#is the classmate who sorta tried to bully her at the beginning of the school year but then the vibes got all intense and sapphic

[cottoncandyafterdark]

Parenting Heacanons - Chuuya, Atsushi

Character(s): Chuuya Nakahara; Atsushi Nakajima (Bungou Stray Dogs)

Tags: SFW, fluff, familial, headcanons

Warnings: Mention of pregnancy

Notes: AFAB reader; originally posted on ao3 here; this is old and I'm not caught up with the manga now so sorry if anything seems strange

Chuuya

I'm not going to lie, Chuuya's initial response to finding out his partner is pregnant is not going to be very positive. He's not angry or anything, but he didn't really want kids and doesn't feel the slightest bit ready to be a father. He isn't going to run away, though; he knows it's sorta his fault you're in this situation to begin with so he's going to swallow his pride and stick around for your sake.

He spends the whole pregnancy low-key dreading having to take care of a baby. Mostly because he's got no clue how to do that. That's not to say he isn't trying to find out how; if you check his browser history at this point, it'll probably be a lot of parenting articles.

He'll say he wants to leave naming the baby to you but if you come up with name ideas and ask him for his thoughts on them Oh Boy will he have some opinions for you.

As soon as the baby is born and he gets to hold it, it's like all his apprehension just vanishes into thin air, he is immediately in love. Like, he looks this tiny, helpless human he helped make in the eyes and immediately knows he would kill and die for them.

I think that it would be a more interesting dynamic if he had a daughter; he'd still be a good father to a son, but with a daughter, he would truly be wrapped around her little finger. That little girl will be SO spoiled, she'll be the one all her classmates want to be friends with because she has all the newest video games and the best dolls.

Lord have mercy on anyone who tries to bully his daughter, not just because he'll be more than willing to beat them up but if she's inherited any of her dad's personality, so will she. If she gets in trouble at school for fighting back against a bully, she will get high fives and ice cream from Chuuya.

When she's old enough, he'll teach her to fight for real. He knows he won't always be there to protect her, so he wants her to be able to keep herself safe.

Once she's old enough to start dating, Chuuya will do the entire protective dad routine to any boys she might bring home. He will all but do a full interrogation about what they're planning, make it known that he knows how to hide a body, and if they bring her home even a minute late he is going to lose it.

Word will get around about this. It is not going to be easy for Chuuya's daughter to find a prom date.

Atsushi

In the early stages of pregnancy Atsushi is going to feel sicker than you.

This poor boy is straight-up terrified to be a parent at first because of what his own childhood was like. It isn't that he doesn't want to have children, exactly, he just doesn't want to end up continuing the cycle of abuse. Of course, the fact that he's worried about that at all is enough to tell you that he'll be a fine father, but good luck convincing him of that.

Once his child is born, all his worries are going to lead him to go so far in the opposite direction, he's probably never going to so much as raise his voice at the kid. He is a major pushover of a parent, Atsushi's child could get away with murder.

He's also going to have a hard time denying them anything they want. This is going to be another spoiled child for sure. The kid's probably going to end up as a bit of a brat because of this, and Atsushi can't even get mad because he knows it's no one's fault but his own.

On the positive side of things he's going to be such a supportive dad as well. He'll be in the front row of any recitals, plays, spelling bees, anything like that his child participates in and he is going to clap the loudest because he's so proud of them!!!

He'll try to help them with their math homework at some point, but quickly realize that he doesn't really know how to do math either. Much frantic googling will ensue as Atsushi tries to quickly learn long division for his child's sake.

When they get old enough to start hanging out with friends on their own, Atsushi is going to be so worried if they stay out later than they said they would, even if it's just by a few minutes. He'll also want to know exactly who they're with and where they're going. He isn't trying to be overbearing, he just has anxiety.

Voted most likely to cry when his child moves out. Empty nest syndrome is gonna hit him so hard. His child is probably going to get daily texts from their honorary aunts and uncles at the Agency reminding them to call their dad.

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

demanding a series in the same vein (heh, vein) as Dexter/Hannibal wherein a prolific serial killer plays cat & mouse with the police--except the serial killer in question is a preteen schoolgirl. this would make for compelling television due to the fact that middle school frequently causes girls to become deranged, and more media should reflect this

[writteninkat]

iii - new blueberry tart

word count: 2,212

"say you love her, baby, but not like you loved me"

index

The quirk apprehension test was helpful- it gave you insights on your classmates' different quirks, their strengths and weaknesses. When Aizawa used Bakugou as an example, your jaw almost hanged at how far he could throw the ball; over seven hundred meters.

Bakugou looks at you, a smug smirk evident on his face. You couldn't help but grow irritated at the look he's sending you. As if he was inviting you to some competition.

"L/n. Since you look so upset that we're doing this apprehension test-" You look at your teacher with raised brows. You didn't mean to look upset at your teacher or the test, that look was supposed to be for Bakugou alone. "-You're up next. Get the ball up in the sky as high as you can."

You step into the square, "Should I have to just throw it? Or can I hit it with my quirk?" You ask and the teacher's eyes doesn't leave the device in his hands. "Do whatever and however you want just get the ball in the air as high as you can."

"Alright."

Light appears in your hand, catching your teacher's attention. His eyes widen as the same claymore you used in the exam appears in your hands. "So you're the claymore user the higher ups have been talking about. You scored pretty high in such a small amount of time." He says, eyes scanning over the blade of your sword.

"Yeah, I was just proving a point." You tell him, your response catching him off guard as you throw the ball up, using the blade of your sword as some kind of make-shift baseball bat, hitting it up in the sky. The action having created big circular dent on the ground as dust fly around the class.

You place your hand over your eyes, shielding them from the sun as you squinted, trying to look for the ball. You set your claymore on the ground, "How far did it go?" You ask.

"One thousand fifty eight meters." Aizawa answers, a proud smirk etched on his face. You sigh, letting go of your claymore as it disintegrates into small specks of light before completely vanishing.

You turn around and look at Bakugou who had the same proud expression on his face. You throw a thumbs down at him, expecting a snarl only to be hit back with a sinister smile, as if he'd been pumped up just now.

Someone's a good sport.

The test finishes with you in the first place, Bakugou hitting you in the arm jokingly as a 'job well done'. Before you could even feel butterflies in your stomach, you see Izuku walking back into the building.

"I'll talk to you later-" You quickly place a hand on his shoulder, running over to Izuku who's cradling his right arm. "-Izuku, wait up! I'll take you to the clinic."

As you walked away from him, you missed how the blond's look went from proud to sour within a second. Were you and Deku close? When and how?

As you began keeping your things and preparing to go back home, someone leans on the desk beside yours. You look up, raising and eyebrow at Bakugou who's looking away from you.

"Need something?" You ask, standing up and zipping your bag close. The blond clicks his tongue, looking at you with an annoyed expression. "That cafe is selling blueberry tarts today."

You smile, pressing your lips together to try and suppress your laughter, but fail. You begin laugh loudly, the blond looking at you with a weird expression on his face. "Bakugou, have you memorized their menu and schedule by heart or something?" You ask in between laughs, the blond getting angrier.

"Do you think I'd have time doing that sorta dumb shit?! I was just letting you know!" He yells, mini explosions going off in the palm of his hands. As your laughter slowly dies down, you notice him slowly walking away.

"Hey wait! I'm sorry!" You chuckle, quickly jogging to him. "I didn't mean to make fun I'm sorry!" You laugh, a wide smile on your face as you place a hand on his shoulder.

He clicks his tongue once more, looking away as he continues walking out the classroom. "Does their blueberry taste better than their strawberry?" You ask, placing both your hands behind you.

"How would I know?! It's not like I go there everyday!" You just smile in amusement at him, mind recalling back to times when you were this happy with someone other than your mom. Nothing comes to mind. The whole walk back to the cafe was silent as you rack your brain, furrowing your brows. There were no memories you could remember.

You snap out of your trance when you notice that you were walking alone now. You look to your side, and then to your other side but see no Bakugou. You turn around and see that he's standing a few feet away from you. You jog over to him, a worry evident on your face.

"What happened? Why'd you stop walking?" You ask.

"What happened to you?Why'd you stop talking?" He shoots back at you. Despite his furrowed brows, the mean glare and the scowl on his lips, his eyes held another expression. They looked so soft and curious.

"Ah- I was just wondering when was the last time I was this happy, walking with someone apart from my mother." You place a hand on your nape, looking away.

"Well? When was it?" He asks, causing you to look back at him with a questioning look. "When was what?" You ask back, deeply confused.

"When was the last time you were this happy? Other than your mom?" His question caused your smile to fall. You couldn't understand why you felt so bad knowing the fact that you don't have any memories of these kinds of simple things. You never even experienced them.

Your eyes widen at your realization. You look up at Bakugou, your wide eyes causing him to raise his brows, still waiting for your answer. "Well?" He asks.

"I... I couldn't think of anything." You smile sadly at him and his annoyed expression drops into something else- was it sadness? Pity? "I never experienced anything like this, I think." You look down at you shoes, feeling your eyes well up at the thought. All your life, you've been homeschooled. After being bullied harshly during middle school, your mother pulled you out of your private school out of pity. She didn't want her kid experiencing that type of bullshit treatment.

You then notice dark circles on the concrete ground. You blink a few times and notice that you've already been crying. You were about to look up, ready to deny it but stop when you see a pair of shoes come into view. You look up, feeling your wet tears stream down your face as you look at Bakugou from up close.

He smells good. Like a sweet, burnt caramel smell. He reminds you of the candy factory your mother's friend brought you to when you were six. It smelled so good, so warm, it smelled like when your mother was making your favorite from her recipes; her caramel cupcakes.

Bakugou smelled so much like home.

You feel something soft touch your cheek, looking down to see a black handkerchief with orange accents. "Stop crying, dumbass." His voice sounded so rough and soft at the same time, you felt utterly confused by yourself.

"Why? Cause I look ugly when I cry?" You joke, a soft smile stretching across your face. Bakugou's eyebrows furrow, "No, cause if the cashier sees your eyes all red and puffy like that she'll get worried I made you cry."

You raise a brow, taking the hanky from him. You dry your cheeks on your own, turning around to continue walking towards the cafe. You were so close that can already see the sign.

"You seem like you've befriended the people from the cafe." You look at him through a side glance, admiring how fierce yet soft he looked. His eyes always had this sharp and intimidating look in them but as you traveled your eyes down his cheeks, you could notice that there were some baby fat left in them.

"No I didn't. They befriended me." He tries his best to deny them it makes you chuckles. "So you admit you are friends with them?"

"You know what? I don't have to listen to your crap." He throws his hands up in the air in surrender as he turns around and begins walking away from the cafe. You laugh, pulling him back. "Come on! There seemes to be only three tarts left!"

You go home with a satisfied belly full of sweets, a slice of take out carrot cake in hand courtesy of Bakugou and his phone number written on a napkin pushed inside your pocket. He gave it to you sa you could 'call him if you are crying like an idiot again' but you couldn't help the butterflies in your stomach. He still gave you his phone number, so you still win today.

As you place your slice of cake in the fridge, you take out your phone and send Bakugou a quick text.

you: i'm not crying but i thought you'd want me to text you so you could have my number too

rubies: got home alright?

You bite onto your lip, smiling like an idiot. Him asking about your well-being after you tell him you got home is the lowest of the low, but still.

you: yeah, i did.

you: i'm doing my english homework in a few. need my help with it?

rubies: i should be asking you that, idiot

you: i'll take that as a yes

you: i'll call you after i wash up

rubies: whatever

You quickly scroll through your spotify, choosing your playlists before heading to your bathroom. After a long day, you definitely needed a warm, relaxing bath. You turn your water on, letting the warm feeling run down your body, relaxing your tense muscles as you run your hand through your wet hair.

By the time you finish, your phone starts ringing. Your heart drops- you weren't answering Bakugou's face time while you were still in your towel. That would be inappropriate-

You read the screen; Mom.

I'm an idiot.

You answer the call, smiling widely. "Hey mom! How's the house over there?" You ask, walking back to your room and towards your closet. "It's pretty quiet without your songs playing in the background. I miss you my baby." She coos and you feel your heart melt in your chest. "I miss you too, mommah. Tell me about your day."

As she rambles on about how tiring her day was, you put on your pajamas and quickly apply your skincare, nodding and laughing as your mom continued on about her day.

By the time you finish, your mom was still talking and it was already around eight PM. "But yeah that was pretty much how my day went. How was yours? Was the first day good? Were the kids nice?" Before you could answer, a notification banner pops up from above your screen. You read is, feeling your heart drop in excitement.

Rubie is calling you on facetime...

"Hey ma, I'll tell you about my day on another time okay? I have homework to do." You say, quickly getting off the bed and walking to your desk. "Okay? You can do your homework I'll help you out-"

"It's cool, Bakugou's calling anyway. Bye! Love you!"

"Bakugou? Who's Baku-"

You end your call quickly, answering your classmate's facetime call. You lean your phone on the wall as you take in how he looks right now- hoodie pulled up his head and a headband pulling his hair back as he writes on his notebook. He looks at his camera, eyebrows furrowing. "Took you long enough."

"Sorry, my mom was calling." You pull out your notebook from your bag and the two of you begin your homeworks, helping each other. Well, it was more like Bakugou helping you out, but you'd rather say you helped each ofher out.

You finished your homework pretty quickly and after doing so, the two of you begin talking. First your topic was about stars and galaxies, opened by you, and then it went to alternative universes, and then what would happen after death, and then this funny story about Bakugou's aunt- the two of you talked about everything and anything. Whenever you talked with the blond, it felt likr you would never run out of topics to talk about.

When the clock's long hand struck to twelve and its short hand on one, you were already asleep, phone leaning on your lamp horizontally as you slept with the camera on.

Bakugou smirks at your sleeping face, you look so soft and peaceful. "Hey, idiot. I know you're awake." He says, knowing fully well that you were asleep already. He just wanted to make sure.

"You know, you look cute when you're asleep." He says, snapping a few pictures of you, "And maybe when you're awake..." He mutters the last part before ending the call.

[sd1970x]

Marinette, work in progress - Chapter 1

Read also on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26203645/chapters/63770623

----

“One is not born, but rather becomes, a woman.” Simone de Beauvoir

There is almost nothing about Marin Dupain-cheng's life, an aspiring clothes designer, that makes them happy. Certainly not the bullying they keep getting at school.

Marin doesn't even know her true gender identity yet.

Both of these are about to change. But would that be enough for her to fight the demons within? ----

CW - Homophobia

Pronouns note: in the beginning of the fic, as Marin(ette) is very much closeted, I am purposefully using he/him pronouns as these capture the correct perspective feel. Pronouns will change as soon as she realizes who/what she really is.

---

So, this is my first work after almost two years of not producing any new ones. I am planning to explore mental challenges involving the crossing of the gender barrier, the very same ones I am now fighting after discovering my own gender identity, as I was writing it in a Miraculous Ladybug fic.

This work is planned to be about a dozen chapters and around 30-40k words when complete.

Thanks go to: V- for inspiring this fic and for being the amazing and caring person they are. Wonderful beta feedback and copyediting: Skye, MyKeyboardDidIt

(further thanks will be updated as goes! if you helped with beta/ideas just hit me up and i'll add you!)

------------

"Dear, your alarm’s been going off for fifteen minutes! You’re going to be late for your first day of school!”

You say that as if it’s a bad thing. As if I don’t want to be several hours late. Or days.

“Yeah Mom, I’m coming.”

Marin dragged himself out of bed, his form hunched as he made his way to his closet, regarding his clothes with indifference.

I Don’t even like any of them. And I doubt they would solve the real problem here. That I do not like what I see in the mirror.

Myself.

His hand drifted to a random shirt of no particular interest and he casually tossed it over his head. He shuffled over to the bathroom, glancing at himself in the mirror.

Ho-hum. Same old me, isn’t it?

His hair was in its usual mess on top of his head. Foregoing using a brush, he ended up lightly combing through his hair with his fingers until it looked somewhat acceptable.

I guess that’s okay, he thought while shrugging.

As he was brushing his teeth, his eyes strayed to his face. Studying it. Scrutinizing it.

I ought to shave better than this, He thought. His hand reached for the razor, but he stopped short of picking it up.

What even is the point. Either way, trying won’t make any difference.

The image in the mirror appeared to give him a judgemental look, his own blue eyes prying into the inner parts of his soul.

Well, at least these eyes aren’t half as bad. Perhaps they would have been of some use if they had been matched with another person altogether.

He sighed and turned his head away, as if that would be enough to make the thought disappear.

It wasn’t.

The stairway creaked just a bit as he went downstairs to the kitchen where his parents were already toiling about.

“Your need to patch up your shave, my boy,” Tom said. “You want to look good for the ladies, don’t you?”

I’m not into girls, Dad.

Maybe one day I’ll gather the courage to tell you that.

“Well… not really…”

After all, what difference does it make?

“Come now, where’s the spirit? Every girl is different, they can’t all be like Chloe,” Sabine interjected, attempting to be helpful but having just the opposite effect.

“Ugh, Mom, why’d you have to mention her at all?”

Marin frowned as he sat down for breakfast, unable to drive Chloe’s image away from his mind. He took a bite off of his omelette and was struck by the apparent blandness. He set the fork down, sighing quietly to himself.

And there goes my appetite. It’s not the omelette that’s the issue though....

A sip of fresh juice did the trick, the taste too strong to be overridden.

“Cheer up, buddy!” Tom came over. “Take these macarons to school, maybe a tasty start would help lighten up your day!”

“Thanks, Dad, these are awesome.” He said as he picked them up, giving him a half-hearted smile in return.

I appreciate the gesture..., but it feels more like bribing my classmates with these. Guess anything is worth a try at this point.

---

Marin walked into school where everyone was bustling about and chatting with old friends.

Bright banners greeted the students and everything still felt pristine and clean. The corridors even had flower bouquets placed as decorations. Marin took a breath of air, relishing in the floral scent, and proceeded to enter class.

The classroom was freshly painted and even the furniture had been patched with an attention to detail. Marin barely allowed himself a moment of excitement, before despair and weariness took hold again.

It may look different, but looks won’t change anything for people like me. It’ll still be an endless test of mettle against bullying and harassment.

He cautiously went for his seat and observed his classmates.

So there’s Nino, he’s kinda-sorta okay with me. Something I could never say about Kim. Max hasn’t been mean either, but he’s with Kim, so... At least I don’t see her , maybe we’re not in the same—

“What do you think you’re doing?” a loud cry halted his thoughts and confirmed his fears.

Chloe. The nastiest of them all. Here’s to an old-new welcome, a start-over that amounts to absolutely nothing.

“Ugh. Here we go again,” he muttered quietly, hoping Chloe wouldn’t pick it up.

She came over, an accusing look plastered on her face.

“That's my seat.”

“But Chloe, this has always…” he attempted to retort, then quickly backtracked.

“Fine, just… take it. I don’t care.”

“Take it? It’s always been ours.” Sabrina added, bearing the same mocking countenance.

Sabrina helped herself to one of Marin’s macarons uninvited, then made a puking motion.

“Ugh, they are so gross!” she said, even though she was quick to pocket one for her friend as well.

Chloe paid no heed to the macarons as she was already busy teaching Marin the new rules.

“Listen. Adrien's arriving today and the last thing he needs is someone who needs straightening like you giving this class a bad name. Stay away from him, get it?”

Marin tried his best to ignore the obvious insult and focus on the more pressing question.

“Who’s Adrien?”

Both Chloe and Sabrina chuckled, making Marin regret asking.

“Adrien is a famous model. Pretty, rich, glamorous, someone to look up to. Like me. And just like me, he’s everything you’ll never be and everything you’ll never have.” Chloe fawned over her imaginary description as Sabrina took up the task of reprimanding Marin for the question.

“A loser that doesn’t even know who Adrien is, needs to sit as far away from him as possible. You’re enough of an embarrassment to our class as is.”

Marin opened his mouth as if to deny every word, but opted against it.

You’re wrong. One day, I’ll be a famous and successful designer and every single one of you will be sorry for how you treated me. I just have to persist through this. I won’t bite it this time.

He picked up his bag wordlessly and slowly went towards his designated seat.

At least that’s what he planned to do, but the new girl pre-empted him as she grabbed him by the hand and helped him to the seat next to her. Apparently she had overheard the conversation and didn’t plan on letting it slide, at least as far as her expression read as she looked towards one Chloe Bourgeois.

“Hey! Who elected you queen of seats?” She cried out.

“I did. Good luck dethroning me with your pariah friend.” Chloe laughed at her.

It was then that Miss Bustier entered the class, finally putting a timely end to the whole ordeal.

“Has everyone found a seat?” she called.

“Hey. Don’t let her get to you.” The new girl turned towards Marin again.

He nodded.

“If only I could… She makes my life miserable. My only comfort is the thought that I’ll be free once I graduate.”

“I’m Alya, what’s your name?”

“I’m Marin” He replied. “Pleased to meet you.”

“For those of you who don't yet know me,” Miss Bustier called yet again, “I'm Miss Bustier and I'll be your teacher this year.”

At least with the lesson going on, I should be safe from unnecessary trouble.

Marin pulled out his history book, the same one from last year, bearing yet another reminder. "Marin the Gay-boy" scrawled over the cover, courtesy of Kim.

Safe, huh.

“Everything you’ll never be, Everything you’ll never have.”

Like a clean history book.

It was then when the memories came back to life, a flashback from last year.

---

“Who did this?”

Marin looked about, trying to discern any dead giveaways by his classmates. Too many of them seemed to be smiling too mysteriously to be able to get anything out of them.

You need to stand up for yourself! Show them weakness and they’ll hunt you down like prey!

… easier said than done.

He took another good look at his history book. A small red scrawl was now adorning it, not unlike a barb stuck in flesh and equally painful.

“ Marin the Gay-Boy ”.

“Please… tell me who did this.”

Weariness engulfed his voice as it went weak.

I’ll find out who did this! I’ll…

Drip.

Drop.

The book’s hardcover had just won yet another adornment, as Marin’s teardrops started collecting over it.

Marin picked up the book, tucked it by his side and blasted away from class, his legs carrying him as far as he could, a bout of laughter coming from his classmates in his wake.

By the time Nino found him, his tears had mostly dried out.

“I saw it, dude. It was Kim.”

Marin sighed.

“Thanks, Nino. I… there’s nothing I can do about it, now can I?”

Nino nodded.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

---

I may have missed first period and the picking of seats, but I haven’t missed out the first day entirely. I guess luck is somewhat on my side, today.

“Hey there, Adrikins. Here’s your seat, I saved it for you. Right in front of me!”

So, I have that going for me as well!

“Thanks, Chloe, that’s really nice of you!”

As Chloe and her friend Sabrina went to do something else, Adrien found it to be an opportunity to introduce himself to other students around. What caught his attention the most about the nearby student were his orange headphones, seemingly a fixture of his appearance.

“Hey, I’m Adrien, pleased to meet you!” he offered his hand and got answered with a sturdy shake.

“Yo, I’m Nino. So, you’re that guy Chloe mentioned earlier?”

It was at that moment that he caught something happening out of the corner of his eye.

“What’s that all about?” he called towards Chloe and Sabrina, as both were putting gum on one of the seats.

“The brat that sits here needs a reminder of his place in the hierarchy. I'm just commanding a bit of respect, that's all.”

“You think that's really necessary?”

“Ah, you've got a lot to learn about school culture, Adrikins. Watch the master.”

Hardly convinced, Adrien went about trying to remove the gum from that seat, as he heard another male voice.

“Oh. So that’s your method of choice. How original.”

The voice sighed as Chloe and Sabrina laughed.

“Uhhh… I…” Adrien tried to protest, as he turned towards who he presumed was the seat’s owner.

The first thing that struck him about this boy is that he had a good amount of untapped potential. Smooth black hair, bright blue eyes… given proper care, he could look so much nicer, but he was relatively unkempt and his clothes were poorly matched too.

“And to think I imagined this year would be any different. Stupid, stupid, stupid. ” The boy lamented.

“No, no, I was just trying to take this off!” Adrien tried to salvage the situation, but to no avail.

All the while, Chloe and Sabrina continued to laugh.

“I see you’re in cahoots with Chloe. You don’t need to play pretend with me.”

“See?” Chloe said, “Gay-boy here knows his place. As he should.”

Marin just covered the gum with spare tissue paper and sat by Alya.

“There you go. Adrien Agreste, daddy's boy, teen supermodel and Chloe's buddy.” Alya quipped.

“I bet he’s used to not seeing or caring how people beneath his status feel,” Marin muttered.

---

Alya had little interest in the class, but much more interest in her table partner. She quickly learned that Marin wanted to be a famous designer after he graduated. While she wasn’t a professional, the sketches Marin gave her seemed really good. But there was something else to watch for, too. How his face had lit up when he handed her his sketches. For a moment there, he seemed to be another person altogether. His face brightened up as he took at least a hint of pride in his handiwork.

And you should. Not to mention that a smile looks so much better on you than that sad face you had on earlier.

They had a free hour just after class, so Alya was only mildly surprised when Marin caught her hand and pulled her towards somewhere as he ran forward.

“Where are you taking me?” She asked.

“The best place this school has to offer.” he grinned and continued to dash forward.

“I present you… the art club room!” he exclaimed.

It’s as if he’s another person entirely.

Marin waded in, showing Alya all the different areas the art room had to offer.

A wall for street art, mostly cleaned from past works but still bearing color marks of older works. Desks used for writing, pen scratch marks still visible even after having been cleaned for the new year. Drawing stands, also marked by some uncleanable paint blots. Then there was...

“... Here it is. A state of the art sewing machine, My best and only friend in this entire school.” he laughed, but in a moment the smile dropped from his face.

“That… I…”

He sat by, not nearly as happy as before, and pulled a derby hat from the nearby drawer.

“I worked on this last year and haven’t managed to finish it yet.”

Alya picked up the hat and casually caressed the fabric. It felt somewhat sturdy yet comfy.

Marin flicked the machine on and seemed to be mulling his next move. Eventually, he just turned it back off without doing anything.

“We technically shouldn’t be here without a teacher, so let’s go.” His passionless voice took over again.

Alya could see this was nothing but an excuse, but she declined to call it out. Her instincts told her there was no chance on earth Marin wasn’t keen on violating this rule more than once.

“It really is a lovely place.” She tried to brighten up the atmosphere, with mild success.

“And I loved the hat.” She said as she handed it back for Marin to place in the drawer again.

That seemed to work a bit better.

“Wait ‘till it’s complete, then. I’m sure it will suit you well.” Half a smile crept to Marin’s face.

---

Marin bid Alya farewell as he left the classroom and slouched towards the school’s main doors.

He cautiously opened it, only to find rain pouring outside and the sky filled with grey clouds.

A fresh start, huh? The morning’s nice weather is already gone. At least the bleakness isn’t hiding anymore.

He stood by, still sheltered, when he found out another person was standing next to him.

That Adrien guy. And he just noticed me. That’s the last thing I need right now.

“Hey!” Adrien called.

He slowly sidestepped to maintain a safe distance between them and turned his head away, muttering a slight ‘hmph’.

“Hey, listen buddy… I really was trying to remove that gum from your seat.”

Marin turned his head around and looked at Adrien, wide-eyed.

I… I must be dreaming. Did he really just say that?

“S-so… you weren’t…” he tried to piece together his words and found himself unable to do so.

“Of course not. I came here to study, to make friends… I’m not here to harass or insult people, where’s the sense in that?”

He is sincere about it. Somebody that doesn’t see me as the “gay punching bag” everyone else does.

“I didn’t even get your name.”

“It’s… It’s Marin.”

Marin’s heart nearly skipped a beat, one that he was sure Adrien managed to hear even with the rain’s sound muffling it.

And then, there was an inaudible sound he missed.

A cracking sound, as the nearly-impenetrable shell, one that was built layer over layer of self-defence from bullying and mistreatment, sealing off his emotions, gave just a little bit of way.

Adrien let his hand out of the shelter, feeling the raindrops accumulating.

“So, Marin, It’s raining and I’ve got a ride, need an umbrella?”

He nodded ever so slightly and Adrien pulled out a black umbrella. A click and a whoosh and it was now open, handed for him to take.

Marin cautiously reached out for the umbrella Adrien handed him, his hand shaking and trembling.

That’s… so nice… so… so unlike…

No sooner than he had picked it up though, his hand slipped and triggered the activation switch, the umbrella closing shut over him.

Adrien laughed for a brief moment and gave Marin a slight friendly shoulder bump.

“You keep safe, alright buddy?”

“A… al… alr-...”

Marin barely even noticed his bag dropping, hitting the ground with a ‘thud’ and his personal effects rolling about on the wet pavement. His eyes were transfixed as Adrien waved goodbye and proceeded towards his pick up car.

He’s not going to insult me or beat me or humiliate me.

Someone I can trust. Someone I can rely on.

I feel… safe next to him.

.

.

Oh, Adrien!

Maybe things were going to be different after all.

---

Unnoticed by them both, there was another figure watching the exchange, clad in a hawaiian t-shirt and accompanied by a green looking creature.

“Are you sure of your choice, master?”

“Yes. He will make a fine Chat Noir…

… and she will make for an unforgettable Ladybug.”

next

[charliejrogers]

Yes, God, Yes

Full disclosure: I not only attended a Catholic high school, but I specifically attended a Kairos retreat, the exact retreat which the characters from 2020’s Yes, God, Yes attend. In the film, they call it “Kirkos,” but everything about “Kirkos” is the same as my (and seemingly every) Kairos. So let me clear up a few things for those of you who saw this film and thought, “This shit at this movie retreat can’t be what they do in real life.” Yes, Kairos leaders really do collect your phone and watch upon arrival to the retreat center since you are now on “God’s time ”(kairos comes from the Greek word καιρός which literally means “God’s time”). Yes, you are forced into small groups with your other classmates and feel this weird pressure to have a sad life story to share. Yes, small group leaders start to play music while they tell their own story AND pass out the lyrics as if these song lyrics are real deep poetry. One of my retreat leaders, for example, handed out sheets of the lyrics to Florence + The Machine’s “Shake it Off.” Now, I LIKE Florence + The Machine, but even still the lyrics to that song are nothing special. And, most of all, yes, those who come back from Kairos do tend to act a little cultish. At our school it was referred to as having a “Kai high,” a feeling in time when everyone just wants to be friends yet those people only exclusively hang out with one another.

In defense of Kairos retreats, at their very best, they offer adolescents at a critical time in their development the opportunity to reflect on their lives thus far, evaluate if they are living out the values their parents and community have instilled in them, and give them a safe space to work through conflicts, apologize, and try to be better people. At their worst, it’s a self-congratulatory experience where people act morally superior to others without really doing anything substantial… or even worse it’s a period of time where adolescents might unearth and talk about really hard topics like suicide, depression, etc. for the first time… and yet are given no real guidance on how to handle those emotions outside of this four day experience!

All this said, this is not a review of Kairos retreat. It is, indeed, a film review. I just wanted to make clear my biases etc. before talking about it since the retreat does more than provide the setting for the majority of Yes, God, Yes: the retreat’s four-day thematic structure doubles as the film’s plot structure. Just as in real life, our protagonist does a lot of questioning about her life and her faith during her first day, does some “crying” during the second as people, “accepting/trusting” the third, and then “living out” the lessons she learned on the fourth day and beyond! The difference is that in real life, teens are supposed to do these things in regard to their faith... or protagonist across those four days has a genuine sexual awakening.

In fact it’s exactly the desire to suppress her sexuality that prompts our protagonist to go on the retreat in the first place. Because our protagonist, Alice (played by Stranger Things’ Natalia Dyer), has just discovered something about herself that is hard to put out of her mind: she likes sex! Or, more specifically, likes masturbating. Alice is, from what we can tell in the prologue, a pretty by-the-books Catholic teen. She follows the rules, goes to Church with her Dad every Sunday, and os pretty sexually naïve… sheltered as we used to describe kids. Someone starts a rumor that Alice “tossed” a boy’s “salad” at a party and the rumor spreads like wildfire. Even the teachers know about it, and she loses her status as a gift bearer for the school’s weekly Mass. Of course, Alice doesn’t even know what “tossing salad” means (nor truthfully did I… but the movie seems to anticipate this by providing a definition to the audience at the very beginning of the film.)

All Alice knows is that she likes arm hair… like LIKES arm hair, something she discovers when she’s on an AOL chat room and someone sends her porn. That’s right, this is a film set in the early ‘00s, so if you hold any nostalgia for that time, get ready to have your fill from the era’s cheesy pop ballads to giant brick phones, to the fact that America (while starting to be so) wasn’t so health conscious that’s it not crazy to believe a teenage girl would just come home from school and snack on frosting and a giant bowl of Cheetoh’s Puffs. The nostalgia is not quite as in your face as in Captain Marvel, but it’s certainly more of a focus than it was in Lady Bird.

Yeah, you knew the comparison was coming. Let’s just be clear, this is by no means trying to be the next Lady Bird. This movie knows it’s pretty frivolous to begin with. Still, it’s hard to avoid comparison with the last big movie about a Catholic girl coming of age in the early 2000s. What I learned in watching this movie compared to Lady Bird or even Boyhood is that merely recreating aspects of my former life does not a good movie make. While I loved the fact that part of watching Lady Bird was getting to see someone shine a light on how ridiculous high school theater could be, that was never the point of the movie. Here, meanwhile, a significant purpose of the film is to highlight the fact that, yes, Kairos retreats are weird and the Church sucks. While I found myself nodding my head in agreement with what I was seeing on screen… it wasn’t exactly enjoyment as much as thinking, “yup, this is what a Kairos retreat is.” Furthermore, I feel like there are aspects of Kairos that would be great for skewering and I love the parts they absolutely nail: the cultish nature of the retreat and the pressure to frame your life in a sad way… but they ultimately take a route of criticism that is too easy and frankly is not a focus of most Kairos retreats… the focus on shaming one’s sexuality and the innate hypocrisy that behavior inevitably reveals.

If there’s a villain in this film, it’s probably the retreat leader and school priest Fr. Murphy (Timothy Simons), who gives in to rumors of Alice’s sexual impropriety as much as any schoolyard bully. No one in this whole film, from Fr. Murphy, to the head of Alice’s bunkhouse, to her small group leader, to even her best friend, takes Alice’s spiritual journey seriously, as they all assume Alice is not taking the retreat seriously as she seems to be avoiding talking about her recent, rumorous activity. Of course, there’s a bit of #MeToo hypocrisy here in that the male with whom Alice is said to have been engaged with enjoys none of the backlash that she has been dealing with. And to that degree it’s a satisfying movie in that Alice gets to dish out a little #MeToo revenge.

Still, even with all things conspiring against her, Alice retains her good spirit throughout the film… as well as her determination to further explore her sexuality. On the one hand, it’s a little unrealistic the risks she takes in trying to learn more about her body, but on the other hand teenagers and young adults are friggin’ weird when it comes to figuring out themselves. Ultimately she is emboldened in this take once she finds out that all those people who are out to get her to confess her “sins” are sinners in much the same way.

Probably the best scene comes at the end of Alice’s third day of the retreat when she runs away from the retreat center and walks into a lesbian bar where she hears the story of someone who used to be Catholic and is now not. More important than anything she could learn at the retreat, this Iowa girl learns that some normal people… just don’t have a religion. For some people this world, its pleasures, its pains, is more than enough. Alice doesn’t become a full-blown hedonist after this, but she is opened up to realize there’s more to life than Catholic guilt.

Perhaps to make this good message ring out, the film as a whole, despite some absurdist elements, feels like it’s meant to be a somewhat accurate reflection of reality. I wish the writer/director, Karen Maine had tried for a slightly more absurdist approach or taken out the absurdity altogether. She already makes the Catholic high school authority more caricature than character, and the plot at timesis almost silly. Therefore, the tone of the movie just sorta feels off throughout. Just about the only thing keeping this movie grounded is a great performance by Dyer who portrays a genuine sexual awakening very faithfully, capturing the mix of confusion, guilt, and excitement all at once. Even when Alice does something downright stupid, Dyer’s performance engenders our trust from the start, and we are always on her side. I wish I could have liked this movie more as it really does accurately portray some aspects of a Kairos retreat and is about as close as I think I’ll get to having it portrayed in a major film, but ultimately by not treating the Church authority with the same amount of nuance paid to Dyer’s Alice and her sexual awakening, the film ends up being an enjoyable, if one-noted, experience. Come to make fun of Catholics, stay for Dyer’s performance.

 **7/8 (Two and seven-eighths out of four stars)

[leointhemoon-blog]

my past with dieting

wow, i think this post might end up being long.

to begin with, i was a fat kid from the very start. i don’t think i was obese but i was, i guess, overweight. now that i look back at it, it might have been the baby fat that added to the illusion. or maybe not, since i was fatter than everyone else in my grade. 

before i even started school, i was just known to my family as that toddler that loved to eat. as with every story about eating disorders (disclaimer: i never really had an eating disorder but i guess... i almost did if that’s possible.), a likely factor would be the bullies. so in my story, my first bullies would’ve been my relatives. 

it’s funny because the word and notion of “family” are supposed to resemble people who support you and care about you. i’m not saying my family doesn’t, but i guess they just have the worst ways of showing it... maybe it’s part of being asian? 

anyway, i would remember when my parents dropped me off at my uncle’s place. he’s the second oldest brother of my mom. the uncle would every so often pick at me and say “oh who’s the chubby baby? it’s you” or some cringey baby talk that people do to toddlers-- except it’s usually “who’s a good girl” not “who’s the chubby kid”. lol. there was my cousin, his daughter, who is like at least a decade older than me who didn’t hide her dislike towards me and constantly ask “why do you eat so much?” i often didn’t answer because tbh, as a really young child, i wasn’t much of a person that reacted.

they weren’t wrong ofc. i actually did eat a hella lot. damn, i was a fat kid, deadasssss. even my mom joined on in the pinching of my belly and teasing. i think my first time being self-conscious about it was when i kept sucking in my belly as much as possible when my mom tried to force me into some uncomfortable ass jeans.

when i was a student at my third elementary school (my family moved multiple times), that’s when the bullying started. there’s a ton to say on that matter, maybe i’ll make a separate post, so i’ll just talk about the moments that really matter here. in general, the girls would often refer to me as the fat kid and sometimes would even throw in a comment or two. damn, why are kids so mean sometimes? even now, as a near young adult, i still see kids bullying each other and i can’t help but sigh in disappointment how it’s innate nature of humans to bully others. it’s kind of ridiculous. if you’re going to dislike someone, don’t show it enough to make them feel utterly terrible about themselves. if it gives you power to do so, you’re rotten trash. literally, you’re the real ugly one here.

i remember once when i was sitting a couple of rows behind the rest of the girls in my class in the auditorium of my elementary school, i was watching them talk. and they talked loud so i heard everything. they were just saying stuff like “i do this to my hair to make it look prettier” and “omg your hair is so long it’s so pretty”. i guess they caught me staring so one just smiled and said “(my name) can never be pretty enough with that short hair” to which another said “she’s kind of fat anyway”. ok, first of all-- i loved my damn ass dora the explorer hair cut ok? i was excited to go to the barbershop as a child to request the dora haircut specialty, bitch, i rocked it. i was sorta hurt by both the short hair and fat comments but like again, i didnt say anything i just looked away. 

after that, the next time my dad brought me to the hairdresser, i was rebellious as heck. i didnt want short hair. i wanted to keep it long. but you know, there’s only so much 6 year old me can do, so i got my hair cut anyway.

fast forward to fifth grade. after years of constant teasing about my shape and weight, i think i had my awakening after i finished some good ass sandwich at barnes and nobles. i told my mom i was going to use the bathroom and so i did. after washing my hands, i looked into the mirror. ahh, the mirror that makes all the self-conscious people shudder. but i think i had never felt extremely self-conscious and distraught until then. 

nobody was in the bathroom at that time, so i was brave enough to continue staring. i took in the sight of my flabby arms (which honestly wasn’t that flabby but it wasn’t thin) and most of all, my round belly. i was horrified as i turned to the side and gaped at how my stomach protruded out of my abdomen. it was like i have never noticed before. then as if a dam has been broken. all those comments and pinching at my body flooded my mind, screaming at me that yes, you are fat. you just realized? again, remind you, i literally wasn’t obese. i was overweight. two totally different things. if i want to make myself feel better, i guess i was borderline overweight only but idk, i was still fat. 

i went home that night looking up on the internet “how to be cute” and “how to be pretty” like the naive kid i was and i gave up reading on tips on how to stand or how to dress. i decided i was going to diet. 

when i refused to eat more when my mother offered another helping at dinner, i told her i was going to diet. immediately, she yelled angrily and was probably shocked, like who gave my daughter that idea what-- i was and still am a stubborn person so i persisted... i’m not going to go too deep into this because it was often just her trying to feed me and me trying to eat less and less. 

i remember when we were at this shopping mall we frequently visited and i was in the dressing room trying to fit on new bras. when my mom helped me buckle up my bra after i finished trying on things, she said, “(my name), you got skinnier. i don’t even need to clasp your bra at the outermost row.” there were three sections for adjustment. i had managed to go from the outermost one to the innermost one. her voice held disappointment, but my heart had felt so light. i was elated.

this continued on into sixth and seventh grade. that’s right, it continued on deep into middle school. except it gotten worse. not only was i cutting down on portions of meals at home, i even did so at school. i skipped lunch, opting to avoid the lunch lines. i managed to skip breakfast when one day i got the idea of lying to my mom. “dont give me breakfast at home. i can just eat the school breakfast” to which she believed and sent me off to school without realizing i really wasn’t going to eat anything. i spent classes with awkward stomach growling. at that time, i didn’t know people could hear your stomach make noises when it’s hungry so i was fine with it lol. i slimmed down by a whole lot. 

just to mention, if you’re going to lose weight, make exercise a thing. don’t strictly diet like me. i should’ve probably exercised but nah, i just depended on eating less or not eating at all. like any other rant, i’ll mention this: the rough start of my depression started at the beginning of eighth grade.

i was sick of “friendships”. sick of being used. sick of being second or third or anything else not first. sick of being manipulated. sick of being easily thrown away. most of all, i was just so sick of myself. i felt like i could never be able to have a friend. a friend i could depend on. i cut off all ties, if they barely even existed. i went into complete isolation. eighth grade was the grade i spoke not a single word to anyone. unless ofc i had to answer some question in class or do some group discussion. but even then, i honestly went so quiet. more quiet than i ever was before.

when i did speak a word outside in the hallway once, my classmate thought he was funny and said “wow, (my name) can talk?” and laughed like it was just that damn funny. idk bro, you got nothing better to laugh about? it’s nice that i matter so much to you, you had to make a comment, let alone say my name because clearly my attention wasn’t even on you in the first place. 

anyway, hell yeah, i was hella emo. and when i’m emotionally depressed af, my appetite is ruined. starting that year, i fell into constant times of not feeling like eating. by then i was already thin enough i guess. i admit, i wasn’t skin and bones. but i wasn’t overweight anymore. my skin grew paler. it became harder for me to stand up without feeling lightheaded. i began catching colds more often than i ever had before. none of that deterred me from dieting though, despite by the start of my depression, i was already midway through not strictly dieting anymore.

depression continued that for me though. it hurt to eat sometimes. when i feel like crying, when my throat feels rough, my heart feels heavy, why add to the pain by forcing myself to swallow food? i’m not bulimic, i never was. i just avoided food. i would constantly protest “mom, i’m not dieting, i really just am not hungry.” did i ever mention that throughout my years and still up to this day, my mom would constantly throw shade at me for choosing to diet in the past? it hurts every time she does. in fact, i started writing this long ass post just because she did it again today. 

i think she also started to notice my increase in depressing mood so sometimes she won’t say much if i refuse to eat. it was like my body hurt when i saw food and my mind drove me somewhere else to avoid the food placed in front of me. food repulsed me. my stomach turned at seeing it. near the end of eighth grade, i gotten into my first serious relationship with some girl 2-3 years older than me online. it lasted for about a year. honestly, it was a very rocky one. i constantly felt depressed. she was depressed too. she made me feel more depressed than i’d be if she wasn’t there, if i had to be honest. 

the week following after our breakup, i was utterly broken. 14 year old me had no idea what i was supposed to do. it was halfway through my freshman year at high school. i didn’t have much friends. i only had one. even then, they weren’t there to support me. the other one...who’s now my best friend...i had lost her contact number. it wasn’t until four months later til i finally got in touch with her again so she wasn’t there to help me through my post break up either.

if me skipping meals often because of emotions was bad, this week was the worst. i legitimately didn’t eat more than 3-4 small bites of food a day. even now, i’m surprised how i managed to survive that week on so little food and how my mom didn’t even say much. she did notice and ask “why arent you feeling hungry these days? something wrong?” to which i’d brush off. i cried a lot. a hella lot. most of the times, it was heaving like i was trying to throw up my heart. i mean, i still have my crying sessions as i’m still...hella...depressed and yeah it feels like that. it be like that sometimes. and then the moments besides “most of the times” was me sniffling on the school bus because i just couldn’t stop thinking about it.

i could’ve killed myself. i nearly could’ve. midyear exams were coming. the stress from both school and my personal life was overwhelming. my body was destroyed. but somehow, i manage to overcome myself and get myself back into focusing on the exams. damn, i was hella scholar. now i’m not though lol. but then, i was focused since i was only a freshman that had just gotten into a prestigious school. the exams had managed to make me forget about what happened temporarily.

now, i still constantly look down on my body and wonder if i’m too fat. i still fat check. i squish my thighs, stare at them, hold them, then stare again. i look at my belly, i pinch it, i stare, i hold it tight wishing i can make the fat disappear. i’m not fat per se. people now call me skinny af, call me a pile of bones (i’m not, they’re exaggerating but i wish i was tbh). i hold my arms, squishing them to see if they’re too thick or not. i still look in the mirror observing the width of my body. i still try to calculate how much i’ve eaten on a daily basis. thinking about what i ate today and how much i’ve eaten. 

perhaps, i’m not actively starving myself anymore, but those actions of paranoia and self-consciousness never left me...my stomach is probably ruined. will that stop me? probably not. i’ll be honest.

[starwritesfanfics]

Notebook Journal

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warning: Super long and rambly but pretty fluffy?

Words: 2201 Longest yet

Prompt: “I did not mean for stripping to come from this.” 

Tags: @captainswriting

  You’ve known Peter your entire school life. In preschool, you sat next to each other and that must’ve set a pattern for you both, even though you became friends in fifth grade. He was never the toughest guy, still isn’t in your opinion, he was more like a small, fluffy puppy. That didn’t have teeth. Or nails.   Okay, so he’s a stuffed animal.   So, one fateful day at recess, you saw your next desk over classmate getting picked on. Being the type of girl that never cared about getting dirty or danger, you walked up behind the bully and kicked the back of his knees. Needless to say, after you served detention time, you hid for a couple days.   You almost regretted it when Peter started following you around. Sure, you were, and still are, tough, but you’re no bodyguard. However, the brown-haired puppy-boy grew on you and soon he didn’t have to follow you; you met at the bus stop.   So grew a strong friendship. You added Ned to your small group, then Michelle (sorta, she sort of just kind of hung out with all of you), though it made people call you the Nerd Patrol. Did any of you care?   Well, a little at first, but not now.   When you turned fourteen, something changed. You didn’t see Peter as your puppy boy friend (even though he still is). You saw his awkward, lanky, adorable shyness and how much he cares about his friends. You started noticing little things about him. How he’d mess with his hair when he’d stutter nervously, how he’d send you adorable smiles when you walked by in the halls, even how he’d chew his lip during a test.    Then you realized.   You have a crush on your best friend.   Except, he has a crush on Liz and you can’t blame him. She’s beautiful and smart and they look adorable next to each other. Who really wouldn’t love Liz? And you? Just some tomboy, dorky, nerd. Sure, that’s who Peter is, minus the tomboy part, but he deserves someone perfect, like Liz.   You slam your locker shut in frustration as your thoughts race, followed by your heart when you think of Peter. All you wanna do is bang your head into it, but a quick glance to your left shows Michelle leaning against the wall with a granola bar in hand. She holds it out to you and your stomach grumbles.     “How’d you know I didn’t eat breakfast?”   She looks you over with a somewhat bored but knowing look. “Your hair’s in a messy ponytail and looks kinda greasy, you’re wearing a pair of your sweats and a loose T. Usually, you have your hair up neatly, you wear graphic Ts, and camos. So, no shower, slept in, and didn’t eat yet. Also, you’re upset.”   You sigh and take the bar from her. “You know, you’re incredibly scary when you do that.”   She shrugs, pushing off the wall. “Come on, don’t wanna miss an opportunity to draw people in distress.”   You shake your head, following her slowly. “God, you’re so strange.”   Settling into your seat, you bring your notebook out and start jotting down some thoughts, mostly about how you’re trying and failing to control your emotions for your best friend. Who just happens to choose now to sit next to you now.   “Hey, Y/n. Whatcha doing?” Peter tries to lean over to see your writing.   You shut it quickly, sliding it into your backpack and bringing out your notes for class. “Just waiting for class to start. Where were you last night? I thought we were supposed to be studying together.”   He facepalms, groaning into his hand. “Oh, crap…look, I’m so sorry, I-something came up and I had to take care of it. I am so sorry.”   “What’d you end up doing, then?” You can’t help a little suspicion from lacing your voice.   Peter seems to think hard for a moment and your heart sinks. Is he trying to think of a lie or hide something from you? Maybe you guys aren’t as good of friends as you thought.   “I had promised Ned that I’d help him his Death Star Lego set. I’m really sorry, I should’ve called.”   You nod slowly as the teacher begins the class. You try to distract yourself with small notes that probably mean nothing to this class. He was lying. You knew he was, they did the Death Star last week. What was he doing? Maybe with Liz.   That thought just makes your stomach burn.   School ends in a blur for you as you can’t focus more than four seconds without going back to why Peter would lie to you. You throw your books in your locker and grab your journal notebook to bring home. If you can just get home without getting stopped-   “Where are you going so fast?” Michelle is leaning next to the door with her arms crossed, her usual bored expression on her face.   You huff, pouting a little. “I just wanna go home. I need my shower, okay?”   “You’re hiding something.”   “What do you mean?” you sigh, just wanting to leave before Peter finds you.   “You’ve been avoiding Peter, so I’m guessing it’s because of him. What happened?”   You shift your weight uneasily. You hadn’t told anyone, not even your parents, about your huge crush on Peter Parker, so telling both of you guys’ friend…who could turn around and just tell him…but she won’t stop asking or probably let you leave until you tell her.   “Peter, okay? He happened.”   Her eyes flare slightly in realization. “I see. You’re a little jealous of the attention he gives Liz because…I see.”   You shrug and walk past her. “Like I can compete with Liz, though.”   Michelle just sighs as you leave, shaking her head slightly. You walk home quickly, not wanting to stop again before you can scream into your pillow and basically just die. You told your biggest secret to your friend and you have no idea how to process all the things that could go wrong. Running inside, you lock yourself in your room and flop on your bed.   “Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid! Why are you so stupid?”   You bury your face into your pillow for a while until you look up to check the time. The sun is already down and your room is flooded with a street light as you roll onto your back. Your notebook and backpack had fallen onto the floor next to your bed when you flopped onto your bed. You don’t bother to try and get them, though, you’d rather just die.   Or take a shower.   Deciding to do the latter, you scramble to get up and take a quick shower, coming out in a pair of shorts and old tank top with a towel to dry your hair. What were you gonna do if Michelle told someone? One thing is for sure, you were running away from New York.   You freeze as your window is pulled up and open. Now, you don’t believe in ghosts, but that there was reason to think they’re real. However, you’re sure there’s a perfectly good reason for it to open like that…on its own. Yeah. I mean, that’s what you and Peter always say when Ned tells ghost stories. So it must be true. Right?     You let out a loud sigh of relief when Spider-Man crawls in through the window, though that turns into confusion, which then turns into concern for the wall crawler as he drops with a loud groan of pain.   “Um, excuse me?” you ask softly, not wanting to startle him too much.   He tilts his head back to look at you, his mask eyes seeming to wince as he does. “Uh, y-yeah…sorry about, uh…dropping in on you.”   You chuckle softly at his quip, as lame as it may sound. “Think I can help?”   He nods. “That’d be much appreciated, thank you.”   You quickly run back into the bathroom to grab your medical supply box that your mom had made you make in case of emergencies. It’s not that big, but it has some peroxide, anti-biotic cream, bandages, and cotton balls to use. You jog back into your room to see him trying to stand up on his own, legs shaking slightly. Dropping your bag next to your bed, you grab his arm and have him sit on your bed.   “Easy, Mr. hero. Don’t over exert yourself.”   He huffs, groaning softly. “Fine.” You grab your bag again and stand in front of him, shifting your weight slightly on your feet. “Um, okay, so…I did not mean for stripping to come out of this.”   He tilts his head slightly, wondering where in the world you’re going with this.   “I need you to take your suit off.”   “T-the mask, too?” he asks, suddenly very worried.   Your eyes widen. “No! No, no no, not unless you wanna…I just wanna help with where it hurts the most.”   He nods slowly, agreeing with you finally as he presses the button in the middle of his suit, loosening it up so it just slips off. You look down into the bag, blushing a dark red. If you paid more attention to guys’ body types at school or around you, you might be able to tell who he really is with him bare in front of you. Well, besides his boxers and mask. That only makes you blush darker.   You kneel in front of him, soaking a cotton ball in peroxide. “This is gonna suck,” you mutter.   He chuckles softly and you swear you’ve heard it before. “I took the hit, I can take the cleaning.”   You shrug slightly, pressing the cotton ball to one of the cuts that litter his torso. You hear him hiss under his mask, his muscles all tense, but he doesn’t pull away, so he’s pretty disciplined. You gently blow on it to keep the sting down and to dry it before you put a bandage on it, just like you’d do with a child. You don’t know he’s blushing under his mask.   Just as you go to put some anti-biotic on the bandage, only to find out you didn’t have enough. You growl, running a hand through your hair in frustration.   “Everything okay?” Spider-Man asks with concern.   “Yeah. Just stay put, I gotta run downstairs for more Neosporin which is in the downstairs bathroom because my house is dumb, so stay.”   You quickly run down to the bathroom, searching the drawer for the Neosporin before sprinting back upstairs. You sigh in relief as you don’t hear anything moving in your room, thinking he’s still sitting where you left him. You open the door and look up from the tube in your hands to talk to him, but you freeze.   He’s reading your notebook.   “What do you think you’re doing?!” you yell at him, making him jump and fumble the notebook, failing to catch it, so it falls back to your floor. He scrambles to sit as casually as possible, only looking more tense.   “I, uh…oops?”   You growl, grabbing your hair tightly. “How much did you read?”   “Just that…you have a crush on m-your best friend. Peter Parker?”   You nod slowly, sighing heavily as you walk back over to him. “Yeah…but it’s dumb. He doesn’t like me back, he likes this perfect girl named Liz. I don’t have a chance.”   “How do you know that? Have you asked him?” his voice sounds tense to you. You give him a look as you start wrapping the bandages around his body. “Like I could.”   He stays quiet for a while before you see him reach his hand up towards his mask, slowly pulling it off his head. It comes off in almost slow motion for you, first revealing tousled brown hair, then nervous looking eyes that you know so well, then finally the face of your crush and best friend.   “Peter?!” you screech, stumbling back away from him. “What the fu-“   He jumps off the bed and covers your mouth with his hand, though that pretty much left him hovering over you. “Don’t scream! Please. No one else can know, okay?”   You tear his hand away and scramble up, gasping softly for air. “Oh, my god, you’re Spider-Man…oh, my god…”   He watches you pace nervously in front of him, rubbing his arms slightly. It’s kinda cold being pretty much naked.   You pause, turning towards him with wide eyes. “So, you know Iron Man? And Captain America, Thor, Black Widow, all of them?”   He nods slowly. “Yeah…I mean, I’m pretty much an Avenger.”   A huge smile graces your lips. “Oh, my god! That’s so awesome! You have to tell me how everyone’s like! Is Iron Man really such a playboy? Is Cap’s shield really heavy? Can you lift Thor’s hammer? Is Black Wi-“   You’re cut off by him pulling you close and pressing his lips to yours gently, shutting you up.   “In case you were wondering, I do like you, too.” He chuckles softly as you gape at him.   “Well…you could’ve just said so,” you murmur, connecting your lips again.

  “…Okay, but seriously, answer my questions and put some clothes on. I ain’t like that.”

[fereality-indy]

What Ifs

What if…? These two words, this phrase, have dominated my life for as long as I’ve been cognitive. When I was younger it was ‘what if this movie/cartoon was real?’ or ‘what if I add this cheese to my scrambled eggs this morning?’ or ‘what if Flair fought Hogan?’ or something like that, As I got older (grade school age) the ‘what if’s…?’ began to include me & my decisions more and more, I began to get into things like ‘what if I didn’t pass that test?’, ‘what if I wasn’t such a nerd?’(major self-esteem issues back then), or even ��what if my mom & step dad hadn’t been introduced?’. Most of these were still just ponderings and an occasional day dream until around fourth or fifth grade and that was when I had the first of what I call the ‘Dream Walks’ (and no they have nothing to do with the Australian or Native American coming of age ceremonies) where I had a nearly full conscious and totally recalled dream that lasted my full 8 hours or so of REM sleep where I seemingly lived out my life after I had fallen asleep wondering ‘what if I had not passed my tests to get into the Academically Talented program?’ (I tested with an IQ in the 160/170’s in the second grade) that had kept me in my grade school at that time with most of my family and friends. In the dream I ended up not passing and despite the doctors feeling I was smart they just didn’t feel I was AT program material so they sent me a different school where I ended up being an even bigger social outcast and the target of bullies till I ended up becoming a sycophant and working for a group of punks and finally ruining my life. The dream was so vivid and was also one of the first times I that experienced receiving an injury in a dream and waking to find a bruise or scar in the location of the injury. I woke that morning with a mild bruise across my stomach where I had been hit by a baseball bat in my dream just prior to my awaking. By the time I was in junior high Marvel’s “What If?” comics were among my favorite comics and the ‘Dream Walks’ were happening almost every other month and I was even starting to show up/recall the dreams of some of my close friends (most of which were ones where they were dreaming what if scenarios or having nightmares where I showed up and helped them somehow). My ‘what ifs’ were becoming even more frequent and both personal and societal along the lines of ‘what if my father had not married his second wife?’ or ‘what if we (the USA) had not gotten involved in the middle eastern conflicts that were going on at the time?’ (at the time I was still thinking of a military career and these conflicts along with family/friends who had served during Vietnam steadily changed my mind). By high school I had dropped my math/science major (mostly because at the time they weren’t presenting me with any challenge and I was beginning to wonder if my Dream Walks & ‘what ifs?’ weren’t just a way for my subconscious to come up with new ways to stimulate me. Trying to consciously challenge myself I dropped the Math/Sci magnet like I said and I went into studying Foreign Languages, Russian to be precise. It was a poor choice on my part to say the least. The Russian classes were all taught together (no matter what your skill/grade level) and all four years of the program's social studies was taught by one teacher who for some reason took an instant dislike for me. On the other hand I was passing nearly all my other classes with flying colors (ok yeah I struggled some in gym, but only some). I was also blossoming more socially in high school than I ever did in other school levels (example: in 5th grade a classmate wrote some “Nightmare on Elm St” fan fiction with our class cast in several different roles, most of the class were the terrified students Freddy chases/kills and they had big parts/lot of lines. Me, I was a teacher with one whole line about me and I’m not sure I even talked), but by the second week in high school I had friends in nearly every clique/social group. I didn’t get any of the hazing done to me that I saw other freshman take, and heck before that first winter I even had a girlfriend. When I was younger I started a focused meditation because of a hair trigger anger issue and really started wondering if the ‘Dream Walks” and the ‘What Ifs?’ were through because of the combination, but then as I started getting bored in school again they started up again. “What if my nephew and another friend hadn’t been able to pull me off the friend’s brother as I had snapped and had had him in what I now know as a ‘rear naked choke hold’?” and “What if the vice principal hadn’t been lenient when I shattered a friends glasses?” (I had walked up to a group of friends when one of them had jokingly pulled my girlfriend [now ex wife] onto his lap, I walked up to him and jokingly swung a slap at him that would’ve been softer than if a pillow had hit him, this was the way it was described by nearly everyone seated there including him, but as my hand got about an inch & or so away from his face my wrist snapped and so did his face and his glasses flew from him shattering into about 8 pieces before they hit the ground. Needless to say no one really messed with me after seeing/hearing about that. Some of the rumors floating around after that were funny. My favorite was that I was some gang enforcer hiding out at the school cause I had squealed on someone. :-/), were the two most prominent ones I remember from this period. In the first dream the assault resulted in me being convicted of accidental manslaughter after losing out on my self-defense plea because the ‘gun’ he had chased me with had turned out to be a broken air pistol, the incident this dream was about had happened in in grade school or early in JR high and all of us were friends again within a couple of weeks. The second dream had me being suspended and eventually expelled forcing me to enroll in another school to finish out my high school years making me leave nearly all my friends and causing me to lose the most important person in my life at that point. It was also during this period I had gotten the most prominent of my dream wounds, in the dream I was fighting someone (trying to keep a good friend safe) when the guy pulled out a knife. I had had blocked/dodged a few of his swings when he lunged at me with a forward stab, foolishly I had attempted to grad his wrist when instead I ended up grabbing the blade and it sliced my palm. The force of my grab caused him to lose hold of the blade and finally he fled saying “that silver knife shoulda done more?”. As I turned to check on my friend the pain from my hand blindly flashed and I woke up with a scar on my left hand that crosses my lower lifeline and ends near the middle of my palm. By the end of high school I had a few more that had rolled around “What if I hadn’t need the tonsillectomy that had caused me to flunk out of the Foreign Language magnet?”, “What if I hadn’t broken up with my ex wife at the end of sophomore year?”, “What if I hadn’t broken up with my psycho ex to get back with my future ex wife after the kiss/smack incident?” (we had separated after sophomore year and a friend's girlfriend set me up on a blind date with a girl who was crazier than . Quarter/half way through Junior year she and I started really talking as friends again and by that spring she came over one weekend and helped me paint our front fence, we started joking around and I realized how much I still cared for her. She did/said something smart-assed and I replied to it ‘I don’t know whether the kiss ya or smack ya?’ and she replied ‘Well which is it?’ to which I pulled her into a kiss. Within a week or so we were back together.) Most of these had sorta negative scenes with the worst being not having a relationship with my ex wife and the boys not being born. After high school I focused on trying to go to college, helping raise my son, and continued to work at a local grocery store. After a little while I was having trouble trying to do all three so I dropped school so I could focus on work and the little one. This is a regret I still have through today. I should have stayed with the schooling and forgotten about grocery store . Shortly before I quit school we had gotten a new store manager, shortly after I quit school he found out a couple of my coworkers were sleeping with a third coworker (she had a fiancé, and finally she decided she was through ‘playing with them’, her words not mine) and they lost their jobs (official reason was they were supposedly taking money from one of the tills and wrapping it up as meat, but they both worked in the meat department and had no access to any of the registers. There were no charges filed and no arrests against them, but she kept her job and had no problems as she was the manager’s ‘God-daughter’.) You may be asking how did this affect me, well I was good friends with all three of them and knew what was really was going on, so the manager tried to trump up some lame charge that I was ‘seen’ shoplifting. The previous manager had been trying to talk me into training to become one of the overnight assistant managers as I was one of his most trusted cashiers, so if there had been any problems with me they would’ve never been offering to train me for that position. This soured me on work and work place politics for a long while. After all this, there were a few other issues that came but mostly these were few and far between. I started working at a Masonic Lodge as a caretaker, we got married, I got my first job at Walmart, left there to work for the state, my second son was born and life became even busier. The greatest ‘Dream Walk’/‘What if?’ that came up around this time was “What if I had asked my other choice out that day?”. You see leading up to the day my ex wife & I started going out I had been going back and forth in my mind as to who I was going to ask out, my ex wife or another friend of ours named my other friend. I ran into my ex wife as I was heading to a class and before she walked into her class we both asked each other out. But in this dream I ran into my other friend first that day and ended up asking her out first, we ended up staying together all through high school and my ex wife ended up dating the guy who my other friend dated in the real world. In this dream world my other friend and I ended up dating for a year or so after high school before things ended and sometime after that I ran into my ex wife at a store of some type and we hit it off and started dating. By the time we had started having our problems the ‘What Ifs?’ and the ‘Dream Walks’ had started coming back stronger than ever. I’d share some of these but unfortunately a lot of the ‘What Ifs?’ and ‘Dream Walks’ were some of the first memories I seemed to have lost when I began having the seizures. I only remember a very few of them from the time the ex and I separated until our divorce (nearly 5- 6 years as I wanted to make sure she had insurance at first and then we had to wait till we could afford it) and I really don’t like most of the ones I do remember because they show a side of me I really haven’t seen since I was young and first started meditating; they showed a selfish, mean, angry, and downright nasty version of myself. In one I had went to a party at a female friend (and crush’s) house and while in real life I had stayed with her after she had gotten drunk, to keep a few idiots at the party from taking advantage of her, which she later thanked me for, in the dream I stayed with her but I was the one who hooked up with her and while she wasn’t upset with me it did end up ruining our friendship as she could no longer trust me. I also had one where I had finally let my guard down and lost control of my anger. I ended up killing someone in the dream and I liked the feeling so much I ended up becoming a serial killer. I somewhat blame that one on fact that shortly before the dream I saw a news report about a guy who ended up killing his wife/fiancé/girlfriend in a fit of rage and stuffed her body in a deep freezer, as I watched it I realized he was the same guy who protected me from bullies in grade school and who was one of the biggest helpers with me learning to control my anger back then. That really knocked me for a loop. Now-a-days, I deal with my ‘What Ifs?’ as they come and they still weigh heavily on me as I ponder whether they are just flights of fancy or if I’m actually glimpsing into other universes/realities where I seem to somehow be a unifying thread.

[tobyyyh]

This is Me

In my educational experience just going to school for an education wasn’t enough. Leaving your house for at least 6-8 hours a day five day a week, you learn more at school socially than anywhere else. From following my mother to work for her and school for me, to now being almost on my own in college. I’m still having a hard time to fit in and actually be accepted into a social group. I sorta just stand out on my own. But I have learned to love and accept that.

But first growing up it wasn’t so easy. You’d think young children wouldn’t know how to be prejudice or judgmental right? But low and behold they do. My mom was a teacher, so she was around kids all day every day. That opened up some opportunities for me, like being able to go to a school where she worked which was a private school. Already I was coming in knowing almost all of the staff members because of my mother. Soon I found out the teachers were not like the children at all. It was late September I started school later than the other kids because my admissions to a month to process. My first I was eager to meet new people and how an amazing year. My teacher was kind and sweet, the whole class adored her. But during nap time things took a turn for the worse, I was teased and kicked while I slept because I was chunkier than the other kids. In our little private school, we had these plastic and mesh cots. Ok so they were bought for a specific body type. Everyone in the class were small and slender, unlike me I was wider and had extra pounds on me. It was impossible for me to get any rest, and every twist and turn I made the cot would creek. One little boy woke up and started saying “You’re too big sleep on the floor” another chimed in saying “Yeah fatty get off”. Their giggles and comments woke the rest of the kids and they all started to pick on me too. I have no idea where my teacher was during this whole ordeal. But I couldn’t take the teasing anymore, and I started to ball out crying. Like “Boo-Who” and tears like waterfalls. It was like that for the rest of the day and school year. I hated the way I looked, but my mom showed me I was special just the way I was.

That made me complete for the next couple years, but now everything changed I was off to middle school. I was coming from a predominately white elementary school into a predominant black and minority school. Its like throwing a cat in a dog pound and I was the cat. It was jus the beginning for me. Lauderdale Lakes Middle wasn’t my first choice it was originally Crystal Lakes Middle but, my mom said it was better for me in the long run. What I didn’t realize is that I had assimilated with my former environment and I talked “white”. What I learned was to annunciate my words and say every little syllable. I wasn’t accustom to the urban slang and Ebonics, or the overall crude and obscene language. Another thing I noticed was my shoes didn’t match anything. The other kids had the new Jordan’s and everything. As the kids would say “my shoe game was weak”. It was a whole new atmosphere for me. I didn't know what it meant to match, or color coordinate my clothes. My attitude towards how I precepted my environment was different than my other classmates. I was so use to looking from head to toe with people, but at lakes they let their shoes do the talking. So, if you had “fire” shoes you were accepted into the popular hierarchy.

Then the bullying begun, my first year of middle school, consisted of me getting my feelings hurt and fat shamed. My grades suffered because of my lowered self-esteem. But one day that all changed, my middle school was kind of quirky, they attempted to have a seventh block which was just a free period for everyone in the school. That day I thought I should talk to this girl that I liked. Her name was Natalie she was short, light skinned, and had a lot of attitude. She wore her hair in slicked back ponytail. I had the biggest crush on her, she was everything that a little boy wanted. But I picked the wrong day, worst mistake ever! I had to talk myself into talking to her in the first place, because she was surrounded by all her friends (she was like queen bee). So went ahead and put my shoulders back and held my head high and walked up to her. I felt like the man, I had my new white Converses (I’d soon regret choosing that color) with my navy blue pants, and a white polo shirt. As my fellow peers would say I was “lookin fresh”. It was great she was just as sweet as I thought she was. But what I didn’t realize was things were about to take a turn for the worse. I was politely having a conversation with her when I was cornered by Reno and his goonies. Reno was basically the jock of the 6th grade class, he was dark like charcoal, and he had this ugly scar on his chin. He had a toned body and was pretty much the ghetto version of Justin Bieber. All the girls flaunted over him. But he was my terrorizer, the one person I feared. Why was on his radar I don’t know why, but he had it out for me. I was talking to Natalie right, everything was going great she was smiling it was amazing. What I forgot to do was check my back, next thing I knew I was face first in a pile of dirt. Be mindful I was wearing white! I looked up and saw him laughing with his friends, and on lookers started to chime in. Natalie tried to help me up, but I brushed her off. I’m not sure what really happened but when I got up all I saw was reno. It was like tunnel vison and he was the only person in site. I had no prior fighting experience, all I know how to was just jump and hold on to something so that’s what I did. I ran up behind Reno and leaped onto his back and grabbed his neck as I threw him into the same dirt pile I was in everyone just stood in awe as the chunky kid went all out on the kid who terrorized him. I was sent to my assistant principal’s office obviously, but I didn’t receive any consequences because it was self-defense. From that day forward, I wasn’t bothered any more from anyone. I didn’t get the girl but oh well. What I learned was that you have to throw a couple punches to fit in.