#because you ruin the social life of middle schoolers

[thevampireazula]

The most embarrassing moment of my life will always be the one time, in good old 2016, that my class’ cool kids invited me to the cinema. And I was like “sure it’ll be fun and I’ll have lots of new friends by the end!”

And everything was going perfectly, ok? I was cool, I was funny, I was having fun. Except for one thing.

The movie was Trolls. The original one with the evil Bergen and yada yada.

So imagine my shock when, out of nowhere, Branch screamed “BECAUSE SINGING KILLED MY GRANDMA” and began the flashback of his dead grandma and how he had her killed.

And, listen, I’m not a crier during films, but when I tell you I can’t watch that scene TO THIS DAY because I bawl like a toddler.

Because I’m extremely close to my grandma. And the idea alone sends me hyperventilating. It literally only happens with dogs, moms and grandmas. The sheer bad luck I had that day smh.

And in that moment I was like “it’s ok, it’s dark, no one will see you, you can wipe your tears away and no one will notice”

… and then the lights turned on for the halftime intermission

And all the cool kids in my year turned towards me and found me looking like the crying Jerry meme

And they all began to fuss over what happened, handing me tissues and what not

And the coolest girl asked me “hey, what’s wrong, did something happen?”

And I replied, in the most pathetic voice on earth…

“S-singing killed his grandma…”

And everyone looked at me with pure disgust.

After that day, none of them talked to me ever again.

And now, every time I hear on TikTok that mother effing audio of “BeCaUsE sInGiNg KiLlEd My GrAnDmA” I get flashbacks of the pure horror that was the moment the lights turned on in that fanned cinema.

(Tbh that year I made friends with the people I’m still currently besties with, so it didn’t go as bad, but damn the second hand embarrassment I get every time that audio pops on my fyp…)

[imdead770]

I love the one you did for Steve, could you do a best friends to lovers for Johnny too?

Johnny Cade x Reader - Childhood Friends

Authors Note - Why are there so many requests for childhood friends?? Not complaining though, keep requesting Enjoy!

▪︎ I think Johnny was pretty shy as a kid

▪︎ Didn't raise his hand, rarely spoke, the one kid teachers would say to 'talk louder' when he read to the class

▪︎ You met whenever the teacher rearranged the seating chart in 3rd grade

▪︎ You were either

A) Super social

Or

B) Just like him

▪︎ If you're super social it worked out flawlessly

▪︎ You answered questions for Johnny

"Can you answer this one, Johnny?"

"..27.5..?"

"What was that?"

"Oh, he said 27.5. He's right."

▪︎ Probably got you in trouble a few times

▪︎ "I'm the teacher of this class!"

▪︎ "Let him talk for himself!"

▪︎ He was eternally grateful for it, though

▪︎ You helped him come out of his shell

▪︎ If you were quiet you two would have an unspoken bond

▪︎ Like you barely talk but you're best friends

▪︎ You have the same problems as him so he relates to you

▪︎ Either way, you two bonded

▪︎ By middle school you were still helping him out

▪︎ I think by now he had the gang

▪︎ But say the gang was off doing their own thing, you'd bring him into your friend group

▪︎ Again, eternally grateful

▪︎ Another thing he's grateful for, you always stood up for him to the socs

▪︎ Whether you're a soc or a grease, you always told them to fuck off

▪︎ You beat some girls ass some time because she called Johnny a pathetic quiet kid with no friends

▪︎ She had to get nose surgery

▪︎ 💀

▪︎ You tell him all the gossip (if you're into that)

▪︎ Like he has blackmail on everyone because of you

▪︎ By high-school he still looks like a middle schooler

▪︎ He's kind of jealous of how you matured so fast

▪︎ Like here he is looking like a 13 year old

▪︎ You're over here looking like you could be on the cover of vogue

▪︎ You helped him see he's lucky, though

"Johnny, when we're 70 years old, I'm gonna look like a pile of ashes and you're gonna like 20."

▪︎ You would've said 'plus you look cute', but you didn't want to ruin the friendship

▪︎ He comes to your house instead of the lot

▪︎ Sometthing about you comforts him

▪︎ Maybe because you're the only one in his life who can calm him down

▪︎ Remember that one time he got jumped?

▪︎ Once he got found by the gang he immediately wanted you

▪︎ He knows the gang couldn't comfort him

▪︎ Sure they'd try, but you could help him

▪︎ Two-Bit hauled him on over to your place

"Heyy, Tw-.. Johnny, what the fuck..?"

▪︎ Even though the gang was really worried they couldn't help but give each other the look

▪︎ The 'ooh she likes him too' look

▪︎ Only for a second though, the next they were helping you patch him up

▪︎ You were holding him, trying to calm him down

▪︎ Which surprisingly somewhat worked

▪︎ He wasn't trembling anymore, just a bit shaky

▪︎ Now that he looks back on it that's the moment he fell head over heels for you

▪︎ Nobody's ever cared for him like that

▪︎ Not Dal, not the gang, not his parents

▪︎ Nobody could calm him down like that

▪︎ He was way more grateful than he was in 3rd grade

▪︎ Now that the jumping has passed

▪︎ He's a bit more awkward around you

▪︎ Just a bit

▪︎ Cause he's literally in love with you

▪︎ And you're like

'Shit, was I too clingy? God, he hates me'

▪︎ Completely clueless he's liked you since you first stood up for him in elementary

▪︎ I don't think Johnny would ever tell you

▪︎ He can't do feelings, he's been hurt too much

▪︎ Eventually Dal has had enough of it

▪︎ Sometime he finally remembers to talk to you

"Listin', ya gawta tell Johnny cake 'bout you crush. Neither of ya' are slick, get it ova' wit."

▪︎ Accurate New York accent right there

▪︎ I think, I don't know

▪︎ Anyways, back on topic

▪︎ I'm going with the social character here

▪︎ Sorry introverts

▪︎ Eventually you finally get the guts to tell him

▪︎ It's one of the nights you're in your room together, casually sitting together, talking

▪︎ He's mid sentence, but if you wait you'll loose your sudden burst of confidence

"Hey, Johnnycake?"

"So-... Yeah?"

"Yknow I care for you a lot, yeah?"

▪︎ He's already blushing

"Uh.. yeah"

"What if I said I like you?"

▪︎ Pure silence

▪︎ He's blushing his ass off

▪︎ Eventually he gets out the words stuck in his throat

"Like.. like like?"

"Yeah.. like that."

▪︎ Couldn't even speak

▪︎ He's too flustered

▪︎ But at the same time he's super happy

▪︎ But it's still awkward

".. I like ya' too."

"Yeah?"

"..Yeah."

▪︎ It didn't end with some romantic kiss, he's not ready for that

▪︎ You both just smiled at each other

"Mkay.. so, what were you saying about Steve?"

▪︎ He's still blushing, processing

▪︎ Smiling.

"I got no idea."

[bellysoupset]

"Figured where do I know your face from," Vince said, sitting in front of Max in the teacher's lounge. Mr. Daniels was pushing the food around on his plate.

"Yeah?" he asked, uninterested, "where's that?"

"You broke my arm when I was 10," Vince glared at the other man, who let out a little snort, still staring at his plate. When Vince didn't chuckle too, he frowned and looked up.

"Wait, you're serious?"

"Yeah," Vince sat before him, eyebrows raised, "you're the big kid in the playground who bullied me when I moved here."

Max let out a groan, letting his fork fall back down on the plate, "aw man, I'm sorry. Middle schooler me was a shithead," he grimaced, "I don't remember breaking anyone's arm, though, I'm really really sorry."

Vince rolled his eyes, unimpressed, "well, but you did..." he frowned then, noticing Max waxy pallor, "what's wrong with you?"

"Generally? Right now?" the other man shrugged, quirking an eyebrow and causing Vince to let out an annoyed sigh.

"We've established you're a shithead generally, so I meant specifically at this moment," he clarified and Max let out a chuckle at that, scratching at his cheek.

"I think it's just a hangover," he shrugged.

Vince raised his eyebrows, on a Tuesday? Damn whoever said teachers didn't have fun.

"Shithead indeed," he sighed, getting up once more, "don't hold my kids back today."

"Sure, sure, I never do," Mr. Daniels waved him off and Vince wrinkled his nose with annoyance, before walking out of the teacher's lounge.

Most teachers ate in the lounge, but it wasn't a requirement, so Vince went to the parking lot and found a nice bench in the shadow, unwrapping his lunch and scrolling through his social media. It was a nice break after a morning packed with kids, to be reminded the adult world still existed out there.

Luke had already flooded his DMs with memes and there were two texts from Wendy, one being an outfit check of her in gym clothes that had his heart skipping a beat.

Vince typed a cheeky response to her texts, smiling at his phone, only to hear a snort.

"Well, hello, Mr. Monacelli," he would recognize his sister's voice anywhere. Sophia's hair was up in a ponytail and she sat next to him on the bench, "why are you smiling at your phone?"

"None of your business, now, is it?" Vince scoffed, "where's the rest of your mean girls pack?"

"Hurling up their lunches in the bathroom," Sophia said, jokingly putting her finger inside her mouth and Vince wrinkled his nose in distaste. He really couldn't understand how his middle sister had such an acid sense of humor, nothing like the rest of the family.

"That's horrible to say, Soph-"

"Yeah, yeah," she rolled her eyes, criss-crossing her legs, "you can't embarrass me in class."

Vince snorted, "embarrass you?"

"Yeah," Sophia glared at him, "none of your i'm-a-cool-teacher jokes, nu-uh. Don't even mention you're my brother, you're gonna ruin my reputation."

"I'll make sure to fail you, just so they know there's no special treatment," Vince turned back to his sandwich, "or maaaybe I'm gonna bring up your super embarrassing crush on my best friend."

"Are you never gonna let that go?" Sophia jumped up, glaring at him, her cheeks turning red, "I was a kid!"

"It was literally six months ago," Vince grinned, "get out of my sight, kid."

"You're so mean," she pouted, "I'm gonna leave you a terrible teacher review."

Vince rolled his eyes, chuckling as the girl stomped away. He loved her dearly and it was really nice to be back in her life, but Sophia was also the most annoying person he knew.

She was also a senior, which wasn't a good thing, because Vin was already struggling to make the older kids respect him and he knew it wouldn't be any easier if his influential little sister decided to make his life a living hell in the classroom.

Hopefully Sophia was just bark and no bite.

It was to no one's surprise when his last class rolled on and yet he met an empty classroom. Vince sighed, glancing at his watch. Fucking Daniels, again.

He was going to strangle that man.

Vince was already ready to stomp out of the room and forcefully retrieve his kids, when suddenly the door opened. He straightened up, ready to face the swarm of frustrated teenagers, as they always were after chemistry class, but instead it was just Sophia.

Alone, which was all the more worrying, her blue eyes were huge on her face.

"What's wrong?" Vince asked, talking over her as his sister said:

"Mr. Daniel's is really sick and we don't know what to do... Can you help?"

Oh great, Vince thought, stepping out of the classroom, "what happened exactly?"

"He was off all class, but we said nothing- And then like, just now he suddenly stopped talking and barfed everywhere and-" her voice dipped, switched to Italian as Sophia groaned, "it's so gross, Vin."

Vince sighed as he followed her down the hallways to the chemistry room, "why didn't you call up a nurse?"

"We didn't want to get him in trouble..." Sophia frowned, planting her hands on her hips, "you're not gonna get him in trouble, right? He's cool."

And hungover, Vince thought bitterly, but despite his feelings he nodded, "I'm not," he promised, "stay out here, I know vomit makes you sick."

She let out a grateful sigh, slumping against the hallway wall as Vince entered the room.

It was truly a sight to be seen, fucking spectacular. Vince had no idea how he was supposed to not report the fact that Mr. Daniels had somehow managed to puke on his own boots and in a large puddle in the middle of the room.

He was folded in half, bracing against one of the tables and most of the teenagers were pushed to the opposite side of the room, looking completely horrified.

"Alright everyone show's over," Vince said, gesturing to the kids, "you have history class now, go get some water and then to the classroom, shoo."

Despite his somewhat harsh words, most of them looked visibly relieved there was an adult in the room. Vince cringed as he saw some kids that were almost green with sympathy nausea, he just hoped he wouldn't have to deal with that as well.

Once the classroom cleared out, Vince approached the other teacher, who was still mute, save for a couple hiccups and little sniffles.

"Okay... So hangover, uh?" Vince couldn't help but say, touching the man's back and Max let out a loud groan.

"No," he rasped, "no way this is a hangover. I'd never- Not in front of them..." his voice trailed off and he shuddered violently, "my head is killing me."

That didn't really help his i'm-not-hungover case, Vince thought, forcing the shorter guy to straighten up. He immediately grimaced, realizing why Max had stayed in that position. There was vomit down his band t-shirt and clinging to his auburn beard.

Without thinking Vince touched his cheek, then forehead and let out a sigh. The guy was burning up.

"I have good news and bad news," Vince said, side stepping the beige mess on the floor and pulling Max to a clearer patch, before pushing him to sit down in one of the chairs.

The blonde fell like a ragdoll, spreading his legs and wrapping an arm around his stomach, "good news is that I didn't shit my pants?"

Vince scowled, "good news is that you're sick, so this means we can tell the nurse and you're not gonna get penalized for hurling in front of the kids."

Max let out a little huff at that, "terrible good news-" then he hiccupped and groaned, "get me the bin..."

Vince couldn't believe there was anything in the guy, after seeing such copious amount of vomit. He also couldn't help a wave of sympathy as he thought of how much Mr. Daniel's reputation was fucked after getting sick in front of the seniors.

He planted the bin in front of the guy and then crouched next to him, carefully pulling Max' curtain of blonde hair and tying it on the back of his neck, "you're gonna be fine for a minute? I'm gonna go get a janitor."

Max let out a sickly burp inside the bin, raising a thumb up.

Once Vince got back in the room, now followed by the janitor - Maurice, who was also a relic from his school years - Max had folded on himself all over again, both arms wrapped around his stomach, head resting on the school desk.

"Man, c'mon," Vince sighed, frustrated, "try and help yourself, the principal is gonna have your head..."

"Uhm," Max groaned, "I don't- I don't feel well..."

Maurice let out a snort, "you'd think he's feeling fine after throwing up everything he ever ate," the man teased and Vince couldn't help but chuckle at that, grabbing Max' arm.

"You'd think," he agreed, pulling the blonde up, "c'mon, nurse's office. You have someone who can pick you up?"

"What...?" Max's gaze was all dazed. At least he had managed to clear the vomit from his beard, probably with his hand and wiped on his jeans. Vince grimaced at the mental image.

"Someone to come get you?" Vince repeated, pulling the guy down the hallway, "you're out of it."

There were curious faces on the hallways, kids out for a bathroom break stopping to watch them and Vince sped up, causing Max to stumble and collapse against his side.

"I'm gonna hurl again," the man mumbled and Vince shook his head.

"C'mon, we're almost there-" he wrapped an arm around the other teacher's waist and pulled Max against him, making them walk even faster.

The minute they got inside the nurse's office, Max turned to the big flower pot and heaved, his whole back arching as he let out a deafening retch and brought up a mouthful of bile.

"Goodness heaven's, Mr. Daniels!?" the nurse exclaimed. Mrs. Doyle was elderly and never used to do anything back when Vince was a student but tell the kids to go back to class. At least now she couldn't tell them that.

"He's got a really high fever," Vince said, keeping a hand planted on Daniels' back, as the man braced against the wall and continued to heave, not a thought given to Mrs. Doyle's sad palm tree, "and he's been sick," a lot, Vin mentally completed.

"Uhm- Well, he can lie down in my office... I'll get him so gatorade, until he feels-"

"Just let me go home, for fuck's sake," Max groaned, his voice all raspy and Mrs. Doyle frowned at the swear word.

"I don't think I can release you when you're this sick, I need-"

"I'm not a fucking kid," Max turned to glare at her and Vince stepped between them, glaring at the man.

"Then don't behave like one. You can't drive like this, either let Mrs. Doyle call someone or sit in the office and wait until classes are over and I'll drive you," he said strongly, causing Max to raise his dazed eyes at him and scowl.

"There's no one to pick me up," he groaned and Vince sighed, dropping his shoulders.

"Then go lie down, I'm just gonna finish my class and I can drive you," he turned to Mrs. Doyle, who was stunned into silence, "he can stay, right?"

"Of course..." She frowned, "you're the Monacelli's kid? Little Vince?" she suddenly held her hand down to her hip and Vince blushed, while Max let out a raspy chortle.

Vince nodded, his whole face aflame, "I'm gonna go, I have a bunch of teenagers to calm down. Hopefully you're not contagious, otherwise our lives will be hell for the next weeks."

Max groaned, stumbling forward towards the nurse's office, "yeah, don't count on it."

[passifaggot]

sorry gang i'm on a writing roll so here is

Ash's Thoughts About Every Winner + A Bonus

Wife, this is your warning. Do not look under the cut. You will be spoiled for literally the entire series.

Also I do briefly mention self-harm towards the end so if that is a trigger for you, I would recommend either scrolling or not reading the massive paragraph at the end.

Dr. Will (BB2) - There's a reason he's an iconic winner. He's a bit of an asshole but he's a lovable asshole, much like my dad.

Lisa (BB3) - Now, do I think a bitter jury contributed to this win? Yes. Is this win still deserved? Yes. She was a strong player in her own right and I'm still happy she won.

Jun (BB4) - One of my favorite winners. Basically invented the floater strategy that other houseguests try and fail to replicate to this day.

Drew (BB5) - Honestly, I have not dived very far into this mid-stage of the old seasons but I guess he's okay.

Maggie (BB6) - Not a big fan of her, tbh.

Mike Boogie (BB7) - There's a lot of shit that happened outside of the game that sours my opinion of him.

Evil Dick (BB8) - Ok, listen. He's a character I can say that much. But, there was a lot of production protection around his win. I don't think he would've gotten as far without America's Player.

Adam (BB9) - I haven't watched BB9, and I probably won't.

Dan (BB10) - What can I say about Dan that hasn't already been said? He is a BB legend and probably the best winner.

Jordan (BB11) - Yeahhhh, no.

Hayden (BB12) - I have conflicting thoughts about Hayden. Is he kinda responsible for Derrick? Yes. Is he entertaining to watch? Yes.

Rachel (BB13) - Ok I gotta admit, I'm not the biggest fan of her in 13, love her in 12 though.

Ian (BB14) - Ian is my favorite, if you have anything negative to say about him fuckin leave.

Andy (BB15) - I refuse to watch BB15.

Derrick (BB16) - See my future "Derrick Levasseur Ruined Big Brother & I Don't Respect Him As A Person" longpost.

Steve (BB17) - I am extremely biased towards Steve. BB17 was the first season I watched and the first to make me fall in love with Big Brother. If you asked my dad, he would say Vanessa was robbed. And I kind of agree, but also don't. We didn't have good enough internet for the feeds at the time so there's a lot of shit we missed.

Nicole (BB18) - I hate Nicole Franzel. I am tired of seeing and hearing her and I do not care if she lives or dies.

Josh (BB19) - 19 was a garbage dump as a season which makes it only fair to get a garbage dump of a winner. Only Kevin winning would satisfy me because he was the only bright spot in this hellhole of a season.

Kaycee (BB20) - Honestly, I don't give a rat's ass about this season. I was on Discord most of the summer so I didn't get to connect with a lot of the players.

Jackson (BB21) - Why do we award racists? I only watched the first half of the season because I was so angry.

Cody (BB22) - The only good thing he did was evict Nicole. This season made me stop watching until midway through BB24 because all of the Pre-Derrick players were evicted for trying to, yknow, play the fucking game how it was meant to be played. So tired of white boys.

Xander (BB23) - I have not gone back & watched BB23 in its entirety due to certain events in my life happening at that time because I fear it may trigger me and ruin my excitement for Big Brother.

Taylor (BB24) - It's what she deserves. She is 2 in my top 3 favorite winners, those being Ian, Taylor, and Lisa.

Jag (BB25) - I don't think you should win if you were evicted, but that's my opinion.

And finally, our bonus player:

Paul (BB18 & 19) - I have incredibly mixed feelings on Paul. When they played in 18, I thought they were the greatest person on Earth. They were cool and funny and had awesome style. And to an autistic middle schooler who couldn't keep up with the changing tides of the social hierarchy, they meant a lot to me because we were already very similar. So I mirrored them. I mirrored them HARD. They were everything I wanted to be as a person. Instead of being the kid who got bullied all the time, I could be cool. To this day, Paul is a really special houseguest to me because they provided an escape from the newly developing self-hatred and urge to harm myself. I'm older and healthier now, so I don't value my worth against people but they were a bright spot in a dark time in my life.

Then BB19 came along. And I felt betrayed.

Why was the person I looked up to suddenly acting like the very thing I was escaping from? It genuinely hurt a lot. And because of those feelings that still linger today, I still feel like that 12 year old "girl" who didn't know what was wrong with them whenever I see clips of Paul on BB19.

Thank you for your time. See yall on Thursday.

[valentinesweetheartspecial]

I don't go here Do tell us about the gay ones in the top left

Maybe you will have to go here when Kimisute drops in the summer 🙇‍♀️ Nah joking. I’ll osmosis all the good stuff to my beautiful tumblr audience on my own. I will now give a brief summary of the gays in the top left ❤️

Epsilon Phi, stylized as εpsilonΦ, are the fifth and final band of AAside (kimisute is gonna add another band so I’m just talking in AAside terms). They’re made up of one middle school student and 4 high schoolers, making them the only band in AAside to have minors! Formed by Shu Ujigawa at the request of his father, they’re a edgy techno-rock band whose songs are entirely written and produced by Shu, with some brief exceptions such as Egoistic Sai Phi, I’m Picking Glory, Heroic, etc. As of now, they only have one album out, Friction, which has pretty much all of their songs. The album cover looks suspiciously like a ripoff of Perfume’s LEVEL3 lmao. They have a mascot that’s an axolotl that’s kind of a bitch

I’ll now introduce all the members❤️the boys that make epsilon the dysfunctional band that it is . Uh this will probably be long so readmore again

Next is Haruka. Already wrote about him. He is their guitarist and vocalist and a guy . Here’s my fav card of his isn’t he so cool

Next is Kanata Nijo, the ever infamous twin brother of Haruka! He’s Epsilon’s bassist and most socially adjusted member, but far from being the most normal. He’s an all-around fun guy, and is popular with his peers, but doesn’t have any particularly close friends. Kanata is completely dedicated to Haruka, and seemingly goes out of his way to make his life a living hell. He blames Haruka for their separation, and claims that the reason he makes him suffer is because Haruka was the one to pull away from him in the first place. It’s clear and even stated in-game that Kanata’s sense of self, which revolves around Haruka, is fragile and almost nonexistent, and when challenged leaves him completely defenseless. Kanata’s marketing is some of the worst I’ve ever seen and it’s kind of sad because it make him seem like freak bait, and boy did it work (shudders). He is so close to being gyaruo take the step Kanata. Do it. Yeah he’s kind of ugly in AAside this card is fine I guess

Next up is Tadaomi. I will be brief since I want to write about him for Kiara’s ask. All I will say is that Tadaomi is a FREAK who plays the synthesizer and he might be the most fucked up epsilon member. Here’s two cards of him having a #girl moment

The final member is Reiji Karasuma! He is in his 3rd year of high school, Epsilon’s drummer, and Shu’s personal assistant 😭 he’s in never ending hell. He is polite and appears to be rather a rather mature young man but just like the rest of Epsilon he is insane. He hates Shu more than anything in this world even when he has to go along with anything he says and is often wishing immediate death upon him. He’s absolutely using the band to take revenge for his family, who was ruined by Shu’s father’s company (iirc). I’m not sure how he’s going to do this Lmfao good luck reiji I guess. Yeah I’m not super informed on him if you wanna read about reiji i know a good twitter user who posts about him all the time. Look at this stupid shirt he’s so funny. Btw in Kimisute they chopped his long hair side Rip but also Thank you.

I hope you enjoyed this brief look into Epsilon! If I had to recommend one of their songs and it couldn’t be Orthros I’d probably go with re:play. Yay

[kaistarus]

The Only Exception

Pairing: NishinoyaXReader

Words: 2.2K

Summary: Nishinoya was genuinely happy with his life. He’d gotten used to being by himself and had accepted the fact that that was how it was supposed to be. Until you came along and threw everything he thought made sense out the window.

A/N: I really like this fic. It’s one of my favorites Nishinoya ones so far just because it’s his pov and timeskip and the amount of love feels makes me happy. i got a lot of serotonin while writing it :D

Masterlist

Nishinoya had never been someone’s first choice.

He knew that sounded dramatic, but it was just a fact of life. The sky was blue, Tanaka could chug three-fourths gallon of milk before vomiting, and Nishinoya was never anyone’s preferred option--which never bothered him so keep the pity to yourself.

He learned to accept this when he never got scouted for the All-Japan Youth Camp and after the only person Nishinoya ever even kind of loved ended up loving his best friend. It taught him to keep his expectations low and to focus on things he could control, which was what led him to solo-traveling Japan and then the world. He realized things might be better on his own, and with the constant itch that he was missing out on something bigger traveling alone just made sense.

But then you came and ruined everything.

Hold on. That came off way more aggressive than Nishinoya wanted. He meant there was a perfect vision for how his life would go-pyramids in Egypt, Hollywood sign in Los Angeles, deep sea fishing in Italy-until he toppled over you in the streets of Italy. He’d been sprinting toward the docks when you stepped out of a marketplace and he collided into you, knocking you flat on your butt and sending your groceries all over the sidewalk. Nishinoya fumbled through his best apology in broken Italian while shoving produce into your paper bag, but froze in surprise when you snorted rather than began an enraged lecture.

He swore his heart actually stopped when your eyes met. You were clearly amused by his flustered behavior and when his heart started back up it was abnormally fast. Not once had he understood what Tanaka meant when he explained the first time he’d seen Kiyoko, but the first time Nishinoya saw you everything Tanaka said clicked. If Nishinoya had been fifteen he probably would’ve proposed to you on the spot.

But he wasn’t, so instead he shakily handed you your groceries with furiously red cheeks.

“Come ti chiami?” You asked with a raised brow.

Nishinoya blinked several times. He racked his brain for what he’d been taught on his last fishing trip, but it was mostly curses and inappropriate sayings he should probably avoid using. He was pretty sure Duolingo mentioned ‘chiamo’ as name though.

“Nishinoya?” He answered like a question and felt relief wash over him when you nodded.

“What are you doing this weekend, Nishinoya?”

He stared blankly before pointing at you with wide eyes, “I understood that.”

“Well you obviously don’t know Italian,” you rolled your eyes and he pouted at the incredibly accurate jab, “so, are you free?”

He looked around the empty street before pointing to himself. “Are you still talking to me?”

“Is there another Nishinoya around here?”

“I mean, there could be.” He looked up thoughtfully. “The odds would be crazy though.”

You laughed lightly which made a warmth creep up his neck. “I’m talking to you. I’m trying to ask you on a date.”

He looked at you like you’d grown a second head. “Why?”

“You’re attractive and you seem nice,” you cocked your head to the side. “Is that not a good reason?”

He stared at the ground intensely. “I guess… It is?” Then his original reason for being there struck him and his eyes widened. “Oh shit. I have to go,” he started leaving before quickly coming back. “Wait, I, uh, yes. Yes to the date thing.”

You chuckled, pulling a cellphone from your pocket to let him hurriedly create his contact before continuing his sprint to the docks-with a teasing recommendation not to knock anyone else over. That literal run in was the moment his entire world view became out of whack.

It wasn’t that he thought he was immune to liking someone-high school Nishinoya fell for any breathing human that gave him attention-he just lost the ability to imagine someone liking him. Maybe he’d been by himself too long or maybe that was just another fact he’d grown used to. He didn’t know anymore.

He did know that when he showed up at the restaurant thirty minutes early-there’s only so much pacing someone can do before they go insane-he hadn’t expected to see you. Just sitting on a bench beside the main entrance, looking too perfect while bouncing a knee and nibbling on your thumb nail as if you were nervous to be there.

Except it was only him, so that wouldn’t make sense.

“Hey,” you said when you spotted him standing in the middle of the sidewalk like an idiot.

“You’re here,” he raised a brow. You took it as the time, but he meant it in a general sense. He truly hadn’t expected you to show up.

“Oh,” you chuckled awkwardly, twisting the material of your clothes. “Yeah, I was kind of nervous.”

He mulled that over for admittedly too long, but it just seemed like such a stupid thing to say. It wasn’t that you looked stupid, but that’s what made it so confusing.

“You’re also early.” You pointed out when the silence became awkwardly long.

“I was nervous.” He said like it should have been obvious.

“At least we’re starting on equal ground,” you said with a shaky breath.

Equal ground? He wasn’t sure his brain was cut out for this type of critical thinking. He’d even spent the past few days planning for every scenario-even you sneaking out the bathroom like in the movies-but he never pictured you being nervous.

“Uh, yeah,” he tapped against his leg while glancing through the window at the half-filled dining area, “we can probably go inside.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” you gave him a quick finger gun before whipping around with shoulders to your ears.

Nishinoya blinked several times before looking back down the street. A part of him thought about running, saving you both from the shitty date to come filled with awful conversation starters he’d pulled from an online article for high schoolers. However his fate was sealed the moment you sent a gentle smile over your shoulder and his feet began following you through the door without his permission.

Ever since that day he’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop. Ever since you giggled behind your hand instead of wincing at the terrible jokes he regretted the moment they left his mouth; ever since you weren’t burdened by the need to translate for him the whole night; and ever since you were amused rather than annoyed at his nervous rambling and awkward icebreakers.

It was just too good to be true.

Like the first time you came over and teased him for the cheesy dialogue in his favorite action movies. How his chest ached when your head rested in his lap and you gazed at him with overwhelming amounts of affection. He’d never dreamed he’d have this-couldn’t have if he tried. Sharing his favorite things with someone while they traced designs against his palm and occasionally sealing them with featherlight kisses. The fire it sent up his arm was too much and not enough and he hadn’t realized how much he’d wanted this.

It was a little scary how much Nishinoya didn’t want to lose it.

And that thought started keeping him up at night. Nishinoya was never really scared of anything-it was kind of what he was known for everywhere he traveled. If anyone needed something done they asked the foreigner with a death wish. So, the idea that you had that effect on him was, again, terrifying.

But what was Nishinoya supposed to do when you press your forehead against his in the middle of the night? Running your fingers through his hair and paying special attention to the blonde strands he’d always been secretly self-conscious of, whispering low how they were one of your favorite things in the world. How could he regret anything when you rubbed your nose lazily against his and kissed him softer than he ever deserved? He didn’t give a shit how scared he was if it meant he could stay like this, with you, for as long as you’d let him.

Because his heart raced a million miles a second when you mindlessly held his hand under a table or leaned against him just to be close. Because for some reason he was the first person you called when you were excited or when you needed comfort. Because when he rambled too long about spearfishing or an old friend’s volleyball game your eyes lit with genuine interest rather than annoyance. And because he was in love with you.

Which he both wasn’t prepared for and had known was inevitable. Falling for you had been like getting hit by a semi-truck he’d seen coming for miles.

It probably happened sooner than socially acceptable, but that didn’t surprise him given his all or nothing nature. This outcome was decided the moment Nishinoya knew he’d be fine with you breaking his heart a hundred times if it meant he could keep waking up next to you cascaded by the rising sun because he was still too lazy to invest in curtains. Just you cuddling closer to him for warmth in your sleep would make every ounce of pain worth it.

Once Nishinoya’d acknowledged his feelings it was nearly impossible keeping them down. With every breathtaking smile, or brush of your hand against his, or bubble of laughter that rang throughout his apartment it nearly spilled from his lips like a breath. It took all self-restraint he had to hold it back. And it wasn’t that he didn’t want you to know because you deserved this piece of him-every piece of him.

He just wasn’t sure you’d want it.

His resolve lasted nearly a month-a month longer than he thought he was capable-before the feeling was too intense for him to keep down. And it wasn’t anything drastic that made him break. No, it was something so absurdly casual that he was almost pissed at himself when the words flowed from his mouth.

It had been a completely average morning, nothing crazy, the weather was actually gross with rain pounding against the windows and the sky a depressing shade of grey. But then you stepped out of his bathroom while rubbing the sleep from your eyes, giving him a lopsided smile before slurring a soft request for breakfast. It was like time froze and he was in a stupid romcom except you were there so it was actually an oscar nominated masterpiece.

Your head lolled to the side, half-lidded eyes filling with concern at his silence. “We can cook together. I didn’t mean it like-”

“I love you.”

That seemed to wake you up. Your body straightened while your mouth hung open in stunned silence. Nishinoya had expected this kind of reaction, so he clenched his fists tight in preparation for the worst.

“Are you sure?” You asked, barely above a whisper. “That’s a pretty serious word, Noya.”

He knew that. Nishinoya had spent too many nights losing sleep over that.

“You scare me,” he confessed, deciding if he was going to dig his grave he might as well make it deep. “I’ve never really been the one someone chooses. More like deal or settle with.” He grimaced when his heart squeezed painfully in his chest, “but I love you more than I thought I could ever love anyone and that scares me. You make me feel wanted and I don’t know what to do with that.”

“Because I do want you.” You whispered and his stare locked on yours so quickly, meeting your loving gaze while his heart started racing. “And everyone you know must be really stupid because I feel lucky I got to choose you. I get to love you.”

He stared at you wide-eyed while his chest swelled with so much emotion he was surprised he hadn’t passed out.

“Sorry, that sounded really lame.” You placed a hand against your forehead and Nishinoya shook his head vigorously.

“I think that was the greatest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

You stepped closer and cradled his face, gently brushing your thumbs along his cheeks. If he wasn’t so manly and awesome he may have teared up, but he definitely didn’t. Which was why you obviously weren’t wiping any water off his cheeks before pulling his lips against yours.

Nishinoya set a languid pace that turned desperate when you tangled your fingers in his hair. He pulled you as close as he could, which was never enough, snaking an arm around your middle and sliding one to cradle the back of your head. 

When it got heated enough that he decided he’d very much like to move it to his bedroom Nishinoya’s stomach growled and you snorted against his lips. Nishinoya pouted, whining when you pulled away with a playful smirk.

“Later,” you said, pinching his cheeks and waving his head around. “Food first. We’re both hungry.”

He did love food.

He disrespectfully watched you leave him in favor of searching the fridge for food that could be thrown together for breakfast. A dopey smile covered his lips because he loved you. He was lucky enough to get to love you. And for some ridiculous fucking reason you were dumb enough to love him.

He would do whatever he could to keep it this way. For now, that was helping you cook breakfast. Tomorrow, who knows? But whatever it was you would be there, so it would be pretty god damn amazing.

[dharmadischarge]

Top 5 Novels: or it gets dark around here early.

So now I am trying to say something. That is all. No, that will not do at all... Here is a list of my top 5 novels, with one short review and four long ones.

1, Jim Dodge - Stone Junction. Reading Stone Junction by Jim Dodge is like meeting the father you never had

2, Thomas Pynchon - Gravity's Rainbow Subtlety is overrated... and just because you have a boner doesn't mean you're a terrorist. I mean, it doesn't mean you're not causing those rockets to come from the sky. But, still, that is beside the point.

For me, this book is about obliterating the arbitrary distinction between high and low culture. The ironically arbitrary distinction between good and evil and the dangerously subtle distinction between despondency and hope.

Fractured, layered, elusive, you could accuse Pynchon of all these things.

The way characters bleed into one another to make one voice. A hellish symphony of discordant cries of pain reaching out to a belief that there is a light at the end of the tunnel and paranoia is the glue.

Also, it is funny. Like in a dumb way and there are songs. Also, dumb.

Everyone will talk about how polarising this book is but I don't believe it. you can follow the bouncing ball and sing along or live in fear that at any moment the terror will become real and you will collapse into ellipsis...

It is the third and newer testament. An epilogue to western culture as racist cultural energy written by a crazy white guy. T.S. Elliot and his wasteland were a prelude, in hindsight, nothing but a john the baptist-like figure for the cross that Pynchon presents to all readers as their burden to carry with this book.

Hope is crazy painful, consciousness is such a fragile thing and the burden of consciousness is the pain of knowing that (beyond the act of effort itself) it is a futile one.

Jim Dodge once said, "a stone falls till it hits the earth, transcend what?" and that about sums it up.

3, Cormac McCarthy - Blood Meridian.

Blood Meridian is a kind of repetitious, primeval-hillbilly level of primitive interpretation of the morality expressed in the book of revelation fighting its way onto the page as barely literate poetry.

It is not a book of social niceties, justice, or the warm feeling you get when you do something good. also, this book could also easily be seen as porn for serial killers.

I scanned the reviews and saw all the campy (and not the good kind of campy) parodies this kind of book inspires in the age of irony we live in (though it seems like it is on its last legs). And while I like me a good parody, I find that Eli Cash did it better.

There is something to be said about how Cormac McCarthy (ab)uses the English language. The one good line I read from one of the negative reviews of his books was that a middle schooler could list what he doesn't like about the kids who bully him and that this list would have more emotional nuance and better use of punctuation than a Cormac McCarthy novel. This is fair.

The conceptional power of Blood Meridian though is that it frames cruelty and violence for what it is: reality. While also through its sometimes monotonous exaggeration of William Faulkners styled repetitions it creates a sense of unreality. A sense that like David Lynch's best work that we are walking, daily, through something so evil and violent that it borders on slapstick, and at last we laugh in self-defense.

I think the people who parody the book without much thought got trapt in the intellectual self-defense state that is part of coping and couldn't see the forest for the trees.

Civilization is a fragile thing, it is the human race trying to domesticate itself, and the longer it goes on the more it seems like we're just sweeping what we don't like under the rug.

4, John Crowley - Little, Big.

There is a kind of hokey-Americana style kitsch that most of my favorite writers could be accused of, from, Tom Robbins to Jim Dodge. John Crowley may be the peak of it. It could be because on the surface Americans don't have a unified culture we are a melting pot with capitalism only encouraging the lowest common denominator (the pursuit of greed as its own reward).

But in any creative act that does not presume to be the literal expression of anything but pure gratitude, there is politics. The politics of worth, of greatness, inherent value, and the desire to prove that the wisdom offered was truly earned. That a difficult pleasure does not mean that there is none.

This is an American fairytale. A once upon a time that seems eerily to remind of another Crowley, that codesigned the deck of Thoth tarot cards (A really good one for those curious) more than the writers of magical realism. And probably because I didn't read this in translation I preferred it to a hundred years of solitude. This may seem random to people of the fantasy crowd who know that genre is only a limitation to artistic merit if you want it to be (usually for cultural-political reasons). but people often compare this book to Gabriel Garcia Marquez's writing. And while they are both family chronicles with supernatural elements. this is kind of a shallow comparison.

Crowley's work is more in the tradition of an occult mystic, and Gabo is more a romantic using personal folklore as the vocabulary of that romantic expression (of which I think love in the time of cholera, is his masterpiece).

I am trying to not give away any spoilers, or even talk about specifics at all. but the ending is worth it. Like most things in life, it's your journey to go on so I won't ruin it for you, but they are out there waiting for you, where the lights never go out.

5, Neil Gaiman - The Ocean at the End of the Lane.

"words save our live's sometimes"

I was a frustrated borderline feral child, who could not deal with reality. My parents taught me how to read and not much else. I was homeschooled and weighed three hundred pounds by the time I was thirteen. I remember one night unable to deal with any more abuse that I laid down and decided my dreams would have to be enough, I close my eyes and went away for a long time. Lettie Hempstock's ocean is real to me I almost drowned in it.

When I was a teenager the cult-like fundamentalist atmosphere of my home life became less extreme, but the damage was done. I was still in the ocean. it says something about my state of mind that the closest I came to getting traction on reality was starting a habit of reading insistently, my favorite book was Stardust by Neil Gaiman.

Once on Twitter, I told him "thank you" for writing it. I later after reading this book I wrote a short review of this book and sent it to him. He said "thank you" to me in a @ mention. It was nice. I later @ mentioned him in a playfully sarcastic way and he deleted his original comment.

I was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia when I was twenty-four or twenty-five. I have been told I had childhood-onset schizophrenia. I have been told I milk it. I have been told that I self isolate.

I have been writing reviews tonight, going through my favorite books, and just live streaming my mind. Thinking about how they made me feel and what they make me think. Neil Gaiman's work always makes my brain retreat on itself. Possibly because of stardust. But more than that it is the wisdom he has. He knows that stories are true in a way that transcends a mere list of facts. communicating for those with an ear to listen that there is more than what we know, there is more than our understanding, there is more than us. More than you, more than me. There is an ocean that is healing for some while necessarily absent for others.

We forget, and we remember. Each other and ourselves. Cruelty and innocence. But there is an ocean and it is Lettie Hempstock's.

[riarushi]

nct as cousins.

❥ genre- serious crack, fluff ❥ word count- 1.7k

Alternatively titled “NCT at Family Gatherings”. I think the universe wanted me to write this? Thank you to markleeholdingthings on Instagram for helping me out! (We made the most basic family dynamic on the planet.) ~Ness

➵ 

Taeil

Talks to the adults and enjoys it.

Some of the babies originally thought he was their uncle. 

Not necessarily close with any of his cousins except the older ones that took care of him growing up.

The younger ones aren’t too familiar with him since he doesn’t talk to them, but he likes to give them little trinkets when he sees them. 

Will offer to supervise the kiddos if they want to go outside. 

Has a music degree (big no no in this stereotypical family) and works in music production.

Johnny

The cousin that’s stuck in college, everyone loves him but the adults don’t think he is a good life example to the youngsters.

Second favourite of the adults (because the favourite has a degree and a job).

Likes talking w his fellow millennials while sipping his wine

He likes to give advice to high school cousins.

The baby cousins fear him :( He smiles at them lots and gets them the best presents to make up for it. 

Is probably still in college because he doesn’t want to join the adult table.

Taeyong

Taeyong likes the babies. 

He’ll sit them on his lap while he talks to the adults, making sure to play with them a bit so they don’t get bored. 

If they do anyway, he’ll get up and carry them back to the rest of the cousins, chatting with them for a while. 

The adults think he would make a great father. (Some of the nosy aunts and uncles like asking about his love life lmao) 

He treats the cousins around his age or older with respect. 

Overall everyone likes him because he’s happy to talk and easy to get along with.

Yuta

A social genius, he tailors his approach perfectly for every generation.

Has to greet every single child at the reunion before doing anything else. 

Every moment you look at him, there’s a different youngster in his arms and he’s high-fiving a different high schooler. 

Well-mannered with the adults and friendly with cousins of all ages. 

The high school-aged cousins love that he doesn’t treat them like angsty teenagers and he’s become a favourite among them.

Not jobless, to the relief of the parents.

Kun

Kun is the favourite, the cousin everyone gets compared to. 

He’s always busy working so he’s usually late to family gatherings. 

Is basically whisked away by the adults immediately to talk about adult things. 

He asks high school cousins “How’s school?”. Chill with them because he saw them grow up.

Has a huge soft spot for the baby cousins.

He’ll be in the middle of a conversation and drop everything when they tug on his sleeve.

Doyoung

Quiet, he does and talks about anything but only when he’s prompted.

He’s as successful as Kun, but not as sociable. 

Sits beside his parents most of the night and minds his own business. 

Doyoung’s awful at supervision. 

He just sits there and watches the kids make chaos.

His relatives get shocked when they see him outside of gatherings acting casually with his coworkers/friends.

Ten

He just got out of college but decided to take a year break before looking for a job. 

Is a kid favourite. 

Even though he’s one of the older cousins, he’s the most “hip with the kids”.

Teaches them how to cheat on tests and in general, be an awful student. 

Ten does not enjoy the adult table.

All the parents think he’s talented and has a lot of potential but will he!! Stop ruining their children’s minds!!!!! 

He only gets friendly with the older cousins when he’s wine drunk. 

Has never met the baby cousins. (The adults are sheltering them from the chaos that is Ten at family gatherings.)

Jaehyun

Jaehyun starts off by greeting the adults and being the sweetheart he is.

The adults always want to know about his love life because “Our nephew is very handsome, no?”

Hangs out with the older cousins later, drinking beer and chatting away like best friends.

He enjoys watching them fight with each other. 

Probably the youngest at his table, gets teased quite a bit. (”Yoooooo, Yoonoh’s growing up!”)

The younger kids aren’t really familiar with him.

Winwin

The favourite among the youngest cousins. 

They get excited to see him every time he arrives at family gatherings. 

Participates in their games (They like making him count for hide and seek.) and sits with them while eating. 

He spends very small amounts of time with the adults, quickly answering any questions they have about his life. 

The older cousins think he’s cute :( 

After the little ones go home, he watches whatever drinking game his generation has gotten into.

Jungwoo

Jungwoo is a free soul.

He’s just there to entertain himself, watching whatever cartoon the little ones are watching.

When they turn around and see a grown man on the couch, they’re a bit startled.

The adults think he enjoys taking care of the kids, but no. The boy is there to watch Tom and Jerry for his own enjoyment. 

Nobody remembers that he’s an engineering student, one moment he’s watching Blue’s Clues and the next he’s leaving to finish an assignment for class. 

The high schoolers try to ask him for advice, but he just says “I literally don’t know what I’m doing.”

Lucas

This boy walks into every family gathering dressed like he’s gonna be on a runway. 

Enjoys talking to the high schoolers about how their school’s changed since he graduated. 

Other than them, he joins any conversation on invite. 

The youngsters climb him like he’s a playground item. 

There’s just kids hanging off him while he laughs at some joke his uncle made. 

Sometimes, they shout “Big brother Yukhei!” into his ear and he just pats their head silently before continuing on with his business.

Mark

Follows his parents around.

He’s wrapped up in his own thoughts instead of whatever his mom is talking about with his relatives.

I’m kinda hungry, should I grab that cookie? I’m gonna grab that cookie. 

At some point, his parents get fed up with him “acting like an eight year old,” so he gets sent to play with his fellow cousins. 

Asks for the WiFi password and then sits on the couch all night scrolling through his phone. 

He doesn’t talk to his cousins because he never knew how to.

Xiaojun

A sweetheart with the most patience. 

Same question from every single adult about school? No problem, he’ll answer it as many times as he needs to. 

The youngsters like to pull pranks on him because they know he won’t scold them afterwards.

“Did we get you good, Dejun-ge?” “Yeah, I almost had a heart attack, haha.” 

Helps the babies get food. 

Just has a great family bond with everyone.

Hendery 

Hendery likes to look for the older cousins that take care of him, initiating conversation.

If they’re busy or stop talking to him, he goes to the crowd of younger cousins on the couch and chills with his phone.

Occasionally, he’ll show them all some memes he has.

“Haha, guys look at this one.”

Mimics the children screaming in the background to get some chuckles from them, too. 

The adults don’t think much of him, he’s a chill kid doing his thing.

Renjun

He’s quiet and polite for the most part, especially towards the adults.

With his cousins, he jumps in to say one-line roasts about people mentioned in conversation and then goes back to being silent.

They might say something like “My school friends are so weird!” and Renjun simply replies with “Makes sense why you’re friends, then.” 

One of the baby cousins likes to hug his leg, and he smooths their hair or holds their cheek absentmindedly.

An art major, but the adults aren’t worried since he’s smart. 

When alone in a room, he’s doodling on some scrap paper he found.

Jeno

Close with the cousins around his age.

Has a group chat with them and texts them to come to the living room. 

When they arrive he just goes “Wanna play Spaceteam?”

He plays party games with them for the rest of the night. 

If the other cousins want to join in, he’ll teach them how to play. 

The adults don’t think much of him, they usually just ask how he is and he replies with “Good!” and a smile.

Haechan

Haechan is The Annoying Cousin™. 

He comes off as very cold and bitchy usually. 

At family gatherings, he participates in games and gets overly competitive.

WILL cheat or flip the table, causes all the chaos.

The parents aren’t a fan of him, the kids either love him or hate him.

Older cousins think he’s entertaining lmao

Jaemin

Normal until some random kid screams his name. 

From then on he is in full kindergarten teacher mode.

Brings an entire crowd of noisy toddlers to the tables and everyone is just in shock. 

His older cousins know he’ll come around and chat with them once the kids go home, so they save him a bottle when he gets there. 

The adults have a good image of him: handsome, smart, charming. They think he’ll get married early. 

It’s a celebration if his mom announces he’s seeing someone.

Yangyang 

Starts heated debates among his cousins. 

If he’s in the zone and an older cousin tries to put an educational twist on the argument, he’ll start bullying them out of the room.

“From what I learnt in college--” “THIS IS A DEBATE AMONGST THE YOUTH.”

Two seconds later, he’s back to being friendly and cheery, talking casually and normally. 

The adults don’t believe their children when they tell them what happened upstairs with Yangyang. 

They think he’s the sweetest kid of the bunch.

Chenle 

Chenle is just comfortable and gets absorbed in the atmosphere.

“Chenle, go play with your cousins.” “Hey guys! My mom said to play with you”. 

All his cousins get along with him. 

He thinks the baby cousins are cute and will baby them. 

Lets them sit on his lap while he plays card games. (Probably lets them choose cards for him sometimes, too.) 

Youngest of his generation, everyone loves him to pieces.

Jisung

He does not want to be at the family gatherings. 

Awkwardly trails his parents because he doesn’t know what to do. 

Has to be pushed towards the food by relatives and just goes “Oh. Um, okay.” 

The older cousins ruffle his hair and ask him, “Aye, Jisung! How’s school?” “I-It’s good...” 

The younger ones do not find him approachable. 

Asks his parents when they’re going home as soon as 9 PM hits.

[ycstodcy]

[george sear, cis-male, 23 ] Let’s give a warm welcome to one of Sparkwood’s finest, DANNY FENTON !! Before coming here, HE once lived on the pages of DANNY PHANTOM. Though now they currently spend most of their time as a ASTRONOMY STUDENT. If you ask the townsfolk about what they are like, you will hear that they are HELPFUL but also DISTRACTABLE If they had a theme song it would be LAYBACK - VERIVERY.

full name: daniel ‘danny’ fenton zodiac sign: libra sexuality: bisexual

danny born into his family consisting of his parents and older sister jazz was a happy child for the most part. he and his older sister got along really well, and his parents were always active in his life especially school. his life was normal nothing to write home about until he was a bit older. come middle school danny was embarrassed by his parents most of the time. the two were scientist with big dreams and goals to help solve some of the world problems. 

the issue was, his parents often preformed experiments at home causing things to catch fire, explode, or anything like that. he was often known as the kid who had crazy parents making him an easy target for school bullies or isolation. it was hard to make friends because he was never comfortable having them come over never sure what his crazy mother and father were up to. 

because of this, his relationship was strained with his whole family. his sister supported their parents and their desperate endeavors while danny couldn’t due to it ruining his social life. it made him distant from his family and often trying to stay away from home by the time he was a high schooler. it surely didn’t help the idea that his parents really pushed the idea of danny following their path as well only hindering things more.

his sophomore year was when his family finally woke up and realized that their dreams weren’t danny’s. coming into the family lab at the house one day danny went to talk to his parents while they were working resulting in a toxic chemical splashing onto his hand forcing him to be hospitalized. it was then he expressed that he didn’t want to be like that and how much he wanted to follow his own path and dreams. his parents disappointed but were understanding finally hearing their son loud and clear. 

for college he picked astronomy, wanting to follow his dream of being an astronaut,  a difficult one but he had faith in himself to do so, he may not want to follow his parents foot steps he did want to work in something closely associated with. sending him off to sparkwood to attend college on his own was something scary for the family and danny himself, but he knew he could be his own person this way.

[keeperofhounds]

Never Know Who’s Watching

You know who's watching, you need to all ways watch your back especially when you know you’re doing something wrong.

This is a fan work I make no profit off it. My Hero Academia belongs to its original content creators.

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

The teachers looked uncomfortably at the rat, dog, bear creature at the head of the table. Nezu didn’t seem all that put off by the pair of eyes staring at him, he was after all used to it. Why wouldn’t he be? He was an animal with a quirk, after all, this was bound to cause stares. This, however, wasn’t the cause of the stares.

Instead, it was a screen with what some might consider disturbing footage of a student threatening another student with their quirk. Not to mention all the comments, who appeared to be students from the same school, classmates of both students. Only the comments seemed to be focusing on all the wrong things, in fact, it seemed to be egging on the behavior.

One comment said, ‘Looks like he’s at it again.’

‘What did that loser do this time? Can’t he just keep his head down.’

‘Some people just don’t know how the world works.’

‘Who wants to bet that he said something dumb again. LOL.’

‘OMG, that kid is still around, I swore that he killed himself.’

Normally it wouldn’t be any of the teacher's business, this wasn’t any of their students. The problem was that the tags on social media clearly stated that the abuser was going to be a student at their school. UA takes its reputation very seriously, their students and potential students represent the school with their behavior reflecting on the school. To see such awful behavior in plain view being witnessed by their own possible student just goes to show the oversight on the school's part.

 Which is why the teachers were here. To make a decision on the boy in the video's future, ironically the other student being assaulted was also an incoming student. What should they do? Changing his homeroom teacher, it looked like they would be in the same class. Place him in general studies, that way he can get his act together. This wasn’t only the principles decision to make, it is the teachers as well.

Nezu linked his paws together, “So, what should we do about this incident?”

Thirteen raised their hand, “We can place him in another department, it’s too late in the year for him to apply for another school, at least even if it’s not Heroics he can still get an education.”  

“Wouldn’t that send the wrong message though?” Present Mic said, crossing his arms over his chest, “General Education isn’t a punishment, and a lot of the time students who didn’t make the cut to Heroics go through General.”

“That’s right,” Vlad King said, “I saw his exam scores, General would be a waste for him, why not keep an eye on him, if it’s a first offense then, I don’t see why we should ruin this kid's chances at becoming a hero.”

All Might was strangely silent to the entire discussion.

Nezu listened as the teacher's debate or argue over a course of action. In a perfect world Nezu could imagine helping this child on the right path, with them being able to achieve their true potential. It’s what any teacher would want for any child. In reality, though, some people can’t be helped by others. They had to help themselves before others could help them.

“Aizawa, this young man is supposed to be your student, it ultimately falls on you to have the final if any actions should be taken.

The shaggy-haired man glared at him tiredly, to him the solution was obvious to him. He had seen many punk kids before, growing up he even dealt with them. “ We revoke his acceptance.”

The teachers stared, that was too harsh.

“What a minute Aizawa, I get the kids a little rough around the edges,” Vlad said in the kid's defense, “but there’s no need to go that far.” 

Nezu raised a paw, silencing the homeroom teacher, “Can you explain why this course of action would be best?”

“It’s because he should know better. I don’t know about his home life or what he’s thinking, but I do know one thing, his behavior is unacceptable.” Aizawa looked at the principal in the eye, “The way he acts, shows that he’s done this before and to the same kid no less. This is a grudge that should have no place in a school environment, this behavior should have been stomped out ages ago.”

Nezu took the heroes' words into consideration. He’s right, like many times. This child was another one in thousands, they are a school for heroes and frankly, despite his impressive performance, he still has a lot to learn. He just hopes that the child could use this as a wake-up call, if he still aspires to be a hero then there is no reason why he can’t apply again next year.

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

Bakugo Katsuki couldn’t believe what he was reading, what the hell, right? Why was the greatest hero school in the world rejecting someone like him? The stupid letter was making bullshit claims about him being out of line or some shit like that. He read the letter:

Dear, Mr. Bakugo Katsuki

    Thank you for your response to our letter of acceptance. The Admissions Committee has discussed at length about your prospects for the upcoming academic year. It is with a heavy heart that we send you this letter.

     As you know, the Committee takes seriously the qualities of maturity and moral character. After careful consideration, the Committee voted to rescind your admission to UA High School.  

    We are sorry about the circumstances that have led us to withdraw your admission, and we wish you success in your future academic endeavors and beyond.

Yours sincerely,

Nedzu

Principle of UA High School

Bakugo exploded the stupid letter with his quirk, the fuck did they mean about rescinding his acceptance, this was complete and utter bullshit. He was leagues above everyone else with his kickass quirk and smarts. They were making a mistake if they couldn’t see the mistake they were making by rejecting him. This was shitty Deku all over again.

“Deku…” Katsuki growled, letting out a string of explosives from his hands, “it was him, it’s always him. THAT BASTARD!”

Katsuki stormed out of the house, but not before causing his mom to yell at him and him to yell back at the crazy bitch. Every time something wrong happened in his life Deku always had something to do with it. Getting accepted into UA. The sludge villain incident. Mumbling about heroes. That day in the stream. WHO THE HELL DID THAT BASTARD THINK HE IS!?

“DEKU!” Bakugo called from outside Izuku’s apartment, banging on the door, “GET OUT HERE YOU PIECE OF SHIT!”

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

Unknown to the explosive teen, Izuku wasn’t home that day. It was the weekend and he was off with All Might who wanted to spend time with him for some reason. Izuku had told his mother Inko that he was meeting with a friend, who helped him train for UA which technically wasn’t a lie, but not the entire truth either. It was just luck that he missed Bakugo’s rampage.

Inko, however, was home alone and scared out of her mind. There was someone at her front door banging on it, calling out a name. Inko didn’t see much point in trying to calm down the clearly feral individual at her doorstep, so she called the police.

Inko kept her tears at bay, glad that her son was out right now, who knows what he would have done. He was a sweet boy, so he would have tried to defend her. “Hello, this is the police speaking, what is your emergency?”

“There’s someone trying to break down my door,” Inko whispered trying to keep her voice steady, flinching at every bang at the door. “He keeps calling for someone, and he won’t leave, I’m too scared to tell him he’s got the wrong house, I think he might turn violent.”

“Don’t worry, help is on the way.”

Inko dropped the call. All she could do now is wait and hope the intruder doesn’t have any quirk that might be able to break down the door.

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

Back outside Bakugo could feel his anger and frustration rising, the bastard was ignoring him. Who the hell did that Quirkless reject think he was, ignoring him? Not that of it mattered anymore, all his hard work went down the drain when that letter came in. So Bakugo let loose all his power onto the poor door.

A scream was heard, from the inside of the apartment. Glaring through the hole, all the middle schooler saw an empty house, but someone was there, just not Deku.

It was probably just his bitch of a mom. Deku should have been out by now, it didn’t look like he was home. Bakugo kicked the door, he had come here for nothing.

Police sirens echoed from the entrance, along with the sound of rushing footsteps. Bakugo was met with hero rejects of police officers pointing guns at him. “Freeze, don’t move, and drop on your knees kid.”

Bakugo wasn’t stupid, he knew he was in trouble, he lost his cool and stomped to a nerds house. Bakugo went on his knees, there was no way he was going to be some villain in his story. He’ll get out of this and do what he is meant to do, he’ll win this and then everyone will be sorry.

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

Tsukauchi couldn’t believe the utter garbage coming out of this kid's mouth. Who the heck did this kid think he is? In what world did causing a public disturbance and threatening a single mother would be grounds for a slap on the wrist? The kid was taking it all cooly or as cooly as he could with his poor attitude. 

This kid was angry, but this was an entire level of anger. Thank goodness the person he was looking for wasn’t home, because, from the look in that kid's eyes, Tsukauchi would have been sure that the call would have been more serious. He fears that someone could have been dead in his altercation.

The police were able to take a statement from one Midoriya Inko, who couldn’t for the life of her understand what the boy’s problem was. Inko, however, cared very little, gave her statement and left hoping to put the entire ordeal behind her. Not that the man could blame her, it looked cut and dry to him. Not to mention that the mother had filed a restraining order for Bakugo to stay away from her and her family.

There will be consequences for this, he would make sure of it, not to mention he’s glad that her son had missed the entire encounter. The detective had heard a lot about him from Toshinori and it seemed like a stroke of bad luck that the kid would have had an encounter weeks before the end of the year. The least he could do was tell Toshinori that the kid's mom was alright.

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

Bakugo could only stare angrily at the entire thing. He was being treated as a common villain by people who couldn’t even cut it as heroes. He looked to the side at his “counsel”, some lawyer bitch who came in talking about how she would get the charges dropped against him. Before he could even run, her off his mom punched him over the head to shut him up and to accept her damn counsel.

Which is how Bakugo found himself staring face to face with her. A woman with a face so fake that he knew this was an act, she wanted something from him. “So, what do you want bitch?”

She smiled, “My my, what poor manners you have, how are you going to get out of this if you can’t even play the part of a troubled teen?”

“THE HELL YOU SAY!”

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you a plea deal and then this episode will be behind you.”

“LIKE HELL!”

The lawyer gave him a dead-eyed stare causing him to freeze, he didn’t know what it was all about, but something about her told him to shut up and listen, “I know you were just showing off your power, nothing wrong with that sweeter, but you gotta play the system, if you don’t then you end up here. Let me do all the talking and everything will be okay.”

Bakugo couldn’t help but believe her.

“Now look I’m friends with the judge, he’s going to send you to a special place where you can use your quirk all you want, as long as you don’t get cause everything will be fine, for now though,” the lawyer rummaged through her purse and placed a book in from on the restrained teen, “why don’t you catch up on some light reading.”

When the woman left Bakugo stared at the book reading the title, Meta Liberation War. 

[bubbyyerrr]

Broken Bow and Hochatown

5 Senses

Audio Reading:  https://drive.google.com/file/d/1PT2nvmg6Rn5rwvz6lqsgjeFvF_iRNzVz/view?usp=drivesdk

         Broken Bow and Hochatown look like a run-down Hallmark representation of a small town in the country. There are trees and wildlife everywhere and the lake and rivers are clear and (for the most part) free of pollution. The scenery changes a bit when hundreds of tourists crowd the one road and every camping spot along the lake, but they all seek the same middle-of-nowhere getaway.  The smell of Broken Bow- pine trees mixed with lake water and grills- persists through tourism's popularity.

           Broken Bow feels like a hot, sticky air constantly surrounding you and eventually being cleared by the breeze being carried above the soft waves of the lake. It feels like the first breath of fresh air when you step through the door of your home after a long workday. It sounds like high schoolers’ trucks with enlarged mufflers black-smoking and letting everybody in the neighborhood know that they have arrived. Broken Bow sounds like the warm hellos of a people that have known each other their whole lives because it seem like everybody here has.

           Broken Bow tastes like a confusing amount of Tex-Mex mixed with fast food and the occasional good burger. It tastes like local coffee beans and homemade ice cream. Broken Bow encapsulates the full feeling of a summertime feel good movie. The sights, smells, sounds, tastes, and feelings are all quite familiar to me, to the point where I have taken them each for granted. It feels of something unique and treasured by many for its beauty in the small things.

My Love for the Small Town

My experience with Broken Bow and Hochatown is substantial, seeing as I have lived there for the majority of my life. The irony is that I had to leave for college to realize its significance and impact on my life. In high school I was more than a little frustrated with my place of living. The “city” of Broken Bow had nothing for teenagers to do throughout the year. I wanted a bowling alley, a laser tag arena, a coffee shop, or anything else that a bigger city had. In high school, my friends and I would go to a parking lot adjacent to the Wal-Mart parking lot and sit in one person’s car and listen to music and talk. If we were not spending the night and playing video games, then this was our next best option in our eyes.

           I suppose there is a charm to its uniqueness, but I was quite blind to it having only experienced its lack of activities compared to other places. Teenagers of Broken Bow have it easy now. There are two coffee shops and a bowling alley is coming to Hochatown, I would not be at all surprised if a laser tag arena was soon to follow! I am quite happy with it, despite my obvious previous frustrations, however. I now experience it in mediation as a place to escape, as many many others have.

Sustain the Environment

Broken Bow and Hochatown should be preserved as an escape to pure nature with minimalized pollutants in the water and air. My hope is that every tourist that visits would share my view and take care of the environment of the small town. People visit this place because of the clear water and sense of peace with being surrounded by nature, and if that were to be ruined or contaminated, people would come here less and drastically decrease the business that the town has thrived from. The State Park of Beaver’s Bend is well protected, but I encourage anyone staying in cabins or camping to treat the nature around you kindly so that it may continue to welcome others who visit.

Come Visit you City Slickers

I would encourage anybody that has never been to Broken Bow/Hochatown to visit with a plan of activities for each day. Floating the river is a very popular choice among tourists and locals, and there are plenty of canoe and kayak rental places that will take you to the river and pick you up when you have finished your route. It is a great way to spend the day in the sun and water and encourages little competitions among families and friends or a peaceful journey for the lone wolf types. I would encourage newcomers to the area to come in with a fresh conviction to take a step away from staring at screens all the time. Beauty is not found in the lens of a camera but the purity of the moment captured by not only the sight but the sounds and feelings of the moment.

Source: https://www.vrbo.com/vacation-rentals/usa/oklahoma/broken-bow?noDates=true&k_clickid=CjwKCAjwuvmHBhAxEiwAWAYj-KvnJaKnEyvEjDVLuL5DySkqXXfVUSPAfUCi1V3-TquPPPTnJW-GCRoCFacQAvD_BwE&ds_cid=71700000080047762&ds_kids=p60860309934&ds_kid=39700060860309934&ksprof_id=700000002166899&ksdevice=c&ktarget=dsa-1183032255545&kloct=&klocf=9026684&ds_aid=58700006721571344&ha_t=:g:&gclid=CjwKCAjwuvmHBhAxEiwAWAYj-KvnJaKnEyvEjDVLuL5DySkqXXfVUSPAfUCi1V3-TquPPPTnJW-GCRoCFacQAvD_BwE&gclsrc=aw.ds

Covid Changes to Broken Bow

Whenever the pandemic hit, Broken Bow initially followed a soft lockdown and the majority of residents did not leave their homes as frequently. After a few people got it and got over it, however, this changed for the entire town. Many people ceased to take it seriously or their view of the virus became “If I get it I get it”.

Broken Bow and Beaver's Bend are located in an overwhelmingly conservative area of the United States. With that being said, you can imagine that many things did not change in Broken Bow for the most part. Our Wal-Mart asked people to wear masks, but they were ignored, and no employees enforced the mask policy or social distancing. While the franchise restaurants, excluding two, stayed the same and flourished from drive-thru and delivery experiences, the “Mom and Pop” restaurants were hit quite hard by the initial drop in business. One of our biggest, most-frequented restaurants in town, Papa Poblanos, was heavily impacted at first, but they introduced an “Order Online” option that brought a significant chunk of their revenue back to normal.

As the virus progressed and calmed down, tourism has spiked back almost as intensely as it dropped. The cabin businesses faired very well, as did all of the attractions in Hochatown. Every store and restaurant you go to, it is quite easy to point out who is a tourist and who is a local based on who has a mask and who does not. Throughout the rise and fall of the virus, Broken Bow has managed to maintain an optimistic attitude, and gives tourists from all over a safe haven to escape.

All of the following photos are from Broken Bow photographer, Matt Cameron. Matt has done photography for multiple cabins and the other photos are of Broken Bow lake, Mountain Fork River and a mountain in the Broken Bow area. Each photo is from his account on instagram, @cameronphotography.ok Link: https://www.instagram.com/cameronphotography.ok/

Now that you’ve been Convinced

1.     Prepare your budget. You should not worry about money on your vacation/detox so save money where you can, to enjoy it later.

2.     Gather your party. Do you have a group of people or your family that you’d love to escape with? If you’re going alone, this step is significantly less important.

3.     Prepare your mind and body for a change by adapting sleep and thought patterns. It can be very difficult to not think about work or other things while vacationing, so prepare yourself.

4.     Let people know ahead of time that you will not be on your phone as much (hopefully not at all).

5.     Look for the perfect place to stay. There are hundreds of cabins in Broken Bow, so find one you love!

6.     Reach out to the cabin booking services and talk about your favorite place. Get a good relationship with them so if you need anything while there, they can oblige easily.

7.     Look into possible activities that you think you might enjoy. While there is some awesome stuff to do here, you may not be able to do it all, so prioritize as much as possible!

8.     Plan out your days ahead of time. Make an itinerary if wanted, but do not be too strict with the timelines.

9.     Pack well! Your vacation is almost here, but do not get too overzealous and forget something. Make a list ahead of time and add on as the time gets closer.

10.  Make a banger playlist. No trip is complete without tunes to jam to. That road anticipation can be alleviated with some sick beats.

11.     Practice your most hick accent on the way. This step is crucial.

12.     As you arrive, just throw your bags on the bed and go eat! Get some experience and good food on the first day. My highest of recommendations to Grateful Head.

13.     Get that phone out of here! You will ruin it in all the water around here anyways!

14.     Enjoy every moment of the day. If you need a nap, take it. If you want a snack, you deserve it. Stick to the itinerary, but if something goes off schedule, that is okay! That is why you prioritized!

15.     Take a walk or a few out in nature before you go. You can take some time away from the constant distractions from everyday life and actually think in the sounds of nature. A vacation is nothing without a proper detox.

My blog over Broken Bow was an interesting one. I have written about my hometown before but never in this capacity and to this magnitude. My focus on the hometown and not so much the important events of my life in them was strange but welcome. My blog served as an homage to the place I grew up, even though I have not been overly fond of it. It became an appreciation of the roots of my parents and grandparents.

The colors used on my blog were the default colors of Tumblr. I am not sure how customizable the layout of blogs on Tumblr are. The pictures I used that I am proud of are the pictures of Matt Cameron, a wonderful photographer friend of mine. I wanted my blog to reflect a familiar place of peace that you could go to to collect your thoughts. The audience for my blog is people who have never visited Broken Bow or Hochatown before.

I put my blog together just assignment by assignment as I went through them. I feel it is strong in capturing the beauty of a small town getaway. The blog does not accurately depict the frustrations of limited activities there. I could relate the blog to my college career because of the surprising amount of musically talented people in Broken Bow. It honestly does not have much to relate to apart from the musically inclined people there.

This post was for Dr. Hembrough’s ENG 3903 course.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

So, I've spent the last four years of my life working hard to graduate college with a teaching degree. I love teaching and I want to teach and I spent almost 4 years working towards it (I graduate this coming May) last night I had a women tell me that I should be writing a will at 21 so that I can go into the classroom and teach so her kids can get "free daycare" or I should "Find a different profession if I'm so scared" (1/?)

Like, I get the importance of going back to school. I do but I really don't want to write my will at 21 years old. I want to be able to marry my fiancé and I want to be able to have kids of my own. I don't want to get other family members sick that could very well die from it. Yet this woman is telling me I must go back into schools because I "signed up fir this" I fucking didn't and I'm fucking terrified. (2/?)

The fact that baffles me is that she was so compassionless that she basically told me she was ok with me dying early in my life for her kids to have "free daycare". I'm sorry but I love teaching and have found my calling and am passionate about it. I'm not just going to find another profession and pull it out my ass. I literally wrote to her "You're ok with looking my mother in the face and telling her that you want her baby to possibly die for your kids to get in person classes?" (3/?)

And trust me, I understand the importance of in person classes but like...we can't right now and it would cause more trauma to the children because they wouldn't even be able to socialize, like at all. It hasn't worked for schools that have opened up. And people are saying teachers deserve a paycut because all of them are "teaching" their children (which they are not). I'm not even in the profession yet and I already feel under appreciated. (4/?)

I already feel like a lamb to the slaughter and like my life and my life goals are not important as long as Bobby and Sue get to have in person classes. No one signed up for this and teaching can be done remotely so why is there a push for everyone to go back. I mean 14,000 children could die. That's 14,000 families whose lives are ruined. That's 14,000 children too many to die because parents want to open back up schools. I don't understand endangering your own child. (5/5)

Oh my god. Dude, I completely understand how you're feeling. Education is definitely important but at the moment, is it really worth risking lives for?

I have 2 cousins who are teachers and they have the exact same fears as you. As someone who's worked with children this summer, it doesnt matter how young or prepared you think you are, kids still dont take this stuff seriously.

It's rough. I took care of middle schoolers and you would think they would have a better understanding of this situation. They dont. They still would touch each other, touch things they weren't supposed to, not wash their hands for 20 seconds.

I only had the deal with 10-12 kids, but imagine dealing with that kind of shit with 20+ kids. It's not okay.

And this woman who's giving you shit should fuck off. Like, holy shit shes basically saying she doesnt care about your life. She just wants to get her kids out of her hair. Like fuck outta here with this "free daycare" shit.

[whitehotharlots]

Liberal cruelty has consquences

This semester is winding down. As I am desperate to avoid grading student papers, I’ve spent the morning reading longish-form online articles. I just came across one that I feel very conflicted about. The online reaction to it as been troubling. So I don’t know if I have anything particularly coherent to say, but I’d like to talk about it.

The anonymously written piece is titled “What Happened After My 13-Year-Old Son Joined the Alt Right.”  It documents a young man’s journey from a garden variety, liberal-leaning goon to a frothing neo nazi mutant.

The piece is understandably sympathetic, seeing as it was written by the boy’s parent. The writer’s whiny and heavy handed tone caused me, and most of my e-pals, to dismiss it. If anything, the essay showcases an immense failure of parenting. If my child were to ask me to take him or her to a “Traditional American Culture” rally, I would slap the everloving shit of them. Lord knows how many times the kid’s parents had dropped the ball before it ever got to that point.

But then I re-read the start of the article, in which the parent identifies the trigger point for their son’s downward slide:

One morning during first period, a male friend of Sam’s mentioned a meme whose suggestive name was an inside joke between the two of them. Sam laughed. A girl at the table overheard their private conversation, misconstrued it as a sexual reference, and reported it as sexual harassment. Sam’s guidance counselor pulled him out of his next class and accused him of “breaking the law.” Before long, he was in the office of a male administrator who informed him that the exchange was “illegal,” hinted that the police were coming, and delivered him into the custody of the school’s resource officer. At the administrator’s instruction, that man ushered Sam into an empty room, handed him a blank sheet of paper, and instructed him to write a “statement of guilt.”

No one called me as this unfolded, even though Sam cried for about six hours straight as staff members parked him in vacant offices to keep him away from other students. When he stepped off the bus that afternoon and I asked why his eyes were so swollen, he informed me that he would probably be suspended, but possibly also expelled and arrested.

If Kafka were a middle-schooler today, this is the nightmare novel he would have written.

At a meeting two days later with my husband, Sam, and me, the administrator piled more accusations on top of the harassment charge—even implying, with undisguised hostility, that Sam and his friend were gay. He waved in front of us a statement from the girl at the table and insisted that Sam would need to defend himself against her claims if he wanted to prove his innocence. But the administrator refused to reveal the particulars of the complaint (he had also blacked out identifying details, FBI-style) and then hid the paperwork under a book. He declared that it was his primary duty, as a school official and as a father of daughters, to believe and to protect the girls under his care.

Eck… who edited this? It would have worked so much better without a fucking Kafka reference.

So, maybe it was the tone. I dunno. But most readers seem to regard this section as exaggerated, possibly fabricated.  The takeaway was “boo hoo, the nazi kid got punished for sexually harassing  a girl.” Heck: If a reader is truly dedicated to the #BelieveAllWomen mantra, then this description doesn’t warrant sympathy even if it’s entirely true. The kid said something that upset the girl. It wasn’t directed to her and it wasn’t about her. But still, he upset her, and she’s a girl, so he is bad and deserved whatever punishment was doled out to him.

And this got me thinking about my experiences in high school, as a student in the late 90s and a teacher in the mid-aughts. Administrators seemed to always be adopting some or other policy of harsh punishment for bad behavior: zero tolerance toward weapons, drugs, hats, disrespectful posture, electronic devices, swearing, Simpsons t-shirts, and mentally unhygenic reading materials. During dances and social gatherings, my middle school allowed students to bring in CDs from home. That was a decent policy, but anyone who attempted to play a “hip hop” track would receive an immediate suspension for “endorsing violence,” regardless of the track’s lyrical content. My high school adopted a firm anti-bullying policy, but once a boy came to school wearing a gothic dress as some kind of vague transgressive statement, and two separate male teachers called him a fag--out in the open, in front of everybody, as part of the official business of teaching.

Once, in 8th grade, two kids were caught taking over-the-counter caffeine pills. They didn’t get sick or anything; a girl saw them and she narced. They were arrested by the school resource officer, taken in a cop car to the hospital to have their stomachs pumped, and then summarily expelled, their young lives effectively ruined over 50 milligrams of a safe and legal stimulant. At an emergency assembly held the next day, the frog-faced principal croaked out a dire warning that the use of such drugs was strictly forbidden and we would all be subjected to the same fate, should we attempt to sneak in any No Doz. As he issued his stern warning, he slurped gluttonously from a 22-ounce mug of gas station coffee.

The point is, zero tolerance never really means zero tolerance. Rules are always--always, literally always, without exception in the whole of human history--enforced arbitrarily. Harsh policies rarely make anyone safer. They are employed instead to further humiliate and brutalize those who have already been rejected by the system. In my last two paragraphs, I cited the dumbest and most conspicuous examples of arbitrary cruelty that happened to pop into my head. This doesn’t cover the everyday, petty cruelties that teachers and administrators would exact upon kids they simply didn’t like. Without exception, these were the kids who were already marginalized: effeminate boys, masculine but unathletic girls, kids who dressed poorly, kids who spoke with accents, black kids, kids with learning disabilities or behavioral problems. These kids would be given detentions or even suspensions for minor infractions--looking away from the chalkboard, slouching, sneaking in candy, laughing at importune times, etc. It wasn’t the teacher’s fault, of course: zero tolerance and all that. But, strangely, the zero tolerance policies never seemed to apply to the popular, athletic, and/or well-connected kids. If Suzie Creamcheese was caught sneaking some Starburst during Algebra--well, she’s probably hungry, seeing as she works so hard. If Raul, Roofus, or Sheena were caught doing the same? God help them.

Some teachers were nicer than others, of course. Some were downright supportive. Others were simply evil. There was one, when I was in 7th grade, who was particularly repulsive and cruel--no kidding, his admiration of Rush Limbaugh was formative in my early-adopted hatred of American conservatives. He had matted red hair and teeth like a cracked picket fence and would wear a leather jacket out to lunch. Anyhow, he would prattle on about his hatred of kids who “Just. Refuse. To. Learn.” These kids were almost always black. Pure coincidence, I’m sure. He’d make a show of tossing them out of class--sometimes physically--for infractions as minor as getting an answer wrong when called upon. One time, a twitchy white kid who wore the same t-shirt every day called him out: It’s unfair, he said, that I’m getting thrown out of class for getting an answer wrong, when right before me another kid got several chances to respond.

The teacher turned beet red. He got on his knees and put his face two inches in front of the twitchy kid’s eyes. 

“I’m not throwing you out because you got the answer wrong,” he explained. “I’m throwing you out because you are you.”

Again, these are the conspicuous examples. The everyday stuff is harder to describe twenty-five years after it happened.  Most people were not brutalized and they didn’t have a single moment that ruined their life, but they were still exposed to a deeply unfair and cruel system, and such exposure naturally engenders feelings of betrayal, hopelessness, and anger.

Here’s my story--it’s particularly stupid. 9th grade. One day,  I walked into Spanish class, and the large woman who teaches in that classroom before my section grabbed me by the collar, physically lifted me out of my chair, and shoved her moist biscuit of a hand into my face. “What is this,” she demanded.

This was all very sudden. I could see nothing but her hand, which had a distinct fecal aroma.

“I don’t know,” I said.

She removed her hand. I looked down toward desk. She stood silently. I had no fucking idea what she was talking about.

“You’re gonna tell me what you did, right now, or I’m gonna double the detentions.”

I was still silent. Seriously, no idea what was going on. This enraged her. She began to count upward, starting at 3 detentions and stopping at 10, by which point tears were welling up and my face was flushed. I said I seriously did not know. She pointed to a small pentagram someone had engraved into the desktop. The desks, by the way, were movable. Anyone could have done it. She blamed me because she didn’t like me. I served 10 detentions and had to pay over a hundred dollars (a shitload of money for a 13-year-old) to get the desk refinished.

This isn't the end of the world, obviously. But it really, oddly broke me. Before, I had thought that so long as I did was I supposed to and didn’t break any rules, I’d be okay. Now I realized that was bullshit, that any vindictive cunt with a few ounces of power could punish me for any reason, at any time, and I wouldn’t be allowed to mount a defense. That’s the sort of thing that fucks with a kid’s head.  I mean, christ--it’s 23 years later and I’m still kinda pissed about it. I hope that woman is dead.

I regained a sense of control by stealing books from the woman’s classroom. A few times a week, I would grab a textbook when I came in, use it during class, and walk out with it. At the end of the school year, some friends and I burned them in a glorious bonfire along the banks of the Mississippi.

My response was petty and destructive, but I don’t feel any pengs of guilt or shame in remembering it. I had to do something to reassert agency, to feel like I had some control, and I managed to find a way to go about doing it that didn’t hurt anybody or get me into trouble. Regardless of the morality of my particular response, we can agree that kids are now much more surveilled than they were 20-odd years ago, and that minor mischief is now much more harshly criminalized. If a kid finds themself on the outs within their school, there’s really no way they can push back. Their only available avenue of asserting control over their lives is to wander into welcoming communities elsewhere…

One more anecdote then I’m done….

My sister was in high school during 9/11. The attacks were on a Tuesday, and the whole rest of the week was assemblies and talking circles and other such activities meant to assuage fear and gin up the hatred of the dirty brown bastards that done this. Two of my sister’s friends, older boys, were the sort of kids who read Howard Zinn and listened to Jello Biafra’s spoken word records. During one meeting, they expressed exasperation at a girl who was sobbing because she just, like, didn’t know why anyone would do that. The boys certainly didn’t approve of the attacks, but they tried to explain the whole concept of the US being an unhinged and murderous imperial power that had done much worse stuff all over the globe. The audience gasped. The boys were hauled into the principal’s office. They were charged with verbally assaulting the crying girl. One was suspended. The other expelled.

So, I dunno… go ahead. If you think due process is evil, that all victimhood claims are valid and should be taken at face value, and that kids of lesser social status should be demonized and made into criminals for upsetting members of the fair sex, then you do you. That’s fine if that’s what you believe. But please don’t be so naive as to think that the bulk of these newly criminalized behaviors are going to actually be malignant, or that the genuinely malignant behaviors of secure kids will be curbed in any way. Please respect yourself enough to realize that school admins aren’t magic sages with mature moral compasses--a plurality of them were business majors in college, for fuck’s sake. And most importantly, don’t be surprised if the kids you dismiss wind up doing some crazy or awful shit in response.

[chilling-seavey]

Anything But Mine (d.s.) - Chapter Five

A/N :)

Saturday, September 7th, 2019

Florence, of course, called Callum right away to tell him the news. Her call, as usual, was sent to voicemail. For once, it didn't ruin her mood. She talked excitedly into the phone, spilling how she met this gorgeous boy and how he made her feel all these ways she never knew she could feel before. The rest of the day was spent getting her apartment back together, leaving Clementine playing on the living room rug while she worked. Laundry was started, dishes were washed, and a good vacuuming was done to the hardwood floors.

As much as she was loving life that day, her mood depleted quickly with the lack of text from Grayson. Two days had passed and she had still not received a text back. She tried not to overthink it, yet it still took a toll on her. She was in a sensitive state of mind once Matt left and she couldn't help but think she did something wrong.

It was Saturday around noon when Florence went over to the frat house for a spur of the moment visit. Daniel answered the door, barely getting a word out before she threw her arms around his neck.

“Hi.” Daniel laughed.

Florence let herself into the house, pushing the stroller with the sleeping baby in it.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, not being able to hide his smile over her cheery mood.

“The apartment was too quiet and I missed you.” Florence shrugged, letting herself grab a pop from the fridge.

“I missed you too.” Daniel smiled.

“How's school?” Florence leaned against the counter.

“It’s good. My producing professor is tough but I’m sure that’s a good sign.” Daniel shrugged. “What have you been up to?”

“I’m glad you asked.” Florence said dramatically. “I met the most amazing guy.”

Daniel’s smile faltered but she didn’t notice.

“His name is Grayson and he’s our age too and he’s so gorgeous like chiseled from the earth gorgeous and he’s so sweet and funny and-and-“ Florence gushed, hiding her pink cheeks behind her can.

“Where did you meet him?” Daniel asked softly.

“At Mommy group! He’s Cameron’s younger brother. And he’s a twin too! An identical twin but to me they don’t look identical but Ethan is really witty and lovely and I still can’t understand how they’re so...so...” Florence held her hands out in front of her. “So.”

“Sounds nice.” Daniel nodded.

“Are you okay?” Florence raised an eyebrow. “You’re distant.”

“Sorry, I was writing upstairs so my mind is still there I guess.” Daniel cleared his throat.

“Oh, sorry!” Florence said quickly. “Go back to it! I’ll just hang out down here if you don’t mind.”

“Of course.” Daniel said. He started for the stairs but Florence ran over and hugged him before he got too far.

“Love you.” She whispered.

“I love you too.” He smiled.

Florence made herself comfortable at the dining room table, pulling Clementine next to her in her stroller. She opened the small jar of baby food she brought with her and started to feed the baby. Only moments later, Jack came down the stairs with his guitar in his hands.

“Hey.” He smiled, coming over to greet the two.

“Hey, you.” Florence beamed.

“You’re in a good mood.” Jack stated.

“I am! Life is looking up!” Florence threw her arms out. Clementine laughed.

“Do the ladies want some music with their lunch?” Jack sat down next to them, his guitar on his lap.

“I’m sure we won’t mind, would we, Clem?” Florence said. Clementine watched Jack intently as he started playing, lazily opening her mouth to be fed spoonfuls. As long as Florence knew him, Jack always had an amazing singing voice. It was clear her daughter thought the same.

At that moment, her phone rang. Florence picked it up without looking at the screen, tucking it between her shoulder and ear as she wiped the baby's face with the edge of the spoon. Jack quieted his playing.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's Grayson."

Florence's heart leapt like a middle schooler with a crush.

"Oh, hey." She cleared her throat nervously. "What's up?"

"I'm sorry for not texting you the past couple days, work has been a major pain in the ass."

"Yeah, I figured you were busy."

Grayson continued, "What are you doing right now?"

"Nothing really. Why?"

"I'm downstairs. I want to take you out."

Florence almost dropped her phone. No one had ever asked her out before.

"I would love that but I'm not at home right now."

"Oh. You must be busy then."

"Um, one sec." Florence muted her phone, turning to Jack. “How much do you love me?”

“A decent amount, why?” Jack said slowly, still quietly plucking away at his guitar. Living in a house of boys, he knew better than to accept something before knowing what it was.

"Can you watch Clem if I go out? I just got asked on a date by this amazing guy and I'm kind of freaking out!"

"Yes! Of course, I can!" Jack beamed. “I wouldn’t say no to quality time with my favourite little orange.” He leaned over to squish Clementine’s cheek and she giggled.

"Thank you." Florence whispered before putting her phone back to her ear. "Yeah, no, I'm not busy. I'll head home now."

"I can pick you up if you would like?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, text me the address."

"Okay." Florence couldn't wipe her smile off her face as they said their goodbyes. Jack was leaning on the table, smirking at her.

"What?" Florence mumbled, noting him staring as she texted Grayson.

"Who's the lucky guy?" Jack asked.

"Just someone I met the other day." Florence shrugged, sliding her phone in her back pocket as she stood up from the table.

"Good." Jack smiled, "Someone who can treat you how you deserve to be treated. Oops did I say that out loud?”

Florence smiled nervously, moving slowly and nervously, finishing her drink and applying light lipstick in the powder room. Florence's heart was hammering in her chest; she didn't know why she was reacting this way. It never happened this much with Matt. Thinking of him made her whole demeanor change, her shoulders slumping and bright eyes falling. She tried to focus on Jack’s music but her mind was cloudy. The wait for Grayson's text was almost tortuous, the nineteen-year-old's broken heart still beating strongly. When her phone buzzed in her hand, she took a deep breath, adjusting her purse on her arm as she called goodbye to Jack, and started for the front door.

The light blue Porsche was parked on the street out front. Grayson was stood leaning against it, his dark hair pushed back messily, and black sunglasses on his nose. He wore a black button up, the sleeves rolled up and the top two buttons undone, and dark grey cuffed jeans. Florence physically stopped at the sight of him for a quick second. When he saw her, he smiled and walked over to open the door for her.

"Thanks." Florence mumbled through a smile. The two got in the front seat again. Florence blushed at the memory of what happened the last time they were there.

"Did you have a good day yesterday?" Grayson asked her as he pulled away from the curb.

"It was alright. Just got some cleaning done." Florence answered. "How was work?"

"So long. I work at CTV studios and they kept me there for hours yesterday. I didn't get home until late."

"You work at CTV?" Florence gaped. "That's the biggest Canadian television and film company."

"Yeah." Grayson chuckled. "My brother and I were going to move to LA but they noted our social media presence out of high school and offered us an internship and then now a full time job."

"That's incredible." Florence shook her head, as Grayson turned onto the main road. "What do you do there?"

"We're on our first producing gig currently but usually we're filming or helping out with editing."

"Ah, so no talk show starring for you?"

"Not yet." Grayson laughed.

Florence looked out the window, "Where are we going?"

"You'll see." He smiled. "So, we talked about my job. What do you do?"

"I'm raising an eight-month-old." Florence sighed, her gaze flicking over to him. He was still staring straight out the windshield but she noted his eyebrows furrowing momentarily. Florence continued, "I couldn't start university here because a) I was pregnant and b) I had no money to my name. Still don’t, really."

"But you manage to live downtown still?"

"My family has a lot of money so my brother sends me enough for my apartment rent. Our old neighbours really help me with other things I need. I don’t have time to get a job or even take classes because I have to look after Clementine all the time."

"That must be hard."

"It is; but I think it'll be worth it one day."

"I don't doubt it for a second. You're putting your life on hold to raise your daughter. That's really admirable and no where near easy."

His overly kind words startled Florence into silence. She just stared at him. When she didn’t answer, he briefly looked over at her then back to the road.

"Sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

"No, you didn’t, it's just no one has said that to me before. Callum always kind of makes me feel badly for what I do. He has this grudge against Matt – my ex – and I guess he just blames him for screwing over my future."

"Well I don't blame him for having that grudge. And obviously your brother's opinion matters a lot to you, so I get why you feel stuck in the middle. But your priority is your daughter and that's what you are focussing your life around which is the right thing to do."

"Do you take classes on sweet talk?" Florence smirked. Grayson looked over at her and smiled a goofy grin, making his whole face absolutely light up. Florence couldn't help but notice his perfected jaw line and how his light brown eyes seemed to sparkle in the sun.

"Nah but I pride myself on my honesty."

Florence bit back a smile, turning to look out the window. It was a sunny day with bright blue skies and sparkling sunlight hitting the lake water. It was only a few quick minutes later when Grayson turned onto a side street and into a parking lot. A graffitied wooden fence framed the cracked concrete lot.

"Ready?" he asked her.

"Where are we?" Florence frowned with curiosity.

"We're going bowling."

Florence could feel herself pale.

"You look like I just told you I'm a serial killer. Have you not been before?"

"No. I've never been bowling. I don't even know how to play."

"What?!" Grayson gaped. "Well good thing I brought you then. Come on."

Grayson opened his door and climbed out. Florence took a second to take a deep breath before following him. The walk around to the entrance was nerve-wracking to Florence. Although, now living alone, she was used to saving money and going through life like the average city dweller; she was still affected by the way she was raised, and the dimly lit bowling ally made her almost cringe.

Grayson stopped at the front desk, passing over his credit card in exchange for two pairs of shoes.

“I’m putting so much trust in you right now.” Florence shook her head as they got to their designated lane.

“It’s just bowling.” Grayson laughed as he sat down to change his shoes. Florence did the same.

“It was a game for the lower class in my family.” Florence admitted, sliding off her own shoes.

“Oof, ‘the lower class’.” Grayson laughed. “Your parents doctors or something? Lawyers?”

“Actors. Hollywood actors.”

“Really?” Grayson gaped.

“Surprised you haven’t heard about the scandal. DiCaprio daughter flees parents’ luxury to live alone.”

“Sounds like quite the heathen, that one.” Grayson smirked.

“Kinda a bitch, to be honest.” Florence joked.

“Well at least she’s got those stunning good looks going for her.” Grayson got up and stood in front of her, holding out his hand to help her up. Florence stood up with him and he guided her to the beginning of the lane, a ten pound ball in his hand.

“Take this.” He instructed. “Fingers in these holes here.”

He wrapped his arms around her, large hands on her wrists, guiding her arm back.

“Toss it forward, try to go straight down.”

He took a step back and Florence gave the ball a toss. It spun right into the gutter. She put her hands on her hips and turned to him, her lips pursed.

“I think I did it wrong.”

Grayson laughed, “It’s not easy.”

He took a ball for himself and aimed and shot. His back muscles flexed as he moved and Florence couldn’t help but stare. Grayson’s flawless shot knocked down all the pins.

“No one likes a show off.” Florence tisked.

“No one likes a sore loser.” Grayson teased.

It was like that for the rest of the game: Florence’s failed attempts and Grayson’s expertise of the classic game shining through. She was exhausted by the end, Grayson guiding her to his car with a hand on her lower back. He opened the door for her and helped her in. Florence thought about her mother and how proud she would have been if she had seen that simple action.

“How do you feel about steak?” Grayson asked as he closed the door behind him and started the ignition.

“I think it’s delicious but half a mortgage.” Florence said.

Grayson only smiled, turning onto the sunset dyed streets. One arm was resting on the window ledge, the other at the top of the steering wheel. Soft 80s classics were playing through the speaker and when he rolled down the windows to let the summer air in, he also turned up the volume.

Grayson sang loudly, making Florence laugh and join in. Each red light they stopped at earned them glances from pedestrians but they sang on like no one was listening. The warm summer air blew Florence’s blonde hair back in waves, her smile plastered to her face like she was sculpted that way.

The restaurant they pulled up to was coated in dark glass and black panelling in the midst of downtown. Fairy lights were strung along the patio, lighting the exterior in a golden shade. They both got out of the car and made the short walk to the restaurant from the parking lot. Grayson led Florence inside by a hand on her back. Dark laminate flooring and black painted walls stared back from the interior with white accents and red detailing. People sipped red wine in fancy dress and Florence felt out of place in her jeans and t-shirt.

“Do you take all your dates here?” Florence asked Grayson as they started to follow the hostess to their table.

“Nah. Been waiting just for that special one.”

His smooth words never failed to bring a blush to her cheeks. As they sat at their table and they were given their menus, Florence took her phone from her pocket. The only notifications were a picture of Clementine and Jack playing guitar send by Aidan and a text from Daniel.

Jack said you’re on a date. I hope he acts like a gentleman.

Florence smiled, sliding her phone back in her purse without responding. Daniel’s hopes were definitely answered as Grayson was the most polite and respectful man Florence had ever met. The perfect combination of sweet, witty, and flirty, Grayson could leave her smiling for hours. And he did. Dinner lasted longer than usual, their meals filled with childhood stories and facts about themselves. Florence learned that Grayson grew up in a small town and got into so much trouble with Ethan as a child; breaking bones and giving their poor mother grey hair at an early age. Florence told him her story, growing up in a strict family in the upper class area of LA and how punishment was intense. She even explained her confusing relationship with Matt, Grayson listening intently through the all of the details.

They walked back to the car hand in hand, pink dusting Florence’s cheeks both from the simple action and from the glass of champagne she had with dinner. The warm summer air was cooling down under the moonlit sky, the bustling sounds of the city filling the infinite space around them. Finally at the car, Florence reached for the door but Grayson took her outstretched hand in his other, guiding her to face him. He didn’t speak, instead, cupped her face with one of his large hands and pressed his lips to hers. Florence could have melted on the spot. Her back fell gently against the cool metal of the car, contrasting Grayson’s warm body beautifully. She let her hands rest against his chest, the firm muscle under her touch almost making her knees buckle. It was nothing she had ever experienced before and it was electrifying. Grayson wrapped his other hand around to her back, pulling her body close against his. The way his tongue felt over her lips made the nineteen year old, open up for him hungrily. As her nails started to grasp the front of his button up, he pulled back, leaving still minimal space between them.

“Come home with me?” Florence breathed, embarrassing herself by saying that.

“I’ll take you back to your daughter.” Grayson smiled. “I’m not the type to stay over on the first date.”

“Oh, me neither. I just-I didn’t-“

“I was teasing.” Grayson chuckled, dipping down to kiss her again. “But I do stick with that rule.”

~~

Zach was the only one awake when Florence was dropped off at the boys’ house. Being left with a chaste kiss, Florence was in pure bliss as she came twirling into the foyer. Zach was in his pyjamas at the fridge in the darkened kitchen, watching her with amusement over his young features. Florence came to an immediate stop when she spotted him, hands catching herself on the granite island.

“Someone’s happy.” Zach chuckled.

“I had the best night!” Florence sighed, making sure to stay quiet for the other boys who she guessed were asleep since it was almost midnight. “Is Daniel upstairs?”

“Yeah I think he’s still up.” Zach said. “You staying over?”

“Probably. If Clementine’s already down.”

“She is. We sang her a few songs.” Zach admitted.

“What would I do without you guys?”

“Be sad, for one thing.” Zach shrugged, popping a chocolate chip cookie in his mouth.

With quick ‘good night’s, Florence headed to Daniel’s room and Zach started for the loft. Sure enough, Daniel was fast asleep, gentle breaths being the only sound filling the room. Since the last time Florence was there, she noticed the addition of the small bassinet by the far wall and she walked over to find her daughter asleep on her back. Her lips were parted slightly and little snores matched her moving chest. The onesie she wore was white with a print of a Clementine fruit on it; part of the set that the boys got Florence for her baby shower.

Florence left a kiss to her baby’s head before helping herself to Daniel’s drawers. She got herself changed into a light pink sweatshirt and stayed in her underwear, leaving her discarded clothes and bra on the wooden floors. Daniel shifted as she climbed under the covers next to him, a place she always felt so comfortable. As Florence got herself situated, Daniel woke from his light sleep. He shuffled up behind her, wrapping an arm around her middle, pulling her into him.

“You’re back.” he said, his voice thick with sleepiness.

“I am.” Florence smiled, her voice quiet through the dark room. She set her hand over his, the position all too familiar to when she was pregnant and staying at the Clifford’s. Daniel was stay over often to keep her company, being one of the few things that helped her fall asleep during those later months.

“It was good?” Daniel asked tiredly.

“So good.” Florence sighed, pulling his arm tighter around her. She fell asleep before he could say anything else.

[sparklydreamies]

Best Shot ~Ch 4

Group: Stray Kids

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 6700+

Summary: Han Jisung, certified quiet boy, has never really understood the hype about love and romance. That is until he has to step out of his comfort zone and onto the basketball court to impress that one person he can’t stop thinking about.

Main themes: highschool!AU, basketball!AU, internalized homophobia, friends-to-lovers

MASTERLIST

a/n: I guess I’m making his parents worse than I planned, I apologize for that ddnvm,, also Hyunjin’s a big cutie and I will love him forever 

CHAPTER 4 

Surprisingly, there are some people who enjoy high school. Some people wake up every day, content in their own life and surroundings, happy to go to school to their abundance of friends, fully enjoying and taking advantage of their limited youthful years. Some people are able to live their teenage years happily, comfortable with themselves. Unsurprisingly, they were a very rare breed.

High school, for most kids, is not like they see in the movies. It isn’t filled with parties, good friends, romance or happiness, but is instead filled completely with overwhelming school work and the burden of self discovery. The feeling of comfort in one’s own skin long gone as people work to construct how they wish to be seen in the eyes of their friends. The big secret that they don’t tell you in movies is that nobody loves themselves completely. You may be happy with your personality or physical appearance, but everybody has just that one thing about themselves that they can’t help but want to conceal in a box, never to be seen by other people. 

For example, Jisung didn’t want to like boys. There was no reason that he couldn’t have been interested in girls, with their soft curves, full lips, and pretty faces. He should have been like his friend Felix, who would willingly leave Jisung stranded in some desolate, dusty desert somewhere if it meant that he could have a shot with a college girl. 

Felix was the straightest boy Jisung knew. There was no way in hell that Jisung would ever feel very comfortable telling Felix his secret; he’s too worried that Felix would think he’s abnormal or strange. Although the more Jisung thinks about it, he wasn’t one hundred percent sure Felix would be wrong. 

Jisung was used to the guilty feeling that bloomed deep in his chest when he thought about telling his family. His homophobic, conservative family. Lord knows Jisung has sat through way too many nights of hearing his father shouting slurs and making offensive comments at the television, or at his friends, who often would laugh and retort with an insult of their own. 

Thinking about how his mother would react did nothing to help cool the fire that was burning his lungs. What would she blame it on? Where would she ship him off to in the hopes of changing his views and correcting his disorder? Jisung’s mind raced as he thought of what he would have to endure, all for the sake of his mother’s reputation. Heaven forbid she ever raised a son who liked boys. 

Jisung was plagued with these thoughts, eating away at his consciousness until he felt like he was suffocating in the reality and weight of his problem. He had no outlet for his frustration. He was all alone. All alone and deformed. A blasphemy. How could he like boys of all things?

Jisung tried not to think about his problem during the days leading up to his first basketball game, which was much easier said than done. Jisung was quickly beginning to understand how Felix would feel when he was with Dahyun, or any other girl for that matter. When Jisung saw Minho walking down the halls of their school, talking and laughing with his friends, smiling and waving at Jisung, it was like he completely lost the ability to breathe. No matter how much Jisung tried to suppress it, Minho had a tight grip on his heart. 

Mina was a big help to Jisung. After their little talk on the bleachers by the track, Jisung often felt himself relying on her kindness and support. The thought of bothering her with his stupid drama and inner turmoil made him feel guilty, but he sincerely felt like there was no way he could keep this to himself. He was just too confused and upset. 

Friday came sooner than Jisung would have liked. Friday’s were the official game days for the varsity boys basketball team. 

Of course, Jisung wouldn’t actually be playing. No, Jisung still didn’t have the level of skill that it would take to be an actual player, but he was happy to be just sitting on the bench. The idea of playing was leaving a sour feeling with Jisung, and it was not very helpful to him while he tried to focus on his studies. 

Contrary to the sick feeling Jisung had, Felix and Seungmin were buzzing with excitement all day. Jisung thought it was strange how they both seemed way happier about this than he did, but judging by how much they cared about social hierarchies, it was expected. 

“Maybe you can talk to Minho and see if he’ll let you play, even for just a quarter,” Felix suggested when the boys sat down for lunch that eventful Friday. Jisung scoffed at him. The last thing he wanted was to actually play. It was astonishing how Felix still didn’t grasp that concept. 

“Felix you idiot, Jisung can’t even hold the ball properly, no way Minho will let him play,” Seungmin answered, making Felix giggle. Jisung shot him an exasperated look. 

“Not true,” Jisung denied, “Hyunjin says I’m better than I think I am. It’s not that I can’t play, it’s that I don’t want to play,”

“Because you don’t want to embarrass yourself?” Felix teased, but there was honestly nothing Jisung could counter about that question. He knew that he had basic skills, but nothing outstanding. Once he begins private practices with Hyunjin, maybe he’ll begin to improve. After all, Hyunjin obviously knows what he is doing when it comes to basketball. 

“Hey, since when are you such good friends with Hyunjin?” Seungmin asked, “Didn’t you hate him like a week ago?” 

“No, not hate him,” Jisung said in a small voice. There was a small beat of awkward silence before Seungmin changed the subject. Jisung was grateful for that. 

“Whatever. Felix did you end up figuring out the history homework, or are you going to freeload off my answers again?” Seungmin asked, and the conversation went off from there. 

Jisung was barely participating in the conversation, and he ended up completely tuning Felix out while the boy talked about why he didn’t do the assignment. Instead, Jisung’s eye was drawn to a vibrant colour he saw from across the cafeteria. Of course, it was the bright red, tell tale sign of the varsity basketball team. Jisung wanted to avert his gaze, but his eyes decided to focus themselves on the soft features of the boy who was unknowingly ruining his life. 

Jisung watched as Minho laughed at something Youngjae said, and they took a seat on the opposite corner of the room. Jisung was still zoned out, wondering what they were talking about when two fingers snapped in front of his face, drawing his attention away from the boys. 

“Ji?” Felix asked, chuckling at him, “are you good?” 

Jisung shook himself out of his thoughts and nodded a yes. He turned to look at Seungmin, who was giving him a questioning gaze. There was a small period of silence once again, before Jisung asked “what?” 

“We were asking if you’re exited about tonight, stupid,” Seungmin repeated. 

“I mean, I guess so,” Jisung coughed awkwardly, “like I said, I’m not really going to play,” 

“Well play or not, we’re still going to support you,” Seungmin said. Jisung blushed a bit out of embarrassment. 

Felix smiled, “oh yeah Ji, we might make posters too,” 

“I know you guys are joking, but please do not do that,” Jisung warned, feeling too embarrassed to even imagine the horrible sight that would be. Felix and Seungmin, sitting in the middle of a sea of high schoolers, holding homemade signs, whooping whenever Jisung took a drink of water. Absolutely the last thing Jisung needed.

“Felix, I don’t know if I have any glitter glue left at my house though, we might have to pick some more up,” Seungmin said, and all three boys started laughing. 

----

“Attention teachers. At this time, please dismiss all members of the varsity boys basketball team, as today is game day. Good luck boys, we wish you luck!”

Jisung felt his stomach tighten slightly at the announcement. He saw across the room that Hyunjin, whom he shared last period with, was packing up his books and getting ready to leave. He gave Jisung a reassuring smile. Jisung nervously began to pack up his belongings, shoving them into his backpack. 

Jisung wasn’t nervous about playing the game, as he knew he was just there as a spare in the unlikely case that two of the team members got injured and they needed their last resort extra. He wasn’t nervous about the possibility of losing the game, because it wasn’t that important to him. So what was the reason for his unwelcome feeling of anxiety? Why was he so nervous? It’s not like he’s alone, he has Hyunjin, Minho, and everyone else on the team who has grown to be friendly acquaintances with Jisung over the past week. 

He had no more time to try and untangle his thoughts, as he was being led out the classroom door by Hyunjin, who was calling a last goodbye to their teacher. 

“Are you nervous?” Hyunjin asked. Of course Jisung was nervous. It’s in his nature to be nervous about everything. Jisung felt his heartbeat in his throat.

“No, not at all,” Jisung answered, sounding surprisingly calm despite the feelings he was experiencing. 

“Liar,” Hyunjin mumbled, shoving Jisung’s shoulder as they walked. Jisung smiled. It was nice to have Hyunjin around; he always seemed to understand Jisung’s emotions, yet never judged him. It was just like their old times, when Jisung would be upset about the insignificant drama of their sixth grade class, and Hyunjin would always be there to cheer him up. 

“Shut up,” Jisung whispered as they reached the gym hallway. He took a breath before shoving the heavy door of the change room open with his shoulder. 

Once Jisung opened the door, he was met with loud music echoing off the walls, and the faint smell of sweat. He wrinkled his nose at the stench, wondering what the room would smell like after the boys played an hour of basketball. 

Hyunjin led Jisung to the back corner of the room, where they usually sit. All around them, boys were getting undressed and changed into their horribly designed uniforms. Jisung once again felt awkward and slightly self conscious changing in front of these boys. He feels awkward enough exposing his own skin to these boys, but pair that with the fact that he just realized he likes men. His doubts were eased slightly when he saw Hyunjin slip off his uniform shirt beside him. 

Jisung began to get undressed when the door swung open again. The sound of the heavy door swinging open rang throughout the already noisy room. Jeongin paused the music blaring from his speaker once the team captain walked in. Jisung was suddenly brought back to the back that not only was he shirtless and exposed in front of the other boys, but he was half naked in front of Lee Minho. 

He felt embarrassment slowly creep up on him and make his ears burn. Minho didn’t spare him a glance, yet Jisung still felt ashamed. He quickly slid on his basketball shirt, thankful that it covered his chest. 

When the boys were all ready and the last bell rang for the school day, Minho made his way to the middle of the room, clearing his throat and grabbing everyone’s attention. Jisung saw how Minho rolled up the sleeves on his jersey shirt, and he thought it made Minho look even cooler in it than he previously thought. 

“Alright boys,” Minho started, and the remaining murmurs echoing in the room ceased. “We’re off to a good start this season, but we need to keep it up.” Jisung saw some of the boys nod, and some of them clapped lightly. “Our biggest difficulty this season is our defense, which I went over lightly last practice. It’s not enough to score points, we also have to keep the other team from scoring points,” he continued. Minho suddenly pointed towards Jisung, and he felt like his heart stopped. 

“On another note, today is Jisung’s very first game!” Minho announced, and the rest of the team began to whoop at that, making Jisung’s blushing face fall into his hands. This was too much attention for him. Hyunjin smiled dumbly and shoved Jisung’s shoulder. “Let’s show him how winning feels, yeah?” Minho suggested, his voice getting louder. There was a booming chorus of agreements from the team. “Yeah?” Minho repeated, his voice very loud now. “Let’s go!” He called, opening the heavy doors and holding it for the team to pass through. 

Unlike during practices which were private for the most part, the school gymnasium was packed full with students and a few parents occupying the bleachers on the side of the court. 

The energy in the space was electric, and Jisung found himself wondering how he had never been to a basketball game before. Maybe it was due to the fact that he never saw the interest in watching sweaty boys wrestle a ball away from each other. 

A loud holler from the bleachers drew Jisung’s attention to his two best friends, cheering him on. Jisung smiled at them, but spared no more than that as he jogged over to the bench where he would be staying for the entirety of the game. 

All around him, his teammates were warming up, executing drills Jisung remembered from practice, and stretching. Jisung himself tried to get his heart rate up, but for no particular reason other than to not look like he didn’t know what the fuck he was doing. 

Basketball is an interesting sport, Jisung concluded by the halftime mark. It wasn’t as slow as golf or even baseball, but it wasn’t as fast as hockey. There was a noticeable grace to the players as they made their formations, utilizing plays and techniques learned from hours of practice. The way that they relied on their teammates was quite cool to Jisung. It was like they were a machine, each component with their own mission, all working together for the greater good. 

By the time halftime rolled around, Jisung’s team was losing, significantly. The tension was obviously high; Jisung could see that from the exasperated faces of his teammates, and the obvious overconfidence from the other team. 

Hyunjin didn’t even bother to pat Jisung on the shoulder, or ruffle his hair on his way to his water bottle. He looked focused, concentrating on the present game. Minho looked even worse. 

Sweat was dripping all down the side of his face and his neck, shining under the harsh lights of the gym. His hair was completely stuck to his forehead, and his eyes were serious. Jisung felt a little bit intimidated from the strange change in the other’s behavior. Jisung had never experienced Minho to be this determined and fierce. His features were sharper, and there was a fire in his expression. The sight took Jisung’s breath away. 

“Guys, what are we doing out there?” Minho ran his hand through his hair in an attempt to get it off his forehead, “We’re playing like amateurs. We are sloppy, not coordinated, and we’re playing way too rushed. We’re throwing the ball away, and it’s going right to the other team. That isn’t the way to win, right?” he asked, and there were a few agreements from the team. Jisung internally chuckled, because before, he thought the team was very much in sync. “I want to win this game just as much as you guys do. So let’s slow ourselves down, okay? Play smarter, not harder,” he concluded. 

He then led the team into a loud cheer, hyping up the home crowd. The boys made their way back onto the court, wiping their sweaty foreheads on their jerseys. Jisung didn’t miss the way that some girls swooned over them, catching some of the boys’ attention. 

After the third quarter commenced, Jisung was a bit astounded. It was almost as if Minho had flipped a switch with his words. Progress came slowly, but sure enough, they began to climb the scoreboard. Jisung felt himself grow more and more invested in the game as he watched the boys fly across the court, ball after ball into the other team’s hoop. 

Jisung watched, his heart in his throat, as Hyunjin expertly sank a three-pointer. He jumped in his seat, which caught the eye of Hyunjin himself, who was smiling ear-to-ear like an idiot. 

When the team pilled back into the change room after the game, the adrenaline was enough to choke on. Jisung was ecstatic, bumping into and high fiving his teammates after his first ever win. 

Jisung understood why people care about sports. At least, he was starting to. There was a sense of family in that change room after that game, and Jisung bathed in it. Even if he wasn’t that close with the members yet, he felt more than accepted as he was pulled into a hug from Choi Youngjae. 

“Settle down!” yelled a voice coming from the door, and Jisung turned around to see Minho standing there, proudly smiling, obviously basking in the post-victory high. 

One by one, the boys moved to their spots, and let Minho give them a final talk about how they played, and where they would rank in the standings after beating this team. Jisung didn’t catch too much, he was preoccupied by Hyunjin bumping into his side, still smiling so hard he might split his face open. 

Once they were changed, Hyunjin led Jisung out of the change room, and into the school’s main hallway. They passed a slew of people that were waiting for their player friends to change quickly so they could leave. He passed by a few dejected faces of boys from the other school. 

Jisung did not expect Hyunjin leaning towards the other players and sincerely congratulating them on their game. There wasn’t a hint of passive-aggressiveness in his voice at all, but rather there was real sincerity. 

“Why are you doing that?” Jisung whispered to him. 

“What, talking to the other guys?” Jisung nodded, still giving him questioning eyes, “Well, they played a really good game, and I know I would appreciate it if I got complimented from the other players,” Hyunjin explained, leaning away from Jisung to congratulate another young looking boy. 

Jisung shook his head. Of course Hyunjin was just about the sweetest person alive. It was no different from when they were kids. Everybody loved Hyunjin because he was nice, and didn’t make fun of people. That’s probably also the reason Jisung’s mother was so infatuated with Hyunjin. Who doesn’t want their son to be friends with such a polite and well mannered boy? 

“Hyunjin, you were great,” Jisung said, once they passed a small crowd of what looked like freshmen, “honestly, I think you won that for us,” 

Hyunjin gave a small laugh. A blush slightly painted his cheeks, which he failed to hide from Jisung. “Are you trying to steal my thing from me?” he countered, giving an offended glare. 

Jisung slapped him lightly in the arm. “No, I just think you did really well!” 

Hyunjin smiled fondly, focusing his gaze on the ground in front of them. “It was Minho all the way,” he said, “but thanks,”

Jisung was about to argue with him when something caught his eye. A slight glimmer of fluorescent lights hitting jet black hair. He turned slightly to examine, and almost choked on his breath when he saw the familiar pale skin and small stature. 

He remembered the pretty girl quite vividly; he remembered feeling her pressed against him in a dark hallway, stealing rushed kisses from him. He also remembered the awkward moment when he pushed her away, and shuddered. Jisung tried to keep his head down and walk, lest he make eye contact and relive the painful memory, but of course, life is a bitch. 

“Jisung!” someone called from that direction, however it wasn’t the soft spoken voice of the pretty little girl from the party. Instead, it was the deep and recognizable voice of Lee Felix. 

Hyunjin was the first to turn, smiling wide at the smaller boy, pushing Jisung towards that general direction. Jisung saw Felix had his arm around the waist of a gorgeous blonde girl. Of course, Jisung recognized her as Kim Dahyun. 

“Good game! Does your ass have splinters from sitting on the bench?” Seungmin called, Felix laughing with him. Typical of Seungmin. Jisung landed a fairly hard punch right on the bone in his arm, sure to leave a bruise. 

Jisung’s eyes raised to meet Nayeon’s. The girl tucked her soft hair behind her ear. 

“So I’ve been told that you two know each other,” Dahyun teased, poking her friend in the side. Nayeon blushed slightly, mumbling a small warning to drop it. 

Jisung saw the gross look in Felix’s eyes. It was the type of look that says “my friend is definitely going to get some”. Jisung wrinkled his nose and drew his attention away from his perverted friend. 

“It’s fine,” Jisung awkwardly mumbled. “Have you met Hwang Hyunjin?” he asked, changing the subject away from the girl who looked quite nervous. 

As Dahyun and Hyunjin made each other’s acquaintance, Jisung couldn’t help but feel sorry for the poor girl. He didn’t want Nayeon to think that she forced herself on him, or that he had any harsh feelings towards her in any way. She still avoided his gaze. 

Jisung figured that was expected. If the tables were turned and Nayeon pushed Jisung away, he would feel absolutely ashamed of himself. 

“Anyways, I think it’s time we should go, I’m driving Jisung home,” Hyunjin said, causing Jisung to snap back into reality at the mention of his name. 

“Uh yeah, we should get going,” he agreed, “it was nice seeing you guys again,” he waved at Dahyun and Nayeon. 

The two boys stiffly made their way to the school’s main entrance, where Hyunjin’s car was parked. Hyunjin made some stupid joke about riding shotgun or something, which Jisung found hard to pretend to laugh at. 

“So,” Hyunjin started once they got into the car. Hyunjin fired up the engine, making his way slowly to the road, among all the post-game traffic. “Who was the cutie?” he asked. 

Jisung groaned at the intrusive question. Why can’t Hyunjin just not bother to care? The answer was because being nosy is a part of Hyunjin’s personality. “She’s nobody,” he answered, brushing off the question.

“That doesn’t sound convincing,” Hyunjin mumbled, pulling out of the parking lot. 

“She’s just a girl,” 

Hyunjin laughed at his friend. “Felix was looking like he was expecting you two to take your clothes off right there,” 

“Jesus, dude!” Jisung cried out, trying to hit his head against the window to the sound of Hyunjin’s giggles. “She’s just a girl that I fooled around with once, okay? Not a big deal.” he reluctantly answered. Hwang Hyunjin was a pain in the ass. 

Of course, Hyunjin began his chorus of oohs, causing Jisung to cover his face. “I think...” Hyunjin trailed off. Jisung uncovered his face to see what caused Hyunjin to stop talking. “I think you like her,” Hyunjin teased. 

Jisung almost burst out laughing. The irony of that conclusion was astounding. It was crazy how someone could be so wrong about a topic. Just imagine the shock Hyunjin would feel if he found out about Jisung’s little crush on Minho. 

“What?” Hyunjin asked. Jisung just shook his head. 

"I don’t like Nayeon,” Jisung pressed, still trying to gain control of his laughter, “please drop it,” he said. 

Hyunjin mumbled a “fine” under his breath. 

After a second of silence, Hyunjin spoke again. “Is there anybody that you do have a thing for?” he asked. 

Jisung paused his breathing. The way that Hyunjin asked that made Jisung’s mind immediately conclude that Hyunjin knew about Minho. 

How did he know? Jisung wasn’t that obvious. He didn’t tell anybody except for Mina. Did Mina tell Hyunjin? No, Mina isn’t close with Hyunjin. Did Mina tell other people, which got passed around from person to person until it hit Hyunjin? Did the whole school know?

No. They didn’t. Jisung willed himself to calm down, as he didn’t know whether or not this was even the topic Hyunjin was regarding. 

“No, not really,” Jisung said weakly, hoping that Hyunjin couldn’t see past his bullshit. 

“You never seem to be interested in anybody,” Hyunjin chuckled. Jisung felt himself loosen up as the atmosphere grew light again. “That’s a real shame, you’d make a great boyfriend,” he joked. 

Fuck Jisung’s mind for overthinking. 

----

“There you are,” Chaeryeong called from the kitchen. The smell of something cooking greeted Jisung as he walked through the front door. Chaeryeong was stirring a pot of something on the stove, making dinner like she usually is expected to. “How was the game?” she asked. 

“Fine, we won,” he answered. Chaeryeong moved around the kitchen some more, handling this and that. Jisung always admired his sister’s cooking skills; he had never been much of a chef himself. 

Jisung’s mother wasn’t around too much to cook for her children, and when she was, she was often too tired or unmotivated. As the oldest girl, the duty was passed onto Chaeryeong from a young age. Jisung never found it that fair, but Chaeryeong never complained. When Jisung would offer to share the work with her, she would just smile and say she would rather make something edible than eat whatever Jisung would make. Chaeryeong might be annoying at times, but she was a responsible and tolerant girl. 

Chaeryeong smiled and gave him a quick congratulations for his victory before the sound of a yell rang through their home. Chaeryeong froze in her spot.

Jisung’s face dropped. “Why is he here, I thought he wasn’t coming until tomorrow?” he whispered to Chaeryeong. She gave him a sort of exasperated shrug as she tried to continue her work. 

“His meetings for tomorrow got cancelled, so he decided to come back early,” Chaeryeong said, “believe me, I was just as surprised as you,”

The man that was currently occupying their living room was Jisung’s father. No doubt he was trying to yell at the soccer referees through the television. 

Jisung and Chaeryeong’s father was just about the least likable man they know of. 

Jisung’s parents had tarnished Jisung’s perception of healthy relationships from a very young age. Sure, every marriage has their ups and downs, but it wasn’t until Jisung was eleven or twelve years old that he realized not everybody’s parents dissolve into screaming matches during every conversation.

If Jisung was being honest, a lot of the worst moments from his childhood had resulted due to his father’s loud arrogance and his mother’s stubborn judgement. The only reason they haven’t gotten divorced yet is because Jisung’s mother is so occupied with thinking about what her friends would think about her. Her incapability of pleasing her husband like a good wife should. It was better for her to silently accept the hellish life she had created for herself, while simultaneously ruining her children’s childhoods all for the “greater good”.

If his parents were to get a divorce, there is no doubt in Jisung’s mind that he would rather live with his mother. Even though she could be harsh and mean, she could also be a decent mother. Jisung’s father was never much of a father. It was easy to have conversations with his mother when she was in the right mood. Sometimes however, when Jisung thinks about his mother, the bad memories are always what surface first. The memories of her calling him useless, saying he ruined her promising life, saying that he was a disappointment. 

That sort of thing can really hurt a kid. 

Jisung’s house sometimes felt like a war zone. It was almost impossible to dodge the bullets that his parents were always firing around, attempting to blame others for their own unhappiness. If he managed to avoid being shot with harsh words from his parents, surely he would make a comment, or do something that would set off a landmine of arguments and yelling throughout his house. 

Jisung had learned through many years of struggling to avoid the sharp words of his parents that when the two of them were both home together, it was the best move to be out of the house. 

“Chae,” he whispered, trying to quietly make his way into where his sister was still cooking, “let’s go out somewhere,” 

Chaeryeong nodded quickly at him, “but I have to finish their dinner, or we’ll be in deep shit,” she said, moving to take the sauce off of the stove. Jisung gave her a little pat on the shoulder as he moved to silently make his way upstairs to his room, without alerting his parents that he was home. 

Chaeryeong had it harder than Jisung, he knew. His parents rarely expected him to do anything, but they essentially forced Chaeryeong to do their cooking and cleaning. She is still young; she doesn’t deserve to be treated like a maid because her parents don’t like making their own meals. 

It was useless trying to understand the logic Jisung’s parents had when it came to raising kids. 

Jisung changed out of his school uniform and into his casual clothes before making his way back downstairs to see if Chaeryeong was ready to leave yet. He quietly made his way down the stairs, moving so expertly down the wood where he knew it wouldn’t creak. Unfortunately, it was all in vain when he heard his mother’s voice in the kitchen. 

“Call me when it’s time- oh, Jisung you’re home,” she said when Jisung walked into the kitchen, “how was your day?” 

“It was good mom,” Jisung said, but he could tell she wasn’t paying that much attention. 

“Did you say hi to your father yet?” she said, and before Jisung could object, she was calling his name, beckoning him over to greet his son. Jisung saw Chaeryeong shrug at him. Jisung dangled his car keys to signal that he still wanted to get the hell out of there, which she silently agreed with. 

Jisung didn’t have any urge to talk to his father. To his dismay, he heard the sound of approaching footsteps coming from the living room, followed by mumbles of “the game is on,” and such. 

Jisung’s dad wasn’t a bad looking man. Sometimes Jisung thinks if he had a better personality, he might even be a decent catch. His father was tall, with very dark hair and a fairly slim build. He was decent looking enough for many people to envy his mother, however those people never saw the real person that he was. The person who shamelessly bashes his family, while at the same time expects to be treated like a king. 

Jisung doesn’t care about how his father insults him, his academics, his looks or his friends, but it kills Jisung to see how he hurts Chaeryeong. Chaeryeong is a bright and happy girl, but Jisung can see the way that his father tears down her confidence. 

He breaks her down so easily with his judgments. Jisung’s skin crawls every time he thinks about his father casually bringing up her looks and her weight, saying she should eat less if she wants a husband. Jisung never fails to notice how her face drops, and her entire aura becomes sad and insecure. Jisung hates to see her like that. 

“How have you been, Jisung?” Jisung’s father asked when he entered the room, “I almost didn’t recognize you, you’ve changed,”

“I hope that’s a good thing,” Jisung mumbled, and grabbed his father’s extended hand. 

“I still think you could build some muscle, it wouldn’t hurt you,” Jisung nodded at his father. It was honestly best not to interact too much with him. “You should consider playing a sport or something, lord knows you have so much free time,” 

“Well Jisung is playing on the school basketball team now,” Chaeryeong piped up from where she was cutting bread. So much for not interacting much with him. 

Jisung’s eyes widened as this sunk in. Jisung never told his mother that he was going to join the team. She barely likes him working his job while trying to study, Jisung knew that him playing basketball would make her livid. 

“What did she say?” his mother asked. Only then did Chaeryeong seem to process the fact that Jisung’s mother didn’t know. “The team that Hyunjin is on? Why didn’t I know about this?”

“I was going to tell you, but-” Jisung was cut off.

“My son is a basketball player?” Jisung’s dad asked, suddenly very interested in this conversation. 

Jisung’s mother didn’t have the angry or upset look in her eyes that Jisung was expecting, but rather she looked almost offended. Offended and disappointed that Jisung ignored her opinions and thoughts about focusing on things other than studies. 

“Jisung likes being on the team, right Ji?” Chaeryeong asked him, trying to make up for her previous mistake.

“I really do,” Jisung said, shifting his eyes between his mother’s exasperated ones, and his father’s curious ones. 

Jisung’s father patted him on the shoulder, “you’ve never been the athletic type. Maybe this will change that,” he said, snaking his arm around Jisung’s tense shoulders, which Jisung ultimately shrugged off. 

“I wish you would have told me,” Jisung’s mother said quietly, “I’m not worried about your school. You’re doing fine in your classes, but I don’t want you to take your foot off of the gas.” she said. 

“I know that, it’s just that this means a lot to me, and I’m having a lot of fun with the team,” he explained. 

Jisung’s mother gave a sort of small whine. Her expression was unreadable to Jisung. She ran her fingers through her dark hair, usually a sign that she was upset about something. 

“You’re having too much fun with the team,” she said, barely louder than a whisper. “I’m too tired for this, I worked hard all day,” she said, and with that, she turned on her heels and headed towards the stairs, up to her bedroom. 

Jisung gave Chaeryeong a panicked look, but she just signaled to him that he should let her go and have her space. Jisung felt guilt pile up in his chest, however he could not bring himself to figure out what to do about it. He didn’t know how he could make his mother less disappointed. 

Jisung’s father, unlike Jisung and his sister, obviously was not phased by the exit of his wife.

“So what, have you had any games yet?” he asked, but Jisung gave him a cold shoulder. Silently, Jisung turned away from his father, and called Chaeryeong over. 

“Oh.. Dad, Jisung and I have something to do, we’ll be back later..” Chaeryeong called, “dinner is ready, help yourself, and please try and see if mom will eat,” 

----

Most people prefer to have a destination in their minds while driving with their baby sisters, but it didn’t matter to Jisung. He was just happy that him and Chaeryeong were able to breathe outside that house. 

And so, their evening consisted mainly of them driving around, talking about pointless things until they found a place where they could get quick food. 

“What...” Jisung asked, once him and Chaeryeong settled into a parking lot outside of the local variety store, “what did mom mean by I’m having too much fun?” Jisung asked, fiddling with the little straw in his drink. 

“Don’t act like she didn’t have to feel the embarrassment of her only son being dragged home at three in the morning by some good looking neighbor boy,” she answered, “I’m all for that lifestyle. I’d let Hyunjin drag me anywhere. But mom is different,”

Jisung refrained from gagging at the gross comment about Hyunjin, and instead focused on what Chaeryeong was saying about their mother. She didn’t want her children going out and drinking like delinquents. She valued studies and ambition. 

“Mom is just afraid of what people would think of her as a mother if you became like Hyunjin, Chan, or any other of those guys.” 

Chaeryeong was making sense. Before Jisung could agree with her, he felt a rhythmic vibration in his pocket. His heart almost exploded out of his chest at the caller ID. 

Why the hell was Lee Minho calling Jisung at quarter after nine? 

“Uh, hold- hold on,” Jisung stumbled over his words, unbuckling his seat belt and snaking his way out of his car to gain some privacy. Jisung took a small breath before clicking the green answer button. 

“Hi Minho, what’s going on?” Jisung asked, wincing at the way his voice sounds broken. 

“Jisung, Jisung,” Minho answered, words slurred slightly, “everybody shut up!”

Jisung had to hold the phone slightly away from his ear as Minho yelled at whoever was probably in the room with him. 

“Is everything okay?” Jisung asked, and Minho chuckled. 

“Everything is fucking amazing! We’re at Chan’s house with booze, will you come? Please?” Minho whined. Jisung couldn’t help but notice how cute Minho’s voice sounded when he whined like that. The boy was already adorable, but Jisung felt his heart clench when he heard the soft words. 

Still though, he had Chaeryeong with him. Not only that, but he should be going home soon before his mother beats him. Jisung thought about what his mother had said about him having too much fun with his team. He felt his heart clench again, except this was not the sweet torture of the cute brunette on the other line of the phone, but rather the guilt of what he was doing to his mother. 

“I can’t Minho, I’m so sorry,” he said, and he heard the other boy whine again. Jisung figured that Minho must be pretty drunk, because he seemed way different than this at the original party at Bang Chan’s. The original party where the roles were reversed, and Jisung was the very drunk one. 

“Why not?” Minho asked.

“Because I’m busy right now, okay? Are you okay there?” Jisung asked, and Minho laughed again, except this time it was more like a giggle than a chuckle. 

“Mhm,” he said, “oh and also before I forget,” Minho started, “it’s team tradition...” the boy trailed off. 

Jisung waited a beat before asking “tradition to what?” 

“Don’t you know? All new players have to throw a party,” Minho said, “it’s welcoming tradition,”

Jisung felt his stomach drop. There was no way that he would be able to throw a party and still have the respect of his mother. 

“I’ll have to talk to you about it when you’re sober, okay?” Jisung said, noticing that Chaeryeong was banging on the glass window, signaling that it was close to nine thirty, which is the time that their mother wants them home most nights. 

“Jisung don’t go,” Minho begged, “will you sing for me?”

Jisung waited a second before realizing that Minho was being serious. “...no” he said, “Minho, I have to go,” Jisung said, and he knew that he wasn’t going to get a proper response back when he heard the other boy begin singing loudly. 

Jisung hung up the phone and got back into the car. 

“Who was that?” Chaeryeong asked, buckling her seat belt up.

Jisung did the same as he answered “it was Minho,” 

“Minho? Like Lee Minho?” she asked. 

“The one and only,” Jisung started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, beginning their drive back to their house. 

“What did he want?” 

“He wanted me to throw a party.. apparently it’s some sort of team tradition, I don’t know,” Jisung answered, realizing how dumb the request was. No way he was going to throw a party for a bunch of dumb jock basketball players that would inevitably end up in a wreaked house and a panic attack. 

What Jisung wasn’t expecting was his baby sister to ask him “you’re going to do it though, right?” 

[angry-slytherin]

Heaven Help Me(Ch 10)

Jo rings the doorbell to Meredith Grey’s house, holding a cheesecake firmly in her hands to stop them from shaking.

The door swings open, and it’s Maggie.

“Oh hey, Doctor Wilson! Come in, come in. I didn’t know you’d be here. I thought this was supposed to be a family dinner...oh sorry, I just- you know never mind, just come in,” Maggie smiles.

Jo smiles back, albeit awkwardly, and Maggie finally moves so Jo can enter the house. Maggie swiftly takes the cake Jo is holding, and shuffles off the to the kitchen.

Jo stands awkwardly for a moment in the foyer; unsure of who to talk to and where to go. Then, by a force of grace, Link passes by her, and does a double take.

“Jo? What are you doing here?” He arches an eyebrow. Jo shifts uncomfortably.

“Oh uh Meredith was reminding Alex about this fun little get together, and I was there, so...I’m here. You know, being social. I don’t get to go to many family dinners you know. Actually I don’t think I’ve ever been to one.”

Link smiles, “Just go in there; no one bites. Amelia is in there, surrounded by lots of children you can ‘socialize’ with. And your friend Karev is there too,” he winks.

Jo watches as Link goes up the stairs. She finally turns into the living room, bracing herself to be bombarded by feelings of displacement. But she sees Amelia and Alex right away, and she realizes she has friends here.

God, she thinks, I have to stop sounding like a high schooler at the homecoming dance.

Jo walks over to Alex, who is currently holding a small blonde girl in his arms. Jo can’t help but think about how good he looks doing it; it’s only natural. He’s a good-looking guy with a child.

She greets his circle; him, Cormac Hayes, and a tall teenage boy who appears to be the former’s son.

“Doctor Wilson, nice to see you,” the Irishman says through a thick accent. Jo smiles.

“Oh it’s Josephine. Jo.”

“You should probably just call him Mer’s irish dude like the rest of us,” Alex cracks. Hayes and his son laugh heartily at this, and Jo squints at him amusedly.

“Cormac,” Hayes reaches out his hand and Jo shakes it, “and this is my son, Liam.”

The curly-haired boy reaches out his hand.

“Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

Jo smiles, “You too, Liam.” Then the girl in Alex’s arms stirs and asks to be let down. Alex shrugs, bringing her over to the kitchen table.

“Excuse me,” Jo asks the other doctor and his son, following Alex to the kids’ table.

“Are you following me?” He asks her.

“Yes, I am.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re the only other person here without a family connection to someone else here. We’re the outcasts.”

Alex shrugs, “Me, Mer and Izzie went through residency together. We’ve been family for a long time. Now Izzie’s gone, and George and Cristina are gone, but I’ve still got Mer.”

Jo looks down, “Oh so I’m the only one without family connections. Yay.” This earns her a glare, and then an eye roll from Alex.

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself. It’s not like you; it’s weird and creepy.” Jo makes a face.

“Thanks,” she deadpans. Alex just grins, hooking his arm around her shoulder.

“I’ll be your family connection.” Jo smiles, and feels herself way too willing to lean into his shoulder. Because she realizes for the first time, she loves him. She’s not quite sure in what way, but she loves Alex Karev.

How’s that for a family connection?

***

At dinner, two folding tables have been set up in the living room, and Jo sits in between Maggie and Link.

“Can you please pass the salad?” Maggie asks her, and Jo grabs the bowl, handing it to her.

The table is silent for a moment.

“This all tastes great, sweetheart,” Link grabs Amelia’s hand over the table and squeezes it.

“It’s wonderful,” Hayes smiles.

“Thank you,” Amelia smiles, picking up her fork. Jo goes back to her steak, but she feels a pair of eyes on her. She looks up.

“So Jo, where did you move here from?” Meredith asks her, and Jo thinks it’s meant to be threatening, but she’s become comfortable enough with the rest of the party, that it doesn’t bother her.

“Uh Maryland. I did my residency at John Hopkins,” Jo drops her own fork, picking up her glass to take an awkward sip.

“I thought I heard you were married,” Maggie interjects, “if you don’t mind me asking, are you?” Jo meets Alex’s eyes across the table.

“No,” she falters, “I uh- I was married. A very long time ago. I’m not sure where you...I’m not.” Jo swallows, and then takes another hasty sip, hoping the alcohol will burn her throat.

“Is he gone?” Meredith asks, and Jo barely comprehends the question because of the boldness in the statement. Jo’s pulse races and she tries to hide her quickening breath.

“Yes, uh- he uh- he died,” she stops to catch her breath, “Hit and run on his morning jog.”

Meredith looks at her in disbelief. Jo can’t fully understand why she’s being interrogated so personally. Who are these people, and why can’t they ask her about what she grew up or something?

Only it occurs to her that she grew up in thirteeen different houses, and her car, and her dorm rooms.

So she feels herself tipping over the edge, but she freezes. She just has to answer right; like she’s applying to be a part of this family.

“I’m very sorry,” Maggie grabs her hand, and Jo wants to strangle her, and Hayes; who is giving her a pitiful look. She thinks she hears more ‘sorry’s but her hearing has gone funny.

It’s unnerving, because no one should feel bad he’s dead. He deserves to rot. Link gives Jo a worried look, but she can’t bring herself to look up at him.

“Maybe that’s eno-“ Alex begins, but Meredith persists.

“Is that why you drove Izzie Stevens away? Because you needed someone else with damage to be with? You slept with another woman’s husband.”

Jo finally looks back up at Meredith, disbelief written all over her face. Did she really think that Jo and Alex had been together while Izzie and him were together? And Alex hasn’t told anyone why Izzie left?

She can’t stop the tears that fall, but she can put her foot down on Meredith’s harassment of her.

“I didn’t sleep with anyone, especially not someone who’s married. Maybe you should ask your dear friend Alex why his wife left, and not immediately blame me, what...because I’m new to town, and let him sleep on my floor?”

Jo scoots her chair back, and heads for the porch. It’s raining because it’s always raining in this god damn city, so Jo just stands there and let’s herself be soaked.

She hears the door open behind her, and she assumes it’s Link or Amelia, but Hayes is the one who stands next to her.

“Meredith can be brash. She doesn’t mean harm, but she’s very protective of the people she loves. And Alex hadn’t told her the whole story. I’m not saying you shouldn’t be mad at her, but know that she likes you, Jo. She just loves Alex more.”

Jo looks at him, “I know. I’m more mad at Alex than her. He let her believe- let all of you believe that I- I’m not a home wrecker. I’ve never slept with Alex, and I didn’t drive Izzie away. I was just being a friend.” Hayes nods.

Jo begins again, “You and Meredith, you’re...together?” He nods again.

“Thank you,” Jo sighs. Hayes goes back inside the house, and she hears the door shut. Jo feels the presence of another person behind her and this time she knows who it is.

“Are you alright? I’m sorry I didn’t tell Meredith. I had no idea that’s what she thought, and I sure as hell didn’t know she invited you here to shame you.”

Jo wraps her arms around herself.

“My husband- he died, and it was the best day of my life,” she swallows, “I wanted that son of a bitch gone so bad. He wasn’t a good person, or a good husband. He hurt me in ways no amount of therapy ever healed.” She gets no response.

“I ran away from him, at the beginning of the summer in between my first and second years of med school. Two weeks later, I got a call that he had been hit by a car.

I saw his body all mangled; both his hips had been displaced, and he had a cervical spine fracture. He would’ve been paralyzed,” Jo stops for a moment to brace herself.

“He was braindead. So I pulled the plug, I signed the damn papers, and I let him die wholly, right then and there. And I thought that I deserved it. Like I deserved him hitting me. But I came to know that I didn’t.

I didn’t deserve to be made into nothing by him. You want to know what else I know I don’t deserve? To be called a whore and a home wrecker by your friends. To sit at a dinner table where everyone is questioning me or staring at me like I’m some sort of exotic bird.”

Alex finally stands next to Jo, and looks down at her. He doesn’t say anything, but he grabs her hand. She’s crying, and she can’t stop.

“I love you. You hear me? You let me sleep on your floor, and you bring me donuts in the middle of the night. I love you for that.”

“I know,” she mumbles. “It’s not enough though, Alex. You need to be honest with people. You need to do some growing up.

Because we’ve all been through bad crap, we’ve all thought we’d never see the light of day again. I love you too, but you have to grow up. Accept that Izzie left, and handle it.

Don’t sweep it under the rug like it was nothing; because that will ruin you, and every relationship you care about. Stop pretending it never happened, or that it didn’t happen the way it did.”

Alex pulls her by her hand inside the door.

“Okay. I’m sorry.”

Jo looks back up at him, “I know that too.”