#this is why everything being tech revolved now fucking sucks

[strxwberry-skiess]

i literally have gotten nothing accomplished over this break bc every time i try to do something productive, shit hits the fucking ceiling, wtf.

[silversatoru]

Hi, I just finished burdens and OML 🥺🥺🥺

May I request some sort of megumi x reader continuous where the reader ends up becoming a powerful sorcerer (or a cursed spirit👀 whichever you’d like tbh) megumi and the reader somehow cross paths again a little while after the break up and he witnesses her fighting for the first time? I just know that boy would fall in love all over again but she’s moved on and he feels guilty and just angst? And maybe fluff idk. I’m new to requests so I hope I did this right, thank you so much❤️❤️

burdens pt. 2

a/n: hello, part two of this not-so-lovely story is finally here. every single one of you is allowed one free punch to my face for taking so long to write it,,, i’m so sorry. this is its fourth rewrite and it got a little darker than expected but it’s finally done,, i hope you enjoy <3

fushiguro megumi x f!reader

synopsis: you finally see megumi again at the kyoto sister school goodwill event

tags/warnings: angst, some graphic depictions of violence, character death

word count: 3k

“Do you know how tired I am of watching the people I love die? Things would be so much easier for me if you just stayed the fuck away”.

Megumi’s bitter words were on repeat in your head — the harshness of his voice leaving a hollow feeling carved into your chest. Tear-stained cheeks and shaky breathes had become your new normal these past few days. Tight, sharp pains filled your empty stomach, waves of nausea coursing through your body.

You’ve had no motivation to get out of bed lately, nevermind to shower or cook yourself a proper meal — honestly, for all you cared you could rot away in your blanket filled bed. You checked your phone like a fiend too, thinking that eventually, a miraculous text from Megumi would appear and make everything better. It never did.

He’d completely ghosted you since that dreadful day, and that hurt more than anything. You’d held onto a sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, he hadn't meant what he said. But as the days continued to pass, your hope quickly dwindled.

To say your current state was shameful was putting it lightly, and you were embarrassed at how poorly this was effecting you. You liked to think that you were strong, motivated, independent — that you didn't need some douchebag just to feel happy. But truth be told, breakups are fucking hard, and it's okay to not be okay for a while — or at least that's what you kept telling yourself.

So when you were trudging miserably down the street to your local convenience store and you saw a familiar pair of jujutsu sorcerers, you wanted desperately to sink into the ground. You made a quick turn to head to a different shop, but it was too late, you were spotted.

“y/n! hey!” Two lighthearted voices sang through the air, filling your ears and making your heart clench in your chest.

You turned around and anxiously approached them, your unkempt hair and baggy eyes sending looks of concern across their faces.

“Hey girl, you good?” Nobara shot you a sideways glance, Maki raising a suspicious eyebrow.

“Yeah, uh, ice cream,” You croaked, speaking for the first time in a couple days, “I’m here for ice cream, that’s all”.

“Yeah, but why do you look like a fucking zombie?” Maki pushed her eyeglasses further up her nose, her sharp eyes looking you up and down.

“Ah, he didn’t say anything to you guys, did he?” You shook your head, heavy eyes falling to ground as you refused to meet theirs.

“Don’t tell me…” Nobara’s face contorted, “Did he break up with you?”

You nodded, a pitiful chuckle falling from your lips, because if you didn’t laugh, you’d start sobbing right now.

Maki threw her arm around your shoulder, pulling you to her side and ushering you into the store, “It’s okay, men suck. Hang out with us today”.

Meanwhile, Nobara trailed quickly behind the two of you, anger seething from her teeth and steam practically billowing out of her ears.

“That fuckhead! I swear I’ll fuck his shit up big time, he won’t even know what fucking hit him. I knew that boy was stupid but shit, this is a whole new low for him! I-,” She continued to ramble and rant as Maki led you through the store, picking out drinks and snacks to help ease your pain.

The three of you ended up in a nearby park, sitting around a small picnic table and gorging on the massive array of snacks. Lighthearted conversation and lots of food make your chest ache a little less, and you even found yourself laughing and chatting as if things were normal. You’d told the two of them all about that day, about Megumi’s irrational words and his tragic breakdown that led to some kind of fucked-up break up sex.

“So, how are we gonna get back at him? Egg his car? Put bleach in his shampoo? Bugs in his food? God - it’s a shame his dad is dead because from the pictures I’ve seen that man was FINE and revenge sex—,”

“Nobara,” Maki shot her idiot girlfriend a dirty look, and the orange-haired girl quickly shut her mouth, “As much as I support any idea that revolves around ruining a man’s day, I don’t think revenge is the healthiest coping strategy here”.

You were tracing your eyes around Maki’s face as she spoke, and you found yourself carefully inspecting her purple glasses that rested softly on the bridge of her nose. And that’s when it clicked, the light bulb ignited in your head and you knew exactly what you wanted to do.

“Maki,” your voice was urgent, “You don’t have cursed energy, you can’t even see them without your glasses!”

Her face twisted and her nose scrunched, a look of distaste in her eyes, “I know?”

“So, you could teach me, right? You could help me learn how to use some cursed weapons?”

“Yeah! You have to Maki, then she can beat his ass with me,” Nobara chimed in.

“That’s not a bad idea actually,” Maki’s mouth formed an evil grin, “Could you imagine his face after watching you exorcise a curse?”

The three of your conversed for a bit longer, speculating and potting about training, weapons, and your very own pair of curse-seeing glasses. By the end of the night you had a plan, and a pretty good one if you say so yourself.

From that day on, teary eyes and achy hearts were a thing of the past, not because it was that easy to get over Megumi, but because Maki didn’t even allow you the time to feel dismal anymore. You met her everyday after classes without fail, and everyday she would train you until you thought your arms would fall off. After months and months of sore muscles, sweat, and the occasional injury, you were convinced that Maki was incapable of feeling pity or remorse for other living things. Every time you speculated about quitting, she’d set a fire under you, unafraid to remind you how weak you still were.

The green-haired sorcerer had ultimately decided that you worked best dual-armed -- a long, lightweight blade in each hand. On your final day of training, she officially gifted the two swords to you, as a “graduation” gift.

Skill-wise, you were by no means as incredible Maki, but you definitely held your own, and the progress you’d made in a mere 8 months was astronomical. They’d introduced you to a strange silver-haired man at some point, Gojo, who had taken not only an interest in you but also your plot against your ex-boyfriend. He cackled to himself when you told him why you were here, going on and on about how priceless Megumi’s face would be when he saw you.

Your appearance was highly anticipated, so why not debut at one of the biggest jujutsu events all year? The Kyoto Sister School Goodwill Event — Gojo thought it was the most perfect idea.

You tried hard to exude confidence as you walked at Nobara and Maki’s sides, but behind your arrogant facade your stomach was twisting itself into knots. Truthfully, you were scared to see Megumi again after so long.

And when your eyes met with his as you walked into the meeting room, you thought you just might pass out. You thought you were ready for this — but the look of complete shock, fear, and anger on his face as he looked you up and down almost made you regret all of it.

“What’s going on?” Megumi’s words were incredibly calculated, an edge on his voice.

His question was pointless, however, because judging by the fact that you were wearing a jujutsu tech uniform and had two swords sheathed at your sides could only mean one thing. Your hair was longer now too, and your frame was wider with an extra layer of muscle from all the training — you almost looked like a different person.

“I’ve been training with Maki, I-,” You spoke up to explain yourself, but you weren’t even granted the opportunity.

“No, no, Maki, what the hell did you do?” His eyes were shaky and laced with concern.

“I only did what she asked me to. I’m not the one who gave her a complex about being weak, you did that,” Maki shrugged, “and she’s not your girlfriend anymore dude, what do you care?”

Absolute confliction flashed through his eyes, uncertainty and madness swirling in his irises, “You’re right, I don’t care. Let me know when the event is starting”.

He took a sharp turn out of the room and let the door slam a little too hard behind him. The sound of his icey voice and the door shutting with unkind force was all too reminiscent of the night you broke up. Burying every emotion you had deep into your stomach you gave Maki a small, reassuring smile and plopped down on one of the couches.

“Alright, so when does this thing start?”

after the start of the event

Fighting the Kyoto students was proving to be much harder than you initially expected, but you were holding your own at Maki’s side. The two of you had easily taken down a small, kind, blue haired girl named Miwa, and now you were watching an emotional battle between Maki and her sister unfold.

Wait here, she’d told you, I want to do this one myself. Take some notes on my form and watch our backs, okay?

Okay, you’d said, a little confused but ultimately finding a nice spot up in a thick tree to carefully observe from. Maki was truly a force of nature, and it seemed like the other girl never actually had a chance of winning. It was honestly only a few minutes before the small black, haired girl was slumped against a tree and Maki was making her way back to you. Things were looking good, two of Kyoto’s student’s were down already and adrenaline was pumping through your veins.

You couldn't quite shake the awful feeling churning in your stomach though, and Megumi’s face was haunting your thoughts. You hadn’t seen him since before the event started, when an odd, pink haired boy jumped out of a box and freaked everyone out. Nobara had later explained who he was and what had happened, and you wondered how many awful surprises Gojo had planned today -- first you, then that.

A small rumble rippled under your feet, and Maki grabbed your arm as you watched a giant brown vine lurch it’s way out of the ground a few hundred yards in the distance.

“That technique doesn’t belong to anyone from Kyoto,” She shot you a look of concern and determination, “let’s go check it out”.

You gave her a firm nod, the two of you making your way towards the horrifying wooden vines. By the time you managed to arrive, Inumaki was already down and so was a dark-haired boy from Kyoto. A muscular, white curse with black markings and wooden branches for eyes was moments away from taking Megumi on all by himself — thank god you got here in time to help.

Megumi, however, was horrified when he saw you jump over the tall roofed building with Maki at your side. He’d just watched two incredible sorcerers get their shit rocked by this curse, there was no way you would stand a chance against this thing. But before he could even try to stop you, you and the green-haired sorcerer were flying through the air and taking shots at the curse. The two of you worked perfectly in sync, the months of daily training finally paying off.

He watched with intent glazed over his eyes, his heart threatening to lurch up his throat. You were a spectacle, and he always thought you were beautiful but seeing you now with dirt and blood stained clothes, cursed weapons gripped firmly in your hands, you truly were ethereal. He hated it though, he hated that he was falling in love with you all over again, especially under these circumstances. Guilt and anxiety was eating away at him — why did you have to get involved? Why couldn’t you have just stayed away like he told you to?

He was quick to join the two of you, sticking close to your side to protect you if need be — but, even with all three of you together the curse still had the upper hand. Maki had been swatted to the side, her back slamming hard against one of the tiled roofs and knocking her unconscious. It was down to just the two of you now, beads of sweat causing your hair to uncomfortably stick to the back of your neck. This was something that Maki’s training could have never prepared you for.

Megumi was getting tired, taking one wrong step and losing his footing momentarily. The curse saw this as a perfect window of opportunity, sending a spiral of vines and branches hurling for Megumi. It was fast, but the adrenaline coursing through you helped you to move faster, launching yourself through the air and intercepting the attack. The barky, wooden vines twisted violently through your stomach, shooting clean through your back and ripping a violent scream from your throat.

It hurt so bad, feeling the plant wriggle through your organs and tear you apart from the inside out. The curse retracted his vine a few moments later, leaving your mangled body to fall helplessly to the roof. Tears rippled from your eyes, your body shaking and seizing as you coughed up a few sprays of blood.

A long, strong pair of arms scooped you up instantaneously, and your head was resting against a firm chest — probably Megumi, but you didn’t quite have the energy to open your eyes to check.

“We’ll take it from here, get her to Ieiri!” You heard a pair of deep voices yelling to Megumi, but it was too foggy and far away for you to understand what they were saying.

Megumi was seething with anger, moving as fast as his feet could carry him and he ran through the school. As you waved in and out of consciousness, you batted open your eyes, stealing quick glances at his twisted features and — were those tears on his face?

“I- I’m sorry Megumi… I think I finally understand what you were so afraid of all this time,” Your voice was barely a croak, “when I saw it coming, I couldn’t stomach the thought of having to watch you die. I suddenly just thought I would do anything to keep you safe”.

Yeah, those were definitely tears, you could see them a little clearer now. His eyes were red and his cheeks were dried with salty streaks.

“You’re so thick-headed,” he mumbled, his grip around you tightening slightly as he picked up his pace, “I wish you would have made that realization before there was a giant hole in your stomach”.

“Me too,” You hummed, but you weren’t really in any pain anymore. The pain had subdued to a sweet warm sensation inside your stomach, and an intoxicating sleepiness was washing over your head, “I was angry for a long time, but I’m not mad at you anymore, Gumi. I hope you can forgive me too”.

You offered him a tiny smile, but the blood leaking from between you keeps made it anything but sweet.

“There’s nothing to forgive you for, you never did anything wrong,” He spoke quickly, his voice quiet and cracking.

“No, but we’re not gonna make it to Ieiri, I know that and so do you,” You fell into a violent fit of coughs again, sputtering red splatters all over the front of his uniform.

“Shut up”.

“It’s not your fault, none of it was ever your fault,” you choked out once the fit of coughs subsided — and you weren’t just talking about yourself, you were talking about all of the unfortunate tragedies he’d witnessed throughout this life.

“And you’re allowed to be selfish sometimes, you know? I hope that when you meet someone, your soulmate even, you can allow yourself to love them with every part of you”.

The words painfully left your lips, but you meant every single one of them. You were starting to realize that you and Megumi were never meant to make it to the end. You weren’t his soulmate, you were here to help him grow, so that when he did finally meet them he’d be ready.

“You deserve to be loved, Megumi,” You looked up at him with big eyes, but his face was starting to get really fuzzy now.

Your fingers were going numb and your mouth felt like it was filled with sand. You were so tired, letting your eyes flutter shut and your head rest softly against Megumi’s chest. You felt him stop running, you could even hear him screaming at you — but it was too far away for you to hear. You drifted closer and closer to eternal sleep, your soul swollen with love for the boy who broke your heart.

Megumi didn’t even feel sad when you stopped breathing in his arms — he just felt hollow. More empty and broken than he’d ever thought possible. You were the most incredible person he’d ever met — someone with extreme motivation, who acted with no fear or hesitation, who always had love to give, even when he didn’t deserve it. He’d never forget you, not for as long as he’d live anyway.

Even when he did meet a new girl a few years later — a compassionate, brave girl, who reminded him a lot of you — he wouldn’t forget. He wouldn’t forget your words and for the first time in his life he’d let his walls down for her. He’d allow himself to truly love, and be loved in return.

And maybe you were right, maybe he did deserve to be loved like this, because god, he finally feels whole again when she’s around. He just wishes you were still here so he could say thank you.

[giantroboticplatypusbutt218]

I finished watching Loonatics Unleashed and I have Some Thoughts. I guess this is like a part 2 to the other post I made about the show so yeah.

I swear I don’t intend for everything I write to be an essay but whatever. It’s all under the cut. No massive story spoilers, but I will talk about episodes and will warn accordingly. (But who actually cares about being spoiled on the plot of Loonatics Unleashed?)

Alright so I finally figured out why Ace has laser vision. ...It’s kinda dumb but it’s because rabbits eat carrots(in cartoons). It’s... a reason at least. Still kinda sucks that it’s his only power when everyone else got 2 and some change. Kickass swords don’t count, even if they are magic. Seriously; Transformation. Duplication. Imitation. Tons of other “ation”s. They could’ve leaned into his trickster side but no. He eats carrots... so he got laser vision. Also he only ate carrots like three times in the show so wtf...

Okay so the pacing... improved somewhat in season 2. Don’t get me wrong there were still problems in some episodes but at least they learned how to build the stakes until the climax. They still sometimes went from zero to eighty after the opening credits, but at least it wasn’t zero to a hundred. Much less whiplash was had is what I’m saying. 

I don’t think I really mentioned the villains before but they’re uh... generally not very good. They’ve got cool gimmicks but most of the time they’re just two stereotypes and a cliche in a trench coat. Season 2 brought back classic anthro characters to be villains a few times, and while they still weren’t well written and just referenced old bits half the time... at least they weren’t dehumanized humans. 

I also don’t think I mentioned the animation so... it’s fine. It’s got cut corners but all cartoons do. Sometimes fight scenes look cool, sometimes they’re stiff. Sometimes the slapstick is well timed, sometimes it’s not. Sometimes the facial expressions match the voice acting, sometimes they don’t. Speaking of voice acting, it’s good. There’s not really anything stand out to perform in the first place but everyone does a good job with what they have. 

Okay random note before getting deeper into things... the intro themes were... not good. I swear the first song ended on a note that it wasn’t supposed to. The second song fixed that but added people announcing the characters which... is just worse to me. Not much else to say because I skipped them after the first few times. 

(Very mild spoilers for the general plots of episodes past this point.)

Ace and Lexi improved a little in the second season, but I still find them kinda bland. Ace still just feels like zero calorie Bugs Bunny. His wit is confined to being the leader, snarky comebacks, and some decent sleuthing skills... and that’s really it. He doesn’t really play around with the villains the way Bugs would. Ace was also supposed to have an arc learning to use his magic sword which... didn’t really happen. Lexi’s defining trait outside of her powers is still that she’s “the girl” which... sucks... Uh... she upgraded to Gamer Girl in the second season which while neat, amounted to nothing outside that one episode. At the very least she was never kidnapped for more than 5 seconds?(That “honor” goes to Zadavia) They also never really brought up their backstories in a meaningful way again, which sucks. 

I still like the rest of the team. Slam got an episode about wrestling that built on his backstory and was fun to watch. Duck discovered that his egg powers work differently in water which was neat and matched him being a waterfowl.(Lexi’s powers work differently in water too but it’s never brought up again). Rev is still Rev and I still love him. He got an episode about his family and struggle to impress them(specifically his parents) despite his career choice which was also neat, but I will be coming back to this episode later. Tech is also still Tech and I also still love him. But uh, every character and also me wanted to see him get out of the lab more, and then he got like a nibble of an episode to get out of the lab, and then the show was over. Oof.

Speaking of Tech, it might be for the best he hardly ever left the lab because his powers are... possibly way too effective against all the robots and machines the team fights. Now, him being “overpowered” could’ve been used as a fun writing challenge. Robot goons aren’t a good option for villains anymore. Fighting against him in a city filled with metal is harder. Villains can’t rely on simply killing him thanks to his regeneration. Fight scenes including Tech would have to be handled in a fun and interesting way. But... no. In a team with two tech guys, the one with super speed and flight comes with while the one who can control metal and literally can’t die stays behind. Oh well. Doubt they could’ve added him into more fights without accidentally dumbing him down anyway. 

Oh crap I forgot to talk about Zadavia! Uh... she exists. She’s the team’s boss who sends them out on missions. Uh... I can’t talk too much about her without spoiling what little overarching plot this show has, but just know that she’s neat, but affected by the usual sexism going on in the show’s writing.

(Character and episode spoilers past this point.)

You know, for being The Loonatics the main cast wasn’t very loony. You know who were though? Basically all the villains. Yeah I don’t wanna go there but oops here I go anyway. It’s pretty messed up that all the main characters’ zany traits were dialed down, while the defining feature of practically every villain (besides their stereotypes)is that they’re insane. I mean, if you’re looking for good mental illness rep in The Looney Tunes you’re gonna be disappointed, but at least in the shorts almost every character was a little unhinged and a bit of an asshole, making none of them stand out for those traits specifically. 

Also messed up is that a lot of the villains are disfigured and made fun of for it by the main cast. Hot take of the century, but I think making fun of people for having a big head or only one eye is... bad. Oh and if they’re a woman then they’re also judged on how hot they are. Actually all women in the show are subjected to sexist writing. I remember like one episode where women were treated with a sliver of respect for a split second and that was in the obligatory “the cast comes across an island of amazon women” episode. However since most of the time was spent painting them as villains until the “actually sexism is bad” ending, there was hardly a moment of reprieve from the bullshit if a woman was on screen. 

I’m not the best person to speak on this but uh... it’s fucked up that since literally every notable human is a villain, all the people of color are bad guys, right? Like, obviously it’s not as bad as some of the shit the old shorts pulled, but that’s like saying getting punched is not as bad as getting stabbed. It’s true... but I’m sure most people would prefer neither. 

And here’s where I bring up that Rev episode I mentioned earlier. Rev’s parents are racist against coyotes (cartoons sure love to make carnivores allegories for black people don’t they?) and obviously with Tech E. Coyote being his close friend, that causes trouble. ...Right? Uh, no. They say some racist crap to Tech, and that’s it. There is not even an attempt to correct their behavior from anyone. It’s just treated as some unfortunate quirk. In fact the episode’s conflict actually revolves around Rev’s brother, Rip. Honestly, I doubt that they could’ve handled a decent “racism is bad” episode anyway. But they could’ve also... just not brought up racism if they couldn’t handle it? I’m sure having no racism topic at all would be better than having Tech just take the parents’ racist bull crap lying down and then help Rev impress them with an invention he doesn’t get credit for. Also at one point Rev says if Tech wasn’t a coyote and a guy he’d kiss him, which has two uncomfortable implications, but this section is already too long. 

(Spoilers end here.)

Overall... yeah the show’s not very good. Of course it wasn’t. It was always going to be a little garbage. And no not because of the darker style or strange setting or any of that superficial crap. Team dynamic shows are popular and with Teen Titans doing so well WB probably thought they might as well shove out a 2 season Looney Tunes version to grab a little more cash, probably minimizing the budget to squeeze out as much profit as possible. If anyone working on the show was passionate about it, I doubt they had the budget or time to act on most their ideas. 

Still, there were things to like. There are some funny jokes throughout the show, a few of which even managed to come out of Ace’s mouth. Danger Duck was literally just Daffy and he’s always great. Ironically, Rev and Tech were the most fun to listen to, and also to watch interacting in general. Slam didn’t do much but was a sweetheart who deserves success. There managed to be some decently twisty twist villains, if only because Disney ruined my brain with their ceaseless and lazy attempts at them, and I wasn’t looking out for them in this show. And, while almost nothing was properly developed, at least the concepts and characters are fun to think about?

I can’t say I’d recommend this show to everybody, but uh... if you’re a Furry with low standards and too much free time like me, maybe you’ll like it? Just go in with low expectations so when nice things happen you’re decently surprised. 

[afewmarvelousthoughts]

Stay Ch. 13

Master List

Pairing: Natasha X Reader (Female)

Summary: You have a gift, the ability to see other people’s innermost secrets. For years you used it to gather intel for the highest bidder when you take on The Widow. After she becomes more than a mark the two of you spend years stealing moments. Post snap you wait in your designated meeting place, look back on the sordid past you share with the woman you love and hope against everything that she’s still alive.

Warnings: Angst, light violence.

A/N:  I have been SO excited to share this with y’all. I straight up almost posted it earlier in the week because to me this is when their story really shifts and just so much is coming. 

I hope y’all enjoy! 

Tags are open!

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- Post Snap -

The sound of that hotel door in New Orleans reverberates in your ears even here in the present. You sit in the windowsill, thankful this place still had windows that could be opened, and puff perfect smoke rings into the cool night air.

Old regrets bubble up. Maybe if you had been able to swallow your pride, work things out then and there, you’d be in a much different place now. Maybe she’d be here in your arms and not out somewhere in this burning world… Maybe, maybe, maybe.

It would be easy to drive yourself crazy thinking about all the may have beens that have piled up over the years. Regret got you nothing, you remember telling your team that. No point in mourning the past, but here you were. Hypocrite.

Regardless, you didn’t make it to January.

- November 2006 -

After a month or so it hurt less. You knew she was out there doing what she needed to and you were making money like a fucking mad woman.

Admittedly not being with her may have been soothed by the revolving door your bed had become. So what? You were having a good time, had the cash to burn, why not spend it on beautiful women and good booze?

It had been a particularly wild couple of weeks. The job you just wrapped put you smack in the middle of Amsterdam’s Red Light district and… well… you weren’t sad about it. If more jobs were likes this one, you’d go to hell with a smile on your face and damn good stories to tell the devil.

The night before you leave you wake up panicked. A dream so fucking real you were confused when consciousness came barreling into you. Practically pushing the two women off your bed you stumble to your duffle for your phone, hands shaking.

You hadn’t checked the voicemail. It wasn’t the first time you’d forgotten for more than a few days. Nothing was ever there. For some reason that dream… Natasha running, scared, panicked… you could feel it in your bones.

The women ask what’s going on and you tell them to shut up as you dial the codes with trembling fingers.

“Palais.” Natasha’s voice was trembling, breathless, scared. Left over a week ago. Panic pulses out of every pore on your body. The phone slides from your grasp and you hit your knees.

“What’s happening?!” You hear one of the women scream. 

It’s all so far away. The other starts to sob, thick choking sobs. Both on the brink of full-fledged panic attacks. While you... are strangely calm, feeling your emotions and yet… not. Turning to them you stare in shock.

Somehow you know you’ve done this. How you don’t fully understand. But they’re trapped in your emotions, their confusion making them all the more terrified. You can’t blame them. You also can’t fucking care.

“Get out,” you growl at them both.

“But… what’s…”

“Get. Out.” Quickly they slip into their clothes and run out, still scared out of their minds.

Within the hour you’re out of the hotel and on your way to the airport. Any other time you’d drive, easier to stay off the radar but it was 11 hours and you couldn’t wait that long. You book the first flight out. 

Five hours later you’re tearing into the doors of the hotel, the strange sense of deja vu hitting you hard.

It’s early but you know if she was here she would be in the bar. Still you check with the front desk for Nancy Rustin, your agreed name for her to use, nothing. You feel that same panic rise in you like it did in Amsterdam and you bring it in. A hotel lobby freaking like the women had would be newsworthy and not something you had the time for.

You slam back a whiskey neat at the bar and another, the warmth calming your nerves just a little bit. The third one you sip trying to figure out what to do.

If she was… no. You refuse to believe that, can’t allow yourself to go down that road. Instead, you start to plan just what strings you need to pull to figure out where the fuck she was. Whoever had her wouldn’t be standing for long, because you’d burn the world to get her back… You had to… had to tell her you loved her… Why hadn’t you just said it when she left in New Orleans? Now…

A man slides onto the stool next to you and you bristle. There’s a whole open bar and he just had to sit beside you. You’re about to let him have it when he orders a vodka neat. It’s a normal enough order but it packs salt into the wound nonetheless, sucking the words from you.

From your peripheral you see him take a sip and look at you. An emotion rolls off him. Apprehension? Disapproval? Curiosity?

“Palais,” he says matter of factly.

Your heartbeat kicks up but you remain facing forward. After taking a sip of your drink you respond, “Very good, you know where ya are. Want a fuckin’ gold star?” You aren’t sure why you let your natural accent show but you do.

He snorts, “She said you had a mouth.”

You slide a sidelong venomous glare to him, “Who?” It’s practically a hiss. You’re already formulating ways to kill this man right here.

“We have a mutual friend?”

“I don’t have friends.”

“No?” He sips his drink, obviously not enjoying the taste. “How about someone who’s more than that?” You say nothing.

Reaching into your pocket you pull out a few bills, grab your bag and walk out of the hotel. The man hot on your heels. You turn down an alley and as soon as he’s close enough you pull your gun. His hands are up a smirk on his face.

“Hey, let’s take a second here,” he’s not projecting any kind of fear. Actually, he’s almost too calm.

“You have exactly five to tell me where the fuck she is before I blow that smile off your face.”

“She’s safe.”

“Not good enough. Three.”

“If I was lying you could tell, right? So why don’t you work your magic trick before shooting me.” He lowers to his knees, “I’m trying to help. Just… look.”

Cautiously you approach him, gun still drawn. Going behind him you press the barrel to his temple with your right and press your left to the other side of his head. Not enough to harm, just to pull information. Focusing on one thing, her. 

Natasha, looking tired but smiling fills your mind. “Y/N, I’m ok, I swear I’m ok baby. You can trust Clint. He’ll bring you to me. I’m telling him this so you’ll believe him. Oh, and when you’re done say the word pineapple, he doesn’t believe you can do what I said. I love you.”

You release him and lower your gun, tears stinging in the back of your eyes. Nothing but honesty and determination radiates from him. He’s legit.

“Fuck,” he rubs his temples, “that really does suck.”

“Pineapple,” you say barely audible.

“Huh?” He looks at you, “Sorry, shot hearing.” Now you notice the barely visible high tech hearing aids in his ears.

“Pineapple.”

A smile fills his face, “Jesus Christ. That’s pretty damn cool.” He stands slowly extending his hand, “Clint.” You take it and get a flash of a rural house, countryside, a brunette woman with kind eyes, arrows. This man is like an open book.

“Y/N.”

“Good to meet you.” His hands are calloused and you get the distinct feeling that he’s military of some sort. “I realize it’s asking a lot to-”

“I’ll go where ever you want.”

“Oh. I had a whole speech prepared and everything. Didn’t think you’d make this easy.” He shrugs, “Well come on then.”

On cue, a black nondescript sedan pulls up and he opens the back passenger door, you can see the barrier between the front and back seats, no handles on the interior of the doors. Fuck.

“Nothing personal just can’t be too careful,” he says, a weak smile on his face. It doesn’t matter. He knows where she is, you’ll play along for now. 

Your voice is soft and sweet as you toss your bag ahead of you into the back seat, “Understandable.” If she told him you can read people she likely also told him about some of the other tricks up your sleeve.

“Oh, and Clint,” he turns to you releasing the door. 

You slide his feet from under him sending him to the ground. Pinning him you press your right hand to his forehead, his eyes wide with panic. Good, she did tell him. There's the sound of feet as the driver rushes up behind you but he signals for them to stand down.

Leaning down you hiss in his ear, “If she’s not alright, I’ll burn your little farmhouse to the fuckin’ ground with that pretty brunette inside. We clear?”

“Crystal,” Clint growls out. He’s like a fortress now, actively fighting to shut you out.

“Excellent,” you stand smiling big and extend your hand to him. Suspiciously he eyes you before taking your hand and pulling himself up.

You push past the visibly confused woman who’s gun hangs limply in her hand. “Let’s get goin’ then.” As soon as you’re in the back seat she slams the door.

Admittedly you didn’t expect to be driving this long but 3 hours later you’re desperate for a pit stop. Two whiskeys plus the gallon of coffee on the flight meant you had to pee. Now.

“Can y’all even hear me up there?” The barrier was clear, maybe bullet-resistant glass of some kind, and you hadn’t heard anything from the front the whole time.

“Yes.” The woman’s tone is clipped.

“Good. How much longer we gonna be on this joy ride?”

“Another hour at least,” Clint responds. You note that the driver glares at him as if she didn’t approve of him answering you.

“Ah, well, any chance for a pit stop before then?”

“No.”/“Yes.” The driver and Clint respond at the same time.

“We are not stopping,” the woman sounds like she’s about to throttle Clint.

“That’s fine,” you say and watch her shoulders relax. “As long as you’re not the one having to clean up later.” She catches your smirk in the rearview and woo, if looks could kill.

Violently the car jerks to the side of the road and you slam into the driver’s side door. “What the hell?”

She gets out and flings the door open, “Should have worn a seat belt.” There’s the whisper of a grin on her face as you rub your left arm. “Neither of us have to go. There’s the woods.” The look on her face isn’t quite smug but it’s almost there.

You laugh, “Girl, you barkin’ up the wrong tree if you think my country ass is too prim to piss in the woods.” Quickly you stride toward the trees.

“Agent,” she says, voice low and you freeze. “Agent Hill. I’m not your girl.” Slowly you turn back to her. “And I suggest you don’t run, Oracle.” Your blood runs cold.

“Am I under arrest agent?”

“Not exactly.”

“Hmm.” You weigh your options. If they could just get you to Natasha as was promised you figured you both had a good chance of slipping them. If you ran… well if they had her and who knows what they may do…

“Well, if you’re done posturing, Agent Hill. I have some private business to attend to. Unless you’re wanting to accompany me, I’ll be back in a minute.” You turn back toward the woods and she doesn’t follow.

Once you’re done, you walk a few paces further into the trees and lean against a trunk for a minute thinking. Agent Hill didn’t specify exactly who she was an agent for. She’s clearly American unless it’s a ruse. But given that Clint is most definitely American you’re going to bet it’s not. Sure they could be with any number of U.S. agencies but your gut is telling you just who this is. If you’re right… this is very bad.

You stride back to the car, “So, Agent,” you practically spit the word, “we headin’ to some kind of S.H.I.E.L.D. safe house in Europe or are you toting me back to the good ol’ U.S.A.?” Her brows lift just a touch in surprise but otherwise, she appears unfazed. “Guess it’ll be a surprise then,” you say as you get back in the car.

Almost two hours later you pull into what seems to be an old abandoned airport. Clint opens your door.

“The states it is,” you quip looking over at Agent Hill. She says nothing and begins striding to a hangar. You grab your bag and follow Clint.

Before getting on the jet Agent Hill turns to you, “I’ll need all weapons you have on your person, Oracle.” You stare at her for a minute, curious if she will try to physically remove them if you don’t comply.

“You can give them over freely or spend the flight in shackles. Your choice.”

Giving her a slight smile you begin to disarm. Weapons were good and all but you didn’t need them to be a threat. The way Clint looks at you shows he knows this but she doesn’t. Interesting.

Not moving toward her you hold out your knives and gun, “Here.” She rolls her eyes but takes the bait coming to grab them. Your fingers just graze hers.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a Maria.” The look she flashes you is murderous. You smile smugly as Clint restrains a small laugh. It never got old using something so simple as their own name to throw people. “Suits you though.” Unfortunately, she’s too good to take your bait this time and simply turns practically storming into the jet.

“Hill didn’t believe it either. What Nat said you could do,” Clint says standing bravely next to a woman that threatened him five hours ago. You bristle a bit at his casual mention of Natasha.

“Good. The less people who believe in it the better off I am,” he nods in agreement and leads the way to the jet.

You’ve never been on something so advanced. Despite yourself, you’re a little in awe. You stand in the middle of it all gawking.

“Sit,” Hill barks pointing to a bucket seat near the back. “Buckle up if you want I don’t care either way. And if you hurl it’s your mess to clean up. Got it?”

You sit down and lounge like a cat looking up at her, “Got it, Maria.”

“Agent. Hill,” she spits.

A chuckle slips from you at her reaction, “You don’t like me much do you, Agent?”

“No,” with that she heads to the pilot seat.

A few minutes later you feel the jet start to roll forward. The takeoff is so abrupt you do feel more than a little nauseous but you keep it down, not willing to give in. Once it’s passed your mind focuses on what the hell you’re walking into.

Whatever it was if she was there… it would be worth it.

[ticklikeabomb]

The Language of Limbo - Part 4

Pairing : Chris Evans x Plus Size Reader ; Marvel Cast x Plus Size Reader

Warnings : Language ; Angst ; Mention of drinking

Word Count : 2.7k

You sprinted out to your trailer and ignoring Hemsworth's calls in the process. Once you got inside your safe space, your leaned against the door and let yourself slide down, crying your heart out, a mix of emotions going over you : sadness, disappointment, anger, shame. Your mind kept replaying Rebecca's word on a loop and you lost it completely until you eventually fell asleep on the couch. You were woken up by knocks on your door. You sighed heavily not wanting to face anyone but the person behind the door was persistent. You opened up not bothering in cleaning the traces of your sadness. Elisabeth entered in your trailer and without a word hugged you. A fresh new wave of tears cascaded down your face while she was rubbing your arms in support. "I heard the news, I'm so sorry Y/N." You nodded, hiding yourself from her. "The cast is also worried but wanted to give you some space. They send their regards to you nonetheless", she continued slowly.

You sat down on the couch and took a deep breath before exclaiming, "God this sucks." She sat beside you, comforting you. "It does. I don't know what came over the ones in charge, you were doing so good. I don't understand. Now we have to reshoot the scenes all over again", she told you. "Months of preparation and hard work and I didn't even get the chance to prove myself", you replied with a cracking voice. She grabbed your face and looked into your eyes, "Listen to me Y/N, you are strong and will nail the Shield agent part. I know you will, so show them what they lost." You nodded and hugged her tightly. "Thank you Lizzie." She wiped out the remaining tears and told you that RDJ was hosting another get together for the newbie. "I know it's delicate but it would be good if you were present." You shook your head, "I'm sorry I can't. I won't be able to be there and act like nothing happened. Rebecca, she…", you said but cut short to it. "She what Y/N?", asked Lizzie. "No nothing, it's nothing. I can't go, I'm sorry and besides I have work to do in memorizing the new lines." She nodded in understanding and left. "If you need anything you know where to find me." You thanked her again and saw her leaving.

Meanwhile during RDJ's get together

Just like they did to you, Scarlet and Mackie showed Rebecca around while doing small-talk and trying to get to know her. "I guess you will have to catch on fast on all the fighting moves for the scenes?", remarked Mackie. "Oh I think it will not be so difficult, I'm a fast learner and in good shape, I'm sure I'll know all of it in two days' time", she replied all smiling. "Ohhhkay", replied Mackie slightly taken aback by her assurance. They arrived at Downey Town and the rest of the cast greeted her. Elisabeth put on a her best fake smile while doing so, smile that caught the attention of Rebecca, who saved that expression for her future plans. She asked about the shooting so far and felt particularly intrigued at one of Robert's remarks. "I'm curious how you will top Y/N's chemistry with Chris." She gave him a skeptical look and asked, "What do you mean?" The older actor cleared his throat and replied back with a teasing smirk, "Y/N and Chris are love interests in the movie and their chemistry showed onscreen because it was already flawless offscreen." She scoffed not believing her ears. "Well it's a good thing that she won't play Chris's love interest anymore, since I'm Y/C/N now. I'm not afraid, I like a challenge, if we could call that one." "You seem really confident there?", mumbled Hemsworth from the other end of the table. "I know my strengths and what I want in life. Once there's something I want, I'll do everything I can to obtain it." Some actors nodded, not understanding the whole meaning of her words. "That's a good philosophy", replied Mark with a smile.

After a while, she set her plan in motion. "I don't want to overstep or anything, I mean you've been around her longer than I have but I don't get why you're all praising Y/N so much. I mean, I met her the day they revealed us who was casted and had some time to chat with her and she just seemed extremely rude to me." The cast frowned at her words, not really believing her. "Nonsense, Y/N is one of the sweetest people I know", counterattacked Elisabeth. Rebecca gasped and said, "I'm sorry I didn't mean to cause trouble or implying anything, it was just my feeling at that moment, the way she talked about some of you and all." The last part caught everyone's attention. "What do you mean 'talked about some of us'?", asked Tom cautiously. She shook her head and said, "You know what? Just forget that I said anything. I don't want any drama or whatever. I just want to be part of this already established family and do good in the movie." The rest of the cast looked around at each other thinking about her words, some not entirely sure if they should believe her since they've spend time with you and saw that you weren't like that. At the same time, some others began to question themselves, because they didn't know you for long.

Elisabeth was fuming, seeing an outsider not only take the place that was rightfully yours but criticize you on top of it. "Thank you Robert for diner. I'm going to bed", she said before abruptly standing up and leaving the table. "She seems upset", said Rebecca with her best sweet voice. "Yeah, she's friends with Y/N. I don't think your little comments from earlier made her happy", announced Jeremy. She bowed her head in fake shame but was mentally smirking. "I'm really sorry it wasn't my attention", she whispered with a cracking voice. "Hey let's not worry about that. Think of it as a new start, focus on your job and everything will go fine", comforted RDJ in a fatherly manner. She nodded and thanked him before excusing herself and call it a night. "I planted the seed, now I'll have to wait until the little bees come and collect their nectar", she mumbled proudly to herself once in her trailer.

It's been a few days since the recasting. You would either stay inside your trailer, hit the gym to let some steam off or spend time at the small cafe around the corner, going over your part in the script. You began shutting everyone out one by one because you were trying to focus on how you wanted to embody the tech agent without turning it into a complete cliché. The more you stepped back the more Rebecca used it against you to get closer to the cast and have them on her side. She began dropping hints here and there about your absence and how antisocial you were.

One day, she took advantage of Elizabeth not being present to criticize you. "It makes me wonder if she really cared hanging out for you or because of how much she could gain in being associated with you", she said once when they were on the lunch break. "Why are you always talking bad about her?", asked Mark slightly annoyed of hearing her complain all the time. She swallowed harshly and put on her best innocent act. "I'm just frustrated. I know she hates me, she has made it clear but it just annoys me that she talks shit about you but when she's in front of you, she acts all friendly and all. Her hypocrisy makes me sick." It was Chris (Evans)'s turn to speak up. "You keep saying that but do you have any prove of it."

She scoffed annoyed before bursting out, "I know she keeps asking questions about your personal life for example, just like a stalker would. You must be blind to not see how smitten she is about you. It doesn't only revolve around you but goes beyond. I was drinking some water after a scene and saw a phone churn on the table. I recognized her phone and a certain Scott Evans was texting her. I suppose it's your brother", she finished. Chris clenched his jaw in anger, not believing you would go that far to get to him. "Is it true? Did you noticed it too?", he asked around him. Some of the actors seemed uncomfortable because it was indeed true that there was a time where you would ask them about Chris and his personal life. "It happened once or twice", revealed Scarlet. Rebecca saw the glimpse of the prominent fracture occur in front of her eyes and pushed it further. "And other things she does. I overheard her once on the phone when I was walking to my trailer, where she was criticizing you Scarlet, saying that she didn't know how people could be so dumb and believe in your talent. She said you were just a body and with no talent behind. It clearly shows how jealous she in fact is. Or when she said how you Mackie should shut the fuck up already because your jokes weren't funny at all", she rambled while pointing at them. "And let me not start with what she said about you Robert." "It's enough, I don't want to hear about it", he replied not interested. The thick air surrounded the cast, Scarlet, Mackie and Chris fuming about what they just heard. Chris stood up angrily and walked away, isolating himself in his own trailer, thinking about what he should do with all these information.

Today was your first scene as the Shield agent. You walked out of the makeup trailer and marched to the set. When you arrived you saw that they were still filming a scene and not just only a scene. THE scene, where Steve and what was supposed to be your character, would share their first kiss. You saw Rebecca launching on Chris's lips and it made you sick. "It was supposed to be me", the thought crossing your mind. You bowed down your head before taking control of your emotions and focus on your part. You left your phone on silence next to your chair and went over your lines one last time. "Y/N? you're up", you heard one of the Russo brothers shout. You stood up, leaving your script and phone on the chair and got in position to shoot your scene. While you were shooting a scene between Mark and RDJ, Chris sat on his own chair who was beside yours. He was taking a gulp of his water when the reflection of the screen beside him caught his attention. It wasn’t his intention to look at it but when he saw his brother's name, he paled.

From Scott Evans : Hey Y/N, how are you? How has it been going regarding Chris?

His blood began to boil and he clenched his jaw in fury. "So it is true", he quietly mumbled to himself. You finished your scene and head back to your seat. You noticed Chris looking angry and frowned. "Everything alright?", you asked him. "We need to talk !", he spat. You were taken aback by his hostility and before you could answer, he stood up and walked away, leaving you dumbfounded. The small altercation didn't go unnoticed by some of the cast and especially Rebecca who was biting on her lip in order to control her grin. "The fuck", you whispered to yourself. You continued your work the best you could but Chris's expression and tone he employed were always on your mind. During breaks, Mackie would make jokes but because you were thinking about the altercation, you wouldn't laugh. "Jeez, apparently some do think my jokes suck and instead of telling it to my face, just prefer to be fake", he said while looking directly at you. You didn't caught the meaning behind his words but it still sting a little to you. The day was over for you and left the others behind who still had two scenes to shoot.

Elizabeth approached Mackie and asked him what was his comment about. "Nothing, forget about it", he just replied before turning around and rolling his eyes at her for defending you. She walked to Scarlet with a frown and the blond actress asked her what was going on. "I don't know, I feel like everyone is just being cold with Y/N and I have no idea why", mumbled Lizzie. Scarlet cleared her voice before commenting, "I don't know, maybe Y/N isn't who she pretends to be." To that, Lizzie looked at Scarlet in the eyes and with an annoyed expression, "What is that supposed to mean?" Scarlet sighed not really in the mood but eventually told Lizzie what was going on. "That's why we're keeping our distances. Chris found out today that she's indeed in contact with his brother and that the main topic of conversation was Chris." Lizzie gasped not believing her words. "Come on Elizabeth we know you're friends but you're not that close. You've worked together, what, 5 years ago. People change and besides it's not like it's a close friend of yours. She might be using you too", declared Scarlet. Lizzie was lost, not knowing who to believe in. It was indeed true that you weren't that close. If it wasn't for Aaron she probably wouldn't even know you but still she found it hard to believe.

You were finishing putting on your clothes when harsh knocks were heard on your door. You quickly buttoned your jeans and put on your sneakers before opening the door and seeing Chris stand in front of you. "Can I come in?", he asked with a firm voice. "Ehm sure", you replied with a frown. The air was thick and uncomfortable. "So what do you wanted to talk about?", you asked. He sighed before looking angrily at you. "I don't know why you've been asking around about me but I don't like when people put their nose where they don't belong, especially if it involves my family." Your mouth opened in shock and your face was burning in shame. "Wha-what?", you whispered. "I know you've been texting my brother about me and I also know you've got a thing for me." He walked closer and you took a step back, the movement making him stop. He took a deep breath before declaring, "You and me. It's never gonna happen, so stop stalking me. Don't talk to me ever again and stay away from my family !" You stood there in shock and felt the silent tears sliding down your face. "Get out", you whispered. "What did you say?", he asked. You gulp harshly, "Get out ! GET OUT ! GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY TRAILER"!, you shouted in despair, pushing him out. His eyes went wide and he almost tripped while exiting. You smashed the door on his face and felt on the ground, crying, deeply hurt by his words. Mason who was on his way to your trailer, saw you pushing Chris out of your trailer, a crying mess and he had to control himself to not launch on him and punch him in the face. He followed Chris until he was out of sight and his eyes landed on Rebecca who was hiding in a corner, smiling proudly. He promised himself to dig into it and have an eye on the one he immediately felt a bad connection with.

You took your phone, wrote Scott a small and vague message before deleting his number. You cleaned your face and got out, heading to the cornerstone. Once you arrived at the aisle you were looking for your gaze fixed for a long minute the bottle of whiskey in front of you. You grabbed two bottles along a bag of chips, so that the cashier wouldn't find it suspicious. You payed him and grabbed the bag before quickly heading back to your trailer. You took the groceries out and opened the first bottle, taking a large gulp from it. Burning your throat, the liquor gave you the comfort you needed. You kept on drinking until you couldn't stand on your feet. You opened the second bottle and drank from it until it was half empty before passing out on the floor.

* gifs not mine, credit to owner*

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[aconitemare]

[jaydick] to all the (D)icks i’ve loved before

JayDick during the famous (first) field scene from To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before.

Read it on AO3.

“Are you really going to audition?” Roy asks. He’s got a sheen of sweat across his forehead that’s probably more due to the heat than the exertion on the track field.

“Maybe,” Jason answers. He does actually, one-hundred percent, but he doesn’t feel comfortable sounding committal. “Why not,” he says instead without making it sound like a genuine question. It isn’t.

Roy knows it’s not a question but caring is neither of their strong suits, so he presses. “I dunno’. Doesn’t really seem like you, I guess. Don’t get me wrong,” he switches. His hand reaches out to touch Jason’s shoulder, but it’s been almost an hour of gym outside and his hand misses the mark as they maintain pace. “You’ve got the drama down pat,” he quips. Jason sends him a glare but Roy just snickers. “Maybe, like, if this was Phantom of the Opera-type shit, I’d be like, yeah, that’s you, and I’d be there in the front row telling everyone that the disfigured creep under the basement was my dude, but. A high school performance of Footloose though? That’s some cheesy shit.”

Jason shrugs. Roy isn’t entirely wrong. Jason would’ve joined the drama club last year except their big show was Shrek the Musical. He was tempted to sign up anyway because it’s not like anyone would see a tech on stage, but he really didn’t want to be associated with something that was bound to suck hard. Footloose was comparatively better. He could work with that story.

“You can still sit front row and tell everyone I’m the guy moving props off the stage,” Jason replied.

“Oh, what?” Roy says with his nose scrunching. “You’re not even going to be an actor? Fuck that noise, you should be that dude who fucks the pastor’s daughter.”

“You want me to be Ren McCormack,” Jason supplies.

“Whichever, man; you could tell me the character was named Rhino McJackoff and I’d have to go along with you.”

“Fair enough,” Jason retorts. One of their gym instructors holds out two popsicle sticks as they pass. Roy grabs them both and hands one to Jason. They get a good distance between them and the teacher before they start speaking again because neither are good at censoring their language. Roy has just asked him about Red Dead Redemption 2 when Jason hears his name being shouted.

“Jason! Jason!” Jason turns around to see Dick Grayson jogging towards them. He’s wearing the school’s proper gymnasium uniform, unlike Roy and Jason who both got points deducted for bringing normal gym clothes. GCHS is embroidered in the corner is tiny white lettering. If Dick were to turn around, a cartoonish owl would blink stare hollowly at them.

Neither Jason nor Roy slow their pace so Dick is forced to catch up after he’s caught their attention and maintain speed. “Sup, Dick,” Roy greets, making room for Dick to insert himself between them. This close up, Jason can smell Dick’s shampoo. It’s lighter than he expected, more fresh than spiced like Jason’s cologne.

Dick smiles at Roy and shakes his shoulder. He definitely showed up late to class. Jason knows this not just because he isn’t sweaty like everyone is, but because he missed him during the warm-up. Jason hasn’t liked Dick like that since middle school, but he can admit to himself that he still watches him. He doesn’t think that’s weird or anything because everyone watches Dick — most of all during gym.

“Where’ve you been?” Roy asks easily. Meanwhile, Jason subtly runs a bit farther to the left so he’s not inhaling Dick’s scent with every heavy breath.

“Nurse’s office,” Dick says with a bright grin. “I got into a bit of fender bender this morning. Security guard saw me parking with my bumper torn off and insisted I check in with the nurses while they ratted me out to Bruce.”

Jason remembers Bruce rather well considering he’s only met him once. It was during a birthday party at Wayne Manor for Dick’s younger brother Tim. Bruce was an imposing man who now looms over Jason’s memory of that night. Jason can well imagine Dick crashing his fancy car daddy’s money bought him. Jealousy, not sympathy, clouds Jason’s mood as Roy talks about that sounds rough. Jason hopes he doesn’t mean it so they can talk shit later. But Roy and Dick actually do get along, so he’s probably for real.

“That sucks, Dick, especially on top of stuff with Helena,” Roy seems to commiserate. Jason’s attention perks up here. Helena is Dick’s girlfriend. She’s not the worst person Jason’s ever met, but she’s pretty freaking terrible. They used to be friends in middle school to the point there were rumors about them getting together. Then came the day Helena leaned forward, lashes brushing her cheeks as her lips puckered, and Jason didn’t think, he just confessed. Within a week, Helena had excommunicated Jason from every social circle she touched. Within a week, Jason had to watch his ex-best friend holding hands with the boy he dreamt about.

Helena and Dick had been on-and-off since the advent of high school. Clearly they are off now. Even though Jason holds no hopes for reconciliation with Helena or — delayed wish fulfillment with Grayson, he still eagerly awaits the permanent destruction of a couple that’s tainted much of school for him.

Dick’s expression is uncomfortable after Roy’s comment. Jason lets Dick catch the smirk playing on his lips. Dick takes a deep breath before looking back at Roy and clapping a hand down on Roy’s shoulder with a familiarity that irks Jason. “Hey, we’ll catch up, alright?” promises Dick. “But actually I have something I need to talk to Jason about one-on-one.”

Roy is no stranger to Jason’s tragic backstory regarding Dick Grayson. “Sure thing,” he says dubiously, raising his eyebrows at Jason. For added measure, he waggles them in a way that has both Jason glaring and Dick looking uncomfortable away. Jason opens his mouth slowly because he’s not sure what he wants to say, maybe “wait,” Roy puts a burst of energy into his step until he’s catching up with Wally West who’s already finished the course and is still running for fun.

“Cool dude,” Dick says weirdly.

“Uh, yeah,” says Jason as Dick’s words settle in. I actually have something I need to talk to Jason about one-on-one. What the hell? The most they’ve ever spoken to each other after middle school was while setting up for last year’s homecoming dance. Dick had roped in Kory who roped in Roy who roped in Jason. It was an unfairly good night. Roy fed off Kory’s attention and made Jason laugh so hard he nearly pissed himself several times. Helena had practice all night for her archery league, so Dick was on his own and for whatever reason, he stuck to Jason’s side the whole event.

Jason didn’t let himself think about that night afterwards, but during the moment, Dick had a way of making everything between them feel fresh and new. He hadn’t been weighed down by his private history — a history revolving around Dick that Dick probably didn’t even realize — at all.

“So,” Jason says, toying around with his popsicle sticks as they jog. Without meaning to, Jason has slowed down to Dick’s leisurely walk. “Speak.”

Dick smiles and laughs softly, if a little nervously. He really smiles a lot. Jason wonders how he ever thought Dick was viable partner with his Pollyanna temperament. “Right. Well, here comes the hard part, I guess, right?” Dick asks. Then he seems to wait for Jason to actually dignify that with a response despite it containing no legitimate content to respond to. Dick’s tongue swipes across his bottom lip. He shrugs, smiles. “Here goes,” he says and stops walking altogether. Jason rolls his eyes and stops, although what Dick could possibly say that requires an utter stand-still is beyond him.

Dick’s hand rummages in the pockets of his gym shorts. He pulls out an envelope which he then fiddles with. “I honestly had no idea you felt this way,” Dick begins. Immediately, Jason is on his guard. “I mean, I suppose there were signs and I suppose I ignored them on purpose. Maybe I was wrong to, but it seemed simplest that way, you know, if we just carried on with our own separate lives? What with Helena and me, and you and — someone who’s not in a relationship. Or just freshly out of one, in my case.” Here, Dick chuckled. “You hardly left time for the dust to settle on that one. I actually admire your boldness — for real, it’s refreshing for someone to just lay out all their cards and say, ‘Hey, this is how I feel.’ No dumb high school politics or the proverbial closet, just honesty.”

Jason is barely listening to Dick’s rambling bullshit. His eyes are glued to the envelope that is surely connected to whatever Twilight Zone thing is going down. Dick Grayson is talking to him about feelings and cold dread is rapidly filling Jason like water on the Titanic as he remembers what he did three years ago that can fit inside a tiny envelope.

Dick inches closer, his head tilted slightly upwards as Jason stays staring down at the object in Dick’s hands. “And if I’m also being honest, you wrote things to me that kept me up at night. I don’t think anyone’s ever thought about me that way, about my eyes — well, you know you wrote.”

That’s the last straw, the confirmation Jason needed if not wanted, and he roughly rips the letter out of Jason’s hands. Dick nearly stumbles back in surprise. “I don’t where you got this,” he says, voice low as he glares daggers into Dick’s eyes — blue like clean waters that shimmer in the sun and give life to those desperate for a drink — and steps threateningly into his space. “But it is not yours and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay away from me and keep everything you read to yourself,” he warns. His embarrassment is bearing down on his shoulders, heating his cheeks and hitting his chest in harsh heartbeats. He stands his ground only because he’s worried the ground might swallow him whole otherwise.

For the second time during gym class, Jason hears his name being called. Jason breaks the intense moment and looks up to see no other than Konnor Kent, Tim’s newly-exxed boyfriend, walking towards him. He’s wearing that leather jacket Jason’s always loved on him and a pair of skin-tight jeans with tons of buckles that should be cringey but instead is just super hot. He’s slighter than Dick although they’re both lean and his thick dark hair curls up at the front rather than lying in a mess of waves like Dick’s. He’s got style to him and although Dick isn’t one to put as much thought into his wardrobe, Jason has to admit now that they’re almost side-by-side that he has a type.

He interrupts his admiration first with the reminder to have a little shame, Konnor is Tim’s, not his, even if they’re not together anymore. His self-flagellation is ended early when he spots a thin piece of paper in Konnor’s leather-clad hands.

Dear Konnor,

Fair warning, what I’m about to tell you is wrong. But that’s why I have to say it. Because if I keep it to myself and refuse to acknowledge what’s between us, then I’ll always feel that way. But if I get it out all on paper now, then I can come to terms with the fact that you’re not mine. You can’t ever be mine.

Jason went on like for five pages, front and back. And now Jason’s heart is on Konnor’s sleeve. Tim just left him and Jason is swooping in for the kill like a vulture. What if Konnor has already told Tim? What if Tim is the one who found these letters? Did he send one to Dick as revenge for his feelings towards Konnor? Would Tim be that petty?

Yes. Tim would absolutely be that petty.

Konnor is almost closing the distance. “Jason, I need to talk to you,” he calls out. Jason honestly cannot handle this. He can’t handle the repercussions of his letter reaching Konnor, let alone of them discussing the letter. Konnor either came here to reject him or, or — to not, and he can’t say which would be worse. Over the years, Jason has landed himself into some pretty risky scenarios from foolhardy adventures, but never has he felt this panicky before.

Konnor is only a few yards away. Jason’s mind has cleared of all things except: I cannot talk to him.

Jason’s body has a solution for this. Jason’s body does not at all consult Jason’s head when it throws itself at Dick Grayson. One hand cups the back of Dick’s neck while the other grabs his arm. Dick isn’t expecting Jason’s full weight and when Jason’s foot slides between his, Dick goes tumbling backwards. The two fall to the ground in tandem but Jason doesn’t break the kiss. He’s vaguely aware of Dick’s little yelp, but he’s more keen on the plush of his lips and the smell of his shampoo. Dick’s chest is solid beneath his. Jason moves just enough to take some of the weight off him, his hand lifting Dick’s neck for a better angle.

Jason’s name is shouted a third time. “Todd, get off him!” he hears an instructor bark. Jason has an arm on either side of Dick’s shoulders as he looks up to see Mr. Queen running towards them, popsicle sticks in hand. Jason gazes down at Dick whose eyes are blown wide and staring straight into Jason’s, lips gently parted.

Jason gets off the boy he’s just tackled. Mr. Queen is asking him what’s wrong with you but Jason is busy watching Konnor’s retreating form. Mr. Queen demands Dick and Jason go to the principal's office. Jason’s head whips around to the teacher. “No, sir, don’t do that,” he nearly begs. He can hear Dick push himself to his feet but he’s stubbornly not looking at him. He doesn’t think he can ever look at Dick again, actually, which is a pity since it’s one of his pastimes. “It’s on me, sir, I tackled him.”

“Yeah, I can fucking tell!” Mr. Queen snaps. Unforeseen, Roy and Wally have lapped around to the three of them. Roy grabs two popsicle sticks, says “dude,” and keeps going. Jason glares until Wally stops rubbernecking.

“Dick can stay. I’ll find my way to the principal’s,” Jason says. He’s relieved when Mr. Queen merely says, “I’ll be checking,” because Jason would die on the spot if he had to then walk with Dick and sit next to him as he explained why exactly he bodyslammed Gotham City High’s sweetheart and planted one on him for all gym class.

Jason shoves his popsicle sticks into Mr. Queen’s hands, still ignoring Dick as he turns on his heels and gets the hell out of there.

[the-voice-of-hell]

Rent is Theft, part 1

Working Title:  Rent is Theft, formerly The Floor

Note:  My MC is a Filipina trans woman and I am not.  If you have any advice or feedback on that or anything else, hit me up.

                                                        ***

     Fear is not the best motivator.  Check out the shivering guys who fear god so much they break his laws with perverse passion.  The fear compels, but also wracks your mind, makes you do things that don't make sense.  Things that lead you straight to the thing you're running from.

     So I was coding for a living, off and on, about twenty years.  It was great money at first - I went a little crazy, got cleaned up, took care of some surgery, whatever.  But when investors woke up from the dream of magic computer money, the money in my life started to suck.

     First thing to happen was we all lost our jobs.  I do interview well, so I was one of the lucky half that managed to squeak into something new.  But now they were paying maybe sixty percent of what we used to get, and expected to do twice as much work.

     And the companies were all unstable, prone to big layoffs, buyouts, and collapses.  So we became like migrant laborers, moving from office to office every few years and - if we were lucky - making only ten percent less money for twenty percent more labor each time we changed bosses.

     The smart thing to do in that situation would have been to spend my spare time learning everything I could about programming in the latest greatest languages, but who has the energy for that?  As my skills became less current, I became less desirable for employment.

     And this is where the fear came in.  To give myself the time and energy to do that homework, I had rented a fancy new apartment downtown.  With work within walking distance, I could add hours of commute time back to my days.  But the rent was outrageous.  I could afford it, but I'd need to stay employed.  It was a gamble and the fear grew.

     This whole time, the coding language I knew best was being supplanted in the industry by something completely different.  I could probably have limped by as a coder if I just learned that one new standard.

     But my mind was wracked.  Every night, I'd get home and do nothing.  Hell, maybe I was forgetting the things I already knew.  I was never a genius about that stuff in the first place.  So when the office switched to the new standard, I knew I was ruined before it was even made official.

     What happened next is hard to describe.  But I think you'll understand, because it's about the world you know.  It's about the crap you're living through, the things that are running your life invisibly, making themselves felt so powerfully without making themselves known.  Fuck it, here goes.

                                                        * * *

     I got home from work early again.  Last week, no question.  I was doing myself up more than usual because I wanted to remind anyone who might be in a position to save my ass of whatever my charms were.  I know a few dudes at the office fancied me or whatever their idea of me was.  But as I walked through the revolving door, the shoes were killing me and I knew this was all for nothing.

     The white sun disintegrated within a few feet of the giant bulletproof windows, leaving the overgrown slate tiles to be illuminated by a ceiling of nuclear-powered next gen LED lights.  Spiders of light grew and shrank on my glasses as I went into the office.  The door was propped open.

     I did the move where you put your face in like a cartoon character, seeking permission to enter.  The manager had her back to the door but there was no one else present, so I assumed I wouldn't be interrupting anything.  As I came in, said "hello" and took a seat, she didn't bother to turn around.

     "Just a package, take your time," I said.  I'd been checking to see if my new phone was in yet.  By now it was a bit of a laugh because I knew I couldn't afford the bill for continuing its service.  And wouldn't it be hilarious if it arrived just after my evicted ass hit the street?

     As I enjoyed the relief of not standing on heels, a whiskery white man appeared at the door in a dull grey-blue uniform and tool belt.  When the manager didn't turn around for him - what the hell was she even doing back there? - he looked to me.

     I can't not be pleasant.  Most of the time, there's a smile for anyone who has the temerity to look straight at me.

     "Hello, how are you?"

     "You sign for thees."  He passed me a clipboard.  I accepted it, but I tried to hail the manager again.

     "Um..." What was her name?  I still don't remember.  She'd been there only a week, part of a parade of faceless people who clearly found something intolerable about the position.  So I took the pen off the clipboard and signed it with an indistinct squiggle.

     "Dank you. Here is keys.  You use them now.  All the old ones are no good." He handed me a sub-shoebox-sized brick of cardboard and hastily turned around.

     "Uh, thanks?"  My mind was still reeling a bit as he walked out the door, but I put the box on her desk.  I'm sure they wouldn't want me messing with that.

     Finally the manager turned around, coming up with an orange packing envelope that she tossed on the desk irritably.

     "What is that?"

     "Keys, I guess.  Looks like, uh, Eversure Secu-"

     "Why did they give them to you?  That isn't good security."

     "He must have assumed I work here."

     She looked off to the side. "You want to work here?"

     An uneasy shiver of unexpected hope rose in my stomach. "What?"

     She looked back to me.  "Just kidding.  It was a package?  Who for?"

     The hope left and I wished I could be upstairs in my bathroom.  I sat on the discomfort stiffly. "Courtney Marquez. 1203."

     "OK."  She glanced back without leaving her seat.  "We don't have it."

     "OK."

     My feet didn't like walking again, but I was glad to be out of there.  The slow elevator dragged me to the dozenth floor and I went to my lost apartment.

     The place was meant to be a condominium.  During a housing bubble when all these amazing tech jobs were supposed to fill the city with rich youths, developers crunched their numbers and somehow decided that meant it was go time for multimillion dollar condos the size of one bedroom apartments.  Now, either because there weren't as many jobs as advertised, or because value-conscious tech people decided to live in the suburbs, or because the jobs weren't paying what was expected by naive market researchers, dozens of the buildings had to be converted into luxury apartments.

     It was a good time to be me when that happened.  My own jobs had been so unstable I couldn't afford to be locked into a mortgage, but an apartment was much easier to walk away from - and I earned just enough to afford the place.  It was half the size of what I had for half the money in the 'burbs, but I was single and spent too much time working to have a hobbyist's possessions.  My worldly belongings fit neatly into the small, sterile environment.

     But then I found that everything was more expensive in the city.  Every. Damn. Thing.  Need rubber bands?  Three fifty.  Need toilet paper?  Ten dollars.  Need to eat?  Get used to hunger.

     So I was living on the margin, no savings to speak of, and a job less than a week from collapse.  I left the heels at the door and lay down on the couch, eyes looking past the TV into the void of blue sky.

     The tall glass windows were all this seafoam green color and the thermal properties kept daylight from penetrating far.  It suffused the room with a soft blue light, but no warmth.  That was fine.  My body pressing into the thick cushions was raising enough heat.

     Those clean, slick new windows, with a color like eroded broken bottles on the beach.  When I first knew I was going to be able to afford a luxury apartment, I was hoping to get into one of those multi-colored deals that look like they're made of legos with a designer color palette.  But the only thing close enough to work to justify the move and still in my price range was this beast, with those plain green windows on a monolithic building with a brushed steel exterior.  One face of the building had no windows at all, just a dull brutalist edifice.  It looked like the kind of place you'd send old people to be converted into soylent green.  In The Future!

     I actually liked it there, despite all the trauma, the general lack of welcome, just for no good reason.  Maybe it was being in the city, where there are so many people, where I felt more at home on my feet than in the car-dependent endless parking lots of the 'burbs.  Maybe it was that the smallness felt right, like the amount of space my small life should occupy.

     So I cried.

     I don't cry energetically.  My eyes just run everywhere and a I gasp a little.  My eyes roll in my head sometimes, which is weird because they are closed.  I think it's like when someone lies and you can supposedly tell because they glance up and toward the creative side of the brain.  My eyes are trying to find a thought that will save me from sadness.

     My mind was a blank, so it just played over recent events, but in my imagination I was crying the whole time.  Crying walking home from work, coming through the revolving door, sitting in the office.  Crying when the locksmith guy gave me the box of keys.

     He had assumed I work there.  I thought my creativity was spent, in the blank hours fear had me wasting.  But this idea came all at once.  At first my mind was treating it as a joke.

     What if I just had the company re-key the apartment?  The managers here change every month, so I'd quickly become unrecognizable and assumed to belong.  No one here really knows each other, I never told anyone I was going to have to leave.  Hell, I hadn't even told the manager.  And they were having such a hard time filling apartments that I probably would not get surprised by the next tenant.  I knew for a fact the rest of my floor was empty apartments, and some other floors besides.

     Yeah, I could totally do that, haha.  The company that built the place, whoever owned it now, they were running it with a skeleton crew.  Just totally oblivious to what was actually going on in there, except insofar as it sent them a miniscule amount of money.  Yes indeed, just me living there like nothing had happened.  Nobody would be the wiser.

     It was a joke, of course.  No one gets away with that kind of thing.  Well, there's always some random freak who pulls off an amazing crime and makes the papers.  But that's never you.  It's the exception, only a fool would gamble with trying to get away with crimes like that.

     But my mind kept filling in the details - how I would do my laundry, whether I could keep the power on, how I could do the key trick without arousing too much suspicion.  Dusk turned the sky a dark lavendar by the time I realized my eyes were dry and salty, and that this wasn't a joke.  It was something I was going to do.

                                                        ***

     What does a manager wear?  I looked in the mirror the next morning.  I'd wear a pink baseball hat and a North Face jacket.  Dark grey athletic pants, pink and black sneakers.  Reading glasses around my neck, hair in a pony tail.  Looking in that mirror before the disguise came together, I thought I just looked like a scared ghoul.  My glassy eyes had the most serious dark puff beneath them, my skin had paled to a cream coffee color from years under fluorescence, the permed-in wave of my hair was combining with the dregs of yesterday's products to form a medusa bob.  The couped snakes were still writhing in brainless death throes. I grimaced and admired the yellow forming near my dark gums.  This ghoul needed some work.

     An hour later, I made the phone call.  Said my phone,

     "Eversure Security."

     "Mm, yeah, this is Mona Zapata from the Myrmidon Apartments.  We want to order more re-keys..."

     I decided it would be less suspicious - and point less directly at me - to re-key the whole floor.  While I talked specifics I felt like something was trying to jump out of my throat.

     "To come in?  Oh yes, is he available today?  Hm, I think after our office closes would be better for me.  How late is he open?"

     No, I would have to intercept him in the lobby while the manager was possibly still in the office.  Or would I?

     "Oh, listen.  I have to run some money to the back on 6th right then.  How about we meet partway?  Have him catch me in the bagel shop at 9th and Stewart, then we can just walk around the corner."

     "...OK."

     Another hour later, I circled the block to make sure I was coming from the direction of 6th.  I saw no one in a dull grey-blue uniform and tool belt.  A waste of effort.  I went into the bagel shop.  No uniform there.

     I'd need to make a purchase to stave off the awkward. A plain bagel with cinnamon cream cheese and a Snapple.  I'm not sure what I expected that to taste like but it was horrible.  I left the rest of the gooey thing on the table and sipped the tangy beverage while the big numbers of time ticked by on my phone.

     It didn't take long for doubt to come over me.  What if the person at Eversure had forgotten to make a note, or the guy in the pants had missed it?  He'd be going into the office then without me to catch him.

     At three 'til, I started to shake my head side to side nervously, like I was in strenuous disagreement with Claude Rains.  Let 'em think I was crazy.  At one minute, I leapt out of my seat and threw the remains of my nauseating purchase in a trash can on the way out.

     Jogging up the block, I swiveled my head in hope of spotting him driving by.  As I passed the alley behind the building, I noticed a van back there.  I couldn't see the side.  If that was him, did that mean he was already going around to the front?  What if they'd confirmed the appointment by calling the office?  Why hadn't I thought of the possibilities?

     Just as I was about to leave line of sight completely, I noticed the van move.  A little rock.  I backed up, and jogged down the alley.

     It was a wide alley, to admit garbage trucks and large deliveries.  The grey-white morning filled it with light.  I veered close to the building on the far side of the alley until I saw the side of the van.

     Eversure.  I slowed my roll.

     Whiskers from the day before was behind the van closing the doors when I saw him.  He looked at me with a little start.  This time I noticed his name tag read "Niko."

     "Hello," I said, "I'm glad I caught you."

     He was quiet longer than I would have preferred, then, "You ah... Mona Sapata?"  He consulted a clipboard for the last bit of information, then looked expectant.

     "Yes, Niko was it?"  I offered a hand.  He didn't know what to make of that, but stepped forward and obliged.  It was the first time I'd intentionally touched someone in years, and felt sweaty and more dishonest than the criminal alias.

     But I do interview well. He smiled. "Mona.  Le's go.  You want me to, ah..?"

     "Come in the back door, it's closer."  I let him in with my key - still technically a bona fide tenant at this point.  He carried a large yellow-orange toolbox that smacked the metal door frame as he passed within.

     The elevator in the open lobby was the only reasonable way up.  Plain view of the office.  This is where it would all fall apart, I thought.  Walk on his right.  As the gaping glass windows of the office come into view, always move between him and them.  The manager was in.  She glanced up to acknowledge me and I nodded back.  My lips spasmed as I tamped down the reflex to make an insincere grin a little too late.  I stood between him and her, his expansive movements and slow swing of the big toolbox no doubt making him as plain as day.

     Glancing back at her as the elevator finally arrived, I saw she was looking down at her paperwork again.  I braced myself against the elevator door until the man was inside, then slipped in with a deep sigh.

     "Uh, a little... out of breath from... jogging back.  You didn't get the message?"

     "Message? Oh, bagel shop ting. I don' like to meet out of office.  Not professional."

     I stared at his eyes and he seemed not to notice.  They were slightly yellow and marbled with pink veins, with big pale grey satellite dishes in the center.  My throat was trying to turn inside out again, and I stopped talking until I could sort that out.

     I stayed with Niko as he went from door to door.  At each he started by taking a master key out of a tiny grey strongbox in the bottom of his tool kit which he'd use, then promptly return and seal.  As he partially disassembled each lock, installed a new tumbler, and recorded unknown numbers and letters in a little yellow notepad, I acted like he was the most interesting thing in the universe.  At first it was difficult to get him to say anything, but by the time he finished, I knew fifty new and useless things about Montenegro.

     When he was finished, the office downstairs was still open.  I followed him out, standing between him and the office again.  Standing in the alley,

     "How long before we get the keys?"

     "They'll be delivered two, three days."

     "Mm, can one of us pick them up instead?"

     "...OK."

     I didn't like getting that response from people at this company.

     "Listen, I have some things to do in the neighborhood where your office is.  I'll stop by at the beginning of the day after tomorrow, the day after that, right?"

     "...I don't know why.  OK."

     I don't want you jerks calling the office and don't trust you to call an alternate number if I give you one.  "It's no problem, and thanks for everything Niko."

     Then I had to go find out where their office was located.

                                                        ***

     The next day I woke up in my then thoroughly rumpled disguise, head aching from immoderate consumption of Midori with grapefruit soda.  I was an hour late for work, but my delusions of charming my way out of a layoff had sloughed away while I was playing hooky.  I rolled onto my belly with my head hanging off the edge of the cushion, and slid my phone from under the table.

     No.  No call for them.  No more of that.  The stereo had worked its way through my grunge folder completely and was now into joke bands.  Liam Lynch dared me to haul my bowling ball cranium off the couch.  Not cool.

     While my head thundered down the alley, I punched the off button and returned quickly to the couch.  Strike.  As the pins quieted down, I wondered about my friends.  If you could call them that.  When I was a child, friends were people you shared your soul with at three in the morning.  All I had now were coworkers.

     I liked a few of them well enough.  Stephanie Kim admired me as a vision of her possible future - she just started transitioning while we worked together.  But everybody had rubbed me the wrong way at some point or another, even Stephanie.  A few months before, I overheard her having a weird racist conversation with some white dude about how Japan, Korea, and China were the great, classical civilizations of Asia.  Like the rest of us were all in grass skirts sacrificing cattle.

     And the rest of them, mostly white guys, just full of themselves in a culture that held them up as the avant garde of human existence.  Tech culture would change the world.  Startups were the innovators that would bring on the technological singularity and whatnot.  Or at the very least, they would be the next Microsoft millionaires - as if that was something that ever happened now.

     That wasn't even so bad.  I got along well with most of my team.  But the way they were acting during this upgrade situation...  The solemn judgmental nods.  The talk about how easy the new code was.  Fuck those guys all to hell.

     Which left me with nothing like friends.  But that's how it always was between jobs.  I'd just never let myself slip out the door like this before.  It felt different, and much more final.  I was turning into a shadow, voluntarily consigning myself to an existence outside of the human race.

     Then my bladder came knocking, reminding me what being human was really all about.

                                                        ***

     Read part two here.