#you have been complaining that’s low attendance and it’s probably gonna fail I hate

[princesscallyie]

It’s seem like I can’t escape the “people don’t want to come to work so now I gotta do their mess” shenanigans…

[somethingusefulfromflorida]

13 Keys to the White House: UPDATE

The original post can be read here, I wrote it a day before George Floyd was murdered, and the political landscape has shifted SO MUCH since then.

There are 13 questions that define which party will win the presidential election based on how well the incumbent and challenging parties have fared over the last four years.  The incumbent party needs 8 out of 13 to be true to win, while the challengers need 6 or more to be false.  As of May 25, it stood, in order of severity

FALSE

FALSE

FALSE

Almost certainly false

Probably false

Maybe false

Unclear

Maybe

Maybe true

True as of right now

TRUE

TRUE

TRUE

Biden and Trump both has 3 solid keys in their field, with three more teetering on either side, and one tossup in the middle.  It was anybody’s game, though Biden had a slight edge because he only needs 6 to Trump’s 8.

Not everything has changed in the last week, but just enough to solidify some of the less certain keys

Party Mandate:  After the midterm elections, the incumbent party holds more seats in the U.S. House of Representatives than after the previous midterm elections.  FALSE (Democrats won more in 2018 than Republicans won in 2014)

Contest:  There is no serious contest for the incumbent party nomination. TRUE (Donald Trump faces no real challengers)

Incumbency: The incumbent party candidate is the sitting president.  TRUE (barring the coronavirus, or a heart attack brought on by all the fast food he eats, Donald Trump will be the nominee this November)

Third party:  There is no significant third party or independent campaign. TRUE (Amash has dropped out, and the Libertarians have nominated a nobody who chose an even smaller nobody as her running mate.  But then again, the election is 5 months away, which in 2020-months is approximately 9000 years away; a lot can change between now and then.  I mean, just 5 months ago the coronavirus hadn’t spread outside of China yet.  Maybe a conservative spoiler will gain traction.  Maybe some disillusioned republicans will rally behind a write-in candidate.  Maybe an asteroid hits and we all have to move underground and evolve into C.H.U.D.s to survive.  Anything goes in 2020.  Blow on them dice, LUCK BE A LADY)

Short-term economy: The economy is not in recession during the election campaign.  FALSE (The Great Shutdown, the second once-in-a-lifetime economic collapse in less than 15 years. We’re only four months into it right now; things are going to get so much worse before they get better.)

Long-term economy:  Real per capita economic growth during the term equals or exceeds mean growth during the previous two terms.  Almost Certainly False (Unemployment continues to rise at record breaking levels. Civil unrest is widespread in all 50 states, several territories, and even international cities in solidarity with the cause.  The pandemic is far from over, and we are on the verge of a second wave..  There’s no chance in hell the economy will grow this year.  2020 is the Spiders Georg of years; it is a statistical outlier, it’s so low it’ll bring down the rest of the whole term, wiping out all growth since 2017.  I mean, Republicans wanted trump to run the country like one of his businesses, and he’s giving them exactly what they wanted.  This is his MO; run it into the ground, declare bankruptcy, don’t pay anyone, move onto your next failed project.  Same shit as always)

Policy change: The incumbent administration effects major changes in national policy.Unclear  (He hasn’t kept many of his campaign promies, but he has enriched himself and his colleagues, abusing the power of the executive for personal gain, which is a pretty major change.  This key will come down to the Supreme Court decisions on his tax returns; if they decide in favor of the president, they are saying that he doesn’t have to obey subpoenas anymore, expanding the powers of the president and getting rid of legislative oversight, checks and balances; this would be a HUGE policy change akin to declaring him a king, as it would mean he is no long capable of being held accountable for anything.  If they decide against him though, a lot of skeletons will come bursting out of his closet, which may or may not damage him politically.  Let’s be honest, they won’t.   Nothing ever does.  The tax returns could reveal that he has been paying a Russian company called “WE MEDDLE, YOU WIN, GUARANTEE” for thirty years, and he and his cronies will still spin it as a positive thing.  Nothing ever hurts this guy, so I wonder why he even gives a shit about hiding his taxes anymore.  All we know is that he has to be hiding something BIG if he’s going this far to try and cover it up,  Could this take him down?  Probably not, but fingers crossed.)

Social unrest:  There is no sustained social unrest during the term.  FALSE  (I made this post before the George Floyd protests began, but there’s no ambiguity about it now.   The cracks in the system have been expanding for years, and now the dam has finally burst.  And rightfully so; riots are the language of the unheard.  My only concerns are that if the protests continue into November, a bunch of republican lawmakers are gonna use it as an excuse to stop people from voting. ”Curfew begins at 8PM, anyone still in line at their polling places will be arrested and/or shot”)

Scandal:  The incumbent administration is untainted by major scandal.  FALSE (there’s only so much you an handle before you drop all pretenses and say “this is no longer subjective, this is objectively scandalous.”  Everything they do is designed to get as big a reaction as possible, they pick the objectively worst people and take the objectively worst positions on everything because they’re trying to stoke controversy.  Russia, Ukraine, carrots and potatoes.  The real meat are all the domestic scandal.  Turning off the White House lights and hunkering in a safe space underneath it like  PUNK ASS BITCH?  Mobilizing the National Guard around the country?  Teargassing protestors so he can pose with a Bible he’s never read in front of a church he’s never attended, holding it up like it’s some annoying obligation of his, “see? See, I like the Bible. Look, I’m holding it up.  Why would I be holding it up if I didn’t just LOOOOOVE it?  Can everybody see?  I’m holding it out at arms length and waving it back and forth just to make sure all the cameras know, I want then to get a good shot of it. I will shortly give it to an aide and be taken home in my limo, at which point I will forget the Bible exists because my brain is turning to jelly and I’ve lost the concept of object permanence.”)

Foreign/military failure:  The incumbent administration suffers no major failure in foreign or military affairs. Maybe (on the one hand, Iran didn’t retaliate when we killed their general, but on the other hand we retreated out of Syria, let thousands of ISIS fighters go, and aided the Turks in a Kurdish genocide.  The tit-for-tat sanctions against China threatened to crash the global economy, but then the coronavirus came in and did that all by itself, so it’s unclear whether we’ve “failed” or simply “not succeeded.”)

Foreign/military success:  The incumbent administration achieves a major success in foreign or military affairs. Maybe false? (for the same reason as above, it is hard to judge what is or isn’t a success.  USMCA is unpopular and small potatoes.  The North Korean talks are all show with no substance; Kim will never get rid of his nukes.   We’re still caught up in W’s endless wars, and I don’t see an end in sight, so I’d say this is definitely not a success. I have no doubt in my mind the October Surprise is gonna be another bombing in Iran to kill the ayatollah. The Iran War will start on November 3, same day as the election, there will be the first draft since Vietnam, a bunch of POCs will be forced into the military as cannon fodder; it’ll be a bloodbath for both sides)

Incumbent charisma: The incumbent party candidate is charismatic or a national hero.  FALSE (Trump is revered as the Second Coming of Christ by his base, but they make up less than 40% of the total country; other Republicans tolerate him at best, and all Democrats hate him. He has never had majority approval, he will never go down with the likes of the universally beloved Washington, Lincoln, and the Roosevelts.  The most surprising thing of the last six months has got to be the emergence of the Lincoln Project, a coalition of Republicans who have finally grown spines, guts, and balls to stand up against trump and actively campaign against him.  He doesn’t have total party control anymore, the Republicans are eroding, though to be fair the Democrats eroded a long time ago; the Republicans are a crumbling cairn, longstanding but now weakened and in danger of falling over, while the Democrats are a nice gravel walkway that everyone steps on and complains about even though the walkway is a nice addition to the park; it really ties the negative space together, linking the tennis courts with the pull-up bars.  I’ve lost the thread of this analogy)

Challenger charisma:  The challenging party candidate is not charismatic or a national hero.  TRUE (Joe Biden is the Walter Mondale of Al Gores.  Republicans hate him,  even though he’s a moderate an would almost certainly try to reach across the aisle to compromise with them.  Which is exactly why about half of Democrats don’t really like him; he’s too moderate and would work with Republicans.  He’s old and senile, he keeps making gaffe after gaffe after gaffe, and doesn’t seem to know how the game is played anymore.  Someone needs to find Grampa a nice home so he can retire and talk to his nurse about how he used to get into fist fights with ne’er-do-wells, “buncha malarkey, I tell ya”)

This gives us, from best to worst:

FALSE

FALSE

FALSE

FALSE

FALSE

Almost Certainly False

Maybe false

unclear

Maybe

TRUE

TRUE

TRUE

TRUE

Incumbent Trumps needs 8 true to win.  Challenger Biden needs 6 false to win.

Biden definitely has 5, he only needs 1 more to claim it, and there are two good keys that are leaning heavily in his favor; trump’s long-term economy is in the tank, and he hasn’t had any victories overseas.  Biden has this one in the bag [don’t grow complacent, there’s still plenty of fuckery to be had from here to November]

Trumps would need to flip four keys to win, only one of which leans in his favor, one is unclear, and two are in Biden’s court.  The economy is in ruins, he hasn’t set up any real domestic Trump Doctrine, and the military has neither succeeded nor failed in any meaningful way these last four years.  He’s going into November with a major disadvantage, perhaps the only time in his life he has ever not had an advantage.

But then again, there’s always the possibility that it could be a 2000/2016 repeat, where Biden wins the popular vote but Trump ekes by with the electoral college victory yet again.  This model doesn’t take that into account because the popular vote winner almost always wins the EC too.

Trump is not more popular today than he was 4 years ago.  He’s never had majority approval.  While his base loves him more now than ever, they represent a minority of voters, and pretty much everyone else hates him.  Anyone who was on the fence in 2016 is definitively over the fence in 2020.  If he “wins,” it’s not going to be a 1972/1984 blowout, that’s just not gonna happen, too many states hate him too much.  It will be very close; I will not rule out the possibility of a 269-269 tie in the electoral college, triggering a contingent election where the House of Representatives has to pick the president.  Democrats have a majority in the House right now, but in contingent elections they don’t vote as 435 individuals, they vote as 50 state blocs; even though there are more Democrats than Republicans, they’re packed together into as few states as possible, giving Republicans over 26 stateside majorities, enough to ensure they would pick Trump in a contingent election.

It’s a bullshit system, and I pray it doesn’t come to that.

[iya5rt]

Kalopsia Project [Bakugo Katsuki x Reader – Tokyo Ghoul AU]

Chapter 3 – The Rookie Always Has It Tough

Chapter Summary: Now that you’ve been welcomed into Yuuei, it’s time for you to make good of your promise and begin with your new job. Though the first day’s already bringing you a new surprise or two…

Kalopsia Project Masterpost

Making coffee was an art form.

It was a long process, consisting of many steps, each varying in difficulty or skills required. Sure, you could just get some from a coffee machine beside the school, but it was only after being made aware of all the steps that got you your small cup of bitter goodness that you could truly appreciate coffee for what it was.

Sadly, it was an art form few got to experience in their lifetime. There weren’t many coffee enthusiasts out there, after all. But you see, preparing to begin work at a cafe really opened your eyes about all this.

And about one more thing.

That you really sucked at brewing coffee.

“You really can’t do the simplest of things properly, can you?” Bakugo sighed from where he was leaning on the counter beside you. He looked tired (who could blame him – he must have slept maybe 4 hours total, what with everything that had happened the previous night), as he was carefully eyeing your pitiful attempts at making coffee. Two cups were discarded to the side. Those had been the products of your first two tries, though Bakugo had given each a single sip, before declaring it a fail.

You had to give it to him – he was a lot nicer than he could have been. After all, the first one had nearly made you gag.

Having finished preparing your third cup for the day (and it was only early morning too), you also sighed and stepped back, silently praying to the heavens this one would be passable. Crossing your arms, you turned to look at Bakugo.

“Well, excuse me, Mr. I’ve-been-doing-this-for-years, but may I remind you that I’ve never had to brew coffee until today?” You pouted. Bakugo pushed himself off the counter and moved to pour the two cups of “poisonous” (as he had called it) coffee in the sink. Your heart sank at the sight of your hard work disappearing down the drain.

There go two hours of my life, I guess.

“And I’ve never had to train an ungrateful human girl, so I guess we’re even.”

“Aw, come on, Bakugo-kun, don’t be so harsh on her. She’s still a novice at this whole thing,” a cheerful voice interrupted, before you could retort anything back yourself. The two of you turned to see a girl with short brown hair and very rosy cheeks smiling back at you, as she was tying her apron behind her back. You gave a grateful sigh.

“Thank you, Uraraka. Glad someone here’s got my back.” The girl waved her hand dismissively.

“Don’t mention it. We’ve been needing the help anyway. I will admit – the circumstances are… unexpected. But you’re a nice girl, after all.”

You’d met a few more of Yuuei’s employees shortly after waking up in the morning and going through a short check-up with Midoriya. You were surprised to find that most of them were students like yourself, and, most of all, had welcomed you with open arms (or at the very least – understanding nods).

Uraraka was one of them. She was the only other girl you had met so far and worked here as a waitress. Since she was two years younger than you, she was still a high-school student and as such, was a bit more lacking when it came to free-time. Though from what Midoriya had told you, she was always working here on the weekends. You found her to be very pleasant. The easiest to get along with too. You wouldn’t have minded if it had been her showing you the ropes.

“Alright, enough wasting of perfectly good coffee beans. I hope you’re better at the table waiting thing,” Bakugo sighed again, pushing you aside to take your place in brewing coffee. His push ended up a little careless, as your shoulders rubbed.

You know – his perfectly good shoulder and your very much still injured shoulder.

You flinched a little, not quite muffling the small sound that escaped your lips. For a moment, Bakugo cocked a brow at you, but when his eyes darted to the bandages peeking beneath the t-shirt you wore, he seemed to remember.

“Uh, my bad...” he mumbled awkwardly, choosing to train his eyes somewhere on the counter instead. You giggled.

“Oh, don’t worry, it’s fine.” Bakugo didn’t seem convinced but motioned to the other side of the counter with his head anyway.

“Go to half-’n-half. He’ll put some cups on a tray and you try to carry those. See if… your shoulder’s gonna bother you...” You nodded and thanked him. Instead of leaving though, you got distracted watching the blond as he worked away. Despite the way he spoke and acted, his touch and movements as he poured the water seemed so gentle and precise. Only now did you realize how much you still had to learn. Your distraction was interrupted when he noticed your eyes were still on him and looked up from his handiwork. “What’re you waiting for? You know we’re opening soon, right?”

You jumped and furiously waved your hands.

“O-oops, my bad, haha. I’m going!”

Finally tearing your eyes away from him, you found the “half-’n-half” in question quietly washing some cups and glasses at the sink. You weren’t sure why Bakugo insisted on calling him that though. Was it his hair that was dyed half-red and half-white? Perhaps. Quite the rebellious stage he must have had, you’d give him that.

There was also this painful-looking scar on his left eye, though you doubted even Bakugo would sink this low. He didn’t seem to care much about appearances anyway.

You’d learned his name was Todoroki – he had been one of the people who’d peacefully acknowledged you with an expressionless nod. Then again, he seemed to be a little stone-faced in general, so perhaps this was to be expected. He’d made no hostile comments or given you a reason to suspect he disagreed, so you decided this was probably his way of welcoming you to Yuuei.

You wondered what had happened to him to leave him as he was (though you’d heard he went to a prestigious university despite it all), not to mention the unpleasant scar, but you decided not to question it or ask around – everybody had their circumstances, and you could only assume ghouls’ were more complicated than the rest. Hell – you were a human working in a cafe full of ghouls. And you… surprisingly didn’t see any of them complaining left and right. At least not yet.

When you approached him, Todoroki gave a silent nod, and pulled a tray up on the counter, filling cups and glasses with all sorts of different drinks.

“What do you plan to do with school now, [L/N]-kun?” a voice asked from somewhere behind you. You turned to find a boy with neatly trimmed dark hair and a pair of glasses cleaning all the tables. Even if Bakugo hadn’t made fun of the fact earlier, you would have probably still managed to deduce that he attended a private college, just by how he looked.

“Just [F/N]’s fine, Ida-kun,” you brushed off his polite tone. “Midoriya-kun said my shoulder should heal soon, so I guess I’ll just call in sick in the meanwhile. Don’t want some of the more nasty professors marking me absent for no reason...” You could almost hear Bakugo grit his teeth behind you – you shared a class with a certain very uptight teacher with him, and you knew he hated his guts.

“Won’t it be suspicious if you and the person you were out on a date with disappear all of a sudden?” Todoroki asked, making you hum in thought for a second.

“Well, you’re not wrong. I guess there will be some rumors. I’ll just have to… brush them off, I guess?” you shrugged. “I’ve always had particularly thick skin so I’ll be fine!!”

You smiled, though that smile fell a little when you remembered how last time you just ‘brushed things off’ you were almost killed on a first date. You really had to take note of that stuff more.

“Alright everyone,” Aizawa called upon emerging from one of the back rooms. You’d heard something about him and Midoriya talking with somebody over the phone, though you assumed you weren’t supposed to know of any further details, so you refrained from asking. “We’re opening now, so stop wasting time and being irrational. [F/N],” he looked at you. “You’re to sit back and observe for today. You should get the hang of this by tomorrow.”

You nodded and moved to sit on one of the bar stools, noting how everyone went back to business. Ida turned the sign to say ‘open’ and went to adjust the tables on the outside. Todoroki disappeared to fetch more coffee from one of the back rooms. Uraraka and Bakugo sat back and waited for the first customers to start coming in.

You noted that Midoriya was still nowhere in sight, but you assumed he was finally getting some rest, after staying up all night because of you. You’d have to thank him and apologize when he woke up. Aizawa seemingly stayed up with him as well, thought he didn’t have the luxury of resting during the day. That explained the bags under his eyes. Good thing they were serving coffee.

The cafe was soon filled with people of all kinds – from children with their parents, students with their books and laptops, even through to an elderly couple or two. Although you wondered – how many of them really were people? You’d never felt such uncertainty before.

But you smiled at the scene unfolding before your eyes.

This had been one of the warmest welcomes of your life. Despite having been at Yuuei for only a handful of hours (a majority of which you’d spend unconscious or simply asleep), you felt like this was just the place for you.

And honestly? You could not believe it.

***

Like Aizawa had promised, the following day was your first day on the field. It was Sunday morning anyway, so there weren’t many people up and about quite yet.

Of course, Aizawa had no plans of busying himself any further. Despite having presumably slept all night for once, like a normal human being, he still looked like he hadn’t gotten even a blink of rest. You were beginning to suspect he just looked like this all the time.

“I’m suddenly regretting everything,” Bakugo muttered, rubbing at his temple. You had been appointed to him. Again. It wasn’t like he even had to teach you anything. ‘Just make sure she doesn’t screw up, because then you’re both responsible,’ Aizawa had said.

Truth be told, you were a little scared of your new manager, so you had no intention of making him mad. And there was this whole thing that you felt like you had a debt to repay so you couldn’t let yourself be a burden too. But the fear was greater…

It had been about half an hour since opening, and Bakugo had instructed you to just sit back and watch everybody else for now. He had taken to pointing out which customers were human, and which were ghouls. The weirdest part? He wasn’t even looking up from whatever he was doing, be it brewing coffee, washing cups, or making sandwiches. As soon as the bell chimed to signal someone had walked in, he’d quietly tell you. You racked your brain a little, but soon remembered why this could be.

“Say, Bakugo-kun?” He hummed to acknowledge that you have been heard. “My parents had told me that some ghouls have an especially developed sense of smell, which can easily tell a human apart from a ghoul.” He tensed, though you weren’t sure why. Had you been speaking too loudly? Was he afraid someone might hear you? He shook this behavior off though, and answered.

“Yeah. That’s right. It’s not very common but there are those of us who have it.” You nodded along.

“So you knew Monoma-kun was a ghoul right away then?” Bakugo stopped suddenly, and finally looked up at you.

“Yeah. What – you’re gonna get mad I didn’t warn you? I hope you realize how stupid that would have been.”

“Oh no, no. I’m just curious is all.” You smiled, while Bakugo returned to cutting a small tomato. Soon enough, he was back to pointing out what every new customer was. You were surprised to say the least – you’d expected there to not be many clueless humans, but you noted that it was in fact the ghouls that were few and far between.

“Well, someone’s being awfully quiet.”

You jumped at the sudden call-out. When you turned to look at Bakugo, you noticed a small smirk on his lips.

“You surprised they look so similar?” he asked. You looked away, a little ashamed to admit he was right. He was a ghoul so he had probably been looked down upon time and time again by other humans. You didn’t have the heart to tell him you expected the difference between your two kinds to be greater, more easily noticed, but he’d seen through your silence regardless.

“I… I guess… Everyone here looks so… so normal,” you muttered, though you quickly caught yourself. “N-not that you aren’t normal but- but… I… Oh, forget it, I can’t make this not sound bad...” You pouted. Bakugo hummed, as he once again tore his eyes away from you.

“You act as if everyone else doesn’t make it sound worse. I can’t really relate a lot to what you’re feeling right now since I’ve always been able to tell the two apart. But if you asked anyone else here, you’d be surprised to hear your experiences are a little more universal than you think.” He suddenly stopped mid-movement and lowered his voice, eyebrows furrowing. “If you really think about it, humans and ghouls are practically indistinguishable from one another. Not until they show their true colors...”

Both of you went silent. You stared at Bakugo intently, wondering if he had even meant to tell you this in the first place. He looked troubled, as if this was something that bothered him personally. And everyone knew there weren’t many things that bothered him personally.

I guess everyone’s general mistreatment of ghouls does get to him every once in a while…

“Bakugo-kun…?” you quietly called out. This seemed to snap him out of his daze and he shook his head, returning to his duty.

“Anyway, most of the ghouls here are regulars. Though you don’t have to rack your brain to remember all of them – they come often enough, so you’ll have them memorized in no time.” The door chimed once again, and this time Bakugo looked up. “See the old lady that just walked in?” Your eyes followed a short old woman with gray hair pulled up in a tight bun. She found a small table beside the window and sat down. You turned to look at Bakugo.

“Yeah?”

“Her name’s Shuzenji Chiyo. She’s a ghoul too. And she also has a keen sense of smell. She’ll be able to tell you’re human.”

“Okay. So?”

“So!? Go take her order, dumbass.”

“Eh?”

“That’s what you’re supposed to be doing, remember?”

“I, well… yeah, that’s right! Alright then!” You stood up and took a few deep breaths. “Yeah – I’m going!” Bakugo looked at you oddly, though you didn’t notice. He must have thought you were going crazy.

You took the notepad and pen on the counter beside you and headed to the old woman’s table, Uraraka giving you a big grin and a wink, as she passed you by on the way to relay an order of her own.

“Good morning, ma’am – may I take your order?” you smiled at the woman. Your heart briefly sank when her eyes widened and she looked back to the counter. Following her line of sight, you noticed she was looking at Bakugo, who nodded back at her. The lady finally relaxed and smiled at you too.

“I’m sorry, dear – you seem to be new here and I didn’t quite recognize your face.”

“Please don’t be concerned – I haven’t gotten used to this place yet either. And I understand why you would be alarmed.” The woman looked at you for a quiet moment, probably wondering if you knew about her and the other ghouls here, though she couldn’t exactly ask you that. She must have been satisfied with your confident smile though.

“A short black coffee, please,” she ordered and took to looking out the window. You quickly noted in your notepad (not that you needed to – it was pretty simple to remember, after all) and thanked her, returning to the counter.

Upon returning however, You found that Bakugo had abandoned his duty and was instead glaring daggers at Midoriya, who had come beside him and was giving you a big thumbs-up.

“A short black coffee...” you relayed as soon as you approached the two.

“Coming right away!” Midoriya exclaimed. “Congratulations on your first client, [F/N]-san!” he said, as he turned around to prepare the order. You blushed a little.

“Th-thank you… Not that it was a difficult job, haha...”

From that point on, Bakugo would point out a friendly ghoul or clueless human for you to wait on every once in a while. You were getting the hang of things, not that there was much to get the hang of, especially with how supportive and friendly everyone was being. You noticed the occasional customers shooting you some surprised looks, likely not having expected a newcomer. Those must have been the regulars that Bakugo had mentioned.

There were a handful that looked… a little less nice. You noticed their eyes trailing you, and you didn’t like their stares one bit. They felt almost like those of a creepy stalker or a cat caller, except somehow more malicious. You didn’t need a keen sense of smell to tell they were not human, though you were grateful to Bakugo, who didn’t send you out for any orders while they were in the cafe. Or a few minutes after, for that matter.

He really seemed to care more than he let out.

Before you knew it, it was closing time for Yuuei.

Though it seemed like Aizawa had other plans for you. Yeah, sure, you could have been resting, letting your wounds heal quicker, even studying for when you would eventually have to begin attending classes once again.

Instead, you were stuck taking out the trash.

‘Don’t mind the manager – he always makes the rookie take out the trash,’ Uraraka had told you. She looked strangely relieved though. You couldn’t help but assume she had been said ‘rookie’ until you came around.

Well, I did say I would do anything to repay them… I guess I only have myself to blame…

Fortunately, it wasn’t a very difficult task. All you had to do was take out the trash bags and bring them outside through the back door, where the dumpsters were.

How convenient.

The bags smelled mostly of coffee which, considering the nature of your new workplace, was to be expected. You briefly wondered if they kept any… food (the kind that wasn’t exactly meant for humans) somewhere in the back rooms, but you decided it’d be better just to ask. Bakugo probably wouldn’t have hesitated to tell you anyway.

Throwing away the final black bag, you wiped the sweat off your forehead (those things were heavier than they looked), and turned to open the door and get away from the unpleasant smell of the dumpsters.

Unfortunately, your luck seemed to be non-existent these days.

An arm slammed against the door from behind you, preventing you from opening it. Suddenly you were very aware of the shadows looming over you.

Turning around slowly, you found two men keeping you trapped between themselves and the door. One had chin-length blond hair and big eyes that looked a little less than sane to you. The other sported long black hair and seemed drunk off his mind. This wasn’t looking good.

You wondered if anyone inside would hear you if you were to scream.

Creepy ghouls wanting to eat me, and now some drunk guys trapping me in an alley. This can’t be good. How do I keep getting myself in these situations!?

You were suddenly thankful for the self-defense skills your parents had taught you. Sure, it wasn’t much, but they made sure that if you were ever cornered by creeps like these, you’d be capable enough to escape them and run off to the nearest place with other people buzzing about.

“Hmm, who knew Yuuei had such a little gem hidden away,” the blond man grinned, leaning in closer. The other only nodded along – he seemed too out of it to even speak. You, on the other hand, inched back.  “If the taste matches the scent, you’ll be quite the exotic treat.”

Before you could remark why everything seemed to revolve around smell today, you sucked in a breath as it dawned on you.

Treat…?

No way. Not again.

A mere second later, the man’s eyes turned black and red, as his grin widened.

“Let’s test that out, shall we?”

***

[CLASSIFIED INFORMATION]

Protocol K78152112

Subject #17

Real Name: N/A

Background: Taken from a CCG-funded orphanage.

Results: Mutations; change of skin color to an unnatural and sickly hue.

Signs of success were present; subject survived for multiple days, though had to be restrained; died due to complications stemming from the increased Rc count.

(scribbled in pen) Huh, seems to work better with younger subjects…

***

Author’s Note: Bam – cliffhanger! I would like to say I’m generally not one to leave you hanging every week, but this story’s doing weird things to me, it seems like.

Thank you guys so, so much for all the support on last week’s launch of this story by the way! It makes me incredibly happy to know you’re all enjoying it and I’m so excited to continue with it too! Here’s a quick recap of some easter eggs from this chapter – the old woman Bakugo sent Reader-chan to was actually Recovery Girl (I just used her real name instead); the two guys that have her trapped in that alleyway are actually two of Overhaul’s men – Setsuno Toya and Sakaki Deidoro (though the concept of the Eight Precepts of Death/Shie Hassaikai probably doesn’t exist here)! Just a fun little nod to canon!

Anyway, I had tonnes of fun writing the peaceful bonding time with Bakugo, and I hope you enjoyed it too! Thank you so much for reading, please drop a comment to let me know what you thought, and I’ll see you again next Wednesday! Bye~

(Psst, @afuckingunicornn  @creativedogs  @chims-kookies  - thank you for the support and here is the next part!)

[stkambln]

“No Laughing Matter” Mega Post

(I’m reblogging this post from last year today, September 21, 2018. I fixed some gifs and made tiny changes.)

This is the episode I have invested the most time on ever. I wanted to have this ready earlier, but it took way more time than I imagined. Also, it became way bigger than I planned. But if you liked the episode and really like Luan, take a look at it for some interesting details.

Some of the stuff I talk about here probably never was in the mind of the writers. They could say this isn’t how they wrote Luan here. But that’s just it. This is how I see Luan’s character in No Laughing Matter.

Reflections, a bit of analysis, some a little bit dark speculations, and a LOT of GIFs and images

...

“No Laughing Matter” was sad actually, but just for the needed amount of time. However, during that time, it almost costed me tears.

That little melody… that was so sad. And what the heck Leni: “She’s so annoying!”, and Lincoln: “I wish she would just stop!” You guys are supposed to be the nicest siblings! I guess sometimes, even if unintentionally, your loved ones can hurt you really. 

Notice her voice during the time we can’t see her face because of all the funny stuff she carries. Also when she’s throwing it all into the bag, even when Lincoln is speaking at the same time. To me, it kind of sounds like Luan is trying not to cry.

Luan surely cried for some time after hearing her siblings complain. But now that she’s throwing away all her beloved comedy props, she must have felt sad again. She might had been considering doing it at some point, but after revealing what she was feeling to Lincoln, she probably had a moment of anger and decided to finish with all this stupid comedy thing for good. And she just threw Mr. Coconuts in the bag! And she referred to all of it as “trash”! 

And of course, this was called. They had to take Luan's “Get it?!” and use it against her. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had another emotional breakdown after she forced Lincoln out of her now empty room, and couldn’t find any trace of what she used to be.

This was the most tragic, and also the most wrong conclusion Luan reached. Because if some don’t laugh with you, it doesn’t mean others won’t. But apparently, Luan can’t believe she’s funny to anyone if she thinks her siblings dislike her comedy that much.

Now, this was a different side of Luan, being all low and speaking scarily normal. Luan’s behavior and language is lacking of anything that differentiates her from the rest.  

She’s like an actress reading her lines just because whatever.

Unlike that merry melody that was played when Luan was inviting the kids to her show, there’s no music at all in these scenes.

It looks as if she was also “practicing” how to be nice to her siblings. Even complimenting them.

Somebody said Luan is apathetic rather than depressed, and I think that’s right at some point. However, Luan wasn’t just walking around like a zombie, not caring for anything. Her clever comedian mind was working hard for another purpose.

You look at her face. She’s trying to decide which is the appropriate way to react to this without using a joke.

You could probably say that she’s just puzzled about her siblings doing these unusual things, but remember, just recently, Luan used to respond to everything with a punny comment. Now, she has quit that, so behaving “normally” in these everyday situations is sort of a new territory she’s exploring.

At some moments, I’d dare to say she even looks afraid she could be responding wrong to her siblings.

And boy, she was way far from being unemotional. It doesn’t happen everyday that we get to see so many different faces from Luan. For now, let’s focus on the fact that Luan can be serious too, and get genuinely angry.

But really, who wouldn’t lose it if your siblings keep spitting many fluids of various flavors in your face? She had to change her clothes at least three times that day.

And something curious, what was the deal with this book?

What exactly was she so interested in that she even had to read it while walking? That’s dangerous, Luan!

Kind of looks like... some computer program thing?

It may be that Luan was trying to find something new to dedicate her life to. Or perhaps, this was some way of avoid thinking in comedy?

All in all Luan was trying to adapt to her new self. She apparently had accepted the change pretty fast and maturely. That doesn’t mean she didn’t go through any hard experiences.

Lincoln finds out about Luan’s decision apparently just one day after she overheard them “venting”. Which means she went through the entire process of convincing herself she’s not funny and giving up comedy in just one night. And the next morning, she’s serving Lincoln totally harmless punch. 

Maybe it wasn’t just one night, and a few more days passed before the kids found out about Luan. In which case, all of them, and especially Luna, failed to notice something was wrong with one of the Loudest of the Louds. Either that or Luan managed to keep it in the very low profile.

I think it was the first scenario, but whatever the case was, the important matter is that this girl had a BIG internal crisis that she solved by herself.

I don’t intend to understand and explain Luan’s mental state in this episode. I just want to point out that she probably didn’t really finish detaching from her comedian self. 

We don’t know if she really cried about it, or how much she did it, or what she felt towards herself and everybody else; shame, guilt, hate, misery, etc. All we saw was that in a short period of time, she was looking just fine, without any major signs of uneasiness, and even being so confident that she had taken the right decision. This is what makes me believe she may had left some things unsolved. Because, this was her passion in life after all. She abandoned it too quickly.

And here is where I think we could talk about depression, or identity crisis, or any other psychological thing that could have hit Luan in the days after the events of the episode. And I think we get a glimpse of that possibility when the kids attend the Chortle Portal show.

So Luan decides she can go and enjoy comedy even when she is not a good comedian. She thinks everything’s alright, but she instantly begins another conflict with herself. Her belief that she’s not good at making people laugh suddenly makes her wonder if she is not even good at being capable of laughing with real good comedy.

This is where it seems that Luan didn’t solve her crisis in the right way. She has given up comedy, since she’s not funny, but now, that wrong belief is making her consider giving up something not related to not being funny. Because I think we all agree that you don’t need to be a genius comedian to... just laugh at something funny.

This is a dangerous logic that was putting Luan in a wrong path. Even catastrophic. She probably was gonna start thinking she is not good for anything related to comedy. That she doesn’t belong to comedy. She doesn’t deserve it. She’s not worthy of it.

If Lincoln hadn’t done what he did, and had they just watched all the performances that night, Luan may had ended really damaged. 

Because the way I see it, to Luan, it still hurt. All those years working so hard to be funny had made her love comedy. And suddenly, she has to turn her back to all that. However, I don’t think she forgot her love for making people laugh in such a little time. She may have covered it with shame and sadness when realizing she was annoying to others, but it was still there. She might have forced herself to ignore it, and that’s how she thought she had solved everything.

Going to a place that celebrated comedy suddenly reminds her how much she loved that. It hurts to Luan to think how she can’t never again do what she loved most, because she’s not good at it, and that’s probably when it occurs to her that perhaps she can’t either hear a joke and laugh with it.

If she had kept thinking that way, it would’ve been too much for her to endure. She wouldn’t have been able to keep watching the comedy show, or to even think about comedy, because it hurt too much that it reminded her of what she had lost. 

So she would’ve probably ended up rejecting it. 

Luan probably would have left the building not only definitely distancing herself from comedy, but also hating it. Maybe even hating herself for having tried to be funny.

And after this, it’s almost sure she would have developed a serious case of depression. Along with who knows what other emotional scenarios. Have you ever wonder how Maggie became an Emo? Well, this looks like a probable way to it.

I almost feel tempted to put here an image of Emo Luan, but no.

Because thank God, none of that horrible stuff happened to Luan. Save that for the fanfics. And we know how it all ended.

Nobody is probably gonna know really how much good Lincoln’s plan did for Luan, but it sure had a tremendous effect on her.

She was just about to follow that wrong path from above, when her still alive comical instinct put her on stage.

You can see she doesn’t believe it at first, but it’s true. It is laughter.

We have to stop a bit to consider that Luan is used to hear laughs from almost only little kids at birthday parties, and in her house there’s usually groaning when she tells a joke. So this laughter must have been the sweetest sound she wasn’t expecting.

I absolutely love her face the precise moment she comes back.

This is no joking matter. She is making an audience of grown ups laugh. People who probably don’t even know her.

And this is probably the second most important moment of the episode. Her sisters and brother are laughing with her puns for the first time ever in the whole series!... Ok fine, that’s not fair. This should be like the second time they laugh with her jokes.

So, in the end, Luan sees that people do laugh with her comedy, and that she really is funny. Her siblings were just a little annoyed by her recent bombardment of comedy, and it was more because of the physical jokes.

Let’s take a moment to look at Luan’s happiest most sincere face that shows she feels like she just came back from death and has another chance at comedy life.

This is what she really needed and wanted to hear. And it’s the perfect scene to end the main section of this Megapost.

...

Nah, THIS is the perfect image.

...

A special mention to Leni in this episode, for breaking her sister’s heart.

But also for being the only one who thought something might had been wrong.

And of course, for this beautiful thing

...

I want to finish by remarking a couple of things about the episode in general.

On the bad side:

It bothers me that Luna wasn’t the first one in the house to notice Luan had given up comedy. I mean, Luan threw her contest flyers in the trash can in their shared bedroom. And if she did notice, then she didn’t give it much importance, or the writers didn’t take this opportunity to show more about their sisters relationship.

This crisis Luan had seems like the type of matter parents should take care of, or at least be aware of. Ok, I get they may have been busy. But they didn’t make time to attend their daughter’s very important contest? I thought at least Mr. Loud enjoyed puns.

On the good side:

Luan actually WON the Junior Comedians Contest! She made a whole audience of adult strangers laugh. That puts her in another level. She means some serious funny business now.

This experience is gonna teach Luan a lot of things. She knows exactly what, but I bet she’s gonna be more confident against critics. I wish we could say her family is gonna be less annoyed by her comedy, but it seems some things never change in the Loud House. She just have to learn to tolerate the intolerant.

...

That’s it for good now. I’m glad if you make it until this point. There will be a second part to this, of course much shorter and focusing on a different aspect of the episode. It will not be much friendly though.

Also, if somebody noticed the Charlie Brown reference in this episode (if there was any), please tell me, because I haven’t found it yet.

[lovehoundd]

Our song (Borderlands fanfiction)

paring: Handsome Jack/Rhys | word count: 3651 | tags: #fluff and angst #but mostly fluff #Rhys is drunk and emotional #so is Jack but he doesn’t show it so much #cause you know he’s tough and awesome #and totally not in love with Rhys #(he totally is) | ao3 link: x |

summary:  At one of Hyperion parties Rhys feels devastated, after hearing a song that reminds him of his first love. Jack does whatever he can to calm him down.

It was one of those „not obligatory to attend, but if you won’t show up you’re screwed” kind of parties. Jack liked to throw them every once in a while for his board members, advisors and directors only to remind them who’s pulling the strings and also to stir some water. Not that it was necessary, none of them would have climbed so high on the corporate ladder or let’s say simpler – lived, without remembering who’s in charge. Jack loved to trouble them though, to see how much can they suck up on him until making him feel sick.

But it was not only his whim to lose a lot of Hyperion money on people he hated without a reason. He wanted to be updated on all the social issues among his employees, like who had the alliance with whom, who cheated on their spouse with a secretary, who was most hated by their subordinates at the moment, who was the last man standing during the last finger gun fight. Knowing it was crucial to pushing the right buttons in this god damn firm. And what was a better occasion to find out all of this if not by giving people free drinks and playing loud music that made them think no one could hear what they say? After all, corporations were pretty much like high schools and Jack had the pleasure to be the smartest, best looking kid.

In the beginning Rhys felt bad for them all, but then he remembered that you needed to be a very ugly dick as a person to get so far in Hyperion. So instead of feeling pity for them he was just leaning against the wall, sipping some fancy-ass drink and enjoying the view of all the board members verbally crawling among Jack’s feet. When nobody was looking, Jack would turn his head to him and wink, being as amused as Rhys.

In those moments Rhys wanted to roll his eyes because of how childish Jack could be, but at the same time he felt something warm in his chest. To be honest, Jack didn’t have to do much to make Rhys feel completely vulnerable. Whenever Rhys saw any of his smile, the feeling of something melting spread inside his body. And it didn’t matter which one – it could be one of those wide, mocking grins like those on the motivational posters or even that ���now you’re gonna die” wicked smile that sometimes appeared just before Jack ejected someone into space. It wasn’t normal and Rhys knew it, but he could do nothing about it that while Jack was frightening to the others (good, healthy reaction) he made Rhys feel butterflies in his stomach (bad, bad reaction). He had to admit, he fell for Jack and fell really hard.

And it wasn’t easy, especially because of how difficult it was for Rhys to define what was exactly happening between the two of them. They were seeing each other for the last few months, but it wasn’t much more than just sex. Jack usually wanted to be professional about it and not to fuck in his own corporation so most of the time he took Rhys to his place. Usually, because there were exceptions like that one time when he called Rhys out of blue into his office. Rhys thought he just needed some help with all the paperwork but hell, he was wrong. Few minutes later Jack had him bend on his desk, pulling his hair and fucking mercilessly, Rhys making sounds he didn’t even know he was capable of making. Not that he complained or something, it was a nice distraction from all the programming he needed to finish that day, but when he walked out of Jack’s office his secretary scared the shit out of him. She was so pale, it seemed that death was the only option for her, passing out at best. She probably thought Rhys was being murdered in the most horrible way.

Then there were other times, let’s say romantic if it was possible to put the words “romantic” and “Handsome Jack” in the same sentence. When in a good mood, he sometimes took Rhys to the nice restaurants where they talked a lot, while drinking red wine which price per bottle was much higher than Rhys’ monthly salary. And sometimes after sex, when the heat of their orgasms washed off he was unusually tender, like stroking Rhys’ cheek with a thumb or laying small kisses on his forehead.

Rhys felt his cheeks burning red at the memory of Jack’s lips on his skin. The truth was, those few moments that he’s been reliving in his head for the last few weeks, Jack probably didn’t even remember nor care about. Most likely Jack saw him only as pretty new toy which he’ll throw away the moment he’ll get bored. Rhys was aware of that, but he couldn’t quit hoping that he was wrong and Jack actually cared about him, at least just a bit.

All those thoughts running through his head as well as alcohol made Rhys feel dizzy. He closed his eyes and started to slowly breathe, trying to calm down. He was never good at dealing with emotions, especially those concerning his romantic feelings towards other people. Those games, understatements, Rhys just… didn’t really get that. Of course it would be much easier to just talk it through, but for Rhys it was not an option. He’d rather jump into the fire than admit in front of Jack that he loved him.

He was starting to get his shit together, breathing in and out, when from huge speakers standing nearby came a song that Rhys knew all too well. It was played after a loud electro number and was much more retro - recorded with the usage of normal instruments, not as common these days. Rhys knew everything about this song. He could be woken up in the middle of the night and he’d sing all the lyrics without one mistake. He knew each note of every part - both guitars, bass and drums. When being a teenager, he used to listen to it almost every day.

Rhys gasped, unable to move. Hearing this song was very unexpected and brought back too many memories, especially those he never wanted to recall. The first sounds of the guitar and bass reminded him all those alone nights when he was lying in his bed, tangled in sheets, crying and thinking, with this exact piece playing in the back and one exact person in his head.

This single memory itself was enough to put Rhys on edge. He felt mild pain spreading deep in his chest and he couldn’t breathe for a few seconds. It probably wouldn’t be so bad, if it wasn’t for all that alcohol he drunk, which always made him feel more emotional.

Rhys knew that how he felt wasn’t only the reaction to the painful remembrance. It was his past trauma mixed with what he was experiencing right now with all the situation between him and Jack. Rhys supposed that most other people wouldn’t be disturbed so much by it like he was, just waiting for everything to pass sooner or later, but he didn’t function in a way other people did. It was really hard for him to fall in love, but when he did, it was something absolute, completely overwhelming.

His head rested against the wall, while he tried to overcome the wave of feelings that washed through his mind. When he felt tears running down his cheeks, Rhys knew he failed.

He walked slowly towards the balcony, hoping he’ll calm down there, not wanting to draw anyone’s attention. Showing a weakness in front of other Hyperions was the quickest way to lose in this never ending strength game. “Never lower you guard kid.” Jack used to tell him. Rhys mentally sighed, because in reality he was choking with tears. “Fucking high school, this firm is nothing but a fucking high school,” he thought.

“… and the idea to put a suppressor an our newest model, sir, absolutely brilliant!” Jack’s eyes lazily wandered around the room when he observed dancing and talking figures, not focusing on the small man in front of him. Till this moment he didn’t listen much, answering only with low grunts. But now he was getting bored, the level of irritation reaching its peak. He finally looked the man in front of him in the eyes, who trembled in response.

“Listen cupcake, if I came here only to find out how awesome I am, I’d spare the time of us all by staying home and simply looking in the mirror. Now get lost.” The man’s face was a kaleidoscope of emotions, from a toady smile to pure horror, ending on a pale relief. Jack only rolled his eyes. It always looked the same with them all, fucking cowards. He had enough of all those jerks, at least for now on.

Jack wanted to have some real fun right now, he needed to find Rhysie. He could pull him into the bathroom for a blowie or something like that. Or maybe they had a darkroom here, ohh, that’d be good. Jack smiled at the thought of what he could do to Rhys in a place like that, but it was rather him being a daydreamer than actual plans. True, he was drunk and horny (not more than usual), but he had enough self-control to remember that he was surrounded by assholes who should know as little as possible. Next time maybe. And frankly, he was rather in a mood for talking with Rhys than fucking him. Not that he would ever say that out loud.

He saw Rhys walking out of the club onto the balcony, wiping his face with a sleeve of his black shirt and Jack felt that something was off. He headed there, bumping into a talking couple, not entirely by accident. It was important to maintain his reputation of a giant dick.

The night was warm and quiet, so it felt good to escape the noisy indoor for a moment. Jack inhaled slowly. He always liked the smell of the summer night, especially that it was probably going to rain, electricity pulsing in the air.

On the balcony was a group of people from accountancy who were talking and smoking, too much focused on themselves to notice that Handsome Jack himself walked in there. In the furthest corner Rhys was standing with his hands clenched on a railings and shoulders trembling a little bit.

“Everybody out,” Jack hissed, making all the accountants silent at once. All their faces went pale as they walked out quickly.

Rhys slowly turned his teary eyes on Jack, sending him a weak smile. Jack approached him, leaning on the railings next to Rhys, their arms touching.

“Hey,” Rhys said quietly.

“Hey.”

There was a silence for a moment and none of them knew if it was comfortable or awkward.

“You okay, pumpkin?” Jack finally asked after a while.

“Yeah sure, why wouldn’t I?” Rhys tried to sound nonchalant, but Jack didn’t buy it and only frowned in response.

“Because I can see that you’re not. C’mon sugar, spit it out.”

“It’s really nothing, I drank too much and I’m tired, that’s all. Please don’t bother.” Jack felt a wave of anger building down in his stomach, patience never being one of his strong points.

“Princess, you think that I’m what, stupid? I can see you’re feeling down, so don’t you try  giving me short shift!”

Rhys sighed. Talking with Jack about his exes was almost equal to suicide. Normally he kinda liked it, Jack being possessive and jealous made Rhys feel like he cared about him. Though it wasn’t pretty healthy, but which part of their relationship was? But now Rhys was so emotionally disturbed that he wouldn’t be able to put the words as carefully as it needed to be done when talking with Jack about problematic topics. It was almost sure that at some point he’d blunder, making Jack furious. But not talking would be even worse. Damn this hot-headed jerk.

“As I already said, it’s… really stupid and not worth you attention. But you won’t drop it, am I right?” Jack didn’t answer only looking at Rhys with a “fucking try me” look on his face. It was everything Rhys was expecting, so he snorted sadly.

“The song that was playing a moment ago… It brought me a lot of memories, really bad memories, ones I truly wanted to forget. You know what it’s like when you associate a certain song with a person or a period of time that was important or troubling for you? You see, this is what happened here. This song reminds me of a person who once was a really big part of my life.” Rhys stopped for a moment to take a deep breath, not wanting to start crying. God, he wished he hadn’t drank so much, it would be much easier or this whole situation wouldn’t even have a place. Jack was surprisingly quiet, listening to him carefully.

“When I was a teenager there was… this girl you know. She, ugh...fuck. Jack, I...loved her.  I was only sixteen or seventeen but with whole meaning of this word I loved her. It’s been a long time since then and I moved on but those memories are still so vivid. Back then I would… I would have fucking died for her, you know.” Rhys squeezed his eyes and tears ran down on his cheeks, but he kept on going, just wanting to get it over with.

“I know how idiotic it sounds, but it’s true. We were quite close but I wouldn’t call it friendship. I think she could have been interested in some way, but she wasn’t sure and I was too shy to do anything about it, so eventually she just got bored.” Rhys laughed bitterly “Like I could blame her.”

“It lasted two years, but hell it felt like much longer. First I cried almost every night, but then it was just this emptiness, you know? I skipped school and drank, laying in my bed all day. It was... Fuck...” Rhys clenched his teeth not to sob, but he failed making a gross sound. All his body was trembling.

Jack pulled him closer, gently putting his arms around him.

“Rhys...” He put so much softness into this word that Rhys couldn’t take it and sobbed even louder, burring his face in the crook of Jacks neck, his tears falling on a ten thousand dollar shirt. Anybody else who’d do that would be probably dead by now.

It was the first time tonight when Jack didn’t call him by any pet name. It was very rare and meant that he was being serious. They stood like that for a moment, Rhys still crying. Jack put his hand into Rhys’ copper locks, stroking them gently and completely ruining other man’s work to smooth them with a small amount of hair pomade. Rhys calmed down a little bit, so he felt strong enough to continue, even though his mind was far from being clear and he started to babble.

“She was my first love, Jack. It’s just… The idea of loving, like actually loving someone else without knowing if it’s even mutual... if they even care... if you care... it’s killing me.” Rhys murmured and only after a few seconds it hit him what he just said. He stiffed under Jack’s touch, being completely terrified and unable to move. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Why did I say that! Dammit, ugh fuck!” he cursed himself in his mind. Jack moved him away lightly to look at him, but Rhys shut his eyes just too scared to breathe out loud.

“Rhys, look at me.” Rhys was totally horrified, but he managed to stay still and slowly opened one eye, seeing Jack’s face and something strange in it.

“Ok, so this is how I die. Fuck, why couldn’t I just be fucking quiet for once in my life? Always having a big mouth, whining like a little bitch and being so emotional, you have to be like that, Rhys, don’t you…”

“I am sorry.”

“What?”

“What?” Rhys gasped, truly surprised.

“I know that I’m not the easiest person to live with, so I’m sorry.” Jack grabbed Rhys’ chin, still looking into his eyes. He sighed, but then smiled weakly.

“The truth is that I care about you, Rhys, way more than I’d like to.” Jack leaned closer, brushing his lips against Rhys’ cheek and ear, pulling him closer. They were both just so fucking drunk that the level of honesty between them was high as never before.

“It’s been a while since I felt something like that towards anybody. So yeah, I kinda get your meaning,” he chuckled, both sadly and teasingly while he rested his chin on Rhys’ shoulder and held him tighter, placing his palm between Rhys’ shoulder blades.

“You...do?”

“Yeah. I said that and I probably won’t repeat it soon, so I want you to remember it well.” Rhys smiled. To be honest, that was more than enough for him.

“Hmm, I love you too, Jackass.”

“That’s a nice one, kiddo.” Jack snorted and for emphasis he cupped Rhys’ face, kissing him gently. It was so different from the kisses they usually shared, lazy and unhurried. Of course Jack couldn’t help himself and a moment later he bit Rhys’ lower lip, but the younger man was so used to that, that he doubted if after meeting Jack he would be able to consider a kiss legit without being bitten. Love was just a bitch, turning decent people into masochists.

They stood like that with no words for a longer while, their noses touching, focused on nothing else but their breaths, when the first sounds of another song came from the inside. It was a slow piece with a deep bass line. Of course the music was playing all the time, but none of them payed attention earlier. Now it was different since they both knew the piece quite well.

Few days ago they rode to Jack’s place after work, both being silent after a quarrel about something stupid. None of them would be adult enough to start a conversation again or apologize, so they just stayed quiet until this song played in the radio. Rhys noted that it was good and Jack agreed. After breaking the ice they could start talking again, putting behind the subject of a quarrel. When they came home Jack downloaded the whole album (why buy things, especially being a millionaire, when you could just be a fucking dick all the time?). All the tracks were good, but this one playing on the radio was still their favorite one. Now it played in the club, but it could be heard well on the balcony.

“You hear it, kitten?”

“Mhm, yeah” Rhys smiled against Jack cheek and slid his hands from other man’s waist onto his ass. Jack hummed, starting to rock hips against Rhys’.

“Nasty as always.”

Jack in response only pulled Rhys hair, exposing his neck. Rhys whined quietly surprised by this sudden move, but then he smiled feeling Jack’s lips on his skin.

“You know what, I claim this song as mine.”

“Wh-what?” Rhys was too absorbed in being kissed in the neck, to get what Jack meant right away.

“Cupcake, focus. The song that is playing right now, I claim it as mine. Or as ours, if you prefer to put it in this way. Like you had it with that chick of yours, thinking about her every time you listened to that song. So with this one, you’ll be thinking about me.” Jack pulled Rhys’ hair even harder, but still rather teasingly than painfully and leaned closer to his ear.

“But you won’t think about how I didn’t care or made you cry alone at night, like that girl. You’ll think about all those times I fucked you good or bought your favorite ice-cream when you were feeling down or watched all twelve seasons of those stupid soap opera you’re so obsessed about so you could talk it through with someone else. And Rhys, it’ll be even better, I promise you that. Starting with tonight. ”

Rhys felt that his face went red, so he was grateful that there were no lights on the balcony and Jack didn’t notice that. Not to mention specific kind of heat building down in his stomach.

Last time Jack showed any kind of thoughtfulness was when he made a smiley face with a clone syrup on Rhys portion of pancakes (ones that Rhys made, to be clear) so it was unexpected for Rhys to hear such a declaration of affection. It was very sweet what he heard and was everything that Rhys wanted to know, to be sure that Jack cared about him in any way.

On the other hand it kinda hurt that Jack used Rhys’ past trauma only to shout “Dibs on you! You belong to me!” not thinking about how Rhys would feel. But it was just Jack being Jack, not taking into account other people’s emotions, something with what Rhys learned to live. The most important thing was that Jack wanted to make Rhys feel better and to be completely honest he did it swell. This thought made Rhys really happy, despite everything else.

He took Jack’s palm into his own and laid a kiss on his knuckles, looking him straight in the eyes.

“Thank you, Jack.”

This action yet so simple, made Jack completely love-struck. He smiled, moving his hand from Rhys’ lips to touch his cheek.

“You’re welcome, Rhys.”

[redlemonz]

Day #7

A weird, partly-lonely sort of vulnerable touch against my soul. This would've been the last time I woke up beside her a week ago, on sick-day Monday. The beginning of the end as the reality struck in; I even messaged my boss it being the honest reason for not coming in that day to work, as if to ensure I am beginning to face my consequences from the very start. The best and worst part at the same time is that she stayed in bed with, and for me. Sick-day Monday became our day rather than mine, once again. Another open representation of something serious she actually did and gave up in order to be with me, and I only found the gratitude because I saw it first hand. I chose to be ignorant of this factor in the past, where I know there's been many a occasion where she's made other sacrifices for me, though just due to my own blindness, and her humble, natural way & unwillingness to actually shove her display of effort in my face, my insecurities formed. I'd constantly blame her for not making enough effort & essentially I'd feel incredibly unwanted as a result - but looking back at it now, yet again, I was a ridiculous idiot. She did make the effort, yet all I kept doing was asking and pushing her to prove her loyalty to me in the relationship, by informing her everything she's doing wrong. So yes, no wonder it would be one of the contributing reasons that she left, was finally exhausted and had enough of this immature behaviour. My insecurities are not a valid enough excuse (and nothing really is, in addition to that) for the way I end up choosing to treat her, and for making her feel like she's not putting in the work and time for me. I didn't see it properly then, but it was a rather fucking low and evil side of me - an eye for an eye essentially, as I ended up behaving in a mannerism that would cause her to feel like she was not doing anything to help this relationship. Which is why I do say now that this whole relationship falling apart was on me. I kept pushing and tugging at her until she finally snapped & figured out she that had been putting up with this for far too long than she deserved. She dedicated so much time and love to me that went by unrecognised.. until it was too late, simply because I was so fixated on the idea that it had to be communicated to be real, and therefore undermined her personality and us as a whole. I attempted to indirectly alter the person I fell in love with to begin with - which is my genuinely significant crime in this regard. She's been nothing short of almost perfect to me, by simply being herself, and along the lines I decided that it wasn't good enough for me & kept asking her to do things to make it all better. Horrific temporary solution obviously, and a mockery to her, considering her brain is twice the size of mine. Her actions always spoke louder than her words, and though I always understood that to an extent, it was never generally sufficient as my greedy soul constantly wished for further recognition. She gave me all the love, care, kindness and friendship that I didn't deserve, and I still took it all for granted. That's not the worst part, believe it or not. The fact that I was so self absorbed and couldn't actually listen to her is what kills me upon reflection. She tried to speak out and I had every opportunity to resolve my personal fuckery but I made things worse and worse over time. I want to take it all back. I wish I could so fucking badly. But hey, that's the way the story goes, right? I wouldn't give me a second chance, let alone what would be the 100th probably given everything she's been through. What a selfish and maniacally twisted human being I was to treat her in that manner at all. She was always so clear to me, and didn't even understand what was wrong - which looking at it now, was nothing but myself. I am an idiot, and I lost the best thing that ever happened to me. She made me feel alive, and gave me a life of wonders that I didn't know existed, to have and be so happy within, and in return I held her down and limited her. What amazes me further is that she's still trying to be my friend & keep me in her life, though I am the ruined and trouble-making asshole of a soul who's caused her enough pain and strife that was never necessary. I'm sorry I failed us, and that it's too late to finally open my eyes. That it took you leaving, for it all to be finally clear. Not knowing what you had until it's gone is an absolute understatement that can't be captured in words enough. I want to go back. Relive our last day over and over, for I love you so much, and wish to finally show you.. I truly do understand. But I can't - the last straw's already been drawn, and you've crossed that bridge without looking back into the shadows from where I kept you. Day 7 - the pit of regrets Brand new week at work. Busy as heck, lots to do. Trying to construct a barrier to surround my mind which won't let the stress seep in.. relaxing, breathing, keeping calm. But the problem also with that barrier, is that my disgruntled thoughts keep reproducing specimens of further crazy, anxious sub thoughts.. for which there's no room. My minds overloading and feeling as though I'm ready to just explode like a cloud full of rain. I suppose that's just an ongoing cycle that has to be, right? Either way, it's a lose-lose situation, and I can't do much about it. Instead, I probably messed it up further again through jeopardising my current positive standings with her. The mission from yesterday has come to fruition, as I took the unfortunate leap that I was afraid to, after debating back and forth a million times with myself in knowing that it's probably a horrific idea - but it's just in my nature to consistently fuck up like this. I even had the assistance of local homie with this mission as aforementioned in day #6.. and I can't use that as an excuse or reasoning for clarification upon my actions. I did this, and I chose to write her address on that postal bag and send it away. I've defied her again - she specifically stated for me to "stop having my fun" after the incident on day #1 with regards to flowers, chocolate and crappy balloon. It's already mortified her and made her feel more stuck than before in this hold, and my word to not do it again means nothing now. Even whilst writing this, I've caused my own heart to unnecessarily race as this - I'm realising in my somewhat hasty and messed up actions that this could be an even bigger mistake and that I'm just a twisted, emotionally manipulative asshole. The only true argument I can offer, is that I truly don't see it as a big deal - it's an extremely simple act of friendship and love without any romantic gesture involved -and is relevant & based on our conversation. My simplistic self genuinely thought as much as - hey, this whole idea could be fun and adventurous, and I'll make a day of it, and with her inspiration, I'll get out and live. So because she was in my heart guiding me on this little spontaneous journey (that's always been the beauty of her style), and as a tribute to our conversation that morning where she noted how she missed this city and the convenience to get to so many beautiful and variable locations, my mission was clear. So I simply provided her with some costless memorabilia from the city that's currently experiencing a highly barren downturn of liveliness with her noticeable absence. Yet again, I have kind intentions however perception, along with my history of bad luck (let's just continue to jinx myself even further than is required with the probable outcome anyway) is likely to be a bitch. Just like me. For going through with this, and breaking my word instead of just giving her space - literally the one apparent thing she's wanted holy shit what in the fuck is wrong with me! I have no grounds to complain. These are once again my own shitty decisions made, and I believe I've just portrayed a prime example of my construed behaviour that I spent forever rambling on about - the fact that I don't listen to her. No wonder I continue to fail her. I need to learn to stop thinking about what could be a nice thing to do and taking it upon myself, and just listen to her. Fuck. Okay so the least I can do is inform her of this in advance.. and face the consequences head on. It's time to start being the man who takes responsibility for his actions and faces the consequences once more. The man she's taught me to be. Courage in tact, I'll tell her to expect something in advance later this evening.. she's gonna hate me isn't she? Likely result. Maybe it'll be for the best, sigh. Why do I ruin everything good by pushing and forcing things to get better. I just don't understand he concept of time passing as well as others because it's just so damn valuable in this short life, which could come to a halt at any unexpected (or planned - no, stay away from those ideas) moment. But I can only hope that my somewhat sensitive thought of this memorabilia to her can still bring even the lightest smile to her face. My heart's most certainly racing against me right now. Probably won't help that I'm attending a coffee tasting session early evening, whoops. As I leave the tasting session, I get straight into it & messaged her- high as a kite after 3 cups of fresh caramel coffee. I'm still feeling the effects now so I'm not too sure if I'll actually be getting any sleep tonight.. at least tonight will be for better reasons though. I digress - the thing went.. well. I was honest and open & got straight to the point basically, and it was much better than I expected. Hurrah!! The worst of it was getting some salty bitmojis - which was supposedly also an opportunistic moment for her to utilise them due to being a way too nice & polite person on a regular basis. Even now. But no woe is me - it made my evening to have a small chat with her again. Though I'm gone, I'm not being forgotten. Positive vibes for sure - and I can definitely use that as a reason to smile. What is even happening though - I don't deserve any of this niceness at all. Oh dear, it's happening - I feel as though I should be hurting more or being punished & going as insane as prior days.. but I'm not. My mind is once again telling me that I'm a piece of shit who shouldn't be feeling good about myself or anything, because I'm a bad and selfish human being.. which I am constantly displaying on a regular basis. One massive hypocritical fuck who's got good intentions but won't listen to the ways in which he can actually cause goodness to flow. Reminds me of our debate regarding human beings and their flaws, at their core of their creation, which in turn identify them as that very species. We really do overthink and over complicate life's simplicities often - especially when it comes to interacting with each other.. miscommunication, misunderstanding and misperceptions probably cause most of the world's general issues. She said to me the other day actually, which impressed the heck out of me (shocking, I know - this whole damn thing is pretty much a shrine for her by now, isn't it) that she tries to this beautiful human who acts as if she were a deaf man - in terms of not being influenced or manipulated by other's judgements, perception and ideas. And she's right - she doesn't even have to try very much at all, as it is an inbuilt virtue which is incredibly natural in the same instance, more so than the majority of people - that she can actually think for herself. Her own ideas, principles and judgements - she's the sheep who takes her own path contrary to what the rest of the herd does. Logical, factual, intellectual - the attractiveness is through the barnyard roof when someone doesn't participate in the Chinese whispers of society and people. It really is so much more refreshing to connect with someone on that particular level. No wonder she's so special, more so to me than in a romantic or friendly way necessarily - but as a human soul, which shines bright and captures my soul. But also, she's not that bad on the eyes either. Okay, she's awesome. And she's also supposedly a culinary master chef tonight, whipping up some fish with white wine. What a lady. It's been one week now.. and though I miss our wonderful weekend (+sick day monday) together - I'm still delighted about our unique bond that we share being in tact. Also I have another coffee tasting session tomorrow.