#anyways this was less embarrassing than I expected I’ve been listening to fun cool music recently | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fancifulwhump · 4 years

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so, the bad news is, i’ve fallen completely in love with a show about a band full of ghost boys?? julie and the phantoms is such a fun show --- the characters are incredible, the music is brilliant, and it has some unexpected whumpy gem moments, too!!

this idea has been a worm in my brain since the first episode ; basically, the band has a habit of eating questionable food from alleys and out of the back of trucks, which comes back to bite them big time. i figured, there’s no way that’s the first time they’ve ever gotten food poisoning... so, this fic was born. i really had to get it out of my system, y’all.

if anyone wants more j.atp whump content in the future, i’ll happily provide!

a case of food poisoning : reggie, alex, luke, and bobby / j.atp ; 6000+ words ( nausea, vomiting, emeto )

Things don’t start feeling weird — for Reggie, at least — until they’re all piled into Bobby’s beat-up van, on their way back from a gig.

Those tacos aren’t sitting right. That’s all he can think, because they really haven’t settled since they went down. It’s been an hour since the four of them crowded around that alleyway food truck, shelling out a fraction of their latest pay for the nearest thing that could be called dinner. No one’s accusing street food of being gourmet... but for four kids living on band wages, plus what little Bobby and Alex made from their part-time jobs, it’s a godsend. Cheap, tasty, and usually not poisonous. Who could ask for anything more?

Tacos have always been Reggie’s favorite... but as the van rattles down the road, jostling its occupants with every pothole, he’s starting to regret going in for that second helping. Or the third.

Or, let’s be honest, the fourth. The fourth might’ve done him in.

Still, he shouldn’t be feeling like this. His friends tease him all the time — for such a skinny guy, Reggie can finish a whole pizza by himself, and put away a steak in under five minutes. It’s a talent, really. He’s always been able to eat without having to worry about the consequences — eating itself is its own pleasure, when dinners at home consist of “whatever’s left over” way too frequently. He doesn’t really... get full.

The longer the tacos sit inside of him, though, the heavier he feels. His stomach is tight against his belt, swelling out slightly beneath his dark t-shirt. If unbuttoning his pants were an option, he’d probably do it, just to have some room to breathe. Doing it here isn’t an option, though — not with Luke pressed up next to him, and Bobby and Alex in the front seats. He’d elbow his best friend in the face if he tried, and probably be noticed before then.

Reggie’s just got to grin and bear it... at least, until they get back to the studio.

“Great work tonight, boys,” Luke declares, leaning towards the front of the van. An arm suddenly loops around Reggie’s shoulders. The impact jars him, sending his stomach into a split-second free fall. If Luke notices the uncharacteristic tension in Reggie’s shoulders, he doesn’t let on, doesn’t even look at him. “I can hear record agents knocking on our door already!”

“You mean, the door to Bobby’s garage, where we all basically live?” Alex replies. “Wow, yeah. They’re going to be impressed.”

“Who gave them our address?” Bobby adds from behind the wheel. “They better not show up on Tuesday, my mom hosts crochet club.”

Luke’s shoulders shake; his smile is so bright, it’s practically luminescent in the dark. Reggie gets sucked into it for a moment before catching himself staring. With a thick swallow, he turns his head away. How can Luke have so much energy, when Reggie feels like he’s been hung out to dry? (Maybe off the back of a pick-up truck, and run over a few times for good measure.)

But silence isn’t like him, and of course Luke notices. He sends an elbow into his ribs — not enough to hurt, but an unpleasant gurgle ripples through his full stomach anyways. Reggie can’t help the arm that comes up to cradle his gut, or the way he hunches over, despite that only making the pressure worse. Anyone looking at him could tell something’s off — and with that realization, can’t worry them, can’t be a downer — he turns with a bright, forced grin.

“Just thinking about how on fire we were! Did you see those babes at the front table? They were checking me out the entire show, I’m telling you.”

Luke chuckles. That’s more like him, and it pushes any suspicion firmly off his shoulders. Able to breathe a sigh of relief, Reggie slowly eases himself back. It does feel a little better to be sitting — and looks less weird, too, even when a hand comes up to massage his stomach.

Yeah, he’s definitely bloated. His gut gurgles uncomfortably beneath his palm, loud enough to fill the rest of the car — but with the radio blasting, it’s mostly drowned out. The longer he sits back, the more the pressure in his stomach increases. He’s gone from feeling full to swollen. Even as he tries to massage the discomfort out, the heavy feeling only gets worse.

They hit another pothole, jostling the car. Reggie lurches forwards. Unwillingly, a loud burp slips past his lips.

“Dude,” Luke exclaims, smacking him on the back.

“Really, Reggie? In my car?” says Bobby from the front.

Blindsided, Reggie shrinks back in his seat, pressing a fist to his lips. His face feels hot. Actually, every part of him feels hot; suddenly, his trademark leather jacket is heavy, oppressive instead of familiar. His t-shirt clings to his skin — when did he start sweating? — and all the added sensation does absolutely nothing to soothe his swollen stomach. There’s no reason to be embarrassed with his friends, his band, but…

Talk about not sitting right. That burp came out of nowhere, taking him from full to queasy.

“Sorry,” Reggie mutters, too low for anyone else to hear. One hand comes up to cup his stomach again — gently this time, just in case. His stomach flips, and he can’t help wincing. It’s useless to put up any mask, no more pretense that he’s feeling fine… anyone who looks his way could definitely tell something’s up.

Thankfully, his friends aren’t looking. Bobby’s focused on the road, while Luke’s busy chattering to the front seats. Alex’s eyes are closed, forehead pressed against the glass window; no matter how the van rattles, it doesn’t jar him. Reggie admires his fortitude, because every time they hit a pothole, his stomach leaps into his throat.

Maybe… maybe something was wrong with those tacos. The thought occurs to him like a revelation — one of those awful ones you don’t really want to consider, so you put off ‘til the last minute, like we have a pop quiz in calculus today, or that mole probably isn’t normal. There’s just no way all this churning in his gut is just from indigestion, though. Unease nags at him, the heady flavor of the tacos still lingering in his mouth. They haven’t ever tasted like that before.

To be fair, it’s street food. What do you expect? Of course it’s going to taste a little gnarly.

But the tacos — just thinking of them makes his stomach lurch. A low gurgle ripples through his core, and Reggie hunches in on himself, both arms around his stomach. By turning towards the window, he’s able to create a barrier between himself and the rest of the car. No one needs to see the way he’s sweating, or clutching his belly like it’s on fire. No one needs to worry about him.

Another burp forces its way up his throat. Reggie swallows it back, leaning his head against the cool glass window, and just tries to rest.

It’s no use. The longer he puts it off, the more the nausea grows. His stomach does cartwheels with every bump in the road. There are a few scary moments where he’s sure he’ll have to shout for Bobby to pull over… but they pass, and Reggie is left a little paler than before, breathing a little heavier.

By the time they pull into Bobby’s driveway, he could almost cry with relief.

Luke is the first one out, smacking Reggie’s shoulder again on the way out the door. Alex follows at a more sedate pace; his energy always lags late at night, but something about the way he’s moving seems weird. Off somehow… careful. Reggie’s so focused on watching Alex’s stiff descent from the car, that he doesn’t even realize he hasn’t moved at all… until a sudden rap on the window startled him.

Bobby’s peering in at him through the dirty glass. Sheepish, Reggie opens the door, and slides out of the van.

As soon as he’s standing, his stomach protests. A wave of nausea rolls through him, serenaded by another angry gurgle. There’s no missing this one, and no distraction from it. Reggie slumps against the van door with a breathless huff; immediately, Bobby’s at his side, gripping his forearm to keep him upright.

“Whoa, dude — you look awful.”

“Thanks, Bobby,” Reggie grits out. “You’re gorgeous as ever.”

Actually, Bobby looks… serious. Dead serious, even more than usual. His eyes are pitch black, taking in Reggie from head to toe; when his brows furrow, he looks worried, but not surprised.

“Don’t tell me,” he says. “It’s your stomach?”

If Reggie opens his mouth, he seriously might hurl; his only reply is a stiff nod.

“Shit.” Bobby drags a hand through his hair, then slams it against the driver’s window. Reggie watches, with a distant sort of fascination, as he walks a full circle around the side of the car, shaking his head. “I knew something was up. Those tacos tasted weird from the start.”

“Maybe we should’ve listened to Luke and gone with street dogs.” Reggie lurches, a sudden hiccup surprising him: hastily, he presses a hand over his mouth, avoiding Bobby’s gaze.

“Alex’s stomach was grumbling like crazy in the car — I could hear it over the music. Over Luke.” When Bobby looks back, his lips are pressed in a grim line. “And I’m not feeling so hot either, man.”

“Great,” mutters Reggie, shaking his head. “Just fantastic.”

Figures, they’d all get hit with something gnarly at the same time — Sunset Curve is a brotherhood, after all. Even if that means puking their guts out in the same tiny garage bathroom —

Well, okay, Bobby lives here. He’s got a whole house, and a bathroom all to himself. Lucky dude.

Reggie doesn’t realize he’s started swaying until Bobby’s suddenly right beside him, instead of a few feet away. This close, Reggie can tell his friend’s a shade paler than normal… but it would be easy to write off, with how concerned Bobby looks. Concerned over what? Over him? Reggie tries to straighten up, but a sudden cramp of his stomach convinces him that’s not a good idea.

“Come on, man,” Bobby says quietly. “Let’s get inside. You need to lie down or something.”

“I need to —“ Reggie cuts himself off with a deep, queasy belch. A fist flies to his mouth automatically; he can’t help moaning. “Shit. Sorry, that’s — gross. I feel really gross. Really weird, Bobby.”

“I know, man.” Bobby tucks an arm around his shoulders; Reggie’s grateful, because suddenly, he’s not sure he could walk on his own. As he slumps into his bandmate, Bobby takes on most of his weight without even a murmur. “I’ve got you. Come on.”

They make it into the garage without incident. It’s no surprise to find Luke and Alex already settled in — as settled as Luke can get after a show, anyways. He rides the adrenaline of a great show until the very end, and can never rest until it’s all burnt out. Usually this means finding him passed out somewhere that isn’t the air mattress, and waking up with a crick in his back the next morning… but Luke is Luke, and he never changes.

Alex is curled up on the couch, hugging a pillow; his head lolls, distant gaze focused on a crack in the wall. Luke, on the other hand, is a ball of energy. He hops around the studio on the balls of his feet, deftly avoiding stray wires and lumps in the carpet. He’s got his songbook in one hand, and a guitar pick in the other.

“That riff in the middle of Get Lost — where’d you even come up with that, Bobby, it was genius! And, and Alex, when the rhythm picked up —“

“I thought I was a little off in the first number.” Even Alex’s voice sounds listless.

“No, man, you were great.” Luke pauses just long enough to rub a hand over his face, bouncing on his heels like a boxer in the ring. When he drags his hand back through his hair, Reggie notices a sheen of sweat on his brow. The garage is actually pretty chilly in mid-January; there’s no good excuse.

Bobby leads him over to the couch, and Reggie practically collapses onto it. When Alex turns, his dull eyes spark to life with alarm. “God, Reg,” he hisses, immediately pressing a hand to his clammy forehead. “You look like a wreck!”

“We’ve got a problem,” Bobby tells him.

Alex meets his gaze, and understanding dawns. His face falls, eyes going wide.

Reggie can only contribute a hiccup.

“Oh, come on,” Alex mutters, pulling his pillow tighter against his stomach. “We had to get food out of a shady cart, couldn’t just stop at a diner or something…”

“The cart was, like, right there.”

“Yeah, sitting there suspiciously!”

A loud, long gurgle emanates from Alex’s side of the couch — yeah, okay, Reggie definitely heard that one. He hunches forward, grimacing; whatever color the revelation leant to his face, it just as quickly drains away.

“Boys,” says Luke, suddenly sounding uneasy. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“There’s no point blaming anyone,” Reggie insists, looking between Alex and Bobby. “Except the guy who sold us the tacos, right?”

“I don’t think we can sue, Reg,” says Bobby.

“He shouldn’t be in business selling stuff that’s literally poisoning people,” insists Alex, burying his face in both hands. “We can definitely report him. That’s got to be an option, right?”

“Oh, sure. If we all make it through the night.”

“You guys…” Luke cuts in again, and there’s a tremor to his voice.

Finally, Reggie looks up — just in time to see the last bit of color drain from Luke’s cheeks. He’s left chalk-white, a stricken look on his face, caught somewhere between uncertainty and fear. Slowly, a hand drifts to his stomach. “Um,” he says, and sways a little. “You guys don’t —“

He doesn’t get the chance to finish. An indescribable sound bursts out of him — less a gag, more like choking on his own stomach. Luke lurches forward, a hand clamped to his mouth.

“Shit,” Bobby exclaims, springing to his feet. “Oh, shit!”

Luke stumbles back, waving Bobby off with one hand. The other remains clasped against his lips, holding whatever it can back; for a moment, Luke just sways, eyes squeezing shut as his stomach continues to moan and roil. Each breath comes heavy through his nose; each exhale is perilous. When he finally straightens back up, he’s gone completely colorless, a sheen of sweat on his brow.

“Ah, man,” he mutters, trembling.

Alex is on his feet now too, and takes a cautious step forward. “Luke,” he says softly. “You okay?”

“I was… a minute ago, I was —“ Luke cuts himself off, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth again. He swallows something back, then shakes his head. “I’m okay. Gonna be okay.”

Somehow, this isn’t convincing. Alex hesitates, arm still outstretched. “Are you sure?”

Luke opens his mouth to reply; instead, he lurches forward with a strangled noise, and a rush of vomit spills down his shirt.

“Shit!” Bobby exclaims again, emphasizing each syllable.

Luke’s last wave of energy hits him all at once. Suddenly, he’s sprinting; he clears the coffee table like a track-and-fielder in the Olympics, leaps clean over stacks of boxes and duffle bags, before vanishing into the bathroom. The door slams shut being him.

This doesn’t matter; the walls are like paper here. They can still hear the gagging, the cursing, the whimpers — even without the privilege of seeing it.

“Well,” Alex says, glancing between his remaining bandmates with a grim smile. “Looks like we’re in for a fun night.”

From inside the bathroom, a long moan agrees with him.

----------

It’s around midnight by the time Reggie finally loses his dinner. By then, Bobby has retreated to the privacy of his house. Luke is firmly camped out in the bathroom, with no signs of dragging himself out any time soon. Reggie ends up stumbling outside, on his hands and knees in the patch of dirt behind the old garage building; it’s hardly the classiest place to do it, but he can’t just march up to Bobby’s front door, push past his parents, and hurl all over their new porcelain flooring.

Alex lingers nearby, shivering in the chilly night air. He rubs Reggie’s back through the worst of it, muttering the same soothing platitudes all moms like to whip out when their kids are sick; Reggie murmurs something along those lines around a mouthful of acid, and isn’t surprised when Alex cuffs him in the head.

“If I’m your mom, you were an accident.”

Reggie snorts, scrubbing tear-stained cheeks with his flannel’s sleeve. “Pretty sure I actually was.”

Probably too dark, but Alex doesn’t say so; he just helps Reggie stand, a reassuringly steady presence when Reggie can barely find his own feet. Together, they make their way back inside the garage. From the bathroom, Luke’s suffering is still ringing out in vivid technicolor — Reggie’s learned curses tonight his dad doesn’t even know. Alex’s worried gaze flickers across the studio as another moan rings out; he lowers Reggie onto the couch, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, before pulling away.

“I gotta go check on Luke.”

Reggie tracks his friend’s movements across the garage, not missing the way Alex stumbles across his own feet. Now that he’s not supporting anyone else’s weight, it’s obvious what a task it is to carry his own. He’s ghost pale, still shivering despite having come in from the cold, half-shrunken into his baggy hoodie. His brows are drawn tight together, the way they tend to when he’s fighting off a wave of worry… but it’s clearly more than that, given the shadow of queasiness haunting his face. He looks like he’s about to fall over… and if he does, he’s screwed, because Reggie doesn’t have the strength to go over there and pick him up.

“You need to rest, Alex,” he says, uncharacteristically solemn.

Alex glances back at him; there’s no life in his dull eyes, no gleam of fondness or frustration. He only looks exhausted.

“I don’t think any of us are getting much rest tonight,” he replies. When his lips twist, it can barely be called a smile. “Try to get some yourself, Reg. It’ll help.”

To his credit, Reggie tries. He leans back against the couch, letting his eyes drift shut. A low knock rings out, followed by Luke’s answering moan; Alex cracks the door open and mutters something too low for Reggie to hear. There’s quiet for a moment, then the sound of another gag. The bathroom door clicks shut; Reggie doesn’t have the energy to look up to see whether Alex is in or out.

His own stomach, at the very least, doesn’t care. It gives a sudden twist, and a low snarling noise rings out; Reggie can feel it, like his stomach’s tying itself in knots inside of him, just expecting him to deal with it. The pain is another thing — probably the worst thing, if the nausea wasn’t so overwhelming. It comes in waves, but when it comes — well —

He’s left doubled in on himself, breath coming in short gasps as he clutches his stomach with both hands. It’s all he can do to breathe; each cramp spasms through him, making his body distort and gut groan with fury. Reggie groans too, from the agony of it all — and the realization that, even having just ditched the remains of the tacos outside, they're not finished with him yet.

What could he have left to throw up? Jesus, it felt like he was coughing up his soul out there.

“I’m okay, I can walk on my own — geez, Alex, really. Don’t…”

“You think I want to get close to you? You smell like something died.”

Luke’s voice is hoarser than the time he blew it out practicing for the school talent show, but he manages a chuckle anyway. “So you wouldn’t kiss me if I asked?”

Alex snorts too. “Not even if you paid me.”

Reggie can’t see them, but he can imagine Luke’s careful, wobbling steps — the way he holds himself up by stubbornness alone, one arm still looped around his stomach. Alex lingers at his side the way he always does, ready to help the second it’s needed… only when the chair springs creak, and Luke lets out a low sigh, does Alex finally let himself sit down as well.

“That took everything outta me,” Luke mutters, voice muffled by the hands pressed to his face, “Literally. I feel dizzy, man.”

“Drink some water.”

“No way, my stomach…”

“Luke, you need to. You just hurled up all the water in your body.”

“It’s not gonna stay down.”

“Then it comes up. At least it’s something.”

There’s a long moment of silence before a water bottle crackles in Luke’s unsteady grip. He takes a few shallow gulps before setting it aside; leaning his head back, he brings one hand to his stomach, where it hovers uncertainly for a moment. “Okay,” he finally says, and gives a weak hiccup. “I think — I think we’re good.”

“Okay.” Alex heaves a heavy sigh, and settles back, finally.

For a little while, there’s only silence. Luke’s allowed his eyes to shut, while Alex has slumped against the side of the chair, head pillowed on his arm. They’re all drifting. Every few minutes, the quiet will be broken by someone’s stomach gurgling, or an uncomfortable huff, but for the most part… no one dares break the tenuous peace that’s settled over the garage.

At least, not until his stomach seizes up with another cramp, and Reggie can’t help whimpering.

Alex stirs. His eyes are glassy, face colorless. “Reg?” he mutters. “What’s — what’s wrong?”

Except it’s far beyond Reggie’s ability to answer at this point; the pain is too great to even try. He just curls in on himself, clawing at his stomach with both hands as if that alone can stop the pain. It convulses once, and he sees red; his entire body is on fire, burning him up from the inside out, and he can’t take it anymore, he really can’t…

“Hurts,” he gasps, and a moan follows when another cramp rips through him. “Hurts so bad…”

Alex stares at him for a long moment, as if he can’t comprehend what he’s seeing. At what point it sets in, it's impossible to say… but suddenly he’s pushing himself up on unsteady legs, gripping the side of the chair for balance.

Reggie’s eyes widen at the way he sways. For half a second, his own pain is forgotten. “Alex, you —“

Alex just waves him off. Instead of stumbling towards Reggie, he turns on his heel — making his way back, instead, to the mini-fridge plugged in at the back of the room. Another cramp momentarily blinds Reggie, forcing him to curl back in on himself. He can’t follow Alex’s journey, or even worry whether he’ll make it there in one piece. By the time the pain grows dull again, Alex is shuffling back towards him, a fresh water bottle in hand.

“Dude,” Reggie groans. “I can’t. I’ll die.”

“You have to, Reg.” Alex’s voice is small, between labored breaths. “There’s nothing — nothing in your stomach. It’ll help the pain.”

“You don’t know that, it could make it worse —“

“Reggie.” Alex is right by his side now, bent low to look at him… and his eyes are gentle. Soft in that classic Alex way, the trust me way, the it’s going to be okay, I promise way. He’s always the same — always means so well — and he’d do anything for anybody else, if it just meant they didn’t have to suffer.

Forget mom; sometimes, Reggie looks at Alex and thinks, “Yeah, this is what a big brother’s supposed to be.” Of course, Alex would know. He has a little sister he’s not even allowed to see anymore, not since his parents kicked him out. That’s got to kill him every day... Reggie can’t even imagine.

One thing’s for sure: he trusts Alex more than anyone else in the world (except the rest of the band).

He’d trust him with his life.

And, as Reggie takes the water bottle with shaking hands, he feels like he’s doing exactly that.

One sip goes down, then another — and he’s so thirsty that Alex has to gently guide the bottle away from his lips after the fourth gulp, reminding him not to overdo it. Reggie answers with a sick burp, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth. For a moment they wait, anticipation heavy as a curtain over them both… but nothing happens. The water stays down, and by some miracle, Reggie’s stomach doesn’t cramp up again.

He’s too caught up in his own relief. Reggie doesn’t even notice Alex making his way back across the room — until a sudden noise, a wet gurgle, jars his attention up.

Alex is braced against the ladder leading up to the loft; he’s stopped there, because he can’t take another step. Head bent, his entire body shudders with a suppressed gag; as he chokes on it, the muscles in his arm strain with the force of holding him up. Something gurgles in his throat again, and he lurches forward, nearly hitting his knees on the concrete floor.

“Oh, man,” Reggie mutters, right before Alex loses it.

All over the floor.

Bobby’s gonna kill them, if the food poisoning doesn’t first.

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

They’re all sick, and they’re tired, and then they’re sick again… the cycle becomes predictable after a while. Reggie can’t say how many hours pass, or exactly how many times he has to sprint for the bathroom — only that he’s exhausted by the time dawn begins to break through the garage windows.

Maybe Reggie dozes for a while... it’s hard to tell. Getting any rest is its own fever dream, when his stomach’s in knots, sending bolts of pain shooting through him every few minutes. Distantly, he hears himself groaning, feels his arms wrap around his own stomach tighter, but he’s too exhausted to care.

He does feel it when another body settles in beside him — feels it clear as day, when a pressure against his spine forces him to ease back, and a set of hands pawing at his middle breaks his vice grip.

“Easy, Reg,” a very familiar voice murmurs, just over his shoulder. “Try to relax a bit.”

“Hurts...” Reggie manages, before another brutal cramp ricochets through his core, sending him curling in on himself all over again. His companion won’t have it, though. They force him to settle, easing him back against their shoulder... and the next thing Reggie knows, there’s a hand on his stomach, pressing into the worst of the pain.

At first, he groans; then, he sighs. It feels good, better than he dared hope for — finally, pressure against the worst cramps, easing them out before they can ripple through him completely. His stomach gives a wet, angry growl, and he can’t help whimpering as it turns over on itself... but the person at his back hushes him. A hand runs through his sweat-damp hair, trimmed fingernails grazing his scalp, and Reggie’s brain almost whites out at how good the tiny bit of comfort feels.

“You need your strength, okay? So you’ve gotta rest.” A pause, and then, from a distance, “He’s really getting hit hard, guys. I think he might have a fever, too.”

“He ate more than us,” someone else says.

“Man, he looks rough...” That sympathetic tone is definitely Luke.

When he forces his eyes open, after what seems like ages, Reggie finds himself surrounded by familiar faces. Their assessment isn’t really fair — none of the boys are looking great tonight. Luke, curled up on the floor, has slumped against the beanbag chair rather than sitting in it. Wisely, he’s lost his ruined shirt; now he sits hunched forward, both arms around his churning stomach. Every now and then, he’ll wince, and breathe out slowly; when his shoulders jolt with a spare hiccup, he presses his lips together until they turn white. Alex, having commandeered the other chair, looks completely washed out. There’s no color in his face, gone gray like sour milk; he’s got a bucket in his lap, wrapped tightly around it, and though he hiccups every so often, doesn’t seem like he’s had to use it. It takes Reggie a moment to realize that whoever’s got his head cradled in their lap smells like cheap mall cologne, and that the hands are calloused in the exact same places Bobby’s are. A low gurgle emanates from close to his ear, drawing his gaze up. Bobby wears a grimace of discomfort, his face nearly as pale as Alex’s... but when he notices Reggie coherent, he looks down, and smiles.

“Hey, man. How you feeling?”

“N- never better.” Reggie tries to return the gesture, but a curdle of his stomach eagerly contradicts him.

“You’re gonna be fine, okay?” Bobby’s hand runs through his hair again; Reggie’s eyes flutter without his consent. “We've just got to get through the worst of it.”

“Everybody’s sick…” As his brows slowly draw together, Reggie’s attention flickers around the rest of the group. “How’re you guys doing? Alex…”

Alex shakes his head, muffling a hiccup into his fist. “I’m fine, Reg. Don’t even worry.”

“Yeah, we’re breezing through this.” Luke tried to offer him an “ok” gesture — but another cramp sends him leaning back against the chair, one hand pressing hard against his stomach. His face contorts in pain, and Reggie has to turn away, burying his face against Bobby’s leg.

It takes him a moment to find any kind of humor in this situation at all… but, being Reggie, that’s just his way. His shoulders shake with a weak chuckle. “Guess this is… the last time we go for street tacos, huh?”

Alex groans. “Not likely. I’m pretty sure we’re gonna keep eating street food until we make it big, or they literally kill us.”

Reggie scoffs. “Food poisoning’s not gonna take us out.”

“Really? Cause I feel like I’m dying.”

“If we were dying, trust me —“ Luke’s stomach gurgles, tensing his entire body up. “We’d know.”

Even something as simple as talking drains him. Reggie lets his eyes drift shut again, relishing the warmth of Bobby’s lap, and the solidness of his presence. It’s great to have Bobby back. Out of all of them, he’s clearly been hit the lightest… thank god someone’s still standing, otherwise they all might really be down for the count.

When his stomach gurgles again, Reggie tenses up. He jolts with a hiccup, then a tiny moan. As his hands curl into fists, ragged fingernails dig into his palms; he relishes the small amount of pain as a distraction from the overwhelming lion’s share.

“My stomach hurts so bad,” he murmurs. Bobby continues to stroke his head, even as Reggie goes progressively more tense. With his next exhale, a splash of something acidic rushes up his throat. He lurches, and tries to swallow it — but it’s in his nose, he can’t breathe, and the next shudder only brings more of it up. A hand clamps over his mouth as he scrambles into a sitting position, but he only makes it halfway. Utterly drained, he collapses sideways once again, falling in Bobby’s lap as his mouth floods with sick.

There’s only time for Bobby to direct him forward. Reggie lurches over his knees, vomit already spilling past his lips. Rather than hit the floor — or worse, Bobby’s shoes — the bucket is there waiting for him.

As soon as Reggie gets a hold on the bucket, he doubles forward, practically wrapping himself around it. It rips through every muscle, every nerve. Mouthfuls of acid and bile are forced up with every heave, from the deepest part of his stomach. Reggie shudders. He belches up a splash of something nasty, enduring a spare gag as it ripples through him. When he’s finally able to catch his breath, he knows, just knows, every eye is on him.

“I hate this,” he pants, slowly lifting his head. “This is literally — huUurp — the worst.”

“That sure was,” Luke mutters; based on his offended yelp a second later, someone probably threw a water bottle at him.

“You’re gonna be fine,” Bobby says again, massaging gentle circles into his back. Alex’s calloused band sweeps across his forehead, brushing back Reggie’s unruly hair. Sweat plasters raven strands to his forehead, but with the gentle pressure of his friend’s hand, a bit of the pain goes with it.

“Yeah,” Alex says after a moment. “He’s definitely got a fever. Should we… be concerned?”

“I don’t know.” Bobby’s voice is hoarse, though that could be from worry or a night spent hurling his guts up — hard to say. “He was keeping water down for a little while, but… if he gets any worse, we might have to take him to the —“

“No hospital!”

It’s the most energy Reggie has had all night, and just about scares the hell out of his friends. His hand suddenly lashes up to grip Bobby’s shoulder in a vice grip; when he lifts his head, his eyes are very wide, very earnest. “Hospital isn’t gonna help. It… costs too much money.”

His parents are already fighting over the bills 24/7 — fighting over everything, fighting over him. The last thing Reggie needs it to give them a reason. He won’t do that, he won’t —

“No hospital,” he says again, and Alex hastily nods.

“Okay, Reg. You got it. No hospitals.”

He’s not sure whether to believe them, when he catches the wary glance Bobby and Alex exchange over his head… but Reggie is eager to chase away the horrible, anxious feeling, in exchange for the warm comfort of moments before. If he could just wrap himself up in that, instead of the thought of his parents screaming at each other over his hospital bed…

Yeah.

He’d like that a lot.

Just… safety, warmth, and quiet.

And maybe some water to wash this taste out of his mouth.

Alex scrambles to oblige him as soon as he asks. Reggie takes a swig, swishes it around in his mouth, and tentatively swallows it. The water settles — for now — which is the best he can ask for.

“I don’t want to be sick again,” he admits quietly, after a long moment of simply… laying there, staring back and forth.

Luke chuckles, dragging a hand through his hair. “Join the club.”

“I haven’t puked for a few hours now,” says Bobby. “I think… I might be done?”

Alex’s stomach lets out a loud gurgle, and he groans. “Ooh, I’m not.”

It wasn’t the worst night of his life, and that’s really saying something… but as the morning grows brighter, flooding the garage with sunlight, Reggie sighs and curls into his friend’s lap. Things could be worse. They could be a lot worse.

At least they’re walking through hell holding hands. Whatever Sunset Curve does, they do together… and that includes food poisoning, apparently.

Reggie can live with that, if it means his friends are with him through it all.

(His fever doesn’t break until that afternoon, and Reggie can still taste rancid taco meat a week later. The band takes days to recover completely. If they could say the experience turned them off street food for life, they’d be better off for it.

A few months later, Reggie finishes the last of his hot dog, and has just enough time to think, that definitely tasted funny, before his stomach twists.

Some people really never learn.)

#emeto #emetophilia #whump #sickfic #vomiting #nausea #food poisoning #fics: julieatp

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writhingcreature · 4 years

Text

Breathe ~ the Doctor (part 3)

A/n: Sorry that I’m fixating on this series I just? I love this idea a lot lol. Also, I know I posted this on the wrong account but it would literally be like an extra half hour of work to fix this and I am not in the MOOD so I hope y’all can forgive my idiocy lmao

Word Count: 9100+

MASTERLIST

"What are you laughing at?" Y/n demanded, his face going red at Rose's giggles which had not stopped since Y/n had walked in the room.

The blonde shook her head, thoroughly amused it seemed. "You've been around the Doctor too much!" She accused. "Since when do you wear white button up shirts? Long sleeves and collar and all."

Y/n seemed suddenly defensive. "I like it, and I made it my own. See, no jacket, and I roll my sleeves up! With a nice vest, I could pass as a business man at the end of the day, or a farmer, or whatever." He sighed, allowing himself a smile. "Everywhere we go is never we expect to be. How many times have you gone running about in something not fitting for the time we turn up at? No matter where we go, the Doctor always fits in. I thought maybe taking after him would do me some good." He shrugged. "Makes me feel more professional too."

Rose gave a short chuckle once more before letting a long breath out as she looped her arm with Y/n. Y/n didn't know what Casandra had done to their little group, but ever since the trio had parted in that hallway when Y/n had stayed behind with Chip, things had been very different between him, Rose, and the Doctor. Y/n and the Doctor had long since stopped correcting people when they were called a couple. The Doctor and Rose as well. Y/n and Rose though... they'd been friends so long. Two people teetering on an edge they both tried not to fall over, thinking the other person didn't care at all. Yet here they were, secretly in love with each other this whole time. What a pair of fools.

"Well you look good in it, I won't lie. Especially with the sleeves rolled up," Rose complimented.

Y/n looked at her, his face colored with amusement but also embarrassment at her kind words. "What is it with men wearing collared button ups, sleeves rolled up, that does it for so many people?"

Shrugging was as much of an answer as Y/n got from Rose, because just then the pair arrived back in the main controls room. Where they were within earshot of the Doctor. The man turned around when they entered, and stopped short when he saw Y/n. "Well you look..." Y/n blushed even harder and Rose looked between the two men before scoffing.

"Oh, you two. Tell him he looks nice Doctor, you look silly like that, not saying how you feel when everyone knows what you're thinking anyway."

The Doctor cleared his throat. "You look very nice, Y/n."

"Thank you, Doctor," Y/n replied.

Rose dropped his arm, moving further into the room to divert attention from the sudden awkwardness. It really didn't make sense. The Doctor had been romantically involved plenty of times, Y/n knew that for fact. Speaking of, Y/n had as well. The Doctor had even been married and had children. That had been ages though... perhaps he was rusty when it came to romance. Maybe it was just Y/n, who was far less experienced and completely clueless how to treat a situation where the rules were not as clear as the feelings they had for each other. They had all this energy, but no idea how to utilize it. Rose, as usual, was the one who seemed to be able to handle it. Perhaps it was that she'd been in several serious relationships, but she always directed that unspoken energy in the right direction, then let it go when it was time. She had perfect timing, actually. It was rather impressive.

"What about my outfit, Doctor? Do you think it'll do?" She asked casually.

As always, the Doctor took the opportunity to change the subject. Y/n wondered passively if things between them would have really gone anywhere without Rose. God, what would they do without her? "The late 1970's?" The Doctor thought aloud, returning Y/n's mind to what was happening now. "You'd be better off in a bin bag. Hold on, listen to this," he added in a rush to cover his rather rude comment.

Rock music began playing suddenly, and everyone's attention turned to that. "I've heard this before. My mum used to listen to it."

Rose looked at Y/n in surprise, but the Doctor knew what it meant to far too casually bring up people one had lost and not want it looked at further, so he was the one who continued the conversation to other things this time. "Ian Dury and the Blockheads," he said with a grin. "Number on in 1979! Your mum had a popular taste, Y/n."

At that Rose got rather bright, her smile so wide that you could hear it when she spoke. "You're a punk!" The Doctor began to sing, and Y/n joined him, both of them grinning at each other as they had their fun with the music. "You both are, I can't believe it. A pair of punks. You, Doctor, are specifically some old punk with a bit of rockabilly thrown in."

"Do you want to go see him?" The Doctor asked, enjoying the banter.

Leaning against one of the rails, Y/n watched the two in quiet amusement as he often did with them. They talked too much for Y/n to keep up with. He was usually at a slower pace than them, and he preferred to watch them go at it anyway. "How do you mean?" Rose asked. "In concert?"

"Well what else is the TARDIS for?" The Doctor pointed out. "Also, Y/n, don't just stand there. You need to be watching me I said, you have to learn what I'm doing and then I'll teach you why I'm doing it and what everything means. You learn by doing I know, but you have to watch first."

Y/n smirked. "Oh don't worry Doctor, I'm watching plenty."

"Oi!" The Doctor pointed a warning finger at Y/n, but his face was not angry as much as it was red like Y/n's had been before. "Behave, you."

"I think not," Y/n disregarded.

"I'm sorry are we ignoring the fact that we might go to a concert in the 1970's? How cool would that be Y/n? I bet your mum would love that."

Y/n darkened a bit. "No, my mum hated crowds. She did like the music though." It wasn't bitter, but thoughtful. The same tone the Doctor used when he talked about his old life, before the Time War. Rose had noticed how similar the men were becoming. More and more very day, and quickly too.

"You know, I can take you anywhere," the Doctor told Y/n. Anywhere in space, but also in time. In the past. We can watch all the greatest moments of history, no problem. We're not just here to fix the world, we could just learn to. Take an easy trip for once."

There was something Y/n had been wanting to see for ages. Ever since Rose had seen her dad, way back when he died and she held him. Back before the Doctor was this man who he was now. He knew he couldn't do it though. Not because he would try and save his parents - he had learned from Rose. No, he just didn't want the Doctor or Rose to see back then. He didn't want them to know. He had been curious though... For so long. He couldn't remember them much, and had forgotten their voices ages ago.

"I'd like a concert," Y/n answered. "What do you think, Rose?"

She gave a small smile, as if she'd seen Y/n's thoughts in that moment but was too polite to call him out. "Ian Durey and the Blockheads it is." The TARDIS jerked when the Doctor began to go, but that was usual. What was not usual, was when the Doctor took a hammer from under the desk and began to slam parts of the control panel with it. Needless to say, when they all landed Y/n was the first one out. He felt annoyed seeing that. Even... a little sick to his stomach. He didn't know why - he'd never been motion sick before. He thought best not to question it.

Not that he wasn't plenty distracted when he and the other two exited the TARDIS to realize they were absolutely not anywhere near a concert being set up in 1979. In fact, they were in-

"1879," the Doctor realized when they were faced with men on horses wearing red coats and cocking guns they pointed into the trio's faces. "Same difference." Y/n glared at him, but the Doctor only winked in response.

"You will explain your presence," one of the armed men demanded. "And the nakedness of this girl." Y/n smirked and as if sensing it, without looking over, Rose elbowed him. Now was not the time to be flaunting how right he had been to dress the way he had, and not the way he usually did.

When the Doctor spoke again, he had a Scottish accent on and Y/n's eyes widened in surprise. Since when could he do that? "Are we in Scotland?"

"How can you be ignorant of that?" The same man spoke again, seeming seconds away of shooting them all. Y/n wasn't concerned for himself... except he had no idea how to explain why the bullets wouldn't kill him. The more pressing matter was definitely the other two though.

The Doctor began to bullshit and Y/n felt his muscles tense. "Oh- I- I'm dazed and confused. I've been chasing this wee naked child over hill and over dale. My partner is usually the navigator, so I trust him to lead the way." The Doctor motioned to Y/n with a head tilt, then looked at Rose. "Isn't that right, you timorous beastie?" He seemed a little hesitant, and Y/n had the thought pass of how fast he'd have to move to cover both of them when the bullets began firing.

Rose only made it worst. "Och, aye. I've been... oot about aboot."

"Please stop," Y/n whispered, shaking his head. Y/n hadn't heard many Scottsmen speak, but after the Doctor's fairly believable go at it, her complete failure was even clear to him.

"Hoots, mon?" Rose tried again.

"No Y/n's right, seriously, stop," the Doctor followed up.

The man on the horse spoke again. "Will you identify yourself, sir?"

"I'm Doctor James McCrimmon from the township of Balamory," the Doctor answered, switching gears again immediately. "I have my credentials if I may?" He moved his hand toward his pocket, drawing out his psychic paper when given the go ahead. He flashed it at the man. "As you can see, a doctorate from the University of Edinburgh." He showed it around willingly, and Y/n felt quite proud of the Doctor's ability to pull off a lie. Not to those who knew him, but when it mattered at least. "I trained under Doctor Bell himself."

Suddenly a woman's voice rang out. "Let them approach."

The uniformed man hesitated. "I don't think that's wise, ma'am."

"Let them approach," the woman demanded again, this time with attitude.

Obviously he didn't want to, but the woman must have been the final say because he finally conceded with, "You will approach the carriage, and show all due deference."

So they approached. The carriage door opened and there sat an older woman who looked rather comfortable in the company of strangers. "Rose, Y/n," the Doctor began. "Might I introduce you to Her Majesty Queen Victoria, Empress of India and Defender of the Faith."

"Oh my god," Y/n whispered, eyes widening. Aliens were one thing, but someone so staple in their own history? That was what tripped Y/n up, out of all the things they'd seen. This was just too close to home. Too hard to separate and look at logically.

Rose handled it better. "Rose Tyler, ma'am," she greeted politely. "And... my apologies, for being so naked."

"I've had five daughters," the Queen dismissed. "It's nothing to me. Who's the young man on the other side of you now, who looks at me as if I've grown three heads?"

This time it was the Doctor who elbowed Y/n. "I-" Y/n cleared his throat. "Y/n, ma'am. Sorry."

She smiled, obviously enjoying herself. "No worries." Her eyes moved to the Doctor. "How about you, Doctor? Why don't you show me those credentials?" He did, handing them over. "Why didn't you say so immediately?" She seemed baffle,d and suddenly Y/n was nervous as to what she'd found. "It states clearly here that you've been appointed by the Lord Provost as my protector."

"Does it?" He looked at Y/n, who shrugged. "Yes he does," he continued, more confident. "Good. Good. Erm, then let me ask, why is Your Majesty travelling by road when there's a train all the way in Aberdeen?"

"A tree on the line," she answered smoothly.

"By accident?" The Doctor pressed.

Queen Victoria seemed to find that question tiresome. "I am the Queen of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland. Everything around me tends to be planned?"

"An assassination attempt?" The Doctor seemed to be trying to understand something that seemed trivial to Y/n, but he had long since learned to not question the Doctor.

"What seriously?" Rose seemed stunned, just as Y/n was gathering his senses, as if she'd taken it into her to give him a break. "There's people out to kill you?"

"I'm quite used to staring down the barrel of a gun," the Queen reassured, though it wasn't reassuring at all.

The man on the horse from earlier spoke again. "Sir Robert Macleish lives but ten miles hence. We've sent word ahead. He'll shelter us for tonight, then we can reach our destination in the morning."

"This Doctor and his... timorous beastie will come with us." There was humor in her eyes. "As well as the silent one." Y/n ducked his head in embarrassment. The guard, which seemed to be what the man on the horse was, accepted that and then got them all moving again. He made a comment about the coming of nightfall, and Y/n found himself pleasantly surprised when the Queen responded, "Indeed. And there are stories of wolves in these parts. Fanciful tales, intended to scare children, but good for the blood I think." She looked ahead. "Drive on."

They all began walking and Y/n felt himself get awkward with all the guards watching him and he moved closer to the Doctor, nearly reaching out to take the man's hand. And then a few guards gave him a look of startled disgust and Y/n remembered what time they were in and felt a pang in his chest. He had to pretend all over again. The Doctor and Rose could be together wherever they were - whenever - but Y/n had to restrain himself. He dropped behind at the thought, distracting the movement that had been him about to reach out as pushing hair out of his face. It didn't fool the guards who knew what he had been doing anyway, so Y/n dropped back behind the Doctor and Rose. They looked at him but he just looked away, swallowing his awkwardness.

They arrived toward evening. The Queen was helped out as the Master of the house approached. "Your Majesty," the man greeted, bowing deeply.

"Sir Robert," the Queen returned brightly. "My apologies for the emergency. And how is Lady Isobel?"

"She's..." And then he hesitated, and Y/n felt in his gut that same feeling he always got when he felt something was wrong. He found himself questioning whether the man's wife was sick, or something else entirely was going on. "Indisposed, I'm afraid. She's gone to Edinburgh for the season.." He hesitated again, and Y/n felt that same pang. This time he was quite sure something was wrong. "And she's taken the cook with her, the kitchens are barely stocked. I wouldn't blame Your Majesty if you wanted to ride on."

"Not at all," the Queen chuckled. "I've had quite enough carriage exercise, and this is charming, if rustic. It's my first visit to this house. My late husband spoke of it often, the Torchwood Estate."

At that Y/n jerked. "I'm sorry, the what Estate?" Everyone looked at him like he'd gone mad.

"Torchwood," Sir Robert answered. "It was my father's house." The Queen hadn't objected to Y/n cutting in, so the man continued. The way Y/n was looking at him, Sir Robert seemed to see that the man was thinking, and thinking was what he needed in that moment. "It's a very old house you see. Lots of dangers in the old wood. That's why my wife est you see. She's grown tired of the keep up and needed a break. Are you sure you don't want to continue?" The man looked directly into Y/n's eyes and Y/n felt his heart stop. What was he trying to tell him?

"Quite sure," Queen Victoria interrupted. "Now, shall we go inside?" Sir Robert fought a frown when he nodded, seeming to want to run away. The panic in his eyes was so clear to Y/n, he was shocked no one else could see it. Y/n couldn't interrupt the Queen again though - he'd already tested his boundary. They began to go in, Y/n's mind racing as he scanned the Estate, looking for something out of place.

Then his eyes landed on the staff. They were all bald, and staring at Y/n like they wanted to destroy him. The Doctor moved up next to Y/n. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know," Y/n responded. "Yet." Despite how he wanted to stop it, he had no reason other than his gut feeling. What was he to do but be wary if nothing else? So they went inside.

The group headed for a room with what looked to be a gigantic telescope. "And this," the Queen began. "I take it, is the famous endeavor."

"All my father's work," Sir Robert answered. "Built by his hand in his final years. It became something of an obsession. He spent his money on this, rather than caring for the house himself."

"I wish I'd met him, I like him." The Doctor was smiling and Y/n almost rolled his eyes. He'd know all about obsessions overtaking your personal life, wouldn't he? "The thing's beautiful, can I..." He motioned to the telescope.

"Help yourself," Sir Robert allowed.

Rose and the Doctor surged forward to inspect it, but Y/n hung back, slowly dawdling past the butlers who were standing too close to just be there for no reason. The others began to talk, but Y/n focused on them. "You guys follow your Master around a lot, don't you?"

The bald man in front responded. "How else are we to attend to his needs?"

Y/n shrugged. "I suppose that's fair, except didn't Sir Robert say that the kitchens were poorly staffed and understocked? Doesn't it make sense that you'd be cleaning such a large estate, or working in those kitchens which seem to need such work?"

Eyes locked hard, it seemed to be a contest to see who'd blink first. The man was obviously impressed when Y/n won, if still irritated in Y/n's pressing. "Are you disapproving of how I do my job?"

Shrugging casually, Y/n stepped past them finally. "Not my right to do so. That would be Sir Robert's right to say or not say."

"What about me now?" Sir Robert piped up.

"I was just saying that your staff hovering so much surprises me, since you were stating how the kitchens needed some help. I of course don't mean to offend or tell you how to run things, Sir Robert. I..." He hesitated, the lie coming to him too easily. "I come from a rather poor family. I don't know how things like this works, and it fascinates me."

Sir Robert was the only one who saw through the lie - other than Rose, who was paying attention closely now, cued into Y/n's habits that showed when he was suspicious about something. Sir Robert hesitated, as if considering using the excuse to dismiss the men, but then decided against it - that same fear flashing in his eyes again. "I like to have them around. With my wife gone, they keep me company."

Y/n nodded in understanding, but the two men locked eyes and Y/n knew immediately. There was something up here. It seemed too late though. He had no proof and if these men were dangerous enough to control Sir Robert so in his own house, they'd doomed themselves the second they walked in the door. Y/n had to be careful about this - especially because it seemed he's just placed a huge target on his back.

The Doctor spoke, shifting the subject. "It's a bit rubbish." Only then did they all remember the telescope. Even the Queen had been distracted, looking between Sir Robert and Y/n like she was picking up on the signals between the two men, but didn't know what they meant. "How many prisms has it got? Way too many!" The Doctor stood from where he'd been crouched to inspect the instrument before. "The magnification's over the top. That's a stupid kind of..." He turned to Rose. "Am I being rude again?"

"Yep," she confirmed, smiling.

"But it's pretty!" The Doctor continued. "Really, it's very pretty."

Y/n got distracted after that, his mind wandering as he ran through all the possibilities to try and figure out what was happening. He could talk to the Doctor later to get feedback, but he'd at least like to have some theories to throw out when the time came. They weren't aliens, surely. The Doctor seemed to be able to pick up on that sort of thing eventually. If that was the case, Y/n sure wouldn't know. What else could it be.

Someone nudged Y/n and he looked up to see Sir Robert of all people. He had reached out to touch Y/n. "You Doctor seems interested in children's stories and magic and the stars. How do you put up with him?" He was making a joke, but that's not why he had gotten Y/n's attention to tell it.

Smiling came easy. He knew Sir Robert had the answers and that he wanted to tell Y/n. All he could do for now was give hints, and that's all Y/n needed for now. "Stories, eh? I like those myself. What kind of stories."

"One about a wolf around these parts, like I told you about in the carriage," the Queen answered. The fact that Sir Roberts purposefully stayed quiet made Y/n listen more than it seemed he was supposed to. "His father and my husband were quite fond of it, and the Doctor asked him to tell it to us. I'd be lying if I said i wasn't curious myself, actually."

"It's said that-" Sir Roberts began.

"Excuse me, sir." the bald man from earlier interrupted, and when Y/n and Sir Roberts locked eyes again, Y/n looked over carefully, taking in the man, trying to pull secrets out with just a look. "Perhaps Her Majesty's party could go their rooms now. It's almost dark."

"Well that was rude," Y/n spoke up. Again all eyes were on him, and this time the Doctor and Y/n were picking up on the way Y/n and the bald man were glaring at each other, eyes locked. "The Master of the house was talking, and he was just about to tell us something very interesting. Even I wait until people are done talking, and I'm considered insolent." There was tangible tension in the room. Tension that seemed apparent only to those who could pick up on Y/n's small tells, and those who knew first hand that this was not as it appeared."

"Please forgive me, sir," the man apologized flatly. There was a threat in his voice, one that made Y/n go silent - especially when Sir Robert shot him a panicked look. "I only figured that you'd all want to rest before dinner."

Damn, that was a good excuse.

"What a lovely idea," the Queen gleefully spoke. "And some clothes for Miss Tyler, perhaps. Sir Robert, surely your wife left something behind?" The man nodded. "See to it. We shall dine at 7, and talk more of this.. wolf." At that the bald man simmered, and Y/n realized the connection. "After all, there is a full moon tonight."

Y/n's eyes widened. He had to hear this story... though, he didn't think he did have to actually.

The Doctor followed Y/n to his room. "This isn't where you'll be staying Doctor," one of the bald men said.

"I'll find it in a bit, just leave the door open. I need to find my friend." The man dressed as a butler hesitated, but couldn't find a good enough reason to stop this from happening, so he nodded and left. When the door closed behind them and they were safe from those outside, the Doctor rounded on Y/n. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

"The stories they mentioned earlier? They're true, and the men - the bald men - they're in one it. I don't think Sir Robert's wife is even gone off for some weather or old house, I think she's captured. Or dead." He shook his head. "I have no proof, only hunches and small noticings. But I'm telling you, Doctor. A wolf that only comes out on the full moon? The way the man interrupted Sir Robert from sharing the story. I think it's true, and I think it's coming after us tonight." It dawned on him then. "Or... after the Queen. No one else here alive is important, who should be here."

The Doctor considered all of this. "I believe you Y/n, I do. But we need proof, and that means we need to lay low and play innocent. You're brilliant, all you've gathered in such short time. I need you a bit longer before they try to kill you though and everything goes wrong. Do you trust me?" Y/n nodded immediately.

Rather unexpectedly, the Doctor grabbed Y/n's face and pulled him into a kiss then. He stepped backward, pressing his back to the door. Y/n kissed him back instantly, leaning into him. He hesitated, but when the Doctor kept kissing him, he found himself unable to help himself getting lost in it. His fingers threaded into the Doctor's hair and pulled their bodies closer. The Doctor's hands wandered, pulling and tugging on Y/n's shirt.

Just as quickly as it began, the kiss stopped and the Doctor was pushing him away. "Alright." The his voice was a little lower, his eyes blown just a bit. "I've been wanting to do that all day."

Y/n scoffed. "You snogged me like that to, what, blow off steam?"

The Doctor bit his lip, shaking his head before orienting his thoughts again. "I needed a reason to be in here that wouldn't incriminate us. They can suspect you know something, so you keep the attention on you. You're the diversion. While they're worried about you finding out, I'll poke around and see what I can find. They won't expect me because-"

"They'll only think you came in here to snog me," Y/n realized.

"Not a thing you can fake, the results of that. It leaves a nice touch, the blown out eyes and the... the lips." Y/n realized that the Doctor's lips were a little bit more red than usual. "Anyway, pleasure and business mix every once in a while - grand time when it does. See you at dinner."

Y/n rested his forehead on the door when the Doctor left.

What in the world was he going to do with this man?

The smile hadn't left his face when he sat down for dinner, and despite him straightening his shirt, there was still a heat to his face. The Doctor wasn't much better. The affects were missed by everyone who wasn't paying attention, but were picked up by the ones that mattered. The butlers who obviously were not butlers. And the Doctor's planned seemed to work. They immediately dismissed the Doctor and focused their attention on Y/n. He was probably in danger... not that he could die, which would hopefully be the worst thing that could happen tonight.

The man who seemed to be in charge of the bald men stepped forward, speaking as he had when he'd challenged Y/n earlier and lost. "Your companion begs an apology. Her clothing has somewhat delayed her." Y/n's heart stopped. His grip on the table turned his knuckles white.

By some miracle, the Doctor seemed as if he had no worries at all. "Oh, that's alright. Save her a wee bit of ham." Y/n's mind was racing again, his eyes focusing on Sir Robert. The man seemed to be apologetic, but not too sorrowful. Y/n was picking up on the man's emotions quickly as he watched him more and more. He only hoped he was right. Either way, it really didn't matter. Either Rose was trapped and they had time to work this out and save her, or... she was too far past saving to take risks anyway. And if Y/n left this room, he'd be doing it alone, and that would put him in line next to be carted away. The Doctor needed some help at the very least.

"Besides, we're all waiting on Sir Robert!" the Doctor exclaimed, breaking the men out of their stare and grabbing their attention again. "You promised us a tale of nightmares."

"Indeed," Victoria agreed. "Since my husband's death I find myself with more of a taste for supernatural fiction."

"You must miss him," the Doctor vocalized. It was then that Y/n thought back to the first time the Doctor lost someone. His own wife, even. The mother of his children... If anyone understood, it would be him. The Doctor understood loss better than anyone.

As if seeing that understanding in the man across from her, the Queen allowed herself a moment to be vulnerable. It was a very Y/n thing to do. Perhaps... Y/n was influencing the Doctor, the same way the Doctor was influencing Y/n. "Oh, completely." She paused, the air in the room growing heavy with emotion. "And that's the charm of a ghost story, isn't it? Not the scares and chills, that's just for children, but the hope pf some contact with the great beyond. We all want some message from that place. It's the Creator's greatest mystery that we're allowed no such consolation." Her eyes became far away and Y/n looked at his hands. What would he have left behind if he'd never become immortal? What would people leave behind with him, when their time came? That thought. The thought of realizing yet again that he was going to lose one person after the other forever... except the Doctor. They were all the other had left now. The only person they each had a chance of keeping forever. "The dead stay silent, and we must wait." Her voice grew small, and then she shook her head and switched gears to being chipper once more. "Come, begin your tale, Sir Robert. There's a chill in the air. The wind is howling. Tell us of monsters."

Under the table, Y/n let his knuckles rub against the Doctor's hand softly. In response, the brunette man turned his palm upward, allowing Y/n to interlace their fingers. Both relaxed.

"The story goes back three hundred years," Sir Robert began. "Every full moon the howling rings through the valley. Next morning, live stock is found ripped apart and d-" he cut off, that same terrified look crossing his face. "Devoured." Y/n felt his leg twitch.

The head of the guard laughed off the spook in the air by saying, "Oh, tales like this just disguise the work of thieves. Steal a sheep and blame a wolf - simple as that."

Robert was having none of that. "But sometimes a child goes missing," he insisted, pushing it to try and drive his point home. It seemed to be written off as dramatics by everyone else in the room. Everyone except Y/n who was listening intently, and the Doctor, who Y/n knew was listening even though he gave no note of it. "Once in a generation, a boy will vanish from his homestead.

Y/n knew the man holding his hand had questions, but if they were going the route of keeping attention on Y/n, Y/n had to be the one to ask. "Is there anything that tells what this thing looks like?"

"Drawings and wood carvings," Sir Robert affirmed. "And it's not merely a wolf, it's more than that. This is a man who becomes a wolf." He drove each word at Y/n, saying much more than just a story. What had he seen? Risked, to tell Y/n this?

"A werewolf," Y/n voiced, resting his elbows on the table.

"What a neat little story." The Doctor was smiling, shaking his head in the same way the head of the guard was.

"My father didn't treat it as a story," Sir Robert said, but his interest was as invested in convincing the Doctor as the bald men were worried he was someone to worry about. The plan was working, at least. "He said it was fact. He even claimed to have communed with the beast, to have learned its purpose. I should have listened."

The bald man began to move and Y/n went into protective mode. "Of course, it was your father's passion. I'm sure you miss him and wished to have listened more. Engaged with him." Sir Robert half halfheartedly nodded.

"The thing was, his work was hindered. He made enemies." This time Sir Robert focused on Y/n purposefully, eyes boring into Y/n's very soul. "There's a monastery in the Glen of St Catherine. The Brethren opposed my father's investigations."

"Perhaps they thought his work ungodly," the Queen suggested. That was when it clicked for Y/n, his eyes wandering to the bald men. The men who were monks, and who were also mumbling incoherently nonsense in a foreign language that set Y/n's hair standing up.

"That's what I thought," Sir Robert agreed. "But now I wonder. What if they had a different reason for wanting to keep the story quiet? What if they turned from God and worshiped the wolf?"

"I think..." Y/n drawled, his hand tightening around the Doctor's. "It's time to make a new plan, Doctor. I don't think its going to do any good to play nice."

The Doctor's eyes widened. "Right." He turned around rather sharply, dropping Y/n's hand in favor of moving to his feet. They weren't getting any more information now - they had to find Rose. Chaos broke out, the Queen and the head guard trying to figure out why the Doctor and Y/n were so upset, Sir Robert apologizing because they had his wife, and the Doctor demanding to know where Rose was. There sat Y/n in the middle of it all, trying to be more productive than the confusion and the guilt and the yelling at people who were not going to respond.

"Doctor!" Y/n called, trying to knock sense into him.

The man looked over and he took a deep breath in. "Sir Robert, come on!" The three men took off down the hall. Sir Robert lead the other two to the basement, where a bunch of people were chained up and trying to pull to freedom as a werewolf grew to a dangerous form not even five feet from them.

Rose was so amazing, lord.

"Where have you been?" The blonde demanded.

"I missed you too," Y/n shot back. The joke didn't last long though, because soon they were all distracted by everyone scattering in a grab for freedom. All the women but Rose were rushed to the kitchens and the men all but Y/n and the Doctor were armed. There was a noise and the Doctor dipped from the room for a moment only to come bolting back, grabbing Rose's hand. She grabbed Y/n's and the train pull got them all out of the room and stay together at the same time. They made it just behind the line of guns just in time for the weapons to go off as the wolf itself turned around the corner in full force.

The Doctor took charge when the thing bolted from the bullets. "All right, you men, we should retreat upstairs. Come with me."

"I'll not retreat," the ground's keeper insisted. "The battle's done. There's no creature on God's earth could survive such an assault."

"You think not?" Y/n demanded, in no mood for people to act afool. He snagged a gun from one of the men, thrusting the thing into the Doctor's hand guiding the end of the barrel to his throat. "Shoot me please, Doctor." Without hesitation, the Doctor obeyed, knowing Y/n would be okay in a few seconds. There were some startled screams and a moment of darkness as Y/n passed out only a few seconds, but then he awoke and men stood around him, stunned. "Like I said," Y/n grumbled as he stood up again. "You think not? That's what I thought, listen to the Doctor now."

Soon they were all heading their way upstairs, just in time for the halls behind them to echo with the thing's roar. "Well at least you're alive," the Doctor reminded as the ground keeper's face grew ashen pale. They ran up, Sir Robert calling the Queen. She was running down the stairs to greet them.

"What's going on?" The older woman demanded. "I heard such horrible noises."

"Ma'am, we've got to get out," Sir Robert urged. "But what of Father Angelo, is he still here?"

The woman hesitated then responded, "Captain Reynolds disposed of him." Sure.

The Doctor, who'd left the room to check the front door, returned just then to deliver only bad news. "The front door is boarded shut. Pardon me, Your Majesty, you'll have to leg it out a window." The group moved to a window, only to get shot at and have it quickly proven that windows were as much not an options as the sealed door was.

"I reckon the monkey-boys want us to stay inside," the Doctor sighed.

"Do they know who I am?" the Queen demanded.

"Yeah," Rose answered. "That's why they want you. The wolf's got you lined up for a... a biting."

The Queen was not having that. "Now stop this talk. There can't be an actual wolf." Just then a howl broke through the house and Y/n had to bite back a laugh.

In the end, believing or not, they all took off running (after some snarky banter, but that was usual) and were all barely saved as they turned the corner and the wolf almost took them over, just in time for that head guard who Y/n realized he did not know the name of. The man tried to stay behind to give the others time to retreat, but now it was Y/n's turn not to tolerate nonsense.

"Now you listen to me," Y/n snapped with such authority that even the Queen didn't speak and payed attention. "I don't care who you are or what you've done or believe. I've got you all alive this far, and I've got plenty of witnesses that says I will do much better than you will facing down something that will absolutely kill you. Y/n ripped the gun from the man's hand. "Now go!"

"Why are you always staying behind?" Rose demanded, visibly stressed. "Just because you come back to life doesn't mean it won't hurt when that thing slices you up."

Y/n sighed. "It's my shtick, Rose, haven't you realized yet? I'm not good in stress anyway, I'm good for sacrificing myself and dealing with pain and doing the worst bits. You two are the brains, and you'll need as many hands as possible. Go."

"But-" Rose began.

"GO!" Y/n interrupted. "We can talk later."

Rose didn't listen at first. Instead she popped up on her tippy toes and caught Y/n's lips in hers. "You're an amazing man, Y/n." Y/n smiled and they finally all went, leaving Y/n behind like always to face the biggest problem on his own. It only made sense that he'd been given immortality. He was meant for this role. What he'd said had been truth, and everyone knew it. Y/n was the one who took the hardest hits because he could stand them better than anyone else. He was perhaps the only one who could stand them at all. Rose was right too, it didn't stop it from hurting, but he'd rather someone not die to spare him a bit of aching.

Everyone made it into the room, but Rose lingered, and that was why she was the one who got to watch Y/n get ripped apart. The last thing Y/n saw before the world went black and his bones snapped like twigs was the Doctor pulling Rose into the room so Y/n was out of sight.

When Y/n awoke again, he was too afraid to move in case it reawakened the memories of the last time his body had moved. When it had broken and snapped and caved in and his existence had become pain and loss. He just lay there, breathing, alone and cold in the silent darkness. He expected some kind of soreness or stiffness, but neither bothered him. His body was completely healed as if it had never once had anything wrong with it ever.

It was only when he heard a scream that he made his way to his feet, running after it to see what was wrong. As if on cue, there was Sir Robert standing with an ax or a sword or something, facing down that stupid beast. "Okay," Y/n growled, walking up. Sir Robert's eyes went wide. "Yes, I'm still alive. Now get into those doors you idiot, dying for a cause is my job!"

Sir Robert looked at Y/n, reaching out a hand to rest on his shoulder. "There is more to life than dying to protect everyone else, Y/n. You're brave, and amazing, but don't take this from me. I need to atone. I need to-" A roar echoed and the two men turned to see the wolf. Y/n stepped forward, screaming back. The wolf saw Y/n and froze, stunned.Y/n could practically see the thing recalling the memory of killing the man who stood before him now, completely fine.

"You think you will fear nothing," Y/n snarled, hunched over with his lip curled back. He looked quite wolfish himself, and the actual roof in the hallway seemed to take a step back. "Get back. GET BACK!" And by some insanity, the thing obeyed. "You're right, Robert. There is more to life than dying for a cause. You have a wife who cares about you, and I have watched far too many people die. Let me make a difference. Let me be the one who saves lives for once. Please, go inside." Sir Robert hesitated then nodded, stepping away from the door and into the adjacent hallway, out of range of the beast. There was a moment's pause where no one was sure what to do. Then the door behind Y/n opened and a hand wrapped around his arm and he was yanked back. The beast ran after him, whatever spell broken, and then-

Light.

So much light.

Y/n ended up on the ground, curled in a ball away from the light. He was so tired. He didn't ever want to move from that spot. Perhaps he could not negotiate never, but he could claim now. So he closed his eyes and did not move for a very long time. Because he was allowed that, I think. And so did everyone else.

When Y/n did move again, it was only to walk out of the estate and across the land they'd crossed what seemed ages ago to make his way back to the TARDIS, leaving the wrapping up to the Doctor and Rose.

He had a long time to himself in the quiet. A very long time. Far too long a time. He leaned against the control panel, hands flat on the controls, eyebrows knit together.

Finally, he spoke.

"I know you gave me his memories," Y/n told the control panel. "I know you were there when Rose was using your power. I felt you. Heard your voice. You told me his story. One that wasn't yours to tell. And now I know his life - his entire life, as if I lived it myself - and I have memories that aren't mine. That don't belong to me. How am I supposed to tell him that? How would I ever expect him to be okay with me knowing EVERYTHING? His life is clearer to me than my own." Y/n sighed, rubbing his face. "I can't die, but I can save people. I can lessen the burden he carries on his shoulders. The way he remembers each and every death and it hurts him. I took that upon myself, you know. And the wait of it all. The weight he must have, knowing that he can save one life and strand me and Rose here, or that he won't be able to save anyone's life ever again.

"Not to mention, he can die! He only regenerates when he's in the process of dying. If someone kills him before he regenerates, that's it. It's over. No more Doctor. For the first time maybe ever, it's not him who had to be afraid of losing someone because they might not live as long as him." Y/n sighed, feeling his heart fall slowly into his stomach. "Not to mention... I'm going to have to say goodbye to Rose someday, aren't I?" He looked up at the TARDIS around him, tears coming to his eyes. "How am I ever going to say goodbye to her now that we...?" His head fell forward as he sighed. After a second his hands tightened into fists as he stared at the floor under his feet. His gaze hardened. "I won't, you hear me? Not for a long time. A REALLY long time. We have so much time left together. She won't die or leave us. Not unless by choice, and I don't think she would leave if given the option. I'm going to protect her. You hear me?" He pushed off the panel, standing tall. "I don't care if I have to die every time we go out. I'm going to protect everyone."

It was a vow he would learn to regret.

The TARDIS door opened with two very nervous people entering the box that was bigger on the inside, expecting to see a very upset Y/n. Instead, they were greeted by a wide, brilliant smile and sparkling eyes as the man that had left in the middle of the night and spent all that time alone because Rose and the Doctor had to wrap things up with the Queen, leaned against the control panel like he knew they'd been about to enter. "You guys ready to go?"

Rose was the first one to answer. She wasn't smiling. "Y/n?"

The man turned away from her, beginning to distract himself by running his hands along the switches and buttons he wasn't completely familiar with yet. "That's my name. Where do you want to go this time, Rose? I'm sure you'd be a better person to give suggestions, Doctor, but I could shoot some ideas through history if we wanted to stay on Earth."

There was a moment of quiet where the Doctor and Rose had a silent argument before they stopped just in time for Y/n to finally turn around. "Y/n can we talk?" Rose asked gently, her smile small and soft.

Instantly Y/n was shot with terror. "Uh-" He looked at the TARDIS wall, trying to let the light make the horrible feeling in his chest go away. Had they finally decided he was useless and more a burden than anything and wanted him to go home? Was he too reckless and had upset them? Was he getting annoying, wanting to learn how to drive the TARDIS? Had he been rushing things by trying to be with both of them? Had... had they learned that they liked being together and not with him? "Talk about what?" Y/n finally asked, his gaze finally moving from the wall as he turned his back to them, trying to memorize the TARDIS so that he'd remember her as long as possible when he was gone.

Arms suddenly wrapped around his waist, looping under his arms. A face pressed to his back. He tensed, unsure of what was happening. "I love you."

Y/n was stunned. "I love you too, Rose." Her arms loosened, allowing Y/n to turn around to face, her, unsure of what was on her mind. "But?"

"But nothing," the blonde assured. "You just need to understand... losing you is terrible. And I know that you don't stay dead when you die, but- before you were immortal you were bad enough, but now you don't even try to stay alive anymore. It's really got me worried."

This was even more confusing. "I can't die, Rose."

"Do you want to?" That was the Doctor, and when Y/n looked at him, there was a look in his eyes that made Y/n feel terrible. This man had watched his whole planet and everyone he cared about die. After that, he had lost every friend and sometimes even more. The way he looked at Y/n now was not necessarily fear, because he didn't have to worry about Y/n dying. It was exhaustion. It was the face of a man who was tired watching his loved ones die.

"Of course I don't," Y/n answered honestly. Dying sucked. He hadn't had much experience with the process - the worst he'd had was last night when he'd felt his body shatter and then woken up perfectly fine and in one piece, with the memory still clear in his head. He'd felt insane, which had never happened before. None of his experiences dying had been good, and last night had shown him just how terrible it could be. It had also made him wonder... how far did this go? Could he be vaporized and still return completely fine, or if he was reduced to ashes, would he stay dead? Honestly, he didn't want to find out. Vaporizing looked painful and he didn't want that in his head. Not like he had the feeling of teeth ripping his chest and stomach into shreds ingrained in his brain with a clarity that still had him unsettled.

The Doctor pursed his lips. "Why did you?"

Y/n scoffed. "What, you're mad that I died when I did it to save all those people, knowing I would come back?"

That seemed to bother both of them. "We both watched you die last night, Y/n. In really unpleasant ways," Rose said softly, her hand stroking his chest comfortingly, as if to calm him down. He would be lying if he said it didn't work even a little. "You had the Doctor shoot you for goodness sake."

"He did it," Y/n reasoned weakly. "I-" He swallowed. "I didn't think it bothered you. I came back."

"I thought so too," the Doctor agreed. "That's why I did it." There was a short pause where the two men looked at each other, and Y/n was suddenly glad he could only see the Doctor's past feelings and thoughts, and not what was going through the Timelord's head now. "Then I watched you bleed out on that floor, and it was very real and you were very dead, and I have that memory now." He shrugged, obviously as uncomfortable with the conversation as Y/n was.

Y/n wondered absently how long Rose had taken to talk him into doing this at all.

"I'm going to be okay," Y/n reassured.

Something odd happened then. They were still looking at each other when they were hit by the same memory, almost watching it be recalled in the other person's mind. Somehow, that made it even harder to bare.

"I'm going to be okay, Dad, don't worry."

There was terror in every part of my... his body. I knew it more clearly than ever now, even though I also knew that I was seeing it from his eyes. The last time he was a dad with his kid. I was seeing it from his eyes so I knew that it was... both of our bodies, I guess. Just for a moment. For that memory, I allowed myself to make it personal. I allowed myself to become the Doctor, staring at his kid and hoping with ever fiber in his being that they would see each other again when it came time.

"We both will be." The woman smiled, hand reaching out to touch... my face. Her smile was warm and soft and compassionate. The same fear coursing through me, reflected in her eyes. They'd already lost so much. How much more could they all handle?

Y/n looked away, but he didn't miss the bewildered expression on the Doctor's face. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I just... want to be useful, I guess."

Rose's hands gripped Y/n's face, forcing the man to look at her when she spoke to him. "You don't need to be useful, Y/n. You are, don't get me wrong, but that's not why you're here. You're here because you're apart of us, and we care about you, and that is plenty enough. You're here because you chose to be here and then kept choosing to be here despite everything. THAT is the only reason you're here, do you understand me?" After a second, Y/n nodded. "I know you feel obligated to save people, just... please, you're important too. Even if you come back, it's going to start taking its toll on you eventually. Remember that."

Y/n allowed himself to relax into her touch. He looked into her eyes and saw the woman he never met. The care in her eyes matched Rose's, as much as the determination and care. They didn't really look alike, but their love was the same, as it was the same for everyone who felt it - one way or another. "Okay." He smiled, and Rose relaxed. "Is this you asking me not to die?"

Rose chuckled, shaking her head. "I never thought I'd have to ask that of you honestly." She shook her head, her hands dropping. "But no. Just... care about yourself as much as you care about other people. You're important too. That's all I'm asking. Just because you can do something, doesn't mean you should."

That was fair.

"Now," the Doctor said, drawing the attention of the other two. "We have adventuring to do. Any suggestions?" Rose and Y/n parted so Y/n could join the Doctor at the control panel. Rose leaned against the wall across from them, crossing her arms and smiling. She looked at lot happier now. Y/n realized she'd probably been terrified of seeing Y/n die again, carrying a weight with that fear that had drug her down enough that now, she felt light enough to have a bounce in her step. She recognized that it was going to happen again, but at the very least it wouldn't happen often, like it had been.

"You pick," Y/n sighed. "I think you deserve a turn."

The Doctor's face began to light up with a smile. "So be it."

156 notes · View notes

elucere · 3 years

Text

Sad Late August Quarantine Thoughts 2.0

Last year, I wrote this. Basically my thoughts on how I felt in my life up to that point and what quarantine had illuminated. It felt cathartic then, so hopefully it’ll feel cathartic now. A part of that probably had to do with the fact that the last part was complete bullshit, but we’ll get into that later.

At nearly the slightest inconvenience now, I’ll say “I’m at my limit”. Technically, that isn’t really true because if I was really at my limit, at the next inconvenience I would completely lose it. But no, I’m just simply reminding myself that while I’m constantly met with a series of unfortunate events, I haven’t broken down yet. I might feel like I’m there, but I’m not. I’m just at my limit. Things are bad, but they aren’t the worst they could be yet. So keep in mind, I am very much at my limit as I’m writing this.

Last year I talked about my struggles with my job. Yeah, I got fired in February. It was not pretty either. I knew I wasn’t doing well performance wise, and they invited me into a zoom call that they said was a project meeting a week before my year anniversary and fired me. My supervisor (or I guess, ex-supervisor) cried on call. I didn’t cry until afterwards. It was an entire year of me trying to get better, him promising that it’ll come with time, and then getting sacked because “we didn’t see improvements”. Really, really fucking sucked. And it messed with me for a long time because I kept replaying those last few weeks, trying to decipher what I could’ve done differently to prove my worth and keep my position. There was a lot. I felt really guilty.

I think the worst part is that I got a performance warning in December and realized at that point I’d become so apathetic about my job that I needed professional help. I’d been trying to go to therapy for a long time, but it never panned out. My mom forbade it when I was in high school, it was practically impossible to get an appointment at my college’s mental health facility unless you were considered a threat to yourself and others (which I most certainly did not want on my record), and after school life happened so fast with the pandemic and the fact that I live in a 2 bedroom apartment with my mom and my brother with very little privacy. Even now that I’ve convinced my mom that therapy is okay, actually, she still highly disproves and sees it as some sort of psychological failing on my part. Which is. Sure. Whatever. Why not.The reason I did not enroll in therapy that December is actually because my dad lost his job and with it, his health insurance, and with that, my health insurance. That means I had to enroll in a health plan through my employment, which became an unanticipatedly long process. I actually got my new-but-useless health insurance card in the mail a few days after I got fired. They actually fired me on the last day of the month, so my benefits wouldn’t extend beyond that month. That’s a bit of fun irony.

To quite a few of my friends, this story solidified the idea that insurance=therapy. As soon as I got insurance again, I’d be able to finally get some help. This was a couple of people’s first response to me when I got hired again (yay, I know I don’t have to worry about that anymore but I’m also afraid that I’ll just inevitably be fired again so I don’t let myself have the victory). I know my friends only want the best for me, and I can’t expect them be able to emotionally support me like a professional, but I’m afraid that they think that therapy will be some sort of magical fix of sorts. I don’t mean in the sense of just getting better mentally, but I think being a tolerable person. I know that sounds like I’m just being self-depreciating, but let me explain.

A few years ago I was at dinner with one of my friends. I don’t remember exactly what we were talking about, but she goes “name three things you actually like” because I was probably being negative or something. I said a few things and whatever, but that comment stuck with me for a long time. I thought it was especially poignant or something. Am I so unhappy all the time because I fixate on things I don’t like? It could be connected to the attitude of social media to be outwardly negative. Casual wisdom, you know.

Well, that was the fact until I was out with that same friend and we visited Barnes and Noble. I’ve been doing quite a bit of reading this year and got more involved in the book community, so I have many Opinions. Some are good, some are bad, some are just me being annoying. After an hour of browsing the shelves, we drive home. I start talking about a series I really like in the car and she goes “It’s nice to hear you talk about a book you actually like.” Which kind of stunned me because I had just did a lot of talking about books I liked. How happy I was that kids were still reading Rangers Apprentice, going out of my way to see how many Brandon Sanderson books I could find in the Adult Fantasy section, and more reminiscing in the Young Adult section about books I liked recently or as a teen. The truth is, I talk about stuff I like all the time to people who will listen. Ask me about my favorite books! My favorite movies! My favorite musicals! I promise I will not shut up. It’s one of the few things I have that lift my spirits when I talk about it, I just don’t get the opportunity to much because it’s hard to find people who want to listen.

The thing is, I’m naturally a critical person, I think. I love tearing things apart, in good and bad ways. I also love gossip. I’m an okay gossip, but I know at this point that I’m a good critic. I’m really good at identifying faults and commenting them on an insightful or constructive way. I edit a lot of my friends’ writings for this reason. I don’t find that to be anything negative, it’s just something that’s interesting to me. Basically what I’m saying is, what if it’s not mental illness and I’m just annoying and I’ll not be able to meet the expectations of other people’s idea of progress for me and I’ll be a disappointment. I’m kind of tearing up while typing that out while listening bopping to Disturbia by Rihanna but this is the third time I’ve been on the verge of crying today so yaknow maybe it is just mental illness.At this point, I can either talk about criticism in relation to the particular way I dish it, or I could talk about how I want to receive it. I think the former will take less time to elaborate, so I’ll start with that.

I mention last year how I got an unpaid gig as a critic for DiscussingFilm. Embarrassing at times, I joke with my friends that “DiscussingFilm Writer” is a slur, but it’s cool at times as well. I got a press pass to go to Sundance and gorged on an entire family sized bag of peanut M&Ms while I watched like 14 movies in one weekend. I’m trying to say positive things about this until I start ragging to prove that I’m not an overwhelmingly negative person, but I don’t think that’s working well. Whatever. The point is, if I didn’t like it I would quit, but if I did quit it wouldn’t be because I didn’t like it. It would because there was an…event. I had quite a falling out with one of the higher-ups that run the site and in response my work has taken a hit. I won’t go into too much detail, but I don’t get assigned anticipated releases anymore. My work is often delayed going out and, in turn, I feel less motivated to turn in my work on time. And then on top of that, it’s rarely promoted. I have examples on top of examples, but this stupid thing is getting long enough. To summarize the DiscussingFilm situation, I feel like shit. I have one of the lowest view counts on the site. I’m told that my work is good and it’s valued, but not enough to get reposted, I guess! Why bother. And also because the person I do not work well with is quite up in the food chain, I’ll never see a promotion. I wanted to become an editor so bad (I do editing on the side for my friends and enjoy it), but now it will never ever happen. I don’t have the opportunity to prove myself, it’s just completely off the table by nature of leadership. Ass. Complete ass. I’m doing quite a bit of work for DiscussingFilm including creating the standard for the Instagram, making graphics for the Instagram, performing interviews and writing reviews for the site, and co-hosting a DiscussingFilm branded podcast, and I will never see neither a dime for my work or recognition in any meaningful or significant way. I don’t have a say in anything, and I feel like an insignificant cog whose opinion does not mean much.

I still get insecure with my reviews, but not as much anyways. Sure, I can’t compare to the great writers at trades who do this for a living and have been doing so for years. But, I am better than a lot of writers at my level. Sometimes I try pitching to other publications, but so far I’ve only been met with rejection. It kinda stings to know that my work is not worth enough to be paid for, but I’m kinda over it. I still pitch. I try my best. That’s the thing about me, I just keep going. Rejection hurts like a bitch, but whatever. I don’t want to quit just yet, so I guess I won’t. There isn’t anyone in my corner who’s actively spurring me to keep going, I’ve just decided that I’ll get paid for my work one day and so now I will.This connects with the criticism I want to receive which unfortunately very much is not of the nonfiction variety. Ew I fucking hate talking about this but I need to get it off my chest.

After I got fired, I was slipping into quite a bit of a depression. I started a podcast at this time with my friend to try and prevent that, but I knew that I probably needed another project. I wasn’t watching movies anymore, DiscussingFilm was not publishing my shit, and all I was doing all day was reading (which I don’t anymore, I’m in a slump and it’s definitely connected to the idea I have in the next sentence). So I had the brilliant idea of “hey, I could do that. I could write a book. I should do it to do it.”You see, this has not been my only attempt at writing a proper book. I tried when I was 13, I tried when I was 15 and into online literate roleplay, I tried when I was 18 by doing NaNoWriMo in college (also, I was actually more depressed then). I also tried to get into a short story class in college that you had to submit a story to get into and didn’t even make it on the waitlist. Nothing stuck. But hey, I was unemployed and I came up with a funny premise that I wasn’t too attached to, so why not?

The book is not funny. It was supposed to, but it’s changed a lot. I’m very comfortable writing in camp. It’s difficult because I know sometimes I have my moments, but often I don’t. I also chose to write it in a genre I’m not super familiar with (Young Adult contemporary, I read Young Adult and Adult fiction primarily). I didn’t expect it to be easy, but the things I thought would come easily did not come easily. I have a lot of male friends, so I could certainly write the male characters as real people, right? Right? I’m funny, so the humor would come across well, right? Did I anticipate that after years of pretty much only analyzing films critically I’d subconsciously structure my story using dialogue-driven storytelling similar to a screenplay? No! Not at all, actually! This journey of self-discovery has been ass at every corner!

I recognize that first drafts are shit and authors hate their writing, but also I’m built different, your honor. By 15k words in, I realized I needed an outside perspective. I hated my own writing and I was afraid none of the characters were coming off right. I needed feedback, and I still do. But I hate being perceived. As long as no one reads my writing, they think that I know what I’m talking about and value my opinion on their writing, but once they figure out I’m just an Imposter then it’s game over. They’ll lose respect for me. Logically, I know this isn’t how this works, but I feel physically nauseous whenever someone reads my writing.

Anyways, back to my much-needed criticism. To make a long story short involving several English teacher that caused me to quit pursuing writing altogether in my formative years and decide to switch to a STEM track, I have very little tangible self-awareness of my own writing and how to improve it. I need the outside feedback, or at least I did. I’m 60k words into my first draft now and I’m cripplingly self aware of all my errors, but it feels too little too late. 60k words are a lot of words, and it feels not great knowing that most of them are trash. I really needed this kind of feedback earlier in the process so I could make tweaks early on. I know that writing is like a muscle and you need to work it out and practice to get stronger, but fuck man, FUCK. 60k words is a LOT of words. And I still need people to read it and give me feedback and I’m literally willingly asking people to read shit. It’s so humiliating. I guess I’m just at a point where I wish I could look at it and find something of value in what I’ve written.

I see other authors and I get so jealous. At their confidence, at their lyricism, their mastery of the art, their enthusiasm for their story, their love of their characters. I don’t have that. I’m not even talking about imposter’s syndrome. I know what that feels like. This is something else. I just wish I was the kind of person who could openly be creative without wanting to die. I’m 100% sure if I could be enthusiastic about the story I want to tell, the entire thing would be better. It’s crazy how I noticed that I’m not writing any metaphors into realizing that’s directly connected with my inability to be vulnerable and that I’m detaching myself from my work. That, and the fact that I’m fucking shite at writing metaphors apparently.

It also doesn’t help that I don’t have a writer group of friends and very little people to talk about this with, none of which are like… enthusiastic. It’s not their fault. I attract people into my life who are very much like me. They’re supportive and wonderful but I need someone who’d be excited to talk to me about it. I just feel like such a huge burden all the time. Everytime I bring it up I feel terrible, but it’s occupying so much of my brain space and I have no outlet. But also, getting that group of friends would require me to be vulnerable online and be willing to share what I have so far which I might actually throw up.I think it’s very fun that “crying and throwing up” has become a saying on Twitter considering that I’ve counted a countless amount of times this year and thrown up from stress four times since last November. It might also be connected to coffee consumption, but if that’s true I’m ready to off myself because coffee is one of my few joys. Honestly, it’s probably a mix of both. I’m very healthy, very much okay.

I don’t know. Last year, I ended my little essay on a hopeful note. Here’s the thing, this may seem like very much just stream of consciousness bullshit but there is quite a bit of structuring I do and omissions I make. I didn’t talk about my struggles reconnecting with people and subsequently taking their irregular replies, because there’s a lot to get into there. There’s a lot I could’ve talked about, but no room. There’s a very specific flow, and I feel like any story, it needs a conclusion. So last year, through tears, I wrote a hopeful ending. It was as much for me as it was to the people reading it. Unfortunately, I don’t have it in it for me to conclude in the same fashion this time around.

The truth is, I need to feel okay. I need to feel like I’m good at something, anything, and be recognized for it.

Life is suffering and I’m just constantly going through the motions. I promise you, this stupid thing is 3k words and the second I’m done I’ll go back to working on my b**k even though today I literally started crying thinking about how shit it is. I’m just a tenacious individual. I persist. I don’t feel good about it, and I’m done with being genuinely hopeful, but there’s nothing to do but keep moving. I don’t know if my writing will get better or if I’ll ever get published or if this story is worth it. I don’t fucking know anything and I feel like shit. But what else am I going to do? I’ve been holding onto this hope that I’ll feel better about things for just so long and it hasn’t happened. But I’m not giving up lmao I’m just working with what I have. I am at my limit.

#mine #bean spews

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takadanobaba · 3 years

Text

Jin Norizuki’s Birthday PriZoom 7/18/2021

Oh the things I do for Jin Norizuki

That was SUCH an experience. I had a lot of fun!!

Main takeaway is that I am now acutely aware of when to YO in a song

(Okay so this is my first time attending a prizoom (or even any kinpri screening outside of Luna’s sss rabbit sessions!) so this is all entirely new to me and I can’t really compare it to much, but I figured that it’d be good to write up a report of sorts to fill in for Luna in a way!)

The prizooms are also accessible to everyone and don’t require any Japanese info confirmation!! If you’re interested in attending please go and support kinpri!!!

(Note: I think about Jin wayyyy too much and interpret them as nonbinary, so I use they/them pronouns for Jin. It’s just automatic for me at this point and feels weird otherwise haha so I’ll be doing that in this)

Jin is my all time favorite character and love of my life who I’m extremely delusional about so when a prizoom was announced for their birthday I went INSANE because I didn’t expect Jin’s birthday to be acknowledged AT ALL given how they’re usually excluded/treated like a side character (+ kinpri’s been putting out little to no content lately anyways....haha....). I was waiting in anticipation ever since it was announced (around June 6th) and even put in a time-off request for my work the day of its announcement just so I could attend!!!! ........ You can imagine my frustration at kinpri waiting until the very last minute to put out details about Jin’s prizoom ^^;

💙 💙 💙 💙 💙 💙

Also!! I’m a complete ~ foreigner ~ and managed to get tickets perfectly fine with my American credit card (and putting in some very obviously Not-An-Actual-Resident-Of-Japan address info...)! So if anyone’s curious about attending a prizoom but worried about region-locking, it’s possible! Very possible! If you’re interested in it, please go! You don’t need to have a Japanese phone number/credit card/address/etc. to purchase PriZoom tickets on RakutenTicket! It’s such an experience! If you need any help buying tickets then I’d be more than happy to assist!! Please support the PriZoom screenings and help increase the demand for more kinpri content!!!!!!!!!!!! I will personally become a living prizoom advertisement

(Also if any kinpri staff find this: I’m sorry for not respecting rules this time but I just wanted to provide a detailed account of the prizoom event and encourage participation for other foreign fans! I won’t do this again!!!)

💙 💙 💙 💙 💙 💙

I only attended the first and third showings (consisting of the first movie and Over the Sunshine!) because I wanted to see the new/not currently archived content (the second/pride the hero showing’s bonus was just Jin’s birthday video by Joji which I already revisit little too much ahaha). I also went to the chat-only rooms because I wasn’t very confident that I wouldn’t be awkward with my nonexistent cheering experience and intent to just observe what its like (despite knowing that the cheering rooms are more fun based on what Luna said haha). That, and I was planning on using the EXTREMELY OBNOXIOUS soundboard of ABSOLUTE CHAOS for everything since I have issues with voice dysphoria and figured it’d be good to stick to the room with that normalized as the one and only cheering method so participating would be a little less annoying to others, since we’d all have the same idea ^^;

I’m more active on twitter and follow/am mutuals with pretty much anybody who likes Jin enough to post about them, so it was cool seeing almost everyone there! At least half of them tweeted about this being their first prizoom haha. Jin’s birthday was also promoted as a good introduction to prizooms since the first showing was set at a price point of 718 yen instead of the usual 1,760 yen? So, lots of first timers attending! I guess most people had the same thought process as me about the whole insecure-about-not-being-used-to-proper-cheering/using-their-mic thing? Because most of my twitter following ended up in the chat-only rooms with me! Fun!

Also interesting how most people chose the male voice option for the cheering soundboard feature since there’s actually only 2 men who love Jin like that (I’m included in that number!!) in the Jin-obsessed twitter circle. I guess it was because it sounds kinda Joji-ish? and therefore fitting for an event dedicated to Jin! What with them being meant for each other and all.... Plus being Joji is just a fun way to play off having issues about using your own voice (I... project onto Joji a lot.)

👆 👆 👆

Okay I actually typed up all of the above during the second showing (since I wasn’t occupied attending that one) and everyone had the same train of thought and was definitely being Joji. You know that one “song” in Over the Sunshine- Glorious Schwarz- consisting of Joji just going wild infodumping for 3.5 minutes? Yeah EVERYONE who selected the male voice option was spamming 「おれもー！」/ “ME TOO!!!” during that (including me!). So it was like:

“I weighed 4646 grams at birth! ☆”

“MMMMEMEEMEMMT MEE ME MEEE EMME ME ME TOO M M ME TOO”

SO OBNOXIOUS. I LOVE IT. EVERYONE SHARING THE SAME BRAINCELL. THE JOJI BRAINCELL.

💙

The highlight of the prizoom (in my opinion) was when some guy repeatedly hit よっ！/ YO! to the music in the first movie, which then led to everyone having a collective ~ Realization ~

After that happened, everybody joined in and started YO!-ing along in the other lives. Beautiful.

(Blurred recording of Dramatic Love and Showcase Night just so YO!u can see what I mean.)

(I only did those two to test screen recording after failing to archive the first Jin bonus while using the soundboard feature in the first showing, initially I didn’t intend to record anything but the bonuses and will not be doing that anymore. If you attend, don’t be like me or worse!!!! Please!! I’ll delete these if needed/after a few weeks. Also just wanted to mention that Koi no Royal Straight Flush is up there in Kinpri’s Most YO!-able songs)

I love this soundboard feature. Sounds like hell. Prizooms are truely a new form of art because of it. Amazing how cheering screenings have evolved over a pandemic. Music feels empty to me without the YO!s now. After this I ended up listening to the entire kinpri discography so I could determine the YO!ability of each song. Not sure if every prizoom is like that? But I really want to go to more showings just for the community experience! I’m morbidly curious as to how many people would try to YO! to Platonic Sword. I considered going to Rei’s because they’re showing Shiny Rose Stars, but I probably won’t though since money and sleep are things (They really should make tickets no more than 1,000 yen.... they’re zoom meetings with audio problems....THE AUDIO ISSUES ARE FUN THOUGH! YOU CAN SPAM “GANBATTE” WITH EVERYONE!!) Plus while I do like every kinpri character, none of the street boys are really my favorites and going to every showing regardless of character would be a lot. I assumed that I was only going to try attending Joji’s until they announced that they were gonna do something for Jin!! So if you want to see what it’s like PLEASE get tickets and experience it for yourself!! It’s so much more fun participating !!!! Relying on 1-2 people to post event summaries isn’t exactly consistent coverage of every prizoom either!

\ よっ！/ \ よっ！/ \ よっ！/

So much of this is a community experience that you just have to see for yourself! It’s really cool seeing people go all out for their favorites and just going wild. Notable participants include:

- Two separate people just working out the entire time (one of them doing “Prism Exercise” meaning very high effort full-body cheering and dancing? It was really impressive seeing them go all-out for such a long time!)

- Two (2!) Ai cosplayers!!! One attending the prizoom with a Jin cosplayer!!

- The lady who cosplayed Jin in their cute green pre-retirement prism star outfit WITH A HUGE JIN PUPPET IN THE SAME STYLE AS THE SHUFFLE PUPPETS IN THE STAGEPLAY!!!

- That one person who just had a Minato fish head on the entire time (?!)

- A Victoria cosplayer who showed off a really nice!! drawing of Jin they did during the participant showcase at the end of the screenings

- The person with a REALLY CUTE!!!!! homemade Jin plushie!!

- Two people who attended with 3D/vtuber style models of the Go Go Glorious! (YMT29 subunit) members: Noel Tokyo and Mikado Shibuya (who also had a model of Ai!)

- A really cute Joji vtuber model!

💙 💙 💙 💙 💙 💙

The bonuses were Jin’s birthday video from 2016 and a birthday message of sorts from Jin!

I actually didn’t manage to properly archive the first one as intended because things went horribly wrong so I ended up with nothing but just a terrible (said affectionately) little recording of the soundboard I linked earlier. But whatever I shouldn’t be doing that anyways. Hopefully kinpri includes that and the other prizoom bonuses in something later.... the thought of any content being stuck as lost media terrifies me. I don’t have a good enough memory or a high enough Japanese proficiency level to type it out but it wasn’t particularly analyzable or anything (telling that to myself to make me feel better about losing it). Just the usual Jin being dramatic and going on an evil monologue. Jin being evil ASMR. I lovingly burned another one of Jin’s evil laughs into my mind too so there’s that.

For the 3rd showing bonus however I did not fail though it’s arguably the less interesting bonus of the two since it’s unvoiced. I really love Jin’s voice. Big sexy. Actual dialogue is pretty similar to each other from what I’ve gathered (ending with one of Jin’s cute little アーーーッハッハッハッ！！！！！’s (the text effect for the unvoiced bonus was an appreciated detail!).

(I’m not very confident in my ability to provide a good translation so I’ll just not embarrass myself)

“ AAAaAAaHAHAAHAAa ~ ! ! ! ! ! ! ! “

💙

Yes Jin I’ll support you in the future-!!! ヾ(>▽ <、 )

I’ll never not be obsessed but it’d still be nice to have more substantial content to gush about and do that with.... Kinpri come back and release an anime continuation.... give me the Jin plot development....kinpri come back my happiness is a little too reliant on you

After the showings you get an email asking for feedback which is cool! I’ve been waiting to complain about how 法月 is written as Noriduki instead of Norizuki for the longest time but I never had a chance until now haha. Makes it so painful for me to buy Jin merch. Also begged for an anime continuation. I wonder how much they take into account feedback? I guess I’ll see when/if they start writing Jin’s name how it’s supposed to be.

ANYWAYS

IF YOU WANT TO GO TO A PRIZOOM, DO IT!

Prism shows really are best experienced with a community!!! If you like kinpri it’s a GREAT OPPORTUNITY to experience what a cheering screening is like with the Japanese fanbase from the comfort of your very own home which is most likely nowhere near Japan!! Everyone should experience prism shows!!!! I have no regrets and I’m still so hyped from the prism sparkle!!!

ANYBODY CAN ATTEND AND BUY TICKETS EVEN WITHOUT JAPANESE INFORMATION!!!

\\ GLORIOUS SCHWARZ! //

#king of prism #jin norizuki #Err try not to spread around my recordings too much #Dont want the staff thinking badly of foreigners and region locking things haha #Kinpri_pr didn't even blur out their recording of the prizooms like me and they record everything for promo purposes anyways #But I'll probably remove mine after a bit anyways #me and my very concerning crush on jin #using joji as a self insert

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ghost-in-between · 4 years

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More Than Enough - Christmas Truce 2020

Merry Late Christmas @dailudannos! I’m sorry again that this is extremely late. Kinda funny thought that we had each other :D Hope you enjoy this sall piece. (I don’t think I’ve written Technus or Skulker ever for more than 2 lines, so I hope it’s still fun to read.)

Headaches were different for ghosts. Or maybe it was a weird personal thing for Technus. He hadn't asked. All he did know is that headaches sucked and being a ghost sucked and Christmas sucked.

Almost on autopilot, he was decorating the tree in the living room, putting ornaments too close together or too far apart. It wasn't his living room, or his tree, or his ornaments. The only reason he cared enough to put up with this was because Skulker had so nicely asked him to. Why he'd want to spend his time with Technus, he had no idea.

There wasn't much about him, really. He was the kind of person that was so lame that they try too hard to be cool. Skulker was the kind of person that was just cool without trying at all. Technus didn't know when they had started hanging out or how, but he still wasn't sure how much longer Skulker would want this. Neither was he sure how many more ornaments fit on this tree. Was this an appropriate amount yet? Probably. Maybe. Hopefully.

"Are you sure that's enough yet?"

Turning around, he was greeted by a smug grin, framed in metal. Unsure, he glanced at the tree, counting the ornaments silently, until he was interrupted by a chuckle.

"I was teasing you. It's more than enough.

Letting the air escape his lungs and coughing to hide his embarrassment, he closed the box of tree decorations. "I know that," he grumbled. A sudden increase in pain made his grip on the box loosen, but he managed not to drop it. Headaches always left a lingering wave of pressure rolling through his entire body. It was as though the pain didn't know to stay in one area.

Skulker grabbed the box from his hands and set it down by the table. "You good?" he asked, lightly masking his concern behind a grin.

Technus nodded, forcing a grin onto his face as well, dropping it the second the other turned away. Pretending to be cheerful for one holiday should really not be this hard. Music started playing from an old-timey record player, the tunes crackling gently as a Christmas song filled the air. "Oh, really? Is this necessary?" Technus wondered, less irritated about the song choice than the technology.

"Yes," Skulker confirmed, winking at him. Technus didn't have a response. "Be glad I didn't sign us up for the choir."

Oh god, the choir. Technus remembered hearing other ghosts talk about it. It might have also been in the weird newspaper that Ghost Writer has been sending out. He didn't care much for it. All it did was give him more headaches. "Yeah," he agreed, sinking into the couch. "I wouldn't have joined if you'd signed us up though."

Picking up some green and red lights, Skulker chuckled. "You think I would have given you a choice?"

"I would have simply not done it." Technus shrugged, watching the other finish up the decorations, by hand, no ghost powers.

"That's what you think." Skulker fiddled with the lights, getting them tangled up. "But-" He tugged on them. "In reality-" They got even more tangled. "You would have- ugh." He threw the lights on the ground in frustration. "Stupid lights."

"Here let me." Technus got up and swiftly pulled them apart, handing one end over to Skulker so they could hang it up together. He didn't get a thank you, but the fact that Skulker quietly accepted his help told him enough. The hunter was tough but he never failed to remind Technus of his soft side. It made him feel special. But it also scared him.

"I think that's all the lights I had left. I put some outside. Remind me to take them down again as soon as Christmas passed."

Technus nodded as he returned to his position on the couch. Couldn't have anyone see Skulker being a sucker for Christmas decorations of course. Another spike of pain made him screw his eyes shut, pushing himself into the cushions. Why did he have to be plagued by headaches, all the time? Part of him felt like he knew what caused them, but it was buried somewhere in his mind and he didn't have the energy to dig it out.

"What's wrong?"

Opening his eyes, he was met with the sight of Skulker, looking at him suspiciously.

"Nothing." He forced himself to loosen his shoulders and shake off the pain. "The record player is just painful to look at." Skulker rolled his eyes at the comment. "Shouldn't you like all technology?"

Technus crossed his arms. "I have standards."

"So do I, that's why you're here."

Taken aback by the compliment – flirt? – Technus blinked and shook his head. Skulker did love to tease him. "Because I have standards and won't spend Christmas Eve without anyone to admire by epic power and wit?"

Skulker pushed him lightly, or at least lightly for him. "Me? Admire your power and wit? Dream on."

He know it was a joke, a tease. But then why did it feel like a jab between his ribs? "Ah, of course," he said, intending to make it sounds confident and like he was playing along to the joke. Instead it came out sounding bland and disappointing.

Skulker looked the tiniest bit horrified, uncomfortable, like he didn't expect this response and now had to think really hard on how to react. "I mean, you-" He cut himself off. Had he realized it was the truth?

The headache was a constant pounding by now, shaking his limbs. This was beyond stupid. He was letting his own thoughts get him down, on Christmas Eve, a day that was supposed to be cozy and nice, apparently. He didn't get the hype, really. A knock on the door interrupted the awkward situation and Technus quickly got up to check the door. Only on Christmas would he ever witness anyone actually knocking before entering. Swinging the door open, he was met by the sight of Ember and a bunch of other ghosts, wearing Christmas hats. Before he could say anything they took a deep inhale and started singing.

"Oh, please no."

Skulker came up behind him, looking torn between being amused and irritated. "Guess you couldn't escape them fully, after all."

Technus felt him look at him from the side, hoping his expression wasn't betraying how tired he felt and how much he regretted not saying no to today. It was silly, maybe. One day wasn't so bad, one song from a choir of people that wouldn't have stopped by his lair anyway. Not that he would have wanted that. Of course not.

Suddenly he was being pushed back inside, before Skulker said "Thanks, Merry Christmas!" and shut the door on the other ghosts.

"What-" Technus looked at Skulker, at the door, then back at Skulker. "Why did you do that? I thought you enjoyed it?"

"But you weren't."

Taken aback, Technus focused his gaze on the wall behind to Skulker, unsure what to say. The pain in his head felt loud. As a ghost, he didn't need to sleep, yet he felt so, so tired.

"Why did you come?"

"What?"

Skulker was mustering him, like he was trying to analyze his thoughts. He was glad that telepathy was an uncommon ghost power. "You don't like Christmas, so why did you come here today."

He thought about it, thought about his feelings for the holiday, about his feelings for Skulker, about the constant ache in his body that reminded him that he was different from the technology he controlled. "I don't know," he admitted.

Nodding, Skulker sat back down on the couch, patting the space next to him. Afraid of what was going through the other's head, Technus hesitantly complied. He opened his mouth to say something, apologize, maybe, but Skulker was faster.

"It's okay. I think I need to apologize."

Wait, what? Technus was so surprised even his head seemed to clear for a moment of confusion.

"Don't give me that look. Listen-" Skulker looked directly at him, unafraid. "I think I've been taking you for granted."

"What, no-"

"Please. Let me finish, alright?"

Technus nodded.

"I've been taking you for granted because I assumed if I enjoy hanging out with you, then so do you." Technus felt the movement on the couch as Skulker shifted. "And not just that. I've been assuming that if you tell me you're fine, you are fine. But you're not like that, are you?"

Looking away, Technus shrugged. He wasn't the tough one. It didn't really matter, did it?

"Hey, I know I'm the one wearing a metal suit, but you're the one that makes himself untouchable. You can tell me when something is wrong, you know?"

It sounded so foreign to him, yet the concept seemed familiar. He was untouchable when he encased himself in hardware or when he turned intangible, but was he untouchable as a person? Was he even still a person? As if in response, an invisible knife plunged into his head, making him stop the habit of pulling hair in through his nose. Yes, it seemed to say. Just because he died, he wasn't not a person anymore. He still felt pain, just a little differently.

Glancing at Skulker, who looked so genuine that it was hard to imagine him on the hunt, he sighed. It was Christmas, he was here, the lights on the tree shining on them and mixing with their own glow. Would a bit of honesty, a bit of showing weakness even be able to ruin this?

"I just," he closed his eyes for a moment. "I just have a terrible headache." Skulker seemed surprised, whether it was at the fact that he was troubled by a headache or that his words had gotten through to him somehow, he didn't know. "And I'm tired," Technus continued. "And I don't like Christmas." Before Skulker could reply, he smiled at him. "But," The headache was still pounding in his head, but he felt like he was letting himself be wrapped in a blanket. "I guess I'd still rather be tired here with you, than alone. So if you still like me when I'm weak and lame-"

Skulker took his head , effectively making him shut his mouth. "I like you how you are, strong and interesting and right here."

And Technus believed him.

#christmas truce 2020 #christmas truce #secret santa #danny phantom #skulker #technus #i'm so sorry #this is later than late

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kittae · 5 years

Text

Bittersweet

Pairing: Seokjin x reader

Genre: Fluff, romance, angst, fantasy, Mermaid!reader, Hotelier!Seokjin

Words: 2222

Summary: A ‘The Little Mermaid’ x ‘Cinderella’ crossover variation. After dreaming of the human world for almost all of your life, your first night as one of them has finally come. You discover and do so many things for the first time! You also meet someone special. It comes to an end much too quickly again, however, leaving your feelings scattered all over the place and your memories bittersweet.

Your heart has never beat this hard in your entire life. This is it. This is why you’ve risked it all. The exuberant energy seems to make the air vibrate, your senses overwhelmed in the best ways possible. Everything is so unfamiliar, yet so exciting! You vaguely recognize some items in the room, though it’s your first time actually discovering what they are for. As it turns out, the things with sharp ends are used to stab food with, so it’s easier to navigate it inside your mouth! Who would’ve thought?! And this...this sound. You can’t place it, but it’s so pleasing to hear. You keep looking around to see where it comes from, but it seems to be everywhere. People are standing up and moving their bodies to it in a way that fits. You have an urge to do what they do, because it looks fun, but you don’t. You haven’t even mastered walking properly yet and what they’re doing looks hard...

You admit, you feel a tad bit guilty about stealing garments, but you had no choice. Humans apparently can’t go without covering their bodies, so you knew you would stand out way too much if you didn’t follow their example. By now, you know the thing you’re wearing is called a dress and you’ve also tried wearing...wait, what’s it called again? Shoes? Or was it heels? They were impossible, though. They made your already wonky legs even wonkier, so you left them behind. You’re relieved to see other people also going barefoot. They like the feeling of sand between their toes, just like you do. Toes. Isn’t it crazy? You have toes! Toes, feet, ankles, knees, legs! You can walk and run and… Maybe one day, do that thing people do to this fun sound!

Maybe it’s too risky to attend a human party on your first day being transformed, but you just couldn’t help yourself. You saw an opportunity and you took it. After always wondering what it would be like, this just really exceeds all expectations. There are colorful lights, delicious food and so many new sensations for you to discover! A new world is opening up to you and nobody suspects a thing. Perched on a chair at a table, you observe everything and everyone with big eyes. Nobody questions who you are or what you’re doing here.

Too engrossed in your surroundings, you barely notice the waitress going around and balancing as many drinks as the tray can fit.

“Excuse me, miss?” She gently demands your attention, “Would you like a glass?”

You can barely contain your excitement as you shyly nod and take one from the tray, marveling over it as you hold in in front of you. You gasp when you notice that it sparkles, tiny bubbles rapidly rising from the bottom of the glass to the surface! Is it really okay to drink this?

Almost pressing your eye against the glass trying to inspect the bubbles more closely, you break out in giggles when you notice everything looks funny and distorted. You look around the room this way, laughter bubbling in your throat the whole time. You could spend all night just doing this!

The night seems to have other plans for you, however, when you spot a tall figure in the corner. You lower the glass so you could see normally again, to get a better look at the person who caught your attention. He’s not just tall… He’s incredibly handsome, too. You don’t think you’ve ever seen a face like his before.

His eyes fold adorably when he laughs, lips full and plush when he speaks, forehead peeping out teasingly when he shakes his head and his dark brown hair sways a bit. You’ve gone completely slack-jawed without your knowledge as you stare at him in awe, mesmerized by his little mannerisms. You wish the music would stop for a moment, just so you could hear the sound his laughter makes when it’s accompanied by his shaking, wide shoulders. It’s quite contagious, seeing as you can’t help the corners of your own lips from curling into a smile as well.

You quickly avert your gaze when he turns his head in your direction, face heating up while you wonder whether or not he caught you staring. You take a large gulp from your bubble drink to give yourself some posture, yet that backfires when it goes down the wrong way. Coughing and with tears in your eyes, panic rises when you watch him approach until he stands right in front of you.

“Is everything alright, miss? Do you need a glass of water?” He asks, a worried tone lacing his voice. It’s dulled by the loud bass of the music, but it still sends shivers down your skin.

Shaking your head, maybe a bit too vigorously, you dismiss his concern even though you continue to gasp for air in between heavy coughs. He reaches for the carafe with still water anyway, plucking a clean glass from a table and filling it before handing it over to you.

You gratefully accept, chugging down the water in mere seconds and relieving the ache in your throat.

“Better?” He smiles, content to see you’ve stopped coughing and are breathing normally again.

Nodding quietly, you try to figure out how to keep your heart from beating so fast. You feel embarrassed and entirely too self-conscious to speak.

“Good!” He beams, his eyes crinkling in that cute way again. “Are you a friend or family of the bride?”

“I- what?” You ask, a bit caught off guard before you quickly recover, “Ah- yes! Yes, I am. A...friend. And you are…?”

He gives himself a knock on the head, “I’m so sorry! I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Seokjin, I own this hotel. Also the groom’s best friend. And the world’s best looking man.”

“Wow, really?” You gasp, “How impressive!”

Seokjin chuckles. “One of those three things is not entirely true, though. Can you guess which one?” You shrug, not a clue which one to pick. All of them sound plausible.

“I’m the groom’s cousin, not his best friend. The rest is nothing but the truth, though.” He winks and your heart stutters. “I don’t think I caught your name earlier…?”

“___,” You give him your name, your hand flat on your cheek in an attempt to cool it down.

“___,” He repeats, you name suddenly sounding much more beautiful than you’re used to. “I haven’t seen you dancing tonight, ___. Do your feet hurt?”

Dancing….dancing? Is that what these people are doing? You decide to take the risk and be honest. “Ah, no… I just… don’t really know how to…”

He notices your embarrassment, “That’s okay! I’m not exactly a dancing prodigy either. I took some classes, though. Want me to show you?”

Beyond relieved that ‘dancing’ wasn’t something all humans naturally knew how to do, you nod eagerly. You’ve been wanting to try it all night!

Seokjin leads you towards the open space in the room, where other people are twirling and hugging each other as they move.

“Don’t let the dancefloor or the others intimidate you, okay? Don’t look at what they’re doing, let’s just focus on each other at our own pace.”

His hand moves to curl around your waist, eyes seeking yours and silently asking if this is okay. You smile in lieu of an answer, which he takes as a confirmation. He then gently places your hands on his generous shoulders, the heat in your face increasing even further.

Leaning over to reach your ear, his lips only a hairbreadth away, he says, “Just follow my lead. I’ll go slow.”

It’s hard not to interpret his words in a less innocent way, your heart beating wildly in your chest as you simply nod, lost for words. Luckily, it seems talking isn’t really necessary when you dance. Seokjin starts with some simple moves, his hips gently swaying and his feet stepping back and forth. You assume you need to mimic what he does, and you’re surprised to find how naturally it comes. Still, your legs aren’t experienced yet and even standing straight sometimes proves to be a challenge for your brain that’s used to directing the movement of fins in water.

This slight anxiety slowly ebs away, though, when Seokjin appears to be a reliable dance partner as he pulls you close and holds you tight, as if he silently promises he would never let you fall. You don’t know why you trust him this much, but you do. You feel free.

“See? You’re a natural!” He laughs when you’re twirling across the dance floor almost effortlessly within a couple of minutes.

You’re having so much fun, you almost forget how intimidatingly handsome Seokjin is. Almost. Because when you lift your head up after watching your feet move in fascination, you’re reminded of that fact once again. Up close, his beauty is even more dizzying. You make out small details, like the color of his eyes, the length of his eyelashes, how flawless his skin is. He smells so nice, too.

Distracted by his stunning facial features, you miss a step and lose your balance. Seokjin catches you in time, as expected, eyes wide in surprise as you lay back in his arms.

“Are you okay?” He asks, “Did you get hurt?”

“I- I’m fine! I just slipped…”

Seokjin carefully helps you upright again, suggesting you’d both take a break. As you stroll out of the large party tent, the beauty of the beach reveals itself in all its glory. The full moon stands bright and tall amidst the dark night, guiding the waves of the ocean you know so well.

“Aren’t you cold?” Seokjin asks after a few minutes of walking next to you as you talk about the evening, about yourselves. You mostly listen to what he says, since you’re not sure about what you should tell him about yourself and you just enjoy hearing about him.

You shake your head, gesturing with the large scarf you’ve draped over your shoulders, “I’m okay, I have this.”

He hums, but suddenly stops walking. “___, I- I’ve had a wonderful night so far and I think you’re really great...um… I’d like to see you again after this and I was wondering–”

A ringing sound abruptly interrupts him, making your ears perk up in curiosity. Seokjin apologizes as he fishes a weird, small box out of his pocket to press it to his ear. He even speaks to it!

“This better be important. You- what?! Right now? Okay, I’ll be there in a moment. Try to keep things under control until I’m there. Yeah.”

You don’t understand a single thing about what just happened or why he was talking to this strange object, but it made you even more curious. Seokjin, however, looks distressed. Did the box do something to him?

“I’m so sorry, ___, I need to go back to the party to solve a problem… Would you… Would you mind waiting here for a couple of minutes? I really won’t be long, I promise.”

You nod, “No worries! I don’t mind waiting.”

“I’ll be back in no time!” He smiles, grabbing your hand a leaving a swift, cheeky kiss behind before he dashes through the sand in the direction where you came from.

You stand perplexed, staring at your hand like it’s suddenly no longer a part of your body. This entire night feels like a dream, an incredible, wonderful dream. One you never want to end.

Sadly, reality hits you hard, and your feet are being put firmly back on the ground when you notice how the moon isn’t the only thing reflected in the dark ocean anymore. The sun has started to rise, shyly peeking out above the horizon and creating a dark blue gradient inside the black sky.

You start to get anxious, knowing it’s only a matter of minutes now. Having had so much fun, time has flown by so quickly you hadn’t even thought about it. You can’t stay here. You can’t wait for him like you told him, and it’s already breaking your heart.

This is the hardest Seokjin has ever run in his entire life, he believes. The minor problem was resolved quickly, so he could return to you fast, as he promised. Early mornings at the beach can be very cold this time of the year, so he grabbed a coat before he left. He imagines the scarf probably doesn’t do much keep you warm.

Confusion strikes him when he arrives at the place he left you only fifteen minutes ago. You’re nowhere to be seen, not even in the distance. Your scarf, made from a thin, pink fabric, got caught on a pole and bellows in the wind. He takes it in his hands, frantically looking around the beach in hopes of catching a glimpse of you. The wind carries his voice as he calls out your name while he runs across the length of the beach, not knowing you could hear him from inside the water, further in the ocean. Hot tears join the sloshing waves as they retract together with you, away from the beach, away from Seokjin. Until the next full moon.

#bts #bts scenarios #bts fanfiction #kim seokjin #jin scenario #seokjin #bts fanfic #jin fanfic #seokjin fanfiction #jin #kim seokjin scenario #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #bts x reader #bts au

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datingintampafails · 4 years

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Chapter 16: Ethan*: Part One

Ethan* was the one where when I said to my friends, “I don’t want to have to write a stupid ‘dating in Tampa’ chapter about this guy…. He’s a good egg.” But here I am, writing it.

I matched with Ethan* on Bumble during a super busy work week, we chatted about things briefly on the app, and I mentioned that I might be able to do a video chat rather than an in-person date easier that week because of my schedule. He agreed to it and asked if that night would work. So our first date is a rather spontaneous video date. I made dinner for myself and was eating it about 20 minutes before our time we picked up, when a piece of mozzarella got stuck in my throat and I was choking. I managed to dislodge the mozzarella cheese stuck in my throat, but was afraid my voice might be weird since I had just stuck my hand down my throat to save my own life.

He had said that he tended to be a little awkward on the phone. Despite the disclaimer, I found him to be perfectly fine on the phone. I told him about my near death experience prior to the call, and we had a laugh about it. We gave each other tours of our homes. He owns his and has completely renovated his place, which is pretty cool. I admired the handiwork of his home, especially the “shiny floors” that he had redone. I learn some quirks about him, such as being homeschooled until college and that he doesn’t like chocolate (weird). He also had mentioned that he was born in Northern Virginia, about ten minutes away from where I grew up and lived there until he was five, before moving to St. Pete. He never had typical pets, but did take care of some squirrels and some lizards, straight Florida kid shit. We ended the call recognizing we got along and generally understood each other. I knew he was 26 but turns out that I was like ten days short of exactly a year older. He immediately after said he was “excited to hang out... soon.” and that we seem to have a lot in common. Agreed.

I let him know that I have some questions for him before that, but that I’ll get to them. The next day, rather than doing that, my friend Lauren inspires me to make a legitimate dating application. I create this thorough Google form, which includes serious questions, as well as some less serious questions which are unfortunately inspired by my previous dating experience, i.e. do you chew with your mouth open? are you a warlock?, etc. I send this to him, and he hesitantly does it after I ask him to. His comment at the end is “I thought this was dumb, but I actually had fun.” From this form, I learn that truly Ethan* does have some similar goals to me. He also doesn’t want children. I ask what people are looking for and he responds with “Unsure yet, but I am open to anything from casual friends with benefits all the way up to a long term relationship if we are a good match. I don't have any future goals but I enjoy companionship and sex and seek these out in a partner.“ Seems like a fair expectation, which is kind of where I am at too. I send that same application to different people that I’ve matched with at the time, but Ethan* is definitely my front runner.

This guy didn’t really match up to my usual douchebag energy guy I usually go for. He was a college athlete, wide receiver and ran track, and definitely still kept up with his physique. He had curly bronde hair that was slightly receding on the sides, a six-pack, and nicely sculpted shoulders and back. I knew ahead of time he was on the shorter side, that is, not over six feet tall. He owns a boat and also has a pilot’s license and flies planes for fun. Things that were definitely unique and super cool. He asked me if I would ever go flying with him, to which I enthusiastically said that would be cool. He didn’t know that learning to fly is also something on my bucket list, I would actually never have the chance to tell him.

That weekend, a few days after our virtual date, I was finally done with my marathon of working long days and said I would be down for meeting up. He mentions his plans with his friends were canceled that night, and we decide to do something that night. I let him know I have an appointment and can come over after that, around 6. We discuss what we are going to do, we decide on a night in. I suggest tacos, however, he responds by asking if I like Chipotle. I inform him that since we live in a place where there are much greater options for local taco places, which aren’t Chipotle and basic, we should get that instead. He then suggests a place by him we can go to, and we agree on that. However, this is also coming from a guy who said Papa Johns was his favorite type of pizza. With pineapple.

I go for a comfy but not trying too hard look for that night. Some athletic leggings from Uniqlo, and a crop top. Ironically, I believe that exact ensemble is in one of my photos on Bumble, in hindsight. I excitedly text him about it being 7/11, which is free slurpee day, and ask if we can go. He says there’s a 7 Eleven by him that we can go to. I finished my appointment, which was actually a lip and eyebrow wax, and drove to his place. He asks me to park on the street so that he can drive his car to the taco place, and I sarcastically tell him that he’s going to have to drive around my car in the driveway. I then mention I’m on the way and will see him soon.

Usually, by the time I am going to meet someone in person, I have given them my number or other ways to contact me outside of the original app. My friend had suggested to me that I try to stay on these apps communication wise, until a successful first date. I was trying to follow this advice and since Ethan* and I were still communicating exclusively on Bumble, I was following that advice. Granted, he hadn’t really asked me either to change communication methods, so it worked out.

I message him “Aqui” when I pull up to his house, and as I start to get my things out of my car he emerges from the front door to greet me. Immediately as I walk up and analyze him, I feel bad as a wave of disappointment falls over me. He in no way lied about his height on his profile, but definitely I overestimated how tall his height was. Otherwise, he was 100% authentic and who he said he was. He meekly asks about my appointment and if everything is okay, specifically asking if it was a doctors’ appointment. I admit I was actually getting a wax, then he compliments me saying that my brows look really nice and he otherwise wouldn’t have said anything as it would seem weird.

I then say I’m hungry and we should go get food. I get out to his car, which is a super nice Jeep Grand Cherokee, with a leather interior. Despite the nice car, I look down at the floor of the passenger seat, which is entirely covered in discard receipts.

I mention this to him, and he gets super embarrassed about forgetting to clear his car before I arrived. Upon looking at the receipts as I help him clean, I recognize many of them are from Taco Bell. We bond however over the amazingness of Baja Blast being the ultimate drink. I insist we go to 7 Eleven first to get our slurpees, since I don’t want the food getting cold/soggy. We find out it isn’t really free slurpee day, due to COVID-19, and instead it’s a get a medium free next time with your membership there or something. So I get a medium anyway, so at least mine is free.

Next, we pull up to the taco joint, which is basically you walk up to a door to order. We discuss the menu and agree that fish is gross. He orders for us both, which I love, and sit briefly at a colorful picnic table outside of the restaurant. We are there not even one minute, when he asks if we can go to the little market that’s next to the restaurant. I say sure, and we browse the market. He picks up some apples and some grapes, and we just sort of look around. We are joking around and I quiz him on the “best type of apple,” which is sort of an inside joke at my full time job.

He finishes his purchases and we sit at a different picnic table, while waiting again for our food. They bring it out and we take it back to his place. In the car he’s going between rap and pop music. I’m more or less into anything but country, so it’s a fair vibe. I figure since he was on a football team, that was probably what he was used to listening to in the locker room.

Now that we’re back at his place, I excuse myself to the restroom. A man’s private restroom always says something about the man. Does he clean his bathroom? How many products does he have? Does he have that singular shampoo/conditioner/body wash combo bottle in his shower? His toilet definitely could use a scrub, same with his shower, but otherwise pretty well kept and he had separate products in his shower.

I’m still feeling iffy about the guy due to his height, and when I sit down on the cough with him, he asks if I like South Park. Unfortunately we find out that South Park has been taken off Hulu and so we look for a back up. Then he asks about Rick and Morty; I love that show, so we turn that on for us to watch while we eat. He too is a couch eater, which is good since his dining table literally has no chairs around it.

We share some laughs, we eat the food, we drink the slurpees. Once there’s no longer food to eat, he asks if I want to cuddle. I say “uhm okay.” I remember a message he had sent me the day before where I said I hope he doesn’t try to cuddle in my lap like my dog, and he had responded “what if I did? jk. but really do you like to cuddle?” And I’m wondering if I’ve gotten myself into a stage 5 clinger situation. Somehow I become like the guy, as he is nuzzled onto my belly and I have my arm around him. Later he asks to spoon, and I’m like yeah that’s fine. As I’m sure that’s less awkward than what we’re doing now. Though if I wasn’t so uncertain about him, the previous position probably would have been cute and endearing. While we were cuddling, we talked about goals and briefly about my application. He talks more about how he flies planes on the side, and that his goal is to join the National Guard as a pilot. The cut off is 32, so essentially he wanted to gain more and more flying experience so he could join before the cutoff. I have never really been particularly interested in being involved with someone in the military, so that was almost a turn off for me. However, I did this it was good that he had solid goals he was continually working on.

Regardless, I’m still having a good time. He’s a nice and entertaining guy, and we mesh well. It starts to get late, so I mention it’s time I go. Before I leave, I remember we have still only been talking via Bumble, I ask him for his number. I then realize I also don’t know his last name, so I also ask for his last name. I realize his initials are “Eh,” which I find humorous, so I text him “eh” to let him know it’s me. Which also described how I was feeling at that moment.

He then walks me to my car and I give him a hug, and then he kisses me. Even though I wasn’t really feeling kissy after this date, I realize it is actually a really nice kiss and tell him I’ll let him know when I get home. I think back to Aaron* where he wasn’t the best kisser, and think oh well that’s nice.

I get home and stew over the date, thinking about what I’m going to do about this guy. He texts me the next day saying “Would it be bad if I already wanted to see you again tonight?” I tell him I have plans, which isn’t a lie, I do, and let him know I’m free the next night. We set up another hang out at his place.

In my mind, I determine the way I’ll figure out my feelings is to sleep with him. “If the sex is good,” I think to myself, “then that should get me over the height thing. And if it’s terrible, then I’m outtie anyway.”

#tampa #dating #tampabay #st pete fl #florida #love #bumble #relationship

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astralshipper · 5 years

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OKAY HI IM SORRY I HAVENT BEEN ON IN A COUPLE DAYS REALLY!! i had midterms the past two days so i have been. stressing. BUT the worst of them are over! while i was gone i got tagged in that new selfship tag game a couple times (thank u k and aricka!!!) and ALSO HELLO IF U HAVE TAGGED ME IN APPRECIATION POSTS U ARE ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLE AND I APPRECIATE U SO SO MUCH!!! THANK U SO MUCH!! okay! gonna do the self ship tag under the cut!! doing it as astrael bc Fun :000

KEY: Italics is Astrael. Bold is Sam.

Introduce yourselves. Who are you? What do you like to do? Hi! I’m Astrael, I’m an angel of the lord, and all that fun stuff. I like music a lot, and I’m really into art, even though I’m not the best at it. I also really love reading and writing! Those rare nights that we can just hang out in the silent bunker and dive into a good book, they’re the best nights for sure. Hey, my name’s Sam, I’m a hunter. Like, “things that go bump in the night” kind of hunter, not the Bambi kind, heh. When we aren’t out on a hunt or stopping the world from going off the rails for the seventeenth time this week, I really like reading and history. True crime stuff is really interesting to me, and I’m a huge fan of ancient lore and really just any knowledge I can get my hands on, you know? If I’ve got the time, watching football is always a good way to spend an evening too.

How was your first meeting like? Oh, dad, I don’t know if I wanna really say... it’s kinda embarrassing. So, I kinda... searched him down? Not in like! A creepy way! I’m an angel, right? So, Sammy boy over here was supposed to be big bro Lucifer’s vessel for the apocalypse. Big family dinner drama and all that. So, us angels were tasked with basically... trying to kick his ass at any point possible. Ha! That didn’t work out too well, did it? So, yeah, she found me at this library while Dean and I were working a case. She didn’t tell me what she was or who she was, but she ended up helping me with the case and we got to talking for a while. Then, Dean called me, and I had to run before I could get any contact information. Not that you needed it anyways. You were friends with my brother already, luckily. I had found him because I wanted to see who this big bad evil guy was that everyone was talking about, and I... didn’t expect this... giant puppy, basically. Hey!

How did you get together? Who confessed first? Oh god, this one... Listen, I didn’t MEAN for this to be how it went down! What he’s trying to tell you is, he’s the one that confessed at the absolute worst possible time. Okay, well, I thought you were gonna die so I wasn’t exactly thinking straight. The words just kinda came out, alright?

What are your thoughts on PDA? Believe it or not, I’m... kinda shy. So I worry a lot about making people uncomfortable. That’s not that I don’t WANT to be affectionate with Sam in public. And that’s where I come in. Hi. Most PDA is initiated by me, somehow.

How do you show your affection towards each other/what are your love languages? Sam reacts best to acts of service, I feel like. Though, different moods tend to call for different things. If it’s general love, it’s more of the acts of service. If he’s scared or worried, it’s more physical affection. I show my affection mostly through physical affection and verbal affirmations, since that’s usually what Astra prefers. But I’m big on performing acts of service too.

Who's more introverted and who's more extroverted? We’re both introverts. Oh, but you KNOW you’re the more extroverted one. You can handle being around people way longer than I can. Well, yeah, but it’s not my favorite thing in the world. We took that, uh, personality type test? I’m INFJ, she’s INFP. Just in case that means something to you guys.

Who's the big spoon and who's the little spoon? I’m big spoon. Okay, not ALWAYS. Don’t say it so intensely like that. Nope, it’s definitely always me. Sam, baby, you aren’t fooling anybody. That, like, 5% of times that you’re the little spoon doesn’t make you any less of a man. Can we please move on?

What do you like doing together the most? Reading! Netflix! Making fun of Dean! Sleeping! That’s YOUR favorite, angel.

Tell us a fun fact about the other! Ooooh, okay. Well, Astra takes notes in her books as she reads them. Like, keeps a pencil with her and writes notes on the sides of pages. I have no idea what she’s taking notes on, but I don’t think she knows that we’re not in grade school and she doesn’t have to do the annotations anymore. I trusted you with that information and you betray me. I can’t believe this... Just for that, hi everyone, Sam once tore the whole bunker apart because he couldn’t find this one specific damn flannel, as if he didn’t have seventy other identical ones hanging up in the closet already. Also, I’m an angel, I never went to grade school, asshole. Check and mate. I don’t think that sounded quite as cool and intimidating as you wanted it to.

Tag other selfshippers and their f/os. anybody that wants to!!!!!

#long post tw #long post #tag game #supernaturally soulmates #THANK U GUYS SM!!!#UR WONDERFUL

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hhhongseok · 5 years

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PENTAGON: First Impressions VS Now!

since it's ptg's 3rd anniversary, and i've been an uni for over a year now, i thought it would be a fun idea to compare my first thoughts about all the members to how i think of them now! i got the idea from i got7 inspirits on youtube, so check them out if you're interested!

OT10

then:

I first heard "gorilla" back when it released, but since i avoided stanning rookies at the time- i decided to give it some time before stanning. flash foward to august 2018 where my interest is piqued again. at that time last year, i had thought that they were pretty cute but having literally only heard gorilla and then shine, i was caught off guard by their sound change. It wasn't bad per say- just different. overall, i knew pentagon would be a group that i'd like- but more along the lines of a casual thing.

now:

y'all already know how whipped i am for these idiots!!! their music and videos and even choreos are my style completely, especially their cute concepts!! we love dancing infants! and also, they're all such throughly good people which makes me so happy. this isn't a casual stan thing in the slightest, and it's funny to think I ever believed it would be.

Hui:

then:

when i saw him in shine, i thought he was a d o r k. i think it was the way they styled his hair, but i was just very convinced that he was pretty lame lmao. after that though, i saw how cute he was and he became my bias for a while. i remember thinking at one point that he seemed like an exasperated dad?? i didn't really have any basis for it but that observation was there nonetheless.

now:

exasperated dad? more like hyper 3 year old. hes literally one of the loudest and most energetic. what was i on. but i think hes the most precious and clingiest little toddler now!! i was right about the dork thing though, but its super cute how goofy and lame he is. also!! talent for days!! his dancing, singing (his falsetto is !!), composing is all incredible. the most important thing though? a godly leader. he's so caring and kind and full of love for his members it hurts me. we don't really see a serious leader hui, but thats okay because i think it means he tries to keep uni and ptg in good spirits by showing them cheerfulness. and that's amazing to me.

Jinho:

then:

my most notable thought about jinho in shine was "how is he that small". i remember thinking it was cute how he pushed the giant one too, lmao. i didn't think much else of him beyond that, other than noticing how adorable he can be.

now:

ok yeah, jinho is cute and tiny and whatever- but now i Understand the power that he holds. how he looks with his hair pushed back for example. or how about that bruno mars cover he did with hui. (hhhhnngg). also?? he's not even That small. the ones that make him look itty bitty are Literally just giants. but aside from his appearance, jinho is probably my favorite vocalist like!! i appreciate him s o much. (listen to his cover of gethsemane and last night of october for clear skin) of course jinho is also very cute though!! so i was right about that at least! he just also has many other great sides to him that i worry are overlooked!

Hongseok:

then:

i didn't,,,notice him. at ALL. like i just glossed over his existence completely when i first saw shine. and even after that- it took me a minute to pay him any mind. when i did finally notice him though, i noticed his smile. i remember i was watching videos with my girlfriend and i pointed him out to her! that was mostly because i felt bad for not really having any strong opinion on him though oops. anyways i ended up just thinking he was a mom. and i was really impressed by his english and strength.

now:

real talk, it pained me to write all of that out!! bc now?? omg hong is my everything- but thats kind of obvious. anyways!! hes so f u nn y !!! its absolutely a stupid kind of funny and hes definitely annoying but i adore it. also the mom thing is only kind of true. he has the capacity to be maternal and take care of them, but he's way more likely to make fun of literally every single member. he's more like an older brother that never leaves his siblings alone and thinks he's funnier than he is. and we hate him for it. anyways, his voice is So underrated im. angery. he has such a beautiful voice, just in general, and on top of that- his singing is lovely. like yes, more hong solo please.

Hyojong:

then:

i definitely took note of him immediately! his voice is very distinctive, and he stands out a lot in shine. which is really saying something. i thought he was really talented for sure! and i almost felt he was too cool for me to be looking at. i kind of got the vibe he'd be pretty icy i guess?

now:

he's not intimidating at all. like not even a little bit. bc he's not taking himself as seriously as i thought he was lmao. also hes so l o u d . and a plant man. but i think the best thing about edawn is his unpredictability! i never really know what to expect from him and i like that.

Shinwon:

then:

i thought he was HOT. i already thought he was handsome in the 0.3 seconds of screentime he got in shine. but a friend of mine showed me clips of him from that couples game video and. o o f. i really couldn't get over how pretty he was. it didn't help that this was the same video where him and kino were doing that dance. personality wise, i don't remember much standing out to me. other than how easily scared he is.

now:

shinwon is soooo embarrassing. i wouldn't say hes completely shameless about it though, but he's shameless to the point of actually doing the stupid shit so im. still enraged about it. he legitimately makes me physically look away sometimes when im watching a video and he's being weird. theyre all my kids, and i love them. but he's the child im ashamed of lmao. moving on, hes a real cutie pie. that fact that he gets so scared so easily is both really funny and super endearing. but he's just a playful baby and im honestly glad that hes has so much fun.

Changgu:

then:

i noticed him less than hongseok. like i dont think i had a single notable first impression of him.

now:

past dess was one entire Doofus huh. like changgu is a whole ass blessing to this planet and you mean to tell me that she overlooked him??!! anyways, though, he has an elephant heart for sure. such a genuinely empathetic and truly kind person!! he never fails to warm my heart with his sincerity and i love that about him. he's also part of the idiot squad though, with how he goes along with hong's antics. we hate that. and all his impressions + dumb faces. speaking of faces though,,, his acting?? i love it!! he's really talented, like when i watch pretty pretty i kind of forget that changgu is even playing a role. and his d a n c i n g!! underrated dance king! underrated king in general, how about that.

Yanan:

then:

my first bias in ptg!!! i fell in love with him instantly! i loved how tall he is, and the white hair and his i c o n i c "my baby"!! like i was whipped from the gate. i remember liking his duality back then too!!

now:

ok so, since he was bias immediately, i noticed more about him than anyone else. which means i have less to write oops. but thats okay because at least i had a bit of taste back then. but, yanan is hilarious. he's so clever and funny and you can tell how effortless it is. most iconic ptg sayings are something from yanan and thats just amazing. the big thing i notice now that i didn't really before, though, is that fact that his duality is so shocking because he's literally just as unpredictable as hyojong. its impossible to really tell what hes going to do next, and i think it catches people off guard more with yanan because even that aspect of him is unexpected.

Yuto:

then:

i thought he was kinda scary!! idk he seemed so cold and i couldn't really relate to that so i didn't grow very attached to him.

now:

he's so pure!!! hes said that he has a hard time expressing his feelings but i don't really see it? because he always seems so happy to be around ptg and having fun with them even if he isn't usually the one playing around!! he loves them so much tbh and its the sweetest thing :( everything about yuto is so sweet, because he cares a lot about the people around him and doesn't want anyone to get hurt- even if its fake or a joke. and like, he's really hardworking too!! ptg have said multiple times that he works the hardest, and that really is saying something imo! and like, you can just see it even without being told that. whether its his workout journey pentory or the fact that he's literally been learning guitar. also!! omg the lyrics he writes?? heartwarming, romantic and life changing!! seasons and cosmo made me a different person. but yeah, he's such an amazing, warm person and i cant believe i found him scary.

Kino:

then:

i thought he was the main vocal. like no joke, he was so charismatic and flaunting so much in shine that i was like "ah yes. the main vocalist" hhhggg. i remember thinking he was pretty though, and that his stage name was super cute. but i wasn't very interested in learning about him, despite how he really caught my eye. for some reason, though, i eventually got the thought that he was really pure.

now:

main vocal hdzfhh kino relax you're confusing ppl. of course he has an amazing voice and it always sounds incredible but!! what amuses me is the way he sings always sounds kinda like he's trying to be sexy and?? its so funny in ballads and stuff imo. but yeah, that "sensual"?? singing is what threw me off back then. buf more importantly, i just wanna mention the pure thing- because its a confusing situation. on one hand, kino has a heart of gold that not only adores uni but is also accepting. as well as how he's constantly bringing light into the world with his words and truly bright outlook. but on the other hand he's a demon that dances like That and is so dangerous when he wants to be!! so!! what's it gonna be kino, make up your mind :( anyways, listen to knnovations. esp bad timing and 224.12!!

Wooseok:

then:

i loved him instantly. he looked like an overgrown 10 year old in my eyes and that's just. precious. i thought he was pretty funny too!!

now:

if i took off my hong glasses for long enough, id be able to say that i think he's the funniest in ptg. because he's so hilarious in my eyes like? he makes me do an ugly wheeze laugh, and a lot of my favorite ptg moments involve him in some way lmao. but he is actually a baby, so i was onto something there with the overgrown 10 y/o thing. despite being really funny though, i do think he tends to be quiet more often than like hui or shinwon and he hardly ever smiles, unless he's like laughing and thats makes me think that he's kind of awkward?? not in like a bad way, but i just kind of see that i guess. but!! something that i think is passed over a lot with woo is the fact that he usually has a hand in composing, and also that he writes his raps?? like that's so cool, we love that!!

ok! so that was my lame little essay lmao. i hoped you liked if you read it all! im just glad to say that i really appreciate pentagon as a whole, and how much joy they bring into my life nowadays!! i feel like ive found a place to call my own with uni and with pentagon :)

#text: bouquet #universechallenge #wow this took forever and its kinda dumb but it was fun #i wouldnt be satisfied if i drew anything tbh

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eldritchsurveys · 4 years

Text

761.

Does anyone know your bank pin number other than you? Who? >> Yeah, Sparrow does.

Have you ever had a boyfriend/girlfriend who was depressed? >> Sure.

Would you be able to climb out your bedroom window to sneak out? >> Absolutely not, I live on the third floor. --Well, I could climb out, and I might even survive, but... let’s just say it’s pretty goddamn risky. Anyway, I’m an adult and I don’t have to sneak out of my own apartment, so it’s irrelevant.

What would you do if you found out the last person you called was pregnant/got someone pregnant? >> ---

Can you taste the difference between brand name food and store brand food? >> Depends on the food. Some foods are pretty easy to dupe and it’s not a problem, but not all of them.

Would you be embarrassed to buy pads/tampons/condoms? Which one more? >> No, dude.

If a stranger went in your bedroom, would they be able to tell what gender you are from just looking at it? >> I don’t know what someone would guess, it depends on what people use as markers for gender. Besides, I don’t subscribe to a specific gender, so whatever they’d guess would be wrong regardless.

Are your parents gullible? >> ---

Do you still own a VCR? >> I’ve never owned a VCR. By the time I left home, DVDs had won the battle.

About how much money have you spent on food in the past two weeks? >> I haven’t spent any money on food. Sparrow’s unemployment checks have paid for the groceries, because just one of those was still more than I get in a month.

If you were in a car accident would the last person you kissed care? >> I mean, of course the Inworlders would care.

If you were looking for a new pair of shoes where would you go? >> I wouldn’t go anywhere, right now. But in general, I still have no idea where I would go. I’ve always hated shoe shopping, almost more than I hate other clothes shopping.

How much was the last pair of shoes you bought? >> The last pair of shoes I got were about $70 or $80. I didn’t buy them, Sparrow did.

What color is the computer/laptop you’re on? Did you buy it yourself? >> Silver. No, Sparrow’s Best Buy card bought it.

Do you have a second home? >> No.

Would you be surprised if you saw the last person you texted smoking? >> A little, yeah, because the last time I saw her smoke anything was back when I first got here and was still a smoker myself.

Does the smell of cigarettes, weed and beer repulse you? >> The smell of cigarettes can be repulsive to me, which I’ve heard is pretty common amongst ex-smokers. Also, my sensory defensiveness is higher than it used to be, so. The smell of beer doesn’t usually repulse me, but that can vary depending on what kind of day I’m having. The smell of weed is often too strong for my liking, but I don’t necessarily hate it. I just can’t be around it for too long because of, I repeat, sensory defensiveness.

Was the last person you kissed younger or older than you? >> ---

Do you think people have any misconceptions about you? >> Well, duh. Just like I probably have plenty of misconceptions about other people.

Have you ever purchased Girl Scout cookies? >> Yeah.

Do you like waffles? >> Yeah.

Do you watch birthing videos on a day-to-day basis? >> That... seems like one hell of a hobby.

Do you find piercings/tattoos attractive? >> I find them fun and interesting and cool to look at and talk about and learn about. I guess that can be summed up under “attractive”.

Would you talk to someone you don’t know on the internet? >> I always talk to people I don’t know on the internet, it’s kind of part of the experience (unless you just never use the social aspect of the internet).

How often do you drink Monster? >> Never, I hate Monster.

Have you ever made totally pointless videos with your friends? >> Maybe. I don’t really remember doing so, but it’s a possibility.

Do you like to buy those Warped Tour compilations? >> No, but I vaguely remember them.

Do you like sitting on the inside or outside of a restaurant booth? >> I don’t think I prefer one or the other by itself -- it’s usually a combination of different elements that determines whether I’ll sit on the inside or the outside of a booth.

Do you own a nightgown? >> No.

Have you ever made a house out of a giant cardboard box? >> No.

Have you ever made a tent out of sheets in your bedroom? >> No.

Do your grandparents know how to operate a cell phone? >> ---

Have you ever had sex or something like it? >> Yes to... both?

Have you ever read a George Orwell book? >> No, because though I started it, I never finished 1984.

Have you ever worn fishnets? >> Yeah, many times.

How many piercings and tattoos do you have? >> Two [sets of] piercings and three tattoos.

Is someone in your family affected by Asperger’s? >> ---

In a hotel do you always nose through all the drawers and cupboards? >> No.

Would you rather go out to eat or be eaten out? >> I’d definitely rather go out to eat, thanks.

Do you always wear your seat belt? >> Yeah. What’s funny is I was never made to wear one as a child. I had to get used to seatbelts in adulthood. I... have no idea why that is. Not a good look, though.

Have you ever liked someone much older than you? >> Sure.

Have you ever been in a play? >> Yeah, once.

Do you have any secrets that nobody knows about? >> I mean, I wouldn’t call them “secrets” because it’s not that deep, but yeah, there are plenty of things the average acquaintance doesn’t know about me.

Is there ice cream in your freezer? >> Yeah.

Have you ever started to laugh but played it off as a cough successfully? >> Probably.

Have you ever liked the lyrics of a band but hated the music? >> Yeah, that’s kind of how I feel about The Mountain Goats. The lyrics always seem interesting, but then I listen to the song itself and I’m like “bleh...”

Does your bathroom have a window? >> No, and god, I’d give an organ for a bathroom with a fucking window.

Do you go somewhere to get your eyebrows done? >> No.

When you were younger did you read the A Series Of Unfortunate Events books? >> No.

Who was the last band you saw live? >> Hozier and crew.

Do you believe prayer really works? >> It depends on what you expect prayer to do. I think it works greatly for focusing one’s mind and will, for feeling connected to whatever numinous force you’re into, and for the meditative effect. I also think it works to calm one down, to relieve stress, that sort of thing -- which can be helpful when you’re trying to heal from an illness or something, when you think about the body holistically. Now, if you want to claim that prayer literally causes divine power to come out of the universe and, say, completely eradicate a person’s cancer... well, I mean, I just don’t know about that, is all.

Are you a fan of the band Gym Class Heroes? >> No.

Frosted flakes or frosted mini wheats? >> I used to love frosted mini-wheats... it’s been forever since I had those.

Have you been on a date in the park? >> Something like that.

Ever dated someone you were best friends with first? >> Something like that.

Are there any diseases/health problems that run in your family? >> ---

Do you have asthma? >> Nope. I should have, almost everyone else born in my area at that time period was riddled with respiratory ailments. Bad air up in Elizabethport.

Are tongue piercings slutty? >> Sigh.

Is there anybody you think is hot over the age of 40? >> That’s basically a foundational criterion for me to consider someone attractive, lmfao.

Last person to take off your pants, besides you? >> No one takes off my pants except me.

Do you remember those cool highlighters that smelled like popcorn? >> No.

Might you enjoy hanging out in the woods for day or two? >> Absolutely.

Have you ever written something on a bathroom stall? >> No.

Least favorite alcoholic drink? >> Hmm... I guess gin. Rarely will I drink a gin-based cocktail.

Have you ever kissed someone named Paul or Luke? >> Maybe? I don’t know.

How did you meet the last male you texted? >> ---

Have you ever had an embarrassing email address? >> No.

Do you put shampoo in your left or right hand? Left. I had to mime that. <-- lol yeah, same.

Do you have a bull ring through your nose? >> I mean, yeah, more or less.

Do you and your dad get along? >> :|

Can you see your purse right now? >> ---

Are you wearing any perfume? What kind? >> No.

Are there products in your hair? >> No.

When you get colds, do you use nasal spray to help get your nose unstuffy? >> Sometimes, when I get aggravated enough.

Do you actually like sneezing? >> No.

Have you taken a shower yet today? >> No.

Do you have one best friend who is always there for you? >> ---

Do you wear skirts a lot? >> No.

Do you wear sweatpants a lot? >> I don’t have enough pairs to wear them a lot, but let me tell you, if I had more they’re pretty much all I would wear as far as outside clothing goes.

How many pairs of jeans do you think you have? >> I have three pairs, I don’t have to guess.

Do you like hoodies? >> I love hoodies.

Big ones or the form fitting kind? >> Big ones.

Do you wear polo shirts a lot? >> I never wear polo shirts.

Did you ever actually have a rubber duck? >> No.

Are you one of those people who claim to live with no regrets? >> I mean, I don’t necessarily feel great about everything I’ve done, but I’m not going to obsess about it either. All I can do is try to learn from my mistakes moving forward, and hope my brain doesn’t turn on me and make me do more things I’ll have to learn from. I don’t know, man, “regret” just doesn’t feel like a thing I fully comprehend.

Do you love your computer? >> I sure do. Both of them.

Do you drink coffee? >> No.

Do you basically like all of your clothes? >> Sure. When I stop liking them, I get rid of them.

Do you shop mostly with your parents, your friends, or by yourself? >> Either by myself or with Sparrow.

#surveys #survey #random survey

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jising-jisang-jisung · 6 years

Text

Sugar Lips | Huang Renjun

Genre: floof

Word count: 1.7k

A/n: this is one of the longest fics I've ever written and not at all based off of a boy from my school whom I dislike sorry about the rushed ending I didnt know where I was going with that :/

~~~~~

You and Renjun had never gotten along. He sat behind you in math and was constantly picking on you. Yeah, you could have destroyed him with some sick burns, but you held your tongue out of consideration for his gigantic ego. Half the school thought you two liked each other and the other knew that yall were mortal enemies. The thought of you liking Renjun made you want to stab your eyes out with sporks. However, you couldnt deny that Renjun was hot. Like, this boi had been hand sculpted by God himself. Seriously damn. You had to give credit where credit is due. But, as I said, you do NOT like Renjun.

After the rumors started that you and Renjun like each other, you tried to react less to him. You no longer argued and paid little attention to him. Much to your dismay, your teachers seemed to find your ability to ignore Renjun as a good quality that most of the others students lacked. This resulted in you sitting by him in most of your classes. But obviously you didnt let this affect you. You just had to sit there and pay him no attention. Easier said than done. You were always trying to not notice him, despite always looking at him because hes hot.

One night your friend, let's call her Ryn for fun, forced you out to a party and then ditched you. Skew you, Ryn! You weren't the biggest fan of parties so you sat on one of the counters in the kitchen, by yourself, patiently waiting for Ryn to be ready to leave. That's when something caught your eye. Renjun was also alone in the kitchen and he was looking right at you. Or at least, you thought he was, but he could easily be looking at something else. Why would he be looking at you anyways? You looked back down at your drink, avoiding any eye contact with the boy you have to ignore.

By this point in the year, you had gotten very good at ignoring him. You didnt even notice when he started walking towards you. And you didnt even react when he grabbed your hand. You paid him no attention as he led you into an empty room. All you had to do was not pay attention to Renjun. That's seriously all you had to do. So you didnt pay attention to him as he leaned towards you. But he grabbed your chin, causing you to look him in the eye. Shoot. Just dont react, you thought to yourself. You tried not reacting as he leaned closer and closer. Until..

He stopped? "Do you want me to stop" he asks innocently, a blush leaking onto his cheeks. Okay stay calm, just dont do anything rash- You tried to tell yourself but instead you grabbed his shirt in a fist and pulled him until the little space between you was now nonexistent. His lips were sweet, like sugar. They were as forbidden as they were sweet. And you were completely aware that you should not be doing what you were doing. Yet, you did not pull away. Thankfully, neither did Renjun. He just wrapped his arms around your waist and held you as close as he physically could.

The next thing you knew, your phone was going off. The musical tone signaling a call from Ryn who, to your dismay, was ready to leave and looking for you. Renjun took a small step back, wiped his mouth, and walked out of the room you to had shared. He didnt even say anything. Confused, you left as well, in search of Ryn. You found her by the door and explained everything that happened on your way home. Leaving out no details, it was a bit hard to believe considering Renjun was known to be you mortal enemy. What will happen when you sit by him in class tomorrow? Will he say something about it to embarrass you? Or will he stay quiet and pretend it never happened? Oh gosh, what if he says it was only because he was drunk? Thinking back to your memory, his mouth didnt taste like alcohol at all, so even if he tried to blame it on drinking, it wasnt feasible. But now you were thinking about kissing him,,, and that thought didnt go away easily.

You walk into your first class to see him already there surrounded by the other boys. You had planned to avoid eye contact and avoid him in general because you were worried about what he would do. But you locked eyes and to your dismay, he just smirked. Dare you say, is was a really handsome smirk too. Luckily nobody was paying attention so this interaction went unnoticed as you sat at your seat beside him.

Half the class went by without mishap and you hoped you would never have to deal with Renjun again. However, you are not that fortunate. He slid you a note discreetly.

Y/N, for acting like you have a pole stuck up your ass 80% of the time, you're a surprisingly good kisser ;)

You tried so hard to hold yourself back. To not react. To go back to how things were with Renjun as your enemy of mutual disgust. But you could help but write back.

Only 80% of the time?

You busy later?

I am completely free tonight

Good, my family is out for the night

And then the bell rang and you were off to your next class which you didnt have with Renjun. Before you knew it the school day had ended and you were rushing to leave. Maybe you were going too fast because you didnt see the person in front of you until after you ran right into them.

"Y/N! Can you fucking watch where you're going?!" Renjun said. You were taken aback by his antics because he was acting so weird in your classes today. I guess this makes it seem like nothing has changed between you two to the rest of the school.

"Watch where you're going, Renjun, you stepped out right in front of me." You spit back before you walked away without another word.

You arrived at Renjuns house around 5. When he opened the door, you could tell he was nervous but tried to play it off. You wanted to kiss him again, but he hadnt made another move. Yolo! You grabbed his shirt in a fist and aggressively pulled him towards you. His eyes were big, surprised by your actions. He kissed you back more delicately than before. It was as if he was no longer fueled by the lust he had at the party.

Renjun was the first to pull away. His face was bright red as he invited you further into his home. "Are you hungry?" He asked. "Yeah, maybe a little" He then went to his kitchen and got some snacks. "Listen, Y/N" his voice was shakey, "I know that we made out at that party and we havent really gotten along before but what I'm trying to say is" his eyes fell to the snacks in his hands, "I actually like you." Your jaw actually hit the floor when he admitted this. Obviously your reaction didnt do much help for Renjuns nerves. He scratched the back of his head when you didnt respond and spoke again, " I know I act like I hate you and that's because you hate me, dont you? So I'm not expecting you to like me, but I just thought I'd let you know the truth."

You couldnt believe what the boy was saying. Right now he looked so shy and small compared to his usual cocky, confident self. "I dont hate you, Renjun." You tried to say but it only came out in a whisper. His face lit up. "You dont, well then I have a slight chance- shit I meant to say that in my head" Yeah, this boy is supposed to be your enemy, but you have always found him attractive. You spent years pretending to hate each other because you both thought that the other did. Maybe Renjun isnt as bad as you thought. You decided to see where this would take you. "Do you wanna watch a movie?"

Again, his face lit up as he smiled at you handing you a bag of gummy worms, "Thatd be great."

You two wound up picking out a movie that you barely remember because you're sitting very close to Renjun. You cant help but stare, and your heart flutters a little. He turns to look at you, catching you off guard, meeting eyes. This time he took the initiative and grabbed either side of your face and kissed you softly. You wrapped your arms around his neck with your hands playing with his hair. Before you knew it the movie had ended and the credits were playing. You pulled away from Renjun a little dizzy from the lack of oxygen while you had been kissing. You didnt want to leave but it was a school night and you had to get home. You smiled shyly as you stood from his couch. "I'll see you tomorrow." Renjun nodded and followed you out, watching as you drove away.

The next day when you entered your class, Renjun was already there, again. But this time he got up from the group of boys and came over to you. He smirked before grabbing your hand and kissing your cheek. Queue everyone's reactions ( .O.) You knew he was just playing it cool but you were still blushing like you have too much blood in your body and it happens to all be in your face. Some people claimed they called it or knew or whatever. None of that was important to you two.

Yall would go on cute dates pretty much anywhere. The park, a picnic, the arcade, literally anywhere was fun with Renjun. Sometimes you'll even go to his house just to nap and cling onto him. Due to this, Renjun bought you a big plushie to hug for whenever he cant be there for you. What I'm trying to say here is that you two are goals and cute af and so on.

#nct dream #nct #nct renjun #renjun #renjun imagines #renjun fluff #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct fluff #enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers renjun #nct dream fluff #nct dream imagines #huang renjun

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riverscuomohhh · 5 years

Text

Rivers’ first solo interview from 1994

From Lyndsey Parker via facebook

I was the first person to interview Rivers Cuomo of Weezer solo (the band had done one interview together, for Strobe Magazine) in 1994, before #TheBlueAlbum came out 25 years ago. Rivers and I were both very inexperienced at doing interviews (this was for my fanzine, Porkchops & Applesauce) but I figured since today is that album's 25th anniversary it would be fun to share it now. It's kind of funny how back then Rivers was embarrassed about his heavy metal past!! I never was. There's some Pinkerton prediction at the end of this one...

LP: So you moved to L.A. about five years ago – was it to specifically pursue music?

RC: Yeah, definitely. I moved here with like, the intention of being a rock star. And I completely failed. So, after a few years of messing around with really bad style, I got my s*** together.

LP: What do you mean by “bad style”?

RC: Well, I don’t want to get too specific, because I’m completely embarrassed.

LP: Were you into metal, by any chance? I don’t look down on that.

RC: Yeah, but the people who read your fanzine might!

LP: Well, that’s their problem. But anyway, it was the ‘80s; that’s what was around on in L.A. then.

RC: Yeah, so I can’t really blame myself, since that’s what was cool at the time. Anyway, I got out of that and discovered songwriting. It’s kind of a different thing. So I got a Weezer-prototype band together with [future Weezer drummer] Pat [Wilson], and our bassist was Scottie [Chapman] who used to be in [Los Angeles indie band] Charles Brown Superstar. We were called Fuzz. We had just two shows, at the [Sunset Strip club] Coconut Teaszer on a Sunday night, in front of a grand total of about five or six people. After about two months we broke up, then somehow made our way to this.

LP: How did you get interested in music in the first place?

RC: Well, I always wanted to be a football player. Like, really bad. But as soon as I became a teenager, it became apparent that I was not going to evolve into a football player. My brother had a guitar, so I’d just sit at home and be depressed about not being able to play football, and play with his guitar.

LP: You’re better off!

RC: Yeah. Anyway, because I loved bands like KISS and stuff, I wanted to start my own band, so I got a band together with my brother and my friends, and ever since, I’ve been in bands – since I was like 13.

LP: Were there places for you to play in Connecticut?

RC: No, there weren’t any places at all, and there probably still aren’t. I think if we ever tour we won’t even stop in Connecticut, even though it’s my home state, because there’s just nothing there. We played parties, or at school, like in Battle of the Bands [contests]. We’d do Twisted Sister covers.

LP: Is that the kind of stuff you grew up listening to?

RC: I started off pretty cool. I think my first concert was Men at Work. I was really into them and the Kinks. Cool stuff. Then right around 7th or 8th grade, things really took a turn for the worse! All my teenage years sucked. Then I got a job at Tower Records and they kicked my ass and told me to listen to cool music. They enlightened me.

LP: What did you think of supposedly “glamorous” Hollywood when you first moved here?

RC: I didn’t really have any expectations when I came here, and I was really excited about the whole thing. Even the gross stuff is really exciting compared to the backwoods of Connecticut. Even the weird, strange, gross things in Hollywood were really exciting to me.

LP: What did your family think of you moving out here?

RC: They were all for me getting out and doing something. Of course, they would have preferred for me to go to school, but I really wanted to be a rock star. It probably wasn’t their first choice for me, but they were still supportive.

LP:Are they happy for you now, now that you have a record deal?

RC: My ex-stepdad is. I’m not sure how much my mom understands what it all means – not that I understand what it all means! I think she’d still like me to be in school.

LP: So, Ric Ocasek produced this album. How did that happen?

RC: Well, I like the Cars a lot, so I suggested sending him a tape. I guess he liked it, because a few days later our record company guy called us and said, “Ric’s coming to your rehearsal today.” We were all really nervous. And he opened the door and we see this guy, 7 feet tall with sunglasses, looking like an ‘80s rock star.

LP: Is Ric a cool guy?

RC: He is so cool! He’s so sweet and nice, and makes us all feel really comfortable.

LP: What was it like working with him?

RC: Just really mellow. He didn’t have too much to say. He was just kind of there as a backup, in case we got stuck. He made sure everything went smoothly. But it wasn’t like he messed with our sound too much; our demo tape [The Kitchen Tapes] is pretty much the same as the album.

LP: So it wasn’t Ric’s idea to have those new-wavey keyboards on “Buddy Holly”?

No! Everyone thinks that! The keyboards were on there before we ever talked to him. He hated them! I guess maybe he was afraid that people would think it was him.

LP: So, what plans does Geffen have for your guys? Are you going to tour?

We hope to tour, but it’s so hard to get on a tour right now. Everyone’s turning us down. We’ve been dying to tour for months now, but all the other bands want to tur with someone bigger than themselves, so they can play in front of more people. Nobody wants to go on tour with a completely unknown bands. We’ll probably go out on our own.

LP: What about a video?

RC: I think we are actually going to do a video for “Undone” in a few weeks. The best idea for it is us just playing in an empty, plain room, just one shot – no cuts or anything.

LP: Sort of like the Police’s “Roxanne” video?

RC: I don’t remember that one, but possibly! We didn’t get MTV where I lived until really late, like “Livin’ on a Prayer,” so I missed all the early cool videos entirely.

LP: I often prefer simple videos over today’s big-budget extravaganzas.

RC: I think ours will be very cheap! We’re not counting on getting on MTV at all. I’d prefer not to even have a video, but I wonder if it’s even possible to be successful without a video anymore. That sucks.

LP: I think the humor in your lyrics is really clever, but I’ve heard you hate being labeled “fun” and “quirky.” Why?

RC: I had no idea we were funny or goofy or whatever until people started talking to us. I always thought our music was really sad and kind of dark. And then everyone comes up to me and says, “You guys are hilarious!” I think our next record [Pinkerton] is going to have a lot less silliness on it. It’s going to be much more difficult to interpret it that way, because I’m consciously steering away from that now. I just don’t want to be perceived as light, or that we’re not really feeling it, because we really are. All the lyrics are borne out of intense feeling and necessity, and it’s a drag when people think we just whipped them off and don’t really care about it.

#long post #but worth it #rivers cuomo #90s rivers #weezer #94 rivers #fanzine #interview #pork chops and applesauce

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escapingreality1992 · 5 years

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Corn Maze Fun

On a cool, crisp afternoon in the compound, I sat in my room with one of my best friends, Carol Danvers. We were talking about going out for dinner when Tony popped his head inside the open doorway.

"Family meeting, five minutes. Oh and Arabella, Strange is in attendance," he alerted us.

"Really? You call a family meeting and invite Stephen? Not much of a family meeting is it? Did Thor invite Loki?" I joked, earning a frown from him.

"I can't get over the fact that you're on a first name basis with the wizard,"

"I'll take your answer as a yes. Stephen isn't too bad. He's nice to me anyway,"

"Oh, come on. You do realize the guy can be an asshole sometimes right?"

"There once was a time when you acted the same way. Give him some time. I'm positive he'll come around one day," I said.

"We'll be down in a minute. I need to discuss something with Arabella real quick," Carol interrupted us before we got into a nasty argument. Tony opened his mouth to make another statement but something about Carol's expression made him close it and disappear from sight. Once Tony was out of earshot, she turned her attention on me.

"What?" I questioned.

"We've got to talk about this crush of yours," she stated, making me cringe.

"I don't have a crush on Stephen. Everyone thinks I do but-,"

"Why are you crushing on Thor? Have you seen him lately?" Carol blurted out, a disapproving expression scrawled over her features. I narrowed my eyes at her, anger flaring up inside.

"You disapprove of it because why? Because he's chubby? You know looks have never mattered to me right? Besides he's adorable. I love Viking Thor," I snapped.

"Ara, I love you but surely there are better options than him. Even Strange would be a significant improvement. And you look cute when you're around-,"

"We're late to the meeting," I stated, cutting her off. I got off the bed and walked out into the hallway. Carol let out an exasperated sigh, giving up at the idea of convincing me I was nuts to like Thor. Sure, he had let himself go, but he hadn't changed much in personality. In fact he'd gotten funnier, more relaxed than before. We descended the steps to the lounge and I gracefully glided over to Stephen, who was sitting on one of the couches; I placed a chaste kiss on his cheek. He chuckled and stood to give me a quick hug. I returned it, releasing him a moment later and made my way to approach Thor. He truly became my favorite person in the world.

"Mind if I sit here?" I asked him, gesturing to his lap. I noticed Loki rolling his eyes and shot him a wink, waiting on Thor to answer me.

"I don't mind at all. Come, sit. Drink," he replied, holding up a beer stein filled to the brim with a bright golden ale; as tempting as it looked, I knew better. Asgardian ale took its toll on me and I no longer could tolerate its taste; it made me sick and I woke with the worst hangover I've had in my lifetime.

"No thanks. I'll take my seat though," I said, lowering myself onto his spread legs, throwing my own over the armrest, careful not to spill his beer. My back pressed into his arm and our attention turned onto Tony when he began the meeting.

"We've been invited to attend a corn maze tomorrow morning at 11 by Horror Candies, an organization that specializes in fall activities not limited to just horror shows. It sounds fun but it's adult-themed meaning alcohol will be served. We're to go in groups of five and I've assigned everyone to a specific one and in what order we go in," he announced. How intriguing. Perfect for fall though, I thought. I watched as some in the room frowned, others grinned, deeming it easy.

"There are rules. No magic, no powers or mischief," Tony continued, looking directly at Loki with utterance of the last rule. I stifled a laugh watching Loki feign surprise at the mention of it.

"Wonderful! A grand idea indeed!" Thor boomed, a ginormous grin plastered on his face.

"Drinks are served at the end of the maze. There is to be no drinking during or before the event. They're afraid of disorderly conduct of the people attending. Plus, they don't want to be liable for any accidents or injuries," Steve explained, reading from a piece of paper, my guess being the invitation for the event. Thor's smile faded from his lips, forming into somewhat of a pout.

"Don't look so glum. It'll be fun," I told him.

"Yeah, anything to get out of the compound for a few hours. At least it's not a mission this time," Natasha agreed.

"How many people to a group?" Stephen asked, making Tony continue the discussion.

"Five. I've invited a few others. They're planning on meeting us there. The groups are as follows. First group, Rhodey, Wanda, Vision, Clint and me. Second group, Thor, Lang, Sam, Strange and Bruce. Third group, Danvers, my lovely Pepper, Hope Van Dyne, Hill and Arabella. Last group, Barnes, T'Challa, Reindeer Games, Nat and Cap," he told us.

"Weird combinations of people," I commented.

"Eh, different people with a unique set of skills between them," Carol commented, shrugging her shoulders.

"Right. We'll meet down here at 7 a.m. and fly out to Roanoke, Virginia. We'll meet the rest of the crew there. Group up, do the maze and have a celebration after," Steve informed us. Most of us groaned, Thor and I included. We weren't early morning people but at least we'd get some reward out of it. Dispersing after being dismissed, Carol and I, joined by Stephen went out to grab dinner at a local sushi restaurant, washing it down with beer and returned home where I spent most of the evening playing on my phone and watching YouTube videos.

The Next Morning

My alarm blared at exactly 6 a.m. waking me from my deep sleep. I set it exceedingly early in order to take a shower and still have enough time to get dressed to meet everyone downstairs. I yelped at the cold water, it being necessary to help wake me up fully and be alert should I need to concentrate later. Cleaning rather quickly, I got out, checking the temperature in Roanoke. I dressed accordingly, putting on an outfit I didn't mind getting dirty. I exited my room, first grabbing a novel and stuffing my earbuds in my pocket for the two hour flight. I met my friends downstairs, Steve, Nat, Carol, and Tony having got up earlier than I did. Damn the 5 a.m. people. As more people filed in, Stephen arriving by portal, we started discussing the itinerary of the day's event. Scott, Hope, and T'Challa were expected to arrive a few minutes after us, followed by Hill who had demanded to travel alone. We were meeting the hosts, Sally and Jack, and have picture then we could do the maze, which only lasted an hour supposedly; each group would go in half an hour after each other.

"Ara, go get your boyfriend," Natasha told me when Thor still hadn't come down at the meeting time.

"He's not my boyfriend," I commented, heat spreading across my face.

"Not yet. Just go get him will you? We're running behind," Carol stated. The heat grew hotter and I ran down the hallway to the room at the end of the hall. I knocked and called out his name, receiving no answer. Twisting the door knob, I discovered it unlocked and let myself in.

"Thor? Are you ready? We've got...Oh my god! T-Thor! Put some clothes on!" I stated, abruptly shielding my eyes when I slammed into him and his nude body. A new heat flushed my cheeks and I turned, averting my eyesight to the plush, carpeted floor.

"Arabella! Sorry! I didn't hear you knock," he said.

"J-Just put something on and let's go. Preferably something with pants," I told him, ashamed of glancing back at him. I heard a ruffle of clothes and felt the tap of his hand against my shoulder when he was decent. We walked out of his room and I hoped embarrassment at what I encountered had faded from my face as we entered the lounge.

"Finally! Time to go," Tony exclaimed. I caught the concerned looks of Carol and Stephen, both mouthing the words 'Are you okay?' my way. I nodded and caught up with Carol linking arms.

"You sure?" she whispered, her breath soft as a feather brushing against my skin.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I whispered back. We made it to the airport and climbed aboard, Loki and I both making tea, settling into our books for the flight. Halfway through Thor, approached me and took the empty seat next to me.

"I am sorry for what occurred earlier. You weren't meant to see me in that way," he apologized. My face burned in embarrassment and shame.

"Don't worry about it. I should've been more forceful with my knock,"

"Ara.."

"I don't want to talk about it. Please, Thor. Drop it,"

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about. I-,"

"I'm not embarrassed. Can you drop it and leave me alone," I snapped and looked at him. Instant regret flooded my mind at his expression.

"I am sorry. Truly. I know you must find me repulsive. I'll leave you to your novel," he commented, hurt clouding his blue eyes. He got up and returned to his prior seat up front beside Bruce. Nice, Arabella. You hurt his feelings, I thought. I attempted to resume my book but his words lingered in my head for the rest of the flight and I made a note to apologize later.

Corn Maze

Since we got a late start, we arrived after the others and had a quick introduction with the hosts. We took the picture and then grouped off, Rhodey's team entering first. The area where we at was gorgeous. They had a tent beginning to be set up where drinks and food would be served. Music blared from speakers all around the maze giving it a party-like atmosphere. The maze itself was huge and reminded me of the one in Goblet of Fire except with corn and less creepy. While waiting on our turn, I tried to talk to Thor, to apologize for my outburst on the plane.

"Thor? Listen I-,"

"Look, it's my turn. Hope you have fun," he cut me off, following the rest of his group into the maze.

"Dammit," I mumbled. When it came time for my group, Carol took her place on my left, Hope on my right.

"Having a lover's spat?" Carol asked as we turned a corner and kept going along the path.

"We are not dating. I doubt we ever will. Especially since I snapped at him on the plane,"

"Yeah, I heard. What did he do? Flatten you?"

"Stop making fun of his weight. He...ranintomenaked," I answered, saying the last part quickly.

"What?" Hope asked.

"He ran into me naked. I knocked but he didn't answer. Naturally, I went in and he was in the midst of getting dressed. We collided into each other. He happened to be nude as we did so," I ground out, my face on fire. The girls around me busted out laughing.

"Shut up..." I grumbled.

"This way. So, you were embarrassed. How big was it?" Pepper stated, trying to refrain from laughing again. My skin felt so hot, I thought I'd combust.

"I...didn't notice. I turned around too fast to really see,"

"What I don't understand it...well, why do you like Thor so much? I mean he really let himself go," Maria commented.

"Give him a break. He's been through a lot. He lost his parents, Jane dumped him and then he thought Loki died for real again and half of his people abandoned him. Besides, he's very sweet and down-to-earth, you know. He's still Thor but chubbier," I answered, pulling them around another turn.

"Hey! I think I'm lost!" Thor's loud voice echoed through the maze.

"It doesn't bother you?" Hope questioned. I shook my head and soon we were out of the maze.

"Didn't he go with Strange and Bruce? Shouldn't they have...hey, there they are," Carol noted, gesturing over to the other groups that went in before us.

"Thor's not with them," I stated.

"Guys! Where did everyone go?" Thor yelled from inside the maze.

"What happened? Wasn't he with you?" I asked, concern growing in my mind.

"Yeah, but he took a left when he should have gone straight. He kept walking ahead of us. We tried getting him to come back but he seemed distracted," Bruce answered.

"Fuck! So, he's really lost then?" I said. I started pacing, worried my outburst might have messed him up. The last group joined us and they walked over to the tent with the bar that got set up when we arrived.

"Are you coming?" Stephen asked me. I shook my head, worried about Thor.

"He's going to be okay. He'll find his way out. There's probably more exits," Stephen attempted to reassure me, rubbing my shoulders in a comforting motion.

"You don't understand. I snapped at him on the plane. Told him to leave me alone. He thought I found him repulsive," I told him, my voice quaking with a mixture of fear, concern and, more importantly, guilt.

"Hello? I'm lost. Guys, I'm really starting to panic here," Thor called out again.

"Arabella! Strange! Grab a drink. What's wrong?" Tony said, walking over to us followed by Carol, Steve, Bucky and Maria.

"She's worried that she made Thor sad. She said she snapped at him earlier. Maybe somehow convinced him she didn't like him," Carol commented. I shot her a glare and looked to the sky. The sun began to set, the day getting darker by the minute.

"Help! I can't find my way out!" Thor's voice boomed over the loud music, over the crowd of people partying.

"Why doesn't he just fly out?" Tony asked.

"No flying remember. He didn't bring the hammer or Stormbreaker either to try to stick to the rules," I stated, leaving Stephen's grasp to walk into the maze so I could find Thor.

"Wait! Arabella! You can't go in there alone. We don't even know which path he took and we can't have two Avengers lost in the maze. Look..." Steve protested, releasing a huge sigh. "I brought the hammer. So just ask him to call out for it," he stated.

"Fly out, you idiot!" Tony yelled.

"I can't! It's against the rules!" Thor shouted.

"Screw the rules! You're lost! Call out for the hammer! Fly out!" Tony shouted back, facepalming himself.

"Oh, right!" A few moments of silence filled the air despite the music blaring from the speakers around us and the people talking nearby and then the silver hammer lifted and flew into the maze. Rows of corn splintered, creating a path, disappearing deep into the maze. We watched as Thor rose above the stalks, hovering high for a few seconds before being lowered, his feet brushing the top of the corn husks. Most of us struggled not to laugh, failing as he continued flying towards us, his feet still brushing the top of the husks; his weight evidently a factor of this. He landed before the group, blue eyes twinkling, cheeks flushed red from the cool temperature and the flight back to us.

"Good job big guy. Go grab yourself a drink," Carol told him, patting his shoulder.

"Yes. I must celebrate this glorious night," He walked past us, not even glancing my way; it hurt me and I tried not let anyone see the tears springing to my eyes.

"See, he's fine. You need to get a drink yourself. Relax, have fun," Stephen told me. I nodded and headed into the direction of the bar, waiting on the bartender to come to me.

"What will it be sweetheart?" she asked me, when it came to be my turn.

"She'll take a bloody Mary, extra spicy," Thor's voice ordered before I had a chance to open my mouth. He walked up beside me, beer in hand.

"Coming right up," the bartender said, walking away to mix it up.

"You know me too well," I told him, leaning forward on the bar counter as he leaned his back on it.

"All those years and you've never noticed how much I've liked you," he confessed.

"What about Jane? Surely, you must've liked her if you dated her,"

"Jane is different. She's smart and beautiful in her own way. She's nothing compared to you. I thought that after we broke up, you might consider...but then my father died and then Asgard burned, more chaos happening shortly after that. It really messed up my mind," he told me, looking out at our friends who were talking among each other.

"Then that," I gestured to his stomach. "Happened. I guess we've both been through a lot," I commented, getting my drink and proceeding to thank the bartender.

"Repulsive, I know. You made that clear this morning," he mumbled.

"No. I don't find you repulsive at all. You're still you. That's what matters most. I'm sorry I snapped at you. You were right. I was embarrassed from walking in on you," I stated, toying with my straw. He set down his mug as he turned his body to face me. Our eyes locked and his lips were on mine before I even registered his movements. His hands came to cup the back of my skull, my own reaching up to keep them there. The kiss was soft and gentle; sweet like maple syrup, even though he had been drinking beer. His thick beard scratched my skin, tickling my lips when we took a breath only to go back in for one more. I pressed closer, my fingers crawling to latch in his long Viking style hair, his arms wrapped around my waist, gripping the fabric of my hoodie. We broke apart, foreheads touching, breathing hard.

"So does this mean you accept my apology?" I asked. He chuckled and placed a kiss on the top of my head, pulling my body into his side and wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

"Yes and much more. It confirms you like me as much as I like you. Let's go join our friends. I'm sure they'd enjoy our company," he replied. We walked down, hugging each other much to the surprise of our friends. Carol gave me a thumbs up and we continued celebrating until it was time to return home.

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oh-so-scenarios · 6 years

Text

ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟɪᴍᴇɴᴛɪɴɢ ᴀʀʀᴏɢᴀɴᴄᴇ [1]

Word Count: 3.3K

Genre/Warning: Angst, fluff, Jungkook x Black Female Reader, Prince AU, Royalty AU

A/N: Please excuse the errors.

⇾ Y/n Djan, Princess of Ghango, didn’t think much fun could come out of this trip to Korea. But oh how wrong she was.

Next ◀ ▶ Series Index | Masterlist

People look at rain in two different ways. At least that's what I've noticed. This separates people into different categories. Some people see rain as a hindrance. Rain kills people's plans and brings a grey cast on the day. While there are others who find the rain relaxing and peaceful, those same people often listen to rain sounds to sleep or sit by the window with a book in a cliche manner.

Then there's those like me. I believe I am at my best when there is rain falling from the sky. My mind is clear, my heart is lighter and my thoughts flow better. The rain speaks to my soul, whether it's a faint drizzle or violent thunderstorm, the rain speaks to me.

My mother often says it was raining the day I was born, though I can't say I believe her, seeing as everyone's recollection of that day differs. However, moments like this are what I appreciate the most. Sitting out on my balcony watching the rain falling from the sky in a strong and direct force. A cold wind like mist sprays my way, where I sit just out of reach of the raindrops. My red cedar swing bed swaying with my every movement. I only break out my daze when the music in my ears changes. The music switches from Sam Smith's soothing voice to the booming 808 of an afrobeat hit by Davido. The music in my ears was just background noise. Or at least it became background noise when my brain focused on the book in front of me.

Now the blaring afrobeat love song with repetitive lyrics was a distraction, conflicting with the tame and quiet atmosphere the rain was creating. At that moment, my urge to read disappeared. I closed the book, taking note of the page I ended on. Though, I highly doubt I'll remember it. I'll probably wind up reading the same chapter again.

I stare at the cover of the book, not really sure what made me pick this title from my father's big but old book collection. 1984 by George Orwell was the title and frankly while gazing at the torn cover, with pieces of the image chipping away, I made a mental note to find a different book to read. The premise and concept of the story leave me uneasy and uncomfortable.

There isn't too much disturbing about the plot of the book, but rather the self-placement I constantly do when reading a novel. The thought of being set in such a world as the one created by George Orwell in this novel leaves me irritated.

There's a saying that there can't be much growth without discomfort and that saying is true. But I know from experience, that forced growth brings even more discomfort which causes one to shrink away. Which is why I've stuck to reading sappy love stories that involve some generic and basic catch. Cause that's where I'm comfortable.

I chuckle at myself. Where exactly am I comfortable? In my own mind probably, in which I make everything seem less annoying and less burdensome. I set the book on the swing beside me, and proceed to stare out at the layers of rain pouring forward. Once again, the music becomes background noise as a ping echoes from my iPhone. I look down in time to see the notification for a text message.

(7:23 PM) Glaids: Y/n.

I can't help but feel irritated by the single text, but it's just so Gladis. I can't be mad since I know Gladis. Gladis' personality cannot be translated over text message. Being as she is my older sister, I've spent enough time with Gladis to get used to her ways, but it's often that I get tired of her simpleness and strictness.

Who needs parents? I had Gladis. Everything my parents were lenient about, Gladis made up for it. I always saw her as more of a nanny than a sister, and can't say our relationship is any more than that. I can't say I know much about her as a person. Sounds cold, doesn't it?

I don't know her favorite color, favorite food or even what she likes to do in her spare time. My parents began shipping me off to different countries for school, and she wasn't one to call or check up on me. The few times we did speak over the phone, it was a stiff conversation.

"How are you?"

"I'm good."

"Well, that's good. Are your classes okay?"

"Yeah."

That was about it. It was awkward, but straying outside those things brought discomfort, so I never bothered to reach out to her.

I type back, Yes?

I stare at the text conversation for a few moments, expecting a quick response and I was right, The bubble with three dots appear quickly and a text bubble appears with the words, We're needed in the dining room.

My face scrunches up in confusion. The dining room? My parents usually don't call for dinner till 8pm. Have things changed in the time I left? That's what being sent to study abroad for years will do to you. The norms of your home are suddenly foreign and small changes seem to trigger a feeling of missing out or loneliness.

I pull the earphones out of the phone, standing up to smooth out my black running shorts. I take my phone in my hand and slid the glass door open to enter my room. My bare feet are greeted by the soft and expensive feeling carpet. I close the glass door behind me and slip on my house slippers.

My long sleeve mustard gold crop top rode up as I walked to the double doors that led out to the long hallway. I step out, unable to suppress the shiver that passes through my body. Unlike my room, the hallway had the AC blaring. The cool air harshly smacks my bare legs and gains the reaction of goosebumps instantly. I stroll down the wide hallways of the palace, the same red and gold carpets spread all about. The tacky dark green walls haven't changed, though I wish they would. I make a turn down the hallway and see a group of servants and maids huddled up, giggles ripping through them.

My steps slow and my ears tune into their conversation.

"Did you see her?" One of them chuckle, "she hasn't changed a bit. Stiff, quiet and angry looking." She crosses her arms over her chest as she speaks.

"You don't know that!" one protested, "Maybe London did her some good."

"Be real Jewel," Another maid exclaimed, "nothing could get that girl to open up. Everyone in the kingdom knows the only reason his highness sends her abroad is to get her to lighten up. There is no one in all of Africa willing to wed that guarded prick Oli-"

"Princess Y/n!" Another maid chimes in panic. She looked up and locked eyes with me, shouting out a greeting to conceal any other careless words that were spilling from her peer's lips. I could almost physically see the sheet of terror floating onto the servants and maids. They froze and their shoulders become stiff.

They slowly turn around and show me faces of embarrassment and fear.

"Ms. Y/n," The one called Jewel says, curtsying slightly, "I-I...w-we-"

I yawn casually and cut off her words, "have you seen Gladis around?"

They throw glances at each other and shake their heads, "No. we haven't." Jewel answers. It seems that she is the leader of this clique.

She is a beautiful girl. Jet black box braids twisted in a fancy updo that compliments the shape of her face. Dark flawless skin without a pore in sight and though her eyes were tired, it didn't take away from her beauty. She can't be any older than 19, what is she doing being a servant?

"Any idea why I'm being called to the dining room?" I ask another question. They all shake their heads no and I sigh.

"Thanks anyway," I say beginning my stroll past them. I am contemplating whether I should say a sly remark, but before I know it I'm too far away. I continue down the hallway, glancing at the same painting and pictures that haven't moved so much of an inch since my absence.

Paintings of relatives and those who came before us. Though all the portraits are of family, I can't say I recognize a single face. My face sure isn't on there and I don't expect it to be. What impact have I left on this country?

My thoughts are cut off when my body crashes into something warm and unmoving. My phone falls out my hand and tumbles onto the ground. My gaze drops to my phone before looking up to see what cause they clash.

"Princess Y/n," A kind voice says while familiar eyes gaze at me. My lips turn up in a genuine smile and I take a small step back from the tall man towering over my 5'4 stature. I bend down and scoop up my phone, shoving it into my pocket.

"Uncle Kwame!" I exclaim. I move to hug him but notice the books and papers that filled his arms.

"Princess Y/n! I heard you've been back for a few days now! My, how you have grown." He smiles that same smile of his and I snicker.

Kwame has been assisting my father since they were children. Though my father has the power and assertiveness, he never really had the brains. Kwame was the brain behind my father. Every decision and choice my father makes is run by Kwame first. He has wisdom beyond his years, being 5 years younger than my father, he looked older.

The stress of his job turned his black hair grey and his smooth skin to many wrinkles with bags under the eyes that won't disappear no matter how much he sleeps. His hairline has receded some and he now suffers from weak knees, made clear by his urge to sit down while groaning. He often unconsciously rubs his knees while he face scrunches up in discomfort.

"Yes, I've been around." I reply simply, "But I haven't seen you. Where have you been hiding?"

He chuckles as if remembering a funny joke, "I've been on vacation because my wife gave birth."

My mouth opens wide in shock, "Wow that's wonderful! I didn't know she was pregnant, congratulations."

"Thank you, Princess, we are thankful for our healthy baby boy. We certainly were not planning for another child."

I laugh, "I'm sure you weren't. But that's good to hear that he is healthy."

"Oh excuse my rudeness, how was London?" Kwame askes. I let out a tight sigh.

How was London? Ugh I want to say awful, but I don't want to worry Kwame. It's always like this, it's always been like this. The question stays the same and the places change. How was America? How was Germany? How was Sweden? Now it's how was London?

I can say I've been studying abroad more than I've been at home in Ghango. Started with a few years in New York where I stayed with some distant family for a few years of elementary school. I was back home for a summer before being sent to Germany from elementary to my second year of middle school. I started and finished high school in Sweden and just graduated from a university in London. Despite all the time I've spent abroad, my accent when speaking is still slightly noticeable.

Now here I am, back home or a place that is supposed to be home. My father's excuse was always that he wanted me to have a more global outlook, but what is the youngest daughter of a King going to do with a global outlook? Am I not just going to be married off to the prince of another African country?

"London was good. I've returned with my bachelors in English and World Languages and it's so good to be home."

"I'm sure it is. Now if you'll excuse me, Princess, I have travel plans to make." Kwame takes one step forward, but I quickly step in his way.

"Travel plans? My father is traveling?" My brows furrow.

"It seems so."

I roll my eyes, "Another pointless meeting?"

Kwame shrugs, "Who knows? I must be on my way, Princess." Kwame swiftly leaves making me groan in annoyance. Not at Kwame, but at my father.

"What a fool," I whisper to myself.

For a man that wants his daughter to be global, he sure wishes the opposite of his nation. Ghango is a country sitting on the west coast of Africa.

A country of many resources. Gold, diamonds, coal, cocoa and much more. We have been blessed to have land that is fruitful in its results yet my father, like his father before, refuses to share this with any nations. The country of Ghango does practically no exporting or trading.

My father does not trust countries within or outside of Africa, so we fend for ourselves and provide for ourselves. My father speaks of how he will not export to any country because they do not and will not offer him what he wants. I can't be sure I know what he wants.

However, my father, King Anthony Djan decides to entertain meetings with various country leaders although his mind is already made up. Wasting people's time and money is what I say. His narrow thinking will get this country nowhere.

Yet, he wants me to be global? For what?

I hope my eldest brother Kofi will be that one to change such a stiff policy.

I walk ahead to the double doors that lead into the dining room. I push them open and find Gladis and Kofi already seated at the table, that was lacking for by the way.

"Hey, Kofi. Gladis." I greet as I entered the room, walking further in and taking a seat across from Kofi at the large rectangular table. He sat beside Gladis who showed me a small smile.

Kofi has changed so much in the last four years, though I saw him when I initially arrived days ago, I still cannot bring myself to believe that this tall man in front of me is my older brother. He's gone from looking like a young man to a full grown King.

"You know," He begins, "For someone who has been gone for years, it doesn't seem like you've missed the family at all."

I roll my eyes at his childish tone. "Oh yes! That's right! I called every week because I can't stand you poor people of Africa with thick accents and dirty hands! I think I am above!" I let my sarcasm ring through the dining hall earning a snicker of amusement from Gladis.

Kofi leans back in his seat with a small grin. That grin hasn't changed much. Kofi was always the perfect balance. He was kind and fun when needed and serious and focused when needed. With him being the oldest child and the only boy, he was always loved more. No matter how my father denied it, there was no doubt about it.

From birthdays to treatment around the palace. It was clear he was favored not only among my parents but among the people of Ghango.

The doors swing open and my mother and father proceed inside. This is about the 2nd time I am seeing my father since being back. I don't have much to say so I simply watch him with void eyes.

I caught my mother's eyes and grin widely at her. My mother has been the one to call me every chance she got, send me letters and gifts on my birthday. She has been in my face since I've arrived back and was kind enough to give me this day to myself.

We spoke no words because nothing needed to be said.

They take their seats and we sit in silence for a moment. My father, thin grey beard and all, turns to glance at me. I almost expect him to say something. A hello or "we've missed you, Y/n." Although I know better than to expect such treasure from him.

He looks forward, his eyes trained on nobody in particular as he speaks.

"As the royal family of Ghango, we all have a duty. We have a duty to the people who respect us and even those who hate us. It is our job to do what is best for Ghango and to continue to see the growth of this wonderful nation." He spoke in our native language.

"It is our duty to do our parts, whatever they may be, to raise this country to up to its greatest potential."

Where is he going with this?

"I want nothing more than the best for all you. You are my children after all. I want all of you to take part in molding Ghango for the generations ahead of us, I don't want any of you to be spectators, simply watching as change happens. You all will be active participants in any way seen necessary." He pauses, glancing at my mother who nods encouragingly.

"I am considering trading with South Korea." He says.

His words echo in our minds for some silent moments. The first giggle escapes from my brother before Gladis and I follow suit. Our laughs ring through the room as our father watches in serious silence. Our laughter dies down and my father grimaces before sighing.

"I am being sincere this time. King Hyungsik Jeon has been able to sway me." He announces.

"Wait," Kofi says, "seriously?"

"Very seriously," He confirms.

"So you'll be traveling?" I ask before I could think about it. Of course, I already know he's traveling, Kwame told me so.

My father sets his eyes on me, "No. You will Y/n."

My heart dropped at his words and my shoulders sunk, "What?" My voice comes out shaky with anger.

"You can't be serious, I just got back home!" I protest.

"I will not trade with just any country, Y/n. I need to know the people of the nation, the royal family of the nation and just how society is in that place. South Korea's King has made a good offer. So you and Gladis will stay in South Korea for six months to-"

"Six months?" I shout, "Isn't that a bit much?"

"And why do I have to go too?" Gladis' voice was steady and calm but anger was burning in her eyes.

My father stays quiet for a second after our outbursts, "You and Gladis will stay in South Korea for six months to fully understand how the people of the country are, how the royal family functions, and just what the country stands for. After those six months, you will report to me. You and Gladis will ultimately be the ones to decide the fate of this deal. You'll leave in a few days."

I scoffed, "So this is why you made that fake deep speech about all of us shaping this country for future? So you could ship me off again?"

"Y/n!" My mother hisses. I shake my head, laughing humorlessly.

"This is an important deal for your father, so he wants to make sure he is taking the right steps." My mother explains.

"Then he should send Gladis or Kofi! I just got home, why do you all hate having me home so much?" My voice grew thin and strain while tears started to burn my eyes and blur my vision.

"Kofi has his place here." My father says sternly.

I stand up from my seat, "And I don't?"

"Y/n, it's not like that." My mother pleads.

"Your mother is right," My father says, "you're taking this wrong."

I shake my head in disbelief and walk towards the door.

"Just say I'm your least favorite child and get it over with." I spit before opening the door and storming down the hallway.

A/N: I am also posting this same Fanfic on Wattpad, except on Wattpad, there is a OC in place of Y/n.

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