at the price of a 2L bottle versus a small bottle?

Stranger: Yes, but, still, too pricey when I was young.

You: the drink itself must be inexpensive to manufacture

You: but the retail price is elevated substantially

Stranger: My parents always viewed it as "why spend a buck on a 2L when Faygo is 75 cents, we can barely afford it as is"

Stranger: Which ingrained it as being a luxury product in my mind

You: lol

You: idk it's cheaper than milk, juice... so many things

You: I feel like it must be bad for public health

Stranger: Faygo is and always has been cheaper

Stranger: Probably because of competition

You: oh we don't have them here

Stranger: Faygo is highly regionalized to Detroit.

You: not distributed in my area

Stranger: In fairness, it helps the cost when its bottled a few blocks from the grocer.

You: I guess that's true

You: but there are always discount soft drink brands too

You: although I was never pressed enough at cash to really look very hard at the difference between a dollar or like 90 cents...

Stranger: My parents had to look carefully at those prices

You: yeah

Stranger: What would be 45 minutes in the grocer for a person who can grab-and-go items would be 1-2 hours for us.

You: mhm

Stranger: Which is why I buy the same three things at the grocer, so I don't need to price compare

You: mhm I feel spoiled because I don't really do much coupon shopping

Stranger: For what its worth, they did get the one symbol of wealth that Korean-Americans viewed as a symbol of wealth at the time.

You: which was?

Stranger: Color television set.

You: oh

You: I think you are around a decade older than me so it's hard for me to compare and contrast

Stranger: I'm 35.

You: yup

Stranger: So, I have faint memories of the 1980s.

You: I was born int he 90's

Stranger: The 90s were a good time.

You: I have faint memories of the 90's lol ^^

Stranger: That was when we got a computer

You: sounds about right

Stranger: My uncle imported KDS systems to the US, so we got that for free.

You: huh

Stranger: KDS became Emachines, a company you might have heard of

You: nope!

Stranger: Your household probably didn't have to buy whatever the cheapest system at Wal-Mart was.

You: uhh I think our first computer was some form of macintosh

Stranger: Which are systems for the wealthy next to Korean imports.

You: yeah it's really interesting to look back at this stuff

Stranger: I sometimes wish I could go back in time, but then I realize that'd effectively be starting from scratch.

You: uh yeah, that doesn't sound very fun

Stranger: There's no real reason to look back on the past for me.

You: yeah I don't really look back this far normally either

You: do you still speak much english in everyday life btw?

Stranger: Yes, on a daily basis. To the point where I still sound American when I speak it.

You: Oh I didn't know that

Stranger: I have no issues with speaking either language, luckily.

You: mhm that really helps

You: how is your social life?

Stranger: Basically zero friends in Korea.

You: aww...

You: is there like a barrier?

You: being foreign or something?

Stranger: No, since I am not foreign in the eyes of either the Korean government nor the people.

You: ah, so you're just saying it's just you? ^^

Stranger: Yes.

You: introverted?

Stranger: Yes.

You: mhm I wish you the best!

Stranger: My parents weren't too hot on the idea of me ever having friends.

You: oh...

You: you're not around them anymroe!

You: seriously, are you doing okay?

Stranger: I'm doing fine.

You: okay ^^

You: I think it's different to be happy and introverted vs. unhappy and introverted, if you know what I mean

Stranger: Not to mention, after I moved to Denver, it became harder to make friends.

You: hm, why?

Stranger: I was 8 and in high school. Take a guess.

You: ah...

You: yeah that threw me for a loop

You: ordinarily I thought most school systems didn't allow their kids to skip too far for well... I guess social reasons?

You: idk if things changed or how things happen on way or another

Stranger: And being Korean in a majority hispanic school didn't help, either.

You: mhm

Stranger: Since that was basically right after the LA riots, which made Koreans and hispanics hate each other.

You: right...

Stranger: I did get bullied for that.

You: :c

Stranger: Metal lunch trays don't feel too good in the back of the head

You: that's terrible

Stranger: And neither does getting tied to a chair with an extension cord

You: I just can't imagine

You: people just...

Stranger: You'd think they'd show mercy on someone effectively half their age and size.

You: yeah

You: also for some reason I thought of denver as kind of like a progressive white place

You: but idk if that's just more recently

Stranger: That's modern Denver.

You: yeah

Stranger: Back then it was a rougher place.

You: mhm

You: I think you have so much in your past

You: it's a lot

Stranger: A lot of people do.

You: mhm

Stranger: Not everyone can have a pretty story filled with bubblegum and rainbows.

You: yeah...

You: it's just sad

You: or well, so many things that America turns a blind eye too

You: even now

You: a kind of semi-willful ignorance

You: in favor of narratives I guess

Stranger: It would've been nice if I didn't have to carry a revolver everywhere.

You: huh you were licensed to carry as a kid?

Stranger: From when I was 18.

You: mhm

Stranger: My parents made me get licensed out of pure fear.

You: mhm

You: idk if it's your generation, your family's socioeconomic status, location, or all of the above, but your story is just so much more raw and dramatic than those of other asian americans I've heard

Stranger: Probably a mix.

Stranger: My experiences are in-line with your average LA Korean in the early 90s.

You: right

You: I just didn't know the differences could be so stark through one or two generations

Stranger: Well, remember, a riot happened that moved the Koreans up the ladder.

You: yeah

You: or maybe there's a rift between asian americans who were hear longer versus the large influx that came in the 90s

Stranger: Probably that, since not a lot came in the 80s.

You: yeah

Stranger: I remember the first time I visited Korea, it was like a different planet.

You: mhm

You: (not that I have any idea lol XD)

Stranger: My uncle took me to Seoul in 1995, which was when I realized that Korea wasn't what my parents made it out to be (they made it out to effectively be a 3rd world country).

You: mhm

Stranger: I'd say it was that visit that made me want to leave the US

You: you went through a lot

Stranger: I do consider some of it to be a lot.

You: have you ever thought about writing it up?

You: idk assembling it into a narrative of some kind?

Stranger: I have, but I'm not comfortable with it being on paper beyond legal documents.

You: mhm okay yeah

Stranger: For example, in the file cabinet next to me I have every single even slightly legal document from when I was born until I was 30.

You: mhm... I should do a better job of getting my paperwork together

Stranger: Just opening it, there's three folders of medical papers.

You: hospital?

Stranger: No, at home. The folders even include every payment on every medical bill from back then.

You: ah I meant, you were hospitalized often?

Stranger: No. Mostly just payments from my birth, as well as vision.

You: mhm

Stranger: The vision papers are expansive.

You: right

Stranger: Considering that I've needed to wear glasses since I was 2.

You: what??

Stranger: Effectively, my vision is garbage, and has been ever since.

You: so it's getting really late for me, but I wanted to thank you for sharing everything that you did ^^

Stranger: Have a nice night.

You: thank you!

You: best of luck with everything and I hope you're able to make more friends!

Stranger has disconnected.

#omegle #race #racism #korean american #korea #food insecurity #immigrant #asian american #bullying #medicine #kcdc #guns

2 notes · View notes

freedomartspress · 4 years

Text

Three Poems — Tongo Eisen Martin

Kick Drum Only

All street life to a certain extent starts fair

Sometimes with a spiritual memory even

Predawn soul-clap/ your father dying even

Maybe I’ve pushed the city too far

My sensitivities to landfill districting and minstrel whistles/

White supremacist graffiti on westbound rail guards

-all overcome and reauthored

The garbage is growing voices

Condensed Marxism

modal gangsterism for a warrior-depressive

Underpass in my pocket

because I am a deity

or decent bid on the Panther name

revolutionary violence that chose its own protagonists

or muted stage of genius

A merciful Marxism

Disquieted home life

Or metaphor for relaxing next to a person

Who is relaxing next to a gun

I stare at my father for a few seconds

Then return to my upbringing

Return to the souls of Ohio Black folks

Revolution is damn near pagan at this point

You know what the clown wants? The respect of the ant.

Wants a pen cap full of bullets

Wants to see their ancestors in broad daylight

I am not tired of these rooms; just tired of the world that give them a relativity

My only change of clothes prosecuted

The government has finally learned how to write poems

shoot-outs that briefly align…

that make up a parable

white bodies are paid well, I posit

do white men actually even have leaders?

all white people are white men

white men will only ever be metaphors

all I do is practice, Lord

A rat pictures a river

Can almost taste the racial divide

Can almost roll a family member’s head into a city hall legislative chamber

Knows who in this good book will fly

I have decided not to talk out of anger ever again, Lord

Met my wife at the same time I met new audience members for our pain

We passed each other cigarettes and watched cops win

A city gone uniquely linear

Harlem of the West due a true universe

“I will always remember you in fancy clothes,” my wife said

so here I sit… twisting in silk ideation

My rifle made of tar

My targets made of an honest language

This San Francisco poetry is how God knows that it is me whining

Writing among the lesser-respected wolves

Lesser-observed militarization

Dixie-less prison bookkeeping/I mean the California gray-coats are coming

lynch mob gossip and bourgeois debt collection

I mean, it’s tempting to change professions mid-poem

in a Chicago briefing, a white sergeant saying, “blank slate for all of us after this Black organizer is dead.”

standard academics toasting two-buck wine at the tank parade

bay of nothing, Lord

nuclear cobblestones, gunline athleticism

and the last of the inherited asthma

children given white dolls to play with and fear

facial expressions borrowed from rich people’s shoe strings

I can hear hate

And teach hate

And call tools by people names

And name people dead to themselves

no one getting naturalized except federal agents soon

carving the equator into throats soon

I’m sorry to make you relive all of this, Lord

pre-dawn monarchy

friends putting up politician posters then snorting the remainder of the paste

minstrel scripts shoveled into the walls by their elders

my children sharpening quarters on the city’s edge

For these audiences

I project myself into a ghost like state

For these gangsters, I do the same

every now and then, we take a nervous look east

Sleep becomes Christ

Sleep starts growing a racial identity

do you ever spiral, Lord?

has the gang-age betrayed us?

be patient with my poems, Lord

So much pain

there is a point to crime…

There has to be if race traitors come with it

Lord, is that my revolver in your hand?

Better presidents than these have yawned at cages

Have called us holy slaves

Filled the school libraries with cop documentaries

Baby, I don’t have money for food

I have no present moment at all

I Do Not Know the Spelling of Money

I go to the railroad tracks

And follow them to the station of my enemies

A cobalt-toothed man pitches pennies at my mugshot negative

All over the united states, there are

Toddlers in the rock

I see why everyone out here got in the big cosmic basket

And why blood agreements mean a lot

And why I get shot back at

I understand the psycho-spiritual refusal to write white history or take the glass freeway

White skin tattooed on my right forearm

Ricochet sewage near where I collapsed

into a rat-infested manhood

My new existence as living graffiti

In the kitchen with

a lot of gun cylinders to hack up

House of God in part

No cops in part

My body brings down the Christmas

The new bullets pray over blankets made from old bullets

Pray over the 28th hour’s next beauty mark

Extrajudicial confederate statue restoration

the waist band before the next protest poster

By the way,

Time is not an illusion, your honor

I will return in a few whirlwinds

I will save your desk for last

You are witty, your honor

You’re moving money again, your honor

It is only raining one thing: non-white cops

And prison guard shadows

Reminding me of

Spoiled milk floating on an oil spill

A neighborhood making a lot of fuss over its demise

A new lake for a Black Panther Party

Malcom X’s ballroom jacket slung over my son’s shoulders

Pharmacy doors mid-slide

The figment of village

a noon noose to a new white preacher

Wiretaps in the discount kitchen tile

-All in an abstract painting of a president

Bought slavers some time, didn’t it?

The tantric screeches of military bolts and Election-Tuesday cars

A cold-blooded study in leg irons

Leg irons in tornado shelters

Leg irons inside your body

Proof that some white people have actually fondled nooses

That sundown couples

made their vows of love over

opaque peach plastic

and bolt action audiences

Man, the Medgar Evers-second is definitely my favorite law of science

Fondled news clippings and primitive Methodists

My arm changes imperialisms

Simple policing vs. Structural frenzies

Elementary school script vs. Even whiter white spectrums

Artless bleeding and

the challenge of watching civilians think

“terrible rituals they have around the corner. They let their elders beg for public mercy…beg for settler polity”

“I am going to go ahead and sharpen these kids’ heads into arrows myself and see how much gravy spills out of family crests.”

Modern fans of war

What with their t-shirt poems

And t-shirt guilt

And me, having on the cheapest pair of shoes on the bus,

I have no choice but to read the city walls for signs of my life

The Chicago Prairie Fire

First, I must apologize to the souls of the house

I am wearing the cheek bones of the mask only

Pill bottle, my name is yours

Name tagged on the side of a factory of wrists

Teeth of the mask now

Back of the head of the mask now

New phase of anti-anthropomorphism fending for real faces

Stuck with one of those cultures that believes I chose this family

I am not creative

Just the silliest of the revolutionaries

My blood drying on

my only jacket

just as God got playful

the police state’s psychic middlemen

Evangelizing for the creation of an un-masses

An un-Medgar

Blood of a lamb less racialized

or awesome prison sentence

Good God

Elder-abuse hired for the low

dog eat genius

Right angle made between a point

On a Louisiana plantation

And 5-year old’s rubber ball

3 feet high and falling

like a deportee plane

to complete my interpretation

(of garden variety genocide)

I am small talk

about loving your enemies

A little more realistically

About paper tigers

And also gold…

I need my left hand back

I broke my neck on the piano keys

Found paradise in a fistfight

Maybe I should check into the Cuba line

Watching the universe’s last metronomes

some call Black Jacobins

Just wait…

These religions will start resigning in a decade or two

Some colorfully

Some transactional-ly

In a cotton gothic society

Class betrayal gone glassless/ I mean ironically/ my window started fogging over too

Wondering which Haiti will get me through this winter

Which poem houses souls

Which socialist breakthroughs

Breakthroughs like ten steps back

Then finally stillness

Stillness

Then stillness among families

a John Brown biography takes a bow

I’m up next to introduce Prosser to Monk

I remember childhood

Remember the word “Childhood” being a beginning

Scribbling on an amazing grace

I rented this body from some circumference of slavery

Remember being kicked out of the Midwest

Strange fruit theater

Lithium and circuses

Likeminded stomachs

The ruling class blessing their blank checks with levy foam…

with opioid tea

Sentient dollar bills yelling to each other pocket to pocket

Cello stands in the precinct for accompanying counterrevolutionaries

My mother raised me with a simple pain

A poet loses his mind, you know, like the room has weather

Or first-girlfriend gravity

Police-knock gravity

Mind-game gravity

Or revolution languishing behind

The sugar in my good friend’s mind

“The difference between me and you

Is that the madness

Wants me forever”

A pair of apartments

Defining both my family

And political composure

Books behind my back

Bail money paved into the streets

Playing:

Euphoria

Cliché

Bracing for the medicine’s recoil

Sharing a dirty deli sandwich with my friends

Black Jacobins

Underground topography

Or grandmother’s hands

Psychology of the mask now

Teeth of the mask again

—

Originally from San Francisco, Tongo Eisen-Martin is a movement worker and educator who has organized against mass incarceration and extra-judicial killing of Black people throughout the United States. His latest curriculum on extrajudicial killing of Black people, We Charge Genocide Again, has been used as an educational and organizing tool throughout the country. His book of poems, Someone’s Dead Already was nominated for a California Book Award.

3 notes · View notes

theprettysetterclub · 4 years

Text

Hello^^

May I request two matchups a romantic and a platonic?? I’m female, straight, average height, and in my early twenties. I had long curly brown hair, but I cropped it short on a whim and I’m loving it! I’ve got green eyes that tend to change color depending on what I wear. I’m a rather soft spoken individual and I’ve been told my voice is soothing to listen too. Personality wise I’m your typical introvert^^ shy when I first meet you but as we become friends I’ll come out of my shell. I’m also incredibly easy to fluster…I blush soo easily T-T…While I’m most comfortable with my family and close friends I don’t mind meeting new people but I kinda have to be force into it^^’I love reading and I’ve been known to mildly obsess over my preferred fandoms. I enjoy cooking and love spending time with the kiddos I nanny! I also love the outdoors! Walking around the countryside, watching fireflies and the night sky, or splashing around in a creek equal hours of fun in my opinion! I also have horrible balance and have been known to run into walls, doorframes, counters, corners, and people on multiple occasions welp I think that’s about it^_^ <3

Gah! Sorry for all the trouble!!! Hope you’re having a lovely morning/day/night!

@leandersluckylady YOU’RE SO CUTE WTF,,, i got so soft reading this sdkldlkj also i have no balance either,,, solidarity

i hope you like these? (also that dog,,, if they’re yours PLEASE give them a good belly rub from me hhh)

for your romantic match, i choose…

oikawa tooru!

✧ i had such a hard time choosing someone for you because i kept changing my mind (because i was like “well all the boys would obviously adore her”) but i settled on the garbage man himself,,,

✧ you’d be a good grounding force for him,,, you’re calming and soft-spoken, and you’re capable of being a voice of reason when he’s overworking himself. he needs that, and he would be immeasurably grateful to you. sometimes, he just needs to be held and told that it’s okay, you know?

✧ he loves spending his downtime with you. he’s particularly fond of just laying his head in your lap and listening to you talk. he feels more comfortable with you, and he can really let his walls down. he loves it when you read to him while he’s in that position. although be warned; he usually falls asleep

✧ but soft as he can be, oikawa loves seeing you flustered. he’s just like that. he revels in making you blush, and he can be kind of relentless. iwaizumi tries to stick up for you every now and then (bless his heart), but oikawa’ll just pout at him and go “but she’s so cute!” he’s honestly a menace

✧ he also just teases you because he gets flustered himself, and he struggles with expressing his fondness for you. so sometimes you’ll just get roasted for having bad balance because oikawa’s heart’s beating a little too fast and he doesn’t know how to stop it skldjfsklj

✧ but listen, he just thinks you’re so cute and he could listen to you talk about the things you’re passionate about for hours. whether it be your fandoms or the book your currently reading or something else entirely -- oikawa will be sure to try and engage you in proper conversation about it. and he gets kind of emotional when he’s watching you play with the kids? he also gets a bit emotional when you cook for him. like “you made this? for me?” mayhaps there’s a tear in his eye. he’s just,,, so fond.

✧ please drag him to the country every once in a while salkjdldk he needs to calm down and get away from all the stresses in his life. he just needs to relax, and i think you’d do a pretty good job at helping him do that? because really, is there anything more romantic than watching fireflies together or walking the countryside? i don’t think so

✧ i think you’d also be a really good balance for each other? as i said, you ground him, while he makes up the more ‘confident’, extroverted side of the relationship. i don’t quite know how to word it, but your energies complement each other? (iwa adores you, btw; he thinks you’re a great influence on oikawa, and can apply a softer touch when needed)

✧ can you tell that i’m very passionate about this couple? because i am you two would be adorable and my heart can only handle so much of this asklfjd--

other matches!

✧ kuroo tetsurou: he was a strong contender, let me tell you – kuroo’s very good at maintaining the balance between being a good grounding force while also being a big tease. like oikawa, he loves getting you all flustered slksdklj but! i think you’d still get along really well? he’d like talking to you about your passions, going on adventures around the countryside with you, trading books, etc. he’d be a very engaged partner, and i think you’d have the sort of relationship where it really feels like you’re best friends? also, lots and lots of stargazing dates. he’ll keep trying to find the constellations and failing skldj

✧ sawamura daichi: LISTEN he very nearly won,,, i’m very passionate about this match too, trust me,,, you’d just be such a cute couple? daichi needs a detox a lot of the time, and you sound like detox in human form dsdlkj you’d be a very comforting persence for him, and you’d really help him relax every once in a while. but just imagine cooking together, going on walks together (i can see daichi being into hiking, so if that’s your sort of thing, expect a lot of weekend trips to the mountains),,, i also think he’d be great with kids, so he’d happily nanny with you! also i feel like he’s a step away from being a true country boy so dsklsdfj

the platonic match is just under the cut!

for your platonic match, i choose…

yachi hitoka!

✧ please look after my daughter,,, be a good older sister i’m counting on you sdlkjfdlj

✧ as with oikawa, you’d be a good calming force for her! she can get pretty anxious at times, but your soft-spoken nature can help bring her down to earth. even just talking to her about something else can help her relax.

✧ better yet, she finds you very comfortable to talk to? i think you being a bit on the shyer, more introverted side would make you less intimidating. that’s really important for her, because it makes her feel like she can voice her thoughts and she’ll be heard?

✧ and i think you’d understand her pretty well! i don’t have a strong argumentative basis for this, but i get the vibe you would? especially since you know what it’s like to be shy and soft-spoken, and yachi can have some trouble with voicing her feelings sometimes,,,

✧ she’d love trading books with you! i feel like yachi would be a big reader, so you absolutely have someone to talk to about them! you two would get into the most in-depth conversations about novels you’ve read, and whenever one of you have finished a novel it’s immediately handed over

✧ oh but imagine the two of you cooking for the team! whether it’s the night before a game (or five years into the future for a reunion), you and yachi’d definitely get together to prepare a good lunch. it’s important bonding time, and i think you’d both have a lot of fun preparing food for your loved ones?

✧ most flustered friendship! endless blushing whenever you two compliment each other,,, definitely gotten into compliment wars before. yachi’s just a very fond person (like oikawa ljds) so she often can’t help but have something nice to say at every moment,,, so you better be ready to throw a compliment back!

✧ please get her out the house sometimes, it’ll do her some good! i think she’d really enjoy it? i can see her getting all starry-eyed when she sees some fireflies, and i think she’d like being able to let loose in the creek. the country is just,,, far away from the stresses of daily life and the things that’d be causing her anxiety.

✧ i love her so much she’d be the cutest best friend,,, please protect sdljsdlkj

other matches!

✧ sugawara koushi: he nearly edged yachi out,,, nearly,,, i think you and suga would get along wonderfully! you seem like such a kind person, and that’s something he’d really appreciate about you. but, he can be a bit of a gremlin sometimes, so you haven’t escaped him trying to get you all flustered (usually by teasing you about your boyfriend,,, he does that a lot). also roasts you for having no balance hhh,,, i think he’d also like going to the country! i see him as an astronomy guy; so get ready to be quizzed constantly on which constellation is which and which planets can currently be seen!

✧ akaashi keiji: he’s very different from the other two but skljdslj you seem relaxing to be around, and that’s what akaashi needs! his other best friend is an absolute whirlwind of a person, so your introverted, soft-spoken personality is a nice reprieve. he’s quite analytical, so i think he’d have an easy time talking to you about your interests, even if he doesn’t personally know all that much about them. also, i see him as being into reading? so he’s another one that’d love trading books for you. he likes to get your opinions on them, especially when he’s an editor.

#haikyuu matchups #oikawa matchup #yachi matchup #submission

2 notes · View notes

nastyaphrodite · 5 years

Text

The Lion King (2019)

• I'm already emotional and it hasn't even started. • I'm five years old again. • I'm already ugly crying. • Planning a trip to Africa ASAP. • Spot on intro; the attention to the original detail. Amazing. • CIRCLE OF LIIIIIIFEEEE. • MUFASA! • Rafiki!! My heart. • Queen Sarabi. *heart eyes* • Baby Simba!!!! • Still crying. • Simba's displaying. Super emotional. I can't-- • I want ten Simbas. • The sunlight on him .... poetic cinema. • THE TITLE SCENE. CHILLS. LITERAL CHILLS. • Currently speechless. • The effects are so good? Like, wow. • Here comes Scar, ready to ruin the perfect moment. • "Life's not fair ...." woah okay. • Oh, the new speech lines are good. • Zazu ... still prissy. • Hm, I don't know about Scar's voice. (he's still good though!) • Why didn't they get Jeremy Irons back? • James Earl Jones returns, praise be. • Bringing him back was the best choice they made. • "Tremendous respect for the Queen." THE SHADE. He so wants Sarabi. I need that new backstory Disney! • "Don't turn your back on me!" "IS THAT A CHALLENGE!" More chills. (better in the animation though). • "Again?" what do you mean?!?! what do you mean again?!?! Backstory! • "Simba will be your king." Mufasa foreshadowing majestically. • I do love Zazu. • Just magical. The emphasis on the stars. Beautiful. • Little Simba is adorable. • "Dad, dad, dad," cutest baby ever. • Majesty in the Sun. • "Everything the light touches." *tearing up again.* • James. Earl. Jones. • The effects are ... wow. • "At 4 a.m. there's nothing to tweet about!" Zazu making commentary on our social media use. Right on you funky little bird. • Simba and Mufasa are precious. • Sarabi leading the charge! We love a capable Queen. • Ay cositas! (about Simba) • Scar's SASS. • Oh crap. • He's so manipulative. • Scar remains the best villain. • Little Nala! u.u • "ZaZu?!?!" • "I could just molt." • Was Zazu that sassy in the original? • The Lions have ... some expressions. • "We are never getting married." Who's gonna tell them? • IJCWTBK was cute. • Nala's sassy too. Were they all this sassy? I live. • Is it weird that I still want to check out the Elephant Graveyard? • Nala has some sense. • Oh crap. • Uuu, they upgraded Shenzi. Main mama. • Oh she bad. • Who did her voice?! (it's Florence Kasumba. I want her voice cast in everything now.) • Oh mamaaaa. This is bad. • The power! The majesty. James Earl Jones kills it. • I need the hyena v. Lions backstory. How far back does the feud extend. What is the deal between Mufasa and Shenzi. Disney don't introduce new story lines if you can't expand on them! • The little paw in the big paw scene. • Crying again. • Their father and son time. • Sobbing. • "Look at the stars ..." • I am besotted. • "personal space!" • "I guess we'll eat you." Oh man that foreshadowing. • The new Be Prepared is lackluster? Is it his voice or something? • Jeremy Irons just can't be beat man, sorry. • Okay the chanting changed the game. • Dictator vibes coming on STRONG. • Me currently: :O • Oh you preciously naive baby. • His little roar. • Oh. • Oh no. • Not prepared for this. • Nooooooope. • ANXIETY. • Okay they do need more expressions. • Mufasa .... baby .... • no. • No. • Yes. • Oh I'm not going to hold back the tears that much longer. • Emotions are a whirlwind. • I'm not prepared. Nope. • THAT SCENE. • I'm openly weeping. • My shoulders feel so heavy. • I could murder that lion with my bare hands. • No wonder your original name means Garbage you crusty looking lion. • Oh my baby Simba. • "Kill him." *shook* • Are they actually going to lie to Shenzi? Lol • "It is with a heavy heart." *insert Khloe Kardashian's "LIIIIIIIIIAAAAAARRR" scream here* • Get my baby lion out of that desert! • Okay but Billy Eichner was a good choice for Timon. • Timon and Pumbaa are life. • "We're going to name him Fred." • "Hakuna Matata" • I'm back from the grief. • Baby Pumbaa! Oh my heeeart. • "It's an emotional story." (it's about him passing gas) • "I was always there for you and I resent that." TIMON I-- • How much does a trip to Africa actually cost?!?! • The bugs look disgusting, thank God. • SImba growing up! • I'm crying again. • The MOON. • I like Donald Glover's voice, I really do. • My heart feels full again. • "Oh now he's riffing!" • All that snide Timon and Pumbaa commentary, I love. • Oh girl, are the lionesses plotting? • BEYONCÉ?!?!?! • Sarabi conspiring? • Beyoncé's voice is fine for this role. Y'all just hating. • Sarabi's walk is still that girl. • "You chose Mufasa over me." Anyone would sis. • He really did want Sarabi but now he needs her. • Don't do it girl. • "I will never be your Queen." Yesssssss • Scar's absolutely brilliant, too bad I hate him. • Tension, anxiety ... but come through Nala. • Beyoncé's voice is so soothing. • Zazu is so brave in this movie and I love it. • Simba out here living his best life. • "You do you Simba." • Their cuddling is precious. I need hours of this. • Awh they hurt my baby's feelings. • Oh gross, but I guess. It's accurate? • Is Rafiki really going too ... ok. • "Simba is alive" Chills. Tears. Joy. • "The Lion Sleeps Tonight" will be stuck in my head for days. • DAMN GIRL. • Oh baby! • Their meeting! My heart! • "HAHAHAHA. What fun." The delivery on that, yes Billy! • Oh Bey ate that delivery on "king." • CYFTLT. Magical arrangement. Bey's voice is just perfect. • The scenery is so beautiful. • They redid this scene so wonderfully. • Simba check yourself before you wreck yourself. • "Who are you?" • "I held the son of Mufasa!" .... oh, I didn't want to cry again but ... • THE SCENE. • "All I was most proud of was having you as my child." • "Remember ...." am I still crying? • Yes baby, yes! Go back! • "Let's go home." My heart, my heart. • Beyoncé saying, "Danger, ha! I laugh in the face of danger!" gave me LIFE. • Why are they not more excited to have Simba back? • THIS IS MY FRIEND PUMBAA, HE'S AMAZING, AND HE DROVE ME HERE. • "Live bait." • The looking back and forth killed me lol • "Why is everyone looking at me?" • I wish they'd done the hoola but the new distraction song was genius. • Rafiki is ready hunny. • Leave Sarabi alone you piece of Garbage. • I'm so glad they went with the Sarabi/Scar storyline instead of the even creepier Nala/Scar storyline. Thank you writers. • Give him a piece of your mind Sarabi! • Simba returns. • Oh this effing liiiiiaaaar. • This Scar is more manipulative than the animated one. I love it? • "This looks familiar." Freaking DEVIL. • "I. killed. Mufasa." when I say I'm livid. • Hans Zimmer's scores remain unbeatable. The emotion. The intensity. The perfection. • "Chubby?" • "I will not be made ashamed of who I am!" • Kill her Nala. KILL HER. • Rafiki came in swinging hunny. • Oh you know she dead. • LION POWER COUPLE. • Scar really gon' run like a lil ..... • He asks for mercy. The nerve. • "I'm not like you ... Run, run away Scar and never return." • The battle. • Me: :OOOOO • I thought he burned. • She ain't dead after all. (?) • But you know HE dead. • He's going to take his place .... my heart. • More crying. • KING. • MY HEART. • BEAUTY. • PERFECTION. • KIARA! • (or is is Kopa? the non-canonical Disney makes it weird.) My final thoughts: The movie, when compared to the original, does run a bit lackluster. There is something ... off ... with the voices. Something about the inflections or was it the lack of expressions on the lions. Oh god, they could have been animated better on that. 5/10 (for the expressions) But the scenery, the realism. So beautiful. 8/10 The voices, like I said, are off. But when you close your eyes, they sound good. Beyoncé was good, and no one can say otherwise. She did not bring Texas into her voice y'all, but her lilt and inflections are so distinctive it was distracting in some parts. 6/10 (for the overall voice cast)

Timon and Pumbaa remain the best. 10/10

James Earl Jones as Mufasa still sounds Majestic af. A lil tired, but hey, there could be no other. 10/10

I really wish they’d kept some of Scar’s lines like “it’s to die for,” and the infamous “SARABI!” but I guess his lines were okay. 9/10

Some additions I remember from the top of my head. Sarabi being more involved in the kingdom. 10/10 I do wish they'd given her a bigger role though. Showing how the alliance between the hyenas and Scar came to be. 10/10 I liked the mystery of the animation, but this was good in showing just how volatile the alliance really was. Showing how Nala manages to escape. 10/10 We needed this. Zazu being more brave and not being captured by Scar. 10/10 Shenzi's storyline and her beef with Nala. 10/10. Implying that Simba grew up with more friends than just Timon and Pumbaa. 10/10 In short, the additions did not detract from the story, and were actually good.

Overall score for the movie as a whole: 8/10

I’m sorry, it just can’t beat the original (which is a 15/10) The original was the pinnacle of Disney’s Renaissance era and this remake, while good and visually stunning, was just not the experience I wanted it to be. Maybe I compared it too much to the original. Will I still rewatch it? Yes. Am I ready to lead a hellish crusade against lion poachers? Hell yes.

#the lion king #the lion king 2019

9 notes · View notes

shookethbrooketh · 6 years

Text

how (not) to drive

summary: when dan told phil he’d be taking a “driving test” for the video they were about to film, he was more confused than anything else. the confusion remained throughout the first two thirds of the video, but it soon turned into fear and then to pure happiness. and maybe a scraped knee.

genre: realistic fluff

warnings: some language, mentions of vomit

word count: 2k

a/n: i’m absolutely in love with dan pushing phil around in a chair during today’s gaming video, so i couldn’t help but to make it into a little fluff oneshot!

read it on ao3! read it on wattpad!

phil had been put through a lot in the last few minutes of his life. first he was faced with the brutal challenge of a driving test, which, in and of itself, terrified him. he’d always been rubbish at driving, and he had no clue what dan had planned, but all of his guesses were equally horrific. when he found out it was a simple racing game, he calmed down a bit, but he still knew dan would have tricks up his sleeve.

of course, phil couldn’t be the only one suffering, so he dug through his prop chest and pulled out a few mustaches for dan to wear to help him look more like phil’s sleazy old driving instructor. if they were going to roleplay, they were going to roleplay.

the first of three portions of the test was simple; he just had to make it through a race. the second was when things got hard. before he knew it, he was dressed like the beginning of a bad porno and having fake cacti shoved in his face. of course, he couldn’t tell the cactus was fake, and he thought there was a thorn lodged in his eardrum for the rest of the race, but he made it. in reality, the placebo pain wasn’t even nearly as bad as the pain as dan asking him to send nudes. he couldn’t tell if it was worse in or out of character.

by the end of part two, phil was all wound up. he’d laughed way too hard to not be full of excitement, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t at least a little bit scared to see what dan had in store for the last portion of his “test”. if there was one thing phil knew about the gaming channel, it was that it always got worse as it went on.

“i’m gonna stand up,” he heard dan say from behind him, and his heart skipped a beat, and not in a good way.

“why?” he whined, fear lacing his tone. “i feel like you’re going to put a spider on me or something!” he exclaimed as dan spoke words of reassurance in the background. if he had to face a single one of his fears, he was walking straight to his room and locking the door. “i don’t like it...” he trailed off, as leaned in towards the camera.

“it is time for the driving test.”

“oh god.” phil paused a moment. “are you sure i’m going to be okay with this?” he asked as he took and squeezed dan’s hand, knowing the moment would never make it online. there was one way to get dan to crack, and it was physical contact.

“trust me,” he said, squeezing back. “this is going to be your favorite portion of all.”

phil stared at him for a moment, trying to decipher his tone. “you’re joking, right?”

dan let go of his hand and simply shrugged, a signal that the only way to find out was to talk towards the camera and see what would happen.

“what are you doing behind me?”

“nothing! i’m just-”

“am i gonna get a nice massage?” phil asked, attempting to use humor to cover up the fact that he only semitrusted dan in this situation.

“no, that’s not it,” dan said. phil began to smile at his own joke, but his face quickly changed as the wheels beneath him began to roll. “we’re coming out of the garage.”

understanding of the situation immediately rushed to phil, and all he could think about was breaking their sponsored phone. or his bones. maybe both. “no, no, no!”

“and we’re going on a little journey.”

“dan! i cannot play like this!” he chuckled up at the smiling dimples above him. they both knew phil was garbage at the game while sitting still; he’d stand no chance on the move.

“i’m starting to become very concerned about this. you’re not going to throw me down the stairwell, are you?”

“oh, shit, you’ve found out my master plan. nine years is far too long, phil.” he started to wheel phil in the direction of the door. “time for a new husband, you old bag!” he jerked phil forward, and he had to clutch to the chair’s armrests so as to not fall not-so-gracefully into the door.

“you’re the worst, you know that?”

“you remind me every day of my life.” the two took a moment to laugh before dan looked at phil in the phone camera. “you ready for this?” phil responded with more laughter. “what’s so funny?”

“i’m sorry, it’s just hard to take you seriously in that mustache.”

“who’s the one in control of the chair here?”

“fine,” phil said. “just don’t hurt me.”

“no promises,” dan said, and the chair started to move again.

“this is very under-chin, dan; i don’t like it,” phil said, finally taking a good look at himself at the horrible camera angle he was holding the phone at to be able to play. “i look like a potato.”

phil honestly expected a joking reply from dan, but instead he was met with increasingly concerning ambiguity. “no, it’s fine! don’t question anything!”

“oh no,” phil said, as the numbers on the screen began to count down. “what are you doing?”

“three, two, one... we’re starting the race! here we go!”

at that, phil could feel all of dan’s weight forcing the chair forward, and he was suddenly coasting at speeds that could definitely cause serious injury in a crash. phil’s emotions seemed to be moving just as fast as he was; of course, the first emotion to hit him was the unbridled fear, but somewhere behind it in his physically jumbled brain playfulness and love in its purest form broke through the fog. only his husband would do something so childish yet so adorable.

“oh god! i’m gonna die! i’m literally gonna die!” phil screamed, the world spinning around him.

“no, it’s okay! come on!” dan shouted, coming into view every couple of seconds as phil spun around in his chair. it was then that he realized dan wasn’t holding him anymore, which scared the living hell out of him, but it was worth it to see his face. the two of them were laughing at dan’s childish antics as if it was nine years earlier. it was like they were young again. “we’re going for a lap!”

“i’m gonna fall over!”

sensing phil’s legitimate fear, dan took hold of the back of the chair again, guiding him through the doorway. “we are in the kitchen!” he shouted, letting phil spin freely again.

“i’m scared! i’m scared!”

“no, come on! don’t crash the car, phil!”

phil laughed, sure dan’s face at the time was golden, but he was terrified to look up from his phone because he thought he might get motion sick, or worse, crash the car.

“i don’t like it!”

“it’s realistic; don’t crash it!”

the whirlwind of emotions in phil’s head got crazier as each moment passed, and suddenly the fear had turned to adrenaline and all his thoughts had blended together to create one positive chemical solution that left him smiling. he was starting to get the hang of it. until dan had to come and ruin it.

“now, how do you get your nitrus?”

“uh-” phil panicked for a moment, his brain having turned off as he enjoyed the fun. “do some spins!”

“yeah!” dan said, and phil realized all too suddenly what the point of that question was. “yes, you do!” dan shouted as he spun the chair around. “you do a 360!”

phil began to laugh uncontrollably. he felt as if he could lose his breakfast at any moment, but he didn’t even care anymore. “i don’t like it! i feel sick!” he shouted. to an outsider, it might have seemed that he wasn’t enjoying himself, and his body definitely would agree, but he didn’t stop smiling once through the whole ride.

“activate your nitrus! here we go!” dan shouted, thrusting phil forward.

“oh my god!” phil shrieked, feeling his balance leave the chair as his body was thrown to the ground and he felt a sharp pain in his knee. “shhhh-” he stutted to avoid swearing on the channel. “ow!” he yelped, not even bothering to pull himself off the floor. the fun aura of the situation quickly left them both as dan’s voice reached a serious tone for the first time in the past few minutes.

“phil, are you okay?”

“i fell on my knee!”

“this has gone too far.”

“i’m staying on the floor,” he said, defeated. “let me finish the lap.”

phil could see dan in the camera behind him, his offputting mustache not helping the image. “don’t stay on the floor!” dan said, almost whining at him to get back up so the fun wouldn’t have to end. “i’m gonna give you a red mark.”

“don’t give me a red mark...” he said, disgruntledly climbing back into the chair. dan appeared again in the view behind him, but he didn’t push the chair again. he simply stood there, and phil could feel his body heat behind him. it was somehow comforting; they had both decided they’d had enough fun, and going any further would be risking physically breaking phil, and so they just existed right where they were as phil somehow performed worse sitting still as he did when he was falling off his chair.

“that was a disaster,” they each confirmed as phil rolled into the finish line dead last and physically bruised.

“but it was one hell of a fun disaster,” dan said, slowly wheeling phil back into the gaming room.

“i can’t believe i’m going to have to do all the driving when we move to the countryside,” dan said as he sat on the couch editing the video they had filmed a few hours before.

“i’ll learn!”

“no you won’t. you’ll hurt more than your knee.”

“speaking of...” dan glanced up from his laptop to see phil lift the bag of ice he’d had on his knee up into the air. “i’m gonna need some more ice.” dan sighed, setting his laptop on the coffee table and pushing himself up out of his sofa crease. “don’t take that tone with me! this is your fault!”

“how is it my fault that you have no balance!” dan shouted from the kitchen.

“remember when i said ‘just don’t hurt me’?” phil said, smirking at dan as he handed him a new bag of ice. “you literally had one job.”

“yeah, yeah,” dan said. “let’s replay the incident one more time.” dan clicked his mouse and the clip immediately began to play. “nice job saving that swear, by the way.”

“thanks. they’ll catch it anyway.”

“you should’ve just said it.”

phil chuckled. “maybe in 2019.”

dan decided to give up on multitasking and shut his laptop, squeezing himself into the loveseat phil was sitting in. “hey! this is my chair!” phil shouted, shifting himself against the side of the chair.

“it’s not your chair, it’s our chair.”

phil rolled his eyes. “you’re such a dork.”

“be careful, lester. i have the physical upper hand.”

phil stared at him, pushing his glasses up onto his glabella. “you wouldn’t hit a man with glasses, would you?”

dan couldn’t help but laugh at that. “who’s the dork now?”

“still you,” phil said with a childish smile.

“fine, we’ll make a deal,” dan said, a devious look crossing his face. “we’re both dorks, and i get to sit here pressed up against you until your knee feels good enough for you to get up.”

“i’m up, i’m up!” phil exclaimed, thrusting his weight onto his good leg. dan’s laughs echoed in the background as he limped out of the lounge. “i’ll be in my room.”

“our room!”

“dork!”

#i spent like ten minutes trying to end this and that's the best i got so enjoy i guess #phan #phanfic #phanfiction #dong and ping #phic stuff #tw language #tw vomit mention #tw #fluff #oneshot

55 notes · View notes

flyswhumpcenter · 5 years

Text

Bad Things Happen Bingo! The event where you send me I give myself self-indulgent requests according to this marvelous card!

tfw you write Markus whump but it’s not the Markus most would expect

Brachion

Summary: Valerie didn't think meeting against with her abusive ex would end in a dark alley. Or, at least, she didn't think it'd end that way, with hands wrapped around a neck that wasn't hers.

Fandom: Trauma Center (New Blood) Ships: Valerie/Markus

Wordcount: 1.8K words

Event hosted by @badthingshappenbingo

AO3 version available here.

She’d have guessed she’d hear again about this one violent, abusive, terrible ex she had had in med school. She knew it. She knew it was going to end badly for someone, her or someone else related to her in some way or another. She was afraid it’d be her mom, or her best friend, or other relatives she’d still have the misfortune to be in contact with…

But little did Valerie know who was going to take the fall for her.

The more she thought about it, the less it made sense for him to attack this person in particular. Who’d even attack people’s workmates to get revenge on them? What if they had a terrible relation together? Sure, she’d have felt guilty if someone she wasn’t fond of got assaulted because she once dated an asshole, but it wouldn’t be the same as if that attacker hit someone she cherished. She’d feel terrible if that happened! She had chosen to save lives, not help people almost lose theirs.

And… then, out of nowhere, it’d start making some sense again. Of course someone out for her life and happiness, apparently desperate for her to come back to him by hurting people she loved until she broke down and let herself down, would decide to hurt the persons she spent the most time around: her partners, her colleagues, no, her friends and companions of misfortune. They had lived through operating in a remote Alaskan hospital, moving to Los Angeles, getting into Caduceus USA’s Maryland branch, getting kidnapped, operating on war casualties in South American countries, meeting a famous surgeon and his fellow nurse (Valerie was pretty damn sure these two were secretly married, there was no other solution to the puzzle), saving the world from a worldwide lethal danger answering to the name of Stigma, everything.

Of course that guy would try attacking either Elena or Markus.

Elena seemed, despite how much Valerie appreciated her both as a colleague and a dear friend, to be an easy victim for him to pick up on. She was young, petite and rather frail, charming eyes but with little physical strength. She’d be easy to trap in a dark street corner, untrained to self-defence techniques (albeit she had since then started learning some of those on Cynthia’s advice) and too kind for her own good, especially if she was walking Pepita and had one hand unavailable to hold a leash in. Just thinking about that made her skin crawl, truly.

When he started to make himself heard from again, starting with ominous messages from a blocked phone number and her mother’s more and more frantic calls, Valerie had prepared herself to fight against him and protect Elena. She wouldn’t let her friend get hurt because some psycho was still after her years later, still potentially armed with a scalpel he’d have managed to slip out of the facility. It felt like her right duty, the one she had to fulfil as a slightly older figure and close friend. It felt natural, rather than right, genuine and strong, but it wasn’t passionate. Her mind wasn’t swept away by a storm of emotions and impulses whenever someone even remotely suspicious approached Elena.

She had gotten her guards up. She’d protect, she’d attack, like a guardian angel turning into a hound. She’d be the body’s immune system. She had killed Stigma, she’d manage to make her former boyfriend land up behind bars in case he decided to jump into action again. She was ready, especially once she had warned Elena about it. The latter had taken it well, despite trying to assure her she’d be all fine and not to worry for her (it was difficult not to worry for someone with whom you’ve lived through so many catastrophes). It’d be all fine. She could do this.

But, in the end, she hadn’t seen it coming.

It had been a pure coincidence. She was walking from her place to the nearest general store to pick up some dishwashing soap she had just realized she had run out of, nothing out of the ordinary. It was the comfortable rhythm of life, filled with all these little moments where nothing much happened, when it was just a succession of habits and customs. The contexts in which even someone like her, who had saved the world from a lethal pandemic, had most of their guard down.

A critical error, she’d soon discover.

Valerie simply happened to take a shortcut, that day. She had lived in Maryland for just long enough for her to know about a few passageways to shorten the routes of daily life, to go faster because losing time had never been her specialty. She’d only take these during daytime, for obvious reasons, which made it all the more shocking when what she thought could only happen at night and in her darkest dreams turned cold-sweating nightmares was unfolding right before her eyes.

There, in an alley, were two familiar figures. One of them, turning her back at her, was the man she had feared for so long, whose aura was filling her with dread, dishevelled hair, two hands lifted. The other, face turned towards her, back against a wall, fingers wrapped around the neck, an eye almost shut and a mouth striving for air, was her colleague. Her friend. Her companion of misfortune. A person she’d have never wanted to see hurt because of her.

But it wasn’t Elena.

It was Markus.

Heart filled with a whirlwind of panic, anger, fear and the forbidden child of the three combined, Valerie couldn’t say not to the primitive impulse inhabiting her body. Rushing almost blindly, unconcerned by most of the consequences for her own sake, she ran to the assailant and, without giving him the proper time to react, kicked him right in the weaker spot she had available on hand. Old reflexes she thought she didn’t have anymore activated: she slammed him against a wall, making sure his hands were locked behind his back, as she grabbed her phone and called nine-one-one without hesitating.

In her voice, calm fury. She was angry at the world, angry at herself, angry at this garbage dump of a human being. This wasn’t meant to be, she knew it, it had slid right under her nose despite her preparations and self-training. Dammit, that wasn’t supposed to be!

She remained frustrated. On one hand, she couldn’t let go of the ex unless she wanted to risk him causing more damage than he had already done to her friend or her; but on the other, she wished she could help Markus breathe properly, instead forcing herself to hear him hack in an attempt to regain his proper breathing. All she could do was wait and make sure the guy wouldn’t escape from her grip. This was terrible element over terrible element, cumulating into an Everest of problems.

In the end, Valerie chose to make her worst decision to this day pass out by merely using a simple technique learnt during self-defence classes with Elena. Did her friend protect her better than she protected Markus? For sure. Was it awful? Yes and no. She was forever grateful for Elena now, but all she had left was now to face the biggest consequence of her halfway-thought-out plan.

Clearly, if these two always worked together, it was for a reason.

Kneeling down next to Markus, putting her hands on his shoulders as if it wasn’t too late to protect him from the dangers she had cast upon herself while they waited for enforcement to do something about their situation, the details only kept adding up to her conscience: he already had two strong red hand-shaped bruises on his neck, traces of an event never meant to be, an incarnated reminder of her terrible solo-plans.

To be honest, she was simply used to Markus’s terrible sense of humour and his unpractical habit to tease her on everything he could find with the force of a thousand snickers. She was used to clashing with him lightly, like friends picking up on each other, never to truly hurt the other but more to play on the few parts they were allowed to ridicule each other on. Nothing big, nothing big… but something precious nonetheless. Something precious she had almost just lost, would she have not taken this route, would she have not noticed it.

Passion had saved the both of them.

Waiting for help to arrive, all she could do was to care for him as much as possible. A thousand questions went through her mind at the speed of light, too quick for her to grasp and say out loud. A storm in her mind, ravaging everything in its course, and no question uttered by a disturbed mind. Ironic, coming from her loud mouth.

“It’s… gonna be alright, Markus,” she whispered, more to reassure herself than him. “It’s… really gonna be alright. We’ve always been alright, why wouldn’t we be this time?”

He coughed.

“Wish I hadn’t dragged you in this mud, but I…” She gulped. “I’m sorry. For him. For this. For everything. Just… sorry.”

Tears retained.

“If I had been more careful… Or clever… Or better, all things considered… You wouldn’t be there…”

Tears flowing.

“Sorry, I really am…”

Pulling the still mute Markus against her chest, as if that was going to keep him alive, she watched the familiar sirens fill the air and senses in the darker corner of a street until then safe. Only then did Valerie understand why she shouldn’t have expected Elena to be hurt in the process because, as it stood, she had never been the enemy the beast was hunting.

And for that she could only accuse herself of being the cause of it all.

A strained whisper reached her ears, prompting her to look at her colleague’s face where a tired smirk was painted.

“Hey, Val…”

She was unable to reply, too busy retaining herself from crying from the shock and the guilt.

“I forbid you to blame yourself… Only I can do that… Didn’t give you permission… as far as I’m concerned…”

“You shouldn’t speak, Markus…”

“And let you bawl your eyes out…? Yeah, no, fuck that…”

“You’ve just almost died! Can’t you just… be quiet for once, when you need it?!”

He snickered at her reaction. Ah, what could have she expected other than that from him, after all…

“Sure seems like it, huh… Seriously, stop crying now, I’m alive…”

Valerie brushed her tears away with her sleeve.

“…I’d have killed everyone in the room and then myself if you had died.”

“Yeah. I know…”

Watching the paramedics come to them, she realized that maybe, just maybe, a nightmare had just ended.

#bad things happen bingo #trauma center #trauma center new blood #valerie blaylock #markus vaughn #elena salazar #strangulation #violence cw #abuse cw #otp: let's show them the healing touch #bthb 1

2 notes · View notes

imdolaneless · 6 years

Text

Platonish? Pt.2 (G.D.)

Summary: Y/N and the Dolan twins have been best their whole lives, they were basically attached at the hip, however Y/N’s friendship with Grayson has always been slightly different from her’s with Ethan, something that’s been stirring up problems in their relationships despite the fact their completely platonic or at least… platonish

A/N: here it is guys, I know it took me like 90000000 years to write this but it’s finally done, I struggled so much writing this for some reason idk why, but I worked really hard on it and even though I don’t love how it turned out I hope it doesn’t disapoint, (also heads up she’s a thiccy)

Warnings: you guys already already know I fucking swear

Word Count: 9136

MASTERLIST

Part 1 / Part 2

2 months. It had been 2 months, since the night Jenna cheated on Grayson. 2 months, since he came to me as a friend broken hearted and in need of comfort. 2 months, since I drove him out to my special spot to watch the stars. And most importantly, 2 months, since I realized I was in love with his dumbass. Something that I had somehow managed to keep a secret over the past 8 weeks. Needless to say it was 2 of the longest months of my life.

Since the breakup Gray and I had been spending a ridiculous amount of time together. Which to be honest is extremely confusing for me. On one hand, I love spending time with him, just being around him makes me feel lighter and happier. On the other, I am not about this whole cliché unrequited love bullshit that I'm dealing with, and the more time I spend with him the harder it makes it for me to move on.

I sighed, collapsing on my living room couch listening to the roaring of the storm outside. I watched as flashes of lightning illuminated the sky, allowing myself to get lost in the unique rythme of the downpour. But my thoughts were soon interrupted by the sound of someone aggressively pounding on my door.

I reluctantly got up, and opened the door to reveal a very wet Grayson, fist clenched in mid knock.

"Took you long enough" He grumbled, pushing past me.

"What are you doing here?" I asked closing the door behind him.

"It's monday, we're supposed to watch the bachelorette" He shrugged, pushing his soaking wet hair out of his face.

"Where's Ethan?"

"He's facetiming Maddie and then he'll be right over..." He shivered, his teeth chattering.

"Look at you, you're soaked" I said gesturing, to the puddle that was slowly starting to form beneath his feet.

"Really?! I hadn't noticed!" He said sarcastically, his teeth chattering.

I rolled my eyes at him, "Just wait here smartass."

I left him standing in the front entrance, while I went to go make some hot chocolate. Once that was done, I grabbed a white fluffy towel from the nearest bathroom, before heading back . When I returned he was staring at his phone, brows adorably furrowed in concentration.

I gently placed the two mugs on the counter top before drawing his attention to me asking, "Who're you texting?"

"Eh, no one important" he shrugged with a small smile.

I found it a little weird that he was being so vague with his answer seeing as he was usually so open about everything, but I brushed it off. If it was important he'd tell me.

"Okay, well then catch." I said tossing him the towel.

"Thanks," He smiled wrapping himself up.

"No worries," I said passing him his cup.

He eyed it suspiciously, "What's this?"

"It's hot chocolate relax" I rolled my eyes.

He smiled gratefully, taking a sip.

Gray moaned in appreciation, "You're the best, what would I do without you?"

"Probably crash and burn" I teased, as he took another sip.

"Yeah you're probably right" he agreed, smiling dimples and all, and I swear it knocked the air straight out of my lungs.

My throat went dry, and I look down at the floor suddenly very focused on my feet, resenting the whirlwind of butterflies that had suddenly taken over my stomach.

"Do you want me to see if I have one of your hoodies somewhere that you could change into?" I offered, in a lame attempt to change the subject and ease some of the awkwardness I was feeling.

"Yeah that'd be ni- hold on, is that mine?" Grayson smirked, gesturing to the deep purple crew neck currently adoring my torso hanging till about my mid thigh.

I looked down, running my thumb over the tiny champions logo on the sleeve. "Huh, yeah it is I didn't even notice" I shrugged.

"I've been looking for that one everywhere, how long have you had it?" He asked, trying his best to look pissed, but failing miserably.

"I don't know a few months maybe? Since before you and Jenna broke up for sure" I replied.

"Well can I have it back?"

"What right now?" I asked taken aback.

"Yeah that'd be nice..."

"Are you serious?!"

Gray smirked, yanking his wet black tee shirt over his head revealing his toned abs, before extending his hand expectantly.

"Asshole." I scoffed, shaking my head. My heart was hammering against my ribcage as pulled off the sweater.

"Wait Y/N no I was just jok-" He trailed off, his eyes raking up and down my body. "...fuck"

Cheeks flushed, I dropped the bundle of fabric into his out stretched hand. "Here."

All the playfulness that was previously present, now gone replaced by tension. Grayson's beautiful hazel eyes darkened, mixed with what looked like lust and something else I couldn't quite place. I saw him glance down at my lips for a millisecond before taking a small step closer. He gently tucked a lose strand of my hair behind my ear, his hand caressing my cheek. I swear I felt my heart stop, he opened his mouth to say something but before he got the chance, my front door swung open with a dramatic crack of thunder revealing the third member of our trio, Ethan.

We immediately jumped away from each other, staring at Ethan like deer trapped in headlights.

"Okay what the fuck did I just walk into?! Why are you both half naked?!" Ethan exclaimed gesturing to Grayson and I.

l cleared my throat awkwardly, crossing my arms in an attempt to cover myself up.

"It's not what it looks like"Grayson mumbled blushing furiously.

"So you and Y/N weren't both shirtless in her front hall looking like you were about 5 seconds away from a pregnancy scare?" Ethan smirked raising an eyebrow.

I opened my mouth to argue, when I actually took in what Ethan was wearing, "Dude why the hell are you wearing a rain smock?" I giggled, he was enveloped in one of those yellow garbage bag like things that they give you at places like Niagara Falls, the hood covering his hair. Needless to say he looked ridiculous.

"Okay, first of all. It's a rain poncho not a rain smock, there's literally no such thing as a rain smock. Secondly, have you looked outside because if you have you might've noticed, it's actually raining! Sorry I'm not a freaking fish and I didn't want to get wet." Ethan huffed.

Grayson and I exchanged a look and burst out laughing.

"Bro you look ridiculous" Grayson chuckled.

"Kind of like an angstier version of Coraline" I agreed.

"Word, or like a walmart version of that sketchy sailor from spongebob."

"Okay enough," Ethan playfully glared at both of us, "I'm not the one who needs to explain my choice of outfit here, especially since I seem to be the only one actually wearing clothes" he scolded.

Ethan had an amused smile on his face, but I could tell he was starting to get fed up with our bullshit, the poor kid just wanted answers and rightfully so. However that didn't stop me from losing it every time I looked at him for too long, I think the fact he was still wearing a hood was too much for me.

"Y/N!!!!" Ethan whined.

"I'm sorry E but I just can't take you seriously with that thing on" I laughed.

"Okay enough about the poncho" He snapped, harshly yanking it off. "All I want to know is why you're wearing nothing but a bralette and adidas shorts while Gray's shirtless. I mean I know you guys have been hanging out a lot recently, so if you're togeth-"

"Relax dude, I was just wet from the storm because unlike you I didn't feel the need to wear a rain smock" Gray started cutting ethan off.

"Rain poncho but go on" "...and Y/N happened to be wearing one of my sweaters, and I jokingly asked for it back when she offered to get another one for me to change into, she took it seriously and here we are. It's not that deep" Grayson finished explaining.

Ethan looked at me for confirmation before saying, "Are you sure that's it because, when I walked in things seemed kind of... intense"

"Between me and Y/N?" Grayson raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah man I don't know, on my life it looked like you were about to kiss or something" Ethan shrugged.

Grayson laughed at this, "Us? Come on you know that would never happen in a million years, we're completely platonic"

Well that hurt.

"Yeah exactly, we're just friends" I agreed weakly, trying to ignore the stabbing pain in my chest.

"See?"

"Uh huh..." Ethan mumbled his eyes focused on me, like he was searching for questions or something that only I could answer.

"Okay well I'm going to grab a shirt then I guess we can start the bachelorette..." I said, I was starting to feel exposed under Ethan's gaze and not because my current lack of clothing.

____________

15 minutes later we were all squished on the living room couch, watching yet another group of guys argue about 'who was really there for Becca'.

I was sitting in between the two boys, Ethan as always was getting really absorbed in the show. However Grayson seemed distracted. He was checking his phone every 5 seconds, and it was constantly buzzing. I tried to ignore it, telling myself it didn't matter what Grayson and that I couldn't care less about who was blowing up his phone. But as the episode progressed it got harder and harder for me to block it out. I made it till the rose ceremony, Becca was just about to give out the final rose when Grayson's phone buzzed for about the 100000000th time this evening.

"K bro seriously who are you texting?" Ethan asked his tone laced with annoyance.

"I'm not texting anyone" Grayson lied.

"Bullshit, your phones been going off nonstop this whole time. Which is weird because the only two people you text religiously are right here" Ethan scoffed.

Grayson opened his mouth to protest, but Ethan raised his hand to stop him, and continued to say, "So if you're not texting me, and you're not texting Y/N, who the hell is so important that they have you practically glued to your phone, because I think we both know damn well it's not mom or Cameron."

Grayson looked down, an embarrassed smile graced his features, "Her names Nicole..." he blushed. "We've been talking for awhile and I don't know..."

My heart started beating faster as I was filled with dread.

"Well are you into her?" Ethan asked.

"Honestly? Yeah I kind of am..." He smiled, his cheeks still tinged pink.

My face fell, and it felt like someone had knocked the wind out of me. I listened in absolute horror to Ethan teasing Grayson as he continued to gush about this girl. I tried my best to mask my emotions, but the amount of hurt I was feeling was making it incredibly hard.

"Are you going to ask her out?" Ethan asked with a small smile.

"I don't know dude we'll see, I'm supposed to meet up with her later tonight so hopefully that goes well" Grayson grinned, pushing his floppy brown hair out of his face.

"Well good luck bro, I'm happy for you" Ethan chuckled.

"Thanks," Grayson said checking his phone for the time, "I've got to get going though, I'm supposed to pick her up in 20 and I want to change first, I'll see you guys later" He got up, his eyes still glued to his phone.

"Bye Gray" I said softly.

"See you at home" Ethan said, but he looking at me with that same intense stare from earlier, like he was trying to figure something out.

Ethan stayed silent, waiting until Grayson was gone, before saying "You okay? You look a little sick..."

"Yeah I'm fine, just tired" I said lamely, avoiding eye contact.

"You're a terrible liar Y/N" he clicked his tongue.

"I don't know what your talking about" I sighed.

"Oh really? So you expect me to believe you went from being more or less fine, to looking like someone just told you you're whole family had been murdered and you're the prime suspect, in the matter of 30 seconds because you're 'tired'" He said raising his eyebrows skeptically.

"Framed for the murder of my family? That's a new one, most people would just go with the classic 'just saw a ghost' expression. Props for creativity E" I said avoiding the subject, starting to tidy up the mess the boys and I had made.

"Cut the crap Y/N you've been off all night what's wrong?"

I grabbed mine and Grayson's hot chocolate mugs, heading to the kitchen "Nothing's wrong like I said I'm just tired"

Ethan's footsteps followed close behind me, as I placed the empty cups in the sink.

"Why won't you just tell me the truth?" he asked, pushing himself up to sit on the counter.

I just ignored him, turning on the sink filling it with hot soapy water as I started to do the dishes.

"Does it have something to do with Grayson? Did he do something?"

I could feel my heart rate speed up, as I focused all my attention on scrubbing the plate in my hand. "Don't be ridiculous..."

"Okay so it is about Grayson..."

"No" I lied.

"Why can't you just tell me it's not like you're in love with him or anything"

I froze, my heart pounding.

"Oh my god..." He said realization taking over his features. "You are aren't you? You're in love with Grayson!"

I dropped the plate in the sink, soap and water flying everywhere, "What?!" I squeaked, my voice cracking.

"Holy shit you are!" He hopped down.

"Shut up I am not! " I argued taking a step back trying to distance myself from him.

"Y/N..."

"Ethan seriously i'm not in love with your stupid brother" I lied, turning away from him to wipe up the spilt water.

Ethan grabbed a towel and started helping me, "Deny it all you want, but like I said, you're a terrible liar and you're not fooling anyone"

I sighed in defeat, looking up to meet his gaze "What am I supposed to do?"

"I don't know, grow a pair and tell him?" Ethan suggested.

I laughed humourlessly "Yeah okay, and when he inevitably rejects me therefore ruining our friendship for all of eternity then what?"

"Wow, and I'm the extra one."

I glared at him.

"What makes you so sure he's going to reject you?"

"Come on Ethan I'm not naive, I know damn well he doesn't feel the same way. In his eyes we're as platonic as it gets"

He scoffed, "Okay what is with you two and that word? Both of you continuously use it as if you say it enough it'll somehow become true. Though you guys may not have realized it, you guys are not, never have been, never will be, 'platonic'. Platonish, maybe but don't kid yourself. There's always been something more than friendship there and you're blind if you think it's one sided"

"I'm not telling him, and neither are you" I said stubbornly.

"You're making a mistake" he sighed.

"Yeah well what else is new."

Ethan and I finished cleaning up in silence. I could tell he was disappointed with my decision but I honestly didn't care it was for the best.

_______________

It was pretty late by the time Ethan left, so I was already in bed when Grayson texted me.

Gray :): hey, u up?

I stared at the three words displayed across my screen, getting more and more frustrated with both Grayson and myself. Why does he think he can just text whenever he feels like it and I'll automatically be there? The days of me dropping everything for Grayson are over. It's 3 a.m. whatever he wants can wait till the morning, which is when your average friend would be up. I slammed my phone down onto my bedside table with a new found resolve, I would not be a love struck puppy anymore and I would treat him like I would any other friend. Of course all this lasted for all of about 5 seconds, before I caved.

Y/N: yeah, what's up?

Gray :) : come outside.

I sighed, pushing off my covers, grabbing a hoodie from my closet before making my way downstairs as quietly as possible, as to not wake up the rest of my family. I opened the front door to find Grayson perched on my porch steps.

"What are you doing here" I asked, sitting next to him. The storm had left a chill in the air, making me shiver as I pulled my hoodie tighter around me.

"Couldn't sleep." He shrugged, turning to face me.

"How'd your date go?" I asked trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice.

"It went." He said, his beautiful hazel eyes clouded with something I couldn't recognize.

"Was it really that bad?"

He shrugged, "No it was fine it's just... I don't know..."

"Oh. Well are you going to go out with her again?"

"Not sure, what do you think I should do?" He asked, he looked conflicted and I could practically see the internal battle he was having with himself, though I couldn't figure out what had him so confused.

"Well I think you should do whatever makes you happiest, and you seem to really like her so why not give that relationship a chance."

"Really?"

Yeah no, I think you should tell Nicole to fuck right off and date me instead because i'm hopelessly in love with you and honestly i'm shocked you can't see it.

"Yeah really, if you think she's good for you and she'll make you happy then I'm all for it." Lies.

"Hmm okay, thanks" He said standing up.

"What is that it?"

"Yeah it's getting late I'll see you tomorrow" He shrugged.

"Hold on did you seriously drag my ass outside in the middle of the night, just to ask my opinion on a girl i've never met?" I asked dumbfounded, as he started to walk away.

He stopped and turned back to face me one last time, "I'll see you tomorrow Y/N" he smirked.

"Wow I hate you."

"You love me."

Little do you know Grayson, little do you know.

____________

I stayed up almost all night, my mind racing with different scenarios and a million what if's, all of which involved Grayson. Shocking, I know. Everything with Nicole was messing me up more than I thought it would, and they'd only been on one date. I can't even imagine how bad I'll be if they end up getting into a serious relationship.

I wanted so desperately to be okay with this to be able to move on, and I honestly thought I could do it. I believed I could watch him start a relationship, and fall in love with someone else and I'd be fine. Unfortunately, the more I actually pictured it the more unbearable ththought became. Which after many hours of thought lead me to the terrifying conclusion that Ethan might actually be right. Unless I want to remain trapped in a purgatory of pining and pain, I'm gonna have to do the one thing I planned to avoid at all costs. I have to tell Grayson I'm in love with him.

I had plans to hang out with the twins and Maddie in the evening, but I decided to come earlier in the day so I could hopefully catch Grayson alone making it so there were less opportunities to chicken out. I stood in front of the familiar front door trying to build up the courage to knock, which is stupid if you think about it because nine times out of ten I'd just barge in. Today was different. Today for probably the first time in my life, standing on my best friends doorstep I was nervous. Forget about butterflies it felt like every living creature had gotten together to throw a rager in my stomach. I anxiously fidgeted with my hair tie that I always kept around my left wrist. I had probably been standing here for a solid 5 minutes now and it was definitely starting to look suspicious.

I closed my eyes taking a deep breath. I could do this, rule number 1, don't be a bitch. So before I could overthink myself out of it, I lifted my fist and knocked on the door.

Not even a full ten seconds later I was greeted by Ethan, "Oh shit, hey Y/N what're you doing here?" he asked awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

"I need to talk to Grayson." I replied avoiding eye contact.

"Cool, about what?" He said, glancing behind him still blocking the door frame.

"Well after some thought, I decided you were right..."

"Right about...?" He mumbled, clearly distracted by something or someone else.

"What do you think Ethan?" I asked sarcastically, his strange behaviour starting to put me even more on edge then I was before.

"Oh my god you're gonna tell him how you feel..." He said, shock and realization taking over his features.

"If you ever let me in your house" I halfheartedly teased about the fact his body was still blocking the entrance.

"No, no yeah totally, or we could grab breakfast or something first. Talk everything through, you know make sure you're ready?" He suggested.

"Honestly Eth I'm kind of scared shitless right now, and I just want to get it over with. After though I doubt I'll want to stick around so we can grab Maddie and go?" I said making a move for the door.

"Yeah okay I'll text her." He said pausing to get out his phone, "Or actually you know what would be even better? If we went now, yeah now that I think about it let's just go now"

At this point, I was starting to get annoyed I mean just yesterday he was practically begging me to tell Grayson I was in love with him. Now when I finally decided I was ready to do it was like he was doing everything in his power to stop me.

"What is up with you today? You're acting weirder than the time after Gray and I accidentally walked in on you and Maddie"

His cheeks turned pink at the memory, "I'm just hungry Y/N is that a crime?"

"Then grab your girlfriend and go get food and if you want I'll meet up with you guys later, now if you could just excuse me" I said rolling my eyes, before ducking underneath his arm and pushing my way into the house.

I started walking towards the living room, but before I could take two steps, Ethan was in front of me.

"Seriously E?!" I huffed, this was getting ridiculous.

"He's not even home right now" He tried, but I could tell he was lying through his teeth.

"Oh yeah," I said narrowing my eyes suspiciously, "where is he then?"

"Uhhh," he started his eyes fleeting to the living room for a millisecond before returning to meet my gaze, "he went for a run?"

"Uh huh, yeah okay well I'll just wait for him in the living room then" I said pushing past him yet again.

Ethan caught my wrist is his hand causing me turn around to face him, "Y/N please, let's just go you can tell him later" he said his eyes pleading with me.

I stared at him for a few seconds, before indignantly yanking my hand out of his grip and strutting into the living room.

"No Y/N wait, don't-" Ethan tried to warn me, but it was too late.

I stood frozen in horror taking in the scene before me. I don't think I've ever regretted anything more than I regret ignoring Ethan just now. Because there sitting on the sectional, was Grayson but he wasn't alone. Oh no, he was currently being straddled by someone who I could only assume was Nicole, in the middle of a very heated make out session.

They pulled apart almost immediately once they realized I was there. Nicole looked confused and startled, while Grayson looked shocked.

"Y/N" He breathed gently pushing Nicole off of his his face consumed by guilt.

I felt like all the air had been sucked out of my lungs. It was like I was trapped underwater, everything happening in front of me distorted. I could see Grayson's lips moving but everything coming out of his mouth sounded muffled, same with Nicole. It felt like I was drowning.

I guess they noticed something was up, because Grayson was now saying something directly to me.

Yet still my brain couldn't process it. It wasn't until I felt Ethan's hand on my shoulder that I finally snapped myself out of it.

"Y/N did you hear me? I asked if you were okay" Grayson said, his eyes searching mine for any indication as to why I was acting like this.

Slowly I looked down at Ethan's hand, then back up at the twins. Both sets of matching hazel eyes focused on me, Ethan's gaze sympathetic, Grayson's filled with guilt and concern.

I realized they were waiting for me to say something, so I cleared my throat before forcing a smile and saying "Peachy, sorry I interrupted your date" I forced a laugh, the words leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. "And you must be the infamous Nicole" I continued turning my attention to the stunning brown eyed girl who was nervously playing with the ends of her thick dark curls, looking incredibly confused.

"Yeah, and you're the best friend right?" she asked politely.

"Yeah, Y/N, nice to finally meet you" I smiled, pushing away the overwhelming urge to cry.

"You too, and wow sorry if this is a weird thing to say but you're so pretty, and I love your outfit" she smiled genuinely.

"Thanks so much I love your dress, it's like yellow was made for you" I complimented, my heart aching.

Of course she was nice, god forbid she's gorgeous and a bitch.

Her kindness however was only making things worse for me, I needed to get out of here, before I have a complete breakdown. "Well, I came to see if Grayson wanted to hangout but clearly you guys are busy so I'm gonna go but it was nice meeting you Nicole" I said my voice cracking, and I quickly turned to leave practically sprinting out of there.

"Y/N wait!" Grayson called after me but I was already halfway out the door.

"Bye guys" I yelled before slamming the door behind me, I could already feel the tears starting to fall.

I heard the twins loudly arguing about something is the distance, then Ethan burst out the door.

"Y/N-" Ethan started to call after me, but I was already halfway across the street and there was no way in hell I was turning back.

I ran into my house and up to my room slamming my door closed, before I collapsed on the floor in a fit of sobs.

For hours, I sat there unmoving, crying hysterically, letting out all my sadness anger and frustration. So far this was hurting me more than any break up I'd ever endured. I felt weak, completely helpless and the fact that Grayson had that much power over me, terrified me more than anything else.

I angrily wiped away my tears, yanking my phone out of my pocket. I quickly scrolled through my contacts to the all to familiar name whose number I'd left unused for months. I opened a new conversation, typing a quick message before shakily hitting send.

Grayson's P.O.V "Fuck." I cursed, while I watched the tiny orange ball bounce off the side of the plastic rim as I missed yet another fucking shot.

I'd been shooting on the mini-hoop I had attached to the back of my door for a solid 45 minutes and I'd only managed to sink 3. I grabbed the ball that had rolled next to my bed, lining up for another shot, which of course didn't go in.

I groaned in frustration, chucking the stupid toy at my wall. Ever since Y/N walked in on Nicole and I earlier I hadn't been able to focus on anything but the absolute emptiness in her expression when she looked at me. To almost anyone else she would've looked fine, happy even. She had joked around after her initial shock, smiling, while making polite small talk with Nicole, but her smile didn't reach her eyes.

When she ran out I wanted nothing more than to chase after her the only thing stopping me was Ethan. I fought back at first, my anger and annoyance getting the best of me, because I just couldn't understand why he wouldn't let me go after her. I eventually gave in when he reminded me that Nicole was still here and it'd be a real dick move to just leave her here alone. So I'd gone back to the girl I should've been thinking about instead of going after the one I couldn't get out of my head. Not that that helped anything because Nicole had left shortly after, telling me that we'd be better off as friends because it was clear I had a lot of shit I needed to figure out. Whatever the hell that means. Not that I was that torn up about it anyway, she was nice and all but I couldn't help feel like something was missing.

I sighed, running my hands through my hair messing it up yet again. I rolled off my bed walking over to my window which happened to be aligned with Y/N's. I looked out at her house half expecting to see her curled up watching something on Netflix, her hair pulled back in a messy bun with her adorable glasses that I know she hates. But her room was dark. I checked the time on my phone, 11:45.

Weird she never goes to bed this early, it takes her forever to fall asleep.

I went to go text her, check in make sure everything's alright, when I noticed a car pull into her driveway out of the corner of my eye. A few seconds later I saw her jog out, wearing one of Ethan's hoodies. I don't know why but that rubbed me the wrong way as it always did when I saw her wearing something of his. My irritation only grew when I watched a guy get out of the car and give her a huge hug.

Who the fuck could she possibly be going out with?

I glared at them my jaw clenched as I watched them walk around the car him opening the door for her. It was only when I caught a glimpse of his stupid smug face and wild brown curls that I realized who it was. Her fucking ex. The dumbass that broke her heart because of his own insecurities. One of the only people it this world I absolutely loathed. Y/N was hanging out with Mitchell.

An unjustifiable overwhelming wave of rage flowed through me as I watched them drive off together. I stormed out of my room practically slamming the door behind me, and stalked across the hall angrily pounding on Ethan's door.

"Gray what the fu-" Ethan started to say, wearing only a pair of adidas sweats, his hair a mess.

"You will not believe what I just saw" I cut him off pushing past him into his room, where a stunned Maddie wearing nothing but one of Ethan's tee shirt, was laying on his bed. "Hey Madds"

"Hey Gray" she waved awkwardly, I could tell she was still surprised by me barging in.

"No offence Grayson but I don't give a shit about some dumb squirrels fighting over an acorn again, now get out." Ethan said unable to keep the irritation out of his tone.

"Okay first of all they were not just 'fighting' over an acorn they were full on dueling with sticks and all and it was fucking sick. Secondly that's not why I'm here. I just saw Y/N getting into a car with Mitchell" I said scowling, the thought filling me with a whole new surge of anger.

Ethan raised his eyebrows in surprise, before quickly covering it up with disinterest. "So what why do you care?"

"I care because she's my best friend and I don't want that asshole to hurt her again."

Ethan rolled his eyes, "I honestly don't know why you hate Mitchell so much, he's a pretty nice guy yet you act like he's the devil reincarnated."

I stared at him in shock, he couldn't possibly be serious, "I mean he's the world's biggest tool, who never deserved Y/N and broke her heart for no reason but other than that yeah he's a real stand up guy!"

Ethan and Maddie exchanged a look, before Ethan said with a smirk, "Sounds like you're a little jealous there bud"

"Me? Jealous? Please!" I scoffed, "I just think Y/N deserves someone who will actually treat her right for once, because she's one of the most amazing girls I know and I don't understand why she wastes her time with shrimp dick."

Now Maddie and Ethan were both staring at me with shit eating grins, "You're so right he he's insanely jealous right now!" Maddie smirked.

"Oh fuck off Madeline I am not" I glared my cheeks heating up.

Maddie just laughed, "Awh look at him he's blushing!" she teased, of course making me blush more. "Does Grayson Dolan have a little crush on Y/N?"

Ethan lost it, he was laughing so hard he started wheezing.

"You guys suck." I said frustratedly getting up. If I wasn't blushing before I sure as hell was now, and I could feel my heart rate skyrocket.

"No Gray wait don't go, we're sorry!" Ethan said clearly trying to hold back his laughter.

"I hate you."

"Come on bro don't be like that, this is clearly bugging you so let's talk about it" Ethan pleaded.

I contemplated his offer for a second, before ultimately reclaiming my spot on his bed. As much as I didn't want to admit it I know talking about it with him would help me clear my head.

"I just don't know what she sees in him, she's a million times better than he'll ever be" I sighed, "Maybe I should go find them..."

"Wait? What?!" Ethan asked startled.

"Yeah I could check snap map or something, and go make sure she's okay..."

"Dude absolutely not. You're not going to crash her date" Ethan said looking at me like I was absolutely insane.

"But-" I started.

"No Grayson, I'm not going to let you stalk our best friend." Ethan cut me off.

I opened my mouth to protest, but Ethan stopped me before I could say anything.

"No Gray. Think about how crazy you sound right now! You're acting lowkey psycho, just wait until she gets back to talk to her later like a normal person" He scolded.

Ethan was right. I was being ridiculous. Like some sort of crazy overprotective boyfriend and we aren't even together! I don't know what got into me, I was not, never had been, never will be that guy. There was just so many things going through my brain that'd I'd gotten a little riled up.

I looked at him guiltily, "You're right, I don't know what's up with me today, sorry dude"

"You don't need to apologize, just chill." He said sympathetically.

I nodded, standing up walking towards the door. "Thanks guys," I said, pausing before adding, "Oh and since I know the second I leave you guys are gonna finish what I clearly interrupted earlier, Maddie try and be quieter our parents are sleeping and you wouldn't want to wake them up, that'd be a nightmare for you two to explain"

Now it was their turn to blush, Maddie looked embarrassed while Ethan looked pissed, "Oh my god shut the fuck up assface" Ethan glared chucking a pillow at me.

I narrowly dodged it chuckling "Use protection!" I called, bolting to my room before Ethan had the chance to throw something harder than a pillow.

I scrolled through my snap memories while I waited for Y/N to get back. Most of them were of Ethan doing something stupid, but a few were of Y/N. I clicked on a video she'd taken a while back while we were driving around one night listening to music, when out of nowhere Lay all your love on me from the Mama Mia soundtrack came on. She'd been obsessed with that musical when we were kids, making us watch the movie over and over again until Ethan and I staged an intervention. I had whined and complained asking her to change it but she just turned it up and sang at the top of her lungs. In the video she was singing the chorus as loud and as off key as she could, making faces and zooming in and out while I watched her from the drivers seat with an amused smirk. I remeber I'd tried to act annoyed but she was to damn cute I couldn't keep a straight face. When the video ended I had a stupid smile on, remembering how shortly after that video was taken she'd managed to convince me to join in on the duet which ended with us both laughing our asses off. It had been a good day.

I scrolled down to the next snap with Y/N. It was another video except this time I had taken it. This one was more recent, it was from one of our movie nights a few weeks ago and I'd forced her to watch IT for the first time even though she's terrified of clowns. In the video she was snuggled into me, with her fuzzy blanket almost covering her eyes. We'd been eating popcorn and the bowl was resting on her lap. It was at the part of the movie where pennywise jumps out of the old film projector the kids where looking at. Obviously that scared Y/N shitless and she'd jumped sending the popcorn flying everywhere, screaming and cursing under her breath, while I was pissing myself laughing and teasing her in the background. I had ended up sleeping over that night and I remember waking up with Y/N in my arms, even though when we went to sleep we were on opposite ends of the bed, feeling nothing but pure happiness.

I continued to look through the old snaps and the more I looked the more they're actually were of Y/N. Videos of her attempting to learn fortnight or singing and dancing obnoxiously around the room. Random ones of her playing with my hair or flipping me off. Pictures of her with food all over her face, or passed out on my shoulder during long car rides with Ethan. Some selfies we took after she got me to do face masks with her. So many pictures from when we go out for food weather it's fast food in the car or a legitimate meal at a restaurant. All of them bringing back fond memories like the time we went cliff jumping or when we took her to get her first tattoo.

However, the one picture that made me stop everything I was doing to stare at it, was one taken only about a week and a half ago. We'd gone to the beach earlier in the day, and her, Maddie, Ethan and I had all gone back to our house for a bonfire. She had on one of my hoodies, shocking, (I swear this girl never wears her own clothes) and I'd pulled her on to my lap so I wouldn't have to go get her a chair. In the photo she was laughing at something someone had said, her eyes lit up with happiness, the light from the fire making her look like she was glowing from the inside out. What made me uneasy about it was how I was looking at her, I was starting at her with the biggest smile, like she was the most amazing thing I'd ever seen or some shit. Ethan must've taken the picture without me noticing because I don't think I'd ever seen it before. An overwhelming feeling of adoration and longing surged through me, we looked like a couple.

I put my phone down next to me, Maddie's words replayed in my head. Did I like Y/N? I mean we'd been friends for so long I didn't think it was possible to be or to want to be anything else. She was beautiful there was no denying that, not so much in an in your face super model kind of way, no her beauty was more natural, unfiltered and as cliché as it sounds she took my breath away. The more I think about it, the more I realize the butterflies I'm always ignoring when I'm around her and yesterday at her house, I had wanted to kiss her. The only reason I didn't was because Ethan walked in. But that didn't mean anything right? I had just gotten caught up in the moment. I couldn't like Y/N. I looked back down at the picture of us the warm feeling in my stomach spreading to the rest of my body, causing panic.

I hurried back to Ethan's room, not even bothering to knock this time. Him and Maddie were in a heated make out session but thankfully they were still clothed. Or at least mostly clothed.

"Seriously Grayson?! It's like your trying to have a repeat of last month! Get the fuck out!" Ethan screamed, after him and Maddie pulled apart.

"Why'd you take this picture" I ignored him shoving my phone in his face.

He grumpily snatched the phone from my hand to get a better look, "I don't know dude you both look happy, it's a good angle, the fire adds a nice aesthetic," he shrugged handing it back to me, "Can you leave now? We were kind of busy..."

"We look like a fucking couple Ethan" I exclaimed, sitting down on his bed.

Ethan groaned in frustration, "Yeah? So what?"

"So what?! I'm freaking out! I can't have feelings for her, she's Y/N!"

"It's just a picture Gray it's not a big deal" Ethan sighed. "Besides so what if you do like her? I think you guys would be good together."

"Bro, do you have any idea what a gross cliché that'd be?! I don't like her like that. I can't." I said, but I sounded unsure. At this point it was more like I was trying to convince myself rather than Ethan.

"You're being so dramatic right now" Ethan sighed, putting his head in his hands, "You've literally got yourself worked up over one stupid picture where you guys look like your a little more than friends. I mean you said it yourself, you don't like her like that, so why are you still here? What's the problem"

"It looks like I'm in love with her Ethan! It's not supposed to look like you're in love with your best friend!" I frustratedly ran my hands through my hair.

Maddie whom I'd completely forgotten was there, looked from me to Ethan with a small smirk, "E should we tell him or do you think that'd make things worse?"

"Tell me what?"

"Nothing it's not a big deal, it's just that you always look at her like that, you have since we were 12" He shrugged. "It's worse when you talk about her though because then you get this really stupid expression on your face kind of like you just got really good head or something"

I felt my cheeks heat up, "I do not!" I weakly argued.

Maddie laughed slightly, "I don't agree with my idiot boyfriends analogy, but yeah you totally do. It's like someone will just mention her name and you get this big dopey smile on your face it's hilarious"

I looked at my brother and his girlfriend looking for any signs they were messing with but I found none.

"What does that mean?" I said quietly, my heart pounding, terrified of what it could be.

Ethan's expression softened, his earlier frustration had almost completely vanished, replaced with a knowing smile as he and Maddie exchanged a look.

"I think you know damn well what it means Grayson I just think you're too much of a fucking pussy to admit it to yourself."

I thought about everything, the butterflies, constantly finding some excuse to touch her or be near her because of the almost electric feeling that came with it. How her smile lit up a room, how I was always so fascinated in how her eyes would change depending on her emotion and what she was wearing. How I knew basically everything about her yet she never failed to amaze me. Ethan was right I knew what it meant, and I swear that realization made my heart drop to my ass. Your P.O.V I had texted Mitchell earlier with the poorly thought out intention to try and get back together. That being said I was fully expecting him to ignore me. Our breakup wasn't the messiest but it hadn't been all sunshine and roses either. What I didn't expect was, him to not only text back but to invite me to hangout as well.

He'd picked me up, greeting me with a hug and a smile and we drove around for a few hours. We talked through everything he apologized for how he ended things, and I apologized for being too blind to realize my own feelings. He told me about his new girlfriend, his eyes lighting up as he talked about her and I found myself being genuinely happy for him. I ended up cracking and filling him in on my whole dilemma which he was very sympathetic to. In the end we decided we'd stay friends and I was happy.

"Well thanks for everything Mitchell I really needed this." I said as we pulled into my driveway.

"Of course, and hey let me know if you want me to set you up with my friend Anthony" he said.

"I might have to take you up on that" I laughed, getting out of the car.

We said our goodbyes and I watched him drive away. When I looked back I finally noticed the floppy haired, hazel eyed boy who'd been causing me so much heartache recently standing at the end of his driveway.

"Grayson what are you doing out here?" I asked, my heart beating rapidly in my chest.

"I came to drop this off," he said lifting up his purple champions sweater I'd returned to him the day before.

"You came to give me your sweater?" I asked confusion taking over my features.

I guess the question caught him off guard because he started stuttering, "Y-yes I mean, N-no, I mean y-you like it so m-much I-"

"Why are you really here Grayson?" I sighed.

He walked closer to me, "I wanted to talk." he said quietly "I see your hanging out with Mitchell again"

I swear I saw a spark of jealousy ignite in his eyes.

"Yeah? So what?" I said indignantly, crossing my arms over my chest.

"So? He hurt you! Why would you want to be around him!" He said, I could tell he was frustrated.

You hurt me! More than he ever did and looky here i'm still putting up with your bitch ass. "That's in the past Gray, things are different now" I rolled my eyes.

"How Y/N? Please enlighten me." He scoffed.

"We're friends."

"Yeah until you 'accidentally' wake up in his bed"

"Do you really think that lowly of me? We've been best friends our whole lives I thought you knew me better than that..." I said, the overwhelming feelings of hurt and disbelief consuming me.

"No Y/N you know that's not what I meant, I just don't trust him with you." Grayson tried to explain.

"You don't trust him with me? What the fuck does that even mean?!" I said, I could feel the anger bubbling up inside me, this was getting ridiculous, "You don't get to judge who I hangout with or what I do with my life. I'm a big girl I can make my own decisions."

"So what are you going to do, fuck around with him until he gets tired of you and breaks your heart again?" Grayson glared, his jaw clenched in anger.

"Wow, okay. Fuck you Grayson." I spat, I could feel the tears threatening to spill, which only added to my frustration, I was tired of crying. I took a few steps backwards trying to create distance between us.

His expression immediately softened, his eyes filled with guilt and regret "I am so sorry Y/N I didn't mean-"

"No fuck you." I cut him off. "You're acting like a jealous dick and for what?! Because I was hanging out with another guy?! That's bullshit Grayson! You were literally making out with Nicole this morning! You're not my boyfriend, you always make that perfectly clear to anyone who asks, so why the hell do you care so much if I end up fucking Mitchell or not? It's not like I haven't done it before, we dated for like 6 months..."

"Because it makes me sick to my stomach thinking about you with him, his hands on your body... I just... I don't want to fucking picture okay?! I've hated all of your past boyfriends and until today I had no fucking clue why, because I mean we're just friends right?" Grayson ranted, laughing humourlessly.

I opened my mouth to say something, but Gray continued before I got the chance.

"Except, I can't stop thinking about you, and when I'm with you I swear my hearts about to beat out of my chest or some shit, but still I tried to convince myself we're just friends. I threw myself into half assed relationships to avoid what I was really feeling because the second I admitted to myself it made it real. But today I was looking through some old videos and pictures of us and I realized, as cheesy as it sounds, I'm the happiest when I'm with you. You're funny and kind, and you're strong, and you're really fucking pretty. It doesn't matter where I am or what I'm doing I always want to be with you, and I can't keep ignoring it forever. So I'm sorry I was an asshole, and I'm sorry if this ruins the friendship but Y/N I'm in love with you. I'm so in love with you it scares me because I have no idea what'd I do without you in my life, I honestly don't think I could handle it."

I stood frozen in shock, letting his confession sink in. There was less than a foot of space between us, his hazel eyes filled with so much emotion, I found it hard to breathe.

I guess I was taking to long to react, because Grayson's somewhat hopeful expression started to falter.

"Y/N, please say something..." He said softly, his eyes searching mine for some kind of indication on how I was feeling.

The vulnerability, in his voice was enough to bring me back to reality. Now our faces were less than six inches apart.

I broke out into a huge smile, "Wow Dolan, I always knew you were obsessed with me, but I have to say, that was unexpected"

He groaned, placing on of his hands over his heart, "Oh my god you're the worst. I pour my heart out to you and that's your response? I hat-"

I cut him off by gently placing my lips on his kissing him slowly. He didn't react at first, apparently too caught off guard to move. I started to pull away, but Grayson stopped me. I guess at that point he'd finally processed what was happening because he wrapped his arms around me pulling me closer and deepening the the kiss. His soft lips moving perfectly in sync with mine I smiled, my whole body felt like it was on fire, but at the same time I had shivers running up and down my spine.

After what felt like an eternity, yet still not enough time we broke apart breathless.

"I love you too." I said softly my voice barely above a whisper.

His whole face lit up with the most breathtaking smile, that made my stomach explode with butterflies, as he leaned in to kiss me again.

"Even though you're an asshole sometimes" I teased, biting my bottom lip.

"Me?! You're one to talk! I told you I loved you and you response was 'I knew you were obsessed with me.' Who does that? You almost gave me a heart attack!" he said indignantly, pulling back slightly.

I laughed "Sorry Gray, but in my defence you caught me completely off guard."

He playfully rolled his eyes, closing the distance between us and kissing me softly.

"I love you, even though you're a little shit sometimes" He said giving me another quick peck. "Be mine?"

I smiled kissing him again.

"Is that a yes?" He grinned.

"Yes." I rolled my eyes, unable to keep the smile off my face.

Still smiling, Grayson started to lean in, but before our lips could touch, we were interrupted.

"FUCK YEAH CAM OWES ME 50$ HAH!"

We turned to see Ethan and Maddie standing in the doorway of the Dolan house, with messy hair and minimal clothing.

"Ethan shut up can't you see they're having a moment?!" Maddie said smacking him lightly upside the head. "SORRY GUYS CARRY ON"

Grayson shook his head slightly, cheeks flushed, closing the gap between us. I kissed him back intensely, while we flipped off Maddie and Ethan who were obnoxiously cheering.

"So much for being 'Platonic' huh?" I said softly.

Grayson let out a breathy laugh, "You know, I think I like this better anyway"

#ahhhhhhhhh this sucks #sorry about that #I don't blame you guys if you let this flop #love you all #grayson dolan #ethan dolan #dolan twins #grayson imagine #ethan imagine #grayson dolan imagine #ethan dolan imagine #dolan twins imagine #grayson oneshot #pt22222 #it’s platonish pt.2 #my works #corr try's writing #p.s. this is unedited sorry kids

134 notes · View notes

univentoremarchived · 5 years

Text

|| THE PLASTIC SEA

“Please, hold on.. I’ll get it off of you in a second, I promise.” Lilias tugged at the plastic ring around the turtle’s neck as carefully as she could, but it was difficult as it was tied around the poor creature quite tight. She needed something sharp.. Lilias looked around, forgetting she could use her sharp teeth to bite it off. When a surfer approached her, all Lilias did was hiss at him viciously, to which the man walked away.. probably offended. She didn’t need humans on top of it. They were the ones who caused this in the first place!

“I’m sorry this had to happen to you,” she mumbled to the poor turtle, who didn’t deserve any of this. “I’ll make sure you can reunite with your family soon, don’t worry.” One way or another...

That moment, another did approach her, Lilias’ first reaction to hiss again, except that this one didn’t smell quite human. He held up his hands, a friendly smile present. “I come in peace. I merely wish to help, kind selkie,” he told her as he knelt down. Since he guessed what she was so easily, she couldn’t help but hold onto her coat tightly.

“Do not worry, child. I have no interest in your coat. Now let’s see.” He carefully held the turtle by its chin before making a movement that looked like he was grabbing... the air? There was nothing else in that spot. Surely enough, the air seemed to solidify, as if becoming a knife.

Lilias gasped. “What are you doing?!”

Keith blinked and looked at her before his gaze softened. “I am just taking off the ring around his neck. Will you trust me?”

“I will kill you if something happens to the turtle,” she decided to reply, not wanting to trust so easily. That was an unreasonable thing to ask in this world after all.

Keith nodded. “I’ll hold you onto that.” With that, he swiftly cut apart the ring of plastic stuck around the neck and checked the skin carefully. “Hm, he looks perfectly fine now. Will you see him returned?”

Lilias nodded in response and seeing as the man had kept his word, she decided to let down her guard. “It’s sad..” That brought forth a pout.

“I know.. Nature doesn’t have it easy..” He let out a sigh and looked around. There were bottles, cans, plastic bags and more questionable things he couldn’t recognize immediately lying around everywhere. What was the fun in enjoying the beach if there was barely any space to walk freely? If anything could anger him, it was the disrespect shown towards mother nature.

“I try to do what I can.. alas, I am not a god.”

“Is that what you would do with the power of a god?”

Keith smiled at her. “What would you do if you had all the power in the world?”

Lilias perked up. “I would gather aaaall the garbage lying around like this-!” With that, she stood up and made big gestures with her arms. “And then, I would bury the humans under all that rotten plastic!”

That made Keith laugh. “Wouldn’t that be fantastic?” He stood up as well, smiling at the turtle who was still with them. He raised his wooden staff and created a giant whirlwind. With the help of the whirlwind, he gathered all the plastic as far as the eye would see, creating a small tornado of sorts existing purely of plastic. He moved the plastic towards the rock wall in the distance where the culprits were littering, even now. Finally, he released his magic and all the plastic fell on top of the humans (and other species if they happened to be present).

Lilias stared at the scene baffled, and as soon as she realized what this strange old man had done, she let out an unladylike laughter. “That’s right!! That’s what you get for messing with OUR sea!!”

He had to admit, that had been quite satisfactory. And so, he laughed along with Lilias. Even the turtle seemed content with the scene.

“You didn’t tell me you were a god, old man.” Was that an accusatory tone?

Keith smiled gently at her. “Ah, but I am not. I am merely a wanderer.” He lightly bowed his head. “It was an honor to meet you, lady selkie. The same goes for you, little friend.” He gave the turtle a nod of his head as well. The turtle too, seemed to bow his head a little at Keith.

And just as easily as Keith had appeared, he disappeared into thin air, leaving Lilias to wonder just who on earth he really was.

|| Thoughts about the drabble would be appreciated~!

#{ drabble }#{ keith; trees are my temples and forests my cathedrals }#{ lilias; sister of the tides }#LISTEN I LIVE FOR THIS KIND OF FANTASY LORE LET ME LIVE #THIS DRABBLE GAVE ME A LOT OF FEELS

2 notes · View notes

reactingtosomething · 6 years

Text

If They Liked This, They May Also Like...

Holiday Shopping with Reacting to Something

stock photo shamelessly lifted from

We know we haven’t generated original content in a very long time, but we wanted to get into the holidays in a way that was more or less on brand. So in the spirit of a Netflix recommendation algorithm, here are some suggestions for what to buy friends and family who liked some of the movies we saw in 2018 (including a couple that premiered in late 2017).

It’s probably obvious, but just to be super clear, the format below is --

If they liked this: They may also like this

Miri’s Gift Guide

The Shape of Water: I shouldn’t say a day pass to an aquarium because it’s a terrible, easy joke BUT I AM WHO I AM.

If you’re not a garbage person, maybe consider the rest of Del Toro’s creature filmography, anything related to Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or a collection of fairy tales by the Brothers Grimm or Hans Christian Andersen. Dark and gritty originals, not the tidied up versions.

Call Me By Your Name: NO, I WILL NOT SAY ANYTHING TO DO WITH PEACHES BECAUSE EVEN I HAVE LIMITS. APPARENTLY. The book is a lovely, lyrical, tragic read (or listen, if you go with the Armie Hammer audiobook as I did), and I would also recommend giving a gift of solitary artistic pleasure in whatever way speaks to your intended recipient—a CD, a ticket to an art exhibit, a coffee table book of a painter you think they will love. Something beautiful that requires a little bit of space to enjoy privately.

Black Panther: The new Shuri comic! (I am a hypocrite because I haven’t read it yet but it looks so awesome!) Also, there are some choice funko pops for Black Panther, which are a nice, reasonable price and make a great desk or bookshelf addition.

Annihilation: A DVD of Arrival and a book on fascinating genetic mutations. (The photo above is from the first linked book.) Also, tell them about the Twitter account Tessa as Goats, which is a true gift to us all.

Game Night: A murder mystery game! Or whatever game you think most appeals to them, but I personally think the immersive nature of a murder mystery is a true delight. Also, something Olivia the Dog themed because she’s awesome.

A Wrinkle in Time: For the actual child: one of the books published under the Rick Riordan Presents banner.

For the child in all of us: a soothing and/or empowering adult coloring book and some nice colored pencils.

Thoroughbreds: Really cool sunglasses.

Love, Simon: Tickets to the upcoming Clea DuVall helmed queer rom com starring Kristen Stewart and YES this is a request for myself, obviously.

Blockers: Make them a dance music playlist on Spotify!! (Or burn an actual CD for peak nostalgia/those who enjoy physical media.) And if you have some time together, have your own dance party with as many or as few people as you want.

photo illustration by

Ocean’s 8: LEVERAGE! BUY THEM A SEASON OF LEVERAGE!!! Give them the gift of even more cons and fun!

Incredibles 2: If they are parents: a night out without the children (this could mean a gift certificate or an offer to babysit). If not, try something heroic like these ornaments, or something that helps them learn to be their own hero, like a self defense or kickboxing class.

Tag: LASER TAG! It’s so fun, even if you’re bad at it! Give a gift card or book a session together and enjoy chasing each other around like giant, fun-loving idiots.

photo illustration from

Set It Up: A massage. Anyone who related to this movie too much is likely very much in need of stress relief. Also, a large quantity of popcorn to be eaten in whatever manner they wish with no shame at all.

Hotel Artemis: A Swiss army knife and a couple of airplane bottles of booze.

Sorry to Bother You: An Oaktown t-shirt (I have been told by someone from the area that this is A Thing but I don’t actually know and I’m sorry for that) and a copy of Kafka’s Metamorphosis.

Crazy Rich Asians: Ideally, a whirlwind food tour of Singapore. If that’s not feasible, a Hulu subscription so they can enjoy Constance Wu’s full comic potential in Fresh Off the Boat. And a really nice candle, because it’s a small decadence that can really go a long way.

To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before: The Wedding Date by Jasmine Guillory (if they like a steamy read), tall socks (if they like to be cozy and cute), and custom stationary (if they like to live dangerously).

A Simple Favor: A cocktail shaker, fancy bitters, a really good mystery novel.

Widows: Tickets to go see Widows again because it’s amazing and is probably even more amazing a second time.

Kris’s Recommended Reading

Wildlife or Widows: The H-Spot: The Feminist Pursuit of Happiness

As I say in my Amazon review, this is the best applied ethics text I was never assigned. In fairness to my professors, attorney-turned-journalist Jill Filipovic hadn’t written it yet when I was a philosophy student. Filipovic is also not a philosopher. But she is a brilliant writer and a rigorous thinker, and The H-Spot is fundamentally and explicitly an Aristotelian ethical project. That is to say, it takes the starting position that political organization should be aimed at the goal of human flourishing (as opposed to, say, economic growth). From there Filipovic builds a case, or maybe it's better to say several cases, for specific ways in which American policy fails women and disproportionately women of color in this aim, and concrete ways in which it could address this failure. She does so largely through first-hand accounts of several women across America, in a wide range of socioeconomic circumstances. Although the institutions and less formal systems in play are complicated, the questions at the heart of all this are simple: What do women want? What do women need?

Filipovic asks these questions without pre-judgment, and without assuming that any answers are too unrealistic to consider. Not that anyone she talks to asks for anything "unrealistic." Partly this is because they often speak from too much experience for the unrealistic to occur to them as something they deserve to ask for, but also, the idea that woman-friendly policy is unrealistic is a Bad Take to begin with. Filipovic doesn't need to be pie-in-the-sky utopian to show how things could be much better for women (and by extension, it should but still doesn't go without saying, for everyone).

I left academic philosophy over five years ago, but I really think each chapter (built around topics like friendship, sex, parenting, and food) is brimming with potential paper topics for grad and undergrad students of ethics and/or political philosophy. Whether you’re philosophically inclined or not, if you think “women should be happy” and “the point of civilization is to make happiness easier for everyone” are uncontroversial claims, The H-Spot is the book for you -- and for your friends who loved the several underestimated women of Widows, or Carey Mulligan’s captivating portrayal in Wildlife of a woman doing the best she could within the restrictions of her era.

Black Panther: A Nation Under Our Feet

Though it helps to have some familiarity with the Avengers storylines that led up to Ta-Nehisi motherfucking Coates’s first year on the Black Panther comic -- as well as with the excellent opening arc of Matt Fraction’s Invincible Iron Man -- here’s all that even a new comics reader really needs to know before jumping into Nation: King T’Challa, the Black Panther, was recently unable to prevent several consecutive disasters in Wakanda. Both as a cause and as a result of these disasters, T’Challa worked with the so-called “Illuminati” (Tony Stark, Reed Richards, Stephen Strange, and other intellectual and strategic heavyweights) to prevent the end of the multiverse itself. That crisis averted, T’Challa has returned to Wakanda to resume his royal duties.

Coates takes as a starting premise that Wakanda, the most advanced nation on earth, would only still have a hereditary monarchy if the monarch was uniquely suited as a protector of the people. In the wake of the Panther’s failures in this regard, Nation opens with a rebellion against T’Challa’s rule on two fronts: domestic terrorists with an unknown agenda on one hand, and on the other, former officers of the Dora Milaje (the all-female royal bodyguard corps beloved by fans of the movie) rallying Wakandan women who have suffered great injustices unaddressed by the crown. The leaders of the latter, lovers Ayo and Aneka, are nominally antagonists to T’Challa, but to the reader they’re parallel protagonists. You root for both T’Challa and the Dora Milaje, even though their agendas are in tension, not unlike the way one might have rooted for both Tyrion Lannister and Robb Stark in early Game of Thrones. (Shuri’s around too, though she’s quite unlike her movie counterpart.)

When he’s not fighting or investigating, T’Challa does a lot of soul-searching and debating about his responsibilities as king, the ways it conflicts with his career as a globetrotting superhero, and whether and how the government of Wakanda must evolve. Though Wakanda is too small to be considered a superpower, the domestic terror angle, an interrogation of historical injustice, and the struggle between moral idealism and political reality make Wakanda a proxy in some important ways for modern America. (You may have noticed that Ryan Coogler did this too.) Coates’s meditation on leadership and political power made A Nation Under Our Feet not only a great superhero comic but -- this is not an exaggeration or a joke -- my favorite political writing of 2016.

Nation is illustrated mostly by Brian Stelfreeze and Chris Sprouse, with colors by Laura Martin; some of Stelfreeze’s designs clearly influenced the movie.

Thoroughbreds: Sweetpea

When a clever, mean-spirited would-be journalist with airhead friends learns that her boyfriend is cheating on her, old traumas bubble to the surface and she becomes a serial killer who targets sex offenders. Darkly, often cruelly hilarious, Sweetpea is what you’d get if American Psycho was set in southwestern England and for some reason starred Amy from Gone Girl. Protagonist Rhiannon is a self-described inhabitant of an Island of Unfinished Sentences, de facto Chief Listener of her “friend” circle, and a maker of lists. Lists of the things her friends talk about (babies, boyfriends, IKEA), signs she’d like to put up at work (please close doors quietly, please do not wear Crocs to work), and oh, the people she wants to kill. Like her boyfriend, at the moment. Or ISIS, when news coverage of a terror attack pre-empts her beloved MasterChef.

Author C.J. Skuse smartly chooses not to have Rhiannon wallow in her traumatic past as many superheroes do. We get glimpses for context, but Rhiannon is committed to moving forward, to escaping her demons rather than being defined by them. It matters that she wants to get better, even if she also hates that she’s bought into society’s definition of “better.” (#relatable)

It’s worth noting that Sweetpea leans seemingly uncritically into a lot of dated gender tropes, in Rhiannon’s assessments of the women around her. (Body positive she is not.) Then again, she’s an unreliable narrator -- one of the best demonstrations of this is a scene in which she’s convinced of her ability to fool the world into believing she’s normal, then overhears her dipshit co-workers talk about how unsettling she is -- so arguably we’re supposed to laugh at how terrible she is without necessarily agreeing with her. This is, I think, a perfectly legitimate approach to a protagonist, even if some find it unfashionable.

The book is not quite as thematically rich as it first appears, at least on the topic of sexual violence; it indulges a “stranger danger” picture of rape that doesn’t feel entirely contemporary. (For a more nuanced treatment of rape culture, see the sadly short-lived but wildly entertaining vigilante dramedy Sweet/Vicious.) But as a portrait of a vibrant, layered, genuinely Nasty-and-you-kinda-love-her-for-it woman -- given Oscar-caliber-portrayal-worthy life by Skuse’s wickedly sharp voice -- Sweetpea is too fun to pass up.

Upgrade or Infinity War: The Wild Storm

Castlevania showrunner Warren Ellis helped redefine superhero comics with 1999’s The Authority, which at DC’s request he's given a Gritty Reboot (along with the WildCATS, whom some of us remember from this extremely 90s cartoon) in The Wild Storm. Ellis has always been interested in The Future, both its potential wondrousness and its probable horror. Fans of Upgrade’s refreshingly unsanitized (and unsanitary) take on human enhancement through body modification will find much to like in Ellis’s spin on the trope of second-skin powered armor. (He semi-famously wrote Extremis, one of the comic arcs that inspired Iron Man 3.)

art by Jon Davis Hunt, from The Wild Storm #1

Angela Spica, a reimagining of Ellis’s old Authority character The Engineer, is a cybernetics expert who stumbles onto a sort of shadow government conspiracy related to her employer, and goes on the run with the armor she’s designed for them. (When not deployed, the armor is stored inside her body.) Angela is quickly targeted by multiple covert organizations, one of which rescues (?) her and brings her in on a secret history of technological arms races and contact with extraterrestrials. The Wild Storm is full of big action and bigger ideas, and for smart, generally curious superhero movie fans who find the decades-long continuities of the DC and Marvel universes intimidating, it’s a great entry -- with a blessedly planned ending -- into sci-fi-comics.

Happy holidays, and have fun gift shopping!

6 notes · View notes