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chocoholicannanymous · 3 years ago

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If the Spit Hits the Fan (Glee) Part XV

Follows pt I, pt II, pt III, pt IV, pt V, part VI, pt VII, part VIII, part IX, part X, part XI, part XII, part XIII and part XIV.

Being Sebastian's boyfriend really isn't that much different from being his friend. They do a lot of the same things, and talk about the same stuff, only now there's hand-holding and kissing and cuddling with it. Apart from the touching though? Nothing really changes much.

Which kind of makes it sound like how it was with Blaine.

It's not though.

Sebastian will hold his hand in the hallway without worrying about being seen. And yes, Dalton is different from McKinley – so, so much different, and safer – but Blaine even hesitated to hold Kurt's hand in the choir room, surrounded by friends.

Sebastian kisses him in a way that never leaves Kurt doubting there's attraction, and has to stop his hands from wandering too far on a regular basis – yet never making Kurt worry he won't stop.

Sebastian makes Kurt have to stop himself, both from allowing it and from doing his own wandering. They're still too new to go there, no matter how much Kurt's hormones sit up and beg every time Sebastian touches him. (They'll get there, Kurt's sure, just... Step by step, and not yet.)

Sebastian reaches out for Kurt without looking – sometimes seemingly without thinking – to pull him close, and always makes a space for him.

And when Sebastian sings, it's with Kurt, or for him, not at him.

It's a far cry from scheduled make-outs and avoiding even PG13 levels of PDA and being made to feel like his boyfriend is more interested in his own hand than in Kurt.

It's amazing.

There's a rainbow rose hanging on Kurt's door on Valentine's day. He and Sebastian have been dating for two days – a day and a half, if he was to be picky – and Kurt knows from last year's insanity that there's not a flower shop within two hours of Vesterville that carries rainbow roses. They have to be ordered special, and with a lot more warning than two days.

Kurt's not the least bit ashamed about how he squeals, or how he turns on his heel and kisses his boyfriend (!) for long enough to be a little dizzy afterwards.

This isn't to say that Sebastian is a perfect boyfriend. He's not. Then again, neither is Kurt. He's working from romantic movies and the examples from the New directions, and of course from his time with Blaine. Neither is a good road map. Romantic movies have so many flaws Kurt don't really want to examine, and a lot of his favorites are set too far back in time to be useful as guidelines. The loves lives of his old glee mates are...well. They're flawed too, when seen without rose-colored glasses and envy.

As for his relationship with Blaine... Even if he's not counting how it ended that relationship was so very less than perfect, and honestly it was both their faults. Kurt's not without blame, he knows that and can admit it without somehow pretending what Blaine did wrong never happened.

So he's trying to learn from his mistakes, and other people's mistakes, and he does his best to communicate with Sebastian – who does the same in return.

Also, no one can say that they don't argue. They definitely do. They have from the beginning, and they're both opinionated passionate people, so why should they stop now? Their relationship has changed – they themselves haven't.

It's just that they manage to argue in a way that works. That doesn't makes Kurt pull out his claws to eviscerate Sebastian, that doesn't scare Kurt, or make him give in to “preserve the peace”. That, right there, was one of the things that had sent his relationship with Blaine down the wrong turn. When he'd first told his dad that he'd begun dating Blaine Burt Hummel had told him never to go to bed angry with his partner. He'd meant to sort out arguments and disagreements, but Kurt had interpreted it as needing to back down and push down his anger or hurt. With Sebastian he doesn't.

They argue, because that's who – and how – they are, but they do it in as mature and healthy way as they are able to, being teenagers. And they apologize if they step over the line. Not Kurt apologizes, regardless, with Sebastian pouting until he does, but both of them.

If Kurt had to, he'd call it damned near perfect. Instead he'll just say it's good, and he's happy.

That's never something to look down on.

The week of Regionals is weird. Kurt's never felt as prepared or as calm with a competition approaching, which is rather telling. The rest of the Warblers are a different story though. Kurt has made it clear that his primary goal is to beat the Troubletones, and his friends are feeling the pressure. They even ask if Kurt and Sebastian won't reconsider singing 'Human Nature'.

“Look, guys, I'm honored, really, that you would trust me, us like that. But I want to win more than I want that solo. And even if we ignore the fact that Ohio doesn't seem ready for a gay duet, I really do think the setlist we have is stronger as is. The Troubletones have a great presence, and both Mercedes and Santana are awesomely talented. However, everything about the Troubletones are built around them. The rest of the girls are background and dancing. If we go on with a number that's the same they are going to win, for no other reason than that most people find girls prettier and nicer to look at.

“But if we go on as an actual choir, for a show choir competition? We'll win. I'm sure of it. We've worked so hard with our songs, and I wouldn't change a thing about our setlist.”

And it's true. They have an amazing setlist, and everything flows in a way that makes Kurt feel practically professional, and he's not giving that – and its chance to win – up to stare longingly at Sebastian while singing a song that exposes them to the core.

No. Kurt's going to have quite a lot more time in the spotlight than he'd expected when turning down a proper solo. He's going to sing with his friends, and his boyfriend, and he's going to show McKinley what it means to be a team onstage.

The Troubletones are just as amazing onstage as Kurt thought. They've done a good job picking their songs, and Mercedes still has the best voice he's ever heard live. Santana's not quite as talented, but give her the right song – which these are – and she'll blow your mind. Their choreography showcases the girls poached from the Cheerios without making Mercedes look too far behind, and their clothes look good.

Kurt would vote for them any day, even with Rachel being given a place in the background, except this one. This is going to be his day. He meets Sebastians eyes as they line up and nods.

Showtime.

'I want You Back' does exactly what it's meant to, namely getting the audience in a party mood. As the last notes flows into the first from 'Man in the Mirror' the mood shifts and Kurt feels his own shift with it. His solo feels a little raw, because in no way can he sing those lines without being reminded of all the crap he's gone through over the past 6 months.

“...a willow deeply scared, somebody's broken heart and a washed out dream...”

Well. His heart might have been broken, and his dreams about Blaine did wash out. But he's got new dreams, and his hearts healed, and no matter the scars he's whole where it matters. And even if he wasn't? He's looking in the mirror, and he's changing.

They bring the party back with their last song, giving their all transforming the sounds of 'Beat It' to sounds that can be reproduced by the human throat. The dancing is the most demanding Kurt's ever done onstage, and he knows he will definitely be beat after. But they look and sound awesome, and that's all that matters.

Or maybe not, he ruefully thinks as he sees Finn on his feet, jumping up and down and whooping as the Warblers are proclaimed the winners and Rachel looks like she's been pelted with eggs again.

“You stole our songs!”

Of course. All Kurt wants to do is get on the bus, go back to Dalton and celebrate. Okay, shower, then celebrate. So naturally Rachel is waiting to ambush him. Well, that's not going to go the way she's probably thinking.

“Really? Really Rachel, you're going there? You know very well that we didn't steal anything. Oh, I know that there was a suggestion that the New Directions do Michael for Sectionals, but I also know that you were the one who refused to accept it.

“You really blew it there. Michael is a great choice for Sectionals or Regionals, what with the Ohio mindset, and I'm pretty sure you would have won with the setlist the guys suggested. I'm not surprised you put a stop to it though.”

Rachel draws back, looking first shocked, then insulted, then finally like an angry goose, complete with hissing sound. He's not letting it touch him though, lets it run over him, one might say, like water over a goose.

“There are no songs in Michael Jacksons discography that's a given for you, no certainty that you'll be featured. And in the end, that's what mattered, wasn't it? Not that the New Directions won, but that you won. You wanted to beat the Troubletones, didn't you? Wanted to show that you were better than Mercedes, wanted to prove that her beating you when auditioning for Maria was just a fluke. Wanted to prove what everyone knows, that's she's every bit as good as you, and sometimes better, is wrong.

“Well, congratulations. You got what you wanted in terms of the setlist and the spotlight, but you fucked up everything else. And not just for you, but for everyone.”

An expression of pain flies across Rachel's face, and he pushes the knife in a little bit further.

“We weren't as blind though. The minute Finn told me about the Michael setlist I knew it was a winner. As did the other Warblers. I asked Finn first, and Sam and Puck. They didn't think we needed their permission, as you didn't use the songs, but they gave it any way.”

Kurt looks at Rachel, looks at the way she's still fuming, still refusing to see any other side than her own. It won't matter what he says – she'll keep ignoring any and all arguments against her. Once he might have tried harder to make her understand, but as things are he just wants to leave. His boyfriend's waiting and that makes Kurt out of time to spend on his former friend.

“Your loss, our gain.”

He starts to leave, but thinks better of it. He's got one more jab in him.

“Oh, and Rachel? Don't worry. Going to Nationals is a privilege, and we won't waste it. We've already gotten started on a setlist.”

It's petty, but. So's she.

That evening the Warblers celebrate as thoroughly as a bunch of uniformed boys in a well-staffed boarding school can. This means that it's late when Kurt drags Sebastian to his room (unlike him Sebastian's in a single), but neither of them is under the influence of anything but happiness.

That's important to Kurt as they tumble into Sebastian's bed while kissing, because he doesn't want there to be any doubt in Sebastian's mind that when Kurt pulls off his shirt and then goes for his fly it's because he wants to.

Having Sebastian stop him is frustrating, to say the very least.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

It's only the fact that it's Sebastian, and that he's shown himself trustworthy in so many ways over the past months that stops Kurt from storming out.

“I thought we... You know?”

It's so hard to say, to open himself up like this, years of being told he's a predator, or ugly, or plain wrong getting just as much in his way as the fact that he's never done this, and the only time he's been even close wasn't even about him.

Apparently he's going to have to use his words regardless, because Sebastian's not taking the opening.

“I thought we could have sex.” There. Words. Consent. Door wide open.

And yet Sebastian's still not taking the opening.

“What's the hurry?”

Kurt pulls back a little, hurt blooming.

“No, no, don't. Talk to me, okay? I'm a bit surprised I guess. We haven't even been dating for two months yet, and I know this is new for you.”

“So? It's not like I'm waiting for marriage.”

Kurt knows he sounds a bit snippy, and he has sort of been waiting – not for marriage, but for something, some feeling of more. He's got that feeling with Sebastian, so what's the point of waiting any longer? Everyone else his age (or so it feels) is having sex so why can't he?

Some of it must bleed through because Sebastian gets that “aha” look, and nods a bit.

“Look, regardless of what I might have said or implied when chasing Blaine, I'm actually not the whore of Babylon. I have, however, rounded a few bases and enjoyed them. I think you'd enjoy them too, and I would love to find out first hand. But that doesn't have to mean we go straight to fucking.” Kurt blushes, because he might be ready to do it, but those words...

“So. I'm not going to push, and I'm not going to rush. I am more than interested though, I'm just happy to take it a bit slow. To build up to every step. As far as I'm concerned you've earned that.”

Sebastian's looking so earnest it kills Kurt annoyance, and then lightning-quick it's replaced by a vicked look than makes him shiver all over.

“I wouldn't mind showing you the first of many, many bases now though. How about it, babe?”

Kurt doesn't mind either, neither then nor the next day.

#chocoholic fics #kurt fic #kurt hummel #sebastian smythe #a wild sebastian appears #kurtbastian

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canary3d-obsessed · 4 years ago

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Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 06 (first part)

(Masterpost)(Episode 05)

Warning: This contains spoilers for All 50 Episodes

Bad Boys Bad Boys What You Gonna Do

Nie Huasang’s brought his nuts, and someone’s brought wine, so the boys are drinking in Wei Wuxian’s guest house. Finally he gets to drink some of the Emperor’s Smile wine that he’s been doing all those product placements for.

Boys, get a bowl or something for your shells, were you raised in a barn?

Wei Wuxian hits on waxes poetic about the wine, and Jiang Cheng tells him to shut up.

Wang Zhuocheng’s raw-fish-eating face may have failed him, but his drunk faces do not disappoint.

Wei Wuxian teases Jiang Cheng about his list of standards for a chick: She should have natural beauty, be virtuous and caring, from a good family, not too talkative, with a gentle voice, and not too capable. Also she should not spend too much money. Drunken running ensues.

Cue Maple Leaf Rag by Scott Joplin

(more behind the cut)

Much of the fandom has decided this list is a good fit for Nie Huaisang himself, and it sorta is. But he is both talkative and unvirtuous, what with all the current sneakiness, and all the eventual murders.

This also definitely doesn't fit Wen Qing because she's capable as hell.

This list is, however, a 100% a match for Jiang Yanli. Not in a weird, Jin Guangyao way--a lot of men want to marry a woman like their sister. In a gender-divided and generation-divided society, a man’s sister might be the only woman he’s ever known well. Jiang Cheng adores Yanli and she’s his ideal model of a woman, as opposed to his mother, who...isnt.

All these robes and talismans over the door do nothing to stop Lan Wangji from strolling in.

Okay so - Lan Wangji is the senior disciple of the Lan Clan, yea? There is no way that patrolling the guest area is in any way his job. He is just walking around here at night specifically to see what Wei Wuxian is doing.

I already did a gifpost of the boys and their totally nonsexual horseplay, over here. I’ll just add, for sad factor, that Jiang Cheng is play-choking Wei Wuxian when they’re all on the bed, and later in the running-and-crying episode he is gonna for-real choke him. Foreshadowing! or maybe just coincidence!

One fun thread running through the young-cultivators episodes is that Nie Huaisang is legit terrified of Lan Wangji while also having a major aesthetic crush on him. Look at how flustered he is here, trying to act sober while also checking him out.

Lan Wangji is shocked and visibly upset - what are you guys doing? This is not his busting face, this is, for a moment, his vulnerable and disillusioned face. He is super not used to what normal people are like.

Wei Wuxian doesn't lie or otherwise try to get off the hook, which has got to have Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang grinding their teeth in frustration. He invites Lan Wangji to join them for a drink. LWJ cites a the “no drinking on campus” rule and WWX tries to convince him to chill.

Then we have this lovely coordinated faint by the boys, to get out of going to get punished. Nie Huaisang has been practicing fainting in front of a mirror just in case he ever needs a skill like that in the future.

Wei Wuxian keeps trying to turn this into a date. Eventually Lan Wangji is so upset he admits he can’t take all three of them by himself.

Then the boys run away fake-barfing and Wei Wuxian hits Lan Wangji with a talisman.

Steal His Agency That’s What You’re Gonna Do

What Wei Wuxian does to Lan Wanji here is definitely wrong. But it's not entirely a disaster. It allows some crucial information to be shared between them, and it results in Wei Wuxian getting the utter shit beat out of him and never doing this again. I mean, he continues to mind-control his enemies and their eventual corpses, but he doesn't intentionally violate a friend or ally's autonomy in the future. Uhh not counting that whole golden core surgery-without-consent situation. And probably some other situations I’ve forgotten. He improves slightly, okay?

It’s important to note, incidentally, that the Lan rules about drinking and other “vices” should not be viewed through a Christian lens. The Lans are neither puritans nor ascetics (look at their clothes, furniture, and jewelry, for starters). Being drunk is forbidden probably because it’s a loss of self-control.

Speaking of self-control, mad props to Wang Yibo for being able to have zero physical reaction to fingers snapping in his face.

Drunk Lan Wangji

Under duress, Lan Wangji knocks back a cup of wine and promptly passes most of the way out.

Wei Wuxian puts Lan Wangji into bed not unkindly, but pretty much like a sack of potatoes. Compare this to how tenderly he handles Lan Wangji the next time he’s drunk.

WWX tells LWJ to call him Wei Gege, and giggles. Is this a term of endearment in this context? So far the various boys are calling each other -xiong, not -ge or gege. In Western media, men calling each other “bro” is basically saying “no homo,” but brotherhood and sisterhood in C-Drama is often a way of indicating stronger love than friendship, without saying whether it's sexual or not.

They finally start to have a conversation, and when Lan Wangji explains that no-one can touch his headband except, etc etc, Wei Wuxian stops trying to touch it. So at least he's not a handsy bastard in addition to all his other faults.

Wei Wuxian tells Lan Wangji that his clan is boring and women won't want to marry him. Lan Wangji says that's fine. On one level this is the show acknowledging that he's gay, but I think he's responding in a gender-neutral way; he doesn't want to marry anyone. Marriage, from his perspective, is the literal worst.

We don't know how he felt about his father, but he definitely loved his mother deeply, and she had a profoundly unhappy marriage, in which her husband did not provide companionship and her children were taken from her.

A note about all that: The dynamics of heterosexual marriages in The Untamed are not based on contemporary companionate marriage. Sex and reproduction is a wife's job in this world, and giving a gentry woman the option to choose her husband is radical. Wei Wuxian is the only one who dares say that Jiang Yanli should have a choice when Jin Guangshan casually tries to give her to his son in front of everyone.

OP made this today but will totally reuse it when episode 23 rolls around

So Lan Wangji’s parents' marriage was extremely problematic but not necessarily for the reasons it would be in contemporary terms. Having signed on to marry Lan Dad, Mom would have expected to live together and get laid regularly (important for health, in some traditional views, regardless of love/no love) and to have the company of her children. Instead, she was isolated. Lan Dad wanted to have it both ways and so even though he loved her and apparently hooked up with her sometimes, he didn't do his duty by her. She didn't love him but she did her duty.

Wei Wuxian continues to not get it, calling Lan Wangji dull and babbling about Lan Wangji’s parents until he realizes that LWJ is an orphan like him.

A nice shift happens here. Once the penny drops, Wei Wuxian doesn't ask a single additional question - he just sees - by reading Lan Wangji’s face - what the deal is, and shares his own story to show he understands.

This is the first time Wei Wuxian mentions being chased by dogs, which is kind of a big deal, because why was he left all alone when his parents died?

Why didn't anyone take him in before Jiang Fengmian found him? How isolated are independent cultivators in this world?

Tea Time

Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen are having tea, and the Lan Clan is so uptight they don't touch each other's teacups. I don't know what this thing is called so I'm going to call it a tea speculum.

Lan Qiren is back from the cultivation conference and says the red crack plague is happening over in Qinghe where the Nie clan lives. Lan Xichen fills him in on the water demon, specifically saying Wei Wuxian figured out the connection to the red crack dudes, and explaining who WWX is, as if Lan QIren hadn't already thrown stuff at him and threatened to eventually kill him.

Fun fact that I just noticed this week so didn't make it into earlier posts: In Episode 46, when Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian are in the Jiang ancestral hall, WWX says he was often punished to kneel there, and LWJ said that they heard about this in Gusu.

So when WWX came to Gusu he already had a reputation as a troublemaker, and the Lan brothers were aware of it.

Busted and Beaten

A Lan snitch comes in to say that Wei Wuxian has successfully corrupted Lan Wangji, which really shouldn’t cause as much surprise as it does.

“Wei Wuxian got drunk”

“Lan Wangji got drunk”

Lan Xichen takes a moment to consider carefully whether Wei Wuxian is a good friend for his little brother and whether perhaps he was too hasty in throwing them together. Ha ha ha no he doesn’t.

On the punishment porch, Lan Xichen tries to lecture Lan Wangji in a calm way, but Lan Qiren wants to beat him and Lan Wangji wants to get beat. Wei Wuxian can’t understand why Lan Wangji doesn’t let him take the blame for the drinking.

Lan Qiren goes way the fuck overboard with this punishment because he's angry--losing control and losing his sense of proportion--and Lan Xichen is shocked. The drone camera watching from above is also shocked.

Lan Qiren has a few (very few) redeeming qualities, but his extreme rigidity and chronic resentment of anyone he perceives as bad are serious problems. His nephews are both struggling with complex moral quandaries as they get older, and he is absolutely no help to them in resolving their conflicts.

This is definitely...a style of parenting & teaching, but you can see how poorly it works, with Lan Wangji straight up saying “fuck it” after many years of conformity. Lan Xichen is devoted to the middle path and tries to be obedient. But he is actually not walking anywhere near the middle path, as he gets pulled into colluding with a murderer at the same time as getting dragged onto his brother’s carnival ride. These men need parenting that isn’t so, uh, fucking stupid. (Yes, grown adults still need good parenting; watch Go Ahead if you doubt me)

Wei Wuxian initially yells and falls down when he gets hit, but then he sees Lan Wangji is taking the beating without any reaction and he tries to do the same.

Aftermath

Jiang Yanli gently lectures the boys, blaming Jiang Cheng for Wei Wuxian's drinking. Jesus Christ, he's the younger sibling, could you just NOT, Yanli?

Both boys ask Yanli not to tell their parents. The boys bicker about who's at fault and then Wei Wuxian shifts to baby voice and starts whining to Yanli about the pain.

Yanli tells him to suck it up, and says after school she'll -- ok and I know this will be a surprise for everyone -- make soup for them. The boys immediately get back on the same team, which is team Please Put Meat In the Soup.

There's a nice character building moment for Wei Wuxian here. When he sees Lan Xichen he initially turns away to avoid running into him, but then he adults-up and goes to face him and greet him, giving him a half of a bow because of the pain, the pain. Rather than complaining about his punishment he meekly asks if he's broken another rule.

Lan Xichen tells him that he did wrong but that Lan Qiren’s punishment was too harsh, and then in what is one of my favorite Lan Xichen moments, invites Wei Wuxian to use the cold spring to heal, but doesn't invite Jiang Cheng to go with him even though Jiang Cheng also was beaten. Lan Xichen, Matchmaker Auntie Extraordinaire.

Then he answers Wei Wuxian’s question about his mom by saying she was just like Wei Wuxian and drove Lan Qiran up the wall. Jiang Cheng's reaction to that is really sweet. He does enjoy Wei Wuxian at the same time as being constantly irritated by him.

Lan Xichen does his patented “breaking off in the middle of saying something and leaving out a chunk of the story” maneuver, although this time he doesn't include a flute solo.

OP is mildly obsessed with Xuan Lu’s shoulders in this outfit. Also Yanli has an interesting sword, that's got some wood carving similar to Subian, but without the organic look, which OP only noticed because of screen capping Xuan Lu’s shoulders.

Club Ruohan

Wen Qing continues to be pretty and slightly evil at this stage, sending magic fire notes to her boss using this talisman that is definitely floating in the air and not just hanging from a string.

Wen Ruohan is in the mosh pit with his zombie groupies while he reads Wen Qing’s extremely vague status update and says "it all makes sense."

Reach out and touch faith

Soundtrack

Maple Leaf Rag by Scott Joplin Personal Jesus by Depeche Mode

Writing Prompt

How did Wei Wuxian’s parents die?

Admin Notes

I’m going to start spacing out my “first part” and “second part” posts by a few days. I’ll update this post to link up the second part once I post it, and my masterpost is always up to date.

Also: if you want more of my original content but don’t want to follow my whole blog (not following is fine!), I keep a pinboard of fun stuff at the top of my blog. I try to post original content at least once a week.

Continued in the second part later this week!

#fytheuntamed #wangxian #the untamed #cql #the untamed gifs #the untamed meta #my gifs #restless rewatch the untamed #restless rewatch #canary3d #the untamed spoilers

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astudyinfreewill · 4 years ago

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“look what you made me do” 2/? | masterpost

aka: me making taylor swift songs about dean winchester and/or deancas bc it’s what dean himself would want

second song on deck, as promised; this one actually has quite a few cas beats in it, especially at the start, despite it having a dean vibe overall, so it should be interesting. again, bonus fanvid link at the end <3

this is me trying

i've been having a hard time adjusting i had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting

ok, we start off strong with a couplet that could suit either dean or cas. “the shiniest wheels” is actually a perfectly fitting metaphor for a show that treats cars like emotional avatars of the people who drive them (i could so easily go into a digression about how the same thing happens in trc but this is the wrong post for that... how do i keep finding myself emotionally invested in car-fetishizing media while barely being a can-drive gay myself). ANYWAY, the first thing that comes to mind is the impala and how it’s pretty much synonymous with dean’s sense of self, how it gets wrecked and rebuilt over the course of the show, often tied in to his emotional state. and dean, well. he’s built up a lot of trauma over the years, but he’s also just getting older, as humans do.

on the other hand, we could also see it as a cas line - he’s not as much of a carfucker car aficionado as dean but he’s an adoptive winchester so hey, it still kinda works (rip to the pimpmobile, gone but not forgotten). what i MEAN is -- cas has been slowly falling from grace ever since season 4. he was becoming more human in season 5 already, with a grim prediction of his human future in 5x04; then lived as human for a while in season 7; then became completely human in season 9 before regaining his grace. but in season 15, again, his grace was apparently failing (boy it would be SUCH a shame if that plot point just, like... got dropped... 😐). substitute “wings” for “wheels” and you get a picture of someone who used to be this unstoppable, super-powered angel soldier that demons cowered in fear of, but has slowly become more human over time. as for “a hard time adjusting”... well, cas’ journey towards humanity has not been the easiest transition: it’s come with self-doubt, mental and physical pain, and of course, as he learned about love: heartbreak.

TL;DR: LIFE COMES AT YOU FAST AND THESE GUYS ARE TIRED.

i didn't know if you'd care if i came back; i have a lot of regrets about that

‘kay, this next part is definitely cas. cas who, as i mentioned in the previous post, just keeps leaving, whether that’s because he’s sacrificing himself or taking off on his own. and because that typically goes over like a lead balloon with dean, either because it leaves him grieving and traumatised or it plays right into his abandonment issues (or both - hello purgatory arc!), cas would be tentative about coming back. it’s also very apparent that castiel feels like the winchesters only value him for his abilities and powers (and after all, he’s been created to be a soldier), so if he feels like he’s not being helpful enough, he also tends not to feel wanted (again: dean wants him to stay, but cas wants to be asked to stay). plus, we know every time they’ve had a falling out it takes dean a bit to get over his anger (“dean, i thought i was doing the right thing”; “yeah, you always do”) so i don’t think cas takes his forgiveness for granted, especially if he has lied to him in the process (yes i’m thinking about the mixtape episode). “a lot of regrets”, indeed.

pulled the car off the road to the lookout, could've followed my fears all the way down; and maybe i don't quite know what to say, but i'm here in your doorway.

here, again, the car can easily work as a metaphor for someone’s emotional state. pulling over to take a breather, to try to assess things from a distance; and with lookout points so often being perched on steep hills, it’s easy to imagine the sense of vertigo, your own fear and self-doubt almost pushing you towards dangerous, self-destructive ideas. and we know cas doesn’t do things by halves - when he’s committed to something he believes is right, he goes all out. and yes, that has led to more than one falling out.

but despite that - despite his worst fears telling him he should not come back to dean unless he’s “coming back with a win”, or able to protect him from harm (yes i’m thinking about the mixtape episode AGAIN), he does always come back to him. it’s the one thing that dean can always depend on, castiel finding his way back to him like dean is his true north. i’m here in your doorway; the please take me back once more is implied.

i just wanted you to know that this is me trying i just wanted you to know that this is me trying

(and dean does take him back, because however many times castiel feels that he has failed in his mission, he always comes back and tries again, tries harder, tries to make it right or do it better. and that’s something dean relates to - fucking up in the worst ways and getting beaten down but always getting back up, always starting over, always trying again. in fact, he’s kind of the one who taught cas that. and with that-- we move over to the dean portion of this.)

they told me all of my cages were mental so I got wasted like all my potential

ah, it wouldn’t be a dean pov without some good old fashioned self deprecation. “all of my cages were mental” isn’t 100% accurate in dean’s case because he has been dealt a pretty shit hand by life, but he also excels at self-sabotage. “I got wasted” is of course an allusion to his alcoholism, but then we have the clever play on words with “wasted potential”, which... hits close to home. all dean’s ever done is tried to live up to what he thought he should be, always feeling like he was falling short. never quite the favourite son, never the man his father thought he should be, not strong enough to resist hell, not the righteous sword of michael the angels expected, not good enough for the people he loves not to leave him, just not enough.

and my words shoot to kill when I'm mad i have a lot of regrets about that

...as i said above: though dean does always forgive the people he loves, it still takes him quite a bit to get over his anger at them. and when he’s angry, he lashes out, often saying things that come off cruel, things he absolutely does not mean. and this part reminds me, yet again, of dean’s painful confession in 15x09, about how he gets so angry and doesn’t know why (of course, the answer is trauma and childhood abuse; but he has no way to process that); and he tries to stop it but he can’t, and he always, always regrets it in the end.

i was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere fell behind all my classmates and i ended up here

oh, dean. dean winchester with his ged and his give ‘em hell attitude. he breaks my heart. i touched on this in my previous post, but there’s something to be said for the fact that dean had to grow up so fast, he really didn’t grow at all in some ways ( “so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere”). from a young age he was shoved in a parental role, having to be both a father and mother to sam, which meant never getting to exist just for himself. which of course, in turn, means he never got to develop a healthy degree of emotional maturity. in “bad boys”, we find out that the only time dean even got close to being a normal teenager, receiving positive reinforcement by sonny and bonding with his peers, john ripped him right out of that safe haven; and by the time “after school special” is set in, he’s given up on ever getting a shot at a healthy environment, using denial as a coping mechanism by trying to pass off his and sam’s shitty, depressing lives as super edgy and cool.

pourin' out my heart to a stranger but i didn't pour the whiskey i just wanted you to know that this is me trying i just wanted you to know that this is me trying at least i'm trying

i don’t really need to explain this bit i guess, but it’s about the implications of how it can somehow be easier to open up to a complete stranger rather than someone you care about; and how for dean, who is used to frequenting seedy bars and dives, one-night stands are as much about comfort than they are about pleasure. that’s the only way he knows how to let himself be touched, seen, held -- because of course, “no chick flick moments”, and besides, we know that when he falls in love he falls hard, so it’s safer to just roll in and out of town.

the interesting part in this context though, is that “but i didn’t pour the whiskey”, especially since we know dean, like every other winchester, tends to drown out his problems with alcohol; so him choosing to not do that, and instead just look for comfort from a stranger (whether it’s through sex or just chatting away at a bar) is, in itself, a sign of trying to do better. because if there’s one thing dean knows how to do, is trying, and trying, and trying again. in fact, as i mentioned above, it’s kinda where cas learned it too. and we know dean is a stand-in for human nature, so of course, this is also a larger discourse of how humans are flawed and imperfect but can always improve, always do better, always try harder or be more. and maybe that’s what makes a righteous man, really.

and it's hard to be at a party when i feel like an open wound it's hard to be anywhere these days when all i want is you you're a flashback in a film reel on the one screen in my town

this next part... listen. i don’t know how it fits into the narrative of trying, but what i do know is i can’t stop thinking about grieving dean. about how every time he loses cas, a little piece of him dies too, but it’s a piece that gets bigger and bigger every time, carving a hollow inside him. it’s unsightly, it’s unforgiving, it’s raw - it’s like an open wound. and as much as dean has always taken on the role of the person who puts on a brave face, makes a joke, and pushes all his feelings down, well -- it’s hard to that; it’s hard to focus on anything else when he’s missing cas like a phantom limb. “all i want is you” which is to say i’d rather have you, cursed or not; which is to say, i need you. need you badly enough to see your face everywhere after escaping purgatory, just like “a flashback in a film reel”.

and i just wanted you to know that this is me trying (maybe i don't quite know what to say) i just wanted you to know that this is me trying; at least i'm trying.

so, yes. dean is trying. he’s always trying, even though healing and progress are not linear or easy. and he knows he’s got anger issues, he knows he’s bad with his words, but damn it, he always shows up for the people he loves, and he tries to do better, every. damn. time. partly because he’s us, he’s all of us, he’s human perfectibility incarnate; and partly because he loves cas so damn much and maybe if he gets it right this time he’ll get to keep him -- and i don’t know which of the two options makes my heart hurt the most.

---

fanvid rec link here! it’s only for the second half of the song, so the more dean-centric one :)

#spn #dean winchester #castiel #destiel #spn meta #deancas #taylor swift #lyrics #taylor swift x destiel #lwymmd #mp #this is me trying #long post

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skinks · 4 years ago

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i think fundamentally the most repressed & untouched people enjoy the horniest stuff. wonder what kind of porn richie-repressed-gay-desensitized-to-porn-tozier had to use to get off to in 2016. thots?

2) i feel like he's subscribed to a sci-fi mlm tentacle porn zine

I mean who amongst us isn’t

Nah lmao I totally agree, there’s something about being so emotionally and often physically untouched that does make people go a little intense. Every touch or overture of affection becomes amplified, no matter how small or unthinking on the other person’s part. To the point where even the idea of getting that kind of intimacy is almost painful, let alone experiencing it. Sometimes I think about this art and about Richie and it makes me want to scream like a banshee so we’ll move on

So yeah that’s the thing! Richie’s so deadened to real connection that in the late 90s/early 2000s he probably sought out more and more niche stuff. Partly with the thrill of finally having internet access after an adolescence of pretending to like Playboy, but mainly because he quickly becomes bored and numb, like you say, and keeps pushing his own boundaries.

He probably struggles with videos of real people because his guilt and self-loathing he associates with the post-nut is so strong he can’t actually enjoy anything. Especially if one of the dudes is shorter and clean cut and dark eyed, the strength of the nut is directly correlated to the depth of his anxious nausea afterwards.

Also he’s a big nerd, so who knows, maybe he WAS lurking around on livejournal or /coq/ on plus4chan in the late 2000s and beating it furiously to lovingly fan-drawn spideypool web bondage. Oh look, how convenient, the character getting rawed by a giant hunky headcrab zombie in this highly detailed drawing is Gordon Freeman, he wears glasses too! Oh my god Richie used the word “fapping” in irl conversation

But, by the time he’s in his late 30s and taking SSRIs that kill his sex drive, I don’t think that he’d be getting off much at all, by himself or otherwise. And once you purge all that extreme stuff out of your psyche and suddenly reconnect (platonically, which he berates himself should be enough, but Richie has only ever been able to lie to other people) with perhaps the only other guy in the world whose hangups about sex are worse than yours, suddenly Richie’s right back to puberty and all it takes is the big fleeting grins Eddie carefully rations out on facetime. The way Eddie’s tucked-in shirt pulls tight around his waist when he’s twisting in his seat to hail down a waiter. Or the way he doesn’t even stop talking when he flings out a hand to Richie’s stomach to stop him walking into Manhattan traffic.

A palmful of heat on his stomach through his tshirt, and Richie’s hit by what feels like a garbage truck regardless, slamming hand hand hand move it down hand on my dick and he is DESPAIRING of himself for mustering up a half-chub just for that.

After all. This is the man who regularly won nofap contests in some of the deepest darkest imageboards there were, if only because wringing a sad one out for Batman/Superman vampire bat transformation size kink blood inflation vore guro isn’t really something he could do twice

#idk if that exists but it might #some of the stuff on tf2chan circa 2009... woah nelly

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sinful-imagines · 5 years ago

Text

3 times Koichi was the mom friend and one time he was just a mom

aka The dumb Duwang Gang fic I spent far too long on

AO3 link

Word count: 5442

It was a late Sunday afternoon, and Koichi was enjoying some much needed relaxation time. He wasn’t really doing anything in particular, just laying in bed and listening to the same handful of songs on repeat. Everything was calm and peaceful, just like Koichi wanted.

So of course that’s when he gets a call from one of the most chaotic people in his life, Josuke.

When they first met, Josuke seemed similar to Koichi in the sense that he was relaxed and levelheaded, but as their friendship developed he realized that this was not the case. Koichi didn’t mind all that much though, it was nice to have a bit of spice in his life. Sometimes it was a bit too much, though.

He picked up the call after a few rings, a bit sad that his relaxation had been interrupted. But he tried to push that thought aside and let a smile grace his face. “Hey, what’s up?” He asked, sitting up and unplugging his headphones.

“Oh, not much. But could I ask you for a favor?” Koichi was intrigued by this, seeing as Josuke rarely ever asked for favors, causing his mind to run with possible circumstances.

“Sure! What do you need?” Koichi responded a bit too quickly, wanting to be a nice and reliable friend.

“Oh thank god, I was so worried that you’d say no. I want to order something online but we’re moving soon so I don’t want it to arrive at our old address, so could I ship it to your place? I’ll pay you a few hundred yen for the trouble,” Koichi’s face lit up at that. He could be a good friend and get paid at the same time? It sounded perfect, and Koichi couldn’t wait to help out.

“Absolutely! Just wondering though, what are you get-” Koichi started, but was cut off as Josuke hung up the call. He thought it was odd, but didn’t put too much thought into it. He sighed, laying back down and smiling.

A few weeks later, a package arrived at Koichi’s door. Despite the fact that it was addressed to ‘Koochie Horse’ he immediately assumed it was Josuke’s package. He still had no idea about the contents of it, having completely forgotten about it until a few moments ago. Although he knew that it was probably nosy to snoop through whatever Josuke had bought, curiosity got the best of him and he decided to open up the package. After all, it was probably just a new textbook or that new racing game he’d been talking about for a while.

Right?

Wrong.

The first thing innocent little Koichi saw upon opening the package was a small round container with the label ‘Gamer Girl Bath Water.’ He was confused to say the least and decided to take it out of the package, gasping quietly at the realization that it was in fact someone’s bathwater. Disgusted and disappointed at the same time, Koichi ran upstairs to give Josuke a call. He clicked on the contact as quickly as he could and eagerly waited for a response.

“Yo, what’s u-”

“The package came.”

“Wait I can explain-” Josuke pleaded, very obviously holding back a laugh. “I did it ironically, I don’t actually want someone’s bathwater. Well, unless it’s Okuyasu’s. But he’s not selling it anyway so it doesn’t really matter.”

“Josuke.. I..” Koichi paused for a minute to contemplate his life decisions that lead up to this moment, then continued. “I’m so disappointed in you. And I’m not even going to mention the last you wanting to buy Okuyasu’s bath water because that’s disgusting.” Koichi sighed, setting the accursed bath water on his nightstand.

“I don’t blame you. Even Oku was disappointed in me, and I’m pretty sure he subscribed to her Onlyfans.”

“That one wasn’t ironic, was it?” Koichi replied, his disappointment growing significantly as he realized that Okuyasu had paid for porn of a gamer girl.

“Nope.”

“I thought so.”

After the whole bath water incident, Koichi became much more wary of Josuke’s antics. So when he asked if he wanted to have a sleepover for the first time, he was pretty nervous. Not to say that he wasn’t excited, he was just anxious that he was going to somehow be pressured into buying someone’s bath water.

Luckily for Koichi, the night went completely normally at first. Well, as close to normally as you could ever get in Morioh. The three of them played a few different video games and talked about the serial killer running around the town, typical teenage stuff. It was only when Okuyasu started complaining that he was hungry did the mom friend in Koichi come out. The group walked to Josuke’s refrigerator after getting tired of Okuyasu’s complaining and collectively sighed as they saw the contents of it. There was a whole watermelon, a few eggs, and a singular slice of cheese. Just as Okuyasu suggested eating the watermelon whole, the group noticed something else on a lower shelf of the refrigerator. It was a small container of cookie dough from Kame Yu. It caused the three of them to gasp in excitement, but for different reasons. Josuke and Okuyasu, like most people, were planning to eat the cookie dough raw and then regret that decision when their stomachs were screaming in pain. Koichi, however, was planning to actually make the cookies. There should be enough dough to make at least one cookie for everyone, so that was the obvious way to go about things in his mind. He grabbed the container and took a quick glance at the back of it, which earned a confused look from the two idiots.

“Oi Koichi, you’re not going to actually bake those, right?” Josuke asked, bewildered at the idea that anyone would waste perfectly good cookie dough by cooking it.

“Of course I’m going to bake it.. that’s what you do with cookie dough?” Koichi replied, incredibly confused. Unless they were going to shove it up their asses (which he wouldn’t put past them) he couldn’t think of a reason why they wouldn’t want him to bake the cookies. And then it hit him. “Wait, were you guys planning to eat it raw?” Koichi asked, the disappointment he was feeling evident in his voice.

“Well duh. Besides, that shit is too complicated anyway,” Okuyasu muttered, looking at Josuke for a split second to make sure that he wasn’t the only insane one.

“Okuyasu you literally just put it in the oven. It’s not that complicated. Also it says DO NOT EAT RAW in massive lettering,” Koichi said, gesturing towards the comic sans warning on the front of the container.

“Koichi you’re not even tall enough to reach the pan you need to put the cookies in. Plus they’ll take like 20 minutes to bake and if I have to listen to Okuyasu complain about how hungry he is one more time then I’m going to explode.” Josuke replied, stealing the container from Koichi and opening it up. “Oh wow, there’s more in here than I thought. There’s probably enough for you to make a few cookies and for us to have some of it if you still want to make them.”

Koichi shook his head at first, but began to think about it more and more. He was getting hungry as well and didn’t feel like eating an entire watermelon so this was really his only option. Besides, he would have the opportunity to prove that he wasn’t insane and that cookie dough was better when made into actual cookies. Koichi took the container back from Josuke’s hand and carefully scooped out 5 balls of dough with a spoon that was laying on the counter. In retrospect he probably should have washed the spoon first, but he didn’t dwell on it for long. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you when you both end up with stomach aches.” Koichi warned as he handed the now halfway empty container of cookie dough back to the idiots. They ran back to Josuke’s room quickly and left Koichi to bake his cookies in peace. The first thing he needed to do was find a pan to cook them in, which proved difficult. He searched through almost every cabinet and drawer in his kitchen, only to find nothing but old cook books and cookie sheets. (which he also needed but not as much as the actual pan) Just as he was about to admit defeat, he noticed two more cabinets far above the oven that he was nowhere near tall enough to reach.

Shit.

Getting Josuke or Okuyasu to help wasn’t an option because he was NOT going to deal with the months of teasing that would result from it, so he had to improvise. He felt bad snooping around Josuke’s house, but he didn’t really have any other option. Koichi started by looking in his living room, and while he didn’t find any stools he did find a half asleep Tomoko next to an empty bottle of wine and a porno magazine. While that was interesting it wasn’t what he needed, so he kept looking. Eventually he found a sturdy looking chair and figured that would work as a stool. Luckily it did, and he was able to actually start making the cookies. He’s familiar with the Kame Yu brand of cookie dough, so it didn’t take him long at all to get them in the proper shape and size. Double checking the time and temperature, he put the tray into Josuke’s oven and waited. He considered going back to talk the two idiots but decided against it after hearing one of them scream “JUST BECAUSE I PUT SOMETHING IN MY ASS ONCE DOESN’T MEAN I’M GAY!” It caused Tomoko to stir a little bit, and that worried Koichi too much to leave the kitchen.

After about 10 minutes of staring at the oven it finally beeped, signaling that the cookies were done. As Koichi opened the oven he smiled widely. They turned out perfectly; they were just the right size and they were the perfect shade of golden brown. They still needed to cool off though, but Koichi didn’t feel like waiting any longer. Besides, he could just wait for them to cool off while he was rubbing them in Josuke and Okuyasu’s faces. Carefully using an oven mitt to move them onto a plate, Koichi took a whiff of the cookies and smiled. This was certainly better than raw cookie dough. Once they were all onto a plate Koichi excitedly walked back to Josuke’s room. The heat from the still warm cookies burned his palms a bit, but he didn’t mind all that much. After all, he’d been through a lot worse than a bit of a burn. “See guys! I told you that they’re better this w-” Koichi cut himself off as he noticed that Okuyasu and Josuke were laying on the floor, cuddled up next to each other and moaning. To Koichi’s immediate relief they were in fact not fucking each other, but they’d eaten so much cookie dough that it was too painful to move.

“Hhhhhhhgggg…. this was a bad idea…” Josuke whined, looking up at Koichi’s cookies with puppy dog eyes. “Can I have one? Please?” He said as Koichi looked away as quickly as possible. Josuke was hard to say no to normally, let alone with puppy dog eyes. He couldn’t help but look back after a few seconds, and by then he was making desperate grabby hands.

“Sure, just take one though. But if you would’ve listened to me from the start then we’d have a lot more cookies and you both wouldn’t be in so much pain right now.” Koichi smiled as he realized that he’d won their little feud. He sat down next to Josuke and set the plate down next to him, sighing quietly in relief at the fact that his hands weren’t burning anymore.

“Yeah whatever.. thanks though, these look delicious,” Josuke mumbled as both he and Okuyasu reached for a cookie. It was only then that Koichi remembered something he probably should have mentioned a while ago.

“WAIT DON’T TOUCH THEM YET THEY’RE STILL BUR-”

“OW KOICHI WHAT THE FUCK???”

“..ning”

Koichi is a good child. He never snuck out, never skipped school, never cheated on tests, and never even considered doing things that Josuke and Okuyasu did on a daily basis.

He’s also very compassionate and worries for other people more than himself a lot of the time.

Coupling these two things together, to say that Koichi was concerned that Josuke had been gone from school for the past week was a massive understatement. He kept saying that it was ‘just a cold’ and that he ‘felt mostly fine,’ but Koichi didn’t believe his words. He was incredibly worried about Josuke’s health, especially with all of the Stand users that were roaming around the town. The possibility that Josuke was attacked by a disease giving Stand was incredibly low, but it still worried Koichi a ton. Okuyasu didn’t seem to be anywhere near as worried, which confused him completely. He’d been gone for an entire school week, obviously something was wrong. He made sure to call Josuke every night and make sure he was okay, but those phone calls didn’t seem to alleviate his concerns in the slightest. He always seemed so sick and in pain during them that it made Koichi’s own throat start to hurt. So after the 5th day in a row of him being gone, Koichi made a decision. He decided that he would go to Kame Yu after school to buy a few things and then visit Josuke in hopes to make him feel a bit better.

The school day went by normally like usual except for the fact that Josuke was absent once again. Rumors were starting to spread like wildfire about his absence, something that made Koichi even more worried for his friend.

He went to Kame Yu immediately after school, texting his mom a short message explaining that he’d be gone for a little while. He didn’t have an exact list of things he wanted to buy, he only had a handful of general ideas in mind. He started by grabbing some donuts and a slice of cheesecake from the bakery section of the store, two things he’d recently learned were some of Josuke’s favorites. After that he looked for some medicine to at the very least help with his pain. Koichi didn’t know what type of illness Josuke had, so he picked out a few general cough medicines like Tylenol and DayQuil. Lastly he went over to the junk food area of the store and grabbed a few miscellaneous things like chips and chocolate bars. The total only came to about two thousand yen, which Koichi didn’t mind paying in the slightest. Besides, Josuke had given him a cut of his lottery winnings a week prior so this was a good way to repay him somewhat.

As he walked down the street to visit the ‘sick’ boy, Koichi contemplated calling Josuke to let him know about his arrival. He decided against it after a while though, remembering the few times he’d come over without a notice. He knocked on the door and waited patiently for a response. It took a lot longer than he expected, sparking worry in Koichi that he’d interrupted Tomoko while she was busy. He sighed in relief as someone opened the door, but looked up in a bit of confusion as Josuke opened the door instead. “Oh hi Koichi, what are you doing here? I’m glad you showed up though, I was getting pretty bored. Come on in, my room’s a bit messy though,” he chuckled as he motioned for Koichi to come inside. Koichi was thoroughly confused. He didn’t sound sick at all, and he didn’t even mention his illness. And why was he holding his Switch, he always said it was ‘the reason he was having homosexual thoughts’ for some reason? All of these concerns seemed to be answered immediately as Josuke started to speak once again. “Shit, you still think that I was sick right? Oops.” Josuke laughed nervously as he looked down.

“Wait you’re not? Then why have you been missing school for so long? Is everything okay?” He asked as he followed Josuke upstairs and to his room. He set the bags of medicine and junk food down next to his bed and gave Josuke another confused look.

“Okay Koichi you’re going to think that I’m insane and I don’t really blame you but I’ve started a business. And I faked an illness so that I can stay home for a couple days and keep on top of all of my customers and orders. Also what’s in the bags?” Not once did Josuke look up from his Switch during this interaction, as he was too busy trying to farm for popular villagers. “Okay so here’s the idea. I get Nook Miles tickets from playing the game. I use the tickets to farm for rare villagers. I search for Raymond specifically. I get Raymond. I sell Raymond on EBay for 6,000¥. I use a portion of that to buy more Nook Miles Tickets and then the cycle continues until I’m rich.”

Koichi burst out with laughter at both the ridiculous idea and the completely serious look on Josuke’s face while telling him about it. He couldn’t help himself. Buying Animal Crossing villagers? Who would do that? His ‘business’ venture didn’t change the fact that he skipped school to work on it though, and Koichi’s laughter quickly turned into disappointed silence as he remembered. “Yeah but you still skipped an entire week of school to do this though.. I was really worried about you.. That’s why I came over here, I brought you medicine and some food to help you feel better,” Koichi muttered, feeling a bit dumb for not even considering the possibility that he’d just been skipping school.

“Oh my god that’s why you came over? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you worried! I’ll give you a cut of the Animal Crossing money for making you panic and for going out of your way to get all of this stuff for me. I really appreciate it,” Josuke said, still not looking up from his Switch. “I thought I was only going to be gone for a day so I just said I was sick and then my business exploded and I just had to keep going along with it an- GODDAMNIT LEOPOLD NOBODY LIKES YOU YOU DUMB SHIT!”

“Oh it’s fine, I’m just glad you’re okay. How’d you manage to convince your mom that you were sick for an entire week though? And thanks but it’s alright, you can keep the 2¥ you’re going to make from your ‘business.’ Koichi looked over at Josuke’s Switch to find what he was so angry about only to be greeted by an adorable looking lion with green hair and glasses. Why was he so angry?

“Oh you laugh Koichi but I’ve already made over 200,000¥. These people are so desperate for these fake animals it’s insane. Also my mom’s away on some sort of business trip thing. I’m definitely gonna get my ass beat when she gets home but-Oh thank god it’s someone I can actually sell for once.” Josuke smiled softly as Koichi looked over once again to see a cat that looked like an orange. Adorable! Though he didn’t know what made it different from the lion that made Josuke so angry. “Anyways, you can have some of the animal crossing money for all the trouble you went through. Is 10,000¥ fair? I really don’t know what to do with all of this money to be honest.”

That was the first time that Koichi realized that Josuke wasn’t joking or lying and that he’d actually made a huge profit by selling animal crossing villagers. And he’d be getting a cut from it too? Not just a few hundred yen either, 10,000.

“10,000¥? That’s a lot, are you sure? I mean it really wasn’t that much trouble and I..”

“Shut up and take the money Koichi. You can have it as long as I can still have the food you brought me.” Josuke finally looked up from his Switch to look into the bags of stuff Koichi had brought and happily gasped. “Woah is that cheesecake? You’re the best!”

Suddenly the week Koichi spent worrying about his friend didn’t seem to matter as much.

Nothing ever stays calm in Morioh.

That’s something that Koichi had learned over the summer.

So when he was having a relaxing and chill day, he really should have expected something to go wrong. That ‘something’ was a frantic call from Josuke some time in the evening. Of course that itself wouldn’t be an issue, but the subject matter certainly was. Excited to take a call from his best friend, Koichi set down the book he was reading and eagerly picked it up. “Hi Josuke, what’s u-”

“HE FORGOT THE BABY!” Josuke yelled into the microphone, causing Koichi to panic a bit.

“WHAT?” Koichi yelled back, holding the phone further away from his ear because of how loud Josuke was being.

“HE FORGOT THE BABY!!”

“Josuke you're going to need to explain,” Koichi said, hoping that it was a joke of some sort.

“Okay so you know how my dad left yesterday?”

“Ye-”

“WELL HE FORGOT THE BABY!!” Josuke yelled once again, the distress he was feeling very evident in his voice. Koichi knew this must’ve been somewhat legitimate considering Josuke was a terrible actor.

“Josuke I….. what baby? There’s a baby?” Koichi asked with just as much confusion in his voice as distress in Josuke’s.

“Oh my god I never told you about the baby!! So like two months ago when my old man first got here we found an invisible baby and we named her Shizuka and he was supposed to take her with him but he didn’t and now I have a baby to take care of and I don’t know what to do and I-” Josuke rambled frantically, holding Shizuka in one arm and his phone in the other.

“Okay calm down, I’m sure everything will be fine. Maybe just tell your mother that he left the baby and she can call him up? I’m sure he wouldn't mind buying another boat ticket.” Koichi replied calmly before realizing something. “Wait, she’s invisible? How did you find her then? Is she a Stand user?”

“I mean, probably? All I know is that there is a crying baby in my arms and if it keeps crying it’s going to turn my arms invisible and I kind of need to see those. And my mother definitely won’t believe that my dad left an invisible baby here. Besides I’m pretty sure she’ll start breaking down if I even mention him.” Josuke sighed, gently rocking Shizuka back and forth. Or at least what he thought was gently.

“Wait, she turns things around her invisible too? Oh god that can’t be good. Try and figure out why she’s crying and then take care of it. I can probably come over and help you if you want, I have a little bit of experience babysitting. But you should probably find a way to contact your dad so that we don’t have to deal with an invisible baby forever.” Koichi’s motherly instincts were becoming more and more apparent now that there was an actual baby involved, especially considering he didn’t trust Josuke to handle a baby all by himself.

“I think she’s tired but she won’t go to sleep. I have her some NyQuil but I think that just made it wor-”

“You gave the BABY NyQuil??? Okay I’m coming over to your house because I do NOT trust you with this baby.” Koichi was so incredibly worried for the well being of the poor baby at this point.

“I mean yeah.. now that I think about it that was probably a bad idea. And please do, it’s been crying for like 20 minutes,” Josuke pleaded, causing Koichi to hang up the call and get ready to leave the house as soon as possible. It also didn’t help his worries that Josuke referred to the baby as ‘it.’ After somehow convincing his mother that he was going over to Josuke’s house to study, he practically ran out the door to make sure Josuke hadn’t murdered the baby already. He knocked on the door frantically and was created by a confused yet excited Tomoko who had no idea about the situation unfolding upstairs. Tomoko started to have a conversation with Koichi, which although he appreciated it, was the opposite of what he wanted to do right now. He tried to rush it as much as possible without seeming rude, and practically ran upstairs once it was over with. He opened the door a bit too quickly, causing Shizuka to stir a bit and start crying louder. That wasn’t his biggest concern though; his biggest concern was the fact that Josuke had given the baby to Crazy Diamond and Crazy Diamond was rocking the baby with way more force than necessary. “Oh thank god you’re here, it’s crying and I don’t know what to do.”

“Just.. just give me the baby. Also you better be paying me for this,” Koichi mumbled as he took the baby out of Crazy Diamond’s arms. He tensed up for a second before remembering how he used to rock the babies he had to babysit. All of his attention was on carefully rocking Shizuka back and forth, and it seemed to calm her down a lot. Although the makeup on her face had heavily faded Koichi could still make out her expression, and she seemed to be a bit happy. She was still crying though, and Koichi could tell she needed something. “Have you fed her today? That might be why she’s crying,” Koichi asked, looking up at Josuke with a slight frown. This night was going to be fun.

“I fed her a little bit earlier but then she vomited all over me and started screaming again. But that’s a good idea, I’ll go get some food for her.” Koichi was very worried about whatever Josuke was about to bring as food for Shizuka, but he didn’t feel like asking. After all he couldn’t be that stupid, right? Well he did try to give her NyQuil so I guess he could be that stupid. He continued gently rocking Shizuka, making sure to maintain a gentle yet steady rhythm. The smile on her face led to a smile on Koichi’s face, which was only helped when she gently grabbed onto Koichi’s sweater. He had no idea why he was so good with kids considering he only babysat a handful of times, all he knew is that he was thankful for it. As he heard the door open Koichi prepared for disappointment but was pleasantly surprised when Josuke brought up actual baby food, a few napkins, and a bottle full of a red liquid of some sort. “We don’t have milk but I read somewhere that you can give babies fruit juice as long as they’re over a month old. Hopefully it’s fruit juice anyway, it didn’t have a label on it. Oh and I brought some napkins in case she throws up again,” Josuke said as he sat down on the bed next to Koichi.

Koichi was more than willing to take the small risk that he was feeding her blood to make sure that Shizuka had something to drink. Everything was going well… too well. But he tried not to think about that. “Oh wow, thank you so much! I was half expecting you to bring me like wine or something,” Koichi replied, wishing that he was joking. He took the bottle from Josuke’s hands and shifted the way he held Shizuka slightly so that he could feed her more easily. Koichi slowly handed her the bottle, which caused her eyes to light up and for her to immediately start drinking. Thinking he did something right, Koichi smiled and looked up at Josuke before hearing sounds of vomiting and seeing bits of red splattered all over his sweatshirt. Goddamnit. As he reached up to grab some of the napkins that Josuke had brought, Koichi realized that he was laughing way, way harder than he should’ve been. “Hey shut up, at least I’m actually taking care of your baby,” Koichi mumbled as he took the napkins and cleaned the spit up off of his hoodie. After that was taken care of he grabbed the container of baby food and opened it up, relieved to see that it had a small spoon on the side of it so he didn’t have to make Josuke run more errands for him. He opened up the container way more carefully then he needed to and grabbed a spoonful of the yellow mush. To Koichi’s relief Shizuka eagerly ate every spoonful she was given and didn’t throw it up this time. She got through the entire container of baby food relatively quickly and it made Koichi feel incredibly accomplished. She also wasn’t crying anymore and had a huge adorable smile stretched out across her face, so it was clear that her hunger was the reason she was upset. Shizuka once again clung to Koichi’s (now stained with red) sweatshirt and mumbled something incoherent. He figured this meant that she was tired so he glanced around Josuke’s room for a blanket, but what happened next was certainly not what he was expecting.

“Mama!!” She said between small fits of giggles, her grip on Koichi tightening slightly. He gasped with both excitement and confusion as Josuke started going hysterical. “Mmaama!” She cooed once again, making as close to eye contact as someone invisible could make with Koichi.

“W- I- has she ever spoken before this??” Koichi asked frantically as he realized that he was now the mother of an invisible baby that he met 15 minutes ago. Though thinking about it more he didn’t really mind it for the time being.

“No she hasn’t! She’s never even called me that and I’ve had that thing for way longer. Bitch.” Josuke clearly looked angry about this and it made Koichi laugh a bit.

“Well I didn’t give her NyQuil and actually fed her. Maybe if you take her for a bit she’ll warm up to you.” He attempted to pry Shizuka’s hands off of his sweatshirt which proved to be way more difficult than he thought. Once he did though, she seemed to go into Josuke’s arms with ease. Josuke’s eyes lit up as the baby was shifted into his hands, panicking a bit before remembering the rhythm that Koichi had kept while rocking her. He did that for quite some time until Shizuka seemed just as comfortable and happy as she was in her ‘mom’s’ arms. After a while, her eyes closed and she started to drift off to sleep. “M..ama..” she mumbled softly as she snuggled closer into Josuke’s arms. He tried his very best to hold back a laugh so he wouldn’t wake her up, but he couldn’t help it. Luckily Shizuka seemed to be a heavy sleeper and it didn’t bother her too much.

“Ha, we’re both her moms! That’s gay,” Josuke said with far too much laughter following it. Koichi sighed once again, something he’d been accustomed to during his friendship with Josuke.

“Yeah shut up, let’s find a place to keep while she sleeps.” Koichi’s eyes darted around Josuke’s room to find somewhere to keep her, eventually landing on a small basket in the corner. It wouldn’t be the most comfortable thing, but they didn’t have many other options. He put one of Josuke’s pillows into the basket along with a towel for a blanket and motioned for him to put Shizuka in it. He did, (actually being gentle for once) and she subconsciously snuggled up against the pillow. As they shared a relieved and happy glance with each other, they started to think about what else they should do considering it was only about 6pm.

“Wanna play F-Mega? I just unlocked some secret tracks?”

“Sure!”

Being a lesbian mother to an invisible baby was certainly not the way Koichi expected the summer to end, but he should have known that nothing is expected in Morioh.

#part 4 josuke #koichi #okuyasu #duwang gang #fic #jjba #dumb shit #someone please read this #jjba part 4 #diu

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makeste · 5 years ago

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BnHA Vigilantes Chapters 59 - 65: Emergency Catch-Up Blog

before I start, please be advised that the following post will contain a potential MAJOR SPOILER FOR CHAPTER 253, which has not yet been released! please don’t be an idiot like me and spoil yourselves, guys. stay safe.

but anyways yes, this is my recap post for Those Chapters of Vigilantes. at long last. hooray! by the way this is barely edited at all, on account of it being a rush job (see re: the “Emergency” bit in the header). just some raw, unfiltered, [CENSORED SPOILER THING] thoughts and feelings! hopefully it’s readable; when I have more time I’ll try and clean it up a bit more.

so now, first off, credit where credit is due because omg

bless you anon, you saved my life

but let me backtrack! looool so guys, I did a dumb thing and peeked at a spoiler, and read the name “Shirakumo”, and was like FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK and noped out, but it was too late lol. so then I was like “HOW DO I CATCH UP ON THE ENTIRETY OF VIGILANTES IN LESS THAN TWENTY-FOUR HOURS”, fully aware that I probably wasn’t going to do shit and would most likely just spend tomorrow apologizing and shrugging my way through the new chapter. and by the way guys, I’ll go ahead and throw in one of those apologies now, because I’ve had at least a dozen anons implore me to pick up Vigilantes, and I’m fully aware that Aizawa’s past has been covered (including one (1) cloudy boi), and that it’s really good. I just haven’t had the energy to do it! because reading and liveblogging are two very different things, and the latter just takes so much more time and energy honestly. so I kept putting it off and off and off, and now here I am

but then this ask came along telling me exactly which chapters to read in order to get the context I need! so seriously anon, you are the MVP of my week, and I appreciate this so, so much. I am now off to read those chapters, and I apologize to everyone again, but while I will liveblog them, it’ll probably be kind of a rush job due to the circumstances. like I won’t get into every single detail here, because it’s six whole chapters. but I’ll do my best

hmm I don’t know what constitutes the second half of chapter 59 lol so here I am reading the whole damn thing

AIZAWA BEING FRIENDS WITH MIDNIGHT, AND MIDNIGHT HAS A CAT OH GOSH

looool

personally, Aizawa hated school. he would never ever dream of becoming a teacher. how ridiculous. irrational af

“we’ll have you teaching at U.A. soon enough” psssh. not this man, sister

he’s hanging up on her now. honestly I am glad I did not skip the first part of this chapter lol

some wolfman is chasing the protag of this series whose name I forgot, as well as a little girl and ANOTHER CAT. this series has so many cats?! apparently!?

Aizawa is saving the cat. the hero we deserve

the protag whose name I am about to look up wants to adopt the cat, which prompts Aizawa to launch into a 2500-word essay on why he should not adopt the cat

okay the kid’s name is Koichi. he’s apparently 19 in the series, but I don’t know how old he is in this particular scene though because I have the vague impression that the series at large takes place in present-day BnHA time, which would mean this is definitely a flashback. so. ??

OHO, NOW IT’S A FLASHBACK WITHIN A FLASHBACK!!? so this is the Aizawa past thing everyone’s been all “!!!!” about. well here you go guys

young Shouta is staring at an abandoned kitty in a box in the rain

he left the cat, but also left his umbrella over it, awww

and he arrived at class all wet. and his teacher says he can go change his clothes, but he’s all “NAH I’M EMO SO I’LL JUST STAY LIKE THIS”, wow

“I’m powerless” jesus christ Shou get a grip

here comes Present Mic to forcibly lift his best bud’s spirits. they’re in second year apparently

Present Mic, and I mean this in the most loving and affectionate way possible, is the most annoying man on the planet

how was he not just constantly punched in the face at all times. like constantly walking around being punched by people

well well well

something horrible is sure going to happen to you, isn’t it? here I thought you were probably dead, but I’m kinda getting the inkling [SPOILERS, FOLKS, I’M SERIOUS] you’re gonna maybe show up in the latest chapter of the main series, so I guess not! congratulations I guess?? OR MAYBE NOT

“dammit Shirakumo” oh so it’s like that

their teacher deserves a raise. never thought we’d see another U.A. faculty member more done with life than Aizawa himself

hey Shirakumo is giving Shouta his umbrella back, but what about the cat?! SHIRAKUMO ARE YOU REALLY A NICE GUY, I’M NOT SURE YET

meanwhile he’s stripping naked in the middle of class. oh yes. I forgot Vigilantes was like this

he’s using his cloud quirk to censor himself where it counts

“and inside this cloud... is this charming little creature” lol we think he’s talking about his penis but then he pulls out the cat! WELL NEVER MIND THEN SHIRAKUMO

so Shouta is sitting around thinking emo thoughts that are gradually giving way to some decidedly un-hetero thoughts about Shirakumo, who’s doing that shounen thing where he smiles with his eyes closed while being silhouetted against the bright sun. maaaaan. Aizawa you are hella gay my dude

okay next chapter and they’re being assigned internships

Shirakumo’s hero costume is... well let’s just say it’s a good thing he’s got such a badass quirk

he’s riding around on that cloud like Goku. like a fucking Lakitu from Super Mario

now the teachers are talking about the three boys and whether they’ll be able to land internships

“Yamada shouldn’t have a problem. his voice quirk has applications in battle, rescue, and entertainment. but the boy’s a bit distractible.” okay first of all how the hell would Mic ever rescue a person with his quirk. fucking scream them to safety or what. and second, by distractible you mean punchable right. again, all the love

oh my god he’s so cute

lmao this is seriously my favorite picture of Aizawa ever. GO GETTEM SLUGGER

so Shouta is getting bullied by some guy with a decidedly Katsuki-ish quirk, except he shoots jets of fire out of his hands. but anyway he says that fighting Shouta is boring. SHUT UP, YOU. YOU’RE BORING

Shouta is so emo. but he really does want to be a good hero, he just doesn’t know how. he seems very frustrated

he’s lecturing Kumo on not giving people-food to the cat. and now he has picked up the cat and is cradling and bottle-feeding it like an infant. bless

this manga really has a gag panel of the cat pissing on Shirakumo afterwards, like. see this is another reason why I haven’t exactly been in a rush to read it sob. my sense of humor doesn’t really seem to align with Furuhashi’s

oH MY GOD

high school Midnight is the coolest person I have ever seen and I want to be just like her when I grow up

aaaaand she is literally not wearing any clothes except that belt and those boob-holsters. which, I mean, it’s not like she really dresses any differently in the main series, but this being Vigilantes, I’m sure we’ll get another half a dozen pages showing extreme close-ups of her costume from various angles. again, another area where this series and I don’t quite see eye to eye, but it’s all right since we’re just passing through here

and one year later they wrote a literal law limiting how much exposed skin a hero costume can show. oh Midnight. meanwhile I forgot how much this series makes me appreciate Horikoshi, flaws and all. I’ll take a thousand Minetas over this shit honestly. at least Mineta always gets his comeuppance. but anyway

they have named the cat “Sushi”

Midnight is straight up taking the cat lmao

Yamada got an internship. one down, two to go

Midnight’s back and showing them a video of the cat pooping. one joke about the cat’s bathroom habits in a single chapter was not enough, we’re going for two. not like we have anything more important to cover, like Aizawa getting an internship and something terrible and tragic happening to his boyfriend. let’s just keep talking about cat poop

okay here we go, Midnight says her boss will take them as interns

“Loud Cloud” lmao. home run hero name. GOAT

so Shouta’s chasing a villain and nearly got crushed by a safe that he threw at him, but he’s being saved by some guy who I’m guessing is his boss

oh my

this is the kind of weirdness that only a manga can get away with. I wonder how this idea came into being and whose idea it was, Horikoshi’s or Furuhashi’s. maybe the two of them hitting each other up back and forth in a text chain. “so I’m doing Aizawa’s flashback now, who do you want to have him to intern under?” “hmm I don’t know but I was thinking literally Prince”

Prince is chewing Shouta out something fierce

I thought I was prepared for these Aizawa flashbacks, but some things you can never be prepared for

lol he asked Shouta how he fucked up, and Shouta started listing all of his tactical errors, and Prince interrupted him and is all “I’M TALKIN’ ‘BOUT THAT GLOOMY FACE” listen son just who do you think your intern is. THAT’S JUST HIS FACE LEAVE HIM ALONE

he says Aizawa wears his stress all over his sleeve and bums people out

he’s telling him to smile! now where have we heard that philosophy before

hello

I’m just reblogging this panel because of reasons

so Shouta is sulking in the locker room, and Shirakumo is showering off and says his MO is to keep smiling even when he screws up

now Midnight is texting Shouta 500 cat pictures

lmao we can’t see Shouta’s face, but Kumo is streaking in and is all “THERE’S THAT SMILE, SUNSHINE!!!!”

OH SHIT NOW IT’S A FEW DAYS LATER AND THE VILLAIN IS BACK BUT THIS TIME SHOUTA DONE GOT HIM SOME GOGGLES!! the path from adorable to sexy begins. the Longbottoming

oh shit the goggles belong to Shirakumo. the gayening. and they were roommates

Shouta’s using his quirk!

and the bad guy is all “I don’t need my quirk to crush you” and straight up demolishing the fucking pavement yikes

and Kumo is leaping at him from above and whomping him on the head

yay they caught him. and Shouta is...

he’s trying. they’ll coax a real smile out of him yet! just show him a Youtube compilation of Logical Ruses

now he and Shirakumo have matching pairs of goggles. I’m just gonna assume this means they are married

the fire hands bully guy from earlier is coming over to start some shit again

he says he also realized the importance of eye protection through his internship. and Mic says he stole the idea from him

now the class is partnering off for two-on-two battle training, and Kumo is partnering with Shouta

they’re going up against Mic and Fire Hands, and for some reason they’re making a wager of it. whoever loses has to stop wearing glasses. this is easily the stupidest thing I have seen in this series yet, not to mention the most accurate

Kumo’s grinning at Shouta and saying the goggles symbolize their friendship and they have to defend them. you know, lovable scamp stuff

now Shirakumo and Shouta are double teaming the Fire Hands guy and taking him out in seconds because OF COURSE THEY DID. lol he never fucking stood a chance

but Shouta’s handing the glasses back and says that two-on-one isn’t fair so he’s calling the wager off

aaaand Fire Hands is snatching them back and stomping on them. and says he doesn’t need them

listen you dingus, yes you do fucking need them. and also he says he didn’t lose! wow this guy really has his head up his ass. I’d say he reminds me of a CERTAIN SOMEONE, but you know what, I’ll give Mr. Certain Someone his fair credit though, because he managed to get his shit together long before his second year. Fire Hands still needs to grow up

the teacher is telling him he missed the point of the exercise, and FH is literally ignoring him and running off wow

apparently Mic also gave up his sunglasses and got himself a pair of goggles. well we know that’s not gonna last. and for that matter, Shouta’s gonna change out his goggles for a different model as well. ohhhhh some tragedy is on the horizon I just know it, this is gonna hurt

Shirakumo says the three of them should start their own agency. ahhh. buddy I’m here reading this from the future, and I gotta tell you, son... shit’s awkward as fuck

and he’s pointing out all the different ways they complement each other’s strengths and weaknesses

Shouta says he can’t do anything on his own, but Kumo says that just means he’s suited to teamwork

Kumo’s inviting Midnight to join them, but she’s declining lol

Shouta’s looking at the sky all dramatically. oh baby this is it isn’t it. things are about to get rough

“one week later”

NOO THEY HURT MY PRECIOUS PRINCE

SOMEONE IS CALLING FOR BACKUP AND THE CAMERA IS ZOOMING IN ON A BUSTED UP PAIR OF GOGGLES, FUCK EVERYTHING

now we’re cutting to Mic and Fire Hands and FH replaced his sunglasses with a pair of goggles. goggles are just the in thing now

Fire Hands talks about Aizawa so much I’m starting to ship the two of them now as well. damn Shouta how many high school boyfriends did you have??

so they’re fighting off some toad monster and it’s absorbing all their attacks

meanwhile Shouta and Kumo are literally helping kindergartners to cross the street

look at this

it’s beyond my comprehension how anyone could possibly mistake this man for anything but a future teacher

even Kumo is commenting on how natural he is at working with kids

oH MY GOD the kids waved goodbye and said “bye Eraserhead” and it prompted a little smile

Kumo says Shouta psychs himself out and convinces himself he can’t do stuff, but really he can do just about anything if he puts his mind to it. aww. and he’s right!!

oh shit here comes the toad

so this toad’s name is Garvey, and he’s literally wanted for murder oh shit. and he has a Fatgum-like quirk that can absorb attacks and store them up to release them

and some idiots hit him with a combined attack that ended up powering him the fuck up. well shit

so Prince is placing a rose in between his teeth and getting ready to fight this toad off. do it I believe in you

now a lot is happening all at once, jesus. Shouta and Kumo were trying to evacuate the kids but then the toad just appeared right there like wtf, and then Prince also showed up out of nowhere and went to hit the thing with a flying jump kick

aaaand he’s getting blasted into a building

oof. and getting even further blasted now. welp

Kumo’s protecting the kiddos with his Nimbus quirk!

OH FUCKING SHIT AND THEN HE GOT CRACKED IN THE HEAD BY A GIANT FALLING ROCK

is this bitch fucking dead now. I can’t believe they fucking Obitoed my bro Shirakumo

so now the toad is looming over them, and Shouta realizes he’s the only one left standing, and all his doubts are filtering into his mind as he desperately tries to think of how to stop him

and Shirakumo’s... gourd... thing... is klunking in out of nowhere, and it has a little speaker on it, and it’s all “YOU GOT THIS AIZAWA” and wtf. this is like something out of a weird fever dream

OH SHIT BOYS AIZAWA SHOUTA DONE GOT HIS GAME FACE ON NOW

THE LONGBOTTOMING CONTINUES

so now he’s leaping fifty feet into the air, somehow, and thinking that his Erasure quirk will at least level the playing field. well all right then! you go boy

now it’s raining and of course bolts of lightning are dramatically hitting the ground all around them

Shouta’s kicking off the lil power toad lumps one by one lol

literally just jumping all around and kickin’ stuff

oof he took a bad hit. but he’s sitting back up!

Kumo’s disembodied gourd voice keeps shouting encouragement at him though, idk. so there’s that

he says Shouta’s strong and he won’t lose, and Shouta is all “RAHHHHHHH.” you guys, if 1-A ever found out about this flashback they would never let the man live it down. hell I’m not gonna let him live it down. okay then. Mr. RAHHHHHH

he’s doing some weird stuff with his capture weapon now. I think maybe he grabbed a rock with it and chucked it at the guy

and now the guy is shooting all his toad lumps at Shouta all at once! WELL ALL RIGHT THEN

yooooo Shouta literally grabbed them all with the capture weapon and he’s CHUCKIN’ EM ALL INTO THE DUDE’S MOUTH Y’ALL THIS IS SOME REAL FUCKING SHIT LMAO GET WRECKED

so the guy is blowing up from the inside out. yeah that’s what you get for murdering Shouta’s childhood friend you piece of shit

and Shouta’s collapsing in exhaustion but happily shouting “SHIRAKUMO I DID IT” before he passes out. oh my god don’t tell me Kumo is already dead and Shouta just hallucinated his voice or some shit. THEN WHO WAS GOURD omg

oooooof here we go

[places both hands on Shouta’s shoulders and looks him dead in the eye] son I don’t know how to tell you this, but Shirakumo has been dead for twenty years

wow can someone just fucking tell Shouta already so he stops depressing everyone and making an idiot out of himself. geez how long are you all gonna stand around despondently shooting knowing looks at each other in the rain

so they’re picking up the gourd speaker thing and OF COURSE it’s visibly broken and there’s no possible way Kumo’s voice could have been coming out of it. especially since he has been dead for twenty years. here’s a picture of his grave. oh shit what’s that little grave right next to his?? OH MY GOD IT’S THE CAT. OH MY GOD

oh fuck me

Y’ALL REALLY DID THESE BABIES LIKE THAT. HORIKOSHI!! FURUHASHI!! GET OVER HERE RIGHT NOW I WANT A WORD!!

so now Fire Hands, who is trying his best to be comforting but is just SO BAD AT IT, is all “Aizawa you went toe to toe with this thing and beat it YOURSELF!! ALL ALONE!!!” jesus christ I need a minute

OH DAMN A CALLBACK TO THE RAIN “THIS KINDA FITS OUR VIBE RIGHT NOW” LINE but now it’s saaaaaaaad oh no

I mean. I knew going in that this was going to be Aizawa’s sad childhood flashback about his friend Shirakumo whom something very terrible happened to. it’s not like I’m even surprised. I knew what I was getting myself into here. but damn that still hurts

do you guys think that having a permanent image of his best friend forever immortalized as a cheerful seventeen-year-old, and being forever haunted by the memory of that seventeen-year-old being cut down in the prime of his life, might have given Aizawa Shouta lasting trauma which carried over into his adulthood and makes him do desperately reckless things when children are at risk, such as leaping into battle against an army of villains all alone. dammit now I want to grab every single problem child of 1-A and shake them roughly and scream at them for all the sleepless nights they have doubtless caused this man

so now here he and Mic are both being sad

aww Mic. I’m sorry I keep wanting to punch you in the face. it’s just reflex

and now it’s one year later and the class is gearing up for the sports festival

well look who is almost fully done with his metamorphosis

you will soon be a beautiful butterfly

he is literally going to sleep in the middle of class. well depression makes people tired. sigh

he’s got his familiar goggles now! and he’s kicking FH’s ass and lecturing him on how to fight better. damn his character development is complete

and he’s helping FH to his feet aww. definitely boyfriends. this man gets around

his teachers now say that Shouta has gotten too complacent, if anything, and phones everything in once he knows he’s got a passing grade, and only gets passionate when it comes to practical exercises

and now we’re cutting to the gym and Shouta is indeed training passionately while Mic sits in the corner looking bummed. all these kids have been through far too much in their young lives

Shouta’s handing in his career aspiration form, and he wrote that he wants to start his own agency and focus on “fighting, and nothing else”

his scruffy facial hair is already starting to come in now. it’s true what they say, having a tragic past does indeed make you hotter

anyways but can we get this boy a hug!? anybody?? hello??!?

now they’re graduating and Shouta is disappearing in a poof of smoke and now there’s this big panel with flashbacks to his career up to the current point in Vigilantes!

and we’re back in the ~present~ and he’s telling Koichi to take good care of that cat. aaaand, I guess that’s that. geez. that was a lot

so there you go! the Aizawa flashbacks! they were very sad! all in all I really enjoyed them! so now, if Shirakumo isn’t actually dead (seeing as it’s a shounen manga that pays homage to comic books, so safe to say that People Not Actually Being Dead is a Certified Phenomenon, like it’s definitely a THING THAT CAN SOMETIMES HAPPEN), well then. tomorrow’s chapter is sure going to be interesting to say the least. lulz but maybe I’ve got it all wrong though. guess I’ll find out!

#bnha 253 #bnha vigilantes #aizawa shouta #yamada hizashi #shirakumo oboro #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha vigilantes spoilers #makeste reads bnha #makeste reads vigilantes #the real question is what the hell ever happened to this prince guy #I refuse to believe he just disappeared off the face of the earth #how is he not a top ten hero #probably because he got knocked out by the toad villain in like two seconds #and his sixteen-year-old intern had to save his fabulous behind #well hats off to a legend #wherever he is now

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justalittlelitnerd · 4 years ago

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What If It’s Us by Becky Albertalli and Adam Silvera

“I don’t know if we’re a love story or a story about love. But I know whatever we are that it’s great because we kept jumping through the hoops in the first place.”

I didn’t think this story could possibly be cuter than I expected to be but it was. It far surpassed my expectations with it’s quirky, insecure ensemble of characters and the story was written in a way that convinced me to accept such an open ending when usually that’s my biggest pet peeve.

Overall, this story is just a fun take on a whirlwind summer romance because it pulls in all the weird, slightly crazy aspects of modern dating like missed connections and the ease of internet stalking. It was exactly what I needed as a counterbalance to the dumpster fire that is 2020 and if you’re looking for that brief escape into a wholesome, awkward romance and story about first loves and second chances and the complexity of dating and friendships than I would highly recommend!

My only semi-complaint were the issues within Arthur, Jessie, and Ethan’s friendship could’ve been fleshed out more to do justice to the time the authors took to flesh out the side characters and their relationships with the main characters. I felt like that fight didn’t balance out the fight Ben had with Dylan because it was clear how that disagreement was building over the course of the summer. Also it felt too obvious that Jessie and Ethan were secretly dating and I was confused and unsatisfied by Ethan’s explanation that he didn’t text Arthur back the whole summer simply because it felt like lying and didn’t think twice about how ignoring Arthur (especially right after he came out) would make him feel. Also the whole time it made it seem like Arthur and Jessie were slightly closer and she had no qualms texting him and lying to him all summer and let’s just say I’m not as forgiving as Arthur was.

Let me know your thoughts!

Keep reading for some fun quotes I saved!

Normally, being an intern is more boring than terrible, but today’s uniquely shitty. You know that kind of day where the printer runs out of paper, and there’s none in the supply room, so you try to steal some from the copier, but you can’t get the drawer open, and then you push some wrong button and the copier starts beeping? And you’re standing there thinking that whoever invented copy machines is this close to getting their ass kicked? By you? By a five-foot-six Jewish kid with ADHD and the rage of a tornado? That kind of day? Yeah.

I believe in love at first sight. Fate, the universe, all of it. But not how you’re thinking. I don’t mean it in the our souls were split and you’re my other half forever and ever sort of way. I just think you’re meant to meet some people. I think the universe nudges them into your path.

Ex-boyfriend. Which means Box Boy dates guys. And okay. Wow. This doesn’t happen to me. It just doesn’t. But maybe the universe works differently in New York. Box Boy dates guys. I’M A GUY.

It’s weird—now I want to prove it. I want some gay ID card to whip out like a cop badge. Or I could demonstrate in other ways. God. I would happily demonstrate.

“On the sad scale, how are you feeling today?” Dylan asks. “Opening-montage-of-Up sad? Or Nemo’s-mom-dying sad?” “Whoa, no. Definitely not opening-montage-of-Up sad. That shit was devastating. I’d guess I’m somewhere in between, like last-five-minutes-of-Toy-Story-3 sad. I just need time to bounce back.”

“Let’s talk about why you really didn’t mail the breakup box,” Dylan says, like he’s going to bill me for this conversation. “Only if you drop the therapist voice,” I say. “Maybe we can begin with why my tone bothers you. Do I remind you of an authority figure?”

I’m certain that I’m 100 percent gay because if I was even 1 percent bisexual I would be crushing hard on Samantha for looks and high energy alone. Dylan watches Samantha as if she were glowing, and I wonder when I went dim for Hudson. If I ever really glowed for him at all.

“I would love to start my own app games. I have this one idea. It’s like Frogger, but instead of heavy-traffic streets, it takes place on the sidewalks of New York. You die if you get hit with someone’s shopping cart and you lose points if you cross a tourist’s path while they’re taking photos.

Emotional blue balls. That’s what it feels like. It’s being handed everything you’ve ever longed for, only for it to slip through your fingers. And there’s no way to fix it. Nothing you can do but slink toward the kitchen counter in a full-body mope.

"You’re not being fair to yourself,” Dylan says. “Maybe not. But I’m being honest.”

It’s this strangling fear that we’ll be sitting there and we’ll run out of something to say and I’ll be able to witness the exact moment someone falls out of love with me because I don’t have enough substance to keep a conversation alive over a meal. Why would you want to talk to me for the rest of your life?

But no. Not even close. Instead, it’s me bleeding out all my neuroses, looking for answers to questions I have no right to be asking. But I don’t know how to make myself stop asking them. People like me should come with a mute button.

I have only said one word on this call—a call I made—and I’m already ready to settle into another few hours of Arthur rambling. It’s better than my favorite Lorde and Lana Del Rey songs.

“You can sing a different song next time,” I say. I like that we’ll have a next time. That even though things have gone wrong, we’ve tried to make it right. “So I was nervous to admit this at karaoke, but—” “Please don’t tell me you’re actually a bunch of rats wearing a cute boy as a disguise.” “Worse.” I take a deep, dramatic breath. “I haven’t listened to Hamilton.” He doesn’t say anything. Then the line goes dead.

I tell him how I want to write Hamilton and Harry Potter crossover fanfiction and call it The Great American Fantasy Novel and stage all those duels in the dueling club and what houses I would sort everyone in.

“All history should be taught through rap by Lin-Manuel Miranda.”

“How lucky we are to be alive right now, right?” “Oh my god, you’re speaking Hamilton—I’m just so into you. I’m helpless.” I’m so into him too.

“For the most part, I think. But every city has its assholes.” I want to hug him, but he doesn’t want to be touched right now. Like any affection is going to become a target sign on our backs. Like we’ll get punished because our hearts are different.

But it’s just like the old posts on Instagram that I can’t get myself to just delete. Like Hudson never happened. Like he’s someone to be ashamed of. And throwing away the good memories feels like a slap in the face to our history. It has nothing to do with the future.

When the song ends, I’m ready to apologize. But Arthur takes my phone and looks up a cover of “Only Us” from Dear Evan Hansen, and he comes closer to me as he sings the words “So what if it’s us, what if it’s us, and only us.” This song is so beautiful. What it feels like to be wanted by someone who sees you for who you are. How the world—the business of Times Square—can feel like it’s falling away when you’re with the right person.

But maybe this isn’t how life works. Maybe it’s all about people coming into your life for a little while and you take what they give you and use it on your next friendship or relationship. And if you’re lucky, maybe some people pop back in after you thought they were gone for good.

Maybe I’m feeling masochistic. Or maybe I’ve unlocked the secret, and this is how people focus. All you have to do is have a cute boy rip your heart out, then let your best friends stomp all over it, and if it’s still beating even a little bit, finish the job yourself. Say the worst things and yell your voice raw and destroy everything you love until, lo and behold, the monotony of work is a relief.

I don’t know how to tell Hudson that I want to throw away a box of things that used to mean everything to me. But that fucking box. I can’t keep treating it like something that belongs in a museum’s exhibit specializing in one guy’s history of breaking hearts.

“Do not ask any what-if questions about you and Hudson dating again. That would probably end in literal heartbreak at the hands of someone pretty familiar with the law because of his summer internship but too reckless to care.”

It’s hard to be a fully functioning Arthur when your heart lives in four envelopes.

I can’t lose you forever. You can’t be someone I just knew for one summer. I have to know you every summer.

#what if it's us #Becky Albertalli #adam silvera #ya #young adult #summer romance #mlm #nyc #coming of age #friendship #books #book quotes #book blog #booklr #quotes #just some softbois falling in love during a summer in nyc #lots of hamilton references

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pastelgoogie97 · 4 years ago

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Wish You Were Gay ~jjk

Hey y’all! This is my first official post here on Tumblr, so I really hope you guys enjoy it!

Pairing: Jeongguk x Reader (f), Bestfriend!Jimin x Bestfriend!reader (f)

Genre: Angst, fluff

Friends To Lovers!

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Language, arguing, Jeongguk is oblivious and doesn’t know that you’ve had a crush on him for SO LONG, kind of slow burn???? But like not really??

I apologize if there’s any mistakes in the writing, I’ll probably go back and edit this post just in case i see something off, but i really hope you enjoy!

“How’d that date with that girl from last night go Jimin-ah?” Namjoon queried as Jimin looked up from his lap and smiled widely.

“It was so amazing! I really like her,” Jimin’s lips turned upward into a shy grin, his cheeks dusted with a tint of pink.

All of his band members smiled and started to tease him, making the boy giggle and wave them all off with his hand. Y/N giggled and sat back on the couch, looking at Jimin before she heard Jin speak.

“And you Y/N? Anyone caught your eye?”

Y/N snapped out of her hazy daze and looked up at Jin, her calm expression faltering into a slightly doleful one. She gave a weak smile towards Jin and then flashed her gaze towards his band member Jungkook quickly before looking back at him.

“Um, I-I like someone, but he-he doesn’t really like me,” Y/N admitted, looking down at her lap to play with her fingers nimbly.

“Well who is it? Maybe we can help you!” Jeongguk offered with his dashing smile, Y/N feeling her heart rip itself out of her chest at the sight of him.

“O-oh, no you don’t know him. It’s okay, thanks though!” Y/N tried to sound more cheerful to lie to everyone, making them think that this guy was some mystery man who they’d never met before.

The truth was that it was actually Jeongguk. Jeongguk had been her crush ever since she’d first started hanging out with the boys. The youngest member had always been so nice to her, always giving her advice and inviting her over whenever she was bored or needed someone to talk to, he’d even helped her when her anxiety was acting up and got her through a panic attack. Plus, he was really attractive and that was enough to make Y/N slowly wrap herself around his finger without him even knowing it.

The conversation steered away from love lives into dance practice for the boys, Jeongguk, Hoseok, and Namjoon standing up to go and practice their dance routine for their next show. Jimin, Jin, Tae, Suga, and Y/N were the only ones left in the room.

“Y/N, you have to stop doing this to yourself,” Tae admitted, looking into her eyes in a grief-stricken manner.

She looked up and acted like she didn’t know what he was talking about, turning to Jimin who was looking at her the same was as everyone else in the room.

“He doesn’t know about it and maybe it’s better if he doesn’t. I don’t wanna ruin what we have right now anyways,”

Yoongi shook his head disapprovingly, sighing as he rested his head into the palms of his hands at her response.

“Y/N, you can’t keep lying to him. It’s going to build up until you just burst and it’s going to be too overwhelming for him to comprehend it and it’s gonna make you feel worse than you do now!”

Jimin nodded and held his friend close to him, the tears that fell down her cheeks blankly making him pull her in for a hug. Y/N sniffled and wiped her eyes with the back of her hands, looking up at the four boys sitting in front of her.

She wanted to admit her feelings for him, it’s all she’s ever wanted to do. But he’d always talk about some girl he’d met at the MNET music awards. He’d gotten her phone number after they bumped into each other while he was walking back to his seat and she was all he’d talk about nowadays. It broke Y/N’s heart but she didn’t want to say anything since he seemed so happy when he’d talk about her.

“There’s no point in telling him anyways, he’s too obsessed with Mina to care about my feelings,” She spoke hoarsely, all of the members frowning at her answer, their hearts filling to the brim with pity.

“But, I will at some point I guess, before it gets too serious with him and Mina. I don’t want him to be in a relationship and then I tell him,”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N was going to tell him about her feelings today. She had finally decided to put on her bravest face and rehearsed what she was going to say nearly a hundred times. She was at his bedroom door, her hand reaching up to press her knuckles against the wood of his door. When she heard a soft hum from behind the door she opened it, but the sight was too much for her to bear.

“Y/N!” Jeongguk jumped, pulling his lips away from none other than the woman of the hour, Mina.

Y/N’s breathing picked up and she could feel her heart shatter into thousands of shards, cutting the inside of her body that now burned. She looked at Mina and then Jeongguk, both of them sitting on his bed with messy hair and swollen lips, the two of them looking at her like she'd just murdered someone. Y/N muttered a soft apology before sprinting away from his room, the sound of the front door getting thrown open making Jeongguk sprint outside right behind her.

The hard rain pounded against her head, but it didn’t hurt half as bad as seeing Jeongguk with Mina did. Her tears blended in with the droplets of cold water splashing onto her skin, her flushed face relaxing at the feeling of the drizzle of cool water surging down her cheeks. She stopped when she felt a tap on her shoulder, the sound of Jeongguk’s tired breaths ringing in her ears.

She turned around and faced him, his face red from running after her as he doubled over, his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. He took one look at her and everything came crashing down for him, his heart breaking at the sight of her crying in front of him.

“Y-Y/N you weren’t supposed to see that,” Jeongguk stuttered out, still slightly out of breath when he spoke.

“No. I-it’s fine. I should’ve waited for a more forward answer,” Y/N replied, furrowing her eyebrows as she let more tears fall down her cheeks when she blinked.

“W-What were you going to say? Did something happen?” His hand caressed her cheek and instead of nuzzling into it like she always did, she ripped her face away from his warm palm, the skin feeling colder than ever without his touch.

“Y-yeah, you-you know what? Something did happen, Jeongguk. And I was supposed to fix it right now by telling you, but this just proved my point.” She snapped. “I was stupid for thinking that I should take everyone’s advice,”

Jeongguk wore a confused expression on his face as Y/N rambled, her voice cracking with dysphoria. She met his gaze and he could see how puffy and bloodshot her eyes were, her hair damp and dripping wet, the sounds of her tears and the beads of rain falling onto the concrete making the same feeble sound.

“What advice? And what were you supposed to fix Y/N? I don’t understand,”

The girl scoffed and looked down at her feet, trying her hardest not to embarrass herself by wailing and screaming. She already drew enough attention to herself, she didn’t need more attention drawn to her. Before she could open her mouth, Mina came up from behind Jungkook, one of his hoodies draped over her head. Y/N’s favorite hoodie of his to wear. Actually, it was the one he reserved in his closet for her. Whenever she was feeling sad, he’d designated a specific hoodie of his for her to wear, and now Mina was wearing it.

That was when Y/N realized that there was no going back on her anger now. She looked up at the boy in front of her and furiously wiped her tears, letting out a loud hiccup as she tried to speak, sniffling and closing her eyes as she leaned down slightly, her body racking with sobs before she made eye contact with him again.

“I WAS SUPPOSED TO FIX THIS JEONGGUK, I WAS SUPPOSED TO FIX WHAT I DID WRONG,” Y/N wailed, Jeongguk’s expression softening when he heard her start to yell.

“DO YOU JUST LET ANY GIRL WHERE THE HOODIE YOU SAID WAS FOR ME? DO YOU TREAT EVERY GIRL THE SAME?” She shouted. “Maybe I just misunderstood,”

Jeongguk turned around to see Mina in the hoodie he’d given to her and he felt his heart wrench with guilt. He asked Mina to go back inside and put the hoodie away, not wanting her to wear it when Y/N was the only girl who’d ever worn it.

“Y-Y/N, no. No, I don’t treat every girl the same. I swear, whatever I did with you was genuine, and-and special, I swear,”

“You don’t have to lie to me Jeongguk,” Y/N whimpered, wiping her eyes with the back of her hands once more.

She was shivering, she was so cold, but she didn’t even care. She just wanted to run away and get away from him, to just leave and never have to see him again. He took note of her shivering and reached his arms out to her, wanting to warm her up with his touch. She ripped herself away from him once more and let out another cough.

“DON’T TOUCH ME JEONGGUK,” She screamed. “BECAUSE THEN I WON’T BE ABLE TO FIX ANYTHING, YOU’RE JUST GOING TO RUIN IT AND I’LL NEVER BE ABLE TO TELL YOU WHAT I WANTED TO,”

Jeongguk was so confused, he just wanted to know what was wrong and the fact that she was being hysterical wasn’t able to help him help her.

“What do you want to fix Y/N? What’s making you so angry?”

She’d completely lost her cool at that mere comment. Why was it so hard to confess feelings for someone? Why did she have to fall for him when he clearly didn’t like her back? She just wanted to shrivel up and crawl into a ball.

“YOU. YOU, JEONGGUK! YOU’RE THE PROBLEM,” Y/N bawled, her voice raw and hoarse. “YOU MADE ME FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU AND YOU’VE COMPLETELY RUINED ME,”

Jeongguk’s eyes widened and he nearly fell backwards, the reality of it all finally hitting him. She had caught feelings for him. She was in love with him.

“AND ALL YOU TALK ABOUT IS MINA RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME AND YOU MAKE ME FEEL LIKE SHIT FOR EVEN THINKING THAT YOU COULD EVER LIKE ME BACK! I WANTED TO TELL YOU, I-I TRIED SO HARD BUT I COULD NEVER BRING MYSELF TO DO IT,”

“I WAS SUPPOSED TO TELL YOU RIGHT NOW AND SEEING YOU WITH HER MADE ME WANT TO GAUGE MY FUCKING EYES OUT! I DIDN’T WANT TO CATCH FEELINGS BECAUSE I KNOW YOU DON’T LOVE ME, BUT I DID AND I COULDN’T DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT,”

Y/N stopped to catch her breath, her comments coming out of her mouth so fast that she was scared she’d lose air from how fast she’d spoken to him. Part of her was wishing that he hadn’t understood her so she could’ve said how she felt and he wouldn’t have said anything and they could go back to normal. But he’d heard every word, and it sucked.

“JUST-j-just say something, p-please,”

She looked into his eyes to see him wearing the same expression as before, his dark brown doe-like eyes widened in fear and his mouth agape, his arms in an awkward position when she finally asked him to answer her.

“Y-Y/N, I-”

She knew it. He didn’t feel the same way. She didn’t know why she followed the boys’ advice. She knew it was too stupid of her.

“Just forget any of this happened,”

With that, Y/N walked all the way back home in the rain, part of Jeongguk yearning to go after her to talk to her, but his feet stayed firmly planted on the concrete, his hair falling in front of his face, blocking the view he head of her walking away with her head down and her arms crossed over her chest.

He wanted to speak. He had so much he wanted to tell her, he wanted everything to come out but it wouldn’t, it just got caught in his throat. Standing in the rain gave him time to think to himself finally, the sound of it against his ears and pounding against the top of his head making him finally realize,

He was in love with her too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a week since Y/N had confessed and she looked horrible. Jimin had tried everything in his power to get Y/N out of bed to do something productive, but he was always met with her being asleep or too buried in the tissues on her bed to pull her out.

“Jin-hyung I don’t know what to do, she won’t move, she won’t eat, I’ve had to force feed her so she doesn’t starve, I’m scared for her,” Jimin’s head was nuzzled into his hands, Jin rubbing his back comfortingly as tears fell from his eyes.

“Don’t worry Jimin, she’s going to be okay. As long as she has you she’s going to be just fine,”

Jimin nodded and continued to hug Jin.

The next morning he woke up and Jin was gone, his eyes shooting open as he rushed into Y/N’s bedroom to make sure that she was okay. When he saw that the bed was empty and heard the toilet flush, he realized she’d finally gotten out of bed. The bathroom door opened and out came Y/N, her messy bun unkempt with hairs sticking up in every direction, dark purple bags under her eyes, stains from her tears resting on her cheeks as dark red lines.

Jimin stopped Y/N on her way back to her bed and Y/N tried to move herself out of his grasp, but once she felt Jimin’s arms wrap around her figure, she couldn’t help but hug him back as he rubbed her back comfortingly. The two best friends cried in each other’s arms, not wanting to move from their position.

A knock at the door made both of their ears perk up, Jimin grabbing hold of Y/N’s arm as he yelled for whoever was at the door to come in while he cleaned his best friend’s face up.

“You really worried me, you know,” Jimin stated quietly. “I didn’t know if you were alive by the fifth day of you being locked up in there,”

Y/N looked down as Jimin placed a cold washcloth on her face to bring down the swelling under her eyes and on her cheeks. Y/N looked up through slightly damp eyelashes, apologetically glancing at Jimin’s tired and worn down expression.

“I’m sorry,” She croaked, some parts of the words fading into silence when she spoke.

Jimin smiled softly and rubbed her arms, fixing her hair as a final touch before he took her out of the bathroom. The two friends walked out of the bathroom to head into the kitchen to order something to eat when they saw Jin. He wasn’t alone. From behind him came Jeongguk with a bouquet of lilacs, sadly looking down at his shoes.

Y/N stared at Jeongguk and felt her heart break once more, the same way it had that day, if not even harder. Jimin grabbed Y/N before she could leave and pleaded for her to stay with his eyes, Y/N sighing as she looked into Jeongguk’s eyes. Jimin hugged her tightly and walked into the kitchen to order some food.

“You can come to my room to talk,” Y/N grunted lightly, Jeongguk nodding as he followed behind her into her dark room.

The room was almost completely dark, the small bit of sunlight that shone through her black curtains being the only thing that lit up her room. Y/N grabbed her trashcan and picked up all of the dirty tissues and tried to somewhat make her bed look neater before Jeongguk sat down. He handed her the flowers and Y/N softly smiled, the darkness hiding it from his eyes.

“Y-Y/N I wanted to apologize… for-for not saying anything when you told me how you felt,” Jeongguk began.

“It’s fine, Yoongi warned me that if I waited too long it would happen and it did, guess I should’ve just listened to him,”

Jeongguk looked down grimly, wanting to cry himself from how horrible he felt for causing Y/N to be this way. She met his gaze through the pitch black of her room and he felt himself buckle under the pressure, letting out a shaky sigh before grabbing her hands.

“Jeongguk if you just wanted to apologize then it’s fine, I’ll get over it. I know you don’t like me, you don’t have to remind me,”

He cut her off by smashing his lips onto her own, the skin of her lips still soft despite the seven days she’d gone just letting herself cry in bed. The second he felt her kiss back he found himself grown antsy, throwing his right hand behind her neck to pull her closer while the other gripped onto the material of her shirt tightly, grabbing a fistful of it into his palm.

They pulled away and Y/N was out of breath, not even noticing Jimin spying on them from the crack in her bedroom door. She didn’t know what to say. Now she was the one breathless as Jeongguk panted.

“Y/N, I love you,” He said it so quickly that Y/N asked him to say it again.

“Y-you what?”

“I’m in love with you,”

Y/N couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She looked up at him to see that he didn’t look too hot either. Maybe not as bad as she did, but he did have bags under his eyes and his eyes were a bit bloodshot; he’d been crying over her.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything when you told me you loved me, and that I didn’t go after you even though I knew I should’ve. I was just so shocked a-and scared,”

Y/N nodded and listened to him ramble, wanting to just reconnect their lips again and forget about everything that had happened before this moment.

“I just want to be with you, I realized that you were the only girl who’d ever shown me the same amount of care I’d shown to them and it really made me think about how much I care about you,”

He gulped, blinking back a couple of tears.

“P-please, please let me love you. I really want to be with you, p-please tell me you still feel the same way,”

Y/N was crying again, but not with her knees tucked into her chest under the covers this time, no, she was crying while holding Jeongguk’s hands, listening to him admit his feelings for her, begging her to be with him.

“I-, y-yes. I want- I want to be with you. Please,”

Jeongguk nearly screamed, a scoff leaving his lips as he jumped up, lifting her into his arms as his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her close to his figure before he reconnected their lips once more, closing the gap between them a second time.

They pulled away and rested their foreheads on each other’s, looking into each other’s eyes before smiling at each other, soft giggles protruding from their lips as they closed their eyes, finally able to call each other boyfriend and girlfriend. She never expected it to happen like this, and neither did he, but they were so glad to be in that moment.

And that was more than enough for them.

#bts #bts x reader #kpop #kpop fanfiction #kpop idol x reader #jungkook #jeon jugnkook #jungkook imagines #jungkook x reader #jeon jeongguk #jeongguk x reade #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung

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pinkandgreenarepurpleandyellow · 5 years ago

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Y’all, hear me out.

So we all already know that Crowley and Aziraphale are ready to protect every single LGBT kid/adult/person in London from anything, but consider, BEELZEBUB.

Beelzebub gets chucked onto Earth for a small mission (as punishment for the ‘crowley getting away’ fiasco or whatever) and ze isn’t exactly happy to be here, but then ze sees a little girl. The girl should’t be anything special, but she’s playing with the flies, chattering to some of them, splashing in the mud to get closer to them, and the sight makes Beelzebub uncomfortable enough to finish zeir mission immediately and spend the next ten years (demons and angels have a strange concept of time) drinking.

But ze can’t forget, so ze goes to visit the girl again. She’s older now, and she doesn't play with the flies anymore. Instead she draws and writes about how she is a fly, she screams and cries and breaks down and then gets up and draws and writes and speaks until her voice is hoarse. There’s something strange about this, and Beelzebub doesn’t know what until ze realizes something.

The girl is acting like some of the demons from hell. Not all demons are inherently evil and horrible, and even the ones that are aren't always like that 24/7. There’s plenty of more “soft” demons around, ones that fell for asking things, for not agreeing to seeing their friends fall, for trying to prove the innocence of a banished angel, and all of them do something similar. They all cry and scream and destroy the walls, but they also get up, keep going, keep the gears of Hell churning, and there’s something mildly upsetting about seeing a human girl do the exact same things.

Beelzebub watches as the door to the attic the girl is in opens, watches as the presumable father walks in and starts berating the girl for everything, escalating until he’s screaming in her face. He screams about how disgusting she is and how much of a freak she and her friends all are, how she’d be better off dead, all sorts of things, and then he rips off her bracelet, a pink and orange one, with different shades on it, almost like a flag. The man seems even more engaged whne he sees the bracelet, screaming about sinners and hell and lesbians and sodomy, and then he moves to hit the girl.

Something in Beelzebub snaps at this, and ze moves without thinking, biting the man’s head off and covering his body in a swarm of flies. The girl blinks in shock and seems to be able to do nothing more than stare. Beelzebub spots the bracelet and kneels down to pick it up.

“Here,” ze says and hands it back. She thanks zir and that’s when the shock seems to start wearing off as the scene sinks in and she scrambles away from zir.

That’s what ze gets for doing something Beelz muses as ze flies out. But as ze’s almost out of earshot, ze hears a scream. “Thank you for saving me!” and it’s loaded with so many emotions at once.

Beelzebub decides to stay a little longer on Earth, citing to the superiors that ze believes there might be a new cult based on this strange flag ze saw and ze wants to ensure they are tempted to sin.

Basic research shows the bracelet to have been a lesbian pride flag. More research explains that a lesbian is a woman who is attracted to exclusively other women. Beelzebub is a little behind the times, but ze doesn't fully get the concept of why pride is necessary for this. Or why it’s such a big deal. SHE wouldn't care in the slightest if some of Her flock were like that, but apparently this was something that mattered to humans.

Beelzebub walks down the street and then ze sees a silhouette on a rooftop, a young boy (Ze has the ability to read auras, and some can tell the gender through an aura as well), and he appears to be ready to throw himself off at any moment. Then Ze senses a demonic presence, and Crowley dashes up to the boy like a madman, and starts enigmatically talking to him. Beelzebub strains to hear, and gets snippets of reassurance and doubt and confidence and Crowley’s reassuring and comfort gradually helping the boy step back.

The duo makes their way back onto the street somehow, and as they pass zir, ze overhears Crowley telling the boy that nonsense, gender wasn’t what’s between someone’s legs, he’s all the more a man for being able to survive in a body that feels wrong, he’s trans too, really, let’s go to Crowley’s house, right this way, you’ll love it.

Several days later ze sees the boy walking down the street again, but now it’s with more confidence. But there’s also something brimming deeper inside, some anger, and Beelzebub decides to tempt them just a little. Steal it, ze whispers into his ear, it would make you so happy. And the pharmacy overcharges for hormones anyway, you should strike back against the man, steal it, steal it, steal it, and yet the boy ignores zir. Ze almost feels offended before ze reads the boys thoughts a little more, and the mantra of steal it, steal it seems to be playing on an endless loop in there. The boy’s angry and tired and upset, but he’s also resigned to his own fate. This is somewhat interesting.

Beelzebub does research and finds out about the stigma against LGBT people. Ze searches for them on the streets, and ze speaks to them. The gay kid punching the wall stops hurting himself and goes to beat up the guy who hurt him for so long, revenge and wrath in one. The bisexual girl finally kicks her father below the belt, punches dear ol’ mom in the face, and runs to the nearest shelter after almost a year of abuse. The trans woman steals hormones from the pharmacy for the younger kids, she wants hormones but she’d rather they have what they need before she takes any for herself.

Crowley and Aziraphale find them eventually of course. The boy shows up at the bookstore for their gay cafe event. The girl runs in screaming for sanctuary late at night. The woman is drawn to the shop after seeing the snake in the window, and all of them go in and heal the broken pieces. But it’s only because first they get their anger and brokenness out there in the open, shout until their throats are raw, hit until their fists are bleeding, run until they feel content, and Beelzebub helps them with this part. Ze helps them feel a little more sick anger and pride for a while, if they’re really as sick and depraved as everyone keeps telling them, why not be sick and depraved to the fullest, why not punch homophobes, why not date who they want to and snog whomever they damn well please? But most of them are also good people deep down, so they also help others, and they go to find help for themselves.

Crowley sees Beelzebub walking two teenagers to the shop, invisibly sending them thoughts of how if the owner gave either of them flack for their neo-pronouns or dress style they could always run away or smahs the bookstore windows with a brick. The two demons make eye contact, and Crowley nods a thanks to the Lord of Flies before saying hello the two teens and gently steering them into the bookshop.

There’s a strange form of friendship, or co-workerness, between them after that. Crowley still hates Beelzebub with a passion, and vice-versa, but they’re willing to come together on the idea that morally grey is also acceptable. At a protest Crowley is the one who causes havoc on the homophobic side by setting off sprinklers or turning holy water to vinegar, and Beelzebub tempts the allies and LGBT members to fight and scream with new passion, tempts the bible-banging homophobes to argue with one another until they tear themselves apart in hate. And both demons nod to one another, and part ways.

Crowley and Aziraphale take in the people looking for shelter and hope and healing. Beelzebub finds the ones who want to break and destroy and scream and helps them get the urges out of their system before ze brings them conveniently near the shop.

Crowley and Aziraphale protect the happiness and the healing, Beelzebub protects and supports the angry ones, and ze acts like a guardian demon to them, watching over London with a keen eye and small spies everywhere, the flies.

And even though neither of the ineffable husbands ever mentions it explicitly, they silently thank Beelz for sending the people their way every time another one comes to them. One of the earlier arrivals was a young femme lesbian, pale as death under her dark skin and she tells them the story of a swarm of flies killing her step-father and letting her finally run from home.

That was the proof that Crowley needed to know that there is a guardian demon in London, one that isn’t him, one that still does care about the humans, and it’s a weight off his shoulders when he sees the flies sitting on the windowsill, as though they’re watching too.

#i've been reading too much ineffable bureaucracy and got inspired #also: nb beelzebub bc neil gaiman said so #beelzebub #good omens

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vitanes · 6 years ago

Text

say it’s okay when it’s not

chapter 10: two slow dancers

Lucas tries to pull himself up after the accident, has conversations that make him breathe easier and receives an unexpected confession.

(a/n: internalised homophobia, suicidal ideation)

They were expelled. Lucas was sitting down on a chair next to the principal’s office, his body trembling when his father came out of the office and told him that. He also said Lucas could press charges against them, but at this point, Lucas’ brain had shut off. In all honesty, it stopped properly working the moment he had been attacked and Lucas wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to think normally again.

He lost consciousness due to all of the stress and pain so he only knows what happened from bits and pieces he was able to grasp when people recalled the event. As it turned out, Alexia and Daphne were walking down the hall when they saw what was happening. They quickly contacted the rest. Imane went to get the principal while the others came to Lucas’ rescue. His friends dragged the bullies away from him, landed a few punches themselves and soon enough the whole thing was resolved.

While Lucas was regaining his senses in the nurse’s office, his father was called in and by the time he was let out, his father was ready to share the news and drive him to the flat.

Lucas has been unresponsive ever since he woke up. He hasn’t said a word to any of his friends nor to his father. Under normal circumstances, he’d probably be baffled. He hasn’t seen his old man in months, their last conversations were messy. And yet, Lucas couldn’t find it in himself to care hard enough to even look at him.

He mechanically left the car once they pulled up by the building and didn’t look back at all before walking in.

He’s been broken to pieces and in the grand scheme of things, the issues with his father simply don’t matter.

***

Lucas hasn’t been able to feel anything but pain and indifference for the past few days. He isn’t sure what caused the latter, but he’s certain it’s the only thing keeping him sane, away from exploding so he’ll take it over anything else. He hasn’t been able to eat, he’s been barely getting out of bed and all he’s been doing is sleep a lot. When he sleeps it doesn’t hurt as much. And people say that sleep is good for healing, so perhaps it’s not that bad.

His ribs, abdomen, various parts of his body are ugly purple and he can’t roll over without hissing in pain.

As much as he tends to overthink, this time his mind is blank and hollow. Full of white noise. And maybe that’s good, too. Maybe that’s what he needs right now. The only kind of peace his brain is able to offer him. If he doesn’t think, he can’t keep reliving that nightmare and it’s the best alternative even if it leaves a mere ghost of him present. Either sleeping or staring up at the ceiling with insistent buzzing at the back of his head.

Maybe it’s his phone. Or someone talking to him without him noticing them.

He closes his eyes and doesn’t dream at all.

***

A few things happen. Lucas eats something, takes a shower, snaps out of his daze and has a breakdown over seeing all of the bruises over his skin.

He gets back to his bedroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist, water still dripping and limbs shaking.

He isn’t sure he can face the world ever again. He’s too terrified, too weak, too vulnerable.

He’s gay and that makes him a target.

There are more people who will want to hurt him, he knows that. Each and every person from his school who didn’t do anything while he was being attacked. A whole bunch of students who wouldn’t care if he had been kicked until he wouldn’t be able to wake up.

He doesn’t want it to happen. He doesn’t want to die because of it, God, he doesn’t. He doesn’t want to be ambushed and treated this way again. That’s why he can’t leave the flat. It’s too dangerous.

The world is too cruel out there and Lucas has never been much of a fighter to handle it. But he’s been a survivor and he’ll do what survivors do best – stay in safety, alive. Be hidden, unharmed.

***

At some point, Lucas does what he shouldn’t. He checks his social media.

The moment he stumbles across all of the posts he’s been tagged in since Friday, he can’t breathe properly. There are very few sympathising with him, but the majority of what he sees makes his gut churn. So many people just make fun of it, as if it was nothing. He sees a blurry picture of the boys landing kicks on him and the caption says me vs my responsibilities. There are more of these and Lucas just can’t get his head around the fact his tragedy has been made into a meme.

Videos have been posted as well. With much hesitation, Lucas plays one. He hears people cheering, the way boots contact with his body and wailing. His own. The other videos aren’t any better. Only snippets, a few seconds but it’s enough to make Lucas’s heart beat faster. He’s cold with sweat, body shaking.

There is one clip showing the moment his friends entered. It’s messy, the quality is shit, but Lucas recognises them anyway. Basile is sent flying when he tries to pull one of the bullies away. Arthur jumps on the back of the tallest one, strangling him and yelling obscenities. Yann socks another one in the eye and gets a hit in return that makes him stagger backward, but he doesn’t seem defeated. Eliott runs into the last one and they both end up on the floor, fighting. The video cuts at the moment the principal arrives. Lucas’ wasn’t imagining things when he saw Imane before blacking out because she’s there, too. Trying to get to Lucas.

Something in Lucas’ chest squeezes and he watches the video two more times before moving on. He feels guilty. They were hurt because of him, maybe had to face some consequences for getting into a fight. They’ve got bruises on their skin.

Lucas is nothing but a burden to them. First with rent money, now this. He couldn’t even defend himself. All he did was lie down and be kicked, begging someone to help him. How can he be so weak?

The more he scrolls down the page, the more he realises it’s just a joke for others. He and his friends suffered injuries and people laugh at it.

Lucas clutches the phone in his palm, sniffing. He doesn’t think he can watch more of it. Seeing the way he was attacked like that has caused him so much anxiety he’s almost overflowing. He can feel every hit again when he moves his hand over his chest and lower, his fingers pressing against the bruises. The skin is tender and the harder he presses, the more he can’t take a proper breath. But he can’t stop his fingertips from dancing over the area, making him gasps with each touch. He is in pain, but he can’t stop himself. Can’t stop after what he’s seen. He must prove to himself the videos are real, that it happened and it’s not just a figment of his imagination. Not something that can be easily turned into a joke. That he was genuinely screaming for help, not acting for someone’s entertainment. But no matter how deep he digs his fingers into the raw flesh, he can’t shake off the feeling that he was only a puppet. A part of the show that has now become a meme.

Someone knocks and he jumps between the sheets, his hand stopping in the middle of his ribs. He looks towards the door, letting out a shuddering exhale.

“Lucas, can I come in?” It’s Mika’s raspy and quiet voice. He sounds off and Lucas briefly wonders why. Right after that, he thinks whether he should say yes. He hasn’t shown himself to any of them in a couple of days. And he isn’t sure he’s ready for it. So he stays quiet.

Much to no one’s surprise, Mika takes it as confirmation and opens the door. In the last second, before Mika steps in, Lucas removes his hand from under his shirt. He wouldn’t know how to explain himself.

Mika sits at the edge of Lucas’ bed and the way his gaze is boring into Lucas’ face is so intense Lucas can’t bring himself to meet Mika’s eyes.

“I can’t watch you doing this to yourself,” Mika says, his voice quiet. “You’ve been crying again,” he adds, reaching out his hand. He uses his thumb to wipe under Lucas’ eyes and it’s then that he realises his cheeks are wet. “Let me be there for you. Tell me what’s going on.” He retreats his hand.

“Haven’t you heard?” Lucas asks and his voice sounds so foreign to his own ears, he needs a moment to grasp the fact he said it.

“I want to hear it from you. I– you deserve to have a voice. I haven’t seen anything, I haven’t asked other people who seemed to know. I knew something was going on. But I’m not going to let someone take it away from you. So I stayed away from everything that could give me answers. It’s your thing to tell,” Mika says, his expression serious and Lucas believes him. He’s completely sincere and considering his lack of reaction Lucas was expecting when the pictures were leaked or when Lucas was hit with that ball, he knows Mika is telling the truth.

Lucas bites down on his bottom lip. “But you know,” he says as a statement and there’s so much sadness painted over Mika’s face in that moment, Lucas doesn’t need any other response.

Mika looks down at his lap. “It’s hard not to connect the dots when I see so much of myself in you,” he whispers, his voice sounding distant. He glances back at Lucas. “But maybe I’m wrong. I want to be wrong, have you tell me you’ve become a streetfighter,” he adds sheepishly.

Lucas tries to smile, but considering how Mika’s face falls he thinks he didn’t do a good job. He blinks a few times to will the tears away. He isn’t sure he can say everything without breaking down, but at this point, will he have enough power ever to do that?

Probably not, so the best way to tell his story is from the beginning.

“The reason I didn’t have money for rent was… was because I had to pay someone who caught me kissing a person I shouldn’t have and took pictures of us. But I ran out of money and they leaked the pictures. People have been giving me hell, but the guys from my PE class took it to the extreme. And here I am,” Lucas says and realises that even when he was telling the truth, he was using words so vague, that normally someone would find the whole thing confusing. One look at Mika, though, and Lucas knows he’s been understood.

He doesn’t have to say it out loud in order to be heard. Not when it comes to Mika.

Mika sighs loudly and moves closer. “I wish I had known earlier. I’d have helped you more. What happened to the blackmailer?” Lucas shrugs. He hasn’t heard from them in a long time. “The bullies?”

“They were expelled.”

“What about you?” Mika finally asks and the question is so loaded, Lucas feels like he’s been punched in the face once again. What about him? He’s beaten, lost, broken. He’s got no place in the world, he can’t look at himself and the worst of it all? Sometimes he thinks he deserved what happened to him. He knows he shouldn’t have thoughts like that, but every now and then the small voice in the back of his head, the one that always spits out hatred, will say that they should have hit him harder. “I can hear you thinking but I can’t hear you talking,” Mika says after a few minutes of silence.

And Lucas looks at him then, so earnest to help, so worried. Maybe he’d understand if Lucas told him?

“I feel awful. I don’t want to leave this place because I’m scared. And guilty for dragging my friends into this, but at the same time I think that maybe those guys were right to do this,” he says in one breath, his left hand curled up into a fist.

“Oh, Lucas… don’t. Please, don’t,” Mika says, placing his hand on Lucas’ shoulder. “Under no circumstances would they ever be right to hurt you for being you. And you haven’t dragged anyone into this. Friends help each other. Lucas, hey, look at me.” He puts a finger under Lucas’ chin and tilts his head up. Lucas’ eyes sting from unshed tears.

“What if I hate being me? Being this way?” he asks and Mika scowls at him.

“Tell me, what’s making the way you love someone worse than the way, for example, Manon does? Our sexuality isn’t wrong or dirty, how we feel isn’t any different. And honestly? Sometimes we love more deeply because we have a different understanding of things. Because we’ve been deprived of love in our lives. The way you are is beautiful and in no way, someone beating you up for that could be justified. We are already hated by society, you can’t let them convince you they’re right. You can’t let them win,” Mika says and the way his voice trembles by then end tells Lucas he’s fought enough battles to know what he’s saying.

“But if I was normal everything would be so much easier. No one would hurt me, think I’m gross, I wouldn’t be rejected. I’d have a chance in life.”

Something dark flashes across Mika’s face. “Does that mean you think I don’t have a chance in life? Or other gay people for that matter?” It’s the first time one of them used that word in the whole conversation and Lucas flinches.

“No, I–“

“We are normal, you, me. I know you have so much internalised crap in yourself it’s not easy to overcome, but I really wish you could realise that. We go to school or work, we fall sick and in love, we eat, we fuck, we have families. We’re sad, happy, we pay bills. We have to fight a little harder for everything, but we aren’t some weirdos. There are other groups of people that share the same struggles, you know? And sure, we’re the rejected ones, but when that happens we create our own homes, safe places. There are plenty of things people consider gross, but that can’t define you. You have to live your life for yourself. Don’t let the big white cis straight guy dictate how you should be.” Mika pulls away, his face full determination all over. And a part of Lucas feels inspired, wants to agree. It’s overshadowed by everything that’s been ingrained in his mind throughout the years but even if it’s merely a planted seed, an inkling, it’s an accomplishment.

Lucas wipes his face with his sleeve. “What should I do, though?” he asks in a weak voice.

Mika hums thoughtfully. “You can’t hide. You aren’t in a place where it’s easy for you to accept things, but you can’t hide. You can’t be easy prey. You have to fight back. There’s no way for you to go back into the closet anymore. So you need to embrace it. And even if you don’t believe it now, you know what they say, right?” Mika smiles at him encouragingly, a new fire in his eyes. Oh, how Lucas wishes he could feel the same.

“I don’t,” he breathes out.

“Fake it until you make it. Own it. Be unbearable. If they spit into your eye, you spit back. You don’t let that experience weaken you, but make you stronger. Report them. When they talk shit, talk back. Kiss the boy you like.” It all seems easier said than done. Lucas isn’t sure he could stand up for himself, especially that all other times he was paralysed by fear. But Mika is right with one thing, he can’t go back into the closet. The way he was outed was merciless and didn’t give him a way to deny anything. He needs to find an alternative.

“I don’t like any boy,” he says, remembering that part of Mika’s speech.

Mika looks at him, perplexed. “You don’t?” Lucas shakes his head and Mika blinks in confusion before waving his hand dismissively. “That’s beyond the point. What I mean is that you don’t let them crush you. I’m not telling you everything will get great, no. But don’t make it easy for them.”

There’s a lot of truth in what Mika’s told him so far. A lot Lucas still can’t take to his heart, yet. But maybe one day he’ll be able to feel the same way. One thing that surely reached him is that despite never being a fighter, nothing can stop him from pretending.

Mika can be many things; nosy, loud, all over the place, but the way he cares and gives Lucas will to live outweighs anything else. He’s family, a family that won’t leave Lucas alone with everything that’s been going on. And even if Lucas doesn’t love himself, Mika will love him twice as much. He couldn’t have wished for more.

***

Lucas hasn’t gone to school but decided to leave the flat nevertheless. To clear his mind, maybe, or just get away from these taunting four walls. It’s been a few days since he breathed some fresh air and it could help him figure some stuff out. Do things he’s been postponing for weeks.

He asked Yann to meet up with him, by the lake. He thinks that after days of silence and everything that happened, it was the right moment to talk. And Yann is his person. No matter how much love other people offer to him, no matter how magnetic his connection with Eliott is, Lucas can’t deny the fact Yann is his home and the first one he wants to see.

It’s windy outside and Lucas thinks it may start raining any time. That’s good. There aren’t many people in the park. That way Lucas won’t feel crowded.

He came early, much earlier than the time they set up. To come up with what to say, to have a moment to brace himself before seeing Yann.

To make a phonecall he couldn’t bring himself to make in the flat.

It takes three signals for his mom to pick up.

“Hello? Lucas?” she asks. Even hearing these two words makes Lucas realise how different her voice is from the last time he heard her. How much more life there is in her. His throat closes up and he can’t speak for a moment. He expects his mom to hang up, think he dialed her by accident and simply press the ending-call button. But the call is still on once he finds his breathing again, his mother patiently waiting for him on the other side.

“Hi, mom,” he finally croaks out. His leg starts involuntarily bouncing.

“Hey, honey,” she replies, her voice filled with warmth. Lucas threads his fingers through his hair, making it messy. He should have texted her, it would have been easier.

“Is it okay to call?” he asks, looking around himself as if someone was going to jump out from behind the bush and told him off for calling his mom.

“Of course. It’s been so long since I heard from you,” she says, but there’s no accusation in her voice. Lucas would be angry if he was her. Not calm or understanding.

“How are you?” he asks, bringing his hand up to his face and brushing his thumb over his bottom lip.

“I’m quite well. I’ve been into knitting lately. Helps me relax. We finally found the right medication. I’ve been going to church. You know, the usual,” she says, laughing a little. She’s so different from how he remembers her. Last time he saw her, she was barely present, she was shaky and her skin looked almost translucent. “I’ve missed you,” she admits quietly. “Your dad doesn’t talk with me much so I couldn’t find out anything from him.”

Lucas pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger and grits his teeth. “I’m sorry,” he says and he means it. He abandoned her for months, left her alone in the facility, fully aware his father didn’t give a fuck. He ran away from her when she needed him the most.

“Don’t be. You had the right to live. And I’m your parent, not the other way around. The situation was too much for each one of us. But don’t blame yourself, okay? I’m happy you called. That’s what matters to me. How have you been?” She’s composed for both of them and that’s what keeps Lucas grounded. He has no idea what he’d do if he had to be the comforting one again. Especially given his current situation. He really needs her right now.

“So much has happened, mom. Bad things. I’m not sure I can tell you through the phone,” he mumbles. Yann is going to come soon, he doesn’t have enough time to say half the things he wants to.

“We could meet,” she says and the breath in Lucas’ throat hitches. “Of course only if you want to. I don’t want to put any pressure on you. I know it could be too fast or–“

“No, no. We can,” Lucas cuts in. His mom sounded panicked for a second, like she overstepped the boundaries and Lucas doesn’t want her to feel that way. Not when she’s been trying so hard to reach out to him. “But there’s one condition,” he says, his voice cracking.

“Which is?” she asks hopefully. Lucas takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

“If you promise you won’t hate me, I’ll meet with you.”

“Why would I hate you?” There’s confusion in her words.

He takes a deep breath and counts to ten before speaking again.

“I’m– I’m gay,” he whispers, checking once again if there’s no one else nearby. It’s the first time he said it out loud like that. His heart is pounding in his chest and his palms are sweaty. He can’t believe that in the end his voice barely broke and he was able to utter it. It feels unreal.

His mother stays quiet for a few seconds and it feels like forever before he hears her voice again.

“Lucas, you are my child. I love you no matter what. Nothing can change it. All I want for you is to be happy. I could never hate you, especially not for something like this,” she says solemnly and Lucas lets out a watery exhale.

“Really?”

“Really,” she assures him.

“But God…”

“God makes no mistakes and even if he made them, it wouldn’t be you. He loves you as much as I do, if not more,” his mom replies and Lucas snorts through his stuffed nose.

“Okay, so we can meet. But not in church,” he says and hears his mom laugh. He missed her laugh.

“Fine, but I’m not meeting you in the facility, either.”

“We will figure something out.” She hums and they stay quiet for a few seconds before Lucas registers Yann approaching the bench he’s been sitting on and sits up straighter. “I have to go, but I’ll text you, okay?”

“Okay. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he says and hangs up just as Yann sits next to him, nudging Lucas’ knee with his leg in the process.

“Hey, man. Who were you talking to?”

“My mom.”

Yann smiles slightly under his nose. “How’d it go?”

“We’re going to meet up,” Lucas replies, his eyes glued to the cut and bruise on Yann’s cheekbone. “You got hurt,” he changes the topic, frowning. He watched the clip where the boys appeared too many times not to know where this injury is from.

Yann clicks his tongue. “Not a big deal. You’ve got it worse.”

“Still. You got hurt,” Lucas mutters stubbornly, reaching his hand out. He brushes his fingers over Yann’s cheek and sees a muscle in his jaw ticking under his touch. “I’m so sorry.” He lets his eyes fall down.

“Shut up,” Yann replies, grabbing Lucas’ wrist and bringing his hand to his chest. “I’d do it again, thousand times. The same with the guys. When I saw you lying there,” he wraps his fingers around Lucas’ palm and squeezes, “for a second I thought I lost you. They were kicking you and you weren’t moving. I don’t care about the bruise. I care about you, about the fact all those people who gathered around you did nothing, about those bullies getting away with that. Which they won’t.” He turns towards Lucas. “I don’t know if you pressed charges against them, but we all did so. We went to the police, we showed our injuries and the videos people posted online. You promised we weren’t going to let it go if something else happened, so we aren’t.”

Yann drops Lucas’ hand and it falls into his lap. Yann scrubs a hand over his face.

They stay quiet, the only noise being the wind blowing around them, moving the branches and making waves in the lake. Lucas keeps staring at Yann while Yann is looking straight ahead, squinting his eyes.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this worried. And this applies to all of us. But. Lucas, you’re my best friend. You’re like a brother to me. I wouldn’t forgive myself if I hadn’t stopped them. And I know you’d do the same for me.” Lucas knows this, too. If there was someone causing Yann harm, he’d be an unstoppable force. That’s just their thing. They are protective of each other. Lucas wouldn’t mind getting a few hits if it meant Yann would be safe. So he understands what he means. But it’s not easy to ignore the guilt building up in him, anyway.

Yann got hurt because of him, that fact stands and Lucas can do nothing about it. He hates feeling so helpless. That must be what Yann was going through when he didn’t know what was going on with Lucas for all those weeks.

“Stop being sorry, stop overthinking it. If anyone should be sorry, it’s the assholes who attacked you.” Yann looks at Lucas and jerks his chin up. “How are you holding up?”

Lucas looks to the side, wets his lips with tongue and says, “Could be better.”

Yann hums. “Have you talked with any of the guys or girls?”

Lucas shakes his head. “You’re the first one,” he mumbles and Yann looks bashful for a second before composing himself.

“They all miss you and worry about you. So when you come back to school be prepared for that. Let them have it, okay? I know it may be annoying but you haven’t seen yourself.”

“I don’t know when I’ll come back. I’m scared. And at this point I’m not sure I’ll pass the year with how much I skipped,” he says, scratching the side of his neck.

“Take your time. And don’t worry, I’m sure you will pass. Don’t give up. And if someone makes things difficult for you again, we will wipe the floor with them.”

Lucas glares at Yann, but there’s no malice in it. Once he’s ready, he will get back to school and he’s going to endure his friends’ protectiveness, he will try to face the troubles that are yet to come and rebuild himself from scratch.

“Thank you. I have no idea what I’d do if not you,” Lucas admits and Yann bumps him in the shoulder with his fist.

“Stop saying that or I’ll cry,” he mutters under his breath. The corners of his lips are twitching up and Lucas can’t help but smile as well.

He throws his arm over Yann’s shoulder and brings him closer.

***

Lucas is taking a nap when he’s woken up by someone loudly calling for him. That someone is Mika and Lucas leaves his bed and room only to tell him off. He’s tired and knowing Mika, it’s probably something very trivial.

While stomping towards the place Mika is screaming from, Lucas doesn’t even open his eyes, fully prepared to go back to sleep in a few minutes. He’s in his rumpled t-shirt that’s slipping off his shoulder, briefs and his feet are bare. The floor is cold and Lucas is going to murder Mika for wanting something from him.

When Lucas eventually reaches Mika, he realises they’re standing by the open door and tilts his head to the side.

“Wouldn’t you look who’s just visited us?” Mika says, wiggling his eyebrows and Lucas looks to the open door, confused. His eyes widen momentarily when he sees Eliott standing on their doorstep, looking bashful and holding up two pizza boxes.

Lucas catches his reflection in the mirror placed by the clothing hanger and is mortified by how his puffy his whole face is and every single strand of his hair is facing in the different direction. He can feel warmth climbing up his neck and reaching his face.

“I hope it’s okay to come. If not I can leave the pizzas and go,” Eliott says, looking nervous. Lucas opens his mouth to say that he’d really appreciate it, no matter how much of a prick he’d be, but Mika beats him to it.

“Nonsense, come in,” he ushers Eliott in and takes one of the boxes from him. “It’s for us, right?” Mika asks, eagerly eyeing the box.

“Yeah, I didn’t want to come empty-handed.”

Mika looks meaningfully at Lucas, his lips stretched in a wide grin. “God, you’re perfect,” he says to Eliott. “Have fun!” Mika exclaims, taking his box to the living room where, going by the excited noises coming from the room, the rest of Lucas’ flatmates are.

So Lucas is left with Eliott alone, looking like death, in only an old t-shirt and boxer briefs. They are both looking everywhere but at each other and after some time it gets unbearable.

“I really can go. I don’t want to bother you,” Eliott says, shoving the pizza into Lucas’ arms. For some reason Lucas shoves the box back and they end up pushing the box between each other for a minute or so before they realise how ridiculous the situation is.

“No, come in. I have to say I wasn’t prepared, but it’s fine. Although, I’m tired of talking about what happened. So can we not?”

Eliott smiles at him and nods, his hair jumping with the movement. “Sure. We can just chill.” He shrugs. Only then does Lucas notice a tiny bruise on Eliott’s jawline and his bottom lip being split. Eliott must see him looking because he raises one of his eyebrows. “We aren’t talking about it, are we?” he teases and pushes the box against Lucas again, this time letting go of it completely. Lucas barely manages to catch it. He tries to ignore the pang of guilt when he moves towards his room.

Eliott is right behind him and that makes Lucas very much aware how underdressed he is. It’s frustrating in a way. He doesn’t want to flesh Eliott accidentally. That would only make things awkward.

Lucas locks the door to his bedroom behind them and puts the pizza on the floor. He opens one of his drawers and takes out a pair of sweatpants. While he’s pulling them on, Eliott makes himself comfortable next to the box. Lucas joins him soon enough.

“Pizza again?” he asks, opening the box. Eliott shrugs one shoulder in response.

They start eating, without exchanging many words between the bites. Before they know it, the pizza is eaten and their stomachs full. It’s silent and Lucas finds it pleasant. He likes moments like that with Eliott. He doesn’t feel pressured to say anything. It makes him appreciate what happens in this exact second. The company and the atmosphere.

Lucas slides down to the floor with an ‘oof’ and scrunches his face up. Too much movement and his body aches. He’s missing out on his healing sleep.

“What have you been up to?” Eliott asks, poking him in the shin with his foot.

“Sleeping, being sad. I called my mom. We’re meeting up next week,” he says, looking towards Eliott.

“Oh, that’s nice. I mean the last part,” he replies, rubbing the tip of his nose with his fingers. His cheeks are dusted pink. It’s probably the light.

“I told her that I’m. You know.” Lucas looks meaningfully at Eliott and gets a nod in return. “She said she loved me no matter what,” Lucas mutters, his voice airy.

“I’m happy. You deserve that.” Eliott sounds genuine, but there’s also something nervous about him. Like his head is somewhere else. Lucas cocks an eyebrow at him.

“Everything alright?” he asks and Eliott chuckles.

“Yeah. It’s nothing. Really.” He waves Lucas off. “Can I put on some music?”

“Go ahead.”

Of course, he plays dubstep. What else.

“Oh, I forgot how exquisite your taste is,” Lucas says in amusement. Eliott places a hand to his chest.

“How could you?” he asks, dramatically wiping a fake tear from under his eye.

“I thought that maybe I dreamed it.”

“I doubt your brain is capable of coming up with such excellence,” Eliott says, standing up. He shakes some invisible dust off his clothes and moves the pizza box to the side with his foot. He extends his hand towards Lucas and looks at him solemnly. “May I have this dance?”

Lucas eyes him and the palm quizzically, but eventually grabs it and lets himself be hauled up until he’s chest to chest with Eliott.

“I’m not going to start jumping to your renovation sounds,” Lucas tells him, looking him straight in the eyes. Not realising their proximity yet.

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to,” Eliott says. He’s still holding Lucas’ left hand and his fingers brush the knuckles of Lucas’ right hand gently before he grabs it and puts it on his shoulder. He places his own palm on Lucas’ waist and brings their entangled hands up.

They start swaying and Lucas looks at Eliott like he’s grown a second hand.

“Are we slow dancing? To fucking dubstep?” he asks in disbelief. Eliott ducks his head.

“Yes, we are,” he replies simply and pulls Lucas closer, until they are flush against each other. Lucas yelps, but doesn’t say anything else, too baffled by what’s happening.

Lucas lets Eliott lead them around, following his steps. They move slowly enough for him not to step all over Eliott’s feet or lose breath. His ribs aren’t aching as much and at some point, he’s lulled by the rhythm so much he rests his chin on Eliott’s shoulder. He gets even closer to him, but he doesn’t make anything out of it. Surprisingly enough, he’s content. And relaxed. The dubstep is only a background noise, he’s pretty sure Eliott has his own melody playing in his mind and he makes Lucas follow it.

Lucas closes his eyes and sighs out loud.

Eliott intertwines their fingers and Lucas can feel his breath ghosting over his neck. “I have to tell you something,” Eliott murmurs.

“Yeah?”

“It’s probably obvious by now, but I want to say it anyway,” he pauses and exhales loudly, making goosebumps break out over Lucas’ skin. “I like you. I’ve liked you ever since I saw you. I know my timing is awful. I know that we haven’t been friends for long, but I wanted to be honest with you,” Eliott admits, his voice strained.

Lucas opens his eyes. He can feel his heart speeding up. He misses a step.

“I know I’m putting a lot on you. I don’t… I don’t expect anything from you. I don’t want things to change between us. There’s so much shit going on. So don’t say anything, okay? I just wanted to let you know.” Eliott’s grip on Lucas’ hand tightens for a moment and Lucas can feel how despite sounding calm, he’s trembling.

Lucas is still shocked by the confession, but they are friends first and foremost. Eliott is distressed. So Lucas pushes closer against him and starts rubbing circles with his thumb over his shoulder. He hopes it’s comforting.

“Is it still okay? Us, doing that?” Lucas doesn’t see a reason why it wouldn’t be. He nods. “Can we stay like this a little longer?” Eliott asks in a small voice.

Lucas squeezes his hand.

“Yeah.”

#elu #elu fic #elu fanfic #skam france #skam france fic #skam france fanfic #lucas x eliott #lucas lallemant #eliott demaury

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theeternalspace · 5 years ago

Text

In Memoriam 14

Summary: The metal tree had always fascinated the Prince.

Only, it wasn’t a tree.

And, as it turned out, he wasn’t really a Prince. Instead he was… a side of someone’s personality? He doesn’t remember Thomas, or the other sides, those who call themselves his friends. He doesn’t really remember anything, not even his own name, no matter the efforts of Patton, Logan or Virgil. He must venture back into the Wardrobe door, back to the metal tree in an attempt to recover his missing memories and regain everything he has lost.

But perhaps some doors are best left closed for a reason. And perhaps some personas should remain in the ground where they have been buried.

Story Warnings: Sympathetic/Grey Deceit Sanders. He is trying his best you guys. Anxiety. Self doubt and self loathing. Fantasy fighting. Verbal fighting. Threatening behaviour. Blood and injury. Memory loss. Drowning. Near death.

Previous || Next

The white crystal sparkled in his hands, catching the sunlight as he turned it this way and that, staring deep at the object that was about the side of a tennis ball with various icicles poking out. So a pointy tennis ball that would either get stuck or destroy a racket if he actually tried to play with it. Or else it would melt, the object ice cold to the touch and Virgil wasn’t sure if was actually an ice crystal or if it was just the throne room he was still standing in that made it seem that cold. Either was possible, but then again, neither mattered. It wasn’t what it looked like or even what it was made of that made this object the most precious item in the whole of the Imagination right now.

Inside was the answer to his quest. The cure to Roman’s memory loss because it was Roman’s memories. All contained inside this little ball which glowed as the light hit it, Virgil staring deeper into it. Now that he took the time to properly look, he could see all manner of colours within it, brilliant flashes of pigment that blended together to form a rainbow after rainbow and of course it would contain dozens of rainbows within it. It was Roman’s memories and what else could it be, if not extremely gay?

Virgil felt a sad smile curl onto his face as he stared down at it, absently turning it over in his hands, thumbs brushing over the surface and tracing the rainbows as they wound their way over item.

The creative side wasn’t even here and he was still the gayest, most dramatic person in the room. If he could remember his own history he would probably be so proud of this moment. Virgil would have to settle for being proud for him, for letting this image burn into his mind so that he could rell Roman about it later, when enough time had passed. It would no doubt be raw at first but Virgil hoped there would come a time when he could look back at not having his memory and the whole thing be more water under the bridge. He might even have forgiven Virgil by this mysterious far away time.

Virgil really hoped Roman would forgive him.

He didn’t know if Deceit told him what was happening or not though. Knowing his brother as he did, Virgil had a sneaking suspicion that Deceit wouldn’t have been able to resist bragging a little after Roman had eaten the jelly. At the very least he was probably going to know who was really behind it, which meant Virgil was going to have to beg Roman not to do anything foolish, to leave Deceit in peace. At the worst end of the bragging fear of course, was that Deceit would have told him everything.

It was no less than he deserved of course, Roman should know who was to blame for what had happened but Virgil couldn’t help but be a little selfish. He didn’t want to lose the friendship he had with Roman completely. Then again... if Deceit had told him, it would save Virgil the agony of having to do it himself because sooner or later roman needed to know. He had trusted the wrong person when he had so casually tossed his faith in Virgil’s lap and it wouldn’t do for the creative side to make the same mistake again.

Virgil should have asked Deceit what had happened exactly but he had been distracted, too caught up in the thrill of knowing that he had managed to convince him, that he held in his hands the very thing he wanted. It wasn’t until after Deceit had left, the darker side saying something about having to get ready for an important event that all the questions came flooding back to him. Too late. Always too late and that could be Virgil’s new motto in life.

Legs felt wobbly, as though he had been on some hideous exercise course instead of simply standing still and Virgil just wanted to lie down and sleep for an eternity. If he could sleep long enough then maybe all of his problems would have somehow managed to resolve themselves by the time he woke back up. When in doubt, hide under the covers until the sun went away and with that, all the problems. Of course the problems would still be there when he climbed back out of bed but that probably just meant that he hadn’t been hiding for long enough.

Or that Virgil should face his problems head on, but what was he, a brave idiot or a cowardly idiot?

The second clearly and it made Virgil want to laugh, something as sad as his smile, to fill the quiet space around him with giggles that were anything but pleasant. He settled on the edge of the throne, legs swinging backwards and forwards absently as he carried on staring at the object, letting it chill his skin even further.

Virgil wasn’t even really sure why he was hesitating. This was what he wanted, what he had been trying so hard to get. It was the answer to all his problems and all he had to do was break it to free the memories. They would seek out their original owner, wherever he was and return to him. Easy. One step and everything will be fine once more. Or so Deceit said and the instruction seemed simple enough, clear enough that even Virgil should be able to follow them.

It couldn’t be that simple.

Things were never that simple.

Teeth caught at his bottom lip, Virgil worrying at it, chewing slowly as he stared at the orb, as he tried to work out what he was thinking, feeling, and why it should matter. Why hadn’t he just tossed the orb onto the floor and be done with it? Why was he still keeping the moment at bay? True, Deceit probably hadn’t told the whole truth. Virgil didn’t really think it was possible for him to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Still, he didn’t think he would leave anything out on purpose that could case a problem, not really. Deceit wanted him to restore Roman’s memories because if he did that Virgil had agreed to a price in return. But that wasn’t anything like he had expected either.

It was yet another example of how he should have known better, should have trusted his brother to have already played the game several moves in advance. It was how Deceit saw a lot of his interactions after all, as some giant three dimensional game of chess. He was always playing, always planning something, working out what he could get from every conversation he ever had.

Normally that infuriated Virgil. Very occasionally, it brought a hint of warmth to his cheeks when the game was to protect him, to know that Deceit was trying harder than he would ever admit to. He would fight to the bitter end and beyond in order to win. Even a retreat was rarely actually admitting defeat, but rather something more tactical, changing the situation and coming at the issue from a different direction.

Deceit was a terrible little try hard and Virgil was willingly going to pay his so called ‘price’.

Did Roman need to know about that? It didn’t affect him after all, although Virgil almost suspected it was the whole point of this. The moment that Deceit had realised Virgil seriously wanted to return the memories he had scrapped the game he had been playing and had started a new one. The second Deceit had told him what it would cost him to restore the memories, he had started to wonder if this had all been one of his annoying games that he liked to play.

Maybe Virgil hadn’t actually won the argument but Deceit had just let him believe he had.

Still, that didn’t explain why he was hesitating, why he was sat here lost in thought. Why didn’t he just end of all this? Then he could go home. He could hide like he wanted. Virgil’s arm felt heavy, weighed down by the orb, as if it was trying to rejoin the ground all on its own. The whole situation felt heavy, made him want to weep, to just sink down in a heap and never move again.

“Virgil!”

His head snapped up at the sound of his name, blinking a couple of times as he tried to work out how long he had been sitting on the throne, lost in his own thoughts. They had been chasing their own tails for a while now, twisting and hissing on a route worn thin by the pressure. It had felt like an eternity and at the same moment, no time at all. The shadows had lengthed on the statues dotted around the lower half of the throne room, casting them into sharper relief.

Which only made them creepier of course, Virgil feeling a shudder run through him as he took in some of the expressions of horror which lingered across some of the perfectly sculpted faces. Horror and terror, bodies twisted and cowering in fear or trying to run and yeah, yeah, Virgil really hoped that they had started out as statues, that when Roman had created the world he had decided to skip the step of actually torturing slivers of Thomas’ mind.

One of them was moving. No. No, now that he took a moment to focus, it was obviously Roman darting through the stone statues, almost flying as he ducked this way and that, crossing the distance between them in a matter of moments. He wasn’t wearing his prince outfit, opting instead for a pale red loose fitting top with a cream jacket over it. There were hints of his old self in the colour choices but they were washed out compared to the vibrant tones he normally went for as though Roman still wasn’t sure what he wanted from his clothes. Not that the clothes mattered. It wasn’t as though Virgil was going to get a good reading about Roman’s mental state from the clothes he was wearing and yet they slipped into his thoughts all the same.

Roman almost fell over his feet as he skidded to a stop a few feet away from the throne, in exactly the same space that Virgil had stopped when he had confronted Deceit originally.

And he was the one sat on the throne. The thought rested uncomfortably in his mind, even if Virgil couldn’t quite put his finger on why it made him feel the way it did. All he really knew for sure was the thought made him stand, dragging his protesting body back upright. Upright was almost as bad, towering over Roman, that unpleasant but maddeningly vague feeling persisting even now. He felt even more torn than a few moments ago, pulled between sitting down once more as his body wanted, giving in to the weight and tiredness, or moving forward to crouch down to Roman’s level as though that would somehow make the bad things go away.

Limbs couldn’t decide either way and so he remained frozen in place, trapped by his own indecision, victim of his own inaction. Maybe that should be his new motto - victim always, but only because of his own flaws.

“Virgil... wait...” Roman bent over, hands on his knees as he drew in great lungfuls of air, trying to catch his breath. Virgil felt a frown grown on his features as he stared down at his still panting friend.

Had Roman really run all the way here? It probably wasn’t that far from the Wardrobe anymore, the world would have carried on contracting in its death throes but still, if Roman hadn’t even bothered to walk or call for help, then he must have been desperate, not thinking clearly.

Something twisted in Virgil’s stomach, a dark, unpleasant thing to match the dark thoughts. How on earth had Roman even known he was here? Why was he here at all, and he didn’t look happy. Was he mad that Virgil had gone off on an adventure without him? That was the sort of thing that Roman would have once gotten worked up about and throne a dramatic fit that he didn’t really feel. He would have sulked for days but there was a seriousness to this moment, an added weight that told Virgil it wasn’t that. As much as he wanted it to be that, the cynical part was telling him not to get his hopes up.

That part of Virgil was normally - depressingly - right and so he had learnt to listen to its advice over the years. He listened to it now, let it whisper and vent at him, warning him that this was something dangerous and so he needed to put his walls up. Defend his heart before Roman did something that would truly hurt. Virgil didn’t want to believe it, didn’t want to think that his friend was about to do or say something terrible but his anxiety was screaming at him now. It made him want to scream in turn, Virgil able to hear his heart in his ears, a thundering beat that only grew louder and louder with every passing second of otherwise silence.

“What?” He couldn’t bear it any longer, the noise that wasn’t scaring him so much more than his heart or the screams inside his head. Roman’s silence was agony in its own right, a pain which made Virgil twitch slightly, shifting from foot to foot, the orb still cradled ever so carefully in his hands.

“Don’t... don’t do it,” Roman told him at last, straightening up once more, a pained expression on his face. “Don’t restore the memories, I don’t want them back.”

“Wh... how can you not want them back?” Virgil replied and he had suspected that Roman was a little... doubtful about who he had once been but there was a far cry between not being sure if every choice that you had made in your shadowy past was the right one and deciding that the best thing to do in order to deal with that uncertainty was to cut everything out of your life to do with it completely. He almost wished they were back in those few moments before, when it had been a world of possibilities as to what Roman wanted because at least it hadn’t been this.

Not to mention that he knew why Virgil was here. Somehow he knew and Virgil had no clue how he knew what Virgil was doing and why, but somehow Roman was aware that the ice palace was the answer to the mystery. Somehow Roman knew that the story was meant to reach its dramatic conclusion here. Strangely fitting that it should be the two of them in an abandoned throne room.

Prince and pretender.

Only Virgil didn’t know anymore who was who. Not for the first time since this whole mess started, he found himself mourning the loss of innocence that age and experience had brought him. Things had never really been as simple as his memories painted them as time giving them a rosy glow. Logically he knew this, he could almost hear Logan’s voice in his head picking things apart, pointing out all the flaws in his memories, moments that he had glossed over or straight out ignored to create the fantasy that he had been happier back then.

Right now however, Virgil just wanted to indulge in the pretence and imagine a time when things hadn't been complicated. When he knew the right thing to say or do and there hadn’t been any painful choices to make. He should have been faster. Virgil should have smashed it the moment Deceit had given it to him and not waited around like an idiot. None of this would have happened if Virgil had just followed the single step and ended this whole thing.

Eyes flickered back down to the object still held in his hands, Roman’s gaze following him. He heard the sharp intake of breath as the other side stared at the object, the sound of soft footfalls as Roman took another faltering step towards him. Brown eyes lifted to watch, trying to work out what was going on in that head of his. Not that the creative side seemed to notice his gaze, his own attention still firmly fixed on the item in Virgil’s hand. Roman was staring at the orb with a mixture of fascination and horror. It was the kind of look Logan had whenever there was a cat in Thomas’ near vicinity, with Patton cooing about how cute it was and how they should just accept death.

It almost went without thinking, that it wasn’t a good look. Hand stretched out a little towards it, the tremble clear to see as Roman finally spoke, voice a little more than a hushed whisper.

“Is... is that them?”

Okay, so maybe he hadn’t known that Virgil had gotten this far but he knew now. Virgil felt his fingers curl tighter around the orb, as if he was going to somehow protect it against Roman and what an absurd thought to think that he wanted to do that when they belonged to Roman in the first place and it was surely up to him and him along what happened to them. It wasn’t as though he was going to damage the memories, no matter what Roman had just said, surely he wasn’t going to turn his back on a lifetime of thoughts and feelings. A whole spectrum of experiences just waiting to be rediscovered.

Except that the look in Roman’s eyes didn’t exactly speak to the more optimistic parts of his mind. Rather, it spoke to that same cynical part of him that had worried at this thread of thought to begin with, who had worried this was something bad. Bad seemed so optimistic now, so naive almost, as if it couldn’t even come close to describing the horror show this moment had become.

If he gave the orb to Roman right now, Virgil knew with an iron clad certainty that he would never see it again. Worse, he would never see the Roman he had grown up with again, the one that annoyed him true and had even made him cry on occasion but still the bravest, best prince that Virgil had ever known or wanted to know. It was an honour to stand beside him, to banter with him and to be considered part of his family, one of his friends.

And an emo who's now our best friend.

Roman had written that. Admittedly in the hope that Virgil would sing with them after the first line had gone down like a lead balloon. Virgil had sung that line in the end though, he had given Roman what he had wanted, if that was all then there was no reason to keep trying, to push and push.

Expect it made everyone else happy too, Virgil’s thoughts twisting and snapping back on themselves, tiny angry bite marks in his mind. Roman lived for praise and he hadn't got it from the first version of the song. It made everyone happy, so maybe it wasn’t for him. Maybe it was irrelevant that Anxiety had been singing when compared to the grand scheme of making it a good holiday for everyone, the great plan of being together.

Still he had wanted Virgil to sing with them. He had wanted to include Virgil and had gone to great lengths in order to achieve that. Not because he had to but because he wanted to. He refused to leave Virgil behind in the cold any longer. The least Virgil could do was the same for him. Roman was his friend and he was going to do whatever it took to help him find his way home.

Virgil had to say something. He knew he had to say something but his mind was blank, an empty canvas where the lone goblin working the controls had fled. It echoed to the drum of his heart, a solitary sad sound that only highlighted how empty his brain really was. All those thoughts about how good Roman was, how strong and noble and right, and yet they couldn’t seem to form into a coherent single sentence he could use to prove to Roman that he was worthy of being saved. Virgil was going to do whatever he could in order to drag Roman back but the other side needed to give him his hand at least.

Virgil just had to work out how to coax Roman into doing that. He had to try at least.

“This is who you are Roman, this is all the answers to all those questions you’ve had since you came through the Wardrobe that first night. I know it’s gotta be overwhelming, but trust me dude, once I do this... everything is going to be better.” Virgil did his best not to cringe as he spoke, at how weak and feeble his voice sounded, how uncertain he made it seem. He certainly wasn’t buying his own words and if he didn’t believe them, how could he possibly expect Roman to?

“That Roman is a horrible excuse of a side!” Roman snapped, Virgil feeling himself recoil a little from the words, from an anger that he had not been expecting. So many possible emotions had come to mind, but not that kind of anger, as if the memories had somehow caused him physical pain without being part of him. What was he saying? What had he seen or what had someone told him?

Had another Dark Side been whispering their lies? Virgil had left Roman alone and thus undefended. Well, not completely alone, Patton and Logan had been there but they didn’t know. They hadn’t lived with the Darker elements of Thomas’ mind, day in and day out. They hadn’t learnt how to be quiet, how to be small. How to make sure you weren’t noticed, that you didn’t become a target for their rage or worse - their boredom.

Roman would have been a tempting target if they realised what had happened to him and of course they would know. The whole mind had to know, a seismic shift that had affected everything because of how important Roman really was. Even if he didn’t realise or believe it at times. Virgil doubted they would have been able to help themselves if they had come across him. The chance to rebuild one of the most important elements of Thomas in their own image? To sow doubt in order to try and gain some more influence themselves.

At the end of the day that was all they wanted. To have Thomas listen to them, because they were just as convinced that their way was the right way, the best way for Thomas to get what he wanted from life. They just didn’t care who else got hurt along the way, they couldn’t imagine or accept a world where they were not the dominant - the only - voice inside Thomas’ head. Making Roman smaller meant one of them might have a chance to become bigger at his expense. Not if Virgil had anything to say about it. Right now however, Roman was the one who was talking, his words rolling over Virgil like a wave.

“He is cruel and mean spirited, selfish, egotistical! He doesn’t deserve your friendship and he certainly doesn’t deserve to come back! I don’t want to be him anymore Virgil. I’m going to become a new Creativity, a better one. Someone who treats everyone right, someone that Thomas can honestly be proud of it.” Roman sounded so sure of himself as spoke, far more confident than he had been recently with his memories.

The blows kept on coming, mental shock after mental shock, each one pushing Virgil further and further underwater. The pressure on his chest felt real, a heavy weighted band that had snapped itself around him and was slowly decreasing in size. The level of self loathing that had suddenly appeared was breathtaking in all the wrong ways and Virgil had to hold in the urge to cry at it. So much hate. So much anxiety and guilt swirling around them both until not even the literal representation of anxiety could tell who was feeling what.

“Roman...” Virgil tried again, unsure of what he could say in this moment but still determined to try. “If you just watch the videos, you’re no-”

“I watched some of them,” Roman interrupted, Virgil’s mouth snapping shut at the words and would the surprises never stop? He expected Roman to hate the anxious side once he saw how he had really behaved, not himself. It was all so clear to Virgil, he had behaved badly at first. Sure his intentions had been good but intentions didn’t count for much when you showed up insulting and scaring the one person you had sworn to do anything to protect. It was just like the saying: the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

Anxiety had come so close to falling into hell. All those years of living on the outskirts, watching the light sides and being trapped in their world but never being accepted meant that he hadn’t learnt how to share, when to talk and when to listen. It had always been a brutal fight for attention, and Virgil hadn’t realised until it was almost too late - his old motto once again - that he was going down the wrong path. He was too much like the darker sides and that had sent Virgil spiralling in horror. Anything but that.

So he had thrown himself into oblivion, had tried to wipe himself completely from Thomas in a desperate bid to make up for his mistake. He had gone too far in the opposite direction and Virgil was just so lucky that the others had decided to care. That Roman had decided to care.

"Then you saw what a good person you are," Virgil retorted and he might have a list of his own flaws burned inside his brain, a roll call of failings that would takes days to recite but if there was one thing that his past had taught him well, it was how much he loved the others. It was how great they all really were. If only the stupid goblin that worked the controls inside his head hadn’t decided that now was the perfect time to take its long awaited vacation somewhere sunny and away from here.

“You are a good person Roman,” Virgil added when it seemed that his first attempt hadn’t gotten any response. “You’re my prince and you’re Thomas’ hero. That is who you are, not your worst fears.”

Roman shook his head and Virgil had almost forgotten how stubborn the creative side could be. It was one of the few traits that every side shared, and at any other time Virgil might have marvelled and wondered what that really meant for Thomas. Right now, he just found himself wishing that it wasn’t that big a part of him, that Roman would just listen for once.

“I saw what I saw. I saw... what he was like and I’m telling you now Virgil I don’t want that. I don’t want to be a Prince anymore, I don’t want to shower you with cruel nicknames, to talk over the others, to act as if I’m better than the best of you. Just not as handsome as me, the nerve of myself! Everyone had the chance to show the others some love and he had to turn it all around to be about himself. No wonder you weren't comfortable about saying it." Roman was ranting now, hands lifting and falling in some terribly beautiful dance as he spoke, Virgil feeling his heart twist in perfect synchronization to each and every movement, as if it was physically being manipulated by Roman’s hands.

And that wasn't... that wasn't the point, not at all. That wasn’t what had stopped Virgil from going further than an ‘implied’ when he talked about his feelings. Roman could have been as earnest and as tender as he had been in Virgil's room, and the anxious side still wouldn't have been able to go any further than he already has. Even calling it an ‘understood’ thing had taken Virgil more courage than he had realised he possessed because what if they rejected him? What if they laughed - they did laugh but Virgil had grown to understand the difference between a mean laughing and laughing with someone, something he hadn’t understood when he lived down below.

That was all his damage and nobody else's.

I don’t want to disappear and have him get up and walk about in my place. Maybe this is a good thing, yeah?” Roman asked, voice soft and earnest. So pleading, and Virgil had always struggled to say no to Roman. Or any of them really. It was a good thing none of them had ever worked out his weakness because he shuddered to think what they would have done with it had they known back where he was merely the villain and someone to be pushed side.

Only now Roman was unknowingly pressing on that most tender of sports, was using Virgil’s greatest weakness against him, trying to convince him of a course of action Virgil didn’t want to take. The world grew blurry, Virgil blinking furiously a few times as he tried to shake away the tears that had sprung to life in his eyes.

This wasn’t a good thing. This couldn’t be a good thing. How could anything that left Roman a shadow of his former self be a good thing? How could he ask him this?

“If you are truly my friend Virgil, my friend, then... then let him go.”

The ultimatum felt like a slap across the face, something stinging and sharp, leaving Virgil gasping for breath, the sound short and shaking. Unlike the body blow sensation of earlier words that had left him feeling stunned and sluggish, this was like ice cold water splashed into his face, shocking his system and making him gasp, flinching slightly, his breathing still erratic and uneven.

“Let. Him. Go. Virgil,” Roman repeated and gods why did he have to ask that? Say that?

It was agonising enough when the choice had been between Deceit and Roman, but now he was supposed to pick between Roman and... Roman? How was he supposed to be able to do that? There was no right answer here, there wasn’t even a slightly less painful answer, because either one was a terrible betrayal of everything that Virgil stood for and would leave him without a friend. Whatever he did would be wrong and although this Roman didn’t know what he had done, how could Virgil possibly live with himself when he knew the truth?

It was Roman’s life. His memories. Surely that made it... his choice? And only his choice? What right did Virgil have to impose his will on Roman after all? He didn’t have all the facts of course. It was impossible to have the facts without the memories, but the memories were the fact and he had to make the choice without them, Virgil growing slightly dizzy as his mind tried to reconcile the impossible.

A Catch-22. Virgil didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to make the choice for Roman, he didn’t want to push and arrogantly claim that he knew best when it wasn’t his life, when these weren’t his memories. Roman apparently knew enough to know that he wanted no further part in his old life. He didn’t want to be a Prince again and what right did Virgil have to force that upon him just because he was selfish and weak, and missed the friend he was?

“Virgil,” Roman breathed, all those dark and uncomfortable thoughts and feelings pressing against him, closer and closer until it felt as though they were going to suffocate him.

Roman took the final step to make the small gap between them vanish, close enough that Virgil could all but feel his breath against his cheek, close enough that if Virgil wanted to, he could lean forward and let his head rest against Roman’s shoulder, granting him that comfort that he so desperately craved. Fingers pressed over Virgil’s own, Roman holding the orb with him although he made no attempt to pull it away. Something for which Virgil was very grateful for, right now he didn’t think he would have stopped him, his own grip feeling lax and lose.

He couldn’t breathe as he stared deep into Roman’s eyes, his own brimming with tears.

“Let him go...”

#sanders sides #in memoriam #aca writes #long post

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ramblinganthropologist · 5 years ago

Text

Writober 2019 - 28 (Afterlife)

Garrus realizes just what a certain word means and how it relates to him in particular after a rough night at Afterlife. Clearly, gay men are hardcore.

(Warning, a brief moment where you think there could be homophobia, but it goes away)

---

Garrus had often seen Omega when he was working. Never did he think he'd actually be inside the place as somebody gave its top boss the news someone was trying to take her out. Life was funny that way.

“I found on one of the mercs going after Archangel. Somebody doesn't like you.”

Shepard slid the datapad over with a careful prod, then returned to his normal sitting position. On most people, Garrus would have read that as trying to hide a hard on. However, the man didn't have the look in his eyes as he watched Aria T'Loak herself read it over. Then he got to watch her throw it at somebody. Her temper was indeed legendary – he almost felt bad for that poor batarian who was lucky to keep all four of his eyes.

Then she was back to looking at her guest. Most people would have killed – and had – to try to get that kind of attention. It wasn't sexual, just business, but still. Shepard had Aria freaking T'Loak all to himself for a second of her precious time.

Some might call him a lucky bastard.

“You've done a lot for me, Shepard. Let me return the favor.”

Well, shit – they weren't getting their commander back. Garrus shot the other part of the party, a large human named Bo Peep Shepard because the universe was fucking weird, the look that it was time to go. After all, it was about to get to get messy.

She didn't return it. Instead, Bo looked amused as the other Spectre in the room shook his head and stood. “You don't have to, just keeping Omega from exploding is enough.”

Aria let out a bored sound as she uncrossed her legs. “I meant supplies, Shepard. It's not that easy to get into my bed.”

“I know. You don't need to, we're fine.” Shepard's eyes were towards the door. “I should go, but thanks again.”

Garrus fell in behind him as they left the VIP area and returned to the heart of the club. Afterlife was famous on Omega, and it was easy to see why. Dancers kept the crowd entertained, and heavy music pumped through the speakers. It was a place that was hard to think, and harder to say no to. He had heard the stories while on planet.

And Shepard had just said no to Aria herself. They must have replaced his blood with ice water.

“I think she was coming on to you, Al.” Bo ribbed her commanding officer in the side. “Probably going to go cry in her pillow now that you turned her down.”

Shepard smiled briefly, but it was an awkward one. He was an awkward one. “I think she'll be just fine. I'm not exactly her type.”

Or was it the place wasn't his? Garrus kept an eye on Shepard as they maneuvered through the night club. Plenty of good looking woman with a thing for a man in uniform were giving him the eye, but he never paused to return it. Instead, he kept his eyes on the door.

Maybe he was embarrassed. After all... Shepard was awkward. Garrus knew that better than anyone thanks to their late night talks on the old Normandy. Even death couldn't beat that out of him. All that raw sexuality might just have been too much for the little guy, especially if a little bit of it was directed at him.

Oh well, there was always next time.

---

Garrus still felt like he needed a shower after the one he'd have as he stepped back into his jumpsuit in his little space in the battery. Even on a Cerberus created ship, this spot felt like his own. Free from prying eyes, he could just... calibrate.

And calibrating was good for frayed nerves.

He knew he was lucky to be alive, especially after everything that had happened on Omega. If Shepard hadn't been there... his talons tapped against the implants and scars that kept the right side of his face together. Definitely would've been dead.

Saved from the brink of death by a dead guy – that had to be a new one.

His thought process was distracted from a knocking by the door. Nobody... knocked on the battery door. Who did that kind of thing? It made him curious enough to step back as the door whooshed open, revealing the source of the odd noise.

“Hey.”

Shepard was out of armor too, now only wearing a ridiculously bright orange hooded sweatshirt and a pair of pants. He brushed some of his long hair behind one ear as the door closed behind him, closing them off together in the small space.

Apparently, Alliance commanding officers knock on the doors of their own ships?

Garrus shot him a blank look. “Unless that changed, it's your ship.”

“Yeah, but that doesn't mean I'm going to be an ass about it. Besides, you might have been naked in here and I don't think you'd want to show your carapaced ass to Cerberus.”

No. No he wouldn't have. Maybe he wouldn't complain about that after all.

Shepard took the room's only seat, sighing in relief as he sunk in. “Omega is gross. Took me two showers to feel human again.”

“I'm still working on feeling turian myself.” Garrus leaned against the main gun's housing, careful not to hit anything. “Any reason why you came down, Shepard? Did you want to check on my implants or something?”

After all, Shepard was a medic. If anyone knew if something was up, it be him. Had something been off during the fight? A thousand thoughts ran through the turian's mind as he tried to puzzle it out. Then that slowly turned into an anxiety – what had he missed that had worried the human so much?

Shit... was he going to be able to stick with him?

Shepard rubbed the back of his neck before he spoke. “Oh, no, I think they're ok, though I can check if you want.”

Relief washed over Garrus in waves. “Oh... then why come? Need tips on how to deal with woman after what happened with Aria? I don't know if I can help a human much.”

Ok, maybe the anxiety had led him to say that – but could anyone blame him? He'd thought something was permanently wrong with his implants. As the humans put it, though – the cat was out of the bag. Now he had to deal with whatever they had that facilitated keeping them in a sack to begin with. Maybe they spat acid?

Shepard, much to his surprise, started to chuckle. “Don't worry, I'm fine with that. Aria's not my type.”

He was smiling, but there was nothing friendly about the look he gave Garrus in that moment. Well, it was friendly... but a different type. If the turian didn't know better, he would've sworn that the human was … interested.

…

Garrus thought back to another night, one on the original Normandy. Shepard had joked once that there was nothing straight about him when prompted, though the joke had fallen flat. Straight, he knew, meant a certain thing to humans. And being around enough mercs told him the definition: only interested in a different sex.

So... he wasn't interested in women. Just...

Oh.

“You like men, don't you.”

Alistair's face went from pale to pink in about two seconds. “What?”

“You said there was nothing straight about you when we met. Aria's not your type because she looks like a woman to you-” Garrus was practically ticking it off his talons. “You only like men, then?”

It would... explain some looks, to say the least. Once in a while, back on the old Normandy, he had caught Shepard looking at Kaidan. It wasn't like the one he had seen moments before – never full, something almost sad about it. It was in his voice whenever he talked about the turian who had been on the Normandy before.

Or when he caught the man looking at him.

Shepard was still blushing as he looked away. “Yeah... I'm gay. Is that going to be a problem, Garrus?”

There was a note in his voice – almost a challenge. He might not have been looking, but he was ready to fight. Something about that Garrus could respect, even if he didn't quite understand it. Clearly, gay men were hardcore like that.

Was it?

…

Well, no. He couldn't exactly lie and say he didn't like the attention Shepard shot at him when they were alone. Something about it even... excited him in a way. But it was a hard road to cross between them, and not just because of species.

Still... he could still remember the man holding his damn face together, telling him he was going to be ok. Those hands had been so warm and comforting then. If there was a chance he could get to hold them again, well, that wouldn't be a bad thing.

“Garrus?”

Back to reality. The turian shook his head as he looked back at the Normandy's commanding officer. “Oh, no. No problems here. I suppose if there were I might be out the airlock right now?”

Shepard snorted as his shoulders relaxed. “I mean the thought has crossed my mind with some people, but no. You're good.”

He stood, and suddenly there wasn't much personal space between them. Garrus felt his heart race as the Spectre leaned in close, inspecting the right side of his face. He was so small that his head barely brushed against the turian's reconstructed jaw. Those blue eyes were focused on him again, studying him.

“Looks like your implants are doing just fine too. Don't get blown up again and they'll settle in just fine.”

Garrus barely heard it through the pounding of his heart. “Not exactly on my to-do list, no.”

“Good, it was hard enough putting you back together the first time.” Shepard patted him on the shoulder as he backed up. “Just wanted to check in on you is all. If you need me, you know where I am.”

The turian didn't answer as he watched the Normandy's commander make his way to the door. Their eyes met briefly when he turned back, and in them held the same charge. But then he was gone, off to wherever Spectres went when they weren't being confusing and making people's hearts beat faster.

Garrus was left in the battery, to linger on the thought of those eyes and what the little touches might mean. Gone were thoughts of calibrating. Instead, they focused hard on a redhead with bright blue eyes who death had taken once and returned back into his life with a literal bang.

Forget calibrating – he'd be lucky to remember how to breathe. Apparently, Shepard wasn't the only one with a preference for men – though that was definitely news to the turian.

Well, great. At least he was smart enough not to get it tattooed like SOME people on the Normandy.

#ramblinganthropologist's writing #Writober2019 #Alistair Shepard #Garrus Vakarian #Guess who has the gay and trans pride flags tattooed on his shoulder and win a prize

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